nhl imagines.

42. PIERRE-LUC DUBOIS | blue jackets

an: this includes talk about eating disorders, if you're sensitive to this in any way i suggest you don't read this.

You were tired. Tired of the hate, tired of the loneliness. And most of all, tired of your weight. You had tried multiple diets and fitness regimes but to no success. In the last six months, you had taken a turn for the worst.

You knew some people vomited everything they ate. You never wanted to be that person, but when times are tough, you decide enough is enough.

Looking in the mirror, you took in your sad, dark eyes and thinning hair as you collected a spoon and some lemonade. This had become your natural thoughts that happened automatically after eating anything.

It helped, in some ways, that Pierre was on a road trip. He was your best friend who you were rooming with before he left. Now, you're lucky to FaceTime him everyday.

Sighing, you lower yourself onto your knees in front of the toilet, spoon in hand. Opening your mouth, you squeeze your eyes shut and shove it as far as you can. Immediately, you start gagging and felt the bike rise in your throats and stomach contracting.

Just as you were about to vomit, you heard a knock at the door. Your head jerks up in surprise and you quickly pull out the end of the spoon from your throat.

"Y/N! It's me, Pierre-Luc! I'm home!" a voice booms from downstairs. You scramble to your feet and quickly compose yourself, giving a fake smile for practice in the mirror.

"Pierre! You're home!" you yell out, voice still scratchy from the previous activities. Quickly clearing your throat, you run down the stairs, lightheaded from days of no food. You nearly trip on he last step but an arm grabs you around the waist to prevent you from falling.

"Woah, Y/N, slow do- hey, have you been losing weight?" his eyebrows furrow in concern and he looks you up and down. You smile, happy that someone noticed your weight loss.

"Yeah! I went on a great diet and lost a few pounds that needed to come off. You know, baby fat." you nervously laughed it off.

Pierre grabbed your waist and frowned even further, "This isn't a few pounds, Y/N/N..."

"Don't worry! I'm all good!" Lips quivering, you turned your head away, hiding the fact that you were nearly in tears.

Pierre grabbed your chin roughly and forced you to look into his eyes.

"No, you're not." he simply said, gruffing. His eyes widened as he looked over your bony shoulders, which had been uncovered due to his handling. "What the hell Y/N?!! Have you been starving yourself?!!! This doesn't just naturally happen in two weeks!"

"U-um, no, of course n-n-not." you nervously averted your eyes, chewing your lip. You gasped as he roughly took hold of the hem of your shirt and brought it over your head.

"Pierre! What are you doing?! Stop! Give that back!" you desperately tried to grab the shirt out of his hands as his eyes scanned your prominent ribs and showing hips.

"Why?" he asked softly. "You were never even close to being considered fat."

"The hate, Pierre! Do you think it's easy being the best friend of an NHL Superstar, especially when you're ugly, depressed, fa-" Pierre cut you off with his lips against yours. Gasping softly, you felt Pierre's tongue entering your mouth. Slowly, you started to kiss back and soon you two were panting softly, forehead against forehead.

"You wouldn't stop lying." he whispered softly, staring into your eyes.

"Bullshit, Dubois."

an: part two?