#sj24

you are so, so fucking glad that the playoffs are finally over. as happy as you were to see your boyfriend's team make it all the way to the final and win, you are way more happy that they're actually done. and it's for one reason.

the stupid playoff beard tradition. all the guys who can grow beards choose to not shave for the entirety of the playoffs. they all believe it brings good luck or something. but you are very, very against it.

not that seth doesn't look hot with a beard because he totally does. but because seth has a habit. your boyfriend is very much a giver. he absolutely loves going down on you. no matter what time of day or night it is, how tired he is after a game, or if he has practice in like ten minutes; he's going to be between your thighs.

the beard does not allow him to do that. it's not that he couldn't do it; there's no rule against it or anything from the team. but you. you absolutely hate him going down on you when he has the beard. it's scratchy. it burns your thighs. it does not feel good against your sensitive pussy.

so, you'd made it a thing that seth doesn't get to go down on you until after the hurricanes were eliminated. but then they kept winning which prolonged it even more. but now they've won the cup, and there really is just one thing seth wants more than that.

you'd partied with the group for a bit. you are in vegas after all. but then you wanted to go back to your hotel room, and seth was more than eager to come with you. it didn't even register for you that he wants this right now.

he barely even kissed you when you got back to your shared hotel room before going into the bathroom, but it did leave you grimacing at the scratchy feeling of the playoff beard against your skin.

you headed to bed, turning the covers down and planning to settle in for the night. you didn't even look up when he came back in from the bathroom. not until he called out your name.

you looked up, and holy fuck. no more beard. he shaved it. you hadn't even registered the soft buzzing sound of the razor coming from the bathroom, honestly too tired from all the celebrating.

seth grinned, already slowly moving towards you, reaching for the bed sheets.

'pull those sheets down and spread those legs for me. let me see my pretty pussy.' he said.

you laughed, but he also didn't have to tell you twice. you'd barely even pushed the sheets away from you before he was actually hauling them off of the bed entirely.

then he was almost faceplanting onto the bed and making his way up in between your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders. normally, he'd tease. he'd press featherlight kisses along the insides of your thighs, and even down to your knees before he would even think of putting his mouth on your pussy because he likes getting you impatient and you tugging on his hair to pull him towards where you want him.

but not tonight. not when it's been over two full months since he's gotten to taste you, gotten his mouth on you, gotten to eat his favourite meal. he could feast on you for hours if you let him, and those are his full intentions for tonight. he's not gonna stop until you're screaming his name and the entire team knows what the two of you were doing.

he placed his mouth on you right away, licking one long and deep stripe from your slit to your clit and back again with his tongue. you actually jolted. you haven't felt anything like this in a while now. and you know it's your own fault, so you're gonna be in for it.

your thighs instinctively tried to close around seth's head, but he kept them spread open for him.

'missed this.' he whispered against you, sucking your clit into his mouth.

he swirled his tongue around your swollen bud, then dipped back down to your entrance and swirled his tongue around there and then back to your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

he buried his face in you, dragging his tongue back and forth across your bundle of nerves. he pinned your hips down with one hand, keeping your thighs bracketing his head, and then slid two fingers into your entrance so that he could keep his mouth on your clit.

he grinned against you when your hand finally made its way down and into his hair, tugging on the strands to push him closer to your core. which he immediately gave into, moaning at the taste of you that he hasn't gotten in so long.

'seth...' you moaned out.

you hadn't gotten off from this in so long. you're already so close. and seth can tell. so he tightened his grip on you and started licking and sucking at your clit harder, and fingering you faster.

you came with a cry of his name that was so loud guaranteed the entire hotel floor heard it. but he didn't stop licking you through it. even when your thighs tried to close and you tried to push him away, he kept going.

'gotta make up for lost time, baby.' he whispered against you before diving back in.

goodolcanadianboys and 4 others tagged you in a post.

The notification pops across your screen, lighting up your phone in the midst of the night. You furrow your brows in confusion, hesitating for a quick second before finally caving and clicking on the notification. It brings you to a picture of a group of men, all wearing Canadian hockey jerseys, you think the number on the sleeve is the number 24, but you can’t be sure. In the middle of the group stands an average height man with black hair and a scruffy goatee. Seth Jarvis. After you’re done assessing the photo you glance at the caption, @yourusername wanna play some 1v1 w/ @sethjarvis_??

You laugh, not believing that they actually saw your TikTok video that you posted a few days ago. The video was just you talking about how other Olympic athletes, like Seth Jarvis, had much better perks than you did. You made the video as a pure joke, just something for a laugh, but now that Seth and his group of friends has seen it, god, you don’t even know what to do. You click on the comments, deciding to write one for yourself.

@sethjarvis_ @goodolcanadiansboys name a time and place and I’ll be there😉

Yeah, you think to yourself, this is the start of something great.

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The air is chilly but the view is incredible. The gorgeous Milan structures that surround you are like nothing you’ve ever seen before. The city is quiet, the wind has a bite to it but you can hardly feel it through your thick winter coat, gifted to you by Lululemon and Team Canada. The sound of boisterous laughter and chaos starts to fill the air as a group of young men walk towards you, each of them adorning their Seth Jarvis jerseys. One by one they each spot you, offering you a wave of their hand and a smile before jogging to come meet you. You shake each of their hands as they introduce themselves, the last one being Seth himself. He has a shy look across his face as he grips your hand in his, your eyes lock and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

“Hi.” Seth says softly, as if you’re the only one that can hear him. “Hi.” You say back, hand still shaking his. You hear someone behind you clear their throat which makes you and Seth jump apart, heat rising onto your cheeks as you face the group now known as The Good Ol Canadian Boys. “Is it our turn to stare into your eyes like your long lost love now?” That breaks the ice as you fall into a series of giggles, your embarrassment now forgotten. “Aw lay off, would ya?” Seth drawls, punching one of them on his shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout them.” Seth rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed about his friend's words.

“It’s okay Seth. Now, who's ready to film the TikTok cause I have some great ideas!”

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You stand at the top of the slope with your snowboard attached to your feet and all your winter gear is piled on top of you. You pull your goggles down over your eyes as you shift your weight and slide down the slope. The wind bites your exposed face as you fly down the snowy halfpipe, pulling out all your tricks, trying your hardest to win the gold medal. You finish your last trick and land it perfectly, skidding to a stop in front of the cameras and Canada’s own, Seth Jarvis.

Seth watches as you celebrate, your smile is big and bright as you wave to the crowd, the sound of Canadian fans cheering in the back. Seth cheers and claps along with the crowd, his eyes never leave yours. They don’t leave yours even when you make eye contact with him. They don’t stray when he notices you unbuckle your board and start to run over. His eyes only leave yours when you press your lips to his, his wide eyes quickly closing as the bliss from your kiss takes over his body.

You’re mourning the scruffy, bushy, dark hair and you won’t pretend you aren’t. Every time Seth looks over and sees you pouting, he starts to giggle and walks over to plant a kiss on your lips. He turns to you a lot, your presence distracting him from his routine. Usually he shaves after practice, when you’re already at work. He must have really hated the beard, since he’s thrown his whole routine out of whack just to get rid of it.

“Babe, check it out,” Seth says, rinsing his razor and shaking it out before wiping extra shaving cream from his chin. He smiles wide, showing off his crooked teeth. His eyes crinkle and he models both sides of his face for you. “Mutton chops!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly at Seth’s new look. “Are you going to keep that?”

“Aww, you don’t like it,” Seth groans, wandering over to you and pawing at your towel. 

You laugh louder, clutching your towel to prevent him from revealing your body. “It would take a lot of getting used to.”

Seth grins and pecks your lips before pulling back and walking back to the bathroom. “I would’ve killed in Wolverine.”

You choke on your spit, coughing. “You want to be Wolverine?”

“Dude, I would make a career out of real-life Fruit Ninja if I had claws like him,” Seth says. “The mutton chops are just a perk.”

“Get rid of them, Seth. It’s not your look, babe.”

He whines, slumping his shoulders and frowning at you. It’s all an act, which you know, so you stare at him with a raised brow and a knowing smile. Seth breaks first, picking up his razor and lifting it to his face. He shaves the sides away, leaving a handlebar mustache on his face.

Seth turns to you again, lifting his arms and flexing. “Hulk Hogan?” he asks.

“Raging racist,” you reply with a sad nod. “It’s always the icons that end up evil.”

“Can’t be a king without war crimes,” Seth sighs, feigning sadness. You know he’s pretending because of how quickly he raises the razor and shaves the legs of his mustache away. He leaves his normal stache intact, placing the razor on the sink and rinsing his face to get rid of any lingering pieces of hair. He then joins you on the bed, covering you with his body. 

You fit your thumb in the divot of his chin, feeling the smooth skin that is rarely bare. Seth is a goatee guy, which you like, but his stache is your favorite type of facial hair.

“Kept the kitty tickler for my girl,” Seth tells you, his clumsy fingers going through your hair like a wide-toothed comb. 

“The kitty tickler?” you demand, jaw dropping incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah,” Seth says, brushing your shock off. He brushes his thumb and index finger over his mustache, going from the middle to the ends. “You know…” He taps your mound over the towel, then wiggles his fingers, sticking his tongue out flat before speaking. “Kitty… tickler.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you chortle, smiling widely. 

Seth takes offense, drawing his eyebrows together. “I’m not,” he whines. He tugs at your towel. “Do you need me to remind you?”

“I think I do, actually,” you say. “I’m really intrigued by this terminology.”

“Baby,” Seth scoffs with a frown. He slides off the bed and adjusts you so you’re laying flat, knees bent over the edge of the mattress. “The kitty tickler’s a machine. It’s not just a name. Don’t belittle it like that.”

“Oh, my bad,” you reply sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to offend the operator of the machine.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Seth says. “Now I’ve gotta show you how the kitty tickler navigates the bush.”

“Oh my God, fuck off,” you reproach, kicking Seth’s shoulder.