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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

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goal // hockey!chris

summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game

part two

“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2.

I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie.

I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention.

I love you.

I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent.

In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed.

“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game.

I nod, trying my best not to distract him.

We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.

We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands.

We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games.

Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout.

I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.

“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me.

My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off.

A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other.

“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says.

I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player.

I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots.

“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”

I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point.

With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart.

“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me.

Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight.

Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet.

My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw.

“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”

Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger.

“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch.

“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart.

I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”

I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay.

About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering.

“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag.

I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me.

I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.

“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid.

Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”

I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game.

When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face.

He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head.

“What happened?”

He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.”

I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in.

“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”

I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”

He shakes his head.

“Tell me,” I plead.

“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”

“I want to know what he said!”

“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“Yes!” I argue.

“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”

I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me.

Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag.

He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth.

“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.”

I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water.

“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly.

“I’m not surprised.”

“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”

We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.

“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”

He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”

He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

“I know.”

“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.”

“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”

He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”

A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”

His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”

I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

#sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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justlemmeadoreyou · 3 days

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intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

summary: harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension?

words: 6k

warnings: smut, fluff. p in v sex (on the ice rink 🤭), kissing, dirty talk, cursing, creampie.

Harry tied the laces on his hockey skates tightly. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of practice. He could hear sounds coming from the rink - ice being scraped by skates, pucks hitting the boards, the coach's whistle. Harry gave his laces one final tug before grabbing his stick.

He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. The chilly air made goosebumps form on his arms. The rink was like a second home to him. Hockey wasn't just a sport - it was a huge part of who he was.

"Harry! Get out here!" one of his teammates yelled from the rink. They had already started drills.

Harry grinned and headed out of the locker room. The cold air hit his face. He breathed it in deeply. The icy smell, the rubber pucks, the sweaty aroma - it all felt comforting to Harry. To others it might smell bad, but to him it smelled like the game he loved.

Harry stepped onto the ice and immediately relaxed. Gliding across the smooth surface, he fell in line with his teammates. They were doing intense drills - racing across the ice, passing pucks back and forth. Harry focused hard, practicing his puck handling, skating agility, and wrist shots.

"Keep it up, Styles! Work hard and you'll make it to the big leagues one day!" Coach Bradford yelled from the bench in his gravelly voice.

Motivated, Harry accelerated with a burst of speed. He weaved through cones and ripped slapshots on goal. By the end, he was drenched in sweat, hair matted to his forehead.

Finally, the coach's whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Harry stayed out, picking up scattered pucks, while his teammates headed off the ice. Their skates dug trenches as they went.

"Coming for pints later, Styles?" one of the guys called out to him with a grin.

"Think I'll stay and get some more practice in," Harry replied, already lining up pucks.

His friend chuckled and shook his head. "Course you will, ya hockey nut!"

Harry smiled to himself as he readied his stance at the face-off circle. He took some calming breaths, then launched slapshot after slapshot. Hockey was his happy place.

Suddenly, the sound of classical music echoed through the rink. Harry looked up, distracted, and saw a figure gliding onto the ice. It was Y/N, looking like an ethereal vision in her shimmery white skating outfit.

Harry had seen Y/N around the rink before, but had never really paid attention. Now, he found himself utterly transfixed as she began gracefully spinning and leaping across the ice. Her every move was mesmerizing.

From his side of the rink, Harry gaped at Y/N in awe. He gripped his stick tightly as she performed effortless jumps and intricate spins. Her dance across the ice was like a carefully choreographed masterpiece.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. He watched, slack-jawed, as she launched herself into a triple lutz, rotating three times in the air before landing smoothly. Her practice was spellbinding.

Y/N finally caught Harry staring at her from across the way. A flush spread over her cheeks, obvious even from a distance. She looked surprised to have an audience.

The tension broke when a rogue puck trickled across the ice, coming to a stop by Y/N's skates. She glanced down at it, then back at Harry.

"S-Sorry, didn't mean to bother you," Harry called out, feeling sheepish.

But Y/N just gave him a shy smile that dazzled him. "No worries, the rink's for sharing."

And just like that, the Hockey stud and the figure skating beauty shared their first interaction and smiles across the expanse of frozen ice.

Over the next few nights, Harry intentionally stayed late after hockey practice. Sure enough, Y/N was always there too, gracefully practicing her routines to soaring instrumental music.

At first they kept their distance, staying on opposite sides of the rink. They exchanged polite hellos and "excuse me's" anytime they ventured close.

But Harry couldn't resist furtively watching Y/N whenever she attempted a jump or spin. The way she commanded the ice captivated him. Her movement was powerful yet delicate, athletic yet graceful.

For her part, Y/N tried not to overtly gape at Harry as he drilled his hockey skills. But it was difficult to ignore his intensity and ferocity as he powerfully strode across the ice, ripping slapshots or stickhandling between cones.

Little by little, over those next evenings together, Harry and Y/N started making small adjustments. They angled their practices closer and closer to the center of the rink. Neither commented on it, but some unseen force seemed to be drawing them in from opposite ends.

One night, as Y/N spun directly in front of where Harry prepped pucks, he gasped audibly. "Wow..."

Y/N looked up, making accidental eye contact. Their gazes locked and she couldn't help but give him a tiny, coy smile before whipping around seamlessly into her next spin sequence.

Mesmerized, Harry felt his heart thump in his chest. He knew firsthand how much work went into athletic excellence like Y/N's skating. But there was also an indescribable artistry to the way she moved in tune with the music. It was spellbinding.

Harry was shaken from his trance by a puck smacking his shinguards. "Earth to Styles! You still with us, mate?" one of his teammates chirped with a grin from the bench.

Embarrassed to be caught ogling, Harry just sheepishly rubbed his neck. Over the past week of sharing the rink with Y/N, he had definitely lost some focus during team practices.

He took a steadying breath and refocused on drills with renewed intensity. But even as he rejoined his linemates, he couldn't stop sneaking peeks through the corner of his eye at the lithe figure skater.

Later, just as the music crescendoed to a finish, Harry heard the distinct whisper of skates approaching him. He turned to find Y/N gliding to a stop nearby, cheeks delicately flushed from exertion and wispy hairs stuck to her neck with perspiration.

"You have really great puck control," she remarked shyly.

Harry's mouth went a little dry at her proximity and floral scent mixing with the icy air. "Th-thanks. And your skating is just...amazing."

Y/N let out a tinkling laugh at his flustered words. "Actually, I was going to ask if maybe you could give me some hockey tips sometime? It could really help with my edgework and connecting to the ice."

"Yeah, seriously? Of course!" Harry eagerly agreed before she even finished asking. He would've said yes to virtually any request to spend more time around this entrancing girl. "But uh, I should warn you...I'm a pretty intense coach," he added with a lopsided grin.

Y/N just playfully rolled her eyes. "I can definitely handle you."

She skated backwards a few strides, flashing him a brilliant smile that made his heart flutter. "So I'll see you out here again tomorrow night then...Coach?"

Harry nodded, unable to contain his own wide smile. "It's a date."

A strange new energy seemed to crackle between them in the cold rink air. Harry's gaze lingered on Y/N as she glided off elegantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic sway of her hips beneath her gossamer skating skirt.

As soon as she disappeared into the locker room, Harry let out a long exhale he didn't realize he'd been holding. He felt completely bewitched by this girl - her beauty, her talent, her effortlessly disarming presence.

For years, hockey had been Harry's sole obsession, his all-consuming priority. But in this moment, he could feel another obsession taking hold - one with this sublime, mysterious figure skater who had seemingly materialized into his life.

Gathering up the scattered pucks, Harry definitely sensed that tomorrow's "hockey lesson" was bound to be interesting...

***

The next evening, Harry arrived at the rink extra early, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. His stomach was doing bizarre somersault twists - an unusual sensation for him before stepping out onto the ice. Normally the rink was his haven, the one place he felt most at home and at peace. But tonight, he was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.

Harry had been distracted all day, struggling to focus during classes and his morning workout at the gym. Tonight's private "lesson" with Y/N kept replaying over and over in his mind like a maddeningly catchy song stuck on repeat. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the prospect of helping her with hockey drills made him so jittery. It's not like he'd never tutored teammates or younger players before.

But something about the thought of being alone on the ice with the lithe, beautiful figure skater sent Harry's heart fluttering in a way he'd never experienced. Usually so self-assured and confident, Harry was uncharacteristically self-conscious as he laced up his skates tonight. He fussed over making sure his wild chestnut hair didn't look too disheveled, and discreetly applied some of his musky cologne before leaving the locker room.

Stepping out onto the dimly-lit rink, Harry gave himself a little pep talk to quell his inexplicable nerves. "Come on, Styles, get it together. It's just a bloody skating lesson, for fuck's sake. You've been playing hockey since you could walk! What's there to be nervous about?"

But then his breath hitched as he spotted Y/N already out on the ice, gently coasting along with her arms hugged around herself. She seemed to almost glow in the soft lighting, a breathtaking vision in her sleek athletic attire that clung to every tantalizing curve. Her lithe form effortlessly flowed with each stride across the smooth ice.

Sensing she wasn't alone anymore, Y/N slowed to a stop and turned to face Harry with a shy smile. "Oh! Hey there, Coach. Shall we get started then?"

"Y-Yeah, of course! Let's do this," Harry replied with an overcompensating bravado, giving his head a little shake as if to dispel his nerves.

Y/N giggled at his awkward bravado, the tinkling sound making Harry's heart skip a beat. "Don't look so tense! It's just me."

Her teasing only made Harry feel more flustered as a smile tugged at his lips. "Exactly. It's...just you."

They both let those words hang there heavy between them for a moment, their eyes locked together across the wide ice. Then, as if through unspoken agreement, they simultaneously broke into laughter at their own silly tension.

"Right, okay then! Let's start with some basic stickhandling and power skating drills," Harry finally announced in his best "coaching" voice, scooping up a few pucks.

"Lead the way, Coach Styles!" Y/N gamely agreed with a grin.

For the next little while, some of Harry's nerves settled as he fell back into that familiar pattern of running drills, feeling assured and authoritative in his element. He put Y/N through a series of intense stickhandling routines - dribbling the puck between complicated cone patterns, making tight turns while handling the puck in circles, deking around obstacles with fast crossovers.

To her credit, Y/N worked diligently and didn't complain once, even when sweat began dampening her brow. Her exceptional skating prowess and coordination definitely helped her pick up hockey skills quickly. But the occasional fumbles and slips still drew some gentle teasing from Harry.

"Not quite, figure skater! You've got to keep your edges lower on crossovers," he tutted, flashing her a smirk as she wobbled slightly after messing up a pivot.

"Oh do forgive me, your Highness! Some of us don't have as much practice making aggressive cuts back and forth, you know!" she shot back with a laugh, planting her hands on her hips.

"No excuses, no excuses! How else are you gonna improve?" Harry quipped, skating lazy circles around Y/N while she caught her breath. His gaze kept drifting down to the sheen of sweat glistening along the graceful curve of her neck.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter, with Harry analyzing her form and gently course correcting when needed. For her part, Y/N chirped right back and seemed utterly unafraid to get a little sassy with her "coach."

At one point, after completing a rapid succession of puck handling sequences, Harry noticed a few loose strands of Y/N's hair had escaped her French braid to stick damply against her flushed face and neck. Before he could even really process the impulse, Harry found himself reaching out to gently brush the damp locks behind her ear.

Both of them froze at the sudden intimate gesture. Harry opened his mouth to quickly apologize for the overstep. But the words died in his throat when he glanced up and found Y/N gazing at him through hooded lids, her coy smile and flushed cheeks making his heart restart with a hard thud.

"I, uh...think you're ready to move on to some shooting drills now," Harry rasped in a low tone, reluctantly taking a step back and scooping up a few pucks.

They settled into the familiar rhythm of Harry rapidly feeding Y/N pucks while she whipped shot after shot towards the empty net. Her skating power and edgework were superb as she leaned into the lightning-fast wristers, putting her full body weight behind every blistering attempt on goal.

But as the drill progressed, Harry could see Y/N's form gradually getting sloppier as fatigue set in. Her shots lost some of their zip, her tight core beginning to hunch over. When one weak wrister fluttered harmlessly wide of the net, Harry blew his whistle to pause the action.

"Take a break for a minute, get some water," he urged in a tone much gentler than his usual coaching bark. Harry skated over to the bench and grabbed his own water bottle, downing a long pull. He watched Y/N do the same out of the corner of his eye as she bent over, those same wispy strands of hair falling to curtain her flushed face once more.

As she straightened back up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat at the way Y/N's tight athletic top clung to her curves, damp with perspiration. He subconsciously licked his lips, feeling his mouth go dry with a sudden burst of dizzying arousal. Quickly looking away, Harry scrubbed a hand through his wild locks and cleared his throat roughly.

"Not bad at all for your first go with hockey drills. You've definitely got the fundamentals down pat."

Y/N shot him a radiant smile, seeming utterly unaware of the effect she was having on her coach as she smoothed back her sweaty hair. "Well, I do have an awfully good teacher pushing me hard."

"Don't sell yourself short," Harry countered, feeling his pulse spike at her playful flirtiness. He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice still came out a bit lower and rougher than intended. "Your strong core, killer edges, and flexibility from skating give you a really solid base for hockey skills."

"Why Coach Styles, are you saying I have...a killer body?" she teased, enjoying how flustered she could make the supremely confident hockey stud.

Harry's jaw dropped open, her boldness utterly disarming him. "I-I, well I didn't...that's not exactly what I-"

But Y/N just giggled and skated backward, waving him off. "I'm just joking around! Let's keep going, yeah? But maybe take it a little easier since it's my first time handling your...stick."

She drew out the last two words with a salacious wink, throwing Harry completely off his game. His face reddened instantly, sputtering incoherently as an entirely different kind of tension suddenly clung thick in the air between them.

Seeming to realize she'd flustered her coach a bit too much, Y/N reigned in her playful teasing with an apologetic smile. "Too far?"

"No! No, it's...it's all good. Just caught me off guard is all," Harry said quickly, giving his head a little shake to clear it as a lopsided grin formed. Two could play at this flirtatious game. "Let's just say I'm happy to give you a few pointers on stick handling whenever you need it."

Y/N sent him an exaggerated wink, taking her position again. "Looking forward to it, Coach."

And just like that, the heavy undercurrent of sexual tension dissipated again as they refocused on their drills. But it was like a lingering spark had been lit between them, little flirty moments flickering to life occasionally as the practice session wore on.

At one point, Harry skated past closely behind Y/N to scoop up a rogue puck, making sure his firm chest brushed along her back ever-so-slightly. He definitely didn't miss the shiver that licked down her spine at the brief contact, even in the chill of the rink.

Another time, as he demonstrated a proper shooting stance with a high wrist shot, Y/N sidled up to his side. "Like this?" she murmured huskily, purposely pressing her lithe body flush against Harry's sculpted torso as she mimicked his firing motion.

Harry gulped thickly at their sudden intimate proximity, feeling his breath quicken. "Y-Yeah, just like that..." he rasped out, unable to tear his gaze from the delicate slope of Y/N's neck just inches away.

Oh, the smell of ice mixed with her intoxicating perfume, all he wanted to do was take a bite.

With a wicked grin, Y/N slowly extracted herself from Harry's personal space, leaving the poor guy almost dizzy and aching for her warmth again. This girl was going to be the death of him.

After nearly two hours of rigorous back-and-forth drilling, skating lap after lap across the rink, they were both finally drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Y/N paused for a long pull from her water bottle before tossing it aside carelessly and gliding right up to Harry with a gleam in her eye.

"I've got one last request for my hockey tutor..." she said in a low, sultry tone as she drew closer and closer until the heat of her body mingled with Harry's.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart thundering beneath his sweat-soaked jersey. "Y-Yeah? What's that?"

With a sly grin, Y/N reached out and boldly rucked up the hem of Harry's jersey until it bunched up beneath his armpits. Then she openly raked her heated gaze over every toned inch of his sculpted abdomen and chest now deliciously exposed.

"I want you to show me..." she purred in a low, gravelly tone, "how you celebrate after scoring a big goal."

Harry felt like all the air had been punched from his lungs as her words and blazing look washed over him. He stood there frozen, abdominal muscles twitching beneath her roaming eyes. When she slowly dragged her tongue across her plump lower lip, Harry was utterly undone.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the hips and hauled her flush against his body as he crashed his lips onto hers in a searing, desperate kiss. She gasped in surprise against his hungry mouth before instantly melting into the embrace, her fingers fisting into his damp hair.

Their kisses were immediately messy and uncoordinated, all instinct and pent-up longing as they finally gave in to the thick tension that had slowly simmered during their private lesson. Harry angled his head, deepening their liplock as his hands gripped Y/N's lithe waist almost punishingly. She rolled her hips shamelessly against the unmistakable bulge in his athletic pants, earned a guttural groan from Harry.

"Fuck...you're going to be the death of me, you bloody tease," he growled against the sleek column of her throat as his lips blazed a hot trail across her overheated skin.

Y/N laughed breathlessly, the sound shooting straight to Harry's groin. "I'd say I'm sorry...but I'm really, really not."

Growling again at her cheekiness, Harry abruptly spun them both and shoved Y/N up against the dasher boards, pinning her there with his body as his large hands roamed greedily over her petite frame. Bunching up her sleek workout top, he leaned down to trail openmouthed kisses along the soft swell of her belly and up between the lace-capped valley of her breasts.

Y/N squirmed and writhed shamelessly against Harry, little whimpery pants escaping her bitten lips as his calloused hands roamed every inch of her overheated skin finally bared to his wandering touch. Threading her fingers through his wild hair, she tugged his mouth back up to hers for another messy clash of dueling tongues and harsh breaths.

"Harry..." she whined out between electrifying kisses. "I want...I need..."

"What, love? Tell me what you need," he rasped against the swell of her parted lips, hips rutting shamelessly against her core as he pinned her harder to the unforgiving boards.

She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, lust-darkened eyes, chest heaving. In answer, Y/N boldly reached down and cupped the bulge tenting the front of Harry's pants. An audible groan punched out of him at her touch, his forehead thudding weakly against the brows by her head.

"Jesus...are you sure? Here on the rink like this?" he questioned, even as his hips grinded shamelessly into her exploring palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Y/N whispered urgently. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip, peering back at him through dense lashes. "I want you so fucking badly right here, right now. Please, Harry...I need you inside me."

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before crashing his lips back to Y/N's in another messy, fiery kiss. One large hand slid around to cup her arse, grinding her core more firmly against the rigid length of him. She rewarded him with a broken whimper into his mouth.

With his free hand, Harry blindly tugged Y/N's leggings and knickers down in one impatient tug until they were a rumpled pool around her ankles. She quickly kicked them aside, spreading her thighs wantonly as Harry settled in the cradle of her hips.

They both groaned in unison as the their centres made contact, Harry's clothed length nestling snugly against Y/N's slick, molten heat. Reaching between their flush bodies, Y/N deftly freed Harry's straining cock to spring free from the confines of his pants. She traced the plump velvet head teasingly, drinking in Harry's desperate whine against her lips.

"Fuck me..." Harry panted, rutting shamelessly against her hand. "Y/N, please let me fuck you, baby."

That was all the encouragement she needed before guiding his broad tip to her entrance. They both cried out in unison as Harry bottomed out in one slick thrust forward, his thick cock fitting snugly inside her with a soft punch of air. The thick length prodded into her deliciously, kissing the back of her damp cervix. They stilled together for a wild heartbeat, trembling mouths and sweat-dampened foreheads pressed flush as they adjusted to the heady feeling of being so intimately connected.

Harry was the first to move, withdrawing his hips in a slow grind before slamming back home, driving a guttural moan from Y/N's parted lips. He set a punishing pace, his strong arms and thighs flexing with the effort of moving them both against the rigid boards. Y/N wrapped her toned legs high around his flexing hips, nails raking down his rigid back as he jackhammered into her welcoming body over and over.

“Oh fuck, Harry-just like that, like that, yeah–” Y/N moaned once more, grinding her hips against his pelvis, his cock twitching isnide her cunt at the sensation.

“Oh Jesus, you’re so damn hot, you know taht?” he panted into her mouth, their damp clothes sticking togtehr in a sweaty mess. But the way they made each other feel, it was all worth it.

They panted out harsh, shuddering breaths, slick skin slapping together obscenely in the silence of the empty rink. Y/N babbled out breathy moans and curses, struggling to muffle the loud echoes with her face buried in the sweaty curve of Harry's neck. She bit down on it occasionally, earning a groan from him as she paired it with desperate clenches around his length.

But her unraveling cries only spurred him on, his cock driving into her with rougher, more frantic strokes until they were both hovering right on the edge.

With a few more powerful snaps of his hips, Y/N’s back arched like a bow and screamed out her climax, creamy inner walls fluttering spastically around Harry's thick length. The sudden gripping contractions yanked Harry's own orgasm from him in hot bursts as he brokenly shouted out his release, teeth sinking into the supple juncture of Y/N's neck and shoulder, something he had been waiting to do since teh night they met.

They clung together in a sweaty, panting jumble of sated limbs, chests heaving as they slowly drifted back to earth. Little aftershocks still rippled through them both until finally Harry drew his head back, blissfully dazed as he gazed at the thoroughly rumpled and glowing girl in his arms.

"Well...I'd say you definitely scored one hell of a goal," Y/N panted out breathlessly after a moment, trying for a coy smile despite her wild disarray.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed, the sound bright and carefree as he peppered fresh kisses along Y/N's heated cheek and jaw. "Lucky shot, beautiful..."

They held each other for a long stretch, neither willing to break the intimate embrace just yet despite the chilled rink air now raising goosebumps across their sweat-slickened skin. Harry nuzzled deeper against Y/N's neck, breathing in her lingering floral scent heavily tinged with sweat and arousal.

Eventually though, Harry reluctantly eased Y/N's trembling legs back to the floor, steadying her with a firm arm around her waist. Looking around the dim rink with a lopsided smile, he gave a low chuckle at the state of complete disarray - sopping workout clothes, towels, and water bottles strewn everywhere around them, plus a naughty new addition of Y/N's lacy panties lying crumpled against the boards where their heated frenzied began.

Y/N looped her arms loosely around Harry's neck, her coy eyes sparkling with mirth as she gazed back at him adoringly. Harry leaned in again to capture her lips in a sensual, unhurried kiss, reveling in the taste and feel of her. When they finally broke apart again, he pressed his forehead to hers with a contented sigh.

"Fancy grabbing a pint with me when we're done cleaning up this unholy mess?" Harry murmured, pressing his forehead to Y/N's with a contented sigh. "I'll even let you order me around a bit more."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Y/N countered with a throaty chuckle, lazily trailing her fingertips through the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. "Because I was rather enjoying calling the shots just now."

"Oh you cheeky minx," Harry growled playfully before surging in to capture her lips in another heated kiss. He walked them backwards until Y/N's back hit the boards again with a dull thud, caging her in with his body as his large hands roamed eagerly over her bare curves.

Y/N mewled softly into his ravenous mouth, welcoming the slide of his tongue stroking intimately against her own. Her limbs felt heavy and lax, muscles still tingling from the mind-blowing release mere minutes ago. But she could already feel a new ember of need beginning to stoke low in her belly as Harry's sweat-slicked skin glided feverishly against hers.

One of his big hands boldly slid down to cup her arse, hauling Y/N's pliant body flush to grind against the feel of his new arousall. She gasped at the electrifying friction, breaking their liplock on a broken whine.

"Harry...already? I can barely feel my legs!"

"Sorry love, what was that?" he rumbled right back, swirling his hips in a deliberate grind to drag his impressive length along her drenched folds. "Did you want me to stop?"

"No! God no, please don't stop," Y/N hurriedly corrected on a breathless keen as Harry sealed his mouth over her thundering pulse point. His other large hand boldly palmed her breast, callused thumb rasping over her peaked nipple until she shuddered.

"Good girl," he praised in a gravelly tone before biting down sharply on the tendon at the base of her throat.

Y/N jolted with a strangled cry at the tantalizing sting, her back bowing sharply away from the unforgiving barrier at her spine as her legs instinctively scissored wider around Harry's hips. Lust roared through her veins again, thick and heady as their slick skin slid together with the beginnings of a fervent grind.

Lips and teeth clashed in a heated duel once more, the rink filling with harsh pants and whines muffled against sweat-dampened skin. Harry was already throbbing and more than ready to bury himself back inside Y/N's snug, fluttering heat. But he purposefully held off, delighting in slowly winding them both into a lascivious frenzy with nothing but sinuous rolls of his hips and fervent caresses.

"Need you inside me," Y/N groaned at last, using her heels to dig into Harry's firm arse and pull him infinitesimally closer until his rigid length prodded against her drenched entrance. "Harry please, I can't wait anymore. Fuck me again, love."

He gave a gruff sound of approval at her shameless pleading, the authoritative command fueling his already ravenous lust into an outright inferno. Capturing her mouth in another seering kiss, Harry easily hitched Y/N's leg up over his hip before finally sheathing himself inside her with one powerful snap of his hips.

They both cried out in unison at the feeling of being so intimately reconnected, Y/N's sweet whimper swallowed by Harry's desperate groan. He set an immediately brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before pounding back in with punishing strokes, letting the delicious tension coil and crescendo.

Y/N's broken whimpers and moans filled the rink, echoing back at them from the vacant rafters as her petite frame was pinned and jolted by Harry's fervent tempos. One hand scrabbled at the abused boards behind her, trying in vain to find purchase as the other fisted and yanked wildly through Harry's sweat-dampened locks.

"Yes! Yesyesyes..." she babbled mindlessly on each jarring upstroke that grinded deliciously against that molten front wall of nerves. "Oh fuck, Harry...just like that, god yes!"

Harry only growled in response, using his bulk and powerful thighs to hammer into her molten core with somehow even more brutal strokes. His teeth found purchase on the feverish juncture of Y/N's neck and collar, sucking a blossom of arousal to the surface as his hips snapped forward in a punishing grind.

It went on that way, the only sounds filling the rink their harshly mingled cries and the thunderous squelch of flesh meeting slickly in an unforgiving, wild rut. As they spiraled ever higher towards their mutual crescendos, Harry and Y/N's movements turned almost frenzied and animalistic in their unbridled need.

With a few more piston thrusts of his hips, Y/N detonated first. Her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped open on a guttural, sobbing cry of rapture. Every muscle in her lithe body locked up in an archway of pure ecstasy, inner muscles fluttering as she fell over the sweet euphoric release, her stomach tingling with adoration as he looked at her like she was the oly woman in the world.

“Fuck me…” she giggled, but it was immediately transformed into a broken moan as his hips snapped into her quivering entrance once more, her back arching towards his mouth as he latched onto her swollen nipples once again.

His hips snapped inside her–once, twice, thrice–before he was spilling himself inside her, her warmth clinging to him like a comforting embrace that made both their hearts skip a beat.,

***

After their intense intimate encounter on the ice, Harry and Y/N took a few moments to catch their breath and bask in the afterglow. They held each other close, exchanging tender kisses and caresses as their rapidly beating hearts eventually began to settle.

Looking around at the state of disarray they had left the rink in - scattered equipment, towels, water bottles strewn about - Harry chuckled softly against Y/N's tousled hair. "I'd say we've properly christened this ice in a completely unholy way."

Y/N laughed lightly, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Even amid the chill of the rink, she felt deliciously warm and content cocooned in Harry's strong embrace. "Well they do say no place is too sacred for certain activities."

"Cheeky thing, you are," Harry murmured affectionately, trailing his knuckles along the gentle curve of her flushed cheek. He dipped his head to capture her lips in another lingering kiss, savoring her taste and the feel of her body melting against his.

Eventually they knew they should disentangle and start cleaning up the rink before someone came across the incriminating scene of their tryst. With some reluctance, they separated just enough to hastily redress in their rumpled athletic wear.

As Y/N shimmied back into her leggings, she sent Harry a coy look from beneath her lashes. "So...did I pass my hockey training with flying colors then, Coach?"

Harry snorted at her playful quip, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'd say you earned an A+ for effort...among other things," he replied with a lopsided smirk.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter as they straightened up the rink, tossing towels and equipment into haphazard piles. Every so often, their gazes would meet and linger with a lingering heated undercurrent simmering between them.

Once they had restored some semblance of order, Harry tossed his duffel over his shoulder and took Y/N's hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'mon, let me buy you that pint to celebrate your...excellent performance review."

"Mmm, I do love a good performance incentive program," Y/N quipped, falling into step beside Harry towards the exit.

An easy, companionable silence fell over them as they made their way out of the deserted rink and into the crisp night air. Stealing a glance at the beaming beauty beside him, Harry felt a contented calm settle over his usual manic hockey intensity.

He wasn't sure what this new...relationship?...with Y/N would hold. But in that moment, just reveling in her presence and their newfound intimacy, Harry found he didn't really care about the future. He was happy to just bask in the feeling of her hand in his and the memory of her cries of pleasure echoing through the rafters.

As they strolled along, their joined hands swung lightly between their bodies. Harry grinned to himself, already wondering if he could convince Y/N of a repeat "lesson" very soon...

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months

Text

✧ 𝐌𝐢𝐝-𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲 || nico hischier ♔

summary: y/n's distracted mind causes her to get injured during the hughesbowl, leaving her brothers worried and nico suffering in silence.

warnings: injuries, slight mentions to fight, bruised tailbone

notes: nico!!! this is based off of this request -> idea. i had so much fun writing this but for some reason it took me so long to finish?? anyways, as always you guys eat this kind of stuff up so you're welcome friends. i'll see you guys in the next one or in my inbox. add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

publish date: 02/06/24

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It was no one’s fault, she just hadn’t been focused that day. She had been playing both of her brothers for the first time and it brought nerves upon her. It messed with her head as the four of them skated to each other at the beginning of warm-ups, hugging each other. Jack and Luke were more excited than Quinn and y/n, that was for sure. The two older siblings acted as if it was just another game, and it was.

She hadn’t been really paying attention, trying to keep her eye on the puck. She saw Quinn from the corner of her eye, Luke coming onto the ice behind him as the Devils switched lines. They were in the Canucks zone, Quinn behind Thatcher and y/n to the side. They started their pursuit as Quinn passed the puck to Pettersson, who then passed it to y/n. She handled it well as she weaved through the Devils players, hardly noticing her two brothers and her boyfriend.

She passed it to Brock as they reached center ice. She had spaced out for only a few seconds when her eyes regained focus. She looked at Brock and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, didn’t he just have the puck?

She happened to glance down to see the puck by her skates and her brother coming at her. She swore silently to herself before making a move towards the goal. She had been so flustered she forgot how to skate for a moment, getting her feet tangled up. At the speed she was moving, her right skate got caught with her left and caused her to launch forward. It didn’t help that Bratt’s stick accidentally got tangled within the already-made mess of blades trying to intercept her movement.

Everyone watched as she slid into the boards. It was silent when it happened, everyone on the ice coming to a stop. She couldn’t really tell what hurt, but whatever it was, it hurt like hell. She cried out, it was the hardest hit she had gotten in her career and it sent shockwaves through her. Quinn was the first one to make it over to where she lay, the trainers still making their way out there.

He knelt next to her, with no regard for the trainers who were trying to do their job. His older brother instincts kicked in immediately, “Hey what hurts?”

He got no response out of her, just the sounds of her sobs and whines. Jack and Luke quickly followed, leaving their sticks long behind. Jack took the left side of Quinn while Luke took the right, both equally worried about her. However, they couldn’t do anything as the trainers showed up, their teammates dragging them away from the situation.

Quinn was being held by Brock and Petey, both of them trying to reassure the defensemen that she’d be alright, also worried about their teammate. However, the two younger brothers weren’t doing as well. Bratt and Marino were on the ice and were able to hold Luke back but Jack was freaking out. Nico wasn’t of much help either, staring at his girlfriend and the trainers with concern in his eyes.

Nobody knew about them so he tried not to react a whole deal. She had been worried about telling her brothers that she was dating him, let alone anybody. She knew that they would have words about it, but she didn’t need it now. Haula and Timo had to join their teammates on the ice, dragging Jack back from where he was yelling, “She’s my sister! I need to see if she’s alright!”

The trainers got y/n to calm down eventually, getting her to talk about what exactly hurt. She had barely managed to whimper out that there was a shooting pain in her back and a dull ache forming in her head. They were able to get her to stand on herself, even getting her to skate off the ice by herself as well.

There were claps from around Rogers Arena, the Hughes brothers continuing to watch in concern. Luke and Jack were taking their permanent spots on the bench for the rest of the period, there were two minutes left. Quinn’s needs differed from theirs, having to occupy himself with something else besides her injury.

When the period was over, Quinn was the first one down the tunnel, practically running as much as he was able to. After taking his skates off and his pads and jersey, he ran to see his sister who was practically begging for the trainers to let her see them.

Quinn knocked and walked in, y/n immediately lighting up, “Quinny!”

The joy that she had was impeccable after sliding into the boards. He gave her a small smile, “Hey kid. What’s up with her?”

“Nothing’s broken, nothing’s fractured, which is good. However her tailbone might be and probably is bruised and has likely got a concussion, she needs to go to the hospital.”

“What no, I'm fine!”

All of a sudden Jack and Luke came barging into the room, sweaty and out of breath, “What- what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine guys.”

“She’s got a concussion and a bruised tailbone. Needs to go to the hospital.” Quinn sat beside her and brushed her hair out of her face.

Tears made their way down her face, “But I haven’t done anything yet.”

The three boys looked at each other nervously, “Whatcha mean, kid?”

“It’s the first Hughesbowl and I’ve done shit. And my boyfriend is mad at me.”

Nico and her had gotten into a fight a few hours before the game. It was over something stupid but nonetheless, it left the Swiss man feeling angry at her. He had hung up on her and she had been left with her thoughts and sadness. She had tried to push the anger and sadness aside, tried to keep her composure, but once she saw him during warm-ups, it all fell apart.

Jack looked at his twin bewildered, “Your boyfriend?”

She nodded her head but groaned at the feeling, “Fuck.”

“Okay, okay. She needs to go to the hospital now and she needs to stop talking. We’re getting Ellen and Jim and you three go back to your teams.”

They tried to protest but the trainers were having none of it. They sighed and walked out of the room, Quinn saying goodbye to his younger brothers. When Jack and Luke returned, they were quickly met with questions, “How is she?”

Luke spoke in short sentences or more or less just five words, “Possible concussion. Bruised tailbone. Hospital.”

The team sat in silence as the brothers sat down next to each other, Jack throwing an arm around his brother. Jesper couldn’t help but feel bad about what had happened, he couldn’t help but feel like he contributed to her fall. Meanwhile, Nico sat in complete shock, not knowing what to do. How was he supposed to lead when his girlfriend was on his way to the hospital and no one knew about them, no one could find out about them?

His head hung low, eyes stinging with tears. He had just gotten into an argument with her not even 8 hours ago, he had just yelled at her for basically nothing. No one bothered to talk to him, noticing the way he was out of it. Lindy was talking but no one was listening, their minds replaying what happened to y/n over and over again.

The same thing was happening over in the Vancouver locker room with Rick, he had tried to help the team move past the injury, knowing it would only hurt them in the long run. However, they sat staring at the ground, Quinn’s mind running at a million miles an hour. He was taking the brunt of the sadness, both because it was his sister and because it was his teammate.

Before they left the locker room, Quinn stopped them, “Let’s do it for y/n/n.”

Everyone let out their responses, most of them being ‘Do it for y/n/n.’ They all skated out onto the ice, Quinn finding his brothers immediately.

If the brothers were taking it hard, you couldn’t tell. Well, except for Luke. Quinn and Jack had been great about masking their worry, focusing on the game ahead of them, while Luke was practically screaming that he was panicking. Y/n was his older sister, and one of his role models. She had taken care of him when he was home with the flu, she gave him girl advice when he asked for it, and she helped him with his math homework when he was practically losing his mind at the kitchen table.

“Any word?” Jack came to a stop next to his brother, leaning in closer so he could hear him.

“No. Lukey you okay?”

“What if she’s really hurt?” Quinn just tapped him on the back, not wanting to cause a huge scene, “She’s gonna be okay. Just keep your head in the game, she wouldn’t want us playing like shit right now. ”Quinn left the younger two to themselves, making his way back to his team.

Meanwhile, y/n was with her parents in her hospital room, the doctor going through her injuries more thoroughly. It was confirmed that she didn’t have a concussion, just a large bump on her head, nothing was majorly injured besides the bruised tailbone she had. She had begged Ellen and Jim to turn the game on, needing to see if Quinn could beat the shit out of the other two.

She was extremely disappointed when Jesper scored his goal and no Simple Minds played in the next thirty seconds following. She threw her phone down on her bed and it bounced off, hitting the floor as a result. Ellen sighed at her daughter, “I know it sucks, honey, but we just gotta get past it.”

“Everyone’s going to think I’m a failure now, they’re gonna rethink their decision of calling me up.”

“No, they’re not.”

The three heads snapped to the doorway at the new, but familiar, voice, “Neeks?”

He gave the family a soft smile, Ellen and Jim taking the hint to leave the two alone. He walked into the room fully, moving to stand next to her. He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her hair, “Hi schatzi. How are you feeling? What’s hurt?”

“What are you doing here? How did you get here so fast?”

“I didn’t do media, I ran out as soon as Lindy was done talking.” He took a deep breath, “I needed to see you. I needed to make sure that you were okay, I needed to apologize.”

She shook her head but he stopped her, “No, I do. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, it was stupid and I know you just wanted us to see each other. I’m so sorry for what I said, how I said it.”

“It’s okay, Neeks.”

“It’s not, schatzi. I love you and I shouldn’t have freaked out over something stupid.”

Nico looked down at the ground before looking back up at her, “I was so worried when I saw you trip. I knew something was going on, you didn’t even notice the puck by you.”

Y/n slightly giggled, “Yeah wasn’t the finest moment of my career.”

Her comment got a laugh out of Nico which she saw as a good thing, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Bruised tailbone but other than that I’m okay. I’m on a lot of drugs right now.”

He laughed again, kissing her head, “You’re special y/n Hughes.”

“That I am.”

It was two minutes later when her brothers came barreling through the door, making Ellen’s attempts to stop them unsuccessful, “Nico?”

The two whipped their heads toward the door, y/n groaning in pain, “Fuck.”

Nico was quick to react, placing his hand on the back of her neck, his thumb coming to rest near her hairline. She smiled at him, slight pain lacing it. Jack and Luke looked at the two in disbelief, “What the hell is going on here?”

“Oh right. Nico and I are dating.”

Quinn stepped in front of the two Devils, walking over to pat Nico’s back, “Hey man.”

She raised an eyebrow at her twin and her younger brother, “Quinn’s fine with it.”

“But he- he’s our-” The two of them were flabbergasted as they looked at the scene.

The eldest Hughes rolled his eyes, “Can we not talk about this right now? Y/n is sitting in a hospital bed and this is the first time in months that the four of us have seen each other.”

The two nodded and moved over to sit down on the chairs by her bed, “Only if Nico can stay.”

Quinn nodded and raised an eyebrow when he saw Jack and Luke going to protest. They shut up immediately, slouching down into their seats like they had just been scolded by Ellen for doing something stupid. The four Hughes siblings caught up on the latest that had been happening, Nico all but staring lovingly at his girlfriend.

They ended up leaving a little while later after eating dinner, Nico being allowed to stay with her for the night. She tried to move over to give him space but he refused, saying he’d rather stay on the uncomfortable chair than injure her more.

“Love you, Neeks,” Y/n mumbled.

Nico smiled, “I love you too, schatzi.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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qrrieterisunnq · 14 days

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It's nothing - Nico Hischier

nico!hischier x fem!reader Summary: Nico gets injured during the game, which leads to y/n checking him out in the medical room. Nico downplays his injury to make a good impression on Y/n. requested: yes/no A/N: I hope you'll like it, it's unedited so I might change something when I have time to edit the rest of the fics! So just enjoy this fic and happy rest of the day! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 1,38K warning(s): injured Nico, y/n is an intern, cocky Nico, fluff

masterlist | wip's

The puck is on Nico’s stick as he skates towards the net of the team they’re playing against. They are up for two goals, but they are just in the second period. Nico looks around, looking for his teammates so he can pass them the puck.

On his left is Jack but there are two islanders next to him, so he wouldn’t be able to get the puck. There are other two Luke and Ondřej, but they aren’t in the best position, so the last one is Jasper who is in center with the best chance to shoot a goal.

“Bratter!” he shouts, his thick Swiss accent making Jasper whisp his head in Nico’s direction. With a swift swing of his stick, Nico sends the puck over to him all eyes on Jesper as he shoots on the net getting the puck in the top left corner. The cheers and the bell sound through the arena, and the boys on the ice skate over to Jesper embracing him in a hug and patting his head. “Atta boy!” Nico laughs, patting his helmet.

“God shot, J!” Jack skates over to them, joining the hug. The lineup slowly makes their way to the bench bumping the extended gloves of their teammates.

After their celebration, Nico skates on the faceoffs, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down to win the face-off. As soon as the puck touches the ice, Nico swings his stick the puck sliding behind him on Jack’s stick. He swings his stick, hitting the puck hard as it flies in the net, right between the goalie's legs, but this time, he’s prepared for it and deflects the puck away. Nico skates toward it, but the defenseman on the other team pushes him in the boards. Nico’s shoulder slammed into the boards, and he fell down, staying there as he winced in pain.

The referee immediately whistles announcing penalties, as the boys skate over to Nico. Timo immediately shoves the other player away earning a shove in return.

But Timo's anger and loyalty to Nico won't let him and he shoves him again, the defenceman doesn't like that and gives Timo a hard hit in the face.

The free referee skates over to them trying to get them away from each other. Jack skates towards them hugging Timo around his waist and pulling him away. “YOU SON OF BITCH!” Timo shouts over Jack’s shoulder as he’s dragged away to the bench.

“You okay, Nico?” Ondřej asks Nico as he kneels down beside him.

“My shoulder hurts like a bitch.” Nico whimper, his left hand clutching his right one

“Okay, give me your hand, we’ll get you down to the medical room.” He sighs gripping Nico’s left hand and helping him up on the skates as he skates with him to the bench.

“You okay Nico?” Coach Green asks with concern in his eyes.

“No my shoulder hurts like a bitch!” he curse as he clutches Ondřej’s arm for support.

“I’ll lead him down to the medical room, I’m sure y/n is ready for him.” Coach just nods his head making room for them to leave down the tunnel.

“Y/n! Are you here!” you can hear a voice with a thick accent calling for you. Immediately you run to the door opening and welcome the two players inside the room.

“Yeah! Come in, come in!” you urge them inside pointing towards the table. “Sit on the table Nico and Pally I need you to help him take off the jersey and pads.” You say as you walk over to your table taking the gloves from the box.

“Sure.” He nods his head solely helping Nico to get his jersey from his injured shoulder. “Thanks, O.” Nico breathes out as soon as the jersey is off of him leaving him sitting here in only his pads. “I get the pads you can go back. I need you to win the game!”

“You sure Cap?”

“Yeah positive, go and kick their asses.” Nico goes to move his right arm to extend his fist but winces in pain.

“Hey, Nico, be careful!” you scold him as you walk over to him starting to get his pads off.

“Sorry,” he pouts, a small laugh leaving Ondřej’s lips. “But it’s nothing.”

“Okay, can you please slowly raise your hand up? As soon as it starts hurting you stop okay?” you say when he’s sitting half-naked in front of you.

Nico just nods his head raising his right arm. You watch his face wince in pain but he continues raising it until it is in a vertical position. “It’s nothing, see?” he points to the right arm.

“I’m the one to say if it’s nothing. The boarding looked really nasty so let me do my job here okay?” you smile at him your hands gripping his right arm and getting it down in a normal position. You place your hands on his shoulder, squeezing the right places to find out what is with his shoulder.

“So, how are you enjoying the internship so far?” he asks as you do your job with his shoulder.

“Oh, it's amazing! Really the medical staff here is so welcoming and really helpful when I need something or I don’t know what something is. And of course, you guys are amazing too, you know, free hockey games.” You chuckle a throaty laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh, are we?” he says cocky smile lingering on his lips. “Yeah, I mean you’re playing amazing,” you look at him when a quiet groan leaves his mouth. He just shakes his head like it's nothing, that it’s not hurting. “Especially you.” You whisper to yourself hoping he won’t hear it. It’s no secret you have a crush on the captain. Lots of the guys noticed how you check him off and the medical staff too.

“Especially me, eh?” he asks his hands landing on your hips as he pulls you between his legs.

“Yeah, and now let me do my job. Your shoulder is dislocated so I need to get it back in its place,” You say shaking his hands off your hips. “So on three, okay?” you prepare him for a pain. Your left hand is resting on his shoulder and your right is holding his biceps so you can pull at it.

“Yeah, you don’t have to count, it won’t hurt, I’m a tough guy.” Smirk finding its way on his lips shrugging you grasp his shoulder harder at the same time as you pull on his biceps getting the shoulder in the right place.

“Oh FUCK!!” he hisses his teeth sinking in his lower lips.

“Tough guy, huh?” you smirk at him patting his tight as you walk over to the table for bandage.

“Very funny y/n, really.” He says taking in deep breath, and just watching y/n do her job. He had this intense crush on her since she started her internship here only a few weeks ago.

“What, I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt!” you giggle as you carefully bandage his shoulder. “Okay, tough guy! You can go on the ice, but be careful with it. One bag hit in the shoulder and you might end up here again.” You smile at him when you’re done and fuck…your smile is so fucking cute and he just wants that full plump lips on his.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind ending up in here again.” Nico puts his pads back on his shoulders and arms, covering his toned muscular chest. You pout at it, shaking your head at yourself.

“Yeah, good one. Now go on that ice and kick some asses. And for a record, don’t try to downplay your injury just to make a good impression on someone, tough guy.” You motion your hand towards the ice and turn away to take off your gloves and write something on the computer.

“Okay, thanks for the advice miss intern.” He salutes and walks from the medical room, only to come back. “And by the way, tomorrow, you and me, dinner! I’ll pick you up at eight.” He sends you a wink, causing your cheeks to turn red. Before you can say anything, he’s running down the tunnel to the ice. You just shake your head at him, sitting down on your chair, your cheeks still bright red and your thoughts already on tomorrow and the dinner.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #nh13 #nj devils #nhl #nico hischier fic #nhl fic #nico hischier imagine #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils

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lumosinlove · 2 months

Text

Vaincre

June part iv

I’ll tell you the truth

But never goodbye

Remus thought about practice and all the sounds he wouldn’t be hearing again for a couple of months now. A din he desperately hoped would come again in the Fall.

The quiet bustle of the boys arriving. Yawns and some early morning groans. Bags being tossed down into stalls. Velcro and stick tape. The skate sharpener across the hall. The shivery sound of a bucket of pucks being scattered onto the ice. The slap of pucks and bodies on the boards rebounding in a high-roofed, empty rink. The ping of the goalposts. Bursts of laughter between drills. Showers stuttering into a hard, hot spray and the echo of voices off of tiles.

He wanted it all again. The crowds and video tape sessions. The signings and the chance to meet fans. The wins—even the losses. Even the press conferences. He wanted to see his best friends every day. He wanted to win.

They didn’t have a destination, but neither Remus nor Sirius tried to change that. They walked through the New York streets, downtown, where everything felt a little bit like a movie set. Most places were shut tight for the night, but it still felt alive.

Sirius looked handsome in the city lights. In his jeans and t-shirt. More importantly, he looked relaxed. More relaxed than Remus had expected, anyway.

“You’re calm.”

Sirius didn’t look over at him, but a small smile appeared on his face. “Maybe I just look it.”

“Okay, fair.” Remus squeezed their tangled fingers together. “I just meant that you don’t seem…”

“Miserable.”

“Well, sure. That word works.”

“I’m just…” Sirius looked down at him. “Not sure if it’s sunk in yet, maybe. You?”

“No. Not really.”

Sirius squeezed his hand back and Remus felt his engagement ring press into his skin. If anything good came out of this, it was that he would not be taking of his ring any time soon. He caught it glinting in the passing lights.

“New York really never sleeps,” Remus said.

“Neither do we, apparently.”

It was helping more than sleep, though—the walking. It was starving off the soreness they were bound to feel soon. He’d already glimpsed a bad bruise forming near his knee.

“Either way,” Remus said. “I like these walks of ours. It feels different than Gryf.”

“Ouais,” Sirius agreed. “At least we both have rivers.”

The next street they turned onto was not asphalt, but cobblestones. It wound and bent, going against the grid of New York that Remus had become accustomed to. He leaned his head back to look up at the lit apartments above. It might have been two AM, but he could see shadows moving around, or the colorful flickers of televisions.

“Did you talk to Logan?” he asked.

“Non, not really. I mean, on the ice I did. But I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there.”

“Yeah.” Remus sighed. He fought the urge to start talking about the game. Part of him wanted to know each and every single one of Sirius’ thoughts. The hit in the second. The odd, sloppy breakaway in the third. That last buzzer attempt.

“You want to talk about it don’t you,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, then groaned, hiding it in Sirius’ shoulder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

It was something special, to have someone who could read his mind. He closed his eyes, inhaling Sirius’ familiar scent and trusting him to guide him on the street. Sirius’ hand disappeared from his and wrapped around his waist instead. A kiss was pressed to Remus’ temple.

“Curb,” Sirius said softly, and Remus stepped down to cross the street then opened his eyes.

“Magnetic,” Remus said. “Do you remember them calling us that?”

“No one needed to remind me.”

Remus tightened his arms around Sirius’ hips and pressed a kiss over his shirt. “I know. I was just remembering.”

Their passes had connected so thoroughly this series. So well. It was awful, almost mean that the passes that stuck in their minds the most were the ones that had missed.

“How about we keep remembering…” Sirius began. “But how about we do it with fries and milkshakes.”

Remus looked up. The idea made his mouth water. “Yes. What made you say that?”

Sirius just smiled and jerked his chin forward. “Là.”

There was a diner on the corner. Many of the booths in the window were filled—Other people in search of late-night snacks. The neon sign out front read 24 HOURS and Remus could see a group of girls with milkshakes and a basket of fries in front of them.

He reached up to wrap his arms around Sirius’ neck and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. “Love of my fucking life.”

He felt Sirius smile. Sirius reached for his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing his ring. “Ouais, it’s true.”

He held the door open for Remus.

They were shuffled into a leather, worn booth and given giant seemingly endless menus. Remus found that he could hardly sit still. He kept laughing to himself. At one point, when Sirius gave him an amused, dazed look, he’d had to cover his mouth.

“You’re wild on adrenaline,” Sirius laughed.

Remus wondered if that was it. If adrenaline was what this was. These weird, surprising tight bursts of joy bubbling over in his chest. Surely he should be feeling low. He had just lost part of his childhood dream yet again.

Was adrenaline fueling the smile Sirius gave him when their two chocolate milkshakes and order of fries arrived? Did adrenaline cause Sirius to skeptically watch him dip a fry into the thick chocolate? Did it make them both laugh when Sirius tried it, made a face, and quickly switched back to ketchup?

Or maybe something had changed.

“You know, I always wanted to talk about games with you,” Remus said.

“Always?”

“You know. Before.” Remus brought the straw of his milkshake between his teeth. “I always wondered what you were thinking. Even when you were mean to me.”

Sirius groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Arrêt.”

Remus reached across the table and tried to pull his hands away. “I did! Sirius, don’t hide, come here.” He laughed when Sirius wouldn’t. “Sirius.”

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed himself up from his side of the booth, only to slide into Remus’, arm along the back behind him and tight against his side.

“Wh…” Remus began.

Sirius leaned forward and stole the fry from Remus’ fingers with a short tug of his teeth. “You said come here.”

“That was my fry.”

“Too late.”

“Meanie.”

Sirius just made the sound that Remus associated with both him and Logan—a very Quebecois sort of tisk of disapproval (in Logan’s part, mostly jokingly aimed at Finn). Sirius’ arm slid from the booth to Remus’ shoulders and he kissed him. Remus tilted his chin up into it and let himself relax.

“Chocolate and potatoes?” Sirius asked as he dipped to kiss Remus’ jaw. “Really?”

“Sweet and salty,” Remus replied, trying not to let his eyes slip closed. They were in a diner.

“Weirdo.”

Remus hissed at a playful nip to his neck and Sirius pulled back. Sirius dragged his milkshake over to their side of the table and took a long sip. Remus could tell he was thinking. Remus had always been able to tell when he was thinking. Even when he hadn’t been able to figure out anything else about Sirius.

“Tell me,” Remus said.

“I wish I hadn’t broken that stick,” Sirius said quietly. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Re…”

“I know,” Remus said. “I know.”

Sirius let out a frustrated sound and rubbed at his eyes. “Merde…I don’t know what gets into me. Well, I do…”

They had both been expecting them, but as the clouds of loss edged back into their peripheral vision, Remus sighed. Sirius tightened his arm around Remus and tilted their heads together. Remus closed his eyes as they took each other’s weight.

“Julian said it best,” Sirius said. “I wanted this for you.”

“And you.”

Sirius pressed his lips together. “I—yes.”

Remus arched a brow, confused by the conflicted look on Sirius’ face. “What, what’s that look?”

Sirius sighed. He smiled, just a little. A bewildered sort of smile. He hooked his fingers into the plastic fry basket mindlessly, the greasy paper crinkling at his touch. His eyes went a little unfocused as he thought. Their blue-gray looked so fair in the diner’s light. “I keep wondering why I’m not as upset as I usually would be. I keep trying to, like…” He moved his free hand outward in a small sharp motion, palm forward. “Push myself towards being that upset. Which is insane. Why do I feel guilty for feeling slightly okay about this?”

“I…” Remus nodded slowly. “I get that. I do. Hey, but that’s good. It’s good you feel okay, you wouldn’t have been okay other years. That’s why I said you seem so calm I’m…I’m fucking proud of you for it.”

“Ouais. I guess…” His expression turned almost shy. “I guess me too.”

That made Remus smile.

“What I mean is…I’m gutted.” Sirius picked up a fry. “I want to throw something, I want a do-over…I want to be angry at Logan.” He tossed the fry back, turning to look at Remus. “But the thing that I keep thinking about isn’t the game. Isn’t the Cup. It’s you.”

Remus’ smile faltered. He looked down. “Yeah? Well… you keep catching yourself feeling guilty?” Sirius nodded. “Well, I keep catching myself thinking that this was it. That I’m finished.”

“You’re not. Re.” Sirius’ hand cupped his shoulder and Remus turned his head to look down at it. He could have drawn his scar in perfect alignment even while not being able to see it. Sirius’ fingers, over his shirt, traced it perfectly, too. He watched Sirius do it once, then twice. It was so much apart of him that even Sirius could map it into his skin.

“Loops.”

“You almost never call me that anymore.”

“Well, right now you’re my teammate as much as everything else and I’m telling you you’re going to get there.”

Remus smiled. He felt the waver in it and so did Sirius. “Telling me as my Captain?”

“As your Captain,” Sirius confirmed. His fingers traced the scar again. “As your friend and teammate who watched you…watched you take every part of your life back from Fenrir.”

Remus surprised himself with a laugh and tears springing to his eyes. “Fuck. I did, didn’t I?”

“Ouais.” Sirius kissed a tear away. “You fucking did.”

“Oh my God,” Remus whispered as the tears pressed harder at him. He tucked his face into Sirius’ neck and Sirius wrapped him up tight. His voice was warm and familiar in his ear.

“I’m telling you as all those things, and I’m telling you as someone who loves you more than anything. Ever.” Sirius’ hand spanned his back, rubbing gently. “D’accord. I think that was most of my English for tonight.”

Remus laughed tearfully again, and then let out a quiet sob, shoulders hitching. “I don’t know if I’m crying because I’m sad or relieved or what.”

“I don’t know either,” Sirius said. His voice held a teasing note. “But our waitress looks like she’s going to bring us free pie.”

Their next laughs were realer, and Remus pulled back. Sirius made a soft sound and thumbed away the tear tracks on Remus’ cheeks. Sirius still looked tired. The strain of the game was still there, but there was a happy, weightless flush to his cheeks that Remus had never seen before.

Sirius dipped a fry in his chocolate shake and held it out to Remus. “Sweet and salty night.”

Remus let Sirius feed him the chocolatey fry. Sirius dipped his own in ketchup and popped it into his mouth. Remus looked over his familiar profile. He’d seen it in shadows and bright lights…he would see him soon in the lake house’s sunset.

“Next year, mon loup,” Sirius said. “You and me. It’s not the end.”

Remus nodded and let Sirius tuck him back under his arm. “You and me.”

Logan was leaning against the side of the rooftop bar between Luke and Alex, listening to everyone swap stories and enjoying the warm wind on his back. It was good to be with Percy and Will again. He was glad now, basking in the New York night, that he hadn’t ruined this year for himself—at least not the entire year. He was glad he could stand here laughing with them about old times. The desperate fog of sadness from his first month still haunted him, but it was easier now. That was all he could hope for.

His rum and coke was sweet, but not as good as it was when Finn made it for him. The chicken wings on the table were spicy, but not as balanced as Leo’s. What had started with promises of a big, wild night had mellowed out quickly. It seemed like the team was content to simply be together, basking in the high of the win. Logan was basking with them. Just a little. Even when part of his heart, part of his mind, part of everything that was him, was at home with Leo and Finn.

It was close to three in the morning and Percy was in full form, joking with him about all the girls trying to get his attention. It was true—their group had been clocked the second they came in.

“I swear that’s the sixth one,” Percy sighed, looking over at the bar. “We’re just stars in your galaxy huh, Tremzy.”

“It’s the eyes. Nothing’s changed since college,” Will added. “Thank God Finn isn’t here.” Will had stayed out with them, which was rare. Usually he went home to his family before long. Logan was happy he was here. He’d always loved how loud his laugh was. It reminded him of Freshman year, hanging out in the kitchen of OKN house with Finn and Percy, watching Will cook the house dinner. He’d been such a good captain. The best, besides Sirius.

“What would happen if Finn was here?” Saint asked. He was standing at Luke’s side. Luke kept stealing sips of his whiskey—and narrowing his eyes playfully when Logan smiled at him.

“He, ah, sort of forgets what flirting is,” Logan explained and Alex nodded, pointing at Logan like it would enhance how true that was.

“I mean, maybe it’s more like he’s too good at it?” Percy offered.

Logan laughed. “He talks to everyone and it’s only when they ask him for his number after like, twenty minutes of talking—”

Alex laughed. “Then he’s like, oh no.”

Logan tried for a Finn accent. “Oh, shoot, sorry, I’m actually…”

Will threw his head back with that wonderful, infectious laugh. “Wait, that’s so dead on.”

Logan smiled. “But it was so so wonderful getting to know you! Those pictures you showed me of your dog—Man, they made my night.”

“All right,” Saint held up a hand. “I get it.”

“Yeah stop, it’s creepy now,” Alex said. “That’s scary good. Maybe better than mine.”

Luke scoffed. “Dude, you can’t have a Finn impression. You are a Finn impression.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Alex held up a hand. “If anything, Finn is an impression of moi.”

Logan smiled. He glanced at his phone. One new message, but from Noelle telling him he was coming to lunch tomorrow. It was late.

“Hey, hey,” Percy said, making Logan look up. “I know that look…Nu-uh. Not yet.”

Logan raised his eyebrows, smiling. “Perc.” He put on the Finn voice again. “C’mon, give me a break.”

Percy shuddered. “Okay, I didn’t mean to open this can of worms. This terrifying can of worms.”

“Perc, he beat his boys out today,” Will said. “If he wants to go home, let him.”

Percy put his hands against his chest. “But I haven’t even gotten to the best part of my day yet!”

“How could we ever guess,” Saint said flatly.

Percy winked at him. “Sebastian…Cassie Baker smiled at me today.”

Logan laughed and finished his drink. “Ouais, I’m out. You can moon over my ex-girlfriend without me.”

Alex finished off his drink, too. “I’m done, too. This was fun, boys.”

Percy spluttered. “What? It is young. The night. The earth—is young!”

“I have two boyfriends in my bed, warm and asleep,” Logan said, pushing up from the wall. “And my bed is usually very cold and very empty. So. This was fun. Goodbye.” He looked over at Luke, knocking him lightly in the shoulder as a way of saying goodnight. Luke jerked his chin in reply.

“Tremzy.” Percy actually pouted. “No, non, no.”

“Ouais, yeah, ouais,” Logan said. Percy grabbed onto his arm and made a show of putting most of his weight on Logan to keep him in place. Logan did nothing to help him and Percy began sliding towards the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Will dragged Percy back to his feet with a fond shake of his head. “You’re so embarrassing.” he nodded to Alex and Logan. “You two have a good night. Don’t beat yourselves up too hard. It was a good game.”

“Yeah.” Alex sighed but nodded. “It was.” He looked up and called over to the bar. “A round for these guys, Hank!” He tussled Percy’s hair. “My parting gift, Perseus.”

Percy sent them a mournful look, but looked willing enough to accept the drink. “Fine.”

Even Saint cracked a smile.

“That really was a good Finn,” Alex said as Logan followed him down the stairs to the main restaurant and out the door. A breeze picked up on the dark street.

“Merci.” Logan shivered a little in his thin shirt. “Are you calling an Uber?”

Alex sent him an unimpressed look.

Logan sighed. “You’re walking, aren’t you?”

“What do you take me for?”

“Fuck,” Logan said, but followed him.

It was like walking with Finn—Logan didn’t have to think about directions or finding his way around. He knew they lived near each other but would have to split up at some point. Alex would tell him when they did. For now, the air felt good against his skin and the silence was gentle. Sometimes he still felt like he could hear the game in his head.

“Finn asked me once to try and take the shot for you if I could,” Alex said.

Logan wasn’t surprised. Alex touched his elbow briefly to get him to turn left.

“Luke offered me the same,” he said. “It…it is what it is.” But that wasn’t quite right. “Non. It fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I’ve had that with Kasey. You want to apologize when there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Logan half nodded, half shook his head. “I don’t know. I wish I had gotten to see Le before we left. I thought he needed space. I thought I needed space…I guess we did. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Adrenaline’s wearing off,” Logan said. “I miss him.”

“You’re walking home.”

“I know,” Logan said, eyes down. “But I miss him.”

Alex’s hand appeared on his back, rubbing gently.

“Is Kasey doing okay?” Logan asked.

Alex was quiet for a long time. When Logan looked over, he was frowning down at the ground and fiddling with the small, dark diamond he wore.

“Alex?”

Alex guided him right. The light was red but not a car was in sight. “It’s…really hard for me to tell right now actually.” He stepped up onto a low wall and balanced for a few steps before jumping off again. The temperature had dropped. Logan thought it felt like rain.

“You’re the one who told me to talk to Finn when I was worried about us,” Logan began carefully, and frowned when Alex sort of flinched. “You’re not the type to not take your own advice.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Sometimes I am.”

Logan supposed that was true enough. No one always practiced what they preached. Logan watched their feet as they walked, waiting for Alex to say more. They had fallen into sync. They were quiet for a while again. Alex lead him straight, then left, the straight on again. Logan knocked their shoulders together at one point. Alex knocked back.

“I’m not…worried about us,” Alex said suddenly. “Exactly… I just wonder—I wonder if I’m…” He rubbed a tired hand across his face as they avoided a puddle at a curb. Logan was beginning to think this was about the wedding. He didn’t blame Alex if it was. If Leo and Finn suddenly decided to get married, he’d crawl out of his fucking skin.

“You should tell them,” Logan said softly. He realized he was replying to unsaid things, but if anyone might understand even a sliver of Alex’s situation, it was him.

Alex’s face tightened. “Tell them what?”

Logan thought for a moment. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need to.”

“What I need to?” Alex repeated. “What I need is to show them—show them that I…” Alex gave a sharp shake of his head. Just as suddenly, Alex switched topics. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

Logan looked up at him. “Alex—”

“I hope—did I force you? I’m sorry, Tremz.”

“What? Non, non. I…I’m glad I came. Really, I am. But—”

“Okay,” Alex said. “Just checking.”

The streets turned to cobblestones and took on curves. There were still a few apartment glowing. Logan liked that. It felt like Gryffindor. There was always a light on. Finally, Alex stopped.

“You’re right,” Alex said. “I’m left.”

“Oh, I thought you were agreeing with me.” What he meant was you can talk to me. “Al, can I do anything?”

Alex smiled. It was a little tight, but he gave Logan a playful shove in the right direction. “No. Thanks, Tremz.”

Logan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t know how to push either.

They stood there in front of each other for a moment. Alex huffed out a laugh and hugged him hard. A hug Logan associated with Finn, with Finn’s parents. They both did the little shoulder pat that their mom hugged with, too. It made Logan smile.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, muffled by Logan’s shoulder.

When Logan had crossed the street, he turned. He felt like he hadn’t tried hard enough, and he’d already made that mistake once tonight with Leo.

“Mais—I’ll say one thing?”

“What’s up?” Alex nodded, waiting on the corner.

“What you said earlier,” Logan said. “In the locker room and just now. About showing them. That we can be both lovers and—” He almost said enemies. “Opponents.”

“The…oh. Yeah?”

“I think…I think I won a hockey game today,” Logan said. "And I love my boyfriend. If I had lost a hockey game, I would still love my boyfriend. When there are no more hockey games, I’ll still love Leo. And if someone, some fucking reporter wants to link those two things, then they can go to hell.”

Alex was shades of blue and silver across the narrow street.

Logan shifted, a little nervous now. “I don’t think…I don’t think we have to show anyone anything. If it’s okay for me to say…”

Logan thought of the hell this year had been. He thought of Leo, holding him when they’d found out he was going to New York. Leo, tumbling into their living room in the middle of the night when Logan had come home from All-Stars. Leo and his soft kisses in the bright hospital hallway while they waited to see if Finn was okay. None of that was a show. Leo might like to put on a performance on the ice for the fans, but everything else about him was instinct, real and pure. Logan admired that. He’d put up fronts for Finn for so long, fronts that he was still tearing down.

“You don’t have to show Kasey and Nat anything. Not, like, a happy face or that you’re okay. That’s not…” Logan shook his head. “That’s just a bad habit, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head up to look at the faint moon over the city. It wasn’t full, but it was getting there.

“Tremzy…” Alex said slowly. When he smiled, the moonlight lit up his face. “You know what?”

“Quoi?”

“You’re fucking right.” Alex put a hand to his chest. The necklace glinted between his fingers. “You’re so fucking right.”

Logan let out a breath. He smiled back. “Yeah? I don’t know if that made sense in English.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s voice cracked, his brown eyes were bright with tears, but when Logan made to step forward he waved him off.

“Well,” Alex said. “I’m going home now.”

There was a lot of relief in that word. So much that it made Logan smile and feel choked up, too. “Me too.”

Logan tried to open the door as quietly as possible, going slow and expecting darkness.

Only, the lamp above his couch was on, turned down to the dimmest setting, and Finn was looking at him from just below it. He was wearing his faded NASA t-shirt and sweatpants, socked feet crossed on top of a pillow. His sling was draped over the back of the couch, his arm resting easily atop another pillow which also propped his book up.

Sleeping against his chest, was Leo.

Logan wanted to crumble to his knees.

“Oh,” Logan mouthed. He kept perfectly still.

Finn folded the book closed silently. He had his glasses on. Hi, his soft eyes said, and then with a glance down at Leo and a palm on his back: Don’t worry, I’ve got him.

Logan set his keys into the bowl by the door as quietly as he could. Leo. He toed his shoes off. Leo. He walked over to the couch and knelt beside them.

“You are so bad at sneaking,” Finn whispered—so quiet. “Did you have a good time?”

“Ouais,” Logan whispered back. He settled a palm beside Finn’s on Leo’s back, eyes trained on his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. Logan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss over his t-shirt. He looked up at Finn so he could read his lips more than hear him. “Had a good walk with Alex.”

Finn’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “Oh? Alex…is very good to walk with.”

Logan nodded. He would tell Finn he was a little worried tomorrow.

“Is he okay?” Finn asked softly.

“He will be,” Logan said. He nodded towards Leo. “And ours?”

Finn rubbed a slow hand down Leo’s back with a sigh.

“Lo…”

So far, Leo hadn’t stirred, but at Finn’s touch Logan felt the change in his breathing. Logan could always tell when Leo was awake. Slowly, Leo’s eyes opened. His cheeks were flushed. He regarded Logan sleepily for a moment. Logan felt Leo’s muscles tense as he remembered.

“Hi,” Logan said softly. “Hi, Le.”

“You—” Leo began, but his voice was hoarse and he had to begin again. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I did,” Logan said. “But I want to be here. Merde, Le, I wanted to be here fucking hours ago, I…” Logan shook his head. He was upset with himself, more so than he’d allowed himself to realize earlier tonight. “I should have come and see you. Soleil, I didn’t know…I didn’t know if you’d want…God, I love you, what can I do? Is there anything?”

Tears filled Leo’s eyes. He gave his head a small shake.

“Okay,” Logan said. Was he allowed to reach out to him? Did Leo want that? “Okay…”

“I’m going home with my parents tomorrow for a couple days, Lo.”

Everything in Logan froze. He looked up at Finn, whose eyes told him that this was what he had been about to say.

“Quoi?” Logan breathed. All the tension came right back into him. The fizzy, heavy quiet drained right out of his head.

“Lo,” Finn said, slightly warning.

It knocked him off balance, sitting back on his knees, but Finn reached out and grabbed his hand. His brown eyes were firm, clouded with racing thoughts and emotions. Relax. Think. Wait. Finn’s fingers squeezed around his own. Think. His thumbs made slow tracks across Logan’s knuckles. It’s okay. Think about him. Think about why.

Slowly, slowly, Logan pulled himself back towards Leo, who was watching him with exhausted blue eyes.

Logan let out a breath, he squeezed Finn’s hand then dropped it and combed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I…okay. Okay. Whatever you need, Soleil.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you play—”

“Shh,” Logan whispered. “Le. Leo. It’s not about me. I know I just—um. Freaked out for a second. I’m sorry. We’ve had enough of that this year, ouais?” He leaned down to kiss Leo’s temple. “Home is always good.”

Finn closed his eyes at that, tucking his nose into Leo’s hair. “He’s right, Le. I…he’s right.”

Leo’s first sob was quiet, just a hitch of his chest, but the second came out in a harsh breath. He turned his face towards Finn’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Logan felt Leo’s pain right in the center of his chest. “We love you. So much. Le…” Logan wrapped an arm around his back, and Leo reached out a hand to hold his.

“We do,” Finn whispered. “We’re right here.”

“Always,” Logan said. “And—Le, you played so well tonight.” Logan’s throat closed up and he had to pause before he could talk again. “And I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re so talented and this year has been shit. It’s been absolute shit, Le.”

“I really—love you, I just—I need…” Leo gave up trying to talk, just pressed closer to Finn.

“You don’t have to explain,” Finn said soothingly. “We understand.”

“Ouais.” Logan nodded. “I also would—would want Eloise’s chicken soup.” Logan wiped his eyes clear of tears so he could see Leo better. “Even with full spice.”

It startled a laugh out of Leo, crying and blocked-nosed as it was. “Full spice?”

“Ouais, I would. I swear it.”

“Me too,” Finn said. “It’d make me cry but me too.”

Outside it started to rain. A crack of thunder and the force of the drops doubled. Logan didn’t realize he’d hardly looked up until the second clap of thunder.

“The storm,” Leo said.

“Can’t hear it,” Logan replied.

Leo took a few breathes, then picked up his head from Finn’s chest and looked at him.

“Hi, pillow.”

Finn laughed softly. “Very happy to be of service.”

“Didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep at all.” Leo pressed a kiss to Finn’s chin and groaned a little as he pushed himself into a sitting position, like he hadn’t moved in ages. He let out a long breath, rubbing at his eyes.

“I love you guys, too,” Leo said. He reached out for Logan. “The ice…Seeing you on the ice…”

Logan shook his head. “I know.” He pushed himself up onto the couch when Leo made free the space on his other side. Finn sat up and slipped his sling back over his head to cradle his arm. He sat facing them criss-crossed and Leo touched his face. Finn kissed his palm.

“Did you guys eat after the game?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “Finn wanted to get me something but…I really just didn’t want anything.”

“You should have something,” Logan said, then he leaned forward for a quick kiss. “Wait.” This. This was something he could do. “Don’t move, either of you.”

Logan moved around in the yellow light of his kitchen with hard-fought for ease. He cracked eggs into a bowl. He poured a splash of milk in, the way Leo had taught him. In the pan, he kept the heat on low, turning the eggs slowly so their soft curl didn’t break. He turned the heat off while they were still just a little runny, slid them onto the toasts—which he had managed to time perfectly—to let them finish cooking while they melted in butter and a few passes of shaved cheddar. Four shakes of chili flakes. He went to the fridge and found the fresh mint that Leo had bought for him. He waited a moment for his kettle to boil, then clumped the mint into three mugs and poured the hot water over them. A little drizzle of honey in Leo’s, a big drizzle in his, none for Finn.

In the living room, Finn and Leo were dozing together. Outside, the sky lit up with lightning and both of their eyes opened. Leo held out his arm.

“You’re back.”

“Of course,” Logan said.

Leo looked over at Finn. “See?”

Finn shuffled Leo closer under his arm. “I do. I do.”

Logan braced himself, setting the tray of Leo’s eggs and the three teas down just in time for the thunder to make him flinch. Leo’s eyes were clearer now. He smiled when they saw the food.

“Aw, Lo…”

“It’s nothing like you can do,” he said. “But I love you.”

I love you, love you, love you.

He settled the plate on Leo’s lap and watched as he took a bite, humming as he chewed. He held out the toast for Finn. Another crack of thunder rang out, but Logan hardly heard. He was warm in one of those softly glowing apartments he’d seen from the street. The sun was going to rise soon and Leo and Finn were tucked close to him. Their faces were tear-streaked, noses still sniffling, and it wasn’t quite their summer. Not yet.

Outside it was raining and thundering, but inside it was beginning to feel to Logan like their storm was passing by.

#vaincre lumosinlove #coops #hockey au #finnlo #sunfish #lelo #o'knutzy

157 notes · View notes

gotham--fc · 2 months

Text

Torn - A Megan Keller Imagine

R is Canadian and gets hurt really bad in a rivalry series game, her and Megan try to cope

lowkey inspired by an actual real life person I know who had a torn labrum for almost 4 years because sports med refused to take her seriously

this was supposed to be short and quick but ended up being around 4k words..... enjoy!

Megan wishes she couldn’t remember what happened with such clarity. She wishes she was looking the other way, or was across the ice, or back in the locker room completely.

She teased Y/N for weeks leading up to the game. At every Boston practice she would ask to be on a different scrimmage team so she could get practice going against her. She would refuse to sit next to Y/N on the team bus so she could get her head in the rivalry. Y/N rolled her eyes and took everything Megan gave her and gave it right back.

The game was tense and physical right from the start. It always is and everyone’s prepared for it. It’s a close game, both teams pushing to pull ahead. It’s late in the second period and Y/N goes to dig the puck out from the boards behind the US’s net. Megan gets there before her teammates and she presses up against Y/N’s back and jams her stick at the puck.

“Give me the puck or I will dump you,” Keller says. Y/N snorts.

“At least try and chirp something believable at me.”

Y/N pokes the puck free and skates after it. Keller reacts a second too late, and Abby Roque skates up to Y/N from the other side. Keller watches it happen. She watches Abby drop her shoulder and watches her slam into Y/N. Y/N’s focused on the puck, she doesn’t see it coming. Keller watches as Roque slams Y/N into the boards and Keller knows it’s a pen right away when she saw Roque drop her shoulder, and then Y/N hits the boards, her stick and arm twisted up and then she screams.

Keller feels her blood run cold.

Y/N collapses on the ice, screaming, and she writhes on the ice clutching at her shoulder. The ref blows the whistle and points to Roque but Keller isn’t paying attention. Y/N won’t stop screaming. The crowd goes silent, not that Keller was paying any attention to them, but that means she can hear Y/N’s screams in more clarity.

Oh god, Megan’s never seen her in pain like this before.

Megan doesn’t move, doesn’t take her eyes off Y/N, even as the Canadian players go after Roque, even as Laura Stacey drops to her knees beside Y/N and tries to calm her down.

“I know,” Stacey says, “I know it hurts. Try to keep still. Stop screaming.” Stacey’s hands are everywhere, on Y/N’s shoulders, on her arms, her chest, pulling her helmet off.

“Please, stop screaming,” Stacey says, “I know it hurts.”

Y/N screams and cries so hard she gags.

“Stop screaming,” Stacey keeps saying.

She keeps saying it even when the medical staff comes out onto the ice. She keeps saying it when they assess Y/N. She keeps saying it when they help her up and start to lead her off the ice. Y/N’s stopped screaming so loud, but she keeps making pained sounds as they move her. Keller doesn’t even realize she’s following them until she gets to the Canada bench and Marie Philip Poulin stops her with a hand on her chest and a shove that feels rougher than it is.

“Go back to your bench Keller,” Poulin says.

In a daze, Keller skates to her bench. She can’t pay attention to anything her coach says. Her head feels underwater and her teammates all pat her on the back and try to comfort her, but she can’t hear it. All she can hear is Y/N’s screams.

***

It’s the worst pain Y/N’s ever felt.

She’s had shoulder problems for a while, but nothing she couldn’t play through. She’s been to physio and to sports med and they all tell her the same thing. It’s her posture, she’s too tense, she needs massages, or physio exercises, it’s nothing medically wrong. It’s frustrating having a constant dull ache in her shoulder that only gets worse when she moves it, but she can play hockey and she can get through it. Besides, if there’s nothing to be done, then what can she do?

The medical staff leads her back to the locker room and help her out of her jersey and her pads so they can assess her shoulder. She can’t move her shoulder at all, and screams in pain as they try to gently maneuver her pads off. Finally, she’s left in just her undershirt and sports bra. They determine that’s there more structural issues with her shoulder than they can handle (duh) and they decide she needs to go the hospital to get checked out.

“Wait,” Y/N speaks up for the first time since she hit the boards, “I wanna stay for the game.”

“We can’t medically clear you to get back on the ice,” One of the medics says, “I’m sorry, but you have to get x-rays and possibly an MRI. We need to take you to the hospital.”

“I just wanna stay for the end,” Y/N says, “I don’t wanna play. I’ll stay in here. I don’t wanna go alone. I don’t want to go to the hospital alone. Please. Let someone else come with me.”

Y/N knows they don’t want to, she knows they want her to go to the hospital right away, and Y/N knows she should, but she also knows she’s not in the mindset to be stuck in a hospital all night alone. She knows she won’t be able to pay attention to anything that the doctors tell her, and she won’t be able to ask the questions she knows she should ask. Finally, one of the medical staff sighs.

“Fine. We’ll talk to Troy at intermission.”

***

After the game, Y/N gets loaded into a non-emergency ambulance with Laura Stacey.

Her shoulder feels like it’s on fire and the makeshift sling she’s in doesn’t keep her shoulder from jostling. The medical staff are on her one side, Stacey on the other, and Y/N just wants to curl up in bed and cry. They’re walking from the locker rooms to the exit door and Y/N doesn’t react to the pounding footsteps behind them.

“Y/N!” Megan calls. Y/N’s foot falters, then keeps going. She knows she’ll fall apart if she looks at Megan right now. “Wait, wait, what’s wrong? How bad is it? Are you going back to the hotel?”

“Keller,” Stacey stops and puts her hands out, stopping Megan from getting any closer. “It’s okay, she’s okay. She’s going to get checked out. We’re not going to be back at the hotel until the morning probably. There’s nothing you can do right now, just give her some space. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Wait, wait, I can come with, I can…” Megan’s voice gets increasingly frantic, “Please, let me do something.”

“Let’s go Megs,” Now it’s Hilary’s Knight’s voice. She shepherds Megan away. Megan resists, but she leaves with Hilary.

Y/N wants to feel bad. She wants to feel bad that she didn’t turn around, that she didn’t look at Megan or talk to her or tell her everything’s going to be okay. She wants to be, but she’s not. She’s in too much pain to care about anything right now.

***

Megan stays up all night. She sits in the bathroom, staring at her phone in her hand and waiting for it to ring. Hilary’s her roommate for this camp and she banished Megan to the bathroom after her restless movements and phone light kept Hilary from sleeping.

She barely resists texting Y/N, knowing that she probably can’t answer. She doesn’t know how bad the damage is, but with how Y/N was screaming, it can’t be good.

Oh god.

Megan doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the sound of Y/N screaming.

She felt helpless on the ice, and she feels helpless now. Stacey is right. There’s nothing she can do, nothing any of them can do now. Megan itches to do something. Her knees bobs constantly, she picks at her fingernails, tries to google shoulder injuries and then closes Safari when she starts reading about the worst shoulder injuries athletes can get.

She texts Stacey again, having got her number from Hilary who got it from Poulin.

any updates?

how is she feeling? is it as bad as it looked?

Stacey doesn’t respond.

Megan stands up, paces the tiny bathroom, then sits down again.

***

“See this here?”

Y/N has done ultrasounds and x-rays and an MRI. She’s been passed around for test after test and none of them help make her feel better. Her shoulder hurts and she’s been crying since they left the rink. The nurses are nice, but it’s clear they know how bad things are, and they pity her. Stacey is with her when she can, but Y/N knows she knows it’s bad too.

The doctors came in and pulled up her scans on the screens. Y/N tries to look at them, but she doesn’t know anything about this medical stuff. She doesn’t know what a shoulder is supposed to look like.

“This is an old injury,” The doctor continues, “A torn labrum. It looks months old, which most likely contributed to your shoulder instability. Have you been in any pain? Have you gotten your shoulder checked out?" Y/N nods.

“Physio did an x-ray,” She says, “Said nothing was wrong.”

“Right, these types of injuries are very hard to spot on an x-ray. It’s why we recommend an MRI for shoulder injuries. As you can see…”

Y/N zones out as he talks. She doesn’t understand what he’s saying and all she knows is her shoulder hurts and she just wants to go home.

“What kind of timeline are we looking at?” Stacey asks. This is why Y/N wanted someone else here. She knew she wouldn’t be in the headspace to ask the doctors anything.

“Well, after the surgery, she’ll be at least six weeks in a sling. Then depending on how the shoulder’s recovered, there will be three, four months of physio to get mobility back and build her strength back. Probably another two, three months, before she can be cleared to get back on the ice.”

“But, she’ll come back? She’ll make a full recovery?”

“That’s the hope,” The doctor says, “Every injury is different and it’s hard to create an exact timeline at this stage. Physio will build strength and mobility and if all goes well, she’ll be perfectly fine to play; however, if the stability never recovers, I would say it’s unlikely she’ll get back on the ice. But, that’s worst case scenario. Surgery should repair the torn ligaments and muscle, and then if she keeps up with her physio and doesn’t push too hard and set herself back, I’d say she has a good chance of getting back on the ice.”

“Thanks doctor,” Stacey says.

The doctor leaves and Stacey sits on Y/N’s good side and takes her hand. Y/N doesn’t look over, just stares at the wall.

“You’re going to be fine,” Stacey says, “You’re in good hands. I have complete faith in you.”

The doctor is in the hall talking to the team medical staff, Y/N can hear their voices. She knows she’s not having surgery here. She doesn’t know where she’ll get it. She supposes it’s up to the medical staff. A nurse comes in and gives her a few pills. For the pain, she says. Y/N takes them without complaint.

“Megan wants to know what’s going on,” Stacey says, “What do you want me to tell her?”

“I want a new physio.”

***

on our way back to the hotel. looking at a six month recovery at least. she's in a lot of pain. I’m taking her to her room to get some rest. talk more in the morning

Megan reads Stacey’s text over and over again. She debates going down to the lobby to meet them. She debates going to Y/N’s room. She debates calling Stacey. She debates going to bed.

In the end, she decides to get some ice. She takes the ice bucket down the hall to the machine and fills it. She sits in the hallway and crunches on the ice cubes. She takes the bucket with her as she heads back to her room. She debates going downstairs and going out on the back patio, but she knows she’ll only end up in the lobby. She goes out onto the balcony. It’s chilly outside, but she grabbed a hoodie to wear before she went outside. Her room is at the back of the hotel, so she can’t even look out and see if she can see Y/N coming back.

She chews another ice cube.

***

In the morning, Knight finds her passed out on the balcony, the ice bucket just water. She tipped it over at some point during the night and the water seeped into her socks, making her grimace.

“Have you heard anything?” Knight asks as she tugs her wet socks off.

“It’s bad,” Keller says, “Stacey wouldn’t tell me details. Six month recovery, she said.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” Hilary says, “She’s tough as hell, she’ll be fine.”

Megan heads down for team breakfast and tries to see if she can spot any of the Canadian players. She sees Jamie Lee Rattray and beelines it for her. She puts up her hand before Megan makes it to her.

“I don’t know any more than you do,” Ratty says, “None of us have seen her yet and Stace isn’t saying anything.”

“Do you know where she is? I want to see her,” Megan says, “Can you tell her to find me or call me or something? She didn’t…” Megan swallows heavily, “She didn’t even look at me.”

Ratty puts her hand on Megan’s arm.

“I’ll let her know you’re looking for her when I see her.”

Megan doesn’t end up seeing Y/N. She does see Laura Stacey and follows her around the hotel while asking every question she can possibly think of. Stacey informs Megan of what the doctor said, what the extent of the injury is. Megan sees red when Stacey tells her Y/N’s been complaining about shoulder pain but her physio told her it was nothing.

“I’m going to kill him,” Megan seethes, “How can he just ignore a persistent problem? And now she’s hurt because he wouldn’t do anything!”

“You can’t do anything about it now,” Stacey says, “None of us can. It sucks and it’s frustrating but all we can do now is deal.”

“I need to see her,” Megan says, “I need to see if she’s okay.”

“She’s not up to seeing anyone right now,” Stacey says. She sighs. “I’ll talk to her, but she’s tired and she’s in pain and she’s upset and I think she needs some space right now. You have to let her come to you.”

***

Megan sees Y/N later that night. She’s in the lobby waiting for food her and Hilary ordered, when Y/N steps off the elevator. Her arm is in a sling and she looks exhausted. She has a group of Canadian players with her, and they’re talking loudly and joking around, but Y/N is quiet, walking a beat behind them. Megan puts her phone away, food delivery be damned, and she heads for the group.

“Y/N,” Megan says when she’s close enough. Y/N glances at her for a second then she looks away and walks quicker to catch up with the group.

Megan doesn’t react, in shock at the reaction, and then her phone starts ringing as her delivery driver arrives.

***

Megan keeps seeing Y/N. She’s never alone. Megan knows Y/N well enough to know that she would hole herself up in her hotel room if someone didn’t force her out, and on one hand Megan is glad that her teammates can get her out and hopefully keep her spirits up, but Megan also wishes she could be that. She wishes Y/N would let her help. Every time Megan sees her, Y/N avoids her. She turns the other way, or she clings to whoever is closest to her and refuses to even look at Megan.

She sees Y/N talking to Abby Roque, smiling, laughing, and Abby touches her good arm and Megan wants to scream.

Y/N flees before Megan can reach them.

***

Y/N can’t sleep.

Her shoulder hurts, but she can’t take her pain meds because she skipped dinner because eating makes her feel sick. And since she can only use one arm, eating is an ordeal and she’s tired of having to ask her teammates for help like a child.

She lays in bed, awake, for an hour before she sneaks out of bed. She doesn’t even bother changing, still in her pjs, ragged shorts and a faded tee shirt that used to belong to Megan. She walks up the two flights of stairs it takes to get to the USA floor and she stops in front of Megan’s door. It’s late and she doesn’t want to wake up Megan’s roommate. She doesn’t want to be a bother.

She pulls out her phone and texts Megan.

u up

at ur door

cnt sleep

wana c u

She doesn’t get a response, and she should’ve expected Megan would be asleep. It’s late and just because she can’t sleep doesn’t mean Megan can’t either. She slides down the wall until she’s sitting on the floor. She’s tired and hurting and she just wants to see Megan. She debates calling her, but that would wake up her roommate too. And she doesn’t think she should wake Megan either. She’s been a shit girlfriend lately.

She rests her head on her bent knees even though it makes her shoulder hurt. She should get up and go back to bed before anyone notices she’s out here. She shouldn’t be here, in this hotel, with her team. She should go home, she should get surgery, she should start her recovery, not sit on the hotel floor outside her girlfriend’s room. Outside of Megan who might not be her girlfriend anymore’s room.

The door opens.

“Y/N?”

It takes Megan a second to see her.

“Hey,” Y/N says, her voice rough. She tries to stand, but her shoulder hurts and she just ends up on her knees biting back a groan.

Megan steps out into the hallway and helps her up. Y/N doesn’t say anything else, just stares at Megan’s hand that stays on her elbow.

“Do you wanna come in?” Megan asks. Y/N shakes her head.

“Roommate.”

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

Y/N follows Megan through the hotel, not really sure where they’re going and not really paying attention. Eventually Megan leads Y/N to an empty conference room they’ve been having team meetings in.

“Are you okay?” Megan asks after she closes the door.

Y/N takes a step forward, and then another, until she can lean all her weight onto Megan. She shakes her head against Megan’s chest and lets out a sob, then a pained noise when it hurts her shoulder. Megan holds her, whispering softly to her, until Y/N’s sobs die down.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Megan asks. Y/N shakes her head.

“I just wanna go to sleep,” Y/N says, “But my shoulder hurts. I want… I just want to play hockey.”

“I’m sorry,” Megan says, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been a bad girlfriend.”

“It’s okay. You’re hurt.”

“I just wanted to keep it together. I just wanted to be strong and… and… I can’t do that with you. You’re… I don’t have to be anything else with you, so I can’t be. I knew I’d lose it if I saw you, or talked to you. And… I’m embarrassed.” Y/N’s mumbling by the end of her speech.

“Embarrassed about what?”

“I was screaming so loud,” Y/N whispers, “I could hear it but I didn’t realize it was me until Stace told me to stop. I’m embarrassed because I scared everyone. Because I knew I had shoulder problems and I played through them. Because I listened to my physio and I didn’t get a second opinion. Because I let him convince me it was my fault. That I avoided you. That I hurt you.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Megan says decisively, “You are not a medical professional. You trusted your physio and sports med and they let you down. You did nothing wrong. It sucks that this happened but it was not your fault.”

“I hurt you.”

“It was hard being shut out. I can’t lie, it really sucked. I didn’t know what to do or how to fix it and you just looked so miserable every time I saw you and I just wanted to run to you and hold you and everyone just kept telling me to leave you alone. I just want to help.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. You got dealt a shit hand and you’re allowed to process any way you want to. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

Y/N sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“I have to get surgery to reconstruct my whole shoulder,” She says, “It’ll be weeks before I can get out of the sling and then months to get mobility back and then months to build my strength and grip back and after all of that I might never play hockey again. I might never get full mobility back, or my shoulder might be too unstable still to play hockey. It might take years to get to 100% and by then…” Y/N trails off.

“You can’t focus on the future right now. Yes all of that sucks, but you have to focus on the next steps. You can’t look at the finish line, you just have to look at what’s next. That’s surgery. Don’t focus on anything after, just on that. And you have the best medical staff with you and you have a whole country behind you. And me. I’ll always be here rooting you on.”

“I just want to play hockey. I want to sleep so bad.”

“Let’s go to bed then.”

“My shoulder,” Y/N says, “I can’t take my pain meds on an empty stomach.”

“Good thing I have food in my room.”

“Megs,” Y/N says frustrated, “I can’t eat. I only have one fucking hand. I’m tired of being treated like a child.”

“It’s a sandwich,” Megan answers, “You can eat it one handed. And then pain meds and then sleep. Okay?”

Y/N sniffs, then agrees. Megan leads her up to her hotel room. Y/N doesn’t know how to act, and Megan keeps fidgeting and picking at her fingers, and it’s Y/N’s fault, that they don’t know what they’re allowed to do.

“We can sit on the balcony,” Megan says when they get close to the room, “If you’re worried about Hil waking up. I don’t care, she can deal. But if you’d rather not, we can sit on the balcony.”

“Okay.”

Y/N sits on the balcony while Megan gets the sandwiches. They eat in silence, which Y/N is grateful for, until she realizes that Megan might not be saying anything because she might not have anything to say to her.

“I really am sorry,” Y/N says, “For being shitty to you. I don’t know… I don’t…” Y/N was determined not to cry, but now she can feel her eyes watering and knows she can’t stop it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you, please don’t…” Y/N’s full on crying now, “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Megan drops her sandwich and rushes to Y/N’s side. “I’m not breaking up with you. I love you too.”

“I’m so awful to you.”

“No,” Megan cups Y/N’s face and forces Y/N to look at her, “Something shitty happened to you and you coped with it the best you could. This… hiccup doesn’t ruin what we have and it doesn’t make me want to leave you. I don’t know what I’d do without you either and I was so scared that you would leave me that I tried to give you space and back off if you didn’t want me around so that you wouldn’t. We’ll get through this baby, I’m not leaving you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

They finish their sandwiches, each eating one handed, Y/N with her one arm in a sling and Megan with one hand on Y/N’s knee. Megan helps Y/N take her pain meds and, despite Y/N’s protests, into Megan’s bed. They’re not technically allowed to do this, sleep in each other’s rooms, but Megan thinks no one will be upset at them this time. It takes a minute to find a comfortable position for Y/N to lay in, but once the meds kick in, she’s out like a light. Megan stays up for a little longer, looking at Y/N, and being grateful that they’re on the road to recovery and vowing to be by Y/N’s side every step of the way.

#megan keller #megan keller imagine #uswnt imagines #hockey imagine #womens hockey imagine #hockey rpf #uswnt hockey #woho #woho imagine

88 notes · View notes

tkwrites · 6 months

Text

Worth the Wait - Quinn Hughes x ofc

photos from pinterest

Title: Worth the Wait

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Swearing, grief, mentions of a dead mother. Mostly, it’s fluff.

Summary: It takes more than a week, but Quinn and Sarah finally go on their second date.

Word count: 5,500

Comments: This one is a little long, but I felt like all the parts were needed to flesh out the characters the way I wanted. I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 is being planned as we speak!

Worth the Wait

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Hey Sarah, I just wanted to let you know we’re headed out on the road, so I’ll be out of town for the next week.

Quinn sent this message before boarding the plane. He’d never done something like this before - tell someone he was interested in that he wouldn’t be home. He didn’t want Sarah to think he was ignoring her, or putting off their next date.

Can I see you when you get back?

Definitely, he sent, a giddy, effervescent feeling in his stomach.

The following evening, for the first time in her life, Sarah sat down to watch a hockey game.

Eunice was in their living room, anxiously awaiting the start of the game. Currently watching people talk about betting odds in her Canucks t-shirt, a stuffed orca on the cushion next to her.

Sarah had lived with Eunice for a little over a year. They were friends in the way two people coming together for convenience could be friends. She was nice and sweet, and made the best mac & cheese Sarah had ever eaten. She was also dramatic and had a borderline obsessive love for many things, including the Canucks. Sarah had never paid much attention to that particular obsession, as it didn’t cross over into her life, until now.

“You okay?” Eunice asked when Sarah sat down.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You never watch hockey with me, I thought maybe you were sad or something.”

“Oh, no, my project is done, so I’m free for the night and thought I’d join.”

Eunice squealed and threw her arms around Sarah, “I’m so excited to introduce you to the best sport in the world!”

Feeling instantly overwhelmed, Sarah put on a brave face, and watched as the national anthem began to play. The camera scanned over the players, 5 stood separate from the others in a line, and her heart jumped into her throat when Quinn’s face came across the screen. He looked impassively at the camera. He seemed so different than when they had met, determined and competitive, not so quiet and interested. It was strange to reconcile the two as the same person.

“What does the C mean?”

“It means he’s the captain. That’s Quinn Hughes. He’s like, the best defenseman in the league.”

"Isn't he a little small to play defense?" Sarah asked, surprised.

Eunice looked personally affronted. "Hughes is an amazing skater, which is the most important thing in being a good defenseman. Defense in Hockey is more tactical than super physical."

When the game finally began, Sarah was instantly overwhelmed. They moved so quickly, and it was damn near impossible for her to keep track of the puck. There were terms being thrown around by the commentators that were so niche, she didn’t even know where to begin figuring them out.

“What’s icing?” she asked when there was a commercial break.

“So, it’s when a team shoots the puck to the other end of the rink, but no one is there to receive it.”

She knew that wasn’t quite right. There were plenty of times before the break when that very thing happened, but no icing was called, and couldn’t the goalie receive it and negate that altogether?

“And there’s no out of bounds?”

“Nope. Just the rink. You can get penalized for shooting the puck over the glass though.”

The game continued, and after a scuffle, Quinn skated off to sit by himself.

“Why is he there?”

“He got a penalty. High sticking,” Eunice said without any additional explanation.

The announcers replayed the offense in slower motion, showing how in the midst of a play, Quinn had accidentally hit another player in the jaw with his stick.

“That doesn’t seem like it should be a penalty when it was an accident,” Sarah said. The other guy wasn’t even bleeding.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s part of the game. Keep control of your stick all the time.”

The camera moved back to Quinn in the little cell. He removed his helmet and rubbed a towel over his face and hair before replacing it.

Eunice sighed dramatically, “God, he’s so hot.”

Sarah had to agree. He did look hot - supremely so. Flushed and sweaty, it was difficult to keep her mind off imagining him in her bed like that.

“Wait, why is it 4 against 5?” Sarah asked as the game began again.

“Cause Hughes got a penalty,” Eunice said, as if this was all the explanation Sarah should need.

Sarah stopped asking questions. Every time Eunice had tried to explain something in the past, she would get so excited, she would leave out key points, or assume Sarah had background knowledge she didn’t, and Sarah would end up even more confused. She often had to look up whatever they were talking about after their conversation anyway.

The period ended, and Eunice left the living room.

Sarah continued reading the article about the basics of hockey she had pulled up on her phone at the last commercial break. She wished she could watch with someone who would patiently explain each rule as it passed in the game. She had learned Football from her dad that way. Maybe Quinn could explain it to her.

“Okay, so what’s really up?” Eunice asked when she returned, plopping back down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bag of caramels.

“What do you mean?”

Holding up one finger, she said, “you’re watching hockey with me,” she held up a second, “you’re trying to understand it,” a third finger went up, “and you’re, like, actually interested in sports?”

“I’m interested in sports,” Sarah defended. “We’re a football family. My uncle coached.”

“Whatever,” she waved her hand dismissively, “it’s a dumb American sport anyway.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, but didn’t take the bait.

“All I’m saying is that we’ve lived together for over a year, and you have never, not once, expressed any kind of interest in Hockey and I want to know what changed.”

The commercials ended and the camera cut to someone interviewing Quinn, who was in his full kit sans helmet. He answered questions in the same quiet, methodical way he had answered her on their date. Only this time, he said a lot of words without actually saying much of anything.

Sarah chewed on her lip.

“Did you finally discover how hot hockey players are?” Eunice teased.

“I don’t -” Sarah cut off, pushing a breath out her nose in frustration.

She was about to tell Eunice that hot guys were not the only reason she watched sports, only to realize that that’s precisely what she was doing.

“I met him,” she finally admitted.

“You met who?”

“Quinn,” Sarah said, gesturing to the TV.

“Met? You MET Quinn Hughes?” Eunice asked, turning in slow motion to look at Sarah. “When?!”

Sarah started, “on Monday.”

“Where? What? How?” Eunice demanded, her voice getting progressively louder with each word.

“He came into the aquarium, asked some questions after one of my talks, and then asked if I wanted to get lunch.”

“He asked you to lunch?” Eunice repeated.

“Yeah, we went to get bao.”

“Like on a date?”

“I think so. I mean, he paid, and he got my phone number aft-”

“Quinn Hughes asked you for your phone number,” Eunice thundered, “and you didn’t think to tell me about it?”

It probably wasn’t the right time for Sarah to point out that she and Eunice really didn’t have that kind of a relationship. In fact, Sarah hadn’t told anyone but Beth, her best friend from back home, who had been thrilled Sarah had finally met a good guy.

“Sorry,” Eunice said, settling on the couch like a proper lady in a period drama, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out.”

Sarah wasn’t sure how she should react. She hadn’t intended on telling Eunice at all, worried - justly, it turned out - that she would freak.

“But oh my fucking God,” Eunice yelled, throwing her hands up and breaking her posture to flop dramatically into a slouch.

“What’s going on?” Jane asked, leaning in the door frame, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Quinn Hughes asked Sarah for her phone number,” Eunice declared, gesturing to Sarah as if she were the reason Jane was up early before her graveyard shift, not her own yelling.

Jane perked awake, “really?”

“Yeah,” Eunice said, sounding like a petulant teenager.

“Oh my God. I didn’t think this was a big deal,” Sarah said, putting her head in her hands.

“That the most eligible bachelor in the whole city of Vancouver asked you for your number? I’d say that’s a pretty big fuckin deal.”

“He’s just a guy, Eunice.”

“I’d beg to differ," Jane cut in. “It is a pretty big deal.”

“So he’s not a guy?”

Both women rolled their eyes at her.

“Of course he’s a guy,” Eunice said, exasperated.

“But he’s not ‘just’ a guy,” Jane said, air quotes and all. “He’s a little more than that, I think.”

“Why? Because he’s a professional athlete?”

“Yeah. And millions of women across the world want to marry him.”

“He’s handsome and all, but I can’t believe that’s true,” Sarah said. “Do millions of women even watch hockey?”

At the fierce glares she received from both of her Canadian roommates, Sarah held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. Maybe millions of women watch hockey, and some of them find him attractive. But for my purposes, he’s just a guy. He was just a guy on our date.”

“It's not about you,” Jane said.

Sarah raised her eyebrows in a challenge.

“What we mean is that it’s a big freaking deal that Quinn asked for your number.”

She reeled back, “Is it so hard to believe that he would be attracted to me?”

“No!” they both shouted, Eunice exasperated while Jane was horrified.

“Of course he’s attracted to you. Look at you.”

“I think what Eunice means is that Quinn Hughes has celebrity status in this city, and so him asking for your number means that he saw something really special in you. Women throw themselves at him every day.”

Sarah wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“It’s like, a major, major compliment,” Eunice said.

Biting her tongue, Sarah resisted the urge to tell her that it was a major compliment if anyone asked for her number, celebrity status or not.

“So, are you going out again?” Eunice asked, sitting back down on the couch.

“I mean, we said we would, but he’s out of town until next week, so I guess we will when he gets back?”

“Oh man,” Eunice said, leaning back in her seat. “You are living such a fanfiction right now.”

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes.

Jane yawned. “I’m going back to bed. I have to be at the hospital at 2 in the morning.”

“I’m sorry we woke you up,” Sarah said.

Shaking her head, Jane smiled. “I’m glad Quinn saw the same things the rest of us do. If anyone deserves a fanfiction love story, it’s you.”

Heat raced into her cheeks, and Sarah smiled, turning back to the TV as the game began again.

“I cannot believe this,” Eunice said, picking up the stuffed whale to clutch in her hands. “You’ve got to introduce me to Kuzmenko.”

“Who?”

A few nights later, Quinn was slipping into a dinner booth in St. Louis when his phone pinged with a message.

Hey, I don't know what your schedule is next week, but The Electric is showing the Star Wars movies starting Sunday if you want to catch one together?

His heart jumped into his throat so fast, he made a sort of gasping choking nose that had Elias clapping him on the back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, clearing his throat.

“Who is that from?” Petey asked quietly.

Quinn was suddenly overwhelmingly thankful that he wasn’t sitting next to anyone else, who surely would have made a big scene of announcing that he got a text about a date to everyone in the near vicinity. Petey knew he preferred his privacy, and always respected that.

“Remember that girl I was telling you about last week? The one from the aquarium?”

His eyebrows shot up, “that’s her?” he asked, nodding at the phone.

Quinn nodded.

As Elias watched, Quinn pulled up their practice and game schedules.

Sounds awesome. I’m back in town Wednesday and free on Thursday or Saturday nights.

Almost immediately, the icon of her typing appeared. His heart began to hammer a little harder, pulsing in his throat in that nervous, I-can’t-wait-to-talk-to-her way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Thursday is The Empire Strikes Back, so I’m guessing that’s our choice. Unless you’d rather see the Force Awakens on Saturday?

Thursday is great.

Cool. I’ll get us tickets. Showtime is at 7 and they have a special menu for dinner and drinks at 6.

Sounds great.

It was as simple as that. Quinn had never had a date planned so smoothly.

Her text bubble popped up again, before going away. He gulped some of his nervousness down.

When he clicked off the screen and looked at Elias, he found the other man smiling at him knowingly.

“What?”

“I didn’t think she existed.”

“Sarah? You thought I was making her up?”

Petey rolled his eyes, “No. I didn’t think the girl you always talk about wanting to date existed. But she’s right there,” he gestured to Quinn’s phone.

Feeling his cheeks flush, Quinn shrugged to deflect the wave of sincere agreement that washed over him by busing himself with the menu.

Leaving her last class, Sarah was beyond thankful to leave campus and go home. She was exhausted to the bone. It had been a hard week of studying and midterms. On top of that, nervous, excited energy was buzzing under her skin in anticipation of her date with Quinn that evening.

When she got home and finally pulled her phone from her bag, she found a missed call from him. Stomach dropping, worry billowed into her thoughts like smoke. He was probably calling to say he couldn’t come. Why else would he call when they’d only texted so far?

Rapid fire, her thoughts rifled through friends that might want to come to the movie before she snapped back to herself. This was her anxiety talking. It wasn’t the truth.

Taking the time to pull in a few deep breaths, she told herself he could be calling about something other than canceling. It took eight breaths before she felt calm enough to call him back.

The phone rang three times before he answered. “Hey.”

“Hi, sorry I missed you earlier, I was in my last midterm.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wincing. That was one thing he didn’t miss about college. There wasn’t a lot, but the pressure of midterms and finals were something he was happy to live the rest of his life without.

“Well, it’s done now, so I’m just excited to take a nap.”

He laughed.

“So what’s up?” she asked, trying, and failing, to not sound nervous.

“I wondered where I should pick you up tonight,” he said.

Relief sighed through her legs and she sunk onto the bed. “I was planning to meet you there.”

“I can come pick you up,” he offered. There was no need for her to take the train when he could drive them.

This was always an awkward conversation, but one she’d constructed with her therapist to ease her anxiety. If someone didn’t respect this, it was a sure sign she didn’t want to date them. “Quinn, you seem like a great guy, but I don’t want you to pick me up. I don’t know you very well.”

A long pause passed over the phone. She wondered if she was going to have to explain this concept to him.

Honestly, Quinn hadn’t heard that line in a long time. He knew from friends that women often did this to protect themselves, but something about his presence in the media made women trust him implicitly. He hadn’t taken advantage of that - he would never - but it had infiltrated his thoughts before, how easy it would be.

She stood up for herself, and kept herself safe, and he respected her for that. “That makes sense,” he said.

It was so much easier than she’d been expecting, that Sarah had a hard time coming up with words.

“So I’ll meet you there?” he said when she didn’t say anything.

“Great.”

“What time?”

“Dinner starts at 6, so I figured like 6:15?”

“Great. I’ll meet you out front?”

“Sounds great.”

They said some pleasant goodbyes and she flopped back on the bed. Karma was really seeing this one though. Nice, interested, a bit nerdy, and respectful, not to mention handsome, Sarah had hardly allowed herself to dream up a guy like Quinn. And now, here he was, suddenly in her life. A feeling like she’d just drunk champagne began to fizz in her stomach. A smile spread over her face as she hugged her pillow and set an alarm.

Walking up to the theater, Quinn wiped his hands on his jeans, hoping he wasn’t about to revert back into a teenage boy with sweaty palms. He had to pee again. Nerves always shrunk his bladder. It hadn't happened in a game since he was ten, but other places - getting on a stage, press conferences, dates - always made him nervous.

The theater was an old fashioned, stand alone cement building. A ticket booth complete with marquee lights sat between two sets of French doors. Sarah was already there, leaning against the wall, looking up at the building across the street. It surprised him she wasn't on her phone.

“Hey,” he said as he got closer.

“Hi,” she said, meeting his eyes with a smile that made his stomach ache. Her lips were darker, making them stand out a little more. His eyes were drawn to them like a magnet.

She slipped her arms around his neck for a hug. It felt so natural this time as he pulled her into his chest.

As she broke away, she asked, “ready?”

He nodded, and she walked over to the ticket window, “I have a reservation for two under Roberts.”

The teenager working looked up from his phone. His gaze drifted past her. “You’re Quinn Hughes,” he said, mouth falling open.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up man?” Quinn said as if someone hadn’t just told him who he was.

The employee - who couldn’t have been more than sixteen - was still staring at Quinn, even when he didn’t say anything else.

“You’re coming to the show tonight?” he finally asked.

Sarah had never felt so looked over in her life. It wasn’t that she was jealous. She would never want that kind of attention, but there was common decency not being met here.

“We’re trying to,” she said, not unkindly, nudging him back to her reservation.

The boy started. He blinked a few times before he said, “sorry, what was the name?”

“Sarah Roberts.”

As they walked into the foyer. The ticket clerk slipped out of the booth, and came up to them, “hey man, I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I get an autograph? My girlfriend is a huge fan.”

Quinn nodded, and reached for the paper and pen he held out.

“Thanks so much, enjoy your show!”

As soon as they turned around, a harried looking woman with flyaway strawberry blonde hair came rushing up to them. “Mr. Hughes, we’re so glad you can be with us tonight.” Apparently, Mr. “you’re Quinn Hughes” had spread the news.

He gave her a polite smile.

“I just wanted to let you know, we upgraded your reservations to one of our more private love seats in the back.”

“That’s very nice, but it’s not necessary,” he said, feeling embarrassed. Sarah was never going to go out with him again if their first date was under this much of a microscope.

“Oh, no,” she said with a strained smile, “I insist.”

Sarah looked up at him, wondering what was going to happen here.

“Well, thank you,” he said, knowing that arguing would only draw more attention. So far, the other patrons were ignoring them, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“Let me show you to your new seats.” She led them to a plush couch tucked into the back of the theater. No neighbors and a perfect view of the screen. No one would even need to walk in front of them to get to the bar or the bathroom.

“Thanks so much,” Sarah said.

The woman walked away, and she turned to Quinn with wide eyes, “that was wild.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, his hand going to the back of his neck.

“Does that happen a lot?”

He shrugged, “sometimes. Most people are pretty cool, though.”

“I actually thought about reserving this, but it was like triple the price, and I’m on a grad school budget, so…” she trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she clasped her hands together.

“The seats we had before would have been great,” he said, “people make a fuss.” He knew this woman was probably hoping he would share the theater on his social media, but finding a place like this was hard enough. He didn’t want to ruin that by announcing it to the world.

Desperate to change the subject, he said, “Thanks for finding this. I didn’t know it was even here.”

“I didn’t either,” Sarah admitted, deciding they may as well enjoy the upgrade and sat down on the sofa. It was plush microfiber - incredibly soft to the touch - and very comfortable. It wasn’t like she was going to demand they go back to the standard seats she’d booked.

“How did you find it, then?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“I overheard someone talking about it on the train and looked it up. It looked cool, so here we are.”

He smiled at her, and her heart did a karate kick into her lungs. She sucked in a deep breath.

They made their way to the bar to order dinner and drinks. Everything was on theme, including Sarah’s cocktail that came out glowing bright blue with smoke billowing off the surface. She laughed, looking truly delighted with it. It made Quinn want to kiss her. Not that he hadn’t been thinking about that since they’d met, but something about the pure joy in her face when the bartender handed it over made the impulse even stronger.

The problem, she soon discovered, with the couch arrangement was the fact that their food and drinks ended up on the end tables - on opposite sides of the couch, making it nearly impossible to eat and have a conversation the way she wanted to.

After turning around for her drink for the third time, she let out a frustrated sigh. “Here, will you hold this?” she asked, handing him her glass.

Quinn accepted it and watched as she put her plate on the table, and moved it in front of the couch. She then tucked herself around it, and sat facing him, with one of her legs bent at the knee between them.

“At least for now,” she said, taking her drink back and setting it on the relocated table.

Quinn smiled. He never would have moved that table - too afraid to upset someone. He admired Sarah’s willingness to solve the issue at hand.

Her drink was still smoking when he set his beer bottle next to it. She'd let out the most adorable giggle with the first sip, scrunching her nose at the feel of the smoke.

“So, what made you choose Vancouver?” he asked, “I’m sure there are places in the States where you can study Marine Zoology.”

She was instantly impressed that he remembered her degree. Most people got the marine part right, but assumed she was a biologist.

“That’s kind of a long, complicated story, but basically, my mom died a year and a half years ago and -”

He cut in, “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“Thank you,” she gave him a sad smile.

“Anyway, there’s a little more to it, but I ended up here because my uncle lives here. I wanted to study the ocean, but I had to be close to family, and the only family I had close to the ocean was here, so that kind of made my decision for me.”

Bracing herself for sympathy, she looked into his eyes, only to find a more open, understanding expression on his handsome face. “That sucks about your mom. My dad lost his mom when I was like two, and he still talks about how hard it was. I know it was really devastating for him. I can't imagine how it felt for you."

She was so young - too young. She’d been his age. Even considering how long he'd been living away from his parents, it would be awful to lose his mom. She was the person he called for almost everything.

Tears pricked at her lower lashes. She blinked them away, busying herself with her drink to shut down that topic of conversation.

He laughed when her nose scrunched up again.

“I promise it’s really good,” she said, giggling, “the smoke just tickles.”

“Sure,” he teased, then added, "it's actually really cute."

Her gaze caught on the amused set of his mouth, and lingered there for a beat too long. Tearing her eyes away, she asked, “what about you? Why Vancouver?”

“Well, I was drafted here,” he said after swallowing his bite of salad.

“So you didn’t have a choice?”

“Yes and no. I toured and interviewed with a lot of clubs, and I liked it here along with a few other places. They knew how I felt, so they knew it would probably be a good fit. But the draft is always kind of a gamble. My brothers both went to New Jersey, which is pretty unheard of.”

“Your brothers play hockey too?”

He nodded.

“How many of you are there?”

“Just the three of us,” he said, “and a whole mess of cousins. What about you?”

“I have an older sister and an older brother. They still live in Nevada, and they both have a bunch of kids. My brother married my sister's best friend, so they’re all really, really close.”

She said it with a kind of sadness that Quinn knew well: a specific feeling that stemmed from your siblings being together while you were apart. Even though everyone was doing good things, it was still lonely to be the odd man out.

“I get that,” he said. “My brothers live together in Jersey, and my grandad’s there too, so I feel pretty separate sometimes.”

It was strange to Sarah how much they had in common. Both from families of three siblings, both in Vancouver because of a mix of circumstance and choice, both understood familial loss to at least some extent. She had never met a man like him.

The bartender announced the movie would start in 5 minutes.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she said. “Do you need anything on my way back?”

He shook his head.

When she came back to their little corner of the theater, she found a refreshed drink on the end table.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course.”

The movie started and it was instantly calming to her. Being there with Quinn felt like a special treat, like something out of a daydream.

When she lay her hand, palm up, in the small bit of love seat between them, Quinn was quick to pick it up, entwining their fingers. It felt a bit like he was fourteen again, just excited to hold a girl’s hand. He wanted to touch her all the time, but knew they weren’t there yet. He couldn’t wait to get to the point in the relationship when he could rest his hand on her thigh, or put an arm around her shoulders without it being a big deal. It felt so close, he could almost taste it.

Leaning progressively closer throughout the movie, Quinn finally put his arm around her. He had to stop himself from celebrating when she rested her head on his shoulder.

When the movie started winding down, Quinn began to wonder how exactly the end of the night was going to go. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he didn’t want to do that in the theater or the foyer, where prying eyes and cell phone cameras were in abundance. Maybe he could ask her if they could walk to his car so he could kiss her there? Or maybe he could take her to her building's parking garage? Every way he thought about asking her sounded fucking creepy.

He was still caught in that internal debate when the movie ended and the house lights went up. How was he going to do this? He could just come out and tell her, but it made him sound paranoid and more than a little full of himself.

“Could you walk me to the train station?” she asked, effectively ending his internal argument.

He bit back the suggestion that he could just drive her home. “Yeah. Sure, of course,” he said. Maybe there would be a dim corner he could tuck them into and kiss her.

The night air was cool, and humid when they stepped outside. Heart pounding, Sarah hoped he couldn’t feel it through their clasped hands.

“You’ll have to lead the way,” he said. “I don’t really take the train.”

“No?”

“Too many people.”

While holding his hand was nice, Sarah’s mouth had felt empty with yearning all night. A deep longing to kiss him had been purring in her chest for over a week now, and seeing him made it rumble even louder. From the way she caught him glancing at her mouth throughout the night, it seemed like he felt the same way.

There was a small, clean alleyway she’d spotted on her walk to the theater. As they passed it, she tugged him off the sidewalk, turned around so she could slide one hand over the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

Quinn sucked in a sort of shocked breath at her forwardness.

She pulled away just as he was registering what was happening and sinking into the kiss.

Taking her hands back, a blush searing her cheeks, she said, “I’m sorry, that was really presumptuous of me.” Hoping she hadn't just ruined everything, She tried to not feel rejected. Had she been reading the signs wrong?

“No,” Quinn said, his voice a little too loud.

It was so strange to him that their physical connection, which had always been the easiest part of his past relationships, seemed to be the only thing they fumbled over.

He cleared his throat, and slipped his hand up to cup her jaw, "no. I was just a little surprised.”

Seeing the longing in his face when she looked into his eyes kicked hers back into gear, ready to squeal off the pavement.

Leaning in closer, his breath caressed her lips as he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about this all week.”

A shiver raced down her spine at his confession. “Me too."

Pulling back just slightly, he looked into her face. It felt like he was standing at the edge of the most beautiful view he'd ever seen. He couldn't wait to jump over it.

She tipped up, and he leaned down, and when their lips met, a gentle sigh passed between them.

There was no awkwardness, no questioning of who would tip which way, or if it was too soon for tongue. No, Sarah just took advantage between kisses, and swept her tongue into his open mouth. He responded in kind, sliding his tongue along hers.

Her hands found their way into his hair in an attempt to pull him closer. The soft noise he gasped into her mouth made her fingertips tingle with a heady sense of satisfaction. Molten desire dripped into her veins.

Quinn let all his other thoughts fall away in favor of savoring this moment. He wanted to commit every second of it to memory. She tasted like the tart syrup used in her cocktail, and the smooth sweetness of the rum. Coupled with the vanilla, woodsy scent of her perfume, and her soft, skilled tongue, it was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever experienced. He never wanted to stop.

The world fell away.

Then, it came crashing back.

"Get a room!" someone yelled from the group of teenagers walking by.

He pulled away, just enough that he could feel her panting breaths rushing over his lips. He didn't want to let the moment slip away. Not when it had been so perfect.

"Can I make you dinner on Saturday?" he asked, still feeling a little breathless.

She paused, and he realized what he'd just implied. God, he wasn't thinking straight.

Pulling back, he rushed to explain, "I can bring it with me to a park or something. I just want to see you again."

A smile broke over her face, "I want to see you again, too."

Simple, straight to the point. Quinn felt some of his anxiety drop away.

"I'll think about where, but definitely yes to dinner."

He beamed.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#Quinn & Sarah Snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fan fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey romance #quinn hughes fanfiction

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starsandhughes · 1 year

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Penalty Box— Trevor Zegras (Part Twenty-Six)

SERIES MASTERLIST

previous: twenty-five

welcome to the final game day post of the season! thank you all for loving this series so much that it has developed into what it is now! i’ve got many surprises in store for the summer, and i can’t wait to share them! first surprise coming soon ;)

THURSDAY, APRIL 13TH

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liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, and 11,194 others

yourusername welcome to my final 2022-23 season penalty box update show (cue the sad awes)! buckle up and hold onto your butts and iced coffees buttercups because you are in for a WILD ride!

let’s start off with the highlights before i get into my boyfriend’s extra curricular activities for those who missed this beautiful monstrosity of a game! to start off this freeway faceoff rivalry, dad scored the opening goal goal 2:44 minutes in! so my dad of him! but alas, before the period ended a k*ng scored. there were three penalties this period: jonesy for cross checking, a k*ng for interfering with lundy, and a delay of game bench minor served by stromer. it was a very nice attempt to clear the goal, but alas, stromer was sent to pay for dallas’s crime.

second period was fairly mild, but almost halfway through, z-baby got his first penalty of the night (yes, you read that correctly) for hi-sticking! the spelling of this penalty cracks me up because it’s like “hi!! here’s my stick!! in your face!! as a gift!!” then mr. drew helleson got his first nhl penalty for hooking! congratulations! and lastly, a k*ng was sent to jail for attempted murder against dad. good riddance! love you, dad!

special note, here is what the commentators said sbout z’s first penalty: “i know trevor zegras is real good friends with jack hughes but he needs to take a page out of that book” (this is in reference to jack only have six minutes this season, and trevor after this penalty had 77. it has since increased.)

third period is when this gets wild, laid-eez! we started off strong with stromer getting a tripping penalty 4:40 in. THEN, z-baby was sent to the bin with seven seconds left in stromer’s penalty to serve the too many men bench minor, which was hilarious imo. as soon as stromer’s penalty ended, he hit the puck over the glass, and had to turn his ass around right back into the box for a delay of game penalty and this was the funniest thing i’ve ever witnessed. at 15:25, the chaos ensued. trevor was wrongly abused and he retaliated, causing a big ol scrum in front of the bench. the k*ng that committed the hate crime got a double minor for roughing against z, and grant got a roughing minor for roughing against said k*ng, as well as my cute lil psycho boyfriend. my said boyfriend ran his mouth a lil too much and received a misconduct that got him ejected from the game. NOT EVEN A MINUTE LATER, multiple fights broke out at once where “everybody chose a dance partner” (thank you commentators for that lovely quotes) which got jonesy and carrick both ejected with misconducts, and nesty had to serve carrick’s boarding penalty that started it all. i was THRILLED and having the time of my life to say the least!

to end, i would like to address that z and i have a long talk in the locker room, and i have received explicit permission from all guilty parties to post this. i also want to say how proud i am of this team for pushing through, and i’m sorry that you didn’t get the end you all wanted. i love each and every one of you!

and to my lovely z, congratulations on your 23rd goal tonight. congratulations on all other accomplishments this season and beating your previous career highs! i’ve seen you do some beautiful, mind blowing, magical things this season, and i know you’re only going to get better from here. i can’t wait to spend the summer with you🧡 i love you, always, trevor <3

tagged trevorzegras

view all 146 comments

trevorzegras thank you for everything you did for me tonight, my sweet girl🧡 i love you, forever!

jamie.drysdale was she nice first or angry first?

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale luke doesn’t call her scary sissy behind her back for nothing

yourusername i’m not gonna argue with that

trevorzegras @/yourusername i called luke out and you’re going to say nothing?

yourusername @/trevorzegras he scored his first goal tonight!

trevorzegras @/yourusername I SCORED A GOAL TONIGHT

yourusername @/trevorzegras AND THEN YOU SCORED A MISCONDUCT

jamie.drysdale i feel so safe in my home

user38 y/n is right, this game was a beautiful monstrosity

tterry19 love you, too! thanks for sticking by us!

yourusername i always will <3

user6 look at trevor holding his coffee i love that little shit lmao

jamie.drysdale (beware i’m about to be sappy) i just want to say thank you for staying with me during my injury and supporting not only z, but me, too, in the few games i played. we’ve gotten so much closer this year and i’m really glad we did, wifey! can’t wait for you to switch between mine and z’s jerseys at games next season! i love you! (p.s. thanks for letting my play guitar in the house!)

yourusername jamie drysdale i will come into your room and sob into your chest the second we get home istg

jackhughes @/yourusername are you not with him right now?

yourusername @/jackhughes i’m in the bathroom

trevorzegras @/yourusername get off your phone i want to go home

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras why? just why? she’ll never leave the bathroom now

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes

_quinnhughes @/yourusername sissy, i’ll throw away your blanket you have here if you don’t leave because if i get one more text from trevor i’ll fly down there and smother him myself

yourusername F I N E

user16 z and stormer in the box together post stromer going back in is so funny

frank_vatrano you’ve been great to have around as a cheerleader this season! love you lots, y/n/n!

yourusername awww tank! i love you tooooo

anaheimducks we love our wags!

yourusername and we love you!

user49 derek grant is my hero because he got a roughing penalty and sat back and relaxed 😂

yourusername just a king doing king shit (he semi tried to comfort my boyfriend)

_quinnhughes sissy, be honest, how many individual feelings are you feeling right now?

trevorzegras y/n is unavailable right now. she’s under my shirt.

jamie.drysdale we saw her laugh, cry, and thank the hockey gods in a span of two minutes before she got under it but we’ll tell her you asked

yourusername at least twelve emotions and four of them are partly your fault, quintin. thank you, i’m obsessed with you, and i love you <3

_quinnhughes @/yourusername i love you, too! now go to bed <3

colecaufield i cannot share my thoughts at the risk of breaking z’s heart and trust

trevorzegras you’re so good to me

yourusername text me your thoughts

colecaufield kk

trevorzegras update: cole is not that good to me

user77 if this game didn’t perfectly sum up this season idk what would

shattdeuces i love you, daughter! you’ve been a delight to have around these last couple of years! can’t wait to see what chaos you create next season!

yourusername oohhhhh i got big prank ideas, mom! and i love you, too!

user22 can’t wait for the hot z edits

masonmctavish23 thanks for making my rookie year special! you’re one of the most welcoming people i’ve ever met!

yourusername everyone is a sap in my comments tonight aw! i love you mac-t!

masonmctavish23 i love you, too

jackhughes you’re telling me you threatened no one to comment nice things? people just are?

yourusername this team worships me idk what to tell you

trevorzegras she is a fan favorite

jackhughes i am absolutely perplexed

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes stop using big boy words its scary

yourusername @_quinnhughes it’s***

lhughes_06 college dropout alert

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 says the one who dropped out a week ago

trevorzegras since there’s been so much love in the comments tonight, i just want to publicly announce that i have the best and most supportive girlfriend in the world who went out of her way to ensure she supported all of her friends in family in their big moments, and their worst. everyone deserves a y/n, but i, along with the few lucky others, get the best one🧡

jamie.drysdale psa: y/n cannot respond as she’s under my shirt now

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes come quick

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras booking a flight

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toasttt11 · 3 months

Text

confessions

November 17, 2023

Lex ignored the look she knew was coming from Rutger and continued tying her skates.

“You know you can’t ignore him forever right.” Frank leaned over from where he sat in his stall next to hers whispering, Lex looked up glaring at him making Frank put his hands up in defense.

Lex finished her skates and stood up slipping on the rest of her gear and putting on her number four jersey with her embroidered A on it, and headed with her team as they headed towards the rink.

“Can we please talk after this.” Rutger softly whispered to Lex as he caught up with her. He knew she’s been ignoring him for the last week since they almost kissed.

Lex looked over seeing Rutger looking like a kicked puppy and nodded agreeing to talk before they focused on the game.

Lex was passing the puck across the ice to Rutger who took the onetimer as Lex watched him get smashed into the boards, and it felt like time stopped as she watched the way his stick slowly drop as he crumpled to the floor.

Lex barely remembers moving before she was on top of the player who had hit Rutger and she could feel the blood on her knuckles as she hit him straight across the nose before she was pulled off.

Lex stood with her team as they watch Rutger get loaded onto the stretcher in obvious pain and hurried out of Yost.

“You good to play.” Jacob mumbled to Lex knowing how she cares for Rutger.

“Let’s kick their asses.” Lex looked at her captain, determined for Rutger, for Dylan and for Mark who were both injured as well in this game.

And Michigan did just that. Lex getting the winning goal, making them win 6-4.

Lex quickly rushed a shower and changed into a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt and saw almost all of her teammates getting dressed quickly to go see Rutger.

Lex silently handed the keys to Frank not sure if she wanted to drive this emotional and knew Frank would understand.

Lex looked out the window not even noticing they had got to the hospital until Frank gently nudged her arm, her head snapped up and saw they were there.

The whole hockey team met up with Rutger’s parents and sister as Rutger was with the doctor getting everything checked over and figuring out what the problems were.

Lex sat down next to Molly having always been close to her and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze and Molly leaned her head on Lex’s shoulder sniffing worried for her brother.

It felt like forever before the doctor finally came out, “Good news your son is okay,” the words brought sighs of relief across the room, “Bad news he does have a punctured lung and broke rib.”

Cindy and Jim took in a sharp breath worried for their son.

“He should be awake in the morning and we given him meds to sleep through then night to start his body healing faster.” The doctor finished and excused themselves.

Rutger’s parents and Molly went into the room first spending a few minutes alone with a sleeping Rutger, before they gestured for the team all to squeeze into the room.

They all spent a few hours all huddled in the room all worried for Rutger, before Cindy told most of the team to get back to school and get some sleep. Cindy got all of the stubborn boys to head back but Lex was even more stubborn and she stayed in the chair in the room.

Frank rested his hand on her shoulder, “Want me to take you car back?” He leaned down to one of his best friends.

Lex nodded and handed her keys to him.

Cindy had Jim take Molly home wanting them to get a goodnight sleep at home.

“You care a lot for my son?” Cindy looked over at the girl she knows her son has been in love with for years and she seen her grow up.

Lex looked up at someone who’s always felt like another mother to her and knew she couldn’t lie, “I always have.” She admitted the truth.

“I know.” Cindy smiled softly having seen how much Lex has taken care of Rutger over the past few years, “He loves you, you know.”

“I know.” Lex soflty nodded knowing how much Rutger cares for her and some days she feels as if she doesn’t deserve all his love.

“Give him a chance.” Cindy softly squeezed her hand and sent Lex a motherly smile.

“I plan too.” Lex soflty smiled as she looked at sleeping Rutger and felt some tension come out of her shoulders seeing him peacefully sleeping even though he is badly injured.

November 18, 2023

“Mom?” Rutger groggily spoke feeling her hand brush his hair as he slowly woke up in the hospital bed.

“Hi honey.” Cindy McGroarty smiled softly down at her son who gave her the scare of a lifetime, “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Rutger softly muttered back, “Where’s Mols and Dad?”

“I sent them to get something to eat.” Cindy replied, “Your teammates were all here last night but they had to go back to get some sleep, expect one wouldn’t leave the whole night and stayed with me.”

Lex was curled in one the hospital chair with a blanket draped over her, Rutger smiled softly seeing her. Cindy smiled at her son’s smitten look and knew the two would get together eventually.

A few hours had went by and the doctor had come in to talk to Rutger.

“How long am i going to be out?” Rutger desperately questioned knowing the World Junior Championship is in a few weeks.

“Six to eight weeks, depending on how fast you heal.” The doctor informed him.

Rutger head dropped and he could feel the tears fill his eyes realizing he most likely won’t be able to play, Lex frowned grabbing his free hand squeezing it tightly.

Rutger took a shuttering breath leaning his head back onto the pillows, he squeezed his hand.

His parents and sister had walked out of the room to talk more with doctor out of the room.

“Do you think i’ll be able to play?” Rutger choked out looking at Lex, his face covered in tears and the saddest frown on his face.

Lex looked at Rutger feeling her heart break seeing how devastated he is, “I think you will.” Lex had a feeling Rutger would heal in time to he able to play.

November 20, 2023

Lex went to her classes when she woke knowing Rutger was coming home today and she made sure to grab all his work as they have almost every class together.

She drove over to his parents house and knocked on the door, Cindy smiled at her as she opened the door, “Lex come in!”

Lex smiled waking in, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders, “How’s he doing?”

“Good today, think he is happy to be home.” Cindy smiled walking her down to Rutgers room, “He is pretty out of it today and been sleeping most of the day.” She opened the door to Rutger’s room and he was fast asleep in the middle of his bed.

“That’s okay, i just wanted to check on him and i brought his work so whenever he’s ready to start working on that.” Lex smiled and opened her backpack pulling out the work for Rutger and set it on his desk.

Cindy stayed at the door smiling at Lex, Lex walked over leaning down pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before leaning up and walking back to the door.

“You can stay you know.” Cindy smiled soflty at her.

“Thank you but i should probably get back to the house and get some work done before practice later.”

“Alright, Let me walk you out.” Cindy walked with her to the front door, Cindy pulled her into a gentle hug, “Thank you for coming.”

“Course.” Lex smiled back before pulling away and waking to her car.

November 21, 2023

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Cindy asked Lex as she walked through the door.

“Really it’s not a problem i was gonna spend the day with him anyways.” Lex reassured her with a smile.

“Thank you really.” Cindy had gotten an emergency at work she had to get to and Molly was in class taking an important test and Jim had to go into work as well. Cindy knew Rutger was supposed to be not alone for a little while and she trusted Lex, “He was sleeping when i checked on him last, and thank you again.” Cindy rushed out the door.

“It’s not a problem.” Lex smiled before heading down the hallway to Rutgers room in his parents house, the door was open and she could see Rutger kinda sleeping but not fully asleep.

Lex stepped in and set her backpack on his desk and unzipped it pulling out the gift she got Rutger. Lex walked over and gently sat on the edge of the bed as Rutger’s eyes were fluttering open.

“Ollie?” Rutger mumbled with a goofy smile.

“Hey pretty boy.” Lex smiled soft brushing his hair off his forehead, “How you feeling?”

“Good.” Rutger slowly nodded before nothing something in her hands, “What’s that?”

“Uh I uh thought you might like it.” Lex rushed out setting the snow white teddy bear next to Rutger.

“It’s cute.” Rutger picked it up feeling how soft it was before looking at Lex seeing how she was avoiding his eyes and felt his heart clench in fondness for this girl, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Lex cleared her throat, “Your stuck with just me for the day, your mom had to go into work.”

“And you came over?” Rutger titled his head looking at Lex for an answer.

“I uh planned to come over anyways and i uh got your work so you wouldn’t be behind.” Lex simply explained fiddling with her finger not enjoying how nervous she felt.

“You do care for me.” Rutger teased with a smug smiled.

Lex took a deep breath and looked up towards him, “Of course i do.”

Rutger’s eyes widen and he tried to lean up towards her, “Woah relax!” Lex quickly put her hands out stopping him from moving and made him stay put.

Rutger ignored her words and looked at her, “You care for me?”

“Of course i do Rut.” Lex softly admitted leaning closer to Rutger.

Rutger slowly breathed out in disbelief hearing the words he’s been waiting for and gently brought his hand up to cup her cheek, he smiled as Lex leaned into his touch.

He gently pulled her chin down to him, “Can i? Please?” Rutger breathed out desperately looking up at her for permission, to do the thing he’s been dreaming up for years.

Lex nodded and leaned forward connecting her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Lex gently pulled away leaning her forehead on Rutger’s forehead.

“Took you long enough.” Rutger softly chuckled teasing her as he pressed another kiss to her lips.

“Whatever.” Lex fondly rolled her eyes.

“Lay with me.” Rutger looked at her with his puppy eyes making her nod and slowly lay next to him and rest her head gently on his shoulder.

“Will you let me take you out of date?” Rutger softly questioned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I could be persuaded.” Lex quipped back with a small smile.

“Oh i see how it is.” Rutger laughed feeling Lex let out a chuckle, “How about being my girlfriend?” Rutger nervously asked.

Lex’s eyes widen and she quickly sat up looking at Rutger, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Rutger softly nodded nervously looking at her.

“Are you sure?” Lex softly questioned.

“Alexandra Zegras i would very much like to he your boyfriend if you will have me?” Rutger gently grabbed her hand and looked at her as he spoke.

“Ok, Yeah, Yes!” Lex breathed out smiling leaning over to let Rutger kiss her again.

Rutger fondly cupped her face and smiled kissing her again.

They pulled apart resting their foreheads together and smiling at each other.

“Took you long enough.” Rutger softly teased his now girlfriend.

“I know.” Lex nodded softly pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m sorry.” She nudged her nose to his.

“It’s okay, i’ll always wait for you.” Rutger softly cooed cupping her face in her hands, he knew she hadn’t been ready in the past and was more than willing to wait for her to figure out her feelings.

“Thank you.” Lex pulled back and laid back down next to Rutger laying on his shoulder and was playing with his fingers.

Rutger could feel himself slowly falling asleep and before he knew it was fast asleep. Lex wasn’t far behind and fell asleep.

Cindy came home a few hours laters and walked into the quiet house down the hall and peaked into his room seeing Rutger and Lex cuddled together both peacefully sleeping looking content in each others arms, Cindy smiled fondly and quietly walked over to the bed and pulled up the blankets over the two and quietly walked out and closed the door behind her.

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shelbgrey · 10 months

Note

hi! would you please do a dating seeley booth headcanon sfw/nsfw? i really love your work ❣️❣️❣️

Dating Seeley Booth Headcanons:

Paring: Seeley Booth x reader

Summary: just some headcanons about dating the toughest, cutest FBI agent I know.

A/n: some NSFW content is included so beware

❤️Dating Seeley Booth Mood board ❤️MasterList

So you work at the Jeffersonian, I just feel Seeley is just attracted to badass smart girls, and that's what you are.

He can't help but love your nerdyness and you never sees to amaze him.

So you guys would be through Cam, she was your best friend and she thought you two would hit it off. That was true but what she didn't realize the age gap.

It's not bad and there's no reason to go into too much detail, but I feel like Seeley would indeed go for you the second he got the chance but I think he'd be insecure about his age.

We know he doesn't really talk about his feelings, but the thoughts about being too old would cross his mind. He's probably only like five years old so it's not a big deal, but when he sees you laughing with Lance he can't help but feel you deserve someone your age.

You got that thought out of his head quickly and reassured you wanted him and only him.

Of course it's now a joke to you two, now you can joke about it and your Friends do to.

“Hodgins, you call it daddy issues, I call it taking care of the elderly” you joked. Seeley spit his beer out not prepared for your response.

Now, let's stop being so down in the dumps and talk the good stuff.

Now this would be a friends to lovers, at first he was your best friend and your shoulder to cry on, but it didn't take long for you to fall head over heals for him.

You tried to ignore it and didn't want to really ruin your friendship, but you quickly found out he felt exactly the same.

He has no problem opening up to you, in fact if he wasn't to talk about the war or maybe a rough case he'd go to you. Your his 'Shrink' and it annoys Lance like crazy.

You wear his dog tags for luck, one time when he was off in another state for a case you wore them because you missed him. The it kinda turned into a good luck charm.

It made his heart swell with love when he found out, you didn't really think he'd be mad but you didn't know what his response would be.

“they look better on you anyways”

Being with and FBI/army man means you have a designated bodyguard, you never felt so safe than you do when your with him.

One of your first dates was a hockey game, that peaked your interest and you asked him to teach you how to play.

He's always there to catch you when your about to fall on the ice, and if he can't get you in time he'll fall too so you don't get embarrassed.

After awhile you guy just ended up sword fighting with the hockey sticks, he also kept the Puck you guys played with and he keeps it in his office.

Speaking of office, you can go in his when ever you want cuz he made a key for you.

If your cold you'll steal his goofy socks or his jackets, he had theses black socks with cute little aliens on them that he now only sees if your wearing them.

He gives the best bear hugs, you just feel so safe and warm in his muscular arms.

You love just being in his arms, there's no feeling better than that.

His arms or hands will he around your waist any chance he gets, he loves your curves and your body... He just wants to hold you all the time.

There's a lot of neck and forehead kisses being handed out by this man. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and just trail soft kisses down your neck.

This man need physical contact a lot too. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, he's really just a big ol' teddy bear.

You joke about that, he can be so mean looking and tough but he's really just a big teddy bear.

“I'm not a teddy bear” he said trying to not to smile. You shook your head and held him tighter. “Yes you are, my big teddy bear”

He loves it when you curl up on his lap when he's working, he can't get enough of you running your fingers run through his hair.

He's a rough kisser, he's way taller than you so usually he hold your chin between his fingers and lift for head up to kiss you.

He also loves forehead kisses, it's just such a soft and gentle gesture he loving doing. But I think he likes it when you do it more.

He likes laying his head in your lap while your on the couch, he finds it soothing when you run your fingers though his hair too.

He loves cuddles, if your in bed or on the couch he needs to be holding you. He loves it when he's laying in bed and your lying on top of his chest.

He also thinks it's cute when you just kidda space out and play with his tie while your in his lab waring for him to get his work done.

Seeley refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first, he just needs to know your okay before he can have a good night sleep.

Most of the time he'll wake in the middle of the night and need to hear you breathe, or just make sure you’re safe beside him and unharmed.

your entire relationship is based on natural and domestic intimacy, you guys don't care where you are if you want to touch or kiss you will.

So like, I said he's super over protective, so that includes his driving habits changed drastically, he once drived like a maniac, but the first time he had you in the car he drove safer than he did when he took his divers test.

But when you guys got comfortable with each other his old habits came back.

He either drives like a maniac or a grandpa. There’s no in between.

“Jesus Christ, Seeley, we Are Not on a race track, why Are You Going so Fast?!!?!?”

You guys don't really fight, the only thing you fight about is when one of you is being reckless in your line of work. You hate how Seeley thinks he's Bulletproof and don't really care about the danger he's running into.

“You don't always need to be a fucking hero, Seeley.”

“I know what I'm doing, can you just trust me on that?"

“You'd lose your goddamn mind if I pulled even half the shit you do.”

“You’re damn right I would.”

You love doing undercover stuff with him, no matter what it is. One of your guys favorite ones was when you had to investigate a killing that was linked to an Elvis impersonator conviction. Seeley knows you love Elvis but the impersonators are questionable to you.

“this is like the worst and best thing that's ever happened to you” Seeley chuckled.

You guys just like staying in and watching movies or hocky. You got him into the marvel movies and now he loves them just as much as you do, he loves Moon Knight and you convinced him to dress up as Capitan American one Halloween.

Your Favorite show to watch is Supernatural.

You also like watching Family Feud and making fun off the dumb awnsers or just play along. “that's the naked grandma guy!”

Your like a mom to Lance and always getting on to Seeley if he's teasing your 'kid' top much.

“leave him alone” you said slapping his chest.

NSFW headcanons:

He finds it hot when you cuss, at first he was suprised to hear such nasty words fall out of your adorable mouth, but now he can't help but feel his pants tighten when he watches you pace around the room, speaking all kinds of disrespectful verbs and adjectives.

He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.

there's alot of office sex with him, they're mostly quickies which aren't his favorite but he's never apposed to it.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

Bondeg kink, handcuffs, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

He loves missionary, keeping eye contact while he fucks you. He loves how you dig your nails into his back and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

#Seeley Booth #Seeley Booth Headcanons #Seeley Booth smut #Seeley Booth x reader #Seeley Booth imagines #BONES #bones TV show #Temperance Brennan #The jeffersonian #FBI #Bones headcanons #Bones imagines #David boreanaz #David boreanaz x reader

177 notes · View notes

ktsumu · 5 months

Text

cross check [1]

pairing: hockey player!iwaizumi hajime x f!reader word count: 771

chapter synopsis: icarus on ice.

masterlist | one | two (coming soon!)

Iwaizumi feels heavy on solid ground; like he’s held down in place.

He feels like the atmosphere and gravity and whatever else only exist to act on him, and everything else gets affected by that in turn.

On ice, he is weightless.

It takes him seconds to get up the ice, it takes him seconds to score. It takes him seconds to get over the boards, and it takes him seconds to get some water into him and get put right back out in the play.

But that’s what he loves about the game — he’s weightless, and he’s timeless. And nobody does timeless better than him.

His skates turn ice into snow as he races with the pair beside him, blades scraping the top off the surface, carving streaks out into the rink. He weaves through defense like it’s what he does in his sleep, bumping shoulders and sides but managing to keep the puck in the arch of his stick; loosely, but it’s there.

( He’s never been a clean player, anyway. )

It’s the adrenaline that keeps him going from there.

It comes from the screaming crowd, the skates scratching to life behind him, the crash of sticks hitting the boards, the way the goalie begins to drop in anticipation that he’s going to shoot on him; there is no stopping, not here and not now.

To his right, all he hears is screaming. Cheering, chirping; it depends on what colour the person in the stands is wearing. His team makes sure he knows to keep going, at least, as if he wasn’t gonna do that himself anyway, and his coach looked expectant when he passed him on the way to the net.

To his left, he can see Oikawa, who managed to catch up with him and is now racing towards the net on the far side — in between them is a player that wants to stop the pass he fully intends to make. Behind him, skates close in.

The most overstimulated you’ll ever be is in a jersey in motion; he doesn’t wanna be anywhere else.

You blink and you miss it; the puck is passed to Tooru and directly past the defender, just by his skates, the thundering of the arena only growing louder with every inch they get closer to the net. Knowing the boards are coming up on him, Iwaizumi stops abruptly, bringing him to a messy halt in the corner. It’s probably killing his ankles, but at least it stops him. Not much can.

Iwaizumi comes to standstill. The player behind him doesn’t.

He doesn’t have the time to see if Oikawa got the goal, because when he turns to look again, all he can see is a body flying towards him and a barred stick coming with it. And by the time he processes that he wants to get out of the way, he’s already in the air.

The last thing he sees before he hits something — he doesn't even know what — are the blinding lights that hang from the tall ceiling of the arena and the jumbotron housing the score, telling everyone that they’re winning.

But, then again, hockey is timeless. Just as fast as sees the score, he’s slamming against the ice and wall at full force, his helmet flying off and a pop in his knee so violent it makes him lightheaded.

The arena suddenly gets louder, and his vision doubles as he struggles to find the air he had a few seconds ago. Gloves are dropping, people are throwing punches like it's a different sport entirely, and all he can think about is how bad his brain is shaking instead of his skull and how bright the world is. He can’t do anything but wheeze out groans and struggle to get a glove off, clutching his jersey in the middle of his chest as his ears ring. He tries to move, but just yells instead. It's a lot easier.

He tries to bend his leg, but that doesn’t help the noise any.

One of the medics they keep on standby rushes onto the ice and right over to him, dropping to his level with a bright orange kit as they rest a hand on his chest.

“Stay still,” they say. It sounds like they’re both underwater — he’s guesses that he’s the one drowning. “Don’t move your head, just stay awake 'til the big guys get here. Hey, he's going — Hajime!”

He lets out a strangled hum to avoid nodding, eyes fluttering as the woman shines a bright light at them, and his vision fleshes white before he lets himself rest.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu series

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exhuastedpigeon · 6 months

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Inspiration Saturday/Seven Sentence Sunday

I'm cheating and combining these together.

Inspiration

My buddie NHL fic is inspired by all the beautiful, usually accidental, homoerotisism in the hockey, the NHL, and between hockey players in general.

Yes, the top left one is two players kissing on the ice as they celebrate a goal. Yes the bottom right is two players showing up to practice together on a tandem bike.

Seven Sentences

They’re tied 1-1 in the last minute of the third period against the Ducks when Buck lays a hit on Smith along the boards in the natural zone, knocking him off the puck long enough for Eddie and his fucking beautiful hands to gain possession. Buck grins at Smith as he pushes off of him and follows behind his defense partner, entering the zone two seconds after him. Buck checks to make sure their forwards are in position before he gets into his spot at the point. Buck basically never assumes they’re going to score, but he can feel it a second before it happens. Eddie sends the puck back to Mateo and screens the goalie as Mateo passes the puck to Buck at the point to reset the play. It’s like it happens in slow motion - Buck takes a shot from the point, not because he thinks he’s going to score, but because he wants to get the puck to the net so they can try to score on the rebound. Except the rebound doesn’t come. Instead, Eddie tips Buck’s shot, redirecting it over Gibson’s shoulder on his stick side, sending the puck into the back of the net. The ref signals that it’s a goal and before the horn can sound, Eddie is on him, practically tackling him to the ice in celebration. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie on instinct, holding him close as TK, Paul, and Mateo crash into them. "You're a fucking beauty, Buckley," Eddie says, his mouth pressed against Buck neck in a hug.

Tagged by: @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @911-on-abc

No pressure tagging: @forthewolves @eddiebabygirldiaz @devirnis @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @butchdiaz @wildlife4life @rosieposiepuddingnpie and anyone else who wants to share!

#buddie #buddie wip #inspiration saturday #seven sentence sunday #911

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fruitcoops · 1 year

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Lupin's Run

Happy birthday, Remus! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

In the morning, they called it ‘Lupin’s Run’. Sportscasters across the country showed it for hours, a default part of every segment. Journalists didn’t sleep—their minds flew across keyboards and notebooks with the frenetic energy of a story that wrote itself. Newspapers were heavy with his name. Callbacks to Wisconsin, to his first season, to the quiet years in between. Julian Lupin stayed awake until the early hours listening to his parents’ phones ring off the hook and played magic on loop behind his eyes.

In the morning, Remus Lupin cracked an eye open, turned into his slumbering husband, and went right back to sleep. Post-game dawn called for a few extra hours in bed. He was sore. It was a long night. Maybe in a while, he would lovingly bully Sirius into bringing their coffee up. He stretched, pushing his face deeper into Sirius’ chest and throwing an arm over his torso to trail drowsy fingers over his skin.

“Good morning.”

Remus mumbled his acknowledgement and felt Sirius laugh quietly.

“Sleep well?”

“Gonna sleep better with you.” He nuzzled the soft, warm spot below Sirius’ sternum and peeked up at him. “Don’t you want to cuddle me on my birthday?”

“Oof, dirty play.” A hand threaded through his hair, scratching lightly before coming to rest at the nape of his neck. “You’re all over the news, loup.”

“Wow, that’s never happened before.”

Sirius laugh was louder this time and Remus grinned up at him. The hand in his hair toyed with the ends of his overgrown bedhead while a soft silver gaze watched him with a sweet sort of fondness. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Remus murmured into his ribs.

Th corners of Sirius’ eyes crinkled; he wrapped both arms around him and shuffled down the bed an inch, until they were eye-to-eye and Sirius’ lips brushed his nose in a kiss. “I love watching you skate.”

It was hard to kiss him through their smiles, but they managed.

Remus had been a last-ditch effort—a not-so-secret weapon, if you will. Hitting the ground running was tricky on skates and yet he had no other choice. The clock was ticking down. Smitty had already launched himself over the boards with a hope and a prayer that the guys on the bench would catch him so Remus could get out there.

Loops! Sirius had shouted, so loud he almost certainly blew his mic. Go!

The puck came flying out of a mass of bodies. Remus didn’t stick around to watch the hit Sirius intercepted. He caught the puck. Dug his skates in. Went.

It was over in the blink of an eye. Over coffee in bed, Sirius had a fantastic time showing him how quickly his postgame interview had become a meme.

Your goal at the end of the third had millions of people glued to their screens. How did you do that?

Against the bright reds and golds of their locker room, he had looked pale, as if someone shot him full of adrenaline and hard drugs. I have no idea, he had said shakily. They told me to just go. I think I blacked out.

He did remember the goal, in a vague sense. Or rather, the steps leading up to it. It felt like eons in his memory, yet every clip flooding Twitter hardly broke 15 seconds. The jarring zing of his skates finding the ice was the gunshot at a horse race, the familiar rush-shush scrape echoing his shallow breaths. Lightning on skates, they called him. The organization’s proof that he had earned his place through sweat and wildfire passion, not favoritism.

Hufflepuff’s defense was good enough to reliably put them in the playoffs every year. Big guys who knew how to use their size as an advantage and could easily crush Remus given the chance. His job was to take that chance out from under their noses. Big guys had power on their side—they caught up to him at the midline faster than just about anyone else in the league in long, strong strides. But they lacked the tight agility that always made Ravenclaw a tricky opponent, and in those tiny holes in their formation laid Remus’ victory. Tug one loose end, and the yarn unravels to slip through. Hufflepuff was full of dropped stitches.

He darted past the first defenseman so easily it was laughable, then turned and skated backwards as the second dove for him, tapping the puck between his blades. A third tried to take it from his stick and found empty ice as Remus took a hard left toward the goal. They swung back around to meet him as the stragglers caught up—in a brief moment of consciousness, he remembered his silent plea that Logan wouldn’t get a penalty. He was so close. So, so close.

The defense blurred together in blobs of yellow and black in his periphery as he wove loops around them and searched for someone, anyone, to pass to. It seemed the Badgers had learned their lesson; not a single Lion could break through their back wall.

Mine, Remus had thought with dazzling clarity. My puck. My goal. Mine.

Sirius’ flushed, sweaty face. A flash of crimson as he pointed down the ice. Go!

Remus’ exhausted lungs ached and filled his mouth with iron as he sucked in a sharp breath, sprinting straight for the goal. The Badger was looming, but too focused on Talker’s clever crossovers to notice Remus crouching until it was too late. His stick came up just high enough on a turn for Remus to slip beneath in a tight ball, breathless and fever-hot, before straightening and giving a quick twist around the goalie to tap the puck in.

He broke through the surface with a gasp of icy air. The blur in the corners of his vision faded. Noise rushed in, and he barely managed to ground himself before Talker’s full weight hit him like a train. “Did it go in?” he asked wildly, the words breaking in his throat.

“Fuck yes it--!”

That was everything he needed to hear, and where the videos ended. Privately, he was a bit disappointed that they didn’t show the aftermath. The wild excitement of Lions, and the utter confusion—disbelief, even—on the faces of Hufflepuff’s line.

A bit of birthday magic, maybe?

Ha, yeah, I guess so. Sorry, I’m still a little…

Take your time, Loops. I hear there’s a cake for you in the other room.

To be honest, I don’t think I can stand up right now without falling over.

That had made them laugh, like they thought he was joking.

Remus took a sip of coffee and rubbed the edge of the newspaper between his fingertips. “Lupin’s Run,” he read aloud. “Got a nice ring to it.”

Sirius hummed around a bagel. “I’m framing that.”

“Oh, are you?” he laughed.

Dark stubble was rough on his own as Sirius scattered a half-dozen tiny kisses over his cheek. “Right over the mantle, by our Cup rings. Everyone needs to see it.”

“Everyone is seeing it.”

“Then they’ll see it again.”

Sirius’ pride was fierce and his kiss was gentle; a steady hand slipped the mug from Remus’ fingers and set it aside, pulling him close beneath their sheets. It felt so right. The ache in his muscles, the swoop of his stomach, the cool headboard against his temple when he melted under Sirius’ attention. He smelled good, like sleep and sunrise and boy. Like a future Remus could live in forever. He shifted close enough that their sides aligned and let Sirius take him into daylight.

30 years. More than ten thousand mornings. He couldn’t wait for the next one.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fluff #birthday #game #lions

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rowdyhughesy · 1 year

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The story of us - Cole Caufield

“ I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out it wasn’t something about you at all. It was just you “

- anon

word count: 1.7K

I. The day you met

It's been months since you first got to UW, yet this is the first hockey game you've ever attended. You liked hockey but had decided at the beginning of the semester that you were going to focus on school -parties if you felt like it- it had taken some convincing from your roommates but ultimately you had agreed.

Dressed in a Wisconsin sweater and hat to keep warm you trail along behind your friends. Their loud chatter disguising the sound of skates and sticks on ice, the cold air of the rink biting at your cheeks.

"Y/N come on our seats are over here." One of your friends grabs your hand tugging you forward as if you're in a rush when in reality warmups aren't even over yet.

Seated closest to ice in the student section you just take in the atmosphere. Pucks slamming against the boards, players dressed in cardinal red and white flying across the ice. Engrossed in a conversation with your best friend you don't even realise the boy that comes skating across the ice until his firm body hits the boards. The loud noise startling you. Looking over your shoulder you're met with big blue eyes staring back at you behind the cage of his helmet.

His eyes squinting from the smile forming on his lips as he gives you a wave. Cheeks flushed from the attention you stare at the boy with wide eyes before pointing a finger towards yourself as if asking him 'me?' The unknown boy laughs softly before nodding in confirmation. Sneaking a glance at your friends to see them focused on something else you raise from your seat.

Walking over to him you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, a nervous habit you've had since you were a kid.

"Hey, I'm Cole."

II. The first kiss

Your plan to focus on school had went out the window after you met Cole Caufield for the first time. Suddenly the lonely evenings in your bedroom became study dates or movie nights every Sunday he didn't have hockey.

He was your best friend but his smile still made you blush like it did the first time he directed it towards you. It was easy to let go off all your worries in his presence. Cole was easy going, never letting anything bother him for more than two minutes. It was something you admired about him, one of many things in fact.

Laying in the space between Cole's legs, back pressed to his chest you watch the tv series he'd picked out for tonight. Blanket draped across your lap and soft glow from the TV illuminating your faces. It's currently 1:30am but neither of you feel the need to wrap this Sundays movie night up just yet. Way too comfortable in each others embrace.

Cole shuffles in his seat, arms wrapping tighter around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat. Thu-thump Thu-thump. You’re pulled out of your daze like state when you feel Cole’s nose nudge against your temple. Turning your head slightly you get eye contact, noses bumping together from your close proximity. His blue eyes look like they’re sparkling more than usual in the artificial light from the screen. Cole parts his lips, a silent question if he can kiss you hanging in the air around you. Deciding to throw caution to the wind you lean forward.

It’s slow open mouthed kisses and breaths mingling together. Smiles so big your teeth almost clash when you turn your body around so you’re chest to chest. Tangling your fingers in his hair and Cole grasping your cheek in his big palm. The soft fabric of his sweatshirt and the smell of his cologne. The taste of your chapstick on his lips lingering as you pull apart for air.

“I was wondering when you were gonna do that.”

III. The first I love you

It’s a tough loss in tonight’s hockey game. You can see it on Cole’s face as the final buzzer rings, the look of defeat and disappointment clear. Anyone else wouldn’t have picked up on it but you can read your boyfriend even when he tries to mask his emotions.

Grabbing your belongings you push your way through the crowd trying to get out of the stands. Mind spiralling with scenarios of how Cole’s going to act when you see him. All you can do is hope he won’t try to shut you out.

Rushing out a hello to the security guard you stand in the tunnel, picking at your sleeves while you wait for Cole to come out. The minutes feel like hours before the locker room door opens. Waving to his teammates as they file out one after the other. Counting in your head you come to the conclusion Cole is the only one left. Looking to see if the coast is clear you walk inside.

Your boyfriend is sitting in his stall, hunched over with his head resting in his hands. Hair still damp from the shower. Taking note of the jersey and helmet thrown across the room you know he’s in a bad mood. Cautious you step forward before you come to a halt in front of his sitting form. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence until you slowly peel his hands away from his head. Wrapping his arms around your legs he rests his hands on the back of your thighs, forehead resting against your stomach.

“Tell me what’s going on inside that brain of yours.” Cole exhales a shaky breath, grabbing your legs tighter in his palms.

“I could’ve done better, I let everyone down Y/N. I had so many goal chances that I screwed up.” His voice cracks and your heart along with it. Stepping out of his hold you squat so you come face to face with the hockey player.

“Don’t ever say that Cole Caufield. This is not on you, it’s a team sport. You did everything you could tonight and sure it didn’t play out the way you wanted but don’t ever doubt what you can do. Me along with so many others know how good of a hockey player you are. Fuck you’re going to the NHL soon and if that doesn’t tell you how good you really are I don’t know what does. It’s only one game, you can’t win them all but you can chose to learn from it.”

Cole leans his forehead against yours, a couple of happy tears slips out as he blinks. “I love you so much baby, thank you for always knowing what to say.” Now it’s your turn to start crying. Crying because it’s the first time either of you have said those words aloud and you can’t picture a more perfect moment even if it’s the result of something sad.

“I love you too Cols.”

IV. NHL debut

It feels like a fever dream standing inside the Bell centre. A Montreal Canadians jersey on your upper body and a smile so big your cheeks hurt. After a rocky start the day has finally came for Cole to take his first steps on the ice as an NHL player. Standing beside his family in the stands you grip his mothers hand in a death grip as they announce that Cole is about to make his rookie lap. Your heart feels like it might leap out of your chest as he comes flying out on the ice.

He sports probably the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face and you don’t even realise that you have started crying. Paul Caufield wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and squeeze you in a side hug as all of you watch Cole skate around with proud smiles.

As he skates by where you’re standing you raise your arms up and start hollering. Shouts of his name and whistling. Cole comes to a stop in front of you blowing a kiss as you mouth out an I love you which he responds with an I love you more.

You know he’s going to become something great in the hockey world and you’re so unbelievably proud that the whole universe is about to see it as well.

Smiling at his parents when he skates back to the tunnel you wipe the stray tear from your cheek.

“I’m so proud of him.”

V. The first apartment

You can feel the sweat dripping down your neck as you drop the last box on the floor. Ripping the thick sweater off your body you plop down on the nearest piece of furniture which happens to be the couch. Cole following shortly after. Both of you letting out a sigh of relief that the last moving boxes and furniture are inside.

If anyone had told you at eighteen that you would be moving into an apartment in Montreal with your boyfriend it would’ve felt so far away but it’s not. Not anymore. It’s actually happening.

Looking around you, you take in the high ceiling windows, dark wooden floors and light coloured walls and it’s unbelievable that this is your home. You and Cole’s home. As if sensing that you’re having a moment Cole intertwines your fingers giving your hand a small squeeze.

Looking over at him you see a goofy smile on his lips that match your own.

“This is real right? I’m not just hallucinating?” Cole barks out a laugh at your question before lifting you up and onto his lap. Resting his chin on your shoulder after pecking the skin behind your ear.

“As real as it can be babe, this is all ours.”

Later that night as you lay close together on your makeshift bed -a mattress on the floor- you run your fingertips on his chest. Eyes heavy with exhaustion from today you feel sleep sneaking up on you. Trying to blink sleep away for only a minute longer so you can relish in the moment that is the first night in your new home.

Cole is softly snoring beside you, having fallen asleep thirty minutes ago while you whispered about tomorrows plans of assembling furniture. There’s been so many huge milestones in your relationship with Cole. But this, moving in together and starting the rest of your lives beats them all by a landslide.

“Welcome home Cols.”

#cole caufield imagine #cole caufield x reader #montreal canadiens #nhl imagine

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