#andre burakovsky imagine

[bqstqnbruin]

They Shoot Websters, Don't They?

Hi! It's me with another fic to wreck you (but there's hope in this one I promise).

This is for @antoineroussel's winter fic exchange! I had the honor of writing for the lovely @laurenairay! Thanks to my girls @assmanselke @matthewtkachuk @kat-hearts, @raysofcrosby and Demi again for reading and editing this and threatening me to write a happy ending which I still didn't really listen to but here we are.

The title and the end of this are inspired by the Season 3 episode of Gilmore Girls titled "They Shoot Gilmores, Don't They," so iykyk

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, Asshole boyfriend

WC: 5390

“It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re sitting by yourself on the couch, doing nothing but eating a bowl of chips like a pack mule,” Noel hears through her speakerphone and scoffs at the accusation. 

“That’s mean.”

“Am I wrong?”

Noel hesitates. “No,” she says, begrudgingly, putting the bowl of chips down in front of her as if Andre can see her. “What point are you trying to make?” 

“Let me pick you up. You can spend the day with me instead of on the couch by yourself.”

She hesitates again. There’s no reason why she should be disrupting her quiet day in the warmth of her apartment and the coziness of the blankets. Her favorite tea is sitting next to her in her favorite mug, she was getting ready to pull up her favorite movie to play in the background, and a stack of books on the side table calling her name as they had been since she got off work the night before. “I don’t want to get up.”

“I’m coming over anyway.” 

“Hey, no,” she protests.

“I’m turning on your street right now; I’ll see you in less than two minutes.” 

She tries to argue back before he inevitably hangs up without letting her get in another word and contemplates putting the chain on the door so that he can’t get in without her physically letting him in. But that means she will have to get up from the comforts of her blanket and the couch and actually put the chain on the door. Is stopping him from coming in really worth moving? 

What’s the harm in spending a day with her best friend? She can’t be with her family because they’re on the other side of the country, she isn’t extremely close with her work friends to have one of them invite her over, and Andre isn’t with his family either. He’s her best friend. That’s it. Any boyfriend she’s ever had never had as much stuff left behind in her place as Andre did. 

They know each other better than they know anyone else. Andre has multiple sets of clothing left behind in her apartment, and she has the same at his. He has overnight stuff stashed away for all the nights he spends with her after road trips or when he needs to get away from the guys, and she has stuff at his place for the same reason. He knows where everything is  in her kitchen to just start making food for them whenever he wants, and she does the same at his place. He has a copy of her favorite books and movies stashed away somewhere for her in his bedroom, and he has the same thing in her place. 

“Webster, you look pathetic,” Andre says, bursting through the door, Noel regretting giving him a spare key, breaking her out of her spiraling about their relationship.

“That key is supposed to be for emergencies, you know,” she fires back, making a face at the use of her last name. 

“Based on your current state, this is clearly an emergency,” Andre tells her, flopping down on the couch and attempting to unwrap her. “Hey, don’t hit!” 

Noel grumbles, doing her best to attempt to rip the blankets back from him. There’s no need for him to be doing this. She was perfectly fine sitting on her couch. “Stop it,” she tells him, trying her best to get away from him. “You’re being mean.” 

The two of them continue to fight with the blankets, Andre ending up with the entire thing behind him, Noel trying her best to reach for them. He puts them behind him, laying down so that they are under his back. Without thinking, Noel’s legs and one arm were on one side of his body, practically laying on top of him while she tries to get the blanket. She feels herself wobbling, Andre’s free hand shooting up to steady her, wrapping it around her and landing on the small of her back. The two of them stop for a minute, both of them breathing heavier than normal from their stupid struggle. Noel swears she sees Andre’s eyes flick between her own and her lips, their heads moving closer and closer ever so slightly. He wants to kiss her, more than she realizes. The moment ends when Noel launches herself back to her corner, clearing her throat and trying to act like nothing has happened. 

“So what does your Christmas Eve look like, then?” she asks him, breaking the silence. 

“Well, when I was younger, we would go sledding, but there’s no snow for that right now, so that’s out of the question. I would make cookies with my family, and eventually, we would bring them around to our friends.”

“That takes up a whole day?” 

“A couple of hours, yeah.”

“Andre,” Noel whines.

  “Come on, we can make cookies, watch your Christmas movies, drink the tea you love out of the mug you love, I will even read you the books you have right there while we’re baking if you want.” Andre turns to her, taking her hands in his. “Please, Noel?”

She rolls her eyes at the goofy grin covering his face, the puppy dog eyes that he flashes at her making her unable to say no to him. “Fine. What are we starting with?”

Andre jumps off the couch, his hand still in hers as he drags her to the kitchen. “We can make all the cookies I made with my grandmother growing up, and any you have that you want to make.” He starts to look through her cabinets, trying to find anything that would resemble the ingredients of a cookie and laying them out on the counter. “You only have flour and sugar. You don’t even have eggs. Or milk?”

Noel shrugs, knowing that she has nothing. “I was going to wait out the Christmas chaos and go shopping after the holiday. I have enough to survive, why get more?” 

“We’re going,” he tells her, pulling out his phone to see what is still open and for how long. “The market a block over is open until 5, so we have plenty of time to get everything we need.”

“That’s mean to go on Christmas Eve,” Noel tries to protest as Andre starts throwing her coat and hat at her. 

“Come on, Webster,” he pleads, calling her by her last name even though he knows she hates it, “We’re going to be in and out. We can even bring the store owner cookies as a thank you if they’re still open when we’re done.” She starts putting on her stuff, not wanting to go outside on the day she’s supposed to stay tucked in. He is just lucky that the stuff she wears around the apartment is something she would go out in on a normal day, too. “Don’t be a Grinch.” 

“I’m literally named after Christmas. I can’t be a Grinch by default.”

Andre grins at her, taking her hand in his and dragging her out of her apartment. “This’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Andre starts rattling off recipe after recipe, ingredient after ingredient for what is sounding like a plethora of cookies that Noel knows she doesn’t have enough utensils, bowls, and cookie sheets for.

“How many types of cookies do you normally make on Christmas Eve?” she asks, scared for the answer.

“Swedish tradition is seven.” 

“Seven?” Noel nearly screams. She can’t even think of seven cookie flavors she likes, let alone seven flavors she can make. “Why seven?”

Andre shrugs, opening the door to the market, suddenly overly conscious that he is still holding Noel’s hand. “Less made you look stingy, more made you look like a show off.” 

“I kind of like that.” Noel grabs a basket, trying to keep up with everything that Andre was absent-mindedly throwing at her. 

“What kind of cookies did you make when you were growing up?”

“Never had any. Christmas isn’t really a big thing for us. I didn’t really ever celebrate it until I moved out here and met…” Noel starts, trailing off as Andre puts more and more in the basket she’s holding. 

“Met Myles,” Andre finishes her sentence for her. He turns his back to her, pretending to look at the different raspberry jams in front of him, swallowing hard at the thought of Noel’s boyfriend. “What’s he doing tonight?”

“He’s been with his family at their ski house since Sunday. I told him not to wait for me since I had to work yesterday, and that I would see him for the New Year.” 

“Even more of a reason to be together tonight, then,” Andre chokes out. “We can’t be with our families, we might as well be with our friends instead.” 

They finish up at the store, Andre talking a mile a minute about the cookies he wants the two of them to make. They aren’t going to make seven, only the three that Andre knows how to make without looking up the recipes: hallongrottor, schackrutor, and nötkakor. Noel has no idea half of the things he is saying as they walk back, both of them with arms full of bags. She isn’t even sure what he’s talking about is even baking related by the time they get back to her apartment. 

“Oh, so you get started on the chess board cookie dough, I’ll do the thumbprints.”

Noel nods and measures and mixes as Andre tells her what to do. It’s soothing, making vanilla and chocolate dough. While she’s mixing, she looks over at Andre, who’s already shaping his cookies. She smiles while she watches him, the intensity that he has on his face as he focuses on making perfect circles, indenting the center just enough so they can hold the raspberry jam he picked out earlier without breaking from the weight of how much jam he plans on putting on the center. 

He has flour on his forehead, right above his eyebrow. Noel wants to go over to him and wipe it off. But that would be weird, wouldn’t it? There’s no reason to do that. She can just tell him that it’s there. Or just help him and get it off, because there’s nothing to make it weird. 

He can feel her staring at him, a smirk on his face forming when he tries to catch her eyes. Every time he looks at her, she looks away, Andre knowing that she felt heat rising to her cheeks as she pretended to focus on the dough in front of her. “Let me know when you need help rolling the dough out,” he tells her.

“Check what I have.” He walks over to her, the two balls of dough looking pretty good in front of her, ready to roll out. 

“You have to keep it so it’s about two centimeters thick,” he says, dusting the counter with flour, hearing her scoff. “What?”

“Centimeters,” she teases, knowing it will irritate him. 

“I get it, you’re American. You use inches. You want it a little less than an inch thick. Happy?” he asks her, throwing a little bit of the flour in her face.

“Oh, come on,” she replies, taking some of the flour and throwing it back at him.

The two of them start a small food fight, getting flour everywhere, covering every inch of themselves rather than the counter they are supposed to cover. The flour gets on the floor, Noel’s cabinets, all over their clothes and stuck in their hair. In her socks, Noel slips on the flour that has accumulated on the floor; Andre catches her just before she falls. 

His arms are wrapped around her as tight as he has allowed them to go, trying to process the feeling of her in his arms, finally holding her despite the fact that it isn’t something he’s able to do freely.

“Are you ok?” he whispers, his voice low. He can feel himself getting nervous, his heart racing, convincing himself that she can feel it beating against her. 

Noel nods before she can find the words. “Um, yeah,” she stammers, “Thanks.” 

Andre lets go of her before he does anything else, taking a moment to look around at the mess they made in that short amount of time. “Should we keep going with the cookies, or clean first?” 

“Cookies, then clean.” 

He nods, following her back to the counter to help her roll out the dough. “You don’t want to put too much pressure on the dough.”

Noel nods again, feeling Andre getting closer to her as she starts to follow his directions again. She grips the rolling pin so tight her knuckles start to turn white, subconsciously letting out her frustration over the two missed moments on the dough. 

“Not quite like that,” he says, coming up next to her. He rests his hands on hers, his one arm stretched across her chest as he tries to show her what he means. “Loosen up a little bit.” 

He holds her hands in his, guiding the rolling pin over the dough as gently as he can. “Like this,” he says, turning his head to face her. Noel stares at the dough, trying her best to not look at him. He studies her, the way the lock of hair tucked behind her ear curls at the ends, the way she’s clenched her jaw, the feeling of her hands relaxing with his around them.

Noel swallows hard, the feeling of his arm relaxing ever so slightly against her making her heart race. Myles. She needs to think of Myles. But she could just lean in. 

Noel’s phone buzzes, nearly vibrating itself off the counter. Both of them jump apart. “It’s Myles.” 

“Go on, I’ll finish these.” Noel leaves the room, her flirty ‘hello’ ringing in Andre’s ears as he tries to not listen to her talk to her boyfriend. He takes out his own phone, pulling up the group chat with some of his teammates.

Jesus Christ, he texts, starting to type another message immediately.

You rang? Phillip replies immediately. 

Stop that, he responds, rolling his eyes at his teammate. I’m with Noel.

And? Larsson asks. 

I swear we almost kissed three times already.

Here we go, Alexander says.

Not this again, comes from Larsson at the same time, Andre practically able to hear the groans from his friends. 

Anyway, Andre types again, Myles left her to go ski, she was all alone.

And you had to be the one to spend time with her? Phillip asks. 

He knows his teammates are over his pining over her, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to get their help in the slightest. She’s my best friend...

Before he can read their responses, Noel comes back into the kitchen. Andre’s unable to read her expression. “What’s up?”

Noel shrugs, not making eye contact with him. “He just wanted to call and say, ‘hi.’ I asked how the slopes were, he said they were fine. He asked what I was doing, I said I was with you,” she tells him, trailing off.

“And?” he asks, hoping she’s finished her sentence. He can already tell what she’s about to say. It’s the same thing that Myles says to her every time Andre’s name comes up in conversation. It’s the same thing that Noel has come to him for multiple times during her relationship with Myles.

Noel shakes her head, forcing out a short laugh. “Same shit, different day. He’s not happy that I’m spending time with you ‘unsupervised.’” 

Andre hates this conversation. “Jesus,” he breathes out. The two of them stand there in silence for a minute, both of them going back to their cookies and Noel not noticing the complete lack of progress Andre made in her absence. “Should I leave? Would that make things better?”

“What?” she shrieks, causing Andre to drop the cookie he was shaping back on the counter. “No. Do you want to?”

“I don’t want to. Do you want me to?”

“God, no,” she lets out, probably a little too fast. “No, Myles is just being annoying. He knows what our relationship is. He knows that we’re...”

“Friends,” Andre finishes for her.

“Best friends.” They fall back into silence, Andre getting the oven heated up so that they can start baking the plethora of cookies that they had made. Noel can remember the last time she saw this many cookies in front of her, let alone the last time she had helped make this many cookies. “We should take a picture of this.”

Andre looks up at her, “Of the cookies?”

“Yeah,” she starts, pulling out her phone and bringing up the camera. “Of us and the cookies.” 

She hands Andre her phone, standing closer to him as he positions the camera, her holding up one of the baking sheets. They can’t help but laugh, forgetting they were still covered in flour from earlier. Andre pulls her closer, wrapping his free arm around her as she tilts her head toward his chest. The two of them smile, unable to stop as they look at their current state. Noel doesn’t hesitate to post it, no caption, putting a heart and tagging Andre. It’ll make Myles furious to see that post. 

Good. 

“So,” Andre starts, looking at the notification from Noel and seeing the heart next to his name. It meant nothing. It’s a platonic heart, he tries to tell himself. “Some of the guys are getting together tonight.”

“Don’t you guys spend enough time together already?” Noel jokes, tossing him a towel to start washing off the flour. 

“Well, yeah, but not all of us have other family around to spend the holidays with. So, we’re spending it together.” 

“Whose house are you going to?”

“Eberle’s.” 

Noel laughs. “Lauren must love hosting that.” Her phone starts buzzing, texts and notifications from Myles flooding her phone. “So, what time do you have to be there tonight?”

“Ebs said we can head over whenever.’

Noel stops trying to get the flour out of her hair. “We?”

“Oh, come on, you thought I would leave you alone for the guys?” 

Noel can feel her heart racing at his words. Myles had no hesitation leaving her for the ski house, not even putting up a fight when she said that he should go without her. Is it unfair for her to expect that of him? No, she tells herself. Myles is her boyfriend. Shouldn’t he want to spend Christmas with her when he knows her family never had the means to get all together for the holiday and that she was yet again going to be alone? 

Andre’s acting the way that Myles should have been acting for her, or at least the way she’s always wanted Myles to act.

“What do we wear?”

“Something nicer than the flour-stained joggers you have right now. You go clean up, I can pick something out for you,” he tells her, shooing her out of the kitchen. He takes a tray of cookies out of the oven; they’re baked just like he always made them with his grandmother when he was younger. He grabs a few for Noel on one of her plates before heading into her room to find her something to wear. 

The cookies finish baking, Andre finally cleans himself up and changes into a set of clothes he had left behind after one of his games, Noel is nice enough to wash his stuff with hers. He plops himself on the couch, scrolling through the texts from his teammates asking where he was. 

Her story??? Comes from Alexander.

You too look like more than friends at least, is from Phillip.

So she’s coming tonight? From Adam. 

He keeps scrolling, seeing the teasing from the guys, rolling his eyes at every comment that asks why he is hanging out with a girl he likes when he knows she has a boyfriend. He can’t help it. Even if he likes her, has whatever feeling he does for her, she’s still his best friend. His wanting more than that doesn’t change that. He won’t let it change that. 

Andre starts to type out a reply to tell them that he’ll be on his way soon, that he’s just waiting for Noel when she appears in front of him. He takes in a sharp breath; he definitely picked the right outfit for her, the sweater and jeans so simple yet they look amazing on her. Everything she wore was amazing on her, though.

“You look–” he says, searching for the right word to say to her. “Wow.” 

“Wow, yourself. At least you clean up well,” she laughs, clearly mocking his inability to talk. “You ready?” 

Andre gets up from the couch, unable to take his eyes off Noel as she moves through her apartment. He barely registers her complaints about finishing the cookies so late, breaking his promise to her from earlier that they would drop some off at the market.

He wants to reach out and take her hand, walk her to the car. He wants to press her against the door as she reaches for the handle and kiss her right there. He wishes he could do that disgustingly cute thing while he’s driving where he rests his hand on her thigh, her hand resting on top while they drive to his teammate’s house. 

He wishes she wasn’t with Myles. 

The two ride without talking to each other, the only sound in the car coming from the Christmas music playing on the radio while they drive to the Eberle’s house. Noel’s phone keeps buzzing; Andre watches her type furiously out of the corner of his eye. It has to be Myles texting her. There’s no one else who would spend so much time texting her like this, causing the sour look on her face.

“Everything ok?” he asks her when they finally pull up near his teammate’s house.

“Myles is being a dick,” she mumbles, locking her phone and practically throwing it in her purse. She doesn’t wait for him to say anything else before starting on a rant. “He’s telling me that if I was planning on going out on Christmas Eve, then I should have met his family at their ski house. That by spending the day with you instead I’m being a bad girlfriend, when he didn’t even fucking invite me up to the house in the first place. The only reason he invited me is because I told him I was spending the day with you. That you came over because you were also alone, that we made cookies because it was something you did when you were younger, that we were going to your teammate’s house because it was something you were doing anyway and the guys invited me.” 

“You didn’t have to come out tonight,” he starts, feeling anger bubble up inside him.

“No, it’s not that,” Noel starts before he can say anything else. “It’s that he’s getting mad at me for being with you. He had no issue with me spending Christmas by myself. He was fine with me sitting on the couch the entire weekend. It wasn’t until I told him I was with you that he started to act like that. It’s always when I’m with you that he starts to act like this.” 

“Noel,” Andre whispers, trying to figure out what to say. “Why are you still with him?”

She looks down at her lap, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She shrugs, knowing that whatever she could tell him won’t be enough for him to believe her. She isn’t sure that anything she’s about to say is actually going to be true, anyway. “I love him. I loved him.”

They sit in silence for a moment, both of them trying to process what she just said. Andre wishes he could just reach over the center console and kiss her, hug her, do anything to stop the tears he was watching roll down her cheeks. Noel just wants to go inside and forget the entire conversation with her boyfriend happened, forget for a night that she has a boyfriend, and just spend it with her best friend instead. 

“Let’s go in, Webster. I’m sure there’s something in there that will be better than this.” Andre gets out of the car, rushing around to the passenger side to give Noel his arm and walk her in. “You’re going to be fine. Whatever happens is going to happen for a reason.”

“You sound like a bad fortune cookie, you know that?”

They let out a laugh, letting themselves into the house to be welcomed by the screams of Andre’s teammates and their families. Some of his teammates look way too drunk for their own good, Andre already getting excited at the prospect of the embarrassing stories to come out of tonight. Noel can feel her heart melting at the cuteness of the children running around and playing, some of them with mini hockey sticks while others had random toys.

Andre takes Noel’s hand and leads her through the house, looking for drinks. If there’s one thing Noel needs tonight, it’s alcohol. She wants to forget Myles’s anger from earlier for just a little while, pretend that the moments she had with Andre weren’t messing with her and making her want to break up with him more than normal. She was spending the day with her best friend.

The two of them wander around the party, Noel downing her first drink much faster than she should have. But that’s fine, she tells herself, because it’s already helping her take her mind off of Myles. He didn’t matter if he was going to tell her who she could hang out with. He had no care in the world about her being alone, so why is he all of a sudden mad that she was with Andre? 

She looks at Andre while he’s talking to Phillip and Alexander, his other teammates milling around them in their own worlds. There’s no denying that he’s attractive, that she’s attracted to him. How could she not be? He’s gentle and sweet to her, they know everything about each other, good, bad, and otherwise, and they still want to spend all of their free time with each other. She sees spending time with Myles as a chore, but spending time with Andre is something she wants to do all the time. She thinks about the last real date Myles took her on, how she kept checking her phone when he wasn’t looking to see what Andre had texted her, how his game was going, what the guys were doing. 

He’s just her best friend. Right?

The group of them start drifting through the house together, Andre’s teammates leading them in what seems like an odd path until they stop suddenly. The two of them exchange looks, Noel rolling her eyes at his teammates’ antics. They’re up to something, she just doesn’t know what. 

“Hey, you two,” Phillip says, finally pulling Noel into the conversation that had been happening in front of her the entire time. “Look up.” 

They do as they’re told, noticing that Andre’s teammates have led them to an entryway to the living room, where Jordan and Lauren have hung mistletoe. 

“Oh, come on,” Noel groans, a teasing smile on her face to hide the fact that her heart has started to race at the thought of finally being able to kiss Andre. If they do, it won’t mean anything. It’s just a stupid thing that people do when they’re caught under the mistletoe. 

“Guys, she has a boyfriend,” Andre starts to argue, his teammates not willing to listen.

“You’re both standing under it, you have to now,” Alexander says, an evil smirk on his face that makes Andre’s heart sink. He hates them at that moment. 

This isn’t how he wants to kiss Noel for the first time. It isn’t supposed to be in front of his teammates and their families. It isn’t supposed to be when she was dating Myles. He isn’t sure what it’s supposed to be, but at least he knows it shouldn’t be the situation at hand. 

Phillip and Alexander start chanting for the two of them to kiss, slowly bringing everyone else around them as well. He knows his face is bright red, feeling the heat in his ears as he looks at Noel with the most panicked expression he can give her. 

Noel lets out a laugh, hoping Andre isn’t able to pick up on her nerves. She leans towards him and whispers, “It’s no big deal. It’ll only last a second. It’s just a stupid tradition, right?”

“Right,” he says, not feeling any better. 

Andre bends down, Noel’s hand finding his shoulder. Andre ghosts her lips, trying to force himself to just kiss the girl he’s wanted more from since he met her.  

“Hey,” they hear, causing them to pull apart. Everyone around them falls silent, the chanting stopping, the kids not running around anymore. 

“Myles?” Noel asks the panic in her voice now clear. “What are you doing here?” 

“Looking for you,” Myles yells. In trying to forget everything about that day, Noel also forgot that she and Myles had shared their locations with each other when they first became official, meaning he could find her and she could find him whenever they needed.  “I came to get you, and I find him making a move on you.”

“It’s mistletoe, it doesn’t mean anything,” Andre says, moving in front of Noel. 

“It doesn’t mean anything?” Myles laughs. “You really think I don’t know what this is? You two are always together. Half the time I can’t even get a hold of Noel because she’s with you. Do you think I don’t see the way you talk to each other? I call you today and I find out that you’ve changed your entire day because you’re spending time with him?”

“We’re just friends,” Noel lets out, trying to process everything he was saying.

“I just pointed out that she has a boyfriend,” Andre tries, not knowing how that was going to help him in the slightest. “Not anymore, she doesn’t,” Myles says, storming off. Noel follows him, tears streaming down her face, trying to talk to him while he makes his way outside. “No, Noel. I’m sick of this. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. I don’t want to be with someone who hangs out with a person I hate. I don’t want to be with someone who is so obviously in love with someone else.” 

The two of them stand on the porch, having left the house before Myles continued to yell at her. She has no jacket on, the cold air adding to the numb feeling that is overtaking her. 

“I’m done, Noel.” 

He leaves without another word, Noel left to crumble on the porch step and watch him drive away. She can’t bring herself to cry, not feeling sad like she thought she would after a relationship ended in the way it just did. She wanted to break up with him, but she didn’t think it would be in front of a group of people, and she didn’t want it to be because of whatever feelings she has for Andre. 

“Hey,” she hears, Andre appearing beside her. “Are you ok?” She can’t bring herself to talk, just giving him a nod as he sits next to her. She can feel her heart racing as his thigh rests against hers. “He’s a jerk. Yelling at you like that in front of everyone?” 

“It’s not like he was wrong, though,” she sniffles. “Everything he said about you and me, about how we were in a relationship with someone we didn’t want to be with, about how we have feelings for each other. He was right. Wasn’t he?”

Andre opens his mouth, not wanting to outright admit it just yet. There has to be a better way to tell her. 

“Well, he was right about me, at least,” Noel tells him, feeling her heart break over his lack of answer. 

“No, he was right. About everything.” 

#shelb wouldn't let me post this until SHE READ IT FIRST #i have been waiting for an hour to post this #andre burakovsky imagine #andre burakovsky #seattle kraken #seattle kraken imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

[wyattjohnston]

dreamer (just like you) - andré burakovsky

summary: on midsommar, if you put seven flowers under your pillow while you sleep you're supposed to dream of the person going to marry (or; demi writes yet another summer friends-to-lovers fic)

word count: 2,334

note: set Midsommar 2021 on account of the Avs making it to the Finals this year. its just ticked over to the 25th here in Australia so have fun! thanks to @danglesnipecelly and @matthewtkachuk as always 💚

For a whole week the only thing on the forecast had been rain. Pathetic rain, too. The kind that’s just enough to make hair go frizzy but not enough to just wet it completely.

Nova didn’t want to think about any sort of symbolism associated with the sun coming out the hour André’s plane landed. Especially when the flight had been delayed by so long that the planets aligned just so he could arrive when there was a break in the clouds.

There was still uncertainty around whether he’d come visit her that day. His movements changed every year, dependent on a number of things that Nova had never figured out—sometimes he went straight to his parents and didn’t leave for 24 hours, other times he went straight to whichever house he’d booked for the summer. And then there were the times he had headed straight to her parents’ house right away.

No matter where he ended up, the sun would stay out the entire day, Nova was sure of it, and it would bring much hope for the people religiously watching the forecast for Midsommar.

Early the next morning, Nova was woken by her phone buzzing against her mattress. She reached for it, panicked that she’d forgotten about a meeting or that she was about to be told some horrible news because there was no other reason for somebody to be calling her before nine.

“Rise and shine!” André shouted, causing Nova to rip her phone from her ear and cringe away from it. “Entertain me!”

Nova managed to mumble out, “Find anyone else in Malmo to entertain you.”

“I’m walking over now. Get out of bed.”

Nova groaned but relented and hung up on him immediately so she could at least shower before she saw him. André had seen her in various less than presentable states, so she didn’t care if he saw her when she’d just woken up. She did care if anybody saw her after she’d gone three days without showering because she’d been trying to get through a job.

Her shower and skin care routine were much shorter than normal, though it was clear that her body appreciated any sort of attention it was getting. Even still, André was already sitting on her bed, having hastily and haphazardly folded the duvet at the end of the mattress, when she walked into the bedroom in her terrycloth robe.

“I don’t think this room has changed since high school,” he said, reaching out to the candle on her bedside table. He made a pleased sound as he smelt it.

“You can talk to my parents about that; I only come back for four weeks a year.”

“It’s like a shrine.”

Nova rolled her eyes and opened her chest of drawers. As she stared inside them, she said, “A shrine to the me they wanted and not the one they got.”

André hummed, nobody who knew Nova would disagree with that statement.

Nova dressed with him in the room, slipping her underwear on underneath her robe followed by a pair of shorts. She had no shame in removing the robe, then, and pulling a shirt on.

“Are you buying me breakfast?”

He smiled at her when she turned around, even as he huffed and made a big deal about always being the one to buy them anything when they went out.

The weather had, as Nova predicted, remained perfect for Midsommar.

Nova woke to sun breaking through her poorly shut curtains and the weather app said it would reach twenty degrees, so it was perfect.

They were headed to the Burakovsky’s property, like usual; everyone in Malmö was a creature of habit so plans rarely changed from year to year.

Nova put on a white dress that would undoubtedly become see-through as the day progressed and the kid found water guns, so she’d also put on her nude-coloured underwear because over the years she’d learnt that her white underwear would also go see-through.

Before doing anything else when they arrived, Nova and her mother made a beeline for the kitchen where she knew Pernilla was sure to be slaving away over food despite the fact that there was a well-organised spreadsheet of what everyone was supposed to bring—like everything else, it rarely changed.

“Älskling,” Pernilla said, sweeping the dish from Nova’s hands and all but pushing her out of the kitchen, “I’m nearly done here. Go out the back and I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“Promise?” Nova asked, her expression sceptical.

“Go.”

Nova was shooed out with no room allowed for an argument, especially when her own mother joined in the shooing.

André was nowhere to be found amongst the crowd gathered in the backyard, he was probably going to be late like he always was, so Nova made her way to a group of their friends from high school.

Yet another thing that hadn’t changed, was the realisation that Nova was the only one of her high school friends not married. Her friends in Stockholm didn’t result in the same thoughts running through her mind.

“This year will be the year, Nova,” Emilie said, her hand cradling her heavily pregnant stomach. Nova didn’t know whether it was intentional or habit. “We’ll get you married before the year is out.”

“Yeah? You’re going to magic a man out of thin air for me?”

“No need, the perfect catch has just walked in.”

Nova huffed, her mouth pursed, and she stared at Emilie for long enough to express her displeasure before she’d even turned around. When she did turn around, she wish she’d stared longer.

André Burakovsky had walked into the backyard, his head held high as he greeted everyone.

Nova lost her voice, no matter how much she wanted to snap back at Emilie, because all she could think about was André. He looked ridiculous with an unsuccessful beard, a SnapBack and being loud enough to command everyone’s attention.

He saw the group of them, threw his hands into the air and started shouting enthusiastically. Nova raised her hand in an almost imperceptible wave and then turned to glare at Emilie.

“What are we talking about over here?” André asked, his arm dropping over her shoulders with a casualness that felt all too familiar.

“Nothing,” Nova said hastily, though it didn’t matter.

“Before next summer we’re going to get Nova a husband,” Emilie answered.

“If you think Nova will marry someone she’s known less than twelve months, you don’t know her that well,” André said, rustling Nova gently. “Besides, she’s gotta get to America so she can marry Chris Evans.”

“Oh, shut up, André.”

“Okej, okej.”

He left, the weight of his arm lifting off her shoulders was not as comfortable as she’d expected, and she took a deep breath so she wouldn’t pull him back.

The conversation continued around her, still about her love life but the jokes about André ceased. Everyone was due for one joke about André at Nova’s expense before moving on and the conversation that followed was always about her life in general because she lived away from them all.

With the sun high in the sky and stomachs filled with home cooked meals, Nova joined the younger girls who had started the process of making flower crowns. They’d already done the hard work of gathering suitable flowers, had been searching for a day or two judging from the size of the pile, so Nova’s self-appointed job was to make sure they knew what they were doing.

“Want to make one for me?” André asked, sitting down on the ground beside Nova.

“You should learn this year,” Nova said, pushing a pile of flowers in front of him.

André rifled through the flowers, clearly having no idea what he was supposed to be looking for. Nova took pity on him almost immediately, picking up the wire. She pushed up onto her knees with the wire and a pair of scissors and moved closer to him.

She told him to stay still as she meticulously measured his head with the wire. There was nothing untoward about it, except that André’s warm breath was brushing across her clavicle despite her being beside him because she’d told him to hold still as he was facing her.

“They look so hard.”

“Hockey is hard. Flower crowns are not.”

As it turned out, flower crowns were harder for André than Nova expected, his fingers not quite nimble enough to put the stems where he wanted them and his patience not quite thick as once thought.

Noticing that he was very much struggling and that his frustration was resulting in a very painful looking tension in his face and shoulders, Nova held her flower crown out to him and gestured for him to hand his over.

“That bad?” he asked, a self-deprecating laugh escaping him.

“I don’t want to be here all day.”

He conceded without protest. She ignored the gentle brush of their fingers for her own sanity.

By the time the sun set, and the drinks were gone, people were getting ready to leave. Nova’s parents had long since left, so Emilie was driving Nova home. Emilie was also driving André home because he was staying so near and insisted he could walk from Nova’s.

He walked Nova to her front door, both wrong hands over their mouths to stifle their drunken laughter. Nova was swaying in the door frame, struggling with her keys, when André tapped her on the shoulder.

“For your pillow,” André said, holding out a small bouquet of flowers.

Nova wasn’t sure if it counted if the kids had picked the flowers instead of her, though she wasn’t particularly sure it mattered. She was all about Midsommar traditions, believing in the magical and spiritual properties they all contained; it was just getting exhausting following them so meticulously when they weren’t bringing her any benefit.

“Thank you, André.”

Barely an hour had passed between Nova waking up and André being in her parents’ house. It was amazing to her that, even after nearly a decade since they should have reasonably expected him to show up without notice, they seemed to just accept that he was there.

She could hear their chatter in the kitchen, could hear her father extending an invitation to join them on their walk and André’s polite decline.

He wouldn’t come in to wake her, Nova knew that, so she allowed herself some extra time to mull over yet another Midsommar dream featuring André Burakovsky.

Throughout the year Nova didn’t dream with any regularity and, if she did, it was never about anybody but herself. Whether she had forgotten an assignment, or if the brakes in her car had suddenly stopped working, there was no dream as consistent as the dream-life she’d built with Midsommar-Night's-Dream-André.

The coffee machine spluttered to life and Nova to it as her queue to get out of bed. She pulled on a shirt as she was walking out her door and mumbled a greeting to André when she reached the kitchen.

He smiled at her over his shoulder, though his attention hardly left the coffee machine until two cups were made and one was placed down onto the table where Nova was sitting.

“Who’d you dream about? Was it Chris Evans again?”

Nova laughed, coffee spluttering out of her mouth. She failed to catch it in her hand, so she was left staring up at André with scalding coffee down her chin and on her shirt.

“I’ve never dreamt about Chris Evans.”

The furrow of André’s brow was instant, and he asked, confused, “You’ve been lying to me?”

“I never told you it was him, you decided that.”

“Why haven’t you told me then?”

Nova shrugged, pulling one knee up to her chest so she could hug it comfortingly, “Because it always seemed so stupid, and there was no way it was ever actually going to happen.”

André, across from her, trailed his eyes over her bare leg, remaining silent for a long moment.

“You always tell everyone else how important it is.”

“I’ve been dreaming about you for half my life and that never seemed real. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

André stared at Nova. Nova stared back. Both were frozen in shock, neither expecting that to be what fell from her mouth. She planned both feet firmly on the kitchen tiles, grabbing her mostly full mug as she stood hastily.

“I’m going to have a shower.”

“Nova.”

“I won’t be long,” she said sweetly.

That was a lie. Nova went about her entire skincare routine, taking her time as she did it, as she thought over and over about how she would get out of her admission without going against the universally known truth that she took Midsommar dreams as gospel.

André was, perhaps unsurprisingly, sitting up against Nova’s headboard. He didn’t say a word as she dressed by shimmying underwear underneath her robe and then taking a sundress from her closet—it felt drastically different to be doing so with André in the room now that he knew how she felt.

“What if I told you I’ve been dreaming about you?” he said when she was standing at the end of the bed.

She scoffed, “You don’t even believe in it.”

“Not just last night, or on Midsommar, Nova,” he already sounded frustrated. “During the year, you’re just there whenever I go to sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“This isn’t going anywhere if you repeat my questions.”

He was amused at least, by her petulance, and the fiendish smile on her face made Nova crack her own.

“Would you move to America with me?”

“Probably,” she answered without hesitation. “Is that really the only reason you never said anything?”

“We’re friends, Nova, and that’s fine for me. If there’s a chance for me here, though, I want to take it.”

“Yeah? You’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

“I’ve got a lot of time to make up for?” he asked, incredulously, through laughter. “Not sure how this ended up being all my fault.”

“We’ve got time to make up,” she amended, then looked him right in the eye. “Are we going to start now?”

Please consider leaving feedback - reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

#hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #andre burakovsky imagine #andre burakovsky fic #fic: avs #one shot #homemade fic

[laurenairay]

For the birthday head cannons- Andre Burakovsky encouraging gf/wife who is struggling with body image or low self worth

Thank you for sending this one in - I absolutely have thoughts about this.

Andre seems like the kind of guy who pays attention to his SO - maybe it's because he's always looking for a little attention himself (in the best way!) but he's always picking up on the little things.

People might think he's a bit of a loveable idiot, but I think he's pretty emotionally aware. And this means he would notice things.

Like when his SO looks at the other WAGS with a frown on their face, or he catches them looking at the body with an upset expression in the mirror, or if he sees them refusing dessert or seconds when they're out to dinner.

I think he'd feel pretty bad about it all, that his SO feels that way - not necessarily for selfish reasons but because he feels like he's failing at making them see how beautiful he believes they are.

And maybe he tries talking about it in a boosting confidence way - maybe it works with the sweet compliments and body worship, but maybe it just makes them shut down.

So maybe he tries a different approach - he tries talking with them to get to the route of the 'problem' they think there is. Maybe they come to the conclusion that they want to exercise more for their own benefit. Maybe they want to try cutting out carbs once or twice a week to see if it works for them. Maybe they want to try a dozen different things - and Andre will absolutely support them, as long as they're doing it for themselves to be comfortable in their own body, not because of how other people see them.

I think he'd be pretty proactively supportive too. Maybe he joins the zumba class or goes running down the docks with them. Maybe he (begrudgingly) doesn't eat carbs - at least at home - for moral support.

Either way, this guy is going to show his love for his SO in whatever way he can, supporting them to the best of his ability, proving exactly how much they mean to him.

#lauren's birthday headcanons #andre burakovsky imagine #headcanon: supporting SO struggling with body image

[ilyasorokinn]

“Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.” With burky please

STUPID FREE AGENCY

this is trade themed. let's all cry together.

TAYLOR'S AVS NIGHT!

31. "look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said." (from this prompt list, angst)

"look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said," you demanded.

"i got traded to seattle." he repeated, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

you stared at him in shock, trying to find words, "traded?"

"yeah." he winced.

"stupid free agency," you muttered.

"yeah, stupid." he laughed, "you're taking this better than i thought you would."

"i'm about ten minutes away from having a full-on mental breakdown, so just you wait."

you decided to put off moving till the end of the off-season, so you went on vacation, visited family, and got to spend your day with the cup.

when you got back to the states, instead of going back to colorado, you went to seattle instead to tour apartments. it took you about two weeks to find the perfect apartment.

after successfully signing the lease, you flew back to colorado and began packing up all your stuff. it was bittersweet. you were leaving your home for the past 3 years.

the place was fully furnished so all of that was taken care of (because you were only going to be there during the season). you walked around the city and got a feel for it.

after spending the entire day exploring, you sat down to a nice dinner, and it finally settled in that you were moving here and this would be your life now.

"it's nice here." andre broke you out of your thoughts.

"yeah." you nodded, "but it won't ever be as nice as colorado."

"i know." he smiled sadly, "but it'll be fun. starting a new life here."

"always the optimist." you smiled.

"someone has to be." he joked.

"i'm very optimistic." you defended.

"right." he laughed.

#andre burakovsky imagine #andre burakovsky imagines #andre burakovsky x reader #andre burakovsky fic #andre burakovsky blurbs #andre burakovsky #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #hockey #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche blurbs #colorado avalanche #taylor writes #taylor writes: hockey #taylor's blurbs #taylor's prompt lists #taylor's avs night!

[izzylovesyou2022]

First Time Going To Sweden Thoughts~ Andre Burakovsky

-you hadn't seen him this excited in a while

-way too excited

-you were so confused when he tackled you on the couch

-"i'm taking you to sweden"

-you stare at him in shock

-"really?!!?"

-you kiss him hard on the lips and he kisses you right back

-48 hours later, you're in sweden

-he takes you to visit the hockey rink he first played at

-"i was about seven years old"

-you just absorb everything he tells you

-you visit a lot of forests and hockey rinks

-you can see by the smile on his face how happy he is to be back

-sweden really is a beautiful country

-your favorite thing to do while there is watch the stars at night

#andre burakovsky #andre burakovsky imagine #colorado avalanche imagine #seattle kraken #washington capital imagine #andre burakovsky thoughts #hockey thoughts #nhl thoughts

[sweettomyhoney]

Request box is open yall 🥰just tell me what you want I got you

#photography #william nylander imagine #william nylander #andre burakovsky imagine #auston matthews x reader #nhl smut #nhl imagines #nhl #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto #alexander nylander #alex nylander #washington capitals imagines #pittsburgh penguins #toronto maple leafs #morgan rielly #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews #colorado avalanche imagines #pierre luc dubois #hockey #being plus size #plus size

[overmygraves]

MAXINE'S MASTERLIST

requests: open

genres: smut, fluff, au, probably anything you ask

players i do and don't write for

click here for promp lists!

smut ♥ ║ fluff ✿ ║ angst ★ ║ platonic ✦

RYAN GRAVES Homesick Blues ✿

MATHEW BARZAL I Did It For You ★ ✿

PLAYERxPLAYER Swedish Win (Andre Burakovsky and Gabriel Landeskog) ✦

#masterlist #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl #hockey #ryan graves #ryan graves imagine #mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #andre burakovsky #andre burakovsky imagine #gabriel landeskog

[tencrushesperday]

hey bestiessss i need hockey fan friends to talk to bc my non hockey fan friends are going to block me in the next 5 seconds if i don’t stop harassing them about how cute cale makar is

so let’s be friends i promise i’m nice

#nhl #nhl hockey #hockey boys #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl canes #canes #carolina hurricanes #martin necas #new jersey devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes #cale makar #andrei svechnikov #andre burakovsky #colorado avalanche #nhl avs #sebastian aho #trevor zegras

[mattsboldyy]

ANDRE? TO SEATTLE? WHAT

#andre burakovsky #colorado avalanche #seattle kraken imagine #nhl #hockey

[equallyshaw]

with so much free time these next two weeks..that means i finally get to finish the sour series omg ... those that are tagged are the ones i have next to finish :)

Here is what currently finished: Masterlist

#sour hockey imagines #tyson jost #jt compher #mat barzal #andre burakovsky #William nylander

[bqstqnbruin]

Seattle Kraken

Main Masterlist

If the links don’t work, please let me know!

Andre Burakovsky

Blurbs:

I think I’m in love with you

You’re washing the dishes but Andre is handsy

You’re in charge of the cupcakes for your friends wedding shower when Andre drops the M word

Your sink is busted so Andre comes to fix it

You’re out on a date when you fall for someone else

Fics

They shoot Webster’s, don’t they?

Vince Dunn 

NOTE: I do not write for this player any more but haven't had the motivation to rewrite all of these.

Fics:

8 Letters

Blurbs:

Vince is over at your place but you have no idea what relationship you have with him

You and Vince broke up when he left for the NHL and now he’s back at home

Vince is acting sus and you finally figure out why

Vince is tired but not tired enough to not be a distraction

You and Vince are out in public and you call him your private nickname

You take home Vince when he’s drunk and you have an interesting conversation the next morning

You call your mom to tell her the big news

Vince has been streaming a lot lately and you want his attention

Vince has the man flu and calls you to take care of him

Vince tries to surprise you but fails in doing so

You and Vince take your daughter to visit her grandparents

Vince tries to make your birthday a little more special

What a shock, Vince is a lovey drunk

It’s your niece’s first birthday party and Vince meets your family

After a night out Vince meets your son, Ben, and fits right in

It’s your anniversary so you and Vince go back to the place you had your first date but Vince doesn’t like the initials on the high score list

You and Vince are out shopping and he’s teasing you the entire time

HCs

Vince’s reaction to hearing you call yourself Mrs. Dunn

Jamie Oleksiak

Fics:

Leave before you love me

And a bow on top

Not like I’m in love with you

Blurbs:

You talk about the other man you have a crush on

Your friend drags you to a ‘singles event’

Jamie is mean when you try to surprise him

You have news for your daughter and you aren’t sure how she’ll take it

You and Jamie aren’t a weird couple, but you really are

You’re in an uncomfortable situation with an ex and Jamie comes to your rescue

#andre burakovsky imagine #jamie oleksiak imagine #seattle kraken imagines

[wyattjohnston]

Hello! From the 'different ways to say I love you' prompt list, could you please do '“i’m— i’m happy when you’re here. i’m happy.” with Andre Burakovsky? :)

Sweden is nothing like you’d imagined—mostly because Andre had downplayed its beauty. It’s just a country, he’d said when you’d asked him to describe, despite him also saying repeatedly it’s the best country on earth.

It’s not that Denver—Colorado—isn’t beautiful but spending your whole life there has left you a bit underwhelmed by it all.

You’re ecstatic to be there, had been excited by the mere thought of going there before you knew how much you’d truly adore it. Andre seems to understand, at least, that being invited home with him is important even if he insisted that you could visit Sweden whenever you wanted. You don’t need a special invitation in your passport was what he’d said.

“Are you going to admit that it’s gorgeous?” you ask, overlooking the lake. “You haven’t stopped smiling since we sat down.”

The pair of you had set up a small picnic at your instance because you wanted to spend as much time as you possibly could outdoors.

“I haven’t stopped smiling,” he says, he smile growing ever bigger, “because I’m happy when you’re here with me. I’m happy.”

“I’m happy, too, Andre. You make me happy.”

#andre burakovsky fic #andre burakovsky imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #homemade fic #avs celly #fic: avs

[laurenairay]

there’s a party going on right here - A. Burakovsky

The fifth of five fics to celebrate The Avs winning the Stanley Cup!

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Two-time stanley cup champion Andre Burakovsky? YES! He deserves this and I love this for him. And I might have gotten a little carried away with this one but I regret nothing.

Sequel.

*

You’d been there in DC, through the highs of your best friend’s first Stanley Cup win and through the lows of the trade that followed only a few weeks later. You’d been there to help him pick up the pieces, to give him that foundation to thrive like he so desperately needed after having his world shaken apart. You’d been there to help him settle into life in Denver, to see him struggle and grow and flourish just like you knew he would.

And you were here again now, with his parents and his sisters, to watch your best friend win the Stanley Cup again. Two-time Stanley Cup champion Andre Burakovsky – it had a nice ring to it. Fuck the doubters and the haters and everyone who said that he didn’t have what it took. Fuck them. Andre had proven them wrong again, and you couldn’t be more proud of him.

You’d already celebrated with everyone last night – the team, the family and friends – in the stereotypical bars and clubs before crashing back at the hotel. This time round, as opposed to DC, you’d booked your own room rather than sharing with his sisters, allowing you to stumble back from the final club at an ungodly hour, Andre stumbling with you. Between the two of you, you’d managed to get back to the hotel in once piece, even if he was giggling and you weren’t walking in a straight line, and he’d waited until you had your door unlocked before heading off to his own room, protective instincts kicking even when drunk like the sweetheart he was.

And man were you drunk last night.

While you’d rather have stayed in bed this morning, curled up in a ball to wait out the nausea and grogginess, a quick shower and glass of water had gotten you steady enough to meet Andre for a late breakfast in the hotel restaurant. His sisters had already said they weren’t joining you, and his parents had ventured out on their own, leaving just you and Andre to slowly eat some toast, not daring to eat anymore in fear of upsetting your stomachs. The joys of hangovers, not.

“I know partying really isn’t your thing, but I’m really happy you’re here.”

Andre’s soft words made you smile softly, and you just shook your head. Your best friend really was so sweet.

“Where else would I be, hm?” you mused.

“I don’t know, in Malm��?” he teased.

Underneath the joking smile, you could see the hesitance of the boy you’d grown up with. Andre always doubted himself, doubted why people would want to be around him, doubted why anyone would care, and it always broke your heart. How could such a brilliant, talented, genuine guy like him not see the light he brought to people’s lives? To your life? His sunshine smile and goofy sense of humour had brought you out of more funks than he knew, but you wished by this point he realised exactly how much you valued his friendship. There was no-one else like him – and there never would be.

“I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, Andre, okay? I’m not going anywhere,” you said seriously, holding out your little finger in promise, “you’re stuck with me.”

Andre finally grinned fully, relaxed and natural, and he wasted no time in linking his little finger with yours to seal that promise. “I think I can handle being stuck with you.”

You laughed, flapping a hand at him as you sipped at your coffee. He really was such a big part of your life – not having him in it with you? Unbearable to even consider. A life without Andre wasn’t a life you wanted to know.

The two of you slowly worked your way through a little more food, carefully to settle your stomachs, before a loud noise of triumph came from behind you. Andre groaned as he looked up, and when you turned your head to look yourself, you saw EJ walked towards you, looking far too fresh for how drunk you knew he was last night.

“There you are Burky! Are you heading out with the team for brunch before we have to leave for the airport, or are you busy?”

Ah, that was why Andre reacted that way. You knew EJ was a prankster from the previous times you’d met him, and you could tell he was enjoying teasing your best friend by the way he wiggled his eyebrows lewdly. Strangely, Andre flushed deeply and glared at his teammate, although that only encouraged a wider grin.

“Go away EJ,” Andre hissed, flapping his hand.

“Ah, young love,” EJ sighed dramatically, raising a hand to his head in a fake-swoon as he wandered away.

Young love?

“Ignore him. He’s an idiot,” Andre muttered, cheeks still scarlet.

You bit your bottom lip, the butterflies in your stomach matching the heated flush of your cheeks, Andre’s face looking curious in your silence. This was far from the first time that someone had teased you and Andre about your relationship, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last, so why was it making you hesitate when it never had before?

“Or we could not ignore him?” Andre murmured.

His voice was as shaky as you felt, your eyes as wide as his were. Oh fuck. Was he really suggesting…really?

Maybe he had thought about the possibility between the two of you before, if this teasing was affecting him so much. But maybe this wasn’t the best time for it.

“Maybe that’s something we should revisit when we’re not both stupidly hungover? When you actually have a moment of genuine time after all the team celebrations have finished?” you said softly.

You couldn’t help but wince at the astounded look on Andre’s face, wishing desperately to take those bold words back, but the moment that Andre smiled, all that tension drained from your body. This was happening. This was really happening.

“I think we owe it to ourselves to talk properly, yeah,” Andre said, a little shyly.

Wow.

“What ever happened to flighty careless Andre, hm?” you mused.

“He was able to grow up, thanks to you,” Andre shrugged, a grin teasing at his lips.

“Sweet talker,” you shot back, deflecting from the growing heat on his cheeks.

Andre just laughed, a little shakily, showing you that this was affecting him as much as it was affecting you.

“I can’t wait to get home,” he said, a little giddily, eyes wide like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

To be honest, you couldn’t quite believe it either. But you couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

#my writing #andre burakovsky blurb #the avs are stanley cup champions! #andre burakovsky imagine #andre burakovsky fic #andre burakovsky fanfic #andre burakovsky x reader

[ilyasorokinn]

andre burakovsky with forehead touching since he would do that in videos with the caps and it was so cute

MINE FOREVER

TAYLOR'S AVS NIGHT!

1. "touching foreheads" (from this prompt list)

although it was a happy day, andre couldn't help but feel disappointed. it was game 6, hopefully, the game that would end the series, but you weren't there to be with him. he wasn't playing but it would've been great to celebrate with you.

"you really can't come?"

"i can't, i'm sorry." andre frowned and you felt your heartbreak, "we'll celebrate together when you come home."

"of course." he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

the one thing you left out was you were actually in the same city as him. you had to turn off your location, which you knew he found a little strange but he didn't question it.

you were sitting with a few other girls in your jacket, cheering all the guys on. as the last seconds ticked down, your grip on their hands got tighter.

when the clock reached 0, that's when you jumped up and out of your seat, pulling one of the girls into a hug. after the ceremony, families were finally let onto the ice.

you let his family go up to give him hugs before you made yourself known. his family smiled at you from behind him, which caught his attention.

he turned around and saw you and he ran over to you so fast you almost fell over but he wrapped his arms around you and caught you.

"what happened to not being able to come?"

"i got my meeting scheduled for next week so i'm yours for the week." you smiled.

"you're mine forever." he smiled, leaning his forehead on yours. you smiled up at him, leaning up and kissing him.

#andre burakovsky imagine #andre burakovsky imagines #andre burakovsky x reader #andre burakovsky fic #andre burakovsky blurbs #andre burakovsky #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #hockey #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalanche blurbs #colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche #taylor writes #taylor writes: hockey #taylor's blurbs #taylor's prompt lists #taylor's avs night!

[izzylovesyou2022]

Intertwined Like The Stars~ Andre Burakovsky

Selma pulled her blonde and turquoise braid over her shoulder and climbed down the steps one at the time. The players had just gotten off the ice after practice. Andre, her best friend since forever, was one of the quickest changers in the locker room.

She tossed her comfort ball from hand to hand and rolled her shoulders backwards. Today's practice had been intense even for NHL standards and she knew Andre would most likely require a shoulder massage when they got home.

Finally, the locker room door came into view. Selma didn't feel like going inside, so she leaned up against the wall and closed her eyes.

She was actually very lucky to be living with Andre. He understood her better than anyone else in the world. Most people didn't think he was very smart, but when it came to Selma and her little ways, he was the most intelligent. She always figured it was because they'd known each other their entire lives, but Andre wouldn't tell that secret to her.

"Älskling!"

Selma's lips twitched as she opened her eyes. Only one person was allowed to call her that.

"Dre," she whispered, pushing herself off the wall and melting into Andre's embrace.

She giggled when Andre kissed the top of her head and looked up into his chocolate brown eyes.

"That looked like a rough practice," she informed him, her forehead furrowing as he winced slightly.

Andre nodded his agreement and stretched out his arm.

"Coach wants us in fine form, little flower. We've got some tough games coming up."

Selma shivered and moved her hand up Andre's arm.

"I just hope he doesn't work you hard enough that you pull a muscle, Dre."

Andre finally smiled and wrapped his arm around Selma's shoulders.

"I don't think coach will work us that hard, little flower. Besides, you want me to be strong, don't you?"

Selma rolled her eyes as she trotted close to Andre down the hall. The teasing never stopped with him. Luckily, he teased her in a way she understood and respected.

"Yes, of course, Dre. I need my protector to be strong."

Andre swallowed hard at that and struggled to keep his heart rate at a normal pace. Selma never truly knew how much it meant to him to be called her protector.

He opened the bed of his truck and lifted Selma up onto it, grinning at her detailed squeak.

"Don't you worry, little flower," he whispered, giving her a gentle tap on the nose, which caused it to wrinkle, "my strength isn't going anywhere."

A/N: Älskling= love, darling

#andre burakovsky #andre burakovsky imagine #washington capital imagine #seattle kraken #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #autism #selma #best friends to lovers #intertwined like the stars #chapter 1

[crow-the-unknown]

something about how trades really do affect players. how it's not just us as fans being crazy or reading too much into it. it's real and it's painful. erik johnson has lacked the hutzpah he once had ever since leaving colorado, as if he could bear landeskog's injury but the second he was forced to leave it all came crashing down. sidney crosby has lost much of the joy he once carried and it's because he had the human, golden embodiment of that joy in jake guentzel torn away from him when he needed it most. dylan larkin shed genuine, heartfelt, distraught tears when tyler bertuzzi was traded away. the penguins still welcome marc-andre fleury to pittsburgh every time he plays there because, no matter where he is, that is his home. pk subban could never return to the same player he was after he was taken from price. trevor zegras is seemingly incomplete without drysdale at his side. brandon duhaime is lacking his connor dewar. bowen byram no longer has his alex newhook to lean on and laugh with. travis koneckny and nolan patrick may never even get the chance to play another game with or against one another. and who could imagine kuznetsov as anyone but a capital? do you really think of pavelski in the green of the stars or do you see him proud in teal beside thornton and marleau? did shea weber ever really stop being a nashville predator? and what about beauvillier, horvat, compher, dumolin, burakovsky, kadri, yamamoto, hornqvist, eberle, o'rielly, barrie, jost, gaudreau, karlsson, carter and richards, martin, and so many others? even wayne gretzky himself went to three teams post trade, searching for that spark he had in edmonton after they made him leave. jagr had eight after pittsburgh. you are not crazy for grieving, in some small way, a player you lost. and they aren't crazy for feeling distraught either. these teams are family. and family is everything, even if it gets ripped apart so easily.

#colorado avalanche #pittsburgh penguins #edmonton oilers #toronto maple leafs #vancover canucks #new york islanders #detroit red wings #anahiem ducks #philidelphia flyers #minnesota wild #nashville predators #montreal canadiens #washington capitals #san jose sharks #calgary flames #ottawa senators #nhl #hockey #all i do is cry about this sport seriously #was feeling a bit poetic #also there are so many more players i could include here it's upsetting. fuck trades man