Also Jarvy going from a last minute Olympic roster nominee, losing in OT there, and now getting his name in NHL history, when he’s been plagued with self-doubt his whole career and wondered if he’s good enough to be here…😭😭😭
summary: Seth doesn’t really mind that his game is cancelled, especially when it means spending more time with you.
wc: 1.7k
a/n: my first hurricanes fic w/ one of my fav hurricanes guys! this is a lil self-indulgent but oh well. inspired by the real storm thats about to hit half of the u.s., everyone pls stay warm & safe!
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“Cancelled?” Your disbelief cuts through the otherwise peaceful lull of Seth’s apartment, which was a rarity with him.
He chuckles, squints his eyes at you. “Yeah—well, moved to a later date anyway. To be decided or whatever,” He hurriedly thumbs at the joystick of the controller he’s holding, guiding the virtual version of himself across the ice to attempt a wrist shot on Ottawa's goalie.
The shot bounces off the post and Seth groans. Since he couldn’t play his actual match against the Senators, he had settled for recreating it in NHL 26. To you, he seemed just as frustrated by the video game as he got in a real life hockey game.
“Huh. Well, that makes sense, I guess I didn’t realize they could just…do that.” You hum thoughtfully, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. Your legs were comfortably draped across Seth’s lap, the rest of you nestled into the cushions of his comfy couch. He kept you pinned there, leaning into your legs as he played, like they were a seatbelt keeping him strapped into a rollercoaster. In between games, he’d sneakily inch his hand toward your foot until you felt a soft wiggle of his fingertips along the arch of your foot, causing you to swat his hand away. What? Seth would say, feigning innocence, I didn’t do anything!
Outside his apartment window, clouds loom over the Raleigh skyline, gray and threatening to spill over with the snow that was responsible for cancelling the Hurricanes’ game.
The storm was all anyone had been talking about for the past week—meteorologists doing their best to predict the snowfall, local schools advertising their delays and cancellations, grocery stores picked clean of bread and milk.
“Yeah well, you southerners go crazy over a little snow.” Seth smirks, putting on an over-the-top southern drawl, mimicking your own. As much as he liked teasing you for your frequent use of “y’all” and the way you pronounced certain words like “tire” you knew he was a sucker for your accent. He leans forward off the couch, as if inching closer to the TV would help him to make this next shot.
“Nuh uh,” you chirp childishly, “It’s not just snow. It’s an ice storm.”
Seth didn’t really get it. Being from Canada, he was actually used to dealing with more than his fair share of snow and ice. Down here, it just wasn’t the same. Down here, it was much rarer to get battered with winter weather. And as much as you liked the snow flurries, you were less than prepared to deal with its after effects.
“And,” you huff while attempting to shimmy your legs off his lap, “I should really get going before it rolls in.”
“What?” Seth swiftly pauses his game, latching onto your legs to keep you close to him. He all but launches his controller onto the coffee table, turning towards you with puppy dog eyes.
You laugh lightly, falling back into the pillows. “Yeah, I don’t wanna be on the roads when it starts snowing. May get stuck at home for a while.”
You watch as the gears slowly turn in your boyfriend’s brain, a lightbulb flickering on from above his head.
“Soooo…” Seth drags out, rubbing slow soft circles into your kneecap, “Just stay here.”
“Really?” You ask, quirking up an eyebrow in surprise. You and Seth had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now, but you had yet to spend the night at either one’s apartment. For one reason or another—your nerves, his late games, your work schedule, his long stretches on the road—always got in the way.
“Yeah, really!” He laughs, as if what you said was hilarious. “Like you said, you may get stuck in the house. So get stuck here, with me. I don’t want you to be alone in this mess. I mean, what if you lose power?”
“Oh, so now it’s gonna be a mess? Thought it was just a liiiittle snow?” You tease, pinching your fingers together and moving to sit up. You scooch closer to Seth, your legs still swung over him.
He rolls his eyes playfully, “Hey, I’m just sayin. You’re the one who said it’s supposed to be an ice storm. I’m just lookin’ out for my girl.” Seth says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth.
You rub at your cheek, as if that would erase the heat blooming across your cheek from hearing Seth call you his girl. You’d be lying if you said an extended sleepover with him didn’t sound like a dream come true. In fact, it was what you’d been waiting for.
But a small part of you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Scared even.
“But…I don’t have any of my clothes here.” You squeak out, pressing your cheek to the couch.
“Just wear my clothes.” Seth quickly responds, like he’d been waiting for you to bring that up. Eager to offer up his wardrobe to you, the mere thought of seeing you strut around the apartment in his clothes had his brain short-circuiting.The blush returns to your cheeks, and you lean into the couch harder.
“I don’t have my toothbrush or toothpaste. Or my shampoo, or my conditioner, or my hairbrush, or my facewash, or my favorite pillow—”
Seth’s laugh cuts you off. “Well baby, get in the car real quick and we’ll swing by your apartment. You can pick up some clothes and all your little,” he wiggles his fingers in front of your face, “essentials.”
He drags his thumb across your warm cheek, his touch featherlight. You hum, not daring to speak aloud just yet.
“Unless you don’t wanna stay over? That’s okay too.” He questions, his tone not hurt, rather understanding. Seth had wondered why you hadn’t asked to stay over yet, but never pressed. He liked what the two of you already had, and had no intention of pressuring you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.
“No, no,” You quickly rush out, grabbing at his hand to keep it smushed against your face, “I really do. I guess I’m just…nervous?”
You shrug, suddenly self-conscious, “I don’t know, like…maybe you don’t want to spend that much time with me. Like you’ll get tired of me, or—”
“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Seth presses a finger to your lips to shush you, causing you to smile, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough time spent with you. And I could never, ever, EVER, get tired of you.”
You open your mouth to argue, but he’s quick to interrupt again, “In fact, I couldn’t think of a better way to end my night than getting into bed next to you, and a better way to start my morning than waking up with you next to me. If anything, you’ll be the one getting tired of me.”
His confession makes your heart stutter. You don’t know exactly what to say---can’t put into words just how much hearing Seth, (who’s usually so casual with his spoken affection) say that means to you. Instead, you show your gratitude through the kiss you plant on his lips, soft and lingering. Seth melts into the kiss, matching your fervor.
“Okay,” You say simply, resting your forehead against his.
“Okay?” He smiles, pulling away to look at you, “Go get in the car babe, let’s go get your stuff.”
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Seth watches you from his spot in the bathroom, leaning against the door frame as he brushes his teeth. You’re nestled in his bed (which looks infinitely more comfortable with you in it) watching the wintry mix fall from outside the window, clad in nothing but a pair of panties and one of his oversized shirts, despite the fact that you’d packed enough clothes to last an entire week.
Not that he was complaining. Far from it, in fact.
He quickly finishes brushing his teeth—much earlier than he should, no way that his teeth were entirely clean—spits out the froth of toothpaste and water and practically jumps into bed.
You giggle, shifting over slightly to make room for him. Seth only scoots closer into your space, desperate to feel your skin against his.
“It’s really coming down out there,” You remark, gaze still fixed on the flurries of snow and sheets of sleet that tumble against the window.
“Aren’t you glad you decided to sleep over?” Seth mumbles against your neck. He was spooning you now, your back flush against him, arms wrapped around you tightly. Sometimes you wondered how his teammates would react if they knew how much of a teddy bear Seth was behind closed doors. Some of them, like Jesperi, would surely give him hell for it.
“Aren’t you glad I did?” You deflect, rolling over to face your boyfriend. He gives you a toothy grin as you throw a leg over his waist, effectively entangling yourself with him under the sheets, “Damn right I am.”
That makes you giggle, as most things Seth says tend to do. It’s effortless with him. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the scent of him and the faint pattering of freezing rain against the window pain making your eyes grow heavier.
Seth brushes a hand through your hair slowly, “You know,” He says quietly, hesitant to interrupt the peace, “I could get used to this.”
“Hmm? And what would that be?” You hum into his chest, raising a brow as if pretending to consider his words.
“You, wearing my shirt—that’s like, two sizes too big on you. In my bed. Next to me, with no plans tomorrow except whatever we want.” He’s whispering now, mouth tickling your ear.
If Seth wasn’t holding you against him, you’d swoon. “Careful,” You tease, “You’re going to get spoiled.”
“Welp,” He says, popping the P, “Too late!”
You smile to yourself, and for a moment, neither of you speak. The room is filled with the soft patter of ice against glass, the low hum of the heater kicking on, Seth’s steady breathing against your collarbone. His hand rests at your waist, warm and grounding, thumb tracing absent little arcs like he’s memorizing you.
“I could get used to this too.” You murmur quietly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
Seth’s grip around you tightens, drawing you closer into him, if that were even possible. He’d need to hold you close all through the night, he convinced himself.
you are so, so fucking glad that the playoffs are finally over. as happy as you were to see your boyfriend's team make it all the way to the final and win, you are way more happy that they're actually done. and it's for one reason.
the stupid playoff beard tradition. all the guys who can grow beards choose to not shave for the entirety of the playoffs. they all believe it brings good luck or something. but you are very, very against it.
not that seth doesn't look hot with a beard because he totally does. but because seth has a habit. your boyfriend is very much a giver. he absolutely loves going down on you. no matter what time of day or night it is, how tired he is after a game, or if he has practice in like ten minutes; he's going to be between your thighs.
the beard does not allow him to do that. it's not that he couldn't do it; there's no rule against it or anything from the team. but you. you absolutely hate him going down on you when he has the beard. it's scratchy. it burns your thighs. it does not feel good against your sensitive pussy.
so, you'd made it a thing that seth doesn't get to go down on you until after the hurricanes were eliminated. but then they kept winning which prolonged it even more. but now they've won the cup, and there really is just one thing seth wants more than that.
you'd partied with the group for a bit. you are in vegas after all. but then you wanted to go back to your hotel room, and seth was more than eager to come with you. it didn't even register for you that he wants this right now.
he barely even kissed you when you got back to your shared hotel room before going into the bathroom, but it did leave you grimacing at the scratchy feeling of the playoff beard against your skin.
you headed to bed, turning the covers down and planning to settle in for the night. you didn't even look up when he came back in from the bathroom. not until he called out your name.
you looked up, and holy fuck. no more beard. he shaved it. you hadn't even registered the soft buzzing sound of the razor coming from the bathroom, honestly too tired from all the celebrating.
seth grinned, already slowly moving towards you, reaching for the bed sheets.
'pull those sheets down and spread those legs for me. let me see my pretty pussy.' he said.
you laughed, but he also didn't have to tell you twice. you'd barely even pushed the sheets away from you before he was actually hauling them off of the bed entirely.
then he was almost faceplanting onto the bed and making his way up in between your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders. normally, he'd tease. he'd press featherlight kisses along the insides of your thighs, and even down to your knees before he would even think of putting his mouth on your pussy because he likes getting you impatient and you tugging on his hair to pull him towards where you want him.
but not tonight. not when it's been over two full months since he's gotten to taste you, gotten his mouth on you, gotten to eat his favourite meal. he could feast on you for hours if you let him, and those are his full intentions for tonight. he's not gonna stop until you're screaming his name and the entire team knows what the two of you were doing.
he placed his mouth on you right away, licking one long and deep stripe from your slit to your clit and back again with his tongue. you actually jolted. you haven't felt anything like this in a while now. and you know it's your own fault, so you're gonna be in for it.
your thighs instinctively tried to close around seth's head, but he kept them spread open for him.
'missed this.' he whispered against you, sucking your clit into his mouth.
he swirled his tongue around your swollen bud, then dipped back down to your entrance and swirled his tongue around there and then back to your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.
he buried his face in you, dragging his tongue back and forth across your bundle of nerves. he pinned your hips down with one hand, keeping your thighs bracketing his head, and then slid two fingers into your entrance so that he could keep his mouth on your clit.
he grinned against you when your hand finally made its way down and into his hair, tugging on the strands to push him closer to your core. which he immediately gave into, moaning at the taste of you that he hasn't gotten in so long.
'seth...' you moaned out.
you hadn't gotten off from this in so long. you're already so close. and seth can tell. so he tightened his grip on you and started licking and sucking at your clit harder, and fingering you faster.
you came with a cry of his name that was so loud guaranteed the entire hotel floor heard it. but he didn't stop licking you through it. even when your thighs tried to close and you tried to push him away, he kept going.
'gotta make up for lost time, baby.' he whispered against you before diving back in.
you're going to be here for a long night. not that you're complaining.
request -> uhhhhh like yk the cassidy gray thing from rhe okyimpics like that but instead of a skiier she does halfpipe snowboarding and they fall in love
Seth Jarvis Masterlist
goodolcanadianboys and 4 others tagged you in a post.
The notification pops across your screen, lighting up your phone in the midst of the night. You furrow your brows in confusion, hesitating for a quick second before finally caving and clicking on the notification. It brings you to a picture of a group of men, all wearing Canadian hockey jerseys, you think the number on the sleeve is the number 24, but you can’t be sure. In the middle of the group stands an average height man with black hair and a scruffy goatee. Seth Jarvis. After you’re done assessing the photo you glance at the caption, @yourusername wanna play some 1v1 w/ @sethjarvis_??
You laugh, not believing that they actually saw your TikTok video that you posted a few days ago. The video was just you talking about how other Olympic athletes, like Seth Jarvis, had much better perks than you did. You made the video as a pure joke, just something for a laugh, but now that Seth and his group of friends has seen it, god, you don’t even know what to do. You click on the comments, deciding to write one for yourself.
@sethjarvis_ @goodolcanadiansboys name a time and place and I’ll be there😉
Yeah, you think to yourself, this is the start of something great.
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The air is chilly but the view is incredible. The gorgeous Milan structures that surround you are like nothing you’ve ever seen before. The city is quiet, the wind has a bite to it but you can hardly feel it through your thick winter coat, gifted to you by Lululemon and Team Canada. The sound of boisterous laughter and chaos starts to fill the air as a group of young men walk towards you, each of them adorning their Seth Jarvis jerseys. One by one they each spot you, offering you a wave of their hand and a smile before jogging to come meet you. You shake each of their hands as they introduce themselves, the last one being Seth himself. He has a shy look across his face as he grips your hand in his, your eyes lock and you can’t bring yourself to look away.
“Hi.” Seth says softly, as if you’re the only one that can hear him. “Hi.” You say back, hand still shaking his. You hear someone behind you clear their throat which makes you and Seth jump apart, heat rising onto your cheeks as you face the group now known as The Good Ol Canadian Boys. “Is it our turn to stare into your eyes like your long lost love now?” That breaks the ice as you fall into a series of giggles, your embarrassment now forgotten. “Aw lay off, would ya?” Seth drawls, punching one of them on his shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout them.” Seth rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed about his friend's words.
“It’s okay Seth. Now, who's ready to film the TikTok cause I have some great ideas!”
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You stand at the top of the slope with your snowboard attached to your feet and all your winter gear is piled on top of you. You pull your goggles down over your eyes as you shift your weight and slide down the slope. The wind bites your exposed face as you fly down the snowy halfpipe, pulling out all your tricks, trying your hardest to win the gold medal. You finish your last trick and land it perfectly, skidding to a stop in front of the cameras and Canada’s own, Seth Jarvis.
Seth watches as you celebrate, your smile is big and bright as you wave to the crowd, the sound of Canadian fans cheering in the back. Seth cheers and claps along with the crowd, his eyes never leave yours. They don’t leave yours even when you make eye contact with him. They don’t stray when he notices you unbuckle your board and start to run over. His eyes only leave yours when you press your lips to his, his wide eyes quickly closing as the bliss from your kiss takes over his body.
request from @yauchfilms.... cappuccino with cold foam for SJ24: "can you include the phrase "kitty tickler" at least once?"
hell yes i can brother🦅
You’re perched on the bed in nothing but a towel, watching Seth take a razor to his face. The boys recently got knocked out of the playoffs and Seth finally grew tired of his playoff beard this morning when cereal dripped into it for what he swore would be the last time.
You’re mourning the scruffy, bushy, dark hair and you won’t pretend you aren’t. Every time Seth looks over and sees you pouting, he starts to giggle and walks over to plant a kiss on your lips. He turns to you a lot, your presence distracting him from his routine. Usually he shaves after practice, when you’re already at work. He must have really hated the beard, since he’s thrown his whole routine out of whack just to get rid of it.
“Babe, check it out,” Seth says, rinsing his razor and shaking it out before wiping extra shaving cream from his chin. He smiles wide, showing off his crooked teeth. His eyes crinkle and he models both sides of his face for you. “Mutton chops!”
You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly at Seth’s new look. “Are you going to keep that?”
“Aww, you don’t like it,” Seth groans, wandering over to you and pawing at your towel.
You laugh louder, clutching your towel to prevent him from revealing your body. “It would take a lot of getting used to.”
Seth grins and pecks your lips before pulling back and walking back to the bathroom. “I would’ve killed in Wolverine.”
You choke on your spit, coughing. “You want to be Wolverine?”
“Dude, I would make a career out of real-life Fruit Ninja if I had claws like him,” Seth says. “The mutton chops are just a perk.”
“Get rid of them, Seth. It’s not your look, babe.”
He whines, slumping his shoulders and frowning at you. It’s all an act, which you know, so you stare at him with a raised brow and a knowing smile. Seth breaks first, picking up his razor and lifting it to his face. He shaves the sides away, leaving a handlebar mustache on his face.
Seth turns to you again, lifting his arms and flexing. “Hulk Hogan?” he asks.
“Raging racist,” you reply with a sad nod. “It’s always the icons that end up evil.”
“Can’t be a king without war crimes,” Seth sighs, feigning sadness. You know he’s pretending because of how quickly he raises the razor and shaves the legs of his mustache away. He leaves his normal stache intact, placing the razor on the sink and rinsing his face to get rid of any lingering pieces of hair. He then joins you on the bed, covering you with his body.
You fit your thumb in the divot of his chin, feeling the smooth skin that is rarely bare. Seth is a goatee guy, which you like, but his stache is your favorite type of facial hair.
“Kept the kitty tickler for my girl,” Seth tells you, his clumsy fingers going through your hair like a wide-toothed comb.
“The kitty tickler?” you demand, jaw dropping incredulously. “What?”
“Yeah,” Seth says, brushing your shock off. He brushes his thumb and index finger over his mustache, going from the middle to the ends. “You know…” He taps your mound over the towel, then wiggles his fingers, sticking his tongue out flat before speaking. “Kitty… tickler.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” you chortle, smiling widely.
Seth takes offense, drawing his eyebrows together. “I’m not,” he whines. He tugs at your towel. “Do you need me to remind you?”
“I think I do, actually,” you say. “I’m really intrigued by this terminology.”
“Baby,” Seth scoffs with a frown. He slides off the bed and adjusts you so you’re laying flat, knees bent over the edge of the mattress. “The kitty tickler’s a machine. It’s not just a name. Don’t belittle it like that.”
“Oh, my bad,” you reply sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to offend the operator of the machine.”
“Well, it’s too late now,” Seth says. “Now I’ve gotta show you how the kitty tickler navigates the bush.”
“Oh my God, fuck off,” you reproach, kicking Seth’s shoulder.
Seth giggles to himself and palms your thighs, spreading them apart. “Gonna show you how I mow,” Seth adds before disappearing tongue-first beneath your towel, his enthusiasm and vigor changing your mindset from incredulous to pleasure-ridden.
