#charlie mcavoy imagines

[aliaology]

MASTERLIST

alia’s new and improved masterlist!

who i write for; jack hughes, quinn hughes, luke hughes, alexander holtz, trevor zegras, charlie mcavoy, jeremy swayman!

🎀 jack hughes — masterlist

quinn hughes — masterlist 🎀

🎀 luke hughes — masterlist

alexander holtz — masterlist 🎀

🎀 trevor zegras — masterlist

charlie mcavoy — masterlist 🎀 soon

🎀 jeremy swayman — masterlist / soon

hughes sister series — masterlist!

#masterlist #hockey #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #new jersey #new jersey devils #luke hughes #charlie mcavoy #jeremy swayman #alexander holtz #trevor zegras #anaheim ducks #vancover canucks #vancouver #anaheim #boston bruins #boston

[chaotickryptonitetree]

grant me easiness and i'll give you everything (it's only fair) | jeremy swayman

what I feel about him is alarming and frighting and yap yap yap. hope you like!

Whoever claimed to enjoy airports had clearly never been an Uber driver. 

Sure; the money was significantly better than a normal ride—but the traffic? And the poor temperament? And the confusing lanes? It made you question if it was even worth the money. 

But there were bills to pay, so you added tonight to the list of nights you ended up at the rideshare terminal of the airport. 

You knew by now that flights usually got in on the 10s (7:10, 8:10, etc), so people would have collected their luggage and made their way to ride shares by the 35s (give or take). Glancing at the dash cam, you read 9:32. As if on cue, your phone pinged with a few alerts. 

Typically, you’d choose the one that offered the most money. But it had been a long night, with a lot of rides, and had made enough to finish a bit early. So you picked the one that would put you closest to home. And it happened to be Jeremy, who wanted to end up at a brownstone around 7 minutes from your building. 

And you waited. 

Just for a minute or two before a knock on the back window stirred you from completely zoning out. Instinctively, you unlocked the car and a body slid into the back seat. 

“Jeremy?” You confirmed, not bothering to look back. 

“How do you know that?” A cheery voice forced your hand, made you make eye contact with him in the mirror. Mistake. 

“Are you Jeremy or not?” You were paid to drive, not indulge lazy jokes. Still, his kind eyes didn’t waver. 

“Just messin,” he looked out the window and mockingly placed a light touch to the window. Despite yourself, you tracked the movement, watching his hands (his large, large hands). Mistake. “Driver, take me home.” He sighed a wistful sigh, and even though you didn’t want to, a small smile found its way to your face. Putting on the turn signal, you merged into the departure lane and turned up the stereo. 

Checking your blindspot, you pulled onto the freeway—traffic was awful so it would be a long ride despite the short mileage. 

“Temperature okay?” You asked politely, following your script. 

“Just right!” You could hear the smile in his voice, even though you refused to look at him again. 

“Music alright?” 

“My favorite!” You raised an eyebrow at his response—top 40 radio was no one’s favorite. But that was your last question that usually made riders feel heard enough to give 5 stars. Slightly relieved (as always), you settled in for the drive. 

Usually you spent the time working through a problem in your head, really getting into the whys and hows of something that was bothering you. One of your friends was being distant, so you started there. She had started this behavior about a month ago, so that could mean that—

“I flew in from Alaska,” that cheery voice interrupted your internal monologue completely. 

“That’s nice,” your reply was non-committal. You didn’t usually talk to riders that much. Didn’t plan on making it a habit. 

“Yup!” He popped the p sound. “I’m from there, and I was visiting my family. It was awesome—I really miss them when I’m here for a long time.” 

“Nice.” You were out of practice making small talk with a new person (to put it lightly). He just nodded—the only indication being the sound of fabric moving around his neck as he did so. 

“So, where are you from?” He leaned forward in his seat, as if genuinely interested—as if knowing where this stranger grew up was a seriously important part of his night. 

“I don’t have to talk to riders just because,” you cringed at how mean you sounded. He didn’t even deflate a little, just leaned back and laughed a slightly weird laugh. 

“Fair enough,” his tone made you wonder if he was always this happy, this unphased. 

And then the music filled the space as much as your stale air freshener did—even if the air was tinged with a bit of guilt on your part. 

“I can feel you looking at me,” your eyes darted to him again in the mirror. Brown eyes forgiving and kind and very, very cute. 

“Not tryna hide it.” It could’ve been taken as flirting, but you had the impression that he was just like this with everyone. Still, it warmed your cheeks just a little bit. “I’ve just never had such a pretty Uber driver,” and then a moment later, “well, a pretty one that’s my age, I mean.” 

You laughed, despite yourself. “Pining after older women are ya?” He smiled easily, and it definitely was for him—easy. 

“Look at this face and tell me I’m not a cougar's dream,” he laughed loudly. You didn’t look back for safety reasons (and convinced yourself that was the only reason). He leaned forward again. “I like it though,” his words felt like an admission, even if he didn’t lower his voice. Everything about him just felt—genuine? In a way that made every breath feel like a secret. “Makes me feel like I have a hot girlfriend who likes me enough to pick me up at the airport.” 

You scoffed. If he wanted a hot girlfriend, it definitely wouldn’t be hard—not with his easy charm and pretty face. “I’m only here because I’m being paid.” You hesitated. “And there’s no way you don’t have someone who likes you enough to brave the traffic.” 

You could sense his delight through your headrest. “Oh yeah I do,” he looked out the window again, “I have the best friends in the entire world. They were just busy tonight.” He sighed as if the idea of his friends was as good as having them in the seat next to him. It was quiet for a moment. “But no girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“I wasn’t asking,” your tone was blunt, but you couldn’t help but smile. He laughed his weird, goofy laugh.

“Call me a romantic,” he addressed you by name—something you typically didn’t like from patrons in your backseat—but it felt different with him. “But I want that—someone who wants to be the first person to see you when you get back, who can’t even wait to kiss you even if it’s in front of a whole terminal.” 

“Sounds like you’ve been watching too many rom coms,” but that suddenly felt unkind to such a gentle man, so then a moment later, “I hope you find that.” 

“I will,” he seemed absolutely sure. “Oh shoot,” he raised his fists to the sky mockingly. “My phone died. Curses!” 

“I have a charger,” you looked around for the cord while still keeping an eye on the road. He stayed quiet for a moment, considering. 

“No, I have an android,” he quickly put his phone in his front pocket, eyes squinting with trouble. Trouble that made you think that he definitely didn’t have an android. “Oh wait! I have an idea!” He completely over-sold his facial expressions, making you question where he was going with this little scheme. 

“And what would that be?” your tone was dry, eyes still on the road as you took the exit off the freeway, only a few minutes from his destination. 

“So I can give you your rightfully earned tip!” He reasoned, “you can give me your phone number so I can send you money once I get my phone charged.” You could feel his hopeful gaze on you, like his plan was the most logical course of action ever spoken. 

Logistically, it made no sense. You could tip an Uber days after your ride. “And what—you’ll just remember my number until then?” For some reason that was the first question you asked.

He nodded, serious as you’d seen him. “Of course,” he said incredulously, “I remember important stuff.” 

And it didn’t make any sense. And you could’ve said no. And this was probably against some sort of employer code. And he was definitely this charming with everyone. But he looked so endearing and hopeful and there was something very good about him. Something right. 

So you rattled off your number, and he mouthed each number after you said it. And you believed him that he would remember it. 

And you believed him as he opened the door to leave, wishing you a good night. And you believed him as he waved from the top step. And as he opened the door and turned around for one more look, mouthing goodbye. 

Despite yourself, you believed him. 

…

Your bed was heaven after a long stint in the car. Practically asleep before your head hit the covers, a notification sounded from your phone. 

A message from an unrecognized number was the last thing you saw before sleep. 

From: unknown 

Sent $50 

And then a moment later, after you saved his contact. 

From: Jeremy 

Any interest in meeting me at Dunkin on Tuesday morning? 

You went to sleep smiling. He remembered. 

…

You agreed to meet him early—you typically liked to start driving before 11 and he had morning skate. 

The sun had just risen as you walked to a Dunkin about halfway between you and him, bundled up in a puffer jacket and a toque. The bell jingled above the door as you entered, blowing warm air into your hands. It was freezing out. 

You didn’t even have time to glance around and look for him before a tall, broad body in a black coat walked up to you and held out his arms for a hug. And then you weren’t freezing anymore. Not even a little bit. 

He released you with a smile, linking your arms together and pulling you into line. “What do you usually get?” You asked, convincing yourself that you certainly were not leaning into his side. Definitely not. 

He peered down at you, tucked into his side, nose red from the cold. “Whatever looks good,” he admitted, “usually the thing with the most cream and sugar.” 

You laughed—even if you didn’t really know him, the idea that he didn’t have an order, that he just let himself enjoy whatever he wanted (even if it had a ton of sugar), that seemed very him. 

“I’ll get that too,” you definitely snuggled into his side more, but maybe it was so you didn’t have to face his genuine smile so head on. Maybe? 

And so he ordered for you both, but not before complimenting the teenage cashier’s pride pin and asking what his favorite donut was. 

“Dunno,” the kid had braces and posture that seemed to shrink in on itself, and was clearly not used to anything beyond what can I get for you, “sprinkle looks pretty good today.” 

“Then two of those too,” he put the spare change (and a five) in the glass tip jar. “Thanks brother,” he put out his knuckles for a fist bump. The kid tapped his fist lightly to Jeremy’s, completely won over. 

Like a puppy, he quickly found something else to entertain himself with while you waited. “We almost have matching jackets!” He gestured to his black north face and your navy one. You pulled a face—how could he find such delight in everything? 

“I guess?” You pinched your face together. He didn’t mind. 

“Very couple-y of us,” he put his hands up at the look you shot him. “I had to say it,” He shook his head like it was obvious. And it was so cute you didn’t give him a hard time about it. 

“Thanks for paying,” you directed the subject elsewhere, “you didn’t have to do that.” He shrugged, eyes fixed on your drinks as the barista (are they called baristas at Dunkin??) set down two identically light and sweet drinks. 

“My pleasure,” he grabbed the bag with two sprinkle donuts inside. 

“I’ll send you my share,” you made to grab your phone from your pocket. His hand over yours stilled the movement entirely, warmth emanating from his palm. 

“You got it next time,” he shrugged—like obviously there would be a next time. And you believed him, hand now interlaced with his. 

“I know it’s bad for me,” he groaned as he took a sip, “but it’s actually the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” A completely innocent line, but it felt dirty as he said it. Or maybe you were just losing it over how his thumb moved over yours. 

“Oh,” you responded quietly, taking a sip of yours. Total sugar bomb. “Well you’ll work it off anyways in practice I’m sure,” you fumbled over your words just a little bit. He seemed amused. “Like, looking at you, I’d never guess you have a sweet tooth,” you said, even though there was absolutely no reason to keep talking. He titled his head in delight. “Because you look totally in shape—you look, great. Yeah.” A true example of vocal mastery was on display tonight. 

He took a bite of donut, his white teeth a sight so intimate it made you blush. He hummed while chewing, nodding. “Oh yeah? I’m not sure why you mean…should we keep talking about how hot I look?” He joked before pulling a very embarrassed you into his side and out into the chilly air. It didn’t feel as cold with his hand around yours though. 

You laughed an embarrassed laugh. “Easy, you big dope, I was trying to be nice.” He laughed into your toque, head on top of yours. 

“I know, I know.” And then he went into talking about how he wasn’t a fan of Dunkin before moving to New England and now he was addicted. And you just listened, toasty from humiliation and content as he walked you home, hand covering yours. 

…

You offered to pick him up from practice later in the week (he had asked you to come to a home game, but you weren’t quite ready for that yet). He was right on time, waving an animated wave as he walked out the door with a few teammates. 

You waved back (a bit more timid in the presence of his friends), and turned to que up your next song. He knocked lightly on the window, and you rolled it down. He was bent over, face in the window as he glanced toward the backseat. 

“Want to meet my friends?” He asked politely, clearly excited. 

You hesitated, which made him continue. “No pressure at all. If you don’t want to, I can hop in the backseat and we can pretend you’re my Uber driver again,” he smiled a grin that was so genuinely happy it made you less nervous. You turned off the engine. 

“No way,” you unbuckled your seatbelt. “I wanna meet ‘em.” You opened the door and shut it softly behind you, wrapping your arms around yourself instinctively. He pumped his fist. 

“Let’s go!” He seemed overjoyed. It was quite possibly the sweetest reaction to such a nothing event. You rolled your eyes, but let him pull you in front of him, large hands rested on your shoulders, steering you to face his two teammates. 

He introduced you to them both (they were sweet, but there was something on their face that made you unsure if they were making fun of you or jeremy–or both–or no one). But listening to them banter back and forth while you stood pressed to the front of him made you realize that they just joked around like that. 

Jeremy was usually the punchline–but he didn’t mind. He was easy to laugh, easier to smile, and made a point of pulling you impossibly closer to him. If his friends noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

But then the fact that they didn’t say anything made you wonder just how many people he had introduced to his friends. Maybe they were having a non-reaction because they were so used to it? You stiffened slightly under his hands. 

And he must’ve felt it, because he placed a feather-light kiss to your hair–which did pull a reaction from his boys. 

“If you’re around on new year’s, we’re throwing something and you are obviously invited,” one of them nodded towards you, eyes a little wide. 

“Obviously?” You questioned, but felt far more comfortable than a moment ago. The taller one laughed, eyes flickering to Jeremy’s briefly. 

“Obviously,” he confirmed. “You think this is our first time hearing about you?” He shook his head, clapping the shorter one on the back. “Sway here wouldn’t shut up about you. If you didn’t respond to his text he was going to make us call every Uber in Boston until one of us got you as a driver.” 

You hit his chest as you turned around. “You goof,” you meant to say–but the words died on your tongue when your eyes met his–so full of genuine enjoyment and content that it warmed you from the inside out. You turned toward them again, waving goodbye. 

“I’ll see you on new year’s then.” 

“Nice to meet you,” they parroted, smirking at Jeremy. “We’ll see ya sway.” He waved and let you pull him into the passenger seat. 

“I like your friends,” you rubbed your hands together and blew on them. He smiled a radiant smile. 

“You’ll love the rest of the guys,” he pulled your free hand into his lap, both palms wrapped around it, warming you right up. You drove the rest of the way home with one hand so he could keep a grip on you. He gave you a play-by-play of practice (which drills he did best on, what made him laugh the most, what he wanted to focus on for the next game), only coming up for air once. 

“I really like you,” he said earnestly, as matter-of-factly as when he spoke about drills. It made you shake your head. 

“Obviously I like you too,” the words felt good to be out–like you didn’t realize how true they were until you said them aloud. 

He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Obviously?” You could feel his smile on the back of your hand. 

“It's, like, impossible not to.” You pulled in front of his building, putting the car in park. Meaning to pull your hand back from him–a little embarrassed–but didn’t even make it over the console before he crushed you in a hug over the center console. The steering wheel dug into your side, nose crushed into his chest, hair static-y all over his puffer. But you couldn’t bring yourself to back out of it–arms rubbing circles against the back of his coat. 

You had no idea how much time had passed when he pulled back, grabbed his bag from the trunk, and walked up to the front door. It was probably the longest he had gone without talking around you. But you didn’t mind. You liked him when he talked, when he didn’t, when he smiled, when he breathed. 

You smiled all the way home. 

…

You agreed to walk to the new year’s eve party together. It was just far enough away for you to prepare to meet more of the people from his world and hear about his last couple road games. Just hearing him talk made your nerves melt away. 

He insisted on meeting on your doorstep, however, even though it added 10 minutes to his walk. He texted when he was on his way.

From: J

Be there in a few!

From: you

You need my address?

From: J

Course not.

And then.

I remember important stuff.

You went in for a hug as you opened the door–a new part of your routine. 

“Hey,” your greeting was muffled into his puffer. His navy?? Puffer. One identical to your own. You thumbed the material and glanced up at him. “Nice coat?” You raised your eyebrows. 

He laughed loudly, tipping his head back. “I wanted to match.” The way he said it made it feel obvious–tone like a noncommittal shrug. Like why wouldn’t he want to match? 

The ease of the gesture was lovely. He was lovely. “Well then,” you linked your arm with his, setting off down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, “it is an honor to match with you tonight.” 

He let a grin brighten his face. “You smell really good,” he breathed into your hair. “Like you always do. And I like the glitter you have–” He ghosted a thumb over your brow bone, “here.” 

And the loveliness haunted you the entire walk over, conversation easy and light. He was so open, so kind, in a way that eased openness and kindness from you as well. 

So the night was much better than you had expected. It felt natural to meet his friends, his teammates, their wives, their kids. It didn’t feel like being thrust into a brand new world. It just felt like natural–like getting another piece of Jeremy was a privilege. 

And you didn’t feel out of place with how enamored you were with him–everyone here clearly was. He was the heartbeat of this group of people–and you felt lucky to watch him light up the room. And a little part of you felt proud that you were here with him. 

The one who everyone wanted to be around–he wanted to be here with you. 

“You’re too nice for him,” another new face laughed as he clapped Jeremy on the shoulder, looking down at you. 

“Too nice?” You glanced at the palm resting over your stomach. Possibly the most gentle, kind touch you had experienced. How could anyone be too nice for that? “For him?” Your voice raised with confusion.

The young guy in front of you raised his eyebrows at the man behind you. “He didn’t tell you?” His smile was all trouble. “Our boy Sway likes to be a little roughed up,” he laughed at your blush, hidden by you turning around to gape at Jeremy. To wait for a rebuttal.

But it never came. He just laughed good-naturedly and hugged you into his chest. “Hey now, don’t scare her away!” He looked down at you, squeezed tight against his chest. “Lucky to have her here at all.” His smile was just for you. 

And so you smiled and let yourself half forget about that comment. Met some more people. Drank some more wine. Smiled a lot. 

But you couldn’t forget it entirely. 

Some time later, he beckoned you over to where he sat on the couch. You finished up chatting with some of the women and made your way to him. 

“Hey,” you stood in between his legs before he pulled you down to sit on one of his thighs with a thud. You felt him sigh into your hair as you leaned back so your head rested on his shoulder, hands reaching around the play with his fingers. He was solid and warm. 

“Hey,” if you had to put money on it–you’d bet he was smiling. “Thanks for being a champ about this–they can be a lot.” You traced a nail over the outline of his hand. “But they’re important to me, so it makes me happy that they get to meet you.” 

As intimate as a secret, spoken lowly in your ear. As secure as a fact, warming your chest. 

“I like them,” you thought for a moment. “Even if they think I’m too nice.” 

He rolled his eyes. “They’re just giving you a hard time. It’s a long story.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You can tell me if you want.” You could feel his chest rise and fall under your back.

“When I first signed, I showed up to practice all beat up once. Bruises, all that nonsense.” His eyes shone as he retold the story–like the emotions were just as fresh as they had been.  “Told everyone I walked into a doorway–or something stupid like that. In the locker room later, everyone saw the marks this girl had left all over me.” He indicated scratch marks over where you lay on his chest. “All on my back and my neck and stuff. Never heard the end of it–how doors are really fighting back now and all that.” You just listened. “So yeah, they give me a hard time about it. But it’s no big deal–I didn’t want them to scare you or anything. If you’re not into that, don’t worry.” 

He ducked his head into the crook of your shoulder, kissing behind your ear. You shivered, trying not to wiggle too much over his lap. Tilting your head towards him, you let your voice drop so only he could hear. “I’m into that.” His eyes went wide. “And I’m into you, so I can still be nice.” 

He gulped audibly, making you smirk. “Like, I can be nice and tell you that you’re so good.” His face was as serious as you’d seen him. “Makes me wonder if you’d be so good for me.” 

He nodded before he knew what he was nodding at, grip tight around you. “I would be.” His voice was clipped. “I’d be so good for you.” 

You nodded back, chest on fire. You believed him. 

You let your cheek rest against his sweater, eyes peering up at him–slightly flushed from the party and eyes a little tired. It had to be close to midnight. 

As if on cue, the countdown began from the tv. Every voice in the room chanted along…10, 9, 8…but you almost didn’t hear them. Too busy looking at Jeremy. 7, 6, 5. You turned so your legs swung off the couch, sideways in his lap. 

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss,” he whispered, holding you upright against him. “Like a real one. Not just a friend or something.” 4, 3. You pulled him so close you could see the shine of his lip from his drink, feel the sweat on the back of his neck from his sweater. 

2. 1. “Glad to be your first or something,” you grinned into the kiss, teeth knocking against his. He laughed a breathy laugh into your mouth, free hand palming the back of your head. His chest rose and fell next to yours, making you pull back. 

“I’m so happy it’s you,” he admitted–probably the most embarrassed you’d seen him. You ran your hands through his hair, settling against his chest so he could put his chin atop your head.

You believed him.

...

happy new year! Love ya

#nhl fic #nhl imagines #jeremy swayman #bruins #boston bruins #david pastrnak #brandon carlo #charlie mcavoy #matt poitras

[thatsdemko]

lil secret - j.swayman

masterlist

requested: y

pairings: Jeremy swayman x mcavoy!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + a little short + mentions of panic

a/n: this was supposed to be with the ask as a blurb BUT tumblr found the picture offensive with the ask so it’s in imagine form but really it’s a blurb! this blurb has been lightly proof read

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

“we really shouldn’t be doing this.” were the famous words of any secret relationship or situationship. it was the words you and Jeremy were constantly saying over and over, yet you both found yourselves underneath each other every occurring week. you were both were addicted to each other.

“well I couldn’t resist myself, you look good in that dress.” he pulled you into his lap. his hands finding their way under your dress, and his fingers just grazed the cotton material that was damp. you, yourself, couldn’t wait to get behind a closed door with him. when you saw him in that suit walk into your brothers apartment, you just knew you needed him alone.

his fingers moved from the fabric to inside of you, and a moan— that may have been too loud for trying to keep privacy—slipped out of your mouth. Jeremy shoved his tie in your mouth for you to clamp on. he couldn’t have you blow this.

chuckling to himself, he removed his fingers from inside of you. you watched him lick his fingers, joyfully, “you gotta be quiet if you don’t want your brother to know, baby girl.”

your legs were straddling his thick thigh. the moment he sat down next to you on the couch you mentally moaned and physically squirmed next to him. the dress pants were awfully tight on him, and he picked them for a reason. to toy with you.

shifting underneath you now, you felt him push his thigh up and down reminding you why you were in the family bathroom in the first place. “you gonna ride me, baby girl?” he whispered in your ear sending chills down your spine.

“like no tomorrow.” you felt his hands gripping your hips guiding you up and down the fabric carefully. you could feel the relief in your body finally having this moment. he was absolutely astounded by just how much joy and pleasure this was bringing you.

but on the other side of the door, there was your panicked brother searching for you. the last he saw you was at the bar ordering a drink, and ever since twenty minutes ago he hadn’t seen you since. he was asking everyone he knew, or just anyone in general, but nobody knew where you were.

“calm down, she’s gotta still be in the building. I’m sure she’s just doing her makeup.” Jake tried to calm him down because usually at events you stuck by Charlie’s side, and Jake knew this. but seeing your phone was still at the table, he had lost all hope you were still here.

“she doesn’t have her phone, man. I’m worried.”

one of the girlfriends had reported no one was in the ladies room, but one of the family bathroom doors was locked. his only hope was for you to still be in there, or else he was the worst brother ever and somehow let you slip out the building.

making his way to the family bathroom door he could smell your perfume. if it’s one thing Charlie ever knew, it was that he loathed the scent of warm vanilla. and that just so happened to be your scent, but this time he was glad to inhale it.

the loud knock of someone’s knuckles against the steel door was enough to jolt you off of Jeremy and immediately run to the mirror to fix yourself. the voice coming from the other side of the door was no one other than your brother. of course. you knew with how long you’d been gone, he had a search party looking for you.

“y/n, are you in there?” you heard his voice ring through the bathroom, you heard Jeremy whisper a few swear words trying to find somewhere to hide, but there was nowhere. you could not have your brother see you with him. not in the panicked state he was already in.

“yeah, hold on!” you peaked behind you to see Jeremy gesturing for you to go first and he’d somehow make his way out of the bathroom after you. you just had to make sure the door didn’t open wide enough to reveal you weren’t in there alone.

letting out a final sigh having brought yourself back to a decent state, you opened the door in the slightest, revealing your face to Charlie, and then squeezing your way out.

“it’s been twenty minutes, are you okay?”

smiling to yourself, you nodded, taking a glance back at the door to see Jeremy had just slipped out, he sent you a wink as you watched him adjust his tie, “oh I’ve never been better.”

#hockey imagines #hockey #jeremy swayman #Boston bruins #boston bruins fic #boston bruins imagine #Boston bruins blurb #Jeremy swayman x reader #charlie mcavoy #Jeremy swayman imagine #Jeremy swayman blurb #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #nhl blurb #nhl

[nhl-thingz]

I write for 4 other blogs but the hockey inspo is real so might be adding a 5th 👀😂🤦‍♀️

#hockey #jack hughes #nico hischier #nhl #trevor zegras #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trent frederic #charlie mcavoy #boston bruins #new jersey devils #jeremy swayman

[prettytoxicrevolver]

“i’ll be home for christmas, i promise.” with mcavoy?

You pace back and forth in your living room, your eyes flickering over to the TV with the ongoing weather report going on and on, mocking you and your Christmas plans.

Charlie was supposed to come to you for Christmas, but the weather was proving unforgiving. You were home in Ohio visiting your family and this would be the first Christmas with him if he could make it.

Your phone rings, snapping you out of your worried trance and you pick it up without a second thought.

“Stop staring at the weather report,” Charlie’s voice greets you and you can’t help but smile at his words.

“You’re gonna get stuck in Boston,” you pout even though he can’t see it.

“I’m not gonna get stuck,” he retorts.

“Charlie.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas, I promise,” he states and the conviction in his voice is enough to convince even the weather to cooperate.

Regardless, you spend the next few days checking the weather reports and Charlie’s flight but even when it gets canceled, he’s still determined to make it to you.

You sit on the couch in your parents living room, While You Were Sleeping plays on the TV and your dad snoozes intermittently on the opposite couch. Just as Sandra Bullocks character is heading back into the metro booth just before she gets proposed to, a knock sounds on your parents' front door.

You get up, heading over to the front of the house and swing the door open without a second thought. Your jaw drops open and a burst of excitement zips through you when you see Charlie standing in front of you, proud smile on his lips, happy he made it on Christmas Eve.

“I hate to say it beautiful,” he starts and you roll your eyes but grin. “I told you so.”

You can’t even offer a witty comeback, so incredibly happy to see your boyfriend in front of you that words have escaped your mind. You jump straight into his arms, wrapping them around his neck and he catches you with ease, swinging you around a bit before setting you down.

You lean up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips and he pulls you closer, the nerves in your body frayed at the feeling of his hands on your waist again.

“I’m so glad you made it.”

#charlie mcavoy fic #charlie mcavoy x y/n #charlie mcavoy blurb #charlie mcavoy x reader #charlie mcavoy drabble #charlie mcavoy imagine #boston bruins x y/n #boston bruins x fic #boston bruins x reader #boston bruins imagine #prettytoxicrevolver fic

[youwillfindilluminating]

omg their reception was at the boston public library I KNEW they had good taste

#charlie mcavoy #kiley sullivan #boston bruins #I'd recognize reading room lamps anywhere #imagine working there when they came around for the tour or whatever AHHHH #sully footing the bill for this wedding and thereby donating a fair amount of money to the public library #stop stop I'm already horny! #mike sullivan

[msmargaretmurry]

18, 21, 26?

18. who would be on your dream hockey team

i feel like this is supposed to be like, a team of the players i think are the best, but if i were allowed to build my own team it would just be dudes i desperately want to see interact with each other. like are you kidding me? i would immediately be out here putting connor mcdavid and dylan strome on the same team. i'm building the messiest team imaginable. i'll also take both tkachuks, obviously, leon, quinn — maybe josh norris too just to make quinn and brady happy. bear with me here but i would LOVE to see tom wilson and ryan hartman on the same team again, they would absolutely get up to some shenanigans. thatcher in goal, braden holtby as backup because he's not TECHNICALLY retired yet and all these children will need a daddy father (we are having a very holtby-centric day here on my blog, yes). if thatcher is there john hayden has to be there. i need more defensemen. charlie mcavoy and casey fitz. matty gryz can come too. sorry to leon that he's the only european on this roster so far. i don't even know how many roster spots i have left and i have not been paying attention to center/winger numbers at all but y'all get the idea. i think this team would win the stanley cup.

21. do you believe in any hockey curses?

i do not. i would LIKE to, honestly, it seems like fun. i do lightly believe in some minor conspiracies, if that counts.

26. if you were gm of your favorite team for a day what would you do? — answered here! ❤

#ask #hockey for ts

[bitchinbarzal]

Listening to Charlie McAvoy talk about his engagement is heartwarming and hilarious at once.

“Marchy gets the assist on that play”

“She wanted to share a bag and I was like no get your own bag”

“I couldn’t do it at Tukka’s wedding imagine just he’s saying his vows I’m like ‘Tuks’ could you hold on a sec?”

[bagelsunshinecoffee]

Okay so a mention of Charlie mcavoy/zdeno chara as a ship floated past my dash and normally I would not even register this.

But Charlie mcavoy was my grandparents’ neighbor growing up. Which means I instantly imagined trying to explain to my Nana what it means that people on the internet “ship” the little neighbor boy with chara 😭

#bruins #pucking around #incidentally this was funny because my grandparents live in long island #and always had to explain why their neighbors were proudly displaying a bruins flag

[chaotickryptonitetree]

ode to the maybes that make up the good stuff (us) | trent frederic

hes so underrated and I needed a reader who wasn't a genius (because I cant relate to smart people and why is the reader always smart??).

You were running late. 

And it–sort of–wasn’t your fault? 

Okay, it was your fault for oversleeping. But then your exam ran over the allotted time (they hadn’t even been passed out when you stumbled into the lecture hall, panting from sprinting from your parking spot, still blinking sleep from your eyes). And then your row was the last row to be dismissed. And yeah, it wasn’t really your fault. 

Speed-walking back to your car, you weighed your options. Your meeting would take you 20 minutes to get to with the mid-day traffic. And it was the kind of event where it was no use showing up late–might be better to just not show up at all. 

And then you passed your favorite coffee shop, and the wheel practically turned into the parking lot itself. Your boss would understand about the final and you could get notes from someone else later. Finishing that class called for a break–and as you turned off the ignition, you allowed yourself your first deep breath all morning. 

The perfect cure to a hectic morning was a fresh start and an almond-milk latte. 

The bell jangled as you opened the door–hit with the familiar smell of roasting beans and gingerbread muffins in the oven. Your exhale was cathartic. 

“Hey, welcome in!” The barista greeted you as you stood in the doorway, walking to join the line. For a random weekday, it was quite busy. You gave your order to the barista politely and walked to the only empty table left. 

You criss-crossed your legs in the booth, pulling out a book from your bag. Time–only interrupted by a swift hand placing a drink on your table and walking back to the counter–warped as your turned pages, eager to escape the craziness of the morning and happy to have a medium in which to do so. 

Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating small flecks of dust in the air. Condensation dripped down the side of your glass, collecting in a ring on the wooden table. The only noise to fill your space was the crisp turning of pages and background chatter filling in the blanks. 

Until it wasn’t.

“Excuse me,” said so quietly you thought you had misheard, you didn’t look up until someone cleared their throat. “Hey.” 

You looked up, squinting slightly from the sun. There was, in fact, the shadow of a very tall person standing near the edge of your table. Trying not to let your disappointment show, you dog-eared the page and closed the book gently. The background chatter roared on as you set your head on your hand, looking up at the voice from before. His face was still skewed by the harshness of the sunlight through the windows. 

“Sorry–didn’t hear ya…can I help you?” you spoke slowly, evenly to the faceless man. He coughed again, pausing too long to be normal given the circumstances. 

“Um, yeah…no, that’s alright!” He answered awkwardly. He then seemed to realize that he hadn’t truly answered the question and sighed. “Was wondering if I could share this table with you?” He seemed to be nervous about your response so he quickly spoke again. “You’re the only one with a spare seat.” 

Luckily, you were in a good mood and didn’t have any emotional attachment to the other side of the booth. “Go for it,” you said with the wave of a hand. “I don’t mind at all.” 

You could feel his smile in his exhale. “Really?” His voice was light and relieved, even as he sat down and moved his bag inside the booth before he slid in. You hummed in response, turning back to your book, head in hand. He respected your quiet, and the sound of him pulling notebooks and pens from his bag faded to background noise as you fell back into your chapter. 

And yet again, a drink being set down disturbed the peace. Your head flitted up, clocking the barista setting down a cold brew in front of the boy across from you. 

And then you got a good look at the boy across from you. 

He was big. Like big enough where you could see every muscle indented in his long sleeve shirt (not that you were staring or anything). A pretty blush painted his cheeks daintily, full mouth quirked to the side as he fiddled with the straw wrapper. Big, brown eyes met yours and widened when he realized you were already looking at him. 

“What?” he asked softly, plunging the straw into the drink and swirling slowly–ice clinking against the glass. 

“Nothing,” you closed your book again, shrugging slightly. “I just didn’t realize that you were handsome.” His blush deepened, creeping up his neck and to the tops of his ears. 

“Oh,” he fidgeted with his hands–which were easily the size of his face–”I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” 

You leaned into your hands more, endeared by his sudden shyness. “Well, it’s true.” You smiled as he tried to keep eye contact. “What’s your name, handsome?” 

He bit his lip, cracking his knuckles nervously. “Don’t wanna tell ya.” 

“And why is that?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

He smiled–a little less shy, eyes like amber in the sunlight. “So then you’ll have to keep calling me handsome.” 

You laughed into your palm. “I’ll call you pretty regardless, promise,” you held your pinkie out as a mocking gesture, “just tell me.” 

“Trent,” he wiped his hands on his sweatshirt and wrapped his pinkie around yours, “that’s me, I mean–yeah, my name.” He didn’t let go before you did, introducing yourself softly with a smirk. He felt like had a certain warmth–a comfort–wrapped around him like the blanket on your childhood bed. He felt kind.

The best beginnings always begin with that–a kindness. 

…

The next time you saw him, you were embarrassed. Your advisor had suggested that you enroll in a supplemental class during the night after a particularly hard semester academically–and as much as it hurt your ego, not going would hurt it more. 

So, you went to the class, despite feeling stupid. Eager to make yourself small, you chose a seat in the back corner, hood up as you got out your supplies. Maybe no one would recognize you, maybe you’d just be able to take the class and then slip out the door when it was over. No harm, no foul. 

But of course you could never be so lucky. Your eyes darted to the door just as he walked in–as sturdy and solid as ever. His backpack straps fought to keep the muscles of his shoulders and neck contained. The indentations of his triceps made his long sleeve flutter around him. 

And you were definitely staring–for much too long, you guessed–because your gaze drew his attention to your corner. His eyes smiled before his mouth as he made his way over to you. He looked–relieved?

“Thank god,” he sighed as he slid into the chair next to yours. “You’re here.” You searched his face for any sign that he was teasing, making fun of you in any way. At all. 

But you couldn’t find it. Still, you were tentative. “Yeah.” Really awesome conversation starter. He didn’t seem to mind. 

“I was scared that I wouldn’t see you again,” he pulled out his glasses and opened up his laptop–the light reflecting off of the lens artificially, “lucky me.” 

You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by the professor introducing themselves and projecting the syllabus. You turned toward the front and tried to tune in. 

But it was hard. Not because the class itself was going to be a challenge–it was only supplemental after all–because he was distracting. 

Distracting you with how cute his rosy cheeks looked under his glasses. How he mouthed words after the professor said them before writing them in his notes. How he nodded his head and actually paid attention the entire time. He was just trying hard. 

And it was alarming how endearing you found that. So, yeah, you half listened for the lecture–but it was intro stuff anyways. As you packed up your back, he let out an exhale and let you out to the door first, holding it open with his wide palm. 

“So, what do you think?” He asked, matching your pace as you walked to the parking lot. It was dark–and far colder than when you had entered the building a few hours earlier. 

“Hmm?” You hadn’t quite heard him–too busy watching him push his glasses up into his hair, making it stick up arbitrarily all around his head. He smiled a sideways little smile. 

“What do you think of the class?” 

“Oh,” and you were embarrassed again, “it’ll be fine. I could use a GPA boost,” you admitted. He nodded, even though you could guess he couldn’t relate. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” he said, even though he didn’t know you, “you’re smart.” 

You pinched your face together. “You don’t know that.” 

He smiled, shoving his shoulder into yours good-naturedly. “Yeah I do,” he was closer in your space now, “can tell by the way you talk.” 

You looked up at him–not convinced–but he was already looking ahead. “Which car is yours?” 

Nodding toward your car, parked away from all the others, he cracked his knuckles. “Cool, I’ll walk you there.” 

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I’ll give you a ride, but only because you’re being so cute tonight” He smiled–like he knew you’d ask. 

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He waited for you to unlock the car. 

His face was blushy from compliments and the cold. “Only the cute ones,” you said as you stepped into the car. He shook his head. 

…

Laundry day in a college dorm just might be the 5th circle of hell. Every machine is taken, none of them work right, and there’s always someone who dumps clothes on the ground–essentially making the room itself a battlefield. 

But at 2am on a Tuesday night–it was peaceful. Sure, there were still the clothes littering the ground like an overgrown garden, but the scent of fabric softener seemed to soften the air around you; low tumble of the machines a gentle lullaby as the campus stilled around you. 

Sitting atop the washing machine you were using, you waited for the cycle to be done. Stars interfered with the inky-black sky as it shone through the windows. And you watched. At this hour, there were no expectations, nothing to do, no one to impress. Just the silence around you. 

And then the door opened. And of course it was him. 

Hidden behind a large basket of clothes, looking adorably soft and sleepy in pajama pants, was Trent (again!). He didn’t seem to notice you as he sorted his clothes–large hands deft and meticulously parting darks and lights. You just watched. 

“Hey handsome.” You said softly as he stood to his full height, slightly startled. But once he realized it was you, he let out a relieved sigh and walked to stand across from you, leaning back on to the row of dryers. 

“Late night?” He spoke lowly, even if there was no need to whisper. As if he was cautious about disturbing the peace. 

You shrugged, pulling your legs into your chest atop the machine and wrapping your arms around them. “I like it,” you said honestly, “it’s the only time I get all to myself.” 

He nodded in a way that made you think he understood. “What did you do today?” You asked, eager to keep him there. 

He thought for a moment, looking slightly upward. Then told you all about his classes (they are interesting, but demanding), practice (just a light skate, they have a game tomorrow), and homework (he has a quiz in a few days). And you nodded, interested in anything he had to say. 

You switched over your laundry as you listened to him, adding in dryer sheets and humming accordingly. It struck you that each time you spoke to him, it felt easy. You picked up right where you left off, like you were old friends. It made you smile to yourself. 

“Whatcha thinkin about?” He interrupted your train of thought. Your eyes flitted up to his, sideways smirk gracing your lips. 

“You,” you answered honestly, knowing that it would make him blush more. He rubbed his eye and tried to hide his delight. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes playfully. But when you just kept looking at him, greedily, just because you knew he’d let you, he paused–a spark of hope lighting up his face. “Really?” His voice came out small. 

You tilted your head, nodding slowly. “Yeah.” He smiled like he knew something you didn’t. He probably did. “Will you tell me a secret?” You asked as he folded his clothes carefully. 

He thought for a moment, as if any sudden words would break the bubble around you both. “I did laundry yesterday,” he admitted, making you smile a wide, genuine grin, “just saw you in here and wanted an excuse to come in.” His blush was a splotchy watercolor painting his tired face. “Now you tell me one.” 

You pretended to think hard, emboldened by his admission. “I love it when you blush,” you said, “but I don’t think I’m doing a good job of keeping that a secret.” He shook his head, folding his last sweatshirt into his basket. 

“You can’t just say things like that,” he laughed lightly, eyes bright. 

“And why not?” You smiled as he stepped closer, close enough for you to see the freckles on his nose. Right in front of the dryer which you sat on. “It’s true.” 

Everything about him was soft. He smelled like he had just showered, and up close you could notice how his hair was still damp at the root. “Because,” he took a gentle thumb to your cheek, showing you the eyelash he had picked up. “It’ll ruin my tough guy reputation,” he flicked it off to the ground. You shivered at the loss of contact–however fleeting it was. “The guys are already giving me shit for how much I talk about the cute girl from the coffee shop.” 

You smiled. “You talk about me to your friends?” Was he getting even closer? 

He couldn’t break eye contact with you if he tried, nodding. “Can I tell you another secret?” You asked gently. He nodded again. “I have a crush on this really cute guy.” He laughed, shutting his eyes and letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. He practically radiated heat. 

“Oh great,” he smiled into the crook of your neck, “and I’m just supposed to go on with my night after this? Like a normal person?” 

You laughed with him and brought a hand to the nape of his neck, running your fingers through his half-damp hair. “How will you manage?” You joked, voice careful. 

He didn’t answer. And there you sat–atop a still warm dryer like the queen of the night, running your fingers through his hair until his arms wrapped around your back in perhaps the gentlest hug you could manage. You let your breathing slow to match his. You forgot what time it was, about your clothes. 

And when he held you like something soft and good, it didn’t really matter–did it? 

…

The stress of night class quickly melted into an excuse to see him two times a week (at least). You’d always get there first–and maybe you’d have an extra energy drink, just because–and then he’d stumble in a few minutes later, making a beeline for your designated corner (wearing his glasses if you were lucky). 

You set down his energy drink in front of him as he unpacked his bag. His eyes darted up to clock the motion before he smiled a sideways smile. “Sweet of you,” he said softly, still bent over his bag. “Thank you,” he added, settling in his seat. 

Nodding, you turned to the front–ready to dial in to the lecture. And you did! For a few minutes, before a notification popped up in the corner of your computer–an email in your school inbox. Switching tabs, you opened the email from an unknown sender. 

Really cute girl next to me. Pretty nervous. Should I make a move?? -T

Smiling to yourself, you immediately typed out a response. 

not sure…heard she usually goes for defensemen. 

A response came a moment later, his shoulder shaking slightly with a laugh. 

If i can beat one in a fight does that count? 

Electing to close out of your email, you settled for moving your chair a little closer to him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly over his sweatshirt. 

“I think you should make a move,” you whispered in his ear, reaching to take a sip of his drink. He leaned back into your touch, tilting his head down to respond. 

“Do ya?” His voice was low, eyes flickering down to your lips for just a second. You nodded, removing your hand from his shoulder. 

“Yeah pretty,” his eyes didn’t leave your mouth, “I really do.” 

But you could wait. And so you did. 

…

When he came back from away games, he was usually tired. And it was late anyways–maybe 11:30? But you were up writing an essay that was due in a few days. Your phone buzzed on the pillow near you. 

Any chance you’re still awake? 

You smiled to yourself, leaning back on the headboard and putting your laptop to the side. 

of course, you answered, paper due soon.

And then a moment later–but could be convinced to take a break??

Three gray dots appeared and then disappeared before his response. 

Was hoping you’d say that. 

And then–Be there soon. 

You smiled, continuing with your paper until a soft knock rapped on the door. 

“Come in!” Your voice was still hushed due to the late hour. He opened and closed the door softly, placing his backpack against the wall and slipping off his shoes. Wasting no time, he slid next to where you sat at the head of the bed, knee knocking against yours. You leaned into his side slightly, loving how warm he was. 

“How’s the paper?” He put his head on top on yours, looking at your computer above you. You didn’t answer, instead typing “eh,,,how was game?” into your document. He laughed, lips brushing against your hair. “Good. Got into a little fight.” He flexed his hand in front of you, knuckles raised and red. You ran a finger over the little cuts (he didn’t flinch) and wrapped both hands around one of his, rubbing your thumb over the veins on the back of his hand. 

He sighed, making you smile. “You should see the other guy?” You questioned, hoping he won whatever scrum he had likely started. 

He nodded slowly against your head, watching your hands work around his. “You should see the other guy,” he confirmed. And there you sat, comfortable and sleepy with a human furnace beside you. He smelled like green apples and a fireplace that had just burned through the kindling. He was cozy–everything about him. You turned just slightly, nose brushing the column of his throat. He shivered. 

“I love spending time with you,” he admitted, embarrassed and not making eye contact with you–as if meeting your eyes would cause the tips of his ears to catch fire. You hummed against his neck, slightly damp from his shower. “You make me laugh and you’re really pretty and it makes me happy when you make time for me,” he rambled on, stuttering slightly. 

“Yeah?” Your lips brushed his throat, prompting an embarrassing, whiny whimper from him. He looked up, giving you more space (even if he didn’t mean to). 

“Yeah,” his voice was small. 

You smiled into his neck, kissing the hollow of his throat, lips feather-light. “Well I like how smart you are,” you moved up, kissing just below his ear. “How kind you are to me,” his jawline, “how you blush when you’re embarrassed,” as if on cue, his ears lit up further. “Yup,” you kissed his ear, “just like that.” 

You felt his breathing labor next to you–chest rising and falling quicker than before. Fixated on your mouth, he started to reply. 

“Well I like–” and that’s as far as he made it before leaning in and gripping the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his in a kiss that burned. 

His lips were slightly chapped, and your teeth knocked into his, but the grip his massive hands had on your face made you lean closer to him–too enamored to care. Smiling against his mouth, you swallowed the groan leaving him eagerly. His hand slid to your jawline keeping you close to him. 

As if you’d ever leave. You placed another light kiss to the corner of his mouth as he caught his breath. 

“About time, eh?” He smiled down at you, eyes dark and bright. You brought his knuckle to your mouth–as if your lips would make the bruises disappear. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. 

“We got there,” you laughed lightly. “Worth the wait, right, handsome?” He ran a thumb over your cheekbone–always so gentle. 

He just snuggled up next to you and let his body get heavy next to yours. You felt him smile next to you. Some questions didn’t need answers. His slowed breathing as he fell asleep next to you was answer enough.

...

love you!

#trent frederic #boston bruins #nhl fic #nhl imagines #bruins #david pastrnak #brandon carlo #charlie mcavoy #matt poitras #hockey #nhl hockey #hockey stuff #nhl

[ao3feed-hockey]

Bonafide Stallion

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/VnqTCd4

by snorky

An informal exchange of tweets, tomfoolery, team-building beef, and reddit posts around a fire on a nice evening with some of the Boston Bruins.

Words: 546, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: boston bruins - Fandom, NHL - Fandom

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Charlie McAvoy, Brad Marchand, David Pastrnak, Patrice Bergeron, Torey Krug, Reader

Additional Tags: Hockey, Hockey Imagines, Reddit Posts, buds being buds, Charlie McAvoy’s New Nickname, Boston Bruins Imagine, Boston Bruins, Mutual Friendly Bullying, Brad’s Nose, Apparently he can also grill, Platonic Relationships

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/VnqTCd4

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #hockey rpf

[ilyasorokinn]

🥥 with charlie mcavoy please?🥰

yourusername

Liked by cmcavoy25, joelfarabee and 12,935 others

yourusername happy anniversary to my favorite loser. thanks for not giving up when things got hard. love you ❤️

tagged: @/cmcavoy25

View all 395 comments

cmcavoy25 love you too buddy.

bruinswags buddy 😭

cmcavoy25

Liked by yourusername, matthew_tkachuk and 14,294 others

cmcavoy25 my arm was asleep, but it was totally worth it. happy anniversary to my favorite person. i love you 💗

tagged: @/yourusername

View all 239 comments

yourusername love you too charles ❤️

bruinsfan they’re so cute 🥺

(photos not mine. found on pinterest.)

#charlie mcavoy imagine #charlie mcavoy imagines #charlie mcavoy x reader #charlie mcavoy edit #charlie mcavoy edits #charlie mcavoy #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl edit #nhl edits #nhl #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey edit #hockey edits #not hockey #boston bruins imagines #boston bruins imagine #boston bruins edit #boston bruins edits #boston bruins #taylor's edits #taylor's 1 year

[prettytoxicrevolver]

“i know you’re trying to be scary but you’re way too cute” with frederic, swayman or mcavoy? (pls i am so sorry i am requesting a lot but i am obsessed with your writing<3)

(I haven’t written for McAvoy in a bit so here ya go!) 

You and your best friend had been beyond excited about this halloween party for so long. You had decided on being vampires since you were first invited and the two of you were going all out in terms of makeup and outfits, trying your best to look scary. 

You were finishing up the touches of fake blood to drip down the sides of your mouth and perfectly slicking your hair back before teasing the ends so it looks messy but perfectly dracula-esque. 

“Babe you almost ready?” Your boyfriend calls to you and you snap your earring in place before heading out to the living room. 

Charlie is relaxed back on the couch, phone in hand as he scrolls mindlessly on whatever social media app. You creep as quietly as you can next to him and pausing when you’re just behind the couch. 

“Boo!” you yell out, sticking your face in front of his and opening your mouth to show your fake fangs. 

“I know you’re trying to be scary but you’re way too cute,” Charlie says, pecking the corner of your mouth. 

“You suck,” you tell him, shoving his head away from you and he rolls his eyes but grins anyway. 

“Love ya.” 

#charlie mcavoy x y/n #charlie mcavoy drabble #charlie mcavoy x reader #charlie mcavoy fic #charlie mcavoy imagine #Charlie mcavoy blurb #boston bruins x y/n #boston bruins x fic #boston bruins x reader #boston bruins imagine #prettytoxicrevolver fic

[bqstqnbruin]

could u write 76 and 63 with Charlie mcavoy for me please?🥰

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @stlbluesbrat21 @airplaneanon @dembenchboys @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

76. "I named my little plant after you."

63. "We make the best team."

Word Count: 573

______________________

“Daddy’s home!” you hear your six year old, Henry, squeal at the sound of your front door opening, followed by him giggling from what you could only assume was Charlie picking him up, lifting him up over his head and kissing his son on the cheek hello, their usual ‘welcome home routine’ whenever your husband had returned from a road trip.

“Where’s Mom?” you hear him ask, Henry telling him that you were up in your room.

“Hey, there,” you say to him, thankful that Henry had run off somewhere else. “I’ve missed you.”

Charlie climbs on the bed with you, positioning himself over you as he kisses you hello. “I’ve missed you, too, babe.”

The two of you get busy, owing it to the fact that he had been gone on the longest trip so far this season when you hear Henry approaching your door, your son doing everything in his power to not stay quiet for whatever it was he needed to show you right that moment.

Charlie practically launches himself off you, both of you trying to fix yourself before Henry burst through your door. “Daddy, daddy, look!” he finally comes in, right as you manage to steady your breath. He was holding the little flower that one of his classmates gave him at school the other day.

“What kind of flower is that, bud?” Charlie asks, picking up your son and holding him in his lap, Henry beaming at the little red plant as she shoved it in Charlie’s face.

“A red one,” he proudly says, you and Charlie unable to not chuckle at his innocence. “I named it after you, Daddy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that way, when you’re not here, I always have Daddy with me.” Charlie looks at you, his mouth hanging open while Henry admires his flower. You knew it was going to be dead or dried out in a few days, making a mental note to try to find the same flower to buy for him, or at least something similar enough that he wouldn’t notice.

Henry babbles on a little while longer about the flower, the classmate who gave it to him, moving on to his day at school, and then something even you had no idea what he was talking about before bouncing off into his room.

“He misses you when you’re gone, too,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“I miss you guys when I’m gone,” Charlie says, twisting around to kiss you. “What would he do if he didn’t have you?”

“This entire house would burn down, society would cease to exist,” you joke, Charlie letting out a deep laugh. “I can’t do it without you, though.”

“Well, yeah, it takes two to tango. We make a good team, don’t we?”

“We’re the best team, but I carry us.”

Charlie looks at you, acting insulted by your words when you knew he wasn’t. “Oh, do you? You think you can talk to me like that?” he jokes, getting back to how the two of you were before Henry came in to show you the flower.

“I think I can,” you say as he trails kisses down your neck, “If you lock the door so that Henry doesn’t come in again.”

“On it,” Charlie clears his throat, making sure to run down the hall first to check to make sure that Henry would be occupied for long enough, first.

#charlie mcavoy #charlie mcavoy imagines #blurb weekend 521 #boston bruins #boston bruins imagines

[nhl-stories]

I’m Such A Fool – Charlie McAvoy

Requested: Yes ∆ No

Author’s Note: This started as something very different and turned into this, so hope you enjoy. Warnings for pregnancy and abortion.

Word Count: 5k

AUGUST

You knocked on the door of Matt’s apartment, you were already in a bad mood before you had gotten your mail and now you felt abysmal.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Charlie McAvoy answered the door.

The creases in your frown deepen and he has the nerve to laugh, “I can’t wait for your face to freeze that way.”

You shove past him into the apartment, finding Matt on the couch where you jumped on him, desperately needing a hug.

His warm arms squeezing you tight, he gently rubbed your back.

“I take it you saw the invitation.”

“The day already sucked, then I got the invite, then I saw Char here. So I’m basically at rock bottom today.” You make sure to enunciate the nickname he hates so much.

“Yeah and you’re interrupting guys night, so no one is happy.” Charlie sneered as he took a seat on the adjacent chair.

You sat up on the couch, face scrunched up in disgust, “you guys play hockey for a living, basically every night is guys night.”

“It’s not my fault Matt is your only friend.”

“Oh sorry that in my darkest hour I come to my oldest friend in the world.”

Before he can respond, there was another knock on the door.

“Y/N go get that, I can’t risk leaving you two alone for even a second.”

Even though you were both adults, you pouted like petulant children. Regardless, you got up and answered the door to reveal Jake Debrusk with a case of beer.

He rips it open and hands you one, “You look like you could use one.”

You have wry smile and crack open the beer. You retake your spot on the couch, resting your head on Matt’s shoulder.

“They’re doing this on purpose. Like if I don’t go they know I’m bitter and if I do go I have to see them get married,” you mumble miserably.

“I don’t think they’re doing this on purpose,” Matt said, trying to reason, “She’s one of your friends and she wants to share this day with you.”

“They’ve been engaged for over two years, was it too much to ask that they break it off and I forgot about them entirely?”

“Take this as an olive branch, you guys used to be really close.”

“So this is you agreeing to be my date to the wedding? Cause I can’t be a loser who goes alone on top of everything else.”

You shoot a glare at Charlie before he can take the loser comment and run with it.

“Fine.” Matt huffs dramatically, as if he wouldn’t have said yes.

“Now that this is sorted, you can leave,” Charlie butts in.

He always got under your skin, but today felt extra.

“Char, you know these people. They went to BU with us.”

This seemed to pique his interest.

“It’s Olivia and Peter.” Matt says flatly before handing over the invite sitting on his coffee table. 

“Peter Lillard?” You both nod, “that guy is an asshole.”

“Wow, something Charlie and I agree on.” You stand up, “I should leave before we all get sucked into some sort of apocalyptic wormhole.”

“Good riddance, Y/N,” Charlie laughs as you walk out.

But you hear a punching sound and smirk to yourself knowing he got what he deserved.

OCTOBER

You were running late and cursing your choice to take the T while wearing heels; you refused to take a Lyft during surge pricing and you’d walk miles in snow to stick by that conviction. But the heels, your lateness, your tipsiness, and the fact you were in a revealing Halloween costume made for a miserable combination on public transit.

Your phone was blowing up with worried texts from Matt, you were known for your almost anal punctuality. Making it into the bar you were immediately pulled in a hug by your best friend.

He was clearly too sober for how late in the evening it was, “I was worried.”

“Sorry I got held up.”

Once he was certain you were okay he grins, “Happy Halloween.”

“You clearly need a drink, I’ll go grab you one.”

You slithered through the crowd to the bar, ordering a couple shots and two beers. You felt your buzz wearing off as you waiting for your drink.

With drinks in hand you meander around the bar until you find Matt. You’re both quick to take the shots before you can even register who he’s with.

“I know you’re usually on time, but I would have expected you to be in worse shape with how worried Gryz was,” Jake joked.

“She also wasn’t texting me...” Matt says, red faced and embarrassed.

“He’s been ignoring that girl all night because of it.” Jake nodded towards the girl clearly making eyes at the brunette.

“Matty seriously? If I would have known I would have definitely arrived early, made sure I was the perfect wingman.”

He rolls his eyes and keeps his attention on you, “ was your other party fun?”

“Yeah clearly she was having tons of fun,” Charlie chimed in.

Their eyes followed Charlie’s to your exposed chest and the red marks peeking out.

You immediately regretted letting your friend convince you to wear such a revealing dress. You pulled the neckline up but your legs felt too exposed and there was no happy medium.

If you were more in your element, you might have thought of a good comeback; perhaps one pointing out that he was ogling at your chest. Something sure to get Matt’s blood boiling.

He piled on more before anyone else could comment.

“And this is a costume party, we already know you’re a witch.”

You shoot him a glare but are interrupted by Pasta stealing your hat as he pulls you out onto the dance floor.

You dance for most of the night, only with small breaks to help Matt get acquainted to his admirer. Going as far as giving her a drunken pep talk in the bathroom. Last call rolls around and you’re quick to get one last drink in.

As soon as you turn away from the bar with your drink, you crash into another body, you can feel the cold drink run down your stomach, soaking your dress.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I–“ You stop your reflex apology, “What the hell Char?”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose, my whole goal in life is not to make you miserable.”

“It sure feels like it is,” you mumble under your breath.

Charlie grabs some napkins from the bar, he starts to dab at your chest and you snatch them away. Your own attempts not doing much other than wasting paper.

“Have you seen Matt? I’ll just go home with him and get some dry clothes.”

“He left with that girl a while ago.”

You groan out in frustration, you had already decided stumbling the much closer distance to his place was preferable. You whip out your phone to see the trains will stop running soon.

“Damnit, I’ll just try and catch the last train home,” you move as fast as you can in your heels but are pulled back by one strong, swift yank.

“I’m not letting you take the T alone.”

“If this is you trying to take me home, hard pass.”

“Jesus fuck that’s the last thing I want,” he says this with a little less venom than he normally would, “but you’re drunk and Matt would kill me if I didn’t call you a car and make sure you were safe.”

You want to protest, but the thought of taking a warm car home is too tempting.

“Fine.”

“Now what do you say when someone does something nice for you?”

“Thank you, Char.” You overdramatically bat your eyelashes.

DECEMBER

You were sitting on the floor outside his door. You were doing him a favor and he was late. It was a pet peeve of yours and soured your already unpleasant mood.

You had been asked to be a bridesmaid for the wedding you didn’t even want to attend, much less be involved.

You obsessively picked at one particular cuticle that you had been trying to get all day. Thankful that Olivia had a sister and you weren’t somehow Maid of Honor and furious at late people.

After many attempts you finally got the piece of skin just as you heard the rattle of metal down the hall.

There was Charlie and his dog, Otto, walking down the hall; you jumped up from your spot on the ground.

“Sorry we’re late, someone had to smell every tree on the way back,” Charlie nodded towards the dog.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine,” your frustration melting at his civility.

He lets you into his place and takes Otto off his leash. He immediately jumps on your legs.

“Hi little guy, you’re so cute,” your dog voice coming out immediately as you crouch down to the little pup.

“Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” You look confused for second before you spot the scarlet drip, “oh god.”

Charlie rushes to grab a paper towel, wrapping it around your finger and applying pressure.

“Sorry, I um- I pick at my cuticles when I’m overwhelmed,” you reply lamely, but letting Charlie continue to apply pressure.

“Overwhelmed?”

This is the most civil you two had been since you first met, and it felt oddly nice.

You don’t know what came over you, maybe just the need to vent or the fact that Charlie’s opinion of you probably couldn’t get any worse.

“Just that wedding, I just got asked to be a bridesmaid and I couldn’t exactly say no but I wanted to. I don’t know, I don’t want to be a bitch because we used to be the best of friends. I don’t know. I’m a bad person.”

Silence clings in the air and you feel your heartbeat in the tip of your finger from the pressure.

“You already know I think you’re a bad person.” He gives an airy chuckle and you pull away your hand.

“So what am I supposed to do with this little guy?”

“Right. Thanks for doing this, you’re the only person I know staying in the city over the holidays.”

You curtly nod.

“If you want you can stay here if it’s easier, but just feed him in the morning and at like dinner time and then take him out whenever you have time.”

“You know I have a real job right?”

“You’re a hotel receptionist...”

“And a part time concierge,” you roll your eyes, things feel in balance again.

“Whatever. Stay here to make it easy. Or don’t, Otto is pretty chill overall, so I don’t think you’ll have any problems.” He rummages in his pocket and hands you a key.

“And you guys get back when... January 5th?”

“The 7th.”

“Cool. I guess see you later,” you give a small wave before crouching down to the dog, “and we’re gonna have so much fun together once your dad is out of town.”

JANUARY

The bell at the front desk rang. It was nearing the end of your shift and you weren’t expecting a guest to check in.

You take a deep breath and try to put on a professional smile as you exit the back room.

“Sorry for the wait how can I- oh. What are you doing here?”

Charlie was leaned up against the desk in a rumpled suit.

“Um- Matt had to see the trainers after the flight but he wanted to get you your birthday gift before it ended.” He pulls a bag and places it on desk.

You pull it to the other side, but look up with a raised eyebrow, waiting by for more.

“And I hadn’t seen you since you looked after Otto, and I got you a gift too,” his cheeks tinted pink as he said that.

You bit your lip to hold back a small laugh.

“I saw this and thought you’d like it,” he gingerly places a small stuffed dog in front of you.

“Awww, it’s a mini Otto,” you smile for what feels like the first time in days.

“I actually think Otto-“ he’s cut off by the sound of your phone alarm going off.

The sound instantly brings you back to reality and tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“Y/N...?” He gently probes.

“It’s nothing, thanks for the gift,” your voice cracks.

“Crying on your birthday doesn’t seem like nothing.”

He’s clearly uncomfortable and you can’t quite tell if it’s because he’s bad with crying people or because it’s you... crying.

“It’s just- it’s,” you run into the back room real quick and come back with a pregnancy test.

“Can you look, I can’t,” you hold out the test.

“Fuck, um it’s two little lines. I don’t know what that means.”

But you place your head in your hands, letting the tear pour out.

“Clearly this was not planned, but Matt’s gonna be happy.”

You snap your head up, “what?”

“Like Griz is a good guy, he’ll be excited to be a dad.”

“You think Matt and I are... god no that would be literally sleeping with my brother.”

“You guys are just so close and you’re always around, I guess I just assumed.”

“He dates other girls,” getting stuck on this topic felt better than the reality.

“I always thought you two had one of those ‘if we haven’t met someone by 40 we’ll marry each other’ things. I don’t know it doesn’t actually make any sense.”

“No we’re not a thing and it’s not his.” You let out a heavy sigh.

“And please don’t tell him about this, he’ll just get all ‘I can raise the kid as my own’ and ‘I’ll kick the dude’s ass.’ And I just can’t deal with that.”

“Do you know who the dad is?”

You shoot him a stern glance, “Yes. And he’s like a non-factor and— you’re like the last person I want to be talking to this about, or I guess second to last, after Matt.”

“I’m more than happy to leave,” he starts to back away, “or I can kick that guy’s ass for you or I can drive you home.”

“No, please leave me to wallow on my own.”

“If you’re sure?” you nod, “okay enjoy the last 10 minutes of your birthday.”

FEBRUARY

You had never been a fan of Valentine’s Day, but this had to be the worst one anyone had ever had.

“So you don’t have to hang around or anything but you have to come in and give them your ID to show I have someone who can drive me home.”

“And remind me again why I’m the one doing this?” Charlie raised an eyebrow but didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“Cause we’re the best of friends.” You deadpanned, causing both of you to laugh.

“Really it’s cause all my friends have V Day plans, even Matt.”

“Yeah what guy plans a date on Valentine’s with a girl he’s just started seeing?”

“Matt.” you say in unison.

“Also it helps that you already know I’m pregnant.”

He nervously laughs.

“And it doesn’t hurt that you already have a negative opinion of me.”

He abruptly stops the car as he parks, jarring you forward.

“This doesn’t make you a bad person,” he looks almost hurt by your comment, “And you getting an abortion doesn’t change what I think about you, I don’t get an opinion cause it’s not my life and not my body.”

This was the last response you thought you’d hear him say. You’re not really sure how to respond, but there’s a wave of relief and warmth that washes over you.

Without thinking you lean over and kiss his cheek. It’s platonic yet intimate and you’re immediately blushing. But you hope it conveys how grateful you are. How even though you didn’t know it, those were the words you needed to hear. 

Charlie pulls his hat down low as you enter the clinic. He’s not the most recognizable Bruin, but this is the last place and honestly you’re the last person he’d want to get spotted with.

The check in is extra awkward as he hands over his ID, all but confirming to the receptionist that he is in fact Charlie McAvoy. She tried to hide her clear intrigue and you hope she is a strict follower of HIPPA.

You let him leave while you wait to get called back, telling him to come back in an hour and a half or so; mostly because you don’t want to awkwardly flip through pamphlets next to him in the waiting room. 

The procedure itself goes well, it’s a little uncomfortable but not more so than any other gynecological visit.

The worst part is the recovery room where you sit next to the rest of the sad souls who chose Valentine’s Day as the best day to get an abortion.

You assumed the rest of them were like you and found the 14th to be the first day they had time off to get the procedure and maybe they also had a dark sense of humor.

“So is this your man’s idea of a romantic date too?” The woman sitting next to you gives a Cheshire smile.

You lightly chuckle in response, “No, I don’t have a man, hence the romantic getaway I gave myself.”

You two chatted until the nurse told you, you could get back in your own clothes and go.

As you both made your way into the waiting room you saw Charlie awkwardly sitting in a chair with Otto in his lap and a heart shape box of chocolates. As soon as he spotted you he stood up, Otto clambering to get to you.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a honey?”

“He’s just my designated driver.”

“My boyfriend isn’t even here on time and this boy brought you a dog and some chocolates. I would lock him down if I were you.”

You give an awkward chuckle before kneeling down to pet Otto.

“Thought you might want a friend when you came out.” He smiles almost as if he’s the friend he’s referring to, “And some chocolate, I know it’s not your period but my sisters always say chocolate solves all lady problems.”

You take the heart and try to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

You don’t talk as he drive you back to your building and you’re surprised when he finds a parking spot and follows you up to your apartment. On any other day you might be annoyed and make a comment, but today you welcome the company, especially Otto.

You set your stuff down on the coffee table and go to get some ibuprofen. Charlie awkwardly stands in the living room, unsure what to do. On your way to the kitchen you wordlessly shove the TV remote into his chest. You get yourself a glass of water and downing it with the pills.

You realize you should be somewhat of a good hostess, “Do you want anything to drink? Water? Beer? Wine? I think we might have some White Claws or something?”

“Uh a beer is fine.”

You grab two beers and fill a bowl with water for Otto. Charlie is sitting on the far edge of the couch with Otto resting at his feet. You sit on the other end and wrap a blanket around you as the opening of Wayne’s World starts. You smile to yourself, it’s one of your favorites and a movie that always puts you in a better mood.

“I was gonna order a pizza and chill, if that’s in your diet plan,” he looks shocked at your question.

“You’re under no obligation to stay though.”  

“Pizza sounds good.” He smiles and leans back and Otto jumps up on his lap.

“I like this whole us being cordial thing,” he smirks.

“Cheers to that,” you agree and clink beers with him.

You’re finished with the pizza and halfway through Wayne’s World 2. You’re now curled up on the couch, Otto  curled up by your chest and your feet lightly touching Charlie’s thigh. The cramps are coming over you with a vengeance.

Just as Wayne and Cassandra run away from her wedding you let out a sob, the emotions just taking over you. Otto licks your face in response.

“Are you okay? Do you need pain killers or-“

“It was Peter’s baby.” You cry out the confession.

“What?”

“I’m a bridesmaid in his wedding, I’m friends with his fiancee, and I got pregnant with his baby. I’m an awful, trash, terrible person.”

Charlie is unsure what to say, he opts to gently rub your leg.

“I liked him first, but that doesn’t make it okay. I’m just some dirty mistress whore.”

Charlie opens his mouth to say something.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just needed to tell someone. I’ve been holding it all in for too long.”

He hums a response in a tone you can’t quite decipher. And shockingly pulls you into a hug. When he lets go he keeps a gentle hand on your leg but doesn’t say another word as he goes back to watching the movie. 

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep after your tearful admission, but you woke up tucked into your bed. Your apartment was empty and you were alone, just like you deserved.

APRIL

Ever since your confession you had tried your hardest to avoid Charlie, and he seemed to be doing the same.

This proved to be pretty difficult with your mutual friend in Matt. It meant you were almost cutting him out of your life as you tried to avoid home games or team meetups or even just going to his place. 

All for the fear that seeing Charlie would stir up too much emotion.

At some point you knew you’d have to run into him. So you finally just let it happen.

Matt’s new girlfriend, Katie, had been asking you to come to a game with her; she was new to watching hockey and needed someone to explain the rules.

Plus, Matt had point blank asked for you to come help Katie out in front of her and  both your families at Easter dinner so you couldn’t exactly say no. That and you’re a terrible liar and everyone would instantly see through any excuse you make.

The only lie you can really get through is a lie of omission.

So you find yourself in the Garden wearing a matching jersey with Katie. The atmosphere feels like home and any haywire nerves seem to dissipate as the first puck is dropped.

You enjoy the company and answer all of Katie’s questions; she’s solely a baseball fan but catches on pretty quickly to the rules. She’s also a bit of a bad influence as she talks you into one too many beers.

You’re both stumbling and giggling as you make your way near the locker room waiting to congratulate Matt on the big win.

“Oh no Matt you have double trouble,” Pasta said as he locked eyes on the whispering pair.

“I shouldn’t have let you two become friends.” Matt laughs before pulling Katie in for a kiss.

Pasta wraps an arm around you, “Coming out with us tonight?”

“I got nothing better to do,” you laugh, but your smile quickly fades as Charlie comes out of the locker room. You had completely forgotten you were still trying to avoid him.

Despite your better efforts, you two were literally shoved together in the center of a large booth.

“Hey Char,” you bump his shoulder, trying to pretend like he wasn’t the one who took you to get an abortion or the only one who knew you were a mistress of sorts.

“Hi, Y/N, almost didn’t recognize you. Haven’t really seen you since Matt’s replaced you.” He gives you a cheeky smile.

One of the guys slides some beers down to you two and you wink at him instead of giving your usually snarky remark.

You spend most of the evening yelling over the sound of the bar to talk to Matt and Katie, catching up on what felt like years away from your bestie.

All the while you kept stealing looks at Charlie. Every time you’d look over he’d quickly move his eyes away.

Katie leans over and whispers in your ear, “Are you and Charlie like a thing?”

You widened your eyes in shock, but the thought didn’t make you sick like it would have just a few months ago.

“Oh does Matt not know?” She fills in the blank herself.

You still can’t find the right words to say, “I can distract Matt if you need to talk to him real quick.”

“That’s not necessary,” But it was too late.

“Let’s get another drink Matt, do you want anything Y/N?” She continues to shove Matt out of the mostly empty booth, “Never mind I’ll just have Matt choose something for you.”

You could feel your cheeks burning as you turned towards Charlie, your knee bumping his.

“I feel like I need to explain a little bit,” you let out a heavy sigh.

“Want to get out of here, talk in private.”

“Nah, Matt’s head might explode if you and I left a bar together.”

“So Olivia was my roommate all through college and Peter was in a bunch of my classes and I liked him so much, but all we ever did was hook up.”

“I went abroad in Junior year and came back and all of a sudden they were dating and it was serious, even though she knew I really liked him.”

“Then they got engaged and moved away from Boston, but Peter kept coming back and every time he would say all these wonderful things about me and I’m just here stuck in this dead end job where I’m never going to get promoted.”

You felt light headed actually putting it all out there, and Charlie just stared on, stone-faced

“And it was nice to be wanted by someone and maybe get revenge on Olivia, I don’t know. It’s not excuse and I’m still trash but-“

“That’s just what he wanted,” Charlie cuts you off.

“When we were in school, I met you real quick at a pregame and I instantly had a crush,” you bite your lip to hold back a smile or a biting comment you’re not sure.

“And then we were at another party and I guess Peter caught me staring and he told me to not even try because you were so hung up on him and the moment he wanted you, you’d come running. He always wanted you to be his little lap dog.”

“He said what?” Your heart ached and your blood boiled.

“I thought if this is the kind of asshole you’re into then you’re probably an asshole too. Which makes no sense cause Grizz wouldn’t be friends with you then.”

You both smile.

“Then I got drunk and was a little abrasive to you and you just dished it right back and that’s how we both got here.”

You leaned forward and kissed him square on the mouth. It’s short and simple, but shocking nonetheless.

A smile starts to spread across his face but he doesn’t have time to respond  because Matt is placing a drink front of you.

“You two actually getting along?” He laughed at the mere thought.

“Yeah, ever since we bonded over Otto we’re trying this new grown up thing called communication.” Charlie laughed.

His arm rests on the booth behind you, not quite touching you but you could feel a heat in his closeness. You were having a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Your head swirling with his words and your actions.

“I’m gonna head out. But Y/N? You need to tell her, otherwise you’re always gonna be right where he wants you, and you’re better than that.”

He shrugs on his coat and wanders off and you focus on sucking up the rest of your drink in one go to avoid the eyes boring into you.

“What the hell was that about?”

You wave your best friend off, “I’ll tell you later.”

MAY

There was a pep in your step and a weight off your shoulder as you made your way to Matt’s apartment.

Matt opened the door, your arrival is unexpected but not a complete surprise. You’re pushing past him before he can start talking.

“So I guess you heard.”

You’re barely paying attention to Matt as you make it into the living room to find Charlie, who’s now eyeing you suspiciously.

“Can you believe it? They called off the wedding.”

“Uh-huh,” you respond but you’re busy having a conversation with Charlie using only your eyes.

His eyebrow is raised in question.

“He apparently been cheating on her this whole time.”

“Yup,” you give a small smile to Charlie as if to answer his question.

“You don’t seemed shocked at all.” Matt is now the suspicious one.

“Yeah I was the other woman and I told Olivia.” You finally look back towards Matt.

“You and Peter? For how long?”

“A year I guess, Matthew we can hash this out later.” You turn back to Charlie, “Do you want to go out with me?”

“Like right now?” Charlie questions.

“Yeah, you’re just hanging here so clearly you’re free.” You bite your lip but can’t hold back the smirk.

“What is going on?!” Matt shouts.

“I’m gonna go on a date with your best friend and she’s…” he holds out a hand to prompt you to fill in the blank.

“I’m gonna go on a date with your teammate now. And will set a time aside to just talk through everything because I’ve been omitting a lot for the past year-ish and we’re gonna need a lot of time and a lot of alcohol.”

Matt just stands stunned unsure of what to say or do. You pull him into a tight hug and kiss his cheek, “Let’s get out of here, Char.”

“Still don’t love the nickname,” he laughs wrapping an arm around your shoulder, leaving a stunned Matt in the dust.

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[secretlittlerandezvous]

Morning After - Charlie McAvoy

Summary: Charlie and the reader wake up in the morning after getting engaged the previous night.

Words: 1256

“Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.” – Dante Alighieri

 “Y/n,” Charlie said as he kneeled down onto one knee right in front of me. His eyes were locked on my face while he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little box. He was smiling at me widely, yet a little bit of nervousness was visible on his face, he reached for my hand and held it tightly. “Y/n, my love, the last two years with you were honestly the best years of my life. I simply can’t imagine being with anyone else and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted to do a long speech, but I think I’m going to get straight to the point,” I brought my free hand to my face and quickly wiped away the tears that were falling down my face from the happiness. I knew what was about to happen, but shock and disbelief took over me anyway. It was surreal. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

 “Of course, I will! Yes!” I yelled out and kneeled down next to Charlie to wrap my hands around him. He kissed my cheek and then he grabbed my hand and pulled a beautiful engagement ring out of the box. My hands were shaking from all the emotions, but he still managed to put the ring on my finger. There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind about it. I’ve spent the last two years with my best friend, the love of my life and I knew for sure I didn’t want anyone else. For the past two years, he’s been making me the happiest and proudest person in the world and it was easy to see myself spending the rest of my days with him by my side.

…

I woke up in the morning because of the sunlight falling directly into my face even through the white curtains that were covering the windows of our master bedroom. I covered my eyes with a blanket with the hope of falling back to sleep but it was hard to do so. The brightness of the room and sunlight made it impossible for me. I opened my eyes and looked around the room and then on my left where I found Charlie peacefully sleeping. His messy hair fell into his face and a slight smile was noticeable on his lips. I smiled as I watched his chest calmly and regularly go up and down and up again with each breath he took. Quiet snores occasionally left his mouth. I wanted to kiss him badly, cover his face with my kisses and wake him up so we could snuggle up together and enjoy the early morning together, but I resisted as I decided to leave him to sleep undisturbed for a little longer.

I got on my side to face Charlie, taking in all his features. His pink plump lips that were now slowly opened so the little snores could escape from his mouth. His strong arms and chest or his smooth and tanned skin and slightly pink cheeks. In the light of last night’s engagement, I once again confirmed to myself that I was ready and more than happy to spend the rest of my life with him. I was content with waking up to him in the mornings and falling asleep in his arms. I accepted the fact that most of the year his schedule would be too busy. I was content with the decision we made last night.

I slowly brought my eyes to my engagement ring and finally looked at it properly. Last night I focused on Charlie and celebrating our engagement and then again, I couldn’t really see through the tears in my eyes. But now I had a moment to adore the ring, adore the man who was now my fiancé and think of ways we would announce it to our families. I replayed the whole engagement in my head countless times and it still felt a little surreal. I was afraid I would wake up sooner or later only to find out it was just a dream and nothing of it happened. Whenever Charlie slept next to me while I was wide awake, I started thinking of us and our relationship and I could never figure out how did I ever get so lucky and found such a perfect, kind, loving and respectful man like Charlie? How did I ever deserve to be loved by someone like him?

Charlie’s hand reached for mine and he brought them to his lips. He kissed my hand over the engagement ring lazily and a wide smile was already present on his lips while his eyes remained closed. He let out a few sighs probably because he didn’t enjoy the sunlight disturbing his sleep.

“Good morning,” he said with a raspy voice and got closer to me to rest his head on my stomach.

“Morning love,” I said back and started playing with his hair. Charlie’s hands then wrapped around my hips and he lazily kissed my stomach and traced little circles around my belly button. “Did last night really happen or is this just a really good dream?”

“I’m pretty sure it happened,” Charlie nodded. “And if it’s a dream then I promise I will propose to you when we wake up.”

“Last night was perfect Charlie,” I smiled and memories of last night crept into my mind once again. Probably for a thousandth time since waking up.

“You like the ring?” He asked with curiosity and lifted my left hand up in the air so we both could get a good look at the engagement ring.

“I love it,” I smiled. “Really Charlie everything is perfect. I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“Uhmm I’m glad,” he mumbled. “I have a good taste after all.”

“You picked the ring by yourself?” I asked raising my eyebrow.

Charlie looked up at me and smiled mischievously. I knew immediately he wouldn’t tell me the truth. “That’s a piece of very private information that I’m not going to share.”

I always wanted mornings like this one. Slow and warm early mornings on the weekends that seem to last forever, they seem to be never-ending. Mornings filled with love and deep laughs, warm hugs and cozy blankets. Lazy smiles and raspy morning voice of my love. Fresh coffee and good music that we both like so much. And Charlie seemed to give me everything I ever wanted even without me ever asking for it or mentioning it in front of him. I found happiness in him. In his eyes that glisten whenever he smiles and how his dimples decorate his smile even more. In his strong loving arms and how warm his chest is whenever he pulls me into a hug and in the way he makes even the worst of days better with saying just the right thing. His presence was warmer than the sun could ever be.

“So, are you ready for some breakfast future Mrs. McAvoy?”

“Just a few more minutes please,” I whined and snuggled up to him. This time I rested my head on his chest, tightly wrapped my hands around his body and enjoyed how he carelessly played with my hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too babe.” He whispered, kissed my forehead and pulled a blanket over us. We both closed our eyes and enjoyed the moments, remembering every second of it and every emotion we felt.

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