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gisellaswrld · 3 months

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i look at you wondering where your mind is at; you’re the first choice in my heart always

bb6 | being selected as a celebrity captain along side your brothers for the nhl all stars games was a situation you never thought of. leading up to the games, you made jack and quinn promise that brock would be the first pick. but after a small fight the morning of the games, you decide otherwise.

a/n this was fun to write and i love brock so much so if you guys want more bb6, please send some requests!! i’ll write a more smutty part two at the request of you guys :)

There were many things you loved that you had to give up due to your brother’s successful hockey careers. Your parents were already stressed out with three boys who all loved hockey, but you added stress on top of that. All your life, you never really enjoyed playing hockey. You played one year, just to prove to your mom you didn’t enjoy it. Ellen took the news with a heavy heart, but decided to give you options of what to pursue next. That’s when the entire Hughes family pinpointed your special talent. It wasn’t hockey, or volleyball, or golf even. It was singing.

After the realization, Ellen quickly found the best talent coach in Michigan for you. Moira, your singing coach, helped you develop the skills necessary for being the next big pop star. Fast forward to now, 20 years old, and you were jumping the charts. After opening on the Era’s tour for Taylor Swift, then the release of your first album Emails I Can’t Send, you were the next big thing. The media loved it all, they ate the news for breakfast.

Every single Hughes child was successful. Ellen and Jim got tons of recognition for raising successful children.

Currently, you resided in Vancouver with your older brother Quinn. Throughout the past years of living with him, you grew to adore his teammate Brock. What started as a friendship between two people who would confide in each other during tough times, blossomed into the dream healthy romantic relationship.

When you received the invitation to be a celebrity coach for the NHL All Stars game, you quickly accepted under one circumstance. That you’d coach alongside your brothers. Of course when the news was released, everyone went wild. On top of that, you got to join one of your close friends Tate as a coach. Tate had reached out one drunken night, asking for either your brother or Brock to fight Cole during a Canucks vs. Blue Jackets game. Since then, your friendship with her was as thick as thieves.

The morning of the All Stars draft had been going smoothly. You made Quinn and Jack to promise to pick Brock first, and they listened. You knew of their planning schemes with some of the other coaches, practically planning the draft before it happened.

You sat on the hotel bed, shoving cereal into your mouth. Brock was showering, getting prepared for the red carpet he had to attend before the draft. He came out, dressed in black pants and a white sweater. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, a curious look forming.

“What happened to your other outfit?” You asked, setting the cereal down on the bed side table. Brock quickly looked up at you, then looked back in the mirror. “Decided not to wear it.” Brock nonchalantly answered.

“Oh?”

“Don’t be like that, doll. It’s not anything crazy. Just figured I’d look more professional.” Brock explained, walking to sit on the bed. You scooted further away from him, a glare settling on your face. “So your first outfit wasn’t professional?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“Why are you making it a big deal?” Brock’s voice came across aggressive, causing you to scoff. “Because it was your idea? And I was excited to see you wear it.” You stated, quickly getting off the bed.

Brock watched as you gathered your makeup bag and other things needed to get ready for the entire day. You started to head towards the door when you heard his voice again. “Where are you going?”

Your hand clasped the door handle, pulling to door open. “To my brother’s room. I don’t want to deal with you or this right now. Just know you upset me and I’m angry.” You stated, leaving the room quickly.

Quinn and Olivia’s room was a few doors down and you were convinced you’d enjoy being around them more than Brock right now. You knocked loudly, hearing some shuffling before Quinn opened the door. Before he got a chance to speak, you shoved past him, setting your things down.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, shutting the door behind him. “Or do I even want to know?”

“Brock made me upset and I don’t want to be around him. I figured Olivia would enjoy having a friend to get ready with.” You answered, looking around for her. The bathroom door quickly opened, Olivia standing in a robe with curlers in her hair. “Y/N!” Olivia smiled.

“Hi Olivia, Brock made me mad. Now I’m here.” You greeted her, a smile on your face. Olivia gasped, crossing her arms. “What did he do?” Olivia questioned. You glanced up at Quinn, who was definitely more curious than Olivia.

“He changed his outfit, so now he isn’t wearing his special shirt.” You stated, shrugging. Olivia’s eyes widened, a scoff falling from her lips. “You mean the shirt he paid like $80 for? The shirt that has your face on it? The one he specifically bought for this?” Questions quickly fell from Olivia’s mouth as disbelief spilled through her tone.

“I’m going to Jack’s. You guys have fun.” Quinn left the room, hearing enough from the story. “Yes that shirt! He said he wanted to be more professional.” You exclaimed, a sad look forming on your face.

“What an asshole!”

You and Olivia finished getting ready, but you had to be at the Scotia Bank Area sooner than her since you were a coach. When you arrived, you were immediately swarmed and overwhelmed by the girls wanting pictures and autographs. You tried your best to speak to everyone and at least hold a conversation with them. Your agent, Thalia, stayed close by. She ensured you were making good time. For one moment she stepped away for a phone call.

“They want you for interviews now, sweet heart.” Thalia informed, ushering you forward. You were led to a room filled with reporters, players, the other celebrity coaches and captains. Once you were spotted by Tate, she quickly ran over to you.

“Oh my gosh! You look so good.” Tate gushed, pulling you into a hug. You smiled, quickly reciprocating the gesture. “Thank you, you look great yourself.” You replied, pulling away.

“I was surprised when Brock was brought back here without you. Are you guys okay?” Tate asked, her voice quiet as reporters were currently interviewing Auston, Morgan, and Justin.

“Got in an argument this morning, so I’m not speaking to him.” You shrugged, ignoring his stares from across the room. “Guess he should be reminded that even though the draft is planned, I can still have a little fun.” You added, a devious smirk on your face.

“You are evil. I love it.” Tate giggled, pinching your shoulder softly. “Oops, gotta go, it’s my turn.” Tate waved, walking over to Cale and Nate. You moved over to your brothers and Elias.

“Pst. Can we wait till after we draft the last Goalie to pick Brock?” You whispered, the plan already forming in your head. Quinn, already knowing of the argument, rolled his eyes. “They got in an argument over his shirt.” Quinn quickly explained.

Elias had a confused look on his face, but let out a sigh. “I guess, but don’t you think that’s mean?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “Mean? Sure, but I could be writing a song about him so what’s a little harmless fun?” You answered.

All four boys stared at you, then looked at each other. “If you don’t do it, I’m going to tell mom.” You spoke harshly, staring directly at your brothers. “You know how upset she gets when her brothers don’t listen to her only little princess,”

“Fine, fine. He will go after the goalies. Just don’t tell mom.” Quinn shook his head, slightly annoyed at his sister’s antics. “She’s got a point. Shouldn’t we be sticking up for our sister?” Jack agreed, gesturing towards you.

The rest of the interviews went well, except for when a reporter requested for you to do an interview with Brock. The interaction was tense, only short answers given from the both of you. You were sure the clips would quickly be on Twitter from your fan base, but oh well.

The draft started quicker than ever, the Hughes team getting the chance to pick the first player. You already told Brock that he was the intended first pick, but after deliberating with your brothers and Elias, Nikita Kucherov was going to be your first selection. You requested to be the person to announce it, just to see the look on Brock’s face.

“Team Hughes, are you ready for your first pick?” Jamie asked, looking at the group of four. Everyone nodded, agreeing on their final selection. You took a small step forward, a smile on your face as some fans cheered. “We chose Nikita Kucherov from the Tampa Bay Lightening,” You announced, eyes quickly locking to Brock.

Brock rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face. J.T. Miller nudged him, a curious look on his face. You shook Nikita’s hand, letting him go grab his jersey.

Quinn ended up picking most of his team, along with Brady Tkachuk, Jesper Bratt, and Cam Talbot. After a commercial break, the choice was back to the Hughes Team. You took a step forward, waiting for Jamie to give you the go.

“I guess, we are picking Brock Boeser. Even though he didn’t wear his shirt with my face on it, then was mean to me.” You scrunched your face, watching as Brock skated up while shaking his head.

You held your hand over your microphone as he pulled you into a hug. “You are in trouble, doll.” Brock mumbled in your ear, then promptly skated off to receive his jersey. You had a small smirk on your face, clapping as he received his jersey.

The rest of the event went smoothly, thankfully. Now you were pilled into Uber’s that were driving you to the bar that Auston Matthews rented out for the night. You were squished in between Brock and Elias, uncomfortably squirming in the seat at some of the potholes in the road.

Brock’s arm hung loosely behind your seat, his hand occasionally tugging at loose strands of your hair. To which you’d return a nudge at his side, and he would always react with a low chuckle.

“Scoot over, I know you are uncomfortable.” Brock leaned over to whisper in your ear. Jack was blasting music loudly in the Uber so it wasn’t hard for Brock’s voice to get drowned out by anyone but you.

You glared at Brock, but still scooted over to sit in his lap. “You still mad at me?” Brock continued to speak quietly, his hand squeezing at your exposed thigh.

You nodded, continuing the fun ignoring game you liked to play when you were mad. Brock hated it, despised it actually. Yet, you still did it because Brock would always find a pleasuring new way to deal with your attitude.

“Come on, don’t act like I don’t know what you did. I’m sure you loved convincing your captains to switch the draft order, all over a silly argument.” Brock spoke, tugging at another strand in your hair.

You looked at him in confusion, wondering who snitched to him. “You think Pettersson would keep it from me?” Brock now had an amused expression on his face.

Thankfully the conversation was put on pause as you arrived to the bar. Brock tapped your ass as you pushed open the door. Tonight, your plan was to continue to be angry at Brock, just to catch a reaction out of him. And boy, would it be a fun night.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl blurb #nhl all star game #nhl all star 2024 #quinn hughes #jack hughes #elias pettersson #brock boeser #brock boeser x hughes!sister #brock boeser x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader

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hugshughes · 4 months

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Rose Bowl, Baby! J. McCarthy

JJ McCarthy x fem!reader

synopsis - JJ wins it all, and he has his girl right with him the whole time.

wc - 2k!

contains - THIS IS SOOOOOO CUTE AWWW, cursing, stressed!reader (ME TOO AS FUCK), fluff, kissinnnnnnn, hugginnnnn, cute shit, FUCK THE TIDE :D, um that's it! oh established relationship!

an - unedited lol sorry i just wrote this in like two hours! 😭JJ😭BABY😭WON😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I WAS SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AND I DANCED. especially because my mother, brother, and sister were all pulling for Bama to make me mad. LAUGHED IN THEIR FACES LMAOOOOO. i was on facetime with my man for like half the game since i am a umich student... WAIT DO U GUYS KNOW THAT....? i dont think ive told u guys that... SURPRISE!!!!!! anyway no one reads these anyway so. ENJOYYYYYYYYYYY :)))))))!

One minute and thirty eight seconds. One minute and thirty eight seconds, that's how long JJ and the Wolverine's offense had to score a touchdown. 2nd & Goal, four yards to go. You held JJ's mom's hand as you took deep breaths, desperately trying to calm down. JJ could do this, you knew it. You stared him down as he stood infront of Coach Harbaugh, Alabama had called the last time out of the game.

Michigan needed this score to take the game to overtime. JJ knew, you knew, everyone did. Once JJ clapped in the middle of the huddle, the offense started dispersing back into their spots on the field. Jay's eyes met yours, they had multiple times all night. He knew exactly where you sat, he'd made you text him your seat numbers before the game. You let go of his mom's hand and gestured your hands over your ears, headphones, you always told him. Just pretend it's just you and your guys. Block out everything else. He nodded at you, cracking a little smile before taking a deep breath and running out to the field, putting his helmet back on. His mom melted over the interaction, leaving you blushing.

You crossed your fingers and said a prayer, you'd prayed more than once tonight, you'd been praying about this games for weeks. You held his mom's hand in one of yours, and gripped your 'J' necklace in your other, bouncing on the balls of your feet. The play clock was running low, JJ clapped his hands, beckoning for the ball. It went straight to his hands, he looked around for maybe a second before passing precisely to Roman. He caught it, he had an open lane, he's in the end zone! Holy shit, he's in the end zone!

You jumped, screaming JJ's name, turning to hug his parents. You jumped up and down, a grin wide on your face as you cheered for your boy. His mom wrapped an arm around you as you watched him tearily.

The next Michigan drive was messy, and had you scared, but when the time ran out, you were jumping up and down, shouting and cheering, hugging everyone around.

"Our boy did it!"

You nodded, laughing as you wiped tears from your eyes. The game wasn't over, you knew that. JJ's eyes found yours again, he shook his head in disbelief with a grin, gesturing headphones to you. You nodded, fanning your face from the tears, but smiling so wide it didn't matter.

You sighed happily when you watched Alabama defer their OT possession, that's what JJ wanted, if the game went to overtime, he wanted to go first, it would put more pressure on The Crimson Tide to go second in the long run.

You held your necklace close to your mouth as you closed your eyes, letting out deep breaths. JJ had this, you knew it.

The offensive and defensive lines faced each other at the Alabama 25. JJ clapped, the ball was sent straight to his hands, he quickly handed the ball off the Blake, who scurried around the defenders, landing at the Alabama 17. 'Thank God for Blake Corum' you whispered to yourself.

You saw JJ hiding a smile behind his mouth guard, and you knew this was it. Jay claps, and the ball is snapped straight to him, the ball goes straight to Blake, who has a completely open lane.

"Go Blake, go!"

You screamed out, feeling Megan's hand grip yours. You held your intertwined hands up, watching Blake run. He was in the end zone, yes!

"Yes! JJ, yes!"

You screamed, jumping up and down you as watched your boy cheer. He did it! Thank God! You hugged everyone again, cheering some more when the kick went through the posts. The game still wasn't over, the defense still had to come out and play this game. You knew JJ wouldn't be able to assist his team anymore on the field, but you also knew he was now gonna be the biggest hype man for his defensive teammates.

You bit on your dark blue acrylic nails as you watched Alabama line up at the Michigan 25. You winced as the game went from 3rd & goal at the Michigan 14 to 4th & goal at the Michigan 3. One more play, make or break.

You saw Jalen Milroe clap for the ball, and run straight into the O-line of Michigan. Nothing! He got nothing! Oh my God, Michigan won! You watched JJ sprint onto the field as you screamed, jumping up and down for the third time. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you shouted, hugging Michigan fans you didn't know. Your smile couldn't have been punched off of your face.

The blue and maize confetti flew, you watched tearily as the Michigan guys flooded the field. You watched JJ grab his rose, talking to a reporter. His bright smile and gorgeous face was spread on every screen in the stadium. Your boy had done it, finally. You watched as your sweet boy accepted the Rose Bowl trophy with Blake, his smile never leaving his face.

You ran down the few rows to the bottom row of the bleachers, standing with other Michigan player families as the boys were dispersing back to the sideline, finding their loved ones. JJ, being the star quarterback he was, took a while longer to get over to you guys, but it didn't matter to you.

You two locked eyes, matching smiles on your faces as he ran over to your group. You let him talk to his parents and sisters first, before he moved over to you.

"Come'ere baby!"

You grinned as you leaned down over the barrier, JJ's hands grabbing at your waist to safely pull you closer, kissing you passionately. Your hands cupped his face, as you both smiled into the kiss. You pulled away, whispering to him with a big smile.

"You did it lovey!"

He nodded, his bright smile lighting up your heart.

"Can you just jump the barrier instead of going back through the halls?"

"S'that allowed?"

He looked around, quickly asking an employee of the stadium standing down against the barrier. The employee looked at JJ with wide eyes, nodding at the quarterback, though he probably didn't exactly have the position to answer him.

"See? You're fine, c'mon angel!"

You looked around, seeing one of the guy's little brother being passed over the barrier, then to Megan who shrugged with a smile, nodding for you to go ahead. You slide your phone in the pocket of your jeans, sitting on the barrier before turning around towards JJ, who held his hands on your waist.

"Can't believe I'm doin' this."

JJ laughed, pulling you down as you slightly jumped off the wall, down into his arms on the field. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"I'm so proud of you, Jay. You are so talented, baby."

He pulled away from you, cupping your face with his hands, touching his forehead to yours.

"Just had to remember my headphones, like always."

You nodded, laughing and kissing him again, JJ leaned back, your feet leaving the ground for a few seconds as he kissed you. You both pulled away giggling. You got a random burst of energy, electricity pulsing through your veins.

"Ah! Oh my God, you won!"

You pulled away from JJ, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down. His smile widened, he was so, absolutely in love with you, but watching you support him so wholeheartedly, made his heart squeeze extra with love.

"Yeah! I got the Rose Bowl, baby!"

JJ's family came through the tunnel, having chose the safer route to get to the field. He hugged his family, talking with them and taking pictures. You took a few of them on your phone, smiling sadly at how cute they were.

"Angel! Come take a picture with me!"

You smiled, nodding as you went over to your smiley boyfriend. He took his winner's hat off and plopped it onto your head, it was sweaty, but you didn't care. You did one picture standing next to each other, his arm around your hips as you both smiled brightly. Then there was one where JJ kissed your cheek out of nowhere, then another taken the moment after where you both laughed as you wiped the eyeblack he spread to you off of your cheek.

They were adorable, objectively. Your group was soon exiting down the tunnel, bidding JJ goodbye with a quick kiss as he walked back towards the locker room.

Once you were all reunited with JJ he told you all he wanted to go back to the hotel and get food delivered to the hotel. That was your boy, even after the big win all he wanted to do was go back to his bed.

You got back to the hotel after a long car ride through Rose Bowl traffic, and quickly went up to your room. You and JJ were sharing, though he was technically supposed to be in his football assigned hotel room, he was crashing in yours. His parents knew, you two were trusted, and old enough to make your own decisions.

You showered as Jay laid in your bed, watching the Texas and Washington game. You came out of the bathroom in your pajamas, quickly crawling into bed next to JJ. He pulled you inbetween his legs, wrapping his arms around your middle. You were both tired, him more than you. You noticed the plastic bag sitting on the nightstand.

"What'd you get us to eat?"

You kissed him when he told you he got chicken tenders. You both watched the Sugar Bowl as you ate your dinner. You both got up to throw away your trash and brush your teeth before turning off all the lights and getting right back in bed. JJ watched the game as you laid on his chest, scrolling through your phone, showing him TikToks and Instagram posts of videos taken of you two from the game every little bit. You two were going viral among the teenage girls and fan pages.

When the game finished JJ turned off the TV, and you put your phone away as you two shifted so that JJ was laying with his head on your chest. You played with his sandy hair as you talked.

"I still can't believe all of it, it's just crazy."

"Well I can believe it, I knew you could do it. You know I was scared when we were getting close to the end of regulation, but then I saw you smile right before your last play of the regulation TD run, you know right before Roman got the touchdown, and I just knew it."

JJ looked up at you in the dark, he had hearts in his eyes. You were everything to him, just completely everything.

"I love you so much."

"I love you, baby. 'M so proud of you."

#jj mccarthy #university of michigan #rose bowl #umich football #college football #jj mccarthy x reader #jj mccarthy fic #jj mccarthy blurb #umich x reader #umich #umich smut #umich blurbs #umich fic #umich imagine #umich hockey #umich boys #umich wolverines #umich lb #michigan wolverines

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

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(2) cheeks turning red ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: mentions of alcohol (neither r or wanda consume it), two brief mentions of toxic parents (r’s mom went to jail), wanda & r flirting lmao

a/n: not proofread, this is fresh outta the oven babes. Idk how I feel about this bc I feel I’m not good with writing fluff like this LMAO

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It was a call from your brother. On the other end of the phone, he was begging you to come over and entertain them at dinner.

“It’s good to see you,” your brother had said earnestly when you had walked up. He wrapped you in a hug, one you sunk into.

“Tyler is at a friend’s place. It’s good for him to get out, he’s been struggling with friends.”

“He’s been doing fine at practice?”

He shuts the door behind you, “I mean at school, he’s been complaining that they’re immature.”

His wife calls from further in the house, appearing from a corner to come and greet you. She’s always been welcoming, but the relationship between you still feels fresh. The table was already set, the dishes laid out on the table.

“How’s Tyler been at practice other than the friends he’s been making?”

“Oh he’s picking it up well,” you slide the chair closest to the window out to sit, “cocky as ever, but he’s doing well.”

“Good. What do you think of the coach?”

An uncomfortable look is shared between him and his wife, it makes you feel small. The look they shared felt usually like they knew something you didn’t, or that they had to walk on eggshells around you.

“She’s great,” you defuse the silence, “We don’t have to talk about any of that, I’m moving on.”

“Sweet, we just care to check in,” she finally steps into the conversation. You could tell your brother wanted to hash it out yet again, saying it’s because he cares but you’ve said the conversations make it worse. When your mind wants to forget about it, the constant back-track doesn’t help.

“Tyler’s coach and I are talking.”

The sentence had him stuttering, shock written on his face, “when? And how?”

His wife has a similar look on her face, but the small smile on her face eases the pressure in your chest.

“The situation’s a bit different from how you two met. A man hit on me, remember what I talked about last week? She scared him off, we introduced ourselves, and started saying hi whenever we saw each other.”

He points a finger at you, “that’s different. Do you like her?”

“She slipped her number in my coat pocket, I’d say we’re both interested.”

“It probably took you a day to realize it was there.”

You attempt to hide your smile but it’s futile, and the two laughs at the sight. He sighs and leans back in his seat, no longer hunching over the table, “I also wanted to ask how your job’s been going? You still with that company?”

“I’m staying with them unless they refuse to give me a raise, the amount they’re giving is barely enough to cover rent.”

He hums, “if you need anything, we’re here.”

You smile as a thank you and divert the conversation away from you by asking about their lives. They’re always eager to, their body language becoming more open and relaxed once they begin to. It could be a result of overthinking, but at times you feel most conversations surrounding you are negative. The one you just had about your nephew’s coach was the first time you collectively connected positively.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

Within a second of closing the door to your apartment, your phone lit up the dark room. It was hurting your eyes, but you had never really cared to check who the recipient was until this moment. It wasn’t formatted properly, the text sent in a rush. The text read, “call me when you can,” just with random spacing and two misspelled words.

You debated waiting in hopes to seem hard to get, but you couldn’t wait any longer without hearing her voice. So you pressed on her contact, pressing your phone to your ear and sliding your shoes off in the foyer.

“Is everything alright,” you began, a small amount of concern bleeding into how you spoke.

“It can be,” she says, the pause between her words almost suffocating, “you deserve a nice dinner, and I will take you to one if you so wish to. But I have a formal event later tonight and need a plus one, I-“

“I’ll go as your plus one.”

“Oh wonderful. Thank you, thank you. I’ll come to your place at 9.”

She ends the call right after and you’re thankful she did. You can feel your heart fall out from your chest with the pitiful ache forming. If it were to be nerves or excitement, neither you nor your mind fully understands the difference.

With the lights now turned on it causes you to squint due to the sudden onset of light. You stumble to find your bedroom to open your window and let fresh air in. The projected event later that night turned your stomach into knots and mind into a blank slate of irrational anxiety. It was sudden and unexpected, but it was welcomed. What wasn’t welcomed was the following emotions, like anxiety.

The sun had settled under the surface, turning your room orange. With the sun lowering it set your alarm off. The tv across from you shut off and you slid off your bed.

Each minute passed while you got ready, and so did an alarm. Rather it was better to have three annoying alarms remind you of how much time you had than to be rushing out late. You had to remind yourself of that when it went off while you were in the shower, scaring you.

The parking lot was empty save for four cars in their assigned spots. Wanda had called earlier with questions on where you lived and if she had to do anything to get through the complex’s gate. Five minutes later here she was driving towards you.

A shaking hand reached towards the car door, opening it. She continued to watch you as you shut the door, you knew based off of feeling her eyes on you. It made your mind blank.

“I want to thank you again,” she admits, looking to you occasionally as she drives towards her friend’s estate. “It was last minute. I forgot about it until I saw the reminder on my phone.”

You smile at her, “you’re fine. What’s the event for?”

“My friend from college is getting married, this is some sort of together party. It doesn’t make sense and that’s just because they’re wealthy.“

“Who’s the wealthy one?”

“In a way both of their families are, but the bride’s family has a stable job set out for her.”

“How’d you meet?”

She stops at a red light, the color highlighting a side of her face when she turns towards you.

“She was in a class of mine. Connected over a terrible professor. I’m still surprised he still teaches there when all he does is read off of a slide show.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, “figures.”

When she parks, it’s behind a car brand you know is high on the market. It’s fun to dress nice, but it’s another thing when it feels like you’re playing dress up.

Wanda comes to your door, opening it for you and smiling when you fall forward into her. Your foot had fell between the crack of grass and concrete, twisting it and causing you to lean further into her chest.

“I don’t know anyone here expect for my friend, so you have no reason to fear me walking away. I’m in the same boat as you,” she whispers while shutting the car door behind you. A hand stays on your back as you two walk towards the lit up building.

The only awkward part of the night was when she greeted her friend, causing you to stand beside her as she did so. You pay it no mind though, appreciating the way she introduced you into the conversation. You give an occasional response, smiling politely to pass the time until they bid their goodbyes.

“I feel miserable,” she begins, walking you further into the house, “I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I choose to come.”

She looks relieved, her expression now at ease. Her fingers grasp a glass near her, bringing it toward you for you to take.

“I would like to know you more,” she says while taking one for herself, “did you do another sport besides ice skating?”

“I tried soccer, hated it.”

She leans into the counter, facing sideways as compared to you. Her tone easy when she speaks, “what happened?”

“I didn’t like the competitive nature.”

“Did you competitive ice skating? What’s different?”

“You’re actively going against another team. I enjoy being competitive, I don’t like working with a team against another team.”

She hums, shaking her head in disbelief, “I would be crazy to believe that. I need to play with a team.”

You mock her hum, “of course you would.”

A faux offended expression comes on her face, “what’s that supposed to mean? Thought you said I’m a great coach.”

“You are, you just fit the criteria to enjoy a sport where you ram into others and shove a small puck around.”

“Is that why you said I’m a great coach?”

“You won’t let that go, huh?”

She scoots closer, “not until you tell me why.”

You roll your eyes a second time, laughing and pushing her back. She shrugs, “when a pretty woman compliments your teaching style, it’s important to know why so I can continue.”

You look at her incredulously. Unconsciously all nerves you had before beginning to fade away as the night continues. She’s easy to talk to and tease, a contrast from you’re used to.

“You’re genuine.”

“In what, I need more. In how I shove your nephew around? In what?”

“You’re an absolute dork. I mean in how you treat the boys, you care about them. Like you cultivate relationships with them. Even mix of stern and supportive.”

“Some coach expert you are, who’re you comparing me to.”

You have a choice to opt out, but she has an air of freedom. A feeling that you want to fall into more, so you open up that space.

“My mom.”

“Oh,” she gets closer, making your heart race, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, she’s in jail now. Long gone.”

“Shit wow, okay,” Wanda laughs, an endearing grin on her face, “you’re full of history.”

A couple of drinks and long conversations later, you begin to pull away from the party. The atmosphere was calm on the drive home. With the gentle hum of the AC and Wanda’s presence, it lured you to lean fully into the car door beside you.

“If you’d like to sleep, go ahead. It’s pretty late.”

You glance to the clock, finding the numbers 2:00 glaring back at you. A sigh comes from you, “no.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, her husky voice cracking at your resolve. You watch her side profile, a hand under your head.

“You have a slight accent,” you begin and she cuts you off, apologizing for whatever reason.

“What? I was going to say it’s attractive.”

She huffs, looking a bit shocked, “thank you. It might be because English isn’t my first language.”

“What is it,” you ask tiredly, resisting how your eyes are practicing closing.

“It’s Sokovian. And doll, sleep. I promise I don’t mind.”

You didn’t have the energy to respond, the last coming from you being a muffled him before you drifted off. Twenty or thirty minute could’ve passed, but you woke when you felt the car turn at the strange loop getting off the highway. A slight headache begin to appear as you slowly woke up.

“I was about wake you,” she laughs softly, “you seemed to know we’re almost back.”

You groan with a hand in your head, “I regret sleeping, my head hurts.”

“Poor baby, do you have medicine?”

You nod at her question, reaching below to grab at your stuff that had fallen by your feet. The complex’s lights come into view and you’re almost thankful to lay down in your actual bed. What a gift it is to be able to do so.

“Thank you,” you start, “I had a wonderful time. I’m so sorry for just knocking out there at the end.“

“No worries,” she parks the car out front and you can feel the nerves from before spark.

“I would like to see you again,” you say quietly, looking into her eyes, “if that’s okay.”

“Love to. I can get you after practice Tuesday.”

The shyness comes back, everything within you burning at the idea of seeing her again. Your lungs heave in air looking at her, and she knows with the way she begins to smirk weird.

“You’re a goof,” you say finally, moving to climb out of the car. She laughs and waves you off.

Once finally in bed, you weren’t able to sleep with the way you kept replaying the way she was looking at you. It was dangerous, each one pulling you further into her.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

@dorabledewdroop @aru-son @thelittleliars

@sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1

@r0manxff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

@emiliaisdead @esposadejoyhuerta

@shinysuitcloud @xxsekhmet

@casquinhaa @scarlettbitchx

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #hockey coach!wanda #competing series

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hoe4sports · 13 days

Text

“Your last name on my back”

Jenni Hermoso x Caroline Graham Hansen (child reader)

A/N: Jenni never left Barca.

Summary: You get your very first jersey from your team,but you hate it. Not the jersey or the color or the fabric: the names.

Mamma had now stayed over for many nights. Probably more than 50. It was like a forever sleepover. You didn’t know why mamma had stayed over, but mami had tried to explain. You had seem mami and mamma kissing on the couch sometimes. Sometimes holding hands. Sometimes hugging. You understood that they loved eachother. Yet, big words were hard and you loved mamma. Mamma that had always loved you. That always let you sit on her lap. That always wanted to hold your hand. That never refused to carry you. Not your tummy mummy, but mamma. Mamma’s name was Caroline. She had played football with mami and tummy mummy in Barcelona. When your tummy mummy left in the middle of the night and Mami showed up to practice the next morning with a newborn looking terrified; Caroline was there. She was always there. She took care of Mami and you. She picked up the broken pieces and mended them back together one by one. One day at a time. You were only little so you didn’t understand why mamma couldn’t take you to the doctors alone or why you couldn’t have her last name. You had Hermoso, and another strange last name. The other last name was cold, it felt like a frozen shoulder or like someone was taking your heart away. All the other little girls at football had two last names; one from their mom and one from their dad. One from each parent. One from each person that loved them. You however, only had one. Not one name, but one that loved you.

When the coach of your under 5’s had given you your first jersey a Saturday morning, you had teared up when another older girl read the names of your jersey to you. You didn’t like the first last name. You hated it, despised it. The first time you had heard it was when mami was on a phone call while you were supposed to be sleeping. She had talked to her brother, about wanting to change your name but your tummy mummy had refused even though she wasn’t a part of your life anymore. That’s why when you got your first jersey, the moment wasn’t filled with joy. It was filled with as much rage as a 4 year old could have. Your little hands pulled the jersey off while they were shaking as tears were forming in your eyes. The pride of your first jersey being ripped away from you in an instant. You quickly blinked the tears away as you stood there with the jersey in your hands. The fabric of the jersey was just like mami’s jersey, but this jersey didn’t feel good. It felt like something you wanted to throw to the ground. Stomp on. Hit. Get rid of in an instant. “Y/N, you no like your jersey?” You coach said as he stood infront of you. You looked down, not daring to look him in his usual kind eyes. “It’s small” you murmur out as the best possible excuse even though as the youngest and smallest on the team, it definitely fitted you. “Ah, si, how about you just wear a vest yes? A pink vest?” He said as he held the pink neon colored vest infront of your eyes. You grabbed it quickly as you settled on wearing the familiar bright vest instead. Practice began and you quickly forgot about your jersey that didn’t feel like your jersey. The practice went on quickly and by the look of mamma’s face; you knew that she could sense that something was going on. It wasnt until one of the youth assistant coaches was helping you with controlling your ball that you noticed that your jersey was gone from the field. It made you happy, as you thought that it had disappeared and that you wouldn’t have to ever see it again. The practice ended and your team did your usual team hug and chant at the end. You ran off the field with the other little girls straight to Caroline who was sitting with the other parents. “Mamma!” You yelled as you ran into her arms. “I am so proud of you Engel, you worked so hard today. Ready to go home and see mami?” Caroline said as her strong arms lifted you up from the ground. Mamma and mami never cared about people that said that you shouldn’t be carried or that you were too old. They knew that one day, you wouldn’t wanna be carried anymore and until that day came along: they refused to stop holding you close and keeping you safe.

—

You were sitting at the kitchen table with Mami and Caroline having lunch. You were talking about how practice went and how hard you were working on your skills. Caroline joked that she had gotten it from her mamma, but all three of you knew that it wasn’t possible. It made you pout as you wanted to be mami and mamma’s baby so bad. You dropped your fork onto the table and frowned as you pouted. Your mami looked at you as she tilted her head. “So baby, we need to talk about what happened at practice today. I heard that you didn’t like your jersey, no? Why is that?” She spoke as she looked at you. Caroline rubbed Jenni’s back as support and you crossed your arms in anger. You shook your head, refusing to answer as your feelings were bottled up in your throat forming a big lump. «Princesa, we want to help you. Was the color wrong? Or was it the fabric?” Mami continued as she tried to get out of you what the issue with the jersey was. The anger made your head spin and your feet tickle. You wanted to throw a fit and scream and yell. You hated your last name. It reminded you of the person who abandoned you when you were a baby. Who suddenly decided that you weren’t important, that you weren’t wanted, that you were regretted. Your little heart was beating fast and your hands were shaking. You looked up at Mami as you shouted on the top of your lungs; “I don’t wanna be a Putellas anymore, I wanna be a Graham!”

You had hopped down from the chair and stormed to the bedroom as quickly as your tired feet would let you. You shut the door with a bang and twisted the lock on the door. Mami cursing herself for not removing it as she was supposed to. You stomped to your bed and grabbed your pillow and blanket before you made a spot inside your closet for you to decompress and hide. Your feelings felt so big, like your little frame couldn’t possibly fit it all inside your heart. You felt angry, scared, fragile and terrified that mami would eventually regret you as well. You didn’t wanna be a hard child. People would always say that you were delightful and easy going, and you were for the most. It was only this subject that had grown into a big knot in your stomach. Mami didn’t wanna hide your story from you in case you would read it somewhere or a kid would ask you about it. She wanted you to own your own story, so she had always made sure to tell you the story and give you age appropriate details. You pulled the closet doors closed as you closed your eyes feeling tired. You weren’t sure if it was because of practice or because of your big feelings. You wanted nothing more than to run to mami or mamma, be held, be told that she would take care of it, that it was okay, that she wasn’t upset or angry and that she loved you endlessly regardless of anything. You wanted mami to pick you up with her big warm strong arms and hold you close so you could feel her familiar scent. But you couldn’t let yourself. You wanted to be stubborn. To be a big girl. You sniffled as a tear rolled out of your eye as your tried to hold your polar bear close. Your polarbear was however in your bed so you made a bolt to grab your bear before coming back into your closet feeling like you wanted to hide away forever. The bear that Caroline had gifted you when she came from camp with team Norway. You held the bear tight and had him pushed towards your chest as you sobbed. Eventually falling asleep tucked away in the closet.

You woke up to mami’s and mamma’s face towards you. You blinked a couple of times. Could it have been a bad dream? “Hola princesa” Mami said as she stroke your hair gently. The light was dimmed and you were sitting in mami’s arms in their bedroom. You could hear the sound of the television that was mounted on the wall infront of the bed buzzing. “Mami” you said as the feelings came crashing into you leaving you chocking out a cry. “Shh, mi amor, it’s okay, it’s just big feelings” Mami said as she held you closer one hand on your back and the other on your head pushing you into her chest like she did when you were a baby. “Everything will be okay, Mami will take care of it. Mamma told me what happened and if you don’t want to; you don’t have to tell me, si?” Mami said as she comforted you while you shut your eyes to keep the big feelings outside. “Mami?” You said so quietly that nobody should’ve been able to hear, but Mami always heard. Mami always knew. “Si, princesa?” She said as you wiggled lose from her grip and sat up infront of her. You looked at Mami, then at mamma and then at Mami again. “I don’t like my name” you muttered quietly expecting some sort of reaction. “Is that so? Why?” Mami said as she looked at you with a soft expression on her face not seeming angry or mad, just looking at you like you were her whole world. “The other kids, Mami..” you started as you felt tears pricking in your eyes and your voice started to break. “I wanna be like you, and mamma..” you continued as you took a big breath to sound out the last word you needed to complete the sentence. You looked at mamma. “I want your last name on my back, Mami. But I also want mamma’s. No dummy tummy mummy last name.” You said as your frowned and tears were escaping your blue icy eyes to run down your red blissed cheeks. “That’s okay princesa, I can talk to the coach.” Mami said as she pulled you into her arms again. “Princesa, you can have both our last names. Mamma has said that she thinks it’s a good thing.” Mami said as you looked over at mamma. To your surprise, Caroline was smiling at you. You sniffled and smiled back before you launched yourself at mamma like a rocket trying to go to space. But just like mami, mamma always knew and she was prepared letting you close hugging you tight. “Lille venn, we have got you a present” mamma whispered in your ear as your head shot up almost knocking mamma’s nose out in the move. “What is it?” You said as you could feel a spark of good feelings coming back into your body. Mami reached for a box next to her night stand and your eyes opened wide. The box was pink and glittery with a glittery golden bow on top. Mami sat it infront of you as mamma held you in her lap. You carefully tugged at the bow, causing the bow to loosen as you took the lid of the box. You pulled the item out as it revealed a jersey. A jersey just like the team had gotten this Saturday morning at practice. Your heart dropped for a second as you lowered the jersey until mami held it up for you to see. “Do you see the back princesa?” She said as you looked at the letters. It made you confused as you still were learning to read. “It says Graham-Hermoso and it’s the same as mamma’s and mami’s number. 10” Mami was nr.10 in Barcelona and mamma was nr.10 in the Norwegian national team. You felt all the bad feelings rushing to leave your little body as you wrapped an arm around each woman’s neck holding them tight. The two women eased closer to you and held you together closely. “We love you, Princesa. You can always tell us if something feels bad.” Mami finished as she kissed your cheek making you feel all bubbly and happy again. But the legal part of the name change? That’s a story for another day and it’s a long story.

#woso imagine #caroline graham hansen #caroline graham hansen imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso #woso x reader

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fiapartridge · 2 months

Note

hii 💌 with macklin celebrini and his celebrity crush! reader ?? teehee 🤭🤭

macklin celebrini x hughes!sister

summary: when a video on the bu hockey instagram blows up, you finally match the name to the most perfect face.

fia's notes: i love mack so much. he's my fave bu boy 💌 also! happy valentine's day! 💌⭐️🍓 OH! and i made this a hughes!sister because...i wanted to... enjoy!!! <3333

Who is your celebrity crush? the whiteboard read as the boys piled off the ice and down the hall towards the locker room. Monday questions were the guys’ favorite or least favorite day depending on which guy you were asking.

Case bounded off the ice, catching the question in the corner of his eye. “Mm, Margot Robbie. One hundred percent,” he pointed at the camera, winking.

Lane Hutson was next as he stumbled down the hall, smiling once he saw the board. He hummed, standing in front of the question as he thought deeply about his answer. “Can I have multiple answers? Yes? Okay, um, I like Meghan Fox sometimes, Alex Morgan is pretty cool, Livvy Dunne definitely, Taylor Swift is a favorite, maybe Ariana Grande but she’s been iffy lately—”

Pushing him off camera, Doug laughed as he read the board. “Jesus, Lane. How many crushes do you have?”

“Hey! There’s a lot of beautiful women out there,” he smiled at the camera as Doug made a gagging noise in the background.

“Aiden!” Doug called for the boy as Aiden laid his stick on the wall and threw his hands to his hips.

“Huh?” he replied.

“Celebrity crush, go.”

Aiden chuckled before shaking his head and pointing to Macklin who was trailing behind him, oblivious to the question. “Why don't we ask Mack over here,” he beamed, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and throwing him in front of the camera. “Macky definitely has someone in mind, don’t you Mack?”

Macklin would have punched his brother square in the face if he hadn’t been standing directly in front of the camera. A light tinge of pink dusted the boy’s features as Aiden teased him for his sudden shyness.

“C’mon Mack, maybe she’ll see it!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Macklin laughed awkwardly as he raked his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t say it, somebody else will.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pointed as Aiden grinned at the camera.

“Macky’s in love with Y/N Hughes!” he shouted before Macklin shoved him off camera, the video cutting off as you gaped at your screen.

The video was being sent to you by everyone you knew and every single person you didn’t know, too. Your entire feed was flooded with the boy’s reddened cheeks and awkward smile. The first few times of watching it, you felt bad that the boy was getting blasted on social media for liking you, but after a couple more rounds of watching, you went down a Macklin Celebrini rabbit hole. Your search engine was consumed with his interviews and game highlights. You researched his stats, age, birthplace, which school he was currently attending, everything.

And it didn’t hurt that he was hot and your age. I mean, you weren’t new to the hockey scene being that you grew up in a house full of stars: your dad was an assistant coach for the Boston Bruins, your mom played for the US National Team at the Women’s World Championship, your brother was the captain of the Canucks, and your remaining brothers were playing on the same team in the NHL, breaking records and setting new ones. Your entire life was hockey even though you had nothing to do with the sport in the slightest. No, you were more of a figure skater—an Olympic gold figure skater, to be exact. You were on the ice in a different, less violent way. But you still supported your family and all of their endeavors, and gratefully, they supported yours, too.

So Macklin wasn’t a total stranger. You had heard talks of the projected #1 first pick at the 2024 NHL draft, but you never cared enough to match the face to the name. It’s funny that this is how you found out—sitting on your living room couch surrounded by your protective older brothers who knew his stats like the back of their hand. And they all held a bit of resentment for him.

“He was on Team Canada,” Jack scoffed. “You should not be associating with him.”

“So was Mercer!” you retorted. “And he’s still one of your best friends!”

“He’s also my teammate, Y/N/N. I can’t really not like the guy.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to the oldest who sat on the other side of you. “Quinny?”

He shrugged. “He’s a good kid, good stats, from Vancouver so you already know he’s a Canucks fan,” he smirked. “Let it go, Jack.”

Jack turned towards Luke who sat on the coffee table directly in front of you as he held your laptop on his lap, rewatching the video. “Luke? Thoughts?”

Luke looked up, watching as the three of them stared right back at him. “He’s in college, so at least you know he’s getting an education.”

Jack chuckled. “You were in college and you still have the brain of a monkey.”

Luke stood up, throwing the laptop on the couch as you and Quinn gave each other knowing looks. “And if you went to college, you would know that monkeys are actually really smart!”

You rolled your eyes, huffing as they burned glares into each other’s souls. “Can you guys just shut up!” you shouted. “I’m going to DM him and then I am going to never ask for your guys’ opinions ever again,” you smiled, standing up from the couch and walking towards your bedroom.

“I still don’t like him!” Jack yelled from the living room.

You groaned, not even making a move to turn around and talk to him. You simply shouted from the stairs, “I don’t care!”

You started a conversation with "Macklin Celebrini"!

You: Hii!

Macklin: You saw it, didn’t you?

You: What gave it away?

Macklin: The fact that you probably didn’t know I existed until that video came out.

You: Okayy, true. BUT I enjoyed it!

Macklin: Which part? The part where I was trying not to kill my brother, or the part that became a meme of my face getting so red everyone put tomatoes all over my Instagram comments?

You: Both? To be fair, I thought your blushing was cute.

Macklin: You’re kidding.

You: Not in the slightest. :) So, when are you in Michigan next? Heard there was this super fun lake house there in the summer.

Macklin: I can’t believe this is happening.

You: You would think you would be a bit more enthusiastic.

Macklin: Believe me, my face is crazier than in the video right now, and that’s saying something.

You: I believe it. And actually, that’s just all of my burner accounts commenting on your post.

Macklin: Knew something was suspicious.

You: Oh, definitely. Also…

Macklin: Bad news? I knew this was going too well.

You: No. Just thank your brother for me.

Macklin: For what?

You: For leading me to you.

Macklin: Oh, God, I’ve gone full-on tomato.

You: 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅!

Macklin: IT WAS YOU

#> fias 600 celly! ★#macklin celebrini blurb #macklin celebrini #macklin celebrini imagine #macklin celebrini x reader #boston university hockey #boston university #bu hockey

167 notes · View notes

imaginesig · 4 months

Text

Father’s Day Posts

Quinn Hughes x Verstappen!Reader smau

Jim Hughes x Verstapppen!Reader platonic

Max Verstappen x Verstappen!Reader siblings

This was a very random idea bridging two of my interest- the idea is the reader is Max Verstappen’s younger sister who’s dating Quinn Hughes. These are some of the Father’s Day posts throughout the years as Jim Hughes fills your fathers shoes

2 years with Quinn

y/n_verstappen

Liked by _quinnhughes, lewishamilton, and 20,822 others

y/n_verstappen: Happy Fathers Day to @/jimhughes!! Thank you for allowing me to join the celebration💖

Tagged: jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, ellenhughes, jimhughes

jimhughes no need for thanks, family celebrates with family

y/n_verstappen who’s cutting onions 🥹

mclaren let’s keep the celebration going into the weekend!! We have paddock passes with your name on them!

y/n_verstappen not admin showing me up in the gift department 😭

landonorris step it up Y/n

_quinnhughes don’t worry he loves the watch more than any of his kids

jimhughes now I have somewhere to wear it😆

ellenhughes that is such a good photo!! What would I do without you

y/n_verstappen have about half the amount of family photos

lhughes_06 bribery goes a long way

maxvertappen1 I made you an aunt and I didn’t even get a call??

y/n_verstappen no

y/n_verstappen @/kellypiquet Happy Father’s Day, you’re the best dad out there 💪

maxverstappen1 🖕

user this is so cute

user her inner child is healing I can feel it

user Y/n has blessed us again with new Hughes brothers content

y/n_verstappen everything I do, I do for you

user OMG SHE REPLIED😭😭💖

danielriccardo I’ve waited almost a two years I better get to meet the fam

y/n_verstappen only if you follow the rules

jackhughes rules?

y/n_verstappen Danny ric unconfined is a lot for the first meeting

_quinnhughes I can confirm

_quinnhughes love this, love you ❤️

y/n_verstappen love you too❤️

3 years with Quinn

y/n_verstappen

Liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussel63, and 29,297 others

y/n_verstappen: Happy Father’s Day year two!! Hope Monaco didn’t disappoint 💖

Tagged: ellenhughes, jimhughes

lhughes_06 now the baby picture was just unnecessary

jackhughes and I thought moms account being private saved us from this

y/n_verstappen no one’s safe from me

maxverstappen1 we know

danielericcardo we know

charles_leclerec we know

landonorris we know

alex_albon we know

lewishamilton we know

georgerussel63 we know

y/n_verstappen 🤭

lhughes_06 most united the grids ever been

user1 sad we don’t get brothers content in Monaco

user2 they weren’t there due to schedule conflicts

user3 wait so it was just her and Quinn’s parents

user2 Y/N’s said for the past year Jim wanted to explore Monaco not on a race weekend, so with this years scheduling it makes sense that she used this time off to give him a Father’s Day trip leading up to the day

user1 she’s so sweet I love her😭💖

user3 she even asked Charles for help planning the must do things since it was so quick

user4 kinda weird to take a trip with just them is you ask me

user3 I didn’t

jimhughes I had an amazing time!! Thank you so much sweetie!

ellenhughes definitely one of the best surprises he’s received

y/n_verstappen y’all will have to come back and explore more!! @/charles_leclerc knows the best spots for dates

user1 not Y/n planning a romantic getaway for them😭😭

jackhughes so you 1) went on a nice trip with MY parents and left me in Jersey and 2) posted a baby pic of me on the internet

y/n_verstappen and what abt it??

lhughes_06 the only way we’ll be consoled after this betrayal is with a trip to Australia

y/n_verstappen planning rn🫡

danielriccardo put me in coach

4 years with Quinn

y/n_verstappen

Liked by lhughes_06, jimhughes, and 21,827 others

y/n_verstappen: Watch out everyone, he’s switching sports 🏒🏎️ Happy 4th Fathers Day to my adventure buddy!! You instantly made me feel part of the family from the first moment I’ve met you, my only regret is waiting until 2 years in to show it.

Tagged: mclaren, jimhughes, ellenhughes, jackhughes, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes

jimhughes you’ve always been my daughter, post or no

y/n_verstappen aww love you papa Hughes 🥹💖

user1 “papa Hughes” I CANT TAKE THIS

_quinnhughes she said mama Hughes too

user1 STOPPP🥲

_quinnhughes why is he posing with cash 😭

y/n_verstappen flexing on the broke bitches of the world

_quinnhughes so Luke?

y/n_verstappen yea Luke

lhughes_06 I WASNT EVEN HERE AND YALL STILL FIND A WAY TO BULLY ME

y/n_verstappen it’s endearingly moose

charles_leclerc she does it to us all

lhughes_06 so it’s not just a once time “inchedent”

user2 NOT CHARLES IGNORING HIM💀💀💀

redbullracing we have an open seat and a contract ready!!

maxverstappen1 no you don’t?

redbullracing F1 only really needs one Verstappen and we chose favorites

y/n_verstappen admin I love you

jimhughes I’ll get my pen😆

user1 not Jim taking Max’s seat 😭😭

user2 stop that’s so sweet

user3 I wasn’t ready for Mclaren to post the sweetest video of them ever

user4 ikr

user5 Jim being in a video with other Mclaren dads killed me in the best way

user3 he’s the dad Y/n needed

mclaren thank you for joining us for a friendly competition Mr. Hughes!!

jimhughes It was a pleasure! Karting should be the new golfing 😆

y/n_verstappen friendly my ass, now I know where the boys got their competitiveness from

jackhughes you would have found out sooner or later

5 years plus a ring with Quinn

y/n_verstappen

Liked by ellenhughes, alex_albon, and 39,028 others

y/n_verstappen Podium for papa Hughes🏆Thank you for being the best honorary father a girl could ask for! I never had the dad who cheered me on unconditionally or smiled even if I wasn’t first. After over taking in the last lap, all I could think about was a crushing dad hug, and you did not disappoint. Thank you for loving me as if I was your own 💖💖

Tagged jimhughes

mclaren we 🧡 papa Hughes!!

ellenhughes I never thought orange would be my color

landonorris you look stunning in papaya ma’am

lhughes_06 get away from my mom 🤺🤺

jimhughes only a few more months and there won’t be any need for the “honorary.” I’m so proud dear and can’t wait to see where you end up!!

y/n_verstappen 💖💖

user1 literally crying

user2 this post is too much for me to handle

maxverstappen1 my little sister has the ability to be nice?? Alert the public there’s been a new development made

y/n_verstappen smashing your trophies as we speak

user3 WHY DO I BELIEVE HER???

_quinnhughes IM SO PROUD OF YOU! little upset you hugged my father before even thinking about me, but proud nonetheless

y/n_verstappen a little while longer and my HUSBAND will be the only man I think about 🤞🤞

_quinnhughes I love you ❤️

y/n_verstappen I love you too❤️

landonorris get a room

georgerussel63 you are aware this is a public comment section

maxverstappen1 just be glad you’ve never had to third wheel them

y/n_verstappen y’all hear that?? It sounds like the breaking of trophies

user4 can we just take a moment to appreciate how she built the family she always needed

user5 fr

user6 Y/n not only repaired her rocky relationship with Max, but also found a guy who treats her like she hung the moon, gained two little brothers, adopted rookies, and found a healthy father figure

user4 I’m convinced Harry wrote “Matilda” abt her

user5 she’s healing ❤️‍🩹

6 years with Quinn

y/n_verstappen

Liked by _quinnhughes, maxverstappen1, and 50,047 others

y/n_verstappen: how does one adequately celebrate the man who healed deep wounds and helped create the mentality you have today? Short answer you can’t. Long answer, you always work hard, smile when it’s rough, do everything with the intention of making him proud, and always try to be that inspiration for someone else even though all that will never be enough. Happy Fathers Day to my incredible father in law!! You picked up and glued on pieces of me I didn’t even know where missing. I love you 💖💖

Tagged jimhughes, ellenhughes, _quinnhughes

jimhughes what’s that phrase you use? Cutting onions? It’s been an honor to meet and grow a relationship with you. You’ve always been a wonderful partner to Quinn. It’s been incredible to explore the world, support you, and watch as you made history these past 6 years! Here’s to many more 🍾

y/n_verstappen i can’t even fathom a response😭💖

_quinnhughes he’s finally used a non-face emoji

jackhughes they’ve both helped each other in a way

ellenhughes my favorite daughter!!

y/n_verstappen hopefully more to come in the future @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes

lhughes_06 wow no pressure

jackhughes just throw us out there why don’t ya

maxverstappen1 it’s been a beautiful experience watching how this family effected you, don’t forget me ok?

y/n_verstappen I could never! With out the Verstappens I’d be nowhere

maxverstappen1 the hyphenated last name is still too long

y/n_verstappen and the dick is back everyone!!

maxverstappen1 I love you 🧡

y/n_verstappen I love you too💙

Comments have been limited

#smau #quinn hughes #Quinn Hughes smau #Quinn Hughes social media edit #Verstappen!reader #Max Verstappen x reader #quinn hughes x reader #instragram edit #f1 #Hughes #Canucks #vancouver canucks #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #Jack Hughes #Jack Hughes x reader #mclaren #red bull racing

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hockeylovee12 · 17 days

Text

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Two

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Warnings: Cussing

A/N This chapter was updated on 04/11 to replace the photo and then improve the text. The story line remains there's just a few minor adds.

November 11th, 2023

The mid-morning sun filters through the curtains in Luke’s room, casting a gentle glow across his face, as he slowly stirs awake.

His eyes flutter open and he immediately feels the dull throb of a slight headache.

With a groan, Luke rolls over and buries his face into the soft pillow. He silently thanks the hockey gods that his coach-even if it was done reluctantly-gave the team the day off, allowing him to nurse his minor hangover in peace.

Fumbling around on the nightstand, his long fingers finally find his phone. He squints at the screen, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness as he swipes through his notifications.

A text from his brother Quinn catches his eye: Tough game last night bud.

Luke sighs, remembering the bitter taste of defeat, his team suffered last night at the hands of their fucking rivals the Rangers.

He makes a mental note to call Quinn later, and check in on how his game went, knowing the Vancouver Canucks played the reigning cup champs last night, but having no clue how it went.

The next message is from his mom: Hi sweetie, Dad and I are so excited to see you and Jacky this weekend! How’s everything going?

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as he types out a response to his mom indicating his excitement to see her too, before hitting send and returning to check the rest of his notifications.

As he scrolls a text from an unknown number appears on his screen: Hey it’s Jordan. I had a great time tonight, let’s do it again :)

Luke’s heart skips a beat as he reads through the message, and a flutter of excitement courses through his veins. Memories of the previous night flood his mind-the laughter, the easy conversation and the undeniable spark he felt between him and Jordan. His smile widens as he types out the response: I’d like that.

Just as he hits the send button, the door to his room swings open and Jack strolls in, uninvited of course-a habit Luke has had to become reacquainted with since joining the Devils, and moving in with Jack.

“What’s got you smiling so early in the morning?” Jack asks, his voice equal parts teasing and curious.

Luke quickly locks his phone, trying to play it cool “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles

But Jack, ever the perceptive older brother, narrows his eyes and in one swift motion snatches the phone from Luke’s grasp, ignoring his younger brother’s protests, as he types in his password.

“Lets see what we have here” he says, a mischievous glint in his eye as he reads the text from Jordan “Ah is this the girl from last night?”

Luke swiftly stands up and lunges towards Jack trying to grab his phone, but Jack holds him at arm's length.

“Fine, yes, now give me back my phone” Luke grumbles, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.

“Not so fast,” Jack grins, his eyes still glued to the screen “You like her, don’t you?”

Luke hesitates, his mind racing. He likes Jordan, he likes Jordan a lot. There’s something about her-about her laugh, about her smile, about her energy, the way she carries herself. As he ponders for a response, his phone beeps, signaling a new message.

“She’s asking when you’re free” Jack informs him, his eyes scanning the screen.

“Today?” Jack says, his fingers flying across the keyboard, to type out the very question he said aloud.

“Wait. Jack don’t-” Luke tries to warn, but it’s too late. Jack hits send, a triumphant grin on his face.

Luke finally manages to snatch his phone back, his heart pounding as he stares at the screen.

Three little dots appear, then disappear, and for a moment Luke forgets how to breathe.

Then, a white bubble pops up, with a single word that sends his pulse racing: Sure.

Jack leans over Luke’s shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips “You’re welcome” he says his tone equal parts smug and supportive.

Luke playfully shoves Jack away, a genuine smile spreading across his face “Get out” he laughs, guiding his brother towards the door.

As the door clicks shut behind Jack, Luke leans against it, his eyes fixated on his phone, as his smile widens.

He quickly types out a message, asking where they should meet, and Jordan’s response comes almost immediately suggesting a cafe in New York City.

Luke responds: Sounds good. How’s 1pm?

Jordan replies: Works for me! I’ll send you the address. See you soon.

With a grin Luke types out Looking forward to it, and sets his phone down, a flutter of anticipation rises in his chest as he thinks about seeing her again.

He takes a deep breath, then pushes off the door, making his way to the bathroom, to start getting ready.

*****

Luke’s breath forms a cloud in the crisp New York air as he pushes open the door to the quaint cafe nestled on the corner of a bustling street.

His heart races with anticipation as he scans the room for Jordan.

He spots her at a table, her face lighting up with a smile, as she waves him over.

“Hey” Luke greets her sliding into the seat across from her

“Hi,” Jordan replies, her eyes sparkling.

They order their drinks- an ice tea for Luke and a matcha latte for Jordan, before easily falling into a conversation.

“Oh before I forget,” Jordan says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out a well-worn paperback and hands it to Luke. “You asked me to recommend something for you and uh this is one of my all time favorites” She explains

Luke smiles, turning the book over in his hand, and looks at the title The Great Gatsby

“Thank you Jordan, that was really kind” Luke expresses

“Well, you did promise me you’d actually read it” Jordan teases her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Luke chuckles setting the book down on the table, “I’ll dive into it as soon as I can”

They continue chatting, swapping stories and laughing at each other's jokes. They delve into various topics from their favorite movies, to their most embarrassing childhood memories.

"...and then I tripped, face-first into the cake," Jordan recounts, laughing at the memory. "My mom was horrified, but my brother couldn't stop laughing."

Luke chuckles, imagining a young Jordan covered in frosting. "Siblings, they never let you live anything down, do they?"

“Definitely not, do you have siblings?”

“Ya I uh, I got two older brothers” Luke tells

“Baby of the family?” Jordan teases.

“Something like that” He jokes

“Don’t worry I’m the baby of mine too” She says, eliciting a laugh from Luke.

They continue their conversation, shifting the topic to their favorite places.

At one point their hands brush against one anothers on the table sending a jolt of electricity through both their bodies. Luke looks up, his eyes meeting Jordan’s, and for a moment the rest of the world fades away.

They lean in, drawn to each other like magnets. Luke’s heart races as he inches closer, his gaze dropping to Jordan’s lips.

And just as they're on the brink of sharing what would most likely be a magical kiss, the loud buzzing sound of a notification on Luke’s phone startles them both.

Instinctively, he turns the phone face up, his brightness fully illuminated, and as he clears the random alert, his lock screen comes into view-a picture of him in his New Jersey Devils uniform, standing proudly on the ice.

Jordan’s eyes widen as she catches a glimpse of the image, and her heart skips a beat.

Luke notices her reaction and realizes his mistake.

"Alright, um, I guess you kinda caught me," he admits sheepishly. "I'm not a student. I, uh, I play in the NHL."

Jordan is silent for a moment, processing this newfound information. Luke laughs nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, most girls think it's pretty cool. Did you have a terrible experience with a hockey player or something? Promise not all of us are the same."

Jordan hesitates before speaking. "You play for the Devils?"

"Yeah," Luke confirms, studying her reaction.

"Don't tell me you hate hockey?" He somewhat jokes, hoping to god and beyond her answer isn't yes cus that's the biggest deal breaker in the world.

Jordan hesitates, her expression unreadable. "No I um, I don't hate. My, uh, my brother plays," she reveals, her voice soft.

Luke's brows furrowed in confusion. "Oh, cool. In the NHL?"

"Yeah," Jordan sighs.

"Who's your brother?" Luke asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Jacob Trouba."

Luke's jaw drops, his eyes widening in shock. "Your brother is Jacob Trouba?!" he exclaims, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.

"Guilty," Jordan half-jokes, trying to diffuse the tension.

Luke runs his hands through his hair, muttering under his breath, "What the fuck."

Jordan bristles at his reaction. "Hey, it doesn't really change anything."

"Are you kidding me?" Luke scoffs, his frustration mounting.

"What?" Jordan challenges, her own irritation rising to the surface.

"Your brother is the captain of the Rangers, and I'm a Devil," Luke points out, as if it should be obvious.

Jordan laughs, but there's an edge to it. "So?"

"So? What do you mean, 'so'?" Luke asks incredulously.

"What does it change?" Jordan counters, her eyes narrowing.

"Wh-what? Everything!" Luke sputters. "Why didn't you mention this?"

Jordan's face hardens. "Are you kidding me? I didn't mention my last name because I had no fucking clue you gave a shit about hockey. In case you forgot, you told me you were a college student. Failed to mention you're actually in the fucking NHL."

Luke tries to defend himself. "Yeah, but that's different. I didn't tell you cus I figured you be some kinda fan girl, which by the way would be a hell of a lot better than you being the sister to the captain of my biggest rival"

Jordan lets out a harsh laugh, "Rival? Oh My God! Are you serious? Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?"

"It's not ridiculous" Luke claims

Jordan scoffs "You're right it's not ridiculous, it's just fucking comical" She stands abruptly, grabbing her purse "Grow the fuck up, Luke"

With that, she turns on her heel and storms out of the cafe, leaving Luke sitting there, stunned.

The copy of The Great Gatsby still lies on the table, a painful reminder of the moment that had slipped away.

With a heavy sigh, Luke stands, tossing a few bills on the table to cover their drinks and picks up the book, scoffing at the irony of it all, as he walks towards the exit of the cafe, and steps back out onto the bustling streets of New York, a scowl plastered across his face, at the unfortunate turn of events.

*****

Luke returns to his and Jack’s apartment, his mood sour and his thoughts consumed by the disastrous end to his date with Jordan.

As he enters the living room, he finds Jack sitting on the couch, his phone propped up in front of him. The familiar voice of Quinn filters through the speaker, indicating that they're in the middle of a FaceTime call.

Jack looks up, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, Lukey! How'd the date go?"

"Shut up," Luke grumbles, plopping down on the couch beside Jack.

Quinn's voice chimes in, concern evident in his tone. "What's wrong, Luke?"

Luke sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Just didn't go well," he says vaguely, not wanting to delve into the details.

Jack and Quinn exchange a glance through the screen, their brotherly instincts kicking in. "Come on, man," Jack prods gently. "Talk to us."

Luke shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's not gonna work out, that's all."

"Why not?" Quinn asks, his brow furrowed.

"Just... not going to," Luke responds, his tone indicating that he doesn't want to discuss it further.

Jack and Quinn sense Luke's reluctance and decide not to push the matter. "Alright, bud," Quinn says, his voice sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but maybe things will still work out?"

"Not gonna happen" Luke mumbles, anger creeping into his voice.

Jack leans back on the couch, trying to lighten the mood. "It's probably for the best, come on, man. You don't gotta be hung up on some random girl when we're trying to win a Cup."

Luke nods, forcing a small smile. "Yeah." He stands up, stretching his arms above his head. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."

"Okay," Jack says, understanding in his eyes. "We'll be here if you need us."

Luke makes his way to his room, and decides to take a shower, hoping the hot water will help clear his head.

As the steam fills the bathroom, Luke's internal monologue takes over. He knows he doesn't need to be in a relationship, but the idea of having someone by his side isn't entirely unappealing.

His thoughts drift to his past relationships, or lack thereof. It seems like everyone around him has someone - Quinn with his girlfriend, Jack with his rotating roster of dates. But for Luke, finding a genuine connection has always been a struggle.

The last real relationship he had was back at Michigan, and even that ended in heartbreak when he discovered the girl was only using him for his family name. But now, with Jordan, he thought he'd finally found something real, something special and the fucking irony that for once it wasn’t his last name that ruined something, it’s stupid, it’s fucking stupid.

As he steps out of the shower and changes into comfortable clothes, Luke can't shake the feeling of loneliness that settles in his chest. He lies in bed, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, trying to distract himself from the ache in his heart.

It doesn’t work, he tosses his phone to the side, staring at the paperback book he threw on his nightstand.

Suddenly, his phone buzzes with a notification. For a brief, hopeful moment, he thinks it might be Jordan, reaching out to apologize or explain. But instead, it's a message in the Devils' group chat,

Reminder practice tomorrow 9 AM.

Luke groans, his disappointment palpable as he tosses his phone onto the nightstand and buries his head in his pillow.

A/N Part 3 coming soon

#luke hughes #nj devils #jack hughes #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #original story #crossing enemy lines #jacob trouba #ny rangers #rivalry

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nathaslosthershit · 7 months

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[3] Who is Birdie Hughes?

Mat Barzal x Hughes!sister

Part of the Birdie Hughes AU

Here is the link for the Masterlist

Summary: Why Birdie is out of the limelight and the 3 times the Hughes brothers talked about their big sister

The three Hughes brothers becoming huge hockey stars and seemingly getting those talents from their parents, was a story told over and over. 3 out of 3 Hughes boys ending up in the NHL at the same time truly showed the talent this family possessed. But there was a fourth child, the oldest and only daughter of the family, that wasn’t so much in the limelight. This was on purpose, Birdie never wanted too much attention on herself, and she thought that with three famous superstar hockey brothers, she wasn't interesting enough to warrant attention. It was shortly after Jack was drafted, and the family began to gain much more popularity, that they were all asked to be interviewed, when she sat them all down to talk.

“I don’t want to be interviewed.” She stated, firm but not unkind. “I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Well, Birdie, we will have someone there to help you out and talk you through it ahead of time.” Her dad said.

“I know that, and I know if I said anything stupid or whatever they wouldn’t include it. I just think I don’t need to add my input. They don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Sweetie, they asked you to do it because they want to know. They want to hear what you have to say as the oldest.” Her mom reasoned.

“Come on dude, you are part of the family, it would be weird if everyone but you were interviewed.” Jack argued. They didn’t understand, which wasn’t their fault. Birdie didn’t know how to articulate how she was feeling. She loved her family, she loved hockey, and she loved how her brothers were talented and had bright features ahead of them. What she didn’t love was the guilt she had always felt for quitting. She was good and she enjoyed playing, but she simply wasn’t competitive enough. She didn’t feel the need to practice day in and day out, she never stressed about whether her team was going to win because she simply enjoyed playing. After a particularly bad season had ended in high school, her coach had sat her down and berated her. Accusing her of not caring enough, of letting down her team. She vowed then and there that the only times she would be playing was for fun. She didn’t want big arenas full of fans and the best hockey equipment money could buy. She wanted the public rink and to play with her family for fun during the weekend and days they had off.

When Birdie had finally told her family she was done, they were confused. After a bit of pushback they finally decided that if she wasn’t going to be happy, then there was no reason to make her continue. She missed it, of course, and she felt terrible for quitting, but over time she felt less and less guilty.

She didn’t want to talk about that though, she didn’t want to explain. She also didn’t want to feel like she was less then because she chose a different life than what her brothers did.

“You can mention me, I don’t want to totally not exist from your lives publicly. I just don’t want to be interviewed right now.” She said firmly.

Silence filled the room, till they all began to nod.

“Also, just call me Birdie. I don’t need my name out there so some crazy fan can dox me or something.” This she passed off as a joke, but they all knew she was serious at the same time.

Ever since then, the public has known little about the mysterious first Hughes child. Comments here and there from the boys or their parents about their sister and daughter, but not much more. A childhood photo here and there, but since Luke’s draft day, there hasn’t been much of her, unless it was a hockey game she went to support her brothers at.

Over time though, this began to change.

It started with Jack.

Out of everyone, Jack hated interviews the most. He knows it has become somewhat of a joke and over the years he just couldn’t bring himself to care about hiding his annoyance. Luckily, Jack was only doing a small sit down to talk about his family. Nothing about a game he had played where they would ask if he was sad they lost or some shit.

“Now your whole family is very close it seems. How have they impacted your career and helped you grow?”

“Uh yeah, obviously we are close and they all mean the world to me,” what the fuck is he supposed to say? “Growing up with three siblings has honestly really shaped me as a person. I owe so much to my brothers and sister. Beyond hockey even. Having three people you are sort of forced to love and grow with has been a blessing, even if they are annoying. Birdie, my sister, has had the most impact I think. She has always been kind of a, um, mentor, I guess- I don’t really know how to say it. She helped me become a better person, I don’t even want to know who I would be if I didn’t have her to somewhat keep me in check growing up. She lives not too far from me, compared to the rest of my family, so when I moved to New Jersey she helped along the way. She also did so much to help me when I was younger. Driving me to practice, driving my friends to practice too. Also school, she is the smartest person in the world, I swear. Always gave me shit for tests I would do bad on, but would always offer to help me study. And I gave her every single essay to proofread, which led to more bullying from her, but I never got too bad of a grade after she put her input in.” He was actually smiling and laughing, which is not common for Jack during an interview.

“She must be your favorite huh?” The interviewer said laughing.

“Oh she is everyone’s favorite. Although we all know Luke is her favorite. That's only because he is the youngest. She calls him ‘her baby’, which she has said since she was 6 and he was an infant.”

Luke

“So, Luke, a lot of talk from Jack about your sister. Something about you being her favorite?” The interviewer asked.

“Oh, of course I'm her favorite. Not even a question. She loves to tell me how I will always be her baby brother, despite how old I get, which is kind of annoying.” he laughs.

“Most people would find it endearing.”

“Yeah until she visits you in college and starts yapping about how you are ‘her baby’ to all your new friends. They all thought it was hilarious and I had to put up with them calling me ‘baby Hughes’ for like a month.”

Quinn

“Tough game today, Quinn.” The reporter said, not really a question but he still waited for the captain’s response.

“Yeah. I have family here today so the loss is a little more upsetting.” He said somberly. He really hated interviews sometimes.

“Your brothers were here?”

“No, uh my sister. She surprised me last night. Didn’t know she was coming till then. She works in New York so I don’t get to see her as much as my brothers do. Something that I am jealous about.”

“Ah yes, the first Hughes child. You two being the oldest- are you guys close?”

What a weird question. But honestly, Quinn would rather talk about his sister than the game.

“Of course. It was just us for a little bit and I was more of her younger brother then, but once the other two came along we became each other’s confidant. I love it when she visits, and she is a better guest than my brothers so,” he laughs.

“You said she works in New York. Is she also involved in hockey like her siblings? Seems like a family trend so I wouldn’t be surprised.” The reporter said.

This pissed Quinn off and he knew he had to be careful with how he answered this. Being so close, he was the first person she told when she was thinking about quitting hockey. He knew why she felt awful and he hated it. He also knew that this question would upset her, so he had to do something to make his answer one that wouldn’t hurt her even more.

“No, she actually works at a museum. She is easily the smartest out of all of us.”

“Ah so sort of a ‘black sheep of the family’, right?”

“Not whatsoever. We all love her, and since I was young she has been like the coolest person to me. It's honestly hard to explain what she does because it is much more sophisticated than me playing hockey or you asking stupid questions for a living.” Honestly, he would have dragged the interviewer more, but was soon let go because they could tell he began to have an attitude that wasn’t very good for a captain.

“Fucking idiot” Quinn muttered after he left.

“What's wrong?” Birdie, who had waited outside for him to be done, had asked.

“Nothing, just- you are smart and talented, and everyone is so proud of you for what you do. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Quinn, what happened?”

“The interviewer was just stupid. I had said you were here and they asked if you were involved with hockey. When I said no they were rude about it. Then I got mad. Fuck them though. Your museum shit is much cooler.” “Cooler than being a professional hockey player that makes millions of dollars? I don’t know about that, Quinn.” She teased. She was used to it. It was worse when people who actually knew her had added their two cents in, but some random interviewer wasn’t going to upset her. She wouldn’t let it. “But thank you. I am not upset, I promise.”

“Love you, B.”

“Love you too, Q.”

#nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #Birdie Hughes au ☀️

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nariism · 11 months

Text

can't take my eyes off of you

pair. itoshi rin x gn!reader

content: fluff, strangers to lovers, slice of life, angst/comfort for one part, itoshi brothers' relationship isn't as awful

synopsis. rin has never been good at remembering faces. but as the seasons change and the years pass, he can't help but think that yours might be his favourite. or - the times rin couldn't take his eyes off you

wc. 8.5k

itoshi rin never misses a shot from 15 metres out.

he's absolutely positive he never has. nope. not even once. so when he ends up on the ground, chest heaving, sweat pouring, and eyes looking toward the sky, he's confused.

he replays the last couple seconds in his mind, hears his teammates cheering and certain victory is about to come. then he receives the ball, dribbles a little as he always does to kill the spin on it and gets ready to unleash another perfectly parabolic goal, when...?

he blinks up at the sky. looks to his coach sitting on the bench with a scowl on his face, to the score, 2-3, and he gulps loudly. had he scored they would have went overtime and he's confident he could have gotten another after that.

so here he is on the turf with his muscles aching from use. it’s early january and starting to snow; he has to blink the snowflakes out of his eyelashes. his teammates are pulling him up to his feet and clapping him on the back: "nice shot, itoshi," even though he missed. he supposes that in their eyes any play he makes would be godlike, but he feels vile being congratulated when he couldn't even score.

in his current haze, he can't seem to remember where his mind was when he shot. he just remembers the heavy clang of the ball against the metal post, cheering from the opposite side of the field, and the whistle. it takes him 32 minutes to discover why he missed. he's sitting in the changeroom, a towel draped over his head and waterbottle in tow, when it comes back to him.

itoshi rin doesn't pay attention to faces all that much. he could tell you what his mom looks like. what sae looks like ("annoying," he scoffs). he knows what his teammates look like - he has to so that he knows who to pass to in split second decisions. other than that, he doesn't bother.

he thinks hallways look too crowded when he tries to discern what people look like. he doesn't like feeling suffocated. he sits in his homeroom, obediently listens to the teacher, packs up, and leaves without sparing anyone a second thought. there's someone who always sits in front of him in class, but he can't put a name to the face. in fact, he can't seem to put a face to the rest of their body. the back of their head is familiar, the same one he’s been looking at for a long time now.

he's a bit stunned when he catches your eyes from the bleachers.

you're sitting there looking rather plain and talking to a different classmate he also can't name. you seem a little disinterested in the game, if anything. you're just another figure in the crowd. nothing more than one body among dozens. but for some reason he sees you, perhaps for the first time ever, and the breath is stolen from his lungs.

your eyes only meet for a moment, but the hair of a second that he looks at you is all it takes, because his ankle doesn't turn enough and he collides with the ball at an angle he doesn't mean to.

so he sits there, annoyed, leg shaking, heel tapping against the tile floor of the locker room. he's usually good at seeing through people and pretending they don't exist, but now all he can see when he closes his eyes is your stupid face and stupid smile and stupid expression and the way you jolted slightly in your seat when you met his eyes.

it irks him to no end.

you're restless in class. not because you're bored, or need to use the bathroom. not even because you had one too many cans of coffee from the vending machine before showing up to school today.

no, it's because, crap, why is rin glaring holes into the back of your head right now? without even looking back at him you can feel that he's leering at you with intense focus.

the teacher dismisses the class and you hurry to gather up your books into your arms hoping to escape his death stare, but much to your dismay he taps your shoulder lightly with the end of his pencil. you turn sheepishly in your seat, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"what's your name?"

what.

you stare at him blankly, slightly flabbergasted and unsure whether or not to feel offended that he doesn't know your name despite sitting behind you for the entire semester. in fact, rin has been in your class almost every single year since you were in grade school, not that he ever bothered to care apparently.

"um..." you drawl out lamely. he quirks a brow at you, and you lament, telling him your name begrudgingly. he seems oddly satisfied despite how bitter you sound.

"okay," he says, and goes back to putting his books into his bag. you blink at him incredulously.

"...o...kay?" you shift in your seat uncomfortably. he doesn't even dignify you with a response, slinging his bag over his shoulder and brushing past your desk without a second glance.

you fume silently from your spot as you watch his retreating back. you're sure he's heading to the field to train, and you have half a mind to stop him. but then your friends approach you, slightly starstruck, and ask you why the itoshi rin was asking for your name.

you think it's a little weird how excited they are over this. star or not, he's still an asshole.

the next day, rumours are already spreading like wildfire about you and rin. were you secretly lovers? dating? arranged marriage?

your head spins at the thought, not only because - um, ew? - but because this all sprang from a single ten second interaction. if you were dating, why on earth would he ask for your name?! regardless of all simple logic, your name is thrown around in quiet whispers and laughs.

you decide to sulk today at your desk, head in your arms as you rest your eyes and try to drown out the obvious staring from your friends and classmates. you feel as though they're waiting for you to come forward and say something, anything, to confirm their suspicions. sure, rin was quiet and didn't really bother with making friends, but seriously! all he did was ask for your name!

you're half asleep when he stops beside your chair. the smell of his cologne makes you dizzy (in a way that makes your stomach turn and - damnit, why does he have to be so attractive?!). you squint and side eye him, though he can't see it with your face buried in your arms.

"good morning," he deadpans, and the entire class erupts into hushed gossip. you whip up, back straight, and glare at him. he seems a little surprised at your reaction, blinking innocently and infuriatingly oblivious.

'read the room!' your expression screams at him, but he doesn't falter. not even a little. your cheeks burn when he stands there, staring, waiting for you to say good morning back to him.

you finally relent after a good 5 second pause. "...good morning, itoshi."

he again seems satisfied with your interaction and takes his seat behind you, his chair screeching impossibly loud as the entire room watches with bated breath.

you want to wither away and die on the spot and have the floor swallow you whole and- oh come on! why on earth is he burning holes into the back of your head again?!

it’s mid-spring.

rin goes about his days normally. he doesn't stop to say goodbye to anyone in class - including you - when the last bell rings, instead scooping up all his belongings and rushing out the door to get to the field first. he feels that saying good morning to you every day is sufficient enough; it scratches that itch in his brain that bugs him when he thinks about you.

he also thinks you're avoiding him for some reason, because whenever he sees you in the hallway at lunch you turn heel and bolt in the other direction, even though he knows your locker is only a couple down from his.

you're actually very pretty, he admits now that he can remember your face. it's annoying that it distracts him a little when he tries to pay attention in class, but he figures it's fine since he already knows how to introduce himself in english anyways.

but he doesn't like seeing your face, pretty or not, in a crowd. there, it's too distracting. in class it’s less of a problem, but on the field is an entirely different story. it gets to the point where it's almost aggravating, the way he wants to search for your eyes among the plethora of students who come to watch them.

your friends seem to admire him, he discovers, when they give him shy waves and bright smiles as he kicks the ball and glances in your direction. (so that explains why you show up to his games so often despite avoiding him like the plague in school, he thinks). once again he's instinctively looking for you, to meet your eyes, even though his kicking accuracy has dropped from 98% to 97% this season because of it.

he likes to watch you still in your seat when he looks at you. it strokes his ego in a way that football just can’t. his brain is good at instantly tuning out and ignoring all your friends who are vying for his attention.

you can tell he's looking at you. at you, specifically. it makes a shiver run down your spine.

you decide to be brave one day after a couple months spent agonizing over whether or not you should try and ignore him for the rest of your life. it's raining a little. your friends are all huddled under a fortress of umbrellas you built together. he thinks it's endearing in a way, and as he's taking a swig of water from his bottle, he ends up staring a little more intensely than he means to.

he must be acting too obvious because all your friends notice him looking their way and start clamouring again, waving in his direction trying to get him to say hello back. but he isn't paying them even half a mind.

you meet his eyes. you smile gently at him. for the first time ever.

he nearly chokes on his water.

it's a free period in class today, time given to allow the students to finish up whatever remaining work they have before the break. he watches you pull out a math textbook, then english, then japanese literature, and try to decide which you should do first.

he ends up scooting his chair over to your desk when you choose english.

"can you help me?" he asks. you look unconvinced, lips pursed. eventually you agree, because he looks uncharacteristically sad when you point out that he had the highest score in class on the last test.

he feels a little dumb sitting there pretending not to know the difference between an "-ou" and an "-au" sound, just to hear your voice. he’s already proficient enough in english, specifically to understand gameplay commentary from famous overseas teams. he doesn't even know what compelled him to pull his chair over here. his legs are too long to be cramped beneath the desk along with yours, and the table itself is too small for both your books. he stays anyways because he likes the way you sound trying to explain to him the basics that he already learned years ago.

("no, itoshi. here, this is how you spell it."

"you can’t just replace ‘c’ with ‘s’, that doesn’t even make sense here!"

"are you doing this on purpose?"

"itoshi. pay attention.")

he deflates a little when the period ends, because that means it's one period closer to officially being spring break and he won't get to see the way your face lights up when he looks at you for a whole week. he blinks when you extend your hand out to him. your phone is lit up, the contacts app open and the prompt "add new contact" is selected.

he freezes. he's so still you're afraid you might have just killed him.

you look like you're about to retract the offer, face flushed in embarrassment because ouch, getting rejected by itoshi rin? that's rough, buddy. but he stops you, one hand gently grabbing you by the wrist while the other snatches the phone from you with urgency that's amusing.

he hesitates when deciding what name to put for himself in your contacts before handing your phone back to you and you fluster a bit, wondering why he's suddenly on a first name basis with you even though all you've done is exchange polite smiles and glances every so often and say good morning for a couple months.

he leaves for a while after that, asks to go to the bathroom and doesn't return for so long that everyone is suspicious he's taking a massive dump. when he does come back, he saunters up to your desk, contemplates something with a strange expression on his face, then plops whatever he's holding onto your table and rushes to sit back down at his desk looking so flustered that you wonder if you’re dreaming.

it's a juicebox from the vending machines outside. there's a sticky note attached to it.

thanks -r

you don't muster up the courage to message him until three days into the break. it's so late that it almost feels mortifying and you're worried he'll think you forgot about him. in truth, he's essentially haunting you and your mind. him and his stupidly gorgeous face.

hi rin! how's your break? :)

only a few moments pass while you stare at your screen waiting for the grey typing bubble to pop up when he replies.

hi good

you aren't sure why you're surprised in the slightest that rin is the driest texter in the world. sinking into your mattress, you groan quietly. two texts in and the conversation dies. you poorly attempt to revive it:

what have you been up to?

he doesn't even respond fast this time, leaving you on delivered. you're bored and lonely and oh god. you kind of miss the way rin looks at you. okay, so maybe you’re a bit delusional thinking that he might have a soft spot for you. (you’re not.)

tossing your phone to the other side of your bed, you decide to stop moping around in your room and meet with your friends that had invited you out earlier in the day. your phone buzzes as you put your first foot out the door.

football

you huff silently, pocketing your phone without responding because he's being the worst at texting right now. rin waits patiently for a response, phone in hand as he drinks some water between pants. it's a nice day out. cicadas chirp loudly around him.

sae, who he'd been absentmindedly kicking a ball around with, approaches him. "who's that?" he asks while he rudely snoops the screen. rin twists it away from his sight.

"mind your business," he replies. sae just laughs, as all older brothers would.

"interested in someone? mind not on football lately? no wonder your passes have been so shitty today."

rin gives him a sharp glare. he's worried sae will never let him live it down if he brings you up, so he doesn't, and instead throws his phone back into his gym bag when he figures you've found him too boring.

not that he cares. not at all. not even slightly. no siree. (his hands are itching.)

he quickly realizes in horror that sae is right, his passes are shitty today, so half an hour later he calls it a day and abandons his horribly confused brother in the park to go home and think. it's late at night by the time you get home, kicking your shoes off and making a beeline for the shower. you finally decide to check your phone again and almost pass out.

hope your break is good kind of miss your dumb face

you're not sure what kind of evil possesses you to come here, but somehow you end up standing behind the fence at one of rin's spring break soccer games.

it's quieter than usual. you're not surprised - all of rin's adoring fans have gone home and stayed home for the break, and yet here you are watching him play as you always do. you feel like his doting partner and the thought makes your stomach churn.

he looks the best when he's on the field. his face is less serious. less doom-impending. his eyes are sharp on the ball, on his teammates, on the enemies, and he's quick on his feet. his muscles flex with every movement. you find yourself gawking at him rather unceremoniously.

at halftime, he plops himself onto the bench and gasps for air, catching his breath before he's inevitably sent back out to the battlefield. his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you.

"hi rin," you wave at him, handing him a fresh and icy cold water bottle. he accepts it without hesitation, downing almost the whole thing in one go.

"you came," is his curt observation when he closes the bottle back up. he had invited you, of course, but when you didn't reply he figured you weren't interested.

"might as well be here to show my support. school spirit and all," you muse with that smile on your face that drives him absolutely crazy.

"yeah. sure." he drapes a towel around his neck and the conversation dies there. you seem content just admiring him from where you stand, and he seems content letting this feed into his ego.

when the whistle blows again, you get ready to bid him goodbye until next week when you're back in school, but he stops you before you can get a word out.

"wait for me, okay? i won't take long."

you're a bit shocked but promise him you'll stay behind after the game. and you do so, sitting there on the bleachers obediently as the whole team walks off into the locker room. you stay there for a while, watching everyone else pack up to leave. some people hang back to meet their partners and friends on the field. it feels awkward being the one waiting for rin.

he emerges from the building 15 minutes later. his hair is dripping wet from his shower and he's dressed rather sloppily considering he's usually prim and proper. there's a gym bag slung around his body. it’s unfair how pretty he looks even when he’s dressed so mundanely.

"hi," he greets you on the field, and he doesn't elaborate more than that. you seem dissatisfied.

"so, what's up?"

he makes a funny face, you think. it's always hard to tell what exactly he's feeling, but he almost looks... embarrassed? his eyes divert somewhere off to the side as if he's finding it hard to meet your curious gaze.

"let's get food," he finally says, still unable to look at you. if he had, he wouldn't have missed the way you bristle at the suggestion. and although you had plans to sit around in your room and relax today after this, you find it hard to deny him.

so you end up at a casual spot. the only thing on the menu is variations of onigiri that he eyes disdainfully. you laugh at him. "are you sure you want to eat here? we can find somewhere else," you tell him. he was the one who chose this place, after all. you dont mind following him around some more if he doesn't seem interested.

"here is fine," is all he replies with before he steps into the little shop.

you've never seen the way he eats, but you're not surprised that he doesn't speak when he does. he just shovels the rice into his mouth without skipping a beat, mouth closed while he chews, and looks at you occasionally as if making sure he’s not just hallucinating that you’re sitting across from him.

you're not sure how to talk to him. everytime you try the words seem to die on the way out because holy shit he's insanely breathtaking. so instead you eat in silence with him; not exactly what you'd call an ideal first time hanging out, but you're comfortable sitting there with him nonetheless. you liked that about him.

he walks you home after that. you miss the way he jumps out of his skin when your knuckles brush together as you walk. you're not sure how to say goodbye to him when he stops a few feet away from your front porch.

he's looking at you again, in the way that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you wonder if he feels the same when you look at him. (he does.)

"rin," you call out and it sounds just a little breathless. maybe he's just imagining it.

what he doesn't imagine is your sudden lunge forward, a soft kiss on his cheek, and then the front door slamming behind you before he can even blink. he stands there for a bit - completely, utterly, hilariously frozen in place.

sae leans against the doorframe that night, arms crossed over his chest and an annoyingly amused expression on his face as rin lays there, face down in bed and buried under the blankets. the younger brother looks up, eyes pleading with sae not to ask what happened. of course, he does anyways.

“i’m guessing things went well today?”

rin screams silently into his pillow.

when school comes back around, you settle into a routine. rin meets you at your locker in the morning, watches as you shuffle your books into place, then walks to class with you. at the end of the day, he takes you home because "it's raining out," or "don't you want my coat?" or best yet: "i would be sad for you if you got mugged."

he likes this routine a lot. he gets to see your face more often since he usually spends most of the day just staring at the back of your head. the days seem to blur past him faster and faster as graduation approaches, but he’s blissfully ignoring the passage of time just to bask in your presence a little longer. summer passes in a whir. you take up so much of his memory space that he starts seeing you in his dreams. it drives him insane.

it’s late autumn. he feels like he’s on the precipice of something big, something grand, but he can’t put his finger on it exactly.

rin is halfway through a bite of a pork bun when-

"are you guys dating?"

you squeeze your juicebox a little too hard and it squirts down your throat. rin looks at you funny while you cough. his leg bumps against yours mindlessly under the desk where he has decided is your usual lunch spot. together.

"no," he replies simply. the guy standing at your desk seems to chipper up.

"okay, then, do you have any plans later?"

you don't respond at first, because you're almost positive he's looking at rin when he asks (because who wouldn't be? he's the star of the school and every guy wants to be his right hand man). but he isn't looking at rin. he's looking directly at you.

rin's eye twitches.

"yes," he replies for you just as you start to notice the guy is still waiting for an answer. your classmate looks unconvinced.

"i thought you guys weren't dating?"

"we are," rin corrects quickly even though not 10 seconds ago he was saying the opposite.

okay. that kills you. he watches with a glimmer of humour as steam leaves your ears. you swat at his arm. "n-no! we are not!" you manage to stammer out. you can't help but notice that rin frowns at this, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

"i was kind of hoping, if you don't mind... did you want to grab dinner with me after school?" your classmate shifts in his spot and sheepishly rubs his arm. rin's eyes tear between you and him. there's a gross feeling of jealousy growing inside the pit of his stomach when you look like you're considering it.

he chooses to ignore the pure look of pity in your eyes, as if you were looking at a lost child, and instead sulk in his spot, back sliding down the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

the guy is practically pleading for your number in seconds, and while you don't know him all that well you relent anyways because, well, what's the worst that could happen?

that's how you end up 6 hours later at a place much too fancy for your liking. it's cramped and stuffy and orchestral music is blaring over the speakers. you're pretty sure you've only seen places like this in western movies.

you suddenly miss the quiet comfort that sitting with rin brings you. the realization tears through your heart violently.

your classmate is trying way too hard to impress you, you think to yourself, because every word out of his mouth sounds like a brag. the highest grades, first choice university, tallest in his family; you're getting bored to death listening. so you slide your phone out while he's in the bathroom, stamp out "S-O-S" to rin, and hide it away again.

rin is out the door in minutes, leaving sae in the living room confused and wondering whether or not he should press continue and finish whatever horror movie is playing on his own.

your classmate insists on paying for your meal. you decline with fervour, worried that you'll feel a little indebted to him for paying for such an expensive dinner - one certainly too expensive for students - and pay for yourself. he even offers you a ride home which you also turn down because you know rin is a few minutes out.

he considers it a successful date, to which you have to kindly explain that while you had fun, you’re not interested. he seems angry when he slams the door to his car, muttering about how he shouldn’t have messed around with ‘rin’s property’. you seethe.

there's a particularly chilly breeze tonight. you end up left out in the cold, clothes thin because you were told to dress for the occasion, shivering where you sit on the street bench. rin tosses his coat over you.

"have fun?" he asks sarcastically. you glare at him and he averts his jealous gaze.

"as if," you bite back. he doesn't respond after that, only tugging you to your feet and putting an arm around you. he's walking in a direction away from your house, but you allow him to drag you along anyways.

"was your night any better than mine?" you ask him when he stops in front of a convenience store. he’s reading the advertisements for popsicles despite the cold nipping at your skin.

he thinks for a moment. "no, my brother was being a pain."

you laugh a little at this. "i thought he was going back to spain soon for the next season. don't you want to spend some time with him?"

"no." not when you're here, he wants to say, but he doesn't. you snort at his quick answer.

he's staring too intensely at you again - he actually realizes it this time - but for some reason he can't look away. it's always been like that with you, ever since he caught your eyes from the crowd in that very first game. you’re like a plague on his mind.

his expression contorts a little and you giggle. the sound makes him feel like he can't breathe. suffocating, but not in the same way as when he’s walking through a crowd. drowning, but he can’t get enough, drinking in everything about you even if it kills him.

snow drifts down and catches in the loose strands of your hair. the first snow of the season. he didn’t know it was possible, but you somehow look even prettier.

"why are you looking at me like that, rin?"

"you're pretty to look at."

"yes, i know-" because he tells you that all the time, "-even though i also have a quote-unquote 'annoyingly distracting face'."

he only nods in response. your cheeks grow warmer when he starts closing the distance between you, twisting to meet your eye level. your heart is ready to pound out of your chest when he's so close you can feel the exhale that leaves his mouth. it wavers.

"it is annoyingly distracting. how can you expect me to just ignore you?" he asks, but it doesn't sound like it's a question directed to you. the way he's looking at you, eyes impossibly soft and face scrunched up in confusion, makes your knees weak. he doesn't look at anyone else like that. he just doesn't.

"you're getting too close, rin," you whisper but there's no attempt to back away from him.

"i don't care," he grumbles.

it’s late autumn when you have a comically terrible first date that rin never stops bringing up, even years later. it’s late autumn when he hears how his heartbeat roars in his ears when he looks at you. it’s late autumn when he realizes how much he’s in love with you.

he kisses you first.

it’s spring, and your graduation day.

well, it's also rin's graduation day, but one of the games in his competitive league got moved to today so you're forced to attend alone. you had tried to convince him: "rin, please, you only get one high school graduation in your life. can't you miss this game?" sounding a little exasperated. he looked at you almost with offense at the very idea of skipping out on a game.

it upsets you that he won't be here celebrating with the rest of the seniors (what you mean to say is with you, because itoshi rin couldn't care less about those people he can't even name). you're a little mopey for the better part of the morning, feeling only slightly better when your friends find and join you in the crowd. the ceremony is supposed to start soon and your heart aches.

why you feel so hurt is beyond you. maybe you're just upset over the reminder that soccer will always be rin’s first love, but it's not fair. this was supposed to be a special day for both of you, and he bailed.

you're about to follow your group of friends into the gymnasium where everyone is to be seated when a hand captures yours. you startle before the rough and calloused skin soothes you. familiar. rin.

he's out of breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with each inhale he rakes in as if he'd just sprinted here. and though he'd never tell you, he did sprint here after feeling all too guilty at the game and leaving halfway through. he smells like sweat, and he's not dressed even slightly for the occasion, but he's in front of you holding flowers and looking extremely guilty.

"rin?" you balance him with your hands on his shoulders as he doubles over to catch his breath. "what happened to your game?" his stomach turns when he realizes you don’t sound even an ounce mad at him, only slightly confused and worried. how did he ever get so lucky?

you try to pry but he opts to ignore your questions. he looks at you through his lashes, completely focused, gaze sharp and loving and so intense you're afraid you'll melt into a puddle. it's only then that you realize:

oh. oh. rin is choosing to be here. here, with you, and not playing soccer.

"congratulations," he finally pants out and shoves the flowers into your arms with haste. this makes you laugh and his heart throbs in his ribcage. oh god, he might actually pass out. you look too nice draped in your graduation gown and cap. the school colours always did suit you.

"rin, it's your graduation too," you remind him. he feels your free hand cup his face and guide him back up to look at you. you're so close he can practically feel your laugh rumbling in his own lungs. you kiss him gently and he falls apart.

it’s been over a year since he first learned your name, but he worships it anyways, repeating it over and over against your lips.

"congratulations," he sputters again clumsily when you pull away from him.

"congrats," you echo.

when you choose to go to university, rin follows.

"are you sure you want to go there?" you ask him while you sit on the floor of your childhood home and pack your things neatly into a box. rin lounges on your bed, watching. "i'm pretty sure there's other schools that have better soccer teams than this one..."

"shut up," he bites before sliding off the bed and helping you stuff things into the moving box. "any team i'm on is the best."

you smile at him because you know what he really means is that he'll worry so much about you if you're apart that he won't be able to focus on soccer anyways. but if you ever told him you knew that he would deny it as if his life depended on it, so you keep your little truth unspoken.

"did you find a place yet? or will you just be staying in the dorms like me?"

he grimaces. "don't you think the dorms are a little unsanitary?" you only laugh at his mild disgust, as you always do when he's being a drama queen.

"come on, it's the college experience!"

"the college experience is... going to college," he argues weakly.

"yeah but you meet more people that way. so, you did find a place then? where is it?"

his eyes tear away from you as he closes the box. "if you're staying in the dorms, so am i."

you blink before laughing again. it makes his heart race. "what, are you jealous that i want to make some friends? i can't keep talking to you and only you forever, y'know."

he only pouts slightly at this, looking away with a red tinted face. "... what if that’s what i want?"

you drop the book you're about to pack in surprise, eyes a little wide. he groans when he realizes his error, a grossly smug grin spreading across your cheeks. “you mean that?”

“no, i take it back. rot.” he quickly refuses.

you look like you’re about to open your mouth to protest, so he reaches over and pinches your cheeks together to stop you. you glare at him softly, mumbling something unintelligible with your lips squished up from his fingers.

“sorry, i didn’t catch that?” he looks annoyingly victorious.

you swat his hand away from your face, sighing. “i’m just saying, it would be cool to meet some new people, maybe even have mutual friends!”

“i have enough friends.”

“rin, i’ve seen the contacts list on your phone.”

“ouch.”

you merely giggle in response, standing and grabbing the moving box into your arms. rin quickly follows, snatching it from your hands as if he’s offended you didn’t ask him to take it for you. he places it among the countless other boxes in the corner of your room, ready to be moved tomorrow morning.

your room is so empty, it fills you with quiet sadness. you grew up here. know every nook and cranny like the back of your hand. know where the spiders like to make their webs. know every suspicious stain you made as a kid.

rin seems to notice your change in demeanour, because in seconds he’s standing in front of you with his brows furrowed. “what’s wrong?” he asks and you can’t help but smile at how attentive he is.

“nothing, it’s... it’s stupid, i guess. i’ll just miss this place. feels like the end of my childhood, you know? moving out of my parents’ and into the real world, alone.” you don’t realize you’re rambling until you finish, flushing a bit in embarrassment. “sorry, i should stop.”

his head tilts to the side and confusion is written all over his face. his hand comes to your cheek, thumb grazing the skin gently. your heart nearly stops in your chest.

“but you’re not alone.”

there’s a stifling silence in the room. he’s waiting for a response from you, but you’re not sure what to say. your room is only illuminated by a couple lamps, one on your night table and the other on your desk. they cast an orange glow on rin’s face that makes him look ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven itself. and his gaze doesn’t waver, soft and filled with adoration as it always is even though you’re nearly in tears from the nostalgia ripping through you.

you swallow the lump growing in your throat. “what if that changes? what if we change?”

“why would we change?”

“i don’t know, rin. don’t you think the person you were in highschool is gonna be a lot different than who you will be a few years from now?”

he thinks for a moment, eyes finally leaving yours and drifting to the floor as he contemplates. there’s a finality in his expression when he studies your face closely again. “maybe. but i know i could never look at anyone else the way i look at you. that’s something that could never change.”

your breath hitches so loud you’re sure he can hear it too. there’s not an iota of dishonesty in his voice, not a single tell that says he doubts his claim in the slightest. “how can you be so sure?”

there’s silence again. deafening. you can hear your own blood rushing in your ears. then he kisses you, the same as he always does, but there’s something else behind it.

“i love you,” he tells you for the first time. three words reserved only for you. three words that he’d been waiting for the right moment to tell you. three words burning in his mind since the first time you took his breath away, though back then he tried his best not to entertain the idea. but now he’s never been so sure of it. “don’t you know that?”

both his hands cup your face now as you blink at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, totally speechless. he all but drags you into his body, arms draped around you and holding you closer than you think he ever has before. he sighs in relief when you nod.

“yeah, i-...” your arms circle his waist as you melt into him. “i love you too.”

he knows. he’s always known, just as you have.

it’s really no surprise when rin gets scouted for a team in europe. france, to be exact.

you’re in your third year of university, and though you love rin and know that he loves you, you can’t help but have some doubts about long distance. you still have god knows how long until you graduate completely, and it’s not exactly like you can uproot your whole life and education just to follow him all the way to france.

the prospect of asking him to stay and turn down his dream doesn’t seem all that much better, so you stand in the airport at 2am with him waiting for his flight. it’s an abysmal hour to be waiting for the plane, but it was the only one that would get him there at a reasonable hour to ease his jet lag.

“i’ll call you,” is the last thing he tells you when he kisses your forehead, the words mumbled into your skin like a promise. it makes your heart sink, and you can’t find a response in your throat that wouldn’t immediately turn into a sob.

the gate closes behind him. it’s only been seconds and you’re yearning to look into his eyes one last time.

life goes on as usual, but not. there’s a rin shaped hole in your life in places you never considered you would miss him in. you feel the heavy weight of his absence when you wait in line for your starbucks order, where he would usually stand and judge other people’s drinks with you. you feel it when you instinctively reach for two boxes of juice instead of one when you stop at a convenience store. you feel it especially when you try to stay awake a little later, a little longer, just a bit more, waiting for him to come home from his practices but failing when the time difference catches up to you.

it’s an ungodly hour of the night when your phone buzzes by your head. you groan quietly, hand thudding as you reach to turn it off until you freeze in place. there’s a picture on the screen - it’s of rin. you stole it when he was looking particularly cute while he watched you study in the library one day, and though he was incessant that you erase it from existence you couldn’t help but make it his contact photo much to his dismay.

you blink the grogginess from your eyes when you accept his call. he frowns when you flinch, adjusting to the sudden brightness of your screen in your otherwise very dark room.

“did i wake you?” he asks, brows furrowed, even though he can tell right away. he’s been craving to hear your voice all day. sue him for being a little selfish.

you huff with laughter. “no, it’s fine. i was waiting for your call.”

he gulps loudly when he hears how genuinely happy you are to hear from him. you were always so patient even with his short temper and busy schedule. you were too good to him.

“sorry. i know it’s late, i just…” he goes quiet for a moment, “i missed you.”

you nod, head sinking further into your pillow. he smiles when the duvet pulled over your body drowns you. it must be cold in japan right now. “i miss you too, rin.”

“is school okay?”

“a little boring, but i’m working on a proposal for my final year so hopefully it picks up soon. how has football been?” you ask him despite watching all the streamed games you possibly can. you know what a superstar he’s become, taking PXG by storm and making a name for himself among the starting lineup.

“busy. tiring. i miss you,” he says again, distracted.

there’s a rustle of wind that blows his bangs into his eyes. he quickly swipes the hair away, but you seem completely enamoured by him. he’s sitting outside, probably on the balcony of his incredibly pretty and expensive european style apartment. you can hear the faint chatter of people and cars passing just below him.

“i wanted to show you something,” he coughs out when there’s a beat of silence that passes on both ends of the call.

your eyes narrow from the brightness again when he flips the camera, adjusting you over the ledge of his balcony so you can see over it and across the streets of paris. the sky looks beautiful from this view, deep pink and gold as the sun sets.

“you’re so lucky,” you sigh contentedly. he was always good at reminding you that he was still thinking about you.

he blinks at his screen, eyes drifting away from the sky to settle on your image. he could watch a thousand sunsets on his own anyways. you’d always be prettier. he takes the opportunity while his camera is flipped away from his face to look at you, to examine you closer, to see if you’re really doing fine in japan, without your scrutinizing eyes calling him out.

“i’ll show you one day,” he blurts out. “in person, i mean.”

there’s laughter on the other end of the call, music to his ears. he can feel his body melting in relaxation from the sound alone. “only if you pay for the ticket,” you jest.

rin rests his head in his arms, leaning against the stone railing of his balcony. his phone stays extended past the barrier, held still so you can admire the sunset from a different part of the world. he suddenly feels violently homesick, even though you sleep under the same moon as he does.

you take note of the hush that befalls him, mirth dying in your throat. “rin. turn the camera back around.”

“why?” his voice is quiet again.

“i want to look at you.”

there’s another pause, and you think that he’ll be stubborn some more like he always is, but to your surprise the camera flips back around so that you can see him. the lower half of his face is still buried in his arms and his eyes shift away from you. the setting summer sun paints him in warm light.

you smile. “come back home to visit soon, okay?”

‘you’re my home,’ he wants to say. he doesn’t, because he’s worried he’ll throw up.

“right. soon.”

“hey,” your voice is soft and comforting. he almost wants to cry, but itoshi rin never cries. his focus shifts back to you and your expression is unwavering. adoring. “want to hear what the lady in front of me ordered at starbucks today?”

“lay it on me.”

“grande iced matcha with two pumps of raspberry syrup, four pumps of cinnamon dolce syrup, and cinnamon topping. she swore by it too, said it tasted like one of those fancy jelly-filled donuts you get from a bakery.”

he sneers in amusement. “sounds terrible.”

you both laugh, and for a moment it feels like he never left. he watches you roll around in bed a bit, flipping over so that the moonlight illuminates your face. his breath catches in his throat looking at you, so peaceful and warm. he wishes he was there to hold you. homesickness creeps up his spine again.

“whenever you come back…” your voice is gentle. loving. “i’ll be waiting for you with open arms.”

he stands up straight, eyes dragging all over your tired face through the facetime call. how was it possible for someone to be so breathtaking even in the dim light of their bedroom, expression heavy with exhaustion and smile fading with the lull of sleep? he’s so fucking lukewarm, allowing himself to be so enchanted with you when all you're doing is resting.

“i love you,” he tells you anyways. not like the words even needed to be uttered when he’s looking at you so longingly. that’s something distance could never change.

you were right, rin thinks. a lot of things had changed. his 27th birthday has come and gone, he’s about to finish his first contact for a professional team, and he’s packing up all his things to move back to japan. permanently.

despite all the moving parts in his life, you’ve remained constant. the person he can always depend on. the person who picks up his calls no matter the hour. the person who’s been sending him care packages with all his favourite japanese snacks that he so dearly misses.

some part of him is relieved that you’ve stuck with him all these years despite the painfully few and far between visits home, and the other part of him is crawling with the idea of not wasting another breathing second being apart from you.

it’s why when you meet him at the airport, all smiles and hands and kisses, he decides that he’s had enough of waiting.

“rin, wait-” you’re staring at him completely bewildered, as if you had just imagined his words. made them all up in your head.

“marry me,” he insists again. he doesn’t even have a ring. he’ll kick himself later for it, but right now you look too beautiful.

oh god. you might collapse. he’s boring into you so intensely, eyes sharp and serious but there’s so much emotion swimming in his expression that you would fall over if he wasn’t holding you upright by the waist.

there’s a crowd starting to form, because ‘oh wow, honey, look. it’s itoshi rin’ and ‘is he proposing?’ and ‘is now a bad time to ask for an autograph?’

he doesn’t care.

rin thinks you’re taking too long, or maybe he’s just being too impatient, because he opens his mouth to say more. but he’s cut off, perhaps by the single greatest word known to man.

“yes,” you breathe.

you’re in his arms in seconds, pressed so tight into his chest you could suffocate. you’re giggling regardless, bubbly and shaky and it makes the heart in his chest squeeze painfully with how much he missed you.

you still smell like the brand of shampoo you liked to use even before he left for europe. he can feel your shoulders trembling against him as you babble on and on about how happy you are with laughter on your tongue. he kisses you, and suddenly he’s eighteen again. it feels like home.

your hand reaches up and his heart leaps into his throat when you brush the hair out of his eyes, fingers delicately ghosting over his forehead. “of course i’ll marry you.” your voice is quiet, words for his ears only.

your sweet moment is short-lived, because there’s paparazzi surrounding you in seconds. they bombard you with question after question and you shrink away despite being abnormally used to the press. you are, after all, standing beside one of the most talented soccer players in japan. you realize he’s being unusually quiet, even for him, and when you turn to look at him again your breath catches.

he’s not paying anyone else a lick of attention. he’s never been good in the spotlight. never been good with faces. never been a people pleaser. in fact, you’ve joked multiple times that he has a special talent for ignoring people and exuding ‘leave me the hell alone’ energy. but he’s always looked at you the same, and you count yourself lucky that he saw you that day. had he made that shot, would your lives be any different? or would you always just be the person who happened to sit in front of him in class?

it doesn’t matter. none of it matters when he’s looking at you with his lips tugged into an impossibly wide grin for a man of his nature, eyes soft and face a little red. you nearly have the wind knocked out of your lungs.

he presses your foreheads together. “i’m home.”

you laugh. he’s heard it a thousand times, but he could never get tired of it.

“welcome home, rin.”

it’s starting to snow outside, but that’s okay. you always looked so pretty with snowflakes dusting your hair, anyways.

#— whispers in the wind ✧#itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #reader insert #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #slice of life #bllk fic

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viennajoell · 7 months

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Can you make an imagine about a younger Hughes sister (like 13-14) feeling left out or just unappreciated by her family. Something like the song Matilda or little freak by harry styles or yoyok by Taylor swift??

also I love your work

Matilda

Notes: inspired by Matilda by Harry styles

Also I hate this

It's 10 pm and I'm just getting home from my volleyball game.

Of course my parents didn't come. They never do, their to "busy" watching my brothers.

My teammates and coaches notice that every time i look into the stands i get quiet and in my head. I act like I don't care.

"So you tie up your hair and you smile like its no big deal"

But in reality I'm more mad than sad. They went to every single one of my brothers game why can't they come to one of mine?!

Ever i since I quit hockey and my brothers all went pro I've been pushed off to the side.

My brothers didn't care about school what so ever so they got praised for just barley passing classes while I have A's in all my classes and all i get is a "good job"

Where's my hug and ice cream??

My friends say I'm being dramatic and that they love my parents.

It's not that I don't its that I'm being treated differently and not being appreciated.

So you know what i did...

I stopped caring.

I stopped trying to get their attention.

I didn't answer calls from my brothers because they just stand behind my parents and act like nothing is wrong.

"Y/N! You have to answer your brothers calls" my mom Ellen yells. "Why?" I scoff. "Cause you haven't answered any of them for months" she replies. "Okay" I reply, rolling my eyes and walking out the door for school.

I had a test and i aced it. But instead of telling my parents to try and get some sort of validation i kept it to myself and continued doing that.

I continued getting better at volley ball after my parents repeatedly told me I would regret quitting hockey and would hate volleyball.

But here i am four years later playing volley ball for OSU.

"You don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up"

I didn't tell a soul where i was committing to.

Of course people knew i had offers but i never announced where i was going.

The day I turned 18 i packed my stuff and left without a word.

My phone was blowing up from my parents.

Why do they care now when its to late?

"You don't have to be sorry, no”

#luke hughes #jack hughes #umich hockey #luca fantilli #mark estapa #ethan edwards #adam fantilli #new jersey devils #quinn hughes #Hughes reader

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kenlvry · 1 year

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omg i just read the “getting caught making out” and was wondering if you could do it with craig’s gang aswell🙈

craigs gang getting caught making out

an: HELLOO!! i am back from vegas, my brother wasted 300 on gambling and i have never been so motivated to kill someone, also i tried wine and.... yeah idk how to feel oh also i am not making jimmy bc like i said idk how to potray him im so sorry :( also like always 16-17

clyde

hes so mad at you rn, how could you!! while he was out in the field sweating his ass off you were on the bleachers talking so gently to a boy.

he looked over to you and the boy had his arm wrapped around you while you laughed at his joke. but thanks to you he played well, out of jealousy and anger. after the game that they won, cheers could be heard and only then did you realize you literally missed your boyfriend's game. so now here you two were beside the bleachers making out, after the game he sulked and you reassured him with a kiss but one thing lead to another and you two are making out.

your back pressed against the metals while his hand hold your head so you don't feel the metal, his other hand cupping your face holding you close, it was slow and wet, he kissed so well you loved it when you maked out with him or kissed him he was always so experienced.

since you two were on the side bleachers that was far away from everything nobody could really see, stan and craig was searching for him because coach wanted to take a team photo for him to display, searching everywhere and giving up sitting on one of the bleacers. "dude where the heck is he" stan groaned leaning backwards on his seat. then they heard small pants

they looked at each other in somewhat shocked "are they doing what i think their doing?" craig said and peeked thinking it was some perv doing nasty shit but it was his dear friend making out with his girlfriend "clyde?" stan called out and you two jumped staring at the other two, stan looked annoyed and sighed loudly "just say yr jealous stan" clyde winked tilting his head to stan "celebrations can wait, coach needs you" craig said and went down pulling him by his clothing basically dragging him "call me babe!" you laughed lightly knowing if you dont call he'd show up infront of your house

tolkien

you loved this moment right here, you and tolkien making out without a care in the world. it started with him asking you to come over, thinking he wanted to play games or something but when you arrived he wasn't there, checking every corner still no tolkien. then you checked the backyard and there he was in a suit standing while holding flowers and behind him a table for two people.

you laughed at the sudden surprise, him coming to you grabbed your hand and kissed it "mlady" you laughed again at the fancy name he gave you. walking to the table "if i knew we were having a dinner date I would've worn something more fancy" , he wanted to go somewhere more fancy but this town is far from fancy so he resorted to the next best thing. he pulled your chair and you sat while he slowly pushed it.

it was the cutest thing ever, you two had a nice time and before you know it you two were making out , it was so romantic his kisses were delicate. he held your waist gently and the other holding your back so you don't fall over from him leaning you downwards trying to be romantic, your hands held his face not breaking the contact. he holds you so dear and making out with him makes you feel like you two are a married couple growing old tgt

but before you could feed onto your delusions even more, you could hear a familiar voice calling out on tolkiens voice, it was his mom and dad. you both quickly broke the kiss and greeted them, tolkien said they weren't gonna come home until tmr but they stopped by to grab something and you thought you were going to be bribed 10 million dollars to break up with him but you saw them converse with smiles on their face.

leaving the house with a "invite her for dinner next time sweetie" you blushed a little "now where did we left off?" he said and pulled you for another kiss

tweek

boy oh boy does he look stressed rn, he is a cash register, waiter and the one making the coffee at the same time . every minute his twitching worsened, you laughed at how cute he was from the glass door, entering with a ding caused by the bell, tweek shouted "welcome to t-tweek bros!" from the counter while making coffee and when he saw who came he smiled so brightly

keeping professional and trying his best to not hug you tightly while crying about the shitty customers he just smiled while waiting for you to order. "just a water babe, dont wanna stress you out more" you smiled and he smiled back making the water and giving it to your table "how long til your shift ends?" you question while drinking your water "ngghh five minutes!" you hummed at the answer and he walked away

his shift finally ended so now here you two were making out in the break rooms, it was suppose to be him complaining abt the customers today but i guess he had other plans, it was sloppy, it seem as though he didnt even want to kiss you. you smiled at how rushed he was and pulled away, your current position is being pinned onto his locker while he cups your face, your hand on his shoulders pushing him. he looked slightly confused on why you pushed him but you flipped him over so he was pinned against the locker you being shorter grabbed his face and tip toeing to kiss him and he just hold your waist not knowing were else to place his hands

when it seemed like it was getting steady and he wasn't twitching as much the doors opened with a bitchy voice followed "tweek your shift ended right? lets pl- the fuck" tweek jumped at the sudden intrusion " argh! this isn't what it looks like! i mean it is! i mean!" you placed your hand on his shoulders and the rest of the boys walked in "damn tweek i didn't know you were kinky like that" kenny said making the others laugh "shut up!" tweek said as you all walked out, they continued to tease tweek abt this for a couple of days (by they i mean cartman and sometimes jimmy) until you forced them to stop, tweek always kiss at home now, specifically your house, hes too nervous someone will disturb you two.

craig

you dont know how it lead to this but uh here you two are in his kitchen making out... i know how though. you came over to hang out with him......maybe you shouldve come a little later bc rn red racer is on and he refuses to talk to you until after red racer is over. that show is sooooooooo boring to you, you can't say that though.

and damn how long is this show on?? its been 20 minutes now and you two are halfway through the episode. attempting to talk to him again he shushes you and says "wait until red racer is over" for the 100th time you sigh knowing you have to wait even though craig knew impatience is one of your strong personalities.

you decide to go to the kitchen to relieve your thrist, opening the fridge literally eyeing it for a drink and opening and closing it hoping a drink will appear. finally you see water right infront of your fucking eyes,you drink some then put it back, closing the fridge and when your about to turn around someone hugged you. the smell of the cologne was easy to identify, craigs dad.

jk its craig , he wouldn't let go even if you tried, "craig." you said sternly in defeat "sorry, red racer is over now what did you want to talk about?" laying his head in your shoulder, his breath on your neck. you sighed and just when you were about to run he flipped you over to the counter, he picked you up by your thighs and placed you on the counter his hand trapping you in "my parents aren't coming home for awhile" he winked "so?" you said in confusion and he just kissed you so yeah now you two are making out

his kisses was lovingly, and sensual... although he doesn't seem experienced he's good at kissing, you put your hand on his shoulders and his hands now on you waist one of them travelling further down to your thigh. as you two were enjoying the moment the door opened, quietly though. you two of course didn't hear it and kept making out and you hear something drop. you two looked over at the door to see almost every boy in the 4thgrade (the relevant ones ofc) butters has dropped his book and was in shock he ran home muttering smthn abt we can only kiss after marriage.

everyone just stood there staring at each other "so are you js gonna stand there?" craig broke the silence "do you want us to come to you then?" cartman said in a sarcastic tone which made craig flip him off "leave" and they left, wow. "isn't that too rude? poor them" you said pitifully looking back at the door. "forget them, your focus is me, where were we hm?" he said as his hands gently pulled you to look in his direction.

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topguncortez · 10 months

Text

Coach's Kid | Jake & Shy!Wifey

Opposites Attract Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: Jake tries his hand at the whole coaching thing, which goes pretty well. . . until his son gets hurt

word count: 2.0k

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, tears

Jake had made a promise that when his kids came to the age of wanting to play sports, he was going to let them decide what they wanted to do. Of course, Jake wanted at least one to play football and follow in his footsteps of playing D1 ball somewhere (hopefully the University of Texas), but he was going to be supportive of whatever they decided to do. So when Alex came home one day with a soccer ball, Jake had totally immersed himself in the world of soccer.

Soccer Weekend tournaments had become a weekly occurrence during the fall in the Seresin household. Alex had paved the way for his siblings to follow right in his footsteps. It made tournament weekends a bit more difficult the older they got, and Alex and Ella no longer played on the same team, but the dagger squad helped step in to cover games.

Jake had taken over being the coach for Alex’s team, something he had always dreamed of doing. Mickey had stepped in to be his assistant coach because if Jake was being totally honest. . . he didn’t 100% understand soccer yet. But, he liked to watch his kids have fun and play a sport that they liked.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and Alex was playing his last game of the weekend. The team he was playing on was a junior team, as it was his last year before he would play in high school. Ella had finished her games, her team losing their final match by a penalty kick. Eli had run off with a girl he swears he doesn’t have a crush on, and the Seresin twins were doing their job as the waterboys for the team.

Y/N was sitting on a blanket under one of the tents that they had brought. After years of going to soccer games, baseball games, and wrestling meets, she had gotten good at packing for events. Ella was sitting in a lawn chair with her feet in a bucket of ice. Rooster sitting in the bleachers near the team bench with Javy. While Val, Dragon, and Phoenix all sat with Y/N.

“How’s the ankle, Elles?” Val asked and Ella picked up her swollen ankle. She had rolled it during the game, “Looks better.”

“Yeah, not as swollen,” Ella nodded and looked back towards her brother’s game, “Aunt D are you gonna let Cash play when he’s old enough?”

Dragon looked up at her niece, who had her two-year-old sitting in her lap, “Not sure. I think Uncle Birdy is gonna try and make a baseball player out of this one. Besides, he saw that tumble you took and almost took off sprinting on the field, not sure I’ll be able to stop him again.”

“Maybe he’ll let the next one,” Ella giggled, nodding her head toward Dragon’s rounded belly.

“You see how he is with this one,” Dragon said, handing her son a fruit pouch as he sat on Ella’s lap.

"Come on, Alex!" Jake cheered as the eldest Seresin broke away from one of the opponent’s defenders and made his way down the field, "Go for the goal!"

Y/N’s eyes watched as her son had an open field, no opponent insight as he dribbled the ball down the field. Alex looked over at his teammate, who pointed right for the goal, giving him the go-ahead to make the shot. Y/N stood up from the ground, watching as her son prepared to score. It all happened so quickly, Alex drew his leg back to make a sidekick as an opponent came and collided with him. Jake gasped as Alex fell to the ground with a yell.

"Oh shit," Jake said, and moved quickly towards his son on the field, but was stopped by Mickey as medics went on ahead to him.

“Oh my god,” Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, feeling sick at the sight of her boy on the ground in pain.

"Mom, what happened?" Ella asked, standing up from her chair. Val stood up too, as a team of medics raced towards Alex on the field. She grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed it.

"I don't know," Y/N said.

Alex curled into the fetal position as he cried, holding his knee, which was at a slightly odd angle. He tried to push himself up, but his teammates were telling him not to move.

"Don't move, Seresin," One of his teammates said, and crouched down next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulders, “Medics are on their way.”

"I want my dad!" He cried.

"Hey buddy, we’re gonna get you off the field,” One of the medics said, “Can you tell us what hurts?”

“My knee feels like it exploded,” Alex said, laying on his back and looking up at the clear blue sky. He rubbed his eyes with his fist and the medics looked at each other.

“Okay, let's get him off the field," One of the medics said, "We're going to stand you up, and walk you off okay."

Alex nodded as they gently pulled him up into a sitting position and then up to his feet. His right leg was bent and he refused to straighten it or put any weight on it. He kept her arms draped over one of his teammates and a medic's shoulders as they walked him off the field, towards the ambulance.

"Alex," Jake said, as they approached. Y/N had run over to wait by the ambulance, and Alex reached out for his mother.

"We're going to take him to just the local hospital, by my guess, he tore a ligament. One of you is more than welcome to ride along," The medic said and Jake looked at his wife.

“You go,” She said, “He’s going to be upset and will only want to talk to you.” Jake looked at his boy in the back of the ambulance. He might’ve been almost fourteen, and almost the same height as him, but he looked so small in his current state.

“Okay,” Jake kissed his wife quickly before climbing into the ambulance and sitting down on the opposite side of the gurney across from the medic taking Alex’s vitals.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital, Lex,” Y/N said and the boy looked up at his mother briefly and nodded, before looking down at his swollen right knee. The other medic shut the doors and jogged around to the driver’s side. Y/N clutched her necklace as she watched them drive away with her son and husband.

The whole drive was silent except for the beeping of the heart monitor they had Alex hooked up to. His green eyes never left his knee, the worse thoughts filling his mind.

"Hey," Jake said, wiping the tears from his face, "It'll be okay. They'll run some scans and see what's wrong."

"My dream is over before it even started," Alex said, his voice cracking.

It had always been Alex's dream to go play D1 soccer for the University of San Diego. Jake had been taking him to games whenever he could, and Alex fell in love with the team. He had posters of his favorite players around his room, signed shirts, and soccer balls. Alex had never thought of anything else than going to play soccer, and now he saw that dream going right out the window.

"Ya know when I broke my collarbone my junior year of high school? I was already planning on signing to UT that spring, but the second I heard that snap. . .they snatched the offer," Jake said, "I thought, right then and there, looking down at my arm in a sling, that everything was over. There was no more football player dream. But I learned to overcome the setback. I learned to adapt to it, and I went as a walk-on for Navy, and ended up being the star quarterback my sophomore year."

"Breaking your collarbone and tearing something in your knee are two different things, Dad."

Jake rolled his eyes, "My point is, we can't give anything up until we know what is going on. It could be that you popped some water sac in your knee and that's why it's swollen. You could've just sprained something. No need to set a fire where it's not needed."

— — —

About two hours later, Y/N was standing outside her car, waiting for Jake and Alex to walk out. Jake had texted her and said that the doctor confirmed, Alex had torn his ACL. Y/N’s heart broke for her little boy, knowing how much this was going to set him back. She had already been searching and looking up ways to help Alex heal.

A small smile graced her face as Jake pushed Alex out of the hospital doors in a wheelchair. She could see the dried tears on his face, and his knee was now wrapped up in a large brace. Y/N pushed off the car, holding the bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear in her hand.

“Hey baby,” Y/N said, giving her son a side hug, “How do you feel?”

“Great,” Alex said, his voice a little slurred.

Y/N looked up at Jake, “They gave him some high-dose Tylenol. We scheduled surgery for two weeks from now,” Jake said.

Y/N nodded and looked at her son. His green eyes were sad as he looked at the brace on his leg, “Well, will just have to take it day by day. But right now, let’s get you home. Your siblings apparently have made you a welcome home surprise.”

Alex chuckled, “If Eli has made his infamous ‘pie surprise’, I think I’ll pass.”

Y/N and Jake both laughed as they took Alex to the car. It took both of them to help him get into the car. Y/N drove slowly and tried her best to avoid the potholes, seeing the way Alex would wince at every little bump the car would go over. Alex let out a little gasp as they pulled up to the house, seeing a large paper banner hanging up across the front door. The blue Bronco was parked in the driveway next to a black Jeep.

“We can kick them out, bud if you just want to go to bed,” Jake said from the backseat.

“No, it’s okay,” Alex said, “I wanna see my family.” Y/N smiled and put the car in park.

Jake got out quickly, grabbing Alex’s crutches from the backseat. The two Seresin men slowly walked into the house, where they were met with a loud ‘Welcome Home’ from the living room. Alex felt tears in his eyes as he saw the decorated living room with flowers, candy, and cards from his siblings, the Bates-Machado children, and the Bradshaw kids.

Y/N felt a sense of belonging as she watched her son be showered with love from the people she had learned to call her family. She could remember all those years ago, little three-year-old Alex asking her in the backyard of the rental house in Miramar if the dagger squad was going to like him. It was amazing how much her family had grown since that day, and Y/N wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jake walked over to her, siding up behind her and putting his arm around her waist. She leaned against him, watching as Alex read the words on the card that Cash had given him.

“You did a good job, with that one,” Jake pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

Y/N turned her head and looked up at her husband, “We both did a good job.”

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toasttt11 · 1 month

Text

reunited

December 14, 2023

Gemma grabbed all of bags off the airport conveyer belt, she had just landed in Toronto being home for two days.

Gemma originally was suppose to be on a plane right now on the way to Sweden and she wasn’t going to be able to make it to the Blue Jackets at The Leafs game to be able to see Adam playing in the NHL at their home stadium.

Gemma luckily asked her coach if she could come two days later and be able to watch her brother play in the NHL for the first time.

Obviously she got the okay and immediately booked her ticket to come home and she contacted the Blue Jackets media team to keep her ticket that Adam had originally gotten for her and made sure no one knew she was coming to see him play.

Gemma got an uber to her child hood home and carried all of her bags up into her room and luckily for her, her family had already left for the game. Gemma quickly put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue hoodie with Adam’s jersey over and slipped a pair of black converse on.

Gemma called for a cab to take her to the stadium. She paid the fee and walked up to the stadium through the crowds of people, she scanned her ticket and headed to her section and she smiled seeing many people that she knows in the section and saw her parents, Luca and Nick sitting in a row and a seat empty next to her dad.

She walked down the the stairs quietly not catching anyone’s attention and walked into the row her ticket was at, “Is this seat taken?” Gemma softly questioned making her parents and Luca heads all snap up to her.

“Gems!” Her dad happily exclaimed pulling his only daughter in a tight hug.

“Hi Dad.” Gemma giggled and hugged him back before letting go and hugging her mother tightly.

“My Gem.” Her mother happily cooed as she held her youngest in her arms before letting her go to Luca.

“Hi Lu.” Gemma smiled widely at her big brother, Luca smiled shaking his head in disbelief pulling his baby sister into a tight hug.

“I missed you.” Luca whispered into his sister’s ear, truthfully this year was weird for Luca being completely alone without either of his siblings for the first time in his life.

“I missed you too.” Gemma whispered back hugging him tighter.

Luca reluctantly let her go letting her go hug Nick, “Hi Nicky.” Gemma smiled and hugged her past teammate.

“Hi little Fants.” Nick smiled hugging her back.

Gemma stepped back after the hug seeing her parents scoot down a seat so she could sit between Luca and her mom, Gemma smiled softer at them and sat down having her mother immediately hold her hand.

“I thought you were heading to Sweden right now.” Julia softly questioned her daughter, knowing that her husband and her were planning to join their daughter with Luca coming with after Christmas.

“I was but Coach let me come two days later so i could come to the game.” Gemma explained to her family, squeezing her mother’s hand back.

“We’re glad you’re here.” Giuliano smiled softly at his young daughter, Gemma sent him a smile back.

Gemma smiled cheering as she saw Adam get into the ice for warmups, she smiled at her brother when she noticed Adam seeing her and she waved softly to her brother as Adam shook his head in disbelief smiling widely and waving back at his sister.

The Blue Jackets won 6-5.

Adam got dressed after the game and hurried to the section where his family and friends were all at, he smiled as he walked up the stairs in shock seeing so many people that ending up coming to support him.

He hugged both his parents, Luca and Nick and saw Gemma waiting patiently and Adam tackled her into a tight hug.

“Hi.” Adam voice cracked slightly, Adam has been able to see Luca and his parents more than he has seen Gemma and he hasn’t seen her since she went back to school months ago and it was the longest they have gone with out seeing each other.

“Hi.” Gemma whispered out hugging her brother just as tightly back hating that they haven’t seen each other in so long.

They pulled apart and shared a look and they both grabbed one of Luca’s arm pulling him into a hug, the three all let out an identical sighs as they were all reunited again and all together.

Giuliano and Julia shared a soft look enjoying seeing their kids all together again.

46 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 6 months

Note

So I just reread the fic about Jules birthday, and I’ve always liked the part where Remus tells Jules that he’ll always be more important than hockey. Could you write a fic about that if you haven’t already? Like Remus leaving in the middle of practice or something like that? Idk it’s up to u:)

Fic O'Ween Day 3: Midnight! Read more amazing works from these prompts at @noots-fic-fests and of course, character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW illness (coughing, mentioned vomiting, fatigue)

Remus leaned against the countertop for support and stared at the floor. “But he’s okay, right?”

“He’s okay,” his mother answered. She sounded beyond exhausted.

Remus nodded and rubbed his fingers under his eye. The night suddenly seemed so much darker. “How’re you and dad? Taking time off?”

“We’re alright.” He knew that low edge to her voice—it was the same one his own took on when he was trying to hide his hurt. Silence fell over the line.

“Mom.”

“Your dad can’t get PTO this week and neither can I.”

She cleared her throat; he closed his eyes. “Can Leanne keep an eye on him?”

“Visiting her daughter in Florida.”

No parents, no neighbors, no way they’re getting a babysitter for a sick kid… “I’ll be on the next flight.”

“Remus, no.”

“There’s nobody else—”

“Honey.” He could see the way her eyebrows drew together in his mind. “Honey, you’re on the road this week.”

“I know.”

“In Montreal.”

“They can handle a couple games without me.”

“You’re practically a rookie, Remus,” his mother insisted. After a pause, she lowered her voice. “You’re not going to damage your career when we can get a babysitter, or—or I can find a couple days off. Hell, your dad’s got a pullout at the office he can rest on.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Remus John, you have a responsibility to your team.”

“Jules comes first.” If there was one thing Remus would stand by no matter the circumstances, it was his family. The Lions would survive a roadie without him. Jules would never be alone and sick on his watch.

His mother was silent for a long time.

Remus picked at a chip in the granite. “There’s no babysitter that will watch him, is there?”

A sigh traveled down the line. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby. Give Sirius my best. Sleep well.”

“I will,” he lied. The call went dead and he turned, bracing both hands against cool stone. Sirius’ footsteps were soft, his hand gentle. Remus sniffled. His chest was a vise. “Mom says hi.”

Slow circles pressed between his shoulder blades. “What happened?”

“Jules got the flu, and they can’t get time off work to stay home with him.” Fucking assholes in fucking corporate. Remus swallowed around the clog in his throat. “Sounds like he’s pretty sick.”

“Does he need to go to the hospital?”

Remus shook his head. The hand on his back slid down and wrapped around his side, guiding him to lean on Sirius’ chest. “Do you want me to book your flight while you call Coach?”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough. He didn’t let go. “God, I hate being so far away.”

Sirius’ other arm came around him and held him tight.

Remus and his father talked the whole ride home from the airport, and said nothing at all.

The house was just as he left it at Christmas. No snow remained, and little frost—crocuses peeked out of the lawn where the squirrels had snatched and buried them.

Apologies for the late notice, but due to a family emergency, I will be in Wisconsin until the 22nd. Thank you for your understanding.

Rapid responses. Cranky responses. Remus had tried to keep a level head, even through the tremor of his hands on the computer keyboard. The organization wasn’t happy with him, but when were they ever?

It didn’t matter either way. Fine or not, suspension or not, they weren’t going to stop him from making chicken soup and raspberry Emergen-C for his sick little brother. He was damn lucky to have Arthur on his side, easing the retribution from men in offices who had hardly bothered to meet him at the start of the season.

“Your mother’s worried.”

Remus glanced up from his hands. His father was facing forward, brow pinched while he pulled into the driveway. “Yeah.”

The engine turned off with a sputter. “Be gentle, okay?”

“It’s not your fault they wouldn’t give you time—”

“Be gentle.”

Remus bit the inside of his lip and nodded. A goldfish cracker peered out at him from the crevice by the door. This passenger seat always made him feel so small. He slung his backpack out of the seat well and stepped out, letting the crisp air nip his face and bring him back. He needed to come back more. The heartache had lessened, and distance was simply exhausting now. Running fast and far to Gryffindor had seemed so smart before.

The front door still squeaked when he turned the doorknob. Remus was glad for that, at least.

His mother smiled when she saw him. “Hi, baby, how was your flight?”

“Hey, mom.” It was good, he started to say, only to have the words fall from his mind the moment she stepped around the kitchen table and wrapped him in her arms. It’s been a lot I love you I missed you how are you where’s Jules—“Uneventful, thankfully.”

“Good, that’s just the way you want it.” She gave a little sway, one hand cradling the back of his neck. He felt a light pulse of pressure. Her back, ever tense, relaxed slightly. “It’s so good to have you home.”

Remus breathed deep. Lemon-scented cleaning spray and drugstore shampoo, laundry detergent and just-sharpened pencils. He pressed his nose tighter to her shoulder and felt her squeeze him, just a little. “Missed you.”

“Oh, Re,” she sighed. A hand rubbed along his spine for a few hard, grounding, wonderful seconds. Warmth seeped in around his edges. The floor was solid beneath him, the walls sturdy. A kiss found his temple. “Baby, we missed you, too.”

A rattling cough made him wince. “Jeez.”

“I know.” Her face crinkled into a grimace when they separated and she looked back down the hall. “That started up two days ago. Poor thing. Keeps him up at night.”

“Aw.” The cough was followed by a rough throat-clear that made Remus frown. “Fever and everything?”

“102, as of this morning.” Hope ran a palm over his shoulder, the way she tended to right after he came home. Remus tried not to think about that too hard, or else he made himself sad. “You’re sure about this? You could get sick. It’s the middle of the season.”

Remus tried for an encouraging smile. “My immune system’s great, mom. I’m in good shape, I take my multivitamins. Eat my Wheaties, and all that.”

“Hmm.” She scrutinized him for a beat. “You better be.”

“I’m basically indestructible.”

Her laugh bounced off the corners of the house like it always had. “Let’s not get hasty, hon.”

“Mom?”

Remus’ heart sank.

“Dad?” Jules croaked, a little louder. “Did the neighbors come over?”

“Hey, J,” Remus called. The floorboards gave a light groan when he set his bag down at the end of the hall. “It’s me, bud.”

Silence followed. The bathroom nightlight was on, casting the hall in gentle blue. His hand drifted toward the first door on reflex (cool metal knob, lock on the inside, jimmy it three times in the winter when the frame sticks), but he managed to step past it and knock lightly below the ‘J LUPIN. DO NOT ENTER.’ sign scotch-taped to the old wood.

“Jules? I’m opening the door.”

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Stale, sweaty, feverish—Remus did a double-take without meaning to.

“Jesus Christ, dude.”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” Jules rasped from somewhere to his right. “Hey. Hi, why are you here?”

“You slept too long. It’s June. I’m here for the summer.”

“Hey.”

“You’re sick, dummy.” Remus tried to be subtle about propping the door open wider with a loose hockey glove. “I’m taking care of you.”

With the new, faint light from the hallway, he could see just how terrible Julian looked. His unconvinced squint didn’t help the sallowness of his skin or the heavy bags carved under his eyes. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh, you have a roadie in—” Another hacking cough interrupted him. It shook his tiny frame hard enough to make his knees bend under the covers. Remus’ heart gave an acid lurch.

Agitated heat radiated off him to the point that Remus could feel it when he perched on the edge of the bed. The sheets were a tangled mess; one blanket half-tucked, the other mostly on the floor. “Deep breaths,” he soothed when the coughing turned to a few aggressive sniffles. “Take it easy.”

“Montreal,” Jules finished in a mutter. He wiped his nose on the edge of his baggy t-shirt (almost certainly their father’s, with the way it dwarfed him) and laid back with a long huff. “You got a roadie in Montreal. Dad ‘n me are gonna watch the game.”

“Dad and I.”

“Shhh.”

He smiled to himself and tugged the top blanket down to shimmy the next one into position. “Well, you and I can watch it. How’s that sound?”

“No, you need to play,” Jules groaned, but even that was weak. He curled onto his side and peeked out of his huddle, dull-eyed and flushed. “How come you’re here anyway?”

“Told you. I’m taking care of you.”

“But hockey.”

“But you.”

“But…hockey.”

“But you.” His stomach gave a little pull. “You’re more important than a couple games, bud.”

Jules didn’t look like he believed him. “…okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re R—”

“Don’t you—” Remus bit back his words (and his grin) and whacked lightly at the outline of Jules’ legs under the blankets, coaxing a crunchy sort of laugh from him. “Watch it. I’m in charge of feeding you for the next few days.”

Jules’ giggling trickled out with a last sniff. “Mom and Dad gotta go to work, huh?”

“Yeah.” The wrinkle of his nose was almost certainly reflected on Remus’ face. “But hey, we’ll have fun.”

“Mmm.”

The air shifted, along with his gut. Jules’ breaths were heavier. His eyes, lidded. His forehead was far too hot against the back of Remus’ hand when he checked it. “Tired?”

“Mhmm.”

Wrapping him in a dozen blankets and cuddling him as tight as possible wouldn’t help. Logically, Remus knew that. The temptation was still there. “Too hot?”

“Warm.”

“Want me to take a blanket?”

Jules shook his head. His eyes were closed fully now. “Weight’s nice.”

Every inhale hitched when Remus rested a hand between his shoulder blades, feeling for his pulse. That, at least, was calm. Jules had sweated through the old grey fabric there. He combed a few strands of hair off his burning brow and swallowed around his dry throat. “Want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“Gonna nap.” Jules�� twitched, as if he was trying to readjust but lacked the energy. “Here when I wake up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here.”

The evening passed without issue. Night rolled in with a gust of wind that hissed across the windowpanes while Remus dried the last of the dishes. Jules had managed to get up and come to the table for dinner, but he had looked even worse in the brighter light and barely ate half a bowl of soup. He could see their mother struggling not to fuss over him, not that Jules had any oomph to give real protest.

What kind of family emergency is this, Lupin?

A family emergency. I can come back the 22nd.

You’re missing two games. Do you understand that? Weasley won’t play you for the third, either.

I understand.

Is this a funeral?

No.

A wedding?

No.

It’s a request for nonvital time off, then. This could very well result in a fine.

I’m aware of that. Time off for a family emergency is covered in my contract. I’m permitted to miss four games.

Are you really going to put in a request for this? For a nonvital midweek trip instead of two NHL games?

That’s precisely what I’m requesting, yes. This is an emergency and therefore it is vital.

Remus had not missed the bureaucracy of the NHL during his time on the ice. There was still administrative irritation, of course, but it had not been nearly long enough since he played email tag with someone determined to make his life harder. ‘Nonvital emergency’. It made him want to laugh and lose it at the same time. What a fucking joke.

A sudden rustle and thud—likely Jules’ elbow hitting the wall between their rooms, ouch—startled him from half-sleep. Clumsy footsteps pattered on the floor; a door creaked and closed, quickly followed by a dry heave. Remus winced in sympathy.

This bedroom felt too small. His feet touched the end of the bed if he stretched out. There were only a few inches’ allowance for his shoulders on either side before he hit a wall or the edge of the mattress. Even his stuff felt smaller, as if the books shrank in his hands and the trophies had been made for someone Jules’ size.

He supposed they had been. Juniors was a world away, these days. He had turned the idea of keeping a potential you-know-what ring here instead of in Gryffindor, but never really committed one way or another. That, too, felt far off. He was stuck in the middle of a spectrum, where nothing felt quite right.

The toilet flushed, but he didn’t hear Jules leave. The low timbre of their father’s voice buzzed in the hall for a second; he didn’t catch Jules’ response. Remus swung his legs over the side of the bed with a huff and stood despite the creaking protests of his knees.

The blue light looked eerie in the cover of real night. He propped Jules’ door open again as he passed. A little ventilation couldn’t hurt. He paused in the doorway of the bathroom and crouched down, lowering himself to the cool linoleum with a soft groan. “Sup?”

“M not gonna throw up again.”

“Okay.” Remus flexed his ankles against the cabinets and tilted his head back. The soft towels buffered him from the wallpaper. Next to him, Jules’ forehead was stubbornly pressed into the crease of his elbow where he rested it on the toilet seat. “Still sick?”

A wordless mumble answered him.

“I’m gonna make chicken and dumplings tomorrow.”

Jules weakly raised his head. “Really?”

“Yup. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch. All that good stuff.”

Quiet fell over them for a long moment. “What are you talking about?”

“What, you don’t want a science lesson?”

“Nerd—”

He knew it was going to happen before Jules’ first jerk forward and caught his side when he wobbled, giving gentle pressure until he was upright. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay, I got you.”

“Ugh.”

“I know. You’re doing great, J.” It was over as fast as it started. Jules trembled lightly under his touch, sweaty again, all too warm again. His knuckles stood out in harsh midnight shadows where he gripped the porcelain, thin arms shivering.

Jules sniffled. “I wanna go to bed.”

“I bet.”

“I’m tired.”

“Can you stand up?” It took Jules a moment to even start moving; when he did, it was sluggish and unsteady. Remus hovered his hands close and resisted the urge to scoop him right up. Jules wouldn’t like that. He hated being babied. It was still fucking hard to watch him pull himself to his feet.

A rinse-and-spit and a cool washcloth on the back of his neck made Jules sigh. He leaned right into Remus’ hip, head at the base of his ribs, and staggered along on foal legs while Remus guided him back to bed with a lump in the base of his throat. There was no fuss about being tucked in—he simply sighed again, so content it hurt. Remus smoothed out the hem of the comforter by his neck just one more time, once more, just so he could be sure.

Their parents were out by the time Remus woke. He distantly recalled the sound of them leaving, but the plane left him groggy enough not to notice or care. Jules was still snoring loud enough for him to hear it through their shared wall.

Breakfast, then. Something light. Oatmeal or eggs, if he could keep it down. Broth, if not. Remus would have to check the fridge for Gatorade and lemons.

It was strange to be functionally alone in the house. The carpet felt too soft, the curtains too still. A bright pink sticky note was stuck to the table with his name written in big letters at the top. He’d check it later.

Message To: SB <3

Morning :)

Fever’s still going, nasty cough, the works. I’ll keep an eye on him today.

Miss you

He clicked his phone off and set it aside—hopefully, Sirius wouldn’t be awake for some time yet. They didn’t have practice for two more hours in his time zone. He liked to sleep in on days like that. Remus, on the other hand, had work to do.

Quick eggs and bacon for himself took fifteen minutes. He parked himself at his usual seat without really thinking about it, pulling a dish towel and a fork from their drawers with an absent mind. He hadn’t dared to check his email yet and seriously contemplated leaving it alone until he was back in Gryffindor. Time off was time off. Professional hockey wasn’t big on ‘work from home’.

Jules shuffled in half past ten and made a beeline for the couch.

“Good morning.”

A grunt answered.

“Sleep well?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Want oatmeal?”

Jules’ mumble seemed vaguely affirmative. Remus set the kettle on and dug a pot out of the cupboard, then turned to rummage in the pantry. This was setting up to be a silent morning.

Measuring for a sick preteen was almost as strange as picturing his childhood bedroom as a normal size. Remus had only cooked for himself for years, then himself and Sirius, with the occasional potluck dish for a team dinner or holiday party. A single cup of anything was a novelty. “Want sugar?” he checked once the oats and milk were simmering. Jules snuffled in response, dragging one of the knit blankets further over his head. “Lemme check your temperature and then you can tell me, yeah?”

“Mmkay.”

A quick search of the medicine cabinet revealed no thermometer, and the same went for the hall closet. Remus spent a good five minutes riffling through the bathroom drawers and Jules’ desk before he found it propped against the base of his dolphin lamp. It had been left uncapped; gross. He made sure to give it a thorough wash before moving back into the living room.

“Blanket down.”

“No.”

“I can’t see your mouth. C’mon, just for a second.”

“Cold. Bright.”

“Twenty seconds, J. I promise. You can count.”

The blanket lump shifted. “Twenty?”

“Fifteen. Then I’ll bring your oatmeal over and leave you alone.”

A handful of shallow breaths filled the silence before Jules’ forehead poked out, then his glazed eyes, and finally the lower half of his face. Remus grimaced. His nose was red and chapped from tissues, and a faint crack split the side of his lower lip. “Have you been drinking your water?”

“Fifteen seconds,” Jules slurred.

Remus knew he wasn’t getting a better number than yesterday. Not with this vague lucidity, and not when Jules was hardly able to hold a fragment of a conversation. All the same, it made his gut sink when the thermometer beeped.

“Whuzzat?”

“102.5.”

“ ‘S worse?”

“Yep.”

A resigned nod told him Jules expected as much. The blanket swallowed him up again. Remus pulled it down over his feet before heading back to the kitchen.

Three hours passed with all the rush of a snail on codeine. Jules rallied to choke down his oatmeal before going down for a noon nap, let Remus rouse him to gulp down about a gallon of water, and overall remained sedentary while Remus channel-surfed for anything even slightly interesting on daytime TV. They settled on NCIS from one to 2:30, NCIS: Miami from 2:30 to four (with a brief break for sandwiches, or toast, in Jules’ case), and rounded it out with NCIS: LA while Remus tossed some rotisserie chicken and chopped vegetables in a simmering pot of broth.

“Re?”

“Yeah, bud?” Bisquick puffed over the side of the mixing bowl in a soft cloud.

“My stomach hurts.” Jules’ voice wavered. “And my mouth feels weird.”

Fuck. “Bathroom, hustle.”

The glimpse he caught of Jules before he vanished down the hall confirmed it: pallid skin, dilated pupils, sweat gleaming on the back of his neck. Remus rinsed his hands in the sink and dug the box of Pepto Bismol tablets out of his bag, and sent a silent thanks to whatever small mercy it was that left him without a reactive gag reflex.

He spent twenty minutes sitting sideways with water seeping into his pants from the bathmat. “I’m gonna throw up until I die,” Jules whined, pressing his forehead to Remus’ palm.

“You’re not gonna die. Definitely not while I’m here.” He slid his hand around to press against the nape of Jules’ neck and gave a light squeeze. “You’re almost done. Work it out, buddy.”

“Gonna miss the game?”

Despite the sweat, despite the illness, despite it all—Remus smiled. Of course Jules would be thinking about that when he looked like death warmed over. He wouldn’t be a Lupin with anything else on his mind. “We’ve still got half an hour.”

Jules gave a faint push back into his hand. His lower lip wobbled. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

“I don’t—” His voice cracked, but it wasn’t even slightly funny. He took a shuddering inhale and sniffled again, harsher. “I don’t want to be sick anymore, I don’t, I’m so done, I don’t like it.”

“Jules…” The redness had flooded his cheeks and ears, inching down his neck with each horribly choked breath. Jules’ eyes were bright, but not like usual. He blinked and a drip tracked down his nose. His exhale wasn’t much of an exhale at all—it wracked him, made him sway. “Oh,” Remus murmured. “Oh, hey, c’mere.”

The edge of thirteen had left Jules gangly, all bones and joints. He still fit just right in the hollow of Remus’ chest and arms. A shivering, overheated mess, but a mess that fit all the same. Fuck it, Remus thought as he tightened his arms around Jules and let him fall apart in the safe dark. He didn’t care if he got sick. This was the most vital emergency he could possibly think of. If the administration had a problem with that, he’d happily turn his gear in before leaving Jules to burn through this alone.

“I’m tired,” Jules whispered through shuddering breaths. “My head hurts ‘n my stomach hurts ‘n everything else, too.”

“I know, bud, you’re being so brave.”

A damp, wounded noise made Remus wince.

“But hey, you haven’t thrown up in, like, five minutes.”

Jules felt around blindly for a tissue and blew his nose several times before answering. “I guess.”

“You ready to get up? Have some dinner and watch the game?”

“Dizzy.”

“Okay.” He pressed the wrinkles out of Jules’ shirt with his palm and felt him go limp. “I brought some super special secret hockey medicine, if that’ll help.”

“…is it Gatorade?”

“No, but we have that, too.” He rattled the box next to Jules’ ear. “Pepto Bismol. My secret weapon.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s the pink sh—stuff.”

��Nice save,” Remus said dryly. “This is the same. It’s easier to keep down, though. And it works faster.”

“Makes my stomach stop hurting?”

“It might help.”

He waited a beat, then two. A clammy palm extended from the tangle of limbs near his middle. He dropped two of the chalky tabs into it and loosened his hold by a degree, enough for Jules to pop them both in his mouth and frown immediately. “Yuck. It’s crunchy.”

“Keep chewing.”

“Why is it coming apart like that?”

“Keep chewing,” Remus repeated through a light laugh. “Doesn’t work if you talk the whole way through.”

Jules tucked his legs closer to himself, pushing him further into Remus’ lap. As horrible as the past twenty minutes had been, he seemed better for it. The fevered sheen to his face wasn’t quite as nuclear. His breathing sounded more even and controlled.

“You finished?”

“Mhmm.”

Jules might have looked better, but Remus didn’t have the energy to fight the coddling urge this time. He slid his free arm across the back of Jules’ knees and hefted him up like a cat gone boneless, and received no protest whatsoever. Instead, Jules curled into him with a long, relieved sigh. Remus’ heart may have shattered a little.

The pregame show was just wrapping up when he set Jules gingerly on the couch and pulled the blanket around him. Half of his waterbottle was gone in a few desperate swallows; Jules wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and all but collapsed onto the throw pillows, a heap of exhaustion. The belltower by the middle school tolled six. His sandy hair was damp at the root when Remus passed a hand through it. They’d fix that eventually. Fluids first (hockey first), then everything else.

New Message From: SB <3

Heading to the rink. Miss you love you : )

Remus smiled down at his phone as he set Jules’ bowl on the coffee table and folded himself into the armchair.

“Tell Sirius I say hi.”

“He’s literally right there,” Remus laughed, gesturing at the TV. “He’s not gonna see it for ages.”

“Still.” Jules poked around with his spoon for a few seconds before attempting a small sip of broth. An approving nod followed. “It’s good.”

“Glad it meets your standards. Eat. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch.”

Jules’ eye roll was weak, but very much present. “I know, I know.”

“You gotta know that stuff.”

“I’m not gonna be a doctor.”

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna be a person.” Remus cut a dumpling in half with the side of his spoon. “If you don’t know how to feed yourself by the time you move out, I’m totally making fun of you.”

“Whatever.”

They both booed when the Habs skated out, and cheered when the Lions appeared soon after. Jules couldn’t muster much more than a rough whisper, but the soup and a bottle of Gatorade seemed to help. Remus made him get up and stretch during the first period intermission (to immense complaints, but eventual acquiescence) before letting him rest while he washed up in the kitchen.

New Message From: SB <3

First period up.

How’s J?

New Message To: SB <3

Haha yeah we’re watching

Temp’s high, still pretty sick. Getting better tho

Made soup

The response was almost immediate. Remus’ heart skipped at the thought of Sirius glued to his phone even after a rough period, just to chat with him.

New Message From: SB <3

Oooo jealous

New Message To: SB <3

Yeah you should be

It’s a real rager up here

Miss you. Go get ‘em.

A simple heart and hockey stick emoji followed. The grey bubble cycled for a moment before disappearing. That would be the midgame meeting. Remus was glad to be home—wouldn’t trade this—but he had to admit the hockey ache was still there. Even easy choices had consequences.

By the time he looked back, Jules was asleep. Remus checked his forehead as delicately as he could and was pleased to find it slightly cooler than that morning, if altogether too warm. The pattern of creaky floorboards laid a map in his bones as he moved through the house: first to open Jules’ window, then to let his blankets air out, and while he was at it, he may as well wash the sheets. The nightstand and bookshelf needed to be wiped down. It wasn’t hard to get that done while the washer rumbled on the other side of the hall. In the meantime, the soup had cooled enough to pack up in Tupperware to stack in the fridge for later. Who knew if Jules would suddenly get his appetite back? The kid was a bear when he was hungry.

He lingered for the end of the second period and swapped the sheets into the dryer at the start of the third with a cookie and a cup of Emergen-C for himself. He damn well better not catch whatever germs Jules had percolated from the hellscape of middle school. Sirius had called him ‘stubbornly healthy’ on too many occasions for it to be disproven. Besides, the administration might actually fire him if he came back from an emergency and was immediately out for three more games.

“Re?”

The sound of a quiet voice took Remus’ off-guard in the last few minutes of the third period. “What’s up?”

Jules shifted around until he could prop his chin on the throw pillow and blink blearily at Remus. “Did we win?”

“Game’s still going. 4-3, Lions.”

“How much time?”

“Just under five.”

Jules attempted a whistle, though it came out as more of a shaky breath. “Almost there.”

“Dad texted. They’ll be home in a few, traffic was rough.”

“Oh, okay.” A small smile lit his face. He burrowed back under the blanket. “That’s good.”

“They’ve been asking about you all day.”

“Did’ja tell them I was fine?”

“Something like that.” Sort of. Maybe. He had been gentle about it, at least. Gory details would only make them panic.

He made sure to poke Jules awake for the last minute of the game before shepherding him down the hall to brush his teeth and shower. It was only 8:30, but Remus felt weary all the way to his core. He made Jules’ bed while the water ran and tried to tuck the sheets in along the wall a little deeper this time, just in case one tried to end up on the floor again. If he had the time, he may as well do it right, pinched fingers notwithstanding.

It was all worth it when Jules trudged back into his bedroom and threw himself into bed, only to gasp aloud. “Aw, man, this is great.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus laughed.

“Oh, wow.” The bumps of Jules’ feet kicked happily under layers of fabric and down. “It’s all warm, and cozy…”

“Get some sleep,” he reminded him, and turned out the big light. “If you need anything, I’m right next door.”

He made it halfway across Jules’ carpet.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“You—” The faint outline of Jules’ head was backlit by his lamp. Remus could see the shadows of his hands fidgeting with the top blanket. “Will you…can you tell me about the soup stuff? The proteins and all that.”

Remus hesitated. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Jules said with a surprisingly enthusiastic nod. “It sounds cool.”

“I mean—yeah, sure. Uh…” Jules’ desk chair looked wildly uncomfortable for this time of night, so edge of the bed it was, he supposed. The sheets provided a nice cushion when he sat. “Okay, have you ever heard of macromolecules?”

“That’s a made-up word.”

“It’s what you’re made up of, actually. How about DNA? You know that one?”

Lyall opened the front door with a muttered curse for the bitter wind and the worse traffic. It was brutally unfair that the one day he tried to come home early, everything went to hell and kept him an age and a half longer. What kind of karma came after a father trying to get home to his sick kid?

“It’s awfully quiet,” Hope remarked behind him. The door opened at last; warm air rushed over them. “Boys? Are you up?”

The NHL postgame show was playing at a low volume, next to a plate with crumbs on it and a mug so old the pattern had washed off it. One of Hope’s blankets from her knitting phase was haphazardly piled on the couch. The evidence of both of them there, present and accounted for and safe, plucked at his heartstrings. “Why do I feel like this is exactly where they sat for the entire day?”

She shook her head. “Good for them. I’m jealous. Remus? Julian? Are you home?”

Remus’ bedroom door was closed. The bathroom fan was still on, and steam clung to the corners of the mirror next to a still-damp towel. It couldn’t have been long since they went to bed, then. Lyall pushed Julian’s bedroom door open wider and covered his mouth with his palm.

They had nearly rendered each other invisible, save for Remus’ legs stretched over the side of the bed and Julian’s arm resting atop his pile of blankets. Julian’s congested snoring drowned out the heavy, even rhythm of Remus’ breathing. As far as he could tell, only one of them had actually been prepared for bed.

“Oh my goodness,” Hope whispered at his shoulder. Her grin was radiant, even half-covered by her palm. “I don’t want to move them.”

“Re’s going to wake up with one hell of a side cramp if we let him sleep like that.”

“You do it, then.”

“…no.”

Hope scoffed fondly and tossed her hands in the air, then kissed him on the jaw as she stepped deeper into the bedroom. The whole place felt lighter, Lyall noticed. Julian had been holed up in here for two days, refusing to come out for anything but necessities. Whatever Remus had done, it worked wonders.

“Remus,” Hope singsonged in her quietest voice. She shook his shoulder, soft enough that for a moment, Lyall forgot Remus wasn’t a toddler anymore. “Baby, you need to wake up. It’s bedtime.”

“ ‘M asleep,” Remus mumbled without opening his eyes. “In my bed.”

“This isn’t your bed, lovey,” she laughed. “Come on, up you go.”

“Goin’ to sleep, promise.” His eyelashes fluttered, nose crinkling. “Talking ‘bout—‘bout proteins. Jules wanted to know.”

At the head of the bed, Julian didn’t show so much as a hint of waking. Lyall stepped forward and braced his hands under Remus’ arms, then hoisted him into a sitting position as gently as he could manage with the unexpected weight of an athlete to counterbalance him.

Remus jolted, startling into consciousness. “Woah—”

“Shh, shh.” Lyall helped him stand on clumsy legs and guided him to the door with a last playful glance at Hope. “I’ve got you, buddy.”

“Fell asleep.” Remus blinked hard. “Jules’ bed. Wanted me to stay. Time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“Oh, god, ‘s early.” A yawn overtook him, spilling more of his weight into Lyall. He didn’t seem to know where his own feet were, but he went easily into the room next door.

“Alright,” Lyall huffed as he helped Remus stumble toward the bed and splay over the mattress. That old thing was definitely too small for him these days. Funny, how times changed so rapidly. That same bed used to make Remus look like nothing more than a pile of sheets. “Brush your teeth?”

A drawn-out snore answered him.

Lyall smiled to himself in the darkness and ruffled the back of Remus’ hair. “Night, Re.”

A single socked foot twitched in response. That was good enough for him.

(Jules’ fever broke the next morning. By the end of the day, he was well enough to go with them to the airport and give Remus the fiercest goodbye hug either of them had experienced, with a pinky-promise that the Lions would win the next game he played.)

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