happilysmythe

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪

trent frederic.

word count: 1.6k

no warnings

"i think i wanna marry you" — bruno mars

A/N: requested by the showstopping @ahockeywrites — a soft trent fic including a picnic and possibly a proposal, so here i am to deliver. thank u pookie and i hope everyone enjoys this short n sweet trent blurb to hold you over! happy reading :)

- - -

Not a day went by where Trent wasn’t heckled by his teammates, formers, buddies, and even family members for how positively whipped he was for you. And although he hated it on the outside, he wasn’t afraid to show it behind closed doors.

The man loved you—he’d never deny that.

You and Trent had been dancing around the idea of marriage for months. You’d been together for almost three years. It was only natural that the subject would eventually come about. The two of you, however, had received a plethora of comments from your peers about it but never discussed it on your own. At least, not nearly to the extent that you needed to.

You finally made the move from St. Louis to Boston nearly a year prior, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that the other wives and girlfriends began pressing you about it. 

“So you’ve still never once talked about it,” Kiley, your best friend, would say.

And the others would give you mixtures of “Why not?” and “Aren’t you going to?”, usually to no avail.

You’d often mention the interactions to Trent, and he’d typically wave them off, telling you that they were simply being pests. He’d tell you to ignore them. But the last few times you’d mentioned it to him, he’d smile, sometimes letting out a laugh, and even sometimes tell you it was “nice” or “cute”, much to your confusion.

That being said, you really didn’t put as much thought into it as you probably should of.

Because Trent was subtly trying to hint to you that he had other plans; that he might have started to take the girls’ advice.

“How about a picnic?” he suggested, his finger twirling a strand of your hair around as your head comfortably rested in his lap, legs sprawled across the couch cushions. You’d been debating with him on what you wanted to do that night, as he’d just gotten home from a road trip with the team the day prior. “The weather should be nice.”

Your eyes lit up at the idea, teeth on display as you smiled up at him. “That actually sounds great.”

“Well, then.”

“Great. Then it’s settled—we’ll have a picnic,” you sat up, palm flat on the cushion as your arm supported your weight.

“You packing?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, giggling softly as you stood up. “Yes. I am. Because I don’t particularly trust you,” you told him, walking into the kitchen. “But only because of that.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he shouted from the couch.

You whipped up a few sandwiches and stored them neatly in a basket, followed by the remainder of the strawberries you had in your fridge and a few other snacks. You put some napkins and drinks inside, then folded a blanket over the food and shut the basket, leaving it on the kitchen counter to grab when you left.

Then, you got ready, slipping on a pink and white floral-patterned babydoll dress and sandals. You matched a white bow to the white in the dress and clipped it into your hair, then picked out a few pieces of jewelry to top it off. You’d just gotten your nails done a few days before, courtesy of Kiley, and you decided on a French manicure that ultimately tied the look together, in your not-so-humble opinion.

You waited by the door for Trent, basket in hand as you scrolled through your phone, then looked up when you heard his footsteps coming toward you.

“Wow,” he nodded, stopping in front of you. “Outdid yourself, eh?”

“Well, if I’m going to go on a spring picnic. I might as well look the part, right?” you noted, stepping up to him and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And besides—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a white polo with…Khakis.”

He looked around the room bashfully, a guilty expression lining his face. “Well,” he shrugged, lips pressing into a flat line. “I guess you’re right.”

You giggled and gently kissed him once more, and then the two of you set off.

You decided on a quaint, meadowy area that sat just near a local river, which ultimately was the perfect location for your little outing. He and you sat atop the blanket, basking in the sunlight as you ate. 

“You have chocolate on your face,” you giggled, bringing your thumb up to the corner of his mouth and carefully wiping it. You licked it off and dried your thumb with a napkin, taking notice of how Trent’s eyes seemed to be completely trained on you.

“What?”

“Nothing, just,” he paused, taking a breath. “You look really pretty.”

A smile spread across your face as your head tilted to the side at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you,” you bashfully replied.

“Mhm.”

“I think the sun’s about to set,” you noted, wiping your lips with the same napkin and setting it back down on the blanket. He and you finally finished your food, and you turned to face him.

“You wanna watch it?” he asked.

You nodded in response and he moved the basket to the side, lying on his back and extending his arm out. You nuzzled into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, letting his hand rest flat on your hip.

You sighed gently, letting your eyes close for just a moment as you relaxed into him. There you sat for the next ten minutes, the two of you not speaking a word as you watched the sunset hit its peak. It was then that he finally spoke, catching your attention immediately.

“Hey,” he cooed, looking down as you sat up slightly and turned to face him.

“Hm?”

“You mind if we stand up for a second?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, then rose to your feet, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. “What is it?”

He took your hands in his, rubbing the backs gently with his thumbs, then took a deep breath.

“Remember the first time you told me about the girls teasing you?”

“Sort of,” you replied confusedly. “Why?”

“You remember what I said?”

“To ignore them?”

“Yeah. And I kept telling you that; that it was stupid, or that they were just being annoying,” he started softly. “But even if they were being completely out of line doing it, they were right. They just didn’t know that I already had my own plans.”

You tilted your head, brows furrowing together as you tried to make sense of what he was saying.

“I’d already made my choice, but I kept shrugging you off because I was scared.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is…I should’ve done this a long time ago.” 

Then it started to come to you, everything slowly beginning to piece itself together in your head. For the past few weeks, you’d received less heckling from Kiley and the others. Of course, you didn’t think anything of it before. Then, she took you to get your nails done out of the blue. And later that day, she took you shopping for the exact dress you were wearing. Because she knew.

And when Trent got down on one knee, you knew, too.

You gasped quietly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, holding it with one hand, the other still holding one of yours.

“I bought this a month after you moved in,” he finally spoke, holding it up. “I’ve just been trying to figure out when and how to do this.”

“Oh—oh my god.”

He took another deep, long breath. “I love you. So much. And there’s nobody I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So…” He spoke your name softly, prying the box open with his hand to reveal the diamond ring inside.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, your free hand covering your mouth as you finally processed it all. He was doing exactly what you thought he wasn’t going to do anytime soon. And only a few moments passed before you were nodding your head sharply as your hand fell down to your side.

“Yes,” you replied with conviction.

So he took the ring from its resting place and raised your hand, slipping it snugly onto your finger, marveling at how perfectly it fit for just a moment. He tossed the box to the ground and slowly stood up, thumb brushing over the ring on your finger as he held it between you.

You quickly threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. He quickly reciprocated, hoisting you up and holding you tight as your legs wrapped around his waist.

The warm hue of the falling sunset illuminated your surroundings, the scene topped off by the faint noise of crickets as he and you shared one of the most intimate moments of your lives. And he couldn’t have planned it out more perfectly.

A small tear ran down your cheek as you pulled away, smiling gently as you looked down at him. He quickly leaned up and kissed it away. Affection laced his expression when he pulled back to look up at you, unable to contain his smile as he felt the cold surface of your ring grazing the skin on the back of his neck.

“I love you, T,” you whispered to him.

“I love you, too,” he echoed softly, hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear just before adding,

“Mrs. Frederic.”

[happilysmythe]

I KNOW OMG i was dying when i wrote that part

also fr because when does trent EVER wear fancy normal people clothing.

❥ 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪

trent frederic.

word count: 1.6k

no warnings

"i think i wanna marry you" — bruno mars

A/N: requested by the showstopping @ahockeywrites — a soft trent fic including a picnic and possibly a proposal, so here i am to deliver. thank u pookie and i hope everyone enjoys this short n sweet trent blurb to hold you over! happy reading :)

- - -

Not a day went by where Trent wasn’t heckled by his teammates, formers, buddies, and even family members for how positively whipped he was for you. And although he hated it on the outside, he wasn’t afraid to show it behind closed doors.

The man loved you—he’d never deny that.

You and Trent had been dancing around the idea of marriage for months. You’d been together for almost three years. It was only natural that the subject would eventually come about. The two of you, however, had received a plethora of comments from your peers about it but never discussed it on your own. At least, not nearly to the extent that you needed to.

You finally made the move from St. Louis to Boston nearly a year prior, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that the other wives and girlfriends began pressing you about it. 

“So you’ve still never once talked about it,” Kiley, your best friend, would say.

And the others would give you mixtures of “Why not?” and “Aren’t you going to?”, usually to no avail.

You’d often mention the interactions to Trent, and he’d typically wave them off, telling you that they were simply being pests. He’d tell you to ignore them. But the last few times you’d mentioned it to him, he’d smile, sometimes letting out a laugh, and even sometimes tell you it was “nice” or “cute”, much to your confusion.

That being said, you really didn’t put as much thought into it as you probably should of.

Because Trent was subtly trying to hint to you that he had other plans; that he might have started to take the girls’ advice.

“How about a picnic?” he suggested, his finger twirling a strand of your hair around as your head comfortably rested in his lap, legs sprawled across the couch cushions. You’d been debating with him on what you wanted to do that night, as he’d just gotten home from a road trip with the team the day prior. “The weather should be nice.”

Your eyes lit up at the idea, teeth on display as you smiled up at him. “That actually sounds great.”

“Well, then.”

“Great. Then it’s settled—we’ll have a picnic,” you sat up, palm flat on the cushion as your arm supported your weight.

“You packing?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, giggling softly as you stood up. “Yes. I am. Because I don’t particularly trust you,” you told him, walking into the kitchen. “But only because of that.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he shouted from the couch.

You whipped up a few sandwiches and stored them neatly in a basket, followed by the remainder of the strawberries you had in your fridge and a few other snacks. You put some napkins and drinks inside, then folded a blanket over the food and shut the basket, leaving it on the kitchen counter to grab when you left.

Then, you got ready, slipping on a pink and white floral-patterned babydoll dress and sandals. You matched a white bow to the white in the dress and clipped it into your hair, then picked out a few pieces of jewelry to top it off. You’d just gotten your nails done a few days before, courtesy of Kiley, and you decided on a French manicure that ultimately tied the look together, in your not-so-humble opinion.

You waited by the door for Trent, basket in hand as you scrolled through your phone, then looked up when you heard his footsteps coming toward you.

“Wow,” he nodded, stopping in front of you. “Outdid yourself, eh?”

“Well, if I’m going to go on a spring picnic. I might as well look the part, right?” you noted, stepping up to him and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And besides—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a white polo with…Khakis.”

He looked around the room bashfully, a guilty expression lining his face. “Well,” he shrugged, lips pressing into a flat line. “I guess you’re right.”

You giggled and gently kissed him once more, and then the two of you set off.

You decided on a quaint, meadowy area that sat just near a local river, which ultimately was the perfect location for your little outing. He and you sat atop the blanket, basking in the sunlight as you ate. 

“You have chocolate on your face,” you giggled, bringing your thumb up to the corner of his mouth and carefully wiping it. You licked it off and dried your thumb with a napkin, taking notice of how Trent’s eyes seemed to be completely trained on you.

“What?”

“Nothing, just,” he paused, taking a breath. “You look really pretty.”

A smile spread across your face as your head tilted to the side at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you,” you bashfully replied.

“Mhm.”

“I think the sun’s about to set,” you noted, wiping your lips with the same napkin and setting it back down on the blanket. He and you finally finished your food, and you turned to face him.

“You wanna watch it?” he asked.

You nodded in response and he moved the basket to the side, lying on his back and extending his arm out. You nuzzled into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, letting his hand rest flat on your hip.

You sighed gently, letting your eyes close for just a moment as you relaxed into him. There you sat for the next ten minutes, the two of you not speaking a word as you watched the sunset hit its peak. It was then that he finally spoke, catching your attention immediately.

“Hey,” he cooed, looking down as you sat up slightly and turned to face him.

“Hm?”

“You mind if we stand up for a second?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, then rose to your feet, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. “What is it?”

He took your hands in his, rubbing the backs gently with his thumbs, then took a deep breath.

“Remember the first time you told me about the girls teasing you?”

“Sort of,” you replied confusedly. “Why?”

“You remember what I said?”

“To ignore them?”

“Yeah. And I kept telling you that; that it was stupid, or that they were just being annoying,” he started softly. “But even if they were being completely out of line doing it, they were right. They just didn’t know that I already had my own plans.”

You tilted your head, brows furrowing together as you tried to make sense of what he was saying.

“I’d already made my choice, but I kept shrugging you off because I was scared.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is…I should’ve done this a long time ago.” 

Then it started to come to you, everything slowly beginning to piece itself together in your head. For the past few weeks, you’d received less heckling from Kiley and the others. Of course, you didn’t think anything of it before. Then, she took you to get your nails done out of the blue. And later that day, she took you shopping for the exact dress you were wearing. Because she knew.

And when Trent got down on one knee, you knew, too.

You gasped quietly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, holding it with one hand, the other still holding one of yours.

“I bought this a month after you moved in,” he finally spoke, holding it up. “I’ve just been trying to figure out when and how to do this.”

“Oh—oh my god.”

He took another deep, long breath. “I love you. So much. And there’s nobody I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So…” He spoke your name softly, prying the box open with his hand to reveal the diamond ring inside.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, your free hand covering your mouth as you finally processed it all. He was doing exactly what you thought he wasn’t going to do anytime soon. And only a few moments passed before you were nodding your head sharply as your hand fell down to your side.

“Yes,” you replied with conviction.

So he took the ring from its resting place and raised your hand, slipping it snugly onto your finger, marveling at how perfectly it fit for just a moment. He tossed the box to the ground and slowly stood up, thumb brushing over the ring on your finger as he held it between you.

You quickly threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. He quickly reciprocated, hoisting you up and holding you tight as your legs wrapped around his waist.

The warm hue of the falling sunset illuminated your surroundings, the scene topped off by the faint noise of crickets as he and you shared one of the most intimate moments of your lives. And he couldn’t have planned it out more perfectly.

A small tear ran down your cheek as you pulled away, smiling gently as you looked down at him. He quickly leaned up and kissed it away. Affection laced his expression when he pulled back to look up at you, unable to contain his smile as he felt the cold surface of your ring grazing the skin on the back of his neck.

“I love you, T,” you whispered to him.

“I love you, too,” he echoed softly, hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear just before adding,

“Mrs. Frederic.”

#fic rec #tf11 #boston bruins #trent frederic #trent frederic fic

[happilysmythe]

i am SOBBING

marry you - trent frederic

fic by @happilysmythe moodboard by @ahockeywrites

#ahockeywrites #a’s moodboards #trent frederic #tf11 #boston bruins #i’m not crying you’re crying

[happilysmythe]

marry you - trent frederic

fic by @happilysmythe moodboard by @ahockeywrites

[happilysmythe]

angels of passion trent version plz?

bridget i swear

[happilysmythe]

When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-

[happilysmythe]

hello again. I have returned once more to request more things. Soft Freddy just before he’s about to propose ☺️☺️ - @ahockeywrites

hi queen!

i finally finished the blurb! for those interested, you can read it here.

happy reading!

#boston bruins #trent frederic #hockey #trent frederic fic #hockey fic #trent frederic imagine #boston bruins imagine #i love trent frederic #please he's so cute #i'm literally going insane

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪

trent frederic.

word count: 1.6k

no warnings

"i think i wanna marry you" — bruno mars

A/N: requested by the showstopping @ahockeywrites — a soft trent fic including a picnic and possibly a proposal, so here i am to deliver. thank u pookie and i hope everyone enjoys this short n sweet trent blurb to hold you over! happy reading :)

- - -

Not a day went by where Trent wasn’t heckled by his teammates, formers, buddies, and even family members for how positively whipped he was for you. And although he hated it on the outside, he wasn’t afraid to show it behind closed doors.

The man loved you—he’d never deny that.

You and Trent had been dancing around the idea of marriage for months. You’d been together for almost three years. It was only natural that the subject would eventually come about. The two of you, however, had received a plethora of comments from your peers about it but never discussed it on your own. At least, not nearly to the extent that you needed to.

You finally made the move from St. Louis to Boston nearly a year prior, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that the other wives and girlfriends began pressing you about it. 

“So you’ve still never once talked about it,” Kiley, your best friend, would say.

And the others would give you mixtures of “Why not?” and “Aren’t you going to?”, usually to no avail.

You’d often mention the interactions to Trent, and he’d typically wave them off, telling you that they were simply being pests. He’d tell you to ignore them. But the last few times you’d mentioned it to him, he’d smile, sometimes letting out a laugh, and even sometimes tell you it was “nice” or “cute”, much to your confusion.

That being said, you really didn’t put as much thought into it as you probably should of.

Because Trent was subtly trying to hint to you that he had other plans; that he might have started to take the girls’ advice.

“How about a picnic?” he suggested, his finger twirling a strand of your hair around as your head comfortably rested in his lap, legs sprawled across the couch cushions. You’d been debating with him on what you wanted to do that night, as he’d just gotten home from a road trip with the team the day prior. “The weather should be nice.”

Your eyes lit up at the idea, teeth on display as you smiled up at him. “That actually sounds great.”

“Well, then.”

“Great. Then it’s settled—we’ll have a picnic,” you sat up, palm flat on the cushion as your arm supported your weight.

“You packing?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, giggling softly as you stood up. “Yes. I am. Because I don’t particularly trust you,” you told him, walking into the kitchen. “But only because of that.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he shouted from the couch.

You whipped up a few sandwiches and stored them neatly in a basket, followed by the remainder of the strawberries you had in your fridge and a few other snacks. You put some napkins and drinks inside, then folded a blanket over the food and shut the basket, leaving it on the kitchen counter to grab when you left.

Then, you got ready, slipping on a pink and white floral-patterned babydoll dress and sandals. You matched a white bow to the white in the dress and clipped it into your hair, then picked out a few pieces of jewelry to top it off. You’d just gotten your nails done a few days before, courtesy of Kiley, and you decided on a French manicure that ultimately tied the look together, in your not-so-humble opinion.

You waited by the door for Trent, basket in hand as you scrolled through your phone, then looked up when you heard his footsteps coming toward you.

“Wow,” he nodded, stopping in front of you. “Outdid yourself, eh?”

“Well, if I’m going to go on a spring picnic. I might as well look the part, right?” you noted, stepping up to him and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And besides—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a white polo with…Khakis.”

He looked around the room bashfully, a guilty expression lining his face. “Well,” he shrugged, lips pressing into a flat line. “I guess you’re right.”

You giggled and gently kissed him once more, and then the two of you set off.

You decided on a quaint, meadowy area that sat just near a local river, which ultimately was the perfect location for your little outing. He and you sat atop the blanket, basking in the sunlight as you ate. 

“You have chocolate on your face,” you giggled, bringing your thumb up to the corner of his mouth and carefully wiping it. You licked it off and dried your thumb with a napkin, taking notice of how Trent’s eyes seemed to be completely trained on you.

“What?”

“Nothing, just,” he paused, taking a breath. “You look really pretty.”

A smile spread across your face as your head tilted to the side at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you,” you bashfully replied.

“Mhm.”

“I think the sun’s about to set,” you noted, wiping your lips with the same napkin and setting it back down on the blanket. He and you finally finished your food, and you turned to face him.

“You wanna watch it?” he asked.

You nodded in response and he moved the basket to the side, lying on his back and extending his arm out. You nuzzled into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, letting his hand rest flat on your hip.

You sighed gently, letting your eyes close for just a moment as you relaxed into him. There you sat for the next ten minutes, the two of you not speaking a word as you watched the sunset hit its peak. It was then that he finally spoke, catching your attention immediately.

“Hey,” he cooed, looking down as you sat up slightly and turned to face him.

“Hm?”

“You mind if we stand up for a second?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, then rose to your feet, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. “What is it?”

He took your hands in his, rubbing the backs gently with his thumbs, then took a deep breath.

“Remember the first time you told me about the girls teasing you?”

“Sort of,” you replied confusedly. “Why?”

“You remember what I said?”

“To ignore them?”

“Yeah. And I kept telling you that; that it was stupid, or that they were just being annoying,” he started softly. “But even if they were being completely out of line doing it, they were right. They just didn’t know that I already had my own plans.”

You tilted your head, brows furrowing together as you tried to make sense of what he was saying.

“I’d already made my choice, but I kept shrugging you off because I was scared.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is…I should’ve done this a long time ago.” 

Then it started to come to you, everything slowly beginning to piece itself together in your head. For the past few weeks, you’d received less heckling from Kiley and the others. Of course, you didn’t think anything of it before. Then, she took you to get your nails done out of the blue. And later that day, she took you shopping for the exact dress you were wearing. Because she knew.

And when Trent got down on one knee, you knew, too.

You gasped quietly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, holding it with one hand, the other still holding one of yours.

“I bought this a month after you moved in,” he finally spoke, holding it up. “I’ve just been trying to figure out when and how to do this.”

“Oh—oh my god.”

He took another deep, long breath. “I love you. So much. And there’s nobody I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So…” He spoke your name softly, prying the box open with his hand to reveal the diamond ring inside.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, your free hand covering your mouth as you finally processed it all. He was doing exactly what you thought he wasn’t going to do anytime soon. And only a few moments passed before you were nodding your head sharply as your hand fell down to your side.

“Yes,” you replied with conviction.

So he took the ring from its resting place and raised your hand, slipping it snugly onto your finger, marveling at how perfectly it fit for just a moment. He tossed the box to the ground and slowly stood up, thumb brushing over the ring on your finger as he held it between you.

You quickly threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. He quickly reciprocated, hoisting you up and holding you tight as your legs wrapped around his waist.

The warm hue of the falling sunset illuminated your surroundings, the scene topped off by the faint noise of crickets as he and you shared one of the most intimate moments of your lives. And he couldn’t have planned it out more perfectly.

A small tear ran down your cheek as you pulled away, smiling gently as you looked down at him. He quickly leaned up and kissed it away. Affection laced his expression when he pulled back to look up at you, unable to contain his smile as he felt the cold surface of your ring grazing the skin on the back of his neck.

“I love you, T,” you whispered to him.

“I love you, too,” he echoed softly, hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear just before adding,

“Mrs. Frederic.”

#boston bruins #trent frederic #hockey #fanfic #trent frederic fic #boston bruins imagine #trent frederic imagine #soft fic #trent frederic x reader #soft trent frederic #fluff fic

[happilysmythe]

me and a (@ahockeywrites) have a lot of laughs.

but what the fuck

😕

[happilysmythe]

Remember when Freddie heard the Dirty Water for the first time at the Lake Tahoe game and was like "That's such a cool song, it's so Boston" to Patrice Bergeron who was just like "...Yeah, yes it is"

[happilysmythe]

I LOVE HIM OH MY LORD

via canes’s ig story

[happilysmythe]

wsh @ bos - mar 5, 2021

trent after fighting wilson

[happilysmythe]

Aurelia McAvoy x Trent Frederic

(*) indicates 18+ content

the service (3rd May)

trent’s car needs a service, so charlie mcavoy recommends a local garage to him

the assistance

pasta’s car has an issue, and charlie knows just who to call to fix it

the race

charlie takes the boys to a local car race

series in progress, more parts incoming

requested blurbs

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚

trent frederic.

word count: 3.6k

warning: explicit content

"got a ride that's smoother than a limousine" — rihanna

A/N: this fic was anonymously requested, but i already knew i was going to write it anyway lol. i hope you all enjoy...happy reading!

- - -

It isn’t every day that you get the privilege of watching your boyfriend win an award in front of a 19,000-person crowd.

So when Trent won NESN’s 7th Player Award, you couldn’t contain your happiness in the small space of your apartment’s living room. You’d tried to reassure him countless times that he’d win, but he was undoubtedly the most self-deprecating person you knew, so it didn’t come to any avail. Now, however, you were proved right, and you wanted to properly congratulate him in the way he liked best.

So you hopped up from the sofa and ran to your room, rummaging through the back of your half of the closet until your fingertips came into contact with the familiar fabric of a hockey jersey. You reached for the hanger and yanked the jersey from its confines, allowing the light to shine against it, revealing its black color and sleek, white lettering on the back that read FREDERIC, with the number 11 stitched just below it.

You’d bought it a few weeks prior and had been hiding it in the back of the closet, waiting for the perfect opportunity to reveal it to him. This would be that opportunity, and you knew better than to pass it up.

You rid yourself of the T-shirt and sweatpants you had been wearing, tossing them promptly into the hamper that sat against the wall. Then, you grabbed the jersey and slipped it on, allowing it to fall and stop just in line with your waist, just high enough to reveal the lack of proper clothing below it, but low enough that it grazed the top of your thigh.

You left your hair clipped up and walked back out into the living room, turning off all lights, the only source now being the fireplace as it exerted a warm orange hue into the room. You sat comfortably on the couch scrolling mindlessly through your phone, and that was how you spent the next ten, fifteen, twenty minutes waiting for Trent.

Finally, the familiar creek of the door sounded, diverting your attention from your phone to the entryway. Your head snapped up, eyes immediately trained on the dark green suit he donned after the game as he dropped his bag and locked the door. He turned around, head tilting and a grin shaping his lips as he caught sight of you sitting quietly on the couch before him. You stood slowly, watching him walk toward you, finally opening his mouth to speak softly.

“Been waiting for me, eh?”

A faint bout of laughter escaped your lips as you placed your hands on your hips. “Am I that predictable?”

“A little,” he scrunched his nose. His eyes raked your frame, brows knitting as they finally noticed the jersey. His hand reached up to tug gently at the fabric on your arm. “This new?”

“Maybe.”

You turned your body around, giving him the full view of his name stitched across your back. Large hands wrapped around your arms, the feeling all-too-familiar as his head dipped down, lips brushing the skin of your ear.

“Beautiful,” he rasped quietly, gently pressing his lips to the side of your head. To his dismay, your hand rose, fingers tugging at the beanie covering his head until it no longer did so, then tossed it to the floor.

“Hey,” he pouted, “careful with that.”

You giggled softly as he turned you back around, chests now flush against one another. “Sorry,” you teased, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose. “I prefer to see the curls that my boyfriend has been so graciously growing out for me,” you winked. 

“And you’re lucky,” he reminded you, hands snaking around to the small of your back. “This is the best you’re gonna get. I’m not having a repeat of a few years ago.”

“Too long,” you joked, then lowered your voice to a near whisper. “This,” you started, fingers twirling around a strand at the back of his head, “is perfect.”

“Good.”

He leaned down and kissed you gently, hands firm on your back as they pulled you closer.

“I’m proud of you,” you hummed against his lips, a smile tugging at yours. “I knew you’d win.”

“I know. You must have told me a thousand times,” he joked, eyes flitting down as they noticed your hand beginning to loosen his tie. “What’re you doing?”

“Celebrating,” you promptly replied before continuing to untie it, the fabric soon becoming loose around his neck.

“Well, then,” he laughed, “don’t let me stop you.”

You grinned and tugged at the fabric gently, pulling him down and forcing his lips to yours. His hands came up and removed yours from the tie, then pulled it off and grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket, yanking it off and tossing it to the side with his hat. He then unclipped your hair, eyes watching as the strands cascaded down your shoulders and stopped just above the stitched letters on your back. 

It wasn’t long before your fingers were working at the buttons on his collared shirt, quickly making their way down as you felt his tongue slip between your parted lips. The shirt fell open as the last button came undone, revealing his figure underneath, along with the chain that he knew drove you positively nuts every time you saw it. Even on game days, he wore it, precisely for that purpose.

And to toy with you.

He finally took a step to the side, pivoting to face his back toward the couch, then removed his hands from your body for just a moment as he sat down. He looked up at you with an expression that silently told you to join him, and you did, leaning down and straddling yourself in his lap.

“Good way to congratulate you?” you teased, a grin stretching across your face.

“Perfect,” he scrunched his nose.

“Can’t tell you I’ll celebrate you properly if you win and then go back on my word, right?”

He leaned up and kissed a path along your jawline, then whispered against your skin, “Right.”

His calloused hands returned to your sides once more, now slipping under the fabric of your jersey and coming into contact with the bare, warm skin on your waist. They lightly ran along the sides of your upper half, and to your surprise found themselves stopped atop the cotton material of your underwear that just so happened to be growing increasingly damp. And though he couldn’t see that, he knew.

“God, I love that color on you,” you groaned, referring to the green of the suit he wore.

“Mm,” he hummed, a cocky expression lining his face. “And you look hot with that jersey on.”

You shifted slightly, now sitting firmly on his thick thigh as your hands moved slowly up his midsection. His shirt remained open, exposing his toned upper half to your hungry, wandering eyes, which were now fixated on the silver of his chain once again. Your hands finally reached his shoulders, one trailing up his neck and back into his curls. Trent lifted his leg, immediately putting pressure against the area you needed him most, knowing that it wouldn’t give you near enough satisfaction that you so desperately craved.

So you carefully moved your hips, trying your best to relieve yourself even just slightly. The ache between your thighs only lessened by a small degree, but it was enough to draw soft whimpers from your parted lips, the noise filling Trent’s ears like a melody tailor-made just for him. And boy, did he love it.

“Trent,” you groaned, lower lip sticking out as he let up the pressure with his leg.

But it didn’t last for long. He loved watching your face contort with pleasure, especially when the only movement he had to make was to push his leg between yours. Even then, you were doing most of the work, and watching you get off on just his thigh scratched an itch deep within his mind.

“You want it back?”

“Yes,” you practically demanded, voice whiny as your eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, Trent, please.”

His lips stretched into a smirk and he pushed his leg back up, putting the pressure back between your legs as you slowly, painfully rode his thigh. A hand slipped out from under the heavy fabric and cupped your cheek, your thumb brushing against the skin as you carefully moved your hips.

“Gonna get my suit all dirty,” he laughed, his leg moving in a steady rhythm with your hips.

“Washing machine,” you muttered, leaning toward him as he pulled you down, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue was in your mouth again, grazing your teeth lightly before tangling with yours.

Before you could second-guess it, you removed a hand from the shoulder it was on and reached down between you, fingers searching for the metal buckle of his belt and carefully working it. Soon, you were pulling it out of the loops on his pants, then discarding it to the floor amongst the others.

He didn’t protest as you began to unzip them; he was too focused on the feeling of your hips still moving on his thigh, your other hand tangled in his hair. Finally, you managed to pull the fabric apart, revealing his boxers underneath. 

He pulled away gently, a grin still shaping his lips as he looked up at you. “Enjoying yourself, mm?”

“I was until you started talking,” you teased with a curt roll of your eyes.

“You have a smart mouth, you know that?” he shook his head, white teeth on display as he chuckled.

“You wanna see what else it can do?” 

He nodded softly, tongue in his cheek as he did so, the smirk still shaping his lips. “You wanna show me?”

Without another word, you swung your leg around, maneuvering yourself between his thighs as you sank down to your knees in front of him. He sat up and tossed away his shirt, then inched closer to the edge of the couch, and by association, you.

The breath he released as your fingers hooked in his waistband likely would’ve been mistaken for a moan. You barely paid it any mind, however, as you pulled the fabric down just slightly, finally releasing him, his pants soon becoming discarded to the floor below you. You were quick to wrap your fingers around the length of his cock, the tips of your fingers just barely brushing against one another as you pumped him slowly.

A trail of spit left your lips and slowly ran down the side, soon spreading over the warm flesh as it served its purpose, lubricating the underside of your hand. Trent groaned deeply at the contact, compressing his lips as he pulled them between his teeth, a sharp breath exiting his nose.

Finally, you lowered your head and pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, collecting the small amount of precum along your lips, a thin layer glossing them over. You then took the head into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tense skin and letting your teeth graze it lightly. 

“Fuck,” he rasped, a hand finally snaking into your hair and pulling the strands into a ponytail. 

At this, you took more of him, letting him slowly fill your mouth. You released him for a moment, tongue licking a straight path up the underside before wrapping your lips around him again, taking as much as your mouth would allow until he just barely grazed the back of your throat.

Your hand remained firm around the part you couldn’t fit, continuing to pump it slowly as his hand guided your head up and down. Your name seemed to have left his mouth more times than you’d heard in the last week, his voice a rasp that made you weak every time.

“God, you’re so pretty on your knees,” he finally choked out, the words coming out almost as a whine. The sound of curses leaving his mouth mixed with your name as he repeated it weakly.

There was nothing that he loved more than the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him, taking every last inch that you were able, looking up at him through your lashes as you worked his strained cock to its release. His hand forced your head down, fingers growing tight in your hair as he set your pace, and you allowed it, letting him take full control.

You breathed sharply through your nose, your small whimpers humming against his warm flesh and finally, you began to feel him tip over the edge.

You pulled back, releasing him just slightly to allow for more room in your mouth as he came, coating the inside thoroughly with the white liquid. Immediately, his taste was all over, continuing to spill out and down your throat smoothly.

Finally, you slowly slipped him out of your mouth, pressing one final kiss to his tip before rising back up and leveling your face with his. He released your hair, sliding the hand under your chin to inch your face closer. His thumb grazed the outer corner of your mouth, collecting the remainder of himself on it, then pressed itself between your lips. Your tongue slipped out, licking the pad of his thumb clean before he dragged it slowly down your lip.

“Mm,” you softly hummed, a grin shaping your lips. “You taste so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

He softly pressed his lips to yours, then lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Turn around,” he instructed, removing his hands from your body to allow the movement. At his word, you nodded and turned your body around, back facing him as you sat back, sinking into his lap.

A hand slipped under your jersey and flattened its palm against your stomach, fingers pressing into the warm skin as the other moved to the fabric of your underwear. His finger hooked inside the waistband, pulling the fabric down slowly, and you lifted your hips, allowing it to slip off and hit the floor.

The pads of his fingers returned to your skin, pressing gently against the sensitive area. You whimpered softly as they began to skillfully rub circles against your clit, the other hand moving up to your head and gently urging your head back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, Tr—”

“Shh,” he cooed, slowly slipping two fingers into you, curling them together before pulling them out. He repeated that same process, gradually picking up the pace, thumb still working the area above it as he moved.

Gently, he brushed your hair back with his other hand, then kissed your forehead. Moans spilled from your parted lips, your hips rolling into his hand as they tried to create more friction, to make his fingers hit just the right spot each time they pushed in.

You snaked your arm up and wrapped it around his neck, hand palming the back of his head, his curls between your fingers. Your flattened palm pushed his head toward you, forcing his mouth down to yours. He responded immediately, kissing you fervently as his mouth swallowed your moans.

The noises you continued making were quick to get him going once again, because, if there was one thing that he never failed to get off on, it was the sound of the moans that he caused; that he was able to pry from your throat with just his fingers or his mouth, or even just from his thigh like earlier. And when you pulled away, allowing the weak repetitions of his name to slip through your lips again, he didn’t silence you like before.

His fingers kept relentlessly moving in and out of you, thumb still working your clit as it coaxed more chants of his name from your throat as if it were the only word left in your vocabulary. It was then that he felt you tightening around his fingers, still rolling your hips as the familiar pit he often brought to your stomach returned. You adjusted yourself, sitting up slightly to make him hit the spot you needed them to most, whimpering deeply as he brought you to your release.

You came apart around his fingers, grabbing onto him tightly as you rode the high out, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers continued to fuck you dumb with pleasure, the added warmth of the fire in front of you causing beads of sweat to form atop your skin. You felt Trent’s hair dampening under your fingers as your damp palm transferred the moisture to his strands.

“That’s it,” he coached, fingers brushing your hair to the side, giving him access to your neck for his lips to plant a kiss atop the skin.

You finally stilled for a moment, breathing deeply as he lifted his fingers to his mouth. You watched him rid them of what you left behind, then smile down at you.

The expression that you gave him as you looked up silently told him that you wanted more, and he sat you up in his lap, his eyes becoming about level with your shoulders. 

His hands slipped under the fabric of your jersey and pulled it over your head, leaving you completely bare and placing it on the other side of the couch. “As much as I love seeing my name on your back,” he started with a rasp, kissing your bare shoulder, “it’s easier this way.”

You nodded in response, stabilizing yourself as his hand reached down and lined himself up, then pushed just the tip inside. You swallowed thickly from the sensation at first, but you quickly adjusted before lowering yourself the rest of the way, fully sinking into his lap. 

His hands returned to your sides and you quickly felt the pads of his fingers digging into your skin. Your own placed themselves atop them, holding his hands in their spots as you began to move your hips, finally starting to get him, and yourself, off. A throaty, low groan exited his lips, his hands kneading your sides as they gave you support.

Your legs had weakened after being spread open for so long, and the feeling of him pushing himself up into you surely didn’t help. Your eyes quickly screwed shut, lips parted as they exhaled heavy breaths while your body adjusted to him for what seemed like the thousandth time, yet you couldn’t get enough of it. The discomfort only lasted for a moment before he felt just as he always did when he was buried inside of you—perfect.

He was big—so big—and you always told him so. How could you not when he filled you so perfectly, his wide cock having reached places no man had ever previously been able? And the payoff was oh, so rewarding every single time you reminded him, without fail. He’d dedicate more attention to every thrust, every touch, every word—each simple movement, making sure you felt every last inch of him.

And you did.

So this time was no different when you muttered subconsciously about his size, practically moaning the words as they slipped past your lips. Large hands roamed your upper half, trailing up to your chest and kneading the sensitive flesh, drawing strained whimpers of his name once again.

Your back arched off of him as you moved your hips in a steady rhythm with his, his palms still cupping your chest before sliding back down. This time one hand slipped past your waist and continued down, using its fingers to rub your clit again.

“Fuck, Trent,” you sighed, brushing your hair back as he leaned up and kissed your bare shoulder, trailing a path up to your neck and back down. You were a mess; because that’s what he made you.

“I wanna see you,” he drawled, bringing his lips closer to your ear. “Turn around.”

At his word, you lifted yourself, his hands falling to his sides momentarily as you turned to face him again. You wasted no time in sinking back down onto him, feeling him fill you up again as you ground into his lap, your hands lowering to his shoulders. He brought his own down to your ass, massaging the flesh as he guided your movements.

Once again, Trent brought you closer to the edge, his eyes fixated on your face as pleasure laced your expression. He slid his hands up and pulled you down, kissing you hungrily, urging you to let go.

So you did, letting out an elongated sigh of his name as you shattered around him again, this time bringing him along with you. Your thighs trembled as you felt him coating your inner stomach with his release, the sight of sweat lining his face and dripping from his curls making you even weaker than you already were.

Finally, your body stilled, relaxing deeply into his. The only noises filling the room were the sound of the crackling fire mixed with the breaths he and you let out, chests rising and falling. Your fingers pressed into the skin on his shoulders, gripping him tightly to grant yourself the much-needed support. He leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I’m not moving from here,” he joked, a faint smile shaping his lips.

“Neither am I.”

He helped you lift yourself off of him, then moved his body to lie flat across the couch. You grabbed the blanket nearest to you and laid down next to him, draping it over his and your bodies as you pressed your back to his chest, nuzzling into him. His arm snaked around your waist, his flattened hand finding purchase on your stomach, pulling you into him. The cold metal of his chain, in large contrast to the warmth that still radiated from the fire in front of you, pressed into your back.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to be able to see him looking down at you, then smiled faintly and whispered,

“Congratulations, Trent.”

#trent frederic #boston bruins #hockey #fanfic #trent frederic fic #boston bruins imagine #trent frederic imagine #trent frederic smut #trent frederic x reader #hockey fic #hockey fanfic

[happilysmythe]

Trent Frederic | Round 1 media after game 3

[happilysmythe]

A small tribute to Jack Edwards. I may be a newer Bruins fan, but ever since 2018 I have loved every game Jack and Brick called on NESN. It’s gonna be sad to not have him calling games but I hope he enjoys retirement and hopefully the guys can give him a good playoff run!

(If you tap/click it it's a slightly better quality)

[happilysmythe]

trent frederic the typa guy to do it doggy w/ you in his jersey just to see his name on your back

literally omg give me vibes of this fic I wrote ages ago lol but more below the cut 🤭

warnings: unprotected p in v (pls wrap it guys), degradation (use of slut and puck bunny), kinda cnc?

But like, you’re in his jersey, laying on your front in nothing but the jersey. it’s the one he wore in Lake Tahoe when he scored his first NHL goal. you’re kicking your feet in the air as you wait for him to get home.

he walks in to see you on full display for him and he doesn’t even undress himself fully before slipping inside you.

it’s unexpected and expected at the same time. the feeling of him filling you is exactly what you needed after a tough day at work.

“looked too good in my jersey, with my name on your back, to not be fucked like a puck bunny.” his hips collide with your backside as he yanks you up to rest on your hands and knees. “little slut for me can’t wait a few minutes for me me to undress her, can she? it’s why she doesn’t put panties on. she knows i will always give her what she needs.”

you moan and groan at his words, knowing that he isn’t wrong. he knows exactly where to thrust his cock and rub his fingers to make you see stars faster than anyone else, even yourself.