Somewhere Special

------

LUKE

The first thing anyone noticed about the two of you was that Luke was always touching you.

A hand on your lower back, your fingers intertwined, his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head. He wasn't particularly aware he was doing it anymore. It was simply where he felt most comfortable.

Close enough to know you were there, and most importantly, close enough to steal a kiss whenever he wanted.

Which... happened often.

Luke's favorite place to kiss you wasn't your lips.

He loved kissing you there, obviously, but that wasn't the place he sought out without thinking.

It was your forehead.

It had started before either of you were even dating, back when he was trying very hard not to admit how hopelessly in love with you he was.

You'd hug him goodbye after weekends in New Jersey. He'd hesitate, then lean down and press the quickest little kiss against your forehead before pretending he'd meant to do something else.

You noticed every single time. Eventually, it stopped being hesitant.

Now it happened dozens of times a day. If you walked into the room, forehead kiss. If he passed you in the hallway, forehead kiss. Leaving for practice, forehead kiss. Getting home, forehead kiss.

Before bed… Another one. Sometimes three.

He said it made him feel like he was making sure you were okay. Grounding himself. Making sure you were real. There was something about the way you always closed your eyes for half a second when he did it.

You trusted him completely, and you knew exactly what was coming.

He adored that.

----

"You know you don't have to kiss my forehead every twelve minutes."

Luke looked genuinely confused. "I don't?"

"No."

He thought about it. "I think I do."

You laughed. "Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just like checking on you."

"You can check on me with words."

"I could." Another kiss. "But this is faster."

The forehead kisses changed depending on the moment. Quick little pecks while walking through grocery stores. Longer ones when you were anxious.

Lingering ones when he was leaving for road trips. Those were different; those lasted several seconds. 

He'd cradle your face in both hands, rest his forehead against yours first, then kiss the center of your forehead so softly it almost didn't feel real, it was like he was trying to memorize you.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

One more kiss. Always one more.

----

After the accident the forehead kisses became even more meaningful.

The first time he was finally allowed to lean over your hospital bed after you'd woken up enough to recognize him, he couldn't bring himself to kiss your lips. Not with all the tubes. Not with how fragile everything felt.

Instead, he rested one shaky hand against your hairline, closed his eyes, and kissed your forehead. The same place he'd kissed a thousand times before. Only this time, his shoulders started shaking halfway through. You couldn't say anything yet, couldn't move very much, but your fingers found his wrist and held on.

He cried into your hair for several minutes, and ever since then, the forehead kisses meant I'm here. You're safe. I still have you.

----

Your favorite thing was pretending to be busy just to see if he'd notice. You'd stand at the kitchen counter making coffee. He'd wander in, wrap his arms around your waist, and without missing a beat, kiss you on the forehead.

"Predictable." You giggled

"I know."

"You literally do it every day."

"I know."

"So why do I keep standing here?"

He smiled against your skin. "Cause you like it."

"Maybe."

Ironically, Luke's favorite place to be kissed wasn't his lips either.

It was his jaw.

Specifically, right below it, just behind the corner where it met his neck, and you discovered it completely by accident.

One night, you were curled up together watching a movie. Luke had you tucked against his side, completely invested in absolutely nothing happening on the television because he'd spent the last twenty minutes watching you instead.

You shifted, reached up, and absentmindedly pressed a kiss against his jaw while adjusting yourself.

Luke froze.

You blinked. "You okay?"

"Do that again."

"What?"

"You know what."

You smiled, slowly leaned up, and kissed the same spot again, this time lingering just a little longer.

Luke actually let out the tiniest sigh. Like every muscle in his body relaxed all at once.

After that you started noticing.

Whenever he was overwhelmed after a rough game, and you'd kiss his jaw, his shoulders would drop. 

Whenever he was stressed, jaw kiss. When he couldn't sleep, jaw kiss.

He melted every single time.

"You are ridiculous."

"I know."

"You act like I pressed a reset button."

"You kinda did."

Luke eventually admitted why. "When you kiss me there–” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. "I can't really explain it."

"Try."

"It–" He searched for the words. "It makes me feel–” He smiled sheepishly. "taken care of, I guess."

Your expression softened. "Really?"

He nodded. "I spend a lot of time trying to take care of you."

"I know."

"When you kiss me there," His ears turned pink. "it's one of the only moments where my brain completely shuts off."

"You don't have to think."

"You just," He smiled. "love me."

----

After that conversation, it became your favorite place to kiss him because you knew exactly what it meant to him.

Sometimes you'd be walking through the house, he'd pass by carrying laundry, you'd catch his wrist, pull him back just enough to place one quick kiss against his jaw.

Nothing more.

He'd stop walking every single time his eyes closed for the briefest second. Then he'd smile at you. "Thank you."

"For what?"

He'd shake his head. "You know."

And you did. It wasn't about the kiss itself. It was the feeling behind it.

The same way his forehead kisses always silently said, You're safe.

Your jaw kisses always answered back with something just as important. 

So are you.

----------------------

JACK

Jack had kissed you in plenty of places. Your forehead when he passed you in the kitchen. Your temple when you fell asleep on his shoulder during movie nights. The tip of your nose, because he thought it was funny when you scrunched it afterward. The top of your head whenever he hugged you. Your hand when you were nervous. Your cheek just to make you smile, but none of those ever compares to your lips.

It wasn't even close.

Jack loved kissing you, not dramatic, movie-style kisses every time. Just... your lips.

Soft little pecks while walking past each other, quick kisses before leaving the house, the absentminded ones while waiting for the microwave, the "I'm listening, keep talking" kisses where he'd interrupt your sentence for half a second before letting you continue.

Sometimes he'd cup your face with both hands like you were the most precious thing he'd ever held, smiling into the kiss before stealing another.

"You already kissed me."

"I know."

"Then why are you doing it again?"

"'Cause I wanted another one."

"You literally had one."

"And now I have two."

You'd laugh every single time. He'd grin like he'd won something.

Jack especially loved when you were distracted.

If you were reading on the couch, he'd lean over and kiss you. If you were cooking, he'd gently tilt your chin up for one quick peck before wandering away as if nothing had happened.

If you were brushing your teeth, he'd stand in the doorway waiting.

"You're staring."

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"Wanna kiss you."

"I've got toothpaste in my mouth."

"I'll wait."

"You are unbelievable."

"I know."

The second you rinsed your mouth, he was already there.

He also had a habit of lingering. A quick kiss somehow became two, then three, then one where neither of you actually pulled away.

Your noses brushed together. His forehead rested against yours.

"You done?" you'd whisper.

"No."

"You've been kissing me for like five minutes."

"So?"

"So... breathe."

"I am breathing."

"Barely."

"Worth it."

----

His favorite moments weren't the planned romantic ones. They were the ordinary kisses.

The ones that happened because you happened to walk into the same room, because one of you looked at the other, because life felt a little better with your lips against his.

Those were his favorites because they never felt forced. They were simply home.

----

Ironically, Jack wasn't nearly as picky about where you kissed him.

He loved all of it.

His jaw. His cheeks. His forehead. His neck. His shoulder, but if he had to pick one place, it was his chest.

You discovered it by accident. Jack had come home exhausted after a long road trip. He'd showered, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and collapsed onto the couch shirtless with a tired sigh.

You climbed onto the cushions beside him without saying anything. He opened one arm automatically and you tucked yourself against him, resting your head over his heartbeat.

Neither of you spoke. After a few quiet minutes, you pressed one tiny kiss against the center of his chest.

Jack froze. "What?"

You looked up. "What?"

"You..." He blinked. "Do that again."

You laughed. "I kissed you."

"I know, do it again."

You leaned forward and placed another tiny kiss right over his heart.

Jack let out the softest sigh you'd ever heard from him. His hand found the back of your head, his fingers disappeared into your hair. "That's nice."

"Nice?"

"Really nice."

"You look like you're about to fall asleep."

"I might."

After that, it became a habit without either of you realizing it. Whenever you hugged him, you'd sneak in a quick kiss against his chest. Whenever he was lying on the couch, your lips would brush against his skin before settling down beside him.

Sometimes you'd rest your cheek there afterward, listening to the steady rhythm beneath your ear, but every single time, Jack melted.

Later that night, while you were getting ready for bed, you caught Jack watching you.

"What?"

He smiled softly. "Come here."

You walked over. He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against yours.

Before you could ask what he wanted he tipped your chin up and kissed your lips.

When he finally pulled back, he smiled that quiet smile reserved only for you.

"Favorite place," he murmured.

You smiled back. "My lips?"

He nodded. "The rest are pretty great..." Another quick kiss. "But nothing beats these."

You laughed, leaning into him. Without another word, you pressed one last kiss over his heart.

Jack closed his eyes with a contented smile. "See?"

You looked up. "See what?"

"You have a favorite place, too."

-------------------------------

FRASER

Fraser's favorite place to kiss you wasn't your lips. It surprised everyone when they found out. If someone asked, they'd assume he'd say your forehead because he adored how peaceful you looked, or your cheeks because they made you laugh every time he peppered them with quick little kisses.

No. It was your neck.

One night after practice, you were curled up against him on the couch, half asleep, while he watched some documentary you had absolutely no interest in. Your head had slowly drifted onto his shoulder, exposing the side of your neck.

Without thinking, he'd leaned over and pressed a soft kiss just beneath your ear. You'd sighed, content. The kind of quiet sigh someone lets out when they finally feel completely safe.

Fraser had frozen. "Was that okay?"

You'd smiled without opening your eyes. "Mhm."

So he'd done it again. Another gentle kiss. Then another. From that day on, it became second nature.

Whenever he hugged you from behind while you baked, his lips found your neck. When he picked you up after class and wrapped his arms around your waist, there'd be a kiss against the side of your neck before he'd even say hello.

When you were standing together waiting for the elevator, slow dancing in the kitchen, and when he whispered goodnight.

It wasn't possessive; it was simply where he felt closest to you. Sometimes he'd rest his forehead there afterward, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo while his arms stayed snug around your waist.

"You smell like vanilla."

"I've been baking all day."

"I know."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It isn't." He'd grin before sneaking in another kiss.

----

It became so automatic that eventually you started expecting it. If he walked past you without kissing your neck, you'd actually stop.

"Are you mad at me?"

He'd blink. "What?"

"You forgot."

"I forgot what?"

"My neck kiss."

He'd stare for a second before laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. "I forgot your neck kiss?"

"You did."

"My deepest apologies." Then he'd dramatically cup your face, lean down, and place three exaggerated kisses along your neck.

"There."

"You missed one."

"I missed one?"

"Mhm."

He'd sigh with the exaggerated exhaustion of a man burdened by impossible expectations before giving you one more. "There."

"Perfect."

"You are unbelievably spoiled."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Mine."

"Exactly."

----

Your favorite place to kiss Fraser, however, caught him completely off guard.

It wasn't his lips, cheek, or even the back of his neck. It was the little V-line just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

You discovered it on a lazy Sunday morning. Fraser was standing at the kitchen counter, making coffee in a pair of gray sweats that sat low on his hips, one of his old Bruins T-shirts pushed up slightly as he reached for a mug.

You wandered over, wrapped your arms around him from behind, and absentmindedly pressed a tiny kiss against the exposed skin there.

He stopped moving, coffee forgotten.

"Ducky."

"Hm?"

"What was that?"

"A kiss?"

His ears turned bright red. "Oh."

You blinked. "...Oh?"

He cleared his throat. "I... uh..."

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Do that again."

You laughed. "Were you just politely asking for another kiss?"

"Maybe."

So you did, you leaned down and placed another soft kiss on his v-line. His shoulders visibly relaxed.

"You like that, Bear?"

"I... do."

"A lot?"

"A concerning amount."

It quickly became your secret weapon.

Whenever he was stressed before a game, you'd wrap your arms around him from behind while he got dressed and leave one quick kiss there. Whenever he'd been gone on a road trip. Whenever he'd had a rough practice. Whenever you simply walked by him at home.

Every single time, he'd glance back over his shoulder with the same bashful smile. One that looked entirely too sweet for a six-foot-three hockey player.

"You know," Charlie teased one afternoon after Fraser had wandered into the locker room looking suspiciously flustered, "for someone who gets hit by grown men for a living, you're incredibly easy to embarrass."

Fraser scratched the back of his neck. "Shut up."

Jeremy laughed. "What'd she do this time?"

Fraser shook his head. "I'm taking that to my grave."

Which, of course, only made everyone even more curious. You never told them. Neither did Fraser. Some things belonged to just the two of you, and honestly, the smile that always appeared on his face afterward was worth keeping that little secret.

------------

BONUS QUINN

Quinn wasn't especially dramatic about affection.

He wasn't the kind of guy who needed every moment to be a grand romantic gesture or an over-the-top display. Most of the time, his love showed up in quiet ways, his hand finding yours without thinking, brushing your hair out of your face, standing just a little closer than necessary whenever the two of you were out together, but there was one habit he'd developed that always made you smile.

Whenever you hugged him, his lips somehow ended up resting against the top of your chest, just above the neckline of whatever you were wearing.

You were both exhausted after a long road trip. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he buried his face against you before he pressed a quick kiss there. Neither of you thought much of it. Until he started doing it all the time.

If you were making coffee and he wandered into the kitchen still half asleep. If you greeted him after he'd been away for a road trip. Standing in the hallway before leaving for dinner. 

Sometimes it was barely more than his lips lingering for half a second. Other times he'd smile against your skin before resting his forehead there for a moment like he'd finally made it home.

"You know," you teased one afternoon, "most people kiss their girlfriend on the cheek."

Quinn looked up from where he'd been hugging you. "I do."

"You kiss my forehead too."

"Mhm."

"My nose."

"Yep."

"My hand."

"Correct."

You laughed. "So why here?"

He shrugged with that little smile he got whenever he couldn't quite explain something. "I don't know."

"You don't?"

"No." He looked genuinely thoughtful. "It's just... comfortable."

"Comfortable?"

"You hug me..." He rested his chin lightly against your shoulder. "...and that's where I end up."

You raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying gravity made you romantic?"

"I'm saying I got lucky."

"You are such a dork."

"I've been told."

The truth was, he loved how natural it felt. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't something he even realized he was doing anymore. It was simply the place that felt closest whenever you wrapped yourself around him. The place that reminded him he was loved.

As much as Quinn loved giving those absentminded little kisses, there was one place that absolutely unraveled him whenever you returned the favor.

His neck.

He'd been sitting beside you on the couch after practice, hair still damp from his shower, lazily scrolling through something on his phone while you leaned against his shoulder.

You wanted his attention, so instead of saying anything you leaned over and pressed a tiny kiss beneath his jaw.

Quinn froze. His thumb stopped moving across his screen. "What was that?"

"What?"

"You know exactly what."

You blinked innocently. "I kissed you."

"You..." He cleared his throat. "Could you maybe do it again?"

You tried not to laugh. "Seriously?"

His ears were turning pink. "Maybe."

So you did. Another soft kiss. Then another. His shoulders dropped as he let out the quietest sigh.

"You're impossible," you whispered.

"I'm aware."

"You melted."

"Yes, I did."

After that, it became your secret weapon. If Quinn was stressed after a rough game, a kiss against his neck. If he'd been buried in film sessions all day. If he was overthinking something, as he so often did, you'd wrap your arms around him from behind and brush your lips beneath his jaw.

Every single time, the tension seemed to disappear from his shoulders.

"You cheat," he'd mumble, trying, and failing, to sound annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do."

"I was just giving my boyfriend a kiss."

"That's dirty."

"It's a kiss."

"It's where you kiss me."

You grinned. "So I was right."

He looked away. "Maybe."

"You have a weak spot."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't announce that."

"Oh, I'm announcing that."

He groaned into your shoulder. "I'm never winning another argument."

"Nope."

"You'll just kiss my neck."

"Mhm."

"And I'll forget what we were talking about."

"Exactly."

Quinn laughed quietly before pulling you closer. "I really tell you too much."

"You do."

"Worst mistake of my life."

"Getting my boyfriend's brother to open my door instead."

Luke had absolutely no idea. That was the important part.

Jack, however, had agreed before you'd even finished explaining the trend. He'd been sitting on the couch eating pretzels when you asked.

His eyes lit up. "This is gonna be the funniest thing we've ever done."

"You have to commit."

Jack looked genuinely offended that you'd even question him. "I always commit."

-----

The three of you had just finished lunch and were making your way across the parking lot toward Luke's truck.

The afternoon sun was warm, a light breeze tugging at your hair as Luke absentmindedly reached over to tuck a loose strand behind your ear before continuing his conversation.

"...and then he tried to convince me it wasn't his fault even though I literally watched him do it."

You smiled. "Mhm."

"He broke the blender."

"Mhm."

Luke glanced over. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Not really."

He rolled his eyes with a fond smile. "I figured."

As you reached the truck, Luke automatically reached into his pocket for his keys.

He didn't even think about it anymore. Unlock the truck, walk to your side, open your door, wait until you are safely inside, then get in. It was muscle memory.

He was halfway through fishing his keys out when Jack caught your eye. You gave him the tiniest nod. Jack understood, and without saying a word, he casually sped up, slipping around the front of Luke.

The truck chirped as it unlocked.

You stopped beside the passenger door exactly where you always did. Luke started drifting toward you–

Then Jack stepped directly into his path. "I got it."

Luke frowned, still holding his keys. "...What?"

Jack ignored him as he reached for the passenger handle. "I said I got it." The door swung open. Jack stepped aside with an exaggerated flourish before giving you an overly dramatic bow. "M'lady."

You couldn't help smiling. "Why, thank you, kind sir."

"My pleasure."

You climbed into the truck as if this were the most normal interaction in the world.

Jack gently closed the door behind you. "There you go."

Luke stood there, keys dangling from one hand, his brain visibly trying to process what had just happened.

His eyes slowly traveled from the closed passenger door, to Jack to you through the window, and back to Jack.

He blinked, and his eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "What..." Another pause. "...was that?"

Jack shrugged. "I opened her door."

"I can see that."

"But?"

Luke stared. "...That's my job."

Jack nodded. "It was."

Luke looked personally attacked. "...Was?"

"You were taking too long."

"I was getting my keys!"

"I adapted."

Luke just stared at him. "You adapted?"

"Mhm."

Luke slowly turned toward you. "You let him?"

You smiled innocently through the open window. "He was just helping."

Luke let out one short, disbelieving laugh. "Helping?"

"Yeah."

"I don't need help opening my girlfriend's door."

Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Apparently you did."

Luke looked like his brain had completely short-circuited. "You stole my job."

"I borrowed it."

"You can't borrow it."

"Already did."

Luke pointed dramatically at the passenger door. "You opened my passenger door."

Jack nodded proudly. "I did."

Luke looked genuinely lost. "I don't even know what to do with this."

Jack grinned. "You could thank me."

Luke laughed again. A completely disbelieving laugh. "I'm not thanking you."

"You should."

"You interfered."

"You hesitated."

"I was unlocking the truck!"

"I was opening the door."

The parking lot suddenly felt very quiet. A couple walking by slowed down ever so slightly, clearly trying to figure out why two grown men were arguing over a passenger door.

Luke looked back at you like he needed reassurance. "Are you okay with this?"

You nodded. "It was very gentlemanly."

Luke's mouth actually fell open. "Oh, now it's gentlemanly?"

Jack gave you another ridiculous little bow. "Anything for Bug."

Luke threw both hands into the air. "No."

Jack blinked. "No?"

"No." Without another word, Luke marched over to the passenger side.

He opened the door even though you were already sitting comfortably in the seat. He looked at you, kissed your forehead, then carefully shut it again. "There."

Jack stared at him. "What was that?"

"I fixed it."

"You reopened the door while she was already inside the truck."

"I restored order."

Jack folded over laughing so hard he had to brace himself against the truck. "No, you didn't."

"I did."

"You reset the door?"

"I reset the door."

You were laughing so hard that tears had started collecting in the corners of your eyes.

Luke looked completely satisfied with himself. As though the universe had been thrown out of balance and he'd personally corrected it.

Jack wiped at his face. "You are unbelievable."

Luke ignored him. Instead, he opened your door one more time, leaned into the truck, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

"There." His voice was much gentler now. Then he looked directly at Jack. "Now you can open your own door."

Jack completely lost it. He bent over laughing so hard he had to grab the hood of the truck for support. "I've never seen someone so territorial over basic manners."

Luke shrugged. "I have one job."

"You play in the NHL."

"I have two jobs."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Hockey, and?"

Luke looked over at you without missing a beat. "Her." The answer came so naturally that it caught both of you off guard.

Your heart melted.

Jack, however, only laughed harder. "You are unbelievable."

Luke simply smiled, walked around to the driver's side, and climbed into the truck as though the entire exchange had been perfectly reasonable.

The video ended with Jack still doubled over outside the truck, Luke looking completely satisfied with himself, and you hiding your face behind your hand because your ridiculous boyfriend had still managed to make the whole thing unbelievably sweet.

----------

Comments:

yn_buggy: I created a monster

↳ lhughes_06: no you created jack

↳ jackhughes: and what a beautiful creation i am

↳ lhughes_06: debatable

↳ yn_buggy: I did NOT create jack.

----

jackhughes: i regret nothing

↳ lhughes_06: you will

↳ jackhughes: is that a threat

↳ lhughes_06: it's a promise

----

_quinnhughes: i knew exactly where this was going the second jack volunteered

↳ yn_buggy: he was WAY too excited

↳ _quinnhughes: that's how i knew

----

trevorzegras: "you stole my job" 😭😭😭 LUKE SHE'S NOT A PACKAGE DELIVERY

↳ lhughes_06: exactly she's my girlfriend

↳ trevorzegras: THAT DIDN'T HELP

↳ yn_buggy: parasite he loves me you just don’t understand smh

----

nicohischier: Luke what the hell?

↳ yn_buggy: CAP HE LOVES ME YOU RAISED HIM WELL🥹🥹🥹🥹

↳ nicohischier: he genuinely believed that solved the problem

↳ lhughes_06: because it did

----

gritsy_96: "i restored order" 😭😭😭😭

↳ yn_buggy: gritsy i couldn't breathe

↳ lhughes_06: someone had to

----

mackcelebrini: i've never seen someone reboot a passenger door before

↳ jackhughes: factory settings

↳ lhughes_06: exactly

↳ mackcelebrini: WHY ARE YOU AGREEING

----

ethanedwards: bro got his job stolen for six seconds and started buffering

----

aust_mw63: "her." okay that was actually adorable

↳ yn_buggy: i know 🥹

↳ lhughes_06: ❤️

↳ jackhughes: ew

----

alexrn: jack knew EXACTLY what he was doing

↳ jackhughes: absolutely

----

devilsfan27: Luke looking at Jack like he committed high treason 😭

----

hockeygirl88: not Jack saying "M'lady" 💀

----

redandblackfan: "Anything for Bug" Jack committed to the bit

----

lukesbiggestfan: Luke's brain literally blue screened

----

puckbunny98: "You adapted?" 😭😭😭

----

devilsnation: the pause before "that's my job" SENT ME

----

randomfan42: this man has claimed passenger door privileges for life

----

sportsgirlie: why did Luke look genuinely heartbroken 😭

----

trevorzegras: next video i'm opening her door

↳ lhughes_06: no

↳ trevorzegras: i'm already on my way

↳ lhughes_06: don't

↳ trevorzegras: too late

↳ jackhughes: i'll hold him back long enough for you to get there

↳ lhughes_06: JACK???

↳ yn_buggy: parasite you open my door and I’m walking home 🥰

----

_quinnhughes: everyone relax

↳ _quinnhughes: i'll open my own door

↳ jackhughes: congratulations?

----

randomfan71: "Now you can open your own door."

randomfan71: I'M CRYING

----

hockeyedits22: he kissed her forehead after resetting the door 😭

----

gritsy_96: i can't stop laughing at the fact Luke looked more offended at Jack than Y/N

↳ jackhughes: because betrayal hurts more

↳ lhughes_06: exactly

↳ jackhughes: WAIT I WAS JOKING

----

randomfan55: the funniest part is Jack accidentally proved Luke right by opening the door exactly like Luke does

----

devilsfan13: "I have two jobs. Hockey. Her." that's the smoothest thing he's ever said and i don't even think he meant for it to be

↳ yn_buggy: he absolutely didn't 😭❤️

↳ lhughes_06: i meant it

----

jackhughes: i still think i opened it better

↳ lhughes_06: wrong

↳ jackhughes: ask Bug

↳ yn_buggy: i'm pleading the fifth

↳ lhughes_06: smart girl

↳ jackhughes: BOOOOOOOO

--------

You'd somehow convinced every single one of them that this was a perfectly normal question. Which really said more about you than it did about them.

----

Jack

Practice had just ended.

The locker room was loud, half the team already showering while the other half wandered around in various stages of getting changed. Jack was sitting on the training table, unlacing his skates, when you wandered in with the unmistakable expression that always meant you had a question.

He looked up. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"I have a hockey question."

He laughed. "You? A hockey question? This oughta be good."

You leaned against the wall. "So... if I got absolutely checked into the boards during a game..."

Jack froze with one skate halfway off. "By who?"

"No one."

"Bug."

"It didn't happen."

He narrowed his eyes. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He finally relaxed. "Okay."

You waited. "How long do you think it'd take me to get back up?"

Jack stared at you for a few seconds before letting out a laugh. "You?"

"Yeah."

He looked you up and down dramatically. "Like... a real NHL hit?"

"Yep."

Jack rubbed his chin as if he were genuinely analyzing game film. "Hmmm I think probably 5 minutes if I did it, or never if it were someone like McAvoy."

Your mouth fell open. "Five minutes or never?"

"You'd get the wind knocked completely out of you."

"I would not."

"You would." He pointed at you with the lace from his skate. "First, you'd just lay there trying to remember your own name."

"I have played hockey before."

"Yeah, but not against six-foot-four defensemen who think feelings are optional."

You rolled your eyes. "I still think I'd get up faster."

Jack grinned. "You probably would, but only out of pure stubbornness." He laughed. "But you'd definitely be making that face."

"What face?"

"The one where you're pretending you're fine while you're actually rethinking every life decision that got you there."

----

Luke

Luke was standing in the kitchen making coffee when you wandered in. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Morning, sweetheart."

You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. "Can I ask you something?"

"What’s up, baby?"

"If I got checked into the boards–"

The coffee machine beeped. Luke didn't move. "No."

You blinked. "You didn't even let me finish."

"I don't need to."

"It didn't actually happen."

He slowly turned around. His smile had completely disappeared. "Did someone hit you?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Luke."

"Were you skating?"

"No."

"Did somebody shove you?"

"No."

"Fall?"

"No."

He searched your face for another few seconds before finally believing you. "Fine, continue."

You smiled. "Hypothetically, if I got absolutely flattened into the boards, how long would it take me to get up?"

Luke sighed. "You're not getting up."

You laughed. "What?"

"I said you're not getting up."

"Luke."

"I'm already over the boards."

"You can't go over the boards."

"I don't care." He folded his arms. "The game's stopping."

"You don't have that authority."

"I'll make them stop. I'm serious."

You giggled. "I know you are."

"If somebody hits you hard enough that you're staying down," His jaw tightened. "I'm not waiting to see if you're okay."

"You know this isn't real, right?"

"I don't care if it's hypothetical." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I watched you almost die once." His voice had gotten noticeably quieter. "I'm never taking chances with you again."

Your smile softened. "So... how long?"

Luke didn't even hesitate. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"Because you wouldn't be getting up by yourself." He shrugged like it was obvious. "I'd be there before you even tried."

"You'd get kicked out."

"Fine. I'll get kicked out."

"You'd get fined."

"I'll pay it."

"You'd probably get suspended."

"Worth it."

You couldn't stop laughing. "Luke."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

He gently squeezed your hand. "You don't ever have to prove you're okay to me anymore. I'll carry you off the ice myself."

-----

Nico

Nico had just finished his workout and was refilling his water bottle when you caught him outside the gym.

"Cap."

He smiled. "Hi Schwöschterli."

"I have an important question."

"I don't like the way you said that."

"If I got checked into the boards..."

His eyebrows shot up. "Did you?"

"No."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He nodded once. "Okay."

"How long do you think it'd take me to get back up?"

Nico thought about it much longer than anyone else had. He looked at your height and build, then imagined you getting crushed by an NHL defenseman.

He sighed. "Honestly?"

"Mhm."

"I think... twenty-five seconds."

"Twenty-five?"

"You'd get the wind knocked out of you."

"So does everyone apparently."

"Because you're tiny."

"I'm not tiny."

"You are compared to us." He smiled. "And you'd probably try to stand before you actually could."

"I would."

"I know, you'd get halfway up, then realize your legs weren't listening."

You laughed. "Probably."

"And then you'd be embarrassed because everyone was looking at you."

"Definitely."

Nico chuckled. "But eventually, you'd get up, you always do."

-----

Gritsy

You found Arseny sitting on the floor against the wall of the Prudential center, eating a protein bar.

"Gritsy."

He looked up with a smile. "Bug."

"I have a question."

"Okay."

"If I got checked into the boards–"

The smile disappeared. "No."

"It didn't happen."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

He visibly relaxed. "Okay."

"How long do you think it'd take me to get up?"

He frowned. He looked genuinely concerned. "Mmm… Twenty minute."

You burst out laughing. "Twenty minutes?"

"Yes."

"Gritsy!"

"You stay."

"I do not."

"I call doctor."

"It isn't that bad."

"I bring stretcher."

"You are so dramatic."

He shook his head. "No." He pointed at you. "You little." Then pointed at himself. "They big."

You couldn't even argue with that logic. "So you're saying I'd just lie there for twenty minutes?"

He nodded seriously. "I carry."

"You'd carry me?"

"Yes."

"You weigh almost as much as I do."

"I strong." He flexed one arm proudly. "I can carry you."

"Like a princess?"

He thought for a second. "Like potato."

You started laughing so hard you had to grab the wall. "A potato?"

"Safe potato."

"I don't think potatoes are usually carried safely."

"They are if me."

-----

Cody

Cody was sitting in the players' lounge watching highlights when you dropped onto the couch beside him.

He barely looked away from the TV. "What's up?"

"If I got checked into the boards..."

He paused the video. "Should I be concerned?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

He leaned back. "How hard?"

"Pretty hard."

He looked at you for a long moment. "Honestly? I'm giving you... two minutes."

Your jaw dropped. "Two minutes?!"

"You'd get absolutely folded."

"I would not get folded."

"You'd bounce."

"Cody."

"You'd hit the boards, slide down them, question everything, and then eventually stand up because you're too stubborn to stay down."

You laughed. "I hate that everyone keeps saying I'm stubborn."

"Because you are." He shrugged. "And then you'd spend the next week insisting it didn't hurt."

"It wouldn't." 

He just gave you a look. "You are talking to professional hockey players."

"...Fair."

------------------

That night, you flopped down beside Luke on the couch.

"So I asked everyone."

Luke glanced away from the game. "Everyone?"

"Jack said five minutes."

He nodded once. "Of course he did, he’s ridiculous."

"Nico said twenty-five seconds."

"More realistic."

"Gritsy said twenty minutes."

Luke blinked. "Twenty minutes?"

"He said he'd carry me like a potato."

Luke stared at you for a moment before groaning. "Now I've got competition."

You burst into laughter. "He called me a potato."

"He likes potatoes."

"He does."

Luke wrapped an arm tightly around your waist and pulled you against his chest. "You're not getting checked into the boards."

"I know."

"You're not even getting close enough to the boards."

You looked up at him. "Lukey."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"If you're on the ice with me?" He kissed the top of your head. "I'm between you and anyone who's even thinking about hitting you."

"You'd get a penalty."

"I'd get a lot worse than a penalty." His voice was calm, almost too calm. "I already know what it's like to almost lose you." His arm tightened just a little. "I'm not interested in finding out what it feels like a second time."

You melted against him, wrapping your own arms around his middle. "You're ridiculous."

"I am."

"But you're still my safe potato."

You snorted. "I cannot believe Gritsy started this."

"And I cannot believe he got to call you a potato before I did."

That earned him an eye roll, and a kiss anyway.

--------

Comments:

lukehughes_06: Why are we even entertaining this question??

↳ yn_buggy: Research. ❤️

↳ jackhughes: She told every single one of us it was hypothetical

↳ nicohischier: She made it sound very convincing

-----

user23891: Luke going "you're not getting up because I'M picking you up" 😭😭😭

-----

devilsfan97: Luke's trauma from her accident really shows in the way he answered 🥹

-----

hughesgirl: "I'll get suspended." "Worth it." THAT MAN WAS NOT JOKING

-----

njdevilsfan: Luke was ready to fight an imaginary person 😭

-----

hockeygirlie: "Who hit you?" "It didn't happen." "WHO HIT YOU?" 💀

-----

jackhughes: I knew it wasn't real and I STILL looked around for whoever hit her

↳ yn_buggy: You all failed the test

↳ jackhughes: THERE WAS A TEST???

-----

gritsyfan: Gritsy saying "I carry like potato" has me crying

↳ arsygritsy: Safe potato 👍🥔

↳ yn_buggy: Thank you for keeping me safe, apparently

-----

codyfan: Cody saying she'd "bounce" was FOUL 😭

↳ codglass: I stand by it

-----

hughesedits: Luke genuinely looked stressed before she even finished the sentence

-----

devilsdaily: The room got ten degrees colder when she said "checked into the boards"

-----

hockeymom22: As someone who watched the video of what she posted after what she went through after the accident... Luke's answer made me emotional.

-----

user88291: "I watched you almost die once." EXCUSE ME???

↳ yn_buggy: 🥺❤️

-----

jackattack: Jack saying she'd lay there dramatically is SO HER

↳ yn_buggy: LIES

↳ jackhughes: Truth hurts

-----

lukeswife: Luke would've climbed over the glass before the whistle even blew

↳ lhughes_06: Correct.

↳ yn_buggy: BABE THAT'S A PENALTY

↳ lhughes_06: Worth it.

-----

devilsfan445: Nico actually analyzed the physics of it 😭

↳ nicohischier: I was answering seriously.

-----

user0087: "Twenty-five seconds." Nico was calculating velocity and body mass in his head 😭

-----

arsenyfan: Gritsy looked genuinely horrified 😭😭

↳ arsygritsy: She little.

↳ yn_buggy: APPARENTLY I'M VERY LITTLE

↳ arsygritsy: Yes.

-----

hockeytok: Luke has absolutely zero chill when it comes to Bug and honestly I respect it

-----

user6363: The silence after "If I got checked into the boards..." from EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM 😭

-----

devilsedits: Nobody answered the question first. Every single one asked WHO HIT YOU 😭

-----

ynbuggyfan: Luke didn't even give a time 😭

↳ lhughes_06: Because she wouldn't be getting up alone.

↳ user33782: I'M SOBBING

-----

quinnhughes: I'm with Luke.

↳ yn_buggy: You weren't even in the video???

↳ quinnhughes: Doesn't matter.

-----

trevorzegras: You forgot to ask me.

↳ yn_buggy: parasite, why would I ask you for help?? You would've laughed first 😑😑

↳ trevorzegras: ...probably

↳ lhughes_06: definitely.

-----

user1717: "I'll pay the fine." Sir that's not how this works 😭

↳ lhughes_06: Sounds like it worked.

-----

hischierfan: Nico: thoughtful. Jack: sarcastic. Cody: brutally honest. Gritsy: potato. Luke: murder.

↳ yn_buggy: This is the best summary.

-----

devilsnation: Luke still hasn’t recovered from her accident and you can tell.

-----

user4481: The way Luke's voice got quieter when he said he'd already almost lost her...😭

-----

hockeyclips: "You're my safe potato." HELP

↳ arsygritsy: OUR potato.

↳ lhughes_06: No.

↳ arsygritsy: 😐

↳ yn_buggy: I'M NOT A COMMUNITY POTATO 😭

-----

#1

theres something so gentle yet irritatingly attractive about the way mack loves. the moment his girlfriend is near, the rest of the world simply fades away. she has him entirely wrapped around her finger, and hes content to spend every moment to be the best for her. its in the way he bends down to catch her voice over a loud crowd, or how he instinctively wipes a smudge of food from her lips and licks his own thumb without a second thought. the chaste kiss he plants just beneath her ear, breathing her in deeply because she complained once that a kiss anywhere else would ruin her makeup, or the way he unloops his belt after a long day, his eyes absentmindedly locked onto hers as he chuckles at her daily storytelling. all of those small things, a presence so caring and gentle towards her, yet just enough to unfortunately drive her mind into entirely perverted thoughts.

#2

his eyes crease with a smile every time his phone lights up with a picture of a new set of nails. ‘new set, do we likee?’ she texts, showing off dainty hands decorated in red and white polka dots. hes giddy, already craving the soft arm scratches waiting for him at home. frankly, if he were stranded on a desert island with directions to water in one direction or cuddling with his girlfriend while he feels light scratches on his arm that's laced around her waist in the other, consider him parched. replying back with a quick ‘love em baby,’ his mind wanders to their nightly routine; him laying flat on top of her, all his warmth harvested by her body and graciously repaid by soft back scratches while she scrolls through her phone. he shivers at the thought. oh how he cant wait to head home early today.

#3

mack studies her girlfriend with so much focus, learning every detail, need, and preference like he might run out of air the second he stops showing his adoration. he relishes her directness, hoarding her reassurance like treasure. so when he notices her zoning in on him, a massive, giddy smile threatens to break across his face. oh she likes this! wait, what did i do? she liked that! he thinks.

opting for a cheeky grin, he offers a playful, “what?” to mask the fact that his heart is thumping like a schoolboy.

“nothing. your adams apple like.. moves when you drink, i mean,” she mumbles, snapping out of her trance with a coy smile.

“yeah?” he teases, keeping the unblinking eye contact. he slowly drags the soda can back to his lips, taking a long, deliberate sip just to watch her eyes dart straight back down to his throat. so she likes that. 

“fuck off, mack,” she laughs softly, swatting at him as they both chuckle at the realization. of course her sweet boyfriend always makes it a personal mission to note down every little thing she finds attractive.

#4

captain on ice, all the weight of that title evaporates the second he hears the sweet nickname his girl saves just for him.

“hi puppy, i missed you so much.” she calls out, finally standing in front of him, arms spread wide for a long-awaited hug after his grueling trip to switzerland.

he buries his face into her shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around her as her hands roam up his back to trace soft, soothing patterns into his hair. theres just something so eccentric about how her delicate frame can completely dismantle a 6 foot tall hockey player. a silly nickname and the scent of fresh linen are all it takes to leave him embarrassingly weak and red, a side of him no player on ice would ever get out of him without a fight.

#5

his eyes constantly anchored to her, his mind is basically conditioned to prioritize her over everything else. right now, her legs are draped across his thighs on the sofa, the tv paused on a particularly frustrating episode of love island. his body angled completely towards her, he listens intently to her heated rant about one of the couples, her hands in full gestures while explaining the drama. mid sentence, her eyes drift to the cup of water on the table, giving a faint nod toward it without missing a beat. his brain instantly takes the hint, reaching over to hand her the cup, and watches fondly as she takes a small sip before handing it back with a mumbled, ‘thank you, baby.’ his gummy smile breaks across his face at the subtle praise, pride swelling in his chest over how good he is for her. he sinks back into the cushions, one hand resuming its soothing circles against her leg while the other holds the cup close to his chest, ready and waiting for whenever she needs it next.

#6

its embarrassing for him, really, how compliant he gets during sex, even if his girlfriend reminds him constantly that its exactly what she loves most about their nights together. so caring and attentive in their day to day activities; she loves how much he takes care of her, guiding her through a crowd with his hand against her back, yet she adores him the most when its her turn to guide him during their nights instead.

on one of their first nights, he had tried so hard to take the lead, stumbling over his own words as he whispered pathetic dirty talk to get her on. if anything, it only made him more anxious, spiraling over whether she was actually enjoying it. when he heard her hiss at his initial intrusion, his eyes darted up to her face.

“fuck, does that hurt? im so sorry baby, oh my god, im sorry wait, let me-” he blurted in a panic, moving to pull out, only to feel her clench down around him. he looked back up to find her staring down at him, lips parted as the gears turned in her head.

“its okay mack, go on” she whispered after a beat of silence.

it finally clicked to him the moment a silly nickname slipped past her lips while her hands worked over him.

“youre so good puppy,” she exhaled, thighs caging his hips on the couch. his eyes widened at the praise, grip tightening against her hips. his stomach clenching as he let out the sweetest, undone noise before spilling all over her hands. it was a shock to them both, but the revelation changed everything, like an angel just gained her wings.

The thermometer finally reads 98.6°F and you breathe a sigh of relief as you pull it from Macklin's mouth. After six days of nursing him through a nasty flu, your boyfriend is finally fever-free. Though he's still a bit weak, the worst has passed.

"Thank god," Macklin rasps, his voice still hoarse from coughing. "I thought I was going to die."

"You were dramatic," you tease, setting the thermometer aside and pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. "But definitely better."

His eyes, which have been half-closed with exhaustion all week, now spark with something else entirely. His hand shoots out to grab your wrist, pulling you closer. "I've been wanting to touch you for days," he admits, his voice thick with need. "You've been taking such good care of me and I couldn't even hold you properly without worrying about getting you sick."

You allow him to pull you onto the bed beside him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Is that so? And what exactly did you want to do to me?"

Macklin's cheeks flush, but he doesn't back down. "Everything," he says simply. "I've been going crazy watching you walk around in those little shorts, bending over to adjust my pillows…" He trails off, swallowing hard. "Please let me touch you."

"Someone's eager," you murmur, trailing your fingers down his chest. "You sure you have enough energy for that? You were practically dead yesterday."

"For you? Always," he insists, though his breathing hitches as your fingers dip below the waistband of his sweatpants. "Fuck, please don't tease me. I've been waiting all week."

"Patience is a virtue," you tease, but you oblige him, wrapping your hand around his already hard length. His hips buck immediately, a desperate sound escaping his throat.

"Jesus," he whines, his hands fisting in the sheets. "I've missed your hands so much."

"You've missed this?" you ask, giving him a slow, deliberate stroke. "Or have you missed something else?"

"Everything," he gasps. "Your hands, your mouth, the way you feel…" His eyes are dark with need as he watches you work him. "Can I… can I touch you too?"

You nod and his hands immediately move to your hips, gripping you tightly as if afraid you might disappear. His touch is desperate, needy and you can't help but feel a surge of affection mixed with amusement at how worked up he's gotten from just a few touches.

"Look at you," you murmur, increasing your pace slightly. "So desperate already. We've barely started."

"I can't help it," he whines, his hips thrusting to meet your strokes. "It's been so long. And watching you take care of me all week… you're so good to me."

"That's right," you praise, leaning down to press a kiss to his jaw. "I take very good care of you, don't I?"

He nods frantically, his breathing growing ragged as you twist your wrist on the upstroke. "Gonna come already," he admits with embarrassment. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," you whisper, releasing him from your grip. "Let me help with that."

Before he can protest, you're sliding down his body, taking him into your mouth. Macklin cries out, his hands tangling in your hair as you take him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants, his hips jerking erratically. "Not gonna last."

You hum around him, the vibrations sending him closer to the edge. His thighs tense beneath your hands and you can feel him pulsing against your tongue.

"Please," he begs, his voice breaking. "I need to come so bad."

With a final swirl of your tongue, he spills into your mouth with a guttural moan, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. You continue to work him through it, swallowing every drop until he's completely spent.

When you pull back, Macklin is staring at you with wide eyes, his chest heaving. "Fuck," he breathes out. "That was… embarrassingly fast."

You crawl back up to lie beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Don't worry about it," you assure him. "You were sick and desperate. We have all weekend to make up for lost time."

A slow grin spreads across his face as he pulls you close. "Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely," you laugh, settling against his chest. "But first, you need to rest. You're still recovering, remember?"

He groans but doesn't argue, too content to have you back in his arms properly. "Fine," he concedes. "But tomorrow, you're all mine."

you've been a new york rangers die-hard since you were a kid, jersey collection deeper than most, stats memorized like trivia night gold. that's how you and matt clicked so fast, he loved that you could trash-talk the isles or debate line changes without him explaining a thing. now, you're at almost every practice, perched on the bench or chatting in the lounge, and everyone's favorite unofficial team mascot. they all know you're matt's girl. everyone.

today's no different. practice wraps, and you're laughing with alexis lafrenière about that overtime winner against the habs last week.

"dude, your celly was insane,"

you say, bumping his shoulder playfully.

"i rewatched it like five times."

lafrenière grins, that easy french-canadian charm on full blast.

"you think? next one, i'll do it just for you."

he winks, leaning a bit closer, hand lingering on your arm as he gestures wildly recounting the play.

from across the room, matt watches. helmet already off, hair a sweaty mess, towel around his neck. he's trying not to care, *duh* he knows you. knows you'd never. knows laf is just being laf, friendly with everyone. but something twists in his chest anyway. not anger. but, maybe he doesn't love sharing. he skates over slowly, towering even off ice in his gear, and drops onto the bench beside you. without a word, his big hands find your waist, pulling you gently but firmly onto his lap. you yelp in surprise, settling against his chest as he wraps arms around you like it's the most natural thing.

"hey babe,"

his lips brushing your ear, voice all gravel and warmth. his chin rests on your shoulder, eyes flicking to lafrenière with that subtle rempe stare, not mean, just to be clear. she’s mine.

lafrenière catches it immediately, hands up in mock surrender.

"whoa, big guy. just talking hockey." he laughs, backing off with a nod.

"i'll catch you later, y/n. good chat."

you twist to look at matt, eyebrows raised, but you're smiling.

"jealous much?"

he huffs, but his grip tightens affectionately, thumb tracing circles on your hip.

"not jealous," he lies, nuzzling your neck.

"just... reminding him. and you." his voice drops.

"you're coming home with me, right?"

you lean back into him, hand sliding up to tangle in his damp hair.

"always, matt. you know that."

he relaxes then he presses a kiss to your jaw, then your lips. the kind that says i trust you, i just love you too much. around you, teammates chuckle, someone yells ‘get a room, rempe!’ but he doesn't care. ignores them all.

later, in the car, his hand on your thigh the whole drive.

"laf's cool," he admits finally. "but he touches your arm one more time..."

you laugh, lacing fingers with his.

"he won't. and even if he does, i'm still your girl."

matt glances over, eyes softly looking at you.

"yeah. my girl." he squeezes your hand.

"don't want anyone thinking otherwise."

you get home, his place, your place now too and he's all over you before the door even clicks shut. backing you against the wall, kisses deeper, hands everywhere. lifting you easily, carrying you to the couch where he pulls you onto his lap again, like earlier but private now.

"love when you talk hockey with them," he whispers between kisses.

"fuck, so damn hot. but love more when you come home with me."

you smile against his mouth. "only ever you, matt."

he likes having a routine to stick to, as basic as it may be. he wakes up, works out every other day, shows up for his shifts at the bar, and tends not to accept invitations for work gatherings after hours, regardless of how much shit his coworkers give him for it. matt couldn’t care less; enjoying your own company isn’t illegal, after all. what others may call lonely, matt calls peaceful.

late spring slips through his fingers like smoke, the heat steadily becoming thicker and more imposing as summer, and matt’s twenty-fourth birthday, looms heavily in the not-so-distant future. it’s a seemingly random milestone, not quite sweet sixteen or freshly twenty one. but this year feels like it carries a little more weight, some sort of marker that he really is getting older.

it’s odd, how out of nowhere, he’s hit with the reality of just how mundane his life really is.

his mom and sister are always grilling him, jabbing their elbows into his sides and ruffling his hair whilst constantly badgering him about when he’s going to settle down, find himself a pretty little wife and have a family. unfortunately, his grumbling and eyerolls never seem to be a successful deterrent, and so matt has resigned himself to a lifetime of interrogation over his life choices, career included. 

being a bartender isn’t a shameful job by any means, and if his arm were twisted enough, he would admit that he doesn’t exactly hate the whole thing. it had initially started as a summer job a few years back, something to keep him busy and make him a little bit of cash at the same time. a win-win situation in his eyes. months soon rolled into years, and still he can’t find it in himself to quit. 

at the very least, it’s something he’s good at, and that knowledge gives him a little bit of peace. for a man who has a tendency to get stuck in his head a lot, to overthink the little things until he spirals, it’s comforting to have a profession that he knows like the back of his hand. 

each shift differs slightly, obviously. it would be insane to expect each night to play out exactly the same as the last, but his job remains the same: read the tickets, make the drinks, engage in the occasional small talk with a few regulars who make a point of coming up to the bar themselves. piece of cake.

so yes, matt’s life is largely lacklustre, and that’s exactly how he likes it to be. then, late one thursday afternoon, as the sun just begins to dip below the horizon, you stumble, quite literally, into matt’s life for the first time. 

rusty’s is slower tonight, the weekend not having officially begun and thus explaining the absence of most of the usual crowd. it gives matt little else to focus on other than the ball of energy bounding over to the bar, smile wide and genuine. 

cade, another bartender with sandy blonde hair and an annoyingly charming personality, whistles lowly in amusement at the sight. matt scoffs at the sound and swats the brim of his coworker’s hat down over his eyes. unaffected, cade merely grins.

“hi.”

your voice is bright and sweet, matching the lopsided smile tugging at your lips, and though the little wave you give the two men should be awkward, it only serves to be endearing. matt hasn’t seen you around here before, he’s sure of it. he’d remember someone like you. 

to his surprise, you don’t begin ordering, or making some sort of pass at either of them like a few girls your age tend to do. instead, you settle against the bar, introduce yourself, and ask if the manager is in. their expressions must shift in confusion, as you’re quick to elaborate.

“oh, he hired me a few days ago,” you explain, soft but not unsure of yourself. “i’m supposed to pick up my apron and stuff? he said to swing by.”

“of course he did,” matt grumbles, rubbing a hand down his face.

it’s not that he’s frustrated at you, no. quite the opposite. he’s pissed at his boss, who made no move to tell anyone he was hiring new staff, nor any effort to actually show up to greet the poor girl on the day he said he would. 

before his gruff attitude can make you falter, his coworker chimes in quickly.

“don’t worry about him,” cade quips, pointedly shooting matt a shit-eating grin as he jabs his elbow into his ribs. “rempe here’s had a stick wedged up his ass since he started. ain’t nothing personal.”

figuring that he should at least try to make a good impression, matt gives you a small smile, only feeling a little awkward. he cracks his neck, scratches where his hair begins to curl at the nape — he must get it cut soon — and speaks up.

“boss isn’t in tonight,” he begins. “but i can probably hunt down a spare apron out back. i’ll try to get you one with the least amount of stains.”

by all means, it’s an awful joke, barely even scratching the surface of comedy. but you let out a small laugh, grin genuine and thankful, and for a moment, matt tunes into the sound of your laughter and your laughter alone.

“thanks. it’s awful kind of you.” you almost sound surprised by the small act of decency. 

matt must be exhausted, eyes growing tired and bleary, because he swears you start to glow a little in the dim bar lights. he rubs at them with one hand, trying to clear his vision. 

“yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it, sunshine.”

the words escape him before he can stop them, and he’s already turning away when you speak again, causing him to pause. 

“sunshine?” you echo, tone slightly puzzled.

“yeah. cause you’re, like, y’know…” matt trails off, lazily gesturing up and down your frame with one hand, as though that little flick of his wrist explains everything. “you. y’seem too happy to be working in this shithole.”

“huh.” you’re quiet for a moment, letting his words bounce around in your mind like a pinball, thoughts wild and giddy. “i ain’t never had a nickname before.”

“no?” matt raises one brow. “well. you got one now.”

and that you do.

from that day on, matt never calls you anything else. no, you’re always sunshine, in that same facetious tone that you can’t help but smile at. somehow, it doesn’t feel mocking or malicious. if anything, it feels like a way to include you, welcome you into the place’s bubble easily. 

three shifts deep, it becomes clear that you’re not entirely used to working in a place like this. 

there’s no denying that you have the personality for the job – hell, you’ve got half of the regulars wrapped around your little finger already – and your work ethic more than shines through in your enthusiasm to do a good job. you’re just a little uncoordinated sometimes, is all. 

darting around behind the narrow bar, the thought of making your presence known with something as simple as a ‘behind!’ completely slips your mind. you only realise your mistake when all two-hundred-and-something pounds of matt rempe crashes straight into you. 

you would have gone flying, had his reflexes not kicked in quickly and allowed him to catch you with one large hand, thumb barely brushing the small sliver of skin between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. 

“jesus, easy.” matt’s touch lingers long enough to stabilise you, and then the warmth of his skin on yours is gone as quickly as it came. “almost knocked you on your ass, sunshine. you alright?”

heart racing with what you presume to be adrenaline from your near fall, you nod with a breathless laugh, finding your own clumsiness more than a little amusing. with the confirmation that you’re okay, matt’s tone turns slightly chiding. 

“hell are you doing back here anyways?” he enquires, pulling a rag from his back pocket to thoughtlessly wipe at a small spillage on the bar top. “y’know, waitresses usually hang out on the other side of the bar.”

“oh, i know,” you assure easily, fixing a wayward strand of hair that’s fallen into your eyes. “i was just looking for another pen. i lost mine.”

in the short time you’ve been here, matt has come to learn that misplacing things seems to be your speciality. whether it’s the hair tie you had on your wrist literally moments prior to starting your shift, or your notepad, you seem to have a terrible time keeping track of the whereabouts of your possessions. lucky for you, matt always overprepares.

digging into his jean pocket, he huffs a little as he pulls out a black biro and holds it out to you, missing the way your eyes linger on the subtle swell of his bicep.

“here. i don’t use it anyways.”

the pen is quickly tucked behind your ear with a grateful smile and a promise to return it come the end of the night, and just as you’re about to return to the floor, matt speaks again, pulling you back into the conversation.

“we oughta get you a bell or somethin’. let everyone know when you’re coming.”

the idea is ridiculous, and the thought of you jingling with every step makes you roll your eyes playfully. unable to stop yourself, you swat at his toned arm, grinning.

“buy one for me, and then we’ll talk.”

matt’s laugh comes in the form of a short exhale through his nose, and then he nods, indicating the conversation has come to an end. then, he’s back to mindlessly wiping over the already clean counter. taking the hint, you wander back out to the floor, well aware of matt’s pen perched behind your ear. 

it’s only later that night, when you’re half asleep and getting ready for bed, that you realise you’ve forgotten to return it. you brush your thumb along the nib, watching black ink bloom on your fingertip, and smile softly before tucking it back into your bag.

even when he spots it back behind your ear the next day, matt never asks for it back.

a week or so later, another quirk of yours makes itself known. 

in your defence, the bar is packed tonight, crammed with regulars and other patrons alike, and you’re run ragged trying to keep on top of the various orders and requests being thrown your way.

when you rush up to the bar, ticket already outstretched, matt prepares himself to get through the order as quickly as possible in order to keep up with the never-ending demand for alcohol.

he makes a point of grabbing the very corner of the paper, leaving no room to accidentally graze your neatly manicured fingers as he takes the ticket from your hands, and jesus christ, your handwriting really is something else. a huff of laughter escapes him before he can stifle it.

“what the fuck is this?”

“a ticket,” you state simply, resting your hands on the slightly sticky bartop as you peer up at him, bouncing once on your toes. 

“it’s hieroglyphics, is what it is,” matt scoffs, though the sound, somehow, isn’t unkind. he makes a show of squinting at the loopy black ink, moving the crumpled paper closer to and farther from his face until he hears you giggle over the general cacophony of bar noise. “you seriously write like this?”

“he was talkin’ super fast. i was trying to keep up,” you shrug, holding your hand out in a silent request for your ticket back. “it’s not that bad.”

“it’s illegible, sunshine. whole point of these is for us bartenders to be able to read ‘em.”

still, he makes no effort to refuse your wordless request. you clearly don’t share his same concerns regarding personal space, as you accidentally grab the tip of his thumb in the process of taking your ticket back, not even blinking at the contact. 

matt hardly has time to dwell on the weird pang in his chest, though, because suddenly you’re reading the order back to him at a snail’s pace, playfully enunciating every syllable in every drink, eyes glinting with mischief. 

“oh, very funny,” matt croons dryly.

even so, he finds himself moving, beginning to prepare the drinks that fall from your lips. he doesn’t even roll his eyes when you make some stupid, cheesy comment about teamwork and dreamwork. 

had it been anyone else, matt probably would’ve found himself getting frustrated at the overly cheery and slightly scatter-brained demeanour. hell, he’s cursed cade out for far less, and has made a reputation out of grumbling under his breath any time someone so much as slightly inconveniences him.

but with you, it’s just… different. endearing, even.

maybe it’s the fact that you’re so earnest, so determined to do the best you can and get a smile out of every person you come into contact with. 

or maybe, it’s simply the proximity. working together for hours on end multiple times a week means that you always seem to be around, your presence comforting rather than annoying. you hang around, not so much like a buzzing fly, but more a puppy sidling up to his side and demanding attention. 

slowly, he becomes accustomed to your constant stream of chatter, learns to placate your endless rambling with well-timed ‘mhm’s and ‘oh yeah?’s that don’t give away how closely he’s actually listening to your every word. 

fond would most accurately describe matt’s feelings towards you, and suddenly your nickname seems more apt than ever; like sunshine, you shine brightly, lending your warmth to those around you and drawing them into your orbit. perhaps that makes matt the moon, but he’s not a poet.

worse, other people slowly start to notice the soft spot matt harbours for you. if cade isn’t shooting him smug looks every time that the two of you interact, a regular is making a snide joke about him being wrapped around your little finger. frustration bubbles up in him each time, because deep down, matt knows that it’s true.

it’s a humid friday night, around eleven pm, when the cracks in matt’s grumpy facade begin to appear more clearly. 

multitasking has never quite been one of his biggest talents, and yet matt still finds a way to keep an eye on you amidst the chaos of the weekend rush. you’re a blur of limbs, dashing from table to table, and the first drops of perspiration on your brow give you a subtle glow. 

how you make sweating look good, matt has no idea. beyond that, though, matt can see the small glint of panic in your eyes, the adrenaline that pairs well with keeping on top of a full house. with every trip back to the bar, he notices the growing shake to your hands, the more frantic pace of your words, and he has to do something about it before you explode.

another ticket is slammed onto the bar, and the lingering ring of condensation where a beer glass once sat begins to seep into the paper, bleeding the ink. matt hardly glances at it, eyes focused on you instead.

“you okay?” he enquires.

his tone isn’t harsh, but direct, and you find yourself unable to lie to him.

“fine. just–” you cut yourself off and shake your hands beside your head, a vague and chaotic gesture. “overwhelmed. place is busy tonight.”

and yeah, you’re right there.

not only is the bar near wall-to-wall with customers, you’re also most definitely understaffed, causing the few employees actually scheduled tonight to work twice as hard to keep up. you’ve all been go-go-go, and though watching you run around like a headless chicken all night has been pretty impressive, matt doesn’t want you to burn out before the end of your shift. 

the drinks for table whoever can wait one minute: matt’s priority right now is you, and ensuring that you’re hydrated. wordlessly, he moves to grab a glass, shovelling in some ice before filling it with water. 

not allowing himself to think twice about it, he grabs one of the ridiculous bendy straws that his boss insists on keeping around the place – purple, because he imagines you’ll like that – and sticks it unceremoniously into your glass, causing the ice to clink gently.

“there.” his voice is gruff as he nudges the water towards you. “now drink up before you pass out on me. i’m not scraping your ass up off of the floor.”

by all means, it’s a fairly standard gesture, basic decency between coworkers, but you beam up at him as though he’s handed you the moon and all of the sky’s stars with it, promptly gulping down around half the glass. 

even with a straw, you manage to cause a little bit of chaos. a few stray droplets of water escape your lips and trickle down your chin. matt’s eyes trace their path, and he hates himself for wishing his fingers could do the same. 

not noticing the way the man in front of you has fallen silent, you roughly swipe at the wetness with the back of your hand and shove the glass back towards him with a chirped ‘thanks!’. 

matt barely blinks, and you’re gone, mingling effortlessly back into the sea of patrons and swanning from table to table. with your back turned, he doesn’t see the giddiness sparkling between your eyes, but his gaze lingers on your retreating form. 

he curses to himself when he allows his eyes to dart briefly to the swell of your ass, not wanting to be like the very customers he’d gruffly called out for ogling you in the past, all unbeknownst to you. 

“you forgot your–” matt starts, but it’s too late. 

instead, he sighs, picking up the ticket, and begins to decipher your familiar squiggles. you’ll remember to come back for the order eventually. you always do.

everything comes to a head on an evening in early june. 

whose idea it was, matt doesn’t know, but it had been decided that after closing up, the staff would have a couple of drinks together, for ‘team bonding’ or whatever bullshit excuse had been spewed to their boss in order to gain permission to drink on the property after hours. 

usually, matt would decline the offer without hesitation, wanting nothing more than to head home, reheat the leftovers of whatever his mom had made for dinner that night, and after inhaling his food at an alarming speed, immediately crash.

this time, matt knows exactly why he accepts the offer, and he only hates himself a little bit for it.

having grown close to everyone in your short time at rusty’s, you spend the first portion of the night darting between friends, flitting from conversation to conversation and accepting each beer handed your way.

as you grow tipsier, absolutely no one is shocked by your decision to set up camp next to matt, who has spent the better portion of his evening hovering at the stools by the counter, slowly making his way through his second whiskey.

matt says nothing when you slump into the stool by his own, not even when your knee knocks against his. instead, he adjusts to grant you enough room to sit, and lets the comfortable silence linger for a few moments before sparking up conversation.

“having fun?”

“mhm,” you nod, eyes a touch glassy. “‘s nice, seeing everyone.”

you’re not drunk by any means, just tipsy enough that your words are a little looser, mind running a little slower. 

matt opens his mouth to speak, but you’re quicker, cutting him off.

“they said you weren’t gonna come tonight,” you hum, legs swinging ever so slightly as they dangle from the high stool. “said you never come to these things.”

matt snorts at that, lifting his drink in a half salute, as if cheers’ing to that idea.

“i don’t.”

you frown as though the idea upsets you, and though you’re clearly not actually hurt, matt’s stomach twists anyways.

“y’know,” you start up, voice a little softer than it had been previously. “everyone talks about you like, like you’re some stick in the mud. i mean– lucille actually warned me about you on my second shift. said not to take anything you say to heart.”

your cadence is almost like a lullaby, lilting and charming, and it’s apparent that you’re gearing up to start rambling.

“but i think you’re real nice. you’ve always been awful nice t’me,” you continue, taking a small sip of your warming beer. “even when i first started and i was an idiot.”

to your surprise, matt laughs at that, actually laughs, bright and amused, and your heart sings at the new sound. 

“you weren’t an idiot,” matt corrects. “just a little… inexperienced, ‘s all. and now lookit you. you buzz around like you own the place.”

sober you would be embarrassed at the way you preen under his praise, giving him a bashful swat to the arm in a playfully coy manner. you may as well have added an ‘aw, shucks’, with the way you’re acting.

“it’s true,” he continues, sharp grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re good at this, y’know? everyone loves you.”

something shifts at his words, a slight crackle in the air, and matt’s smile drops ever so slightly. brown eyes break their gaze with your own, and instead, he opts to swirl the amber liquid around his glass over making further conversation with you. 

in an effort to seem casual, matt hums, taking a large mouthful of his whiskey as his other hand moves, catching your attention. 

embarrassingly, the movement is largely insignificant. 

matt simply places his hand onto the counter, drumming his long, slender fingers absentmindedly to the rhythm of whatever song is playing over the jukebox, yet it’s more than enough to have you entranced.

drunken logic tells you that if you move slowly enough, matt won’t notice the way your fingers inch closer to his. you move little by little, fingertips shifting in tentative steps, until your pinky barely grazes his own. 

when he makes no effort to pull away, or even provides any indication that he’s caught onto you, your fingers creep closer. millimetre by millimetre, they nudge their way in until they’re partially underneath his much larger ones, sheltered.

indulging you, like he always does, matt pretends not to notice your less than subtle operation until your digits are practically interlaced, and he can’t ignore it any longer. your skin is a little cold from where you’ve been nursing your bottle of beer, but still soft, almost delicate compared to his own.

“you trying t’hold my hand or something, sunshine?” matt quirks an eyebrow, and the corner of his lip threatens to follow.

“no,” you defend quickly, snatching your hand back as though you’ve been burned. 

how you have the nerve to act wounded when being confronted by your own actions, you don’t know. strangely, matt doesn’t seem too disgruntled over the whole ordeal.

“shame.” hand now free, he lifts his glass and tips the remaining mouthful of whiskey down his throat. warmth blooms behind his ribs, and he speaks again. “wouldn’t have minded all too much.”

had his heart not been pounding behind his ribcage, matt would’ve burst into laughter at the sheer amount of shock your facial features are able to convey. he’s surprised your eyes haven’t popped right out of their sockets and onto the table top. 

“no?” you encourage, searching for any ounce of clarification. surely you were misreading this somehow, you had to be. 

“jesus.”

matt groans out a laugh, dragging a large palm over his face before scratching at his jaw. a slight tinge of pink dusts the top of his cheeks, paints his nosebridge dusty rose, and he shrugs.

“you’re real oblivious, huh sunshine?” 

you continue to blink dumbly at him, and matt exhales sharply, before reaching out to grasp your hand in his own. not quite used to such affection, his hold is a touch rough, a little too tight, but it’s not claustrophobic. instead, it’s as though he’s latching onto you, not wanting to risk losing you before he can even have you. 

“i don’t-” you stammer, and matt cuts you off with another gentle sigh.

his eyes lock onto yours, gaze intense, and it prompts you to listen closely to whatever he’s about to say.

“you ever notice how i treat you different to everyone else? i let you yap my ear off without complaining, i let you wear my hat that one time, i mean– i call you sunshine, for christ’s sake.”

seeing it all spelled out makes you realise how much of an idiot you are. you’d been pining for god knows how long, and had been too invested in your own little crush to realise your feelings had been reciprocated this whole time. they’d just been displayed in matt’s own little way. 

“you like me,” you assess, words feeling heavy in your mouth as you speak them clumsily.

matt feels awful for laughing, because he’s not laughing at you, but the situation itself. how he’s managed to make what should have been a simple confession of feelings into a whole ordeal is beyond him, but now he’s determined to see it through.

“look, you in tomorrow?” he asks, and when you nod, his smile softens further. “good. gives me time to get some flowers and ask you out proper. think you’ll get it through that pretty little head then?”

unless his ears deceive him, matt swears you let out an actual squeak of excitement, and he produces another fond huff as he squeezes your hand once before letting go. it’s strange, how he finds himself not wanting to cut the night short, but it’s getting late, and matt now has plans to hit the farmer’s market to purchase a bouquet of flowers before his five pm start tomorrow. 

“i’m heading out,” matt announces, voice low and smooth as he ducks to speak into your ear. “get home safe, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow, sunshine.”

all you can do is watch as he shoots you a crooked smile, grabs his jacket, and slips out of the bar without another word to anyone else. your eyes linger on the doorway long after he’s left, your mind replaying the past five minutes of your life over and over, each repeat leaving you dizzier than the last. 

beaming to yourself, you push out of your seat, and head back over to the rest of the group with a skip in your step. amused glances are exchanged amongst the group, yet no one mentions the elephant no longer in the room. it was only a matter of time, after all.

the next day rolls around and, as promised, you get your flowers, and matt gets his date. the town may be small but his feelings for you are anything but, and so, he plans the best date he can, a meal at a diner followed by star-gazing in an open field, his hand laced with yours.

one date turns into two, and then three, and soon, matt wonders how he ever functioned without knowing you. 

soon enough, it’s the end of june, and matt turns twenty four with you by his side. 

While you were going through one of the alleys, Arber stopped. You were looking at your shopping list so you haven’t even noticed that he’s not next to you. 

“Okay we need some sweets” You said but saw Arber far away from you. Your steps led you back to the stop he was standing. “What do you see?” 

“This” Arber pushed something in your hands. 

“Temporary tattoos?” You looked at him. “You know you have a tattoo right?” 

“Thanks Sherlock” Arber rolled your eyes. “We can do matching ones” 

“What?” You were surprised by his words. 

“Look, here’s a dragon, a lion, some weird motivational sentences. We can buy two packages and pranked the guys that we made matching tattoos” Arber looked excited at the idea. 

“I like the part with pranking” You told him. 

“Maybe this will finally make you go and do all the tattoos you dream about” Arber suggested. 

“Maybe” You giggled. 

Back home, Arber placed the bags on the kitchen island. You started to unpack them before he stopped you. 

“Tattoos first, then we can take care of everything” Arber grabbed your hand. 

“Let me at least put the drinks in the refrigerator” You laughed. 

“Fine” Arber sighed and waited for you to finish the task. When you put the last drink, Arber immediately stood up. “Okay, you’re done. Let’s go to the bathroom” 

You never saw Arber so excited like today. His eyes were shining like kids on a christmas day. 

“We need to pick one to have the same in the same place and the rest we can put anywhere we want” Arber told you. 

“How about the letters of our first name?” You proposed. 

“Genius” Arber kissed you. “They’re pretty small so how about putting them on our ring finger?” 

“Oh you’re evil” You said. “I like it” 

“Don’t worry, one day they’ll be real when I put a ring on that finger” Arber told you. 

You cut the letters from the sheets. You put A letter on your finger and Arber gently applied water on it. After a minute you took the paper and looked at the finished product. 

“It looks realistic” You said. 

“It does and I’m so obsessed with this view” Arber was staring at your finger, already imagining that this is what he’ll see in the near future. “Let’s do mine” 

You repeated the action with your initial letter on his finger. Arber was looking at this, already wanting to have this forever. He knew he needed to put the ring on your finger soon. 

“What else do you want?” Arber asked you. 

“I want that snake on my arm. The head on my hand and the rest on my arm” You told him with a smile. 

“Your wish is my command” Arber saluted. He cut the pattern from the sheet and applied water on a paper that was on your arm. He took off the paper after a minute and whistled. “Looks great” 

“It does. I think I really need to go and make a real one” You giggled. 

“Yes you do” Arber kissed you. “Let’s get the living room ready” 

The party started but no one noticed the tattoos on your or Arber finger. People were complimenting the fake tattoo of a snake on your body but no one seems to see the letter A. 

“You fucking did it dude” You heard Florian screaming. You looked around and saw him hugging Arber who was laughing. “Where’s mrs. soon to be Xhekaj?” He asked. 

“I’m here” You walked into the kitchen. 

“I’m so happy for you two” Florian hugged you. “Finally Arber grow the balls to propose, I can’t even tell you how long ago he bought the ring and waited for a right moment” 

“I… Thanks Flo” You were confused about what he was talking about. You looked at Arber who was visibly panicking. 

“Baby, can you go to the bedroom? I’ll be there soon, just need to talk with my brother” Arber gave you a well knowing look and you nodded. When you disappeared, he spoke to his brother. “It was a prank and now I need to propose” 

“Oh I’m sorry” Florian said. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all. You had the ring for six months now? Go and do the right thing. You can thank me later” 

“I’m gonna murder you” Arber told him. 

“I love you too big bro” Florian slapped his arm. 

Arber sighed. This is not how he imagined the proposal but it’s on him. He forgot that Florian knew about the ring and he’d assume that he proposed to you. Well it was now or never. He walked into the bedroom and you smiled at him. 

“What was Flo talking about?” You asked him. 

Arber hasn't said anything. He walked into the closet to grab his bag. He was searching for something. Finally, he pulled out a red velvet box from it and went on one knee. 

“No way” You gasped. 

“I didn’t plan to propose this way” Arber opened the box. “I love you Y/N. You’re my perfect girl and I can’t imagine my life without you. You were with me through everything. Thank you for giving me a chance in high school and thank you for loving me since then. I can’t imagine my life without you and I’m ready to take the next step. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Arber felt anxious. 

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you” You hugged him and you two fell on the floor. “I love you” You kissed him. 

Arber grabbed your hand and placed the ring on top of the temporary tattoo you did an hour ago. 

“Who knew something so silly might turn out to be the best thing ever?” Arber asked. 

“I guess you need to thank your brother” You giggled. 

you and matt have been dating for a few months now, and you’ve done just about everything. except have sex. no matter how much you begged and pleaded with the man, he would not budge on his firm no. 

it wasn’t that matt found you unattractive, or didn’t wanna have sex with you. god, his mouth told you the exact opposite everytime his tongue glides over your cunt. he didn’t wanna hurt you. 

matt was very aware of his size, you were very aware of his size. after all, the length had to match the height, and that was matt’s biggest worry. you weren’t the smallest of girls, but compared to him? you stood no chance. or so he thought. 

you had a plan, though. you wanted him, all of him, and tonight was the night. 

matt had a day off between practices and games and had been gaming all day. you didn’t complain, it gave you more than enough time to plan how you’d actually make it happen. 

you walked on light feet into his gaming room, very careful to not get picked up on his mic. he didn’t mind if you were in here, loved it actually, but you assumed he didn’t want the guys to hear what he was about to fall victim to. 

you crept over to him, giving his head a kiss when you were within reach. matt turned to look at you and brought his large hand up to cover his mic, 

“what ya doin?” 

you gave him a sly smile and uttered a quiet “nothing” before falling to your knees and climbing under his desk. he gave you a stern look, but the way he licked his lips and lifted his hips when you grabbed hold of his sweats told you something else. 

your hand wrapped around his length, just barely covering the girth of it. you ran a thumb against the spot you knew always got him hard almost instantly, before pulling away to spit in your hand.  

the saliva added a slickness that helped you easily glide over the man’s length. matt let out a sigh above you, it mixing into the ramblings of his teammates and not coming to attention. 

you gave him a few more strokes before taking the tip into your mouth and sucking, causing a sharp “oh fuck” to leave the brunettes lips and his knees to jerk toward the top of his desk. he quickly muted his mic, bringing one of his hands down to stroke the side of your face before threading his fingers into your hair and pulling you off of him. 

“let me finish this match, baby, then i promise i’ll take care of you.” you pouted at his words and moved to sit on his lap, his cock rubbing against your folds. his eyes darkened at the feeling of your bare cunt against him. 

“but matty, i want you now,” you paused and stared straight into his eyes while grabbing his length in your hand and lined it up to your entrance, “all of you.”

you finished your sentence by sinking down onto his tip, hissing at the way he stretched you. matt’s head fell back, headset falling to the floor, and his hands gripped at your waist, “don’t wanna hurt you.”

“please. needed you in me all day.” he looked unsure at your words, “are you sure you can take it? it might be too big for you, hun.” you whined at his words, “it’ll fit. just fuck me.” 

the man picked you up, pulling out what little bit of his length was in you, and walked you both over to the bed. he laid you on your stomach and pushed your face down into the mattress, “as much as i’d love to see your face when i went in all the way, it’ll be easier this way. i need you to promise me you’ll let me know if it’s too much.”

“i promise matty, swear it. just please- please fuck me.” he complied with your words, stroking his cock a few times before sliding into you, very slowly. you let out a high-pitched moan, the stretch slightly burning your cunt. 

“oh fuck- you’re so so tight.” matt threw his head back, taking deep breaths to not cum too early. he bottomed out and stayed for a few moments, giving you a chance to fully adjust to his length. it didn’t take long, as you began fucking yourself onto him. moans of his name spilled from your mouth and this is something he’d have on his mind forever. he knew it.

he grabbed onto your back to stop your hips from moving and pulled his length out nearly to the tip before shoving it back into you, you moaning every time he hit that spot deep inside of you. you swore you could feel him in your ribs. he sped up his thrusts, your moans getting louder and more frequent the faster and harder he went. he thrusted a few more times before pulling out of you fully, causing you to whine but it didn’t last for long.

matt grabbed you and flipped you onto your back and was hammering inside of you before you could fully complain about missing him. this view was truly erotic. your face becoming more fucked out, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open. matt couldn’t take his eyes off himself going in and out of your cunt, a ring of cum collecting around the base of his cock. his eyes drifted up and spotted something that truly made him nearly come undone. 

“look baby. you see that?” you lifted your head and looked down. your stomach bulged every time he slid in. you could see him, his cock, poking up with every manic thrust the man above you gave. you nearly came at the sight, but you really started to feel the knot when matt placed his hand over where is cock was bulging out and applied pressure. 

“oh fuck matty, not gonna last long.” matt’s hair fell in front of his eyes and he leaned over you to go even harder. he brought the hand from your stomach down to your clit and rubbed his thumb over the nerves. your vision went black, and your body began to shake harder than ever before. matt’s orgasm was very shortly behind yours, sped up by the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

he pulled out and came on your stomach, falling to the side of you, chest heaving with heavy breaths. he looked at your face and saw nothing but pure bliss. your eyes were still closed, a small smile on your face. you laid like that for a few more seconds before turning to matt,

「 SJS 」 ⋯ MACKLIN CELEBRINI ⌣ 🔊

(001) | « hey!... so I just left the sharks ice with the car but traffic is so heavy I'm stuck on it... so yeah it might take me a bit longer to arrive to pick you up, I'm sorry. I really hate to be stoped here for God knows how long... anyways I'll let you know when I'm two or three minutes away, love you. »

• • •

(002) | « hi babe! I'm just done at gym and saw the time, just wanted to wish you luck with your exam... you got this, you always do... mhmm let me know when you're done so I can call you. »

• • •

(003) | « hey love! I'm picking up dinner on my way home, so if you were planning on making something... ehm don't hehe... I was thinking of sushi but let me know if you're craving anything else I'm like 10 minutes away so be quick to answer, if not, sushi it is, I'll see you in a bit, love you. »

「 SJS 」 ⋯ WILL SMITH⌣ 🔊

(004) | « Morning beautiful! I'm already on my way to the sharks ice, you weren't awake yet when I left... I've left some coffee on the counter alright? Give me a quick call when you wake up, love you! »

• • •

(005) | « mhmm... I was thinking while practice... what you want for dinner later? I'm really craving that stake that you make... you know the one with that sauce you grandma taught you to do... if you want we can cook it together? let me know what you think, I'll see you later beautiful »

• • •

(006) | « hey love! mack has told me that last night he saw Eternity and we're going to love it, should we watch it tonight? we can cuddle in the sofa while it plays after dinne »

「 CHI 」 ⋯ CONNOR BEDARD⌣ 🔊

(007) | « babe, I'm at the supermarket... I already got the eggs, the milk and some veggies, I'm also getting some coffee and fruit... do you need anything else? I might go down the chocolate aisle and grab something from there, let me know if you want anything specific... I'll see you later! »

• • •

(008) | « baby I just got out of practice... can we please cuddle when I get home? today's training has been... kinda hard... I really want to just lay down and forget it... please let's cuddle when I get there... »

• • •

(009) | « hey pretty! hope you haven't done any plans for later 'cause I've made a reservation in the restaurant we like down town... if you have, then cancel them hehehe today you're mine... can't wait to get home and take you out... see you in a couple of hours, I love you! »

「 NYR 」 ⋯ MATT REMPE⌣ 🔊

(010) | « Y/n babe, I'm on my way to practice and it has started to rain a lot... don't forget your umbrella when you leave for work... and if you need me to pick you up later just give me a call alright?... have a good day I'll see you later »

• • •

(011) | « hey love! the team need to know how many tickets I want for the next few games at home... when we're your parents going to come? was it for the game against the Flayers or the Penguins?... let me know as soon as you can, love you! »

• • •

(012) | « baby, I'm sorry I'm a bit late... hope the dinner is not getting cold hehe... I was buying new flowers for the entrance, because I noticed that the ones we have now are looking a bit ugly... you're going to love them »

「 MTL 」 ⋯ JURAJ SLAFKOVSKY⌣ 🔊

(013) | « morning my love... I know you told me yesterday to wake you up, but you looked so beautiful and relaxed sleeping that I couldn't... I didn't want to bother you on your day off just so you could say goodbye... I kissed you before I left tho so don't worry about that, hehe... Get some rest today, okay? See you later, beautiful »

• • •

(014) | « Y/n, baby, what shampoo do you use exactly? I'm at the supermarket and none of them smell like yours. I think I'm going crazy. Which one was it? »

• • •

(015) | « I already know where we're going on vacation this summer... Nick hasn't stopped talking today about when he was in Iceland and we have to go... we have to check when the northern lights season is and all that, but gosh... I can't wait for us to go on vacation just the two of us »

「 MTL 」 ⋯ ARBER XHEKAJ⌣ 🔊

(016) | « hey love! Cole has told me that a new Italian restaurant has open down town... he told me it is really nice, should we made a reservation and try it this weekend?... because I don't quite remember when you told me that your parents where going to come... we can also invited them and go all together... i don't know tell me what you think »

• • •

(017) | « Y/n, I got home early and put a load of laundry in the washing machine. I set it for the hour and a half cycle, with two capfuls of detergent and another two of softener... the blue kind. Is that okay? Or should I have set it differently? »

• • •

(018) | « Hey, gorgeous! Slaf asked me if we want to go out to dinner with him and his girlfriend later... what do you say? He said they wanted to go to that sushi place we ordered from once and liked... so if you feel like it, we can go with them, and if not, then we can just chill at home... let me know, love you! »

「 SJS 」 ⋯ MACKLIN CELEBRINI ⌣ 🔮

Macklin and you had just finished training together. Since it was a day off for both of you, you had decided to go to the gym together, and for the sake of convenience, you had decided to go home to shower and change instead of doing so in the locker room. Now parked in the garage and still covered in a thin layer of sweat, Mack looked at you with intoxicating intensity. "You're turning me on so much Y/n, that's the same face you make when you suck me off." At those words, you turned around immediately to look at him, aware that, due to the effort you had made, you were still red and slightly out of breath. Without even giving you time to react, he was grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you toward him to kiss you hard. You could feel his teeth colliding with yours and his tongue desperately trying to explore your entire mouth. It didn't take long for you to let out little moans and call his name between breaths. "What's up, baby? Are you going to be nice to me and show me the wonders you can do with that little mouth of yours?Let's get inside baby, you're going to suck my dick just like you know that I like"

「 SJS 」 ⋯ WILL SMITH⌣ 🔮

As usual after the game, Will and you had stayed behind in the stands, greeting his family and talking to some fans who approached him to ask for autographs and photos. That day, a group of boys who were about your age had waited their turn and, while they waited, they struck up a conversation with you, telling you how much they admired Will and that they had been following the Sharks since they were little. He hadn't seen it that way, of course, being at a distance where he couldn't hear what they were saying, jealousy had crept in when he saw how at least three or four boys wouldn't stop talking to you, and his tension had remained until you got in the car to go home together. You had obviously noticed, you knew him too well, so gently touching his arm before he started the car, you asked him if everything was okay. "You were having fun with those guys, weren't you?" You looked at him in disbelief and asked him what he was talking about. "Earlier in the stands, those guys who asked me for a photo, you were talking to them a lot." You couldn't believe what Will was saying; he wasn't usually jealous. You felt his hand rest on your leg and slowly move up your inner thigh. "Answer me, Y/n." You still couldn't formulate a response. You didn't understand where this side of Will was coming from. With his other hand, he leaned slightly toward you and grabbed your face so you would look at him. "I bet you did it on purpose to make me jealous." «No» it was the only thing you could say, even though it came out with a sigh when you felt your boyfriend's cold hand slowly slip into your pants. "No? Are you sure?" You felt him reach your center and press lightly, which made you involuntarily close your legs and let out a small, almost inaudible moan. "Damn, you're dripping wet. Do you like it so much when I touch you like this?" You nodded as his fingers moved faster and faster on your clit. "It makes you so horny when I touch you here, knowing we could get caught. You're such a slut." For the second time since you had been left alone, you turned your head toward Will again, this time with surprise; he had never called you names like that before. You felt the sensation in your pussy intensify, and Will realized that he had made you even hornier. "Mhmm, so my good girl likes to be called that, huh?" Without warning, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants, causing you to groan and simply beg Will to continue. "If you like me calling you a slut so much, let's hurry home so I can fuck you like one."

「 CHI 」 ⋯ CONNOR BEDARD⌣ 🔮

You were so bored waiting for Connor to come home. He had already told you that he would be late because practice had gone on longer than expected, but after trying hundreds of things to entertain yourself, you had come to the conclusion that you had to do something to get Connor to hurry up. And that's what you did. You started innocently by sending him a couple of photos of some new clothes you had bought, trying to make your neckline look more revealing. He replied to your messages saying you looked beautiful, so the next thing you did was show him several of the options you had for the Chicago Blackhawks gala you were attending at the end of the week. The dresses you were considering were all tight-fitting, and you knew that would put Connor on notice. «Can't you wait until I get home?» he asked, to which you replied « no, there's something else I want to show you» It didn't take you long to change and put on the new lingerie set you had bought. It wasn't anything excessive, just a pretty set with some lace, but you knew it drove Connor crazy. You took several photos, one in front of the mirror where your whole body could be seen, another on the bed pointing at your ass, which was completely visible, and the last one without your bra, covering your tits with your hands. You saw how the message changed to "read" and with a little giggle you waited for your boyfriend's reply, but what came in was a call from him. You picked it up and, pressing the phone to your ear, you said an embarrassingly quiet "Hello." "Now you're embarrassed, eh? You're so mean, baby. Listen carefully to what I'm going to say." Without needing to, you nodded slowly. Connor couldn't see you. "You know that vibrator you keep in the bottom drawer?" You interrupted him in surprise. "How do you kno—" "Shut up, you little slut. You're going to get it and start getting ready. You like to play so much, so let's do it. When I get home, I want you to be in bed naked, on all fours with your ass in the air waiting for me. Do you understand?" Breathing erratically, you answered yes, and Connor hung up, saying it would take him twenty minutes at most to finish. You were wetter than you'd like to admit, and as you were getting ready to do what he'd asked, a new message came through: «I want a video of you using that vibrator»

「 NYR 」 ⋯ MATT REMPE⌣ 🔮

It was the middle of summer and it was extremely hot. Being on vacation and having the whole day to yourselves, Matt and you spent your time going from the pool to the sofa and then to bed, repeating this routine for the few days you actually had to do nothing. There was only one thing you missed, and that was sex. With the heat, anything more than a quickie or sporadic touching turned wherever you were into a sauna and made you both tire faster than normal. It was something you had already discussed and agreed to do only if you were desperate. And now, lying by the pool sunbathing while Matt was swimming, he was desperate. "It's torture to see you in a bikini all day and not be able to fuck you whenever we want." Little by little, you sat up a little and, lifting your sunglasses slightly, you replied, "Matt, my love, technically you can fuck me whenever you want, it's just that it's very hot, but you're free to do so." At that, he had gone to one end of the pool and gotten out, grabbing one of the chairs nearby and sitting down in front of you, making you raise an eyebrow, wondering what was going through his head, he told you "Okay, if it's that easy for you... why don't you spread those legs that keep driving me crazy and start touching yourself while I watch?" Without much else to say, you did as he asked, spreading your legs wide enough to be comfortable and starting to pleasure yourself, pulling your bikini aside to give him a perfect view of what you were doing. After several minutes, Matt began to touch his erection over his swimsuit, and shortly after, he said again, "Damn, flip over and lift your ass, I'm going to eat that little pussy, I can't take it anymore."

「 MTL 」 ⋯ ARBER XHEKAJ⌣ 🔮

Arber kept pushing inside you, the constant, frantic, hard pace he was going at making it impossible for you to stop moaning loudly. You repeated his name like a mantra, no longer knowing where to hold on. The sheets weren't enough, and his back must have been covered in your scratches by now. "That's my girl, you like it like that, don't you? Letting me fuck you this rough" You were completely unable to form a whole sentence, so when you tried to answer him, only broken words came out. "Damn I'm really fucking you dumb, aren't I?" Without warning, Arber turned you both around so that now you were on top of him. He sat up a little on the bed so he could lean his back against the headboard and grabbed your ass with his big hands while he spanked you and moved his hips against yours, making his dick slide in and out nonstop. "Come on love, ride me. I want to see your tits bouncing. Put on a show for me."

「 MTL 」 ⋯ JURAJ SLAFKOVSKY⌣ 🔮

The Montreal Canadiens casino night was turning out to be a blast, at least for you and Juraj. It was much better than you could have hoped for. Being able to talk to the other girls, greet your boyfriend's teammates, and, incredibly, be introduced to dozens of executives was much more fun than you could ever have imagined. Juraj couldn't take his eyes off you, and every time he had to tell someone your name and that you were his girlfriend, he did so with his head held high, showing you how proud he was that you were his girl. He couldn't stop touching you either. If he wasn't caressing your lower back with one hand, he had your hand intertwined with his, and if that wasn't the case, he found a way to feel your skin, giving you little caresses on your arm, brushing your hair away from your face, or grazing your bare shoulders. Later that evening, when all the presentations were over and you were just enjoying yourselves, Juraj had come up behind you, wrapped his arms around you, and whispered in your ear, "You look so beautiful in that dress, I can't wait to get home and take it off you." You slowly turned toward him with a smirk on your lips and raised an eyebrow, replying, "You can't even stay still for one evening." He shrugged and smiled back at you, saying, "Don't play innocent now. I'm sure that if I put my hand between your legs, your little pussy will be so wet, just the way I like it." «Try it» you replied, nodding your head toward the bathrooms, and in less than a second, he began to guide you toward them.