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#hockey ocs
bibyvariable · 4 months
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trust guys i will be fhrposting again.. hockey has just got me SO ILL!!!!
for now here's some personal stuff i've been doing (ocs and all that!!) 💗💘💖
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Hockey gal in color is an oc - Lane Porter! (She's changed jerseys since the last pic i've posted here) Woodmansee folks are from the same universe as Lane. Hayley plays RD, ellis plays LD. Harmon Hellraisers character also another oc (Leslie Douglas). She's a goalie!
Cowgirls in b&w are some d&d npcs i'm fooling around with. Left to right: Sally Lansing, Leith Armstrong, Clare Duffy.
annnf finally girl in the white hat is Frances sullivan... I think i've posted her before alongside some fhr stuff..
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inwayovermyhead · 1 month
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“It’s you!”
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“Despite everything, it’s still you.”
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————————
Hiiii so this is one of my ocs, Jack Moore 😭
He’s with the Canadiens but I accidentally mixed up the team he’s on with the team his boyfriend (Sammy Campbell) is on, so I accidentally Sidnated them lol. We’ll just say this takes place after a Canadiens versus Wild home game and that he’s wearing Sam’s hoodie 😭😭
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d4rkcamelot · 2 months
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oc art for @ghxstshark yerr
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tea-and-finalfantasy · 9 months
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Adri (European heritage but US born): haha Planet of the Bass is sooo funny right Torje (European born): he's saying that but he doesn't even know this is exactly what music sounded like back then other guy--who is European born but who's like 21: oh i was born in 2002 i have no idea what it sounded like either Torje: I'M SORRY??
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imfreesaturday · 10 months
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Storm asks good questions, but Leaf gives better answers
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cupid-styles · 2 months
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omg bestieeeee i so need hocker h nd ballerina to talk and smooch !!!!! ngl i’m a sucker for protective and jealous h 🤭🤭🤭🤭 🐱
I feel like ive made you guys wait way too long for this one gvkdfjgkf
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a continuation of this blurb! (and sort of this one)
word count: 2.3k (we had a lot of ground to cover)
content warnings: minor mentions of smut, slight angst but all is fixed by the end, not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | hockey h masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Two weeks.
Two weeks of radio silence from Y/N.
Two weeks of over-thinking everything he did that night.
Two weeks of Harry drunk texting her on lonely nights.
please just tell me if you hate me
im so sorry
ill leave you alone if its what you want, I just need to know
Each and every time, Y/N read his messages, eyes scanning over the words, and locked her phone.
The truth is, she doesn't know what she wants from him, if anything. She doesn't know why she felt so attracted to him that night — she was tipsy, not drunk, and in complete control of her actions. She never hooked up with people in public — no messy makeouts, but she certainly never let anyone finger her in the hallway of a bar.
The entire thing was completely unlike her. Maybe that's what scared her the most.
Deep down, she wanted to reply to him, but she didn't even know what to say. She didn't want him to leave her alone — maybe that was selfish, but she liked knowing he was at least a little okay. She'd even been keeping secret tabs on the hockey team. They had won their past two games, but Harry had been thrown out in the most recent one for unsportsmanlike conduct. Apparently, he'd gotten into a fight with one of the players on the other team.
Admittedly, that worried her, but she didn't want to be his babysitter. On top of that, the spring showcase was this weekend, and she'd thrown every last bit of her energy into rehearsing and practicing to make sure her performance would be absolutely flawless.
She didn't have the time — or mental capacity — to worry about Harry right now.
. . .
"You look like an idiot."
Harry rolls his eyes as he adjusts the collar on his button down for the third time. James and his girlfriend Melanie had helped him with ironing it out so it looked presentable enough on his body. Anything he ever did rarely called for slacks and button up shirts, but Melanie advised him to look polished and put-together for tonight.
He wasn't in a place to reject her advice.
The other teammates that James lived with weren't quite as kind. Stephen, a sophomore defenseman who was only on the team for the perks of sleeping with every girl he could get his hands on, wouldn't stop throwing sarcastic comments Harry's way.
"Shut up, Stephen!" Melanie calls from the living room. She marches into James' bedroom as Harry smoothes out a few leftover wrinkles in his slacks, swallowing tightly. "When's the last time you cared about something besides fucking random girls? At least Harry has some direction in his life."
"I'm just saying, the girl's been ignoring him for weeks. She's gonna laugh in his face."
"Leave!" Melanie exclaims, batting him on the shoulder. Stephen lets out a yelp of pain and Harry smirks, despite the anxiety throbbing in his chest. "You're not helping! Get out!"
Reluctantly, Stephen rolls his eyes as he follows Melanie's orders and leaves the room. She sighs and comes up from behind Harry before flashing him a hopeful grin.
"You look great, H. I think this is a really sweet gesture."
He nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns to face her. "Okay, but what if Stephen's dumbass is right? She could call security on me and have me removed."
Melanie gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, it's a possibility. But isn't it better to go down fighting?"
He shrugs.
"You said ballet is her everything. It's her entire life. Show her that you're willing to integrate yourself into that."
"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "Yeah, you're right."
"I know I am." she grins. "Okay, let's get you over there. Don't forget the flowers you picked up!"
. . .
30 minutes later, Harry can't stop shifting uncomfortably as he sits in an aisle seat in the campus auditorium at Y/N's spring showcase.
The massive bouquet of flowers in his lap keep making his nose run and he feels like he's being suffocated by the buttons on his shirt that go all the way up to his neck. Best of all, according to the show program, Y/N isn't scheduled to go on until the very end. She mentioned to him once that being placed as the finale act is the best and biggest compliment, and he can't fight the bit of pride that thrums in his heart.
For an hour, he sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he waits for Y/N to go on. He sits through mediocre singing showcases and even a violin solo that almost puts him to sleep, if not for the older man clearing his throat next to him. Melanie and James even text him during the intermission to see how it's going, but he doesn't have much to report back.
Finally, the show comes to a close and her name is announced, following by the title of the French piece of music she's dancing to. His heart throbs in his chest — he's so nervous for her, especially knowing she hurt her ankle just a few weeks back. But the second she graces the stage, she's a vision of beauty, strength, and delicacy all at the same time. It's enough to take Harry's breath away.
As he sits there watching her, he doesn't move a muscle. Not for a single jump, spin, or step. He doesn't know anything about ballet — not aside from what Y/N has told him — but in that moment, he realizes that he'd be willing to learn every little thing there is to know if it meant she let him back into her life.
She's gorgeous. She offers a flawless performance and the second she's finished, a look of relief washes over her face as she takes a subdued bow, her pretty eyes widening when she sees all the people — Harry included — standing and applauding her.
For Y/N, the hard part was over. For Harry, it had just begun.
. . .
Y/N is elated to have a moment of silence after her performance.
With the dressing room door shut behind her, she lets out a long, deep breath. The dance she'd been driving herself crazy over for months was finally over.
And yet, for some reason, she feels empty.
She shoves it down as sits, eager to get her pointe shoes off. She's ready to shed her costume and get into sweatpants and head home. She knows the rest of the performers are heading out to a party tonight, but she's exhausted.
She's sorting through the bag of clothes she brought when there's a soft knock at the door. She knows she only has around 20 minutes to get out before the janitorial staff starts cleaning, so she rises with a sigh, unlocking the door and opening it.
"I'll be done soon, I just need to change—"
It's not the janitor, though.
It's Harry. Standing there stiffly in a starchy button down with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost encompass the width of his broad shoulders.
"What are you doing here?" she blurts without thinking.
"I came to watch you perform," he replies gently. His throat bobs as he hands her the flowers. "These are for you."
"You didn't watch me." she snorts with a shake of her head. She hasn't accepted the bouquet yet.
"Yes, I did," he instantly fires back, "What, do you wanna see my ticket for proof? I was in seat F34, next to an old man who kind of smelled like soup, and he kept clearing his throat and it was really annoying but I didn't care because I came to see you, and I'd sit through hours of bullshit to watch you dance."
Harry can't read the blank expression of her face, but he takes it as a step in the right direction when she takes the flowers from him. She blinks as she glances past him and then steps aside, motioning for him to come in.
"I have to get my shit together and leave soon, so... just sit in here."
He nods. He's hesitant to allow himself to relax since he's not sure if he's in the clear yet. She closes the dressing room door behind her and places the bouquet on her vanity.
"I need to change," she says, spinning around to face him. "Close your eyes."
He chuckles until he sees the serious expression on her face. "Wait, really?"
"Yes, really."
"But... I— y'know—"
"Just turn the fuck around, Harry."
He does as he's told, shutting his eyes as he listens to her roll her tights down and step out of her leotard. One day, if she let him, he'd be more than happy to do that for her — not even in a sexual way, but he knows how tiring it can be to take off his own gear after a long game. He thinks it would be nice to be there for her.
"Okay, you're good," she murmurs. She's stuffing her things in her tote bag when he bats his eyes back open.
"Are you meeting up with anyone after this? I'm sure your friends came to see you, but I just wanted to maybe talk and... y'know, clear the air a bit." Harry says, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Y/N furrows a brow as she analyzes his body language. She doesn't think she's actually seen him look anxious before.
"Um... no," she says with a shake of her head before quickly revising her answer, "No, I mean, I'm not meeting up with anyone and no one came to see me. Except you, I guess."
"Wait, really?"
She sighs as she pauses the process of gathering her things. "Really, Harry."
He swallows tightly. They're silent for a moment as she grabs her jacket and throws it over her shoulders.
"Come over and we'll talk. I borrowed my friend Matt's car for the night but— yeah, you can follow me to my place or whatever. And I can't promise I'll be awake for much longer but I think clearing the air could be... good."
A rush of relief makes its way through Harry's body.
"Okay. Yeah, let's do that."
. . .
"I never said it, but you were flawless tonight."
Y/N laughs breathily as she settles onto her couch, a cup of sleepy time tea in her hand. Harry rejected her offer for one (his response had been, "Y/N, do I look like someone who drinks tea with a sleeping bear on it?") but he'd be lying if he said it didn't at least smell good.
"I fucked up on one of my jetés — I'll get yelled at for it on Monday, but otherwise I'm decently content with the performance."
"Well, you couldn't tell," Harry replies, "Seriously. You were perfect."
Her cheeks warm and she stares down at her tea. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her while Harry sits on the other edge of the couch, giving her plenty of room to stretch out.
"So... clearing the air."
Harry clears his throat and nods, prepared to embark on the speech he'd been practicing in his head for weeks. But then, she speaks.
"I'm sorry for running out on you and ignoring you," she says, keeping her gaze down in her lap. "That wasn't... I'm not the best person. I'm bad at feelings and I use ballet as a crutch. I figure it's the one thing I'm really, exceptionally good at, and that should give me a pass in life but I know that's not true. I can't just go around treating people like shit because I'm... scared."
"What are you scared of?" Harry asks through furrowed brows. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line that night, I should've been better—"
"You didn't. You were great. You did everything perfectly," she replies with a shake of her head. Her response surprises him, but he tries to hide the shock on his face. "I'm scared because you're you. You're a hotshot hockey player and, besides this showcase, you're the only other thing I've thought about these past few weeks. That's horrifying for me."
"Is this...?" Harry attempts to roll his lips into a thin line, preventing a smirk from bursting onto his face. "Is this a very Y/N way of telling me that you like me?"
She groans, as if it's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and it makes Harry laugh.
"Don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. That only makes Harry cackle even louder as he slowly crawls over to her, taking her warm cup of tea out of her hands and placing it on the coffee table.
"You're cute when you're exasperated." he murmurs. She pouts and his eyes crinkle with a grin as he peels her shaky hands away from her face.
"You're the one exasperating me."
"I know," he replies lowly, licking his lips as his face hovers over hers, "I like it."
"This isn't us agreeing to date, by the way." she quickly tacks on. He issues out a mhm as he leans forward, testing the waters, and pressing a light kiss to her nose. "We need to take it slow. Like, painfully slow. Or else I'll freak out and run away again."
"Whatever you want." he mumbles, kissing her right cheek. "I mean it."
"And you can't just overwhelm me whenever you feel like it."
He laughs and kisses her left cheek, then her forehead.
"Okay. Any other demands?"
He stops pasting kisses to her face then, instead choosing to simply loom his lips over hers. He can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and watches as she swallows nervously.
"No," she finally whispers. "Just kiss me."
And so he does.
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 month
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𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 (𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓) 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 "𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄" ─ LH⁴³
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౨ৎ ─ summary | requested ! -> i kind of have a specific request 🫣 im an ohio state fan so it also kinda pains me that i love luke hughes since i hate umich 😭 my request is reader being an osu student and long term devils fan, so when she goes to a devils game in columbus her friends dare her to make a sign for luke during warm ups that says something along the lines of “can i trade you a hat for a puck?” so when luke gives her a puck, she throws him an ohio state hat w her phone number on it. and he finds it really funny and actually ends up messaging her (and then you can end it how you want. fluff, smut, wtv) thank you <33
─ word count | 2.8k
─ warnings | so so so fluffy it might kill you, luke being a cutie pie, meet-cute situation, ohio state (bleh), slight angst, luke being self-conscious and overly self-critical, hurt to comfort, the devils vs rangers game (😭😭😭), nothin' else!
─ taglist | @dancerbailey @maryleclerc @valluvsu @bowen-power @bunting58 @daisysnhl @daisysthings @hearts-4-luke @iminlovewithtz11 @jackhughesily @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvelyzoe @ru-kru
─ ev's notes | luke hughes fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! guess who's outta their writing slump??? this guyyyyy!!!! so yeah, here is a cute little sweet luke fic because my best friend has been into him and this request has been sitting in my inbox, so!! yeah, enjoy, i love you guys mwah mwah mwah
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"HE'S PROBABLY NOT EVEN GONNA SEE THE SIGN," you laughed as your best friend took in the sign you'd made. She nodded in a approval, a knowing smirk on her lips.
"Who cares? It's just for fun. You know, YOLO," she replied, giving you a playful nudge. "Plus, imagine the look on his face if he does see it."
You couldn't help but chuckle nervously, adjusting the sign in your hands. It read, "Can I trade you a hat for a puck, #43?" in bold, black letters against a vibrant red background. You were loved DIY projects so this was just as fun for you as it was for your friends.
"Maybe he'll finally follow you back on Instagram," your best friend added with an amused tone as you rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks get red. She'd known of your long time crush on the youngest Hughes brother, and she was having the time of her life teasing you about it. "Who knows, maybe it'll be a start of a love story."
You laughed nervously at your friend's teasing, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks. "Oh please, it's just a bit of fun," you replied, trying to play off your crush on Luke as nothing more than innocent admiration.
But deep down, the idea of catching Luke's attention in any way made your heart flutter.
Entering the Nationwide Arena, the energy of the crowd enveloped you, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline. As the players hit the ice for warm-ups, you scanned the rink eagerly, trying to catch a glimpse of Luke. With your homemade sign clutched tightly in your hand, you made your way to the glass, positioning yourself so that Luke could see you.
Then, there he was, Luke Hughes, effortlessly weaving between his teammates with grace. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he neared your section of the glass, your breath catching in your throat. You'd only seen him one other time and that was at a Michigan game - however, because it didn't end very well, you decided it was best not to go get a picture with him.
He looked more put together this time, his curls pouring out of his helmet in a way that made your heart jump. You could feel your best friend's amused gaze on the side of your face, you rolled your eyes as she let out a teasing laugh.
"Oh, shut up."
"Hold up your sign higher, Y/N." She urged, nudging you playfully. You did as she said, holding the sign as high as you could.
To your surprise, Luke's gaze flickered towards you, a smirk playing on his lips as he skated closer. He pointed at your sign, giving you a nod of approval before flipping a puck over the glass in your direction.
"Oh my fucking god," your friend mumbled as she caught the puck. You couldn't believe it. Your heart was pounding with excitement as your friend caught the puck that Luke had sent flying your way.
With trembling hands, you fumbled in your bag for the Ohio State hat you had brought along, your heart pounding in your chest.
"You're actually gonna give him the hat?" Your friend laughed as she glanced back at Luke, an amused expression on his face as he waited for you to throw him the hat.
As you lifted up the hat from your bag, Luke let out an amused chuckle as he caught sight of it, his eyes widening with surprise. With a nervous laugh, you nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.
"Yeah, why not?" you replied, trying to sound casual despite the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You glanced in between Luke and your friend, feeling a surge of confidence as you smiled.
Quickly scribbling your phone number on a scrap of paper, you tucked it inside the hat before tossing it over the glass towards Luke. Gripping on the red hat, you tossed it over the glass towards him. He caught it with ease, giving you an impressed smirk.
You mimicked holding a phone to your ear, gesturing towards Luke with a playful smile before mouthing the words 'call me' as your best friend erupted in laughter, her face turning red. Luke couldn't help but join in on the laughter as he shook his head, skating off with the hat in his hands.
──
"I still can't believe you did that," your best friend giggled as she drove home. To no one surprise, the devils had won and you were over the moon.
You couldn't help but giggle along with her, the adrenaline from the encounter still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe it either," you admitted, your smile widening as you replayed the moment in your mind.
As you finally arrived back at your dorm, you couldn't wipe the grin from your face, the memory of Luke's amused reaction playing on a loop in your mind. You got ready for bed and snuggled into the bed but no matter how hard you tried to sleep, you just couldn't.
So, you pulled out your phone and went on TikTok, scrolling endlessly. You knew you'd regret it in the morning but sleeping didn't seem too appealing, especially after the night you'd had.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed and you glanced up to read the message. Your heart skipped a beat once you'd glanced at it. It was an unknown number, with an unfamiliar area code.
You clicked on the number and searched the area code and it was Michigan. You didn't know anyone from Michigan, so who the hell could it─
Oh.
It suddenly clicked, your eyes widening in disbelief. As you stared at the screen, a rush of excitement flooded through you. Could it be? Your mind raced with possibilities as you hesitated for a moment before tapping on the message.
unknown so you're still an ohio fan after we beat ur ass ?
you who's this?
unknown how many hats did you give away tonight? 🥲
you luke???? hughes????
unknown good so im the only one, i hope 🥰
You let out scoff, in utter disbelief. Before responding furthur, you screenshotted the conversation and sent it to your best friend. There was no fucking way that Luke Hughes had messaged you.
──
A few weeks passed and you'd been talking to Luke almost everyday. And that wasn't an exaggeration, after every conversation that died, Luke began another one. You'd even gone as far as FaceTiming him, it seemed surreal for the first couple weeks but it had since become normal.
"How was your test?" Luke spoke, his voice muffled as he chewed on his protein bar. You put your phone down on the desk as you shrugged, sighing. "Wow, that bad?"
You chuckled softly, the sound carrying through the phone as you leaned back in your chair. "Yeah, pretty much," you admitted, running a hand through your hair. "But hey, at least it's over now. I can finally breathe a sigh of relief."
Luke's laughter echoed through the speaker, and you couldn't help but smile at the sound. Despite the miles between you, his presence felt comforting and familiar, a constant in your otherwise chaotic life.
"Who needs Calc? I mean, it's useless." Luke added as he took another bite of his protein bar. Before you could respond, someone in Luke's background began talking. "Yeah, yeah. I'll clean it after I get off the phone."
Your lips curved into an amused smile as you heard the voice retort, watching Luke's expression became annoyed. "I'm on the phone, Jack. Give me two seconds-"
The next thing you see is Luke's screen being shaking and a few voices arguing before Jack took his phone, coming on to the screen."Y/N, tell Luke to wash his dirty ass dishes."
"Luke, listen to your big brother." You respond teasingly, causing Jack to smirk at his younger brother.
Luke rolled his eyes but you could see a hint of amusement dancing in them. "Come on, Y/N, you're supposed to be on my side," he joked, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.
You chuckled at the playful banter between the brothers, feeling a sense of amusement. "Sorry, Luke, but I have to agree with Jack on this one. Clean those dishes, it's disgusting."
Jack grinned, giving you a thumbs-up before disappearing off-screen. Luke let out an exaggerated sigh, but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Fine, fine," he relented, rolling his eyes theatrically. "But only because you said so, Y/N."
"Good."
"See! You only listen to Y/N!" Jack shouted as Luke's face flushed, glaring at his brother off-screen before he disappeared into the home.
"Looks like I have some influence around here," you teased, flashing Luke a playful grin.
Luke shook his head, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "I swear, he's impossible sometimes," he muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice that betrayed his annoyance.
"It's okay. That's just how all siblings are," you cleaned on to the desk as you watched Luke through the screen.
There was a short silence as Luke gazed back at you through the screen, his lips curving into a smile. "Hey, so uh... we have a game later this week."
"Yeah, I know. Against the Rangers."
Luke ran his hands through his curls, his expression a little anxious before he continued. "And don't you have spring break?"
You put two and two together, a small smile playing on your lips as you nodded.
"Well, uh... I was thinking, maybe you could come to the game?" Luke's words came out in a rush, his cheeks flushing slightly as he awaited your response. "So we can finally hang out in person."
Your heart skipped a beat at his invitation, the idea of finally hanging out with Luke in person sending a thrill through you. "I'd love to," you replied eagerly, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.
Luke's smile widened at your enthusiastic response, relief evident in his eyes. "Great! I'll make sure you have the best seats in the house."
"Good, I wanna be watching when you beat the Ranger's asses." You joked as he smiled.
"Oh and, you have one of my jerseys. Right?"
You let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes. "Yeah, of course I do,"
Luke chuckled, a hint of pride evident in his expression. "Good, because I was thinking you could wear it to the game. Show some support for your favorite player," he teased.
"Who said you were my favorite player-"
"Hey, I was the one you gave your number to." Luke teased as you rolled your eyes.
"Okay fine," you admitted with a smirk.
Luke flashed you a satisfied smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "So, you'll wear the jersey then?"
You nodded, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. "Yeah, I'll wear it. But only because you asked so nicely."
Luke's grin widened, a sense of satisfaction evident in his gaze. "Okay, great. Maybe I'll even sign it for you?"
"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes as Luke let out a very amused laugh. "Show-off."
──
Luke didn't have a lot of time before the game so he only waved at you during warmups, but you weren't mad about it. With a smile on your face, you waved back at Luke, sending him a silent message of support and encouragement.
You understood the importance of the game and knew that Luke needed to be on his A-game tonight. However, Luke did keep his promise of giving you the best seats in the house ─ you felt as though you were really on the ice, with the players.
You stood in the stands, watching as Luke and the rest of the team warmed up on the ice. As the puck dropped and the game began, you cheered loudly, your heart filled with pride for your favorite player.
The Rangers came out strong, controlling the puck and applying pressure on the Devils' defense early on. Despite their best efforts, the Devils struggled to gain momentum, facing relentless attacks from their opponents.
In the end, it was a hard-fought battle, but the Rangers had won. You weren't disappointed, no. But you knew how hard everyone could be on Luke, despite him being a rookie. You were a little conflicted, maybe this wasn't the best game you could've came to.
Luke made his way towards the tunnel, his expression disappointed. You knew this one of the biggest games of the season and knowing Luke, he probably thought it was all his fault.
You knew how much he poured into every game, and it pained you to see him shouldering the weight of the loss. Despite your conflicted feelings about the outcome of the game, your support for Luke never wavered.
You made your way out of the arena, waiting outside the player's exit area. You glanced around, scanning the area for any sign of Luke or the rest of the team. As the minutes passed, you shifted from foot to foot, nerves knotting in your stomach as you waited.
Finally, the door to the player's exit swung open, and you held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. And then, there he was—Luke emerged from the doorway, his expression still clouded with disappointment from the game.
You stepped forward, a sympathetic smile tugging at your lips as you approached him. "Hey, Luke," you called out, your voice soft.
Luke's gaze met yours as he bit the inside of his cheek. "Hey."
You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him and you couldn't help but frown. You looked up at the taller brunette as he sighed.
"I'm sorry that I, uh wasted your time. I should have invited you to a better game." Luke apologized, his voice tinged with self-doubt.
You shook your head, a sympathetic smile touching your lips as you gazed up at him. "Luke, you didn't waste my time," you reassured him, your tone gentle yet firm. "Being here with you, win or lose, means more to me than you'll ever know."
"Yeah but we got our asses handed to us out there. And you had to see that." He shrugged as he sniffled, his gaze averting yours.
You could sense the weight of Luke's disappointment as he spoke, his words heavy with frustration and self-doubt. Gently, you reached out to hold his hand. His touch was tense before he relaxed into your touch.
"Luke, it doesn't matter what the scoreboard says," you said earnestly, your voice soft yet unwavering. "What matters is that you gave it your all out there, and that's something to be proud of."
Luke's eyes stilled, a flicker of vulnerability shining in his expression. "But we lost,"
You squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering him a small, understanding smile. "Win or lose, you're still out there doing what you," you reminded him. "And that's worth more than any score."
He sighed before he finally met your gaze. His expression softened for a moment, as he admired you. He let out a sigh before he pulled you in, embracing you tightly.
You both pulled away, Luke's lips slowly curving into a smile as he gazed at you. He let out a small chuckle before he shook his head. "God, this is depressing. What kind of date is this?"
"A date?" You repeated, chuckling. "Is this your idea of a date?"
Luke's cheeks flushed slightly as he realized what he had said, his embarrassment evident in the way he averted his gaze momentarily. "Uh, I mean..." he stammered, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess I just meant... hanging out with you, you know?"
You couldn't help but smile at his awkwardness, finding his genuine charm endearing. "Well, in that case, it's the best date I've ever been on," you exaggerated with a playful wink.
Luke's smile widened at your response, the warmth in his eyes mirroring the affection you felt for him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you confirmed, reaching out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.
"Shut up. This is probably the worst one," he chuckled as he shook his head. "Watching as your date's ass get beat isn't exactly... the best."
You couldn't help but laugh at Luke's self-deprecating humor, easing the tension of the moment. "No, I've definitely had worse dates."
"How about I make it up to you?" Luke smiled as he pulled you in closer. You felt your face flush as you laughed.
"Are you asking me on a second date, Luke?" You teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you looked up at him.
Luke's smile widened, his expression earnest as he met your gaze. "I guess I am," he replied, his voice soft. "I owe you one, after all."
"Well, in that case, I'll gladly accept," you said with a grin, leaning into his embrace.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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ghouljams · 3 months
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Hockey au my light my love. The most chaotic boys. The Goon squad. The bane of coach Price's existence.
"Just talk to 'er mate," Soap nudges Ghost's shoulder. Poor guy has been staring you down all night, glaring like you walked in with his brother.
"What am I s'pposed ta say," Ghost grumbles over the lip of his beer. His eyes hardly budge from staring, watching you like a hawk as you laugh with your friends.
"Oh use a pickup line," Gaz chimes in, leaning around Soap at the bar.
"Good on ya Gaz," Soap pats the man on his shoulder in agreement before turning back to Ghost, "pickup line breaks the ice, get 'er to laugh and youre in."
"You're not suppose to break the ice," Ghost turns to look at his teammates. Soap groans, Gaz snorts, taking a sip of his drink.
"Go up to her and say something hockey like," Gaz chews his lip, thinking, "you should get two minutes for tripping, because I just fell for you."
"That's a good one," Soap says, almost surprised, smacking his hand against Gaz's chest.
"I know," Gaz boasts, sipping his beer.
"Got a better one though," Soap grins.
"Let's hear it," Gaz tips his head, yielding the proverbial floor.
"You want my sweater? 'Cause I think you need my name and number."
"Pretty good," Gaz nods, "how about this one-"
Ghost stands from his seat as Soap and Gaz go back and forth. Pickup line, he can do that, that's easy. He's good looking, he can talk to pretty people in bars. He stops next to your table and watches you turn to look up at him, your smile good natured and your brow raised in question. He stares at you a moment longer, God you're pretty. Prettier up close, he can't take his eyes off the sparkle in your eyes or the crooked tilt of your lips. You're waiting on him to say something, you deserve something good for putting up with his staring.
"Hi," he starts and your smile grows a little wider and everything flies out of his head, "I'm Simon, I'm a goalie."
"You play for the 141 right?" You ask, grabbing your drink to take a sip. It's something dark on ice, it tips in the glass like bourbon. Ghost nods. "You've got a .9 save percentage."
".921," Ghost corrects, "and six shut outs."
You set your drink back on the table and grab your jacket, Ghost doesn't move when you stand, even if it means you nearly bump into him. He wouldn't be mad if you did. He's hoping for it actually.
"You should take me home," you tell him, and Ghost wastes no time settling a big hand on the small of your back to lead you out into the cool night air.
He only realizes the mistake he made in the morning when you shake him awake the next morning and tell him, "We have practice at six, get your ass up."
Ghost groans and cracks his eyes open to stare at you, half asleep. "We?" He asks, not sure what you have to do with him or his practice schedule.
"New team manager nice to meet you," you pat his cheek and roll out of bed, "get your ass up Riley, we got a long day ahead of us."
Ghost sits up, watches you fish around on the floor for your underwear and tries to make the cogs in his head turn the right way. He's gotta stop getting into fights, he thought you said team manager. That- he'd know if you were his manager. He knows the team manager.
You toss a tee at him with a 'what are you doing?' look, "hell are you sitting around for ya fuckin' muppet? You got practice."
Ghost grabs the tee and tugs it over his head with a grumbled swear. You better stop yelling at him or he's gonna fall in love with you.
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wintfleur · 2 months
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omg stella telling her brothers she’s starting an only fans as a prank!! they would kill her
౨ৎ it’s just a prank!
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﹕─┈ pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )
°. — details ( g; fluff, humor. w; Stella being a little goofy and her brothers are being protective. wc; 2.6k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg nonnie you are a genius, I had so much fun writing this !!! So sorry it took so long for me to get out. I hope you guys enjoy it !!! )
°. — ( in no way am I meaning to offend anyone who does do only fans or anything like that, by writing Stella’s brothers not being supportive of her doing only fans. I hope that makes sense )
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )
au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!
Stella was laying in her bed ⸺ well technically the guest bed in the guest room in her brother's jack and Luke's apartment. She was having her annual visit, and it was the time of day where her brothers were both napping, and she wasn't in the mood to go out by herself. She was honestly feeling quite bored not having her brothers around to annoy, that's why she was aimlessly scrolling through TikTok. But her boredom was quickly healed when she watched the latest TikTok lily sent her, a mischievous smile forming on her lips as her mind already formed a plan. 
Stella swiftly slipped out of bed and grabbed her hoodie and put it over her tank top before leaving the room. She heard the faint sound of her brother's voice coming from the kitchen, she could tell that they just woke up from their tone. Both of her brother's heads turned to her as she walked into the kitchen, Luke giving her a tired smile as Jack just groaned and rested his head on the cold island counter they were sitting at. “Can you grab us the milk?” Jack groaned tiredly and Stella rolled her eyes but got the milk for them, nonetheless, setting the carton next to the box of cereal the two were about to destroy. 
Stella pulled out a box of fruit snacks and set them on the counter, only using that as a distraction so she could prop up her phone to film them without them seeing it. She started the video and gave the camera a wink before she turned around and faced her brothers who were shoveling cereal into their mouths. Stella leaned back against the counter and asked, “Can one of you drive me too best buy?” 
 “Sure! What do you need at best buy?” Luke was quick to agree, wanting to spend more time with his little sister, Jack looked at Stella curious on what she needed at best buy, he was about to open his mouth to offer to give her his card, but she was already talking. “Oh! I need to get a ring light, i left mine at home.” 
“Why do you need a ring light?” Jack askes with a confused frown. Stella had to stop her lips from curling up into a smile at the genuine confusion, oh her poor brothers have no idea what they're getting into. Stella gave her brothers a smile and tries her best to sound as calm as she could as she speaks “Oh i need one to film my new only fans video and i left mine at home.”  
Stella bit her lip and turned to face the counter, pretending to do things, knowing that she would not be able to face her brothers without bursting out into laughter. The camera perfectly got both of her brothers' reactions. Luke choked on his cereal in shock and started coughing. Jack dropped his spoon in his bowl as his body went still in shock as he looked at the back of his little sister's head. 
“What did you just say?” Jack asked his sister, hoping that he and Luke heard wrong. There was no way she was serious ⸺ she couldn't be. Stella let out a quiet breath and tried to collect herself before turning around to face her brothers. She turned back around to face her brothers, holding everything in so she wouldn't laugh, she gives them a smile pretending to be unbothered “I need to get a ring light so i can film my on⸺” 
“We heard you!” Luke quickly cut Stella off after catching his breath from his fit of coughs, he shook his head in disgust he did not want to hear his sister repeat it. Jack looks at his sister in fear and shakes his head no, repeatedly muttering no under his breath. Poor boy was stressed. “Stella, you can't be serious! You can't have only fans” Jack nearly shouted as he placed both of his hands on the island counter. 
“And you sure as hell can't film your . . . your videos in our guest bedroom” Luke scoffs his face twisted in disgust, he did not need to know this about his sister, and he did not need to think of what she could be doing in their guest bedroom. “Gross” Jack whined in disgust at his younger brother's words. 
“Why not I really need the money” Stella did her best to frown, giving her brothers her puppy eyes that she knew always worked in her favor, but this time it was different, they were not going to fall for it. Jack's eyes nearly pop out of his sockets at his sister's revelation, she was doing this because she needed money? He quickly reached into his pocket for his wallet while Luke questioned her in shock “Money? Your doing this for money?” 
“Obviously” stella giggled with a shrug of her shoulder, gently biting her lip to hold in her laughter when she sees Luke hold his head in his hands and jack hold out his wallet for her “Here take my wallet, buy whatever you want as long as you delete your account.” 
“Awee you're going to buy my ring light for me?” Stella playfully cooed as she reached for the wallet, very much enjoying messing with her brothers. Luke's eyes widen and he quickly snatches Jack's wallet before she could grab it, over his dead body. Luke scoffs at the audacity “Neither of us are going to sponsor your bad decisions.” 
“Oh, trust me i don't need any more sponsors” stella stated as she tried her best to sound innocent and oblivious. Luke's mouth dropped in shock and Stella was sure she was going to see steam coming out of Jack's ears any second now. Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket with a mission “Thats it I'm calling Quinn, he can talk some sense into your delusional ass self.” 
Stella’s eyes widen and she quickly grabs jacks' phone out of his hands before he could get the chance to call their eldest brother, she also wanted to pull this prank on Quinn when she comes to visit, and she wasn't going to have them ruin that even though she wasn't really looking forward to it. Stella quickly shouted when she noticed the two heated stares from her brothers “Wait! Wait! It's just a prank!” 
Neither of her brothers believed her until she broke out into a fit of giggles and turned around to grab her phone, lifting it up and showing them that they were being filmed. A loud laugh leaves her lips at the sight of her brother's reaction to her phone. Both of their shoulders sag in relief and Jack drops his head onto the island counter and lets out a loud groan of annoyance, while Luke just crosses his arms and glares at his sister. Yes, he was relieved that it was all fake, but his heart was almost beating out of his chest from the stress she just put him through. 
Stella gives the camera a small smile before stopping it, she slides it into her pocket and clears her throat and gives both of her brothers an awkward smile. She could tell that they both were a little upset from the prank. Stella tries her best to sound enthusiastic as she asks her two now grumpy brothers “Who wants to help me plan out the same prank for quinny!” 
Now that got a smile on both of their lips . . . 
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Now Stella was way more nervous to pull the prank on quinn than she was with Jack and Luke. Quinn was different. She knew it was just a prank, but she was still scared to see Quinn’s reaction. She was honestly going to blow the whole prank off, but she was starting to get annoyed by the many texts from an impatient Jack asking her if she's done it yet. Not only was she nervous to do it, but there was also just not a good time for her to do it yet. 
She has been busy almost every day, going out with her brother almost every day, Elias and Brock joining them. She was having a great time, so she really didn't want to ruin it by pranking her older brother by making him believe she was starting an only fans account. But she said she would, and Stella doesn't go back on her word. Ever.  
Stella quickly glanced at her brother who was focusing on the video game he was playing on the living room tv. They were spending the day inside, neither of them wanting to go out during the hot day. Stella discretely sets up her phone against a pillow next to her, her phone getting a good view of both of the siblings who're sitting next to each other. 
Stella lets out a nervous sigh before quickly starting the video and leans back on the couch, letting her phone get a great view of both of their side profiles. Quinn was leaning forward with his arms on his knees and a controller in his hand. Stella sat Criss cross on the couch and tilted her head to look at quinn as she spoke “Quinn i have to tell you something.” 
“Hmm yeah, what is it?” Quinn quickly glanced back and forth from his sister and the tv a few times before settling his gaze back on the tv. Stella nervously bit her lip for a second, quickly glancing at the camera before looking back at her brother. She spoke calmly “I think I'm going to start an only fans.” 
Quinn physically recoiled in shock at his sister's words, and the both of them were surprised that his neck didn't snap with how fast it turned to her. The controller dropped out of his hand and hit the rug covered floor. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not believing the words coming out of his sister's mouth “Excuse me?” 
“I’m thinking of  ⸺ “ 
“Why the fuck are you thinking about that?” Quinn asked in a sharp tone as he fully twisted his body to face her. Stella felt her lips twitch up at how high his tone got; it always did when he was upset. Stella pursed her lips before she could smile and ruin the prank, she continued to speak calmly “A lot of people have asked me  ⸺ “ 
“Who the fuck is asking you that?” Quinn questioned stella, his tone angry as he thought of people trying to convince his little sister to start an account, fucking perves his hissed in his mind. No! Quinn was not going to let this happen. She must not be thinking straight, he continued to think. 
“You’d be surprised, apparently I'd make a lot of money!” Stella pretends to be excited at the thought, even giving Quinn a smile. Oh, he's so going to kill me, Stella thought to herself as she watched her brother's concerned expression turn into anger. Quinn shook his head in disbelief, bringing his hand up to rub at his temples as he closed his eyes, a sigh of stress leaving his lips before he opened his eyes and looked back at his sister. 
“Estella, you are 19 years old! You should still be playing with your barbies or somethin!” 
“The minimum age is eighteen . . . I’ve been researching it” Stella hummed as she nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling at the dramatic exhale he let out.
“Oh, is that right” quinn muttered sarcastically under his breath, he didn't know how to approach the situation. He definitely did not agree with the idea of Stella doing that, but he also didn't want her to feel like he was judging her or was disappointed in her . . . but he knew it was a little late for that from his reaction. Quinn let out another sigh before speaking much more calmly “Stella . . . is this really something you want to do?” 
“I think so” she mumbled, starting to feel bad from how stressed he looked. 
“Well, I um . . . all I ask is that you really think about it okay?” Quinn spoke softly as he reached for Stella's hand, softly squeezing it. Yes, he wanted to forbid her from doing it, but he also didn't want to take her choice away from her, she had to make the choice herself, and he didn't want her to feel embarrassed to talk about things with him. He continued to speak as he locked eyes with Stella “This is a big decision, you know. Once things go on the internet, they never come off. Just really think if this is what you want to do.” 
Stella internally awes at Quinn's words, his initial reaction showed that he did not agree and was not happy with her words, but he calmed down and gave her a mature and sweet response. Quinn lets out a surprised “Oh!” when he feels Stella lunges towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulder for a hug. Quinn is confused for a second, but he quickly returns the hug. Stella squeezes her eyes shut and speaks loud enough for her phone to pick it up “It's just a prank.” 
“What!?” Quinn exclaims as she pulls back from the hug, a giggle leaving Stella's lips at the confused look Quinn gives her. “It's just a prank quinny” Stella gets out between her loud laughter, her head tilting back against the couch. Quinn let out a heavy sigh, his body still tense even with the confession of it being a prank, he had to make sure “So you're not going to make an only fans?” 
“No, I'm not, don't worry!” Stella continues to giggle, her laughter only getting louder when Quinn lets himself lean back on the couch, his hand resting over his fast-beating heart. Quinn shuts his eyes and lets himself calm down, his body relaxing. “Oh, thank god!” 
“Why would you do that stella! Are you trying to kill me?” Quinn quickly shouts as he sits back up, many questions running through his mind. Who gave her the idea to do this? Why would she do this? And do you think I can guilt trip her into cooking dinner? 
“It was Jack's idea!” Stella was quick to throw her brother under the bus, quickly reaching to grab her phone to pause the video before it got too long. Quinn's eyes widen, and a look of betrayal comes across his face at the fact that she videotaped the whole thing. The last thing the camera gets is a shocked Quinn looking over a giggling Stella's shoulder. 
Stella tilts her head to look at her brother who got really quiet, her eyes widening at the glare he was giving her. She noticed a familiar look of mischief in his eyes, and she quickly got up from the couch and rushed down the hallway to hide in the guestroom, just as she closed the door, she heard the sound of his loud footsteps and the sound of him shouting. 
“Estella!” 
stellahughes has just posted a TikTok!
[caption: do you guys think jacks gonna be mad i blamed him? ]
username1 is Luke okay? I thought he was going to pass out from how hard he was coughing
username2 I- the way she blamed Jack. I can’t 😭
username3 they were stressing omg!
username4 the protective glare Quinn gave Stella when she said people were asking for it 🤭
username5 stella sweetie, are you okay?
Stellahughes no, I’m hiding from Quinn in the closet 🫤
Qhughes Hmm good to know
username5 did I just get Stella Hughes killed 😳
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°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lxvelyzoe @lovings4turn x )
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bibyvariable · 9 months
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hi guys i'm not dead i just haven't been drawing a lot of fhr (or anything really). Found time to do some color experiments with Amal & Christina, fhr brainrot is returning..
I promise cool things are coming 💥💥
If u want to see fhr-unrelated things i've been doodling, take a peek under the cut 💖💗💘
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mxqlss · 2 months
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hes so pretty i wanna curl up into a ball and cry cause of how cute and majestic this man is.
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d4rkcamelot · 1 month
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some fellas
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tea-and-finalfantasy · 9 months
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yeah i know it's august but here are some hockey valentines (the non serious ones at least). still don't know if the first one should be like "i want your d, man" instead but hey i have until february to figure that out lol
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moodriingz · 11 days
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The Prophecy | J. Hughes
Summary | You’ve given up on love until love hits you in the face (with a door) 
Warnings | Unedited, one curse word, (really bad) angst
Author's Note | I finally finished all of my finals! So that means more regular stories so send in requests! This is also part of my 100 follower celebration!
Masterlist | 100 follower celebration
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You never expected to feel so lost in a city you lived in for most of your adult life. You and your college boyfriend broke up after five years of dating. You met early in your freshman year and were stuck together like glue. He made you feel like you caught lightning in a bottle, so much so you were willing to do anything for him. So many of your friends thought you were going to get married and he had been hinting at it since you graduated a year ago.
You were blindsided when he said that he didn’t think you two should be together anymore and basically kicked you out of your shared apartment. Luckily Hannah, your best friend, offered to stay in her apartment until you could find one. 
All you could think was that it was your fault. Why else would he end it so suddenly? He gave you little to no explanation. Even though you were still so young you felt like you would never find a love like his. It was like someone was betting against you. All you ever wanted was someone who wanted your company.
After a couple of weeks you were able to find a new apartment in a different part of town and you never felt so excited or rejuvenated. Hannah was trying to convince you to start dating again, but you told her it was too soon. You were scared someone was betting against your love life and you didn’t want to risk it yet. 
Little did you know when you went to check out a new pizza place you would run into the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t a normal meeting though he almost gave you a concussion by hitting you with the door.
“I’m so sorry, are you ok? How many fingers am I holding up?” The stranger asks as he stares into your eyes looking for any signs of injury. Before you respond you notice his really tall friend recovering the pizza off the ground.
“I’m fine thank- why are you moving your finger in front of my eyes?” You ask confused about what he is doing.
“I’m trying to make sure you don’t have a concussion. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell,” he said, still doing some concussion protocol? You’re not too certain what is happening honestly.
“I think I’m ok I really appreciate it though,” you say finally getting the opportunity to stand up as he backs up. You go to move inside before he stops you.
“Wait what’s your name?”
“Y/n,” You tell him before turning around to enter the shop and order your much deserved pizza.
Later you meet up with Hannah to debrief about both of your weeks. You almost forgot to tell her about the mystery pizza man until she mentions dating to you again.
“Hannah, I'm not going on a date right now. But there was this really cute guy who almost gave me a concussion the other night when I went to get pizza,” You say nonchalantly.
“What? Y/n why didn’t you tell me? What’s his name? Are you going out with him?” She babbles as you roll your eyes.
“No to all of those questions. I felt like such a fool because of my ex and I’m not doing that again.” You say with a shrug. Living alone has really forced you to think about your relationship and you realized that the end of your relationship was most likely your fault, and you definitely do not want to get into another relationship until you figure out how to stop it from happening again.
After dinner you and Hannah decide to hit a club that was only semi full until the hockey crowd filtered in after the game. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits though so the Devils must have won.
Little did you know is that your pizza mystery man was currently walking in the club with some of his teammates to celebrate. Hannah was a pretty big fan and spotted some of them almost instantly.
“Oh my gosh the Devils are here we should go say hey. Maybe you can find a date,” She wasn’t going to take no for an answer so you just let her pull you by the wrist.
Hannah finally stops when she’s face to face with Nico, who you only recognize because of all of his ads around town. Before you can introduce yourself someone calls out your name.
“Y/n,” Your mystery man. He says it shocked like he didn’t expect to see you again.
“You know Jack Hughes?” Hannah whispers into your ear. You just ignore her because maybe it's fate? Maybe it’s a cruel joke?
You don’t even know what to say, you’re so shocked by the turn of events. You never would’ve thought you’d meet him again. You thought your near concussion experience would be the last you see of him.
“I’m Jack by the way,” He says and you’re drawn in by his voice and his eyes that haven’t left yours.
“I think you owe me a drink for almost killing me,” You say, shocking yourself.
“In my defense I didn’t try to give you a concussion, my brother was distracting me,” He says leading you to the bar. You order your regular drink and he does the same before asking you if you’d want to talk for a bit.  
The two of you talked for what seemed like minutes until Hannah came to find you to let you know that she’s leaving. You check the time and realize you should probably leave as well. 
“I had an amazing night thanks for keeping me company,” You say getting up to leave.
“Wait let me give you my number,” Jack says standing up and you nod, handing him your phone.
You walk Hannah home because you’re much more sober than she is and all she can talk about is that you know Jack Hughes.
“You should go out with him, he's so cute and sweet.”
“Hannah I’m not dating right now and you know that,” You say, leading her to her door.
“Yeah I know but you just deserve to be happy, and I really think he would be perfect for you,” She said, drawing out her syllables. You say goodnight and make your way home which luckily isn’t too far from her apartment.
The next day you decide to listen to Hannah and reach out to Jack. You try texting him telling him that you had a great time talking to him last night, but the message never gets delivered. All you can do is feel idiotic. It wasn’t fate to run into him twice (physically or not). You feel so childish thinking maybe this was your chance. 
You blame Hannah for getting your hopes up to think that maybe something could happen. You were starting to think that maybe it was some cruel joke fate was playing on you. You were almost compelled to pray to change your prophecy, but then you just started feeling even more insane. But, there must be a way to change it, right?
Later in the week you decide to work out of a cafe nearby and feel like the universe is playing some sick joke on you. As you look up your eyes meet with a pair of blue eyes staring you down. You smile shyly at the hockey player not knowing how to respond to someone who never responded to your text. Jack took that as an invitation to join you.
“You never called,” He says as he sits down.
“I texted but you never responded,” You say nervous you’d get turned down in person this time.
“What are you talking about? I was so excited to see you again because I wanted to get your number the first time we met but I thought it would be weird if I asked after almost giving you a head injury. I would’ve noticed if you texted me,” He rambles and you just pull out your phone to show him the message. He clicks around on your phone until his eyes get wide.
“I gave you the wrong number,” Jack says with a blush on his face. You feel that maybe your tables are turning. Instead of fate working against you, maybe they just wanted you two to meet a couple of times.
“Third times a charm right?” You smile at him as he fixes his number in your phone. You two fall into conversation once again before he checks the time.
“I have to go but I can’t leave until you agree to go on a date with me,” Jack says with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. You just nod knowing that someone was finally betting on your love life.
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fr4nkoce4n · 3 months
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𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏! ʲᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵘᵍʰᵉˢ
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in which jack comes home in a bad mood after getting eliminated from the playoffs but his two girls are always there for him.
song- watch you sleep. - girl in red
jack felt off, almost empty as he pulled into the driveway of his home. a frown was displayed on his face, after getting eliminated from the playoffs. his team had played a good game, but not good enough.
he opened his car door grabbing his bags and keys, making his way to the front door and opening it with one swift movement.
he dropped his bags to the ground and looked around, no one to be seen, the tv was turned off and all that could be heard was the song here comes the sun by the beatles.
it was his 4year old daughter, matilda’s favourite song, she would try her best to sing along to it, not able to even get the words correct. it always brought a smile to his face.
he made his way into the kitchen without trying to disrupt anything. he stopped from a distance as he saw his wife with matilda propped up on her right hip, dancing and singing around the kitchen as she was making something.
jack leaned against the frame of the window and just watched, a look of happiness spread across his face.
you had had a big night, from watching the game, to trying to make dinner, to trying to make matilda stop crying. the crying was never ending, and for what reason? she could never figure it out, tilly was now 4 but she was just always crying. and when you couldn’t make it stop you felt like a horrible mother.
at this very moment you had matilda on your hip and you were trying to distract her so she would stop crying. you danced around and even started singing before she stopped crying.
it was rough when jack had to go on a roadie, meaning you had to put in that little bit of extra effort around the house.
you weren’t going to lie, it was a little bit relieving knowing jack wouldn’t have alot of hockey to focus on after losing tonight. you sure felt bad for your husband though.
“need a hand?” jack spoke up and took matilda out of his wife’s hands and pulled her in for a hug, “dada!” matilda cheered and dug her head into her dads neck.
“hey tills!” jack greeted, placing a sweet kiss on his daughters forehead.
“im sorry about the game jack.” you spoke and gave your husband a peck on lips.
“it’s okay, we tried our best.” he sighed, you could tell he was upset about it all.
“i need to finish dinner, could you go give her a bath?” you ask quietly.
“of course.”
jack carried matilda to the bathroom and turned on the bath tub. he grabbed out the basket full of tillys bath toys.
“which ones do you want tonight?” jack asked as he spread them out along the ground.
she picked up her favourite ones and placed them in the bath gently, as if they had feelings.
“good pick.” jack smiled picking up the rest of the toys and putting them away.
once the bath was full jack placed matilda in the bath and she played in there while jack washed her.
as her daddy put shampoo into her hair she looked up at him, she easily noticed that he wasn’t as talkative as he usually was and looked like he was sad.
“daddy?” she questioned.
“yes tilly baby?”
“do you have a boo boo?” she sat up in the bath and jack stopped massaging her scalp with conditioner.
“no honey, why do you ask?”
“your sad, what’s wrong daddy?” she frowned. “is it because you lost?”
“yes baby.” he sighed.
“it’s okay.” she placed her hand on top of his hoping to turn his frown into a smile.
a smile broke out on jack’s face, “thank you. can i ask you a question?”
she nodded gently.
“why do you get so upset all the time darling girl?” he asked curiously.
tilly looked like she was about to start crying again, “i miss you daddy.”
jacks heart swelled but also dropped, he wished that he could be there all the time for his girls.
“im always with you, in here.” he poked her little chest gesturing to her heart. “but baby, you need to stop getting so upset, it’s really hard on mummy, she feels bad when she can’t make you feel better.”
“do I make mummy sad?”
“not sad, she just feels like a bad mummy.” he sighed, knowing tilly most likely didn’t understand him anyway.
“she’s not a bad mummy!” she sort of yelled.
“she’s not. now come on, let’s get you dry and changed and into bed gorgeous.”
jack changed her into her pyjamas and placed her into her big girl bed pulling the blanket over her.
she closed her eyes straight away, but just was jack was about to shut the door she spoke up. “daddy?”
“yes?”
“i wont cry tonight so mummy feels better.”
“come see me if you want me baby.”
he left a gap in the door and made his way into the kitchen, his amazing wife had made his favourite meal, spaghetti bolognaise.
“ugh it looks and smells amazing baby.” he placed a kiss on your forehead and sat down next to you to eat.
you both dug into your food and ate up.
“im sorry you didn’t make it through to the next round.” you spoke quietly.
“it’s okay, I want to be here more for tilly, do you know why she cries so much?” he questioned his wife, she shared a look with him.
“no clue, I can’t get a peep out of her when she’s crying.” you frown.
“she said it’s because she misses me…” he sighed, he felt horrible. “i knew i would be a horrible dad.”
“hey hey hey, no your an amazing dad, tilly loves you, she wouldn’t want any other dad in the world.” you grabbed your husbands hand. “and I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my husband.”
you grab your husbands hand and drag him to tillys room and open the door, she is laid in her bed peacefully, “sometimes when your on a roadie i miss you so much so i come in here and watch her sleep. she looks exactly like you jack, and she calms me.”
jack remembered when tilly was first born, he would stay in her room for ages and watch her sleep because he was so worried something would happen to his girl.
but now, like his wife said, it was calming.
the way her little chest moved up and down as she breathed, the way she would move around every now and then and the way she would cuddle her snoopy teddy which had a devils jersey on it.
“we made her.” jack spoke softly.
“yeah. we did.” she grabbed jacks hand and leaned onto his shoulder.
this moment was the only moment he ever wanted, who cared about making it to the next round when he had his two girls at home?
they were all he ever needed.
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cupid-styles · 4 months
Text
the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)
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in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).
I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))
word count: 1.8k
content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)
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. . .
When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.
What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”
So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.
She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”
Easy enough, right?
But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 
But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 
She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.
“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”
Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”
She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.
Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”
Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.
With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.
. . .
“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”
She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 
“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”
She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 
She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 
Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”
Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”
“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”
He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”
She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 
“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”
“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”
“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”
“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 
It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 
“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 
“Can you shut the door?” 
Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”
“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”
“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”
Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.
“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 
“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”
“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”
Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.
“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”
“That’s awful for you, Harry.”
He shoots her an angry look. 
“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”
“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”
Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.
“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”
Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”
She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”
He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”
She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 
“What?” 
“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 
“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 
“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 
She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 
“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”
Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”
It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”
He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 
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