#Brock Boeser fic

[bedsyandco]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

🫧 — {fem!bsf!reader x dad!brock boeser}

🫧 — my first time writing for brock!! I hope you like it, as always feedback is appreciated !!

🫧 — in which your Brock’s best friend and the lines are blurry because you act like more both to him and his son.

🫧 — content: sfw, a little person, fluff

🫧 — wc: 2.35K

You were staring out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass of your coffee shop. The place was buzzing with people only minutes earlier, everyone wanting a hot drink to shield them from the stretch of bad weather that impacted the city these last few days, although that’s quite normal this time of the year. The buzz had died down and you were grateful since you just cleaned the floor, and didn’t look forward to having to do it again if someone else entered through the door with their wet shoes, the welcome mat at the entrance seeming to not do its job very effectively.

Your attention quickly shifted when you heard your phone ring and grabbed it out of your back pocket, heart beating a little faster when you saw who was calling.

“Vancouver Academy Preschool”

You had spent hours teasing Brock about how uptight this school sounded. It was preschool for crying out loud, and both you and Brock went to public school and turned out just fine, but he wasn’t budging. Only the very best for his boy. You didn’t feel a single trace of amusement seeing the name now though, only anxious as to why they could be calling.

“Good Afternoon, is this Brooks’ mom, YN speaking?” a woman's voice echoes over the speaker.

“Uh- that’s me but I’m not-”

“Oh thank goodness, we weren’t able to get in contact with his father, I’m glad I could at least reach one of his parents.” she continues, interrupting you before you could correct her that you weren’t Brooks’ mom. Brock was still at the rink, that’s probably why he wasn’t answering. “I’m Brooks’ teacher and I’m calling because there was an accident at school today and we were wondering if you would be able to come pick Brooks up from school?”

Your throat constricts a little at what she's saying, not being able to comprehend the words Brooks and accident in one sentence. “An accident? What accident? Is he hurt?” you ask frantically, questions flying one after the other.

“He’s perfectly fine ma’am. He had a little fall and bumped his head. There was a little scratch but we had our school nurse clean it up and check him out, but we thought since there were only a few hours left of school anyway and he seemed a bit upset, it may be better if he just went home for the day.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, seeing that it was only noon. You had another four hours to work at most, but you also knew that Brock probably wasn’t going to see the school’s messages before then and you couldn’t leave Brooks at school until then. The thought of him hurt and upset was enough to make you remove the apron from your waist and say, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Sounds serious,” you hear from your left seeing Lydia, one of your waitresses standing there.

“It was Brooks’ school. I need to go pick him up. I know it was your day to leave early but do you think you can stay until closing time? If you really can’t we’ll just close up early today,” you ramble, moving to grab your coat and searching for your keys.

“Of course, don’t even worry about it, I’ll close up.” she says

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t even try to apologise. You do what you need to for your kids, I get that.” and she did. Having two kids of her own.

“I know but he’s not even really mine. Not biologically at least. It’s not the same and I know this was your Friday to leave early,” you say remorsefully.

“Stop that. He’s yours in every way that matters. If I’ve ever seen anyone be a mom to that little boy, it’s you.” she says and your eyes sting a little and you have to blink up at the ceiling for a minute to stop them from falling.

“Thank you. I owe you one, I’ll see you Monday?” you ask and make your way out the door when she nods.

How you ended up in this situation, you honestly had no idea. It hadn’t been your intention to end up having your name registered as a parental contact. But you did feel an immense sense of warmth that Brock trusted you enough to do it.

Brock had been your friend for many years, and when Brooks came into the world, he only brought you closer. You would have never wished for Brooks’ mom to abandon him and Brock, and you would forever hold resentment in your heart for her because of that, but it did create a hole in their lives that you had somehow filled.

When you pull into the parking lot at Brooks’ school, you clench the steering wheel tightly and let out a big breath, releasing all the confusing thoughts about your role in Brooks’ life and the confusing relationship you had with his father. One day maybe you’d address those thoughts, but today isn’t that day.

You step out of the car, pulling your coat tighter around you to shield from the cold and take a little jog up to the front entrance. The receptionist immediately glanced up when you entered and sent you a quick smile.

“Hi I’m here to pick up Brooks Boeser,” you say and her eyes widened significantly, looking a lot more interested when she heard that last name and called through to the classroom. That almost would have been amusing had you not been preoccupied by your nerves about Brooks. You knew Brock paid a lot of big donations and checks that ensured him and Brooks were treated well here, and it looked like that treatment extended to you.

A door buzzes open and through comes Brooks, his hands tightly clasped on the straps of his backpack, his feet shuffling against the ground.

His eyes were red, cheeks flushed, a little bandaid on his forehead where you assumed the little scratch was. As he neared you his eyes teared up and the bottom lip started to wobble.

“Yn!” he yells, picking up his pace when he sees you and tripping into your legs, wrapping his arms around them.

“Oh my little love, did you get hurt?” You ask bending down and pushing his hair away from his forehead and gently running your fingers over the bandaid, as he nods.

“What exactly happened?” you ask his teacher who was only standing a few feet away observing the interaction.

“Brooks was playing outside with a friend and when he came back inside his shoes were wet and he ran, slipped and fell. He hit his head against a table and there’s a little scrape but as I said on the phone our nurse checked him out and he seems to be just fine. I can contact the nurse to talk with you if you’d like” the teacher says 

“That won’t be necessary, I trust that everything was handled as it should be,” you say in a tone suggesting that anything else would be ridiculous since Brock spends so much money on this school.

“Brooks was so excited when he found out his mom was coming to get him,” his teacher redirects the conversation and you smile tightly at her, that word causing your throat to squeeze tightly.

You squeeze Brooks tightly, the little boy still clinging to you as if his life depended on it. You pick him up, throwing his bag over your shoulder and making your way to the door when the teacher holds it open for you.

“Thank you,” you say politely and she smiles back at you.

“Have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday Brooks,” she says as you make your way to your car.

When Brooks is tightly secured in his car seat and you’ve let the car warm up a bit, you make your way to the arena.

“Wanna go visit daddy at work?” you ask Brooks, reaching back and squeezing his foot when you reach a red light.

“Yes!” he yells and you smile at his excitement.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” you say, focusing your attention back on the road.

“Happy to see you too,” Brooks replies and you glance at him in the mirror seeing a teasing little smile on that face.

“You think so?” you ask and he nods

“Uncle Petey told dad he’s happiest when he sees you,” Brooks says matter of factly

“Have you been listening to your dad’s conversations again?” you ask and he smiles guiltily

“No. They thought I was sleeping,” he admits softly and you smile, shaking your head at him. He’s sneaky. 

“Do you love my daddy?” Brooks asks and you swallow thickly thinking about it for a second. You knew Brooks was going to be asking about your friendship with his dad sooner or later, you’d just hoped it was later and that Brock was the one being asked.

You didn’t know how to say it without giving Brooks the wrong idea, and you definitely didn’t need him running back to his dad and telling him about your feelings for him. You weren’t entirely sure Brock was over what happened with Brooks’ mom. You didn’t think he was in love with her, but the way she just left and abandoned both of them still had an effect on Brock. He still hadn’t gone back to dating even after all these years. 

“Of course I love your dad. He’s my best friend in the whole world.” you tell him and he smiles happily.

“Do you think my dad is pretty?” Brooks asks curiously 

“He’s very pretty, just like you,” you say to Brock’s mini-me.

“My dad thinks you’re pretty too. He told uncle Quinny while you were making noodles,” Brooks says, referring to a few days ago when you cooked pasta for Brock and a few guys at his place.

“Are you two going to get married?” Brooks asks and you nearly swerve off the road.

“What made you have that idea?” you ask more calmly than you feel

“A girl in my class said that if two people love each other and think they’re pretty, they get married,” Brooks explains

“It’s a bit more complicated than that bud,” you say gently, relieved as you finally pull up to the arena.

You walk into the arena, Brooks’ hand clasped tightly in yours and wait in a little room you were directed to while someone called for Brock. You were sitting on a couch, Brooks cuddled up in your lap when Brock finally entered the room, closing the door behind him. Brock observed the two of you for a second, a strange emotion clouding his face. 

“Dad! Look, I have a scratch on my head!” he says as you stand up and walk towards Brock, Brooks still on your hip. 

Brock’s panicked eyes find yours before brushing Brooks’ hair away so he could inspect the little scratch more carefully, his other hand falls to your waist, pulling both of you close.

“He had a little fall, scraped his head, he’s okay. I took care of it,” you reassure him, and Brock’s shoulders relax a little bit.

Brock nods, pressing a kiss to Brooks’ forehead before moving to kiss your cheek, and your breath hitches at the intimate gesture. Brock had always been affectionate but lately he’s been doing a lot more often and openly. 

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff, I’ll be back in a sec. Do you need anything?” Brock asks, his hand caressing the skin at your waist lightly.

“No, we’re fine. Go finish up,” you say and he smiles, giving you both a peck again before leaving the room again. 

Later that day when you’ve got Brooks passed out in his bed, Brock joins you in the living room taking a seat on the couch, sitting as close to you as he can without actually touching you.

Brock leans his head back, letting out a trembling breath. 

“He’s okay Brock. It’s just a little scratch. You know that if I suspected he wasn’t okay I would’ve taken him to-”

“I know. It’s just that you shouldn’t have to. It’s my job to take care of him and I wasn’t there.” Brock says and you sigh, moving even close to him.

“Look at me,” you insist softly, and he does, his gaze so incredibly soft and fond it makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst.

“You’re a great dad Brock. You love that little boy so much, and he knows it. You’re doing the best that you can and it’s okay to ask for help sometimes.” you say and his hand falls to your upper thigh, caressing it softly.

“It’s not fair to you,” he argues

“I love that little guy and there’s nothing I love more than taking care of him. Of both of you.” you say and Brock looks at you for a moment.

“I love you,” he confesses and you can feel a ball forming in your throat.

“I love you too,” you reply and Brock shakes his head.

“No, I love you. I’m in love with you. I always have been” 

“Brock-”

“I can never bring myself to regret being with Brooks’ mom. You weren’t available back then and I was convinced you never would be, but somehow your ex managed to mess it up and you were single and I was so happy because I was finally gonna get my shot. And then Brooks happened and I love that kid to death, so I could never ever regret it, but it’s always been you.” he says softly, framing your face with both hands and kissing you softly. 

“This family isn’t complete without you. I hope you know that.” Brock says, gently caressing your face when he pulls away. 

“Will you stay the night?” he asks and you smile.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you answer, and a few weeks later all your things were in that house, knowing you were never leaving again. 

#brock boeser fic #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser x yn

[fallinallincurls]

in picture frames, in all my dreams, you’re the one i want

this is my entry for @wyattjohnston 's winter fic exchange 2k24!! i wrote this fic for the lovely @laurenairay and i hope you love it so much! i had the best time writing this one (which means there will probably be more brock fics in the future). and shoutout to @tonyspep for bouncing ideas around with me as always!

i also made a playlist for this fic as well if you'd like to check it out!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 3.8k+

~~~~~

This was not supposed to happen. You were supposed to be on a plane back to Minnesota right now so you would be home in time for Christmas. But when you arrived at the airport earlier, the board of departures were full of canceled flights including yours. And when you brought your dilemma to the customer service desk, they informed you that all flights out of Vancouver were either booked or canceled through the 26th. The day after Christmas.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. Frantically knocking on your best friend’s front door and trying to hold back the overwhelming urge to cry.

“Come on, come on, come on.” You mutter to yourself, knocking one more time in hopes that the one person you want to see right now will answer.

At that very moment, the door swings open to reveal a cozy but sleepy looking Brock. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats with an old Canucks t-shirt. His blonde hair is tousled but still somehow looks perfect and his blue eyes light up at the sight of you. You love seeing him like this, so soft and relaxed. The Brock that the media and fans don’t know, but you do. 

“Uh, hi. Again.” You say quietly while offering a watery smile.

“Y/N?” Brock asks, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You don’t blame him, it is only six in the morning. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you going home today?”

“Well yeah, but the insane snow storm had other plans. My flight was canceled and I can’t get anything until after Christmas. So I’m kind of stuck here.”

“A week of me wasn’t enough for you?” He teases, that familiar smile brightening up his face. You just shrug in response, your lips just barely tipping up at his playfulness.

Without saying another word, Brock pulls you into his arms for the tightest hug. It takes everything in you not to sob against his sturdy chest as the warmth and comfort he always carries surrounds you.

“I’m going to miss Christmas.” The terrifying admission tumbles from your lips as tears start falling. You’ve never missed a Christmas at home with your family and you can’t imagine spending the magical day stranded halfway across the continent. 

“No, you’re not.” Brock murmurs, smoothing your hair down as he holds you. The small gesture immediately makes you feel more at ease. It’s something only he knows that will help calm you down when you’re upset. Before you protest, Brock makes a split second decision. “You’re going to spend Christmas here, with me. We’re going to celebrate Christmas together. And you can stay here since all the hotels are probably booked or mad expensive, it’s just easier.”

It takes a moment for Brock’s words to register in your mind, but when they do, your heart swells. Of course he would welcome you in for a holiday that you weren’t supposed to spend with him. He would do anything for you and he’s been that way since you were kids. But right now, you’re more grateful than ever for his kindness.

“Are you sure? I was only supposed to visit you for a week.” You ask faintly, voicing the only worry that surfaced at his suggestion. 

When the University of Minnesota, the school that you’re currently a professor at, announced the dates of winter break, you immediately booked a flight out to Vancouver to spend some much needed time with your best friend. It’s tough to see Brock during the season because classes are also in session and schedules almost never line up. But you weren’t letting this opportunity pass by. The past week has been spent catching up and doing everything that was physically possible together. You couldn’t have been happier you made the trip until the debacle this morning put a damper on the unbelievable happiness you’ve been feeling since you arrived in Vancouver. 

“And the weather said a week wasn’t long enough.” Brock says, his tone of voice telling you there was no room for arguments. “I won’t let you spend Christmas alone so we’re doing this, okay? Plus, I don’t think Coolie and Milo will mind having you around for a few more days. You know how much they love you.”

“The dogs aren’t the only ones who love me.” Brock smiles at your playful comment and can’t help but chuckle at the truth of the oblivious statement. The full extent of his feelings for you that he’s been hiding for years is unknown to everyone but himself. And maybe Quinn and Petey. But he won’t admit how he feels about you until he knows the moment’s right, until maybe there’s a chance you feel the same way.

So he shrugs nonchalantly and lets a laugh slip past his lips while ignoring the way his heart races just from looking at you. Before he can say anything in response, you’re surging forward to hug him again.

“Thank you so much, really. It means the world to me. You have no idea.”

“You know I’d do anything for you.” Brock admits, honesty seeping through each word. “Besides, spending Christmas with you just made my holiday a lot more exciting.” 

“Please,” You roll your eyes in response, but the softest smile blossoms across your lips and the insane amount of anxiety that was consuming you a few minutes ago has already started to dissipate.

“C’mon,” Brock starts, pulling you through the door and over the threshold of his apartment. “You’re probably exhausted so let’s get you a nap and we’ll go from there.”

There’s no resistance as he leads you to his bedroom, hands you one of his t-shirts and tells you it’ll all be okay. Before you know it, you’re under the blankets, wrapped up in the warmth and coziness of Brock’s bed, drifting off to a much needed sleep.

When you wake up a few hours later, well rested and feeling much better, you find yourself squished between two large dogs. A giggle slips past your lips at the sight.

“Hey guys!” You exclaim, not wasting a second to give both Coolie and Milo some pets. “Lucky you, I’ll be here for a couple more days which means you’ll get plenty of extra snacks.”

“No, they won’t!” Brock calls from somewhere in the apartment, making a laugh bubble up in your throat. Even if your Christmas isn’t going to go as you had planned, you’re glad that you’ll be spending it with your favorite person in the world. 

The dogs race ahead of you to find Brock as you start making your way down the hallway. Although you’ve spent a decent amount of time in Brock’s apartment over your weeklong visit, you take a few extra seconds to look over the collection of pictures he has hanging on the wall throughout the hallway. Photos of him with his family, smiling with teammates, namely Petey and Quinn who you know have become his best friends, views from his many trips to different places around the world and of course, snapshots of you and him together. 

A smile blossoms on your face as you look over the memories frozen in time in each photo, laughing to yourself at the ridiculous ones Brock has hanging up that feature his teammates and you. But just before you’re about to head down the stairs to find him, one picture catches your eye. You don’t know how you missed it over the last week, but you must have.

Because staring back at you are little versions of you and Brock, flashing big, beaming grins at the camera in front of the sign to the summer camp you both attended for years. That’s how the two of you met and you remember looking forward to the summer just because it meant seeing and spending time with Brock. Even though you both lived in Minnesota, it wasn’t until you were older that you were able to communicate outside penpal letters sent in the mail and the ninety days you spent together on the campground where you both formed memories that will last a lifetime.

You couldn’t have been more than seven in the photo and it’s clear that both of you are happier than ever. That feeling is still present today whenever you’re with Brock, it’s nestled deep within your heart like it belongs there forever and you’ve carried it around for most of your life. It only took you years after he already had moved to Vancouver to realize that happiness can often be mistaken for love. 

Shoving those thoughts away, you bound down the stairs to meet your best friend again. There’s a new pep in your step as you’re determined to make the most of every second this Christmas even if it’s not what you expected. You’re here with Brock which is all you could ask for.

A gentle smile is already on your lips when you get to the bottom floor, but you halt almost immediately when you see the scene in front of you. Coolie and Milo are wearing the cutest doggie holiday sweaters and Brock is softly grinning while leaning against the kitchen counter which is full of a wide variety of baking ingredients. And when your eyes look over the living room, you notice a box labeled “ornaments” sitting atop the coffee table, undoubtedly full of all of the beautiful ornaments that were carefully hanging from the branches of Brock’s Christmas tree just hours ago. 

“What is-”

“I told you we were celebrating Christmas and we’re going to do it the right way.” Brock simply explains, blue eyes twinkling with joy and you see a flicker of nervousness there too. Like he isn’t sure if you like the gesture.

“Brock,” You breathe out, his name just above a whisper. 

“I know you love decorating the tree on Christmas Eve so I just took down the ornaments so we can do it together. And your family always bakes cookies the night before Christmas too and I surprisingly already had most of what we needed for the recipes.”

There aren’t enough words to properly show the gratitude, the love, that’s swelling in your chest so you just cross the room and wrap your arms around him in the tightest embrace. Brock immediately responds, pulling you even closer to him, and for a moment everything feels right. 

“Thank you,” The words are quiet, but Brock hears them and presses a delicate kiss to the top of your head. You pray he doesn’t feel the way your heart skips a beat at the sweet action and he must not because he pulls away with a big smile and a hint of mischief mixed with something else you can’t quite place evident in his eyes.

“Of course, you deserve nothing less. What do you want to do first?” He asks, ready to jump into either activity. But it’s right then that everything clicks.

“Wait, you went out in the snow to get the rest of the ingredients we needed?”

“Well, yeah, it’s not too bad. Compared to the snow we used to get at home, this is like nothing.”

“But it’s cold! And how did you get the recipes for my favorite Christmas cookies without-” You trail off, the realization setting in at the same moment Brock speaks up to confirm your suspicions.

“I called your mom. She was more than happy to share the recipes with me when I explained what I was up to. That was the easiest part actually!” 

If you weren’t already head over heels in love with him already, this moment would’ve sealed the deal. You can’t believe he went through all this trouble just to make the holiday special when you weren’t even supposed to be here in the first place. Nothing but adoration rushes through your veins and you can feel the blush creeping into your cheeks. Without hesitating, you lean up to kiss his cheek as yet another silent thank you and his skin almost immediately turns pink. 

“Alright, let’s do this, yeah?” He asks, distracting you from his reaction to the little gesture the two of you have been doing since you were younger and pulling you into the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for Christmas music to be turned on, filling the air with even more of a festive feeling. Brock makes sure your apron is tied on, just like you do for his, and then you’re off baking. You teach Brock all the techniques you’ve learned over the years from making these recipes and you get the pleasure of seeing him so free and happy.

You want to see him like this for the rest of your life. A big smile on his face, eyes crinkled in happiness and no sign of any stress hanging over him.

“What are we going to do with all these cookies?” The question falls off your lips after Brock slides the last batch into the oven. 

“Easy. You’ll take some back home with you so your mom can see how much of an awesome job I did and the rest I’ll give to the team. A lot of them won’t say no to homemade cookies even if it’s the middle of the season.” 

“If you say so,” You giggle, not being able to picture his teammates willingly accepting Christmas cookies when they’re in the middle of the best season the team has had in a long time. But you don’t argue, just set aside the best looking cookies that you and Brock decorated for Quinn and Petey, and sneak one to Coolie and Milo too, before getting the kitchen back in order.

After everything is cleaned up so the kitchen doesn’t look like a total disaster anymore and you both enjoy the takeout that Brock ordered for dinner, no time is wasted in moving to the living room to decorate the Christmas tree.

“Okay, where do we start?” You contemplate, gently placing your full mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table while surveying the tree glittering in the corner of the room. 

“I forgot how seriously you take decorating for the holidays.” Brock chuckles, opening the box that he put all the ornaments back in earlier. He didn’t really forget, in fact, he missed it more than anything. That’s more than half the reason he spent so much time taking every single bauble off the tree. Yes, he wanted to make sure Christmas was as magical for you as it would’ve been back home, but he also selfishly wanted to share this moment with you too.

And he’d be lying if he said his heart isn’t full to brim right now with what he knows is love. Not that you can tell or would ever know that.

“The tree is serious business!” You exclaim with a chuckle, watching as Brock carefully starts removing ornaments from the box one at a time. He hands you a simple, but gorgeous blue ball to hang up first.

Slowly, but surely, the two of you decorate the tree with the wide variety of ornaments Brock has. He tells you the stories behind the ones his teammates have gifted him, shares the laughter with you when he stumbles across one that has a picture of him as a toddler in the picture frame and recounts the memories of family or solo vacations whenever he hands you one that was clearly bought at a tourist shop. There’s a soft smile on Brock’s face that never disappears and you swear he keeps sneaking glances at you.  

The tree becomes more festive as each decoration once again finds a home on its branches and not for the first time today, you forget that this isn’t where you were meant to be for the holiday. But you’re kind of grateful for the snowstorm now. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten to do any of this with the man who you’ve wanted for years.

“It’s done!” You cheer with excitement when you place the last ornament on the tree. “We did a pretty good job. Don’t you think?” Stepping back to admire the beautiful work you both did, your shoulder bumps Brock’s and that familiar shock of warmth floods through your veins at the brief contact. 

“It’s the best Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.” Brock responds playfully, but there's a faint tone of seriousness evident in his voice. His eyes are glistening in the glow of the lights and you can’t deny how perfect he looks so cozy and joyful like this. 

A few seconds later, without you realizing, Brock slips away to put the box away until it was time to take all the holiday decorations down in a few weeks. But to his surprise, there is one last ornament sitting in the box that was somehow forgotten.

“Y/N,” Brock laughs, picking up the decoration. “We forgot one.”

“No way! What is it?” Nothing but curiosity and excitement is evident in your voice. You cross the room to Brock and lean into his side to see what the mystery ornament is.

And when you get a glimpse, your breath is stolen away. Because in Brock’s hand is a small photo of a grinning little boy and girl sitting together at a picnic table inside a picture frame made of colored popsicle sticks. The two words “best friends” are written in black marker across the bottom of the frame in a neat, but childish looking style of handwriting.

Recognition washes over you instantly.

“I made that,” You start, almost stunned as you look between the homemade ornament and Brock’s face.

“You did. Like decades ago.” Brock chuckles, the sound fills the room with happiness and light. He still remembers the day you gave him this little gift. It was the last day of summer camp and before you both said goodbye with a promise to see each other soon, you gave him the gift. For only being nine years old at the time, Brock thought it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. Plus, that way he had a little piece of you back home too.

Since then, he’s cherished this adorable, homemade ornament like nothing else. It always seemed a little silly to him, to hold onto a childhood craft, but seeing your reaction right now tells him it means just as much to you as it does to him.

“And you still have it. You kept it all this time?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why?” The question is gentle, but full of genuine interest. There’s a beat of comfortable silence as Brock battles with his thoughts for a moment. He knows this is it. This is the moment he finally tells you how he feels. All of the nerves and worries he had about confessing how his heart beats just for you falls away in mere seconds.

Your brows furrow at the strange look on his face. His blue eyes are full of an emotion you can’t place and the softest smile graces his lips. But more than anything, there’s a trace of clarity on display across his features. His gaze flicks down to your lips a few times before he speaks. 

“Because you’re my best friend.” Brock whispers, each word carrying more weight than ever before. “But I don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.” He admits, a weight lifting off his shoulders as the words hang in the air for a moment.

He doesn’t have to say anything else because you know what it is right then. He is in love. With you.

“And you’re my best friend, but I want us to be more too.” Brock’s face practically lights up at your response, knowing that you feel the same way he does. It almost feels like a dream that after years, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore if you have fallen for him too.

“Can I kiss you?” Brock asks with a gentle voice as one hand settles on your hip before pulling you in closer. “We did somehow end up under the mistletoe.” He points up to where the collection of leaves are hanging in the entryway you’re both standing under. You can’t help but laugh at the sight and nothing but pure elation fills your heart.

“Yes, please.” 

He cradles your cheek with one hand while the other stays on your hip, keeping you pressed against his body. You can’t help the smile that blossoms on your face before his lips catch yours in the softest, most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. The rough feel of his scruff against your smooth skin makes you giggle a little bit, which Brock responds to by deepening the kiss even more.

It’s absolutely perfect. You’ve dreamt of this exact moment more times than you’d like to admit, but it’s everything and more. And by the way Brock is holding you, it’s obvious he’s been waiting for this too.

When he reluctantly pulls away a few seconds later, there’s a new glimmer that you’ve never seen before in his bright blue eyes. He looks like the human form of sunshine right now and you can’t take it. You reach up to brush a lock of blonde hair back off of Brock’s forehead. He gives your hip a reassuring squeeze, a reminder that this is in fact real.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Brock murmurs, his smile just mere centimeters away from yours.

“I think I do.”

And without hesitation, you lean in to kiss him again. Once because it’s been a long night, twice because it’ll be alright, three times because you waited your whole life.

Before any fears or worries can creep in and ruin the moment, Brock wraps you up in a tight hug. Your head rests against his chest where you can hear his steady heartbeat.

“We’ll figure everything out. I promise.” He says calmly, somehow knowing what your next thought is going to be. “But it’s Christmas Eve and I don’t want to do anything else but enjoy being here with you.”

“I’ve never been so grateful for a snowstorm in my life.” You laugh, pure bliss humming through your body.

“Me either. Who would’ve thought that’s all it would’ve taken for this to finally happen?”

Later that night, when you’re snuggled up with Brock on the couch watching Home Alone while Coolie and Milo sleep nearby, you realize that you did in fact get to spend Christmas at home even though you didn’t make it back to Minnesota. Because Brock is home. Just being in his arms brings you the same kind of comfort and love you cherish so deeply.

Almost as if he can sense that you’re getting lost in your thoughts, Brock raises a brow in silent question when you look up at him. You just smile in response before leaning up to kiss his cheek which earns you a sweet grin.

“Merry Christmas, Brock.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Brock murmurs softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “So happy my Christmas wish came true this year.”

#brock boeser #the winter fic exchange 2k24 #brock boeser fic #brock boeser fics #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser blurb #brock boeser blurbs #brock boeser imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks #brock boeser fluff #hockey fic #hockey imagine

[wyattjohnston]

and i had silly dreams - brock boeser

summary: a series of weddings mean a series of run-ins with brock, and that means josie must confront some long held feelings.

word count: 3.2k

note: happy birthday @senditcolton!!! this is what i wrote for your birthday bingo and i hope you like it. i hope you get loads of wonderful fics to read, because you deserve them all <3

bingo squares: wedding season + 'it was always you' + free space + second chance romance + interrupted kiss

Josie had forgotten that he’d be there. She’d helped with sending the invitations, helped with the seating chart and had felt her heart skip a beat every time she saw his name. She still did a double take when she saw him at the reception.

Immediately noticing the double take, Courtney, the bride, asked in a high pitch, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is perfect,” Josie said, literally waving her off. “I forgot Brock was going to be here, is all.”

With all the subtlety that she was known for—none—Courtney whipped her head in the direction Josie had vaguely pointed at. Josie rolled her eyes but followed Courtney’s gaze to see Brock standing beside a table laughing raucously.

“He’s single.”

“Yeah,” Josie said, rolling her eyes. “That’s never been the problem.”

Courtney’s mouth opened and Josie knew she was ready to go off on a tangent about there never being a real problem. Luckily for Josie, Liam materialised to distract his bride and take her away to speak to his parents.

Their departure led to a brief reprieve for Josie who felt like she hadn’t stopped all day, or for the entire month leading up to the wedding. She had truly gone above and beyond—something that Courtney had been increasingly thankful about—and, while there was a quiet moment, she took her seat at the wedding party’s table and barely resisted dropping her head onto the table.

People approached her to check in, the other bridesmaids making sure everything was going to schedule and being redirected to the wedding planner, Rebecca, and her own parents making sure she wasn’t taking on more than she could handle. She absolutely was, but that wasn’t something she’d readily admit. Rebecca popping by was the last thing Josie wanted, because the updates she’d been getting all evening weren’t good.

She felt even more drained when she was left alone again, only interrupted by a waiter carrying a tray of champagne. Josie took two flutes.

It wasn’t a hardship to watch Courtney and Liam bounce around the room together, largely inseparable and overwhelmingly in love—they’d been together for so long that their marriage had slowly morphed into an inevitability and Josie was happy that she had a front row seat to it all.

Even if, every so often in her peripheral vision, there was someone she had to keep monitoring. That she could have done without.

Someone dropped into the empty bridesmaid’s seat beside her, and Josie’s breath hitched in her throat when she realised who it was. She may have forgotten that he’d be at the wedding, but she could never forget him.

She only looked at him out of the corner of her eye—he was like the sun, really, it was dangerous to look directly at him.

“You look stressed.”

Josie hummed in agreement, picking up her second champagne flute and saying, “It is my job to burden all the shit that Liam’s cousin is pulling and make sure that Court never hears about it.”

“And he’s pulling a lot of shit?”

“Literally hasn’t changed since high school.”

Brock’s laugh was low, and he didn’t sound at all shocked. Even having spent a couple of years not in school with said cousin—James, if she had to use his name—Brock was no stranger to the trouble that followed him around.

“Surely just kick him out,” Brock suggested.

“He’s got one more chance. I really don’t want to cause a fuss, right now Court and Liam have no idea, but the poor wedding planner is getting complaints from the staff that he’s being rude to them.”

Brock patted the table and Josie looked at him, then. It truly was dangerous because there was nothing she wouldn’t have done for him. So, when he smiled at her and asked if she wanted to go for a little walk outside to destress there was no chance she’d ever say no.

Despite the sweaty palms he gave her, and had given her for many years, being around Brock was easy. There was never any pressure, no expectations that ever came with him. At least no expectations coming from him, the expectations placed by other people were forever lingering.

The Country Club in Lakeville was the perfect place for a wedding—a fact that had held true for years, and would continue to for many more, Josie was sure—and the weather only made it more so. Despite the sun having set about an hour earlier, the temperature had held steady and, had it been any other wedding, Josie would have taken off her shoes and ran through the grass with her arms outstretched.

“Do you like being home?” Josie asked Brock when they stopped at a patio table.

“I like that it’s quieter here,” he admitted. “Vancouver’s great, but… Yeah. I like being home.”

They sat at the table, just staring over the course and into the night sky, with no knowledge of how long they’d been out there. Josie knew that she’d never be able to truly relax while she was waiting for James to do something, but it was nice.

Brock’s company was always welcome, his ability to find a topic and talk about it for any length of time had always impressed, and it was a welcome distraction even if it was only temporary.

Rebecca came to find her far too soon after they ventured outside, somehow looking even more frustrated than she had all night. James was hot on her heels, cursing up a very loud storm.

“She’s lying!” James shouted. Josie instinctively looked to Brock, her eye twitching.

“He’s now inappropriately touching the waitstaff.”

The eye twitch changed into a full grimace with an accompanying disgusted groan. James’ shouting got louder and angrier, that anger directed at Josie at the first sign that she didn’t believe him. Within a second of James taking a step forward to get in Josie’s face, Brock was standing. He didn’t raise his voice, nor did he sound particularly angry when he spoke.

“Time for you to go home, don’t you think?” Brock asked, so calm it was rather disturbing.

James stepped back but didn’t stop his yelling, trying to shout around Brock’s body to continue his tirade on Josie. Rebecca was long forgotten.

“It’s been ten fucking years and you’re still so fucking pussy whipped. She’s so fucking frigid she’s not going to sleep with you, dude, you don’t need to white knight.”

James’ words rolled through Josie’s head one by one, so slowly that she was only processing them one at a time. Until the meaning of what he’d said hit her, then her silence was because she had no idea how she could possibly respond.

Brock took care of it, though, clapping his hand down on James’ shoulder with a satisfying and deep thud, forcibly turning him around and saying, “Pretty sure your parents are looking for you.”

Rebecca stared at Josie wide eyed; Josie still didn’t know how she was supposed to have responded.

A few weeks passed and the next wedding popped up on Josie’s calendar—everyone she knew was getting married and it was the busiest summer she’d ever had. She had no responsibilities at any other wedding that summer, though, and as far as she knew there would be no sign of James at any of them, so she was letting her hair down.

Drunk. She was getting drunk.

Brock had also made an appearance which Josie hadn’t been expecting. Maybe she should have seeing as the Bride and Groom had invited practically everyone they’d ever met.

Josie and Courtney had barely left the dancefloor since they were let loose after dinner unless it was to get another drink that didn’t even make it back to the dancefloor. The looseness in her limbs helped the floating feeling coursing through her even as she and Courtney scream-singed at each other manically. Liam moved around them, manic in his own way, and joined them to bounce and sing through the choruses.

Every so often, Josie would catch sight of Brock somewhere throughout the room being cornered by someone who was no doubt talking to him about hockey. It was happening to Jake Oettinger, too. They were both far too nice to even pull a face that might let someone know they didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe they did want to talk about it—Josie didn’t know Jake very well at all and it had been years since she’d known Brock in any meaningful capacity.

The dancing did eventually stop when it was time for speeches, so Josie procured another drink from the bar and took her designated seat and readied herself for a bunch of inside jokes she had no context for. The chair beside her pulled back and Josie started to greet the old friend from high school she’d spoken with throughout dinner only to be met with Brock’s smiling face.

“Wow, Mike, you’ve changed a lot since dinner.”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention since dinner,” he said, hushed. “You’ve been having fun.”

It didn’t take long for the speeches to drag on—the bride was the least interesting person Josie had ever met and nobody had injected her with any personality in the lead up to the wedding which was a surprise because her father stole the show and spoke for what may have been half an hour.

Brock was mumbling under his breath beside her, mostly when a new person got up to speak but the ones that had her struggling to muffle her own laughs were the for fuck’s sake that fell from his mouth whenever someone paused, raising everyone’s hope, only to continue and destroy it all. Everyone was apparently following the same formula of disappointment.

The applause when the speeches finally ended could not have been solely for the speech itself, it was far too enthusiastic for how boring the speech was.

“Drink?” Brock asked, already standing.

Josie was past the point of being concerned about a hangover, so she walked with Brock to the bar, ordered another glass of champagne and happily let Brock walk them outside. It was a cooler night than the last time they sat outside, but the alcohol running through her veins meant that Josie hardly felt it.

“Do you ever just tell people you don’t want to talk about hockey?”

Brock’s mouth twitched, “Josie, I don’t want to talk about hockey.”

She huffed, slouching down in the chair she found, and then started to giggle when Brock’s face morphed into a proper smile. Still laughing, Josie let her head fall back against the top of the chair, her eyes falling shut even if she did want to stare up at the stars.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” she asked slowly, taking time to sound out each word. “I don’t know how long I can talk for.”

“I just wanted to see if you were okay after what James said.”

it was a punch to the gut, being reminded. She forced herself to shrug. Talking was, at that point, beyond her. Brock didn’t seem bothered by the silence.

When the next wedding rolled around, Josie was much more sensible. It helped that Courtney and Liam had finally departed for their honeymoon and Josie had nobody to get silly with, and also that her parents were in attendance. It was a much smaller wedding, too, so she couldn’t blend into the crowd.

The biggest factor might have been that she had been seated right next to Brock. Somehow, she didn’t know who was the reason behind it, their chairs ended up right next to each other—so close that she could feel the warmth of his body from his leg where it was pressed against hers.

“Will the speeches be better this week?” Brock whispered in her ear. Josie covered her mouth to muffle the sudden laugh that threatened to burst from her mouth.

They weren’t better, but they were at least shorter.

It didn’t take any convincing for Josie to join Brock outside—their own little wedding tradition, it seemed. It was their space, even when half the guests had ventured outside and away from the loud music, and Josie couldn’t help but lean towards him to make sure she didn’t miss a single word he said.

“I didn’t realise we still had so many friends in common,” she said after they were briefly interrupted by someone wanting to say hello.

Brock bristled, affronted, “I didn’t just forget everyone when I left.”

“No, I know,” she stressed. “You and I both know that the hockey team and I weren’t exactly best friends. James made sure of that after you went to Iowa.”

Brock’s face fell. He’d heard the stories because Josie was the one to tell him during the summer after high school after two years of being put through hell. James’ outburst at Courtney and Liam’s wedding wasn’t dissimilar to what he’d been saying to her for years.

“That’s not the point, though,” Josie interjected, noticing that Brock was opening his mouth to speak. “The point is, that I forget that you had friends outside of the hockey team. Have friends outside the hockey team.”

It didn’t do much to appease Brock, Josie noticed, a sullen expression still etched across his face. Her shoulders fell when she realised that she’d sufficiently killed the happy mood they had been sitting in.

Without warning, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Brock said, “You’re one of the best friends I’ve kept.” He continued, after a loud and uncontrolled scoff from Josie, “I know we aren’t as close as we used to be but… I don’t know, you’re someone I would have hated to lose contact with.”

Josie rose and moved towards Brock, bending down to wrap her arms around his neck before he could even register what she was doing. She was forever glad they were still in touch, even if they typically only talked over the summer.

It did nothing to help ten years of pent-up feelings when Brock’s hand settled against her lower back, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide the warmth of it. The size of it. The way it made her heart jump into her throat.

He didn’t move it as she started to pull away—not because she wanted to move, but because she had to in order to preserve her own sanity. She could only imagine the sadness and longing, in her eyes when she was just far enough from him to make eye contact.

“Brock…”

“Why haven’t we?” Brock asked in a whisper.

In just as quiet a whisper, Josie asked back, “Why haven’t we what?”

“You know what.”

Brock’s eyes drifted to her mouth, and Josie promptly forgot how to breathe. Josie looked at his mouth, struck by the way they slowly parted and hers unconsciously did the same. The light pressure on her lower back increased, it was only slightly but it was enough to have her leaning into him.

“Josie? Are you out here?”

With a sudden but noticeable lack of warmth against her lower back, Josie straightened with a heavy sigh—Brock was laughing in disbelief.

“Yes, Mom,” she said, slowly sinking back into the seat she’d left.

And so, Josie’s mom wandered out into the courtyard, none the wiser to what she had interrupted, and starting a lengthy rant about her own sister that held Brock and Josie captive until it was time for the First Dance.

At least by then Josie’s breathing had returned to normal, though her erratic heartbeat was never going to calm when Brock was looking at her so softly.

The summer of weddings was never ending, with Josie being pulled interstate to attend weddings of some of her sorority sisters. They were exceedingly fun, even if Josie found herself looking around the room for Brock without realising—he’d become quite the fixture.

She was still yet to see him outside of a wedding, despite his assertion that they were friends, but Josie wasn’t making any efforts to organise that either, so she wasn’t able to blame him solely. Courtney had not been quiet about any of it and had made multiple threats to schedule a double date. All of her suggestions had been cut down, no matter how well intentioned.

At Josie’s final wedding of an otherwise gruellingly long summer, she spotted Brock almost instantly. As did Courtney and Liam, both of whom pushed Josie in Brock’s direction. She only barely saved herself from tripping in her heels before Brock was shifting his attention away from Jake Oettinger—god, it really was a small world that he’d been at two of the summer’s weddings—and noticing her. He didn’t waste any time in abandoning Jake to stand beside Josie.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Surely there’s no one left in Minnesota to get married.”

“Just us, I think.”

Josie didn’t want to conjure up an image of her standing with Brock at an altar, in a dress she’d been dreaming about her entire life, but she did. In high-definition technicolour.

With cheeks red and warm, Josie blinked the image from her mind and accidentally made eye contact with Brock when she started to frantically search for Courtney to come save her. The eye contact was the worst thing she could have done; it added to her wedding daydream as she plastered that expression onto Brock’s face at the altar.

It became clear that nobody was coming to her rescue—that anybody even noticed she was in need of rescuing— so Josie turned her back on the crowd of people so that they wouldn’t see the heartbreak on her face when she said, “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” Brock asked with no hesitation or uncertainty.

“Because it’s not just us, Brock. It’s never me.”

“What are you talking about, Josie?” She had never heard him sound so exasperated or confused. The tight pull of his eyebrows softened as he said, “It was always you. It’s literally always been you.”

Josie frowned as she felt her shoulders sag—no weight had been lifted from them by the admission. In fact, she felt more tense than ever at Brock’s words.

“That’s… That might be worse, you know?” she sighed. “It’s been like ten years and if it’s always been me then why has it never been me?”

“Why has it never been me? I didn’t think I was very subtle.”

A swarm of people began to move in their direction, and Josie turned just enough to see people beckoning the crowd into the chapel.

Harried and conscious of how close everyone else was getting, Josie whispered frantically, “We can’t do this now.”

“We can do this whenever,” Brock said, taking Josie’s hand as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “We should do this all the time.”

Josie’s brain wasn’t entirely online as she felt Brock’s long fingers wrap around hers, and it was only just started to register everything around her again when he used that hand to pull her closer to him. There was so much time to move away, that Josie nearly did because she thought he’d pulled her in on accident. The way his head tilted down was unmistakable, though, and Josie didn’t want to move a muscle as their lips touched for the first time.

#brock boeser fic #brock boeser imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #canucks fic

[lam-ila]

Hotel Room || Brock Boeser

Summary: Brock invites you to a family vacation where you have to share a bed and… well I think you know what’ll happen next.

Word Count: 1,629

Warnings: none (please let me know if you find any that i should add)

Maleeha’s Masterlist

a/n: here’s my entry for the 2024 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston ! this was written for @gravestrain . i hope you like it Elle!

this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated

LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡

You and Brock had been best friends since high school and you two were very close. You were invited to each others’ family dinners, parties, and vacations. Most recently, Brock invited you to a week long family vacation Cancun. However, this family vacation was different from the other ones you attended as this was a vacation that included Brock’s extended family and you very much wanted to make them like you.

It was a long and tiring commute over to Cancun, but you had finally made it to the hotel you were staying at. Having already eaten dinner, you, Brock, and his family agreed on crashing in the hotel rooms in order to be refreshed for the next few days to come.

You stood in the hotel lobby as you and Brock waited for your room keycards, becoming suspicious when you saw a few of Brock’s cousins in a huddle with their and your room keycards.

“Here’s your keycards.” One of them said while handing Brock the keycards. “Well, see you two tomorrow!” His cousins left for the elevator before either one of you could respond, leaving just you and Brock standing in the lobby.

“They seemed overly excited to give us our keycards.” Brock pointed out, a hint of worry laced within his words.

“They’re probably just excited that we’re at the hotel.” You said in an attempt to ease his mind.

“No, there’s definitely something there hiding from us.” Brock reached for your hand and protectively intertwined his fingers with yours. You knew it was common for him and his cousins to play pranks on each other and you could tell that Brock was worried that they pulled a prank on you.

Once you reached the room and opened the door, you noticed that there was only one bed in the centre of the room.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.” Brock said, taking his hand out of yours and running it through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, unsure of the problem.

Brock walked over to one of the bedside tables, noticing a hand written note that read ‘have fun’. He turned around in frustration; that was the prank his cousins pulled, they knew to give you a room with two beds and they chose not to.

“I told my cousins to give us a room with two beds and they purposely gave us a room with only one bed!” Brock pointed out, waving the note around in frustration.

“I mean, it’s not that bad.” You reasoned. Was sharing a bed with each other that much of a challenge for Brock? Maybe you were just reading into it too much.

“Yeah, I know.” Brock sighed, easing your worries. “I just didn’t want them to do something to you.”

You took the note out of his hand, confused at the message written on it, but put it aside after realizing it was probably some inside joke between Brock and his cousins.

After you and Brock got ready for bed, you sat one one side of the bed, fully expecting Brock to follow and sit on the other side. Instead, to your dismay, he took the pillow off of his side and placed it onto the floor.

“Brock, you are not sleeping on the floor.” You broke the ongoing silence that was present since discovering the note left by his cousins.

“But there’s… I mean… they…” he stammered.

As he was trying to explain his thoughts, you slowly walked over to him and lightly placed your index finger on his mouth, silently shushing him.

“It’s okay,” you assured while taking your finger off of his lips. “just get in the bed.”

“Is that an order?” Brock teased, a slight smirk appearing on his face.

“Mhm. You and I are both getting in the bed and then we’re going to sleep because it’s a bed and not a big deal.” You explained, trying to convince not only him, but yourself that sleeping together in one bed wasn’t as tragic as it seemed.

“Alright.” He said, picking up his pillow and returning it to the bed. “But if I bother you at any point throughout the night, you wake me up and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Okay Brock.” You chuckled, agreeing only to get him to stop suggesting that he slept on the floor.

So there you were, both laying in the same bed with all the lights off minus two lamps which rested on bedside tables next to each side of the bed. Brock faced away from you and you on your back facing the ceiling. Both of your eyes were wide open in thought.

“Hey Brock?” You called out, hoping he wasn’t too tired after a full day of travelling to have a conversation.

“Yeah?” He responded, turning to face you, but you stayed still and continued to look at the ceiling.

“What are we?” You hit him with the hard hitting question. The question he never found the courage to ask in fear of losing you as a friend. “I mean, we’re friends, yeah, but what is all of this going on between us?” You shifted your body so that you were looking at him, wanting to see what his body reaction was to your question.

“What do you mean?” Brock asked, a concerned look fully present on his face.

“That,” you pointed out. “that’s what I mean.”

“Well, I’m concerned because I’m your friend.”

“No Brock, that’s not what I-” You cut yourself off, deciding to drop the topic. “Never mind, just forget I said anything.” You began turning to face away from him, but Brock quickly grabbed your hands to prevent you from turning away. He only dropped your hands once you showed that you weren’t going to turn away.

“Then what did you mean? It’s obvious it’s important to you and if it’s important to you then it’s important to me.”

You took a deep breath as you smiled slightly at his words.

“I mean, are we more than what we think we are? Because last time I checked, people who are just friends don’t act the way we do towards each other and then there was the note on the-”

“That was just a stupid joke my cousins always make about me.” Brock interrupted you to downplay said note which was currently crumpled up in the hotel room’s garbage bin.

“Would you let me finish?” You slightly teased. “What I’m trying to say is that I like being friends with you.”

“Okay, I like being friends with you too.”

You tilted your head to give him a pointed look, indicating you still hadn’t said what you wanted to say.

“I’m still not done.” You explained.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You found his hand under the covers and squeezed it in reassurance. “I like being friends with you and sometimes I feel like we’re more than that. Sometimes, I wish that we were more than that.” You paused, waiting for Brock’s reaction. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words were spoken. “But I understand if you don’t want that. It doesn’t have to change anything.” You quickly added, still unsure of what Brock thought. Your eyes frantically scanned his face over and over again, looking for any indication of a response. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Sometimes?” He teased.

“What?”

“You only sometimes wish that we were more than that?” Brock laughed softly to himself. “‘Cause I always wish that we were more than that.”

“Really?” A smile starts to spread on your lips, but it drops and you abruptly sit up when you realize: “This is just some sick joke that you’re pulling.”

“Why would you think that?” Brock follows your actions and sits up.

“You really think I would fall for this?” You accused, getting up from the bed. You went to the washroom and started collecting your things, wanting to be anywhere but in a room with Brock.

“I don’t understand.” Brock said, following you into the washroom to try to stop you from leaving. “Why would you think that?” He repeated.

“Just forget I said anything.” You tried to brush past him, but he stopped you in the doorway of the washroom.

“Why would you think that?” Brock repeated a third and final time, this time much slower than the previous two times. He waited for a response, but all you did was look at the ground and not say anything. Brock took your hand in his, gently pulling you to the bed that started everything and you both sat down on it. Letting go of your hand, he softly caressed your cheek until you finally spoke up.

“It’s not a joke.”

“Nope.”

“It was just,” you sighed, unsure of how to get your thoughts out. “too good to be true that I guess I just tried to think of any reason why it wouldn’t be true.”

Brock shifted his body to get a better view of you as you tilted your head to finally look him in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I didn’t feel that way about you.”

“We always invite each other to family vacations, how was I supposed to know the intent behind this invitation was any different?” You laughed in disbelief, playfully hitting Brock’s shoulder.

“That was my bad.” He laughed along with you.

“So, does this mean that… well… that we’re…”

“Just ask me to be your boyfriend.” Brock abruptly cut you off. “Uh… please?”

Laughing at his eagerness, you asked the question you’ve been wanting to ask for years: “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Brock simply hummed in response before finally capturing your lips with his in a kiss.

——————————

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#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #maleeha writes #brock boeser #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser fic #brock boeser imagine

[writingonleaves]

bundles of flowers (we'll wade through the hours of cold) - brock boeser

pairing: brock boeser x original female character

warnings: literally nothing, lots of fluff, flower research i did two years ago, not proofread

title: “promise" by ben howard

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: dug up a creative writing piece i wrote two years ago for a class and tweaked it a bit to create this. happy holidays to all. hope you all enjoy <3

*****

It’s a routine.

When Amber Chen was a young girl, she spent most days after school at Petals Lab & Design, zooming through the front door into her father’s waiting arms, chattering about the meal she had whipped up in the play kitchen at Kindergarten that day. Customers would fawn at her pigtails as she hid shyly behind her father or skipped behind the counter and hoisted herself up on a stool, munching on apple slices her mother had cut.

During her high school days, she would be sure to lock her car twice, twirling her keys around her pointer finger as she walked in. She’d drop her backpack, placing her iced green tea in the center of the counter. If the shop was filled with customers, she’d go into the back room and check the whiteboard filled with her father’s scrawl. If the shop was empty, she’d lean her head on her chin while listening as her parents rattled on about shipments or what was going to for dinner that night. On Mondays and Fridays, it was just her and Xavier or Willow in the shop. On those afternoons, she blasted the music a little louder, swayed her hips a little bolder and dragged whichever poor soul was working that day into a dramatic dance that always left both of them laughing. 

Once Amber went to college, she still found herself coming in every other Sunday to help out, with a sample of whatever baked good she had made that week, an iced green tea, a hot black coffee and a cappuccino. Her mother would always roll her eyes, before reaching for a cookie or cupcake or brownie, chewing it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds and scrunching up her nose. 

“This is too sweet,” she’d say, or, “Too much chocolate.” 

Her father would then wander out, taking a small sip of his coffee first before placing a gentle kiss in her hair. 

“Missed you. How are classes?” Before she could answer, he would always get distracted by something else, whether it be a customer, a phone call or the sudden epiphany of remembering something he had to do hours ago. 

Amber knows that a bouquet of lilies was always acceptable for a funeral or that corsages cost $30 on average, and that yes, they can find a flower color to match the dress. She could rattle off cost estimation for bouquets by the time she was 13. She even finds herself from time to time sitting across from couples at a table tucked in the back corner of their shop, pulling out wrinkled papers to consult them about the floral arrangements for their wedding. 

One hot morning in July, she’s left completely alone to open the shop. Her parents are helping with preparations at a large wedding. She had decided to play one of her favorite playlists over the speakers, soft guitar plucking and the honey-like voice of John Mayer accompanying the routine of putting out the flowers that had arrived that morning. The music’s louder than usual, as people usually flock in about an hour after opening.

But this time, the bell rings after two songs, and she looks up to see a guy around her age, gray hoodie over his blonde hair, black vans covering his feet. The neutral color scheme of his outfit heavily contrasts the bright colors of the flowers around him. He has a calm aura about him, hunched shoulders as if he’s trying to make himself smaller to fit into the shop. She shoots him a tired smile before going back to stocking the bouquets of roses. She waits until the end of the song to speak up, finding him glancing at the orchids.

“Anything I can help you with today?”

He looks up, “Uh, not at the moment.” His hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “My mom’s birthday is today, and I’m a jackass who is getting her something right before she wakes up.”

“Well, orchids are always a solid choice.” Amber backs away with a small nod. “Let me know if you need anything.” He hums in thanks, and she walks back to the register. 

She pulls out her laptop and looks over the materials her eventual boss sent her to read before her first day of work in a month,  singing along to “Daughters” under her breath, ears alert for the tinkling of the bell at the front door. 

She looks up to see the guy shuffling to the counter, and closes her laptop. He clears his throat, eyes bright and smile contagious. “Do you happen to do custom bouquets?”

“We do.” Amber walks from behind the counter and leads him to their lab, eyes going to the multitudes of flowers and brain already spinning with ideas. “Tell me about your mom. What’s your relationship with her like?”

He blinks. “Good. She’s literally always smiling. Has never yelled at me once. She’s the strongest woman I know.” He trails off as she gathers a couple of various stems. “That all you need?”

“Well, let’s see.” She points at each flower as she describes them. “Gerbera Daisies represent happiness, pink carnations represent gratitude and peonies represent prosperity and good health. Pair all that with some baby’s breath and you got a beautiful bouquet right there.” She raises an eyebrow. “Ultimately though, it’s your gift. I can do whatever you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head with a nervous chuckle. “It’s perfect. Go ahead.”

She flashes him a grin before methodically cutting the stems of the flowers, arranging them into a lively arrangement of colors and wrapping it all together with tissue paper and a ribbon to match.

He pays for the bouquet at the register, and when she comes around the counter to hand it to him, he thanks her before ducking his head down and walking back out into the muggy Saturday morning air. She blinks as she watches him get into his car, but shakes her head to herself as the phone starts ringing. 

A few weeks later, Amber finds herself waking up to a frantic call from her mother, asking if she can meet up at Camrose Hill for a wedding. Her father has to deal with a shipping miscommunication back at the store, and she needs one more helping hand. When Amber arrives, she steps out, travel mug filled with tea in her right hand and her left hand smoothing down her red floral dress. After asking around, she finds her mother next to carts filled with roses in various colors. With a quick hug, Amber gets to work on building the arch, the light breeze making her regret not putting her hair up. 

“Funny seeing you here.”

She looks up and blinks twice, standing up from her crouched position. 

“Good morning.” She eyes him up and down, admiring his white button up and black dress pants. 

“You here for the wedding?”

“I’m the Best Man, actually.” He chuckles, shoving his hand in his pockets. “My best friend’s getting married.”

“Congratulations,” she says softly, climbing onto a nearby chair to reach the top of the arch. “Beautiful place to do it too.”

He nods, eyebrows furrowing as she stumbles slightly in her heeled sandals. “Do you need help?”

“Absolutely not. You’re a guest. You shouldn’t even be out here right now.” He eyes her warily when she attempts to reach down to grab some roses off the cart, hands automatically going up as she almost falls over. She sighs, “Fine. Grab me five ivory ones and three pink ones, please. And the scissors.”

“So, what do they mean?”

“Hm?”

“The roses. What do they mean?”

She glances at him as she intertwines the stems together, wiggling her fingers at him for more flowers. “They’re roses. Roses are pretty typical for a wedding, generally symbolizing love. I’m sure you know that.”

“How about the colors?” 

“Your friend’s soon to be wife chose ivory instead of white, and ivory usually means gracefulness. Peach roses are usually given as a thank you gift, so gratitude and sincerity is tied to that one. I’ll admit that green roses are more rarer in weddings, but it means growth, so perhaps the start of growing together as a married couple?” She shrugs. “Or maybe she just likes the color combination.”

“Knowing Stacy? It was probably very methodical.”

Amber laughs airily, before sticking her hand out. “Help me down? I need to move the chair to the other side.”

Before he can respond, someone from inside the tent calls his name. He helps her down quickly, before running his hand through his hair. 

She hums. Brock. It fits. “So that’s your name.”

“Can I get yours?” He asks hopefully. 

His name is called again and Amber shrugs with a sly grin. “Another time. Think you’re needed, Best Man.”

With a slight huff, he backs away with a wave. Her attention goes back to her fingers as she threads the flowers into the white arch, listening to the chatter of the other employees preparing. She’s out of the venue before the guests have even started arriving.

The summer always brings in tourists from all over, many itching to take a peek at a shop that has a rainbow of flowers outside of its doors. Balancing her new job at a PR firm, she pops in to help her parents, fingers slowly getting scars and cheekbones beginning to hurt daily. 

On a day where the sun is shining bright and the shop is in a lull during lunch hour, Brock walks in. His smile is wide as he makes small talk with her mother across the shop. Amber freezes when she sees both sets of eyes on her, and swallows her tea as he walks over. 

“Hi again.”

“I came in yesterday looking for you,” he said. “Your parents told me to come back today.”

“Looking for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they tell you my name?” 

“Amber.” Fuck, her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. 

“That’s what they call me.”

“Beautiful name for a stunning girl.”

She snorts, “What can I do for you?”

He grins slightly at her professional tone. “My mom was complaining about how her place isn’t homey enough, so I figured I’d come to my favorite flower shop and talk to the experts about how to fix that.”

“My parents could’ve helped you with that.”

“I know, but I wanted your opinion.”

She moves from behind the counter, lips lifting into a smile as he immediately follows her. “If you want just a bouquet, you can never go wrong with sunflowers. And judging from your sporadically timed visits, you’re probably not around town much, so it wouldn’t be wise to get a plant that you would actually have to take care of. Unless that’s what your mother wants.”

“How do you-”

She stops in front of the sunflowers, ignoring his question. “We got a fresh delivery this morning. If you don’t like these, there are plenty of orchids I’d suggest as well.”

“I’ll take the sunflowers. What’s the special meaning of these?”

“Exactly what they look like. They bring happiness into people’s day.”

“That they do.” She feels her cheeks flush from his stare.

She quickly rings him up and bids him farewell as he walks out the door, smiling to her parents along the way. They both turn their heads to look at her as soon as the door shuts, and she rolls her eyes before venturing into the back room, ignoring the shout of questions and comments.

Winter rolls around quickly. Every time someone has purchased sunflowers these past couple of months, she can’t help but think of Brock; the last image of him imprinted in her brain was him walking out the door with sunflowers in his hand. That was four months ago.

Since then, Amber’s figured out who he is. Brock Boeser. Vancouver Canucks. Minnesota’s very own. She’s spent many nights with a few glasses of wine deep thinking too much about it. 

She’s outside the shop one day after a long day of work, on top of a ladder, gloved fingers fumbling around with the string of lights. Her cheeks are rosy, snowflakes are sticking to her hair and she’s been yawning every five minutes for the last hour, but she’s determined to get these lights up before she locks up in 15 minutes. The poinsettias, mistletoe and holly are scheduled to arrive the next morning.

“Are you guys still open?”

She straightens up at the familiar voice and tightens the gray scarf around her neck. “Yep. I’ll be down in a minute.” She hangs the last of the lights and plugs them in. Wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms, she stores the ladder away and walks in. 

“Brock. Hey. What can I help you with today?” She asks, ducking into the back room to hang up her coat. The shop is quiet, crooning notes of Spotify’s “Christmas Coffeehouse” playing in the background. The dark blue button up peeking out of his black winter coat makes her smile. It’s the most color she has ever seen on him.

“Can you help me with a bouquet?”

“Of course.” She observes the half-empty buckets. “What things do you want to symbolize this time?”

“I actually know what I want.”

“Oh yeah? Great. What would you like?”

“Purple lilacs, irises, pink roses and baby’s breath, please.”

“Just give me a second. The roses are in the back.” She begins arranging the flowers and looks up as she’s grabbing the wrapping paper, noticing his confused stare. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just, didn’t tell me what they mean. Like, the flowers.”

Amber chuckles. “You’ve obviously done your research. You still want me to?” Brock nods. “Okay, purple lilacs symbolize first love, irises symbolize wisdom and eloquence. Roses are romantic, but pink ones specifically? That symbolizes admiration. So I would guess you’re giving this to someone you like, maybe a romantic partner? Someone you haven’t been with for long?”

He whistles, “Damn. You’re good.”

Her heart sinks the slightest bit as she shrugs, before a particular set of flower stems caught her eye. “I know it’s your bouquet, but how would you feel about adding daffodils? It would add a beautiful contrast to all the purple you have in here. I won’t even charge you for it.”

“Add them in, and charge me for it too.” She plucks the daffodils out of the bin, separating them throughout the bouquet. “What do those mean?” Brock asks. 

“The daffodils?”

“Yeah.”

She clears her throat. “New beginnings.”

After adding the finishing touch of a purple ribbon, she punches the sale in the register and walks from behind the counter to hand the bouquet to him. 

Brock shakes his head. “Nope.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Sorry?”

“They’re for you, actually.” She raises an eyebrow, and he continues, flexing his fingers continuously. “It’s my stupid way of asking if you would like to go on a date with me.”

She looks down at the bouquet and back up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“If you’re free. Or in a couple weeks. I, uh, I don’t work around here, unfortunately. So I won’t be back in Minnesota until about a month or two.”

“I know who you are, Brock Boeser.” She hands the flowers to him again. “Hold these while I close up?”

“Is that a yes?”

Amber grins, scanning the shop. “Yeah. It’s not stupid, by the way.” She shuts off the lights, grabs her coat and locks the front door, her date for the night following her obediently. “It’s actually really sweet.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” She tentatively reaches for his fingers with her other hand as she admires the bouquet. “Do you wanna know something?”

“Anything,” He says, leaning down so he can hear her better.

“Daffodils are actually my favorite flower.”

“Like, ever? Out of all flowers?”

“Out of all flowers.”

He leads her to Osteria La Buca with a wink that has her stomach flipping. “What a coincidence.”

She looks down at the bouquet with a smile.

#k writes #in case anyone needs a break from holiday chaos #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #brock boeser #brock boeser writing #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #brock boeser x oc

[comphy-and-cozy]

48 with Brock!!! His dogs are sooo cute

they are the cutest little guys which is fitting bc so is brock

celebrate 1K with me

Prompt: #48 "Send. Pic. Of. Dog. Now."

Pairing: Brock Boeser x Reader (gn)

Word Count: ~730

Warnings: Brief alcohol use/mention

The sound of your keys hitting the floor with a clunk is loud, but you can hardly be bothered to care as you drop your bag beside the keyring. Kicking your shoes off, you make a beeline for the couch, falling face first into the soft cushion with a grunt.

You had one of the worst days you’d had in a while, starting with an empty gas tank that caused you to be late to work. Then, issue after issue and several difficult customers only amped up your irritation, having to take 5 minutes to cry in the breakroom no less than three times. Finally, you escaped the confines of your workplace only to find that you had locked your keys in your car and had to wait over an hour for AAA to arrive.

So, to say you want to curl up into a ball and cry is an understatement. You’re almost too exhausted to do even that, choosing to savor the feeling of being horizontal after the day from hell.

And then your phone buzzes. You groan, allowing yourself a few more moments of wallowing in self-pity before you heave yourself up to pull your phone out of your pocket to check the message, hoping it's not more bad news.

[Brock:] how’s it going?

With a snort, you think to yourself, ‘Where do I begin?’, instead opting to send an easier message: “Send. Pic. Of. Dog. Now.”

Not 30 seconds later, an entire collection of photos of Milo and Coolie snoozing on his couch, the last one a blurry shot of Coolie’s tongue licking the camera. You smile through a sniffle, reacting to the image with a thumbs up.

A little while later, your phone buzzes again, this time with an incoming call from Brock. You place him on speakerphone, not bothering to lift your head from the cushion.

“That bad, huh?” he laughs upon hearing your grunt as a greeting.

“You have no idea.”

You can hear he’s in the car, the sound of his blinker in the background. “You want to talk about it?”

“I just want to drown myself in ice cream and a fuzzy blanket. Maybe a glass of wine. Or four.”

He laughs. “Ice cream and wine? Doesn’t sound like the best pairing, but I’ve heard worse.”

“Don’t judge me.”

“Hey, do your thing,” he says, and you can imagine him holding his hands up in defense. You hear the jingle of his keys and the shutting of a car door.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Me? Oh just dropping something off to a friend.”

As if on cue, you hear a knock on your door. With a groan, you roll yourself off of the couch to answer it, expecting to see a delivery driver with a package. Instead, it’s Brock, holding his phone to his ear and two leashes in his other hand. He’s grinning, then holds up a paper bag. “I come bearing gifts.”

You don’t bother hanging up the phone, instead launching yourself forward into his arms with a tight squeeze. The tears well up faster than you anticipate, and he secures his arms around you and rocks you gently while you cry.

“This is so sweet,” you say through sniffles.

“I couldn’t just leave you hanging after you had an awful day,” he smiles once you let him go, a tearful smile in return. 

Brock gestures for you to step back into your house, then whistles at Coolie and Milo, who pounce through your front door and look up at you expectantly, waiting for pets and treats. Their excited tails flap as their tongues find your face while you give each of them a greeting, already feeling your bad mood dissipating at the arrival of the dogs. And Brock. Mostly the dogs.

But then Brock pulls out a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a bottle of Pinot Noir, and you’re gaping up at him. “How did you know?” you ask.

“I know you better than anyone,” he says with a smile, moving into your kitchen to retrieve spoons and wine glasses. “Or did you forget?”

You shake your head no, accepting the wine glass gratefully. “Thank you, Brock.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off, then plops on the couch, whistling to encourage the dogs to hop up beside him.  “Now, should we watch Frozen or Moana?”

#brock boeser #brock boeser blurb #brock boeser fic #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser x reader #hockey fic #c's 1k celly

[cuttergauthier]

Spring time

I hope you love it🤍

(These photos do not belong to me, this is all fanfiction)

Bboeser

Liked by Yourusername, _Quinnhughes and more

Bboeser She makes me the happiest man in the world🤍

Tagged Yourusername

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Yourusername i love you so much🤍

_Eliaspettersson Spring time!!!!

_Quinnhughes You two make me feel so single😒

→Yourusername want me to set you up?

lexdemko You two are so cute🥺

→tdemko30 not cuter than us though!

→Bboeser debatable!

Hollyhorvat Miss you guys🥺

→Yourusername we miss you too🥺

J.tmiller9 Y/n did he force you to go on a photoshoot?

→ Yourusername 100%

→Bboeser this was your idea!

→_Eliaspettersson liar i was there when he begged her!

→Bboeser okay fine... but you can’t blame me, spring is the best time for a photoshoot!

Yourusername

Liked by bboeser, Nmiller_02 and more

Yourusername He took me on a date and got me flowers, how did i get so lucky🥺🤍

tagged bboeser 

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_quinnhughes Pretty sure he’s the lucky one!

→Bboeser I agree!!

bboeser I love you so much🤍

Nmiller_02 The cutest couple!!!

Lexdemko Can we make it a double date next time?

→Yourusername Yes!!

_Eliaspettersson Prince charming?

→Yourusername yes🥺

Bohorvat i though him well!!

HollyHorvat my favourites🥺

#NHL Hockey #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #brock boeser #brock boeser blurb #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #fake instagram edit #insta edit #hockey #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #quinn hughes #elias pettersson #bo horvat #thacher demko

[pcttymcrlecu]

fools rush in (and i've been a fool before)

inspired kind-of by: please don’t say you love me by gabrielle aplin

summary: previous fears, heavy words and a fear of change hinders the spark that turned lilah’s heart into summer despite the long canadian winter.

featuring: lilah j. winters (oc) and the vancouver canucks, namely bo horvat, holly horvat, tulsa horvat, milo boeser and coolie boeser

word count: 4k

warnings: none 

m’s rambles: this is for @antoineroussel​’s winter fic exchange 2023. i was given the joy of writing for @torontoflames​ so i hope you enjoy this c!! i spent so long going back and forth hoping to create something worthy to gift to you! it was surprisingly really difficult - not sure i made it as angsty/hurt-comfort as i wanted to but i still hope you enjoy it!

big big thank you to demi for quelling my fears and uncertainties as well as giving me some much needed second opinion on the fic. it’s so very much appreciated!!

i hope you enjoy this semi-personal piece of work – it’s inspired roughly by a relationship/situation i had when i first went to university, so it was cathartic for me to get this out there. there’s a line in here that this someone said to me, and i had to use it. like it’s something and it’s stuck with me, and i needed to make way for it in something i wrote, and this was apparently it. i wonder if you can figure out which line it is.

Lilah had grown up around athletes her whole life which had led to her interest in working with them as a grown-up. When she moved to university, she had somehow cemented herself a place amongst the college athletes in her year by pure chance which made her life easier in the later years of her university career. As cheesy as it sounds, they’d all become like brothers to her and for that, she was more than happy to have found them.

When a fortunate internship program for her chosen career as a sports psychologist had brought Bo Horvat into her life, she never expected to become an honorary Horvat. It had taken mere moments for Bo to claim the young woman, who at the time was a nervous wreck, as his sister and quickly took her under his wing. She would be lying to say she didn’t appreciate having someone on her side in such a daunting and intimidating situation. He took his responsibilities as a big brother seriously and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness.

Knowing Bo Horvat came with knowing the rest of the Vancouver Canucks, thus a whole host of new brothers were introduced to her world. Most of whom were happy to play protective big brother when needed on nights out. Their partners gave her a welcome reprieve from all the testosterone whenever she’d see them around to the point where she began to receive invites to brunches and casual hangouts. It was a whole new circle that she could never have dreamed of being a part of and yet when she’d pinch herself, they didn’t fade, and the woman would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel all warm inside.

Lilah considered herself a woman of strong will and wasn’t one to swoon over any of the players just because of who they were. She thought she’d created strong defences against their so-called charm considering how long she’d been around the flirtatious tendencies of young athletes and yet here she caught herself floating off the ground slightly at the sight of a certain blond. Her eyes were scanning the scene happening in the garden, bobbing gently with Tulsa in her arms in an attempt to give her parents some free time to just exist as a couple, not parents. She loved taking care of them, being their self-proclaimed favourite aunt, and team barbeques like this gave her all the time in the world to cuddle them.  They also gave her the time to observe the man who had unwittingly swept her right off her feet by simply playing around his pair of canine friends.

When she had first met Brock, it had been during one of her training sessions at Thunderbird Arena when she had been introduced to him. He was one of the players she hadn’t met directly through Bo but rather through the very reason she was even allowed to wander around the players in the first place. They hadn’t spoken much; she was mainly there to observe and had made a vow to stay out of the players' way if she didn’t need to interact with them so as to not bother them. It wasn’t until they’d run into each other once again at a dinner party Holly had convinced Bo to throw that they had slipped into surprisingly easy conversation.

Most likely due to the closeness in their age, the two of them got along like a house of fire. Both fed off each other as they supported one another throughout their careers. She had found a safe space in confiding in the hockey player and was more than happy to be there to listen not as a training professional but simply as a friend. The easiness of their friendship should have been a clear warning sign for the woman but as time progressed she couldn’t spot the signs of things changing until it was too late. It felt like all the air had been stolen from her lungs when the reality of her feelings had finally been processed in her mind. She had left that gathering abruptly, claiming she had a report deadline she had forgotten about before disappearing. 

It was a mistake she had made before and she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t date a young athlete ever again, no matter how endearing and kind they seemed. It was almost as if life had intended for her to date one of the university athletes, after all, she spent as much time with them as she did with her actual friends. If you asked her now, she’d say it was nothing but an unfortunate situation and that she doesn’t hold any resentment towards him. But the hurt which was fed by predominantly fear remained. She knew that Brock would never be the kind of person who would humiliate her in the same way it happened in the past, but she couldn’t quite let go of what-ifs that plagued her mind. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake – not at the risk of her newfound friends.

What made it worse was as her feelings began to process in her mind, all their friends teasing came back to haunt her. The two of them were practically as thick as thieves regardless of how short a time they had known each other and the more she thought about it, the more she could see exactly why her friends were constantly teasing them. What she dismissed once as feeling comfortable and safe with Brock, while all true, she could now acknowledge the underlying reasons behind why everything with him just felt right. Lilah hadn’t realised how far they’d progressed entirely subconsciously, and she wasn’t sure how exactly she should feel about but she wasn’t comfortable anymore.

The following weeks were nothing but declined invites and unanswered phone calls. The only times her friends were able to see her were when they were all at work and it was nothing but professionalism when they were able to speak to her. It wasn’t until Holly turned up at her apartment door with a concerned look on her face and open arms that the truth finally came out. The older woman promised not to tell anyone not even her husband until Lilah did so herself.

From that moment, it was slow going to become part of the group once again. None of her friends mentioned her absence rather they just adopted her back into the pack as if nothing had happened. Getting comfortable around Brock, however, was much more difficult for her. She didn’t want to slip back into their old routine, it was dangerous for her because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold off being near him again. It had taken a much longer length of time, many bribes and an ambush movie night with Milo and Coolie for her to fall back into a comfortable routine with the boy. She still claimed that the puppies did all the heavy lifting that evening.

The same pup that now had an insistent wet nose against her knee, gently pawing at her leg demanding attention. For an excitable young dog Milo who nearly always wanted to do nothing else but play, he was always very aware of young children as he was being so around the baby in Lilah’s arms right now. The dog’s presence, however, clued her into the man who was walking in her direction.

“Hello Prince Charming,” She greeted as he huffed sitting down in the seat beside her, taking a moment to coo at the little girl before rolling his eyes.

“Get off it,” His grumble came, Milo making quick work of getting pets from his dad before wandering off to play with his brother and the other dogs loose in the garden.

“The resemblance is uncanny Boeser you can’t deny it.” She sighed as she leaned over to give the man a gentle push, “I’ll never be able to watch Shrek the same ever again.” 

The laugh that followed was cut short as she paused a moment to look down at the small peaceful face against her chest. Smiling over at him, Lilah took a moment to watch the false frustration on his face fall as he smiled back at her with a good-natured shake of his head. 

“I should have chosen another movie to force you to watch,”

“You shouldn’t have forced me to watch anything!”

“And risk losing my newest friend, no thanks.” Her eyes rolled at his words, a strange tightness building in her chest at what she knew was supposed to be a friendly quip. 

In isolating herself, while it allowed her to wrap her head around the craziness of her own feelings, she had strained the relationships she would say she had been gifted. The whole process was entirely selfish of her, and she hadn’t taken a single moment to consider how it would make her new friends feel.

“You mean a lot more to me than you seem to think you know.” The words cut through her train of thought like a sharp blade, spreading a cold chill through her entire being as she slowly turned her head to look at him through the corner of her eye. Brock’s eyes were already affixed on her, monitoring the slightest changes to her expression. His sudden attentiveness struck a deep fear within her. Even though she knew she should be happy about the implications of his statement, she couldn’t help but feel that feeling of fear sit in her chest again, “I thought I’d lost any inkling of a chance, you know?”

It wasn’t until a beat later that she turned to look at him, adjusting the sleeping infant in her arms to not disturb her, “Chance at what?”

“A chance at being able to tell you that –“

“You know what it doesn’t matter it was in the past.” Her interruption was firm, Lilah could only hope it was firm enough for Brock to get the message to just stop. To let her breathe and process. To give her room to do what she does best and run. 

“It’s not in the past,” He answered louder than either of them had expected, huffing as he turned away and slumped in his seat, “We’ve never spoken about why you cut us all off.”

“Why would we?”

“I can’t speak for the others, but I was scared for you Lils.” His voice was so heart-shatteringly genuine to Lilah to the point where it felt as if she’d been punched straight in the gut.

“No need to be scared for me,” The words were, hopefully, encouraging as she reached over and lightly patted his arm before going back to support Tulsa.

“I can’t help it; I like you, Lilah. I know we joke about it when the others poke and prod, but I really do feel–“

“Brock please don’t do that–”

“Lilah listen to me.”

“You can’t finish that sentence.”

“Why not?”

“Because–!”

“Because? Surely you have a better answer than that.” The look of hurt didn’t escape her notice, but she found herself more focused on the growing frustration on his brow. Real this time – not the light-hearted fake expression he had been donning earlier in their conversation.

“Just– how… we’ve only been friends up until now.”

“Doesn’t mean things can’t change!” His voice was not only getting more frantic but there was a definite tone of conviction that was supported by the look on his face, “I’ve liked you since I met you. I just didn’t know how to get close to you as more than a friend. You were working for the team at the time, I didn’t want to mess that up for you. So, you became my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade that.”

Several beats passed after his confession and Lilah was finding it hard to not only process. A part of her was scolding herself at how thoughtful of her career he was being. They’d spent far too many nights talking about where she hoped to get to in the future so it only made sense that he wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that. The words that followed were whispered, barely carrying any sound, but his response told her that he’d heard it perfectly clearly. “It’s too fast”

“Ask anyone, ask Bo.”

“I believe you, Brock, I just,” Lilah took in a deep breath as she looked back out to the party her eyes hunting for the brother-like figure who had just been mentioned, “I’ve done this before. There’s an expectation being with someone like you and I couldn’t live up to it before, I’m sure as hell not trying again. I’m not going to lose myself again.”

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to change, I thought you knew that.” He had clearly taken some offence from the implication of her words but what hurt Brock more was how much he understood where she was coming from. He knew it wasn’t easy being with him but they were already closer than close, surely a change of their status wouldn’t have that much of an effect?

He’d also say with her when she finally felt comfortable enough to truly be herself and speak about why it wasn’t just her internship that had her reluctant to date any of the players. He remembered having held her close as he watched his, granted reserved, but strong in every sense of the word friend fight to keep her wits about her. It wasn’t until he had let her know that he was there for her that the floodgates and all details about her past were revealed to him. The pain had etched itself into Brock’s heart the more he heard her say with an accompaniment of anger at her ex, boys in general, the world. He wasn’t sure but he knew she didn’t deserve to go through what she had. No one did. 

It’s why he refused to fight her about it. Even though the feeling of rejection cut him deep, it wasn’t deep enough for her to suddenly forget the thought of vengeance in her name that had sat in the recesses of his mind since that eye-opening evening. Instead of fighting and trying to convince her to give him a chance, Brock bit his tongue. He stayed quiet beside her, not knowing where else to go that wouldn’t upset her further until she spoke up once again, directing his attention out of his head and back onto her.

“I don’t I don’t want to lose you. You mean so much to me and I love where we are, how we are.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they simply looked at one another. The look of hurt on Brock’s face had only deepened but she could see understanding slip into his face and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Even in a situation where he’s not getting what he wants, he’s so willing and ready to understand. She would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to see him so down. With a forlorn sigh, she carefully rose from her seat and stared ahead at Bo uttering softly before she walked towards him. “Why should we put that pressure on ourselves?“

Brock had been watching her from the moment she walked away, moving to pass Tulsa back to her parents before giving them a wave. It wasn’t until Lilah had walked back into the house to presumably leave that he let himself answer her question. “Because we could be a diamond.”

A blind man could see that there was a shift in the way the two twenty-somethings interacted. The smooth, slickness of their close friendship, which everyone had gotten bored of teasing the two of them about, had gotten more strained than when Lilah had ignored them all. Maybe because it was clear that she was only making an active effort to avoid Brock which unintentionally put a strain on the whole group. Even Lilah could see that she was pulling her friends in two directions, but she couldn’t quite work through her previous experiences to just open up to the one person she knew she needed to speak to.

With the help of multiple glasses of wine deep into a girl’s night, the girls in question had torn down the walls she had put up hiding behind self-deprecating jokes and sarcasm until Lilah’s voice finally cracked as she shared her fears with her friends. They were all quick to wrap her in tight hugs and comfort her, but they weren’t leaving without helping her fix the knot she had tied herself into.

“You realise he’s hurting too, right?” Holly muttered softly, gently lifting the girl’s chin to face her as she listened to her sniffle. The older woman gently wiped the girl’s tears away, offering her a sisterly smile.

“I know and I hate myself for it.” Lilah’s words prompted very firm shakes from not only Holly but the rest of the gathered women.

“He’s never going to hold it over you. He knows how much you were hurt before, and he’d hate to put you through that again.” She confirmed as Lilah’s hand reached up to catch the newly formed tears before they streaked down her face with their friends, “But he’d never–“

“Let that happen, I know Holl.” A frustrated grunt left her mouth as she threw her hands up at no one but herself, “I’m avoiding him because I don’t want to see the sadness on his face when I can’t repeat his words to him. I don’t want to rush into anything – not this time.”

“Then let him know, don’t leave him wondering whether or not you like him at all.” The reality of what she had left Brock to assume finally hit her, a wave and dread flooding her body before resolve took its place. She was going to make things right, the only way she knew how.

Despite her throbbing head, she was up bright and early for work. Maybe brainstorming with your girls and drinking nearly a bottle of wine to yourself isn’t the best way to fuel your energy levels the night before a workday. Her hands held the tupperware tightly as she walked through the practice facility, a burn she’d procured in her tipsy state was on display on her wrist. A small price to pay she had convinced herself, but she was adamant to start making amends immediately. Anxiety was starting to build in her chest, it felt as though someone was pressing down on her heart the closer she got to the locker room, but her mind was set, and she was going to do it.

When her fist gently knocked on the locker room door, knowing only a few of the team would have actually arrived so early before practice but she knew Brock was one of them (Bo as well in case she needed the moral support). A yell followed her knock, but she only responded with another knock until the door was pulled open to reveal big brother himself who immediately cheered at the sight of her. Fortunately, all the boys were dressed, or at least covered up, as they welcomed her inside. Lilah’s greeting was brief, and she momentarily forgot why she even made the journey until Conor asked about what she was holding.

“Oh yeah – Brock these are for you, I know you like them.” Her voice was as soft as it had been when she first met the boys which they all found weird but understood considering the tension everyone had felt around the two recently. She carefully handed over the container which Brock took apprehensively but accepted with a nod, nonetheless. Watching as he pulled the lid off to reveal protein brownie, a smile that she hadn’t seen on his face (at least around her) made residence on his lips as he looked up at her. After the first time she had made the brownies for the boys, Brock had been begging her to make him a batch, but she always brushed the request off, claiming she was too busy, “I finally had some time to make you some more.”

Giving him a quick smile and a shrug, she turned on her heels and walked straight out of the locker room. Pausing as soon as she was out of their sights to just breathe in deep and fill her lungs properly feeling a little lost for breath but proud of herself for the courage that she had displayed. It was small but she knew it was just the start of her apologies. As she set off down the hallway again with a slight skip in her step, a hand slipped around her bicep gently turning her back around to face the way she had just come.

“Thank you,” Was the first thing she heard as her eyes settled on Brock who had let go of her arm and taken a step back. A weak smile was still perched on his lips as he spoke, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “The boys are a little envious, especially Bo.”

“I think he’s just used to getting the baked goods for himself.” Lilah joked with a nervous smile, watching his face before choosing to bite the bullet and just say what she’s been wanting to say, “Listen, Boes – I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings.”

“Then why did you just walk away? And then avoid me?”

“I told you; I didn’t want to lose you.” It was the honest truth, they both knew it but she also knew it wasn’t the full story. With his kindness and thoughtfulness and willingness to understand, he deserved to know everything, “Being around you makes me both the happiest person in the world and also the most nervous.”

Brock almost couldn’t believe the words he was hearing as his brows furrowed in response, “I make you nervous? Is this still because of the expectations? Of being with a professional athlete?”

“No Brock, I’ve seen you in a clay face mask, I’m not nervous because of who you are!” They both laughed at the memory she had mentioned, it being the same night he gained his new nickname from her, “You make me nervous because my tummy starts to turn, and my heart beats out of control when I’m around you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to do anything that makes you feel unhappy or unsettled. I’m happy where we are too so long as you let me stay here” He couldn’t help but worry that he might have pushed too far and what that meant for their future as friends. His fingers tried to get rid of the anxious energy by softly nudging Lilah’s fingers with her own until he felt a light squeeze from her.

“I didn’t stop you from speaking because I didn’t reciprocate but because I panicked.”

“So, you do care about me the same way?” 

The pure confusion on his face was endearing and all Lilah could do in response was further reduce the gap between them. She reached over and gently took his hand in her own, first grasping onto his fingers and allowing him the opportunity to pull away. When she felt the pressure of his finger bending slightly to hold onto her own, she slipped her hand further in his until their palms sat firmly against one another, “I like how we are, I wasn’t lying. But I can’t deny that my heart skips a beat whenever I’m with you, but we’d be foolish to rush into this and ruin everything that we have. Brock you are my Prince Charming–“

“But he’s–“

“I know he’s the bad guy don’t ruin the moment.” He let out a short laugh, copying her previous actions and stepping closer to her and quickly making work of holding her other hand, “ But I need us to take this slow, can we do that?”

“Of course we can.” The words were whispered as if an entire weight had just fallen off his back. Pulling her across the minimal space between them, his arms wrapped her in the tightest hug he could manage without hurting her and placed a kiss on the crown of her head, “ Whatever you need, you’re what I’ve been looking for.”

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #brock boeser x oc #( m writing. ) #( this entire pic was one of the most challenging things I've done with writing in almost a year so thank you for the opportunity! ) #( it was a rollercoaster but a lot of fun! ) #brock boeser imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #brock boeser fic

[laurenairay]

afraid to know the answer - B. Boeser

Summary: Being friends with benefits with Brock Boeser has a lot of perks...most of the time. Malia finds out the hard way what that means.

Warnings: fwb, oblivious dumb Brock, pining, implied smut but no actual smut, a slow digression into anxiety.

Word count: 9k words

A/N: Title from True by Ryan Cabrera

As @antoineroussel​ said, “we love a dumbass even if they unintentionally break hearts” – and thank you so much for all your help with this one Demi! Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​ and @matthewtkachuk​ as I know much both of you love Brock too 💛 

This has been a work of absolute love, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

*

“Are you sure your friend won’t mind you ditching her?”

“Considering she was sitting in the lap of one of your buddies as we walked out? I think I’ll be fine,” Malia mused.

He just laughed, tilting his head back slightly, making her stomach fill with butterflies. Fuck this guy was so hot. It was going to be a night to remember for sure. While it wasn’t unusual for Malia to leave a bar with a guy in tow, she already knew tonight was going to be different. Call it intuition, or maybe it was crazy attraction. There was just something about this guy that stood out.

And it wasn’t just because he was Brock Boeser.

Yeah, she knew who he was. Born and raised in Vancouver, how could she not? And she knew he knew that she knew who he was - it definitely made things easier anyway. It wasn’t like her friends had been very subtle either; flirting and giggling with that large group of athletes straight away, while Malia struck up conversation with a few of the other guys until it was just herself and Brock left talking.

Well, until they’d decided to take their conversation somewhere more private. Malia knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to mess around with subtlety when she could be between his sheets. It was as simple as that - he seemed to appreciate it at least.

In the taxi back to his apartment, she all but sat on her hands to keep herself composed, blood rushing through her body at the heated looks Brock sent her way, blatant in his desire and appreciation without even saying a word. And from the moment he closed the front door behind her, it was lips and hands and heat and breathlessness and dizzying heights of pleasure until she laid on his bed panting by his side, with wide eyes and aching thighs.

“Fuck me that was good,” Brock groaned, running a hand through his damp hair.

Good to know he felt the same

“You read my mind,” she laughed, turning her head to look at him.

“Yeah?” Brock said, grinning as he propped himself upright with one arm.

It normally gave her the ick when guys fished for compliments like this but, as she thought, there was just something different about him.

“Yeah,” she grinned back, tilting her head to kiss him as he leaned over towards her.

Malia lost a few more moments in his lips, the kisses staying slow but full of promise, consuming her every thought until she had to break the embrace to be able to breathe properly. How was it this good with him? They’d only met a few hours ago, it felt impossible.

“We should do this again sometime,” he said nonchalantly, although she could see the hope in his eyes.

Eager. She could always work with that, especially with someone who’d earned it.

“Sounds good to me,” Malia grinned lazily.

“Like, no strings would be so good for me right now,”

Huh. She paused for a second, taking him in. Was that such a bad idea? Great sex on tap? No worries about trying to impress him on dates or looking cute or trying to read between the lines? Just having a sure thing ready and willing?

She’d be stupid to say no to that.

“You’re pretty bold, Brock Boeser,” she teased, earning a blush on those pretty cheeks, “But you’re also very pretty…so why not?”

“This is going to be fun,” he grinned, “You’ll see. Here’s to friends with benefits.”

Here’s to friends with benefits indeed.

*

Malia hadn’t necessarily expected much to come from those few hours with Brock. Sure, the sex the night they met was incredible, and sure, he’d actually prompted the arrangement himself, making sure they’d exchanged phone numbers before she left his apartment, but for anything to actually happen? Not what she expected at all.

But then he’d messaged three days later, after a Canucks homestand win, asking her to come over again, even going as far as to pay for her Uber. To know he wanted to celebrate a game winning goal with her? Well, it had been pretty flattering, if she was being honest with herself – and when that night went just as well as the first (if not better, because he remembered a few things from the last time), it had sparked a few more hook-ups over the following weeks.

Their friends-with-benefits agreement had only gone from strength to strength, alternating whose apartment they would go to, completely spontaneous and impulsive. Malia genuinely couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so satisfied and yet so comfortable, and she knew she only had Brock to thank for that, for making things so fun and easy.

And she found herself awaiting the next time her phone would ring, knowing each time they met would only get better than the last.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Hello to you too,” Malia mused, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She found herself grinning as she opened up another email, even more so as Brock laughed down the phone at the fake formality. It wasn’t often that she had to work late, very rare in fact, but it was one of those nights. At least she could do it from the comfort of her apartment, relaxing in her sweatpants.

And at least she had Brock to take her mind off things.

It was far from the first time he’d called her up on an evening, and the more he learned exactly what made her body tick, the more she was willing to answer his calls. She’d be crazy not to, she knew that much.

“I hope I’m not distracting you from work too much.”

“You’re always distracting, Brock Boeser, but that is a good thing,” she teased.

She smiled even wider as he huffed at the use of his full name; another perk of their growing friendship – she knew exactly how to push his buttons to get what she wanted. And what she wanted after hearing his sweet voice was him.

“So you won’t mind if I turn up at your door in, ooh, the next 10 minutes?”

Malia laughed, a little incredulously. There was no way he could drive from his apartment to her apartment in the next 10 minutes – he had to already be on his way. Why would he do that? What did that even mean?

“What if I already had plans?” she mused.

She was meant to be working, after all.

“I figured there was a 99% chance of you dropping them if I asked nicely.”

Oh that tease.

“Sounding pretty sure of yourself there,” she mused, biting her bottom lip slightly as desire started to swirl in her blood.

“I know what you like.”

The casualness in his voice, like he was so certain, sent tingles up her spine, enough to drown out the mild alarm sounding in her mind. There was no time or room for doubt. Not when he was nearly there. Not when she wanted him in her bed as soon as possible.

“I guess we’ll see about that,” she said coolly, feigning indifference.

Brock just laughed, seeing right through her words, and she found herself still smiling as he ended the call.

Malia lounged on the sofa while she waited for her doorbell to ring, lazily scrolling through a couple of emails that came through regarding the project she was working on. There was no point in changing into anything sexy or enticing – Brock knew she was working late, and if he wanted the booty call, he’d have to settle for her messy bun and sweatpants. It wasn’t like the sweatpants would stay on for very long anyway. Hopefully.

Soon enough, he was walking into her apartment. Soon enough, he had her pinned to the wall next to the front door, hand cupped behind her head as he kissed her with so much intent that she felt weak at the knees.

Neither of them were patient enough to make it to the bedroom, not that Malia particularly cared about that. No, she felt the same rush that Brock did, both of them desperately stripping off items of clothing as they stumbled down the hallway, barely breaking their embrace, crashing into furniture and bashing their elbows on the walls until she pushed him down into the armchair and straddled his lap. Neither of them even spoke, the only noise being Brock’s deep groan as she tore open the condom wrapper, Malia cutting that noise off with another kiss.

She lost herself in the rhythm and the pleasure, over and over again, time swirling until she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder until he followed her over the edge, his hands clutching tightly at her body as the waves rushed over him too. Fuck. It had been desperate and passionate and so hot. And nothing like she’d ever had with anyone else before. Why was it always so good with him?

“So I guess you do know what I like,” Malia grinned, when she was pulling her sweatpants back on.

“Just making our friendship stronger,” he said simply.

She threw her head back, laughing. Brock just looked pleased with himself for getting that reaction. He really was dedicated to this friends with benefits thing, wasn’t he?

“I can stick around for round two, if you want,” he suggested, “unless you have too much work to do.”

"I don’t have much left to do, but how the hell am I supposed to concentrate on work now?" she mused.

Brock shrugged, grinning in answer. Asshat.

"Some friend you are,” she said, pursing her lips.

He just laughed, his eyes crinkling in that way she liked. Malia shook her head, finding herself smiling in response, but just pulled her sweatshirt over her head instead, ignoring the way her heart raced at the pure joy in Brock’s expression. He really was something special.

“If you’re serious about hanging around for round two, help yourself to anything in the kitchen and I’ll meet you in the bedroom. Shouldn’t be more than half an hour,” she said simply, sitting down in front of her laptop once more.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting,” he said, smiling easily at her.

She watched his bare body stroll out of the room, not knowing what to do with how much she liked how comfortable he was around her, until the ping of an email broke her out of her thoughts. Right, yes, work project. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could join him in her bed. Priorities.

Their friendship really did have its perks.

*

It had been well over a week since Malia managed to see Brock – he’d had a road trip on the first weekend of this stretch of not seeing each other but then, typically the day he arrived back to Vancouver, she’d been presented with a new project at work. The stress of the tight deadline consumed her completely, leaving her barely able to remember to eat regular meals let alone text him back. And sure, she felt bad, she really did – but that was the beauty of being fuck buddies, of having the casual relationship that they did. She wasn’t always going to be available. He definitely wasn’t always going to be available. But she knew that he would be there and ready to help her blow off some steam when her project was completed, and that was all that mattered.

After a long nine days of working far too many late nights, after she’d saved and sent the project on, Malia poured herself a large glass of wine. Perfect. The only thing that could make her evening better was having Brock there to celebrate with. And there was nothing stopping her from seeing if he was free, right? Subtly, of course.

So she took a picture of her wine glass, with her feet kicked up on the sofa and her closed laptop in the background, and sent it to him, with the simple message ‘finally finished my project x’.

His quick reply of ‘I’m on my way x’ melted away the last of the tension in her body.

By the time Brock stepped through her front door and hung up his jacket, Malia had long finished her glass of wine. What? It had been a long week and she deserved it. Well, after the plans she had for Brock anyway. She kissed him in greeting, slowly, softly, just long enough to ensure that Brock whimpered when she pulled away, sending a thrill through her body.

“I need to take a shower,” Malia said innocently, waiting until Brock’s smile fell slightly before smiling sharply, “Care to join me?”

“Fuck yes,” Brock breathed.

She laughed at the eagerness in his voice, making him blush slightly. That was the response she’d hoped for. Without saying another word, Malia turned on her heel and walked through the apartment to her bathroom, Brock trailing eagerly behind her, and the moment that the bathroom door shut behind him she stripped out of her clothes. He stood a little dumbstruck, just staring at her bare body, making her smirk slightly in gratification. Brock broke out of his stupor when she turned the shower on, blushing all over again, and he raced to strip his clothes off too as she stepped under the water.

Malia lost track of time as their wet bodies intertwined, gasps and moans filling the room just as much as the steam from the shower did, Brock easily bringing her to heights of pleasure that left her shaking. And sure, she did actually wash her hair with Brock’s help, but his strong hands had only led to round two. Not that she was complaining. With the glass of wine she’d had and now the multiple orgasms? She was well on the way to being fully relaxed after such a stressful week.

“Think you can handle another round?” Brock murmured, kissing her neck where he was standing behind her, as she wrapped a towel around her body.

Mm, what a thought. And hell yes, obviously.

“Can you handle another round?” she teased, passing him a towel of his own.

Brock just grinned, roughly drying his body, making her laugh softly. His eagerness never failed to amaze her – but she wasn’t going to complain about receiving the benefits of it. She kissed him again once he’d wrapped the towel around his waist, breath hitching in her throat at the familiar feeling of his large hands holding her tight, and her head swirled with the thoughts of all the things she wanted to do to him. To do with him. The possibilities were endless, and she didn’t want to waste any more time before he had to leave. Brock pouted when she broke the kiss, just making her laugh again, but the pout faded to a grin as she stepped around him to leave the bathroom. Malia smiled to herself as she heard him go after her, feeling a certain power in the fact that he followed her so easily, body thrumming with excitement already. But as she stepped through her bedroom doorway, Brock stopped walking, almost as if he froze in thought. 

“I’ll be back in just a second.”

He walked out of her bedroom before she could ask where he was going, making her frown. What the hell? Way to break the moment, Brock. She braided her hair in silence, tying it back to keep it out of her face, still frowning a little when he eventually returned, a small box in hand.

What the hell?

He saw the confused look on her face but just smiled, sitting down next to her on the bed. “I got you something.”

“What?” Malia said, baffled.

He’d never given her a gift before. She certainly hadn’t given him one. This wasn’t what friends with benefits did, not at all. What the fuck? But Brock just handed her the small box silently, still smiling, so she let out a soft huffed breath and carefully unwrapped it – but when she saw what he’d bought her, her breath hitched in her throat.

“You got me a new pair of airpods?” she said a little incredulously, looking over at him in confusion.

“Yeah! I know you like to listen to meditation podcasts before you go to bed after stressful workdays, but I know that you broke your old pair…so I got you a new set!” Brock nodded.

She opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again when no words came. It was a rare thing for her to be rendered speechless, but he’d damn well achieved it with this surprise. Airpods weren’t just a casual make-you-feel-better gift. What was he playing at? What was his end game here? Did he think he needed to buy her gifts like this, just because they were fuck buddies? No, no, that wasn’t Brock’s nature at all. He wasn’t that kind of guy, she knew that much – but why?

“Why did you buy them, Brock?” Malia eventually asked, not understanding. Where had this come from? He’d never done anything like this before – why now?

“I don’t know – I just saw them and thought of you,” he shrugged.

“Really?” she said, frowning slightly.

Brock huffed out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, making her raise an eyebrow. What was he thinking?

“It’s just…you’ve been so stressed this week, with work. When I saw them, I remembered you talking about breaking your last pair, and all I could think was that they would make you smile, especially to be able to wind down at the end of the day. Is that stupid?” he said a little sheepishly.

Oh bless him. The tension in her chest eased at the earnest look in her eyes. What an absolute sweetheart. He bought her a gift because he wanted to make her smile? And he remembered something she’d said in passing weeks ago? Malia ignored the niggles in the back of her mind screaming what the fuck and grinned up at him, earning a relieved smile back.

“It isn’t stupid at all, Brock. It’s really sweet, actually,” she said softly, still a little stunned.

He really thought about her when she wasn’t around?

“I’m glad you like it. I just wanted to make you feel better, you know?” Brock said happily, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

That’s what friends are for. Were they those kind of friends? Something twinged inside of her, something she wasn’t willing to explore at all, and again she firmly pushed it down until all she could feel was happiness. He’d done something so genuinely nice and sweet for her, without any kind of prompting, and there was no way she was going to let him think she didn’t appreciate that. No, she needed to bring back some balance, stop herself from feeling so off-kilter. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

“You know what friends are also for?” Malia said sweetly, echoing his words as she slid a hand over his towel-covered thigh, smiling sharply enough that a slight haze came over Brock’s eyes.

“W-what?” he said, before shaking his head as if to clear it.

She silently moved off the bed to kneel in between his thighs on the floor, tugging his towel free from his waist, and Brock’s only response was to moan in anticipation.

*

Another night, another text from Brock asking if she was free. Malia didn’t ever drop plans if she had them, or if she genuinely had work that she couldn’t afford to be distracted from, but she was free as a bird, and more than happy to drive over to his apartment to…reconnect. It had been a couple of weeks, okay? Road trips for him and late nights in the office for her – it all added up to not having that time to hook up, to release any tension, and she was more than happy to get tangled up in his bed again.

"Fuck, you don't know what you do to me," Brock groaned into her neck, nipping the skin enough to make her breath hitch in her throat.

“No-one else gets you off like that, huh?” Malia smirked, running a hand through her hair as she stretched extravagantly on his bedsheets, the sweat cooling on her skin.

“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he shrugged, lifting his head.

What?

Not that she was ‘seeing’ anyone else either…but, what?

“You’re not?” she asked, confused as she looked up at him.

“No? I figured things were so good and easy between us, that there was no reason to sleep with anyone else,” Brock said simply.

She searched his face, trying to figure out what game he was playing, but all she saw were those pretty blue eyes, sleepy but honest. There was nothing hidden in his words, was there? There was nothing but innocence. But to phrase it like he did? That he wasn’t seeing anyone else? Did he really not know what he implied when he said those words? Not even a little bit?

“Huh,” was all she managed to say, sitting upright for the first time in hours.

Brock’s easy expression clouded a little and he got up on his knees, shuffling over to where she was sitting legs over the side of his bed to sit behind her. She didn’t realise how tense her body was until his body was supporting hers, soft and vulnerable and gentle, and she tilted her head to the side with a small smile as he pressed slow kisses into her skin.

“Everything good?” he asked, nipping her earlobe.

Her breath hitched in her throat again, making him laugh, so she smacked his thigh lightly, only earning more laughter. But as she turned around to look at him properly, she saw the concern still lingering on his face.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Brock,” she nodded.

Everything was fine, right? It had to be. She couldn’t afford for it not to be. So why did his words affect her like they did?

Malia was able to keep her composure until she left his apartment, desperately grateful that she had driven over instead of taking an Uber because it allowed her the freedom to let her face do whatever the fuck it wanted to, rather than having to keep a neutral mask over her expression. As she drove the familiar route home, she mostly let the motions of driving consume her thoughts, not fully letting herself get lost in the emotions that were threatening to boil over, but as soon as she parked her car and walked up to her own apartment, she let those thoughts finally swirl.

Thoughts of Brock.

Thoughts of their friends with benefits arrangement.

Thoughts of how it had all started to change without her realising.

“I’m not seeing anyone else.”

Why would he phrase it like that? What did that even mean? Was she reading too much into it? Maybe she was – maybe Brock hadn’t meant anything by his choice of words at all…so why was she getting caught up on that? Why did his words make her stumble like that? Only a couple of weeks prior, she had been luxuriating in the happy ease of their friends with benefits arrangement, thriving in the lack of anything more…so why had his choice of words sent that spiralling?

The more she let herself linger on it, now curled up on her sofa, the worse her thoughts scrambled. Why did she care so much? Why did she care whether Brock meant one thing or another? What did it matter? Everything between them was great as it was, so why would she want to change that? There really wasn’t any point in stressing herself out by wondering about underlying meanings, or hidden words, or even unspoken possibilities. No, their friends with benefits situation was perfect exactly as it was.

But could it be more?

No, hoping wishing thinking of more was a dangerous road to travel down, and she couldn’t bear doing it knowing it would be a fruitless endeavour. No, what she and Brock had between them was all she needed, and that’s all it could be. That’s all it could be, right?

*

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Malia grinned at the familiar body pressing up behind her, allowing the crush of the dance floor to give her the excuse to lean her back up against his chest, smiling as his hands moved to cover her hips.

“Wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” she said, tilting her head up to look at Brock properly.

She smiled at the strobe lights flashing around them, all the different colours pulsing over his glorious hair. She’d had just enough to drink to allow herself to admire how pretty he was. But only just. That was a dangerous line to tiptoe along, she knew that much. It was her easy weakness for him that led her to texting him as she arrived at the club, hoping to see him before she headed off for her conference the next day, and it was her easy weakness for him that had her body lighting up at his casual touch.

“As if I could refuse an invite from you. The boys didn’t take much convincing to come out either,” Brock said, huffing out a laugh against her neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin.

Good to know. It was enough to erase the tension in her body for now, anyway.

“You should come home with me tonight,” he added, the gentle murmur into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

She luxuriated in it, grinding against him a little, earning the moan she loved. “Like I wasn’t a sure thing.”

“I never want to assume,” he said.

“What?” she asked, frowning over her shoulder at him.

Brock just smiled at her, making her frown a little harder. She didn’t understand him, or his actions. Malia turned around in his arms, sliding her arms up around his neck as he slid a thigh between her legs, so she could look up at his beautiful face, trying to figure out what was going on in his head.

"I didn't think I'd see you until you got back from your work trip anyway," he said, “So this is a bonus.”

Malia shrugged. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

What? It was true. She knew things were swirling in her heart, dangerous forbidden feelings, and she wanted to take as much as she could before everything fell apart. Because her life wasn’t a movie or a fairytale – she knew what was coming. All she could hope was to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

"One for the road?" Brock asked, smirking slightly.

And there it was. Still oblivious to everything that he did to her. But Malia just laughed softly, ducking her head. "Yeah, something like that.”

Brock grinned.

She lost herself in the motion of his body, letting the bass beat of the music flow through her, moving with a freedom that Brock matched easily. It felt so easy, so natural, so right, and took every last ounce of her self-control to not let it consume her. It was perfect, so perfect, and she was already dreading the day when she couldn’t have it anymore. When she could no longer feel his touch anymore. But that day had not yet come, and she wasn’t going to let her defeated thoughts ruin what was going to be an amazing night. No, she was going to enjoy the way his arms were wrapped around her, how his thighs were pressed between hers, how his body moved in sync with her own, and nothing was going to stop that.

After a while, who knows how long, but long enough for her thighs to ache and her mouth to be dry, Brock stepped away from Malia lightly, threading one hand with hers as he tilted his head away from the dancefloor and raised an invisible glass to his mouth, the universal unspoken sign for drinks? She bit her lip, not really wanting this moment on the dancefloor to end, but eventually nodded, earning a bright smile from Brock that made her stomach fill with useless butterflies. Brock, as always seemed to be completely oblivious to the effect he had on her, just leading Malia through the dancefloor crowd without another word. In turn, she followed him wordlessly, letting her stupid heart guide her motions, until they reached the bar area and Brock made a soft sound of surprise.

“I thought you’d already left,” a dry voice said, “Looks like I owe Quinn $20.”

“Hey bud! We were just on the dancefloor,” Brock said cheerfully, “Better pay up!”

Brock dropped her hand to bro-hug the guy standing at one of the small standing tables near the bar, leaving her standing there a little awkwardly until Brock let go of his friend and tucked her into his side with an arm over her shoulder. It almost felt a little possessive…but why? He’d never acted like that before?

“So you must be Malia.”

She took one look at the guy standing next to her and smiled slightly. White blonde hair, thin yet strangely pretty face, European accent. Swedish? Yes, it had to be Elias. Or Petey, as Brock’s prior tipsy ramblings had told her over the past few months.

“And you must be Petey,” Malia smiled back at him.

The man in question just smiled, tilting his head in acknowledgement. So very different from Brock…and yet that soft solid friendship was obvious in their body language. Huh. It was nice to see in person, to be honest.

“Petey, be nice to Malia while I get us a round of drinks?” Brock teased.

“I am always nice,” Elias said shortly, making Malia grin, “Buy me a shot.”

Malia just laughed at Brock’s fond face, nodding when he raised an eyebrow at her in a silent question. She could handle another shot or two before she lost her self-restraint, she knew that much. Brock wasted no time in striding over to the bar, stepping in between people to get the bartender’s attention with an ease only he could pull off. But Malia made the mistake of letting her gaze linger on Brock’s enigmatic figure, that smile that makes her knees weak, lingering long enough that she heard Elias sigh beside her.

“What?” she frowned.

“I hate to say it, but Brock is a bit of an idiot sometimes,” Elias said simply.

What?

“We’re just friends,” Malia said, a little hesitantly.

Without being able to stop herself, her eyes flicked back over to Brock, getting caught yet again on his bright smile. Elias followed her eyeline and rolled his eyes.

“Just friends?” he mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, so there are some great benefits with our friendship,” she added, unable to stop a smile spreading across her lips as she turned her attention back to him.

Elias smirked a little back but soon shook his head, making her frown slightly.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” he pushed.

What was he doing? Why was he trying to insinuate that there was anything more going on?

“We agreed no strings,” she eventually said.

“Uh huh,” Elias said simply.

Dick. Now she knew why Brock was fond of him.

“If he wanted more, he would’ve said it by now,” Malia added, narrowing her eyes.

“Maybe. Or he’s just so happy he’s getting laid regularly that he doesn’t even think that more could be a possibility,” Elias said dryly.

What?

“You’re kidding,” Malia said incredulously.

Like, seriously, what?

Elias huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I wish I was. Brock might be a soft romantic kind of guy, but he is a complete dumbass at the best of times, and I say that with love.”

She blew out a slow breath, mind still rolling at the revelation. Was it possible? Could Brock really not have even considered it, considered something more between them?

“Three shots each, let’s go!”

Brock’s cheerful announcement broke Malia out of her thoughts, and she just stayed silent as she reached for a shot glass, ignoring Elias’s eyes burning into her as she drank her first shot. What the fuck just happened. Why would he…what was he even gaining by telling her any of that? There wasn’t even any proof that he was telling the truth, right? And surely, if any of it was true, Brock would’ve said something, right? She would’ve been able to tell, right?

Surely Brock couldn’t be that much of a dumbass, right?

“Another?” Elias asked, cutting through her thoughts.

Malia smiled sharply, lifting a glass in salute, downing it in unison with him, Brock finishing only just behind them.

“Oh man, I regret these shots already,” Brock groaned.

“You ordered them,” Elias snorted, rolling his eyes fondly.

Malia shrugged, silently agreeing with Elias, offering Brock a soft smile that brightened his face up in response. He really was so sweet, wasn’t he?

“Some friends you are,” Brock grumbled, his grin betraying his lack of real annoyance.

Friends. Hah. His words cut into Malia like a sharp knife, reminding her of what the situation really was, but she just kept that smile on her face anyway. She ignored Elias rolling his eyes before taking his third shot, and relaxed into Brock’s body as he slid his arm around her waist. She could enjoy it for a little longer, right?

As time floated by, more people joined them and some drifted away again, Malia stayed tucked into Brock’s side, having that third shot as well as another vodka lime soda, just talking with him as well as to the small group around them. It was…nice. But it was also something that they never did, mixing with others before heading out to hook up, so it left her a little unsettled, even more so with Elias’s words.

Eventually, Brock cleared his throat and pressed a kiss to her cheek to get her attention.

“Ready to get out of here?” Brock murmured into her ear.

Against her better judgement, and the raised eyebrow of Elias, she smiled and nodded, earning a sweet smile from Brock in return. He wasted no time in collecting their jackets, keeping his arm around her waist even in the uber back to her apartment, all the way until he pressed her bare body into her bed.

After, when their bodies were glistening with sweat and her bedsheets were a mess, Malia felt herself sighing as Brock nuzzled at her neck, his scruff leaving a delicious blazing trail over her sensitive skin, no traitorous thoughts filling her head at all.

“Mm, down boy,” she murmured, smiling as he huffed out a laugh and lifted his head up to look at her.

“I know you’ve got an early flight, so I’ll get out of your hair,” Brock said sweetly.

Malia just stayed silent as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder before getting out of bed. That cold feeling, that emptiness, immediately came rushing back and she felt sick for realising that Elias was right – Brock was completely oblivious to how he was acting. Oblivious to how she felt. But then again…maybe he really didn’t want anything more. She had no actual proof that Brock was interested in anything other than the no strings agreement they’d set, despite Elias insisting on his lack of awareness. No, she was so stupid to let herself hope. Why was she bothering to ruin a good thing?

“I’ll see you when you’re back?” Brock asked hopefully.

She forced a smile onto her face, trying to make it as genuine as possible. “Yeah, of course.”

Brock’s smile stretched into a grin, and he left her apartment without another word. Malia took a deep breath, trying to ignore how shaky it was, before shaking her head firmly. This was getting stupid. Friends with benefits, that’s what they agreed. Nothing more, no strings. Brock didn’t want anything more than that, and she had to find a way to get back to that too. It meant nothing.

She tried to ignore the way her heart clenched at that.

*

Conferences were not Malia’s favourite pastime - she would happily and openly admit that. All the networking and speeches and plastering a smile onto her face had left her exhausted, and it was only the first day. Thankfully, she’d been able to escape after the dinner that had been organised, and she’d wasted no time in hopping into a quick shower, easing the knots in her shoulders and the tension that her high-ponytail had left on her scalp. Only two more days and then she could go home. She could handle that, right? Staying away from the comfort of her own home, living out of a suitcase, no - she didn’t know how Brock did it every other week. 

And then her phone started ringing.

Brock.

It was as if he was reading her mind. Hah. As if.

“Hey handsome, I was just thinking about you,” she said teasingly.

“Well that’s what I like to hear. So…how is the conference?”

Malia huffed out a laugh, shaking her head, her damp hair falling over her shoulders. “Are you really calling me to ask how my conference is going?” she mused.

“Busted. I thought it could be fun, you know, to…”

He trailed off, as if embarrassed, and she could almost picture him rubbing his neck like he always did when he felt anxious. It was just another endearing thing about him, to add to that long list that tortured her on a daily basis.

“To what, Brock?” she teased.

“Phone sex?”

She didn’t even have the energy to laugh at his blurting, her jaw dropping slightly instead. They had never done that before. Not on his roadtrips, not on nights when they weren’t at each other’s apartments. What changed? Why was he instigating it all of a sudden?

“Mal?”

Malia shook her head, breaking out of her thoughts. That was dangerous territory. “So I just got out of the shower…what are you wearing?” she grinned.

It felt like no time at all until she was crying out his name, her back arching off the bed. When her heart had calmed down from racing, when Brock’s breathing was no longer ragged panting, she found herself smiling, taking the call off speakerphone to hold her phone back to her ear again. Fuck. That was so good. Of course it was good, it was Brock, but damn.

“We both agree that phone sex was a good idea, right?”

She laughed at Brock’s words, stretching her legs luxuriously across the hotel bed sheets.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll give you this one,” she mused.

“I never realised how easy friends with benefits could be.”

And just like that, her heart froze. Fuck. Why did that simple phrase make an icy wave wash over her, when it was true? It was all their situation was, she knew that – and this more than anything proved to her that Elias was wrong.

So why did it make her ache like nothing ever had before? What was she even thinking?

“Yeah. Friends. So easy,” she murmured.

“Mal?”

No, it was not the right time. She was just away from home, that was all. The change in location was just messing with her head. She couldn’t afford to mess this up any further than it already was.

“Nothing, nothing. I’d better go – I need to get my beauty sleep before heading to the conference tomorrow morning,” she said, as cheerfully as she could.

“Ah yeah of course, I won’t keep you then.”

Malia bit her bottom lip, squeezing her eyes tight, trying to calm her traitorous heart.

“I miss you.”

Oh fuck. What was wrong with him? Why did he think that was okay to say?

“Yeah me too. See you soon,” she said softly.

Before any more damage could be done, Malia ended the call, tossing her phone to the foot of her bed as tears stung at her eyes. That was not friends with benefits, no matter how good it was to hear. That was more, and she knew that Brock didn’t mean it like that. So as good as the phone sex was, knowing how it felt to still be brought to dizzying heights of pleasure by Brock despite not even being in the same state as him? Knowing she’d get that kind of reaction from him? No, she couldn’t do it – not to herself, and not to him. She had to be stronger than that, for both of their sakes.

*

Two weeks. That’s all the time that Malia managed to stay away from Brock after her conference ended before she finally answered a text of his with something other than ‘sorry I’m working late’. And yes, some of those times she had been working - but definitely not most of them. She didn’t just miss his body; sure, those big strong arms and broad shoulders and fantastic cock and delicious abs were always highlights of her week. No, she missed everything else too – the way those arms would hold her, close and tight and warm, the way he would run his hand through his hair when he was nervous or sheepish about something, sweet and sensitive and self-aware, and the way his smile would make her heart skip a beat. Oh her heart, it had ached for him in the two weeks she had desperately tried to hold back, that much was sure. Stupid, traitorous heart. At the end of the day, it was the way her heart ached worse without him than with him that made up her mind.

So she’d answered his text, agreeing to go over to his apartment, and within 5 minutes of her stepping through his front door, she was naked in his bed. It was easy to lose herself in his kisses, the touch of his hands, the way he filled her so perfectly, and she lost herself over and over and over again, completely consumed by the fire ignited between them. It was everything and yet she had to remind herself that it was nothing. Nothing at all to him. As the empty ache started to fill her chest while their sweat cooled on their bodies, Malia found herself at a loss for words, desperate not to say goodbye but not wanting to break her own heart even further.

And then Brock had insisted on her staying, and that they should order in some takeout.

In the afterglow, she’d agreed, but as she sat on the sofa in a pair of his sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt , and he poured her a second glass of wine (they’d both had the first glass of wine with the Italian food he’d ordered for dinner), she couldn’t help but feel like something was different. They’d never done that before – lingered, stayed around, ate dinner together. Certainly not with his gorgeous dogs Coolie and Milo sitting at the other end of the L-shaped sofa. It was intimate and sweet and romantic – and they’d never done that before.

Never.

As he sat down next to her on the sofa, glass in hand, it was all she could do to take a deep drink of her wine to steady herself, his smile sweet but shy almost. Shy? It was a little unnerving, if she was being honest, but with the hesitation and anxiety clear in his expression, his body language, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything – because it looked like he wanted to. And who was she to deny him expressing himself?

But he stayed silent, taking his own mouthful of wine, and it only set her more on edge. What was going on? Why was he acting so differently?

“Mal, I just-”

He cut himself off with a sigh, making her smile softly at his obvious frustration, until he roughly put his wine glass down on the coffee table, his hand flexing. Seriously, what was going on?

“What’s going through that head of yours, Brock Boeser?” she mused, trying to lighten the tension rolling off his body in waves, “You know you can tell me anything.”

It took a beat or two until Brock looked into her eyes properly, a wry smile on his face. “I think I’d rather just show you.”

And with that, he took her glass from her hand too, putting it down next to his.

The kiss was expected, but the warmth wasn't.

It's not that their kisses were always desperate or heated or even rough, though they often were, but it was different, just like the whole evening had been. It was different in how he cupped her jaw, his other hand resting softly on her waist, holding her closely against him. He kissed her softly, sweetly, gently coaxing her mouth open so he could deepen the kiss, tilted her head so he could slide his tongue against hers, sending sparks down her spine. They’d kissed hundreds and hundreds of times, over the months of whatever-the-hell their relationship was, but their bodies were charged with something else.

There was no denying it.

Something was different with Brock and it was freaking her out and she couldn’t handle it.

She broke the kiss and closed her eyes, overwhelmed and trying not to show it. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt both his hands rest hesitantly on her shoulders. What had started all those months before as a care-free confident flirtation, an easy friends-with-benefits agreement to blow off steam, had digressed into this swirling mess of anxiety and hesitant emotions, and Malia didn’t know where to go from there. How was she supposed to move forward? Everything was falling apart and she couldn’t control the downward spiral in the slightest. It wasn’t fair.

"Look at me, Mal. Please?” he murmured.

It took her a moment, a few desperately needed seconds, but she eventually opened her eyes, his concerned face filling her vision. Even the dogs were sitting upright, looking at her with tilted heads, only making her feel worse.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, voice soft and gentle.

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine,” she said, shaking her head rapidly.

Liar.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, “You’re 10 seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack and you think I can’t tell when you’re not yourself? You’re my friend, Mal, come on.”

My friend. There was the kicker, wasn’t it? He’d never been able to tell how she felt about anything before, so why would that have changed?

Malia stayed silent, desperately trying to think of something to say at the same time as trying to hold herself together, and she was failing on both fronts. How had her steady control failed her? How had it all fallen apart so quickly? Because everything had fallen apart, there was no denying it; her hands were shaking, her eyes were pricking with tears, and her heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

She loved him. She loved him with everything she had, and there was no denying it anymore. Because she had him in her bed, in her life, and she didn't want to lose that just because her stupid feelings would make things awkward. They went into this arrangement as strangers to become friends with benefits, with no strings tying them to each other and no expectations, yet here she was, her heart acting like a complete traitor. But what could she do? Brock pulled back slightly to look down at her, and she knew something was showing in her face because his frown deepened.

"Malia..." he said quietly, looking at her like he knew.

But how could he know? There was no way.

"I'm fine, it's nothing," she said again.

But there was no pretending that it wasn’t a lie this time. She wasn't willing to lose him, she knew that much, even if it meant pretending everything was normal, that it wasn’t tearing her heart into shreds every time he smiled at her with such affection.

"I know this doesn't mean anything,” she added, her voice cracking slightly.

This doesn’t mean anything. Fuck, there it was. In that simple little statement, she betrayed everything, didn’t she? Fuck that stupid voice crack told him everything he needed to know about how she felt and she felt sick.

"Mal," he says softly, again, making her heart throb.

How many more times could he say her name and break her heart just that little bit more? But without saying anything else, his hands slid up from her shoulders to rest gently on the sides of her throat, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones.

"This does mean something," he murmured.

What?

He kissed her softly before she could question him, head swirling and body weak and it felt like all she could do was burst. What did he mean? Surely he couldn’t mean…what? His lips were still brushing hers when he added, "This means everything."

The tears stinging at her eyes started to trickle down her cheeks, and she just shook her head as Brock made a soft sad noise, thumb ineffectively brushing a tear away.

“Don’t do this to me,” she whispered.

“Do what?” he asked, confused.

Make her feel like she had a chance.

Tear apart the fragile strings holding her feelings together.

Break her heart even more.

“Give me hope,” she eventually said.

Brock made another sad noise, and this time he shook his head. “I swear, Mal, baby, I mean it. I’ve been so stupid, not realising what I was doing to you.”

Fuck, no. Not that. That’s the last thing she wanted.

“Don’t say it just because you think I want to hear it,” she hissed, knocking his hands away to dry her cheeks herself.

His lips parted in shock, just briefly, as he seemed to process her words. But then his eyes went wide and he held his hands up in protest, shaking his head again. “I swear, it’s not that. I would never do that. I never thought that we could have more than just buddies. I mean it, I didn’t even think. But now that I know I could have more with you? That you would want that with me?”

Brock trailed off, eyes wide as he blew out a slow breath, but his words held all the implication she needed. Was it real? It wasn’t a dream, right? Something about to turn into a horrible nightmare?

“Brock…” she murmured, a little helplessly.

“Please tell me I’m not too late?” he asked, “Mal, please?”

The desperate tone in his voice, paired with the earnest look in his eyes finished her off. He meant it. He really meant it. But why had he never shown this before? What changed? Why now? She needed to know, or it would drive her crazy.

“Why now? Why after all this time?” she asked, trying to keep her composure.

Brock’s cheeks flushed deeply then, piquing her interest. What? She raised an eyebrow, making him grimace slightly.

“Okay, so, I might have had my ass kicked a little by Petey. Verbally, that is. I knew something was wrong but he basically laid into me when I was confused why you sounded sad at the end of our phone call during your work conference trip.”

Well, shit. That’d do it, the meddling asshole. Affectionately called so, of course, but still. She’d have to send him at least a fruit basket, she knew that much.

He’s just so happy he’s getting laid regularly that he doesn’t even think that more could be a possibility. That’s what Elias had said that night, wasn’t it? After all the time she’d spent convincing herself that Elias had no idea what he was talking about…he’d been right the whole time? Brock really had been that much of a dumbass, not seeing what was happily in front of him?

Malia could help the laugh that bubbled out of her throat, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. “Oh Brock, seriously?”

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, before he shrugged. “He pointed out some things to me. Possibilities. Opportunities that I’d missed. Options that I didn’t know existed because I was living in this happy little bubble and I had no idea how much I was hurting you. I know I’ve been a dumbass. I just didn’t realise it until it was almost too late.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Malia admitted, although she knew how pathetic that sounded.

Because it was a bit pathetic, as honest as she was being. Short of a massive messy situation that left her with no choice, she would have clung on until she was reduced to just scraps of dignity. She hadn’t realised how strong his power was over her until it was too late. That was how badly he affected her. That was how much of a hold he had on her heart.

“That’s not good enough. You deserve better than that,” Brock said firmly.

He really meant that, didn’t he? Had he finally clued in? Was he finally ready to give her his whole heart, like he had hers?

“Is that so?” she said lightly, trying to keep her cool.

The sappy smile that Brock sent her way, made all of her final defences melt away. This man was a weapon – if he only knew how dangerous he really could be, she dreaded to think how much trouble she could be in. Or maybe that was just him – sweet, soft, genuine, and a little bit dumb. But it wasn’t like she didn’t have a type; Brock fit it like a glove.

“Let me make it up to you? Let me show you how much I don’t want us to be just friends with benefits anymore?” he murmured.

Fuck.

Malia was already convinced of how she felt, she knew that. She didn’t need anything fancy, not dinners or flowers or jewellery, or anything if she was being honest. Just knowing that he felt for her like she felt for him was enough. She didn’t need it…but maybe he did. That alone was enough for her to nod in agreement.

“Yeah, okay. Impress me, Brock Boeser,” she said, grinning.

Brock just grinned back at her, making her shiver with all the possibilities.

#my writing #brock boeser fic #fwb to lovers #brock boeser fanfic #brock boeser x oc #brock boeser imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #hwn cloud

[boqvistsbabe]

hey girl👋🏻 could you maybe do one with brock where you are taking you babygirl (mayber her names winnie or willa) to meet the team and their so’s for the first time since you‘ve had her? thanks in advance and if not it‘s also totally cool!

A/N: Lol finally doing this one after it’s been sitting in my inbox for months. I apologize it took so long for me to do, school got busy and I got unmotivated for writing. I’m finally in the mood to write and what better than to do this on Father’s Day!! Hopefully I actually get it done by then, if not I’ll post it the day after. (I was writing this intro part today which is Wednesday) Anyways I hope you like it :) (here’s a little moodboard to go with it)

Word Count: 1,105 (short I know 💀)

Warnings: reader is portrayed as a female and there is mentions of pregnancy other than that I don’t think anything else other than probably some swear words (if there’s anything I missed let me know plz)

FYI: unedited and probably some pretty shitty writing also it’s formatted weird cause I did this on my phone and I didn’t want to push off posting it so I didn’t fix it. Also this is lowkey really shitty especially with how much time it took to write. Also plz take mercy on me and my dialogue, it has never been my strong suit 💀

Also special thanks to @savoies who helped with this and to keep my motivation up while I was writing it <3

—————————————

Everyone has been excited for the arrival of your daughter. Most of all Brock. He couldn’t wait to have his baby girl to hang out with and show off. The guys couldn’t wait either, they were so excited to be uncles again.

It had been two weeks since the birth of your baby girl. Two very long weeks of waking up throughout the night for both you and Brock. You had decided you were ready enough to go out into the world. And the boys were chomping at the but to meet little Willa. Brock was ready to introduce her to the guys too.

That’s how you found yourself in the backseat next to your sleeping daughter. You were still pretty nervous about her in the car, so you decided to ride in the back with her.

Not too long later you and Brock were walking up the front steps of Bo and Holly Horvat’s house. After knocking on the door Brock readjusted the strap of the baby bag so it wouldn’t fall off of his shoulder. Seconds later Holly was opening the door with a big smile on her face.

“Hey guys! Come on in, everyone is back in the living room!” She ushers both of you through the door, leaning over to give you a side hug as you walk by.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask her after leaning back from the hug.

“Pretty good! But I feel like I should be the one asking you that.” You both laugh as you catch up on the walk to the living room.

You and Brock are almost immediately surrounded by the other WAGs and a few of the guys; all trying to get a peak of little Willa.

That’s until Holly tells them all to give you space and let you get settled before they crowd you.

You get comfortable in one of the armchairs with Willa in your arms and Brock sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. When you let them know you’re ready for them, the WAGs starts coming up in pairs to meet her. Those that want to hold her sit on the couch and you keep a close eye on them, but they all do fine. Which you expected them to be like that, it was the boys that you were worried about. Not that any of them would purposely do anything, but they could get pretty rowdy when excited.

The guys meeting her went on without a hitch, thankfully. You were worried there for a second when JT decided to get up and walk with her in his arms.

Brock was holding her now and Thatcher and Elias were on either side of him. You were relaxing and chatting with Holly and Elias’ girlfriend Anna, while everyone else was mingling about. There hadn’t been a get together in a while.

When you looked up next Thatcher was holding little Willa and talking to the guys.

“So Thatcher, whatcha think, you ready for your own?” Holly calls over to him.

He looks over to where his fiancé Lex is and shrugs before responding, “I don’t know about how she feels about it but I’m definitely down after holding this little one. She’s fucking adorable.”

You and the other two WAGs laugh when Elias reaches around Brock to smack the back of Thatcher’s head with a hushed, “ Don’t say bad words in front of her!”

Seconds later Willa is getting handed off to her Uncle Elias. You don’t think Brock had officially let him know that he is her Godfather, because you know you have definitely forgotten to tell Anna that she’s the Godmother.

“Hey Brock have you told him yet?” You ask, referring to the whole godfather thing you were just thinking about.

“Huh, what? Oh wait that? Yeah no I haven’t.” Brock answers before turning to Elias and saying, “Hey Petey you’re Willa’s godfather just so you know.”

You turn to Anna before saying, “ You’re also her godmother. I was planning on telling you in a more special way, but that changed about five seconds ago.” You laughed a little when Anna wrapped her arms around you in a gentle hug.

“Thank you so much for trusting me, us , with that.” She looks back over at Elias who’s smiling at Anna before looking back at Willa.

Then Anna leans over to whisper in your ear, “ This is not helping my baby fever whatsoever, so thanks for that.”

You laugh before responding, “Hey you can always ask, I’m sure he’s down whenever.”

“Not a horrible idea, but I’ll let you have your moment for now.” She winks at you before getting up to grab a new drink with Holly.

You look over at Brock who’s already looking at you. He shoots you a soft smile before turning back to Elias to take Willa from his arms. Then he walks over to you and hands her back to you, knowing you were missing her a little. When you look down at her she yawns with that tiny little mouth of hers and snuggling closer to you. Brock leans down to press a kiss to her head before pressing one to the top of yours.

“Thatch is right, she is fucking adorable.” He whispers to you.

“That she is. Is Elias happy about being her godfather?” You look up at him as you ask this. You were pretty sure he would be, but you wanted to make sure.

“He’s ecstatic. And had offered to babysit only about a thousand times in the ten minutes he was holding her. He already loves her almost as much as we do.”

“I’m glad to here that.” You really were. Leaning into Brock a little more you shut your eyes. You were getting more tired as the afternoon went on. Brock wraps his arm around you and starts running his hand up and down your arm. His head is leaning on top of yours, trying to be as close as he can.

Seconds later you hear, “ Aren’t you three just so precious?” Before you open your eyes to see some of the guys, at least two with their phones out. You flip off the camera - and the guys before Holly and Bo shoo them.

Later on in the night you find yourself out on the patio talking with the girls and holding Willa under the pretty lights Holly hung up at the beginning of summer. Brock and the guys were playing catch, some of them drinking and some not. All in all you would say it was a pretty successful day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[nolanscheeks]

Non-Covid Illness (BB)

So I was supposed to go to the Canucks game against the Jets with my boyfriend but instead he decided it would be more fun to get BODIED by the flu. While he spent the day on the couch in a fever haze I saw that Brock and Petey are also getting bodied by the flu so I thought up this. Its extremely loosely based on real life (ie Brock being out sick) and very heavily based on the past few days with my boyfriend. Needless to say I am manifesting health for my love, Brock, Petey and the rest of us. So wash your hands, (wear a mask if thats your vibe, get your flu shot (if that’s your vibe), sleep, and take your vitamins because OH MY GAWD you do not want this flu, it is awful. 

Enjoy:)

-

To say it had been a rough season for the Canucks so far would be an understatement. The highs had been essentially non-existent and the lows had been pretty low. The whole team was suffering but the player who seemed to be getting the brunt of it was your boyfriend. Brock had been absent to start the season due to injury, then missed another chunk of time when he re-injured himself, and through it all had been bombarded with trade speculations and even an attempted healthy scratch. Worst of all, here he was finally uninjured and getting his groove back and now he was sick. Not the ‘feeling rundown, got a cold in’ kind of sick everyone gets this time of year. He was the ‘fever, can’t move, want to curl up and die’ kind of sick. 

Brock had left for Calgary on Wednesday morning in a great mood, excited for the one game trip against the Flames and then a few days off to start the Christmas festivities with you and your family. You’d actually been on FaceTime with your mom and brother, figuring out a time everyone could go to the Christmas market, when Brock’s call came through.

 The moment you accepted his call and his face filled the screen, you could tell he was off. He told you that he’d felt off since he’d woken up, not hungry and slow during morning skate, and then it was downhill from there. Brock said he’d gone down for his pre-game nap and then couldn’t will himself to get out of bed after it. He texted the trainer who came and took a look at him, told him he had a fever, gave him Tylenol and left him with instructions to ‘sleep it off’. You sympathized as needed and stayed on the call with him until he inevitably nodded off again. Elias delivered Brock to you later that night and the sight of your boyfriend visibly shivering, despite his jacket and hat, broke your heart. He didn’t  kiss you ‘hello’, like he always did, or even greet the dogs. He just pushed past you and beelined it for bed, shoes and all. You’d looked at Elias, concern written all over your face. “He’s doing bad” was all he said, giving you Brock’s bag. You thanked him and went to the bedroom to help Brock undress, or at least take his shoes off which was all he was willing to do. You’d gone to bed hoping he was going through the worst of it now and would feel better in the morning but the next few days showed you that was wishful thinking. 

The doctor had come to see him Thursday evening and tested him for a bunch of things, hoping they could prescribe something to get him back on his feet but Brock was shit out of luck. The only test that came back positive was the flu so there was nothing to do but wait for his body to fight it. Of course, he could go to the hospital if he got too ill but so far you’d been able to keep his fever down and he was taking in fluids so the doctor didn’t think it was necessary. 

So here you were, Friday midday and the big event for the day was Brock moving from the bed to the couch. He was on his side somewhere between asleep and awake, unconscious but not alert either, when you kneeled in front of him. 

“Hey” you breathed out, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. You really didn’t want to disturb him but it was time for more Advil and he needed to drink something.

“Hi” he whispered back, opening his eyes to look at you. The look in his eyes physically hurt you. They were usually so bright and lit up when he saw you, but now they looked glazed over. Glassy with fever and dull with exhaustion.

“Time to do drugs” you joked trying to lighten the mood, as you rattled the pill bottle in front of him. 

“I hope you got the good kind” he chuckled weakly, pushing himself into a seated position. 

“Only the bed for you baby” you said, giving him the 2 pills and following it up with a Gatorade. “Got these bad boys from the best dealer in town.”

“Whole Foods?” he guessed, taking them and continuing to sip the Gatorade after you motioned for it.

“Shoppers” you corrected. 

“Cheapo” he teased, laying back down. Now it was your turn to let out a small chuckle. If anyone was cheap, it was Brock. You transferred from the floor so you were sitting next to him on the edge of the couch. You brushed his hair out of his face, twisting some of it around your fingers. He was still warm and kind of clammy like he’d been since Elias had dropped him off. You sighed, pissed at whatever monster strain of Influenza was absolutely kicking your professional athlete boyfriend’s ass and a little disappointed you guys had missed out on the Christmas market with your family.

“What?” he asked, turning his head to look up at you. 

“I’m just so sorry you’re sick like this.” 

“Believe me, I don’t like it either but it was my turn” he grabbed your hand from his hair and kissed it sweetly. Brock held your hand for another minute before letting go and letting his eyes close once again. 

You stood up, collecting the bottle of Advil you’d put on the ground and went to make your way back to the kitchen when you heard Brock say something muffled.

“What was that, B?” you asked.

“Make sure you wash your hand” he repeated, shoving his face back in the blanket. You cracked a smile, he’d been so cute reminding you to wash your hands, like that was going to make the difference when you guys were sleeping in the same bed and the night before he’d literally been laying on you.  

You made your way to the kitchen looking for something to occupy yourself with while Brock slept. You decided you may as well start making dinner, maybe you could bully Brock into eating something more substantial than the third of a smoothie he’d managed today. The doctor had emphasized the importance of nutrition to your guys during his visit but Brock was struggling to eat much of anything right now. You’d even offered to get him sushi or pizza but he’d had no interest. He was drinking at least.

An hour or so later, you had the chicken noodle soup you’d prepped simmering on the stove when you heard Brock’s phone start to buzz. 

“Sup Petey” Brock answered, clicking ‘speaker’ on the call.

“Boes” came Elias’ voice, rougher than normal, “I am ill.”

“Fuck,” Brock slapped his hand over his face; “I’m sorry man. Didn’t mean to get you sick.”

“Not your fault” Elias conceded. You heard him sigh into the phone. “I should’ve been nicer to you after the Flames. This is terrible. I might die.”

“When did you start feeling sick?” Brock asked.

“Yesterday” Elias answered, “today is so much worse.”

“Yeah. I got bad news for you, I’m still dead so you’ve got a bit to go.”

You giggled, of course they were still joking with each other despite feeling so bad. 

“Keep your flu to yourself next time” Elias scolded. 

“I’ll try” Brock said, and then “seriously though, I’m sorry I got you sick bro, it really sucks.”

“You better be. Bruce and all of Vancouver are going to be mad at you if I am not healed by tomorrow.” Elias teased good naturedly. Brock sighed audibly and then they bid each other goodbye. You returned to the spot on the couch where you had been before, cupping his cheek with your hand. His skin still felt too warm and you were beginning to worry about his ability to play in the next night’s game, as well as Elias’. 

Brock must have read your mind because he spoke softly; “I hope I feel better tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “But if you don’t you don’t and you take another day.” 

He nodded at that, letting you continue to caress his cheek. 

“Are you hungry? I made soup and it should be ready soon?” you asked.

“Not really,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “I should probably eat though.”

“Definitely a good idea. Maybe some water or Gato too.”

“Oh my god, Y/N. You did not just call it Gato” Brock laughed, sounding exasperated. You returned the giggle and then stood up, reaching a hand out to help him up. As you walked with him to the kitchen you thought he might be starting to turn the corner towards wellness. He had been joking with you earlier about the Advil, was joking with you now, and he did look steadier on his feet. Plus he was willingly making his way to the kitchen for food. You decided to take this all as a good sign that your boyfriend was finally starting to feel better. Maybe tomorrow’s game wasn’t such a long shot. 

After dinner Brock continued to improve, even wanting to take the dogs out for their evening walk with you but you insisted he get ready for bed instead. The next morning his fever was virtually gone so he decided to go to morning skate and you took the opportunity to sanitize the entire apartment glad to have the whole flu situation behind you. You had even gone as far as picking an o​utfit to wear to the game when Brock came home and you realized it had definitely jumped the gun. 

“That was a mistake,” Brock grumbled, flopping onto the couch. “I feel like shit again.”

“Too much too soon?” you proposed, unfolding a freshly washed throw blanket to place over him again. 

He hummed a yes in response and then “I wanted to play tonight but I don’t think I have the energy.”

“I know you did,” you acknowledged, feeling his forehead with your hand. He was maybe a little warm but nowhere near what he had been. “Get some sleep. Your body is still recovering from being so sick. It might take a few days”

“Such BS,”  Brock mumbled. He has already closed his eyes, seemingly getting ready for yet another nap. You leaned down and kissed his cheek before returning to your closet to put your outfit away. You could go to the game without him but you also didn’t hate the idea of watching it cuddled up on the couch with Brock. 

Brock woke up from his nap feeling much better again but you guys decided that it was probably best he didn’t play. After a call with the trainer, you guys set up on the couch with the dogs and take out sushi.

“Thanks for taking care of me babe” he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in tight. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

You laughed tilting your head up so you guys could make eye contact. “Absolutely, anything for you.” You puckered your lips for him to kiss and your heart filled with warmth as you felt his lips make contact with yours. 

-

Hope you liked it. No shade to Shoppers drug mart. There's one in my building and it was been my best friend the last few days. Stay healthy!

#brock boeser work #brock boeser fanfic #Brock Boeser fic #brock boeser x reader #nhl writing #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader

[buttercupjosh]

know your heart (brock boeser x reader)

(Gif credit to @gabelandeskog)

Word Count: 3,511

Warnings: none

Genre: chaos fluff with a small speck of angst

A/N: I published this story back in February 2021 and it was originally meant for the reader to decide who they wanted the player to be but I decided to re-upload it with a player of my choice (someone who’s different from who I originally had in mind when I first wrote it since I already have another story in the works for that original player). If you’re interested in deciding who you want to imagine who the player is, check the original version out here or feel free to read it with Brock. Another change that I made from the original story is that I uploaded it all as 1 part instead of 3 separate parts. Just like the original story, it’s lowercase intended. It’s also written with a female reader in mind because I’m a cis female of color and it’s a bit vague on description so that if you want to, you could make it apply to anyone. It’s intended to be a self-insert to where the reader can imagine themselves or a character of their choice in the position. For the sake of the story, let’s just pretend this is how Brock adopted his dog. (After doing some research, yes, he did actually adopt one of his dogs from an animal shelter in Tampa during the 2018 All-Star Game). The title of the story comes from the song, Know Your Heart by Wanderer (which I recommend listening to because it’s a good song but you don’t have to listen to it to understand the story). I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌 (p.s. if you have the time, I would also really appreciate if you checked out my other writings with different players, know your heart (the original version), a summer in syracuse, Your Favorite Secret and The Upside of Unrequited. Thanks☺️).

“They say that everything that goes up must come down and I don’t wanna come down. I don’t mind at all. No, I’m used to falling. I’m comfortable when the sky is gray. But when everything is perfect, I start hiding. Cause I know that rain is coming my way.” - Happy and Sad by Kacey Musgraves

(optional listening: listen to my spotify playlist while reading)

you met brock while working on an assignment for your job at the BC SPCA Vancouver Community Animal Centre. the vancouver canucks decided that they wanted to do a calendar with players, puppies and kittens for a charity fundraiser. you wanted a change in your routine so you went along with your co-worker to rogers arena. everything was already set up in place for the photoshoot and all you had to do was bring out the adorable animals and watch from the side to make sure that none of them were being harmed and that they were being handled correctly. it was actually hilarious to watch these large men hold such precious and small creatures in their clutches. brock saw you, watching from the side, chatting with your co-worker and he was drawn to the bright smile you had when your co-worker made you laugh and how you spoke with your hands. you did not really notice that one specific cute guy who admired your smile. you thought some of brock’s teammates were attractive but you were not there to find a suitor and you respected the possibility that some of these guys were in relationships and some of them were not looking for one either.

at the end of the shoot, your co-worker rounded up all of the puppies and kittens and you were approached by team captain bo horvat, who asked you about possibly wanting to adopt a puppy for his child’s upcoming birthday. you had unfortunately forgotten to bring the adoption paperwork with you and told him to stop by the shelter so that he could formally adopt buster, the golden retriever puppy. you gave bo the business card with the information for the shelter and told him to share that information with his teammates, just in case they were interested in adopting as well. after the exchange, you and your co-worker left and went on your merry way.

after going back to the shelter, finishing up taking care of some of the animals there and helping to clean up the main foyer so that the janitor did not have as much to do, you drove yourself to whole foods to go pick up some groceries. while you were in the cereal aisle, you saw him. brock, who secretly admired you from afar earlier that day, trying to analyze the ingredients on a box to make sure it fit the standards that the team nutritionist set into place for his diet. you just looked at brock so focused and you had decided to not bother him so you walked right past him while he was trying to understand which preservatives meant added sugar. brock did see you when you walked past him but he decided not to bother you.

about 2 weeks pass by, bo did come by to adopt buster the puppy for his child and several other members of the team came by and also adopted pets. it was good for the shelter because anytime members of the canucks came and adopted a pet, they posted a photo of their new furry companion and it helped the shelter gain a little exposure through the players’ large following.

one afternoon, brock came in alone to the shelter, which was slightly strange to you because most of the players came in either with their teammates, significant others, or with their families. he ended up wanting to adopt a dog because elias, his closest teammate, persuaded him to get one so that he did not have to come home alone anymore. you were working in the adoption office that day and brock formed a connection with an australian cattle dog mix puppy that he named coolie. you complimented him on his choice and that led to a conversation.

as the conversation went on, brock realized that he enjoyed talking to you; his heart spoke to him and told him to ask you for your number. you were taken aback and extremely caught off guard by his request. you weren’t sure if you should give it out because you weren’t sure what his intentions were. did brock want something romantic out of you or just a friendship? you had also enjoyed talking to him so you gave your number to him.

————————————————————

after securing your number, brock took coolie home and he texted you later on that night to thank you again for your assistance and to also ask you some more questions about yourself. he was intrigued by you; you were different from most of the girls brock interacted with. you did not throw yourself at him with the hopes of becoming a trophy wife and when you spoke to him, you were so down to earth and you made him feel like a regular person, not just some famous athlete. sure, you didn’t have men drooling over you in the streets and you were not pageant material. you knew that you were beautiful on the outside and the inside but there was something about you that also made you ugly. brock saw the beauty within your heart and not just what you looked like on the outside.

what brock didn’t know was that as the questions came, the walls started to come up. you never really liked to talk about your home life. you were ashamed of the fact that your parents were divorced. growing up in a broken home, hearing late night arguments and eventually having to see the only healthy relationship in your life fall apart right in front of your eyes was not ideal.

that experience taught you how to love differently. you loved with extreme caution and skepticism. you were afraid that you were not enough for the person who claimed to love you because you saw how one parent was not enough for the other that claimed to love them. you were also afraid that the person who claimed to love you was going to leave you for someone better. you knew that you deserved to be loved greatly but you were terrified to let them in. you weren’t fussy about who you were and what you wanted. it was easy to maintain a relationship with you but the baggage was not light. you had decided that the best thing for you to do was to keep this away from brock; to not give him a reason to leave early on. you mentioned your family as if everything was okay and you did not drop any hints or clues about your parents’ failed marriage.

in spite of your insecurity, you loved talking to each other. even if he was busy, brock would take the time to text you everyday, just to check in on you and see how you’re doing. those texts eventually turned into friendly snaps, facetimes, and meme exchanges. you learned so much about each other, you both had characteristics that the other person liked.

it just wasn’t a physical attraction but an emotional one as well. you made each other smile and it brightened up both of your days when you heard from each other. brock had flowers delivered to your job on your birthday and sometimes made surprise deliveries of your favorite foods as well, just out of the kindness of his heart. he even told his teammates about you, got you a canucks jersey and other team merchandise items, invited you out to parties and events as his guest and offered several times to get you tickets to his games but you refused. you also limited the amount of time you spent with brock in person as well. you did not want to create the impression that you were brock’s significant other or his side piece to anyone. you were just his friend and you wanted to keep it that way. it was easier and less painful to be let down and create new friends than it was to be by a romantic partner. your insecurities made you suspicious of brock’s gestures and his intentions. brock did not give you a reason to think otherwise, but trusting someone with your whole heart was not easy.

————————————————————

those positive virtual interactions lead to a messy in-person situation. during a game, brock got a minor concussion and was temporarily placed on concussion protocol. he recovered while the team was on a short road trip to california so he invited you over for a movie night to keep him company. you were nervous to go over; “what if he’s just trying to get me in his bed because he’s bored and lonely?” you thought to yourself. you both jokingly flirted with and complemented each other as friends but never took it any further. you knew that brock could have any girl he wanted at the drop of a message but he only wanted you. you wanted brock too but you did not want to romantically invest yourself too much in him because you did not want to add your baggage and insecurity onto his existing personal baggage and you were also scared that he was going to leave you because you weren’t good enough, compared to the other girls he could have. you ended up deciding to go over because your roommate was out of town and you did not want to watch your weekly friday night crime mystery shows alone. brock told you that you did not have to bring anything but you still brought popcorn and a bottle of lemonade anyways.

on the elevator ride up to his apartment, you calmed yourself down. you trusted that brock would not harm or take advantage of you. you walked up to his door with the goods in tow, took a deep breath and knocked on his door. brock’s face lit up when he saw you and he helped you with the things you brought.

the inside of brock’s luxurious apartment was stunning and the best part was the breathtaking view of the vancouver skyline. you had a moment to take it all in, your inner hopeless romantic daydreamed living here with brock. you went into the kitchen and began making the microwave popcorn you brought. while it was popping, you imagined slow dancing together in the kitchen light and just being domestic together here. you knew that you were worthy of good and healthy love but your insecurities told you otherwise. you snapped back into reality after the microwave stopped. brock did not see you lost in thought because he went to put coolie away; he would jump all over you and want to play and brock just wanted to be in the moment with you. you didn’t mind his pupper’s company but brock wanted to make his best impression on you.

you made your way into the living room with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and brock was sitting on the couch, trying to search for the crime show you wanted to watch. you told brock that you could watch something else but he was fine with watching the show you wanted to watch. you sat on the opposite side of the couch and he moved closer towards you. brock draped a blanket over the both of you and wrapped you into his arms. the move caught you by surprise but you accepted it because it felt so good to be cuddled up against him. in that moment, the voice in your heart whispered to you but you shut it out. brock’s heart whispered to him that he was falling in love with the amazing person in his arms but that was all going to change because your insecurity jumped out at the wrong time.

brock got up during the show to use the restroom and to also check on coolie. while he was out of the room, his phone began to go off. brock got 10 text messages in a row from someone named alex. “who is alex?”, you thought to yourself and you immediately jumped to the conclusion that brock already had someone else. maybe alex was the person he preferred to have over than you, maybe that was his hometown significant other, maybe that was his ex. you had both assumed that you were both single because neither of you mentioned an existing romantic partner. you knew that dating an athlete was no easy feat; brock easily could be wooing multiple people at once, he could be a floater who just cycles through different partners or worse, he could be a cheater. of course, there’s someone else, you weren’t naive. you felt so foolish because you gave brock most of your heart and you invested so much time into him. you already planted the thought that you weren’t good enough for brock and this just proved it. you got up angrily and began to gather your things.

brock came back into the living room and saw you frantically getting ready to leave. brock was concerned that he did something wrong and he confronted you. you impulsively lashed out against him and exposed your insecurity to him. you had made yourself look delusional, controlling, jealous and paranoid. you tried to be perfect for brock and keep your baggage hidden from him. your actions just gave brock a reason to cut you off and you burst out in tears. he attempted to comfort you and explain that alex was his younger cousin, who was messaging him off of her new phone. you were so wrapped up in your own brokenness and insecurity that you didn’t even want to hear it or be around brock. you stormed out of there and he didn’t follow you; brock gave you space.

____________________________________

you didn’t speak to brock for a month. after that encounter, he checked on you but you stopped answering his messages. it was difficult and painful to give brock silence because you had spoken to each other constantly for months and it was like you both were tied together with an invisible string but you were so embarrassed and ashamed of your actions that you avoided him. you still cared for brock but you thought you had already ruined the friendship and bond created between the two of you. you pushed your heartbreak aside and threw yourself into work and hanging out with your roommate and your family. brock also got busy with games and he eventually stopped reaching out. you assumed that brock probably moved on but he could not stop thinking about you. he tried to create that same connection with other people and distract himself, but it wasn’t the same. brock felt bad that he broke your heart over a misunderstanding and it consumed him. the people closest to brock could see how this was affecting him and told him to follow his heart.

one afternoon after morning skate, brock went to the animal shelter and waited until your shift ended. he knew that you worked the morning shift and were off by the afternoon on tuesday and thursday. one of your co-workers told you in passing that brock was waiting for you in the lobby. you did not want him here, in your safe space of work, and you asked brock to leave. he told you that he wanted to talk over lunch and the voice in your heart whispered again but you silenced it. you were still ashamed of what you did but you were working on healing from it. you did feel bad for shutting out brock and you missed him but you didn’t know how to fix things without it being awkward and uncomfortable. you did not have any plans after work so you agreed to go eat with him.

brock walked with you to kafka’s, a cafe located down the street from the animal shelter. after getting your food and finding a table, brock finally apologized for the misunderstanding. you accepted his apology and you apologized to him for your actions. the voice in your heart whispered to you again; you took a deep breath and decided to come clean about why you lashed out against him. the words just flowed out of like a river, you told brock everything, including about your parents divorce and how that affected you. tears began to well in your eyes and brock got up to hug you but you stopped him. you did not want to cause a scene so you dried your eyes with your napkin at the table and went to the restroom to regain your composure. you had been vulnerable with each other about other things before but this was heavy for you to release. the weight from your words started to slowly lift away and the voice in your heart whispered loudly this time.

____________________________________

with tears still in your eyes, you realized that you were falling in love with brock. he cared for you so much and you loved how well treated you; brock was an great person. brock didn’t care about how broken, fragile and insecure you were and he was willing to put in the effort to show you how worthy you were of love. brock only wanted you; other people could come and go and catch his eyes but in the end, you were the only one he wanted to be with. brock didn’t want you temporarily but he wanted you for as long as he could have you. he wanted to raise coolie with you, get more dogs and maybe one day, have a little family with you. brock wanted to show you off to the world; he wanted to take you to places you’ve never been before and experience new things with you. brock wanted to take you out and treat you right because you deserved that. he still loved you, even though you hurt his feelings and gave him a reason to push you away. brock still loved you, even though you cried in front of him. he still loved you, even though you didn’t think you were worthy and capable of loving him in the same way. brock was willing to untangle the strings around your heart and cut through the web of lies that trapped you. he was willing to put in the effort to scale the walls you built up and to break them down. brock could taste the tension between the two of you and he wanted to know more of who you were underneath. he wanted to truly know your heart, all of it, even the parts you didn’t like.

you both used to feel lonely when the sun went down but since you came into each other's lives, that changed. you gave each other butterflies. you captured each other’s hearts. you both loved the way each other's names sounded and felt in your mouths. you both didn’t regret the time that you had together. you both loved being in each other’s presence. you wanted each other’s rituals, routines and traditions; you wanted each other’s sunrises and sunsets. you wanted to be in each other’s glow. you set each other’s world on fire and you made each other feel safe. you both didn’t care about what the world would say if you ended up together. you both had no idea what the future held or what it looked like but you both knew that you wanted to be in it together.

you cared so much for brock and you were willing to take on the risks and complications of being in a relationship with an athlete. you loved how brock remembered little details about you. you loved his compassion and kindness towards you. you loved how you made you laugh and how brock warmed your spirit. you loved how brock showed how committed he was to you. you were used to running when everything was perfect because you were expecting rain to come your way soon and wash all of the goodness away. brock was worth standing in the storm for though. you realized that even though he could have had anyone else, he chose you.

yes, the shadow of your parents divorce lingered over you and it would take some time for you to feel stable in a relationship without fear but that adverse experience would no longer hold you down and it did not define you. you decided to finally seek professional help for your pain. yes, there would be moments that insecurities would jump out, there would be moments of conflict, there would be things that you did that brock wouldn’t like and vice versa, things would get tough. brock didn’t want to fix you; neither of you expected the other person to be perfect, you accepted each other’s flaws and all. it was going to be a long road but he was willing to hold your hand and be by your side through those struggles and difficulties. brock loves you for you and you love him for who he is. you made the decision that the leap was worth the fall and you went back to the table.

#brock boeser #vancouver canucks #Brock boeser x reader #Brock boeser fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing #brock boeser imagine #please read my story

[dripkingpetey]

untitled-b.boeser

a/n:i will most likely disappear for weeks after i post this like every time but i just wanted to say i hope you guys enjoy this! (in my opinion this fic is kinda weird and sucks?? but i think i will always feel that way about everything i do lol) 

lowercase intended (i have no idea why i wrote it like that😐)

brock x oc 

2127 words

stella turned her attention away from her book when she saw her phone light up in the corner of her eye, showing that brock had messaged her.

meet me at my dock in 10? 

hmm i don’t know, do i want to?

stell you’re so difficult, just come to the dock please. 

i promise you won’t regret it.

be there in ten😊 

ps.you’re so easy to annoy, mr.sensitive

brock couldn’t help but grin when he saw stella walking down the dock towards him. even though she was in sweatpants and a tank top with her hair pulled up into a bun, he still thought she was the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. 

“woah do you have gifts for me?” stella said sarcastically when she saw a to-go coffee cup and an extra UND hockey hoodie on brocks lap, accompanied by some fluffy blankets. “told you you wouldn’t regret it, though i am considering not giving these to you because of the comment you made.” stella raised her eyebrows at his words before realizing what he meant, she quickly apologized for her sarcastic comment and sat down on brocks lap, his arm snaking around her waist like a glove. 

“can you just not go to college?” she mumbled quietly into his chest, running her fingers through his blonde hair as the two of them admired the moon reflecting off of the lake. 

“i wish i didn’t have to leave either stell, but we’ll still talk lots and see each other all the time.” stella smiled at the nickname brock has always called her, no one else is allowed to call her that, and brock made sure everyone knew. “yeah i guess.” she frowned at him before taking another sip of her now slightly colder coffee. 

brock couldn’t help but admire how beautiful stella looked, and before he knew it, he was kissing her. it was a soft and slow kiss, the slowest kiss ever probably, but the both of them had been dying to do it for as long as they could remember. neither of them said anything as they pulled away, exchanging a smile before she put her head back on his chest.

and that was four years ago, now brock’s in vancouver, with the canucks and having a great nhl career. and where’s stella? living in a small apartment in seattle, two and a half hours away from brock, missing him even after four years. they only occasionally talk now, those occasions being birthdays, maybe even christmas sometimes but that’s about it. 

she was in so, so much pain. but she could never bring herself to talk about it with anyone, she has very few friends here in seattle anyways. all she does is go to coffee shops, writes in her blog (which is doing surprisingly successful and allowing her to make a living off of it), go for walks in nature, and goes home and spends time by herself. all she wanted to do was talk to brock, hug him one last time, and maybe even kiss him again.

when stella saw that seattle was getting an nhl team, a spark of excitement happened in her brain. “what if i run into brock here?” 

brock knew that stella lived in seattle, he was just always too much of a coward to ask her to hangout or even text her a “how are you doing?”. and stella on the other hand didn’t want to be a bother, she didn’t want to mess with brocks life and possibly mess up how well brock was doing in his career. that’s how much stella means to him.

the day brock feared but looked forward to the most finally came, going to an away game in seattle. even though he had no idea where stella lived or what parts of the city she’s in, he had the feeling he’d run into her, there was no way life was gonna keep them apart. 

brock wanted to walk around the city during their day off before the game, he stumbled upon this coffee shop in downtown seattle, a couple minutes away from his hotel. but little did he know, it was stellas favourite coffee shop to write at, and she was sitting inside, grabbing her coffee and sitting up at the barstools by the window.

brock got his coffee and scanned around the coffee shop, finding the only empty spot to be next to a familiar blonde head but was interrupted by his thoughts when a teenage boy came up to him, asking if he was brock boeser, to which stella heard and froze completely. her heart literally felt like it dropped into her stomach, no, not even her stomach. it had dropped from her body entirely and sunk into the ground, making a giant hole and out into space. she was panicking, she wanted to get up, and run out of the coffee shop as fast as she could. but she couldn’t, it was like someone had glued her to her seat.

all those years that stella spent crying in her bedroom, watching old videos and looking at pictures of them together, wishing she could go back in time and make it all work out, screaming at herself on why she never reached out to brock is all coming to an end. cause she had to face him this time.

not long after, she felt someone sit next to her, she tried so hard to ignore it and not look over but she did eventually, just a little bit so he couldn’t see her face. but it was brock, the same brock she used to stare at for hours while laying with him, just a little bit older, and definitely more mature.

stella contemplated on what to do, should she say nothing? should she say hi? should she get mad at him about not texting her for the past four years?

brock on the other hand was also freaking out, wondering what he had done, wondering if she knew he was here, wondering if he had done the right thing, wondering if he should’ve just walked out.

after all these years, stella still couldn’t do it, she still couldn’t face brock. she started packing her things up, leaving her book behind on purpose, with a glimpse of hope that brock would chase after her and return the book, telling her how much he’s missed her and asking to be back in her life again, like a perfect romantic movie. 

but that wasn’t the case, brock watched her leave, just like how stella watched brock leave their hometown four years ago. all brock wanted to do was talk to stella, but he just couldn’t and he didn’t know why.

and all stella wanted to do was talk to brock, but she just couldn’t bring herself to it. but now stella is two blocks away from the coffee shop, her music slowly getting louder by her panicking and pressing the volume up button on her phone, as her tears start to fill up her eyes and flow out uncontrollably. 

while brock stayed sitting in his seat, bottling up all his emotions knowing this is gonna affect the rest of his day, probably even his week.

“woah, what happened to mr.sensitive over here?” elias joked as he walked into him and brocks hotel room, revealing a sad-looking brock who was sitting on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. “i saw- never mind, i don't want to talk about it petey.” brock mumbled before looking up at elias. “how about me, you, and a couple of the guys go to a bar and get rid of whatever this is?” elias said and pointed at brock when he emphasized “this”. 

“yeah sure, whatever.” brock sighed as he stood up. “let’s go see who wants to go out.”

surprisingly, most of the young guys on the team said yes, so all of them went for an adventure in the city, trying to find their new bar to visit whenever they are in seattle. everyone had finally settled in their spots and everyone had their drink, nils and elias were talking about some swedish thing like they always are, quinn and jack watching football on one of the tv’s, the rest of the guys talking about something brock couldn’t even bring himself to pay attention to, all he did was sit there, stare at his drink, and tried not to drink it all at once. 

“hey what about that girl over at the bar? go talk to her.” elias pointed to a blonde girl at the bar and raised his eyebrows in excitement trying to get brock to look over. and to his surprise, it was that same blonde head he couldn’t help but stare at in the coffee shop earlier cause he knew exactly who it was. “oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” brock whispered under his breath and drank his glass of whiskey in one big sip. “here we go.” 

brock sat down right next to stella, who was at the bar to attempt to drink all of her sadness away. brock couldn’t speak, at all, and when he’d attempt to say something words wouldn’t even come out of his mouth, he couldn’t even make a noise. stella hid her face behind her hands and snuck a look at brock, she wasn’t expecting him though, her heart started racing again. but she knew that something had to happen this time. 

“stell,” was the first word brock finally forced out of him. but it also had to be stella’s nickname that was only allowed to be used by brock, and she knew, but she didn’t know what to do. there were three things she wanted to do right now, bolt out of this bar and down the street as fast as she could, hug brock and cry into his arms without saying anything, or pretend like nothing ever happened between the two of them and try to be friends again. she chose the second. 

stella looked at brock and immediately threw her arms around him for the tightest hug she’s ever given anyone, and brock gave her the tightest hug he’s ever given anyone as well. meanwhile, there was a very confused group of nhl players, watching one of their closest friends hugging a random girl at the bar who they thought was a stranger. “what the actual fuck is going on quinn.” elias whispered, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“holy fucking shit i missed you.” brock mumbled with his mouth on top of her head before giving her a kiss on it. “me too, we have so much to talk about.” stella said which was muffled by the sweatshirt brock was wearing but brock could still hear. “can we talk somewhere else?” brock asked, not wanting his teammates to see any more of this interaction. “yeah but i don’t wanna let go.” stella said looking up at brock, still hugging each other tightly. “i’m never letting you out of my life, not again.” brock said while smiling at stella. 

all these years they spent missing each other, was finally coming to an end. maybe stella would finally be happy again, maybe brocks hockey playing would be at his best again. all they knew is that they had each other this time, even if their conversation doesn’t work out, there’s no way they’re giving up. 

the two of them ended up going over to stellas apartment, they couldn’t stop apologizing to each other about not reaching out but they quickly forgave each other. they were now sitting on the couch in the living room, cuddling like how they always would. they were like two puzzle pieces, not only did their bodies fit perfectly side by side, they complimented eachothers best parts, and covered up the bad parts.

“hey,” stella said quietly, looking up at brock who responded with a “hmm?”. “i’m sorry about the coffee shop earlier.” stella let out a small laugh at the end of her sentence, brock did as well. “it’s okay,” he smiled. “i have your book by the way, but i’m keeping it.” brock smirked, watching stella give him an annoyed look. “don’t worry, i’ll buy you another copy if you want.” he cut her off as soon as stella opened her mouth. “fine.” stella mouthed, before giving brock a quick peck on his jawline. that was one of the things brock missed most. he squeezed her just a bit tighter for a couple seconds, nuzzling his face into her neck and breathing in her scent. nothing could get him to leave her right now, or maybe even ever again.

#brock boeser #brock boeser x oc #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #canucks #nhl canucks #canucks fic #fanfic #nhl fic #nhl

[wyattjohnston]

take my hand, baby - brock boeser

series: take you one day at a time

summary: the lead up to the 2023 trade deadline is a little chaotic.

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2,342

The rumours had been flying for months, a long off-season of potential trade rumours and articles about moving him being the solution to the Canucks cap-space woes—Annie checked every notification on her phone in case it was the one that sealed their fate.

At the beginning of the season it had been devastating but understandable, knowing that Brock was unlikely to see out the season in Vancouver—that even if he did, Bo probably wouldn’t.

It became a lot less understandable a month into the season when Annie stared down at the positive pregnancy test while Brock was in the middle of a weeklong road trip up the east coast.

“I should have waited until he got home. Right, Coolie?” Annie asked as he started to hover around her legs. She scratched him behind the ears. “I should definitely tell him first but probably not on the phone. You have to promise to keep it a surprise.”

Coolie woofed and Annie took it as agreement before he trotted out of the room to tell Milo.

She tapped the stick against the edge of the sink a few times as she tried to work out what was really going through her mind. She didn’t feel the fear she once had, having the word ‘pregnant’ staring back up at her, which was a relief in and of itself. Most of her worry came from having to keep her mouth shut until she saw Brock again.

Annie smiled at her reflection in the mirror, a gentle laugh bubbling from her lips.

The test didn’t leave Annie’s mind once over the next four days; it made talking to Holly almost impossible, a lovely combination of secret keeping and her mind wandering to the test—to the future.

In a moment of weakness, unable to just keep the news between her and the dogs, Annie whispered it into Tulsa’s ear while Holly was distracted by Gunnar. At seven months old, Tulsa obviously had no idea what she was being told, but it settled something in Annie to say it out loud to another human.

“They’re going to be a little younger than you,” Annie said, bouncing Tulsa up and down on her knee, “but I hope you’re best friends.”

Holly had been none-the-wiser.

In their many phone calls before he came home, Brock remained unaware that Annie was keeping anything from him. He noted on more than one occasion that she sounded happy and she just shrugged and said it had been a good week.

It was still early in the afternoon when Brock got home, a benefit of time zones counteracting long flights, and Annie was lounging on their outdoor sofa, Coolie stretched out over her legs and Milo cuddled up into her side. Neither dog did anything more than lift their heads when the back door slid open and Brock walked out.

Annie never got sick of seeing him.

“I thought you’d be working,” he said, smiling fondly at the sight and leaning down to kiss her before he scratched both dogs behind the ears thoroughly.

“I scheduled it off when your schedule came out and I found out they’d shipped you off for ten days.”

He laughed, making room for himself on the couch—Coolie was unimpressed by the disruption but settled back into Brock’s lap. Annie had to find space on his lap around Coolie, but she managed.

Brock said, “You just had me home for like three weeks; you should be sick of me.”

“You weren’t supposed to fuck up your hand again, so I couldn’t prepare around that,” Annie said, tersely, still unhappy that he’d been put in the line up so soon after his surgery. She wasn’t unhappy with him—knowing all too well that if you give a hockey player the choice, they’ll say they’re fine to play—just at the organisation for letting him.

“I don’t want to talk about hockey.” Brock sighed heavily and Annie didn’t blame him. It had been a poor road trip—2 wins in 5 games—and only exacerbated the loss record while Brock was on the ice. He had 2 wins in 11 games.

It was as good a time as any, Annie figured. Her heartbeat was getting quicker and quicker, the anticipation growing with every second she waited. It would lift his mood, too, she was sure of it.

So, she asked, giddily, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Is Holly pregnant again?”

“No, Holly’s not pregnant,” Annie said. “I am.”

“What’s the secr—wait, Annie.”

She was sure his eyes had never been that wide, that his expression had never been happier—it certainly hadn’t in the last year. He reached out for Annie desperately, jostling both the dogs off the couch, and there was no time wasted in her climbing into his lap.

“It’s why I’ve been so happy this week,” she said into the top of Brock’s head.

His face was buried into her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her straddle over his lap was rather awkward but he was holding her so close that moving was out of the occasion, it didn’t matter, really, when everything else felt positively euphoric.

“Holy shit, Annie, I love you so much.”

His voice was watery and she could feel his tears on her skin, holding him closer was no hardship—especially not when she was beginning to cry herself.

As much as Annie didn’t want to move, she did have to clamber off Brock’s lap because the feeling in her legs started to disappear. Brock was reluctant but he stood up with her, cupping her face and kissing her breathlessly.

“Who have you told?” he asked, not sounding like he’d be upset by any answer she gave. She was certain nothing could ruin the blissful expression on his face.

“You. The dogs. Tulsa. I only peed on a stick; I haven’t even told a doctor yet.”

“This is—this is unreal, Annie,” he said, just before he kissed her again. Her legs were getting weaker with every kiss. “Should we get married?”

“I don’t need to be married. If you want to be married then we can but we can do this without a wedding.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her off her feet to spin her around. The commotion caused the dogs to bark and start chasing Annie’s feet, but Brock didn’t let her down.

Annie wasn’t even supposed to be in Florida with them.

About a week before the All-Star break, something had clawed at her and told her she needed to be there with them, so she re-arranged her plans to go to Disney World with her brother, his wife and their two kids:

While six months pregnant.

Brock had let it happen because of that fact, and told her to change his plans, too.

It became clear on the 30th of January exactly what that clawing feeling had been.

It was just the two of them at the hotel, Annie barely made it out of the room before retreating back inside and going back to bed and Bo having left early because of the calls he was getting.

Annie didn’t even know until Bo knocked on her door, waking her up and asking to be let in. The dejected look on his face let her know right away what had transpired during her nap.

“Want to know where I’m going?” he asked, tapping his phone against his hand.

“I guess.”

“Islanders.”

The bottom fell out of Annie’s stomach as a map of North America flew into her mind, drawing a thick red line between Vancouver and New York. That was something to deal with later.

“It’s January,” Annie chose to settle on. “Why the fuck are they trading anybody in January?”

“I don’t know, Ann.”

She stared at him, the map not leaving her mind. It was so far, further than he’d ever been before, and that in and of itself was terrifying.

“I don’t want to make this about me,” she said, furious at the tears welling up in her eyes, “but I’m going to because you’re supposed to be here for me and here after this baby’s born and Holly is supposed to help me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I’ve never been able to do anything without you.”

Her hands settled over her ever-growing and ever-present bump as she spoke. It had been a smooth pregnancy, all things considered—aside from some lethargy and the first trimester morning sickness, she had nothing to complain about.

It wasn’t even the birthing part she was particularly scared of.

The part that worried her the most was not having anyone around to help her—through the birth or the newborn stage. The part that was coming true in front of her eyes.

“You don’t need me,” Bo assured her, his hands on her shoulders as he stared her down in the most aggressively fond way. “If you need Holly, she’ll come back. You know that. And you have Brock, who is arguably the most important person you’re going to need.”

Annie huffed, childishly stomping her foot, “He’s going to be traded, too, so who the fuck knows.”

Bo sat her down on the bed, looking down at her as she imagined he did to Gunnar when he was getting a talking to. He told her, “If Brock does get traded, you’re not staying in Vancouver. You’ve told me all the plans you’ve got in case you have to move at the deadline.”

It was the truth, as difficult as she knew it would be. The contingencies had been in place almost since they found out, what with the trade rumours amping up with every passing day.

“If any old man in the league had any fucking decency maybe they would have traded him today when I’m six months pregnant and less fucking stressed.”

“Less stressed,” Bo laughed, throwing his head back. “Is that what you call this?”

Annie glared, her mouth pulling tight and her eyebrows doing the same. She stood, poked Bo in the chest and said, “I’m going to kick everybody’s ass between Vancouver and fucking Brooklyn. Including yours.”

Nobody had expected Annie’s baby bump to get quite so round. Holly had made a point of telling Annie that it wouldn’t get too big purely because Annie was small—in height and weight. Nobody she knew was making too many comments about it, but strangers passing on the street had no issue asking her when she was due because it must have been any moment. The looks on their faces when Annie said, through gritted teeth, that she was barely seven months along and they should mind their own business was only just enough to get her through.

Pregnancy had turned her into a stress eater, which may have been contributing to the unexpected size, and in the days leading up to the trade deadline she was eating more and more because she was trying to internalise her own stresses to avoid exacerbating Brock’s.

Up until four or five days before ethe deadline, it was impossible to separate Brock from his phone; every single buzz sent him reaching for it lightning fast only to be met with another, entirely unrelated trade, or somebody in his family’s group chat sending a cute photo. The idea of hiding his phone had tempted Annie more than once but she knew better than to add the stressing of missing anything to the mix.

Things died down in the final few days before the deadline, all the big trades were seemingly done and Brock had been promised that he was in Vancouver to stay; Annie didn’t trust those promises but they made Brock lighter and more carefree so she wouldn’t tell him what she thought.

The night before the deadline—the 2nd of March, on the back of a loss against Minnesota where not even his power play goal could take out the sting—Annie greeted Brock at the door.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Brock said when he saw her, putting an end to the sneaking he’d been attempting.

“Slept all day in case you were up all night. Didn’t want you to be alone,” she said softly. She took his suit jacket from his arms and kissed him.

“You need sleep,” Brock argued as he wrapped her up and shuffled her out of the doorway. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“I can try.”

Brock’s smirk showed that he didn’t believe she could do it, so Annie settled on making him lie down with her in the hope that she could coax him into some rest.

He didn’t seem to be overly caught up in the deadline being so soon, happy to just lie beside her and stifle a laugh as she did her best to shuffle closer to him, inevitably neding some assistance to move the pillow that was supporting her bump but when the only thing between them was her stomach, she put her arm over his stomach and watched him with soft eyes as she started talking to him about their baby names shortlist.

Annie couldn’t say what time she fell asleep, or how long it took Brock to after her, but by the time they woke up Annie knew it was late. When she opened her eyes, unimpressed by the light that was filtering into the room from the poorly drawn blinds, Brock was smiling at her peacefully.

“What’s the time?” she asked, her voice hoarse and muffled by the pillow.

“Just before noon. I think I’m safe. We’re safe.”

A smile grew so large on Annie’s face that her cheeks started to hurt within seconds—somehow, through sheer willpower, she threw herself on top of Brock and started kissing his face. Brock’s arms tightened around her, keeping her secure on top of him, just letting the kisses happen.

“This means I win.”

“Win what?”

“Our baby is going to be so Canadian.”

tag list: @fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @guesswhoispathetic @laurenairay @jarmorie @p1nkbarbi3

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#brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #take you one day at a time fic #fic: canucks

[bedsyandco]

˗ˏˋ VANCOUVER CANUCKS MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗

── ❨ QH43 ❩

✉️ YOURS — in which Josh's little sister goes to the Hughes Lake house with him, where two years ago Quinn and her had a one night stand.

✉️ KISS — 5 times Quinn wanted to kiss you + 1 time he did

✉️ DISHES IN THE SINK — in which you and Quinn are fighting but he can’t leave without letting you know he loves you!!

✉️ AGE IS JUST A NUMBER — after some comments were made by Quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and Quinn has to reassure you

💭 ADULTS

🖇️ BF!QUINN HEADCANONS

🖇️ BF!QUINN HEADCANONS (2)

📷 EYES OPEN (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)

📷 SUMMER

📷 THINK LATER

── ❨ EP40 ❩

✉️ HOME — in which Petey comes home to you after a long Road Trip

── ❨ BB06 ❩

✉️ HOME — in which your Brock’s best friend and the lines are blurry because you act like more both to him and his son.

#quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #brock boeser x yn #brock boeser fic #brock boeser x reader #elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson x reader #— navigation #—masterlist

[sunkissed-zegras]

🍯 “eyes on me” with quinn hughes

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 | qh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 266

♡ ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion. oral (fem. receiving) but nothin else

♡ ─ ev's notes | i will say this til the day i die, QUINN IS A LEVEL 100 MUNCHHHH.

Quinn ran his tongue on your cunt slowly, watching your every reaction. Your legs were held open by Quinn as he delved his tongue on your pussy, making them shaking. Your whole body felt weak from his tongue, causing quiet whimpers to fall from your bruised lips.

Your eyes were blown out with desire as you watched him slowly lick up and down your cunt, your hand pulling on his hair as he began to go quicker. His eyes were locked on you as he kept his speed steady, your whole body putty in his hands.

"Fuck, Quinn. I wanna cum, please." You were begging him to go even a little faster, to make you cum. As Quinn gazed up at you, he couldn't deny you - you looked so fucking pretty with your legs spread just for him as he devoured you.

He obliged, his tongue going up and down your clit quicker as you gripped his head to compose yourself. "Fuck, Quinny." You cried out as your head fell back in the pillow, your eyes shutting.

"Eyes on me, pretty girl." Quinn mumbled, sending vibrations through your entire body. You forced yourself to watch Quinn and his tongue started sucking on your clit, causing your eyes to roll back. The pressure in your stomach became tighter and tighter as he kept up his quick pace, your whole body shaking.

You came all over his mouth, crying out as you pulled on his hair. Your legs shook harshly but Quinn didn't budge, he kept his tongue on your clit as he rode you through your high.

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