#alex galchenyuk imagine

[princesstillyenna]

What the fuck is gallyfield? Is about gally? The only gally anyone shoud care about? Brendan Gallagher? If it's about him gimme even if it's unfinished.

Same with the sugar baby mitch one tilly. Feeeeed ussss

Gallyfield: The premise is thus. Brendan Gallagher, king brat of the NHL, very bratty. (except for when he used to scene with The One Who Got Away Alex Galchenyuk). Cole Caulfield, a lil baby brat, with now no dom on the team... and he's falling apart. So Brendan lies and says he's a switch, just so Cole will scene with him, just to stop Cole falling apart because he's SELFLESS. Have a snippet: It helps. It almost feels like praise slipping out of Cole’s lips, even if it was praise that Brendan himself told him to give. Brendan hefts the paddle in his hand and brings it down on Cole’s now beautifully pink skin. If he needs to imagine Alex’s voice in the back of his mind telling him what a good job he’s doing as he does it, well, that’s between him and precisely no-one.

[grittyreadsfic]

I love your fics, blog, and recs so much! Thank you! I've been in this fandom forever, so your recs are almost always rereads (and its so fun!) but I noticed that with older fic, sometimes i read about players and get sad about the optimism of their career trajectory that never manifested. Like an imagined cup that never occured or a promising career that ended in a trade, or even the player never really made it. Do you ever feel like that? Anyway, wish you well and than you again!

honestly sometimes rereads are the best (esp if it’s a fic you haven’t read in a minute!!)

yeah i get what you mean. i think a lot of early pk subban fic has that same feeling for me, especially now that he’s retired without a cup. alex galchenyuk is another player when i read fic about that makes me :/ i think of the guys i’m writing about now, and how hopeful i am for their futures, and just think about how it’s already so different than what i’ve written about (ty smith’s trade rip 2 me). there’s something bittersweet about reading something and knowing how it actually worked out

[wyattjohnston]

you and me might end up together (praying that) - alex galchenyuk

series: not shy of a spark

word count: 2,842

warning: this contains smut. if you are under the age of 18, back away now.

summary: A much needed reunion after a lengthy break.

Lola could honestly, hand on heart, say that her only intention when heading to Scotiabank Arena was to watch playoffs hockey. The Leafs were finally not facing Boston in the first round, and she wanted to enjoy it as best she could. Maybe it was inappropriate to be there, maybe even more so to have accepted her friends’ invitation to the family box, but she’d put on a nice blouse, her best jeans and showed up at Daphne’s house with no regrets.

Game 2 was exciting and went far more favourably than Game 1. The women in the box had warned her that being too excited was going to draw attention from the cameras—especially as she was somewhat famous—but Lola barely spent any time in her seat the entire game. Definitely not when Kerfoot scored an empty net goal right at the end of the game. That was the moment she knew the cameras had seen her—the many questions marks from Anna Galchenyuk being all the proof Lola needed. The shrugging emoji she sent back was not well received.

Definitely inappropriate was saying she’d join Daphne on her walk down to the locker room. No malicious intent was meant, honestly, she just wanted to finally see the depths of Scotiabank Arena.

“This is the type of game that deserves an after party.”

“Not in the middle of playoffs,” Daphne said, sounding a little disappointed.

“I’ve never experienced playoffs. The Habs and Yotes couldn’t get it done and this time last year I had nothing to do with hockey. Not that the Wild made it anyway,” Lola said before she realised that nobody had asked and added slowly, “Thanks for bringing me.”

Daphne smiled, amused.

It was far from the first time Lola had waited outside a locker room and she didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest being there. Talking to the players’ partners and families was easy, definitely, and enough of a distraction that she didn’t even notice the players leaving the locker room until Willy Nylander was sweeping Tulle off her feet right in front of Lola.

She introduced herself to the players as they got close enough, Mo really the only one she’d met previously—it was at that point that she started to get antsy about being there. She was right to feel that way, too, if the look on Alex’s face as they made eye contact was any indication.

Lola excused herself from the group to move toward Alex who, in turn, was putting distance between him and everyone else.

“Hey, baby,” Lola greeted softly, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“Why are you here?” he asked abruptly.

Loa looked back over at the group, gesturing, “I’m friends with Daphne. She asked if I wanted to come see a playoff game.”

“Right,” he said tightly.

“You won’t believe me, but I wasn’t going to come down here.” Knowing a heavy sigh was going to leave his mouth, she added, “Baby, I’ll leave if you want me to. Just say the word and it’ll be like I was never here.”

“But you are here.”

Lola nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. She kept her mouth firmly shut, waiting for Alex to say anything at all or give any indication that she really wasn’t wanted. He seemed to be thinking about it very seriously.

The answer was getting closer when Mo and Daphne wandered over to them.

“You’ve already made a move, eh, Alex?” Mo chirped.

Lola wasn’t shy and, despite Alex basically shutting down in front of her, said, “He tried about three years ago. Quite successfully, too.”

“You kept that quiet,” Mo said to both of them, taken aback. Daphne wasn’t at all surprised.

“Didn’t, actually. If you go back far enough, he’s all over my Insta.”

“Lola,” Alex said through gritted teeth.

She shut her mouth and smiled apologetically, deciding it would be best to let Alex relax—the tension in his shoulders was causing her own to hurt—and left them to return to her conversation with Tulle and Will. Both had many questions about why she had been talking to Alex; they were all brushed off.

Daphne joined them again shortly after. With a quick check back at Alex, Lola whispered in her ear, “I’m going to go. I should have left right after the game. It was unfair.”

“He’s fine,” Daphne assured her. “Surprised, definitely, but he really seems okay.”

“This is his space, his team, his friends, and I shouldn’t have intruded. Thank you for inviting me; I would love to watch a game again. The girls are great.”

Daphne asked a few times if Lola was absolutely certain about making her own way home before she finally let her leave with a tight hug. Lola said her goodbyes as she hauled her bag up over her shoulder and left without so much as a glance back at Alex.

As bad as she felt for showing up without any notice, it had been nice to see him and a weight off her shoulders to know that they were done with their relationship; to know that things couldn’t just go back to what they were even if they were finally living in the same city.

More than a few people did a double take as she walked by them. Lola never knew it was because they recognised her, her looks or they didn’t think she belonged, but she made it to the security doors without being stopped.

She stopped herself when she reached them to ask the security guard how to get to the street. The directions were far lengthier that expected and she was very nearly starting to type them into her phone they were so convoluted.

“I’ll get her out,” Alex’s voice came from behind her, startling her. “Thanks, Jim.”

“I was going to get out eventually,” Lola said wryly, dropping her phone into her bag. “Or I could just wait here for Game 5.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?” he asked when they were facing each other.

Lola hesitated—she wanted to say ‘yes’ both so that she could spend time with him but also, so she didn’t have to get on a train with hordes of people. She had barely reconciled that there was no chance of a reunion, though, and didn’t know if it was such a good idea to be spending time with him.

Lola scrutinised Alex’s face, every line, and every twitch she remembered as one of his tells—he was just standing there, though, his hands in his pockets and his expression sincere.

“Take me home, baby,” she said, her feet carrying her to his side.

Walking to the parking lot with Alex was unsettlingly normal, even though they’d never left Scotiabank together. The only way it would have been more normal was if either of them was talking incessantly, unable to keep their hands off each other after however long their jobs had kept them apart.

Lola was still happy with the distant silence compared to the absolutely nothing of the last 14 months. As they walked, she struggled to keep her eyes straight ahead because she wanted to take Alex in. He was doing the same to her, too.

“Anna said she saw you on TV.”

“Yeah, I drew too much attention to the box.”

“They would have just been waiting for you to do something. Always were.”

“Yeah, the girls all hated me for it,” she joked disparagingly. The memories were nothing but fond.

They left the building and entered the parking lot, the breeze a welcome change from the somewhat stale arena air.

“Was that your first game at Scotiabank?” Alex asked as they reached his car.

“Finally got here,” she cheered, her hands in the air triumphantly. “Only took me 26 years and a friends who’s engaged to a player.”

Alex laughed with her while they were getting in the car.

“I could have got tickets for you,” he said when the doors were shut.

Lola cracked the window as soon as the engine started, feeling instantly suffocated by his offer. She wiped her hands on her jeans.

“Really? Because I messaged you when you were just traded, and you ghosted me.”

Alex’s hand was on the gearshift, frozen halfway to first gear, his gaze firmly fixated on out the windscreen.

He’d read the text, too. Immediately. The three dots had even popped up. They then disappeared and no message had ever come.

“I don’t know—I thought it was…”

“Did you think I’d sent it just to be polite?”

“Yeah, Lola. I thought you hated me,” Alex revealed, finally shifting the car into first and pulling out of the parking spot.

Lola forced her hands under her thighs and tried to remember to breathe.

“I don’t hate you, baby,” she whispered. “I’ve never hated you.”

The car would have surely overheated had the window not been cracked—surely, they would have run out of oxygen as well.

“But I broke up with you.”

“It was mutual, Alex,” Lola said, confused.

“It felt like it was my idea.”

It had been, truthfully. He was the one to bring it up, sitting on his hotel room couch in St Paul, together for the first time in a month and a half and finally admitting that it was all too much. The wetness in his voice was what had led to Lola agreeing tearfully that it had been getting harder for her, too.

“Maybe it was, but it was the right one at the time.”

The streets of Toronto and all the city’s traffic were laid out before them. The only sounds were the air outside the car, the music Alex had put on to kill the silence and Lola’s occasional directions to her apartment. It was a short drive to Downtown Toronto, made only slightly longer by the game traffic that hadn’t yet dissipated.

It startled Lola a little when Alex put his indicator on outside her building but didn’t cut the engine. It made sense given their reunion, and yet she had still expected him to find a park like he always had done in the past.

She sighed, opening her door and went to say goodbye and thank him for driving her home. What came out of her mouth, though, was, “Do you want to come up and talk?”

Alex’s response was solemn, low, “I don’t know where I’ll be next season.”

“That’s something we can talk about. I just miss you.”

He nodded, agreeing to find a park and join her. Lola smiled, small but sincere, opened the door and stepped out onto St Patrick’s St. She waited for him in front of the doors, nervous that if she went inside and lost sight of the car that he might just drive away to never come back.

Alex was truthfully one of very few people in the world who made her nervous. Maybe the only person who did so in a butterflies-in-your-stomach, never-want-it-to-end sort of way.

It felt like an age waiting for him on the sidewalk; longer, somehow, than any of the months they had ever spent apart. When he did walk up to her, his smile so genuine that Lola nearly jumped into his arms right then and there. She controlled herself, though, and opted to hoist her bag over her shoulder and hold out her hand. The butterflies swarmed in her stomach when he placed his in hers and followed her to the elevator and up to her apartment.

The first thing to happen when the apartment door closed behind them was to put her bag on the side table, begrudgingly let go of Alex’s hand so she could get her boots off and put them beside his dress shoes and then lead him further into the apartment.

He’d been there before but was still taking in everything as if it were brand new. Some of it had to be. Lola was by no means a seasonal decorator, but it had been such a long time since he’d been to her home.

“I miss you.”

The words startled her—Alex had been the one to say them. Lola cocked her head, taking in the words and how he looked standing in her living room. Comfortably. Like he belonged.

She closed the space between them in three strides.

Alex was ready for her, his hands immediately on her waist to hold her close. Lola’s hands were on his face, his playoff beard wiry yet soft beneath her palms. Their kiss was rough, intense, something that both of them had missed. It wasn’t just kissing that Lola missed—it was how he smelt and how big his hands felt on her waist and the sounds he made as she pressed in to deepen the kiss.

She moved her hands into his hair, pushing it out of his face so she could see him clearly when she pulled back.

“I’ll move. I miss you all the time not even being able to speak to you has been fucking awful—but, baby, I will move to Edmonton if that’s where you end up next season.”

“You thought Montreal was too cold,” Alex said, his mouth curled up at the sides. “You would hate Edmonton.”

“But I love you, so I’d manage.”

“You still love me?” he asked, bowing his head so their foreheads were touching.

“Baby…” Lola said softly. “You’re the love of my life.”

Their mouths connected, she would never know who lead the kiss, but it took no time at all for it to become much more. Alex was untucking her blouse from her jeans, running his fingers up her bare skin until they were resting on her rib cage. Lola gasped as she arched her chest into his hands.

Alex leant down, his breath hot against the exposed skin of her neck. He asked, “Do you want—”

“Fuck me,” she begged.

He didn’t need to be told twice, he never did, before he was walking her backwards to her own bedroom.

Images and ideas flashed through her mind of what they could get up to—there was no shortage of experiences they’d had, nor a shortage of things they’d always talked about trying—and yet, as they stood at the end of her bed, Alex sucking a nice hickey onto her neck, all she wanted was missionary.

She didn’t want him just to fuck her; she wanted him to make love to her. She wanted to see his face as he did.

The hickey would be addressed later when her mind was functioning properly, because, even though it was actually going to impact her next photo shoot, it felt incredible to have him so focused on her.

They were barely in the bedroom when he was pulling her shirt over her head, immediately followed by his own. He was leaner than she remembered, a long, gruelling season cutting into any weight he’d managed to gain in the prior off-season. Her hands moved across every part of his stomach and chest she could touch. His muscles flexed under her fingers.

“Baby, I missed you so much,” Lola breathed. “Alex.”

He moved his mouth away from her neck and down her breasts, kissing along the line of her bra. Lola pulled her hands away from him to reach behind her own back and unclasp her bra. It was off within seconds, thrown to the side carelessly.

“What do you want, Lo?”

“You. I just want you.”

No time was wasted in taking off each other’s pants. Lola frantically worked at Alex’s belt while he faux-grumbled about her four-button fly. Their underwear was removed simultaneously with their pants—there would be other opportunities to take their time.

Alex jumped back into the bed and quickly started removing his socks, unable to stop grinning as he watched Lola walk around the bed and start fishing through her drawers for condoms. As soon as a strip was in her hands, he was pulling her onto the bed by her waist. She laughed loudly as she collapsed onto the mattress.

He hovered over her, his face soft and full of joy.

“Make love to me, Alex?” she asked in a whisper, one hand cupping his face while the other toyed with the chain hanging from his neck.

“Always, Zaika.”

Her eyes fell shut as she melted at the term of endearment.

Neither of them needed much foreplay—they never did, usually just ready and wanting when they were finally in the same room after weeks, sometimes months, apart.

Their kisses were breathy, their touches were hot, and their bodies moved in perfect tandem. With her legs wrapped around his waist and him leaning forward on his forearms beside her head, they were closer than either had ever imagined they’d be again.

“I love you,” Alex whispered. “I don’t think I told you enough.”

“Oh, baby,” Lola sighed. “I know you do. I’ve always known.”

Please consider leaving feedback - reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

[no-pucks-given]

ALEX GALCHENYUK | COMPETITION

Warnings: Pouty Alex, that should be enough of a warning, and probably one swear word.

Word Count: 1.8K

 Your eyes follow the line of trees, the sun shining brightly from above. It’s the peaceful, quiet days like these that you appreciate the most. You look to the left, a smile appearing on your face when you catch Alex already looking at you. His hand finds yours, giving it a slight squeeze. “You see something you like?” you ask him, sending a wink his way.

Alex just laughs at you, shaking his head. “Maybe, maybe,” he says, a sly smile on his lips.

You cock your head to the side, eyebrows raised in question. “Oh, do you need to look a little longer?” you ask, stepping in front of him. 

Alex stops walking, his hand cupping your face. “Maybe I do need to look a little longer at you. Do you mind?” he asks, thumb brushing over your cheek. 

You shake your head at him, softly pressing your lips on his. “I don’t mind at all, you can look for as long as you want,” you whisper against his lips.

Alex wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you close to him. His lips brush over your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Last one to reach the top has to do the dishes tonight,” he whispers against your ear, before swiftly turning you around, and running off.

You stand there for just a second, completely dumbfounded by what just happened. “Oh shit!” you curse, running towards the direction Alex took off in. “That dude thinks he’s so freaking smart,” you mumble underneath your breath. He’s smart, you don’t doubt that at all, but apparently he forgot you run 5 miles almost every day. He might be the hockey player here, but he certainly isn’t a runner.

It takes you less than a minute to catch up with Alex. He really made this harder for himself than he should’ve, carrying the heavy bag containing the food and stuff for the small picnic you had planned. You run past him, flashing him a wide smile. “See you at the top, baby!” you yell, pushing yourself to go even faster. You can hear Alex cursing from behind you, which only makes you laugh harder.

You’re the first one to reach the top, throwing your hands up in the air. “That’s how we do it!” you shout into the open air. You turn around, only to come face to face with Alex and his pouty bottom lip. “Oh no, don’t do that,” you beg, knowing he’ll be like this the rest of the day. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

You reach out, grabbing his pouty lips between your fingers. “Don’t pout like that, baby. You were the one who wanted to race,” you tell him, letting go of his lip. 

Alex sighs, his hand brushing through his hair. “It’s just not fair, y/n!” he whines. 

You try your hardest to keep the laughter bubbling inside of you at bay. “You were the one who turned me around and ran off, Alex!” you laugh, no longer able to hide your grin. Alex grumbles something under his breath. You simply shake your head at him, he’s adorable when he loses so you aren’t really bothered by his childish behaviour. “Let’s find a place to eat our food, okay?” you ask him, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. Alex nods his head, looking around for the perfect spot.

A few minutes later the two of you are seated on top of a blanket, food sprawled around you. You look around, breathing in the fresh air, enjoying the sunshine on your face. Alex watches you intently, your careless face, completely at peace with your surroundings, brings a smile to his own face. “Beautiful,” he says, louder than he intended to. 

You smile, eyes focused on the beautiful scenery. “It is, it absolutely is,” you say, looking back at Alex. He shakes his head at you, a smile on his lips. “Oh. Oh,” you blush, realising the meaning behind his words. 

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Alex says, his hand reaching out to put a strand of your hair back in place behind your ear.

The two of you finish your food and drinks, enjoying some more peaceful minutes with each other. “Come on, babe. Let’s go back to the car,” Alex says, helping you back on your feet. You roll up the blanket again, putting it back into Alex’s backpack, while Alex throws away the trash.

“First one to reach the car wins?” you say, trying to get him to laugh a little more. 

“Not funny, y/n,” he mumbles, grabbing your hand again, his fingers intertwined with yours. 

“Oh, come on! That was funny, Alex,” you laugh, poking his side with your finger. You look up at him, catching the beginning of a smile. 

“Okay, okay! That was funny, babe,” he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. You open your mouth to make another remark, but Alex clasps his hand over your mouth. “Don’t even think about it. I can’t handle any more right now.” You playfully roll your eyes at him, before continuing your walk back to the car.

The car ride home is quiet, both of you thinking about different things, enjoying the comfortable silence. Alex’s hand rests on your thigh, his thumb occasionally brushing over your skin. At one point you must have zoned out, while looking out of the car window, completely lost in the changes of scenery. His hand squeezes your thigh lightly, your eyes shooting to his. “We’re home, babe,” he softly says, nodding his head towards the house. You smile at him, before following him out of the car and into the house.

It’s a few hours later when you’re laying on top of his chest, watching him closely, tracing his jaw with your fingers. “What do you want to eat?” you ask him softly. His eyes meet yours, a soft sigh leaving his mouth. 

“Something that doesn’t create too many dirty dishes,” he grumbles. 

You laugh, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, before getting off the couch. “You’re adorable.”

You decide to make his favourite dish, simply because he deserves a treat. You’d treat him every day if you could, but his nutritionist probably wouldn’t be too happy about that. You’re in the middle of finishing up dinner when two strong arms wrap around your waist. Alex rests his head on your shoulder, looking down to see what you’re doing. “You made my favourite?” he asks quietly. 

“I did, I felt like you needed it,” you say, turning around in his arms. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting your head rest against his chest. 

Alex wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing the top of your head. “Thank you, baby,” he whispers against your hair.

You quickly put the food on two plates, while Alex watches your every move, his arms still around you. “We’re eating in the living room,” Alex says, grabbing both plates, and moving into the living room. You shake your head at him, he’s such a mess sometimes, but he’s your mess, and you love every single second of it.

You barely ate three bites of your food when Alex finishes his own portion. His eyes find yours, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. You furrow your eyebrows, giving him a questioning look. “Can I have a bite?” he asks innocently. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You just finished your own food, Alex.” 

He raises his eyebrow at you, clearly challenging you. “So?” he says, holding out his hand. You sigh, taking two more bites of your food before handing it over to Alex. “You’re the best, babe!” he says excitedly, eating all of your food in what must’ve been a new record.

“I guess I’ll do the dishes now,” Alex grumbles, gathering all the plates and cutlery. You chuckle at his annoyed expression, earning yourself another loud sigh from Alex. You lay on the couch for a few more minutes, until you decide you let him suffer long enough. You watch him for a few seconds, his back facing you. Alex softly hums to a song, while washing and cleaning the dishes.

You make your way over to him, wrapping one arm around him, while your other hand grabs the dish towel to dry off the dishes. “Hi baby,” he softly mutters, handing you one of the plates. You smile at him, grabbing the plate he offered you. It’s quiet for a moment, until all the dishes are clean and dry.

Alex seems a bit lost, you’ve noticed that a few times already today. “What’s going on, Alex? Talk to me,” you ask him softly, hoping he’ll tell you what’s bothering him. 

Alex moves closer to you, backing you up against the counter. His hands slide over your hips, over your waist, only stopping when they reach your cheeks. “It’s stupid, honestly,” he says, shaking his head. 

“I’m sure it isn’t, something is clearly bothering you,” you tell him, urging him to continue.

Alex sighs again, before continuing speaking. “It’s just that I feel like I’ve lost so much already, I just didn’t want to lose anything else,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “See, it’s stupid. I told you so,” he groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

You ponder over your answer for a few seconds. “Listen, Alex,” you start, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I’m not trying to compete with you, I’m just trying to have some fun. I know all these trades over the past few years have been wrecking you from the inside, I know it hurts you. It hurts me too when I read things or hear things. But you need to stop listening to these people, you need to focus on yourself instead, baby. Don’t let their words and actions affect you.”

Alex lifts his head out of the crook of your neck, his teary eyes locked on yours, his bottom lip slightly pouted. “I’ll always be on your side of the team, even if I beat you by reaching the top first. It doesn’t matter, because you will always be my number one, whether you lose or win. Always, don’t let people tell you otherwise,” you say, wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes.

Alex claims your lips with his, trying to tell you how grateful he is for your words. “Thank you, thank you for everything, y/n. You have no idea how much your support means to me,” he whispers against your lips, his forehead resting against yours. “All I ever need is you. As long as I have you, I’ll be more than fine,” Alex says. 

You smile at him, relief flooding through your body knowing your support means this much to him. “It’s a good thing you’ll have me for a long, long time then, baby,” you say, grinning up at him. 

Alex laughs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders again, pulling you close to him. “It’s better than good, it’s perfect.”

[antoineroussel-archive]

“My best is never good enough.” With any player you want :)

21 days later, how’s it going Amanda? 😂 I chose Alex Galchenyuk!

The moment comes… you want to say unexpectedly but, in all honesty, you’ve been waiting for it.

It’s unexpected for the day the two of you had been having that much is for certain. The sun has been struggling against the clouds all day,but you and Alex have been sitting outside, sharing a sun lounge because you’ve become those people, revelling in whatever sun you can get.

You’ve got a book in hand, sitting in between Alex’s spread legs as he scrolls through his phone. The silence has been comfortable for more than half an hour when it’s shattered unceremoniously.

“My best is never good enough.”

A few seconds pass as you roll the words around in your head, put your book down and move so that you’re kneeling in front of him andsitting back on your haunches.

“What—honey. Why would you say that?”

Alex’s phone is now on the ground, it may have been dropped or he may have placed it there.

He isn’t looking at you, not really. Just staring at something slightly to the left of your head.

“It’s true.” His hands hover in the air for a few seconds, like he’s reaching out to you, but he chooses to settle them in his lap.

“But it’s not,” you sigh, exasperatedly. You cup his cheeks in your hands, trying to convince him to look at you. “It’s so far from the truth.”

He keeps his eyes off yours. “I haven’t done anything since I started playing. Nothing.”

“Also not true.”

The silence returns, tense and uncomfortable. “They should have kept Domi.”

Without hesitation, or even much thought, you say, “Nobody should keep Domi. Especially not over you.”

“Montreal did.”

“Montreal wouldn’t know a good thing if it led them to the Stanley Cup. They don’t count.”

Alex doesn’t respond but he does finally meet your gaze. You kiss his forehead and then the tip of his nose. He finally touches you, his hands coming up around your wrists.

“Even your worst is good enough,” you say softly. “You’re always good enough.”

Ficlet requests are open.

[throw-the-torch]

Alex Galchenyuk & Brendan Gallagher - Peaches (Part 1) (Requested)

A/N: Enjoy my lovelies :) 

Warnings: None 

Word Count: 1.3 K

Request: Hey! I found your blog like a month ago and love it! I was wondering if you could do a love triangle with one of the bromances, ex) The Gallys, Toews and Kaner, Seguin and Benn, etc. (Your choice) It could be like all you are good friends, but both start having feels for you and become confused, idk I will leave that up to you! Love your work!!!

“Hey what do you want to do on Friday?” Brendan asked as you finished putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, he was busy sitting at the counter putting some leftovers into Tupperware. 

“Alex and I are going to the Renaissance exposition at the Fine Arts Museum,” you said, recalling the plans you had made with your best friend’s teammate. 

“Since when do you guys hang out?” Brendan asked and there was a tone in his voice you couldn’t place, it was almost like he was annoyed. 

“I don’t know. He’s kind of here all the time and I just mentioned one day that I wanted to go and he said he was interested too so we made the plans. He lived in Italy for a bit and said he never had time to appreciate the art.” you said, feeling a little defensive. You and Brendan had been friends for years, when you got accepted to McGill you moved to Montreal and Brendan asked if you wanted to live together. Everything had been going pretty smoothly, the two of you working out a schedule and you had the natural habit of taking care of each other so it worked. 

“All good I’ll hang with my other best friend,” Brendan said, this time the annoyance in his voice clear as he hopped off his seat and headed to his bedroom. You knew better than to go after him, Brendan was a shit disturber on and off the ice and whatever was bothering him, he would come to you about it later.

Brendan had been off the rest of the week; every time Alex came over he kept to himself. He basically ignored you which made you mad because you did nothing wrong. Friday finally rolled around and you were getting ready when you notice Brendan standing at your doorframe. This wasn’t unusual, he had a tendency to lay on your bed and chat with you while you put makeup on and did your hair. 

“Someone’s getting dolled up,” Brendan said and you could feel his gaze looking you up and down. 

“Yeah Dad, I thought maybe there would be a cute Insta pic opportunity,” you said, pulling your jacket over your shoulder. Your patience for Brendan’s crappy attitude was starting to get on your nerves. “Alex is outside, I’ll see you later” you said and you headed for the front door, pausing only to pick up your purse.  

“I think I’ll come with you,” Brendan said “It’s not like it’s a date or anything” he added as he pulled on a snapback and followed you out the door.  You rolled your eyes and followed him to Alex’s car. You climbed into the backseat, crossing your arms and suddenly feeling over this whole excursion. You knew Brendan and knew he was going to get bored quickly and that your museum time would get cut short. 

“Hey man I didn’t know you were into art,” Alex said with surprise as he watched Brendan climb into the car. 

“Well my best friend is interested so I figured she’s sat through enough hockey that I could return the favor” Brendan replied with a smile plastered on his face. Alex didn’t answer but instead gave you a look in his rear-view mirror to which you just shook your head.

The drive was quiet, a tension in the car was evident. Once you got to the counter of the museum it became a tug of war between the boys about who was paying for your ticket so you just scanned your card to pay for the three, grabbed your ticket and walked ahead of them. 

“Why is she mad?” you could hear Brendan mumble but you were determined not to let him annoy you. The museum was pretty empty which made you a little happier. You started walking around, reading the panels and getting absorbed to the point that you didn’t realize that Alex had kept up to you. 

“That’s really pretty,” Alex said, his voice sincere. 

“It’s one of my favorites actually” you responded, taking the time to explain parts of the painting to Alex. 

“Hey Y/N why do all the babies in these pictures look like old men?” Brendan interrupted before moving along to the next room. You rolled your eyes, at the rate that he was moving through the rooms he would be done in 10 minutes and be asking you when it was time to leave. 

“You know I thought today was going to be just the two of us,” Alex said, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke “I was kind of looking for some alone time with you. I have something I want to tell you” Alex said and immediately you felt nervous.  

“What is it?” you said, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Y/N I’m sure you have guys asking you out all the time but I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date with me sometime? I really like you. You’re so smart and funny and you give me butterflies every time you walk into a room. I was kind of hoping I would ask this and then we would go out for dinner after the museum but we seem to have a third wheel” he said letting out a nervous chuckle at the end. 

You didn’t know but Brendan was watching the exchange happen and his heart was racing. He saw the way you looked at Alex and he knew you were about to say yes. At that moment he did the only thing he could think of doing when he saw the love of his life falling for someone else; he called in the best friend code. Before you had a chance to answer Alex you heard Brendan practically shout the word “Peaches”. 

You looked at Brendan as soon as the word was out of his mouth. It was something you guys came up with as kids. If there was ever a situation where you guys were uncomfortable or needed to exit immediately then you would say peaches and without question, the other would follow. 

“Alex I’m sorry I just need to talk to Brendan one second,” you said, your loyalty pulling you to your best friend. “Don’t think I’m running from this conversation okay? I’ll be right back” you said giving him a sincere smile before following Brendan into the other room. 

“You better have a damn good reason for calling peaches,” you said to Brendan as soon as you were a decent distance away from Alex. “We haven’t done that since we were kids”. 

“I called peaches because I love you” Brendan said, pulling his cap off to run his hand through his hair, something he only did when he was nervous. 

“I love you too but I still don’t understand,” you said, not sure what he meant by it. 

“No Y/N I love you, I love you like Jack loves Sally, how Romeo loves Juliette. I have for a long time and I called Peaches because I couldn’t watch you agree to go on a date with Alex. He’s a great guy and he likes art like you and can say cute things in Italian and he likes to travel, you would fall for him and I just couldn’t watch that happen”.

With Brendan’s confession you felt like the floor disappeared from under you. You didn’t know what you were feeling, so many emotions coming at you at the same time. You did the only thing you could think of doing and turned and started to walk away. “I need to go” you said, walking out of the room and out of the museum, not looking back to see if any of them followed you. What the hell were you going to do?

[thepuckbuddies]

breakfast

prompt:  We live in the same building, and you’re locked out of your place in your underwear because you were doing laundry and forgot your key. (from this post)

player: Alex Galchenyuk, Montreal Canadiens

The ding of the elevator reaching your floor startles you from where you were leaning against the wall, eyes closed. It had been a long day, to say the least, and you were beyond ready to crash. Blinking tiredly at your phone, screen reading 1:32 AM, you drag yourself out of the elevator and turn down the hallway towards your apartment, head down.

Yawning, you reach up to rub at your eye, sweater sleeve soft against your cheek.

“Uh.” You hear from in front of you. Startled, you look up to meet an equally shocked gaze.

“...am I dreaming?” you mutter to yourself under your breath. The man in front of you is gorgeous. His eyes are a brilliant blue, framed by tousled bed head and a dark, trimmed beard. His abs look like they were carved from fucking marble, or something, and his shoulders and arms show a thick swell of muscle. Your eyes track down his body to see possibly the most offensively orange slippers you’ve ever seen. Exhausted, you don’t even realize you’re staring until the guy clears his throat and shuffles a little, scuffing one of those horrible slippers on the floor.

Shaking yourself out of it, you look back up to meet his eyes, a slight blush creeping up your face. He quirks a half grin at you.

“They’re, uh. A gift from my sister,” he explains, shrugging. His voice is rich and lightly accented. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head in confusion.

“Well, they’re certainly...memorable?” You offer. His cheeks turn a little read, and you can’t help but feel endeared. “I’ve got penguin ones at home, so no worries. I don’t judge slippers.”

He makes a face.

“What, you don’t like penguins?”

“Not really,” he scrubs a hand over his hair, bicep flexing. You have to actively stop yourself from staring again but, to be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you succeed.

“Who doesn’t like penguins? They’re adorable and awkward!”

“Well, it’s kind of an occupational hazard, I guess.” He shrugs again. “I play hockey for the Canadiens, so it’s kind of ingrained.” Your eyes go wide. So that’s why he looks like a GQ model.

“What?” He asks, brow furrowing. You wave a hand, brushing off the question.

“The Canadiens, huh? That's really cool!” He smiles, a little shy, and covers a yawn with his hand. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry! You must be exhausted, and here I am keeping you up.” You frown when he scuffs his shoe again.

“Uh, I actually locked myself out when I went to do laundry? So, I'm kind of stuck here for...well, I'm not sure, actually.” You try to stop yourself from laughing but you can't keep in a burst of giggles.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing,” you apologize, grinning at him. You hesitate. “Maybe this is, like, way too forward, so I'm sorry if I'm being weird, but. If you want, you could crash at my place tonight? Instead of waiting for a key or something?” You relax when he smiles at you.

“Really? You wouldn't mind?” He asks hopefully. You shake your head. “That would be great.”

“Sweet! It's just down here.” You brush past him, feeling the warmth of his bare skin even from a few inches away. You lead the way to your apartment and pause with your key in the lock.

“You know? I'm about to let you sleep here and I don't even know your name,” you wonder aloud, turning to look at him over your shoulder. He laughs.

“It's Alex.”

“Well, Alex, it's nice to meet you. Welcome to Casa (Y/N).” You swing the door open with a dramatic flourish and usher him in.

“Nice place,” he offers, looking around.

“Thanks!” You blink at him for a second, realizing you've got a gorgeous half-naked man standing in your kitchen. “So, uh,” you cough, recovering. “Kitchen’s here, obviously. Feel free to grab whatever you’d like from the fridge. Glasses are up in that cabinet. Living room and couch are out there.” You point over the countertop into the open space on the other side. You unthinkingly put a hand on his arm to guide him out of the room. “Bathroom is down the hall, first door on your left. My room is on the right if you need me. I'll go grab you some pillows and blankets, make yourself at home!”

You take off into your room and thunk your head on your closet door. He's so attractive it's unfair, making you sound like a massive dork. “Oh, you play for one of the biggest franchises in sports? Cool!” You mock yourself, pulling blankets into your arms.

“Hey, I found some clothes that might fit you, if you want them,” you offer back in the living room after you've gathered everything.

“Oh, that's okay. I don't want to take your boyfriend’s clothes,” Alex says, shaking his head. You wrinkle your nose.

“Ex.”

“Sorry?”

“Ex-boyfriend. He's not coming back, so don't stress about it. Use them if you'd like.” Alex looks down at the clothes in his hands and smiles. He turns and puts them on the pile of blankets and pillows behind him before turning back and stepping closer to you.

“Hey, (Y/N), thank you so much for letting me stay here,” he says, blue eyes soft. You brush it off.

“No worries. I'd rather you here than be stuck out in the hallway all night.” He laughs quietly and takes another step forward.

“Still, thank you.” He hesitates, about to say something else, then seems to decide against it. Quickly, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your left cheek, beard surprisingly soft against your skin. “Good night, (Y/N),” he says, turning away. Dazedly, you brush your fingertips over where he kissed you. Maybe it’s a European thing, you think, given his accent. Whatever, you’re not complaining. You grin anyways and watch as he busies himself with the couch, tips of his ears bright red.

“Good night, Alex.”

*****

The smell of food wakes you up in the morning, soft light streaming in through the gap in your curtains. You pull on a sweatshirt and let your hair out of its braid, loose waves tumbling down your shoulders. Yawning, you pad out into the kitchen on socked feet.

Alex is standing over your stove, brow furrowed as he flips a slice of bacon. There's a plate of pancakes to his right, and the table is already set nicely for two. You lean your hip against the counter, watching him cook for a moment. His skin is golden in the morning light, cut of his muscles defined by the gentle shadows. His dark hair is even messier than it was last night, curling at the ends.

“You know, I'm pretty sure it's dangerous to fry bacon shirtless,” you say. Alex jumps, whirling around to face you. He huffs.

“Good, you’re awake. Bacon’s almost done,” he says. “And I’m a pro at this, thank you very much.” He waves his tongs at the pan. Grinning, you head to grab yourself a mug.

“Tea, coffee?” You ask.

“Tea would be great, thanks.” You let the easy domesticity of the morning wash over you as you busy yourself with the electric kettle, pulling out the honey and milk as it slowly begins to hum with boiling water.

The two of you exchange quiet small talk as breakfast finishes up, settling down to eat contentedly, across from each other. Biting into one of the fluffy pancakes, you let out an involuntary groan.

“Oh my god, never leave my apartment and make me pancakes forever,” you say. Of course he can cook well, sure,since flaws just aren’t a thing for him. You look up to see Alex blushing red and laughing.

“Well, if you insist.”

“I do. I insist. This is me, insisting you never leave.” You unashamedly get two more pancakes from the stack, dousing them in syrup.

The breakfast passes in easy conversation until Alex glances at the clock and makes a face.

“Time to go?” you ask.

“Yeah. Practice today,” he says, leaning over to pick up your dishes and taking both plates to the sink.

“Oh, leave that. It’s alright, I can get it! You cooked, I’ll clean,” you protest, shooing him away.

‘If you’re sure…” he pauses when his phone buzzes on the counter top.

“Got a spare key, finally,” he says, tapping away at the screen. “He’s headed up with it, so I guess I’d better go.” You smile through the disappointment sinking in your stomach. You really liked spending time with him and irrationally don’t want it to end. “Thank you again for letting my stay here,” he says, earnestly looking over at you.

“You’re welcome.” Alex opens his mouth to say something and stops, exhaling slowly. He shakes his head a little and turns towards the door. “Bye, Alex. It was really nice meeting you,” you add as he looks back.

“It was nice meeting you, too,” he says. “I’ll see you around?” You smile, a little sadly. You can already tell this one will be trouble for you. He’s probably got a lovely girlfriend and absolutely no interest in you.

“Definitely.”

The door closes behind him with a soft snick and you sigh, leaning against the wall. You start to turn back to the kitchen, ready to start on some dishes, when someone knocks on your door. Furrowing your brows, you open it to see Alex on the other side, face set in determination.

“Did you forget some-” you start to ask.

“Go on a date with me,” he blurts, blue eyes scanning your face anxiously. “Please,” he adds, belatedly. His whole body seems to relax when you smile and cock a hip.

“Will you promise to make me breakfast afterwards?” The grin drops from your face as you realize what you’ve implied. “Oh my god, wait, no, I didn’t mean to assume, oh wow that was forward, we can go slow, I’m so sorry—” Alex shuts up your babbling by sinking one hand into the hair at the base of your neck and letting the other curve over your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone as he kisses you soundly, lips a soft contrast to the gentle scratch of his beard. Your own hands fly to his chest, where you can feel the steady pounding of his heart. He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours. His eyelashes tickle where they brush against your skin.

“I’ll make you as many breakfasts as you want,” he says quietly into the scant inches between you. You’re trying to form a coherent response, but that kiss still has you reeling.

“Good plan,” you manage eventually. “I like that plan.” Alex laughs and you can’t help but to reel him in again.

The kiss feels like a promise.

author’s note: hey! new hockey imagines blog, here. hope you liked this chucky imagine! feel free to send in prompts, critiques, requests, encouragement, questions, cookies, marriage proposals, nuclear codes, etc.

[matsbarzal]

Back in Russia - Alex Galchenyuk

Notes: i rly like this one a lot and im not sure if it captures the angsty stuff the requester wanted, but i hope so!! flashbacks are in italics

Warnings: angst, kind of a shitty ending

Request: Hey pal! Your imagines are so good. I was wondering if you could write an imagine with Chucky and the prompt be the first time he sees Reader in years since leaving Russia at fifteen?? And it’s just a lot of angst.

Your parents were travellers; they couldn’t stay in one place for too long. It got boring, uninteresting, or too ‘similar’ as they said. They needed something exotic to spike their interest. Which, in a way, helped play into their line of work, both parents being government workers, it made it easy for them to travel when and where the government requested it. It’s what brought you to Russia, all those years ago.

It’s what also brought you to Alex Galchenyuk 10 years ago.

The American-born hockey player was one of your first ever friends. Truthfully, when you and your parents first moved to Russia, you didn’t understand the language completely; you knew bits and pieces, but never enough that you could follow along in a full conversation. Alex got that, his family didn’t live in the States for too long, but he spoke English and Russian fluently, which had you easily gravitating to him.

In a way, he was your first best friend. Your first everything, really. The two of you did everything together, he taught you how to skate, how to sneak out of the creaky houses in the middle of the night, and he basically even taught you how to kiss. He wasn’t only your first best friend; he was your first love, as cliché as it sounds.

“Alex, stop! We’re gonna get in trouble!” You giggled, practically hanging off the older boy beside you as he looked from side to side, to make sure that neither of your parents were watching the two of you.

“Shhh! You’re too loud, they’re gonna catch us.”

He stepped on a few of the floorboards in front of the two of you, and determined them to be squeak free, which had him continuing towards the front door. After a few more minutes of this, the two of you were out of the house, the typical Russian snow falling all around you.

“Jesus, Alex! It’s freezing.”

Shivering to emphasis your point, you didn’t think that it would’ve been necessary to bring your coat with you, as it wasn’t snowing last time you looked out the window. You barely realized that the boy beside you was handing you his jacket until he nudged your shoulder with it. You gratefully took it from his hands, a small smile playing on your lips in gratitude.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

You allowed him to grab your hand and drag you along, just like he did every other night, but something about tonight was different. You couldn’t tell if it was the snow, or if it was the way he gripped your hand, but there was definitely something different.

“I wanna show you something, I’ve wanted to show you for a while but I just never thought that it was the right time.” He looked down at you, the height difference meaning you had to tilt your head to look up at him.

You allowed him to continue to guide you to whatever plan he had in mind, and when you finally came to a stop it was at an empty park, one you had seen plenty of times.

“Alex, we pass by this park like… every day.”

The hockey player shushed you again and moved you towards the open field beside it “Lay on your back, facing the sky.”

Doing as you were told, Alex did the same, both of you lying side by side as your fingers were still entwined. He gestured with his head for you to look up, and once you did, you were in awe.

The mixture of the snow falling on your nose, and the twinkling stars in the sky, it was so natural… and so beautiful, all in one. “Alex… it’s beautiful.”

He gave you a lopsided grin, “Anna showed me this once. It helps to calm me down after a big game. It’s just so soothing to look up and not see city lights, or hear cars. I thought you’d like it. You always like stuff like this.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you continued to gaze at the falling snowflakes, not even realizing that the boys gaze beside you wasn’t on the sky, but was on your face, scanning it for any sign that his next plan wasn’t going to work.

“Hey, can I tell you something?”

Nodding, you looked at him, only to feel something pressed against your lips. It took you a second to realize what was going on, and when you did, you allowed yourself to fall into the kiss, your first kiss.

After that it was just a continuation of firsts, first date, first boyfriend, and eventually even your first time. You gave everything to him, and vice versa. It was only a few months later that you learned your parents were moving back home, thousands of miles away from Russia, and obviously, you were going with them.

Realistically, that was the first time you ever experienced heartbreak of any kind. You were forced to leave the boy you loved, with the likely chance you would never see him again, and truthfully, you didn’t know how to cope with that.

Like any other goodbye, it was a tearful one, where you promised you’d call and skype, and he said the same. That lasted a few weeks, where eventually it led to just texting every day, until it was like you only texted once or twice a year to say ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Happy Birthday’. It truly was heartbreak.

All of this came flooding back to you when you made eye contact with those bright blue eyes, after all these years, you didn’t think you’d ever see him again.

You knew he was a professional hockey player, your parents had mentioned that he was playing in the OHL, but you never bothered to follow along. He wasn’t yours anymore; you weren’t supposed to love him anymore. You never thought you’d ever see him again.

It was obvious that you both shared the same expressions on your face, one of shock and disbelief, as you looked upon each other in the dainty café, the small rumblings of people talking all around you, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you. Not a boy anymore, but a man, the beard and body structure to prove.

“Alex…”

“(Y/N)…”

Although you were feet apart and the loudness of the café didn’t allow you to truly hear the word whispered from his mouth, the way his lips moved and folded around the name made you realize, he too, recognized who was sitting in front of him.

You never thought you’d run into him in Montreal of all places. You had told him all those years ago, that McGill was your plan, far away from your parents and away from the exotic decisions they always had, away from the new languages and the new people, because you needed stability and McGill could give you that.

There were two guys with him, one a shorter male, and the other about the same height, obviously Russian from the looks of him. They both repeatedly said his name, trying to catch his attention, but nothing could sway him from you.

Shooing them off, he moved towards your table, not once breaking eye contact.

“Is this seat taken?”

His body had changed, but his voice hadn’t, like many Russian boys, he went through puberty young, his voice changing when he was just 13.

Shaking your head, he immediately pulled out the chair and sat down in front of you. Neither of you said anything, the tense and awkwardness seeping into the air between the two of you.

“You haven’t changed much.” He murmured, gesturing to your choice of attire, and the fact that you’ve looked the same since you were 15, just a little older looking now.

“You have.” He still had the same face, but he didn’t have the chubby cheeks or the baby fat, he had turned that into muscle, and his skin wasn’t bare, but ink littered it like a canvas.

“Your decision on McGill never changed, then.”

You were surprised he remembered, with how much was going on his life right now, you figured you were just a background thought that occasionally popped into his mind when he got the facebook notification that it was your birthday, or the snapchat icon that said you hadn’t talked in a while and needed love.

“I always needed stability, you know that.” The table grew quiet again as the two of you eyed each other. “Congratulations on making it here, it was always your dream to play professional hockey back home.”

Nodding his head, he looked around, “Not here, though. Not in Montreal, but… it brings stability, and love. The city loves us; I couldn’t get the amount of love anywhere else.”

You understood, everywhere you turned it was like Canadien’s merchandise was plastered at every corner, jerseys, posters, lamps, waffle makers, they were everywhere, you just never realized how stupid you were. Galchenyuk wasn’t a common last name, how didn’t you realize?

“I’ve um… I’ve missed you.” He murmured, a look of intensity that you couldn’t place, crossing his eyes.

You couldn’t say it back, for he’d realize that all your years of pent up frustration and anger were all rooted in love, something that you had never said to him, and most likely would never say to him.

“I can’t do this. Your friends are waiting for you, Alex.”

“(Y/N)… I…”

“Don’t. Please go, your friends are waiting.”

[nhl-imagines-posts]

Alex Galchenyuk - Another Bouquet of Flowers

Team: Montreal Canadiens

Requested: No

Edited: Yes

Word count: 818

Summary: You’re friends but he always flirts with you

~

 “Oh Alex,” I rub my temples in stress as I open my apartment door. “Another bouquet of flowers?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” his voice is muffled from the overwhelming bouquet of pink lilies.

“I still have the flowers from last time sitting on my counter.” Despite my words, I move to the side to let him in. “And the time before that.”

“Maybe it’s a sign of how good of a boyfriend I’d be,” he moves the bouquet to wink at me.

“Or it’s a sign you’re giving me way too many flowers.” I fill a vase up with water and set it on the counter.

I take the flowers from him and cut the bottoms off, eyeing him out of the corner of my eye as he sits at my counter stool and watches my movements.

“Why are you staring at me?” I demand, plopping the flowers into the vase.

“I’m just admiring your ass.”

“That’s what every girl wants to hear,” I snort. “Tip, when you’re trying to get a girl to date you, don’t mention that you’re staring at her ass.”

“I won’t have to ask another girl to date me because you and I are gonna end up together forever,” he objects, “And I’m staring at more than your ass. I’m staring at your eyes that sparkle. I’m staring at your cute, button nose. I’m staring at those kissable lips.”

My breathe heavies as he reaches a hand out, tracing my lips gently with his index finger.

I watch him with inquisitive eyes as he watches me with dark blue ones.

His hand slithers down to grip my jaw softly.

The sound of kids yelling and laughing outside breaks us out of our trance.

Or me, at least.

I turn away from him and cough awkwardly, moving to wash a pan in the sink. “So when is your next game?”

~~~

“What do you want for Valentine’s Day?”

I look up at him from my phone, a confused expression covering my face.

I blush as I notice he’s already staring at me.

“Why would you get me something for Valentine’s Day?” I ask.

“Well, you’re my girlfriend.”

“Galchenyuk, we’ve talked about this,” I sigh in exasperation, reaching my foot over to gently kick his shin.

He grabs my foot suddenly, yanking it so my other foot ends up in his lap as well.

He rests his arms over my shins so I can’t move.

I roll my eyes.

“And I still don’t understand why you won’t date me.”

“Well, one, it wouldn’t be fair to him, two, I’m afraid a relationship will ruin our friendship,” I list.

“Y/N he said it was completely fine with him!”

“You asked him?” I screech.

Alex and I met because I used to date one of his friends.

Obviously me and that guy broke up, but Alex and I remained friends.

Ever since Alex found out we broke up he’s been asking me to go out with him.

And every time, I say no.

“Well I didn’t ask him,” the tall man denies, “I kept talking about how gorgeous, smart, funny, talented, charming, passionate-“”Continue with the story,” I interrupt, but the blush creeping up my neck is undeniable.

“And he said that if I ever wanted to ask you out, I could.” He pauses. “This was after the first ten times, by the way.”

I roll my eyes but a smile makes its way onto my face.

“What was your second excuse? Oh yeah.” He moves and before I know it, his heavy body is looming over mine.

His hands are pressed on either side of my head to keep me from moving (not that I want to).

His blue eyes look at me intensely and I just stare back blankly.

“Our friendship will never be ruined because we’re going to go on a bunch of dates,” one of his hands move to push my hair out of my face gently, but his eyes don’t move from mine. “Then we’ll meet each other’s families.”

He leans down to kiss my temple, but then leans back up to connect his eyes to mine.

“Then we’ll move in together.” His hand slides along my body on the couch.

“Then we’ll get engaged.” He grabs my left hand and examines my ring finger.

My heart flutters at the thought of a ring decorating it.

“Then we’ll get married.” This time he puts his hand against mine and laces them together.

“Then we’ll have a couple of kids.” It detaches to slither down my body to rest on my stomach.

My breath catches in my throat at the thought of our possible future.

“How many do you want?”

“A couple,” I reply softly.

He smirks, knowing he’s got me.

He leans down to pecker my neck with kisses. “What do you say, love? Do you want that?”

“Yes.”

[aucelebrity]

Au Meme : Alex Galchenyuk talks about your engagement.

[untouchablealways]

Alex Galchenyuk - Birth

Warnings: Some curse words.

Mentions: Brendan Gallagher and Nate Beaulieu

Sitting on the couch next to your fiancé, you took a deep breath and lay your head on his shoulder. You move your hand up your almost nine-month pregnant stomach where you felt your baby boy start to kick.

"You okay?" Your fiancé Alex asked, scooting closer to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

"Does it look like it?" You mumbled. "I'm feeling miserable. I can barely do anything. I just want to have him already."

Alex felt bad for you for having swollen feet all the time and a sore back. You were really stubborn and didn't want to just sit around all the time. You were always on your feet and Alex didn't like that. He wanted you to have your rest, but you insisted. He was surprised you were even sitting for more than ten minutes.

You close your eyes, thinking it wouldn't hurt to relax a little. You were always on the go because you wanted to get used to running around for your baby boy. "This is nice," you softly said.

"You're not going to the game tomorrow," Alex demanded.

You quickly sit up straight to look at your fiancé like if he was crazy. "You're funny," you said, sarcastically. "I'm going just like I always do."

"No you're not," he argued. "You're exhausting yourself, babe. You need more rest."

"No, I don't. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're not going and that's final, Y/N. You're about to have a baby in a few days. I'm doing this for you and our son."

You scoff and move yourself a few inches away from him, "I went the other day and I was fine. Don't tell me I can't go to your game. I don't want to be in this damn house all day."

"I'm gonna tell your sister to come here to make sure you don't try to leave," Alex told you.

You rolled your eyes, holding in a sarcastic chuckle. You know you can talk your sister into taking you to the game. "Whatever," you responded, ending the conversation.

***

When your older sister, Marie came the next day, Alex ended up leaving to the arena. She saw the smirk on your face, knew what you were up to. She wasn't going to give in to you this time. "No."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What do you mean, 'No?' You know you want to go to the game, too."

"I don't care. I'm not giving into you this time, Y/N," Marie said, sternly.

"Come on, Marie. You know you want to."

Marie stood there in front of you, trying to stay strong. "Still not happening. You heard Alex. You need more rest. There's still more games to go to after the baby is born. Missing one game wouldn't hurt. We can still watch it on T.V."

"Well, you know what? I'm a fucking adult. I can do whatever the hell I want," you stated. "I don't need you nor Alex to tell me what to do." You didn't bother listening to what Marie was telling you when you walked upstairs to change your clothes.

Marie tells herself, "This isn't going to be good."

You got dressed in a pink and white floral maxi dress with some sandals. You didn't bother with makeup and you let your hair down in its natural waves. Your baby boy started to kick, making you wince. "Take it easy, baby," you chuckled.

Walking down the stairs, you spotted Marie standing near the front door. You have a feeling she'll end up going with you.

"You coming?"

"Do you really think this is a good idea, Y/N?" She asked, nervously. "I mean, what will Alex think? He thinks it's good for you to get some rest. And I agree with him."

Rolling your eyes, you say, "I'll be fine. Now if you want to go, we have to leave now to be able to make it on time."

Marie sighs, finally giving up, "Fine. But I'm driving."

You smile, "Deal."

Marie kept going on about how Alex was going to be pissed at you. You shut her out by turning the radio on to listen for the next fifteen minutes.

Marie turns takes her keys out of the ignition and turns to you, "We can always go ba-"

"No," you interrupt her, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Now let's go. Warm ups start in ten."

***

"I thought you said Y/N wasn't coming tonight," Alex's teammate, Brendan said as the two guys stood next to each other on the ice in the beginning of warms ups.

"She's not?"

Brendan points to your direction, causing your fiancé to find you and your sister sitting in the front row.

You both made eye contact so you smile and waved at Alex, knowing he'd be annoyed.

"You just love pushing people's buttons," Marie stated, sitting next to you as she shook her head.

You lean back in your seat. Both teams were heading back to the locker room before the game started. "I guess."

Alex didn't play his best the entire first two periods. It made you feel a little guilty. By the middle of the third period, he was growing more frustrated and ended up getting sent to the box for roughing.

You sigh and mutter to yourself, "C'mon, Alex." You ran your hand through your hair and placed your other on your stomach. You saw Alex look in yours and Marie's direction. He was able to find you again and the look he gave you wasn't so nice.

"Maybe you should've listened to us and stayed home," Marie commented at me over the loud cheers in the arena, folding her arms across her chest.

"Shut up."

Habs ended up losing and you wanted to blame yourself for it. Alex had a few opportunities to score, but you could tell he would end up losing focus.

"This is so not good," you stated.

Marie chuckles, "You think?" She stands up when there weren't so many people left in the arena with you following her.

"You know, I'm not in the fucking mood for your damn sass, Marie."

"Shouldn't you be used to it by now? I'm sure used to yours."

You lead her to where you usually meet Alex after a game in the lobby and waited until he was done with his interviews. Marie was going to wait for Alex to get out so you can ride with him and her leaving on her own.

You started feeling a pain in your lower abdomen but decided to just leave it be because you were starting to feel a little nervous about the argument that was about to begin between you and your fiancé.

"He's coming," Marie said, seeing Alex walk down the hallway.

Alex stops in front of you two and glares at your older sister. He adjusts the strap of his bag he was carrying on his shoulder, waiting for her to speak.

"I tried. She didn't listen to me. You know how she is," Marie told him, nervously. "I'm sorry."

"Mhm," he mumbled, now focusing on you.

You only shrug, not bothering to talk to him.

"Come on," Alex starts heading towards the door, obviously not wanting to have it with you. "Thank you for at least driving her, Marie."

Marie nods, "Yeah." She glances at you, making you feel sorry for her. She thinks Alex hates her for doing this.

You follow Alex over to his car and wait for him in the passenger seat as he placed his bags in the trunk. You flinched when he slammed his door shut.

Neither of the two of you said anything to each other. You went to say something a couple times, but you stopped yourself. You felt another slight pain and held your hand at the bottom of your stomach.

"That's another reason why you should've stayed home," Alex said, breaking the silence and still focusing on the road.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Y/N." He was growing impatient with you and tried to keep calm. He took a deep breath before speaking again, "You're exhausted and I can tell your in pain."

"I''m fine," you argued, but Alex knew you weren't fine. "He just keeps kicking me, that's all."

He wasn't believing you. "Yeah, okay."

"Alex," you say, calmly, "Can you just please-"

"Please what?" He snapped, not letting me finish my sentence. "I hardly ask you for anything and the one time I tell you to do something because I care about you, you just ignore me."

You turn your head and watch the road. He was right. He hardly ever asked you to do anything for him.

"Have nothing to say?" He asked, having a bigger attitude.

"Just please stop," you quietly begged.

"It's only because I-"

"I know," you snapped, "It's because you care. You keep saying that over and over again. It's pissing me off."

"Then why don't you-"

"I told you," you raise your voice, still not letting him finish. "I don't want to just stay home all day. You should know I get bored."

"I'm not going to win with you, am I?"

You chuckle, sarcastically, "Obviously."

Alex started talking in Russian. You've been with him long enough to catch some of the words he was saying and they weren't that nice. You let him be, thinking it was best to let him blow off some steam. That was until you felt another pain in your stomach. It was worse than the ones earlier.

"Ow," you whispered, so your pissed off fiancé wouldn't hear you. You bite your bottom lip and held your stomach to keep yourself from wanting to cry.

Alex switched to English again and started saying, "I love you, Y/N. I get so worried about-"

"Babe," you said as you felt liquid running down your legs, meaning your water broke.

"Will you let me talk for once?" He shouted.

"My water just broke," you said, nervously.

Alex furrows his eyebrows, glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road, "What?"

"My water broke. Take me to the hospital," you told him, impatiently.

"But-"

"Just take me to the god damn hospital," you yelled.

You started taking deep breaths to keep yourself from screaming in pain as Alex started to drive a little faster. He goes to hold your hand and you immediately grab it. You try your best to stay calm as he stopped at the fourth red light.

You softly groan and lean your head against the seat as another contraction hit you. "Fuck."

"It's going to be okay." Alex caresses your hand with his thumb.

You only nod your head in response. You couldn't believe how quickly the mood changed.

***

After hours of being in labor, you were holding your baby boy in your arms, smiling down at him. "He's beautiful." You look up at Alex, who was sitting to your right.

"He looks just like you."

You hand your son to Alex, having him hold him. "He might love his daddy more than his mommy," you joke, seeing that your son was looking up at Alex and holding one of his fingers in his tiny hand.

"What are we naming him?" He asked.

You softly smile, "I still really like Grayson." For the past few weeks, you and Alex bickered back and forth of what you were going to name him.

"Then Grayson it is."

You laugh, "You're not going to argue with me this time?"

"Nope."

"You know," you started, not wanting to forget what happened hours before. "I'm really sorry for earlier. I know you were just looking out for me."

"Wait...are you actually apologizing?" He laughs.

"Yeah. Shocker, right?"

Alex chuckles, "Don't worry about it, babe. I'm just glad you and little Grayson here are safe and healthy."

You smile, tiredly. You were about to shut your eyes to get some rest until Brendan and a couple other of Alex's teammates came walking in.

Brendan gasped, seeing Grayson in Alex's arms, "He's so cute. Can I hold him?"

You mumble, "Sure."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Nate asked.

Alex hands Grayson over to his teammate. Brendan cooed and gently rocked him back and forth. "Hey, buddy." He goes to sit down in one of the chairs, but tripped, almost dropping Grayson on the floor.

You almost jump out of the bed, "Fucking shit, Brendan." You place your hands on your face, relieved that he didn't drop your newborn baby.

"Sorry."

"Saw it coming," Nate commented. You didn't know if you wanted Brendan to hold your child ever again.

[not-another-imagine-blog]

Mondays Suck (Alex Galchenyuk)

Anonymous said:

Can you please do an Alex Galchenyuk imagine where he is dating a female hockey goalie and she hurts her knee or something and she comes to the rink on crutches and Alex babies her in front of the team then he gets picked on by the guys? Sorry it's so long.

Word count: 1278

This was not how you expected your Monday to go.

You’re the kind of person who doesn’t like the ‘Mondays suck’ saying. You believe that the start of a new week symbolizes a new beginning. Mondays bring new opportunities and the ability to shape your week the way you want it to. If this was the way your week was going to be, then you could easily say that this Monday sucks.

For starters, you had woken up late. After scrambling out of bed and showering in record time, your car wouldn’t start. This meant you had to call your boyfriend and wait twenty minutes for him to show up so that he could jump your car. After you finally got to school, you had to take a test which you had completely forgotten to study for. Finally, you were able to go to hockey practice.

As a goalie, you find that being on the ice is the easiest way to clear your mind. Instead of worrying about school or work or family or relationships, you just have to focus on stopping a small rubber disk being shot at 70+ miles towards your face. This situation really doesn’t give you much of a chance to think about anything else.

Today, since your Monday already hasn’t been the best, practice has to go terrible for you as well. It’s a scrimmage, and everyone gets really into it. So when one of your teammates, playing on the opposite team today, gets a breakaway, your defenders rush to her like it’s the Stanley Cup Finals. You backed up further into your crease, prepared to stop the puck, when a defender reached out with her stick and hooked the opponent, blatantly committing a penalty as the other defender crashed into the pair. The three went sliding right into you, landing awkwardly on your knee.

After you had cried out in pain, you had been ushered off to the locker rooms for tests. Fortunately, you hadn’t torn any ligaments or tendons, but you did have a grade one sprain.

“What’s my recovery time looking like? I shouldn’t miss a game, right?” You ask hopefully. The trainer looks at your knee, focusing on getting it snug in a brace.

“I’d say two to four weeks. You’ll probably only miss three games, tops.” You throw your head back and groan, wincing slightly as your knee is adjusted.

“Seriously? Three games?”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). If it makes you feel any better, you can still travel with the team, if you want.” It doesn’t really make you feel better, but you still smile at the trainer.

“Thanks.” You start to stand but are quickly pushed back down onto the trainer's’ table.

“You can’t stand. You need to be non-weight bearing for at least a week, depending on your recovery process.” The trainer produces a pair of crutches as you glower.

“Really?”

“Really.” You sigh and stand on the crutches, getting used to the new way of standing. As you head over to your locker to grab your stuff, the trainer issues a stern warning.

“I’m being serious, (Y/N). Absolutely no weight on that knee for at least seven full days. Not six, not five and a half. Seven. Days.” You roll your eyes and crutch to the door.

“Will do, Doc.” You lift a crutch in acknowledgement and grab your keys, figuring that you can pick Alex up and get a late lunch with him.

As you enter the Habs’ practice rink, a security guard that’s always working when you stop by can’t help but laugh at your predicament.

“Oh, Alex is not going to be happy about this.” You can’t help but to agree with him.

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t lock me inside a padded room when he sees me.” You tell the guard, thanking him as he opens the door. The guys are doing a post-practice cool down skate, just slowly skating and talking with each other, which means the Alex looks up almost right as the door is opened. You wave at Alex as he smiles, but you drop your hand when he notices your knee. He looks at you accusingly as you sheepishly shrug, not sure how you’re going to explain this to him.

Alex starts skating towards one of the doors leading to the bleacher area. You start walking down to meet him, but are stopped when you hear him yell.

“Don’t move! I’ll meet you there!” You’re not quite sure how he could tell that you’re moving, since he is most definitely not looking at you, but you still stop. The whole team is watching now as Alex quickly walks towards you. He stares at you, eyes filled with an emotion that you can’t quite name, as he gestures wildly towards your knee.

“What’s this? You were not in this state this morning!” You nervously giggle as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Well, we were scrimmaging at practice and we all got pretty into it. One of my defenders hooked a player who had a breakaway, the other defender crashed into the both of them and they all slid into me, landing on my knee.” You shift again, trying to find a comfortable way to stand, which Alex picks up on.

“Here, let’s go sit down.” You start to walk, but Alex has other plans. He easily swings you into his arms, carrying you to the bleachers.

“Alex!” You protest. “Put me down, I can walk just fine!” Alex ignores your pleas, settling you onto the bench and making sure that your knee is elevated. His teammates heckle him as he sets your crutches on the floor.

“Is it ACL? MCL?” He asks.

“The trainer didn’t do x-rays, but he’s pretty sure it’s just a grade 1 ACL sprain. I’m out for at least four weeks, though.” You whine, upset at your situation.

“You have to be on the crutches for four weeks?” Alex asks in disbelief.

“No, just a week.” Alex snorts.

“Yeah, like you’ll be able to stay on crutches for a week.” You scoff and shove him.

“I can’t believe my own boyfriend doubts me! I bet Brendan thinks I can do it.” Alex smiles at you, getting down on his knees so he can be eye-level with you.

“Well then he doesn’t know you nearly as well as I do.” he leans his forehead against yours as your hair creates a curtain, separating the two of you from the world. “Let me go get changed and then we can go get something to eat, okay? And then you’re coming to my apartment and not getting off of the couch unless you absolutely have to.” You sigh, but you can’t help but smile at Alex’s overprotectiveness.

“Fine. As long as we get something good.” Alex leans back and brushes your hair out of your face, kissing you softly.

“Of course. Only the best for my poor, injured (Y/N).” He kisses you again before standing. “I love you.” You grin.

“I love you too.” As Alex turns around, his teammates start mocking him with kissy faces, showering him with their own chorus of “I love you”’s. Max skates up to the glass that’s closest to you.

“Hey (Y/N), your boyfriend know that you injure yourself on purpose so he’ll spoil you?” You laugh and put your finger over your lips.

“Don’t reveal my secrets, Max!” Max laughs before leaving to go make fun of your boyfriend even more. You’ll let them make fun of the two of you forever, though. This Monday doesn’t suck nearly as much as you had previously thought.

[pacific-matthews]

Feel Loved Again - Alex Galchenyuk Imagine

Could I get a Alex Galchenyuk one, where its post break up, (you broke up with him for ignoring you/using you) and he sees you at a club whist he's still getting over it and he's dancing with you and convinces you to give it one more go? Thanks in advance xx

Oop this one sucks... Anyway I’m typing this really fast rn because my laptop is gonna die and I don’t want to get out of my bed to charge it!!! anyway I hope you like it, and if you don’t well that’s too bad isn’t it? I love you guys! -Accius

You took another shot, the amount of alcohol you were consuming tonight was soon becoming endless. Your friends cheered you on as you threw your head back, forcing the drink down your throat. You laughed as they continued to yell, clearly your group of friends being the drunkest at the club. Though you may be the drunkest, you certainly weren’t the loudest. The music was loud with loud voices yelling overtop of the bass.

You knew when you moved to Montreal that you were getting yourself into the party city of Canada. Yes, Toronto had good clubs and bars, but Montreal had them beat. When you first moved to the city you didn’t intend to end up where you were. You had moved here after meeting your then boyfriend at the time Alex. You fell in love and by the time four months had passed you were moving into his apartment. The thoughts of him could still cloud your mind in a snap, the good memories of the beginning, when you were happy; you were both happy.

After just over a year of dating, you felt ignored, used, something that you knew that wasn’t right. Your heart broke by the time you left Alex. The messages turned from tons, to little, to none in a few months. He had just stopped caring and that feeling wasn’t something you had cared for, it killed you inside. To wake up in the morning with Alex gone, not a text or a message of any kind. Then once home he’d pass by without a word and do his own thing. The only words he spoke to you were askings of food and sex. You asked him about it and he promised he’d try harder, harder turned into weak. You left just how he’d always leave, without a word.

It hurt knowing you didn’t have a chance to explain, then ignoring his calls and texts until you hit radio silence from his end. You swore it was for the better, having more time for friends, family, and work. You planned to get more hobbies and try new things, but everyone including you knew it was a joke. You knew no hobby could replace Alex in your life, but you had to move on.

After a month or two after leaving you had agreed to go out with some friends you had made back when you were still with Alex. You were almost too thankful to have friends like them. They helped you when you needed a place to stay and when you just needed to get back on your feet. They helped you find an apartment and tonight, they promised to find you someone. You had pushed against the idea, and yet still did. You knew that you weren’t over Alex and no silly hookup could change that, no matter how hard anyone tried. You knew you’d get over him eventually but tonight, wasn’t that night.

You laughed as you watched all of your other friends now take shot after shot, starting to yell alongside them. You sipped at a water when you felt a light tap on your shoulder before a voice caused you to stay facing forward.

“Do you want to dance?” It was only a small question but you knew who it was as soon as the first word left their mouth. You slowly turned to see Alex, a small, almost unnoticeable smirk on his face. You slightly nodded and let him take his hand in yours. It felt natural, it felt right, to have his hand engulfing yours. His hand dropped from yours and quickly grabbed onto your waist, turning you slowly to face away from him.

The loud party-esque music was easy to dance to, and by dance you meant grind. His hands slowly starting to make you move your hips. You felt him push your hips from hand to hand, his touch gentle and willing.

“I never thought I was going to see you again, (Y/N),” his lips so close to your ear you could feel them, his voice clear even through the sounds of the club.

“I’m not sure I wanted you to,” you responded as you leant your head back, your lips now close to his ear.

“Don’t say that. I miss you y’know,” his accent thick as he drawled out the words.

“I miss you too,” your voice now only a whisper in his ear, but you knew he heard you. You could tell as he pulled away with a smile on his face.

“If you miss me then I assume you won’t say no to going on a date then?” Just by this question you knew he had been drinking as well. Alex wouldn’t normally be that open, considering it supposedly took over half an hour before he was convinced to talk to you the first night you met.

“No, I can’t. You act like you don’t know why I left,” your comments seemed to sober him up as you started to pull out of his grip. He was quick to pull you back into him, now face to face.

“Just give me one more chance. Just one more, that’s all I’m asking. Please,” you watched as he spoke, the outside world dissolving around you. You couldn’t speak, your voice was caught in your throat, wanting to get out but yet, not. You hugged him, his arms almost instantly wrapping around you, just like they always had. You finally felt loved again.

[alisonwritesimagines]

What He Left Behind ~Alex Galchenyuk Imagine~

Requested:

Author’s Note: I’m still getting used to hockey so I had to look up Alex Galchenyuk. I don’t know who he is but I have heard of him. Not good looking to me but I’m sure he’s a good player. So when you send in a hockey imagine, can you please make sure I know the player cause I’m still getting used to hockey. So hope this is a good imagine.

Summary: You and Alex dated in high school. When you both break up from different college acceptances, you find out that you’re pregnant. When you run into Alex at a hockey game, he sees you and your son. 

You were walking up to the Centre Bell Stadium with your four year old son. He was like his dad. Same eyes and same love for hockey. Your friend, Freddy, got some front row tickets and offered you and your son to come with him to the game. 

“Come on mommy!” He tells you. You smile at him and hurry up a little.

“Slow down, kid. The game doesn’t start for another thirty minutes,” Freddy laughs. 

“But it’s the Montreal Canadiens!” Your son tells him. Your smile falls a little. 

His dad, Alex Galchenyuk, hasn’t met his son. You both broke up the summer after graduation. He went to go play for the NHL which caused you to loose touch with him. Now, here you are, going to his game with his son. 

“Y/S/N, slow down. Come on. Let’s go to our seats,” You tell your son. 

You three sit down and watched as the announcer announced the teams. They started to practice for tonight and you sat there watching your son smile at the players. 

“Thank you so much for the tickets Freddy,” You tell him.

“No problem. Anything for you and Y/S/N. Isn’t his dad here?” Freddy asks you the last part loud enough for only you to hear.

“Yeah. But it’s been so long,” You tell him.

Alex looked at the fans sitting in the front row and noticed you behind a kid. He stared at you and saw that you were next to a guy and you leaned over to the kid. You pulled back your kid and kissed his cheek. Alex saw Freddy ruffle his hair causing his heart to break. 

“You okay?” Gally asked him. 

“I just saw my ex girlfriend with a kid and a guy next to her,” Alex tells him. 

“Dude. That’s tough. Is it Y/N?” Gally asks him.

“Yeah,” Alex referred to you as the girl who got away. 

“Oh man. That sucks. Come on, we have a game to play. So after this game, we can get her out of your head,” Gally tells him before skating off. 

The Montreal Canadiens won causing you to cheer with Freddy and Y/S/N. You smile at the team and a security guard walked over to you three. 

“Excuse me miss. A player wanted to see you at the locker room,” He tells you.

“All of us?” You asked him.

“Yes mam,” You look at Freddy and he nodded. You hold Y/S/N and followed the security guard. You walk over to the locker room and you see Alex dressed and he looked up at you. 

“Y/N,” He said. He stood up and walked over to you. 

“Hi,” You said. 

“It’s been a while,” Alex tells you. 

“Yeah.”

“Wow! Your Alex Galchenyuk! I’m Y/S/N!” Your son says. 

“It’s nice to meet you Y/S/N,” Alex smiles. 

“How do you know my mom?” Y/S/N asks. 

“We were friends in high school,” Alex tells his son. It killed you to see them together and not aware that they’re father and son. 

“Alex, I need to tell you something,” You tell him.

“We can talk outside. Hey guys, mind signing Y/S/N’s shirt?” Alex asks to give you two some time to talk. 

“Freddy, can you watch over him?” You asked your friend. 

“Sure.”

You and Alex walk out and he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“So, you and Teddy?”

“It’s Freddy,” You corrected. 

“Right. So, he’s Y/S/N’s dad?” Alex asked painfully. 

“No. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Y/S/N is your son,” You confessed.

“What?”

“I found out a week after we broke up,” You tell him.

“I have a son?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. The next thing Alex did shocked you. His lips were now on yours before he pulled away quickly. 

“Wait, are you and Freddy together?” Alex asks. 

“No. He’s a friend,” You tell him. 

“Good,” Alex smiles before kissing you again. 

Author’s Note: Requests are open again. Hope you liked the imagine. This was kinda hard cause I don’t know Alex Galchenyuk that much. 

[iwrite-imagines]

Alex Galchenyuk Imagine

Alex Galchenyuk: Montreal Canadiens (NHL)

Requested by anonymous: Can you do a Alex Galchnyuk fluff? Something with little russian whispers is welcomed :)

Warnings: language, моя возлюбленная: my sweetheart, Уважаемые: dear, я люблю тебя: I love you,

Word Count: 433

Music: HERE

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You rubbed your eyes furiously, trying to make sense of the graphs splayed out on the coffee table. You were a marketing agent for a large insurance company. This month’s numbers had come in and something somewhere had gone wrong and you had to find it soon or your ass would be on the line.

You groaned audibly as the front door snapped shut. Your boyfriend, Alex, wandered into the living room, worrying creasing his face.

“моя возлюбленная, are you alright?” He murmured, sitting next to you on the couch. A small smile ghosted over your lips as the Russian nickname left his mouth.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just stressed out. I can’t figure out where this month’s quotes went wrong. I’m going to be the one who’s going to get in trouble for it, not even the people who messed it up.” Chucky placed an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Let’s take a break. That’ll help you. You’ll be able to come back and look at it with fresh eyes and a clear mind, okay, Уважаемые?” He pressed a long kiss to your temple and you closed your eyes, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

“That sounds wonderful. What do you suggest we do?” You turned to him, taking one of his expansive hands in your own. Alex smiled softly and studied your face.

“We can go get something to eat or take a nap or whatever you want.” You looked around the room and then rose to your feet, pulling Alex up behind you.

“Let’s go lay down.” You pulled him behind you as you walked back to your shared master bedroom. You crossed the room to your dresser, where you pulled out a big, white t-shirt. You began to strip down and you heard a low whistle behind you.

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes and giggled, changing faster. Alex crawled into the large bed and rested against the headboard, watching you as you tugged your hair from it’s hairtie. You snuggled up into Alex’s chest.

“You’re too stressed,” he mumbled into your hair as he stroked your shoulder. You just shrugged lightly in response.

“It’s my job, babe. I have to do it.”

“Not really. You know that I make enough that you don’t have to work.” You sighed and pressed a kiss to his exposed collar bone in response.

“я люблю тебя.” You murmured. You felt Alex grin against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“я люблю тебя, Y/N.”

[antoineroussel-archive]

not shy of a spark - alex galchenyuk

series:  not shy of a spark

summary:  The Morning After is sometimes the best part of the whole affair.

warning: this contains smut. if you are under the age of 18, back away now.

word count: 1,981

Lola heard the front door open and then somebody moving around the house comfortably. She froze before hastily climbing out of Alex’s lap and picking up her underwear, pulling them on.

She wanted to scream but kept her voice low enough that whoever was downstairs wouldn’t be able to hear her as she seethed, “If you have a girlfriend—”

“It’s just Anna,” Alex said, with a wave of his hand before he stood up and wrapped his arms around Lola’s waist. He pressed a kiss against the back of her neck before she moved his arms away from her, prompting him to clarify, “My sister.”

Lola relaxed for a second before she tensed up again, pulling out of Alex’s arms to hastily collect her clothes.

“That’s probably worse.”

She had to move around Alex, as he stood still in the middle of the room, while she tried to find the clothes that she had been wearing the night before.

“How is that worse?” he asked, keeping his hands to himself but keeping an eye on her. “Anna is fine. Won’t say anything about anything to anyone. She’ll say hello and go back to whatever.”

Lola held her dress to her chest and sighed, “You’re really okay with your one-night stand meeting your sister?”

“Maybe you aren’t a one-night stand, I don’t know,” he said with a casual shrug. He had turned away as he was speaking but Lola was sure that she saw his cheeks beginning to turn read.

Lola smiled softly and walked to him, turning him back to face her and stepping on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Can I have a shower at least before I meet her? And I might need to go through your clothes for something to wear. If they see me walking into my building with the same clothes as last night, I won’t hear the end of it.”

“Sure. Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll make breakfast.”

Lola restrained herself from looking through all of Alex’s bathroom cupboards, but she did pull out every drawer in his closet as she searched for something she could wear home. She was delighted to find that he wasn’t hiding anything weird, no engagement rings or ancient adult magazines, and even more delighted when she pulled out a shirt that she could definitely make work with her tights and even her thigh high boots. She pulled her tights on and then a dress shirt over her head. She put on one of Alex’s sweaters before using a belt to cinch her waist.

At the bottom of the stairs she quickly straightened out the shirt and rustled her fingers through her hair and prepared herself to meet Anna.

They were talking to each other in Russian, she could hear them from around the corner and she hovered in the doorway, wondering if she should take a seat or if she could help herself to a glass of water.

“Alex!” Anna gasped, hitting Alex across the chest. “That’s Lola Faraday.”

Lola looked between the two of them, Alex had barely looked up to see her enter the room, but he was smirking around his forkful of eggs.

“Oh,” he said casually. “You talk about her a lot.”

Anna shoved Alex’s head, pushing his face dangerously close to his plate, and stood up to walk towards Lola.

“Hi, I’m Anna. Sorry to be so in your face but I love you. Everything about my wardrobe and make up is inspired by you.”

Lola smiled and leaned forward, accepting Anna’s hug. “That’s really nice of you.”

“Anna’s a model, too. She tries to recreate your poses.” Alex looked to Anna, “NEXT, right?”

“You’re with NEXT?” Lola asked. “That’s so cool! I got my start with them, in Toronto.”

“She knows.”

“Stop it,” Anna said harshly, hitting him on the back of the head. “Go do something else. Let the girls talk.”

“This is my house,” Alex protested as he was pulled out of his seat. Anna picked up his breakfast plate and put it into his hands, pushing him towards another room.

“I know. Go away.”

Anna offered Lola breakfast, replacing the glass and cutlery where Alex had been sitting and gesturing for her to sit down. Lola took in the room, mostly noticing that the theme seemed to be ‘contemporary’, with little else tying it together. Much like the bedroom.

Anna sat back down in the seat adjacent to her after putting a plate of eggs and bacon in front of each of them.

“Do you always play host to the girls Alex brings home?” Lola asked, picking up the fork and moving the eggs around.

“Alex doesn’t bring girls home a lot. Normally he goes to their house. I show up unexpectedly and most girls don’t handle it this well.”

“You don’t run them off? The ones he does bring home?” Lola asked but, before Anna could continue, she asked another question, “I’m not being fed just because you know who I am, am I?”

“If they want breakfast, they can have breakfast but most of them leave before I see them.”

As Lola finished up her breakfast, she pulled the sleeves of Alex’s sweater over her hands, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. It smelt, she realised, like it had been worn more than once. It didn’t have the smell of a store or whatever packaging it may have come in like most of her own clothes did and it occurred to her that she was wearing something that Alex wore regularly and with the clothes she had seen in his closet she was surprised that he had worn anything more than twice.

More importantly than it smelling worn; it smelt nice.

“I can’t believe you made Sasha’s clothes look good.”

Lola opened her mouth to defend his fashion choices, her hands still hidden in the sleeves, but she heard the dishwasher open and knew Anna had said it purely because Alex could hear her.

“The only thing I really wish I had was makeup. Even just some concealer and mascara to be perfectly honest.”

Anna stood up abruptly and took Lola’s wrist. Lola looked at Alex curiously, but he just waved at her with a coy smile. Lola waved back with her sweater paw, earning a wider smile and a light chuckle. Her cheeks went hot.

“Come with me,” Anna tugged Lola’s hand, seemingly unaware of Lola and her brother.

Anna led her to a bathroom and opened the cupboard under the sink to reveal a decent sized makeup bag. Lola took Anna’s face in her hand and kissed her hard on the mouth. She clapped her hands excitedly as she knelt to check out the stash.

“You’re actually my hero. My saviour.”

It didn’t bother Lola at all that Anna watched closely as she applied her makeup but she was sure to say that what she was doing was far different from her usual routine and even further from the makeup that Anna usually saw in photoshoots or even on social media—meaning that all of that was done professionally and while Lola was good she wasn’t that good.

It was hardly anything, the makeup she did put on; some concealer in all the right places along with some mascara and some bronzer to add some colour to her cheeks and she decided it was enough to get home.

Alex was sitting in the front room, watching the television when Lola walked in. She had her purse in her hand and was ready to leave. Alex stood instantly.

“You’re going?”

“I’ll give your clothes to Anna when I see her,” Lola said. His look of confusion made her want to hide in his sweater. “We exchanged numbers. I hope that’s… not weird?”

“You can give them back when you see me,” he suggested.

“You want to see me again?”

Lola bit into her bottom lip and watched Alex step towards her. He held her chin gently in his hand and tipped her face up to kiss her. The kiss was gentle, too, at first. It didn’t take long for Lola to drop her purse and her hands to form fists in the front of Alex’s shirt as she clung to him desperately.

And only let go when she heard a squeak from the doorway.

Alex looked over Lola’s shoulder and sighed.

“What do you want? Why are you still in my house?”

“Shut up. Lola, do you want me to drive you home?”

“Lola’s staying,” Alex said gruffly before changing his tone of voice completely and directing his next sentence at Lola, “If you want to stay.”

“I can probably stay for a little bit.”

Rapid-fire Russian followed; something clearly sarcastic coming out of Anna’s mouth and something vaguely threatening coming out of Alex’s.

A door closed, after Anna said goodbye in English, and Alex lifted Lola up by the backs of her thighs. She giggled into his neck as he carried her and laid her out on his couch.

“You look really good in my clothes,” Alex said, kissing the sliver of visible skin at the base of Lola’s neck. His hands were making their way up her legs. “But you look better without them.”

His fingers deftly removed the belt from her waist, and it was soon thrown over the back of the couch followed by the sweater. Their lips met, moving slowly but surely against each other, Lola bucking her hips every so often to try and get closer, to increase the friction.

Tiny gasps escaped her mouth and got lost in his. With every button Alex undid, he kissed the skin he exposed. Down her chest, between her breasts and down her stomach until he was stopped by the waistband of her tights.

He complained about her boots getting in the way of being able to remove her tights completely. Lola giggled as he tried to unzip the boots with much less dexterity than had been used to undo the shirt’s buttons.

“They look so good but they’re so annoying,” he said with a grunt as he finally pulled off the first boot and went to work on the second one.

“I wasn’t expecting couch sex, or I wouldn’t have even put them on.”

Lola squealed when her tights were dropped over the back of the couch, joining the belt and sweater and Alex immediately put his lips to her panties. She squirmed. Her hips bucked and Alex’s hands pinned down her hips and she thread her fingers through his hair, making fists to gain some sort of control.

She didn’t realise how keyed up she actually was until Alex moved the lace to the side and two of his fingers entered her effortlessly.

“You’re too good at this,” Lola said breathlessly. Her words dropped off into a moan when Alex took her right nipple into his mouth. “No, really, if you don’t—god I am so fucking close already.”

“Good,” Alex said, moving up her body to kiss her properly.

He added a third finger, and Lola’s kisses grew sloppy and her attempts to buck her hips grew more desperate. She came with a full body shake, her legs involuntarily wrapping around Alex’s body and pulling him closer.

With her eyes closed, a lazy smile on her face, Lola lifted Alex’s shirt and desperately undid his belt buckle and his jeans. The second her hand slipped inside and wrapped around his erection Alex’s whole body tensed. Lola looked at his face, the pleasure running across it, and quickened the movements of her fist, pumping up and down until he was coming with the same full body shake and a stifled but still loud groan.

He undressed, slowly and half-heartedly before finally relaxing on top of her, mumbling into her clavicle, “You’re too good at that.”

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