#nhl hockey

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗲 ; 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ୨୧

➪ summary: the boys are always going to be there for their little sister, whether that's after a game, when she has a nightmare, at the end of a bad day, or when she's going through a breakup

➪ warnings: reader has a bad day, breakup

➪ word count: 4.0k

➪ file type: new fic (hinted at being in the baby bear universe)

➪ sunny's notes: i have been slaving away so hard to get this fic down and i'm so happy it finally is! i hope you guys enjoy this and feel free to start sending in asks and things about the baby bear universe!

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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⟹ game day ; quinn - 13, reader - 7

Y/n had been bouncing off the walls since her parents told her that they were going to Quinn’s game. This happened every time she went to one of their games, it was her favorite thing to do. Not only did she get to watch her brother play, but she also got to watch her favorite sport, a win-win situation if you asked her. Ellen, however, was regretting her decision to tell her daughter. While she knew she would be hyper, she somehow continued to do it despite knowing it. 

Currently, Jim had taken Quinn to the rink while Ellen tried to rangle her daughter. Jack and Luke weren’t being the least bit helpful as they sat in the latter's room playing a random video game. Y/n was running down the hallway in one of Quinn’s other jerseys he had acquired through the year, not making it easy on her mother before they left themselves.

After 10 minutes, her mom was able to get her to calm down and sit at the kitchen table with a plate of apple slices. Y/n ate them quietly as thoughts raced through her head about the game. She was hoping Quinn’s team would win, she was hoping Quinn would score a goal. But no matter the outcome, she was hoping she’d gate postgame hugs from everyone on the team, it was one of her favorite perks of being a younger sister.

When the time game, she skipped happily out to the car, the rest of her family following behind her with less excited expressions on their faces. Jack sat on the other side of his sister as Luke sat in the back making comments about random things (mostly complaining about having to go to Quinn’s game). 

Y/n sang along to the music that the radio was playing, swinging her feet back and forth. And then she decided to annoy Jack and Luke, “Jack! Jack! Jack!”

“Yes, y/n?” Said boy turned towards her with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you excited for the game?”

“Sure.”

She frowned and thought to herself ‘how could he not be excited for the game?’. She quickly decided to end her pestering, knowing it would only end in her upset or Ellen angry at the three of them. She went back to looking out the window and quietly naming things she saw to pass the time in the car.

Once they got to the arena, she held Ellen’s hand as they walked in. They took their seats amongst the other families that were sitting there, most of the moms making conversation with Ellen. Not long after, Jim made his way up to them, sitting at the end next to Luke. 

Y/n thought that it would be a good time for a pregame nap, so she laid her head on Jack’s shoulder and slept until the horn sounded through the arena. She was briefly startled before she became aware of her surroundings and stood up and started cheering for everything and everyone. 

The other four Hughes’ quickly got used to her cheering and just smiled everytime they heard her voice at this point. The other families around them also adored her and her antics, thinking it was sweet that she always came to cheer on her brother and the rest of the team. 

Throughout the game, y/n screamed loudly when Quinn’s team got a goal or their goalie blocked a shot. She only got scolded twice for booing the opposing team, which was much improvement from the last game she was at. Whenever Quinn was on the ice, she would yell his name in hopes that he would hear her. Most of her efforts were in vain until the third period when she had either finally screamed loud enough that Quinn had been actively paying attention to the noise of the crowd. 

His head quickly snapped to where he thought the noise was coming from, scanning the crowd for his hyper little sister who he found jumping and waving her arms. He was able to wave his arms in her direction which unbeknownst to him caused her to smile and look at their mom excitedly, “Mommy! Mommy! Quinny waved at me!”

Ellen looked up from where she was sitting next to her and smiled, “Did he now? That’s amazing, sweetheart.”

She just nodded happily and sat back down, swinging her feet like earlier. The rest of the game went by quickly, y/n slowly growing tired from the amount of cheering and moving she had done. By the end of the game, she had practically fallen asleep against Jack’s shoulder once more. She walked through the crowd of people clinging on to her dad as they made their way to find Quinn.

They stood at the entrance to the tunnel, y/n watching as other players walked out to their families. Despite her shy nature around most people, she had no issues giving or accepting hugs from each player who walked by her. Most of them patted her head while some also thanked her for her cheering.

After what seemed like ages to the little girl, her eyes finally laid upon her older brother, and wasted no time walking over to him. She crashed into him harshly, wrapping her arms around his waist. Quinn wrapped his arms around her, dropping his stuff in order to, “Hey y/n/n.”

“Hi, Quinny.” She mumbled, keeping her head buried in the jacket he was wearing. 

Quinn gave a look to his parents before picking her up and following the rest of his family to their car. Y/n got herself situated immediately; laying her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck, curling into him, and cringing slightly at the way he smelled, “Quinny?”

“Yes, baby bear?”

“You smell.”

He let out a soft chuckle, “I can put you down if you want?”

“No no no, it’s okay.” 

And before Quinn knew it, he heard her soft snores. He placed her down in the car, making his way to the other side of the car to sit next to her. He made sure everyone kept quiet on the way back, not wanting him or his parents to deal with his cranky little sister at this time. 

Jim went to carry her inside when they got home but Quinn shook his head and carried her inside to her room, tucking her in and placing her stuffed animal bear in her arms. He kissed her head and mumbled a quick ‘Love you’ before walking to his room to change and shower. 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

⟹ nightmare comfort ; jack - 10, reader - 6

It wasn’t often that she would have nightmares, but when they happened, they were awful. It was close to 3 in the morning when she woke up from one, her eyes snapping open in terror and a small whine escaping her. 

She was confused, she didn’t know what to do or what was happening, what was real and what wasn’t. The only thing she did know was that she wanted her older brother. So she climbed out of bed, dragging her teddy bear and small blanket with her as she made her way down the hallway to Jack’s room. 

She knocked hesitantly, knowing he wouldn’t be awake but still wanting to be nice. When she received no answer, she pushed the door open slightly and made her way into the room. She was careful to not get her blanket caught on anything Jack had laying on the ground, picking it up as she walked closer to the bed. 

She whispered his name a few times but she continued to get no response from the boy. She tried again and again but every try went unnoticed. She didn’t really want to disturb his sleep so she quietly went to the other side of his bed, placing both her bear and her blanket on the bed before climbing up and sitting next to him. 

It was only when she finally got comfy that Jack noticed her, turning around in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. He went to shift over but he hit something soft and unfamiliar which caused his eyes to open. His arm had hit her bear and he instantly knew what happened. He murmured her name to see if she was awake and watched as her eyes slowly opened, “Hi Jacky.”

“Hey baby bear, whatcha doin?” He wrapped his comforter around her, allowing her to scoot closer into his arms.

“Nightmare.”

He frowned and finished tucking her into his blanket, “I’m sorry, y/n/n. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You would never bother me with something like this, okay?”

She just nodded, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No thank you.”

“Alright, y/n/n.”

The two were silent and then y/n could feel her stomach grumbling, “Jacky?”

“Yes, baby bear?”

“Me Hungry.”

He chuckled softly before nodding, “I’ll go get some goldfish for you okay? You want some water too?”

“Yes please.”

“I’ll be back then.”

She watched him get up and walk out the door. She listened for his footsteps down the stairs and the slight movements from him downstairs. She looked around his room, eyeing all the posters of hockey players and all his medals and trophies. She smiled happily at them and curled further into the bed. 

Jack came back upstairs a few minutes later with two small bowls of goldfish, and two water bottles full of water. He handed one bowl to her and her favorite colored water bottle to her, helping her sit up on the bed. 

He sat down next to her and started eating his goldfish before she interrupted him, “Jacky?”

“Yes?”

“Can we watch Max and Ruby?”

“Sure, y/n/n.” He reached down and grabbed his iPad from under his bed and turned it on to navigate to Max and Ruby.

Y/n laid against her older brother and continued to eat her goldfish and drink her water as they watched one of her favorite shows. Halfway through the episode, she fell asleep leaving her goldfish finished and her water empty. Jack laughed and closed his iPad and got himself and her comfortable again before falling back asleep as well. 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

⟹ bad day ; luke - 18, reader - 16

Luke had texted her and asked if she was riding home with him after school, but he never got an answer from her. He had texted her during both of their lunch periods, so he knew she was on her phone. It usually wasn’t this late in the day when he would just be finding out how his sister would get home. There were only three options, himself, their mom or dad, or one of her friends. 

By the end of the day, he still hadn’t received an answer from her, so he sat in his car for about 10 minutes after school and that’s when he saw her text that told him he could go. Initially, he hesitated, he knew there was something wrong with her, okay maybe he didn’t know but he could feel that something was wrong. But who was he to not follow what she said? 

An hour after he arrived home he could hear the front door open and a thud before it closed again. He made his way downstairs and saw y/n sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, looking down at her phone. Her head snapped up the footsteps and she placed her phone down on the counter, watching his movements.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, especially for the time of day it was. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and took a seat next to her, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Her response was quick, practiced. 

Luke rolled his eyes, “Uh huh. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Bull shit.”

She hopped off her seat and went to grab the bag of goldfish from the pantry. She came back and stood against the island, continuing to watch as Luke came up with ideas for why she was acting the way she was.

In return, Luke stared at her and her actions, the quick and fake answers, her comfort food, all tell tale signs that was not okay. While his mind couldn’t come up with any good ideas on what might’ve happened to make her upset, he still wanted to make her happy. 

So doing what any of them would do, he dragged her over to the couch, handed her the remote and let her choose what she wanted to watch. At first, he thought she would’ve picked Tangled, one of her all time favorite movies, but was pleasantly surprised when she turned on Beauty and the Beast and settled into the couch.

He made his way back to the doorway, grabbing her backpack to bring it up to her room. When he came back down he threw her blanket at her before walking into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. He knew how to cheer her up, he had grown used to all of the things that made her happy. Hot chocolate, goldfish, her blanket, a Disney movie. It was unusual to see the bear out as she grew older, but it still sat in the middle of her bed. 

He came back with her favorite mug and handed it to her, acknowledging her soft ‘thank you’. He watched the movie with her, drinking his own hot chocolate and sometimes stealing some of her goldfish. That usually ended with a slap to the hand but also with a few crackers, he would always claim that it was worth it. 

When the movie ended, he saw y/n’s side eye in his direction. He raised his eyebrow and looked over at her, “What?”

“Are you going to make me talk about it?”

“No… but I am going to make you tell me if someone did something.”

She shook her head, “Just a crappy day.”

Luke could get on board with that, simply nudging her side and nodding his head in the direction of the remote, “Pick another.”

“You don’t have to stay here, I can just go watch movies in my room.”

“Nonsense, I would never leave you on a bad day to watch movies by yourself. I got all night. Go on.”

She smiled at him before scrolling to find another movie. She looked down at her mug once it started and frowned, “Lukey?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you make me more hot chocolate?”

He stared at her with a blank face before holding his hand out, “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, baby bear.” He teased as he ruffled her hair.

“Dick.”

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

⟹ breakup ; quinn - 23, jack - 21, luke - 19, reader - 17

She hadn’t been expecting it, or maybe she had and just didn’t want to acknowledge reality. She had thought they had been okay, everything was going well and then just out of nowhere, he sent a text. A text that no girl ever wanted to receive, “I want to break up.”

She knew there wasn’t anything she had done to make him feel differently about her, at least that’s what the logical part of her brain said. Yet, she couldn’t help but think deep in her mind that she had done something to change his mind, to make him stop loving her. 

The text was sent at 8:23 p.m., the first thing she saw when she finished her homework. It happened quickly, probably, maybe, she didn’t know if she was totally honest. She remembered her phone dropping, the instant tears that came to her eyes, the whirlwind of emotions she felt. She didn’t remember curling up in her bed, holding her bear to her chest, head digging into the pillow. 

That was how Luke found her. At first he had thought she had watched a sad movie or a sad tiktok but then he saw the bear. The bear she only brought out when she was extremely upset or one of the boys placed it in her arms. He knew something had to be seriously wrong for it to make an appearance. 

He slowly padded over to the side of her bed, squatting down so his face was mostly level with her own, “Y/n/n?”

Her eyes fluttered open at Luke’s soft voice, tears immediately visible in them. Luke winced and frowned at the sight, cringing at the whimper she let out, “Luke.”

He wasted no time standing up and sitting next to her on the bed. At first she didn’t make any signs of moving closer to him, nervous that he would tease her for crying. But then he lifted his one arm and placed it amongst her pillows and she scooted towards him, crying into his sweatshirt. 

For a few moments, he didn’t do anything, just sat there silently as she cried. Then he moved his arm to wrap around her and pulled her closer into his side, kissing the top of her head. Y/n still kept her bear close to her chest even as she laid in her brother’s grip, not wanting to let go even for a minute. Luke thought about calling Jack and Quinn, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if she wanted them to see her like this. 

So, he waited a while, mostly until she calmed down. And that’s when he asked, “Do you want me to call Quinn and Jack?”

Confusion flashed across his face when she nodded her head, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He nodded with a murmur, “I’ll be right back okay?”

He gave her another kiss on her head before untangling himself and walking out of the room. Y/n could only hear his muffled voice from where she laid, millions of thoughts running through her head. Most of them were about Daniel and why he broke up with her, but some about the conversation that was happening outside her door creeped in.

Meanwhile, Luke was struggling to get a hold of either of his two older brothers. Both of them had been out with some of their friends, Luke wanting to stay home and be lazy all day. He had originally just gone into Y/n’s room to see if she wanted to order some food with him and that’s when this happened.

Finally, Luke had gotten a hold of Quinn who answered with a heavy sigh, “Yes Luke?”

He only rolled his eyes, “We have a problem.”

“We as in the three of us or we as in you and y/n/n?”

“Technically both?”

That’s what gained Quinn’s alertness. He instantly shushed the group of guys he was around, sticking one finger in his ear to block out the rest of the noise that came from the bar. Most of them looked at him quizzically while the rest  looked at him with annoyance, “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I walked into y/n’s room and she was just crying, wouldn’t say anything. When she finally calmed down I asked her if she wanted me to call you guys and she said yes, so I called.”

“And when you mean crying…?”

“The bear was in fact there.”

“Alright we’re on our way.”

“Get food and ice cream. She hasn’t been out of her room since she’s been home.”

“Okay.” And then the line went quiet.

At the bar, Quinn grabbed his jacket and eyed Jack, “Let’s go.”

“What? What’s going on?” Despite his questions, Jack followed him, grabbing his own jacket. 

“Y/n.”

And that was all Jack needed to hear to understand the urgency of the situation. 

ﾟ +*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke made his way back to the bedroom, shoving his phone back in his pocket, “They’re on their way, baby bear.”

She nodded, sitting up in the slightest. Her back now rested against the headboard, her knees curled up into her chest. He sat next to her and she laid her head on his shoulder, playing with the fur from her stuffed animal. 

It was quiet for a while, neither of them knowing what to say. Yet, the curiosity ate away at Luke’s brain so it wasn’t too long before he asked, “You wanna tell me what happened?”

She briefly looked up, not at him just forward, before shaking her head and looking back down. He frowned again, “Are you going to wait until they get home?”

This time she nodded and he let out a soft sigh of relief. He wasn’t oblivious to her tendencies to keep her emotions bottled up, most of the time they had to be relentlessly annoying to even get her to tell them how she was feeling. So the fact that she said she would tell them lifted a weight off his shoulders. 

The minutes from when Luke’s last words were spoken to when Jack and Quinn arrived home passed both silently and quickly. The two walked into her room, bags of food from her favorite restaurant in hand and another bag of random treats and desserts in the other. They smiled at her and took their seats on her bed, Quinn on her right side and Jack in front of Luke on her left. 

She eyed them as they started to take things out left and right, handing everyone their own food. Quinn took the initiative to turn the TV on and open the Disney+ App, finding Tangled and hitting play. Her eyes watered at their actions, unable to keep the tears in ultimately.

The three froze and exchanged glances with one another before looking at her. Their faces softened and Quinn pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears to soak the fabric on his shoulder. Jack paused the movie and Luke finished handing out the food. 

Once she calmed down again, she murmured a ‘thank you’ before reaching for her food.

“Ah ah ah, food after you tell us what’s wrong,” Jack spoke, tugging her food out of her hands. 

She pouted at him and played with her fingers before speaking, “He broke up with me.”

“Daniel?” “He what?” “Fucking hell.”

Their reactions startled her, but she still reached for her food, “I did my part.”

Jack only nodded and gave it over to her, all of them watching as she opened it slowly and started eating. The boys flanked at each other again but then decided to finally leave it alone and settle back into her bed, watching the movie play.

As the movie went on, everyone finished their food, Jack and Luke both getting up to go throw the trash away. Quinn and y/n continued to watch as Flynn died and Mother Gothel fell out of the window. As Flynn and Rapunzle exchanged what they both thought would be their last word’s to each other, y/n leaned further into Quinn and looked up at him, “Quinny?”

He looked down at her with a soft smile, “Yeah, baby bear?”

“Will I ever find my Flynn Rider?”

It seemed like a stupid question to ask, sure. But she was 17 and going through her first heartbreak (real heartbreak). All she wanted as her own prince to make her feel wanted and loved, was that too much to ask anymore?

Quinn felt his heart break at the question. He knew it was inevitable that she would experience something like this, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to protect her from it happening. He just held her tighter and kissed her head, “You will, y/n/n. You will.”

𝗛𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

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© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[nottodayjustin]

September 22nd 2024 best hockey tweet of the day

[thymbsup]

He makes the best faces

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 2 | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. 3.6k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I could barely contain my excitement as I sat in the bustling airport with my classmates, waiting for our flight to New York. My leg bounced with nervous energy, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I had been looking forward to this day for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the anticipation was almost too much to handle.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” my friend Lauren teased, nudging me with her elbow as she sipped on her overpriced airport coffee.

“I can’t help it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going to New York!”

“Yeah, but you look like you’ve just won the lottery or something,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so giddy?”

I bit my lip, trying to tone down my excitement. I couldn’t exactly tell her about Manhattan, about how I was going to surprise him by being in his city. The thought alone made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

“I guess I’m just excited to finally see the city,” I said, half-truthfully. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Well, it’s going to be amazing,” Lauren agreed, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t wait to explore. Have you got any plans for when we’re not at the conference?”

“Not really,” I lied. “I figured I’d just wander around, see where the city takes me.”

In reality, I had been meticulously planning out my free time, making sure I’d have the chance to visit some of the places Manhattan had mentioned in our conversations. Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, and maybe even that bagel place he’d raved about. But I wasn’t going to tell Lauren all of that. Not yet.

As we waited to board, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan. I glanced at the screen, my heart doing a little flip as I saw his name pop up.

Wednesday, May 29, 2024Today, 10:17 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today, San Diego?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed out my response, the excitement of the trip making it hard to keep the secret.

ME: Just hanging out, nothing too crazy. How about you? :) MANHATTAN: Same here, just getting ready for another big game. A little exciting. What’s got you in such a good mood today?

He knew me too well. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to drop a hint or keep the surprise going.

ME: Let’s just say I’ve got something fun planned. I’ll tell you all about it later. MANHATTAN: You’re killing me with suspense here, San Diego. Now I’m curious.

I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I imagined his reaction when I finally told him—or when I maybe even bumped into him in his own city.

ME: Patience, Manhattan. You’ll find out soon enough. MANHATTAN: I guess I don’t have a choice. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.

I tucked my phone back into my bag, my smile refusing to fade. This trip was going to be unforgettable, and not just because of the conference. I could hardly wait to step off the plane and onto New York soil, knowing that Manhattan had no idea what was coming.

“Alright, they’re boarding our flight,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You ready?”

“More than ready,” I said, grabbing my own bag and following her to the gate, my heart racing with anticipation. New York, here I come.

As the plane descended into New York, my excitement was at an all-time high. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, but more than that, I couldn’t wait to surprise Manhattan. The plan was simple: I’d head to his college, catch one of his hockey games, and finally meet him in person. I could already picture the look on his face when he saw me there.

After dropping my bags off at the hotel and freshening up, I decided to send him a quick message. I needed to get some information without giving away my plan.

ME: Hey, how’s hockey going? My friend is heading to New York soon, and I was thinking maybe she could grab me a hoodie from your college. ME: Which college do you go to again?

I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I watched the typing bubble appear. I wondered if he’d catch on to what I was trying to do, but he probably thought I was just being curious.

The typing bubble kept appearing and disappearing, and I felt my anticipation build. What was taking him so long?

Finally, his message came through.

MANHATTAN: Long Island University. Let’s go Sharks! 🦈

I smiled to myself, mentally filing away the information. LIU. Perfect. Now I just needed to find out when their next game was and how to get there. The idea of seeing him in action, playing the sport he was so passionate about, made me even more excited.

ME: Cool! I’ll definitely ask her to grab me one. LIU sounds like a great school. MANHATTAN: It is. I’m really enjoying it here. Hockey’s been great too.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling a rush of excitement. Everything was falling into place. In just a few days, I’d be at LIU, watching him play, and he had no idea what was coming.

ME: Glad to hear it! Maybe one day I’ll get to see you play in person. MANHATTAN: I’d like that. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for the hoodie 😉

I laughed, feeling a surge of anticipation. He had no idea that “one day” was much sooner than he thought.

ME: I guess I will. But who knows what the future holds? MANHATTAN: True. The future’s full of surprises.

I couldn’t agree more. Little did he know, the biggest surprise was about to come his way. I tucked my phone away, feeling more determined than ever. Tomorrow, I’d make my way to LIU, ready to see Manhattan in his element. This trip was turning out to be more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The next morning, I woke up early, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day I’d finally see Manhattan play hockey. After a quick breakfast with my classmates, I made up an excuse about needing some time alone to explore the city. They didn’t ask too many questions, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that I was sneaking off to surprise a guy I’d never actually met in person.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I set off toward Long Island University. The city buzzed with energy as I navigated the subway system, and I could hardly keep still as I imagined what the game would be like. What would he look like on the ice? Would I recognize him immediately?

When I finally arrived at LIU’s campus, I felt a rush of excitement. The rink was larger than I expected, and the atmosphere was alive with the buzz of college sports. I spotted a few people in Sharks gear and made a mental note to grab a hoodie later—something to remember this day by.

Just as I was about to head inside, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan.

Thursday, May 30, 2024Today, 9:00 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today?

I hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping the surprise and telling him something closer to the truth.

ME: Just wandering around, checking out some new places. You? MANHATTAN: Nothing too exciting, just got some practice. Gotta stay sharp for the game tomorrow.

My heart skipped a beat. If he was heading to practice, that meant he’d be at the rink soon. I grinned, feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place.

ME: Busy day for you then. Good luck with practice!

I tucked my phone away and stepped into the rink. The cool air hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling city outside. I found a seat near the middle, close enough to see the action but far enough to stay somewhat hidden. The rink was buzzing with the energy of casual practice, but I didn’t see anyone who looked like Manhattan.

Confused, I glanced at my phone again, but decided to focus on enjoying the moment. Maybe everything would still work out.

As the few players on the ice began to pack up, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I made my way down to the edge of the rink where the three boys were gathering their gear. They looked friendly enough, chatting and laughing as they peeled off their jerseys.

"Hi there," I greeted them tentatively, hoping not to intrude.

"Hey," one of them replied with a smile, while another gave a nod in acknowledgment.

Feeling a bit bolder, I held up the picture of Manhattan that I had saved on my phone. "Do you guys happen to know him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

The boy closest to me glanced at the picture and furrowed his brow. "Is this a test, or a bad joke?" he replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I blinked, taken aback by his reaction. "No, not at all," I said quickly. "He's a hockey player, right?"

The boy let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with his teammate who rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a hockey player," he replied, his tone slightly mocking. With that, he skated off towards the locker rooms, his friend following close behind.

Left standing there, I turned to the last boy who was gathering his equipment. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.

He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, maybe try MSG or something," he suggested, referring to Madison Square Garden. With that, he picked up his stick and followed his teammates off the ice, leaving me feeling confused and unsure of what to do next.

I stared after them for a moment, my heart sinking. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

Feeling disheartened and unsure of what had just transpired at the rink, I made my way back to the hotel. My mind was still spinning with confusion and disappointment over not finding any trace of Manhattan. As I walked through the lobby, Lauren immediately noticed something was off.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

I forced a smile, trying to brush off my disappointment. "Nothing, just tired," I replied vaguely.

To cheer me up, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey, you like hockey, right? There's some playoffs happening tomorrow, and apparently they're really shitty seats, but Professor Tenner says we can all go since it's included in the expo."

Her attempt to lift my spirits caught my attention. Playoffs sounded exciting, and even though I was still reeling from the day's events, the prospect of attending a hockey game in New York City was enticing, even if it wasn't one of Manhattan's games like I'd hoped.

"Really?" I perked up, feeling a glimmer of excitement return. "That sounds like fun. I could use a distraction."

She nodded eagerly. "Exactly! We'll forget about everything and just enjoy the game."

I nodded in agreement, grateful for her effort to turn things around. Perhaps the disappointment of today would fade with the thrill of tomorrow's game.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we rode the subway towards Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the upcoming hockey playoffs managed to distract me momentarily from the strange encounter at LIU's rink earlier. The subway car was filled with fans dressed in jerseys, hats, and scarves, all buzzing with anticipation for the game. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw the neon signs outside the arena proclaiming, "NEW YORK RANGERS VS FLORIDA PANTHERS, 2-2 TIED SERIES."

Glancing at my phone, I noticed several unread messages from Manhattan. They started off flirty, but the last few were increasingly concerned:

Friday, May 31, 2024Today, 7:00 PM MANHATTAN: Made my sister take this so you can see how hard it is being so tall and attractive

MANHATTAN: Hey, haven't heard from you all day. Everything okay? ❤️ MANHATTAN: Did something happen? You're acting weird. MANHATTAN: Seriously, just let me know you're okay. MANHATTAN: San Diego??? MANHATTAN: I'm starting to get worried now. Please, just tell me what's going on.

Each message tugged at my conscience, but right now, with the game looming ahead and the vibrant energy of the city around me, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Turning off my phone, I focused on the lively scene outside as we emerged from the subway. Madison Square Garden towered above us, its exterior adorned with banners and flags of the Rangers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of excited fans and vendors selling snacks and memorabilia.

My friend nudged me excitedly. "This is going to be awesome," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I nodded, a surge of anticipation building within me. Stepping into the bustling concourse of the arena, I marveled at the sea of blue and red jerseys, each person radiating their team pride. It was infectious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of being part of such a passionate crowd.

Finding our seats, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not responding to Manhattan's messages. I promised myself I would explain everything later, after the game. Right now, I needed to immerse myself in the thrill of playoff hockey and enjoy this unforgettable experience in the heart of New York City.

Just before the game began, one last text came in from Manhattan. The notification popped up on my screen, and I couldn't ignore it any longer:

MANHATTAN: Starting to think I messed things up. Please talk to me. I have to go, but PLEASE tell me you're okay.

The urgency in his message was palpable, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I owed him an explanation, but right now, surrounded by the anticipation of the playoff game at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't find the words to reply.

My friend noticed my troubled expression and gently asked, "Everything okay?"

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the excitement of the moment and the guilt of leaving Manhattan hanging. "Yeah, just some stuff going on," I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.

She nodded understandingly, sensing my reluctance to talk about it. "Well, let's focus on the game. It's going to be amazing!"

I managed a small smile, grateful for her distraction. As the national anthem played and the teams took the ice, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy of the arena was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement despite my lingering worries about Manhattan.

As the players came out and the game began, the atmosphere inside Madison Square Garden was electric. The puck dropped, and the game progressed smoothly until midway through the second period. Number 73, newly on the ice, was skating hard when suddenly, number 91 from the opposing team delivered a hard hit. The crowd erupted into shouts and boos as the large screen replayed the hit, the referees finally calling a penalty.

In the midst of the chaos, the camera panned back to the live action, focusing on New York Rangers' number 73 as he removed his helmet. And there he was—Manhattan.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him on the screen, his presence confirming that the mystery friend who had been texting me was indeed using a picture of Matt Rempe. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind. Had I been lied to this whole time? Was this some elaborate prank or misunderstanding?

As Manhattan skated off the ice, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of betrayal. The crowd's cheers and the game's intensity became distant background noise as I tried to process everything. The realization that Manhattan was real and here, playing hockey in front of me, collided with the unsettling feeling that someone had deceived me.

I glanced at my friend beside me, who was still cheering enthusiastically for the Rangers. She turned to me with a bright smile. "This is amazing, right?"

"Yeah," I managed to reply, forcing a smile while my mind raced with unanswered questions.

As the game continued, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan on the ice. Despite the whirlwind of emotions, one thing was clear—there was much more to this story than I had ever imagined.

On the way out of the game, the crowd slowly dispersing around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and confusion. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a moment before typing out a message to Manhattan.

ME: So, was this all just a joke? Using someone else's photos to pretend to be someone you're not?

The message hung in the air, my thumb hovering over the send button. I felt a mix of anger and hurt, wanting desperately for there to be some explanation that would make sense of everything. But as the seconds ticked by, doubts crept in. What if I had been naive to believe in this connection all along?

My friend glanced over at me, sensing my unease. "You okay?" she asked gently.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just… something came up," I replied vaguely, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

Finally, I pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss. As we made our way through the bustling streets of New York City, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that the person I thought I knew as Manhattan might not be who he claimed to be after all.

The crowd outside Madison Square Garden buzzed with post-game energy, but my focus was solely on my phone, waiting for Manhattan’s reply. The seconds dragged on before my screen lit up with his response.

MANHATTAN: What? A joke? What are you talking about?

I clenched my jaw, frustrated by his confusion. How could he not understand?

ME: I saw you. Or, I guess I saw the real you. You’ve been sending me photos of a hockey player this whole time, pretending it was you. Matt Rempe. Ring a bell?

I hit send, my emotions swirling between hurt and anger. Was this his way of getting a laugh? Why string me along like this?

His response came quickly this time.

MANHATTAN: Wait, what? I didn’t lie to you, I swear. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

I scoffed at my phone. Was he really going to keep this act up?

ME: You sent me his photo. Matt Rempe. Number 73 for the Rangers. I saw him on the ice tonight.

My hands were shaking slightly as I typed, overwhelmed by everything. How could he keep denying it when I’d literally just seen Matt?

There was a longer pause before his next message.

MANHATTAN: I didn’t lie. I never pretended to be someone else. I’m really confused right now. How did you… how did you see me?

My breath caught. Why did he sound so genuine? My mind scrambled to piece it together. How could he not know that I’d seen the very guy whose pictures he’d been sending? It didn’t make sense.

I typed again, my heart pounding.

ME: I saw him play. I was at the Rangers game tonight. You’ve been using his pictures this whole time, and now I feel like an idiot for believing you.

There was another long pause, and I could imagine him, wherever he was, sitting there trying to figure out what had just happened.

The longer I waited, the more the knot in my stomach tightened. Finally, my phone buzzed again with his reply.

MANHATTAN: I’m so confused. How did you end up at a Rangers game? I never sent you anyone else’s photos. I swear. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. ME: I came here for a school trip. I wanted to surprise you, so I went to what you told me was your University yesterday to see you play hockey. I thought it’d be this cute moment, but you weren’t there. Some guys at the rink acted weird when I asked about you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Then today, at the game, I saw Matt Rempe... The guy in the photos you’ve been sending me. MANHATTAN: Wait. You’re in New York? You went looking for me??? MANHATTAN: Okay, this is all a big misunderstanding, and I need you to believe me. I’m not lying. I am Matt Rempe. ME: No, you're not. Stop it. If this is your way of messing with me, just admit it. Why would you pretend to be someone like him? You think I wouldn’t find out? MANHATTAN: I’m not pretending. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I also didn’t want to throw all that stuff at you so fast. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been hiding things, but I wasn’t trying to trick you. I swear. ME: So what, you’re just Matt Rempe all of a sudden? I’m supposed to believe that you’re the guy I watched get slammed on the ice tonight? MANHATTAN: Yes. I wanted to tell you but we became friends and never stopped the little nickname thing, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.

I stared at the message, my head spinning. How could this be true? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

[kawhh]

Man I give up

[maraschinodevil]

Oh hi there pretty boy

[arty-anon]

I SHOULDVE DONE THIS WHEN THE GAME STARTED BUT LIVE UPDATING THIS ARTY MY BELOVED YOU MAKE EVERYTHING LOOK SO EFFORTLESS

[nottodayjustin]

September 23rd 2024 best hockey tweet(s) of the day

[thephillykat]

Flyers Training Camp 9.21.24

📍Voorhees, NJ

[dry-ass-burger-buns]

Every October:

[nando161mando]

Pro-homosexual forces stay winning

[sweetteainthesummerx]

✰ sweet nothing✰

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x writer! reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

song: sweet nothing by taylor swift

summary: 5 times Quinn knew you were the one, and the one time he let you know...

word count: 2.2 k

notes: quinn my sweet boy!! also sweet nothing by taylor swift because her love songs are so superior

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

outside, they're push and shoving, you're in the kitchen humming

quinn pushes open the door to his apartment, exhausted. His face hurts from smiling at fans, and the triple header really, really took it out of him.

he loves his captaincy, really. he loves his boys, the leading, the responsibility. it's hard, though, to live up to all of the jostle and hassle the spotlight brings.

needless to say, the push and shove of stress has taken its toll on him, and all he needs is a hot shower and preferably 8 or more hours of sleep.

through the walkway, he hears a familiar voice, the telltale clatter of pans, a taylor swift song and the aroma of garlic and tomatoes.

you must've used his spare key he gave you.

he smiles despite himself, something warm tugging deep in his stomach.

he calls your name and immediately flushes with how breathy and needy he sounds. the last thing he wants is to scare you away.

"q!" you pop up from behind the counter, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts that drapes long over your slender shoulders and a pair of ratty sweatpants. your hair is pulled back from your make-up void face.

you've never looked more beautiful.

you make your way over while he admires you, and lock your arms around his waist, smiling up at him.

"missed you," you kiss his cheek, and he flushes again. god, why was he like this still?

the two of you have been dating for over than a month now, but he's still so easily flustered by you. maybe it's because you work with words for a living, but you're the sweetest thing he's ever seen (and tasted).

you think it's cute, and you tell him more often than not, reducing him to a puddle of a blushing mess.

he bundles you properly in his arms, kissing you properly.

you're so soft and warm under his fingers, your mouth hot and pliable.

you indulge him for a moment, savouring the time with each other. his hands wander down to your hips, gripping hard like he's afraid you'll be blown away by the wind.

a timer dings, and you pull back. he chases your lips, letting out a whine when you giggle and push gently at his broad chest.

"quinny, stop! i made you lasagna, and I don't want it to burn."

"mm, we'll order take out," he mutters into your neck, breathing in your familiar perfume.

you let out a sound of protest, finally breaking free of his hold. he follows you like a lost puppy as you set the table, plating him an extra large piece.

as he eats, you watches your kind eyes and easy smile with adoration.

the realization jars him, but settles firm in his bones: he wants to come home to you everyday.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i wrote a poem, you say, "what a mind", this happens all the time

it's the release of your latest book, and quinn watches as you engage with your fans. the biggest indigo in vancouver invited you to come do a meet and greet along with a signing.

you had spent the morning with quinn, his hands stroking through your hair to calm you down. although your other books had success, this one was your proudest piece of work yet.

quinn had been the first person to read it. he was impressed; he knew you were smart and you had a way with words that astounded him, but the whole book was like poetry.

the words flowed easy from you, as easy as breathing.

now, watching you all flushed and a little embarrassed by the attention from the mass of people who showed up, he all but glows with pride.

a young girl, maybe in her early teens, comes up to you with a wide smile and bright, glassy eyes. he can't hear well, because he's tucked near the back of the room to avoid the crowd, but she says something and your face falls.

he's ready to sprint through the crowd to get to you, but you hug the younger girl. she's crying, he realizes. you squeeze her tight, sign her book and send her off with what looks like encouraging words and another hug.

afterwards, while he drives with one hand and the other on your thigh, he asks what happened.

"she told me she's never felt more seen by anyone before. that my book told her it's okay to not know where to be in the world." your eyes feel wet, and he smiles.

god, you're brilliant.

he raises your hand to his mouth and kisses your pulse.

"what a mind," he murmurs, and you laugh softly.

"you tell me that all the time."

"because I mean it, babe."

now he understands when those cheesy movies say "I want you body, mind and soul".

you are undeniably beautiful, gorgeous even. kindness seeps from your very being, and you're mind is bright and soft.

he wants all of you, forever.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

the voices that implore, "you should be doing more"

ellen sees some of the articles and criticisms of her eldest on the internet. quinn has always been the quietest, the most calm and so stoic. but her sweet boy, who worked too hard and did too much was always being told to do more.

so when she called him and he picked up the facetime groggy and hair still damp, she was surprised.

"hey, mom." he answered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"hi, quinn. sorry, sweetie. i didn't expect you to be asleep. i thought i would check up on you."

"all good." he yawns, and he makes small talk.

she wonders if he's seen all of the speculations about his captaincy on the news and headlines.

he tells her he has, because she asks him straight up. he appreciates the straightforwardness, and he has since he was young.

he tells her that you were there.

"she ran me a bath, with those weird salt things that women love so much-"

"hey! they're very nice." she interrupts, laughing at his antics.

"and she made soup. we ate already and I took a nap. she's out getting groceries, but i'll tell her you said hi, mom."

ellen nods, something tangible and comforting in the air around her. her son is in good hands.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

to you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

you find him in the empty change room. he's sitting on a bench, wet hair messy, head hung. you expected this; your boyfriend was nothing if not responsible and too hard on himself.

after another loss, his grief and frustration was normal.

you kneel before him, taking his face, hot from the shower in your cool hands. his pretty eyes are rimmed red, and he leans into your touch.

"hey, pretty boy. you did good out there, captain."

he shakes his head, fingers trembling as he pulls you closer so he can push his face into your hair, inhaling your smell.

"i failed them. i'm a shit captain, and i can't seem to break this cycle we're in-"

"you are not a shit captain." you say those words firmly, and it almost surprises quinn. normally you were soft-spoken and slow, but you tell him this with urgency.

"i should be taking care of everyone, and everything-"

"but who takes care of you?"

your words break a dam in him, and he buries his head in your shoulder. the position is uncomfortable, but you don't shift or mention his shaking shoulders.

"you are a good leader. a good leader is one who stands with his team, even during the tough times. the boys adore you, and you will break this rut. but it takes time, and work, my love. no one works harder than you."

he sniffs, a hovering breath touches your neck.

"you are so strong, my sweet boy." you cradle his neck, pressing kisses to the side of his face. this sets off another wave of emotions, and he easily tugs you up into his lap.

his wet hair drips onto your (his) jersey, but you don't mind.

"and if you need to be strong for them, you can be soft with me. i'm here for a reason. another set of shoulders to bear your burdens."

"i love you, y'know that?" his voice is scratchy, vulnerable and thick with emotion. although the two of you have exchanged those three words countless of times before this, it feels like more this time.

"i know, quinnie. i love you too."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

jack hauls his older brother onto the curb, setting him there, praying that he doesn't fall flat into the road. luke runs out with quinn's jacket, draping it over his shoulders.

it isn't often that quinn gets drunk, especially this drunk. but the boys night was a chance for all of them to let loose during the off season.

the small dive bar near the lake house was the perfect place to get away.

"dude, he is hammered." luke huffs, tugging at the sleeves of his own hoodie, the chill of the night starting to surround the air.

quinn says something under his breath as he sways, and jack sets him upright again.

"bro, what did you say?"

quinn repeats your name, louder this time, with the request to see you immediately.

the way he says your name, with so much love and awe makes jack almost wish he was in a relationship.

"sure, man. i'll call her to pick you up."

you arrive a mere 10 minutes later, hair wet, wearing one of quinn's canucks sweatshirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

"hey guys," you greet the other hughes boys. Luke gives you a side hug, and you pat jack's arm in thanks as you move to help her boyfriend up.

"babe!" Quinn only realizes then that you're here. jack has to laugh, seeing his brother so far gone because of the 7 tequila shots they took.

"jeez, guys. how much did you drink?" you ask, laughing, and Luke starts to regale you with the tale of jack's bad rendition of lady gaga.

"i missed you." quinn is now standing behind you, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. he doesn't say it loud, but contented and quiet.

jack watches as you smooth your hands over his forearms, rolling your eyes in amusement.

"yes, yes, I missed you too, you clingy baby."

"hey! m'not clingy." he protested, his whole body pressed up against every inch of yours.

jack snorts, giving you a sympathetic look, "good luck with that one."

you jokingly flip him off, as you try to maneuver your much larger boyfriend.

"c'mon, hughes." quinn frowns at this.

"I only answer to quinny, my love, sweetie and baby."

"that's your name?" jack asked, only to be met with a dirty look from his brother. luke snickers as you shrug quinn into the passenger seat.

"thanks for watching him." you say as you walk over to the driver's side.

"thanks for coming to get him. did we interrupt anything?"

"nah, except your mom was showing me your guys' baby pictures." you eyes shine with mirth as they groan.

"please tell me she didn't-"

"yep, the bathtub pictures too." you smile, and quinn yells something from with in the car.

"okay, I should probably get the big baby home. you guys don't stay out too late, okay?" you tell them, and they bid you goodbye.

he watches you guys drive off, quinn probably saying something stupid as you laugh.

"y'know, i really hope she's the one." Luke tells him as they head back into the bar.

jack has never, ever seen his brother so happy. he's never seen him smile so willingly for anyone, and clearly, you have him wrapped around your finger.

"yeah, me too, man."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

+ all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

you're wearing your blue light glasses, a tank top and a pair of his plaid boxers as you sit cross-legged in your shared bed, hair loose around your shoulders.

you're working on something new, and quinn studies your features as you concentrate.

without looking up from your laptop, you grin, "stop staring, stalker."

he laughs, "you love it."

you meet his eyes as he crawls next to you. he lets you wipe at his mouth, where he's sure there's still remnants of toothpastes.

"i love you." you offer instead, and he pulls you onto his lap. his fingers inch up your thighs but stop there.

he just wants to feel you, before he has to leave for another roadie.

"i love you." he tells you matter-of-factly, "and i'm going to marry you one day."

"babe, we've only been together a little over 8 months," you protest, but he sees the glow of joy on your cheeks at his words.

"i know," he says confidently, "but i'm going to make you my wife, one day. all i want is you."

you melt at his words, laying your head on his shoulder, "all i want is you, and your sweet nothings."

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[betty-draper]

Quinn Hughes. Norris Trophy winner.

Congrats, Captain!

[puckinghischier]

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

[ancientfrozenglaciershark]

u know how people say a character is so character? hockey is SO sport. like more sport than any other sport. effort so effortful that players can only play for 50 seconds at a time? scoring attempts that can kill a person? players moving at 25 mph? time-out corner for the naughty? refs can break their bones? human dart board (goalie)? yeah.. sport