Get to know me!
My name is katie, I am 20 years old. I’m a nursing major, I love the outdoors, and I travel when I can (37 states, 3 countries so far!) I am a certified lover girl. Absolutely and utterly in love with Luke Hughes!
I LOVE YOUR TEVOR X TKACHUK SISTER ITS SO CHAOTIC CAN I PLS REQUEST SOME SMUT????
Best Work | tz11
Trevor Zegras x Tkachuk!Reader
Summary: After a night out in Anaheim you are more than excited to have a night alone with your boyfriend. Who gives you his best work.
You and Trevor were ubering back to your apartment after a few drinks out with the guys after a big win against the Knights.
As you walked into your apartment hand and hand you couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriends antics as his fingers grazed against your side.
"trev that tickles," you giggled out leading him to your shared bedroom.
Trevor grinned, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint that always got you going. He was still buzzing from the win and the booze, his steps a little wobbly as he followed you down the hall. "Oh yeah? What if I do this?"
He poked your ribs again, making you squeal and twist away, both of you stumbling into the bedroom like a pair of drunk puppies.
You spun around to face him, your hands landing on his chest as you pushed him back toward the bed. The room spun just a bit—those shots at the bar were hitting harder now—and you burst into laughter when he tripped over his own shoe, nearly face-planting onto the mattress. "Smooth, Zegras," you teased, your voice light and slurry.
He caught himself, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with him. You both collapsed in a heap, limbs tangled, his mouth finding your neck in sloppy kisses that made you snort. "Shut up, I'm a pro," he mumbled against your skin.
His hands roamed up your shirt, fingers fumbling with the hem as he tried to yank it off. You helped him, or at least tried to, but your arms got stuck for a second, and you both dissolved into giggles again.
"You're such a mess," you said, finally freeing yourself and tossing the shirt aside. Your bra followed, and Trevor's eyes lit up like he'd just scored the game-winner.
He leaned in to kiss you properly, but missed your lips and planted one on your chin instead. You cackled, tilting your head to guide him back.
His shirt came off next, revealing the lean, toned muscles from all those hours on the ice. You traced your fingers over his abs, feeling him shiver, and he groaned dramatically.
"Y/N, you're killing me here." But then he hiccuped, and that set you both off laughing again, rolling around on the bed until you were breathless.
You straddled his lap, grinding down against the growing bulge in his jeans. He bucked up instinctively, his hands gripping your hips, but his coordination was shot—his thumb slipped and poked you in the side, making you yelp and swat at him. "Hey! Focus, babe."
"I am focused!" Trevor protested, but his grin was pure chaos. He unzipped your skirt with shaky fingers, sliding it down your legs along with your panties. You kicked them off, nearly kneeing him in the process, and he dodged with a playful yelp. "Whoa, easy there, Tkachuk. Save the hits for the rink."
Naked from the waist down, you tugged at his jeans, popping the button and wrestling them off. His boxers tented obviously, and you palmed him through the fabric, earning a low moan that turned into a chuckle when you squeezed too hard by accident. "Ow—gentle, woman! I'm delicate."
"Delicate? Please," you shot back, pulling his boxers down. His cock sprang free, hard and twitching, and you wrapped your hand around it, stroking slowly.
Trevor hissed, his head falling back, but then he reached for you, fingers dipping between your thighs. He found your clit with surprising accuracy for how tipsy he was, rubbing in circles that made your breath hitch.
"Fuck, Trev," you whispered, rocking into his touch. You were already wet, the heat building fast from the teasing all night. He slid a finger inside you, then two, pumping lazily while you jerked him off.
But the angle was off—your elbows knocked together, and you both paused to laugh, foreheads bumping.
"Okay, okay, let's do this," he said, voice husky but cracking with amusement. He flipped you onto your back—or tried to. You ended up sideways, legs dangling off the bed, and he had to scramble to position himself between them.
His cock nudged against your entrance, slick and ready, but as he pushed in, he slipped right past, sliding up against your thigh instead.
You burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the room. "Missed the target, hotshot!"
Trevor groaned, but he was laughing too, his face buried in your shoulder as he tried again. "It's your fault, you're too slippery." This time, he got the head in, stretching you deliciously, and you moaned, wrapping your legs around him. He thrust forward, burying himself deep, and oh god, it felt good—warm and full, even if the rhythm was all over the place.
He started moving, hips snapping unevenly, pulling out and slamming back in with grunts that mixed with your gasps. You clawed at his back, urging him on, but then on one particularly enthusiastic thrust he pulled out too far, and his cock popped free, slapping wetly against your stomach.
Both of you froze for a split second, then cracked up, tears pricking your eyes from the hilarity. "What the—did you just high-five my belly?" you wheezed, clutching at him.
"I swear, it's the whiskey," Trevor panted, wiping his eyes as he lined up again. "Hold still, I'm going for the hat trick."
He slid back in easier this time, the laughter making everything looser, and you rocked together, the bed creaking under your clumsy rhythm. He leaned down, his lips brushing your neck as he thrust steadily, his cock filling you with each push.
"Hey, I'm giving you my best work here," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly before kissing the spot, his breath warm and teasing.
You started giggling immediately, the tickle of his lips and stubble sending shivers through you, your body clenching around his cock in response.
"Trev, that tickles—stop, you're making me laugh!" But the giggles only pulled him deeper, turning the thrusts into something even more playful, your hips bucking up to meet him amid the chuckles.
It wasn't perfect—his elbow dug into your side once, and you elbowed him back, turning it into a playful wrestle mid-thrust. But the giggles only made it hotter, the connection buzzing with that shared, silly joy.
You clenched around him, chasing the edge, and he sped up, breaths coming in ragged bursts.
"Y/N, I'm- fuck," he gasped, and you felt him throb inside you. One more slip—half out again—and you both cackled even as he shoved back in, finally tipping over.
He came with a choked laugh, spilling hot inside you, and the sensation pushed you over too, waves of pleasure crashing through the absurdity.
You collapsed together, sweaty and spent, still snickering as you caught your breath. Trevor nuzzled your neck, pressing soft kisses there. "Best work, right?"
You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. "Always, Trev. Even when it's a total disaster."
He lifted his head, eyes soft despite the drunken haze. "Love you, you know that?"
"Love you too," you murmured, pulling him down for a real kiss—one that didn't miss.
you should do smut where rempe loses a game or gets ejected and he takes it on you hehe (with consent of course)
Ignore me now? | mr73
summary: After Matt has been ignoring you for weeks maybe on purpose maybe not you retaliate and it leads to a fun or should I say rough night.
warnings: Rough sex, P in V, Nipple play, degrading and praise. Mentions of a fight. Oral M receiving, Angry sex.
The air in the apartment hung heavy with unspoken tension as you watched Matt lace up his shoes in the living room. Tonight's game against the Florida Panthers was crucial, and you knew his mind was already on the rink, protecting his teammates with those bone-crushing checks he was famous for.
But you weren't in the mood to be ignored. The past week had been a blur of practices, team meetings, and him coming home exhausted, barely glancing your way before crashing on the couch.
It was petty, sure, but the little things added up. Like how he forgot to text you back about dinner plans, or how he brushed off your suggestion to grab coffee because "the guys needed him for film review."
"Matt, can we talk for a second?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. You stood in the doorway to the bedroom.
He didn't look up, focused on tying the knots. "Babe, I gotta head out soon. Coach is riding us hard."
"That's the problem," you snapped, your voice sharper than intended.
"You always 'gotta head out.' When's the last time we actually did something together that wasn't you zoning out after a game?"
Matt sighed, finally glancing at you. His eyes, usually soft off the ice, narrowed slightly. "Y/N, this is my job. You know that. Playoffs are coming up. I can't just—"
"I know it's your job," you interrupted, heat rising in your cheeks. "But I'm your girlfriend, not some puck bunny waiting on the sidelines. A five-minute conversation wouldn't kill you."
He stood up, towering over you, his gear bag slung over one shoulder. "You're being dramatic. We've got the game tonight you can come watch, we'll talk after."
"Dramatic?" You laughed bitterly. "Fine, go play your game. I'll be there, but don't expect me to cheer like everything's perfect."
Matt's jaw clenched, that tough enforcer side flickering in his expression. "Whatever. See you there." He grabbed his keys and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.
The pettiness burned in your chest as you stared at the empty space. Fine. If he wanted to treat you like an afterthought, you'd make him notice.
You rummaged through your closet, pulling out the jersey you'd bought on a whim last season a Florida Panthers one, Sam Bennett's number 9.
You slipped it on over your top, the fabric loose but bold. Bennett's name across your back felt like armor. Grabbing your ticket, you headed to Madison Square Garden, the buzz of the crowd already electric as you found your seat in the lower bowl, right behind the Rangers' bench.
The game started with the usual intensity sticks clashing, pucks flying. Matt was out there early, dominating the ice. He laid a check on a Panthers forward that echoed through the arena, drawing cheers from the home crowd. You watched, arms crossed, refusing to clap. The jersey caught a few glances from nearby fans, but you didn't care.
Then, midway through the first period, it happened. During a face-off near center ice, Sam Bennett skated by the boards close to where you sat. His eyes sharp and mischievous locked onto you. He grinned, nodding at your jersey, then turned to Matt as the puck dropped.
"Hey Rempe," Bennett called out, loud enough for the refs and nearby players to hear, but you knew Matt caught it. "Nice threads your girl's rocking. Guess she prefers a real winner tonight."
The chirp hit like a slapshot. Matt's head snapped toward the boards, his eyes finding you immediately. The betrayal flashed across his face shock, then raw anger. He froze for a split second, the puck slipping past him as the Panthers gained possession.
You met his gaze, chin lifted defiantly. Yeah, this was payback.
The period dragged on, but the tension simmered. Matt played harder, his checks more vicious, but Bennett kept needling him. Every time they crossed paths, another jab: "She looks good in my colors, eh? Maybe I'll send her a signed one after we win this."
It built like a storm. In the second period, during a scrum along the boards, Matt dropped the gloves first. His massive fists flew, connecting with Bennett's helmet in a thunderous crack. Bennett fought back, but Matt's size advantage was brutal, he pinned the smaller player against the glass, landing heavy punches that had the crowd roaring.
Linesmen rushed in, prying them apart. Matt's chest heaved, blood trickling from a split lip, but his eyes were wild, locked on Bennett. The ref signaled major penalties five minutes for fighting, and ejection for instigating. Matt slammed his stick on the ice in frustration as he was escorted to the locker room, the arena buzzing with the drama.
You sat there, heart pounding. Part of you felt a thrill at the chaos you'd sparked, but another part twisted with regret. The Rangers killed off the penalty, but the momentum shifted, and Florida scored twice before the third period.
The final buzzer sounded with a Panthers win, 4-2. You slipped out early, heading to the players' exit where you'd wait for Matt like always. The cool night air did little to calm your nerves as you leaned against the wall, the Bennett jersey still on.
His truck pulled up sooner than expected, engine rumbling. Matt stepped out, still in his suit from the post-game media—dark slacks hugging his thick thighs, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie loose. But his face was a storm: bruised knuckles, a fresh cut on his cheek from the fight, eyes burning with fury.
He didn't speak as he grabbed your arm not roughly, but firm and pulled you toward the passenger door. "Get in," he growled, voice low and dangerous.
You obeyed, sliding into the seat as he climbed in and peeled out of the lot. The drive home was silent, the city lights blurring past. Your apartment was only ten minutes away, but it felt eternal. Matt's hands gripped the wheel white-knuckled, his massive frame tense.
When you got inside, he slammed the door behind you, tossing his keys on the counter. He turned, towering over you, making you feel small. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?"
You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the heat pooling in your core from the intensity of it all. "You ignored me all week. I wanted you to notice."
"Notice?" He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. His breath was hot on your face, smelling faintly of mint and adrenaline. "You wear that asshole's jersey to my game? Let him chirp me about you? I got ejected because of your petty bullshit!"
His voice rose, but there was something else there, hurt, mixed with the rage. You pushed at his chest, but it was like shoving a wall. "It was just a jersey, Matt. You overreacted."
He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one massive hand. His body pressed against yours, hard muscle unyielding. "Overreacted? You humiliated me out there. In front of my team, the fans. Now you're gonna make it right."
Your pulse raced, a mix of fear and excitement. This was the enforcer side of him, the one that protected on the ice, but now it was all for you and not gently. "How?" you whispered, voice breathy.
Matt's free hand gripped the hem of the Bennett jersey, yanking it up roughly. He tore it over your head in one motion, buttons popping from your top underneath. "By forgetting that prick ever existed." He tossed the jersey aside like trash, his eyes raking over your body now exposed in just your bra and jeans.
He released your wrists only to spin you around, pressing your chest to the wall. His hands were everywhere rough palms sliding under your bra, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. "You think you can tease me like that and walk away?" he murmured against your ear, his erection already straining against his slacks, grinding into your ass.
You arched back instinctively, the friction sending sparks through you. "Matt-"
"Shut up." He bit your earlobe, not gently, then yanked your jeans down, taking your panties with them. Cool air hit your bare skin as he kicked your legs apart. His fingers dove between your thighs, finding you wet already. "Fucking soaked. You like pissing me off, don't you? Getting me riled up."
Two thick fingers plunged inside you without warning, curling roughly. You cried out, hands scrabbling at the wall. He pumped them hard, thumb circling your clit with bruising pressure. "Say it," he demanded, his voice gravelly.
"Yes," you moaned, pushing back onto his hand. "I like it."
He chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers. You whimpered at the loss, but then heard his zipper. His cock sprang free heavy, thick, veined from base to tip, already leaking pre-cum. At his size, it was intimidating, but you craved it.
Matt gripped your hips, nails digging in, and thrust into you in one brutal stroke. You screamed, the stretch burning deliciously as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you. "That's right," he grunted, pulling back only to slam in again. "This pussy is mine. Not his. Mine."
He set a punishing pace, each thrust shaking your body against the wall. His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back so he could claim your mouth in a messy kiss teeth clashing, tongue dominating. The other hand roamed, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a mark, then soothing the sting before spanking again.
"You wore his jersey to make me jealous," he growled between thrusts, his hips snapping forward relentlessly. "Now you're gonna take every inch until you forget his name."
You were lost in it, moans spilling from your lips as he fucked you raw. The anger fueled him, making him rougher—pinching your clit, twisting your nipples, biting your shoulder until it bruised.
He pulled out suddenly, spinning you to face him. Your legs wobbled, but he lifted you effortlessly, your back against the wall again. Wrapping your thighs around his waist, he impaled you once more, deeper this time. "Look at me," he ordered, eyes locking on yours. "Tell me who you belong to."
"You," you gasped, nails raking down his back through his shirt. "Matt, fuck- only you."
Satisfied, he pounded into you, the angle hitting your g-spot with every drive. Sweat slicked his skin, his shirt clinging to his muscled chest. You clenched around him, orgasm building fast under the assault.
"Come for me," he commanded, one hand slipping between you to rub your clit furiously. "Show me how sorry you are."
You shattered, walls pulsing around his cock as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He didn't stop, fucking you through it until you were sobbing, overstimulated.
Only then did he pull out, setting you down on shaky legs. He pushed you to your knees, his cock glistening with your juices thrusting toward your face. "Open," he said, voice strained.
You did, tongue out, and he fed it to you inch by inch. The taste of yourself on him was heady as he gripped your hair, fucking your mouth with shallow thrusts at first, then deeper. "Suck it like you mean it," he groaned. "Make me forget that game."
You hollowed your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the head, taking him as deep as you could. His size made it a challenge, gagging slightly when he hit the back of your throat, but you loved the control it gave him. Saliva dripped down your chin as he used your mouth, hips bucking.
"Fuck, yes," he hissed, pulling out to slap his cock against your lips. "You're so good at this. My dirty girl."
He hauled you up carrying you to the bedroom where he gently set you down on the bed murmuring praises in your ear.
He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his massive arms. Both panting, sweat-slicked, the anger finally ebbed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "For ignoring you."
You nuzzled into his chest, sore but sated. "Me too. For the jersey."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep. "Burn it tomorrow."
You smiled, drifting off in his embrace, the petty fight forgotten in the heat of reconciliation.
But the night wasn't over. As your breathing evened, Matt's hand trailed down your body again, fingers teasing your folds. "Round two," he murmured, rolling you onto your back. His cock, hardening once more, nudged your entrance.
This time, he entered slowly, savoring the slide. But the roughness lingered—he pinned your hands above your head, thrusting deep and deliberate, eyes never leaving yours. "I love you," he said between kisses, nipping your lips.
"Love you too," you replied, wrapping your legs around him.
He built the pace gradually, hips rolling to grind against your clit. His mouth found your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting down just hard enough to make you arch. Free hand kneading the other, he alternated lick, suck, pinch driving you absolutely wild.
You bucked up to meet him, the intimacy of this round contrasting the earlier frenzy. But kinky edges remained; he flipped you onto all fours, entering from behind with a slap to your ass. "Ride back on it," he ordered, and you did, impaling yourself eagerly.
"Come with me," he grunted, thrusts erratic.
You shattered together, his cum mixing with yours as he filled you again. Exhausted, he pulled you close, the fight a distant memory.
-
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains. Matt was already up, making coffee, his bruises from the fight a reminder. You padded into the kitchen in his Rangers jersey—the real one this time.
He turned, smiling that calm off-ice smile. "Looks better on you."
You laughed, pulling him down for a kiss. The pettiness was gone, replaced by something stronger. And as he lifted you onto the counter, hands roaming, you knew the roughness would always be there—your secret spark.
A/n: Thanks for reading hope this is what you had in mind! much love!!!! inbox is open!
rempe having such a dirty mouth, like you’ll be against his back as he fucks you and makes you watch in a mirror
Take it | mr73
Summary: Matt's dirty mouth ruins you.
Warnings: PORN WITH NOOOOOO PLOT, daddy kink, Pet names, PIV unprotected, degradation
A/N: Part twooo????
HIs lips barely left yours as he shifted, moving to pin your wrists above your head with one hand, the other slid possessively along the curve of your waist.
You were dazed - wrecked, trembling beneath him, legs limp and weak. Your throat was raw from moaning and your body? aching in the best way, already sore, already stretched. But the way he was looking at you like you were his favorite fucking meal.
He dragged his mouth along your jaw, then your neck biting down just enough to make you gasp beneath him. You twisted beneath him, and his grip on your wrists only tightened.
Matt.." you breathed, still catching my breath, "that was-"
He paused. His head lifted slowly, eyes narrowing, the shift in his demeanor immediate. Cold and sharp and dominant.
"No" he said, his voice low and commanding, the smirk from before long gone. "what did you just call me?" He asked his hand moving to your jaw yanking you to meet his eyes.
Your pulse stuttered, your breath caught in your throat. His stare was so intense it pinned you in place harder than his grip.
You swallowed. hard. "daddy."
His mouth cured, not soft- possessive. "thats my girl"
Then he kissed you hard and deep, tongue sliding against yours until you were melting all over again. His hand moved to trail between your legs, pushing them apart to find you soaked. sensitive, already pulsing for him.
"Still so wet" He murmured, "you're such a good girl for daddy, huh?"
You whimpered, arching into his touch, desperate despite how full he'd made you just minutes ago.
"Please," You whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please... I need you"
He realized both your wrists slowly, dragging his palm down your chest, then your hips, as he sat back on his knees. You reached for him, but he caught your hands and pushed them back down.
"You don't get to touch," He said, "You just lay there and take what daddy gives you."
You nodded, breathing hard, legs already trembling as he lined himself up again.
And then he was inside.
No warning, no slow build- just one deep, punishing thrust that made you cry out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it.
He moved to lean over you, holding your face between his hands, staring straight into your soul. "Thats it, baby. Cry for me. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to."
"You," You gasped, body arching into his, unable to think, unable to speak.
"Say it," he growled.
"You, Daddy. It's yours- fuck- it's all yours"
His rhythm picked up- slow, powerful, devastating. Every thrust drove you deeper into the mattress. You were a mess beneath him, moaning, pleading, body quaking as he pushed you to the edge.
"I want you to come with me this time," He whispered against your lips. "not until I say so."
You nodded frantically, your whole body clenched thighs trembling as the pressure built again, so sharp you couldn't breathe.
"Now." He growled, "Cum now."
"D-Daddy" You whispered, heat blooming across your cheeks as you said it, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you were, how vulnerable. Your whole body ached with overuse, with want. And yet... you wanted more.
His lips curved into a dark, satisfied smirk.
"There's my good girl," He murmured, voice thick with lust and pride, "Now say it like you mean it."
You whimpered as he rolled his hips against you, still hard- still deep inside you. The stretch of him made you cry out, legs tightening around his waist.
"Please, Daddy," You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders, "I want it again - I need it."
He groaned low in his throat, like the words hit him somewhere primal. "Yeah? M needy little mess just can't get enough, huh?"
You nodded frantically biting your lip. "Please ruin me again."
He didn't need to be told twice.
Matt grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, locking his hand around them as he started to move again- slow and deep at first.
Welcome to the Blades and Babes Podcast!!
→ Get to know us!
Our names are Gianna and Katie! We are bruins fans but keep up frequently with the rest of the teams in the league! We absolutely adore hockey and have a lot of hot takes we are ready to share!
wc: 978
warnings: angsty but a happy ending!
pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader
A/N: omg im actually posting?? don't get used to this i go back to school soon and probably wont post anything til either spring break or the summer
Two Years Ago
You were pacing around your apartment, waiting for Nika to come over like she said she would.
Nika's been your unofficial girlfriend for a while, but you never put a label on what you had.
But she was leaving for the W soon, and you either wanted all or nothing with her.
A few minutes into your pacing, there was a knock on the door. You walked over and opened it, seeing Nika's smiling face. "You wanted to talk?" She said.
You nodded and invited her in. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee or tea?"
Nika shook her head and sat down on your couch. "I'm okay, thank you."
A small sigh left your body as you went over and sat down, leaving a bit of space between the two of you just in case everything went south.
"What's this about?" She asked cautiously.
You took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch a little. "You're leaving soon, and-"
"That doesn't mean this has to end, if that's where you're going with this," Nika interjected.
A small frustrated sigh left your lips. "What even is this, Nika? Are we girlfriends? Or just casually fucking?" She stayed silent and you just scoffed. "It's your choice, either we put a label on this, or I'm done."
The last thing Nika wanted was to completely lose you, but she didn't like the ultimatum you were giving her. "That's not fair, I need to focus on basketball-"
"And just lead me on the whole time? Have me thinking we could be something more, even though we never will be?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was getting difficult.
She sighed and stood up. "I- I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said before grabbing her things and walking to the door.
You stood up and watched her. She was so ready to leave, no hesitation. "So that's it then? You're just leaving?"
Nika's jaw twitched and she stared at you for a moment. "I"m sorry," she mumbled before opening the door and leaving, letting it close behind her.
You forced your eyes away from the door and looked out the window, watching the May atmosphere warming up the world, but it felt so cold in your apartment without Nika.
It hadn't been that long since Nika left for the W, and everyone already loved her. She charmed everyone she met, other players, fans, the media.
It's like she trained herself, got lessons on how to be a people person. She never was before. She was always polite, but kept to herself.
Except around you. You always were able to break down her walls and see what was really going on with her, how she really was.
But now you see this people pleaser on TV and social media, and all you can do is complain to your friends about it.
Two Summers from Now
After a while, you had managed to get over Nika. Well, more so over what happened with her.
You'd always have a soft spot for the girl, she saw you and supported you at your worst, and you could never stop loving her because of it.
It was ironic. You were about to head out to Seattle to visit some friends, and Nika was about to get on a plane back to Storrs to see her friends.
At this moment, you broke no contact with her. You sent her a text, hoping she didn't have you blocked, or that she didn't change her number.
You were a little surprised to see an answer from her short after you sent the message. The two of you ended up talking about life, realizing that just maybe, you could be cool with her.
She gave you some advice about Seattle, and you let her know how excited the other UConn girls would be to see her again.
The next few days went by in a blur. You were in Seattle, taking in the scenery, leaning out the window of your hotel and having a drink.
I love you, I'm Sorry
You were still in Seattle. You didn't realize that Nika had messaged your friends, asking what hotel you were at and your room number.
She came back early, and she wanted needed to see you before you left. She wanted to attempt to fix things.
Nika's feelings for you never left. She knew that she reacted badly when you told her what you wanted, and she wasn't sure that she could forgive herself for walking away so easily.
But she at least needed you to know that she still loved you.
At about 10pm that night, there was a knock on your hotel door. You looked over in confusion before getting up from your bed and walking over.
You opened the door, and it was like everything from the past few years came flooding back. "Nika?" You invited her inside. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to say sorry for everything. For the way I reacted back then, I was a dick about it, and you didn't deserver any of it," she said.
You were speechless, so she took it as her que to keep going. "I was the worst, and every time I go for a drive I think about the ones we used to take to clear our heads. I swear, it haunts me-" She cleared her through.
"Nika-" You said, but she cut you off.
"I still love you, I'm sorry." The words fell from her lips so effortlessly, you couldn't help but want to give in and see where it led.
So you did. You caved and rushed up to her, pressing your lips against hers.
It lasted for a few seconds before you rested your forehead against hers. "I love you, and I'm sorry, too."
