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ilyasorokinn · 1 year

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second times the charm , juraj slafkovsky

note, thank you to @antoineroussel for yet another amazing fic exchange! you rock! this fic is for bestie maleeha (@lam-ila). i decided to do grumpy-sunshine (inspired by keeley and roy from ted lasso) and second chance romance. grumpy-sunshine is also one of my fav tropes so i really hope you enjoy this! :) another note, breaking my own rule of not writing for players under 20, but i couldn't pass up the opportunity to write for my favorite slovak. last note, this fic is part of "the lover series", my series about 25 different kinds of relationships. this relationship falls under "second time around". check out this masterlist for more. pair, juraj slafkovsky x reader summary, juraj and y/n were... something some years ago. but that was done and over with. so when y/n comes back as a medical team member, juraj knows there's only so much time to avoid all his problems. warnings, juraj gets injured and i'm not trying to romanticize it. this is my best attempt at grumpy-sunshine, and idk how much of this it really is, but i tried. i tried to leave out as much angst as i could, but with a second-chance romance, there is bound to be some angst, but i promise it'll all lead to a happy ending, i promise! word count, 6869 words (literally the longest thing i’ve ever written on here)

(gif not mine)

You and Juraj had something. You weren't officially dating but you were more than friends. It didn't last too long but lasted long enough to leave an imprint on you. After a while, you started to think about him and it didn't hurt and you moved on with your life.

Juraj had done the same, but his moving on wasn't as progressive as yours. He was almost a shell of who he was before. He was once smiley but that all changed after your breakup.

You knew Juraj played hockey and knew he wanted to play in pro in the big leagues, you just didn't expect the big leagues to be in the same city as you.

You had been hired by the Canadiens a little before the season ended, so you had heard the rumors about Wright being drafted first, but when you watched the draft and watched Juraj, instead, walk across that stage first, you were just as shocked as everyone else was that arena.

On the first day of work, you had given yourself pep talk after pep talk in the mirror, while you were getting ready, in case you would run into Juraj.

For the majority of the day, you were in the clear. You had yet to run into him, but towards the afternoon was when more players started coming in for help.

Juraj was one of those players.

When he saw you, he froze. He stopped walking and just stared at you, like a creep. You turned around and stopped the conversation you were having when you locked eyes with him.

"Y/N?" Your coworker, Lorelei called your name, "You okay?" She followed your line of sight and saw you and Juraj having a staring contest.

"Uh, yeah." You blinked, turning back to Lorelei, "Can you excuse me?" She nodded, watching you walk away, over to Juraj, "...Hi." You let out a breath.

"Hi." He nodded, his voice curt and short, but then again, he was only saying one word.

"Can we talk?"

"Don't think there's anything to talk about." He shrugged.

"Come on, don't be like that."

"Be like what?"

"Can we just talk, Juraj?"

"We really don't have anything to talk about, Y/N." He told you, his tone so sharp it felt like it was stabbing you in the chest.

You picked up how much he really really did not want to talk to you, so you took it as your cue to not push him, "Right." You nodded, "Yeah, right." You walked past him, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt.

Right as you walk out, Arber walked up to him, "Who's she?"

"Ex," Juraj responded gruffly.

"Huh," Arber nodded, "Guessing you didn't end on the best terms?"

"You would be right."

"I gotta say, she looked pretty upset when she was leaving." Juraj simply ignored him.

"... and I gotta tell you, I was this close to just punching him in the face." Your date, Milo, laughed as he explained yet another story.

This date, so far, was not going very well.

Milo wasn't a bad guy, it was all you. You subconsciously kept comparing Milo to Juraj, and in that sense, they were both very different guys.

You listened to Milo talk for almost the entire night, and for that entire time, you spent it comparing two guys to each other.

"You okay? You've hardly touched your pasta." Milo pointed out.

"Yeah, I'm great." You plastered on a smile, pushing down the internal battle you were having, "Just really tired. Work." You shrugged.

"Work, right." He nodded, looking like he was ready to ask more questions, "You work where again?"

"I work for a hockey team." You answered, not wanting to start by saying you worked for one of the biggest hockey teams in Canada.

"The Canadiens?" He asked.

"Yeah, medical staff." You nodded.

"Wow." His eyes went wide as h sat back. in his seat. You could practically feel the questions he was gonna ask next, "Do you get free tickets?"

You deflated. It was always 'Do you get free tickets?' and 'Do you know so and so?'.

"I don't get free tickets." You shook your head, leaving out the discounted part.

"Have you met Caufield and Suzuki? Ooh, and the new draft? The Slovak?" He asked excitedly.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, "Yeah, I know them all."

"Wow, that is so cool!" He exclaimed, "I have like a million different questions to ask those guys."

The rest of your date was spent with you answering all of Milo's questions about your work, and usually, you would happy to answer questions about work but in this case, Milo didn't care about what you did for the team, he only cared about the team.

Walking on the treadmill was something you found relaxing. Exercise wasn't relaxing to you, but something about walking on the treadmill and just listening to music gave you peace.

You were so in your head, you didn't even realize that someone had started walking on the treadmill beside you and started talking to you. You only realized Arber was talking to you when he tapped you on the shoulder.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt him tap you, "Whoa!"

"Sorry, didn't realize you couldn't hear me."

"Yeah, I listen to my music really loud." You took out your earbuds, "So, can I help you with something? Any injuries?"

"No, I just had some questions." He looked almost shy.

"Can't promise I'll have all the answers." You turned to him.

"You and Juraj..." You sighed, "Didn't expect that reaction." He chuckled.

"I don't know what Juraj told you,"

"Said you were exes and that was it."

"And that's all there is." You shrugged.

"No, come on, I saw your face when you walked out of the locker room the other day, and it was not a happy one."

"The end of our relationship wasn't the best." You furrowed your brows together, trying to find the words, "He wasn't there for me when I needed him. I was putting more effort into the relationship than he was."

"That doesn't sound like Juraj."

"And how long have you known him exactly?" You raised a brow. When he didn't respond, you nodded, "Exactly." Arber watched you and waited for you to continue, "He was a good guy at the beginning, really. He was great. But something changed." You explained.

"I'm sorry." He offered a sympathetic smile.

"Well, if that's all the questions you have..."

Arber got the message and took his leave. He stopped the treadmill, "Thanks."

"Glad I could help." You slipped your earbuds back in and continued your walk.

You were watching the game from the medical room. You were lying on the bed in the medbay with Lorelei, eating snacks and enjoying the game.

Everything happened so quickly. One minute Juraj was on the ice and the next he was slammed into the boards by one of the other guys.

The play kept going but Juraj wasn't getting up. You were on your feet, trying to get a better look at what was going on, but when everyone noticed he wasn't getting up, the while was blown and the main medic, your boss Matt, rushed onto the ice.

Matt bent down next to Juraj and was talking to him and you so wished you could've been out there, talking to him. After a lot of waiting, Juraj was helped to his feet, his arms slung over Matt's and a couple other players.

He was shuffled down the tunnel and you could hear the commotion as they got closer and closer to the med room.

They carried him into the room and set him on the bed. You tried to figure out what was going on, "What's wrong?" You asked Matt, fiddling with your necklace nervously.

"I don't know yet. He says his entire left leg hurts, so we're trying. to narrow down where it hurts first." Matt snapped on a pair of gloves as he pushed through the crowd of people surrounding the bed.

Matt started pushing down his leg to find the spot that hurt. He eventually got to Juraj's knee, and when he did, Juraj let out the most pained noise you'd ever heard him make.

They pulled all the padding away and saw that his knee was very dislocated, "Okay, there's our culprit." Matt sighed, running a gloved wrist across his sweaty forehead.

"All right, we're gonna pop it back into place, but it's gonna hurt, I'm not gonna lie." The paramedic in the room told him.

His eyes frantically searched the room and when he found yours, it was almost like he was begging you to hold his hand. And you couldn't deny him of that, so you made your way over and hand his hand.

"Okay, are you ready?" Juraj looked anything but ready, "All right, on the count of three." The paramedic nodded.

You looked over at Juraj and saw the nervous look written all over his face, "You're gonna be okay." You reassured, "Just... think of something else. Think of what you're gonna eat after this or your favorite candy."

"I can't." He shook his head, eyes watering at the pain.

"It's gonna be okay. I promise." You squeezed his hand, "My favorite is Milkyway." He was barely paying attention to as he gritted his teeth in pain. You were tempted to kiss his forehead or something, but that wasn't your job anymore. The most you could offer was your hand.

"One, two, three." Once she hit 3, she snapped his knee back into place. He cried out in pain, "All right, you're all done, Juraj." She announced, "Now we're going to take you to the hospital so you can get further accessed and we'll put a splint on there."

"When will I get to play?" Even with tears on his face, all he was worried about was playing hockey.

"Let's just worry about your getting your knee accessed then we'll worry about playing." The paramedic smiled, pulling up the rails on the gurney.

Your hand slipped from his and you watched them wheel him away, "He's gonna be okay." Lorelei told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and let Lorelei hug you.

After dislocating his knee, Juraj was out for almost 7 weeks, you didn't see much of him, but after he was cleared, it almost seemed like you were seeing him everywhere.

And it was intentional, on Juraj's part. After the accident, it was almost like a wake-up call.

Even though you weren't together, you showed up and were there for him in the medbay, holding his hand and reassuring him that everything was going to be okay.

During practice, you just so happen to be hanging by the bench with Lorelei, talking about your plans, "You sure you don't want to come out with us?" Juraj heard Lorelei ask as he made his way over to the bench to get some water.

"I'm fine, really." You insisted.

"All right, but next time, you're coming out with us."

"All right." You smiled. She walked back down the tunnel, but you sat down on the bench, watching practice.

"You should go out with them." Juraj voiced. As the words escape him, he wanted to hit himself. You turned to him, brows furrowed together, "Sorry, that was wrong."

"It was." You nodded, "But I want to know why you think that?"

"Because I know you, Y/N. You probably don't have many friends right now,"

"Okay, rude." You crossed your arms.

"But am I wrong?"

You hesitated, "No."

"See? So, go. Hang out with them. You'll have fun." He insisted.

"Why are you pushing this so hard? We don't like each other."

"Who said I didn't like you?" Juraj asked in a tone that made him sound offended.

"You did when you brushed me off the other day." You reminded him. You raised a brow when he stayed quiet, "I'll see you around, Juraj." You followed in Lorelei's footsteps and made your way back down the tunnel.

With Matt's secondhand medic being out with a cold, you were taking his place behind the bench. So, during the game, you were standing towards the entrance of the tunnel where the second medic usually would be.

"This your first time on the bench?" Cole Caufield asked.

"That obvious?"

"If your good at your job, you've got nothing to be worried about." He offered you a smile.

"Thanks." You nodded.

Juraj, who was sitting further down the bench, saw Cole talk to you. He saw you laugh at a joke Cole made, a total cliche. He looked away, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Not your girl." He muttered to himself in Slovakian so the guys sitting next to him assumed he was just giving himself a pep talk.

A couple of days later at practice, you were carrying some supplies to the medbay. Your headphones were in and you were in work mode. You happened to walk past the hallway where the locker room was and happened to make eye contact with Juraj.

He was entering the locker room post-practice. You were prepared to just ignore him and walk past him but he offered you a smile, and when you returned it, confused, he stopped in his tracks and made his way over to you instead.

You furrowed your brows together and set the boxes in your hands on the ground, taking out your earbuds, "Juraj." You greeted, "Hope you aren't injured."

"Nope, all good." He shook his head.

"Good." You nodded.

You stood in silence, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you waited for him to say something, "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I just... I wanted to say I had no right for talking to you like I did the other day." You were surprised and your face probably showed it, "So, I'm sorry."

You smiled softly, "Thanks. I appreciate it." He smiled in response before turning and heading back over to the locker room. You watched him, a smile on your face and for the first time in a while, Juraj was the cause of it.

Somehow you ended up working the medical staff booth at the Habs event. You were standing behind the table, watching as everyone passed by, seemingly having no interest in the medical staff.

You sighed for the umpteenth time, "Excuse me?" You heard a familiar voice and looked up, "Have you ever stitched up Suzuki?" Juraj joked.

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Not yet, but I have stitched up a few of the other guys, ya know, the nobodies." You joked. He nodded along, "Some rookie, Slav-Slafkovsky I think his name was." You laughed when his jaw dropped.

"A nobody? Really?"

"I'm just kidding. You aren't a nobody. You're somebody." You punched him softly in the shoulder from across the table.

"So, where are all the people? Why is your booth so empty?"

"Since you asked so kindly," You joked, "Captain Suzuki and Cole are doing a signing so everyone's probably over there. I'm surprised you aren't over there."

"Why would I be over there?"

"'Cause all your friends are over there and you'd get to take pictures and sign autographs." You shrugged.

"Well, I'm hanging out with a friend right now and I can sign autographs and take pictures from here."

"That's not really what this booth is for, but it's the thought that counts." He shrugged, "Also, we're friends?"

"Are we not?"

"I don't know it's just we don't really talk and on the off chance that we did talk, you were either brushing me off or apologizing."

"I thought we were friends."

"I don't know, I guess we can try to be."

You smiled. He smiled back.

Juraj had been replaying your conversation over and over in his head for almost 2 weeks before he finally gathered up the courage to talk to you again.

You and Lorelei were talking in the little dining hall in the arena. He approached your table and when Lorelei saw him approaching, she smirked before pushing her chair out and walking to the fridge, pretending to be busy.

You smiled at Juraj when he sat down next to you, "Hi."

"Hi." He looked nervous.

"Can I help you with something this fine afternoon, friend?" You asked, taking a bite of your sandwich.

"I've been thinking about our conversations for the past 2 weeks." He took a breath, "And I don't want our first conversation as real friends to be an apology, but I need to apologize to you for how our relationship ended." You nodded along cautiously.

"I was a horrible partner to you, and I can't go back in time and change things or stop what happened, but I can offer an apology."

You smiled softly, "I appreciate that. It means a lot." You reached over and grabbed his hand, "But now I think it's time for us to stop apologizing. Well, unless you do something crappy again."

He laughed, "All right, no more apologizing, unless I'm a jerk again."

"Starting now." You held out your hand.

"Now." He nodded, shaking your hand with a laugh.

"So, Juraj is doing his first post-practice media since his injury." Lorelei brought it up to you as you were cleaning the medbay.

"Is he?"

"Yeah, he is." She smirked, "Just wanted to let you know, ya know, just in case you want to skip out on me."

"I'm not gonna ditch you." You laughed, but paused, "Hypothetically..."

"Go." She didn't even let you finish.

You smiled before running out of the room and rushing to find the media room where Juraj would be. You stopped in the doorway, surprised that you found the space practically empty save for one reporter sitting in the back row.

Juraj had yet to come in, so you took a seat in the front row. When he did walk into the room, he froze briefly before making his way up to the table.

He locked eyes with you as you flashed him a smile, "Don't all raise your hands at once." He joked.

The man in the back raised his hand, and Juraj called on him, seeing as he was the only guy in the room. He asked his question, and Juraj gave a very "hockey player" response.

Then an awkward silence fell over the room, and Juraj waited for the reporter to ask a question. When he didn't, you quickly raised your hand. He looked surprised when he saw your hand shoot up.

Your arms were moving faster than your brain as you quickly tried to come up with a question, "Yes, in the front." He pointed to you, attempting to hide his shock.

"Yes, Juraj." You nodded, "Y/N Y/L/N with Canadiens Today." He smiled, "My question is what's your pregame meal?"

Juraj laughed, "I'm pretty basic. Pasta guy, maybe throw in some veggies if I'm feeling fun."

You got up from your seat and ran around to the row behind you and took a seat again, raising your hand again. He broke into a smile when he caught onto what you were doing, "Yes, you." He pointed to you.

This went on for a couple more questions. You switching sets and asking him a question. You knew this probably wouldn't get published out into the world, but the room was empty you were there, so you might as well ask the questions.

After media was over, the reporter walked out of the room, but you stayed. Juraj smiled at you, "Thank you for that. It was embarrassing as it was to walk into an empty room."

"We're friends. It's what friends are for." You shrugged, sending him a smile.

The Canadiens charity dinner/gala was an event you were looking forward to. Kirby had asked you to go, purely as a friend. He didn't have a date and you were friends.

"Do you want a drink?"

"Sure, thanks." You smiled.

Kirby headed over to the bar while you took in the decorations around the room, "You look nice." Juraj complimented as he approached you.

"Thanks." You smiled, looking back at the large lighting fixture hanging from the ceiling.

"So, you came with Dach?"

"He asked, I accepted." You shrugged.

"We could've gone together."

"You didn't ask." You raised a brow at him, "If you had asked, I would have said yes."

Juraj didn't respond, instead, he took in your words as Kirby made his way back over with your drinks in hand, "Hey, good to see you." Kirby greeted, handing you your drink.

"Yeah, you too." Juraj nodded his head, "I'm gonna go find my seat." Juraj turned and walked towards the tables, trying to find his name card.

You and Kirby followed in his footsteps and made your way over to the tables to find your own name tags. To your luck, you were seated at the same table as Juraj and a few of the other guys.

"What a fun coincidence." You laughed, taking your seat, Juraj on your left and Kirby on your right.

"Yeah." Juraj managed a laugh, one that didn't quite reach his eyes but you and everyone else at the table failed to realize.

Once everyone else got situated and seated at their tables, the event organizers gave a speech and a few other higher-up team members.

Eventually, the appetizer came out, and when you got a chance to look at what was on your plate, you stared at it, "Everything okay?" Kirby asked, noticing your intense staring competition with the olives and cherry tomatoes mixed in with the salad on the plate.

"Oh, yeah, all good." You nodded, "Not the biggest fan of olives and tomatoes." Juraj knew it was the understatement of the year. You absolutely hated both of them.

You pushed the olives and tomatoes to the side of your plate, trying not to make a scene. Juraj, without even thinking, reached over and scooped the two things off your plate and onto his.

You stared at him, watching him eat the olives and tomatoes from his own salad, "What're you doing?"

"You hate them." He shrugged as if it was nothing.

"Juraj..." You sighed.

"What? Were you gonna eat them?" He asked.

"No."

"Then why waste food?" He shrugged again. You laughed, shaking your head and reaching for your drink, rejoining the conversation.

Juraj felt almost like he had won. He made you smile and that was a win in his book.

You were slipping a shirt over your head when you heard a knock on your hotel room door. This was one of the first roadies you and Lorelei were given the "okay" from Matt to come.

You assumed it was Lorelei but when you opened it, you were surprised to find Juraj instead, "Oh." You halted in your steps.

"Hi." He stood in the doorway nervously.

"Hi." You smiled, "Gosh, you're shaking like a leaf. Are you okay? Are you cold?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded, "I was just-I came to ask you-I was wondering-"

"Juraj, geez, it's just me. Calm down, take a breath." You chuckled, watching him stutter over his words.

"Do you want to hang out with me today?" He finally spat out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I already have plans." Everyone was given the day off so you and Lorelei were planning on checking out the city and being tourists.

"I talk to Lorelei already. She's spending the day with a few of the other guys."

"Wow, you really thought this through." You laughed, "What did you have planned?"

"Well, I've never been to Seattle before, so maybe we can start there?"

"Well, you're in luck, I've been before and I know all the best places."

"Great." You grabbed your bag, a jacket and your room key then stepped out into the hallway together.

You did all the touristy things with Juraj. You visited the Space Needle, visited Pike Place Market, and even got coffee from the first Starbucks.

You tried to convince him it was just overpriced Starbucks that you would have to wait in an hour-long line for, but he wanted the experience and who were you to deny him of that?

After spending the entire day exploring the city, you and Juraj sat down for dinner at a little lowkey restaurant, nothing fancy, "So, did you enjoy the Y/N Tour today?"

"I did. I'd give you 5 stars."

"Ah, thanks." You laughed, "What was your favorite part of today?"

"The Needle was fun."

"I figured it would be."

"Why is that?"

"'Cause it was my favorite too, and we like a lot of the same things." You answered, taking a bite of your sandwich.

He watched you while you watched the people outside the window. He smiled, taking a bite of his own sandwich as he followed your eyes and people-watched along with you.

Later that night, you and Juraj were walking back down the hallway toward your hotel room, "I'm glad you asked me to be your tour guide today."

"Yeah, well it was either you or Wifi, and don't tell him I told you this, but I think you're prettier than him." You laughed as you slid your room key into the lock.

"Well, goodnight, Juraj. I'll see you tomorrow." You smiled.

"See you tomorrow." He repeated, sending you a smile.

You closed the door and shucked off your jacket and bag. Right as you kicked off your shoes, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed together as you made your way back over to the door.

"Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, I did." He nodded, "Can I kiss you?" You blinked like a fish, trying to comprehend what he said, "I would've just gone for it without asking, but you always tell me consent is important."

Your brain started working again, and you smiled, "Yeah, you can kiss me." You nodded. He leaned forward, cupping your cheek and kissing you. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

As you pulled away, you could see something in his eyes. It wasn't regret nor was it joy, he looked conflicted, "Are you okay?" You asked.

Instead of responding, he pushed your arms away and turned in the opposite direction, walking towards his hotel room. He left you standing there, confused.

The morning after the kiss, you tried to confront him during breakfast, but by the time you made it down for breakfast, he had already left for practice.

"So he kissed you and bailed?" Lorelei asked.

"Just walked away." You nodded.

"That's strange." She commented, "I'm not a betting woman, Y/N, but if I were, I would bet a whole paycheck that Juraj is still in love with you."

You shook your head with a roll of your eyes, "That's not true."

"Oh, it absolutely is. and your denying it is silly. I know you still like him, maybe even love him."

"I don't love him." You denied once again.

"All right, you don't." She shrugged.

Juraj had been avoiding you. He didn't know how to confront you. He kissed you. It had been a good kiss, great even. But for some reason, he ran off.

He knew he had to confront you and admit how he really felt, but the one thing he was scared of more than anything was being rejected. He could handle you hating him and not talking to him and being upset with him, but he could not physically handle you rejecting him.

He had tried on numerous occasions to approach you. He approached you but when opened his mouth, nothing came out. Another time, he, once again, opened his mouth to say something, but someone else called your name and before you noticed him, you were being pulled in another direction.

When he saw you walking down the hall, he knew he had to say something, "Y/N." He called out.

You looked up from your phone and when you saw it was him, you were ready to turn around and walk in the opposite direction, "No, wait, please." He begged.

You slowly turned around to face him, and slid your hands into your pockets, "Can I talk to you?"

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" He winced at the way the sentence had come out, but he knew he deserved it. After all, he kissed you and then ran off.

"Right, I just wanted to clarify something." You nodded, "I'm sorry for what I did. I didn't mean to run off like that, I swear. I just, I think my legs moved faster than my brain." You were confused and your face must've shown it.

"What I'm trying to say is I wanted to kiss you, and I had it all planned out in my head. I was gonna kiss you, and I was gonna confess my feelings for you, but then I ran because I was scared you wouldn't feel the same way. Still am, by the way. Scared you won't feel the same."

"Juraj..."

"I like you, Y/N, and boy does it feel good to say that. Because I've been holding that in for so long. Longer than I'd like to admit." You simply stared at him, eyes wide.

"Say something." He begged. But you couldn't. You were shocked. He actually liked you. He frowned when you didn't respond, only stare at him. He took your silence as his answer and once again, turned and left you alone again.

You sat by yourself in the arena, trying to understand what just happened. You were an artist, but you could draw the look on Juraj's face when you didn't say anything, and it hurt that your brain didn't move fast enough to say anything.

No one was in the arena except for the Zamboni which was going over the ice, but you were sitting in the nosebleeds section so you would be left alone by anyone on the ice.

"What're you doing up here by yourself?" You turned around to see Arber standing a few seats away.

"Thinking."

"Hmm." He hummed, "You and Juraj look the same. You're both moping, which means something happened, so spill."

"I messed up." You told him in a tone that let Arber know that it was more than a little mistake. He sat down in the chair next to you. You filled him in on what happened and he sat there and listened, he didn't interrupt you.

"You know what you have to do?" You looked over at him, "You gotta tell him how you feel. You're both hurting. It's so clear you both still have feelings for each other, and the only way to stop the hurting is to admit the truth. Tell him how you feel, Y/N. What's stopping you?"

"You didn't see his face. He was heartbroken."

"Then go." He told you.

You stared at his door, hesitating. After a few mental pep talks, you finally raised your hand to knock on his door. You heard someone making their way to the door, and when it opened, instead of Juraj, you were met with his roommate.

"Are you here for Juraj?"

"Yeah." You nodded. His roommate moved out of the way just enough for you to enter. When you walked in, you looked around.

"He's in his room." He pointed down the hall to Juraj's room. You knocked on his door and waited for a response.

"Come in." You opened the door and saw him laying in his bed, looking just as miserable as you, "What're you doing here?"

"You didn't let me say anything."

"I did. I waited."

"Then that's my fault. I was trying to figure out what to say, but I couldn't get it out."

He stared at you, trying to decipher what was happening, "Are you here to reject me again?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you about something else." You stepped into his room, shutting the door behind you, "I talked with Arber, who gave me some good advice."

"Did he now?"

"Juraj," You took a breath, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier. But I'm here now, and I want to say I feel the same way about you." He raised a brow, "I like you, too. Maybe even love you, but I'm not sure about that yet."

He stared at you the same way you had stared at him when he proclaimed his feelings for you, "I probably always have and always will. Somewhere along the way, I forgot about that because I was blinded by the hurt and pain you caused, but seeing you again and spending time with you, it was like all those feelings came rushing back like a waterfall."

He smiled as he listened to you. He could tell you meant it as he watched you, "You don't have to love me right now 'cause I'll love enough for the both of us."

He jumped out of bed and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly, "I do love you." He spoke into your hair before kissing your head. You smiled, letting out a happy and relieved sigh as you hugged him back, relishing the feeling of having his arms back around you.

"Special delivery!" Lorelei announced walking into the medbay with a package in her hands, "Special delivery for one Mrs. Y/N Slafkovsky." She joked.

"Okay, you can stop with the wedding jokes. We aren't married, we're just dating. We're taking things slow."

"I know, but it's still funny." She set the box down on the table. You looked over at her, "What? Are you gonna open it?"

You laughed, grabbing a pair of scissors and opening the box. You smiled happily when you pulled out all the bubble wrap, revealing heaps and heaps of Milkyway bars.

"What is it?" Lorelei asked.

"Milkyway." You pulled out a bar and unwrapped it, taking a bite.

"Come on, as my girlfriend you have to wear my jersey."

"I already have a jersey."

"Yeah, with some other guy's name on it."

"I'll be sure to tell your captain he's just another guy." You joked.

"Please?" He begged.

"I'm kidding. Of course, I'll wear it." You grabbed it from him and set it aside. You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him, "Be great."

"Always am." He wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"Score a goal for me."

"Who do you think I am? That would make me the worst boyfriend in the world. With you in the crowd? Now I've gotta do it."

"I'm in the crowd more often than you'd think." You reminded him, "Behind the bench and all."

"But this is different." He pointed out.

"All right, whatever you say." You smiled, pushing yourself up. He got the picture and leaned down, kissing you.

During warm-ups, he skated past multiple times, slammed into the glass a few times, and right before he skated off the ice, he tossed a puck over the glass to you and winked.

You smiled, slipping into your pocket, "You're making me feel really lonely." Lorelei joked.

"Sorry." You laughed.

"Don't you dare apologize." She nudged you softly.

Halfway through the 3rd period, the Habs were up by 2 and things looked like they were only going up from there. You watched as Jake Evans passed it to Anderson who passed it back to Jake. He skated down the ice, looking for someone to pass to.

Juraj hopped off the bench after switching with another player. Jake passed it over to Juraj, who skated around the Yotes player and tricked the goalie.

He looked like he was going left, but instead shot from the right. You jumped out of your seat and hugged Lorelei as the goal horn sounded.

Juraj was pulled into hugs by his teammates as he celebrate. Before he skated over to the bench, he pointed over to you. When you locked eyes, he blew you a kiss, dedicating his goal to you.

You laughed as you felt eyes from everywhere on you. The celly replayed as he skated past you and pointed to you and blew you a kiss.

"I'm calling that the Y/N goal." Lorelei joked, nudging you with her arm softly.

When you woke up that morning, you felt like everything was wrong. That could have partly been because you woke up late and accidentally pressed stop instead of snooze. And when you got to work, it felt like things were only going worse.

So, during your lunch break, you found yourself on the treadmill, trying to not cry as the stress of your day got to you. You walked at the slowest speed as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe.

"Hey, I've been looking for you all day." Juraj joined you on the treadmill next to you. He was walking at a faster pace as he talked about his day.

He was telling you a funny story about how practice was going when he looked over and noticed you weren't paying attention, "Hey, you okay?"

You opened your eyes, "No, everything is bad."

"What do you mean?"

"Today has not been good, and I've been trying to turn it around, but it's not working."

"Do you want to keep talking about it?" You shook your head, "Are you gonna cry?" You nodded, "All right." He stopped his treadmill and turned yours off.

You stood at the end of the treadmill as he wrapped you in a hug, letting you cry out all the emotions from the day. He didn't say anything, he only rubbed your back and let you cry, and placed a few kisses on your head.

About a month after your first game, you were sitting in a different spot in the arena, but it was still out of your price range if you were to buy your own ticket.

You watched Juraj get into a fight then watched him get ejected. The fight wasn't anything bad and it wasn't any different than any other fight, but something was wrong with him, you could see it.

You gathered your stuff up and made your way down to the locker room. You peeked into the locker room and saw him sitting in his stall, looking as dejected as ever.

He heard your footsteps walking into the room, then looked down, "You aren't supposed to be in here during the game." You ignored him and approached him, "Did you hear me? You aren't supposed to be here."

You sat down next to him and reached for his hand. You didn't say anything, but when you slipped your hand into his, his body deflated. and he melted into you.

You didn't say anything as you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned down and leaned his head on your shoulder as his body molded into yours.

And that was that. Neither of you said anything. You only sat in the locker room, Juraj clinging to you in silence.

You and Juraj were sitting in different rooms in your apartment. He came over after practice and the two of you kind of just stayed in separate rooms doing your own thing.

You made your way out of your bedroom and into the kitchen but as you passed the living room, you saw Juraj sprawled out on your couch. His eyes were closed but you could tell he wasn't asleep.

You set your mug down on the table next to the couch and sat down next to him. You ran your hands up his arm, then leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"You finally done?"

"Almost. One more paragraph then I'm all yours for the rest of the night." He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to lay on his chest, "One more paragraph, come on." You laughed.

"That's too much." He whined, closing his eyes as if he were going to fall asleep.

"No, come on. I'm almost done!" You begged. He only pretended to snore. You sighed, laying your head on his chest as you gave in to your fate.

You both eventually fell asleep and when you. woke up, it was much late. You woke up before him and looked up at him tiredly, smiling.

"Creep." He muttered as he opened his eyes and saw you staring at him. You rolled your eyes.

He yawned as he began waking up, "Don't you think it's crazy that almost a year ago you couldn't even be in the same room as me."

"Crazy." He hummed.

"Sometimes good things really do take time." You smiled.

"Well, then I'm glad I waited." He leaned down, kissing you softly.

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ahockeywrites · 3 months

Text

Proof is in the Pudding

pairing: arber xhekaj x ofc!lila rogers

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

warnings: death of parents length: 2k +

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

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

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

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secretlittlerandezvous · 2 years

Text

Exhaustion - Josh Anderson

Summary: Tired and overwhelmed reader limits her contact with Josh. He finds her asleep after returning home from a trip.

Words: 1675

It was Y/n’s first instinct, a natural reaction she hardly ever noticed but it happened every time. Each time life was getting a little too overwhelming she distanced herself from people she loved. The explanation was simple. She didn’t like it when her loved ones worried about her, and it was always something that passed away on its own. Sooner or later anyway. Her issues were her own, her worries were her own and so on and so on. There was no need to bother someone else with it. People around her saw through it, of course they knew something was upsetting her. They tried to help, cheer her up. But she avoided them, declined all offers. Too stubborn to accept a helping help. And so, they learnt to give her time and space, to check up on her occasionally to make sure she was doing okay and to wait for her to get back to them.

This time was no different. As soon as the first leaves turned yellow and started covering the streets of the city the time started to go fast and she felt behind. Behind her work, behind her studies, behind her personal and social life. There was simply not enough time. And when all the work and studying piled up into one big mess her body gave up. Y/n tried to ignore the feeling of hopelessness for as long as she could. But one Friday afternoon after yet another bad day at work, after forgetting to turn in her essay it all broke inside her. She came home and cried for hours, staining the pillows of the living room’s sofa with mascara.

Josh was in the US with his team and Y/n felt lonelier without him than usual. He was a tough guy on the ice, tough guy in front of his teammates but to her he was the nicest person she’s ever met. He knew what she needed better than herself. When to cuddle her, when to surprise her with ice cream, when to give her space and when to just listen to her venting for hours and hours. She wanted him back more than anything. If only he was home, he would know what to do to comfort her. But he was far away with the team, doing exceptionally well with three wins in a row and she wasn’t going to ruin it.

Sure, she could call him or text him to complain a little. Get a little bit of steam off her chest. But he would get too worried, he might stop focusing on the game. No. She wasn’t going to be a distraction. She can deal with it on her own.

And so, for the following few days Y/n limited her interactions with everyone to minimum, focused purely on finishing everything that needed to be finished. Every day she became more exhausted and by the end of the week she could barely walk. She didn’t even know where the strength to carry on was coming from.

She limited her interactions with Josh as well. She didn’t answer his FaceTime calls because he would see how tired she was and hardly ever picked up a call because he’d tell just from the tone of her voice there was something wrong. The excuses came easy to her: once she was in the shower, then she was stuck at work, other time she forgot her phone in the car and didn’t notice. Even her texts were as short and as simple as possible. Josh spammed her phone with sweet messages and voice notes daily and it made her both unbelievably happy and sad. She felt bad for being so cold to him, he in no way deserved it. But it was for his own good and for the good of his team as well.

Josh noticed the change in her behavior immediately. Most guys wouldn’t notice the tiny changes, but he did. And he was sick worried about what was going on back home.

“For the millionth time Josh, “Y/n sighed during one phone call. “Everything’s fine.”

“If you say so,” Josh answered with a hint of disappointment. He knew he was getting nowhere with his questions, but he didn’t know what else he could do since he was away. Maybe it was nothing, but what if it was?

And not only he was worried, but he also missed her. He was used to traveling, being away from people he was close to, but when she came into his life everything or rather, he changed. And sleeping without her in his arms meant a bad night’s sleep. A day without seeing her meant an okay day at best. Going without her touch or kiss for longer than a day could drive him insane. He needed her. More than he would admit to himself, to her or anyone else.

The days kept on passing and Y/n completely lost count of the days. She didn’t know if it was Monday or Thursday, if October ended already or not yet. She had no track of time. Every single day she woke up and went either to school or to work, survived until it was time to leave and then kept on working at home until she passed out. She didn’t remember the last time she had a proper meal or a shower longer than 5 minutes because she was too tired to stand there and wash herself. She rushed personal care to have more time to focus on what she needed to focus on.

Another Friday, two weeks later after Y/n’s issues started was spent at her desk studying. Writing three essays at once while also making notes to study for her exams. It also happened to be the Friday of Josh’s arrival which Y/n completely forgot about.

On the other hand, Josh couldn’t wait to be home finally to check on her.

As soon as he landed in Montreal, he wasted no time and rushed to her apartment. His heart was beating fast with anticipation. He was overjoyed with the results of the last couple of games, but he was most happy about being home and to be just a few minutes away from seeing Y/n after such long time. He didn’t know what news were waiting for him, how bad or serious it was going to be, but he felt relieved anyway. Relived because he would soon know, relieved because he could take care of everything now.

He unlocked the doors and entered the deadly silent apartment. He saw a light in the living room, but the tv wasn’t playing and Y/n wasn’t running to greet him like she usually did. He continued from the hall to the living where he finally saw his girlfriend. Fast asleep on the desk surrounded by papers and post it notes. He stopped for a moment just to adore her face. She was in a deep sleep, most likely a very needed sleep. Her hair was slightly messy but that just made her look cuter in his eyes. He slowly came to her; with gentle touch he removed a piece of hair from her face and tucked in behind her ear. He sneaked his hands around her waist, kissed the top of her head and just as he was about to lift her up, she woke up. Her eyes opened slowly, she looked around trying to figure out what was happening around her and when she realized Josh was standing there just few inches away from her, she gave him a surprised look.

“I’ll punish you for not greeting me later,” he laughed. “But right now, I just want to go to bed and cuddle.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, but she wrapped her hands tightly around his neck, he hugged her even tighter and kissed the side of her face a few times. He then took her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom where he tucked her in. His heart could just melt seeing her so sleepy.

“I couldn’t wait for you to come back,” she mumbled into his chest when she snuggled next to him.

He pulled her closer to his body, making sure she was safe and sound and kissed her again and again. At that moment it felt like a single kiss could fix all her worries. His fingers gently ran through her hair, occasionally scratching her head and each time he did that Y/n let out a quiet whimper of enjoyment. His other hand caressed the skin of her back. Y/n for the first time in over two weeks relaxed, she wasn’t tense anymore, all worries disappeared from her mind as soon as his strong arms wrapped themselves around her body.

“Don’t you wanna tell me what was going on, baby?” Josh whispered into her ear as he kept playing with her hair.

Y/n snuggled even closer to him, took a deep breath and thought for a moment of what to say. She realized now how scared he must’ve been and for what? For nothing more serious than a little bit of stress. “There was just too much going on,” she said quietly. “Too much work and studying. I felt very behind everything.” She then added and stroked the palm of his hand with her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked although he already knew the answer.

“Didn’t want to worry you?” she answered. “And yes, I do realize now I made you more worried by not telling you.” She admitted.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re safe”. He kissed her. “I love you so much, I couldn’t wait to be back home with you. To hold you and fall asleep with you beside me. And most importantly I couldn’t wait to figure out what was going on with you.” Josh paused for a moment realizing he was getting no reaction from her. “Baby?” he whispered and looked at her. She was asleep with a smile on her face, clinging onto him.

“Good night baby.”

#josh anderson #josh anderson imagine #josh anderson one shot #josh anderson writing #josh anderson imagines #montreal canadiens #montreal canadiens imagine #montreal canadiens one shot #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl one shot #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey one shot #nhl players imagine

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senditcolton · 2 years

Text

The Movie of Us

summary: you broke up with Josh three years ago but he’s still haunting you. what do you do when the ghost from your past comes back?

prologue | epilogue word count: 21k warnings: alcohol, cursing, smut (but not explicit), and a whole lot of angst with a happy ending

SPRING

“He’s back in town, you know.”

You have to stop the tremor that threatens to run through you at Katie’s words. If she had noticed, you could always blame it on the rapidly cooling spring night. But even then, you knew she wouldn’t believe the lie.

She had been there. She knew why your shoulders tensed at the mere mention of him.

“So?” you reply, trying to relax back into the couch cushions on your back porch, taking another sip of your drink, eyes focused on the horizon.

“No reason. Just thought you might like to know.”

You glance over to her, the light breeze ruffling her hair as she blatantly ignores your gaze.

“Katie,” you say, your tone enough for her to direct her attention back to you.

“Babe, I’m sorry but it’s been… what, three years?” Katie says, this time turning her entire body towards you.

“And I say again: so?”

An exasperated huff falls from Katie, a sound you were all too familiar with.

“You are as stubborn as he is.”

“Wait, you’ve talked to him?”

“Yes! I have. Is that a problem? He’s my friend too. Just because you can’t seem to forgive him, doesn’t mean I have to feel the same way.”

The silence that falls between the two of you is heavy, filled with accusations and mistrust. And you hated it.

You didn’t mean for your words to come out as harsh as they did. Didn’t mean for them to cause battle-lines to be drawn, forcing her to take a side. You knew that wasn’t fair.

But you didn’t have the heart to tell her this was how you were coping. It made you feel better, drawing lines, building walls, dissecting the part of you that still held onto him, deeming it as something malignant, something that needed to be cut off.

It was better than the nights you had spent lying in bed, analyzing the moments that the two of you had shared, trying to figure out what had changed between the first and last ‘I love you’.

“Have you tried just talking to him?” Katie asks, her voice softening.

This time, the sigh falls from you. You run your fingers over the rim of your cup, the smooth glass grounding you as your mind threatens to run back to those moments that you wish you could forget; late night talks, laughing under covers, the feeling of his hand tangled up in yours.

“I don’t think I could,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Katie shoot a small sympathetic smile in your direction.

“I’m sorry too. For snapping at you like that. I just think you need to… hell, I don’t know what you need to do.” Her sentence is punctuated with a slight laugh, causing your lips to curl up in response.

“Me neither,” you chuckle, lifting your glass to your lips as your eyes turn once more to the setting sun.

“How about a night out?”

Another glance back towards your best friend, meeting her bright eyes and wide smile. It’s contagious, being around her and her almost continuous positive attitude. Perhaps that’s why you two worked together her. You and your tendency for melancholy. Her and her propensity for joy.

“Why not?”

“Perfect! Just you, me, and a couple of friends?”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply, reclining back, eyes fluttering close as you breathe deeply, letting the spring air fill your lungs.

Completely ignorant to the mischievous glimmer behind Katie’s eyes as she pulls out her phone, finding the number connected to the four-letter name that you wish you could forget, and typing out a quick message.

Hey Josh! Me and a few friends are planning to go out for drinks this weekend. Want to tag along? Message sent Monday, April 20th at 7:53pm

Sure, just tell me when and where. Message received Monday, April 20th at 8:22pm

*~*~*~*

8 o’clock.

That was the time Katie said she would meet you at the bar. You were sure of it.

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, you pull out your phone, double-checking the text thread between the two of you. And yep. 8 o’clock.

You sigh, leaning back against the leather of the random booth you had claimed for your friends. Your friends who weren’t here yet. Your eyes wander around the room, glancing at the door, waiting for someone to walk in. Katie, Austin, Taylor, Delia… someone.

Again, your phone is removed from your pocket as you pull up your messages, ready to text Katie, asking where she was. But before you can even type out a single word, a voice dances over the noise of the bar.

“Is this seat taken?”

You feel your muscles tense underneath your skin at the sound. You knew that voice. You had heard it in your dreams or perhaps in your nightmares; you never quite knew how to define them when you woke up. But you remembered that every morning, you had prayed to forget that voice.

It never worked. He always came back to haunt you.

But he was just a ghost in your dreams. If you looked up now, he would become real again.

Don’t look up, your brain screamed at you, pleading. Unfortunately, your heart had already made the decision long before your mind did.

Your eyes flickered up. And there he stood.

He looked good. That was your first thought. He looked really good. His hair was a little longer than you remember, his shoulders broader. But he still had that same gentle smile. The same beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey,” he breathed out, the word almost sounding like a question instead of a greeting. You couldn’t quite find your own voice, your eyes simply continuing to travel across the contours of his face. If he notices, he doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, the smile remains as he lets you examine at him.

Finally, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your trance and you hate how you feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“So, is this seat taken?” he chuckles lightly, gesturing to the empty space across from you. A quick shake of your head is the only reply you are able to give but it seems to be enough for Josh, as he sits down, the leather sighing underneath the weight of him.

And the silence settled with him. You weren’t quite sure how to describe it; tense would be the word that you would attach to it if you were asked. But even then, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Yes, there was a layer of hesitance, of trepidation. But there was also an undercurrent of familiarity. As if you hoped he would return to you. As if you had been waiting for him to walk back into your life, no matter how much you denied it.

“How have you been?” Josh asks, breaking the silence between you.

“Good,” you murmur. “You?”

“Pretty good,” he responds. And the silence falls again.

You can’t stop your eyes from ducking down, your fingers tapping a rhythm on the wooden tabletop, trying to fill the space with some form of noise, trying (and failing) to find comfort in the middle of all of this. Once again, it is Josh that speaks first.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asks and you think that you hear a slight hint of concern in his voice, as if he was afraid you had moved on. That you were waiting for the person that had taken his place.

No, that was ridiculous. He was just being polite, not wanting to interrupt your night. Same sweet Josh Anderson. You wish you could hate him for it.

“Yeah,” you reply, perhaps letting the pause between your words linger a bit longer than necessary. “Just Katie and a few other friends. She said they’d be here at 8.”

“She told me that too,” he sighs, leaning back, his own eyes glancing towards the entrance. It takes a minute for his words to register but when they do, your eyes snap up to him.

“Wait, Katie invited you?”

“Yeah, she texted me saying that her and a few friends were going out and if I wanted to come too,” he explains smoothly, glancing back at you.

“Oh.” The single syllable falls from your lips without warning and when it does, you hope it is lost in the noise of the bar. You weren’t so lucky.

“Why?” Josh asks again, his eyebrows lifted in question.

“I just…” you begin, trying to string together a group of words that sounded believable. “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. Thought you might still be in Montreal.”

It was a lie. A blatant lie. But Josh didn’t need to know that.

“I got back about a week ago,” he tells you. You hum in response.

A part of you wished it was easier; talking to him. But the silence between you wasn’t just an empty nothingness. It was filled with memories: the good and the bad. And you weren’t sure which ones hurt more. You weren’t sure which ones were playing through Josh’s mind as the two of you sat there across from each other, in a bar that was all too familiar, in a town where you knew you could never escape him.

A small laugh falls from Josh and your eyes dart up to him once more. He’s reclined back into the booth, his arms lifting behind him and you have to stop yourself from watching the way his muscles flex.

“I actually haven’t been in this bar forever,” he says, his own gaze travelling over the memorabilia on the walls, the dark wood of the bar top, the old jukebox in the corner. “Do you remember that time after Taylor’s engagement when we all came and got them drunk.”

“Well, to be fair, if they hadn’t dated Austin for so long before finally getting engaged, they wouldn’t have had to take so many shots,” you reply, the memory tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Was that it? I thought it was one for every time they cried during the proposal?”

“I think it might have been a little bit of both.” Your smile grows wider at the sound of his laughter, the familiar trill of happiness running through you at the sound of it lifting over the chaos of the bar.

Both of your laughter dims but the smiles remain. Perhaps this could be easy. His blue eyes dart to you, his lips curled, his gaze gentle.

“Do you also remember after your high school graduation? You snuck out of your house and in my rental car. And we drove here in the pouring rain.”

And just like that, your smile falls. Because you did remember. But like all memories that involved him, it was one that you wished you were able to forget.

The downpour soaking through your shirt as you ran into the bar. The bartender pouring you and Josh a shot on the house. The two of you linking arms to down the tequila. Josh pulling you out to the empty floor, pulling up some ridiculous 80’s song. His arms wrapping around you, pulling you close to him.

“I really miss that,” you hear his voice sound again, pulling you out of that hazy daydream. He’s looking at you now, with those blue eyes that you had once thought you would wake up to every morning.

“Don’t.” Your voice comes out as a whisper; scared, wounded.

“I miss us.”

“Josh, please. Don’t.”

“Y/N…” Josh says, his voice pleading and you hate the way it cuts into you.

“Josh, stop. I can’t go down that road with you again.”

“Why not? It’s been three years.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? As if there’s some kind of time limit on my emotions. Remember that you were the one that ended things between us. Maybe that means it’s easier for you to remember the good moments and want them back. But you weren’t the one that was left in this town to try and pick up the pieces.”

Your chest is heaving when your words die, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes despite how much you willed them away.

He didn’t deserve to see you cry over him.

“Y/N,” Josh begins and you can see his hand creeping across the table, reaching out to you. The bell above the door rings and your eyes dart to the noise where you see your friends walk in.

“There’s Katie,” you say, cutting off his attempt at reconnection before sliding out of the booth, your words the only explanation for your departure.

You stalk towards Katie and you can see the understanding register on her face when she sees you. You don’t say anything as you grab her arm, dragging her to an empty corner of the bar. Releasing your grip, you turn to her, your expression a mix of anger and betrayal.

“Listen, I can explain,” Katie attempts to start but you stop her with a raised hand.

“You set me up.”

“Yes, I did,” she resigns.

“Why?” you ask, the anger slowly giving way to hurt.

“I just thought… I don’t know,” she tries.

“I’m going to need something better than that.”

“It’s just – Y/N, you can’t keep locking people out and expect to heal. That’s not how it works,” Katie explains, her voice verging on desperate. “I thought that if you just managed to talk to him, you’d realize that.”

A heavy exhale leaves you, as you turn your gaze away from her and back towards the booth where you had left Josh sitting, watching as he catches up with Taylor and Austin.

“So, did you? Talk to him?” Katie asks from besides you. You give her a small affirmative nod. “What did he say?”

“He said he missed us,” you whisper.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you reply, turning your attention back to her. “I’m sorry Katie. I can’t do this tonight. I think I’m going to head home.”

You watch Katie’s face fall at you words, the defeated tone of your voice. In an eerily similar move to Josh, you see her hand reach out to you. Unlike with Josh, you willingly take it.

“I know you’re mad at me, even if you didn’t say it. And I’m sorry. I really want you to stay. But I won’t stop you if you think leaving is what’s best,” she says, her thumb smoothing over the back of your hand. Your head turns back towards Josh and you can feel the pang in your heart when you hear his laughter, so warm and familiar.

“I can’t stay.”

A soft squeeze of your hand pulls your attention back to Katie and she offers you a small smile. You let your lips curl in response and you don’t fight her when she pulls you into a gentle hug.

“Text me when you get home safe,” she whispers in your ear and you nod gently against her shoulder. She lets go, walking away from you as you head in the opposite direction. Bracing yourself against the weight of the door, you ready yourself to walk out and retreat to the comfort of your bedroom’s four walls. But before you do, you look back towards the booth where your friends sat.

And you immediately wished you hadn’t.

Because the instant you did, your eyes connected with his again. Ocean blue, the waves of sadness within in them reflecting back to you.

You pushed yourself out into the spring night before you drowned.

*~*~*~*

A pounding echoing around your skull rouses you from your slumber. You let out a soft groan, pulling the pillow over your head in an attempt to silence the noise and block out the late morning sun filtering through the window.

You didn’t sleep well at all, filling the night with tossing and turning instead of peaceful slumber. It didn’t help that every time you closed your eyes, you saw Josh.

Part of you thought you would’ve gotten used to him haunting you like this. But seeing him again just brought his ghost back with a vengeance instead. You could still feel the stabbing pain in your chest when you had woken up in the middle of the night, after dreaming of him. Just holding you close, his hands cradling you, hearing his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

The gentle pounding that pulled you out of your listless sleep sounds again and you finally realize that it wasn’t your own body creating the racket, but someone knocking at your front door.

You stumble out of bed, not bothering to alter your appearance in any way. It was probably just the mailman. Or maybe it was Katie, coming over to apologize again.

The knocking resumes as you are shuffling towards the door, still soft but very insistent.

“I’m coming,” you call out, your fingers deftly undoing the locks and wrapping around the smooth metal handle. You swing the door open, your eyes finally lifting to meet the figure standing at your threshold. And there is no hiding your surprise when you come face to face with Josh.

“Um, hi,” he stutters out, his eyes quickly flicking downwards and you are suddenly hyperaware of your bare legs, your body only covered by a pair of shorts almost hidden underneath the soft cotton of your favorite oversized t-shirt.

“Hi,” you manage to say, straightening your posture; a guise of confidence. A short silence stretches out between the two of you as you simply look at each other, still unsure.

“Um,” Josh starts again, one hand reaching up to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. You notice the white bowl precariously balanced in his other hand, your brows furrowing in curiosity. “I just wanted to apologize about last night.”

“Oh,” you say softly.

“Yeah…” Josh replies to your quiet acknowledgement. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized that you were right. It wasn’t fair for me to ambush you like that.”

“I mean, technically it was Katie that kind of ambushed both of us.”

“No, I meant… me bringing up the past like that.”

“Oh,” you say again, no actual words coming to mind at his confession.

“Anyways, I – um – I brought you some strawberries from my mom’s garden,” he says, holding out the ceramic to you. You gently take the bowl from his hands, lifting the paper towel covering the top, the sweet scent of the fruit hitting you, a soft smile appearing on your lips.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, returning your gentle smile.

The two of you stand there, on opposite sides of the threshold, tentative smiles being shared until Josh breaks the silence once again.

“Can I talk about something I said last night?” he asks, his voice soft and kind. You give a subtle nod, waiting for him to continue. You can see his chest rise in a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself to speak the next words.

“I mentioned that I missed us?” he says, the should-be statement being phrased as a question, one for you to acknowledge. You feel your stomach twist, that fear that always appeared when you were forced to confront the past rearing its head again. But in the back of your mind, you hear Katie’s words from last night; her advice about the futility of locking people out. You fight back against your concern, giving Josh another nod, urging for him to continue.

“I know that you maybe haven’t forgiven me for how I left. And I am truly sorry about that. But, when I say that I miss us, I don’t just mean us as a couple. I miss talking to you. I miss hanging out with you. I miss being your friend,” he explains. “So, I guess I’m just asking you if there’s a chance that we can be friends again? Maybe we can grab a coffee and just catch up.”

His request lingers in the air between you, as impermanent as the morning fog that sometimes came rolling in from Lake Ontario. You know that you could grasp it, turn it into something lasting. But you hesitate, that fear taking a hold of you again.

“Well, I was just planning on staying home, watch some movies,” you begin to say, your words tinged with rejection despite the fact that you weren’t entirely sure that was what you wanted.

“Oh, well,” Josh says, clearly picking up on your underlying tone. “I’ll just… leave you to it then.”

He starts to turn away, his face disappearing from your line of sight. And there it was: another moment, another choice. A chance for you to retreat back into the comfort of hiding, of leaving him and the past locked outside both your physical and emotional walls. To stay safe in the darkness of your self-made cage.

Instead, you take a step outside your open doorway, the sunlight falling on your skin.

“Josh,” you call out to him. He turns back to you and it’s clear that the hesitance coiled in his body is mirrored in yours. You take a deep breath, silencing that voice that told you to run away.

“You can stay and watch a movie with me. Help me eat all these strawberries. If you want to,” you say, praying that you sound causal enough, pleading for your heart to stop rattling against your ribcage.

But you can’t ignore the way it somersaults when a grin appears on his face. Can’t stop an identical smile from forming on yours.

“I’d love to,” he says.

Your only response is another subtle nod as you step back into your house, holding the door open for him. Josh hops over the threshold, kicking off his shoes and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes bounce around the room.

“Kitchen still in the same place?” he jokes and a soft chuckle falls from your lips as you nod. “Still have a steady supply of vanilla ice cream in the freezer?”

“Always,” you reply, passing him the bowl, and watching as he walks over the hardwood floor, down the familiar hallways, like he never really left.

A few moments later, you find yourselves sitting on the couch, bowls filled with ice cream and fruit, the quiet clinking of silverware against the ceramic the only noise accompanying the soundtrack of the movie playing on your screen.

And Josh stays on his side, feet resting on the cushions in front of him. And you stay on yours, your legs tucked underneath, blanket covering your skin.

And for the first time, the distance between the two of you doesn’t feel like an ocean that you can’t cross.

It just feels comfortable.

*~*~*~*

You weren’t exactly sure what had changed between you and Josh after that first day.

Yes, there were more casual conversations, catching each other up on your respective lives; your progressing career and his new life in Montreal, how your family just got a new dog and how his parents recently moved houses.

You hung out together more, both with friends and just the two of you. The first time the two of you went out with Katie and a few other friends, she had pulled you aside, bewildered but ecstatic. You explained that it was still new, that the two of you were still navigating this tentative friendship and slightly begged her not to make a big deal out of it. She promised she wouldn’t but you couldn’t ignore the looks she shot you every time she saw you and Josh talking.

But things were easier. You assumed that was the most important thing.

Of course, there were moments when things weren’t easy. Like when he would crack a joke that sounded so similar to the ones he used to tell you when you were upset just to see you smile again. Or when he would recline back on your couch and you had to fight the urge to curl up next to him.

But overall, it was nice having him back in your life.

You had missed him. And you could tell he had missed you.

It was another night out, at the same bar with the same friends as the first night you and Josh reconnected. But unlike that first night, you were having fun; dancing with Taylor and Delia, challenging Austin to darts and failing miserably, chirping Josh when he and Katie played pool causing him to mess up a few shots, giving Katie the win.

It was a good night, filled with a lot of laughter and a few too many drinks. You were sitting at the booth with Katie and Josh, not listening to their conversation, instead watching Taylor and Austin sway on the dance floor. You slightly register the sound of Katies voice, saying something about getting another drink but it’s muffled, the alcohol you had consumed making your body heavy and mind hazy. Your eyes gently flutter close, your body sagging to the side, falling until your weight rests against a solid body, head falling onto a broad shoulder.

“Y/N.” A quiet voice calls to you but you ignore it, snuggling deeper into the warmth of the body next to you. The next thing you feel is a hand on your thigh, gently shaking you until your eyes open. It’s only then do you realize that you were leaning against Josh.

You pull back, fighting the heat that crawled up your neck as you mumble out a quick apology, feeling embarrassed as if you were caught with a hand in the cookie jar. But Josh doesn’t seem to share your concern.

“I think it’s time to get you home,” Josh laughs, his easy-going smile never faltering. You pull your lips into a large pout, widening your eyes at him.

“No, c’mon,” you whine. “I’m awake, I swear! Just another hour. Please?” For additional measure, you activate your muscles, causing your bottom lip to quiver. You almost think it works when Josh lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes pulling away from you. But your hope is quickly dashed when his gaze returns to you, the smile still there but his eyes set in stone.

“Nope,” Josh says. “You’ve hit your limit; I know you have. Let’s get you home.”

Before you have another chance to argue, you see Josh pick up your purse from the table, slinging it over his shoulder and walking to the door, forcing you to follow him. You huff, stamping your feet on the hardwood floor beneath the booth before finally admitting defeat, scooting out of your seat and trailing close behind him. Josh looks back, the smile reappearing on his face when he sees that you’ve followed him. Holding the door open for you, he smirks when you pass by him in a huff.

“You’re no fun,” you complain to the almost empty parking lot, when you heard the bar door shut behind you. The only response you get is a soft chuckle and a hand placed on the small of your back as he starts to gently guide you.

You let Josh push you towards his truck, even accepting his hand to hop up into the cab. Watching as he circles the front, you sigh, leaning your head against the cool leather of the seats, your eyes fluttering shut. You wouldn’t admit it to Josh, but he was right. You had hit your limit a while ago but in the hubbub of the bar, it was easy to ignore it. Now, in the silence of the night, you could start to feel your head spinning. You weren’t completely gone, but you were pleasantly buzzed; buzzed enough to know you would wake up with a little regret come morning.

The rumble of the engine causes your eyes to open and you slide your eyes to the left, watching as Josh pulls out of the parking spot, his hands elegantly moving along the wheel. You are oddly captivated by the way his fingers wrap around the leather, the way his arms move and flex when he turns.

A clearing of the throat breaks you out of your reverie and your eyes pop up to Josh’s face, seeing him smirking at you and you once again have to fight off the heat that creeps up your neck to your cheeks. You adjust in your seat, forcing a scowl onto your face.

“The puppy dog eyes always work on you,” you grumble, turning your head to look out the window, pretending that you were still hurt over the fact that he dragged you out of the bar.

“Worked on me,” he playfully corrects, eyes reverting back to the road.

“Yeah, well, why don’t they work anymore?” you chirp back, directing your attention back to him, slightly leaning over the center console. “Am I not cute enough?”

He smiles softly, his eyes darting over to you.

“No, it’s not that,” he murmurs and there is something in his tone that makes you pause. He almost sounded… sad. You recline back into your seat, widening the gap between you and him, choosing to look at his profile illuminated by the passing lights. You didn’t like the feeling that had started to settle over the two of you; heavy and filled with unsaid words. You wanted the lightness and ease that used to be there.

“What if,” you begin, keeping your tone playful, “instead of puppy dog eyes, I got you an actual puppy?” A smile tugs at the corner of Josh’s lips as he glances back over to you.

“What, do you have one hidden in your purse?” You glance down at the small crossbody handbag resting on the carpeted floor, knowing that you could only fit your phone and wallet in there; maybe your sunglasses if you were lucky. And you knew Josh was aware of that fact as well.

“Perhaps…” you reply, trying not to acknowledge the sense of relief that rushed through you at the sound of a laugh rumbling from Josh’s chest. You respond with your own laughter, relaxing once more.

The quiet falls over the two of you again and you let it settle, turning to watch the dim lights of the city pass you by. Leaning your head against the cool glass, you lift your head up to the moon, shining bright in the night sky.

Something about it felt magical.

Your eyes wander over to driver’s seat once more and you catch Josh’s eyes already locked on you; dancing up and down your frame, curled up in his passenger seat, your face towards the moonlight.

A small smile appears on his lips when he catches your gaze, shy and sheepish and you respond with one of your own. The electricity thrums between the two of you and it feels so similar to all those nights in the past when he would drive you back home after curfew, sneaking you back into your bedroom and you would always leave him with a kiss filled with the promise of “see you tomorrow”.

You pull your eyes away from him, trying to banish those memories. That was then. This was now. There was nothing left to do but move on.

The engine rumbles to a stop beneath you and you snap out of your reverie to see your house right outside the window. Josh gets out and is by your side when you push open the passenger door. You hop down, the world swaying beneath your feet at your sudden movement and you can sense Josh move to your side, his hands reaching out towards you.

“I’m fine,” you say, playfully swatting his hands away. Josh doesn’t give you a verbal response, just a smirk and a small step back.

“I’ll walk you to the front at least, just in case you can’t unlock your door.” You can hear the teasing in his voice and you roll your eyes at his poking.

“I’m sure I will be just fine, thank you very much,” you shoot back, taking careful steps up your sidewalk. Josh doesn’t say anything but you can hear his own gentle footsteps following you until you reach your doorstep.

Your keys feel cumbersome in your hands as you fumble with the lock on the front door. Josh’s steady presence behind you makes you feel safer, even though you know intrinsically that he has a small smirk on his face as he watches you struggle.

“Shut up,” you mumble as you miss the keyhole for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I didn’t say anything,” Josh laughs.

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.” Another small chuckle is his response when you finally managed to fit your key into the lock. You stop the small cheer from escaping your throat, knowing Josh would likely tease you for that as well. Turning the key, you can barely hear the latch click unlock and you turn the doorknob. But it doesn’t budge. A small huff of annoyance escapes you.

“Damn door, sticking at the worst time,” you grumble underneath your breath, bracing your shoulder against the wood, planting your feet on the concrete patio. You turn the knob again and push with all your might against the door but if it moves at all, it’s an imperceptible amount. Another sigh escapes as you reposition your body, steeling yourself to try again.

“Oh, come on, you piece of –“ Your words fail you as the door swings open easily and you feel yourself falling. The tiniest shriek falls from your lips as you careen forward, readying yourself to crash onto your floor. But before your body hits the hardwood, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist, correcting your trajectory and lifting you over the small lip of your doorway.

The breaths were caught in your throat as you attempt to re-orient yourself to your now upright position, the adrenaline still pumping through you. You don’t quite register that someone is talking behind you until the arms still wrapped around your waist gently spin you around, bring you face-to-face with Josh.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks and you might have been caught off-guard by the amount of anxiety in his voice if your head wasn’t already a jumbled mess. You glance up into his eyes, his pupils still dilated in worry. And maybe it was the combination of alcohol, tiredness, and adrenaline that caused your next action:

You started laughing.

Small giggles at first which slowly transformed into genuine laughter. You see Josh’s expression slowly morph from concern to confusion which simply makes you laugh harder. A small smile of disbelief appears on Josh’s face, a chuckle of his own escaping at your reaction.

“Can I ask what’s so funny?” he says, shaking his head lightly.

“I almost fell opening my door,” you manage to wheeze out between giggles. Your head falls forward, gently hitting the center of his chest, your eyelids fluttering close, your hand coming to rest on his chest. You can feel the vibration of another chuckle escaping him underneath your palm.

“What am I going to do about you?” he muses. It’s not a question that requires a response, but you feel obligated to give him an answer regardless. You lift your head off his chest, the remnants of your laughter still rumbling through you as your eyes open to meet his gaze again.

The instant you do, you feel the laughter die in the back of your throat.

Josh is looking down at you, that sweet smile on his face, his eyes soft. But it’s not just the fact that he’s staring at you, the moonlight filtering through your windows dancing over his skin. It’s how he’s looking at you.

Like he used to. Like he still loved you. As if nothing had changed between the two of you. Even though you both know that everything has.

Your own eyes gaze back at him, wide and wanting as you watch his expression change, the smile slowly fading as he registers the emotions playing on your face. You can still feel his hands still on your hips, feel them flex against you, fighting against the urge to pull you in to him. The familiar scent of his cologne floods your senses every time you attempt to steady your breathing and you hate how it feels like home to you.

A quiet whimper pulls itself from the back of your throat, the noise sounded more like a wounded animal than a human. Perhaps that was an accurate description of how you felt ever since he left; a scared creature, afraid and hurt.

But now he’s here and he’s not running away. Instead, he’s holding onto you like a lifeline and you can feel the thundering of his heart beneath the palm still resting on his chest.

Your hand trails up, dancing over his shoulder and finding it’s familiar spot on the nape of his neck, fingers sliding though his hair. His eyes close and you feel his fingers once again tighten against your waist. And it is in that moment that you realize that he might be just as scared as you were.

This time, it’s you who takes the leap.

You take a small step forward, pressing your body against his and hear his breathing hitch. Your hand pulls away from his neck, tracing across his jawline before disappearing from his skin as you reach up, brushing the long hairs that have fallen into his face, a subtle reminder of how many things have changed.

But when your hand glides down, sliding from his hair and coming to cup his cheek, the past doesn’t seem to matter.

Because he leans his face into your open palm as if your touch was the sunlight after a long winter.

Lifting your other hand up to cup his opposite cheek, you gently pull his head down towards you. Your thumbs caress the soft skin across his cheekbones and you watch as Josh’s eyes open, those blue irises almost swallowed by his pupils blown wide. You notice the way his eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips and back. There was no reason to call him out on it because you know yours were doing the same.

The two of you stand there, so close, breaths intermingling. Josh’s eyes squeeze shut and feel the shuddering exhale shake through him.

“We shouldn’t.”

His hushed whisper is a gunshot in the silence of the room. You can feel his words pierce you, cut through to your marrow.

“No, we shouldn’t,” you say, your words just as unsteady as his.

That was the truth. Both of you knew it. And yet, neither of you move. Trapped in the liminal space between the dream of what could’ve been and the reality of what truly was.

You watch as Josh’s eyes open once again, locking with yours and you can’t stop the pang in your heart when you see the pain lingering there. The ache of realization that you were partially responsible for its presence. He leans in and your eyes flutter close in response to his movements.

The whisper of his lips presses into the crown of your head. They linger there for a moment, still holding you until you feel him pull away; your hands falling from his face, his hands falling from you.

You want to reach out, to hold onto him and hold on to this moment. But you don’t. Instead, you stay there, your eyes closed, arms dangling limply at your side because as much as you want him to stay, you don’t want to see him leave. You don’t want to watch as his back disappears behind a closed door.

It isn’t until you hear the sound of a latch clicking into place do you open your eyes.

And come face to face with an empty room.

*~*~*~*

The shifting sunlight filtering through your bedroom window was a glaring reminder that the day was slipping away from you. And with every hour that passed, your regret grew.

Or, perhaps, regret wasn’t the correct word.

You knew last night when you left the bar that you would regret the amount of alcohol you drank, knowing it would cause an ache in your skull. But what you didn’t plan on was waking up with an ache in your chest that was twice as large, twice as painful.

And the guilt? The shame? The – well, frankly, the bullshit that brought it on was a hurdle that you couldn’t quite figure out how to overcome.

Did you regret it? You weren’t sure. There was regret there, when you looked back over every moment of last night. But you didn’t know if you regretted the action or the outcome; letting him close or letting him go.

A humorless chuckle falls from your lips at the thought. If that didn’t sum up every fucking feeling that had thrummed through you ever since the night three years ago when you drove away from his house for what you thought would be the last time. And every feeling that appeared the moment you laid eyes on him again.

You picked up your cell phone from its place in the bedsheets next to you, turning it and lighting up the screen.

No messages. No word from Josh.

Was he feeling the same way, restless in his own bed? Did he feel the same things that you had felt last night, bathed in moonlight?

Did he actually want you the way you wanted him?

A heavy sigh pushes from your chest as your head spins with all the words left unsaid. Until, finally, something settles.

A small memory surfaces, a moment in your history that you never like to have cross your mind. The night of the breakup, standing in Josh’s garage as he tells you it’s over.

‘Our love lacks connection.’

You remembered that line he fed you, how it lingered even after the initial pain vanished. In the moment, you were confused by his words. How could your love lack connection when you two spent every moment fighting for a minute of time together?

Now you realize that wasn’t the connection he meant, that you both needed. You wanted to be together, yes. But it was more of an entanglement rather than a true connection. Both of you were so unsure of the future, of what each of you truly wanted. But you loved the idea of being together, staying wrapped up in each other, too much that you ignored the reality. Until that reality became too tough to ignore.

And now, after three years, did you know what you wanted?

Yes.

You wanted him.

The conviction of your thoughts slightly startles you. But instead of taking a step away from that uncomfortableness, you lean into the feeling, using it as fuel to influence your next actions. A steadying breath falls from you as you unlock your phone, pull up the number that had found it’s old home in your contacts a few short months ago.

Can I come over? Message sent Saturday, June 18th at 8:18pm

The message is fired off before you can give yourself a moment to overthink it, analyze every single letter and syllable. You wait, watch the continually setting sun dip below the horizon, before you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

Sure. Out on the dock. Message received on Saturday, June 18th at 8:24pm

You force yourself not to dissect his reply. There were things you both needed to say. Things that simply could not be relayed over characters on a screen.

Instead, you lift yourself up off your bed, only bothering to brush your hair once before grabbing your keys.

The drive to Josh’s house feels like it takes an eternity and still, you are pulling up to his house all too soon. Slipping out of your car, you make your way to the backyard, silently pushing open the gate. You spy Josh sitting at the edge of the dock, propped up on his arms, his legs dangling over the edge, rippling the water. Slowly, you make your way towards the lake edge, the sound of crickets and frogs the only accompaniment to your gentle footsteps rustling through the grass.

The wood of the dock is warm beneath your bare feet, the lingering sun trapped within it. It calms you somewhat as you wander closer to Josh and closer to the conversation that you knew would change everything.

Finally, you reach the edge, sitting down next to him. You pull one of your knees up towards your chest, the other leg slipping into the cool lake water, the chill sending a welcome shock through your system. A reminder that this moment was real. And necessary.

If Josh heard you coming, he gave no acknowledgement. And even now, when you were close enough to watch each other breathe, he still doesn’t react. Just continues to stare out over the water of the lake, the lilac sky. Until, finally, he breaks the silence.

“You drove here without shoes on,” he muses.

“I needed to talk to you,” is your only reply, but an honest one at that.

“Okay.”

That’s all he gives you, a single word. But you don’t blame him. Even you didn’t know exactly where to start. But you decide that maybe the best place to start… was at the beginning.

“Remember what you said to me, that night in April? When we saw each other again? How you said that you missed us?” You pause, waiting for some kind of response from Josh.

“I remember,” Josh replies in the gentlest of voices.

“I guess, I’m just wondering…” You fumble over your words, trying to string your thoughts together. Josh hears your hesitation and he directs his gaze over to you. In the fading light, you can see those gentle blue eyes cutting through you in the softest way.

“Do you still miss us? Like that?”

The question crawls from your mouth almost unwillingly, once again wanting to hide from the potential pain that it could bring. But you needed to say it. And needed to hear it from his lips.

You watch the question wash over Josh, watch as it registers in his eyes. He turns away from you, looking back at the forest lining the edge of the water.

“Why are you asking me this?” His voice dances over the still water, delicate as dragonfly wings.

“I thought that it might be obvious. Considering last night,” you mumble into the skin pulled taut over your knee. Josh sits up, turning his entire body to face you, the quiet sloshing of the lake highlighting his movements.

“I can’t read your mind,” Josh says. “I never could. Not last night, not the month before that, and not three years ago. If I could then… maybe things could’ve been different.”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your voice just as fragile as his.

“Last night… it just seemed like…”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe you still wanted me.”

His words linger, hanging over the two of you. The silence that stretches between you seems as unnavigable as the ocean, forcing the distance to extend. Unless you reach out to him. A lifeline in the waves. A lantern in the dark.

“I do. Want you.” You let your confession sit, let Josh hear it, understand it, process it, before you continue. “And I suppose I’m asking you if you miss us because last night, I felt like maybe you still wanted me too.”

Your focus turns back to Josh, your eyes never leaving his face. You are captivated by every subtle shift in his expression; perhaps preparing yourself for the worse, maybe hoping for the best. Readying yourself for whatever words he uttered.

Always trying to beat him to the punch.

But when those indigo eyes connect with yours, the barely perceptible upward curve tugging at his lips, you can’t stop your traitorous heart from leaping.

“I do.”

You don’t have to ask him to what was he responding. I do want you. I do miss us, like that. It didn’t really matter anyway.

The shy smile creeps over your features, one that Josh responds to with a smile of his own. The tension between you vanishes, the choppy waves of the ocean receding until they were as soft as the ripples of the lake caressing your skin.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Josh asks, his hand moving to run through his hair, a nervous tick you were all too familiar with. You lift your chin off of your knee, turning and opening yourself up to him before nodding. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? That you felt that way?”

You sigh, breaking his gaze as you comb through your thoughts, trying to find the exact reason why you kept your feelings a secret from him, hidden in the dark until they were forced into the light.

“There were so many moments when I wanted to tell you,” you begin, remembering all those moments when your memories hit you and made you ache. “But I spent so much time denying it, trying to leave those feelings in the past where I thought they belonged. Because I thought it was better that way. And because the friendship that we had rebuilt was too good to risk.”

You pause, gathering your fears and anxieties and sorting them into the words your heart had been screaming since the moment you laid eyes on him that April night.

“Part of me missed you too much to lose you again,” you say, glancing back at him. Another small smile dances on Josh’s face, giving you the courage to continue. “I don’t want to swallow my words anymore. I miss you. I miss us. And I want that back. But only if you want that too.”

Josh doesn’t respond, letting another silence cover the two of you. It is a stillness, a quiet that was both filled with possibilities and yet comfortable in its nothingness.

Josh reaches out to you, his palm open and empty. You feel as his knuckles graze over the skin of your leg as his hand stretches out towards your own, settled in your lap. He coaxes your hand into his, fingers intertwining.

You could say that there was a surge of electricity, or butterflies, or sparks, or any other cliché associated with love when your hand settled in his. But that wasn’t the case.

Instead, the feeling that came over you was a serenity, a calm.

His hand clasped in yours felt like coming home.

*~*~*~*

SUMMER

You were going on a date.

Every time that sentence raced through your head, it still sent a small thrill down your spine. You were going on a date. With Josh. Something you had done a hundred times before. Something you hadn’t done in three years.

The dichotomy still fought against each other if you thought too hard about it. Dating Josh. It was everything: new yet familiar, nerve-wracking but casual, scary yet comfortable. You tried your hardest not to let the conflict consume you but as the hours passed, it was clear that ignoring it wasn’t as easy as you wanted it to be.

You were nervous. The clothes scattered around your bedroom floor and the hole you were threatening to wear into the wooden floors of your foyer were evidence of that.

Whatever the tangled mess of feelings you had swirling around in your skull were, it had you changing your outfit at least 20 times. It had you triple checking your text messages from Josh, just to confirm when he said he would pick you up for probably the hundredth time. It had you pacing back and forth, glancing out the window at the sound of every car that drove down your street.

Finally, when you pulled back the soft gauzy curtains from your front window, you see Josh’s familiar red pickup truck idling up to rest in front of your driveway. You quickly grab your keys, shoving them into your purse before bounding out the door and down the sidewalk, still unsure of the exact emotion that was driving your energy.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly as you swing open the door, climbing up into the comfortable passenger seat, and quickly buckling your seatbelt before glancing over at Josh. The anxiety gnawing in your chest relaxes as you see his smile.

“Hi to you too. Are you ready for this?”

“I don’t know. What am I supposed to be ready for?”

“The best first date of your life.”

“Does this really count as our first date? Considering…” you trail off, not sure if bringing up the past was the best idea at the beginning of something new. But Josh doesn’t balk at your words. Instead, he shoots you that easy-going smile, the one that always made you feel safe.

“I guess it all depends,” he shrugs, pulling off the parking brake before rolling down your street.

“On?”

“Whether you like this one better than the other.”

You laugh, once again thankful for his light-hearted attitude easing your concerns.

“Those are bold words Joshua,” you tease, curling up in your seat as the car picks up speed. “I expect to be wooed.”

“Wooing is my middle name,” he laughs.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Another chuckle falls from Josh’s lips and you relax into the twilight, turning to watch the neighborhood pass you by. Josh had the windows rolled down, letting the summer air create a comfortable breeze that rushed through the car, ruffling your hair. You lean back into the passenger seat, observing the soft glow of the skyline before glancing back at Josh.

Maybe you were over-thinking everything. Because he was there, cool and calm in the driver’s seat, the wind fluttering his hair ever so softly, constantly making him run his hands through the chocolate strands, absentmindedly making you want him even more.

Josh notices your staring, his eyes darting back to you with a grin. You smile back and for the first time, the heat doesn’t rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. It was as if that wall that had existed between the two of you had come crumbling down ever since that night on the dock.

Another quick glance out of the window, you see the gentle lights of the city sparkling in the early night.

“Downtown, huh?” you ask, glancing back towards Josh. “Where are we going?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Josh replies with a sly smirk, right before he easily slides his truck up next to the sidewalk. Your head quickly spins around to look out the window and the smile that was on your face only grew wider when you saw the blue awnings and the multicolored Adirondack chairs sitting outside the small ice cream shop.

There a laugh and even a small reminiscing sigh as you watch the groups of friends and family, hanging out. The memories grow bigger when you even spy some kids wearing Eagles hockey jerseys.

“God, I remember this place. Do you remember that time we came here after you lost one of your baby teeth on the ice?”

“Yes!” Josh laughs, hopping out of the truck and coming up to your side, politely extending a hand to help you down from the cab. “I think my parents were mortified that I insisted on coming here with blood still on my jersey.”

“It was kind of jarring but I think if you showed up with a bloody rag next to your mouth in street clothes, that would be even weirder. The hockey jersey definitely helped explain a few things,” you tease. Josh chuckles as he pulls open the door for you, the bell above the shop ringing as you walked in.

The two of you fall into place in line and you browse the familiar, barely-changed chalkboard menu. Josh comes to stand right next to you, his forearm lightly touching yours and you can feel the miniscule space between your skin. You want to take his hand in yours. But something stops you.

Perhaps the wall between the two of you hadn’t disappeared. Perhaps it was just… opaque.

Fortunately, Josh doesn’t seem to feel the same way and your heart skips a beat when his hand slides against yours, fingers slotting in between your own as the two of you waltz up to the countertop. You order your traditional two scoops of rocky road and Josh orders his, the two of you just as easily walk out of the shop, hand-in-hand. He doesn’t release your grasp until you make it back to his truck, unlatching the tailgate and the two of you hop up, sitting in the cool air, the hustle and bustle of downtown in the summer hitting your eardrums.

“Do you know what other memory I like?” Josh asks. You turn to him, spoon halfway out of your mouth, only able to respond with a small hum. He doesn’t mind; just grins at your actions and carries on with his train of thought.

“2010.”

It’s your turn to smile at him. That was all he had to say: one year and you knew exactly what he was talking about.

It was the night after the Ontario Hockey League Entry Draft. Even though you and Josh were still just friends back then, you had kept tabs on the proceedings. And you were dismayed when you learned that Josh had been passed over by every single team.

He had actually texted you, the message short and simple, asking if you could meet him at the ice cream shop. You gladly found your way there and you sat with him; just sat there and listened. Let him talk, let him sit in silence, let him rant, even let him cry.

You could confidently pinpoint that as a pivotal moment in your relationship. A moment where the idea of being something more than friends had crossed both of your minds.

“That was a nice night,” you muse, taking another bite of your dessert.

“Yes. It was.”

You glance back at him, leaning back, one arm supporting him. He looks so relaxed, so casual and easy going. That’s how he was around you and it made you feel good. You just wish that his temperament could make you feel just as at ease as him.

But this – going from friends to something more for the second time in your life – it wasn’t simple. You felt as if you were tiptoeing around intimacy with him. Wanting that closeness, that connection, that ease. But what were you supposed to do with all this baggage and fear that you carried with you from the past?

How could you possibly do this?

“You’re thinking too much.” Josh’s gentle voice pulls your from your restless contemplation. Your eyes drift up to his, the gentle shine of them reflecting back onto you.

“I thought you said you couldn’t read my mind?” you joke, trying to brush off his concern.

“I can’t. But I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re stuck in your head,” Josh explains, never looking away, confronting you with his honesty. “Talk to me. It’s just me. Same me as always.”

“That’s the problem,” you say and you see his eyebrows furrow at your words. “It’s you and it’s me. We’ve been here before. And every time I look at you and think about this and think about us now, I can’t help but think about us back then.”

“And… that’s a bad thing?”

“I… I don’t know if it is or not,” you sigh out.

“Then, just don’t think. Just do whatever feels natural. Whatever feels good. And remember: it’s me. There’s nothing you could do that would make me want you less.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even if I told you I’m going to become a Boston Bruins fan?”

“Well…” Josh extends, causing a laugh to fall from your lips, a bigger smile coming onto his. Just like that a weight was lifted up off your shoulders.

As the conversation continues, you attempt to take Josh’s advice. You try and let it go. Let go of all your fears and your ghosts, including the ones that look like him. You relax, just letting your body do what it wants. Let your heart guide you.

And when your head comes to rest against Josh’s shoulder, you feel his arm wrap around your waist and sigh contentedly.

“There she is. I missed you.”

*~*~*~*

“Ow, shit.”

You quietly curse under your breath as the flame from your matchstick hits the tips of your fingers. You flick your wrist, extinguishing the light as you raise yourself up from over the patio table. Thankfully, you see the wick of the citronella ignite and you hum happily.

Josh was going to be arriving at your house soon for a romantic dinner and you wanted things to be perfect or at least as close to perfect as possible. You re-enter your kitchen and before you know it, you hear a firm but gentle knock.

Jogging up to your front door, you swing it open, smiling when your eyes immediately land on Josh’s smiling face.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Hey gorgeous,” you respond, your compliment widening Josh’s grin. Your gaze falls down to the colorful bouquet of flowers and pitcher of sangria in his hands. Josh follows your gaze and blushes, holding out the items to you.

“Oh, these are for you.”

“Thank you so much,” you say, graciously accepting them. “I’ll put these in some water and add them to our table,” you explain, gently shaking the blooms.

“Wait, what am I doing? Let me take those back and I’ll put them in water,” Josh replies, taking the flowers from your hands.

“Okay. Thank you again. There’s a vase in the cabinet above the refrigerator,” you explain, walking back into your house, the sangria in your hands, Josh following close behind. The two of you enter the kitchen and find yourself falling into an easy rhythm: you placing the finishing touches on dinner and Josh cutting and arranging the flowers. It’s an easy silence that is only broken when Josh sees you pull dinner from the oven.

“Did you make pizza?”

“Yes I did,” you sing-song, proudly placing the pan onto the counter to cool.

“You are amazing. I feel like I could kiss you right now.”

His words still your movements for a moment, pausing as you look at him with a nervous smile on your face. He continues to prepare the flowers, still completely casual, as if he was ignorant to the words he just said. You bite your lips, trying to stop the heat from rising to your cheeks and let the words slide, finishing up your dish before leading him to the backyard.

After Josh pours your drinks and the two of you settle into your seats, the conversation begins and continues easily. It’s light and playful and even a bit flirty which makes the smile never leave your face, happy that the natural ease that defined your relationship has lasted. The breeze from the lake helps to keep the two of you cool, the flowers and candles adding a natural touch of romance. Even the soft music playing from the speaker perched on the railing helps make the evening feel like something out of a movie.

The shadows grew longer as the candles grew shorter and dinner was consumed. You and Josh were left leaning back in your seats, nursing the remainder of your sangria, relaxing and reminiscing. Suddenly, Josh pauses, his head tilting as he listens to the guitar chords now echoing through the evening.

Before you have the chance to register exactly what was happening, Josh pushes up from his seat and wanders over to you.

“Dance with me,” he asks, holding his hand to you.

“What?”

“Dance with me,” Josh repeats, locked in his position, patiently waiting for your response. You are beyond bewildered, unsure exactly where this was going and not entirely sure what his plan was.

But this was Josh. Your Josh: as soft as summer and as gentle as the setting sun.

He stands above you, his palm empty and inviting. Your head ducks down, the soft smile playing on your lips before you reach up and place your hand in his.

Josh pulls you out into the yard, the last rays of the sun painting the sky in beautiful pastel colors. Guiding you into a gentle spin underneath his arm, you feel his hand fall into place on the small of your back. You reach up and let your hand rest on his shoulder, delicate and featherlight. Josh leads your movements, the two of you swaying barefoot in the grass.

You are still somewhat hesitant, not wanting to completely fall into the warmth of the season, the warmth of him.

‘It’s just him,’ your mind tells you, repeating the words he told you on your first date. ‘Let it go.’

You lean your head against his chest and you can hear the steadfast beat of his heart. Josh pulls you closer, his arm tightening around your waist. Finally, your realize what song is playing, falling from the stereo.

When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive…

You chuckle lightly under your breath, but since you are so close to Josh, he not only hears it, but feels your body shake.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It’s our old song,” you say, a whisper of laughter coming from your lips. Josh pauses, taking a moment to listen to the lyrics and you can hear a quiet hum come from him. He holds you close, his lips falling to the crown of your head and it’s a moment before you hear him murmur into your hair.

“Maybe it can be ours again.”

*~*~*~*

Tonight, was a great night. What had started as a casual date with Josh slowly turned into one of the best nights you’ve had. He had come over after dinner and the two of you had spent your time relaxing, passing the time.

The night was filled with all the things you loved: board and card games which slowly devolved into you and him trying to sabotage each other, your competitive streaks coming out. A bowl of popcorn settled in between the two of you that you convinced Josh to load with salt and butter, persuading him that it could count towards his cheat meal.

And when the two of you had finally tired, the day catching up to you, you found yourself curled up next to him on the sofa, slotted comfortably under his arms. A movie that you had seen a thousand times was playing on your television and a light blanket is thrown over the two of you, just adding to the warmth of this moment.

It was worlds away from that day in April; the two of you staying firmly on opposite sides of the couch. And you were happy that the transition between then and now had been decently seamless.

But since the romance between you was still new, you were thankful for this night. You were still trying to find your way back to each other and this night created a peaceful break from the complexity of your lives and gave you a solitary moment where you and Josh could just… be.

You feel yourself nodding off, your head falling onto his shoulder and your eyelids fluttering close. You pull yourself deeper into his side and you can feel Josh leaning back, creating more of a recline for you to rest on.

If anyone would have asked, this was a perfect moment for you. And you never wanted to move.

You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed but soon, you feel someone lightly shaking your body, pulling you back to reality. Bleary with sleep, your eyes open and notice that the movie was over, credits rolling across the screen. You look up to see Josh smiling down at you and you couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on your lips at the sight of him, his facial features highlighted by the soft glow of the lamplight.

“Hey darling,” he whispers, his hand caressing your arm. “It’s time to get you to bed.”

You hum in agreement, slowly unfurling your body, the muscles in your legs slightly protesting as you lift yourself off the cushion. You raise your arms, stretching out your back, hoping that you can wake yourself up enough to wander to the bedroom and fall asleep underneath your sheets.

You watch as Josh folds your blanket, tossing it over back of the couch before a hand comes to rest on the small of your back, helping to guide you down the hallways, a quiet laugh echoing at your sluggish movements.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble as he swings open the bedroom door. Your protests fall on deaf ears when you flop down, face first onto your mattress and rest there for a moment before gripping the edge of your blankets and burrowing underneath the soft fabric.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, another chuckle escaping him. He wanders over to your bed, that gentle smile barely visible from the moon filtering through your windows. Leaning down with one hand resting on the mattress, your eye close as he presses his lips onto your forehead, a gentle parting kiss.

“Sleep tight,” Josh says, his departing weight making a small part of your chest ache. He turns away and you hear his soft footsteps retreating. The light from the rest of your house peeks into your bedroom as he opens the door, preparing to leave.

“Hey, Josh,” you call softly, the sound of your voice forcing him to turn around glance back at you. “You – you can stay the night. If you want to. With me.”

Your words come out staccato, your voice sticking in your throat, that fear wishing that you had swallowed your words. But you are thankful that you didn’t because in the dim light, you can see a smile appear on his face.

“Sure,” he says. “Just let me turn off your lights and I’ll be right back.”

You hum your acknowledgement, nestling into your bedding as Josh disappears behind the door. You hear him move around the house, watch as the light underneath the door slowly fades. Before you know it, Josh sneaks back into your bedroom and you lift up the sheets, a small giggle escaping you as he happily bounds over, lifting himself up onto your mattress. You awkwardly throw the blanket over his body as he gets comfortable, adjusting your pillows to his liking.

After a few moments of rearranging your bodies, finding a position that worked for both of you, you snuggled into soft sheets, the weight of Josh’s body next to you and his arm thrown over you warm and welcoming.

“Goodnight,” you mumble as you press your body closer to him.

“Goodnight, darling.”

*~*~*~*

July 1st. Canada Day. And the day of Delia’s annual barbeque at her house. It was a day that you had always looked forward to every single year and this year was no different. Except for one thing: Josh.

Not that you didn’t want him there. But because the idea of him there with your group of friends while you two were still working your way back to each other was… complicated.

Did you tell your friends that you were dating again? When they had all been there for the aftermath of your previous relationship? Did you want to give them that false hope and erase any lines that were drawn, only to potentially draw them once again if the two of you ended?

These thoughts were racing through your mind as you once again found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Josh’s truck as he drove down to Delia’s house.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Josh asks, bringing you back to reality.

“Just about… us.”

“What about us?” You sigh, tearing your eyes away from the window and adjusting your body in your seat to face him more directly.

“Do you want to tell our friends about us? That we’re dating again?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe, maybe not. I just don’t know if it would be awkward,” you explain, the entire prospect of the day starting to tire you. “Would you mind if we didn’t tell anyone? Or at least not outright? Like, we wouldn’t act any different towards each other but also maybe not be super obvious about it? If that makes any sense.”

“I got you. And… I think I’m okay with that,” Josh says, his voice remaining casual. Your eyebrows scrunch, slightly taken aback by his laissez faire attitude.

“Are you sure?”

“Babe, whatever you want, I’m cool with. I’m letting you take the lead here, promise.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly. “Let’s just keep you and I on the down low. Since this is the first time we’ll hang out with friends.”

“Sounds good,” Josh responds. You are ready to let the conversation go and prepare yourself for this party but before you can, Josh reaches out and grabs your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Although, I’m not sure I can keep my hands off of you that long.”

You laugh, your own fingers caressing the rough skin on his palms. The two of you continue the rest of the drive hand-in-hand and in comfortable silence. It isn’t long until you’re pulling up outside Delia’s front door, finding a place along the already crowded street. Josh sneakily places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before you are both slipping out of the truck and entering the party.

It's already in full swing and as you and Josh weave through the crowd, Josh very quickly gets stopped by the people who still hadn’t had a chance to see him and catch up with him. You shoot him a gentle smile before he vanishes from your sight as you continue forward, moving into the kitchen. You spy Katie leaning against the counter, a beer in her hand. She smiles as soon as she sees you, immediately pulling you into a hug as soon as you were close enough.

“Hey! How have you been? I feel like I haven’t heard from you in forever,” she exclaims.

“Katie, I texted you, like, a day ago,” you laugh, loving her tendency to overexaggerate.

“Yeah, but that’s still not enough,” she replies, playfully rolling her eyes, her body resting back onto the countertop. “How did you get here? Did you drive?”

“No, Josh gave me a ride,” you explain and she hums in acknowledgement.

“I don’t want to risk crossing a line or anything like that but I’m really glad that you guys are such close friends again.” You grin, a laugh threatening to fall from you lips at her words.

“I am too,” you reply, the smile remaining on your face. But god, if only she knew.

Eventually Katie waltzes away, giving you a chance to really take in the party around you. Friends, neighbors, everyone gathered together laughing and talking and it makes you happy. Happy to know that you have a place surrounded by people who cared about you and loved you. Happy to know that despite all the hardships that you had gone through, there was a place where you belonged.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice Josh walk up next to you until the cold glass of a beer bottle nudges your arm. You startle at the sudden chill but relax when you see him grinning down at you.

“You read my mind,” you laugh, gladly taking the bottle from his hands.

“So,” Josh begins, leaning against the counter and perusing the party along with you. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll kick your ass in cornhole,” you quickly reply, a devilish smirk appearing on your face as you walk backwards towards the backyard.

“Oh, really?” he laughs, lifting himself up as you turn and run outside giggling, Josh close on your heels.

The day passed, the sun trekking across the sky and you swore it was one of the best days you’ve had. Something about being surrounded by your friends, laughing and joking and enjoying each other’s company made a certain kind of peace settle inside you. Not to mention the fact that Josh was there.

The two of you kept up appearances, never being too flirty, always tiptoeing that line. But damn, was it difficult more difficult than you thought it would be. Every so often, you would catch his eye from across the yard and it took everything in you not to run up to him and wrap your arms around him, have him pull you close. But still, he was always there and just that knowledge that he was yours again made the smile you wore remain, even as the evening crept in.

You watch from the edge of the party as your friends laugh out on the large dock, the sun falling from the sky, bathing the entire scene in gold. The moment felt perfect: your hair still wet from when you jumped into the lake, the cold bottle of beer in your hand. It was great to be here, but there was still a gnawing guilt in your stomach at the fact that you had been lying to all of your friends the entire day.

Well, not exactly lying. But you hadn’t told them the truth either.

You sigh, wandering away from the hubbub, towards the large tree swing that you knew Delia invested in and installed when she first moved in. You loved it, swearing that every time you visited, you and her spent more time out here than any other place in her house. It was slightly secluded and had the perfect view of the lakeside. Not to mention the fact that you loved to gently rock back and forth, the feeling of the warm wood on the back of your thighs and the roughness of the rope in your palms.

“Y/N,” you hear Josh’s quiet voice behind you and you look back to see Josh walking towards you, his curls more defined from his swimming, the cotton of his shirt clinging to his still damp skin. “What are you doing back here?”

You only give a small shrug in reply, turning back to look at the horizon. You can hear his feet walking over the uneven terrain and you feel his body behind you, gripping the rope above you and gently pushing you forward. A laugh escapes you as Josh continues to move you forward, the entire scene feeling peaceful. Josh slows your momentum just enough to walk around the swing and stand in front of you, a few feet away.

“Hey, seriously, are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Just a little weird, being out there with everyone and keeping this – us – from them. Even though I was the one that decided not to tell them,” you explain, continuing your gentle rocking while looking down at the ground, your sandals messing with the dirt beneath you. The heel catches on a tree root, knocking the shoe off of your foot.

You freeze yourself at the crest of the hill, watching as Josh kneels down and picks up your shoe from the ground. He turns the shoe in his hands a few times as if he’s contemplating something.

“Do you want to tell them?” Your eyes find his, the gentle question flickering in your pupils from his words.

“What, like right now?”

“If you want,” he replies, his voice still casual, once again letting you make the final decision.

“Nah, that seems a little weird,” you laugh, trying to mimic his light-hearted personality. “Besides, how would we do that? Just walk up and say ‘hey guys, we’re dating’?”

“Are looking for something grander?” he jokes, his grin obvious even in the dying light.

“What did you have in mind,” your teasing voice matching your cheeky eyebrow raise.

“How about a kiss?”

Your heart skips a small beat at his words, a sharp tilt of your head in question. He grins at you, slowly lowering himself onto one knee, his shoe still in your hands. He raises an eyebrow as a dare, a challenge. One that, after a moment, you gladly accept.

You gently let yourself swing forward towards him, his hand lifting to stop your movement. A giggle falls from you as Josh delicately slips the sandal onto your foot as he keeps the swing steady, keeping you perched above him. Your laughter falters as you feel his hand trail up the back of your bare leg, light and delicate before coming to rest over your knee, the warmth of his palm outstretched over your skin causing a small tremor to rush through you.

Your breathing changes when he finally looks up at you, his eyes bright and you impulsively bite your lips in anticipation. It feels as if time in moving in slow motion as you watch his body stretch up, his face moving closer to yours until your lips finally connect.

The kiss is featherlight, almost hesitant at first. Quick and then gone again as the two of you pull away, eyes connecting once more. There is a pause as you evaluate each other, waiting. For what, you aren’t sure. But in what feels like less than a minute, something clicks.

Neither of you know who makes the first move but it doesn’t seem to matter because the two of reach out, desperate as you pull the other closer: your hands tangling in his hair and his grasping at your waist. Your eyes close not wanting to open them again and discover that this was all some sick fantasy, fueled by alcohol and sunshine.

But when you feel the gentle curve of his smile against you, it isn’t a dream.

No dream could feel as good as this one.

Even with the sound of fireworks and cheers echoing across the lake from the party still happening mere feet away from you.

*~*~*~*

“So, where the hell are we going again?” you laugh, turning your head to look over at Josh as he continues to drive you outside of town, the shimmering building lights disappearing faster and faster behind you.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he laughs, not even looking over at you.

“And I told you, I don’t like that answer. It’s late at night, you’re driving me out into what seems like the middle of nowhere. I mean, this feels like it should be at the beginning of a horror movie,” you joke and you’re happy when you hear another chuckle come from Josh.

“I promise I’m not going to take you out into the woods to axe murder you.”

“That’s exactly what an axe murderer would say.”

The two of you laugh before falling into silence as Josh continues to drive you down winding roads, bringing you further and further into uncharted territory. You glance around, trying to figure out exactly what his plan was. But he was, quite literally, taking you to the middle of nowhere.

Finally, he turns into a large flat area and parks his truck squarely in the center. You look at him, the question still bouncing around in your eyes.

“Wait here,” he says, hopping out of the truck and you watch as he grabs a bag from the backseat, circling around to the back. You try to peer through the small window behind you to see what he is doing. Unfortunately, the only thing you can register is flickering of lights and the feeling of Josh hopping in and out of the bed of the truck. Finally, Josh appears next to your door, opening it for you and helping you out.

“Okay, are you ready?” he asks taking your hand in his. You are still hesitant but you give him a nod and finally, he leads you towards the back of the truck. You walk over the packed down dirt until you finally reach the open tailgate. And there is no stopping the surprised gasp that escapes you when you see what he prepared.

The bed of the truck is filled with what seems like every pillow and blanket that Josh could find, small camping lanterns in each corner, creating a beautiful comfortable oasis. You look over to him, your eyes wide with disbelief and he just smiles down at you. He holds out a hand, helping you hop up into the back of the truck and you laugh as you climb across the blankets, rolling over onto your back in contentment.

Josh climbs up next to you and you stare at the sky.

“Oh, look at the moon. This is beautiful,” you sigh, turning your head to look at him.

“Actually, the moon is about to disappear,” he says, smiling when he watches the flash of confusion cross your face. “There’s a lunar eclipse tonight and I thought we could lay back and watch the stars.”

“That’s – that sound perfect!” Josh smiles at your excitement and you lean back, reclining against the pillows. “When is it supposed to start?”

“In about…” Josh begins, pulling out his phone. “Oh, in about 10 minutes.”

You watch as Josh crawls around, quickly switching off the lanterns, plunging the two of you into darkness. You can’t even imagine how many more stars you could possibly see. Already being out here with such little light pollution has made more stars show up in the sky than you even existed.

But as you watch the moon slowly disappear, hidden from the sun’s light by the earth’s shadow, it seems as if the sky explodes. So many colors, so many stars, the entire sky alight with the glitter of the universe. You swear you can see entire galaxies.

You lay back, your eyes darting around the sky, the comforting presence of Josh next to you, his hand intertwined with yours.

“Do you like it?” Josh asks, his head turning to look at you, his soft curls flowing across the pillow. You gasp, your eyes still bouncing around in an attempt trying to take everything in.

“This is… probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” you confess, finally pulling your eyes away from the stars in the sky and connecting with the stars in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says.

“No, seriously, thank you,” you emphasize, the smile wide. Josh doesn’t reply and you take the opportunity to lean in, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

Josh wastes absolutely no time, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. You let him, happily wrapping your arms around him, one of your hands tangling into his hair. The kisses get more and more passionate, desperate, handsy. There is a small groan as he grips you tight, one of his legs slotting in between yours, guiding your body, his large frame coming to cover you.

You break the kiss, taking a few moments to catch your breath, Josh doing the same above you. Realizing exactly where you were, a memory comes bounding back into your mind and you can’t stop the giggle that falls from your lips. You can see the outline of Josh’s head tilt in confusion.

“This is a far cry from the backseat of your old car,” you explain and you can feel the chuckle rumble through him as he recalls the same memory. There wasn’t a whole lot of privacy when you two were teenagers, especially when Josh’s visits became few in between. Oftentimes, the back of his car was one of the only places where the two of you could be alone.

“A very far cry,” he replies, ducking down to kiss you once more. You let him kiss you more, his hands still wandering up and down your body. You can feel his hands dip underneath the cotton of your t-shirt and you smile against his lips, hips rolling up into his. Josh groans against your lips, another chuckle rumbling from him. The two of you break away from each other once more, your fingers playing with his hair.

“Are you trying to remind me of another moment in the back of a car?” he laughs. You also laugh, shaking your head slightly as you remember that night.

“Remind me again why we did that? The back of a fucking rental car?”

“It was the only option we had!” he gently exclaims. He was entirely correct: it was the same night as your high school graduation, the same night you and he went to the bar, the night he referenced the first night the two of you reconnected. He had flown in from Ohio for the summer and had to get a rental car. And because he was staying at his parents’ house and you were still at yours, there was no expectation of privacy. So, you made due with what you had: a rental car and an empty parking lot.

“Well,” you laugh, sighing against the comfortable bedding beneath you, “this is much better than that.”

“Definitely.” Josh presses a quick kiss to your lips. “And I think I know a way it can be even better…” he slowly says, kissing you again, his lips moving down to your neck and you sigh at the feeling.

“Is that a challenge Joshua?” you hum, breathless, your words falling softly. He lifts his head from your neck, hovering over you once more.

“More like a promise,” he replies, cupping a hand behind your head and kissing you deeply, with so much passion and intent.

The night passes with you and Josh wrapped up in each other, losing track of time. It’s a mess of stripping off items of clothing, never wanting to break your embrace. It’s lips and hands and heights of pleasure as your bodies intertwine, gasps and moans echoing in the night. Nothing but the stars as your witness.

*~*~*~*

It wasn’t supposed to rain.

The forecast clearly stated that the chance of rain was almost 0%. Perhaps 15% at the most.

Yet here you were, walking on the darkened sidewalk, the downpour soaking through your clothes and down to your skin.

Josh had invited you over to his house, just to spend some time together, just you and him while his parents were away on vacation. And you – foolishly, in hindsight – decided to walk over to his place because it was a beautiful day and you wanted the exercise.

But as you began your trek, the sky grew overcast and before you knew it, the previously miniscule droplets of rain on your skin turned into a deluge, drenching you through and through.

It wasn’t supposed to rain.

Finally, you see Josh’s house standing in front of you, a welcomed escape from the rain. You have to stop yourself from rushing through the waterlogged grass, drowning your canvas shoes even more. Instead, you take measured steps up his driveway, finally relaxing the moment you are under the cover of the front porch. Reaching out, you gently knock on the door, hoping that Josh can hear you above the noise of the rain and thunder.

He does and you breathe a small sigh of relief as you watch the heavy wood swing open, Josh’s bewildered face greeting you when he sees you standing there, shaking from the cold water falling from your hair and skin.

“Holy shit, what happened?” he asks, quickly pulling you inside.

“It wasn’t supposed to rain,” you meekly say, repeating the thought that had been echoing in your mind ever since the first drop hit your skin.

“Okay, wait there,” Josh says quickly, sprinting from the room and reappearing with a dish towel from the kitchen. “Here; for your hair.”

You mumble your thank you, taking the soft cotton from him and run it through your hair. Unfortunately, the fabric quickly becomes sodden and useless and you… aren’t any drier.

“Hey, Josh?” you whisper, shy and embarrassed at your current state.

“Yeah babe?”

“Could I – I mean, is it alright if I just take a shower?” you sheepishly ask, glancing up at him. “This,” you continue, gently shaking the kitchen towel, “is a lost cause.”

A small chuckle falls from Josh’s lips and he shakes his head in agreement. He waits for you to kick off your shoes before holding out his hand for you to take, leading you up the stairs and through the halls to the guest bathroom.

And while he pulls you along, you can’t help but take in your surroundings, still oddly familiar after all this time. It still smells the same; a comforting aroma of rosemary and leather. The walls are that same soft brown and you can see the pictures lining the hallways. And it makes you smile when you realize that most of them are of Josh.

Some you remember, like the picture of baby Josh at his first hockey game, the picture of him on the ice at his first junior ice hockey Eagles game, the picture of him in his London Knights jersey, or the picture of him donning a Columbus Blue Jackets sweater at the 2012 NHL Draft.

But there are others: Josh in picture frames in a Montreal jersey, Josh holding a puck noting his 100th NHL goal, Josh standing in Bell Centre with his team next to the Clarence S. Campbell Bowl.

The sight of those makes something pang in your chest. An ache that you had felt in the months after the two of you ended. An ache that appeared every time anyone mentioned his name to you. The same ache that you had felt in your chest when you woke up from the dream of him the very first night that you saw him again.

An acute exquisite longing. A desire to be with him. An indescribable feeling.

But now, as he guides you through the hallways, passing the pictures of him hanging on the walls, you thought that you could maybe put it into words.

Josh pulls you into the bathroom and you scoot around him, sitting on the toilet lid as he pulls the shower curtain back slightly. You can hear him talking and you know you should be listening but you can’t seem to bring yourself to.

“So, you have to like push on the knob while turning to make it turn on and off. Oh, and when my dad tried to fix it, he somehow flipped the temperature so now hot is cold and cold is hot so remember that but if you need any help just let me…”

Josh trails off when he notices your gaze directed at the tile floor, your mind miles away from him. He walks over, kneeling down in front of you, his hands landing on your bare knees.

“Hey,” he says softly, calling your attention to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong I just…” you trail off, shaking your head in defeat. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid,” Josh replies, his voice wrapping around you. “Please tell me. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

You huff out a small laugh, shaking your head once more. Still unsure. But there’s Josh, the same place he’s always been; right with you, patiently waiting for you, making sure you know that it’s safe. Safe to fall.

“I missed this,” you whisper.

“Missed what?”

“This house. These memories. You.” You watch as Josh’s eyes sparkle at your words, his lips turning up into a gentle curve. Another sigh falls from your chest as you gather all the strength you can to push out the words that you had been too scared to say.

“I love you, Josh. And maybe that’s silly to say after all this time, after everything we’ve been through. But I do. I really do. And being with you these past few months have made me remember how much I missed you and how much I really do love you. And I do. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”

There is a soft silence as your words hang in the air between the two of you. You hesitate, that fear sneaking into your heart again, worrying that you’ve said too much. But when you see the grin that breaks out onto Josh’s face, the skittering of your heart ceases. And when he leans in and captures your lips in a tender kiss, you swear you can feel the same love he has for you.

He breaks away, letting you rest your forehead against his for a moment before you are the one leaning in, kissing him once again.

The two of you stay like that for a few seconds, the sound of the rain and the shower mixing together, creating a cocoon of white noise, blocking out the world until it’s just you and him.

Silently, you lift your arms, looking at him with a small wicked smile on your lips. Josh chuckles as he understands your unsaid request, his hands grazing over your thighs before gripping the hem of your tank top, peeling it from your body as he stands up. He throws the material to the side but keeps his arms in the air, repeating your previous actions and you return the favor, hands sneaking under his shirt and pushing it upwards, his skin warm beneath your palms.

When you lift yourself up and pull the material away from him, Josh reconnects your lips, hand falling to brush over your hair before his arms wrap around you. You feel his fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra and you let it fall from your body before his hands trail down to your waistband.

Josh’s fingers dance over your skin and you can’t help but shiver at his delicate movements as his hands sneak between your two bodies, working on the button and zipper of your shorts. Your hands move similarly, slipping underneath the edge of his sweatpants. The two of you undress, bodies close, kisses rarely ceasing, until you both are standing bare.

You take Josh’s hand, leading him behind the patterned shower curtain, your shoulders relaxing as the warm water hits your chilled skin. Josh follows close behind, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you once more, the cascade falling around you.

It could’ve turned sexual, easily. But it never does. The two of you just wash each other’s hair and bodies, feeling muscles move beneath hands, massaging scalps filled with suds, only occasionally losing focus, lost in kisses and the feeling of being so close to one another once again.

Afterwards, the two of you curl up in bed together, tangled in sheets, you clad in one of his old shirts and sweatpants, both of your hair still damp, smelling like the apples and ginger of his body wash. And before you drift off to sleep, you hear his gentle whisper, lips against the crown of your head.

“You’re my best friend.”

You wake up surrounded by soft blue sheets, the morning sunlight peeking through blinds. Stretching out in bed, you reach over towards the other side, feeling for the strong body of Josh. Instead, you are met with an empty space.

Raising yourself up, you look around. You are still in his bedroom, his shirt still clinging to your frame. But Josh is nowhere to be found.

You swing your legs over the edge of the mattress, padding over the soft carpet and creeping out into the hallway. You take some time to pause and examine the pictures lining the wall, once again smiling at the moments you remember and trying not to feel sad at all the moments you missed. Until you hear a clattering coming from somewhere downstairs, drawing your attention away.

You descend the stairs and turn the corner to see Josh bustling around the kitchen. A smile tugs at your lips as you lean against the wall, content to just watch him for a moment. It takes him a minute before he notices your presence and shoots a large grin in your direction.

“Good morning,” he says as you wander further into the kitchen.

“Good morning to you. What are you up to?”

“Just making breakfast. I have some grapes in that bowl there, eggs are on the stove, gonna make some toast, and your coffee is sitting on the table. Just how you like it.”

You smile, settling down and popping a few grapes into your mouth as you continue to watch Josh move about the kitchen. He’s concentrated, focused on the food in front of him and running back and forth between the stovetop and the toaster. And you quietly giggle at his franticness, leaning back in your seat.

Lifting the warm mug up to your lips, you inhale the smell of homemade coffee before taking a small sip. And grimace when the bitterness hits your tongue.

You pull away, looking down into the brown liquid, realizing that Josh forgot to add sugar. Two spoonful’s, same as always. The exact way that you took your coffee ever since you started drinking coffee back in high school.

Josh knew that. He had made a thousand cups for you before. And he was confident this morning. But he forgot. Why did he forget now?

You are about to call out to him, tell him but something stops you. The harsh taste of coffee lingering on your tongue causes a similar stinging feeling to course through you, one that you had become all too familiar with.

Fear.

It crawls in and forces you to comb through your memories of these past few months, of every date, of last night. You told him you loved him. That you never stopped loving him.

And he never said it back.

You thought he felt the same way, based solely on the way he held you, the way he kissed you. But perhaps you were lying to yourself, trying so hard to get back the thing that you missed so much that you became blind to how he really feels.

And now, watching as he moves around the kitchen, casual and easy-going, the way he had been, the way that he always had been ever since the two of you started dating again, it scared you.

The acrid smell of burnt toast hits your nostrils, mixing with the sour taste of coffee and the unpleasant thoughts swirling around in your head.

He told you he missed you.

But did he miss you the same way you missed him?

*~*~*~*

AUTUMN

The first cool breath of autumn came blowing in, faster than expected.

And the fear came with it.

The same fear that first crept into your heart that early morning late July had grown, twisting its dark tendrils around every part of the relationship that you and Josh shared, staining everything with doubt and mistrust. Whispering a thought that you didn’t want to believe with such conviction that you felt it had to be true:

This was going to end. And you would be the one left to pick up the pieces once again.

That fear haunted you; it walked with you everywhere you went, influenced every decision you made. And it took its toll.

There was a tension between you and Josh now. It felt like the tension at the beginning, in spring. However, it had been timid back then, like a scared creature pushed into a corner that had to slowly learn to love again. Now, it was ominous, a predator lurking in the shadows simply biding time, waiting to tear you apart.

Every night when you laid in Josh’s arms, you swore you could hear it breathing underneath the bed. You clung to Josh, worried about letting him go. And Josh always responded by holding you tighter, trying to soothe you to sleep.

He could feel it too. That anxiety. The change that had slowly washed over the two of you.

Except, Josh didn’t know where it had come from and why it had appeared.

Dinner at your place. A table set for two. And Josh kept glancing up at you as you sip your wine, absentmindedly push the food around your plate. The expanse of wood between the two of you feeling like an ocean and the silence has grown heavier and heavier as the weeks have passed.

You hear Josh clear his throat gently, forcing you to look up from the abstract red swirls of sauce on the white porcelain.

“Hey, Taylor and Austin are throwing a party in a few days. They say it’s for me, before I go back to Montreal but I hate how that sounds. A party for me? Seems pretentious, right?”

You don’t have a reply, only because you felt your stomach drop at the cruel reminder that he was leaving. More evidence towards the truth of this ending.

Something breaks you out of your wide-eyed worry to see Josh looking at you, his brows slightly furrowed but patiently waiting for a response. You just give him a non-committal hum, a sign that you were listening even though that was further from the truth than anything.

“Anyway,” Josh continues, still glancing at you and you can see the slight concern on his face. “I was thinking maybe, at the party, we could tell everyone about us. That we’re dating. I mean, it’s been a few months and we’re pretty solid, right? I think we can make it official.”

Your mind reels. He wanted to make things official? He thought your relationship was solid? Even though he was leaving and you two hadn’t talked about it and he still hadn’t said he loves you? You were spiraling. The thoughts cascaded in your brain, screaming, mixing with the fear and anxiety and all the rest of it. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe.

And over all the static in your brain, you barely heard the metallic clatter of your fork falling from your hand, hitting your plate. You startle, snapped back to reality, your eyes connecting to Josh, the worry clear on his face. And you know how you must look: wide-eyed and mouth agape.

Quickly, you gather yourself, swallowing and blinking a few times to remove the ‘deer in headlights look’ from your eyes. You break away from his gaze, looking back down, picking up your fork again and placing it in the center.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmur, crumbling up the paper napkin next to you and throwing it onto the plate as well, moving just for the sake of moving.

“Why not?”

You shrug, picking up your wine glass, finishing it off before lifting yourself up from your seat, collecting your dishware and wandering into the kitchen. The gentle clatter you cleaning off your plate, placing it in the sink is the only soundtrack to your movements. For a moment, it’s peaceful: a nice reprieve. But without looking, you knew when Josh walked in. Because the tension appeared again.

You ignore him, concentrating on the task in front of you, rinsing your plate before pulling open the dishwasher.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Josh asks from the other side of the room, not daring to move closer to you.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” you say, trying to keep your tone even as you turn your focus onto your wine glass, repeating your earlier movements.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay, fine, you don’t believe me. That doesn’t change the fact that nothing is wrong,” you reply, your tone getting sharper because you just want him to leave you alone. To stop poking and prodding you.

“Something is. You can tell me it’s not but I’ve noticed it.”

“Josh, just drop it, okay?” you huff, closing the dishwasher with a little more force than necessary.

“No, I’m not going to drop it,” Josh replies, the frustration creeping into his voice as well, as he stalks across the kitchen towards you. “You’re pulling away from me. And I have no fucking idea why.”

“I’m not fucking pulling away from you,” you scoff, turning away from him. “God, you’re being paranoid.”

“I’m being paranoid?”

“Yes, you’re being paranoid,” you say, spinning back towards him. “We’re solid, right? You’re leaving for Montreal in a few weeks and we haven’t even talked about it but no worries, we’re good. I mean, you obviously think that we’re good because you want to tell all our friends about us and make us official. So, clearly, you’re just imagining these things, okay?

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing because it’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s fine.”

“We’re fine? No, we are not. A month ago, a month ago maybe we were fine. But now? I – I don’t know what the fuck is happening. Talk to me. I just need you to fucking talk to me.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say!? There’s nothing left for me to say, I’ve said everything and I’ve done everything and you’re the one, you’re the one that hasn’t.”

“What do you mean by that? I have done everything.”

“Oh, really, you’ve done everything,” you mock.

“Yes, I have. I care about you. What more do I have to do to prove that I care about you?”

“Care about me. Care about me? That’s the whole thing, Josh. That’s the –“

Your sentence breaks off as you pace away from him, your hands coming up to tangle in your hair, your fear slowly morphing into anger.

“You say you missed us, you say that you care about me, you say that I’m your best friend. But you’ve never, ever said that you love me. You’ve never said those fucking words to me. I. Love. You. Not once. Not even after I told you –“

Your words stick in your throat, your resolve slowly crumbling, the tears that you have been willing back pushing their way to the surface.

“– after I told you that I’ve never stopped loving you. Even after all this time, even after all the bullshit we’ve been through, after you left me without so much of an explanation. I still love you. Still. You.”

The energy drains from you and your body slumps against the counter, right in front of the sink, the exact place where this argument started. You look up at him, defeated, a sickening single teardrop falling onto your cheek.

“Why can’t you say it back? Please, just… say it back.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Josh sighs, his own shoulders dropping in a similar sense of defeat.

There’s nothing to say in response to those words so you stay silent, turning back to the sink and begin to rinse of the remaining dishes from dinner. Your hands move deftly, occasionally lifting up and brushing your tears away. You can’t hear Josh but you don’t want to turn and check to see if he’s still there. After a few moments, you hear his footsteps cross the kitchen and feel his arms wrap around your waist. His body molds against yours, gentle and comforting as he presses his lips into your hair.

“I care about you. I do. And I want you to believe that I will say it. Eventually. I promise. But you have to trust me. Don’t you trust me?”

You want to believe him. You want to prove to yourself that all this wasn’t for nothing. All the pain and hurt and rekindling and trepidation and risk actually meant something. But you trusted him before. And he let you down. And there was a chance he would do it again.

“How can I?” you mutter, the lingering hurt echoing in your voice.

Silence again but this time, it cuts, sharp and definitive and you can feel Josh tense against you. He pulls away, his own energy shifting, a wall falling between the two of you and you can hear it in his voice when he speaks.

“Well, then… maybe this was a mistake. Because you can’t build a relationship without trust.”

You don’t look back at him: just continue your motions, taking that coldness from his tone and using that ice to steel your resolve.

“You’re right. You can’t. Goodnight, Josh.”

The last sound you hear is your front door closing, the click of the doorknob echoing, signaling the end.

*~*~*~*~*

You were at the party. Why were you at the party?

It was an absolutely terrible idea for you to even entertain the thought of showing up on Taylor and Austin’s doorstep. Especially when you know that he would be there.

But that was the whole thing, wasn’t it?

He was there. But to all of your friends, who had seen you two together, getting along, who had seen the new yet still easy-going friendship that you two shared…

Josh’s presence was no reason for why you wouldn’t be attending. And you didn’t have the stomach to make up some bullshit excuse. Nor did you have the heart to air your dirty laundry to all your friends on what should be a celebration.

All you had to do was get through this party. That was all. Then Josh would leave for Montreal and you both could blame your separation on distance; that easy unavoidable truth. Nothing more.

And it was working.

You had been there for hours but perhaps it only felt like hours because you were so conscious of your actions. Avoiding Josh as best as you could, but never immediately leaving a room as soon as he entered. Being civil with him whenever the two of you were included in a conversation together. It was… exhausting to say the least. But you kept reminding yourself, ‘if you get through this, it will all be over’.

You didn’t acknowledge how much it hurt every time that mantra passed through your mind.

But, regardless, this was working.

Or, at least, you thought it was working.

Until Katie’s hand wraps around your upper arm and before you can blink, she is dragging you up the stairs, pulling you into the closest guest room she can find and locking the door behind the two of you. She spins around, her eyes sharp and you are slightly taken aback by the emotion behind her movements.

“Okay, spill. What the fuck is going on between you and Josh?” she asks abruptly.

“What do you mean?”

“Something is happening. Or, something happened. I don’t know exactly, but what I do know is that you are acting weird.”

“How am I acting weird?” you ask, continuing to pretend that nothing was going on. But this was Katie you were talking to. Your closest friend. She could always see right through you.

“The way you two are barley speaking? The way you look like you want to jump out of your skin every time you hear his voice? Making up excuses as to why you can’t seem to stay in the same room?”

“I’m not doing that,” you deflect, turning away from her, focusing your attention on the décor scattered on top of the dresser. You hear a sigh from her and out of the corner of your eye, you see her move to sit on the bed before turning her attention back to you.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend. You know that you can tell me anything. I’m only asking because I’m concerned. You seemed really happy these past few months and I know it might sound weird but, it feels like Josh had something to do with that. And now… you’re not. And it’s not just you. I can see it in Josh too. I just want to know what happened.”

Your eyes turn to her, perched on the edge of the mattress. You didn’t want to admit anything, didn’t want to talk. There was a weakness inherent in confession, one that you never liked. But there she was: a friend who would go to war for you and a safe harbor for you to escape the storm in your head.

It takes a moment of silent patience before you walk over to the bed, sitting next to Katie and reach out for her hand. She takes it, rubbing her thumb against your knuckles and that singular soothing motion causes the walls to fall.

And you tell her everything.

Josh coming to your house after that first night. The moment the two of you were bathed in moonlight and almost kissed. The night on the dock when you agreed to try again and everything afterwards. Including the argument that led to where you are now.

Katie simply listens to you, letting your feelings pour out in tidal waves. And when you finally finish, she sits quietly, digesting all of your words before speaking once again.

“Do you remember what I told you a while ago? When I – well, when I set you and Josh up to meet again? That you can’t lock people out and expect to heal?”

“Kind of,” you reply.

“Maybe I should have explained it better,” she sighs, locking eyes with you and you can see the earnestness reflecting in her pupils. “When you lock people out and build these walls that you are an expert at creating, brick by brick… sure, you save yourself from getting hurt. But you also block out the world. And, it sucks to say but, life doesn’t exist behind walls. You have to take risks and chances. Is there a chance that you’ll get hurt? Yeah, absolutely. But there’s an equal chance that everything will work out. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

She pauses, letting her message sink in and you find your mind replaying the moments when you did exactly what she said: you hid, safe behind the comfort of your walls. And you remember the moments when you took the risk. That afternoon when you invited Josh back into your life. That night when you told him that you wanted him back. Katie clears her throat, bringing your attention back to her.

“You didn’t want to lose him. But guess what? You did any way.”

There it was. The truth wielded like a knife, cutting right down to the ache that you felt in your chest ever since Josh walked out of your house a few nights ago.

“If that’s what you wanted – to stop yourself from getting hurt – you should feel good right now. Do you feel good right now?”

Another pause, her question hanging in the air, waiting to be answered.

“No…” you say, your confession lingering in the stillness. Your eyes turn skyward, a sigh of frustration rushing through you as the implications of your feelings surface.

“But I don’t know what to do. What if I already fucked everything up?” Katie shoots you a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t have the answer to that. But I know who does.” It takes a moment for you to register who she is referring to and when you look back at her, you know that she can read the distress in your eyes. The only thing she offers is another smile and a gentle pat onto the back of your hands before she lifts herself up off the bed, wandering back to the door. She opens it and is about to walk out when she turns back to you.

“Talk to Josh. It might be too late. It might not. Take the risk. Take the leap. You are strong enough to survive the fall.”

*~*~*~*

You spend the rest of the evening replaying your conversation with Katie. Even after you return to the buzz of the party, your mind hums louder, pulling you away from the present, trapping you in the maze of your thoughts. You acknowledge Taylor and Austin’s invitation for you all to stay the night and ‘make yourselves at home’. Your friends follow their encouragement, stumbling off to guest beds, sunroom lounge chairs, and living room couches, the mixture of fading adrenaline and alcohol lulling them off to sleep.

But your brain does not give you a reprieve. Instead, it drones on, reverberating around your skull, keeping you awake. So, you wander; footsteps quiet as you explore the house around you, looking at pictures on the wall, books on the shelves. All while your mind spins, just like the blades of the ceiling fans hanging above your head.

It isn’t until you see the sky shift from black, to dark blue, to the hazy grey of morning does your mind settle. You’ll talk to Josh. As soon as you get the chance. Tell him the truth. And hope that will be enough.

You wander into the kitchen, naturally falling into your own morning routine, trying to find some peace in the methodology. The tile of the kitchen feels cool underneath your feet as you quietly open the cabinets, spending a few minutes of furious googling to figure out Taylor’s fancy coffee machine until the warm brown liquid pours from the spout, it’s aroma filling the air, a scent that always felt like a greeting to the rising sun, the start of a new day.

You are so focused on watching the mug fill that you almost don’t notice Josh amble around the corner, entering the kitchen. Eventually, you see movement out of the corner of your eyes and you turn your attention to him, unable to stop the smile that appears on your face at his disheveled hair.

“Hi,” you whisper, careful to not shatter the quiet morning.

“Hey,” he replies, his casual tone having an underlying caution that you can feel, the tension and hurt still dancing on the edges of both of your words. He continues to walk through the kitchen, grabbing a banana from the hanger sitting on the top of the fridge. You watch him carefully, wondering exactly how to approach him.

“So,” you begin, his attention turning to you. “I – um – I spent probably the past twenty minutes figuring out this coffee machine,” you continue, letting the humor bleed into your words, thinking this might be the best way to start; nonchalant yet still tentative. “And I don’t want to keep my newfound skills to myself. So… do you want a cup?”

A small thrill of relief rushes through you when you see Josh smile.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

You respond with a gentle nod, turning back to the machine as Josh settles down into one of the stools lining the island. You grasp the warm mug in your hands before spinning and placing it on the marble in front of Josh. He murmurs another thanks, taking a sip and humming in appreciation. You turn again, grabbing another mug from the cabinet and starting up the brew again, this time for yourself.

When the coffee fills the ceramic, you finish it off and wander back over to Josh. You settle across from him, your body leaning against the cold countertop, taking an apple from the fruit bowl sitting in the center.

Josh and you stay like that, munching on your fruit, taking quiet measured sips of your coffee. You watch him: he watches you. The silence isn’t comfortable but it isn’t unpleasant either. It’s… restrained. Both of you holding back.

Finally, you clear your throat, lifting your body up but keeping the space of the island between you, a barrier of safety to prevent your next words from sounding confrontational. Although, you still look down, avoiding his gaze.

“Um, I wanted to talk to you about… what happened. Between us,” you begin, stumbling over your words, the syllables feeling clunky in your mouth. You look up and it’s a comfort when you see Josh’s eyes locked on your frame, nothing in his body language hinting at hostility. You take another deep breath before continuing.

“Well, actually, what I really want to do is apologize.” Another glance back at Josh, his full attention turned to you, his body lifting in curiosity at your statement. “That night, I blamed you for my own fear and insecurities. And that wasn’t fair to you. And I know that’s not an excuse. There is no excuse to how I treated you. You have been nothing but kind and caring and sweet and patient with me and I still lashed out.”

“It’s just… I was scared. Scared of this ending again, scared of losing you again, scared of having to live life without you. I love you, Josh. I know I’ve said it before and I know that sometimes it might not seem like I do. But I do.”

You let your last statement and the imploring tone of your voice press at Josh, pleading for him to understand. He doesn’t respond for a minute, his head dropping down as he processes everything that you told him, his hands fidgeting around his empty mug.

“Again.” That’s the first word that falls from his lips and your forehead wrinkles in confusion. He lifts his face towards yours, connecting your eyes to his. “You keep saying that. You don’t want this to end again. Like history is determining all of our actions now. Like we’re going to end up in the same place that we did back then.”

It’s your turn for you to break his gaze, eyes falling to the countertop.

“I know.”

“You can’t keep holding onto our past like that.”

“It’s hard to do that when the past is all we have,” you murmur, the words echoing in the space between the two of you, that awful tension creeping in again.

“I’m not sure how we can fix this,” Josh confesses.

“Me either,” you whisper. The admission remains, heavy in the early morning light. You know that you could leave it at that, let this become the truth that separates you and Josh forever. But you could just as easily change that. All you needed to do was be brave.

You could be brave.

So, you reach out to him, your hand crossing the space between the two of you. And in a move that was so similar to the one he made that night on the dock behind his house months ago, you coax his hand into yours, fingers intertwining before you speak again.

“But I want to. I really want to try and fix this.”

The two of you stay there. Waiting. Until finally, Josh breaks the delicate silence.

“Then… let’s try. No promises, no guarantees. Just you and I, trying.” Those blue eyes connect with yours, the sunlight highlighting the hope that you can see shimmering his irises, a gentle smile on his lips. And you respond with a smile of your own.

“I’d like that,” you reply. Josh’s hand tightens around yours, his eyes shifting into a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

“I will try and prove to you that I am never letting you go again.”

“And I will try and not hold the past against you. I trust you.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

#summer fic exchange 2k22 #nicole writes #the movie of us #josh anderson fic #josh anderson imagine #josh anderson angst #josh anderson fluff #montreal canadiens fic #montreal canadiens imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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jimothystu · 2 years

Text

Nick Suzuki x Cole Caufield - I’m Right Here

Fandom/pairing: Montreal Canadiens; Suzufield

Word count: who tf knows I wrote this on my phone

Notes/warnings: angst. Also it’s 6:30 am and I’ve maybe slept 4 hours, so when I woke up at 5 and read the whole dozenish Suzufield fics out there, I decided it was my solemn duty to write more. Also, sorry for any mistakes or for any suckage of this writing. Like I said, I have not slept much.

Tagging: @st-lecavalier just bc I know you also adore Suzufield

After having such a good season in 2020-2021, and coming so close to winning the Stanley Cup playoffs, ending the 2021-2022 season at the bottom of the league sucked. No, it more than sucked. It was disappointing and upsetting and made Cole feel like he wasn’t good enough. His own season had started off poorly, and though he’d managed to end it on a positive personal note - his first hattie - the season still sucked.

To top it all off, he was pretty sure he was in love with his best friend, whom he wouldn’t be seeing much of over the off-season. Not that he didn’t want to see his best friend, but Cole was going back home to Wisconsin soon. Sure, they could visit one another, but it wouldn’t be the same as seeing each other nearly every day. It wouldn’t be the same as looking across the ice and seeing him there, knowing he had his back. It wouldn’t be the same as always knowing if he was ever sad, he could just go to him for comfort. It just wouldn’t be the same.

Cole leaned his head back against the back of his couch and sniffled. His tears had stopped, after crying off and on for the past day. He was tired. He didn’t get much sleep the night before, not between the intrusive thoughts telling him he wasn’t good enough and the aching in his chest upon the thought of leaving Nick.

Nick. Who could always make Cole laugh.

Nick. Whom Cole could always find on the ice, even if they weren’t trying.

Nick. Who Cole was in love with.

He didn’t know how it happened, but it had.

Cole scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled slowly. Somehow, he’d have to deal with this. He had no idea what to do, but he had to figure it out.

Nick was just starting to make dinner when a loud knock came at his front door.

His brow furrowed. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

He went to the door and opened it. “Cole?”

Cole shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” Nick opened the door wider and let Cole in. “You look like shit,” Nick said, and Cole gave him a rueful smile.

“Gee, thanks”

“I mean it. Are you sick?” Nick lifted his hand to place onto Cole’s forehead, but the shorter man ducked away.

“No,” Cole said.

Nick frowned. “Dude, what’s the matter?”

Cole shrugged and looked at his feet. He opened his mouth to say something, but clamped it shut and shook his head. “Nothing, never mind. I should go.”

Nick laughed shortly. “You just got here.”

“Sorry,” Cole muttered. He moved to go around Nick, but Nick blocked the door.

“Cole,” Nick said seriously, “what’s the matter?”

Cole chewed his lip and stuffed his hands into his sweatpants pockets. “I… don’t know.”

“Are you okay?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know,” Cole repeated.

Nick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, person, place, or thing?”

Cole’s lips twitched into almost a smile. “Person.”

“Someone on the team?” Nick asked, and Cole nodded.

“Alright,” Nick said slowly. “What about them?”

Cole’s jaw clenched. He shrugged.

Nick tried to meet Cole’s eyes. “Have you been crying?” Nick asked gently after getting a closer look at Cole’s face.

Cole nodded silently.

Nick took him by the shoulders and leaned down slightly to be at eye level. “You’re scaring me. What the hell happened? What made you cry? Do I need to beat someone up?”

Cole’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “You can’t exactly beat up yourself.”

Nick frowned. “I made you cry? Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

But Cole shook his head. “No, it isn’t… you didn’t…” he sighed. “It’s me.”

Nick blinked. “You lost me.”

Cole hesitantly met Nick’s stare. He visibly swallowed. “I just… don’t want the season to be over.”

Nick pulled Cole in for a hug. “Me neither, man.”

Cole pressed his face against Nick’s shirt.

Nick rubbed his back slowly. “So, what? You gonna miss me too much or something?” Nick teased.

Cole nodded, though, and sniffled. He mumbled something, but Nick couldn’t understand.

“What?” he asked.

Cole lifted his head and stared into Nick’s eyes. “I… I said I don’t want to leave the person I’m in love with.”

Nick’s chest tightened with emotions. His mouth opened ajar. He could see a million different emotions running through Cole’s eyes as he waited for a response.

Nick knew he had to give him one soon, or else Cole would freak out even more. So he did the only thing he could think of: kiss him.

Cole was clearly surprised, for he stood there a moment unresponsive.

Nick smiled softly, and that small action was enough to prompt Cole to kiss him back.

Nick reached a hand up and tangled his hands into Cole’s hair.

Cole pressed his body against Nick’s, and Nick took a step back to let his back hit the wall. He leaned his forehead against Cole’s, letting the kiss end, and mumbled, “You don’t have to leave me. I’m right here.”

Cole smiled widely. “Spend the off-season with me. Please.”

Nick chuckled and cupped Cole’s cheek in his hand. “I’m thinking much more than just the off-season, bud.”

Cole blushed. “Do you want to come to Wisconsin with me? Or should we go to London? Or, or stay here—“

Nick laughed again. “We’ll figure it out. Right now, just enjoy the moment.”

Cole smiled sheepishly and nodded. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Nick’s neck and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist.

Nick held him close. He leaned his face against Cole’s hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

The Canadiens may have lost, but Nick had won something far greater than the playoffs. He won Cole Caufield’s heart.

#suzufield #Suzufield fanfiction #Nick suzuki x Cole Caufield #Montreal Canadiens fanfiction #Montreal Canadiens imagine #Montreal Canadiens rpf #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #Nick suzuki fanfiction #Cole Caufield fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #Nick suzuki #Cole Caufield

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izzylovesyou2022 · 2 years

Text

REBLOG THIS IF YOU'D READ A STORY OR SERIES THAT HAS A CHARACTER WITH AUTISM IN IT

PLEASE REBLOG

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prettytoxicrevolver · 18 days

Text

Jealous of Joe | Juraj Slafkovský

wc. 1.9k

Juraj's jealous when he sees you with another certain athlete

(sorry for the bad google translate throughout)

You jog down the steps of Nationwide Arena until you're face to face with a wall of glass blocking you from the players on the ice. Your eyes roam the red and white jerseys, finding purchase when they land on the familiar number 20. You look over his figure, studying the way he skates down the ice with ease. He looks like he’s floating, stick down, looking for the puck, focused, perfect.

You and Juraj Slafkovský have been friends since the minute he was drafted by the Montreal Canadiens. As one of many social media managers, you became best friends with the whole team, finding safe spaces in Cole, Nick, Kirby, Kaiden, Monty, and most importantly, Juraj.

The first thing you ever bonded over was your mutual knowledge of the Finnish language. The two of you could converse for hours in Finnish and not even realize until another one of the boys finally gains the courage to ask about what you two have been saying. They even tried to use it to their advantage, asking if you understood what he would say in Slovak but you were no use in that department.

You try to snap yourself out of the trance you were in, looking around the rink to see what kind of media you could create before the game. You’re in the middle of thinking up a new question or tiktok challenge when you feel a presence next to you.

“They look good,” the stranger says from next to you and you don’t look over as you respond, somewhat hoping the person leaves.

“Hopefully they keep it up during the game tonight,” you respond, knowing the Hab's tendency for third period strikeouts.

“You think Caufield will score?” the boy next to you asks and you shrug.

“It’ll make my job easier if he does,” you joke and the laugh that sounds from next to you is so melodic it has curiosity leading you to turn your head.

To say you’re shocked by the man standing next to you is an understatement. After working in this league it takes a lot for you to get star struck by an athlete but you’re speechless, jaw dropped open looking at Joe Burrow standing next to you.

“Holy shit,” you blurt out and the older boy turns to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’m Joe,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your back when his hand slides perfectly into yours.

“(y/n),” you say, still not quite sure that you’re not totally dreaming. “No offense, but what are you doing here?”

His laugh has you smiling right along with him and you find yourself wanting to hear more of it.

“I’ve been meaning to come out and see a game for a while, meet the players and so on. I figured since I’m injured,” he takes the moment to lift up a carefully wrapped wrist in front of your eyes. “I would come and check it out.”

“Well if you’re expecting your fellow Ohioans to win, I apologize in advance,” you say and Joe throws his head back in laughter.

“Oh really?”

The two of you continue talking, trading jokes and reveling in each other's laughter. You were beyond enjoying the conversation with Joe and you almost forgot about the ongoing practice and job you should be doing.

Juraj certainly didn’t forget. During practice, a game, in the arena, out of the arena, no matter what Juraj always has an eye on you. The minute you stepped up to the glass during his practice his eye was on you, watching what you were doing, but more importantly, who you ended up talking to. Juraj’s furious and jealous gaze roams your figure, hating the way your head is thrown back in laughter, pink rising to your cheeks at his words, the slight, shy movements he knew all too well.

At some point his brain must have shut off because suddenly his body is barreling down the ice without a second thought. You’re mid sentence to Joe when a loud bang sounds in front of you and you both jump back in fear. You look up to see Juraj standing there, a sheepish smile on his lips but something different in his eyes. You shoot him a look that conveys the sentence “are you serious right now???” and Juraj waves awkwardly before backing off and skating away.

“Your boyfriend?” Joe asks and you jump at his voice, forgetting he was there for a moment.

“No, no,” you say, glancing at him before reverting back to following Juraj’s movements. “Just friends.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked you out then?” Joe asks and your body fully turns towards him at the question.

“I can pick you up before the game tonight? I have an empty seat next to me,” he offers and you grin.

“I’d love to.”

Juraj spends the rest of practice pissed and all the boys can tell. They’re even playing a game, seeing who can mess with him the most before he truly snaps.

Nick takes pity on him, the captain skating over to the young player. He follows Juraj’s gaze to where you are and watches as his eyes flame in anger when you smile at Joe.

“What's up?” Nick asks, vague enough that Juraj can tell him what’s actually going on or he can brush it off.

“He can fight?” Juraj asks and Nick fully turns to him in shock.

“What?”

“I’m gonna fight him if he goes out with her,” Juraj says, determination so deep in his eyes that Nick knows he’s not a force to be reckoned with.

Normally, before games you’re nervous for other reasons. Making sure you have enough content, tweets are loaded and ready to go, photos are edited and stats are ready to be posted. This time, your coworker is taking on those nerves while yours belong to the date you were about to go on.

You looked over your outfit for what feels like the millionth time and smooth out the canadiens jersey that falls over your body. You were showing up with Joe but still had Juraj’s last name on your back; the irony. Joe knocks on your hotel room door right at 7 and you let out a breath before making your way to the front door.

You were no stranger to Joe’s pregame outfits but you were shocked out how he could still look so incredibly good even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. His smile is blinding and while you know you should be swooning at the sight, you can only think about Juraj’s crooked smile, the way he looks down, not wanting anyone else to see the beauty.

You and Joe head to the arena, a short drive in his luxury car and he’s nothing but a gentleman the entire time. Your heart flutters from time to time but you’re not sure if it’s because of Joe, or because you're nervous to see Juraj.

You two take your time getting to your seats, stopping to grab drinks before heading down as the players are finishing warm ups. Juraj thinks he’s safe, that he won’t have to control a temper for the rest of the game but it all falls flat when he sees Joe with an arm slung around your shoulders in the front row.

“Leave it be,” Nick warns the younger player and he shakes his head, praying his focus turns towards the game.

The game against the blue jackets is physical, to say the least. The boys are playing like it’s a revenge tour and the game is tied for most of the time. Third period begins and Juraj is firing on all cylinders at this point. He’s finishing his checks, he’s rushing down the ice, he’s doing anything and everything to forget about you and Joe.

You watch as Juraj digs for the puck, a battle between him and one of the blue jackets players trying to gain possession of the puck. It sails down towards Nick and Juraj lets up, words clearly exchanged between him and the opposer.

“Careful before I take your girl out next,” the player sneers at Juraj and he’s officially seeing red.

You watch in slight horror as Juraj slams the player into the boards and fists go flying. The fight must last a quick 20 seconds but feels like a lifetime. You’re on your feet and pressed against the glass as Juraj gets up, a fresh cut on his cheekbone and his hair disheveled and hanging over his now dark eyes.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, watching as Juraj is escorted down the tunnel and some of the boys are casting glances in your direction.

“(y/n)?” you’re snapped out of your trance at Joe’s voice and turn to find him with worry and understanding in his gaze.

“I have to go check on him,” you say and Joe nods.

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek that explains all of his thoughts and feelings. You smile, a bit of sadness laced in the look, before parting and heading straight for the locker room.

You race down, surprisingly not getting lost as you run and you flash your access badge like your life depends on it. You finally come face to face with the locker room door and you take a deep breath before flinging it open, unable to stay away from Juraj any longer.

“Kto si, do pekla, myslí, že je? Sedí tam s ním a užíva si každú sekundu!! A ten sráč, ktorý-” Your brain flies a million miles an hour trying desperately to grasp the little Slovak language you know but to no avail.

“Juraj?” you call and the 6 foot 2 hockey player halts all movements before turning towards you.

“What are you doing here?” he grinds out, chest heaving trying to catch his breath.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“jebať ma,” he mutters angrily. “Go back to your new boyfriend.”

Juraj was torn clean in half between two sides. One desperately wanting you here, wanting you to stay and talk to him, to explain that Joe meant nothing to you. The other half of him is infuriated, feeling disrespected that you would show up now after flaunting Joe in front of him.

“What the fuck is your issue?” you snap, taking several steps till you're inches from Juraj’s face.

“Ježiš Kristus.”

That’s the last thing you hear before Juraj leans down and slams his lips against yours, the kiss lighting you end to end in a fiery passion. His hands wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your tip toes and press your chest against his padded one. Your body takes a minute to catch up and when you do, your hands tangle deep into Juraj’s damp strands pulling him close and begging him to never let go.

Unfortunately, humans need air and the two of you separate, panting heavily for a moment after. You fall back onto your heels and Juraj’s eyes search yours for a moment before speaking again.

“You’re my issue,” he says and before you can retort he shushes you. “I love you. You walked into my game with my name on your back but your hand holding his.”

Your eyes stare deep into his, your heart cracking at the idea that Juraj could ever be hurt by your actions. However, it’s filled back up when you remember him admitting that he loves you.

“Oh minun rakkauteni,” you murmur, pulling him into you again and reveling in the feeling of his lips on yours.

“It’s you baby. It always has been and it always will be,” you promise.

Juraj grins against you, the moment fleeting but lasting forever.

#prettytoxicrevolver fic #juraj slafkovsky fanfic #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky blurb #juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky fic #montreal canadiens fic #montreal canadiens x reader #montreal canadiens imagine

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itsjusthockey · 5 months

Text

Knight in Shining Armani - Juraj Slafkovsky

he's so boyfriend. Enjoy

send in requests. pls and thx

warnings: slightly suggestive?????

w.c: 1,426 (credit to gif maker) (don't steal my work)

You don’t smoke, not at all. You honestly don’t think you’ve ever even tried nicotine sober. However, in this very moment, you crave a cigarette, or something, anything, to distract you from the current hell you’re in.

You’ve always enjoyed charity galas with the team. They’re something to look forward to. They’re classy; they support a good cause, have great food, better drinks, and usually decent company. However, sometimes, at these events, you get unlucky, and tonight was one of those particular nights.

You’re seated at a lovely table with a few wives and girlfriends and directly next to a pretty blonde woman you’ve never met. She’s clad in a red dress, her lips painted to match, and she’s eyeing the room like a predator watching her prey.

You have to check yourself as you watch her a bit. You’re not one to throw judgment at someone you don’t know, but something about the way she’s watching the room sets your stomach a bit on edge.

The edge sets a bit deeper when you notice her stare lands on a familiar back, one you know all too well.

“Do you know who he is?” She suddenly asks you. “He’s insanely sexy.”

She points toward the center of the room, and you follow her stare back to your boyfriend. He’s standing tall in the center of the room, clad in an all-black ensemble that fits perfectly in all the correct places. He looks otherworldly as he smiles and throws his head back in laughter at something Arber says. He is absolutely gorgeous, and the fed woman beside you is right; he does look insanely sexy. However, you’re not particularly fond of anyone else in the world thinking that, but you

You must’ve stayed quiet for a bit too long because she raises an eyebrow and leans a bit closer to you, clearly waiting for an answer.

“That’s Juraj.” You finally say.

She hums and repeats his name softly to you, then leans in closer as if she’s going to tell you a secret.

“I came with someone else.” Her eyes dart back to your boyfriend. “But I wouldn’t mind finding myself under him at the end of the night.”

As she finishes her statement, she lets out a laugh, and you feel yourself grip your champagne glass tight. You shouldn’t be mad; you’re incredibly secure in your relationship, but that ugly feeling continues to grow.

“You don’t agree?” She asks.

You realize you’ve been silent, not offering her anything. You’re unsure how to approach this situation, but you also know you should shut it down.

“I do,” you smile toward her. “But he’s taken.”

A brief, annoyed look flashes over the women’s eyes. “By who?”

You throw on your sweetest smile and bat your lashes toward her.

“By me.”

The second that slips out of your mouth, her eyes widen in surprise, and then they shrink a bit, looking you up and down.

(Y/N).” You rip your eyes away from her hard stare and draw your attention toward a wife. “Your boy looks incredible tonight. Arbs said you picked out the suit? Gucci, was it?”

“Armani.” You state, glancing back toward your boyfriend, hoping he hears your telepathic plea to come save you.

A few of the other wives and girlfriends hum, signaling their approval of your masterful suit-picking skills, and you feel a rush of pride swell through you.

“Yes. He certainly looks dashing.” The blonde speaks up again, her eyes dragging up and down your boyfriend’s figure from behind.

You don’t think of yourself as a jealous person, but you’re not stupid. You don’t miss how she looks at the man you’re in love with. You also don’t miss the subtle lip bite in his direction and the slight glare she gives you. You resist the edge to roll your eyes. Instead, you take another sip of your drink and try to focus on any other conversation.

You’ve finally integrated yourself elsewhere when a hand gently taps your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. You turn quickly to see Juraj’s gorgeous smile and bright eyes beaming down at you.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leans down to your ear, whispering. “Can I steal you away?”

You resist the urge to throw yourself into his arms and demand he take you home. Instead, you smile and nod, excusing yourself from the table with a smile. You begin to be swept away, Juraj's hand gently on your waist, when you throw one last look toward your table. The woman you’ve come to dislike slightly is staring hard, and you give her a slight smirk. You simply can’t help yourself.

Juraj leads you away from the crowd to a small, cozy corner. He quickly traps you between his body and the wall, gently brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Are you having fun?” His eyes are genuinely curious as he asks.

“Yes.” You slightly lie. “But I’d be much happier if we were home in bed.”

He smiles a wide smile and gently brings his head down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. It’s quick, and when you meet his eyes again, you see they’re filled with nothing but love and adoration.

“Are you tired?” He searches your face. “If you’d like to go to bed, we can leave. I’ve done all the required mingling.

You move your hands up to his lapels, gently smoothing them up and down and then gently patting his firm chest.

“When I said being at home in bed,” you shift your gaze up to his eyes with your best doe-eyed stare. “I didn’t mean actually sleeping.”

You see a million emotions shift through his eyes and face, and within a second, he places his lips on yours again, this time and a little more urgently. Your lips move in sync for a few seconds before he pulls away, grabbing your chin to meet his eyes again.

“Let’s say our goodbyes.” You notice his eyes are a few shades darker. “I’m taking you home.”

He leads you away from your secluded corner, dragging you to say your goodbyes. The farewells are short and sweet, everyone oblivious to how fast Juraj pulls you around. In mere minutes, you’re in the safety of your car, and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, admiring the man beside you. It’s honestly annoying how perfect he is. Even his side profile is envious, and with the passing city lights illuminating him wonderfully, it’s taking everything in you not to jump him.

He must notice this because he drives a little faster and places his hand on your thigh. You are nearly breathless as he gently smooths your skin under his touch, and even though your thoughts are far from pure, you can’t help but let your heart swell with love.

You finally arrive at his apartment, and you run for the elevator, hoping the ride is short. It is, and when you finally make it to his apartment, you almost want to die.

Juraj, however, is nothing but a patient man. As soon as you enter, he drops to his knees and gently taps your heel. You smile the sweet smile and lift your foot, watching in awe as he undoes the tiny buckle, pulls off the shoe, places a small kiss on your leg, and then moves on to the next one.

When he finally finishes your shoes, he gets up, moving you back to your earlier position, trapped between him and the wall. His eyes are blown a bit, and the smell of his cologne makes you more buzzed than any of the change you’ve had tonight.

You finally make your move, pulling off his suit jacket and throwing it far away from you. He smiles and picks you up effortlessly, his hand gently resting on your ass. He gives it a small squeeze as he leads you to the bedroom, tossing you on the bed as you shriek out with laughter.

Juraj is a patient man, but even he has his limits. When he climbs on top of you, watching as you undo his shirt buttons, he’s quick to lean down and begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck. He continues his assault when you finally finish the buttons, tugging his shirt. He pulls it off, and you almost gasp. He truly is sculpted by the gods, and you can’t help but stare.

“Are you too tired, my love?” He asks, knowing the answer.

You shake your head rapidly, pulling him down on top of you.

“Not in the slightest.”

#hockey #hockey boys #imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #juraj slafkovsky #juraj slafkovsky x reader #jurag slafkovsky imagine #montreal canadiens #nhl blurb #nhl players #nhl #nhl fic #arber xhekaj

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swissboyhisch · 5 months

Text

F1 x Hockey

Liked by yourbestie, colecaufield and others

yourinsta: the brother and in-laws decided to take me to a Habs game. Let's do this hockey! tagged: scottyjames, chloejames and lancestroll

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canadiens: thanks for coming! it was awesome having you and the squad come cheer on the team.

user: was this your first hockey game?

yourinsta: no! I'm a huge fan of hockey. Though it was my first Habs game.

user: Ahhhh! It was such a good game

chloejames: Bestie you're more wild than Lance games

yourinsta: 🙈

user: Who is this?

user: She is the younger sister of Olympic Snowboarder, Scotty James. He is engaged to Chloe Stroll, sister of F1 Driver Lance Stroll. The Stroll family are rich rich. Scotty is also best friends with fellow Aussie, Daniel Riccardo who also a F1 Driver.

user: Dont forget she is also a stylist for her brother, the Stroll siblings and their mother, Riccardo and a couple of F1 drivers. On the odd occasion she will style other people but she liked to be close with the people she styles.

user: anyone else see Cole in the likes?

canadiens: 👀👀👀

user: The fact that she was a fan of

user: 🤔

Liked by user, user and others

habsfan: Caufield and Suzuki walking into the Centre Bell for last night's game tagged: colecaufield and suzuki14

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user: Cole got a new suit?

user: is it just me or have they got new suits?

user: they look so good

user: Cole 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

yourinsta posted to their story

Liked by yourinsta, user and others

astonmartin: Got some special guests today for the weekend. Another F1 x Hockey crossover?

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colecaufield: thanks for the invite!

astonmartin: don't thank us, thank you know who 🤫

user: um WhAT?!

user: These three are chaos waiting to happen!

user: Imagine if these three met Lando 🤣

user: admin won't leak who :(

scottyjames: I'm glad that it was shorty

chloejames: SCOTTY!

yourinsta: 🤦🏻‍♀️

user: Did anyone see the comments by Scotty before it was deleted?

user: Cole has to be dating baby James

lancestroll: Just another sport added to the gang Liked by colecaufield

jackhughes: thanks for the hookup colecaufield

Liked by colecaufield, chloejames and others

yourinsta: Well... my idiot brother spoilt our 6 month hard launch plan. But here's the F1 X Hockey couple ❤️

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colecaufield: my little speed demon 🫶🏻

user: NOT WHO I EXPECTED!

user: they're steamy 🥵

jackhughes: fly us out to another race?

yourinsta: uhhhhh let me think... no.

jackhughes: boo you whore

user: Jack with a mean girls reference?

user: this is something I didn't know I need

chloejames: can't wait for a little brother

lancestroll: um what about me?

chloejames: 👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯

Tag List:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens @cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22

193 notes · View notes

turcott3 · 2 months

Text

throw away

matt rempe x juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral f and m receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, restraint, choking, and of course (can’t go without it) fluff <3

masterlist

“you ready to go?” matt asks as you finish thre final touches on your makeup.

“yep.” you smile turning to look at him, standing in the hotel bathroom doorway.

“god you look gorgeous.” he says, smirking, eyeing you up and down.

“thank you.” you blush, zipping up your makeup bag up. you and matt had been “talking” for about a month now, you grew more comfortable with him by the day and were honored that he invited you to come with him to this offseason training camp.

“come on baby.” he says lowly, intertwining your fingers, pulling the room door open.

“so we’re going to a restaurant with all of the guys in your group?” you ask.

“yes but i wouldn’t exactly classify it as a restaurant. its more of a bar club situation.” he giggles looking down at you as you stood and waited for the elevator.

“what if i think one of them is hot?” you joke, locking arms with him.

“then go for it, i won’t stop you.” he replies pushing the floor one button. a response you did not expect.

“oh that’s um- i was joking.” you laugh nervously.

“well i wasn’t.” he replies kissing you on the head. you furrowed your eyebrows, concerned that you had done something wrong but you can’t think of a time you’d give him a reason to question your intentions.

“oh okay.” you say, sticking to your joke. surely you weren’t gonna be eye balling another guy. you had googly eyes the first time you met matt, there was no way you could react that way to anyone else.

“i trust you.” he smirks turning his head to look down at you. you could’ve melted into the floor at the way his eyes practically stared into your soul. you walk out to the rental car and he opens your door for you, making sure you were in your seat before shutting the door behind you. you loved his gentlemanly gestures even with no actual commitment. it was like dreaming.

“it’s a short drive.” he states, staring at the directions on his phone.

“i won’t drink.” you reply.

“me either.”

“okay then maybe i’ll have like one or two.” you giggle as he leans over the console pressing a kiss to your lips.

“yes, enjoy yourself okay?” he asks, his face inches away from yours, eyes locked on his.

“i will.” you reply, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“you’re so pretty.” he smirks, pecking your lips one last time before putting the car in drive.

like he said before, the drive was short. you two entered the building together, his arm holding you close to his side. it was crowded and the music was loud. quickly, you found yourselves hanging around some of the guys he befriended during the first few days of camp, getting to know them as you sipped on a drink. you being a decent lightweight, you were tipsy off the one drink and decided to cut yourself off. you enjoyed this feeling. tipsy but coherent and capable of controlling yourself, however, you cared a little less about the judgement you’d receive acting out.

“matt, can we dance? let’s go dance.” you beg holding onto his hands, pulling lightly.

“we’ll be back.” he giggles to the boys, allowing you to guide him into the crowded dance floor. the music blared as you turned your back to the boy, his hands running down your waist as you grinded back on him shamelessly, his grip on your body tightening occasionally. you grabbed onto his wrists, directing his hands onto your tits. he squeezed lightly over the fabric of your dress, a moan leaving your throat involuntarily.

“stop before i fuck you right here in front of all these people.” he groaned in your ear. you could feel him hardening through the fabric of his pants.

“so tempting.” you reply, turning around and running your hands down his chest and attaching your lips to his.

out of the corner of your eye you saw someone. tall, muscular, brunette, bright smile. you turned your head to get a better look as you hugged the side of your head to his chest. the guy looked straight out of a magazine. chiseled jaw line, defined cheek bones, hair that fell on his forehead effortlessly in the perfect places, you could hardly believe he was even real.

“matt.”

“yeah?” he asks looking down at you.

“i’m gonna go…. get another drink.”

“okay,” he pauses, “talk to a guy, i know that’s why you’re walking away right now.” he whispered with a devious smirk on his face.

“stop.” you shoved him with a red face as he chuckles, turning his attention to one of his friends. you approach the guy who was now standing alone at the bar.

“and who are you? i feel like i know who you are.” you state.

“it’s juraj, and you are?” he replies with a thick accent.

“y/n. it’s nice to meet you, where are you from? your accent is fucking gorgeous.”

“no the pleasure is mine, you are beautiful. and thank you, i’m from slovakia.” he smiles, looking you up and down.

“so you here for that hockey thing?” you ask not even hiding the blush that crept up onto your cheeks, taking a sip of whatever drink you were handed by the bartender.

“yeah actually i am. it’s been a little lonely you know.” he replies, his eyes shimmering in the dim light.

“i would’ve thought you had a girlfriend.”

“oh no no, can’t really say i’ve been looking. a hook up would be nice from time to time though.” he laughs.

“yeah i bet.”

“you know matt?”

“rempe?”

“yeah, him.”

“yeah i’ve met him, he seems cool.”

“we’ve been talking for a while, he’s been great you know?” you say turning to look at matt, who had girls circling him, yet he paid no mind.

“would you wanna like, go somewhere or….. it’s just a bit loud. there’s a lot going on in here, not private.”

“i think we’re good here, unless you can’t hear.” you hesitate. you remembered what matt had told you earlier but it was hard to break your habit.

“you’re good, i don’t wanna like pressure you or anything.” he says motioning his hands apologetically.

“oh were you- oh juraj, i’m like talking talking to matt.” you reply, scratching your head

“and?” he smirks, his intention was clear.

he wanted to fuck you, and you couldn’t say you weren’t on the same page.

“i mean maybe we could, do something.” you reply, playing with the hem of your dress.

“what’d you have in mind?” he asks, stepping closer, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“y/n.” you hear to your left.

matt.

“oh hey matt, i was just gonna come looking for you. this is juraj.”

“yeah we’ve met before.” he chuckles, dapping him up. compared to how large matt was, juraj wasn’t far off. he was sizable.

“so, babe, juraj was wanting to come back with me tonight and i was wondering if that was okay?” you ask, toying with the seam of his shirt. he turns to juraj and you practically see a lightbulb go off over his head. he nodded at the slovak boy with a smirk, dapping each other up once again. you wished you could speak their language fluently but you were assuming you translated correctly.

“we should go now huh?” matt asks, wrapping an arm comfortably around your waist. you simply nod in reply and matt begins to guide you out of the building as you held onto juraj’s finger behind you. you found your way back out into the car and prepared for a probably silent drive home.

“will you go in the bathroom baby? just give us one second.” matt asks with puppy eyes.

“y-yes?” you replied as the boy handed you a bag from victoria’s secret you had never seen before.

“go change.” he mumbled in your ear, kissing your cheek briefly. you looked inside the bag briefly before hesitantly walking to the bathroom. you removed the tissue paper and pulled out a beautiful white lingerie set, the same one you’d been eye balling since your birthday a few weeks prior. you pulled it out of the bag, eyeing the gorgeous lace detailing and delicate rhinestones that lined the cups.

“okay.” you say, hyping yourself up in the mirror. you loved how expensive you felt.

you hear light knocks on the door.

“come in?” you said, adjusting the straps. matt opens the door and goes big eyed.

“what? is it ugly? do i lo-“

“you look fucking delicious.” he replies, licking his bottom lip before grabbing your face with his hands and crashing your lips together.

“what were you guys talking about?” you ask pulling away.

“guidelines.” he replies, twirling a strand of your hair.

“what kind?”

“it’s not really anything, i mostly just asked that he was out of here by early morning.” he giggles.

“oh… okay.” you blush.

“go out there and get comfortable with him okay? i’m gonna shower real quick. i wreak of liquor. some bitch at the bar spilled his drink on me.” he giggles brushing his hair out of his face.

“okay, don’t be too long, i’ll miss you.” you say biting your lip.

“i won’t be.” he replies kissing you. you leave the bathroom shutting the door lightly behind you. you reveal yourself to the boy who sat scrolling on his phone, shirtless.

“oh wow look at you.” he smiles putting his phone face down on the side table.

“you like?” you reply, doing a full spin.

“you look gorgeous.” he smiles as you place your hands on his shoulders. his hands placed lightly on your hips.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, locking eyes with you.

“juraj, we’re about to be fucking, yes you can kiss me.” you laugh. he grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger connecting your lips with his. his lips were soft and sweet with the taste of his mint lip balm. your tongue plunging into his mouth, opening just like an automatic door. the kiss sent you spiraling. you sunk onto his thigh, clenching at the sensation of his thigh against your already sensitive core. your body jerked involuntarily, begging for friction. his hand lightly wraps around your neck, creating pressure on the sides and you grab onto his wrist. you begin grinding your hips on his thigh, moving in circles, your blood rushing straight to your clit.

“oh fuck.” you whisper locking eyes with him.

“you gonna fuck yourself on my thigh huh?” he grunts and you nod, his hand limiting the movement of your head.

“better be quick, he’s gonna be done soon.” he smirks as you speed up. your legs squeezed around his thigh as your rubbed against him, leaving a puddle of your wetness on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing absolutely nothing to stop the sensation. you begged for your first climax, probably of many. he let go of your neck, you head crashing into his shoulder. his hand found his way into your hair as you crept closer to your climax.

“j.” you whined as his other arm wrapped around you.

“you gonna cum for me pretty girl?” he cooed in your ear.

“uh huh.” you reply with a moan, your legs shaking around his thick thigh, soaked in your climax. your chest rose up and down heavily as he rubbed your back gently.

"so so good." he whispers. you sit up reconnecting your lips before you hear the water stop running. you stand up from his lap, embarrassed at the sight below you.

"oh my god let me clean you up." you panic scrambling for your towel from the previous night.

"hand it to me i got it. get in bed, i'll be with you in a second." he states giggling at your embarrassment. he wipes his leg clean of you and removes his shorts, climbing into bed next to you. you rubbed your legs together, still horny as ever.

"so anxious." he whispered running a hand over your stomach, sucking on the skin of your neck. you tugged on his soft hair as he littered your neck with kisses. you heard the lock click and see matt turn the corner, his white towel not hiding the print of his thick cock.

"i see you got cozy." he giggles staring at the two of you on the bed.

"oh yeah for sure." you reply giving him a thumbs up, juraj chuckling next to you as he slides his boxers off.

"come sit." matt says undoing his towel. you scoot to the edge of your bed sitting on your knees.

"wanna use that pretty little mouth for me princess?" matt says with a smug look, sliding two fingers into your mouth. you sucked his fingers confidently before he retracted them, using your saliva to rub himself hard, which wasn't a difficult task.

"get on the ground. god, i want in those gorgeous lips of yours." he requests, placing a pillow on the ground for your knees, which you gladly comply and take him into your hands. you spat on his dick rubbing it in, glistening in doing so. you made contact with his tip, running your tongue over the sensitive head.

"fuck." he sighs, pulling your hair out of your face. you ran your tongue along the veins of his hard shaft, loving the taste of him in your mouth just like always. you bobbed your head up and down with the help of your hands before he pulled you off of him.

"wh-"

"it's not just me your mouth is taking care of honey." he interrupted, nodding to the boy who'd rubbed himself hard at the sight of you. your jaw dropped at the size of his dick. it was long and thick, you were overwhelmed enough by matt's alone. how on earth were you going to make it through this?

you climbed onto the bed and met slaf at his side. you took him into your hand, praying in some way you could handle this. matt climbed on the bed behind you and laid back, enjoying the view. you spat on your hand, working your saliva into the skin of his cock. you took him into your mouth, running your tongue in circles around his tip as you continued jerking him off with your hands. you ran your tongue up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth, sucking in your cheeks pulling him out with a pop. you felt matt pull your hair out of your face, keeping your lips on his dick. you opened your mouth back up for him this time with assistance. carefully, matt pushed your head down. taking more and more of juraj's dick into your mouth. you could only make it half way on your own but you had already passed that point. your eyes began to water as you reached closer to the base of his cock, gagging, gripping onto his thigh.

"god such a good girl." slaf groans before matt lets go of your hair and you pull him out of with a cough, spit webbing from your mouth. you laughed as you wiped the tears that spring loose.

"i didn't think i could do that." you say turning to matt.

"well it was fucking hot." juraj interjects leaning up slightly.

"lay on his chest for me baby." matt says kissing you deeply. you positions yourself in between slaf's legs, laying your back on his chest. matt spread your legs apart and ran a hand up your thigh. slaf grabs hold of both of your hands, pulling them above both of your head, his grip on your wrists firm. he wrapped his free arm around your waist snuggly as matt removed your thong.

"god i've been wanting to do this all fucking day." matt smirks licking his lips before diving between your legs. his tongue made intense contact with your clit, a sensation you'd been wanting since you arrived back at the hotel.

"oh my god." you yelped, clenching your fists. you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself quiet for the sake of your neighbors. if there was one thing matt loved in this world, it was eating you out.

"you taste so good sweetheart." he says leaning his head up as he easily slides two fingers into you. you squrimed in the brunettes grip as your thighs squeezed matt's head lightly.

"juraj please. please let go, i need something to-fuck." you moan squeezing your eyes shut, you buck against matt's face fighting slaf's grip on you.

"you gonna come princess? soak his face y/n. fucking drench him." he eggs you on in your ear lowly.

"j please, i need my hands." you beg, running out of breath. he releases your hands and immediately one finds its way into matt's hair between your thighs and the other gripping harshly on juraj’s thigh. you avoided finishing yet but the task was becoming increasingly difficult until you couldn't take it anymore. a yelp was released from your throat as you snapped into your climax.

"baby he's not even fucking you yet and you're fucking drenching his face." slaf giggles as matt backs away, his face drenched in your cum. your eyes full of daze, you sit up and attack him in a kiss.

"you're so fucking hot." matt says pulling away breathlessly.

"which one of us do you want first? we can take turns with that pretty little pussy huh?" matt laughs darkly, wiping his face with his arm.

"i want him." you say turning to slaf. his eyes lit up as he stands up out of bed.

"can i suck you while he fucks me?" you ask matt, linking your hands together, smiling at him with hopefully eyes.

"of course baby." he smirks, kissing your lips lovingly. you climb onto the corner of the bed, getting on all fours. matt rounds the corner and stands in front of you as slaf lays a light hand on your ass, running his cock through your soaking folds.

"so fucking wet for me." he says as matt jerks himself off in front of you, licking your lips waiting to have him back into your mouth. juraj pushes into your tight pussy from behind you slowly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at his size.

"fuck." you moan as he bottoms out.

"so tight around me." he says retracting his hips at a sinfully slow speed. his thrusts were deep and long, sending you into a spiral of uncontrollable moans. the way his cock effortlessly hit your cervix drove you mad as he snapped his hips, the skin of your ass slapping against him.

"oh my fucking god." you say as he picks up his speed. his grip on your hips became harder.

"such a good girl taking him so well." matt says just above the volume of your moans.

"open up for me." he continues, placing a finger under your chin to look up. he pushes his cock back into your mouth, the vibration of your moans making him impossibly hornier. the feeling of juraj stretching you out while you sucked in matt’s dick like a lollipop left you wondering if there was ever a time where you felt this overwhelmed, but in the best way.

“oh my god.” you moaned with muffled words as slaf picked up his speed, you helping by fucking yourself onto him. the sound of skin slapping practically drowned out your moans, spit dripping down your chin as you gagged on matt’s cock. you found the strength to lift an arm and pull him out of your mouth.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum.” you tell, lazily jerking off the poor boy in front of you.

“i’m getting close.” the slovak grunts from behind you, pulling your hips onto him as he drills into you even deeper than before. the line in your abdomen snaps as an orgasm washes over your body.

“fuck fuck fuck.” you hear him groan as he spills his warm seed deep into you, fucking all the way through both of your climaxes, his thrusts became slow and lazy as you both ran out of breath. he pulls himself out of your throbbing core.

“look at that, fucking hell.” he scoffs, running a finger through the mess between your legs as you catch your breath.

“open up sweetheart.” he requests and you do as your told, sucking his finger clean of the salty fluid. you sat up on your knees beckoning matt over to you.

“i wanna taste you.” you beg and he smirks. you take him into your hand, rubbing your finger over the sensitive part of his head, putting in effort to get him there just like you had been. you felt his cock twitch in your hand as he spewed his seed onto your face. you licked the liquid that had dripped onto your lip gladly, using your fingers to wipe up some more and suck your fingers clean.

“hold still pretty girl. let me clean you up.” matt laughs grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, wiping it from around your eyes.

“such a good girl taking him like that, so so good princess.” he smiles at your as he holds your chin to keep your eyes on him. you grew tired as your body came down from your high, your eyes fluttering shut.

“you can’t go passing out on us yet honey, we’re not done with you.” he smirks pressing a kiss you your lips. you were exhausted but couldn’t get enough of these men.

“lay down for me baby. i know you’re tired, take a breath.” he continues and you do as you’re told. you lay back on a mountain of pillows, glaring at the two boys eyeing you.

“matt,” you say practically in a whisper and he climbs over you, “want you in me.” you finish.

“dont worry princess we’re getting there.” he smirks before pushing his cock into your coated pussy without warning.

“oh my god.” you huff out, locking eyes with him as he thrusts deeply into you, stretching you out just like before. this was a feeling that was intoxicating. you could never get used to it.

“such a tight little pussy huh? you like it when i fuck you like this don’t you?” he asks as you lock your legs around his hips.

“yes fuck yes.” you moan, your voice growing raspy at the strain you felt in your vocal chords. he pounded deeper into you than you ever could’ve imagined, attaching your lips as an attempt to quiet your moans.

“gonna wake up the neighbors pretty girl.” slaf chuckles standing next to you, jerking himself off at the sight of you getting annihilated by matt. you reach out your arm without looking, taking juraj’s dick into your hand, pumping him with decent pressure. you were surprised you could focus on multiple things considering your pussy was getting drilled into by a 6’7 monster of a man, you were honestly impressed with your ability to function.

matt breaks the kiss away focusing more on his speed now. you pull slaf’s hand wanting to bring him closer to you, putting his saliva-soaked cock back into your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks out taking him all the way, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft on the way out. a galaxy began to form behind you eyelids at the boy pile driving you between your legs but you persisted on, twirling your tongue around the tip of the hockey player’s dick. you pulled away, grabbing harshly onto matt’s shoulder as you felt pressure in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before.

“holy fuck.” matt says slowing down and pulling out as your spewed liquid all over him. he looks down at himself in shock before laughing.

“what happened?” you asked leaning up.

“you just fucking squirted.” he scoffs.

“i did?”

“yes and it was fucking hot.” slaf says, leaning down and connecting your lips again.

“fuck you’re so perfect.” matt says pushing himself back inside you, quickly returning to his previous pace. he wasn’t able to go for long before you felt it again but this time he fucked you right through it.

“jesus need a fucking flood warning over here.” he grunts, pounding into you continuously.

“matt fuck i’m gonna cum.” you whine as he dips his head low, his hair tickling your face. your vision goes black as you tighten around him, your grip on his shoulder loosening instantly.

“such a good girl, you’re doing so good baby.” he grunts fucking you all the way through your high into his own, coating your walls with his milky seed. his thrusts slow down quickly, him growing lethargic with every thrust.

“so so beautiful.” he says keeping his cock deep inside you as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“fuck i can’t believe we just did that.” you giggle with the little energy you had left as matt joins your right side.

“i’m surprised we got no noise complaints.” slaf giggles joining you on your free side.

“so?” matt asks you.

“that was fucking incredible.” you scoff, almost wanting another go round but you know you couldn’t handle it. you nuzzled to matt’s side, his thumb running back and forth on your side.

“well thanks for tonight guys it was great, i feel like it’s probably good if i go back to my room.” the slovak says picking up his clothes, scratching the back of his head.

“thanks for coming bro.” matt says dapping him up just like he had at the bar.

“yeah of course.”

“juraj wait.” you say sitting up, matt’s hand dropping to the side of your ass.

“what is it?” he asks and you beckon him over.

“nothing i just wanted to say bye.” you say sitting up, tugging the boy down by his shirt to kiss him one last time, not lingering too long.

“bye sweetheart,” he smirks, grabbing his phone and exiting the hotel room. you and matt laid in silence under the covers for the next hour or so before you drifted off to sleep in the boy’s arms.

“huh?” you groan being woken up with a kiss.

“good morning pretty girl, it’s 10. i figured i should wake you up.” matt says lowly, brushing hair out of your face.

“morning.” you reply sweetly, sleep lingering in both of your eyes.

“last night was crazy.”

“yeah it was.” you giggle in reply.

“if i asked you, would you be all mine?”

“what do you mean?”

“like, god okay don’t laugh at me this is gonna be a little cheesy, would you please make me the happiest guy ever and let me have all of you? i know it has only been like a month but you are literally my oxygen. i’m fucking obsessed with you.” he says truthfully and you smile pressing a kiss to the boys lips.

“i’d love nothing more than to be all yours matthew rempe.” you reply as he pulls you to his chest.

“my babygirl.” he whispers, running soft fingers through your hair as you fight the urge to drift off to sleep again.

“would you be open to doing last night again?” you ask after some moments of silence.

“oh fuck yes.” he replies and the two of you giggle, spending the rest of the day wrapped up in each other.

#matt rempe #juraj slafkovsky #matt rempe smut #juraj slafkovsky smut #matt rempe x reader #juraj slafkovsky x reader #nhl imagine #new york rangers #montreal canadiens #turcs’ talk

389 notes · View notes

nhlclover · 2 months

Text

hey stephen | cole caufield

word count: 1.25k

summary: when reunited, both yours and coles crushes on each other come back full force.

warnings: drinking, mentions of puking, tiny bit of swearing

notes: sort of but not really based on ‘hey stephen’ by taylor swift. hope you enjoy!!

You adored the wrap-around porch of the lakehouse. The screen allowed soft breezes and rays of sunlight to wade in while keeping bugs out. The comfy furniture Jack and Quinn had splurged on last summer was a bonus. That’s exactly why you found yourself nodding off into a midday nap in the cuddler chair, your book long forgotten on the side table next to you.

Tires crunching on the gravel followed by the car horn beeping obnoxiously rip you from the brink of sleep. You groan, getting up from the chair and walking to the front door to see who was there. Jack's car was now parked behind Quinn in the driveway, the trunk open.

You had arrived the week before with Quinn and Luke, the three of you driving from home together. Jack, however, had visited his friend Cole in Montreal and was driving down with Cole a few days later.

“Hey!” Jack calls out to you, walking over with a cooler in hand.

“Hey there.” You grinned. “What’s in the cooler?”

Jack places the cooler down, opening the lid to show you the contents. “Did you pack anything other than beer?” You asked.

Jack scoffs, picking it back up. “Of course. We have some coolers in the trunk.” He says, walking past you and into the house. You notice someone come out from behind the car, carrying a duffle bag and a backpack.

“Hey.” He smiles. You know who it is immediately. It’s hard to not recognize that face. That smile. That laugh.

You hadn’t seen Cole since he played with Jack on the USNDT. You had a crush on him back then when the two of you were in high school. He was always kind to you and you had always found him adorable. You saw him fairly frequently then, but hadn’t in 4 years since Cole moved to Montreal, while you stayed in the States and went to school.

“Hi.” You squeak out.

Cole is still just as cute and still has the same smile, just slightly older and more grown. In high school, Cole was smaller, making him a bit of an anomaly among hockey players. But now he had filled out, put on muscle and you were finding now that there was a new layer to your attraction. A new physical attraction.

“Hi y/n,” He replies, stepping closer to you and opening his arms. “What has it been? Ten years since I saw you?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Try four.” You say, accepting his hug.

“How is that possible?” He asks.

“Blame Jack, he’s the one who always invites you when I’m never here.” You say.

“Why would I want my annoying sister here during a boys' trip?” Jack said, giving you a shoulder check as he walked past you to the car.

You stuck up your middle finger to his back, walking back inside with Cole following behind. Quinn and Luke had now come in from the dock, greeting Cole.

“Hey, man,” Luke says, bringing him in for a hug. “How’s it going?”

While Luke and Cole caught up with one another, you helped stock the fridge.

The first two weeks of summer blew by. Your days consisted of boat rides, occasionally joining your brothers and Cole in their training sessions at the local rink, and tanning on the dock. Through the two weeks spent together, your crush on Cole grew stronger.

Cole, in being around you for the first time in 4 years, is reminded of the crush he once harboured for you. He’d once thought it was just a fleeting crush he’d long dismissed. However, now being with you, he realized it was much more than that. It was a pining that never truly went away, merely went dormant just beneath the surface.

It was nearing the end of Cole’s stay before he was going to head back to Wisconsin. For Cole, whose feelings had hit their peak, it was now or never to confess his feelings.

The combined brains of Jack and Luke had decided to have a final night of going hard and drinking. From inside, you could hear the shouting of the boys who were playing a drinking game. You’d played the first few rounds of a game Quinn had introduced but forfeited as you didn’t want to be too hungover in the morning. You’d instead retreated to the porch, observing the lightning strikes on the neighbouring islands. You nursed a beer that you had started in the last round of the game.

A few moments later the door connecting the living room to the patio opened, and Cole stepped out. “Hey.” He said upon spotting you.

“Hey.” You replied. “You finished your drinking game?”

“No, they’re still going at it. I bailed.” Cole said. He walks over, standing next to you. He follows your gaze to the lake, the sound of the rain hitting the water filling the silence.

Cole admires the way you seem transfixed by the storm. “You like thunderstorms?” Cole asks.

“I love them.” You reply, a grin forming on your lips. “The way the lightning illuminates the sky…It’s just so cool”

Staring at you now, Cole was entranced by how you looked at the water. He couldn’t help himself. Something within Cole snaps and he can’t keep it in any longer. The song inside the living room changed, Hey Stephen now playing. The song sparks an idea in his head and Cole blurts out the words.

“I can’t help it… you look like an angel.” Cole says. Your head snaps towards him and you go to speak, but Cole beats you to it. “And I can’t help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain.”

You clue into what Cole is referencing, a grin forming on your lips. You stay quiet, hoping Cole will continue which he does.

“So come feel this magic I’ve been feeling since I met you. I can’t help it if there’s no one else. I can’t help myself.” He finishes.

“Did you just quote Taylor Swift?” You ask Cole.

“Maybe…” Cole says, reluctantly.

“Are you flirting with me?” You ask him.

Cole takes a step back, his cheeks burning as he reads your reaction as one of almost disgust. “Oh, am I that bad at it?”

“Not at all.” You smile. Cole relaxes at your words. “So do you really want to kiss me in the rain?”

Cole steps forward, slowly placing his hands on your waist. Apprehension and anticipation lace the air as you prepare to cross a boundary previously untouched. His lips land softly on yours, contradicting the emotions that were swirling within the both of you. With each kiss and the quickening of the rhythm, you find yourself melting into him. Your arms link around his shoulders, drawing him closer till your chests are pressed together.

Thunder rattles the sky but doesn’t disturb the bubble you two were in, rather underscoring the moment you two were having.

You are finally forced apart when the door to the porch swings open, hitting the wall next to it. Luke comes rushing out and down the steps, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the grass. Jack and Quinn come out next, not even noticing the two of you, instead laughing hysterically at Luke as he dry heaves on the lawn.

Cole takes your hand, quietly drawing you away and back into the house. You follow him up the stairs, away from the boys downstairs.

#cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl players #nhl fic #montreal canadiens #habs

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 6 months

Text

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

ax72 x reader: the fireman feels like something special.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"arber," he finished for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what trickster god was toying with you, now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your mouth ticked. "someone like me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you knew the feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'bout what?" he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what are you so afraid of?

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

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

if not him, then what is there to fear?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

regardless, you held fast for three days.

and then your roommate put rocks in the microwave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded, peered up at him through your lashes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"been waiting, have you, darling?"

you whined, nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you exchanged a look with arber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fin.

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