#nate mackinnon x reader

[harlowhockeystick]

OH, HERE WE GO AGAIN ⎯ Nathan MacKinnon

y/n is tired of nate crashing her parties, nate is tired of her making dumb decisions, especially with a killer on the loose.

dirty cop!nate x fem!reader

warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, rough sex, spitting, absolute raunchy shit), cuss words, college parties, i would consider this a dark fic so take that as you wish, talk of murder and serial killers, drug deals.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: y'all know me, always makin up new au's. but this time i get to use my (almost) degree. read with caution because i really got down and dirty with this one, but please enjoy.

🎧⎯ listen to "my boy only breaks his favorite toys", "i can fix him (no really i can)" by taylor swift, "THE GREATEST" by billie eilish

she could sense his presence before he even walked into the house. she was aware of the chances of running into him when she went out that he would show up, especially when she went to a house party or a bar on the weekends. he always seemed to show up right when things started to get sticky, she could never figure out why.

she saw the flashing blue and red lights, heard forceful bangs on the door. she chugged the remaining alcohol before getting caught by officer mackinnon once again. people started to scramble, running out to the backyard and jumping the fence, hiding in closets or finding an exit before they got caught with things they should have in hand. y/n was clear, but she knew what was in store whenever nathan showed up.

"alright, show's up! everybody out!" y/n heard his booming voice as she stood in the kitchen talking to her friends. a couple of her friends ditched before officers barged in, one more stayed behind. one that nate didn't like.

"officers! what's the issue?" one of the frat boys approached nate, trying to act like the walls weren't shaking from the bass and the smell of vodka and weed wasn't leaking into the streets. "we're just trying to have fun." nate rolls his eyes and shoves past the boy, letting the other officers deal with him. he shoves people out of the way, yanking beer bottles out of hands and tugging drug baggies out of shirt pockets. then he spots you in the kitchen, a sinister smirk on his lips.

"well well, thought i told you to stay away from these things?" he strides toward her grabbing her hand aggressively, pulling her toward the door. he gave her friend a nasty look up and down, muttering something about how much of a bitch she is.

"whatever do you mean officer? can't a simple college girl enjoy a party on the weekends?" y/n uses a very sweet but annoying tone while talking to him, blowing a kiss to one of the boys as she makes her way out. that just makes him pull on your hands harder, making her strain.

"you're in your last semester of grad school and you work a full time job, hardly consider you a college girl, sweetie." nate bites back, pushing you down on the hood of his matte black squad car, the one he usually uses for undercover work. he pats you down, his hands getting dangerously close to some of his favorite areas on you. but he's not gonna do that in public, at least. sometimes he has manners. he tells you to lean against his car while he gets a breathalyzer, opening the package. he holds it up to your lips, "blow."

"take me on a date first nathan," you wrap your lips around the device and hold steady eye contact with him, blowing out strongly for five seconds. he takes it out and waits for the results.

"hmm, past the legal limit." he shakes his head.

"i hold my liquor real well officer."

nate manhandles her into the backseat of his car, slamming the door in her face. getting in the front seat he drives the familiar route to her house where she gets more intoxicated by the second with the alcohol just circling her system. he helps y/n into her own house, unlocking the door (he hopes she wouldn't notice that he had his own on his keychain) and into her bedroom. she's a giggling, fidgety mess as he tries to help her get dressed into pajamas at least.

"how come you're always ruining my parties, nathan." she spits at him, sitting up in bed lazily wiping her makeup off with a rag he gave her.

"i'm not ruining anything, i'm trying to keep you safe. how many times do i have to tell you i don't like you going to those things, the last thing i need is you getting roofied and i find you on a bathroom floor with your fuckin panties at your knees." he breathes after his rant; standing tall with his chest full of air, his voice getting louder and louder with every other word. "and quit calling me nathan." he failed to realize that he actually struck a nerve with her as he saw tears well up in her eyes.

she crossed her arms over her chest, turning the bedside lamp off signaling it was time for him to leave. he sighed, trying to reach down and make it up by giving her a kiss on the forehead. she swerved out of the way, pulling the quilt up over her shoulders and staring at the wall across from her.

-

nate and y/n have a strange relationship. they've known each other for so long, since they can remember. nate had a tougher upbringing than she did, which drove him into a tough and rugged job like the police force. when she got accepted into university he was graduating the academy faster than expected from his peers.

he had an odd attachment to her, and he refused to admit to anyone that he was in love with her. he'd been in love since they kissed under the bleachers in seventh grade when she got his gum stuck in her braces. he stays in love with her, that's why in his mind he makes up valid excuses to him stalking her every move around town when he's on duty. especially when he's on his undercover watch.

she's yet to figure out how he comes in clutch so quick, and he's thankful for that. he doesn't have an explanation made up in his head yet when she does figure it out.

nate stays watch outside of her house until his shift is over, listening to radar and watching the time go by. he really doesn't know what he would do if he found her on some bathroom floor. he would probably black out and rip every man apart limb to limb until he found the dick who did it, and only then would he lose complete control. definitely lose his badge and his gun.

his shift ends and he pulls away, driving the fifteen minutes across town to his own place for the night. he dreams about her each and every night, some good and some bad. one time he dreamt about asking her to be his to show off, and she said no. it's a deep fear of his, truly, her saying no; because he really wants to ask her at least once...maybe to the movies keep it simple?

but he never ends up making a decision. he keeps things the way they are for now, nate stalking her around town when he's on shift, stealing her away from frat parties, and pulling her over when she gets too close to the edge of town. the hold he has on her is addicting, like the worst type of drug he's encountered.

-

no more parties. you need to be more careful.

you're not my dad, i am a grown woman who does what she wants

she's not gonna do shit if she gets killed. there's been a few murders in the surrounding counties of college aged girls at parties, they took em out back and fucked em up.

how nice of you to look out for me.

i'm serious, no more. i don't care, i'll follow you around to every single party you even think of going to.

whatever, nathan.

-

"we got a lead on our target- pretty good lead, he's gonna be at some party on erskine street tonight." nathan sat in the team meeting with the other detectives around the table, the other undercover detective sitting next to him in street clothes also.

"we have reason to believe that he is either involved or the cause of the string of murders in the county. four college aged women have been killed in similar ways, but all four were found with their hair cut and their throats slit along with cut marks along their inner thighs."

nate tuned out a long time ago when they mentioned parties and college women. his mind went the worst way possible. what if is was her who was next? what if she was found in a ditch somewhere? what if she was going to be at this party tonight?

"hayes, you're gonna be at this party tonight-" his heart rate sky rocketed. he wasn't about to let someone else do this job.

"with all do respect sir- he doesn't look like a college aged kid. i'm the only person on this team who is close in age to a college kid, i have a better chance getting into this party than hayes." he gave a sly look over to his colleague, knowing he was right. it stunted his boss a little bit, surprised by his assertiveness.

"alright, you can go. you know what to do if you see him. you'll have on a wire, don't do something stupid." yeah, but he doesn't know what to do if she's there and he's there.

the meeting ends and he goes out to his car, sitting with the air conditioner lightly blowing on him. he thinks about texting her as a warning, but he knows that it would only freak her out. he thinks about going to her house and having an in person conversation, but he knows after how last weekend went she wouldn't welcome him in. nate can only hope she finally for once in her life takes his advice and doesn't come to this party.

-

nathan slips the guy at the door a hundred dollar bill, letting him in the party. he knows it isn't going to be easy, he's bigger and has a different look in his eye compared to all the other college boys in this frat house. he feels like he's still got it, though, as he walks through the house and every single girl is giving him the eyes he used to get his freshman year. it takes him back.

he turns it on immediately, allowing girls to flirt and run their hands up his body. he has to be careful not to drink, because if the target is here he can't arrest someone while under the influence; that's not how he wants to be on the news.

nate feels good in his dirty little groove he has going on, dancing with four different girls, kissing them and feeling their bodies with his calloused hands. but he feels her presence- no, he feels her eyes on him before anything else. he slowly turns around and she's giving him the worst look of his life. he feels caught, a deer in headlights, a kid stealing candy, a criminal caught in the act.

but his body acts before his mind does. shoving the girls off of him and making his way through the crowd, he follows after her. when she realized he was coming her way she bolted, setting her drink on a random surface, turning around and trying to get away from him. but he was too fast- he pulled her shirt and into a vacant room.

nate flipped the lights on and when he did she slapped the silly look off his face. but he couldn't do anything, he knew he deserved it. "you fucking dick!" she shouted, pushing him away from her. she continued to yell and shout profanities at him, wanting nate to feel the betrayal she felt.

but she took it too far when she shouted police officer. immediately he put one stiff arm on her chest and one hand covered her mouth, pushing her against the nearest wall. "shut up," he quietly spat, reaching to turn the lights off. he could still see her from the street light that was pouring in through the open window.

"i'm here because the guy we've been going after is going to be here tonight. that is the only fucking reason i'm even here-" she rolled her eyes and tried to move away, "he's killed four other women, your age and your body type, and he's one of the leaders in the drug trade 'round here. so i'd shut the fuck up and listen if i were you, babe."

he saw her eyes soften through the faint lighting and he knew he caught her attention. nathan felt her stiff muscles relax as she stood up straight against the wall, not trying to fight with him anymore. he removes his arm and hand, but he doesn't step away from her quite yet. "i didn't know you were like, a detective. thought you just wrote tickets."

"there's a lot you don't know about me, y/n." he opens his phone to see a text from his partner who was staking out down the street. "he's here." he swear he heard her stop breathing for a few seconds when the words slipped out of his mouth.

there is a killer, a drug leader, a criminal in this house.

nate sensed her anxiety and placed his large hand on her cheek, "stay here until i come get you. i don't care if someone else comes in here do not leave this room until i come get you, understand?" she nodded her head.

he left the room and went downstairs, going to the backyard to grab a drink. he found a cold bottle of coke and took a sip, but as he opened it he saw the target. ten feet from him, was the man he and his unit had been hunting for the past month and a half. reminding himself he was wearing a wire he muttered the code into his chest before making his way over to the target.

"hey man," he gave the man a head nod as he slipped him a fake fifty dollar bill. the target chuckled, "you're new, haven't met you yet have i?"

"new in town, i'm a grad transfer, tryna make it through the first couple weeks y'know?" the target nodded his head. standing up he put his hands in his pocket. just as he did so, nate's backup team busted through the house shouting with their guns pointed, looking for the target. he heard the ruckus, looked at nate and took off toward the gate in the backyard trying to jump the fence.

nate grabbed him by his coat and threw him to the ground roughly, pulling his hands behind his back and slapping handcuffs on his wrist. "you're under arrest motherfucker," nate said through gritted teeth.

the other police officers were getting everyone out of the house and shutting the party down while nate and his colleague took the target to his car. "wait here, i'll be back in a minute." he knew that they still had to get a confession out of the target. his department was known for getting a one hundred percent confession rate, and those never came from the interrogation room. nate was known for getting those in the back of his police car.

he walked back into the house and into the room where y/n was still sitting on the bed. he let out a small sigh of relief. "i'll get someone to drive you home. i have to finish up here."

she couldn't decide on what emotion to feel quite yet. anger? she was extremely angry with nate. fear? she was stricken with fear from the moment nate told her the reason he was really there. worry? she was worried about what might have happened if something went wrong in the arrest.

there was some part of her that was thankful nate was safe, that he was okay, and nothing bad happened. she hated that.

he walked her out of the house and told his colleague to take her home. "i'll see you in an hour." nate watched her get into his partners car before getting into his own. except he got in the backseat next to the target, not the front.

nate grabbed his gun from his holster that was hiding under his thick sweatshirt, wiping it off with a small handkerchief he kept in his jeans pocket, and pressed it firmly against the targets thigh looking the man in the eyes. "you have once chance to confess, i suggest you do it now."

-

she hadn't moved off of her couch since nate's partner dropped her off. she sat there on the white polyester sofa, staring at the front door, listening to the light whistle of her air conditioner. she had been counting down the minutes of the hour when nate said he would be there.

y/n couldn't figure out why she was feeling the way she was feeling, but she couldn't exactly put a name to her feeling either. worried about nate, but also incredibly angry at him. her heart and her mind were at war with each other because deep deep down she knew she loved nate, but she hated him at the same time. hated how he was always so controlling, how he was in her business all the fucking time.

her thoughts were interrupted when she saw headlights pull into her driveway and could make out the outline of his car. he walked into her house and saw the saddened figure of her, sitting on the sofa.

but when he walked in, she felt angry again.

nate shut the door and locked it, taking off his sweatshirt and tossing it onto the chair that faced the windows. he was afraid to speak first, because he could sense a bomb was about to go off and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"tell me everything. i'm done with your lies, i'm done with your bullshit, i'm done nathan. tell me everything." he purses his lips and sits on the carpet across from her on the couch- he knows better than to sit next to her when she presses her hands against her lips.

"i put a tracker on your car." that's the first thing he says- if looks could kill he would already be buried by now. "i've been following you on my shifts, sometimes off my shifts too. every party, date, football game you went to i was there too."

"nath-"

"with a killer on the loose? no way i'm letting you out of my sight. i care too much about you. the last thing i want to find out is rolling up to another crime scene and see you dead."

"how long have you been following me?" she said, her tone fierce and her eyes cold.

"since i became an officer." she took in a deep breath, slowly standing up and running her hands into her hairline. she turns around and he starts to speak again, attempting to defend himself but she cuts him off.

"you've been following me for almost five fucking years?!" she screams, veins in her neck protruding and her hands balled into fists out of anger. nate bowed his head and pursed his lips together out of shame. she was bound to found out at one point. "nathan you're insane- you're a fucking psycho i can't even-"

"you could have been dead tonight! you could've been fucking raped and killed if i wasn't there tonight!" his rough voice cut you off, "i've kept you safe from so much. i've kept you from being drugged, kidnapped, and you've never thanked me once."

she rolled her eyes and tried to turn around but nate grabbed her arm fiercely, definitely leaving a bruise. "you don't realize all the shit i've done for you. all those girls he murdered looked exactly you: same hair color, eye color, height, age. you coulda been next you know that?"

she wanted to be angry. she wanted to be frustrated. she wanted to kick him out of her house and never let him back in ever again. block his number, throw away everything he left at her house and ditch his memories forever. "why then? if you're so mean to me, such a fucking helicopter of a man, why?"

"cause i love you! i'm fucking obsessed with you and you refuse to see that! you're so caught up with yourself and your own image that you never fucking even pay attention to me," nate had her pushed against the wall now, his hands firmly on her hip bones as his stare was melting.

"you're not good to me. i'm your favorite toy that you break all the damn time, you come running back to me,"

"'cause you're my favorite."

a moment of silence between the two drives nate crazy. he makes the first move that he knows she was dying for. every time they've had an argument it's led to them tossing underneath her bedsheets until the clock strikes midnight.

his lips encapsulate hers, at first she's timid but inevitably gives in. it's a natural response at this point, her body craves his at all times. one day her mind will catch up. it's his mission to make that happen.

he's about to push her sweatshirt up with his hands but he feels a firm hand press against his chest. "there's more you have to tell me, i know it." she pushes him in her bedroom and closes the door. he falls onto the bed with her standing in between his legs tall, making him look up at him. he knows she's trying to intimidate him, and he hates to admit that it's almost working.

"i've been working undercover for this fuckin' gang for almost two years." she leans down and pulls at his basketball shorts that he wore; she can't lie she liked seeing him in shorts. there was something about his thick muscles abusing the thin material that made her want to jump him but she had to remind herself that she was angry with him. she wanted to make him pay.

"that friend you had- fuck," he felt her soft hand press hard against his crotch, "cassie? i threatened her after you told me she stole from you. that's why you haven't heard from her in over a year." he closed his eyes and she slowly, but with firm hands, started to stroke the outline of his cock through the material of his briefs.

she pulled down her denim shorts and kicked them toward her closet. he chuckled seeing a damp spot on her panties. even angry she can't ignore the way she feels about him.

"that guy you said made you feel uncomfortable on that date six months ago? i got him arrested for drugs." she knelt down and took his cock out, thumbing over the tip making him inhale sharply. "and you remember - fuck - that time when you got a flat tire?" he fell back to the bed when she held eye contact, spitting on his dick and rubbing her hand up and down. "i put a nail in your tire just so you'd call me."

"you're insane."

"i'm in love with you," he sits up and puts his hands on her cheeks, forcing her to kiss him. this time she gave in immediately, kissing back with a passion. he pulled back to take his shirt off and she did the same. he reached around her back and unhooked her bra letting it fall to the ground. she straddled him, slowly sinking onto his hard dick.

it stung at first- neither of them thought to use any protection. their minds are too foggy and they're too in love to do anything about it. "i'd kill for you, y/n." he breathes out when she finally sinks all the way down onto him. "why do i get the feeling you already have?"

both of their eyes are blown with lust as they move together in sync. his large rough hands move across her back, feeling her soft skin close to his. he kisses her tits, sucking and leaving love bites where stretch marks have made their light indent across. he sucks on the most sensitive parts that knows make her moan and her back arch.

she grinds down, his cock hitting the best spot inside her smoothly while her clit grazes against his skin so effortlessly. it's the best feeling she's had all day. she holds on tightly to his shoulders, nails gripping hard and leaving crescent moons from her firm hold. biting her lip as she feels the bubble in her stomach about to burst. nate sits back and watches her ride it out on top of him and it's the most satisfying thing he's ever seen. she moans his name and slows her pace down, firmly grabbing his jaw and pulling him in for a kiss, raking her hand down his chest.

"do you trust me?" he asked as he pulled away.

"i do now," she admitted, running a hand through his short blonde hair. in once quick movement he flipped the both of them over causing her to shriek. he slides out of her, standing up to the edge of the bed. pulling the rest of his briefs off his body he takes in a deep breath.

"turn over," she does as told, propping herself up on her elbows. he brushed her hair out of the way, kissing a trail up her spine as he lined himself up with her entrance. still slick and ready she dipped her head down but let out a sigh when she felt his whole body weight press down on her. nate laced his fingers with hers, "safe word if it's too much. promise i'll stop this time."

not even starting out in a good pace, nate goes straight to fucking her lights out. his body moving with a vicious pace, using every muscle he has on his body into making her body mold with his. nate bit down onto her neck with his teeth lightly while he picked up his pace in an ungodly manner.

her poor bed frame was squeaking and she could bear the base breaking with every thrust. she kept moaning but couldn’t form words, her body tingling from the pleasure she was feeling from his cock railing in and out of her. using his core strength nate sat upright, continuing to fuck all of the energy she had right out of her.

her clit was grazing against the material of the sheets, his hands gripped bruises into her soft flesh of her hips, out of his mouth came a string of curses and praises all aimed at her.

fuck this is the best we’ve had

you feel so damn good

cant get enough of you

it got to the point where the feeling if his cock, his hands on her hips now pulling her back onto him since she ran out of energy just from his force alone. nate felt her warm cunt clench around her pussy signaling her orgasm was close.

pulling her hair, he forced her to press her back against his chest. this angle was somehow better, she felt the tip of his cock bruise the spot inside her that made her see stars. the pleasure was almost too much as she began to cry out from the overstimulation and pleasure that nate was giving her.

one of his hands wrapped around her throat causing her head to rest on his shoulder. she moaned and whined, tears falling from her eyes. the other hand wrapped around her torso and two fingers rubbing on her clit.

she moaned praises and thanks to nate for fucking her so damn good. his cock felt so good abusing her pussy like this she was out of her mind in pleasure, lost in the fog of it all. the way his hand was slowly adding pressure to her throat, his hand rubbing on her poor swollen clit, his dick pumping in and out she was bound to give out.

she stuffed one of her hands in his hair, tugging at the roots and nate begged her to cum on his cock. to drench the sheets in her sticky mess. she also pleaded to fill her up, to have her leaking for days on end. she wanted to feel him inside her for a week and she knew she would with the way he fucked her so good.

her body flopped down onto the mattress when the orgasm washed over her, white knuckling the sheets as he fucked her through it. nate ran his hands over her now lightly sweaty back, kissing deeply on her neck as he pulled out. the two were out of breath, he laid down on the mattress next to her. nate went to the bathroom and got a wet washcloth, handing it to her, not really knowing what to do with it.

“forgive me?” he asked, his voice husky as he pulled his briefs back on. she propped herself up on her elbows resting the cloth on her tender thighs.

“maybe, depends on if you stay the night.”

-

she woke up to the sound of lightly whispered curses and nate hitting his head on the closet door. she glanced at the clock, 5:19 am. she had only gotten four hours sleep at that point.

“what’re you doing?” she asked, voice coated in sleep.

“partner called, they arrested the other two guys we’ve been after.” he hustled to get his clothes on and tie his shoes. she rolled her eyes, he’s leaving again. nothing changes. she rolled back over with a heavy sigh and a disappointed heart. “hey- hey, i’ll be back. i need this confession and then we’ll be done.”

no response came. she should’ve known it was going to be like this.

“i’ll bring you breakfast, want pancakes or donuts?”

she rolled back over, looking in his eyes. something was different this time, more gentle. more…emotional. different.

“pancakes.”

-

a/n hehe hope u liked :)

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[withwritersblock]

Daylight

~Daylight by Taylor Swift~

Author's Note: requested! I love Nathan Mackinnon Summary: erm friends to strangers to friends again to lovers? Warnings: swearing maybe? Word Count: 5,431 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

It was a huge life decision that she was convinced was going to fail miserably. Moving to the States felt like an awful decision but she was tired of staying in the same place she has lived in her whole life. 

Her newly found ex-boyfriend also had lived there his entire life and it showed. There was never any desire to grow or change. There was no way she wanted to stay in Nova Scotia her whole life. Despite it being one of the most gorgeous places in the world, there was plenty gorgeous places in the States too.

She sent her resume to probably a hundred different places and Denver ended up being the best option. They offered the most travel money and salary. It seemed perfect. Her apartment was only two blocks away from her job and on nice days she was more than willing to walk.

Today, it was April and her apartment was covered in boxes. The movers were able to bring everything into the apartment but after that there was nothing they could do. She was making good money, great money. Some of the best money she’s ever made in her entire life so she might’ve went a little big on the apartment; and a little big on the furniture.

Instead of happily unpacking, she found herself sobbing on the floor after she pulled out a framed photo of herself with her ex. It was something she either accidentally packed our the movers did. She was not sure.

They had been together since they were seventeen and they broke up a decade later. It was a lot of her life that she sometimes wished she could get back. There was times she wished she ended it sooner. Because who waits a decade to even bring up marriage. 

She got out and that’s all that matters. 

Wiping the tears from her face she stood up from the floor and stumbled towards her bathroom, the only room that was semi-unpacked. She decided to shower and get a freshstart on the day. Even though it was well into the afternoon.

After another hour she decided to head down to the coffee shop that was only two buildings over. They were nearly a twenty-four hour place, which is just the coffee shop she needs. 

It was starting to get dark as it was close to six at night, but the sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pink and purple hue to the sky. The sidewalks were suprisingly busy with tourists. It was evident by the way they were taking pictures and speeding down the sidewalks towards their next destination. 

She smiled towards herself as she stepped inside the coffee shop and it wasn’t crowded. Maybe people didn’t have as big of a caffeine addiction like she did. She walked behind the small line towards the counter, three blonde men stood in front of her and she kept her distance. 

She was tuning out their voices as she was listening to the Taylor Swift song playing in the background. After the last one ordered, the three of them erupted into laughter. 

“New contract, Caler, thanks for the coffee,” one of them said as they smacked their hand against his upper back. They all barked out a laugh before the first two wandered towards a table near the center of the shop. 

The man in front of her, Caler apparently, paid for the coffees before he followed his friends. 

The barista smiled towards her, looking somewhat exhausted. She felt a little guilty now that she was there. “Can I get an iced lavender latte to go?” Y/N asked her. She nodded immediately grabbing the largest size clear cup and started writing on it.

“Shut up man,” she heard one of them say from the corner but she chose to try her best to ignore it. She handed her card over to the barista and quickly paid for it, keeping her gaze towards her. “Nate don’t be weird,” she heard again. 

She took her card back and subconsciously glanced towards the three of them. She stopped short, holding her card in the air while she met one of their gazes. A man she hasn’t seen in eleven years.

Well, she’s seen him but not like this. Not face to face or in public. He was much older and had a different smile but it was Nathan. 

She thought Denver was too big to run into him, especially since he was dominating the NHL at the moment.

“Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper as he crossed around the table, moving quickly towards her. Her eyes widened as she slowly put her card back into her wallet.

“Nathan,” she let out with a soft grin.

“What are you doing in Denver?” he let out excitedly, his hands were interlocked; almost as if he was trying to decide if he should hug her. She slipped her wallet back into her hoodie pocket as she stepped away from the counter. 

Glancing towards the other two boys whom she assumed were his teammates. She was a Canadiens fan since that’s who her parents root for. But she was never obsessed with the sport. Based off of the decor in the coffee shop, she could see from behind Nathan’s head that she should know who they are.

Swallowing hard, “I just moved here for a job,” she explained. His eyes widened as he smiled.

“Where’s Carter?” Nathan asked while whipping his head around to see the two guys staring towards him. He waved his hand at them hoping they would stop. 

Her mouth fell open while she took in a sharp breath, “We broke up a few months ago,” she let out.

He pulled his head back while nodding; crossing his arms over his chest. “That sucks, I’m sorry. You guys were together for a long time,”

She chuckled while tilting her head to the side, “Too long, but it’s all good. Needed a fresh start,” she explained while brushing a piece of hair away from her face. He nodded before pressing his lips together. 

“Denver’s a great place for that,” he mumbled.

The barista called out Cale’s name and the two other guys jumped up from their seats to go grab their drinks. They were all hot coffee in to go cups.

“It is,” she mumbled as she continued to look into his eyes, “H-how’s the season going? You know I don’t really pay much attention-” 

“Still a Habs fan?” Nathan asked as Cale handed him his drink. She smiled and nodded. “Well, we’re heading to the playoffs in a week so we’ll see.” 

“Better than the Habs,” she muttered jokingly. He chuckled as he continued to look into her eyes. “That’s great, I hope it works out for you guys,” 

“Tha-thanks,” he mumbled.

“Nate, we gotta head out,” the other guy said walking up behind them, “Got to get to the arena. Why don’t you get her number and call her after our meeting?” he teased as he pushed past them. Nathan chuckled as watched them walk away before he met her gaze again. 

“That’s Gabe, doesn’t know how to switch off being captain,” he explained. She smiled as she looked into his light eyes again, something in them made her heart flutter. He looks so good.

“I see,” she mumbled as she saw the barista hold out her drink towards her, “Thank you,” she said as she gladly took the drink. Nathan took in a sharp breath as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“My number’s changed a few times since secondary school,” he explained as he held out an empty contact in his phone. She took a hold of it and added herself to his phone. “Just in case you need some friends in the city, I’ve got a few to spare,” he continued meeting her eye.

“Thanks Nathan, I guess I’ll see you,” she muttered. He nodded before he walked out of the coffee shop. She watched him leave and felt herself overthinking the conversation. Did that really just happen?

“I’m so sorry but how do you know Nathan Mackinnon?” the barista said as she leaned over the counter. Y/N pulled herself out of the small trance she was in and looked towards the dark brown haired girl beside her.

“We grew up together back in Canada. I haven’t seen him since we were sixteen,” Y/N explained, shocked to say the least. The barista smiled widely. 

“Wow, that’s like-so cool,” she said while shaking her head. She turned around and immediately started cleaning something.

Y/N nodded with a hum falling from her lips, she continued to walk out of the coffee shop to head towards her apartment again.

~~~

It had been a few days since she ran into Nathan and they had been texting constantly since Nathan was incredibly busy with the end of the season coming up and their first round in the playoffs against the Predators. 

Her apartment was slowly starting to come together. Majority of her furniture arrived and she convinced the movers to place it exactly where she needed it to be. Even after a handful of “wait can you actually put it on that side, thank you.” She hated being that person but she didn’t have anyone to help her move them.

The thought of asking Nathan to help crossed her mind but it was such a difficult and essential time in his life. They were in Minnesota for the last game of the season and even in the text messages it was obvious that he was nervous. But he was Nathan Mackinnon and he was not supposed to be nervous. 

For the first time by herself, she decided to sit down and watch a hockey game. Her former boyfriend was a huge hockey fan, specifically the Pittsburg Penguins. Because he was such a nice guy he had the multi-broadcast so she could watch the Habs play as well. Whenever they were playing at the same time.

She sat at the center of her new couch and draped a light pink blanket over her lap and she turned on the local Altitude broadcast. She put on her Lehkonen jersey that her father gave her after she said she was moving to Denver. 

He told her that if his two favorite people were moving to Denver at least she should have his favorite player’s jersey. He was joking mostly, but her mother didn’t find it that funny. But she promised that she would wear it every time she watched a game or went to one. Especially since her dad actually was close to heartbroken when he was traded.

The game started and she saw Nathan take the draw. She found herself smiling. She was also excited to watch the game again. She hasn’t been excited to watch the game since she was a kid. The joy of watching it with her dad and bonding with him over it was everything. Except Carter took that away from her. The game was ruined for her because of the rage he would get every time they made a bad play or lost the game.

But she was alone, a glass of rosè in her hand and her dad’s favorite player on her jersey. The apartment was nearly pitch black and the only light was the TV screen. 

The game ended with a difficult loss but she was happy to actually have enjoyed the game. 

All she knew was that the next set of games were going to be hard and she was excited to watch and excited to talk to Nathan about it. The more she thought about him over the last few months, the more she realized how close they used to be.

There was a time in her life where Nathan was always around and they were inseparable. Until he joined Halifax and he became a future star. It wasn’t intentional with how he left, he tried to reach out and be there but his life was going warp speed and hers was slowly moving on. 

She never forgot about him and he clearly hasn’t forgotten about her. She took in a deep breath before she stood up from the couch. Placing her empty glass onto the coffee table before she folded the blanket and draped it over the top of the couch.

Her father started to video call her and she pulled her head back for a moment. Never someone to call this late, let alone call her ever. She answered it and held it ahead of her waiting for him to show up on the screen. He smiled widely as he saw the Habs jersey on her body.

“Were you watching hockey?” he asked. She nodded as her lips curled upward into a small grin.

“I ran into someone,” she muttered. Her dad’s eyes squinted while he furrowed his eyebrows. “Nathan,” she let out simply. He tilted his head to the side for a second before his mouth fell open.

“Our Nate?” he let out. She wasn’t sure if he meant Nova Scotia’s or their little social circle. 

“Yeah, literally two days after I got here. How crazy is that,” she expressed.

“Man, you guys haven’t talks since he joined the Mooseheads, wow,” he let out. Something felt off with his tone, nearly sarcastic.

“Why are you talking like that?” 

“I’m not talking like anything,” he said, pouting his bottom lip slightly.

“Dad,” she nearly scolded.

He took a long dramatic inhale before shutting his eyes, “Nate told his mom about running into you and then she called your mother and we’ve been waiting for you to bring it up to talk about it,” he opened his eyes and glanced away from his phone, most likely her mother.

“I forget how tiny that town is sometimes,” she muttered before she ran her hand across her eyes.

“Are you guys talking?” her mother shouted, it sounded faint through the phone.

“We’ve been texting but he’s busy-you know- being a professional athlete.” she explained while laughing nervously.

~~~

The series against the Predators ended with a sweep for them which led to a long break until the next one for the Avalanche. Which led to Nathan coming over to help finish decorating her apartment. Aka, she went on a late night shopping spree while wine drunk and now her living room is full of boxes once again.

The doorbell rang and she felt her body jolt. She walked towards the door, taking in a deep breath. She pulled the door open and Nathan was standing there holding a bottle of wine. He smiled widely once he met her gaze.

“Hey,” he mumbled. She smiled as she stepped aside letting him into her apartment.

“Hey, you didn’t have to bring anything,” she expressed, referencing the very expensive bottle. He glanced down, smirking. 

“It’s actually not meant to be drunk tonight,” he let out. Meeting her eye, she nodded as she watched him delicately place it down onto the counter. Squinting her eyes suspiciously as she pursed her lips forward. He pressed his lips together as he continued to look into her eye. 

“I know it was a long time ago but I’ve been doing some thinking. The last time we hung out before I started playing for Halifax we talked about what would happen when I joined the NHL. Do you remember?” he asked, a smile toying to his lips. She shook her head as she leaned against the counter. “We talked about what would happen if I get a chance to win the Cup.”

She nodded, “Oh yeah,” she said with a smile.

“We talked about if I win, we’d drink a $500 bottle of wine and celebrate just you and me,” he expressed. She glanced down towards the wine before flickering her eye back towards him. Furrowing her eyebrows slightly, she tilted her head to the side. 

“Every playoff run I’ve thought about that conversation. Even though you were back in Nova Scotia, I still thought about it,” he explained as he tapped his fingers against the countertop. “This was the first season I bought a bottle. I bought it two days before we ran into one another at the coffee shop,”

“Wait, so you bought it before you knew I moved here?” she mumbled.

“If we won the Cup, you were going to be one of the first people I called,” he explained as he smirked towards her. She nodded as she took in sharp breath, “Anyway, let’s get to decorating.” he said switching the subject quickly. She pursed her lips forward as she delicately took a hold of the bottle. Slowly, she delicately ran her thumb across the label, hoping she would get a chance to open it with him.

“I’m looking forward to opening it,” she let out nonchalantly as she put the wine bottle onto a different more secluded counter.

He chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Gotta win the Cup first,” he mumbled.

“You will, Nathan,” she said with a wide smile. He smirked as he stumbled backwards towards her living room. “I honestly don’t remember what I bought, so this should be fun,” she sat down in front of one of the boxes as he followed in pursuit. Without hesitation, he ripped open the box. He pulled out a picture frame an empty picture frame.

“An empty frame?” he let out while chuckling. She rolled her eyes playfully as she attempted to rip open the box in front of her.

“I told you I was wine drunk,” she defended as she finally ripped open the box. She let out a sudden laugh as the blanket she purchased came into full view. It was a red and white Habs blanket. She pulled it out and held it towards Nathan. His mouth fell open as he giggled.

“You’re going to have to put that away when I come over,” he said while shaking his head.

“Oh, just wait,” she teased while raising her eyebrows. She stood up from the ground and quickly sped walk down the hallway towards her bedroom. After a minute she returned to her living room holding up her Habs jersey against her chest. Nathan looked up towards her giggled. 

“Who is it?” he asked while moving his head back and forth trying to see the number on the side. Spinning it around, she showed the Lehkonen on the back. He clapped his hands together while tilting his head back. 

“Now you’re just rubbing it in my face!” he let out while laughing.

“At least he plays on your team now,” she said as she sat down on the floor again, delicately placing the jersey on the couch directly behind her.

“Fucking great guy,” he let out while raising his eyebrows. 

The rest of the evening was filled with giggling and showing off the ridiculous decor she bought. It nearly reminded her of how they were when they were teenagers. It was as if there wasn’t a decade between the last time they hung out like this. 

It’s been years since the last time she felt so giddy. It was almost impossible to let him leave. They hovered at her door for several minutes before he slipped out of the apartment. Hovering for a long time, lot of intense eye contact. Subtle smirks and lack of distance.

~~~

Tonight was a roller coaster of emotions. It was game five against the St. Louis Blues and Nathan had a hat trick and an assist. It should’ve been more than enough to push the Avs to the third round. Except the Blues tied it late and won it in overtime. 

She watched the game from her couch, despite Nathan telling her she could hang out with the WAGs. She declined because it felt weird to her since she wasn’t a part of the club. She had her Habs blanket wrapped around her shoulders, squeezed tightly to her chest just beneath her chin.

Her gaze shifted towards the bottle on the counter a few feet away. Knowing that they will get to open that bottle this season. The post-game show was playing in the background but she was only half listening as she was scrolling through her Twitter feed. Most of it was about anything but hockey, it was a decent distraction.

Her eyes widened as her phone started to vibrate in her hands, Nathan was calling her. Her lips curled upward as she saw his name, she knew he wasn’t going to be in a great mood but she answered it anyway.

“Hey,” she mumbled.

“Hey, can I see you?” he asked, his voice was grogging and raspy. It was sudden but she hummed unsure of how to reply, she couldn’t tell how he was truly feeling. “Okay, I’ll be over in like ten,” he said before he ended the call. She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring towards it for a moment before she delicately placed it beside her. 

She took a hold of the TV remote and put on New Girl to have in the background. She kept snuggling the blanket in the pitch black apartment, the TV being the only bit of light.

Her phone buzzed beside her and she glanced down to see a text from her dad. She smiled as she lifted her phone to read the message: Give Nate a hug for us, he’s got the next one.

She replied quickly before she turned off her phone and wandered towards her kitchen. She reached into the freezer and pulled out a small pint of ice cream. Quickly, she took a hold of a spoon and began to eat some of the ice cream before Nathan arrived. He was very determined on sticking his diet so he would not be phased by it even if she was eating it in front of him. 

After a few minutes, there was several knocks on the door and she set the pint down onto the counter. She walked towards the door and pulled it open. Nathan stood in the doorway, he looked exhausted. His lips fell into a small pout as he looked into her eyes. She reached her hands around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist as he slowly stepped inside gliding her inside. The door shut behind them as he continued to hold her to his chest. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered as she started running her fingers through the ends of his hair for a moment. He pulled away looking into her eyes, as if for the first time.

“I’m just glad you moved here,” he let out as he continued to look into her eye. She furrowed her eyebrows, confusion written all over her features. His lips curled up into a small grin, “It was a tough night but next game we’ll win,” he let out.

“That’s it?” she asked suspiciously.

“We lost, did it suck, absolutely, but there’s next game and we’re winning it. Simple,” he explained before he slowly slipped away from her grasp towards the couch. 

“You used to go silent after games you lost. There was a time you didn’t talk for nearly two days after you lost a regular season game back before the Mooseheads,” she expressed as she quickly reached for her ice cream and walked towards the couch again. He let out a dry laugh before he rubbed his nose.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N, I’ve grown,” he said sarcastically while he took a hold of the Habs blanket and draped it over his lap, “You’re lucky Drouin’s over there,” he muttered as he held it open for her to sit beside him. Delicately, he laid it over her lap. 

Every times the Hab’s were even slightly brought up, he had to have a dig towards the fact that she was a fan, always hinting that she should convert to an Avs fan. Even left her a gift of Lehkonen’s Avs jersey on her doorstep. Said that Lehky’s gonna be sticking around, so you better get an updated jersey.

“It’s good to see you… like that,” she expressed, finding it difficult to get the right words out. 

“I would do the silent thing for a long time in the league. I would just get so mad that it was easier to stay quiet than talk,” he said as he held his hand out towards her. She stared towards him mildly concerned. He stole the spoon from her hand and took barely any ice cream and brought it towards his mouth.

“Did you just-”

“Yup,” he teased before he dropped the spoon back into the pint. She chuckled as she took a much bigger spoonful and brought it towards her own lips. “I’ve gotten a lot better and letting things go,” he continued. He took in a sharp breath, “Letting go most things,” he let out as he met her gaze for only a second before looked back towards the screen.

Swallowing hard, she stared towards his side profile. She was always fond of his nose, despite how crooked it looked since his teenage years, he was elegant. “What haven’t you let go?” she poked.

Looking back towards her, meeting her eye he fought the words he wanted to say. “It’s stupid,” he dropped his gaze towards his lap.

“Say it,” she pressed as she leaned forward, placing the ice cream onto the coffee table. 

“The night we talked about the Cup and the wine bottle or whatever back then, I remember that was the moment I realized I liked you,” he expressed, “I didn’t really realize it fully but that night I felt something for you I never felt before and then we never hung out again. Which was my bad so I-I guess that I never let go of the fact of what would have happen if I told you, I guess,” 

She smiled softly, staring down towards her lap. “What do you think would’ve happened?” she asked, sliding towards him slightly. He tilted his head back against the top of the couch. 

“Honestly, we probably would’ve gotten together and I probably would’ve ruined it,” he ran his fingers through his hair, awkwardly. 

“Why would you say that?” she pressed further turning her body towards him, leaning her head against the top of the couch. He turned his head, meeting her eye.

“Same reason why I stopped reaching out, being away from you would’ve been too hard,” he expressed. She nodded as she continued looking into his eye.

~~~

She was on the couch watching Nathan raise the Cup. He was crying tears of joy with the horrendous scraggly beard on his face. The Stanley Cup champion hat on his head, he had achieved his childhood dream. The summer of celebrations was about to happen. She wiped her hands across her cheeks, clearing the tears from her skin before she stood up. 

She took a hold of the wine bottle and placed it into the fridge because who likes warm wine?

A smile formed to her lips as the Avalanche jersey on her frame was something she never thought she would wear. Especially with how serious her dad was about the Habs. But she knew that he was rooting for Nathan and so was she.

She sat back on the couch and laid down as she watched the remainder of the broadcast, Nathan’s interview, and the team photo. An audible laugh fell from her lips after she watched Nicolas Aubė-Kubel drop the Cup. Everyone’s face was ridiculous.

She reached for her phone to see a text from Nathan: I can’t wait to be in Denver to celebrate with you.

The following morning she awoke to several missed called from Nathan almost as if he spent most of the night trying to get a hold of her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she began to call him back as she stumbled towards her kitchen and her coffee maker. 

It took a handful of rings before he answered.

“Hey,” his voice was nearly gone, so hoarse it was barely audible.

“Hey champion,” she teased.

“Still does not feel real,” he let out. 

“Denver was crazy last night, they’re excited for you guys to bring it home,” she explained. He chuckled.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he let out, “-And that wine bottle because it fucking happened and we are fucking celebrating,” 

It was that same night and she has spent most of the day simply waiting for Nathan. Ever since game five against the Blues, they started flirting more and the tension between them was getting more and more intense. 

It was hard to decipher exactly what was the tension from, lust or longing. It was impossible but tonight was the night she was going to try and dissect it and figure it out. She ran her fingers through her recently styled hair and stared into her reflection, trying to decide if she was happy with the way she looked. 

It didn’t matter as Nathan rang her doorbell three times. She leaped out of the bathroom and jogged down towards her front door. She pulled it open and smiled towards him. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. A giggle fell from her lips as slowly glided her inside of the apartment. 

“It was better than I ever could’ve imagined,” he mumbled against her hair. “Wish you were there to experience it,” 

She slowly pulled away, meeting his gaze as she rested her hands on the base of his neck, “I’ll be there for the next one,” she let out. He smirked as his gaze flickered towards her lips for much longer than he would like to admit. 

“Yeah?” he let out. She nodded, keeping his gaze towards her lips. “Where’s that bottle?” he said slowly slipping away from her grasp. Perhaps in the need of some liquid courage. 

She pointed towards the fridge and he immediately pulled it open to look towards the bottle that’s been on his mind for over a decade. He pulled it out and delicately rested it onto the counter. She had already placed two glasses onto the counter as he was fetching the bottle. 

He popped it open, a grin wide on his lips. They giggled as he happily poured two large glasses of wine. He placed it back down as he slid the glass towards her. He brought it towards his lips at the same time as she did and they both took a long sip. It was probably the fanciest wine she’s ever had. He shut his eyes content as he took in a long breath. 

It had been several hours later and safe to say they were giggling and incredibly wine drunk. They were laid across her bed, nearly a bottle and a half shared between them, both of them were quite the lightweight. 

“No-no cause look I’ve got a bruise from that hug-alright!” he let out while laughing, he tossed his body to the side to try and find the bruise from the impact, he was unsuccessful, it just ended in more fits of laughter. 

They slipped in and out of different conversations as they were sprailedd out on her bed, distant at times and really close at others. In this moment it was one of those times where they were incredibly close. Their nose bumping at times from how close they were.

“When I moved here, I genuinely didn’t think I would see you,”  she expressed. He hummed as he kept his gaze on her lips, his bright red cheeks were not hiding the fact of how intoxicated he was. Her rambling words were a sign of hers. “Like it didn’t even cross my mind that you lived here because it had been so long but I’m so glad I ran into you,”

“Me too,” he let out.

He reached over towards her and took a hold of her chin as he leaned towards her kissing her delicately. It wasn’t urgent but so delicate that it was almost a confession of love in the process. 

He pulled away, keeping a small distance between their lips. A smile formed to her lips before she leaned towards him, kissing him again. She slowly rolled onto her back allowing him to climb on top of her. 

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — nathan mackinnon x claus!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very pressing hidden clause in the job contract... 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — my mom and i watched this trilogy on a loop when i was growing up, so it only felt right to take some inspo!! <3

Most children would give anything to have Santa Claus as their father.

They wouldn’t if they knew what you did now.

Your father withheld a crucial detail throughout your many years of training. Perhaps the most important stipulation of them all—you cannot be Santa alone.

“Whoever wears the coat takes on the duties and responsibilities of Santa Claus. In accepting the contract, the cardholder acknowledges that they must marry the partner of their choosing before their first Christmas in service to retain the titles, privileges, and residence of Santa Claus. Failure to do so will result in immediate de-Santification.”

You needed a partner. Someone to act as caretaker to the elves and the reindeer, and to watch over the Workshop and general operations on Christmas night while you fly all around the globe, the embodiment of the season's spirit.

Santa Claus wouldn’t—and couldn't—be Santa Claus, if not for their other half.

You suppose you should’ve known, should’ve worked it out sooner. So much of what made Christmas special was because of your mother, the previous Mrs. Claus. In his many years as Santa, your father made a point to remind everyone of that. She is the steward of the season.

While Santa Claus tinkers with toys and checks the lists, charts travel routes and weather patterns, and develops contingency plans to accommodate the ever-evolving technology, their spouse keeps spirits bright. Without help, the effort was pointless. 

So, you should have realized. But you hadn’t, and now it might be too late.

“I have to find a husband in 28 days. If I don’t get married before Christmas Eve, I don’t get to wear the coat. I’ll lose the title, and the reins my family has held for thousands of years will pass to someone else,” you rant, tone carefully hushed to not rouse the temperamental husky one backyard over.

Your breath plumes away from you, rising before dissolving into the chilly Denver air. It reminds you of a snow globe, a bittersweet one.

“Who?” asks Nate.

Nate, like most of the world, is a Mundane, a non-magical person. He isn’t the descendant of Cupid or Mother Nature. Or a Santa Claus like yourself. He’s just Nate. Nathan MacKinnon from Halifax. Nathan MacKinnon, who now resides in Denver, Colorado, for work. 

It's well past midnight, and you’re sitting on his back porch with your head hung low and one of your reindeer, Comet, is nibbling on his icy grass.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a glum shrug. “Normally, it would go to the next child in line. Since I don't have any siblings, I guess the Council of Legendary Figures will convene and select my replacement.”

Nate nods.

In his eyes, you can see him listing off the members in his head. Mother Nature, Father Time, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, Sandman, Cupid, Jack Frost. To him, they’re mythical beings. Bedtime stories and folktales he was told as a child by the adults in his life. For you, they’re the closest thing you have to extended relatives.

And they butt heads like ones too.

“What will happen then? I mean, where will you go? Could you stay where you are now, just not as a Claus?” he asks.

“The North Pole is the only home I’ve ever known. All my family’s ever known. When the duty passes from one generation to the next, the predecessors remain in the village, but who knows if they’d get to stay if I fail to comply? It’s all in jeopardy now because of me.”

Nate lowers himself down onto the step beside you. He does his best to disregard the unpleasant feeling of his pajamas soaking in the snow, but you hear the wince.

With the snap of your fingers, the snow is gone, and his pants are completely dry. You’ve even warmed the concrete beneath him.

“Thanks,” he murmurs softly.

He doesn’t have to thank you; you’ve told him a million times. But he wants to. He can’t let you give without acknowledgment. Nate refuses to appear ungrateful, even for the little things that seem insignificant to you. Like vanishing snow or drying his pajama pants. 

Funnily, “Santa Claus” can feel like a thankless job. No one ever thanks you. They thank the persona, the relic. Nate wants you to know he’s grateful for your care and friendship, regardless of your occupation or magic.

Gently, he bumps his shoulder against yours. “You know there’s more than one person in a marriage, right?”

“Yes, but I haven’t exactly made an effort to find the other half of the equation,” you reply, deflecting. 

You always overtake blame. Nate thinks it might be your singular flaw. 

“I mean, it's hard because it's not like I can date like a normal person; my pool is small. And shallow. They either want me to give up the power entirely or give it to them instead. You remember what happened with Jackson Frost. All he wanted was the power his father failed to usurp. That should have been clear from the start. I guess I could see if Orpheus is still seeing the nymph Mother Nature fixed him up with. The whole narcolepsy thing, though not his fault, isn’t ideal, but the only other option is Val. And I’d rather not spend the rest of my life worried about flying arrows and jilted lovers.”

As the daughter of a Legendary Figure and soon-to-be one yourself, you haven’t had much time to date. Or even think about it, for that matter.

There was always a new wrapping paper to test for durability and shine or a machine on the assembly line that needed to be fixed before it broke any more dolls. Or a reindeer with a stomach ache refusing to fly. Or a fire in the kitchen that sets back cookie production by three weeks. Or a maniacal being with frigokinesis (the ability to manipulate snow) attempting to overthrow Santa Claus and assume control over the North Pole.

Crisis after crisis, all with very little personal time. That's why you opted for people who understood: the children of other Legendary Figures with dominion over their own holidays and cultural traditions. However, fraternizing with other magical beings comes with its own set of problems. For example, an ex-boyfriend and his father plotting to ruin your home, ancestral legacy, and a beloved holiday out of pure spite. 

“You’re forgetting someone.” Nate’s quiet voice yanks you out of the downward spiral.

“Who? Easter Bunny is our eternal bachelor who would sooner give up candy than have kids of his own, and Tooth Fairy’s kids are still, well, kids. Jack Smith recently took over as Pumpkin King after his father retired, but he’s not the nicest company. Especially when he’s drunk, which is, truthfully, most days. I guess I could look outside the Council, but —”

“Me. I’m talking about me. You forgot me,” Nate interjects with an impatient huff.

“What?” you blink in disbelief, assuming you misheard him.

There was no way he was throwing his hat into the ring. 

“I could be Mr. Claus. If you’d have me.”

Your face melts. If you'd have him? It wasn't even a question. 

“Nate, I could never ask that of you. You would have to leave everything—everyone, behind. You would have to give up a career you love and have worked so hard for. Not to mention abandoning all the friends you’ve made along the way. You would have to lie about where you live and who you married to—and what she does for a living for the rest of your life. Nothing would ever be normal again. I’m tethered to the North Pole, but I won’t lock you up there with me.”

“I’ve been dreaming about the North Pole since I was a kid. Long before you nearly knocked over my family’s Christmas tree and had to make it up to me with a ride around the block on Comet,” he says with a chuckle.

You snort, recalling the fire you almost started the first time your father ever brought you along for deliveries. You weren’t allowed down a chimney for a few years after that, but the friend you gained was worth the punishment. 

You take Comet to visit as often as you can and have been for years. He leaves out your favorite cookies on Christmas Eve, and you always save his house for last so you can spend the last hour of the season with your favorite person. 

But you always imagined a day would come when he finally grew up and stopped needing Santa Claus. For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve been planning for a broken heart.

You sniffle. Nate takes your hand in his.

“Knowing you—loving you has put that dream within grasp. You wouldn’t be locking me away because I’d go willingly. Happily. All I’ve ever wanted for Christmas is to go to the North Pole with you. To see where you grew up and meet all the people who made you as wonderful as you are.”

“Why have you never said anything?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t be able to. “Only elves, reindeer, and Clauses,” remember?” Nate smiles, mimicking your father’s response to a ten-year-old Nate’s innocent request. He even does the jolly belly laugh, which warms your heart. “Bernard wouldn’t even let me past the hanger if the sleigh didn’t toss me into the Atlantic first.

But in all seriousness, I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position with your father again. Or with yourself. I know how much the sanctity of Christmas means to you. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to show me something that would feel like intruding on the magic to you.”

All Nate has ever wanted for Christmas is for you to show him your home. All you’ve ever wanted is Nate. The only gift your father couldn’t make and the elves couldn’t build. In all her festive glory, even your mother couldn’t put what you truly wanted under the tree, though not for lack of trying.

Nate was the only person who could give the present of his presence, but you’d always been too fearful to ask, too worried he didn’t feel the same.

But here he is, crouched on a step in the middle of the night watching a reindeer chase a moth like a cat, telling you he’d give up everything to stand by your side. 

For you to be Santa Claus.

“Are you sure?” you ask apprehensively as if he were an animal you didn’t want to spook. “Sometimes we say things in the moment that we don’t really mean. Especially when someone flew 3,000 miles on a reindeer to throw a pity party in your backyard. You can take it back, and I promise nothing will change. No hard feelings whatsoever. I’ll still come and bring Comet to visit as often as possible. And you’ll stay on the Nice List, don’t worry. I wouldn’t even dream of —”

Nate cuts you off with a kiss. Sweet and perfect, and full of promise. The kind of kiss you dream about as a little girl, wondering what your Prince Charming might be like when he finally arrives. And tonight, yours did.

Albeit, the cape was missing (you preferred flannel pajamas anyway), and he hadn’t ridden in on the back of a mighty steed (you crash-landed on a reindeer-back, if that counts), but it was magical all the same.

“Wait!” you burst, abruptly pulling away. “What are you going to tell your parents? ‘Hey, Mom and Dad. Yeah, no, everything’s great. I just quit my job, sold my house, and moved to an undisclosed location—all without warning. No reason to worry!’ Somehow, I don’t see that going over all that well.”

“We can tell them we’re in Alaska and that you’re a toy maker," Nate casually supplies. He sounds like he's talking about the weather or what he had for lunch, not a life-altering cover story. "You couldn’t leave because your workshop is there, so I decided to move to be with you. People move all the time, especially to be with their fiancés.”

Though your heart flutters at the title, worry still hangs low over your head. You know how much he loves his family; you can’t bear to be the reason they’re separated indefinitely. 

“But when I find a way for them to visit, how would we swing that? The sleigh is big, but it's not airplane-big. Curtis is a master of disguise, but even he couldn’t make the sleigh look less like a sleigh.”

“Doesn’t Sandman owe your dad a favor?” Nate winks.

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[mikkomacko]

blurb with nate mack, make it soooo sweet please ❤️🥰☺️

His eyes had been following you all night long. From the moment you met him outside the locker room of Ball Arena, tucked into your white Avs hoodie and leather jacket ready to face the Colorado cold, Nate had stars in his eyes.

He’d put his game-day suit back on, but the top buttons of his shirt were undone and he now wore a wool coat instead of the suit jacket. A beanie that always got left in his car was pulled over his head but his damp blond hair was peeking out from under it, curling up towards his ears like wings.

“Hey,” he simply greeted, right hand coming up to straighten out your necklace. It was a thin gold chain with his number, the 29 now resting comfortably between your collar bones.

You slipped your arms around his waist, stepping into his chest and that right hand now found your lower back, holding you closer.

“Hi,” you replied, tip toeing in your boots to peck a kiss to his lips. “Think you can score that goal a little earlier next time?”

A teasing smirk lifted your lips and you watched the way his eyes followed it, the comforting blue of them lighting up with your smile. “Lucky I didn’t make you wait until a shoot-out.” He replied, knowing how you couldn’t stand the anxiety of watching them.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his little chuckle as he took you by the hand and led you back through the arena to the players parking lot. Most of the guys had left by then, already heading to the roof top bar one of the wives picked for tonight’s celebration. Nate always took the longest to leave after a game, following his diligent and relaxing recovery routine.

By the time the two of you joined the rest of the team downtown, they’d already established a large string of tall tables together and Mikko was drinking champagne straight out of the bottle. He saved two seats for you and Nate, sitting your boyfriend right next to him and letting you sit by the end so you could chat with Mel and Gabe. Of course Gabe and Mikko flittered around, squishing between other chattering teammates or delivering drinks from the bar.

Nate only got up once, kissing the top of your head before heading to the bar. He returned with an espresso martini for you and some light calorie beer for himself. Other than that, he was stuck to his seat with an arm stretched out behind you.

Throughout the night he sipped on his one beer, still sticking to his in-season diet. Even when you needed another martini, he’d send Bo with instructions to put it on his tab, not even sparing the younger boy a glance as he did so.

No he kept his eyes on you. You could feel his gaze on your mouth when you raised your voice over the music to answer Mel or when you laughed along with Susana at the expense of her drunk boyfriend. He watched you fiddle with the number on your necklace, straightening it out or simply rubbing your fingers over the cool metal. But his gaze was never heated, at least not with lust.

It was warm with love.

A glow of morning sun across your cheeks, the rays waking you up after a long night.

“You ok?” You asked him after Susana disappeared to the bathroom with Mel, turning your body towards him until your knees pressed into his spread thighs.

Nate hummed, turning to face you as his eyes flickered over your face like he couldn’t decide where to look. He rested his left elbow on the back of his chair, his foot locking around the leg of yours and he drug you closer.

“Perfect,” he finally replied, fingers finding the loose strands of your hair. He twirled his finger around a lock of curled hair, twisting it around his fingers mindlessly. “You?”

Cheeks flushing with heat, you leaned forward until your nose met his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You’re being sweet tonight,” you comment, pleasant goosebumps rising on your arms as he continued to play with your hair.

“I’m always sweet.”

You laughed. “Extra sweet, then.”

His chest fumbled with laughter, the breath of his chuckle hot on the crown of your head. Nate stayed quiet and you left him to his thoughts, closing your eyes to simply enjoy the feeling of his body against yours.

You don’t how much time had passed before he pulled you back by the collar of your leather jacket, nudging you to look up at him. Compliant, you met the warmth of his gaze and noticed the way he just seemed to glow extra tonight.

“I love you,” he said, lips curling with a smile. “I don’t think I say it enough but yeah. Love ya kid.”

Giggling, you cupped your hand behind his neck and drug his mouth down to yours.

“Love you more, kid.”

Sealing your lips together, you decided that he does say he loves you enough. But you’ll never complain for him saying it extra.

[fallinallincurls]

I ADORE Noah MacKinnon you don't understand 🥹 can you write a little something about Nate being a good husband and turning off the monitor and your alarm in the morning to go get Noah up for you and making you breakfast in bed?!

i am LOVING the requests for nate and little noah omg. here you go!

nate wakes up by the familiar sound of cries and whimpers coming through the baby monitor. the clear sign that noah is awake. nate rolls over, gently pulling his arms away from around your body and sees the 5:42 time glaring back at him on the alarm clock. he rubs a hand over his face and before you stir at the sound of your son's cries, nate turns off the baby monitor and your alarm before getting up. you could use the extra sleep so he is going to make sure that happens.

after pulling on a pair of gray sweats, nate pads down the hallway to the nursery and carefully opens the door to see little noah sitting up in his crib, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"hey, bud. good morning." nate murmurs softly, picking the one year old up and holding him close to his body. noah's cries begin to quiet the moment he settles against nate's bare chest. a tired, but loving smile blossoms over nate's lips as he starts bouncing to soothe his little boy. "we're not gonna wake mommy, okay? let's go get you some good and make breakfast for her, yeah?"

noah starts babbling happily, all his tears have dried up and the cutest smile appears on his adorable face. nate kisses the top of his downy reddish blonde hair before heading downstairs. nate moves around the kitchen put noah's breakfast together and then settles him into his high chair.

"alright, noah. eat your breakfast and we can go surprise mommy." nate says, his voice is quiet but full of happiness. noah giggles, reaching for the fruit and cut up pancakes on the tray of his high chair. nate continues talking to noah as he makes all your favorite breakfast foods and pours coffee to make it the way you like as well.

an excited squeal comes from noah, signaling he's finished his breakfast and nate chuckles to himself. he never thought he would be a dad, let alone love every minute of it, but he wouldn't trade this life for anything.

settling his son against his hip, nate carries the breakfast tray upstairs carefully. noah starts playing with the hair at the back of nate's neck and is babbling until nate goes "shushhh!" playfully before walking into the bedroom.

you're sitting up against the headboard and nate can still see the traces of sleep on your face. but you offer him a beautiful, sweet smile and nothing else exists outside of this moment.

"hi bubs! and hi little man! look at the two of you." you greet them both, taking in how amazing nate looks shirtless with your son in his arms and breakfast made for you in the other hand. his hair is still tousled from sleep and the smile on his face is gorgeous.

nate puts noah down on the bed and he quickly crawls over to you as nate places your breakfast on the nightstand and settles next to you. "morning, baby." he whispers, kissing you deeply.

"good morning, bubs. thank you for getting up and getting noah. and for breakfast. you didn't have to do that." you say before pecking his lips one more time. nate shrugs as if it's no big deal but blush colors his cheeks pink. "i love you."

"i love you more. it's the least i could do." he replies, pulling you in closer to him as noah settles in his lap. yeah, nate wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

supermarket run-ins (the start of something new)

summary: nathan mackinnon x f!reader // the supermarket meeting...eventually they'll get married (from this)

warnings: nate being adorably awkward

word count: 3.2k

< i'm gonna link this to a series called 'funny how life works out' (in the works) on my main masterlist and if there's anything you want to see from this universe, please shoot me an ask, my requests are open! >

Nate knew there was always going to be a risk of running into someone he went to school with when he came back to Cole Harbour: the place was pretty small, and nearly every time he’d gone out he’d see a familiar face hiding around the corner, but he wasn’t sure if he could take another awkward conversation, least of all when he was grocery shopping. 

It was early May, and the second round loss in the playoffs against the Sharks was still a remarkably sore ache, and the last thing he wanted was for someone to offer their condolences for it: he knew people meant well, but sometimes it did just rub salt in the wound – and for that reason, he decided the best course of action was to do his grocery shopping a little way out of town and at the strangest time possible, i.e. seven A.M on a Thursday morning, because who the fuck else would be insane enough to go grocery shopping that early in the morning?

Or, at least, that was part of his strategy. The other part involved wearing his sweatpants and zip up (it was chilly that early in the morning) and a baseball cap inside to make himself seem as glum and as unapproachable as possible. He wasn’t necessarily trying to hide his identity – it never worked with a baseball cap in those superhero movies – nor did he actually believe that people in Halifax would genuinely care who he was, because he wasn’t the only person to have made it to the NHL in these parts, and he certainly wasn’t the most famous, either. In fact, people were more blase about it than not.

Still, that didn’t stop him from keeping his head down when he walked through the doors as soon as the store opened, nor did it stop him from keeping his eyes on the floor as he navigated his way through the aisles, listening rather closely to the faint music playing over the intercom as he picked up a basket and made his way for the fresh fruit and veg aisle. 

Despite having only been back home for a few days, he already had plans, and those plans consisted largely of cooking, eating, working out, and then walking the short distance from his house to Sid’s so they could mourn the devastating loss of their Stanley Cup for this year. Though, Nate did feel as though he had more of a reason to mourn this time: Sid had won it three times already, and this season the Penguins didn’t even make it to play-off contention, whereas the Avs had. Second round. Still bitter. And Nate had yet to get his hands on Lord Stanley.

Even the mere thought of it made his jaw clench. He wondered what he must look like to an onlooker: murderous glares at the carrots usually weren’t a good sign for anyone. In fact, even that thought had him swiping a bag of carrots and looking both ways down the aisle as a precaution, as though he was guilty of doing something – yet, as far as he was aware, the only thing he was guilty of was being this miserable sore loser at seven-ten in the morning. 

He reckoned that was a new personal record – he could usually hold it off until half past the hour, but it seemed the early morning pining had gotten to him exceptionally early.

He took a step to the right, reaching for the bag of lettuce, when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Usually he wouldn’t have bothered looking: he was in a supermarket, and people were expected to walk through pretty often, but he’d been the only person sad and mad enough to wait outside the doors until they opened up, and he knew for a fact that no one else had followed him in immediately after.

Only, when he turned his attention to the end of the aisle, he saw someone. A woman. She was walking down towards the back of the store, the aisle directly in line with his. He didn’t know if she’d seen him, but she had headphones on and was wearing athletic gear: shorts, trainers, a long-sleeved top under a short-sleeved one. Nate knew that because he recognised the logo on her shoulder and he had one of his own, only it a different colour, and it was much bigger.

He blinked, turning back to his own list. 

He didn’t make it through another five seconds before giving in and looking back at her. He couldn’t quite shake the air of familiarity she encompassed. Even though he hadn’t seen her face, there was something undoubtedly recognisable in the way she moved and stood.

He’d seen that woman before. Knew her, even. He didn’t know who she was, but he knew that much. He just had a feeling, the kind that settles so delicately in your bones and has your heart pounding just that little bit faster – he couldn’t quite ignore it.

Still, he continued on with the rest of his shopping, even going so far as to treat himself with some cake mix (that he was probably going to just bake and give to his parents, because he’d have one slice and get bored and before he’d know it, he’d have to throw the entire thing away because it’d gone stale), and it was as he was making his way back up to the tills, walking straight through the ready meals aisle, that he saw her again.

She was standing in front of the refrigerated section, her basket on the floor as she held two boxes in her hands, seemingly undecided on something. A small part of him hoped that she’d see someone coming and look at them (him, really), so he could deduce who she was. In fact, a large part of him wanted that. It was all he wanted at that moment. He wasn’t sure if he could leave the supermarket without figuring it out before he left – and he immediately shut that thought down because he sounded like an absolute creep.

He kept his steps mildly loud and purposeful, not moving too fast or too slow to rouse suspicion, and he kept to the centre of the aisle. At some point his hands seemed to have made the decision to take his cap off his head, because when he briefly looked down at his basket it was sitting on top of the cat food (probably for the better, because it’d be weird if he ended up saying he didn’t actually own a cat even though he had cat food – that was guessing he’d even end up saying something anyway: it was all rather a large question mark in that sense), and he ran an anxious hand through his hair, fluffing it up from where it had been squashed, before looking up.

The woman reached down, dropping a box into her basket, the other one nestled safely back on the shelf, and whether he’d timed the entire thing impeccably well, or whether she’d actually seen him, she looked up. Right at him. And, before he could even do anything consciously, his legs had slowed to a stop.

He was right. He definitely knew her. In fact, the very woman standing in front of him was the exact same one he’d had a crush on in school from the age of ten to…well, he wasn’t quite sure when it stopped because he left shortly after that, but now she was standing in front of him, smiling politely, and Nate instantly felt like a giddy ten-year old again.

It was you.

You, who upon seeing he’d stopped in his utterly bewitched stupor, had taken the headphones off from over your ears and had turned to face him.

All because he stopped in his tracks.

“Hi.” You said, picking up your basket on the floor and regarding him with some sense of confusion.

He blinked, his mouth falling open dumbly, the words sitting right there on the top of his tongue, but he seemed suddenly incapable of even stringing anything together. 

He shut his mouth almost immediately after that realisation, and the flush in his cheeks almost seemed inevitable — as did your curious quirk of an eyebrow, because even the people that didn’t know him well knew it was never a good sign for someone who was so used to being in the public eye, to stutter and make a fool of themselves simply trying to have a polite conversation.

“Is everything okay?” 

He didn’t know it was possible to blush even harder, but he felt it tingle in his toes and the tips of his ears. 

“Sorry, I—” he cleared his throat, heart hammering in his chest like there was no tomorrow, “You just took me by surprise, I guess. Haven’t seen you in years.” He managed, tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. He’d never struggled so much before, but old habits do die hard and he’d never been completely normal talking to you when he was ten.

A look of pleasant surprise crossed your features, and only then did it occur to him that it might be weird of him to say something like that, because you two hadn’t really known each other at all. A few weeks sitting at the same table didn’t exactly constitute the kind of friendship that’d be so profound you’d shock him.

“Would that surprise also have something to do with the fact that we’re apparently the only two people with the thought to go shopping at this time?” You ignored the latter half of his bumbling ramble, probably for the better, and instead seemed to find some relief in the fact that he had regained his ability to talk.

He didn’t quite know which was worse.

Nevertheless, he stuck on a smile and tugged awkwardly at his earlobe for a moment, “It might, yeah.”

You hummed, rocking back on your heels with the faint trace of an amused smile on your face.

It was only then that he noticed the old, slightly worn in Halifax Mooseheads logo printed squarely on the front of your t-shirt, and he very quickly averted his eyes — only the more he seemed to look at your face, the more obvious it became that you were every bit still as beautiful as you had been to his ten year old self, if not more. 

“So, where are you, how are you these days?” He asked, once again the words tumbling straight from his mouth with little thought, but you seemed to appreciate the question, if he read the look on your face correctly.

“I went to college in Montreal, and I’m still there. I work for a law firm as a legal translator…And I guess I’m doing well.” You shrugged, “What about you?”

Nathan swallowed nervously, the crushing weight of the loss almost crashing into him full force, and he knew he froze for a good couple of seconds, trying to get his head back into the present moment. He didn’t know if you could tell just where his mind had gone, or if you were just that patient, but you didn’t say anything or do anything to indicate his lack of immediate response.

“I’m good, yeah. I mean, I’m still reeling from the play-off loss, but it’s nice to come home and recharge.” He inhaled, “But other than that, Denver’s treating me well.”

“That’s good.” 

“As good as it can get to say I got absolutely no choice as to where I had to live when I was eighteen? I’d say so, yeah.” He agreed, feeling himself ease up a little.

He couldn’t get his mind to quieten, and he felt jittery; he didn’t know what to do with his hands and he knew all of that would be solved if he just stopped thinking so hard about a simple conversation, but all he could think about was his poor younger self, who, upon finding out he had to move to Minnesota, did wonder what happened to you.

If his younger self could see him now…

You laughed softly at his sarcasm, and he felt the clouds part for a moment – a laugh meant he wasn’t completely making a fool of himself.

“What are you doing here now anyway?” You asked, wandering across the aisle, your basket still on the floor, and he watched, one hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket, as you picked some cheese off the shelf and made your way back to the basket.

“I’m restocking my fridge and avoiding any possible run-ins with people–well, with people I went to school with, actually.” 

You just grinned, and for some reason he had an idea of what your next words would be before you even said them, “How’s that working out for you?”

Nate shrugged lamely, “There are worse people to run into.”

And from the comical look on your face Nate had an awful feeling that you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Is that why you’re here too?” He continued, acutely aware of the fact that you were mid-shopping trip, and he knew for a fact that even if he did want to keep standing there and chatting to you for a little while longer, he couldn’t. Not really. Still, it hadn’t been quite long enough yet to end it now.

If he did, he knew he’d regret it if it was the last time he’d ever see you again for the rest of his life.

You shrugged, showing no signs of his presence or conversation either dulling or pissing you off, and answered without hesitation, your basket now in your arms again, “Yeah, but I’m also busy for the rest of the day so I couldn’t go at any other time.”

“Oh, anything nice planned?” 

“It’s my Dad’s birthday, so there’s some family coming over and then we’re all going out for dinner.” There was a pause, and for a brief second Nathan felt himself get hot with panic at the mere thought of that brief pause turning into an awkward silence, but you spoke again, and his heart rate dwindled and his body temperature lowered with the help from the fridges, “You got any plans for today?”

Nate felt himself begin to nod before he could spew the words out, “Yeah.” He said, “I’m seeing Sid tonight.” It was only after he finished talking and had the chance to double-check that he hadn’t said anything wrong accidentally, that he realised that you might not know who Sid is.

He had no clue if you even liked hockey. In fact, he knew little to nothing about you apart from that fact that you were clever, played soccer quite violently from what he’d heard from some of his friends, and that you went to college in Montreal, and both lived and worked there now. And it was your Dad’s birthday today.

In fact, now that he thought about it, you hadn’t actually given him any indication that you knew who he was. You’d not said his name, how would he know you weren’t faking it to be polite?

He didn’t voice any of that, though. If he did, it wouldn't matter if you knew who he was or not, because the second he voiced exactly what was running through his head, this entire thing would turn into a car crash.

“Kind of crazy how that works out, huh?” You asked rhetorically, and Nate raised a brow, waiting for you to elaborate, “I remember you talking about him in class, and now…”

Nate grinned, only just resisting the urge to sigh in relief, and all at once his mind seemed to clear. It quietened; he could think properly now. All because you remembered him. 

He felt a little bit pathetic, actually, at how easy it was for him to physically brighten because of one vague thing from fourteen or so years ago (fourteen!), that he probably told everyone who would listen – but he had a strong visual in his mind, then, of everyone else on that school table tuning out his Crosby-rambling, and you were the only one listening. He remembered you’d ask him questions, and…you liked hockey, he remembered that now.

It was funny how a moment so insignificant in the past could feel like a tectonic plate shifting under his feet. 

“Oh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. God, he really did chat hockey a lot, didn’t he? “And they say don’t meet your idol.”

You fucking remembered him!

You breathed a laugh, and Nate felt something in his chest splinter at the sound, only when he seemed to really look at you next, you shivered, teeth pressed together and shoulders trembling. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before, considering you were standing in a cold aisle with shorts on, and him with full length sweatpants and a hoodie, but it was freezing. Really cold, and the guilt that came with that observation had him immediately stepping away slightly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should let you get back to your shopping.” He rambled nervously.

“It’s okay, I’m not really in a rush.”

What was he supposed to say to that? What did it mean? Was it an invitation to stay longer? To keep chatting? He had no fucking clue, and he was sure the chaos of his thoughts was unfortunately also mirrored on his face judging from the way you were now looking at him (or was he overthinking that, too?); yet, the only thing that came out of his mouth was: “It was nice catching up with you–”

“I have three days left before I go back to Montreal.” You interrupted, and Nate blinked.

He blinked again. His heart was in his throat. What–Oh. 

“Do you maybe want to get drinks before you go?” He asked, heart pounding so very painfully against his ribs. He didn’t know why asking that question was so nerve-racking, especially considering you’d half fone the job for him anyway, but there was something tugging at him that had his hands trembling slightly as he put his number in your phone. He looked over to see you doing the same on his phone, and though your fingers were shaking too he couldn’t say for certain if it was because of the cold or your own nerves.

“Tell your Dad happy birthday from me.” He muttered once he’d repocketed his phone and managed to make eye contact with you without a) smiling too hard and looking like a crazy person, or b) looking like he was constipated.

“I will.” You promised, “Have fun tonight, too.”

“I’ll try.” He managed a normal smile, “See you later.”

“See you.”

And he spent the entire walk back to his car trying not to scream out of excitement. He’d never been so giddy for later.

[asunsetgrace16]

✧ 𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧⎥ 𝗡𝗠29

Pairing: Nathan MacKinnon x fem!reader

Summary: It turns out that it is possible to die of a broken heart

Warnings: sad sad sad, swearing,

Notes: I take it back. Kind of. I don't think my groove is entirely back, or maybe it was just the fics I was working on. I wrote this in four hours around midnight and this is my first attempt at writing something sad. I will say that it was hard to not cry writing this, so hopefully 🤞 you guys feel some emotions too. There isn't much dialogue in the beginning. Also, broken heart syndrome is in fact a real thing

masterlist ⎥ navigation

Word Count: 3.7k

Nate is numb. He’s been numb since about 10:30 last night, when the police knocked on his door. He had been home for 20 minutes max, having just gotten back from Cale’s house, supper with him and Gabe and Mikko. Tracey was up in Calgary for a few days. Y/N had dinner plans with her work friends, it was Shannon’s birthday. The world tilted on its axis as he was told that Y/N was killed. They soberly tell him what happened forty-five minutes ago. Hit-and-run…they are looking for the driver…happened in the restaurant parking lot…no, she was the only one. Nate’s pretty sure he stops breathing, because he feels a firm hand on his elbow guiding him back into his house, coaxing him to take deep breaths. Blood rushes in his ears, and he thinks, Australia, their honeymoon. He lifts a hand to wipe his face. When did he start crying? 

The police stay for a while, watching him carefully until they are sure he won’t spiral into a panic attack, ironic all things considered. When he is semi-into it, they explain everything again. 

Ok,” Nate says, “would you...you mind, um, coming back in the morning? I need to hear this once some of the shock wears off.” His voice is quiet and strained. He doesn’t fight the tears silently rolling down his cheeks. They agree to his request, leaving with a handshake and squeeze on the shoulder, hints of agony shining through their masks of professionalism.

Nate stays sitting at his kitchen table, head in his hands. Sobs shake his body, uncontrollable and awful. He cries so hard he thinks he might cry himself sick. Eventually, he leans back, face twisted with emotion and damp with tears. Slowly, he heads to bed. Each movement is mechanical. He tosses and turns, his sleep is plagued by once-sweet memories of Y/N turned into cruel reminders that she was ripped from him.

Eventually he gives up and moves to the guest bedroom. He cries more, more than he ever has. He wants Y/N, he wants to kiss her, and hold her, and take her to games and-.

-

Next thing Nate knows, he is waking up to the sun streaming through the curtains. He is confused at first, the stiffness of the bed isn't what his bed feels like. As he opens his eyes, last night comes rushing back. He doesn’t want to believe it. They had just started their life together, with promises of love and kids and 60 more years. The tears start again, slower than the previous night but no less gut-wrenching. Reluctantly he heads to the bathroom. He looks worse than imagined. Red and puffy eyes that unfortunately make the blue pop, pale skin and chapped lips. Nate’s hands shake as he splashes water on his face. 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to get some semblance of a list to make sense in his mind. He shoots off a vague text to Bedsy, letting him know that he might be late for practice, not knowing how long the police will take. 

It turns out that it only takes half an hour. The same officers from the night before knock on Nate’s door at 7:30, introducing themselves and Parker and Walker. They recount the night before in more detail. Y/N was killed at 9:48 pm, during a hit-and-run in the restaurant parking lot. She was the only one, none of her friends were even injured. They tell Nate that it was an instant death, painless…that she didn’t suffer. Nate is frozen in his chair, back ramrod straight and hands clasped tightly. Walker leaves a copy of his first report, and his phone number in case Nate has questions. He walks them out, shaking their hands and thanking them for coming over again.

Returning to the kitchen, he pulls out a notepad and pen. Nate lists off the things he needs to do. Call his parents. Call Y/N’s parents. Call the funeral home. Talk to C-Mac and Bedsy and the team. Get through practice. 

He decides to wait on calling his parents, saving that for the afternoon. Same with the funeral home. He is in a daze the whole time he prepares for practice. He makes his usual protein drink, but he thinks that he used orange juice instead of water. Nate’s not sure. He also isn’t entirely sure how he made it to the arena without running a red light.

His whole walk to Bedsy’s office is stressful. He dreads the thought of having to have this conversation more than once. He knocks on the open door, seeing C-Mac there as well. 

“Hey Nate, I got your text.” Bedsy starts, looking at Nate, concerned, “You ok? Respectfully, you look like shit.”

“Feel like it too. Can uh, both of you come down to the dressing room? Like now? I have some, some uh,” Nate stops, swallowing, “some news, and I want to say it as few times as possible.”

“Sure, all right.” Bednar and C-Mac glance at each other, worried. They’ve seen Nate be not ok before, but this is new. Nate is silent during their trek to the dressing room, still holding his orange juice and green protein powder monstrosity. Bedsy opens the door, gesturing for Nate to go through first.

“Hey Nate, you forgot your jacket at mine last night. You didn’t pick up when I called.” Cale tells him. Nate is standing where Bedsy usually stands.

“Uh…ok thanks, Cale. I was um…I was a little preoccupied last night. Sorry” He responds. His voice is shaking, his hands are shaking, Bedsy and C-Mac are getting increasingly concerned and Nate feels on the verge of a panic attack.

Cale grins suggestively at him, “Ohhh, I see, I see how it is. Getting a little lovin’ on with Y/N I s-”

Nate interrupts abruptly, cutting straight to the chase, “Y/N is dead. She’s dead.”

The whole locker room freezes. Cale’s jaw drops. Someone's water bottle hits the floor.

“Holy shit-” 

“Oh my god.”

“Nate, you need to sit down.”

The voices swirl and blend around him. Nate’s vision loses focus, and cotton balls are stuffed in his ears. Hands find his elbows, easing him into a stall. Someone kneels in front of him. Nate stares, glassy eyes unseeing. 

Slowly, he comes back. His throat is raw and scratchy and he needs water. Mikko tosses over a water bottle and a clean, damp towel.

“Start from the beginning, Nate.” Jo urges softly.

So Nate recounts the story. The entire team is close around him as he repeats what he was told this morning and last night. Their faces reflect the horror and agony Nate feels. Tears fall when he says that her death was instant. He hears sniffles from somewhere, and everyone else is crying now, too.

“It’s good,” he says, “knowing that she wasn’t in pain, but it is awful knowing that there was no chance of saving her.” His voice breaks, he covers his mouth with a hand sobs as quietly as he can. Cale hugs one side and Jo’s on the other. Once the tears slow, he takes the towel that Mikko’s holding. 

“Practice is canceled, today and tomorrow.” Bednar says, “I don’t want Nate to be left alone. Cale, Jo, Mikko, go with him and grab Gabe too. I will talk to the league, see about rescheduling the game tomorrow. I will have to tell them, Nate.”

“No, you guys play. Say I’m out day to day or something. A practice muscle strain.” Nate objects.

“Nate, your wife died less than twelve hours ago. We will not be playing hockey. I’ll phone in and say we forfeit. I will tell Bettman that the news doesn’t go out until you, me, and C-Mac give an interview.”

“Ok.”

-

The afternoon follows a similar pattern. Cale drives Nate home, Jo phones Gabe. Mel brings soup when she comes with Gabe. She folds Nate into a hug as he cries. He makes the excruciating phone call to his parents and hers. Cale smartly suggests doing a triple call so there’s only one conversation. 

“Where should I bury her?” Nate asks, “Here, or should she be back home?”

“Nate, her home has been with you for years. Keep her close to you.” Y/N’s dad tells him. Nate nods forgetting that they can’t actually see him. Gabe takes notes while they discuss the funeral over the phone. Granite headstone, brown casket, service at St. Andrew’s and burial in the graveyard nearby. The reception will be held in the hall near Nate’s house. He doesn’t want people in his house. The date is set for March 5th. 

The media has a field day upon the announcement that the Avs have forfeited their game against the Stars. Sid calls him within a minute.

Nate forces the team to play their next game three days later on February 28th. It’s at home against Buffalo. They lose in an uncharacteristic fashion, so much so that the Buffalo players notice something is really wrong.

Gabe takes care of most of the funeral arrangements, and Nate is forever grateful. He meets with the funeral director, sending with him the clothes he picked out for Y/N to be buried in. Before he leaves, he hands Nate a box.

Opening it, Nate finds her purse. Her phone. A box with her wedding rings. Jo finds him with shaking shoulders and his head in his hands.

On March 2nd, a week after Y/N died, Nate asks for a press conference. The Avs lost both games they played in that week, with Nate a very conspicuous absence. Bedsy asks over and over if Nate is sure that he wants to go through with it.

“I’m sure. It won’t be a secret for much longer.” Nate says. Bedsy just nods. The trio of Nate, Bedsy, and C-Mac file into the media room.

Nate starts, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible. “I’m aware you all have been wondering where I have been this past week.”

The reporters nod. Nate takes a deep breath.

“On February 23rd, I received news. News that my wife was killed in a hit and run accident. It happened in a restaurant parking lot as she was heading to her car.” He stops as hands fly up. C-Mac picks someone.

“Nate, I am very sorry for your loss. Is this why the game was forfeited last week?”

“Yes, it was. It was a shock to all of us, and none of us were in any condition or mental state to play.”

“How is this going to affect the rest of your season?”

Nate scoffs quietly. His wife is dead and they are concerned with hockey. “I have decided to take an extended leave of absence from the team. I won’t be playing in the game tomorrow night, nor will I be for the rest of the season. My life was completely torn apart a week ago, I have more important things right now. I do ask that I be left alone right now, no reporters at my house or on the street. I want privacy.”

With that, Nate walks out. Cale is waiting to drive him home and he takes one look at Nate and pulls him in for a hug. He is tired of crying and tired of people saying they are sorry and tired of missing Y/N and tired of being tired.

-

No. 1 

February 24, 9:09 pm

Nate: Hey guys, I have some news.  Davo: Period at the end of the sentence. This won’t be good Nate: Y/N was killed last night, hit and run Sid: Oh my god, Nate Sid: Are you ok? Were you hurt? Davo: Oh shit Nate: I’m fine, but I guess that’s relative right now Nate: I wasn’t there. She went to dinner with friends. It happened in the parking lot Auston: I am so sorry, man. I realize that that is probably not what you want or need to hear, but I don’t know what else to say Nate: No no, it's ok. I appreciate it. I think I’m still in shock, so not much room for anything other that devastated right now Ryan: Is there anything we can do? Nate: No, not right now. Funeral’s on the 5th, if anyone wants to come. My place is full, but any of the guys would let you stay with them Sid: Of course we want to come, it's just a matter of whether we can Ryan: Even if any of us play, once the news is out most teams will probably want a player there for support Davo: I checked and it's in the middle of a break for us. Ryan and I will be there, Leon too probably Jack: We’re out west on a road trip, but I could try and pull some strings to come. Nico will try to be there too Owen: We are at the end of a homestand that day, but I’ll probably get to come. Can’t do much worse than we already are Owen: That was bad, sorry. Lame-ass excuse for a joke Nate: Don’t be. It almost made me not frown. Thank you Juraj: I’ll be there. We are in LA the day before. Newy will want to come Baby Connor: I’ve got a break before our trip down there. I’ll be there. Dammit why am I baby Connor again? Nate: Cause you are a baby. I really appreciate it, guys. Thank you Baby Connor: Dude obviously. You can’t just drop the worst news of your life and not expect your number 1 buddies to rally the troops and support you Nate: The kid’s gonna kill us all. I didn’t need to cry again but everything makes me cry now, I guess Baby Connor: Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to Nate: I know, just messing with you

-

The funeral goes perfectly. Nate’s and Y/N’s parents arrived a few days ago and have been staying with him. It’s a comfort to have them there, though most days he feels like he’s wading through quicksand. There is usually a teammate there, or two. Sid flies in the day before, same with all the guys from the groupchat. Naz comes from Calgary. EJ and Tyson come, and other Tyson and Bo make the trip out with Owen. Alex comes with Juraj. Nate spends the day crying silent tears and hugging more people than he cares to remember. Mikko, Cale, EJ, Jo, Tyson, and Sid are pallbearers at the funeral. He gives a speech, short as he can get away with. His voice breaks and wavers the whole time. Y/N’s parents and Nate’s say a few words, and the priest reads the eulogy. 

The weather is mild for the burial, Nate almost wishes it was miserable. The day passes in a daze, making awkward small talk with people he barely knows, Thankfully they leave within an hour. The rest of the people there manage to lift the mood a little and Nate moves from crying to barely frowning. Connor Bedard sticks close to him most of the time. Nate is grateful for him, he’s a good kid with a good heart. He hugs Connor extra hard before he leaves to catch his flight to Utah.

-

“Nate!” Cale calls, knocking on his door again. He’s normally never late, but things still aren’t normal. Nate was the one who suggested that they go skate, not practice, but just to skate. A change of scenery. Cale finally gives up and digs his key out of his pocket. He’s a little confused when he sees that none of the lights are on. Nate hasn’t been himself, but this is weird. Nate’s dog Aspen appears from the hallway. 

“Hey buddy, where’s Nate?” Cale asks him. Aspen circles Cale once before heading back towards Nate’s bedroom. Cale follows him. Nate’s door is shut tight and Aspen has his nose shoved in the corner. Opening the door, Aspen bounds to Nate’s side, where he looks to be still asleep. He whines, getting his nose under Nate’s hand.

“Oh my god.” Cale whispers. Nate is a shade of gray no living person should ever be. “Oh my god.” He moves to the bed. Nate is cool when Cale touches his wrist. He fumbles for his phone, dialing 911 when he doesn’t find a pulse.

-

“Sid…” Kathy calls up the stairs, “Get down here, you have to see this.”

Sidney hustles down at the tone of her voice. Kathy is standing behind the couch, remote gripped in one hand. He stands behind her, hand on her waist. Her hand drops the remote, coming up to cover her mouth as they hear the news.

"... and now we have saddening news coming from Denver, Colorado. It is with our deepest condolences that we announce the death of NHL star, Nathan MacKinnon. He was found early this morning after failing to meet teammate Cale Makar, for morning skate. Makar called 911 when he found MacKinnon in bed after he didn’t answer the door. According to law enforcement agencies, MacKinnon died peacefully at home overnight, but suddenly, with no chance of resuscitation once they arrived on the scene. His death comes just weeks after the death of his wife, Y/N. What this means for the Avalanche and the rest of the season, we don’t know. More, after the break.” 

Sid thumbs open his phone to the news app. Every headline is the same variation of announcing Nate’s death. Tears fall on the screen.

Colorado Avalanche teammates of Nathan MacKinnon, coach Jared Bednar, yet to speak on the star’s sudden death.

Breaking News: NHL Superstar Nathan MacKinnon, dead at 29. What does this mean for the Avalanche?

“The NHL offers its deepest sympathies and condolences to Nathan and Y/N MacKinnon’s families during this time of tragedy.”

“Nathan MacKinnon, announced dead this morning weeks after his wife, Y/N MacKinnon, was tragically killed…”

Details about Nathan MacKinnon’s death are expected soon.

-

THE COLORADO SUN

Details emerge on the death of Colorado Avalanche star Nathan MacKinnon

J.P Burrow, 12:00 pm March 30th, 2025

Four weeks ago, the hockey world was shocked when Nathan MacKinnon, 29, appeared in a press conference after being notably and unusually absent from two home games, both lost in depressing fashion to weaker teams. What he revealed that day was the furthest thing from what anybody expected.

We were told that a week prior, MacKinnon’s wife Y/N, 27, was killed in a hit-and-run car accident. Her funeral was three days later. Understandably, MacKinnon withdrew from the public. His teammates were a constant source of support, but that only goes so far when grieving your spouse. He decided to take the rest of the season off.

MacKinnon and Y/N were married for three years, and together for nearly ten. They were fan-favorites throughout the league, despite them being notoriously private. MacKinnon never smiled as much as he did when he was talking about his wife. 

Now, thirteen days ago, the world was rocked again when it was announced that MacKinnon was dead. Details surrounding his death have been revealed after an autopsy. The report revealed that his heart sustained damage after Y/N’s death, caused by a sudden, constant surge of adrenaline in the days following. This causes a disruption of blood flow in the heart, similar to a heart attack. It is fittingly called Broken heart syndrome, where the death of a loved one can trigger the condition. Death is rare, but it happens.

We reached out to friends of MacKinnon’s across the league, his own teammates commented in a press conference earlier today.

Connor Bedard: Nate was a close friend of mine, he helped me a lot when I first got into the league. I looked up to him a lot. Once I got to know him outside of hockey, I learned just how amazing of a person he is– was. I was shocked to learn that he died. We had just landed in Denver for our game against them when Cale [Makar] called me.

Sidney Crosby: It was a lot for all of us, the whole month. I’ve been close with Nate for ten years, he's my best friend, so to say that I’m going to miss him is an understatement. I saw how much Y/N dying crushed him, they were made for each other. Hockey was his first love, but Y/N was his true love.

Gabe Landeskog: The season changed for all of us after Y/N died and Nate took time off. There will be no replacing Nate, his skill, his passion…it left a hole. I’m not going to sugarcoat things. This will be really difficult to come back from. It won’t be this season, maybe not even next season, but we are going to fight, for Nate. He would want us to.

-

“He really died of a broken heart.” Cale says before turning to bury his face in his wife’s hair, crying silently. He hasn’t been the same since finding Nate, taking his own leave from the team.

For the second time in a month, the Avalanche and company are reunited, standing in black around a grave beside the one they stood around three and a half weeks earlier, but another person short. Y/N’s headstone will be put in the same day as Nate’s. EJ is holding Aspen’s leash, who took him in when Nate died. He’s retiring, he told everybody when they gathered the second time. The past month reminded him that life is short. He is moving back to Denver to take over Nate’s house. They had found a notebook in his bedside table that had the beginnings of a will written in it. He wanted EJ to have Aspen, and the house if he wanted it. Pictures, his suits, and Y/N's wedding dress were to go to his parents, donate his and Y/N's clothes, and box away his Avalanche gear and ship it to Sid in Nova Scotia. Their wedding rings go to Sid too.

“But now they are together again.” Jo says, smiling through his tears. The thought brings some comfort to them, knowing that Nate has been reunited with the love of his life, and won’t spend the rest of his life missing Y/N.

[cailinsblog]

Can you please write something, anything with Nathan Mackinnon, I've re read your imagines with him a couple of times, and I love it !

Omg yesss I love Nathan I got you💕💕💕

Nathan’s Little Rookie |nathan Mackinnon

Nathan Mackinnon x reader

Masterlist

Nathan MacKinnon was known for being intense and fiercely competitive on the ice, but off it, with his wife Y/N, he was the epitome of love and care. And ever since Y/N had told him two months ago that they were expecting their first child, that care had turned into full-blown protectiveness.

Y/N was barely showing, but Nathan treated her like she was carrying the most delicate treasure in the world—which, to be fair, she was. From the moment the pregnancy test showed positive, Nathan had stepped into the role of protective dad-to-be with enthusiasm that was both heartwarming and a little over the top.

---

It was a quiet Sunday morning, and the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of their cozy Colorado home. Y/N stirred in bed, slowly waking up to the smell of fresh coffee. She smiled, knowing Nathan was already up and busy in the kitchen. Sure enough, a few moments later, he appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray with a perfectly prepared breakfast.

“Good morning, mama,” he said softly, setting the tray on her lap before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Y/N chuckled. “Good morning, daddy. You didn’t have to do all this.”

Nathan shrugged, sitting beside her. “Of course, I did. You need to eat, and you need to rest. I’ve got everything covered.”

She took a bite of the toast he had buttered just the way she liked it and sipped on her decaf coffee. “You do know I’m only two months along, right? I can still make my own breakfast.”

Nathan gave her a pointed look. “You’re growing our baby. That’s more than enough work. Everything else? I’ve got it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, even as her heart swelled with love. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Nathan smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just want to make sure you and the baby are okay.”

---

Later that day, Y/N decided she wanted to tidy up the living room. She was halfway through fluffing the couch cushions when Nathan walked in and immediately froze.

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?” he exclaimed, rushing over.

Y/N looked at him, puzzled. “I’m fixing the pillows?”

Nathan gently took the cushion from her hands and placed it back on the couch. “You’re not supposed to be lifting things,” he said seriously.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “It’s a pillow, Nate.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, guiding her to sit down. “You’re supposed to be relaxing. Let me handle it.”

She sighed, but there was no arguing with him when he was in full protective mode. “Fine. But you’re going to have to ease up at some point, you know. I can’t sit around doing nothing for the next seven months.”

Nathan knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. “I know I’m being a little much,” he admitted, his voice soft. “But this is our baby, Y/N. I’ve never been more excited or nervous about anything in my life. I just want to make sure everything is perfect.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she leaned down to kiss him. “I know, and I love you for it. But we’re in this together, okay? I promise I’ll tell you if I need anything or if I’m feeling tired.”

Nathan nodded, though the protective glint in his eyes didn’t fade entirely. “Deal. But I’m still making dinner tonight.”

Y/N laughed. “Fine by me.”

---

As the weeks went on, Nathan’s protectiveness didn’t waver. He insisted on driving her everywhere, carrying all the groceries, and even vetoed her idea of reorganizing the nursery closet, claiming it was “too much effort.”

One evening, they were curled up on the couch, watching a movie. Y/N was nestled against Nathan’s side, her head on his chest as his arm draped protectively around her. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, the warmth of his presence grounding her.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad,” she murmured.

Nathan glanced down at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and vulnerability. “You really think so?”

Y/N nodded. “You’re already so dedicated and caring. Our baby is lucky to have you.”

Nathan pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I just want to give them everything, you know? And I want to make sure you’re taken care of every step of the way.”

“You already are,” Y/N said, placing her hand over his heart. “And I can’t wait to see you with our little one.”

---

One weekend, Nathan surprised Y/N by bringing home a stack of baby books. He spread them out on the kitchen table, his face lighting up as he explained each one.

“This one’s all about what to expect in the first year,” he said, holding up a thick, colorful book. “And this one has tips for new dads.”

Y/N chuckled as she flipped through one of the books. “You’re really going all in, huh?”

Nathan grinned. “Of course. I need to be prepared.”

They spent the afternoon reading through the books together, laughing at some of the more ridiculous tips and marveling at the journey ahead. Every now and then, Nathan would pause to rest his hand on Y/N’s stomach, even though it was still too early to feel anything.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said softly, his eyes full of wonder.

Y/N placed her hand over his, her heart swelling with love. “Me neither.”

---

One night, Y/N woke up to find Nathan missing from their bed. Concerned, she got up and found him in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair they had just assembled. He was holding a tiny onesie, his expression a mix of awe and anticipation.

“Nate?” she said softly, stepping into the room.

He looked up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, couldn’t sleep. I just... I can’t believe we’re going to have a little person in a few months.”

Y/N walked over and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Nathan nodded, his hand resting on her stomach. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you.”

Y/N kissed him, her heart full. “Me too.”

As they sat there, rocking gently in the chair, they both felt a sense of peace and excitement for the journey ahead. Nathan’s protectiveness, while sometimes overwhelming, came from a place of pure love. And Y/N knew that with him by her side, their little family was going to be just perfect.

[matthewtkachuk]

one day all my love will come back to me

Spending a mid-degree gap year in the guest bedroom of your best friend who you’ve been in love with for ages seems to be a recipe for disaster until a hook up with a player from a visiting team threatens to change your future forever 

pairing: nathan mackinnon x reader; brayden point x reader

warnings: creative liberties taken with the 2021-2022 regular season schedule and the availability/contributions of Brayden Point during the 2022 playoffs, typical angst associated with a love triangle with a hint of unrequited love, sexual themes (not quite smut but more than implied) and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc.)

word count: 10.9k

a/n: surprise @senditcolton i'm your summer exchange fic writer! i'm so so so sooooo sorry this is late, @wyattjohnston and i were having a hot girl european summer and it's not an excuse but a bit of an explanation. when i saw you had written brayden point twice in your players list, i knew it was time to dust off this fic idea i had last year and do her proper justice. i hope you like it!!! shout out to demi for the many "replace c with C" suggestions on google docs and @thomasschabot for the other suggestions. ok i'll shut up now, enjoy!!

The Avs are up by one with thirty seconds to go and you’re pretty sure you’re going to puke. It’s a good thing everyone is far too focused on the action going on at ice level to question why your gaze keeps bouncing between the good guys and a certain forward on the other team. It’s such a strange feeling—you want with your entire being for your boys to hoist the Cup, but there’s a small part of you that never wants to see the boy on the other team you care for so deeply, so upset. He was right, you both crossed the line past hooking up a long time ago. 

-

“You look hot.” 

In any other circumstance, those words from Nate would have your heart going into overdrive. As it stands, your heart is already pumping at a rate you fear is not healthy while you lie on a trampoline with your niece’s sprinkler set up beneath it. For every bitter complaint you’ve ever had about a Canadian winter, the opposing heat waves might just be slightly worse.

“A/C’s broken,” you say like that explains everything. 

Nate hums in response like maybe it does before pulling himself up beside you. 

Somehow the air around you feels even hotter, precipitation building at your hairline. You fuss for a minute, wiping away the sweat before dramatically slapping your hands down on the trampoline in protest. 

Nate ignores you, choosing to instead cheerfully proclaim “This is nice!”

“What do you want?” you ask in response. There are layers to your grumpiness, but for now you can pretend it’s all related to the unbearable heat.

“Can’t a guy visit his best friend?” 

You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep yours closed. “Not when it's 34 degrees out and humid as hell and he has to leave his air conditioned mansion to do so.”

“I saw your story and I was coming to invite you to my air conditioned mansion.”

“Is Sidney home?” Your tone is so much more nonchalant than you feel. It doesn’t matter that the aforementioned man went from Nate’s childhood hero to mentor to near-brother; it will never not be weird to have but one degree of separation from the man who’s name is on your town’s welcome sign. 

Nate laughs like he can read your mind, but you still don’t glance over at him. You don’t need to, not really. The image of him beside you comes all too easily to your inner mind. His hair’s got a wave from the humidity, his nose tinged red from the hot sun, and his chest golden and chiseled and harlequin romance novel cover-esque— 

“You know one day you’re going to have to get used to being around guys who made it to the show. Hell, I'm a guy who made it to the show.”

Finally you turn to look at him and he’s somehow even more beautiful than you’d just imagined. “That’s different Nate. You’re….you.”

He smiles at you and it’s brighter than the damn sun causing you so many problems today. “And Sid’s just Sid. And the guys in Denver are just the guys in Denver.”

His words have your nose scrunching and you promptly go back to laying flat on your back. “Don’t remind me.” There’s silence for a beat or two and then you continue, “Speaking of, are you sure it’s still okay—“

Nate doesn’t let you finish this time. “Yes, I’m sure it’s okay for you to hang around my apartment in Denver while you take a year off from school to figure out what you want to do.”

“Thanks Nate,” you reply and he hums in response. Abruptly you sit up, sliding a little from the slick trampoline surface. “Your A/C offer still standing too?”

He grins this time and you’re damn near blinded. “For you? Always.”

Sidney—Sid waves at you both from his kitchen when you pull up to Nate’s but that’s as far as it goes. Nate makes a joke about banana bread that you don’t quite get, mood souring considerably when you wonder aloud if he thinks Sidney will bring some over. 

It’s all forgotten when the cold air hits you as you enter the lake house. 

-

The summer passes by quickly without too much incident—just the nagging of your mother about your future and your own tiptoeing around the feelings you have for your friend. 

On one of your and Nate’s last nights before leaving for Denver, your niece pulls him aside and sternly instructs him to bring home the Cup for her. 

He laughs, but there’s something in his eye that says he means it when he says he will. That intensity doesn’t waiver, even as his gaze slides toward you. It has you thinking about a future by his side, celebrating those moments with him in a way so much greater than you do now. 

The thought doesn’t leave you as you kiss your family goodbye, trying desperately to not let any tears shed at the thought of no longer being a small distance away. Nate’s constant near proximity and the promise of more of it takes away the sting a little, but you fall into your sister’s embrace that little bit more all the same. 

Even as you do a final check of your things—two large suitcases, a carry-on and a backpack to house everything you’ll need for the next year—you think about it, of what it would be like to do this every year. What it would be like to pack with the intention of unpacking your things beside Nate’s in his closet. It’s silly, but sometimes you still feel like you’re fifteen years old, realizing you’re in love with your best friend as he goes away to the same hockey school as his idol. 

Two flights full of self doubt and Nate sleeping on your shoulder later you’re convinced spending your impromptu gap year at his place is a bad idea. But then he’s smiling and ‘welcome home’-ing you and you step through the door.

-

Unemployment and a mid-twenties life crisis isn’t so bad from the guest bedroom of a lavish semi-detached in the suburbs of Denver. The bed’s softer than the one in your childhood bedroom. Bigger too. And the closet leading into the attached en-suite has no business being the size it is. 

There are downsides of course. You are still unemployed and in the middle of a life crisis. Nathan is woefully unaware of your feelings and likely to never reciprocate. His teammates look at you like they know, though. And there’s the whole banning of any food that brings any modicum of enjoyment that you’re not entirely sure is serious or not. 

The teammates that come around are kind to you when you’re around them enough to let them be. A small part of it is the intimidation of them being professional hockey players but they’re good guys and you’ve met many of them before. Really, it’s something more akin to the inherent uncomfortability of your predicament. It’s Nate’s house and you’re free-loading. 

Of course he would argue differently if you voiced your thoughts and hang ups but that’s precisely why you don’t. 

Nate may have never caught onto your feelings for him, but he’s not an oblivious person. That’s probably how you end up in the family box, being personally invited to brunch with the Better Halves by the best-half-in-charge herself, Mel Landeskog. 

You find yourself nodding despite the anxiety of the possibility of making new friends, certain it’s less of an invitation and more of a demand. 

She tells you as much, pressing a mimosa into your hand when you arrive at a cute restaurant and a table full of beautiful, predominantly blonde women. If Nate’s teammates were intimidating on a personal level, their wives and girlfriends are a whole other level. Never in your life have you been so surrounded by a group of women so put together—every outfit perfectly on point, every head of hair treated to an expensive blowout, every foundation shade perfectly matched or worse, no makeup needed. 

It has you self-conscious, despite having spent ages picking out something to wear and trying to tame your hair into something presentable. The mimosa helps, and so do the compliments from Ashley Kadri. Little by little you open up, and by the end of brunch you have a killer buzz and a dozen new instagram followers and numbers in your phone. 

When Nate picks you up, the bubbles have gone to your head. You spend the entire ride back to his place with the back of your head pressed to the passenger side window so that you can grin stupidly at his side profile. 

“The girls are great,” you tell him with a silly giggle. His returning smile reeks of satisfaction of a job well done, but you don’t focus on it. “We’re gonna get dinner this week too!”

-

Although Mel takes you under her wing, it’s Heidy, Cale’s girlfriend who you instantly click with. 

She’s every bit as beautiful and kind as the rest of them, but you connect with her on a different level. It’s almost like you’ve known her as long as you’ve known Nate. She shares your love of Taylor Swift and gets your jokes and is more than happy to let you bounce future career plans off her. 

You can tell the girls have questions about your relationship with Nate, and truthfully they can get in line behind you. Sometimes, when you’re not careful, it almost feels like you’re not alone in how you feel. Sometimes it feels like you’re high school sweethearts, playing house on the precipice of a greater future. 

Nate doesn’t help it himself though. It’s you he calls on long road trips, you he pulls into a giant hug outside the locker room before driving you both home after a game. You who is invited to WAG functions as a connection to him—both informally in a social context and more formally and broadly. Things like charity toy drives and the family box at games. A part of you fears the possibility of playoffs—especially with odds so clearly in the Avs favor—and what it would mean to be so publicly claimed as Nate’s while privately remaining the way you always have been. 

It’s Heidy who you confide in. She’s always there to offer her ear, her shoulder, her opinion. And, although she encourages you to share your feelings, she also knows when to back off and let you do it when and if you’re ready. 

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready. 

-

With Christmas comes the Better Halves Christmas Tree Auction. It’s Mel’s favorite charity event of the season, she tells you gleefully. 

“Every event is her favorite,” Suzanna says behind her back later. 

Designated Favorite Human of the Avalanche Children is usually your favorite title, but it means you have one kid hanging off of you when the girls drop the bomb on you. 

“So what are you thinking for your WAG tree?”

It’s an innocent enough question, especially when you think it’s aimed at one of the aforementioned WAGs in the family box. Only when there is no response do you look up and realize it’s meant for you instead. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Your…Tree,” someone says slowly and you shake your head. 

Your tone and words are almost as flustered as you are. “No I heard you. I’m just—What do you—Why are you asking me?”

“Well, Nate said…” 

It all comes clear. Yet again, you’re expected to play the part. At great personal cost, mind you. It’s a mindfuck and a half, having to do all the things that you do for a man you love when it doesn’t mean anything. 

Your thoughts are invaded with a tempestuous mixture of Nate and your relationship or lack thereof and yet another public acknowledgement. 

Truly, you wonder if the others in the box pity you or laugh behind your back. 

“C’mon,” Heidy says later, when the final buzzer sounds, cementing another win. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Nate’s,” you correct weakly. 

She nods and repeats his name, grabbing your arm and leading you away. 

-

You’re stewing in silence when Nate comes home. 

“You okay?” he questions upon finding you in the living room, lit up only by the light filtering in through the large bay window. 

The twitch of your eye is the only indication you’ve heard and recognized his words for a long moment. You can practically hear the gears whirring in his head, can feel the moment he’s about to speak again. 

Not wanting to give him the opportunity, you ask, “Why?” His brows furrow and his head tits and so you continue. “Why did you say I would do your Better Half tree?”

“It’s for charity…You love charity work.” Nate visibly relaxes and you understand why. He’s not wrong, engaging in charity work has been a big part of why you’re not wallowing in self pity, but this isn’t just simple ‘charity work’ and you tell him as much. 

“I love toy drives and helping at the soup kitchen and adoption events at the ASPCA. This is different, this is your WAG tree. It means something. It’s in your name, like I’m—I’m—“ you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“Everything you mentioned you do in my name.” He doesn’t seem to get it, frustrating you further. 

“It’s not the same, Nate! All those other things I do as part of the larger group. It’s all facilitated by your team and your teammates ‘Better Halves.’ Their wives and girlfriends. They’ve all made me feel welcome, but I'm not one of them. This implies that I am one of them, but I’m not your girlfriend and certainly not your wife.”

“You basically are.” The phrase has your heart jumping into your throat. Of every daydream or fantasy you’ve ever allowed yourself to slip into, you never dreamed this would be how it all went down—“Without actually being my wife or girlfriend.”

“Right.” Your voice is short and clipped, masking the hurt quickly overtaking you. You won’t cry—you’re stronger than that. So strong in fact, that you lay down a firm boundary. “I won’t do it. Get Sidney to do it or something.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, pausing and then asking, “We’re good, right?”

“Yep.” You feign nonchalance and then wish him a good night. 

The pillow holds all your tears and secrets. 

-

The incident sticks with you, despite your many attempts to shake it off. Even Heidy can’t help. She tries anyway. 

You’re not his. 

But you are. You’re his and you have been for years now. Since he was leaving for school. Maybe even many years before that. Regardless of the true beginning, it doesn’t quite matter. What really matters is this: you’re not sure it will ever have an ending, but you’re almost certain if it does, it won’t be the one you want. 

You’re his but he’s not yours. 

Part of him is, sure, but you share that part with the other residents of Cole Harbour. The other part with the team and his teammates and their families, with the fans and the haters alike. The part you so desperately want to be yours has belonged to many a woman, but never to you. 

It was a lot easier to live in the space between his childhood best friend and everything more when you were separated the majority of the year. A summer chock full of other things to do and focus your attention on to keep the longing at bay and enough distance for the rest of the year to forget how it feels to have him near without really having him. 

One of Heidy’s distraction schemes involves hitting up downtown Denver a few nights later. 

“But it’s Thursday,” you say when she shows up at Nate’s dressed up like she’s ready to hit the bar. 

“I have tomorrow off and you don’t have a job, so,” she replies. 

You frown, “Ouch.” She throws a look your way as if to not take it so personally and continues perusing your closet. “I’m not really feeling up to going out tonight.”

“Too damn bad,” she replies. “You can’t just sit here and wallow for the rest of your life.”

“Watch me,” you retort but start to get up anyway. 

She smirks and tosses some clothes at you. “Get dressed and do something with your hair. I’ll do your makeup.”

“Where are you guys going all dressed up?” Nate questions when he spots the two of you in the foyer. 

“Out.” Heidy is curt, a consequence of her not only being a good friend to you, but also her own awareness of his behavior. 

His brows knit together but he soldiers on, “Do you want company?”

“Nope!” She’s much more cheerful now that she’s handed you your coat and bundled herself up. “Don’t wait up!”

Heidy drags you out to Cale’s car, where the man himself sits waiting. You instantly feel bad—between your protesting and actual time spent getting ready, he’d been sitting a while. 

“Have you been here the whole time?” you ask as you get in the backseat. He shrugs with a rosy smile as Heidy pushes you in further and takes a seat beside you. After pressing a quick kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek over the center console, of course. 

Cale doesn’t stick around after dropping you both off—a wave, a ‘be safe’, and ‘call me when you’re ready to go home’ and he’s gone. 

You’re terrible company admittedly, mouth set in a deep frown that doesn’t crack even as you sip your drink. Heidy does most of the talking at first, blabbing away about everything and nothing. Until she sighs, slaps her hand down on the bar top and says, “You need to deal with this. Either you need to resolve things with Nate or you need to get over it, distract yourself with something or someone else.”

You nearly choke on the last of your drink. “Gee, Heidy, could you be any more subtle?”

“I’m worried about you.” She’s so earnest it tugs at your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll try. Really.” 

She smiles, relaxing into the seat at the bar top. 

Just then, the bartender sets another drink in front of you. 

“I didn’t order another,” you state politely, attempting to hand back the drink. 

The bartender shakes his head, motioning to the table in the corner as he speaks. “From someone at that table.”

It’s a group of athletic men, but only one is looking your way. He’s all intense eyes framed by intense eyebrows, but the look on his face doesn’t match the intensity. It’s…intriguing to say the least. Soft but confident, and definitely interested. 

It’s not until one of the other men at the table elbows him that you realize they’re the team playing the Avs tomorrow night. 

Quickly you spin back around and whisper to your friend, “Someone from the Tampa Bay Lightning just bought me a drink.”

Her eyes widen and she herself turns around quickly to get a glimpse of your admirer across the bar. You grab at her arm and bring her back to face the bar top. 

“Heidy!” you hiss. 

“Sorry!” she replies, “What are you going to do?”

You think about it for a second before throwing caution to the wind. Putting on your flirtiest smile, you turn around a lot more gracefully this time. Raising the gifted drink, you tilt it in a ‘Cheers’ motion before wrapping your lips around the straw for a sip. He responds with an identical gesture, although with an amber colored beer bottle instead. 

Satisfied, you resume your earlier position while Heidy speaks. 

“When I said you needed a distraction that is not what I meant!”

You roll your eyes. “It’s a drink, not a marriage proposal. Relax.”

She does, until you pull her out to the dance floor with eyes only for the man across the bar. Lucky for you—and less lucky for Heidy’s resting heart rate and blood pressure—he’s got eyes for you, too. 

It only takes half a song for him to approach and introduce himself. “I’m Brayden.”

You smile and reciprocate, waiting a beat for Heidy to speak too, but she just tilts her nose up. An elbow to her side doesn’t get her speaking and so you introduce her, too. 

One of Brayden’s eyebrows raise and you find yourself momentarily mesmerized by the action before quickly explaining, “Big Avalanche fans.”

He nods slowly once, then shrugs. “Maybe I can change that.”

“Doubtful,” she says under her breath, but if you heard it, you imagine Brayden did too. 

She doesn’t thaw any, even as the song changes. Nor does she get the hint to take herself elsewhere and so you rather pointedly ask if she can go get you both another round. 

Heidy isn’t even able to get out whatever she was ready to grumble before Brayden is offering, pausing to ask what Heidy is drinking. She begrudgingly tells him and he disappears. 

“Seriously? You could have any guy here and that’s who you go for?” she asks. 

You shrug, “He’s the one I want.”

She softens at your earnest tone. “Okay.”

“Call Cale,” you tell her. “Go curl up on the couch and watch TV together or whatever you would have done if you weren’t worrying about me.”

“I don’t know…”

“Go. I’ll be fine. And I’ll text you if I need you,” you confirm. 

She sighs. “I’m waiting for my drink first.”

You laugh and pull her into a side hug. “Love you.”

True to her word, she finishes the drink Brayden brings her—even managing a ‘thank you!’—before slipping off into the crowd and, you imagine, into her boyfriend’s car. 

Brayden looks a little concerned at her rapid exit. “Did I do something to make her leave?” 

“Besides playing for the wrong team? Nah.” 

He doesn’t look convinced, but the concern fades when you wrap your arms around his neck. 

It’s all but gone when you press your lips to his. 

You dance for another few songs and another drink before your inhibitions are just low enough to drag him in the direction of the bathrooms. 

The men’s is empty when you enter, and so you flip the lock on the door and press yourself against him. 

He reciprocates, crowding you against the door with his mouth hot on yours. 

Your whole body lights up at his touch, coming alive beneath his fingertips. There are no thoughts of Nate or the predicament you’ve found yourself in, just Brayden. 

His hands are curved around your jaw, and your leg is wrapped around his waist when he pulls away. “Wait...wait.”

“You don’t want…?” You’re not drunk, just a little bit more sensitive to rejection than you usually would be. 

“No that’s—That’s not it at all. I want you, like, really want you.” He kisses you, and as good as his touch feels, being wanted feels that extra bit more. “Not like this. Not here.”

Truthfully, you’ve never been the kind of girl who lets someone hit and quit in a bar bathroom before. Or anywhere really. A part of you that you thought was long buried stirs inside of you and you realize for the first time in a long time you’re feeling something for a man who isn’t your best friend. 

Your best friend. Shit. “I have a kind of odd living situation right now, my place isn’t an option.”

“Your parents?”

You bark out a laugh that he immediately covers with his mouth. “No, they’re back in Canada.”

“Your husband? Your boyfriend?” He’s joking, but you can’t help but get the sense there’s an ounce of worry that he’s right. It’s such an inconceivable notion that Nate could ever be either to you that you laugh again. 

“No, I just live with a friend who probably won’t be understanding about a strange man in their house.” 

Brayden visibly relaxes, pauses, and then says, “I have a hotel room…you’ll have to be quiet though.”

“I can be quiet,” you reply, barely hiding your smirk. 

You try your best, really give it your best effort, but no one has ever touched you like he does. 

Nate doesn’t cross your mind once. 

-

You sneak out early in the morning, determined to not have a semi-public walk of shame in front of an entire hockey team. It’s almost a success until you run into his captain in the lobby. Feeling your face grow hot, you give him a little nod and escape to the waiting Uber. You can only hope he doesn’t get too much shit, telling him as much using the newest number in your phone. 

You’re not nearly as lucky, facing the firing squad that is Nate as you slip into the entryway. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see your best friend awaiting your arrival, if the several messages that popped up when you’d finally opened your phone to send the aforementioned text to Brayden were any indication. 

“Where have you been?” he asks and you have to keep from rolling your eyes. 

“Out,” you say, calling back to Heidy’s response last night but he doesn’t accept it as easily coming from you. 

“All night?” he continues the interrogation. 

“I crashed at Heidy’s last night, what’s with the fifth degree, Dad?”

He looks like he was waiting for this moment as he replies, “No you didn’t, I talked to Cale.”

This time you do roll your eyes. “It’s none of your business, Nate.”

“It is my business if you’re under my roof,” he says, doing his best impression of your father for real this time. 

You know it’s not his intention, but your stomach drops all the same. The old feeling of guilt and shame and failure floods your veins, and you can tell he notices. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just worried and you didn’t answer my messages.”

“I know,” you say but the words taste bitter in your mouth. “I’m going to go get some more sleep. See you later.”

He repeats the words back at you, but you’re more focused on the buzzing phone in your pocket. 

Safe in Nate’s guest bedroom, you slip into something more comfortable, get beneath the covers and open your messages. 

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Got fined

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Probably going to get chirped for a month

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Worth it though 

You: I would tell you I’m sorry but I’m not 

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Me either

-

If you thought that was the beginning and the end of Brayden you would be sorely mistaken. 

Long distance flirting becomes a long distance hook up becomes him flying you out to see him. Any time you protested the latter, you’d find a non-refundable ticket in your email and a ‘please’ in your text messages. 

Fall fades into Winter and Bar Guy 💙🤍 turns to Brayden turns to B 💙. As your feelings for him grow, you find thoughts of Nate as anything other than someone-you-grew-up-with fade. 

You come clean about the ‘friend you live with’ being Nathan MacKinnon before the first time you fly down to see him, worried that your lie by omission might be a dealbreaker. Brayden only laughs, he figured Heidy’s hostility was more than just motivated by more than sports team loyalty. 

The thing about Brayden is he never makes you feel bad about Nate. He is understanding and gracious, never demanding, never unreasonable. A small part of you sometimes thinks about how if the roles were reversed, you don’t think Nate would be quite the same. 

Initially unsupportive and apprehensive, Heidy comes around, although her persistence turns from telling Nate how you feel to telling Nate about Brayden. You don’t do either, and she keeps your secrets. 

Nate being selected for the All Star Game in Vegas while Brayden isn’t brings a unique opportunity for a week straight in hot, sunny Florida. The chill of Denver isn’t quite as biting as back home, but you’re excited to escape it all the same. 

He doesn’t ask you to join him in Vegas, but you do wonder if he thought he didn’t need to. 

It doesn’t matter either way, when an errant high stick in overtime breaks his nose and dashes his All Star dreams. 

Your first thought upon seeing him bloody and disoriented on the ice is that there is no way you can go to Florida. 

It probably looks much worse than it is, the girls try to reassure you in the box, but you’re not convinced. 

Nate’s reassurances later don’t do much either. Not with his face puffy and bruised and some dried blood on his chin. 

It’s not until he assures you that his mom and sister will be coming down to Denver since they had the time off anyway that you decide for sure you will go. 

The day you leave for the airport, his pathetic form on the couch is almost enough to have you last minute cancelling on Brayden. 

Nate all but demands you don’t miss out on his account, asking that you ‘be safe’ and ‘have fun’. 

In return you hit him with a ‘thanks Dad’ and ‘take it easy’ despite knowing just by virtue of who he is as a person he will be doing the exact opposite.  

Thoughts of Nate, broken and bruised, haunt you the entire journey. They don’t fade until you’re in Brayden’s arms. Even then, it’s a dull ache that you do your best to ignore. 

Evidently you don’t do a very good job of hiding it, or maybe Brayden just knows you better than you think, because he catches on before you’ve even reached his place. 

“You okay?” he asks, gently squeezing your knee where his hand rests. 

Turning to look at his side profile, so earnest and sweet, you don’t even think of lying. 

“I’m worried about Nate.”

“I get that,” he says and you wonder if he truly does. “I’m glad you’re here with me though.”

Smiling at him, you are too, and so you try to push down the guilt and focus your attention on the man you’re with. 

You check on Nate periodically throughout the week, never getting much more than a thumbs up emoji, but at least you know he’s alive. 

Brayden wines and dines and, well, you know the rest of the rhyme. 

By the time the week is up, you don’t want to leave. It’s strange how meeting one person can change things so drastically. Before Brayden, you would never have dreamed of spending a week with another man when Nate was injured and possibly may have needed you. 

It also puts things into perspective for you. 

Really emphasizes how much additional emotional labor you put in—and were expected to—in your relationship with Nate. The lines and boundaries had long since blurred, and it took dedicating your time and energy to another man to see it. 

If Nate notices the way you pull back even further when you return, he doesn’t say anything about it. 

-

Falling for Brayden is easy. It’s a gentle float down to the ground, landing among a field of flowers to catch your fall. A stark contrast to the free fall of being pushed from an airplane at 10,000 feet by Nate. 

Where Nate’s sharp edges have cut you time and time and time again, Brayden’s curves wrap around you and hold you tight. 

When you’re not physically with him, you’re texting and calling, and when you’re not doing that you’re thinking about him. 

Neither of you make any move to define the relationship further, but it doesn’t sting like the years of being strung along by Nate did. It’s probably because while no words have been exchanged to that effect, Brayden lets you feel how much he cares for you. 

-

You’re nearly found out late in the regular season. 

Something about Tampa has started to feel familiar and safe—you try not to think about exactly why that is—and so, despite the knowledge that the boys are in town, too, you’re not as careful as you should be. 

There’s an ice cream spot near Brayden’s that you’ve taken to frequenting. As a consequence, it’s also near the arena. 

Because it’s so close, you decide to walk there, teasing him the whole way about how one ice cream cone won’t derail his nutrition plan. He’s arguing back, but you know it’s in vain because his sweet tooth and the lilt of your voice will win in the end. 

Your hands naturally brush as a result of your close proximity and you take the opportunity to link your pinkies. He smiles softly and you walk in silence for a minute until he breaks it. 

“You really won’t let me give you my jersey?” It’s a question that has come up before, but every time it does you wonder if it’s a little bit more serious of an ask than the last. 

“I’d rather die. Maybe if you were a better hockey player,” you tease, jumping back to avoid his grasp. 

He gasps playfully, thick eyebrows raising with his wide eyes. “Take that back right now.” He takes a step closer to you but you dodge his advances, sliding to the other side of the bench. 

“Sorry baby, you know I bleed blue and maroon. Wouldn’t be caught dead in traitor blue.” Not to mention you’d never ever hear the end of it from the boys if someone saw you in it. 

He fakes left and you fall for it, giggling madly as he wraps you up in his arms and scrapes his beard against your cheek. “What about just for me?” he asks, kissing your neck once and then nipping at it with his teeth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “In my bed with nothing else on?”

It’s like the already beautiful temperature rises even higher when he presses his mouth to yours. You give in quickly, pressing onto the tips of your toes to get even closer. It turns dirty quickly, his tongue in your mouth and his fingers buried deep in your hair. 

And then a familiar voice calls your name. 

You pull from Brayden like you’ve been burnt, a look of pure panic crossing your face as you realize you know the body attached to the voice. 

It’s JT and he looks like been standing there long enough to figure out what’s going on. 

“JT—“ you start to explain, but pause. There is no easy, simple explanation. There are months and months, hell years and years, of backstory and layers to even get to this point. 

“I thought—“ He appears to change his mind, stopping his thought mid sentence and switching to a question. “What’s going on here?”

“Brayden and I are, well, we’re.” It’s a struggle to explain what you are to one of Nate’s teammates when you haven’t had this conversation in full with the man beside you. Finally, you land on “We’re together.”

You don’t look over at Brayden to see his reaction. 

“How long?” is the natural follow up. 

It’s another tough question, but you decide to go with the first time you met and slept together. “Before Christmas.”

“Does Nate know?” he asks. The wild look in your eyes must give you away because he signs and says your name. “You have to tell him.”

You get that, really you do. But at the same time it’s your business what you do and who you do it with, not Nate’s. At the same time, you know it would be a really shit thing for him to find out through someone who isn’t you. 

Beyond that, you’re pretty sure right before playoffs isn’t the right time to have that conversation and you tell JT as much. “I know, I will. After the season I’ll tell everyone.”

JT looks less than convinced. 

“You know Nate, it wouldn’t do anyone any good while the season is still going on. Please, you can’t tell him.”

JT might be as aware as you are of who Nate is as a person, and he’s certainly more aware of who Nate is as a hockey player and so he agrees despite his clear hesitance. “Promise me, after the season.”

“I promise.”

When he’s gone, Brayden finally speaks up. “You want to go public with us?”

You worry you’ve said the wrong thing, starting to babble about how you’re sorry the conversation didn’t occur privately first, and how you don’t need to go public if it’s not something he wants to do when he silences you with a kiss. 

“I want to tell everyone,” he says earnestly and you kiss him again.  

JT thankfully keeps his word. 

-

Nate doesn’t watch any other team in the playoffs. 

It makes trying to catch Brayden’s games tough, sneaking out to sports bars, watching games on your phone in Nate’s guest room, even flying out to watch a couple home games during the run. 

The only supportive merch you sport is a necklace with his number, and on occasion a little blue and white lacy number under your clothes. You’re not offered a WAG jacket—whether that’s due to Brayden knowing well enough you don’t want to be that public or because your reaction to the style of jacket itself was less than positive. 

In the back of your mind you recognize there’s a chance it could come down to the teams of the boys you care for most; one Eastern Conference, one Western Conference. 

Selfishly, when the first round between the Bolts and the Leafs goes to seven, part of you hopes for it to end right there. Most of you is glad they push through. 

On Colorado’s side of the playoff bracket, they absolutely rip through everyone who stands in their way. 

You are offered a jacket with Nate’s name and number in glitter, but you turn it down in favor of a lucky baseball cap, though you do accept an unpersonalized crop from Madison. 

Some of the girls decide to travel for the away games. You have to turn them down because there are already tickets with your name on them to see Brayden. There’s no way you can—or would—miss any Avs home games, and so instead you end up being one of a handful of supporters in the likes of Toronto, Miami and New York. 

It’s a difficult balancing act as the playoffs progress in both teams’ favor. 

And then your worst nightmare comes true. The quest for the Cup comes down to your… whatever Brayden is to you and to Nate and the team you’ve supported since he was drafted and all the other people who have come to feel like family. 

Whispering to Brayden in the dark of night before the Finals begin, you tell him, “You know I support you, but…”

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, even though he has no reason to match your tone all alone in his home in Tampa. “I get it. As long as you still like me, you can like them a little bit more.”

You giggle, “It’s got nothing to do with liking you, you dolt.” 

“Bolt,” he corrects, and even though you can’t see him you know he’s smiling. 

“Oh my God, shut up.” You don’t mean it literally but he’s quiet for a second too long. “No matter what happens I’m proud of you.”

For two people who have never properly defined nor publicized their relationship, it might be too heavy of a moment, but his quiet thank you is laced with emotion. 

“Go to bed,” you say after another few beats of silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The first two games are in Colorado, and the boys take both at home. 

“Ain’t over til it’s over,” is both of your boys’ philosophy after the first two. 

Nate is positively buzzing, especially after so decisively winning the second, but still cautious—very aware of how quickly a 2-0 lead can turn into the end of the line and empty hands. 

Brayden is also cautious, and this isn’t his first or even second rodeo at the Cup final in as many years. You try to kiss it better in a random hallway in the bowels of Ball Arena. 

Finally accepting the Better Halves’ invitation to travel to road games, you have a good seat to Tampa taking back some momentum in game three before promptly handing it back to Colorado. 

You die and come back to life a dozen times in game four as Brayden and his team hold on. 

Game five is to be played back in Tampa, and you spend the night before the game in Brayden’s bed instead of the hotel Nate has paid for. “Good luck,” you whisper against his lips early in the morning before you leave to meet the girls for breakfast. 

“You don’t mean that,” he teases, stretching out in such a way that has you considering skipping breakfast—certain teasing and interrogation be damned. 

“Good luck to you,” you amend, kissing him once more. “Your team can rot.”

His laughter rings in your ears as you leave. 

Mel corners you after breakfast, a familiar offending piece of clothing in her hands. “This could be it,” she explains, offering you the jean jacket. 

If it were any year previous, you might have worn it. If you didn’t have Brayden, you might have worn it. If Nate had offered it to you himself alongside a confession, you might have worn it. 

None of these things are true, and so you decline. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

Her smile has a twinge of sadness and understanding as she replies, “Okay.”

-

Sitting alongside the girls in the box with your cropped sweater hiding the 21 necklace around your neck, you’ve never felt more torn. 

Brayden’s captain nets one early in the first, and you’re not sure you breathe again until Nate’s powerplay evens the score early in the second. There’s an undercurrent of excitement in the box alongside the nervous energy. Midway through the second, Arturri tips it in and Amalie Arena is silent. 

It stays like that for the rest of the period until you excuse yourself to grab a drink at intermission. Standing in the long drink line, you spot a little girl in a Point jersey and your stomach twists as you think about how no matter which way this ends, someone you care for will be hurt. 

That feeling doesn’t leave as you sit through a scoreless third period. The arena gets loud with Bolts fans throughout, celebrating every blocked shot and turnover. That intensity picks up in the dying seconds of the game as Brayden picks off the puck in the defensive zone. 

He rushes up the ice flanked by his linemates, but is momentarily stopped by Cale. 

He gets his stick back on the puck and your nails dig into the leather arm of the box seat. Suzanna grabs your hand, assuming it’s worry for her boyfriend and his teammates and you let her think that and hold your hand. 

Three seconds. 

Two seconds. 

He shoots right as the buzzer sounds and Darcy gloves it down like there was never a question of him stopping it. 

The entire box explodes in a chorus of cheers—there’s shouting, swearing, crying, laughter and you’re right in the middle of them all. Your boys are Stanley Cup Champions. 

Someone grabs you, and then someone else joins in and suddenly you’re in the middle of a dog pile. “They fucking did it!”

You’re so fucking excited, incredibly proud and honestly a little weepy about your favorite people finally getting their hands on their childhood dream. But, a bigger part of the organ in your chest than you want to admit aches for the downturn of Brayden’s head as he skates back to the bench. 

An attendant appears and wrangles the rowdy bunch down to the ice. You’ve got Linnea Landeskog in your arms and a giant grin on your face as your feet touch the ice.

“Down please,” she politely states while trying to wriggle out of your grasp. The second she’s down she’s running at her daddy who sweeps her up in his arms. 

And then Nate’s on you in a way that you used to long for when you were younger. He’s red and sweaty and out of breath but none of these things stop him from hauling you up into his arms and spinning you until you smack at his chest, demanding to be let down much like Linnea only minutes ago. 

He stops spinning but he doesn’t let go, staring up at you with a look he’s never given you before. You’re so caught up in the excitement of it all you barely notice, grabbing his cheeks and shouting in his face, “You fucking did it!”

“We fucking did,” he says like he can’t believe this moment is happening—whether that’s due to you in his arms or the Cup that will now bear his name no one can really say. He kind of looks like he’s about to do something stupid, leaning in ever so slightly, and so you finally succeed at leaving his arms, slipping slightly as you reach the ice once again. Brayden is watching from across the ice, a sad look on his face that you just want to kiss off. You don’t though, just pat Nate on the back once and continue moving, throwing yourself at Cale, then Burky, then Mikko.

It’s a blur of celebrations and photos with the Cup—you even let Linnea convince you to take a photo with her and the Cup, her mom remarking that it looks good on you. When you pull from your photo pose, you give her a questioning look. “A baby and a cup,” she smirks, blatantly looking over at Nate who seems to agree. 

You laugh nervously—last year that was all you wanted, the boys to win and Nate to want you in that way. Now? Now you can picture it still, you just picture it with someone else. 

Finally, you’re able to sneak away and Brayden has the same idea, telling you to meet him in a closet by the locker room. No words are exchanged as he pulls you in by your hips and kisses you like he needs it to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him and you mean it. 

A crinkle forms between his eyes. “No you’re not.”

You kiss him again once, “I’m not sorry the boys won tonight, but I am sorry it was against you.”

“There’s always next year.” It’s far more flippant than you had anticipated, really you thought you’d be dealing with an upset Brayden and that might have broken your heart. 

“I thought you’d be more upset.”

“Can’t win ‘em all,” he says and you give him a look to be serious. “So what, we didn’t win the Cup this season. I got you, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off, dont be stupid.” Your cheeks are hot and your eyes are wild. 

“I mean it. I’d take you over the Cup nine times out of ten.”

“What about the other one?” 

“Need to win another one for us to put our future babies in.”

“Awfully presumptuous for a hook up.” 

“This is so much more than a hook up.”

“Yeah,” you admit, sinking deeply into another kiss. 

“Besides,” he pauses, “Already got two rings.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay I gotta go. Will you come get me later?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid to ask, like he’d go into the pits of hell itself for you without hesitation. “Of course. Now go. Celebrate. I’ll see you later.”

You slip out first, making sure the coast is clear and go find the others. A Stanley Cup Champion hat is placed upon your head and a bottle of champagne in your hand. There’s a celebration in the visitor locker room and then the party moves to a local bar. 

Someone shells out the money for a few bottles of vintage Dom Perignon that you indulge in, but mostly you just relish in the happiness of everyone around you. If you’re honest, you spend a fair amount of time avoiding Nate who has a serious look every time you catch him staring. 

Shortly before midnight, you slip out of the bar and into Brayden’s waiting car. The bubbly must have gone to your head, because you forgo any verbal greeting in favor of launching yourself over the center console to press your lips to his. 

He pulls away and very somberly states, “I can’t take you seriously in that sweater.”

Looking down, you spot the Avalanche crop and laugh as you pull it off and toss it in the back. “Better?”

He hums, fingertip tracing the chain around your neck from your clavicle down between your breasts to reveal his number on the pendant. “Much.”

You sink back into another kiss before remembering where you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing meanwhile the bar you just left is crawling with people you’re not quite ready to come clean to just yet. 

“Take me home, Bray,” you say as you relax back into the passenger seat. 

You don’t have the power to bring your lover the Stanley Cup your friends were just drinking out of. All you have to offer is yourself, but he accepts it with as much gratitude as your best friend accepted the Cup earlier. 

Later, he looks like he wants to ask you to stay, and you think you look like you want him to. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter as you fall asleep next to him and somehow make it back to your hotel room in the morning with no one the wiser. 

-

Nate spends a few more weeks in Denver after the win, celebrating with the guys and riding the high of winning it all. You only spend a couple days and then move out of his house and back into your parents. 

You don’t tell him about Brayden, content to let Nate enjoy his successes. 

As a consequence, you don’t see much of him in July or August. Even when you’re both home, he’s busy with all his other friends and his family, and you’re busy with your niece and deciding on what to do in the fall. You’ve determined the best course of action is to finish your degree and then apply to a masters program in order to change your career path. 

The choice, then, is where to do so. You can stay at home, commute an hour each way into the city—supported by your hometown friends and your family. Or you can make the shift to Denver for real, with your found family and with Nate. Or…

The University of Tampa Bay has an excellent program. You know from your time visiting Brayden through the season that the university is right around the corner from Amalie Arena and Brayden’s. It’s awfully presumptuous, but you find yourself daydreaming about the possibility much like you used to daydream about a future in Denver. 

Of course, there’s an entire continent of possibilities, hell an entire world of possibilities, but these are the three most attractive options. 

There are many discussions to be had, and choices to be made. You don’t want to do either until you’ve had a chance to speak to Brayden in person, but just as Nate’s had a busy summer, so too has he. 

He messages you every morning before and after working out while you’re still asleep. Every conversation eventually devolves into some combination of ‘I miss you’ and ‘when can I see you?’ 

You do manage to spend a few days with him in the Rockies mid-July that fly by far too quickly. Every time you leave Brayden it gets harder and the implications of it all have your stomach in knots when the thought crosses your mind. 

-

It all comes to a head spectacularly the day before Nate’s day with the Cup. You’re at Nate’s, helping to prepare for the post-parade celebration when you’re called away by his sister. She wants your help deciding on which photos to display—it’s a mixture of past and present alongside an elementary school assignment two decades old wherein Nate declared his future profession would be ‘Stanley Cup Champion.’

You’re smiling, lost in the memories when Nate comes crashing into the room you’re in. There’s an indiscernible look on his face, but it reads somewhere between anger, frustration and hurt. The look on your face betrays your confusion, and it only deepens when you see your phone in his hands. 

“What are you doing with my phone?” you ask. 

His jaw ticks. “Thought it was mine.”

It doesn’t really do anything for your confusion. If anything, it deepens it. “What’s your problem Nate?”

“This! This is my problem.” He finally cracks, shoving your phone in your face to reveal messages from Brayden—under the contact name of the letter B and a heart—wondering when you plan on making the trip to Calgary to see him. Your stomach drops and your heart feels like it’s at risk of falling right out your chest. It was always going to come out, but especially as you crossed the line between sharing body heat with Brayden and sharing your secrets, hopes and dreams. 

That being said, it is a shit way for your relationship to come to light for sure, but you can’t help but feel your friend is overreacting. Sarah is looking between the two of you, panicked and frozen like she doesn’t know what to do. 

“I think your mom could use some help in the backyard, Sar,” you say gently, and she gladly takes the opportunity to flee. Once she’s gone, you turn on Nate. “I’m sorry that you found out this way, but you had no right to come in here like that. Poor Sarah looked terrified!”

He looks at you incredulously. Now that his sister is out of ear shot, he appears to have allowed himself to lean into his emotions a little more. “I have no right? What about you? Hooking up with some random guy in Calgary? Is that where you’ve been running off to these past few months?”

You know that this is probably the least important part of his rant, but you feel the need to clarify. “He’s not just some guy, Nate. His name is Brayden. And for the record, no. I wasn’t in Calgary, I was in Tampa.

He looks confused in addition to enraged, and so you put the pieces together for him. “I’ve been seeing Brayden Point.”

“You’ve been sleeping with the enemy?”

“Are you joking?” 

This is not your friend Nate. This is some angry being inhabiting the body of your friend Nate. 

He doesn’t back down. “It was between us and them in the final, pretty sure that qualifies as the enemy!” He pauses for a second and then continues, “How long have you been sleeping with him? During the final? Were you rooting for him instead?”

“Nate—“

“No, don’t Nate me. I bet you were, I bet you wanted them to win, him to win. I bet you were sitting there in the family box, using tickets I paid for, against me the whole time.”

“That’s not fair!” you try to interject, despite the tiny grain of truth to his words. It would be untrue to say some small part of you wanted Brayden to succeed, but your loyalties have always been with Nate and his team. 

“Don’t bother. I wouldn’t trust a thing you said right now. Not after this. Not when you know.” 

“Know what?” you question. 

“How I feel! About you. And me.” The blurred edges start to come into focus. He’s been acting like a man scorned, because in his eyes he is one. 

Unable to form any coherent thought, you repeat yourself from earlier. “Are you joking?”

He’s less angry now, slipping further into the hurt brewing under the surface. “It’s always been us. Since we were kids. And now you’re messing around with some guy on another team. I can't believe you!”

The tears start to pool at your waterline, but you’re too stubborn to let them fall. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You string me along for years and years and years, expecting me to play the part of your girlfriend without being your girlfriend and to wait around for you to figure it out. I am sorry you found out like this, but I’m not sorry about him. I’m not sorry about Brayden.”

He flinches at the sound of Brayden’s name, the anger clouding his eyes even further. “You want him so bad, why don’t you go to him right now?”

“Nate—“ You’re not sure he knows what he’s saying, what the implications of all he’s said really are. What it would mean if you left for Calgary this afternoon. What it would be like if you weren’t there tomorrow to join in his celebrations.

“Go.” When you don’t move he speaks again. “Get out of here.”

He hasn’t raised his fists or even his voice, but you do as he suggests. Calmly, begging the tears not to fall, you walk right out of his house and get in your car and you drive. 

Brayden picks up when you call while driving, and there’s a ticket in your inbox before you’ve even made it home. 

A short layover in Toronto—and with nothing but the clothes on your back and a small carry- on—later, you’re sinking into Brayden’s arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head where it’s buried in his chest. 

“Thank you,” you say, leaving hundreds of words unspoken in your gratitude. 

The kiss he pressed to your lips and the way he says ‘Anything for you’ tells you that he understands. 

He’s got his own place in an affluent suburb of the city, and you’re grateful for the fact that you won’t have to see anyone else with your puffy, bloodshot eyes. 

The last time you’d cried this hard, it had been over the loss of your childhood dog. Nate had been there then, flying in after a late game to hold you while you cried. Maybe you had misunderstood his feelings for you, missed the signs he thought he had laid out so clearly. Maybe that would have mattered a year ago. 

It doesn’t, now. 

Not when Brayden’s arms feel like home. His warm gaze feels like the sun. His kiss and his touch feel like heaven on earth. His love feels like everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Your world nearly stopped in Nate’s living room, but it resumed spinning here in Brayden’s bedroom. 

You’re curled up on his chest while he soothingly runs a hand along your spine when you tell him. “I love you.”

His hand stills on the middle of your back, but you don’t panic. Your mind and heart are clear and in unison. He doesn’t make you wait long, cupping the back of your head and tilting your head back ever so slightly so that your eyes meet. 

“Yeah?” he asks like maybe he needs the validation. 

“Yeah,” you reply, giving it to him. 

The grin on his face might be worth everything you’ve been through. 

You squeal as he flips the both of you, ending in a position where his arms bracket either side of your head in order to keep from crushing you with his full weight. 

“I love you,” he repeats, kissing every inch of your exposed skin. 

Tangling your fingertips in the hair at the nape of his neck, you say it again and again and again. It’s a chant and a ritual, told between sighs and moans and whimpers. He strips you of your clothes, taking you apart piece by piece and then putting them all back together. 

It is intimate and sweet as he takes you to the highest peak, hearts and limbs and minds all intertwined. There is no doubt, no insecurity, no hesitation. All of the love you have to give is reflected back at you. You and Brayden are two sides of the same coin, destiny and fate and all the good forces in the world have brought the two of you together. 

That’s why when, in the dark of his room later, you say yes when he asks you to move in. 

-

Despite the apparent suddenness, your family is more than supportive of you and Brayden. Though that may be because he charmed the pants off all of them the following week when returning to your childhood bedroom to pack your things. 

Your niece is delighted when she learns that Brayden’s “job is hockey!” as she so sweetly declares, requesting he win her a Cup too. 

It reminds you of Nate and how you haven’t heard from him. You don’t reach out either. 

Your time in Calgary is short, punctuated by the bittersweet news that although many of your credits will transfer over, you’re not able to start college classes at the University of Tampa until the second semester. 

“Now you can come with me on all my road games,” Brayden says when you tell him. 

“Fat chance.”

Training camp sneaks up on you both and before you know it, you’re making the permanent move into Brayden’s bedroom and his life, publicly this time. 

The Tampa WAGs are sweet and welcoming, but you find yourself missing the Colorado Better Halves. That’s probably why you agree to dinner with Heidy the first time in the season that the Avs are in town. 

You make plans to meet at a cute spot downtown near the arena. 

The minute you spot Nate waiting outside, you start to turn around. Not so much as an Instagram like since the day before his day with the Cup and now he’s at one of your favorite restaurants in Tampa like everything is okay?

“Wait,” he says and for some reason you do, pausing mid turn. “I’m sorry.”

That’s enough to have you turning back around to look him in the eye as you scold him. “Really? I haven’t heard a word from you in months and that’s what you have to say?”

“I know,” he says. 

“You were really shitty Nate! You knew how I felt and apparently felt the same way, but you just took advantage of me and my feelings for you for years! And then, you made me feel like trash for falling for someone else.”

“I know,” he says again. 

“Can you say literally anything other than I know?” you say exasperatedly. 

“I—“ he starts and stops with the look you give him. “I don’t have a good explanation for the first bit. You’re right, I’ve been taking you for granted for a long time. I don’t know, I guess I was just scared to lose you if we ever crossed that line.”

“I get that,” you reply. “Why do you think I never said anything either? I’m less mad about that and more mad about you being a giant asshole about me meeting someone.”

He nods. “I know. I was jealous and hurt and I lashed out and hurt you too. I never meant for it to get like this, but the longer it took for me to reach out and apologize the harder it seemed. I am really sorry, and I’m happy you found someone who treats you the way you deserve.”

It’s a sincere apology and one you’re certain he means. Beyond that, you just miss your best friend and so you throw yourself at him in a big hug. He’s startled, but very quickly wraps his arms around you too. 

“Things aren’t magically okay, you really hurt me, but you’re my best friend and I’ve missed you so much. There’s been a million times where something happened and I wanted to tell you about it, but couldn’t.”

“You’re my best friend,” he says. 

Nate scores a goal during the second period of the game but it’s not enough for the Avalanche. 

Brayden comes home the clear winner to find you curled up in his bed. First he undresses and then he slips into bed beside you. 

“Glad you made up with Nate,” he says, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Glad you won,” you reply, feeling the way his lips curve in a smile against your neck and knowing he’s about to say something stupid and cringe. 

“In more ways than one, baby,” he laughs, caging you in with his arm as you struggle to get away from him and his bad jokes. “In more ways than one.”

Despite the way you playfully try to escape his clutches, the truth is you feel like you’re the real winner. 

[harlowhockeystick]

congrats on 2.5k! one word prompt = powerful with Nate. (Bonus points for dirty cop!nate🤭)

2.5k celly | warnings: dirty cop!nate, jerky jerk face nate, physical injuries, angst

"where the fuck do you think you're going?! i said come here!" nate barks at you, his voice booming down the street filling your ears, the only light coming from his led headlights of his patrol car.

you were growing quite tired of nate stalking you. everywhere you turned, every party you went to, every store you walked in he was there. waiting, like a prey watching it's dinner.

this time as you were headed to the next town over for a party he was waiting on the state highway for you. you'd added up all the clues and had come to the sum that he'd placed a tracker somewhere on your car and that's how he'd always be right there when you needed him and when you didn't. you'd had enough.

he pulled you over and right when he started to walk back to his car, you opened your car door and started to walk down the side of the road.

"no, nathan! you think you're so fucking powerful 'cause you got a fuckin' gun and a badge?! you're not!" turning around for just a second as cars zipped past, you see that he's also walking toward you. "i can't fucking stand you anymore!"

you started to pick up your pace, then something inside you kicked on and it made you start to run. your flats weren't the best shoes to run in on the side of the road, but you just wanted to get away from him.

just a few seconds later you felt his thick body tackle yours to the ground- at least he was nice and tackled you in the grass and not the pavement. tumbling a little your bodies rolled down the side of the ditch, his forceful hands coming to keep yours behind your back. grunts and curses spilled out of your mouth but he soon put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"i am trying to help you!" he shouted, pale blue eyes staring into yours. in reaction all you could do was roll them, trying to relax a little. "this life you're living, thinkin you're so cool? not gonna get you nowhere, missy. nobody's looking out for you but me, ever think about that?" you took a heavy sigh and moved with him as he pulled you off the grass.

he walked you back to his car with your hands still pinned behind your back, thinking of how ridiculous you looked to the cars zooming past you two. he set you in the passenger seat of his car, then got your important things out of your own.

"we'll come back for it tomorrow."

he drove you back to your own house, and on the way there, you thought maybe he really did care. but you were fighting wars in your own mind, going back and forth between he does care, and, he's such a loser.

the soft touch he has and the pursed lips he wears as he cleans up the scrapes on your knees and face from his tackling makes you think he does care. how he whispers he's sorry when he cares for your wounds. when he brings you a pajama set and lets you change clothes in peace. maybe he does care.

maybe.

[withwritersblock]

This is Home-Daddy/Daughter Dance

~This is Home by Bryan Lanning~

Author's Note: a new series I'm trying Summary: Nate takes Ava to a daddy/daughter dance Warnings: none! Word Count: 1,688 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

Tonight was a huge night for Nate. Not because it was a division rivalry, not because it was a playoff game, and not because it was the Stanley Cup finals. It was his first ever daddy, daughter dance. 

His daughter hasn’t stopped talking about the dance since she found out about it. Nate was so happy to find out that he didn’t have a game and he was home. There was a lot of milestones that he has missed from hockey but this one, he wasn’t going to miss.

He stood in the bathroom, leaning towards the mirror, shaving the subtle off of his face. Soft music was playing in the background. He was nervous, which he had no reason to be. The only person he needed to impress was his daughter. Ava did not need much from Nate to be impressed, she loved him with every fiber of her being. But Nate wanted everything to be perfect. 

Y/N peaked her head around the bathroom door, smiling towards Nate. He met her gaze through the mirror. “Hey honey,” he mumbled as he smiled towards her. He leaned down and washed his face before he dapped it off with a towel.

“How’s my girl?” he let out as he took small steps towards her. She tilted her head to the side.

“Very impatient waiting for you to be ready,” she let out, a small smile on her lips. He chuckled as he tilted his head back.

“We don’t have to leave for another hour,” Nate let out while he reached his hands towards her. She happily stepped into his grasp. He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist.

“She’s got your patience,” she teased as she rested her hands on the base of his neck. He rolled his eyes playfully as he ran his hands up her shirt to rest his hands onto the small of her back.

He hummed before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. “You tell my baby, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes,” he whispered against her lips. She hummed as she slowly slipped away from his grasp. “Unless, you want to uh-assist me in the shower?” he mumbled as he pointed towards the glass shower behind him.

“Nathan!” she scolded as she laughed nervously. He barked out a laugh as he slipped his sweatpants from his body as he wandered towards the shower. 

“You’re loss, my love,” he shouted as he turned on the shower. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she continued out of the bathroom towards her daughter’s bedroom. She was sitting on the bed swinging her tiny legs back and forth as she was watching The Lion King. Her body straightened as her eyes widened. 

“Not yet my love, he’s still getting ready,” Y/N whispered. Ava groaned as she fell onto her back, not caring if her curls were flatten. No little girl cares about those things. “Have you thought about your dance moves?” she tried to distract her. She slowly sat up and met Y/N’s gaze. Ava shook her head. “Well, let’s see it beauty,” Y/N said as she reached for her tiny hand.

Avs climbed off of the bed and kept her hand in Y/N’s. Y/N pulled her phone from her pocket and played the first song that she saw in her playlist. It was an upbeat pop song. She placed it back into her pocket. They began to shimmy and dance along to the music. 

“Those are some great moves, baby,” she told Ava as she sat back down on the bed to continue watching the movie.

“I know,” she let out confidently. Y/N giggled as she sat on the floor in front of Ava, watching the movie with her.

After fifteen minutes Nate called for Y/N. Ava jumped off the bed excitedly, “Hold on, Ava girl,” Y/N muttered as she walked out of the bedroom towards her own. Nate was standing in their bedroom adjusting the suit jacket on his frame. 

She has seen Nate in a suit more times than without one but every single time she feels faint. He spun around, meeting her gaze, his arms dropping to the side. “Am I over dressed?” he asked quietly. She shook her head instantly, “I’m gonna call Gabe, see what he’s wearing,”

“Nate,” she reached her hands over, resting them onto his arms. His eyes softened as he met her gaze, “You look great, I’m sure Gabe is dressed the same,” she offered. He took in a deep breath as he nodded. “Are you nervous?” she asked, trying not to laugh. He smacked his lips together as a grin started forming. “Nate, it’s a daddy daughter dance,”

“Our daughter’s opinion of me matters a lot,” he whined.

“You know she adores you,” she tried to reassure him.

“But this is a big deal for her,” Nate muttered out as he rested his hands onto the small of her back.

She rested her hands on the base of his neck, “You won a Stanley Cup without being nervous for a second but this-this two hour dance is making you nervous,” she let out while giggling.

“Winning that Stanley Cup is the reason I am going to this dance, so I think it goes hand and hand,” he let out teasingly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his delicately. “Alright, where’s my little girl?” he let out as he slowly slipped away from her grasp.

Y/N walked ahead of Nate towards Ava’s bedroom, she was sitting on the bed watching the screen. “Are you ready, Ava girl?” 

She gasped as she climbed off of the bed, adjusting the burgendy colored dress as she jogged excitedly out of the bedroom towards the living room. Nate was standing in the center of the living room, holding a tiny necklace with the letter M on it. She stopped short as Nate spun around to look towards her. Ava smiled widely. Nate’s lips began to quiver, she’s always been perfect. His little girl, his daughter.

“Look how beautiful you are,” Nate let out as he kneeled down. She excitedly ran towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He stood up, holding her up. 

“It’s bur-ge-ndy! Like the Avs!” she struggled to say the word, but it was close enough. Nate lips fell into a pout as he looked into his daughter’s eyes. 

“I love it!” he let out as he brought the necklace up, he let it dangle to show it to her.

“For me?” she let out excitedly, but shyly. 

“Of course,” Nate muttered as he delicately sat her down on the top of the couch. “Hold your hair up, baby,” Nate expressed as he imitated holding hair up. She nodded and followed his actions. Nate slowly wrapped the necklace around her neck and buckled it.  “How do you like it?” Nate asked. Ava looked down towards the Necklace and nodded excitedly.

“Thank you,” she let out.

“Okay, okay. Let me take your photo before you guys head out,” Y/N offered. Nate excitedly picked Ava up again and rested her onto his hip. 

“Smile,” Nate sing-songed. Ava smiled widely, leaning her head against Nate’s head. She was smiling so hard, her eyes were squinted nearly shut. Nate smiled as he held Ava tightly towards him. 

“Okay, you two. Go have a great night,” she ushered them towards the door.

“We will,” Nate sing-songed as he shoved his keys into his pocket before he walked towards Y/N. He leaned towards her, quickly pecking her lips before he walked towards the front door.

“Alright Ava girl, are you ready to see Linnea and Uncle Gabe?” Nate asked as they walked out of the house together. He delicately placed her on the ground, allowing her to run towards the car. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted as she jogged towards the car, she waited outside the backseat door, hopping excitedly.

~~~

The daddy daughter dance was almost over. Ava and Linnea were both nearly asleep by the end of it. There was only one more dance left in the night. Ava was resting her head onto Nate’s shoulder, she wasn’t asleep but she was happy being in his arms like this. Her arms were tightly around his neck. Nate was swaying back and forth to the country song that was playing in the background. 

He met Gabe’s eyes, he spun around, forcing Nate to look towards Linnea. “She asleep?” Gabe asked as he spun back around to meet Nate’s gaze. 

“She is or she’s about to be,” Nate let out, a chuckle falling from his lips. Gabe rolled his eyes playfully as he ran his hand up and down his daughter’s back.

“Ava asleep?” Gabe asked. Ava lifted her head and shook her head, a tight lip grin on her lips. She smiled towards Gabe and Nate before she rested her head back onto Nate’s shoulder. Nate chuckled as he glanced towards all of the other dad’s carrying their little girls.

“We better make this event every year until it’s not cool for them,” Nate expressed as he looked towards Gabe.

Gabe chuckled, “We better be home every year,” 

“Right,” Nate chuckled, “Are you ready to go home, baby girl?” Nate whispered into Ava’s ear. She lifted her head and nodded, a huge yawn leaving her lips. 

Gabe nodded, “I’m going to get her home, hopefully she’ll stay asleep,” Gabe expressed, waving towards the pair. 

“Say bye to Uncle Gabe,” Nate whispered towards Ava.

“Bye Uncle Gabe,” she let out softly before she tapped her hands against Nate’s shoulder. “Can we do this again?” she asked Nate quietly. Nate smiled towards her, taking a hold of his keys and phone. He shoved them both into his pockets, one after another.

“We’ll do something like this every year, I’ll promise you that, baby girl,” Nate said as they started walking out of the small banquet building. 

“Pinky promise?” she asked holding out her hand. Nate smiled widely as he happily pinky promised her. “Best night ever,”

[holy-puckslibrary]

𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

here's a list of the uploads for this year's fic-mas event, as well as a link to the list of additional ficmas uploads available on patreon.

hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

again, this is a list of ficmas uploads that are available now (or soon-to-be, depending on when you see this post) on tumblr.

if you'd to pursue the content available on patreon (and will remain there exclusively for the time being), please refer to 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

please note the upload date listed for each.

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — nathan mackinnon x claus!reader

𝐰𝐜 — 2k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very important, pressing hidden clause in the job contract... 

available DECEMBER 1, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — best friend!jack hughes x reader

𝐰𝐜 — 2.3k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays.

available DECEMBER 6, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader

𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

available DECEMBER 13, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐅 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 —grumpy!erik johnson x sunshine!nanny!reader

𝐰𝐜 — 1.1k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. according to his daughter, erik's return is as disappointing as his staging.

available DECEMBER 20, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — silverfox!DBF!sidney crosby x reader

𝐰𝐜 — 4.2k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — it may not the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition.

available DECEMBER 25, 2023

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

⤑ to my inbox 💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog

[cuttergauthier]

Who I Write For

Hey everyone this is a list of who I write for.

If you have someone else in mind, send me an ask and i’ll let you know if i want to write for him. I’m not picky

Also if anyone would want me to start an AU let me know!

How to request

I DO NOT WRITE SMUT

New jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

Nathan Bastian

Dawson Mercer

Luke Hughes

Nico Hischier

Timo Meier

Brendan Smith

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

Brock Boeser

Elias Pettersson

Cole McWard

Anthony Beauvillier

Dakota Joshua

Toronto Maple Leafs

Mitch Marner

Auston Matthews

William Nylander

Matthew Knies

Morgan Reilly

Buffalo Sabres

Owen Powers

Tyson Jost

Devon Levi

Erik Johnson

Jeff Skinner

Tage Thompson

Dylan Cozens

Casey Mittelstadt

Carolina Hurricanes

Michael Bunting

Andrei Svechnikov

Jack Drury

Pittsburgh Penguins

Pierre-Oliver Joseph

Ryan Graves

Ty Smith

Columbus Blue Jackets

Nick Blankenburg

Kent Johnson

Cole Sillinger

Adam Boqvist

Zach Werenski

Adam Fantilli

Vegas Golden Knights

Brendan Brisson

San Jose Sharks

Thomas Bordeleau

Tristen Robins

William Eklund

Henry Thrun

Luke Kunin

Anaheim Ducks

Trevor Zegras

Mason McTavish

John Gibson

Frank Vatrano

St Louis Blues

Jake Neighbours

Colton Parayko

Ottawa Senators

Josh Norris

Brady Tkachuk

Mathieu Joseph

Jakob Chychrun

Zack MacEwen

Tim Stutzle

Thomas Chabot

Minnesota Wilds

Matt Boldy

Brock Faber

Brandon Duhaime

Los Angeles Kings

Alex Turcotte

Quinn Byfield

Brandt Clarke

Pierre Luc Dubois

Alex Laferriere

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

Sam Bennett

Mackie Samoskevich

William Lockwood

Aaron Ekblad

Josh Mahura

Brandon Montour

Colorado Avalanche

Cale Makar

Bowen Byram

Nate Mackinnon

Miles Wood

Detroit Red Wings

J.T. Compher

Dylan Larkin

Joe Veleno

Jake Walman

Boston Bruins

Mason Lohrei

Johnny Beecher

Jeremy Swayman

Jake Debrusk

Charlie Mcavoy

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

Arber Xhekaj

Kirby Dach

Christian Dvorak

Alex Newhook

New York Islanders

Noah Dobson

Mat Barzal

Philadelphia Flyers

Morgan Frost

Cam York

Jamie Drysdale

Joe Farabee

Tyson Foerster

Noah Cates

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafrenière

Adam Fox

K’Andre Miller

Braden Schneider

Chris Kreider

Zac Jones

Arizona Coyotes

Logan Cooley

Dylan Guenther

Clayton Keller

Nick Schmaltz

Chicago Blackhawks

Lukas Reichel

Seth Jones

Alex Vlasic

Connor Bedard

Tampa Bay Lightnings

Brandon Hagel

Anthony Cirelli

Seattle Kraken

Brandon Tanev

Jamie Oleksiak

Philipp Grubauer

Will Borgen

Dallas Stars

Wyatt Johnston

Jake Oettinger

Rope Hintz

Craig Smith

University of Michigan

Luca Fantili

Rutger McGroarty

Nick Moldenhauer

Phil Lapointe

Jacob Truscott

Tyler Duke

Marshall Warren

Frank Nezar

Ethan Edwards

Michigan State University

Red Savage

Isaac Howard

Maxim Štrbák

Ohio State University

Joe Dunlap

Cam Thiesing

Davis Burnside

Caden Brown

Matt Cassidy

Minnesota University

Luke Mittelstadt

Jimmy Snuggerud

Ryan Chesley

Oliver Moore

Brody Lamb

Boston College

Cutter Gauthier

Will Smith

Ryan Leonard

Gabe Perreault

Drew Fortescue

Jacob Fowler

Will Vote

University of Wisconsin

Cruz Lucius

Charlie Stramel

Zach Schulz

Random Teams

Nick Granowicz

Jay Keranen

Colton Dach

Nathan Gaucher

+ more

AU’s 

Nick Granowicz x Msu Reader

Josh Norris x Tkachuk sister

Trevor Zegras x Hughes sister

Cutter Gauthier x Hughes sister

Matthew Knies x Matthews sister

Jack Hughes x Mercer au

[mikkomacko]

Dating Nathan MacKinnon

Social Media

A/N: Had this sitting in the drafts, figured I'd post it to distract the Avs fans from last night :)

Enjoy x

Liked by MacKinnon29 and others

Your.instagram: The Dogg behind the scenes 🎥

Tagged: MacKinnon29

6ErikJohnson6: Blue steel

CaleMakar: 🐕x🎥

MacKinnon29: I said no secret photos

-> your.instagram: But you're so handsome 🥺

->MacKinnon29: 🙄☺️

Liked by your.instagtam and others

MacKinnon29: Best trophy I've ever gotten. Runner up: my trophy wife (not pictured)

Tagged: your.instagram

Your.instagram: you literally had a million pictures with this trophy wife and you picked the one without me? 🔉Divorce 🔉

->MacKinnon29: My lawyers are sharks btw so be ready

Landeskog.92: Gotta put a ring on her first bud

->MacKinnon29: No she's my wife

Liked by MacKinnon29 and others

Your.instagram: BRB untying my shoe behind his back so he can tie it again

Tagged: MacKinnon29

MacKinnon29: ✍🏻 buy babe slip ons for Christmas

Your.instagram: I'll return them when you're on a roadie 🥰

JTCompher: dogg on a leash

->MacKinnon29: 🦮😀

->Your.instagram: Ok you're getting a muzzle now too

Like by your.instagram and others

MacKinnon29: 🐕 x the love of his life

Tagged: your.instagram

Landeskog.92: you gotta come up with a better caption bud

-> MacKinnon29: 🐕x🙅🏻‍♂️

Bowen.Byram: caption is 🤢

Your.instagram: omg omg omg did you just show emotion on social media?

-> MacKinnon29: Yes now say it back

-> your.instagram: ur my favorite lil pup and I love you 🥰

-> MacKinnon29: 😁

Liked by Landeskog.92 and others

Your.instagram: Uncle 🐕 and his little love

Tagged: MacKinnon29

Landeskog.92: Uncle 🐕 x lil 🦁

Cradnec: He doesn't smile at me like that

-> ColoradoAvalanche: liar. We see those celly hugs

-> your.instagram: he doesn't smile at me like that either 😣

MacKinnon29: lil 🐕 will be at the next cup parade

-> your.instagram: um excuse you?

-> 6ErikJohnson6: keep if PG Nate, Burky's on here for the love of God

-> MacKinnon29: 😉

[fallinallincurls]

Under The Mistletoe (With You)

sooo @tonyspep and i have created this whole verse that you’ve only gotten a taste of so far through my fic without a doubt, my heart will lead me to you (two) and gina’s if home is where the heart is, then i’m homesick for you! this fun little fic is part of the same verse! we don’t get to see the mini macs aka noah, kat or miles here, but this the softest moment of nate and the reading falling in love and i had fun writing this. happy holidays!

there’s PLENTY of background built for this verse already so my asks are open for any and every question in relation to this eek!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.6k

~~~~~

Denver received the season’s first dusting of snow yesterday, signaling winter’s anticipated arrival. It meant the holidays were right around the corner and your favorite day of the year was finally here.

You couldn’t mark the specific date on the calendar, but no matter when the first snowfall happened, it meant you’d be spending the next day decorating the bakery. Stringing up colorful lights, putting gifts under a small tree, hanging ornaments and cutting paper snowflakes. Everything from the display case to the front windows and anything in between got some kind of holiday decoration.

Today was that day. And unlike the last few years where you’ve done it all by yourself, you get to share the tradition with someone else now. Someone you love more than anything. 

“Nate, can you grab the strand of little snowflakes please?” You ask from atop the little step stool you’re currently standing on, a finger pointed at one of the many boxes on the floor. He nods, a soft smile on display across his lips as he finds said snowflakes in the box.

“Where do these go?” The question is gentle like he’s memorizing where every single one of the decorations go so he remembers in the future. That thought alone makes your heart swell. You might have only been dating for a year now, but something about Nate feels like forever. And you’ve never shared decorating the bakery with anyone else, not even your best friend, so the fact he’s here right now with you putting up lights and tiny Christmas trees and making snowflakes is proof he’s special.

“Across the top of all the windows. So it looks like it's snowing.” You reply with a giggle, leaning down to kiss him. “If you want to get started on the other side, we could meet in the middle so that way these are done quicker?”

“Sounds like a plan, babe.” Nate smiles, kissing you one more time before getting to work on the opposite end of the front windows with his own string of snowflakes. The cutest look of concentration crosses over his face as he carefully hangs the decoration and your heart swells at the sight. 

The soft notes of Christmas music fill the bakery and the golden glow of fairy lights make the scene feel even more magical than it usually does. Except you think that has more to do with the man who is taking part in your yearly tradition than anything else. You keep sneaking peeks at Nate, hoping he doesn’t catch you, and it’s another reminder of just how lucky you are.  

He’s humming “Holly Jolly Christmas” to himself as he focuses on decorating, his sweater riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his toned stomach. A long, gold strand of tinsel hangs around his neck and his cheeks are tinted the cutest color pink either from blush or how warm it is in the bakery. There’s that familiar glint of pure joy evident in his blue eyes that not many get to see, but you do and you’re forever grateful for that. 

You almost can’t believe that a year or so ago, Nate was a stranger. Someone who walked into Colorado Cookie Company, shy as anything, to compliment the batch of cookies you made for the Avs charity event. Never in a million years did you think he would become this important, take up this much room in your heart.

And yet, here you are.

“Done!” Nate exclaims, putting his hands up in a mini celebration as he steps off the stool to admire his work. “Not so bad if I do say so myself.”

“Nathan MacKinnon. One of the NHL’s biggest stars and secretly amazing at decorating for the holidays. Quite the tiny snowflake expert.” 

“Hey,” Nate pouts dramatically, picking up on your teasing tone and playing along. You can’t help but giggle at the look on his face but join him to look up at the snowflakes now hanging about the big front windows. 

Before he gets the chance to say anything else in response or think of a comeback, you pull him in for a soft, gentle kiss that speaks volumes without a single word being uttered.

“I love you. Thank you for doing this.” 

Nate is floored. He might still be getting used to the idea of really, truly being in love (although he knows he is) and the kiss might have caught him by surprise, but it just occurs how much this means to you.

Decorating the bakery, a place that’s another home to you, isn’t something to take lightly. This is another step in your relationship, a big one. Nate knew it was important when you invited him to join in on the tradition, but it’s just occurring to him that this is something he could be doing every year for the rest of his life. 

And my god, he wants that so bad.

“I love you too. I’m happy to be here. Nowhere else I’d rather be.” And he means it because every word is true.

The sweetest smile appears on his lips before the two of you share a few more kisses. But you playfully push him away a minute later, your beautiful laugh making Nate undeniably happy.

“Save those for later. We’ve gotta get this done.”

“Okay, okay. What’s next?” Nate questions, following you to another box of decorations where you hand him the small Christmas tree that will be full of holiday wishes soon and a little menorah for the counter.

It only takes a couple more hours of dancing together to whatever Christmas song was playing, sharing kisses and making sure every inch of the bakery was covered in holiday spirit to finish decorating. Even if you do this every year, the final product always takes your breath away. 

“It’s beautiful,” Nate murmurs, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you from behind. A comfortable moment of silence settles as you both take in the scene together. 

“There’s just one thing missing.” 

Nate’s brows furrow in confusion as you leave his tight embrace. What else could possibly be missing? He’s never seen a place as decked out as your little bakery is right now. But before he can say anything in response, you’re holding up a small bundle of mistletoe. 

“Oh,” is all Nate says, the cutest blush spreading across his cheeks. You can’t help but giggle at how bashful he suddenly is.

“Wanna help me hang it up?” You ask in a soft tone. Nate nods, stepping closer and carefully taking hold of the plant. “Right in the doorway.”

Without any other direction, Nate somehow puts the mistletoe in the perfect spot. He flashes a beaming smile towards you, proud of his work, and a feeling of comfort like no other courses through your veins. You rush into him so fast that he lets out a little “oof” at the impact before pulling you in closer as you hug him as tightly as possible.

It isn’t until you look up at him a few moments later, heart full of indescribable love, that you realize where you’re both standing. Under the mistletoe in the doorway. 

“I think,” Nate starts, cheeks becoming pink again as the cutest smile appears on his face, “this is the part where we kiss. Mistletoe and all, you know.” 

“Well then, handsome, what are you waiting for?”

Nate doesn’t waste any time leaning in and closing the space between you. He feels you smiling against his lips as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. It’s a kiss like no other and you can’t place why, but you try to commit every detail to memory. The warmth of Nate’s hands on your hips, how you can feel his emotions through the kiss and how at home you feel right now; it’s something you didn’t think you’d ever get to experience. 

When you pull away, you find Nate’s blue eyes full of a kind of fondness you haven’t seen before. He kisses you a few more times underneath the mistletoe, earning warm laughs from you in return.

“I can’t wait to do this with our kids one day.” He says suddenly as you’re carding through his hair. The words shock you for a second before the thought enters your mind. Little feet running around the bakery, helping decorate the small tree and Nate lifting them up to string lights around the windows. Handprint Christmas tree art hanging on the wall next to the family pictures and the sound of happy baby laughs mixed with holiday music. 

You can see it all. And standing here, in Nate’s arms under the mistletoe after sharing one of your dearest traditions with him, makes it feel a little more real.

“Our kids?” You tease him, giggling at the expression on his face.

“Yeah, our kids. Can’t you see it?” The look of love and hope are hard to miss and it’s enough to make those recurring thoughts of spending the rest of your life with him reappear. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bubs. We’ve got a while to go until we get there.” 

“But we’ll get there?”

“We’ll get there. For now, I’m gonna steal as many mistletoe kisses as I can and decorate the bakery with you until a little one comes along.” You giggle, kissing him again to which Nate sweeps you off your feet and twirls you around to the music still playing. The holidays might be the most wonderful time of the year, but you know with Nate here, it’ll be extra special like never before.

taglist: @tonyspep @miracleonice87 @starshine-hockey-girl @kailyn-writes @happer08 @stroopwaffle8 @nateslehky @rosesvioletshardy @sorryjustafangirl @laurenairay @hockeyunits @musiclove-12 @ilyasorokinn @jostystyles @comphyjost @ya-pucking-nerd @beauvibaby @sourjoonie @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @itrocksmysocks @typical-simplelove @boqvistsbabe @eightmakar @antoineroussel @suitandtys @equallyshaw​ @andreburakozy​ 

[huggybug]

50 for Nathan MacKinnon? Happy dilf day!

happy dilf day!

50. “Why did you teach them that?”

Nate was a good dad. Sure, he wasn’t around all the time and it definitely wasn’t easy but he tried his hardest to make sure he was there for your daughter. His constant facetime calls on the road were a highlight of Scarlett’s day and you knew Nate loved it just as much. However, despite his commitment to her during the season, nothing compared to when he was home.

Nate loved taking your toddler to the park or out on little excursions and he was always making sure you were getting enough time away from the house if you wanted. All in all, Nate was a great dad and a wonderful husband... for the most part. 

Walking into your house, you can hear that a few of the guys are over and guessing by the cars in the driveway, it was Gabe, EJ, and Cale. You aren’t attacked in a hug until you reach the living room, Scarlett jumping off of Nate’s lap to waddle over and give you a giggly hug as you say hello to everyone.

“How was lunch?” Nate asks with a smile when you cross the room to sit with him on the couch.

“Good, my mom wants to invite us over for dinner soon”

“Yeah sure that’d be great”

“Show Y/n what Scarlett can do!” EJ chimed from the other side of the room with a big smile.

“Oh yeah this is cool” Nate smirks. “Scar? Can you get Daddy a drink?” You watch as your daughter obediently hops up and wanders into the kitchen. You hear the fridge open and shut before she emerges with a cold beer in her hand.

“Nathan!”

“What?” His eyes went wide, not liking being on the receiving end of your scorn.

“Why did you teach her that?” 

“It’s funny” He shrugs and you sigh loudly.

“Our three year old serving you alcohol is not funny” You turned to Gabe and Cale who were laughing. “I trusted you two to be responsible” You waved a finger between them but your words only made EJ let out a squawk.

“Hey! Why just them?” 

“Erik Johnson if you think I would trust you with anything-”

“Okay no reason to be rude” You roll your eyes at the dramatic display.

“Just at least promise me you won’t teach her how to open the can?” You turn to Nate who smirks before nodding and cracking open his fresh beer.