#trent frederic fic

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚

trent frederic.

word count: 2.2k

warning: explicit content

"you the medication when i'm feeling anxious" — ariana grande

- - -

“D’you think anyone would notice if we went to the bathroom at the same time?”

Your head whipped around to face Trent, who had his face buried in his phone, scrolling through his music. The nonchalant expression that was present on his face made you wonder if he even said anything to begin with.

“Sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“Trent, we’re…we’re on a plane,” you pointed out timidly, “with your teammates.”

A soft chuckle left his lips; an action made to taunt you. And taunt you, it did. You loved him, but god, he had a way of making you feel utterly embarrassed sometimes.

“Never done that on a plane before?” he asked you, turning his head ever-so-slightly so he could see you out of the corner of his eye.

“Actually, yes, I have.”

Your comment piqued his interest. “That so?”

“Once. And it sucked. Royally,” you told him promptly, looking back down at the magazine between your hands. “So I’d prefer not to have to do it again.”

“Tell you what,” he spoke, standing up from his seat, placing his phone down and reaching his hand out. “Try it, and if you hate it again, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”

Truthfully, the offer seemed enticing. Hell, Trent was your boyfriend. You should’ve trusted that he’d know what he was doing. And shit, there wasn’t much in the world that you loved more than the way he fucked you—hands on your waist, your neck, lips touching every last inch of your body.

“Fine,” you reluctantly agreed, standing with him and allowing him to guide you toward the bathroom. Shamefully, you walked down the aisle, following closely behind your boyfriend.

“God, I feel like they’re all looking at us.”

He laughed. “The last thing they’re doing is paying attention, babe. Trust me. Just keep walking.”

You finally reached the door, on it a small plaque with the word lavatory engraved into the metal. A prompt check of his surroundings was made before he nudged the door open, holding it in place as his hand pushed you inside by the small of your back. The door clicked shut behind you and he locked it, then made his way over to you. 

“There’s…a lot more room in this one,” you swallowed.

“Just enough,” he mumbled before leaning down and pushing his lips to yours.

Every time he kissed you, your body gave into him, and this time was no different. Every worry, every disapproving thought you had vanished in an instant. He was intoxicating; so fucking irresistible, and your mind struggled to conjure up an excuse or reason to stop, even though you could’ve rattled off near thousands before.

He knew exactly what he did to you, and that was why he proposed that little deal in the first place. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you’d accept his offer.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, meeting yours and slowly tangling with it. You relished in the feeling as his hands slid down to your waist, feet taking slow steps backward, hands pulling you with him.

He sat on the closed toilet cover and pulled you into his lap in one swift motion, hand moving to your front and sliding up, palm flattening on your stomach.

“Is this okay?”

His voice was a quiet rasp. You looked down to find his eyes already looking up at you, waiting for your response. As far as he knew, you were still on the fence.

But you already knew that you were far from it.

You nodded sharply, giving him the go-ahead. He took this and slid his hand down from your stomach to your inner thigh. As he moved his hand up your thigh, the cold surface of his ring grazed your skin, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. 

He loved the sound of your moans. They fueled his ego, showed him what he did to you. Just how good he made you feel, even when he had yet to try.

He was thankful you’d chosen to wear a thin dress that day; he didn’t have to be burdened by pulling anything off. Instead, he was able to push the fabric of the dress slightly up your legs, granting him easy access to the lacy underwear that drove him positively nuts every time he saw it.

His face was buried in your neck within seconds, lips leaving soft kisses as his fingers reached the lace and pushed it aside. Slowly, he dragged his knuckles across the skin, the cold touch of the metal adding to the sensation. He grinned as he felt your hips roll slightly. You were struggling to keep still, and he knew it, which was why it was all the more sweet for him.

“Not so bad, is it?” he cooed, tongue grazing just under your jaw.

“No,” your response weakly sounded, “it’s not.”

“Mm,” he agreed, then pulled back and brought his hand up to his face briefly.

Your eyes widened with shock when spit left his mouth and hit his fingers, leaving them shiny as he rubbed them together and slid them back between your thighs. Then, it was the sound of another faint moan falling from your lips as he carefully pushed them into you, making sure to keep you as quiet as possible.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for stability, nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt that you couldn’t wait to take off once the two of you got home.

He kissed you again, his mouth stifling the moans threatening to break loose as he slowly moved his fingers up and down. With them, your hips moved once more, bringing that cocky grin back to his face again while he continued to move his hand.

He didn’t plan on making this last for long—oh, no—he had other ideas. This was only him getting you ready for him, and truthfully, you practically already were from the start. There wasn’t much time for fooling around, or else the two of you would begin to run the risk of getting caught.

So his fingers were gone almost as fast as they came, the loss of his touch prompting a whimper to escape your throat. “Trent, why—”

“Shh,” he demanded, cutting you off, and you couldn’t help but sit in confusion.

A part of him enjoyed seeing you so needy. The satisfaction of making you squirm with just the denial of his fingers brought him the sense of control that he desperately needed. And he loved how quick you were to listen to his every word. 

But he always made sure to reward you; he wasn’t the type to take without giving.

And it didn’t take long for you to piece together what he was doing once you noticed his hand fumbling with his pants. Soon, you found your hand moving down to wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly, earning a low groan of approval. With all of the times he’d been vocal about how much he loved that feeling, he didn’t even have to say it.

But, of course, he did it anyway.

“Fuck,” he rasped, “you’re so good.” He moaned again, hands molding to your waist and beginning to adjust your position. As he lifted you, your hand began to carefully line him up with you, and he sucked in a breath.

“Wait,” he paused. “Did you—”

“I never miss a day, Trent,” you quickly responded, cutting him off. “You’re good.”

He nodded sharply, then tightened his grip on your waist and lowered you onto him, the sound of mixed moans filling both his and your ears. You leaned forward slightly, placing both hands on his shoulders again as he shifted in your stomach, effectively rendering you unstable.

He loved filling you bare; he felt every bit of movement that way. Every sensation when you’d come apart around him. Not to mention it was a much easier cleanup to tackle.

“God, you feel so good,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“So do you.”

His eyes flitted up to yours as he squeezed your waist, silently asking for your approval to start moving. Of course, it was a no-brainer to you—a hard yes.

So you finally lifted yourself up slightly, then slowly sunk back down. You allowed his firm hands to guide you as you moved up and down, walls constricting around him in the process.

By now, your dress had ridden up your body; the fabric now sat just above your stomach, bundled up at your ribs. You could now feel his large, rough hands bare on your skin, cold ring digging into your side. And not only was he able to see how the lacy underwear—which you knew he loved—hugged your hips, but it also exposed the print of a small bulge in your stomach.

That just so happened to be the shape of his tip.

He could see the movement—every last inch of it—and he loved it.

It wasn’t just the visibility that you loved. It was the way his dick felt buried inside of you, filling you up with ease and hitting every single fucking spot imaginable. How deep he reached. It felt like he was made for you—you’d told him so countless times during sex—and this time proved to be no different. 

For a moment, you forgot that you were on a plane with the rest of his professional hockey team. And when you let a moan slip that might have been just a tad bit too loud, Trent made sure to bring you back down to reality.

“Hey.” 

Your head snapped up and aligned your gaze with his, your hips still grinding slowly. “Don’t be too loud. You don’t want to get us caught,” he cooed, giving your hips a squeeze.

You nodded sharply and buried your face in his neck as soft whimpers continued to spill from your lips. He sped up your movements slightly with his hands, a groan escaping his throat and humming against your mouth.

“Trent, fuck,” you mumbled weakly. 

He felt you clench around him as he started to hit the sweet spot inside you, signaling to him that you were close. He finally removed a hand from your waist and brought it between your legs, thumbing the area gently and bringing you closer. Your reaction to the added sensation was telling—weaker, needier moans that were relentlessly pried from your throat.

“Like that, mm?”

“Yes.”

Finally, you tipped over the edge, his finger keeping up its pace and working you through your release. The moment your head began to lift he enveloped your mouth in another kiss, tongue slipping past your lips once more.

With a low groan into your mouth, he followed, spilling into you, the warmth beginning to spread throughout your stomach slowly. He moved his hand back up, this time finding purchase on your stomach to feel his gradually slowing movements under his palm. 

You could feel the mixture of your releases between your legs, threatening to escape from the place you were joined. But luckily for you, it remained only there and inside.

Once the two of you finally calmed, your head fell to his shoulder, heavy breaths exiting through your parted lips as his arms wrapped fully around your waist, pulling you into him. He pressed small kisses to the side of your head as he let his breaths slow with yours, and the both of you chose to remain silent.

“See?” he finally spoke. “Not so bad.”

“No,” you replied softly, then lifted your head and smiled at him. “Not with you.”

He smiled back and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, then settled his hands on your hips again. Carefully, he lifted you off of him and allowed you to fix yourself while he did the same. He gripped the fabric of your dress and gently slid it back down your body. Finally, you stood up, reflexively reaching out to grab him when you realized the need for stability. 

“I’ve got you.” He stood up with you and pulled you in, his fingers pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You go out first, mk? I’ll come out in a few.”

“Okay,” you agreed softly.

He leaned down and kissed you for the last time and loosened his grip on you, allowing you to walk out of the bathroom and timidly make your way back to your seat. He waited for a few minutes, checking his hair in the mirror and wiping his hands clean of any mess left on them.

You saw him coming back out of the corner of your eye and looked up, watching him closely as he sat back down next to you. Your hand subconsciously stuck out, silently asking for him to take it in his and he obliged without hesitation, thumb gently grazing the skin.

Not long ago, he’d started to notice how you would tend to become needier after sex—you only wanted to be closer to him—and he thought it was just about the sweetest thing, even now. 

Your head rested on his shoulder and he turned, kissing it softly as he continued to hold your hand in his.

“Think you’d do it again?” he asked, his voice a near whisper.

“Definitely.”

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

[nhl-stories]

Body and Mind– Trent Frederic

Summary: Trent is more than just a warm body, but he's not sure how to show Alyssa that

Author’s Note: I originally planned for this to be absolutely FILTHY, still some filth but I lost steam. Freddy is the most requested player I've had recently so hope this hit the spot for some of you, I didn't really know him before but love that he's this cute muppet-voiced boy who could also murder someone.

Word Count: 2.3k

Album Series Masterlist

Gettin' my hands dirty while I beat out the kinks

At first, he liked it.

How could he not? When it made him feel so invigorated, blood roaring in his ears like a sold-out crowd at TD Garden.

And it’s not like he hates in now. It’s sex, really good sex at that. But mostly he’s just tired.         

Is it too much to ask that Alyssa stays in bed long enough for the sweat to dry? Maybe even cuddle? Maybe talk in bed until they both fall asleep?

Maybe if it’s not too much bypass the sex entirely, watch a movie on the couch, eat a real meal together, leave his apartment.

But he’s too afraid to ask. Afraid he’ll lose her entirely if he brings it up that he wants more than the physical.

So instead, he compartmentalizes. Turns off his mind and lets his body enjoy.

///

Alyssa pushes her way into his place like a heat-seeking missile. Her lips are on his before he can really register her at all. She comes in this way most of the time; it still knocks the wind out of him every time.

“That fight was hot,” she runs a finger over the mostly healed cut on his nose.

Trent doesn’t have time to respond with words because she has a hand down his shorts before he can speak.

She moves kisses down his neck, he can feel his face flush even though his blood is racing in the opposite direction.

“I can’t believe I had to wait two days to do this,” she’s sinking to her knees, yanking his shorts down as she goes, her warm mouth enveloping him in one fluid motion.

“Fuck,” he grits out, he balls his fists to stop from yanking her hair so soon.

Of course, that’s not what she wants.

“Babe, fuck my face,” she says looking up at him, a look so innocent it would be believable if it weren’t for the way she kept stroking his shaft with expert precision.

Trent gingerly threads his fingers through her hair, thinking about asking if she wants to move so her knees won’t be on directly on the hardwood floor.

He doesn’t, because that’s not what she wants.

When he still doesn’t respond like she wants, Alyssa puts her hands over his and tightens his grip, pulls his hands to show him what she wants.

And maybe he should be proactive: tell her to get up so he can carry her to his room, so he can take his time, kiss her with passion instead viciousness, be gentle for once. But he’s weak, especially with her tongue sliding velvety around the head of his dick.

She takes him back into her mouth, a little deeper than before. He tightens he grip in her hair and feels her hum around him, egging him to do more. He gives a few shallow thrusts; she moans as she swallows him down.

“Lys, god,” tugging lightly

She pulls off a line of spit keeps her connected, he lets out a whimper.

“Seriously, really give it to me. I want it,” then she’s back to the task at hand.

He feels himself at the back of her throat and he can’t stop himself from thrusting forward. She gags, but keeps going, nose brushing up against his pelvis.

It’s enough for him to disconnect from his brain entirely, giving into what she wants.

He pulls her head back and forth, almost vindictively. Relishing the sloppy wet sounds and the occasional moan that rips from Alyssa’s throat. It doesn’t take long to send himself over the edge, letting her hair go just as he comes.

She pulls off, some of his come dripping down her chin, she uses a finger to catch it and swallow it down the with rest.

Her mascara is a little runny with tears, he thinks she doesn’t wear waterproof mascara for this exact effect.  She stays on her knees while she catches her breath, looking up to give him a dazed sort of smile.

“Fuck that was good,” her voice is gravelly and Trent thinks he could go again already.

He doesn’t need to say anything because Alyssa is already pulling off her shirt and going towards his bedroom.

///

“Can I order a pizza or is it a no cheat meal night?”

Alyssa is putting her hair up in a ponytail as she looks out the window. She only put her underwear back on and Trent feels a weird sense of domesticity in it, the fact that she’s so comfortable in his space.

“No, um go for it,” he blushes when she turns around and catches him staring, as if they hadn’t just had sex.

“Great, I’m starving,” she goes to retrieve her purse from where she tossed it by the front door.

As she breezes by, he sees the faint marks of his fingers around her neck.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she would have stayed some anonymous girl he hooked up with.

When they first met, Trent was just getting used to having casual sex. He always felt vaguely nauseous with no strings attached, he liked cuddling and kissing with no motives, but learned it didn’t make him a bad person to give into his carnal desires with no intentions of catching feelings.

Then he met Alyssa, who introduced him to rough sex. To pulling hair, to throwing a girl against a wall, or wrapping a hand around her throat. When she first asked him to pull her hair harder, to come on her face, it felt so at odds with everything he had been taught about how to treat women.

Then he got the feeling of letting go, the rush of losing control for just a little bit, the mix of being wild and powerful was addicting. He didn’t know he could feel that way off the ice.

But in between rounds, when Trent cleaned her up with a warm washcloth, or ordered food to refuel, or put ice on the bruises she begged for him to give her, they got to know each other.

And now he wants both, the cuddles, the hair pulling, the kisses, everything.

Alyssa flops on the couch as she scrolls through her phone picking a pizza place. Trent flops down half on top of her, resting his head on her naked breasts. He plants a gentle kiss to her sternum; it’s one of the only times she lets him be soft, when they’re in the limbo between orgasms.

She runs her fingers through his hair as she types. Moving her nails down his neck before gently rubbing his back. He sinks into the sensation, taking a moment to imagine having this after a tough loss. Just two people enjoying each other, no sexual tension.

“How are your niece and nephews doing?” She asks because of course she remembers intimate details about his life even though she seems so blasé about everything outside of the bedroom.

But it gives him another chance to live in his fantasy world, gush about his family, ask Alyssa about hers. Sometimes he can pretend he’s getting his cake and eating it too.

///

It’s a stupid idea, but he’s trying to think positively, hope for the best.

He invites Alyssa to a game, and to go out with them afterwards if they win. She’s not sitting by any of the other partners as far as he knows, but he hopes being around them after a game might make her reconsider their relationship status. That meeting the group he spends most of his time with is a selling point for making a commitment.

He realizes how completely idiotic that thinking is about ten seconds in when Alyssa slips something into his pocket while hugging him congratulations.

He turns beet red trying to shove the black lacy panties deeper into his pockets before anyone else notices.

It doesn’t get better from there.

She leans into him in the corner of a booth and holds his hand. He has a moment of butterflies at the simple intimacy before Alyssa ruins it by moving his hand between her legs. She presses his fingers against her wet folds, like she wants to start the foreplay in front of most of his teammates.

It’s November, she shouldn’t even be wearing a mini-skirt with how cold it is.

“Freddy, you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” Marchy makes smooching noise at the pair.

“We don’t put labels on it, I’m Alyssa,” she’s so casual as she reaches her free hand out to shake the captain’s hand, she lets Trent hand slide a little away, but keeps it high on her bare thigh.

Then she continues to charm the pants off all his teammates all while she subtly moves his fingers over her clit. Edging herself in under the table while casually joking around with his friends above the table.  

He should have known she had an exhibitionist streak.

He should have known when he got up for more drinks, she would follow him.

She pulls him away from the bar and drags him down a dim hallway, he’s expecting for her to ask for a quickie in the bathroom, instead she keeps pulling him out a back entrance into a dark alley.

“I want you to throw me up against this wall and fuck me,” she whispers in his ear before giving him a sharp bite on the hinge of his jaw.

There’s a flash of desire that heats up inside him at the request, but he looks around at the dingy, damp alleyway, towards the semi-busy sidewalk at the far end.

“Lys…” he already played a tough game, he doesn’t want to play anymore games tonight, “Anyone could walk out here and see us.”

She steps closer, palms him through his pants; despite his nerves he can’t hide how much she arouses him.

“Then make it quick,” her breath is hot on his face, “I’m already close from before.”

She kisses him softly before roughly biting his bottom lip. Something inside of him roars to life and he throws her up against the bricks, maybe too hard from the way Alyssa grunts but he doesn’t care.

“Atta boy,” she smirks.

He grips her arms harder, shoving her against the wall again. This time with more authority. Her smirk falls away and her mouth hangs open in awe as she looks up at him. He gives her a bruising kiss in response.

He moves his hands down her body before lifting her up, her legs automatically wrap around him, giving him enough leverage to keep her aloft while he opens up his pants and pushes into her. Alyssa gasps in shock, like she hadn’t actually expected him to actually follow through.

It only takes a couple strokes before he feels close, the thrilling fear of getting caught pumping adrenaline through him. He buries his face in Alyssa’s neck and groans as he let’s go.

His arms burn from exertion, after effects of the game earlier, as he lets her slide down the wall.

She tucks his used member back into his pants and zips him up.

She reaches in his pocket and pulls out her panties, slipping them back on in a dirty alley, while his come drips out of her.

“Wow babe, I honestly didn’t think you had it in you for kinky outdoors sex, it was hot.”

He preens a bit at the praise and pet name.

“We should do it again some time.”

And if she asks in the future, he’ll probably do it again, because he’s the weakest man in the world.

///

They had flown back home late the night before and it was optional skate today. After losing three straight, maybe he should want to put the extra work in, but all Trent wants to do is lay in the dark and do nothing.

So of course, that’s when Alyssa shows up unannounced.

She’s sticking her tongue down his throat rather than saying hello or asking how he’s doing.

Alyssa’s been a Bruins fan her whole life, he knows she watched the games. Saw him get high sticked by Trouba, saw them drop another game in a sequence of bad games.

“Aren’t you tired?” He pushes her away.

“We haven’t even done anything”

She moves back towards him but Trent takes a step back, worried if he forcefully makes her stop, it will only spurn her to want more.

“No Lys, aren’t you tired of always pushing and biting and fighting? Don’t you ever want someone to just be gentle with you?” It feels like there’s a rock lodge in his throat, he’s so tired of the aggression all the time.

Confusion crosses her face; Trent can’t quite read if the way she scrunches her brows is a good or bad. He doesn’t even know what kind of response he actually wants to hear at this point.

“No one’s…” her tone is of disbelief, like she’s trying to connect her brain with the rest of her body, make sense of everything she’s ever known, “no one’s ever asked me that.”

“Has anyone ever been gentle with you?”

“That’s not what people want me for.”

Trent’s heart breaks a little, he reaches out and grabs her hand. Alyssa flinches at the contact even though he’s never been so tender with her.

“I want that with you,” he squeezes her hand.

The tension is still taut in her body.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the slapping and choking and spitting a lot more than I thought I would, but after… I want to hold you. And sometimes that’s all I want to do.”

He pulls her hand up to his lips, kissing it.

“I’d kiss you softly, and take my time with your whole body, and I don’t know, I just want something soft.”

Her eyes are so wide, when she finally looks up at him, the first time he actually believes she might be innocent.

“Show me.”

#trent frederic #trent frederic fic #trent frederic imagine #boston bruins #boston bruins fics #boston bruins imagines #nhl stories #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagines #hockey fics

[ahockeywrites]

i once again ask for more freddy content 😋💞

warnings: none, somehow I wrote no smut. pure domestic bliss

authors note: requests are open :)

The sun trickled in through the partly drawn curtains, exposing you and Trent to the winter sun of Boston. Usually you remembered to close them, but after a full day of chores, you collapsed into bed with Trent close behind. Neither of you must have remembered to close them.

Your eyes flicked over to the clock on your bedside table. 5:57 AM. Three minutes before Trent’s ghastly alarm went off indicating that he should probably get ready for morning skate. Today was a game day and his routine was everything, even if you didn’t understand why he did everything he did, you allowed him the space to do what he needed. 

As you kept yourself warm in the final moments of sweet, calm bliss before all hell broke loose with the blaring sounds of a phone alarm. Trent rolled over, muscled arm resting over your body, pulling you towards him. His head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. 

His warmth radiated and you enjoyed the feeling of being the little spoon in the first time in what felt like forever. Trent would never admit it, but he loved being the little spoon. 

You closed your eyes for just a moment, relaxing into Trent’s hold. You would do anything to capture this moment forever.

#ahockeywrites #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey story #nhl writing #trent frederic fic #trent frederic #tf11

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Love Story | Trent Frederic

wc. 5.2k

It's a love story, baby just say yes

Your eyes flit around the stuffy ballroom, the heat causing your body temperature to flare and you can feel the prickle of sweat lining your features. Your hand is forced to be a makeshift fan, lifting to try and gather some air against your face. Finding no reprieve, you lean close to your brother, tugging at his suit jacket until he’s leaning down close to hear you. 

“I’m going to step outside for a moment,” you tell him and when his eyes find yours he nods quietly. 

“Be safe,” he responds and now it’s your turn to nod. 

Your shuffle through the crowded room, smiling at some of the faces you recognize and nodding at the others you don’t. You finally make it to the balcony and step out into the cool summer air. The wind is a treat, blowing your hair lightly around your head and giving a much needed temperature change to your heated state. 

You lean against the balcony, hands splayed on the cool metal as you look across the vast city. You can’t help but wonder how in the world you would ever get to know this unfamiliar place. How would you memorize the subway routes or the layout? 

You turn away from your current dilemma, casting your eyes back towards the party in the ballroom to try and find your brother. When you do, he’s grinning wildly as he talks to another unknown person. The person turns and you’re met with a soft brown gaze that has your body temperature flaring up all over again. 

You avert your gaze, unable to hold its intensity and look around at all the beautiful ball gowns floating by, the lights reflecting on the glitz and glam of the whole event. You find the courage to look back towards the set of brown eyes and watch nervously as he makes his way through the crowd. 

You turn quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice your staring and try your best to act casual when he approaches. 

“Hello,” you hear his soft soothing voice greet and you turn with a small smile. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m Trent,” he says, offering his hand in such a formal way that it makes your heart jump at the action. “Trent Frederic.”  

“(y/n) Mcavoy,” you respond, slipping your hand into his and reveling in the feeling of how his skin feels against yours. 

Recognition flashes across his face at your last name but he doesn’t show it otherwise. You’re quietly grateful he doesn’t say anything about Charlie. 

“Beautiful huh?” he says instead, stepping further out towards the edge of the balcony. 

“Sure is,” you murmur, turning back towards the view that captivated you moments ago. 

“Have you lived here long?” 

You two trade the basic information back and forth between you like a tennis match. Where you were from, how old you were, what you do for a living, what position he played in hockey, and so on. 

“Uh, favorite Shakespeare play?” you ask, running out of basic questions. 

“Shakespeare?” Trent asks, his shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“I’m an English major! Gimme a break,” you joke back, bumping his shoulder with yours. 

“Okay uhm,” he pauses and you admire him as he genuinely thinks about his answer to the question. “Romeo and Juliet?” 

“Oh boo,” you yell back at him, cupping your hands around your mouth for emphasis and Trent nearly doubles over in laughter. 

“Okay Miss English major, what’s yours?” 

“Easy. Hamlet or Much Ado About Nothing,” you state with a shrug like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. 

“Isn’t Hamlet the one where they all go crazy and die?” 

“Yes, and?” you ask and Trent stares at you with a blank look before you’re both cracking up all over again. You’re both straightening up and calming down from your laughing fit when Charlie appears at your side once more with a soft smile and a curious glance towards his teammate. 

“Ready to head out?” he asks and you nod. 

“Nice to meet you Romeo,” you say to Trent and he grins at the nickname. 

“See you around.” 

“And what was that about?” Charlie asks when you’re out of earshot and you can’t help the eyeroll that is produced from your brother's question. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

The second time you run into Trent is ironically at your own apartment. You were standing in front of your door, keys in hand as you shuffled to find the right one. Just as you do, your door swings open before you and a loud shriek leaves your mouth in surprise. 

“Romeo?” you question when Trent’s guilty brown eyes finally land on yours. 

“Come on man let’s go before,” you hear your brother's voice from behind Trent and lean around the hockey player to stare at Charlie. 

“What are you doing in my apartment?” 

“I thought I left my airpods here,” he states, shrugging his shoulders and pushing past Trent who is still stuck in the doorway. 

“So, instead of texting or calling me, you break into my apartment with your partner in crime?” 

“It’s technically not breaking in if he has a key,” Trent chimes in and you turn towards him with a look that says who asked you? 

“Correct,” Charlie says, pointing at Trent in agreement  before throwing him a thumbs up. “I gotta go pick up Kiley.” 

Before you can hurl anymore questions or remarks back at your brother, he’s flying down the stairs and out of your apartment building. For one final time, you turn back to Trent who has a nervous look on his features, unsure of what to do. 

“Gonna let me in Romeo? Or is there a secret password?” you joke and he flushes at your words, stepping aside and letting you into your own apartment. 

“Come on in,” you call back towards him when you realize he’s still standing awkwardly in the doorway. His body half in and half out not sure which way to go. “You’ve already seen the place.” 

“I’m really sorry about that,” he says, finally shutting the door and walking back into your place. 

“Don’t worry,” you say, leaning back against the kitchen bar. “I know what it’s like getting caught up in one of Chucky’s schemes.” 

“Was he worse as a kid?”

“You got six hours?” you ask jokingly and Trent grins. 

Finally, you take a moment to pull off your jacket and shoes, put your bag away and pour a glass of water. You instantly pour one for Trent as well, holding it out to him and he thanks you quietly. 

“Have you tried that new pizza place down the road?” he asks, breaking the silence. 

“Not yet. I’ve been researching a bunch of places that I want to try out and it’s been on my list forever.” 

Trent nods at your answer and you search his brown eyes for an explanation. He smiles sheepishly over his glass at you and the sight sends a slight shockwave through your heart. 

“I haven't either,” he begins and you nod. “Have you eaten? Would you maybe wanna…I don’t know I don’t want to seem too forward we could order in or go there or not go at all I just,” 

“Slow down there Romeo,” you joke and Trent is grateful for your interruption of his nonsense ramblings. “Show me the menu.” 

Trent pulls up the menu on his phone and you start to scroll through it. Trent leans across the kitchen bar to look as well and you realize how close you are. You focus on glancing through the menu quickly when a loud sound erupts from your front door and quick footsteps echo through your apartment. 

“Trent!” you hear your brother's voice and you both jerk your heads up so fast you end up knocking into each other. 

“Fuck,” you curse out, dropping Trent’s phone onto the table and clutching at your head. 

“What are you still doing here?” Charlie asks, accusatory eyes flicking between you and his teammate. 

“Well we were thinking about getting dinner,” you mutter bitterly, still holding your head. 

“Yeah, no,” Charlie says. He marches over to Trent, places both hands on his shoulders and starts to lead him out of your apartment. 

“I’ll see you later?” you call out to Trent and get Charlie’s furious glance in return. 

“No you won’t!” 

You can’t help the small chuckle that releases from you at Charlie’s stubborn words and you roll your eyes. You loved Charlie but he was always going to be way too protective over you. Lord knows he’ll keep you away from Trent at all costs if he finds out you might be starting to develop a crush on the young player. 

It’s been about three months since Charlie and Trent had been to your apartment and you were starting to miss Romeo’s big brown eyes. Trent had successfully been scared off from you by Charlie but that didn’t keep you from crossing his mind almost every day. 

“Freddy you good?” 

Trent is broken from his thoughts by Jeremy skating over to him, nudging the young player to gain his attention. Trent had been off all practice and while he was still fairly new to the NHL, it didn’t excuse how distracted he was today. 

“Yeah man just thinking,” he says shrugging Jeremy off. 

“About?” 

“A girl,” he admits shyly and Jeremy grins. 

“Well whoever she is, you better go get her soon. We don’t need you to be this distracted for the upcoming games.” 

Trent thinks about Jeremy’s words for the rest of practice and ultimately till the moment he gets in his car he realizes he has to see you again. Seeing it’s only about 6 pm, he heads back to your apartment, having no other way to contact you. 

You’re sitting relaxing in your living room, a hockey game playing on your TV in the background as you attempt to finish up some homework. Through the sounds of skates starting and stopping and the passing of the puck, you hear a sharp knock on your door. 

You place your homework down on the coffee table in front of you and wonder if you placed an order for food and somehow forgot. However, when you open the door, your Romeo stands there before you. 

“Hi,” Trent greets, awkwardly waving at you and you smile at his nervous actions. 

“Hi?” you say, giggling a little at the weirdness of the situation. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to finally try that pizza place with me?” 

Your heart flutters at the invitation and you smile widely at Trent. 

“Give me a few minutes to change?” 

You end up at an old school pizza place about 20 minutes later, Trent being kind enough to drive the two of you and you’re admiring the atmosphere as you wait for your food. 

“Why do you wear number 11?” you ask Trent and he smiles at the continuation of your conversation from a few months ago. 

“Well, I wanted the number 7,” he begins to explain, leaning forward as he answers your question and the closeness has you losing your breath. “But it was retired so I kinda liked the idea of 7 and 11 rhyming.” 

You smile and nod, enjoying the explanation for his number. Growing up and watching Charlie play, you knew there was a certain special reason for the numbers players chose even though so many of them want to play it off as a random choice that meant nothing. 

“What number would you pick if you played?” 

Conversation flows like a lazy river between you and Trent and you’re shocked at how easy it all is. It felt like you had known him all your life and not like this was the third time the two of you have interacted. By the end of the night, your stomach hurts from laughter and you find yourself not wanting the dinner to end. 

“How much do I owe you?” you ask when Trent grabs the check and scans his eyes over the total. 

“Suddenly I’m blind,” he responds and you roll your eyes. 

“How much do I owe you!” you insist, not wanting to come off as rude and not pay the boy back. 

“We pay up front, right?” he asks, standing and gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Trent,” you whine out, following him up to the register. He hands the check over and when the cashier announces the total you grin mischievously. 

You dig around in your purse before pulling out your wallet and fishing out a 20. As Trent leans on the counter to sign the check, you sneakily pop the 20 dollars into the pocket of his sweatshirt. His eyes flick down to see what you’re doing and he tries to nudge you away with his arm. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, giggling as he stands back up straight. “Get out of my sweatshirt.” 

He nudges you away too late, the 20 dollars successfully slipping into his pocket and staying there. He turns to you and you offer your most innocent and heart stopping smile that has Trent shaking his head with a smile just as wide. 

The two of you head back to your apartment, the conversation never ceasing until you get to the front door of your place. You turn around, instinctively leaning against the door and fighting the urge to invite him in. 

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say, smiling up at Trent and he grins down at you. 

“So did I. Would you wanna do this again sometime?” he asks, his nerves spiking as the words slip from his mouth. 

“Same time, new place?” you respond and Trent grins. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

“See ya later, Romeo.” 

Trent watches as you slip into your apartment, his heart beating wildly in his chest no doubt trying to fight its way into your place and attempt to stay next you forever. He sighs, a ridiculous and happy sigh, before turning away and thinking over every detail of tonight. 

For the rest of the season you and Trent become completely attached at the hip. You went to dinner together every week at a new place, tried coffee shops in the mornings, new movies at either your place or his. Charlie could tell there was something going on between you two, but he never really could figure out exactly what. 

The Bruins make it to the playoffs and you’re at every game you possibly can make up until their final one. You watched the boys fight hard and you knew both Charlie and Trent would be kicking themselves and feeling like they didn’t do enough for their teams. 

You head down to the locker room, waiting in an eerie silence with the other wives and girlfriends. Kiley and you talk quietly but stop instantly when the boys start to trickle out. Charlie is one of the first and you offer a squeeze to Kiley’s hand before she makes her way over to him. You watch your big brother basically melt into his fiancee's embrace and you’re even more grateful for Kiley than ever before. 

Your attention shifts when Trent comes out. His hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed and his stare conveys every emotion he is feeling in that moment. His eyes slowly find yours and you see a sigh physically release from him. Without a second thought or a word exchanged, you’re making your way to Trent and pulling him into your arms. 

“You played great, Romeo,” you tell him quietly and his smile is hard against your skin. When you pull back, you spot Charlie’s curious gaze and you break off from Trent and make your way over to your older brother. 

“It’s okay if this loss takes longer than 5 minutes,” you tell Charlie, pulling him into a hug and he chuckles against you at the inside joke. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” he responds and you smile. “I’m gonna head back to Kiley’s. Go cheer up Trent.” 

You give your brother an accusatory glare and he chuckles before shoving you in the direction of Trent. 

“Ready to go?” you ask Trent and he offers a sad smile and a nod. He takes a chance, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you’re quick to reciprocate, the two of you heading out of the arena. 

Trent spends the days following the loss at your apartment, claiming he needed to be around company or else he would think about the loss far more than he wanted to. You were happy to oblige, your heart picking up in pace whenever Trent was near sent you into a bliss that seemed endless until your beautiful bubble burst. 

“Do you have everything you need?” you ask Trent, your arms folded securely across your body trying to keep yourself steady. 

“Think so,” he says nodding to his heavy suitcase and your eyes pull to the straps of his backpack that is no doubt weighing him down. 

You were mad at yourself and therefore mad at Trent for being so upset at his leaving to go back home for the summer. You knew he had these plans since way before he met you, but it still hurt nonetheless. You wanted him to stay, wanted to explore the city with him more, wanted to hope those simmering feelings for the boy might finally come to fruition. 

“Three months and I’ll be back in no time,” he reminds you, nudging your saddened state. 

Your eyes gloss over at his words, the reminder that you wouldn’t be able to physically be in his presence hurting so much more than you thought it would. You nod quietly in response to him, not able to trust your voice in the moment. 

“Come here,” he murmurs quietly and you find yourself falling into his strong embrace, the warmth of his body circling yours to form a bubble around the two of you. 

“Don’t go?” you ask pitifully, a tear or two finally making its way down your cheek. 

“Three months. The second I get back, I’m yours.” 

You hold onto those words from Trent all three months. The three months of summer where you slowly lose contact but only manage to think about the young hockey player even more. Three months where you bury yourself into work and family and so on to ignore the reminders and thoughts of Trent that never seemed to cease. Three months and you had started to question what happened to your Romeo. 

The summer without Trent was like a year without rain. Dry, deserted, and uneventful. Waiting for the drought to end felt like it lasted for years. 

When Charlie’s wedding had started to approach and you were in the midst of chaos leading up to it, your brain couldn’t help but think about how the hockey season would start shortly after as well. The idea of hockey and Trent made you feel like you were coming back to life. The drought has ended, the rain has come and you can see a rainbow forming on the horizon. 

You impatiently waited for your Romeo to come back to you and in a weird twist of fate, he did. 

Charlie’s wedding was a beautiful success. Kiley looked stunning, the library was decorated beautifully, Charlie was clearly over the moon happy, and you could finally relax knowing your brother was happily married to the girl of his dreams. 

The speeches had come and gone, you were able to get lots of laughter and even a few tears out of your big brother and after dinner it was officially time to dance. You drank and partied and enjoyed the beautiful atmosphere. Your favorite song had just ended and you took a minute to walk away, get some air and relax for a moment. 

“There’s my Juliet.” 

Your whole body comes to life at the words from the boy behind you. You try to tamper down the ever growing smile on your lips but it escapes anyway. Trent’s eyes trail over your figure before you’re graced with those big brown eyes that have you weak in the knees. 

“I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna come back around Romeo,” you tell him and he smiles, looking down and shaking his head shyly before stepping towards you. 

“Of course I came back,” he says and your heart picks up at the words. “Besides, I needed to properly ask you out at some point.” 

You’re slightly shocked, especially at the fact that you and Trent had somewhat fallen out of contact over the summer. However, your heart was pounding wondering if Trent had been as head over heels as you were. If he thought about you all summer like you had. 

“Can’t wait to catch up, Romeo.” 

“It’s a date.” 

The speed in which you and Trent became inseparable again was alarming to some, but comforting to you. Your weekly dinners, morning breakfasts and coffee shop stops all became dates that had your heart thrashing like a hurricane in your chest. 

The one downfall in your honeymoon phase? Charlie, along with the rest of the world, still didn’t know about your relationship. You both were nervous to let anyone in on your relationship. The fear of the media is strong on Trent’s end and the fear of your brother's reaction on yours. 

You were laying down on your couch, Trent was coming over soon and you were scrolling on your phone to pass the time. You spot a picture of Jeremy and his girlfriend, the instagram caption something adorable and you smile lightly at the happy couple. You like the photo, leaving a quick comment, and pause when you swipe back over to the photo. 

You can’t help but wish you or Trent could post something like that. You wanted your friends to openly hype up your relationship, wanted the fans to call you guys cute, you even wanted the guys to chirp the two of you for being so deep in puppy love. Your thoughts keep you so distracted you don’t even realize Trent has made it to your apartment until he’s standing over you with a worried expression on his face. 

“Princess?” he whispers, and your eyes move from your phone to his face, smiling sadly at your Romeo. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You sit up, Trent instantly coming around to sit next to you and pulls you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest, his hands come up to twist in your hair and you sigh quietly. Trent gives you a minute, wanting to give you the space to talk about it if you want to or move past it. 

“I want to run away,” you murmur, turning to press your cheek against his chest. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“Anywhere but here,” you admit and Trent worries about your words but plays along. 

“Bahamas are beautiful this time of year,” he says and you laugh lightly. 

“Running away from everyone, no job, relaxing on the beach, no media and no older brother? I think it’s an excellent plan.” 

You finally sit all the way up, turning to fully face Trent and he gazes at you with so much intensity that you have to look away again. Trent leans in, presses a kiss to your cheek and when you turn to look at him he pecks your lips before cupping your face in his hands. 

It's been a few days since that conversation with Trent when your relationship is exposed. 

You had skipped the Bruins game today, deciding to stay home and get some work done with the stream playing in the background. You barely even register when the game ends, the stream switching to another game playing and you’re far too engrossed by your book to notice. The only thing that pulls you out of your strength is the sharp knock on your front door. 

Your head tilts at the sound, the book in your hands dropping slightly. You wait for a moment and the knock becomes more prominent. You finally drop the book from your hands and make your way over to the front door. You expect your boyfriend on the other side, a guilty smile on his lips followed by an apology about forgetting his key, but you’re shocked when you meet your brother’s angry glare and a guilty look from Trent for a whole different reason. 

“When the fuck did you two start dating?” Charlie demands. 

Before you can respond, Charlie pushes past you and further into your apartment. Trent follows behind him but stops at your side, leaning down to brush his lips just over the top of your head before leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Media found out.” 

“Wha-” 

“(y/n)!” your brother shouts and you flinch slightly. “Get in here and explain please.” 

You and Trent slink guiltily into the living room, a million questions running through your mind as you face a half angry and half disappointed Charlie. You sit back down on your couch, running through the timeline of yours and Trents relationship and by the end of it, Charlie has settled on a look of disappointment. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“To be fair, I didn’t tell anyone,” you murmur in response and when Charlie glares at you, Trent nudges your side. 

“I was worried about your reaction and I didn’t want the rest of the media to find out and have this whole fit about it and I didn’t want you to think I came here just to start dating some guy-”

“Hey!” Trent responds and you smile, leaning over and kissing his cheek. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Firstly, gross,” Charlie says, pointing between the two of you. “Secondly, I’m pissed you didn’t tell me but I understand. Just be careful around the media now okay?” 

You jump up, running over and hugging your brother tightly and he can’t help smiling at his little sister’s happiness. 

The navigation around the media is hard at first, but you’re happy that you get to flaunt your man around now. It was killing you seeing all the fan pages and the girls who looked like models fawn all over your Romeo. The comments were of course pretty brutal at first and weren't looking too much better even after months had passed. 

It had been a particularly long week, Trent was gone on a roadie, and you had back to back bad shifts and too much homework to do. You found yourself laying on the couch, ignoring all of your responsibilities and counting down the minutes until your Romeo came back home. You start to drift in and out of sleep, the weeks work finally weighing down on your body. 

When you wake up for the last time, you find Trent next to you, running his fingers softly through your hair, You lean into his embrace, a sleepy smile resting on your lips and Trent can’t help but think about how infatuated he was with his Juliet. 

“How are you doing baby?” he asks, his words barely above a murmur next to your ear. 

“Still down to run away?” you ask in response, still desperate to escape from the world with your Romeo. 

“I have a long weekend coming up,” Trent says and you watch as he twists a piece of your hair around his finger. “Clear your schedule next weekend and I’m all yours.” 

Your eyes gaze over Trent, wondering if he’s genuinely serious about this. With him being away and the season winding down, your insecurities were running wild wondering if he actually wanted to be with you. If he actually wanted this to last, to work. If he didn’t, you didn’t think you would make it through a heartbreak that difficult. 

Trent was your Romeo. You didn’t want to suffer the same fate Juliet did but you were okay with at least trying. 

Trent was hoping his love story didn’t suffer the same fate as the age old drama. He wanted this to last for the rest of his life. That’s why he had already asked Charlie’s permission to marry you.

Over the recent roadie, he had pulled Charlie aside and explained everything. He knew how hard everything with the media had been with you and how your insecurities were running rampant and he didn’t know a better way to reassure you. He could be engaged for a few years, but he wanted to give you that fiancee title if you let him. He wanted to give you that constant reassurance through a ring on your finger and a commitment he would never break. 

Charlie was hesitant at first. The two of you are young and having just gotten married himself, he knew how big of a step this was. But when he saw the determination in the young players' eyes and remembered the smile on your lips whenever someone even mentioned Trent, well how could he say no? 

“This place is beautiful,” you say, eyes wandering around the small cottage that Trent had rented for your weekend away. It was quaint, with all the feelings of an older home and the lived in feeling you loved. It had character, as your mom would say. 

You and Trent get settled, touring around the small property, taking a quick nap together before getting up and cooking dinner. Your conversation ranges from topic to topic and Trent is practically shaking with nerves the whole time. He’s been waiting and waiting for the perfect moment and didn’t want a single thing to go wrong. 

Your mind was still fluttering with the idea that maybe Trent took you here as a last hooray before you weren’t together anymore. You had been trying to ignore those feelings for the whole drive up from Boston but they still plagued you. 

“Wanna go look at the stars?” Trent asks and you nod, heading into the rapidly chilling night air with him. 

The back porch is raised up, vines and plants covering the area with fairy lights strung around to create a romantic atmosphere. You can’t help but lean into Trent’s embrace as you stand outside and look at the stars. The ones you had both shared for so long, ones that were around before you and would be there after you and would comfort you till your final days.

“Princess?” Trent whispers, turning to fully face you and you smile up at him. 

“I love you. I care about you so incredibly much,” his words are soft in the night air and your eyes are already brimming with tears from the words spoken. 

“And I was wondering,” he continues. 

You watch with wide eyes as he kneels down on the ground and pulls out the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You blink a couple of times, wondering if this was all in your head but you’re quickly brought back to the moment when Trent takes your hands. 

“Marry me, Juliet,” he begs more than asks and you chuckle quietly at the nickname. “You’ll never have to be alone. I love you and our date nights, our early mornings, the way you’ve always called me your Romeo and that’s the only thing I really know so please, just say yes.” 

And just like that, the worries disappear. You get your Romeo, forever. 

“Yes.”

#prettytoxicrevolver fic #trent frederic x y/n #trent frederic drabble #trent frederic fic #trent frederic x reader #trent frederic imagine #boston bruins x y/n #boston bruins x fic #boston bruins x reader #boston bruins imagine

[pucked-bunnie]

ABOUT: This is a fan-fiction blog centered around hockey players and the nhl, please not that not all requests will be completed and may be deleted if not within my comfort zone.

BLOG UNDER CONSTRUCTION; SOME LINKS MAY NOT WORK/ARE NOT POSTED YET

⎜ inbox status : closed temporarily⎜

⎜ fic requests : closed temporarily⎜

⎜chat & questions : open ⎜

⎜masterlist: n/a ⎜

⎜prompt list ⎜

⎜masterlist ⎜

⎜who i write for ⎜

nico hischier

timo meier

dawson mercer

alexander holtz

john marino

luke hughes

jack hughes

quinn huges

mat barzal

elias pettersson

trent frederic

jeremy swayman

auston matthews

joseph woll

william nylander

cole caufield

jamie drysdale

matthew knies

seth jarvis

cale makar

⎜genres i write ⎜

horror

thriller

angst

romance

alternate universes (e.g. soulmate au, college au etc.) 

fluff

summer lovin' - l.hughes (requested)

synopsis: a summer down at the lake house always had a way of changing peoples relationships.

oh captain, my captain - n.hischier

synopsis: as the new team nurse of the new jersey devils you knew that staying at arms length with the players was for the best, but injuries can bring out your deepest emotions.

my all star - e.pettersson

synopsis: you’ve been dating for a while now and after receiving an invite to go to the all star weekend with Elias you realise your relationship is about to change.

puppy love - t.frederic (requested)

synopsis: you met him once by accident, you don't know what to do when you start your new job with a little bit of puppy love

shameless flirt - a.matthews

synopsis: working as a team trainer came with many ups and downs, when you pull one of toronto's super stars the downs seem to outweigh the ups - but auston is always willing to bring you back up.

#nhl x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes #quinn hughes #trent frederic #luke hughes #nhl fic #nhl hockey #nhl #nico hischier #jamie drysdale #jeremy swayman #mat barzal #elias pettersson #cole caufield #joseph woll #william nylander #auston matthews #dawson mercer #timo meier #john marino #alexander holtz #matthew knies

[chaotickryptonitetree]

ode to the maybes that make up the good stuff (us) | trent frederic

hes so underrated and I needed a reader who wasn't a genius (because I cant relate to smart people and why is the reader always smart??).

You were running late. 

And it–sort of–wasn’t your fault? 

Okay, it was your fault for oversleeping. But then your exam ran over the allotted time (they hadn’t even been passed out when you stumbled into the lecture hall, panting from sprinting from your parking spot, still blinking sleep from your eyes). And then your row was the last row to be dismissed. And yeah, it wasn’t really your fault. 

Speed-walking back to your car, you weighed your options. Your meeting would take you 20 minutes to get to with the mid-day traffic. And it was the kind of event where it was no use showing up late–might be better to just not show up at all. 

And then you passed your favorite coffee shop, and the wheel practically turned into the parking lot itself. Your boss would understand about the final and you could get notes from someone else later. Finishing that class called for a break–and as you turned off the ignition, you allowed yourself your first deep breath all morning. 

The perfect cure to a hectic morning was a fresh start and an almond-milk latte. 

The bell jangled as you opened the door–hit with the familiar smell of roasting beans and gingerbread muffins in the oven. Your exhale was cathartic. 

“Hey, welcome in!” The barista greeted you as you stood in the doorway, walking to join the line. For a random weekday, it was quite busy. You gave your order to the barista politely and walked to the only empty table left. 

You criss-crossed your legs in the booth, pulling out a book from your bag. Time–only interrupted by a swift hand placing a drink on your table and walking back to the counter–warped as your turned pages, eager to escape the craziness of the morning and happy to have a medium in which to do so. 

Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating small flecks of dust in the air. Condensation dripped down the side of your glass, collecting in a ring on the wooden table. The only noise to fill your space was the crisp turning of pages and background chatter filling in the blanks. 

Until it wasn’t.

“Excuse me,” said so quietly you thought you had misheard, you didn’t look up until someone cleared their throat. “Hey.” 

You looked up, squinting slightly from the sun. There was, in fact, the shadow of a very tall person standing near the edge of your table. Trying not to let your disappointment show, you dog-eared the page and closed the book gently. The background chatter roared on as you set your head on your hand, looking up at the voice from before. His face was still skewed by the harshness of the sunlight through the windows. 

“Sorry–didn’t hear ya…can I help you?” you spoke slowly, evenly to the faceless man. He coughed again, pausing too long to be normal given the circumstances. 

“Um, yeah…no, that’s alright!” He answered awkwardly. He then seemed to realize that he hadn’t truly answered the question and sighed. “Was wondering if I could share this table with you?” He seemed to be nervous about your response so he quickly spoke again. “You’re the only one with a spare seat.” 

Luckily, you were in a good mood and didn’t have any emotional attachment to the other side of the booth. “Go for it,” you said with the wave of a hand. “I don’t mind at all.” 

You could feel his smile in his exhale. “Really?” His voice was light and relieved, even as he sat down and moved his bag inside the booth before he slid in. You hummed in response, turning back to your book, head in hand. He respected your quiet, and the sound of him pulling notebooks and pens from his bag faded to background noise as you fell back into your chapter. 

And yet again, a drink being set down disturbed the peace. Your head flitted up, clocking the barista setting down a cold brew in front of the boy across from you. 

And then you got a good look at the boy across from you. 

He was big. Like big enough where you could see every muscle indented in his long sleeve shirt (not that you were staring or anything). A pretty blush painted his cheeks daintily, full mouth quirked to the side as he fiddled with the straw wrapper. Big, brown eyes met yours and widened when he realized you were already looking at him. 

“What?” he asked softly, plunging the straw into the drink and swirling slowly–ice clinking against the glass. 

“Nothing,” you closed your book again, shrugging slightly. “I just didn’t realize that you were handsome.” His blush deepened, creeping up his neck and to the tops of his ears. 

“Oh,” he fidgeted with his hands–which were easily the size of his face–”I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” 

You leaned into your hands more, endeared by his sudden shyness. “Well, it’s true.” You smiled as he tried to keep eye contact. “What’s your name, handsome?” 

He bit his lip, cracking his knuckles nervously. “Don’t wanna tell ya.” 

“And why is that?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

He smiled–a little less shy, eyes like amber in the sunlight. “So then you’ll have to keep calling me handsome.” 

You laughed into your palm. “I’ll call you pretty regardless, promise,” you held your pinkie out as a mocking gesture, “just tell me.” 

“Trent,” he wiped his hands on his sweatshirt and wrapped his pinkie around yours, “that’s me, I mean–yeah, my name.” He didn’t let go before you did, introducing yourself softly with a smirk. He felt like had a certain warmth–a comfort–wrapped around him like the blanket on your childhood bed. He felt kind.

The best beginnings always begin with that–a kindness. 

…

The next time you saw him, you were embarrassed. Your advisor had suggested that you enroll in a supplemental class during the night after a particularly hard semester academically–and as much as it hurt your ego, not going would hurt it more. 

So, you went to the class, despite feeling stupid. Eager to make yourself small, you chose a seat in the back corner, hood up as you got out your supplies. Maybe no one would recognize you, maybe you’d just be able to take the class and then slip out the door when it was over. No harm, no foul. 

But of course you could never be so lucky. Your eyes darted to the door just as he walked in–as sturdy and solid as ever. His backpack straps fought to keep the muscles of his shoulders and neck contained. The indentations of his triceps made his long sleeve flutter around him. 

And you were definitely staring–for much too long, you guessed–because your gaze drew his attention to your corner. His eyes smiled before his mouth as he made his way over to you. He looked–relieved?

“Thank god,” he sighed as he slid into the chair next to yours. “You’re here.” You searched his face for any sign that he was teasing, making fun of you in any way. At all. 

But you couldn’t find it. Still, you were tentative. “Yeah.” Really awesome conversation starter. He didn’t seem to mind. 

“I was scared that I wouldn’t see you again,” he pulled out his glasses and opened up his laptop–the light reflecting off of the lens artificially, “lucky me.” 

You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by the professor introducing themselves and projecting the syllabus. You turned toward the front and tried to tune in. 

But it was hard. Not because the class itself was going to be a challenge–it was only supplemental after all–because he was distracting. 

Distracting you with how cute his rosy cheeks looked under his glasses. How he mouthed words after the professor said them before writing them in his notes. How he nodded his head and actually paid attention the entire time. He was just trying hard. 

And it was alarming how endearing you found that. So, yeah, you half listened for the lecture–but it was intro stuff anyways. As you packed up your back, he let out an exhale and let you out to the door first, holding it open with his wide palm. 

“So, what do you think?” He asked, matching your pace as you walked to the parking lot. It was dark–and far colder than when you had entered the building a few hours earlier. 

“Hmm?” You hadn’t quite heard him–too busy watching him push his glasses up into his hair, making it stick up arbitrarily all around his head. He smiled a sideways little smile. 

“What do you think of the class?” 

“Oh,” and you were embarrassed again, “it’ll be fine. I could use a GPA boost,” you admitted. He nodded, even though you could guess he couldn’t relate. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” he said, even though he didn’t know you, “you’re smart.” 

You pinched your face together. “You don’t know that.” 

He smiled, shoving his shoulder into yours good-naturedly. “Yeah I do,” he was closer in your space now, “can tell by the way you talk.” 

You looked up at him–not convinced–but he was already looking ahead. “Which car is yours?” 

Nodding toward your car, parked away from all the others, he cracked his knuckles. “Cool, I’ll walk you there.” 

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I’ll give you a ride, but only because you’re being so cute tonight” He smiled–like he knew you’d ask. 

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He waited for you to unlock the car. 

His face was blushy from compliments and the cold. “Only the cute ones,” you said as you stepped into the car. He shook his head. 

…

Laundry day in a college dorm just might be the 5th circle of hell. Every machine is taken, none of them work right, and there’s always someone who dumps clothes on the ground–essentially making the room itself a battlefield. 

But at 2am on a Tuesday night–it was peaceful. Sure, there were still the clothes littering the ground like an overgrown garden, but the scent of fabric softener seemed to soften the air around you; low tumble of the machines a gentle lullaby as the campus stilled around you. 

Sitting atop the washing machine you were using, you waited for the cycle to be done. Stars interfered with the inky-black sky as it shone through the windows. And you watched. At this hour, there were no expectations, nothing to do, no one to impress. Just the silence around you. 

And then the door opened. And of course it was him. 

Hidden behind a large basket of clothes, looking adorably soft and sleepy in pajama pants, was Trent (again!). He didn’t seem to notice you as he sorted his clothes–large hands deft and meticulously parting darks and lights. You just watched. 

“Hey handsome.” You said softly as he stood to his full height, slightly startled. But once he realized it was you, he let out a relieved sigh and walked to stand across from you, leaning back on to the row of dryers. 

“Late night?” He spoke lowly, even if there was no need to whisper. As if he was cautious about disturbing the peace. 

You shrugged, pulling your legs into your chest atop the machine and wrapping your arms around them. “I like it,” you said honestly, “it’s the only time I get all to myself.” 

He nodded in a way that made you think he understood. “What did you do today?” You asked, eager to keep him there. 

He thought for a moment, looking slightly upward. Then told you all about his classes (they are interesting, but demanding), practice (just a light skate, they have a game tomorrow), and homework (he has a quiz in a few days). And you nodded, interested in anything he had to say. 

You switched over your laundry as you listened to him, adding in dryer sheets and humming accordingly. It struck you that each time you spoke to him, it felt easy. You picked up right where you left off, like you were old friends. It made you smile to yourself. 

“Whatcha thinkin about?” He interrupted your train of thought. Your eyes flitted up to his, sideways smirk gracing your lips. 

“You,” you answered honestly, knowing that it would make him blush more. He rubbed his eye and tried to hide his delight. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes playfully. But when you just kept looking at him, greedily, just because you knew he’d let you, he paused–a spark of hope lighting up his face. “Really?” His voice came out small. 

You tilted your head, nodding slowly. “Yeah.” He smiled like he knew something you didn’t. He probably did. “Will you tell me a secret?” You asked as he folded his clothes carefully. 

He thought for a moment, as if any sudden words would break the bubble around you both. “I did laundry yesterday,” he admitted, making you smile a wide, genuine grin, “just saw you in here and wanted an excuse to come in.” His blush was a splotchy watercolor painting his tired face. “Now you tell me one.” 

You pretended to think hard, emboldened by his admission. “I love it when you blush,” you said, “but I don’t think I’m doing a good job of keeping that a secret.” He shook his head, folding his last sweatshirt into his basket. 

“You can’t just say things like that,” he laughed lightly, eyes bright. 

“And why not?” You smiled as he stepped closer, close enough for you to see the freckles on his nose. Right in front of the dryer which you sat on. “It’s true.” 

Everything about him was soft. He smelled like he had just showered, and up close you could notice how his hair was still damp at the root. “Because,” he took a gentle thumb to your cheek, showing you the eyelash he had picked up. “It’ll ruin my tough guy reputation,” he flicked it off to the ground. You shivered at the loss of contact–however fleeting it was. “The guys are already giving me shit for how much I talk about the cute girl from the coffee shop.” 

You smiled. “You talk about me to your friends?” Was he getting even closer? 

He couldn’t break eye contact with you if he tried, nodding. “Can I tell you another secret?” You asked gently. He nodded again. “I have a crush on this really cute guy.” He laughed, shutting his eyes and letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. He practically radiated heat. 

“Oh great,” he smiled into the crook of your neck, “and I’m just supposed to go on with my night after this? Like a normal person?” 

You laughed with him and brought a hand to the nape of his neck, running your fingers through his half-damp hair. “How will you manage?” You joked, voice careful. 

He didn’t answer. And there you sat–atop a still warm dryer like the queen of the night, running your fingers through his hair until his arms wrapped around your back in perhaps the gentlest hug you could manage. You let your breathing slow to match his. You forgot what time it was, about your clothes. 

And when he held you like something soft and good, it didn’t really matter–did it? 

…

The stress of night class quickly melted into an excuse to see him two times a week (at least). You’d always get there first–and maybe you’d have an extra energy drink, just because–and then he’d stumble in a few minutes later, making a beeline for your designated corner (wearing his glasses if you were lucky). 

You set down his energy drink in front of him as he unpacked his bag. His eyes darted up to clock the motion before he smiled a sideways smile. “Sweet of you,” he said softly, still bent over his bag. “Thank you,” he added, settling in his seat. 

Nodding, you turned to the front–ready to dial in to the lecture. And you did! For a few minutes, before a notification popped up in the corner of your computer–an email in your school inbox. Switching tabs, you opened the email from an unknown sender. 

Really cute girl next to me. Pretty nervous. Should I make a move?? -T

Smiling to yourself, you immediately typed out a response. 

not sure…heard she usually goes for defensemen. 

A response came a moment later, his shoulder shaking slightly with a laugh. 

If i can beat one in a fight does that count? 

Electing to close out of your email, you settled for moving your chair a little closer to him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly over his sweatshirt. 

“I think you should make a move,” you whispered in his ear, reaching to take a sip of his drink. He leaned back into your touch, tilting his head down to respond. 

“Do ya?” His voice was low, eyes flickering down to your lips for just a second. You nodded, removing your hand from his shoulder. 

“Yeah pretty,” his eyes didn’t leave your mouth, “I really do.” 

But you could wait. And so you did. 

…

When he came back from away games, he was usually tired. And it was late anyways–maybe 11:30? But you were up writing an essay that was due in a few days. Your phone buzzed on the pillow near you. 

Any chance you’re still awake? 

You smiled to yourself, leaning back on the headboard and putting your laptop to the side. 

of course, you answered, paper due soon.

And then a moment later–but could be convinced to take a break??

Three gray dots appeared and then disappeared before his response. 

Was hoping you’d say that. 

And then–Be there soon. 

You smiled, continuing with your paper until a soft knock rapped on the door. 

“Come in!” Your voice was still hushed due to the late hour. He opened and closed the door softly, placing his backpack against the wall and slipping off his shoes. Wasting no time, he slid next to where you sat at the head of the bed, knee knocking against yours. You leaned into his side slightly, loving how warm he was. 

“How’s the paper?” He put his head on top on yours, looking at your computer above you. You didn’t answer, instead typing “eh,,,how was game?” into your document. He laughed, lips brushing against your hair. “Good. Got into a little fight.” He flexed his hand in front of you, knuckles raised and red. You ran a finger over the little cuts (he didn’t flinch) and wrapped both hands around one of his, rubbing your thumb over the veins on the back of his hand. 

He sighed, making you smile. “You should see the other guy?” You questioned, hoping he won whatever scrum he had likely started. 

He nodded slowly against your head, watching your hands work around his. “You should see the other guy,” he confirmed. And there you sat, comfortable and sleepy with a human furnace beside you. He smelled like green apples and a fireplace that had just burned through the kindling. He was cozy–everything about him. You turned just slightly, nose brushing the column of his throat. He shivered. 

“I love spending time with you,” he admitted, embarrassed and not making eye contact with you–as if meeting your eyes would cause the tips of his ears to catch fire. You hummed against his neck, slightly damp from his shower. “You make me laugh and you’re really pretty and it makes me happy when you make time for me,” he rambled on, stuttering slightly. 

“Yeah?” Your lips brushed his throat, prompting an embarrassing, whiny whimper from him. He looked up, giving you more space (even if he didn’t mean to). 

“Yeah,” his voice was small. 

You smiled into his neck, kissing the hollow of his throat, lips feather-light. “Well I like how smart you are,” you moved up, kissing just below his ear. “How kind you are to me,” his jawline, “how you blush when you’re embarrassed,” as if on cue, his ears lit up further. “Yup,” you kissed his ear, “just like that.” 

You felt his breathing labor next to you–chest rising and falling quicker than before. Fixated on your mouth, he started to reply. 

“Well I like–” and that’s as far as he made it before leaning in and gripping the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his in a kiss that burned. 

His lips were slightly chapped, and your teeth knocked into his, but the grip his massive hands had on your face made you lean closer to him–too enamored to care. Smiling against his mouth, you swallowed the groan leaving him eagerly. His hand slid to your jawline keeping you close to him. 

As if you’d ever leave. You placed another light kiss to the corner of his mouth as he caught his breath. 

“About time, eh?” He smiled down at you, eyes dark and bright. You brought his knuckle to your mouth–as if your lips would make the bruises disappear. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. 

“We got there,” you laughed lightly. “Worth the wait, right, handsome?” He ran a thumb over your cheekbone–always so gentle. 

He just snuggled up next to you and let his body get heavy next to yours. You felt him smile next to you. Some questions didn’t need answers. His slowed breathing as he fell asleep next to you was answer enough.

...

love you!

#trent frederic #boston bruins #nhl fic #nhl imagines #bruins #david pastrnak #brandon carlo #charlie mcavoy #matt poitras #hockey #nhl hockey #hockey stuff #nhl

[pastrnaks-sainz]

trent and danton, injection

Trent looked up at him, lip quivering as the nurse wiped his arm with an alcohol pad. Danton took his free him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Everything is going to be fine,” he murmured, “I’ll hold your hand the entire time. It’s only a flu shot.”

#ask game #5 sentence fic #danton heinen #trent frederic

[ilyasorokinn]

misc. masterlist, part one (eastern conference)

this masterlist is basically just blurbs, and maybe some fics, that i'm not proud of (but don't want to delete) or players i no longer write for. just because they are on this list doesn't mean i don't write for them. this list will probably grow as time goes on, i don't know.

key: name = do write for currently name = no longer write for * = from a prompt list

boston bruins,

✷ she's all that (johnny beecher) - johnny takes a bet that he can turn y/n into the next prom queen.

✷ johnny, the hero (johnny beecher) - johnny steps in whena a jerk starts bothering y/n.

✷ starbucks order (trent frederic) - while grocery shopping for y/n, trent gets distracted and stops at starbucks. *

✷ avengers campus (trent frederic) - y/n and trent visit disneyland's avengers campus for the first time.

buffalo sabres,

✷ us against the world (dylan cozens) - y/n and dylan promise each other forever. *

✷ just friends (rasmus dahlin) - rasmus' parents come over to y/n's apartment for dinner, and after dinner wonder if their son and his best friend are just friends. *

✷ selling fruit (tyson jost) - y/n and tyson are on vacation in Hawaii, and she tells him she never wants to leave. *

✷ hatty (owen power) - after his monumental hat trick, the first person owen calls if his girlfriend, y/n.

✷ ugly nightmares (owen power) - y/n suffers from bad nightmares, so she calls owen, who's away at world juniors.

✷ best surprise ever (owen power) - after the olympics, owen surprises y/n by coming home a few days early.

✷ yes he did (owen power) owen defends his partner after an annoying jerk starts bothering them.

✷ really don't care (owen power) - y/n is kent's sister, and dating owen, but owen really wants to hold off telling his best friend.

✷ come into some money (owen power) - owen's recently come into some more money.

carolina hurricanes,

✷ comforting hugs (frederik andersen) - y/n's mom comes back after 10 years of not communicating to invite y/n to her wedding. when things don't go the best, freddie is there to comfort her. *

✷ sore throats and stuffy heads (frederik andersen) - when y/n gets sick, freddie takes on the role as the doting boyfriend, and takes care of her. *

✷ don't feel pressured (jack drury) - jack professes his love for y/n and reassures her not to feel pressured to say it back. *

✷ sour (jesperi kotkaniemi) - y/n takes jesperi to olivia's rodrigo's "sour" concert. *

✷ the best (andrei svechnikov) - andrei always says the best things and knows how to calm y/n down. *

✷ alex karev (andrei svechnikov) - andrei comes home to quite a surprise. *

✷ teuvo teravainen's skating school (teuvo teravainen) - y/n has no idea how to skate, so teuvo has to teach her. *

columbus blue jackets,

✷ bagel day (nick blankenburg) - y/n had the worst day, but somehow, every time nick's with her, he managed to make it better.

✷ how to treat them right (nick blankenburg) - nick teaches y/n's younger brother how to treat his future partner right.

✷ frankie "cali dog" y/l/n-blankenburg (nick blankenburg) - y/n and nick's dog gets to experience the joy of a beach for the first time.

✷ no one else (adam boqvist) - adam and y/n fight a lot, but know that they'd never want to spend their lives with anyone but each other. *

✷ delilah's pretty owner (kent johnson) - y/n has a dog named delilah, and while on a walk, y/n runs in to kent.

✷ christmas in february (kent johnson) - instead of going out for date night, y/n and kent decide to stay in and watch chrismtas movies in february.

✷ bad game (kent johnson) - after a hard game, and an even harder loss, kent takes care of y/n.

detroit red wings,

✷ jt "hero" compher (jt compher) - after a bad day, jt makes it his mission to make y/n's day better. *

✷ scones? (jt compher) - y/n finally meets the compher family.

✷ two of each (jt compher) - whenever jt buys something for his girls, he has to buy two of each.

✷ bruiser seider (mortiz seider) - y/n goes on a podcast, and talks about her relationship with moritz, and their new dog, bruiser.

florida panthers,

✷ first date (mackie samoskevich) - y/n and mackie's first date.

✷ worst idea every (mackie samoskevich) - y/n's on her period, and decides to watch the saddest episode of criminal minds in the world.

✷ please don't leave me (matthew tkachuk) - y/n has an emergency while matthew's on the ice.

✷ birthday celebration (matthew tkachuk) - matthew, with the help of his kids and family, surprises y/n on her birthday.

✷ nightmares (matthew tkachuk) - y/n has a nightmare, and matthew comforts her. *

✷ matthew "simp" tkachuk (matthew tkachuk) - matthew's a simp for his girl. *

✷ like you more than a friend (matthew tkachuk) - matthew admits, to his friend, that he likes her more than a friend. *

montreal canadiens,

✷ cold glass of water (josh anderson) - y/n has a nightmare, and josh is there to comfort her with a cold glass of water. *

✷ two heartbeats (josh anderson) - y/n finds out she's pregnant, but wait, there's more.

new jersey devils,

✷ dance recital (nico hischier) - y/n is a dancer, and nico, being the supportive boyfriend, is always there to show his support.

✷ meeting the family (nico hischier) - nico brings y/n home to meet his family.

✷ you and me (nico hischier) - the only thing that mattered in that moment was nico and y/n. *

✷ take a breath (luke hughes) - after working hard all day, luke forces y/n to take a break from studying. *

✷ not much of a partier (luke hughes) - y/n and luke get invited. toa party, but y/n, ever the introvert, decides to stay in. luke stays with her.

✷ someone missing (luke hughes) - y/n and luke broke up just weeks before the draft, and as that day grew nearer, he couldn't help but feel like someone was missing.

✷ lukey (luke hughes) - lukes hates being called lukey by everyone except y/n.

✷ green monster (luke hughes) - luke spends the entire night jealous.

✷ no talk, just cuddle (luke hughes) - y/n's there for luke after the loss.

✷ spontaneous trips (dawson mercer) - y/n and dawson go on a random road trip.

new york islanders,

✷ a quarantine love story (mat barzal) - y/n and mat are best friends, and during quarantine, real feelings are finally admitted.

✷ by your side (mat barzal) - mat promises to stay by y/n's side when she gets morning sickness. *

✷ too young (mat barzal) - the only thing mat and y/n hear are "you're too young to be married" but they don't care. *

✷ no muffins for you (mat barzal) - mat comes home after a day with the guys to y/n baking muffins. *

✷ cucumber sandwiches (mat barzal) - y/n and mat take their kids on a picnic.

✷ #1 supporter (mat barzal) - at the first game of the series, y/n is there to support mat.

✷ tourists for a day (ilya sorokin) - ilya and y/n become new york city tourists for the day.

✷ rainy new years (ilya sorokin) - instead of going out for new year, you and ilya chose to stay in. *

✷ a letter (oliver wahlstrom) - y/n wrote oliver a letter and slipped it into his bag before he left for his first roadie. he now carries that letter with him everywhere.

✷ big test (oliver wahlstrom) - y/n has a big test coming up, but oliver steps up, and helps her take a step back.

new york rangers,

✷ first kiss (kaapo kakko) - kappo is a bit old fashioned, and hasn't kissed you, so you take initiative. *

✷ braids (braden schneider) - y/n and braden are having a night in, and braden finally admits he can braid hair. *

philadelphia flyers,

✷ matching tattoos (jamie drysdale) - y/n got a tattoo when she turned 18, and jamie loved it. so, he decided to surprise her with a matching tattoo.

✷ paris (joel farabee) - joel plans a secret trip to paris for y/n. *

✷ momma's home (joel farbee) - kit, y/n and joe;s dog, missed his mom. *

✷ not even seven o'clock (morgan frost) - garett frost wakes up his parents early in the morning, excited to open christmas presents. *

pittsburgh penguins,

✷ wired autocomplete interview (sidney crosby) - y/n and sidney do a wired autocomplete interview.

✷ the story of you and i (sidney crosby) - y/n goes on a talk show, and talks about her's and sidney's relationship.

✷ the story of you, me, and her (sidney crosby) - a collection of moments, shared by the crosby family. from sidney's first movie premiere to your daughter's first day of school.

✷ five years (sidney crosby) - it's y/n and sidney's wedding anniversary. *

✷ same feeling (sidney crosby) - sidney always get the feeling when he sees his wife walk into the room. *

✷ cold (sidney crosby) - y/n has a cold, and sidney takes charge and takes care of her.

✷ be spontaneous, be you (sidney crosby) - y/n and sidney are total opposites, but after three years, things must aren't the same as they were. *

✷ breaking the stereotypes (sidney crosby) - y/n is sick and tired of waiting for sidney to propose. so, she decides to take charge. *

✷ behind the tattoo (ryan graves) - ryan, ever the curious guy, asks y/n all about her different tattoos.

tampa bay lightning,

✷ insecurities (phil myers) - y/n gets in her head sometimes with all the media, so phil surprises her with a nice homemade dinner. *

toronto maple leafs,

✷ run away (william nylander) - y/n and william talk about running away from home. *

✷ bet (william nylander) - william and y/n make a bet while watching the world juniors. *

✷ mama (morgan rielly) - morgan is trying to get his daughter to say dad, but sh keeps saying mama.

#taylor's masterlists #nhl #hockey

[bqstqnbruin]

Can u do a Trent Frederic imagine/fic?

I'm so sorry I don't take requests right now! But I do have a few if you go to my masterlist just follow the bruins link to the Trent fics!

[lukeevangelista]

“Who let you look so cute today?”

With Trent Frederic

Love from Freddy anon ❤️

Dw, I got your other one too, but I want to write a full fic for that one so please bear with me on that one 🤍

********************************************

“Who let you look so cute today?” You grinned at Trent as your hand smacked his butt as you walked by him in the kitchen. He was currently standing at the bar, leaning over it as he scrolled on his phone.

He let out a noise you couldn’t make out causing a laugh to escape your lips as he turned around to see you standing there.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, “Do I not look cute every day?”

You rolled your eyes at him as his eyes raked up and down your body.

“I think the real question is,” he laughed as he walked closer, his hands finding your hips, “Who let you look so good today?”

#Trent frederic anon #trent frederic #trent frederic imagine #soft thoughts w/ari #nhl imagine

[snorky]

so for the next (nhl) fic, it has a lighthouse and an abandoned church in it.

who should the next fic be about?

#nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl hockey #nhl #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine #new jersey devils #boston bruins #anaheim ducks

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚

trent frederic.

word count: 7.1k

warning: explicit content

"she can get a taste" — tyga

- - -

ALLISON

Trent Frederic.

Only the most annoying neighbor someone could possibly have. His snarky personality, his cocky demeanor, his massive ego…wildly unpleasant, to put it plainly. 

I only know him because of Brady—my best friend. He has been since we were kids. I went to school with him for years, so it was only natural that we ended up gravitating toward one another. Not to mention we lived only one street away from each other. 

When I started to go over to his house, I met his older brother, Matthew. I ended up becoming closer with him over the years, as well as their younger sister, Taryn. 

Trent was friends with Matthew. They were only a year older than me and Brady, but Trent just loved to act like I was so much younger. He was usually at their house whenever I was, so I had the displeasure of seeing him more often than I would’ve liked to.

He’s the only person I know who calls me “Al”. And boy, do I hate it. I’ve told him countless times that I despise it, but he refuses to call me anything else. He knows it pisses me off—that’s why he does it.

In 2016, Matthew and Trent got drafted into the NHL. I was upset at the time about Matthew leaving—as I said, we had gotten close—but I felt a sense of relief that Trent would eventually be all the way out in Boston after college. I would barely have to see him anymore.

Then, Brady got drafted in 2018, and it was just me and Taryn. 

Every year, the Tkachuks would host this big party and invite a bunch of people for Christmas. It was always fun for us, especially as kids. For a few years after the kids got drafted, they would continue the tradition. It’s gotten harder for them, though, and they eventually stopped doing it as a whole.

This year, they did something different. It would just be the kids—Matthew, Brady, Taryn, me, a few other friends…and Trent. I’d be seeing him for the first time in a few years. 

Great.

- - -

I walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell, then waited for an answer. Not long after, it swung open, and a familiar face stood before me.

“Allison White,” his voice rang from the other side of the doorway. “As I live and breathe.”

He looked…different.

His hair was longer; curlier than it used to be. It was gelled up slightly and a loose strand hung in front of his forehead. He was wearing a suit—a light blue blazer with black pants, and a white collared shirt under it. His tie was red with white polka dots, and a brown belt sat at his waist.

His arms were…bigger. And a thick, titanium ring wrapped snugly around his right index finger.

But his face was the same. It always has been.

“Trent Frederic,” I sighed, folding my arms. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

He chuckled and stepped aside. “Come in before I lock you out.”

“Alright, alright.”

I walked past him, my arm brushing against his, then slipped off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack. I flattened my hands over my dress, smoothing it out before turning back around. Upon turning back, I found Trent standing still, his eyes fixated on me. A few moments passed before he looked back up, snapping out of his state, and spoke.

“Come on, Al.”

“Really?” I rolled my eyes, “I told you to stop calling me that. It makes me sound like a guy.”

“Oh no,” he pouted, taking a step forward, his back facing me as he walked away. Completely disregarding my complaint, he shouted, “Al’s here!” to the rest of the bunch and I shook my head, following behind him.

After walking inside, I greeted the others, some of whom I hadn’t seen in a long while. Eventually, the group sectioned off, and I ended up sitting at the kitchen island with Taryn and a few friends, just talking and having drinks. Trent went off with Matt, which wasn’t surprising, but he found a way to keep coming over and bothering me like he always did.

He pushed past me—roughly, at that—as he came into the kitchen to grab another drink.

“Do you mind?”

He turned around, a smug grin shaping his lips. “Me? Not at all,” he winked, then pushed me again as he walked out.

“Isn’t he cute?” one of Taryn’s friends asked, looking at me. “I wish that was me.”

“Hell no,” I shook my head. “He’s a dick. Trust me—no you don’t.”

“Man, I don’t care. Have you seen him? I would let him do whatever he wants to m—”

“Oh my God,” Taryn cut her off, “shut up!”

I laughed, picking up my glass and bringing it to my mouth once more to take a sip. She wasn’t wrong—Trent was good-looking, sure—but he was nothing more than an ass. It wasn’t often that a guy was more irritating than him.

I looked up to see Matt and Trent separating from the rest of their group and wondered where they were off to. But the thought ended up leaving my mind as quickly as it came. 

- - -

TRENT

Matt didn’t say anything when he wanted me pulled aside. He just elbowed my arm and nodded his head to motion me out. I stood up and followed him into an empty bedroom down the hall. I crossed my arms as he shut the door behind him, then walked over.

“What’s this about?”

“Listen, man, I’ve gotta talk to you about something,” he spoke, folding his arms as well. “It’s about Allison.”

I was confused when he mentioned her name. There wasn’t much to talk about when it came to her, other than the fact that the two of us never got along. It wasn’t exactly shocking, either. I only knew her in the first place because she was friends with Brady, and she was always over their house. It was like I was forced to see her no matter what. Our personalities clashed, anyway. She’s not all that different from me, so it came to nobody’s surprise that we wouldn’t exactly be fond of each other.

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. “What about her?”

“Before I say anything, you need to know that I was in the same boat as you before, alright? I didn’t believe it, either.”

“Believe what?”

He took a breath. “Allison’s got the hots for you, man.”

The laugh that came out of my mouth was almost instantaneous. Allison? Please. She’d rather throw herself into oncoming traffic than see me. And sometimes, I could say the same for her. 

“Good one,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “Seriously. You almost had me interested for a minute there.”

His expression fell flat with his voice. “I’m not kidding, Fred,” he said. “Taryn’s been talkin’ to me. She’s been telling me about how she mentions you constantly, how she’s all of a sudden taken an interest in the Bruins, all of this crazy shit. I’ve seen her more than you have recently and I’ve noticed it, too. I know you probably think we’re wrong, but even a bat can see it.”

“Oh, come on, dude. There’s no way that you actually believe that bullshit. None of that is even proof, you’re just talking out of your ass.” 

There’s no fucking way that they’re right. She just roped him in with nothing to prove it but some speculations and he went with it. If she really felt that way I would’ve known it by now. And it wouldn’t just be Matt and Taryn suspecting it.

“She was watching your games, man,” he said, nodding his head. “She saw it with her own eyes. She went to her house to grab something and she could literally see the game on her TV in the back.”

“I don’t buy it. Just stop trying.”

“Whatever, man,” he sighed. “I just wanted to tell you in case you wanted to do something about it.”

“I’m not going to,” I told him, walking toward the door. “Nice talk.” I walked out of the room and back into the living room, then sat down.

I kept thinking about what Matt told me, though. She always hated me, I always hated her—that’s how it was supposed to be. That’s what it was. It was never anything more than that, and it wasn’t going to be. I continued to tell myself that he was wrong, even as the thought of him being right began to plague my thoughts.

He was wrong, even though she was caught watching games. He was wrong, even though she apparently would always talk about me. He was wrong, even when I would look over and catch a glimpse of her looking my way, then turn back around as if she was never looking at all. He was wrong. That’s what I had to keep telling myself. Keep convincing myself.

But even I didn’t buy it anymore.

- - -

The rest of the night sort of happened in a blur. Matt’s words hadn’t stopped echoing inside of my head, toying with my thoughts since he said them. They only hit me more and more as time progressed, until I was convinced that he really was right the whole time.

So I started to watch her. 

It wasn’t often that I would pay attention to her body language—or anything about her, really—but tonight was different. She seemed to tense up when I was around, which would happen years ago, but it makes a little bit more sense if any indication of attraction comes into play. The looks I found her catching, more than once. The way it seemed as though she was trying to avoid me, trying to avoid even making eye contact with me. The simple shit like that just wouldn’t leave my mind, no matter how fucking hard I tried to make it. 

And with paying attention to her came intruding thoughts of my own. 

Like the way that the black dress she was wearing molded tightly to her body. Or the way that her hair fell down to her collarbones, framing her chest. Or how her legs were completely exposed, leaving me to wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around me.

“Are you listening?”

The sound of Matt’s voice took me out of my thoughts, prompting me to look away from Al and back at him. “Huh?”

“I said,” he leaned in closer, “why don’t you walk Allison home?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” she protested, folding her arms. She shook her head, “I would rather walk home with a gorilla.”

I pouted and brought my hand to my chest. “Aww. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Al.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Matt. “No chance in hell.”

“Oh, come on,” Taryn chimed in. “It’s cold out! Then you don’t have to walk home alone! And it’s nightime. That would be awfully inconsiderate to make her walk alone, Trent.”

“Yeah, I’m with Al on this one. I’m all set.” I turned to her. “You’ll be fine, right?”

“Yup,” she confirmed, nodding her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” Taryn shrugged. “Sounds pretty unsure to me, doesn’t she?”

“You cannot be serious,” Allison exclaimed, then frantically looked around, stopping once she was facing the remaining group of people on the couch. “Brady!”

“Huh?” He whipped his head around. “What?”

“Can you please tell them to stop pestering me about this?”

“About wh—huh?”

Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, that thing we were talking about earlier?”

“Ohhh,” he nodded slowly. “Just let him walk you, Allison. They aren’t gonna give up.” He turned back around and kept talking to the other guys near him.

“You know what? Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll do it.” I walked over to the corner of the room and grabbed my coat from the rack on the wall, then slipped my arms into the sleeves. “Come on, Al. Let’s just get this over with.”

She sighed as well and grabbed her jacket, then put it on and put her hands in her pockets. “Alright.”

“Thanks for having me,” she spoke as she hugged Matthew, then Taryn. She walked over to Brady and did the same with him. “It was really nice to have everyone here again.”

“Anytime,” Matt replied with a smile. “I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He looked over at me, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, then winked.

“Mhm,” I nodded sharply. “I’m sure. But it was nice, I agree. Thanks, guys.”

“We’ll see you again soon, yeah?” he asked as I walked to the door and opened it.

“Yeah.” I held the door open with my back and watched as she brushed past me, waving as she walked out. “See you guys.”

I shut the door behind me and caught up with Al, who was now waiting by the sidewalk. “You know you don’t have to come with me, right?”

“I do. They’re gonna watch through the window, I swear,” I said, walking beside her. “Better off just going with you and saving a useless argument.”

“I guess,” she shrugged. Her arms were folded as she slowly walked down the sidewalk.

“How have you been?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you actually cared how I’ve been you would’ve come up and talked to me tonight. You’ve had the whole night to do it.”

“Would you just answer the question?”

With a sigh, she replied, “I’ve been fine. There. Happy?”

“Yes.”

The rest of the walk was mostly silent. She didn’t want to talk to me—which was nothing out of the ordinary—so I just kept quiet. But the thoughts from earlier were still swirling through my mind. This could be the last time I see her for a while…So I decided to throw it out there. 

“Hey, Al?”

She rummaged through her bag for her keys. “What?”

“So…Matt was talking to me before.”

“Oh, was he now?” she breathed. “I know. I saw.”

“He told me you have the hots for me.”

She stopped dead before the key could even reach the hole, then turned to face me. “What?”

“I didn’t believe him at first. I told him that you hated me.”

“Yeah. I do,” she angrily replied. “Wait—at first?”

“Yeah, well…He started getting to me,” I told her, folding my arms. “He told me things that got me thinking, you know? Even Taryn believes it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You were watching my games.”

“You’re fucking insane. I don’t have feelings for you, Trent. So don’t flatter yourself.” She stuck the key in and turned it. “He’s lying.”

“I don’t really think he is,” I argued. “He seemed pretty sure about it. I can tell when he’s lying or when he’s unsure. He wasn’t.”

“Fuck’s sake, Trent, that doesn’t mean he’s right!”

She walked inside to hang up her jacket and I stepped in, propping the door open with my hand. “If he’s so wrong then what’s with you getting all fucking defensive?”

She slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter. “God, do you ever shut up?! I can’t catch a goddamn break with you no matter what, can I?”

“Well, excuse me, princess. Apparently, I’m not allowed to ask you a question.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she shook her head. “I don’t know why I ever—” She fell silent.

“Ever what?”

“Never mind.”

I scoffed. “Seriously? You’re just gonna pretend like you didn’t say anything?”

She chose to ignore me instead of speaking. Silently, she grabbed her bag and put it down on the floor.

“Of course. Now you’re just gonna ignore me.”

She quickly whipped back around to face me and raised her voice. “Fine! You know what, Trent? Fine,” she yelled. “You were right. I have ‘the hots’ for you. I want you. You fucking happy?”

I took a breath as the words angrily came from her mouth. She finally admitted to the one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about the whole night, and yet I was still dissatisfied. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why do you care, Trent? You hate me, remember? And I hate you,” she rebutted. “That’s what this is. That’s what it always was. We’re not close, and we never have been.”

I ran a hand through my hair and scoffed. “So after I left you just kept hating me anyway?”

“Oh, my God,” she raised her voice again. “No, Trent! I didn’t keep fucking hating you!”

“So what, you were pretending?”

God, she was infuriating. So fucking infuriating. But even as I stood there impatiently waiting for an answer I couldn’t stop myself from thinking the same thoughts from earlier.

She was hot when she was angry.

But she didn’t give an answer. She didn’t have to. Because I already knew it.

“Why? What kind of sense does that even make?!”

“Because it was much easier for me to keep hating you than for me to let myself fucking miss you, Trent!”

- - -

ALLISON

Before I could say anything else, he walked toward me and pushed his lips to mine. 

I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. It was nearly impossible when his hand was on my face the way that it was, forcefully pulling me toward him. His other hand was on my waist, gripping it tightly as he kissed me.

I hated how quickly I gave in to him, how my body just seemed to fold without as much as an attempt to resist. My hand reached up and tangled in his hair as the other wrapped around his midsection and kept him close.

A low groan fell from his lips and hummed against mine as I took a handful of his hair and tugged on it. God, it was hot. He was hot. And I wish he didn’t taste so fucking good.

He tore his mouth from mine and moved it to my jaw, trailing kisses up to my ear and down my neck. Heavy breaths escaped my parted lips as the hand he had on my waist tightened its grip. 

I felt his hand slide up my back, fingertips grazing the skin that was left exposed between the thin straps of my dress. The feeling of his fingers on my back, paired with his lips as they once again pressed against mine, elicited another moan from me. 

Fuck him for listening to Matt. Fuck him for telling me about it. Fuck him for forcing me to admit how I felt.

And fuck him for making me want to do just that.

My hands moved to the zipper on his jacket and quickly pulled it down. He responded to the action and shrugged the sleeves down his arms, then shook it off and tossed it to the floor. A gasp left my lips as he grabbed my waist and walked me backwards, his eyes already having spotted the bed in the room down the hall. 

The door slammed behind him and I soon found myself pinned to the wall with Trent’s hand firmly gripping my throat. He leaned down to kiss me again and his tongue brushed against my lips. I allowed it through without a second thought and the muscles in his hand tightened around my neck. 

“Trent,” I breathed shakily. “Fuck.”

I felt him grin slightly against me and soon his free hand was on my shoulder, pushing the strap on my dress down my arm. I managed to shrug the other one off without his help and it wasn’t long before I felt him violently tugging the fabric down my body, enough for it to slip off and pool at my feet on the floor. It was almost ironic that I hadn’t worn a bra.

He hungrily eyed my figure and swallowed thickly. The warm skin of his hands grazed the exposed skin of my thigh as it trailed upward and I moaned again softly at the touch.

“Thought you hated me, hm?”

He slowly removed his hand from my neck and moved it under my chin, using a finger to tilt it up. The way that his eyes slightly narrowed and his lips faintly curved into a smirk as he looked down at me rendered me nearly speechless.

“I do,” I breathed heavily as his eyes bored into mine. “God, I hate you.”

“I’m not too fond of you either.” He pressed another soft kiss to my lips. “But you already knew that.”

My fingers curled around the lapels of his blazer and peeled it from his arms, revealing the tightness of the collared shirt under it. The fabric looked as if it was begging to be loosened, to be removed from his body. Or maybe it was just my own head that wanted that to happen.

His eyes never broke contact with mine as he reached up and loosened his tie, then pulled the red fabric from his neck and threw it down with his suit jacket. 

When he kissed me again my hand reached for his shirt and untucked it from his trousers, then slipped under it and slid up, stopping at his chest and staying firm in its spot. No matter how much I hated him—or at least claimed to—there was no denying the fact that I couldn’t resist him. He was so fucking hot. And God, it felt so good being pushed against the wall by him and his goddamned frame. 

His head craned to the side and aligned with my neck once more as he kissed it, leaving marks in his path. My hand maintained its place on his chest, rubbing it up and down while he coaxed more groans from my lips. 

I slipped my arm out of his shirt and brought my free hand up to the collar. It didn’t take long for him to notice what I was trying to do, and he pulled back to allow me to unbutton it. Slowly, I worked my way down, and I was able to feel his burning stare as I looked down at my hands. I gulped as I reached the last button; the shirt finally fell open, revealing the toned stomach underneath. 

A chain hung from his neck, which was once covered by the suit. The tag on the chain sat in the valley of his chest, highlighting its definition and heightening my desire even more.

“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath. It wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen him shirtless—that came with being around him so damn much. But it was the first time I had in years, and that meant that it wasn’t the same as it used to be. And boy, was it fucking different.

I pushed the sleeves down his arms, my eyes staying focused on his upper half and barely noticing the fabric as it hit the ground. My fingers wrapped around his biceps and my hands moved up and down slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin under my palms. “God, you’re big.”

“Yeah?” he asked and I nodded in response. “I know.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I shook my head. “Still the same asshole. And still so damn full of yourself.”

He didn’t come up with a witty reply. Instead, he just kept looking down at me with that filthy grin plastered on his face and I shook my head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “God, do you ever shut up?”

He reached up and grabbed the back of my head, then pulled me in, forcefully shoving his lips to mine again. By now, it was too late to back out—I already knew what I’d gotten into. No matter how irritating, how rude, how self-centered and dickless he acted, I wanted him. I wanted to keep feeling his hands all over me. To keep feeling his mouth on mine.

To fuck him.

And besides, how could I possibly have backed out when I was standing half-naked between him and the wall?

He moaned into my mouth as my hands roamed his bare back, feeling the hardness of his muscles for myself. The sound was admittedly gorgeous, and I knew it wasn’t hard for him to tell that I thought so when I felt that shit-eating grin spread across his lips against my own. So fucking cocky.

His hand moved downward and I felt his thumb pressing into the soft skin of my inner thigh as he grabbed it. He lifted my leg up in a silent demand to wrap my leg around his waist and I obliged, doing just that almost immediately. 

I reached down between us and began to unbuckle his belt. It wasn’t exactly easy to get a firm hold on it while his hand slid up my thigh and rubbed it up and down, effectively distracting me and diverting my attention elsewhere. I finally was able to loosen it and pull it from his waist, but before I knew it his hands were under my legs, lifting me off of the floor. 

The leather belt fell to the ground as I wrapped my arms around his neck, still kissing him fervently as ever. He laid me on my back, allowing me to slide up to the pillow and lie flat as he hovered over me. His eyes looked me up and down and he finally spoke, his voice in a rasp.

“God, Allison, you’re so hot.”

My eyes widened at the use of my full name. In all the time I’d known him he’d never done that. Not even in the times that we would get along. Fuck, I wanted him to do it again.

As he lowered himself down, his hand slipped between my legs, his fingers finally making contact with the damp surface of my underwear. He pushed the fabric aside with his fingers and slowly teased the now exposed area with them, dragging them up and down slowly.

“For someone that hates me so much,” he spoke with a low voice, “you’re pretty damn wet.”

Before I could reply, his finger was inside of me, moving at a torturously slow pace, as if he was barely moving it at all. And it was then that I remembered he had that godforsaken ring on; the cold touch of the metal hitting my skin was the reminder.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to fuck me.” A second finger joined the first as he kept up the crawling pace. “Don’t you think so, Allison?”

A faint moan fell from my lips and I nodded my head, unable to form the words to answer his clearly rhetorical question.

“Mm. That’s what I thought.”

He sped up the pace slightly, but was still denying me the gratification that I desperately needed. I reached for his arms and tightly grasped them as he continued to move his fingers. And I thought that ring was hot before…

“Trent,” I breathed, swallowing hard afterward. “Shit.”

He leaned down and kissed me again, muffling my noises with his mouth as his tongue slipped past my lips and tangled with mine. With each movement of his fingers his pace quickened ever so slightly. And with those movements came moans that spilled from my mouth, mixed with his name, their only purpose being to fuel his ever-growing ego.

He knew I was close. He knew he brought me there himself. And because I knew Trent, I knew that there wasn’t a chance in hell that it would be that easy.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers back and eventually out of me. He flipped his hand over and gently grazed my skin with his knuckles, the ringed finger slightly sticking out from the rest. A quiet whimper left my mouth.

“You like that?”

Of course, I fucking liked it—it was obvious. He just wanted to hear me say it. Under any other circumstance, I wouldn’t have dared to give him that satisfaction, but I knew there would be no benefits to it at that moment. Slowly, I nodded, squirming in his grasp. “Yes.”

Then he took his hand away.

I groaned at the loss of contact. “What…what the hell?”

He let out a laugh and brought his hand up, then used the same motion of grazing my skin with his knuckles, this time on my cheek. “Problem?”

“You know my problem,” I replied through gritted teeth, still holding onto him.

“I’m not sure I do.” He moved his hand to my chest, then slowly slid it down to my stomach, but stopped just before he reached my waist, leaving me on edge again. “What is it that you want, hm? Use your words.”

“God, you’re such a prick.”

A grin spread across his face and he hooked his fingers in my underwear. He tutted and shook his head. “Is that how you ask?”

That did me in.

That filthy fucking attitude of his. As much as I hated to admit it, I was weak. It turned me on. I couldn’t take anymore of the incessant teasing, the way he was doing just about anything to delay my pleasure. To make me squirm. So I gave into him, because I had nothing else to lose.

“Finish what you started, Trent,” I breathed, then reached behind his head and pulled him down to me. 

I felt his lips on my neck again, but his fingers remained hooked in the fabric, still brushing against my skin. “You’re missing something.”

A soft moan left my lips again as I felt him flatten his hand under the fabric. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he wanted me to do, but now I was willing to.

“Please.”

The familiar sensation of his fingers—including the ringed one—filling me returned and I groaned as he pushed them in, grinning down at me like a bitch. 

He knew exactly how to move them, how to get me right where he wanted me without allowing me to protest. How to bring me to the edge and make me want

to beg for more. The mere thought of letting him control me like that normally wouldn’t dare to cross my mind, yet here he was, fingers deep inside of me, draining every last drop of strength from my body.

Finally my body gave in and let go, his name spilling breathlessly from my mouth as I fell from my high. He kept the movement of his fingers up, his lips trailing kisses down my jaw. My hand wrapped around his neck and my nails dug into his skin, causing him to suck air in through his teeth.

Once my body stilled, he slid his fingers out, then brought his hand up to his face. He parted his lips, and one by one he licked each finger clean, starting with his index. His eyes never left mine as he did so, and the sight of it was enough to bring me back to where I was before. He hummed as he reached the last finger and leaned in closer to me. 

“Shit,” I groaned. God, he was hot.

He chuckled to himself and brought his lips to my ear.  “Mmm.”

I squirmed in his grasp as he pressed a feather-light kiss to the skin of my ear, then moved to my chest and began kissing a path down to my stomach. He hovered for a moment before continuing down again. He pressed another soft kiss to the waistband of my underwear and he continued to leave more atop the fabric as he moved down.

“Anyone ever done this to you before?”

I nodded my head sharply, looking down at his head between my thighs. Of course, I’d been gone down on. I wasn’t as innocent as I might’ve led on. 

“Was it good?”

“No,” I quickly answered, shaking my head.

It was always the guys who claimed to be good that weren’t. And it wasn’t hard to distinguish the difference between good and bad when it came to that. It was just never great. But for some reason, I knew that he’d be the difference.

He nodded and used his fingers to slip the fabric down my legs, then moved back up and used his hands to pry my legs open. I felt his warm breath hitting my skin as he drew in closer, then his lips lightly touched the now exposed area.

God, was I right.

I’d never met a guy who could use his tongue like that. I didn’t even know where he learned to. 

All I did know was that the same infuriating person I was practically forced to grow up with now had his face buried between my thighs. And it felt so fucking good.

“Fuck, Trent,” I moaned as my hand snaked into his hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging slightly on it. 

A faint moan of appreciation left his mouth and his hands gently rubbed my thighs as his tongue flattened and put pressure down. He placed more feather-light kisses on my skin, sending chills through my body. His tongue parted my folds, sliding up and down slowly. As he moved, his nose grazed the surrounding skin and I moaned breathlessly at the feeling.

My hand pushed his head closer as my body desperately begged for more. My hips writhed against his face and he responded to my movements, squeezing my thighs and grinning against my skin. His lips closed in on my clit, his tongue circling around the flesh as he sucked gently. When he opened his mouth once more, his warm breath hit the wet skin and I groaned in anticipation.

If anyone ever asked me to name one thing Trent Frederic was good at, I never would’ve said giving head.

Until now.

My grip on his hair tightened and his hands slid up and around to my hips, then held them down firmly. My thighs closed, wrapping around his head from the removal of his hands. “Oh, God.”

No guy that I’d ever been with could make me as desperate as I was with him. I felt weaker than ever after giving into him so damn fast. I wanted to stop it—to push him the fuck away from me—but every nerve, every muscle, every bone in my body wanted to keep feeling him. I craved his touch, and there was no denying that fact. 

He kissed another path up toward my waist, stopping at my hips and breathing softly. 

“No, please,” I breathed, brushing his hair back with my hand.

But he already decided that he was going to stop. His lips disconnected from my skin and he sat up on his knees, looking directly down at me. His fingers reached for the zipper on his pants, pulling it down promptly and starting to slip them down his legs. I watched silently as he pulled them off, his underwear with them, and let them fall to the floor.

I gulped, my jaw clenched as my eyes caught sight of him. There was nothing left to separate us anymore. And I knew that we wouldn’t stay apart for much longer.

He pushed my legs apart and settled between them, breathing heavily as he looked down at me. Soon I felt the familiar pressure as he slowly slid the tip of his cock up and down my folds, the action prying a long, weak moan from my throat. I watched as his eyes began to close and he hissed, sucking air in through his teeth. 

“T…Trent,” I sighed, sliding my hands up to his shoulders. “Please.”

He kept moving it against me, depriving me of the gratification I desperately needed. I was already tense—close—and he was making it infinitely worse. The fingers of one hand extended slightly upward and held the back of his head as I took a shaky breath.

“Trent, please, I can’t,” I stuttered, swallowing thickly, “—can’t wait anymore.”

Finally, my pleads were answered as I felt the pressure of him pushing into me. Fuck, he felt incredible. He leaned forward, putting his arms on either side of my head to hold himself up enough to hover over me. I kept my hands where they were, gripping tightly as he found the right position.

He began to move, slowly at first, allowing me to adjust to him. Gradually he picked up speed, his breaths growing heavier as he thrust his hips into mine. Long, soft moans fell from my lips as he moved.

The tag on his chain hung in front of my face, dangling back and forth, taunting me. He noticed my eyes following its path and took it between his teeth, closing his eyes and taking a long breath afterward. He sucked in air, a low groan sounding from his throat after and I tightened my grip on him in response. 

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered, whimpering quietly as he lowered himself down toward me.

He opened his mouth and the tag fell. I felt the cold, condensated metal hit the skin of my collarbone as it landed. He moved his head to the side of mine, bringing his ringed hand up to my face and lowering his voice.

“Tell me, Allison,” he spoke quietly, his voice almost a rasp in my ear. His fingers rested below it, pulling my head toward him as his thumb pressed firmly into my cheek.

“Has anyone ever fucked you right?”

“Yes, but,” I slid my hands up and around to his back, my nails pressing into the skin. “Not like this…not in a long time.”

Almost every guy was the same—devoid of any passion whatsoever, just wanting a quick fuck; so why bother caring about how I feel? Selfish. All they did was take and had nothing to give.

But none of that was true with Trent.

He responded to me with a low chuckle and nodded his head teasingly. He continued to move against me, his breath warm on my neck. The distance between our bodies finally closed as he lowered his full weight down onto me, and a single arm wrapped around me, pulling me up to him by his flattened hand on my lower back. 

I leaned up and kissed him again, allowing his tongue to slip past my lips again and he groaned softly. What I would give to hear that sound over and over again. Shit, every time he does it I fold. 

“Fuck, Trent, I’m close.”

“I know,” he mumbled against my lips, taking a staggered breath. “I can feel it.”

His movements grew faster, driving me up the bed as I gripped him tightly, and it wasn’t long before I felt myself giving in and tightening around him. He hissed, sucking in a breath as I let out one of my own, the noise sounding as a moan of pleasure. His name spilled from my lips—more times than I’d like to admit—and I could feel him twitching inside, on the brink as well.

I reached up and scooped a handful of his hair into my hand, gripping it tight with my fingers. “Trent,” I swallowed, “please.”

Soon, he let out a heavy breath and warmth began to spread in my stomach, eliciting a deep sigh from my throat. The feeling of his release—the sensation of it coating my insides—was nothing short of incredible. I gripped him tighter, my body tense as his thrusts slowed.

“Fuck, Allison.”

The sound of my name flicked a switch in my brain, causing the relentless thoughts from before to resurface and whirl in my head. 

He fucked you, the voice inside screamed. You’re supposed to hate him, and you let him fuck you.

But I didn’t care anymore; I was too busy relishing in the feeling of it all—the feeling of him. The way he was prying unstable breaths from my mouth and leaving my body feeling oh, so pleased. 

And if that wasn’t enough to make me stop caring, maybe it was the burning feeling of him slowly dripping down my inner thigh.

After pulling himself out, his spent body remained atop mine, his chest visibly heaving above me as his head laid next to my own and his face found itself buried in my neck. He pressed a light kiss to the skin, then another, then a few more in the surrounding area. 

“I don’t hate you, Trent.”

The words came out soft—he needed to know I was being sincere. It was the first time I’d ever said it out loud, but I knew that I meant it. It wasn’t until he left St. Louis that I realized the truth.

It’s been a long time since I’ve hated him.

His head lifted and he kissed me gently as his hand rose up to cup my cheek. “I know.”

My hand was still in his hair as I rolled my eyes and shook my head, gently scratching his with my nails. I let out a chuckle and sighed.

“Asshole.”

“I’m not that bad and you know it,” he rebutted teasingly.

A smile tugged at my lips. “Fine,” I gave in, “you’re right.”

There was a brief moment of silence after that. I took the time to look at him. To admire him. His eyes, his nose, his faint little smile—all of the things I refused to get to know before, yet they already had familiarity to me. 

Before I could stop myself from saying another word, my mouth opened to speak.

“Stay with me.”

Without missing a beat, he nodded, then rolled off of me and faced me as he laid on his side. His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me in gently. By then, I’d already shifted onto my side as well, so my back pressed up against his chest once he pulled me in far enough.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he finally spoke softly into my ear.

Another sense of warmth—this time from emotion—flooded my stomach. I giggled softly and smiled gently at the words.

It was then that I decided that I was going to stop worrying about what happened and just let myself enjoy it. Enjoy him. I left my distress to be dealt with in the morning. I was satisfied as long as I got to spend this moment with him, free of regret. So I relaxed into him and let my eyes flutter shut as he pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

“Night, Allison,” he practically whispered into my ear.

But even through all of tonight, something still felt off to me. And it didn’t take much longer for me to figure out what.

“Call me Al.” 

#fanfic #boston bruins #trent frederic #trent frederic fic #trent frederic smut #bruinshockey #hockey #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction

[pathetic-pisces]

I got tagged by @masterkenobi to share my lock screen, home screen, and last song I listened to! My actual reaction to this notification was “😲🤗🥰 omg we’re friends!” Thanks for tagging me, honey! Good luck with the ending of that fic you’re working on!

I’m pretty boring ngl. But you gotta love Prince! 💜

Tagging: @trent-frederics, @nosefacekillah, @gryz (if you’d like! If not, no worries!)

#tagged #I like seeing other people’s wallpapers #they’re always so fun! #and others really utilize the widget things! I’m happy for you bc I don’t have a clue! #I think the Tolkien wallpaper was found on tumblr years ago... 😬

[ahockeywrites]

any prompt with Trent literally anything. I BEG U🙏🏼

warnings: explicit fem!reader, smut! unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it hoes), cream pie bc I can’t be tamed

authors note: so this isn’t from a prompt BUT it’s still Trent and it’s still smutty. Basically, I can see him buying you a necklace with a t on it. t as in Troy? No t as in Trent Frederic 😡😡 like the one pictured below

And then when you’re riding him and hits him in the face, he becomes very possessive and yeah… urm… those are my thoughts and more are below

you ground your hips into trents as you stabilised yourself on his hardened cock. both of you were naked in all your glory except the ring on each of your hands and the silver necklace that trent had bought you a few months ago.

his hands rested on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as you got used to the feeling of him inside you. if you had your say, you’d be going on all the west coast road trips to make sure your fiancé was ready and raring to go for all the games via a pre game blowjob. but that was solely reserved for home games.

when the stretch turned from a burn into pleasure, you knew that you could start moving up and down. large hands gripped your hips tightly, tight enough that there might be red marks if trent removed them, but he didn’t. he let you move at your own pace until you asked for more.

adjusting yourself slightly, you leant forward to rest your arms on trent’s muscular chest, encouraging his hands down to grab the muscle of your ass. he couldn’t help himself if it was offered, could he? his hands wandered over the muscle, helping you move up and down.

his eyes didn’t know where to look. where you were joined, your face as it contorted through your waves of pleasure or your tits. sweat started forming on his brow as he keeps switching between where he was looking.

it wasn’t until your pace increased and something metallic hit him in the face, that he got distracted. fuck, it was the necklace that you wore daily to let people know you were off limits. a simple t necklace sat just above your breasts and it made him almost come on the spot.

he adjusted himself this time to sit up so your chests were flush. the cool of the metallic necklace on your flushed chests was a strange sensation but it warmed up quickly as trent held you up, an inch or two up his shaft, wrapped his arms around your waist and thrusted with passion.

the friction from his lower abdomen on your clit was perfect and brought you to the edge faster than you thought it was. you had held back from release, knowing that it was always better with trent.

“can feel you sweetheart,” he mumbled into your ear as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, squeaks and moans escaping your lips. “come for me, you’re there, i know you are.”

you obliged him as your walls began to tighten around him and the waves of pleasure turned into ecstasy. your teeth dug into the ivory skin below you and it didn’t even cross your mind that someone might mention it at practice tomorrow. eyes rolled back in your head as you started moving your hips once more to prolong the sensation.

trent twitched inside you and you kept the movement of your hips until he thrusted once, twice, three times, spilling his seed inside of you.

“im never going on a road trip again,” he spoke breathily. “pussy too good to leave alone.”

he was pussy drunk, again.

#ahockeywrites #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey story #hockey fic #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey writing #smutty sunday #spicy sunday #tf11 #trent frederic fic

[prettytoxicrevolver]

from your halloween scenarios & dialogue, scenario 31 & 20 with dialogue 10 & 19?? something with trent frederic where he starts off teasing the reader then he realizes shes actually scared so he cuddles & babys her?? 🥺❤️

this isn’t my best but i still like it tbh lol. request for more trent fics! he’s so cute (or any bruins players tbh i’m falling for some of them)

Your eyes glance warily over at your living room window where the rain is pelting violently against the glass. Thunder rumbles through the air so deeply your house shakes and your nerves deepen as a flash of lightning brightens the sky for just a moment.

Trent takes this moment to finally sit down next to you on the couch, long limbs spread everywhere and you turn in your seat to look at him. Your legs are pulled up in a criss cross fashion and you lean on your knees to look at Trent.

“Tell me a story,” you say, hoping your voice sounds relaxed enough that it’s casual and doesn’t convey the true nerves you were feeling deep down.

“Oh, I see. Is someone a little scared?” he teases and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off I’m bored,” you say trying to convince your best friend.

“Hmm,” the bruins player hums in thought for a moment before an idea strikes and he’s turning towards you with a mischievous gleam in his expression.

“There once was a family that lived in a big cabin house out near the woods. At night, the woods always grew dark and eerie as sounds could be heard from the forest.”

As Trent talks, you find yourself regretting your earlier request of a story and realize that he was only going to make your nerves jump through the roof. Your legs start to bounce anxiously, the story turning to gruesome details that will probably stick with you for the rest of the night.

“Now, whenever a thunderstorm like this happens, all you’ll ever be able to hear coming towards you at night is the thump of a peg leg hitting the ground in the woods, waiting to get you next,” Trent finishes the story and you’re staring at him with terror in your eyes.

“(y/n)?” he asks, realizing something was off when you didn’t respond to the end of his story.

“That kind of scared me,” you mumble shyly.

Just as Trent is about to apologize a million times over for being the biggest douche in the world, a flash of lightning blasts through the room and the sound shakes you so deep you jump and a shriek leaves your lips.

“Woah woah woah woah hey,” Trent says, pulling you into his arms so your face is pressed to his chest and your body is curled safely into him,

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You look up, placing your chin on his chest and staring into his soft brown eyes that convey worry and protection and care all wrapped up in one look that has your heart jumping.

Trent’s eyes trace your features, a soft sigh releasing from him as he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. When he pulls back his heart soars seeing the smile on your face.

“Come here baby,” he whispers and pulls you in close, making sure you’re comfortably wrapped up tight in his arms for the rest of the night.

#trent frederic x reader #trent frederic drabble #trent frederic x y/n #trent frederic imagine #boston bruins x y/n #boston bruins x fic #trent frederic fic #boston bruins x reader #boston bruins imagine #prettytoxicrevolver fic

[pucked-bunnie]

prompt list

hi all, I just wanted to post this for a little bit of writing in between writing my longer fics

to request please give me a prompt (you can mix and match or pick just one), a rough scenario or feel or the prompt and the person from the below list you'd like it with. - feel free to send me prompts you'd like to see on the list.

(NOTE: if anything has a line throught it - it will be temporarily unavailable due to overwhelming request.)

who i write for:

nico hischier

timo meier

dawson mercer

alexander holtz

john marino

luke hughes

jack hughes (unavailable - too many requests)

quinn huges

mat barzal (unavailable - too many requests)

elias pettersson

trent frederic

jeremy swayman (unavailable - too many requests)

auston matthews

joseph woll

cole caufield

jamie drysdale

matthew knies

seth jarvis

cale makar

quote prompts:

"Please come to bed" (unavailable - too many requests)

“No, I cant leave you like this”

“Just tell me what you want from me.”

“Don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours!”

“I want you....here.... right now”

“You can rest your head on me, I don’t mind.” (Unavailable - too many requests)

“I just can’t say no to you.”

“Oh, well fuck me, then.”

“Can you zip up my dress for me?”

"I'm proud to be seen with you." (Unavailable - too many requests)

"you forgot?"

"where's my hug at?"

"shit, no...that's not what I meant."

"this isn't what it used to be."

"tell me how to fix this."

“no one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? no one.” (unavailable - too many requests)

"can you please come get me?" (unavailable - too many requests)

"i've got you."

"back the fuck off"

"my tummy hurts."

"I don't want to be alone." (Unavailable - too many requests)

"Just stay on the phone with me."

"Who the fuck is that?"

misc prompts:

showing that they care

how they care for you

remembering the good and the bad

times you knew you loved them

how they show they're jealous

late night talks

after a roadtrip

how you care for them

their favourite thing about you

your favourite thing about them

times you could've been hurt

times you were hurt

times they could've been hurt

times they were hurt

bf headcanons

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jamie drysdale #nico hischier #auston matthews #joseph woll #alexander holtz #timo meier #john marino #jeremy swayman #trent frederic #mat barzal #elias pettersson #matthew knies #cole caufield #dawson mercer