#nate mackinnon x reader

[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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#the santa clause #the santa clauses #claus!reader #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon x you #nathan mackinnon x y/n #nate mack #nate mackinnon #nate mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon x you #nate mackinnon x y/n #colorado avalanche #hockey rpf #hockey fic #hockey romance #hockey fandom #hockey boys #hockey x reader #hockey x you #hockey x y/n #professional sports #athlete x reader #nhl x you #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fluff #hockey fluff

[harlowhockeystick]

… “the last thing i want is some dirty cop to get ahold of you” …

dirty cop!nate x fem!reader

fic coming soon | au tag

#my asks #dirty cop!nate #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon x reader #nhl imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #hockey imagine

[mikkomacko]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was warm with love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m always sweet.”

You laughed. “Extra sweet, then.”

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

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

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

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

“Love you more, kid.”

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

#nathan mackinnon #nate mack #nathan mackinnon x reader #Nathan mackinnon blurb #nhl #colorado avalanche

[fallinallincurls]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#nathan mackinnon #baby avs verse #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon blurb #nathan mackinnon fluff #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon #asks #ask bre #concepts #send in some concepts! #lovely anon #THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING TO WRITE

[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.

#nathan mackinnon oneshot #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon x reader #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey oneshot #hockey imagine

[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.

#nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagines #nathan mackinnon x reader #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #cale makar imagines #cale makar x reader #cale makar #erik johnson #erik johnson x reader #erik johnson imagines

[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. 

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #brayden point fic #shelb writes

[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

#NHL Hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl insta edit #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich blurbs #umich boys <3 #New Jersey Devils #columbus blue jackets #mason mctavish #anaheim ducks #los angeles kings #colorado avalanche #vancouver canucks #owen powers #nick blankenburg #arber xhekaj #san jose sharks

[skjeinon]

requests: closed

players i will and wont write for

* means smut ofc

Sidney Crosby

savior complex - (part 1) (part 2 *)

Tom Wilson

gold rush*

Brady Skjei

the all star break - w andrei svechnikov*

blue shirts - rangers!brady*

fangs - vamp au!*

blurb requests* (kinks)

kevin hayes

tell me you love me - blurb

cale makar

blurb requests - soft!makar

blurb requests* - soft/touchy!makar

chris kreider

blurb requests* (aggressive chris)

blurb requests* (breeding kink chris)

blurb request* (cock warming chris)

blurb request* (with mika!)

father’s day!blurb requests

mika zibanejad

blurb requests* (kinks)

nathan mackinnon

blurb requests*

father’s day!blurb requests

poly! nate x reader x cale

blurb request*

blurb request (soft hcs)

blurb request (teaching y/n to skate)

TJ oshie

blurb requests

jordan staal

go ahead and cry little girl - (part 1*)(part 2*)(part 3)

jeremy swayman

captain doesn’t have to know *

anders lee

thinking about you*

more on my AO3 @skjeinon

team building exercise - carolina hurricanes (smut)

#skjeinon #masterlist

[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

#nate mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon x you #nathan mackinnon x y/n #nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon x y/n #nate mackinnon x you #nate mackinnon #nate dogg #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #the hughes brothers #the hughes family #jeff skinner #jeff skinner x reader #jeff skinner x you #jeff skinner x y/n #erik johnson #erik johnson x reader #erik johnson fanfiction #erik johnson fic #erik johnson x you #the nanny verse #the nanny #nanny!reader #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #jack hughes fluff

[harlowhockeystick]

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."

#my asks #j's writing #mean!nate #nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon x reader #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #hockey blurb

[provokedgoalie]

drowning | nathan m.

I was listening to Taylor Grey – Poison. I also wanted to write asshole!Nate ꈍᴗꈍ (reader & nate have a toxic relationship, but reader is still with him.)

• bold sentences are from this post.

*update 10/08/22: listened to this playlist while finishing this fic up*

Moments like this made you forget your relationship was unstable— his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you leaned your head back against his shoulder, laughing at what your friends were saying over cups of cheap beer; it almost made the things that were said and done swept under the rug.

Almost.

“Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should’ve listened to them.” You hurled the words at him, like the picture frame that was now broken at his feet.

He took a step towards you, palms up, coaxing you into his arms— like so many times he's done when a fight occured.

This time you wouldn't give in.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” Your teeth gritted as you recoiled from him, eyelids closing when you noticed his eyebrows furrow and jaw harden.

His hands dropped to his sides, clenching and releasing as he struggled to keep his breathing under control; in a situation like this, you would've soothed circles into his back, murmuring apologies into his neck as if you were the cause of his explosive nature.

You didn't dare to comfort him now.

“You'll never leave me, you know,” he spoke in a convicted whisper, nodding to himself when you turned to walk out the door.

#darkbucky writes #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon x reader #avs nate #nhl fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #natedogg #nathan mackinnon angst #nate mackinnon angst #nhl angst #hockey angst #nhl x reader #hockey x reader #nhl fanfiction #hockeyblr #ice hockey #writers on tumblr #hockey fandom #nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon #angst fic #nathan mackinnon x you #nathan mackinnon x y/n #toxic love #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics

[mikkomacko]

Dating Nathan MacKinnon

Social Media

A/N: Had this sitting in the drafts, figured I'd post it to distract the Avs fans from last night :)

Enjoy x

Liked by MacKinnon29 and others

Your.instagram: The Dogg behind the scenes 🎥

Tagged: MacKinnon29

6ErikJohnson6: Blue steel

CaleMakar: 🐕x🎥

MacKinnon29: I said no secret photos

-> your.instagram: But you're so handsome 🥺

->MacKinnon29: 🙄☺️

Liked by your.instagtam and others

MacKinnon29: Best trophy I've ever gotten. Runner up: my trophy wife (not pictured)

Tagged: your.instagram

Your.instagram: you literally had a million pictures with this trophy wife and you picked the one without me? 🔉Divorce 🔉

->MacKinnon29: My lawyers are sharks btw so be ready

Landeskog.92: Gotta put a ring on her first bud

->MacKinnon29: No she's my wife

Liked by MacKinnon29 and others

Your.instagram: BRB untying my shoe behind his back so he can tie it again

Tagged: MacKinnon29

MacKinnon29: ✍🏻 buy babe slip ons for Christmas

Your.instagram: I'll return them when you're on a roadie 🥰

JTCompher: dogg on a leash

->MacKinnon29: 🦮😀

->Your.instagram: Ok you're getting a muzzle now too

Like by your.instagram and others

MacKinnon29: 🐕 x the love of his life

Tagged: your.instagram

Landeskog.92: you gotta come up with a better caption bud

-> MacKinnon29: 🐕x🙅🏻‍♂️

Bowen.Byram: caption is 🤢

Your.instagram: omg omg omg did you just show emotion on social media?

-> MacKinnon29: Yes now say it back

-> your.instagram: ur my favorite lil pup and I love you 🥰

-> MacKinnon29: 😁

Liked by Landeskog.92 and others

Your.instagram: Uncle 🐕 and his little love

Tagged: MacKinnon29

Landeskog.92: Uncle 🐕 x lil 🦁

Cradnec: He doesn't smile at me like that

-> ColoradoAvalanche: liar. We see those celly hugs

-> your.instagram: he doesn't smile at me like that either 😣

MacKinnon29: lil 🐕 will be at the next cup parade

-> your.instagram: um excuse you?

-> 6ErikJohnson6: keep if PG Nate, Burky's on here for the love of God

-> MacKinnon29: 😉

#nathan mackinnon #nate mack #nathan mackinnon social media #nathan mackinnon x reader #dating nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl

[fallinallincurls]

Under The Mistletoe (With You)

sooo @tonyspep and i have created this whole verse that you’ve only gotten a taste of so far through my fic without a doubt, my heart will lead me to you (two) and gina’s if home is where the heart is, then i’m homesick for you! this fun little fic is part of the same verse! we don’t get to see the mini macs aka noah, kat or miles here, but this the softest moment of nate and the reading falling in love and i had fun writing this. happy holidays!

there’s PLENTY of background built for this verse already so my asks are open for any and every question in relation to this eek!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.6k

~~~~~

Denver received the season’s first dusting of snow yesterday, signaling winter’s anticipated arrival. It meant the holidays were right around the corner and your favorite day of the year was finally here.

You couldn’t mark the specific date on the calendar, but no matter when the first snowfall happened, it meant you’d be spending the next day decorating the bakery. Stringing up colorful lights, putting gifts under a small tree, hanging ornaments and cutting paper snowflakes. Everything from the display case to the front windows and anything in between got some kind of holiday decoration.

Today was that day. And unlike the last few years where you’ve done it all by yourself, you get to share the tradition with someone else now. Someone you love more than anything. 

“Nate, can you grab the strand of little snowflakes please?” You ask from atop the little step stool you’re currently standing on, a finger pointed at one of the many boxes on the floor. He nods, a soft smile on display across his lips as he finds said snowflakes in the box.

“Where do these go?” The question is gentle like he’s memorizing where every single one of the decorations go so he remembers in the future. That thought alone makes your heart swell. You might have only been dating for a year now, but something about Nate feels like forever. And you’ve never shared decorating the bakery with anyone else, not even your best friend, so the fact he’s here right now with you putting up lights and tiny Christmas trees and making snowflakes is proof he’s special.

“Across the top of all the windows. So it looks like it's snowing.” You reply with a giggle, leaning down to kiss him. “If you want to get started on the other side, we could meet in the middle so that way these are done quicker?”

“Sounds like a plan, babe.” Nate smiles, kissing you one more time before getting to work on the opposite end of the front windows with his own string of snowflakes. The cutest look of concentration crosses over his face as he carefully hangs the decoration and your heart swells at the sight. 

The soft notes of Christmas music fill the bakery and the golden glow of fairy lights make the scene feel even more magical than it usually does. Except you think that has more to do with the man who is taking part in your yearly tradition than anything else. You keep sneaking peeks at Nate, hoping he doesn’t catch you, and it’s another reminder of just how lucky you are.  

He’s humming “Holly Jolly Christmas” to himself as he focuses on decorating, his sweater riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his toned stomach. A long, gold strand of tinsel hangs around his neck and his cheeks are tinted the cutest color pink either from blush or how warm it is in the bakery. There’s that familiar glint of pure joy evident in his blue eyes that not many get to see, but you do and you’re forever grateful for that. 

You almost can’t believe that a year or so ago, Nate was a stranger. Someone who walked into Colorado Cookie Company, shy as anything, to compliment the batch of cookies you made for the Avs charity event. Never in a million years did you think he would become this important, take up this much room in your heart.

And yet, here you are.

“Done!” Nate exclaims, putting his hands up in a mini celebration as he steps off the stool to admire his work. “Not so bad if I do say so myself.”

“Nathan MacKinnon. One of the NHL’s biggest stars and secretly amazing at decorating for the holidays. Quite the tiny snowflake expert.” 

“Hey,” Nate pouts dramatically, picking up on your teasing tone and playing along. You can’t help but giggle at the look on his face but join him to look up at the snowflakes now hanging about the big front windows. 

Before he gets the chance to say anything else in response or think of a comeback, you pull him in for a soft, gentle kiss that speaks volumes without a single word being uttered.

“I love you. Thank you for doing this.” 

Nate is floored. He might still be getting used to the idea of really, truly being in love (although he knows he is) and the kiss might have caught him by surprise, but it just occurs how much this means to you.

Decorating the bakery, a place that’s another home to you, isn’t something to take lightly. This is another step in your relationship, a big one. Nate knew it was important when you invited him to join in on the tradition, but it’s just occurring to him that this is something he could be doing every year for the rest of his life. 

And my god, he wants that so bad.

“I love you too. I’m happy to be here. Nowhere else I’d rather be.” And he means it because every word is true.

The sweetest smile appears on his lips before the two of you share a few more kisses. But you playfully push him away a minute later, your beautiful laugh making Nate undeniably happy.

“Save those for later. We’ve gotta get this done.”

“Okay, okay. What’s next?” Nate questions, following you to another box of decorations where you hand him the small Christmas tree that will be full of holiday wishes soon and a little menorah for the counter.

It only takes a couple more hours of dancing together to whatever Christmas song was playing, sharing kisses and making sure every inch of the bakery was covered in holiday spirit to finish decorating. Even if you do this every year, the final product always takes your breath away. 

“It’s beautiful,” Nate murmurs, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you from behind. A comfortable moment of silence settles as you both take in the scene together. 

“There’s just one thing missing.” 

Nate’s brows furrow in confusion as you leave his tight embrace. What else could possibly be missing? He’s never seen a place as decked out as your little bakery is right now. But before he can say anything in response, you’re holding up a small bundle of mistletoe. 

“Oh,” is all Nate says, the cutest blush spreading across his cheeks. You can’t help but giggle at how bashful he suddenly is.

“Wanna help me hang it up?” You ask in a soft tone. Nate nods, stepping closer and carefully taking hold of the plant. “Right in the doorway.”

Without any other direction, Nate somehow puts the mistletoe in the perfect spot. He flashes a beaming smile towards you, proud of his work, and a feeling of comfort like no other courses through your veins. You rush into him so fast that he lets out a little “oof” at the impact before pulling you in closer as you hug him as tightly as possible.

It isn’t until you look up at him a few moments later, heart full of indescribable love, that you realize where you’re both standing. Under the mistletoe in the doorway. 

“I think,” Nate starts, cheeks becoming pink again as the cutest smile appears on his face, “this is the part where we kiss. Mistletoe and all, you know.” 

“Well then, handsome, what are you waiting for?”

Nate doesn’t waste any time leaning in and closing the space between you. He feels you smiling against his lips as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. It’s a kiss like no other and you can’t place why, but you try to commit every detail to memory. The warmth of Nate’s hands on your hips, how you can feel his emotions through the kiss and how at home you feel right now; it’s something you didn’t think you’d ever get to experience. 

When you pull away, you find Nate’s blue eyes full of a kind of fondness you haven’t seen before. He kisses you a few more times underneath the mistletoe, earning warm laughs from you in return.

“I can’t wait to do this with our kids one day.” He says suddenly as you’re carding through his hair. The words shock you for a second before the thought enters your mind. Little feet running around the bakery, helping decorate the small tree and Nate lifting them up to string lights around the windows. Handprint Christmas tree art hanging on the wall next to the family pictures and the sound of happy baby laughs mixed with holiday music. 

You can see it all. And standing here, in Nate’s arms under the mistletoe after sharing one of your dearest traditions with him, makes it feel a little more real.

“Our kids?” You tease him, giggling at the expression on his face.

“Yeah, our kids. Can’t you see it?” The look of love and hope are hard to miss and it’s enough to make those recurring thoughts of spending the rest of your life with him reappear. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bubs. We’ve got a while to go until we get there.” 

“But we’ll get there?”

“We’ll get there. For now, I’m gonna steal as many mistletoe kisses as I can and decorate the bakery with you until a little one comes along.” You giggle, kissing him again to which Nate sweeps you off your feet and twirls you around to the music still playing. The holidays might be the most wonderful time of the year, but you know with Nate here, it’ll be extra special like never before.

taglist: @tonyspep @miracleonice87 @starshine-hockey-girl @kailyn-writes @happer08 @stroopwaffle8 @nateslehky @rosesvioletshardy @sorryjustafangirl @laurenairay @hockeyunits @musiclove-12 @ilyasorokinn @jostystyles @comphyjost @ya-pucking-nerd @beauvibaby @sourjoonie @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @itrocksmysocks @typical-simplelove @boqvistsbabe @eightmakar @antoineroussel @suitandtys @equallyshaw​ @andreburakozy​ 

#nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon fic #nate mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #colorado avalanche #nathan mackinnon x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon fluff #hwncloud #mackinnon #fluff

[ilyasorokinn]

Running into Nate’s arms after the win, whispering how proud you are of him 🥺

SKIP THIS ROUND

mashing two together again :)

TAYLOR'S AVS NIGHT!

you felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest as you made your way down to the ice. your hand, for the last period, had been gripped in johanna's.

as you went down to the ice with all the other girls, your heart only started beating faster. your eyes went from guy to guy, trying to spot yours.

when you finally did find him, he was talking with someone, but when he saw you, he excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to you.

you pulled away from johanna, and met him halfway. he caught you as you jumped into his arms. you hid his face in your neck, and you could tell he was crying.

you hugged him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. he pulled away and wiped his eyes, "i'm so proud of you." you leaned up and kissed the underside of his jaw.

he hugged you again, leaning his head on top of yours, "stanley cup champs!" you cheered.

he laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as an interviewer came up and began asking him questions.

after they were cleared to leave, the only right thing to do was to party. so you found yourself at a bar at like 12 in the morning. drinks were flowing and you knew nate would have a bad hangover for a week and a half.

"shots!" someone shouted, and nate was running in that direction.

"i think you can skip this round." you grabbed his arm and sat him down next to you, pouring a glass of water. he whined, "no whining. you've already had enough alcohol to knock out a cow. drink some water."

#nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon imagines #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon blurbs #nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #hockey #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalache fic #colorado avalanche blurbs #colorado avalanche #taylor writes #taylor writes: hockey #taylor's blurbs #taylor's avs night!

[huggybug]

50 for Nathan MacKinnon? Happy dilf day!

happy dilf day!

50. “Why did you teach them that?”

Nate was a good dad. Sure, he wasn’t around all the time and it definitely wasn’t easy but he tried his hardest to make sure he was there for your daughter. His constant facetime calls on the road were a highlight of Scarlett’s day and you knew Nate loved it just as much. However, despite his commitment to her during the season, nothing compared to when he was home.

Nate loved taking your toddler to the park or out on little excursions and he was always making sure you were getting enough time away from the house if you wanted. All in all, Nate was a great dad and a wonderful husband... for the most part. 

Walking into your house, you can hear that a few of the guys are over and guessing by the cars in the driveway, it was Gabe, EJ, and Cale. You aren’t attacked in a hug until you reach the living room, Scarlett jumping off of Nate’s lap to waddle over and give you a giggly hug as you say hello to everyone.

“How was lunch?” Nate asks with a smile when you cross the room to sit with him on the couch.

“Good, my mom wants to invite us over for dinner soon”

“Yeah sure that’d be great”

“Show Y/n what Scarlett can do!” EJ chimed from the other side of the room with a big smile.

“Oh yeah this is cool” Nate smirks. “Scar? Can you get Daddy a drink?” You watch as your daughter obediently hops up and wanders into the kitchen. You hear the fridge open and shut before she emerges with a cold beer in her hand.

“Nathan!”

“What?” His eyes went wide, not liking being on the receiving end of your scorn.

“Why did you teach her that?” 

“It’s funny” He shrugs and you sigh loudly.

“Our three year old serving you alcohol is not funny” You turned to Gabe and Cale who were laughing. “I trusted you two to be responsible” You waved a finger between them but your words only made EJ let out a squawk.

“Hey! Why just them?” 

“Erik Johnson if you think I would trust you with anything-”

“Okay no reason to be rude” You roll your eyes at the dramatic display.

“Just at least promise me you won’t teach her how to open the can?” You turn to Nate who smirks before nodding and cracking open his fresh beer.

#happy dilf day! #nate mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #dad au #colorado avalanche #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players