pairing — connor bedard x fem!reader | established relationship
note — IM TERRIFIED TO POST THESE CS ANOTHER WRITER HERE HAS MADE A LOT OF RLLY GOOD BEDSY BF TEXTS AND I DONT WANNA SEEM LIKE IM REHEATING THEIR NACHOS 💔 an idea js came to me and i knew i had to share it to the world so pls dont come for me HELP also this might be rlly bad and my excuse is that its been a hot minute since i made anything like this so. and unfortunately im not that funny but i had a giggle making these
warning(s) — "lets see sum" mention, swearing, there's one where reader is drunk, there's one where connors at a hospital, using baby as a petname, mostly gn except for a one detail, lmk if there's more
synopsis: with everything going on with connor, you're feeling stressed. luckily, he's one to know a thing or two about stress relief.
warnings: none
wc: 517
After a long week dealing first with Connor’s injury, then with his surgery, saying you were tired was an understatement. You were caught up in a whirlwind of back-to-back medical appointments, driving him there and back and there again. It was exhausting trying to stay calm for him, to be the rock holding him down in such a stressful time. Everything was happening so fast, and you just wanted to numb your mind for once.
It happened in Vancouver: an awkward fall on his shoulder against the boards. You immediately had to fly back to Chicago, completely disrupting your summer plans. Then the calls with the team came, and the appointments were scheduled. His unsigned contract left on the kitchen counter right next to the open bottle of painkillers. It was all too much for you. The stress was eating you alive.
“Hey, babe?” he calls out from his spot on the sofa, sitting right up on doctor’s orders to prevent pulling on his shoulder joint.
“Yeah?” You call back from the kitchen. You were trying to get some work done while eating a snack. You had been glued to your seat at the island for an hour. Or two. Time flew by too fast to count the hours. You hesitated as you stood up and walked over. Injured boyfriend needs.
“Literally just come here. I swear to god, you’ve been at it for three hours. I know how fucking stressed you are, baby, so let me take care of you.” He took your hand in his. Large and warm.
“Con, you’re the one with the fucked up shoulder. I should be taking care of you.” You argued.
“Wow, thanks for reminding me.” He rolled his eyes, “That doesn’t matter right now, Y/N. You mean so much more to me than my stupid shoulder ever will. I love you, and I want you to be happy. If you’re stressed, I’m stressed. That’s what we’re all about. So, Y/N, my love, the light of my life: forget about my stupid shoulder and please give me a kiss. You’re so fucking strong, baby.” He squeezes your hand.
You release his hand from your grip, careful not to disturb his left shoulder (currently in a sling, cryotherapy unit attached) as you leaned in. You cupped his face, staring into his deep blue eyes, gaze turned on the stupid smirk on his face. Finally, you kissed him, eyes fluttering close. As you did, all the stress and tension building up inside of you seemed to have disappeared. All the thoughts racing through your mind went away. Everything numbed, and the only thing in your brain was Connor. His weird hockey player scent filled your nostrils, and everything was Connor. You were completely enthralled by him. The kiss deepened, and as it finally ended, you felt strangely lighter.
You looked into his eyes once again, and then glanced at his shoulder, letting out a small giggle. There was too much going on there, with the sling and cryotherapy unit.
