#want to watch hockey and I’m annoyed I can’t do both

[pwhlboston21]

Mood for today is sad because plans I made before I became a hockey fan have made it so I can’t watch either games tonight :((

[drewsbuzzcut]

some girl hitting on nick at a party ( after they are married) and Dallas losing her shit on her

Caught Up In It All

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic

warnings: jealousy, mentions sex, mentions underage drinking, and i think that’s all. (Let me know if i miss anything) This is also slightly edited

Dallas’ hips continue to grind up against Nick- even as the girl across the room continues to stare daggers into the couple’s heads. Nick’s hands are a good distraction as they travel all over her body. At first they held onto her hips, keeping her body flush against him, but then they moved up her torso. Now, one hand rests on her neck, angling her head up so he can seal his lips to hers. It’s like he knows someone is watching them.

The room is hot, sweat is dripping down the girl’s forehead. Her head becomes more and more fuzzy as their bodies sway sensually together.

Dallas makes eye contact with the same girl, so she gives her a cocky grin. Lifting an arm up, she throws it behind her, hand cupping the back of Nick’s neck as she starts to suck on his skin. There’s a red mark already blossoming in the area, highlighted by the glitter of her lip gloss. Dallas starts bending her knees, body going lower and lower as she dances in front of her boyfriend. He grabs both of her hands lifting them up as she gradually stands to her full height.

“Have I told you how sexy you are?” Nick pulls her into his arms, whispering his question in her ear.

She giggles, leaning more into his body before pecking his lips.

“You have many times, but you know I love hearing it,” she retorts, carding her fingers through his sweaty hair.

“You, my wife, are so incredibly sexy. I can’t wait to get my hands on you later,” he flatters her, nipping at her earlobe. Dallas swoons at “wife,” still not used to their recent nuptials.

“You’re the sexy one, husband,” she says hotly, hands going underneath his shirt.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks her in between hot kisses.

“Yes and while you do that I will go run to the restroom,” she says, kissing him before she leaves.

Dallas makes sure to fix her lip gloss, she cannot not have on lipgloss- especially when she’s at a party. After a few random selfies in the mirror, she makes her way out of the bathroom to find Nick waiting at the kitchen bar. With that girl. Dallas can feel the blood in her veins start to boil, the liquid courage egging her on as she confidently walks their way. Jealousy isn’t something she’s used to, but every now and then the green monster comes out to play.

Nick is clearly annoyed and the girl clearly isn’t getting the hint. He keeps backing up away from her each time she reaches a hand out to touch his bicep.

Act like nothing's wrong. Act graceful. No reaction is the best reaction.

“Baby!” Nick shouts once he sees his girl.

“Hi, handsome. What did you get me?” She greets him, pressing a kiss to his bicep and accepting her drink from his hands.

“Vodka and Red Bull,” he responds, pulling her under his arm.

“Who is this?” The girl in front of them asks Nick as if Dallas wasn’t even there.

“My wife, Dallas,” Nick informs her.

“Wife?” The girl partially shrieks, face showing an expression of shock and annoyance.

“That’s what he said, was it not? Who are you?” Dallas’ mouth speaks before she can think about what she’s saying.

“I’m Inez,” the girl, Inez, replies.

“Ironic,” Dallas scoffs, stopping her eyes from rolling no matter how hard it is. She is not in the mood to deal with another Inez.

“I was just talking with Nicky here about hockey. I love hockey. It’s so rough,” Inez explains with an overly eager tone. She attempts to reach out and squeeze Nick’s bicep, but Dallas subtly pushes her hand away.

“I’m gonna go back out to the dance floor. Come find me when you’re done here, Nicky,” Dallas says to Nick, mocking Inez’s nickname for her husband.

“No, stay with me. I’m just about to say goodbye,” he quickly responds, pulling Dallas back into his body. His arm goes over her shoulder, his hand coming down to affectionately squeeze at her boob. Dallas lets her smirk cover her features.

“So how long have you been married?”

“A month,” Dallas responds.

“Why get married so young? Did you get pregnant unexpectedly? Or are you just a money hungry slut going after his money?” Inez sneers, fixing Dallas with an accusatory glance.

Dallas and Nick are both stunned to silence. Dallas feels all sanity slip away as Nick starts to respond.

“Don’t ever talk that way about my-“

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Dallas is pissed.

“I’m just asking questions. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Inez defends herself.

“You ask too many fucking questions. We’re married because we’re in love. No, I’m not pregnant and no, I’m not after his money. The next time you want to ask stupid ass questions, maybe ask yourself why you’re the slut trying to go after my husband. You’re lucky I’ve been drinking, or I’d be beating the shit out of you for disrespecting me and my relationship. Get the fuck out of my face,” Dallas snaps, chest heaving and cheeks a shade of red Nick has never seen.

“I’m the slut? Says the girl who’s always around all the hockey players. Nick, she’s probably cheating on you with the whole team,” Inez spews out more accusatory remarks.

“Don’t start talking shit about my wife, especially when you don’t know anything,” Nick blurts out.

“Don’t fuck with me. I’m not playing about fighting you. If I hear one more disrespectful word come out of your mouth, I’ll make sure that everyone knows you’re a husband stealing bitch. Or at least an attempted one, because why the hell would my husband go after you when he has me? Learn your place and get the fuck away from us,” Dallas finishes.

Nick turns her around, pulling her into a hug, simply done paying any attention to the girl.

Inez walks away, her turn to be quiet.

“Are you okay?” Nick whispers, pulling back some to check on his wife.

“I’m fine, I promise. I know you were about to tell her off, but I just couldn’t stay silent,” Dallas responds, voice timid. She’s beyond flustered because she’s not used to being in situations like that.

“I love you, June bug. You’re my one and only,” Nick kisses her lips, wiping away the few tears that fall from her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, rubbing her back.

“She ruined our night, and now people are looking at us because I caused a scene,” she mutters.

“No she didn’t. We’re going to go back on the dance floor and dance until our feet hurt, and then I’m taking you home and I’m going to fuck my beautiful wife until she’s seeing stars, because she’s the most important thing in my life,” her husband says, making her blush and feel giddy.

“Can we just skip to the sex?” She asks, jokingly, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his lips some more. She hides her face in his shoulder, feeling the adrenaline crash.

“Come on, June bug,” he smirks at her, hands squeezing at her ass before he drags her to the dance floor.

“I think I need to get you one of the shirts about your girlfriend being hotter than everyone else,” Dallas shouts over the loud music.

Nick turns, pulling her body into his and smirks down at her.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. You are hotter than everyone else,” he says into the skin of her neck.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, leaning up to connect their lips in a bruising kiss.

“You’re mine,” Nick repeats, nibbling on her bottom lip before he dances the rest of the night away with his wife.

a/n: ENJOY!!!

[mattitties]

can u plz do a fluff fanfic about the reader being scared of thunder and there's a rlly loud thunder storm so matt has to comfort her? thanks :)

thunder - matt sturniolo

“Really? I love when it storms. I think it’s so peaceful and I can just curl up and watch a movie or something,” Matt tells me. It’s our second date and we’re in the “biggest fears” category, and I told him about my extremely irrational, but very severe, fear of storms. 

“I get that,” I reply. “It’s really not that I’m just scared of storms, my best friend’s house was struck by lightning and caught on fire when we were in high school, so it kind of just set something off in my head. I know it sounds stupid because it didn’t happen to me, but it just started this crazy fear.”

“Oh wow, that’s terrifying. No, I totally get it, it’s not stupid.”

As I sit with my knees tucked to my chest on my bathroom floor, I think back to that conversation from three months ago. It’s the first storm I’ve experienced since I moved to LA, and I’m a mess. My windows are rattling with each clap of thunder, and all I can think about is my roommate at work right now. She enjoys storms, but my anxiety is getting the best of me thinking about everything that could go wrong. 

What if she can’t make it to her car? What if she gets in an accident on the way home? What if I’m stuck here for the rest of the night by myself?

She’s the only person I’ve got here in LA. I had Matt, but then I fucked it all up right on our two month anniversary.

I was so ridiculously busy with work and what felt like 800 pounds of shit piling up in my life that I completely forgot about our anniversary. I stood him up at the dinner that he made reservations for, and subsequently didn’t go to the hockey game that he was going to surprise me with; the hockey game which he got $300 tickets for. 

I apologized profusely and told him I would do anything to make it up to him, and he told me he was just really disappointed and needed some space before we talked again.

He called me a couple days later and I didn’t answer because I was so ashamed and embarrassed I couldn’t even face him. 

He texted me, I never replied. After three days of missed calls and texts, I guess he got the message because he stopped trying.

A week after that, I texted him apologizing for everything and explained my intentions behind my actions.

He didn’t answer. I don’t blame him.

That was three weeks ago, and it’s been radio silence on both ends. I guess we’re really done, but I really, really need him right now.

I turn on the shower to try to drown out some of the noise of the thunder, but nothing is working. I look at the weather app. It shows the same pattern until tomorrow morning.

I’m so fucked. I can barely breathe, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I just want to die. I’ve been texting my roommate to see when she’s returning but she’s busy at work and I’m trying not to annoy her any more than I know I have been, so now I’m just sitting in front of the shower, praying that everything would just stop.

Ten or so minutes pass, and I hear the front door open. Nobody ever comes to our apartment and my roommate always forgets her key, so I just leave it deadbolted when I’m home. I turn off the shower and call out her name to let her know I’m home, but she must not hear me. I pull myself together as much as possible and go out to the living room, but I don’t see the face I expect when I get there.

“Matt?” I whisper. I’m in such shock that nothing else comes out.

He’s absolutely drenched as he stands by the front door with a bottle of lemonade. I love lemonade.

“Hi,” he smiles shyly as he raises the hand holding the bottle. “I, uh, brought you something.”

I have no idea what to say. I opt for, “what are you doing here?”

“Well, I know how much you hate storms, so I thought you could use some company. Also… I just really miss you. And I would like to talk about us. We don’t have to do it tonight, obviously, but–”

“Yes. Yes, we can talk. Tomorrow? We can get breakfast? My treat,” I say, sounding pathetically desperate, but this is all I’ve wanted for the past three weeks.

“Okay,” he says as he takes off his shoes. “Do you happen to still have some of my sweatshirts and sweatpants? I’m kinda…” he says, motioning to the water dripping off of him.

“Yes! In my room, come.” He follows me to my room and I give him his clothes that I’ve worn an embarrassing amount of times since we broke up. “You didn’t have to come tonight,” I tell him. “This is really, just… I don’t deserve this after what I did.”

He waves a hand at me as if to say forget about it. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. And I did have to come. Because I care about you, and I know you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”

I’m about to cry. I really don’t deserve this guy. 

“Let me go change, then we can crack open that lemonade and cuddle and watch something. Sound good?” he asks.

All I can do is nod in response as I watch him smile before he goes to the bathroom. I pour the lemonade into two glasses and set them on the bedside tables. 

When he comes back out and lays on my bed, I just stand there, wondering if he wants me to join him.

“Hello, what are you waiting for? Don’t leave me hangin!”

I smile and lay next to him, feeling more at home than ever when he pulls me into him.

[hearts4hughes]

Congratulations on 500!! I’m just spit balling here but can you please write something with jealous/protective jack. Like maybe the reader and the other boys were mucking around at like a lake house or something and maybe picking the reader up and throwing them in the water and jacks not happy about it maybe with the promt"no way.... you're actually jealous."

nora’s 500 celly !!

-

“put me down, trevor!” you screeched as he picked you up and walked to the edge of the dock. unfortunately, your protests were ignored as he threw you into the water, jumping in right after you.

when you surfaced, you felt trevor’s arms snake around your body. his wheezy laugh filled your ears and you relaxed into his body.

anything between you and trevor was strictly platonic. his personality was outgoing and flirty, and it always has been. when you first met him, you thought he had a crush on you because of the buckets of compliments and flirty remarks you had gotten from him. but after that, you realized that was just his humor, and you never thought of him as anything more than a friend.

however, you do have a huge crush on one of his close friends, jack. jack is a brunette, hockey player, with amazing charm. almost everything about him screamed boyfriend material, and because of that, you were infatuated with him.

jack watched from afar as trevor clung to your body. jealousy ran through his veins. why was he so close to you? we’re you guys more than friends? did you like him? did trevor like you?

with a huff, he raises to his feet, “i’m going to grab a drink.” his voice was sharp and annoyed. you turn around to trevor with furrowed brows. he wears the same expression.

“what was that about?” he asks, causing you to shrug. you untangle yourself from trevor and swim over to the dock.

“i’m going to go see if he’s ok.” you say, placing both arms on the wooden dock and hoisting yourself up. you grab a towel, barely bothering to dry off before racing into the house after jack.

“jack?” you open the glass door to an oddly quiet house. he hums in response and closes the refrigerator door with a beer in hand. “is everything ok?”

he nods in reply.

your eyes can’t help but scan his shirtless body. he’s tense and stiff, but it does wonders for his abs. the slight tan he got made his muscles more defined and your knees nearly buckled at the sight.

he watched as your eyes wandered around his naked torso. a slight smirk took over his lips. “my eyes are up here, baby.” he teases, taking a swig of beer and placing it down.

red paints your cheeks as you quickly change the subject. “you sounded upset outside. are you sure you’re ok?” you ask again, moving closer to him.

he doesn’t say anything but his eyes talk for him. they flutter back and fourth between your lips and your eyes. he blinks rapidly, pulling himself out of whatever trance he was in.

“do you like trevor?” his voice is quiet and his features are soft. “more than a friend, i mean.” he elaborates.

more than a friend? you had thought he had known the relationship dynamic between you and trevor. had he not? why would it matter to him anyway?

then it clicked.

“no way… you’re actually jealous.” you grin.

his eyes enlarge as his breath hitches in his throat. “what- i’m not- i wasn’t-” he sputtered, clearly trying to mask his nerves.

he throws his head back and runs his hands through his hair frustratedly.

“jack, it’s ok. i was just joking.” you reassure. he lets out a sigh of relief in response. “i’ll meet you outside, ok?” you say and turn around to leave the house.

jack wants to confess his feelings for you so bad. he needs to confess everything to you. all these moments and opportunities he’s had, and he continues to chicken out, playing it safe by hiding his true emotions. but not this time.

“y/n, wait.” he grabs your wrist, halting your steps. his touch on your wrist sends sparks shooting up your spine.

slowly, you turn around. once again, being face to face with the love of your life.

“yes?” you reply. you want to guess what he’s about to admit. god, you know exactly what he’s about to admit. however, you push back the storyline created in your head. there’s no way jack hughes was about to confess his feelings to you. that stuff only happens in the movies.

or so you thought.

“i like you a lot.” he admits, removing his hand from your wrist and scratching the back of his neck nervously. “more than friends.”

a weight feels like it’s lifted off of your shoulders when the words leave his lips. you swear you pinched yourself just to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“you don’t know how long i’ve waited for you to say that.”

[behoright]

lightning on my skin l k. dach

there's nothing I can do / I just can't resist

summary: kirby + you + a house full of family members + an empty car...

wordcount: 3.2k

song: where would I be? - gwen stefani

warnings: 18+! smut sooo minors begone! unprotected sex, dirty talk and semi public sex. whoopsies. oh also cursing.

a/n: i'm sl*t for this man but no I will never admit it in public. enjoy.

𓇽 ⊹ ᨘ ִֶ໑𓇽 ⊹ ᨘ ִֶ໑𓇽 ⊹ ᨘ ִֶ໑𓇽 ⊹ ᨘ ִֶ໑

“You’re such a dumbass, Kirbs.”

“What? He was just being annoying so, I had to do it.”

The sounds of the crickets consorted your laughs as you and Kirby sat eating in his G Wagon, recently coming back from a lovely date at the nearby park. Despite being your second year of dating, this had been the first summer you had fully spent together. Staying at the Dach household had been an interesting but nonetheless exhilarating experience; you found out just how quickly chaos could ensue when Kirby and Colton were left to their own devices under the same roof. Proving that age was just a number, from day one it was plain and simple that they naturally retreated back to their little child selves, most of their interactions ending up with a playful physical altercation of some sort.

“You can’t tell me he wasn’t being entirely too cocky, Y/N.” he said with his mouth full of fries, his eyes widening over at you.

“He is your baby brother!” you exclaimed.

“Well, he’s no longer a baby. It’s a fair fight, that’s all I’m saying.” he chuckled.

Kirby hadn’t been this excited for a summer in a long time. 

Your internship now having wrapped up, he finally had the time to steal you and your newfound free time. He knew as soon as the season ended that he was going to keep you in his hometown all for himself. 

Seeing you interact with his family made Kirby’s heart flutter; cooking with his mom or ice skating with his dad and brother after their practice. 

You had met them before, but these were novel circumstances for the both of you. 

Any nerves he might have had swiftly vanished as you both settled in, making yourself at home in the most respectful way possible. 

He was able to forget about the stress of hockey and fitting your schedules together, and just revel in the normalcy of slowly waking up with you, knowing that you had virtually no strict plans for the day. 

“You guys are insane. These are full-on fights!” you laughed.

“You should have seen them when we were younger. They were actually much worse.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Your parents told me all about that.”

You naturally clicked with everyone in his family, so much so that his grandparents came fastly to meet you as well. It astounded him how you were able to pull everyone in so genuinely, leaving his introverted soul wrapped up in admiration. 

He was proud to have you with him. You completed each other nicely and in very practical ways.

“Oh god, please don’t remind me of all the embarrassing stories they brought up.” he blushed.

“Why? You really don’t want to talk about that little bath stor-”

“No, no! I’m changing topics! I’m pulling that card out!” he exclaimed.

“Alright, alright.” you laughed, throwing your head back against the headrest. As much as he was blushing, you could see him hiding a smile underneath it all. 

However, his house perpetually rustling came with its downsides. He enjoyed it most of the time, however, he missed the privacy of your shared apartment back in Montreal. 

When he watched you walk around his family home every morning his mind couldn’t help but flash back to seeing you strut around naked, getting your coffee ready, all from the comfort of his messed up bed, underwear, and clothes scattered on the ground from the night before. 

He missed that. A lot.

It was hard to have some alone time knowing his family members were around you both constantly. 

The last thing he wanted to do is make anyone uncomfortable. Not when there were literal months left in the summer.

So, Kirby decided to get creative. 

Much to his surprise, it ended up sparking a newfound love for public affection, in more ways than one, for the both of you, which just pushed him to explore more. 

Your first date of the summer that started with a picnic at the lake, and lovingly ended with you both hiding behind some trees for a while. The feeling of getting caught rushed through you equally as you consummated your love truly in public for the first time. 

So you unconsciously kept it going for most of the summer, looking for new places every day to spend time at. 

“You know, you’re bad for making me eat this.” he snickered at you.

“Oh, c’mon, tell me you don’t miss eating this junk during the season.”

“I do, I do.” he said, wiping his hands clean. “You know what I miss more though?”

“Mmm?” you asked, piling all the trash together.

“You.”

You turned your head up to find Kirby staring at you, his signature smirk peering over at you. 

“You’re so sweet.” 

“I mean it.” Kirby took his fingers to move to your hair behind your ear, gazing over your features. “I just wish I had a little more time with you every day.”

“Hey, we still make it work pretty well, right?”

“We do.” Kirby’s fingers lingered on you, now cupping your cheek. “I’m still going to enjoy this summer. As much as I can. I’m not letting you out of my sight, baby.”

His eyes trailed down to your mouth before he closed the gap between you two. 

The kiss was smoldering, both of your intentions clear as your brought each other closer despite the console dividing you.

“Kirby…”

“Baby..?” he said, his lips grazing against yours.

“Mm… here?” you asked.

“Mmhm.” Kirby answered in between kisses. “The back windows are tinted anyways.”

You turned your face to tentatively look at your surroundings, Kirby’s hands beginning to mess up your clothes already, his fingertips at your exposed bra strap. The parking lot was mostly empty, all families in their homes as the sun began to set. 

“You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything before.” Kirby said, his eyes dumbfoundedly fixated on your cleavage. 

“About doing it here, dingbat.” you snapped him back to reality, playfully hitting his arm.

“It’s more private than the park...” he said, smirking again. “...and the lake, and the rink, and the boat, or the mal-”

“Okay, okay.” you laughed, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon, baby.” Kirby winked as he stepped outside while you moved in giddiness to the backseat over the middle console. 

You came face to face as he quickly shut the door behind him, your hot breaths colliding as he began to crawl above you, sending your back to lay against the warm leather of the seats. 

“Hi, beautiful.” he said, a smile appearing on his face.

“You’re quite the charmer for someone who’s about to take me in the back of his car.” you uttered, eyes focused on his lips, inching closer to you.

“...take you?” he asked, millimeters away from you. “I’m not going to take you, baby. I’m going to fuck you.”

Kirby wasted no time and aggressively sent his tongue inside your mouth, his pelvis already rubbing against your jean shorts. 

The walk in the park had been nice, but it had left you both a little heated and damp, in every way imaginable.

“That’s the Kirby I know.” you moaned, his tongue now trailing behind your ear and neck. “Always so hot and heavy.”

“Hey, I can be sweet.” he uttered defensively against your skin. “You want me to make love to you?” 

His head snapped up as he asked you, his questioning and piercing eyes looking for an answer in yours.

“Fuck no. I like you hot and heavy.” you said, bringing his face back onto yours, chuckling into the kiss.

He adorably kept giggling as he planted loud and silly kisses on your chin, moving down your chest and further lowering himself down the axis of your body. 

He had a tough exterior at times, but Kirby was playful at heart, and he didn’t leave that outside of the bedroom either. You found yourselves laughing and joking during your sexual escapades quite often actually, and it fulfilled you in the most endearing of ways.

“You’re smoking hot, babe.” he uttered against your belly.

“It is pretty hot outside.” you said, sitting up on your elbows. 

“Oh, you’re funny.” he laughed, sitting up as he began to undo the button of your shorts. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“And you know I don’t know how to take compliments. Not even yours.” you lifted your hips up, Kirby ripping your bottoms off of you. 

“Well, let me tell you a different way then.” he smirked.

“Kirby Dach, you are the cheesi-.”

You were hastily interrupted, Kirby licking up your pussy vigorously before bringing your hips all the way up to latch his mouth against your heaving sex. Forthwith, the sensation took you back to the countless nights your boyfriend had spent buried in your pussy, relentlessly getting you to the point of having to pull him off of you before your legs twitched hard enough to accidentally hurt him. 

The truth was that time stopped for Kirby whenever he lowered his face in between your thighs. He loved to get his jaw wet with spit and juices; even more, he loved grinding against the mattress for hours, sending tingles up his spine every time. Knowingly playing an edging game with his body, and your own at the same time, taking you both closer to the edge with controlled and precise force.

Despite not having enough space in his beloved G-Wagon for you both to lay down, he wasn’t going to skimp out. Bringing you all the way up to him was a risky move, but he wasn’t up for much thinking when he had you so bothered underneath him like this. 

He held your body securely, his biceps flexing around your ass and hips. As his tongue lapped in circles, he couldn’t help but trail up your body with his gaze. The nature of your position allowed for your shirt to bunch up, showing the softness of your stomach that he adored so much. However, seeing your breasts up to your chin, flushed just as much as your cheeks were, your face overcome by pleasure, had him gripping your hips extra tightly.

“God, baby.” he whispered against you, covering your skin in goosebumps. “You’re going to make me bust.”

“Fuck me, Kirby.”

He dropped your hips immediately, letting it hurt as he unzipped his pants, his erection serendipitously springing onto you. 

“I love you so much, baby, that was so good, but I-, I simply can’t wait.” you pleaded.

“I love you more baby; a couple more seconds of you wriggling like that in my arms and I wouldn't have been able to wait either.” he answered, removing as much clothing as possible.

Kirby was hot and heavy in every sense of the word. And it felt so good as it slapped your pussy whenever he pulled himself free of his clothes. 

“God, take a look at that.” he growled.

He set his blue eyes on the tip of his cock, parting your folds, glistening with his saliva and precum. The sun was lowering itself beautifully on the other side of the park, its rays peeking through the trees and his seats to create shimmering windows of light on your bodies. He felt the ridges of his member dampen as he kept plunging himself back and forth on top of you. He could feel the lust of his heartbeat in every single one of his veins and quickly into yours as he slowly dipped his cock inside you with a groan. 

You were mostly sure he had never realized it, but Kirby loved to push the tip of his dick inside you first and pause, just for a handful of seconds. 

Inadvertently, filling your cunt up with his body was one of his most cherished parts of fucking. 

There was something about the overwhelming feeling that took over his entire being when he felt your walls surround him concretely, soaking himself in all the gushy desire that had been building up inside you. 

He felt as if you had been waiting for him, and he loved to feel responsible for absorbing the aching that resided inside you as he bottomed himself out. 

Continuously, Kirby never took his eyes off you when he first thrust; the first time you had sex, he had to immediately take a break, the look on your face almost sending him over the edge completely. 

The sigh. 

The way your eyes rolled back. 

And he could always hear your vocal cords contract in the back of your throat in the slightest moan, but never strong enough to let it out.

It was almost inaudible, but it was there, and it drove him mad.

He loved being the only man that got to see you like this.

And you loved being the only one that got to notice the ritualistic thinking in your boyfriend, without fail.

His legs trembled as his pelvis came flush with your legs, pushing himself all the way inside you after feeling you clench once around the ridge of his head. 

Right underneath it, squeezing around him so deliciously as a signal for more. 

As soon as he saw that lovely look on you he was quick to throw your legs on his shoulders before he began thrusting steadily inside you. 

He tried to resist himself every time, and his efforts were never futile, but you knew they never lasted long. 

The more you showed your pleasure, the more he lost it. 

Kirby liked it deep and fast, and you were never one to complain about it. 

He let his head lull forward as he anchored a rhythm in his thrusts, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. 

“Oh, Kirby.” you moaned. “That feels so good, baby.”

He didn’t dare to look, feeling your hips begin to tilt forward already as you arched your back in the delight of his shoving inside you.

His brain went offline completely, letting all of the muscles in his face relax entirely, preoccupied only with the movement of his cock. 

“Keep talking, baby.” he uttered, almost whispering. “You sound like a fucking angel.”

The tremble in his deep voice was crystal clear, the knuckles of his fingers turning white as he gripped onto the flesh of your thighs. 

“I thought I was going to lose it today, babe. I wanted you so fucking bad.” you moaned, the leather quietly creaking as you angled yourself closer to him again. 

Kirby’s chest began to rumble, attempting to hold his moaning back as he stayed transfixed in the physical sensation of your bodies uniting. 

You could see him begin to sweat, flushing deeper every time he pulled out of you with a low, tight-lipped groan; a droplet lovingly trickled down the long hair strands that hung in front of his face before falling on your stomach. Every time they dripped onto you, it felt like you could hear a sizzle, your skin enveloped in lust as it flinched back with every single thrust.

It was nearly lovable how much he tried to control himself, always to no avail, but you could tell today, through your half-open eyes, that it wasn’t going to last long.

The reality was that the more he focused on the physical sensation, the hotter he got. 

The more relaxed you felt his whole body, the harder he became inside you, growing against your most sensitive spots. 

Quite curiously, the slowly blinking of his eyes open happened to come at the time your head fully tilted back, a glorious arch in your figure as your eyes fluttered closed. The muscles of his belly tensed at the coiling that he felt growing inside him, the only thing that was now softening being his jaw as he opened his mouth at the reverie of the woman reaching a  climax in front of him and underneath his touch.

“Oh fuck, like that, baby?” he asked, speeding up his movements just enough to let his skin stickily slap against you. 

“M-,m-,m-.”

Unfortunately for you, speaking was never your forte as you reached your edge. 

Fortunately for Kirby, it made him so horny he involuntarily hunched over, his body spasming as he swore he could see your pupils at the back of your head underneath your fluttering eyelids. 

He took the hint to increase his pace, slowly but surely, your shoulders trembling all the way down to your hips. His rough pubic bone came in contact with you, rubbing against your clit and exquisitely sending you over the edge. 

Your system went haywire as you came, sweet moans filling up the steamy car as you shook in pleasure underneath and around him, scratching his beloved leather seats. 

Any attempt to moan his name was inefficacious, but the effort was noticed by your boyfriend who pushed your convulsing legs further down, coming close to your face.

He had officially lost it, now dedicating himself to keeping you in this state as long as possible.

Kirby was able to somehow plant his feet against some steady surfaces of his luxury car, having the fresh ability to speed up, his eyes still stuck on your delirious elation that wouldn’t concede.

“Fuck, baby, you look so fucking good like this.” he moaned.

His muscular thighs tensed as he pounded into you, your cunt now gushing liquid all around him; you could only turn your head around as you sharply inhaled, letting the glee send sparks throughout your nervous system, your body moving on its own. 

It was so much that you both failed to feel the car shake with the power of his thrusts as he recognized the familiar creeping sensation begin to move inside him, his orgasm not far behind yours.

“This is-, this is-, fuck, baby, I can’t hold back.” he groaned, letting his forehead fall next to your head, his wet hair seeping sweat into yours. 

Finally, you managed the find the strength to move your fingers to the back of his neck, holding onto his hair for dear life as you began to descend back to earth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Kirby came loudly as he let himself go, shooting his hot and milky seed inside you with deep thrusts; roaring, he was noisy enough to be heard outside of the vehicle, but neither of you cared as he stayed inside you, flesh to flesh, his cock still twitching and painting your insides white. 

“Oh my fucking god, Y/N.” he said with his head still down before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“I could say the same thing to you.” you laughed, smart enough to reach slightly above you and open the passenger door only a crack. 

The evening, fresh air barged its way into the stuffy car, the fog on the windows starting to disappear slowly. The change in temperature made Kirby snap up, deeply inhaling almost unknowingly before finding you.

“Good?” you asked, Kirby’s favorite smile looking right at him.

“Better than good.” he coaxed. “You’re a dream, Y/N.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dach.” you chuckled, an adoring kiss planted on your forehead.

“I love you.” he whispered into your skin.

“I love you.” you answered just as lovingly.

....

“Where do you want to go tomorrow, baby?”

[delayed-affection]

Kiss me goodbye

Navigation Oneshots

Ethan Edwards x reader

Warnings: takes place near the end of sophomore year, pet name used like twice (Honey, Baby)

Word Count: 0.7k

When Ethan was drafted into the Devils it was the happiest you’ve ever seen him and yet he chose to stay and play at Michigan.

And you knew that one day he would have to leave to go fulfill his dream of being a hockey player but you never thought it would happen so soon.

Yet here you are, pacing in your dorm room wishing for time to stop. Ethan said that he would be stopping by before he had leave.

You’re honestly glad you didn’t have any classes today, unsure if you could even last the day without crying.

You’re fully aware that he’s not dying or anything, but you have two years left of school and you won’t be able finish it with him.

You stop pacing when there’s a knock on the door, opening it you Ethan on the side. He immediately pulls you into a hug.

"Sorry I’m late." he whispers into your ear, his voice cracking with emotion.

You can feel his body trembling against yours, and you know that he's been crying. You wrap your arms around him, offering the comfort he so desperately needs.

You guide him inside and close the door, leading him to your bed where you both sit down.

Sitting turns into laying and laying turns into cuddling.

You nuzzle your head into his chest, “I don’t want you to leave.”

He rubs your back, “I know, honey. But hey we’ll see each other in the summer.”

“That’s so far from now.” You whine

He chuckles finding you missing him cute, “It’s like three months from now.”

You pick your head up to look at him, “And when summers over?”

“Why not think about seeing me in the summer?” He questions

You put you head back on his chest, “Because I know we won’t be seeing each other after that.”

“Honey, Baby, look at me.” He tells you, “Do you know who I’m still going to be annoying the shit out of everyday?”

You give him a confused look.

“You. And do you know who I’m going to be texting before and after every game? Or calling when I can’t fall asleep?” He asks

“Me, I hope.” You joke

He kisses your forehead and laughs, “Exactly. Everything I do now, I’ll do when I’m out there. The only difference is that I’ll be blowing up your phone to the point that you’re sick of me.”

“Well I’ll be blowing your phone up as soon as you leave.” You claim

“When aren’t you blowing up my phone?” He teases

“I rarely do.” You argue

“My tiktok notifications say otherwise.”

~

The two of you now stand by the door knowing that he has leave.

He gives you a sad smiles and says, "I love you."

You don't say anything in return. But the hot tears begin to run down your face. He holds your face in his hands, looking at you. His eyes are glazed over.

"You can't cry cause then I’ll cry." he says sniffling.

He wipes away your tears, “And we both know I’m an ugly crier.”

You let out a choked laugh.

He wipes away a tear before it could fall, “Don’t laugh, not everyone was blessed to be a pretty crier.”

“Please you’re the prettiest person I know.” You quip

He smiles and shakes his head, “Thank you but you didn’t say I was the prettiest crier.”

You shrug, “It was implied.”

“It was implied.” He mocks

You smile at his childish behavior, “You’re a pretty crier.”

He gives you a quick peck on the lips, “Thank you but there’s no need to lie.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re so funny, Edwards.”

He gives you a smug look, “I know it’s one of my best traits.”

He looks at his watch, and you can see the time, it is nearly five.

He sighs, “I have to get going.”

“Take me with you.” You tell him

“I would if I could, baby.” He replies

You pull him into a tight hug, holding back tears, “Kiss me one last time before you go.”

His lips were so soft, so sweet, his touch was everything to you. Your body trembles, and your eyes begin to water over.

“I'm not sure what I’m going do without you.” you whisper

He leans in, kissing you softly, gently, before pulling away to look at you. You looked so beautiful. So beautiful yet so fragile.

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (147-148)

In which Bryce and Jared fight, make up, and learn about the 'Bryce and Jared are being gross again' group chat. Also a relationship is brewing in the background.

If you want to follow along, the series page is here.

147. Coddled

If Jared suggests a walk Bryce scoffs like he’s being ridiculous. A drive? A date? Hanging out with Gabe and Stephen? Absurd. He doesn’t even want to hang out with Dmitry, which is not something Jared thought he’d ever be trying to force on him. He doesn’t want to watch a movie, or TV. He doesn’t want to eat Jared’s cooking, or go for dinner, or grab takeout, or get something delivered.

And it’s not just that he doesn’t want to do things: he doesn’t want Jared to do things either, with or without Bryce. If Jared hangs out with Gabe and/or Stephen, Bryce looks hurt, even though he’s been invited every time. If Jared goes for a walk he returns to a betrayed face. If Jared goes to work out Bryce looks like Jared kicked him in the teeth.

Bryce has firmly hit the ‘I don’t want to be cheered up and I don’t to have fun and cheery people who have fun are offensive to me’ stage of recovery.

And Jared doesn’t want Bryce going in on his own, not because he’s scared of doctors or anything, just because he mutely accepts whatever’s said, doesn’t advocate for himself, doesn’t even seem like he was there sometimes, for all the information he has after.

Bryce is very ‘nod nod nod’ with doctors. Jared is ‘ask questions and take notes’ with doctors.

And now Elaine goes with Bryce to his appointments. Jared texts her questions to ask the doctors, and she asks all of them and writes down the answers for him.

Elaine is a natural ‘nod nod nod’ herself, but Jared asked her for help, so.

Before he was told he needed surgery, Bryce was stoic. All ‘I’m fine’, ‘it’s fine’, ‘I can’t believe they’re making such a big deal about this, I’ve played through this shit before’. As soon as he was told he wasn’t playing hockey without surgery he crumpled into the miserable ball he is right now, but before that? Jared didn’t have a clue how bad it was, and Bryce didn’t seem to either. That, or he was very good at pretending.

He was definitely downplaying it, but he didn’t know how bad it was either. The key there is ‘I’ve played through this shit before’.

He does, however, ask how Bryce is feeling and whether he’s in pain and if he needs help with anything so frequently that it’s clearly annoying, though frankly everything seems to be annoying to Bryce right now. Which: fine. Good. Turnabout is fair play, they can annoy each other until they die.

~Romance.

“Hi Jared,” Elaine says brightly.

“I hate your son,” Jared says.

“He in the ‘sulking room’?” Elaine asks, still smiling. Jared can hear the quotes. Elaine’s heart is too pure to call it that herself, other than echoing Jared’s occasional — semi-frequent — rants. She’s a good listener. And understands. And doesn’t stomp to the sulking room in a snit fit.

Elaine is the most patient person alive. With both of them.

Elaine is allowed in the sulking room, which is bullshit.

That is because the sulking room is mostly the ‘be cranky without Jared getting cranky about me being cranky’ room at this stage. Bryce isn’t big on solitude, generally. But Jared keeps suggesting activities, and offering things, and telling him he’s the most annoying person alive, when Bryce just wants to sulk. (the sulking room is not an inaccurate name)

And he's stuck with that exasperating, dramatic sulking child of a —

"Please, Jared," Bryce says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me how you really feel about me.”

A dramatic sulking child of a husband who uses his own tactics against him. That's fucking bullshit. Sarcasm is not Bryce's thing. It's Jared's thing. Bryce can't just take his things.

They’re both intolerable.

"You're both intolerable," Stephen says

Stephen’s with me.

“Gabe doesn’t like confrontation,” Stephen says, in a way that makes it clear he considers that a flaw.

“Neither do you,” Gabe says. “You literally got on multiple planes—"

Stephen is very much on the flight side of fight or flight. Literally, in that case.

“Who’s fighting?” Gabe says. “Well. Other than the obvious.”

His gesture encompasses Jared and an empty seat at the table beside him. Bryce has locked himself in the bathroom, Jared’s pretty sure.

As is Bryce.

“And I think you’re done with the wine now,” Gabe says, emptying the bottle in Stephen’s glass before going to the kitchen. He takes Jared’s half-full glass of wine with him. Jared doesn’t protest.

Gabe is partly saying this because Jared is about to burst into tears, and alcohol won’t help the situation, but mostly this was because Stephen gave him raised eyebrows that Gabe correctly interpreted as ‘give us a minute?’.

“It’s the helplessness that fucks you up,” Stephen says, serious now. “The pain, the uncertainty, the betrayal of your body, the fucking sympathy, everyone tiptoeing around you like you’re about to explode, those are all awful. But it’s the helplessness. Well. And the itching.”

The itching isn’t so bad for Bryce, as he doesn’t have a cast, nor as much healing skin, but the rest is pretty accurate.

“Stop doing shit for him,” Stephen says. “Seriously. He doesn’t want it, and he doesn’t need it, and the sooner you stop, the better things are going to go for the next few months.”

“I’m not—“ Jared says.

“He can serve himself salad with one hand,” Stephen says. “You can do a lot with one hand. Let him ask if he needs you to help him. Stop assuming he does. And stop mistaking him taking awhile with things for him needing you to take over. He already feels helpless enough without you acting like you think so too.”

Jared also feels helpless. Also once again, Stephen giving Jared the advice he needs, phrased in a way that Jared will actually listen to, because they are very similar. (Sometimes so similar it makes Gabe vaguely uneasy, but mostly it means he's very fond of Jared. Also kind of protective of him.)

“I didn’t—“ Jared says.

“You did,” Stephen says. “And just from experience? It’s the most aggravating thing in the world. Other than the itching. Now go get him out of my bathroom.”

“I thought he didn’t need help,” Jared says.

“I’m sure he can manage the door knob,” Stephen says. “But that boy has a flair for the dramatic, and we will need our bathroom back eventually.”

“You have another bathroom,” Jared says.

“I don’t like the soap in that one,” Stephen says. “Stop stalling.”

Don’t think you can fool Stephen with your ‘stalling via argumentation’ tactics. He’s used that tactic far too many times for it to work on him.

“Guys,” Stephen says. “I really do hate the soap upstairs.”

Bryce snorts wetly into Jared’s shoulder. Jared kisses the top of his head.

“And fucking in our bathroom is a good way to completely destroy your recovery timeline,” Stephen says. “For the record. I’m not rushing them, Gabe, they’ve been in there for an hour. It’s our bathroom.”

It’s thick. Why is the upstairs soap THICK. That is not the right kind of texture for soap.

There wasn’t any fucking, but there was a lot of hugging and a few tears. Mostly from Bryce, but not solely.

“Ready to go out?” Jared asks.

“Only if Stephen doesn’t make fun of me,” Bryce says.

“Good luck with that,” Jared says, and when Bryce tilts his head up, he kisses his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth, tipped into a smile for what feels like the first time in forever.

*

Stephen doesn’t make fun of Bryce once. It’s a genuine miracle.

Stephen has a LOT of sympathy for Bryce right now. (And a fair amount for Jared too. He knows he was hard to be around during his recovery, for all Gabe would argue if he said as much.)

“Sixteen weeks is the best case scenario,” Elaine says when Jared calls, like she’s psychic. Or more likely she’s well aware what mood Bryce is in right now, since she was at the appointment with him, knew Bryce wasn’t in shape to be telling Jared shit.

“From the surgery date or—“ Jared says, then winces when Elaine makes a negative noise. He knew it was a long road from shoulder surgery, one of the longest there is, knew there was a reason players put it off if it wasn’t the only feasible course of action, but he’d thought Bryce would be on the lower end of it like the overachiever he is, had this dumb thought that the docs would be like, ‘wow, what a great job healing so far, Bryce, let’s cut the normal recovery estimate in half.’

Shoulder surgery falls behind hip surgery and like, broken femur, but not much else, as far as recovery timelines go in hockey.

You can’t rush back from that one. Can’t take faceoffs, can’t shoot a puck, can’t really properly carry your stick, let alone cross-check, slash or hook someone (I know those are penalties, but, you know ~also not, depending on how the refs are feeling/how many penalties each team has taken/the score.)

Also Jared unconsciously thinking Bryce is so great he’ll heal like Wolverine is very sweet.

“That’s the best case scenario,” Elaine says. “Most likely he won’t be in the roster until early March. Worst case scenario, he’ll miss the season. They say he should be ready for the postseason, but—”

Early March is almost dead on when Bryce got activated off LTIR.

Bryce’s shoulders shake, and Jared wonders, absurdly, if crying’s like, allowed in the rehabilitation plan.

But seriously though.

“You really thought I could like, push through surgery timetables?” Bryce says.

“I mean,” Jared says. It sounds stupid when Bryce says it like that, like a ridiculous hope. Which Jared guesses it was. “You’re very determined.”

Seriously. Very sweet.

“I know,” Jared says. “Is there — I know you don’t need help, but is there anything — can I do anything?”

“Just stay here?” Bryce says.

“Yeah,” Jared says, lacing their fingers. “I can do that.”

“Thanks,” Bryce says, and they have a good sulk in the sulking room together.

Their first co-sulk, but not their last.

Also look at you following Stephen’s advice!

148. Ventilation

Things slowly work themselves out. Jared didn’t realise he was expecting that, but he must have been, because it feels more like ‘of course things work out’, instead of ‘thank fuck things work out’, though he is grateful.

This is an Upper Case series, after all.

There’s another Canuck there, and Jared doesn’t know Brayden very well — he’s very much a Brayden — but it’s some familiarity, at least.

Jared continuing with his unreasonable anti-Braden/Brayden/Braeden (etc) sentiment.

Maybe he just missed getting out of the apartment, and anything would be a relief after sitting around listening to Bryce complain. He certainly never liked traffic before now. Well, he still doesn’t, but even the commute doesn’t really bother him, gives him a chance to sort through his head, shit that’s gotten tangled with the stress and constant Bryce exposure. Jared missed — himself, he guesses.

Jared is very much an introvert, and Bryce is one of the very few people who doesn’t actively drain his energy, but he still needs solitude to recharge. Which was a pretty easy thing to do when they were long-distance, and even living and playing together, but not so much when Bryce barely leaves the house except to see his doctors or his physiotherapist.

that’s way better than when they were limited to, like, ‘hey what did you think of the movie we just zoned out in front of’ or ‘what do you feel like for dinner? nothing, huh? don’t know why I bothered asking’ or ‘were you sulking again, or just napping?’.

The important questions.

Dmitry’s finally bugged Bryce into visiting. Jared’s been assured the Kurmazov children have been told to keep their hands to themselves. He’s sure they don’t, but Bryce somehow survives the affection of small children anyway. This time, at least.

They absolutely do not keep their hands to themselves, but they are actually touchingly gentle with him. Dmitry and Oksana are raising two good kids.

And if discussions with the docs went in one ear and out the other with Bryce, basically the opposite seems to happen with his physiotherapist. Jared would genuinely not be surprised if he found out Bryce’s new monologues are recited verbatim from his sessions. Jared's learning more about anatomy than he did in bio.

Hyperfocus is an incredible thing.

"No," Jared says. Not on purpose. But yes. "Um. Trapezius? Right? You were talking about—"

"You just named the first muscle you could think of," Bryce accuses him.

It was supraspinatus, which sounds NOTHING LIKE TRAPEZIUS, JARED.

it's great seeing Bryce happy about anything. He gets all enthusiastic about it, face lit up, so Jared finds himself getting distracted, missing the what Bryce is saying because he's busy watching Bryce's face, so animated by the subject, probably wearing a soppy as fuck expression as he does.

It is so fucking soppy.

I think I've become Bryce. Jared texts Julius while Bryce is on the phone with his mom, giving her the physio play-by-play. Anyone else Jared could text would just 'aww' and not appreciate the very mixed feelings Jared has right now. Or would say ‘eww’ but is a Matheson and therefore not an option.

Why must you make Julius listen to this. He does not want to know.

Does Bryce do that? Like, all the time? Does he just look at Jared's face and think thoughts that fond and mushy on a regular basis? Is that Bryce’s life?

Yes.

How dare he look at Jared like that. Has he met Jared? Jared isn’t endearing.

You have your moments.

I found myself staring at him like he was like idk the moon while he told me about his physio. Like the fucking heart eyes emoji. Some soppy shit.

gross Julius says.

I know. Jared replies. It's disgusting.

I'm not talking to you any more Julius says.

Jared does not blame him.

At least Julius can be honest about how little he wants to know about this without Jared taking any offence whatsoever (he too kind of wishes he didn’t know)

Jared’s car should probably stop chilling in his parents’ driveway eventually. Not that they need two cars right now, since Bryce isn’t allowed to drive, but mom’s threatening to invoke ‘finders keepers’, and Jared’s only 90% sure she’s kidding.

She would never, as that’s theft. She might get it towed, though. Her and Don have been swapping who has to deal with street parking, and it’s gotten old.

Erin’s up in Edmonton staying with a university friend

lol

dad uses Erin’s absence as an excuse to make absolutely everything she doesn’t like eating — AKA vegetables — most of which he pulls off with aplomb.

They only eat seafood when Jared’s absent, as well as recipes Don knows aren’t in Jared’s nutrition plan. Don’s biggest thing with cooking is other people enjoying the food, and planning ahead so he’s preparing a meal that everyone at the table can enjoy is honestly one of his favourite aspects of cooking. All Mathesons like planning. Even when they sometimes forget their plans due to hot headedness.

Everything has to be done exactly so, or it’s all going to fail, according to dad. And Jared’s with him when it comes to taking stuff out of the oven in time and shit, but weighing butter to make sure each stick was the same weight? Jared thinks that was maybe a step too far. Presumably they do all that at the butter factory.

You know Jared repeatedly said that last bit while Don scowled at him.

Dad gives him a plate of snacks to take out, tells him not to ruin his appetite — Jared is getting mixed signals here — and then Jared’s freed from the kitchen.

Share your snacks with your mom, Jared, that’s what it means.

“He’s a tyrant,” Jared says.

“I’ve stopped making anything but coffee and toast,” his mom says, nudging the plate of snacks closer to her. If she thinks she’s being subtle about it, she’s not.

She knows Don intended half those snacks for her, why should she be sneaky about it? Also Susan’s not going to lie: she doesn’t miss cooking whatsoever. Living the high life now.

“I can walk out of the room,” she says, like she’d leave the snacks.

Well, Jared guesses she could take the snacks with her. Or get more snacks. Dad would oblige, he’s sure, especially if she told him it was to mess with Jared.

They are a team. Especially when teamwork involves annoying their children.

Jared chews on ‘seeing him happy after he hasn’t been is like being repeatedly punched in the throat, but like, in a mostly good way, but also bad, you know?’. It’s too embarrassing to say.

You two are so gross. I love you.

Jared goes up to his old room, flips through a few pages of the old Flames calendar so he can grin at Bryce’s goofy game face.

GROSS. (ilu)

Bryce’s recitation of physio probably takes as long as physio did. Jared doesn’t mind, though when he comes downstairs his parents seem unimpressed, probably because dinner was supposed to be at least half an hour ago.

Probably. Also because, well…

did you seriously ghost your parents for two hours to talk to Bryce? Chaz has said in the group chat when Jared takes a break. shaaaame.

That.

Stop talking to Erin immediately. Jared replies.

lol Chaz replies.

lmao Ashley adds.

we’re not bj you can’t boss us around Chaz replies.

I don’t boss him around, Jared replies, and in response four people send four varieties of laughter at him. Raf keeps it simple with the crying laughing. Everyone else’s a little more elaborate. Jared would like to note that Bryce doesn’t laugh, because Jared does not boss him around.

Okay, he absolutely bosses him around, but people aren’t supposed to know that.

If you didn’t want them to know, you probably shouldn’t have repeatedly bossed Bryce around in FRONT of them, Jared.

“Are you in the group chat?” Jared asks. “Is everyone in the group chat but me? Do they just need a designated Matheson, and one is as good as the other?”

“Babe,” Bryce mumbles. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Jared says.

Jared drove most of the way to Vancouver the previous day. Slept in a hotel. Woke up at the crack of dawn, drove the rest of the way. Got home. Stomped around. Huffed when it didn't wake Bryce. Sat on the end of the bed and stared until Bryce woke up. Loudly asked him if he was in the group chat. Then unironically said he wasn’t stopping Bryce from sleeping.

Jared looks away. “Whatever, it’s late. I’ve been up for hours. And I’ve been away for days, I thought you might be happy to see me. No ‘welcome home, babe’?”

It’s eight in the morning. Bryce went to bed past two after accidentally binging a show Jared would complain about incessantly about if forced to watch with him. Why are you doing this to him.

“The groupchat they’re in with Erin is for making fun of us,” Bryce says. “That’s what Ash said. So yeah, no.”

“What,” Jared says.

“Like, if we’re being mushy or something,” Bryce says. “They complain to each other.”

It’s less complaining and more commiserating. The group came together at Bryce and Jared’s wedding, when after the parents went to bed, and Bryce and Jared left (to fuck, which everyone decided to collectively ignore except Chaz ‘wolf whistle’ Rossi), they swapped ‘my poor eyes had to witness _____’ in which every example was mushy as fuck.

They made the group chat so they could keep each other updated with stuff like ‘Bryce has been gazing at Jared for five minutes straight, I don’t think he’s blinked once’ and, you know, ‘My mom just texted me to say Jared’s been on the phone with Bryce for two hours. They were supposed to eat half an hour ago’.

“Rude,” Jared says. “We’re not mushy.”

“J,” Bryce says.

Bryce will not let Jared live a lie.

“You don’t have a group chat with Erin, right?” Jared says.

“Um,” Bryce says. “Is two people a group chat?”

“No, that’s just texting,” Jared says.

Oh good because no fucking way is Bryce going to stop talking to Erin. That’s his sister.

“Then no,” Bryce says. “This is like Chaz and Raf knowing each other outside of you all over again, isn’t it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jared says.

“Okay,” Bryce says, then wanders to the bathroom, stopping to kiss the top of Jared’s head on the way.

Wearing a soppy look the whole time.

“But seriously,” Jared says.

“I can’t hear you over the water,” Bryce yells. He doesn’t need to yell: they’ve got some fancy gentle rain shower shit, it’s not exactly loud.

Jared. Let the poor sleepy man shower.

“Nothing,” Jared says, and thumbs open a reply from his mom.

No I will not tell Erin to get her own friends.

You are absolutely ridiculous.

Man tattled to MOM.

“Useless,” Jared mutters.

“What?” Bryce yells.

“Nothing!” Jared says.

Bryce opens the shower door. “Are you muttering mean shit?”

“No,” Jared says, then, when Bryce looks doubtful, “Not about you.”

You were using your muttering mean shit voice, you think he doesn’t recognise that at this point? Even over the water?

[mstrickster]

Ok so prompt ideas, is that still a thing? If so here is one I've been wanting to use but got stuck on for adam x charlie:

"Can you please stop getting body checked! It's really stressing me out!"

"Ok, well if YOU don't like it..." (maybe a little eye roll here?)

Ok I love this. My mind is already buzzing. Hope you like it.

Adam’s head was spinning. He was dragging himself back to the bench after a vicious check from the Shark’s defenseman. Adam seemed to be his favorite target during this game. This was the third or fourth check he had dealt Adam. 

“Bring it in Banks,” Orion directs, “I have half a mind to bench you for the rest of the game.” 

“You can’t do that!” Adam argues, “This is the last game before the playoffs!” 

“Calm down,” Orion says, “I am keeping you out for a bit so you can clear your head.” 

“Thanks, Coach,” Adam says, relieved.

“Maybe if you’re on the bench for long enough Rodgers will lose interest,” Averman teases. 

“Yeah I don’t know what it is about you Banskie but you sure draw the rough treatment,” Russ adds. 

“You act like I encourage it,” Adam groans. 

“Yeah, it must be tough to be the star player,” Averman jokes.

“Averman is quite bugging Banks and get on the ice!” Orion shouted. 

“Yes sir, Orion sir!” Averman shouts and hurries off the bench, passing Charlie on his way out. 

Charlie takes the seat that Averman gave up and turns to his boyfriend. 

“What?” Adam asks, annoyed. 

“Would you please stop getting body checked,” Charlie answers, “It’s stressing me out.” 

“It stresses you out?!” Adam rolls his eyes, “Well I’m sorry YOU don’t like it.” 

Charlie shakes his head, “Yes it stresses me out; seeing my boyfriend hurt is not on my list of things I enjoy.”

“Well being hurt isn’t on mine,” Adam huffs. 

“Are you feeling ok to keep playing?” Charlie asks, concerned, “That last check sent you flying.” 

“I’m fine, Charlie,” Adam retorts, “You guys act like I’m fragile.” 

“You aren’t fragile,” Charlie agrees, “But you are accident-prone.” 

“I’m not even that,” Adam counters, “Some people are just sore losers.” 

Charlie snorts, “That’s what happens when you’re too good.” 

“I practice,” Adam replies, “The rest of you should try it.” 

“Excuse you I am the Captain,” Charlie argues halfheartedly, “You don’t get that title from being bad at hockey.” 

“You also don’t get it by being humble either apparently,” Adam jokes. 

Charlie laughs and slugs his arm around Adam. 

“You are humble enough for both of us, babe.” Charlie teases. 

“Clearly, it is not enough,” Adam retorts, “Looks like Rodgers might have found a new target.” 

Charlie turns to look towards the ice where Portman was skating circles around Rodgers. All while taunting him and calling him names. 

“Good,” Charlie replies, “He needs to pick on someone his own size.” 

“I don’t think it will last once Orion lets me back on the ice,” Adam observes. 

“I guess I’ll have to play Barrier then,” Charlie quips. 

“You will do no such thing,” Adam deadpans, “Orion already warned you about that.” 

“Fine, I’ll let you get pummelled,” Charlie smirks, “I can practice my despair when he knocks you unconscious.” 

“Please, you would cry if I got knocked out cold,” Adam retorts, “Connie said you almost had a breakdown when I was tripped by number 16.” 

“His skate could have sliced your leg!” Charlie reasons.

“And yet it didn’t,” Adam counters, “I have been playing hockey for years, I can take the hits.” 

“I know I just wish the hits weren’t so brutal,” Charlie confesses. 

“That’s hockey for you,” Adam reminds him, “Are you gonna let me go back out when Orion says.” 

“I suppose so,” Charlie sighs dramatically, “I will just have to watch my love suffer.” 

“You’re a dork,” Adam shook his head with a fond smile. 

“Your dork,” Charlie replied cheekily, “You wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Adam rolls his eyes, “Maybe, I guess if I can’t have Gretzsky, I can settle for you.” 

“You have questionable taste in men,” Charlie taunts. 

“I know, I’m dating you.” Adam retorts. 

Charlie laughs and leans their heads together. 

“Banks, Conway!” Orion shouts, “Change it up.” 

“Come on Banksie,” Charlie stands and offers Adam his hand, “Let’s win this.” 

Adam grins and takes Charlie's hand following him back onto the ice.

[apomaro-mellow]

Werewolf Steve x Vampire Eddie

Part 1/?

Steve watched as Eddie back up with that tell-tale look on his face.

“Munson don’t you do it. Don’t you run away from me.” Steve advanced, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Eddie, the bastard, just grinned and transformed right then and there, his wings taking him up into the sky and away from this conversation.

“Dammit!”, Steve hissed, annoyed.

“Yep, saw that comin’“, Dustin had the audacity to comment from the sidelines. 

Steve rounded on him. “This is all your fault Henderson.”

“My fault?”

Yes. His fault. Because Eddie Munson never would’ve strolled into Steve’s life had he not met him on that fateful night. 

The full moon resonated with Steve and he had been running around with Robin and Jonathan when he heard Dustin’s stray howl. When Steve didn’t hear the answering call of any of their pack, he parted from his two friends to see what was up, howling a reply himself.

It was odd for Dustin to be alone. But it turned out he wasn’t. Because apparently, in his abundance of time, Dustin not only made friends with a vampire but the most insufferable one in all of existence. Steve didn’t realize this at first though. He only saw a vampire advancing on a cub and simply reacted. 

So what if he bit Dustin’s new friend? Eddie deserved it. Retroactively. By pulling moves like this.

“I invite him to dinner and somehow I’m the asshole?”, Steve frowned.

Dustin shrugged. “Eddie said he doesn’t do pack stuff.”

“He’s taking the loner thing too seriously.”

They returned back home and Dustin reported Steve’s failure at inviting Eddie.

“Can’t blame the guy”, Robin said. “Vamps aren’t the most social bunch. Pass the potatoes.”

“Also, the first glimpse of ‘pack stuff’ he saw was a grooming”, Max said as she handed the bowl over. “I think that’d turn most folks away.”

“But he has a whole club of vampires he hangs out with”, Steve argued.

“There’s nothing wrong with hygiene”, Joyce piped up. “As for this friend of Dustin’s, we need to let him acclimate at his own pace.”

“He’s one blood sucker going into a den of wolves”, Hopper said. “He’s right to be cautious.”

Cautious. Right. So far, whenever Eddie hung out with Dustin or any member of their pack, it was on neutral ground. For some reason, Steve took personal offense to the fact Munson didn’t want to come over.

------------

A few nights later, when Dustin reported as much when he and Eddie went to the arcade, Eddie pushed away from the air hockey table and began to pace around.

“I knew it. I just knew it.”

“Knew what?”, Dustin moved away from the table too while Mike and Erica moved in to continue the game like nothing happened.

“This is how they get ya”, Eddie pointed at Dustin. “They lure you in with a cute kid. Or a dog. Or both. And then all of a sudden you’re meeting the family, and picking out wedding invitations and before you know it I’m choppin’ the locks and we’re all...Leave it to Beaver bullshit!”

“Uhh, did Steve ask you out and I missed it?”, Erica asked, definitely not missing a beat as she scored on Mike.

“I am also confused”, Dustin said. “Because I was under the impression that you and Steve were at the ‘begrudgingly tolerant’ stage. Are you trying to say-wait, what are you trying to say?”

Erica’s brow raised. “Are you into Steve?”

Mike whipped around, giving Erica a free point. “Eddie what the hell? Steve? Harrington? Steve Harrington?”

“Over my dead body”, Eddie said. “Over my dead body I’m falling for that...that...”

“Watch it”, Dustin warned.

“That hairball.”

“That’s fair”, Dustin shrugged.

“I mean it would explain why you always lose whatever shred of cool you have around him”, Erica said matter-of-factly. “And why you always got full-bat when you’ve exhausted that cool. And why you’re always talkin’ about the way he smells-”

“Cause he smells like wet dog! And...something else.”

“Oh my god.” Mike was going through a crisis. “Oh my god!”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “Stop saying that like you’re having a revelation Wheeler.”

“Eddie. Serious question.” Dustin put his hands together. “Do you have a crush on Steve?”

Eddie would’ve brandished his fangs but that stopped working on these kids months ago.

----------------------

“How come you never ask Robin to do this?”, Steve asked.

“I love her to death, but she’s not going anywhere near my plants”, Nancy said as she knelt down.

Steve was watering a bunch of things he didn’t know the names of. Nancy was picking like she knew all their secrets. The full moon was coming up. She must have a spell planned.

“Full moon will be soon”, Nancy said, rather randomly.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re going to do some running?”

“Yeah. Robin will be out too.” Which she should know, the two had been dating for about a year. So why was Nancy asking?

“Steve, what are you and Eddie doing?”

Trust Nancy to cut through the bullshit.

“We are not doing anything. He’s fine with just being friends with Dustin, and the other kids, and just hanging out in town, and that’s fine, and that’s it. That’s it, Nance.”

“Hmm. Well Mike said-”

“I mean how could he not just come to dinner, huh? Like I get that he knows Will and Dustin but Max doesn’t play DnD and call me crazy but I think he and Robin would hit it off and if he’s...masquerading as some kinda mentor for Dustin then he should get to know his family.”

“You’re right”, Nancy said, standing with the basket of her harvest. “He should get to know the family.”

[wildrangers]

Warrior // Ryan Lindgren

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: The New York Rangers are going to the Eastern Conference Finals. That's something to celebrate, right?

Warnings: Cursing, angst (resolved at the end)

continue here

You could hear people saying your name but couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. There was your boyfriend, Ryan, laying prone on the ice. Someone grabbing your hand brought you back to yourself and you blinked, looking over at Tate who was watching you with concern.

“He’s getting up, he’s going to be okay, alright?” she said, squeezing your hand. On your other side, you felt Fran rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. You nodded at her comment before returning your gaze to the screen. Ryan had gotten up at this point and was being helped off of the ice—he wasn’t putting any weight on his already injured foot, but he was skating, at least.

“I can’t decide if it’ll be worse if he comes back or is out for the rest of the game” you sighed. Ryan had been injured since the first playoff game and he wasn’t exactly at 100% before that had happened.

“I already texted Gabe, he’s going to update us as soon as he can, okay?” Fran said placing her phone in her lap. Gabe was the trainer working closest with Ryan throughout the playoffs so you were grateful he’d flown to North Carolina with the team. “Thanks Fran, I really appreciate it. Playoffs are stressful enough without feeling panicky every time he takes a hit” you said and the girls squeezed you again.

“I know, hun, but he’s going to be okay. He’s as tough as they come” Fran said before the two girls returned to watching the game. You knew she meant it to be comforting, but you felt that familiar rage simmering below the surface. You understood this was his career and that it’s playoffs. But you were also the one fighting with him to just rest on his days off, the one watching him wince in pain every time he took a step around your shared apartment despite the team’s doctors telling him to stay off of it as much as possible.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and returned your attention to the game, hoping to distract yourself. But, as you saw a familiar face flash across the screen, you felt both your shoulders sag in relief and your anger bubble a little closer to the surface.

“Look! He’s okay, he’s back” Tate smiled, squeezing your hand once more. “Being back and okay aren’t the same thing” you said and immediately regretted the annoyed tone in your voice. “I’m sorry Tate, it’s just so frustrating to watch him play like this” you explained but she shrugged off the apology.

“It’s okay, we get it, right Fran?” Tate said as Fran nodded in agreement. “I know, that’s why you’re the best” you said smiling at them, shoving that fury down so it wouldn’t explode on two of your best friends. You missed the two girls exchanging a worried, knowing glance as you all focused on the TV again.

Tate was your co-worker and had introduced you to Ryan a little over a year ago. You were endlessly grateful that she had because Ryan was fierce and strong but also thoughtful and kind. He always said what was on his mind and didn’t shy away when you did the same. Which usually was every chance you got but you had never navigated playoff hockey with a professional athlete before, let alone an injured one. Fran and Chris had been together last time the Rangers went to the playoffs while Tate and Adam were high school sweethearts—this may be their first NHL playoffs as a couple but they had stuck together every other step of the way. Their history made this so much easier than it was for you. Or, at least that’s what you told yourself as you moped through the rest of the second period and most of the third.

“Holy shit, they’re going to do it” Tate squealed as they reclaimed their four-goal lead yet again. With less than 2 minutes left, you wanted to agree but also didn’t want to somehow jinx it. But she was right—they were really going to fucking do this. As the clock wound down, you felt your growing excitement and you all cheered as the buzzer sounded. You were able to stay in this good mood for the next hour as you all celebrated together. Close to midnight, you walked them out of your apartment with plans to meet up for dinner before the game in two days.

As you locked the door behind you, you heard your phone chirp from the living room. You went over and smiled as you read Ryan’s text: I can’t wait to celebrate with you tomorrow, get a good night’s sleep babe. We’re taking off now, love you

You sent back a quick note before getting ready for bed. You’d decided to surprise Ryan by taking the next few days off—either to comfort him or, in this case, to celebrate and spend time together while you could. As you scrolled through your Twitter feed, you found yourself clicking on the NYR Eastern Conference announcement. You normally avoided looking at comments but this was good news, so you didn’t expect to see anything negative. And what you saw wasn’t bad, necessarily, but you felt your temper flare anyway.

NYR55FAN: Way to go boys! Happy to see Lindgren back on the ice, the dude could lose a limb and he’d finish the game

The comment was hilarious, true, and already had over 100 likes. But it made you think of every time you offered to give Ryan’s ankle a massage or help him do the stretches Gabe had prescribed, only for him to insist he had a project or chore he had to get done. And just like that, you were furious at him for not listening to his trainers and making you see him in so much pain, some of which could be avoided if he would just set aside his pride and let you help him.

You shook your head as you closed your phone, hoping to sleep off the anger and frustration. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning as more and more memories of Ryan in pain flashed across your mind. You heard the front door click open a few hours later and you shot up in bed before realizing it was already after 2AM and it was Ryan, not a burglar, at the front door.

As you made your way down the hallway, you heard him cursing under his breath. You peaked around the corner and found him sitting on the arm of the couch, struggling to take his shoe off his bad foot. You watched in horror as he removed his sock revealing his bruised, swollen ankle. You took in a sharp breath and his head whipped around to face you. You saw confusion cross his face before he checked his phone, “Y/N, it’s almost 2:30 why are you still up?” he asked.

You walked closer replying, “I took off the next few days but please tell me your ankle didn’t look like that before you went back onto the ice earlier.” His eyes quickly moved away from yours and you knew the answer; of course, it had.

“You’re such a stubborn idiot” you muttered under your breath running your hands over your face in frustration. Unfortunately for Ryan, he mistook your statement for sarcasm so he replied, “What’s a sprained ankle when we’re halfway to the Cup.” When only silence met him, he turned to you, seeing your face growing redder and your fists clenched at your sides.

“Ryan, this isn’t funny. You’re injured and just keep getting more injured and insisting on playing through it. You're really going to hurt yourself!" you yelled at him, unable to stop yourself. He scoffed at you, “You’re kidding right? It’s play-"

“It’s playoffs, yes, I know, but contrary to what you want to believe you’re still a fucking human, Ryan, not some indestructible warrior” you spat, instantly regretting your word choice as you saw hurt flash across his face.

“When have I ever said I’m indestructible? This is what comes with playing hockey professionally, Y/N! Why are you picking a fight over this at 2:30 in the fucking morning?!” he yelled.

“I’m not picking a fight; I’m trying to get some fucking sense through that thick skull of yours!” you yelled, walking closer to him.

“Oh, so I’m stupid now too, huh? Thanks for the warm welcome back!” he screamed, shooting to his feet. His face immediately scrunched up in pain and you ran to his side, helping him sit back down on the couch despite him trying to do it on his own. Once he was settled you walked into the kitchen to get some ice for him. As you wrapped it in a towel, you found yourself holding back tears. You couldn’t believe you’d thrown him being called a warrior back in his face like that; you knew how hard he was fighting, how much that moniker meant to him. And you’d used it as an insult which made you feel like the shittiest girlfriend ever. That feeling faded quickly as you re-entered the living room only to find Ryan limping down the hallway.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me Ry!” you shouted as tears streamed down your face. He ignored you, going into your shared room and slamming the door behind him. You quickly followed behind, finding him sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed in obvious pain.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N, I know I shouldn’t have walked by myself down here but I’m not a total invalid, you know” he sniped at you. When you didn’t answer, he looked up to find you holding his ice and shaking with sobs. “Baby?” he questioned and went to get up before you shot across the room and shoved him back down.

“Would you just stop doing shit to hurt yourself more, Ryan?!” you shouted through your tears, sitting on the floor in front of him. “I know how much this injury sucks for you and how much pain you’re in but have you stopped to think what it’s like for me to watch you go through this? To see you pushing yourself at home when you’re already doing too much on the ice? To have to watch you every game, waiting for you to take another bad hit?”

He hadn’t, actually, thought about that and he was kicking himself for it now. He was so focused on staying active, working through his injury, and playing games he hadn’t considered what it would be like for you to watch him do it. He immediately thought about the panic he’d felt when you’d returned home with a sprained, bandaged wrist after a workout class. He had worried and fussed, driving you nuts, but you had let him because you knew it made him feel better. He’d never stopped to think how you may have those same fears for him now, made even worse because of his job.

He reached his hand out to you and you took it in your own looking up at him through teary eyes. “I really didn’t mean to pick a fight but seeing you on the ice like that again was so fucking scary, Ryan” you said, lips wobbling as you fought back tears.

“Come sit with me baby, okay? Let’s just talk this through” he said and you nodded. Rather than sit beside him, you pulled over a spare chair, lifted his injured foot onto your lap and held the ice to the worst of his bruises. His heart warmed at the gesture—this was why he loved you. Because despite your anger and this stupid fight, you were still taking care of him.

“I’m not going to lie, Y/N, you’re right. I was so focused on the Cup and my ankle that I never imagined what it would be like for you, which was really fucking selfish of me. I’m sorry” he said.

You shook your head replying, “You’re allowed to be selfish right now, Ry, I know how much this means to you. I’ve just never done this before. All the other girls at least went through some type of playoff situation with their guys before, I haven’t. I didn’t know how to share my concerns without making you feel bad or frustrated with me for not sucking it up.”

“Babe, you don’t have to suck it up. I do because it’s my job but you don’t. You never do with me, you know that, right? You can always speak your mind” he explained. You knew he meant it so you nodded your head. You stood up, gently placing his foot on the chair, before settling onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle with your head tucked under his chin. You sat like that for a moment, just enjoying being together again after a tense few days apart.

“I do take it back though, Ry, you’re my fucking warrior. I just wished you’d let me carry some of your burden. I get you have to put on a brave face with the guys and on the ice but not here, not in our home. You’re not fooling me anyway” you said gently, making him smile and kiss the top of your head.

“I knew you didn’t mean it. I am pretty bad ass after all” he quipped causing you to lightly punch his chest as you lifted your head up to glare at him. “There she is” he smiled down at you before giving you a gentle kiss. As you pulled away, you caught his face in your hands.

“You have to promise me one thing, okay?” you said looking into his deep blue eyes. He nodded as he nuzzled his head into your hands. “Please listen to Gabe about the at-home restrictions. Just rest and stretch and let me take care of everything else. You have to save your energy for game nights. Can you do that for me?” you asked nervously biting your lip.

“I swear it” he replied, looping his pinky with your own causing you to giggle. “I’m sorry for being a stubborn idiot” he said, repeating your words back to you making you laugh harder.

“It’s okay, I should know by now that that’s just who you are” you teased causing him to fake offense. “Now, let’s get to bed, yeah?”

“Yes, please, I’m exhausted” he sighed, allowing you to help him stand. You quickly removed his suit before helping him into the comfy shorts you’d left laying out for him. Once he was settled laying down, you swapped his ice for his heat wrap, carefully wrapping his ankle just so before getting into bed with him. You felt yourself relax fully as you rested your head on his chest, his fingers running soothingly through your hair.

“Ry?” you mumbled, feeling sleep creep closer and he hummed in response. “I’m really fucking proud of you for making it to the Conference finals.”

You felt him smile and place a quick kiss to your head, expressing his thanks. “I have an idea for how you can congratulate me in the morning” he said causing you to roll your eyes at him. “We’ll see hot shot, we’ll see” you chuckled before finally drifting off to sleep.

A/N: In honor of the Rangers making it to the Eastern Conference Finals!! This post-season has made me love Lindgren even more, so this was fun to write. Debating writing more parts as the playoff's continue--would y'all read it? Any feedback welcome :)

[blueskrugs]

length: 1.9k words

full fic

december

Tyson usually dreads January. It’s a long, cold, and dark month. The grind of the season feels like it’s at its…grindiest. The game days and travel days start to run into each other and turn into one exhausting, never-ending blur. Someone’s always getting sick, or injured, 

He’s perfectly happy to throw himself back into hockey when the new year finally rolls around after so many weeks without it, but he hates how quiet his apartment is without Kacey hanging around, being annoying. He leaves his Christmas decorations up, anything to make his apartment feel lived-in.

Tyson lasts until the team gets back from Chicago on the fifth before he calls Madison again. She doesn’t answer. Tyson stares at his phone after it goes through to voicemail, bewildered. That is, until Madison texts him back and reminds him that she has a “normal job with normal hours.” Right.

Madison calls Tyson back on her way home from work. His groggy, mumbled “‘ello?” makes Madison smile when he answers, voice tinny over her car’s speakers.

“Did I wake you?” she teases. 

Tyson scoffs, but says, “...yeah. Sorry for calling you earlier,” he adds. “I’d just gotten home and wasn’t thinking.” “You can’t just call at 10:30 in the morning on a Wednesday, Tyson,” she admonishes. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I was just—” missing you. Tyson dismisses that thought. Too earnest. “I was just bored,” he finishes. Not much better, actually. 

Madison’s quiet for a while, focused on driving. She realizes she should figure out where she’s actually headed. “Were you calling for any particular reason earlier?” she asks. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“I could never forget you,” Tyson says quickly. “I just wanted to see you,” he admits after another moment. 

Madison turns on her blinker at a red light. She should be turning left, towards her apartment. She turns right, towards Tyson’s place. “Did you want me to come over,” she asks, wanting to hear Tyson say it.

“I mean, obviously, yeah. I can make us dinner.”

Madison laughs. “Oh, sure, you’re gonna make me some toaster waffles, huh?” She had seen the Instagram stories. “You really know how to woo a girl, Tys.”

She can practically feel Tyson’s playful outrage on the other end of the phone. He sputters for a minute before saying, “Okay, I can order us dinner.” 

Madison’s almost to Tyson’s apartment building. She hates that she already knows how to get there so easily. “Are you going to get your ass out of bed and meet me downstairs?” There’s the sound of something hitting the floor, like Tyson actually rolled out of bed.

“I’ll be right there!” Tyson says, before hanging up. The radio cuts back in, music playing softly to fill in the abrupt silence of the call ending. Madison parks and turns her car off, sitting in silence for a minute. She wonders just what the hell she’s doing, what she’s getting herself into. 

Tyson sprawls onto his couch and pulls Madison into his lap almost immediately after they’re both through the door. Madison rolls her eyes, but she goes willingly. Tyson’s perfectly content to just make out for a while, all sense of urgency gone as soon as he gets his hands on Madison. He’s not sure how long they’re there before he realizes something and pulls away.

“Have you ever been to an Avs game?” he asks.

“What?” Madison lost her shirt at some point, and Tyson’s thumb has been fiddling with one of her bra straps for the last several moments. She’s admittedly a little distracted. She processes what Tyson said. “Tyson, are you seriously thinking about hockey right now?” She tries to roll off his lap, but he digs his hands into her thighs and refuses to let her move.

“I’m always thinking about hockey, a little bit,” he defends. Madison rolls her eyes at him again. What Tyson had really been thinking about was introducing Madison to JT, then he’d remembered that she said she didn’t watch much hockey, and somehow that’s what had come out of his mouth. Madison still looks a little bit like she wants to smack him. “I told my best friend about you,” is what he ends up saying next. “He’s actually the one who pointed you out to me at the bar that night, and he wants to meet you for real.” JT had actually said that, in between chirps about Tyson’s hooking up habits. Some of the other guys had picked it up, too, but Tyson wasn’t ready to subject Madison to them yet. Except maybe, like, Cale. And maybe after a game at the arena wasn’t the best place to introduce Madison to his friends, but Tyson could get tickets for Madison and a friend, ask Mel to introduce herself or something, and then meet Madison after with JT. 

Tyson realizes Madison hasn’t answered him. She’s still in his lap, but she’s tense. Tyson squeezes her thighs again. 

“You don’t have to, obviously,” he says softly. “I dunno, I just thought you might want to meet the guys.”

Madison relaxes a little. “You really want that?” she asks. 

Tyson can’t help but grin at her. He kisses her again, slowly. “I do.”

Later, when they’re sitting at Tyson’s little table eating dinner—that Tyson did actually cook, thank you very much—Madison knocks her ankle into Tyson’s. Tyson swallows his mouthful of food and traps her foot in between both of his. Madison had gotten re-dressed in one of Tyson’s sweatshirts, and Tyson’s doing his best to feel normal about it. 

“So, did you have a day in mind for me to come to a game, or had you not thought that far ahead?” Madison asks. 

Tyson tries to run through their upcoming schedule in his head. “Uh?” They’re home for a lot of January. “Next Friday, maybe? The…14th?” He can’t remember who they’re playing, but that’s not really important. Tyson squints over at the printout of their schedule he keeps on his fridge. “We wouldn’t be able to hang around because we fly out that night, I think.”

Madison looks faintly overwhelmed suddenly. It might be for the best that the guys will only be able to say hi briefly, actually. “Sure? Whatever you want, Tyson.”

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Tyson reminds her. He feels a bit as if he’s thrown her off the deep end, even though she’s the one who pushed Tyson to tell JT in the first place. 

Madison shakes her head. “No, it’s okay, I just didn’t really expect it.” 

Tyson pulls a face. “Maybe I’m tired of keeping you a secret.” He doesn’t know what he was trying so hard to protect, now. 

Madison stares at him for a long moment, face unreadable. Tyson stares back. Finally, Madison drops her fork with a clatter and leans across the table to kiss Tyson. The fierceness of the kiss surprises him, Madison’s lips hard against his, her hand sliding around the back of his neck. Tyson cups her cheek and tries to soften the kiss, but Madison pulls away just as quickly as she’d kissed him. 

Tyson blinks at her, bemused. He’s not sure what just happened. It feels significant somehow, something unspoken changing between them. Tyson turns back to his dinner.

Madison sees Tyson a few more times over the next week and a half before the game. Tyson acts the same, but Madison feels like she’s on edge, counting down the hours until Friday. Tyson doesn’t seem to notice.

“What the hell am I supposed to wear to a hockey game?” Madison complains over the phone to her older sister, Emma, who she’d asked to come with her on Friday. Emma just laughs at her. Madison’s seen what WAGs wear to games—cute outfits with leather pants and heels. Madison doesn’t own that type of shit, and she’s not really a WAG, besides. She doesn’t own a jersey, either, and it would probably be weird to wear a jersey that’s not Tyson’s anyway. Madison’s pixie pants from Old Navy and sensible work shoes aren’t going to cut it.

“What were you wearing when you met Tyson?” Emma asks, as if she doesn’t know they met in a bar.

Madison snorts. “Nothing that’s appropriate for a hockey game.” Madison regards the handful of sweaters she’s pulled from her closet. One of them is close enough to Avalanche burgundy, maybe. Somewhere in her dirty laundry is one of Tyson’s sweatshirts. Madison’s not bold enough to wear it.

Game day is overwhelming, to say the least. Tyson had gotten them good seats, but Madison’s not used to being around so many people, and it’s noisy all around her. It’s easier to follow the pace of the game in person than on TV, she learns, and her eyes follow Tyson whenever he’s on the ice.

Tyson scores a goal late in the first period, and Madison’s probably the one who cheers the loudest for him. 

Madison waits outside the arena for Tyson after the game. Her sister’s waiting in the car, telling Madison it was too cold to stand around. She watches some of the other players make their way past her and onto a waiting bus. It’s cold, and she hates Tyson briefly. It’s only another few minutes until Tyson appears, closely followed by someone. They’re arguing, but Tyson breaks off as soon as he sees Madison waiting for him.

Tyson forgets himself for a moment. He runs over to Madison and wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up and spinning her once. Madison laughs at him. He ignores JT snickering behind him in favor of leaning down and kissing Madison quickly. 

Madison’s blushing when he pulls away, but it might just be from the cold. 

“Nice goal tonight, babe,” Madison tells him. Tyson just shrugs. 

Behind them, JT clears his throat. Tyson kinda forgot about that part. He drapes an arm around JT’s shoulders and drags him closer. “This asshole is JT,” he tells Madison. “He’s one of my best friends.” To JT, he says, “This is Madison, be nice.”

JT scoffs. “I’m always nice.” He grins at Madison. “I’m also the reason Tyson went up to you at the bar, so I guess you could thank me for whatever’s going on here.” Tyson smacks him. 

“You can get on the bus now, actually,” Tyson says. JT’s laughing again as Tyson tries to elbow him out of the way. Madison’s smiling, too, though, amused by their antics. 

JT does leave, then, and Madison and Tyson are alone. Or, as alone as you can be with half of Tyson’s teammates watching them through the bus windows. Tyson steps closer to Madison.

“Thanks for tonight,” she says. Tyson barely did anything, but he’s not going to say that now. Tyson should really get on the bus, but he can’t tear himself away. Madison’s hand finds his, tangling their fingers together and squeezing once before letting go again. “Text me when you get to the hotel, yeah?”

Tyson has to kiss her again. “I will, I promise.” He really needs to go. One last kiss, pressed to Madison’s cheek this time, then Tyson forces himself to step away.

Madison’s gone when he turns around as he steps on the bus. Tyson shakes himself and goes to find JT, flopping into the seat left open for him. 

“You’re in deep, bud,” JT says. Tyson glares at him. 

“God, I know.”

february

[drewsbuzzcut]

Nick seeing Dallas talking to another guy and gets jealous.

Yours To Lose

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: jealousy if that’s even a warning

Nick spots Dallas the second she walks through the door of the frat house. His eyes are just automatically drawn to the girl. He hasn’t seen her this whole week, both of them busy with school, or in his case, school and hockey. Texting can only get you so far, so Nick feels mildly disappointed when he sees her for the first time in a while at a party. He much rather be on a date with her right now.

After getting roped into another quick conversation with the guys, he finally gets a chance to look for Dallas, finding her laughing at something some guy was saying. At first Nick tries not to think too much about it, but when he sees her cheeks running red from all the laughing, he can’t help but feel worried. They’re not even boyfriend or girlfriend, yet he feels that green monster resting on his shoulder, whispering in his ear.

He parts ways with his teammates, making his way towards the girl only to hear her talking so animatedly about her dreams of becoming a clothing designer while the guy she’s talking to looks the least bit interested.

“Hey, June,” he comes up behind her, a hand landing on her waist and an arm wrapping around the top of her chest in a hug to bring her closer to his body. He can feel her body melt into his when she realizes it’s him who’s behind her.

“Nicky!” Dallas beams, turning in his hold to wrap her arms around his waist.

Nick doesn’t wrap his arms around her, causing a frown to form on her face. She notices his eyes glued to the random boy behind her.

“I didn’t know you knew Moldenhauer, June,” the guy says.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call her that.”

Dallas and Nick say at the same time. The girl looks at Nick, wondering what the hell is going on with him. She pats his chest, turning around to talk to the other guy.

“Yeah, moldy and I are dating,” she informs the guy, watching his smug smirk falter.

“You’re dating him?” The guy asks, voice laced with something similar to distaste.

She frowns, daring the guy to say something else so she can lay into him, maybe with a fist. Preferably with a fist.

“What’s it to you?” Nick asks, voice laced with annoyance.

“Nothing, I just think it’s interesting,” the other boy clearly enjoys making Nick annoyed.

“It was nice talking to you, but we’re gonna go. He owes me kisses,” Dallas states with a fake smile.

Nick walks away before she can even finish her sentence which is even more off putting for Dallas.

The girl trails behind him, feeling lucky that he chose to halt his trail in a quiet space.

“Nick, what was that back there?”

Silence.

“Nick,” she says, pulling on his arm to turn him towards her.

“What?” He isn’t even looking at her.

“What’s going on with you? Why are you so moody?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. C’mon, please don’t shut me out,” she gets closer to him, her hands holding onto his.

“I said I’m fine,” he mutters, still not looking at her.

And people think she’s the stubborn one.

“Nicky, you’re not fine,” she says, looping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck.

“That guy was all over you,” he finally opens up.

“He wasn’t all over me. We were just talking,” Dallas explains.

“He wanted to get with you, so it’s all the same. I haven’t seen you all week, so when I do see you, you’re talking to some guy who’s trying to get in your pants. I thought you were swamped with homework anyways,” he blurts out, growing frustrated.

“Calm down. I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to see each other all week. I actually came to this party to see you because I ended up finishing my homework quicker than I thought. I was on my way to find you when that guy started talking to me and I kinda got sidetracked. Even if he was trying to get in my pants, I’m only here to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Yes ‘oh.’ Can you please hug me, or kiss me now. I feel neglected,” she whines, eye sparkling even if her teasing smile falters when she notices that he’s still bothered.

“I’m sorry I was jealous, sweet girl. I just- I’m so connected to you. You’re not even my girlfriend yet and I don’t ever want to be without you by my side. I’m just rambling and I probably sound creepy,” Nick rants, fingers carding through his hair.

“Stop. Stop, you don’t sound creepy. I can't be without you either, which is why this week was so hard, but I’m here now and you still haven’t kissed me.”

She might die if she has to wait any longer.

He pulls her into him, hands resting on her back and hers on his cheeks. Their lips connect in a soft kiss. It’s perfect as if they’re meant to be locked. She pulls on his hair, pulling a soft moan from his throat and it has his mouth opening just in time for her tongue to tangle with his. His hand moves to rest around her throat, softly tilting her head back to attack her neck.

“Nicky,” she whimpers.

“You’re beautiful, June bug,” he says into her skin, making her breakout in a wide smile.

Dallas thinks she could just about melt into the floor, or start doing flips at the sound of his sweet words.

“Spend the rest of the night with me, maybe make me your girlfriend,” Dallas teases, pulling him by his hand as they make their way out of the frat house.

“I think I can make that happen,” he responds, pulling on her so that her back is to his chest as they walk together.

a/n: If you requested this, I hope you enjoy it- as well as the rest of you!!

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | 𝘯𝘩13 ♔

➯ summary: after their loss to the lightning, nico can’t help but blame it on himself, spilling out his feelings in post-game. he was disappointed, embarrassed, pissed, with himself, with his team, with everybody, except for her. and she is the only one who can help

➯ warnings: sad nico, people being mean, lindy, nico having negative thoughts, nico being mean to himself

➯ published: january 27, 2024

➯ notes: surprise post! i had too. he looks so sad and i'm just gonna go and cry... game show network is the greatest thing to ever watch in a hotel room so i used it (and because it was the only thing i could think of what the hotel usually has) add yourself to the taglist ➵ taglist!

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

One after the other the Lightning scored. Devils bounced back once, twice, three times but it wasn’t good enough. Would anything he did be good enough? Was he doing enough as captain? Was he pushing them as hard as he should be pushing them? Was he contributing to their loss? Was he the reason?

All those thoughts plagued Nico’s mind as he walked back through the tunnel both dejectedly and embarrassed with his team’s performance. He wasn’t sure if he was mad enough to break something, most likely his stick, or if he was embarrassed enough to hide from the crowds and the fans on the internet.

He felt disgusting, sweat beat down his forehead, and his hair was greasy and sweaty as well. He could feel how he smelled as he took off his gear and threw it into the cubby. He attempted to calm himself, taking a deep breath just as she taught him but it wasn’t working. 

He felt annoyed, frustrated, and angry as he did post-game, all these feelings were sitting up front in his mind, ready to flow out of his mouth as he answered questions. 

“Disappointing, I’m embarrassed a bit, to be honest. We got outworked, outplayed in such a big game. The way we performed is embarrassing.”

“I wish I could answer that, just not good enough. I have to calm down here and think about it. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“I hope everybody thinks about what team they want to be a part of coming down the stretch. If we want to be a playoff team, we have to figure something out.”

He finished getting change, gears reeling in his mind as he put his suit jacket back on. He was the last one out of the locker room and with it being All-Star break, he was glad he didn’t have to look at anything even remotely hockey-related for a while. 

He saw her in the distnace, pacing back and forth. It was an unusual look for her, usually, she was the calm one in the relationship. In reality, she was nervous about how to calm Nico down. From the moment the Lightning scored those two goals she knew how much Nico would be blaming himself. 

She locked eyes with him after two minutes of him just standing there staring at her, “You ready?”

He just nodded, running his hand through his hair again. She sighed and held out her arm for him which he took immediately, his hand intertwining with hers. She gave his hand a squeeze and he retaliated with one of his one, walking in silence to her car. Nico was in no state to drive so she opened the passenger door for him, allowing him to climb in. 

She took a deep breath after shutting the door and making her way to the driver's side. As she rounded the front of her car she looked at him through the front windshield, he looked disheveled. He looked sad. She hadn’t seen him look like this in a while, maybe even ever. She opened to driver’s side door and climbed in herself, turning on the radio and adjusting her mirrors as if she hadn’t been the one driving before.

She played lo-fi music on their back to her hotel, Nico already had planned to stay the night with her. The car ride was silent besides the soft beats coming from the speakers and the raindrops hitting the car. She had the air conditioning on low, it was 70 degrees in Flordia. She had taken her jacket off, handing it to Nico who held it close to his chest. 

Halfway through the drive, she glanced over at her boyfriend to see that he had now taken his suit jacket off and wrapped himself in hers. Nico’s eyes were looking everywhere but at her, not even daring to risk the chance of their eyes locking again. He knew the second they did, he would blow a fuse or start bawling his eyes out.

When they got to the hotel, y/n pulled into the closest spot possible. They sat there for a few minutes, both of them debating on what they wanted to do. She looked at her boyfriend, eyes saddened by how he looked, “You ready to go up?”

He hadn’t spoken a word since he finished post-game, not wanting to say anything he would regret later, so he just nodded. They both exited the car and walked into the hotel and to the elevators. Nico reached for her hand when they got into the elevator and it started to move up. She gave him a soft smile, tightening her hold on his hand.

They walked to her room, y/n swiping her card and opening the door wide for him. They stood in the entranceway of the room, both silent and looking around. She looked at him as she threw her keys on the counter and went to take his suit jacket out of his hands, her jacket still lying around his shoulders.

“You gonna go take a shower, baby?”

He nodded slightly, giving her all the strength he could muster right now. She sighed again and nodded, kissing him on his shoulder before rubbing his back. Before he could get far, y/n handed him the clothes that she had brought down for him. He smiled a very small, but grateful, smile at her before turning around and walking into the bathroom. 

She let him be for a few minutes, changing into her clothes before knocking on the door realizing that the shower wasn’t running yet, “Neeks?”

He let out a very soft and deep ‘hmm’ as he stopped whatever he was doing, “Is there anywhere specific you want to eat.”

He sighed, “I’m not really hungry.”

She frowned at his words, worry seeping deep into her brows, “I know, honey, but you got to eat something.”

He didn’t sound frustrated when he spoke, he knew she was right but he just wanted to go to bed, “I’m not hungry, y/n.”

She was slightly taken aback by the use of her name, he never called her that. She looked up at the ceiling, tears welling in her eyes, “Okay. I’m going to order some food just in case you want to eat later.”

He didn’t say anything after that, turning on the shower. When she heard the water running she walked away from the door and sat on the bed, toying with the edge of her pajama pants. She turned on the TV, scrolling to find anything remotely interesting to watch. 

She ordered pizza, one of the simpler things to get delivered, and one that was open this late at night. She played along with the Game Show Network, Family Feud was on right now. She looked up when she heard the bathroom door click open. Nico stepped out, his gray sweatpants hung low on his hips and his t-shirt was clutched in his hands. He walked over to the bed, looking at the TV to see what was on.

He crawled into the bed, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s hips, and laying his head in her lap. Y/n ran her hand through his now freshly washed hair. She almost cried herself when she felt her pant leg dampening from tears, “Honey…”

“It’s my fault, y/n. I can’t lead this team to the victory we need. I can’t do anything. I can’t fucking shoot. I can’t score. I can’t- I can’t-” His breathing picked up and y/n lifted his head from her lap, making him sit up so she could look at him face to face.

She cupped his cheeks and brought his face closer to hers, “Breathe, honey. It’s okay, just focus on me okay? It’s gonna pass, I promise.”

A few breaths later, his breathing regulated into its usual pattern, “I’m gonna need you to listen to me, Nico.”

He nodded his head but didn’t look into her eyes, “Look at me Neeks.”

He did, his eyes gazing into hers causing him to tear up again, “It is not your fault, you hear me? I cannot tell you how amazing you have been doing for this team. This team would not be the same without you. Remember when you got hurt back in October? They were not at their best.”

“That’s because-”

“No. It had nothing to do with Jack. Even when Jack came back they still weren’t playing well but as soon as you came back you went what? 8 and 2 in 10 games. You have done nothing but keep this team and their good spirits up. You are the core of this team, Nico. They cannot do it without you. So what people say differently. Screw what they say, hell even screw what Lindy says.

“You cannot bring yourself down because of what the team couldn’t do. Sure you can go on and on about how you could’ve helped them practice or given them advice but at the end of the day, they are in charge of their own performance. Do not let people bring you down because you are better than that.”

Nico held tears in his eyes, starting to slowly believe her. Those negative feelings that had hit him at the end of the game left his mind and he just buried his head into her chest, letting her run her hands through his hair and rub slow circles on his back. 

“I love you, and I am so so so proud of you.”

He sniffled, “Thank you. I love you too.”

She kissed his head and moved him to lie down under the covers of the bed. Nico let himself be fully encompassed in her arms with the soft noise of the TV still playing in the background.

⇘ 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙅𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙮 𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ⇙

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

@jasminecaskry85 | @lilyevanswhore | @shoesjr13 | @Exonct07 | @dancerbailey3 | @if-my-heart-bleeds | @prettyinsatiable | @hearts-4-luke | @sarawinson78 | @pucks-goals-penalties | @elegieseulogise | @crazycat-ladys-blog | @privatemythss | @5secondsofonedirection222 | @piavettel33 | @bohemianrapshawty | @mikayladavis | @klkennedy | @hockeyboysarehot | @whoopwhoop123 | @dasiysthings | @rleigh-47 | @ivy-34 | @itsnotgray | @daisysnhl | @love4ldr | @love4lando | @dyslecticdutchman | @thescooby-gang | @biscuit-muffin05 | @toasttt11 | @fratboyharrysgf0201 | @http-aatp | @biggiesmallspots | @kei943 | @Studio_reader | @ru-kru | @zebraszegras

[breakersmansh]

It was a rough week, so I’m just recovering/ stabilizing. I’m doing a great job persevering through a difficult fall and the idea that I’m sustaining a respectable performance in a grueling graduate school semester even while facing severe housing insecurity just shows how much I’ve grown, progressed, and developed as an adult.

I just dug an Excel sheet out from my inbox from 2020. It’s a database of Dave Matthews songs, concerts, and performance variations, with statistics like song length, etc. My professor helped me make it for me from DMBalmanac.com in my very first computer programming class back during that year. It all seemed so overwhelming to me at the time, and it’s wild how now it all makes so much more sense to me. I’ll be using it for my final project in a class about advanced Linux/ Ubuntu coding and also discussing it in my reflective portfolio class.

It’s a little interesting to try to reflect on all the knowledge and experiences I’ve had so far in life and try to synthesize that into wisdom about how to move forward making meaning in my professional life. We forget that the vast majority of people do not get this much formal education and do not need, want to, or have to put so much formal thought into what they’re willing to do in exchange for money.

This is basically my first official stab at the first draft of the portfolio paper due next Friday. I have a lot of demonstrated interests in projects that discuss preppiness over the course of my graduate career. There might be a better or alternative word for it, but almost every one of my grad school projects has been related to or discussing nodes of interest adjacent to preppy culture. I have two projects about Dave Matthews Band, a project about The Official Preppy Handbook, an internship about Southern Studies/ southern identity, a project about Taylor Swift and recession pop, and a project about TikTok influencers. A published article about ChatGPT, postmodernism, and epistemology, two technical articles about Big Data for higher education, a GitHub about the competitive programming world, a failed experiment in quantitative finance professional certification. Jobs as a data engineer on AirBNB, cybersecurity/ Silicon Valley, and social justice work. And then maybe a few other projects that I can’t remember as well right now.

Plus, core memories of sitting with a hot Baltimore private school guy at the dinner table on my birthday during my first year of grad school, making the professor so jealous that he paused the lecture to comment on my social life, my relationships with two gay men who took erotic pleasure in yelling at me and mocking me when they saw me trapped in a mental hospital years later, with a woman who saved my skin this morning when she let me borrow $500, with Colin, who would probably be both annoyed and intrigued if he saw a full presentation and context of where he fits into my broader social life and has a lot of thoughts about both the preppy and poor white trash dichotomy, and with Austin, who is like Colin but ten years younger. And with Dustin, and with Massachusetts Nick, the Congressional candidate, and with the British guy, and with Chris the porn star, with the classy Salt Lake City guy who stimulated my sexual imagination, with the woman in Idaho who wanted to have a threesome, with more women at Syracuse, with can’t forget the perfectly normal Rhode Island guy who had a beautiful hockey and Harry Styles date with me last fall and who was one of the most objectively caring people when I was trapped in the hospital this summer, and with various OnlyFans stars.

Colin was one thing that stuck out in this list, and I had this idea to reread or re-watch Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance and use that as a segue to comment on, explore, find closure about everything Colin and I really have to argue about—preppiness, the white working class, and the dichotomies and pressures between the need for money to survive in capitalism and the importance of looking beyond money to appreciate other things like art and social justice. The fact that I could write an entire book or PhD dissertation if I wanted about what Colin and my ended friendship means to me is pretty cool. And I think I should.

I remember from my 2020 internship that there was sort of this dichotomy between Southern Studies and Appalachian Studies, where Appalachia has more to do with poverty and whiteness. And what does that have to do with place in terms of Colin and my relationship to New England, and then my experience of having the most postmodern experience ever in Los Angeles (cf. Edward Soja and Frederic Jameson’s comments on LA) right at the crux of trying to finish my masters degree. And one could throw in my application to a French university job today, fulfilling a childhood dream, and my work on other themes: sex worker justice, Silicon Valley, and whatever you would call the Computational Law Review and my Word document data structures project.

I learned about security clearances, too, interviewed with a major Big Law firm, experienced the digital nomad lifestyle and the present day iteration of intentional communities/ DAOs. Bought my first voluntary bitcoin. Watched my best friend from Georgetown become second in line next to Sam Bankman-Fried.

When I talked about sex worker justice, I was thinking about helping Chris with $50, not about helping Colin with $4,000. He’s not a sex worker, he’s my best friend. Alex Christman is a trans woman ten years later after she complained to me that she was straight and her entire school year of flirting with me never happened, so what Colin can be ten years from now will be entirely up to him, including exactly the same person as he is now. I haven’t thought about Wings Over in a while. I’m probably going to send Chris the $25 he asked for. I like the sex worker’s comments about the nature of work, and I realized when she asked me to introduce her to a sexologist, I can basically introduce her to my life coach from this spring, whose response to Colin was to ask me to think about the erotics of how money changes hands, thinking about making sure my therapists are aware of race and class, and thinking about what it means to try to pursue someone who is not available. I had only thought about her implication that Colin is not available, but I just remembered the whole statement I made "I am not available for these kinds of friendships" that is probably one of the main things Colin will remember about me.

Other things: swishing soft dicks and being tender with Marcus Law, telling Adam Snyder to have a tender Halloween night, Passover and Easter with Jaydan Armour, oh and how could I forget the world’s coolest 18 year old and Tom Holland’s biggest fan, as well as Braden Herrmann whom I will always love very dearly.

My therapist challenged me to come to understand "who is Eoin?" Maybe the Hillbilly Elegy project could be a way to understand how to explain to others why I love this Boston Irish guy so much.

I’m going to ask Gabe if he’s head about Hillbilly Elegy. He’s in Kentucky right now. We only have ever had the faintest, softest hint of flirting. I wouldn’t want him to cheat on his girlfriend.

It’s 2 am when I’m writing this. Smoking marijuana, drinking alcohol, enjoying the beautiful SoCal starlight, and reflecting on the sentimental qualities of life. Just like a Deep Springs College faculty member—in spite of everything.

[bontens-new-executive]

Request:

You can make a jealousy scenario with Rindo Haitan,Ran Haitani,Takashi Mitsuya e Wakasa Imaushi Found out that his girlfriend is the only girl on a boys’ team (hockey or baseball) and they get jealous ( In Imaushi’s case, his girlfriend may be younger still in high school but she can’t be a college team in his case) And sorry if you didn’t understand, I’m Brazilian and I use the keyboard translator to write and the simutanio translator to read

_____________________

I’m so up for this omfg,, no bc I love jealousy scenario, I hope this is what you wanted ^^

I'm not sure if this is trigger warning worthy but there're mentions of being hungry and eating food in mitsuya's part

Genere: fluff

Characters: Rindo Haitan, Ran Haitani, Takashi Mitsuya, Wakasa Imaushi

Requests Masterlist

_____________________

Rindou haitani

a friend comes up to you while grocery shopping

Won't admit that's he's jealous but wouldn't deny it either

“Is there really a guy hitting on my girl at 8.30 in the morning? Right in front of me??”

Watches you first before he acts

Always careful with guys he isn't familiar with

He doesn't mind a short pat on the shoulder but he hates it when someone has his arm over you and pulls you to their side or tries to hug you on to their chest

Gets grumpy. Not mad per se but his mood does swing a bit

The longer they're talking to you, the more bothered he gets

Wants to leave as quick as possible

It was early in the morning, rindou and you were grocery shopping. Rindou was still tried and wanted to go home as soon as possible. While he was looking at the sugary sweets, trying to choose one from many, you were going off to look for some eggs. After not long, somebody tapped you on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw your teammate, so you guys started a conversation.

“Hello there.”, was heard behind you, as you were talking to your teammate. "Ah, yes, hey there. You must be Rindou?", the guy asked with a smirk. "Yes I am. And you are?", rindou wasn't sure how to feel about this situation yet. This guy knew his name and his girl, but rindou hasn't heard about this guy at all. "Well, I am-", he started before getting interrupted by you, "he's a my teammate." Teammate? What team? Why would you be on a team with a guy like him? How often were you in contact with that guy? Of course he didn't mind you having other friends but that didn't change the fact that he was, nonetheless, confused. Rindou was asking himself a lot of questions before asking, "what team?" "Well our baseball team", you explained, "don't you remember? I told you." "I remember you telling me something about your baseball team, yes." Rindou looked your friend up and down," What you didn't mention was that you had a guy in your team.", he finished, before looking back at you. "Well, actually, fun fact, I'm not the only guy. We're a group of guys and she is, as a mater of fact, the only girl in our team." Rindou didn't need this overly friendly guy to talk for you, you could do that on your own. Wait. Only girl in an all boys team? Is every guy there this overly touchy and friendly with you? "And I dont like any of them either. Y'all annoying anyways. Now if you'd excuse us, my boyfriend and I were doing something before getting interrupted," you said while moving passt him with rindou, "I'll see you in practice, idiot." "Right, right." You both shared a small smile before you left completely.

"So, a guy's team and the only girl there is my baby? If they get too comfortable with you I might get upset about it", rindou commented. "They're just good friends, no need to get jealous, rin", you reassured him, smiling at the jealousy in his eyes. "Just makin' sure."

Wakasa Imaushi

he comes to pick you up from school

Many people tried to convince you to leave wakasa because he was “too old” or “I’m younger, I'm more fun”

But you both always denied anyone, wakasa was the best for you and you were the best for him

He wasn’t bothered by the age gap at all

He usually picked you up from school, so today was no diffrent

Wakasa doesn't mind you being friends with guys, he gives you your freedom

Regardless, he doesn't like those overly flirty guys to touch you like that

Especially when they're leaning to close to you

And even if he was jealous, he wouldn't really admit it

After school, you sat outside to wait for wakasa. "Hey, y/n!", you heard your teammates laughing and joking, running towards you. Confused, but with a smile, you responded, "hey guys! What are you doing here? Practice is over." Sitting next to you, one of them spoke, "we can't just leave you all alone here, right?"

Not long after wakasa had arrived. While walking towards you, he saw you sitting with a group of guys and one guy having his arm around your shoulders. He never believed that anyone could actually take you away from him. Even if he was sure of it, it didn't fail to cross his mind, what if there was a person that could have chances with you? Would you, all of a sudden, be more comfortable with someone younger?

You share the bento mitsuya made for you

"Hey, y/n, is that your guy?", one of your friends caught your attention. Finding wakasa walking towards your group, you got up to hug wakasa. The second you were in his arms he asked, "who are these guys? Haven't seen them before." Turning your head around, you answered, "they're my teammates." Confused wakasa looked at you, "Teammates? Your hockey teammates?" "Yep my hockey teammates. Why so confused?", Wakasa looked at you, then at the guys, "are there only guys in your team?" Thinking, you respond, "oh? I didn't tell you?", facing your friends, "well I'm actually the only girl in the guys team." "Oh.", was the only thing wakasa let out. "Yep! And she's a great player too. Has a very good form and is a quick learner.", one of the guys said. 'A good form? Her body? He means while playing, right?' Wakasa was overthinking this sentence, not noticing that he had tensed up. "While playing.", you added after watching your boyfriends reaction, "well anyways. We have to go now. Bye guys." Leaving quickly, wakasa didn't let go of your waist, "they're not getting to close to you, are they? Are they always this touchy?" Looking at him you responded, "nope. They're great friends. Why? You jealous?", laughing you added, "don't worry, they know that I'm yours. They won't try anything." Wakasa huffed, "I'm not jealous. I was just curious."

Takashi Mitsuya

Mitsuya is really not one to get jealous

But he doesn't trust those guys who're trying to take you from him

He's very understanding and trusts you a lot

Won't mind a quick hug, as long as the guy's not touching you inappropriately

Gives you a lot of freedom

Won't let it show but he gets quite mad when somebody is flirting with you right in front of him

Holds you closer whenever someone's hitting on you

Doesn't like the fact that he does get jealous sometimes

Has to be touching you somehow, like holding your hand or putting a hand on your waist

Would probably admit to being jealous

Mitsuya wasn't one to get jealous easily, and especially not over little things. Therefore he didn't mind your guy friends quickly hugging you as a goodbye, or whenever they shared their snacks with you.

Today he got up earlier than usual. Reason being, to make you a bento which he gave you before school. He knows you love his food, so he thought maybe he could bring you something to school today.

At break, he was on the way to your usual spot. He knew you were in a hockey team, what he didn't know was that you were the only girl in the team. Arriving there he saw you with some group of guys, which he figured out were your teammates, due to hearing them talk about your practice today. Coming closer, he saw that your bento was opened, laying in the middle of the table. He didn't think anything of it at first, but walking closer he saw that you were sharing your bento. He loved your friendly and selfless nature, but even then, he wasn't liking it that your friends got to eat the bento he especially made for you. Misuya didn't understand why he was feeling jealouse about it. He shouldn't be, right?

"Baby?", you heard, as you felt somebody standing behind you. "Hey, taka!", you greeted, looking up at your boyfriend. "Is that your bento there? It was supposed to be a single-portion meal. And only for you.", mitsuya said, with an unpleasant look. "Yeah, it is! It's really good too!", one of your friends said, the others agreeing. Nodding, but not paying much attention to them, mitsuya asked you, "are you still hungry? We can get you something else." Shaking your head slightly, you responded, "I don't mind, I'm not that hungry anyway." Taking your hand and pulling you from your seat, mitsuya told you, "yes you are. Let's go." Not wasting one second on your goodbye to your friends, mitsuya started walking, hand in hand.

He comes to a game of your, not expecting this many guys around you

Putting the puzzle pieces together, you looked at him, "awww were you jealous?" Although he clearly heard your question, he kept looking forwarding, not facing you. "Maybe a bit."

Ran haitani

He knows you wouldn't leave him for somebody else, so whenever you're with your guy friends, or at practice and guys are watching you, he isn't bothered

He knows, that his confident demeanor throws off a lot of people

Rather than admitting to being jealous, he'd play it off or joke about it

Keeps a close eye on other guys

Shows you off instead

Keeps you close, takes your hand, arm around your waist, arm around your shoulder or straight up makes out with you in front of them

I get the feeling he'd remember their faces and names

Steals all your attention from the others

It was right after your baseball practice that ran arrived. He promised to pick you up, although he was busy, he made time for you. He expected to see you enjoying practice with your teammates. Rather than seeing you with your female teammates, he saw you with a group of guys. He couldn't see any other female teammates so ran figured, that you were the only one in your baseball team. He thought that, like always, he'd just play around with those guys and drive them away, but this time was different. They weren't going as far as the other guys ran's used to fighting off. They were casually joking around with you, ran could see that you were comfortable with everyone. Was ran really jealous of them having this much fun with you? The ran haitani? Jealous?

"Well, hello there", ran spoke loudly, nearing himself towards your group. Smiling excitingly, you went up to hug him. "Hey ran! You made time to come. Thank you." Ran immediately slung his arms around your waist, "of course princess", he looked up to the other guys, keeping you close. "So? What are you doing here? All alone, with all those guys? Hm?" Turning in his arms, you look at your team, "they're my teammates." "Yeah. We're in the same team. And y/n so happen to be the only girl, you know.", one of your friends said, smirking. "Oh yeah?", you feel him tighten his grip around you. "Yeah. It's really fun and we're all very close.", your friend says, testing ran's patience, "isn't that right, y/n?" Rolling your eyes your respond, "yes we are friends, and yes we are close but you're wording is weird. Stop tryna get on Ran's nerves, idiot.", after your words left your mouth, you could feel ran relax, still keeping his grip around you. "Man, I'm just saying", your friend chuckled. Walking away from the group, ran excused you both for a second, "can we go now?" Seeing ran being impatient was not something you'd see everyday, so of course you wanted to know why he'd want to go so quickly, "why so fast?"

Ran, not completely admitting to his jealousy, said, "I want you for myself now♡", leaning close to you, "they've had you for longer than needed."

[hockey-x-imagines]

Meeting the Family || Tyler Seguin

A/N: Here’s a little something. I’m currently trying to get the next parts in each series done, but I’m a bit stumped and not liking how they sound right now. I have a few other shorts like this coming out soon after this, just to give you guys something to read. The family is based on mine. 

Paring: Tyler x Reader. 

Requests: Open

P.O.V: Reader

Word Count: 1517

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“Just a heads up there’s a lot of us, and my siblings might go a little crazy.” You warned Tyler. “My older sister and her family aren’t here." Truth be told you didn’t tell her you were bring him home.

“Did something come up for them?” He seemed a bit confused.

“No, I uh didn’t tell her.” Tyler shot you a questioning glance. “I don’t want you uncomfortable when you meet my family. I’m sure there’s already a level of discomfort, she’ll just add more.” Your older sister has a tendency to flirt with any guy you or your little sisters have brought home.

“What do you mean?”

“Any guy that’s been brought home, she’s flirted with. She has absolutely no respect for any one’s boundaries. I find it extremely annoying, and I didn’t want either of us to deal with it tonight.” You shrugged.

“She can’t be that bad. Besides I want to meet everyone, you should tell her.” You knew it was a bad idea, but if your boyfriend wanted to meet her, you’d make it happen.

"Are you sure?" You really wish he would change his mind, but he doesn't. You send your older sister a text letting her know what's going on, after you park in your parent's driveway. "Ready?"

"Babe I'm fine. Are you ready?" Tyler chuckles. Taking a deep breath, you nod and lead the way to your parent's front door. Opening the door, you're greeted by Hope your 15 year old sister.

"It's about time you brought him home." She jokes as she pulls you in to a hug. Out of everyone in your family, she was the most supportive of you and Tyler. The rest of your family was somewhat supportive, but they were a bit more skeptical. The way your parents looked at your relationship was, you were a small town nobody and he was a big time hockey player.

"Oh, shup up. You and Grace have already met him." Once she lets you go, she hugs Ty. "Where's mom and dad?"

"Seguin!" Grace yells. Tyler snaps his head toward her. "Sorry Ty, I meant my sister." She laughs as she tackles you. He could never understand why Grace called you Seguin. You told him that was your nickname before you had even met. After watching several interviews and tik toks your two younger sisters had decided your bond was similar to that of Tyler, Jamie, and Alex. She dubbed herself Rads, Hope Benn, and you Seguin.

"Mom and dad are out with the horses." Your sister Taylor said walking through the door. "Hey Ty."

"Do you want to wait in here?" You ask.

"I'm good, let's go see the horses you constantly talk about." You didn't think you had talked about them that much. Right before you and Tyler officially got together, your parents had been gifted 2 mares that needed a ton of TLC. Initially you didn't plan on getting attached, but then you were out there feeding them at the ass crack of dawn and spending as much time as you could with them.

Walking back to the pasture, not only were your parents back there but so were both sets of your personal 'horse gurus.' They were just 2 sets of family friends that had horses and swore they knew everything there was to know about horses, you rolled your eyes. You knew they had nothing like your former boss's knowledge of horses.

"Stay out!" Wayne yelled with his back to you. Your mom and Lacey, Wayne's wife, looked up. Your mom's face lighting up when she saw you. She flicked her head motioning you in. You didn't plan on listening to Wayne, you spent more time around these ladies than he had. "I told you-" Wayne turns around cutting himself off. "Y/N!"

"Hey Wayne." You wave. Tyler had stopped at the gate. "Babe, you can come in." You chuckle turning to him. With unsure steps he joins you.

"And who is this?" Lacey asks eyeing the man standing behind you. As far as you knew, your family were the only people who knew of Tyler prior to the two of you dating. Lacey's question had everyone's heads snapping to look at you.

"This is my boyfriend, Tyler." You were a little unsure what to say next. Were you supposed to give him a better introduction? Or were you supposed to give your family and friends an introduction to Tyler?

"I'd give you a hug, but I'm sure I've got horse shit everywhere." Your mom walks over and kisses your cheek. "It's nice to finally meet the man that makes my daughter happy." Everyone aside of Wayne and Jason walk over.

"I'm glad you actually exist." Your dad chuckles taking a glove off to shake Tyler's hand. Leave it to your dad to make some sort of smart ass remark.

"I'm sorry it's taken this long to come out to meet you guys." Tyler addresses everyone. "I assure you sir I am real, and Y/N hasn't been making stories up." You smack his arm causing him to burst out laughing.

"What's going on with Iggy?" Jason just seemed to be holding her. "Also, I'm sure Josie will be here anytime." Your mom shot you a questioning glance. You had told her that Josie didn't know you were coming home. You'd tell her what happened when there were less ears.

"We're getting her shoed." Marissa answered. Much to your surprise Tyler jumped into help with keeping Iggy standing still. Both horses had shoes before Josie and her family showed up.

"What is a guy like you doing with someone like my sister?" Was the first thing to leave your sister's mouth. There was no 'Hey Y/N. How's life?' Lacey, Wayne, Marissa, and Jason's jaws hit the floor. Tyler seemed to be the one most shocked by her question.

"I, uh." He was at a loss for words, looking over at you for an indication of what to do or say. You just shook your head.

"Nice to see you to Josie." Sarcasm dripping from your words. This right here was the reason she wasn't told.

"I mean clearly you got the ugly sister." She snickers. "I suppose you wouldn't have known that unless she brought you home." The urge to throat punch your sister was extremely strong. Sadly, you weren't shocked that she said what she said. "I'm Josie, the hotter better option." Your brother-in-law Tyler didn't say anything, his head was stuck in his phone.

"Aren't you married?" Tyler snaps. "So far, you're the only ugly sister, and I'm not just talking your personality." It was your turn to look stunned. The look on Joise's face was priceless. No one had ever been so blunt with her. "Hell, you make Rads look hot." He added making you laugh.

"Y/N are you just going to stand there while your 'boyfriend' disrespects me?" She looks at you like you should put Tyler in his place. The air quotes she used around boyfriend irritates you a little more. You love your sister, you really do, but it's times like this you can't stand her.

"Nah, I'm good." You tried to keep your voice neutral. She looked to your parents then back to you. She was looking for some type of support. Much to her surprise no one was willing to offer her any.

"There's no disrespect here, just calling it like I see it." Tyler shrugs. Josie stomped her foot like a toddler.

"What are we doing for dinner?" You cut off Josie off before she was able to say anything.

"We were thinking the Hideout." Your dad suggests. If he hadn't suggested the Hideout you were going to. "Josie, you and the family are more than welcome to join, if you pay for your family." Your dad uses her favorite invite, on her.

"I thought it could be Tyler's treat." Of course she did. Josie was one greedy asshole. You love your sister.

"Nope, he's, our guest. It's on us, if you want to join you can help chip in." You mom shut down the argument. Both your parents and your boyfriend were beyond feed up with her.

"Fine, we'll figure something out on our own." She huffs before leaving the kitchen. "Tyler gets the kids we're leaving." She was pissed your parents didn't give into her. You knew she'd give you hell over this later.

"I see why you didn't invite her." Tyler whispered in your ear making you laugh. He places a kiss below your ear, and you lightly elbow him.

"Sorry about our oldest toddler." Your mom groans. "We keep hoping she'll grow up, but it's pretty clear she hasn't." Tyler laughs, you were positive he thought she was joking. "Is the Hideout, okay?"

Dinner was amazing, it totally rebounded the hour that was spent with your older sister. Your mom had explained Josie the best anyone could to Tyler. He couldn't understand why or how she could treat you the way she does. He would never act that way with his little sisters.