#nate mackinnon x you

[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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[fallinallincurls]

i find myself going back and reading your fics with little noah mackinnon very often! i’m not even close to having kids, but i love the thought of them climbing into bed looking for their parents. maybe after a rough game like this with noah going and making his dada smile with cute baby giggles 🥺. just having a day full of love after such a sad loss

ohmygosh anon thank you for this!! i LOVE noah graham mackinnon so much and there’s plenty more i haven’t even written yet but i’m so happy out like the fics i’ve posted so far. also spoiler alert, in the baby avs verse as @tonyspep and i have named it, noah gets two little siblings so!! this idea is adorable so here you go🥺

a toddler can’t fully grasp what happened tonight, you know that. but noah is familiar with both nate’s happiness after a win and sadness after a loss. he could tell his dad wasn’t happy when he gave him the usual excited postgame hug.

but noah’s bright smile and joy was enough to make nate happy, even if you could tell something was still off. it convinced noah that everything was okay.

or so you thought.

you snuggle in closer to nate in bed, wrapping your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his chest as a silent reminder you’re there. and just as you close your eyes, ready to go to sleep, the bedroom door creaks open and the softest “dada?” is said into the quiet air of the room.

“is that noah?” nate asks you, confused if he heard the little voice correctly. before you can respond, your son is on nate’s side of the bed and is gently tugging on his strong arm.

“dada!” the little boy exclaims, a smile lighting up his face as nate scoops him up and places him on his chest. noah snuggles in for a moment before pulling back to look at nate. “no sad, dada. no.” noah shakes his head, pressing his little hands into nate’s cheeks which are still covered with scruff. “ah! scwatchies!”

nate laughs, the joyful sound filling your heart with so much love. a tough loss hurts but somehow your son has the magic touch of always cheering your husband up.

“sorry, noah. scratchies are still there. but i’m not sad. how can i be with you here? and mommy too!” nate replies, tickling noah’s sides to which he giggled loudly.

“dada!” noah practically squeals and you can feel it right then, the sadness and pressure and disappointment that has been hanging over nate since that final buzzer is gone. all because of the little boy you both love so much.

“you win next.” noah says simply, settling against nate’s chest again. nate’s sweet smile never falters as he kisses the top of his son’s head, smoothing back his messy red, blonde hair.

“thanks for making sure i’m not sad, bud. and next year, i’ll win the cup for you, okay? for you and mommy.” nate promises, looking over at you with so much love in his blue eyes.

“mhm, no sad now.” noah mumbles, slowly falling back asleep in the comfort of his father’s arms. you can’t help but smile at the scene, leaning your head against nate’s shoulder.

“i love you.” you say quietly to both your boys. and as you fall asleep together, you dream of nate winning another cup and sharing the exciting moment with your little family.

in this verse’s timeline, nate wins his second cup the year when the twins are born which would be about a year after this so HEHE

[literaryslapshot]

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 :)

masterlist | feedback

[withwritersblock]

Fix You

~Fix You by Coldplay~

Author's Note: requested Summary: Nate shows up to Y/N's work unexpectedly Warnings: Blood, broken nose Word Count: 1,112 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

She stood at the nursing station, writing notes into some of the patients charts. She kept her gaze on the computer, despite the ruckus that was going on throughout the ER. Her friend and co-worker, Noelle leaned against the counter, she had a knowing smile on her lips.

Y/N lifted her gaze to meet Noelle’s gaze. Y/N’s eyes widened as she tilted her head to the side. “What did you do?” she asked, dropping her hand to the side. Noelle shook her head as she clamped her mouth shut, pointing towards the trauma one bay window. Her fiance, Nate, was sitting on the ER bed arguing with the training staff.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled as she shot up from her chair and manuvered through the many bodies in the living room towards the door. She shoved her way inside. “Nate? What the hell?” she asked as she met his gaze, he tried to smile but his nose was completely shifted to the side. He squinted his eyes shut as he held his breath.

His face was covered in dry blood. “Nate, what the hell!” she asked again as she shoved past a few of the other doctors and nurses. They gave her concerning looks, many of them completely unaware of how they know each other.

“It’s fine,” he let out, his voice rasped. 

Her eyes widened as she smacked her hand against his arm, “This is not fine, what happened tonight?” she asked as she squeezed his bicep, her heart beating faster. He met her gaze, his eyes starting to blacken already.

“It looks worse than it is,” he mumbled as he clenched his jaw back, one of the nurses shut the blinds in the room. 

“It looks like Adam Foote’s nose,” she let out, sadly reaching her hand over, delicately resting her hand onto his chin. Turning his head back and forth.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” Nate let out teasingly, he bit his bottom lip as he rested his hand onto the small of her back.

“We’re checking for a concussion and possibly a more serious TBI,” the trainer said, widening his eyes as he met Y/N’s gaze. She furiously shifted her gaze back towards Nate. He licked his lips as he sighed.

“Shoulder to nose,” Nate mumbled, flinching slightly as one of the nurses tried to wipe more of the blood off of his skin. He shrugged her off.

“Nathan, let her help,” she scolded as she tightened her grip along his arm. He turned and met her gaze. He rolled his eyes as he tilted his head towards the nurse. He shut his eyes, letting her try and wipe the dry blood off of his skin. She ran her hand up and down his arm. He clenched his jaw as the woman delicately wiped his skin.

“Can I see the hit?” she asked one of the trainers. He pulled the Ipad from his bag and handed it to her. Nate tilted his head to the side as the Nurse adjusted his face to try and clean more of his skin.

Y/N gasped as she watched the Bruins player hit him and Nate flying into the air, the blood that poured from his nose afterwards. “Oh my god, honey,” she mumbled as she tightened her grip around the arm. 

“It’s honestly not that bad,” he let out as he met her gaze. She took a deep breath as he reached his hand around her back, “Can we get this MRI over with?” he asked one of the doctors. They shared glances as they nodded. He looked towards Y/N, her eyes welling up in tears. “It’s probably just the nose,” he muttered, widening his eyes, “Who needs a straight nose anyway?” he muttered, smiling. He flinched. 

“It’s not funny, Nate,” she let out, a soft sob rising in her throat. 

“I’ll be alright,” he mumbled as he rested his hand onto hers. The doctor cleared his throat as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“It’s time for the scan,” the doctor muttered. Nate nodded as they began rolling him out of the room.

~~~

He laid on the couch, his head rested in her lap as he was holding an ice pack against his nose. They told him he was out for six weeks due to the severity of the damage to his nose. She ran her fingers through his hair as they were watching the Avalanche game in Calgary. 

“I’m fine, I don’t nee-” he expressed as he pulled the ice pack away from his nose, she dropped her gaze. She clenched her jaw as she stared towards him harshly. He let out a huff as he placed the pack back on his nose.

“If you were fine, the doctor would’ve said so. Keep the ice on your damn nose,” she scolded as she shifted her gaze back towards the TV. He rolled his eyes as he clenched his jaw. 

“What’s ice gonna do?” he protested again.

“Help with the swelling, you know that,” she said as she tapped her hands against the top of his chest. “You’re a professional athlete, asshole,” she mumbled while shaking her head. He let out a long drawn out breath as he adjusted the ice pack on his face.

“Six weeks seems like too much time,” he let out as Naz scored a goal. Y/N rolled her eyes again as she continued running her fingers through his hair. 

“They’re up by four goals, my love, they can survive without the Dogg, for a few weeks,” she said as she pulled the ice pack away from his nose, getting a better look of his eyes. His eyes were swollen and bruising. He pouted his lips slightly before he shifted his gaze back towards the game.

“Don’t like watching from my couch,” he muttered while shaking his head. She took a hold of his face, forcing his gaze back towards her.

She leaned down and kissed his lips briefly, “Your nose needs to heal, my love. It’s the worst broken nose Dr. Rochester has ever seen, Nate,”

“Don’t remind me,” he mumbled as he placed the ice pack back on his nose. He shifted his gaze back towards the screen. She leaned down, pressing her lips against his forehead. 

“They’ll be back in town tonight, you can bug them at practice tomorrow,” she mumbled as he tilted his head back. 

“Obviously,” he mumbled before he pulled the ice away from his face, puckering his lips. She smiled before she leaned down and kissed him. “Love you,” he whispered as she hovered her lips against his.

[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.

[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.

[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 like a wave, 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.

[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. 

[writingwithciara]

mending hearts -ross colton-

summary: things begin to change when y/n's brothers new teammate moves into the apartment she shares with him

word count: 7.8k (one of my longest)

pairing: ross colton x mackinnon!reader

notes: sorta enemies to roommates to lovers, toxic relationship, brief violence

y/n and nathan were always inseparable growing up. she looked up to him and he did what he could to protect her. nobody was allowed to be mean to her & only he was allowed to pick on her. but that's just a brother's right.

when nathan went to the nhl, y/n was the happier than anyone. she loved seeing him succeed.

and the distance only strengthened their relationship. y/n would've joined him in denver right away but she still had a few years of schooling left. but everyone knew exactly where she would be going when she graduated.

the day after she graduated high school, she flew from halifax to denver and met up with nathan. he introduced her to his teammates and she immediately hit it off with cale, gabe and mikko. the three of them began protecting y/n as if she was their younger sister, despite cale being the same age. they were her best friends and she loved being around them.

y/n immediately moved into nate's apartment and started going to school for media production. she went with nathan to a lot of his games and practices and as soon as she was able to, y/n joined the media team for the avalanche. she gained the ability to spend even more time with her favorite people, as she was also allowed to travel with them on roadies. she was having the time of her life.

and then it all changed.

before the 2023-24 season began, ross colton was traded to the team from tampa. the boys immediately bonded with him and it took y/n time to come around.

but it was more difficult than she wanted to admit. especially after nathan told her that he was letting ross take the guest room in the apartment. she thought that being in a close proximity to someone she hated was not ideal.

and she was right.

they were constantly butting heads. about everything. nate found it funny when they would argue against each other but would have the same points of view on the topic. it just wasn't as funny to them. in fact, it was absolute torture.

it got worse the more time they spent around each other and the only upside was that nathan was no longer the only one who had to suffer through it.

luckily for him though, the team found it just as amusing. they loved to point out the similarities between the two, only to cause them to start bickering more about how different they believed they were.

it was chaos at home. but the fun kind of chaos.

the bickering began to simmer down after the team was knocked out of the playoffs by dallas. turns out that when they were stuck in the same place when hockey isn't on the forefront of their brains, y/n and ross kinda got along.

the 2nd week of the off season, y/n was at home cooking dinner. ross walked into the kitchen and eyed her suspiciously. she never cooked.

"what are you doing?"

"what does it look like?" she turned and rolled her eyes. ross just shrugged and continued to watch her. "fine. if you must know, nigel and i are celebrating our 2 year anniversary tonight. you need to be gone before he gets here." she started dating nigel almost right after she moved in with nathan.

"alright. when's that supposed to be?"

"within the hour. now go."

"alright, alright. i'm leaving." ross shook his head, grabbed his wallet and headed out the door.

y/n finished cooking and 5 minutes before nigel was supposed to show up, she set the table. she kept checking her outfit and hair, just to make sure everything was perfect.

but it didn't matter.

nigel was nearly two hours late and as y/n stood up to reheat the dinner, there was a knock on the door.

"it's about damn time you got here." she opened the door and she was not pleased with who was standing there.

"um, sorry. forgot my key. i'll go grab it and be out of your hair in 5 seconds." ross gently rushed by her and went to his room. when he came back out, he noticed the empty chair and the untouched dinner on the table. "where's nigel?"

"i have absolutely no idea." she sighed and mumbled under her breath, "he never showed up."

"i'm sorry. what was that?"

"he never showed up!" she raised her voice, causing ross to jump back a little. she never yelled.

"are you serious?" ross asked. when y/n didn't answer, he continued to talk. "wow. i'm really sorry, y/n. even someone like you doesn't deserve that."

"thanks, i think." y/n tried smiling but it hurt her to think of the effort she put into the night, only for it to fall apart. and before she knew it, tears were falling down her face.

"oh shit. are you okay?"

"seriously, does it look like i'm okay?"

"no." he sighed. "what can i do to make you feel better?"

"for starters, you could leave."

"wow. i was just trying to help & be a good roommate. but if this is the thanks i get, then just forget it." ross pulled his key out of his pocket and headed back towards the front door.

"wait. i'm sorry." y/n called after him. "thank you for trying. really. it's the most effort anyone has given me all day." she grabbed her phone and when she still had nothing from nigel, she wanted to throw her phone and be angry. but she couldn't do it.

"this may not help, but if you ask me, nigel is an idiot. he should be ashamed he forgot something as monumental as a 2nd anniversary with someone he claimed to 'love'. and i bet the dinner you made tastes delicious. it sure smelled good 2 hours ago."

"i wouldn't really know what the full thing tastes like. i only did a few taste tests while cooking it. didn't want to dig into the meal until nigel got here." she sighed.

"well," ross checked his phone. he was supposed to meet someone for dinner an hour ago but suddenly, he felt like he had something more important to do. "why don't i reheat the dinner and we can sit down to enjoy it?"

"what? do you not have anything better to do?"

"better than spending time with my annoying roommate? never." ross sent a smirk in her direction and when she turned her head to avoid his gaze, he knew she blushing. "so, what do you say?"

"fuck it. let's eat." y/n grabbed the food from the table and headed into the kitchen. ross followed and stopped behind her. "instead of reheating this, i'll just reheat what's still in the pot. at least it's still a little warm."

"okay. whatever you feel is best." ross stood back and watched as she dumped the plates in the trash bin and went over to the stove. as she stirred the food in the pots, ross went to the fridge. "do you still want to drink wine with dinner or do you want a more casual beverage?"

"wine is fine." y/n looked over her shoulder and watched as ross reached in the cabinet next to the fridge. he grabbed a bottle from the top shelf and before he caught y/n looking at him, she turned her attention back to the food.

less than 20 minutes later, the two of them were enjoying dinner and for the first time since meeting each other, a decent conversation. y/n was learning all kinds of things about someone she thought she couldn't stand.

"wait, no way. did that really happen?" y/n laughed at a story from ross' childhood.

"it really, honestly did." ross chuckled and sipped his wine. it's crazy how just an hour ago, the girl in front of him was home alone, crying over her shitty boyfriend and now she was laughing with tears in her eyes as he told her several stories from his childhood. he couldn't believe how civil they were being with each other. but he decided to blame it on two things. the wine and the fact they were alone.

"that's absolutely insane." y/n set her fork down on the plate and looked at ross. "hey, thanks for tonight. you really turned the night around for me."

"you don't have to thank me. if anything, i should be thanking you."

"why's that?"

"well for starters, that dinner was incredible. and i honestly can't even remember the last time i had this much fun."

"oh. well, you're welcome." y/n found herself suddenly blushing. she decided to blame it on the wine she had consumed tonight. she stood up and grabbed the dirty dishes, bringing them to the kitchen without another word.

ross stood up and followed her. y/n set the dishes in the sink and turned around, not realizing ross had followed her into the kitchen. he looked down at her as she jumped back a little.

"sorry. didn't realize you were right behind me."

"it's alright." he looked at his roommate. "where's nathan tonight?"

"at his girlfriends. um, for the night. he wanted to give me and...well, you know." she looked away and sighed. "i can't believe i put in so much effort and he couldn't even show up." by now, she could feel hot and heavy tears rolling down her cheeks. she turned away so ross couldn't see her but he moved to stand in front of her.

"hey, please don't cry over that asshole. he doesn't deserve your tears."

"i can't help it, ross! i love him and he just-he just," y/n looked up at the ceiling and tried to get the tears to stop. without thinking, she threw her arms around ross' torso and sobbed into his chest. "i should've expected this, though. it's not the first time he forgot something important."

"what else did he forget?" ross rubbed her back gently but found himself getting angrier with every bit of new information he found out about nigel. he always thought nigel was a terrible person and he could never figure out how y/n was with him. he still didn't understand what she saw in him.

"i celebrated 2 birthdays during the relationship and he forgot both of them. the first time, i'm not mad about because it was only 2 weeks after we started dating. but the second birthday, he claimed it was work related but he was posting on instagram all night while at another girl's birthday party."

"you can't be serious."

"dead serious." y/n stopped crying but she didn't remove herself from the comforting embrace. she was more angry than upset but somehow, ross rubbing her back in slow circles was beginning to soothe her. by the time she finally willed herself to look up at him, she could tell he was now angry. it was like while he was rubbing her back, he took all the emotions from her. "ross?"

"hmm?"

"you okay?"

"what?" he shook his head and looked down at her. "yeah. totally fine."

"i don't believe you but i don't want to start an argument right now so i'll just accept your answer."

"thanks." he avoided her gaze but still held onto her. his phone buzzed on the counter next to them and y/n accidentally glanced at it, thinking it was hers.

"ross, did you have plans tonight?" she asked as she caught a few words from a text before he snatched his phone off the counter. he typed a response and put it back in his pocket.

"does it really matter?"

"not really. just wanted to know." y/n shrugged and turned to look at the dirty dishes in the sink.

"yes."

"pardon?"

"i had plans tonight. i was supposed to meet this girl named nicole at a restaurant over an hour ago but i texted her and told her i couldn't make it. that i had a family emergency.

"you didn't have to stay here with me, you know."

"i know i didn't have to. i wanted to. some things are more important than a date, you know?"

"oh." y/n looked at her feet. "does that make us friends now?"

"yeah. maybe." he walked over to her. "did you say nate was going to be gone all night?"

"yeah. why?" she turned to face him, failing to remember how much room was actually in the kitchen. it was a fairly small space for such a large apartment. and with how close the two of them were standing, it was like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room.

"i think you should forget nigel."

"oh." she looked up at him. "wait, what? why?"

"because i can't kiss you while you're still in a relationship."

and before y/n could reply, ross was heading down the hallway to his bedroom.

the rest of the night, she was laying in bed, wondering why ross would say something so bold and then just walk away. did he mean it or was it just the slight intoxication?

not wanting to lose a chance to find out, she quickly sent a text to nigel. she checked it over to make sure her message was clear and when she saw the bubble pop up at the bottom, indicating he was typing a response, she locked her phone. she didn't care about whatever excuse he was about to come up with. all she cared about now was finding out the truth from ross.

without another thought, she got out of bed and walked out into the hallway. conveniently at the same time ross was walking out of the bathroom they shared. his hair was wet and he had a towel hanging around his hips, indicating he had just taken a shower.

"i broke up with nigel."

"and why would you do that?" he chuckled and moved closer. he already knew the answer but wanted to hear what she had to say.

"you said you couldn't kiss me while i was still in a relationship. i needed to know if you meant it."

"wouldn't that suck if i didn't mean it and you just broke up with your boyfriend for nothing?"

"after tonight, i was planning on breaking up with him anyway." she stepped closer and ran her finger down his chest. "as for if you meant it about the kiss or not, i couldn't care less. you don't have any effect on me."

"liar." ross smirked and held her face gently. he felt her body shiver underneath his touch and his suspicions were confirmed. "you want it just as bad as i do."

"wait, what?"

"just shut up." ross smiled and pulled her lips to his. he gently pushed her against the wall next to his bedroom door and when she gasped, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth to explore. the sudden surge of pleasure sent shockwaves down y/n's body and ross felt everything. "i knew you wanted me." ross chuckled when they pulled away to breathe.

"oh, shut up." y/n smirked and kissed him again. she had no idea what was coming over her tonight. everything going on was not normal for her. she didn't kiss her roommate or her brother's teammates out of habit. and she was certainly never this bold with what she wanted. granted, nigel was the only person she had genuine feelings for. a crush on gabe when she met him doesn't constitute real feelings. and what was going on between her and ross wasn't real feelings either, right?

she didn't care. as long as she was getting what she needed, it was all good.

and even though her night started out shitty, it ended how she wanted. even if it was with a completely different guy than the one she originally had planned to end up in bed with.

ross and y/n were woken up the next morning when nathan came home. he knocked on ross' door but got no answer so he went to y/n's door.

"nate, it's 6 in the morning. what do you want?"

"have you seen ross? he's not answering his phone and we have training camp in an hour."

y/n looked over at ross and raised her eyebrow. "no i haven't seen him. are you sure he's not already there?"

"no. guess i could check." he started walking away but turned back. "oh i forgot to ask. how was last night?"

"it was amazing. thanks for giving us some alone time, nathan. i owe you."

"yeah." he smiled. "maybe one day you could do the same for me and jennifer."

"will do, bro." y/n closed her eyes as she listened to her brother leave the apartment. when he was sure nathan was gone, ross looked over at y/n.

"amazing, huh?" he wiggled his eyebrows,

"shut up." y/n jokingly shoved his bare shoulder. it was then that she noticed the marks on his chest. "oh boy. you gotta come up with a cover story for those in case someone sees them."

"why can't i just say i had sex last night? that seems like the least suspicious thing to say."

"okay, you have a point." y/n grabbed her phone and noticed her reflection. "are you serious, ross? how am i going to explain these to nathan?"

"let's see, shall we?" ross sat up and chuckled. "he knows you and 'nigel' had sex so just roll with that story. plus, you're 26 years old. you can't let your older brother stop you from doing amazing things."

"ugh. stop making sense. this isn't normal."

"nothing that has happened in the last 24 hours is normal, y/n." ross chuckled and grabbed his towel from last night, considering it was all he had on when he pushed y/n into her room. "what we did was-"

"not normal?"

"i was going to say amazing and possibly use the word mind-blowing but if you think it wasn't normal, then we can forget it ever happened."

"no, ross. it was perfect." she sighed again "but i can't go behind my brothers back. we can't. it would violate his trust for both of us."

"oh you're so cute when you worry about other people." he leaned in closer to her. "sneaking around is what makes life exciting."

"didn't i just tell you to stop making sense?" she looked at him and smiled. "i hate that about you, ya know?"

"that i'm making sense or that i'm always right?"

"both obviously." she rolled her eyes and got dressed. "we should leave separately since we both have to go to the arena for training."

"yeah, you're right." ross went to walk out of the room but stopped. "so, where do we go from here, vis-à-vis the sneaking around?"

"we'll talk later." y/n smiled.

"or we can talk in the shower?" ross suggested, causing y/n to blush and laugh.

"we're going to be late."

"not if we shower together."

"or i can use nate's shower and you use ours."

"you know that's not very fun." ross stood in the doorway, effectively blocking y/n from leaving the room. "admit it."

"you're insufferable, you know that?"

"oh i'm well aware, baby." ross bent down close to her ear and even though he didn't have to, he whispered. "your call. i'll be in the bathroom in case you decide to join me."

y/n watched as ross entered the bathroom. he didn't even bother to shut the door. and before her brain could process what was happening, her feet were taking her into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. she grabbed ross' hand before he turned the water on.

"i knew you'd be joining me eventually." he smirked.

"just one shower. no funny business. okay?"

"come on, darling. you know it's hard to control myself around you."

"ross, i'm serious. i'm willing to share the shower with you but it's gotta be just that." y/n sighed. "i'm only saying this because it's hard to resist the temptation & because if we do anything other than shower, we're going to be late to training. then everyone will get suspicious & then sneaking around won't be a possibility anymore." she looked up at ross with a smirk as she started to undress. "and you wouldn't want to give that up, now would you?"

"um. n-no. absolutely not." ross removed the towel and got in the shower. he set the temperature to y/n's favorite and waited for her to get in.

the second y/n got in, their deal was forgotten. their lips were like magnets. finding each other without hesitation. the connection between them was stronger than it had ever been with anyone else.

so what should've been a 15 minute shower, was stretched into a 45 minute one. y/n could now check 'shower sex' off her list. as she got dressed, she made a mental note to add 'best sex i've ever had' in the margins next to her list.

ross watched y/n get dressed then suddenly remembered he needed to do the same thing. he went into his room and searched for something to wear.

y/n appeared in the doorway with a smile on her face. "so, i gotta thank you again for this morning. i mean, i have never had such mind-blowing sex before."

"yeah, me either." ross slipped the shirt over his shoulders and turned to face y/n. "so, you're not mad i ignored your 'no funny business' rule?"

"hey i'm just as guilty as you are." she smiled up at her roommate. roommate. she had to keep reminding herself that's what he was to her. nothing more. but every time she tried to tell herself that, she kept picturing his body and the way he had been making her feel, not just last night & this morning, but since he moved in.

"if i were to propose that we keep sneaking around, what would you say to that?"

"honestly, at this point, i think i would say yes." she looked over his shoulder. "why? are you asking?"

"yeah." he smiled widely. "i think i am."

"okay. but we gotta be careful because nate is smart. he'll catch on easily if either one of us slips up."

"got it." ross smiled and they walked to the front door together. "i'll see you at the arena?"

"20 minutes?"

"yes ma'am." ross leaned in to kiss her cheek and smiled before making his way down to the parking garage. y/n waited for about 5 minutes before she headed to her own. ross and nathan's spots were empty and she got in her car. she attempted to start it but nothing was happening at first. but after a 5th attempt, it sputtered to life and then immediately shut off. she was going to be late if she called a ride share service so her fingers hit ross' contact & she waited. but only for a second.

"hey. miss me already?" she could hear the smirk through the phone.

"yes. but that's not why i'm calling." she took a deep breath. "my car won't start and i thought about calling an uber or something, but-"

"you'd be super late to training." ross looked at his phone. "don't worry. i'm not too far. i'll turn around and come pick you up. as long as you're okay with arriving together."

"we won't have to hide the reason, thankfully." she smiled. "see you soon?"

"yes ma'am." he chuckled and turned around at the first opportunity. as he pulled back up to their building, y/n was waiting on the steps. she got in and smiled.

"thanks for doing this, ross." she buckled herself in and looked at him. "you're going to be late too."

"you don't have to thank me, y/n. it just gives me an excuse to spend more time with you." he winked at her and drove to the arena. "are you gonna tell nathan that you and nigel broke up?"

"eventually. i gotta figure out a way to explain it without him being suspicious of anything, or anyone for that matter."

"you'll figure out the best way, i just know it." without thinking, ross reached across the console and placed his hand on her knee. it was an almost intimate gesture but neither of them thought about it more as ross parked in the parking lot. he removed his hand and got out. "think they'll be upset we're a little later than normal?"

"we would've been on time if we had just taken a normal shower." y/n playfully rolled her eyes and walked into the building. ross followed behind her and he had to admit to himself that the view of her ass was amazing. clothed and unclothed. it was all perfect to him.

"not my fault you're so tempting."

"keep it down. someone might hear you." y/n smiled and stopped outside the media room. "are you able to give me a ride home after?"

"i hope so. if you're done before me, are you willing to wait around until i'm done?"

"of course." y/n opened the door and walked in. she immediately went to her desk and checked over the calendar. "oh, we're having them do pickup lines?"

"yeah. the fans are gonna go nuts over them, i think. are you excited?" her coworker, adam, smiled up at her as she sat down.

"who's all doing the video today?"

"um, let me check." adam grabbed his sheet and looked it over before looking back up at y/n. "landy, nate, logan, cale, mikko, georgiev, ivan, drouin, girard and ross."

for some reason, knowing she'd be in the same room as ross while he was attempting pickup lines, made her heart speed up. she didn't know what was happening.

while the boys were doing their training, adam and y/n were setting up the room and getting some good pick up lines. y/n found one that she would've loved to hear from a guy. and suddenly she was picturing ross saying it to her, making her weak in the knees.

"hey, before i forget, what are you doing this saturday night?"

"why? do you want to set me up with your brother again?"

"just one date with him. i promise you won't regret it."

"sorry, adam. but my boyfriend and i just broke up. i don't want to be set up yet."

"you and nigel broke up? when?" nathan appeared in the room, followed by cale and gabe.

"um, this morning. can we not talk about it?" y/n looked at her feet when ross walked into the room.

"what's the video topic today?" he asked.

"um, pick up lines. cheesy, romantic & weird."

"okay. cool." ross smiled and walked over to the bowl. "there's a lot here."

"i tried to find really good ones." y/n walked over to the camera as the other guys walked in. "do you guys wanna do this as a one-on-one competition or one at a time while trying to be as serious as possible?"

"we should do it like how we did the dad jokes." gabe suggested. the boys nodded and y/n put their names in a bowl so she could make the pairings.

"alright. the pairings are landy and logan, nate and girard, jonathan and ivan, ross and cale, & mikko and georgiev. gabe, you and logan are up first and we'll close it out with ross vs cale."

"sounds good."

adam hit the record button and gabe pulled out the first pick up line. it was a cheesy one and he made logan laugh before he even finished it.

the pick up lines competition was filled with tons of laughter. y/n found herself laughing at most of them and swooning at a few. mostly gabe's and one of jonathan's. and if she caved easily at theirs, she was dreading how she would react to ross' attempts.

as cale and ross took their seats, y/n remembered that none of the guys had picked up the special one she put into the mix.

as they began pulling out paper, ross kept glancing up at y/n. he knew she picked all these because she just mentioned it earlier but even if she hadn't, he would've known. they were as creative as she was.

y/n watched as the bowl got down to 2 slips of paper. either cale or ross was going to be reading off her favorite pick up line & she knew she would be screwed.

"roses are red, my face is too. that only happens when i'm around you." cale smiled and looked at the camera. "i love that and it works because i've been told my cheeks are almost always red."

and if that was cale's last pick up line, that meant ross really was going to be saying the special one she put in the bowl.

great.

"guess it's my turn again." ross smiled and pulled out the last piece of paper. he looked at cale and then towards the camera, knowing y/n was right there. "i'd never play hide & seek with you because someone like you is hard to find."

"awe that one was cute." cale looked at the camera and smiled. "that was fun. we should do that stuff more often."

as everyone left the room, ross stuck around to help y/n and adam clean up. adam gave him a suspicious look as he followed y/n around.

"shouldn't you be leaving with the boys?"

"i told nate you got a ride here with me this morning and that i had to wait for you to clean up. he said it was okay then he asked what you would want for dinner tonight."

"interesting. he never lets me choose what we have when it's his night to cook."

"maybe it's because you and nigel broke up." adam called out from his desk. he had his bag over his shoulder and was about to leave. "i believe that's what you told him a few hours ago, correct?"

"that's right. i did indeed." y/n smiled and grabbed her bag. "ready to head home, ross?"

"i keep forgetting you guys live together. maybe that's why nigel broke up with you. he was probably jealous of the insanely good looking guy you're living with and felt like he couldn't compete with it."

"thanks for that, adam. now ross is gonna be talking about it non-stop on the way home." y/n rolled her eyes and followed the two boys out of the media room. "he doesn't need anymore of an ego than he already has."

"hey, i speak the truth. openly and honestly. and ross colton is an extremely good looking man, whether you agree or not."

"thanks, man." ross smirked and looked over at y/n. she was walking beside him. close enough to where he could hold her hand but far enough that it would be obvious. especially to adam, who apparently sees everything.

"i'll see you on saturday, okay?" adam smiled as he got in his car and drove away.

"he's gay, right?" ross looked at y/n.

"yes. why?" she looked up at him and smirked. "wanna go on a date with him?"

"what? no." he chuckled and got in his car. y/n got in the passenger seat and turned to him. "after what we did last night and this morning, how could you think i played for the other team?"

"relax. i was just messing with you." y/n laughed. "why did you want to know if he was gay?"

"i was just wondering." ross avoided looking at her as he drove out of the parking garage.

"wait, are you jealous of my relationship with him?" she faced him. when he didn't respond and she noticed his grip had tightened on the wheel, that was all the answer she needed. "ross, he's pretty much my best friend at work. there's no need to be jealous. and before last night, there was nothing between you and i. so why exactly are you jealous?"

"can we talk about this later?" ross parked in the parking garage of their building and got out. y/n followed him to the elevator and when they were in, ross pressed the button to their floor but y/n hit the stop button. "why'd you do that?"

"we're alone. nate's not around to overhear our conversation. let's talk about what happened in the last 24 hours." y/n moved closer. her confidence was suddenly overpowering every part of her. it was taking over and it scared her a bit.

"you want to do this in an elevator?"

"why not? nobody can hear the conversation. we're completely alone." y/n leaned clsoe to his ear and whispered. "don't you want to try it?"

"try what, exactly? i thought you just wanted to talk." ross smirked.

"well if you wanna 'just talk' then we can definitely do that." y/n took a step back and smirked when ross followed her.

"i'm not saying that." he backed her up into the wall and held her waist gently. "i just wanted to do whatever you wanted."

"and i do want to talk. later. but right now, we're alone and i don't know the next time we'll be able to do this." she reached behind him and played with the hairs on the back of his neck. "but if you don't want to do this, then we don't have to."

"you make some really good points." ross chuckled. "and as much as i want to continue this, i don't think the elevator is a good place. it's not comfortable."

"alright. maybe we can get away from nate for a night."

"you owe him some alone time with jennifer. maybe we can use that to our advantage somehow."

"oh for sure. maybe this weekend since it's your free week."

"we can talk to him when we get inside." ross backed away and hit the stop button again, causing the elevator to start moving again. he leaned against the opposite wall and stared at y/n. "come here."

y/n did what was asked and stood in front of ross. he continued to admire her.

"why'd you want me over here?"

"so i could kiss you. one last time before we had to go back to the apartment." ross chuckled and gently placed his lips on hers. she didn't hesitate to kiss him back. just before they got to their floor, they pulled away. out of breath and with his eyes still closed, ross managed to mutter "i don't know if i can wait until the weekend."

"you'll live, ross." y/n smirked and got off the elevator when it opened onto their floor. ross followed her and when nate opened the door, he froze in shock.

"where have you been? i was so worried about you, y/n."

"nate, relax. the elevator got stuck for a few minutes. i'm fine."

"i thought maybe you guys ran into nigel and he was upset about the breakup and did something horrible. but then i remembered you were with ross so if nigel had cornered you guys, you would've been safe. because even though you two don't like each other, i know ross would've protected you with his life. right?"

"oh yeah. for sure." ross looked at y/n and entered the apartment.

"oh. speaking of being with ross and being safe," y/n began. ross gave her a look, thinking she was about to tell her brother what they had been doing behind his back. but she didn't say a thing about it. "we were thinking that maybe this weekend, we could give you and jennifer 2 full days of alone time while we went somewhere else."

"yeah. or we could send you guys somewhere for two days while we stayed here." ross smiled. "how does that sound?"

"it actually sounds like a good idea. thanks, guys." nate chuckled and sat on the couch. y/n went into the kitchen while ross sat next to nathan. "you'll protect y/n while i'm away, right?"

"of course i will, nate. she may not be my favorite person. but she's important to you so i'll do everything to make sure she's safe."

2 days later, nate and jennifer were on their way to a fancy hotel while y/n and ross were laying in bed together. it had only been 2 hours & they had already had sex 3 times.

as they debated if they were going to have another round or not, there was a knock at the door. y/n went to get out of bed but ross stopped her and slipped on some pants.

"i'll get rid of whoever that is. be right back." he kissed her before walking to the door. he opened it and nigel was standing there. "hey. what's up?"

"is y/n here? i need to talk to her."

"one minute. i'll go see if she's here." ross let him in and went down the hallway."hey. nigel's here and he wants to talk to you. he looked really upset."

"oh okay. tell him i'll be right out." she searched for her clothes while ross went back to nigel.

"she's jsut getting dressed. she'll be out in a minute."

"how's she been the last few days?"

"she's been alright, i suppose." ross looked at y/n's ex. "heard you guys broke up. sorry man."

"it's my fault. i shouldn't have been careless with her. she's special."

"yeah. if you say so." ross looked back towards the hallway, hoping y/n would emerge soon.

"i gotta admit, i was always a little jealous of you."

"oh? why?"

"y/n always talked highly of you and nathan. mostly you, honestly. always thought something was going on between you."

"i can guarantee that absolutely nothing is going on between us. never has been and never will be."

"i appreciate it, man."

"yeah, you're welcome."

"hey, nigel. what are you doing here?" y/n finally came out of her bedroom. she was fixing her jeans as she approached the guys.

"i wanted to come talk to you. apologize for being careless, and whatnot." he looked at her.

"we're not getting back together, nigel." y/n shook her head slightly.

"i know, i just wanted to apologize." he handed her a small box. " i bought this for you months ago. i'm sorry." he looked up at her as she set the box on the shelf in the front hallway. he could see a dark purple mark on her shoulder, just under her shirt. it looked fresh and suddenly, his attitude changed. "are you serious?"

"about what?"

"it's been 3 days and you're already getting someone to mark up your body?"

"oh, this? you've got it all wrong, nigel. it's a burn."

"i always had my suspicions that you might've been fooling around with someone else. but i thought you were better than that." nigel chuckled dryly.

"okay, buddy. you are in no position to talk about 'fooling around' during the relationship." ross stepped between the former couple, shielding y/n from the anger he could seebuilding inside nigel. "you forgot every important event in your relationship with y/n, in favor of spending time with another girl. and a different girl each time. maybe you should rethink things before you start treating y/n like she was the problem."

"it was you wasn't it?"

"just leave, nigel." y/n looked around ross' body. "please?"

"you two are seriously pathetic." nigel shook his head. as he turned around, a thought came to his head. he turned back towards y/n and punched ross before walking out of the apartment.

ross watched him leave and y/n held his face. "are you alright?"

"yeah. it's just a little busted lip. i'll be fine." ross chuckled. "how about you? are you alright?"

"just a little emotional damage. but nothing i didn't really ask for myself."

"whether it was your fault or not, he shouldn't have ever spoke to you that way." ross kissed her forehead. "and it was never your fault."

"ross, i know it was. i was the one who broke up with him."

"but he was the one who forgot all the important events with you. he built it all up until you had enough." ross looked at her. "you didn't deserve that. you're a better person than i am for putting up with it as long as you did."

"i only did it because i thought we were in love. but i guess it was just one-sided."

"you deserve someone who loves you & puts in the same amount of effort to keep the relationship alive."

"and so do you." y/n smiled and rested her head against his chest. "thank you for defending me. i could've done it myself but you did it better"

"you've been thanking me a lot lately." he couldn't help but chuckle. "but i don't mind. i think i like it a lot."

"well if you like me thanking you with my words, i'm sure you'll love how i thank you another way."

"is it sex? please tell me it's sex." ross chuckled.

"yes, ross. it's sex." y/n smirked and took off towards her bedroom. she was already half undressed by the time ross arrived.

"you're so perfect." ross pulled his pants off and pulled her in for a kiss.

over the rest of the weekend, y/n and ross couldn't count the amount of times they had sex. they both just knew it was a lot.

nathan and jennifer were due home any minute and ross didn't want to stop having fun. he had grown quite attached to y/n outside of their extra curricular activity, even if he would never admit it to anyone.

"nate's going to be home soon and unless you wanna tell him you've been sleeping with his sister, then i think we need to stop." y/n tried to reason with ross but he kept kissing her neck in the spot that made her the weakest.

"i can't help it." he smirked.

"well then can we at least put some clothes on, just in case he comes in here?" y/n used all the energy she had to pull away from him. she ignored his protests and got dressed, smiling when he did the same.

"i'm not ready for the weekend to end."

"i'm not either." y/n admitted. "maybe we really should tell nathan."

"are you serious? he'll kill me."

"no he won't. i'll make sure of it. it's my turn to protect you." y/n smiled. she heard the keys in the front door. "and now's the perfect time."

y/n and ross greeted nate in the front hall. he had seen them exit y/n's room together but didn't question it. he knew they were finally becoming friends and was happy about it.

"hey guys. how was your weekend?" nate asked as he set his bags down.

"it was surprisingly fun. who knew ross could be such good company?"

"well, i did." he chuckled and turned to his teammate. "did you protect her?"

"oh yeah. nigel came over the day you guys left and wanted to see her. then he got mad, accused her of sleeping with me and punched me in the face when i defended her."

"you're not sleeping together, right?"

"actually, i need to tell you something, nate." y/n turned to her brother. "it started the night that was supposed to be my super special two-year anniversary dinner with nigel. he kept me waiting for 2 hours & he ended up not showing up. so ross, being the kind person he is, cancelled his plans and stayed with me so i wouldn't feel bad. i broke up with nigel that night and i know this is going to make me sound terrible, but i don't care. i had sex with ross that night and we've been sleeping together every day since then. sometimes even more than once a day."

"so, the morning after the anniversary, when i couldn't find ross, he was in your room?"

"yeah." y/n looked up at her brother.

"when you moved in with me, i gave you one rule. and that was to not get involved with my teammates, new or old. and you broke that rule." nathan shook his head, clearly upset. "how could you be so stupid, y/n?"

"hey man. don't be mad at her. it's my fault. i couldn't get enough of her. she's perfect and i think..." he paused for a second before shaking his head. "no, i know." he turned to look at his friend. "i love her, man. she's my best friend and she's the best thing that has ever happened to me, honestly. nigel clearly screwed up, and i hate that. but she deserves to be loved properly. and i-i want to do that. if you could just give me a chance to prove it to you."

"well, i think that would be up to her, actually." nate smiled. even though he was upset a minute ago, hearing his friend say he was in love with his sister, made him happy. and not just for y/n, but for ross as well.

they both looked towards y/n, who was just standing there. completely speechless. her gaze traveled from nate to ross, shocked to have heard what was just said.

"so, what do you think about that, y/n?"

"i don't know what to think." y/n looked at ross. "you love me?"

"yeah. i really do. and at first, for me, i thought it was just about the sex. but after the second time, i knew it was real and that there was a genuine connection between us."

"i thought i was the only one who felt it, honestly." y/n smiled and approached ross. "you love me." she repeated.

ross chuckled. "yes i do. who knew?"

"i kinda thought there was something between you guys months ago. i had hope that whatever hatred you two had in the past would turn into something. and i was right all along." nathan smiled.

y/n smiled at her brother and turned to ross. "for the record, i love you too, ross."

ross went to lean in for a kiss but nathan stopped him. "hold up, buddy. let me go over the rules, okay?"

"okay."

"first, if you hurt her in anyway, i'll kill you. second, no pda in front of me. third, just treat her how she deserves. and fourth, protect her. keep her safe."

"okay. i can handle the rules. and don't worry about her being safe. i'll do anything to protect her."

"good." nathan smiled and headed to his room. "okay you can resume your pda."

ross wasted no time in crashing his lips onto y/n's. y/n kissed him back with as much passion as she could muster.

the kiss was different. but in a good way. perhaps it had everything to do with the fact that their feelings were finally shared and everything was out in the open.

they had no reason to hide. nor did they want to anymore.

[sashabarkovs]

through worlds, worlds

author :: SashaBarkovs

pairing :: Jonathan Drouin x Nathan MacKinnon (future Jo x Nate x Sid)

word count :: 3.9K

tags :: BDSM-AU

When Jonathan Drouin enters Team Canada’s Combine, it’s not just a spot on the roster he’s fighting for - it’s clarity amidst the chaos. His complicated feelings for Nathan MacKinnon, his best friend and dynamic-compatible partner, hover over every glance and touch, the tension between them a constant undercurrent that keeps Jo perpetually off-balance.

And then there’s Sidney Crosby, Team Canada’s captain - a living legend whose presence sends Jo’s world into a deeper spiral. Sidney’s arrival into their lives shifts the fragile equilibrium between Jo and Nate, adding another layer to the simmering confusion that Jo struggles to keep buried.

Each drill becomes a test of more than skill; every moment shared on the ice feels like a quiet battle of emotions, a push-and-pull Jo doesn’t know how to win. As the pressure to prove himself mounts, Jo’s questions grow heavier. Who is he, beyond the competition? And what will happen when the line between friendship and something more becomes impossible for him to ignore?

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Prologue

Hockey wasn’t what it used to be. The days of NHL franchises and rivalries built on city pride or cross-continental showdowns had faded into memory. What remained was simpler, yet somehow more profound: pulling a jersey over your head with your country’s crest stitched across the chest, playing for something greater than a championship ring or a polished trophy. It wasn’t about the name on the back - it was about national glory, collective legacy, and the honor of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the best that your homeland had to offer.

At the center of this shift was the World Hockey Tournament, a month-long crucible where the twenty strongest nations clashed for supremacy. For the players, it wasn’t just a game - it was everything . It was a proving ground, a stage where every ounce of skill and grit was laid bare. Here, glory was earned in bloodied knuckles and bruised ribs, where childhood dreams met grown-up sacrifices. It was what they had dreamed of as kids on frozen ponds, where every slapshot and clumsy save whispered, one day.

But dreaming about it and getting there were worlds apart. Making the team wasn’t just about raw talent; it was about surviving a process designed to test every fiber of who you were. Years of sacrifices had built the athletes who made it this far: missed birthdays, wrecked knees, and grueling summers that felt endless. The emotional toll? That cut even deeper. Miles of road between home and the rink and the crushing weight of expectations had a way of grinding down even the steeliest resolve.

At the heart of it all was the pairing, the bond . The sport had evolved to rely on partnerships: Dominants, Submissives, and Switches, each bringing something essential to the ice. Dominants led with control and clarity, the unshakable force teams leaned on when the game was slipping away. Submissives brought stability, sensing the pulse of the game, steadying the team when the pressure mounted. Switches? They bridged the gap, shifting seamlessly where they were needed most. Finding the right match was everything.

It wasn’t just about stats or drills under the sterile buzz of fluorescent lights. This level of hockey demanded something harder to measure, something deeper. Talent could get you noticed, but it wouldn’t get you through. At its heart, the game wasn’t just about speed or strength - it was about connection. A rhythm that hummed between players when it was right, and left an aching void when it wasn’t.

The Combine was where it all came to a head. Rookies needed to prove they could fit . That they could find - or keep - their partner. Someone who could anchor them, steady them when the ice felt too thin. Veterans clung tightly to theirs, knowing just how rare a perfect match could be. It wasn’t enough to skate faster or hit harder. You needed someone who made the ice feel smaller, the game slower. Someone who amplified your strengths and softened your weaknesses.

But the system wasn’t perfect. For all its precision, pairing compatibility was as much an art as a science. Sometimes a partnership burned bright and fizzled out; sometimes it never clicked at all. There were players whose skills shone, but without the right partner, they never made it off the sidelines, perfectly skilled but just… not enough.

And yet, for those who made it - who stood in the locker room, jerseys on their backs, hearts pounding as they waited to step onto the ice - it was all worth it. Through the deafening roar of the crowd, the sharp chill of the rink air, to glance over to see them standing with you - not just another player, not just a teammate, but your partner. Your match. It was worth it. 

Every year, it all started again: veterans fighting to prove they still belonged, rookies clawing their way into the lineup, legends taking their final bows. And beneath the cheers and the bright lights, beneath the bruises and exhaustion, one question always remained, quiet but insistent: Who am I without my partner?

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Chapter 1

Team Canada Training Complex

Toronto, Canada

The morning air had a bite to it - not harsh, just enough to make you rub your arms and wish you’d grabbed a hoodie. It wasn’t cold exactly, more the kind of chill that clung to early May mornings before the sun climbed high enough to burn it off. The prospects gathered around the track outside the Team Canada training complex, the ground underfoot still damp with dew. The faint scent of wet grass and fresh dirt mingled with the clean, metallic tang of the crisp air, waking you up in a way no amount of coffee ever could.

It was quiet for now, but the kind of quiet that wasn’t really quiet at all: soft shuffles of sneakers on the track, a low murmur of conversation here and there, the occasional nervous laugh cutting through the tension. The group was scattered but tight, little clusters of players who’d found familiar faces or stuck close to someone who seemed less intimidating than the rest. The energy was undeniable - subtle but thrumming under everything, like a drumbeat you couldn’t ignore.

The track stretched ahead of them in a long, perfect oval, bordered on one side by the looming shadow of the training complex. Its clean lines and towering height had a way of making everything else feel small, including the people standing in its shadow. It wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be. It had weight - a presence that quietly but firmly reminded you this wasn’t just a rink, or a gym, or a meeting place. It was the place. The arena where expectations met reality, where dreams were tested and either forged into something stronger or left to fall apart.

Fifty prospects lined up along the track, dressed in Team Canada training gear - a mix of joggers, shorts, t-shirts, and sweatshirts, layered with lightweight mesh jerseys in their dynamic colors. Submissives in blue, Dominants in red, Switches in green. Together, the colors created a moving mosaic, shifting with each step or shuffle, distinct yet interwoven. It was a reminder that, here, individuality gave way to something greater: the balance, the synergy, the crucial connection that would one day make or break their shot at the roster.

Jo adjusted the hem of his jersey, the blue mesh brushing against his forearm like static. The knot in his stomach wasn’t fear - not exactly. It was sharper than that, charged and buzzing, like the tension of watching a puck gliding toward the net in the split-second before it crosses the line. Each breath deepened the weight on his chest, an invisible anchor pressing him down. This wasn’t just about the Combine; it was about the silent expectations bearing down on him, a question he couldn’t escape: Can you do this?

Jo shifted on his feet, glancing around at the others. There wasn’t a lot of talking now; the quiet was starting to take hold. Maybe it was the air, or the weight of the track under their sneakers, or the sheer gravity of standing here, where so many legends had started before them. Everyone was here for the same reason. Everyone felt the stakes. And in the silence, you could almost hear it: the whispered promise of what might come next, and the bone-deep fear of what might not.

A voice broke through the restless hum in his head, steady and familiar. “You nervous?”

Jo turned, already knowing who it was. Nate stood a step behind him, close enough to offer his presence without crowding him. He wore his green mesh jersey, its fit hanging loose across his chest. The early morning air had left a faint flush on his face, though if Nate felt the lingering chill, he didn’t show it. He radiated an easy warmth that seemed to bleed into the space around him, the kind of confidence that softened the sharp edges of a moment like this. Always solid. Always there .

Jo arched an eyebrow, pulling a smirk onto his face to mask the twist of nerves under his skin. “In your dreams.”

Nate’s grin spread wide, teasing and full of light. But his voice held a quiet sincerity that tempered the joke. “This is my dream, Jo. Ours. Everything we’ve worked for.”

The words hit Jo in the chest, steadying him in a way he didn’t know he needed. Ours. For a second, he let himself hold onto that, let it settle beneath his ribcage, grounding him against the morning fog curling around their legs and the noise of forty-nine other prospects shifting in place. Nate’s belief - so certain and uncomplicated - was like a lifeline.

The sharp shriek of a whistle pierced the morning haze, drawing every head toward the front. From the mist, a figure emerged, firm and commanding, her footsteps striking the damp track with purpose. She wore the unmistakable gear of Team Canada – a grey pullover with the bold red maple leaf crest stitched across the chest, paired with matching track pants, their seams faintly reflective in the soft light.

"Alright, listen up!" Her voice was crisp, ringing out over the stillness and carrying effortlessly across the track. "You’re here because someone believes you have what it takes to wear a Team Canada jersey. But let’s be clear about one thing - most of you won’t make it."

Her words hit like a slap, hard and cold, the blunt truth bristling in the air.

"In the next few weeks, we’ll push you past your limits. We’ll test your skills, your mental toughness, your ability to perform under pressure. We’ll find out who can work as a team and who’s only here for themselves. And we’ll see, down to the last detail, whether your dynamic compatibility can hold up when it matters most. Because out there, on the world stage, there’s no room for cracks. You either rise together, or you fall apart.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle into the damp air, her eyes sweeping over the group, meeting each one in turn, measuring their resolve.

“If you’re still here when it’s all over, you’ll have earned the right to represent your country. You’ll wear that jersey not just because you’re good – but because you’re the best. That’s what it takes to stand among legends.”

With that, she stepped back, hands clasped behind her back, commanding attention with the ease of someone who had earned it long ago. "Now," her voice dropped, the final word thick with the gravity of it all, "let’s see who’s up for the challenge."

Her words sank deep, the weight settling into the group like stones in water, rippling outward with an unmistakable force. Jo felt them settle deep, heavy but grounding, a reminder of why he was here. Every bruise, every pulled muscle, every long night replaying drills in his head - all of it had led to this moment. This wasn’t just another step. This was the step.

"You'll break into groups based on your dynamics," she continued, her voice cutting through the fog with the same sharp precision as the whistle. "Group leaders will be waiting to start your stations. Dominants to station one! Submissives to station two! Switches to station three! Let’s move!"

The air came alive with movement. Feet shifted in perfect harmony, the soft shuffle of sneakers blending with the rustling of jerseys and quiet murmurs as the prospects made their way to their designated stations. Jo exhaled slowly, his breath steadying his pulse, grounding him as he turned right. The grass beneath his sneakers felt slick from the morning dew, soft but solid beneath each step.

The Submissives grouped together, their energy quiet but resolute. There were glances exchanged, a few fidgets, but they shared an unspoken focus that hummed just below the surface. Jo knew exactly why they were here, why he was here. Submissives weren’t just part of the team - they were the steadying force, the clarity in the chaos. They read the game, the ice, the shifts in tempo, and adapted with a precision that gave their teammates an edge.

It wasn’t about yielding - it was about trusting instincts, about staying grounded when everything around you threatened to tilt. Jo had spent years sharpening that calm, that ability to stay centered no matter the noise. His mind, just like his body, had been trained to read the subtle shifts, to hold steady when the pressure rose. They were as much a part of him as the stick in his hand or the skates on his feet. This wasn’t just what he did. It was who he was - not just a good player, but a reliable teammate, someone who could be counted on when it mattered most.

Jo’s eyes drifted across the field, landing on a cluster of green as the Switches moved toward their station. Nate was easy to spot. Even in a crowd, there was something magnetic about the way he carried himself - shoulders squared, stride confident but unhurried. Nate had always made confidence look effortless, like he’d never once doubted he belonged.

Their eyes locked from across the distance, and for a moment, everything else seemed to still. The fog around them parted just enough for Jo to see the quiet resolve etched on Nate’s face. There was no grin, no playful quip, just a look so steady it felt like a hand pressed firm against Jo’s spine.

Jo held the gaze, the weight of it settling over him like a quiet promise. His chest expanded with a slow, purposeful breath, and he nodded once, deliberate and certain. It wasn’t a word, but it was everything. I’m ready. Whatever it takes, I’ll meet you on the other side.

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

Jo positioned himself at the front of the agility ladder, his breath curling in soft puffs. His sneakers were damp from the dew clinging to the grass, and the lingering chill crept over his skin despite his best efforts to shake it off.

When the coach at station two called out the first command, a flash of nerves flickered in Jo’s chest. But then, just as quickly, his body fell into the rhythm. His feet hit the boxes between rungs with precision, light and fast, each step almost imperceptible against the steady drum of his heartbeat. It was the kind of movement that felt automatic - the part of training he could do with his eyes closed.

Forward steps, backward steps, lateral scissor hops, icky shuffles. Jo and Nate had done these drills so many times, they were second nature. They weren’t just movements to get through - they were the core of everything they did. Each step, each hop carved deep into their muscle memory, strengthening the balance, edge work, and reaction speed that formed the backbone of their game.

Jo understood how crucial those details were. How one slip, one stuttered movement, could cost a game. As he shifted sideways, his arms rose instinctively, finding balance, his breath measured but controlled. His thighs burned, but it was a familiar, welcome ache - one that pushed him forward rather than holding him back. He let the rhythm of the drill guide him, the steady repetition quieting the noise that buzzed at the edges of his mind.

The coach’s shout rang out - “Speed it up, prospects!” - and without missing a beat, Jo quickened his pace, his feet tapping faster, more precise. The movements clicked into place, each one sharper, more fluid. His body knew exactly what to do, even when his mind was tangled with the weight of the moment.

Jo’s eyes strayed toward station three, drawn instinctively in that direction despite the blur of effort clouding his vision. Even among the sea of green jerseys, Nate stood out - his movements smooth but deliberate, as if the drill itself bent to his will. Jo lingered on the sight, his focus slipping for a moment. It wasn’t just the ease with which Nate moved; it was the quiet strength he radiated, the kind that made him seem unstoppable

That image of Nate - steady and relentless - stirred something deep inside Jo. It wasn’t just admiration, though that was certainly there. It was a kind of reassurance, a reminder of what they’d built together over years, how every drill and every push felt like another thread tying them closer.grit

Jo tore his gaze away, forcing himself back into the rhythm of his own drill. Single-leg hops. His legs protested immediately, the ache in his thighs reminding him of just how much he had already pushed himself, but he settled into the movement, finding his balance. There was no time to question, no room for hesitation. This was more than just a drill; it was another step in proving to himself that he belonged here, that he could hold his own.

The whistle cut through the air again, sharp and commanding, signaling the start of the first rotation. Jo’s group shifted toward the sleds stationed at the far edge of the field, the movement purposeful. As they walked, Jo stretched his legs, feeling the residual tension from the ladder drills in his calves and quads, the familiar ache that told him his muscles were waking up, responding to the strain.

The sleds lined up neatly, their steel frames glinting faintly under the muted sunlight, each one weighted down by stacked plates. They looked heavy, almost ominous resting on the damp grass, and Jo’s pulse quickened as the coach began pairing them off.

“Marner, Drouin - you’re up,” the coach’s voice rang out, clear above the clamor of the field.

Jo turned to find Mitch Marner already bouncing lightly on his toes, his grin barely contained. Mitch’s boundless energy was always easy to spot, and today was no different. He shot Jo a quick nod as they moved toward the sled. They’d only known each other for a few days, but Jo liked Mitch; both of them grew up in the Canadian junior leagues, both Submissives, both trying to navigate the layers of expectation that came with their roles. It was nice, having someone to relate to in the midst of all the pressure.

“This isn’t about speed,” the coach’s gravelly voice broke through the moment. “It’s about power and control. Push hard, dig deep, and keep those cores tight. No sloppy forms, or you’ll do it again.”

Jo crouched at the sled, his hands gripping the cold steel bar, while Mitch leaned into the harness. “I hope you’re ready to work, Drouin,” Mitch teased, his breath coming in light bursts. “I didn’t eat all those pancakes for nothing.”

Jo gave a soft laugh and then they were off.

Jo pushed hard, feeling his legs strain as his feet dug into the ground, fighting against the weight of the sled and the slick grass beneath his sneakers. It was brutal, but he found his rhythm, focusing on every precise movement. Mitch, pulling from the front, planted his feet and leaned forward, his wiry frame straining as he powered through.

“C’mon, Drouin, you’ve got this!” Mitch called over his shoulder, his voice a mix of encouragement and playful challenge.

When it was their turn to switch, Jo slid into the harness, and Mitch took the sled. Jo leaned forward, gripping the straps tight across his shoulders, and dropped his body low, letting his core power the movement. He could hear Mitch behind him, offering the occasional quip between labored breaths.

By the time they reached the third station, Jo’s shirt was damp with sweat, sticking to his back, and his legs burned with exhaustion. The endurance drills stretched out before them, a grueling combination of sprints, down-and-backs, and longer runs. Jo stifled a groan as the coach’s voice rang out, cutting through the fatigue.

“This is about grit!” The coach barked, pacing in front of them with a commanding presence. “Not speed, not form - grit. When your body wants to quit, you dig deeper. When your legs are screaming, you shut them up and run.”

Jo cast a glance at Mitch, who was stretching his quads. “Still think those pancakes were a good idea?” Jo asked, the teasing tone slipping out despite the tightness in his chest.

“Fuel, my friend,” Mitch replied with a wink. “You’re about to see me turn those carbs into pure magic.”

Jo smirked, shaking his head. “We’ll see.”

The group lined up at the starting cones, and Jo crouched low, his fingers skimming the polyurethane as he focused on steadying his breath. The first whistle cut through the air, and they were off - a blur of motion as they tore down the track.

The sprints hit hard, short bursts of raw speed that demanded everything Jo had left. His legs burned with the effort, the sting of the air sharp in his lungs and throat as he crossed the line and jogged back, already preparing for the next sprint.

When the down-and-backs started, Jo’s body felt like it was betraying him. Sprinting to the first line, touching the ground, then turning to sprint back, followed by the next. Each stretch seemed to go on forever, the effort intensifying with every push-off. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging, and his legs screamed with each explosive movement.

“C’mon, Dru! Don’t let me beat you!” Mitch’s voice cut through the haze, and Jo found himself gritting his teeth and driving harder, refusing to be left behind.

By the time they hit the longer runs, the pace settled into a rhythm across the track. Jo’s legs felt like lead, his breath ragged and shallow, but there was something about the steadiness of it - the pounding of sneakers against the ground, the steady exhale of the group’s collective breath - that grounded him. It wasn’t about being the fastest or the strongest; it was about staying in the fight, about pushing forward even when every fiber of his body screamed for him to stop.

When the final whistle blew, Jo staggered to a halt, hands pressing against his knees as he gasped for air. Mitch collapsed onto the grass next to him, grinning up at the sky, his chest heaving.

“Well,” Mitch said between ragged breaths, “I think we absolutely crushed that.”

Jo sank down beside him, feeling the hum of exhaustion coursing through his body, mixed with a quiet, unexpected satisfaction. “Speak for yourself,” he muttered, a small, genuine grin tugging at his lips.

Mitch tilted his head, his playful grin widening. “Come on, Jo. Admit it. You’re having fun.”

Jo exhaled a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “If this is your idea of fun, I’d hate to see what you think hell looks like.”

Mitch snorted, nudging Jo’s arm with his elbow. “Hell probably has fewer water breaks. But you’re still standing, aren’t you? Well… sitting.”

Jo rolled his eyes, but the faint smile on his lips didn’t fade. As his gaze swept over the field - prospects sprawled out on the grass or easing into slow stretches - a quiet pride settled into his chest. Step by step, sprint by sprint, he’d fought past every ounce of doubt and every wave of fatigue.

And though his muscles burned and his lungs still screamed for relief, there was a simple truth that lingered. He’d made it through the morning. For now, that was enough.

[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

[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

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Dating Nathan MacKinnon Would Include:

Soft.

Soft words and touches.

Nate lives a hectic life, so he prefers to keep your relationship soft.

Cuddles. He likes to have you curled up on his chest, both in bed and when watching movies on the couch.

Since he’s away a lot for hockey, when you’re together, he doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or stop touching you.

He feels better playing when he knows that you’re in the stands. And you love going to his games and cheering him on.

He loves it when you wear his jersey. He finds it so fucking hot.

He tells you that he loves you a lot and does a lot to show you that he loves you because he really needs you to know that he loves you.

One of the ways he does that is by buying you things.

Oh man he loves to spoil you. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. Jewelry, that bag you saw in the window, flowers whenever he comes home, etc.

Part of that is also because he feels like he doesn’t deserve you and is constantly trying to “prove” himself to you.

You pick up on that and keep subtly telling him and you love him and are not going to leave him, but he doesn’t stop.

Constant phone calls/FaceTime/texts when he’s away.

You can always count on him to make you laugh when you’re feeling down.

Anniversaries and birthdays are important to him, so you better be ready for more presents and a romantic dinner.

He’s quick to jealousy, too. But, he won’t say anything about it, but you can pick up on it and happily remind him that you’re his ;)

Tagging: @pucksandpoutines @aw-hawkeye @caswinchester2000

[literaryslapshot]

ok anyway here’s my mean!nate request. sorry i can only pick angsty things for him even tho i love him. "you're the worst" <3333 do as you will tehe

february prompts | mean!nate mackinnon x reader | angst, mentions of ab*se, nate making excuses

this one is a shorty, kinda forgot how to write for him tbh...

"nathan why are you here if you're just going to degrade me?!" nate rolled his eyes, standing up off your couch and walked into your kitchen.

it's moments like this where you're not sure why you still let him in. you've never been official, you've never put a label on exactly what you are with nate. but if someone were to look at both of your instagram pages, if they asked your friend groups, it would sound like they're dating and the can't seem to get enough of each other. but in reality? nate hasn't ever taken you on an official date.

he opens your fridge and pulls out a water, some things to make himself a sandwich. this was a normal routine, he would do something to piss you off, you would call him out, he would separate the two of you for a little bit and it would be fine until he said something else again.

but by now, you were fed up. you'd had a stressful week and you wanted your place to yourself for the night. you didn't want him to intrude your space like this.

"no nate," you walk into the kitchen and close the fridge door on him. "i want you to leave, i want to be by myself for a little bit." he scoffed, looking up at you. at least he had the decency to put things back from where he got them.

he grabbed his keys and wallet, walking toward the door, "you're the worst," he mumbled. always has to get the last fucking word in.

"i'm the worst, nathan?" you walked toward him and he just pressed his head against the wooden door, "really? i'm not the abusive one here."

"abuse? fuck you mean, abuse?"

"you constantly degrade me, you're always calling me stupid, bitch, you have me in such a headlock nathan!" he turns around and looks at you like you're dumb. he looks at you as if you truly were the things he called you.

"c'mon you know it's just the way i talk, you know it's just what i'm used to-"

"no! stop making excuses, i...i thought you loved me. you can't keep yelling at me, pushing me around, then using me in bed to make me get over it nathan."

he presses his hand against the wall and rolls his head back, "stop calling me nathan, you know i don't like it when you call me that."

"then stop treating me like i'm your bitch. get out of my house."

[withwritersblock]

Colorado (For the First Time)

~Colorado (For the First Time) by Daniel Nunnelee~

Author's Note: I'm lowkey really proud of this idea ngl Summary: Y/N returns to Denver after her breakup with Nate Warnings: none? Word Count: 3,935 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

She hasn’t returned to Colorado since she broke up with Nate a year ago. It was a difficult time on her part, to break up with him right before he had a six away games but it was the only time she was able to move everything from their shared apartment to her new place in Seattle.

She didn’t want to go back to her hometown in Nova Scotia since she’s been away from it for eight years now. She couldn’t stay in Colorado because everything reminded her of him. 

The street they lived on for eight years together, the coffee shop she would go to every morning and before every one of his games. The hike they would take together every weekend he was home. The friends she made were also his friends. 

The signs all over Denver that talked about the Avalanche and Nathan. He was having the best season of his career, which was difficult to say because it seemed as though every season he was getting better and better. 

She moved to Seattle because that’s where part of her has always wanted to live. She loved the ocean and the rain. It seemed as though it was the perfect place to live. Except, she missed everything about Denver. 

Nate and Y/N’s relationship was perfect. She was happy with him and he was more than happy with her. Except they had been together since they were seventeen years old. 

It’s silly to say but Y/N wanted to get married and have kids before she was thirty. She was twenty-seven and Nate kept telling her he wanted to wait until after his career was done to get married. Which was understandable but Nate could have a career that would last another decade. 

Selfishly, Y/N couldn’t wait another decade to get married and start a family, she wasn’t even sure she could have children by then. She spoke to Nate about her wants and desires out of the relationship but he wouldn’t listen. He thought that she would drop it and then they’d go along his plan. But eventually, Y/N got tired of waiting around and just being his girlfriend. 

If he wasn’t ready to settle down and start an official life as one, she needed to step away. He couldn’t say the words and she couldn’t stay with him anymore. Within a few days her entire life in Denver was behind her.

Except her friends. She missed her friends dearly. Melissa and Gabe have been begging her to come and visit. Alongside a few of the other wives and girlfriends. She wanted to go but she felt as though it would be going behind Nate’s back. She didn’t want to do that. But here she was with her suitcase waiting on her Uber to her AirBnb she was going to be staying in for a few weeks. 

It was March in Denver and it was fifty degrees. It was beautiful and not too cold. Her Uber stopped in front of her, she double checked it was her own before she climbed inside. The driver was making small talk about why she traveled to Denver.

“Are you a sports fan? You should go see the Avs play tomorrow night,” he explained as he glanced towards her at a red light. She forced a polite smile.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it, I do love the Avs,” she mumbled as she took a deep breath before glancing at her phone to see Melissa had texted her. 

“Nathan Mackinnon is supposed to continue the home point streak tonight, you have to go see it. He’s insane,” the driver explained.

Hearing his name, felt like a dagger in her chest. The driver had no idea but it was unbearable to hear about him.

~~~

He was lying on his apartment couch tossing a tennis ball into the air with a random movie on his TV screen. He had an optional practice today, and he decided that he needed a day of recovery. He spent the morning getting a few treatments done at the arena and he was ordered to lay down and do nothing. Which was weirdly harder than he thought.

Gabe left the arena at the same time as Nate and decided to invite himself over to Nate’s apartment. Nate was starting to feel like himself once the season went into full swing. Except he was still empty. His entire NHL career he had Y/N by his side, this was the first season he was without her. Except, he knows that she still watches every game. 

He knows she was at the game in Seattle in November. She posted something on her Instagram story about being in Climate Pledge Arena. He got three assists on the night. All he wanted to do was call her and see her before he left Seattle. 

He didn’t. He couldn’t. He was selfish and waited too long. Her mind was already set on not wanting to wait, he couldn’t change it. 

“I’m trying to decide if I should tell you this or not,” Gabe muttered as he liftedh is gaze from his phone. Nate caught the ball and threw it for his dog, Maggie, before he switched his gaze to Gabe. 

“Well now you have to tell me,” he let out with a huff of air as he sat up, leaning his head against the top of the couch. Gabe paused for a few moments as he dropped his gaze towards his phone again before he took in a long breath.

“Y/N in town for a few weeks,” he said, meeting Nate’s gaze. His eyes widened slightly as he became still. “Melissa has missed her a lot, she’s staying at a BnB near uh-here actually,” Gabe explained further. 

Nate dropped his gaze towards his lap at the ball, Maggie dropped in his lap. He took it and threw it down the hallway. “Have you seen her?” he asked, his voice breaking while he spoke.

“Yeah, she saw the kids and stayed for a few drinks,” he said as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his hands. “She’s good, I mean she loves her new job in Seattle. Her and Johanna are still close, she sees Burky all the time. She loves it there,” he explains. 

“That’s good, I’m-I’m happy for her,” Nate said hesistantly, forcing a tight lip smile while switching his gaze towards the movie. Gabe smiled half-heartedly as he lets out a dry chuckle. 

“That’s a load of bullshit, you wish she was miserable,” 

“That’s not true, I am happy that she is happy,”

“Oh come on, Nate, you know damn well you wish she was miserable like you are,” Gabe countered while throwing his hands to the side. 

“I am not miserable, look at the year I’m having,” Nate argued back as he shook his head. “If she’s happy, I’m happy,” he repeated with a forced smile before leaning back. Nate dropped his gaze towards his hand as he watched Maggie drop the ball in his lap again. Gabe clenched his jaw as he looked over Nate’s hesitant frame. “Did she ask about me?”

Gabe smirked as he chuckled, “She asked if you thought it would be weird if she went to the game tomorrow,” Gabe met Nate’s eyes and his mouth fell open and he shook his head.

“Not weird,” he mumbled as he kept eye contact with Gabe, “It wouldn’t be weird at all.”

“Okay, good because she’s coming tomorrow, hanging in the suite with us,”

“Even better,” Nate mumbled as he tossed the ball for Maggie. Gabe furrowed his eyebrows as he stared towards Nate suspiciously. 

“It doesn’t bother you one bit that the girl you’re probably supposed to be engaged to right now is staying at an AirBnB two streets over,” Gabe said as he paused the movie on the screen. Nate shrugged.

“What do you want me to say, Gabe?” Nate said as he clenched his jaw, “I had a ring ready but I made her wait too long and she left. What do you want me to do?” ~~~

Every morning, she’d go to the coffee shop on the same street her old apartment was on. She wanted to avoid Nate but it was inevitable that she was going to see him after the game tonight. Which Gabe convinced her to go to. 

She walked up to the counter and Jeremiah was standing behind it with a wide grin, “Oh my god, Y/N! It's been so long! How have you been?” he said excitedly as he pulled out the large plastic cup and began writing the details of her usual drink on the cup. She returned the kind smile as she handed him her card.

“I’ve been good, I live in Seattle now,” she replied as she added fifteen dollars as a tip to her drink. His eyes widened as he smiled. There was no one waiting behind them so he pried some more information out of her.

“What happened to Nate?” he asked in a hushed voice, leaning closer to her. She let out a dry chuckle.

“We broke up, but I’m back in Denver visiting a few friends and my favorite places,” she offered as she met Jeremiah’s gaze. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open.

“You’re kidding!? You guys were soulmates, I’m sure,” he let out as he was handed back her coffee order. She took a hold of it, sipping it. Seattle had some amazing coffee but nothing was like her coffee shop directly across from her apartment. She’d spend many hours in the coffee shop working on her writing. 

“Even soulmates don’t end up together sometimes,” she offered him a sad smile before she took a deep breath, “Seattle has nothing on your lattes Jeremiah,” she mumbled.

“You know, he still comes in before every home game. Tips fifteen dollars like you, but never smiles. He stopped smiling just around the time you stopped coming in. I knew it had to do with you,” he explained. She pressed her lips together as she tilted her head to the side. 

“He only gets a two dollar coffee,” she let out with a dry chuckle. She glanced towards her watch. It was three hours before puck drop, Nate would be stopping by to get his coffee any minute. Jeremiah glanced towards his watch before glancing towards the door. “Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow Jeremiah,” she mumbled as she began walking out of the coffee shop.

She shoved the door open and turned left to walk back towards the AirBnB. She glanced towards her watch before she lifted her gaze to see Nate standing dead in his tracks. She stopped walking as she met his gaze. His blue eyes were bright, even from a distance.

His nose was more crooked than before, she remembered the game he face planted against the panthers that messed up his jaw and his nose. He was wearing a navy suit, one of his many suits that pratically look identical. But if you’d ask him, he’d say they were a slightly different shade of blue.

He took a few steps towards her as he dropped his gaze towards the concrete. He admired the black leather pants she was wearing with her grey sweater with the words Avalanche written across it. Her lips curled upward once she met his gaze, it was almost a reflex. It was so natural.

He was only a foot away from her, maintaining eye contact with her as he had so many words on his tongue. Marry me? I love you. I need you. I haven’t been the same without you.

She kept staring at his nose, it was already crooked but it was much worse than before. “Your nose,” she let out, reaching her hand towards him, but she quickly dropped her hand to her side. His eyebrows raised as a smile formed to his lips. A real smile. 

“Is it that bad?” he asked, scrunching his nose slightly when he asked. “Didn’t think it looked that bad,” he mumbled, raising his hand up touching it.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, concern still written all over her features. He shook his head as he scanned her features. “Can you even breathe with that, Nathan?” she asked, a small smile forming on her lips. His cheeks flushed red at the sound of his name falling from her lips. She rarely called him Nathan, or Nate for that matter, so when she did say his name it felt extra special. She also only called him that when she was being serious or flirtatious. 

“I can breathe fine, my-” he cleared his throat, “I use a breathing strip sometimes, but I’m fine. No nose job needed, unless you think it’s too crooked now,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb across the bridge of his nose. 

“Not too crooked, it fits you,” she mumbled as she scanned his features. He chuckled nervously as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Seeing him felt like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

“How’s Seattle?” he choked out. Her smile faltered slightly as she took a deep breath.

“It’s great, but I do miss home,” she said as she tilted her head to the side, meeting his light blue desperate gaze. 

His breath caught in his throat as he glanced towards the coffee shop behind her. He clenched his jaw as he dropped his head. “What if you stopped by after the game? Maggie would love to see you,” he offered, meeting her gaze. 

She wished she would’ve contemplated a little longer but the words, “Yeah, of course, I’ve missed her a lot,” came out of her mouth before she could come up with an excuse. In all honesty she probably didn’t have any excuse. He smiled widely.

“Okay, I’ve got to go before I’m-”

“Off schedule, I know, I’ll see you later,” she muttered as he kept eye contact with her for a few seconds before he walked past her towards the coffee shop. Her heart fluttered like it did every day for a better half of a decade. She missed the feeling in her chest when was around.

He was her soulmate and she knew that but she was so tired of waiting around. She needed to step away. But here he was, the same person she fell in love with. Was it all worth it?

~~~

She was sitting in the suite beside Gabe as he was holding his son in his lap. The first period was underway and it was a lot of back and forth. Gabe bumped into her shoulder, “Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded as she watched Nate skate towards the penalty box. She lifted her gaze towards the jumbotron to see the penalty. She rolled her eyes as she turned her gaze to look at Gabe. “You’re like extra quiet,” 

“Don’t have anything to talk about,” she countered, fighting the smile forming on her lips.

“Uh-huh, you’re smiling,” he muttered.

“I’m a smiley person,” she countered as she looked back towards the ice. She watched the penalty kill work.

“You haven’t been smiley in a while,” he observed as he looked back towards the ice watching twenty-nine skate back onto the ice. He smirked, “Did a certain someone help with that?” he teased.

“I saw him earlier when I stopped at my old coffee shop,” she muttered. 

Gabe started laughing excitedly, “I knew it!”

The game ended in a disappointing shootout loss and the loss of his home game point streak. She waited outside of the locker room like she had done for their entire relationship. He walked out first, wanting to avoid the media frenzy. He smiled widely as he walked towards her. Making sure to keep his hands to himself.

“I’m sorry about the point streak,” she let out as she tilted her head to the side. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Stupid technicality, nothing to worry about,” he mumbled still with a wide smile. “Come on, Maggie is dying to see you,” he said as he guided her towards his car through the parking garage. 

“You got out pretty fast,” she observed as she glanced towards the locker room to see a few of the other guys leaving. He nodded as he ran his hand across his chin. 

“Was avoiding the questions about the home point streak. Honestly, kinda glad it’s off my plate,” he expressed. 

“I’m sure it was a lot of pressure,” she mumbled as he stopped in front of his car to open the passenger door for her. Like he used to do every time they would drive together. She smiled towards him as she climbed into his car. It smelled the same of black ice car scent he’s had since he first ever bought a car.

He jogged to the other side of the car and quickly collapsed in the driver seat. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he let out as he met her gaze, he gave her an over the top wink before he turned the car on. “Mikko totally put it in the net though,” he mumbled as he started backing out of his parking spot. She chuckled.

“Gabe thought so too,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side as she looked out of the window as they pulled out onto the streets of Denver. 

“When do you go back to Seattle?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze at the red light. She clenched her jaw as she scanned his features, the cut on his lip got worse after this game. 

“In two weeks,” she mumbled barely above a whisper. He nodded as he began driving back towards his apartment.

They remained in comfortable yet awkward silence. There were so many words she wanted to say to him, and he had so many words to say to her. After twenty minutes they walked up towards her old apartment. It was like deja vu as he pushed the door open and Maggie ran towards the door. She began to squeal and jump up on Y/N.

She laughed excitedly as she leaned down and let Maggie jump all over her. She got teary eyed as guilt consumed her. “I know, Maggie girl,” she mumbled as she glanced towards Nate who was smiling widely. 

After a few minutes, Maggie calmed down and wandered away from the pair. She turned her gaze towards Nate. His eyebrows furrowed harshly as he reached his hand over to her and rested it onto her cheek. It was a reflex, “Hey, hey, hey,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he ran his thumb across her cheek. She shook her head as she pulled away from him.

“This was a mistake, I’m sorry, Nate. I should go-” she let out as she began walking towards the door. He shook his head as he reached his hand towards her again resting his hand on her waist. She squinted her eyes hard as tears fell onto her cheek.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled as he pulled her towards him, she didn’t pull away as she rested her hand onto his chest. “Don’t leave,” he let out again as he looked deeply into her eyes. She had a small smile on her lips as she continued reading his light blue eyes. “Don’t leave,” he let out again, barely audible, before he leaned towards her and kissed her urgently. She gripped his suit jacket tightly as she returned the kiss. 

He pulled away as he took a deep breath, breathing in her vanilla perfume. “How’d I manage to not kiss those lips for a year,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips against hers again. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she pressed her body against his. She needed to be close to him, and nothing seemed to be close enough. 

She tugged his suit jacket from his body as she stumbled backwards towards the hallway that leads towards their, his, bedroom. “Wait,” he mumbled as he pulled away. She leaned towards him and kissed him again. He chuckled as he pulled away again, “I need to ask you-” he trailed off as he clenched his jaw, still panting hard as he kept his hands on her waist.

He swallowed hard before he took a sharp breath, “Did I do something to make you end things? I know I waited too long, I know I fucked up with that. I shouldn’t have-I just need to know if that’s actually the reason,” he muttered as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

She scanned his features, “You didn’t do anything,” she mumbled. He clenched his jaw as he nodded. He licked his lips before he pulled away from her, “Nate,” she muttered.

“Wait there,” he mumbled as he walked towards his bedroom. He clenched his jaw as he dug through his drawer next to his bed and pulled out the ring box. He walked confidently towards where she was waiting in the living room, still teary eyed. He opened the ring box and showed the ring inside the box. 

Her eyes widened as she gasped, “Nathan,” she mumbled. 

“I had the ring for months, I just thought that when I asked it didn’t matter. I didn’t realize how much it actually mattered to you and-and I should’ve realized it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he explained, waving the box dramatically in his hands. “I wanted to ask you, of course I wanted to ask you,” he let out as he took another step towards her. 

She met his gaze as she took short small breaths. “Nate,”

“Still do,” he let out as he scanned her features. She fought the small smile on her lips as tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I wanted to. I’ve spent every day since you left regretting I didn’t get the chance to ask,” he muttered. 

“Ask me,” she let out, her voice breaking. His eyes widened.

“What?” he asked barely above a whisper.

“Ask me,” she let out as she nodded her head. He smiled as he kneeled down onto one knee without an ounce of hesitation.

“Will you marry me?” he asked. 

“Of course, Nate, oh my god,” she muttered as he stood up from his kneeling position as she jumped into his arms and kissed him urgently. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he guided her towards their bedroom. She pulled away, resting her forehead against his, “It wasn’t just the ring, Nate,” she mumbled before she kissed him again, “I was worried you were bored with me that’s why you didn’t want to ask,” she let out as she ran her fingers through the short ends of his hair. 

He shook his head slightly, “I love you, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t show it. But I’m going to do better, alright?” he reassured as he shoved open the door as he guided her towards the bed they once shared. She nodded as she hummed.

“I’ll do better too, I love you so much,” she mumbled as she pressed her lips hard against his as he slowly laid her down onto her back. He pulled away as he admired her features.

“Let me remind you how much I love you,” he whispered as he started to kiss her neck slowly.

[marmolita]

wait and see by marmolita

cover art by @crosbyism​

Words: 30,458 Fandom: Men's Hockey RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Nathan MacKinnon Characters: Sidney Crosby, Nathan MacKinnon, Kris Letang, Marc-Andre Fleury, Gabriel Landeskog, Erik Johnson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Age Difference, Friends to Lovers, Dom/sub, Slow Burn, Obedience, Collars, diet and exercise control, but not in a bad way, this is the least kinky bdsm au I've ever written, Non-Sexual Kink 

"You know how every summer you joke about how I should collar you, for the league rule?"

"Yeah?"

Sid shoots a sideways look at Nate, but Nate is just sipping his beer, not looking back. "What if I took you up on that?"

Read it on AO3!