#mainly hockey players

[mattatouile]

on love is blind one of the guys was telling his friends how much he loves his fiancee

and his friend goes

dude, you found your homie

and I genuinely haven't stopped thinking about it in relation to every single one of my otps

[gogoahogo]

i guess i just have a thing for blonde hockey players... and guys that are like 5x my size.... and emo guys..... and metalheads....... and cowboys...........

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

trying to balance wanting a suit but knowing my weight fluctuates/not liking to commit to anything that isn’t stretchy bc it’s just uncomfortable and stressful to maintain

but going thru the fucking suit section for women like bitch i dont want that

[wandasfifthwife]

(1) running into you ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: creepy man hits on r, flirting (r and w), mentions to past injury (r), some mommy issues mentioned whoops, the nephew’s name is Tyler (💀)

a/n: not proofread oopsies. DON’T steal/repost my works. anyways enjoy this piece of shit. I’ll come back and edit this later.

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It’s a transition going from spending every minute in the rink to living vicariously through your nephew’s newfound interest in the ice. You’ve been taking him to lessons since his parents, your brother, has had to work every minute to make a decent living.

Seeing an ice rink after two years was strangely nostalgic. Spending every waking hour here until you’d gone and screwed your leg during practice.

You would’ve been better off without your coach at the time, your mom, yelling in your ear to get up. It’s in the past and you’re hoping it stays there.

Your nephew was about young teen, unfortunately a stereotypical teen boy who played sports. He was a good kid, but too confident for his own good and feeling the need to size up other players.

The coach of the team had been running them through drills. They were mainly on how to skate and learning specific techniques for hockey such as stopping quickly. He was picking it up quick, again too confident in his efforts but it did get him somewhere.

“Who’s yours?”

You faced the man beside you, “I’m sorry?”

He pointed, waving his finger around and it clicked for you. You waved him off, saying you were here for your nephew.

“Is he your sister’s? Your brother’s?”

“My brother’s. He’s thirteen.”

“And picking it up now? That’s a bit late.”

You laugh, “what?”

The man shrugs and leans back, “he may not be able to make varsity. I mean look.”

The frustration burned through you, feeling annoyed at his audacity. You begin to grab your stuff and move down the bleachers.

“These are kids, and they can do it as a social pastime. I did figure skating and I made it into the region competitions. I was thirteen.”

The man scoffs, “I’m talking about the young boy here and an actual sport, not twirling on the ice. I mean you didn’t go far if you’re here on a Monday night.”

With a shake of your head, you leave and officially move away to the other set of bleachers, closer to where the players got off the ice. It was surprising how aggressive some parents were with their kids doing a sport. It concerned you how concerned they were with their kid succeeding in a sport they once did.

You had sat near the railing towards the bottom, resting your head on it. There was an attempt made to forget your coursing adrenaline, watching your nephew work on sliding across the ice.

It was futile, especially with the way the man was holding his stare in your direction. Whatever his problem was, you wanted nothing to do with it. Men were weird, especially when they’re under some sort of influence.

The group huddled together in the rink, the words being spoken echoed throughout the room. The only word you understood was when they announced their team chant.

You waved back at your nephew when he skated by the window, mouthing something about, “watching him.” It was practice time, where they’re given ten minutes to skate around and practice what they learned.

He flailed around but he still got up proud, acting as if his stop and falling onto the ground was meant to happen. It was amusing, but entertaining and failed for you to realize the man was walking near you yet again.

“Hey ma’am, sorry for the inconvenience. I just thought you were quite beautiful.”

You cringe, “being mean is your flirting technique?”

“Usually chicks dig it.”

You nod and look back to your nephew but he’s relentless and doesn’t want to take no for an answer, even stepping closer to you.

“You alright here miss?”

A woman in skates appeared near you two. She was adjusting the heavy coat around her shoulders, moving to take it off with the obvious sweat on around her face and neck.

The man speaks for you, “we’re fine.”

She raises her eyebrow and tosses the coat onto the bleachers, eyes slowly looking to you for confirmation. You move away from the man and it was enough confirmation.

“Hey buddy, she’s not interested. There’s plenty of fish in the sea but a woman twenty years younger than you isn’t the move.”

With a patronizing smile and wave he began to yell at his son to leave. You thanked her, moving to do the same when she stopped you.

“Who’re you here for?”

“Tyler, what’re you here for?”

She looks confused for a moment, making a subtle gesture towards the skates on her feet, “I’m the coach.”

You swear you feel your confidence melt into a puddle. How long have you been taking him to practices and you’ve never cared to greet the coach?

“I’m terrible sorry,” you put your hand out to shake hers, “I should have introduced myself when I had begun to take him to practice. It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiles and pushes your hand away, “no need. How’re you feeling though, need someone to walk you to your car?”

“That’s quite alright, I believe I’ll be fine.”

Your nephew exits the rink then, coming to sit near you two and untie his skates. He either didn’t notice you two conversing or he didn’t care, because he had come barreling in. You take his helmet off, reminding him to not forget his bag in the locker room.

“You did a great job today, Tyler, how’re you feeling about your stops now?”

“I’m definitely better. I think I’m better than Micah too, he slides into the walls. Man has no clue on how to slide.”

She hums, “then I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.”

He waved and begins to walk behind the bleachers towards the locker room, and she looks back to you.

“I could stand at the door and make sure you two get to your car? I can see him standing at the tables looking this way. My word, is he drunk or something?”

You look and find him standing outside by himself and accept her assistance. It wasn’t that you necessarily trusted her, but she was more trustworthy than the other.

She grabs her coat and stuff on the seat, ready to go just as Tyler had ran out from the locker rooms. He smelt terrible and for some reason felt the need to stand where his sweat melted onto your skin.

“Maximoff what drills are we doing tomorrow?”

She looks relaxed, her eyes focused on him and tone kind while it feels your nerves are spiking when you see the man in your peripheral vision. He doesn’t seem to pay you any mind anymore, he looked distant while his son finished packing up.

“Okay, I’m heading off. Have a good night you two,” she looks to one more time, and you mouth your thanks. She jerks her car door open, throwing her stuff in and climbing in after.

“I love Maximoff. She’s a great coach, very professional if I could add.”

You shove him into the car, and start driving out of the parking lot. It’s fun to watch someone gain traction in a sport and see how much they enjoy learning the next steps to getting better.

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?”

“I am. Your parents aren’t getting back until later tonight, so I’m staying over tonight. Anything you want to do?”

He doesn’t seem very interested in anything you suggest, wanting to go to bed right after you both have dinner. And it’s understandable.

He had gone to bed four hours before his parents had finally begun to come home, your brother being the first home. He found you on the couch, “hey, how’re you?”

“It’s swell. I got hit on at the rink, but other than that it’s fine. Tyler’s asleep now.”

“You got hit on at the rink?”

“Opened with insults and everything.”

He empties his water bottle, his voice slightly muffled from where he was in the house, “are you okay with continuing to bring him to practice? I feel bad enough as it is. We can’t thank you enough.”

“No it’s fine. It was just sudden. I enjoy being able to see you all often,” you dangle your keys, “I’m going to head back to my apartment, I unfortunately have work tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, get home safe. Maybe tomorrow we can all eat dinner this weekend, we’d like to catch up”

“I’d love to. Sleep well, goodnight,” you wave before shutting the door behind you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Tyler,” you say while finishing tying his skates, “I don’t want you to hang around Josh anymore okay? He’s a terrible influence.“

“But he’s the second best. At least he isn’t sliding into the walls.”

“I mean his personally is shit, just focus on learning the fundamentals and talk with the others.”

“Isn’t that a bad word—”

“Just get on the ice.”

He puts his hands up in offense and stumbles into the rink. You wipe your hands on your pants, “I swear—“

“That you do,” she comes beside you.

She sets her bags down beside you, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Your attention follows her fingers, a part of you hating the way she’s tying her skates. The other part got caught judging from the expression on her face.

“Are you judging how I tie my skates?”

You get slightly flustered, apologizing and fearing you’ve made her uncomfortable but all it does is grow the smile that was already there.

“Should be sorry unless you have a valid reason.”

“I figure skated,” you blurt and she looks amused.

“Do you still skate?”

“Not anymore after an injury my junior year.”

She looks earnest in her apology. In a response to not spiral you laugh it off.

“I bet it’s painful to realize you won’t be able to enjoy your passion again, but you’re here supporting him.”

“It’s not the end of the world, but it’s disappointing,” you laugh, “And of course, Tyler loves hockey. Especially when he has a coach like you.”

She leans to grab her coat, “what’s special about me?”

It’s something you’re still learning. That being how you have a knack for being flirty when you aren’t usually meaning to. In this moment though? You don’t mind.

You smile cruelly, “it’s 2:00.”

She checks her watch for confirmation and dramatically steps back onto the ice with a sigh. You feel your heart race from within your chest at the look she gave you after.

It felt like you were being called out. Her attention was on you before and after each practice. You enjoyed familiarizing yourself with your nephew’s coach (by familiarizing you mean flirting). It would make sense to leave everything where it was, but you didn’t want to.

You learned it was more than a simple surface friendship with your nephew’s coach when she slipped her number into your back pocket. And maybe the details on there that she wanted to take you out that Saturday at 8.

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@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @emiliaisdead

@esposadejoyhuerta @shinysuitcloud

@xxsekhmet @casquinhaa @r0manxff

[youunravelme]

the worst wing-woman

author's note: just like all my other fics, we are existing in an alternate plane where tito was never traded. also i've never worked for the nhl, so i have no idea how accurate being a photographer is but guess what. idgaf. also sorry for the amount of italics in this fic, i have no self control apparently. and shoutout to my new friend @dani746 for helping me with this monstrosity.

summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?

pairing: mat barzal x islanders photographer!reader

warnings: cursing and low self esteem

despite working for the isles for two years now, you still got nervous walking into work.

you weren't a stranger to the team, some of them you knew quite well. anders and marty being two players you were friendly with (mainly due to the fact that you were somewhat friendly with their wives). but there was always one player who eluded you, who you'd only ever had professional interactions with.

mathew barzal.

and it shouldn't be surprising, you were a measly photographer whereas he was the star player of his team, the winner of the calder trophy, an nhl heartthrob. why should he pay attention to you?

media day was one of your favorite days, mainly because it was the closest you ever got to holding full conversations with him. not that the conversations went anything beyond "look right here" or "great job, mat."

you didn't even think he knew your name.

the longest conversation you had with him consisted of him asking to see the photos you took and patting you on your back when he liked what he saw before he went off to talk to tito.

"you having a good day?" you nearly jumped a foot in the air when your staring was cut off by anders walking up to you.

"yeah," you said when your heartbeat returned to normal. "just busy is all." you held your camera up as if that was enough of an explanation.

anders nodded. "any of the boys giving you a hard time?"

you shook your head rapidly. "nope, they've all been on their best behavior."

"even barzy and beauvillier?" at the mention of their names, the duo turned their heads and locked eyes with you and anders.

you wanted to dig a hole and die in it.

"what about us?" mat asked, sauntering over with his best friend right behind him.

"you haven't been giving her a hard time, have you?" anders crossed his arms. and if you weren't panicking at the closing distance between you and mat, you might've noticed the shared smirk between the three hockey players in front of you.

"us?" tito asked. "why would you think that? we've only ever been angels."

before anders could ask you to corroborate tito's story, your name was called. you awkwardly waved to the three men before walking over to another set of props, ready to photograph another hockey player.

"done embarrassing yourself?" your coworker tyler asked.

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "shut up."

"seriously, you're not his type," he added. "he's not gonna go for you."

tyler might as well have stabbed you in the gut with how much his words hurt you, but you put a smile on and nodded. "yeah, i know. i know."

and you did.

you knew.

but you'd be delusional for a little while longer if it meant going to work wouldn't suck every day.

later that night, you found yourself at a bar with a group of your friends. you didn't want to go originally, but when alexa said she needed to go out to get over her ex, you felt like you had no other choice.

which is how you found yourself sipping a soda water in a booth while your friends danced and took body shots.

your gaze wandered around the bar aimlessly before you checked your phone for the time.

you'd only been there for an hour.

it took all self restraint not to bang your head against the table.

"having fun?" your head snapped up at the familiar voice only to see anthony beauvillier standing at the edge of your booth with a self satisfied smirk.

"i--"

"i didn't take you as one to go out drinking on a weeknight," he said.

you slumped into your seat. "i'm not. my friend alexa wanted to go out because her boyfriend just dumped her and she wanted a distraction."

anthony took the seat opposite of you. "and that is...?" he gestured at your drink.

"soda water," you answered. "i'm the DD for tonight."

"oof," he groaned before taking a sip of his beer. "that's rough."

you shrugged. "it's not that bad, i'd rather my friends get home safe than get drunk and show up to work hungover."

anthony nodded in a way that you'd seen other men do, the type of nod that comes right before someone looks around for someone more interesting to talk to.

"but what about you?" you rushed out, nearly tripping over your own words.

tito smiled. "what about me?"

"why're you here?"

he shrugged. "mat wanted to come out and didn't want to go out alone, so here i am."

mat.

you wanted to vomit.

"oh," you mumbled. "mat's here?"

tito nodded and gestured with his bottle to the bar. "he's over there talking to some brunette."

you followed with your eyes and when you finally locked eyes on him, you wished you hadn't.

he was talking to alexa, smiling at her the way you wished he'd smile at you.

maybe you could leave the bar and get hit by a taxi on the way out, that would be less painful than seeing the man you're in love with flirt with your friend.

"you okay?" anthony asked, nudging your leg with his foot.

you turned your gaze back to him and attempted to give him your most convincing smile. "i'm great!" you said before throwing your soda water back and coughing when the carbonation burned.

anthony didn't say a word.

when you looked back at the bar, alexa was nowhere to be found while mat was fiddling with one of his wristbands. you looked around to find alexa, thinking maybe she was in the crowd dancing or perhaps she was in line for the bathroom.

but she popped up at your table, sweaty and smiling.

"you good?" she asked before fixing her eyes on anthony who was sipping on his beer. "who's this?"

"anthony. i know him from work." tito gave her a small wave before taking another sip of his beer.

"alexa," she smiled before her attention focused back on you. "i actually met one of your coworkers, mat right?"

you forced a smile and nodded. "the one and only. what did you think?" though, to be fair, you didn't really want to know her opinion on him. not when you thought the world of him.

alexa shrugged and tossed her perfect hair over her perfect shoulder and gave a perfect smile that was a healthy balance of nonchalant and mildly interested. "he was alright, he knows he's attractive which is rather unattractive if you ask me."

tito choked on his beer while you stared in awe.

of all the words you'd use to describe mat, "alright" was not even close to the top 25.

"something funny?" alexa asked.

"nope," tito supplied, shaking his head. "nothing at all."

alexa looked at him, unconvinced, but didn't let it bother her. "i'm gonna go dance, you coming?" she asked.

you shook your head. "not really my scene."

alexa nodded and pranced off to the dance floor where the rest of your friends were grinding on strangers to the tune of some 2000s pop song.

"she's a delight," tito said.

you sighed. "she's practically miss america." you were too busy staring at her having fun to notice another person walk up to your booth until he was standing right in front of you with a question posed on the tip of his lips.

mat.

your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

"you know her?" he gestured over his shoulder to where alexa was laughing with one of your friends.

you nodded.

"are you two close?"

you shrugged.

mat sighed. "are you capable of speaking?"

tito spoke up. "mat, you just bombarded her without a single hello, chill."

mat pinched the bridge of his nose. "sorry, i just--she rejected me and i don't know why."

"you're too attractive and you know it," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth like that would stop any other bullshit that might come out.

mat tilted his head and leaned in. "huh?"

"her words, not mine," you said like it would absolve you of any guilt.

"what do you mean by being 'too attractive' and 'knowing it'? how does that even make sense?"

you shrugged for what felt like the twelfth time that night. "alexa's not really into guys who are obsessed with their appearances. she just got out of a relationship with a guy like that," you explained.

mat ran a hand down his face before placing both hands on his waist. "so what do you suggest i do?" he groaned.

"i--"

he snapped his fingers and looked at you for what felt like the first time. it sent a chill down your spine that you had a problem suppressing. "can you help me?"

your mouth dropped open. "huh?"

"you're friends, right? can you help me win her over?"

you could list about a thousand other things you'd rather do. you could think of five just off the top of your head.

but he looked so earnest and willing and how could anyone possibly resist him when he looked at you like that--

"of course!" you smiled.

of course?! yes would've sufficed but now you've got him thinking you'd enjoy this. which you most certainly wouldn't.

oh who were you kidding? all attention was good attention when it came to mat barzal and you'd give anything to keep him looking at you.

"thank you!" he smiled before clapping tito on the shoulder. "ready to head out?"

anthony nodded before addressing you. "i had a nice time. see you tomorrow?"

you smiled and nodded, giving them both a small wave as they walked away. the second they were out the door, you thumped your head against the table.

playing wing-woman for mathew barzal.

what the fuck was wrong with you?

how to be a wing-woman: a guide

usually when you went to work, you kept your head down and stayed out of the way. occasionally, you'd run into anders or marty, or maybe even tito, who would say their polite hellos, but for the most part you stayed out of the way during practices.

you were looking at the photos you just took when someone banged on the glass. a quick glance (that turned into a double take) let you figure out it was mat based on the 13 on his jersey and the fact that you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere.

he waved and smiled (and you might've died inside). "can i talk to you after practice?"

you nodded frantically before gaining a semblance of self respect and slowing down.

"great! meet you outside of the locker rooms!" he said before skating away.

"what was that about?" tyler asked. you turned, not even realizing he'd made his way towards you considering you thought he was on the other side of the arena.

"what? can't i talk to the players?"

tyler laughed. actually laughed. "considering barzal has never so much as looked at you, i'd say him approaching you during practice is pretty strange."

your shoulders sunk at the weight of the truth. "if you must know," you started. "he wants to date one of my friends, so i'm helping him out."

tyler laughed again and walked away without saying another word while you scrolled through the photos you took again until practice ended.

you headed towards the locker rooms only when the last player had been off the ice for ten minutes, you didn't want to chance waiting around too long looking like an idiot.

as you waited, you made a mental note of all the editing you'd have to do when you got back to your cubicle. you got a few good shots earlier, but they'd need some tweaking before you sent them to the social media team. in fact--

"hey, what're you doing here?" you glanced up and saw anders, hair wet from whatever brief shower he took.

you shrugged, not sure if it was your place to give away mat's intentions. "just waiting around."

"for?" he pushed.

"barzy needs her to play wing-woman," tito said from over anders' shoulders. "he wants to get with her friend, but her friend isn't interested."

anders threw his head back and laughed. "barzy not getting a girl? that's fucking hilarious."

tito smirked. "tell him what your friend said" he told you.

"she doesn't like that he knows he's attractive," you mumbled.

if it was even possible, anders laughed even louder. "un-fucking-believable."

"what's so funny?" mat walked up, running a hand through his damp hair.

you said "nothing" at the same time anders asked "you got rejected, barzy?"

mat's face dropped before looking at you and tito accusingly. anthony sighed and nudged his best friend. "chill out, barz. she didn't bring it up, i did."

mat's shoulders relaxed before he punched tito in the arm. "dick," he mumbled.

anders looked between the three of you and sighed. "i don't have time for this shit," he said. "i'll see you later." and he was off down the hallway.

"so what's the plan for today?" tito asked.

"you're not included," mat said. his gaze focused on you. "can i have your number?"

you blinked. "what?"

mat laughed a little and you could feel heat and shame running up your spine. he asked you one fucking question and you had to go act like a weirdo. "so i can text you? i think we should sit down and create a strategy."

you nodded and read off your number as he typed it into his phone. "great," he gave you his megawatt smile. "i'll text you."

"okay," you breathed out as he walked away without a thought.

tito kept standing there, smirking to himself. "you're so fucked," he said.

you nodded because there was nothing else to say.

step one: talk him up

you and mat got lunch two days later on a saturday when he didn't have a game. it was rather surreal, sitting across from him in public. the delusional part of you was begging you to imagine this as a date instead of a meeting to set your friend up with mat.

when did your life turn into something so pathetic?

"okay," he started. "tell me about your friend."

you would rather do anything else.

"she just got out of a long term relationship with this guy named jared. he was a bit self absorbed which is probably why she didn't like you knowing how hot you are." you paused as the words left your mouth, ready to set yourself on fire if he reacted. but he didn't, he only leaned in closer to listen. "she uh--she likes daffodils and goes to the farmer's market at union square every saturday."

"but what's she like?" he asked. "what's her personality?"

how would you say she's the trademarked cool girl? the girl every guy wanted, that mat was one man in a long list of men who tried and failed to win her over.

"she's sweet and affectionate," you started. "she pretty girly on the outside but knows her way around a car. she grew up with three older brothers so she knows a fair bit about sports, just not hockey, but if you wanted to talk stats about football or basketball, she's your girl. in college, she held the record for fastest shotgun in her sorority."

you racked your brain for more information about your friend, but it was difficult under pressure to sum up someone you'd known since freshman year of college.

"what else?" mat asked.

"she's a bit of a partier, but knows how to settle down and just chill. she's a really good friend, like last year i dated this guy who was cheating on me the entire duration of our relationship, which i should've known about because he said he had to go on business trips all the time but he worked as a barista, and she held me while i cried for three days straight and even threatened to fuck up his car."

mat stared at you without saying anything in a way that made you want to sink into a hole, never to be seen again. "you dated a barista and thought he needed to go on business trips?"

you blinked. "that's what you got from that? me dating a shitty barista?"

he shrugged. "i heard everything else, but that was definitely the funniest part. how long did you date him?"

"six months," you replied quickly. "but that's not the point! alexa is going to play hard to get because she doesn't want anything too serious right now."

"great! neither do i!"

"but she's not a one night stand kind of girl anymore. so if you want her, you have to prove to her you can be serious enough for a relationship but not serious enough that you get clingy and overbearing and propose within six months."

mat blinked at you. "how the hell does that make sense?"

"believe me, there's a balance."

he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "and you would know this how?"

"well i uh--" you sputtered. your nerves were only encouraged by his light chuckling. "all girls know these things! we don't want overly possessive boyfriends but we also want someone to care. it shouldn't be that hard to comprehend."

"it's not," he defended. "just a little...complicated, don't you think?"

"alexa's a complicated girl!"

he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "okay so how do i show her i mean business but that i'm not looking to settle down and get married?"

"i guess i could talk you up to her in passing conversation?"

"what would you tell her? we don't know each other very well."

"i know more than you think!"

"please, share with the class."

shit.

do you confess that in the two years you'd worked for the islanders that you watched him borderline obsessively?

"well, i know you're good with kids, if your interactions with young fans is anything to go by. you don't like dogs, which is a bit of a red flag in my book, but alexa shouldn't mind. you're a fantastic hockey player, and a great teammate."

"is that enough to convince her?"

you grimaced and shook your head. "she's a bit more personable. she one time broke up with a guy because he was rude to waitstaff. she would want to know how you treat non millionaires and authority figures. for instance, how much do you tip a server?"

"25%," he replied. "but why does that matter?"

"alexa used to be a server throughout college and couldn't stand people who she knew had money but would cheap out on the tip because she didn't greet them fast enough."

mat opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, when his phone started ringing. "shit," he mumbled. "listen, i gotta go. it was nice talking to you, i'll be in touch." he pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and put them on the table before getting up and walking away.

you waited for the server to come back before paying the bill and told them to keep the change before you got up and walked home.

when you got back to your apartment, alexa was already standing at the door, waiting to be let in.

"finally," she said. "i was wondering when you were gonna come home."

"you could've texted me," you said while unlocking the door.

she followed you inside and shut the door behind her. "i could've, but your phone was on do not disturb for some reason, so i doubt my texts would've gone through in time. where were you anyway?"

"getting lunch with a friend from work," you replied.

alexa groaned as she all but collapsed onto your couch. "please tell me it's not tyler. i hate how he treats you."

you dropped your bag by the door and headed back to your room, but not before calling over your shoulder. "he's not that bad, he's like that to everyone!"

"doesn't make it any better!"

you changed into some comfortable clothing before joining alexa on your couch. "did you have fun the other night when we went out to the bar?"

alexa looked at you weirdly.

shit. you must not have been as subtle as you thought.

"i did," she said. "but what makes you ask."

you shrugged. "i know it's been rough with your breakup lately, but i saw you talking to mat and you looked happy."

alexa groaned and sunk into the couch. "i thought we talked about this already. he knows he's attractive, it's such a turn off. you should've seen the way he was talking, it was like he knew that if he gave me a look, i'd be going home with him."

"well he's really nice, i promise! you should see him with kids at the stadium--"

"you mean the kids who idolize him? yeah i bet he's real nice to them."

okay, switch strategies.

"he tips waitstaff really well!"

"with what he makes? he better." alexa sighed. "listen, i'd be more impressed if he could tell me anything about you, but seeing as you've worked there for two years and he couldn't tell me anything other than your name the other night says all i need to know about him. so can we talk about something else?"

you nodded, ignoring the jutting pain in your chest at her words. you knew well enough that mat knew nothing about you, why would he? but to hear it come from the mouth of someone else stung.

getting them together was gonna be harder than you originally thought.

step two: get them interacting

you were dreading the next time you saw mat for the first time in your life. you were in your cubicle editing photos from the game that night to be posted tomorrow to distract yourself from the inevitable conversation you'd have to have with him. tyler, unfortunately got the shot that was posted immediately to the islanders' instagram account to celebrate their win over the rangers and he had no problem letting you know it. and while it was annoying, it served as a great distraction from your other problem.

"maybe you'll get it next time," he sneered as he packed his bag. most days you hated the fact that you were cubicle neighbors, but neither of you were powerful enough to request moving spaces. and even if you could, you knew it would just make you look hard to work with.

"have a good night, tyler," you replied, not even wanting to give him any ammo to use against you.

the door shut behind him with a click, locking you into sweet sweet silence.

until a minute later when your phone went off with a text message.

mat barzal: where ru?

mat barzal: wanna go to a bar with me and tito and you can bring alexa?

you scoffed. "you can bring alexa," you mocked under your breath. "like that's not the sole reason for you asking me to go out tonight." you packed your bag up and shot a quick text to alexa, asking if she wanted to go out. she replied with an immediate yes, asking where to meet you, which prompted you to reach out to mat who sent you an address in response.

which is how you ended up on a sidewalk in front of an incredibly busy bar with alexa next to you.

"i've never been here," she remarked. "how'd you hear about it?"

"oh, a coworker mentioned it," you said in what was hopefully a nonchalant manner.

she looked at you a moment too long before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. "you find us a place to sit and i'll grab our drinks!" she shouted over the music.

you quickly looked around for mat and tito, the former who'd texted you the second they arrived. you saw a head of dark hair and immediately knew it was mat. you hurried over, panting when you arrived from having to shove your way towards them.

"you made it!" anthony said. you looked at him and mat, eyes bouncing back and forth between them, when you realized your first problem.

they were sitting on opposite sides of the booth.

which meant you would have to sit with one of them, and alexa would have to sit with the other. if mat had it his way, he'd sit next to alexa, but you knew your friend wouldn't have that. she'd feel manipulated and uncomfortable.

"is there a problem?" tito asked.

you gestured to the booth. "alexa will want to sit by me. she's still not convinced about you, mat."

mat, to his credit, didn't look shocked or offended, he just shrugged and moved to tito's side. "this work?" he asked as you sat down.

you nodded.

"so what's the plan? how should i approach this?" he asked.

"keep the conversation on her, when she tries to turn it on you or about your career, focus on other people, applaud your teammates, your coaches, but whatever you do, don't talk about yourself too much. she already thinks you have a big ego."

"to be fair," tito started. "he does."

mat didn't even dignify that with a response. "so keep the conversation on her and others, got it."

alexa found you a moment later and didn't do a great job covering up her disinterest in sitting with mat and beau.

"i couldn't find anywhere to sit," you explained.

alexa didn't buy it if her eyes bouncing around the bar to find empty tables said anything. but she sat next to you anyway, placing your drink in front of you.

"you remember mat and anthony from the other night, right?" you asked.

she just hummed and took a sip of her drink.

"so, alexa," mat started. "what do you do for a living?"

she stared at him and sighed. "i'm a vet tech," she said, but offered no other information.

"she especially loves the cats," you added.

"cats are great!" mat said a little too enthusiastically.

alexa drained the rest of her glass and got up, leaving the three of you behind.

the second she was gone, beau broke into laughter, slapping his own chest. "that was fucking hilarious," he said.

"yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," mat grumbled, swirling his cup around instead of making eye contact with anyone.

"i'm serious, i don't think i've ever seen you fail so quickly. it's kind of amazing."

mat focused his eyes on you. "what did i do wrong? i tried asking about her life and she seemed wholly uninterested."

you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe she feels cornered?"

tito took a sip of his beer. "i think you need to workshop this. clearly, neither of you thought this through."

you groaned and rested your head on the table.

this was already harder than you anticipated.

step three: reevaluate and regroup

you met mat in a booth of a coffee shop after you got off work. he was staring at his phone when you walked in, completely unaware that you even existed.

which wasn't abnormal considering you didn't even think he knew who you were a few months ago. but the second the barista called your order out, his head whipped up.

you could've sworn time stopped at that moment.

you made your way towards him and plopped down in the booth opposite of him.

"hi," you smiled. "what's up?"

"i don't know what to do, she doesn't seem interested in me." he groaned into his hands before running one of them through his hair.

god he was so attractive.

you snapped out of your reverie. "listen, you've got what it takes, we just need to reevaluate our strategy. i think the bar thing was a bad idea, she felt ambushed and it probably set us back a little, but i have an idea."

he leaned his forearms on the table. "let's hear it."

"practice dates," you said.

mat blinked once. twice. a third time before he spoke. "practice dates?"

"okay hear me out," you said, pulling a notepad out of the bag you brought. "i have a list of things that alexa likes to do and i was thinking, you and i can do them and work on conversations and how to approach her. so when the time comes, you don't feel out of your element."

"who said i feel out of my element?"

you stared at him. "you said last night 'cats are great!' and expected conversation to flow naturally."

"okay so not my best moment."

"not even close." you sighed. "listen, i wanna help you, and i feel like this is your best bet in winning her over."

mat ran a hand down his face. "okay fine. what's the first date?"

practice date one: pumpkin patch

to be quite frank, you were nervous when proposing the idea, scared that he wouldn't be willing to sit in a car with you for three hours just to get to the pumpkin patch. and maybe he would find it childish.

when in fact, he said nothing about the long car ride, he even offered to pick you up from your apartment, and laughed when you offered to pay for gas. when you finally arrived, you jumped out of mat's car like an excited child. mat stepped out like he knew he was the romantic lead in a movie, suave and collected.

you two could not be more opposite of each other.

it took everything in you to focus on the task at hand, and not fall deeper in love with him. but how could you not? when he looked so boyfriend in a coat and flannel and beanie and jeans that hugged his thighs just right--

you were getting ahead of yourself. you were doing this for mat and alexa, not your own selfish ambition.

"so what's the plan?" he asked after locking his car with the key fob.

you shrugged. "what would you do if you were here with alexa?" the words tasted bitter in your mouth. it was such a painful reminder, knowing that this wasn't real and was in service to hook him up with your friend.

mat looked around and shoved his hands in his pockets. "corn maze?" he pointed. you must've made a face because he spoke up again. "what?"

"alexa hates corn mazes."

he paused. "to the pumpkin patch then?" you nodded and followed his lead. "so how did you meet alexa?"

"she was my first roommate in college, we shared the smallest dorm in history."

"that sounds like an exaggeration."

"says the man who never went to college."

he laughed. "i don't need a college education to identify a hyperbole when i hear one."

you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "a hyperbole? what a word."

"laugh it up," he said. "but i'm not a complete idiot, you know."

"never said you were. i just haven't heard anyone use hyperbole in a sentence outside of my english lit classes."

"well, you should know i'm full of surprises."

the two of you approached the pumpkin patch and started weaving between families and the occasional rogue toddler. mat had to tug you out of the way a few times when you about stepped on a child because you were gazing at pumpkins.

"if you don't mind me asking," mat started. "why are you helping me? you don't owe me anything. i feel like i'm taking advantage of your kindness."

you shrugged. "you wouldn't be the first one."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you looked up from the pumpkin patch to see mat's brows furrowed together and his mouth twisted in a cute frown.

"well, i mean, i've been told i have a habit of being a doormat at times."

"who said that?" his tone had changed to a softer one.

"huh?" you asked.

"who called you a doormat?"

you shrugged again, that seemed to be your go to move around him. you squatted down to look at a particularly fat pumpkin, inspecting all sides of it before you responded. "i've heard it all my life, some have said it in meaner ways, others have been nicer about it."

"i'm sorry," he said.

you stood to your full height which was still much shorter than mat's. "why? it's not like it's not true."

"what if i helped you?"

it was your turn to frown. "help me? with what? ice skating?"

mat rolled his eyes. "no, with confidence. maybe even get you a date."

you guffawed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what?"

mat pulled you out of the way of yet another child and kept his hand on your elbow until you were clear of the pumpkin roots. and if your heart stopped for a few seconds, that was your business, no one else's. "you heard me. you're young, single, and attractive and you spend all your free time at the office or DDing for your friends. we can work on your confidence and get you out there."

"i don't know..." though your mind was still focused on the fact that he'd called you attractive.

"what about that other photographer guy? tony?"

you cackled. straight up burst into laughter. "tyler? that's fucking hilarious mat."

"what?" the two of you continued down the patch, occasionally gazing at the pumpkins, but mostly just talking. "you two are always talking."

talking or being insulted?

you shook your head. "enough about me, we're here for alexa."

mat nudged you with his elbow. "actually we're here for me to win alexa over."

you kicked a small stone with the toe of your shoe and said nothing. the tragedy of your own personal situation wasn't lost on you, neither was the idiocy of your plan. what were you thinking, spending your free time with mat? to win over your friend?

it was textbook self inflicted torture.

"where'd you go?" mat nudged you again. "i lost you there for a second."

you bent down and picked up a smaller pumpkin. "what do you think about this one?"

"it looks fine. you're ignoring my question."

you juggled the pumpkin back and forth in your hands to determine if you liked it or not. "what question?" you looked up just in time to see mat roll his eyes, but he dropped the topic anyway.

the both of you walked over to the stall to pay for the pumpkin. you reached into your tote bag to grab your wallet, but mat was already holding out a five dollar bill to the vendor.

"you didn't have to--"

"do you wanna get some cider?"

you could've started drooling at the idea of drinking cider. "yes!"

mat chuckled and started walking towards the cider stand where a small family waited in front of you. "does alexa like cider?" he asked.

"what a random question."

"well you're not giving me anything to work with!"

you almost groaned. because he was right. you got caught up in the idea of hanging out with mat outside of work that you forgot the real reason both of you were there in the first place.

"she loves cider, especially when it's spiked. she also loves mulled wine." mat scrunched his face up. "not a fan?" you asked.

"warm wine? no thank you."

mat paid for the cider, going as far as having the cash ready before you could even order.

"you really don't have to keep buying things. i can pay!"

"oh this is all a bribe to get you to go through that corn maze with me."

your face dropped. "alexa doesn't like mazes."

"so i won't go with her next time, but you're here now and i wanna go."

you let him drag you along until you were in the thick of the maze. you let him guide the both of you through it like he knew what he was doing even though you were pretty sure you hit every possible dead end in the maze.

two little kids ran past giggling and smiling. "we found the end, mama!"

you almost laughed at the look of irritation on mat's face.

it took an obscene amount of time to get through the maze, and mat was in a much worse mood when it was all over.

needless to say, the ride home was quiet.

practice date 2: dinner at mat's

you weren't quite sure what mat was planning on making for dinner, but you were willing to bet the smell of smoke wasn't a part of the plan.

the scene when you walked into his apartment could only be described as chaotic. the smoke detector was going off and when you walked into the kitchen, mat was going between waving a towel under the detector and opening every window in his kitchen.

"you weren't supposed to be here yet!" he shouted over the noise before darting past you into the living room to open the windows in there.

you dropped your things on the counter and took over waving the towel under the smoke detector.

"what happened?" you asked.

"i suck at cooking!" he came back in the kitchen and took the towel from you. "i'm taller," he said like that was an explanation.

the beeping ceased and left the two of you in a hazy apartment. when you looked around the kitchen, you saw what had to be charred meat and veggies in a skillet.

"okay so when you cook dinner for alexa, don't. just hire a chef."

mat held up his phone. "or order pizza. you in?"

"do i get to financially contribute?"

he gestured to your belongings on the counter, one of which was a bottle of red wine. "you already did."

"you can't keep buying everything," you said. "it's not fair."

"why not? i'm the millionaire here, i'd look like a dick if i made you pay for anything. besides, when i date alexa, it's not like i'm gonna let my girlfriend pay."

girlfriend.

right.

that was the end goal for him.

you kept forgetting.

you cleared your throat and dusted your hands on your pants despite them being clean.

"you can go pick out a movie or something while i order the pizza?" mat suggested.

you had no choice but to nod and wander into his moderately decorated living room. it definitely still looked like a bachelor pad, but if a bachelor had enough money to hire someone to say he needed artwork, decorative pillows, and a couch that wasn't brown.

you were scrolling through netflix when mat came into the living room and plopped on the sectional beside you, shucking his shoes off. why he was wearing shoes in his own apartment was beyond you, but you weren't one to judge.

"you look nice," he commented, as if just noticing you for the first time that night.

you looked down at your own outfit. it was a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. "this?"

"are you wearing something else that i'm not seeing?" he teased.

before you could die of embarrassment, you switched subjects. "what do you want to watch? i haven't made a decision yet." you handed the remote to him, hating being the one to make the decisions.

he shifted on the couch so he was sitting up instead of lounging on the chaise and took the remote. "what's alexa's favorite movie?"

"birdbox."

mat did a double take. "she likes birdbox?"

you shrugged. "she's into suspense."

mat was about to select birdbox until he took one look on your face. you don't know what you looked like but it made him pause. "but are you?"

"why do you care what i like?"

"because you're here, alexa's not. i don't wanna make you watch something you'd hate." mat shifted on the couch. "why don't we work on those dating tips i talked to you about."

"oh i don't think--"

"why not?" he asked. "you're always so jittery whenever we talk about it."

oh.

was he referring to the other day after practice when he saw tyler tormenting you and mat misinterpreted that as flirty banter? mat had come up to you afterwards to give you pointers but you practically ran away.

"it's not that simple, mat."

"i think it is."

you threw your hands up. "well then, by all means you must be right."

"what's with the attitude?" he asked. "did i say something?"

it was a good question. one that shouldn't make you want to cry, but life felt overwhelming in all the worst ways. between tyler harassing you every second of every day and pretending like you weren't in love with mat so you could set him up with your friend, and taking photos for games and practices, you were exhausted.

"i'm not sober enough for this," you said before getting up and popping the cork on the wine bottle and drinking straight from it.

it was another thirty minutes before the pizza arrived and the both of you were well on your way to wine drunk, you more so than mat. who could blame you though? your life was a sad excuse for a single twenty-something and you were tired of thinking about it.

"truth is," mat started with a mouth full of pizza. "you just need to act like you're the best thing that's ever happened to this city. guys love confident women."

"and that's your biggest issue with alexa right now."

"wanna switch personalities?"

you laughed.

"what?" he asked. "what's so funny?"

"i'm trying to picture you without an ego and i don't think it's possible."

mat rolled his eyes but had a smile on his lips anyway. it shouldn't have made your heart pound the way it did, but you were weak for that man, you had been since day one.

so you switched courses.

"okay," you started. "how do i make get a guy to wanna date me?"

mats eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "you're serious?"

you nodded. "as a heart attack."

mat sat up on the couch and faced you. his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for something but couldn't find it. maybe he was looking for a reason to change the subject.

"alright," he said. "you gotta be confident, even if you don't feel like it. most guys don't mind a little insecurity, they find it kinda cute, but a guy who wants an insecure girl is a red flag."

"should i be taking notes or...?" you took a large sip of your wine and smiled when mat rolled his eyes again.

"secondly, you can't be hiding behind your camera all the time."

you guffawed. "i do not hide behind my camera!"

"oh give me a break, you totally do! you walk around like it's a safety blanket or something."

"because it is!"

"exactly my point! thirdly, chivalry isn't dead. if he's not doing basic things like opening doors, walking on the closest side to the street, and he's only talking about himself? run."

"what? he can't be a good person if he doesn't do those things?"

"if he can't do a basic kind gesture, he's not going to do larger ones. sorry. i don't make the rules."

you blinked. "but you kinda are making the rules for me, right now."

"you're such a smart ass, just like tito."

"is that a good or bad thing?"

mat shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "hard to say, i love tito most days."

love.

don't be an idiot and read into things.

"so," mat leaned back into the couch. "i gave you advice, it's my turn. how do i win over alexa?"

you thought back to the conversation you had with her a few weeks ago about mat. and one comment stuck out the most. "i think the biggest sin you committed was not knowing anything about me despite working together for two years," you admitted shyly.

mat's brows furrowed in that cute way they always did. "what do you mean?"

"she said she's not impressed by you being nice to kid fans or tipping waitstaff. she would be impressed if you knew anything about me because i'm not a hockey player."

mat recoiled as if physically struck by your words. "she thinks that low of you?"

"no she didn't mean to say you were--" you paused. "me? you think she has a low opinion of me?"

mat crossed his arms. "she just insinuated that you weren't important enough for me to know."

"no! that's not what she meant! she was saying that you think you're better than me."

"that's not even remotely true." and he said it so confidently, you almost believed him. "it's not, you know that right?"

you hesitated and you might as well have punched him in the gut.

mat said your name so softly like it was precious. like it was something special. "you have to know, i have never, not once, believed you were beneath me."

you gave him a small smile. "you don't need to explain yourself to me, mat."

he reached over and grabbed your hand, tugging on it lightly. "no. i need you to know, you are important to me."

your heart fluttered at his words, or maybe it was the fact that you were holding hands and you could feel the calluses rub against your own palm.

you could've stayed there forever.

"jesus fucking christ, why does it smell like something burned in here?" the front door opened and slammed sending you and mat sprawling apart like you hadn't been locked in a staring contest and holding hands. tito rounded the corner and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "what do we have here?"

"nothing!" you squeaked out. "i was just leaving!"

"no you weren't," mat started, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't place. "beau was just leaving."

you looked as confused as tito was. "what? no i'm not." you glanced back at mat who could not have looked more annoyed if he tried. "or i can...?"

"no!" you said. "i need to get going anyway. got work tomorrow, long day."

mat stood up when he realized there was no convincing you. "i can walk you out--"

"don't worry about it! i'm a big girl." you were leaving when you heard whisper shouting. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying, but before you shut the front door behind you, you could've sworn you heard them mention "liking her."

you did your best not to let the talking break your heart even more.

practice date 3: ice skating

you made mat pick out the last date but he hadn't told you what it was, just asked for your shoe size.

aside from that?

radio silence.

maybe you should've seen this coming. you'd talked to alexa a few days ago and she'd suggested that maybe you should put yourself out there more, find a date, find a boyfriend, find some happiness.

after practice, you found yourself scrolling through your camera roll in one of the seats in the arena when a pair of skates came into your peripheral. you looked up expecting to see a mop of black hair and hazel eyes.

but it was tito with a sheepish grin on his face.

"hey," he said.

you put your camera down and smiled. it was always good to see tito, with the exception of the other night. "hey, what can i do for you?"

anthony playfully rolled his eyes. "you don't live to serve us," he said. "i don't need anything, just wanted to say hi."

"hi!" you smiled even brighter.

"i was wondering, what're you doing friday night?"

you jaw dropped. and it must've been funny because tito threw his head back and laughed. "what?"

tito smiled at you and gestured towards you. "i was wondering if you'd want to get dinner with me on friday. i don't know what time you get off work, but i was thinking 6:30?"

you blinked. you blinked again. "are you serious?"

"why wouldn't i be? you're attractive, single, and i like your company. i think we'd have a fun time."

"okay," you smiled again. have you ever smiled this much in your life? you were unsure. "okay yeah, friday at 6:30 is perfect."

"great," tito grinned. "can i have your number?" you handed your phone over rather quickly, watching as he typed his number in and texted himself. "i'll see you," he said.

"bye tito!" you waved until he was out of sight. and even then, you continued to stare at the spot he was once occupying.

"what the hell was that about?"

you jumped about a foot in the air when tyler made his comment from over your shoulder. "jesus fucking christ, tyler." you placed a hand over your heart to feel how rapidly it was beating. "are you some sort of lurker?"

"what did beauvillier want with you?" he condescended.

"it's none of your business." you rolled your eyes when your phone buzzed.

mat barzal: come down to the locker room.

"who is that?" he asked, peering over your shoulder, but you stood up and started walking away.

the both of you headed down to the locker rooms, though you weren't really enjoying the company. tyler kept talking about your lackluster photography skills like the both of you didn't have the exact same job title.

you were rounding the corner when you saw mat leaning up against the wall, still in his hockey gear. tyler, being confronted with an audience, immediately departed. if you had to guess, he probably went back to his office to scheme how else to make your life miserable.

"hey," you said as you approached. "what's up?"

mat reached down and tossed a duffle bag at your feet. "open the bag," he directed.

you squatted and opened the zipper to see a pair of ice skates. you looked up at mat who looked pleased with himself. "what're these for?"

"you ever been ice skating?" he asked.

the short answer? no.

the long answer? once in second grade for a field trip.

"kinda?" you said instead.

mat laughed, like an actual laugh. there was a shiver that went down your spine at the very sound of it. "it's a yes or no question."

"i would say yes, but i was like eight."

"yeah, doesn't really count anymore. grab the bag, let's go." he walked off without a second thought, leaving you scrambling with the bag and rushing after him.

"what's the point of this?" you called after him.

"you told me to pick the last date, this is it!"

you stopped walking immediately. "mat, i don't know if this is a good idea..."

as if sensing your hesitation, mat turned around and walked back towards you. he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly, ducking his head down towards yours. "i'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you, i promise. you have nothing to be afraid of."

"what if my boss sees? what if lou sees? i'm a lot more replaceable than you are."

mat scoffed. "first of all, you're not replaceable. second of all, it's gonna be fine. i'll take all the heat if we get in trouble, which we won't because it's not a big deal." he reached down and grabbed your hand that wasn't holding the duffle bag. "now c'mon."

he led you out to the bench where you sat down and placed your camera on the bench. "take your shoes off and put these socks on." he tossed a pair of socks at your head that you barely caught in time.

"but i'm already wearing socks," you said.

"these are longer, unless you want the boot to cut into your ankle."

safe to say, you put the socks on.

mat knelt in front of you to help put the skates on, tying them up so they were secure on your feet.

you wanted to swoon at the sight of him before you. thankfully, he stood up and helped you to your feet before you could start imagining anything preposterous.

like him proposing.

you watched as mat slid over the top of the bench railing and onto the ice. he turned around and looked at you expectantly.

"oh hell no," you said. "where's the door, i'll use the door."

he cackled as you walked and opened the door, but skated to you anyway to give you some assistance when stepping onto the ice.

"easy does it," he said, chuckling when your grip was practically crushing his fingers. "you're okay, i'm not gonna let you fall."

"it's not you i don't trust, it's me."

mat kept a grip on your hands and led you out to the center of the ice. on the way to the center, you slipped twice, a squeak leaving your lips. you quickly latched onto mat who only laughed at your death grip on his forearms.

"it's not funny," you whined. "i'm terrified."

"you're right, it's not funny. but it is cute." he removed your hands from his arms and skated away from you. "okay, now come to me."

he was easily twenty feet away.

you glanced down at the ice and then back at mat. you would've sat down if you knew how to without eating it. "mat, i'm telling you right now, that's not gonna happen."

"it's not that hard."

"you've been skating since you were a child. i have not." you attempted to take a step forward, but thought differently of it. "besides, how does this help you with alexa?"

"easy," he said. "if i can teach you to skate, i can teach anyone."

"so your idea of a romantic date is a girl busting her ass over and over for an hour?"

"not quite," he said, skating circles around you.

literally.

"you're being an ass,' you whined. "why did the one practice date you pick out have to do with hockey?"

"because it's what i love. and if a girl can't hang with it, our relationship is doomed to fail."

you rolled your eyes. "that's a bit dramatic. you can appreciate and love hockey without having to ice skate. thousands of fans do it all the time."

"but my girlfriend won't be just a fan, now will she?"

your heart sank at the idea of alexa and mat in a similar situation. alexa actually trying to skate and looking beautiful while doing so. you pictured them laughing as she slipped and mat catching her before she could fall.

"you okay? i lost you again." mat skated right up to you, leaving maybe a foot of space between the two of you.

"yeah," you breathed. "just thinking."

mat smirked and skated backwards. "uh oh. that can't be good. less thinking more skating. would it help if i pushed you?"

"no!" you shrieked. "it definitely wouldn't!"

but it was too late. mat was skating up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. "relax," he murmured. "i'm not gonna push you without a little guidance."

relax?

relax?

when his hands were on your waist and he was mumbling in your ear?

how the hell was anyone supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?

mat added a little pressure to your back. and suddenly you were moving. "that's it," he praised. "now just move your feet."

it was easier with mat's hands on you, the sensation forcing you to focus on the warmth of his palms than the fact that you were skating on sharp knives.

"see? this isn't so bad, right?"

it wasn't too terribly bad, truth be told it was just like roller skating, just ten times scarier.

"yeah," you said. "not too bad."

"so you're ready to go by yourself?" his hands starting slipping away, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

"i--"

but he was already skating away. he stopped about twenty feet away and smiled. "skate to me."

"mat--" your voice shook at the idea. skating with him was one thing, skating to him was another.

"hey," he said quietly. "eyes on me, okay? i'm not gonna let you fall, if i think you're gonna fall, i'll catch you. i was the fastest skater in 2020, remember?"

you nodded. "just like roller skating," you mumbled.

"except better," mat added.

you took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely gliding towards him. you started picking up pace the closer you got to him.

"mat?"

"you're doing great!" he smiled.

"i don't know how to stop!"

mat laughed even as he caught you. his arms gripped your biceps and his smile was a mile wide. "you okay?" he asked.

you couldn't help but smile. "yeah," you breathed.

there was hardly any room between the two of you. your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the proximity, the rush of skating alone, who knew? you surely didn't.

you looked into his eyes and could've sworn his gaze dropped to your chin, but you were known for your hopeless romantic delusions, so maybe--

"hey!" whatever trance you were in ended when you saw a man in coveralls standing at the end of the rink. "time's up, i gotta clean the ice!"

"sorry!" mat called. "we'll get out of your way!" he gently took your hand in his and skated the both of you back to the benches.

mat helped you take off your skates and walked you back up the tunnel towards the locker rooms. the both of you stopped just outside of them, considering mat still had to shower and go home while you had the rest of the day to do your work.

"this was really fun," you said. "terrifying but fun."

"i'm glad you enjoyed it." his smile just about made you collapse into a puddle.

but you got a grip on reality and nodded. "well, i hope this helps with alexa, i'll try to talk to her in the next day or so, see where her head is."

mat's jaw clenched but he nodded. "i'll be seeing you."

"bye, mat."

you might as well have been on cloud nine by the time you got up to your office. you were in a different zone, focused on the way that mat's hands felt on your body, in your own hand. the feeling of euphoria wouldn't leave your body, you were sure of it. nothing could take that feeling away.

until you got to your desk and saw tyler.

who was sitting on your desk and using a paper clip to get the dirt out from under his nails.

"what were you and barzal doing?" tyler asked, moving off your desk, instead choosing to lean up against the cubicle.

you ignored him.

"i asked you a question," he said.

"i heard you, tyler. but i have work to do." you signed into your computer and plugged your camera in, ready to start uploading and editing photos from practice and the game yesterday.

“do you really think sleeping your way through the roster will help you get your pics chosen for the social media accounts?” he sneered.

you froze, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "what?"

"i said--"

"don't repeat it." another voice joined in and when you turned around to see who came in, you were flabbergasted.

mat.

"barzal i--"

"where do you get off talking to her like that? talking to anyone like that?" he stepped into the room, chest puffed out.

in all of your time working for the isles, mat had never been much of a fighter, but he looked ready to pummel tyler if need be.

"mat, it's fine," you mumbled.

"no, it's not. is this how he normally talks to you?"

you said nothing.

that only seemed to make mat angrier. "you need to go to HR about this. this is workplace harassment. now apologize," he directed at tyler.

"for what? speaking the truth? is this how you think you can get ahead in life?" tyler said to you. "first beauvillier now barzal?"

you and mat both froze. in the corner of your eye you could see his jaw clench before he looked at you.

"can you do your work from home?" he asked.

you nodded. "i just have a shit ton of editing but i can do that on my laptop--"

"great. i'll take you home."

"but my boss-"

"if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. let's go." mat was spinning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as he came in. you were unplugging your camera and logging off your computer, packing up your things, before sprinting after him.

"mat! mat, wait up!"

he stopped walking and looked at you, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes. "can you wait for me outside the locker room? i still have to shower and change."

you nodded. "why did you come upstairs anyway?"

"to give you the skates." you glanced down at his empty hands. "i forgot the bag, and by that point, i was too lazy to go down and get them without you."

the both of you continued your walk until you got to the locker room.

"i'll be a few minutes and then i'll take you home."

true to his word, mat was only gone for ten minutes before coming out freshly showered and ready to go home. neither of you spoke until he was pulling the car out of the parking garage.

"what did tyler mean when he mentioned tito?" mat asked after moments of silence. his fists were gripping the wheel tightly, though you didn't know why.

"tito asked me to dinner on friday."

mat's fists tightened their grip on the wheel and his jaw clenched so hard, you were afraid he was going to chip some teeth.

"oh." was all he said.

"something wrong? i just figured for once i wouldn't be hiding behind my camera like you said and i thought it would be fun, you know? we get along fine. why? do you think i shouldn't go?"

"no!" mat said quickly. "no, i just, it just caught me by surprise is all. i'm sure you'll have fun."

"and i can give you alexa's number if you want to ask her out! she's coming over tonight so i can talk you up now that i know more about you, make it seem more genuine."

"yeah," he choked out. "yeah, that would be great."

mat pulled up to your apartment a few minutes later and watched as you got out. "i meant what i said in your office," he said. "you need to tell HR about tyler's behavior."

"i will." you probably wouldn't. "thanks, mat."

he nodded as you shut the door and waited for you to go inside before driving off.

you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door. as you shut the door behind you, you felt the weight of today bearing down.

tito asking you out.

the moments with mat.

the slut shaming comment from tyler.

when did your life get so dramatic?

step 4: get her to say yes

you had alexa over that night, armed with a million reasons why she should say yes to mat.

and the one reason why she should say no was locked deep in your chest. your happiness and affection for him shouldn't deter her.

besides, you would eventually get over your silly little crush, right?

right?

"so what's new in your world? i feel like you've been so busy lately. it's kind of strange," alexa said before shoveling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. it should've been disgusting, but she made it look graceful.

"oh you know, just working."

"is that why you were in the middle of nowhere a few weeks ago? work?"

"what?"

"i checked your location, you were on a farm. didn't realize the isles was doing photoshoots that far out of the city."

"oh they're not," you explained. "i was with mat, we were just hanging out."

alexa blinked. "since when do you and mat hang out?"

ouch.

but true.

you couldn't come out and say it could you? that the reason the two of you started interacting was because he wanted to date alexa?

no, you couldn't.

so you lied.

"oh, the social media team wanted me to get some information on mat, like a get to know you segment. they wanted something outside of work, so we were just hanging out so i could write this article on him."

a complete lie. you haven't had to write anything on anyone since your college journalism class. but alexa didn't know that. you never told her what you do all day for work. for all she knew, you could be running the tiktok account.

alexa raised an eyebrow. "and how did that go? was he talking about himself the entire time?"

"no!" you said. but then you paused, realizing that getting defensive would just look suspicious. "he told me a lot about how he doesn't like mulled wine and loves corn mazes despite being absolutely shitty at them. he loves his friends and hockey, obviously. he refuses to let anyone pay for anything while you're with him because he has money and likes to treat people. and he sticks up for the people that are important to him. and once you're in with him, you don't have to worry about your place in his life or how important you are because he will keep reminding you."

alexa stared at you. "are you sure you don't want to go out with him?"

you guffawed and hoped that it covered up your embarrassment. "what? no! he's clearly into you, and i think you should go for it."

"give me one good reason why."

"because he's kind, and nothing like your ex. he cares, legitimately cares about people and their lives." you sighed, not sure if you were convincing her. “it’s just one date, lex. if you don’t like him at least you got a free meal.”

alexa chewed her lip, letting you anguish in silence. "fine. you can give him my number and we'll set up a date. i trust you."

"fantastic!" you were already pulling your phone out. "he'll be so excited--"

"only if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him."

you opened and closed your mouth. "i don't have feelings for him," you said with as much confidence as you could.

"honey..."

"no! i don't! if i had feelings for him, would i be going out to dinner with his best friend on friday?"

alexa didn't look fully convinced, but your date with tito was a welcomed distraction as she started rattling off questions about what you would wear and where he was taking you.

alexa left two hours later, meaning you could go to bed at a reasonable hour. as you laid in bed, you grabbed your phone and opened mat's contact, drafting a text to him.

here's alexa's number. managed to convince her you were worth a shot. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

you locked your phone and put it on do not disturb before you could see his response.

when you woke up the next morning, you saw mat had simply liked the message and left it at that.

by noon, alexa texted you that her date with mat was on saturday.

step 5: let the dates begin

friday came faster than you were anticipating. you kept your distance from mat, unable to look at him without thinking about how he was taking your friend out the very next day and that your interactions from that point on would probably be through alexa.

tyler kept his distance, must've been the threat of going to HR (that you still hadn't gone through with) that had him treating you like a human being with feelings.

as for tito, you probably should've been more excited for your date that night, but all you could focus on was how mat and alexa would fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies and grow old together.

and you would be the sucker who set them up because you could never tell mat no.

a slam against the boards startled you enough to look up from your camera to see tito standing there with a smile on his face.

"you okay?" he asked over the sounds of his teammates on the ice.

you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. but he rolled his eyes.

"we'll talk later," he said before skating away. you smiled and waved at him before you made eye contact with mat who was clenching his jaw. at what? you weren't sure. you even turned around to see if tyler had entered the arena, but you were standing alone.

like you always were.

you were headed back to your desk to do some editing as practice let out, but your name was called before you could get away.

when you looked over your shoulder, you saw tito doing an awkward half jog half walk towards you with a tired grin on his face. "hey," he said. "how do you think practice went?"

you turned to face him fully. "you're asking me? a professional asking some photographer how practice went?"

tito rolled his eyes. "oh c'mon. you've seen our practices, by now you should be able to determine whether or not it was a good one."

"well, no one fought each other, so i guess that's a win."

tito shook his head. "nah, that's when the best practices happen. when everyone's pissed at each other."

you smiled. "shows what i know."

"i think you know more than you think. you've worked here for awhile now."

"i've just gotten better at motion capture photography and following the puck around the ice. doesn't mean i know shit about hockey."

"don't think we don't notice you getting riled up during games when calls are missed."

you tilted your head and furrowed your brows. "we?"

tito shrugged and laughed to himself. "mat usually points it out before i can." you must've made a face because he added more. "it's usually on the bench, he's focused on the game when he's playing."

the both of you turn your heads at the other players walking down the tunnel. when the both of you caught sight of mat, tito smiled.

"will you send me your address? so i can pick you up?"

your attention snapped back to tito. "yeah! of course!"

he nodded and started his walk towards the locker rooms right when mat walked up to you. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just going over details for tonight. he needs my address to pick me up."

mat clenched his jaw again and looked down the tunnel, nodding his head. "that's tonight?"

"yep. at 6:30."

he wouldn't meet your eyes. instead, he looked at your shoes, your camera, the hallway, his teammates, but would never look at your face.

"you and alexa go out tomorrow, right? where are you taking her?"

he ran a hand through his hair and nodded at anders as he passed by. "yeah, we're going out to this sushi place. did you ever talk to HR?"

"well no but--"

"do i need to talk to HR?"

"he really hasn't been that bad lately--"

"because i threatened to tell HR on his ass. he's gonna get comfortable and start insulting you again. it's just a matter of time."

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat form at the idea of mat scolding you, in front of his teammates no less.

mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm not trying to fuss or tell you what to do, i just don't like seeing you treated like that."

"thanks, mat," you mumbled.

he still wouldn't meet your eyes, instead looking down the hallway to see most of his team in the locker room. "i gotta go, but um, good luck tonight. beau's a good guy."

with that he turned on his skates and walked away.

you felt every bit of pathetic as you watched him go.

that night, you settled on a pretty dress that wasn't too fancy, seeing as the only details tito had given you were that it was nicer than an olive garden but not a michelin star restaurant. you were strapping yourself into your heels when you heard a knock on the door.

your phone said it was only 6:15, but maybe tito was accounting for traffic. he never did specify when the reservation was.

"coming!" you called as you put your last heel on and made your way to the door. "i wasn't expecting you this early, you never told me when the reservation was--" your voice trailed off when you opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side.

mat.

he looked more disheveled than you'd ever seen him. it was clear he'd been running his hands through his hair repeatedly just by the strands sticking out every which way.

he still looked handsome.

"mat, what're you--"

"i think you're beautiful. and smart. and passionate about a lot of things. and i think anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot, and i'd fight them if you'd let me." your eyes started welling up with tears. "i think you're perfect for me and if you'd let me take you out, i promise i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

you blinked until the tears disappeared by sheer willpower, not willing to cry in front of him. "that's perfect," you said. "say that to lex and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."

you turned around to grab your bag and coat before you could see mat's face drop in confusion. by the time you turned back around, anthony was standing next to his best friend.

"you ready?" he asked, only glancing at mat out of the side of his eye.

you nodded and squeezed mat's arm as you passed; you couldn't help yourself. "get home safe, mat."

neither you or tito spoke until you got into his car. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. still not fully comprehending why mat showed up at your door in the first place. "he was telling me what he was gonna tell lex tomorrow, i think."

"really." he didn't sound convinced.

"why else would he show up?"

tito mumbled. "i can think of a few reasons."

after he parked the car, tito got out and opened the door for you while you were answering texts from alexa. he offered you a hand to get out that you took.

there were no sparks, no electric sensations going up your arm. just physical contact, just the warmth of his palm in yours.

he led you into the restaurant which was moderately fancy, like he said. the two of you were escorted back to a table in the corner, away from windows and therefore away from prying eyes.

like a gentleman, he pulled your chair out and helped you scooch up to the table.

"i can't remember if i told you this, but you look lovely," he said with a smile.

"thanks," you replied. "you look handsome." and you meant it. if you weren't in love with his best friend, in another life, you could see yourself falling for his blue eyes. and maybe you still could. mat was going on a date with your friend tomorrow so it was better that you just get over him already and--

"so how long have you been in love with mat?"

you choked on your own spit, and for a minute, tito looked apologetic. for his timing, you had to guess, not the question itself.

surely you heard him wrong.

"what?" you asked when you finally got your bearings.

"how long have you loved him?"

nope. you heard him correctly.

"i--"

he leaned forward, arms braced on the table. "you don't have to lie to me, i know. i've known for awhile."

"i--"

but the server came up and asked for drink orders. tito ordered a bottle of red for the table after asking for your thoughts.

you were still reeling from his question, safe to say you didn't have any thoughts.

"sorry," tito started. "i didn't mean to make you feel cornered, i just wanted to be honest."

"it doesn't look like you're the only who needs to be honest, it's me." you fiddled with the ends of your dress.

"why'd you do it? why'd you help set mat up with your friend?"

you shrugged. "i just wanted to see him happy. and i wanted alexa to find a good guy, i knew mat was one. they make sense together."

"even if it makes you unhappy."

"even if it makes me unhappy."

tito nodded, and looked at you like he could see something you couldn't. "let's forget about him for now and just enjoy dinner, eh?"

you gave him your best smile and nodded.

the rest of the night flew by. soon enough, tito was walking you up to your apartment and kissing your cheek before he left. you wished you felt butterflies, or something, but there was no special sensation. nothing to make you weak in the knees.

it was like a kiss from an old friend.

your phone buzzed with a text from alexa.

alexa: how'd your date go?

you typed out a quick response.

it was good. just got home.

you locked your phone and placed it on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. but your phone buzzed again. you thought about ignoring it, but if it was alexa, you didn't want her to think you were upset at her.

mat barzal: did you have fun?

you blinked before typing back.

yeah. tito's great.

not a second later, you got another text.

mat barzal: good. have a good night.

you fell back against your pillows and cursed at the ceiling.

step 6: let them fall in love

you woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until your bladder was about to burst. after the date with tito and the reminder that mat was going out with alexa tonight, it was all enough to put you back in bed as soon as you peed.

and you stayed there, flicking through netflix shows and wallowing in self pity. you usually weren't this pathetic, but the idea of alexa and mat getting cozy on their date that night was enough to warrant your sadness.

you'd pull yourself together by monday when you'd have to go back to work and see how happy she made him.

that's what you kept telling yourself, that at the very least, two of your friends would be happy.

by 7pm, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for takeout to arrive.

when a knock on the door signified your food arrived, you got up with your blanket burrito and walked to the door. you didn't even bother checking before yanking the door open and looking down at your doormat.

only to see a pair of shoes.

"what the hell," you mumbled. "i thought i said leave at the door...' your voice trailed off as your eyes lifted to meet a pair of hazel.

mat barzal.

he had your food in one hand while the other was in his pocket.

"mat?" you whispered. suddenly, you were throwing the blankets off your shoulders and behind you into your apartment where they'd be out of sight.

though it was then you realized you were in sweats and you hadn't done anything with your hair all day so you were probably better off with the blanket burrito instead.

"hi," he breathed. "here's your food." he handed it over, nodding when you murmured your thanks, and shoved his other hand through his hair.

you glanced at the time on the clock on your wall to make sure you weren't hallucinating. "why're you here, mat? shouldn't you be with alexa?"

"that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"oh no," you started panicking, your eyes widened. "did she not show up?" you turned back into your apartment and went to your phone, searching for texts from alexa to explain her absence. "i swear i thought she'd show. she told me she would and she's usually a woman of her word."

you turned around when your front door shut with mat standing in the middle of your living room, looking out of place and right at home somehow.

your phone was vacant of any text messages from alexa.

"no, she showed. i left early."

that caught your attention.

you set your food on the coffee table and turned around to face him.

"why did you leave early? was she rude? are you sick?"

mat shook his head. "no, i'm fine, she was fine. that's not why i'm here. i mean it is but that's--that's--i want, no i need to tell you something."

"tell me what?"

he rolled his eyes. "i'm getting to that." he started pacing your very small living room. you wondered if he knew how much space he took up in your apartment. you wondered if he cared how messy your place was. "i'm just gonna come right out and say it, and don't interrupt me this time." you nodded.

mat ran both hands through his hair for the twentieth time since he showed up. "when i said all those things last night, i wasn't talking about alexa. i was talking about you."

what.

but he continued.

"i'm not gonna pretend i've loved you this whole time, but i fell in love with you along the way. the way you kept analyzing every fucking pumpkin for the perfect one, or how you bring red wine to dinner unprompted because you can't not contribute to something, or the way you trusted me enough to take you on the ice and show you something i love, or how you laugh like no one has ever said something mean to you in your life even when i know that jackass tyler harasses you on the daily. you're kind to literally every person i've ever seen you interact with.

"but i hate the way you shrink yourself like you're afraid to take up space. i hate the way you act like alexa's better than you, like i couldn't fall in love with you when you're literally the most generous, kindest, passionate, and beautiful person i've ever met in my life. because i do love you. every fiber of my being loves you."

you blinked once. twice. and breathed.

"what?" you whispered as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

"i know you just went out with tito last night, and if you like him, if you love him, i get it. he's a great guy and you'd be great together. but i'm asking you to give me a chance, give us a chance. i've had fun with you the last few weeks and i cannot bear the thought of not calling you mine any longer." his chest was heaving as the words rushed out of his mouth.

you rounded the coffee table to get to him. as soon as you were in arms' reach, mat was pulling you to him. with your hips pressed together, your lips just a breath away, you spoke softly.

"please tell me this isn't a dream."

a small laugh escaped his lips and echoed over your own. "it's not a dream, baby. this is real. i love you so fucking much."

"i love you too, mat."

any words you had left to say were lost as he brought your mouths together.

you weren't sure how much time had passed before you separated from him with your hands pressed on his chest. mat tried to follow your lips, but you kept a firm hand on his sternum so you could speak.

"what about alexa?"

mat pulled back. "what about her?"

"you were on a date with her and just left her there?"

"i more than covered the tab if that's what you're afraid of--"

"what if she hates me?"

he laughed. like threw his head back and laughed before kissing you again. "baby, we were there for fifteen minutes and all i could talk about was you. she told me to come here and tell you the truth."

you smiled. "thank god for alexa."

"thank god for alexa."

mat led the two of you over to the couch where you immediately curled into him. he kissed the top of your head, seemingly addicted to having his lips on your body at all times. "you're fired, you know."

you would've pulled away had mat's grip allowed it. "what? fired from what?"

"the wing woman business. you're absolutely horrible at it."

"yeah, well i think it worked out pretty well."

he pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled. "yeah, i think so too."

[cupid-styles]

Ahhhh I need more hockey!harry 😍 I need a whole back story to how they met, when he started teasing her and for what reason and how they end up together. It’s soo good, I especially loved the jealous blurb, I need more! ❤️

ahhhhh thank you cutie!!! here's a blurb on how they met and got to where they are now

also tysm to cutie @harrysonlylover for this collage!!!! this v much represents their relationship <3

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: none!

masterlist | talk to me

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. . .

Things between Harry and Y/N weren’t always like this.

In fact, maybe in another world, they would’ve been friends. Even lovers, perhaps, but that may be pushing the envelope just a tad. They’re both third years, which means they started at the university at the same time. They attended all of those silly orientation meetings and events alongside one another (and few hundred others) that are designed to make incoming freshmen feel more comfortable, but in reality, just make things awkward and cringy. 

(Harry remembers visibly recoiling when he was told to come up with a fun fact, and they weren’t allowed to say anything about their majors or primary sports.) 

(He ended up going with the fact that he was born in London, which their orientation leader, Lisa, was far too interested in — an annoying amount, really. He thinks she tried getting with him at the bonfire that evening, but Harry was so exhausted he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend like he knew what she was getting at.)

But Y/N was in his orientation group, actually. Years later, he still remembers how strong her legs looked in her shorts and the way she tied her hair up with a velvet scrunchie (it was in the middle of July, and the heat was sweltering, sunrays pelting them straight into their backs and necks). He doesn’t recall what her fun fact was, but he does know that they were paired up for some dumb icebreaker activity. In an effort to get them better familiar with the campus, they had to do a scavenger hunt which, to Harry, felt like cruel and unusual punishment considering the rapidly increasing temperature. They were instructed to fill up their free, university-sponsored water bottles and get to work, returning back to the post before 5 pm, where they’d be having some sort of barbecue situation.

At first, Harry thinks she’s shy. Well, she is — she’s quiet and doesn’t say much besides a soft “thank you” when he offers to run her water bottle over to the refill station. She’s focused on the task at hand, though he can both tell that they would rather poke their own eyes out than do it.

“Let’s take a break,” Harry decides, not 20 minutes in. It’s mainly because his eyes zero in on a shady area on the quad, a semblance of shade offered by a large oak tree. Y/N, exhausted herself, doesn’t fight him.

She sits cross-legged in the grass, her posture near impeccable as Harry lays down, fixing his sunglasses into his curly hair. 

“Have you decided on a major yet?” Harry asks, desperate for some sort of small talk — normally, he doesn’t care for niceties, but the near-silence between them is killing him, considering how hot and bored he is.

“I have a ballet scholarship.” she answers simply.

“That’s cool,” he nods, though he doesn’t know a single thing about it, “I didn’t know this school was big on ballet.”

He notices the way she wrinkles her nose, eyes squinting slightly. 

“It’s one of the top dance schools in the country, only behind performing arts universities.”

“Oh. Nice.”

Y/N attempts to shake away his ignorance, head cocking to look down at the male laying at her side. “And you? What are you majoring in?”

And Harry doesn’t really mean it, but it comes out without him even realizing it. It’s just— no one’s asked him that in years, but only because where he’s from, everybody knows he was the top hockey player in the city, number five in the state. Nobody ever expected Harry to go to school to study anything because it was always known that he’d go for hockey. 

So, he snorts. He actually, physically snorts, and the look of apparent disgust is immediately clear on Y/N’s face. Parting his lips, he instantly wishes he can take it back, especially when she straightens her posture to sit up a bit higher.

“I’m sorry, I— I’m here for hockey,” Harry flounders, sitting up on his elbows. “I have a hockey scholarship.”

“And was I supposed to know that?” Y/N fires back with narrowed eyes. He shakes his head. 

“No, of course not.”

“Right,” she says, standing from the shady oasis and brushing her hands over her bum to get any grass off of it, “Let’s finish this.”

. . . 

Harry was wrong about Y/N.

He thought she was shy and quiet, maybe a bit mousy if anything. But no— it turns out, in the few hours that he’s known Y/N, if she doesn’t have a taste for someone, she’ll make it known. It’s not even in outwardly mean ways, it’s just passive aggressive, like dismissive hums at his every attempt at conversation, or him pointing out the ballet studio on their walk through the campus center. He even says “oh, wow, it looks beautiful,” hoping to pet at the excited, passionate part of her personality, but instead, she ignores him. 

She ignores him.

So when they finally finish the stupid scavenger hunt, Harry couldn’t be more eager to be done with it. He tells her he’ll submit the papers to their orientation leader so she can go fuck off and find whatever friends she’s made, and she does, without even a bit of arguing. It makes Harry sigh as he’s walking back to the big barbecue event in the quad. He feels bad for his cocky response — he didn’t even mean it, and it came off so arrogantly that she would probably forever associate him with it until they went their separate ways. 

He has a hockey thing tonight — the rest of the team that aren’t first-years are already back on campus, practicing and gearing up for the start of the season, so the coach invited him to come meet everyone — but he can’t shake how shitty he feels about someone already hating him. He decides he’ll offer an olive branch of cheese fries (he opts out of a burger or hot dog, just in case she’s vegetarian). He spots her sitting at a table in the same shady spot they were in earlier, two other girls by her side as they chat. From here, she looks happy, engaged in casual conversation with people she could’ve met today or known for years — he really can’t tell.

When he makes it over to their table, he expects Y/N to at least look up at him, some sort of recognition in her expression, but instead she just looks… confused? Bored?

“Hey,” Harry greets awkwardly, feeling that their conversation immediately took a pause due to his presence. He places the cheese fries down on the table. “I’m sorry again about today. I don’t want that to be your first impression of me.”

Based on her demeanor, he doesn’t expect a gracious response; if anything, a lackluster “it’s fine” would have sufficed. But instead, her eyebrow quirks and she cocks her head to the side. 

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

It hits Harry in the gut. 

He flounders, his lips parting open and closed like a fish gasping for air. He collects himself a moment later, pressing his mouth into a tight line. 

“You’re right. Must have confused you with someone else,” he replies with a clenched jaw. “Enjoy the fries anyway.”

His legs quickly carry him far away from the table and in the direction of the hockey arena and locker room. He hopes he can pull some skates on and at least shoot around a little, because if he ever has to see that girl’s face again, she’ll have hell to pay.

[luvhughes43]

instagram follows | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: reader and jamie have been in a relationship for maybe 5 or 6 months and reader hasn’t said anything but the girls Jamie follows on instagram really bother her. she doesn’t want to seem controlling because of her past relationships but she is trying to find a way to bring it up to him. so one day she is feeling a little more insecure and Jamie is trying to figure out what’s wrong and she finally snaps and tells him. like she would say “you haven’t unfollowed any girls on the gram since we started dating and it makes me feel horrible about myself”

word count: 1.1k

you knew it was an awful idea even before you decided to scroll through your boyfriends instagram following. it was a bad idea for multiple reasons actually - mainly your own body image issues. however, you had seen what seemed like all the tiktoks in existence about men and their instagram usage pre and post relationship. also, it didn’t help that you kept getting recommended videos of girls' devastating reactions to scrolling through their favourite hockey players following. 

when you first clicked on jamies following list, you thought it wouldn't have been so bad. 

Blondes. 

Boobs. 

Brunettes. 

Canadian University Girls? 

you went into a completely unwarranted deep dive because really, jamie had never given you any reasons to doubt his faithfulness and yet… you were a half-tub deep into your litre of mint chocolate ice cream with grey’s anatomy playing distractedly in the background. 

with jamie gone on a roadie, you had time to push all of your feelings of distrust and discomfort to the back of your mind. you had been in this position before, and with yours and jamies relationship so fresh you didn’t want to say anything. last time you had brought your insecurities up with your ex boyfriend, you had been yelled at and called controlling - which you would rather not relive. even though jamie was much nicer than your ex, you were still having trouble trying to find a way to safely bring the topic up, so you dropped it. 

a week later and jamie had gotten back from his trip, completely exhausted but wanting to spend time with you nonetheless, you had tried your best to forget all about his following list. 

“how’s my girl been?” jamie smiles at you sweetly before wrapping you into a hug. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment. 

“oh you know… the usual,” you shrug, silently loving the glint in jamie’s eyes. he was so pretty. 

jamie brings you back into another hug and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “oh i forgot, trevor wants to know if we’ll go out with him tonight,”

“go out where?”

“some new restaurant downtown,” jamie shrugs carelessly as all men do. “do you wanna go?”

you think about it for a moment, did you really want to go out with trevor? ultimately though, you decide that going out would be the perfect distraction you needed. plus, the extra time with your boyfriend might help reassure yourself about your relationship. 

wrong. three hours later you were dressed, ready, and sat uncomfortably between your boyfriend and his best friend. their friends sat across from you, all of whom were single and making comments on all the girls that walked past your table. their comments weren’t out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t help but wonder if jamie felt the same way as his friends. if like his following suggested - he liked appreciating other girls more than he let on. 

“now she’s hot” 

“you should go ask her for her number! look at her ass,”

“i think i just saw a goddess…” 

“i’d let her dog walk me,”

with each comment you shrunk into yourself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of your body and your outfit choice. jamie was quick to notice of course, leaning into you and whispering, “are you okay?”

when you nodded your head in response, jamie only frowned.

when everyone’s food arrives and you were still acting off, jamie questions you again, “no seriously… what’s wrong?”

you smooth the sleeves of your top, “i don’t want to get into it here,” 

“what?” 

“jamie, please just drop it” 

things were tense between the two of you for the rest of the night and instead of trying to work through things, you simply order another drink at the restaurant. by the time jamie drops you off at your apartment you were tipsy. 

“can you tell me what’s wrong now?” were the first words out of jamie’s mouth when you locked the door behind him. 

“no,” you respond quickly. 

jamie was rightfully confused. “yn…” 

you pretend you don’t hear him. “do you want something to drink?”

“no! I want you to tell me what's wrong with you!” jamie was clearly frustrated and tired of your refusal to talk. 

you whip around towards him - still tipsy and upset. “you want to know what's bothering me?” you start, to which jamie nods enthusiastically. “you’re bothering me!”

“what did i do…?”

he was so oblivious sometimes. “i know i shouldn't have looked through your instagram followings but i can't unsee what i saw! all the girls…. i feel sick about myself,” 

jamie tries to speak but you interrupt him, “and i don’t want to be controlling and force you to unfollow them but… i just feel so awful and ugly and like… you have so many options out there that you’re probably interested in and-”

“okay wait,” jamie finally interjects. he inches closer to you, his mind still reeling from how fast you were speaking. “first of all, i don’t look at other girls,” you scoff but jamie keeps talking. “and if my following was upsetting you, you could've just told me instead of bottling up your feelings and getting upset with me” 

“i use instagram like, once a year and i honestly don't look at my following list it’s from so long ago. so, if you want me to unfollow the people that make you uncomfortable than i one hundred percent will” jamie continues, stepping closer to you and grabbing ahold of your hands. 

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, sad and confused all at once. you hadn’t meant to blow up all at once, but your past relationships would have never been this kind to you and so you were unsure of how to react. you were almost positive that you were being controlling and you suddenly felt sick. “i didn’t mean it-”

“yes you did,” jamie’s voice is soft now, his hands comfortingly trailing patterns up and down your arms. “and by the way, i think you're the most beautiful girl that i’ve ever laid eyes on. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i don’t want anybody else,”

“i don’t want anybody else either,” you breathe a sigh of relief and wrap your arms around your boyfriend. 

the next time you check instagram is when you get a notification that your boyfriend had posted a picture “for the first time in awhile”. the pictures are sweet shots of the two of you, taken by trevor whose presence you can never evade. you get curious again though, clicking on your boyfriends profile only to see that his following had significantly decreased. 

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 6 - ( c.s )

part five

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, angst (i think that’s it??)

a/n: sorry for the long wait you guys i truly hope you enjoy!! if you have recs or anything you want to see fulfilled my inbox is open, it usually takes me a second but i promise ill get to them!

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @55sturn @mattinside @sturnioloco @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @stonermattsgf @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @neatcarrot767

you wake up to the sun shining in your eyes, the glare from the window hitting you dead on. you sigh and roll over to your other side to avoid the annoying light. the beginning of a headache is already creeping on even though you just woke up, which frustrates you even further.

you rub your face and blink a few times to clear your sleepy vision, and then it hits you; you’re still in chris’s bed.

the sinful events of the night come flashing back all at once, and you can feel the nausea settling down in your stomach. chris himself is nowhere to be found, and his side of the mattress is cold.

the sudden urge to throw up is overwhelming. you didn’t plan on spending the night, but you were both exhausted, and the rising and falling of his chest against your back had lulled you to sleep.

you’re still naked, covered only by his soft sheets, and a wave of embarrassment and guilt washes over your body. for a split second you had believed it was just a dream, but it’s all too real.

you throw the covers off carelessly, scrambling to grab your discarded clothes from the night before. you throw them on, not even worried about the fact that they’re all crumpled. you just need to get out.

the door to his room whines as you open it, which makes you cringe. so much for moving around undetected. to make matters even worse, the stairs creak as you descend them, which gives away your exact location.

“morning sleepyhead.”

you hear his voice before you see him, and the sound of it makes you freeze in the hallway. you turn from the front door to face him, forcing yourself to look up from your feet.

chris is standing only a few paces away near the entrance to the kitchen, dressed in dangerously low-hanging sweats, hair messy from sleep. he’s got two plates of breakfast balanced in either hand, like some sort of dreamy nightmare.

for once, you’re certain that he doesn’t know what else to say. he’s just looking at you like he’s waiting for you to speak, waiting for you to be the one to break the tension.

“i have to go home.” you respond meekly, unable to say it with any sort of conviction.

“why are you in such a rush?” he frowns.

“because i have class soon, not to mention i didn’t come back last night and i have nothing to say to my very worried roommates.” your voice is strained, mainly because you’re trying so hard not to scream.

chris raises an accusatory eyebrow. “i really don’t think they would mind if you stayed for breakfast.”

“i need to leave, chris.” you argue, though you don’t make any kind of movement for the door.

he stares back at you defiantly. god, he’s too fucking pretty. it always distracts you when he looks at you this way, with those steely eyes.

“you regret it.”

the sudden claim makes you lose your breath, and you have no idea what to say in return. do you regret it? you don’t even know, but he seems to take your silence as confirmation either way.

“go ahead and leave, then. see if i care.” chris replies sharply, shifting to toss one of the plates of food into the trash.

you hear it thunk against the bottom of the can, and even though you can’t see it happening around the corner, it still kind of breaks your heart. he looks back up at you, his face grim, and you know that any bond you had before has been broken.

“chris—”

“just get the fuck out.” he interrupts, and despite the harsh words, he sounds defeated in tone.

his expression is dark, but it’s not the same kind of darkness you had seen last night. that was lust. this is something entirely different.

you can’t stand to look at him any longer, so you don’t. you just shake your head slightly, turning on your heel and heading out the door. it slams closed behind you, and your vision blurs as you walk down his steps toward your own place.

the fact that tears are stinging your eyes is fucking pathetic, and you hate it. you did the one thing you swore you’d never do; sleep with the enemy.

and the sad part is that you really aren’t remorseful. chris made you feel things last night that you had never felt before, physically and emotionally, and you’ll never be able to look at him the same knowing that.

it worries you. before this you were friends, or maybe the right word would be rivals. either way, you enjoyed it.

but now you’ve entered the gray area; you already know he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re scared of the possibility of catching real feelings if you keep sleeping together.

you don’t want to mess anything up, even though it feels like you already have.

you yank at a strand of your hair anxiously, and your head is in a million different places as you burst through your own front door. your legs don’t even feel as though they’re actually attached to your body. you’re like a ghost, floating up to your room in search of a safe space.

you close the door behind you gently, pressing your back and palms against the wood. your curtains are closed, which at first you’re very thankful for.

millions of times you’ve used these slips of fabric to hide from chris, and you’re doing it again now. it makes you feel like a coward, so you spring forward and rip them open.

to your surprise, his blinds are closed now. there’s a pang in your chest, because you know it means a lot more than the average person would think. he almost never closes them, ever. it makes you feel even worse. you want to scream, to truly cry, to do anything at all.

but nothing happens.

instead you fall back onto your bed, curling into yourself fetal style, arms wrapped around your knees. you close your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep, and eventually you drift off into weightlessness.

your ill feeling doesn’t subside for days. you find it hard to eat, hard to do anything really besides sleep and go to class.

chris doesn’t send you his usual daily texts. you know he’s not going to, but every time your phone buzzes you still hope it’s him.

his blinds stay closed too, which is almost worse. you keep your window exposed though, on the off chance that he’ll open his again.

ramona and cassidy have been trying to help as much as they can, and you’re good at faking it. for the most part, at least. it’s been five days, but they’ve all been unusual. you didn’t even go out and drink during the weekend, though you heard the music blaring next door like usual.

it doesn’t help that it’s been a rather dreary sunday, and the last thing you want to do is get out of bed. the rain patters against your window, and you watch the drops roll down the glass.

it makes your own eyes water, which you suppose is overdue. your sour thoughts have been swirling around your head for far too long, and you haven’t had any kind of release.

no yelling, no crying. just dull lifeless eyes staring at the passing clouds. but you can feel it coming now, and as much as you want to stop it, you can’t.

at first the tears fall silently, that is until you start to sniffle. and then your nose won’t stop running, and your pillow is completely damp, and you feel like a total idiot.

it’s worse that the only person you can chastise is yourself. you’re the one who ran out on him, the one who said you regretted sleeping together.

but you know for sure now that you don’t. you like the way chris makes you feel, the chase. it’s irrational to get this close to him, to risk letting him use and dispose of you. you’re aware that it’s very likely.

chris has a reputation that he wears with pride, and it’s silly to think that you’re going to be the one to change his ways. but you can choose to work with them instead of against them.

you shoot up in bed, almost like a switch has been flipped in your body. you’re still crying, and you know you’re not looking your best with puffy bloodshot eyes. but none of it matters, because you’ve already dealt with radio silence for nearly a week and you need to talk to him. it can’t wait any longer.

you’re not exactly sure what you’re going to say, but you figure it’ll come to you in the moment like it always does with chris. so you race downstairs and jam your sneakers on before flying out the front door.

the rain is freezing on your skin, pattering hard and fast against your body as it mixes with your tears. you can feel yourself getting soaked as your shoes squish into the ground.

you’ve walked this path very frequently in the past few weeks, far more than you ever expected to.

you silently hope this won’t be the last.

you take the steps up to the front door two at a time, not hesitating to pound on the wood as soon as you’re close enough. you’re actually mid-knock when it opens, and your knuckle collides with chris’s chest.

he raises his eyebrows, looking at you incredulously like he’s not sure what you’re doing here or why you just hit him.

you practically jump back, yanking your hand away quickly. “shit—sorry. i didn’t mean to do that.”

your words hang there, waiting to be replied to, but it doesn’t come. chris remains silent, studying you carefully, trying to decide if he should close the door in your face.

but he can’t bring himself to do it, because you look so upset, and he can tell you’ve been crying which breaks his heart more.

“i, uh, came over to say i’m sorry. for what i said the other day.” you continue, taking a single step closer to try and find some shelter from the storm.

“it’s whatever.” he shrugs you off easily.

you bite down on the inside of your cheek, trying to work up the courage to tell the truth. you can tell he’s growing impatient, still angry with the way you left things.

you don’t blame him.

“and i also wanted to say that i…i don’t regret it. and i shouldn’t have left like that.” you finally admit, voice quiet as you gaze at him.

his pretty blue eyes go wide, completely shocked by this confession. that was the last thing he expected you to say, and it makes his cheeks grow warm.

he’s annoyed by the fact that his red face is clearly a dead giveaway, because you smile softly at his reaction.

“really?” he asks.

“don’t make me say it twice, christopher.” you point a finger at him.

he takes a step closer, leaning down just a little bit to look you at you directly. he’s smirking now too, and you know that his ego has made a full recovery.

“i want to hear you say it over and over, baby.” chris breathes against your mouth.

he hovers, and you know you need to prove yourself to him. so you wrap a damp hand around the back of his neck and pull him the rest of the way, smashing your lips against his.

all of your pent up aggression and intensity go into the kiss, and it’s making you weak in the knees as one of his hands finds your hip and the other finds your ass. he clearly doesn’t care about the fact that you’re dripping wet, and you suddenly feel like you’re wet in a completely different way.

you can also tell he’s trying to be dominant, but you’re the one who ends up clamping down on his bottom lip lightly. he gives your ass a firm smack in response, and you gasp just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

after the time apart, you can’t seem to get close enough to him, and you’re clawing at his back like you want to crawl into his skin. chris is actually the one to push himself from you first, though he still rests his forehead against yours.

“come inside?”

you laugh under your breath. “i’m literally soaked.”

“you’re also shivering, and you should probably get into a shower.” he attempts to persuade you, leaning in to steal one more peck.

you smile against his lips, shaking your head once he pulls away. “i think i’m too terrified of your bathroom.”

“well yours is free too.” chris points out before slipping by you into the rain, his fingers closing around your own as he pulls you along.

and you let him, following the boy back out into the downpour because you truly want to.

[thedevilrisen]

Prompt Poll - One

Jack Hughes x sister!Y/N

Prompt: “You don’t have to tell me anything, we can just sit here”

Description: Jack’s sister has relationship troubles, Jack knows what she needs.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say 'Hi' if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Crying, swearing, thats probably it! Mainly just good brother Jack fluff.

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

-:-

Wet sniffles and the front door opening and closing with a quiet click an hour before it was suppose to is something that concerns three exceptionally protective brothers very much.

Quinn was the first to launch into action, tearing off the couch and toward the sound that scares them all half to death. Their sister, crying.

Before he could even leave the room in walked a sodden, puffy cheeked, red eyed girl. Her dark hair was plastered to her forehead and across the sides of her neck.

"What the hell happened?" asked Luke, half hysterical. Turning around on the couch, bug-eyed at sight of his normally well-put together sister a wet shivering, mess?

"Nothing Luke."

"Well that's bullshit." the troubled boy shot back.

"Lukey, just calm it for a second." Jack asked, significantly calmer than both of the other boys.

"No, Jack, Luke's completely correct in his statement!" Quinn, normally level headed, fired off. "She's crying and home way too early aren't you meant to be at Jessie's?"

"I'm not crying Quinn! I'm cold and Jessie is at her dad's!" the young girl warbled. "I'm going bed. Goodnight."

"Like hell you are!" the oldest shouted. "You're going to sit and tell us the truth."

She hated the way Quinn spat the word truth like he knew she'd been lying to them. She hadn't been lying per-se, not to all of them and not in great amounts, just leaving out certain details.

"Y/N, it's okay go upstairs and sleep if you would like to." Jack spoke sternly, more so at Quinn then at then now shivering girl standing meekly at the bottom of the staircase.

"Jack! Are you with us or against us?" Luke stated betrayed, the slight recognition in his features as he slowly realises his older brother's nonchalant-ness.

"I'm on neither side. If she doesn't feel comfortable talking then I don't think we need to pry." Jack continued, trying to diffuse the situation.

"What do you know." Luke's eyes narrowed along with his accusatory remark.

"Nothing more than you do." Jack stated calmly. He wasn’t fond of hiding information from his brothers especially when it involved their sister. He had his reasons though.

-

Jack’s Friday night plans did not consist of comforting his devastated sister.

A quiet shuffle of footsteps along the carpet in the hallway was barely noticeable amidst the cacophony of a summer storm. Light crept slowly into Jack’s room.

“Jacky?” an unreasonably timid voice asked into the darkness.

“mh- ompf.” he had grumbled, back digging into his phone which had been lost when he drifted off. “what’s up kid?”

"can i talk to you please?" she had mumbled through the small gap.

"yeah," he hoisted himself up from the bed. "come in kid, what's going on?"

"ihaveaboyfriend." she spoke at lightning speed. standing by the door apprehensively almost like she was ready to run if she needed.

slowly comprehending jack blinked drearily. "im sorry what?"

taking a deep breath she took a few steps and sat on the end of the bed. "i have a boyfriend," she spoke solemnly.

"shouldn't that be a happy thing?"

"he stood me up three nights in a row."

"ah, a not so happy thing." jack mumbled now realising the gravity of the situation.

"no.”

“what can i do to help?” Jack sighed. at this statement the smaller girl launched into his arms.

“don’t tell Quinn or Luke.” she cried into his chest.

“is there something else you need to tell me?”

“I do, but not now.” the girl crawled up closer to the head board with her brother and tucked herself under he arm.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, we can just sit here.”

“Thanks Jacky.”

-:-

This is probably the most half-assed thing ive ever wrote. im terribly sorry. 👍

if anyone cares i will be putting out the next prompt post later today and something about the au im creating!

find the prompt list for requests here.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

Series Masterlist

Lmk if you wanna be added to a taglist (I’ve never had one so I’m excited to start one)

Semi slow burn

Apologies for the way my writing format style changes through the chapters I will eventually go back and fix it once series is done

Finished.

Chapter 1: Have you got color in your cheeks?

Chapter 2: Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the tide,

Chapter 3: That sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Chapter 4: Are there some aces in your sleeve?

Chapter 5: Have you no idea that you’re in deep?

Chapter 6: I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week.

Chapter 7: How many secrets can you keep?

Chapter 8: Cause there’s this tune I found, that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat.

Chapter 9: Until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee

Chapter 10: Do I wanna know, if this feelin’ flows both ways?

Chapter 11: Sad to see you go, was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay.

Chapter 12: Baby we both know, that the nights were mainly made for sayin’ things that you can’t say tomorrow day.

Chapter 13: Crawling back to you.

Chapter 14: Ever thought of callin’ when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do

Chapter 15 [Final]:Maybe I’m too busy, bein’ yours to fall for somebody new.

[angelkissiies]

hii can you do jock abby x cheerleader reader?

be aggressive

hockey player!abby anderson x cheerleader!reader

cw : modern!au, hockey!au, fluff, confrontation, abby stands up for the reader, cursing, college bitches being bitches.

“Fuck!” You huffed, attempting to find a parking space in the crowded rink parking lot. Game days definitely had begun to test your patience, today more so as you’d already been running late but now with how it was going- you’d be coming in seconds before call time, which gave you a heart attack to even think about. 

By some grace of god (or whoever was listening at that point), you found a spot nestled between a black jeep you recognized as Abby’s and some Nissan that was missing a bumper. Trying to waste no time, you hustled out with your hefty bag thrown over your shoulder and skates dangling from your hand as you held them by the laces. The lot was mainly empty as you sprinted towards the entrance, dodging random gaggles of people who you assumed were waiting for the game to start, but were conveniently in the way. 

You pushed through the main doors glancing around to find your team, before breaking through a group of away players that hoarded the doorway leading into the changing rooms (that weren’t even for them, you’d think they’d move considering the fact but no). “Sorry, excuse me.” You whispered harshly, giving them a half hearted dirty look as they barely moved to allow you through. It was so unnecessary, you almost let it get to you but for the sake of time you dropped it. 

The scent of hairspray hit you first as you rushed into the cheerleaders quarters making you cough before throwing your bag down before making a b-line for the staging door. This led you down the hallway under the rink to the otherside, where your teammates were waiting patiently to begin. You turned the corner before running smack into someone else, their sheer presence sending you stumbling back a bit. Fucking hockey players and their massive bodies. 

“Oh baby, shit, I’m sorry.” You heard your girlfriend curse, a tinge of a laugh in her voice as she reached out to you. Oh, it's your hockey player, nevermind. She was headed to the opposite side of the rink to sit with the other players, as the puck drop didn’t take place until the pregame festivities ended. If you weren’t so stressed, you’d probably have made a joke about breaking the ice but the time didn’t come. 

You shook your head, focused on getting to your spot in time (and not pissing off your coach- again), brushing your hair down with your free hand to tame the strays that had ventured from their previous tight curls.. “I’m late, I'm so late, Abby.” You breathed, motioning towards the door that now seemed much farther away than you thought. “Do I look okay? I gotta go on.”

She nodded quickly, understanding in half a second as the first announcement rang out, muffled from where the two of you stood. She hooked a finger under your chin, pulling your face to look towards her instead of the rink before she gave you a smile. “You look perfect, now get out there.” She hummed, giving you a light shove towards the door, watching as you didn’t hesitate to take off down the remainder of the hall. 

You practically ran to the door- skates clacking wildly as you barely made it before the second announcement came on the intercom. Its main purpose was to draw the ticket holders back into the building, signaling the entertainment was about to begin. You shoved your skates on, finishing tying them just as your coach called for the team to make their way to the door leading onto the ice. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you followed behind your team, skates hitting the ice hard as you followed the outline of the routine you’d been practicing for the past couple weeks. Smile and skate, easy enough. 

Abby had made her way back to the other players, taking a seat as she double checked the laces on her skates. A habit she’d picked up after breaking her ankle a couple seasons ago due to her lace coming loose. She heard the music begin and dragged her attention to the ice, waiting to see you- just like she did every game. She always loved seeing you skate, even just as background but today you were front so she didn’t have to worry about not getting a good view. 

You came into view, your bejeweled uniform catching light from the overhead spotlights, shining gracefully as you did some precise turn that Abby couldn’t even name. She’d always be thankful for the convincing that had taken place to get you both here, as you almost passed up the idea of cheerleading due to annoying stereotypes from American football cheerleaders. She knew you didn’t see her in the haze of light, as the ice made it much too bright to see much outside of the rink, so she usually took the chance to brag to her teammates. Though, as she began to turn to a player she knew quite well, Nora, she caught the tail end of a conversation between two benched cheerleaders. 

“She only got in because her girlfriend is on the team, they totally played favorites.” The one on the left hissed, rolling her eyes at the number you were doing. It was virtually flawless, leading Abby to lean into the conversation more. 

The girl on the right laughed, yawning dramatically. “I think it’s kinda weird, Abby is definitely a good player but like why do they have to be gay? Gives us a bad rep.” She proclaimed, attempting to hush her voice down to a level nobody would hear. 

Abby caught it though, letting out a chuckle of disbelief as she turned around on the bench to face the girls. It seemed like they didn’t realize who they were sitting in front of, or, they knew and just felt brave enough to keep talking shit. “Fucking excuse me?” She stated, tilting her head at the duo. Angry was an understatement, furious would be a better descriptor as she watched the girls freeze. They could talk shit about her, sure, but she drew the line when it came to you or better yet your relationship as queer women. 

“I don’t know what you heard bu-,”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby growled, cutting the girl off. “Keep my girlfriends name and our relationship out of your fucking mouth. I know for a fact you wouldn’t want this getting back to Coach Mckillen, right? Your little homophobic comments about a girl who’s ten times as talented out there than you are wouldn’t go over so smoothly, huh?” 

Knowing fully she planned to report them to the coach, she raised an eyebrow at the duo, watching them scramble to attempt to apologize. Her heart hammered in her chest, never having dealt with such outspoken bigotry- especially from a team composed of mostly queer women.  She didn’t let it show, only turning back to the ice, shaking off the stares she’d gathered from her tiny outburst. 

“Damn, Anderson. That was rough.” Nora laughed, nudging the girl gently, having overheard the entire ordeal. “You’re a mean bitch.” 

Abby bit back a smile at the comment, knowing it was 100% true. “Can’t have anyone out here bad mouthing my girl, that’s all.” She mumbled back, searching the skaters until her eyes landed on you again. From the distance she was at, she could see the healthy blush on your skin from the exhausting choreo she’d watched you practice solo multiple times in the past week, all accompanied by a blissful smile you reserved for crowd work only. 

Nora shook her head, eyes glancing over to see the way Abby watched you as you finished up the last of your performance, turning to skate towards the door that led into the players seating. She had seen firsthand how much Abby cared for you, knowing the girl's plans for your birthday made the moment even more special, seeing as soon there would be a crystalline addition to your relationship. “God help any motherfuckers who try.” She chuckled, standing up to give the cheerleaders room to sit as the groups traded places on the ice. 

You pulled the door open, allowing your mates to go in before entering yourself, coming up to Abby before even considering capping your skates. “Good luck, Abs.” You smiled, face glowing in a sheen of sweat and pure joy as you looked up at her. “You’re gonna do great.” 

Abby smiled down at you, cupping your face in her gloved hands as she pressed a deep kiss to your lips, intentionally drawing it out to annoy the girls who now sat sulking on the second row of benches. Her lips tasted like cinnamon and honey, something you’d grown to love about the woman, her unusual taste in chapstick- and how you never knew what you’d get. “Thank you, pretty girl.” She hummed, pressing another short kiss to your lips before Nora practically dragged her out onto the ice- throwing her helmet to her blindly. 

“Don’t forget!” You called after her, your stupid tradition drawing a smile onto her lips as you recited the beginning of an age old cheer usually reserved for football- but with the force your girl brought to the ice, it felt fitting “Be aggressive.” 

Abby shook her head at you gingerly, mouthing it back before pushing her mouth guard into place and throwing her braid over her shoulder. A slight laugh bubbled in her chest as she got into position, awaiting the face-off. 

B-E aggressive.

[misshoneyimhome]

Omg pleaseeee Don’t Blame Me - “For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind.” With Auston Matthews

Babe, say no more 😉🤍

You know, this idea actually popped into my head a while back for a potential series, but I never got around to writing it down… 🙃 Anyway, I thought it might fit this prompt, even though it doesn't contain all the details 😉

Just to give you a heads up, though, the plot is mainly about cheating, which might not be everyone's cup of tea... but you know, it definitely adds some drama to the story! 🔥

I hope you enjoy it 🤍

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Short summary; When, you, the poised wife of a hockey executive encounter the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs, your attraction sparks a tumultuous affair. However, as you navigate secrecy and guilt, will you choose to embrace your forbidden love or face the consequences?

Warnings & tropes; Secret affair (cheating); briefly enemies to friends; friends to lovers; sexual content - unprotected sex (p in v);

Word count; 4.2K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Don't Blame Me - Your Love Made Me Crazy I Auston Matthews 🖋️⚡️🔥

The cool air of the ice hockey arena surrounded you as you navigated through the busy corridors of the Scotiabank Arena. Dressed in a smartly tailored suit appropriate for your role as the wife of one of the investors for Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment (MLSE), you projected an aura of confidence and sophistication. This was now your domain, where the game meant more than just a sport—it was a business, a passion, and a way of life.

However, amidst the crowd of players and staff, one figure stood out—Auston Matthews, the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs. His presence seemed to demand attention, his demeanour exuding a blend of determination and intensity that mirrored the game he played.

**

However, like many drama stories, your interactions with Auston began on a less than pleasant note.

In his eyes, you were nothing more than a wealthy socialite who had married into money, and he treated you with scepticism. Likewise, you saw him as an arrogant athlete whose focus rarely extended beyond the hockey rink.

And whenever you found yourselves in the same vicinity, the tension was palpable as the two of you exchanged wary glances, each assessing the other with thinly veiled suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" Auston inquired, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity as you crossed paths in the arena hallway.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinising gaze, feeling defensive at the implied judgment in his question. "I'm here to support the team," you replied evenly, masking the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

Auston's lips curled into a smug smirk. "Ah, of course, because I'm sure you're a huge hockey fan," he retorted sarcastically, his words laced with disdain.

You felt a surge of indignation, his words implying more than just a casual insult, igniting a flame of resentment within you. "Surprisingly enough, some of us care about more than just the final score," you retorted sharply, your sarcasm thinly veiled.

Auston's smirk wavered, a flicker of surprise evident in his eyes. "Really?" he responded, his tone almost disbelieving. "And what exactly is it that you care about, apart from mingling with the players?"

You bristled at his dismissive tone, rejecting the notion that you were merely another wealthy socialite seeking amusement. "I actually hold a degree in sports psychology," you countered defiantly, a touch of defiance in your voice. "And I'm here to contribute my expertise to the team, whether you appreciate it or not."

Auston's demeanour softened slightly, a glimmer of genuine interest replacing his earlier scepticism. "Sports psychology, huh?" he pondered, his tone less mocking. "That's at least something."

And surprisingly, you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes at his thinly veiled compliment, opting instead to concentrate on the task at hand. 

It was evident that many of your initial encounters with Auston had been less than ideal, and as he departed, leaving you standing in the hallway, you couldn’t help but scoff at the conceited forward.

Yet, fate had a peculiar way of intertwining lives. As you delved deeper into the nuances of sports psychology, armed with your education and expertise, Auston gradually began to take notice. He witnessed first-hand the subtle yet profound impact your insights had on the team's dynamics, and on their performance both on and off the ice.

And one evening, following an especially demanding practice session, Auston remained behind, his expression a blend of frustration and curiosity. "So, what's the deal with all this psychology stuff anyway?" he inquired, his tone more earnest than accusatory, as he joined you in the locker room while the others continued their workout in the fitness room.

You paused, deliberating your response before replying. "It's about understanding the mind, Auston. How it influences our performance, our reactions, our ability to collaborate as a team."

Auston raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't deny feeling intrigued. "And you actually think all that mumbo jumbo can help us win games?"

You couldn’t help but smile slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes as you regarded the confident player before you. "I believe it can make a difference. Sometimes, it's not just about physical skills—it's about mental resilience, about finding that extra edge when it matters most."

Auston appeared to gradually grasp the significant role you had come to play for the team, offering you a simple nod before departing, leaving you to your work.

And as weeks passed, you found yourself engaging in more frequent and in-depth conversations with the player, as he began seeking your advice not only on the ice but also off it.

"Hey, uh, mind if I pick your brain for a bit?" he'd inquire, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his mouth, meeting you in one of the small offices, unofficially designated for your use.

And amidst the whirlwind of strategy sessions and pre-game routines, an unexpected bond began to form— a bond that was an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent understanding that there was more to the connection between you and Auston than initially met the eye.

**

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, your presence within the Leafs' inner circle became more prominent, and you found yourself deeply involved in the team's daily routines, from pre-game rituals to post-match analyses. And with each interaction, the bond between you and the players, including Auston, strengthened.

Yet, despite your efforts to maintain professionalism, your communication with Auston had a natural way to evolve into something more personal. You weren’t entirely sure why, but the Arizona boy simply had a knack for breaking down your defences and gradually entering your personal space. And you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it.

For weeks, you shared laughter and began to build inside jokes, slowly blurring the lines between professionalism and friendship.

And, when Auston's banter veered into flirtation, it began to test the boundaries you had established. His playful remarks and charming smiles eroded the walls around your heart, tempting you to yield to the allure of something forbidden.

Yet, you remained resolute in your commitment to your marriage, brushing aside the enticing temptation that Auston represented. But beneath the mask of indifference, a storm brewed—a conflict between duty and desire, loyalty and longing.

And Auston, perspective as ever, began to detect the turmoil simmering within you, as he observed with sharp eyes as you navigated the delicate tightrope between professionalism and personal restraint. In those fleeting moments of vulnerability, he glimpsed the fissures in your facade, the unspoken yearning concealed beneath the surface.

Then one evening, the atmosphere at Mitch’s restaurant was vibrant and animated, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the air as the team gathered for their post-game revelry. Auston felt drawn to you once more, his steps leading him to where you sat at the back of the room, encircled by the familiar faces of his teammates.

Taking a seat beside you, Auston's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than usual, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that caught you off guard. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me," he gently whispered in your ear, his voice soft and sincere, so no one would hear.

You tensed at his words, the earnestness in his tone stirring something within you. "I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at," you responded, a touch of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

But Auston's gaze softened, his expression filled with empathy as he reached out to you. "I can see that you’re not happy y/n – that you’re trapped in a marriage that you don’t really want," he said gently. "You deserve to be with someone who wants you, who treats you good."

His words hung in the air, their weight sinking deep into your consciousness. For in Auston's eyes, you glimpsed a reflection of your own longings, mirrored back to you with striking clarity.

“You don’t understand…” you attempted to explain, your voice faltering as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“What don't I understand?” Auston probed, his gaze unwavering as he sought answers in your eyes.

“Marriages aren’t always simple…” you offered weakly, struggling to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

“I know, but there should still be love,” Auston countered, his voice resolute yet gentle.

“I do love him, Auston…” you insisted, the words tasting bitter as they left your lips.

But Auston didn't relent, his gaze piercing as he posed a question that struck at the heart of your conflict. “Are you sure? Then why do you feel attracted to me?”

The question lingered; its weight palpable between you. And for a moment, you grappled with a response, torn between the truth of your desires and the promises you had made.

But with a heavy heart, you instead rose from your seat, making a distance between you and Auston a painful reminder of the boundaries you dared not breach. And as you joined the captain a few paces away, the night progressed, the team's laughter and camaraderie serving as both a comfort and a poignant reminder of the unspoken connection that bound you and Auston.

**

A week later, you found yourself accompanying the team on the road, a suggestion made by the coaching staff who had recognised the importance of your insights, especially in the wake of several consecutive losses. With morale low, your role had become more crucial than ever before, as each player sought to unburden their concerns and frustrations, seeking your guidance to chart a path forward, and you willingly provided a sympathetic ear and professional perspective.

However, one player didn’t approach you until after the official work hours had concluded.

In the dimly lit hotel room, elongated shadows danced across the walls, accompanied only by the soft hum of the air conditioning unit. You reclined on your bed, attempting to ease your mind, yet the players’ worries weighed heavily on your thoughts.

Then a sudden knock shattered the silence, startling you, and with a slightly racing heart, you approached the door, cautiously turning the knob to reveal Auston standing outside, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation.

"Hey," he greeted brusquely, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Can we talk?"

You simply nodded, stepping aside to let him in, as a sense of unease gnawing at you. And as Auston entered the room, his movements were deliberate and tense, his eyes burning with emotion.

"We lost again," he began, his words sharp and succinct, as he stood in the middle of your room. "And I can't shake this feeling that it's all my fault, that I've let the team down."

Your heart went out to him, a wave of empathy washing over you as you gently approached him. "It's not only your fault, Auston," you reassured him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "You're an exceptional player, one of the best I've seen. Sometimes, things simply don't go as planned."

Auston's gaze softened a little, his defences weakening in the face of your understanding. "I know," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "But it still sucks, you know? Knowing that I could've done better, that I disappointed everyone."

You slowly drew a little closer to him, the atmosphere thick with unspoken emotion. "You're not alone in this, Auston," you murmured softly. "We win together, and we lose together. That's the essence of being a team."

And for a moment, a heavy silence enveloped the room, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders. Then, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, Auston leaned in towards you, his lips tenderly brushing against yours in a fleeting caress.

You almost froze, panic coursing through your veins as you swiftly pulled away, your heart racing. "Auston, we can't," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Confusion clouded his features, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Why not?" he demanded, his tone tinged with anger. "Don't you feel it too? The connection between us?"

But a form of shy anger seemed to surge within you, mingling with hurt and betrayal. "Of course, I do," you retorted, your voice slightly escalating. "But that doesn't change the fact that this is wrong…"

Auston's gaze hardened, his resolve unwavering. "I can't do this – you’re fucking with me, and I can’t take it," he declared, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "I thought... I thought there was something real between us, but maybe I was wrong."

The hotel room suddenly felt oppressively small as unspoken words hung heavily in the air. You watched as Auston turned to leave, his footsteps echoing on the plush carpet beneath him.

"Auston, wait!" you called out, desperation seeping into your voice, prompting him to halt, his shoulders stiffening at the sound of your plea. 

"What now?" he muttered; frustration evident in his tone.

"I... please don't leave like this..." you trailed off, the words catching in your throat.

Auston turned back to face you, his expression a blend of confusion and frustration. "y/n.. I don't get you! What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice tinged with exasperation.

And tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. "I don't know... I just... I just don't want-" you started, your voice trembling with emotion.

But before you could complete your sentence, Auston closed the gap between you in a single stride, his lips crashing onto yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. His hands firmly cupping your face to keep you close. The world around you faded as you surrendered to the embrace, the intensity of his touch setting your senses ablaze.

And in that moment, as Auston's lips met yours in a sudden surge of passion, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions engulfed you. Shock, desire, and a hint of desperation swirled together as you melted into his arms, his touch igniting a flame of longing and desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

All the doubts and fears that had haunted you seemed to vanish in the heat of the moment, replaced by an overwhelming rush of raw emotion and unspoken longing.

However, as you succumbed to the overwhelming rush of passion, a voice in the depths of your mind whispered warnings of the inevitable consequences, the fallout of giving in to forbidden love.

So reluctantly, you pulled away, your breaths ragged as you searched Auston's eyes for understanding. "We can't continue like this," you whispered, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

Auston's expression softened, his gaze locking with yours in a silent plea for forgiveness. "I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't seem to help myself, y/n. I want you."

Guilt tugged at your heartstrings, torn between longing for something more and the weight of impending consequences. "I want you too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. "But I can't bear to keep hurting the people I care about."

Auston's shoulders sagged in resignation, the weight of your words settling heavily upon him. "I know," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "But I don't know how to stop."

And in a moment of vulnerability, as you teetered on the edge of something forbidden and perilous, you knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and obstacles.

“Me neither,” you whispered softly, before pressing your lips fervently against his.

It was a heated, passionate exchange where you surrendered to your deepest desires, allowing raw, primal lust to take control. And as your fingers tangled in his hair, Auston's hands found your lower back, using his size to guide you towards the bed.

The urgency of the moment was palpable as you both hastily shed the layers that separated you, consumed by an overwhelming need for each other. Your lips remained locked in a fervent embrace, only parting briefly to discard clothing, and as Auston eagerly explored your mouth with his tongue he positioned himself over you on the bed.

Hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring every inch of soft skin offered, and you couldn't help but notice Auston's member growing firmer with each deep breath and moan exchanged between hungry kisses.

The atmosphere in the small hotel room grew thick with desire as your moans reverberated, the air heavy with anticipation. And as Auston used his hands to pin yours above your head, you felt the tip of his throbbing length teasing your entrance.

“Auston,” you moaned, the urgency in your voice betraying your growing need for more than just his lips. “Please, make love to me.”

And without hesitation, he obliged.

With determined thrusts, he entered you, filling your depths with his length and stimulating your walls with each movement.

Your moans intertwined as he rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, his motions gentle yet impassioned as he explored every inch of your sensitive flesh.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good around me,” he praised you in a husky voice, his breath hot against your neck as he increased his pace.

And you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure of Auston's length inside you. The way his thick cock caressed every part of your sensitive core, the tip of his length hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, leaving you seeing stars.

Then releasing one of your hands, Auston placed his between your heated bodies, finding your clit and circling it with skilled precision. And his actions brought you nothing but closer to the brink of an orgasm. The pleasure of climax built within you, intensified by Auston's increasing thrusts and his expert touch on your sensitive bud.

“Yes, Auston, please, I’m close,” you moaned, your voice harmonising with the rhythm of his thrusts. And with a few more moments, you finally closed your eyes, arched your back, and cried out his name as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Your mind clouded with sensation as Auston maintained his steady rhythm, feeling his own climax approaching as you tightened around him. And with a swift motion, he released his grip, pulling out momentarily, eliciting a soft sigh from you, before forcefully turning you over onto your stomach and re-entering you.

You let out a surprised moan as he filled you once more, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room.

“Oh, yes,” Auston moaned between heavy breaths, his thrusts growing increasingly intense. And as the pressure built within him, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer, releasing a deep grunt as he spilled his seed into your depths. As he emptied himself inside you, the two of you released deep breaths and sighs, slowly emerging from the euphoric haze of climax.

It was a moment suffused with intense passion, yet as Auston left your room, you couldn't shake the feeling of needing a long shower to wash away the sense of dirtiness and filth that lingered. 

**

As days melted into weeks, the tumultuous dance between you and Auston persisted, fuelled by a potent blend of desire, guilt, and longing. Despite the rational voice of conscience clamouring within you, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

Each stolen moment with him ignited a fire within you, a blaze of passion that consumed your every thought and desire. The thrill of the forbidden, the danger of being caught—it only added to the allure, heightening the intensity of your shared experiences.

With every win and every loss for the team, the bond between you and Auston deepened, transcending the confines of reason and morality. It was as if the highs and lows of the game mirrored the highs and lows of your illicit affair, each victory a triumph of desire, each defeat a bitter reminder of the forbidden nature of your love.

Naturally, guilt lingered at the edges of your conscience, a constant reminder of the vows broken, and trust betrayed. Yet, in Auston's arms, all thoughts of remorse faded, replaced by a desperate yearning for solace, for an escape from the wreckage of your marriage.

He had become your drug, and you found yourself hopelessly addicted to him.

Nights at the Scotiabank Arena became your sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of your crumbling life. While your husband immersed himself in his work and business meetings, you sought solace in the arms of another. With each passing night, the boundaries between right and wrong blurred until they were mere echoes of a reality long forgotten. In the darkness of Auston's bedroom, you found moments of pleasure, fleeting ecstasy in a world torn apart by deceit and desire.

But even as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of your forbidden love, a nagging voice whispered in the depths of your soul—a voice warning of the inevitable reckoning, of the price you would pay for your transgressions.

Yet, in the heat of passion, such concerns faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the rush of adrenaline, the overwhelming need for the man who had become your addiction, your obsession, your everything.

**

Yet, on another night, you found yourself back on the side-lines of a match, then lingering in the locker room after all the players had departed. All but one.

The locker room was dimly lit, heavy with the scent of sweat and anticipation as Auston's lips met yours in a fierce, desperate kiss, his hands exploring eagerly over your body as he lifted you up, pressing you against the cold, hard surface of the wall. Caught up in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of desire, your senses consumed by the intoxicating taste of his tongue, the feel of his strong arms enveloping you.

And as the kiss deepened, the world around you faded away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsing between you. His lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, his hands tracing urgent paths over your bottom.

"Shit, I've wanted this all day," Auston murmured against your lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment, every touch igniting a wildfire of longing within you. "Me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

However, unbeknownst to you, your husband had chosen this night to attend a game, seeking to understand why you had been so consumed by your work with the team for months. And as he stood just beyond the threshold, silently witnessing the betrayal unfolding before his eyes, the truth dawned on him.

But lost in the heat of passion, you were oblivious to his presence, drowning your guilt in the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

It was only later, upon returning home, that the full weight of your betrayal crashed down upon you.

The air between you and your husband was thick with tension as you faced each other, his accusing gaze weighing heavily upon you. His words pierced the silence like a knife, each one carrying the sting of betrayal.

"How could you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with pain and disbelief. "How could you betray me like this?"

You tried to speak, to offer some explanation for your actions, but the words failed you, suffocated by guilt and shame.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all along? Sleeping with hockey players behind my back?”

And in that moment, as the reality of your actions sank in, you knew there was no turning back, no undoing the damage. As silence enveloped you both, a chasm of pain and regret widened between you, leaving behind only the shattered remnants of a love that could never be repaired.

**

With the final signature inked on the paper, the reality of your separation loomed ahead, and despite the uncertainty of what lay beyond, you held onto the belief that it was the right decision.

Love for your husband had faded long ago and clinging onto a hollow semblance of a relationship felt unjust to both of you.

So, as each party fulfilled their obligations, you found yourself at a crossroads, uncertain of what the future held. But one thing remained clear: you needed to discover if Auston's feelings mirrored your own.

Then with a heavy heart and nerves frayed, you made your way to the condo where you'd shared your deepest desires, and as Auston greeted you with a concerned gaze, he feared the worst as he noticed your sorrowful expression. Perhaps you were here to end things, to focus on rebuilding your marriage, he thought. 

However, as the words left your lips, a sense of relief washed over him.

"It's over, Auston," you managed a soft smile, despite the tears in your eyes. "My marriage is over."

And in that moment, Auston realised the depth of his feelings for you. The fear that you might not want him, only to be met with the revelation that you had chosen him.

“Finally.” 

With love swelling in his heart, he welcomed you into his home, embracing the freedom to love you openly.

As you found solace in his arms, the weight of the past dissolved, leaving only the promise of a future brimming with love and possibility. Entwined together, you faced the uncertainties ahead, fortified by a love that conquered all obstacles.

[copperbadge]

I was watching hockey earlier today and it got me wondering what sports are played in Askazer-Shivadlakia. Football & surfing’s been mentioned, what else is played in the country? Does it snow enough in the highlands for there to be any winter sports enthusiasts? What’s the state of women’s professional sports? Does the country compete in anything internationally? The Olympics are awful, but does the Ask send a delegation of athletes anyway?

It's not something I've thought a lot about outside of football, I admit, though thinking about the football program has clarified some aspects of it. Mainly I just am not entirely sure how a lot of sports...work, so I kind of stay hands-off.

Askazer-Shivadlakia has never been a super wealthy country. Jason was a bit of a traditionalist and Michaelis was concerned with modernizing but he wasn't an innovator per se, unless pushed; by the end of his reign the country was reaching a point where it had the kind of money to sustain a university or expand its public services fairly radically, but only just. Gregory is a big part of that because he trained as an economist, and while he's only been king for about two years, he's been working in the administration for much longer. He's been able to institute changes that have led to a comfortable surplus in the budget.

So for example, Michaelis wouldn't let the government fund a professional sports team of any kind because the money it would take was already being spent on the youth sports program. He felt that giving kids the chance to play sport was more important than sustaining a team, and said that their athletes were a gift they gave the world. And now that elite players are returning from playing abroad with money and the intention to spend it on supporting a team, his investment is actually, unexpectedly, paying off. Michaelis just wanted the kids of his country to learn self-discipline and good sportsmanship but in doing so he also ensured that if you leave the Ask to seek your fortune as an athlete, once you've got a fortune, you come back home to spend it. And Gregory's work means the government can help.

Football and F1 racing are the two big passion sports the Shivadh follow, though F1 is a fandom, not a pastime. There's decent surfing but that's more a tourist thing. Definitely there are regions that get cold enough for winter sports, but like surfing most of the ski/board sites are tourist-focused, places that ranch dairy cattle in the summer and then host tourists in the winter when the cows are in the warmer lowland pastures. Undoubtedly there are Shivadh snow sport enthusiasts and the country supports them if they compete internationally (both in terms of cheering them on and financially) but there's no program or deep tradition of it. If I ever actually write about those areas extensively that might change, though.

Women's sport has equal support to men's generally, whatever level that might be -- Askazer-Shivadlakia has always been relatively progressive but when Michaelis was elected, Miranda made it her business to push legislation that explicitly protected things like equal funding for women's sport and education and access to birth control and abortion. (She's also the reason weed is legal and Gerald can get Adderall in Europe, where it's banned in a lot of places; there's something to be said for the scion of old conservative nobility who is simply ready to wreck shit.)

There is no golf. Michaelis detests it personally and there's no room for it anyway. If they ever build Askazarama Amusement Park, they might get a mini-golf course.

I don't really know how the Olympics and other international competitions work. If there are talented athletes who want to compete and seem capable of qualifying, there's state funding for them, but there's no formal program where like, the MPs sit down every two years and pick out the top athletes they want to send. Likely most people interested in elite sport competition have to leave the country to train, and represent other countries as a result -- like Paolo in the football novel, who left when he was a young teen to attend a junior academy in France and entered professional play from there.

Shivadh still feel ownership of them, mind you. For example, Felix (the love interest in the football novel) played on the Italian national team and kicked a winning goal in a World Cup for Italy, but Askazer-Shivadlakia consider that cup theirs. A Shivadh did it, ergo it is a Shivadh victory. If an athlete were to say, represent France in an Olympic decathlon and take the gold, they would consider that to be a gold medal for Askazer-Shivadlakia.

The country is very excited about finally having a football team of their own. Shivadh Royal Football Club could lose every game it ever plays and still nobody would let a word be said against them. Fons-Askaz on match day is just a sea of hideous orange Shivadh RFC jerseys that say NARAN JUICE on the front. (Their major sponsor is local juice box and sports drink maker Naran Juice Box Co.)

[starry-hughes]

carried away

quinn hughes x tkachuk sister!reader

warnings: hints at smut but not actual smut

summary: after years of knowing one another, quinn and you finally find love at your brother’s wedding

navigation

Quinn Hughes was a figure in your life for years. You practically grew up with him. He was teammates with your brother, Brady, who was only a year older than you. Both of your brothers were amazing hockey players and Quinn was as well. You didn’t get to attend school with Brady or Quinn, Brady had moved away to go play with the NTDP team. Matthew had done the same.

With two older brothers in the NHL and being the daughter of a former NHL player, it was easy to say that you had enough hockey boys in your life. But every summer, you find yourself surrounded by them. Your summers were spent at the lake house owned by the Hughes family. Your parents always visited after the school year ended, you and your sister in tow. Sometimes, Taryn opted out due to her having her own plans and friends for the summer.

That’s when you met Quinn. Both of you probably wanted to ignore what awkward and cringey look you two sported at the time. Quinn never looked at you as more than Brady’s younger sister.

As time went along and you grew up, Quinn would see photos of you on social media, maybe you’d be at a game once in a while or at dinner afterwards. But every photo he saw of you, you just got more beautiful. And every dinner he sat across the table from you, he couldn’t help but look at you as you laughed at something one of your brothers said or did.

There was one time, last year, December 2022, after Brady and Emma had been engaged, when you had gone to see Matthew play against Vancouver. You didn’t know what came over you, but you had texted Quinn. Quinn was not used to random texts from you. It was mainly birthday texts or random pictures that popped up in a Snapchat memory.

“I’m in Vancouver for the game, dinner tonight?”

Before responding to your text, Quinn thought about it. He was never one to have an attraction to a friend’s sister. But he had to admit that you were beautiful. You were no longer just Brady’s younger sister. You were just you.

He agreed to dinner and after the game, which ended in a loss, he asked if Matthew was joining. “He declined to join,” you informed Quinn. Matthew was busy celebrating the win against the Canucks. Plus, you were practically traveling with the team for the week, you had seen enough of Matthew.

It was an awkward dinner at first and then it came to a normal conversation, chatting about how things had been and how you were doing. The conversation fell to the wedding. “I think Emma is going to ask Taryn and I to be in the wedding at Christmas,” you took a swig of your glass of wine.

“Brady already asked me to be in it,” Quinn almost bragged. “Well at least we can be hopeful to be paired up to walk down the aisle. At least I know you won’t let me trip.”

-

Quinn didn’t really hear from you again until the week of the wedding. Your parents were high strung, trying to make sure Brady had the perfect wedding. Matthew and you had been passing a bottle of vodka between the two of you all night when Quinn arrived with his family.

“Matthew, (Y/N), always lovely to see you!” Ellen and Jim Hughes greeted. “How drunk are you?” Quinn leaned over and asked. “I had to deal with the wedding stress somehow,” you laughed.

“And you aren’t even the bride,” Quinn teased.

“Not this time,” you mumbled.

The next coming days were a blur. At the rehearsal dinner, you were paired with Quinn. “Make sure my sister doesn’t fall Hughes!” Matthew warned, slightly overprotective as Quinn held out his arm for you. You couldn’t help but stifle your laughter as Quinn tensed up for a second but relaxed when you leaned over to whisper to him.

“Don’t pay attention to him, he won’t do anything unless he catches us kissing or something.”

At the rehearsal dinner, Taryn got to make her speech. Brady had asked Matthew and you to do one tomorrow at the actual wedding. Throughout the whole rehearsal dinner, all you could do was stare at Quinn. Maybe it was the wine.

The next day was the actual wedding and you didn’t see much of Quinn. The girls were talking in the bridal party area as everyone got their hair done. “What about you (Y/N)? Anyone special in your life?” Emma’s cousin asked.

Your face felt hot. “No, not really.”

Quinn almost froze when he saw you for the first time right before the wedding started. “You look, uh, beautiful,” he stuttered out. “Thanks Quinn, you clean up nice too.” You adjusted his boutonniere to be straighter.

After the ceremony, you were dragged over to the open bar by Josh Norris. He was talking to you about needing to get breakfast with you tomorrow, saying he missed you. You didn’t allow yourself to get too drunk until after your speech.

After your speech, your face was warm and red. The open bar at the wedding was being used to your advantage. Your wine glass never seemed to become empty. You were tired of talking to your parents or family members. Brady was too enamored by Emma to come to talk to you, you couldn’t blame him though. It was his wedding and your non sister-in-law looked beautiful. You ended up at Table 8, visiting with the boys. “Wanna go on a walk Quinn? I need fresh air.” you asked lowly.

Quinn walked you outside, his arm looped in yours. You had been drinking wine most of the night. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe it was feelings that had never come to light after years of knowing one another.

The two of you paused, looking out at the night sky where the ceremony had been held. Quinn looked over at you as you spoke softly about the day. His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Quinn, you okay?” you whispered. You wanted him to kiss you badly.

“We should go back before I do something Brady kills me for,” Quinn whispered, lips hovering above yours.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” you spoke softly.

-

A knock on Quinn’s door woke him up. Most of the family and wedding party were all staying in the same hotel. Quinn scrambled out of bed, glad that he at least had boxers on. He was barely awake when he cracked open the door.

Matthew stood there. “Sorry to wake you, have you seen (Y/N)? Brady and Emma leave in an hour and my parents want some send off from us.”

“I haven’t seen her since last night, sorry,” Quinn said tiredly. “It’s cool, I’ll check with Josh, I think they said something about getting breakfast together last night.”

Quinn shut the door and took a deep breath. You had woken up at the first knock but didn’t make a movement when your older brother was at the door. As soon as you heard the door lock shut, you threw the blankets off of your head.

You wore Quinn’s dress shirt as a nightgown. Your hair was no longer neat and your bridesmaid dress was draped on the back of the chair in the room. Your shoes were kicked off in minutes last night but you were nervous about getting the dress ruined so Quinn had stopped his actions last night to drape the dress on the back of the chair instead of crumbled on the ground, before returning to you in bed.

“Do you think he knew I was in here?”

[puckarchives]

kilby girl: l. hughes

blurb: in which luke takes meets his kilby girl.  / word count: 2.2k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The first time Luke Hughes saw you, it was— for one, not something either of you expected. In fact, you technically weren’t supposed to be in the bar, and you were way too young to be legally serving drinks behind the counter, and it was a meeting that fate seemed to have overlooked for some reason.

The lights were dim and the music was loud— blaring an old 2000’s rock song that you were humming along too as you served the same rotation of businessmen in fake Rolex watches, frat guys trying to get your number, (or free drinks, but both were no’s,) and now, with the arrival of three of the New Jersey Devils, the occasional hockey player. 

Regardless, though, the minute he saw you— flashing him a quick smile as you went back to putting together the three beers the man next to him had ordered, your shiny gold nose ring catching the dim lighting of the bar, and replying to the drunk ramblings of those around you with witty quips and jokes, he was in instant goner. An. Instant. Goner.

He was new to the team, and he had been filled in— mainly from Jack and Nico— that the bar you worked at was lenient in terms of why they served— as long as the ID looked real, it was real, so you went along to try and garner as many tips from as many customers as you could. And, when he walked towards the counter to try and order said drinks, (two beers for Jack and Nico, and one of the fruity cocktails you kept asking if people wanted just so he could see what type of reaction he could get from you when he ordered it,) he was interrupted from the WASP-y Chad next to him, ordering three drinks as well, and stealing away your attention from his approaching figure. 

Regardless, however, Luke waited his turn— waited for the Chad to finish his drunk flirting, to which you had witty replies for, and tip you way less than you deserved, he approached the bar once again. Trying not to exude the nerves he felt looking at you up close— all pretty skin and pretty lips and pretty hair, he quickly mumbled off his orders. 

“Uh, hi— can I get two beers and one of those Paloma’s, please?” he asked. He said so in his quiet manner— a Luke staple— and seemed to almost fold in on himself. He was large, you would give him that, but you would have thought a man like him, regardless of his height but instead just his general demeanor, would have tried to make himself the subject of everyone’s attention. Instead, he tried to slide past those near him,and get out of the way at whatever moment possible. 

And, at first, because of the overbearing bass that seemed to be hitting every single note of Paramore’s “Misery Business” through the speakers, you didn’t register the words coming out of his mouth. The DJ, and old friend of the bar’s owner, had the music taste of an highschooler in the early 2000s, and made that fact very much clear whenever they decided to show up for their shift— playing everything off of their IPod Touch, and maneuvering from Paramore all the way to Fall Out Boy in a manner of minuted. 

The mouth attached to a boy with a 6’2 frame, however, now stood in front of you— a frame that towered over you and the bar counter itself, and that you could clearly tell was moving, but seemed not to be able to register what was coming out of it. 

“I’m sorry?” you asked, trying to get him to repeat himself. 

Luke, in his quest to try and get his order to you, picked up the volume of voice— and that’s exactly the moment the DJ in the corner decided that he was done playing this rendition of the song, and instead lowered the volume of the music— all the way down. Meaning that the bar, which was packed to the brim with twenty-something wannabes and hasbeens, went completely silent, minus the chatter. 

“SORRY, CAN I GE-” he yelled, before catching himself and stopping as the various heads turned in his direction to see who was yelling. It seemed, for a moment, as if he was going to burst into a puddle of embarrassment. You, however, kept staring at the boy in front of you with pretty eyes whose cheeks— and the tips of his ears— now resembled the red shaker you held in your hands. 

“Woah there, no need to yell,” you joked, trying to diffuse the shame he must have felt, and ensuring you said the words with the lightest tone possible. Luke only shook his head and looked down, still trying to trample down the embarrassment he felt. 

“DJ Davis over there is just known for his impeccable timing, and I’m sorry you were caught in his crossfire,” you joked, “but if you can look at me with those pretty eyes of yours and give me your order, it’s on the house, yeah?” you said, trying to make him feel better about the obvious crappy situation he had found himself in. 

God, you really felt for him. You had never seen him in the bar before, and especially not on a Thursday night, when your shift was jam-packed full of the regular crowds of business suits and polos, so he was definitely a welcome addition, and now that you had gotten a chance to actually take him in— the curls he kept pushing behind his head, the frame that filled out his gray long sleeve well, and the obvious muscle definition you could see from his hands alone, he was cute— and more than that, he was still looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. 

Snapping out of your stupor, though, you asked once more what he’d like, assuring him that “yes, it’s on the house,” and “no, you don’t have to pull out your wallet! I swear!” to fend off the hand that held a credit card in your direction. Once he repeated his order, however— the blood orange Paloma and the two craft beers— you set off to work, grabbing two large glasses from behind you, and then swinging around to grab another smaller glass for the Paloma. 

As you mixed the mezcal-filled cocktail and poured the house drafts, you set them in front of him, and once again had to wave him off as he offered his card to you. “Please, I insist,” he said, still looking at you with his big eyes, and trying hard not to smile in your direction, holding the card out to you.

For Luke, though, he was still mesmerized by you— the drink making had caused a slight rush of red to your cheeks, and despite piecing together that you worked at the bar, it was still such a welcome sight to see you in your element, zooming around the bar, mixing the drinks like you could practically do it in your sleep, and on top of that, still being so nice. 

Catching sight of the name on the card, however, you did a double take at the boy in front of you— a Hughes. You knew only one other person with that last name, (despite living in New Jersey, which was odd,) and as you looked away and searched the rest of the bar to find him, you landed on the hockey player you had come to know— Jack Hughes, and Nico right next to him in the corner booth. He was a bit shorter than the Hughes in front of you, and a lot tanner, but, despite what you told yourself, you much preferred the one in front of you. 

“Are you by any chance related to the creep that’s been staring at you this entire time?” you asked him, still not knowing his name, and once again pushing away the hand with the card in it. “And put that away, I already told you it’s on the house, pretty boy,” you said, and wow, he sure could blush, you thought, as you once again saw the tips of his ears turn a pink shade. You weren’t trying to make him nervous or embarrass him, it was simply your personality shining through. 

“Uh, yeah, that’s my brother,” he laughed, finally putting the card away in his wallet— which was Devils themed, how cute— and scratching the back of his neck. “Do you know him?” he asked you.

You stared at him, (again,) for a few seconds before meeting his eyes once more. “He’s your brother? As in, your flesh and blood?” you asked. He only laughed and shook his head. 

“Well then, please let Jack know that he still owes me a round of darts so I can finish kicking his ass, and tell Nico that I’m no longer allowed to serve him the poutine fries after what happened last time,” you told him. “And while you’re at it, mind giving me your name?” you asked. “I can’t keep calling you pretty boy in my head. People might get the wrong idea, you know?”

Luke scrambled to keep up with your fast-paced speech, and once he heard the anecdotes about Jack and Nico— both of which sounded familiar and were probably true, he only laughed and picked up his drinks. Now that he was smirking down at you— and oh, what a sight that was— he met your eyes once more, saying a quick “Luke. Luke Hughes,” before turning his back to you, looking back one more time, and making his way back to his table, where the other two cheered at the arrival of their beers, and where Luke took a sip of his red-hued drink. 

It wasn’t until you were able to peel your eyes away from their little group that you saw the small napkin laid in front of you— two $50 bills tucked into it, and the number of one “Luke” scribbled out on it. 

It also wasn’t until much later that night— now almost nine hours into your ten hour shift, where you felt someone approach the bar as the final calls rang out once more. When you got the chance to look up from the glass your were furiously wiping, you were met, once again, with the smiling face of Luke Hughes— and now, you could tell the slight blush on his face wasn’t from the alcohol, but instead his reaction to you. 

“Can I help you, man who left his number on a napkin?” you started. “Very suave by the way, but I would recommend you be careful where you leave that. Who knows what kind of psychos could have gotten a hold of it? Then who would be the rookie for the year?” you asked. His only response was a smirk— and god, it was cute— and a shake of his head. 

“Well, we really wouldn’t want that. Especially since it was clearly meant for the beautiful girl behind the bar,” he added. 

You caught on to his flirting, but just to make sure he wasn’t simply egging you on, you decided to mess with him one last time— ”Well, I’ll make sure to give it to Bertha once I’m done. I’m sure she’d appreciate the company of a stud like you,” you told him, trying to remain as serious as possible. 

In the blink of an eye, his smirk seemed to fall, and he stumbled over his words as he tried to piece together that “No, it was meant for you actually.”

Your only response was to giggle, a sound that Luke instantly seemed to attach himself to, as you replied. “I’m just messing with you, I swear.” 

“But, Mr. Luke Hughes, if I am going to use that number, I would like to to mean something,” you said. “Can’t just use it to get free drinks here.” You were hoping that his move actually did mean something — maybe it meant that he’d ask you out, or even just to start a friendship. 

In the two hour difference after your introductions to Luke, you hadn’t only Googled him, but pieced together the previous information you had learned about him from your conversations with jack and Nico, when the pair would come in on slow nights and sit at the bar, chatting with you until they were forced to leave because of early morning skates. 

“Well, I know I’m new to Jersey, but I would love a tour, if you’re free anytime soon?” he asked. Before you could respond though, you heard his name, and the mumblings of what sounded like “Stop flirting with Y/N” from somewhere behind him. You laughed at the voice, and turned back to Luke once more. 

“Well, I work most of the week, but I’ll give you a text, hmm? We can set up a time, and who knows? Maybe I’ll show you everything good that Jersey has to offer” you said.  His only reply was to smile, and before he left, turned back once more— ”That sounds good. Really good, Y/N.”

Funny, you had never even told him your name.

[drewsbuzzcut]

Can you do a blurb of how model reader and kids would celebrate May’s birthday (I know it would be set in the future lol since he is only 27 rn) like how would they wake him up and spend the day with him

Warnings: mentions pregnancy and miscarriage, alcohol consumption, semi smutish, and unedited

“Nols, you have the presents?” You ask your oldest who nods affirmatively and holds up the few bags in his hands.

“I have the breakfast!” Angel shouts and holds up the tray. When he pushes it up, the food starts to slide to the edge, so you quickly steady the tray in his hands.

“I’ll help him, mommy,” Sloane says and grabs one side of the tray.

“Thank you, sweetie. Okay! Let’s go wake up daddy!”

The four of you try to walk up the stairs quietly, but every time AJ’s hold goes crooked, Sloane is quick to correct him.

When you open the door to your bedroom, you see Mat still asleep in your large bed. He’s face down with his arms and hair sprawled out around him. His lips are placed in a pout and his eyebrows are dipped down in a slight furrow. You know he’s in a deep sleep, especially because when he first woke up he was treated with a blowjob that practically sucked his soul out of him.

“Go wake up daddy, Lo,” you grab the tray of food so Sloane can wake up Mat.

She nods her head, but slots her hand in AJ’s so he can go with her. They both jump on the bed and start shaking their father.

“Daddy! Daddy! Wake up it’s your birthday,” both of your littles shout at the same time as if they had planned what to say.

Mat rolls over, his eyes blinking as he tries to wake up and remember where he’s at. You shuffle your giggle when he finally realizes he’s home and his babies are waking him up.

“Oh my goodness. Thank you, AJ. Thank you my little princess,” Mat says, giving them kisses on their foreheads. AJ smiles, more excited to dig into Mat’s breakfast. Sloane melts into her daddy’s arms. The entire week she has talked about nothing but her dad’s birthday coming up. She’s probably more excited than Mat is.

“Happy birthday, dad,” Nolan says and hugs Mat. Hugs from Nolan have been running sparse, so you know this one means the absolute world to Mat.

“Thank you, Nolie bear.”

“Happy birthday, hotshot,” you whisper, your face lowering to his so you can lock your lips with his.

You try not to let the kiss grow into something that can’t be continued, and the kids collectively saying “ew” helps you pull away.

“Mommy kissing me is not disgusting guys. You’ll be doing the same thing one day. Just not you, Sloane,” Mat giggles which makes Sloane giggle.

“Presents daddy! Open them, I’m hungry,” AJ stresses and pulls the bags from Nolan’s hands.

-

Mat’s birthday dinner is at one of his favorite restaurants in the city, the place filled with his family, friends, and old teammates.

The kids have been on their best behavior and are sitting with their daddy, talking in everything around them when someone comes up to Mat to wish him a happy birthday.

He enjoys a few drinks, mainly because the kids will be spending a night with Scarlet, Mat’s little sister, and Anthony. You have something planned and you want it to just be the two of you.

Dinner goes perfectly. Everyone is joking, telling stories about Mat when he was young and still a hockey player, and it’s nothing but smiles and love. Mat feels like the luckiest person to have such an amazing family and some pretty cool friends.

After a very long session of goodbyes to everyone, including your three babies, you and Mat finally get home. Before you can even tell him that you have a present for him, he’s pulling you into a heated make out.

He throws himself on the couch, pulling you on top of him. You fit easily between his legs and you’re quick to wrap your arms around his neck. You softly jut your hips against his, forgetting about everything for a little while. His tongue slips into your mouth, lapping at you like he never has before. A burst of heat rushes through you and you always underestimate of simple it is for him to distract you.

“Wait. Wait. I have something I want to share with you,” you gasp, forcing yourself away from his lips. You close your eyes for a long minute while you try to clear the fog in your mind. It doesn’t help that Mat literally looks like sex on legs at the moment. His lips are slick and swollen, his eyes are darkened, and you can see his chest peeking out from his top.

“Is it your pussy, because I really want a taste.” He sits up, holding your body to his and whispers in your ear. His voice is sweet, almost innocent, but the way his teeth nip at your skin is anything but innocent.

“Have patience Mr. Barzal. Let me go get your birthday present,” you grin and run off to your room.

“Okay Mrs. Barzal, what’s in your hands?” He reaches for your waist, pulling you back on his lap.

“Open it.”

You watch and wait with bated breath, anticipation overtakes you and keeps you nervous.

“No fucking way,” he gasps and quickly finds your eyes.

You can’t help but let a tear or two fall down your cheeks as you nod your head.

“We’re having another baby!” You confirm and throw yourself into his arms.

He holds you so tight and rocks the two of you.

“Oh my god. I can’t- I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so happy. I- thank you, baby. Thank you,” he mutters, voice still shocked but you can clearly hear the love and adoration donning his tone.

“Our last baby,” you say and guide his hand to your still flat tummy.

“Our 5th baby. Jeez, Mrs. Barzal, you’re insatiable,” he jokes. It’s not missed on you that he included your heavenly angel baby, especially when he traces the tattoo on your lower abdomen. The pain is still there when you think about the fact that you could’ve had another one living and breathing at this moment, but it’s more of a dull ache. You and Mat have healed and now you’re welcoming a rainbow baby soon.

“Says you, hotshot. You’d keep me in bed 24/7 if you could,” you retort with a sassy shake of your head.

“Hmm you’re right. I love you and I love all our babies,” he says, voice changing to one that’s sincere and soft.

“I love you more. Happy birthday, baby,” you whisper and drops your lips on his.