#AX72

[detrredwings]

yknow what they say, save a horse …

#hockey #nhl #montreal canadiens #canadiens #canadiens hockey #habs hockey #habs #arber xhekaj #axhekaj #ax72

[hab-a-nice-day]

—The Montreal Canadiens boys and their pick-up lines to promote Tricolore Sports' game day pick-up 🥰💙😂

#Montreal Canadiens #Hockey #Habs #Cole Caufield #CC22 #Juraj Slafkovský #JS20 #Kirby Dach #KD77 #Jordan Harris #JH54 #Sam Montembeault #SM35 #Arber Xhekaj #AX72 #Tricolore Sports

[hockey-and-timbits]

—Cole Caufield, Arber Xhekaj and Juraj Slafkovský, Montreal Canadiens 🔵🔴⚪

#Montreal Canadiens #Hockey #Habs #Cole Caufield #Canadian Things #🍁 #🔵🔴⚪ #Arber Xhekaj #Juraj Slafkovský #JS20 #CC22 #AX72

[ahockeywrites]

swimwear season - ax72

word count: 4.2k pairing: arber xhekaj x fem!wife!reader warnings: 18+ only!!!! dom!arber, sub!reader, smut, swearing, oral m!receiving, cum swallowing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it as always), butt stuff (please do your research before engaging in this) choking, mentions of a safe word but not used, rough sex, urm I kinda went a little insane with this one… I’m sorry but I’m also not sorry, let me know if there are other warnings I should add because I don’t really know what else to say. I’m sorry, but enjoy :)

authors note: again, apologies 🤭 but I can always write more like the wedding/more of the honeymoon

Those skimpy bikinis and swimsuits would be the death of him, today’s tiny leopard print two piece was no exception, as he watched you frolic about in the crystal clear water. The weight of the gold band on his ring finger felt odd, but the memory of you walking down the aisle in a white dress was one he would never forget. 

The memory of how he pounded into you in the dressing room, bridal suite, hotel room (twice), was also something he would never forget. He was ravenous for you and he didn’t think it would ever stop. 

You turned around so your back faced Arber and he took in the view. Your ass, your back, fuck. You, his wife, covered in his love bites, his scratches, filled with his cum. 

You turned once more and started walking out of the water, breasts bouncing and covered in a few droplets of salty sea water. The two rings on your finger glistened under the sun and as you looked back up onto the private beach of the villa, you saw Arber sitting on a sun lounger with a Canadiens cap on, playing on his phone. 

You waved towards him and he waved back before moving his phone so that the camera was directed towards you. A laugh escaped your lips as you threw your arms out to the side, smiling with all your teeth out. 

The rays of the sun beat down onto you as you made your way back up onto the sand and to the lounger next to your husband. It felt weird to say, you had just got used to calling him your fiancé and now he had a new title. But it was one you would settle into quickly, you were sure about it.

Arber was shirtless, in a pair of five inch inseam shorts with his thighs out to the world. His lap looked so inviting but you were tired following the morning’s excursion, he had you bent over the villa’s kitchen island as you were attempting to make breakfast. The pancakes were eaten eventually, after Arber had put his face between your legs and brought you to climax once more.

The sun lounger was comfy and you settled into the book that you were reading on your kindle. 

An hour or so later, once Arber had dragged you away from your book and into the water once more, the pair of you headed inside to shower and get ready for the dinner that was booked for that evening. Arber had found an Italian restaurant with amazing reviews and was able to get a table booked for sunset. 

He knew how excited you were for the restaurant but he couldn’t let you head off to the bathroom without a kiss. Well, maybe a bit more than a kiss. His lips kissed a path down your neck, nimble fingers undoing the knot at the back of your bikini.

The gentle burn of his beard on your skin was delicious and your brain almost short circuited when his hands moved down your back, finally resting on your ass and grabbing the muscle. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as your husband, yeah you liked that, wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling gently. 

“You like that,” Arber rasped as he continued his assault of kisses down your body, worshiping you. “My wife fucking loves this.”

The ring of an alarm broke the pair of you out of the heated bubble you were in. It was the alarm that you had set to make sure you were off the beach and headed inside to start getting ready for the evening’s meal. 

Arber rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, looking clearly unimpressed. His eyes were dark and full of lust.

“We can skip dinner,” his lips reattached to your neck, starting to nibble on the skin. “Order in.” His voice became deeper, breaths louder. “I know what I want for dessert already.”

“Baby,” you groaned but leant your neck to the side, giving your husband more access to the skin. “I want to see sunset over the water.”

“And I want to see the sunset from between your legs,” Arber replied, sass evident in his tone. “Pleasuring my wife, my fucking wife.”

It was painful to pull yourself away from him but you knew that if you wanted to make it to dinner and not turn up in your bikini, you needed to escape Arber’s grasp. You wiggled in his arms and it took him a moment to realise that you actually wanted to get ready. He pouted and attempted puppy dog eyes which didn’t really work when he was taller than you.

You pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, lips flush with the shell of his ear. “Tonight,” you started, “I’m all yours.”

“You’re always mine baby.”

You swirled the glass of wine around in your hand forming a small whirlpool in the centre, looking Arber directly in the eyes. His eyes wanted to wander. Down your neck to your collarbones and even further if he knew he wouldn’t be spotted. The low neckline of your black dress was teasing him and he couldn’t help think of what he wanted to do when you got back to the villa.

Your tongue darted out to lap up the droplet of wine that rested on your lips, painted a sinful red. You watched as Arber closed his eyes for slightly longer than usual. The plan was working. 

Rile up Arber until he couldn’t take it anymore and wait for him to throw you against a wall and take you on the first surface he could find. It had happened before in Montreal after a win in the playoffs and you knew after that, you wanted it again. Wanted more. Wanted anything that he would give.

“Dessert?” The waiter asked and you shook your head.

“Just the bill, thanks,” Arber replied. You both knew that it would take them a few minutes to bring the bill over so you started a conversation about the plans for the next few days. The plans that didn’t involve you between the sheets. More time spent on the beach, a hike up in the mountains and more lavish dinners with delicious wine.

As Arber was speaking, you took a risk. You raised up one of your feet, clad with a pair of black, heeled Louboutins, and placed it in his lap. The long tablecloth was a godsend as you stroked his clothed cock with the base of the shoe. 

It was something you hadn’t felt the confidence to do before. You’d had sex in public, well, outside of bars, in toilets at friends weddings (that was one hell of an apology to the bride that you had to make). But you hadn’t actively teased Arber like this outside of your house.

You watched as his eyes darkened, gaze flicking between your face, chest and where your foot was currently resting. His hand grasped your ankle, gently stroking the smooth skin. It contrasted with the callouses on his hands from years of hockey. You tried to get him to moisturise, but he never did.

Arber tilted his head slightly and gave you a look without expression but you knew exactly what it meant. Stop being a brat. A small part of your brain agreed with him, but the devil on your shoulder was louder than the angel. 

You shook your ankle in protest, purposefully working over his clothed cock which you could feel hardening. Not like he wasn’t hard for you the entire wedding season. He was ready to go whenever you wanted. 

The waiter returned, holding the bill and Arber passed across his credit card to pay for dinner. It went quickly but you could tell that he was struggling because your foot didn’t stop moving over his groin. 

When the waiter confirmed that everything had gone through and you were free to leave, your husband walked over and pulled your chair out before offering you his hand. His arm wrapped around your waist as you thanked the staff for their hospitality during one of the best dinners you had ever had.

There was a slight breeze when you both exited the restaurant and the ends of your dress started to raise slightly, exposing more of your legs to the elements. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means but Arber noticed you shiver slightly so he slipped off his jacket and draped the fabric over your shoulders.

“Even when she’s a brat, my wife deserves the best,” he commented when you began walking once more. The walk back to the villa wasn’t far and with Arber’s jacket swamping you, you kept yourself nice and warm whilst ogling your husband slightly. The fabric of his shirt was straining slightly with his muscles underneath but you were not complaining, especially not when you knew that you’d be the one taking it off later. 

When the villa came into view, you hurried off in front of Arber, leaving him to look at you in heels and his jacket as that was all he could see from behind. It was a private road so he knew that he could palm himself over his slacks without anyone else seeing, but he couldn’t. He needed you, even if you were in a bratty mood.

The front door had been left ajar and Arber knew that you had taken your key in that tiny clutch of yours that usually just held your phone and lipstick. That fucking cherry red lipstick. The one that had stained the base of his cock more times than he could remember.

He slipped his shoes off, emptied his pockets and walked over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. The top unscrewed easily and he heard your feet padding down the stairs from the master bedroom to the family room. You had decided to make your presence known then, he thought.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted you in a black lace bra with a matching thong and garters wrapped around your thighs. Sitting on your lower legs, ass just touching your heels. There was no way that you had that on underneath the dress. That must have been the reason why you sped off quickly, to get changed. Not that he was complaining.

There was nothing to complain about, not when his wife was sat, waiting for him in almost nothing. Not when his cock jumped when his eyes took you in.

You watched as he walked over to the chair in front of you, cock straining the front of the slacks. Your brain was telling you to undo the pants and get your mouth on his cock, get his cock in your cunt, anything. 

Arber swirled the bottle of beer in his hand as he looked at you, sat in only lingerie on the floor. His muscular frame filled out the chair he was sat in and he looked so inviting. But you knew better than to move without instruction. 

The smell of need filled the air. He lifted the bottle to his lips to take a sip of the alcoholic beverage and your pussy fluttered at the way his hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You knew exactly how those fingers felt inside you, pleasuring you in the way that only he knew how to.

His black suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair and a few buttons were undone, exposing a slither of Arber’s chest. His thighs were barely contained by the black slacks he was wearing and on another night, he would have made you come by you riding his thigh. Not tonight though.

You felt his eyes take all of you in, the way the black lace hugged your curves, the sharp contrast of the lace and your red lipstick that he couldn’t wait to have painted all over his cock.

“Crawl,” Arber demanded, dark eyes piercing yours. A shiver went down your spine, wetness pooled between your legs. “I don’t want to ask twice.”

You meant forward onto your hands and obeyed him, crawling the small distance to where he was sat. Between his legs had become a place where you were incredibly comfortable and it was somewhere you had spent a lot of time recently. In bed, on the private beach, a closet at an event. 

Arber undid the button at the top of his slacks and followed that with the zipper. His skin was immediately on display and that’s when you realised that he had foregone boxers for dinner. He didn’t do it often and it shocked you almost every time he did. Arber just reminded you that on most nights out you went without a bra and occasionally panties. As always, you rolled your eyes at him.

Your husband shuffled in the seat, freeing his weeping cock to the cool breeze. The tip looked a painful red and you watched as Arber wrapped a hand around his thick shaft. He gently stroked himself, watching how you looked up at him longingly, wanting to replace his hand with your mouth. He was in a mean mood tonight, but not too mean.

“Open,” Arber commanded. You obliged, allowing him to push two fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers in the same way that you would do to his cock, giving the tips gentle licks. 

After a few moments, he pulled the fingers out of your mouth and then worked his cock with the same hand, using your saliva as a lubricant. Fuck, it was hot to watch your husband fuck his hand as his eyes trailed down your body.

It took all of his self control to not burst then and there, but somehow he found the tiniest slither and removed his hand from his shaft.

“Suck,” the words echoed around the room but you barely had time to notice what he had said before your mouth was full of his cock. His hand rested on the back of your head, pushing you down so that your nose was almost flush with Arber’s pubic bone. 

Almost. To work him fully, you needed to use at least your mouth and a hand but truthfully, watching his cock go in and out of your mouth was one of the hottest sights he had ever seen. 

The grip on the back of your head loosened and he allowed you to dictate the pace. At first you started slow, but very quickly increased the speed. You could feel Arber tugging on your hair, his nails scratching your scalp due to the pleasure that you were giving him. 

His hips started bucking up, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears started pricking at the corners of your eyes, not for the first time on this holiday. 

A few rogue tears did drop down your cheeks, bringing your mascara down your face.

You loved it, the way that Arber could take control on the ice and in the bedroom. He was a gentleman in public, but a freak in the sheets. The side that only you got to see was one of your favourites, along with Arber in the mornings who woke you up with kisses to your face and neck and followed it up with gentle sex. 

Or the Arber who loved to watch you bake in the kitchen and crowned himself the official taste tester of the Xhekaj household, ensuring that all the baked goods were of an acceptable quality. 

Or the Arber who used one arm to pin your hips down on the bed and used the other hand to rub tight circles on your clit as he buried his face in your cunt. 

But this Arber, brat tamer Arber was one that rarely came out.

“Lean back princess,” you obliged your husband and watched as he jerked himself off, it took him moments to come, painting your chest with his seed, claiming you as his once more. 

You took a finger to the mess he had made on your chest and collected some of the come onto the tip of your index finger. Your eyes met his and he watched as you put your finger into your mouth and sucked off his cum. It made him almost want to orgasm again at how sexy you looked.

“Upstairs, now,” he ordered, using his hand to direct you in front of him.

Arber watched as your ass swayed as you walked up the stairs. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the thin, black lace that sat between your ass cheeks and how he wanted to bury himself there. 

The pair of you rounded the corner and a strong hand came to your shoulder. “Lay down princess, or I’ll make you.”

You listened and rested your chest on the soft fabric of the comforter, feet still planted on the floor. The globes of your ass were on display to your husband and you couldn’t help but wiggle your ass. 

A moan caught your attention, and you turned your head as much as you could to see Arber undoing the buttons of his shirt and fully taking off his slacks. He was stood behind you fully naked, except his chain, in all his glory. 

Hands roamed over your backside, massaging the muscle, moving the material of your thong from between your ass cheeks to the side. 

You heard it before you felt it. The sound of bottle of lube being opened and the cold sensation of it resting on your tightest opening. One of Arber’s large fingers circled your asshole, testing the waters, asking for permission.

“Fuck yes please,” you moaned, knowing that he needed your consent. 

“What do you want baby,” he growled in your ear, finger still skirting around where you needed him.

“You,” your words were breathless, you could barely speak. You were so strung up, wound so tight that any movement could tip you over the edge. 

“Me?” Arber questioned. “Where do you want me?”

“Want you in my ass, want your fingers,” you groaned before he slowly pushed his middle finger past the tight ring of muscle. Your moans bounced off the walls as Arber slowly moved his finger in and out, the sounds of the lubricant on his finger were drowned out by you. 

You felt Arber climb onto the bed as he continued to finger your ass. He caged you into the bed, pressing your chest further into the bed, the cool metal of his chain adding to the difference in sensation you felt in different parts of your body. It was a sight as your tried to arch your back into him but he didn’t let you, he needed to have you learn that you couldn’t be a brat in public. 

“If my wife wants to be a brat in public, she’ll get punished when she gets home,” he whispered in your ear before pulling his finger out of your ass. 

You rolled over onto your back, sweat dripping down your forehead. A pout formed on your lips and you tried to look as though you were in a mood with your husband. 

Arber completely ignored your look and walked over to his suitcase. You watched as he squatted down, appreciating his hockey training, and rummaged through his belongings. He was looking for something and your pussy clenched around nothing as you wondered what it could be.

Your husband was no stranger to using toys in the bedroom, he loved the way that he could make you writhe and squirm when he pressed your vibrator to your clit as he pounded in and out of you. The man could multi task better than anyone else you had been with.

He was muttering something to himself, you couldn’t make out the words but you could hear the jangle of metal on metal and you realised what he was looking for. The butt plugs. 

Before Arber, no one had ever entertained your interest in anal play but your then boyfriend relished the idea. You had mentioned that you had masturbated with butt plugs in before and you loved the sensation. From then, he helped you get more comfortable with the feeling of his fingers then, and eventually his cock.

He would never forget the moans you made when he played with your clit as his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle. How you moaned into his mouth as he pressed sweet kisses to your lips when he slowly started moving his hips back and forth. The feeling of your orgasm and the way you arched your back into his chest and he watched your eyes roll back in your head. Absolute bliss.

“There it is,” Arber exclaimed when he found the right one. “Ass up again baby, you know what I want.”

“Yes sir,” you rolled over and arched your back, pushing your ass into your husbands face. His hand slapped the smooth skin of your butt, giving each cheek a hard spank. It stung, but the pain was pleasurable. You had taken more spankings before.

“It’s gonna be cold, but you already knew that,” Arber explained as he opened the bottle of lube again, coating the metal in the liquid.

You felt the tip of the plug press against your asshole and took a deep breath, knowing what was to come. 

“Breathe out baby,” Arber coached and eased the plug into you as you followed his instruction. “Fucking beautiful.” He stepped back to admire his handy work. The jewel tucked between your cheeks sparkled under the dim lights of the room and his cock hardened instantly.

He was quick to cage you back into the bed, slipping his cock into your dripping pussy. Expletives left your mouth as Arber started thrusting hard and fast into you. One of his hands roamed your back, grasping one of your breasts and using it as leverage to pull your back flush to his chest, the other snaked it’s way to find your clit and started rubbing tight circles on the bud. 

The pressure built in your core, from the sensation of the plug, your husband’s length hitting that spot over and over again and the sustained attack on your clit. Arber knew exactly how to get you to the edge and over it, if he was feeling nice.

“Fuck,” you moaned, leaning your head back to rest on your husband’s shoulder. “I’m gonna,” you didn’t have time to finish your sentence before he pulled out of you and flipped you over so your back was pushed into the bed.

“Brats don’t get to come unless I say,” he said before lifting your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulders. He positioned himself in front of your wanton cunt before pushing himself inside your tight walls once more. 

His hands wandered again, as they always did when you were naked and on display for him. His right gently wrapped around your neck and his left played with your nipple. The extra sensation meant that you twitched up into him and he could tell that you were almost at the end of what you could handle before shouting your safe word. 

“Come for me princess,” Arber encouraged you. “Don’t hold back.” His hand that was playing with your nipple moved down to your clit and started drawing figure eights on the nerves. 

You leant into the feeling of pleasure that started building. You couldn’t say anything, your entire body was overtaken in the sensation of Arber doing everything he needed for you. 

He watched as you gasped and then he felt your walls constrict around him. Stars filled your vision as Arber fucked you through your orgasm that seemed to last forever. You were on a different planet with how he made you feel, he knew exactly what you needed and when you needed it. The strength it had taken to keep your legs on his shoulders had gone as he let them fall down.

Arber was quick to follow on your orgasm as he felt his balls tighten and he shot his seed into you, coating your walls. His large body fell on top of yours in a sweaty tangled mess. His lips found yours once more in a sweet kiss and he could tell that he had tired you out. 

“I’m gonna pull out now baby,” he told you and you groaned as you felt the sensation in your core change from full to empty. “The plug too.”

You moved your body slightly but Arber took the lead and spread your legs to get the best access to the plug without rolling you over. 

“Deep breath again baby,” you obliged Arber as he gently pulled the plug from you. Your body shook slightly at the second change in sensation but you started snuggling yourself into the comforter on the bed. 

Arber walked into the bathroom to clean the plug and then quickly walked back out with a damp, warm washcloth and started wiping between your legs. A smile made its way onto your face as your husband looked after you, even after ruining you. 

In his other hand, he had a makeup wipe. He gently ran the wipe across your face, collecting the mascara that had run down and cleaning off the last remains of lipstick.

“I know it’s not your twenty step skincare routine,” he joked. “But it’s better than nothing.”

You found the energy to run a hand through his dark locks and bring him in for a kiss. 

“If you think that’s gonna stop be being a brat, think again,” you smirked, only to be met with a bigger smirk from Arber.

“Sometimes, the sheriff needs riding darling,” he replied. “And that’s where you come in.”

#ahockeywrites #nhl imagine #hockey writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey story #hockey fic #smut #arber xhekaj imagine #arber xhekaj x reader #arber xhekaj smut #ax72

[puckbunnyera]

Second Chance | Arber Xhekaj

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

genre: angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none

notes: started this a couple of weeks ago and i've finally finished it. the part that took the longest was deciding which hockey player i wanted to use for it.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

Coming to the game was a bad idea. I knew it from the moment the word yes slipped from my lips, but when Mayah, the bubbly girl that sits next to me in my psychology lecture, asked if I would attend the game between the Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs with her after her friend bailed, I couldn't find it in me to turn her down.

In the day leading up to the game, I convinced myself that everything would be fine. That he wouldn't even know I was there. I'm not quite sure if I jinxed myself or if Karma was playing some cruel joke on me, but the second we made it to our seats, right there in the front row behind the Canadiens bench, I decided it was some sick and twisted combination of the two. Regret began to make itself right at home in my head the second we settled into our seats.

As the two teams make their way out onto the ice to head to their respective benches, the crowd goes wild. The arena fills with the sound of thousands of fans cheering and yelling. However, the sound of my own rapidly beating heart floods my eardrums, replacing the loud screams of the fans, as my eyes drift to him and our gazes interlock.

Arber Xhekaj, defenceman for the Montreal Canadiens of the National Hockey League, known to me as my ex-boyfriend, is staring right at me and there was nowhere I can go to hide.

Once upon a time, he was a man that meant everything to me. He was my whole world. We spent a little over two years in a relationship together, happy and in love. Things were perfect between us, until they weren't. What started as small, petty disagreements that happened here and there became full-on arguments that occurred almost every day. While I was putting in the effort to fix things, he was shutting me out. I pinned all of it on stress and the lack of time we got to spend with each other because of his work and my schooling. I tried to wait it out in hopes that things would return to normal, but eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't see the point in fighting for us if he wasn't willing to do the same. I've spent the past few months trying to move on and forget about him, and I thought I was doing pretty well. That all came crashing down the moment he noticed me. I suddenly became painfully aware that I was still hopelessly in love with him.

The insistent tapping on my arm is what finally pulls me from our impromptu staring contest. When I turn to my left, Mayah is buzzing with excitement.

"Oh my god! Arber Xhekaj is literally staring at you." She squeals. "How are you not freaking out right now? He is six feet and four inches of muscle and manliness. I would climb him like a fucking tree if given the opportunity."

The ending comment causes a pang of jealousy to flare up inside of me. I push it away as quickly as it appears though. I have no right to feel that way anymore, as we are no longer together. It's a feeling that I don't want to feel again, at least not when he is concerned.

Not able to come up with a response, I shrug my shoulders to express a feeling of indifference and turn to face forward as the announcer's voice floods the arena.

• ───────────────────────────── •

Despite the Habs loss to the Maple Leafs, my body is still filled with adrenaline and excitement as I walk out of the arena with Mayah. I had forgotten how much I loved hockey. It was how I met Arber. When things ended between us, I forgot how much I enjoyed watching the game as I tried my hardest to forget him.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." I respond. "I think that's the most exciting thing I've experienced in a while."

"Anytime." She smiles. "My Uber is here but I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"Yeah, see you Monday." I wave her off as she climbs into the car waiting for her by the curb.

As I wait for my own ride to arrive, I feel my phone buzz in my hand, alerting me of a text.

From Unknown Number: Hey. Can we talk?

Despite there being no name on the contact, I knew exactly who it was from. I'm about to turn my screen off to ignore it when another message comes through.

From Unknown Number: I know you're seeing this.

From Unknown Number: Please

From Unknown Number: I just want to talk.

All it takes is for that fourth and final message to come through for me to make my decision. I type out a short reply just as my Uber arrives.

• ───────────────────────────── •

A couple of hours later, here I am, standing in front of his apartment door. I'm a ball of nerves as I raise my hand to knock on the door. It only takes two knocks for the door to go swinging open and I suddenly find myself standing face-to-face with the man I swore I would never see again.

"Hey." He greets, voice still as deep and mesmerizing as I remember. "Come in."

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I step past him into the apartment I once considered a second home. He closes the door without a word and then leads me into the living room.

"Do you want some water?" He asks as I take a seat on the couch.

"No, thank you." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady in hopes that I can conceal the emotions that are beginning to rise to the surface. "What did you want to talk about? It's late and I can't stay long."

"I-" He begins before quickly cutting himself off, taking a seat on the sofa opposite of me. He sighs heavily and then tries again. "I miss you."

I freeze instantly at the words that leave his mouth. A mixture of shock and anger forms in my chest. "Arber-"

"These past few months have been hell." He continues. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth."

"I can't do this." My voice wobbles as I speak, tears welling up in my eyes. I stand up, making a move towards the door. "I...I need to leave. I shouldn't have come here."

"Why?" Frustration is evident in his tone as he quickly follows my movements, grasping my hand to stop me from walking any further. "Why can't you just stay and talk to me?"

"Because if I stay, I might do something stupid." I shake my head, trying to clear the racing thoughts that have taken over. "Like..." My voice trails off, not able to finish the sentence as I attempt to get my emotions under control.

"Like what?" He interrupts, inching closer to me.

"Forgive you," I answer, looking him in the eyes for the first time since I arrived. "Because God knows you don't deserve my forgiveness. Not this easily."

"You're right. I don't deserve it," He nods. "But I want it anyway, because I'm selfish and cruel, right?" He punctuates his question with an audible scoff. Throwing my own words from our last argument at me.

"Don't say that like I'm the bad guy." I bite back. "You were the one that pushed me away like I was nothing when I was the only one there for you." My words are bitter. "I've tried so hard to make myself hate you for the way you made me feel. I tried so fucking hard. Instead, I ended up hating myself for failing so miserably. Despite my efforts, I still fucking love you. And it hurts."

My chest is tight and I'm breathing heavily as I fight back the sob that threatens to leave me. His hand grips mine tighter as he opens his mouth to speak.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know I fucked up. Treating you like that and letting you walk out that door were two of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life." He confesses. "I want you. No, scratch that. I fucking need you. And I'll spend every day for the rest of our lives making up for what I did if that's what it takes."

"I waited for you." I whisper as the dam behind my eyes finally breaks, tears cascading down my cheeks. "For two months, I waited for something to change. For you to change."

"I know." His hands lift to caress my face, thumbs gently brushing away my tears. "And I promise I'll never make you feel like that again. I won't take your love for granted ever again."

"I thought you were falling out of love with me and I couldn't take it anymore."

"Never did I stop loving you." He shook his head, a deep frown etched on his face.

"Then what happened?"

"I was scared. You were getting busier with school and I was beginning to travel more. The longer we spent apart the more I began to question the stability of our relationship. I was afraid that, because of my busy schedule and how often I have to travel for the majority of the year, I wouldn't be able to be the type of boyfriend that you need. That you deserve. I convinced myself that it was only a matter of time before you realized that and as a result, I subconsciously began to push you away."

"You could have just talked to me." I sigh. "We could have figured it out."

"I know." He nods. "I wish I could take it back. I really do. If you would just give me a second chance, I'll do better."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll give you another chance, but if you fuck it up, we're over for good."

"I won't." He shakes his head, hands moving to my waist to pull me into him. "You have my word."

"Good." I smile softly, laying my head on his chest.

The room falls silent as we stand in each other's embrace, taking in the moment. After a few minutes, it's Arber that makes the first move to separate us, but only enough to be able to see my face. He stares silently, lips parted as if he wants to say something.

"What?" I question, noticing his hesitation.

"Can I kiss you?" His right hand moves up to rest on my cheek, angling my head up a little more. It takes less than a second for me to respond.

"Please do."

His lips brush mine softly at first, a brief peck to test the waters. He pulls back slightly to examine my face. I'm not quite sure what he is looking for, but whatever he does or doesn't find has him leaning back in. This kiss is deeper, hungrier, more desperate. We stay like this for a while. Melting into each other. Once the lack of oxygen becomes too much, we finally part. Our foreheads remain pressed together, our eyes still closed as we try to catch out breaths.

"I really fucking missed you." He whispers, our lips brushing with every word he speaks.

"I missed you too." I smile against his lips.

"Stay."

"What?" I pull back slightly and open my eyes to look at him.

"Stay." He repeats. "Stay the night with me. It's late anyways. I don't want you going back on your own. So stay."

I take a few seconds to think it over before I respond, nodding my head. "Okay."

Smiling, he steps out of our embrace and intertwines his fingers with mine, pulling me behind him as he begins to make his way down the familiar path to his bedroom.

#arber xhekaj #arber xhekaj imagine #arber xhekaj x reader #ax72 #arber xhekaj fluff #arber xhekaj angst #arber xhekaj fic #arber xhekaj fanfiction #montreal canadiens #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic

[penaltyboxboxbox]

nobody on here has clipped the reavo/xhekaj fight yet so here you go

#I HAVE BEEN SITTING HERE...CONSUMED BY LUST #hockey is so back. sexy men are beating each other up before my very eyes #ryan reaves #arber xhekaj #toronto maple leafs #montreal canadiens #reavo #ax72

[jamesmalatesta]

Sheriff Xhekaj 🫡

#arber xhekaj #the sheriff #wifi #montreal canadiens #habs #nhl #nhl poster #nhl art #hockey #hockey poster #hockey art #digital art #ax72 #laval rocket #graphic design #nhl graphics #hockey graphics

[qrrieterisunnq]

Please any arber xhekaj x figure skater fanfic maybe shes one of the nhl ice girls/cheerleader for the Montréal canadians?

Ice Love - Arber Xhekaj

arber!xhekaj x nhl ice girl!reader Summary: Arber has been in love with this Canadian ice girl since the first game he played for them. When he saw her dancing in a bar with some guy he finally got the courage to tell her how he felt. requested: yes/no A/N: Hope you like it, anon. It was written really quickly! (yesterday and today) Sorry it wasn't sooner, I have so much work with school and everything! Everything I write is a figment of my imagination! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine Word count: 1,04K Warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff, touchy guy, drunk Juraj, Nick and Cole, kissing, mentions of sex

masterlist | wip's

He can’t focus on anything. Seeing her dancing in this tight short red dress drives him crazy. He has known y/n for two years now, yet he didn’t dare to ask her out.

Now, as he’s sitting in the club in a box with his teammates, with a clear view of the dance floor, he can’t keep his eyes off her. Y/n’s moves are so smooth and elegant, yet sexy and alluring.

“Go dance with her!” Juraj nudges his shoulder, grinning at him as he takes a sip of his drink. “You’ve been crushing her for the past year, so make a move finally.”

“I don’t know,” Arber sighs, sipping from his drink. His gaze pinned on y/n watching her every move. “I don’t think I’m her type.”

“Man,” Nick clicks his tongue shaking his head at Arber's stupidity. “She can’t take her eyes off you, whenever you’re in her presence.”

“Okay, but what if-“ he’s stopped by Cole’s voice and his arm around his shoulder.

“No ’What ifs’ just go there, and dance with her!” he says, his eyes already on y/n who’s dancing alone on the dance floor.  The moment Arber moves her eyes on her, some guy approaches her, standing behind her, landing her hips. She turns around an uncomfortable expression on her face.

Arber doesn’t wait any longer, making his way to the dance floor, so he can save you from that guy.

“I said no! My boyfriend is here!” she said, her voice shaky as she tried to get that man away from her.

“And where he is? I don’t see him?” the man says sarcastically, moving closer to her.

“He’s standing right behind you,” Arber says, his voice calm and steady, his eyes locked in yours, the relief washed across her face when she saw his familiar face. “And if you step even closer to her, I chop your dick off!” he carefully places his hands on her hips, pulling her towards him. She rests her hands on his hands, her breaths are calmer than before.

“Oh, tough boy!” he lets out a chuckle, looking into Arber’s eyes with disbelief. “Back off, I had her first, and I can see you’re not with her.”

“And how the fuck you can see I’m not her boyfriend?” Y/n shivers from Arber's deep and irritated voice, that comes from his mouth. His hands on her hips are warm against her skin, making her push herself more into his touch.

The guy just scoffs shaking his head. A mischievous smirk plays on his lips when he looks at them. “Prove it,” he states simply, a cocky smile on his lips. “Prove me, you are her boyfriend.”

Arber looks down at y/n meeting her soft and hazy gaze. She gives him a small nod squeezing his hands. Arber bends down, his nose touching hers, and their breaths mingle. Arbers right hand rests on y/n’s neck pulling her closer to him when their lips meet.

The kiss is gentle at first, but once Arber gains more courage, he swipes his tongue along her lower lip, pleading her for access. Y/n opens her mouth, their tongues dancing in sync.

Y/n turns around in Arber’s arms her hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him down so she can deepen the kiss even more. Arber’s left hand makes its way to y/n’s butt, giving it a tender squeeze.

“Okay! Okay! Enough! I believe you know.” The guy grumbles walking away from them. Arber and Y/n didn’t even notice it, as they kept their lips on each other.

“I wanted to do this since the day I saw you in the rink with girls,” Arber whispers in her lips, biting down at her lower lip and sucking it in his mouth. Y/n lets out a whimper, her hips bucking in his, causing a soft moan to leave his throat.

“Then why haven’t  you done it?” she smirks in the kiss, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“What?” Arber pulls away slightly, confusion written all over his face.

“Then why haven’t you done it?” she says again smirk lingering on her face.

“Oh,” he lets out, causing y/n to giggle at his expression.

“Yeah oh,” she giggles again. “I liked you all the time. I thought you saw the signs and just ignored them.” she shrugs her shoulders her hands scratching on his scalp.

“I-I thought, you don’t have an interest in me,” Arber says ultimately realizing how dumb he was. He could have had her girl years ago, yet he hasn’t seen any of it.

“Well, next time you shouldn’t think and just do whatever your heart says.” She whispers in his lips, kissing him again, this time more passionate.

As they keep kissing, Nick, Juraj, and Cole are watching them from the box with stupid smiles on their faces.

“I won! Gimme the money!” Juraj snorts, reaching his hands towards the two of them. They groan, getting out their wallets and handing him twenty bucks.

“As if the forty bucks were worth something,” Nick says sipping from his bear.

“Oh, they do! I’m gonna put them in the Jar with my bet wins against you two.” He laughs shoving his shoulder.

“And then you’ll do what with them?” Cole asks this time with confusion written all over his face.

“I’m gonna calculate them and see how much money I made on you.”

“What money are you three talking about?” Y/n’s voice interrupts them, a hazy smile on her lips, as she’s pressed against Arber’s chest.

“Oh, we made a bet on you two. A few weeks ago.” Cole looks up at them stupid smile on his lips. Arber cock his head to a side brows furrowed in surprise.

“You two are stupid, really…” he shook his head, kissing the top of y/n’s head. “Let’s get outta here. I have better plans to do.” He mumbles in her ear, loud enough for her to hear it.

“Yeah, and what?” she looks up at him, her eyes sparkling with passion and horniness.

“I think you know, what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know!” she smirks, grasping his hand and leading him out.

#nhl #arber xhekaj x reader #arber xhekaj #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #ax72 #montreal canadiens #juraj slafkovsky #cole caufield #nick suzuki

[fromthedraftss]

#ax72.vibes

[detrredwings]

god i wish that were me

#hockey #nhl #montreal canadiens #canadiens hockey #canadiens #habs hockey #habs #juraj slafkovsky #jslafkovsky #js20 #arber xhekaj #axhekaj #ax72

[hab-a-nice-day]

We all know what [Arber's] award would be. What would it be? Biggest Dummy of All. [Laughter] No, I love Arber. […] He left, actually. We'll bring him back and see what his response is. Yeah, kick my @$$. [Laughs]

—Juraj Slafkovský about his buddy Arber Xhekaj

#Montreal Canadiens #Hockey #Habs #Juraj Slafkovský #Arber Xhekaj #JS20 #AX72

[hockey-and-timbits]

—Montreal Canadiens modelling for Tricolore Sports

#Montreal Canadiens #Hockey #Habs #Tricolore Sports #Cole Caufield #Nick Suzuki #Josh Anderson #17 #Brendan Gallagher #Emma Fortin #Jake Evans #Arber Xhekaj #Kaiden Guhle #Juraj Slafkovský #JS20 #NS14 #CC22 #AX72 #KG21 #BG11 #JE71

[ahockeywrites]

Proof is in the Pudding

pairing: arber xhekaj x ofc!lila rogers

synopsis: Lila lives and breathes baking. It's a passion she's had since before she moved to Montreal. Her aunt runs a bakery in Montreal and Lila has joined Jessica as the main baker, due to her lack of skills in the language department. One day a mysterious man comes in, thankfully not wanting to speak French but English.

warnings: death of parents length: 2k +

authors note: chapters will be posted on every other friday at 5PM EST (thank the lord for scheduled posts) and i will update you if i reach a roadblock or don't think i'll be able to hit my target. i hope you enjoy the first chapter coming soon :)

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 (12/04/24)

#ahockeywrites #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey story #hockey fic #arber xhekaj #ax72 #montreal canadiens imagine

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

every love i've ever known has been drenched in blood; teach me how to unfurl these fists, show me where to put down this knife.

ax72 x reader: the fireman feels like something special.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, oral sex (f on m), biting (briefly, okay?), crying, dirty talk (tasteful but serious. i'm not kidding), just all my typical stuff (and all my usual ax72 stuff - so legs and limbs and size and the like). don't read if you're not 100% sure).

(a/n: my favorites! thank you for being patient with me. for your reading pleasure, may i present to you a ax72 fic in which he is a volunteer fireman and you are plagued with fear and self-doubt! i'm joking, but not really. i couldn't not write something for him after the insane start to the season he's had - penalty minutes leader darling deserves a treat. obviously none of the details make sense, none of the dialogue is realistic, there are way too many dramatic speeches and angsty confessions, but you guys know that at this point. to anyone who may relate to what this main character is going through, please know you are not alone. it is very easy to push good things away because they scare you. but to be scared is to care about something. follow your fear, stalk it, don't let up on it until it leads you to something lovely, something real. pretty please tell me what you think. i think jh86 may be next but i'm still storyboarding. for now, i'm sending you and your snakes every single bit of courage and love i've got. go canucks. until next time).

that first night was cold like an absent mother. cruel and unforgiving, unavoidable.

the cold was weathered, however, but the hushed laughter and bickering amongst your housemates as you all exited the front door, smoke alarms blaring, loud and relentless.

"do we actually have to evacuate if we know there's not a fire?" your roommate asked, covering her ears with her hands.

another housemate sighed. "maybe we wouldn't have to if you hadn't left your curling iron on for three fucking hours."

your roommate grimaced. "my bad, guys. this one is on me."

you couldn't help a laugh as you threw an arm around her shoulders. "we know, sweetness. live and learn."

someone groaned. "it's frigid out here, jesus."

you nodded in agreement. the alarm had begun to sound at just after two in the morning, meaning everyone in the house was dressed for bed, all thin sleep shorts and fleecy sweatshirts, no where near enough to combat the brisk air, which was already starting to make your teeth chatter.

"great. here comes the government," one of your friends said, eye roll evident in her voice as the sound of the siren began to overtake the tamer sound of the smoke alarm.

you and your roommate giggled at her comment as you huddled together. as a polysci major, she had an opinion on everything, including all facets of the public sector. for example, the fire department, who pulled up to the curb at that moment in their truck.

"who's going to do the talking?" your roommate whispered to you.

"you?" you proposed, raising a brow. "it's your iron, hm?"

she groaned, but nodded. "this should be good."

three firefighters hopped down from their massive rig, looking even more menacing in their heavy fireproof gear.

"hello, officers," your roommate began, stepping forward and away from you to speak. your shoulders shook in a laugh.

"they're not officers," you whispered to her.

"hello, gentlemen," she corrected. "i speak on behalf of our entire house when i say we appreciate your punctuality."

one of your housemates hung her head in her hands. another one groaned.

"i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say there is no real danger?" one of the firemen said, his tone steady.

your polysci friend nodded. "correct, sir. your services are no longer required."

the three men now stood just in front of you, allowing you to get a true look at them.

the one who had spoken was older, probably thirty five, shorter than his coworkers but obviously the chief. he continued to speak with your roommate about the situation as the rest of you watched on.

the next in line was taller, lankier, with a goofy face and a goofier presence. he appeared unsure of his limbs, how to keep them still.

when your gaze drifted to the third, however, your breath caught, that familiar but long-forgotten whirlwind in your stomach. your eyes drank him in greedily, the way a child gulps down a soda at a friend's house. so similar, someone in your mind whispered don't tell mom.

he was the tallest of the three, and the broadest, too, his chest a wide expanse, arms and legs practically tree-like in his canvas uniform. it was his face that really had you, though. he was beautiful in a way you had never seen before, in a surreal sort of way. the kind of face that saved you in a dream, that you tried to conjure when you woke up but never could.

sharp jaw, sharper nose, the kind of cheekbones you had seen before only in a museum. full, pink, upturned lips, downwards sloping eyes that made him appear drowsy, like the personification of a midday nap. cheeks made rosy by the cold. even under his helmet you could see his thick, dark hair, so soft-looking. that was it, you thought. he just looked so soft, even though he appeared to be made of stone.

his presence made you shiver, which was only deepened when you met his eyes, dark and clear, found them already looking at you.

something in your gaze made him smirk, made your stomach drop. you crossed your arms closer around yourself, suddenly insecure under his scrutiny.

you hated the not-knowing, wished you could see yourself from his eyes, from the outside, so that you may correct yourself, angle and present yourself in some better way.

but his eyes only sparked with danger, not disappointment. cold? he mouthed to you, so as not to interrupt the conversation. his mouth formed the words slowly, deliberately, deliciously.

yes, you thought, half stunned he was communicating with you, the cold is why i'm shivering. definitely not you. definitely not your eyes.

so you only nodded slowly, felt your eyes widen as he walked towards you, shrugging off his jacket.

you stood, frozen in place, as he held it out to you in one huge hand. he offered it to you, someone he didn't know, someone who he owed nothing to, someone from whom he knew he could possibly receive nothing in return. and yet he offered it to you, regardless.

he was so close to you, now, just a step away. you tilted your head up to look at him. "don't you need it?" you asked, willing any squeak out of your voice. surely he would realize his mistake soon, realize you weren't worth it.

his chest shook in a low laugh. "what i need is for you to not freeze," he said, his voice much deeper, rougher, than you could have imagined. "just take it, darling, yeah?"

something in your mind screamed what do you want? at him in a voice dreary with fear, raspy with experience and expectation. what's the catch?

had you met him before? surely he couldn't be this sweet to you upon just seeing you, upon not even knowing your name. had you lent him notes in one of your classes, maybe spotted him a drink at a bar? you searched for an explanation that never came.

but at that point you probably would have done anything he asked, which you knew was not good. which you knew was very, very dangerous.

which was bad, but true, so you shouldered his jacket on, found it almost oppressive in warmth. "thank you," you told him, little more then a whisper, letting your voice trail off like a question.

"arber," he finished for you.

"arber," you repeated, knowing as soon as the name died on your tongue your mouth would feel empty, would long to form the word again.

he didn't walk back to his former place, either, instead electing to stay just next to you. just close enough to make you feel almost faint. one of your housemates wolf-whistled. you imagined the image looked fairly comical, a massive oak tree of a fireman with an 80's mullet and mustache combo next to a university pre-dentistry junior in pajamas, swimming in his coat.

but you couldn't think too much about that as you gave him your name, tried to keep your eyes trained on his face. a tough task, considering the way his arms looked unobstructed by his jacket.

everything about him was distracting. your heart was racing. how were you going to be able to get back to sleep after this?

"well, ladies, i hope you've learned your lesson," the chief said, appearing to finish a speech you had missed entirely.

"sure have, officer," your roommate said stoically.

"not an officer, miss," he corrected. the shake in his head was telling, made your housemates snicker.

"apologies, sir," she finished, giving him a salute.

"sorry you guys had to come all the way out here," one of your other housemates said.

"no trouble at all," arber said, his first time speaking to everyone. he was looking only at you. melting you like snow in the morning.

"until next time," your roommate said with a little bow, turning to go back into the house, now silent.

"there won't be a next time, sweetness," you amended, forcing your gaze away from arber. she waved you off.

reluctantly, you made to shrug off arber's jacket, hand it back to him as the other two firemen got back into their truck, your housemates walking back inside, leaving just the two of you.

"sure you don't need it?" he asked, the roughness in his voice somehow gentle. his words coming out in exactly the shape of the hole in your chest.

you gave a light laugh. "think i'll survive the trek back," you said, referring to the several steps between you and the front door. "thanks again, arber."

"my pleasure, darling," he said, and your cheeks flushed at the term. this brutal cold, you thought, making my face pink.

his lips quirked in a way that made your stomach flip. a way that made you so suddenly sure he knew exactly what effect he had on you. exactly how little the cold had to do with it.

"well," you said, your hands laced behind you, your voice taking on a melodic sort of cadence. "i guess i'll see you around, hm?"

"hope so," he hummed, something amusing in his tone. something careful. "sweet dreams, darling."

"good night, arber," you answered, dazed and blushy. like saying goodnight to an old friend, to a middle school boyfriend, to someone who knew you too personally to be real.

but somehow, it was saying goodbye to someone whom you had known for only moments.

the truck pulled away, you shut the front door behind you.

"should i just leave my iron on 24/7?" your roommate asked immediately, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. "maybe throw some rocks in the microwave?"

you rolled your eyes at her. "oh, please," you said.

"don't worry," she finished, an impish smile on her pretty, round face. "i'll wait until you're in the shower, next time."

you playfully slapped her arm as you made your way back into your room, not bothering to stifle both of your giggles.

you went to sleep that night with mirages of dark brown eyes and corded shoulders in your head. you swore you could smell smoke, could feel flame, could sense danger.

the feeling stayed with you, settled like ash in your bones. a heat, a skepticism, a want, a worry. you halfway hoped you would never see him again, because when had one person ever had such an effect on you? when had you let them?

you halfway hoped you would never see him again, but as soon as you did see him again, you knew that hope had been a complete and utter lie.

it was only a few days later, in the middle of your serving shift at the pub close to campus. only a wednesday, so nothing too busy, just a regular shift. your regular black uniform, long braid down your back with black ribbon, everything the same as always.

and then he was in a booth, practically taking up the whole bench, his deep laugh at something one of his friends had said making you dizzy.

surely it's not him, you thought as you took out your guest check pad, it couldn't be him. how could you have gone twenty one years without seeing him once, then see him twice in a week?

what trickster god was toying with you, now?

and then you were standing in front of his table, and it couldn't be him, but it was. of course it was.

but you didn't know if he would recognize you without your pajamas on, couldn't fathom that he could have dreamed of you with the vigor you had him, so you went on, business as usual.

"hi, guys," you said, your customer service voice ringing through the air like a bell. muscle memory had you placing napkin coasters down in front of each person. "can i get some drinks started for you?"

you took the orders of the others before finally locking eyes with arber. it wasn't any easier than you remembered. it wasn't any cooler, didn't feel any less like being engulfed in flame. "and for you?" you asked, hating how you couldn't just admit to recognizing him. hating how your mind preferred crafting protective plans to just being honest.

but he upended you, as you should have perhaps expected. his smirk was subtle. "am i that forgettable, darling?" he asked, like it was just the two of you.

the answer was so obvious you could have rolled your eyes, but you just cleared your throat and choked on a laugh, happy to have an excuse to show your delight. the insecurity in your head sighed in relief.

"arber!" you exclaimed, clicking your pen nervously, "thought that was you."

he nodded towards your general figure. "good to see you warm," he said with that rough voice you could feel in your chest like a bullet.

you hummed. "good to see you," you said, not bothering to add a condition.

something he noticed, something that made him smile, therefore something so, so worth the risk. your grin overtook your face all at once, toothy and real.

it appeared to shock him as much as you, his expression suddenly one of wonder, of awe.

you cleared your throat again, rediscovered the other people at the table, went to get everyone's drinks and then ran their food orders to the kitchen.

and you tried not to dwell on the way his hand looked around a glass, like it was kid's toy in a play kitchen, tried not to zone out on his lips as they formed words, not to blush whenever he looked at you.

you only laughed, mumbled a thank you when he joking said this was the best service he had ever had.

when he asked how you day had been, you had just blushed, muttered something affirmative, tried not to drop the glass you were holding, hated how anyone's attention, never mind a man's, could render you so helpless.

it was a whole lot of trying, a whole lot of awareness and controlling your own limbs, your own reactions like a marionette puppet. this way, you guided your arms, lined with plates of food. that way, you led your legs. these words, no, not those ones. no, no blushing, no not like that.

your marionette puppet appeared defective in many ways, many frustrating ways.

it was the slowest shift of your life. you felt oh so tired by the time arber's table asked for the check, felt oh so embarrassed by how hard you had been trying all night, hated how it was impossible for you to hide your effort.

it was all over you. it was in the slight sheen of sweat on your upper lip, in the strands of hair that had come free from your braid, in the way your voice shook when he spoke to you, the wobble in your knees when your eyes met.

you were trying so devastatingly hard, and you knew he could see, that everyone could see. was it terrible, was it so naive of you to hope maybe he wouldn't mind? that maybe the effort would flatter him instead of scare him away?

when you came to give back the card and receipt, his friends had gone. it was only him, taking up all that space in the booth.

he smiled when he saw you. it was soft. he was soft, this marble man.

you placed the check on the table. "there you are," you said, threading your empty hands together behind your back, part of you scared their idleness would lead to reaching for him. "thanks for coming," you added, then physically cringed.

thanks for coming? what, like this was some party you'd thrown?

he laughed, low and gentle, at your expression. of course, he was laughing at you. how could he not, with how you were acting? your head dropped like it was full of bricks as you flushed, as hot shame began to pull at the edges of your face.

but then you felt him take your chin in one of his large, rough hands, tilt your head back up high to meet his gaze. there was nothing but softness in his hands, in his eyes. no judgement, nothing of the sort.

his touch felt like drowning in flame, even in this small dosage, and you knew immediately it was too dangerously good. you swallowed.

when was the last time someone had touched you like this and you hadn't secretly wished they would only just leave you alone?

"thanks for inviting me," he said, playing along with your words so mercifully. "think maybe you'll have me again?"

you nodded, couldn't stop your shy smile. "maybe," you said, your voice a breath.

too soon, his hand was gone, leaving your face cold, lacking.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, quiet and hopeful.

"'course," he said, like he would never deny you such a request.

"i sort of feel like i've met you before," you said.

"i don't know," arber said thoughtfully, "think i'd remember someone like you."

your mouth ticked. "someone like me?"

he tilted his head, just looked at you for a moment, his gaze comfortable in its greed, its genuine appreciation. "why do you think we've met?"

you shook your head. "something about you," you said, trying to figure it out yourself. like i dreamed you up, you thought, are you real? are you sure?

his smile was subtle. "hope it's something good, eh? something like you?" too soon, he was signing his receipt, and then he was up, walking towards the door, to his waiting friends. "sweet dreams, darling," he said, like there was no one else in the pub, in this universe.

if he had told you as much, you would have believed him.

after a moment to catch your breath, you took the receipt from the table, found not only a generous tip but a phone number and a child-like scrawl that read coffee?

your head bowed in delight. when was the last time someone had asked you out? had not texted you deep into the night, at the time when the parties were ending and something much more terrifying was just beginning?

when was the last time you were nervous for a date, but the innocent kind of nervous?

you were that innocent kind of nervous when you approached the agreed-upon coffee shop several days later, at the middle of the day, between your classes.

there he was, standing in front of the cafe, hard to miss in stature and presence.

you had spent a scary amount of time deciding what to wear, eventually landing on what you wore everyday. you gave him a timid wave, were met with a confident wave back.

do i shake his hand? you thought. no, i've worn his jacket. maybe a high five?

your overthinking was quickly overwhelmed by the realization that he was pulling you in close for a hug.

you froze for a moment, your mind short-circuiting, your body uneasy, unused to such casual gentleness, ease.

your head against his chest, his arms all the way around you, you probably could have passed out. your mind mumbled something about cardiac arrest as you slowly hugged him back.

he smelled like the forest, like dull smoke and wooden fog.

"swear you get prettier every time i see you, darling," he said as you both pulled away, his eyes full of sweetness.

you had to close your eyes as you breathed out a laugh, already turning pink. "you sure know how to embarrass me," you said, teasing, trying to recover.

he held the door open for you as you both entered the cafe. "it's too tempting," he argued, smiling. "that blush you get..." he trailed off as if lost in his mind. sparks, smoke, flame, ash.

you knew the feeling.

he ordered some kind of sugar-bomb, practically a coffee milkshake, you ordered your usual flat white with soy milk.

and you were out of practice when it came to first dates, but it didn't seem to matter. he didn't seem to notice the pauses you took to think about your words, or if he did, he didn't say anything.

you learned that he was on the hockey team, that he was a volunteer fire-fighter for the school, about where he was from and his family.

he asked about your family, about your studies, about your job, what you did for fun.

and when you told him how much you loved your pre-dentistry classes, he made a joke and popped his fake tooth in and out, which made your laugh come so easy.

you told him how much you looked forward to seeing your sister, how funny your shift the day before had been, how much you loved your house's movie nights.

he asked about you, and it dawned on you that your last boyfriend had never truly asked you simple questions like that, and he certainly had never cared about the answers.

you had sudden flashbacks, you and your ex in bed, you asking him about his week, him giving you some dismissive response as if you had asked him if you could take out some of his teeth sans anesthesia.

how, towards the end, it had felt as if you were engaged in some kind of corrupt exchange, sex for tolerance of your curiosity, sex for tolerance of you.

the memory sent a shiver down your spine, a wave of shame. you could not go through that again. you refused to put yourself through that again.

through the relentless begging for something, for attention? no, begging to be treated like a person? like a girlfriend? begging for him to just be a little more gentle. yes, that's it. you had gone months feeling like nothing but a burdensome bag of stones he had reluctantly agreed to carry around, and you refused to feel that way again.

you just wanted gentle. you just wanted soft, and when arber waved a hand in front of your face to break you from your trance, you realized it might not be crazy to think you were close.

"you okay, darling?" he asked, concern lacing his expression. "lost you, hm?"

"'m okay," you said, shaking your head. "sorry, just thinking."

"'bout what?" he asked.

your heart jumped at the intimacy of being asked such. of someone wanting to know what was going on in your head.

so, you decided to be honest, to an extent. "'bout how 'm very happy to be here, with you," you said, looking him in the eye. feeling no desire to look away.

his face was so utterly pleased. he looked so beautiful then, the sun drenching the side of his face, lighting him up. "makin' me blush, now, darling," he said, and his tone made you swoon.

"sorry," you said, an instinct that made you want to smack yourself.

"don't apologize," he said immediately, "i know i'll get you back."

talking with him felt just so easy that you were again struck with a disbelief that you had only known him for a few days, had only spoken with him a couple of times. you felt like he was inside of your head, like he always had been. something you had never felt before, something that had you saying yes much too quickly when he asked if you wanted to come skating with him that weekend.

you had never skated before, but you were sure if he had asked you to watch paint dry, you would have said yes, because it would have been with him.

but the rational part of your brain was currently overwhelmed by fear, by insecurity, by the terror that you would lose this great thing before you had ever really had it.

"what was i thinking?" you said to your roommate as you struggled to find something to wear. "i have no idea how to skate! i'm going to look like an idiot!"

she waved you off. "you won't, you know you won't. deep breath."

you both took a breath together, tried to exhale some of your nerves.

the quiet that followed felt like another friend. you sighed, sat down on the edge of your bed, held your head in your hands.

"i can't keep thinking like this," you said to her and yourself. "i can't be so fucking scared all the time."

"c'mon, love," she said, sitting next to you and holding you tight. "what will feel better, do you think? coming home after avoiding rejection, walls intact?" she squeezed you. "or maybe coming home with another person to lean on?"

you both knew the answer. you wanted so badly to act accordingly, hoped your overactive mind would let you.

so, when you showed up at the rink, you made the ittiest-bittiest promise to yourself that you wouldn't let your fear get in the way.

if only you knew he would never have let you. that he could never be so easily scared.

he greeted you with a hug once again, and you held him tighter than you had the first time. "thanks for coming," he said, a spark of a shared inside joke in his eye.

"thanks for having me," you replied immediately, a mirroring smile on your face. "'m gonna be honest with you-"

"please do," he said immediately, and you could have melted.

"i have no idea how to skate," you rushed, "so i'm going to be very slow and probably fall and it's probably gonna get ugly."

he let you finish, an amused sort of smirk overtaking his mouth.

"what's so funny?" you asked, furrowing your brow.

"i think you're funny," he said, simply.

you scrunched up your face. "you makin' fun of me, arber?"

he laughed, then, low and rough and grumbly as he reached his hands around you and settled them on the small of your back. "oh, pretty baby, promise 'm not, yeah?"

you pouted, but rested your palms on his chest nonetheless.

his gaze cut through you. "don't expect you to be good at everything, okay? i'll help you," he explained. "just think it's funny you think anything you do could be ugly. imperfect isn't ugly."

"i'll prove you wrong," you said immediately, although you were flushed already, could feel yourself soften, your walls crumble just a bit.

his shoulders shook again. "promise you'll stick around long enough to?"

you had nothing to say to that. what could you ever say?

and then you were out on the ice, more off-balance than you had ever been, and not just because of the skates.

he held your gloved hands in his, tight but not restrictive, keeping his eyes on yours. you willed some of the steadiness in his gaze into your body, found stability in him and let it flow into you like water. he was basically pulling you, but you were moving, and you weren't falling, so you took it as a win.

"'atta girl," he said when you made a turn, soft, proud, and you could have laughed. surely he knew what he was doing, no?

your eyes darted up to his, found a lazy smirk, found your answer.

you shook your head, continued to push with your legs, gaining confidence, gaining balance. "turn off the dream boy for a second, would you?" his smirk deepened. "'m tryna focus, here."

"my fault, darling," he said, false apology saturating his voice as he suddenly dropped your hands. "by all means."

you stumbled forward into him immediately, your body unused to the ice without him to ground you.

you narrowed your eyes at him, looking up at his face, your palms against his chest, his arms around your waist. "not funny," you said, giving him a playful slap. "i could have broken something."

he shot you a look. "you honestly think i'd let that happen?"

your gaze dropped for a second. "no," you sighed. "no, i don't." a revelation in itself.

he pulled you closer, pressed his lips to your hair in a kiss that singed. so quick, you could have missed it. maybe you would have, if you hadn't been so unconditionally in tune to him, to everything he did, to every breath that shook his chest, to every quirk of his mouth and glint of his eye.

your heart sang at the affection you had been so lacking, had somehow missed even though you had never really had it.

so, of course it was a no-brainer when he asked you to come to his next home game.

"i'd really like if you were there," he said as he untied your skates for you, bent on one knee in front of you.

"then i'll be there," you said, flushed, because it was the easiest answer you had ever given. when he gave you that big smile in return, so genuine and goofy, you knew you would have a hard time saying no to anything he asked. just keep smiling at me, your mind begged him. that's all i ask.

the game came quickly, suddenly, after a busy week of shifts and school and everyday things. before you knew it, the day was here, and then you were in the stands, watching him skate like it was second nature, like it came easier than walking.

you had been able to tell at your rink date that he was steady on his feet, but this was different entirely. this was like seeing him at home, like watching him fall asleep.

and it beautiful, it was lovely, it was so intimate until two players started to fight and you realized one of them was him.

one of the people throwing punches that looked lethal, taking fists to the ribs, to the jaw, one of the people with a bleeding nose, a gashed lip, one of the people with blood running down his knuckles - that was your arber. your dream boy.

it wasn't, but it was you - you were the one throwing the right hook, you were the one doubled over, you were the one spitting out blood. you were equally the one punching and being punched. you had set the flame, you were burning.

was it terrible that you felt a little sick to your stomach? you clutched at the edge of your seat, exhaled a short breath, immediately decided you would rather leave than watch blood run down his face on the jumbotron.

as you left the arena, got into your car, drove back to your house, someone in your head was screaming at you, someone with a shrill, panicked voice was screamed scared, scared, scared, scared, scared and you didn't know how to get them to stop.

why are we running? you asked the voice in your head, what are we so afraid of?

what are you so afraid of?

because it wasn't him, you explained to your roommate at some later time, maybe the next day, after the desire to bathe in silence had been overcome by the desire to tell just about anyone.

you were not afraid of arber, knew there had never been anyone in the world more gentle with you. no, there had never been someone who had treasured your heart so truly, who had wanted to understand you to an almost scientific extent, who had dropped into your life like an asteroid and blown it apart just as similarly.

if not him, then what is there to fear?

what is there to fear, if not placing your beat-up heart in his bloodied hands? what is there to fear, if not the desire to press your lips to each of his cracked knuckles, the urge to know him to the point of no return, the want to feel his teeth on your neck, his fingers in your mouth?

sirens went off in your mind. scared, scared, scared.

scared of you, yourself, of offering yourself up to him, to being devastated by him. scared of being so completely vulnerable, of taking all your armor off, finally.

in the end, you were terrified of how scared seeing him hurt made you, because that meant you cared much more than you thought, perhaps much more than you had ever before.

how come no one told you that as much as being scared for yourself hurt, being scared for someone else, that was real fear, pure and undiluted.

a fear captivating enough that you decided to just not deal with it for days, to ignore his texts even though it hurt like a dagger to the chest.

he'll lose interest eventually, you thought, he'll leave me alone eventually. then, finally, i won't have to be scared.

so why did that admission feel like being burned at the stake? why was some small part of you screaming at you to stop?

regardless, you held fast for three days.

and then your roommate put rocks in the microwave.

so you and your housemates stood in the front yard, the air deja-vu-inspiringly cold, the situation almost exactly the same as that first night.

"what's wrong with you?" you whispered-yelled at her. "how do you accidentally almost blow up our house?"

she waved you off, pouted for a moment. "you know how forgetful i get."

"yeah, i don't know if forgetful is the adequate descriptor here," one of the other girls said. "i have a few more specific words in mind."

"oh, come on," you roommate said to the group as the fire truck siren began to yet again overwhelm the smoke alarm. "god forbid a girl make a mistake around here."

you didn't hear the rest of the bickering, too busy sending up a silent prayer, begging some god, any god to listen. please, don't be him. please, if there is anything good in this world, it won't be him.

but, of course, as soon as you saw the massive figure climb down from the truck, you paled.

there might not be anything good, some voice told you then, but perhaps there is something right.

"long time no see, ladies," the same older fireman said, and that was the last thing you heard. the last thing that any of your senses consumed before all of them were so brutally and totally overwhelmed by arber.

because what was he, if not overwhelming? especially now, after having deprived yourself of him for days? how had you managed that?

seeing him here, in front of you, you had no idea.

because he was here, in front of you, this beautiful oaken man, and his hair was messy under his helmet, and his face was flushed from the cold, and his five-o'clock shadow made his jaw sharper, and you could feel his warmth from here.

because he was here, walking to you, right in front of you, dropping his giant jacket onto your shoulders silently, somehow, somehow he was still that kind, and then he was whispering to you.

"alive, are you?" he murmured, as if he almost couldn't believe it.

and you felt so selfish then, the guilt growing like poison ivy in your veins, up your throat, until you couldn't open your mouth for fear that only three-pronged leaves would come out.

you looked up at him, met his eyes, found them burning but unreadable.

a pause that felt infinite deflated as you struggled for words. "listen, arber-"

but he shook his head, almost looked sorry. "don't think i will, darling," he whispered, the name making your stomach sink. someone screamed in your head. "don't care much for hearing why 'm not worth a phone call."

you were shaking your head before he even finished. "no, no, arber, please, that's not it-" your voice was so close to cracking, splitting apart like brittle wood.

"what is it, then?" he said, and you noticed a quiver in his voice too, a warning, "because i've been trying to come up with something for days, and every option i've got hurts."

oh, good god, you had made him hurt? that alone was dizzying.

dizzying and so, so sobering, enough for you to mutter something aloud about arber helping you turn the smoke alarms off, pull him into your house, up into your room.

you barely noticed the alarms subsiding, him hitting all of the necessary buttons wordlessly on his way up the stairs.

and then he was in your room, and you two were alone, and he was sitting on the edge of your bed, taking his helmet and boots off, crossing his arms across his chest.

"by all means," he prompted. "tell me i'm crazy, darling, please, please tell me i've got something wrong."

you took a breath, set the marionette puppets strings down, finally. there was no leading your limbs anywhere, no running words over one million time in your head until you had the right ones.

it was finally time to set aside the fear, to unfurl your forever clenched fists.

your exhale was liberating as you approached him, not touching him, not yet, but close enough so that you could see his eyes, so that he could see the revelation in yours.

"you're not crazy," you said, the softness in your voice surprising you. "i've been trying so, so hard to make you think i don't care."

he scoffed, ran a hand through his messy hair, mercifully waited for you to finish.

"and i'm so, so sorry that i didn't call, and that i left during your game, and that i treated you like you were anything but special, arber."

he looked up at you then, and you saw a soft spark of hope in his eyes that spurred you on.

it was silent for a beat, and then he reached for your hand, held it in his grip, warm and consuming.

"i thought i scared you away," he said, vulnerable, completely honest.

you squeezed his hand, stepped closer, cupped his jaw in your other palm. "i was afraid," you admitted, and that alone felt like salvation. "but not of you." you swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb. "never of you."

with a single swift motion he tugged you onto his lap, both of his hand on your hips. there might not be anything good, that voice whispered like a gossipy teen, but perhaps there is something right. perhaps this is it.

"tell me," he said, not an order but a request.

you would have told him anything, then, as you reached up to loop one arm around his neck, use the other hand to twist one of his curls around your finger. "i hated seeing you hurt," you confessed, moving your fingers down to trace lightly over the greenish bruise next to his eye, the healing gash on his lip. "you give me so much more to lose, baby."

he was silent, still, so close you could feel his shaky exhales on your hand. you willed yourself to finish your thoughts, refused to leave him anything but completely certain, even if it was hard to focus with him under you, against you, all around you. even under the exceptional spotlight of his undivided attention.

"i was lying when i acted like i didn't want you," you said, your tone every bit as ultimate as you felt. "and i understand if you don't forgive me, and i won't hold it against you, but i promise i won't lie to you again, okay?"

you held his face like it was made of glass. his grip on your hips tightened, eyes bursting further into flame.

"let me convince you," you pleaded, willing every genuine thing from your bones into your words. "you have to believe me, baby, i care so, so much. a scary amount."

and something in you sighed, swooned, when you saw that amusement you had missed creep back into his gaze like a fog on the ocean.

his thumbs rubbed circles into the flesh of your hips as you relaxed further into him. "scary, hm?"

you nodded, peered up at him through your lashes.

"how about this, darling?" he offered, voice a tired rasp. "i'll believe you if you do one thing for me, yeah?"

"anything," you said, meaning it more completely than anything before.

the glint in his eye was dangerous as his grip turned firmer. he gave a hum of approval. "tell me something true."

after trying just so deliriously, terrifyingly hard for so long, nothing had ever come easier. with him, now, the truth was easy as breathing. "i want you," you breathed, running your nails lightly down his neck, relishing in his stifled groan. "so, so bad, arber. need you, please." your chest rose and fell in a hurried breath. had you ever been so free of fear? so buoyant with hope, with courage?

he hoisted you up on his lap, pulled you against his chest until it felt as if there was barely enough air to share between the two of you. "good girl," he said, a rough, low, rasp, and he caught your whimper in his teeth as your lips met his.

his kiss felt like molten iron, like forest fire smoke, like initials carved into a heart on an ancient oak tree. he felt like sun on your face and like drowning, drowning, drowning, this kind of torture one you would happily submit to over and over again.

you tangled your hands in his hair as he groaned into your mouth, pulling you up on his lap until you could feel him, so big and hard under you that you let out a gasp.

he smiled against your lips at your reaction, and you knew there would never be anything so glutted with bliss.

you kissed him harder, with the urgency of a thousand missed chances as he rocked you back and forth across his lap, slipping his hands under the waistband of your sleep shorts, his hands now scorching your bare skin.

"look so good in my jacket, darling," he rasped, "let me take it off, hm? want to see you."

you shrugged it off in obedience, placed both your hands on his chest and looked him in the eye, pleading.

one of his hands brushed your hair away from your face, gentle, soft, as you had always known him to be. he dragged his thumb down to your swollen lip, let it rest there for a moment.

"'f you want something, just ask," he grumbled, transfixed by your mouth. "know i'll give you anything you want 'f you ask for it, darling."

you pulled at his shirt, willed any oncoming flush or fear away. "please can i suck you off, arber?"

his smirk was devastating, delicious. "pretty baby wants me in her mouth?"

you nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips.

"course you can, darling, askin' so pretty for me, too."

you glowed at his praise, sunk down to your knees, admired him as he pulled away at his layers of clothes until finally you could reach for him, hold him in your hand, hot and heavy and just so big, so much so that you couldn't help your eyes widening, your mouth watering.

he groaned at your touch, tilted his head back and scrunched his eyes shut at the sensation of your soft palms on his cock.

you hid your grin, spit into your hands and pumped him up and down a few times before taking him in your mouth, making him moan, almost growl as he gathered all of your hair, wrapped it around his fist, the other hand bracing him against your bed.

"fuck, darling," he rasped, watching you bob your head up and down, "feels so good, so good for me, hm?"

you would have nodded, but instead you were overcome with a desire to take more of him, as much as you could. so you sunk your head down further, until your eyes watered, until air came in short spurts, until you gagged, felt him grow impossibly harder in your mouth.

he gripped your hair tighter, making you moan on his cock. "oh, darling, you want more, hm?"

you hummed, looked up at him through watery lashes, reddening eyes.

"want to take it all, do you?" he asked, "just want me to feel good, is that it?"

you moaned in affirmation, sunk your head down on him again, as far as you could go, relished in his groan, the way his thighs tensed, the way his forearms flexed.

already, your jaw was growing stiff, your shoulders strained, your knees warm from the carpet. too soon, though, he was pulling you up off of him, up from your knees back on top of him, wiping the spit from the sides of your mouth with his thumb, pressing a gentle kiss to your tired lips.

you pouted, wanting more still, and his shoulders shook in a low laugh. "not done, darling?"

you shook your head, ran your nails across his shoulders, down to his biceps, loved the way you could feel shivers erupt under your fingertips.

"i'll give it to you if you ask," he reminded you, simply, because of course it was that simple, that gentle.

you pressed your lips to his chest, his neck, his jaw, bit down softly on his collarbone. "please fuck me," you begged against his skin, "been wanting it forever, arber, need you to fuck me, need you to stretch me out."

in a moment he flipped you so that your hips were angled up to him, your chest against your bed, your cheek to your sheets.

"been waiting, have you, darling?"

you whined, nodded.

"no more waiting," he said, running his fingers through your folds, already so wet, "promise, no more waiting, pretty baby, okay?"

"please," you mustered, the end of the word becoming strangled as he began to push into you. it was altogether too much - every possible voice inside of you screaming too much and not enough in some cacophonous harmony.

his groan was raw, full of relief, release, confirmation. he held onto your hip tightly with one hand, the other wrapping around your stomach to keep you grounded, keep you here as you felt like you were floating away.

the pressure was dizzying, staggering, enough that your breathing was choked, your mind completely clouded, your already watery eyes just barely holding back tears.

you reached a hand back to grasp at his forearm as he pushed further, almost all the way inside of you. you whimpered as the stretch reached a peak, as he stilled, making the stray, warm tears finally fall down your cheeks, hang on your jaw before collecting on the sheets under you.

"so pretty when you cry, darling," he breathed, tight and short as you adjusted to him, and he to you.

"please, arber, just move, hm?" you pleaded. "need it, please."

his embrace around your middle tightened as he began to move in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, almost undetectable.

"so whiny, hm?" he bit out. "pretty baby knows what she wants?"

you nodded feverishly. "just give it to me, baby, please, just let me take it."

"don't know if you can," he said, and you pouted. "don't want to hurt you, hm?"

you clutched at his forearm, began to fuck back onto him, determined to get the motion and pace you needed so desperately.

"want it to hurt, arber, please, please give me all of it," you spoke with all of the greed of a sinner seeking salvation. "need all of it."

he abandoned any qualms about hurting you, immediately adopting a brutal pace, so hard and deep you swore your teeth began to chatter. you bit out a choked moan, grabbed at your sheets with your fist, scrunched your eyes shut at the pressure building inside of you.

his grunts grew rhythmic in time with his thrusts. "feel so good, know that, darling?" he rasped. "being so fuckin' perfect for me."

you hummed in response, gasped when he ran a hand across your clit, making you clench tighter around him.

he cursed at the sensation, continued to tease you as he thrusted deeper.

"like that," you breathed, growing dangerously close, "fuck, just like that baby, right there."

"gonna make me cum, darling," he warned, pressing his palm flat against your clit, the friction maddening. "feel too good."

"please cum for me, baby," you begged, your voice raw, "need it so bad, arber, need all of you." you moaned. "fuck, give me all of it."

he groaned as he came, triggering your own orgasm, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed you utterly and entirely. you felt him collapse on top of you, barely registered him pulling you into his side as you both caught your breath in comfortable silence.

moments passed slowly, thick like aged honey, fragrant, sweet.

he lazily traced his thumb across your cheekbone, down your jaw, your collarbone. eventually, you looked up at him, found his eyes full of something homely.

you thought briefly about how you looked in that moment, what he was seeing - spit on your face, skin probably splotchy and red in places from wear, hair fussed and skin sparkling with sweat.

notably, though, the thought evoked no fear, not even for a moment. because you were beautiful like this, like always.

you exhaled a breath, soft, gentle, and buried some ancient curse with it.

the silence was blissful. eventually you heard loud footsteps on the wooden hallway steps, eye widening as you realized there were other people that lived in this house, in this room.

you pressed a hand to his chest to prepare him. "sweetness!" you called out. "do not come in here!"

"why?" came your roommate's voice through the door. "is there a fire?"

you exchanged a look with arber.

"kidding!" she added, her voice growing more distant. "i'll be in the kitchen. big guy, chief left without you!"

your shoulders shook in a pleased, peaceful laugh. he smiled at you, then, a warm, soft smile with teeth, and what was there left to do but smile right back? "what'm i supposed to do, darling?" he asked.

you got up, slowly, reluctantly, tied your robe from the bathroom around yourself, handed him his clothes. "c'mon," you said, "i'll show you the kitchen."

he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to your lips before tugging on his clothes, grabbing his helmet.

i'll show you everything went unsaid by you, but not misunderstood by him.

he held your bedroom door open, holding your gaze with a goofy grin. "after you," he rasped.

you bowed past him and wordlessly told the picture frames in the hallway to behave, we have guests.

fin.

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You’re so familiar to me- AX72

He’s actually the sexiest man in the nhl

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You can't believe you have to see him every day. Arber Xhekaj, your ex-boyfriend, is now your hockey coach for the girls' hockey team. When you first heard the news, you were over the moon. You thought it was a sign that he still cared about you and wanted to be a part of your life. But as you started attending practices and games, you quickly realized that couldn't be further from the truth.

Arber always finds ways to keep you off the ice. He gives you fake chores to do during practice, or he singles you out during drills, making sure you're the last one to participate. You can tell he doesn't want you there on the ice, and it cuts you like a knife. It's like he's punishing you for something you didn't even do.

You try to approach him about it, to ask him why he's doing this to you, but he always brushes you off, telling you it's for your own good. You know he's lying, but you don't know what to do. You're so hurt and angry that you can't think straight.

One day, after practice, you're in the locker room, changing out of your gear. You're sullen and quiet, not really talking to anyone. One of your teammates, Sarah, notices and asks if you're okay.

You try to put on a brave face and tell her you're fine, but she doesn't buy it. "You've been acting weird ever since practice started. What's going on?"

You shake your head, not wanting to get into it. But Sarah persists. "Come on, you can talk to me. I'm your friend."

You look at her, and you can tell she's genuine. She cares about you, and you feel like you can trust her. So, you take a deep breath and spill everything. How Arber has been treating you, how he always finds ways to keep you off the ice, and how it's driving you crazy.

Sarah listens intently, nodding along as you talk. When you're finished, she puts a hand on your shoulder. "Wow, I had no idea. That's really messed up."

You nod, tears stinging your eyes. "I don't know what to do. I just feel so...worthless."

Sarah looks at you, her eyes softening. "You're not worthless, not even close. You're an amazing player, and you deserve to be on that ice as much as anyone else. I'll talk to Arber, see if we can't work something out."

You're grateful for her offer, but you don't hold out much hope. From what you know, Arber is stubborn and doesn't like to be told what to do. That was part of the reason you two broke up those few years back. But you let Sarah go, hoping that something positive will come out of this.

Days go by, and you start to feel more and more isolated. Your once-close relationship with Arber is now non-existent, and you feel like you're the odd one out on the team. Your mind goes to dark places, wondering if you should just quit the team altogether and spare yourself the pain.

But then, something unexpected happens. Arber pulls you aside after practice and tells you he wants to talk. You're hesitant, not sure what he's going to say. But you follow him to his office, wondering what's going on.

When you get there, he motions for you to take a seat. He sits across from you, his hands folded in his lap. "I owe you an apology," he starts, his voice quiet.

You're surprised. You've never heard him apologize before. "For what?"

"For how I've been treating you," he says, his gaze steady. "I know it's not fair, and I know it's not right. But...I can't stand to see you on that ice, happy without me. It tears me apart, and I don't know how to handle it."

You're taken aback. You had no idea that he still had feelings for you. "Arber, I...I didn't know. I thought you hated me or something."

He shakes his head. "No, I could never hate you. I just...I don't know how to deal with my emotions sometimes."

You nod, understanding what he means. "I get that. But you can't keep punishing me for something I didn't even do."

He looks at you, his gaze intense. "I know. And I promise I'll try to be better. I want to be your coach, but I also want to be your...friend. If that's something you're open to."

You look at him, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. You know it won't be easy with him, but you also know that you miss him too. So, you nod, reaching across the table to take his hand. "I'm willing to try."

He smiles, relief crossing his face. "Thank you. And...I'm sorry."

You smile back, feeling a sense of relief yourself. "Me too. But we can work through this. Together."

As you leave his office, you feel a sense of hope for the first time in a long time. You know it won't be easy, but you're willing to try. For the team, and for yourself.

After practice later that evening, you were pushed the the edge. Tired and upset about how you played. You sat alone in the locker-room after everyone had left.

The door swung open as Arber walked into the empty locker room , searching for you. He knew you didn’t leave with any of the other girls. He spotted you immediately, dressed in your regular clothes, sitting quietly with your head down. The sight of you sent a wave of different emotions through him. He felt guilty for how things ended between you and him and wanted to make amends.

As he approached you, he could see the tears welling up in your eyes. You hadn’t noticed him yet. “Hey” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Tough practice today, I understand.” He said, sitting next to you on the bench. You moved over slightly so your thighs no longer touched.

“it’s not that.”

You sniffled and wiped away your tears, turning to face him. Your eyes locked and for a moment, everything around you both seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you and the weight of your past hung heavily in the air.

“I miss you.” You spoke suddenly, “I cant stand to sit here- or on the bench out on the ice. Have you as my coach and not miss what we had. It’s so hard.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Arber slide closer, unable to resist the pull of your gaze. His hand reached out and brushed the hair from your face, his thumb tracing delicate circles on your cheek.

With every touch, the tension between you grew thicker. You were both trembling with desire and regret, wanting to take back all the hurtful words you had spoken and the moments they had missed in the past two years.

Unable to hold back any longer, He pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as if you never wanted to let go. All the pent-up feelings surfaced and it was clear you both needed this moment.

Breaking apart, you looked at each other, both breathless. There wasn’t much talking needed, you knew what you wanted and nothing would ever be the same again. Arber leads you to one of the lockers and presses you against it, kissing you passionately while running his hands over your body.

Your fingers grabbed onto the front of his jeans, pulling him even closer to you. You continued to kiss, your bodies pressed together, until you couldn’t contain yourselves anymore, tearing off pieces of cloth, exposing skin underneath. This time, there will be no holding back.

The sensation of skin on skin sends shivers down your spines, it’s been so long since either of you have felt this way. Arber lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you to his office.

He sets you down on his desk, not really caring about anything except being inside of you. You are right there with him, taking charge, guiding his lips, his hands, everywhere else.

It doesn’t matter who walks in or what anyone thinks because for those few stolen moments, you are the only two people in the world. You reach up, running your fingers through his dark hair as he kisses your neck, your breasts, your hips. Everywhere he can reach, he explores, it’s been years so he takes time learning every inch of you all over again.

As he slips inside of you, it feels like a homecoming. This is where you were meant to be, finally, after all these weeks of denying your feelings and hiding from each other, him hating you. Nothing matters now besides the rush of pleasure that threatens to consume you both. You move together, faster and slower, switching positions, experimenting, trying new things.

In missionary, Arber holds you close as he gazes deeply into your eyes, showering you with sensual kisses and caresses, whispering endearments in your ear, calling you beautiful and telling you exactly how good it feels to have you. His movements are slow and methodical, building an intensity that shakes you both to the core.

Arber’s breathing deepens, becoming more erratic as he approaches climax. The tension in his muscles increases, straining against yours as waves of ecstasy roll through his body. With a short cry of release, he reaches the peak of pleasure, his semen spurting out in powerful bursts as he collapses onto you, spent and satisfied.

“i’m not finished with you yet”

Each thrust is slow and deliberate, the power behind them increasing with each stroke. He adjusts his angle, hitting your sweet spot with precision, sending shockwaves throughout your body. The friction between you both becomes almost too much to bear, and you gasp for air, begging him to keep going.

Words fail you as you experience an intense orgasm, leaving you unable to form coherent sentences. Moans and groans escape your lips instead, accompanied by wild, uncontrollable movements as your body trembles. Despite being unable to talk, you manage to convey just how much you love this intimacy with Arber.

Your nails dig into his back, your hips grind against him, and your voice cries out his name over and over again. As your body convulses with orgasm, a loud scream escapes your lips and tears stream down your face. You feel like you’re drowning in pleasure, unable to stop or control yourself.

“And you wonder why I tried to keep my distance.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks and hold your head close to his bare chest.

“Because of this?”

“I’ve wanted to do this since I found out you were on this team. If I didn’t send you away to do stupid things during practice I would’ve tore your gear off right then and there and fucked you in front of everyone.”

“Oh.” You breathlessly chuckled.

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