#HE HAS TINY ICE SKATES ON HIS LITTLE PUCK FEET
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 | Austin Butler



• Summary: Every little boy has dream. And so does yours and Austin’s son. One day he wants to be an hockey player, and you two of course want the best for him.
• Pairing: boy dad Austin x mom reader
• Warnings: typos, and FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF!
• Proofreader: @eternal-love ! 💋
• Note: IMAGINE BOY DAD AUSTIN TEACHING HIS SON SKATE ! 🥹 Also! I named the son Liam but it’s in your free will to change it based on your pick! 🫶🏼
The television hums softly in the background, the NHL game on faintly. Your 5 year old son Liam sits cross-legged on the floor, eyes glued to the screen, lips slightly apart as he watches the game in awe. His mouth moves slightly, whispering along with the commentator’s excited voice, his little body leaning forward with every pass, every shot, every goal.
Austin sits beside you on the couch, his arm stretched along the backrest, fingers brushing your shoulder. It’s a quiet evening — the kind you love the most — your family together, enjoying the time and warmth of your home.
Liam suddenly stands up and climb on Austin’s lap. Austin holds his tiny body against his as Liam speaks out of the blue. “Daddy, I want to play hockey.” The words go from his little lips simply, but the seriousness in his voice makes your heart skip a beat. You glance at Austin, and he looks at you at the exact same time. For a second, neither of you says anything. You’re both thinking the same thing, he’s only five… He’s never even put on skates and stood on ice. He never even mentioned hockey before.
But then you look at Liam, at the way his tiny eyes shine, at the way he sits up straighter, gaze still glued to the game in television like it’s the most important thing in the world. Austin smiles and so do you. "You want to play hockey, buddy?” Austin asks, ruffling Liam’s hair playfully.
Liam nods, his excitement visible. "Yeah! I want to skate, like them!" He points at the TV, where the NHL players slide effortlessly across the ice, chasing the puck with precision and skill. You and Austin exchange that look, knowing you both want to fulfill your son’s dreams. "Alright, buddy," he says. "Then we gotta start with skating.”
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Few weeks later you and Austin bought ice skates and helmet for Liam. It was the cutest thing ever, seeing those little skates on his tiny feet. You visit the nearest ice skating stadium and let Liam on the rink. The first time you step onto the rink, Liam skates barely touch the ice before his legs shoot out from under him. He lands on his back, blinking up at you and Austin in shock. “Owie.” he says softly but bravely tries to get up.
Austin giggles and kneels beside him. “That’s okay, bubba. Everyone falls their first time. Try again." he helps Liam stand up, holding his little hand. Austin holds his tiny body, supporting him as he balances on the skates.
The next few weeks are a mix of wobbly knees, tiny hands gripping the boards, and endless patience. Austin skates backward in front of him, holding his hands, guiding him step by step. You stay close, sometimes on the ice, sometimes on the bench, watching with a mix of pride and nerves.
Liam’s falls are frequent, but he never gives up. He wants this. He wants to play hockey. Then, one day, it happens. Austin lets him go, and instead of falling, Liam glides forward, arms stretched out for balance. It’s shaky. It’s not perfect. But it’s real. He’s skating without any support. You stay beside Austin, jaw dropping as you watch him go.
Liam stops and turn to both of you. “Mommy, daddy I am skating!” he smiles widely and cheers. “You are, sweet boy!” you clap your hands, incredibly proud of his big step. Austin pulls you closer, watching as he skates around the rink. “We can sign him to hockey club.” he kisses the top of your head, glancing at Liam.
“We definitely can. He is skating now.” you grin, leaning against Austin. Liam’s skating skills improve with every single try and you two couldn’t be more proud.
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A few months later after signing Liam for kids hockey team, you and Austin find yourselves sitting in a cold arena, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The little team of boys whose jerseys two sizes too big, helmets slightly askew, lines up on the ice.
Your little son is among them. With his jersey on, his lucky number on it and “Butler” above it. You can hardly breathe as you watch him move, his tiny skates cutting through the ice with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. The game begins, and suddenly, it’s chaos. Sticks clashing, skates carving patterns, kids scrambling after the puck like it’s the most important thing in the world. And for Liam? It is the most important thing.
Austin is beside you, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, watching the game as intently as if it were the Stanley Cup Final. The first two periods both teams didn’t score any goal. You can see the sadness on Liam’s face as they try their best to score at least one goal.
During break time between second and last third period Austin brings you coffee, while carrying his own. “They will make it, I believe it.” he says confidently, trusting. You smile faintly, sipping coffee from the paper cup. “I hope so… Liam would be so disappointed…”
“Don’t worry, love. We need to believe. His team is really good, I have no doubts about them. After a while third and last period starts. Your nerves are strong but you keep on believing. It’s last six minutes until the end of third period, both teams’ score 0:0. Then it happens.
Somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, the puck lands on Liam’s stick. Your heart stops, and immediately grasp Austin’s hand. You see the hesitation in his body, the split-second of doubt in his stance. But then, something shifts. A flicker of determination flashes across his face behind the helmet.
He pulls back and swings. The puck soars through the air. He chases after it, approaching the net. And then… The red light flashes. The buzzer sounds. Goal. The crowd erupts, mostly parents of boys in your son’s team, but most cheering people are you and Austin.
You and Austin jump onto your feet, arms flying over your shoulders as Liam throws his arms in the air too. His teammates swarm him, knocking him against the boards in an overjoyed huddle.
Beside you, Austin lets out a cheer so loud it echoes through the entire arena. “Good job, buddy!!!” You don’t even realize you’re laughing until he pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground in his excitement. “He did it, love!”
“He did!” you smile wide, hugging Austin so tightly, pride and joy taking over your mind. Your son looks up into the stands, searching for you, until he finds you. And the widest smile on his face is the kind of thing you’ll remember forever. He waves at you, his teammates still hugging him, cheering his name.
Tear of joy escapes your eye, as you and Austin watch Liam with pride. Thanks to him, the team wins 1:0 over the other team. When Liam's team's awards are announced, they also announce the best players. The first to be announced is the goalie who bravely protected the net and didn't let slip any goal. And finally, the commentator announces;
“Number 27… Liam Butler!” the whole team cheers, screaming his name as he skates for the trophy. They shake his little hand and he takes the trophy. And just how they do it, Leo skates towards the team and then raises the trophy above his head and team goes crazy.
They cheer, laugh, scream and hype Liam. It’s truly a moment to remember, especially for you and Austin. You couldn’t be more proud of him. After the game, he is back in his clothes, his hair a bit sweaty but he has the widest smile.
“I did it, mommy, daddy!” Liam cheers, showing off his medal. “You did, buddy! We are so proud of you!” Austin raises him up from ground, wrapping his arms around him and you hug them both. “You did absolutely amazing, sweetheart!” you pepper his little face with kisses as he giggles.
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That night, when you’re tucking Liam into bed, his medal already hanging on the wall of his room, he’s still buzzing with excitement. He talks about the game, replaying every moment of the moment he scored, every near-goal, every pass. His little hands move as he tells it all, his eyes practically glowing with amazement.
"Mommy?” he says suddenly, turning to face you in his bed. "Do you think I can be a real hockey player someday?" Your heart swells with love. You brush his hair back from his forehead, pressing a soft kiss there. "I think you can be anything you want, sweetheart. And if you ever be a hockey player, daddy and I will support you in every way.”
He grins, curling up under the covers. "I wanna play forever!” And as soon as you turn off the light, stepping into the hallway where Austin is waiting, you know this is just the beginning. And you can’t wait to see where it takes him.
Just imagine him being this happy and proud of Liam 🥹🫶🏼

#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler imagine#austin butler x you#austin butler fandom#austin butler x y/n#austinbutler#austin butler fic#austin butler imagines
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march 9 @ wild, 3-1 win
i like the convenience and novelty of seeing them play in my town but also like...go away why are you so close to me. the knowledge that they slept less than a mile from where i live the night before the game is unsettling. get out of my school.
loved getting his and his goals AND penalties though. they really do everything together don't they?
good grief are they getting weird in warmups though, like...stop crawling all over each other you're in public? yikes. this fic was inspired by geno skating past sid and like...literally smelling him? i have no idea it was so fucking odd.
One of the team omegas going into heat always throws everyone off. Even the guys who think they’re above it all, more enlightened than their designations and fully in control of their instincts, end up succumbing.
The whole team gets worked up, especially when they’re on the road and nobody has a chance to go home and get a little distance. They’re around each other all the time 12+ hours a day, and the only breaks they get are when they’re boxed into tiny hotel rooms that smell like strangers and do nothing to help soothe frazzled, on-edge instincts.
It comes to a head in Minnesota. Sid can’t say Karl didn’t time his heat impeccably; by the smell of it, he’ll tip over fully tomorrow, when they’re back in Pittsburgh and he can den down with his mate of choice to ride it out.
As if it’s going to be anyone other than Kris.
Sid watches in vaguely-impressed disgust as Kris practically drools over a puck he’s got parked between his feet, spitting pheromones onto the rubber before passing it with pinpoint accuracy across the ice to where Karl is dawdling through his own warmup routine.
“So gross,” Geno mutters from behind Sid in delighted horror. “Can’t believe Tanger does, like, there’s people everywhere.”
Sid glances briefly at the glass; there are a lot of people down to watch warmups, even more than normal in Minnesota which always draws a large crowd. Kris is oblivious to it all, skating wide arcs around the blue line with his eyes fixed on Karl.
Honestly, Sid gets it. Karl’s pre-heat smells sweet and tempting, and if Sid were still chasing after omegas like he did when he was younger he’d probably have a go at courting behaviors himself. Not now, of course, he’d never trigger a brawl with a teammate before a game, but he’d try something.
Geno circles in front of Sid, tipping his head down and sniffing ostentatiously. “You stink,” he says, voice low and fond and dirty in a way that draws Sid’s attention to him like a magnet. “Think maybe you’re want to do too.”
Sid reaches out and snags a stray puck with his stick, handling it between Geno’s feet. “I’ll spit on whatever you want back at the hotel tonight,” he says before taking off for the net, leaving Geno sputtering and reeking of arousal in Sid’s wake.
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Getting a win after a shutout is great. Sid has a little extra juice all night, and it’s nice to get rewarded. He’ll never admit to tracking his own stats, but he knows about the Gretzky record just as well as the entire Penguins fanbase; he knows what’s at stake.
Twelve more points in sixteen games feels a lot more doable now than it did a month ago, when his wrists were sore and aching and his left arm was all but useless.
Geno netted his own goal too, banging his own rebound past Flower and crowing at him so loudly about it that Sid could hear it all the way from the bench.
Outside the arena, Sid sucks in a deep breath, letting the fresh air clear his head. The locker room had been fogging over with omega slick, and if Sid was affected Kris was practically catatonic, trailing after Karl into the showers and back out like he was on a leash.
Karl isn’t even in heat yet for real. It’s going to be a long flight back to Pittsburgh tomorrow.
The walk across the park back to the hotel is short, but it’s enough for Sid to shake off the last of the game adrenaline and the base, instinctive need to put on a show in front of a cycling omega.
Geno paces him, hands shoved in his pockets. He looks unaffected, but that’s nothing new. Sid can’t remember a single time an omega turned Geno’s head, not even when they were reeking of pre-heat and practically throwing themselves at him. He’d barely even smell interested.
Sid used to worry he was homophobic or something because of the way his stomach twisted when he watched Geno slip out of bars with other alphas. It used to keep him up sometimes, agonizing over how he could be a good, supportive captain, how he’d be able to say and do the right things to make sure Geno didn’t feel alienated, all while feeling the way he did.
It took him a while to figure out what was really going on. Nobody’s ever accused Sid of being deeply in touch with his feelings. He’s glad Geno was patient with him in those early days.
Sid likes to think he’s made all that initial weirdness up to him and then some in the intervening years.
Geno nudges him as they step into the lobby. “Good game,” he says, herding them towards the elevator; he always gets antsy about Sid’s privacy when they’re in public, does his best to put himself between Sid and anyone who looks like they might bother him.
It stirred up complicated feelings in Sid for years, shame twisted with arousal. Now, he just appreciates the way Geno really looms over him when he wants, the warm press of his body along Sid’s side, his big hands on Sid’s back as he hustles them down the hallway and into their room.
He can’t help but push back a little, dig his heels in and fight Geno’s grip; he’s still an alpha, after all, and he’s not going to go down easy, not even when it’s Geno putting him there.
Geno gets Sid pinned up against the wall and leans down, opening his mouth over Sid’s scent glands and inhaling. The scrape of teeth on skin freezes Sid in place, hair standing on end as his body reacts to a perceived threat so near.
“Smell so good,” Geno rumbles, way down in his alpha register. His hands are all over Sid’s body, handsy like he always is, proprietary and possessive without a care for the way Sid’s having to breathe through his initial reaction to fight.
This is how it goes after games when they’re both worked up. Geno boxes him in, Sid reminds himself he likes it.
Sid has to admit that he had some ideas about what Geno would be like in bed. He’s gay, after all, not a flicker of interest in omegas, and there are stereotypes that Sid’s embarrassed he assumed would be true. He’d had a hazy picture in his head of Geno rolling over and presenting, going belly-down and whining for it like his omegas always have.
Sometimes, Geno does do that. But sometimes Sid does too. Most of the time, it’s like this:
Geno backs off just enough for Sid to push at him, wrestling them both towards the bed. Geno’s musk fills the room; Sid’s probably is too, but obviously he can’t smell himself. The heady scent of aroused alpha turns Sid’s crank like crazy, sends him out of his skin with the need to touch, to claw and bite and own.
He wrestles Geno onto his back and tucks his face into Geno’s neck, breathing so deeply he makes himself dizzy. He imagines sinking his teeth in, like he would have years ago without a second thought if Geno were an omega, leaving a mark on Geno’s neck for all to see. It’s taboo, transgressive enough to make Sid’s guts squirm and his dick twitch picturing it.
He doesn’t dare imagine Geno leaving a mark of his own on Sid’s neck, not if he wants this to last.
Geno’s nails scratch into Sid’s skin as he scrabbles at Sid’s shirt. Getting them both naked nearly devolves into a fight, but eventually their clothes are in a pile on the floor and Geno’s sucking on Sid’s tongue as he plays with Sid’s balls.
His hands are huge, and Sid thinks about spreading his legs and begging Geno to finger him. They don’t have time, not with an early flight the next day and a game the day after; the worst part of sleeping with another alpha is the amount of time everything takes if they want to fuck, and Sid’s not in the mood to slip into the bathroom and do it himself, to come out and pretend he’s an omega, all ready for Geno to slide right in.
The best he can do tonight is thrash until they’re on their sides, Geno curled around Sid’s back with one hand on his dick and the other playing with his chest as Sid spills lube over his hand and rubs between his thighs before tucking Geno’s dick there and squeezing.
“Fuck,” Geno grunts, humping forward and practically rolling Sid onto his stomach. Sid grits his teeth and braces, reaching back and digging his fingers into Geno’s flank as Geno fucks into the space between his thighs.
It sounds obscene in the close little hotel room, slick thrusts and slapping flesh, and Sid tosses his head, burning with humiliation. He’s so close, and the idea of anyone knowing how hard this is getting him off, letting another alpha drool all over him and make Sid his bitch, makes him moan.
“Geno, please,” he gasps, and Geno’s hand on his dick is too rough, too much too fast, but it tips him over the edge, and he comes with a shout into Geno’s palm.
Geno squeezes over his knot, painfully tight and just what Sid needs, and Sid tenses his leg muscles, working Geno’s dick over as best he can until Geno comes too, his own knot swelling between Sid’s thighs.
Geno’s breath is hot on Sid’s neck. Now that they’ve both come the immediate threat of another alpha’s bite has receded, so Sid tilts his head to the side, smiling when Geno immediately plants his face against Sid’s skin.
“Smell something you like?” he chirps. It’s weak, but he’s tired, and orgasms like that one, that feel almost more like a fight than sex, sap him of his ability to be witty.
“Smell like mine,” Geno replies, and Sid sinks into his words, the way they make him feel.
He does belong to Geno. Always has, even when he didn’t realize it yet. Geno belongs to him too.
Sid falls asleep thinking about how maybe his fantasy of matching mate-bites isn’t that insane after all.
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THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD
⚠⚠⚠ SMUT ⚠⚠⚠
it all happened right after C/N’s last game of the season and his first fight on the ice. he was always looking for me in the crowds and he was not paying attention to where the puck was so he skated into the wall and into the opponent. the opponent was not happy with this so he threw the first punch. they both got sent to the locker room early. since i saw that C/N got sent to the locker room, i decided to go and wait for him by the doors. i saw him waking in my direction fuming about being sent off early. it didn’t even look like he wanted to talk to me, Y/N his gf, but he did. he grabbed my hand quickly as he could and made me walk in to the locker room that had the smell of men ready for battle with him. he sat me down on the bench next to him where we started to talk about what had happened. at a slight pause in his rant i told him to go shower and change because he smelt. he slowly got up and said he’s gonna go change and shower but of course since no one else was in the room with us he grabbed my hands and brought me over to a shower stall and told me to get ready. i asked him get ready for what? and he said you’ll see soon enough. he walked over to the locker room door and locked it. as soon as i heard the door being locked i thought to myself ‘is this the day that i will no longer be untouched?’ and ‘is this really happening?’ i also heard after the door being locked that there was a faint running sound. that running sound happened to be the pounding of his hurrying feet on the ground. he shouted to me ‘are you ready for me?’ and i didn’t believe this was happening so i said back to him not yet as i rushed to get off my pants and shirt leaving me with just my bra and panties on. when i was done, i told him to come into the room and he did. i was not expecting to see him with nothing on though. it was just him and his dick, i proceeded to ask him like a good girl if he wanted to help me with a little problem i had. he said of course but it will come with a price. he skipped into the stall with me where he would see me butt ass naked and i would take one of his hands and put it on my waistband of my underwear. he told me that those will not be necessary so i took them off as well as my bra. because his hands were still on me, i decided to put my hands on his hips. with his hands on my hips he brought me in close for a deep kiss. every inch of his body was pressed against me. His hands on my back bringing me closer. His chest pressed against mine. His ever-growing dick against me. It was glorious as our two individual bodies combined to become one, just standing there deep kissing. nothing else exists in the moment except our bodies pressed against each other. when we finally break away i then run my hands down further to his erect penis. i slowly got to my knees, i asked him if i was a bad girl. you are not, you are not a bad girl, you are a good girl and you will get what you deserve. as you go down you see what he has to offer, you've always heard it was bigger but when you are actually there you see how big it actually is. you are tiny, so everything looks bigger to you, but damn, he is big..... he slowly guides his dick to your mouth. you have always thought of this happening and how to do it but you naturally forget in the heat of the moment so he talks through it with you. he first tells you to stick your tongue out and lick it lightly up and down.as you are doing this you hear him give slight moans of release and pleasure so you decide to take it a little further by putting it in your mouth. as you do this you look deeply into his eyes and he begins slowly thrusting his manlyhood into your mouth.you noticed that he liked you licking it so you circle your tongue around it. you once again pull away from him and unexpectedly he sprays you on your tits with his warm cum. after that C/N stands you up and says it is now his turn. he draws me near again and walks me to the benches where he lays me down face up. he spreads my legs and begins to lick my inner thigh. slowly, kissing every inch of it. then above my clit, then around it driving me crazy. he was starting to use more and more pressure with every flick of his delicate tongue until i eventually started gasping louder and louder. he suddenly stops so you tell him to not stop. he goes back to your soaking pussy where he laps up your sweet juice until you start screaming ‘keep doing that daddy!’. you and C/N continue until you hear the final buzzer and you are both so exhausted.you two almost forget that you are in the locker room with the door locked when you hear knocking on the door. you hurry to get dressed and get out of there before everyone on the team knew you and C/N’s secret time together @strniohoeee @shannontheslayer
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