#b. faber

[willmackshipper]

𝐛𝐟𝟕 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬

request -> brock faber x reader, maybe something spicy if youre up to it, just fabes being real sweet to reader, whatever you feel like! thank you!!

Brock Faber Masterlist

The Hangover plays softly in the background as you and Brock enjoy your day off, you’re cooking a small lunch for the both of you and Brock is lounging on the couch scrolling on his phone. He laughs every so often as he half listens to the movie and every time he shouts “Babe! You gotta come see this!” You laugh and say “Brock I’m cooking us lunch!” but you go into the living room and watch it anyway. You hum quietly as you stir the pasta, the aroma of the sauce and herbs filling the room mixed with the nice spring breeze rolling through the open windows. You pick up a noodle out of the saucepan and taste it, deciding the sauce is the correct consistency and the noodles are done. You turn off the heat and call out to Brock, “Honey, lunch is ready!” You hear the noise from the TV cease and Brock’s footfalls make their way to the kitchen. He jogs in with a dopey, happy smile on his face. His glasses fall down the bridge of his nose as he bounds over to you like a little puppy.

He hugs you from behind and peppers kisses up and down your neck before inhaling deeply, breathing in your scent mixed with his cologne and the aroma of the food. “You’re happy today,” you state. Brock lets out a big breath as he steps back from you, “Yeah well I get to spend the day with you.” He says it so matter of factly that you almost missed what he said completely. You turn around and look at your boy, messy hair and all. He just shrugs nonchalantly and grabs a bowl out of the cupboard, then takes a few steps to the stove so he can fill his bowl with pasta. Once he decides it’s enough pasta he hands the bowl off to you, muttering “This is yours,” under his breath. You take the bowl from him, reach up and kiss his cheek, and make your way to the living room. Brock follows you with his own bowl of pasta, you both sit down on the couch and you cover Brock and yourself with the blanket that was haphazardly thrown to the side.

Brock grabs the remote off the coffee table and turns the movie back on before leaning back and eating his pasta. You both sit in silence as you eat your meal, Brock lets out occasional hums and ‘this is so good’. You laugh to yourself whenever he does along with reaching over and scratching the back of his head. Brock finishes his meal before you do and sets his bowl on the coffee table, then leaning back, scratching his stomach, and groaning. You huff and give him a look to which he smiles at and says “You did great baby, it was so good that I can feel myself slipping into a food coma now.” You take your last bite and laugh at Brock’s statement, leaning forward to put your bowl with Brock’s. You lay back on the couch and fake pout at Brock, “Aw you poor baby. What can I do to make you feel better?”

“I want cuddles.”

“Cuddles?”

“Cuddles.” Brock affirms. You smile and open your arms as an invitation for him. Brock’s smile stretches so wide across his face you fear it might split his face in two. He scrambles over to you, immediately plopping himself on top of you, head on your chest, arms wrapped around you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your bust and hums happily, his glasses become crooked from the angle in which he is laying. His mop of brown curls brush your chin and tickle your nose but you don’t move away, no, instead you wrap your arms around his back and hug him. For hours you lay together as one, Brock asleep on your chest as you keep alternating between the movie and him, occasionally you lean down and press a kiss to his head. He burrows his head ever farther into your chest, making a noncommittal noise while he sleeps.

When Brock wakes up the sky is darkening, the tv is playing some random show on low volume, and you are running your hands through his hair quickly lulling him to sleep. He lifts his head and looks up at you, briefly noticing his glasses had been removed and placed on the table. You’re watching the tv but look down when you feel the weight on your chest alleviate. “I love you,” Brock says quietly under his breath, trying not to break the peaceful silence. He leans up and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, smiling when he hears “I love you more, Brock.”

[frankie-and-lukey]

[penaltybox-gossip]

Brock posting this and looking at the comments is leaving me very confused…

He’s the only player to post this and I know Morgan has posted things in opposition to maga and ice so, again, very confused.

[sinbinsecrets]

all the chewed zyn packets on the table 😀🔫

ewwwww🤢🤢

[hockeybazooka]

Okay guess I'm gonna attempt this, Hello y'all I'm a VERY beginner hockey gossip blog. But don't play with me bc I don't condone racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism or misogyny (and yes that includes at wags). Send in anonymous asks/questions/gossip, but I will be expecting some sorta evidence.v🧐

P.S. if I find your ask redundant/ignorant its getting ignored!!!

_______________NOTES___________________

Please, please, please do not send a fuck ton of asks for the aforementioned people: Jack and Sammie, Olivia and Quinn and Auston and Megan. Ofc you can still send in asks about them but I've noticed when a blog gets an ask about they get flooded with more and become centered around them. 💀💀💀

-----------------MY HOES💯💯🤑😈------------

Aka. the players I live laugh love 👇👇👇

[willmackshipper]

𝐛𝐟𝟕 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

request -> body worship/praise with brock faber, either brock praising reader or reading praising him after a game

TW -> smut

Brock Faber Masterlist

Brock is lying on the bed asleep, tuckered out from getting one goal and 3 assists in the 5-2 win tonight. He also got the first star of the game and you couldn’t wait to show him just how proud you are of him. You slip into the room, clad in skimpy forest green lingerie, and sit on the bed right next to Brock’s sleeping form. You lean down and place featherlight kisses on his lips and over his cheeks. Brock’s eyes flutter open and lock onto you, his cheeks become rosy as he lets his eyes trail over your skimpy ‘outfit’. “What’s this for?” He questions, words slurring with speech. You smile sweetly at him and caress his face with your hand. “Well Mr. First Star, I thought I’d show you just how proud of you I am.”

Brock’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he quickly scrambles up so he can be eye to eye. He gulps and stutters as he says “Really?” You smirk and nod, quickly moving to straddle Brock, setting your core on his prominent bulge. You kiss him deeply, shifting and grinding your hips into his. Brock moans into the kiss and tries to kiss you deeper but you pull back and crawl off of his lap. You slide to the end of the bed and sit back on your heels, Brock is looking at you with rosy cheeks and a blissed out look on his face. “W-What’re you doin?” He slurs his question, still caught up in the passionate kiss you shared. “Lay down. Put your head on the pillow.” You order him to which he quickly complies, laying his head on the pillow.

“Are you sore Brock?” He looks puzzled for a minute before nodding his head. “Good.” You say with a smile as you scoot up to sit in between his calves, you reach forward and start gently massaging his thighs. He groans as you massage his aching legs, his cock pulses harder the closer you get to the top of his leg. You stop massaging him only so you can drag his boxers down and off of his body. His cock springs back as the fabric stops covering it, the tip is red and angry with an exorbitant amount of precum leaking for the tip. The sight makes you smile as you lean down to press a kiss to his muscly thigh, along with a little nibble because you can help yourself. “Do you know just how much I love your thighs? I know that’s kind of weird but god I just can’t help it. Every time I see the muscles in your thighs flex I just get so wet.” Brock moans at your words, his cock twitching in response to your truth.

Brock mumbles something, something ineligible, and jerks his hips up. You chuckle to yourself before finally deciding to rid him of the ache in his cock. You crawl back on top of him, turning yourself around so you can ride him reverse cowgirl. You line him up with your slit and sink down on him, both of you letting out simultaneous moans. “Fuck” Brock mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your tight cunt around his cock. Brock’s hips jerk up which makes him go deeper inside of you, the feeling has tears brimming in your eyes and moans leaving your lips. You alternate between rocking and grinding on his cock to bouncing, each move you’re closer to a release. Once you start to get tired Brock takes over, jutting his hips up into you.

“Shit-,” Brock groans, “Baby I’m gonna cum. You close?” You only moan in response. Brock brings his hand forward and wraps it around you, setting his finger on your clit he starts rubbing circles, edging you, begging you for a release. Brock sits up, his chest to your back, and nibbles on your neck and shoulders. He thrusts into you hard and you snap. Your orgasm overtakes you, all your senses are focused on one thing and one thing only; Brock. As you come down from your release you feel Brock have his own high, the room is quite sans from the heavy breathing and light giggles. You slowly get off of Brock, shakily walking to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean the both of you off. Brock is sitting up against the bed with his eyes shut and a still half hard cock. You crawl on the bed over to him and whip your mixed releases from around his cock.

You notice that some of his seed dribbled onto his thighs so instead of whipping it off with the rag you lean down and lick it off, sucking and biting as go. Brock whimpers in response but doesn't ask you to stop. Once you finish “cleaning up” you lay against Brock and trace random shapes on his chest. Brock breaks the peaceful silence by softly muttering, “I am never wearing pants again if you act like that every time you see my thighs.”

That earned him a light snack on the chest.

[willmackshipper]

𝐛𝐟𝟕 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐫

request -> Can I request something with Brock Faber? Some hurt/comfort perhaps? He gives such sweet/protective vibes 🫶

TW -> unwanted creepy man hitting on you at a bar

Brock Faber Masterlist

The bar you and Brock are currently seated in is sticky with sweat and stale beer, a combo you’ve unfortunately been exposed to thousands of times before thanks to college parties. You and Brock are sitting at a booth in the back of the bar with a few other players from the Wild, drinks in hand and listening to Quinn share some childhood stories. You’re practically sitting in Brock’s lap thanks to the enormous hockey players currently occupying the booth, one of his arms is wrapped around your waist keeping you steady while the other holds his drink.

Brock’s chin rests on your shoulder. He places a kiss on your there and on your neck every few minutes, his way of saying I love you. Every time he does the boys tease him, pushing him slightly as they call him whipped, Brock just nods in response “Yeah,” he says, “I am.” You smile and cup Brock’s cheek with your hand, rubbing your thumb across his cheekbone. Your silent way of saying I love you. You reach forward and take one final swig of your martini, finishing it off as Brock follows suit by taking a swig of his beer and finishing that as well.

You pat Brock’s thigh which lets him know that you’re going to get up. His arm immediately unwraps from around your waist, letting you move out of the crowded booth freely. “I’m going to go get some refills. You want the same?” Brock smiles and nods in response, also telling you “Thank you.” as you start to walk towards the bar. Brock watches you walk through the crowd with a small smile still resting on his face. He sits back in his seat and turns back to face Quinn who is in the middle of telling everyone about Luke’s awkward first date.

You push through the massive crowd, sweat and heat courses through the air around you making you feel gross and sticky, that combined with the heavy smell of alcohol makes you want to hurry back into the safety of Brock’s arms. You finally reach the bar and call the bartender over, requesting a new drink for Brock and yourself. You lean against the bar as you wait for your drinks. A warm body slides up behind you, the person's soft tummy and weed smelling skin immediately tells you that person is not Brock. You spin around and are met with small, beady eyes and an unkempt man that leers down at you like he thinks he’s about to have his way with you.

“Hey.”

You immediately hate him. “Get off of me.” You demand. His smile widens showcasing his cracked yellow teeth and uncaging his horrible dragon's breath. “Now I don’t think I’m gonna do that.” Your face pulls back into a scowl and your hands push at his sweaty shoulders in a desperate attempt to get him off of you. He doesn’t budge. “Hey buddy! Wanna step away from the lady?” The bartender shouts from behind you as he slides your drinks across the bar. “I don’t think so.” The man seethes as he reaches around your back and grabs your ass pulling you further into him.

“Brock!”

Brock’s head snaps up and goes towards the bar, spotting you instantly. He gets up in a white hot rage as he registers the man’s hands on your ass, the rest of the Wild team following behind him. Brock reaches you in a couple steps, the booming crowd begins to quiet and steps out of Brock’s way like a bull fighter stepping out of the way of the bull. When Brock reaches the man he grabs the front of his shirt, yanking him off you and throwing a mean right hook to his face. The man falls backward and crashes into the table but the only thing Brock can focus on is your shaking hands and wobbling lips.

Brock takes a tentative step forward, holding his hands out, while quietly asking you “Can I touch you?” You nod and take one small step closer to Brock, falling into his arms with tears streaming down your cheeks. “I want to go home.” Brock strokes your hair and places a warm, supportive hand on your back as he starts escorting you out of the bar, making sure to avoid the man who is currently laid out on the floor. Brock walks you to his car, making sure to open the door and help you into the car while also putting your seatbelt on for you because your hands are shaking too much for you to do it.

Brock runs around and gets in the drivers side, starting the car and making sure the cool air was pointed your way. Not enough to make you shiver but enough to keep you aware and calm. Before Brock can start driving you both home Matt knocks on the window holding out your purse and Brock’s jacket. Brock rolls down the window and thanks Matt as he takes the items from his hands, putting them in the backseat. “Also the tendy said the drinks were on the house.” Brock nods and thanks Matt once more, rolling the window back up when Matt starts to walk away. Brock takes one last look at you, reaches over to grab your hand and starts driving home.

Once you arrive home Brock holds your hand and walks you back up to the apartment, he doesn’t say anything and neither do you, letting a peaceful silence wash over you. Brock unlocks the door and lets you walk in first before he follows after you, closing and locking the door then letting his eyes scan the room, looking for you. He doesn’t find you immediately so he walks to the kitchen to make you a warm cup of tea to help with your nerves. Brock hears the sound of drawers closing and hangers sliding coming from your shared bedroom so he follows the sound, tea cup in hand.

He finds you sitting on the side of the bed, knees tucked into your chest like you’re trying to hide from the world. Brock walks over and sets the tea on the nightstand before sitting down next to you, leaving enough space so you don’t feel overwhelmed but still close enough that you feel his support and protection. Your head lifts from where it was buried in between your knees and turns towards Brock, your eyes softening the moment you see him. “Brock.” Your voice breaks and that’s all it takes for Brock to wrap you in a hug, letting you bury your face in his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears and snot.

Brock just rocks you back and forth, his arms are tight around you. After a few minutes Brock shifts and lays you down on the bed, your head resting on his chest, his arms still wrapped protectively around you. “I’ve got you.” He whispers, his voice soft. “I’ve got you.” He says again almost like he’s trying to convince himself. For the rest of the night you sleep in Brock arms, safe and sound. Brock stays awake. He listens to your steady breathing, the sound almost lulling him to sleep but he stops himself from actually falling asleep, he can’t let himself fall asleep because he needs to know that you're okay.

Eventually, Brock does fall asleep, sometime around 3 AM. He holds you in his arms as you sleep on his chest, the fan whirls above you circulating a nice cool breeze throughout the room. The warm tea is now cold and abandoned on the bedside table. That night you dream of Brock and the way he makes you feel, you dream of how safe you feel whenever you’re with him. You love him. You know that he’ll always be there to protect you, to love you, because he’s Brock. Your Brock. Thanks to him you sleep soundly in his bed feeling safe and secure in his arms.

[willmackshipper]

𝐛𝐟𝟕 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬

request -> hili can itequest more brock faber smur since ik u did onenin tne oast if ur not comfy w writing rhat can i j do a brock faber olympic story after rhe gold medal game and that the readers sidney crosbys daughter and was going to okay for fhe team canada womens team but got hurt and it was this entire media thing

TW -> smut

Brock Faber Masterlist

The bar that you and the rest of Team Canada are sitting in is loud and hot. So, so hot even though it’s in the middle of winter in Milan. Your team surrounds you as they sip on their drink of choice, albeit solemnly, after their loss in the Gold Medal game. The worst part was you couldn’t even play! During the Semifinals you took a hard hit into the boards and injured your leg, bad enough that your coach, team doctors and even your dad, Sidney Crosby, told you that you weren’t allowed to play. So you sat in the suites during the game right next to your equally injured father and vice versa for his gold medal game. Let’s just say it’s not a great time for Team Canada.

That’s why you are sitting at the bar now, drinking your feelings and trying to forget this disappointing time in your life. Though it becomes hard to do when the door to the bar flies open and reveals a bunch of men dressed in Ralph Lauren with three main colors: red, white and blue. The USA men’s hockey team. Their cheeks are flushed from the cold and from the enormous amounts of alcohol they’ve already consumed. Among them is a man with wavy brown hair and glasses that are upside down on his face. His wide smile shows his pearly white teeth and his genuine joy from how this day has gone.

The minute Brock enters the bar his gaze zeros in on you. You're still in your red pantsuit from today’s game, the way it fits and wraps around your body makes Brock’s hands sweat and his heart race. He abandons the rest of the team and starts walking over to you, and for some unexplainable reason, Brock’s heart seems to skip a beat. He reaches the bar, standing next to your barstool, pretending to focus on which drink he’s gonna get but in reality he is paying attention to you. The way you haven’t looked around once since they walked in, the way that frowns still sit on your face, the way your fingers pick at the napkin that is under your drink.

“What would you like?”

The bartender breaks Brock out of his little trance and it finally brings your attention to Brock. Brock mumbles out his answer of some cheap American beer, his cheeks flushing under the warm yellow light of the bar. “Hey.” Brock’s breath gets caught in his throat, his hands clench from his nerves before he finally faces you. You’re sitting on the barstool, one arm on the bar propping your head up and the other swirling your drink, making the ice clink together.

“H-Hey.” Brock stutters out, astonished that you are actually talking to him. “Nice glasses.” You comment before taking a sip of your drink. Brock’s eyes lock in on the way your lips wrap around the straw, the way your cheeks hollow when you suck the alcohol out the straw. Brock’s eyebrows lift for a second, briefly forgetting that his glasses are currently sitting upside down on his face. “Fuck.” Brock mumbles before reaching up and fumbling to put his glasses on the right way. “Wanna get outta here?” You question.

Brock has never said the word ‘yes’ faster.

────────── ❤︎ ──────────

You shove Brock up against your hotel door, your lips are locked together in a fiery, passionate kiss. His hands rest on your ass while yours are threading through his hair, pulling it and twisting it in a way that has Brock seeing stars. He groans into the kiss before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, gently biting and sucking little marks into your skin as he goes. You throw your head back in bliss, overcome with pleasure as Brock finds your sweet spot.

He kisses his way back up to your lips as his fingers work on unbuttoning your top, your suit jacket has been pushed off you before you even entered the room. His lips leave yours once more as he trails kisses down your chest, shoving the shirt off you once it becomes fully unbuttoned, leaving you just in your bra. Brock, who is on his knees before you, looks up at you and softly mutters “Fuck.” under his breath. “Take my pants off.”

Brock swallows, nodding slowly as he unbuttons and unzips your pants, sliding them down your legs, once again kissing as he goes. He looks back up at you, noting how your head is thrown back against the door, your hands are curled around his hair and a breathy moan leaves your lips. Brock kisses around your thighs before finally reaching that spot you so desperately want him to kiss. He places a single kiss on your cloth-covered clit before pulling your panties down. Brock flattens his tongue and licks your pussy, stopping to pay special attention to your clit which eases a moan out of you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Brock sucks harshly at your clit causing your orgasm to come at full force, your body shudders and twitches, your hands grip Brock’s curls so tightly that you’re pretty sure that you ripped a few pieces out. Brock lazily laps at your sweet cum before kissing back up your body, stopping at your breasts to give them some attention. He finally reaches your lips and goes to give you a kiss but you stop him before he can, “Bed. Now.” you order. Brock stands still, eyes blown wide, not moving.

You push at his chest, forcing him to walk backwards, his knees buckling once he reaches the bed causing him to fall back, being slightly propped up by his hands. You stand in front of him and reach back to unclasp your bra, dragging the straps down your arms and finally pulling it off you, letting your breasts free. You toss your bra aside as you walk forward and straddle Brock on the bed, tugging at the hem of his shirt, urging it off of him. He takes it off and tosses it behind him before reaching down to take off his pants.

“No.” You stop him, hand on his, halting his actions. “W-What?” He stumbles, clearly confused. You bat his hand away and instead place yours at his waistband, “I’ll take it off.” Brock nearly cums in his pants. You slide both his pants and his boxers down his legs, struggling a bit since you’re still on top of him, but alas, you finally get them far enough down that they’re not a bother. Brock’s thick cock springs up and slaps against his stomach, his tip is red, angry and currently seeping precum like a runny faucet.

You grip him in your hand, stroking him a few times before lining his tip with your entrance. You sink down on him letting him fill you up with his cock, not stopping until he’s balls deep. “Fuck,” you murmur, “you feel so fucking good. Filling me up like this.” Brock just moans at your words. You sit up and let Brock almost leave you completely before slamming back down causing Brock to let out a loud shout, his balls clenching with the urge to release. The next few minutes are spent with you basically using Brock as a toy, grinding on him, kissing him, even throwing a few bites in there.

“I’m gonna cum.” Brock pants. “You don’t cum until I do. Is that clear?” You grip his chin, forcing his fluttering eyes onto you. “Yes. Yes!” You bring him back into a kiss, riding him hard and fast to reach your peak, before that amazing feeling overcomes your entire body for a second time tonight. Brock cums with you, his hands grip the bedsheets while yours grip his shoulders. He shoots his release inside you, dragging you close to him, his mouth next to your ear as he lets out a beautiful moan.

“Fuck. Can we do that again some time?”