multi fandom

16+ pls! asks are open! currently into: nhl masterlist

[writingisbetterthandying]

welcome!

been on tumblr for long time...covered a lot of ground...

i write every once in a while! usually very self indulgent, not edited, etc. but i'm always lurking...

currently in an nhl phase, still into f1 to some extent

my faves: dr3!! lh43!! jb22!! qh43! bf7! cs55! ln4! sc87! mv33

[writingisbetterthandying]

knoxville thoughts bc self care 😋 fem!reader

- calls you sugartits, angel face, sweet pea, babydoll, love bug, and honey in the thanks portion of 2.5 he’s ej kropp, both like to joke abt you being mrs kropp

- calling him foxy knoxy, jammies (pj -> pajamas -> jammies), honey, babe, and big daddy for the giggles

- every year for his birthday getting him “pj’s for my pj” swoon

- i love the idea of knox with like the cpa at dickhouse so it’s a lot of puppy dog eyes as he tries to convince you to expand the budget

- bit of a good cop bad cop situation at work but it’s all for his own good and safety!

- he privately loves how you’re the boss lady at work bc then he gets to do more things within his vision

- always trying to get you in a prank or two but never has you in stunts

- your reactions would be perfect for footage but he’d get all pouty “baby did you see that! he fell for it completely! i mean could that have gone any better??”

“honey that was kinda mean, kosick’s on crutches” queue pouty knox, “but you really antiqued him—i mean he’d fit right into the old folks’ home” and giggly knox returns when he sees you start to laugh

- you’re usually his accomplice for a lot of the milder pranks he has in mind on your off days—ones that are almost too mundane for footage—but he loves seeing you giggle at bam freaking at a fake snake or having one of the guys eat a mayo pudding cup

- he love love loves doing intros with you at home to an imaginary camera

“hi, im johnny knoxville, this here is my babydoll, and we’re about to make some pancakes”

- he’s such a dork but he’s your dork

[writingisbetterthandying]

reblogging for jackass best & last!!

[prettyskjei]

summerboy — nathan mackinnon

summary: your dad is getting married in lake como, the place you’ve dreamed of getting married since you were a teenager. a hotel mistake forced you to share a room with nathan mackinnon, your childhood crush.

wc: 12.5k

note: this was supposed to be really short, but Nate won my heart. 😛😛 here are some songs to listen to while you read this ( sarà perché ti amo, ricchi e poveri ; summerboy, lady gaga ; teenage fever, drake ; butterflies, brent faiyaz ; kiss of like, sade ; other side, brent faiyaz ; yebba’s heartbreak, drake )

-

your dad is getting married again, and his wife wanted a big wedding, excessively big. a huge reception, an enormous guest list, and the party… there was no way to explain it, it was out of this world. on top of that, they were getting married in lake como, italy. your dream city.

you discovered it in a school book. you knew you wanted to get married there someday. you even had someone in mind but he was only a product of your imagination, someone you had idealized in your head. he had no real face then. just broad shoulders and hands that reached for yours like they already knew you, even though you didn’t know him.

now, you were sitting on one of the small elegant sofas in the reception area of the villa in italy that your father had rented to accommodate all the guests. from where you sat, you could watch people constantly coming in and out of the villa.

you let out a sigh because you still didn’t have a room. you had asked three times at reception. you said your name, spelled out your last name, even showed the invitation email, but the receptionist told you there was no one registered under that name. you sank a little deeper into the sofa when a familiar male voice sounded behind you.

“hey, bambi.”

you rolled your eyes at the nickname and turned your head. nathan was there, sunglasses hanging from the collar of his shirt and a small lopsided smile that only appeared when he was amused.

“hey, nate” you said.

“give me some space,” he said, moving your leg with his knee.

you pulled your legs together and sat up straight, making space for him on the sofa you barely fit on alone. his huge body took up whatever space was left, disappearing into it, his long legs spreading out for obvious reasons.

“you ready, wife?” he asked.

“excuse me?”

his hand went to the front pocket of his pants and he pulled out the room key, holding it out for you to take. you turned the small wooden piece over to look at the decoration. ‘mr. & mrs. mackinnon’. you frowned, looking at him.

“since when do you have a wife?” you asked, dropping the key onto his lap.

“since… today,” he replied, shrugging.

“where is she?” you turned your head toward reception, where there was a bunch of women with suitcases.

“in front of me,” he answered calmly.

your head turned slowly back to him, who had a light smile on his face and was looking at you.

“what?!” your voice came out louder than normal, and some people nearby turned at the sound. “that’s impossible. why would i share a room with you?”

“i asked for mrs. mackinnon’s name and they gave me yours,” he explained what had happened a few moments earlier. “i don’t know any other person with your name, bambi.”

“stop it,” you cut him off. “i’m going to tell them to fix this.”

you placed your left hand on the armrest and the other on nate’s huge thigh to push yourself up, but his voice stopped you.

“calm down. it’s not that bad,” he said, grabbing the key from his lap. “is your boyfriend from the playoffs here?”

he was referring to the man you invited to the last colorado avalanche playoff game, the one who got to meet the team in person thanks to you, where nate asked questions just to make things awkward for both of you.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you said reluctantly. “we don’t talk anymore.”

“then we’re okay,” he said, shrugging.

you looked at him in disbelief. nate always did that, he said absurd things with an infuriating calm, as if everyone else in the world was overreacting. though maybe that’s why you became friends so quickly. you met him when you were eighteen and your dad had just become the coach of the colorado avalanche. at first you only went to a few summer practices because your father hated leaving you home alone. nathan barely spoke to you, he’d nod at you and go back to training like he was preparing for war instead of a hockey game.

but one day he found you sitting alone in the stands at the practice facility, trying to finish an assignment while waiting for your dad. he dropped down next to you completely sweaty, breathing heavily after training, and snatched the book from your hands.

“this is boring,” he said after reading two lines.

“give it back.” you pulled it out of his hands.

“you actually understand this?”

“yes.”

he looked at you for a second, genuinely impressed. then he smiled a little. “smart girl.”

and that was it. after that, he started talking to you more and more. at first it was just small conversations while you waited for practice to end. then he started sending you ridiculous videos at two in the morning. you’d tease him about his obsessive hockey addiction, he’d make fun of your one direction playlists, and without you noticing, nathan became a constant part of your life.

you liked him from the start. it was impossible not to. not when he always found a way to sit closer to you during team gatherings. not when he looked directly at you while talking even when there were twenty other people around.

but you stopped thinking about him like that the day he introduced you to one of his girlfriends. you remember perfectly how she clung to his arm during a team dinner while nathan introduced her with that relaxed smile he reserved for press and cameras. it didn’t bother you that he had girlfriends, because you knew nathan was never going to fall in love with you. so you buried that little illusion where no one could see it. and it worked. well… mostly.

“can we go to our room and rest, my lovely wife?” he poked your ribs.

you rolled your eyes, lightly hitting his thigh with your fist. a soft laugh from him reached your ears. he stood up from the sofa and extended a hand toward you.

“c’mon.”

you lifted your gaze to his face, the sunlight hitting him directly, lighting up his blond hair and shrinking his pupils into two tiny ink-like specks lost in the blue of his eyes.

you placed your hand over his, and he helped you up with barely any effort. his hand settled on your lower back, letting you pass in front of him. a shiver ran down your spine, leaving your whole body covered in goosebumps.

you were about to grab your suitcase, but his large hand appeared in the way, lifting it up along with his. he tilted his head for you to keep walking.

“i can take my own suitcase, nate,” you said, trying to reach for it, but he moved it to the other side.

“and let me be a bad husband? absolutely not,” he said, shaking his head.

you walked toward the room door. the villa had an open ceiling design, you could see the clear sky above, the sun lighting up the place with that warm italian glow. once in front of the door, you waited for nate to take out the key, but his hands were full, your suitcase and his in one hand, and another carry-on in the other.

“the key is in my right pocket,” he said, turning toward you and pulling you closer.

one of your hands opened the bag while the other reached into the large pocket of nate’s pants for the key. you grabbed it and unlocked the door, going in first and holding it open so he could come in with the luggage.

once the door was closed, you walked down the small hallway of the room. to your right was the bathroom. you continued until you reached the only bed. yes, a single bed.

“you gotta be kidding,” you sighed.

“seems nice,” nate said, opening the windows that revealed a view of the italian sea. “come take a look!”

you walked to his side and went silent. the sea sparkled under the sunlight, reflecting flashes of gold across the water. a small smile formed on your face at the sight in front of you.

“it’s so beautiful,” you said, turning your head toward nate.

“yeah, it’s so beautiful,” he nodded, looking at you.

you turned your gaze back to the sea. you couldn’t wait to get married here. you just had to find the man you had always imagined. you kept wondering who it could be. so many people you had met, and it was none of them.

nate stepped away from your side. you turned your head toward him as he dropped onto the bed, stretching his body out, arms above his head and legs extended. his shirt lifted slightly, revealing the lower part of his abdomen, where the waistband of his underwear peeked out.

your eyes returned to the shimmering sea. your heartbeat quickened, and you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. you couldn’t think like that about him. you had already moved past your imaginary phase of being in a relationship with him. even he remembers it. whenever your dad invited the team over to your house, you would show up a little more put together, wearing makeup on an otherwise normal day.

“so… about the bed,” you said, stepping away from the window.

“what about it?” nate asked, placing his arms behind his head.

you let out a nervous, poorly hidden laugh.

“you don’t want me in your bed?” he asked.

“it’s not that. i mean, we barely know each other to sleep in one bed,” you tried to justify the unjustifiable.

“we’re not gonna sleep naked, bambi,” he turned his head to look at you. “we’re gonna have clothes.”

“i know!” you raised your voice, placing your hands on your hips. “but it’s weird.”

“until you make it,” he said. “stop thinking. c’mon. lay next to me.”

you hesitated. you could just say no and walk out of the room, that easy, but your feet moved before you could stop them, and you slowly lay down, not too close to him. you didn’t want to move and make it weird.

“only four days,” he mentioned his stay. “we can make it.”

“yeah. i think,” you said under your breath.

“what are you going to do at night?” he asked, turning his head toward you.

“the final wedding rehearsal,” you answered with a groan. “my dad wants me to walk in with him… though i wish it were the other way around.”

“you want to marry raven?” he asked teasingly.

“very funny.”

nate let out a laugh. then he sat up, his weight shifting the bed so much your legs slid slightly to the side, and he placed a hand on your knee.

“you have to be happy for your dad,” he said, tapping his fingers lightly against your knee. “or at least try.”

“you want to come to the rehearsal?” you asked, sitting up next to him.

“to do what?” his blue eyes met yours.

“to be a guest, duh,” you said like it was obvious.

“okay. i will be the drunk uncle.”

that made you laugh. nate smiled when he heard it, his small smile that barely lifted one corner of his lips but always made your chest feel oddly tight.

you rolled your eyes, though the smile stayed on your face. the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. outside, small waves gently hit the private docks of the villa, and in the distance you could hear italian music coming from a restaurant near the lake. through the window, lake como looked like a postcard, small cream-colored houses climbing green mountains, boats cutting through the bright water, and lights beginning to turn on as evening settled in.

“you know,” nate said after a few seconds, “when your dad told me the wedding was here, i thought you were gonna lose your mind.”

you let out a soft laugh. “i almost did.”

“you talked about this place for years.”

you turned your head slightly toward him. “you remember that?”

nate frowned a little, as if the question was ridiculous. “of course i do.”

you felt something tighten in your ribs. because nate always remembered things he shouldn’t. small details that were easy to forget. like the exact way you took your coffee, your first dog’s name, the time you cried when zayn malik left one direction and he teased you about it for weeks.

and maybe that’s why you could never fully get him out of your head. because nate had a way of making you feel important without even realizing it.

-

the night had arrived, carrying a warmth you could feel under your skin. it was strange, like déjà vu, like you had been here before, even though you had never traveled to italy. maybe it was because you had spent years imagining this place. imagining yourself walking down the aisle toward the man you would eventually marry someday.

a voice saying your name pulled you out of your thoughts. you turned quickly toward the sound, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized the face in front of you.

“nick?” you let out a small, incredulous laugh. “what are you doing here?”

the excitement in your voice was impossible to hide. nick smiled just like he used to when you were kids, though now he looked much taller and older than the boy you had been in love with at thirteen.

“i got invited, well, raven invited me,” he shrugged, wrapping you in a hug. “it’s been years since i’ve seen you.”

“yeah—”

“i’m here.”

nate’s voice came from behind you. you turned without fully stepping away from nick.

“great… um, nick, this is nate,” you introduced him to your neighbor. “nate, this is nick.”

nate nodded, and nick extended a hand, which nate took out of politeness, and to avoid being rude in front of you.

“are you her boyfriend?” nick asked, tightening his grip on nate’s hand.

“no,” you answered faster than you meant to. “he’s my friend. my dad’s favorite player to bother.”

nate turned his sharp blue eyes toward you without letting go of nick’s hand, noticing the involuntary smile that had appeared on your face while talking to nick.

“actually, i’m her husband this week,” nate said, releasing the man’s hand.

“nathan!” you hit his chest with your hand. “don’t say that,” you scolded him. “it’s a misunderstanding with the hotel. they put us in the same room.”

“well, i hope you don’t mind if i steal your wife for one night,” nick joked, turning toward you. “are you free?”

“i have my dad’s last wedding rehearsal,” you said, playing with your fingers. “but you can come. i don’t think he’ll mind.”

“yes, that would be great!” nick smiled immediately.

“have you seen raven?” your dad appeared behind you all.

“probably regretting the wedding already,” you joked.

“maybe,” he said, laughing. “let’s go outside while we wait for her.”

you walked out into the garden where your dad’s ceremony would take place. white chairs rested on the grass under the glow of hanging string lights. nate stayed by your side, as did nick, you were trapped between them, unable to look at one without turning your back on the other.

“come here, honey,” your dad called you over.

the moment you stepped away, nate took a seat in the back row. he pulled out his phone as if he didn’t care about anything happening around him, though you knew that act too well. nate always pretended indifference when something actually bothered him.

“this is what we’re going to do one day for you. for your special day,” your dad switched places with you, glancing back and noticing nate sitting on his phone and nick taking in the place. “hey kid!”

both of them turned.

“yeah?” nick was the only one who answered.

“stand in front of the altar.”

“dad!” you muttered, gripping his arm.

“it’s just an example, i’m not asking you to marry nick, honey,” your dad said quietly. “you’ll find someone special eventually.”

you nodded, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

from the back row, nate put his phone away and paid attention just as you started walking with your dad. he noticed the two of you murmuring like accomplices until you reached the altar, where he left you with nick.

you took nick’s cold hands and lifted your gaze to his face, where a small smile made you look down, suddenly flustered. you looked up again but this time your eyes drifted to the blue ones watching you from the last row.

nate lifted a thumb with a small approving smile, as if agreeing with the scene. then, seconds later, he turned the thumb down with a disgusted expression, making you cover your laugh with both hands.

“okay, now hold hands properly,” your dad instructed, and you both obeyed. “actually… no, switch places. bride goes on this side.”

you switched with nick and now stood on the left side, closer to the seats where nate had been sitting in the back row. you took nick’s hand again and began walking down the few steps from the altar.

“this feels like a movie,” nick said. “the perfect place… and the perfect wife.”

your gaze stayed locked with nate’s, who didn’t look away from you even for a second. his eyes followed every step you took with a calmness that made the night feel like it belonged to them. something tight formed in your chest.

you reached the end when one of the doors opened and raven stepped out.

“i lost the whole wedding,” she joked, closing the door behind her.

“it would be another, don’t worry,” you played along.

“like father, like daughter,” raven laughed, her laugh pulling one out of you too.

she walked past you toward your dad, who welcomed her with open arms. you slowly let go of nick’s hand.

“what a great experience it was to marry you but i have to go now,” he said, pointing toward the door.

“don’t worry, see you at the wedding,” you said with a small squeeze of his arm. “bye!”

you walked toward the seats in front of nate, leaving him a view of your exposed back, your hair swaying slightly in the soft wind that had taken over the night.

“he really likes you, bambi,” you felt nate’s deep voice right behind your ear. too close.

“stop it.”

“he looked pretty excited that you were the bride,” he kept teasing. “like it was gonna happen one day.”

“maybe it could be real someday,” you said, turning your face slightly. “he could be the husband i’m looking for.”

“he’s not your type, bambi,” nate let out a soft laugh through his nose and slowly shook his head.

“stop calling me that!” you muttered, turning your body away from the seat. “you think you know my type? who’s my type then?”

he looked at you with that calm expression, like the answer was right on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t say it.

“dumb dudes,” he replied. “like the guy in the playoffs. he looked more excited to meet cale than to actually be there with you.”

“yeah, definitely dumb dudes,” you said, turning your back to him again.

the words stayed with you longer than they should have.

you knew nate was joking, half mocking your terrible history with men, but it still landed somewhere sensitive. because maybe he was right. maybe all the guys you had dated really were dumb dudes, and maybe everyone could see it except you.

you hated that a careless sentence from him could do that.

you crossed your arms over your chest and stared forward, refusing to turn around. behind you, there was movement, the scrape of a chair, footsteps on the grass. nate’s body appeared in your view as he settled into the seat beside you.

you didn’t look at him. your face stayed forward, jaw tight, eyes fixed on anything ahead. for a moment, he didn’t speak either. his shoulder brushed yours, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him despite the cool night air.

“you mad?” he asked after a while.

silence.

“bambi.”

nothing.

he leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out until your knees touched his. he let out a calm sigh through his nose. “that’s dramatic.”

still, you ignored him.

you could see your dad hugging raven near the altar, distant cars near the villa, soft music drifting through the garden but your whole body was still too aware of nate sitting next to you. taking up space like always. acting like he hadn’t just said something that had slipped under your skin.

“i was joking,” he said, his voice lower now.

“good for you,” you replied sharply.

he turned slightly toward you, trying to catch your eyes, but you refused.

“you know i was joking.”

“then find someone else to entertain.”

you felt the side of his hand nudge your elbow. you pulled your arm away immediately.

“you’re really doing this?”

“yes.”

“you’ve ignored me for less.”

“that should tell you something.”

that made him go quiet immediately.

for a few moments, there was only the sound of wind moving through the trees and quiet voices near the altar. the air had turned colder, but nate’s arm was still pressed against yours, warm and heavy.

“i didn’t mean to upset you.”

“too late,” you said, your throat tightening, which only made you more annoyed.

nate shifted in his seat, leaning slightly closer until his knee pressed more firmly against yours.

“look at me.”

you didn’t. you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“look at me,” he repeated, softer this time. more patient.

and somehow that made it harder not to. you turned your head just enough to meet his eyes. nate was still facing you, one arm draped over the back of the chair, his jaw tight in that unreadable way he got when he was deciding whether to push or back off. it was the same look he had on the ice when he wanted the puck and nothing else mattered.

“relax, please,” he murmured.

his long fingers brushed your arm. it felt strange, because this version of nate, him being careful and trying to fix things, felt too different from the one you remembered. your mind drifted to a memory before you could stop it.

your house.

your dad had invited some of the team, and the place was loud with laughter, some hockey talk, chairs scraping against the floor. nate was sitting on the counter, leaning against it like he owned the room, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, eating strawberries straight from the container.

you had spent almost an hour upstairs getting ready. curling your hair for the third time because you didn’t like how it fell over your shoulders. changing outfits until you found a top that looked casual even though it clearly wasn’t. putting on makeup with shaky hands because you were eighteen and nathan mackinnon was downstairs in your kitchen. back then, you still thought those kinds of things mattered.

when you finally walked into the kitchen carrying a tray of drinks, the conversation slowed for half a second. just long enough for it to be noticed.

nate’s eyes landed on you. they traveled over your hair, your makeup, your clothes and then he smiled.

“well, look at this,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “didn’t know it was picture day.”

a couple of guys laughed immediately. your grip tightened on the tray. you tried to keep walking like it didn’t affect you, but nate wasn’t done.

“who are you trying to impress?” he asked, picking a bottle off the tray. “because it’s definitely not working on these guys.”

more laughter. louder this time.

your face burned so badly you thought you might cry right there in front of all of them.

“it’s called looking nice,” you said quickly. “you should try it sometime.”

nate just shrugged, opening the bottle.

“relax, it was a joke,” he said, already bored with it.

you slammed the tray down too hard, ran upstairs, shut your bedroom door, and sat on the floor waiting. waiting for footsteps. waiting for a knock. waiting for him to come up and say he didn’t mean it. that the guys were idiots. that he was an idiot. anything.

but it never happened. an hour later, you looked out the window and nate was still outside in the garden with your dad, talking about a game like nothing had happened at all.

back then, he never cared enough to explain himself. if he hurt your feelings, he moved on before the moment could even finish, he was already somewhere else.

now he was sitting beside you in italy, refusing to move on.

“relax, it was a joke,” he repeated softly. “bad timing maybe, but still a joke.”

before you could answer, raven’s voice carried through the garden.

“sweetheart, i need you over here.”

you looked away from nate and turned toward raven, who was standing near the altar with a bouquet in her hands, motioning for you to come closer.

you stood up from your chair, smoothing down your dress. but before you could take another step, warm fingers closed around your wrist. you froze.

when you looked down, nate’s hand was wrapped around you, still sitting, his eyes lifted to yours. the overhead lights reflected softly in his blue gaze.

“i’m sorry,” he said.

something in his expression had shifted. like he hated that you thought badly of him, even if he hated even more having to say it out loud. you looked from his hand on your wrist back to his eyes.

he loosened his grip slightly, but he didn’t let go.

“bambi.”

you pulled your wrist free without a word.

you walked toward the altar, still feeling the warmth of nate’s hand lingering on your skin. the same warmth you used to imagine in your own wedding daydreams. a warmth you hadn’t felt in nick’s cold hands when you held his.

you could feel nate’s gaze on your back, but you ignored it and kept walking until you reached raven, who showed you where to stand.

nate didn’t look away.

from his seat, he could see your expression clearly. your face was calm, but your eyes weren’t. there was something there, something he recognized too well now. he hadn’t always noticed it, but two years ago he started paying attention without really knowing why. the way your posture changed when something bothered you. the way you walked away without looking back, like you just did.

he followed you with his eyes until you took your place, as if his body couldn’t decide to stop watching you even when his mind told him to.

-

you could feel your face warming under the sunlight that hit your skin. you opened your eyes with some difficulty and stared at the wooden ceiling above you. you had ignored nate throughout the rehearsal, it hadn’t seemed strange to anyone else because you and nate weren’t exactly close in their eyes. still, now he was lying right next to you in the same bed.

you turned your head slightly to the left, and nate was still asleep, lying face down with his right arm tucked under the pillow. the blanket sat low on his waist, leaving his back exposed under the morning light.

sunlight poured through the open windows, falling directly onto him, tracing the soft lines of his back and making his hair look even more golden. for a moment, you just watched in silence.

and then something uncomfortable tightened in your chest, because you had already imagined this before. you had spent years being in love with nate, so you had imagined what he would look like sleeping next to you. what it would be like to be part of his life after telling everyone you were together. until that idea disappeared the day he introduced you to his first girlfriend.

your gaze slowly traced the line of his back as the sunlight shifted across his skin. there was something strangely intimate about seeing him like this, sleeping, still, without the intensity he always carried awake. without that version of nate who always seemed like he was competing against the world.

he looked like someone you could wake up with a kiss on the lips and it wouldn’t feel strange. the thought hit you so hard you looked away immediately, annoyed at yourself.

you shifted carefully so you wouldn’t wake him, but the mattress dipped slightly under your weight.

nate let out a low sound, almost a sleepy grunt, and turned his face slightly into the pillow. his eyes were still closed when he spoke, his voice rough from sleep.

“why are you staring at me?”

your heart jumped so stupidly it made you angry.

“i wasn’t staring at you,” you lied quickly.

a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, still with his eyes closed.

“creepy.”

you rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it.

“you were literally asleep.”

“not anymore.”

he slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. it took a moment for his pupils to adjust before he found you still lying beside him. and for the first time since last night’s argument, neither of you looked upset.

“you still mad at me?” he asked, his voice rough.

you looked at him for a few more seconds. the golden light kept falling over his hair, over his back, over that sleepy expression you almost never saw on him. and honestly, you didn’t have enough energy left to stay mad anymore.

“i’m not mad anymore,” you admitted quietly.

“so,” he said. “we’re okay?”

the question sounded casual, but there was something careful in it. like he actually wanted to know the answer. nate wasn’t good at apologizing. everyone knew that. he was too blunt, too proud sometimes, too used to moving forward instead of sitting in uncomfortable feelings.

but with you, he tried last night. multiple times. he tried to make you understand he didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and that mattered more than you wanted to admit.

“yeah,” you answered finally. “we’re okay.”

nate looked at you for a few seconds, and a small smile appeared on his lips, softer than the teasing ones he usually gave you.

then he got out of bed and walked toward the window, where sunlight traced his back and bare shoulders. he leaned his forearms against the balcony railing, the morning breeze moving through his messy hair while the lake stretched endlessly behind him.

you watched him for half a second too long before forcing yourself to look away and get out of bed. the floor felt cold under your feet as you walked toward your suitcase.

“what’s the plan today?” nate asked from outside.

you crouched beside your luggage, pretending to look for something just to avoid looking at him again.

“breakfast with my dad and raven,” you answered. “my dad said you’re invited too. unless you’re too busy touring with cale.”

nate let out a quiet scoff from the balcony.

“first of all, cale would absolutely wake up at six in the morning to go look at rocks or whatever tourists do here.”

a smile tugged at your lips as you kept pretending to reorganize clothes that were already folded.

“and second?” you asked.

“i’m offended you think i’d miss free breakfast.”

you let out a soft laugh. behind you, you heard his footsteps crossing the room slowly. the mattress shifted slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“tell your dad i’ll go,” he said. “gotta maintain my reputation as his favorite player.”

“you mean his most tolerated player.”

nate placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “that’s hurtful.”

you finally looked at him over your shoulder. his hair was still messy from sleep. he looked too comfortable here. too natural in your space. your eyes lingered for a dangerous second before you looked away again.

unfortunately, nate noticed everything. a slow smile appeared on his face.

“there you go again.”

“oh my god,” you muttered immediately, grabbing the first thing from your suitcase just to have something to hold. “you’re ridiculously obsessed with yourself.”

“no, bambi,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “i just know when someone’s looking at me like that.”

bambi.

you hated that nickname or at least that’s what you tried to say every time nate used it. you hated it because it made you feel like a kid again, but also because no one else could call you that. only him.

it had started as a joke years ago, when you fell while trying to skate in front of the entire team during a charity event. nate had laughed so hard your dad had to tell him to calm down, then he’d walked over to help you up and said you looked like a baby deer learning how to walk like bambi.

and it just stuck. all the other players eventually stopped using it. you tried to ignore it, but nate never did. and the worst part was that it sounded different when it came from him, like something closer, something that belonged only to him.

half an hour later, you were walking together through the small stone paths of the villa toward the restaurant where your dad had organized a family breakfast. the morning air was still cool, and the lake shimmered brightly under the sun. tourists walked near the water with cameras in hand while small cafés were starting to fill up.

nate walked beside you wearing sunglasses and a simple white shirt with a few buttons undone that, unfairly, still made him look ridiculously attractive. you hated that too.

“stop sighing,” he commented without even looking at you.

“i didn’t sigh.”

“you did.”

“you’re annoying.”

before he could answer, your dad’s voice came from a nearby terrace.

“there they are!”

you looked up toward the restaurant. the tables were set outside, covered with white tablecloths and small flowers in the center. raven was sitting next to your dad with a cup of coffee in her hands. your dad smiled the moment he saw nate walking up with you.

“mackinnon,” he greeted, lifting a hand. “i knew free food would bring you here.”

nate placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended. “coach, i came here because i enjoy company.”

“that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told me.”

you let out a small laugh as you took your seat next to raven. nate settled beside you almost automatically, like it was the most natural thing in the world. and maybe that’s why your dad raised an eyebrow. he noticed how nate pulled your chair slightly forward before sitting down. how he took the menu and handed it to you first without even thinking. those small, automatic gestures that felt too domestic for two people who “barely knew each other.”

“you two look well rested,” raven commented, smiling over her coffee cup.

“best sleep of my life,” nate replied, taking a sip of coffee like nothing was wrong.

you slowly turned your head toward him with a look of horror. your dad let out a loud laugh from across the table, and nate smiled behind his cup because he knew exactly what he was doing.

“you’re unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, not looking at him directly.

“what? i slept great,” he said, shrugging.

“you snore,” you lied.

“that’s actually offensive.”

“it’s true.”

“coach,” nate turned to your dad with complete seriousness. “your daughter is spreading misinformation about me.”

your dad laughed again while raven gently shook her head.

“you two sound married already,” she commented casually.

the silence that followed lasted only a second, but it was enough to feel strange, because nate didn’t respond. you glanced at him, expecting a quick joke, some arrogant comeback, or one of those teasing smiles he always used to escape uncomfortable moments—but for just a moment, he stayed quiet, leaning back in his chair with his arm draped over yours, staring out at the lake like the thought didn’t bother him as much as it should have.

“god help us all if that ever happens,” you said quickly before the silence could grow.

“see?” he pointed at raven. “she’s the mean one.”

a waiter appeared at the table to take orders, and the conversation shifted into coffee choices and wedding talk. still, you were too aware of nate sitting next to you. of his leg brushing yours under the table. like he was used to sharing your space.

after breakfast, raven insisted on walking through the small markets near the lake before heading back to the villa. your dad agreed immediately because, according to him, “this is what rich italian vacations are supposed to look like.”

so you ended up walking behind them through the cobblestone streets of lake como while small shops filled with flowers and painted ceramics appeared on both sides. the lake shimmered behind the old buildings, and the air smelled like fresh coffee.

“you know,” your dad commented as raven stopped in front of a shop full of candles, “if hockey stops working out, mackinnon could definitely scam rich women in italy.”

nate let out a laugh. “good to know you believe in my future, coach.”

“you already look like a divorced millionaire,” you added.

“well, i’m not divorced,” he turned slightly toward you, though you couldn’t see his blue eyes behind his sunglasses. “i’m actually your millionaire husband.”

“you wish,” you rolled your eyes.

“oh my god, look!” raven let out an excited sound ahead.

you looked up and found a small photobooth placed next to an ice cream shop. it was decorated with white flowers and beige curtains, probably set up for tourists and couples. a small sign read: lake como memories.

“we’re taking pictures,” raven announced immediately.

she practically dragged your dad inside the tiny booth while you and nate stayed outside, looking at the printed tourist photos stuck to the exterior. through the curtain, you could hear their laughter and your dad complaining that “the stool was too small.”

nate let out a small laugh beside you.

“that’s gonna be us in thirty years,” he said calmly.

you slowly turned toward him. “excuse me?”

“old and embarrassing.”

“you skipped a few important steps there.”

“did i?” he asked distractedly, still looking at the photos.

you stared at him a second too long before looking away again. the photobooth curtain finally opened and raven stepped out first, holding the printed pictures in her hands.

“your turn!” she said excitedly.

“no.”

“yes!” raven gently pushed you forward. “go make memories.”

nate opened the curtain for you to step in first. the booth was much smaller than it looked from outside.

“there’s literally no space.”

“what did you expect?” nate stepped in behind you and closed the curtain. “an apartment?”

the tiny bench barely looked designed for one person. nate sat first for obvious reasons, his long legs took up almost all the space.

“you can sit,” he said, looking at you.

“where exactly, genius?”

nate gave his leg a small tap.

“the camera is literally counting down,” he pointed upward. sure enough, a small light had started blinking. “unless you wanna stand awkwardly in the corner.”

you let out a nervous sigh before carefully sitting down on one of his legs. too close. nate’s arm moved instinctively around your waist to keep you from slipping off, and you immediately felt the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress.

your back pressed against his chest. you felt small on his lap. you could feel his breath near your neck, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes, the brush of his knee against the outside of your thigh, even the subtle movement of his chest when he let out a low laugh at how stiff you were.

“you look terrified,” he murmured near your ear.

“because you’re crushing me.”

nate only smiled slightly and rested his cheek against yours just as the first flash lit up the booth. on instinct, you placed a hand on his cheek, pulling him closer to your face as you pretended to scream for the photo, and the second flash went off immediately. you let out a small laugh, and the final countdown began.

nate leaned in closer.

“you know…” his hand tightened gently at your waist, his blue eyes dropping briefly to your lips before meeting yours again. “you fit here pretty well, bambi.”

flash.

neither of you moved.

you were still too aware of his hand firm around your waist. how close his face was to yours. the accidental brush of his nose near your cheek.

your breath came out uneven, and you hated that he probably noticed. nate had been noticing everything about you lately. his eyes dipped toward your mouth again, and for a second, you genuinely thought he might kiss you right there.

the air inside the booth felt too hot all of a sudden. too small. and you were just trying to remember how to breathe normally while nate looked at you like that. like you were something he wanted to touch even when you were already right there on him.

you didn’t know what to do. didn’t know what to say. for the first time, he had actually left you speechless.

and that confused you more than anything.

nate wasn’t like this with you. he never made jokes like that. not about being married. he would’ve made a joke, sure, but he would’ve shut it down, fixed the misunderstanding immediately.

the machine let out a mechanical sound as it printed the photos, and the moment snapped apart.

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “saved by technology.”

nate let out a low laugh as he slowly removed his hand from your waist. “you’re dramatic.”

“you’re annoying.”

“and yet,” he tilted his head slightly, looking at you, “you looked pretty comfortable sitting on me.”

“oh my god.”

you pushed the curtain open and stepped out before he could say anything else.

the fresh air outside hit your warm face immediately. your dad and raven were waiting for you, eating half-melted ice cream. raven took the two photo strips from your hand, her face lighting up the moment she started looking at them.

“looks like you’re on your honeymoon!” she said excitedly, showing them to your dad.

“oh please, don’t say that, honey,” your dad said, taking one of the strips. “they’re not each other’s type.”

you and nate both turned your heads toward him at the same time. “what?”

“come on,” your dad pointed at nate with the photo strip still in his hand. “nate likes blondes,” then he pointed at you. “and you don’t like hockey players.”

“that is not true,” you protested.

nate was behind you, completely quiet.

“the last time you dated a hockey player you said you would never date one again,” your dad reminded you, thinking back to when you came home crying that night.

“because hockey players are insane.”

“exactly,” your dad said, satisfied.

“actually coach,” nate said, stepping up beside you, “i don’t really have a type.”

“no?” your dad raised an eyebrow.

“no,” nate kept his eyes on you while he spoke, like everything else around him had disappeared. “i just like girls who are funny,”

your breath caught slightly.

“pretty,” he continued calmly. “smart, a little mean to me…”

“oh my goodness,” you muttered immediately.

your dad laughed, assuming nate was just joking again.

“and obsessed with me,” he finished with a small crooked smile.

that broke the tension instantly.

“okay, there he is,” you said, pushing his arm while raven started laughing. “i was worried for a second.”

nate let out a low laugh as you hit him again, but even as you all started walking, his eyes stayed on you like part of him had said more than he meant to.

when you got back to the villa, the sun was still high over the lake and the place felt much more alive than in the morning. guests wandered through the gardens with glasses in hand, conversations mixing across tables, soft music threading through the trees.

raven and your dad disappeared almost as soon as they walked in because someone needed help with something related to the tables, you weren’t even sure what anymore.

you and nate walked slowly along one of the stone paths in the garden. around you were rose bushes, small unlit lights hanging from the trees, and empty tables waiting for the next night’s celebration.

nate broke the silence first.

“you’ve been smiling all day.”

you tilted your head slightly toward him. “what?”

“you,” he gestured vaguely at your face. “you’ve been smiling since we got here.”

you frowned a little confused. “that’s a weird thing to notice.”

“i notice everything about you.”

it came out too fast. too natural. nate seemed to realize it a second later because he cleared his throat and looked down at the path.

your heart gave an uncomfortable little jump.

you kept walking until you reached a small bench under a weeping willow facing the lake. you sat down first, letting out a tired sigh. nate took off his sunglasses and hooked them onto his shirt before sitting beside you.

both of you stared out at the lake, lit by the sun. your hands rested in your lap, while his were placed on the bench beside him.

the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of soft silence that seemed to belong to the place itself, like the lake, the wind, and the willow leaves were all holding stillness with you.

the tree’s shade covered you almost completely, letting only small rays of sunlight slip through the branches. the lake shimmered in the distance, like nothing else existed outside that moment.

“i can understand why you want to marry here,” he said, looking out at the view.

“why?” you asked, turning your head toward him.

“i mean, look at this!” he extended his hand toward the lake. “everything is so beautiful. that’s probably why raven stole your idea.”

that made you laugh.

“she didn’t steal it,” you shrugged. “it’s trendy.”

“i remember when you told me italy was your dream city,” he said.

“oh my god, we were nineteen!” you let out a laugh.

“you talked about it for like… two hours.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “that’s embarrassing.”

“it was kinda cute.”

the word caught you off guard.

“you had this whole thing about flowers,” he continued, still looking ahead. “pink ones.”

“hydrangeas,” you corrected automatically.

“yeah, those,” he pointed slightly. “and you said you wanted jewelry that matched them.”

you turned to look at his face, not expecting him to remember.

“you showed me this bracelet once,” he said more quietly now. “tiny little thing with pink details on it. it had these pale pink stones. you said it looked soft enough to wear with flowers.”

you stared at him, completely surprised.

“how do you even remember that?” you asked softly. “i mentioned it once.”

nate held your gaze for a second longer.

“because it was important to you, bambi.”

the nickname came out differently this time. lower. like all the years you spent trying to bury and move past your feelings for him had suddenly surfaced again in your mind.

nate lowered his gaze right after saying it, like he’d felt the shift in the way he spoke to you too.

his fingers tapped against the bench before sliding slowly into his pocket. for the first time since you’d known him, nate looked nervous. his hand stayed there for a few seconds, like he was deciding whether to go through with it or not.

he let out a small breath and pulled out a silver bracelet, covered in tiny pink stones that caught the light as the sun filtered through the trees. it was delicate and thin, elegant in a soft way, like it had been made to stay close to skin.

“you remembered,” you murmured.

your eyes dropped to the bracelet, then lifted back to him. there was something in his expression that didn’t fully settle, like the memory of something so small had left him too exposed.

“you said you wanted something that matched the flowers,” he explained quietly. “for your wedding.”

the words hung between you.

you looked at him for a second without speaking, because it wasn’t just the gift. it was that nate had held onto it long enough to actually go and buy it.

he looked down at the bracelet in his hand, like he was suddenly worried it was too much.

“if it’s too much, i can—”

“no,” you cut him off immediately. “it’s perfect, nate.”

something soft shifted in his face.

nate opened the bracelet carefully, holding it with hands that looked almost too big and clumsy for something so delicate. he placed it around your wrist and closed it gently.

and suddenly it was there, resting against your skin, the tiny pink stones catching light every time the sun slipped through the leaves.

“it looks good on you,” he said finally.

your throat tightened, and before you could think too much about it, you leaned into him.

nate barely had time to react before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. his responded instantly, arms closing around your back with a steady strength that made you feel completely held.

he pulled you closer with care, like the hug was something he’d wanted to do for a while but hadn’t known how to start.

you pulled back just enough to look at him, still smiling.

“now,” you said softly, a light happiness in your voice, “i just have to find my husband.”

nate let out a short laugh through his nose, but you didn’t move away right away. and neither did he.

his arms were still around you, warm and heavy around your waist, like in the photobooth. you could feel the slow rhythm of his breathing against you.

“you’re gonna find him,” he murmured.

something in the way he said it made you look up at him. there was something strange in his expression now, calm on the surface, but too full underneath. like he was trying to sound casual while something else tightened in his chest.

“yeah?” you asked softly.

he nodded slightly. “yeah.” his hand drifted up your back once before settling again at your waist. “you’ll probably meet some ridiculously nice and polite guy. not a hockey player.”

that made you laugh a little.

“what if he is a hockey player?”

“absolutely not. terrible species.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling.

“you are literally one.”

“exactly. i know what i’m talking about.”

but he still didn’t let go. you were still too close. and nate was looking at you in that way you’d been struggling to ignore lately like he was trying to convince himself of something while still holding you there.

the wind moved through the willow branches around you, isolating you even more from everything else. from outside, no one could really see you here.

it was just the two of you.

“you know what’s funny?” he said suddenly.

“what?”

“i think your husband is gonna be really annoying.” a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes stayed serious.

you let out a soft laugh. “why?”

“because he’s gonna spend the rest of his life trying to deserve you.”

your breath caught slightly.

you pulled back just enough to sit straighter on the bench, your eyes dropping to the bracelet on your wrist. for some reason, his words pressed against your chest in a way you couldn’t easily shake.

“that was a very intense thing to say for someone who calls me bambi,” you tried lightly.

nate let out a small breath of a laugh, grateful for the easier exit.

“yeah,” he murmured, still looking out at the lake. “probably.”

you watched him for a moment longer. sunlight hit his profile, softening the tension in his face but not fully erasing it. and for the first time in a long time, nate looked like someone who didn’t quite know what to do with what he was feeling.

then he stood up, extending a hand toward you without fully looking at you.

“c’mon, wife,” he said, his voice much gentler now. “we should go back before your dad thinks i kidnapped you.”

you let out a small laugh as you took his hand and pulled yourself up.

you walked out from under the willow tree and dropped his hand the moment you saw cale’s wife waving at you from the table. you lifted your arm to wave back and walked toward her.

“there she is,” cale said as soon as he saw you.

“mackinnon’s wife,” manson added.

laughter broke out around the table. nate smiled at the joke.

“finally someone respects my marriage,” he bumped fists with his teammate. “my wife doesn’t take it seriously.”

“she should! we saw you guys making out there!” manson pointed toward the willow tree.

“we weren’t making out!” you said through your teeth.

“that’s exactly what two people who make out would say,” manson replied.

more laughter.

“thank you,” nate added, pointing at him. “someone gets it.”

you hit his arm lightly while everyone kept teasing.

“hey.” a voice came from behind you. you turned. nick was standing there with a calm smile. “sorry,” he said, glancing at the group. “am i interrupting?”

“unfortunately, no,” nate answered immediately.

nick let out a small laugh. “i was actually looking for her.”

you felt several eyes shift toward you.

“me?” you asked.

“yeah.”

he put both hands in his pockets.

“i found a little garden near the back of the villa. there’s a fountain and everything. thought you might want to see it.”

“sure,” your smile appeared before you could stop it. “see you guys later.”

“don’t stay out too late,” cale called after you.

“use protection,” mason added from the other end of the table.

“OH MY GOD, JOSH!”

laughter exploded again as you walked away with nick. nate only smiled out of obligation.

because the moment you started walking down the stone path, something in him stopped finding the situation funny. he watched as nick said something and you laughed.

his neck stayed turned, following your figure until you disappeared from sight. he didn’t hear half of what continued at the table.

cale watched the direction you’d gone, then looked at nate, who was still staring after you.

“can i tell you something without you getting defensive?”

nate let out a short laugh through his nose. “no.”

“you know what’s frustrating?” cale continued. “it’s that every time you get close, you find a reason not to do it. first it was because she was too young. then it was because her dad is our coach. then it was because she was dating somebody.”

nate let out a humorless laugh.

“you make it sound pathetic.”

“because it is, man.” cale leaned forward slightly. “under the willow tree would’ve been a pretty good time to tell her.”

“i can’t.” the answer came instantly. nate looked at him. “i can’t ruin what we have.”

“and what exactly is that?”

nate went quiet. he didn’t even know what to call it. something safe, something they’d built over years without ever naming it properly.

“you don’t even know what to call it,” cale said.

“shut up.”

“i won’t. you spent ten years acting like you had all the time in the world… you don’t.” cale rested his forearms on the table. “because somebody else noticed her too.”

nick led you down one of the farther paths of the villa, where the sound of the guests barely reached through the trees. the so-called garden turned out exactly like he described it, a small stone fountain surrounded by white flowers and neatly trimmed bushes.

“this is actually really pretty,” you said, looking around.

“i knew you’d like it.”

a small smile formed on your face as you stepped closer to the fountain.

“you’re very proud of yourself right now.”

“a little.”

you let out a soft laugh. the silence that followed was easy. nick rested a hand on the edge of the stone fountain while watching you.

“it’s weird seeing you again.”

you turned toward him.

“why?”

“you look exactly the same.”

“that’s impossible.”

“no, seriously,” he smiled. “you still make the same face when you’re about to argue with someone.”

you rolled your eyes at him.

“see? there it is.”

you laughed. nick looked down for a second before meeting your eyes again.

“i had a crush on you for years, you know.”

the confession caught you off guard, even though part of you had always suspected it back when you were younger.

“nick…”

“it’s okay,” he shrugged. “i think everybody knew except you.”

an awkward smile formed on your lips. your mind started running through a dozen different scenarios of what you were supposed to say next.

“to be fair, i was pretty oblivious.”

“yeah, you were.”

you both let out a small laugh. nick stepped a little closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. not yet. your childhood crush on him had faded the moment you met nate and never really came back. not even now.

“when raven invited me here i was hoping i’d get to see you.”

a small knot formed in your stomach.

“no pressure,” he added quickly. “i just wanted you to know.”

“thank you,” you said softly, offering him a gentle smile.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. the fountain kept running behind you. then nick stepped forward again and before you fully processed it, he tilted his head slightly. his lips brushed yours for only a second.

you pulled back immediately.

“nick.”

he froze. “oh, i’m so sorry.”

you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay.”

“no, i shouldn’t have done that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “i thought maybe…”

“no…” you lowered your voice gently. “i mean… you’re great, nick.”

the small smile he gave you this time was full of resignation.

“but?”

you looked away toward the fountain because you didn’t know how to explain it, that the problem wasn’t him. that he was probably one of the best people you had ever known, and still something was missing.

“but just… not like that.”

nick nodded slowly.

“yeah…”

silence settled between you again.

and for the first time since you’d walked into the garden, your mind drifted back to blue eyes, a voice calling you bambi, and a bracelet carefully closed around your wrist.

and that was enough for you to understand why you’d stepped back.

-

you didn’t manage to sleep properly. you couldn’t. your mind kept replaying everything with nate, how long he held you in that hug, how easily you sat on his lap, how he actually apologized for something he said, and how he remembered things about you in such specific detail. you were teenagers when half of those memories even happened.

you turned your head slightly, and there he was. his bare, muscular back facing you. he slept with that quiet confidence of someone who had no problem being shirtless around you, if it were up to him, he’d probably sleep in just boxers, but he still wasn’t entirely sure how you’d react.

you let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes, replaying everything again. and when you opened them again, it was already the wedding day.

everything had moved too fast after that. the villa turned into elegant chaos from early morning, raven rushing from one place to another with someone chasing her just to fix her dress while your dad pretended not to be nervous.

you barely saw nate during the day. there were brief glances in the villa hallways, nothing more. no conversation, no teasing, no jokes from him.

the ceremony felt like a dream. the sky over lake como turned orange while soft lights wrapped around the garden and the lake shimmered behind the altar. you heard raven crying before you even saw your dad do the same. you laughed during the vows, teared up thinking about your mom, and then everything ended too quickly.

and before you knew it, it was fully night.

the reception was still alive behind you but you needed silence. so you walked away from the noise. the garden was much quieter now. the dark lake stretched behind the altar, reflecting small flickers of light across the water.

you sat in one of the last rows, slipping your heels off under the chair with a tired sigh. your feet were killing you from walking all day and dancing through every song.

for a moment, you just stayed there, staring at the place where your dad had gotten married. it still felt strange to think about it. you never imagined seeing him remarry. it was a weird feeling, but not something you could hate, he deserved to fall in love again.

“i guess the party is over for the mackinnons,” nate’s deep voice came from behind you before you even saw him.

you turned slightly. he was walking between the chairs with his hands in his pockets, suit jacket gone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. he looked less put together now, but still just as attractive. maybe even more.

“you found me anyway.”

“yeah,” he stopped at your row. “starting to think you do it on purpose.”

you raised an eyebrow. “maybe i just wanted five minutes without hearing ABBA.”

that made a soft smile slip onto your face. nate looked around for a second before sitting down in the chair next to yours, his long legs immediately bumping into the row in front.

“these chairs are tiny,” he murmured, adjusting himself.

“that sounds like a you problem.”

“my wife should be more supportive.”

you rolled your eyes automatically, but the smile stayed.

“you’re still using that joke?”

“joke?” nate turned his head slightly toward you, pretending to be surprised. “the hotel room says otherwise.”

you let out a small laugh through your nose. the wind gently moved the flowers near the altar while the two of you looked ahead for a moment. the reception music still echoed in the distance, now softened by how far away it was.

“still think it’s messed up they sat us separately,” he commented.

“oh my god, nathan.”

“i’m serious,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the party. “what kind of wedding separates a married couple?”

“we are not married.”

“then explain the honeymoon suite, bambi.”

you didn’t have an answer, so you just looked at him with a smile. the warm hanging lights lit his face softly, making him look like he’d been pulled straight out of a rom-com.

“you know,” he said casually, placing one of his hands on your legs, “your dad almost gave me a heart attack during the rehearsal.”

your eyes dropped to his hand resting on your legs.

“because of nick?”

“because i had to watch another dude stand at the altar with my wife,” he replied immediately.

you turned your head toward him, amused. “you’re so dramatic.”

“am not.”

“you literally gave me a thumbs down from the last row like you were an emperor from gladiator 2.”

“he looked nervous,” nate shrugged slightly, “he would’ve died if he lived in that time.”

you shook your head, smiling, placing your hand with the bracelet over his. nate immediately followed the movement. something soft shifted in his expression, like relief, before he looked back toward the empty altar.

“c’mon,” he said suddenly, standing up.

you frowned slightly. “what?”

“let’s try something.”

you looked at him suspiciously as he extended a hand toward you.

“nathan…”

“trust me.”

that only made you more skeptical. still, you took his hand. nate pulled you up easily and started walking with you between the empty rows. the hanging lights barely illuminated the garden now, and the dark lake shimmered behind the altar.

“okay,” you said through a soft laugh. “what are we doing?”

nate didn’t answer right away. he just led you to the start of the aisle where you had walked with your dad hours earlier. then he slowly let go of your hand.

“stand here.”

you were still confused. “why?”

“because we’re recreating the rehearsal.”

you let out an immediate, disbelieving laugh. “absolutely not.”

“absolutely yes,” nate said, walking backward slowly. “nick did a terrible job. we need a better version.”

he then turned and walked alone toward the altar. you watched him move under the soft garden lights, tall, composed, even just in a white shirt. his steps barely echoed against the wooden platform until he finally stopped at the top.

and then he stood still, with his back to you. the white flowers around him seemed to match him somehow, reflecting that quiet calm he always carried with you when he teased you.

nate turned slowly to face you. that’s when the air got stuck in your lungs. he was just looking at you. waiting.

and your mind betrayed you immediately, pulling you back to that younger version of yourself, the one who used to imagine this place from an old school book. you had pictured your wedding in lake como before you’d even known italy existed. there had always been a man in that dream, but he never had a face. just a blurry idea. a silhouette without a name holding your hand while the lake shimmered behind you.

and now, with every step you took toward the altar, that image started to shift.

the silhouette came into focus. broad shoulders becoming real. blond hair first. then blue eyes. then that crooked nose you could recognize anywhere. then the small, tilted smile.

nathan.

it always ended up being nathan.

your breathing turned uneven as you walked slowly toward him between the empty rows of white chairs, and nate never looked away. not once. like he was seeing something he couldn’t quite explain either.

your steps slowed near the altar. the music from the reception barely reached you now. there was only the soft glow of the lights, the dark lake moving behind him, and his steady gaze making you feel too seen.

when you finally stepped onto the platform, nate let out a small breath through his nose, almost nervous.

“okay,” he murmured, glancing down for a second. “this part is harder than i thought.”

that made you laugh softly. “what? no speech prepared?”

“i usually perform better under pressure.”

“i know that.”

nate looked back up at you, and something shifted.

the teasing smile faded, leaving something quieter. more serious. softer. and when he took your hands, warmth spread through you instantly. different from anything you’d felt before. different from nick. with nate it wasn’t just touch, it was familiarity. like he already knew exactly how to hold you.

“i, nathan mackinnon…” he started, and both of you let out a small laugh at how serious it sounded. but he didn’t let go of your hands. “promise to always let you steal the blankets even when you pretend you’re not cold, and i promise to remember every tiny thing you say.”

you weren’t even sure if he was joking, because he had never stolen your blankets but he did remember everything.

“you know…” he continued slowly, “i always thought whoever married you was gonna be really lucky. and not because you’re perfect.” his thumbs brushed over your hands, over the bracelet he had given you. “you’re actually kinda mean to me sometimes.”

that made you laugh through the emotion already building in your throat, but nate kept going before the moment could break.

“I’ve spent years trying to act like i was just your friend or your dad’s annoying player, while i was actually mourning every second you weren’t mine.”

his grip tightened slightly. his blue eyes were devastatingly focused on you.

“I’m not a polite man, and i’m definitely not a ‘nice guy’. but i notice everything. i notice how you change when you’re mad, and i notice how you look at this lake like it’s the first thing in the world that ever made complete sense to you.”

he stepped closer.

the air changed instantly.

your breathing turned uneven, because nate had always been big but never like this. never like something that could undo you just by being near.

and suddenly you understood why your heart had never been calm around him.

it wasn’t just attraction. it was this. the way he looked at you like you were something fragile and important. the way he always found you in crowds. the way he made you feel seen even when you tried not to be.

“I think i’ve been loving you for longer than i realized,” he exhaled quietly.

your chest tightened painfully.

“maybe since that first practice,” he continued, a faint, almost sad smile on his face. “or maybe since you started looking at me like i was more than just some hockey player your dad dragged home.”

his hands shifted, holding yours more firmly.

“but i know for sure that somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling temporary to me,” he admitted. “you started feeling like home.”

your eyes stung immediately.

nate noticed right away. he let out a small, breathless laugh like he couldn’t believe he was actually saying all of this out loud.

“I don’t know when it happened,” he said softly, “but one day i realized every version of my future somehow had you in it.”

his eyes stayed locked on yours.

“every city i went, every summer i spent… i just wanted you there with me, bambi.”

you stayed looking at him for a second longer than you could stand, and then, when you finally found your voice, it came out quieter than you expected.

“i hate that nickname.”

the small crease between nate’s eyebrows appeared immediately.

“bambi?”

you nodded slowly, still looking at him. “i’ve always hated it,” a nervous laugh slipped out of you, “and the worst part is that every time you said it… i still wanted you to say it again.”

nate’s expression softened.

“because i was in love with you.”

silence fell between you both, so complete you could hear the lake water gently hitting the shore behind the altar.

nate stopped breathing. literally. his blue eyes stayed locked on you, slightly widened in shock, like he had never expected those words to come out of your mouth, even though a part of him probably wished they were in present tense.

you let out a small, broken laugh from nerves and turned your head slightly toward the empty rows of chairs.

“sorry, dad,” you murmured, looking at an empty seat like he was sitting there. “i know you said not to fall in love with one of the team, but i tried really hard not to,” you looked back at nate. “especially after you started bringing girlfriends around.”

your eyes dropped to his hands.

“i used to picture this place… this whole stupid perfect wedding in my head when i was younger. and i used to imagine a man standing here waiting for me, but he never had a face. just… broad shoulders, hands i could trust,” you continued softly. “someone who looked at me like i was something worth waiting for.”

you swallowed hard. your throat was burning now, your voice starting to tremble at the edges.

“and for a long time i thought that was just a fantasy. something i made up because it was easier than wanting something real.”

you lifted your gaze back to him, that familiar knot tightening in your chest.

“but then you kept showing up at my house. like it was the most normal thing in the world. like you were always supposed to be there, annoying me, teasing me, making me roll my eyes at you.”

a small smile flickered on nate’s face, like he was trying to hide it, lowering his gaze for a second.

“you were there when my parents fought downstairs and i didn’t want to come out of my room,” you continued with a soft, breathy laugh. “you were there eating everything in our kitchen after practice. and you were there making fun of my terrible boyfriends.”

that got a bigger smile out of him. he looked up again.

“they were terrible,” he said, turning his head toward the empty chairs. “cale can confirm that.” he pointed at a seat like it meant something, making you laugh through your tears.

“and the worst part is…” your voice dropped again. “i stopped comparing people to the man i imagined a long time ago.”

nate’s brows pulled in slightly, fully focused now.

“because i started comparing them to you…”

you lifted your eyes. his were already on you.

nate froze for a second. he thought about every moment you’d spent together and the way you looked at him, and something in his mind clicked like you had always looked at him as if he already belonged to you, but you never dared to claim him. It had always been you.

“bambi…” he murmured near your lips, almost like a soft warning.

his fingers on your cheek barely moved, and in that smallest gesture there was already a decision that had been made a long time ago.

“i think cale’s is gonna be really annoying about this,” he said, letting out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“about what?” you blinked, confused by the sudden shift.

nate looked at you like the answer was obvious.

“about being right.”

there was no time for you to process it.

nate pulled you toward him with a calm but final decision, like no other version of the story was possible anymore. his hand on your cheek tightened slightly, his thumb brushing your skin.

his lips found yours with an almost tentative softness, like he was testing the edge of something too important to ruin. for a second, the kiss was barely a touch and then it changed.

it wasn’t sudden, but more like his expression finally caught up with what his heart had already decided. the kiss deepened, firmer, and yet still gentle, like every movement was carefully measured just to bring you closer.

his hand on your back pulled you in further, closing the space that had already stopped existing. it felt like the world had gone completely silent. like it was something that had been waiting far too long to finally become real.

when you pulled apart, it was only enough to breathe. your fingers were still gripping his shirt, and his arms were still holding you close.

you left a quick kiss on his lips.

maybe Italy had always been your dream wedding place, but now you understood it was never about the place, it was about the person who made you feel like you didn’t need to run away from anything.

[writingisbetterthandying]

natemack, check! slow burn, check! history of lowkey bullying to cover up that initial attraction, check! amazing writing, check!

[nhlhockeylover]

upgrades were made! - nm29

nathan mackinnon x makarsister!reader

summary: trevor zegras was your boyfriend for 2 years until he’s drunk at a party and hooks up with his ex again, now you find yourself in denver eyeing your brothers attractive teammate

warnings: mentions of cheating, use of yn, not proofread (lmk if anything else)

a/n: sorry this is lowk horrible! (more parts soon)

——————————————————

ynmakar

♫ kali uchis - melting

liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, calemakar_, and others

ynmakar go flyers ! 🧡

calemakar_: never getting tickets to an avs game again

-> ynmakar: no please go avs

-> trevorzegras: traitor

jamie.drysdale: who’s the cutie on slide 3

-> trevorzegras: 😍

-> ynmakar: hop off 💔

trevorzegras: cute outfit babe 💕

-> ynmakar: aw thanks

-> flyers4life: new it hockey couple!!

trevorzegras

♫ zach bryan - oklahoma smokeshow

liked by ynmakar, philadelphiaflyers, jamie.drysdale, nhl, and others

trevorzegras: philly is pretty fun

ynmakar: cutie

liked by creator

jamie.drysdale: replacing me already

-> trevorzegras: could never replace you

-> ynmakar: he gets a reply and i get a like 💔

flyerscommunity: is this our year!

phillysports: is this girl makar’s sister?

-> ynmakar: yes ☺️

calemakar_

liked by coloradoavalanche, nhl, ynmakar, mackinnon29, tracymakar_ and others

calemakar_: i love my job

mackinnon29: 🔥 🔥

ynmakar: my brother is so tuff

-> calemakar_: traitor

-> ynmakar: sigh we’re still talking about that

coloradoavalanche: best defenseman in the world!

tracymakar_: handsome boy ! 💕

-> calemakar_: i love you tracy ❤️

-> ynmakar: aw cute

hockeyinsights

liked by flyerscommunity, dameliosfan, ducks24, and others

hockeyinsights: trevor zegras seen at a party with ex girlfriend dixie damelio, could him and yn makar have broken up?

dameliosfan: so wtf

flyerscommunity: noooo 💔💔

ducks24: come back to the ducks z!

-> hockeygoat: yeah so… not the time

-> dameliosfan: i feel so bad for yn they legit just posted each other 2 days ago….

texts between cale and yn

ynmakar uploaded a story!

trevorzegras has replied to your story!

trevorzegras: please baby we can talk about this

trevorzegras: it meant nothing i was drunk

ynmakar: you made your choice, now i make mine

ynmakar: we’re done

ynmakar has blocked trevorzegras!

ynmakar

♫ olivia rodrigo - the cure

liked by coloradoavalanche, calemakar_, tracymakar_, mackinnon29, and others

ynmakar: denver 📍

yourbestfriend: they say you get better hair when you dump a trash man!

-> ynmakar: i know that’s right

coloradoavalanche: so happy to have you at a game!

-> ynmakar: loving denver!

tracymakar_: love you so much yn!

-> calemakar_: getting replaced by my sister

-> ynmakar: i’m better ❤️❤️

avalanchefanclub: are we ignoring nathan mackinnon in the likes of cale makar’s younger sisters post 😭

liked by creator

-> yourbestfriend: apparently yn isn’t

mackinnon29

liked by ynmakar, coloradoavalanche, calemakar_, landeskog.92, and others

mackinnon29: hat trick 🎩

coloradoavalanche: that’s our mackinnon!

landeskog.92: doing what he does best

-> mackinnon29: thanks cap

calemakar_: best teammate i could ask for!!

-> mackinnon29: thanks for the passes

ynmakar: yes your tuff 🔥

liked by creator

avalanchefanclub: please get with cales sister!

-> avsfan: show why canada is better 🇨🇦 🔥

-> mackinnonmygoat: you guys realize yn is 26 right 💔

-> avsfan: i mean 4 years ain’t that much 🤷‍♀️

more texts between cale and yn

——————————————————

[writingisbetterthandying]

i love it when natemack is a bigger and better option!!

[writingisbetterthandying]

something abt being in cole harbour for the start of playoffs...waiting for natemack...hanging w sid while he’s not golfing or being sid

late spring early summer means fresh produce and staying up way too late to watch the series against the wild, pacing during intermissions and cooking for one

getting a little too excited when he fully bodies qh43 without missing a beat

facetimes spent talking and admiring his beard but also worrying abt him...he needs his rest...but the promise of the cup...“don’t worry babe—silver’s your color this year!”

“....”

“what’d i say?”

“...i’m hanging up”

but he still lets a little grumbly love ya slip through

giggling over the pool clip...but not maliciously bc nate’s smile when he comes up on the wall is impeccable...texting him you’d play mermaids with him anytime

stupid puck to the nose and all you can do is curse devon but it was just wrong place at the wrong time...2nd period intermission he laughs so hard at the concerned stream of texts when he peeks at it that he gets the blood flowing again

finally reuniting before game 5 and kissing all over his face until he’s grumbling, even if you’re extra tender around his further crooked nose

[writingisbetterthandying]

first time for everything

matt rempe x hughes!reader, hughes brothers x sister!reader

matt is baby!hughes’s lots of firsts!! not her first kiss (ty zegras) but basically is and wait?! first real fight with her brother(s)??

wc: 3.5k, varied formatting

warnings: sibling fight/banter/jack's an a-hole, cursing...

i finally got the writing bug! (once every 2 years) and decided to do some angst...my fav lowkey...been picking at this one since christmas! no physical descriptors of reader so could be adopted! and i think she’s like 1-2 years younger than luke. gonna link similar fics with hughes!reader soon 😎 also no use of ai for my fics or to my fics! i just love me an em-dash

baby!hughes who played mini sticks with the boys growing up, played in high school, but an acl tear threw a wrench in a future career. she’ll lace up for an outdoor rink but rarely picks up a stick anymore. luke and quinn love chirping jack that she’s still a better forward. even though she’s not playing, she’s still her brothers’ #1 fan and def has a split jersey to support all 3!

baby!hughes who’s always under jack’s arm in pictures old and new. before baby!hughes he felt classically middle child and he loves being big bro. with the age gap he finally feels like he gets to be more like quinn is to luke. obviously all of them love her and have protective big brother tendencies! but quinn is the safe quiet space, luke is her bestie and partner in crime (since they’re closest in age) but jack is all over the place! he’s her fiercest cheerleader and advocate, but these two also bicker the most

baby!hughes who finishes her degree! since she’s first of her siblings to actually graduate it’s a massive celebration—probably as big as luke’s draft party, if not bigger. they’re all in their big brother feels and just so so proud (and a little obnoxious) but jack is the most obvious, even if he swears his sniffles and red eyes are just from the pollen of the massive bouquet he’s holding during her grad

baby!hughes who doesn’t really date! always had a crush on trevor, but after an awkward smooch on the dock one summer lets it fizzle. jack still has no idea. baby!hughes had no idea that he just lost his nerve and was a total boy after. she’s 100% off limit to the boys visiting each summer! especially luke’s friends from u mich

baby!hughes who deals with unwanted male attention (aka shallow fanboys) and assumes that’s all the dating pool is! vents to her brothers about no one being interested in her but it’s never that deep and they’re always protective joking back w/something like “good. shouldn’t be dating until you’re like 45 anyways.” (little did she know each brother had at least one friend with a massive crush on her, but after almost synchronized death glares across the kitchen, or bonfire, or boat...each dropped their confidence on ever following through)

baby!hughes who ends up working in manhattan. probably has a million and one petty fights with jack as he insists on her moving in with him and luke. decides to compromise with a mandatory sibling day once a week and going to all games within a two hour drive. sees jack nd luke a lot but quinn has major fomo even if he doesn’t always say it and is worried they’d rope her into something stupid so any family time is even more sacred than before!! especially with the limited pto she gets from her first big girl job they make strict no phone rules when they can finally meet back up

baby!hughes who met matt organically in line for coffee in the spring—neither knowing their mutual connection initially with a very cute although slightly awkward meeting, but she pieces him together much quicker than he realizes her connection to the league

baby!hughes who is endeared with matt but is just shy and unsure how to pursue anything! matt who’s very aware of the cliche he’s living being interested in his rivals’ baby sister. very cautious and is always checking the pacing of their budding relationship is good given it’s her first, and he’s always talking to his sisters and mom for advice!

baby!hughes who respects and loves her sibling time so they remain oblivious to her budding romace as she facetimes him getting ready or recapping her day in hushed voice notes in her limited moments alone in her week at the lake

baby!hughes who is over the moon when matt officially asks her to be his gf!! she’s so giddy she spills the beans to ellen like immediately. keeps his last name quiet but still shares about how he has sisters she can’t wait to meet, how he shows her around town, and yes he has a stable job! he just happens to travel a lot for work...

baby!hughes who can’t wait to tell her brothers! they’ve been on a string of roadies but she’s been dying to tell them, especially luke (who endured the trevor train not a crazy amount of summers ago) but she’s hoping to find the right moment, and is scared of what they think but hopeful! matt is a gentleman and goofball and more with her, so she’s thinking about him with boyfriend lens! he just happens to play in the league!

baby!hughes who freaks at thanksgiving when she suggests putting on the game and they all cheer when rangers players are checked into the boards, chirping them throughout, then celebrating the king’s win like they themselves had won the cup. ellen who notices her daughter turn into herself as the periods dragged on, pulling herself away from the game to the kitchen. the rest of the beans are quickly spilled

baby!hughes who’s trying to do her best as she sees her brothers each going through it. jack’s whole hand fluke and desire to get back out there, luke dealing with pressures of a sophomore season and living up to his massive new contract, and quinn being traded and uprooted from his second home in van.

baby!hughes who misses her first home game ever midway through the season when her bestie came to her door in tears from getting dumped on her way out to the train. after a few apologetic voicemails and promises to rewatch the game for her notes, a little groveling is had but it smooths over (jack especially loves getting notes from his younger sister, the details she picks up and her own experience helping him ups himself to be better)

baby!hughes who’s been dating matt for a few months. they’re going steady! matt’s lease is almost up but before any considerations of moving in together can happen, she really wants her brothers to know. not that she needs their permission, but having their stamp of approval on her first ever real relationship was important.

baby!hughes who decides to tell her brothers over dinner while quinn’s in town! they all come into the city to see her apartment, and she figures neutral ground of a new steakhouse was the perfect way to butter them up. she had just met matt’s sisters, and with how well it went, she couldn’t wait to have matt meet her brothers.

quinn’s staying with her for his ny minute, which makes the secret keeping harder than she’d thought. she’s jumpy and quiet, almost subdued, which is definitely unusual when she’d typically be talking his ear off about anything and everything. he knows that she’d come to him first, so doesn’t pry, but tries a little harder to appease her. going shopping with her, trying the new matcha place she had sent so many reels about, swapping his current read with her, all just to see her smile.

it works and her quinn time gives her peace of mind to finally tell her brothers about her relationship. since he’s in her apartment though, she’s been unable to practice her spiel, as she had done...over and over...in the shower, in the kitchen, and to matt at least twice a week. matt was a good sport about it though! but he was honestly too nervous about their reaction himself to fully commit to “playing” her brothers as she tried to anticipate what might go down, “matty!! do you even hear yourself? in what world would luke say that!” and he has to balance teasing but also his fear since he’s never met the brothers really off the ice.

baby!hughes who snaps halfway through eating and puts down her fork a little too loudly,

“i have news!” none of them are really that surprised, given the fidgeting and lack of excitement when usually she’d be going off about the reviews she’s read, or telling them what drinks she wants them to order so they can all sample. she loves her brothers but is also crazy intimidated by the mix of apprehensive, suspicious, and a little bit scared look they all carry.

“what’s up bug?” luke asked from beside her, reaching out his hand with his palm up, just in case she needed the support. she quickly grasped his hand but could barely look any of them in the eye, instead squeezing her eyes shut as she took in a deep breath and with an exhale, muttered “i’m maybe kinda seeing someone—well more than seeing it feels serious but it’s not serious until he meets you guys obviously but i really like him and yeah.”

as she trailed off, they each were processing. the silence was a bit painful, so she picked her fork back up and pushed the food around on her plate, unable to meet their eyes. luke has a half frown, sad he didn’t know first (or at all). quinn recognizes the need to support first, even though he’s shocked, the first thing out of his mouth was “so uh, does he make you happy? wait—so who is this guy??” jack is unreadable, jaw ticking.

“he’s really nice, i really want you guys to meet him, i mean i just met his sisters and it went really well and yeah! wanted you guys to know there actually was someone before springing him on you but guys i finally have a boyfriend! 'nd he really likes me for me and we met in line for coffee and it was really cute and he treats me well, and don’t worry mom knows but also hasn’t met him—want you guys to do that first and—”

“bug, breathe.” there’s an exaggerated inhale and exhale together before luke continued, “so...your boyfriend’s gotta name? or does he go to another school, or is he like from canada so we can’t meet him...” he wasn’t crazy ecstatic about not being in the know, but could tell her nervous rambling was ramping up, so went straight to teasing to diffuse the tension.

quinn notices how her shoulders dropped at the teasing, but also how wide her eyes became at the mention of canada. “lukey’s right on the money, huh bug? anything else about this mysterious canadian man of yours?” this was all starting to feel like a bad game of guess who, and even though it’d be hard to narrow it down to a certain ranger, it wouldn’t exactly be impossible.

“does he play?” was the first question jack barely spat out, interrupting his own brooding. she hesitantly tucked her lip before nodding, not quite picking up his tone. realizing at this rate it’d be like pulling teeth she bites the bullet and squeaks out “it’s matt rempe, okay!” before a little more confidently sharing “i’m dating matt. we’re happy.” and then after a pause, she repeated herself more quietly: “he likes me for me.”

quinn just smiled, shaking his head, jack was once again unreadable, but luke gave her hand a gentle squeeze before it was straight back to teasing, “so bug...you have a type!”

“ugh, no luke! that’s not what—”

“oh c’mon bug, you’re tellin’ me you don’t have a type?”

“well he is kinda like my first boyfriend ever, dingus,” she frowned halfway, but knew he wasn’t being too mean about it.

“well you kissed trevor at the lake, what was that? like 4 years ago?!” she hesitated for a split second before letting out a panicked squeal and dropping his hand quickly to slap it over his mouth. if she had been less embarrassed about her biggest secret up until matt being exposed, she would’ve laughed at the contrast between surprise on quinn’s face making his eyebrows shoot up, with jack’s eyebrows furrowing deeper.

she sputtered before getting out “that was one time luke! what happened to not saying anything?!” she let her hand fall before he could lick it or something. he just smirked before grumbling something about her being all aboard the trevor train, while quinn just chuckled fondly in the back of his hand, having had a hunch himself.

after the giggles and fake broken trust settles, quinn asks for the check and they all head out towards the car together, planning on having a sibling movie night in. as quinn opens the car door for her, he quietly shares that “‘m glad you felt safe enough to share with us, bug. tell me when 'nd i’ll gladly meet him with you.” a soft, shy smile graces her face as quinn drives them back to her apartment. she quickly shoots off a text to matt but puts her phone down as soon as she catches jack’s glare from the rear view mirror.

baby ❤️: just finished up w dinner! no one yelled and quinn wants to meet you when the time’s right! full debrief soon

luke’s the one who decides to break the tension as she glances at her phone with matt’s response before putting it away, “c’mon jack attack, why so grumpy? y’not happy for bug?” he sounds generally worried, as quinn makes a sort of huff in agreement. nobody realized the simple prodding would cause such a fuss as they exited the car into the empty parking lot, headed towards her elevator.

“i just—the kid’s reckless, bug! he was suspended! he’s a fuckin’ ranger!” jack practically spits the words out, his hurt disguised by his harshness. baby!hughes hasn’t processed it yet but quinn and luke give each other a look--an unspoken "where is this going," hesitantly concerned but still protective. yes, jack and baby!hughes once had half a summer of silence over a blowout fight after he misplaced her favorite book, but that was preteen pettiness. them bickering over her not wanting to move in with them was just his way of being protective, which was annoying but everyone knew it was from a good place. his tone now though, was something else entirely.

“i know what team he plays for, jack. your rivalry—i get it, but he’s not his team—” the four of you had paused, quinn and jack just barely ahead, having sat in the front, baby!hughes and luke a few feet behind. luke really wished jack would learn to think before he speaks, but he just kept going,

“yeah that’s what he wants you to think—is that why you missed that last home game?? hanging around msg trying to see how the wag suite feels?” he practically sneered the words out, getting nasty.

“what are you talking about? my friend had just been dumped! i thought we were over this! why are you being such a dick right now?” jack’s words stung, but baby!hughes knew what she was getting into, not about to just let it up that easily. she could stand her ground.

“y’think i’m being a dick? i find out my little sister’s slutting it up for the enemy—lying to us all? going around town like some fuckin’ i dunno puck bunny? i’m not allowed to react?”

“woah jack! hey man—gone too far” quinn stepped in, grabbing jack’s shoulder to pull him back; the shock of jack’s words preventing him from stepping in earlier. he wondered briefly how much jack had listened to their sister during dinner, or if he had heard any part of it at all but jack pushes through, shrugging off quinn’s firm hand.

“i’m not done. not only did you apparently whore it up with one of my best friends—at my fucking lake house right under my nose, now you’re sleeping with rempe? i know you’ve been off the ice a bit but are you really that desperate to get back in the game you had to get in as a wag? well i mean c’mon let’s be real. that was always the only way—i mean, even without your acl you would’ve been stuck in my shadow. you’d be nothing without me, baby sis. let’s be real.”

luke, who had been somewhat calmly trying to hold his sister, shielding her, snapped at that. maybe it was the own constant media comparison to quinn, playing the same position—or maybe it was because she was frozen with shock, fear, disbelief and her eyes quickly welling up with large tears—or maybe it was because he had never heard such ugly words from his older brother. bringing up her injury in such a throwaway manner was beyond a dick move, and hearing the way jack was slut shaming his sister was heartbreaking.

“jesus, man! the fuck’s gotten into you?” luke had never seen jack get so nasty. was luke a fan of rempe? no, but he loves his baby sister beyond any rivalry any day. it was a big step to share this, and the whole night felt off now. jack, although pissy to the media and sometimes straight up an ass, was a standup guy! the a on his jersey showed that; the way ellen raised him showed that; the way he usually showed up for all of his siblings showed that.

“i’m just saying what everyone already knows i guess; i mean hell rempe’s probably doing it to piss me off! ranger's know that's the only way for them to get by huh?” luke decides to push past with baby!hughes, knowing nothing would get resolved right now with jack so heated. quinn was almost at a loss for words, unsure of why baby!hughes’s relationship was making jack feel so insecure, so unwanted to lash out this way. luckily, he found his voice:

“jack i don’t know where the hell this is coming from but you’re so out of line right now i don’t even recognize you. you’re tearing into bug and for what? you’ve been in a shit mood all night and yelling at her like that you’re a shit brother right now. why can’t you be happy for her? she’s spent the whole time i’ve been here nervous about finally sharing—and then you bringing up her injury like that? yeah, you’ve had season ending injuries but she put it down for good. and slut shaming her? for what was probably just a peck with trev? mom raised you better than that. did you wake up deciding you didn’t want a sister anymore? it’s like you didn’t even hear anything she said at dinner at all. honestly, you should go back to jersey tonight. don’t want you around bug right now. i mean, jesus jack—i don’t know if i wanna be around you right now. you’re my brother and i love you but i don't think i've ever seen her cry like that and i don’t know how to look at you.”

baby!hughes who is genuinely inconsolable inside her apartment. luke is holding her closely on the couch, trying to keep himself together while trying to murmur words of encouragement.

jack left without much of a fight, having deflated after quinn's talk. quinn closes her apartment door with a sigh, and upon seeing his youngest siblings trying to deal with the turn of the evening.

he thinks his heart cracks a little further as he approaches, realizing baby!hughes is barely breathing, the tears streaming down, her face hot. he looks over to luke's face to see slight panic, anger, and fear.

quinn joins them on the couch, and baby!hughes barely realizes when she's shifted over into her oldest brother's lap. luke gets up to pace the floor, hands quickly finding his hair. quinn holds her head with one hand, the other rubbing her back as he tries to soothe her into slowing her breathing.

"i just don't get it! i mean what the fuck was he on just now? the comparison? that was just straight up cruel--" luke's heated rant was interrupted by a sharp glare from quinn, a silent 'not the time' that was eventually received. after a deep pause, Luke continued, albeit at a much lower volume.

"sorry, bug. it just sucks that it happened, but i'm always on your side. y'know us babies gotta stick together, huh?" quinn couldn't help the snort he let out at that; luke, at his age and his stature referring to himself that way just made him realize how young (and a little stupid) his brother still was.

while things were nowhere near solved, there was more lightness in the room than there had been. baby!hughes's tears had finally slowed a little, relaxing into her older brother. luke joins them eventually, reaching for the remote to turn on something brainless.

baby!hughes who falls asleep not even 15 minutes into the movie. quinn and luke wordlessly trying to figure out what's next. in the morning, she'd be still upset, hurt, and then as it shifts to anger neither of them really wanted to be there for the fallout.

[writingisbetterthandying]

my first post to ever hit 1k notes...i'm a little overwhelmed!! thank you for your support!!

here is a list of recs for some of my inspo as i wrote!

matt rempe x hughes!reader

good girls by @/stereoqueen it's fluffy it's brotherly also i had a big ol 5sos phase so this hits knowing the inspo!! untitled by @/fangirlmermaid love how silly!! one of my first exposures to the trope!! she's who's sister? by @/wintersd3vils love me a good smau!!! less forbidden more just secret at first!!

protective big bros don't approve! (various x hughes!reader)

not so little by @/uglyducklingofthe2000s nico hischier x hughes!reader | not so big on nico but sucker for the protectiveness and then subsequent groveling!!! "just say something, olivia" by @/ghostfacd gabe perreault x oc!hughes | will make you frown in best way possible!! amazing hurt comfort

general hughes!reader favs

hughes sister series from @/trevorzyngras generally obsessed with just about everything on this account!!!!! like lakehouse gc is perfect to me but so is hughes!sister everything (especially the banter) i'm obsessed!! stella hughes series from @/wintfleur "suspect" trend w/luke ugh my heart genuinely such a fav

since all the olympics fallout (my thoughts here) i decided to not mention acc's just in case writers are no longer supporting!! all of them are phenom show stopping talented etc...but i also am trying my best to read the room...

[kniesonice]

No Thing Defines A Man Like Love That Makes Him Soft ╰┈➤ NM29

summary: everyone knows that nathan mackinnon is a hard ass. monotonous. grumpy. maybe even a little boring to the outside perspective. then there’s you, who’s the complete opposite—giggly, bubbly, loud and cries anytime the titanic soundtrack plays. he should hate you—you’re all that plus cale’s little sister—but he just can’t. so nathan just pretends. but it’s not easy when his teammates start seeing through the facade.

[word count] 14.8k

warnings: MATURE! grumpy x sunshine trope | friends to lovers | obvious pining | humour / crack | cliches | drinking | swearing | mentions of throwing up (from drinking) | the most soft yearning nathan mackinnon you ever did see | a kiss | mentions of smut | timelines that make no sense obviously | mature themes and dialogue | read at your own discretion

pairing: nathan mackinnon x makar!reader

authors note: if you don’t like nate you’re just lying to yourself! kidding, kidding. but in all seriousness, I love writing for him so much and what better way than to do a little brothers teammate/ sunshine x grumpy trope :) title from strawberry wine by noah kahan.

lace dividers from @cursed-carmine

🎶 strawberry wine by noah kahan, bells & whistles by megan moroney and kacey musgraves, fool for you by zayn, wishful dreaming by 5 seconds of summer, staying by lizzy mcalpine, the longest goodbye by role model + kiss it better by rihanna

PART ONE: superman's citrus kryptonite

nathan mackinnon knows you've arrived landy's annual avs pre season afternoon barbecue once he hears your all too familiar laugh echo throughout his perfectly groomed backyard.

in nathan’s defense, it's a very distinctive laugh. loud, bright, and completely unrestrained. and you also usually snort, like a pug, which he would never admit he finds endearing, but he definitely does.

it's spills over the low hum of conversation and the crackle of the grill in front of him, cutting through everything else like it belongs at the center of it all. it bounces off the wooden fence, carries over the clink of bottles and the thud of a cooler lid slamming shut, and somehow manages to shoot right through nathan's chest.

he exhales slowly through his nose and forces himself to not look around like a lost puppy until he can spot you. because that would just be...obvious. the air smells like charcoal and something sweet—barbecue sauce, probably—thick and warm under the late afternoon sun. but when nathan takes a deep breath in, he swear he can only smell your perfume.

fruity, clean, and light. he'd never admit it, but one time he smelt almost 30 bottles in a marshall's, trying to find something that remotely resembled you.

but don't get it twisted, nathan mackinnon isn't a freak—or a pervert or anything else in that realm. he's just...no, he can't think of that right now.

someone's playlist hums in the background, bass low and steady, and just loud enough to fill the quieter moments. if there were anyway. but erik is yelling in the pool as he plays marco polo with the kids, and kadri is going crazy at corn hole. and you're still laughing.

"...and then I tripped," you're saying, voice animated. surely, your hands are moving as much as your words. like windmills. "like fully tripped—no recovery, no saving it—just straight down in front of everyone."

a chorus of reactions follows—laughs, groans, someone who sounds suspiciously like mikko mutters no way.

nathan keeps his composure, smashing some more burgers on landy's black stone like he's not actively yearning to catch even just the smallest glimpse of you. but he doesn't need to look because he can picture it anyway—your expression, the way your eyes go wide, and the inevitable grin that would follow like embarrassment is just another thing you turn into a joke.

he can't help but smile down at his feet just as the thought.

"you're lying," a different voice sounds. definitely ashley kadri, he thinks. it's confirmed when you briefly start cooing at nylah. always easily distracted.

eventually, you continue. "I swear! there was, like, a full second where I thought I could play it off, and then—nope." you clap your hands together once, sharp. "gone. and so was my popcorn, all over the floor of the theatre."

more laughter follows, and nathan's got to press his back molars together. god, who even is he?

it all started on a summer evening the year after their stanley cup winning run. everything smelt like sunscreen and chlorine. ice coffees melting faster than they can be drank. and the team, still high from winning the whole damn thing, decided to have some sort of celebration—a big lunch thing for friends and family at a local denver spot.

cale introduced you in passing. his kid sister, fresh out of college, coming out to denver to live closer with who you called your sibling turned best friend. nathan can relate, he feels that close with sarah as well.

he barley noticed you at first. well, that's technically a lie. because obviously he noticed your yellow sundress, and the way your smile lit up the entire restaurant, and how everyone seemed to gravitate towards you without knowing more than just your name.

but it was just a quick glance, a tight nod and a clipped—hey, nice to meet you—as nathan put out his calloused palm for you to shake. but you didn't shake it. no, you brushed it off with another smile and claimed you were a hugger, before pushing up onto your toes to embrace him.

you should've been his worse nightmare...so why for that entire evening could he not stop looking at you? and it's not like you didn't notice it—he wasn't exactly subtle from across the long table, wedged between EJ and melissa landeskog. how his eyes would keep flicking back to you when he thought you weren't looking, how he went unnaturally still when you laughed—like he was trying to memorize the sound without letting himself react to it.

he didn't ask you questions, didn't lean in, never smiled the way everyone else does—but he listened. it was easy to think he didn't like you. hell, at one point melissa turned to him, voice all hushed and straight up asked what his deal with you was.

but nathan didn't have an answer, which only made him look guiltier. but he was blushing and melissa knew. then landy, and then all of his teammates had this sort of suspicion that even they don't believe half the time.

even to this day, it would be easy to think he doesn't like you—he kind of makes sure of that, all distance and short answers and carefully controlled indifference—but there's something just slightly off about it.

too deliberate and too practiced like he's trying not to give himself away. and over the past few years, it seems to have worked at getting his teammates off his back, but it doesn't change the fact that deep down, ever seen you walked into the restaurant in that yellow dress, nathan has been obsessed with you. adores you. wants you.

wants you in every way he shouldn't want someone that much younger than him. someone who's related to one of his closest teammates. someone who is the complete opposite of himself. but he does—he wants all the late night pillow talks, the arguing over what colour to paint the living room walls, the sweet kisses and babies and everything in between.

but if someone was to ask? deny, deny, deny. sure—he'd say, acting indifferent—y/n is nice but she's just not my cup of tea. nathan mackinnon will lie through his perfect teeth before ever admitting to one of his insufferable friends that he has feelings for you.

the sound of your laughter breaks nathan out of his own thoughts. he curses to himself as one of the burgers starts smoking—blackened and charred. whoops, that's what he gets for thinking about you like that. your laugh, your mannerisms, your scent....no!

he turns away from the grill and grabs a drink from the open cooler by his feet. maybe a little harder than necessary when a few ice cubes shoot up and over the edge. the cold beer can seeps into his palm, a nice distraction from his own racing mind.

nathan exhales as he straightens, slow and measured, willing himself to chill the fuck out.

without wanting to burn anymore food, or get an earful from his captain, nathan turns heel back towards the grill. only, he's momentarily stunned when he sees you making your way over to him.

fuck.

your eyes meet and you're already grinning, expression brightening like seeing him is the best part of your day. maybe it is. and you weave through people with an ease that feels practiced and natural. effortless even.

he straightens slightly without meaning to. he still hasn't blinked by the time you stop in front of him, close enough that he can catch that faint citrusy scent. the long, white sleeves of your top are pushed up, some lacy, frilly thing that probably costs too much. you've paired it with jean cut offs and sandals, looking like a dream.

"hi nate," you say, slightly breathless from the heat and your trek across the yard. you reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear, passing your neck.

he gulps, burger press and can of beer still in hand. "y/n, hi."

there's a pause that follows, and in that you take the time to study him. and you're not shy about like he would be. it's open, and curious like you're trying to figure something out.

you hum, light a breezy, stepping impossibly closer. if you shifted an inch to the right, the knuckles that have gone white around his beer can, would brush your boobs. jesus.

"you look like you'd rather be literally anywhere else."

he swallows. puts down the beer. very careful to avoid touching your covered nipples or anything else just as incriminating. "i'm fine."

there's that hum again. unconvinced or something similar sounding at the back of your throat. your eyes dance over his features softly, and nathan has to force them to stay stoic. "scale of one to ten?" you prompt.

of course you're asking him that. it's just so you—so much so that it gets him to crack a smile. a barely there thing, half upturned lip that resembles a smirk more than anything. but a smile nonetheless. because you're the only one who could be asking him to rate his experience on a scale and nathan get all giddy about it.

however, he keeps his composure, getting back to the smokey grill and burgers. "i'm not doing a scale."

"okay," you drawl out, sliding in closer. "but if you were—"

"i'm not." he cuts in, sending you a look over his broad shoulder that says if you ask me one more time i'll totally rate it.

but you don't push. just grin—immediate and unfiltered. like that was exactly the response you wanted.

"landy come tell you how to properly do this yet?" you muse, all mock innocent, looking between nathan's tan face and the darkened, greasy stone.

"what?" he half bristles, stopping mid press. "I am doing it properly."

your grin only widens. "you're not, i've been watching and cringing for like, 10 minutes." it's an exaggeration, because nathan knows you've only been here for maybe 6.

"you're so full of it. there's no wrong way to smash a burger."

your mouth falls like he's just declared something catastrophic. like pineapple belongs on pizza. or that new moon is the worst movie in the twilight franchise. he can't help but roll his eyes at your dramatics, but he's also obsessed with them so he can't help the grin splitting his face again.

if someone was to look over, they'd think he's having a stroke. because there's no way that nathan fucking mackinnon would be having a good time with y/n makar—who is unarguably his complete opposite. if your personalities were powers, yours would be his kryptonite.

"there absolutely is," you tell him, "and you're butchering it." not waiting for a response, you push your way between him and the grill, and nathan is immediately hot with two things. your scent up close, expect now there's also something vanilla-y about it—a shampoo or something. and the second is that your ass is pretty much against his crotch, which is a whole new territory.

he swears lowly, so quiet that you don't hear it. or maybe you don't hear it because you're too busy trying to grab the burger press from his hand.

"i'm serious. let me do it." you say, looking at him over your shoulder. it shouldn't be so sexy because you're surrounded by everyone and there's kids running around with snotty noses and popsicles. but somehow it is.

nathan tries to put some distance between your bodies, but it only ends up with him bumping into a chair, which then sends him jumping back into you.

"you've never even grilled before." his protest is weak, because he can't even fucking concentrate properly.

"that not the point—give me the pressy thing."

and he does. of course he does. and you smile triumphantly like it's more than just a burger press.

with your bodies still an inch from being together in a way that would be indecent, nathan watches over your head as you start pressing against the balls of raw beef, flattening them and all their inter-webbed seasoning against the stone.

"see," you slightly grunt, putting real strength into it. but you're also laughing, joyful and happy. far too much enthusiasm for cooking burgers, but nathan feels proud like you're accomplishing something greater.

grease pops, making you flinch and yelp back into his strong chest. his warm palm settles on your torso—right on the sliver of skin between your shorts and top—meaning to steady you, but as soon as he's touching your bare skin, nathan’s forgotten how to breathe like a normal person.

you laugh at yourself, shaking out your hand. the grease must've made contact.

he blinks, "are you okay?" his eyes then asses you at the speed of lightning. fingers, palm, wrist. then briefly over the rest of your exposed skin, checking for grease related injuries. he finds none.

you spin, still pressed close. a smile on your face. "i'll be better when you let me do the next round as well."

"do I really get a say if you continue?"

"nope." and then you're back at it, grabbing more meat from the blue and white patterned bowl beside the blackstone, dropping it down with a splat (which makes you snort and make some comment about it looking like plankton from spongebob on the bottom of a shoe).

but he forces himself to look away from you. because you're too much in the best, most overwhelming way possible.

thankfully, gabe comes over and immediately starts telling you that your smash burgers are better than nathan's—which has you fucking floating. it's good, because he's sure if he was alone with you and your smell and your pretty lips and annoying laugh a minute longer, he would've done something stupid like kiss the shell of your ear. or tell you how he feels.

but he knows he just...can't.

PART TWO: reel it in

the line to the downtown nightclub curls halfway down the block. a slow moving, impatient thing made up of heels on concrete, low conversations, and the distant thud of bass leaking through the club doors. the night air is warm for september, but in that sticky, city way—perfume and exhaust and something sweet drifting from somewhere nearby.

every few seconds the line shifts forward just enough to make it feel like progress. nonetheless, you're practically vibrating in the spot.

"okay, no, but this was a good idea," you insist for what has to be the third time, turning halfway around to face the group, hands uselessly flailing around as if gesturing to it. the club. the line. who knows. "like, objectively, this is fun already."

you're already tipsy. borderline plastered and already in that state where it's a gamble whether you'll remember from here on out in the morning.

"it's a line," erik mutters behind you, hands tucked into his jacket.

you shoot him a pointed look. "and you're old."

he snorts.

"besides, it's the anticipation," you correct, grinning. "very exciting."

nathan stands just off to the side, adjacent to your bare shoulder. he's close—close enough that if you leaned back even slightly, you'd bump into him. he lets himself think about that for only a second. wrapping you up, forearm around your collarbones.

he hasn't said much since you all got here, which was about 15 minutes ago. actually—he hasn't said much since you told him the plan earlier in the week.

because...clubs aren't his thing. their loud, crowded and unpredictable and everything he tries to avoid. in other words, they're exactly like you. everyone knows that, and when you mentioned wanting to do this for your birthday, you said that you didn't expect him to come because of his hatred for the party lifestyle.

and yet here he is. black button down open to reveal his white t-shirt, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. jaw tight like he's already over it, eyes scanning the street instead of the line. instead of you.

in all honesty, he hasn't been able to properly look you in the eye without going through an internal crisis since he pulled up to landy's, where you had already been getting ready with mel, tracey and ashley.

he had walked in and could already smell you, which was a whole thing in itself. but then you came waltzing down the stairs, glittery and dressed like that. a tight complicated looking dress that looks painted on—paired with a birthday sash and crown. even though your birthday wasn't technically till midnight.

nathan tried to look unaffected when you hugged him, drunk and loud, but erik had caught on. and nathan knew that he did—so he's been avoiding both erik and your eyes since then to save some face.

it's not until you spin, unsteadily, to face him that nathan looks at you properly again. mostly because he's scared you're going to fall on your face, so he's already got his hands out to steady you.

but you don't fall, only giggle when the crown stars to slip. you shimmy closer to him through the packed line, which hasn't moved since the last time, and blink up at him like a doll.

"you're gonna hate it in there," you say.

he avoids breathing through his nose when he replies, because you smell like fucking heaven. tequila as well, but that's not even a problem.

"I won't." he lies. just then, a couple of drunk frat guys come stumbling out of the club, yelling something about their greek affiliations that make nathan pull a face.

you squint, teasing and accusing all the same. "you already do."

he looks back at you and forces his features back to that unaffected, neutral look that he uses in every interview. "I don't."

"you're scowling."

"i'm not scowling."

you lean in slightly, still peering up at him. like you're inspecting the evidence. the crown slips down again, sitting against your eyebrow, but you don't notice. "you definitely are."

"i'm not."

you hum, unconvinced. "we'll fix that."

nathan not sure who we entails, but his mouth twitches despite that.

just then, erik just has to squeeze between where you're standing and gabe, meaning that you’re forced to shuffle closer into nathan's orbit to make room for the giant defender.

obviously, you don't care. practically snuggling up to nathan and all his warmth. meanwhile, he's freaking out. naturally.

and it's like you know that when you look back up at him, because your grin widens like you've just won something.

he, once again, has to immediately look away. jaw tightening to stone, composure snapping back into place. because maybe if these were different circumstances and nathan wasn't such a weirdo, he'd wrap his arms around you and keep you against his chest. press kisses to your jaw and neck until you're laughing at the feeling of his stubble—attempting to escape his hold but also not trying at all.

"you didn't have to come, you know," you say, nudging his chest lightly with your elbow, snapping him out of his thoughts. he blushes like he's been caught. you continue, "I wouldn't have been offended. I know you don't like all this stuff."

"I know." he shrugs. like...that's that. so simple.

"but you did anyway." you note, already half way back to grinning. the line inches forward. someone up ahead laughs too loudly, the bass inside the club pulsing stronger now every time the door opens. erik is still babbling on about something irrelevant with gabe.

nathan exhales, gaze still fixed somewhere over your shoulder. "it's your birthday...thing," he says eventually, like that's explains why he's like, abandoned his morals. and then like you don't know what he's talking about, he pokes at your lopsided crown.

you raise a brow.

then, ever so timidly and only after making sure all your friends weren't watching him with the eyes of a hawk looking for its dinner, nathan's knuckle hits the bottom of the crown and then pushes it back up. into place.

once he drops his hand, you tilt your head slightly, studying him. "yeah, it is."

he swallows the golf ball sitting in his throat. fingers itching to reach back up and graze your hair. or your forehead. frankly, any part of you would do. a beat passes, before he says anything more, eyes still locked with yours.

"so happy birthday," he adds, quieter.

your smile should be illegal. "thanks nate." then you add, tone almost conspiratorial. "although, it's not my birthday quite yet."

catching that comment behind you, erik makes a noise, now invading your bubble of space. "by the time we get in there it will be."

—

considering that the music sounded loud outside of the club, it shouldn't come as a surprise that when you, nathan and the rest of the group finally get inside, it becomes deafening—loud enough that it stops feeling like sound and starts feeling like something physical. settling in nathan’s chest and rattling his ribs with every beat.

the lights flash in quick bursts—neon blues and pinks and whites—catching on faces, on moving bodies, on raised hands and spilled drinks and everything in between. it's too much for nathan, and he's scowling again.

but all the reason he hates it are the exact reasons why you love it.

you're immediately wrapped up into the crowd with ashley, tracy and melissa. once again, you've all already been drinking and getting pumped up for this, so nobody can blame you. the guys kind of just hover at one of the tall tables that line the floor and bar, looking out for you all while also just…chilling before the season really begins, and nathan stars jumping on their asses for even thinking about beer.

he can't keep his eyes off of you, because of course he can't. and in the dark of the club, nathan isn't worried about being caught, so he lets his eyes roam over your figure freely. your dress, your legs, the glitter sash sitting between your boobs. it's ethereal. and then you smile, laugh, and nathan feels like he's ascending to the clouds.

you're enjoying yourself, that much as clear. and he thinks he's starting too as well.

it's only about 45 minutes after arriving that you seem to remember the guys even came with you, and when you manage to spot them through the crowd and squeeze through dancing sweaty bodies, you're gone. unsteady on your feet, and warm and light and giggly in that way that makes everything feel softer.

"nate!" you beam, appearing in front of him like you've been dropped out of nowhere. you practically fall into him, between the table and his torso. your front to his. "I missed you!"

the drinks you'd been nursing (and spilling) are long gone. nathan is sure you've been sneaking shots that he hasn't noticed, because he can smell them on your breath.

"you okay?" he asks like an idiot, completely ignoring the admission on purpose. gabe snickers at that from beside you, and nathan is sure to shoot his captain a look.

he looks back at you, eyes scanning your face—the too bright smile, the way you're bouncing a little on your toes without realizing it, the glassy, dazed look in your eyes.

"yes," you slur a little. "i'm great. this is the best night ever."

erik and naz snicker from across the table, finding humour in the way you’re drag your words and stumble into nathan's chest without evening meaning to. then, naz the little shit, calls your name with a teasing twinkle. "hey y/n, want another shot?"

and you gasp, like its the best idea you've ever heard. nathan groans like it's the worst. "no," he tells you and his way too amused teammate. "no more shots."

"but i'm thirsty," you all but pout, fisting the material of his shirt in your palm.

once he stops shooting daggers at his friend, he looks back down into your eyes. fuck, that damn pout. nathan keeps his hand at his side uselessly, even though he wants nothing more than the slide the pad of his thumb over your petruding bottom lip.

"that won't help," he tells you, gentle but firm. if nathan was a better man, he'd be embarrassed about how controlling and possessive he sounds over a girl that's not even his. but the other part of his brain, the one that can register the feeling of you pressed against him and the way you’re now playing with the fingers he's got wrapped around his beer bottle, doesn't think about how it looks.

in his moment of distraction (or weakness) you manage to take the bottle right out his hand and press it to your lips. he opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out when you begin to promptly down the entire thing without breaking his gaze.

jesus—

"I hate beer," you grimace, then hiccup in a way that almost makes you gag.

he takes the bottle and puts in on the table with an empty clink. "you didn't have to drink it," nathan reminds you, a hint of a grin on his face that you don't catch because he's dropped his head down next to your ear, so you can hear him over the roaring bass.

warm breath fans over your cartilage as he continues. "it was also mine."

you giggle at that, like you know that despite his authoritative tone, he's full of shit. pulling your head back just enough, you look back up at him, full of mischief and something else equally as belly swooping. "come dance with me."

nathan almost hesitates in telling you no. because you're just so beautiful and smiley, peering up at him like he's the best part of your night. but at his core, nathan is anything but submissive. especially when it comes to dancing in public.

"i'm not dancing." he tells you through a laugh.

you stare at him for a second—like you're trying to process that answer. just a second. "please," you say, drawing the word out. even go as far to tip your head back, giving him your most exaggerated, over the top pleading look. "it's my birthday."

and despite himself and all his best efforts, nathan mackinnon lets you drag him onto the dance floor.

—

by the time you all make it back to gabe and mel's place, the night has tipped fully into that blurry, disjointed kind of late. nathan doesn't even want to look at the clock above the fireplace because he knows it's way passed the time he usually sleeps. meaning his routine will be all fucked up tomorrow. but his heart tells him the way you're leaning all your weight onto him makes it worth it.

multiple pairs of heels are kicked off at the front door in uneven piles, erik is laughing too hard in the kitchen all things considering, and ashley is already halfway collapsed on the couch with her arm thrown dramatically over her eyes like she's been personally victimized by the evening.

your groan next to him, now considerably shorter with your shoes discarded. the smell of leftover takeout and sweet caramel candle wax mix together in a nauseating way. because despite nathan's best efforts, you managed to sneak a shot, or three, off of ej and naz when nathan wasn't paying attention.

and to your credit, you held on for a long time, including the ride home in the back of an uber—which is just a pukey nightmare. you had been squished between mel and nathan, gabe yapping away in the front to the driver about the upcoming season—because of course the driver was a fan. that's probably why he let you guys in the car, even though you looked like one stomach roll away from throwing up all over nathan's lap.

you manage to make it two steps into the living room before the level of your alcohol intake finally catches up to you.

you sway, lost of all colour and your grasp on reality. "oh no," you whine, sticky crown falling off your damp head and onto the floor.

cale looks over from the kitchen immediately, pausing his water chug. "what?"

"I don't feel—" you swallow, face scrunching as the room tilts just slightly. "I don't feel good."

that's all it takes. there's a chorus of uh ohs and yep there it is from your friends—minus ashley because she's already snoring on the couch. someone snorts (erik definitely), and someone else mutters something about it being inevitable (melissa probably), and before you can even properly complain, you're being gently yet firmly redirected down the hall.

"bathroom," your brother says, steering you towards the powder room at the front of the house.

"I know where the bathroom is," you mumble half heartedly, deeply offended for no real reason other than being drunk.

cale snorts when you walk into the door frame. "clearly."

you try to glare at him, but it doesn't stick as the bathroom light flickers to life. it reflects off the mirror, making everything feel worse.

you drop to your knees with significantly less grace than you'd like, bracing yourself against the edge of the toilet like it personally wronged you. "this is the worst day of my life," you declare after a violent, spitty dry heave.

the door clicks closed softly, shutting out most of the noise from the rest of the house.

"you're fine," a familiar voice that definitely doesn't belong to your brother says. nathan's voice is low and steady, like he's intentionally keeping things calm.

you don't even bother asking him what he's doing, because it's obvious enough. he's taking care of you, undeterred by your bile or the perspiration lingering by your hairline.

"i'm not fine," you argue immediately. "i'm dying."

he grins behind your back, "you're not dying."

"you don't know that." you whine, cheek dropping to the toilet seat until it's pressed flat. you can’t think about the germs, or else you'd start gagging again.

there's a soft huff—almost a laugh—as he moves closer. a second after he appears as a blur in your line of sight, you feel his hand on the side of your face, fingers gently pushing tangled hair back behind your ear. gently, not tugging.

"stay still," he murmurs.

"I am still," you protest, even though you're shifting and rubbing your hot cheek against his rough palm.

he almost throws up himself at that, simply because the feeling of you nuzzling against his skin is enough to send him on a roller coaster.

"oh my god," you mumble suddenly, voice muffled. "I feel like kat in that scene from 10 things I hate about you."

nathan's hand stills for a half a second against the side of your head. "what's that?"

your head snaps up—almost smacking his nose in the process—enough to look at him, completely scandalized. "you've never seen it?" you gasp, much to his amusement. "oh my god, nate, please watch it with me."

and then you gag over the toilet bowl again. nathan runs his hand up the nape of your neck without thinking, and takes ahold of your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you continue to heave.

"maybe when your head's not in a toilet bowl." he reminds you, firm yet gentle.

you blink at him when you've calmed down, tears in your eyes. then, despite everything—the nausea, the spinning, and the general state of your existence—you laugh.

it comes out a little weak, a little breathless and stinky, but neither of you seem to care. you because you're hammered, and nathan because he fucking, like, loves you.

"you're funny," you muse, like you've just discovered something shocking.

"i'm not." he breathes a laugh of his own.

"you are," you insist, turning your head slightly so you can look at him better. "you just pretend you're not when everyone's around."

he doesn't have a response to that. he just watches you for a second, expression unreadable but softer than it usually is, like the edges have been smoothed down by the privacy of the bathroom. and you. always by you.

"you hate this," you add suddenly, a little quieter now, wiping at your runny nose with the back of your hand. "tonight, I mean."

"I didn’t hate it."

"you hate clubs." you remind him.

he hums, "I do."

"and you came anyway."

he exhales lightly, gaze dropping for a moment before coming back to you. "yeah." his grip on your hair adjusts again, thumb brushing lightly near your temple like he's making sure everything stays out of the way.

and you're looking at him all fuzzy and sweet—nathan doesn't even care that you're all clammy and there's a little bit of puke on the toilet seat, because to him, you're still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

it's too much all at once, and he's on the brink of telling you thing he shouldn't—not only because you're drunk and gagging, but because he knows he can't.

"focus on not throwing up," he tells you instead, pushing away all mushy thoughts of kissing you and feelings and confessing out of his head.

"bossy." you mumble, smile faint as your eyes begin to flutter closed. exhaustion slowly creeping its way into your bones.

—

nathan isn't surprised when he walks downstairs and sees that you haven't woken up yet.

it's all decorated, courtesy of melissa who's smile changes when she sees it's him coming into the kitchen and not you. a big glitter birthday banner hags from the ceiling, along with balloons and a matcha drink with a candle on top—because you don't like cake.

the guys and tracy and ashley are scattered around the island, some noticeably worse for wear. erik groans like he's been shot when the toaster pops.

"it's bread," gabe snickers in the direction of his oldest teammate. "relax."

"you relax," erik hisses, heels of his palms pressed so deep into his eye sockets that it must be painful.

nathan sits down on one of the empty bar stools, looking like he didn't even go out last night. to be fair, he only had like two beers. and despite the time on the clock when he finally got you into bed and the went to sleep himself, nathan still managed to get up at the crack of dawn. where he then promptly took an hour in gabe's home gym to get his muscles moving, and then took a long hot shower.

because he kind of smelt like your perfume and your bile, which wasn't the most ideal. neither was staying up an extra hour once all the chaos has died down because he couldn't stop thinking about you. or your tiny dress, or how you looked at him while chugging his beer. or your drunk smile—especially that smile.

the stairs creak, and before he can be chill about the idea of seeing you this morning, nathan's head whips aorund so fast it's a shock that his neck doesn’t snap.

but it's not you, just the dog.

with a sigh, he faces forward again, gaze landing on the ice matcha with the pink candle melissa shoved into the straw opening. he itches to get up and put it in the fridge, because the ice is starting to melt and you hate when it's watery like that.

"you gonna bring that up to her?" gabe suddenly asks, leaning on the island directly across from him.

nathan blinks in suprise. "no?"

"why not?"

"she's probably still asleep." he huffs, and when gabe's knowing and all too pleased smirk starts to grow, nathan can't help but scoff. "don't you have food to cook?"

his captain laughs, bright and too loud, making nathan's scowl deepen. "and?"

his jaw tightens slightly. "and i'm not waking her up."

gabe tilts his head, studying him in that way that feels a little too perceptive. the eggs sizzle un-attended on the stove, and he briefly leaves nathan to flip them.

"you sat with her last night." he notes, looking over his shoulder at him.

nathan stills for half a second.

"cale told me," gabe adds easily. "said you didn't leave until everything settled."

he shrugs, like it's nothing, even though his stomach suddenly feels queasy at the prospect of his friend being able to read him so well. because if gabe knows, then melissa knows and then you'll know.

jesus, he needs to like go home or something.

"she wasn't feeling good." nathan answers like that all there is to it.

"right." gabe can only muse, but its layered. because he knows that nathan doesn't do this kind of shit. go to clubs, take care of drunk girls. fucking hold their hair back while they puke. its easy to see that nathan is down bad for you, no matter how much he tries to hide it from you, his friends, and himself.

thankfully, gabs doesn't add to that, only sliding a mug of decaf coffee across the counter until it sits between nathan's clenched fists.

and all the nova scotia native can do is pick up the mug and takes three scolding gulps.

PART THREE: 99 sonny angels on the wall

the next few months of nathan's life continue the exact same way they have since the moment he met you—switching between watching you from afar with his heart in his ass, and watching you up close, lightheaded from your scent, your smile, your laugh, and everything else about you.

at this point, it's more obvious than it's not. because nathan is almost giving up on try to hide it more so than he is trying to come across indifferent. he just can't with you.

it starts ramping up in the way all good things do, two weeks before the season is supposed to really start. cale and tracy are hosting an intimate engagement party that nathan just so happened to be invited to. and knowing you'd obviously be there—in the wedding party and the sister of the groom—he made sure to dress up as nice as he could with his lack of nice yet casual fashion knowledge, spray on cologne and prepare to spend an unknown amount of hours with you.

you'd been wearing some flowy and butter yellow. that's the first thing nathan noticed when he arrived halfway into the afternoon. you'd also been fluffing about a long desert table, telling one of tracey's college friends all about how the count bites were to die for. he had gravitated towards you without even realizing he was doing so.

up close, he could see that you were a little glassy eyed and flushed. but smiling so wide. always smiling. and the second your eyes landed on him, you gasped and skipped right up to his chest.

"nate!" you had beamed, tugging at the open collar of his linen button down. "I made you something." and nathan let you pull him around the backside of the table, a little dazed and totally not watching the way your hips swayed under your dress.

"cookies." you brightened when his eyebrows raised a fraction. "I looked up your whole, like, superstar diet thing," you explained, waving a hand vaguely. "and I made them with all the stuff you're allowed to have. less sugar, more...whatever it is you eat. they actually turned out really good."

he almost wanted to tell you everything in that very moment—seconds and one half bitten cookie away from dragging you further into the garden to kiss you silly.

but he didn't.

and then the season started, and where nathan should've been completely focused on hockey and his own high performance schedule, he was focused on you.

your name brought up in passing in the locker room? nathan's head was snapping up to listen in. cale mentioning his family coming down to watch a game? nathan's wondering if you'll be with them. a dinner at a teammates house? nathan's all nonchalant (no he's not) wondering if you'll be attending.

then there was that one dinner party at the kadri's, where you were sat next to nathan. he'd been trying not to look at you because he was trying to remain composed, but you laughed at something ej said and put your hand on nathan's thigh—and he almost choked on his steak, leaving him a coughing blubbering mess while you thumped on his spine and ej just laughed at the ordeal.

and he couldn't even be mad about it, because you were so concerned, and so sweet and made some little joke about not choking for you again anytime soon. nathan almost said something back about that, but he bit his tongue.

because it isn't just the fact that you’re cale's sister—though that alone would make things complicated. it's that, in his mind, you and him exist on completely different wave lengths. you're soft where he's sharp. impulsive where he's careful. open in ways nathan's never quite learned how to be. and the thought of trying—of actually letting himself have you, let himself feel what it would like to call you his beyond the walls of his mind—sort of scares him.

because if it falls apart, if the differences between you nathan is so sure will break you actually do, then he doesn't just loose the possibility of you, but he looses you entirely.

and nathan knows, deep down, that once he crosses that line and even has a piece of you, going back to pretending you're nothing to him won't just be hard—it'll be messy and impossible.

so once again, once he just can't. or rather, he's trying really hard not to.

—

nathan's barely out of the locker room post game, still half in that post win haze—adrenaline not fully settled, teammates talking over each other in the background—when he hears your voice mixed in with some of the WAGs and lingering teammates.

you're leaning on a wall next to melissa, baby luke cuddled in your arms like he's yours. you're rambling about something that based on the twinkle in your eye, clearly feels urgent to you and absolutely not to anyone else.

he laughs through his nose at that, a breathy little sound only for his own ears. and the closer he gets, the easier your words are to make out.

"...and it's literally just been on my floor for, like, a week," you huff, exasperated. "because I thought I could build it myself, which—clearly—was a mistake."

nathan glances over, just as tracy snorts. "how hard can a bookshelf be to build?"

the sound of you pressing a loud kiss on the baby’s cheek sounds before you answer your sister-in-law. "you tell me, trac. seriously, damn you ikea and your minimalistic instructions."

truly, nathan meant to just walk past you. swear. sure, if you noticed him and said something, nathan would've obviously said hello. he's trying to be respectful, not an asshole. but that just goes straight down the drain the second your eyes lock.

"nate," you smile, sliding next to him like a magnet. "good game."

he tickles under luke's chin—because how else are you supposed to great a smiley baby?—and then looks back at you. too blinded by your pretty face to form a response that's not stupid, he just mumbles—"you watched?"

then his eyes fall closed because immediately he wants to take it back. obviously you watched the game because here you are, standing in front of him with a family & friends pass hanging from your neck.

but you only laugh and bump your elbow against his arm. "always," you say instead.

nathan is sure you're trying to kill him with that. he watches, a little dazed, as you pull down luke's little jersey, dividing your attention between the baby and your friends who have moved on from the whole book shelf debacle he overheard.

then before he can think better, nathan gently gets your attention, this time by brushing his elbow against your torso. it's subtle, but it works and you peer up at him, pretty.

"I can help," he swallows, then continues, "with your book shelf."

at first, you just blink at him, but as the words register, a big grin splits across your face. "you can?"

he nods. "yes."

you breath a sigh of relief and almost sag into him. "please, yes. a million times yes. there are too many screws and the instructions are like, aggressive but also lacking."

"aggressive?" his smirk is full of amusement, and you mirror it.

"don't judge until you see them."

"alright," he holds up a hand in surrender, "not until I see them."

—

a few days later, nathan mackinnon finds himself standing in your apartment and is instantly overwhelmed. because he's never been in your space before. sure, he's imagined every single corner, but his imagination pales in comparison to the real thing. it's just so...you.

colourful with big open windows, curtains that are nothing but beads. it's cluttered, but not messy. never dirty. and it smells like you, so much so that when you first opened the door for him and the scent wafted out, nathan had to hold himself up on the door frame.

and it didn't help that you looked like a dream. hair pulled back into two twisty braids. wearing a open button down with a paint mark on the cuff, paired with sun coloured dungarees.

even now, sitting on a fuzzy area rug that resembles a cat more than anything else, instruction sheet held in his calloused hands, nathan can't help but to keep stealing quick glances at you.

wood panels are scattered all around like they've been there since you unpacked them. knowing you, they truly have. nathan hums, flipping a page.

"well?" you ask, sitting crossed legged beside him, gesturing to the instruction.

"these are fine."

"they're not fine," you argue, handing him something that may or may not be the right piece. "they skip steps."

he smiles down at the papers. "they don't skip steps."

you frantically move your finger between two of the steps. you definitely think they don't make sense, but they totally do. "see this?" you look at nathan, exasperated. "they imply steps."

he exhales, but there's no real bite to it. instead he puts them down and reaches for two of the wood panels. "hold this."

and you do. for the most part. your attention drifts every few seconds while you loosely attempt to assist nathan in the bookshelf endeavours, bouncing between him, your phone and the pile of things that still haven't been put away—books, yes, but also a concerning number of stuffed animals that have somehow migrated into the construction zone.

it takes less than an hour to build, which is kind of disappointing because nathan doesn't want to leave you in your element so soon. so he lingers purposefully. not that he needs to make an excuse though, because you're grabbing at his wrist like a kid and asking him to help you put everything on the new shelves.

obviously, he tried to play it nonchalant and like, pretended he didn't want to stick around. "I just built it." nathan had reminded you, secretly hoping you'd keep pushing.

"and now you help style it," you replied, like it was obvious and thank jesus.

it started somewhat normal considering he is always one second away from loosing it around you. books get stacked together and sorted by author and series. apparently it's a system, at least that what you told him when you stepped back for the 10th time to admire the aesthetic.

it makes absolutely no sense to nathan, but he doesn't complain. just offers appropriate hums and nods when you ask him if the boys of tommen series looks good next to the chestnut springs series. whatever that means.

it's not until you start asking him where the stuffed coffee cup should go that he raises a brow. "you've got more stuffies than books." it's not true, but he can't resist teasing you in his own, awkward way.

and it works—you gasp, offended but also not at all. "that's just a lie! and they add decorum anyways."

"right," he mutters, clearly unconvinced, picking up a small figure from the pile. he turns it over in his hand, frowning. "are these...naked babies?"

you immediately grab it back. "they're called sonny angels, you wouldn't get it."

"that's doesn't answer anything."

"they're cute." you pout, holding a baby dressed like a strawberry up to your cheek.

nathan has to swallow back his initial reaction. because you look so fucking cute, all pouty and big eyed like the baby figurine you're holding. instead of leaning down and kissing the pout off your mouth though, he just plucks the figurine out of your hand.

"they're weird." he muses, turning it and flipping it over. his frown deepens when he sees it's actually fucking naked.

"they're collectible," you correct, snatching it right back and then placing it carefully on the shelf in front of some brightly coloured books.

for a moment, it's like his body forgets that you're you—the biggest infatuation of his mind, and the blood pumping through his veins. the reason he considers forgetting his entire moral system.

nathan smiles behind your back. before he gets too distracted looking at your pink painted toenails or the exposed nape of your neck, he reaches for another book apart of one of the many stacks sitting on the rug.

you watch him over your shoulder as he flips it, scanning the back. "what are these about?"

"romance."

he glances up. "all of them?"

you shrug and take it from it. "mostly."

there's a pause—one of those quiet, suspended moments where you can practically see the gears turning in his head. his eyes narrow just slightly, like he's trying to piece something together, and then—"...do they have... sex stuff in them?" he asks, the question coming out slower than expected, cautious in a way that almost feels studied.

you freeze. just for a second. and then the realization hits in a blinding flash. a slow, dangerous grin spreads across your face—bright, delighted, a little bit wicked.

nathan sees it happen in real time, and immediately regrets everything.

"oh my god," you breathe, like you've just uncovered something priceless, waving the book between you like a toy.

"what?" he mutters, defensive already, even though he's not entirely sure why.

"you don't know?"

"I didn't say I don't know."

"but you asked."

"I was asking like—generally," he insists, crossing his giant arms like that somehow solidifies his point.

"yeah," you nod, already turning toward the shelf, fingers skimming over the spines like you're browsing for something specific now. "they do."

nathan watches you, dread settling low in his stomach as he clocks the way you're enjoying this. "don't—"

but the protest comes too late because you've already pulled a different book free, flipping it open with an ease that suggests you've done it a million times. your thumb slides along the pages, scanning quickly, eyes darting—and then you stop, whole face lighting up.

"oh, this is a good one," you say, barely containing your excitement.

"don't read it out loud."

you clear your throat dramatically anyway, because of course you're not going to listen. nathan's stomach already feels tightly coiled, and he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "seriously—"

you start reading, way too happy. "his tongue licks up her dripping folds, lapping up her sweet and sticky arousal," you quote, unaffected as you continue. every word lands clearly, every implication slipping into the space between you, every line getting a little more suggestive, a little more pointed the longer you go.

nathan goes still at first. like if he doesn't react, it won't register to the part of brain that controls his dick. then he stiffens—subtly, but noticeably—because obviously he's getting hard. how can he not when the girl of his dress is reading him porn. her own book with porn!

so he gets busy. very deliberately busy. he reaches for a stack of books beside him, shifts them, straightens them, picks one up just to put it back down again. his movements are controlled, purposeful—but his ears are turning red now.

then quickly the color spreads, creeping down the back of his neck.

and you notice of course, because now you're giggling, making your voice wavers like you're trying not to. you keep going, dragging out a line just a little longer than necessary. "and as he pushes his rock hard length into her tiny entrance, they both let our guttural sounds."

"okay," nathan cuts in finally, sharper than he means it to be.

but you don't stop because that's just not in you're nature. because you're enjoying this.

you push through another sentence, then another, eyes flicking up just in time to catch the exact moment it clicks for him—that you're not stopping.

"you're unbelievable," he mutters, but there's no real bite to it. just tension. something tight and coiled underneath.

you snap the book shut with a soft thud, grinning up at him like you've just won something. you eye his flush. "oh, you loved that."

"I didn't."

"you so did." you move closer, and he swallows. "maybe you've just found your new favourite form of porn."

"I don't..." he stops himself, laughing once. "you're so—"

"you're blushing." you snicker, poking his cheek.

"i'm not."

"you are," you insist, stepping even closer—enough to close some of the space between you. enough that he has to look down slightly to meet your eyes. "it's cute."

and that doesn't something, deep in his stomach. right between his ribs. everywhere. nathan mackinnon feels those two words, and the way you’re gazing up at him, everywhere.

his jaw tightens, shoulders shifting like he's trying to reset himself—like he's trying very hard to stay in control of whatever is happening.

"put the books away," he says instead, voice lower than possible.

you hum, clearly pleased with yourself, turning back to the shelf. your fingers trail along the spines again, slower this time, like you're considering your next move. but you're still smiling.

mostly because you can feel his eyes on you, tracking every step. and he doesn't even care that you're aware. he's not avoiding, or trying to distract himself from your smile or scent. instead, nathan is basking in it all.

he steps towards you without thinking just as you reach for another book with the cartoon cover—how can something so innocent be so filthy, nathan wonders.

you didn't hear him move, but suddenly he's right there, just behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the faint brush of his arm near yours. and your breath catches—just slightly.

slowly, you turn your head, and find he's already looking at you. the air has shifted now, and not just because of the smutty words exchanged between you. it's because of your proximity. proximity that for the first time since you've met, he’s initiated.

your hand is still on the book, but you've forgotten about it entirely now.

his gaze drops—just briefly—to your mouth, and then back up again. it's subtle enough, but also not at all because he's physically unable to hold himself accountable anymore.

obviously you catch it, because how could you not? your heart stutters, just once. "what?" you murmur, soft like the teasing edge has slipped into something else entirely.

he doesn't answer right away. instead, his eyes search your face, like he's trying to decide something. like he's right on the edge of it—the edge of really doing it this time.

you don't move. don't breathe. don't dare break whatever this is.

nathan lifts his hand, a little hesitant, then settles it lightly against the shelf beside your head, caging you in without quite touching you.

your lips part slightly, anticipation curling low in your stomach, your pulse loud in your ears as he inches closer. is this it? is the moment that, unbeknownst to everyone else including nate, you've also been wanting. needing.

but then—he huffs out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh, and shakes his head just slightly as he pulls back. nathan pushes off the shelf, "we should finish up."

you blink, still caught halfway in the moment. your body a step behind your brain. you watch as he turns away, picking up a stack of dark romance books you've never read because they kind of scares you.

you take them from his hands. the knowing look in your gaze shouldn't surprise him, but it does. "you were gonna kiss me," you state, narrowing your eyes at him.

despite the blush that's been adorning his face for the greater part of the evening, nathan pales.

"I wasn't."

"you were."

"I wasn't."

you stare at him for a beat and then grin. and that's when nathan knows he's ultimately screwed. instead of doing what he should—throw those books to the floor, grab your face and kiss you until you're both dizzy—he’s backing down. he's incapable of committing to you. because he can't no matter how badly he wants to.

instead, he scoffs, not looking at you now. he reaches past you to grab the book from your hand and shove it back onto the shelf.

"put. the books. away." nathan reiterates.

you just laugh softly, leaning back just a little. still entirely too close for his hearts sake. "yeah," you murmur. "okay."

you don't let it get awkward. in all honesty, you pretty much allow the space for nathan to forget it even happened. which he can't decide if he hates or not yet. easy conversation flows between you as you finish putting away all your books and trinkets, and soon enough, the red hue leaves his cheeks and everything goes back to how it was.

nathan watching wishfully from a distance and you pretending you don't realize.

—

cale makar

to nathan mackinnon

heard you helped my sister build her bookshelves. and apparently she read to you? whatever that means

cale makar

to nathan mackinnon

bro you're so whipped

PART FOUR: a love like that

by the time 7:30 rolls around, the movie night you planned with your friends seems to be unraveling. on your phone screen, a list of sorry's and babe i'm gunna have to reschedule's sit. ashley can't come cause nylah is running a fever, and when one kid gets sick, so do the others, meaning melissa and gabe are also out. and tracy got her dates mixed up, and she has to be up early for a flight, so there goes that. cale said he'd come, but you waved him off.

now you sit cross legged in the middle of your couch, staring at the wall like it might change everything. you're not mad per say, it's just—you bought all the good snacks and wine and we're gunna order a pizza and just chill.

but now you're alone, lights dimmed just right, throw blankets ready for people who won't be occupying them, and a big glass of wine you've already polished off.

fuck, you even vacuumed. which is crazy.

"i'm so tragic," you groan to yourself as you flop back against the cushions dramatically. the tv glows painterly across from you, sitting on the netflix home page.

you can't help but sigh wistfully and reach for another slug of wine, this time right from the bottle. once again, you're not mad, but you've just been looking forward to it all day and ugh! for the first time ever, you're feeling truly upset you don't have a husband and family like your friends do.

it's just you and your snacks and wine.

you're mid tying your hair back when a knock sounds at the door. and for a moment, you freeze. because who changed there mind? who's kid miraculously got better?

wait.

the sound comes again, softer this time, like whoever's out there knows you're home. and remembering who you invited know, you know there's one person who didn't cancel—one who would never.

you're off the couch in seconds, nearly tripping over one of your carefully placed blankets on the way before you yank the door open—and there he is.

nathan is standing there like he belongs on your doorstop, a soft blush on his cheeks like he's remembering exactly what happened last time he was in your place. you let your eyes briefly wander over his outfit—a dark hoodie and sweats. he looks comfy and ready for a movie. and maybe it's because you thought everything went into the toilet tonight, but the idea that he came prepared makes your heart swell.

you're completely at odds with the way your brain short circuits for a second. "you came," you say after a beat, a little breathless.

and knowing nothing about the evening besides everyone getting together for a movie, he just looks down at you like that's a strange thing to say. "I said I would."

"I know, but—" you wave a hand vaguely, stepping aside to let him in. "everyone else canceled."

"oh." he hums, almost freezing at the revelation that you're about to be alone. together. again. thankfully, he manages to move his cement filled feet and slip off his shoes—without being asked, of course.

and then he's moving like he knows the space, which is a way he does. h nathan walks into the living room, huffing what sounds like a laugh as he looks over your snack filled coffee table.

you follow. "you don't have to stay."

but much to your surprise, he just shrugs, easy, like it's nothing. "It's fine."

something warm and steady settles under your ribs. "okay," you say, breezing past his ridged body to plop back into your favourite spot. middle cushion, duh. you purse your lips and look up at him, "then you're stuck with me."

he glances between you and the cushion next to you warily before settling down beside you. thigh pressing into yours, arm too. it's nice. he's nice. and warm and big and smells like a clean shower.

your grab a blanket to distract yourself from like, grabbing him.

"what are we watching?" he asks.

the grin you give him is involuntary. "it was going to be that new action movie, but know that it's just us...i'm thinking something more, light hearted."

nathan exhales through his nose, already bracing. "what?"

"10 things I hate about you, obviously. you said you've never seen it," you tell him, pointing at him with the remote like you've just caught him in something incriminating. "it's perfect."

"perfect for who?"

"for me," you reply shamelessly.

he snickers under his breath, but there's no real bite. only adoration.

the movie starts, filling the room with familiar dialogue and the soft glow of shifting scenes. instantly, you're locked in—quoting under your breath, reacting before things happen, occasionally glancing over to gauge his response like it's a test.

at first, nathan doesn't give anything away. arms crossed loosely, posture relaxed but not fully sunk into the couch. eyes on the screen in that deliberate, observant way—like he's studying it instead of watching it.

"you're analyzing it," you accuse quietly about 30 minutes in.

he looks over at you, momentarily dazed at how you look under the glow from the tv. "i'm watching it."

you only laugh, nudge him once and then return to your attention back to the screen. but nathan? he lets his gaze linger on your profile for a moment longer than he should.

it's not soon after you pause the movie because you're hungry. nathan's immediate reaction is to make a comment about the food on the table, in which you respond with a almost slurred need for pizza. he orders it on his phone because you get distracted explaining a scene that hasn't even happened yet.

the door bell rings soon after because he paid extra for express delivery. he also gets up before you can even blink, which is just hot for no reason.

when he walks back into your living space, holding a pizza box in just one hand, the smell of warmth and grease and saucy immediately invades your senses.

"ohmygod," you exclaim so quick it all blends together into one word, "smells like sex."

he shoots you an amused look as he puts down the box next to the wine bottle and the untouched popcorn, but you don't notice because you're too busy flipping open the cardboard lid and sniffing like a mad woman.

"dinner," he says before sitting back down.

you grab a slice and it hits your wrist, which only makes your mouth water. nathan raises a brow as your eyes meet, but instead of answering with words you just take a messy bite—grease and sauce smearing on your cheek.

"you having some?" you ask him through a mouthful.

he shrugs, "I don't eat that stuff during the season."

"boooooo!" you chant until he laughs. but you're not done being a slim, because you dance the slice in his direction, as if trying to tempt him. it doesn't. "don't think about it," you tell him, mouth still unattractively full. "just experience joy."

he pushes your hand away. "I experience joy."

"you observe joy from a distance," you correct, eyebrow quirked knowingly. "do it for my shit movie night."

nathan sighs, a little reserved, but when your pleading eyes don't waver, he's already got his mind made up. there's a long second where he just looks at you, but then—like he's making a conscious decision to ruin his own reputation—he reaches forward and grabs a slice.

a slow grin covers your face as you chew, and before you can think otherwise, you grab your phone and start recording. because this is like, unheard of.

"oh my god, is nathan mackinnon about to eat something with grease?" you whisper dramatically, camera pointed at him.

he pauses, looking between your eyes and the lens. "put your phone down." he says, but he's already grinning.

"no, I have to record this for the future. this is gold."

"oh my god."

you grin, unwavering, holding your ground.

nathan takes a bite then, because it'll make you happy. he chews thoughtfully, enjoying the flavour, because let's be honest, it's been so long since he's eaten something this unhealthy.

and you gasp. naturally.

he keeps chews, expression carefully blank, but you can see it—the flicker, and the split second shift when he realizes grease can be good.

"say something," you urge quietly.

"i'm not saying anything."

"you love it."

"I didn't say that."

"you love it." you beam, "admit it. grease is fucking delicious. maybe not for the gut, but for the soul."

nathan exhales something that sounds suspiciously like a laugh as he drags a hand down his face. "you're so stupid." but he says it with so much softness that you want to kiss him.

you eat almost half the pizza, and nathan only manages to polish off one slice. but you'll take it. the movie keeps playing, beating the climax of the plot.

you've shifted closer to him without realizing it—if that was even possible. the blanket you'd been using has somehow started to spill onto his lap, and your shoulder is practically in his armpit. your legs are tucked under you now, angled slightly toward him, like your body's made the decision before your brain has.

and nathan doesn't move because of he wouldn't dream of it.

the sven plays out, and instinctively you turn to look at nathan, wanting to catch his reaction. but when you do, you find him already looking at you.

the moment stretches like molasses. the movie plays on, familiar lines and voices filling the room, but it all fades—background noise to something quieter and fragile. because neither of you look away.

"watch the movie," he says quietly.

"you're not watching it."

"I am."

"you're not." you challenge, voice barley above a whisper.

the only answer he can manage is to look back at the movie, but it says enough.

when the movie ends and the familiar credits roll, it's probably late enough for it to be concerning. you're both completely sunk into the couch, and you've toed the pizz box away so nathan has somewhere to rest his sock covered feet.

"...I want that," you murmur suddenly—wishfully—almost to yourself.

nathan's attention shifts immediately. he lazily looks over at you. "want what?"

you don't meet his gaze right away. for a beat, your attention stays on the screen, following the moment as it unfolds. "love," you clarify, quieter now. "I want a love like that."

you're not sure why you tell him that. but it's the kind of honesty that slips out when you're comfortable. when your guard is down. when you're not thinking about how it sounds. and maybe it's lingering longing from earlier about feeling alone, or maybe it's something else entirely.

it's all the same when you watch nathan go still. it's subtle enough, but you're still pressed together, so even if it was just a hitched breath, you would've felt it.

he holds your gaze. his hand, resting near yours on the couch over the throw, flexes once—like he's about to reach for you but can't quite get there.

"you will."

your voice goes soft. "you think so?"

nathan swallows down the lump in his throat. he could say it then. tell you, right here. right now. tell you that he knows you'll get a love like that, because he already feels that way for you, and whether you know it or not, you have it.

and just for a second, the admission is on the tip of his tongue.

and you can see it. clear as anything. it's in the way his expression changes, and in the way something deeper pushes past the usual control he keeps locked in place.

his gaze drops briefly to your mouth, then back to your eyes, like he's weighing something, like he's standing right on the edge of it.

"I—" but he stops, words hanging in the space between you like a vice.

your heart stutters with disappointment.

nathan exhales as every fear and doubt about telling you how he feels climbs up his throat. no matter how badly he wants to say it, he can't risk it. can't risk the possibility of loosing you.

the moment folds back in on itself, the walls snapping back into place like they were never down to begin with.

"you will," nathan says instead, quieter this time, like he's settling on something safer. "you deserve that."

not knowing what to say without telling him exactly how you feel about another failed kiss, you just study for a moment. and as you do, underneath the shadows cast from the tv and the hard exterior he blankets his face with, you can see there something there. making him hold back.

"okay," you say finally, just as soft.

he doesn't stay much longer after that. muttering I should go while the credits nears the end—because you'd been too dazed to stop them from rolling—already standing from the couch and leaving you feeling cold. and you had just nodded, and instead of asking him a million questions like you want to, you walk him to the door.

there's a moment there—of course there is—where you both linger a second too long. nathan's hand brushes yours as he reaches for his shoes. your breath catches for no good reason. and he looks at you like he's about to say something again. but you already know he won't.

"thanks for coming," you mumbled, leaning against the wall.

he pauses, and then—"goodnight y/n."

the second the door closes behind him, it all hits you. from the moment you met all those summers ago with the season looming around you, to all the barbecues and birthdays and every quiet moment in between.

you stand there for a moment, staring at nothing, back against the door now—the quiet of your apartment pressing in loud.

what the hell was that?

you replay it instantly—the couch, the way nathan looked at you, the almost. the very obvious, very real almost. the way he started to say something and then didn't. the way his eyes dropped to your mouth like—god.

why didn't he kiss you?

It wasn't just in your head, you think you know that much. because It couldn't have been. because if you felt it—he felt it. that kind of moment doesn't just happen for no reason. people don't look at each other like that and then just...leave like it's another day accomplished.

unless you've read everything wrong. because maybe this entire time you thought you've discovered who the enigma that is nathan mackinnon, and what makes him tick. but maybe—just maybe—you've been mistaking every snear for a smile. every awkward laugh as a pleased one.

your stomach twists at the idea that you've been sitting here for years building something up that was never actually there in the first place.

"no," you mutter, grabbing your phone, pacing once across your living room before turning sharply back. "no, i'm not doing this."

it won't be another night of wondering. not another week of overanalyzing every look, every word, every almost until you drive yourself crazy. if you've been wrong, you need to know now.

if he's going to confuse you—whether it was accidental or on purpose or you're just going crazy—he can deal with the consequences.

"okay," you say to yourself, already pulling on your shoes, barely even thinking about it. "fine. great. perfect."

and then you do something any slightly insane girl would do—call and uber and give him nathan's address.

—

by the time you're standing outside his place, your heart is beating so hard it feels ridiculous. because this is insane. you know that. but you also know you're not one to brush this kind of shit under the rug, if there's something that needs to be said, you're ready to hear it. no more pussy footing around.

you knock before you can overthink it. and then you're immediately holding your breath, panicking while your hand is frozen in place mid air.

then the door opens.

nathan blinks in surprise, obviously not expecting to see you all things considered, hair slightly messier than before, hoodie swapped for a t shirt now. he looks soft, but also more off-guard than you've maybe ever seen him.

"y/n? are you okay? what are you doing here?"

his eyes roam over you, looking for injuries or an answer you haven't given him. he steps out into the porch, eliminating a foot of space between you.

you don't give yourself time to hesitate, words coming out firmer than you intended. "do you hate me or something?"

his brows pull together immediately. "what?"

"I mean," you huff a laugh, hands slapping the sides of your thighs as you drop them, "I thought you liked me. I thought that I made you nervous or something—but it's been years and i'm starting to think I got the wrong impression."

he just stares at you for a second, like his brain is trying to catch up to the fact that you're here. now. saying this. because how could you ever think that? sure, nathan thinks, he has never been forthcoming with your about his feelings, but he's sure he's never given the impression that he hates you. right?

"do you...want to come inside?"

you blink. "do you want me to come inside?"

a beat. he swallows, fingers twitching like he's trying not to touch you. "yes. I do."

your chest tightens, even though you're trying to remain neutral. you tilt your chin up, "then yes."

nathan steps back without another word, gesturing for you to go ahead.

you walk past him, heart in your throat, door clicking shut behind you with a finality that makes everything feel suddenly, terrifyingly real.

there's a moment of silence. mostly because you don't have a plan and you're already regretting it.

"I don't hate you, y/n."

you turn to face him, arms crossed like a shield. "no?"

he shakes his head, stepping a little closer, voice quieter now. "never."

the word lands between you, steady and certain, and it does nothing to calm the way your chest is rising and falling like you've just run all the way here instead of taking an uber.

"okay," you breathe, but it comes out thinner than you mean it to. "then you can't just—" you gesture vaguely between the two of you, frustration bleeding through now that you're here, now that you've started, "—do that and then leave."

his brow furrows. "do what?"

"you know what," you insist, stepping closer without really deciding to. "the couch. the looking at me like you were about to—" you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. "you almost said something."

and based off the look in your gaze, nathan knows you don't just mean tonight. his jaw tightens slightly. "I didn't."

"you did. you do," you push. "and then you just...shut it down. like always."

"that's not—"

"It is," you interrupt, softer now but more certain. "you get right up to the edge of something real and then you just—pull back. like it doesn't even matter."

"It does matter," he says immediately, stepping closer.

"then why have you never kissed me?"

at that, the room goes silent. your breath catches, eyes never leaving his. there's no taking it back. not that you would, but the idea is almost suffocating. alan or as much as the way he's looking at you.

his eyes bore into yours—like the question physically hit him. like he wasn't expecting you to say it out loud even though it's been sitting there for god knows how long now, obvious and unavoidable.

your heart is pounding, loud enough you're sure he can hear it. "well?" you press.

he exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair, pacing once like he needs the movement just to think. "it's not that simple."

"then explain it to me," you fire back. "because for me, it is."

the quick pace he'd been doing comes to a stop as his eyes meet yours again. there's something less guarded about his gaze now, but it comes with a rise of concern. "you want me to be honest?" he asks.

your stomach flips and then flips again—because like usual, you're not sure what to expect from him. "yeah," you swallow, nervous, and continue, "I came all the way here, didn't I?"

a beat passes between you, and then he takes a step closer. "I didn't kiss you," nathan says, voice low, and rough around the edges, "because if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop." the air leaves your lungs as he continues, "and I don't trust myself to do that halfway. I can do that with you."

"why not?" your pulse stutters, heat rushing up your neck.

"because it won't be just a kiss for me," he admits. and as he continues, a weight begins to ease off his rigid shoulders. "It wouldn't be something I could just walk away from after. It wouldn't be something I could pretend didn't change everything. because for me it would be more."

you swallow. "and that's a bad thing?"

"yes," nathan says—too quickly and it makes you flinch. at that, his expression shifts immediately—because he doesn't mean it that way. he could never.

"no," he corrects, softer. "not bad. just—" he exhales, frustrated now, searching for words he clearly doesn't like having to say out loud. "complicated."

"complicated how?" you almost whine, defeat weighing on you now. and it hits nathan right in the gut—because how can he make you understand when he barley knows himself.

"you're—" nathan stops himself after a pause, then shakes his head once like he's trying to recalibrate. "you matter too much."

"that doesn't make any sense."

he moves towards you, stopping so close that you're almost pressed together. "It does to me." he admits, voice so quiet it's almost impossible to register.

"then help me understand," you say, meeting his gaze as you take that final sliver of space and crush it. chest to chest. "because right now it just sounds like you're scared of something that hasn't even happened."

"I'm not scared," he snaps, automatic, that media trained side of the best atheist in the world coming to the surface. it makes your raise almost a playful yet knowing brow. nathan huffs, quieter this time. "okay. maybe I am."

you soften, just a little. "of me?"

his gaze drops to your mouth again—quicker this time, like he doesn't mean to, like it's instinct. maybe it is. "of what happens if I let myself have you."

that does it. you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of your mouth. because hearing that has everything in your chest just—clicking into place.

"nate," you start, placing your palm on his stomach. "the only things what happen is that i'd let you."

nathan blinks at you like he's fighting something—like every instinct he has is telling him to hold the line, to keep things where they are, safe and controlled and unchanged. but he's losing. you can see it.

"y/n—"

"tell me you don't want to kiss me," you interrupt him gently.

there's a choking, thick beat before he closes the small distance left between you, one hand coming up—hesitant for only a fraction of a second before it settles at your jaw, thumb brushing lightly along your cheek like he's testing something fragile.

"I can't tell you that because it wouldn't be true."

your nose brushes his, a smile beginning to take its way over your face. "so maybe you should stop lying to yourself...and just let this happen."

"yeah," he says, voice dipping lower as he finally closes that distance and kisses you. it's not tentative, or unsure. it's everything he's been holding back all this time. yet it's controlled, but only barely, like he's still trying to keep a grip on it even as it slips.

nathan's hand tightens just slightly against your jaw, tilting your head as he pulls you closer—he's been thinking about this for a long time, and he's finally giving himself permission.

your hands bunches in his shirt without thinking, gripping, grounding, and pulling him in like you're afraid he might disappear if you don't.

but he doesn't, because of course he doesn't.

if anything, he deepens it—just a fraction. just enough to make your head spin. just enough to prove his point of you being more to him than just this.

when nathan pulls back, it's only far enough to properly peer down at you. breathing uneven, and forehead almost brushing yours.

"that's why," he says quietly.

and you don't have to ask him to explain.

PART FIVE: the kat stratford ending

1 year later

you're wedged into the corner of cale's sectional that's definitely too small for the number of bodies currently occupying it, one of nathan's hoodies swallowing your hands, socked feet tucked under his thigh like it's second nature.

because now, it is.

the tv is on, but no one's really watching it. someone—probably mikko—has the remote, flipping channels with zero commitment while a half finished debate about something stupid unfolds in the background.

nathan's barley paying attention, to be honest. he's beside you, an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers idly tracing patterns against your shoulder like he doesn't even realize he's doing it. every so often, his thumb will hook into the fabric of your sleeve, tugging you just a little closer without looking.

this close, he can smell that citrusy sweetness that used to haunt him. now, he craves it more than anything. nose brushing against your head as if trying to find the source.

a year ago, this would've short circuited his brain. you lean deeper into him, humming contently as you drop your head back to look at him.

"you're not even listening," you murmur, smiling.

"I am," he says automatically, but there's a familiar twinkle in his eyes that tells you he's totally lying.

"you're not."

"I know exactly what's happening," he insists.

"okay," you hum, amused. "then what are they arguing about?"

that has him pausing before taking a very educated guess. "hockey?" you just stare at him, brow quirked, and nathan shrugs, pressing his lips to your temple. not a kiss, just an absentminded brush. tender.

"that's usually a safe option." nathan says.

you huff a laugh and nudge him with your shoulder. his hand slides down your arm in response, settling warm and steady at your elbow.

across the room, your brother is watching. which is never a good sign because he likes to annoy you at the best of time. he leans back in his chair, eyes moving between the two of you with the kind of slow, knowing look that immediately makes you suspicious.

"what?" you ask in a way only a sibling could, narrowing your eyes.

he shrugs, way too casual. "nothing."

"that's not a nothing face."

he almost scoffs, "it's absolutely a nothing face."

"It's not," you say flatly. "you're about to say something annoying."

"I'm just saying," he starts, already grinning and you groan out a here we go. cale continues, "this is exactly how I pictured it."

nathan's hand stills slightly against your arm as he listens in.

you blink. "what is?"

"this," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "you. him. the whole—" he waves again, like the concept is too obvious to need words. "being in love thing."

in the past year, your relationship with nathan grew into something he used to have doubts about. being with each other has been easy and undeniable. he's still steady and guarded, while you're definitely still too bubbly to digest. but instead of how he feared that would pull you apart, it's made you both blossom.

whatever the odds felt like at the start, the two of you were always going to make sense. thinking about it now, nathan almost feels stupid for thinking your lack in similarities would be your demise.

mikko, from the other end of the couch, snorts. "took you guys long enough anyways."

now it's nathan turning to look. "excuse me?"

"I'm just being honest," the finland native muses, holding his hands up like he's not about to stir the pot anyway. "we all knew."

"you did not all know," nathan argues immediately.

gabe raises a brow from where he's sprawled out on the rug, luke between his thighs playing with a toy. "we absolutely did."

"no, you didn't," you say now, looking between all of them—which now includes mel, tracy and susanna who are nodding along knowingly. traitors. you practically squawk, "because if you did, someone could've maybe said something instead of letting me think I was insane for—" you cut yourself off, gesturing vaguely. "—for years."

"you were just as bad as each other," your sister in law speaks up, sending you a sheepish smile when you send her a baffled look. "we were just letting you two figure it out."

gabe hums, "don't lie tracy," the blonde directs his attention towards you then, "if it's any consolation, y/n, nathan was like immensely worse."

your boyfriend sits up. "hey, I wasn't that bad."

"you used to run away when she walked into a room."

melissa snorts, "one time you texted me trying to figure out what perfume she wears."

"you held her hair back when she puked."

"you built her a bookshelf dude."

"alright," nathan grumbles, cutting of his friends attack. but there's no bite there.

across the room, someone says something else because they can't help themselves from bugging you. mikko argues, cale throws a cushion at him, and the tv keeps playing something no one's watching—

But here, in this small space carved out between all of it nathan leans down just enough to press another quick kiss to your temple.

absentminded and certain. like it was always going to end up this way.

[writingisbetterthandying]

another win for the nate girlies...i've already reread this like 3 times...the brother dynamics will never not get me...

[writingisbetterthandying]

420 followers on 4/20 thank you for following even if most of you are here for something I’ve moved on from 😛

[writingisbetterthandying]

rabbot love triangle...except...

pitt!reader w/unspecified age and job...idc this is not about medical accuracy also this was fully shower thoughts i had to write down and got out in like an hr. will not edit or elaborate beyond this...probably. i hope you see the vision!!

wc: 1.6k - no warnings!

being on the day shift means always in robby's periphery; he insists on calling you kid to relieve some of his old man guilt

handoffs soon becomes your favorite time of day. abbot takes a liking to your steady cheerfulness and his ability to always make you smile. robby hates jack in those moments

the biggest quietest betting pool in ptmc history is team jack or robby. dennis felt genuine guilt betting against robby, whereas langdon joyfully put $30 on jack. all in all, it's a pretty even split—except shen, who insists you wouldn't go out with anyone at work.

robby starts bringing you a pastry every morning. you're too particular about coffee and that feels too personal—too intimate for him, so he settles on something to help butter you up. any reciprocal anything you give though causes him to spiral. he's rushing to the bathroom for any semblance of quiet to process before he badgers himself on his role and the impropriety.

robby stops with the pastries. soon notices how close you get to abbot. with robby, the pull is structured, somewhat practical. with abbot, it feels inevitable. his quips, the glances, the brushes of the shoulder, the insistence on seeing what the night howlers have to offer—he's smooth with it

abbot, who comes into the pitt in full swat gear, just winking at you as he passes by with the gurney of a colleague with a broken arm. he catches you in between cases, muttering something about knowing how you could appreciate a man in uniform.

robby was silently brooding, taking in your looks towards abbot, the whispered something that made you visibly flustered. impropriety be damned. he breaks it up quickly, ramps up from pastries to the occasional sandwich, eventually asking you to a penguins game.

you decline, because you have dinner plans with jack! jack who cooks for you and is lovely and wines and dines without much thought.

you and abbot start lingering during hand offs, longer stares now and a familiarity robby can't remember experiencing for himself. robby backs off and you put in a request for nights. it's a doozy when he first rejects it—citing understaffing and random bureaucracy, anything to build a case beyond the internal chants of "don't leave me" running through his brain.

there's a fight with that. he's too confrontational, too sharp in his words, belittling and reducing you to tears until he realizes his projections. the next week is cordial, terse work, with princess doing her best to patch it up for the sake of her stake in the pot.

after a week, robby does approve it. he almost throws up the next day when he sees you run into an awaiting abbot's arms before handoff describing how you'll finally be on the same shift. same schedule. same meals and going home together and robby all alone. at least that's what he's assuming as he stays frozen in the door of the ambulance bay.

you and jack start dating not long after. you keep it quiet, even without knowing about the pot. it's good, until it's not. jack hadn't seen anyone since he lost his wife; while he could be tender and sensitive at times, others he was stoic. no longer sarcastic but caustic, sharp with his words

it ends after a few months. not having moved in together or anything, it hurt, but it wasn't anything sustainable. robby pretends not to be giddy when he sees you arrive 20 minutes apart one day, instead of nearly hand in hand.

considering himself back in the running, he relinquishes his guilt and jumps at the opportunity that jack was so wrong to mess it up. he lays it on thick with offers of lunch delivery or putting you back on day shift, anything he can do to win over your attention.

jack sees this of course, and their professional relationship is strained. they're terse. they're no longer "brother" but "abbot" and "robinavitch." after a particularly spectacular attempt jack coughs under his breath a short "robina-bitch" which nearly baits robby into hitting the desk under his palm.

soon it devolves. after weeks, it's no longer about getting your attention, it's retaliation amongst one another. it's a game of tug of war, and no one's the foreseeable winner. after they inevitably snap at one another, you yell back.

not only on their unprofessionalism, but calling them out individually. jack had his chance, and blew it. robby, with the "kid" and the favors and the ridiculousness but lack of intent to follow through felt dismissive; hearing that he had at one point, genuinely been in the running, he deflated, knowing that if he truly had acted on it, he would have also fallen short.

after that, they resign themselves to observing. you take a fellowship in emergency peds, so no longer exactly working with either of them, but still remaining in their orbit.

they make a pact on their ridiculousness and apologize among themselves and to you individually. a few months pass, and things are normal. they've fully restored their camaraderie.

that is until during handoffs they see you gushing over the main desk to princess and perlah. it's pretty clear it's about a guy. maybe breakfast plans? both their shoulders tighten up as they try to lean closer to eavesdrop without showing it or anything.

perlah catches the two of them gawking and clears her throat before you trail off, giving robby and abbot a shy smile and brief wave before hurrying to the lockers—not before bumping into shen and muttering about how weird they were being.

you're wrapping up your fellowship so of course both of them are pestering you once again. trying to gauge if ptmc is where you'll try and stay, encouraging you but their praise going a little further than your peers.

you do eventually decide to stay at ptmc, going into peds. you orbit around the pitt and grateful for familiar faces, but more grateful from the reprieve of being caught in the middle of your ex admirers.

one day though you get called down to the ed for a case of a potential leg break and minor sprain for an 8 year old boy. in your rush you missed the whispers across the pitt of the guardian of said patient.

after knocking on the door for room 17, you smile at the young boy, with some assurances, before turning to the bedside and asking who we had here today. you stammered over your words because the man, who said he was the godfather, was unbelievably handsome.

and nervous.

sidney crosby's arrival into the ed was remarkably normal and somewhat unnoticed, except for frank. and robby. and mostly everyone except for santos and dennis, who had the least investment in anything tied to an arena.

he was remarkably patient in listening to after-visit instructions, and after realizing his god son's immediate safety, became much less flustered, and a lot more confident.

after all the assessments and treatments were complete, he asked for dinner and your phone number. mostly endeared by his sideways smirk—all boyish, not cocky in the way most patients/family members had previously asked you out—you agreed.

the first date was a classic italian spot with big leather booths, a shared bottle of wine, and a parting kiss on the cheek from you to sid. working in peds you were no longer really working nights, and eventually he invited you to a game.

not yet official but now exclusive, he understood your hesitance on the friends and family box, instead getting you 2 tickets in the stands by the glass. (definitely no less pressure, but cool regardless).

you decide to bring langdon, because inviting robby after that ditched game many moons ago felt like a pity invite. and it would be awkward.

it got awkward anyways after langdon got tipped a puck during warm ups, and you got a wink after sid got his 15th hat trick. obviously it was all frank could talk about the following day.

robby was shocked. granted he had at least a decade and some on crosby, but he realized age was never really the issue.

jack however, was more resigned. even if you weren't out or labeled with sid, there was enough display for people to see, he knew he hadn't given what he wanted to.

both of them bond over what could've been but also the relief and horror that you're not with a loser. opposite, really.

where they were impatient and sharp, sid was softer, gentler. yes on the ice there is a strictness in his dedication to his team, his sport, himself—but with you he's just sid. no savior complex or pressure to perform or be more than just the goofy man with no grasp on medical terminology.

when you eventually get engaged, the party you host in your now shared backyard is tasteful and quiet and gorgeous. robby stays close to dana. and the food. he congratulates you both, meeting sid with a strong handshake and a stare that says more than he probably could've otherwise.

all jack has to say is "i knew you loved a man in uniform, guess it's just a little more colorful than mine."

[visacardteamloverrr]

everybody loves the goalies nm29

summary: yn 'le bastion' yln was an amazing goalie but all good things must come to an end, sometimes sooner than we wish. how's she doing now? we shall see. reader is canadian but it's mentioned once a/n: terribly translated french (unfortunately that language i cannot speak). halfway through i may have forgotten that this should be about nate too. whoopsie daisy. grammar errors probably are here. other than that im pretty proud of it - enjoy <3 a/n: pls don't mind the fucked up dates at the start and that it's not really realistic i couldn't be bothered

yn92

yn92 don't you worry pongo and his yn are doing alright

comments

minimackinnon SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD GUYS

cici29 pongo is so big already, he was just a puppy

victoiremont_ the best day ever mother gave a sign of life

goalie4life i thought that was the 2022 gold medal game day victoiremont_ shush you you will scare her bastion92 tbh i've always thought yn is like the chaotic cousin who still sits at the kids table

6erikjohnson6 Such a poser

yn92 don't you have a spray tanning session to go to ?

laurastacey7 miss that little sweetie

yn92 thxxx i miss you too

yn92

yn92 auntie yn was left in charge for one day (everyone made it)

comments

goalie4life auntie yn sounds so cute

landeskog.92 what is that on my floor in my house in my kitchen

yn92 that's like... one of your kids ?

cici29 if i were gabe i would be very suspicious of everythingg in the house #captainclutchweremember

yn92 innocent till proven guilty pou29 you literally put the evidence all over my car yn92 #false

bastion92 idk who i want to be more

calemakar_ who babysat who

yn92 if i remember correctly (and we both know i do) during one memorable summer evening... calemakar_ look at that my comment is gone !

yn92

yn92 almost died

comments

cici29 thirst trapping on main yn go get'em

minimackinnon screw nate, yn pick me choose me love me

laurastacey7 everybody knows you missed training with us

yn92 yeah i missed third wheeling so so bad

emmamaltais17 jaw on the flooor

yn92 ;)

victoiremont_ wait wait wait she's training ??? pls tell me you're thinking what i'm thinking

victoire_lphf

victoire_lphf les gardes du bastion

comments

yn92 a blast WITH the past <3

addie YN WE MISS YOU

cici29 oh we are so winning it today with her in the building

goalie4life im SCREAMINGG

victoire_lphf

victoire_lphf Pou is us all after seeing Le Bastion masterclass tonight

comments

pwhl_lover THAT WAS CRAZYYY

cici29 YOU DON'T GET IT GUYS - THE YN YLN ON ICE AGAIN

goalie4life i- how am i- omg

pou29 a pleasure to play with her

yn92 guys it's no biggie - emergency goalie was needed so emergency goalie did her best

minimackinnon "no biggie" IS YOU INSANE

joshmanson42 I am scared of her

calemakar_ knew she was faking it

yn92 shhh don't blow my cover

nsuzuki_37 Craaaaazy

4doby4 👌👌👌

_slafkovsky_ LET'S GOOO

yn92 YEPPPPP

mackinnon29 proud

yn92 a smile would be nice mackinnon29 ;)

coloradoavalanche

coloradoavalanche first time was so nice he had to do it twice thrice

comments

landeskog.92 bark bark

cici29 BIG DAY FOR ANNOYING PEOPLE

minimackinnon couples who silence the haters tg stay tg

bastion92 give it a rest she won't even comment

yn92 that's what the dogg does

bastion92 oh minimackinnon yeah "oh" eat shit

yn92

yn92 walk him like a dog

comments

cici29 pause

6erikjohnson6 Just fell to my knees in a tanning salon

minimackinnon no no no

minimackinnon nate is married, yn has a boyf what about my ynnate agenda minimackinon dont do this to me

hayleyscamurra someone's feeling a lil bold today

yn92 what can i say...

victoire_lphf and yn92

victoire_lphf and yn92 Le Bastion peut désormais se reposer. Le Bastion can rest now.

Yn Yln will be deeply missed from the sport, we will miss her skills, her way of handling the puck and her ability to always be unapologetically herself. Yn joined hockey in the 2016/2017 season and represented Canada on the 2018 and 2022 Olympics. We could always count on her at the World Championships with her last appearance in 2024.

Merci for everything Yn, Montréal will always welcome you with open arms.

comments

yn92 we had a deal admin, no crying

victoire_lphf it is your fault

nhl legend

cp0031 Always fun to watch

canadiensmtl Yn you will be missed

kletang_58 little terror

pou29 will never forget the scared kid who did a cartwheel on her first day

nursey16 finally i will be able to sleep in peace

yn92 we'll see...

calemakar_ calling dibs on yn

4doby4 you can't do that

mackinnon29 the coolest ever

yn92 shhh sid will hear you mackinnon29 let him yn92 oh

6erikjohnson6 Welcome in the retired club !

yn92 i am not THAT old

minimackinnon there's a lot to unpack in this comment section

cici29 choose your fighter - i want to be yn on a bike but i'm defo yn "if i can't see you, you can't see me"

yn92

yn92 #retirement #lifeisgood

comments

cici29 she's something else

joshmanson42 tell him to unblock me pls

yn92 he said he now lives a peaceful life

hayleyscamurra what retirement does with people

yn92 someone has to have the legend title, i gladly sacrificed myself for that

mackinnon29 what is the 2nd pic

yn92 you should ask him himself

minimackinnon stop stop stop - it is for sure a nhl player, defo one of the avs as josh and nate do know him

minimackinnon NO WAY ITS CALE HE'S BEEN SUSPICIOUSLY QUIET bastion92 girl pls seek help minimackinnon for all this time i've been shipping the wrong people ?????

mackinnon29

mackinnon29 Wifey

comments

yn92 i will kill you

landeskog.92 finally i can fully chirp you

joshmanson42 he unblocked me just for this

minimackinnon FUCK OFF I LOVE MY LIFE I'VE KNEW IT I LOVE IT I AM NOT CRAZY

bastion92 he said everything BUT my wife being shipped with cale

yn92

yn92 the dogg is very very very much cuffed

comments

calemakar_ am i safe now?

mackinnon29 mhm no yn92 nate we need a godfather mackinnon92 do we yn92 cale i have your back don't worry

cici92 A KID? I-

minimackinnon even i didn't think- yn92 we love you minimackinnon alr i died

laurastacey7 that was the best secret ever

laurastacey7 will we now have our biggest supporter in person with us? yn92 the little jerseys are comming in handy now minimackinnon29 not so little anymore

landeskog.92 my kids demand another playdate

yn92 ask my agent to arrange somethin mackinnon29 please stop refering to me like that

[writingisbetterthandying]

#thedoggiscuffed also last tweet being dated 4/29...poetry in motion

[writingisbetterthandying]

quinn hughes x reader tag was 1.2k followers back in december pre trade and rn it's at like 4.1k...none of my friends get it...but he's having his moment 🙂‍↕️ certainly not complaining

[writingisbetterthandying]

4.3k now...like yes let it grow...but it’s where it should be...

[writingisbetterthandying]

peaked at 4.5k after the gold medal game...back down to 4.4k after current dumpster fire!

at the end of the day, usa men's hockey are rich conservative white men w/no excuse for their ignorance and really inadequate instincts.

everyone's prob had enough so hiding the rest of my rant/thoughts

hate trump, disagree with the current administration, but i do understand on a base level the excitement to go to the white house. my primary issue is w/kash in the locker room. w/the joke of the women's team. the men's invite is posturing for the current administration. this was an afterthought invite and the SOTU is an inappropriate venue for athletes. this is a distraction! maga doesn't care about supporting or protecting women's sports, they're just transphobic. i feel for the women's team being dismissed privately by those willing to support them somewhat publicly.

people are surprised. i'd say i'm just disappointed. jack said everybody's so political but the olympics are inherently political and nationalist. miracle on ice was so significant not just because of a 20 year gap in winning gold, but where us geopolitics were. defeating ussr was symbolic. this team did not accomplish that.

especially disappointing w/the hughes bros. granted i wouldn't be eloquent on national television hungover, but zero accountability is also just poor damage control. we know they live in a bubble (quinn not even entertaining an alternative career + whatever else he dismissed that question with b/c he is so hockey), but that doesn't excuse the fact that all these players are sons. some are husbands, and some are dads. girl dads. deeply upsetting. hope pwhl attendance and viewership skyrockets for the rest of the season.

right now is a complicated time to be representing the us, and mike tirico said it best after the game: sports unite us so well beyond what is ugly and hurtful right now. that message and hope after two weeks and a gritty tournament was smothered by the disappointing locker room videos. i really do hope that most of the roster felt that their win was for the nation, not the administration. on that note though, they're not actively apologizing, because they're not really sorry.

grateful for flava flav doing his thing but also for the boy moms out there having their sons be aware of what happened. fuck the patriarchy!! legitimately no excuse for not acknowledging at least a little bit of a fuck up on their part. the videos from e11even were honestly embarrassing. disappointed they soured their win so quickly and so massively.

needed to get all these thoughts out w/how much i've been spiraling. complicated feelings about everything!! we do not know these people. and that's okay! rpf has its ups and downs but i think recognizing that their name is attached but not their true character but rather a characterization is key. i won't delete what i've written, although it is ironic that the main tension comes from jack being a douche...i don't have a second part drafted yet and honestly may not follow through. don't know yet b/c this really isn't my fan space.

i also think trying to blast or speculate on the hughes bros for past hookups or whatever behaviors is also none of our business, and just further fuels divisiveness and casual misogyny and homophobia. this is why people usually sign nda's also.

the nhl is one of the most conservative leagues period. hockey has one of the highest barriers to entry for a team sport. it is inherently going to attract people with elitist beliefs. what is most hockey players' secondary sport? GOLF!!

while this whole saga of the past few days has been a rude awakening, and i hope the players are further challenged by the women in their lives to recognize and reconcile with the way they acted. they should feel pressed and uncomfortable. usa did not deserve such a sloppy finish to such a historic games.

big hugs and kisses and all the flowers to the following ladies for a beautiful win!!

gwyneth philips, aerin frankel, grace zumwinkle, kelly pannek, lee stecklein, megan keller, hilary knight, alex carpenter, kendall coyne schofield, cayla barnes, abbey murphy, hayley scamurra, ava mcnaughton, hannah bilka, tessa janecke, caroline harvey, taylor heise, laila edwards, rory guilday, joy dunne, britta curl-salemme, haley winn, kirsten simms

[writingisbetterthandying]

4.1k rn….

[writingisbetterthandying]

quinn hughes x reader tag was 1.2k followers back in december pre trade and rn it's at like 4.1k...none of my friends get it...but he's having his moment 🙂‍↕️ certainly not complaining

[writingisbetterthandying]

4.3k now...like yes let it grow...but it’s where it should be...

[writingisbetterthandying]

peaked at 4.5k after the gold medal game...back down to 4.4k after current dumpster fire!

at the end of the day, usa men's hockey are rich conservative white men w/no excuse for their ignorance and really inadequate instincts.

everyone's prob had enough so hiding the rest of my rant/thoughts

hate trump, disagree with the current administration, but i do understand on a base level the excitement to go to the white house. my primary issue is w/kash in the locker room. w/the joke of the women's team. the men's invite is posturing for the current administration. this was an afterthought invite and the SOTU is an inappropriate venue for athletes. this is a distraction! maga doesn't care about supporting or protecting women's sports, they're just transphobic. i feel for the women's team being dismissed privately by those willing to support them somewhat publicly.

people are surprised. i'd say i'm just disappointed. jack said everybody's so political but the olympics are inherently political and nationalist. miracle on ice was so significant not just because of a 20 year gap in winning gold, but where us geopolitics were. defeating ussr was symbolic. this team did not accomplish that.

especially disappointing w/the hughes bros. granted i wouldn't be eloquent on national television hungover, but zero accountability is also just poor damage control. we know they live in a bubble (quinn not even entertaining an alternative career + whatever else he dismissed that question with b/c he is so hockey), but that doesn't excuse the fact that all these players are sons. some are husbands, and some are dads. girl dads. deeply upsetting. hope pwhl attendance and viewership skyrockets for the rest of the season.

right now is a complicated time to be representing the us, and mike tirico said it best after the game: sports unite us so well beyond what is ugly and hurtful right now. that message and hope after two weeks and a gritty tournament was smothered by the disappointing locker room videos. i really do hope that most of the roster felt that their win was for the nation, not the administration. on that note though, they're not actively apologizing, because they're not really sorry.

grateful for flava flav doing his thing but also for the boy moms out there having their sons be aware of what happened. fuck the patriarchy!! legitimately no excuse for not acknowledging at least a little bit of a fuck up on their part. the videos from e11even were honestly embarrassing. disappointed they soured their win so quickly and so massively.

needed to get all these thoughts out w/how much i've been spiraling. complicated feelings about everything!! we do not know these people. and that's okay! rpf has its ups and downs but i think recognizing that their name is attached but not their true character but rather a characterization is key. i won't delete what i've written, although it is ironic that the main tension comes from jack being a douche...i don't have a second part drafted yet and honestly may not follow through. don't know yet b/c this really isn't my fan space.

i also think trying to blast or speculate on the hughes bros for past hookups or whatever behaviors is also none of our business, and just further fuels divisiveness and casual misogyny and homophobia. this is why people usually sign nda's also.

the nhl is one of the most conservative leagues period. hockey has one of the highest barriers to entry for a team sport. it is inherently going to attract people with elitist beliefs. what is most hockey players' secondary sport? GOLF!!

while this whole saga of the past few days has been a rude awakening, and i hope the players are further challenged by the women in their lives to recognize and reconcile with the way they acted. they should feel pressed and uncomfortable. usa did not deserve such a sloppy finish to such a historic games.

big hugs and kisses and all the flowers to the following ladies for a beautiful win!!

gwyneth philips, aerin frankel, grace zumwinkle, kelly pannek, lee stecklein, megan keller, hilary knight, alex carpenter, kendall coyne schofield, cayla barnes, abbey murphy, hayley scamurra, ava mcnaughton, hannah bilka, tessa janecke, caroline harvey, taylor heise, laila edwards, rory guilday, joy dunne, britta curl-salemme, haley winn, kirsten simms

[writingisbetterthandying]

quinn hughes x reader tag was 1.2k followers back in december pre trade and rn it's at like 4.1k...none of my friends get it...but he's having his moment 🙂‍↕️ certainly not complaining

[writingisbetterthandying]

4.3k now...like yes let it grow...but it’s where it should be...

[writingisbetterthandying]

peaked at 4.5k after the gold medal game...back down to 4.4k after current dumpster fire!

at the end of the day, usa men's hockey are rich conservative white men w/no excuse for their ignorance and really inadequate instincts.

everyone's prob had enough so hiding the rest of my rant/thoughts

hate trump, disagree with the current administration, but i do understand on a base level the excitement to go to the white house. my primary issue is w/kash in the locker room. w/the joke of the women's team. the men's invite is posturing for the current administration. this was an afterthought invite and the SOTU is an inappropriate venue for athletes. this is a distraction! maga doesn't care about supporting or protecting women's sports, they're just transphobic. i feel for the women's team being dismissed privately by those willing to support them somewhat publicly.

people are surprised. i'd say i'm just disappointed. jack said everybody's so political but the olympics are inherently political and nationalist. miracle on ice was so significant not just because of a 20 year gap in winning gold, but where us geopolitics were. defeating ussr was symbolic. this team did not accomplish that.

especially disappointing w/the hughes bros. granted i wouldn't be eloquent on national television hungover, but zero accountability is also just poor damage control. we know they live in a bubble (quinn not even entertaining an alternative career + whatever else he dismissed that question with b/c he is so hockey), but that doesn't excuse the fact that all these players are sons. some are husbands, and some are dads. girl dads. deeply upsetting. hope pwhl attendance and viewership skyrockets for the rest of the season.

right now is a complicated time to be representing the us, and mike tirico said it best after the game: sports unite us so well beyond what is ugly and hurtful right now. that message and hope after two weeks and a gritty tournament was smothered by the disappointing locker room videos. i really do hope that most of the roster felt that their win was for the nation, not the administration. on that note though, they're not actively apologizing, because they're not really sorry.

grateful for flava flav doing his thing but also for the boy moms out there having their sons be aware of what happened. fuck the patriarchy!! legitimately no excuse for not acknowledging at least a little bit of a fuck up on their part. the videos from e11even were honestly embarrassing. disappointed they soured their win so quickly and so massively.

needed to get all these thoughts out w/how much i've been spiraling. complicated feelings about everything!! we do not know these people. and that's okay! rpf has its ups and downs but i think recognizing that their name is attached but not their true character but rather a characterization is key. i won't delete what i've written, although it is ironic that the main tension comes from jack being a douche...i don't have a second part drafted yet and honestly may not follow through. don't know yet b/c this really isn't my fan space.

i also think trying to blast or speculate on the hughes bros for past hookups or whatever behaviors is also none of our business, and just further fuels divisiveness and casual misogyny and homophobia. this is why people usually sign nda's also.

the nhl is one of the most conservative leagues period. hockey has one of the highest barriers to entry for a team sport. it is inherently going to attract people with elitist beliefs. what is most hockey players' secondary sport? GOLF!!

while this whole saga of the past few days has been a rude awakening, and i hope the players are further challenged by the women in their lives to recognize and reconcile with the way they acted. they should feel pressed and uncomfortable. usa did not deserve such a sloppy finish to such a historic games.

big hugs and kisses and all the flowers to the following ladies for a beautiful win!!

gwyneth philips, aerin frankel, grace zumwinkle, kelly pannek, lee stecklein, megan keller, hilary knight, alex carpenter, kendall coyne schofield, cayla barnes, abbey murphy, hayley scamurra, ava mcnaughton, hannah bilka, tessa janecke, caroline harvey, taylor heise, laila edwards, rory guilday, joy dunne, britta curl-salemme, haley winn, kirsten simms

[writingisbetterthandying]

quinn hughes x reader tag was 1.2k followers back in december pre trade and rn it's at like 4.1k...none of my friends get it...but he's having his moment 🙂‍↕️ certainly not complaining

[writingisbetterthandying]

4.3k now...like yes let it grow...but it’s where it should be...

[writingisbetterthandying]

my notifs at 43 bc quinny is the moment

[writingisbetterthandying]

first time for everything

matt rempe x hughes!reader, hughes brothers x sister!reader

matt is baby!hughes’s lots of firsts!! not her first kiss (ty zegras) but basically is and wait?! first real fight with her brother(s)??

wc: 3.5k, varied formatting

warnings: sibling fight/banter/jack's an a-hole, cursing...

i finally got the writing bug! (once every 2 years) and decided to do some angst...my fav lowkey...been picking at this one since christmas! no physical descriptors of reader so could be adopted! and i think she’s like 1-2 years younger than luke. gonna link similar fics with hughes!reader soon 😎 also no use of ai for my fics or to my fics! i just love me an em-dash

baby!hughes who played mini sticks with the boys growing up, played in high school, but an acl tear threw a wrench in a future career. she’ll lace up for an outdoor rink but rarely picks up a stick anymore. luke and quinn love chirping jack that she’s still a better forward. even though she’s not playing, she’s still her brothers’ #1 fan and def has a split jersey to support all 3!

baby!hughes who’s always under jack’s arm in pictures old and new. before baby!hughes he felt classically middle child and he loves being big bro. with the age gap he finally feels like he gets to be more like quinn is to luke. obviously all of them love her and have protective big brother tendencies! but quinn is the safe quiet space, luke is her bestie and partner in crime (since they’re closest in age) but jack is all over the place! he’s her fiercest cheerleader and advocate, but these two also bicker the most

baby!hughes who finishes her degree! since she’s first of her siblings to actually graduate it’s a massive celebration—probably as big as luke’s draft party, if not bigger. they’re all in their big brother feels and just so so proud (and a little obnoxious) but jack is the most obvious, even if he swears his sniffles and red eyes are just from the pollen of the massive bouquet he’s holding during her grad

baby!hughes who doesn’t really date! always had a crush on trevor, but after an awkward smooch on the dock one summer lets it fizzle. jack still has no idea. baby!hughes had no idea that he just lost his nerve and was a total boy after. she’s 100% off limit to the boys visiting each summer! especially luke’s friends from u mich

baby!hughes who deals with unwanted male attention (aka shallow fanboys) and assumes that’s all the dating pool is! vents to her brothers about no one being interested in her but it’s never that deep and they’re always protective joking back w/something like “good. shouldn’t be dating until you’re like 45 anyways.” (little did she know each brother had at least one friend with a massive crush on her, but after almost synchronized death glares across the kitchen, or bonfire, or boat...each dropped their confidence on ever following through)

baby!hughes who ends up working in manhattan. probably has a million and one petty fights with jack as he insists on her moving in with him and luke. decides to compromise with a mandatory sibling day once a week and going to all games within a two hour drive. sees jack nd luke a lot but quinn has major fomo even if he doesn’t always say it and is worried they’d rope her into something stupid so any family time is even more sacred than before!! especially with the limited pto she gets from her first big girl job they make strict no phone rules when they can finally meet back up

baby!hughes who met matt organically in line for coffee in the spring—neither knowing their mutual connection initially with a very cute although slightly awkward meeting, but she pieces him together much quicker than he realizes her connection to the league

baby!hughes who is endeared with matt but is just shy and unsure how to pursue anything! matt who’s very aware of the cliche he’s living being interested in his rivals’ baby sister. very cautious and is always checking the pacing of their budding relationship is good given it’s her first, and he’s always talking to his sisters and mom for advice!

baby!hughes who respects and loves her sibling time so they remain oblivious to her budding romace as she facetimes him getting ready or recapping her day in hushed voice notes in her limited moments alone in her week at the lake

baby!hughes who is over the moon when matt officially asks her to be his gf!! she’s so giddy she spills the beans to ellen like immediately. keeps his last name quiet but still shares about how he has sisters she can’t wait to meet, how he shows her around town, and yes he has a stable job! he just happens to travel a lot for work...

baby!hughes who can’t wait to tell her brothers! they’ve been on a string of roadies but she’s been dying to tell them, especially luke (who endured the trevor train not a crazy amount of summers ago) but she’s hoping to find the right moment, and is scared of what they think but hopeful! matt is a gentleman and goofball and more with her, so she’s thinking about him with boyfriend lens! he just happens to play in the league!

baby!hughes who freaks at thanksgiving when she suggests putting on the game and they all cheer when rangers players are checked into the boards, chirping them throughout, then celebrating the king’s win like they themselves had won the cup. ellen who notices her daughter turn into herself as the periods dragged on, pulling herself away from the game to the kitchen. the rest of the beans are quickly spilled

baby!hughes who’s trying to do her best as she sees her brothers each going through it. jack’s whole hand fluke and desire to get back out there, luke dealing with pressures of a sophomore season and living up to his massive new contract, and quinn being traded and uprooted from his second home in van.

baby!hughes who misses her first home game ever midway through the season when her bestie came to her door in tears from getting dumped on her way out to the train. after a few apologetic voicemails and promises to rewatch the game for her notes, a little groveling is had but it smooths over (jack especially loves getting notes from his younger sister, the details she picks up and her own experience helping him ups himself to be better)

baby!hughes who’s been dating matt for a few months. they’re going steady! matt’s lease is almost up but before any considerations of moving in together can happen, she really wants her brothers to know. not that she needs their permission, but having their stamp of approval on her first ever real relationship was important.

baby!hughes who decides to tell her brothers over dinner while quinn’s in town! they all come into the city to see her apartment, and she figures neutral ground of a new steakhouse was the perfect way to butter them up. she had just met matt’s sisters, and with how well it went, she couldn’t wait to have matt meet her brothers.

quinn’s staying with her for his ny minute, which makes the secret keeping harder than she’d thought. she’s jumpy and quiet, almost subdued, which is definitely unusual when she’d typically be talking his ear off about anything and everything. he knows that she’d come to him first, so doesn’t pry, but tries a little harder to appease her. going shopping with her, trying the new matcha place she had sent so many reels about, swapping his current read with her, all just to see her smile.

it works and her quinn time gives her peace of mind to finally tell her brothers about her relationship. since he’s in her apartment though, she’s been unable to practice her spiel, as she had done...over and over...in the shower, in the kitchen, and to matt at least twice a week. matt was a good sport about it though! but he was honestly too nervous about their reaction himself to fully commit to “playing” her brothers as she tried to anticipate what might go down, “matty!! do you even hear yourself? in what world would luke say that!” and he has to balance teasing but also his fear since he’s never met the brothers really off the ice.

baby!hughes who snaps halfway through eating and puts down her fork a little too loudly,

“i have news!” none of them are really that surprised, given the fidgeting and lack of excitement when usually she’d be going off about the reviews she’s read, or telling them what drinks she wants them to order so they can all sample. she loves her brothers but is also crazy intimidated by the mix of apprehensive, suspicious, and a little bit scared look they all carry.

“what’s up bug?” luke asked from beside her, reaching out his hand with his palm up, just in case she needed the support. she quickly grasped his hand but could barely look any of them in the eye, instead squeezing her eyes shut as she took in a deep breath and with an exhale, muttered “i’m maybe kinda seeing someone—well more than seeing it feels serious but it’s not serious until he meets you guys obviously but i really like him and yeah.”

as she trailed off, they each were processing. the silence was a bit painful, so she picked her fork back up and pushed the food around on her plate, unable to meet their eyes. luke has a half frown, sad he didn’t know first (or at all). quinn recognizes the need to support first, even though he’s shocked, the first thing out of his mouth was “so uh, does he make you happy? wait—so who is this guy??” jack is unreadable, jaw ticking.

“he’s really nice, i really want you guys to meet him, i mean i just met his sisters and it went really well and yeah! wanted you guys to know there actually was someone before springing him on you but guys i finally have a boyfriend! 'nd he really likes me for me and we met in line for coffee and it was really cute and he treats me well, and don’t worry mom knows but also hasn’t met him—want you guys to do that first and—”

“bug, breathe.” there’s an exaggerated inhale and exhale together before luke continued, “so...your boyfriend’s gotta name? or does he go to another school, or is he like from canada so we can’t meet him...” he wasn’t crazy ecstatic about not being in the know, but could tell her nervous rambling was ramping up, so went straight to teasing to diffuse the tension.

quinn notices how her shoulders dropped at the teasing, but also how wide her eyes became at the mention of canada. “lukey’s right on the money, huh bug? anything else about this mysterious canadian man of yours?” this was all starting to feel like a bad game of guess who, and even though it’d be hard to narrow it down to a certain ranger, it wouldn’t exactly be impossible.

“does he play?” was the first question jack barely spat out, interrupting his own brooding. she hesitantly tucked her lip before nodding, not quite picking up his tone. realizing at this rate it’d be like pulling teeth she bites the bullet and squeaks out “it’s matt rempe, okay!” before a little more confidently sharing “i’m dating matt. we’re happy.” and then after a pause, she repeated herself more quietly: “he likes me for me.”

quinn just smiled, shaking his head, jack was once again unreadable, but luke gave her hand a gentle squeeze before it was straight back to teasing, “so bug...you have a type!”

“ugh, no luke! that’s not what—”

“oh c’mon bug, you’re tellin’ me you don’t have a type?”

“well he is kinda like my first boyfriend ever, dingus,” she frowned halfway, but knew he wasn’t being too mean about it.

“well you kissed trevor at the lake, what was that? like 4 years ago?!” she hesitated for a split second before letting out a panicked squeal and dropping his hand quickly to slap it over his mouth. if she had been less embarrassed about her biggest secret up until matt being exposed, she would’ve laughed at the contrast between surprise on quinn’s face making his eyebrows shoot up, with jack’s eyebrows furrowing deeper.

she sputtered before getting out “that was one time luke! what happened to not saying anything?!” she let her hand fall before he could lick it or something. he just smirked before grumbling something about her being all aboard the trevor train, while quinn just chuckled fondly in the back of his hand, having had a hunch himself.

after the giggles and fake broken trust settles, quinn asks for the check and they all head out towards the car together, planning on having a sibling movie night in. as quinn opens the car door for her, he quietly shares that “‘m glad you felt safe enough to share with us, bug. tell me when 'nd i’ll gladly meet him with you.” a soft, shy smile graces her face as quinn drives them back to her apartment. she quickly shoots off a text to matt but puts her phone down as soon as she catches jack’s glare from the rear view mirror.

baby ❤️: just finished up w dinner! no one yelled and quinn wants to meet you when the time’s right! full debrief soon

luke’s the one who decides to break the tension as she glances at her phone with matt’s response before putting it away, “c’mon jack attack, why so grumpy? y’not happy for bug?” he sounds generally worried, as quinn makes a sort of huff in agreement. nobody realized the simple prodding would cause such a fuss as they exited the car into the empty parking lot, headed towards her elevator.

“i just—the kid’s reckless, bug! he was suspended! he’s a fuckin’ ranger!” jack practically spits the words out, his hurt disguised by his harshness. baby!hughes hasn’t processed it yet but quinn and luke give each other a look--an unspoken "where is this going," hesitantly concerned but still protective. yes, jack and baby!hughes once had half a summer of silence over a blowout fight after he misplaced her favorite book, but that was preteen pettiness. them bickering over her not wanting to move in with them was just his way of being protective, which was annoying but everyone knew it was from a good place. his tone now though, was something else entirely.

“i know what team he plays for, jack. your rivalry—i get it, but he’s not his team—” the four of you had paused, quinn and jack just barely ahead, having sat in the front, baby!hughes and luke a few feet behind. luke really wished jack would learn to think before he speaks, but he just kept going,

“yeah that’s what he wants you to think—is that why you missed that last home game?? hanging around msg trying to see how the wag suite feels?” he practically sneered the words out, getting nasty.

“what are you talking about? my friend had just been dumped! i thought we were over this! why are you being such a dick right now?” jack’s words stung, but baby!hughes knew what she was getting into, not about to just let it up that easily. she could stand her ground.

“y’think i’m being a dick? i find out my little sister’s slutting it up for the enemy—lying to us all? going around town like some fuckin’ i dunno puck bunny? i’m not allowed to react?”

“woah jack! hey man—gone too far” quinn stepped in, grabbing jack’s shoulder to pull him back; the shock of jack’s words preventing him from stepping in earlier. he wondered briefly how much jack had listened to their sister during dinner, or if he had heard any part of it at all but jack pushes through, shrugging off quinn’s firm hand.

“i’m not done. not only did you apparently whore it up with one of my best friends—at my fucking lake house right under my nose, now you’re sleeping with rempe? i know you’ve been off the ice a bit but are you really that desperate to get back in the game you had to get in as a wag? well i mean c’mon let’s be real. that was always the only way—i mean, even without your acl you would’ve been stuck in my shadow. you’d be nothing without me, baby sis. let’s be real.”

luke, who had been somewhat calmly trying to hold his sister, shielding her, snapped at that. maybe it was the own constant media comparison to quinn, playing the same position—or maybe it was because she was frozen with shock, fear, disbelief and her eyes quickly welling up with large tears—or maybe it was because he had never heard such ugly words from his older brother. bringing up her injury in such a throwaway manner was beyond a dick move, and hearing the way jack was slut shaming his sister was heartbreaking.

“jesus, man! the fuck’s gotten into you?” luke had never seen jack get so nasty. was luke a fan of rempe? no, but he loves his baby sister beyond any rivalry any day. it was a big step to share this, and the whole night felt off now. jack, although pissy to the media and sometimes straight up an ass, was a standup guy! the a on his jersey showed that; the way ellen raised him showed that; the way he usually showed up for all of his siblings showed that.

“i’m just saying what everyone already knows i guess; i mean hell rempe’s probably doing it to piss me off! ranger's know that's the only way for them to get by huh?” luke decides to push past with baby!hughes, knowing nothing would get resolved right now with jack so heated. quinn was almost at a loss for words, unsure of why baby!hughes’s relationship was making jack feel so insecure, so unwanted to lash out this way. luckily, he found his voice:

“jack i don’t know where the hell this is coming from but you’re so out of line right now i don’t even recognize you. you’re tearing into bug and for what? you’ve been in a shit mood all night and yelling at her like that you’re a shit brother right now. why can’t you be happy for her? she’s spent the whole time i’ve been here nervous about finally sharing—and then you bringing up her injury like that? yeah, you’ve had season ending injuries but she put it down for good. and slut shaming her? for what was probably just a peck with trev? mom raised you better than that. did you wake up deciding you didn’t want a sister anymore? it’s like you didn’t even hear anything she said at dinner at all. honestly, you should go back to jersey tonight. don’t want you around bug right now. i mean, jesus jack—i don’t know if i wanna be around you right now. you’re my brother and i love you but i don't think i've ever seen her cry like that and i don’t know how to look at you.”

baby!hughes who is genuinely inconsolable inside her apartment. luke is holding her closely on the couch, trying to keep himself together while trying to murmur words of encouragement.

jack left without much of a fight, having deflated after quinn's talk. quinn closes her apartment door with a sigh, and upon seeing his youngest siblings trying to deal with the turn of the evening.

he thinks his heart cracks a little further as he approaches, realizing baby!hughes is barely breathing, the tears streaming down, her face hot. he looks over to luke's face to see slight panic, anger, and fear.

quinn joins them on the couch, and baby!hughes barely realizes when she's shifted over into her oldest brother's lap. luke gets up to pace the floor, hands quickly finding his hair. quinn holds her head with one hand, the other rubbing her back as he tries to soothe her into slowing her breathing.

"i just don't get it! i mean what the fuck was he on just now? the comparison? that was just straight up cruel--" luke's heated rant was interrupted by a sharp glare from quinn, a silent 'not the time' that was eventually received. after a deep pause, Luke continued, albeit at a much lower volume.

"sorry, bug. it just sucks that it happened, but i'm always on your side. y'know us babies gotta stick together, huh?" quinn couldn't help the snort he let out at that; luke, at his age and his stature referring to himself that way just made him realize how young (and a little stupid) his brother still was.

while things were nowhere near solved, there was more lightness in the room than there had been. baby!hughes's tears had finally slowed a little, relaxing into her older brother. luke joins them eventually, reaching for the remote to turn on something brainless.

baby!hughes who falls asleep not even 15 minutes into the movie. quinn and luke wordlessly trying to figure out what's next. in the morning, she'd be still upset, hurt, and then as it shifts to anger neither of them really wanted to be there for the fallout.

[writingisbetterthandying]

quinn hughes x reader tag was 1.2k followers back in december pre trade and rn it's at like 4.1k...none of my friends get it...but he's having his moment 🙂‍↕️ certainly not complaining