Can I request "Please, tell me what I did wrong.” for Andre Burakovsky?
3 – “Please, tell me what I did wrong.” - Andre Burakovsky
786 words.
This one got a little angsty (with a drunk Andre) so I hope you like it!
~
There was something about trying to avoid Andre Burakovsky that was just about impossible in the summer. All your friends were his friends. Every lunch and dinner was attended by you both. Every party was a party he was at. Just like tonight, where you arrived with your girls and spotted him almost immediately.
It was only down to the grips your friends had on your arms that you didn’t turn on your heel and leave.
All of it was becoming a bit too much, if you were being honest. You just wanted a bit of peace, not a reminder of last summer’s flirtation that fizzled out before it could even start. It wasn’t fair, but you knew you only had to suck it up for a couple more months before he left again. You could handle this.
You could totally handle this.
What you couldn’t handle, apparently, was trying to keep up with your friends drinking. It only took you a few hours to need a break from the shots and the drinking games, and you didn’t waste any time stumbling outside, letting the cool summer evening breeze hit your overheated body. As you closed your eyes, savouring the cooler air, you grimaced at the sound of someone throwing up, and turned around to see someone bent over a bush, vomiting and heaving.
Well at least you weren’t a bad as that poor soul.
But just as your luck would have it, the pitiful drunk stood up, and your saw Andre’s miserable face as he swayed where he stood. Fuck, he was really out of it. And there was no-one else outside – there was no way you could leave him on his own.
Damn it.
“Hey, Andre, try to sit down yeah?”
He whirled around at the sound of your voice, immediately losing his balance. You didn’t it to his side in time before he fell on his ass, groaning to himself, but you were able to help him sit upright, propping his head up against a tree. He took the tissue you offered him from your handbag with a grimace and a nod, wiping his mouth before spitting into it, shoving it into his pocket after. That would have to do.
“Feeling better?” you asked awkweardly.
“Not much,” he mused.
The slurring in his voice was so heavy that it scared you, so you sat down on the ground too, facing him with your legs tucked to your side.
“I didn’t think you’d talk to me again,” he said quietly.
Ouch.
“I couldn’t leave you alone like this,” you said, wincing at your own words.
His weak smile fell completely. “Please, tell me what I did wrong.”
If he wasn’t so drunk right now, you’d think he was being facetious. But this was Andre, the boy you’d always known to wear his heart on his sleeve. He deserved honesty, if nothing else.
“Last summer…I thought we were building something. But I was never interested in something casual, and you made it clear you were only looking for a bit of fun,” you said simply.
“I didn’t think I could get anything else!”
You were ready to be indignant, but the misery on his face threw you for a loop. “What?”
“It’s the only thing anyone ever wants from me,” he mumbled.
Oh Andre. That was really how he saw himself? Was that really how people saw him? Had he really just given in to what people expected from him, rather than what he really wanted?
“That’s shitty, I’m sorry,” you said, smiling sadly at him.
“Not your fault. It is what it is,” he sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes briefly.
“Hey no,” you said, resting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing until his eyes opened, “You shouldn’t be resigned to that, you’re amazing.”
“You think I’m amazing?”
Oh boy.
“I think this is a conversation for when you’re sober,” you said gently.
The last thing you wanted was to spill your feelings and for him not to remember a thing.
“Might be a while before that happens,” he said, huffing out a laugh.
He looked over at you, eyes bleary but not wandering, head tilted but not lolling, and it made up your mind.
“Why don’t we grab some bottles of water, and go for a walk? See if anywhere is serving food?” you suggested.
It was unlikely at this time of night, but it couldn’t hurt Andre to walk around getting fresh air, or to drink some water. It definitely couldn’t hurt you at least.
“You’re coming with me?” Andre asked, surprised but hopeful all the same.
“Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.” With burky please
STUPID FREE AGENCY
this is trade themed. let's all cry together.
TAYLOR'S AVS NIGHT!
31. "look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said." (from this prompt list, angst)
"look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said," you demanded.
"i got traded to seattle." he repeated, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
you stared at him in shock, trying to find words, "traded?"
"yeah." he winced.
"stupid free agency," you muttered.
"yeah, stupid." he laughed, "you're taking this better than i thought you would."
"i'm about ten minutes away from having a full-on mental breakdown, so just you wait."
you decided to put off moving till the end of the off-season, so you went on vacation, visited family, and got to spend your day with the cup.
when you got back to the states, instead of going back to colorado, you went to seattle instead to tour apartments. it took you about two weeks to find the perfect apartment.
after successfully signing the lease, you flew back to colorado and began packing up all your stuff. it was bittersweet. you were leaving your home for the past 3 years.
the place was fully furnished so all of that was taken care of (because you were only going to be there during the season). you walked around the city and got a feel for it.
after spending the entire day exploring, you sat down to a nice dinner, and it finally settled in that you were moving here and this would be your life now.
"it's nice here." andre broke you out of your thoughts.
"yeah." you nodded, "but it won't ever be as nice as colorado."
"i know." he smiled sadly, "but it'll be fun. starting a new life here."
Warnings: Fluff, injury, anxious reader, sad Burky. IDK nothing crazy
Summary: Dating Burky has it’s highs and lows.
A/N: Okay so I wrote this at 11pm and I haven’t edited it at all but I also couldn’t stop thinking about this so here you go! Let me know what you think!
Family skates with the Avs was a special time for everyone but especially the players. This was a time that families would get to spend a few precious moments with their player since they rarely had the chance to see them during the season. It was also a time where most players introduced their significant other to other members of the team and their spouses. André wanted to use this as an opportunity for you to meet the whole team. His parents were unable to make the trip to attend the skate so he wanted you to meet his other family. You and André have been dating for a couple months, well mainly talking since he was on the road most of the time. What dates you were able to have together had been great and left you craving more of his company.
With nerves fluttering through your system you bundled up in your winter jacket before going to your living room and grabbing your phone. Before you could check to see if you had and messages a knock sounded on your front door. Your boots clunked across the hardwood floor like the rapid beating of your heart. You wiped your sweaty hands on your pants before grasping the cold door handle and opening the front door. Your breath rushed out as you took in the man before you and his heart breaking grin.
“Hey you,” he smirked as heat blossomed across your cheeks.
“Hey! I’m almost ready, let me grab my purse,” You said as you backed up allowing André entrance to your apartment.
André waited by the door while you rushed back to the living room. You quickly gathered your things and made your way back to him.
“Ready?” he smiled down at you.
“Yeah! I’ve actually never skated before so this is a first for me” you responded as you locked the door behind the two of you.
When you turned around André was looking at you like you had grown a second head.
“What?” you asked
“Why didn’t you tell me you haven’t skated? You can’t date a hockey player and not ice skate!” he said as a grin spread across his face.
Laughing, you both made your way out of your apartment complex. André opened the door to his car for you and once you were situated he shut it before making it around to the drivers side. The car started with a purr as warm air pushed out of the vents which warmed you from the cold Colorado air.
André turned to look at you, “I bought you something… It’s not much but I hope you like it,” a pink colored his cheeks at the admission and he turned around toward the backseat reaching for something. He returned to the driver's seat with a giant box before smiling and handing the box to you. As you opened the box a gasp fell from your lips. Inside was a Colorado Avalanche jersey and hat with a pair of brand new skates.
“André! Thank you! This is awesome!” you exclaimed, unable to hide how excited you were. This gift might seem small to most people but this was André letting you into his world. Not only would you be meeting his teammates but you would be meeting them with his name on your back.
“I had to claim you before anyone else beat me to it,” he laughed, just as excited as you were.
Nerves began to really sink in once you and André were walking into the rink. What if his teammates didn’t like you? What if the wives and girlfriends didn’t like you? What if you embarrassed him? André’s thumb brushing across the back of your hand drew you from your anxious thoughts.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, just a little nervous”
“Ah don’t worry they will love you. Promise.”
You both made your way into the arena. Staff milled about everywhere but André didn’t stop to talk to anyone until he made it to the locker room. The locker room was crowded. People milled about everywhere, some with jerseys on and some with skates on or in the process of being on. It was kinda crazy at how many people were crammed into this area and it made you even more anxious. You prayed you wouldn’t embarrass André in front of all the people.
André tugged you across the room until you stood in front of one specific locker with the name “Burakovsky” on the nameplate across the top. You turned to André and laughed at the huge smile across his face. He looked just like a child showing his prize to his parents and his happiness was infectious.
“This one’s mine.” he smiled, “Lets get your skates on.”
You sat in his locker stall before he crouched in front of you. You kicked your shoes off while he worked on loosening the laces on your skates. Once the laces were loose André lifted your foot into the skate and tied them before repeating the process with your other foot. He stood up in front of you and held his hands out to you, pulling you to your feet. You wobbled and André’s hands quickly settled around your waist to steady you.
“You good?” he asked
“Mm huh,” you nodded.
“Good, you can’t forget this though.” he smirked as he held his jersey out to you. As gracefully as you could without falling you slipped into his jersey. Once you were steady André sat in his stall and quickly put his skates on.
Once that was done you both made your way out of the locker room and to the ice. André stepped onto the ice first before turning and reaching for you. You took one step before your stomach dropped as you felt your feet slip. André was quick to steady you.
“I got you,” he said, his breath fanning your face. You didn’t realize how close you were until that moment. His brown eyes searching your face and for a moment you thought he was leaning closer.
“Ay none of that Burky!” a voice called out. You pulled back, adjusting your jersey as embarrassment flooded your veins. You almost had your first kiss in front of an entire arena full of people.
Slowly André pulled you around the rink. Cold wind whipped across your cheeks and laughter bubbled into your chest as his skates dug in and pulled you faster and faster. The two of you were so wrapped up in each other you didn’t notice anyone else.
In a split second the joyous moment was broken. One second you were laughing at André’s childlike behavior and the joy across his face and the next you felt something hit you hard. You didn’t have time to brace yourself or register the horror across André’s face before you collided with the ice hard. Seconds later, once no major pain registered, you opened your eyes to a frantic André.
“Y/N! Y/N! Are you hurt?” his eyes searched everywhere followed by his frantic hands. “Baby, Y/N, can you hear me?”
Your eyes quickly snapped to his eyes as you nodded, “Yeah. yeah. I’m okay”
You moved your limbs checking for pain before moving to sit up. André was quick to help, one of his hands supporting your back as you sat up. A small whimper left you as the pain in the back of your head registered. Before you could turn to André to tell him your head hurt a little he was yelling at someone. Moments later another person crouched in front of you.
“Hey I’m just going to check your head really quick. That was quite the fall!” he said.
You just nodded before he shined a light in your eyes and asked you some questions. Soon enough he explained to you and André that you had a small bump on the back of your head which would probably be tender for a couple days and you might have a small headache. André had been quiet the whole time, tension radiated from him as he listened but it ebbed as the trainer explained nothing major was wrong.
Once the trainer had walked away André turned to you with a tight smile.
“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he asked and you nodded.
André quickly scooped you up from the ice and skated toward the rink door. Embarrassment bubbled in your stomach. You had managed to do the one thing you didn’t want to do, you had embarrassed André in front of his second family. No wonder he was so upset, he probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after this. He was quiet as he made his way back to the locker room. He placed you in his stall before crouching in front of you to take your skates off. It broke your heart seeing him so sad.
“André, I'm okay. It’s okay”
“Yeah” he said as he gave you a tight smile.
Your stomach sank at his reaction. With your skates off you stood and waited for him to remove his. The walk to the car and the drive home was quiet, it was a stark difference from the trip to the arena. André politely opened your door and walked you to your door. Your hands were shaking with nerves, you didn’t want this to be the end of your relationship. You had quickly grown attached to André, he warmed the dark parts of you and you didn't want it to end. Your hands were shaking so bad you were struggling to get the key in your front door. André placed his hand over yours and pulled the key from your hand.
“I can help” he said as he put the key in the lock and opened the door.
You both made your way into your living room, you shed your coat and shoes as you made your way to your couch. André stood in the living room doorway, his coat still on as sadness poured from him. Silence blanketed the two of you until André cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry. I can understand if you don’t want to see me again” his voice breaking at the end.
Shock filled your system and you jolted to your feet. The quick movement caused your head to thump and you couldn’t hide the wince that sliced across your face. André quickly moved in front of you, his hands hovering as if he was afraid to touch you.
“André, why wouldn’t I want to see you again? I embarrassed you in front of everyone.”
“No, I should’ve been quicker, I should’ve seen him coming and I didn’t. You got hurt because of me.”
Realization flooded you as the words he said registered. He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at himself for getting you hurt.
“André I’m fine I promise, just a small headache.” You stepped forwards and reached for his hand. “I very much want to see you again.”
His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign that you weren't telling the truth. He must have found what he needed because his whole body relaxed as his arms came around you, pulling you to him.
You melted into his chest as his warmth spread through your body.
“No more getting hurt,” he mumbled against your head.
A smile tugged at your lips as you nodded against his chest. “I’ll try,” you promised.
André pulled back from you, looking down at you before inching closer. His hand settled on your lower back and the other against your cheek pulling you closer to him. Anticipation of what was about to happen buzzed through you and the moment your lips touched you knew you were where you were meant to be. You were home.
André Burakovsky Helping You Relax During Finals Would Include
André never experienced a post-secondary exam, so he doesn’t really know what they’re like, but he can understand through you that they aren’t great.
He’s really good at reading when to leave you alone to study and when he should step in so you don’t fry your brain.
(You do the same thing with him and hockey)
When he leaves you alone, he’s usually just in the other room doing his own thing, going through game tape or watching the tape on the Avs’ next opponent.
He keeps checking on you, making sure you’re okay.
When he needs to get you to step away, he comes over to you and puts his head on your shoulder.
“It’s time to take a break.”
“No, I still have things to do.”
“I know, but you need a break. I made you tea/coffee, come sit with me for a while, you need a break.”
But André knows that making you take a break and drinking a hot drink isn’t going to help you relax.
Not when you were that stressed.
That tense.
He knew that he needed to do more to help you relax ;)
He starts by trailing a hand up your thigh.
At first you didn’t think anything of it until his hand was basically on your core.
“André…” You trailed off, not knowing what his plan was.
“Let me,” he said softly before pushing you back against the couch.
You gave him an odd look still not knowing what he was planning on doing.
André just sunk down to his knees and slowly pulled your pants down before spreading your legs.
He ate you out slowly.
Taking his time, drawing all the moans and whines he could from you.
He paid extra attention to your clit.
And maintained eye contact for most of it.
You couldn’t help tugging at his hair as you begged him to go faster.
He didn’t.
He brought you to your orgasm at his pace.
And it was one of the best orgasms of your life.
You were completely boneless afterwards, all the tension and stress gone.
“Better,” André mumbled against your thigh before he pulled your pants back up.
You were much more relaxed after that.
And André was sure to keep up his work throughout your finals.
I had some ideas of this and can’t write a whole fic (yet - I need to practice writing) so I decided to write these down and share if someone would like them (or get some inspiration!) :’)
doing housework!!
humming along to songs he has playing from the speakers while doing something
some older pop songs are there too + maybe something swedish
singing along
“weeee are never ever eveeer getting baack together”
cooking and the kitchen is still there afterwards
focusing so hard that nothing goes wrong
measuring everything precisely so that nothing will go wrong
(you’re not allowed in the kitchen so you peek from around the corner)
“no i don’t need any help”
trying to make the food look like in restaurants
with the sauce splashes etc
doing the dishes and getting dish soap in his hair
yes that’s possible
baking a cake and flour is found e v e r y w h e r e
looking very cute with flour in his hair after trying to wipe his hair away from his forehead (one could ask how he gets everything in his hair but...) + he smiles goofily so he’s looking extra cute
wiping his hands on his dark-colored pants, and so there are flour handprints
“andre, that’s why people usually use an apron”
tasting the cake and icing and everything before continuing because “you have to be sure it tastes good”
being so proud of the cake and sending photos to the boys and flooding his ig story with videos of the cake
cleaning the kitchen again (after a remark) and humming
changing the bedsheets and battling with fitted sheets (c’mon, he would, just for a show anyways)
folding laundry and dancing
making up songs from what he’s doing
“here is a t-shirt flip it like this, fold it like that, then put it down and you’re done”
“this sock here has no pair, what to do for it.... to find a pair?” & dramatic acting “to find a pair or not to find” + you facepalming at him
“wiping the table that’s made of maple” “andre that table is not made of maple” ... “WIPING THE TABLE THAT’S MADE OF MAPLE”
Request (anonymous): Andre B...92 and 100? Thanks!!
A/N: This is set during the 2017-18 season because the trade dynamics would’ve messed with the premise of the story. This is for all of the romantics out there—don’t ever give up on love ❤️❤️
Warnings: Two swear words, insecurity, mention of divorce
Word Count: 1.1k
“Oh my God, that was fucking hilarious!” Andre managed to choke out through a fit of laughter, and you felt the vibrations because he had his arm around your shoulder. He turned his head to you and said, “This movie has to go down as one of the best we’ve ever watched, don’t you think, Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you said without any real conviction in your voice.
You were having your weekly movie marathon with Andre in his apartment like you always did, so you should’ve been happy, but you weren’t.
Andre had been your best friend since you moved to Washington, D.C. for college in 2015. On the day you met him, you were close to finishing your first semester at GW. You were in a rush to get to your 10AM Anthropology lecture, but you had stopped at Starbucks to get some much-needed caffeine first. You weren’t watching where you were going when you ran out the door, so you didn’t notice the Swede entering the coffee shop at the same time as you were leaving. You crashed into him and spilled coffee all over his white t-shirt. You apologized profusely, but he was very nice about it and introduced himself. Before you knew it, you agreed to bail on class to have coffee with Andre Burakovsky.
Spilling coffee all over Andre’s shirt turned out to be one of the best things you had ever done. To everyone else in D.C., Andre was a breakout forward on the Washington Capitals, but having grown up in Connecticut, you didn’t know much about hockey, so you treated him like a normal person. You had friends at GW, but you hadn’t found a group of like-minded people who you wanted to be friends with for life. Both of you needed a best friend, and by the time you finished your coffee (Andre had insisted on paying over your objections), a lasting friendship had been born.
Before long, Andre introduced you to his teammates, and when you returned to GW for the spring semester, you sought out and joined a small newspaper on campus that allowed their writers to have creative freedom. You found real friends both at the newspaper and within Andre’s circle of friends and teammates.
The past two years were a dream, and you had never been happier in your entire life. So why were you not content with your friendship with Andre?
You knew the answer but tried as hard as you could to ignore it. You wanted Andre to be more than just your best friend.
You had first started developing feelings for Andre about six months ago when you were at a party Andre was throwing in his apartment. Both your friends and his teammates were there, and they were all remarking on how you and Andre were yin and yang. Andre had blushed furiously, while you came to the realization that Andre could be more than a friend. You really did complement each other perfectly. You had a fiery personality and refused to let him blame himself when the Caps lost games or he was in the middle of a scoring dry spell. Andre, meanwhile, both had a calming presence about him and made you laugh more than anyone else you knew.
After the party, you noticed Andre sought out physical contact with you more often, whether it was holding your hand or putting his arm around you. You found that whenever you and Andre were with friends at the club or in one of your apartments, it was like Andre was the only person in the room. You wanted nothing more than to be his girlfriend. You fantasized about going up to him at the club one night, taking his hand in yours, and leaving together. All of the signs pointed to you and Andre being on the same page, so why didn’t you make a move?
The truth was, you were too scared. Your parents had gone through an acrimonious divorce when you were young, immediately putting you on guard. After a bad relationship in high school, you were convinced that love wasn't meant for you. Andre was the first person you had feelings for in at least three years, and having believed that you weren’t capable of finding love for so long, your newfound feelings scared the shit out of you. It didn’t help that Andre was one of the most sought-after single guys in the NHL, and you knew that if you started a relationship with him and it went badly (or even if it went well), you would get a lot of hate.
It wasn’t like Andre made any real efforts to be in a relationship with you, either. Other than the increased physical affection, he seemed to be waiting for you to make a move.
So that’s how you ended up in a stalemate, sitting on Andre’s couch while watching a movie, pretending as if nothing had changed when in fact, everything had changed.
“Y/N?” Andre waved his hand in front of your face. “Are you all right? You’ve been spacing out for five minutes now.”
You blushed, embarrassed that he caught you daydreaming. “Sorry, I was just thinking about a sociology project due next week,” you lied.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Andre flashed an easygoing smile in your direction, “I just wanted to tell you a story.”
“What’s it about?” you asked.
“So last night, I had a really vivid dream.”
“And…” you prodded him.
“And in the dream, you and I were dating.”
That was about the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
An awkward silence settled over the room, but Andre spoke again before it became unbreakable. “You know, I think I know why I had the dream. It was a sign that I have to tell you the truth.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
Andre took a deep breath. “I like you, Y/N, and not just as a friend.”
You could’ve sworn time stopped in that moment. “Really?”
“Yeah, I think we would make a pretty good couple. I mean, only if you think that, too—”
“I do,” you interjected. “I mean, I feel that way about you too, Andre.”
Now it was his turn to look surprised. “So you like me? You really like me?”
You giggled. “Yes, Andre, I really, really like you.”
Andre’s smile somehow got even wider. “I want to take you out tomorrow night. What does your schedule look like?”
“Hmm…” You pretended to think it over. “For you, it’s wide open.”
Andre laughed at that, and you joined in. Before you knew what was happening, Andre leaned forward, closed the distance between you, and connected your lips together in a passionate but gentle kiss.
You could see it now: you and Andre were meant to be in love after all.
Andre has always joked that he would get your name tattooed on him. This freaked you out. What if y’all break up? Then what will he do? You know that your relationship is going really well. You guys have been together for 4 years. Every time he brought up the tattoo, you always got the “what if” questions in your head.
It was after the Capitals won the Stanley Cup and Andre was out celebrating with his teammates. You decided to stay home because you wanted to have a rest day. Andre told you that he was going to get a tattoo dedicated to his family and the Stanley Cup, but what he didn’t tell you was about his secret tattoo on his chest.
You heard the door open which meant that he was home. You were in the kitchen finishing the spaghetti you made for dinner when Andre’s arms wrapped around your waist. You could smell the alcohol on him, but you didn’t care. You turned around and hugged him back. Andre kissed your forehead, your nose and then made he way down to your lips. You kissed him back with a smile. When you pulled back from each other, you remembered about his tattoo.
“Let me see your tattoo babe.”
He unwrapped his arm from your waist to show you his new ink. You admired the new tattoo with a smile.
“Hmm… the font could be better. It looks really good. Welcome to the tattoo club, baby. Did it hurt?”
Andre shook his head and said, “Not really. Only when they went over it the second time. You should have seen Jakub though. He was close to tears.”
You started laughing because you could picture Jakub on the bench whining about how much it hurts.
“I got another tattoo besides this one…” Andre seemed a little hesitant because he wasn’t sure of your reaction.
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
Andre began to take off his shirt to show you. On his chest was your name written in your handwriting from a letter you wrote Andre congratulating him on winning the Stanley Cup. You were there for the game and the celebrations, but you wanted to write him a letter that he could keep whenever. After you gave him the letter, he kept it folded in his wallet reminding him how much you love him and how lucky he is to have you in his life.
“I had them trace your handwritten name. I put it above my heart because I love you and will always love you. I know how you don’t want your name tattooed on me because it’s permanent, but you will always be permanent in my life. I can’t imagine you not in my life. I know in the future that we’ll be married and have kids running around the house. Maybe I’ll even get their names tattooed on me. I love you (Y/N). You mean a lot to me.”
Tearing up at his words, you were speechless. Andre was worried about you reaction because you haven’t said anything after he explained himself. Shaking your head, you went on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss.
“I love it. I love you. I want to marry and have a family with you, too. Please don’t propose to me now though. We’re still not done celebrating you.”
Andre laughed before kissing your cheek. You made two plates of spaghetti and headed to the dinner table. The only noise was a song playing in the background and you guys eating. You laughed softly and shook your head.
“I still can’t believe you got my name tattooed by your heart.”
