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onthinice-k · 8 months

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Little Do You Know - F. Andersen

It’s finally done! This fic was written for the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston and is for @mp0625. It was a nice challenge to write a reader insert for the first time, I had a lot of fun creating this story and I hope you enjoy readiit just as much!

Also, everyone be warned, I didn’t look at a single calendar or any actual game scores. I just did what felt right and hoped for the best. Also, don’t think too closely about the reader’s job. I have no idea how it actually works, I just put a lot of imagination and confidence into writing it. There also is a guest appearance of Seth Jarvis.

Summary: Suddenly working for the Carolina Hurricanes wasn't how you'd thought your year would end. Everything that followed was just as surprising.

Pairing: Frederik Andersen x f!reader (no mentions of y/n)

Words: 11.9k (I’m sorry, this was planned to be like 3k words at most?? I have no idea what happend)

Warnings: a few swear words? Reader is described as shorter than Freddy, otherwise no physical descriptions. It might sound just a little angsty at the beginning, but it's really not; mostly fluff and maybe some light hurt/comfort

Jane's grin should have been enough to make you suspicious.

It was one evening, after another long shift at work and overtime that you would probably never see the pay for.

Even without looking at her, you knew the look Jane would give you. One of those pitying ones that made you a little more defensive than you should’ve been - a constant reminder that perhaps the year hadn't exactly been perfect.

But that didn't automatically mean Jane was right. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, you had once tried to tell her once. You were happy. No, really.

Sure, the breakup at the beginning of the year had been long and accompanied by a lot of shouting and tears. At the beginning you had been so sure that he was the one - only to be disappointed once again a few months later. But you could always use that as a learning experience, couldn’t you? Jane didn't know what she was talking about when she’d said that you seemed lonely sometimes. Better alone than with the wrong person, right?

And sure, the water damage to the apartment wasn't ideal either. But at least the only thing that couldn’t be saved was the kitchen. Everything else just needed time to dry and, well, maybe a new coat of paint. Two weeks later you had managed to find a new place to move into with your best friend, Jane.

Maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong about your job being more than miserable. Seemingly endless overtime and the salary just enough to make ends meet.

Maybe Jane had a point, even though you hated to admit it.

You weren't unhappy per se. But maybe, just maybe, there was still room for improvement.

And now it was December.

Jane had gotten a telltale glint in her eyes when you both realized that. Less than four weeks left to end the year on a good note. Or maybe you should just wait for the next one and hope it’ll get better. So, with a shrug of your shoulders, you'd put the thought aside for the moment.

Her grin should’ve made you suspicious. But instead, it was already forgotten by the next morning.

–

"Jane!" Your voice was far too loud considering she was sitting barely a meter away.

"Hm?" Jane looked up from her book, confused, maybe a little worried. You weren’t paying enough attention right not to get a good read on her expression.

You couldn't believe your eyes. Even after reading the text for the third time, you wanted to pinch yourself. Hard. This had to be a strange dream.

The words blinking up at you from the screen seemed unbelievable.

"Did you- Did you submit my application with- to the- the Carolina Hurricanes?!"

Jane seemed to process your words in her head. Then understanding began to spread across her face.

Your mouth kept opening and closing, but no words came out. You didn't even know what you would have, should’ve, said. What was a normal response in this situation?

Jane straightened up a little and leaned toward you. She was looking over your shoulder at the laptop.

"Oh, they were faster than I expected."

"How... What..."

Sure, you'd complained to her just the other day that the youth team you'd applied to had suddenly realized they didn't have the budget for a full-time position after all. The interview at the equipment store on the other side of town left a lot to be desired after their first question was how much overtime you could put in per month.

But this? You’d never have expected that.

"Are you crazy?" Your voice was still unexpectedly shrill.

“It’s not a rejection letter”, she sounded a little too proud for your liking.

You squinted your eyes at her.

“Then I would’ve killed you. After burying myself out of embarrassment.”

"Oh, come on. You have to admit, it sounds perfect for you," Jane simply shrugged her shoulders. Leaning back again, she looked a lot calmer than you felt.

Nevertheless, you did have to admit that it sounded almost perfect. Often you had helped out with the equipment in small teams in the past and had always enjoyed the work. It was close to the action without being in the foreground.

But still.

"I can't believe you." You slumped back against the couch and ran your fingers through your hair. "This is crazy. You’re crazy..."

Jane sighed. "Hey, if you're not interested, don't answer." Then she turned back to her book.

She made it sound so easy.

"I didn't say that!" you defended yourself immediately.

Jane snorted, then at least a brief twitch of the corner of her mouth.

–

Your hands were shaking as you pushed open the nondescript door. It had all happened so fast.

Someone had called you the very next morning.

It was all so unbelievable that you could barely remember the phone call.

"It's a temporary position, but it needs to be filled quickly," the man on the phone had said, that much you could recall - immediately followed by the question of when you could start.

Apparently, someone had gotten sick after they were already understaffed and so they urgently needed someone to fill in.

Your experience at the small hockey center in your hometown had probably paid off after all. While growing up you had helped the coach, who trained the children’s hobby group, with the equipment.

In return, he always gave you old skates and sticks that were once forgotten by someone and never got picked up so you could try them out during your own team’s training.

Maybe they also decided on you because they just didn’t have many applicants with previous experience of any level available at such short notice. But who knew. And really, you didn’t really care either way.

Especially as just a few hours after the call you were now following hurriedly written down directions through the corridors of the arena that you had previously only seen as a visitor.

Anthony, whose first words had been "Call me Tony", had been awaiting you already. His tour of the most important rooms was not only packed with way too much information but also constantly interrupted by other people’s questions and demands.

Nevertheless, Tony remained friendly and patient with them as well as you, even when you had forgotten which direction you had come from for the third time in a row. Once or twice, he might even have stifled an amused grin.

"Let me just show you the storage rooms and then..."

"Anthony," an older man interrupted from the side. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression on his face.

An official-looking ID was hanging around his neck.

Tony grimaced at the use of his full name.

"What is it now?" he asked, barely able to hide his annoyed voice under a wavering polite smile. It was the first time you'd seen Tony anything other than friendly today. It was almost weird.

The man didn't really look at Tony, but rather past him, even though the words were clearly directed at Tony. "The sticks are all mixed up." The accusatory tone in his voice was clear, as if Tony had personally caused the mess.

"We don't know what belongs to whom."

Tony sighed. "Of course, you don't", he muttered so quietly that only you could hear the words. However, the other man would have been able to see the hint of an eye roll hadn’t he turned away again, apparently to grumble at the next person.

"Don't let Mike intimidate you," Tony explained, turning back to you, "in case he ever snaps at you. He likes to feel more important than he is." He rolled his eyes with a wry grin.

Someone hesitantly tapped Tony’s shoulder. This time a young man, who looked like he'd just graduated high school.

"Sorry, I know you're busy - I don't mean to interrupt - but, uh, a strap on a goalie pad broke."

Anthony ran a hand over his forehead. "Another one? Shit." He exhaled noisily. "That's the third one in two days. It has to be a production error. Has the manufacturer responded to the complaint yet?"

The boy's eyes widened, and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Mike called impatiently for Anthony from the next room. Torn, he turned briefly at the voice, then looked back at the boy next to him. "They probably need the goalies for training right now?"

The boy nodded shyly: "They said it was urgent."

Anthony sighed again.

Then he looked at you with a wry grin: "Looks like you'll get something to do sooner than expected."

He got handed a paper from someone walking past him. While searching for something on it he continued talking.

"We only have a few pads left in stock. The new order hasn't arrived yet and we need the ones we still have for the game tonight. Do you know how to sew?" He looked up.

"A little?" Your grandparents had taught you a long time ago, but it wasn't something you had to do regularly in your daily life.

"Great, that should be enough for now. It doesn't have to be pretty, as long as it does the job."

Anthony patted you on the back approvingly. Then he left you standing alone in the hallway, his exit accompanied by another long "Anthony" yell.

You were left standing there. Uncertainly you looked at the young man next to you.

He shrugged his shoulders just as unsure. He murmured quietly: "In that room over there." With a finger, he pointed at a door.

Well, then you should probably get to work. 'That room over there' really wasn't hard to find. It was only a few meters away.

What you didn't expect, however, was to almost walk into a huge man as soon as you entered the room. You always knew that hockey players tended to be quite tall, but it still took you by surprise.

You had to tilt your head back to look the man in the face. Of course, having lived here long enough you knew all the players on the team, at least by name. You weren't some crazy fan but at least invested enough to watch the games whenever you had the time. For your last birthday you had even gotten tickets to watch one live in the arena. It had been great.

Now you were faced with a certain goalie. Stubborn ginger strands fell into his face, his cheeks slightly flushed from training or the cold. Television did not do him justice at all.

Stay professional, you had to order yourself. This was your job. You couldn't mess it up, especially not on the first day.

Frederik looked up. He ran his eyes over your form for a moment. Then he tilted his head. "You're not Tony," his voice sounded unexpectedly soft.

"Oh, uh, no. I'm new here. First day today." Wow, very smooth. Good job.

If Freddie thought the same, he didn't let on. Quite the opposite. He openly watched you, his mouth twisted into a crooked grin. "Well, in that case. Welcome."

You mumbled a "Thank you."

A brief silence filled the room. While you reminded yourself to get yourself under control, you could still feel his appraising gaze on you - not hostile, just curious.

"How do you like it so far?" You could see little lines forming around his eyes as he smiled at you.

"I mean, a map would be helpful. All these corridors are like a labyrinth," you tried to joke.

Freddie laughed. "Oh yeah. You don't want to know how many times I got lost in here at first."

Maybe he was just saying that to make you feel better. However, you decide not to question it and just let the words calm you down a little.

"Are you almost done?" a woman poked her head into the room. Her stern features were emphasized by her narrow glasses. She reminded you of a strict principal scowling at running students.

You were almost certain you'd seen her in the corridors earlier today. Maybe Tony had told you her name and position, but if so, you'd already forgotten again. For the first dozen names you had made an honest effort to memorize them. The numerous ones following after that were buried in the sea of information that had poured in on you in a very short space of time.

"Oh yes, almost done," you grinned at the woman as convincingly as possible.

With a skeptical look, she let her eyes wander back and forth between Freddie, you and finally the pad, still hanging down loosely on his leg.

"Hurry up”, she ordered. You nodded dutifully.

When she had disappeared again, you breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes had literally bored right through you and left you feeling a little uncomfortable. Freddie had squirmed under her eyes just as much.

You didn’t want to risk her turning up here again.

"I think I'll go and get some stuff. To fix that."

Freddie nodded patiently.

Huh.

Well. There was just one problem.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they store needles around here, would you?"

Again, the corners of his mouth pulled to the side in amusement. "Aren't you the one working here?" He was obviously just teasing you, but your cheeks immediately felt a little warmer, nevertheless.

"Right."

In the end, Freddie did help by searching through the drawers in the small cupboard behind him while you examined the rest of the room.

Once needle and thread were found, the work was done quickly. The strap was tight again. It should hold on for the next few hours at least. The stern-looking woman had walked past the room a few more times – more than necessary in your opinion – as you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. However, she had not re-entered the room.

Freddie and you had had some simple conversations on the side so the work had gone by quickly. He had asked your name and where you came from.

All in all, your first job could have gone a lot worse. You were almost a little proud of yourself.

Maybe this was all quite doable after all.

It was terrible.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd walked so much, feeling your feet ache with every more step you took. By the time just half of your shift had been over, your legs were already heavy.

Once the game had started, the processes seemed a lot more structured.

The rather hectic running around of the afternoon was replaced by a lot of counting and carrying things from one place to another.

With all the work, you almost missed the end of the game completely.

However, the disappointment was hard to miss. It put deep creases in everyone’s faces; reflected in the way shoulders slumped and voices were muffled.

Losing again after a long winning streak probably always hit everyone hard.

Tony and you got handed the equipment to be washed and dried.

At least one thing hadn't changed though. All sorts of people still wanted something from Tony. He had mumbled to you "I'll be back in a moment", only to definitely not come back after a moment.

Afraid of getting lost for good, you decided to wait here for him anyway.

Everyone around you seemed to have clear tasks that they were silently following. It was almost strange to see the corridors so quiet, in contrast to a few hours earlier.

No matter where you stood, you had the feeling that you were interfering with the routines of other workers and so you gradually ended up further and further to the end of the narrow hallway. Not knowing exactly where you were was nothing new today. However, this time you were pretty sure this corner hadn’t been in Tony’s tour.

One by one, players came around a corner. They walked past you individually or in small groups. Very few of them probably really noticed you. Their mood was also noticeably subdued.

You weren't entirely sure whether you were happy to see Freddie again as he slowly stepped around the corner, or whether you would’ve preferred not to see the disappointed look on his face.

You gave him what you hoped was an encouraging smile.

For a brief moment, the corners of his mouth lifted, a hint of a crooked grin as he had almost passed you, but as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished again.

He exhaled forcefully. The heaviness in his eyes returned.

With a long breath, you watched his slowly shrinking figure.

No longer could you stand being in the hallway. You had seen enough disappointed faces for one day. A door caught your eye. It was held open by a chair jammed into the doorway. The cool light falling through the opening was brighter than the ceiling lights.

You dared to take one last look over your shoulder, Freddie had already disappeared from your view. And there was still no sign of Tony. So, you crossed the corridor with slow steps.

The door led directly to the spectator stands. It had apparently been opened after everyone had left the arena.

You let yourself fall against the door frame.

After a quick glance over the seating area, your gaze fell onto the ice surface. Your heart ached in your chest. Before, you hadn't realized how much you missed being on the ice yourself - or you had successfully pushed it to the back of your mind. Only now, when you were so close to it, did the longing come back to you in full force.

"Do you have skates?" The voice so close to your ear made you jump. Lost deep in thought you hadn’t noticed when Tony had appeared next to you.

"What?"

"Do you have skates," he repeated more slowly, "I have to be honest. I'd be a bit disappointed if I had to find out like this that you don't own any." He flashed an amused grin at you.

You frowned. "Yes, of course. I mean, I have relatives in Canada. They'd probably disown me if I didn't."

"Then what's stopping you from taking a few laps on the ice?"

He shrugged as if it were that simple. It couldn't be that simple.

"What? But no, I can't do that..." You found it difficult to find the right words. You didn't even know what you were trying to say yourself.

"The way you look at the ice longingly, it'll melt away otherwise," Tony teased.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "No, but really. Is that allowed?"

"Yep," Tony pointed over his shoulder. "Back there on the list are the times when the ice is free. As long as you don't mind the ice not being fresh, of course."

You could hardly believe what Tony was telling you. There was actually a possibility that you could skate on the ice? It’d been so long since you had skates on your feet. It’s been even longer since you’d last held a hockey stick.

When you thought about what it would be like to practice again after so long, a yearning overcame you.

"Nobody else usually uses it on Mondays and Wednesdays." Tony gave you a significant look.

The ice had obviously been heavily used. It couldn't have bothered you less.

The first step on the ice was shakier than you expected. And it still felt so relieving. Like rediscovering one of your favorite childhood sweets years later. Or finding change in your pockets that you’d already forgotten about.

Your face beamed with joy, becoming more relaxed with every step. After two laps around the arena, it felt as familiar as before. Your chest rose and fell at a fast pace.

Even after another ten minutes, you were still alone on the ice. When Tony had said no one else usually used the free ice time on Mondays, he hadn't been exaggerating.

You were still a little unsure before, but now you took the stick you had brought with you and a few pucks that were still in a bucket on the side from the last training session.

The last time you’d played hockey was even longer ago than the last time you’d skated. So, it wasn't surprising that you missed the net a lot the first few tries. The times you did hit the goal, however, felt all the better.

The skillful shots from your youth, when you still had time to go to training regularly, no longer worked nearly as well. In the past, you could’ve done them blindfolded.

Adult responsibilities however got in the way at some point, so you were glad that you were still able to attend a hobby group at least once a month until last year. And it paid off. After a short time, the stick no longer felt so strange in your hand. Maybe Hockey was a bit like riding a bike. You would never quite forget how to do it.

You almost missed the other person coming onto the ice.

Even without his number on his back, you could’ve identified him without a doubt. To be fair, there probably weren't that many people walking around in professional goalie gear. Especially those with access to the ice and a Canes logo on their chest.

Without a doubt: Frederik Andersen had just stepped onto the ice. The exact ice you were standing on.

Uncertain you looked back and forth between the exit and him. You were sure you hadn't misread the time on the list. The clock on the wall also told you that you hadn't just been here much longer than you thought.

Still, should you leave the ice? If he was here, he probably wanted to practice. You'd just get in the way.

After the game on your first day on the job, the Canes lost two more games. And as always happens, critical voices immediately got loud on the internet. Even if you hadn't looked any further, you could imagine what they said about Freddie – hopefully, he followed the media team's advice not to read any of it.

Freddie looked at you for a moment. Then he crossed the ice. However, instead of heading for the other half of the ice as you’d have expected, his path led straight into the net on your side.

Fascinated, you watched as he stretched and moved in quick order. Finally, he straightened up again, leaned forward and tapped the ice several times with his stick.

You looked at him in confusion. But when he then flicked a puck across the rink towards you with his stick, it was a more than clear invitation.

In this moment you were so glad to have had some time to warm up before he arrived.

Your first shots at the net were careful. And apparently, they were way too predictable and easy for Freddie, as he blocked each of them with ease. He didn't even look strained in the slightest.

You took it as a challenge.

The next shots were more confident. You even started to skate a few steps towards the net on each of them, instead of standing rigidly in the middle of the ice.

However, after a lost puck on the way to the net elicited a playfully disappointed shake of the head from Freddie, you made it your mission to mix in a particularly bad shot every few tries. Freddie’s reaction made it more than worth it.

If you looked very closely, you imagined you could even see the smirk under his mask every time.

In the end, you didn't know how long you’d played for.

When Freddie pushed his mask up, a few strands of hair were sticking to his forehead. His features were more relaxed than any of the last times you'd seen him here. It looked good on him.

As you went your separate ways again, he gently nudged you with his shoulder. The smile lingered on your lips for a long time.

–

"Do you think the small suitcase will be enough for three days?"

Jane looked at you over her shoulder. "Are you going on a trip? Without me?" She clutched her chest dramatically.

"There are a few away games coming up. And I'm supposed to come with them”, you explained. Your nerves must be written all over your face.

"Not that I think I'm really going to be that much help.", you added.

You had only just started to feel like you were slowly getting used to the work in the arena. By now, you could count on one hand how many times you got lost in the seemingly never-ending hallways of the arena in a shift. Even all the tasks no longer appeared as overwhelming as they did at the beginning.

Still, it had taken you days to even come close to finding your way around the arena. Even now, you kept discovering new rooms that you had never seen before.

Now, arriving in a completely foreign arena? You'd never seen how away games were run behind the scenes. And now you were supposed to help out yourself. Over the last days carefully established routines to make work easier would have to be broken again.

"Oh yeah, I totally forgot that you're super important now," she teased.

As if. "Hardly. More like the assistant to the assistant."

As you turned back to your bedroom, Jane called after you: "I’m sure it won't be as bad as you think."

Packing took longer than expected. This was probably partly due to the fact that you kept placing stuff in your suitcase just to take it out again minutes later. Should you pack a fifth sweater after all? Would one spare pair of pants be enough or maybe take the black ones with you as well?

By the time you had loaded your bags into your car, you were on the verge of being late. Enough time for you to arrive on time, not enough to get stuck in traffic or spend ages looking for a parking space.

However, you didn’t even get that far.

Your car made a tired stuttering noise before it fell silent again. The same sound was heard on the second attempt. By the third turn of the key, your fingers were already getting clammy.

"Damn it. That can't be true now." Try again. This time the engine only made a muffled scraping sound. "No, no, no!"

You dropped your head against the steering wheel. Frustration rose up inside you.

Another sharp turn. Your hand clutched the armrest. You preferred not to look too closely at the speed limit. Jane ignored your pointed glances toward her anyway - and today, at least, you were almost glad of her habit of speeding.

The bags on the back seat were a heavy reminder in the corner of your eye.

You almost felt like you were back in your teenage years, being driven around by your parents and older friends. Then the airport finally came into view.

Jane parked and let you out. A car honked behind you. Quickly you thanked her and got out of the car.

You didn't know how, but you were still on time.

–

After the flight, it was a blessing to arrive at the hotel room.

The room was small, had a strange orange wall color and a dubious stain on the floor that you strictly avoided stepping on. But at least you had the room to yourself. Reason enough to breathe a sigh of relief.

In the evening, you fell into bed early, exhausted from the day. Sending a photo of your room to Jane would have to wait until tomorrow.

The next morning, you were awake long before your alarm clock. You didn't know who exactly was in the room next to you, but whoever it was had started snoring loudly at some point.

Even after a while, you couldn't fall back asleep. You were slow to pull yourself out of the warmth of your bed, but happy to escape the constant noise. So, you got ready for the day.

When you arrived in the breakfast room with a sectioned-off area for the team and players, the buffet had only just been opened. Apart from you, there was only one other person here so far, who ignored you as politely as you ignored them.

Most people would probably eat later. The game wasn't until late afternoon, so there was no rush to prepare, and morning skate wasn't scheduled for a few hours, as you’d heard.

With a full plate, you sat down at one of the many empty tables. While you ate, you checked your messages.

Jane had texted you last night to tell you that she’d taken your car to the mechanic. Already, they had sent you an email with a list of what needed to be repaired. Your hope that it would only be just a minor repair instantly vanished as you saw the length of the list.

You gulped a second time at the amount at the bottom of the mail.

Shit. That would easily consume an entire month's salary. You dropped your forehead to your hands.

"Does breakfast in general make you unhappy or is it this one in particular?" The chair next to you was pulled back. A certain ginger goalie fell into the seat.

You couldn't suppress a faint snort.

"I wouldn't count my car as breakfast," you tried to joke. Just the thought of your car made you grimace again.

"Oh," his brow furrowed gently. "That doesn't sound good?"

"Yeah. I mean, it has made a weird noise for a while now, should’ve known something like this would happen eventually. I just hoped to have a little more time before having to get it repaired."

Groaning you let your head fall into your hands again. Freddie shook his head, an amused glint in his eyes.

Then he seemed to have another thought.

“Wait, so how did you get to the airport?”

“Oh, I had someone drive me.” You turned your head to look at him.

“Boyfriend?" Maybe it was just hopeful wishing, the way Freddie's eyebrows drew down a touch further. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business.”

"My roommate, Jane." After short consideration, you also added: “Don’t think my ex would’ve even bothered to drive me.” You couldn't see Freddie’s face at that moment as your eyes were drawn to a new incoming message. Just Jane complaining about the weather.

“That sounds like there’s a story.”

You snorted. “Not a good one.”

Freddie seemed to get the drift. He did however furrow his brows slightly and asked slowly: "Wait, how are you getting home then?"

You could almost have sworn that Freddie was sitting closer than at the beginning.

To be honest, you hadn't really thought about it yourself. "Probably an Uber or...?" you mumbled but didn't finish the thought.

Someone from the marketing team - Angela? Angelica? Angeline? - sat down on a chair opposite you.

The conversation was paused for now. Instead, the blonde woman chattered away happily as you just nodded at the appropriate times.

You hadn't noticed when the room had started to become so crowded.

–

When they’d said: "I have an exciting task for you today", you hadn't thought that cleaning helmets would be a big part of it.

Being allowed to take on more tasks on your own was wonderful. And you were grateful.

There were various parts on a few of the helmets that needed to be replaced or checked. By itself a nice and relaxing work. However, having to polish helmets had always been very low on your list of favorite activities. And today you had to clean every single one after the repairs.

One by one, some players arrived to collect their helmets for training themselves. Others were picked up and taken away by staff on their way past. By the time the last helmet was shiningly clean, there were only three left on the table next to you, waiting to be picked up.

And, well, one of them was a beautifully painted goalie mask of a very specific goalie.

Another player came to collect his helmet. You immediately suppressed the disappointment that welled up in your stomach when you realized who was coming through the door. Or rather, the disappointment at who it wasn't.

He was friendly, exchanged a few brief words with you and finally thanked you before disappearing again.

And then, Freddie came into the room. You almost missed it over your struggle of trying to get a new rag from the top shelf.

“Let me help you”, the deep voice from behind surprised you.

He probably could’ve stepped around you and still reached the pile of rags easily enough. However, Freddie appeared behind you, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.

Even after grabbing the desired item, he didn’t step back a whole lot, stayed close. If you would’ve wanted to you could’ve taken a step to the side. There was more than enough space and even if there wasn’t you knew Freddie would’ve moved immediately and apologized if you’d asked. But you didn’t.

You stayed exactly where you were.

The air between you felt almost charged. You wanted to see what Freddie’d do. You didn’t get the chance to.

The moment was over as quickly as it had come when the door was pushed open. You both jumped.

Until now you’d only seen Seth Jarvis occasionally from a distance in the hallways. Apart from that, you haven't had much to do with him yet.

The first thing you noticed about him today was that he was already holding his helmet in his hands. It was hanging over two fingers as if he had forgotten he even had it. You dimly remembered giving it to one of the employees not long ago.

You looked down at him once with furrowed brows. The rest of his equipment looked complete too and in working order.

Freddie huffed.

Seth's gaze flitted back and forth between him and you. A far too pleased grin began to grow on his face.

For a few seconds, his gaze stayed wandering between you two.

Finally, you broke the silence when it didn’t seem as if he intended to say anything.

"Is there… A problem with your helmet?"

Seth blinked at you. Then he followed your gaze down to his hands.

He shook his head, almost confused by your question. "No, everything's fine."

Okay? Then he probably hadn’t returned for that.

"Then... Anything else I can help you with?" you continued to ask.

He looked down at himself once more and seemed to think for a moment. Freddie started to speak, a meaningful glint in his eyes: "I'm sure it isn't-"

Somehow that just made Seth’s mischievous grin reappear.

He interrupted Freddie: "Hm, I don't know," he thought slowly, "My shin pad has been kind of weird these last few days and…"

Freddie scowled at him. But Seth didn't let it bother him at all. On the contrary, his grin widened a little more.

Amusement flashed in his eyes. There seemed to be some kind of silent communication between the two.

Finally, Seth concluded: "But it's not really that bad.”

So, you were back to square one.

"Then, anything else I can help you with?"

Seth’s answer came too quickly: "I guess I forgot why I came here. Can’t have been that important."

Turning around, however, took him longer than it should have, and you were pretty sure he did it on purpose. At the door, he threw another grinning look back.

Finally, you two were alone again.

You continued blinking at the door. What was that?

"I should probably see what he's up to," Freddie sighed but offered no other explanation. Nevertheless, he made no effort to leave.

Instead, almost absentmindedly he traced an invisible line in the table.

It took you a moment to notice - he lingered.

You didn't know what to do with the realization. Staring at Freddie the whole time only made you feel stranger. Whatever this conversation just was already left you almost dazed, so you picked up the last remaining helmet beside Freddie’s mask again.

You already knew it was spotless. Not for nothing had you spent so much time cleaning it earlier.

Just to have something to do, you picked up another cloth and set to work again.

Freddie watched you silently. There was something comfortable, almost familiar about sharing the silence.

When the last helmet was finally picked up by another employee, it was the signal for Freddie to leave.

You handed him his mask as well. Your fingers touched too long to be just a coincidence. It made your heart beat loudly in your chest.

For a moment you hesitated. Then you raised an arm briefly to his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. "Good luck!"

Before you had a chance to regret your decision, you went back to your work.

–

The high spirits of some of the players you spotted hours later in the hallways told you how the game had turned out, even though you’d been too busy to watch.

You didn't think Freddie would send you more than a quick smile as he walked down the corridor. Two others caught up with him. One of them, easily recognized as Seth Jarvis, and one of the rookies. Seth said something to Freddie, then pushed him to the side straight at you, laughing with one hand behind his back.

With a slight color in his cheeks, no doubt still from the game, he took a few steps towards you. Smiling, he raised an arm. He waited a moment, as if offering you a way out. Instead, you gladly took a small step in his direction.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pressed firmly against Freddie, who murmured a quiet thank you against your hair. Then, he let go of you all too quickly.

What exactly he was thanking you for you didn’t know. You also didn’t get the chance to ask.

As they passed you, the other two players behind Freddie greeted you cheerfully. You didn't even know other players knew your name. Seth looked almost as amused as earlier today.

–

By the last day of the road trip, you could no longer stand being in your room. Something about the specific shade of the wall color made your skin itch if you looked at it for too long.

It was unexpected how much you missed home. Even after just those few days in hotel rooms.

Maybe it was having to live out of a suitcase because it wasn't worth putting your things in the closet when you might be traveling to the next city that same night or the next morning. Or maybe it was the way you were constantly surrounded by the general working atmosphere.

You couldn't put your finger on it. What you could say, however, was that you couldn't wait to get home.

Just one last game.

After dinner, you couldn't bring yourself to go back to your room. Instead, you explored the common room reserved for the team and staff.

Through the window, you could see some players playing with a ball in the backyard below. At a table in the corner, various people were playing a card game you had never heard of.

In a quiet area, you settled down with a book.

Everything was ideal for reading. It was quiet enough; the sofa was comfortable and you were wearing one of your coziest sweaters.

Still, you couldn’t concentrate on your book. Your thoughts wouldn’t calm down, leaving you feeling restless. Every few minutes you shifted in your seat.

You would have liked to fast-forward the day so that it would finally be evening, and you could go home. If it was up to you, you would have already been on a plane.

Every time someone walked past or entered the room, you unconsciously raised your eyes. And every time, you were annoyed that you had lost the line in your book again. Not that you could remember much of the story anyway. Your attention wasn't quite there.

However, it also meant you noticed when Freddie entered the room.

He stopped several times to talk to people. When he was only a few steps away from the sofas, he looked back and forth between them.

Before you could think about it too long, you slid a little to the side, as if an invitation. There was more than enough space next to you for him to sit down without you touching. However, you left the final decision to him.

You didn't have to wait long. Freddie plopped down on the couch - just a touch closer than usual, but still far enough away that you almost questioned if you were just imagining it. Not that you were complaining.

He opened the book he'd been holding under his arm.

Not exactly subtle, he kept watching you out of the corner of his eye. As soon as you lifted your head, however, he immediately averted his gaze.

Actually, you didn't want to ask. You weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer. What if it was a problem just you had. But still.

After another moment of thought you blurted: "Do you ever get tired of away games?"

"Huh?" He looked up, apparently not having anticipated such a question.

Well, there was no turning back now anyway.

"Like, traveling around all the time, being away from home so much?" you tried to explain.

His answer came easily. "Oh, absolutely. I used to hate it so much. Now it’s not as bad anymore. I mean, some days I would still be rather at but, ehn." He shrugged his shoulders.

Only after a moment did you ask further, having the feeling he wasn't going to add anything more.

"Used to? What changed?"

"Mainly the team. Getting to know the people you spend the days with has been incredibly helpful. It feels less like a business trip and more like… Like a school trip when you were younger." For a moment he got a far-away look in his eyes as if lost in thought.

Your gaze glided across the room. ‘Business trip’ summed up pretty well how it felt to you. Even though you've had superficial conversations with a lot of people, you probably didn't know any of them nearly well enough to put them anywhere near the friends category.

But of course, you’d also noticed how many of the others were always planning activities in groups or just talking and joking over the meals.

You exhaled briefly.

Freddie watched you for a moment. He tilted his head, then continued slowly. His words seemed measured: “You know, the first road trip after my trade here was particularly hard."

You hadn't even thought about that. Your stomach tightened at the thought of how Freddie must have felt.

"Of course, at most everything is the same, but it still feels so- so unfamiliar. You don't know who's sitting next to whom on the plane. You don't know who's a good roommate and who might snore loudly or leave their things everywhere. And all these little rituals and changes that might not even exist at home games."

"But it got better?" You looked at the hands in your lap.

"It really does. The first few times the unfamiliarity, it's so exhausting. But with each more trip, it becomes more and more of a habit."

After a beat of silence, Freddie added slowly: "I don't want to lie to you. Sometimes I'd still rather stay at home. Home games are definitely more enjoyable, as far as that goes. But they're exceptions, just like everyone has bad days."

Encouragingly, he gently pressed his shoulder against yours. The brief touch turned into a long moment, somehow your whole sides touching. Your arm rested against his, your legs just a few inches away.

After a few moments, when he still hadn't slipped away again, you let yourself relax against him. Gradually you could feel Freddie’s muscles losing their tension as well.

"What about Denmark? Do you ever miss being there?" you asked into the silence between you. Freddie looked out of the window.

"When I was younger, I missed it a lot more than I do now. I haven't lived there for so long now that I hardly know any different."

Your eyebrows drew together. You didn't know whether the statement reassured you or whether it made you want to give Freddie a long hug. Somehow it sounded so sad.

"I can still visit it regularly. And it's not as if my family would ever let me forget the language." He pointed to the book next to him.

You hadn't looked at it closely before. But now you noticed that the title consisted of large - obviously Danish - words.

"Just sometimes..." he shrugged his shoulders unsure. Then he picked up his book again with a sigh.

This effectively ended the conversation. You wanted to ask more, but the far-away look in Freddie’s eyes stopped you. Now you felt bad. Making Freddie sad hadn’t been your intention.

As if he could read your mind, he knocked his elbow against yours gently. You took a deep breath. Returning the gesture, you began reading again as well.

While your earlier worries had calmed down for the time being, now, with every breath you took, you were made aware of how close you and Freddie were sitting to each other.

You didn't want to have to get up again.

–

The flight home was uneventful. A general tiredness hung over everyone.

You yawned again as you finally stepped outside into the cool night air.

The tiredness made you inattentive and you flinched when someone unexpectedly appeared next to you.

By now you didn't even need to look at him to recognize Freddie. Just his stature and the hint of ginger hair were enough.

He casually reached for your bag and took it from your hand.

Baffled, you almost stumbled over your feet, looking up at him.

"That's my bag."

"Yep," he said with a grin. He had slowed down to give you a chance to catch up. "At least I hope it’s yours and not some random one you just took."

You rolled your eyes. “Then what are you doing with it? Now that we've established that it is my bag."

"I'm giving you a ride." He stated casually, then started walking again.

If you hadn't been so exhausted, you would have at least tried to protest out of politeness.

Nevertheless, you couldn't help but at least tease tiredly: "Maybe I've got another ride by now."

"Is that why you have the Uber app open?"

You looked down at the phone in your hands. Huh, you couldn't say anything against that.

Freddie became serious for a moment. "Hey, if you really don't want to, I'm happy to just wait here with you until your Uber arrives. But the offer stands."

"You really don't have to," spoke the good manners out of you. Your parents would have been proud. Even to your ears, however, it sounded very half-hearted.

Freddie stopped. You almost ran into him. Since you managed to stop just in time, you were now standing right in front of each other instead. If you had leaned forward just a little, you would have been touching.

For a long moment, Freddie held your gaze. "I know I don't have to. But I want to." The sincerity in his words made you swallow. For a few seconds, you stood in front of each other, looking at each other. You could have sworn Freddie's eyes flickered down your face for a moment.

But then he just cleared his throat and started walking again. You ignored the small spark of disappointment in your stomach.

You were sure that Freddie purposely made himself taller as he looked down at you and joked: "And no offense to you, but you're really not big enough to be threatening."

"Hey! I can be scary if I want to be."

"Uh-uh. Whatever you say."

You stuck your tongue out at him, even if he couldn't see it, as he opened the trunk.

For some reason, you had expected the car ride with Freddie to be awkward. Instead, comfortable silence spread between you. After you had told him your address, he navigated the car slowly through the dark streets.

You watched the streetlights pass by the windshield for a while.

"So, do you give all the poor stranded newbies a ride?" It could be taken as a simple joke. You tried to keep your voice carefully neutral. Still, the mood in the car shifted. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather more serious than before. It felt important.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just being helpful?" Freddie didn't even sound like he believed the reason himself. It wasn't a straight answer, but it wasn't an immediate deflection either. You could just accept this as the answer and move on, just, you didn’t want that anymore.

"Normally? Yes. But when you say it like that? Not really”, you still kept the tone light.

"Yeah... My sister is the only one in our family who is a good liar. As a teenager, I always envied her for that. She could outsmart our mother every time."

A small smile graced your lips at the story. You could literally see it in front of you, a young Freddie stammering as he tried to come up with a story about why he was home late.

Freddie parked the car in front of your house. He continued to look straight ahead. In the dim light, you couldn’t be sure, but you could have sworn his ears were turning red.

"I mean, it really wasn't a big deal. And you're not the worst company either."

"Such a high compliment," you grinned, "Not the worst company."

Maybe his cheeks had gained a little color too.

"But really, thank you, for the ride. It probably wasn’t on your way."

"It was nothing, really. And maybe it was also a little selfish." He said it into the quiet of the night as if it were a precious secret. He turned his head towards you and looked straight at you. There was warmth in his gaze, perhaps a spark of hope.

"I like- I like spending time with you."

You couldn't help but smile at the words. Freddie smiled back.

Very slowly, one of his hands moved towards your face, as if he was giving you time to object. You immediately leaned into the touch as he cupped your cheek.

He stroked the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. One of your hands rested on his forearm.

"Good thing I like spending time with you too," you whispered softly.

Afterward, you couldn't remember who moved first. Freddie's face came closer towards yours. Your free hand buried itself in his shirt, the other one letting go to run through his hair.

As soon as your lips met, time seemed to stand still for a moment. You forgot all your previous thoughts. The only thing existing was the feeling of his lips pressing gently against yours.

Soon, the sweet kiss turned deeper. The angle wasn’t great, but you made it work.

When you finally broke away from each other, you didn’t move far. Your forehead rested against his, you could feel his breath against your lips.

A small giggle escaped you. Your eyes met. It made Freddie’s smile widen, before his hand slid into your neck to pull your lips to his once again.

–

It was pure coincidence that you had packed your skates.

After a morning of unpacking deliveries and doing inventory, you were ready to just go home and curl up on your couch. Only Sarah, with whom you had shared the work, had made it more bearable. Before, you had only known her by sight. Now you couldn't remember the last time you had made friends with a colleague so fast.

She was also the first who saw the note on your locker. With a raised eyebrow, she watched as you read it. Your expression had apparently told her enough because she didn't question your decision to stay in the arena and instead said goodbye with a wink.

The note was pretty inconspicuous.

'Meet me on the ice?’

It was the thought of who the message was probably from that made your heart skip a beat.

When you stepped onto the ice this time, Freddie was already skating slow circles across the rink. You were delighted to realize that you could be faster than him in full gear and after several hours of training.

It was a moment of being inattentive – and maybe also you getting tired after a few laps – that he took advantage of. With a gentle push, cushioned on all sides by his pads, he pushed you against the glass.

With your back against the glass and his arms on either side of you, you stopped.

"Hi." You grinned up into his face. Through the mask, he grinned back just as widely.

"Hi."

"What a coincidence to see you here."

"What, were you expecting someone else, skat?" The way Freddie emphasized the last word told you he knew exactly what that would do to you. Your heart melted.

"Writing notes. Pet names. Is this becoming some high school romance novel?"

"I don't even know what you mean, elskling." You could hear the amusement in his voice. Before you had a chance to answer, Freddie had already pushed himself away.

He positioned himself in the net and leaned down. It didn't take you that long to get used to shooting again.

–

With your skates in hand and a pleasant exhaustion making your legs heavy, all you wanted to do was grab your stuff and finally head back to your apartment.

As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone. You only just managed to stop in time.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to still be here. Didn’t you finish several hours ago?" Tony looked down at you. In one arm he carried a pile of sticks, in the other a large folder overflowing with notes.

"But, oh wait, it's actually good that you're here."

The next words made your heart stop for a moment.

"I just need to talk to you for a minute."

When had that sentence ever been followed by something good?

You couldn't say for sure how long Tony had been standing here. Maybe he had just seen you with Freddie. Before that, you hadn't even thought about whether that was allowed. What if both you and Freddie got into trouble for it?

Or even worse. What if he found out about you and Freddie off the ice? You had only briefly skimmed the contract when you’d signed. You had been far too fascinated by this world, which was secret to every normal fan, to care about that stuff. Not that you’d even expected something like this to happen.

Now you were desperately trying to remember if there was a paragraph about whether relationships with players were allowed at all.

"I won't keep you long," Tony finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Brynn - that was the one who was ill. You were his replacement, I don't know if you ever heard his name." You couldn't remember it, but you'd been told so much in the first few days that you could very well have just forgotten it again.

"Anyway. Brynn will be back tomorrow," Tony's face stiffened, "So technically, we don't need any extra help anymore."

"Oh." Of all the fears that had been running through your mind, that hadn't been a scenario you’d considered. You had known from the start that it would only be a short-term job. But you’d have never expected it to be this short.

Tony smiled somberly. "I'm really sorry. I didn't think it would be so quick."

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's great for Brynn." You weren’t lying. Obviously, it was good to hear, that he was healthy again. But at the same time, knowing you’d lose your job made your heart ache. Even in the short time, you’d grown to love it.

"Yeah," Tony nodded a little absently. He looked conflicted. "Okay, so. Technically I'm not supposed to say anything yet, but... my boss is retiring in the next few weeks. His replacement should be decided by the end of the week. We've had a few conversations and let's just say... I feel like I've got a pretty good chance of getting the role."

"That's really great for you?" you said slowly. Not that you weren't happy for Tony, but your enthusiasm was limited after you'd practically been fired just a minute before.

"That means there's a job opening to be filled." He looked at you meaningfully.

It took you a moment to finally understand. "Oooh."

"Yeah," he nodded, now with a hint of a grin on his lips. "I could put in a good word."

"Really?"

Tony nodded. You had to suppress a loud cheer.

–

It was a strange feeling. Last away games you’d wished so desperately to be home again. This time you wished you could join. Having to sit at home and having to say goodbye to Freddie sounded almost worse.

"I'm going to miss you for the next few days."

Freddie came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you let yourself fall against him.

He looked at you questioningly over your shoulder. "You're not coming?"

Then it seemed to come back to him too. "Oh, right."

It had taken you almost two days to tell him about the conversation with Tony. You were unsure how to. Plus, an annoying voice in the back of your head that would convince you that Freddie wouldn't care at all.

In the end, you blurted it out one afternoon. In your head, you stuck your tongue out at the nasty voice when Freddie immediately took you in his arms and asked how you were doing.

Even now, he gave you another apologetic hug.

Only one more day until the day Tony would hopefully call.

The timer beeped. Sighing you peeled yourself from Freddie to take the tray out of the oven.

You sat it down on the counter next to the first, a lot less successful attempt.

You had wanted to do something nice for Freddie, had read up on Danish pastries the day before and after long contemplation finally saved a recipe on your phone. You didn’t know how to pronounce Brunsviger properly, but the pictures had looked great and the recipe seemed easy enough.

You still didn't know exactly where things had gone wrong. Although you had assured Freddie that he really didn't have to – and really, shouldn’t – he had tried a forkful of it anyway. As expected, it wasn’t good. Still, there was a traitorous wetness in his eyes and a long hug.

For the second attempt, Freddie hadn't left your side and guided you through it.

You left some on the counter for Jane. A silent apology for the last time you’d had Freddie over. You might have forgotten to tell her beforehand.

Or maybe, tell her about this at all. There just hadn’t been a good opportunity, especially also constantly having to think about your job.

On this day of all days Jane had come home a lot earlier than you anticipated. For a few seconds, she’d just blinked at you two sitting on the couch, you with your legs in Freddie’s lap.

Then, with a tight voice, she had asked: “Do you have a moment.” Her head nodding to the kitchen.

It had made you feel a little guilty how shocked she looked. Her first words being: “Is that Frederik Andersen in our living room?”.

Obviously, she was happy for you, after the first shock wore off.

The piece of Brunsviger was gone the next morning as you brought Freddie to the door.

"You're gonna be great," you told him goodbye.

The hug was long. Neither of you wanted to be the first to leave. In the end, it was time that drove you apart. If Freddie wanted to get to the airport on time, he had to hurry.

–

Of course, you watched the games. The first game was great, the second one maybe even better. It was also the first time since the new job that you were actually able to give the games your full attention again. Even if you hadn't really noticed it before, you had missed it a little.

You had a good time. When Freddie had a particularly good save, you wrote him a message. You knew he would reply after the game in the flustered way he always reacted to compliments.

The phone call one evening still took you by surprise. A smile spread across your face. "Hey."

"Hej."

Before you could even reply, you heard a voice in the background.

"Hey, Freddie, what got you smiling like this?" You didn’t recognize the voice but you also didn't have to in order to understand the clearly teasing undertone.

The rustling from the line told you that Freddie must have covered the microphone for a moment. The muffled words he threw back sounded a lot like an insult. The response was laughter.

"Talking to your girlfriend?" came another voice, also obviously meant to tease.

Freddie didn’t reply. You could only imagine his facial expression.

Apparently, it was an interesting one. They probably also had expected some kind of denial.

Now there were several voices talking excitedly over each other.

"Wait what?" - "Wait are you serious?" - "Since when?"

"You can't just say that and leave! You have to-"

Then the voices in the background suddenly disappeared.

"Sorry, I just need to change rooms for a minute”, he said a little sheepishly. "They might have found out that we've been talking."

"Do you mind?" You chewed on your lower lip as you awaited the answer. Freddie didn't sound too worried, but still, probably better to ask.

"Eh, not really" Then came the cautious question from him too: "Does it bother you?"

You took a moment to really think about it. Maybe it should have bothered you. Especially considering the fact that this was still so new with you two. Still, you couldn't find it in you to worry about it right now. You were far too happy for that.

"No. It probably had to come out somehow. Even if it was quicker than I thought. For hockey players, they're surprisingly smart."

Freddie's laughter rang out from the line. It made you miss seeing the little crinkles form around his eyes. "I'll tell them you said that”, he warned.

"Tony called today."

"Tony? From equipment?" Immediately you could hear Freddie perk up.

As if you knew another Tony.

"Uh-hu. You still have space in your car for one more person?" You let yourself fall backward onto your bed as you gave him a few moments to understand what you were saying.

A few seconds of silence and then a cautiously hopeful: "Yeah?"

"Just so I’m not almost late again, obviously." The corners of your mouth slowly began to pull into a grin.

"Really? Does that mean...?" The joy in his voice only made your grin widen.

"I'm employed. Permanently this time. Not just temporary."

Even as you heard the news from Tony himself, you could barely contain your happiness. As soon as you'd hung up, you'd jumped so loudly that even Jane had come out of the next room.

"That's fantastic!"

You couldn't even put into words how incredibly happy you were just then. The only thing that would’ve made the moment better was if you could have hugged Freddie at that moment.

–

Before you knew it, the day of the third and final game of the road trip had arrived. As you watched the game on the side while you prepared your dinner, you had a good feeling.

The first period wasn't ideal, but it wasn't disastrous either. The second period started with a goal for the Canes. You jumped up and down enthusiastically, broccoli in hand.

After that, it was all downhill. At the end of the second 20 minutes, the Canes were already 2 goals behind. Two more goals followed. Freddie got pulled in the last 5 minutes. You could almost feel his frustration through the screen as he went down the tunnel.

At that moment, you wished you could’ve been there. How much you would’ve liked to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be okay.

You hesitated for a moment before sending a text. You definitely didn't want to annoy him. A text could never really express the comfort you wanted to give him, but it felt even worse not to write anything.

You tried not to think too much about it when you still hadn't heard back after half an hour. He was probably busy with his post-game routines. After all, they were set to travel back today and arrive late tonight. Surely, he would reply on the plane.

–

It was pure coincidence that you were looking at your phone at that exact moment. Of course, you hadn't been checking for new messages every 5 minutes all evening. Who would do that? Definitely not you. (There were at least 6 and a half minutes on average between each time you checked your phone.)

So, it was definitely a complete coincidence that you were able to read the text the minute it flashed up on your phone.

It was just two short lines. An address.

It wasn’t even a question if you should go. Before you could even really think about it, you had already grabbed your jacket and put on your shoes.

As you closed the front door, your cell phone beeped with another message.

‘Only if you want to. Might not be in the best mood tonight.’

An obvious offer of a way out. As if you hadn't been waiting for this the whole evening. As if the thought of seeing Freddie again in just a few minutes didn't give you butterflies in your stomach.

Your heart broke a little at how uncertain the texts sounded, as if you hadn't missed him for the last few days.

Excitement tingled in your fingers as you finally stepped into the elevator to Freddie’s apartment. It had been a short drive.

The door swung open. Freddie was standing in front of you. For a moment, you just looked at each other silently, then he literally pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you sank into his arms.

You buried your face in his sweater. The warmth of his body and his familiar scent enveloped you. You could’ve stayed like this forever.

Freddie pressed a gentle kiss into your hair before holding you just a little tighter.

It was the rumbling of his stomach that finally separated you. Even though Freddie was reluctant to let you go, you shooed him into the apartment. He shouldn't have to starve because of you. Who knows when he’d last eaten before the flight?

Freddie apparently understood what you wanted from him and so he led you through the entrance area into the open kitchen. There was already a pot on the stove, some kind of pasta in it. Next to it was a pan of chopped vegetables.

While he took a large wooden spoon and stirred it slowly, you jumped onto one of the counters and sat down. Given your height and the height of the counters, which were definitely adapted to Freddie, it wasn't as easy as you thought, but the twitch in the corner of Freddie's mouth made it worth the effort.

From your position, you could watch Freddie. How his movements were all a little too choppy and the tense line in his shoulders. How he put the spoon down too hard on the counter. How he didn’t raise his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault." You said quietly.

Freddie exhaled in disbelief. He didn't look up at you.

Only when you reached out a hand for him did he come closer. He propped himself up with his arms on both sides of you, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

"Even though you might not believe me just yet, it wasn't your fault," you repeated, hoping that your words would get through to him eventually.

One arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other you let run slowly through his hair.

"You did everything you could. It just wasn't your game. Can't win them all."

He let it pass for a moment, then took a deep breath. He turned his head. With a quick kiss against your neck, he pulled away from you.

"Thank you." He couldn't quite meet your gaze, but you still saw his words for what they were. Not just a thank you for right now, but the texts, the coming over, all the times before that.

"Nothing to thank me for," you confirmed. Freddie shook his head lovingly.

Nevertheless, he probably decided not to disagree for the moment. Instead, he took a plate from the cupboard. Silently he held it out to you, but you shook your head. You’d already eaten.

While Freddie ate, you sat beside him on the sofa. Your legs pressed together with soft music playing in the background for company.

When Freddie got up to take his plate back to the kitchen, you watched him.

Until he came back you hadn't moved from your seat, but apparently, Freddie was no longer satisfied with your previous seating arrangement. With a little shifting around, he finally settled behind you.

His legs were on either side of you, his back against the couch cushions, your back against his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, drawing slow circles into your side. The other hand was intertwined with yours on your lap.

Your words were quiet. You talked about the last few days, hockey the topic you both ignored. While you told him about the cute dog you'd seen while going grocery shopping, Freddie about something funny one of his teammates had done at team breakfast.

So much more important than your conversations, however, was the fact that you were together at that moment. You enjoyed the closeness; the body heat that radiated from him and slowly made you sleepy.

Every once in a while, Freddie took turns in gently kissing your temple and your forehead. Each time you sank a little more against him.

–

"Happy New Year," Freddie murmured. His arms around your waist pulled you closer to him.

"Happy New Year," you whispered back against his lips. With your hands on the back of his neck, you reached up for a kiss.

Even after all these years, you still weren't tired of it. Hopefully, you’d never be.

#hockey imagine #hockey fic #frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen x f!reader #nic writes #winter fic exchange 2k24 #winter fic exchange

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laurenairay · 1 year

Text

I’ll always guide you home - F. Andersen

Summary: Three years into dating Freddie Andersen, and Karla Nielsen still gets butterflies.

Words: 1.6k

This is my fic for @callsign-denmark’s birthday bingo! I chose the bingo squares surprises, anniversary, free space (‘Christmas’), “Say it again”, and learning to cook, as well as a few other of your favourite things (including our favourite fridge Freddie), so I really hope you like this!

Warnings: fluff, sugary sweetness, christmas in july.

Title: Never gonna let you down, by Colbie Caillat.

“Happy three years elskede.”

Beloved. Karla couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face at the sound of her boyfriend’s rumbling voice, giggling as he slid his arms around her from behind, resting her hands on the kitchen counter next to the Christmas gift tags she’d been writing.

“Good morning to you too,” she grinned, tilting her head up for a kiss, “and happy anniversary.”

Freddie hummed happily to the Mariah Carey music playing quietly in the background as he ducked his head to kiss her, Karla just leaning into his body with a smile. Three years with this man and his sweet little kisses still thrilled her every time. He eventually pulled away after one final peck to her lips, burying his face in her long dark hair with another happy hum.

“You weren’t in bed when I woke up,” he murmured, words muffled, “Was worried until I smelled something amazing.”

Oh that sweet sweet man.

Karla turned around in his arms, resting both hands on his chest as she smiled up at him reassuringly, the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree only serving to highlight his messy red hair. He really had just rolled out of bed, hadn’t he?

“I just wanted to do something nice for you, that’s all.”

“Something nice for me?” he asked, confused.

“Well, yeah, it has been three years,” she said simply, smile not shifting.

“I don’t…I…”

Karla just giggled at his shocked stammering, patting his chest in a ‘there there’ motion. There wasn’t much that could surprise her boyfriend, she knew that after all this time, so it felt good to be able to keep him on his toes at least a little bit.

“You’re right that something smells good. I…I’ve been learning to cook some traditional Danish dishes recently, and I know how much you miss home around this time of year, so I wanted to make something that you love.”

While her father was Danish himself, he’d emigrated to the US not long after college and hadn’t really shared his home traditions with Karla and her brothers growing up. It had only really been since meeting Freddie that she had delved into her unknown heritage, trying to learn a little more each day. After connecting with her grandmother back in Aarhus, she’d been sent a recipe that even she couldn’t mess up as a novice – klejner. Little twists of fried dough dusted in powdered sugar. Simple but sweet, and something that she knew Freddie loved as a Christmas treat.

“What did you make me?”

“Well let’s see if it’s recognisable first,” she mused.

Freddie huffed out a laugh but nodded, so Karla turned around once more to open the oven door where the oven dish had been warming. Freddie took a step back to give her some room, and when she pulled out the dish with her oven mitts, his jaw dropped slightly, eyes shining in a way she hadn’t expected.

“You made klejner for me?” he asked, eyes wide.

“I tried at least?”

“You are…my god Karla, no-one’s ever done something like this for me. And like, I know you’re half Danish but this is…wow,” he murmured.

“It’s a good surprise then?” she asked hopefully, setting the dish down on the kitchen counter.

“It’s the best surprise,” he nodded, “Tak. Thank you. You’re…incredible.”

But then he cleared his throat, a look of disbelief on his face for a moment as he stared at the dish, before he smiled softly at her.

“Okay, wait there. I’ve got to get something.”

Before Karla could even ask him what was going on, he power-walked out of the kitchen, leaving her staring after him in confusion. What the hell? She knew in her gut that he wasn’t mad at her because he left the room with a smile, but this abrupt behaviour was odd, even for him.

Maybe he was just giving her a Christmas present early? There were still two weeks to go…but she honestly couldn’t think of what else, what ‘something’, he could possibly be getting right now that couldn’t wait.

In the end, as she heard him rustling around in their bedroom, she took the time to put the klejner onto a Christmas plate that her mom had sent her – a subtle one, snowflakes and a winter woodland scene, unlike some of the garish reindeer and snowmen ones she knew her mom owned for herself – and by the time she’d put the original oven dish in the sink to soak, she could hear Freddie walking back. So she braced herself against the kitchen counter again, apprehension filling her body in a way that she couldn’t control, but she still managed to push a hesitant smile onto her lips when he boyfriend’s large frame filled the doorway.

He looked a little frazzled, eyes a little wild and hair even messier than earlier like he’d been running his fingers through it, making her swallow heavily. What was going on? What was affecting him like this?

“You know that I love you, right?” Freddie said softly, eyes serious.

“I do…but say it again,” she said, teasing slightly to break the tension a little.

The tense air between them eased just as she hoped when Freddie cracked a smile and ducked his head briefly, before looking back at her with such warm emotion that butterflies erupted in her stomach. The things this man did to her.

“I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. Every morning that I wake up with you in my arms, I know I’m the luckiest man in the world, and every morning we have to be apart I count the hours until I come back home to you. I’ve never felt like this for anyone, and I know I never will.”

“Freddie…” she murmured, trailing off as his sweet words overwhelmed her.

He took the chance to walk across the room, stopping a few feet away from her, and he held out both hands for her to step forward and take – which she did. There was something in the intensity of his gaze that made her blue eyes fill with tears. The way he looked at her - no-one else had ever looked at her like that, like she was their everything and more.

She remembered the way he had smiled at her when they first met, not too unlike how he was smiling at her now. A mutual friend had introduced them, had convinced both of them to go on a blind date because they were sure she and Freddie were ‘perfect’ for each other…and they’d been right. Ever since that first coffee date, there had been no-one else for her, and the rest was history. And here they were now.

“Karla. Elskede. The woman I love for so many reasons that I can’t possibly name them all,” he said softly.

She laughed, feeling a little incredulous, a smile tugging at the corner of Freddie’s lips.

“You made me klejner, on our anniversary. You put so much effort into something that you knew would make me happy, just like you always do. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I hope that I get to prove to you every day how much I appreciate it. How much I am never going to take you for granted. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

As Nat King Cole’s voice filled their home, Karla watched as Freddie dropped her hands and stepped backwards…to kneel down on one knee. It felt like her world was in slow motion as he reached into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out the most beautiful white gold ring she’d ever seen, three square diamonds dotted across the top of the band. It was stunning. It was delicate. It was…Freddie?

“Karla Nielsen, will you marry me?”

Despite his shaky voice, Karla could tell by the emotion in his voice that he’d been planning this for a while. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to marry her.

“Okay you beat my surprise by a mile,” she giggled, voice thick with tears as well as more tears trickling down her cheeks.

“It wasn’t my intention I promise,” he said, huffing out a laugh.

It was all Karla could do to lean down where he was kneeling and press her lips to his in a slow intense kiss, feeling Freddie’s breath catch in his throat before she pulled away.

“Is that a yes?” he asked softly, hopefully.

“Jeg elsker dig så meget, min kære,” Karla said sweetly. I love you so much, my dear. “Of course it’s a yes.”

Her heart clenched in her chest as Freddie choked out a sob, but the moment that he smiled widely at her, sliding the ring onto her left hand, complete disbelief on his face like he hadn’t even thought about getting this far, the widest smile spread across her face too.

“Get up here and kiss me,” she murmured.

Freddie wasted no time in doing as she asked, cupping her face with both hands as he kissed her deeply, Karla clutching at his t-shirt for stability when he pushed her against the kitchen counter, the world fading out around her as his embrace consumed her body and soul. Freddie had proposed. Freddie had asked her to marry him. Freddie wanted to be her husband. Freddie wanted her to be his wife. And she’d said yes.

Merry Christmas to her.

Tagging a few people who might like this: @sorryjustafangirl, @myhockeyworld87, @starshine-hockey-girl, @2manytabsopen, @typical-simplelove, @wyattjohnston, @thebookofmags, @cellythefloshie, @senditcolton, @fallinallincurls, @jostyriggslover96

#my writing #frederik andersen fic #freddie andersen fic #birthday bingo fanfictions #frederik andersen fanfic #frederik andersen imagine #frederik andersen x oc #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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ilyasorokinn · 1 year

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Hi, this is your summer fic exchange anon!!

1. So based off of the players and themes you selected:

(Themes: reader insert or OC (please refer to bio). fluff, hurt/comfort, angst - with a happy ending. Players: Frederik Andersen, Tyson Jost, Andrei Svechnikov, Elias Pettersson, Joel Farabee, Nick Blankenburg, Nico Hischier), do you have a specific set preferences in mind (Ex. you would really prefer if I wrote for Joel Farabee/you would prefer anything fluff) or could I just pick any of these things for the story?

2. I like to write based off of songs so do you have any specific songs (or artists) in mind or could I pick any song?

3. Do you prefer for the fic to be set in the summer or it doesn't matter to you when the story is set?

4. Do you like already established relationship stories or do you prefer a story that establishes the relationship?

5. What’s your dream career if you have one? I like to personalize my stories as much as possible

Thank you :)

hi! i’m so excited!!

okay, players wise i’m open to any, but specifically probably blanks or freddie.

my favorite artist are taylor swift, harry styles, gracie abrams, phoebe bridgers and the 1975 (i feel really basic saying that lol).

season of the story doesn’t matter to me, it’s up to you!

i like established relationship a little more

and my dream career is either something in sports or medicine (like paramedic or something)

thank you! i can’t wait to see what you come up with!!

#ask taylor #taylor answers

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

i like the red

Requested: 🙅‍♀️

Summary: “What do you think?” you giggled “I mean,” he chuckled, “it’s a little big.” You scoffed, lifting your arms to play with the oversized sleeves that fell over your hands, “I thought that might happen. But the question now is: do you like the red?”

Warning: fluff, smut; as far as my smut goes this one is pretty explicit so absolutely don’t read if you’re not over 18.

Author’s Note: So I had this conversation with, I believe, @canesjedi31, months ago about how good looked in the Carolina Red and I wanted to write a short little smut one-shot for it. It started off really fluffy and then it took a turn somewhere in the middle and it ended up being... this. I really like the red on him but he looks so incredibly hot in the black ‘Take Warning’ jersey’s. Anyway! I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long and thank you for even wanting me to come back. I hope you guys enjoy this one and I should have another one up soon! Stay Golden, my loves! <3!

masterlist

the other masterlist

“I gotta tell you, babe,” you said, holding up Freddie’s new Carolina Hurricanes jersey, “I wasn’t sure that I would like the red. Maybe because I got used to seeing you in the blue all the time but you know, I like the red”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, how do you think it would look on me?”

“Let’s find out.” He grinned, nodding at you to put it on, leaning against the wall as he watched you strip off your clothes before slipping into his red sweater that quickly became a dress on you

“What do you think?” You giggled, outstretching your arms playfully before placing your hand under your chin and smiling as you waiting his response

“I mean,” he chuckled, “it’s a little big”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, lifting your arms to play with the oversized sleeves that fell over your hands, “I thought that might happen. But the question now is: do you like the red?”

“I do”

“Then I guess we’ll stick with it for a while” you joked. It didn’t take long until he was rushing toward you before quickly lifting you onto the bed and tossing you against the pillows, letting a giggle escape your lips before Freddie pressed kisses down your neck. You moaned into his ear as his hands moved up your thighs, pushing up the jersey slowly and squeezing your hips as he continued pressing kisses on your collarbone.

“Freddie…” you whined, eliciting a smirk from the large Danish goaltender on top of you, your fingers trailing across his broad shoulders playfully before tugging at his shirt

“What do you want baby?” He whispered in your ear before you pulled his shirt up, feeling his warm skin under your hands as you did so, humming when his lips finally met yours. You parted only once for the soft fabric of his t-shirt to pass over his head, leaving him to press his chest against yours. “What do you want?” He repeated, a touch of intensity coating his words as he brought your arms over your head, pinning your wrists together with his left hand while the fingers on his right circled your clit slowly. You bit his bottom lip as he continued his movements, smiling at his moan as you pulled away

“Fuck,” you breathed heavily as he pressed his finger harder against your nub and he nipped at your neck, “fuck me, Freddie”

“I don’t know,” he teased, “I think I want you to squirm for a bit first; I want to see how many times I can make you cum before I fuck you.” For maybe the first time in your relationship, a blush covered your cheeks and you felt as though you needed to prepare yourself for what was to come. When he noticed your eyes open, he smirked before kissing behind your ear, his lips making their way across your jaw to your lips and you hesitantly kissed him back; gasping suddenly when he pushed his forefinger inside you

“Mmm,” you hummed, biting your lip and digging your nails into his shoulder, “oh my god...”

“How does that feel?” he smirked

“Fuck” was all you could reply

“Tell me how it feels” he insisted, pushing his finger deeper inside you

“Ah fuck, Freddie,” you screamed in surprise, “it feels so good”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm hmm” you hummed in return

“You want more?”

“I want you”

“Not yet”

“Freddie...” you whined

“Not yet” he repeated, nipping at your jaw as you arched your back, “more?”

“More” you breathed. Freddie added his middle finger, his thumb pressing on your clit with each breath you took and you could feel your legs beginning to shake under Freddie’s frame

“Cum (Y/N),” he whispered and you moaned when he curled his fingers inside you, “cum baby”

“Fuck” you squealed as you finally let yourself go, bringing your hand up to your forehead to compose yourself. He kissed your cheek as he took his fingers out of you, bringing them up to lick them clean

“We’re not done yet”

“Babe, I can’t feel my legs...”

“It’s a good thing you’re not going anywhere then” he laughed

“Freddie please” but you couldn’t change his mind, he’d already started kissing down your body, wrinkling the still-present jersey that covered your naked body, pushing it up as if it were in his way

“I can’t help it,” he smirked, his head between your thighs, “you just taste too good.” His hand snaked up to your breast while he kissed your inner thighs and, out of habit, you put your hand on top of his, pushing his hand onto your breast, causing him to tighten his grip and garnering a moan from you. You kept your hand on his as he flattened his tongue on your folds, gripping your hip with his free hand

“Fuck” you whispered, more to yourself than to Freddie, because the stimulation was beginning to be too much. You arched your back once more and he moaned into you, causing vibrations to course through your body, “FREDDIE!” you exclaimed, finally letting go of his hand and gripping the sheets near your hips. He moved his hand from your breast to your core, entering two fingers into you as he sucked on your clit, obscenities continuing to leave your mouth as he worked his ministrations on you.

“You’re so wet, elske” he said when he looked at you in sheer pleasure

“Fuck Freddie,” you said between heavy breaths, “fuck me, baby, please”

“Not yet”

“Please”

“Are you gonna cum?” you nodded in return and he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your hips bucking up leading him to hold you down until you came.

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” you asked, biting the tip of your finger when he finally looked at you, shaking his head as he stood up to grab a damp cloth to clean you up a little, “why not?”

“I told you,” he replied, “I need to see how much you can cum before I let you fuck me”

“Before you let me fuck you?” you scoffed, sitting back on your forearms weakly, watching him smirk as he slowly dragged the warm, damp cloth across the inside of your thighs and up your folds, your legs shaking at his touch

“You’re still sensitive, huh?” you wanted to lie but you couldn’t, “turn around”

“What?” you said nervously as he finally took off the oversized jersey, revealing your naked body and you could see his eyes focus on your peaked nipples

“Turn around” he repeated, but his voice was soft so you agreed, keeping your eyes focused on his before you completely turned around. He moved your hair to the side so he could kiss the side of your neck as he made sure you were comfortable; this wasn’t something the two of you did often but, when you did, he wanted to make sure you were relaxed. “I love you” he said calmly before kissing down your spine and you heard the tell-tale sign of your bullet vibrator. He moved the vibrator across your bare bum, intermittently kissing your skin, paying special attention to the back of your thighs

“I love you, too” you said softly, biting the inside of the corner of your lip as you felt him increase the speed of the toy he’d now moved between your legs. You took a sharp inhale as he moved the vibrator to your hole, circling the rim and increasing the speed once more until he heard you moan, gently moving it inside you and allowing his fingers to slide up and down your slit. Freddie moved back up your body to kiss your neck, his hands still working hard below, “fuck” you said into the pillow, burying your face as to not be too loud

“How does it feel?”

“So good”

“More?”

“Mmm mmm,” you shook your head into the pillow, “I don’t think I can handle more”

“Okay,” he whispered, kissing your earlobe, letting the vibrator do a little more work while he took his finger away. It wasn’t much later that you came again and you lazily sunk into the mattress and Freddie moved beside you, kissing your shoulder while you rested. When you heard him get up, you wanted to follow him; to fall against his chest in the shower or hug him from behind as he filled a glass of water in the kitchen but you couldn’t gather enough strength to turn over much less walk to wherever he was.

“Freddie?” you called, not sure it was loud enough for him to hear

“I’m here, baby,” he smiled when he saw you in the same position he’d left you in, placing a glass of water on the side table, “how are you doing?”

“Can we just sleep for a minute?”

“We can” he replied and you smiled at you, tilting your head back enough to signal him to move forward

“I love you” you whispered, kissing his nose when he was close enough to you

“I love you, too.”

#nhl #hockey #frederik andersen #freddie andersen #carolina hurricanes #frederik andersen imagine #frederik andersen smut #nhl smut #freddie andersen imagine #freddie andersen smut #frederik andersen fluff #freddie andersen fluff

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stardusttkachuk · 3 years

Note

I got one for blurb requests!! From List 2 - #82 (maybe 82 too, since they work together.) with Freddie? (or beau, or someone else I don't know!) just love the idea!

82. Learning their native language (if you don’t know it) so that you can speak with their friends and family.

A/N: I used google translate for the phrases. I don't speak danish (though deeply wish I did) so any errors are thanks to google. Translations are listed here:

Jeg er så glad for at du er her - I'm so glad you're here.

Også mig - me too

Det er dejligt endelig at møde dig - it's nice to finally meet you

overraskelse - surprise

Jeg elsker dig - i love you

----

"You alright?" Freddie asked. He must've noticed the way you tensed when the plane started moving.

You'd been on several flights before, following him to certain games, vacations with him, even before meeting him you'd flown to different places. But this was a long trip, and a very important one at that.

You and Frederik were flying to Denmark, where you'd be meeting his family. You had spoken to them a few times, and unofficially met them over FaceTime, but this would be the first in person meeting. To say you were nervous was an understatement.

You nodded, holding onto his outstretched hand. "Nerves," you said.

"For the flight?"

"And meeting your family."

Freddie furrowed his brows. "You've met them."

"Yeah. I mean, we've FaceTimed them. But I've never met them in person."

He shrugged. "They already love you. You have nothing to be nervous about."

---

Freddie's mom was there to pick you up when you landed in Herning and spent the entire ride to the house getting to know you, hardly ever talking to Freddie besides a simple 'hello' and 'it's good to see you'.

His little brother was the first to greet you both at the door, immediately running to hug Frederik. Within a few seconds, he had moved on to hug you.

"Jeg er så glad for at du er her," he said.

"Ah. Valdemar, Y/N doesn't speak--"

"Også mig," you said, patting the younger boy on the back. "Uh.. det er dejligt endelig at møde dig"

The smile on Valdemar's face stretched from ear to ear. And Frederik's jaw was nearly on the floor. Besides a few phrases, Frederik hadn't taught you much of his native language. However, you'd taken it upon yourself to learn as much as you could before meeting his family.

Freddie wrapped his arm around your shoulders when his little brother had run off. "I didn't think you spoke danish," he said.

"Not fluently. I've been practicing though. In preparation for finally meeting your family and coming here."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple. "I would've loved to have known this. I could've helped."

"I wanted it to be a surprise. So... overraskelse."

Freddie chuckled. "Jeg elsker dig"

#b's end of summer blurbs #freddie andersen #frederik andersen #freddie andersen x reader #frederik andersen x reader #freddie andersen blurb #frederik andersen blurb #freddie andersen fluff #frederik andersen fluff #hockey #nhl #hockey blurb #hockey fluff #nhl blurb #nhl fluff

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retrocelly · 5 years

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Do you think Freddie Andersen is a protective bf? Like I can see him being the more silent protective type like he would always have an arm gently placed on your back. And like he would never tell guys to back off from you but his eyes would be shooting daggers into anyone who would try to mess with you

yeah I see him as someone who’d just use his size and general presence to tell someone to back off. like if some guy was bothering you, freddie would just step in front of you and stare the guy down to get him to leave. he’s such a big guy that he doesn’t really need to say or do much in order to keep you safe

thirst day!

#freddie andersen #frederik andersen #freddie andersen fluff

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raindrop-dewdrop · 6 years

Text

Sunday morning

Summary: just a fluffy little freddie blurb

A single stream of light crept through the dark curtains and fell across your face. Freddie watched you stir in your sleep with a loving smile on his face. He loved you like this, knocked out sleeping with your mouth open, your hair an absolute mess, his t-shirt you wore to bed wrinkled and twisted around your body.

Just as he was getting comfortable watching you, his phone started to ring. He looked down and saw that it was the alarm he had set to wake you up so the two of you could have breakfast together before his morning skate. Frowning, he gently shook your shoulders to wake you up.

"Hey wake up. Baby wake up. C'mon get up baby." Freddie whispered, trying to coax you out of your peaceful slumber. His soft morning voice did nothing for his cause, he started peppering kisses across your face and down your neck until he reached the junction of your neck and shoulder which happened to be the most ticklish spot on your body.

Freddie knew exactly what he was doing, you jolted up laughing and squirming away from him. He was too face and strong for you. Before you knew what was happening your arms were pinned at your sides and Freddie continued his oral assault on your neck. You were practically screaming with laughter and after awhile freddie had to stop because you sounded like you were dying. He sat up, pulling you with him and kissed you like you hung the stars every night.

"Is this how you wake people up freddie? I could've had a heart attack." You teased while nuzzling into his neck, rubbing your face against his rough facial hair. He was rubbing circles on your back and still chuckling at your dramatic laughter.

"You're fine min lille blomst. C'mon lets get some breakfast before my skate." Freddie mumbled to you before picking you up and carrying you into the kitchen to enjoy some waffles and coffee.

#freddie andersen imagine #freddie andersen #frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #freddie andersen fluff

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unluckyhoneybee · 2 years

Text

NHL Fics. The Masterlist.

Here are all the fics I have written about hockey. (🌻-> my favourites)

Ryan Graves.

Gentle (smut)

Trevor Zegras.

The Sister (fluff)

Freddie Andersen

Work (angsty)

Marry you (angsty)

Jamie Drysdale

Awkward (fluff)

Quinn Hughes

Baby Hughes, Part 2. (fluff)

Willy Nylander

Five times (f+s+a)

Mikko Rantanen

Cale's Best Friend (fluff)

Arber Xhekaj

Tattoos and other stuff (smut)

Nolan Patrick

You are so mean (a+f)

Quiet room (fluff)

Auston Matthews

I want you back (fluff)

A big brain (angsty to fluff)

Pyotr Kochetkov

All the pretty girls (angsty to fluff)

Andrei Svechnikov

Stitches (fluff)

Connor Dewar.

It will work (fluff)

#Masterlist.#fic

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

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So here’s my post for @callsign-denmark's Birthday Bingo 🤗 Naturally, I had to choose my beloved Frederik Andersen ❤️

I know this is also part of my 500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL, but I thought, why not combine the two celebrations ✨🥂 I really hope you like it, love! And, of course, HAPPY BIRTHDAY for the 13th 🥳🥳

[In short, this is basically 'just' a series of events that I imagine it could be like dating Freddie - but I still hope it's an enjoyable read]

➼｡ﾟ

Summary: The journey of Frederik and Olive wasn’t as straightforward as Olive had hoped—however, on her wedding day, reflecting on it all, she can’t help but smile as she tells their story 🤍

Bingo; Wedding, “Please stay”, comfort, learning to skate, Free space: heartache

Tropes & warnings; strangers to lovers, soulmates, heartache, fluff, angsty romance, happy ending; some smut 18+ (mildly described), penetrative sex (p in v)

Word count; 8K

➼｡ﾟ

“I am done. I'm done waiting for you." I Freddie Andersen

Present 2025 - The Wedding

Olive rose from her seat, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird in her chest. The soft, elegant fabric of her wedding dress whispered around her ankles as she glanced nervously at the sea of expectant faces before her. This was her moment, her wedding day, yet the spotlight felt uncomfortably bright.

In her hand, the delicate crystal glass held a few sips of champagne, a lifeline amidst her nerves; and beside her, a neatly handwritten speech, its words a testament to the journey she and her new husband had travelled together.

Just as she was about to speak, a reassuring warmth enveloped her; Frederik's hand, familiar and steady, rested gently on her lower back. His touch sent a wave of calm through her, grounding her in the present moment.

"You've got this, min skat," his voice, a soft murmur meant only for her ears, whispered encouragement.

Drawing strength from his presence, Olive closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself a moment to collect her thoughts. Then, with a deep breath, she opened her eyes again, her gaze steady and determined.

“Most of you here have probably already heard the story - or versions of the story - of how Freddie and I met," she began, her voice clear and steady, carrying across the room. "But what many of you don’t know is that, though it was definitely love at first sight, the journey of our love wasn’t exactly a straight path.”

Flashback to September 2021

Frederik Andersen had just settled into Raleigh, North Carolina, having joined the Carolina Hurricanes for the upcoming season. The city, with its Southern charm and vibrant hockey culture, presented a new adventure waiting to unfold. And while adjusting to a new place and team was both exciting and daunting, he relished the challenge ahead on the ice. The welcoming nature of the Hurricanes' fans and the supportive atmosphere of the organisation made the transition smoother, yet there was still an underlying pressure to prove himself.

Frederik was a formidable goaltender, and he knew it. With several years in the NHL on his CV, he had earned a reputation for his sharp reflexes, keen game sense, and unwavering composure under pressure. He occasionally allowed himself a pat on the back, reminding himself of his achievements, which included crucial saves in high-stakes games, accolades from his peers, and the respect of coaches and teammates across the league.

However, Frederik was also aware of his veteran status in the sport. At 32 years old, he was no longer among the young talents but counted among the experienced players. The whispers of time's relentless march were growing louder, and he often reflected on his journey: the countless hours of training, the injuries overcome, the sacrifices made. Each scar and accolade told the story of his perseverance and passion for the game.

The physical demands of hockey were always present. Frederik maintained a rigorous training regime, balancing on-ice drills with off-ice conditioning to keep his body in peak form. He worked closely with the team's trainers to ensure he could withstand the gruelling schedule of an NHL season. Despite the toll on his body, his love for the game remained undiminished.

And mentally, Frederik embraced his role as a leader and mentor to younger players. He took pride in guiding rookies, sharing insights from his years of experience, and helping them navigate the challenges of professional hockey. His wisdom and steady presence in the locker room were invaluable, fostering a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the team.

Yet, Frederik also found himself contemplating life beyond hockey, recognising the importance of a balanced life.

One evening, during a team dinner at one of Raleigh's top restaurants, Frederik found himself momentarily drawn to the bar. The atmosphere buzzed with the chatter of teammates and the clinking of glasses. The restaurant boasted an upscale ambiance and exquisite cuisine, with subdued lighting and elegant decor creating an intimate setting for conversations and laughter.

Approaching the bar, Frederik caught sight of a young woman who immediately captivated him. She moved gracefully, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders as she expertly mixed drinks. There was something mesmerising about her—a quiet confidence that caught his attention.

So, leaning casually against the bar counter, the goaltender offered a soft smile and requested, "A Whiskey Sour, please," speaking gently while subtly admiring the bartender's skilled movements. She responded with a professional smile and nodded, focusing on preparing his drink with practised ease.

And as she worked, Frederik couldn’t help but watch her every move. What started as simply observing a skilled bartender at work felt like watching an entertaining ballet performance, captivated by her beauty.

"Here you go, sir," she said in her gentle, sweet voice, interrupting Freddie’s train of thought as she slid the drink across the bar with a warm smile. "Please, enjoy."

"Thank you," Frederik replied simply, returning her smile before taking a sip of his drink. It was perfect, the balance of flavours just right. He savoured the taste, appreciating the craftsmanship, and allowed himself another moment to enjoy the woman’s captivating grace before returning to his table.

And throughout the evening, the usually composed hockey veteran couldn’t help himself, occasionally stealing glances at the bartender. He was so intrigued by her poise and how effortlessly she handled the bustling crowd. She exuded a calm demeanour, much like himself, as she attended to customers with a friendly manner.

Later that night, as Frederik made his way through the bustling restaurant towards the men's room, he overheard fragments of conversations—a blend of laughter, casual banter, and occasional complaints about the noise. And near the end of the bar, he noticed a waitress and the beautiful bartender fully engaged in a quiet discussion, their voices carrying over the background clamour.

"Ugh, I can't wait until this shift is over. These hockey jerks are so loud," sighed the waitress, deftly balancing a stack of empty glasses, her frustration evident.

The bartender chuckled softly, her voice tinged with amusement despite sharing the waitress's sentiment. "Yeah, seriously. They act like they own the place."

Frederik couldn't help but smile to himself at their candid remarks. It was refreshing to hear such honest commentary amidst the usual polite chatter and flattery he encountered; their authenticity was a stark contrast to the sometimes superficial interactions that came with his status as a professional athlete.

After inadvertently eavesdropping, Frederik continued on his way, the conversation between the waitress and bartender lingering in his mind. Then rejoining his teammates, he engaged in their lively discussions and good-natured teasing throughout the evening.

Yet, as the night progressed and the players prepared to leave, Frederik found himself unable to shake the thoughts of the bartender. Her directness, grace, and quiet confidence had made a profound impact on him. Despite not even knowing her name, he felt an inexplicable urge to discover more about her.

As he was about to leave the restaurant, though, he realised with disappointment that she had already left her post. And as he made his way home, he felt a twinge of regret for not taking action sooner.

Flashback continued

About a week later, Frederik found himself at an ice skating rink with some of his new teammates and their family members for an open event before the hockey season started. The rink resounded with laughter, the sharp cuts of skates on ice, and the occasional thud of someone falling. Children wobbled around with their parents' careful guidance, while teenagers zipped across, showing off their skating prowess. The atmosphere was vibrant with infectious joy.

And gliding gracefully across the ice, enjoying the freedom and the cool breeze against his face, Frederik then spotted the bartender again. This time, though, she seemed a bit unsure on the ice, cautiously navigating with a few friends. They held onto each other for support, their faces lit up with both delight and mild apprehension as they tried to maintain balance.

Frederik couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat as he recognised her. He watched her for a moment, admiring the sparkle in her eyes and the clarity of her laughter amidst the rink's commotion. He could see her determination as she concentrated on staying upright, a mix of focus and joy that only enhanced her charm.

However, interrupted by Jarvy, Frederik shook his head and refocused on his teammates and friends. But a little while later, after signing several autographs, his mind was elsewhere as he made a few more rounds. Suddenly, he gently collided with someone, his larger frame absorbing most of the impact. Quickly reaching out to steady the person, Frederik's hands were firm yet gentle on their arms.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised reflexively, genuine concern evident in his eyes as he looked down, only to notice it was none other than the bartender he’d been so keen on watching earlier that day.

The bartender smiled sheepishly, her cheeks flushed from the unexpected encounter. "No, it's my fault. I'm just not that great at skating," she admitted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

Gracefully helping her steady herself, Frederik reminded himself not to let the moment pass. "I'm Freddie, by the way," he quickly introduced himself with a warm smile—perhaps a little too rushed, but he hoped to ease any awkwardness.

The bartender let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I know," she replied with a hint of playfulness in her voice. "You’re the goaltender for the Carolina Hurricanes."

"Right," Frederik sighed softly, slightly disappointed that this was the only reason she recognised him. Yet, just as he was about to say something else, she spoke again with a smile.

"And you were at the restaurant last week. I remember serving you a drink."

That made Frederik let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, with the rest of the hockey jerks," he said, recalling her remark, teasing gently and causing her to blush slightly.

"Oh right - gosh, I’m so sorry about that… It's not that we don't like you guys... it’s just… We were just really tired during that shift," she explained, feeling a bit embarrassed as she looked up at him, her eyes sincere.

But Frederik just shook his head. "No need to apologise. I get it," he reassured her, his smile comforting as he admired her honesty and the way she didn't shy away from the truth.

"Anyway, I won’t take up more of your time, Freddie. You’re busy with your hockey stuff—but I am sorry about the collision—and the comment last week," she offered him a smile.

But as she then began to carefully skate away, Frederik couldn't resist calling out, "Wait, what's your name?"

Turning her head, she replied with a smile, "Olive, but my friends call me Liv.”

He watched her rejoin her friends, her laughter and presence still standing out in the crowd. And from that moment on, Frederik found himself thinking about Olive's smile, her easy laughter, and the genuine warmth he felt in her presence.

Similarly, Olive couldn't shake off the impression Frederik had left on her. She had expected him to be like the rest—cocky and self-assured—but instead, she found him surprisingly humble and kind. His gentle demeanour and the way he had treated her with respect and kindness had caught her off guard in the best possible way.

And surprisingly, the universe seemed to conspire to bring them together, causing their paths to casually cross over the next few weeks.

Olive attended her first Hurricanes home game with her hockey enthusiast friends, who had also managed to arrange a meet-and-greet with some of the players for an autograph session before the match. The excitement of the crowd was palpable, and Olive quickly found herself swept up in the fans’ energy.

And naturally, among the players, Frederik was there, who immediately spotted Olive in the crowd. His heart raced as he instinctively made his way over to her, nerves bubbling up unexpectedly as he focused solely on her, ignoring everyone else around him.

"Hey, Olive," he greeted, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Oh hi, Freddie," she replied, her eyes sparkling with recognition.

The noise of the crowd softly faded into the background as they connected in a gaze. And completely captivated by Olive's charm, Frederik momentarily forgot his surroundings. She had a way of making him feel at ease, her laughter contagious and her insights thoughtful.

But then her friends approached, their jaws almost dropping as they realised Olive was actually on a first-name - well, nickname - basis with Frederik Andersen.

And Frederik couldn’t help but chuckle at their reaction. Yet, ever the professional, he quickly offered them autographs, followed by Olive taking photos of them.

“Hey, what about you, Liv?” one of her friends suggested.

“Oh no, that’s okay,” she timidly replied.

Frederik offered her a soft smile, trying his best to hide any hints of disappointment. However, her other friend pressed on and encouraged Olive to stand close to Frederik, prompting him to gently wrap his arm around her. “Come on, Liv! You know you want to.”

Olive felt slightly awkward standing next to the towering goaltender, yet she couldn’t deny how comfortable his presence felt. His body was warm against hers, his hand gently resting on her waist as they both smiled at the camera.

But their moment was fleeting as Frederik was then quickly called away to continue his obligations. Yet, just before parting ways, he gathered his courage and asked Olive out for coffee.

And naturally, she quickly accepted with a smile that lit up the room. They exchanged numbers, and as Frederik then walked away, he felt a sense of excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. The anticipation of their upcoming coffee date filled him with a warmth that stayed with him long after he had left the arena.

Flashback to October 2021

Frederik and Olive's first coffee date was nothing short of blissful. They sat across from each other in a cosy café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the warmth of their conversation. The café itself was charming, with exposed brick walls adorned with local artwork and soft jazz music playing in the background. And from the moment they started talking, time seemed to slip away unnoticed.

Frederik was genuinely fascinated by Olive's travels and her passion for writing. He listened intently as she animatedly described her favourite destinations and the stories she hoped to tell through her works. Olive's eyes lit up as she recounted her adventures in Paris, her quiet retreat in a small village in Tuscany, and the bustling markets of Marrakech. She shared stories of the characters she had met along the way, the inspiration they provided for her writing, and her dream of publishing a novel one day.

In return, Olive found herself captivated by Frederik's hockey experiences, his dedication to his craft, and the unwavering support of his family in his success. He shared tales from his childhood in Denmark, where his father first introduced him to the sport, and the journey that led him from local rinks to the NHL. Frederik spoke passionately about the thrill of his first professional game, the camaraderie among his teammates, and the sacrifices he had made to pursue his passion.

And as the evening drew to a close, neither of them wanted the night to end. They lingered outside the café, reluctant to part ways, with the city lights casting a soft glow around them, creating a magical atmosphere. Then with a shy smile, Frederik asked Olive if she would like to meet again.

"Definitely," she replied quickly, her heart fluttering with excitement.

And about a week later, they met for dinner at a quaint restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of Raleigh. The atmosphere was intimate, with flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their faces as they continued to talk and laugh effortlessly.

The restaurant's rustic charm, featuring wooden beams and vintage décor, added to the sense of intimacy as they discovered common interests and a shared sense of humour that strengthened their connection. They laughed over their mutual love for different cuisines, shared their favourite books and music, and debated quirky action films.

“No way,” Olive insisted. “Die Hard is NOT a Christmas movie.”

Frederik chuckled. “Well, it does take place during a Christmas party, and it’s listed under the category of Christmas classics on Disney+, so… that settles it.”

Olive shook her head. “Well, they seriously need to do some proper research then.”

From the moment they met, Frederik was charmed by Olive's wit and intelligence, while Olive admired Frederik's humility and genuine kindness. Their connection was undeniable, and neither felt any awkwardness or doubt as they spent hour after hour together.

However, as weeks turned into months, the demands of Frederik's hockey season took precedence. His schedule was filled with training sessions, games, and team commitments, leaving little time for leisurely dates and quiet moments with Olive. Days became a whirlwind of practices, strategy meetings, and travel for away games, and Frederik found himself constantly on the move, with little opportunity to catch his breath.

Despite his best intentions, maintaining regular contact with Olive became a challenge. Text messages went unanswered for hours, and plans for meet-ups were often postponed. Frederik knew he was letting her slip through his fingers, but the relentless pace of the season left him torn between his passion for hockey and his growing feelings for her.

Meanwhile, Olive began to feel uncertainty creeping in. While she cherished the moments they had shared and the connection they had formed, she couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined as the hockey season intensified. She tried to understand Frederik's commitments, but deep down, she couldn't help feeling neglected and unimportant.

Many evenings were spent alone, reminiscing about their time together, and Olive found herself drafting texts to him, only to delete them out of fear of appearing needy and clingy. The growing silence between them became deafening, amplifying her doubts and insecurities.

So, as weeks turned into months, Olive reluctantly started to distance herself emotionally. She convinced herself that their relationship was merely a fleeting romance—a beautiful chapter in her life, but not meant to last. She buried her feelings, telling herself that perhaps Frederik had never felt as strongly for her as she had hoped. Then turning to her writing, Olive used her emotions as fuel for her stories, seeking solace in her creative expression.

Their once vibrant connection began to fade, replaced by a bittersweet ache of what could have been. Despite sensing the shift in Olive's demeanour, Frederik felt powerless to bridge the growing gap between them amidst the demands of his career and the pressures of the season. He missed her laughter, her stories, and the way she grounded him, but changing the situation seemed beyond his control.

And as the hockey season reached its peak, Frederik and Olive found themselves drifting further apart, their love story seemingly slipping away into memories and what-ifs. The initial spark that had brought them together dimmed under the weight of unspoken words and missed opportunities, leaving both with a lingering sense of loss.

Flashback to December 2021

As Frederik had finally settled into his role within the team and achieved a better balance between his career and personal life, thoughts of Olive quickly returned to occupy his mind. It had been two months since their paths had diverged, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let something special slip away. Determined to make amends, he gathered his courage and reached out to her, hoping for an opportunity to reconnect.

To his surprise and relief, Olive agreed to meet him again. She approached this reunion cautiously, wary of opening herself up to potential hurt once more. Despite her reservations, she found herself unable to resist Frederik's gentle persistence and the lingering memories of their time together.

So, for their next outing, Frederik suggested ice skating, eager to make up for their awkward first encounter on the ice. Arriving at the rink with a mix of excitement and nerves, Olive felt a flutter of anticipation as she laced up her skates beside Frederik. He flashed her a reassuring smile, his warm honey-brown eyes filled with determination to make this experience memorable for both of them.

And sensing her slight struggles, Frederik then knelt before her, gently taking over to tie her skates properly. It felt almost like a Cinderella moment for Olive as she gazed down at Frederik, who effortlessly secured the laces. And she couldn't help but feel a rush of affectionate emotions within her.

"There you go," he interrupted her thoughts, looking up with a smile. "All sorted?"

Olive nodded eagerly, "Absolutely."

Then stepping onto the ice, Frederik took Olive's hand in his, his touch tender and supportive as he guided her patiently, explaining the basics of balance and movement. His voice became a comforting backdrop to the sounds of blades slicing through the ice.

Olive chuckled at her initial wobbles, finding reassurance in his encouraging words and steady grip. And as they glided across the rink together, Frederik led with the grace born of years spent on the ice, and Olive followed his lead, gaining confidence with each lap they completed. Their laughter mingled as they shared in the delight of their newfound rhythm, the awkwardness of their first attempt melting away in the warmth of their shared smiles.

After a few laps around the ice, they paused to catch their breath, leaning against the rink's railings. Frederik's eyes sparkled with admiration as he looked at Olive, proud of her progress and the passion she displayed for something he cherished deeply. They exchanged stories and laughter, savouring the simple pleasure of being together again in this moment of shared joy.

And by the end of their date, Olive felt a sense of achievement she hadn't anticipated. Not only had she improved her skating skills under Frederik's patient guidance, but she also felt closer to him than ever before. The spark of their connection had reignited amidst the playful banter and shared triumphs on the ice, leaving them both with a renewed sense of closeness and affection.

As they left the rink, hand in hand, she just couldn’t help but marvel at how Frederik had transformed what could have been a daunting experience into a cherished memory. Once again, she found herself drawn to his easy charm and genuine kindness. Yet, she guarded her heart, reminding herself that they were embarking on a fresh start—a new beginning without expectations of where it might lead.

Frederik felt a deep sense of contentment. The day had surpassed his expectations, not just in reigniting their connection but in reaffirming the bond they shared. So, as they strolled away from the rink, the night air crisp and filled with promise, he suddenly halted and spoke with confidence.

"Hey Liv."

"Yes, Freddie?"

But Frederik didn’t really need to say anything. Instead, with gallantry and genuine care, he simply stole a tender kiss from her—a gesture he had contemplated all day but hadn’t dared to attempt until he was sure she desired him as much as he desired her.

Needless to say, Olive eagerly returned the kiss with equal longing.

Fortunately, their next meeting came less than a week later, and this time it was at a Hurricanes home game in the PNC Arena. The atmosphere was tense as the team faced off against the New York Islanders, but despite their best efforts, the Canes suffered a disappointing loss. The crowd, which had been electric with anticipation all night, now buzzed with the sting of defeat as everyone gradually dispersed from their seats.

Frederik's emotions were raw after the game. He didn’t want Olive to witness his vulnerability so soon after reconnecting, to see him like that. But as she approached him in the corridor with a comforting smile, he couldn't resist the pull of her empathy and genuine care. So, instinctively, he pulled her into a tight hug, seeking comfort in her presence.

"Hey, you did amazing, Freddie," Olive said, looking up at him as he released his arms from around her smaller frame.

"I know," he sighed deeply. "But a loss is still a loss."

Olive tried her best to muster a smile in the face of disappointment. "Well, the good thing about hitting rock bottom is that at least it can't get any worse."

Frederik couldn’t help but let a smile appear on his lips, her words both comforting and amusing. And as they made their way out of the arena, Frederik insisted on driving Olive home, to which she happily accepted. However, neither of them wanted the night to end on a sombre note, so Olive invited him inside her apartment.

The small space was cosy and filled with personal touches—framed photos, shelves lined with books, and soft, ambient lighting that created an inviting atmosphere. And in the quiet intimacy of Olive's living room, they swiftly engaged in heartfelt conversations that ranged from hockey to their deepest aspirations and fears.

Olive shared her recent writing submission to the local paper, expressing her dreams of building a career beyond bartending and the fears that sometimes held her back. Frederik, in turn, opened up about the pressures of his career, the constant demand to perform, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead after his time in the NHL.

It was a tender evening marked by sensitive topics, and as their emotions lay bare, their connection only deepened, culminating in a tender kiss.

Surprising even herself, Olive let go of her reservations, allowing their kiss to deepen into something more passionate and consuming. In that moment, their physical desire mirrored the emotional intensity they had both been denying themselves for so long. Each touch and caress spoke volumes of their longing and the bond they shared.

Then with unspoken understanding and mutual consent, they moved to Olive's bedroom, where their bodies eagerly intertwined in an expression that transcended mere physical attraction. Frederik took his time undressing her, studying every curve of her body as his fingers gently explored her smooth skin, gradually exposing more of her.

Meanwhile, Olive found herself unable to suppress her desire for him. Each touch and caress ignited a deeper longing, and as she helped him discard his clothing as well, she savoured the feel of his muscles beneath her palms.

No words were necessary as their eyes locked in a tender gaze, a profound connection as Frederik positioned himself above her on the mattress. Then without hesitation, he lined himself up with her entrance and eased himself into her, causing moans to escape them both as their bodies joined together. With every movement, every thrust and kiss, the heat between them intensified. Their lovemaking was tender yet passionate, a culmination of deep, raw lust and heartfelt emotions for one another.

As they moved together in sync, quickening the pace and getting closer to the brim of ecstacy, their moans grew deeper and louder, names slipping off their tongues. Then with a few more final pounds, they managed to reach an intense climax together, a rush filling their minds as they breathed heavily and allowed euphoria to take over.

And in the serene aftermath, nestled in each other's embrace, Frederik and Olive found solace in the warmth of their connection, the steady rhythm of their breathing echoing softly in the room. As they drifted into sleep, intertwined and content, they realised they were no longer merely skirting around their emotions—they were diving headfirst into the depths of a love that had patiently been waiting.

Flashback to February 2022

Olive experienced every moment with Frederik Andersen as a whirlwind of emotions and passion. Their dates were filled with laughter, deep conversations, and an increasing sense of closeness that left her breathless. Day by day, she found herself falling deeper in love with him, his presence becoming both comforting and exhilarating in her life.

Their physical connection was undeniable, each touch igniting a fire within her unlike anything she had felt before, as Frederik's tender caresses and passionate embraces brought her to heights of pleasure she had only dreamed of. It was in those intimate moments, she felt a connection that went beyond the physical—a deep bond that whispered promises of forever.

Olive simply found herself completely in love and believed she had found her soulmate in Frederik. She cherished their time together, treasuring every stolen kiss and shared glance as precious moments. In his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and truly alive.

However, Frederik was struggling with his own internal battle. While he cared deeply for Olive, and possibly even loved her, he couldn't ignore the demands of his hockey career. And as their relationship grew, he felt torn between being a devoted boyfriend to her and giving his all to his training and team responsibilities.

So, after navigating this delicate balance for several months, which included sharing meaningful moments during the Christmas season, Frederik came to a painful realisation. He knew that continuing their relationship would mean sacrificing valuable time and focus on his career—a sacrifice he wasn't prepared to make.

And caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, Frederik wrestled with how to best handle the situation. Part of him considered reducing their time together, hoping Olive would understand his need to prioritise hockey. Yet, after agonising over the decision, he ultimately concluded that ending their relationship was the kindest option, sparing Olive from further heartache and disappointment.

With a heavy heart, Frederik then explained to her that he needed to focus on his career and couldn't give her the time and commitment she deserved.

Olive was completely blindsided by his decision. She had believed their love was deep and meaningful, capable of overcoming ayn challenges including his demanding career. So, naturally, the sudden breakup left her reeling with a mix of anger, betrayal, and heartbreak.

She struggled to understand how their seemingly profound connection could be discarded so easily. In her anguish, she felt deceived and used, convinced that Frederik had viewed her as a temporary distraction—a fleeting amusement with no lasting significance.

Beneath her hurt, anger simmered not only towards Frederik but also towards herself for believing so blindly in a love that seemed one-sided. Rejection wounded her deeply, shaking her self-worth and trust in her own judgement.

Despite the ache in her heart, Olive sought solace in the memories they had created—the laughter, passion, and genuine moments of connection. So, as she navigated the aftermath of their breakup, she made a solemn vow to protect herself from further heartache. She resolved to focus on healing, rebuilding her confidence, and learning to trust again—knowing that with time, the pain would ease and she would emerge stronger.

For now, however, the wound remained raw, and the weight of lost love hung heavily on her soul.

Flashback to April 2022

Months passed, and Olive gradually began to mend her broken heart. She tried to distract herself with casual flings and meaningless encounters in an effort to fill the void left by Frederik's abrupt departure. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to move forward, reminders of him persisted in her life.

As the goaltender for the city's beloved hockey team, Frederik Andersen was omnipresent in the media and among her friends, many of whom were avid fans. Olive couldn't escape reminders of him—the sight of his face on billboards, mentions of his name in conversations, and the ache in her heart whenever she watched him play.

Her mornings started with glimpses of him on TV highlights, a reminder of their shared passion for life. During lunches with friends, his name inevitably came up, forcing her to mask her discomfort with forced smiles and polite nods. Evenings brought photos of him on social media, where friends shared moments of his public life that she felt painfully excluded from.

Olive had never fully confided in her friends about the depth of her heartbreak, brushing off their gentle inquiries with a simple explanation that their relationship had ended due to his demanding schedule—partially true. However, her friends could see through her façade, sensing the pain that flickered in her eyes whenever Frederik's name arose. And their supportive embraces and silent understanding provided some solace amid the tumultuous emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

One evening, her friends managed to convince her to join them for another Hurricanes home game. By then, Olive had grown somewhat numb to the sharp sting of seeing Frederik on the ice, resigned to the ache in her heart that seemed to have taken up permanent residence.

And as the game progressed, Frederik focused on his performance and the team's objectives. Yet, during a break, as he came to scan the crowd, his gaze suddenly locked onto Olive's familiar face in one of the front rows. In that instant, the weight of remorse and regret crashed over him like a tidal wave.

When the final buzzer sounded, Frederik's resolve solidified. He knew he needed to speak to Olive, to apologise for the pain he had caused her. So, approaching her cautiously, his heart racing with nerves and determination, he messaged her asking if she could meet him in the locker room after the game.

But Olive couldn't face him so soon. The wounds were still fresh, the emotions raw. So, with a gentle yet firm refusal, she declined his invitation, unsure if she could maintain her composure in his presence.

Despite her reluctance, fate intervened yet again a few days later when Frederik found himself dining at the restaurant where Olive worked. And this time, their paths couldn't avoid crossing. Accompanied by friends, managers, and his agent, Frederik's presence made it impossible for Olive to avoid the unexpected - and perhaps awkward, encounter.

Hours passed as she watched him from the bar, her heart still aching. So ,seeking solace, Olive slipped out behind the restaurant for fresh air, but only to find Frederik following her.

"You shouldn’t be out here," she said firmly, crossing her arms as he approached gently.

"I needed to see you," he said softly, taking a small step forward.

"Freddie, please, I can’t do this..."

Despite her protest, Frederik moved closer to her. His expression was earnest, his eyes filled with regret and longing. And before she could object further, he pulled her into his arms with force, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that reignited a fire she thought had died.

Passionate and fueled by desire, the kiss brought forth unresolved emotions. Olive struggled against conflicting feelings, torn between past hurt and their undeniable chemistry. Yet, instinctively, her arms found Frederik’s neck, deepening the kiss.

And as the night unfolded, they found themselves back at Olive's apartment, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of longing and need. Their lovemaking was intense, a physical manifestation of the longing and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for months.

Just like many times before, it felt so effortlessly easy to allow their bodies to melt together. With Olive straddling Frederik, she moved with determination and deep breaths, their moans harmonising while approaching their climaxes.

Yet, in need for more closeness, Frederik swiftly turned them over into missionary, where he held his face close to hers, thrusting with force and vigorous motions till they both reached the peak in a symphony.

And in the aftermath of their passionate reunion, Olive found herself whispering those two words that held both vulnerability and hope: "Please, stay."

Frederik knew he shouldn't have stayed. He owed her honesty about where they stood. But in that moment, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her against him, he couldn't leave. She was the love he craved, the one person he couldn’t let go of.

So, they fell asleep together, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in shared intimacy.

However, when Olive woke the next morning, she found herself alone in bed. Frederik had left quietly, only leaving behind a simple message: "I'm sorry."

The words echoed in Olive's mind as she lay there, her heart aching with a familiar pain. She had allowed herself to hope for a second chance at love. Yet, Frederik's departure left her grappling once more with uncertainty and heartbreak, questioning if their love story was destined to be fleeting rather than enduring.

Flashback to May 2021

For seven turbulent months, Olive experienced the unpredictable highs and lows of love and heartbreak, all because of Frederik Andersen. She had tasted the bliss of their intense connection and endured the pain of his repeated departures. Despite the hurt he caused, she couldn't ignore the enduring love she still felt.

So, to heal her broken heart and move forward, Olive found solace in Colin—a dependable man who offered her security and the attention she craved. Their relationship blossomed, giving her the comfort and stability she had lacked during her tumultuous time with Frederik.

And immersed in this new relationship, Olive gradually regained her confidence and found moments of happiness. Colin was attentive, always ready to listen to her thoughts and dreams, in stark contrast to Frederik's unpredictable presence.

However, despite her growing affection for Colin, she couldn't completely erase Frederik from her heart. Memories of their passionate connection and emotional bond lingered, casting a shadow over her newfound stability. She wrestled with guilt, questioning the fairness of her lingering feelings for Frederik towards Colin.

So, navigating this emotional maze, Olive struggled with conflicting desires, torn between her past and present, unsure of where her true feelings lay.

But as always fate intervened one evening as Frederik unexpectedly saw Olive at a bar during a rare free night in Raleigh. Her laughter and smiles quickly caught his attention, stirring jealousy as he watched her with Colin, making him torn between bantering with his teammates and the painful realisation of what he had lost.

Every laugh, every touch between Olive and Colin felt like a dagger twisting in Frederik's chest, a reminder of the love he had let slip away. His heart ached with longing and regret, unable to bear seeing Olive move on without him.

And so, driven by desperation and needing to confront his feelings, Frederik sought a private moment with her. He found her in a quiet corner of the pub, softly lit by a nearby lamp, and reached out to gently grasp her wrist.

“Liv!”

"Freddie, please don’t!" Olive exclaimed firmly, trying to pull away, but he held on.

"I’m sorry, but I just can't bear to see you with someone else, please talk to me,” his voice cracked with emotion.

Olive's heart wrenched at the sight of Frederik, vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled against the surge of desire threatening to engulf her once more. But she knew she had to be strong, to protect herself from the pain he had unintentionally caused.

"No, Freddie," she protested, her voice trembling as she withdrew her hand. "I can't do this anymore."

Her words echoed through the corridor, a painful declaration of finality amidst the noise of the crowded bar. With tears streaming down her face, Olive turned away from Frederik, but he grabbed her arm again, preventing her from leaving.

"Just listen to me..." he pleaded softly, filled with anguish.

Frederik's heart shattered at her rejection. He tried to explain, to beg for another chance, to convey the depth of his feelings and the turmoil within him. But Olive had reached her limit. She could no longer wait for Frederik to prioritise their relationship over his career and uncertainties.

"I'm done, Freddie. I'm done waiting for you," she declared, her voice a mix of grief and determination.

And as she walked away, leaving Frederik alone in the corridor, he was consumed by profound loss and regret. For the first time, he truly felt the weight of his actions—the pain he had caused her, the love he had lost.

In that moment of clarity, Frederik understood the enormity of Olive's love and the depth of his mistakes. He had sacrificed the one relationship that had made him feel alive, and haunted by her words and his own regrets, he vowed to learn from his mistakes.

But for now, all he could do was stand there, grappling with the ache in his heart, knowing he had shattered the heart of the woman he loved the most.

Flashback Continued

The hockey season was reaching its peak, with the Carolina Hurricanes deeply entrenched in a pivotal playoff battle. Frederik Andersen, their dependable goalie, felt the pressure and nerves building as he prepared for the game that could define their postseason fate, as tonight wasn't just about a simple win or loss; it was about advancing to the next round or facing an early end to their season.

Frederik's mind buzzed with strategy and anticipation as he stepped onto the ice, the thunderous cheers of the home crowd echoing through the arena. Each save he made brought a rush of adrenaline, a mix of relief and determination to keep the Hurricanes competitive. Yet beneath his focused exterior, thoughts of Olive lingered—a poignant distraction that fuelled his drive to succeed while stirring up unresolved emotions.

Meanwhile, in the stands, Olive sat at the edge of her seat beside Colin, her gaze fixed on Frederik as he moved swiftly and decisively in goal. Her initial casual interest in hockey had evolved into genuine passion over the past many months, ignited by Frederik's skill and the intensity of playoff hockey. Despite her efforts to conceal it, Colin couldn't ignore the subtle changes in Olive's demeanour whenever the goalie made a crucial save or endured the disappointment of a goal against.

And as the game intensified and emotions ran high, Olive found herself torn between the thrill of the Hurricanes' offensive surges and the ache in her heart whenever Frederik faced relentless shots. She stole brief glances at Colin, aware of the unspoken tension between them—a delicate balance disrupted by Frederik's undeniable hold on her.

The Hurricanes fought fiercely, but midway through the third period, disaster struck as Frederik was substituted—a crushing blow for any goalie. His frustration was palpable as he slammed his stick on the rink railing on his way to the locker room, burdened by the weight of the team's playoff hopes.

And watching Frederik's despondent demeanour from the stands stirred a familiar ache in Olive's chest—a mix of empathy for his disappointment and a desire to comfort him. She felt torn, caught between her loyalty to Colin and the lingering emotions she still harboured for Frederik.

But then when the opposing team scored yet another goal, dashing any hope of a comeback, Olive's resolve wavered. Deciding on excusing herself from her seat, she made her way towards the locker room, driven by an irresistible urge to find Frederik amidst the playoff game chaos.

And navigating the familiar maze-like corridors of the arena, she finally reached the locker room area, where Frederik would be reflecting on his performance. The sound of subdued voices and equipment filled the air as she cautiously approached the doorway to the team's inner sanctum.

There he sat, alone in his stall, still clad in his gear, head bowed in contemplation. Yet, as he glanced up and saw Olive standing in the doorway, tears welling in her eyes, Frederik's heart skipped a beat.

"Liv," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with fragile hope.

Solid tears streamed down Olive's cheeks as she struggled to compose herself. She had come intending to offer comfort, but now as she was so close to him once more, she was overwhelmed by a rush of emotions—the months of shared memories, the lingering warmth of their connection, and the ache of their tumultuous past.

Frederik then swiftly rose from the seat and cautiously approached her. And with no words spoken, Olive instinctively rushed to close the distance between them, drawn to the familiarity and solace Frederik offered in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up in a close, desperate union that spoke of longing, regret, and unspoken love.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, her hands finding their way into Frederik's hair as she held him tightly, unwilling to let go.

Then breaking away from the heated kiss, they stood breathless. Olive knew she couldn't stay, couldn't betray Colin's trust, yet a part of her yearned to linger in Frederik's embrace forever.

"Please, stay..." Frederik pleaded, his voice filled with desperation and vulnerability. "Liv, I want you. I need you… I can’t be without you…"

Tears continued to stream down Olive's cheeks as she struggled with the torment of her conflicted emotions. "Freddie... I can't," she whispered hoarsely. "You'll just hurt me again..."

But Frederik held her tightly, his eyes pleading for her understanding. "No, not this time, Olive. I love you..."

"I love you too, Freddie," she simply confessed, her voice barely audible amidst the storm of emotions within her.

They sealed their renewed bond with another heartfelt kiss, but Olive knew she couldn't continue deceiving Colin. Despite the pain it would cause, she had to be honest with him about her feelings for Frederik. It wasn't fair to him, nor to herself, to deny the depth of her love for the man who had captured her heart months ago.

And as the Hurricanes faced an early playoff exit, Frederik and Olive sought solace in each other's arms that night, rekindling their passion amidst the echoes of disappointment.

Together, they embraced the uncertainty of their future, knowing that their love story was far from over—it was just beginning.

Present 2025 - The Wedding

Three years had passed swiftly, filled with love, challenges, and unwavering commitment.

As Olive concluded her heartfelt speech, basking in the applause from their friends and family, she couldn't suppress the radiant smile that spread across her face. While Frederik, her anchor and soulmate, sat beside her, his eyes filled with admiration and love.

The venue, adorned in soft hues of ivory and gold, resonated with the tender emotions of the occasion. And Olive's voice carried with a blend of sincerity and gratitude as she thanked their loved ones for their steadfast support and recounted cherished memories of their journey together. Her words were interspersed with laughter and tears, each moment affirming the depth of their bond.

Frederik knew he couldn't match Olive's speech with words alone. Despite help from loved ones in composing his own speech, he grappled with expressing the simplicity and sincerity that defined his feelings. So, rising from his seat, he briefly glanced at his notes, the inked words reflecting his devotion and the path they had walked together.

"I've never been one for lengthy speeches…" Frederik began, his voice steady with emotion. "And I'm sure many of you here know that. But that's okay, because..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "The only thing that truly matters, the only thing I need to say, is that... I love you, Liv. I have loved you from the moment I first saw you, even when I didn't trust myself to love." His gaze locked onto Olive's, their eyes meeting in a shared moment.

A reassuring smile spread across her face as she listened intently, her heart swelling with the weight of his words. Frederik’s voice grew stronger with each heartfelt sentence, resonating with the depth of their shared experiences. "I've never quite understood why you chose me," he continued, his tone filled with humility and adoration. "But I've stopped questioning it. What matters is that we chose each other. And I promise, with all my heart, to be the best husband I can be for you, for the rest of our lives."

Their love story wasn't a simple fairy tale romance devoid of challenges or imperfections. It was real, raw, and deeply meaningful—a journey marked by growth, forgiveness, and unwavering commitment. It was a testament to their resilience, having weathered every storm together, emerging stronger and more deeply in love each time.

The End

#500 followers festival #Birthday Bingo Fic Game #Birthday Bingo Fanfictions #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen imagine #freddie x olive #freddie andersen fic #carolina hurricanes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey fic

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princessphilly · 4 years

Note

For your prompt list, 10 with one of our favourite fridges Freddie Andersen? 😘

10. Afraid of falling knowing that I could never live without (Take Me Apart by Kelela)

also going to tag @phillyneenie who asked for more Freddie Andersen too

It was sobering, the moment you realized your heart was in Freddie’s hands.

It was the average Saturday off-night, one of the few Saturday nights the Leafs weren’t playing. They had played an afternoon matinee against the Flames and had won. However, instead of going out with the boys, Freddie had come home with you.

Right now, you were curled into him as the little spoon, his breathing even as he slept. Your body had little marks, a little burn from his beard as you two celebrated the win. But your heart was racing as you thought about how Freddie now had the ability to crush your heart.

You turned, turning towards Freddie. His ginger hair was flopping over his face and he was grumbling in his sleep. You heard him murmur, “Min elskede,” in his sleep and then smile before his breath evened out again.

You reached out towards the nightstand, hand looking for your phone. Staring at the phone, you noticed that the time was only 8:30 pm. Using the face id, you opened the phone and whispered what Freddie said into Siri. Pressing the volume button down, your heart soared when you saw the translation.

“Love, why are you awake?”

You glanced away from the phone to see Freddie staring at you, one eye open.

“If you’re awake, I didn’t tire you out enough.”

“It’s 8:30, Fred, it’s not time to go to sleep yet,” you laughed before shivering as his hand caressed your side.

“Then there’s plenty of time for another round,” he whispered into your ear as he grabbed your phone and tossed it over on the other side of the bed.

You protested faintly, “Really,” before Freddie’s lips found yours and all thoughts of anything other than his body over yours left your mind.

min elskede = my love in Danish

#Freddie andersen #lyric prompt blurbs #implied smut #slight angst #fluff #maple leafs imagines #leaf imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #drabbles #blurbs

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blameitonmyjuuse · 5 years

Text

For @austonandersen who wanted quarantined Freddie and Auston.

Though Freddie would never admit it, the NHL’s pausing of the season was not a wholly unwelcome idea. It was horrible, yeah, and incredibly frustrating because the Leafs were still solidly in the playoffs and slowly coming back out of their downward spiral, but.

But.

It’s not that Freddie was exhausted, per se, but being the starting goaltender for a team who seemed to constantly hover on the edge between absolute greatness and the absolute laughing stock of the NHL could sometimes take its toll. Game after game, night after night-- sometimes Freddie did wish for a break in between wishing for better defense and a Cup.

For just a single night to pause, relax on the couch, and not think of an impending match where it would either be a win and he’d have to push himself harder and harder to get to the next one, or a loss and it would be him against the entire Leafs fan base.

He did, however, wish that a global pandemic wasn’t the cause of this break.

Nevertheless, the lack of people on the afternoon streets while Freddie rounded the final corner to his apartment, sweat creating a tacky sort of stick on his back as his final few moments jogging faded into deep breathing, was not the worst thing in the world.

The Doorman tipped a professional greeting as Freddie made his way to the elevator, taking mouthfuls of water in and switching his AirPods into their protective case.

The ride was short; short enough that Freddie was still half reading a Danish news article about new cases when he stepped out, and traced his way down to his apartment, and opened the door.

He took a step beyond the doorway, half a second to read the sentence, træffe beskyttelsesforanstaltninger for at bremse spredningen---

And then stumbled.

Damnit.

Freddie sighed and glanced down at the pair of black and white Nikes about three sizes too small and 90% too flashy to be his own in the middle of the doorway. They were no doubt toed off without a thought, even though their owners most certainly knew that Freddie would be coming in from his afternoon jog and wouldn’t be able to miss them.

He stared balefully at the shoes and stepped over them, passing the shoe rack a couple steps further inside the hallway, where two other similar pairs had been forgotten over time.

Freddie toed off his own shoes, took another sip of water and peeked around the hallway. No sign, so that meant the owner of these ridiculous shoes had ventured deeper down the hall and into the master bedroom.

Sure enough, as Freddie passed through the entrance to his bedroom, shucking off a sweat-soaked tank top to the dirty clothes hamper, he noticed steam billowing from the master bath’s doorway.

“Matty?” Freddie called, as though the visitor would be anyone else.

There was a pause and the shower water turned off. A few seconds passed and Freddie used the brief moment of silence to open his dresser to pull out a pair of black boxers.

Then the bathroom door opened and a dark head peeked out, “Yeah?”

Freddie didn’t answer, just took in the sight as Auston emerged fully, hair slick and white towel tied haphazardly across his waist. Auston dragged a smaller towel through his hair, “What’s up?”

Freddie tossed him the black boxers, “How many times have I asked that you put your shoes on the rack?”

Auston grinned and ran the towel through his hair again, flexing his biceps. Freddie, of course, was drawn to the movement, to the way the muscle clenched and relaxed, before flicking cool his eyes back to Auston’s flushed face. Auston shrugged, “See, I meant to do that, but the promise of your shower was too much.”

Freddie didn’t buy it. When not focused on hockey, Auston’s main goal seemed to be driving Freddie insane. Insane, in several varying ways that both pissed Freddie off and made something burning hot burrow in his chest.

“You mean-- the identical shower to yours downstairs, in your own apartment?”

Auston shrugged again and scratched at the cut of his hip, where tiny rivulets of water were pooling and absorbing into the towel. “My apartment is missing things.”

“Hm,” Freddie murmured before shifting by Auston, taking care to pass close enough that he could feel the heat of the shower on Auston’s skin and smell his own shampoo and body wash on him, but not quite close enough to touch him. He shut the bathroom door behind him and pulled his jogging pants and underwear off.

Showering was a quick, perfunctory affair. Freddie didn't let his thoughts linger or stray-- especially not to the boy no doubt making himself comfortable on the couch. If he did, he'd be in there for hours and Auston, who might just be the most impatient boy in the world, would certainly have something to say about it.

Sure enough, when Freddie was dressed in soft grey sweatpants, socks, and nothing else, Auston was lounging across the couch, face buried in his phone and thumbs moving rapidly across the screen.

The TV was off, like it had been since the PGA announced that golf had been suspended for the time being. Freddie frowned at the thought, but leaned over to swipe the remote from the coffee table. When he glanced back at Auston, Auston’s eyes were on Freddie. He wordlessly curled his legs up to his chest, and when Freddie sat down, taking up the space where Matty’s feet had been, Auston spread out again and rested his calves on Freddie’s lap.

Freddie traced a line down Auston’s shin in thanks and turned the TV to the NHL channel.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Auston texting and then pausing and texting again, and Freddie mindlessly drawing patterns on the warm skin of Auston’s legs while watching highlights between a Stars and Predators game from last month.

Auston shifted and poked Freddie’s abs softly with his toe. “Mitchy wants to know where I am.”

“Does he want to come over?”

“He can’t. We’re self-quarantining, remember? Players aren’t supposed to be around each other.”

“Oh yes,” Freddie said with a pointed glance to the distinct lack of six feet between them, “Self- quarantining.”

But Auston’s attention was back on his phone. Freddie allowed it for a few more minutes, but as Auston’s eyebrow furrows like they do when he begins to start stressing about something hockey related, he sat up and snagged the IPhone from Auston’s hand.

“Dude,” Auston groaned half-heartedly, briefly trying to grab it back before giving up and laying back. He looked up at Freddie from under his eyelashes and the thing is--

The thing is, Freddie loves it when he does that. For a kid who had an entire dynasty thrust upon him, for a kid who’s had to grow up in one of the harshest spotlights in their sport, when he’s looking up at him like that, Freddie is reminded that Matts is still just a good-hearted kid. It reminds him that the quarantine isn’t all bad because it has given him quiet times where he and Matty can just be.

He must be doing that intense creeper stare that Auston bitches about, because Auston was nudging him again, “What?”

Freddie wanted to tell him all of that, but he doesn’t think he has the words in either English or Danish to try and get what he meant across. So he shrugged, “You’ll see him soon. All of them.”

“I’m just bored. I want to play hockey.” Auston threw his head back on the pillow his head was cushioned on, “That’s all I want to do right now.”

The inflection Auston uses, the slight undercurrent of whine, well, Freddie has never pretended that it didn’t do things to him.

It always had; even when Auston was a fresh faced nineteen year old who was just learning how much he could push before Freddie would react.

And Auston knew it, whether he used it meaningfully or not.

Freddie tilted his head and added some tone in his voice, “That’s all you want to do?”

Auston picked his head up slowly, “Well I mean-- not all I want to do. I- I mean, I can think of other things I’d be fine doing.”

Freddie let the fingers grazing against Auston’s shin drift higher, smiling slightly when Auston automatically opened his legs, “No, if you want to play hockey, we could play Xbox hockey.”

“Hm,” Auston hummed, lips quirked up at the ends as he pretended to be deep in thought. When he grew tired of waiting, he sat up, and Freddie had no problem using his larger frame to haul Auston up completely, until he could resettle in Freddie’s lap, either leg sprawled adjacent to Freddie’s thighs, “I actually think I just got a better offer.”

He did love the sound of that. Nevertheless, Freddie let his hands splay over the stretched cotton of Auston’s boxers. When Auston smiled wider and let his eyes flicker closed, eyes draped loosely around Freddie’s neck, Freddie lifted his right palm and brought it down hard.

Auston’s eyes opened wide at the pop.

Freddie lifted Auston off and climbed to his feet. He made his way around the couch and started towards his bedroom without a look back, “If you had picked up your shoes, you wouldn’t have to wait.”

Freddie privately smiled when he heard Auston curse and stumble over himself to put his shoes on the rack.

#for miss katie #who has been wanting auston and freddie fluff during the virus for a hot moment #auston x freddie #maple leafs #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews #frederik andersen #freddie andersen #also its been a million years since ive written #so apologies if its trash #i also have never written rpf before #sorry to my mother and to the real auston and freddie #if anyone shows this to them they can die by my blade #hockey

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harlowhockeystick · 3 years

Text

Celebration Done Right - Frederik Andersen

you were convinced the universe had it out for you. fred was too, all he wanted was after he had a damn good game, to come home and have a proper celebration. aka: the three times you couldn't celebrate with freddie, and the one time you finally did.

contains: fluff, angst, mentions of a head cold, cuss words, smut (minors DNI 18+), school teacher reader, fem!reader, period/menstruation, basically anything that you could put in a fic i did just that. enjoy.

word count: 4,671 (took my time lol)

tagging: @mandypants95 @nylwnder @lorrmorr @leafs-lover @owenpowerstapejob @jacksharlows @nolannpatrickk @hugheshugs

the first time:

You were convinced that the universe hated you. Whoever was controlling the sky and the stars, hated you. Because if that weren’t the case, you would have a front row seat in the PNC arena right now instead of sitting on your couch. You would be sitting where Fred could just look over and see you through the glass while you wore his jersey. But instead you were lying in pity on the couch, a ton of used tissues surrounding you as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

But you still watched. Your eyes were still glued to the tv as Fred stopped the pucks, as he played his heart out. With each passing minute the nerves died down inside you, the pit in your stomach starting to disappear. Even though your focus was on Fred most of the time, it was still a great game to watch.

With every passing minute the game got better and better. You found yourself counting down the minutes in intermission until the next period would start, looking forward to seeing what the team was going to do next.

While you watched it became clear to you that this team was going to be good. You knew that Carolina was good, you watched them in the playoffs last season and you were just as impressed then as you were now.

But that doesn’t necessarily make you feel any better. Your head hurts from coughing and blowing your nose. Your throat hurts from being swollen. Your ears are ringing and your lips are chapped. No amount of Freddie close ups could make you feel better. Your body feels like it has been hit with a bag of bricks, making you moan and groan in pain.

You feel your body drift off asleep. Eyelids become heavy and your body starts to feel limp. No matter how hard you try to fight off the sleep and stay awake, by the start of the third period you were fast asleep. The remote is still in your hand as you slept on the couch.

When Fred walked through the door the television was still on, the faint sound of the NHL network playing. He called your name but heard no reply. Setting his keys and wallet down onto the counter, he looked ahead and saw you lying on the couch. Fred stepped towards you, quietly. He leaned over the couch, staring at you as you laid peacefully on the couch cushions.

Turning the television off he walked around the couch, carefully picking you up with your blanket still clinging to you. Stirring a little bit you remained asleep in his arms, as Freddie carefully took you back to your shared bedroom. Setting you down on the bed he walked to the bathroom where he quickly showered, dressing into his sweatpants and t-shirt for the night. After brushing his teeth and washing his face you were still asleep on the bed, not having moved since you were laid down.

Fred carefully slipped under the sheets, resting his head against the soft pillow he stretched out his arm, pulling you closer to him. You weren’t underneath the sheets, Fred kept the blanket on top of you that you had on the couch. He wanted to keep you close to him, even though you were sick with a head cold he still needed you close at night. It helps him sleep.

He was nearly asleep when he felt you move against him. You sat up straight, a vicious and deep cough wracking from your lungs. Turning over and reaching across Fred you grabbed a couple tissues from his bedside table, as the box you had on your side was out. He opened his eyes to you blowing your nose as best you could, trying to clear the sinus paths of gunk.

“M’ sorry i couldn’t go to your game, Freddie.” he laid his hand on your thigh as you sat up against the headboard. Looking up at you, as you resulted in breathing through your mouth until you found the energy to go to the bathroom and rub some vicks vapor on your nose.

“It’s okay, I don't want you to go if you’re not able. Hopefully in a couple days you’ll feel good enough to go,” he replied, his voice quiet and rough. He had closed his eyes again now, keeping his hand across your lap. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, lightly coming through it and twirling the red locks in your fingers.

“S’ too bad, I wanted to celebrate with you.” he grinned, keeping his eyes closed. He knows all too well how you like to celebrate after wins. Fred would never say this out loud, but it is an extra motivator for winning. Not the main, but an extra one.

“Oh yeah?” he mumbled, raising up when you decided to forfeit the vicks vapor rub and try and get at least a few hours of sleep, sliding back down under the sheets. “We can celebrate with another win, I promise.” he rested his head on your shoulder and closed his eyes, letting your warmth lull him to sleep.

the second time:

A shutout. A 3-0 shutout with Fred in net. It had been two weeks since his first win with the team, some road games, and a thick head cold that had kept you from celebrating properly with him.

As you sat in the stands with some friends from work that you offered tickets to, Fred had himself a game. So did his teammates. They played their hearts out, giving Freddie everything they had. It was a good win for them, against a team that can be dangerous.

You were more than happy that you were able to be in attendance this time. You felt a warm rush pass through you every time Fred looked through the glass over at you, giving you a little grin through the steel bars in his goalie mask. And it made your friends giggle and some people around you turned around to see who he was looking at.

The game went by quickly. You watched them do the storm surge and stuck around to see who the three stars would be- proud that Freddie was one of them. You beamed in your seat, getting several pictures and videos of just that moment alone. You were so proud of Freddie, of how hard he worked and how he is always finding a way to get better. He makes you a better person, you’ve learned so much from him in just these past few years alone. You can’t imagine what you’re going to learn when you have the rest of your life ahead of you with him by your side.

You let your friends go and you found your way down near the locker room where you met with freddie. He was dressed in the same suit that he left in, his tie just resting over his shoulders and a few buttons undone at the top. He grinned when he saw you leaning against the painted cinder block walls, pressing a light kiss on your lips before you could even utter the word congratulations.

He kept his hand on your back as he walked with you to the parking garage, walking you to your car he still had that light grin on his face. You were sandwiched in between the driver side door and Fred. his hand on your hip and he pushed his leg in between your thighs pushing against that spot he knows makes your body feel flushed.

“So,” he started out, his eyes scanning you up and down. “We gonna celebrate tonight?” he asked, bringing his large hand to cup the side of your jaw. He was thankful that there was nobody left in the parking garage besides you two, and just a few cars from the arena staff members. And the thought crossed his mind, starting the celebration right here in the parking lot.

You opened your mouth to oppose, to remind him of something extremely important, but he put his finger over your lip to quiet you for the moment. “Ah- hold your thoughts, we gotta get out of here before I bend you over the hood of your car.” he kissed your cheek and strided over to his own car where he would get in the car and text you, wanna race? Before pulling out of the parking garage.

He beats you home, only because he was willing to run a couple red lights. Gathering your things and walking inside Freddie greets you in the kitchen. He’s taken his jacket off and he somehow looks bigger than before. His shoulders filled out the dress shirt perfectly, the cream color contrasting beautifully against his deep red hair.

Fred didn’t let you get a step past him; his arms reaching out and pulling you against his body, pressing his chest against you. He grinned, his honey colored eyes looking deeply into yours, tucking some hair behind your ears with his hand. His breath was gliding against your skin, he didn’t say anything just yet. But you knew he wanted to say just the filthiest things, tease you beyond meaning and make you sink to your knees out of habit.

He resulted in lifting you up onto the counter and spreading your legs with his hands and standing in between them. He whispered a c’mere and pressed his hand against your cheek, diving deep as his lips found yours. He hummed when he felt your tongue slip into his mouth, confirming his thoughts that you were just as needy as he was. He gripped your hips harshly, sliding you towards him on the counter with his strength.

You felt bad for what you were about to do. You never liked to leave him high and dry. “Freddie, wait,” you stopped him by pulling away for a second. His eyes were still closed when you looked at him. He could sense something was up, and he just didn’t want to hear what you had to say. “I can’t, tonight, at least.”

“Why?” he asked, in a particularly whiny tone. In the back of his head he knew why. He keeps track of your cycle in his head and if he was right you would have gotten it yesterday. But he wanted to hear you say why first before he went jumping to conclusions.

You purse your lips together before responding, “I'm on my period. I know you don’t like to…do anything but I could still help you out.” you reached down your hand to his belt and you started to tug on it, giving him a suggestive smirk. He kissed your cheek and pulled your hand away, sighing and giving you a sly smile, pushing all the dirty thoughts he had of you away.

“No, it wouldn’t be fair.” he responded while shaking his head. Fred stepped back, but kept his hands on your legs. You pouted, taking his hand in yours and giving his knuckles a kiss. He knew what you were trying to do but he wasn’t going to give in. He leaned in and kissed your nose, and then your forehead, “we can just do something in a few days. Maybe I'll get another shutout, then we can do that thing I wanted to try.”

You grinned and raised your eyebrows, trying to tug him back to you. “Thing? What thing?” he chuckled at you and gave you a horrible grin, one that you know all too well.

“You’ll see.”

the third time:

This was almost your last straw. A stupid, annoying, dare you say unnecessary teaching conference. On a weekend where Freddie was set to start both games. On paper the games were going to be easy, there was no reason for him and the rest of his team to lose.

“Are you sure you have to go? Is there not gonna be some makeup conference you can go to?” he grumbled, sounding like a little boy. This really wasn’t how Fred envisioned his first few weeks into the new season to go. His fiancee missed over half his games already, and when he comes home after a win the only way he’s been able to celebrate was a little makeout session and that’s it. Call him selfish or lewd, but he just wants to have sex with you.

Closing and zipping up your suitcase you went to stand in front of him on the bed. Cupping his face you gave him a kiss, and he tried to make it deeper but you pulled away, only making him groan in protest. “I am sure, I'm sorry. But it’s only a three day trip, surely you can survive three days without me.”

“I can’t, I'll die. I’ll die here alone and you’re gonna feel so terrible when you come back, and then I'm gonna haunt you for the rest of your life.” he joked, kissing your hands in between words occasionally. “When I marry you, I'm never letting you leave the house.” His cocky words cause you to laugh through your nose and roll your eyes at him. “‘M serious, you are never leaving my side. Ever.”

He kissed you again but you pulled away quickly. He shrugged loudly and fell back on the bed while you put your travel bag on top of the suitcase and rolled it out to the car. Eventually he made his way downstairs and gave you a hug goodbye, ordering you to drive safe and text him when you arrived.

Though it was only a short three hour drive to the place where the conference was being held, he still wanted to make sure you were safe. Fred was protective of you, mostly because he felt like he had to be. There were a few incidents back in Toronto where you felt unsafe, one time a guy tried to drag you back to a dark hallway, and another time where he lost you in a crowd and found a person trying to woo you away. Fred felt a need to have you around him at all times, as much as he could. Not only to keep you safe, but to keep himself sane.

You did as told, texting him once you arrived at the hotel. The actual conference itself didn’t start until the next morning at eight, but you didn’t want to wake up at four in the morning to drive there, so it was just best that you left when you did.

It was about time for his game to start, so while you unpacked and got a bath ready you had the game going on in the background. You’ve learned over the years being with Fred, that hockey makes great background noise for getting things done. When the postmate delivered your food you ate dinner and watched, intently focusing on all that he was doing.

It fascinated you, all that Freddie did. How he was able to switch positions on a dime to save that little puck from going into his net. He kept his head on a swivel, his eyes constantly moving. It took great skill, great concentration, incredible focus to do what he did. There were times where you would even get stressed, and all you were doing was watching from the stands. It always baffled you how he looked and remained so calm. The game could be on his shoulders, and he is still cool as a cucumber.

The third period was about to start and the game was tied at two a piece. This is when things always stress you out. A tie game going into a third period. Fred had already been playing well, but now he had to play to his best ability. His team, his coaches, all had complete trust in him. You had trust in him. But that never stopped you from pulling out your hair and chewing on the drawstrings of your hoodie.

But as the clock wound down, with a few more minutes to go and inching closer to overtime- one of the cane’s slapshots went past the other goalie and hit nylon. You squealed and smiled, already typing out your congratulations text to Freddie so that he can see it when he gets in the locker room. Waiting to see if they named him one of the stars, you were proud that he was the third.

Shortly after the game and after you had eaten your dinner, you ran yourself a bath to soothe yourself in preparation for the exhausting next two days. You loved your job, you loved pouring your heart into the next generation of kids and teaching them; planting seeds of knowledge and interest in each one of them. But that being said, conferences were your kryptonite. It was understandable that they were necessary and that they were for the better, but the ache in your back and the gnawing in your forehead were not.

“Mm, I was waiting for your call. Good game honey,” you answered the phone, voice quiet and silky smooth. Holding the phone up to your ear, listening to him talk about the game and how he felt about it. Raving about his teammates, how much happier he feels here in Raleigh than he did just a few months ago back in Toronto.

“I miss you bad, Y/N,” you heard him sigh- he’s probably sitting on the couch watching sports center with a glass of wine or scotch on the coffee table in front of him, his free hand probably palming himself through his pants, probably wishing it was yours instead of his. This is all from assuming how low and seductive his tone was. “I can’t wait til you’re home.”

“I know, me too Freddie. Can’t wait to feel you,” you hear him groan on the other side of the phone. He mutters a few cuss words underneath his breath and you can only imagine what he’s doing on the other side of the phone. “I already got a headstart on you, though.”

“Fuck- how’s that?”

“The bathtub has a detachable water faucet, but your hand feels much better. But it felt so good to finally cum after a few weeks. Y’know, first with me being sick, my period, you being out of town now me being out of town. Might even do it again just thinking about you.”

You bite your lip after you finished speaking, your other hand going underneath the warm water to cup your sex and rub yourself there. Eyes rolling back in your head, imagining it was his hand and not your own. That usually did the trick most of the time, but now that you’re on the phone with him, it helped you out even more.

Neither of you announced your release, a few halfhearted sentences were mumbled and the two of you gasped at a period in between the words. Your cunt was now sensitive, but nothing compared to how you feel after Fred does to it as he pleases. You’re left raw, red, and shaking. The main difference, after you help yourself out, you can walk.

“This doesn’t count as celebrating, by the way.” he mentioned after grabbing a tissue from the coffee table and cleaning himself off.

“Agreed.”

the plus one:

It was set. Fred had just won his seventh game in a row, and he was already on the freeway driving home. He was the first one out of the media room when all of the questions had been asked. He was the first one in his car, and the first one out of the parking lot. He had one thing on his mind and that was fucking you until the sun came up.

You heard the door open and his quick footsteps up the stairs towards the bedroom. He opened it and took in the breathtaking sight set before him- you in lingerie, a sheer robe over your shoulders, smooth and silky skin, ready to be fucked. He loved it.

“Okay- you’re not sick?” he asked, stepping toward you taking off his jacket and toeing off his shoes, “you’re not on your period?” he unbuttoned his shirt a ways while you slowly started on his pants, “and you’re not leaving early in the morning?”

“I’m not sick,” you pull off his belt and unzip his dress slacks, “I'm not on my period,” you took your hands against his chest and ran them over his shoulders, pushing the shirt off his body, “and I'm not going anywhere. I’m here, you have me however you want.”

It was like something took over his body. He didn’t register anything, he acted out of pure instinct. He pushed you back toward the bed, his hand placed on your neck as his lips found yours. Freddie pushed his tongue into your mouth and closed his eyes. You let him take control, you wanted him to take control.

You wrapped your leg around his waist while his lips traveled to your exposed neck, his wet lips leaving open mouthed kisses on your hot skin. He focused on every kiss he did. There was an intent with each one he planted, a sense of passion with each press of his lips. His hands touched every part of your body. He was making up for lost time; even if it was just two or three weeks, it felt like a lifetime to him. Freddie was a starved man.

Getting to the good stuff, he kisses right above the waistband of your underwear. Right above the lace hem. His fingers find their way to your hips and he pulls down the thin material (that might as well have been seen through) and smiles against your skin. God, he could smell you. He wanted you so bad.

Fred pushed you further up the mattress to have a better angle. You, out of habit, put your legs on his shoulders and let him get nestled in his favorite place to be. The tip of his nose rubbed against your clit and it made you gasp, digging the back of your head into the mattress and your back arching off the bed. Your hands were already tugging at his hair, pulling, guiding him to where you wanted him most.

His tongue lapped at you like a dog in summer heat, drinking up all the water in the bowl. He was lost in you, the way you tasted on his tongue put him in a trance. He almost becomes a different person when he fucks, too. A more seductive, charming, and dare you say, darker person. He gets this certain look in his eye that makes you go feral. It makes you chase that high even more.

While he slips his tongue into your hole you spread your legs a little wider, already feeling that coil in your stomach. Just when you were about to fucking cum he pulls away. But he doesn’t take his eyes off your already raw cunt, keeping your thighs spread he spits onto your core and dives right back in. licking a thick stripe from your asshole allt heway to your clit he shakes his head back and forth, getting you to cum on his tongue almost right away.

The tip of his tongue flicks at your clit, and for just a second his eyes peek up to see what you’re doing. He gets even harder when his eyes look at both your hands grabbing your boobs. He smiles against your pussy, then wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. The moan that it causes - every fucking time - never gets old. It’s loud, it’s hot, it’s pornographic. It’s one that he wants to record and have it play on repeat every single day. Maybe he might, one of these days.

Fred pulls away after your second orgasm and looks you over. There’s a little grin on your face that he just adores. He pulls down the cups of your bra and lets your breasts free, but before he pays attention to them he says “open” with his hand forcing your mouth to open. He spits a drop of his saliva mixed with your honey into your mouth and you giggle, swallowing what he gives you.

Your core is still tingling- both from the orgasms and from how his beard rubbed against your softer skin there. He had let it grow a little thicker, and you have no complaints. You prefer it that way.

“What do you want next?” he asked, dropping his pants and his boxers, leaving him completely naked to you. You smirked, leaning on your elbows and staring up at him as he got on the bed on his knees, his hands tracing over your body.

“I want your cock baby- i want it so fucking bad, please give it to me, give it to me hard.” your words pushed him further into the trance. He swiped his hand across your cunt to get it nice and wet and pumped himself a few times, making sure that he wasn’t going in dry. You’re like a vice grip around him, squeezing his fat cock so fucking tight that he has to take a second to breathe.

“Feel fuckin’ amazing baby, fuck, goddamn you feel so good,” he threw his head back and shoved himself deeper inside you, letting himself get fully immersed in the euphoria of it all. Fred fell deeper into the high headspace he always slipped into when he fucked you. When he was six inches deep inside you, the tip of his dick rubbing against your g spot like it was his day job.

Your and Fred's moans filled the room. The slapping of skin, the sound of his cock pumping in and out of your tight hole, it was downright filthy. His hands gripped your sides with such force you knew there was going to be purple spots there. He was hitting it so hard you could feel your hips bruising there. But you didn’t care. It felt great. It felt wonderful, to finally have a release by him instead of your own hand and some water faucet with half ass water pressure.

He felt you squeeze on his cock and that was almost his last straw. He wrapped his hand around your throat - not too tight - and forced eye contact. “Cum with me baby, cum on my fuckin’ cock, do it,” he demanded, causing a light grin to form on your lips. He sped up his hip thrusts and with one…two…three…four more your eyes were rolling back in your head and your legs were shaking, closing in around Fred's torsy and your heels digging into his body. Your nails were raking down his skin, surely leaving marks for the next couple of days.

He continued to fuck through your orgasm, now that he’s held off for so long he’s ready for his own release too. You help him out, turning your head to kiss at his temple and tug on the shorter hairs, squeezing your cunt around him to help him cum. He moaned, giving you warnings and holding you down against the mattress while he used you for his little hole to put his cum.

“Holy…fucking shit Y/N- fuck me,” fred groaned when he finally put his cum inside you. Deep, hot, thick inside you. “Goddamn,” he breathed out, pressing his head against your chest and closing his eyes, forming his lips together and placing delicate kisses on your skin that has a thin layer of sweat on it.

He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, taking it off you and tossing it to the floor. Fred ran a hand through his thick hair and looked you over before pulling out, some of his thick mess spilling out along with his cock. “That,” he sighed and leaning forward to kiss your lips softly, “was a celly done right, my love.”

・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。

- thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed. sorry it took me so long to get it posted! feedback and comments, etc, are always appreciated! also if i made a typo/spelling mistake please let me know.

xo, j

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