#nate mackinnon x you
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━ 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
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i find myself going back and reading your fics with little noah mackinnon very often! i’m not even close to having kids, but i love the thought of them climbing into bed looking for their parents. maybe after a rough game like this with noah going and making his dada smile with cute baby giggles 🥺. just having a day full of love after such a sad loss
ohmygosh anon thank you for this!! i LOVE noah graham mackinnon so much and there’s plenty more i haven’t even written yet but i’m so happy out like the fics i’ve posted so far. also spoiler alert, in the baby avs verse as @tonyspep and i have named it, noah gets two little siblings so!! this idea is adorable so here you go🥺
a toddler can’t fully grasp what happened tonight, you know that. but noah is familiar with both nate’s happiness after a win and sadness after a loss. he could tell his dad wasn’t happy when he gave him the usual excited postgame hug.
but noah’s bright smile and joy was enough to make nate happy, even if you could tell something was still off. it convinced noah that everything was okay.
or so you thought.
you snuggle in closer to nate in bed, wrapping your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his chest as a silent reminder you’re there. and just as you close your eyes, ready to go to sleep, the bedroom door creaks open and the softest “dada?” is said into the quiet air of the room.
“is that noah?” nate asks you, confused if he heard the little voice correctly. before you can respond, your son is on nate’s side of the bed and is gently tugging on his strong arm.
“dada!” the little boy exclaims, a smile lighting up his face as nate scoops him up and places him on his chest. noah snuggles in for a moment before pulling back to look at nate. “no sad, dada. no.” noah shakes his head, pressing his little hands into nate’s cheeks which are still covered with scruff. “ah! scwatchies!”
nate laughs, the joyful sound filling your heart with so much love. a tough loss hurts but somehow your son has the magic touch of always cheering your husband up.
“sorry, noah. scratchies are still there. but i’m not sad. how can i be with you here? and mommy too!” nate replies, tickling noah’s sides to which he giggled loudly.
“dada!” noah practically squeals and you can feel it right then, the sadness and pressure and disappointment that has been hanging over nate since that final buzzer is gone. all because of the little boy you both love so much.
“you win next.” noah says simply, settling against nate’s chest again. nate’s sweet smile never falters as he kisses the top of his son’s head, smoothing back his messy red, blonde hair.
“thanks for making sure i’m not sad, bud. and next year, i’ll win the cup for you, okay? for you and mommy.” nate promises, looking over at you with so much love in his blue eyes.
“mhm, no sad now.” noah mumbles, slowly falling back asleep in the comfort of his father’s arms. you can’t help but smile at the scene, leaning your head against nate’s shoulder.
“i love you.” you say quietly to both your boys. and as you fall asleep together, you dream of nate winning another cup and sharing the exciting moment with your little family.
in this verse’s timeline, nate wins his second cup the year when the twins are born which would be about a year after this so HEHE
#nathan mackinnon#baby avs verse#PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT THIS VERSE OMG#nathan mackinnon fic#nathan mackinnon blurb#nathan mackinnon fluff#nathan mackinnon x reader#nate mackinnon#concept night#send in some concepts!#asks#ask bre#so happy you like the fics with noah omg!!
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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
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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
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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
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Am I Ready (To Be Loved) | Nathan MacKinnon
Summary: Nate is not known to be impulsive, especially when it comes to love. So what happens when he gets a crazy idea while hungover the day after the Avalanche Stanley Cup parade.
a/n: Happy Holidays folks! My first fic back (on this new blog) is a reworking of a fic I wrote for my Winter Prompt request last year (for @fallinallincurls). Thought I needed to start somewhere. This is obviously set in 2022 because I can't stand the idea of the avs squad being different. It also features some of our fave tropes.
Pairing: Nathan McKinnon x Female!OC
Words: 8K
Warnings: alcohol
Requests: Open | Masterlist
Charlotte hated these fancy functions. The schmoozing and the small talk were things that made her feel like she was going to crawl out of her skin. No matter how much she would normally enjoy conversation, this just felt fake. And she knew how ridiculous it was. She worked in media. She was always in front of cameras. She took this job knowing this was a requirement. It doesn’t change the truth that, at her core, she would rather be on the couch watching some TV show on Netflix.
Although this wasn’t the first formal event she’d ever been to, this was the first Colorado Avalanche donors’ function. It didn’t help that she had only been working as a correspondent for Altitude TV for a few months; so many knew her name and her face, but no one really knew her personally. So, it was just smile, small talk, comment on the Avs, rinse and repeat.
After an hour or so of this, she was feeling done. Heading to the bar for a drink and found a cocktail table in the corner of the room, tucked near the obscenely large Christmas Tree, where she could just stand and watch. Charlotte looked around the room and wondered how long she had to stay before it was not inappropriate to leave.
“Hate these parties too, eh?” a familiar voice rang beside her.
Despite her shattered solitude, the voice brought out a smile on her face. “What do you mean? I don’t hate this?” she replied, not putting in much effort to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She turned to face the voice and the sight almost startled her a little as she felt her face warm. There stood Nathan Mackinnon in his perfectly tailored navy suit, eyes shining in the dim lighting. She takes a drink quickly to distract herself, reminding herself to be a professional.
“Sure,” he chuckled, “hiding in a dark corner isn’t avoiding the party, Charlotte.”
She shrugs as she turns her eyes back to the party.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers in her ear, making her neck tingle a little, “I really don’t like these parties either. I would rather be at home on the couch with my dog watching TV.”
As he leaned back to sip his drink, she turned to him in surprise. “Oh yeah? Like what? More hockey tape?”
After a bit of light banter, they find that they have the same favorite show, much to Charlotte’s surprise. In the dim corner of a fancy event, they are quoting their favorite lines to each other, trying their hardest not to burst out laughing, hiding themselves behind their drinks so as to not draw too much attention at such a fancy event. Charlotte’s laughing so hard she snorts a little, causing Nate to look at her in surprise before continuing to laugh even harder, drawing some looks from the donors and teammates closest to them. After a while, when they both finally calm down, she feels herself relax a little.
They stood in a comfortable silence for a few more moments before Nate spoke up again. “You know, Charlotte. You ask me questions all the time, but I don’t think I really know anything about you other than your name and your job title.”
“I mean, I only really ever ask you questions about the game or the team,” she responds.
“Yeah, but I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about me,” he said pointedly, but softly. He had a point; it was her job to know as much about the players as possible.
“Okay, I know about NHL Hockey Player, Avs’ Center, Forward Extraordinaire Nathan “Nate the Dogg” Mackinnon,” she says, flashing her hands in front as if to signal an imaginary banner, “I don’t know Nate “a dude who sits on his couch with his dog watching dumb shows” Mackinnon.”
“Alright, that’s fair,” he responds deep in thought. “Fine, how about we play 20 questions? You ask me a question; I ask you a question.”
“How very high school, Nathan,” she pauses to think about it. She wasn’t really sure how to feel about this new friendship. On the one hand, it is her job to get to know the players. Although, she was pretty sure that the fraternizing was only supposed to be in professional contexts. On the other hand, her heart was beating so hard that she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. And at the end of the day, it was Nathan Mackinnon, and he wanted to get to know her. Besides, she knew that he didn’t really date anyway, so she felt safe that there was one of them keeping their feelings in check. Eventually, she responds with a nod, “Sure.”
“Okay!” He said excitedly, his blue eyes lighting up, “Where are you from? Where did you grow up and go to college and stuff?”
“Nathan, that’s two questions. Should I deduct points from you?”
“There are points now?”
“I’m just kidding.”
And so, they went back and forth getting to know each other, talking animatedly, and laughing heartily, until they got through the 20 questions each. At one point, they had migrated to a table to continue sitting down because Nate noticed she was shifting on her feet from the heels. Charlotte was pretty certain that Nate now knew her better than anyone else in Denver.
Eventually, EJ came over and tapped Nate on the shoulder at which point she looked up and realized that most of his teammates and donors had left and they were a few of the last people remaining in the event space.
“Hey,” EJ smiled at you in his signature toothless way, “good to see you’re having fun, Charlotte.”
“Thanks, EJ,” she smiled back.
“Mac Daddy, you’re kind of my ride home, so… are you ready to leave?” EJ said laughing and looked at Charlotte, “I don’t think I’ve ever had to pull Nathan here away from a party before. He is usually begging me to leave.”
Nate bumped his elbow into EJ, not drawing much of a response, as he quickly looked away from her. She could have sworn his cheeks were turning a little pink, but that could also be the lighting.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s late and I want to be up for morning skate tomorrow, unlike you lazy idiots,” Nathan grumbled standing up.
She stood up too, only now realizing how tired you were. “Yeah, damn, it’s late. Well, I had a great time talking to you Nathan,” sending him a warm smile and a nod, “EJ. See you two later.”
As she started walking away, she heard some whispers behind her before Nate called out, “Hey, Charlotte, you good to get home? I mean, do you need a ride?”
“Oh, um… Actually… Sure. That would be nice. Thanks!”
She saw EJ whisper something in Nate’s ear before he was quickly shoved away. Suddenly feeling awkward, she trailed behind them quietly to Nate’s car. As soon as it was in sight, EJ called shotgun and started making a run for it, slipping a little on the ice, making Charlotte and Nate snort with laughter.
Nate offered a hand to guide her across the slippery ground and opened the car door for her, keeping his hand on her as she climbed in. She directed Nate to her apartment, thanking him and EJ quickly as she left. Once she got into her apartment, Charlotte leaned against the door and just smiled for a bit.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the car, EJ was basically yelling at Nate.
“Dude, you dog, what was that?”
“EJ, stop.”
“No, I’m serious. I’ve never seen you talk to someone for that long. Not even Barrie or Sid.”
“She was easy to talk to. And it was a good way to get through the event.”
“Nate, don’t give me that bullshit.” EJ’s voice is rarely serious, but it is now.
“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” Nate shrugged.
The rest of the ride to EJ’s house is quiet and as Nate pulled into the driveway, EJ finally spoke up again, “Tell me you at least got her number.”
“Shit,” Nate let out under his breath before he could stop himself.
“Oh my god, you idiot. You didn’t get her number.”
Nate let out a groan and tapped his forehead firmly on his steering wheel in frustration. As EJ shook his head, and said his goodbyes, Nate’s head was whirring with thoughts. There was no smooth way to ask for her number now. It’s like he missed an exit on the freeway and there was no way off now. The alcohol and the adrenaline meant he didn’t sleep much that night and, for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t make it to the optional morning skate, much to the surprise of everyone.
The rest of the season flew by as the team soared through the playoffs. Nate kept thinking about ways to ask Charlotte for her number but just couldn’t stop overthinking it and psyching himself out; eventually deciding to table the topic until after the season was over to focus on the Cup. But he reveled in every intermission or postgame interview where they got to talk, or the little conversations they would get to have in the arena or on the plane. Occasionally, he’d even slip in a hug, taking in her perfume, under the guise of celebration.
The gossip had now spread through the group — not surprising since EJ has never once kept a secret — and had been an ongoing chirp for Nate. It didn’t help that at the two galas since, Nate was the first one there excitedly scanning the room, but Charlotte wasn’t at either. He’d learn she was covering the Nuggets or the Rapids those nights and would then leave as early as possible.
It got even harder to not think about her as he neared the end of the season, where every phone call with his mom would eventually turn to his cousin’s wedding in the summer and whether he was going to bring a date. Family weddings were the one time he felt he couldn’t leave early, forcing himself to endure the suffering that was being single in your late twenties and watching people be in love. Not to mention all the comments and questions: wanting gossip, wanting a date, feeling sorry for him.
* * *
Charlotte was happy with the casual platonic friendship that she had found with Nate. She always looked forward to talking with him at games because he was always more relaxed with her than the other boys, even occasionally giving her a sweaty hug after a good, exciting win. Her co-workers had made some comments about how unusual it was, but she just chalked it up to them knowing each other better now.
The job kept her busy, busier than anticipated. And it felt like the year had flown by before she found herself at the celebration gala for the newly crowned Stanley Cup Champions. The atmosphere was different from the last event she had been to. That one was for schmoozing. This was only for celebrating. The energy in the room was intoxicating and she had a big smile plastered to her face as soon as she walked in.
Charlotte made her way through the crowd and congratulated everyone she saw and recognized. Eventually, she stumbled into Gabe.
“Congratulations, Gabe!” you yelled.
“Lotteee! Thank you!” he yelled back, pulling her in for a tight hug before spinning her around. He was so drunk, but he did look unbelievably happy. When he finally put her down, he grabbed her by the arm and very dramatically whispered in her ear while pointing, “Nate’s that way.”
She looked at him confused and surprised, but he didn’t let her say anything before not so gently pushing her towards Nate. And she didn’t protest, because when she finally saw him, she felt her heart speed up again. He looked jubilant, swaying slightly with EJ, face pink and hair messy. She had learned over the last month or so that she really liked the way he looked with the playoff beard.
Charlotte wasn’t sure whether to disturb whatever EJ and Nate were doing, but once EJ saw her, he let out a screech so loud she had no choice but to turn toward them. “Charlotte! Lotte! Lott Ness Monster! Come here!” But once you got here, he immediately left, vanishing to leave her standing in front of the very flushed Nathan Mackinnon.
“Hi Nathan, congratulations! Well deserved. It’s been an absolute privilege watching you this season,” she said, unsure what to do as her heart kept racing faster at the way drunk Nate was looking at her.
“Oh, stop with that professional speech and give me a hug,” he slurred, pulling her in tightly.
She chuckled and let herself enjoy the warmth and the firm contours of his body against her before forcing herself to pull away. He only let her get so far, leaving one arm still wrapped around her shoulders.
“It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself at an event like this,” she said softly.
“Well, I had to! You weren’t at the last two of these, so I had to find a way to entertain myself with EJ,” he said, pouting. She had certainly never seen him pout, but she was even more surprised that he noticed and cared.
“Oh! Yeah, I had work. Sorry.”
“I know. Who even cares about the Nuggets.” he mumbled under his breath before throwing his head back and yelling a quick “GO AVS!” that was followed by a loud round of cheers. After a few seconds, he piped up excited again, “Are you enjoying yourself today?”
“Um… I think so! It’s nice to see everyone so happy and energetic.” Her eyes scanned the crowd, smiling until she caught Gabe and EJ staring and pointing at them. Before she had the chance to ask Nate what that was about, he was pulling her towards Mikko on the other side of the room.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinks, laughs, and the warm firm feeling of Nate’s arm around her shoulders. With each passing drink, she found herself leaning into it more. She was sure her face was so red that it rivaled JT’s hair. But if the boys noticed, which they were too drunk to notice, they didn’t mention it. And even if they did, she doesn’t remember.
* * *
The next morning Nate woke up with the worst hangover of his life. He had collapsed on top of all his sheets fully naked, and so he also woke up with a slight feeling of shame and dread at what he might have done the night before. When he finally reached over to check his phone, it was blowing up with messages.
gabe the babe (INCOMING): dude did nate finally hook up with the lott ness monster
JT (INCOMING): omg nate, you have to tell us if you did
mooseman (INCOMING): he definitely did, did you not see how he literally didn’t stop touching her the whole night
Nate buried his head in his sheets and groaned, trying to rack his brain for memories of himself being an idiot around Charlotte last night. But he was drawing a blank. After minutes, he finally lifted his head again and opened a private text to EJ.
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): ej, please tell me you remember if I did something stupid last night
EJ (INCOMING): yeah. you did.
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): FUCK what did I do
EJ (INCOMING): you didn’t take lotte home with you you fucking idiot
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): what
EJ (INCOMING): you just fucking disappeared in an uber without even saying goodbye. and EYE had to make sure she got home okay
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): oh, well it could’ve been worse
EJ (INCOMING): HOW
EJ (INCOMING): HOW COULD IT HAVE BEEN WORSE
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): idk if I did something stupid or said something bad
EJ (INCOMING): dude, you have got to ask her out, you two clearly like each other
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): i have no idea what you’re talking about. we're just friends. we just work together. like you and me
EJ (INCOMING): YEAH RIGHT DOGG if you were touching me all night like that, we would be having a very different conversation ;)
EJ (INCOMING): please tell me you at least have her number now
Nate paused and thought back to the night before, but it was such a blur he didn’t know. But when he looked in his contacts, her number wasn’t there.
Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): nope
EJ (INCOMING): you are so fucking hopeless. i hope you find a pair at home this summer so you will finally do something about this crush
EJ (INCOMING): or maybe when we come back in the fall, she won’t be so single anymore and it won’t matter
Nate felt his stomach turn and he groaned. The hangover finally hit him but he was typing a sarcastic response when another message interrupted his thought.
Sarah (INCOMING): congrats again bro! are you bringing someone to the wedding?
Nate (OUTGOING): wow, really cutting to the chase this morning.
Nate (OUTGOING): and no.
Sarah (INCOMING): what you’re telling me a stanley cup winner can’t find a date
Nate groaned again and muffled a scream in his pillow. He knew that his sister and mom would not drop this subject from the moment he got home. He knew that they would probably try to set him on dates, or worse introduce him to every single woman at the wedding. He lay there, head on his pillow, for a long time, until finally, he had an absolutely insane idea. An idea that can only come to someone after the happiest day of their life followed by the biggest hangover of their life.
Nate (OUTGOING): fine, I’ll bring someone
Sarah (INCOMING): OH MY GOD WHAT WHO
Sarah (INCOMING): NATHAN RAYMOND MACKINNON IF YOU’VE BEEN DATING SOMEONE THIS WHOLE TIME AND HIDING IT FROM ME, I’LL KILL YOU. I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE WON.
Nate (OUTGOING): nope, not telling
Sarah (INCOMING): you are a child and i hate you
Nate (OUTGOING): I love you. See you soon.
Sarah (INCOMING): URGH
Sarah (INCOMING): Love you too. I’m calling mom.
* * *
Charlotte woke up with a splitting headache and the room spinning at 6 am. And despite how horribly she felt, she couldn’t get back to sleep. She could still feel Nate’s arm on her shoulder, and his lips against her ear as he whispered something unintelligible, and the scent of his cologne lingering on her hair would waft into her memory every few seconds making her heart skip. She was absolutely certain that he was more drunk than she was, and that he was a touchy drunk. She felt even a little guilty for taking advantage of his touchiness, getting as much as she could last night.
After a few hours of being unable to get back to sleep, she peeled herself up and drew herself a bath with a cup of tea. She still wasn’t able to stomach food yet, but she felt her body relaxing in the warm water, finally letting Nate slip from her mind. Eventually, she got up and padded around the house thinking about the long summer ahead. It was her first summer with not a lot of work to do, and since it was her first year in Denver, she also didn’t really know many people or have any concrete plans.
She had just sat down at her computer to research ideas when she heard a buzz on her apartment intercom. She looked down at her phone confused, but there were no texts there from the few friends she had made so far.
“Hello?” she stutters cautiously into the intercom.
“Oh my god, thank fuck,” a familiar voice rang back, “it’s you. I’ve been buzzing every apartment and I swear your neighbors think I’m a crazy person.”
“What?”
“Um. Oh. Sorry, Charlotte. It’s Nate.”
She was stunned silent. Stunned and confused.
“Um… Nathan Mackinnon…” He filled the silence nervously, “You know… From the Avalanche.”
That snapped her out of her trance as a laugh bubbled out of her. “Oh my god Nathan, I know who you are. Sorry. I was just confused. How do you know where I live?”
“Um, well when we first met, I dropped you off here. So, I made the gamble that you still lived here and just buzzed every apartment to see.”
“Oh. Wow,” she says, stunned, confused and flattered, “Um, is everything okay?”
“Ah, yeah.” He paused. “You know, I just realized how dumb this was. I’m really sorry to disturb you—”
“No!” she says louder than she intended, “No, Nathan, wait. Let me buzz you up.”
“Oh, okay, yeah! Thanks!”
She paced around her entryway, thoughts racing. The door knocks still startled her, and as she walked over, she looked down at her sweatpants and realized there definitely was no time to change and prayed she looked okay.
“Hi, Nathan,” she smiled, opening the door, “Um, do you want to come in?”
“Oh, sure,” he hesitates and makes a gesture to hug her before chickening out, pulling away and stepping past her.
“So, what brings you to my humble abode today?”
“Your apartment is cute.”
“Thanks. It���s not NHL superstar level, but it’s pretty good to me.”
He chuckles and leans a hip on the kitchen island, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His eyes were firmly trained on the ground. She wasn’t really sure what to say, so she moved behind him to start making them both some tea. He studies her as she moves around and wonders how it’s possible she looks so good in your sweatpants and messy bun when he feels like his entire guts might just drop out of his body.
Eventually, he spoke up, “Um, so I realized I didn’t have your number.”
This made her laugh, a proper belly laugh. “What,” she manages to get out, “you came all the way here because you don’t have my number.”
“Well…” he hesitates, “Yeah. I mean, I never asked for it I guess.”
“Okay, do you want it now?” she was still laughing.
“Um, yes?” He was shifting on his feet, rubbing his neck with his hand, leaning awkwardly on the countertop.
“Okay,” she reached a hand out.
He looks at her confused and gives it a slap.
“That was for your phone, silly. Not for a five,” she was laughing even harder now. And his cheeks turned bright red as he handed her his phone, not meeting her eyes. She passes the phone back to him along with a cup of tea, “There you go. So… What was the huge rush? You could’ve emailed me or something for it.”
He paused and laughed, “Honestly, I didn’t even think of that. I guess my brain doesn’t work very well when I’m hungover.”
Charlotte took a seat next to him on the kitchen island as they sipped their teas.
After a few minutes, he clears his throat. “Actually, that’s not why I came over. I mean it, but it isn’t the main reason.”
“Okay?” she encouraged.
“I had a really stupid idea and it was stupid at the time, but now I’m here it’s even dumber. So, I’ll just settle for the number.”
“Okay, Nathan, you can’t just say something that cryptic and not tell me.”
His face went bright red again and he shuffled in place. “No, it’s okay.”
“Okay, no. You don’t get to interrupt my hangover recovery and not tell me why.”
He sighed and looked away. After a while, he mumbled under his breath very quickly, “Fine. Icameheretoaskyouifyou’dcometomycousin’swedding.”
“What?” she said, not sure if she misinterpreted the mumbles or if she was dreaming.
“Um… Well, my cousin, back in Nova Scotia, is getting married in a few weeks. And my mom and sister keep bothering me to bring someone. And I just had this stupid idea. Because you’re the only person I’ve had fun with at those big events. So, this morning, in my post-Stanley Cup alcohol delirium I thought Hey, I should ask Charlotte if she wants to help me survive a social event and get my parents off my ass about not having a date? So here I am. But obviously, that was insane. So don’t worry about it.”
Charlotte looked at him, mouth open, in shock for longer than acceptable, and felt her own cheeks redden. A little lightheaded, before she could really stop to think, she responded, “Sure! I mean why not? What’s the harm in me going? I don’t have any plans.”
His head snapped up to meet her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and Charlotte is captivated by the way his sharp blues light up in response. It was when she saw the smile take over his face and her heart sped up that she knew this was probably a huge mistake. But a mistake she didn’t want to take back.
* * *
“So, how long have you two cuties been dating?” the fifth person in a row asked. Charlotte wasn’t sure if this was an aunt or a family friend, but she forced the smile back on her face as she responded.
“Oh, we’re not dating. We work together, kind of.”
The lady looked between the two of them, and Charlotte could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle again as she was acutely aware of Nate’s hand resting on her lower back.
“She’s here as my date, yes, but we aren’t dating. We’re just good friends,” he replies gently but firmly, the same way he had been doing all weekend, before changing the subject.
But she was lost in thought. She had been here for a few days, and she had to admit that Nova Scotia was beautiful, and Nate’s family and friends were wonderful. Despite not knowing Nate super well, she had never felt out of place. He had always made sure she was included in conversations, explaining anything that felt like an inside joke. She thought back to all the times she had met a boyfriend’s family — there hadn’t been that many, but enough to know that this was far better than any of them did.
Nate had been awkward and hesitant at first, jumping away every time he touched her by accident on the plane ride over and flinching when their knuckles brushed when he went to help her grab her luggage. But he slowly allowed himself to loosen up a little, reading her lack of discomfort as a good sign. He always prided himself on acting like a gentleman; even though women complained that he was stiff and unromantic, he tried. He found himself putting in an extra effort to hold open the door for her, to pull out a chair for her, to offer an elbow as she walked on the uneven pavement.
If Nate was in his head about every move he made, Charlotte was ten times more in her head. They had only really spent time together at work and work functions. And she wasn’t sure if that’s why something felt different here, more intimate, or if she was just imagining it. She was starting to feel like he was going out of his way to touch her; laying a hand on her knee when they were sitting next to each other, tapping her elbow to show her something, keeping a hand on her back when they were standing.
She had tried her hardest not to lean into his touch every time, but she couldn’t deny the comfort his large hand on her back felt—god, was his hand always this large. It was never too low as to be intrusive; just resting chastely on her mid back to remind her that he was there and was ready to take a break from the socializing at any point.
Whether she was imagining it or not, it was starting to drive her insane. Her skin constantly felt buzzing and hot, tingling in the places he touched, electrified in the places closest to him that craved his touch.
Nate’s low voice in her ear startled her out of her thoughts.
“Hmm?” she responded as she felt her neck and ear flush with the brush of his lips on her ear.
“Oh, I was just asking if you want to go for a walk,” he murmured, “you’re looking a little overwhelmed.”
“Yeah, sure,” she breathed, her voice coming out a little shaky with how close his tall frame was to her.
And so, she reached out and took his extended elbow as they slipped out of the rehearsal dinner and wandered down to the waterfront in silence.
“I can totally see why you love it here,” she finally said.
“Hmm?” he hummed.
“It’s beautiful. The water. With the lights reflecting. And all the beautiful trees. And the fresh air. I can understand why you love coming here in the summer.”
“Yeah, it’s truly something,” he looked over at her with an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were warm and soft. It looked like he wanted to say something for a second before he shook his head and looked away. “I’m glad you came with me. You make these big events bearable.”
“Just bearable, Nathan?” she laughed, trying to break the tension in the air she couldn’t really explain. And his chuckles were quick to join hers in the warm summer air.
And just like that, they fell into a comfortable rhythm again, laughing and chatting. Eventually, he walked her back to the hotel and their adjoining rooms.
“Well, here you go, m’lady,” he joked, letting his arm fall from her for the first time in a while. He began to turn towards his room but hesitated for a second before turning back and pulling her into a tight hug. She let herself melt into the hug, embracing the warm buzzing feeling in her chest as she felt his larger frame engulf her. He didn’t let go when she thought he was going to, instead whispering in her ear, “Thank you.”
“Thank me for what, Nathan?”
“For coming with me. For being so good with my family, even though they keep asking intrusive questions. For just being you,” he said, pulling back. They were standing so close together that she could see every shade of blue in his eyes as they looked at her intently. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to her lips briefly before the smallest sharp intake of breath he tried to hide as he untangled from her. She could feel her body ache a little as her cheeks burned.
She didn’t know if it was the glasses of wine or the dizzying tension, but before she could stop herself, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course, Nathan,” she murmured, “good night.” She smiled as she turned away and opened her hotel room door as quickly as possible.
She didn’t dare to take a peek back at him, but if she had, she would have seen his eyes wide, and cheeks flushed in shock. Instead, she quickly ducked into the room, shutting the door behind her, leaning back against the cold wood, and closing her eyes. What the fuck am I doing, she said to herself, Nate is a sweet guy, who I work with. I’m just doing him a favor. And he clearly thinks I’m just a good friend, as he keeps saying to everyone. Get it together.
She walked away and started getting ready for bed. It took her a long time to fall asleep that night, tossing and turning as her mind raced through the moments of the day, all the little touches and glances and the sparkle in Nate’s blue eyes.
* * *
The following day was the wedding, and the morning passed comfortably despite neither of them acknowledging the moment they both wanted to talk about so badly. Soon, she found herself sitting beside him in the church, watching the beautiful bride stand next to her adoring groom.
While the ceremony went on, Nate was having a hard time staying out of his thoughts as the celebrant talked about love and marriage and as the happy couple exchanged adoring words with each other. It was not that he hated weddings, not at all; in fact, he loved them. He loved the celebration and the emotion. But as the years went on, it became a stunning reminder of what he did not have. With every wedding and every failed relationship in between, he felt more alone, like maybe something was wrong with him.
Charlotte noticed that Nate seemed emotional, lost in his thoughts. She had no idea what was going through his mind, but she could sense that he was troubled. At some point during the ceremony, when Nate found himself particularly emotional, he had reached his hand over and grasped hers. She had to try hard to hold back the small gasp that threatened to escape her lips. But seeing his troubled expression, she squeezed his hand. And, inexplicably to her, his hand never left hers, not during the rest of the ceremony, or the walk over to the cocktail hour space. He only reluctantly let go to help her to her seat once they got to the reception.
Although they both enjoyed the reception food, they had both been so deep in their own thoughts that their conversation with the table was stilted and almost awkward. Eventually, as the night wore on, and the gentle fuzz of liquor started to take over, they both started to relax. Nate, after starting and stopping for almost 15 minutes, finally asked her to dance; his heart rate racing as she excitedly nodded yes.
Which is how they found themselves on the dancefloor for over an hour. At first, it was awkward. They were standing a foot apart, dancing independently; she, laughing at Nate’s horrible dance moves, and Nate, feeling electrified by the way her body moved. Eventually, they got closer and closer together until they were swaying in each other’s arms to some horrible Mariah Carey song, making snide remarks in each other’s ears and not caring how obnoxiously loud they were laughing at the jokes.
A few drinks later, their inhibitions were lowered enough that she found herself with her back against him. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she leaned into his warm, towering figure. Both of them were no longer sure if they were intoxicated by each other or the drinks, but they did not really care. After they were grinding to a Doja Cat song, she swore she felt something press against her back, but she was not sure as Nate swiftly excused himself to use the bathroom.
And that’s how she found herself at the bar by herself.
“Nate really likes you, you know?” she heard a voice say beside her. When she looked over, she saw his mom giving her a knowing glance.
“Oh, Mrs. Mackinnon, we’re just friends,” Charlotte managed to choke out, despite feeling her throat tighten.
“I know, sweetie, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be more there,” she smiled, laying a soft hand on her forearm. She had never felt herself sober up faster.
“I appreciate that, but we do work together,” she strained.
“Please, call me Kathy,” she continued, not acknowledging Charlotte’s weak protest. And when she did not respond, Kathy added, “You know, I’ve met a number of his girlfriends, and he had never looked at them the way he looks at you. Or even treated them the same way. He’s barely left your side since you got here.”
“Kathy, I’m sure that’s not true. You have raised an amazing son. I’m sure he is just as kind to anyone.” She could feel her cheeks feel heat as she started scanning the room, desperate for Nate’s return.
“Sweetheart,” Kathy spoke softly, “I have been married for many years. There is only one reason a person looks at someone the way he looks at you, and that’s love. If you feel the same way, you should tell him. Don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short.”
She smiled as her husband came to stand next to her; and before Charlotte could protest again, she gave her a gentle hug before walking away, leaving her standing there with her head spinning at her words.
Charlotte gripped the edge of the bar and downed her drink in one go once the bartender handed it to her, earning an eyebrow raise. She jumped and let out a little squeak when she felt a warm hand press into her back.
“Woah, it’s just me,” Nate joked before he met her eyes and his brows furrowed, “are you okay?”
“Um, yeah,” she croaked out stiffly.
“Are you sure?” he stepped in closer which only made her stiffen more, “You seem… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable?”
“What?” she tried to say calmly, although it came out an octave too high, “What makes you say that? Nope. I’m fine.”
He furrowed his brow more and leaned back, confused, before removing his hand from her back and stuffing them in his pockets. There was a twinge of sadness in his eye as he looked around, unsure what to do. “Okay, then. Do you want to go back on the dance floor? Or I guess not. We could sit back at our table?”
“Yeah,” she said awkwardly, finding a normal tone again, “Table sounds good.”
They sat in silence for a bit, just watching the other guests dancing, both deep in thought. She was stuck thinking about what Nate’s mom had said. If she thought about it, she could totally understand why an outside observer would see their relationship as something more than friends. But if Nate had feelings for her, why did he so insistently refer to her as his “good friend”? And even if he did like her, she wasn’t sure about the implications for her job. Was she going to get fired? Probably not, if she was upfront with HR. But she was new to the city and relatively new to the field. What if people started to see her as the girl who ‘goes for the stars’ or the girl who’s ‘just here to get in some rich athlete’s pants’. She had worked too hard not to be taken seriously now. And maybe if things worked out, it would eventually blow over. But if it didn’t work out… If it didn’t work out, she wasn’t sure what would happen, but she felt it would be bad.
Meanwhile, Nate was panicking; combing through every moment of the evening, trying to find where things went wrong. He was finally feeling like he had an idea of how she felt. Like maybe if he told her his feelings, she would reciprocate. Did he go too far with the dancing? Was Drunk Nate too caught up in the moment and did something inappropriate and unwanted? Nate was never much of a verbal processor — he preferred to stew on things first, — and maybe it was the remnants of the alcohol lingering in his system but he felt the words trying to bubble up in his chest. He didn’t even know what the words would be; maybe words to explain how he felt about her, to make sure he didn’t do something wrong, to make sure she was okay.
When she finally felt the grip on her chest loosen and the thoughts begin to slow a little, she snuck a quick glance at Nate. His jaw was set firm, and brows furrowed. He was staring into the crowd on the dancefloor, but he was clearly not watching them. He looked tense, and she could see the panic she felt reflected on his face. She found herself reaching out and taking his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze; a move that clearly surprised him as he jumped a little before smiling and relaxing into it.
“Nate, I’m actually getting kind of tired. I’m thinking of heading back to the room. Did you want to stay longer?” she said gently.
He squeezed her hand back and gave her a small smile, although the worry hadn’t left the contours of his face yet, “No, I’m actually ready to head back too. Come on.” He pulled her onto her feet.
They took the ten-minute walk back to the hotel in relative silence, tethered together by their interlocked hands. Nate spent the whole walk back planning his speech; he was going to tell her how he felt because he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Holding hands with her just felt so right. But for her, despite how nice it felt, it caused an overwhelming sense of panic to rush back through her. It was nice. It was too nice. It was going to ruin everything.
Stepping out of the elevator, the words escaped her lips before she had the chance to hold them back. “Nate, I think this was a mistake,” her voice was barely above a whisper. He froze beside her and managed to choke out a “What?”
“Nate,” she said, pulling her hand away from him and backing towards her door, “This is giving me a taste of what I can’t have. And this friendship… I don’t think I can do this.”
“What are you talking about?” he replied, still stuck in the spot where she left him, his voice louder than he had intended.
“The touching, the holding hands, the being sweet… It’s too much,” she said, unlocking the door, not meeting his eyes.
“What—” he repeated, his voice cracking at the end. Her mind didn’t process that the pain she felt was echoed in his voice.
She sighed, stepping into the doorway, “I can’t do this, Nate. Because if we keep doing this, I’m going to fall in love with you. And I can’t do that while being your ‘good friend from work’. So, I’m going to bed. Good night.” She finally met his eye as she stepped back to shut the door, barely registering the way his face flickered from hurt to confusion to shock to hope.
Charlotte rested her forehead against the door and let out a shaky breath. She could feel the tears form and slide down her face. She tried to convince herself that it was the right move, but the only thing she could hear in her head was the sound of Nate’s mother’s voice saying ‘Don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short.’ What if Kathy was right? What if protecting herself from pain was causing more pain itself? What if it would work out? As she stood there, she listened for movement on the other side of the door, but she heard none. Was that hope she saw in his face there? If it was, what did it mean?
Before she could finish the thought, she heard shuffles and a rapid knock on the door that startled her. She didn’t know why, but she opened it without hesitation.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I did something earlier that made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry if I'm crossing a boundary now but I would never forgive myself if I didn't say this," he said, looking at her with concern. When she nodded, he continued speaking.
He confessed to her that he had never been this person before, love-struck and irrational. He had always been calm, detached, and calculated, but with her, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help being rash, like inviting her to the wedding or reaching out to touch her and be close to her.
She had told him that she couldn't do this because she was scared of falling in love with him, but he revealed that he might already be in love with her. He had been saying that she was just a friend and a colleague because he was scared, but he had never felt this way before and was afraid he would mess it up.
During the wedding ceremony, he looked around at everyone and realized that he had won the Stanley Cup this year, but he still felt off. He kept thinking about her - how her laughter made him want to make her laugh again, how her smile warmed his chest, and how he could still feel the tingle where their skin had touched even after she left.
He admitted that he had never been sure if he had truly been in love before, and maybe this was it. He thought they owed it to themselves to find out because he believed she might feel the same way. He knew it might not be the most rational decision, but it was everything he had to say.
Feeling a shaky breath escape her lips, she heard the voice in her mind, "Don't stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short." For the first time on this trip, she felt her mind still and smiled as she closed the distance between them. With her chest pressed to him, she looked up at him, admiring his soft and nervous blue eyes. She reached up to cup his neck and met him in a kiss.
The kiss was gentle and soft at first, as she chastely felt their bodies slot together; his hands finding her waist, and hers fisting his suit jacket to bring him closer. After not long, she felt Nate run his tongue along her lip and she allowed herself to deepen the kiss, conveying the emotion that was hard to put into words. The feeling of his firm hands against her waist and his muscular body against hers again made her feel as though she were on fire. And she had to admit, she liked this quite a lot. Eventually, they disconnected and rested their foreheads together as they took in the moment.
“So, are you going to say something?” Nate whispered.
“Yeah, uh, ditto,” she whispered back, giggling slightly.
“That’s it?!” he leaned back in mock horror, “After I poured my heart out, that’s all you have to say?” She could see a smile tugging at his lips.
“Well, I think for the first time in your life, you have spoken enough words for both of us, Nathan,” she laughed as she gave his chin a little pinch, drawing a laugh from him as well. She leaned back in to place another firm kiss on his lips before saying, “I like you a lot too. Like a lot a lot. It scares me. But, as the kids say, you only live once, and I need to stop being scared and just see where this goes because I think I might be in love with you, Nathan, and I need to find out if I am.”
He smiled broadly; it’s the smile she loves, the one where his nose scrunches a little and she can see the genuine happiness on his face. And as their lips rejoined, she slowly started to pull him back into her hotel room.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” he says, disconnecting their lips briefly.
“Uh, right now? Sure, I guess,” she raised her eyebrow.
“Why do you always call me Nathan? Everyone always calls me Nate.” The question catches her off-guard and she laughed as she continued dragging him into your room.
“I was trying to remind myself to stay professional and not fall for you,” she laughed as she felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed.
“Right…That worked so well, I’ll have to remember that one for the future, Miss Charlotte,” he laughed back before kissing her again so deeply and passionately that she forgot whatever retort was on the tip of her tongue.
#Nathan mackinnon#colorado avalanche#Nathan mackinnon imagine#Colorado Avalanche imagine#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#avs#Nathan mackinnon fic#Colorado Avalanche fic#avs imagine#avs fic#hockey imagines#rox writes
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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
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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
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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
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Nathan Mackinnon Top Five Birthday Countdown
#2 Playoff Nate 🔥 - yuh he on x-games mode
“Amongst players who have played as many playoff games as Mackinnon has, he ranks third all-time in points per playoff game, behind two guys you may have heard of: Wayne Gretzky (1.83 points/game) and Mario Lemieux (1.6 points/game). Plenty of Connor McDavid fans probably raised an eyebrow at Makar’s “best player in the world” quote from last night, but when you keep company like that during the moments that matter most….it’s difficult to argue against the notion that MacKinnon is the best hockey player on Earth.” x
playoff season unleashes a whole different beast
+ this iconic toe drag
gifs made by me
#went off#that article where the quote is from is one of my favs 🔥#nates birthday countdown#nathan mackinnon#colorado avalanche#my gifs#birthday edit
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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
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Dating Nathan MacKinnon Would Include:
Soft.
Soft words and touches.
Nate lives a hectic life, so he prefers to keep your relationship soft.
Cuddles. He likes to have you curled up on his chest, both in bed and when watching movies on the couch.
Since he’s away a lot for hockey, when you’re together, he doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or stop touching you.
He feels better playing when he knows that you’re in the stands. And you love going to his games and cheering him on.
He loves it when you wear his jersey. He finds it so fucking hot.
He tells you that he loves you a lot and does a lot to show you that he loves you because he really needs you to know that he loves you.
One of the ways he does that is by buying you things.
Oh man he loves to spoil you. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. Jewelry, that bag you saw in the window, flowers whenever he comes home, etc.
Part of that is also because he feels like he doesn’t deserve you and is constantly trying to “prove” himself to you.
You pick up on that and keep subtly telling him and you love him and are not going to leave him, but he doesn’t stop.
Constant phone calls/FaceTime/texts when he’s away.
You can always count on him to make you laugh when you’re feeling down.
Anniversaries and birthdays are important to him, so you better be ready for more presents and a romantic dinner.
He’s quick to jealousy, too. But, he won’t say anything about it, but you can pick up on it and happily remind him that you’re his ;)
Tagging: @pucksandpoutines @aw-hawkeye @caswinchester2000
#nathan mackinnon#nate mackinnon#nathan mackinnon imagine#nathan mackinnon x reader#nathan mackinnon x you#nate mackinnon imagine#nate mackinnon x reader#nate mackinnon x you#mine#nhl#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl requests#hockey#hockey imagine
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wait and see by marmolita
cover art by @crosbyism
Words: 30,458
Fandom: Men's Hockey RPF
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Nathan MacKinnon
Characters: Sidney Crosby, Nathan MacKinnon, Kris Letang, Marc-Andre Fleury, Gabriel Landeskog, Erik Johnson
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Age Difference, Friends to Lovers, Dom/sub, Slow Burn, Obedience, Collars, diet and exercise control, but not in a bad way, this is the least kinky bdsm au I've ever written, Non-Sexual Kink
"You know how every summer you joke about how I should collar you, for the league rule?"
"Yeah?"
Sid shoots a sideways look at Nate, but Nate is just sipping his beer, not looking back. "What if I took you up on that?"
Read it on AO3!
#sidnate#sid x nate#hockey rpf#nate x sid#crosby x mackinnon#fanfic#cannot believe it's finally done and that I wrote 30k words of this haha#hope you all enjoy!
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The Fall of Home
~The Fall of Home by Los Campesinos!~
Author's Note: idk honestly it's mostly word vomit ngl Italics are flashbacks
Summary: Nate wins the cup and needs his childhood best friend to celebrate with him
Warnings: Swearing, implied smut, shouting
Word Count: 3,990
Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader
She sat on the couch watching the dying minutes of the Stanley Cup finals. She watched Nate push Gabe towards the bench, her heart beating hard against her chest. It was t0o close. Not enough to feel as though they had done it. The Avalanche jersey covering her frame had Mackinnon on the back. It was Nate’s old jersey from his first few years in the league before the Avs switched to their new ones.
Her childhood best friend had done it as the last ten seconds of the game the puck was in the Avs offensive zone.
It was like watching in slow motion as she watched the bench itch with anticipation as the clock winded down from five seconds. The buzzer goes off and the entire team throws their gear everywhere as they cheer and scatter on the ice. Her hands cover her mouth as her eyes well up in tears.
It had been his dream since the second Nate realized what hockey was. She watched him pretend to lift the cup on the lake behind his house countless times. Now in mere minutes she would get to see it done in real life. Except it is on her TV.
Her fiance smiled widely as he hugged her side. “The cups coming back to Scotia!” Daniel mumbled as he kissed the side of her cheek. She smiled politely as she stared at the screen seeing Nate on the screen.
Daniel didn’t know that Nate and herself grew up next door to each other or that he was her first kiss. Or the first person he called after he got drafted first overall. Or the fact that they act like they're in a relationship every time they see each other again. Cuddling, kissing, dinner with each other’s parents.
And sex. A lot of it.
Except Nate hasn’t been home in two years. His family has gone and visited him in Colorado instead. She visited him once in Denver and stayed with him, in the same bed. Except nothing happened between them because of Daniel. Daniel entered her life during a difficult time. It was two months before COVID really went rampant. They went COVID crazy and moved in together right when the lockdown happened. His idea.
Nate stayed in Colorado, despite many of his teammates using the time to visit and stay with their families. But she had Daniel. She didn’t need Nate.
Except she still missed him as the months progressed and the further they had time apart it was as if the feelings she had for him were getting less and less suppressed. But he had a new life, new people, new and better successes. Hell. He just won the Stanley Cup.
She even had a new life. Sure, it was still in the same community she grew up in but she had Daniel and a life that she’s supposed to be happy about.
“Are you crying?” Daniel questioned, a small furrow in his eyebrows. She shifted her gaze towards him for a brief second as she blinked rapidly. She looked back towards the screen to see Nate get handed the cup.
“Cole Harbour, you got another cup!” the announcer shouted as Nate shook the cup in the air with a wide smile on his features. She hasn’t seen him smile so wide since he was drafted.
“It’s just-look at ‘em,” she was referring to Nate.
“Yeah, they’d deserved it from the beginning,” Daniel said as he stood up from the couch to get another beer.
She watched as Nate handed it off to Jack Johnson, a player who’s waited over a thousand games to achieve this. She tilted her head back as she wiped the tear that fell onto her cheek.
~~~
It had been several hours later and multiple Instagram story reels that have kept her up as she watched the team celebrate. She remained on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand. Her phone screen lit up with a call coming from Nate. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as his contact photo popped on the screen. It was a picture of them back in his Halifax days. He was kissing her cheek, sweaty and still in his jersey.
Pulling the phone to her ear, it was loud on his end of the phone. “Y/N!” Nate shouted, “I need you in Denv-ver, when I get there tomorrow!” he shouted. He sounded blacked out. She smiled to herself, happy to hear his voice. His voice was practically gone but it was still amazing to hear. “I need to see you, we’ve got to-to celebrate,” he slurred.
“Ask me again tomorrow,” she said laughing, “Enjoy your night Nathan,” she said, getting ready to hang up.
“Wait! Wait,” he chuckled, “I’m sorry you couldn’t come to Tampa, I wanted you here so bad,” he explained, the words taking forever to leave his lips. “Bu-but you’ve got a fi-fiance,”
Her features scrunched together as his voice was rasped as he was fighting hard to get the words out. “What does Daniel have to do with-”
“Because-” he hiccuped, “Because he has you and I don’t,” he let out. Her eyes widened as the words left his lips. Her stomach began to do flips as the words played in her mind on repeat.
“Because he has you and I don’t,”
“Because he has you and I don’t,”
“Because he has you and I don’t,”
“Oh dude, come on! Give me the phone, Nate! Give it to me. We said no drunk calling!” Erik’s voice rang out on Nate’s end of the phone. “Sorry, Y/N. He’ll call tomorrow when he’s sober!” Erik’s voice was closer to the phone as he spoke.
“Oh okay,” she mumbled as the phone call ended. Her hand began to shake as she pulled the phone from her ear. What the hell did he mean by that?
It was hard to take anything he said seriously because he was drunk, he probably won’t even remember calling her. She brought her wine glass to her lips as she drank it all in one swig.
She lifted her gaze from her lap to the sound of loud footsteps coming from her hallway. “Baby, we’ve gotta get up early for that thing with your parents tomorrow. Remember? Come get some sleep,” Daniel said, his voice groggy from probably just waking up.
She met his eye, praying for an ounce of butterflies or a feeling in her chest that told her he was the one. Or the spark that everyone talks about when you meet your soulmate. But nothing came out of it. She took a deep breath as she nodded, “Yeah, I’ll-” she cleared her throat, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“So, things are pretty serious with him,” Nate mumbled as he messed with his fingernails, avoiding her gaze. She hummed as a reply as she avoided meeting his gaze.
She was laying in his king sized bed in his apartment in Denver, contemplating on why she decided staying with him was better than a hotel. Because all she wanted to do right now was kiss him. It’s been three hundred and forty three days since she last kissed him and she missed the feeling of his lips on hers.
“Why didn’t he come with you to visit me?” he asked, turning his gaze to her trying to read her features. She pulled her lips between her teeth as her eyes widened slightly. She took a sharp breath before looking towards him, her eyes landed on his bright blue eyes. His eyes were slightly swollen as he was recovering from a broken nose still from a few weeks back.
“He doesn’t know that we’re friends,” the last word difficult to leave her lips, “He just thinks that I’m on a trip with friends to Denver to see a few games,” she explained. Nate fought off a smirk on his lips as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
“How’s your mom keeping that secret? If I remember correctly all our childhood photos together are all over the living room,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
She chuckled as she inched towards him, slightly. “My brother decided to have four kids in the span of three years. So she replaced all of our photos with my niece and nephews.”
Nate let out a huff of air as he shook his head, “I don’t envy him. Triplets, right?” he asked and she nodded.
“They’re adorable, but a handful,” she muttered.
She met his gaze as she took a deep breath. He smiled softly as he adjusted the pillow under his head. “Is he a Penguins fan or Avs fan?” Nate asked, referring to Daniel. It was common in their small community to be either a Pittsburgh Penguins fan for Sydney or a Colorado Avalanche fan for Nate.
She scrunched her features together and Nate’s hand hit his chest like a fake dagger. “You couldn’t find an Avs fan to date?”
She rolled her eyes playfully as she laid onto her back, forcing her gaze to the ceiling. “You should get some sleep,” she muttered.
Nate laid facing her still, admiring every detail about her. The way her hair laid across his pillow. The curve of her lips and the flutter of her eyelashes. “Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper, his heart racing. She turned her head to meet his gaze. His eyes trail from her eyes to her lips. Needing to kiss her but he couldn’t. Nate was not one to make moves on someone else’s girlfriend.
But this was Y/N. She was everything he’s ever wanted. Even down to the fake wedding they had when they were nine, it was the first time they kissed. They were nine, kisses at that age barely count but it was the first of many.
She met his gaze, pursing her lips forward slightly as she watched his eyes flicker between her lips and her eyes. “He’s lucky to have you,” he let out finally. She smiled softly, “But I’ll beat the shit out of him if he hurts you,”
“You would knock him out with one punch, he’s not very strong,” she muttered as he chuckled.
The next morning she was woken up by Daniel shoving her awake, “Wake up,” he mumbled as he began pacing in their bedroom. She rubbed her hand across her eyes as she was adjusting to the sudden touch to her body. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, shoving his phone into her face, she pulled her hand away as she stared towards the Facebook post that her mom shared early this morning.
It was hard to read as his hands were shaking, “What-”
“What the fuck is this?” he asked again, dropping his phone onto her chest. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked over the Facebook post.
The caption said From the lake behind our houses to the big stage! Our family couldn’t be more proud. Can’t wait to see the cup in your hands this time! #GoAvsGo #NateDogg
She cringed at the wording but her breath caught in her throat as she saw the collection of photos she added. Each photo shows Nate with her family. Majority of them with Nate and Y/N cuddling cozy and even one of them with him kissing her cheek. “Daniel, I can explain,” she said as she began to stand up from the bed.
“How fucking long were you going to keep this a secret?” he accused as she dropped his phone onto the mattress. Her mouth opened as she tried to find words to say. There was nothing to say. “I mean his contact photo in your phone is him kissing you!”
“Wait, you went through my phone?” she countered as she looked at her phone in his hands.
“No, he called you and I saw the picture. I mean, is the jersey you wore last night his? Like off of his fucking back?”
“I never wanted to lie or keep it from you. What was I supposed to say? Oh by the way, my best friend growing up is now this super famous athlete, I never see anymore.” she expressed.
“He’s not your best friend, all these fucking pictures your mom posted is you two looking coupley. This one is from a year ago when you were in Denver, I mean what the actual fuck. Have you been cheating on me?”
“What no! Will you stop shouting and sit down and have a conversation?” she countered. He shook his head while taking a deep breath. He reluctantly sat down beside her on the bed, refusing to meet her eye.
There was silence for a moment, “Nate and I grew up beside each other. We were born four months apart, our parents are best friends. He was my first friend. We had a weird relationship,” she hesitantly looked towards him, he was still fuming. “We were never in a romantic relationship but,” she let out a huff of air, “Sometimes it felt like we were?”
“I haven’t seen him since the last time I was in Denver, and nothing happened between us. He knows about you and Nate would never even try anything,” she explained. He shook his head.
“So what? You guys have had sex?” he questioned. Her mouth clamped open and shut and he groaned. “I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me!”
“He’s my past, Daniel, he doesn’t matter!”
“But he was a huge part of it! And clearly still is! He’s called you like four times!” he let out as he stood up from the bed. “And you know what, I don’t want to be with someone who keeps such a massive part of their life secret. I’ll move my stuff out by tomorrow,” he expressed, furious. He took a hold of his phone and stormed out of the bedroom.
“Daniel!?” she called out. She let out a huff of air before switching her gaze to her phone that was now lying on the floor.
“You look at those fucking photos and tell me how to feel!” Daniel shouted again. “I can’t compete!” he said before he left.
She tried to feel something for Daniel leaving. Her body was stiff as her mind was racing with thoughts of Nate. Instead of Daniel. She was wrong. He does matter. He always has and despite all of the time apart, he was still so important to her.
~one week later~
She laid in the bed that she once shared with Daniel. He moved out the next day from the apartment after several more fights regarding Nate. He took the ring from her finger and threw it out of the window. Y/N knows she should’ve told Daniel about Nate. It was easier having him be a celebrity in her life than someone she loved. Someone she loved in more ways than one.
She’s spoken to Nate every day since they won. He would call twice. Once in the morning to recap the drunken things he would say well into the night. His drinking slowed down as the weeks progressed but he’s been celebrating every day since. Each night he would call and beg her to come see him in Denver. Every night she would consider it until she would realize he was too drunk to remember. She’d always leave it out the next day they’d talk.
She laid naked beside him as she traced her manicured finger along his chest. Tracing each line of his muscle, each outline. His hand fluttered his fingertips along her skin. He would trace his index finger from the base of her neck in a zig zag to her lower back.
“When do you go back to Denver?” she questioned barely above a whisper. He took a few seconds to reply as he continued the pattern on her back.
“Tuesday,” he let out, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to her. She lifted her head to look down towards him. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his softly. He lifted his other hand from his side and rested it onto her cheek. “This might be the last time I’m back here for a while,” he let out as he stroked his thumb across her skin.
She raised her eyebrows teasing as she pecked his lips, “Let’s make the most of it then,” she muttered between kisses. He smirked into the kiss.
It was sensual and slow, something they’ve perfected over the years as if they know exactly what the other person wanted. Nate pulled away from her lips, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you a lot,” he said as his hand on her cheek moved to the base of her neck. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Her cheeks heated up as she smiled.
“Me too,” she mumbled as he leaned towards her, kissing her.
She shook her head as her phone began to vibrate beside her, she lifted her phone up to see Nate was calling her. She took a deep breath as she put the phone to her ear. “Hi,” she mumbled.
“Come to Denver,” Nate said simply. His voice groggy as if he hasn’t spoken much yet. Pulling her head back against the pillow, she scrunched her features together.
“What?”
“I know you and Daniel broke up, I don’t know why you won’t tell me about it. But all I know is that I’ve been trying to see you because my dream has just happened and I want my best friend to be with me. The other half of this conversation can’t happen over the phone, so please come to Denver. Don’t make me wait till I bring the Cup home, please,” he let out as if he’s rehearsed it.
She was stunned. Her eyes blinked slowly as she swallowed hard. “How’d you know about Daniel?” she asked, ignoring the rest for now.
“Y/N, our mother’s still live next to each other and they talk a lot. Come to Denver, I’ll book your flight. I just really need to see you,”
“Okay,” she let out faster than how her mind could process anything.
“How fast can you get to the airport? I want to give you enough time to pack and get ready,”
~~~
She was walking through the airport in Denver trying to find Nate. It took about thirty minutes for her to find him sitting near the passenger pick up doors. He lifted his head, as if he could sense she was close to him.
She stopped as she saw him stand slowly from his seat, shoving his phone into his pocket. He was glowing. It’s been over a year since she last saw him in person but her entire skin began tingly when she saw him as every moment between them played in her mind like a flipbook.
Every kiss. Every intimate moment. Every conversation. Hockey games she wore his jersey to. Her graduation from university he flew from Denver to see. Their very first kiss at nine years old, their fake wedding.
She walked towards him and he began walking towards her. Once they met, she let go of her suitcase and her carry-on bag and jumped into his arms as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he squeezed her tightly against his chest. He took a sharp breath, breathing in her floral perfume. Her hand rested on the base of his neck, running her fingers through the small pieces of his hair.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered into her ear before she slowly pulled away from him, his hands remaining on her hips.
“I just spent way too many hours on two airplanes, don’t lie to me,” she muttered as she met his eyes. They were brighter as well as his smile. He was happier than he’s ever been.
“Still beautiful,” he mumbled as he pulled her against his chest again.
~~~
It had been a few hours since she got to Nate’s apartment. She had showered and got rid of the airport smell from her body and they were now sitting on his couch watching an action movie he had picked out. They were quiet but there was a looming tension between them.
“What happened with Daniel?” Nate asked, keeping his gaze on the screen, trying to avoid looking towards her. She dropped her gaze to her lap, the conversation they’ve been avoiding.
“The day after you guys won the cup, my mom had posted something on Facebook,” she said as she let out a huff of air.
“I saw, it was nice,” he mumbled, Y/N fought off a smile.
“He felt blindsided because he didn’t know that we knew each other. Or knew each other that well and you had called a few times before I woke up and he saw my contact photo for you,” she paused again.
“He claimed I was cheating on him with you and he thought when I visited you in Denver that I cheated on him with you. He then threw my engagement ring out of the window and stormed out. Stayed with my mom that night so he could get his stuff out of my apartment,”
“What the fuck? He threw your ring out of the window? That’s a dickhead move,” he said while shaking his head.
“I mean, not telling him about us was a dickhead move too, Nate,”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him,” Nate muttered, shifting his gaze to her. She tilted her head to the side as her lips fell into a pout as her eyes lowered to his lips before she met his gaze again.
“What did you mean when you said ‘he has you and I don’t’?” she asked him. His eyes widened as he pressed his lips together.
“You remembered that?” he asked. She nodded. “I’ve always thought one day we’d end up together, married with like four kids or something. I always thought one day I could convince you to move to Denver with me. Or after I retired we’d start a life together. But you started dating Daniel. I realized I waited too long. And I was going to go back to Halifax during those first months of COVID. But you were with Daniel, I couldn’t be around you and him. So I stayed in Denver.”
“And then he proposed and I lost my chance. I lost my chance because I wasn’t going to make a move on you when you were with him. So, I thought that if we stayed apart, I stopped visiting home, these feelings would just go away. It’s worse, Y/N.” he muttered as he scooted closer to her, forcing their faces to be near inches apart.
“I think sappy romantic stuff is bullshit. But Y/N, you’re my soulmate. I’m in love with you, have been in love with you long before I even knew what love meant,” he rested his hand on her cheek, “At fucking nine years old, I knew who I wanted to marry and seventeen years later I still know who I want to marry. It’s always been you.”
She delicately rested her hand on his chest as she smiled, “I can’t believe you did that math so fast,” she teased. He rolled his eyes playfully.
“Shut up,” he muttered before he pressed his lips against hers urgently. She returned the kiss quickly as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him as her hands were holding his cheeks.
“I was scared,” she muttered as she pulled away, “I was scared that you’d become this famous athlete and forget about me. So I pulled away,” she mumbled before pecking his lips. “I’m in love with you too.”
He smiled as he kissed her again. “Best fucking year,” he let out.
#nathan mackinnon#nathan mackinnon x reader#nathan mackinnon imagines#nhl imagines#nhl#nhl x reader#nhl fic#hockey#colorado avalanche#colorado avalanche imagines#cale makar#cale makar imagines
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monday morning - nathan mackinnon
the boys win the Stanley Cup and you end up in bed with one of them
pairing: nathan mackinnon x reader
warnings: mention of alcohol, mention of sex (not quite explicit but more than implied - yk my brand by now), sex that takes place after both parties have been drinking (if this is a trigger feel free to skip! take care of yourselves my loves)
word count: 1.2k
a/n: hey besties long time no see, hope yall are doing well. one week ago, the colorado avalanche won the stanley cup and you know a bitch couldn't resist a post-win fic <3 s/o to @antoineroussel for being the only one awake and telling me when i'm being pretentious
Monday morning you wake with the feeling of cotton balls stuffed down your throat and a heavy body weighing you down into the mattress. For a moment you can’t quite figure out where you are or how you got here—it’s quite difficult to make sense of anything as you burrow your head back deeper into the pillows and keep your eyes squeezed shut.
Wiggling your toes, you assess the damage, but it’s almost impossible to move under the weight on top of you. Said weight starts to shift a little in its slumber you assume, and that’s when you come to realize whoever is on top of you is one, naked, and two, very very heavy. One of his wandering hands slides from its place by your side up to rest on the underside of your boob and that’s when you realize a third thing—you’re naked too.
The night before comes back to you in bits and pieces—the longest five minutes of your life at the end of the third period, someone screeching in your ear at the final buzzer, placing your hands on the ever elusive lord stanley and then drinking shitty beer out of it with the half naked team who’d won it half an hour before. Linking arms with some of the better halves and stumbling out of a hostile arena into an even more hostile city, and yet finding a club/bar more than willing to take your—well, not yours specifically—”dirty” money.
Shots and then more shots and then more shots. If you think hard enough, you vaguely remember doing a body shot off André. Somebody pressing a water into your hands and you pretending to take a large slip before leaving it on the closest bar top when they turned around. Sliding in real close into… someone’s embrace shortly after and then staying there for the rest of the night. You can picture their muscled shoulders and feel the heat of their calloused hands and yet their face remains beneath a dark cloud in your mind.
“You wanna go back to mine?” whispered in your ear and wandering hands and giggles turned whines turned moans turned toes curling and nails dragging down backs. Chapped lips and a bearded face and praise shared like an oath.
But who?
You’re afraid to open your eyes, afraid to face whoever is in your bed or maybe whose bed you’re in, afraid you won’t like who you find or afraid you will and they won’t want you too in the fresh morning light. You know it’s a hotel room—or at least you’re pretty sure it’s a hotel room based on the feel of the sheets beneath you and the too fluffy pillow that’s got your neck at an uncomfortable angle.
If you had it your way you’d never find out whose hotel room it is, but ultimately you don’t have much of a choice. Not when the mysterious not-quite-stranger presses a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck before rolling off of you with a groan.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he says, punctuated by a small exhale of breath that can only be indicative of disbelief.
The feeling of your chest constricting is timed perfectly with the way the rest of the night flashes by—EJ leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek, Mel crying into your shoulder, one too many Jägerbombs.
And then Nate.
Nate lifting you into his arms on the ice and shouting about how they finally fuckin’ did it, Nate’s everlasting eye contact as he tips the Stanley Cup so that the alcohol falls into your awaiting mouth, Nate’s front pressed to your back on the dance floor, Nate’s arms feeling like home when you didn’t know which direction was left and which direction was right. Nate leading you to his hotel room, fingers brushing the 1787 numberplate before turning their attention on you.
Stumbling into Nate and kissing him and running your fingers through his hair and along the beard on his jawline—”this is so sexy”—getting your hands on him and pressing and pulling and prodding until his naked body covered yours on the neatly made bed. You’d teased him for it, asked him if it was a superstition or just his good manners that had him making the bed on the most important morning of his hockey career yet. He’d only kissed you quiet.
And then a moment of clarity in the drunken, lust-fuelled haze where he’d pushed back the hair from your face and asked if you were sure. When you’d told him you’d never wanted anything more, he’d told you without shame that it was a tie between you and the cup, and he’d ‘already won the cup tonight.’
It sends tingles down your spine to remember the way he looked at you last night. A look you’d previously seen hours earlier, looking around at the boys after the final buzzer, and then pushing his captain towards it only to hold it minutes later. Like you were the Stanley Cup, like you were the culmination of two and a half decades of hard work and perseverance and overcoming adversity, like you were the thing he’d spent his entire life waiting for.
“The cup and the girl...fuck am I ever lucky,” he speaks again before pulling you so that you lay half on top of him this time. You finally open your eyes to see that very same look still on his face. “Good morning.”
“Hi,” you say, suddenly very shy and wanting to disappear into the covers. You push down the urge to run for the nearest hill, tentatively placing your hand on his chest above his heart. When he covers it with his own you find the courage to speak again. “How did you sleep?”
“I think I’m still drunk,” he admits with a laugh, “but I’ve never slept better.”
“Better than Landy?” you ask. “Bet he slept naked in EJ’s hotel room with the cup between them.”
Nate laughs out loud at that and you preen under the sound. “We’ll get our turn to sleep naked with the cup.”
“We?” you ask hopefully, tentatively. Despite the look in his eye and the fact that he has yet to let you go, you’re not the kind of girl who makes assumptions or gets her hopes up. In fact, you’re the very opposite—more likely to assume the worst in any situation, and you in fact do so now.
“I think I made myself pretty clear last night,” he smirks and you remember the gentle way he regarded you during sex. “I’m not a man of many words, we both know that. But you have to know how I feel about you.”
His hand cups your face and his thumb gently skims your cheekbone before your lips are pressed together.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nathan mackinnon x reader#nathan mackinnon fic#nathan mackinnon fanfic#nathan mackinnon fanfiction#nathan mackinnon imagine#nathan mackinnon imagines#shelb writes
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Nathan Mackinnon as a dad. Make it rot your teeth fluffy like cotton candy. Plzzzz
CONSEQUENCES OF MY OWN ACTIONS
okay, i hope this lives up to your standards.
tw: children, nate's injury (i'm not trying to like romanticize this in any way.)
patrick had been excited all day. the only thing he could talk about was going to see daddy play in person. he, of course, had been to games before, but whenever he was able to go, he was always so excited.
"daddy?" he asked from the backseat.
"yeah, patty, we're gonna go see daddy." you nodded, looking at him through the rearview mirror.
"yay!" he cheered, clapping his hands excitedly, then turning to his stuffed animal and talking to it as if it were a person.
you had done your pregame ritual whenever you were able to attend games. you could stand up by the glass, and patrick and nate would do their special handshake. nate would blow tons of kisses, toss you a puck, then skate off.
patrick sat in your lap during the game, pointing out everything he saw. he watched as his dad skated towards the middle of the ice, and watched as taylor hall hit him and watched as his dad fell to the ice, unmoving.
your eyes were glued on the ice a patrick tried to get your attention and ask what was wrong, "momma." he tugged on your sleeve as he held his stuffed animal close.
"pat, you wanna get a snack?"
"no." he shook his head as tears filled his blue eyes, the same as his father. he looked back up at you, and climbed up, wrapping his arms around your neck and holding you close.
"it's okay, pat. daddy's gonna be okay," you reassured, having no clue if what you were saying was true. you watched as a trainer was rushed on to the ice and watched them check on nate.
you closed your eyes when you spotted the blood and inhaled deeply, "breath." someone told you.
you held your breath until you saw nate get up and skate off the ice. he didn't seem to have any upper-body injury, the thing that was stressing you out the most was the blood dripping off his face and still on the ice.
after it was announced that nate wouldn't be coming back to the game, you began to gather your things. you shot everyone a tired smile as you carried patrick down to the tunnel.
he ran ahead of you once you reached the medical room, "daddy!" he announced his presence loudly.
"hey, little man." nate put on a smile, but you could clearly tell he was in pain.
"how're you feeling? what's the verdict?" you looked from nate to the person checking in on him.
"well, we won't know till x-rays are taken, but what i can tell you is you are concussed. that's all i can diagnose you with for now." you sighed, rubbing your forehead, "i'll give you a moment." he politely smiled and exited the room.
"jeez, nate." you mumbled.
"are you okay, daddy?" patrick asked.
"yeah, i'm okay." nate nodded. he glanced over at you and saw you were about to have a heart attack.
"you promise?"
"i promise." nate nodded, pressing a kiss to the boy's head.
later that night, after was patrick asleep, you walked back into your bedroom where nate was sprawled out on the bed, trying not to fall asleep.
"what do you want to watch?" he asked.
"whatever is fine," you answered absentmindedly.
nate noticed your behavior when you walked into the med-bay room, "hey." he grabbed your attention, "i'm okay." he stated.
"no, no..." you shook your head.
"yes, i am." he cut you off, grabbing your hand, "i mean, i'm a little concussed and my nose is broken, but i'm okay."
you took a deep breath, "when you went down, i almost died."
"well, it was my fault."
"not the point." you hit him softly in the shoulder, "my point is everything went silent. it was like everything stopped. people were talking, pat was trying to get my attention, and he was scared."
"you're okay." he pulled you into a hug as you tried to calm down, "it's okay." he ran a hand through your hair and pressed a kiss to your head.
this isn't really dad!nate, but it is fluffy :)
#nathan mackinnon imagines#nathan mackinnon imagine#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 avalanche blurbs#colorado avalanche fic#colorado avalanche#taylor writes#taylor writes: hockey#taylor's blurbs
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