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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Guess the Two of Us

Hey folks! I’ve been watching Cut videos recently to get inspiration for more Lions social media fics and have found several wonderful ideas. This is based on the video where someone has to match up couples from a group people they’ve never met--I love O’Knutzy, but seeing as they’re not out yet, I did not include them in this.

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Grace is mine! Let me know if you’re still enjoying the social media fics :)

“Do I just talk to the camera?” a young woman in a yellow dress asked. Someone offscreen nodded and she smiled. “Hello, hockey fans! I’m Grace and I’ll be doing a video for the Lion Pride channel today.”

“Grace, do you keep up with the hockey world?” Marlene’s voice was a bit muffled behind the camera.

“Not at all, I’m more into softball, baseball, that kind of thing.”

“Do you live in Gryffindor?”

“Nope! I’m visiting family and I was in the coffee shop across the street when someone offered to have me film a video for the network.”

“We’re going to bring ten people out and you’re going to match the couples. Sound good?”

“Oh, god, this is going to be hard,” Grace laughed. “Sure, I’ll give it a tryrst.”

“Alright, the rest of you can line up behind her. Grace, I’ll tell you when you can turn around and start guessing. You can ask them to hold hands, kiss, dance, whatever will give you a better idea of their relationship.” Ten people walked out from behind the camera into a loose semi-circle. “Ready? Go!”

“Whew, okay, no pressure.” Grace turned to face them. “Okay, first one.” She bit her lip and scanned the group, then pointed to Lily and Natalie hesitantly. “You both look very nice and very intimidating. Could you come here for a second and hold hands?”

“Are you using new moisturizer?” Lily asked as she twined their fingers together; Kasey covered his mouth in the background. “Your hands are so soft.”

Grace looked between them for a moment, narrowing her eyes. “As much as you two would make an absolute power couple, I think you’re just really good friends. Who’s the guy that’s laughing over there?”

“I’m Kasey,” he said around his laughter.

“You’re her boyfriend, aren’t you?” She gestured to Natalie; he didn’t answer the question, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah, I’m calling it.”

“Nat, Kasey, you guys can stand over to the left,” Marlene said.

“I’m feeling a little better now, this is good!” Grace said as she faced the others again, bouncing on her toes a bit. “Tall guy and slightly shorter guy, can you come up?”

“Since when am I ‘slightly shorter guy’?” James grumbled as he walked over with Sirius.

“Since we met! I’ve always been taller than you.”

“The banter is a good sign,” Grace mused. “Hmmm. If you’re comfortable, could you give him a kiss on the cheek?” Sirius leaned down and planted one on James, who grinned. “This is tough. You’re either dating or just, like, peak best friends.”

“You can ask them to say, ‘I love you’,” Marlene suggested out of frame.

Grace turned back to them. “Could you?”

They faced each other and James took Sirius’ hands, looking deep into his eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you, too—” Sirius caught himself at the last second and Grace sighed.

“You were going to finish that with ‘dude’ or something, weren’t you?” she asked; his poker face broke immediately. “Damn it. I thought I had that one.”

“She’s good at this,” Lily commented from the line.

“Can you come to the front for a second? Sirius, you can head back.”

Lily stuck her hands in her pockets as she stood next to James. “I get the slightly shorter guy. Nice.”

Grace paused. “At first I was almost positive you were together, but now I feel like you would step on him. Is that rude?” Everyone else started cheering and she smiled as James flushed. “Sorry, you just have a presence!”

“Thank you!”

“Alright, I can’t decide. You can both go back,” she finally said. Remus gave Lily a nudge as she returned to her place and Grace’s eyebrows rose. “Sweater guy, can you step up to the plate?” Remus obliged and she tilted her head to the side. “So, I was going to say you were Lily’s boyfriend because of the little moment back there, but there is no way you’re heterosexual.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as the rest of the group burst out laughing. “I mean, you’re right, but holy shit that was fast. Twenty-five years of pretending to be straight, wasted.”

“Hey, same!” They high-fived and she surveyed the other seven people. “Hmmm. Can the guy in the red shirt come over for a minute?” Talker walked over with a wide grin on his face. “Oh, the vibe is definitely there. I feel like he steals your sweaters.” Out of Grace’s sightline, dawning horror overtook Sirius’ face. “Can you hug?”

“Yeah, sure.” Talker held his arms out and Remus settled into them, giving him a tight squeeze around the chest.

“I can see it, I can see it,” Grace said, nodding. “Yeah, I think you two are a couple.”

“Three pairs left,” Marlene said.

“How are all of you so pretty?” Grace sighed as she turned back to the group. “Can the lady in the purple shirt and the one who looks like she could bench-press me come forward? What do you two do for a living?”

“Professional hockey,” Noelle said.

June grinned. “I’m a mechanic.”

“That’s so cool. Hmm. Could you slow dance for a second?” June wrapped her arms around Noelle’s waist, leaving a decent amount of room between them as they swayed. “You’re so cute together, oh my god.”

“Is that a yes?” June asked as they separated.

“Absolutely.” Grace blew out a long breath. Only James, Sirius, Heather, and Lily were left. “This is so difficult. How did it get harder with fewer people? Well, the lovely lady in the jacket has a rainbow pin, so I’m going to say you two are together. I am a hundred percent sure those two guys aren’t dating because of the ‘bro’ thing, but there’s nobody else left.”

“Do you want to do a rematch before your final decision?” Marlene offered.

Grace looked over at the group of already-paired couples on the left. She hesitated, then shook her head. “I know I got at least two wrong, but I don’t want to mess everything else up.”

“In that case, you’re going to face the camera and close your eyes. Everyone, get together with your real partners and put rings on if you have them.”

“Rings?” Her jaw dropped. “Some of them are married?”

“There’s one married couple and two are engaged.”

“If I accidentally ruined someone’s future, please know that I am so sorry.”

“There’s a very low chance of that,” Sirius said as he slid his ring on.

“Okay, Grace, turn around.”

Grace turned and covered her mouth with both hands. “Awww! How many did I get right?”

“One.”

“One?” Kasey and Natalie waved, and she sighed. “Please tell me you’re at least engaged.”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Shit.”

“Let’s start with this end,” Marlene laughed. “Pots, Lils, go ahead.”

“For the record, she could definitely step on me.” James grinned and kissed Lily’s temple. “We’re the married ones.”

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Grace said softly. “I totally see it.”

“So, why didn’t you pair them up?” Marlene asked.

“I don’t know! It seems so obvious now. How long have you been together?”

Lily leaned her head on James’ shoulder. “We met about eight years ago, had a baby last winter, and got married this past summer.”

“Congratulations!” June and Heather walked up next, hand-in-hand. “Well, at least I didn’t put either of you with one of the guys.”

June shrugged. “Noelle’s a cutie. If I wasn’t already engaged to the love of my life, I’d go there.”

“I put you two together because you had the jock-for-jock thing going, but this right here is couple goals.” Grace sniffled slightly. “Is it normal to get emotional about other people’s love?”

“You have three other couples to get through, you can’t cry yet!” Heather teased playfully as they moved to the end of the line.

Natalie winked. “You had us figured out right away.”

“Your boyfriend couldn’t stop laughing!”

Kasey snorted. “Sorry, it’s just that there’s a running joke among our friends that Lily and Nat are the true power couple. Even I didn’t notice the hand lotion, and we live together.”

She gasped as Talker and Noelle took their place. “Wait, what?”

“Surprise, I’m not a lesbian!” Noelle said, doing jazz hands. “Very flattered, though.”

“How do all these make so much sense?” Grace shook her head in disbelief. “At least I wasn’t wrong about the jock-for-jock vibe for one of the couples.”

Marlene stepped slightly into view. “Why didn’t you put Thomas and Noelle with each other?”

Grace shrugged. “They both had such good chemistry with the other people in the group. I’m sure I would’ve paired them up if I had seen them together, though.”

“Alright, final couple.” Talker and Noelle joined the back of the line; Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist as they stepped forward.

“You were right about the jock thing for two of the couples, actually,” Remus said with a grin. “Very impressive.”

“How did I miss this?” Grace looked at the camera crew, then back at them. “How the hell did I miss this?”

“Don’t worry, we were all oblivious for about three and a half months,” James said ruefully.

“Are you all friends?”

“All the guys play for the Lions, Gryffindor’s hockey team,” Marlene explained.

“The hockey questions make a lot more sense now. Does that mean you two play for the same team?”

“Literally or figuratively?” The corners of Sirius’ mouth twitched up as James rolled his eyes. “Yes, and yes. I’m the team captain.”

“I play wing,” Remus said.

“Did you two meet through hockey?”

Remus made a ‘so-so’ motion. “Sort of. I was the Lions’ physical therapist for two years before I was a player. We started spending more time together after Sirius broke his ankle.”

“Are you the other engaged couple?” Sirius beamed and held up his left hand. “Yeah, I thought so. Congrats, you’re both adorable!”

“Merci.”

“Do you want to sign us off, Grace?” Marlene asked as Sirius and Remus rejoined the rest of the group.

She turned to the camera and waved. “Thanks for watching, everyone!”

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aereres · 3 years

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For You, I'd Become Hercules - Auston Matthews

Summary: After many years spent apart from each other, Y/N gets back to Auston, her childhood best friend, who happens to have held back a big part of his life from her. His son Tyson.

A/N: Here it finally is! The title was inspired from Evann McIntosh’s song “Yours”, which you should totally listen to! All credits go to them!

Word Count: 9,1k (a long one, damn)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of absent mother, single parenting, lying, heartbreak, mentions of hospitals and sickness (I think that’s all lmao)

"Y/N?"

You smiled as your eyes settled on your childhood best friend after all the years you had spent apart. "Hey, Aus," you chuckled. He closed the front door of his condo behind himself, making the two of you settle into the lightly dimmed hallway of his complex.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, letting his arms open to engulf you in a long hug.

"I promised you I'd move here after college," you said, smiling at him. "I got my degree and now I have a job here in Toronto,"

"No way," he chuckled excitedly, throwing his arms around you again. "I'm so proud of you, I know-"

The loud cry that came from his door made his body stiffen as he let go of you quickly before inching back inside his condo, leaving the door open for you. "This wasn't exactly the way I wanted you to know, but here we go," Auston huffed under his breath while he walked inside the living room, you following right in tow.

A toddler sat in the middle of the room surrounded by toys, wailing his heart out until Auston lifted him up in his arms, shushing him quickly. "Daddy-" was all the little one could say, wrapping his small arms around your best friend's neck.

Saying you were shocked was an understatement. You and Auston had stopped talking to each other as much as you used to because of his career, of how busy he was. But missing out on a baby was a big thing, especially if it was your best friend's baby.

"Y/N, this is my son Tyson," Auston sighed, rubbing the little boy's back as his body shook with sobs. You let silence fill the room as you looked between Tyson and his father, rubbing your forehead as you tried to get past the initial shock.

"Hi, Tyson," you breathed out, sending him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm your daddy's best friend," you whispered sweetly, wiping away the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

Tyson hid his face away from you, tucking it in Auston's neck as he shook with another sob. "He's a little shy," Auston mumbled, biting on his lip as he made his way inside the kitchen. "Want a cup of coffee before I leave for practice?"

"Mrs. Blake, this is my best friend, Y/N," Auston introduced you quickly to his neighbor, grabbing his duffle bag from the laundry room and making his way back to the kitchen, where you and the middle-aged woman stood. "Thank you again for coming over,"

"Auston, will you just stop thanking me? We've been doing this ever since Tys was basically born," Mrs. Blake chuckled. "Do you need me to make him dinner?"

"Uh, no. Y/N is staying over, and training won't be long today," Auston said, checking inside his bag for everything. When his eyes settled back to you, he sent you a quick, cold smile before bending down to kiss Tyson's forehead. "I'll see you later, bud. Okay? Be good for Mrs. Blake and Y/N,"

The toddler nodded absentmindedly as his focus stayed on the plastic dino he was playing with. As you looked down at him, you noticed the familiar traits that Auston and he shared, from the mops of dark hair sitting at the top of their heads, to the familiar dark eyes and the nose you had found so strange when you were a kid.

You didn't hear the front door closing or Auston's last goodbyes, too busy looking at the little guy sitting in front of you.

"So, tell me, Y/N, what are you doing here in Toronto?" Mrs. Blake asked with a small smile, sitting on the couch right next to the floor-to-ceiling windows and motioning for you to join her.

"I, uh- I just graduated college and I managed to get a job here," you said, playing with your fingers in your lap as you zoned out again, silence building between the two of you.

"You didn't know about Tys, did you?" She asked gently after a few minutes.

"Not really,"

Mrs. Blake chuckled sadly, her hand opened as she grabbed the toys Tyson handed her, the boy sending you a quick smile. The two of you found yourselves observing him, silence settling between you again as the little boy talked to his toys.

"I only remember the wailing from that night," Mrs. Blake started after a while. "I opened my door to understand what was the source of all that chaos, and I was only able to catch Auston holding the carrier with Tyson,

"He looked extremely scared, so I did what my motherly instinct told me to do and helped him out. He's never told me who the mother is, or what she told him that day," Mrs. Blake ended the sentence with a sigh, shaking her head softly. "He turned out to be a good father, you know?"

"I know he did," you mumbled, a small smile on your lips as you let little Tyson play with your hair. He seemed amazed by it as he let his hand card through it. "Soft," he whispered.

"It's soft, isn't it, Tys?" Mrs. Blake agreed with him. "But don't tug on it, okay? It's gonna hurt your new friend,"

Tyson looked up at you, his curious little orbs scanning over your features as he quietly took you in. He was quick to get back to his toys, not giving you the chance to actually talk to him, or even try to form a small bond.

"He'll open up, don't worry," Mrs. Blake sent you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your hand. You looked back at the kid, a soft grin on your lips as the light feeling of warmth spread through your chest.

He was all Auston.

"What?!"

Mitch's voice reverberated around the empty rink as he and Auston shot pucks inside the net, the rest of the team already in the dressing room.

"Y/N visited us," Auston repeated, getting rid of his helmet and letting his stick touch another puck. "She lives here, now,"

Mitch was shocked at his best friend's words but kept his eyes on the ice. "Was Tys happy to see her again?" He asked quietly, watching as Auston shot another puck in the net. All Mitch got was silence, not a word coming from his friend's mouth. It took him a few seconds to actually understand why his friend wasn't talking, and when he finally realized, there was nothing holding back his curiosity.

"You didn't tell her?!" He asked in shock, his mouth hanging open as Auston sighed out.

"I was going to, at one point," he admitted, guilt overtaking him as he pushed his hair out of his face.

"Matts, Tyson has been your son for three years. Three!" Mitch started reasoning. "When did you think you were going to tell her? After his fucking graduation?!"

Auston rolled his eyes, skating towards the net to pass the pucks back to Mitch. "I swear, I was going to tell her! I was just scared she would drop me,"

Mitch shook his head, letting the sound of hockey fill the rink as the two of them stayed in silence. Auston's guilt had been eating him up ever since you had unexpectedly met Tyson: the shocked, sad look on your face at that exact moment was enough to show him you had felt betrayed. The two of you had never hold secrets away from each other, especially if it was something as important as Tyson. He needed to apologize, in some way.

"How did she react?"

Auston looked back at Mitch with a sad look, a frown forming on his features as he shook his head. "She was shocked," he sighed. "And then I fucked it up by being cold as always,"

"Where is she now?"

"My apartment,"

"Listen, you're going to go home and talk to her," Mitch said, voice firm. "Make her dinner, apologize, explain to her why you didn't tell her..."

Auston took a deep breath, nodding his head as his friend pointed a finger towards him. "And please, don't fuck it up,"

The takeout Italian food you had ordered before Auston could have come home was sitting in front of you, the pasta you had tried to eat staring back at you as your best friend talked. All you were able to do was zone out, the new discoveries of the day still shocking you.

You weren't going to lie and say it didn't hurt you, the fact that Auston had spent all those years hiding his private life from you, the fact that he didn't even consider telling you, one of his closest friends, or asking for your help. It hurt. Bad.

"God, I still remember that time back in high school," Auston chuckled under his breath as he fed Tyson some pasta. "You were so obsessed with learning how to skate, and-"

"Why didn't you tell me about Tys?" You interrupted him, voice thin and shaky as you mustered the courage to speak the words that crowded your mind the entire night.

Auston's smile quickly faded, being replaced with a look of guilt as a thick layer of silence filled the room. "I- uh, I fucked up, I know,"

"I-I even went home, I saw your sisters, your parents," you said, your eyes glossy as you sniffled. "There was no word spoken about Tyson coming from their mouths,"

"I was scared,"

"Scared of what, Auston? You know I'd be by your side even if the world was ending," you sighed, standing up from your chair to recompose yourself, giving him your back. "I wish you could have just told me,"

A tear slipped past your eye and slid down your cheek. You compressed a sob, mentally slapping yourself for being so sensitive and rude to your best friend. It felt like everyone had lied to you all that time, leaving you unaware of your closest friend's situation. It hurt you.

"I'm sorry," was everything he whispered, standing up and pulling you in a tight hug. "I started overthinking, I thought you would have left me,"

"I could have helped you, Aus," you sniffled. "Hell, I would have dropped out to come here and help you,"

"We both know I would have never let you do that," he said in a whisper, carding a hand through your hair. "I could never be that selfish,"

He cupped your face, wiping the tear that had previously run down your face with the pad of his thumb before looking back at Tyson, who was playing with his sippy cup on his own at the table. "Let's go finish dinner?"

You gave him a soft nod, maybe even feeling a little better because you had been able to talk it out with him. The warm feeling in your chest, the same one you had been feeling back in your teen years too, didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night.

You looked out the window of your apartment, biting on your nail as the phone pressed against your ear hummed. The clouds crowding the sky of Toronto blocked the moon, not letting the comforting rays of moonlight peek and illuminate the city.

"Y/N? Is there anything wrong?" your best friend Aaliyah mumbled sleepily from her side of the line. "What are you doing up this late?"

Your eyes wandered to the clock hanging against the wall of your kitchen, noticing just then that it was well past midnight. You had lost track of time back at Auston's, spending most of the night catching up as you got accustomed to Tyson's presence. "Fuck, A, I'm sorry I woke you up," you muttered. "Some shit went down, but I can just talk to you in the morning,"

"I'm awake, now, and I won't be able to fall back asleep until you tell me," she chuckled. You heard faint sounds coming from her side, it sounded like she was leaving her bed. "What's up? Spill,"

"I, uh- today I met with Auston," you explained, rubbing your forehead with a long sigh. "And I surprised him at his apartment,"

"He wasn't with some girl, was he?" Aaliyah asked, her voice harsh as she reminded you of all the times you had come to her with a broken heart because of Auston's new girl.

"No, he-" you stopped in your tracks, trying to find the right words. "He became a dad,"

"Oh my God-" Aaliyah whispered. "You gotta be kidding me,"

"Tyson is three and a little shy," you chuckled, shaking your head as you thought about the toddler that managed to win a part of your heart already.

"Three?! Holy fuck, I'm killing him-" your best friend mumbled under her breath. "Didn't you meet his family when you went back home? They left you clueless about everything that happened?"

The sigh that left your lips was enough to let her know, making her scoff. "I can't believe it,"

"A?"

She hummed, your heart was beating out of your chest as you finally figured out the way you were feeling.

"I think I still love him,"

-----

You were hurriedly walking towards Auston's apartment, a smile on your lips as you thought of the night ahead of you. You'd received a text from your best friend when you were still at work, suggesting a movie night with him and Tyson.

Things had become better after you talked things out with Auston, he didn't hesitate to send you pictures of Tyson every possible time, updating you and making your days slightly better.

You were more than tired from your workday, but you weren't going to turn down a relaxing night with the boys, especially if it was Disney movie night. You were welcomed inside the warmth of the condo complex before you knew it, slipping inside the elevator to reach Auston's floor with a content sigh.

When you knocked on the front door, you were met with Tyson's small frame smiling up at you. "Hi, little guy!" You said excitedly, smile so bright your cheeks hurt. He silently grabbed your hand, tugging you along with him towards the kitchen where Auston was preparing all the snacks.

The giggle that escaped your mouth made Auston turn around, revealing the 'Cars' matching pajamas he shared with Tyson. "Oh my God," you gasped softly, your smile even bigger as you looked at the two of them.

"Well, good evening to you too, Y/N," Auston chuckled, slightly crouching down to hand Tyson the bowl of popcorn as he sent you a quick smile. "Be careful not to drop it, okay, bud?"

The toddler nodded, slipping out of the room, the soft padding of his feet making a small smile form on Auston's lips. "Hey," you whispered, walking closer to Auston. "You should have told me about the PJs, I would have tried to match,"

He laughed, the butterflies in your stomach starting their dance all over again as he pressed a hand on your smaller back, leading you towards the couch, where the Disney logo was already staring back at you.

"C'mon daddy!" Tyson squealed excitedly. "I wanna watch the movie!"

"What are we watching tonight, Tys?" You asked, ruffling his hair as he jumped up and down on the couch.

"Hercules!"

Auston groaned loudly, making his son giggle as he pressed play on the remote and started the film. He sat next to his father, leaving Auston in the middle as you took the only spot left next to him.

You tried your best to follow the plot, even though you had seen it multiple times as a kid, without letting your eyes close. You were able to get halfway through it: the songs seemed to lull you, and even if the movie was pretty chaotic, you found yourself falling asleep on Auston's shoulder.

In your half-asleep state, you felt Auston's arm slide around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. A small hand cradled your cheek, but it got squatted away in less than a second.

"Tys, don't wake her up," you heard Auston whisper.

"Daddy, she's pretty," the toddler whispered back, his voice close to your face as he studied your features.

"She is," Auston's answers didn't go unnoticed by you, his hand smoothing the skin of your waist as he inched you even closer. "But now it's already past your bedtime for both of you, so to bed you go!"

Your body was hoisted in Auston's arms as Tyson padded right next to him towards the master bedroom. Your best friend lay you down on his bed, rolling the covers over you before helping Tyson with brushing his teeth and settling him in his bed.

Your eyes opened slightly when Auston walked back inside the room, your voice groggy as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. "Sorry, work was rough today,"

"It's fine, Tyson needed to go to bed anyway," Auston chuckled, grabbing a blanket and pillow from one of his closets. "You can sleep here, I'll take the couch,"

"No!"

Auston turned around confusedly, a small smile on his lips as you stuttered. "I-I mean, you wanna share? The couch doesn't seem too comfortable,"

He chuckled teasingly, lifting the covers on the other side of the bed. "No need to be so nervous. We're friends, we share all the time,"

You managed to push out a fake giggle as his words opened a small wound inside your heart. Friends. That was all you were.

-----

Not a month after his statement about the relationship the two of you shared, Auston was directed towards Ottawa, ready to play a really important game. You had taken the responsibility of being Tyson's babysitter for the weekend to help Auston out: he had to travel away from home, and Tyson happened to not feel too well, so you let yourself get comfortable in the Matthews' household for just a couple of days to look after the little one.

"Auston, we will be just fine," you sighed into the phone, your best friend's worried voice coming from the other line mixing with the loud noises of the Leafs changing room. "Tyson just happens to have a small cold,"

"Call me if anything happens, okay?"

"Okay," you mumbled before ending the call, your eyes immediately falling on Tyson's tired body. He lay on the couch, lazily following a Disney movie playing on TV as he cuddled what you had realized was his favorite stuffie. He had been able to eat just a small part of his dinner under your watch, and the amount of tissues that sat around the two of you was concerning.

The game was going to start in a couple of minutes, and you were hoping that seeing his daddy would make Tyson feel a little better. You let a hand card through his soft, short hair, taking note of the whine that left his lips when your hand came in contact with his head. His forehead was burning, and you were sure he had a headache, too.

You weren't going to lie and say you weren't worried, you had measured his fever already once, and it only seemed to get worse. Tyson let his head rest in your lap, shocking you a little after all the coldness he had given you since the moment you first had stepped foot into his house weeks prior. He seemed to enjoy the movements of your hands in his hair, relaxing him even more and pushing him into a light slumber.

You switched channels, turning down the volume as soon as the booming voices of the commentators filled the condo. When the cameras focused on number 34, you let a smile paint your lips. Auston skated around the rink, getting warmed up with a small smirk on his face. Seeing him on the ice reminded you of the times back in your childhood, from his first hockey games when he was a kid, to cheering for him in High School as his number one fan, wearing his personal jersey.

Auston had been a constant part of your life ever since birth, you didn't even know how you could have gone a couple of years without him.

You were pushed out of your thoughts when Tyson stirred, a whine leaving his lips as he tightened his grasp on his stuffie. He let a cough out, and that's when you finally heard his labored breathing. As you let your hand graze his forehead, you also realized that he had heated up even more in the time being.

Your heart started beating out of your chest as the situation dawned on you: Tyson needed medical attention as soon as possible. Auston hadn't left Tyson's doctor's number, and you were sure that their clinic must have been closed for the night, anyway. The only option left was the ER.

You threw on your coat and helped a sleepy Tyson into his, slipped quickly your pairs of shoes before making your way to Auston's car, the only one that had a baby seat settled in the back. You were sure you had never driven that fast in your entire life, with a hand tightly holding Tyson's as you sprinted past cars in the busy streets of Toronto.

You made it to the emergency room in just a small amount of minutes, where you were escorted by a kind nurse to the pediatric ward. You were last in a small line of kids and parents, Tyson looking the youngest of them all.

You sat in a small chair waiting for your turn, the little boy cuddling in your arms as he struggled to breathe, your heart clenching every time he shook in his fever-induced dream.

With a panicked sigh, you grabbed your phone, pressing on Auston's contact and hoping he'd pick up. You were quickly sent to his voicemail, your eyes tearing up as you tried to muster up the words you were going to say to your best friend.

"Uh- hey, Aus," you sniffled, taking a deep breath before you kept going. "Tys and I are at the hospital right now: his fever got worse and he's wheezing. Call me back as soon as you can,"

You shakily put your phone back in your pocket, carding a hand through Tyson's hair as you looked at his sleepy form in your arms. A mother sitting in front of you sent you a reassuring smile, her kid sleeping against her side as they waited. Her smile had a calming effect on you, making you take a deep breath and close your eyes as you let the time pass.

You woke up to the sound of your ringtone a few hours later, your eyes quickly falling to Tyson to check on him before pressing the device to your ear. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" Auston quickly mumbled. "Excuse me- I just landed in Toronto,"

"Oh- we're still at the hospital, Toronto General," you mumbled, finally noticing you were the only ones left in line. "I think we're about to go in,"

"Fuck-" Auston muttered under his breath. "I'm in a taxi right now, I'll be there in a couple of minutes,"

He ended the call right after that, leaving you in the empty hallway. Tyson stirred, yawning quickly before whining out. "My head hurts,"

"I know, buddy. I'm so sorry," you whispered, kissing his forehead tenderly as your leg bounced anxiously.

"I want daddy," he sobbed, hiding his face in your chest and staining your shirt with his tears.

"He's on his way, Tys,"

The kid sobbed, wrapping his arms around you as he closed his eyes again, making you tear up. The entire night had taken a huge mental toll on you, and the fact that you thought everything you had done was wrong made things even worse. As if blaming yourself for not noticing Tyson's state as quickly as you should have wasn't enough, you felt extremely bad for making Auston think that everything was going to be okay when he had called before the game.

"And you must be Tyson Matthews!" The voice of an older man snapped you out of your thoughts. He stood by his office door, a kind smile on his face as his eyes scanned the still sleepy boy in your arms behind his thick pair of glasses.

"Yes," Tyson's small voice said shakily. He gripped onto you as you stood up to shake hands with the doctor. "Let’s go inside? Mommy will be with you all along, don’t worry,"

"I- uh, I'm not-"

"I'm here!" You heard Auston say from beside you, his breathing uneven after running around the entire hospital to find the two of you. "I'm here, Tys,"

"Daddy!"

"Let's see what's wrong with you, little guy. Shall we?"

You wrapped your coat tightly around yourself as you walked beside Auston, Tyson sleeping in his arms. The cold air of Toronto was hitting your face harshly, large puffs of warmth leaving your mouth as you watched your best friend put Tyson in the backseat of his car.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, shaking your head as you tried to hold the tears in.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," you repeated. "Tyson hadn't been feeling well the entire night and I still told you he was going to be okay, and-"

"Y/N, it's fine. Having the flu happens sometimes," he interrupted you, wrapping his arms around your frame tightly. "Thank you for taking care of him,"

He held you for a little while, relaxing against your body to let the stress of the night leave the both of you before dragging you towards the car. The streets were still crowded by just a few cars, even if it was well after 1 a.m., and you used the silence inside the car to wipe the stress away from your body.

When the car stopped inside Auston's garage, you quickly went to unbuckle Tyson, lifting him up in your arms so Auston could take care of his luggage. He was quick to follow you inside his condo, right behind you as you lay Tyson in his toddler bed. The kid seemed to let out a content sigh, turning on his side and giving you his back.

"I think I'll go home, now," you whispered awkwardly, biting on your lip as you looked at Auston. "You need to rest,"

"And you do, too," he mumbled, his hand slipping into yours as he pulled you inside his bedroom. "I don't want you driving this late. Just stay the night?"

"Auston-"

"Just for tonight,"

You chuckled as you looked at him, the glimmer in his eyes the same as when he was a kid. You let out a small 'fine', his smile so bright you were sure it could light up the whole room. He let you take the bathroom first, and you changed as quickly as you could into a pair of comfortable clothes of his.

You missed the soft glance he sent your way, too busy putting your phone in charge and avoiding his eyes before taking place under the sheets. Having sleepovers in the same bed had never been a problem for both of you, but you couldn't deny the tension that had built when you had first inserted yourself back into his life.

You were confused, to say the least, but not shocked. Your feelings for Auston would have come back at one point, you thought. You had seen him fall in love so many times, living his life without even thinking you might have felt a certain type of way about him. He had been so oblivious for all those years, it had pissed you off.

When you two had parted, you had rid yourself of your childhood crush. You had joined college, became busy with classes, and found yourself in different relationships before graduating. You didn't think your crush could have come back that easily, this time, your feelings were even stronger.

"Still not tired?" He asked, his side of the bed dipping as he lay down next to you.

"Tonight took a toll on me," you admitted, playing with the strings of the hoodie you were wearing. "Stress is still pumping, I guess,"

"C'mere," Auston whispered, lifting an arm up so you could rest your head on his chest. Your heart thumped against your ribcage, making you smile.

"Tell me something good, to make this night better," you whispered.

"We won," he chuckled. "I scored twice,"

You giggled, shaking your head as you closed your eyes. "Tys is gonna be so proud of you," you said mid-yawn, sleep taking over you. "Just like I am,"

He kissed the top of your head, taking one last look at you before closing his own eyes, wishing to dream about you on that night.

-----

Auston Matthews was going on a date.

He wasn't happy or thrilled about it, he couldn't stand those shallow dates at expensive restaurants anymore, especially if they were set by Mitch and Freddie.

His character had changed after Tyson became part of his life, he thought that he had changed for the better, thanks to his son. Dating, or having sex, wasn't as important as it used to be. His main focus was on giving Tyson the happy life he deserved.

His friends almost forced him into 'just one date' with a beautiful girl named Meghan, and he had been regretting the 'yes' he had given them ever since he’d seen the sad look on Tyson's face when he was told his daddy was going to be busy again. Auston wasn't ready to get back into the dating life, at least, he thought he wasn't.

When you had gotten the news, though, you had tried to conceal the pain with everything you had inside of you. Your feelings for Auston weren't mutual, the date made it clear. You had smiled and offered to take care of Tyson for the night, just so he wouldn't have to be worried.

When the night arrived, he dropped the toddler off with a thankful hug and headed quickly towards the destination, where the pretty brunette was already waiting for him. The entire conversation that night was about his fame and hockey, something that he had never liked to discuss during dates.

When dessert was brought over - right when Meghan started discussing her follower count on Instagram - realization hit him. He had compared his date to you the entire evening, noting how she wasn't as selfless as you, or how he didn't feel the warmth in his chest with her.

"Are you even listening to me, Auston?" Meghan said, her annoyed tone snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I-"

"You definitely aren't," she snapped. "You haven't been listening to me all night, I'm surprised you even showed up,"

Meghan lifted herself up from her chair, catching the attention of the few people around them as she grabbed her purse, ready to walk out of the restaurant. "Good night, Auston,"

His eyes snapped shut with a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He asked for the check with a quick hand gesture, trying to get out of the place as soon as possible, he couldn't bear the apologetic looks coming from the people around him.

He was sure he had never paid for dinner that quickly, and he breathed out in relief as soon as the cold air hit his face. He slid inside his car and drove towards your apartment to pick Tyson up, his thoughts racing as the streetlights illuminated his features.

Your building stared back at him as the butterflies inside his stomach intensified at the thought of you. Everything about the date left his mind as he stepped inside the complex, the flight of stairs seeming longer than it actually was as his heart thumped against his ribcage. What was happening to him?

You opened the door after a quick knock, Tyson in your arms as he slept softly. "Hey, how did it go?"

"She left because I wasn't paying attention to her," Auston chuckled. "Mitch should just stop setting me out on dates,"

Your heart fluttered selfishly as you realized he hadn't been interested in the girl as you handed Tyson to him. "How was he?"

"He was good," you mumbled, looking at the toddler with a small smile. "Ate all the food and watched some TV with me,"

"That's good," he whispered, cradling his son's head to his chest as an idea popped in his mind. "Y/N?"

The hum he got from you was enough to send him into a spiral, his palms getting sweaty as nerves got the best of him. "The team is hosting a gala in two weeks,”

"That's cool," you smiled. "Want me to babysit Tys again?"

He chuckled, shaking his head as you sent him a confused glare. "I'm asking you to be my date, dummy,"

Your eyes widened in shock, but you nodded your head in less than a second.

"Is that a yes?"

"What do you think it is, dummy?"

-----

"Wow-"

Auston's impressed words whispered under his breath were enough to make your heart flutter. He stood in front of you with one of his suits, the ones that were so unique you never saw anyone wearing them too. To your surprise, Tyson was clasping his hand, a bouquet of flowers covering his face.

"Well, good evening, boys," you giggled, kneeling down to gently take the flowers from Tyson's hands. The little guy smiled when he saw your face, giggling when you kissed his cheek. "Thank you, mister,"

Auston helped you stand back up, his hand in yours as you finally let your eyes find his. He had the softest smile adorning his lips as he let his thumb brush against the back of your hand. "You look beautiful,"

You bit your lip to hide the lovesick smile that formed on your features. "You don't look too bad yourself," you teased, walking back inside your house to put the flowers inside a vase, before grabbing your purse and locking the front door behind yourself.

Auston let his palm find your smaller back, his other hand holding Tyson's as the three of you left the apartment complex and settled inside the backseat of a dark car.

"Private driver, wow," you teased him as he helped Tyson in his car seat, a chuckle leaving his lips as he gave directions to the driver. He settled down next to you, his hand slipping in yours as he made small talk regarding the night, telling you who was going to be there and what the event was going to be about.

The car came to a halt quicker than you had expected, nerves making your hands shake as you saw a few photographers standing near the entrance of the venue. "They'll just snap a few pictures, we'll be by your side for the entire time," Auston whispered, making it seem like he had almost sensed your stress.

His hand stayed in yours as he opened the door, helping you and Tyson out as the photographers greeted him. They snapped a few quick pictures, and you were sent inside the venue soon after.

The place was large, beautifully decorated with chandeliers and large tables already set for the dinner that would have soon started. Teammates were introduced to you, same went with girlfriends and coaches. Tyson had quickly run away with other kids, and you and Auston found yourselves at the bar with Mitch and Steph.

"Y/N, I've heard so much about you!" Mitch said, making you giggle, especially when Auston elbowed him in the ribs. "Matts can't seem to shut up about you, sometimes,"

Auston flushed a deep shade of red, running a hand through his hair nervously as he pulled you closer to his body. "Mitch is just overdramatic,"

"Am not,"

Steph laughed from beside you, her manicured fingers touching the velvety material of your gown, starting a conversation with you about your dresses. Tyson's little squeals were enough to interrupt you, and when he ran all the way to hug your legs, a small smile painted on your lips.

"Daddy, dinner!"

His statement made everyone turn around. Waiters and waitresses were starting to carefully move around the tables with food, and the team's coach was making his way towards the improvised altar, ready to give his speech.

"You hungry, Tys?" You asked.

"I'm starving!"

You were sure you had ever eaten food as good as the one you had eaten that night, your tummy feeling full as they brought dessert around the tables. Tyson hadn't made it through the entire dinner, he was already sleeping in your lap, holding one of his toys close to him.

You had felt someone's eyes on you for the entire night, but had shrugged it off, focusing on the amazing evening you had been able to spend with Auston, Tyson, and the people close to them. You enjoyed your night, forgot about the unsettling feeling, and let yourself have fun with everyone. When your date left to sort something out with his coach and the team, though, the feeling returned.

You wrapped an arm around Tyson, holding him close to you as you checked the few people still surrounding you, seeing if they were paying any attention to you. When you gave the tables behind yours a quick look, you noticed a pair of eyes staring back at you.

They belonged to a redheaded man, his glare cold as he quickly stepped towards your table. You didn't know whether you should have left to search for Auston or just act as if you hadn't seen him, but you chose the latter.

Your hands were shaky as you let them run through Tyson's hair, trying to recompose yourself, but everything seemed to change when the chair in front of you moved, the man sitting just a few feet away from you.

"Hi," you shakily said.

"Hi," was all he said, his eyes scanning your face before dropping down to Tyson. "You're Y/N, right?"

You nodded quickly, tightening your grip on the kid in your lap as he kept looking at you. "I'm Freddie, I play with Auston,"

You seemed to calm down after his statement, starting to breathe again after what felt like years. You smiled at him, letting a thick layer of silence fill the air around you. He was the first one to speak.

"He talks a lot about you, you know," Freddie said, his voice deep as his eyes met with Tyson's sleeping form. "But, as much as he likes to hide his feelings, he's been hurt before,"

"I can imagine," you whispered, recalling the conversation you had had with Mrs. Blake.

"I just- kind of took it upon myself to make sure he's not gonna go through all of that again, as his best friend,"

You smiled at him, realizing all he was doing was making sure you weren't going to hurt his best friend, and Tyson, of course. You felt the little one stir in your arms, his arms looping around your neck and letting his face hide in your chest.

"Mommy, the lights are too bright,"

Your world stopped at his words, at the name he used to call you. The shock was evident on your face as your eyes fell on Freddie, who just calmly smiled.

"I'm sorry, Tys. I promise you we will go home soon," you whispered as you looked down at him, using the palm of your hand to soothingly caress his back. When you looked back up to meet Freddie's eyes again, he was gone, no sign of him inside the venue.

A warm hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your trance, and when you turned around, you were met with Auston's smile.

"Tys is pretty tired," you whispered to him, seeing that the room was starting to become packed again.

"We probably should start heading home," Auston nodded his head, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You stopped him before he could leave to grab your coats, letting your hand find his as his eyes met yours.

"Thank you for tonight,"

The smile on his face made your heart flutter, and his hand squeezed yours for a quick moment. "You're the one I should thank, I don't know where I'd be without you,"

When you left, that night, you caught Freddie's gaze again. He smiled your way, saying goodbye to you with a quick movement of his head. He was sure, nothing or nobody was going to make him change his mind on that.

You were the right one.

-----

“God, I also need to start looking at kindergartens,” Auston sighed as he rubbed his forehead, leaning against the washing machine. “I’ll have to do that in the next couple of days,”

You let a thick layer of silence build between the two of you, wondering whether you should have told him about what Tyson had called you at the gala the previous week. “I’ll help you with it, don’t worry,”

He gave you a look of pure appreciation, his arms engulfing you in a hug. He let the comfortable silence be his way of saying ‘thank you’, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head before dragging you towards the living room.

His hand never left yours as he fell on the couch, tugging you along. You slipped in his arms with a giggle, his body welcoming yours in a warm embrace. His fingers drew small shapes on your arms, the feeling of his strong chest against your back making you relax into him.

“Do you think I’m a good parent?”

His words made your heart stop for a quick second, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Of course you are,” you whispered, turning around in his grasp to face him. “Tyson loves you, what makes you even think that?”

“Hockey makes me absent all the time, I feel like I always miss the most important parts of his life,” Auston admitted, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Tys is so lucky to have you as a dad, Auston,” you whispered, letting your hand cup your cheek. “You might be busy sometimes, but you always put your kid first, no matter what,”

Your best friend’s eyes settled on something behind you, silence filling the room again. The hurt that had painted his voice when he first asked you the question had you heartbroken, and it made you wonder how long he had been asking himself the same question.

“It was really hard,” he mumbled, playing with your fingers as he started talking. “I didn’t know I had a kid until his mother left him on my doormat, it truly left everyone shocked,”

You squeezed his hand gently, looking up at him with a reassuring smile as he found the courage to talk about Tyson’s story, about what happened.

“I was having a hard time with the team, I wasn’t scoring anymore, I felt awful,” he explained. “The only thing that seemed to make me feel relaxed was fucking around. I met Jessica at a bar, after a game we lost. We had sex, I left as soon as we were done and went on with my life,

“Months passed, everything had gone back to okay, and I saw her at my door. She left Tyson to me, explaining to me that he was my child and that she wanted nothing to do with him,” at that point, your eyes were glossy. You could have felt the pain in his words, it had become so evident at that point.

“We took DNA tests, everything, and Tyson was really my son, there was nothing denying that,”

“Where did Jessica go?”

“I don’t know. It’s almost as if she deleted herself from the world. She doesn’t live here anymore, she’s not on any social media and has deleted my number,”

You let your head rest against his chest, your hand playing with the material of his shirt as you took in the truth. You really wished you had known about Tyson from the start, to give a little help, to be there for Auston during the hard times.

“You’re strong. You know that, right?” You whispered, letting your eyes find his.

“I’m not,” the sigh that left his lips made your heart clench. “I’m barely holding on. I’m broken,”

“For you, I’d become Hercules and hold your broken pieces together,” you whispered, letting your hand cup his cheek. “No matter how hard it gets,”

He leaned into your touch briefly, before letting his eyes meet yours again. You hadn’t truly realized how close the two of you were, your faces just mere inches away from each other as your breathing became uneven.

He was the first one to inch closer, letting your lips meet for the first time. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, and the feeling of his hands gently cupping your cheeks was enough to send you into a frenzy.

He let his forehead rest against yours, when the two of you pulled apart, your breaths ragged. He smiled, lightly, but he still smiled.

And it made your heart soar.

-----

There was nothing as important as Tyson’s birthday, to Auston. It was December fourth, his little boy was turning four and sitting right between you and him as all of you were squeezed in the back of a taxi directed to Scottsdale to celebrate the little guy’s special day.

It had become a tradition for the Matthews to meet up on Tyson’s birthday, celebrate it together before parting ways again, it was something they just couldn’t miss. You had been invited, something you truly weren’t expecting.

“Nana!” Tyson yelled, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. His tiny hand was pointing out of the car window, where Ema was standing. She was waiting for you by the driveway, Nala and Felix patiently looking up at her as the car pulled up near the house.

You helped Tyson out of the car since he was excitedly kicking around, wanting nothing more than to go hug his grandma. “Mijo!”

Tyson ran in Ema’s arms, giggling as she pecked his face with kisses. “I missed you so much!” She squealed, letting him onto the ground to greet the dogs when her eyes met yours.

She was smiling, so brightly you were sure her cheeks hurt. You hadn’t seen her in months, and she seemed to be so happy to have you there with her family. “Oh, Y/N,” was all she could whisper as she pulled you in a tight hug. “I’m so happy you could join us,”

You almost teared up at her sweet words, just as happy as she was to finally see her after all the time spent apart. Ema pulled away to greet Auston, who was standing next to you. Your eyes dropped to Tyson who was excitedly playing with the dogs as a smile painted on your face. Maybe that was where you belonged, you thought.

“Everyone is inside,” Ema explained, a faint smile forming on her lips when she noticed Auston’s hand mindlessly rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Wanna head inside, mijo? Your aunties are waiting for you!”

Tyson nodded his head, gripping his grandma’s hand as the two of them headed inside. You didn’t realize you had been nervously zoning out as you watched them walk away, at least, not until Auston squeezed your hip to catch your attention.

“Don’t be so nervous,” he whispered. “I know this is their first time seeing us together like this, but they won’t change your opinion on you,”

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his hands running through your hair, knowing it would calm you, before Breyana’s voice snapped the two of you out of your trance.

“Enough of that, lovebirds! There’s a birthday we need to celebrate!”

Tyson had opened his presents, including the remote control car you had gifted him. The glimmer in his eyes when he first saw your present was enough to make you smile excitedly, kissing the top of his head when he rushed towards you to thank you.

By the end of the day, he was still out with his aunties and the dogs, his squeals and giggles being loud enough to be heard inside the house where you, Auston, and his parents were conversating.

“Alex already started to plan the trip to Cabo,” Ema said, drying her wet hands on the closest towel before joining you at the kitchen island. “Are you coming this year?”

“We’ll have to see,” Auston mumbled, his eyes looking out the window to keep an eye on Tyson.

“We?” You asked, smiling when his cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

“I mean, just if you want to,” he mumbled, his hand resting on your thigh.

“Daddy!” Tyson barged in, Alexandria running after him with a smile. “Can I sleep here? With Nana and Papa?”

Auston looked at his mother for her consent, being greeted only with a smile and a nod of her head. “He can stay in your room,” she reassured him. “Wanna stay in daddy’s room, mijo?”

“Yes!”

“You have to be good, though,” Auston kneeled down to his son’s height, ruffling his hair with a chuckle. “We’re only a call away, mom,”

“I know, Aus,” she giggled. “You two go get some rest, alright? We’ll take good care of him,”

“Alright,” Auston sighed. “Good night, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

The toddler pressed a kiss to his father’s cheek, before running towards you to hug your legs. “Good night, mommy!”

“Sweet dreams, Tys,” you shakily said, finally accepting the fact that Tyson wasn’t seeing you as daddy’s friend anymore. As you looked around, you were met with Auston’s shocked expression. He took a deep breath before saying his last goodbyes to the family, leaving the house with you by his side.

The car ride was silent. Auston seemed to be in his thoughts, his eyes focused on the road as he gripped the steering wheel lightly. You felt like things were going too quickly for him, that being called mommy from Tyson was just too many steps ahead. Your friendship had just taken its sharp turn, the kiss you had shared just a few weeks prior was still playing in your head. You just hoped it wasn’t going to end as quickly as it started.

“I’m sorry about Tyson,” was all he whispered, slightly shocking you. “He’s called you that many times when we were alone. I told him to drop the name, but I guess he just couldn’t let it go,”

His confession made your heartbeat quicken, a smile forming on your lips. “He’s- he’s called me that before, it’s not a big deal,”

“He has?”

You nodded. “At the gala,”

Auston chuckled, shaking his head as he parked the car in the driveway of a rather big house. “I was worried he’d overstep,”

“I was worried I was the one overstepping,” you admitted, chuckling when he frowned your way.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you giggled, the mood inside the car changing. He laughed, letting his head rest against the car seat. You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, your fingers intertwining.

“I appreciate you,” he whispered, turning his head so his lips could ghost yours. “So much,”

You kissed him gently, letting out a little squeal when he pulled you onto his lap. “Auston!” You giggled loudly, palms flat on his chest as you looked at him.

“What? Can’t appreciate my girl?”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you felt like a teenager again, straddling his lap inside the walls of his car, sharing sweet kisses. “You should really consider coming to Los Cabos with us,” he mumbled after he suddenly pulled away. “Work has been stressing you out, and I can tell. You deserve a trip,”

The tip of his thumb brushed against your swollen lips as you gave his statement a thought. You did need a vacation, you weren’t going to lie: work had been busy, filled with meetings and important deadlines. It truly had been stressing you out.

“It would be in a couple of months, baby,” Auston whispered. “Just give it a thought and let me know,”

You nodded your head, pressing one last peck to his lips before opening the car door and sliding out, Auston following your tracks.

You were still uncertain, but maybe the universe wanted you to be there. Next to Tyson and Auston, being part of their lives, part of their routine.

Maybe that was where you belonged.

-----

3 months later...

“You little troll!” You squealed jokingly, running after Tyson as he splashed water your way. His giggles were loud when you wrapped your arms around him, spreading kisses all over his face as the warm Mexican sun shone on your faces.

“Daddy! Come play with mommy and me!” Tyson yelled to Auston, who was sitting by the shore, looking at his two favorite people playing together. He chuckled, stepping towards the two of you with a smile.

“Show daddy what I’ve taught you, baby,” you suggested, pushing the few strands of wet, dark hair away from Tyson’s forehead.

The toddler looked at his father with a smile before lying flat on the water, floating ‘just like the big kids’, as he had said just prior. Auston’s reaction was priceless, his lips pulling in a wide smile as he gave you a quick look.

His fingers were quick to tickle Tyson’s stomach before pulling him in his arms, excitedly laughing with his son. “Look at you!”

“Was I good, daddy?” Tyson asked with a giggle.

“You were spectacular!”

Tyson laughed, pointing your way as he talked to his father. “Mommy helped me,”

“Do you think she should teach me, too?” Auston asked, smirking your way when Tyson nodded.

“Such a way to ask for alone time, Mattews,” you rolled your eyes, biting your lip before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Tyson’s tiny hands smacked the cheeks of you and your lover, pushing the two of you away in a fit of laughter.

“No kissies!”

You shook your head, pressing a quick peck to Tyson’s cheek before letting your lips find Auston’s one last time. “I’ll go get some sunscreen on, my shoulders are burning,” you muttered quickly, pointing a finger towards Tyson teasingly. “And you, mister, you better come get your sunscreen refill in ten,”

“Mommy!” He pouted, giving you his puppy eyes you couldn’t resist.

“It’s gonna be quick, then you’ll be able to play with daddy and Papa as much as you want,”

You left only after you had gotten a small, resentful ‘okay’, walking towards the beach to reach for your beach bag. You looked from the distance at the boys, your boys, with a loving smile. You had never felt love for someone the same way you felt love for Auston and Tyson, never. Your heart belonged to them, in any possible way.

You wondered where you would have been at that point, if you hadn’t gone back to Auston. Maybe you would have been back home, still heartbroken over the things he had made you go through as a teenager. Maybe you would have been in Toronto, too scared to let him know you had kept your promise. Maybe you would have been somewhere else, far away from his life, living different experiences without him and the kid you had started to call your own.

You were there, though, living the life you had been wishing for ever since you were a little girl. A love story, a kid you loved so much, moments you would never be able to forget.

Your life was complete, everything you had asked for.

You weren’t uncertain anymore, there were no ‘maybes’, no ‘perhaps’.

That was where you belonged.

Taglist: @thirsthy-bitch @bellaguarneri @jakevirtanenn @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows

#auston matthews #auston matthews x reader #nhl #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs #hockey imagine #auston matthews imagine #for you i'd become hercules

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sunnypogue · 4 years

Text

hockey rafe gets jealous & fights (blurb)

alright babes - there were quite a few requests for coho!rafe to get into a fight during a game.

fyi, it is v not allowed in college hockey, and results in a suspension. obviously rafe has already been in a couple fights this season, so getting in another one would be #bad.

also, pls disregard the rude things asshole mark says about the south - we do not like him.

(warnings: cursing, fighting, etc.)

you were the nicest girlfriend in the world. ever. in history.

you were sitting in a booth at your favorite mexican place, head resting in your palm as you sucked down your third margarita, straw never leaving your mouth.

meanwhile, your boyfriend, rafe was chatting away, oblivious to your boredom.

across from y’all were two visiting hockey players from ferris state - one was rafe’s good friend from bantam named wyatt, the other was wyatt’s teammate, mark.

it was a tradition for rafe & wyatt to grab dinner the night before their teams played, the hosting friend taking them to their favorite local hang. typically, this wasn’t a night you’d join in on, but rafe had been excited to introduce you to his childhood friend - you couldn’t say no.

you imagine it would have been fine if mark hadn’t tagged along.

mark was a lot from the jump. he was a transfer from a small minnesota college, and had never been south of the mason-dixon line. he had a loud personality and an even louder mouth, making small digs at anything related to the south - huntsville, the weather, the outfits, the men - you, being from the south, were over it. shockingly, your (normally) combative boyfriend hadn’t said anything about it, apparently too engrossed in his reunion with wyatt.

“hey babe,” you were jolted from your thoughts, as rafe nudged you with his shoulder. “wyatt and I are grabbing another drink - you want one?”

you looked down at your empty margarita glass, before looking back up towards him, nodding. “no salt this time, please.”

he smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, quick and chaste, before turning towards the crowded bar.

“what is that, your fourth one?” you heard mark scoff as soon as rafe was out of earshot.

you turned, crossing your arms as you faced the older boy. “is that a problem?”

he shrugged, sipping his beer. “just an observation.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back into the booth. “you know, you don’t have to be here. you could go back to the hotel or wherever the hell you’re staying.”

he laughed, short and sharp. “and miss out on all this culture? I would hate to not get the full huntsville experience.”

you turned your head towards the bar, not wanting to engage with him. out of your peripherals, you watched him knock back the remainder of his beer (his fifth one, you bitterly noted) before he spoke,

“you know, I don’t think I’ve actually gotten the full huntsville experience.”

you angled your body towards him slightly, not responding, but intrigued in what he had to say next.

he leaned in, a smirk on his face, “I figure I might as well fuck a southern belle while I’m down here. seems like it’s all you people have to offer.”

you stared at him, mouth agape. “you’re a fucking pig, you know that?”

he laughed, sliding over to sit right across from you. “you’re a fuckin’ pig,” he repeated, mocking your drawl. “shit, honey, maybe you’ll do. you’ve kinda got that sloppy drunk southern thing going on - I can work with that.”

you were on your feet in a second, head reeling. “what the FUCK did you just say?”

he smirked, shrugging his shoulders, before you barreled on, yelling, “I can’t believe you’d fucking say that to a stranger, you little bastard! what the fuck do you think you’re doing, fucking hitting on me with my boyfriend literally 30 feet away,” your face was bright red, part embarrassed, part pissed, hands clutching your purse. “you’re a fucking pervert, fetishizing women like that!”

“what the hell is going on?”

you turned to see rafe and wyatt, both holding drinks, taking in the scene. mark was unfazed in his chair, an amused smile on his face. you were breathless, cheeks red, knuckles white.

“nothin’ man, thanks for the drink.” mark leaned forward to grab his beer from wyatt.

rafe moved towards you. “it doesn’t really look like nothing. my girlfriend usually doesn’t call strangers fucking perverts unless they deserve it.”

mark shrugged, “I don’t know man, she’s a little drunk - just started yelling. can’t understand much though, with that accent.”

you scoffed, anger flaring up again, “yeah right, you fucking insulted me and hit on me all the same breath. don’t turn this shit around on me.”

“whatever bitch, you’re drunk.” mark rolled his eyes, sipping on his beer.

rafe snapped, lunging forward -you and wyatt moved simultaneously, you grabbing at rafe’s arm, wyatt blocking him from getting any closer to mark.

“shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” rafe seethed, pointing his finger down at a smirking mark. “I’ll wipe that fucking smirk off your face - don’t fucking talk to her like that.”

you tugged on his arm, hard - he was trying to pry it free to swing over wyatt at mark. “babe, just forget it. let’s go.”

“no! this little fucking bitch thinks he can say shit like that, and then has the fucking balls to sit there and lie about it to my face? I’ll kill him!” rafe was still pushing against wyatt, who was fruitlessly trying to talk him down, while a small crowd started to form.

“rafe!” you snapped, leaning forward to grab his shoulder. “look at me!”

he glanced back, eyes wild. “let me go.”

“no. you can’t do this, not right now. you won’t be able to play tomorrow night - let’s just go.” you spoke, firm and even, feet planted as you tugged on his arm again.

rafe huffed, stepping back from wyatt with his hands up. “fuck you. I’ll see you on the ice, you fucking pussy.”

mark grinned, all teeth, as he stood up noisily from his chair. “bye y’all!” he hollered in a put-on accent, wiggling his fingers in a taunt.

you practically had to drag rafe out of there, lugging him to car.

“I’ll fucking go in there and kill him. I’ll do it.” rafe was seething, looking back towards the restaurant.

you grabbed his face, palms on both cheeks, forcing him to look you in the eye. “baby, you gotta breathe. he’s not fucking worth shit - not worth fighting, not worth being mad about, and certainly not worth getting scratched.”

rafe took a few ragged breaths, his hand clutching your wrist as he tried to calm down. you murmured words of encouragement, as he slowly started to relax.

when his breathing was even, you handed him his keys from your purse, squeezing his hand twice, before watching him slide into the drivers seat.

he was silent most of the ride home, hand tense on your upper thigh. you moved your hand to rest behind his neck, softly playing with the hair at his nape.

he broke the silence at a stop light, turning to look towards you as he mumbled, “you okay?”

you nodded. “yeah, he’s a grade-a prick, but nothing to write home about. just caught me off guard.”

rafe grunted, looking back at the road as the light turned green. “I could kill him for talking to you like that. who the fuck does that shit?”

you shrugged, fingers interlaced with his hair, grown out for the season. “he’s just trying to get in your head - classic instigator.”

“I’ll fucking kill him tomorrow. I will.” rafe growled under his breath, turning into his driveway.

“rafe,” you started, giving him a look as he parked the car. “you can NOT fight him - you’ll get ejected and be out for the next three games - coach is already mad about the last two fights.”

rafe rolled his eyes, tugging his hat down. “I don’t fucking care.”

you scrambled out of the car, chasing him to the door, grabbing the house key out of his hand before pushing him against the wall, your forearm solid against his chest. “look at me - you are NOT fighting some prick tomorrow because he drunkenly said some stupid shit. you’re not going to ruin your season and your relationship with your coach because of me. you got it?”

rafe’s look of shock quickly morphed into a grin, as he registered the fact that you had pinned him to the wall, growling like a feral kitten. “shit, baby, maybe I should have just let you fight him.”

you leaned off of him, preening a bit at the compliment as you unlocked the door with the key you jacked from him, “damn straight baby, I can handle myself.”

you yelped as he spanked you, hard.

the next day, you were perched in the stands with your friends, entire body tense as you watched the puck drop. rafe had promised he wouldn’t fight, but you had a feeling that promise wouldn’t keep if mark decided to mouth off about last night.

thankfully, they weren’t on the ice together, as rafe’s d-pair was rolled out against the top line (you couldn’t help but giggle at mark grinding it out on the fourth line). after two periods, you allowed yourself to relax a bit, sipping the lukewarm beer you had been clutching since the first intermission.

of course, that’s when rafe got stuck on a long shift, not able to change before his d-partner iced the puck, allowing the other team to change lines.

you audibly groaned as mark’s line hopped onto the ice, putting your beer down so you could cover your face.

through your fingers, you watched as mark barked something in rafe’s direction from outside of the face-off circle.

“oh fuck me.” you whispered, biting your lip.

“what’s up?” your friend asked, leaning down to check on you.

you couldn’t even respond, because as soon as the puck dropped, rafe was skating up the ice as if he was shot out of a cannon, boarding the ever living fuck out of mark.

“oh.” your friend mumbled, leaning back as y’all took in the chaos on the ice, watching as it devolved into an entire line brawl, refs getting knocked around in the action.

you waited for rafe after the game in your normal spot, down the hall from the dressing room, looking unimpressed as he emerged with wet hair and a shiner.

“you promised me you weren’t going to fight.” you pouted, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck.

he shrugged, pushing his hair back, “I promised you I wasn’t going to ruin my season - and I didn’t. refs called me for 2 minute interference, that’s it.” he grinned.

you frowned, “yeah, well don’t get any ideas. you got lucky - you would have been out for the next month otherwise.”

rafe rolled his eyes, kissing you quick, before wrapping his arm around your shoulder as y’all headed out, “yeah, well, even so, it would have been worth it. little prick deserved it.”

you laughed, bumping your hip into rafe’s as y’all exited the arena, “my hero.”

#hockey rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx #obx fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #she writes

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whoacanada · 4 years

Text

Radio Free Samwell

@exhibit-no-restraint sent along an awesome prompt requesting Jack falling for the school radio station DJ, and this is what popped out! Thank you for donating and I hope you like it!

Jack Zimmermann considers himself a creature of habit. As a collegiate level athlete with designs on going pro, Jack has to be diligent; routine isn’t just a necessity, it’s a mandate.

This is the reason Jack’s so surly when his 4:30 alarm starts blaring Single Ladies instead of the expected classic rock. At first, he thinks it must be a mistake, so Jack checks the station: 96.9 ‘Radio Free Samwell’.

Sitting in his twin bed, sheets rucked around his waist, Jack presses the heel of his palm against his eye and resigns himself to a new year and a new morning DJ.

Goodbye Journey, hello Beyoncé.

_________

“You’re looking particularly surly this morning,” Shitty greets from the landing when Jack manages to stumble downstairs, half focused on tying his shoes. “You’re usually so chipper before you terrorize the incoming class.”

“Woke up to the wrong song,” Jack yawns, rolling onto his toes to pop his spine. “Trying not to take it as a sign of how the season’s gonna go.”

“Oh, day one and we’ve already got Mister Cynical,” Shitty catches the yawn. “That is a sign.”

Jack gives Shitty the finger.

_________

Hall pulls Jack aside after initial introductions.

“I need you to keep an eye out for anyone that needs improvement. There’s a freshman enrolled on waivers that submitted for scholarship and showed potential; I’d like to give him a shot if we’ve got any weak links.”

Jack casts a glance to the freshman running drills with Shitty and Johnson. They all appear to be decent talent, if rusty from a summer without conditioning.

“What kind of potential?”

“Ex-figure skater. Skinner-type. Speedy winger with some level of contact aversion.”

“Contact aversion? You could tell that from his tape?”

Hall nods.

“Never seen so much spin-o-rama in a submission. Skilled, but he was doing everything possible not to get checked. We don’t need the kid but I don’t like leaving talent on the table, especially when it’s already here.”

Jack takes a second look at the freshman, now with something amorphous to compare them to. Johnson catches Jack’s eye and waves. Jack waves back without thinking.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He echoes, knowing that while the request is somewhat benign, he’s definitely been directed to cull the fat from the incoming class.

__________

Jack blinks awake, not to a high energy tune, but to a soft, accented voice wishing him a good morning. Or, rather, wishing all of Samwell a good morning; but for a brief moment Jack’s bleary enough to live in a world where he’s just that special to be receiving a personal shout out.

The moment passes when the next song begins to play and Jack rolls over, covering his ears with his pillow to escape the synth bop.

___________

Jack wakes to Nicki Minaj and rolls over to grab his phone, squinting at the bright light as he texts the radio line with misplaced irritation. He’s only half awake but he can bitch like the best of them when he needs to.

Jack definitely doesn’t expect to hear a reply so quickly after the song ends.

“Wow. And I thought it was just campus security and my lonesome self out here. This student seems to have taken umbrage with my choice of music this morning and has suggested if I must play ‘pop’ music I sprinkle in a little ‘culture’. Well, mysterious student who has no reason to be awake and this rude at 4:30 AM, I guess I can meet you halfway. Hope you like Mika.”

Jack stares at his radio as the mildly accusatory opening refrain of ‘Grace Kelly’ begins drifting from the speakers. Jack actually does enjoy Mika.

‘You know Mika recorded a live album with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra?’

Jack doesn’t receive a reply, because it’s a one way line, but the next song is the orchestral version of Relax (Take It Easy), the soft rendition so gentle it nearly sends Jack right back to sleep. He slaps the snooze button before he loses his rhythm, and when the radio clicks on again five minutes later, the music that pumps through the small speakers is something Jack doesn’t recognize.

____________

The next morning, Jack wakes to late 2000s Britney Spears.

‘What was that about culture?’ Jack texts blearily.

After the song finishes, that soft, southern voice comes on the air and sighs, “I shouldn’t reward bad behavior, but I’m also certain you’re the only person on campus listening right now.”

The next track is another Mika song. Jack takes the victory and texts ‘Thank you. I like having a routine.’

Three minutes later, Relax (Take it Easy) plays again.

For the following week, at 4:30 AM sharp, there is a song from the same Mika album. Jack’s not even necessarily a fan, but he appreciates the gesture from this faceless DJ with an adorable voice.

____________

Petersen starts to fade around week three. Jack would assume some measure of partying is the culprit, but then he starts hearing the rumors about Yale sniffing around rival schools to poach talent after a disappointing recruiting season and losing several players to NHL development deals.

“Time to give that back-up kid a call?” Jack asks. “Petersen’s itching to bounce.”

“Might be time,” Hall agrees. “We’ll talk to Nathan and if he’s a goner we can bring Bittle in. If this happens, can I count on you to get him up to speed?”

The Jack of a few short years ago would have been insulted by the question, at the loose implication he can’t handle working with a new teammate, but he’s gone through enough therapy to know better, now.

“How much speed we talking?” Jack jokes, relishing the smile he gets from his coach.

____________

For the first time since he’s returned to Samwell, Jack wakes to a song that predates 2005. It takes a moment to adjust, and just like that, the new routine is gone. With Petersen gone, and a new winger stepping up to take his place, maybe it’s a sign of normalcy returning to the Samwell Men’s Hockey team.

____________

Eric Bittle introduces himself, voice light, bearing a familiar accent, and Jack’s first damning thought is that Bittle doesn’t have a face for radio.

#zimbits #omgcp #donation fill #dj!bitty #radio free samwell #zimbits fic #my fic #my stuff

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bungeenomin · 3 years

Text

THE PLAYERS GAME- XIAOJUN X Y/N SOCIAL MEDIA AU {9}

Soft music accompanied by the sounds of people conversing, along with the aroma of coffee fills y/n’s senses as she enters the coffee shop.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. Her very few experiences with Xiao Dejun so far have been nothing short of stressful. He was nothing but rude and disrespectful, what do people even see in him?

y/n pans the cafe, looking for one person in particular, and there he is. Sitting comfortably and casually on a seat in the corner, of the small coffee shop, black hood pulled up as he scrolls through his phone while sipping on his coffee. Xiao Dejun.

y/n takes a deep breath as she walks towards the boy, knowing she’ll need it. “Hi”, she shyly muttered once she reached him.

“Tsk tsk y/n” Dejun remarks, eyes not lifting from his phone. “I agree to come meet you and you keep me waiting”. This is going to be more painful than expected.

“Well funnily enough, i wasn’t expecting you to be on time” y/n huffs, throwing herself down on the comfortable seat across from Dejun.

Then there’s the awkward silence. Dejun, continuing to scroll through his phone, not even taking in y/n existence. That’s until-

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dejun almost shouts in shock, leaning across the table to try and follow what was his.

“Putting this away so maybe, just maybe, this can be someway productive” y/n sighs, shoving Dejun’s phone into her bag. “When we’re done, and you’ve been helpful i’ll give it back”

Dejun rolls his eyes. “Just give back the fucking phone” he mumbles, flopping back into his seat.

“The sooner you get rid of you wack persona the sooner this is over for both of us” y/n sighs.

y/n orders the usual, an iced mocha, not offered by Dejun to no one’s surprise. Once y/n is seated again, iced mocha in hand, it almost seemed like Dejun had realised that him and his persona were dragging out this process, as he was now sat straight, waiting for what y/n had to say, despite him looking like a child waiting for their parents to stop talking to the old colleague they ran into in the supermarket. Bored.

“Listen” y/n reluctantly begins. “I know you don’t want to do this, and funnily enough, i don’t think i want to either because of how difficult you’ve made this, but a grade is a grade Dejun. I don’t want to fail a relatively easy assignment because my partner had a shitty attitude and just cared about his boys, hockey and hookups’

“Funny how you see me as just caring about the boys, hockey and hookups” Dejun deadpans with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s how everyone see’s you Dejun. It’s how you portray yourself. Maybe if you’d do the damn project i’d have a different opinion of you. It would literally just have to be a few texts here and there, meet up like once a week for a little while, and then when the project is over you’ll never have to talk to me again” y/n said, rambling slightly.

“Okay fine, i’ll do the stupid project but i swear miss ants in your pants, if you piss me off i’m going back to winging it” Dejun announces dramatically, sitting forward placing his hand on his chin and staring directly into y/n eyes.

It really is a shame the he has such a bad attitude. He’s hot.

“Ants in my pants?!?” y/n questions, not sure if she really even wants to hear his answer.

“Yeah, you’re always yapping and complaining and whining and moani-, oh well not that one yet, but you always complain and it’s funny because when you text me yapping i can just imagine a little angry person shaking like they have ants in their pants” Dejun says with some how the plainest expression painted across his face, as if he just gave a weather report on channel 5.

“You don’t even know me!” y/n protests, “how can you be so quick to assume i’m always angry?”

Dejun leans a little closer, a small smirk on his plump lips, “the same way you can assume shit about me baby, like you said, maybe this project will change my mind”

y/n is baffled. At a loss for words. What did he just say? y/n can feel her face burning and no doubt, looks like a deer caught in headlights. How did he go from acting like a moody teenager to that.

“Now if you don’t mind” Dejun moves back into his chair, breaking the tension in the air. y/n feels like she can breathe again and at least go from the colour of the brightest tomato in the crop, to the colour of Hendery’s hair. “I have practice. Can i have my phone back? Have i been a good boy” Dejun teasingly asks. Maybe it would have been easier to just wing it.

“Here” y/n shyly says, handing the phone back, their fingers momentarily brushing off each other’s.

With that, Dejun stands up and gathers his things. “Don’t miss me too much, seeing we apparently have to see each other again soon”

“Trust me, i won’t” y/n replies, rolling her eyes and with that, Dejun left.

Oh y/n, what have you gotten yourself into.

——————————————————————

hi hi, please tell me in my asks if the full writing is okay and if you want longer/shorter next time.

let me know what you think of the au in the comments🤍

main masterlist | previous | next

socialmedia!au xiaojun!au wayv!au nct!au

pairing: xiaojun X y/n

genre: college!au , fluff , angst

warnings: smut, oral, sex

summary: Hockey player!Xiaojun is the biggest player in UCS, both on and off the ice. He has a different girl practically every time you see him. But when y/n has to learn all about the player for a psychology project, will she just be another girl that’s dragged into his game?

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

i think he knows | n. mackinnon

a/n: in honor of mine and @nolypats‘s campaign for nate mack for july 2020 hockey boy of the month, i had to provide with you some content. here’s my pitch.

warnings: language, smut, smut, smut. this really doesn’t have a plot and none of you are here for one anyway. also, wrap it before you tap it, kids!

wine pairing recommendation: a nice dark red bordeaux, classy and sexy, like nate mack, even though i would not call this fic particularly classy in any way whatsoever.

word count: 4.6K

You took a deep breath before taking a second sip of your drink. The bartender has turned your larger than normal tip into a much larger than normal pour of vodka and you weren’t sure his response was entirely proportional, meaning the drink had burned the entire length of your throat. Your momma didn’t raise a quitter though, so you drank on anyway.

“Baby, come meet Landy.”

Nate’s hand was pressed against the small of your back as he caught your attention. He had a hand hovering over you, on the small of your back, your hip, an arm across your shoulder, the entire night. He was showing you off all night, letting you take center stage at the kick off to the season party, also your first party as his girlfriend. You were smart, funny and your favorite little black dress was doing wonders for your confidence tonight. You were charming every coach, teammate, and Avalanche executive in your path. Nate wasn’t the least bit surprised. He knew everyone would love you and told you in the car on the way over, in the kitchen before you left, the second after he’d invited you to come.

“Oh, he’s finally unattached?” you asked with a raise of your eyebrows.

His captain had been occupied all night, but Nate was desperate for you to meet him. You knew Gabe was important to him, so you took another sip of your too strong drink, wincing a little at the taste.

“Bad drink?” he asked you, catching your micro-expression out of the corner of his eye.

“Too strong,” you admitted with a sigh, “but momma didn’t raise no quitter.”

Nate laughed, letting his large hand slide from the small of your back to your side which allowed him to pull you against him for a quick squeeze. He pressed a lazy kiss to the side of your head as he laughed.

“But my momma raised me,” he reached over and plucked the glass from your hand with his free one, “to be a gentleman. A gentleman doesn’t let a lady drink a bad drink.”

He took a sip of it, lips pulling back in disgust at the taste. You watched as he made his peace with the drink, shrugging before going back for another sip.

“It’s bad,” he nodded softly in agreement with what you’d informed him earlier. “But doable. Let’s get you a different one before we bug Landy, okay?”

You let him guide him over to the bar, large hand spanning across your back as he did. The heat from the palm of his hand felt like it was burning through your dress and into your skin below, lighting a fire within you. Passion had never been something you and Nate had lacked together. He ordered you a drink, something you would’ve verbally undressed your last boyfriend for angrily, but the way Nate did it made you want to undress him after this event was over.

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting your eyes rake over your boyfriend as you waited for your new drink, taking him in. Nate was leaned against the bar, an elbow resting on the dark wood as he waited. He was wearing an absolutely impeccable blue gray suit, with a black button up underneath. He’d chosen to forgo a tie, a decision you were slightly bitter about since you loved pulling him in by his tie, but you had to admit, he was always dressed perfectly for events like this. Your eyes trailed down, seeing how the fabric fit his strong arms, pulling and tensing when he shifted to grab his glass again. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched his hand wrap around the cold glass as he brought it up to his lips. Nate’s large hand enveloped the glass, dwarfing it as his fingers wrapped around the condensation covered glass. It made you swallow hard as your mind wandered to other times those hand were wrapped around you, long fingers in you, making you scream his name. If you played your cards right, he’d probably make it happen again tonight. Seeing you fall apart for him and then carefully putting you back together again after with soft kisses and touches was one of his absolute favorite things to do. He’d do it every day if he could.

“See something you like?”

Nate cocked an eyebrow at you as he asked his question, but made no effort to hide how his eyes travelled up and down the length of your body, hovering at his favorite parts, the curve of your chest, the way your hips filled out in that dress. That dress was going to kill him, but damn was it going to be a nice way to go.

“I hope you do,” he cut in before you could respond, “because I see something I’m dying to get my hands on as soon as possible.”

You swallowed hard, trying to pull your thoughts out of path they’d begun to speed down as your legs unconsciously crossed, desperate for friction. At least you knew Nate was feeling the same way you were. That knowledge carried you through the rest of the evening. You were sure Nate’s captain and everyone else you met were wonderful, but you couldn’t remember a single thing about any of them. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only, getting Nate back home with his hands all over you.

When you walked out into the cool September air, you breathed in deeply, feeling relief that Nate had finally found an opening to escape the party that wouldn’t be seen as rude. Nate had an arm around you, large hand spanning across your hip as he guided you to the car. You were usually grateful Nate hired a car for events like this, but tonight you wished one of you had driven because then you could speak your mind as loudly as you wanted. You had to settle for whispering into his ear after climbing into the backseat.

“You look so good tonight,” you whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze his skin as you spoke as your fingers ran through the hair at the back of his neck.

Nate sucked in a breath through his teeth. He’d never made any effort to hide how he felt about you, how easily you turned him on, and he wasn’t about to start tonight. One of his hands slid under the hem of your dress and gently started to rub up and down your thigh, staying away from where you wanted him and where he wanted to touch. You were his and he wasn’t about to give the driver a show Nate paid him to attend. His hand covered your inner thigh easily, fingertips dragging across the soft sensitive skin there in a way that made you desperate for him and his touch.

Nate tilted his head softly, encouraging you to turn your head so he could whisper in your ear this time. You knew whatever he was about to say was going to make this twenty minute drive seem like hours.

“I cannot wait to watch you cum for me tonight,” he said softly, his tone a mix of love and lust for you. “Hope you know I’m in charge tonight.”

He gave your inner thigh a squeeze as he spoke. You opened your mouth to try and debate him, thinking you’d love to see him under you, begging for you tonight, but Nate suddenly changed the status quo. His hand on your thigh shifted and his long fingers reached up, brushing over your lace-covered slit. When he ghosted over your covered clit, you almost screamed in the car, having to bite your lip hard enough you had teetered dangerously on the edge of drawing blood to stop yourself. You were aching for him and he knew exactly what he was doing to you. In all fairness to Nate, you were his weakness and you had worn that little black dress he loved so much.

Nate teased you the entire ride home, spilling filthy words into your ear and letting his fingers make you soak through your panties with the lightest of touches. You were practically in pieces by the time the car rolled up in front of his building. You were sure he was going to have to pick you up out of the backseat to get you inside because you thought your legs would crumple as soon as you tried to stand. Nate had an arm out, waiting for you, so you leaned heavily on him instead of really finding out.

The second the elevator closed, you let out a small chuckle.

“You know how hard that was, right?” you asked him.

Nate smirked as he looked down at you. Nothing Nate did was an accident and you knew that before you’d even asked. He also never made the same mistake twice, which is why his fingertips were drumming on your hip and why he didn’t have you pressed against the wall of the elevator as his mouth worked to pull moans that you didn’t even know you could make from you. Coming seconds from getting caught with his mouth on your throat and hand up your skirt once had been one too many times for Nate. The elevator was strictly off limits, but you’d never wished more that the rule was flexible. It wasn’t and you knew better to push.

The second the elevator doors open, Nate pulled you toward his front door in a rush. He tried to keep it together in public, but this was inches from his apartment. He wanted his girlfriend and fifty feet of carpet and a door he had the key to were the only things stopping him. Damn if he didn’t cross that fifty feet faster than he normally did. Damn if his hands weren’t shaking that it took six tries to get the key into the lock to actually get the damn door open.

He managed to get the door open on that sixth attempt, finally, and pulled you into his apartment, kicking the door closed and locking it again with one smooth motion. You paused, waiting to see what he had planned.

“Clothes off, bed, now,” was all he said as he kicked off his dress shoes.

You turned on your heels and headed for his room without any debate. Sometimes you liked to give Nate a hard time, but the wetness pooling between your thighs was demanding your silence since you knew if you listened to him, you’d get what you needed faster. You kicked off your heels and unzipped your dress, letting the soft material pool at your ankles before stepping out of it, hands working to unclasp your bra before you heard a whistle behind you.

“Hold on, hold on,” Nate said from the doorway. “Turn to face me.”

You spun on your heels, hands fidgeting anxiously as Nate extended the time before you could really feel some relief. He was leaded against the doorframe, still fully dressed in that incredible suit. His arms were crossed over his chest as he let his indigo eyes drink you in, relishing at the site of you in front of him

“That’s a new set, isn’t it?” he asked you.

“Saw it and thought you might like it.”

You let an easy confidence come through your words. Nate always made sure he told you when you thought you looked particularly good, which was multiple times every single day. He considered making sure you knew he found you “absolutely mind-blowing kinds of sexy” one of his most important jobs as your boyfriend. He loved when you were confident in yourself. It made him feel like he was treating you right and also just thought you looked your best when you thought you looked your best.

“You’re wrong,” Nate shook his head before letting out a long breath. “I fucking love it.”

You giggled and Nate was pretty sure if he died right then, that would be okay with him. Sure, he’d really like to touch you and taste you one more time, but if that laugh was the last thing he ever heard and if you in a black lacy lingerie set you bought with him in mind standing in his bedroom was the last thing he saw, that would be alright with him.

Nate shook his head softly before pushing off from the doorframe with his shoulder to meet you in the middle of the room. He reached for you and you leaned toward him, biting back a moan as his hands touched your skin instead of your dress. The things this man did to you were either angelic or downright criminal, depending on how you looked at it. He let his hands coast up and down your sides, feeling the transition between the lace and your skin, feeling the goosebumps rise as a result of his touch. He loved how your body unconsciously reacted to him. Sometimes he felt like you were made for him.

Neither one of you could take it any longer and his mouth found yours. Both of you moaned at the contact as Nate wrapped you up in him, his large hands sliding around you to find purchase on the small of your back. His mouth worked vigorously against yours, tongue working across yours, his teeth nipping at your lips, as he guiding you backward to the bed. Nate’s hands slid up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he reached up to unclasp your bra. You worked with him to toss it to the floor. It had a good two minute run, longer than you’d thought it would last.

Nate’s hands trailed down your body, two long fingers on each side sliding under and curling around the edge of the waistband of your thong before he yanked it down, letting it join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You thought it was unfair he was still fully clothed and you were fully naked, that is until he pushed you back onto the mattress and sank to his knees in front of you. The sight of him between your thighs in the suit made you moan. Nate’s eyes snapped from your pussy he’d been admiring to your face. He gave you a knowing soft smile as he placed his hands on your calfs, slowly and steadily making his way up your legs, fingertips dancing over your knees and thighs as he made his way to exactly where you wanted him.

“Like what you see?” he asked you, knowing full well he never intended to hear you answer before two of his long fingers found your slit.

Your head dropped back onto the mattress as you let out a moan that was far too loud considering this was the first time Nate had actually touched you all evening. His fingertips found your clit and starting working in smooth, slow circles. You could feel his eyes on you, studying your body for your reactions. You would tell him if you wanted him to go faster or slower, but he was trying to figure it out for himself so he wouldn’t even need you to tell him. It was his latest challenge to himself and he was getting pretty fucking good at it.

His fingers shifted forward, applying more pressure and pulling another moan from you. You were so wet for him, so needy for him, you were closer to your orgasm than you usually were. You thought about letting Nate know, but suddenly he brought his other hand up and slide two long fingers into you without warning.

“Oh, fuck, Nate,” you whined at the sensation.

His fingers were so long inside of you and he knew exactly what he was doing. He curled them ever so slightly up as he pulled out, pulling the moan he wanted from deep in your chest. His fingers on your clit starting moving a little faster, pushing a little harder down, as his fingers inside you slid in an out at a steady pace. Nate knew better than to think he should change what he was doing when something was clearly working for you, just doing slight adjustments that make you want to scream.

“Nate,” you whined again as your hands grabbed onto his bed sheets, pulling them tight in your hands.

“That’s it,” Nate said softly before placing a kiss on your inner thigh. “Just focus on me.”

The idea that you could possibly be thinking of anything else right now was beyond you. You did your best to listen to him, prying your eyes open to look at him. You bit your lip at the sight. Nate was focused on you, his eyes jumping all over you. He was noticing how your breathing changed when he changed an angle slightly or added more pressure. He was noticing what made your legs start to shake. He was taking in every single detail, committing it to memory so he could do even better the next time, and so he could make through the long road trips to come. How he was supposed to go up to two weeks at a time without your pussy was beyond him.

“Nate,” you breathed out. “I’m so close.”

Nate shifted on his knees, bringing his face closer to your core. Without warning, he replaced his fingers on your clit with his mouth and sucked on the bundle of nerves softly and slid a third finger inside you at the same time. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming this time as your hands flew to tangle in his blond hair as your orgasm hit you. Nate pulled you through it, milking you for every shake and moan he could. He slowed his movements as he felt you come down, coming to a stop when you fully did. He pulled back slowly, placing a soft kiss on your clit, before sliding his fingers out of you. You winced at the loss of contact, making Nate smirk a little.

You felt the bed shift to your right as Nate climbed up next to you and you turned your head to look at him. His lips were slightly swollen and wet with you. His eyes were dark and hungry and he was still wearing his fucking suit. You wanted to rip it off him more than anything, but Nate was in charge tonight so instead, he offered you his fingers.

“You want to taste?” Nate asked. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

You nodded softly and sat up next to him, making Nate smile. He offered you his fingers and you obliged, parting your lips so he could slide them in between. He was slow and steady as he slid his fingers deeper, letting you take over and see how deep you could take them. When his fingers hit the back of your throat, Nate groaned and cursed softly.

“Jesus, fuck, baby,” he breathed out as you sucked hard on his fingers and began sliding back, letting his fingers fall out of your mouth after a few moments.

“You’re still dressed,” you mumbled, wiping the corners of your mouth off.

Nate smiled at you, the facade of the moment falling as he leaned forward to press a searing, sweet kiss to your lips. By the time he pulled back, he was already back in the moment. He stood up, taking his suit jacket off as he went. You watched with eager eyes as his fingers fumbled with the small buttons on his dress shirt because he was just as eager to be inside you as you were. He sighed as he managed to get the last button open, letting the shirt fall to the ground. His dress pants and boxers joined almost immediately and you subconsciously licked your lower lip at the sight of him.

Nate groaned in relief as he wrapped one of his large hands around himself and stroked up and down a few times, his eyes trained on your body as he did. He bit his lower lip when you spread your legs for him, giving him a full view of how wet you still were for him. He shook his head softly and smiled in a way that told you he was thinking that he couldn’t believe you were really his.

He dropped onto the bed next to you again, sliding his back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him. You hadn’t expected that, so you gave him a curious look. He just pat his thighs and waved a hand at you, encouraging you to come over. You didn’t fight and swung one of your legs over his large thighs to straddle his lap. One of his hands grabbed your hip keeping you suspended above him. He grabbed his hard cock in the other hand, lining it up with your entrance, before pulling down on your hip to pull you down onto him. You both groaned at the feeling of him finally being inside of you tonight.

“You always feel so fucking good,” Nate mumbled out between deep breaths as he adjusted to the feeling of you around him.

Both of his hands slid under the curve of your ass, one of them tapping the flesh there softly in a way that made you yelp and Nate laugh on his way to his destination. His fingertips dug into the soft skin there and his arms tensed as he pulled you up, almost sliding out of you, before guiding you back down. You hissed out as he filled you completely.

“Too much?” Nate asked you, pausing his movements to check in with you.

“So good,” was all you could say in reply.

Nate’s hands pressed harder into the skin of your ass as he pulled you back up, letting gravity drop you back down again. Nate’s arms tensed each time he lifted you up, but he was far from complaining about the amount of work he was putting in right now. He was in control of everything and loving every second of it as he tucked his face into your neck, mouth moving across the skin there to heighten the sensations for you and just enjoying the feeling of you around him as he slid in and out of you. Your nails were digging into his broad shoulders to find stability, but he certainly wasn’t complaining

Nate paused for a moment with you lifted. He shifted beneath you, sliding down the mattress a little to get better leverage, before he bucked his hips up to meet yours. You gasped at how deep he was able to get from that angle, your head rolling back. Nate took it, as he should, as encouragement and repeating the motion, fucking you from below as he held you up.

“Jesus, Nate,” you moaned as he hit a particularly good angle and bit down on a sensitive spot on your neck at the same time.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed out in response.

He paused again, his hands sliding up to your waist this time as he guided you onto your back, shifting so he was hovering over you instead. Nate grabbed one of your legs and placed it up on his shoulder, checking in with you to make sure the position was good. He settled himself between your thighs and guided himself back into you after he got your enthusiastic approval. You both were grateful and groaned to show it.

From this angle, Nate could pick up the pace more. One of his hands was on your leg, fingerprints digging into your skin, and the other was splayed out on the mattress by your head to keep his balance as he fucked you. You looked up at him, face twisted in concentration and pleasure, and you bit your lower lip. You hesitantly slid one of your hands down your body towards your slit.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Nate groaned appreciatively.

Nate absolutely loved watching you touch yourself while he fucked you and you were more than happy to do it. You placed two fingers on your clit and started rubbing in smooth circles. You immediately tightened around Nate, making him curse between his teeth and making you feel proud. You loved that you could pull that reaction from him and he loved giving it to you.

“Oh, Nate!” you shouted as he hit just the right spot inside you, making your toes curls.

Nate shifted his hips to allow him to hit that same spot again and again, watching you fall apart as he did it. You chased your second orgasm of the night and Nate brought you over the edge, screaming his name again. He almost lost it at the feeling of you orgasming around him, but he had other plans and losing it then wasn’t in the cards.

“God, that’s,” Nate leaned down, planting a wet kiss on your mouth, “so fucking hot to watch.”

You giggled, but it turned into a moan as Nate thrust into you again. He picked up the pace, meaning he was close to the edge. You were surprised he’d lasted past your orgasm since usually that pulled him over the edge with you.

“I want to cum on you,” he got out between thrusts.

You nodded in approval and Nate moaned when he saw your reaction. He really hadn’t expected you to say yes, so his mind was fighting to try to keep himself together long enough to pull out so he didn’t finish inside of you. He pulled out quickly, one of his large hands wrapping around himself and stroking one, two, three times before hot ribbons of cum began to fall onto your chest. Nate groaned as finished on you, his eyes taking in the site of you covered in his cum. His.

As Nate came down from his high, he rocked back onto his knees and let your leg fall from his shoulder onto the bed. His indigo eyes danced over you, taking in the sight beneath him. You looked absolutely incredible spent and covered in his cum, all because of him. Nate reached out, his hands hovering slightly over your chest for a moment, before he placed his hands onto your covered skin. He slowly and steadily, large hands taking their time, spread his cum across your chest, thoroughly covering you in him. You hummed in pleasure at the feeling, loving the feeling of his hands sliding over your skin. The sound made Nate choke a little as he had been expecting you to push him away before he’d even gotten this far.

“God, you look so good like this,” he mumbled. “Covered in my cum.”

“Mm, all for you,” you answered softly, a hand going up to stroke his jaw.

Nate breathed in deeply before pulling his hands back. You could see his mind working for a second before he offered you his fingers for a second time that night, pressing the tips of two to your lips. You let your lips part, allowing his long fingers into your mouth. You could taste him and yourself from earlier on his fingers, making you moan around him. Nate cursed at the sound and again when you sucked on his fingers, letting your tongue roll around them in your mouth to clean them off. You released them with a pop and Nate let out a long breath.

“How about,” you cleared your throat before continuing, “you go start a shower for us and we do round two in the shower?”

You didn’t have to tell Nate twice. He was already off the bed and heading to the bathroom as soon as the words “round two” left your lips.

#nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fanfic #nathan mackinnon fic #100% certified canadian beef #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

The other end of the spectrum

I don’t think I’ve written for any av besides Tyson, but don’t worry, he’s in this fic, I just kinda had to. But this was requested like a decade ago (no exaggeration there since you know I’ve had my account for about a year), and I still have three (maybe ?) more to work through. That being said, though, because I suck, Teach me something 3 is probably going to be dropping v soon since that is almost done.

Again, ignore typos (or point them out be like ummm excuse me)

I hope you like it! -------------------------

Should you be skating with your AirPods in? It wasn’t something that you had ever tried before, but it might be worth a shot now, right? But they were expensive, what if they flew out of your ears during your Biellmann spin, or while you’re trying to land your triple axel and ended up breaking on impact when they hit the ice? What if they fell out and someone skated over them? You could argue that whoever did that would have to buy you new ones, but you really weren’t that type of person to do something like that. Maybe, you could just try with something slow and see how they felt?

If only the rink weren’t open to everyone right now. Then you could lose yourself in the music of your routine like you did every time you were on the ice alone. You couldn’t make everyone get off the ice, either. Free skate was just that: free. There were parents with their children teaching them how to skate, some teenagers messing around on the ice, laughing, and making fun of how they look with their shorts and skates since it was the middle of the summer. None of them seemed to realize beforehand that the rink would still be cold since it was, you know, ice. One guy seemed to catch your interest: the only one skating around with a puck and a hockey stick. Hockey players and figure skaters were the exact opposite of the skating spectrum; you were all about delicacy and grace, hockey players were brash, crude, and rough. You were even on the ‘rougher’ side of a figure skater, and that only meant that you swore a little too much and didn’t really have an indoor voice. And yet, you were still infinitely more elegant than any hockey player you had ever encountered.

Whatever. You had managed to be on one end of the ice while it seemed like everyone else besides hockey boy was on the other. If you started your routine or even just practiced some of the elements of the routine that you knew you needed to work on, maybe that would get him to go to the other end. Sure, it wasn’t completely fair, but, hey, it’s worked before.

The AirPods were going to stay in, you decide, praying that nothing happens to the small expensive things in your ear. You start your routine, drowning out the sounds of the other skaters and letting the music fill your head. You close your eyes, not fully doing each element as you imagine a crowd around you. Competitions used to terrify you; the idea of a bunch of people holding their breath every time you did any sort of jump to let out a gasp if you fell or faltered, people averting their eyes if you had any sort of wardrobe malfunction that wouldn’t necessarily hurt your ability to skate, but would definitely hurt your ability to earn points from the judges, the overall sense of being watched was enough to almost make you quit the sport altogether. Now, it’s just natural, not being able to skate unless you know someone was watching you.

And someone was. Hockey boy, of all people, had stopped what he was doing with his stick and puck, standing against the boards, mesmerized by your fluid movements. He could tell that you weren’t doing everything to completion, but there was something about the way you seemed to take control of the ice that he couldn’t help but just stare at you. Your eyes were closed, it looked like you were muttering to yourself. Your hair was in a bun perched messily on top of your head, random strands framing your face seemingly perfectly. Who were you?

You decide to practice your camel spin; something that you were struggling with was making sure your leg was parallel, so might as well try now. You knew how it felt when it was right, you just had to actually get it right. Your music hits the place in your routine where you start to gear up for it, looking around you and seeing that you have open ice, you go for it. You do the move going right into it without problem. You can feel your leg just out of place as you speed up into the camel spin, not quite there. The music surrounds you in your AirPods, until one of them goes flying out. You stop your spin, trying to orient yourself and figure out where the small white ear piece went on the ice.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, scanning the ice to see if you can find it. If someone skates over it, you were going to throw a fit. Not at them, of course, because it was your own damn fault for wearing them in the first place, but a fit nonetheless.

“I think this is yours?” a deep voice comes from behind you. You spin around to see the hockey player standing in front of you, AirPod in hand. He almost looks nervous to be standing in front of you.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you say, taking it from him and putting it back in. The music fills your ears again, only to realize that his mouth was moving. “Sorry?” you say, pausing the music so you can hear him.

“Oh, uh, I was just saying that what you just did looked really good.” His eyes dart between you and the ice, shifting his weight between his skates as he runs his hands through his hair. There was no way a hockey player could be this nervous in front of you. While you weren’t frail, you weren’t exactly made of pure muscle. People could tell you did some dainty sport just by looking at you.

“Um, thanks. It wasn’t right, though,” you admit, looking at your phone to try to get back to where that move came in the music.

“What do you mean?”

Was he actually interested? He could have skated away already if he weren’t and you were about to start talking to someone else to get rid of him, nor were you going to try to be rude to him. “My leg is supposed to be parallel to the ice when it’s in the air, and it wasn’t. For some reason, I’m struggling getting it up.”

You look at each other, both blushing at the unintentionally sexual thing you had just said, “I’m willing to ignore how bad that sounded if you are.” Neither of you can help your laughter, but wow, he had a really nice laugh.

“Can I help you in any way?” he offers, putting his stick down against the boards.

“Uh, just watch me I guess? See if it looks like my leg is parallel or not?” you suggest. He nods, backing up to give you space after you hand him your phone with your music playing. You go on with the move, knowing that it didn’t feel right. “I have done this element hundreds of times, and yet in this rountine, I can’t get my leg parallel.”

“I mean, it looked parallel,” he says, skating back to you. You scrunch your face, obviously frustrated. Maybe you didn’t know how it felt when it was parallel? Or maybe you had stretched differently? No, you knew exactly how it felt. Maybe he didn’t know what parallel was. “I could help in any way you need me to, I just don’t know what I would do,” he spits out, his voice shaking again. Was he really nervous to be around you? Since when was a figure skater more confident than a hockey player?

“No, it’s fine, but thanks. I see my coach tomorrow, so I’ll have her check it out,” you shrug, bothered by the fact that you can’t get a simple move.

You start to skate away, muttering a goodbye when hockey boy speaks up, “Wait! Are you going?”

“I was going to. I’ve kind of been here all day working on my routine, so I was going to go grab food.”

“Maybe you’d like some company,” he asks, shuffling his weight between each skate, looking down at the ice. He brings his eyes up to meet yours, a smile on his face as his face turns red in anticipation of your answer.

“I don’t know if I should be going out with someone who hasn’t even told me his name,” you say, watching his face go from horror to relief.

“I’m Nate.”

“Well, Nate, where do you want to go?”

---------------

Nate walked up to the Pepsi Center, feeling weird that he wasn’t in a suit and carrying a cup of coffee, but a bouquet of flowers, dressed in a normal t-shirt and jeans and also using the same entrance as everyone else.

“Do you even like figure skating?” Ryan asks, him and Tyson trailing behind Nate as they struggle to keep up with Nate’s anxiously fast-paced walking.

“I think he likes his girl more,” Tyson says. “Hey, man. Slow down.”

Nate didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t over seeing you; you had been dating for nearly four months now. He might be more nervous about seeing you perform in general. You weren’t nervous about the competition and for some reason, it made him nervous; sympathy nerves? Were those a thing?

“She’s going to be fine, you know that, right? You said you’ve watched her practice this routine like a million times or something?” Tyson asks, hoping that it’ll calm him down. Nate didn’t even get this nervous when they were about to play a game. They were about to play game seven of a playoff game last season and Nate was the calmest guy in the room.

“I know, I know. She’s just been struggling with that camel spin since the day we met and her coach said that she was doing it fine and I said that she was doing fine but she didn’t think she was doing fine, and-” he rambles as the boys try to find their way to their seats.

“Dude. You’re not the one performing. Calm down,” Ryan says.

“I just want her to do well,” he says, shaking his leg, driving Ryan crazy. Tyson didn’t care much, but he just couldn’t figure out why his teammate was this nervous.

“She’s going to be fine,” Tyson reassures him, hoping that that was enough.

Nate’s leg kept shaking the entire time. They watched routine after routine: men’s short, pairs, ice dance, no one he knew since it was a United States competition and he had no idea who even came to these things. The only reason he remembered figure skating existed at this point was because of you.

You were waiting your turn to perform, running through your routine in the back area they had set up for the skaters to warm up, practice, stretch, calm down, do whatever they needed to do without pulling a Tonya Harding. Your coach was watching you intently, not nagging you enough to stress you out, but enough that you were fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the trivial things she was telling you. You already knew what you needed to do, and at this point, so close to you stepping on the ice, nothing in your routine was going to change unless someone hit you with a bat.

It’s your turn, all the nerves you thought you would be feeling melting away. “You’ve got this,” your coach says before pretty much shoving you on the ice.

You hear your name called over the speakers, waiting for the judges to give them the alright for the music to start and your routine to begin.

“Yeah, Y/N!” you hear three voices call, trying to be in unison, but just off enough that you could make out one of the voices: Nate. You didn’t even know he was coming. You can’t help but smile, a real genuine smile, unlike the practically forced one you normally had on when you were performing.

The music starts, you going through your routine like it was second nature. Knowing Nate was there made the routine feel so easy; every move you did felt right, the crowd seemed to be on their feet, not that you even paid much attention to them. You had no idea where Nate even was in the stands, not bothering to look for him until your routine was done. You wave to the crowd, everyone cheering, you hearing your coach screaming from the side. You find Nate, Ryan, and Tyson, excited to see them after the competition was over.

“That was amazing kid! You looked like you went to a whole other place while you were on the ice!” your coach boasts. You forgot you were even actually skating a competition for a moment there, “That might be a winning routine right there.”

You hadn’t even thought about winning, you just needed a high enough score to be invited to the next competition. It was the road to nationals, the road to the national team for the next world championships. But winning? That would be amazing, and definitely help your case for the national team.

You and your coach sit down, waiting for your score. You scan the audience, trying to orient yourself and find the boys again. Ryan looked like he was there because he had to be, which was fine; he didn’t really strike you as the type to want to go to a figure skating competition. Tyson seemed like he was enjoying himself, for the most part, maybe he actually liked the routines. But then there was Nate. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you, even when you were just sitting down, pretending to listen to your coach ramble on about the next competition. You couldn’t believe he would come and surprise you like this. Or that he would not only make two of his teammates come, but also make them yell your name like they were teenage girls about to see their favorite boyband.

The score was in, you were just waiting for the judges to announce it. This was the part you hated the most: the waiting. You were one of the last skaters, so whatever place this put you in was probably going to be your standing, maybe one place lower. Your score was in: five points higher than the next. “Holy shit!” you say, your coach hugging you as you sit there shocked.

“That’s first place! That’s first fucking place!” Nate starts screaming, Tyson and Ryan trying to get him to calm his excitement down, especially since there were children around. He couldn’t help it; his girlfriend probably just secured first place at the competition, especially after he watched her struggling with the routine in the days leading up to it.

The next few skaters go, coming close to your score, but none of them really able to break it. There was one more skater, a girl who’s made the national team for the last four years in a row. If you came in second to her, you wouldn’t be that mad about it.

She does her routine, you watching on the TV in the back while you know your phone was blowing up with texts from Nate. He knew that you wouldn’t look at it until the end of the competition, but that didn’t stop him from sending texting you about his excitement anyway.

‘You were amazing’

‘I’m so proud of you!’

‘We’re going out after to celebrate’

‘But if you can’t tonight then we will tomorrow after the game’

The other skater finished the routine, she looked a little shaky in Nate’s opinion, but then again, what did he know. He was just so proud of you. “So after this, if Y/N can, do you guys want to come with us for a little celebration?” he askes Ryan and Tyson.

“Something tells me this celebration should be just the two of you,” Tyson says.

“Yeah, I really don’t want to be involved in whatever it is you guys are going to do,” Ryan adds.

“You guys don’t have to be gross,” Nate says.

The score came in for the last skater: Y/N had a score 0.04 points higher than her.

You came in first place. You couldn’t believe it. Your coach practically lifted you off the ground, you were speechless, Nate was losing his shit in the stands. You couldn’t wait until after the medal ceremony for you to go see Nate.

After you get your medal, congratulate the other skaters, and finally gather your things, the only thing on your mind was finding Nate, knowing that he had already waited for so long. “Nate!” you squeal when you see him, tossing your bag to Tyson, causing him to accidentally fall into Ryan as Nate picks you up off the ground, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you.

“Get a room,” Ryan mutters playful under his breath as you two pull away blushing. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in protest, “only get one if you both want to.”

You can’t help but laugh as Tyson tries to hit him with your bag. “God, Y/N, I thought hockey bags were heavy, what do you have in here?” He asks, handing it off to Nate.

“Costumes, skates, tights, warm-up clothes, headphones, makeup, hair stuff,” you start to list off, Nate throwing his arm around you as the four of your start to walk, “I think I have a mirror in there, some books.”

“Books?” Nate asks.

“What? We have a lot of free time,” you shrug. “But I’m curious: did you bring those flowers for one of your boys?” you tease him.

“Yeah, they’re for Ryan for not pouting the entire time,” he jokes, sending Tyson into a fit of laughter while Ryan punches him in the arm. Nate hands you the bouquet filled with sunflowers and roses, your favorite flowers. “These, I hope obviously, are for you.”

“I love them,” you beam, stretching up to kiss him on the cheek. “You had mentioned going out tonight? Are you two coming, too?”

“Nope, we’re going home,” Ryan says, jingling his keys in your face.

“I was hoping to get a ride with you?” Nate asks, “Ryan drove the three of us here.”

“Sure, where to?”

“His house,” Ryan says, Tyson smacking him in the chest. “What! They could order food and be in private that is a perfectly reasonable suggestion!” Tyson pulls him away before he can say anything else, Ryan defending him while Tyson just tells him to quit while he’s behind since he has no chance of getting ahead.

“Interesting choice of teammates to bring,” you tell him as his free hand intertwines in yours.

He shrugs, walking with you to his car, “They were the only ones who I could convince to come.”

“What did you have to promise them?”

“I may or may not have to tie their skates for a few games,” he says, throwing your bag in the back seat as the two of you climb into your car.

“You did that for me?” you say, pretending to swoon to make him laugh.

“I think we’ve established that I would do almost anything for you.”

“Great, because I need to go rob a bank real quick,” you joke, getting another laugh out of him as you pull away from Pepsi Center and head towards his place.

In the middle of his laugh, you hear him let out, “I love you.” His eyes go wide with shock, surprised he just let that slip. He had planned on telling you how he felt soon, but not like this. Not on some night in your car on your way home from a competition.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him starting to freak out over what he just said. That was the first time you had heard him say it, but you knew he meant it. “You do?” you ask anyway, not bothering to hide the smile on your face.

“Well, uh, yeah,” he says, trying to calm himself down. Great. Now he was more nervous than he was before you did the routine. “You don’t have to say it back, I don’t know where you stand and I definitely don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you into saying it or anything,” he starts to ramble.

“Oh, be quiet jitters,” you say, cutting him off before he takes it back altogether, “I love you, too.”

#nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagines #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #avalanche #avalanche imagine #ryan graves #tyson jost #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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jeyusos-girl · 4 years

Text

Let Me Help You

Prologue to ‘Expecting’

Summary: Erik and his girl out on a date and Erik’s being his usual freaky self. *Inspired by this picture*

Warnings: cursing, some touchy feeling freaky shit😙

Word count: 2329

A/N: this is my first ever imagine, feel free to leave comments, things I should maybe work on, I appreciate it😙😙 also i used myself as inspiration for eriks girls so that’s where most of her appearance details came from 😭 Just another note, i edited this and replaced ‘Y/N’ with my name bc i want this to be apart of a series thingy im putting together.

……………………………………...

“Come on girl, damn!” Erik shouted for the umpteenth time.

“I’m coming, shit! This room is a damn mess, I can’t find my jacket. Jesus!” Samantha yelled from their bedroom.

“Don’t give me attitude, little girl, that’s all your shit in there. I told you to stop buying shit you don't need.” he chided.

“Whatever! Big ass head,” she replied.

“I heard that!” he laughed, shaking his head.

Erik and his girl, Samantha, have been together for a little over 3 years. They met at a local nightclub in downtown Oakland. It was a Friday night, Samantha was out celebrating a friend's birthday while Erik and his boys were celebrating the end of a busy ass week. Erik scanned the bar while sipping on his drink of choice, Hennessy, when his gaze fell upon Samantha. She caught his eye, to say the least, mostly because of her tight, bright red mid-length dress that accentuated every dip and curve her shapely body had to offer. The slit of the dress just high enough to have Erik salivating at the sight of her soft, pillowy thighs. Her dark, curly shoulder-length hair was fluffed to perfection and bounced with every step she made.

He was mesmerized, not wanting to look away. The more he stared the more he noticed about her, the snake eyes piercing that poked out whenever she licked her full lips, the butterfly tattoo on her left foot, her ass jiggling in that tight ass dress. ‘She definitely got no panties on’ he thought, biting his lip. His eyes scanned her body once more, making their way from her legs to her face just in time for them to lock eyes. She looked him up and down and shot him a smirk in which he reciprocated, flashing the golds in his mouth. She shook her head with a slight smile and continued her path to the bar. At that moment he knew, she was gonna be his even if he had to get on his knees and beg. Boy did she make him work for it.

Erik still thinks about it sometimes, how Samantha made him prove he really wanted to be with her and not just fuck her life up.

“I just wanna know if you're actually for real like you’re not gonna hit it and quit it. I don’t wanna have to go through that again.” Samantha confessed. She and Erik were sitting in his car, parked in the empty parking lot of Samantha’s favorite fast food joint.

“If I wasn't for real I wouldn't be here right now. I told you I'll do whatever to prove it to you. I just want to show you how a real man can take care of you. Don’t let past relationships block your blessings. Let me bless you, girl.” he finished, pinching her cheek. She smiled sweetly and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips crashed, moving in sync against each other. They pulled away, both sporting the cheesiest smiles. “Big ass head.” Erik laughed pushing Samantha’s head away.

“Hey! Rude.” Samantha scolded playfully.

Erik was scrolling through twitter laughing occasionally at some dumb tweets he saw when he heard footsteps descending from the staircase. He snapped his head towards the sound and saw his girl in all her glory. He looked her up and down and groaned internally. She wore black biker shorts that stopped in the middle of her thick thighs, a black spaghetti strap crop top, a jean jacket and a pair of red Jordan 1s. He gave her one more look before speaking, “You’re lucky you look so damn good or else I’d be telling you off ‘bout how long you took getting ready.” His eyes never left her as she walked up to him and put her hands on his chest. He couldn't resist the urge to reach around and grab a handful of her ass, groaning as he did so. “Damn, baby,” he shook his head and started placing sloppy kisses on her neck, “so soft.” He bit her neck, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from his girl.

“Okay stop, you be doing too much,” she moaned as he continued kissing and sucking on her neck, “we’ll never make it out the house at the rate you're going.” Samantha exclaimed.

“Aight aight, I’ll chill for now. But when we get back home your ass is gonna get it.” he finished giving her ass a hard smack.

“Ow! Babe!” Samantha yelped rubbing her butt to stop the stinging.

……………………………………...

A comfortable silence fell over the car as they listened to whatever song was on the radio. The pair were on their way to a new arcade that opened up in their area a few weeks ago. They had everything from pool tables, air hockey, old school arcade games, pinball machines, even TVs with a few different consoles, you name it. Samantha was the one who suggested it, she loved arcades. Erik took her to Dave and Buster’s for their first date, needless to say, that was one of the best dates Samantha’s ever had.

Samantha looked to the driver’s side admiring the man next to her. She was too lost in thought to notice the glance he threw her way. “What?” he questioned, smiling as Samantha snapped back to reality.

“Hm?” she hummed.

“What you looking at, girl?” he asked, looking at her once more.

“Oh, nothing.” she grinned.

“Mmhm,” he replied playfully. She giggled and looked out her window.

The last 15 minutes of the car ride went by fast. They pulled up to the place, hearing the music already. Erik hopped out of the car and jogged to Samantha’s side to open her door. She got out and immediately grabbed Erik’s hand before walking the short distance to the arcade entrance. Grabbing the door handle, Erik guided Samantha into the arcade but not before giving her ass a tap. Samantha looked back flashing a sexy smile and a wink, Erik biting his lip in response.

The pair looked around the establishment in amazement, taking in all the different games scattered throughout the place. The arcade was lit by many bright and colorful neon signs on the wall. “Babe, this is so cool!” Samantha exclaimed as they walked up to the front desk. Erik smiled at her childlike demeanor. Erik’s eyes found the pool tables immediately, he was a pro at pool. Samantha, on the other hand, was not, and Erik couldn’t wait to whoop her ass in a couple of games. “Ooh girl, you ready to get your ass beat in pool?” he asked grabbing the back of Samantha’s neck. She rolled her eyes and muttered a ‘whatever’ as she removed his hand. “What’s up, guys! How are you tonight?” the employee at the front desk asked enthusiastically.

“Good” they both said in unison.

“Alright, guys its gonna be $8.50 per person per hour, and just letting you know we close in about two and a half hours,” she said.

“That’s fine,” Erik started, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, “we’ll pay for the two hours.” he finished handing the employee his card.

“Alright, you’re all set, have fun guys!”

“Thank you!” Samantha shouted over the loud music before running off further into the arcade. Erik laughed trying to keep up with his girl. He looked around trying to find games they can play while they wait for an open pool table. “Baby lets play this one,” Erik said pointing in the direction of a two-player shooting game, typical Erik.

“Its on baby boy.” Samantha smirked giving him a smack on his backside.

……………………………………...

“Damn, why are you so good at every game? That’s not fair.” Samantha pouted looking up at Erik’s smiling face.

“I’m not good at every game, you just suck,” he whispered in her ear.

“Stop being mean, E.” she whined pushing him away.

“Okay okay I’m sorry, let’s go play a few rounds of pool while we still can.”

“You know I don’t know how to play pool.” Samantha groaned throwing her head back.

“I’ll teach you, baby girl, don’t worry.” Erik started setting up the game, placing the balls in the triangle. Samantha was busy picking a pool stick when Erik came up behind her and gripped her ass. “Boy back up,” she uttered trying not to let his wandering hands get to her.

“Oh I’m sorry I was trying to grab a pool stick,” he lied reaching around her and grabbing a stick, “all this ass was in my way, my bad.”

“Yeah okay, lying ass. Let’s hurry up and get this game over with, you know how you get when we play pool. You don’t ever shut up about how good you are, annoying as hell.” she grimaced in annoyance at Erik’s cocky smirk.

“I can’t help it ma. I’m just too good,” Erik circled around the table, “I’ll break.” He leaned over the edge of the table, pulled the pool stick back and hit the cue ball causing the colored balls to scatter around the table. He already got 2 balls in, “Alright I’ll play stripes, you play solids,” he said before moving to the other side of the table “go ahead ma.” Samantha moved closer to the table and leaned over, holding the stick in her right hand. She got into position, angling her body so hopefully, she’ll get a ball in. She pulled the pool stick back but when she went to hit the cue ball, she missed. She groaned getting into position again, but she couldn’t get it right. “Ugh, I can’t hit it,” she exclaimed looking up at her man to find him smirking at her failed attempts.

“Let me help you.” he offered walking up to her right side. He showed her the correct way to hold the stick and hit the cue ball. “Alright, you got it?” he asked moving to her opposite side.

“Yeah, I think so,” Samantha hesitated, “alright let’s see.” she finished getting ready to hit the cue ball. Just as she was about to go for it, she felt a large hand roaming around her backside. She stopped her movements, looking back at the hand then looked up at the culprits face. They locked eyes and she raised a brow, his hands still roaming and gripping her soft flesh. “Wassup?” he questioned as if he was doing nothing wrong.

“Uhmm, do you mind?” she snorted.

“Nah, go ahead ma,” he answered, hands still wandering. She scoffed, shaking her head trying to ignore the man next to her. She aimed the stick once more, took a deep breath, and hit the cue ball. To her surprise, she actually got one of the solid balls in. Samantha’s jaw dropped in surprise and she did a little happy dance. Erik smiled and shook his head, “Look at you, see all you needed was a little motivation.” he said.

“You call that motivation, you perv?” Samantha asked raising her brows.

“You know you liked that shit.” Erik pulled Samantha closer to him and assaulted her neck with sloppy wet kisses.

“Erikkk, ewww my necks all wet,” she whined trying to push his head away.

“Chill girl,” he said in between kisses, “lemme mark my territory.” he started sucking extra hard on her neck.

“Boy, I am not your territory, back up before I put hands on you.” Samantha threatened playfully. Erik looked at her with a fake hurt expression and she smirked.

“You cold, ma,” he responded, wiping the imaginary tears in his eyes.

Samantha giggled before speaking, “Okay babe cmon, let’s finish before they close. I’m feeling real confident that imma beat you for once.” she smirked moving to the side as Erik got into position.

“Yeah okay, keep dreaming lil’ one,” he muttered, going his turn.

……………………………………...

“Oh em gee, I can’t believe I actually beat you for the first time,” Samantha babbled while Erik followed behind her, both of them walking through the parking lot headed towards Erik’s car. Erik rolled his eyes in annoyance, “You only won because I got the potted the 8 ball, if it wasn’t for that you’d be crying like you always do. You got lucky.” he spoke rolling his eyes.

“Lucky? Nah I didn’t get lucky,” she got on her tippy toes and leaned in close to his ear, “you just suck.” she gave him a quick peck on his cheek and continued her path to the car. She smiled and shook her head as she heard Erik behind her mocking her words.

“You’re such a baby, E. you can dish it but you can’t take it, shaking my damn head.” they stopped in front of the car and Samantha turned around to face Erik. He had a scowl on his face, his full bottom lip poking out.

“Aww my baby, come here pooh,” Erik walked into her open arms and she grabbed the sides of his face, “you know I love you, daddy.”

“You not acting like it.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” she said kissing on his jaw, her hands making their way down his body.

“How?” he asked, a slight smirk on his lips,

“Take me home and I’ll show you, baby.” she flashed an innocent smile, batting her eyelashes while rubbing on his dick.

“Get your ass in the car before I take you right here,” Erik warned looking at her with flared nostrils.

“Okay daddy,” she winked walking to the passenger side of the car, swaying her thick hips a little bit just to tease him. She got in, pulling the door closed behind her, Erik threw his head back, “What am I gonna do with this girl?’ he asked himself before smiling and getting in the car.

#Erik Killmonger #erik stevens imagine #Erik Stevens #erik killmonger imagines #killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger x reader #erik stevens x reader

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jasonspezzas · 3 years

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Not that I care all that much he has one but of course Auston will have some sort of type he is a famous athlete he’s gonna set the bar high for women. I feel like girls get way too butt hurt over it. Face (not directed at you) reality majority of girls do not have a shot with him. Like you said it’s okay for him to have a type.

ok yes, to be honest this started as an ask about 1 hockey player’s “type” and my answer about how it’s none of our damn business but now it’s turning into a rant but bear with me.

to be honest I just have a tough time with any assumptions that fans make about any celebrity or professional athlete in general. we don’t know these people, their preferences, their personalties, their lives. we know as much or as little as they choose to publicly share and in many cases that is a very limited amount of information.

so i grew up and still live about an hour outside of toronto, i’ve been a leafs fan all my life so i’m used to how problematic and super gross hockey fandom can be but i am fairly new to the tumblr/twitter brand of hockey player fandom realm and let me tell you while it’s very different, it is not exactly a vast improvement for a few different reasons:

1) the creepy possessiveness: just because you are attracted to them or you stan or whatever doesn’t mean that they owe you some debt in return. just because you bought a jersey doesn’t mean they’re your man or whatever, by that logic my seventy year old father has had a beautiful and lasting thirty year relationship with doug gilmore. and it doesn’t mean that they’re monsters if they are typically attracted to a certain “type” that doesn’t match yours, they’re just normal people with attraction preferences, you can stop clutching your pearls.

2) the entitlement: these guys are just people doing a job and they don’t actually owe you anything. i’ve heard so many stories over the years of this guy’s an asshole to fans or this guy’s rude to girls in clubs or whatever. again, growing up near toronto and going to university in the city I’ve actually seen from the periphery what it looks like when there’s a leafs player at the restaurant or at the bar, and it looks fucking unbearable. if you are a player in a big hockey market you I promise you do not get a moment of peace and idk about you but if I was trying to have dinner with my family or a fun night out with my friends and I spent the whole night being relentlessly stared at and hit on by people I wasn’t remotely interested in, I probably wouldn’t be too accommodating by the end of the night either.

3) the infantilism vs the moral puritanicals: there are two types of hockey players that get talked about on tumblr, either you’re baby and you can do nothing wrong and any time anyone brings up any type of critique or even just honestly talking about stretches of poor performance they’re a disgusting bully and how dare you attack this innocent man child who’s done nothing wrong ever. OR you have made a mistake in your life and you are an unforgivable monster and none of your accomplishments or good deeds are worth anything, you should give up your dream job because I never want to see your nasty face ever again. how nice to know that no one on tumblr has ever made a mistake and has never needed the grace of forgiveness extended to them. (before anyone gets up in arms, i’m not talking about people with a history of well documented, repeated, horrific behaviour like racism or assault) also maybe do your own research about things instead of trusting a tweet or tumblr post from some rando with no receipts whatsoever (critical thinking is a cool skill, give it a try)

the moral of all of these are that these hockey players are human beings with a mix of good and shitty things about them and the crux of every issue i have with hockey player fandom is that there is no allowance for them to be human beings with both good qualities and flaws. just because they’re public figures does not mean that they’re exempt or less deserving of call outs for their fuck ups but also forgiveness for their mistakes and opportunities for growth.

#k that's all #that's just been sitting on my mind for a while #Anonymous

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rustyskateblade · 3 years

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tell me more about tyler bertuzzi and can i ship him with e. svech

oh buddy. ohhh buddy. i was gonna give you a small novella bursting with juicy information about this Roudy Little Scoundrel but then i remembered that the single greatest piece of yung berty literature has already been written, a piece which i like to imagine came to @detroitredwingsnbcsn like a prophetic vision to an oracle at delphi, which they then feverishly typed and posted here where the rest of us were blessed enough to bear witness to it. or maybe they’re just really funny. perhaps both. i hate to say it was their magnum opus but it really is That Good.

the ONLY addendum i would add to the gospel of tyler bertuzzi is information regarding his home gym, lovingly described here by dylan larkin as “the most sudbury thing ever” and by a fox sports detroit writer as “tyler’s home gym...for real”

i’m putting the rest of this under a read more bc it got a little wordy

i misread your ask at first and i thought you said “tell me more about tyler bertuzzi so i can ship him with e. svech” and i was like damn ok that’s a strange and bold endeavor but live your life i guess” but now i’m realizing you’re asking me if you can and asjdklfgjlkv bro u can do whatever you want. i’ve never seen anyone shipping them and it’s an extremely chaotic pairing HONESTly like. both of them are no tooth goofin, both have this unbridled bastard energy raging within them.

here’s what i can tell you about my boi evgeny:

-someone said he looks like a jack-o-lantern once and i can’t unsee it

-he loves his lil bro a lot and there’s like 50 posts that makes me emo about it but one of my favorites is that time he pretty much told ovi to watch his fukkin back after he got in a scuffle with andrei and the media had a field day with it and were like “is this a THREAT? should we SUSPEND HIM?” and i think he had literally just underwent reconstructive knee surgery at the time which made those reactions even more hilarious.

-he “tries to eat soup every day” so like of course we stan a soup king (the rest of that video is p good, it talks a lot about how much he loves hockey and how hard he works and it fills me with love)

-most of his comments on his teammates’ ig posts are just a wall of emojis and it makes me laugh every time

-when asked what he liked best about north america he responded, simply, “chocolate milk with cookies” bless him

-he started his very first media scrum with “hello friends” and i still find it endearing

-he’s a big fan of the word “sexy” and i occasionally laugh at old videos of him fucking with press people like “does my hair look ok?” and they’d be like yah it’s fine whatever and he’d be like “sexy? is it sexy?” and they’d be like uhhhh yeah and he’d just grin maniacally at them dajkldsajkflj

-when he was first drafted by detroit there was this one incident where a reporter was asking him what his name was (seems like maybe you should know who the first round draft picks are if you’re a reporter imo but whatever) and he was like “evgeny :-)” and they were like “evgeny WHO” kinda impatient and rude and he was like “malkin :-)” sdajfklsjka

fuck ok i didn’t answer your question, can you ship bert and geno? bro do what you must, i’ll support you. boldly go where no one else has gone. they’re at opposite ends of the rascal spectrum so it could be interesting i suppose. live your life etc. hope this helped??

#idk what happened i blacked out for a minute #evgeny svechnikov #tyler bertuzzi #detroit red wings

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hockey-hoe-24-7 · 4 years

Text

Since the Beginning, feat. Andre Burakovsky

Plot: You finally - and drunkenly - admit your feelings to the man you’ve wanted for years. Word Count: 2,013 Warnings: Some smut, mentions of drinking and being drunk

You heard Andre grunt as he collapsed on your bed next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Poor thing isn’t used to a man’s weight, you thought, giggling. Damn, you were drunk. But so was Andre, so it could have been worse.

“The room is spinning,” he finally said, his accent pronounced because of his drunkenness. “I’m surprised you aren’t dead from all the shots you took,” you replied. “Hey,” he answered. “People were buying them for me. It’s rude to say no.” You closed your eyes and smiled. Yes, the shots had been free, though you hadn’t had any because you were a lightweight and would very much be dead if you had taken more than you already had.

“Those guys were really nice,” you conceded. The two of you had run into a group of die-hard Avs fans who had immediately recognized Andre and insisted on buying him celebratory shots for his record-breaking season. Your heart had warmed when you saw how happy he was at their appreciation. He had been flourishing in Colorado and it made a warm feeling of happiness run through your blood. It didn’t really help that you were halfway in love with him.

It had all started in DC, where you were from, and where Andre had been drafted to the Caps. You had been a sophomore in high school when you had first met him because of your brother, who knew some of the young guys team and were friends with them. He and Andre had hit it off immediately and were pretty much best friends. Andre had been over at your house as much as his schedule would allow, which was frequent enough to earn him a spot as an honorary child to your parents. For you, he was much different. You had been in love with him since the second you had laid eyes on him.

Your mom had told you it was just puppy love, but your feelings had not changed in the 7 years you had known him. As a class-A nerd pretty much your entire life, your confidence hadn’t always been that high, and the thought of approaching a guy nearly had you breaking out in hives. It had been the age-old tale of the nerd pining after the jock. Even though he didn’t act like a typical jock, the imbalance between your lives was obvious to you. So you had kept to yourself and admired him from afar, content in your position as the cute kid sister, as you were to many of your brother’s friends. You saw each other sporadically as you made your way through college, and all contact had pretty much been cut when you had received early admission and a full ride scholarship to a graduate school in Colorado. Then, the universe had decided to either reward your or torture you and Andre was traded to the Avs.

Now, the two of you spent most of your down time together. He had called you on his first day in Colorado and your relationship had grown enough that you were confident to call him your best friend, and he would call you the same. But as great as it all was, your heart hurt because your feelings had really only grown since you had gotten to know him better. He was a wonderful man and his smile made your heart flip. It also made your panties wet.

“Did you get that girl’s number?” You asked, remembering the blonde he had been talking to when you were apart during the night. You knew you were being catty, but liquor made you brave. Or bitchy. It depended on the topic. Andre didn’t answer for a few seconds. “Yeah. I don’t really want to call her though.” Another beat of silence. “Did you give that guy your number?” His voice was harder and he sounded more sober now.

You shook your head, even though Andre wasn’t looking at you. “Nah, didn’t want to give it to him.” Against every instinct screaming in your brain, you kept talking. “I’m kind of into someone else.”

There was another long moment of silence and stillness, the only motion you were aware of was Andre’s chest moving slowly up and down, expanding with every breath. “Do I know him?” His voice was darker now.

“Yeah.”

“Who is it?”

“Guess.”

“Seriously, Y/N, who is it?”

Damn, your name sounded good when he said it like that.

Both drunk you and sober you liked the sound of his voice like that, so you kept going. “He’s really tall, he likes Chipotle, aaaaaand…he plays hockey.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andre’s head turned toward you. “Is it one of the guys?” Guys meaning one of his teammates.

You smiled, enjoying this way too much.

“Yes and no.”

“What does that even mean, Y/N?”

“He plays for the Avs…but he’s not one of your teammates.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Think about it, Andre. You’re a smart boy.”

There was another long, long moment of silence and you could practically hear him thinking. When he finally figured it out, the air around him seemed to change. In one smooth motion, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked over and down at you.

“Wait…seriously?”

The tequila still warm in your blood, you turned to look at him beneath hooded lids. “You get it now?”

He just blinked at you and you could have laughed at how adorably confused he looked. “For-For how long?”

You closed your eyes again and let out a sigh. “Since the beginning.”

Another silence echoed around both of you.

“Can I kiss you?’

At Andre’s question, your eyes flew open. The room wasn’t spinning anymore and you felt more sober than you had before you had even started drinking.

“Yes,” you answered on a rush of breath. It took everything in you not to practically beg.

Andre leaned down slowly and it seemed like eternity before his mouth touched yours. He tasted like tequila and mint. You were too afraid to move, so you stayed perfectly still, only letting your mouth open slightly against his. It was light and chaste, but still lit a fire between your thighs.

His hand moving slowly across your stomach didn’t even surprise you, as if you had been expecting it. You let your own hand come up to his chest, move slowly over his throat, and wrap around the nape of his neck. When his tongue moved against your bottom lip, you opened your mouth gratefully, allowing him in. He took full advantage and angled his head to go deeper.

It was like sipping on water after having none for months. Letting your head fall back against the bed again, you lifted your other hand to cup his jaw, take more. As his hand moved slowly up your hip to just beneath your breast, you arched into the touch.

That seemed to let loose something in him. On a deep inhale and surge of strength, he moved on top of you, settling his weight over your chest. Your breath left your lungs at the heaviness and you split your thighs to accommodate his hips. The kiss was deep and desperate now, and the need you had felt since the day you had learned what it meant to want a man lunged to the surface. Throwing your arms around his neck, you opened your mouth to his, wordlessly granting him anything he wanted. When you urgently nipped at his lip, he groaned into your mouth and tangled his hands in your hair, pulling you to suit what he wanted. When the heel of your shoe dug into his thigh, his hand went down beneath your knee and jerked your leg up. You gasped at the hardness of him. Your dress had ridden up so the only things in the way were his jeans and your panties. He ground against you and you gasped his name into his mouth, your nails sharp against his scalp. In another graceful move, he pulled himself away from your mouth and rose to drag his shirt over his head, throwing it to your floor.

He was gorgeous above you, all cut muscle that flexed as he panted. Already missing his body against yours, you grabbed his wrists and pulled him back down for another deep, wet kiss. When he pulled his mouth from yours again, you whimpered and pulled at his shoulders, but your strength was no match for his. He moved his mouth from your cheek to your throat, nipping at the skin. From your throat he moved to the exposed skin of your chest. His hands were now coming up your sides and you barely had to time to relish the feeling of them before he was hooking his fingers into the straps of your dress and yanking it down. When he saw that you were braless, he groaned your name and shuddered. Dipping his head, he took one pebbled nipple into his mouth. Crying out, you arched beneath the pleasure and pushed his head closer with an arm around his neck. He sucked deep, his tongue moving slow over the bud.

“Andre, please,” you gasped, completely without shame. You had wanted this for so long, spent so many nights wondering what it would be like. He moved to your other breast, this time nipping hard enough to make you yelp at the painful pleasure. When he suddenly cupped you through your panties, the heel of his hand against your clit, you bucked beneath him, chasing the sensation. With a growl, he moved lower, leaving a trail of long, deep kisses between your breasts, your stomach…

His loud groan startled you and you propped yourself up when he buried his face against the bunched fabric of your dress. He was heaving in breaths of air now, as if he was in pain. Your arousal faded as panic set in. “Andre?” you asked, your voice husky. “Are you okay?”

“God, Y/N, don’t say my name like that.”

With that, he pulled himself up and away to stand over you. “You are drunk and so am I.”

Not minding your state of disarray, you glared. “I am more sober than I have been all night. You are not taking advantage of me, Andre Burakovsky.”

“No, no, I know that, but…I really want this when we’re both completely sober. I don’t want to forget any of it. And I don’t want it to be rushed and messy and…whatever. I’ve wanted this for too long.”

Your heart skittered in your chest. “R-Really?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Y/N, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you. And how long I’ve wanted you. God, you have no idea. I will not let it be some drunken thing.”

“I had no idea,” you replied, not knowing what else to say. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you’re the best friend I have and I didn’t want to lose that. I can’t imagine you not in my life, Y/N. That, and your brother would have killed me. I had no idea how you felt.”

The tension broken, you threw your head back and laughed. “Andre, I have been touching myself to you since I was 19.”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m barely holding on here.”

“Then will you kiss me again?”

“If I kiss you again, you will not be walking for the next two days.”

Another burst of heat you felt through every nerve ending.

“Well, if you get me food I will sober up very quickly and then you can kiss me all you want. Wherever you want.”

Grabbing your hand, he pulled you up off the bed. When you stumbled against his chest, he allowed himself one more quick kiss before pulling away, much to your chagrin.

“Okay, but you have to change or we’re never going to make it out of this apartment.”

#andre burakovsky #Andre Burakovsky smut #Andre Burakovsky imagine #hockey smut #hockey imagine #imagine #smut #my work #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl fic #hockey fic #lemon #fic

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