#jd75 x reader

[kaiawrites]

this is me trying

jakub dobeš x gn!reader

word count: 753

summary: the canadiens just got eliminated from the playoffs, and your boyfriend is blaming himself. good thing you're here to comfort him

warnings: angsty, habs losing, a bit of self-deprecation, its just pretty sad sorry, no use of y/n

a/n: im currently working on a slaf story, but i was too sad about the habs losing to write all that fluffy stuff, so here's a short drabble born out of my sadness and my friend's suggestion lol

5-0.

You shut the TV almost instinctively, abruptly plunging the room into pitch black silence. It was so tempting to keep it that way, to save yourself the heartache of watching the team lose hope, of watching Jakub save shot after shot, knowing none of it would be enough unless his team actually tried scoring.

You turned the TV back on. You had told Jakub you would watch. He hadn’t wanted you to come, and you knew he hadn’t really wanted you to watch either by the look on his face when you’d told him you’d watch. But he wasn’t giving up, so the least you could do was keep the damn TV open and not give up on him either.

It was still 5-0, obviously. Not that you actually believed that closing your TV for half a minute would have somehow made the game disappear or reset. The second period ended a few moments later, and you muted the TV, the quiet immediately soothing your headache as you closed your eyes. The intermission passed much too quickly, and you were back to watching the game with bated breath, your stomach dropping anytime the puck made its way too close to Jakub’s net, your heart rate accelerating whenever the Habs took a shot.

You smiled softly when Caufield scored with just under ten minutes left on the timer, though the goal was like a band-aid to a gaping wound. 

When, with around five minutes left in the game, the team pulled Jakub from the ice, only for him to be brought back only moments later after an empty net goal, you could swear your headache grew tenfold. 

And when the team got another penalty with but a minute remaining, you could tell Jakub had all but given up. You closed the TV before the timer could hit zero.

It was about one hour later that you heard the faint beep of a keycard being scanned, and the click of the door as it unlocked.

You sat up in bed, turning on a bedside lamp as you watched Jakub walk in, immediately letting his bags thump to the ground in a muffled sound.

“Thought you’d be asleep,” he said simply as he remained standing in the same spot. And god, he looked so tired. He had looked tired on TV as well, but now that you could really see his face, unobstructed by the helmet’s cage, or by the distance of having to watch him through a screen, you could make out details you hadn’t been able to before.

“‘Course not,” you replied, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Did you already shower?” You asked, and Jakub noddled meekly. You patted the space beside you on the bed. Jakub stood there, motionless for a moment, before making his way toward you. He slumped down onto the bed beside you, his head immediately coming to rest on your shoulder.

“You didn’t need to watch the game, you know?” He said after a moment of silence. Your hand reached up to comb his hair back gently. “I let in five goals. Five,” he added after realizing you weren't going to respond, bitterness dripping from his tone.

“You’re tired,” you replied quietly.

“We’re all tired,” he replied, implying it wasn’t a valid excuse.

“Exaclty. It’s a team sport, baby. Even if you played your best game ever, you can’t win it alone,” you said, continuing to comb through his freshly washed hair. “You can’t lose it alone, either, though. It’s not your fault any more than anyone else on the team.”

“We still scored, though. If I hadn’t let any of those goals in, we would have won,” he replied stubbornly.

“You’re asking too much of yourself, my love. The other guys didn’t have to play the entire sixty minutes every other night for the past month. It’s okay, normal, that you’re tired,” you replied, your heart breaking at the self-deprecation in his voice.

“I’m so tired,” he replied, finally dropping the argumentative tone, which melted into pure exhaustion. 

“Well, get in here, then,” you replied, shuffling back to the centre of the bed and pulling the covers up. Jakub tossed his shoes off before shuffling in beside you, leaning over to close the bedside lamp. You held your arms out in the darkness, bringing him into your embrace. You continued playing with his hair, and it didn’t take long for you to hear his breathing even out, before drifting off yourself.

[lovings4turn]

┆ ⤿ 🪽 ⌗ OUT OF THE SPOTLIGHT, INTO YOUR ARMS — JAKUB DOBEŠ

summary... very little compares to being celebrated and adored by thousands of fans occupying the bell centre. except, of course, knowing that after all of it, when the lights dim and the cheers die out, jakub gets to go back home to you. [1k words]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ dedicated to the lovely @sweetdispatch for our one year anniversary!!! a special day meant a special fic, so i had to branch out n finally write something for doby, especially considering how much we've been talking about him lately😽

IT STILL HASN’T QUITE SUNK IN. sometimes, it doesn’t feel fully real. jakub’s half convinced that he’ll wake up one morning and discover that all of the cheers, the chants of his name and the countless jerseys bearing the number ‘75’ on their sleeves littering the stands were some long, hyperrealistic dream. 

the dedication of the fans, and their unabridged passion towards the game, it all speaks to jakub, because he knows exactly how they feel. how many times has he been told that he’s too emotional? though you try to steer him away from social media after harder games, it’s impossible for him to avoid seeing the tweets, and the comments, making fun of how much of himself he puts into every single game. 

you, however, always celebrate that part of him. it’s admirable to you, to watch how much passion your boyfriend pours into every single move he makes on the ice, and you make your pride known to him every single day. 

so, when asked how he’s going to celebrate the big win, jakub merely grins lopsidedly, shrugging his shoulders as though the answer has been obvious all along.

“nothing fancy. i will go home. or, to my girlfriend’s. i like to see her after games. we will probably just eat, go to sleep. but, i like that. best part of my day.”

later, that clip comes across your timeline on instagram. teasing him, you hold the phone an inch away from his face and coo over how sappy he is, how deeply in love with you he must be. even though he rolls his eyes and swats at your phone, he never makes an effort to deny your words.

he’d only spoken the truth, after all. 

very little can compare to the atmosphere of a home game, but jakub feels truly at home when he steps foot into your tiny apartment. there’s a little piece of you everywhere he looks, from your pile of shoes at the door to the coffee table strewn with your latest and previous reads. 

each step he takes causes him to relax further, and he softens when he finds you in the kitchen, humming along to an upbeat pop song and kneading some sort of sweet scented dough. dinner sits in the bottom of the oven, keeping warm, and the whole scene is so domestic it makes his heart jump. 

no matter what happens out there on the ice, it’s all worth it when jakub comes home to this, to you. 

not wanting to startle you, he tries to make his presence known by dropping his keys onto the counter, the jingling sound barely audible over the vocals of zara larsson. keeping his voice soft, jakub tries another approach.

“hey,” he says gently, tapping your shoulder as though you’re fragile glass, susceptible to breaking if not handled with utmost care. “i’m back.”

an excited squeal meets his ears, and jakub has never been more grateful for his fast goalie reflexes when you launch yourself at him, arms flinging around his neck like you haven’t seen him in days. 

in this moment, jakub doesn’t even care about the sticky dough clinging to your fingers. instead, he merely laughs, burying his face into your hair before brushing a kiss to your crown, smoothing down some of the fly away strands. 

“wow,” he grins, boyish and charming. “that is quite the reaction.”

unashamed, you free him from your grips for long enough to fumble with your phone, trying to blindly jab at the device and cut the music. 

“are you kidding? i watched the game. you deserve it.”

the words leave you effortlessly, and that fact is enough to make warmth bloom behind jakub’s ribs. it’s the way you never have to think about it, when you praise him, how your affection seems to slip from your lips like honey, coating him in their golden, syrupy sweetness. like loving him is natural, something you were destined for. 

“i was just doing my job,” he tries, but you cut him off, affectionately hip-checking him as you move over to the sink to properly wash your hands.

“boo, don’t play humble. you were fucking insane out there, and you know it. you’re, like, jesus to these people now.”

hands clean, you pad back over to your boyfriend, stretching up to cup his face in your palms and squish his cheeks a touch. despite the playful gesture, your tone turns softer, as though you’re disclosing a secret.

“i always tell you how incredible you are. ‘m so glad everyone else is seeing it, too.”

jakub’s eyes soften, his lashes fluttering a touch, but before he can respond, you’ve pressed a kiss to his puffed out lips, then another, then another. suddenly, little pecks are raining all over his face, kisses hitting anywhere you can reach, from his nose to his scruffy jaw.

it’s an effort to gloss over the quick moment of sappiness, but it’s so silly, so perfectly you, that jakub lets himself melt into it rather than attempting to break free.

only when you feel you’ve sufficiently showered him in enough affection do you let him go, patting his cheek twice.

“okay,” you start, and jakub tunes in, already prepared to follow whatever plan you’re about to lay out. “i’m gonna wrap this cookie dough up and put it in the refrigerator. you go change into something comfy, i’ll plate dinner up, and i’ll meet you on the couch.”

jakub mockingly salutes you and squeezes your hips in confirmation, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. 

“this is why i love you,” he says, and his smile is audible in his confession. 

“only the best for the best,” you respond, and pat his chest. “now go. dinner in five!”

and maybe other players prefer to celebrate with fancy, extravagant dinners or rowdy nights out, but jakub would never trade his post game traditions with you for the world.

[habsbabe]

hi there, i was just wondering if you could make a fic on either dobes or newhook? thank youu

Quiet Nights - Jakub Dobeš

Pairing: Jakub Dobeš x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

The air in the apartment was thick and heavy, the 8-3 loss to buffalo hanging, lingering. There was no nice way to put it, the team as a collective had played horrible. Logically you both knew it wasn’t all to blame on Jakub, but logic wasn’t in the room right now.

You kept your distance as he bustled through the space, showing, changing, getting ready for bed. The bathroom door closed a bit harder than necessary, the dishwasher emptied with more clatter from the dishes.

Words failed you as you tried to figure out how to break the silence. Dating Jakub you’d learned how to comfort him from a loss before, but never one this bad and in a game so important. You wanted to ask him how he needed you, what he needed you to do for him, but it was too difficult to do.

Walking up behind him in the kitchen, your touch froze him. Slipping your arms around his torso and burring your face in his chest, you squeezed. He melted, limbs and muscle flowing around you, consuming you. You could feel him swallow hard, body shuddering with deep breaths.

“Come on,” you whispered. “Let’s go to bed baby.”

The two of you moved as a unit, flowing through the steps to get ready, shedding clothes and slipping beneath the comforter.

He radiated warmth as you curled up to his bare side. Lips pressed to his ribs, thumbs drawing affirmations on his stomach and shoulder.

“I love you Jakub.” You repeated between soft kisses to his skin. “You’re always allowed to have bad day.” Another kiss. “You’re human.” Lips to skin. “That’s why I love you.”