TMD; The Mighty Ducks; Preferences and Imagines

𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤

𝔾𝕦𝕪 𝔾𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕖

You slip into his well-worn flannel shirt, the fabric soft against your skin. The sleeves are a little too long, and you roll them up, giving the shirt a casual, slightly oversized look. The scent of his cologne lingers on the fabric, wrapping you in a sense of familiarity and warmth.

As you step out of the bedroom, you find Guy engrossed in a book on the couch. He glances up as you enter the room, his eyes widening in surprise. A grin slowly spreads across his face, and he closes the book, setting it aside.

"Well, look at you," he says, his voice a mixture of amusement and affection. "Rocking my shirt, I see."

You offer a shy smile, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I hope you don't mind. It just looked so comfy."

"Mind?" he chuckles, getting up from the couch and walking over to you. "Are you kidding? You look amazing."

You feel a flush of warmth creep into your cheeks, his words washing over you like a gentle caress. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the flannel.

"Besides," he continues, his tone playful, "I've always thought you'd look even better in my clothes than I do."

You playfully roll your eyes, swatting at his hand. "You're biased."

He grins, capturing your hand in his and pulling you closer. "Maybe. But I think I have excellent taste."

You can't help but laugh, the tension melting away as he wraps his arms around you. His shirt envelops you in a comforting embrace, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

"You know," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, "there's a rule when you wear someone else's clothes."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? And what's that?"

He pulls back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You owe them a kiss."

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It's sweet and tender, a silent exchange of affection that leaves you feeling breathless.

As he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close. "Consider that your payment for borrowing my shirt."

You grin, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I think I got the better end of the deal."

He chuckles, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek. "Maybe we both did."

In that moment, wrapped in his flannel and held in his arms, you realize that it's not just the clothes that make you feel close to him, but the shared moments, the laughter, and the simple gestures of love that truly matter.

 𝔸𝕕𝕒𝕞 𝔹𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤

You slide into his worn-out denim jacket, the fabric draping over your shoulders in a comfortable yet slightly oversized embrace. The faint scent of his cologne dances in the air around you, evoking memories of shared moments and stolen kisses. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you step into the living room, Adam, your boyfriend, looks up from his laptop, his eyes widening in pleasant surprise. A grin stretches across his face, and he sets aside his work, his attention fully captivated by your appearance.

"Well, well, well," he says with a chuckle, "look who's raiding my closet again."

You strike a pose, feigning nonchalance. "What can I say? Your clothes are just so much cozier than mine."