#Nikita Zadorov fic

[starbabyg]

tbh i would love to hear some zadorov thoughts (he is so large and im feral like not only tall BUT BEEFY 😩 like sorry i just came)

gwerlll!!!! This one gets nasty!!!

This Russian man!!!!

His dick is thiccccc. It has some girth to it

Like it just stretches you out so good it’s almost painful

It’s a heavy son of a bitchhh

He’s rough and doesn’t give a fuck

Smacks your ass and teases you for whining

“Awe listen to those cries, keep ‘em coming sweetheart I love to hear you whine”

He’s just a giant of a man

Can easily just pick you up and fuck you

He can literally do those positions that are in pornos

Just fucking you mid air

He loves to fuck you from the back

He wraps your hair around his hand and pulls you back into him, curling his hand around your throat

Meanwhile he’s whispering the nastiest of things to you

“If only you could see how dirty of a girl you are. My pretty little slut.”

Although that does give him an idea: buy a mirror so you can watch yourself get fucked

He gets a giant mirror and places it in front of the bed

Nikita loves to force you to watch yourself, as much as you can when your eyes aren’t rolling to the back of your skull

He loves to play with your pussy, legs forced open with him speeding up his pace every time you try to squeeze them together

Ugh he just smells like sex, tobacco musk, and vanilla. Yummmm

This man will try everything under the sun with you

Rope bondage, even having the rope mounted to the ceiling so you’re just dangling a few feet off the ground, all entrapped in a makeshift web that leaves you vulnerable to him

Although Nikita would be a total freakazoid he’s also the type to be soooo goofy during sex

Like you’re waiting on him to get a towel to clean you up and he’s doing some funky dance *insert him twerking from that one video*

The shift mostly happens after y’all have kids (if you choose to)

He has more paternal instincts so he dials down the bruise leaving spankings and choking

It’s more him praising your body for being so beautiful and giving him his children

“Mmm the beautiful mother of my children, you’re an angel and a saint.” As he kisses up your chest to your chin

Although when you’re like “errr can we get freaky like we used to” he does notttt hesitate

But he does make the kids go to their grandparents for the weekend cause he knows he’s gonna make you scream bloody murder when he kills da pwussyyyyy

I just know zadorov got a freaky ass sex life tho ugh!! I need to see itttt!!!

[alltaternotot]

Looking Glass | N. Zadorov

Nikita Zadorov x tailor! Reader

Summary: Nikita is trying to find a new suit tailor after his retires, and he is surprised to find a small tailor shop with all kinds of surprises, even beyond the suit

WC: 11k

CW: fluff, smut, relatively slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers?? swearing, limited knowledge about tailoring/suitmaking, the use of the words “suit” and “hand” a million times, light proofreading. Let me know if I’m missing something!

NSFW (MINORS DNI): fingering, p n v, in the mirror, clothed sex, so much praise it’s not even funny, Z likes to talk, consent checks, creampie (BE RESPONSIBLE! WRAP IT!), aftercare, this one got HORNY so be warned.

A/N: cuz we all love a giant pretty man in a nice suit ;)

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1 - the meeting

“I’m sorry Nikita, I’m retiring in two weeks, I’m finishing your last suit order then I can’t take any more. But I really do appreciate your business over the years, my friend.” Nikita’s tailor, Dimitri, said over the phone in Russian.

This was a little bit of a shock to Nikita, as his tailor had been designing and fitting his suits from day one, all the way back in Colorado. His closet was piled high with suits he would never stop loving, years and years of designing a look that was perfect for him.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m thankful I could at least get one last suit from you. I hope retirement treats you well, call anytime if you find yourself in Vancouver.” He said, earning a light hearted chuckle on the other line.

“Will do Nikita. Your suit will be on its way to you in the next few days. Best of luck this season.”

They ended the call with the usual goodbyes and made his way over to his closet, pulling out his navy pinstripe suit for the game coming up in just a few hours. His ex used to pick out his suits every game day, but now that they had been broken up for some time he started to enjoy the freedom of wearing whichever suit he felt like. His style was his own after all.

He burned the day away, working out and skating in the morning, eating a light lunch and watching some new show that Quinn had mentioned. He felt calm and ready for the evening ahead. The game hadn’t changed in that way for him, he still loved it like he did as a little boy back in Moscow.

It was finally time to get dressed, his favorite part of his game day routine. He threw on a crisp white button down with a burnt orange tie, one that stood out against the rich blue of his suit. He slipped his legs into the soft fabric of his dress pants, then his large arms into the sleeves of his jacket, he opted for sunglasses, one of his gold watches, and a spritz of his favorite cologne. Finally, he slipped his feet into his nice warm brown dress shoes and did up the button on his suit.

He let out a sigh, admiring his outfit and fixing a lock of hair that had fallen into his face. The floor length mirror across from his bed lit him up perfectly. He looked sharp and professional, the kind of look that seeps confidence. He loved dressing the part of a millionaire athlete, there was no denying that. He shuffled around his room, picking up his essentials before throwing them all into their respective places in his pockets. He was ahead of schedule today and feeling a little bit more antsy to go. He pulled his front door shut and locked it before spinning on his heel towards the elevator.

The only thing he disliked about his his large apartment was the parking. He took the elevator down into the labyrinth of a parking garage his building had, low ceilings and mess everywhere. They had construction going on for the past two weeks or so, mildly inconveniencing him quite a few times. He would walk along the barrier of the construction to his waiting car every game day, trying not to let all of this piss him off. He pulled his phone out to pick a song, one earbud in, trying to keep his mind on the game ahead. Suddenly, he brushed the chicken wire fence that was up to close off a good 15 parking spots. He heard a rip and some pressure on his arm, right near his shoulder. His hand flew to his shoulder, almost trying to save it from what already happened.

“Shit!” He exclaimed to no one in particular. His fingertips were in contact with a decent sized rip right on the seam of his sleeve, a little hole showing the white shirt underneath.

He untangled himself from the chicken wire, not wanting to pull any more fabric, before jogging up to his car window to examine the tear. Luckily, it looked like just the seam was torn, so hopefully it was an easy fix. He didn’t want to go back upstairs and plan an entirely new outfit, so he just got in the car and left the stupid parking garage. He knew he would get an earful from the guys and probably a go-around meme post on Instagram about the visible rip, but at this point he just wanted to leave and get ready for the game.

The drive was maybe fifteen minutes without traffic, but usually ended up being closer to 30. He spent most of that time mentally preparing with soft music playing on a normal day, but this whole ordeal left him brooding with displeasure about nearly ruining one of his favorite suits. He was first at the light on one of the corners that he always passed on this route, when he noticed a shop he had never noticed before.

It was a little shop right next to a corner store, a chalkboard sign out front reading Suits! Dresses! Tailoring! He perked up a little at the sight of a tailor, the rip on his shoulder almost taunting him. He pulled off the road, right into a parallel spot on the cross street, getting out and almost running up to the door of this place. It really did look unassuming from the outside, but inside was really glorious. A bell chimed as he stepped inside and took it all in.

There were bolts of fabric stacked up taller than him, and designs of beautiful dresses and suits scattered around on mannequins, amazing colors and patterns on full display. There was a small counter and a desk, catalogues and thick design books littering both tables. He could hear a few people talking somewhere in the back, or rather one person shouting numbers and the other repeating them.

“Just a second!” A voice echoed from somewhere behind the bolts of fabric.

A woman appeared from a back room, a tape measure hanging around her neck snd and a notebook in her hands, scribbling down numbers on the page. She was short (even though pretty much everyone was short to Nikita) and very pretty. She wore a nice blouse and a mid length skirt, all topped off with a pair of nicer looking heels. It almost caught him off guard, like he was blindsided by meeting someone so pretty on a normal work day.

“How can I help you?” She asked, looking up, then up again to meet his eyes.

“Hi, umm, I know this is a weird ask but I am almost late for work, and I accidentally ripped the seam of my sleeve. Would you be able to fix it quickly? If not, totally fine, I’ll just be on my way.” He explained, turning to show her the tear in his shoulder.

“I can do that! Do you have maybe 10-15 minutes?” She asked, his eyes falling to his watch to check. He would turn out to be right on time.

“I think so.” He murmured, taking his phone out of the inside pocket and the jacket fully off.

She took the jacket, giving it a once over, then opened a tub of spooled thread sitting on one of the tables not too far from where he stood. He watched her pull out a tray of blues, holding them up to the blue of his jacket, then replacing them till she found an almost perfect match to the rich navy. She threaded a needle with lightning speed and flipped the jacket inside out to pull the seam together and pin it, deciding it would be the fastest to just stand at the desk and hold the massive jacket in her hands.

She could see how the sleeves accommodated large corded muscles in his arms, and how well done the work was. Whoever made this suit certainly did an excellent job and took his measurements down to the millimeter. She let herself look up at him briefly, his attention now on a deep purple suit displayed in the corner.

He was larger than life and had a confidence about him that was hard to ignore. His frame was perfectly accentuated with the cut of his suit pants and the button down he wore. His hair was perfectly cut and his sunglasses were perfect for his handsome face. The scar running through his lip down to his chin gave him a tough, no bullshit kind of look that only added to his confidence. He had a great taste in cologne, the spicy warm scent wafting through her senses from having his jacket. Even his accent was like a deep, rich honey being pouring from his lips. She pictured him as a hit man, or a spy, or some sort of agent. Something fantastic.

Once the stitching was done, she took the jacket over to one of the many massive mirrors on the wall and flipped it back, looking closely at the seam to make sure it was straight. Nikita walked up behind her and she offered up the jacket.

“Try that, hopefully the seam sits straight on your shoulder.” She remarked, watching him slip his big arm through the sleeves and button it back up.

He turned in the mirror, running a large finger over where the rip once was, now perfectly hidden by a straight seam. It was like nothing ever happened to it. He cracked a smile and turned back to the woman, yanking on the hem of the jacket to straighten himself out.

“That’s perfect. How much do I owe you?” He asked, pulling out his wallet.

“Oh don’t worry about it! It was just a quick stitch!” She exclaimed, holding her hand up in a stop gesture when he tried to hand over a fifty dollar note.

“Really, I insist. You’re saving me a lot of embarrassment with my… coworkers.” He said, circumventing the fact that his coworkers are in fact teammates on the most famous sports team in the area.

“Honestly, it’s no big deal. I’m just glad you let me work on this amazing suit. Your tailor is a magician!” She joked, and he just smiled.

“What was your name? I’ll be sure to recommend you for any fixing my coworkers need done on their suits.” He said, grabbing a business card from the desk.

“My name is Y/N, but the people who own this place are Rob and Krista. Any of us would be happy to help!” She exclaimed.

“Great. I’m Nikita. It’s nice to meet you, but I have to run. Thanks for everything!”

He turned on his heel to leave, sending a gentle wave her way before picking up the pace back to his car. When she turned around, the 50 dollar note was sitting on the desk, inconspicuously next to the pile of business cards he grabbed from. She let out a chuckle and let the fantastical daydreams of secret agent Nikita fill her mind up as she pocketed the note.

“Who was that Y/N?” Rob asked, emerging from the back holding the plans for a custom gown he was making.

“He just needed a seam stitched, no big deal.” She muttered, and he hummed at the far of gleam in her eye.

<><><><>

2 - the outing

Nikita scored two goals and got an assist that night. He was on top of the world and couldn’t come down. When the final horn sounded he found himself thinking of Y/N, and how the blue thread she used must have weaved some luck into him.

After his post game shower and doing media he found himself back at his locker, pulling his suit back on to return home. His button up was on, no jacket or tie, and he was almost done loosely tying his right shoe so he could finally leave. Quinn and Brock were close by, chatting with each other about the game.

“Fuckin rights Z, what a game!” Brock exclaimed, clapping a hand on his back, “What’s with you huh? Where’d all that goal scoring energy come from?”

“Just a good night I guess, nothing too crazy.” He responded, a little reluctant to share why he truly thought he was finding the back of the net.

He stood, quickly going back over to the sink to give himself a once over before finally leaving. Out of curiosity, he flipped the seam of his jacket into the light of the mirror in front of him, eventually finding a section of the seam that was a slightly different color with two tiny knots at each end. He smiled to himself and flipped it back, throwing it over his arm. Quinn and Brock watched, also curious why Nikita was all of a sudden examining his jacket. The looked at each other with a shrug, and let it go.

~ two weeks later ~

The universe had a funny way of treating Nikita sometimes. JT Miller gave him a call, basically begging him for a tailor recommendation. He said that ‘nothing was fitting well’ and that ‘you should know Nikita, I’ve never seen you wear a bad outfit!’. He was absolutely happy to give JT the information, and he told him that he had a suit he needed to get fixed anyway. He didn’t, but he wanted an excuse to go see Y/N and try to thank her in a hopefully normal sounding way for giving him good luck. They made a plan for their next day off in two days.

“Ah, perfect…” Nikita muttered to himself, digging out a beige jacket that he had made years ago, one that had a ripped inner pocket, buttons missing, and a weird seam wrinkle that wouldn’t go away. He had been digging around in his massive closet for close to an hour, trying to find something to bring to the tailor so it didn’t look like he was acting as the peanut gallery for JT, and now Elias as well, who weaseled his way into their trip because of similar reasons to JT.

A knock sounded at his door, Petey and JT both with their suits wrapped up in bags. They were dressed casually. Nikita offered to drive them all, making sure to avoid the chicken wire fence despite being in a black t-shirt and shorts. The drive was short and easy, but his heart beating with a flutter of excitement made it slightly harder to focus.

The bell chimed in the doorway when they entered, the sound of people talking in the back filling the men’s ears. JT and Petey had a similar reaction to the state of the store as he did the first time, both of their mouths falling open in surprise.

“Welcome in, gentleman. What can we help you with today?” An older man stepped up to the counter, a confident smile making his crow’s feet appear.

“Hi! I believe we talked on the phone a few days ago about some repairs the three of us need done? My name is JT.” He said, shaking the man’s hand earnestly.

“Ah yes! We would be happy to help! Let me go grab the other two.” He said, retreating to the back again.

This time, Rob, Krista, and Y/N all came up front. Y/N hadn’t been expecting secret agent Nikita to be standing there. He offered a gentle wave, and she offered one back as Rob began consulting JT while Petey introduced himself to Krista.

“Back with friends I see! How did the seam turn out for you?” Y/N inquired, coming up close to him.

“Very well. It’s holding up perfectly so far.” He answered, letting his hand fall on top of the jacket folded over his arm, “I actually have another one I could use your help with.” He said, offering up the beige jacket.

“No problem! We should be able to get them done in a day or two-“

“We can get these done today for you gentleman! You are more than welcome to hang around, it shouldn’t be too long.” Rob announced to everyone.

Y/N was a little surprised at this. Rob wasn’t usually the type to cut out time for walkins when his plate was stacked high with custom orders. Krista also seemed unbothered. She had been working on a dress that was due to the client in two days before they all came in, which normally took precedent over whatever little fixes came and went.

“Are you sure Rob? Mrs. Fueller’s dress needs to be done soon?” Y/N asked under her breath as they walked out of earshot.

“I will gladly finish suits for Vancouver Canucks players same day Y/N, it would be insulting to our great hockey town to not!” He exclaimed jovially.

It all clicked for her then, why Nikita was in a rush and dressed so well. Why him and his friends were also so athletic looking. Nikita also heard, eyes going wide as his cover crumbled right in front of him. He wanted just a few more moments of bliss without the fanfare, selfishly. He offered a sheepish smile to her when she looked back at him, feeling a little caught despite not really doing anything wrong.

She retreated to get her kits, still holding onto the jacket. This one smelled faintly of that warm spicy scent she loved last time. This one would be a relatively quick fix like the last one. She took the space at the front desk so Rob and Krista could have the work spaces in the back. They called Petey and JT into the back work space, leaving Nikita to wander.

As she came back up front, she found Nikita in front of a dark green suit, pulling at the sleeve and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He noticed her sit and turn the lamp on, laying his suit out on the smooth surface. He made his way back over to her, not resisting his urge to talk to her. His presence was strong and steady as he watched her rip the thread from the buttons left on the suit.

“I’m starting to think you’re clumsy, Mr. Canuck. Two suit coats in two weeks?” She joked, and he took a seat in the leather chair placed in front of the desk.

“I try not to be. I just like to be on my game with my suits y’know?” He answered, letting a twinge of guilt rip through him for not being totally honest about who he really was, “I’m sorry I wasn’t up front about who I was at first.”

“It’s ok, I understand. I’m sure you have people stopping you at every corner.” She answered as she pulled buttons out of their little plastic case.

“Not much of a hockey fan?” He asked.

“I grew up New Mexico, so there wasn’t much hockey around. Once I moved here I never totally caught on. But I like it when I see it! I know you guys have played well this season!” She explained.

He hummed in approval, “you should come see a game. It’s a lot of fun to see it live. I’ll even score a goal for you.” He joked, and she laughed along with him.

“Maybe I will.” She agreed, now moving on the inner pocket.

They continued to talk, just sharing about themselves and other light topics. He was absolutely endeared by her, her quick wit and personality shining through as they continued along. He learned that she moved to Vancouver for college and never left. This job was essentially dumped in her lap and it was too enjoyable to abandon. She could execute her favorite designs and get paid a decent wage.

Nikita’s coat was all wrapped up with all repairs made flawlessly, his old suit jacket returned to rights. He took it back, slipping a 100 dollar note into her kit when she tried to refuse him again. Now it was a waiting game for his teammates. He could see Petey with a tape measure in his armpit and JT looking through a few bolts of gray fabric; he guessed it would be a little while before they wrapped up. He perused the mannequins, taking note of the beautiful craftsmanship. He stopped at the double breasted dark green suit again, taking a good long look at it.

“I designed that one, y’know.” Y/N piped up, suddenly very close to him, making him want to reach out and touch her. He had a foot on her at least, her head reaching just above his sternum he guessed. He could smell the faint scent of sickly sweet flowers coming off of her, and instantly thought he would never smell anything better ever again.

“Really? It’s very impressive, something I would wear in a heartbeat…” he admired, then a lightbulb went off in his head, “I’m actually interested in buying some new suits, would you be willing to do them for me?” He asked.

“Absolutely Nikita. What kind of look do you like?” She responded, immediately interested.

“the style you saw on me the first day mostly. I think I want some color or something to give it a bit extra though.” He pondered, Y/N immediately beginning to swirl with ideas.

“Tell you what, I’ll set up an appointment with you and we can discuss it.” She offered, and he turned to her with a smile, “we can look through some catalogs and pick out some cool options.”

“Hmm, I would gladly take an appointment, but I don’t want a catalogue suit, I want what you think looks best,” He said confidently, “if you are ok with it, I would like to give you my number so if you see a pattern or inspiration you can tell me.”

Y/N’s heart dropped into her stomach, never to come out again. It was very, very rare that someone wanted anything other than an average suit, especially someone that seemed to be built for a nice suit like he was. Her mind lit up with a constellation of ideas.

“I-I would be honored.” She said, a little too stunned to say much else.

He smiled, making his way back to the desk for a business card and a stray blue pen. He jotted down his information on the back, handing it to her. She pocketed it, shoving it deep so there was no chance it fell out. JT and Petey made their way up front, now holding their suits plus some papers and fabric squares.

“All set Z?” Petey asked, and he nodded to the two men.

“We hope to see you all soon! Enjoy those jackets!” Rob said, waving as they made their way out the door, the little bell sounding as they exited the store

~*~

Rob and Krista returned to work on Mrs. Fueller’s dress, talking amongst themselves about how ‘nice those young men had been’ and how ‘you don’t see down to earth athletes like that anymore’. Y/N sat down at the desk gathering all of her supplies back into the kits. She smiled to herself at the 100 dollar note Nikita had left for her, making a mental note to scold him when she saw him next time.

There was a next time.

She fished the business card out of her pocket turning it over to reveal his neat, square handwriting.

Y/N,

Don’t share this with anyone! Hope to hear from you soon.

-Nikita Zadorov

XXX-XXX-XXX

She quickly put the number in her phone and saved it under secret agent Nikita before sending him a text.

Hi Nikita, it’s Y/N. Let me look at my schedule and we can put something on the books. I already have some ideas!

Not even ten minutes went by before a text buzzed from him

Sounds great. We leave for a week and a half tomorrow, but I should be available once we get back to Vancouver. Thanks for all of your help!

She sent off a thumbs up and a thank you before cleaning up her space to finish the last details on Mrs. Fueller’s dress. She imagined beautiful rich fabric and how it could lay on Nikita’s build, where to accentuate and where to bring in. There were seemingly endless options.

She couldn’t wait

<><><><>

3 - the fitting

During the week and a half the Canucks were on the road, Nikita found himself a little absorbed in talking to Y/N. They scheduled for a few days after the Canucks returned to Vancouver, and he couldn’t stop the flutter of excitement he felt when he thought about seeing Y/N again.

She started to send him photos of chic magazines, ones that had borderline eccentric suits, which she promised she would dial back but she ‘saw lots of potential’ in them. She sent him pictures of bolts of fabric, which he eventually just FaceTimed her to see. She was in the middle of a massive fabric store, dressed in a hoodie from what he could tell, which for some reason was endearing to him.

Y/N was very surprised by the FaceTime, but picked up anyway after the second ring, as it would give her an opportunity to hear his honey laden accent. He looked to be in a hotel gym, lightly huffing and trying to dry his damp forehead off with a towel. His hair was undone and falling in his face, and he was close enough to the camera that she could see the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. A domestic thought of doing this all the time flashed through her mind before she stamped it out.

“What do you think of doing something in this?” She asked, flipping the camera to show off a beautiful deep green.

“I like that a lot, I have a couple of green suits so maybe red? Or purple?” He inquired.

“Now we’re talking. I’ll get back to you ok? I’ll find the best red and purple I can.” She promised, which made him smile.

“I’m holding you to it.” He said, then a faint ���come on Z food’s here’ sounded of in the background, “I have to go, but we’ll talk soon!”

“Ok Z, have a good night! Good luck for the game!” She said

He sent a wink into the camera, “will do Y/N.” Then ended the call.

Y/N couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach as she played that wink over and over again. He was just so nice and confident (not to mention handsome), all while trusting her to deliver something great. She perused the bolts some more, finding a luxurious maroon and a dark purple that looked almost black. She bought them both and returned to the shop to place them in the pile that was forming for Nikita’s appointment.

They kept texting. Not even about suits or fabric or accessories, just casual conversation. He would text her before games, after games, late at night when he should have been sleeping. He imagined her cuddled up on the couch in a soft t-shirt with snacks and a movie on, or at the shop with her cute heels on and hair all styled, answering his texts with a smile and a giggle when he said something funny. They didn’t really talk about hockey either, outside of an occasional question about the rules or a funny story from Russia, which was refreshing for him.

Y/N had done her own digging (for research purposes of course) and fallen into a hole of stalking his socials. She had watched a heavy hit compilation of him on YouTube, and couldn’t believe that the one she met and the one knocking people into the next year were the same person. She watched one of his away games, against the Seattle Kraken, finding herself invested in the play going on and feeling that twinge of excitement when the camera found Nikita every once in a while.

It was days and days of sweet conversation and thinking about each other when they weren’t talking. Multiple teammates of Nikita’s were giving him shit for always being on the phone, but he felt like he couldn’t help it. It lit him up inside to see Y/N’s contact flash across the screen. She was so witty and kind, not to mention beautiful. She even began to cross his mind when he was alone in the hotel room.

The day finally came. His appointment was at noon, so he prepared a little early and stopped for coffee, also grabbing Y/N’s order as a little surprise. He felt like he needed to show his appreciation for the wonderful couple of weeks he had. The familiar bell chime went off as he opened the shop door, this time no bickering voices, just faint music coming from the back. Y/N walked up front to meet him, cracking the smile she had been waiting to crack since he asked her what her favorite color was over a week and a half ago. He handed her the coffee he was holding and offered a friendly side hug.

“Oh! You really didn’t have to, but thank you! Always full of surprises.” She remarked, setting down the coffee.

“Hey, what can I say. We’re gonna need all the caffeine we can get.” He said, then looked around to find no Rob or Krista, “where is everyone?”

“Rob and Krista decided to take a vacation in Italy, they’re gone for another week, so you’re stuck with me by myself I’m afraid.” She explained, grabbing a book from the corner to set out.

He perked up a little unintentionally at that news. The thought of the two of them together like this felt eerily similar to just, hanging out, and not an actual business deal being done by two professionals. He had been waiting for the appointment like it was a scheduled hang out for fucks sake.

“So first I’m thinking we get your measurements, then talk about what you want to see, and see where it takes us?” She offered, and he nodded, “great, if you don’t mind coming over here under the light so I can see you.”

He was dressed in a t shirt and shorts again, hopefully something that would make it easy for her to get good numbers. She had a little lawyer pad and a pencil, along with a tape measure ready to use in the other hand.

“Just stand normally and relax, I’m gonna work from the bottom up.” She noted and Nikita relaxed his stance.

She began, quickly pulling the tape measure around his ankles, jotting down numbers then moving up. She measured his calves, then knees, then thighs at their thickest, then the outside seam from hip to ankle. Nikita was trying to focus on anything but her touching him, literally anything but her skilled fingers pulling the tape measure taught around him. She finally measured his inseam, going from his groin to the inside of his ankle, then the other side, all before popping up and writing the last numbers down.

He was so, so still. He felt like if he moved he would shatter like glass under her touch. He was barely breathing. She moved to his hips, then waist, then from his armpit to hip. She wrapped the tape measure around his chest, the metal tag hitting him dead center, and she took the number. He wondered if she could feel his heart rattling his rib cage under her hand.

She pulled a block out from the corner to stand on, giving Nikita a moment to breathe and relax. She started on his arms, taking his wrists, biceps, and shoulder width, then from shoulder to wrist. Finally, she wrapped the tape measure around his neck. His pulse quickened at her closeness, and all he could think about was her breath fanning over his collarbone while she leaned in to read the number.

“Ok… that’s the last number…” she murmured, letting the tape measure fall loose around his neck, “wanna sit down to talk about what you’re thinking design wise?”

“Y-yeah, let’s do that.” He said, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

She directed him to the seat around the front of the desk. She grabbed her pre-cut fabric squares in maroon, dark purple, and a sage green with silver detailing woven in. She grabbed her organizer of buttons and other accessories, and the magazines she had compiled since they began texting. She had tabs sticking out of each one, the magazines resembling annotated homework more than catalogs. She stuck them all on the desk, then sat.

He leaned back to accommodate his size in the seemingly too small chair, his knees bent up at a slight angle and his arms resting beside him. To a passerby it might look like an interrogation if they didn’t know any better. It was like he took up as much space physically as he did mentally for her.

“So, I showed you the fabrics I liked best over our call, but I wanted you to feel them and decide for yourself if you like them.” She started, handing him the fabric squares that he pinched between his fingers, one by one.

“The purple and the maroon are great, and I like that you went for a lighter green. I think three suits is a good amount for now, so let’s stick with these.” He explained.

“I thought the same, so we’ll go with those.” She set aside three piles, with one fabric square per pile, “I love to see double breasted suits, and they look great on you, so I was thinking about making the purple fabric double breasted with these buttons.” She pulled out gold buttons that were adorned with little flowers, very much like an old wax seal, “they’re vintage, and I think they fit the style nicely.”

He nodded, and let her take them back to set in their own pile with the purple fabric square.

“I think since the maroon is a little more adventurous we could try a strap closure in the front, it’s one of the more chic styles coming out of fashion recently.” She explained further, flipping to a saved page in one of the magazines where the model had a suit that was closed with a slim gold buckle and a strap across the waist. He had never considered something like that before, but he could see Y/N’s vision coming to life, so he agreed.

“And for the green I think a couple of buttons and a nice fit will do the fabric plenty of justice.” She said, holding up the green fabric square.

“This is all perfect Y/N.” He said, looking over the three piles in front of them, “what can I expect in terms of time?”

“I have one quick project before you, but I would say around a month for everything? Rob and Krista gave me permission to take on just your project after my other project is done.” She said, taking a glance at the calendar on her desk.

“That’s perfect for me, don’t rush on my account, I’m a very patient man.” He said with a sly smile, and she just laughed, the clearest most lovely laugh he could have imagined.

“We’ll plan on it then.” She whispered, seconds going by before she looked away from his eyes.

They both stood, Nikita reaching out to shake her hand once she came around the desk within arms reach of him. He pulled her in for a brief hug, as if to say ‘we’re past all the pleasantries’. Something was shifting in the air, between them.

“Um, I really wanted to thank you, for the trust. This project is a big deal for me.” She murmured.

“It’s an honor for me to own such a brilliant collection.” He assured, letting her go after one final pat on the shoulder, “I can’t wait for a month from now.”

“I can’t either.”

<><><><>

+1 - the gifting

Right on schedule, Y/N had all three pieces done in a month. She stayed up late and got up early quite a few times simply because she was inspired to finish. Everything, down to the very last stitch, was perfect. She thought of making replicas to save for a future fashion magazine.

Nikita and Y/N continued to talk, a lot. He found himself texting her anytime he thought something was funny, or interesting, or really any sort of thing that he thought she would like. When he was home, he would drop coffee off to her, and she would try to hide his suits from his curious eye. Each time he did, it would end with a hug and a promise to talk soon.

She ended up calling him one afternoon extremely frustrated. Her dishwasher started to make a funny noise and her landlord wouldn’t pick up, and he happily came over to help her, fixing it in a mere hour. They spent the whole evening tucked in a private corner of her favorite restaurant, her treat, as a thank you.

One night, on a rare off day on the road, she picked up another FaceTime call from him, and they talked into the early hours. He wanted to hear her voice all he could, and play her pretty laugh on repeat. They waded a little deeper beyond light banter, and they both shared personal things, and tried to be encouraging. Nikita admitted that NHL life could be lonely without anyone to share it with, especially since his ex moved on, but he was trying his best to enjoy every minute with his teammates. Y/N hoped she could give him a little peace in that way; be an avenue for him to take when the nights got a little too lonely. When they signed off, Nikita found himself biting back an ‘I miss you’.

He was on a road trip for a couple of days after his suits being finished, so they planned on meeting up at the shop on his next off day, which happened to be the day after the Canucks returned from a very successful 3-0 road trip.

Y/N had secretly been watching his games from the privacy of her apartment, cheering on the Canucks of course, but especially Nikita. She watched all of his media availability, and laughed at all of his witty replies. He was witty with her too, but from a different place. She knew he wasn’t trying to be smart with her, he just wanted her to laugh.

She had been waiting so long to see him, and today was finally the day.

She got up late morning, the sun already decently high. She decided this day was a hair down kind of day, so she brushed and lightly curled the ends. She threw on her favorite green dress with built in cups, and a black cardigan over the top, pairing everything with black heels. She threw on a light dusting of makeup and some perfume to finish everything off.

She made her way into the shop, not noticing the dark clouds rolling in behind her as she pulled each suit off the rack and placed them in very nice suit bags. The plan was to meet Nikita at 4pm, then get dinner after. When she turned back towards the front of the store, the sky was much darker and big raindrops were gliding down the windows. The storm got heavy very quickly, the wind whipping sheets of rain into the side of the building. Normally Y/N would find this kind of weather relaxing, something that would warrant comfy clothes and a cup of tea, but she had Nikita to wait for, and the more it rained the more she got worried about her plans for the day.

She was suddenly bathed in darkness as the power flickered and shut off completely. The light coming from outside was dim at best, and the rain only seemed to pelt the glass harder. She felt her heart sink. There was no way she could work on anything, let alone meet Nikita and give him his suits.

Right on cue, special agent Nikita flashed across her phone. She picked it up and tried to smooth over her frustrated tone. Despite being frustrated, she was tremendously relieved.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Nikita asked, hearing the rain in the background.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’ll be ok, I just have to be careful getting home and we can reschedule, ok?” She asked, the defeat weighing down her last few words. She thought of her shit box sedan, probably floating down the flooded street by now.

“What’s happening over there?” He inquired, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Uh, the power’s out and the street is flooded out front, I’m not going to make you come over here Nikita.” She argued, “the roads are dangerous as it is.”

“Im coming to get you, just relax and I’ll be there soon.” He said, the determination in his voice rocking her a little bit.

“It’s really not safe right now! Don’t worry about me I’ll just wait it out.” She tried to reason, but she was cut off with a ‘no, no, no, stop.”.

“I’m not letting you sit there in the dark Y/N, I have an SUV I’ll be fine. Just sit tight and I’ll be there soon.” He pushed, and quickly hung up so she couldn’t try to deter him any more.

Not even fifteen minutes later, a black SUV swung up into the spot right in front of the door, Nikita running to the door with his arm up over his eyes. He threw the door open and pulled it closed, water gathering on the floor in front of him.

“You ok?” He asked.

“Yeah I’m good, it’s just dark.” She laughed, gesturing to the flashlight on her phone illuminating them.

“Good, let’s get the suits and get out of here.” He said, stepping back to the door to wait for her.

She first slung her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her keys from the desk. Then she grabbed all three garment bags, tucking them into her cardigan before folding it over her body like a disgruntled teacher. He pushed the door open as soon as she was by his side, fighting the wind and big drops. He stuck his arm out, using his big body to try and shield her as much as he could. He hit the hatch button on his key fob and she ran as quickly as her heels would allow on the flooded sidewalk, laying the bags down flat in his trunk before hitting the button to close them in safely. She made the quick shuffle to the passenger seat, shutting the door with an aggressive thud.

Nikita and Y/N both let out a breath. She hoped they would both make it out without getting too wet, but it was no use. She was soaked, her nicely curled hair now a damp mess, her cardigan and dress soaked on top. Nikita’s sweatshirt and hair were also soaked, him taking the hem of his sweatshirt to wipe his dripping forehead.

“So I was thinking we could go to my place, but if not I’ll take you home..?” He suggested, and she nodded after a beat.

“We can go to yours, I want to show you the suits.” She said, and he pulled out of the parking spot with a nod.

The road was absolutely drenched, so the drive home was slower, but nothing his SUV couldn’t handle. Nikita wordlessly turned on her heated seat, hoping to combat the shivers she developed as the minutes ticked on. He felt really bad about her getting rained on, but he couldn’t in good conscience leave her to drive home that shit box sedan or sit in the dark studio all day till the rain stopped. He was so relieved when the entrance to his building’s parking garage came into view. He parked in his spot, getting out first and grabbing the garment bags out of the back. Y/N brushed her wet hair out of her face in the mirror before opening her door and hopping out.

They made their way inside the elevator, side by side, until it arrived at his floor. He opened the door and let her in first, extending his hand in a come in motion. His apartment was nothing short of amazing. The space was large and open with a beautiful kitchen, plus large windows that overlooked Vancouver. The room was decorated exactly how she pictured, lots of sleek neutrals and modern details. He had a massive sectional sofa, with a huge tv and an electronic fireplace right underneath. He had a sliding glass door that lead out to a lovely balcony that housed a couple of plants and Adirondack chairs.

They could see the rain still coming down hard against the glass, with no signs of stopping any time soon. Across from the open living space was a large hallway that she assumed led to his bedrooms and bathrooms and any other extra space he had.

Y/N bent and grabbed a hold of one heel, sliding it off, then the other, then tucked them into the mat where a lot of his shoes sat near the door. Her heels were covered in water stains and grime from the dirty sidewalk, so she figured it would be better to leave them there for now. Nikita set the garment bags over the arm of his massive cushy sofa sectional before he meandered into the kitchen, pulling out two mugs and setting some water to boil. Without heels on, she fell right below his sternum, and it was now even more glaringly obvious how wide their size difference was.

“What kind of tea do you like Y/N? I have mint, camomile, and some sort of spicy-orangey one.” He asked from around the corner.

“Spicy orangey sounds good.” She joked, finally walking into the kitchen where he was pulling a little box out of one of the higher cabinets, “I never took you as a hot tea kind of guy.”

“I like it sometimes. Nathan MacKinnon said I should try it when I can’t sleep before taking melatonin, and he was kind of right.” He laughed at the memory, “the Dogg is always right when it comes to what you eat and drink.”

“Hey, if it works it works.” She remarked as he handed her a perfectly warm mug of tea.

They sat quietly for a minute, letting the warm liquid warm them up a little further. The sound of the rain outside was much more soothing in the comfort of his apartment. Y/N hadn’t realized how deep the chill had gotten from her still too wet cardigan and hair. He looked at her for a moment, realizing she was still shivering a little and damp. Once both of their teas were done, he grabbed the mugs and turned them in the sink.

“You should take that cardigan off, you’re going to catch a cold,” he said matter of factly, “I’m sure I have something you can wear if you want.”

She shrugged it off, and Nikita took a hold of it and turned on the electronic fireplace, putting it next to the slowly building warmth. He turned to the garment bags, and picked them up carefully, nodding his head towards the hallway.

“My closet’s down here, I want to see in the mirror.” He said.

At the end of the hallway was his room, decorated similarly to the rest of his living space. The bed was underneath the window on the opposite side of the door, a nice long ottoman chest sitting at the foot of his bed, the kind that had a cushioned top to sit on like a bench. Across from the bed was an absolutely massive ceiling to floor mirror that was backlit with soft white light, making it easy to see. There was a connecting door to the bathroom, and another door that seemed to be a walk in closet, absolutely filled to the brim with suits. Her jaw fell to the floor at the sight of all of this tailoring genius in front of her, and they were about to add three more to his amazing collection. She continued to look around while he slipped into the closet.

“What do you want to see first Y/N?” He asked, separating out the bags and hanging them on the closet door. He had thrown on a nice white button down and a black tie on, just to make sure he was doing the suits true justice. He kept his shorts on, creating a very interesting sight

“Hmm, the green one?” She asked, and he nodded, turning on his heel to take the green suit into the bathroom.

She took a seat on the ottoman chest, waiting patiently for him. He returned, pulling on the sleeves and adjusting the jacket on his frame. The green complimented him so well, and the cut hit him in the perfect spot on his hips to make him look muscular and fitted. The pants perfectly accentuated his thick thighs. He turned to the massive mirror, taking a quick once over before turning back to Y/N, who’s jaw was on the floor again.

“I don’t think that could fit you any better.” She said, and he laughed.

“Well, you took the measurements, I knew it was going to be perfect.” He responded, “ok, what next?”

“Do the purple one, the last one is going to surprise you.” She said, and he obliged, of course.

After another few minutes in the bathroom, he re-emerged, the velvety purple showing up almost black with the gorgeous vintage gold buttons holding it all together. The suit, again, was cut perfectly, showing off his physique. He turned, looking at the fit and the buttons, all before turning to Y/N once again.

“I think you were made for the double breasted suit.” She admitted, and he gave her a wide smile and a dorky little spin.

“I love the color, it’s so deep.” He said, again turning to go back to the bathroom with the maroon suit in hand.

Now this one, she wasn’t entirely sure about how he was going to feel. The buckled closure was new for his wardrobe, but she had faith that he would embrace it. While he was in the bathroom, she stood from her spot and looked inside his closet, wanting to grasp the full picture of his collection. His closet felt like it continued on for miles. She heard the door open, and turned to see Nikita messing with the closure.

“Can you help me close it?” He asked, and she took a moment to look at him.

The maroon of the suit was perfect for his skin tone, and the fit, again, looked perfect. the clasp that closed the jacket was a delicate gold, something that would fit with his usual accessories. The fabric tie that he would attach to the buckle seemed to be jammed a little, very easy to fix. She grabbed the tie, pulling it gently so it would slide out again, and grabbed the buckle with her other hand, slowly snaking the piece in and looping the pieces together.

Nikita’s brain shut off. She was so close to him, smelling like rain and sickly sweet flowers, with her hair now falling in messy locks from being wet. Flashes of every moment they spent together, through the phone or not, spun through his mind. He thought about the dinner they had, and how pretty she looked, and how hard they laughed. In this moment she looked beyond beautiful in her dress, the freckles on her shoulders standing out. His arms were at his side but he so desperately wanted to reach up and touch her.

So he did.

He ghosted his hands over her bare arms, up her shoulders, and placed them on the sides of her neck. She looked up at him, her gaze finding his. She didn’t look apprehensive at all, in fact there was a glimmer in her eye that he had never seen before.

“What?” She murmured, keeping their eyes locked.

His thumb grazed her jaw, keeping a slow, feathery pace, “nothing, I just wish this would happen every day.”

“Trying on new suits?” She wondered, even though she knew that wasn’t it.

He leaned down, almost to her lips, “No, having you here to help me.” He murmured, “I want you here all the time. I’ve dreamed of having you here with me.”

That was all she needed. She met him the rest of the way, standing on her tiptoes to reach his lips. Their kiss was all consuming, encapsulating every feeling they both felt over the last few months, but were never able to say. He felt so soft against her, his hands remaining on her neck while hers slid around his waist. She pulled back, Nikita chasing her lips as she broke away. She looked at him for a minute with a soft, twinkling look on her face, Nikita deciding he never wanted to see her look any other way.

“C’mere.” He said, pulling her back in.

He kissed her deeper, his tongue dancing over her bottom lip so she would open up. She did, willingly, the both of them melting into each other’s embrace. One hand snaked back into her hair, the other sliding down and across her back. Her hands crawled up his arms, holding onto the soft fabric of his suit jacket.

He tightened his hold on her hair, kissing across her cheek and down her pretty neck. She let out a soft moan, her lips sitting on the shell of his ear. He wanted to bottle up that sound and keep it forever.

As he mouthed at her collarbone, he took a step, then another, till they were standing in front of his ottoman chest, the mirror right across from them. He sat down, finding her lips again. He reached up and pulled on the knot in his tie just a little loose, giving him more room to move. Their kiss was growing hungrier, his need to feel her growing stronger with every move. Her hands found his hair, fingers carding through his soft locks.

He grabbed at her waist, pulling her flush with him between his thick thighs. She began trailing kisses down his neck, or what she could reach with his stiff collar in the way. He opened his eyes, just for a moment, and watched her squirm under his touch in the mirror. He could see his own pupils darken at the thought of watching her.

“Nikita..” she groaned, “please.”

“What is it baby?” He asked, letting his hands wander to the sides of her breasts.

“I, I just want you.” She said, placing a desperate kiss on the corner of his mouth, “can we go to bed?” Grabbing his hands to pull him up.

“No, wait,” he said, using the hand that she was holding to turn her around, “right here.”

Y/N and Nikita looked like a work of art together in that mirror. Her hair was tousled and messy, falling down to one side while he kissed and sucked at her shoulder, moving the thin strap of her dress down her arm with one hand and caressing her head with the other. The maroon of his suit and her green dress accented the other perfectly. She could see her nipples beginning to pebble under the built in cups of her dress, making her look beyond sultry in his arms. The most striking piece was how much bigger he was than her.

He moved his hands again, bringing them to her waist, then the sides of her breasts, then over them on top of the dress. He gave them a gentle squeeze, working a moan out of her throat. He kneaded her softly, then reached into the soft fabric, pulling her tits out over the top of the dress. He rolled her nipples in his fingers, making her shudder and arch in his grip.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he murmured in her ear, watching her eyelids squeeze shut at all of the sensations, “I thought about you like this, all sweet and pliant under my touch.”

“Shit, N-Nikita.” She panted, coming down to fully sit in his lap and grasp at his arms. She could feel his bulge growing in his nice new suit pants, and whimpered at the feeling.

“Do you like that? When I touch you like that?” He egged on, wanting to hear her say it.

“Ah.. yes, yes I love it.” She sighed out.

He shifted one arm over to play with her nipples and hold her up while his other hand reached for the hem of her dress, slowly pulling it up till he could see her panties. He almost died at the sight. He could see how spun up she had gotten just from kissing and touching her.

“Shit, look at you.” He said, cupping her pussy with his massive hand, “all wet from a few touches.”

“Only for you.” she admitted, letting him take control of the whole situation. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and gazed at the ceiling.

He reached into her panties, letting his fingers graze over her wet lips, before slowly pulling her panties down and off. He grabbed her by the waist and shifted her back so she was fully seated, throwing her legs over the outsides of his. She was fully exposed to the mirror, and all of his ministrations were on display. He ran two fingers through her wetness before sinking them into her pussy, agonizingly slow. He began to make a come here motion, letting his thumb circle her clit. The sound of her arousal filled the room, and she couldn’t help the moans that tumbled out of her mouth as Nikita dragged his fingers over her sensitive walls.

She worked her hand into his hair behind her, the other coming to cover his as he worked on her. He placed kisses on her temple and neck as he slowly worked more sounds out of her, her movement working him up underneath his suit pants. Every sigh and gasp in his ear, every time her grip tightened on his hair, every grind of her hips against him, was heaven. Every inch of her was perfect for him, and he got to watch it all unravel right in front of him.

“God I’m s-so close, please!” She gasped, her pussy tightening around him.

“Go ahead baby, take what you need.” He encouraged, “cum all over my fingers.”

His words were like magic. She came all around him, her legs clamping down around his and her fingers tightening in his hair. He kept gently moving his fingers inside her, the waves of delicious pleasure washing over her. His eyes never dropped from the mirror.

Once her orgasm ebbed, she grabbed his wrist and moved his hand away from her oversensitive bundle. He brought his soaking fingers to his mouth, sucking her juices off of his fingers with an ‘mmm’. She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, letting herself catch her breath while she tasted her essence on him.

She was very, very aware of his hard dick pressing against her; with every shift he would groan. His hands found her waist again, gently lifting her out of her seat so there was enough room for him to unzip his pants and bring them down just enough for his cock to spring free. She started to turn and sink down on her knees but he stopped her, pulling her back up.

“Maybe later, I wanna be inside you.” He stated bluntly.

“What about your suit?” She asked, running her hands along the fabric, “you haven’t even worn it out yet.”

“I’ll take it to the dry cleaners if we make that much of a mess. All I’m worried about is you.” He said giving her hand a kiss. “Where do you want to be baby?”

“Right here, I liked how we were.” She admitted, climbing back onto his lap with her legs bent on either side of him, facing the mirror.

She was spread open and on display for them again, this time his cock was painfully hard resting against her back. He took her hips in his hand, pulling her up while she grabbed a hold of him, giving him a couple of pumps before lining him up with her. She took it slow, settling down inch by inch. She sank down till she was fully seated in his lap, being practically split open. She moaned out a breath, giving them both a moment to adjust to the feeling.

For Nikita, it felt like coming home. She was so tight and warm and all enveloping. He wanted to stay that way forever, close to her with the perfect view. He let a hand ghost over her stomach, a touch that ended up feeling comforting to her.

“You ok?” He asked in her ear, laying a kiss on it.

“Y-yeah, you’re just really big.” She admitted, making him chuckle. “Feels so good..”

“Good, baby.” He reassured.

After another moment, she pulled up, then sat back down, starting a deep slow pace. She put her head back on his shoulder, letting pretty moans tumble out just like before. Nikita’s hands were everywhere, her stomach, thighs, tits, waist, all of her. Every nerve in his body was on fire. He looked at the scene before him in the mirror, watching himself disappear into her tight heat. He had never seen something so hot, it was a miracle he was even able to utter a word in English.

“Fuck, baby, look how pretty you are.” He whispered, bringing his hand into her hair again, “watch with me.”

She looked up, as mesmerized by the two of them as he was, “s-shit, you’re taking me so well, baby. Keep fucking me like that.” He mumbled, watching her bite down on her lip.

She watched him slide into her, feeling him deep inside while she took him at her own pace. She watched her tits bounce as his hands came up to meet them, rubbing her nipples to add some more sensation. Her thighs began to burn and her legs were shaking, both from the stimulation and the effort. She was trying her best to keep pace, but she was losing rhythm.

“Nikita.. please.” She asked, grabbing his hands and sliding them down to her hips, where he squeezed.

“Oh, do you want some help baby?” He whispered, earning a nod from her, “that’s ok baby, relax and I’ll help.”

He began lifting her and setting her back down, keeping his hands firmly planted on her hips as he guided her body. He set a slightly faster pace, one that would keep winding them up without hurting her. Their moans were getting louder and higher, and he could feel her pussy squeezing around him.

“Oh fuck Nikita I’m so close! Keep going!” She moaned out, one hand coming to play with her puffy clit.

“That’s it baby, feel good for me, cum all over me”. He rambled, his breath growing ragged as he felt his orgasm approaching, “I wanna see you come all over my cock, make a mess.”

The last few strokes with her pussy basically holding him in a vice pushed him over the edge; he came deep inside her with a loud moan. the feeling of him unraveling sent her into her very own. Her orgasm practically ignited her whole body, her vision exploding with stars. He kept the pace up, even if she wasn’t using any strength anymore. The waves kept crashing over her, high pitched whimpers escaping her. She kept rubbing her clit, teetering on the edge of overstimulated until Nikita set her down on his cock, letting her hips go. He ghosted his hand over her waist again, laying little comforting kisses on all of the skin he could reach. The comedown was slow, like floating feathers in the air. The only sounds left were their breathing and the gentle pattering of the rain outside. The sun had set not too long ago, so the room was dark except for the halo lights around his mirror.

“Fuck baby, that was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He painted, “…you ok?”

“..yeah, t-that was amazing.” She said, turning her head to capture his lips in a soft, tired kiss.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” He asked, and she shook her head no, but not before nikita’s eyebrows rose in realization, “shit, we didn’t use protection-“

“It’s ok Nikita, I’m on birth control and I’m clean, I trust you…” she said, and a small shift in their position made her wince. Her hips and thighs were beginning to ache with soreness from the open position, “as much as I like feeling full, I really need to move.”

“Of course, let me help.” He obliged, grabbing her hips one more time, sliding her off his cock so she was able to close her legs in front of him, “what would you say to a quick shower, then relaxing in bed?”

“Mm, I could be persuaded.” She giggled, letting him finally stand up.

His lap was a wet, creamy mess of both of them, but it wasn’t so bad that he would be shunned from every dry cleaner in Vancouver. He would just wash off the incriminating stuff and wet his new suit pants a little and say he accidentally dropped them during the rain storm. They both made their way to the massive bathroom, pulling off their clothes. The shower they took was strangely the most wholesome part of the night, both of them taking turns washing each other while they had soft conversation. They gave each other sweet kisses, and laughed at the couple of hickeys that adorned the both of them.

Nikita shut off the water and reached for his fluffiest towel, wrapping it around her with a kiss on her nose. They dried off, him finding a stretched out old shirt for her to wear for the rest of the evening, while he picked new boxers and an old tee as well. He picked up her panties and handed them to her, then leaned up over the bed to crack the window, the soft sound of rain and the cool breeze wafting through. He reached down bringing his comforter and sheets down the bed and sprawled out on top. She joined him on the other side. She snuggled up to his chest and he began tracing soft patterns on her back, his other hand falling to the ditch of her knee as she crossed her leg over his lap. A loud growl erupted from his stomach, and they both laughed. They accidentally skipped dinner all together.

“You wore me out, you minx.” He joked, earning a slap to the chest, “want to order in?”

“Sounds delicious!” She exclaimed, Nikita fishing for his phone on the table beside him, “hey, Nikita?”

“Yes baby?” He responded, looking away from the online menu to her.

“Thank you, for being so amazing,” she muttered, “for being there for me and taking care of me, I guess.”

“Oh, baby,” he said, leaning down for a chaste kiss, “you’re the amazing one, I’ve been dying to ask you out since you fixed the seam on my jacket,”

“Really? That long huh?” She teased, and he laughed along with her.

“As long as it took to make you mine.” He admitted, her heart fluttering at his words.

“Does that mean you’re officially asking me out Mr. Zadorov?” She giggled, making his cheeks turn red with blush.

“And if I was, would you say yes?” He whispered.

“One hundred times over.”

<><><><>

[rowdyluv]

Power Outage

Request: yes / no

Summary: a snow storm blows through Vancouver knocking out the power in your’s and Nikita’s shared home. A previous time before left a situation to be settled.

Warnings: use of y/n, pet name usage, (sunshine), friends w feelings, angst?, cursing like once, unedited (I had to rewrite this THREE times. I’ll edit eventually)

Word Count: 1.82k

It had been snowing all day and way into the evening. The sun was already setting over the house across the street making a pretty orange and pink sunset. The view of the snow outside from the front bay window looks just as beautiful as the sunset. The street lamps were already on and casting a soft glow over the solid white blanket on the front lawn. Your roommate, who is also your best friend, is supposed to be getting home any moment now. Nikita has been away in Edmonton with his team for a roadie. The team had arrived back at Rogers a little bit ago. Knowing he has to swap out his equipment and then drive in the mess that is Vancouver right now, you’re trying to keep a calm mind about what is taking so long.

Feeling your phone buzz in the pocket of the massively oversized sweatpants you’ve swiped from Za. “Hey Za, you on your way home?” You ask as soon as you answer. “Hey sunshine. Yes I’m on my way there now. I was calling to tell you to start a fire. The power is out over near the arena. It’s only a matter of time before the house loses it too. This snowstorm is a mess.” His voice was so soft yet each word held a distinct sense of strength, as if he was trying his best to not make it seem like a command. He had a habit of sounding like he was telling everyone to do something when he was only talking with just the tone of his voice. Something he tried to hone back on with you. You nodded your head as if he could see you through the phone. Quickly correcting yourself. You agreed to his suggestion and offered to heat up leftovers. Hanging up the phone you started fiddling with the fire as you told him you would, as well as starting with heating up some food for him. Watching the plate turn around in the microwave your thoughts started to over take you.

“Sunshine, your fingers are turning pink. I know you’re cold.” Nikita grabbed the hand closest to him. “Why are you trying to act like you are completely fine when clearly you are freezing?” He asked a bit tiffed that you were sitting silently with painstakingly cold joints. “What else is there to do Za? I have layers on. We have a fire going and I have my quilt.” You say pointing out each for emphasis. He ran his hands over his face before getting up off the floor and walking over to the entryway of the house. He returned with a pair of gloves. “Put these on (y/n).” You looked up at him, trying to read his face. His tone of voice didn’t match the story his eyes were telling. His voice was rough and forceful but his eyes were pleading. “Now.” He added as you hadn’t moved to take the gloves from him. As if he was in control of you suddenly, you jumped and were quickly shoving the gloves on. He returned to his position in the floor pulling you in to his body. “I can’t have you freezing to death next to me.” Your heart was pounding. He was only supposed to be your best friend, your roommate. A platonic relationship but when he did things like this your heart beat so fast it wanted to explode. “If you froze to death, the sunshine in my life would disappear forever.” “Nikita, you can’t say things like that to a girl.” You tried to swallow down the emotions dwelling inside you. The things he made you feel when he talked as if it was just the two of you and only the two you for each other. “I’m serious. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have no light in this crazy world I chose to live in. The dream I dreamt of for so long. I need you here (y/n).” “Za. Please don’t say things like this. It can confuse a girl when you have her in your arms as a friend to keep her warm because the power in their shared home is out. But when it comes back on there will nothing more behind it but their friendship.”

The beeping of the microwave ending its cycle pulled you back to reality, snapping you out of the memories that oh so often haunt you. The beeping of the microwave ending its cycle pulled you back to reality, snapping you out of the memories that oh so often haunt you. Just as luck would have it the power cut off, and the front door swung open with a thud.

“(Y/n)?” Nikita called from the entrance way. “It’s just me.” He adds. Another thud comes. Presumably his bag.

“You’ve got this, it’ll be okay.” You tell yourself under your breath.

You felt your way back to the main room where you would have a source of light from the fire place. “Hi Za. Welcome home.” You met him near the doorway and gave him a hug. Greeting your best friend just like you always do when he returns home from road trips. “You were right, the power just went out as you were coming in. It’s going to get cold in here fast even with the fire. I did heat you up some food though. It’s still in the microwave for you.” You told him pointing to the kitchen where his food still was and covering yourself up as a chill ran through you. “How about I help you out and take your stuff up to your room, you eat before it gets cold and we can’t warm it back up, and then we can hang out down here?” You suggested. Desperate to get your blood pumping and away from the epicenter of your thoughts for a few moments. Grabbing his travel bags, doing your best to haul it up the stairs but failing in the end. “(Y/n/n) leave it there, I’ll eat and then grab it. I’ll need to change anyways. Go layer up so you don’t get too cold.” Humming in response you completely dropped his bag and headed up the stairs as fast as your legs would take you.

Conceding to your frustration of not being able to find a hoodie to fit comfortably over your long sleeve and t-shirt, you decided to ask Nikita. “Hey Za, can I come in?” You called from the hall giving a knock on the door. No answer. “Za?” You called out again pushing the door open. He wasn’t in his room. You popped right in and swiped one of his Canucks hoodies with 91 and Zadorov on the back. Heading back across the hall to grab your quilt and your pillows before heading down the stairs. “Remember (y/n) you can do this.” Telling yourself for reassurance as you bottom the stairs not seeing Nikita at the edge of the sofa. “You can do what?” Nikita asked slowly moving his eyes up and down your body, taking in that you are now dressed in his hoodie and his sweatpants. “Hyping myself up to not nearly freeze to death this time.” Tossing the blanket down then your pillows before settling down on them. Nikita had already pulled the blankets from the couch down to the floor sitting on the floor himself. “(Y/N) I think you and I both know you’ll end up freezing regardless of hyping yourself up. You get cold in the middle of summer.” He says with a chuckle almost as if it’s a joke to him. “Well just trying to avoid last time from repeating itself. We nearly ruined our friendship.” You pointed out before you could even stop yourself.

Nikita was holding eye contact with you after your words tumbled out of your lips. His face showed nothing but pure pain and shock. “Za I didn’t..” “No it’s fine.” He cut you off. “I was trying to put everything out there then, but someone wanted to think the worst of me.” He shrugged his shoulders while moving away from you, the furthest he could while still being near the fire. “Nikita. I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Now or then. I was protecting myself and I didn’t think there was any way possible you could’ve meant any of that beyond friendship.”

You never looked up from where your hands were fidgeting in your lap until you heard him scoff loudly. “Seriously? We were laying in this exact spot by a fire. You were lying on top of me I was holding you, running my hands up and down your back to help create heat out of friction. Plus I was telling you that if my sunshine froze to death the light in my life would disappear and you thought I didn’t mean it past a friendship?” He was shaking his head in disbelief. “That is why you kept saying I would confuse a girl?” He couldn’t believe that for the last four years he was the one who had been living in confusion, not technically you.

You knew what you wanted and you wanted him. He wanted you, but had spent the last four years thinking you thought he was some playboy. When in reality he had been pining for his best friend the entire time because of his own confusion. You were trying to calm your heart from its erratic pounding. “Nikita. Please I said I was sorry.” Closing your eyes to hold back the tears threatening to form and fall. He couldn’t believe any of this. He was elated to find out you felt the same way.

“(Y/N) open your eyes. Look at me.” He had moved so silently you had no idea he was now in front of you. Cupping the side of your face and looking directly at you with nothing but pure admiration in his eyes for a few moments before talking again. “Sunshine, put all of that out of your mind, please. Stop thinking about all. It’s over with. All that matters now is it’s cleared up we finally talked about it and I’m going to do everything in this fucking world to prove to you that you’re it for me. That it was you then and it’s going to be you fifty years from now. The light to my darkness..” He never dropped eye contact with you, he didn’t stumble over his words, yet they didn’t seem practiced. Each word came directly from deep with in his heart and held such strong emotion behind them. “Hey Za? I think you should kiss your girlfriend now.” You eventually choked out over the raw emotions swirling around. “Girlfriend? I didn’t ask.” He gave you his cheeky smile. “Shut up and kiss me Zadorov.”

[swissboyhisch]

That Scar Hurt By The Way

Pairing: Nikita Zadorov x Reader

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate link, you happened to luck out with a pain link.

Word Count: 1424

Warnings: None I think. It is an AU though.

Request: From ANON I need soulmate and or were! fics so bad any player!😍😍🥞🥞

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Soulmates. A term used to describe two people who were meant to be with each other. Can be used platonically but more common when referring to romantic relationships.

No-one knows when it began but these days, people were born with a link to their soulmate. There were different links you could have. Marks shared by the two. Person A draws on themselves and it appears on person B. One is singing/listening to a song and the other can hear it. Some have a measure of how much danger their partner is in. 

You were born with the pain sharing and matching scars link. Growing up, you’d have random bruises popping up on your body. At random points through the years, you’d feel bursts of pain before the bruises arose. They became more frequent in your later teens and early adulthood. And more painful.

There was one instance in particular that you vividly remember. 7th of November 2019. You were going about your day, teaching one of your grade 10 classes, when you felt something hit you in the face. Your hands flew to your lip. The pain was extensive. 

“Miss!” One of the girls shouted as the class watched you hunch over.

“Are you okay?” 

You worked up the courage to pull your hands away from your jaw. Blood. And a lot of it. “I–” 

“I’m going to get Miss Allen.”

Julie, one of your students, helped you to your desk and handed you the trash can. The pain became too much. Vomiting despite trying to hold it in. Your students whisper, worried about you. The sound of heels rushing to your class made you groan. 

“Okay guys,” Lily, your colleague and close friend, called. She clapped her hands to gain the class’ attention. “Can you please make your way next door to Mrs. Harrison’s class. She knows you are coming. Hurry please.”

Lily made her way over to you, towel in hand. You looked up at her. “Hi.”

“Hey, you look like you took a puck to the face,” She jokes.

You hold the towel to your face wound and give her a glare. “Thanks.”

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Lily states. “I have Hayley covering my class. And Nick is coming to pick up your class.”

15 stitches later and some strong medication helped you push through. That’s the day that won't leave your mind. You now have a permanent scar over your chin and lip that you try to cover daily. Makeup has become your best friend. Since then you have struggled with your self image. Men would cringe away, disgusted, when they saw the scar. 

Despite your quite obvious soulmate link, it was years after that event that you had met him. Nikita Zadorov. A Russian NHL defenseman for the Calgary Flames. Six foot five. Brown hair. Chocolate brown eyes. 

You moved to Canada to teach recently. Better pay. Calgary to be precise. And one day at the end of the school year, you had to cover for a PE class. You were told it was going to be an easy cover since there were a couple guests coming to talk to the grade 10 group. A couple of hockey players. Sure, you had watched hockey but not to a crazy extent. The class though… excitement. It was all they have been talking about for weeks. God forbid having these students after this period.

“I have your guests here,” One of the office ladies called as she entered the gym. 

In walked three guys wearing Calgary Flames merch. You smile, offering your hand and name. 

“Tyler Toffoli.”

“Jacob Markstrom.”

Then he stepped forward. I mean it was hard not to notice him. But the first thing that caught your eye was the scar on his jaw. One that happened to match yours. “Nikita Zadorov.”

“Hi…” Before you could shake his hand or say anything else the students started coming in. “Guys come sit down and you’ll get to talk to them at the end of class.”

“And signatures?” One of the boys asked. 

“Yes. And signatures.”

You got to sit at the back watching over the students and observing. You needed to find out more about the tall defenseman. Without you noticing either, Zadorov kept glancing at you. The class finally got to question time where they were firing off all types of questions, about hockey, about the team. But one piqued your interest.

“How did you get that scar?” One of the students asked Zadorov.

The man chuckled, “I got a puck to the face back at the start of the 2019-2020 season.”

Thanks to his words, you were thrown back into that memory. The pain. The healing process. You were basically 100% sure he was your soulmate. But there was one way of confirming it. Pain. A pinch to your arm. Nothing too extreme but it was enough to make him jump in surprise. One that you noticed.

The bell rang, indicating the end of the period and the start of lunch. The students finally left, and you went forward to thank them for coming in. They were staying for the last period to talk to another class, but you wouldn’t be covering. 

“Thank you for today. The kids loved it,” You hummed. “It was an honour.”

“I don’t want to be annoying, but do you have a scar on your lip?” Toffoli asked.

It caught you out. Too nervous to say anything. “I mean yeah, I got it years ago. Puck to the face. You know the drill.” You didn’t mean to say the puck bit, but you couldn’t think of any other excuse. Bloody Lily and her joke. 

“Same as me,” Zadorov smiled.

“Yeah…”

“Soulmates,” Markstrom grinned.

Zadorov pinches himself without you realising. You didn’t jump but you rubbed where he pinched. “You are my soulmate.”

“I think so… That scar hurt by the way.”

Neither of you could believe it. Your soulmate. 

“Can I see it?” Zadorov asked shyly. He remembered how badly it hurt. To know you also felt it. God that hurt him more than the actual injury. “The scar I mean.”

You guided him to your class where you could have the conversation in private. The other two dropped off at the staff room for some lunch. You sat down at your desk and pulled out your makeup wipes. Using your phone camera as a mirror, you wiped off your makeup covering the scar.

“May I?”

After agreeing, Zadorov’s hand comes to cup your jaw. Sparks filled your bodies, the soulmate touch. So gentle. Lightly ghosting your skin. His thumb grazed the scar. The dented lines across your lips and down your chin. One scar matching his.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, feeling his heart break once more.

When it first happened, he was aware that his soulmate was experiencing this at the same time. The pain accelerated because of this knowledge. Every time he looked in the mirror, he imagined what it would look like on another person. His soulmate. But to finally see it on them, the pain returned. He did this to you.

You smile softly, “It’s okay.”

“15 stitches,” he muttered.

“7th November 2019.”

Zadorov, still cupping your jaw, leaned in. Pressing his forehead to yours. “Tell me about it.”

“I was teaching back in Anchorage. End of the day. A grade 10 class. They’re probably scarred for life. Just feeling that sudden pain, hunching over covering my lip and jaw. But that pain had me vomiting. My friend had to take me to hospital. She even made a joke that it was like I took a puck to the face.”

“Well, you did,” Zadorov offers, “Kind of, anyway.”

Your class door opened and there stood your favourite colleague with Toffoli and Markstrom behind her. “When they said Zadorov had met his soulmate and it was the PE teacher, was a little shocked thinking it was Mr. Paulson for a hot sec.”

“Yes Big Z,” Toffoli grinned, messing with the defenseman’s hair. 

Zadorov pushed his teammate away with a roll of his eyes. “Leave us alone.”

“Can’t do sadly, bell is about to go so we have to head to the gym.”

You got an expectant look which made you shake your head. “I’m not covering for the next class. I have one of my own.”

“Can I see you after?” Zadorov asked.

“I hope you’d want to,” You laugh.

“Out of all the soulmate links to have, we have this. But I’m thankful it’s you.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[bunbunbl0gs]

Jack dating a cow girl 💓🤠🎀

masterlist

nhl masterlist

join my tag list here

tag list ; @ivy-34 @books-hlmc

[itsnotgray]

gray’s fic recs

my tagging/recommendation system is a mess beyond the point of fixing, so i made a masterlist. (i’ll slowly be adding fics to this!)

- an asterisk is next to players who play for the ahl team of said nhl team

- if works focused on more than one person, they’re listed under the other people, but only tagged in the first one you see in the list.

- also, apologies if the links don’t work correctly, it is in fact my first time making a masterlist

NHL/AHL

Anaheim Ducks

Jamie Drysdale

hey roomie by @emaanemaa

- trevor and jamie threesome. that's right, that's all it took to get you to go read it.

Trevor Zegras

chameleon by @hischierhaze

- listen- if you're someone who, whether it be consciously or unconsciously, changes themselves and their personality for those around them, or you have a history of it- please read this. I promise you, you won't regret it.

now that we don't talk by @sc0tters

- it's a toxic relationship with trevor, of course I'm gonna eat it up (she might end with trevor... or she might not. you'll never know if you don't read it.)

hey roomie by @ emaanemaa (fic linked above under jamie)

the penalty box series by @starsandhughes

I- if you're not already keeping up with this series... where have you been? every update is laugh out loud hilarious, and leaves you itching for more.

cruel weather- apart of the penalty box series by @starsandhughes

cruel weather gets it's own link because of the amount of emotional damage this inflicted upon me.

Arizona Coyotes

Boston Bruins

Buffalo Sabres

Devon Levi

like it very much by @jackhues

there aren’t many devon fics (which there totally should be), but the way i squealed when i read this one. further affirmed the fact that i think he’d be the best bf.

Calgary Flames

Nikita Zadorov

that scar hurt by the way by @swissboyhisch

- listen…. i’m the farthest thing from a flames fan, and can wholeheartedly admit it was an adorable read.

Carolina Hurricanes

Chicago Blackhawks

Colorado Avalanche

Columbus Blue Jackets

Adam Fantilli

to you, my adamo by @hischierhaze

- it's adam's birthday + his debut, can you blame me for crying?

his return by @hischierhaze

-this made me cry. but in making this, i'm convinced anything kei writes with the fantilli brothers makes me want to cry from either just how sickeningly sweet it is, or of course, sadness.

tiny dancer au by @letsgetrowdy43

god when i say sunny and adam have my heart- i mean it. they’re sososo special to me.

Dallas Stars

Wyatt Johnston

our song by @lovinbarzal

hands down one of my favorite wy jo fics/au’s. it’s wyatt x a barzal sister, a pairing i wouldn’t have thought of, but works so well!

Detroit Red Wings

Edmonton Oilers

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

waking up in vegas by @doc-pickles

- matty t x hughes!sister is a dynamic i didn’t know i needed.

Mackie Samoskevich*

perfect girl by @dmercer91

- this had me feeling things like no other... a big hint as to why? she's shared.

Los Angeles Kings

Alex Turcotte*

who does it better? by @harry-hollands

one of the cutest social media au’s in a while (technically has two parts, but they don’t have to be read together)

Minnesota Wild

Montreal Canadiens

Kirby Dach

here with you by @sc0tters

- it's amber's writing + kirby, what's not to love? (if that's not convincing enough, maybe the line, "I will follow you to the ends of the earth," is.)

Nashville Predators

New Jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

timeless by @babydollmarauders

- if I hadn't originally read this in the middle of the grocery store, I can almost guarantee that I would've cried from just how heartwarmingly adorable this is.

out by @babydollmarauders

- equipment manager x jacky boy- aka a trope I never knew I needed, but now crave after reading this.

ballad of a homeschooled girl by @babydollmarauders

- hands down one of the best pics I've probably ever read in terms of conveying emotion. my stomach was in knots the entire time, attesting to just how realistic the writing is.

never grow up by @aliaology

- i'm sorry but you're not human if you don't get even the tiniest bit emotional at any fic with "never grow up" as the song. BUT A FIC WITH THE BROTHERS? this rendered me emotionally unavailable for a solid 20 minutes.

medía management au by @babydollmarauders

the media management au is an ongoing series staring mr jack hughes and his lovely girl, dove! the updates always bring a a smile to my face, and more than likely make me laugh out loud.

4:41 am by @sweetestdesire

listen, as much as i adore brynn’s smut like no other, her fluffy, soft and sweet fics just do something to me. she writes them so detailed, and consistently has me craving for soft moments with a significant other (a significant other i do not have)

John Marino

stay for a while by @sc0tters

- when i talk about made me feel things, i mean it. amber never fails in writing panty-dropping smut, while also having an thought-out plot.

Luke Hughes

welcome back by @leaentries

- this literally made me swoon. a protective lukey- what's not to love?

nobody's love by @eyesthatroll

- my heart was in my throat while reading, and my emotions were all over the place. regardless of how emotional it left me, it was amazing and deserves all the love.

never grow up by @ aliaology (fic linked under jack)

- older hughes sister watches her brothers grow up + never grow up = tears

summer aches by @starry-hughes

- this fic makes me want a luke to take care of me when i get headaches, triggered by heat or not

what’s not to like? by @starry-hughes

- queen ellen and jimmy are a little apprehensive of you…

jack’s best friend by @lvrzegras

okay listen- any of the brothers x their best friends is great, but jack’s best friend x luke… it just hits different, yk?

Nico Hischier

I never could've seen you coming (I think you're everything I could've ever wanted) by @writingonleaves

- this is probably as close to a literary masterpiece as a fanfic posted on tumblr will ever get

will you take a moment? promise me this (that you'll stand by me forever) by @writingonleaves

- listen- it's apart of the universe she began in the fic above. I have the fic linked under nico (because the oc eventually ends up in a relationship with nico, as seen in the part above), but this is sososo found family heavy. if found family is your trope, then this is your fic

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

it's nice to have a friend by @youunravelme

- put me through the emotional wringer in the best way possible.

winnie martin's favorite person by @ilyasorokinn

- god- i cannot even begin to describe how cute this is. all i can say, is that I need more pictures of barzy with kids... for science of course.

New York Rangers

Ottawa Senators

Philadelphia Flyers

Pittsburgh Penguins

Sidney Crosby

she was the (red) devil by @crosbyscurls

- hockey meets f1 is already a dream combination… but sid x f1? absolutely amazing

San Jose Sharks

Seattle Kraken

St Louis Blues

Tampa Bay Lightning

Toronto Maple Leafs

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

these michigan summers by @lukevangelista

i feel like the only way your not aware this series exists, then your new here. because if you haven’t read this, where have you been? this is for sure one of my top three series’ on tumblr, finished or unfinished. will in fact, forever have my heart. (currently unfinished)

the sun to my moon by @ghostfacd

this fic is part of an au! i highly, highly recommend checking it out- quinny + a grumpyxsunshine trope, what’s not to love?

never grow up by @ aliaology (fic linked under jack's name)

- older hughes sister watches her brothers grow up + never grow up = tears

Vegas Golden Knights

Washington Capitals

Dylan Strome

it's never too late to come back to my side by @lukevangelista (a series)

- one of my recent favorites. particularly geared towards those who think back on old friendships (...and constantly overthink on whether you should reach out. spoilers- it's never too late)

Winnipeg Jets

NCAA

University of Michigan

Luca Fantilli

missing you, quietly by @bitchinbarzal

- emotional torture in the best way possible. i re-read a concerning amount

i lost him by @hischierhaze

- made me cry- but in a good way

baby 101- name reveal by @hischierhaze

- it's dad!luca... yeah that's right, now that you have that cute thought in your head, you kinda have to go and read it

I tell you that I think im falling back in love with you by @writingonleaves

- this fic is sososo special to me for so many reasons- and I think you should totally read this fic to figure them out... just saying

opposites attract au by @dmercer91

this is a link to the head anons for the au- but please go read this sweet au. luca and landen are one of the sweetest pairings.

Nick Moldenhauer

sundays are for textiles by @drewsbuzzcut

- super cute read, and it's apart of an even cuter au

all american lace by @drewsbuzzcut

- also apart of that super cute nick au she has- but this part was not so cutesy (it was at the end). had me on the edge of my seat, and tears building in my eyes. the type of angst you physically feel- but with the type of ending that makes up for it (trust me, it does!)

Mark Estapa

icy roads by @nicohischierz

the simplest explanation i can offer is that this broke my heart- but i loved it anyway!

Boston College

Gabe Perreault

princess!gf x gabe perreault by @yankstrash

- these two are on my mind at least three times a week. i aspire to become amelia- aka find someone who is as down bad for me as gabe is for “his meels”

[tapedsleeves]

get rec'd - just so so so late

hi. it's me again, hargaret. It's been a while.

Follow me out of this abyss - by @kllovk

nathan mackinnon / jonathan drouin, E, 30,427

An interesting take on A/B/O dynamics that had me captivated until the end.

fragile like a bomb by @zepuckinghockey

Adam Larsson / Vince Dunn, E, 3878

Adam is just looking for a good time in the heat room. Surely Vince is good at sex. Right? this is suuuch a fun premise. I love it when sex doesn't go perfectly i love it when dynamics are a little malleable, i loved this fic thru & thru.

running from ghosts by remyjane

nicklas backstrom / alex ovechkin, M, 19301

Nicke is secretly a prince. this fic doesn't feature heavy on romance but it is REALLY big on hurt / comfort and I LOVED it.

dare not speak its name by @droumack

nathan mackinnon / jonathan drouin, E, 42,622

Nate and Jo weren’t actually always friends. I gotta say - this short and sweet title didn't give me much to go on, but it did entice me. I waited for this fic to be completed with baited breath. I was soooo excited to read it. And when i did, i was blown away. This was SUCH a unique take on Dom/Sub dynamic fics and i was REALLY into Jo's POV even while he was being the most oblivious person on earth. Just. all around a perfect 5 out of 7 stars.

care and feeding by @spangledleatherponcho

tim stuzle / brady tkachuk, E, 10260

Brady learns something about Timmy. Aka the bunnicula fic. sometimes you learn your bunny best friend is a vampire and maybe you're into it.

i don't want to live love this way by @lurlur

vince dunn / adam larsson, e, 7057

a breakup in slow motion. this is SUCH a heartbreaking fic, because they break up and do NOT get back together which isn't normally my jam, but this is just. so well written and heartbreaking. Adam and Vince both have such unique and well reasoned POV's and I really, really love it.

to climb two mountains by @gaybroons

tyler myers / quinn hughes / nikita zadorov, E, 2191

read the title. you know what this is about. it's really really hot & well written DP.

i'm ready to journey again by thunderingskies

quinn hughes / elias petterson, E, 12192

Quinn and Petey were hooking up and it takes a long time for Quinn to realize that his feelings go way beyond that. This fic is just. oh man i love a good fwb to lovers fic and this one is *chef's kiss*

from this day forward series by @wymgreenteam

Nico Hischier / Jack Hughes ( / Jonas Siegenthaler), E, 91664

This series is based on a Swiss Royal Nico, arranged marriage to Jack & secretly in love with them both Jonas (in the sequel). Listen. This fic has everything. Enemies to lovers. Best friends to lovers. Polycules. Angst. I love it so so so much and reread it regularly. It's one of my favorite comfort fics.

take my hand, take my whole life too by @thatsnotbuddies

Jack Eichel / Noah Hanifin, T, 1817

jack and noah get vegas married. this fic is SO soft and SO lovely.

soft as it began by @droumack

nathan mackinnon / jonathan drouin, E, 41499

Nate & Jo get drafted together as mates - but Nate insists at first that it's platonic. I really liked this one as well, this author really has a way with angst that i really really dig.

[swissboyhisch]

So I have a few. But one of my biggest ones in Zadorov who is such an underrated player 🥺

[linskywords]

Forgot I wrote this, and it’s definitely not helpful in choosing who to ship Quinn with, but I’m deciding to share anyway.

Quinn is so shippable, he’s basically been shipped with his entire team. Brock, Petey, Brock and Petey, Thatcher, Thatcher and Brock and Petey, JT miller, probably JT miller and all the people I already listed; some new ones are Nikita Zadorov, Tyler Myers, Nikita and Tyler(two BIG guys who make look Quinn look smol). I mean you might as well ship him with their new goalie Arturs Silvos if you wanted. (Though this is making no me think of how the shipping works. Are these guys hiding their attraction because he’s their captain or just teammate in general, internalized homophobia, they’re already dating someone, etc. also are they in a place where they’re like “no don’t even think of that” so Quinn doesn’t hear the thoughts they want to have about him? Are they usually in situations when they do have those thoughts there is someone else around that Quinn thinks they’re talking about. Are younger people worse at hiding their thoughts because they are new and suddenly hit by a wave of fantasies? Or are the older guys more likely to be like whatever it’s not like I’m gonna act on them? Or maybe they only think about it when they’re at home and compartmentalize better? Maybe guys who met Quinn when they were really young and were in the stage where they were having all these feelings but didn’t understand them enough to think things like “what if I kiss him” or were so oblivious to their feelings that even if they were leaning in to kiss him they still wouldn’t realize what they were doing)

And then of course there is Trevor or literally any of Jack or Trevor’s friends because of course they’re all invited to the lake house and Trevor is basically another Hughes brother so he’s going to invite people too. And then there’s Brady, or some people like to do the best friend’s older brother in the other direction and ship Quinn and Matthew.

Anyways, this was probably the opposite of helpful because I just added more people to ship Quinn with. And if it wasn’t clear I’ve fallen into the Canucks polycules and I love them (but I will read mind reading Quinn fic regardless of who he’s shipped with if you ever decide to write it)

Ahahaha okay so I have options, is what I'm getting here! Clearly I'm gonna have to read more canucks fic. 🤣

You do raise an interesting question of how Quinn avoids seeing someone's interest if he's a mind reader. (I mean, obviously there are other stories to be told about Quinn, but for some reason this one is living in my brain now.) And actually it occurs to me, if Quinn mostly hears people's thoughts when they're thinking in words, can he just not understand Elias because he thinks in Swedish?? So maybe he stops trying to block him out, because it's not distracting like listening to other people's thoughts, and he kind of likes the sound of Elias's mental voice. But Elias is trying to get better at English, and sometimes he thinks in it, and--

[loviess]

cannot believe theres no elias lindholm/nikita zadorov fics... like yall are slacking

[jockrightsnow]

omg I would love to hear you talk more about your tags on that last post—how you research syntax/speech patterns for non-native English speakers’ dialogue. this is something I struggle with a lot in writing fic (esp writing Russian players!) and I’d love some advice on how to get better at it.

god this got long! i just care about this! i will put under a cut for the 99% who will be like u little pedantic bitch.

so my answer is probably not AS helpful for Russian players because i have not written at any length with Russian characters and their language is SO different, so i find it is trickier! but the process is likely the same. i am not an expert at this by any means (only know/have taught spanish <--> english), but i do think it gives you more believable voices and also tends to help you understand the perspective. some people are better at english than others! some are less good! some have been in english classes for a while, some haven’t! there’s variation! you don’t have to do this to write well, but i think about it.

some things i think about:

1. sentence structure/syntax--more than vocabulary, sentence structure is the thing that gives most english language learners trouble and tends to give them away. in order to figure out common mistakes along these lines, it is helpful to look up how sentences are typically structured in someone’s native language. very often, people learning english will rely on those structures. this is actually why swedish is very easy to learn for english speakers--the sentence structure is most often subj, verb, object. but there are tricks: in complex declarative sentences, the verb will always be second, even if there is an adverb or object in the first position instead of the subject, in sentences with subordinate clauses, the independent clause inverts verb and subject. stuff like that does tend to give a sentence a different feel, and it absolutely very commonly almost-always sticks with someone. it’s foundational to how people construct their thoughts, it can be hard to change.

2. pronunciation--i don’t love to see heavy dialect written phonetically and i think many people don’t, but there are ways to consider it and certain ways to write it well. certain languages have different stresses or tone ranges or pitches, which can give off a certain Vibe if you’re used to english, which is on the more expressive end of the scale in tone and pitch (obviously i don’t think that’s better, but it is different and it does affect how people hear a speaker’s voice). certain sounds straight-up do not exist in other languages, certain letters are always pronounced a different way. it leads to predictable mispronunciation. for this, resources like this are very interesting.

3. actual cultural language differences! this is in part about what turns of phrase are common, what’s the cultural (or often, can be regional) “cat who got the cream”-type idioms, what is colloquial that you don’t realize is colloquial, etc, but it can also be about how you talk about concepts on a larger scale. 

the recent sidney crosby engaged fiasco is a good example of this--in russian, “girlfriend/boyfriend” has a very casual connotation, so for longer-term relationships, a russian person might say “fiancee” instead. there are certain languages where you talk about love using different words if a relationship is more casual. these are fun, i think, because i do think that kind of thing can be meaningful. 

there was some book or study i read about how maybe the way we learn language impacts how we think. i think parts of it were debunked (eg not having a word for something like ‘crush’ doesn’t mean you don’t feel it, that’s silly), but parts of it are certainly true, right? like, if you have a different way of talking about spatial awareness or time, your ability to translate those concepts will be affected because your thoughts are often structured along those lines. 

4. vocabulary--less important than you’d think, but still interesting to think about what words someone would have learned. i expect hockey players to know virtually every hockey-related word in english, and even in the KHL, there is some coaching done in english because plenty of non-russian players play there and never learn the language (it is very hard). pretty much everywhere, you’re going to know the english words for many hockey-related terms. but you might not know other complex words, because you might not ever have a reason to or a context where you would’ve learned it or been corrected on it.

i often have to examine or cross-examine spanish speakers, and you actually don’t want to correct every single thing they say--you only want to correct things which might lead to a misunderstanding, because you don’t want to seem pedantic to a judge or condescending to a witness. 

this is also true in a lot of social settings. so i do see some things which tend to go uncorrected because they don’t lead to any wrongness. for example, videoS plural in Swedish is video klipp. it’s the same, it’s really the same. but i notice sometimes that plural S is dropped by Swedish speakers or a word like “klipp” that’s so similar in meaning and context to the english word will come it. there’s one video where petey says ‘eller’ instead of ‘or’--it’s close, it’s a word that doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t correct it, it’s normal, you get the point. there are plenty of words that are so similar they might just have a different inflection, or which are entirely the same in different languages. these will not get corrected in daily conversation for the most part.

but there are also false cognates which you DO need to correct (eg in spanish embarazada = pregnant, i do need to correct it every single time because it has a huge impact on proceedings if someone’s pregnant) and being aware of those is also helpful! 

there are also some crutch words which differ from person to person (this is also true for native english speakers). when people use those and in what way can be important. there are certain things a specific person gets wrong only when nervous or not thinking or whatever (i personally find the “person realizes they’ve been speaking in a different language while having sex because it was so good” trope. exhausting, to say the least. but it is true that in higher-stress moments, someone might not have the capacity or desire to do internal translation, or might feel frustrated by it.)

i really do think all of this is Very interesting, and mostly my advice on doing it for languages you don’t know is:

1) be thoughtful about stuff, be believable. contrary to what it seems like from this whole dissertation, not every sentence needs to have errors in it, especially for people who are Growing/Learning/Actually Very Good at english. don’t be condescending about it. being at an intermediate stage in english learning might make someone choose a simpler sentence that’s still correct. it might lead to an actual relevant misunderstanding or tonal shift. it might not. it might enhance someone’s understanding of a situation! it’s not all about just fucking shit up--it’s a hard thing to learn another language. you gotta respect people who are doing it!

2) hear people talk, preferably the people in question if available but doesn’t have to be (for characters i care about less, i will often wholesale map a sentence and then copy the structure exactly. i did this for pasta because i didn’t care about actually figuring out so much about him emotionally--i just listened to his ep of sp*ttin ch*clets as i wrote and copied several sentence structures exactly with my own Content and then, as you may be able to tell, gave up on that venture to movie-montage the rest because i am Lazy.) 

it’s interesting to hear someone talk both in their native language and in english--you get a feel for the tone and pitch differences, and also i love to see native language interviews because i tend to think they’re more reflective of someone’s actual thought processes when they’re not trying to come up with words or modifying their sentences to be simpler. petey’s swedish interviews, for ex, are far more reflective and eloquent and funny. but again, he is getting better very quickly, in part because swedish and english are more similar than they appear. progress is often slower for russians, because there’s a lot more ground between the two languages and a whole diff alphabet and also strong cultural affinity to where a good number of russians living in america almost exclusively hang out with other russians living in america. (see ex alex ovechkin, nikita zadorov--both have very russian-heavy social circles if Instant Gram is to be believed)

3) actually look up stuff like “common english mistakes for [x group]”--there are plenty of good language learning resources which will show you the mistakes people tend to make, the pronunciation errors, things like that. these are invaluable.

4) google translate stuff if you’re going to have a touching language-teaching moment. once read something where someone was contemplating how to say something, which they wouldn’t have done in reality, because how you say it was Exactly the same in the person’s native language. i also think it’s fun to read google-translated articles and see which things jump out at me as Weirdly translated, because those are often things which are going to be different! but that’s not gospel, it’s something you can look into. sometimes google translate is just bad.

[ao3feed-hockey]

use me like an oar, and get yourself to shore

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3b2nrlj

by wolver

Just a typical off season for the Avalanche players, really.

This follows the conclusion of the playoffs and onward, exploring coping and feelings and all that shit that comes along with it. Gabe has lots of love to give (from his heart and his dick).

Words: 4521, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Gabriel Landeskog, Nikita Zadorov, Tyson Barrie, Tyson Jost, Erik Johnson

Relationships: Gabriel Landeskog/Nikita Zadorov

Additional Tags: Polyamory, more relationships will be added, Because Gabe's a slut, Colorado Avalanche, Porn with Feelings, Everyone Is Gay, 2019 Stanley Cup Playoffs, and life after the playoffs, this was working titled monster fic, so it's ridiculous (sorry not sorry)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3b2nrlj

[rowdyluv]

if I have to rewrite this zaddy fic one more time I may croak. my phone deleted it first and now my computer dies at 25%????

i want to cry i was at 1.8k words and was VIBING

[swissboyhisch]

My Jersey

Pairing: Nikita Zadorov x Reader

Summary: After a little rain comes sun... And thunder. Thunder in the form of a six foot five Russian defenseman.

Word Count: 1389

Warnings: Shitty Bruins fans, harassment, some puck bunny comments, borderline sexual harassment, but also hinted sexual stuff at the end!

A/N: I love Zadorov and there is NOTHING on him anywhere. He's so cute as well. Easily the best dressed player in the league. Have you seen him in those suits... WOW. If anyone has any fic recs for him... PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME! Or even just to talk about him, feel free to send in something or message me. I'm always happy to discuss him.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

You, adorning your Zadorov jersey, shuffled along the rows of the Saddledome. You had a glass ticket that was next to the penalty box for the Flames. But for now, it was time to watch their warm-ups like many of the other fans. Around you was a large group of older Boston Bruins fans already in their seats. The way they were eyeing you made you nervous. The Flames players skated out for warm-ups skating past where she now stood. 

“What are you? Some kinda puck bunny?” Someone questioned from behind you. At first, you weren’t paying attention, but a tug on the back of your jersey pulled your eyes away from warm-ups. “Hey Zadorov slut.”

You turned to them after them tugging hard enough to cause you to stumble back into the seat behind you. “I’m just a fan, can you please stop?”

“What’s the accent, huh, sweetheart?” One of the other older guys questioned. 

“Leave me alone please.”

The grey-haired guy wouldn’t let go of the sleeve of your jersey. Even though you struggled and pulled. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the brand new Zadorov jersey. No-one around them was coming to your aid. You looked around, hoping someone would help you cause it was like he wasn’t stopping. A loud sound from behind you startled them. The guys doing the harassing looked past you. You turned to see the 6’5” Nikita Zadorov standing against the glass glaring at the group. 

“Don’t touch her,” He shouted, slamming his fist against the glass.

They seemed to listen to the Flames defensemen because they didn’t speak to you for the rest of the warmups. At the end of the 15 minutes, Zadorov came over with a puck in his glove. He smiled and pointed to you. He chucked it over the glass. You flipped the cold puck over in your hand, the Flames logo staring up at you. The kids nearby got excited but were sad when you caught the puck. One thing you hated was seeing the sad kids and there was one girl that stood in front of you that was also wearing a Zadorov jersey. 

“Here you go sweetheart,” You smiled, passing her the puck. 

The young girl got so excited jumping up and down and holding it out to show her parents standing nearby. You smiled and laughed as the kids were all bouncing at seeing a Flames puck up close. By the time you looked up from the kids, the team had skated off the ice and back to the changerooms. 

“Thank you for that,” A woman’s voice spoke up.

You smiled at the girl’s mother. “It’s all good.”

Everyone started moving to their seats after warm-ups ended. After buying a coke from one of the food stands, you moved to the opposite side of the arena and found your glass seat. Right next to the penalty box. You watched on as the stadium filled with fans becoming the ‘Sea of Red’. Something that was exciting to witness for yourself. It wasn’t long before the teams returned to the ice ready for puck drop. You were ready to watch the Flames win.

Marchand knocked into Markstrom making the ref call goalie interference. But that wasn’t enough. You watched as Zadorov skated to drop the gloves with Marchand. 6’5” vs 5’9”. Not exactly fair but that didn’t matter to a defensemen protecting his team. He screamed something in the Bruin rat’s face as he shoved him away from the crease.

“Get him!” the guy beside you shouted.

The ref stopped and sent them both to the sin bin. You watched as Zadorov skated to the one right beside you. He was pissed off and helmetless from the fight. He looked… sweaty. And sexy. He caught your eye and smirked at you. Whether he remembered you from before the game or not didn’t matter.

Calgary came onto the ice, waving thank you to the fans still in the crowd. The final score was 5 to 3 with Flames winning. Each player had something they were throwing to the fans. Some had pucks, t-shirts or hats. Many kids were back down against the glass but you just stood at your seat. Making sure to take pictures before you leave. 

Zadorov spotted you in the crowd once more. Paying no mind to the people around you. He grabbed a puck and skated across the ice. Standing before you, he held up the puck once more and made sure you knew to keep it. After you nodded he flicked it over the glass. 

You flipped the puck over in your palm again. Just like before the game. This time, on the other side of the puck, was an instagram handle. One that you didn’t recognise written in silver marker. 

“Me?”

Zadorov smirked and nodded. Tyler Toffoli bumped into him, the pair sharing a laugh. The other members of the team were heading off the ice. Zadorov sent you one more smile before the pair left the ice. You sat back down, knowing the three stars were yet to be announced. While you waited, you pulled out your phone and opened instagram. You searched the handle and a simple account popped up. A private account to be precise. As you requested to follow him, the announcers started the star presentation. Toffoli, Zadorov and Lucic were the three stars of the game which was awesome to witness. 

You followed people out of the Saddledome and continued your path down the street into the city where you occasionally went for post-game drinks. After a win like tonight, it seemed like many people had the same idea as you. You ordered your drink and found an empty table to perch yourself at. People watching was the entertainment for the night. Drunk girls dancing like nobody was watching. When in reality everyone was watching them twerk. Guys arguing over something stupid. It was like most of your solo nights out at the bar. 

“Well I didn’t think I’d see you out tonight,” A voice spoke up over the music. It was the certain Russian accent you’ve heard only in interviews.

The seat across from you was pulled out and Zadorov settled himself into it. Over the music the hollers of his already tipsy teammates could be heard. If either of you looked in the back corner of the bar, his friends were posted up. All celebrating tonight’s win against the Bruins.

“Well I decided to stop by on my way back to my place,” You respond.

Zadorov holds out his hand, “Nikita.”

You slipped your hand into his and shook it, yelling your name over the music. “So, Z…”

“A nickname already?”

“There are like 5 other Nikita’s in the NHL,” You state, “I need to differentiate them all.”

The smirk that came across the Russian’s face should have been illegal. “Yet, my name is the one on show across your back.”

“Is that how it’s gonna be?”

Zadorov chuckled, “It’s definitely a sight for sore eyes. A sexy woman wearing your jersey… It’s something most men dream of.”

Two drinks were placed on the table between the pair of you. Both looked up to see Toffoli already retreating back to the corner. Upon closer inspection, they had gotten your order correct. Zadorov was drinking what looked like stereotypical Vodka but anything was possible. Knowing athletes, a majority don’t like to drink during the season. 

“Well…” You smirk, “I originally wanted Tkachuk’s jersey but he was traded to Florida before I could buy it. Don’t you think it would have looked good on me?”

Upon hearing your words, Zadorov slid his hand up behind your neck. Gently pulling you closer over the table so he could whisper into your ear. “How about we go back to yours and I’ll make it so the only name you say is the one across your back?”

“Hm… Try me,” I retort, sending him a sly smile.

“Let’s get going shall we.”

“Sure thing Tkachuk replacement.”

On the way out of the bar, once out of curious eyes, Zadorov pulled you close and hand settled on your ass. Giving it a squeeze. “Just you wait baby. The only thing you’ll be wearing is my jersey as I make you forget everything but my name.”

TAG LIST:

@penny4yourthoughts @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[bunbunbl0gs]

Country girl 🐴🎀🤠👒

masterlist

nhl masterlist

join my tag list here

tag list: @ivy-34 @books-hlmc

[samgirard]

ok ok I know I obsess over your magical fae Gabe fic (because I’ve read it like three times) and I have a burning desire to know if Big Z is anything? He’s such a lovable menace and messes with the guys, so I didn’t know if you had thought of him being anything? 😂

For any fae that isn’t already on the team--and every one that is, but for different reasons--Nikita Zadorov is the most annoying motherfucker on the planet. He knows all the superstitions, he leaves milk out on the stoop every night, wears an iron chain around his neck, and understands how to avoid the wrath of the fae better than Gabe does. This does not mean he respects them. He knows how to mock, how to rile up, how to get under a fae’s glittery skin in every single way just far enough to make sure they can’t actually hurt him. Compare to JT Compher, who has grown donkey ears on the way to practice at least twice.