#chris kreider fanfic

[laurenairay]

Happy birthday, love!!

Number 8 with Mr Kreider because I've had an awful day at work (as I write this on Tuesday) and I would like him to kiss me 😂😂

My dear Jade, of course I can write some Chris Kreider fluff for you. I hope the rest of your week has been better and I hope this puts a smile on your face!

“I’ve had a terrible day at work…so just kiss me.”

Words: 594

*

“Honey, I’m home!”

You kicked the front door shut behind you, roughly hanging up your coat as you heard your boyfriend’s greeting echo across the house, the familiar voice soothing you in a way you so desperately needed. Today had been a shitshow, stress from the moment you stepped into your office to the moment you left, and all you wanted to do was curl up in his arms, letting him drain the day’s tension away. You let yourself sink into the familiar motions of kicking off your shoes into the shoe rack and putting your bag to the side out of the way, knowing that tripping over any of this would likely send you into a meltdown. Today was not the day and the last thing you wanted was to take out your frustrations on the man who deserved nothing but smiles.

After taking a deep breath to centre yourself, you wandered through the house, finding Chris in the kitchen, the beautiful smile he sent your way making your heart skip a beat as always – until that smile shifted into a slight frown.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, drying his hands on a nearby towel.

He always could read you like a book.

“I’ve had a terrible day at work…so just kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Chris murmured.

Taking a few steps to close the gap between the two of you, he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, capturing you in an embrace that you sank into with abandon. The soft moan that escaped from his throat let you know he needed this just as much as you did, his hands cupping your body while your hands clung to his shirt, and you lost yourself in the fog of it all as he kissed you over and over and over again.

His lips were gentle, albeit a little chapped from exposure in the rink all day, while his arms wrapped around you in a way that reminded you that you were home, safe and secure with him. His strong chest was so firm, so solid beneath your hands, and it was all you could do lean into his body, letting him support you as he always did.

When he eventually slowed the kisses down to a gentle stroke of a tongue, the soft nip of your bottom lip, you couldn’t tell it had been minutes or hours or even days since he took you into his arms, and already you felt the stresses of the day start to melt away.

“So…a terrible day at work?” Chris asked with a soft smile.

You smiled back at him as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, leaning into his brief touch, before nodding with a sigh.

“Yeah. People suck. Deadlines are tight. There are never enough resources. New day same shit – the shit heap just seemed to be bigger today,” you said with a wry smile.

Chris grimaced dramatically, making you laugh for the first time all day.

“Well, I can’t help make work easier. But I can pour you a large glass of red wine, run you a bath, and take care of dinner while you’re soaking your troubles away?”

“You are a god among men, and never let anyone tell you differently,” you said, ending with a happy groan.

Chris just laughed, that deep belly laugh you fell in love with, before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Let me get that wine for you, sweetheart,” he said warmly.

Oh what a man you’d been gifted.

[skjeinon]

can u do something w off-season chris like going to boston or something like that

well, he’s from boxford but SURE

18+ because of slight suggestive content

home in new york got boring when the season ended , so when you and chris got bored you always decided it’s time to go back to massachusetts.

you loved it there, especially when staying with his parents. their house was big so , at first they expected you to stay in another room up until the night they had to ask chris a question and you were curled into his side, sucking at his neck.

really embarrassing.

he showed you every single place he loved going to growing up, and even of course the touristy stuff, such as salem and boston. when he took you to salem he had rented out a home along the coast to stay in until you wanted to go back to boxford and you ended up staying like 4-5 days because you just liked being alone with him.

“chris.. can we move here when you retire..” you would mumble.

“sure baby..” he would laugh, running his fingers through your hair while you both watched the boats pass through. 

-

when you’d go to boston you’d avoid noticeable hockey fans at any cost. jerseys or anything , only because he just didn’t want to be noticed. you found it even a little silly when he would pull you aside because he just hated being seen.

in new york it wasn’t a big deal but anywhere else, it was usually to enjoy his time with you so it just wasn’t ideal.

when going to boston, he takes you to all of his favorite restaurants he goes to when on the road playing boston and he shows you where he had lost his virginity. “she hated it.” he giggled. “why?“ you quirked an eyebrow. “i was too big.” he smiled, pushing a kiss to the temple of your head, holding you close as the two of you walked.

-

you both even started to look at houses to stay in during the off season, looking at apartments too, which may have worked better in the long run.

“do you think it would be better to look at apartments in boston rather than houses in boxford..?” you looked at him, laying on your stomach on the bed, while glasses shielded his face as he read. he looked at you, seeing the screen of your laptop bright on your face.

“apartments in boston. my parents talk about how they wish they went to boston more often anyways.” he shrugs as he picks his book back up.

you look through apartments until you both find one you like and the next few days you’re looking at them and decide maybe it’s time that you do invest in a second home.

-

you didn’t want to go back home to new york when the season began to come up on the edge of you.

the idea irked you, only because you knew that even though it would still be you and chris, you wouldn’t have breakfast from his parents, you would have mornings where he doesn’t sit in bed with you for hours and sex wouldn’t be risky anymore which always made it a bit more exciting.

you had finally convinced him to close on the apartment and you spent a good few weeks there, decorating while he went back home, but it felt lonely until he finally could drive back up and see you… needless to say you christened the home…

[manchot1988]

2093 Drabbles - Family- Mika’s Mom

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39651339/chapters/99869352

“Hey, what’s up? You’ve had this weird look on your face ever since breakfast.”, asked Mika as he leaned into Chris’s space.

Chris was sitting on the bench at the garden area of Mika’s parents house enjoying the sunshine in the mid-morning hours when Mika walked out of the house to join him. Mika’s mother, Ritva, had kicked everyone out of the kitchen but Chris had managed to charm her into allowing him to help her with the clean up. Mika had wanted to stay and help but his dad asked for his help to move things around to make more room in the dining area for dinner later that day when more family was coming over.

They were spending a month in Sweden during the summer; something they had done before but this was their first year as an official couple. Their families had been nothing but supportive and actually thought that they were announcing their engagement rather than their relationship at first. It seems like the whole world caught on to their feelings before they did.

Mika notices the tears in Chris’s eyes as Chris pulls Mika towards him to stand between his legs. These didn’t look like sad tears but Mika was concerned nonetheless. “Hey”, says Mika softly as Chris hides his head on Mika’s shirt. Mika’s hands settle gently on Chris’s shoulder and hair as he starts to stroke Chris’s hair soothingly.

“I’m fine, I just need a minute.”, mumbles Chris into Mika’s shirt. “Ok, take all the time you need.”, responds Mika. After a minute of just holding each other, Mika jokes, “My mom didn’t give you a shovel talk, did she? She told me she liked you.”

Chris starts laughing and slowly, he pulls away enough to see Mika’s face. He’s still crying but he looks happy and overwhelmed? “I could have handled a shovel talk better, I think.”, says Chris as Mika start to wipe away his tears. “She hugged me then she cried and told me she loves how happy we make each other. Then she said she loved me and hugged me some more.”, he continues as he blinks rapidly to hold back more tears.

“Oh älskling,” starts Mika, as he pulls away to kneel in front of Chris and bringing them face to face. “I told you they love you. They might love you more than me at this point.”, teases Mika as he kisses Chris forehead.

[moregraceful]

16 & 23 !

- ash 💙

thank you for asking 😌😌

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

when i figure how to write chris kreider it's over for all of you. if i could figure out how to write chris kreider, i would literally never stop writing chris and mika. but as it is i'm just like. chris kreider who ARE you. like what's the interiority there. besides loves his bestie, reads books sometimes, massachusetts, speaks three languages, and gets emosh talking about mika? baby who are you!!! i can't figure him out. but i will someday. mark my words

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

oh man. when i was like 10 i went to this book signing for kevin j anderson in a bookstore in half moon bay and i was like the youngest person there by a good 20 years. i remember absolutely nothing about meeting kevin j anderson (my favorite writer at the time, yes i was a star wars eu kid) but my mom, who was maybe mom of the year that year for driving to half moon bay to take her weird kid to meet some adult sci-fi author, had gotten to talking to an irish man while i was running all over. she grabbed me while i was flinging myself down an aisle bc i was, again, 10 years old. "this man has very important advice for you," she said. "your mother tells me you want to be a writer?" he said. "you must read everything. you must never stop reading."

i think about that a lot when i feel my writing stagnate like hey buddy when was the last time you read literally anything. go pick up a book dingus. and when i stopped reading exclusively fanfiction and ya, my writing got so much better. i barely read novel-length fiction of any kind these days (and usually only listen to audiobooks when i do), i mostly read novellas, short story collections, and non-fiction. i think my fanfic has gotten a lot better now that i'm not just reading gay teenager books. like if you read JUST one genre and one format, you never see all the ways there are to craft a story, you never learn how to worldbuild in different genres, you never learn all the ways there are to write a perspective, you never learn how to write the emotional journey of different kinds of characters, you never learn ANYTHING about writing. my writing gets better when i'm reading more, i know that for a fact.

anyway idk if that's obscure life experience but it left a huge impression on me. thank you irish bookseller in half moon bay, you have left an indelible mark on my fanfiction 🙏

[catofthecanals289]

N U R S E ! (I swear I chose all of these just because I wanted to know, I wasn't purposefully trying to spell that haha.) for E, what would a sequel to lactation fic be like!

you are so lovely <3 thank you

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

oh dear, you know my graveyard of fics. It'd be wonderful if someone wrote my max has a small dick fic for me but I also want to write it XD

U: A pairing you might like to write for, but haven’t tried yet.

oh interesting. Hm. Chris Kreider/Mika Zibanejad? also Viktor/Jayce!!

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

you :)

and hm I guess Cornelia Funke is the author who truly ignited my love for reading as a kid. there's my ex boyfriend (kinda, don't ask) who was a writer (not published) who's the reason i started writing myself and 'betaing'.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

well you know I love me some hurt/comfort, I love angsst, I love fucked up shit, and with Maxiel, god where do I start, what do I lvoe about them? how different they are, how special, how people in their world and look at them and say 'this is unusal' and jsut like the drama of it all, the pain, the choices, the whole 'loving oyu has been the best and worst choice I ever made' vibe...

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

a sequel to my lactation fic? Well As you know i wrote this in a crunch so I didn't have time to write all the scenes i wanted to. I had planned to bring things full circle where they do stuff semi-publically in a bathroom at the circuit. Where like max gets out fo the car and he's dying with how full he feels with how much he needs to get the milk out and Daniel *knows* so he finds him and jsut strips his tits out of his racing suits and drinks from him right then and there. I guess that'd be in the sequel

[welllpthisishappening]

I started re-reading Blue Line and, honestly, it’s the best fanfic I’ve ever read. You’re absolutely amazing, I hope you know that. I’m brazilian and we don’t have the habit of watching hockey, but that being said, I would really love to keep up with the sport. Would you have some tips for a complete rookie to understand it and start watching it??

Anon, lemme just lovingly cup the back of your head and tell you how much I love you. Which is what, I’m assuming, Mika is telling Chris there. Jeepers, this is lovely. Like, I don’t even have appropriate words for how much this means. 

Thank you. 

Seriously, thank you. For reading and rereading and such an incredible compliment. Blue Line is my whole fandom heart, so it always means the world to hear stuff like this. And for wanting to get into hockey! Genuinely my greatest fandom joy is getting people to care about hockey. 

As far as actually watching: there are usually some streams you can get, although I’ll be totally honest being stateside I usually just watch the NBC broadcast or use the MSG app. So, if there are any international Rangers fans who can speak on that a bit more, that’d be stellar. Now, if you do start watching when the NHL comes back, things are going to be a little hectic since we’re playing a restarted season with different-than-usual playoffs and hub cities and that’s not normally how it works at all. 

But if you look past that and just kind of...want to watch the game, then the game itself is still the same. No one understands what goalie interference is. I can promise you probably won’t understand icing or offsides immediately, and rooting for grown men to hit each other will feel more natural the longer you do watch. Honestly, when I first started watching, it helped that the dude I was dating played hockey and knew the rules, but also that most of the penalties are just called what they are. Checking. High sticking. Even roughing. 

And I am always around to talk about rules or plays or any goal that Chris Kreider may potentially score in the playoffs. 

[drabblemesilly]

Chris Kreider #1.2

@shea-gropp I haven’t forgotten about you!! :* I hope you like this one. Enjoy!

Part 1 here.

Word count: 840

Watching Chris Kreider plow through a week’s worth of ice cream, in the middle of a New York winter, is amazing. Watching him burp after plowing through the ice cream… not so much.

“Manners,” you groaned, “there’s a girl here.”

He looked behind you, eyes widening, before looking back at you with a frown, “where’s the girl?”

“Doofus,” you sniggered, throwing a balled up tissue at him which he dodged, like the experienced hockey player that he is.

He took the last spoonful of his ice cream and moaned, his eyes rolling to the back, “why haven’t we come here before?” he asked, mouth still full of chocolate and salted caramel, “this is heaven.”

“Because,” you started to say, finishing off your own cup, “you refused to walk the three blocks to this place from my apartment.”

He nodded, fully understanding now, “it’s too far.”

You frowned, “it’s three blocks,” you told him unbelievingly, “you’re the laziest athlete I have ever encountered in my life.”

“I mean,” he said, chuckling, before he lifted up his arms and flexed, showing you his ‘guns’, “if this is what you call lazy.”

“Having muscles and being able to skate and shoot or whatever for sixty minutes doesn’t mean you’re not lazy,” you pointed out, “that’s your job.”

He waved a hand at you, “whatever.” He took big gulps of water before turning to you again, “you know Der asked me if we were dating,” he shrugged, like it was nothing.

To be honest, it really wasn’t anything. You didn’t have feelings for him, he didn’t have feelings for you. This isn’t some kind of best friends to lovers kind of story. It just turns out that you really, really enjoy hanging out with Chris Kreider. But would you consider kissing him? No.

“Who? Derek?” you just had to ask.

“No,” he replied quickly, “Meredith,” he rolled his eyes, “of course Derek.”

“Gosh, chill,” you flicked him some water, “no need to be snipey about it,” you told him, “this is the third time this week that one of your teammates asked about us,” you remembered, “they really should learn to stop being nosey.”

“I told them we weren’t dating anyway,” he answered, “do you think we should?”

You choked on your own tongue. What the hell? “What? Date?”

He shrugged, like it’s still not a big deal, “you haven’t thought about it?”

“No,” you exclaimed, “that’s crazy,” you smirked, “you’re crazy.”

“We always go out anyway,” he offered, “this is technically a date.”

“A friendly date, dork,” you sniggered, “are you seriously considering this?”

He pouted, looking at you blankly. Not that dating him would be a bad thing but it would definitely the weirdest thing and all because what… he’s convenient?

“Kreids,” you started, “if your reasoning is about us being convenient or whatever, I’ll castrate you,” you paused, “with a rusty spoon.”

He laughed, “if you just want to see inside my briefs then just tell me.”

“And this is why I won’t date you,” you groaned, “ever.”

“It’s your loss,” he said, again, like it was nothing big, “but think about it?”

You snorted, “is this a serious offer?” And you can’t believe you’re actually considering this!

“We like each other,” he said, listing things like it was a grocery list, “we can stand each other for long periods of time,” he continued, “and you make me sane.”

“I make you sane because I help you clean your house,” you pointed out.

“And you cook like my grandma.”

You smirked, “are you going for a built-in grams and girlfriend? Cuz you can just tell me.”

“You’re my best friend,” he whispered, all serious now, “and what’s better than dating your best friend?”

You frowned, “dating someone you actually have feelings for?”

“Think about all the benefits,” he tried convincing you again.

“Honestly, if you just ask sincerely, I might have said yes,” you told him, “but here you are presenting it like a case, you’re not persuading anyone here.”

His eyes widened, “I’m not.”

“No,” you chuckled, “we’re good as friends,” you poked his arm, “really good. Why change it?”

“Because we can be better more than friends,” he countered, “I know it.”

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you smiled, “I’ll sleep on it.”

He scrunched his nose, “we already know you’re gonna say yes,” he laughed, “no need to sleep on it.”

“Again,” you echoed, “this is why I’m not gonna date you, you self-centered prick.”

“You like it,” he snorted.

“I don’t, so, shut it,” you said, “you’re my best friend and I think we’re good this way.”

“You’re my best friend,” he answered, “and I think we’ll be better more than this.”

“There’s no arguing with you, is there?” you asked.

“Nope,” he laughed, “if tomorrow you’ll say no, then I’d respect it and we can go back to annoying each other,” he nodded, “but if you say yes… we’ll still be annoying each other except better,” he offered.

The next day, you said yes. Damn it.

[laurenairay]

Take me for what I am – C. Kreider

Summary: Avery and Chris have a thing. But that’s all it is, right?

Word count: 2k words

Warnings: anxiety, self-doubt, some bad language, chris kreider being seductive as hell

A/N: HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY @tippedbykreider​! I hope you have the most wonderful day my love! This is just a little something from me because I adore you, and you deserve a little Chris Kreider in your life.

Title from Take me or Leave me, Rent

*

Avery Carmichael couldn’t stop looking at him. Could anyone blame her though, really? His broad shoulders, his honest smile, his long legs, his strong hands, his perfect curls – all of those attributes alone had eyes following him wherever he went, not to mention his hockey star status, and this evening was no different. She’d been in this situation so many times before; someone on the Rangers was throwing a party and somehow she’d garnered an invitation, and she’d dressed up to the nines in a knee-length velvet bodycon dress to gain the attention of the very man across the room whose attention was wanted by everybody.

They weren’t dating. She didn’t even know if she was the only one he was hooking up with, but fuck did she want him all to herself and more. More was a dangerous thought and desire to follow though, she knew that much. It was something that comforted Avery on those lonely nights when she drank wine alone in her apartment, but not something that she knew in her bones would ever come true. No, he wanted her for her body, and that was something she wasn’t willing to give up, even if it did make her heart crack just that little bit more each time.

Her pretty dresses and perfectly curled titian hair and effortless make-up were just the armour that she wore, to make herself feel confident enough to go out to get what made her feel so good in the moment, and to keep those beautiful brown eyes locked on her.

And here she was, yet again, pressed into the wall of an empty room by Chris Kreider’s hot firm body, his hands clutching at her waist, his face buried in her neck, her lips stinging from having made-out with him for the last twenty minutes. What was she doing? Was all of this really worth it? Having him in this short moment only to have him crumble away like Cinderella at the end of the night?

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Chris just hummed softly at her whisper, ignoring her words to press another gentle kiss to her skin, lips brushing ever-so-softly.

“Chris! I mean it!” Avery murmured, head spinning, unclenching one fist from his shirt to press her hand flat to his chest, pushing slightly to show him she meant it.

He groaned softly but lifted his head up to look down at her properly. “Who say we shouldn’t, hm?”

“Anyone with two brain cells to rub together?”

Chris just laughed, shaking his head fondly.

“I’m serious, Avery. Why shouldn’t we? We’re both single, both attracted to each other, both more than willing…so why not?”

There were a dozen reasons on the tip of her tongue, but none that passed her lips. All of her reasons were stupid selfish things, designed to protect only herself in the inevitable fallout, to stop her heart from shattering in the way that she knew it would if he got his hands on it properly – but she couldn’t bring herself to say any of them.

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that it?”

In what world!

“No, of course not, I just…I…”

She trailed off with a frustrated huff, stepping out from where he was pinning her to the wall to give herself some much-needed breathing room. Any moment his hands were on her, her thoughts scrambled, and any rational thinking went right out the window – and right now she needed to think. She needed to at least attempt to scrape together a little dignity to hold herself together right now, and that meant having at least a few feet of distance between her and him.

Even if the way he looked at her made her knees feel weak as jelly.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she groaned.

“Like what?” he mused.

“Like you’re imagining me with my clothes off,” she shot back.

He laughed, eyes lighting up. “Well I wasn’t thinking that before, but I certainly am now.”

Fantastic, just what her weak will needed. Avery bit her bottom lip to stop anything stupid coming out of her mouth, her eyes zeroing in on the way that his eyes fell to her mouth, only succeeding in making her tremble in every way she shouldn’t.

“You know sweetheart, if you want something from me, you only have to ask,” he murmured, dark eyes looking deeply into hers.

Avery found herself inhaling sharply, quickly shaking her head as heat rose to her cheeks, Chris just watching her with a soft smile. If only he could read her mind, really and truly, if only he could see that wanting him wasn’t the problem at all. No, there was wanting and wanting, and she hated herself for needing both. Any other girl would be over the moon to have Chris in the way she already did, so why did she have to crave more? Why was she so desperate for what she knew she couldn’t have? And yet…

“What if I don’t know what I want?”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before they settled back into his usual confident expression, and she knew right then that he’d read into her words like she’d hoped. His smile spread slowly into a smirk that sent shivers down Avery’s spine, and ever so slowly, he walked towards her, eyes dark with intent, making her heart race and her breathing come out all shaky as her back hit the opposite wall.

“Why don’t we figure that out together?”

She couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped from her throat, Chris’s smirk shifting into a frown.

“You say it like it’s so easy. Like you can just snap your fingers and make the rest of the world disappear,” she said softly, bitterly.

“It can be exactly that easy. I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks or says,” Chris said firmly, “I want you, and I don’t care about the rest of the world.”

I want you.

I want you.

I want you.

Was he for real right now? Was this really happening

“You want me?” she said a little breathlessly, blurting out the thought consuming her mind.

The harshness in his face immediately softened, a sort-of helpless smile spreading across his lips.

“Oh sweetheart, you didn’t know?”

How could she possibly have known? All they’d ever done was make-out in secluded areas of parties, had quiet talks in quiet corners, hooked up in empty rooms in a rush of heat and teeth and hands. He’d never given any obvious indication that he wanted more than what they had always done, always seemed so happy and satisfied – but then again, neither had she. Had she really missed out on this, what she could’ve had?

All she could do was shake her head, her heart twinging slightly at the look of sadness that brushed across his face.

“I’ll get down on my knees in front of the whole of New York to declare how much I adore you if you want me to. To beg you to take me as I am, just a simple hockey player, head over heels for you in every conceivable way,” he said softly.

If the image that his words produced didn’t send her head spinning, nothing ever would.

“You are so much more than just a simple hockey player, Chris, you know that. I just can’t believe you’d want more than hooking up with me,” Avery murmured, more than a little stunned.

“I love hooking up with you, don’t get me wrong,” he said with a wry smile, “You drive me wild like no woman ever has before. But it’s not enough for me anymore – I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out if you want what I do.”

And isn’t that a thought? New York’s hottest bachelor, going crazy over her?

“I do. Want what you want, I mean,” she said, “I just, I never thought-”

“Thank fuck,” he groaned, interrupting her rambling, making her laugh softly at the relief in his voice, “I want so much, sweetheart, and I hated the thought that it was just me. You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to wake up with you in my arms after blowing your mind the night before. How much I want to show you off to all the guys knowing that they won’t just tease me for letting you slip through my fingers again. How much I want to take you out and explore the world before rocking yours over and over again.”

Promises, promises. “I like the sound of all that.”

“So we’re doing this? Me and you?” Chris said, smiling.

“I need to think,” she blurted out.

Oh fuck.

Chris froze, before his face melted into confusion. “You need to think?”

“We’ve only ever hooked up before, Chris, and out of nowhere you want more? Even though it’s everything I’ve hoped for, for longer than I care to admit? It’s just a bit…overwhelming,” she admitted.

Maybe it was a bit embarrassing to admit she was overwhelmed, but the last thing Avery wanted to do was rush into something when she wasn’t in the right headspace. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them, and it sure as hell wouldn’t end well. And fuck did she want this to work out, with all the things he’d just promised her.

“Hey, it’s okay, I get it. I just wish I’d been honest with you about how I felt sooner,” Chris said, a little sheepish.

Cue the pitter-pattering of Avery’s heart.

“Feelings are messy. That’s why both of us were hiding, I guess,” she said softly.

Chris laughed, nodding his head in agreement. It was good to know that he wasn’t angry at her for wanting to take the time to get her head straight – not that she expected him to, knowing him in the limited capacity that she already did. But it was a relief to know that he respected her and her wishes. Her hopes for their potential future were off to a positive start.

“How about I call you in a few days? See where your head’s at? Maybe take you out to dinner?”

“What happened to letting me think?” she said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you saying I can’t plead my case in the meantime?” he said simply, grinning innocently.

Ruthless. But she couldn’t deny the way his grin gave her butterflies.

“Call me. But play fair,” Avery said, trying to be firm but unable to stop the smile that spread across her lips.

“Oh I will do my very best to play fair,” he murmured.

She narrowed her eyes at the glint in his eyes. “Do you have your fingers crossed right now?”

“Absolutely.”

The unashamed smile on his face made her laugh, Chris just taking those final steps over to her, towering over her where she still had her back pressed to the wall. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, gentle instead of clutching at his shirt, and his hands came to rest on the velvet covering her hips, cupping her curves softly instead of desperately squeezing. So very different to when they first entered the room, but so much better. The look in his eyes was warm and loving, not just intense and dark with desire. His smile was sweet and playful, and he took his time to look over her, making her bask in his attention. 

Avery didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, but his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he ducked his head to kiss her. Softly, sweetly, slowly, he kissed her over and over again, tongue brushing over hers ever-so-lightly in a way that made her knees weak. Avery lost herself in his kisses, finally clutching at his shirt again, making his body press hers fully into the wall just like before. This time though, she knew that her heart wouldn’t be broken at the end of the night. No, this time she had hope, and she was going to hold onto that with all of her might, while she held onto him too.

[princessphilly]

For the fanfic ask game 👿🌝🍰

I answered the 😈

For the 🌝: I want to write for Jeff Skinner but nothing has happened yet

For the 🍰:

https://antoineroussel-archive.tumblr.com/post/181397295405/toward-a-feminine-sea-chris-kreider

https://kreiderrider.tumblr.com/post/654717789856317440/hey-everyone-ive-been-missing-because-ive-spent

[manchot1988]

2093 Drabbles - Telling the team

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39651339/chapters/99867795

One of the things they had to grapple with when they first officially started their relationship was who to tell, what to tell, when to tell and how to tell people. They talked about it so much round and round in circles and Chris, being Chris, had drawn out flow charts and timelines to help make sense of it. Family first, agents next then the team and then the coaches and other support staff.

It wasn’t that they wanted to hide their relationship, neither of them were ashamed of it, it was more of what the rest of the world could and would potentially bring into their lives after it became public. At the end of the day, they’re really just two guys who love each other and love playing hockey. They were still the same people that they were except they were now dating each other.

In the end, all their careful planning didn’t matter. They told their families first - pretty much as soon as they decided they were going to date. A few days after that, after a long game where they won in a shootout, Chris was riding high with the post-game in the locker room but also was so tired that he forgot about being careful and just pulled Mika in for a kiss. Mika didn’t really have enough time to react,decided to just say fuck it and went all in on the kiss.

Everyone in the room didn’t really seem shocked other than to fine them kissing in the locker room and pester them for details on when they first go together so they could know who finally won the betting pool that’s been running on them for years, years. It was King Henrik who won and he bought them a bottle of champagne from his winnings as a congratulations and a thank you as the pot was ridiculous. If anything, their teammates were more shocked over the fact that they had not been in a relationship all this time than the fact that they just started their relationship.

Artemi, Igor and a bunch of the other guys had told them later on that they felt sad that Mika and Chris didn’t seem comfortable being open about their relationship to the team all these years. They didn’t know how to broach the topic so they just stayed silent and hoped that the couple would one day feel safe enough that they could be open with the team. Once the truth came out that they just started dating, the guys just started chirping at them about being idiots who waited too long to get their shit together then took them out for drinks to celebrate.

[stamkos]

rangers :)

is my favourite: derek stepan ofc

i like the most when it comes to the appearance: see this is reaally tough because there a lot. i’m gonna say chris kreider

i would play a prank on: well i’d really pick keith yandle but he’s not a ranger anymore :( so my next choice is michael grabner

i would get drunk with: kevin hayes can u imagine

i would choose for my partner if i got an invitation for a wedding: brady skjei (brady in a suit tho) or maybe brendan smith he cleans up nice

i could just cuddle all day long: jimmy vesey

i would ask for an advice if i had problems: ryan mcdonagh he totally has all the answers

i would bake cookies for: antti raanta and pavel buchnevich

i would read a fanfic about: uhhh idk i guess jimmy and brady? they got some sort of bromance going on

i would write a fanfic about: lol

i would prefer to play in another team: dan girardi and kevin klein 

send me a team!

[tippedbykreider]

it’s all coming back to me | c. kreider (i)

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: Slow burn, exes to friends to lovers, relationship breakdown, swearing, alcohol mention. Author’s Note: So many of you have been requesting for this to be brought back! The consensus was that you’d rather have it in smaller chunks so I’ll be posting each new part weekly and they’ll come in between 6 & 9k per chapter. Not only is it more manageable for you guys but it also gives me chance to keep writing new content for it 💖 There is a playlist for this fic which I posted separately, it gives a chronological feel for their relationship and their story. This has been a tonne of fun to write so far and I can’t wait to tell the rest of their story. Summary: Chris Kreider x Reader Insert. They say that all good things come to an end, that you can never have too much of a good thing, but when Chris decided to end your relationship you wondered how anything could ever be good again. A chance meeting 9 years later drags up all those feelings you both thought you were done with. Can you work through your hurt and pain to see what it is that Chris is trying to show you? Or are some things better left forgotten? Tagging: @danglesnipecelly - this girl deserves a writing credit on this thing because she’s pushed me to keep going with this and her input and advice has been invaluable. Thank you for all the support on this one, K 💖

*Italics indicates a flashback*

The notion of fresh starts is often something that is associated with the arrival of the New Year. People use the turning of the calendar to turn over a new leaf, to learn a new skill, to challenge themselves to be better than the year before and to let go of all that was and focus on all that will be. There’s something inherently magical about a new beginning, a fresh start; sometimes it’s the excitement of what might lie ahead and other times it’s the comfort in knowing that you can seize the opportunity be whoever you want to be and to reinvent yourself. It’s the line in the sand and the final full stop at the end of the chapter and it’s the anticipation of picking up the pen and writing those first few words on the new page.

For Chris Kreider this feeling wasn’t one that was brought about by the strike of the clock at midnight on New Year’s Eve because while the date on the calendar changed and while he still spent the next couple of weeks dating things with the wrong year just like everybody else, it still often felt like nothing really changed for him. Chris could only feel like the year was truly coming to an end when the first petals of spring exploded like fireworks in a symphony of technicolour blooms and he found himself giving the locker-room clearout interview. That was the end of the year, the full stop, the line and the warmer days and the balmy nights would give him the opportunity to decompress ready for the turning of the page come September when his focus would once again turn back to hockey.

Chris loved New York; that much was undeniably true. He loved the vibrancy of the city but he also loved the way that he could melt into the background or enjoy the feeling of quiet solace his apartment gave him. It was oftentimes a bolthole, an oasis of peace during an otherwise hectic few months between September and May but the end of the hockey season and the arrival of summer had him seeking the cry of gulls on the breath of a gentle breeze and that crisp, purifying sea air that always managed to fill his lungs differently. Rowayton wasn’t far, a little over an hour on a good day but with its coastal Connecticut charm, slower pace and pretty houses, especially the ones that overlooked the water, it was a world away from NYC and exactly what Chris needed to reset and recharge.

It was a Saturday morning in mid-July and for the first time in a long time, longer than Chris could recall, he allowed himself to sleep in. His bedroom window had been open all night and the welcome breeze snaked through the slats in the blinds and carried on it the faintest smell of salt and sunshine. Chris stretched his muscles in big pulls around the bed before he settled on his back and inhaled deeply, the fresh air clearing his mind and filling his body as the last remnants of sleep slipped away on the exhale of breath. Imbued with energy, he climbed out of bed and pulled the blinds all the way up, flooding the bedroom with beautiful incandescence born out of a cloudless sky. He didn’t make his bed though, not yet, because while he had left his room and was padding down the stairs, he had every intention of returning to the still warm sheets to read a chapter or two of the book on his nightstand with a fresh cup of coffee, a cinnamon and raisin bagel, that invigorating coastal air and the oceanscape outside as the soundtrack.

One chapter turned into two and two became three and before Chris knew it, the sun was high in the sky and lunchtime beckoned. It was shaping up to be a beautiful summer day in Rowayton and Chris thought it would be a crying shame to spend his time at home, even if the page-turner he’d held in his hands moments ago seemed incredibly appealing out on the back deck overlooking the water. It was then he decided to take advantage of that gorgeous sunshine, take in the scenery and stretch his legs by going for a walk into town to pick up a few essentials at Rowayton Market. For all it was a small, it contained everything he would need to keep him going for a few more days until he’d finally need to drive into Norwalk to do a more substantial grocery shop, something that he’d admittedly been putting off. The Market also had some of the best baked goods and fresh coffee in the village and if you asked Chris it would be pretty rude to not take advantage – it was right there, after all, and Chris never could say no to a still-warm Danish and Americano.

He walked slower than he usually would, a conscious effort on his part due to the fact that his legs seemed to want to go into an auto-pilot primed for life in New York City. He was in no rush though, he never was whenever he came here and even though it was a route he’d walked hundreds of times before, and one he would walk hundreds more, Chris still wanted to soak in all the pretty trees and shrubs that were nestled in amongst those classical New England style homes, all shingled exteriors and white, gridded windows in soft muted colours that mirrored the coastal landscape of the village. It was a world away from the brick and the concrete and the bright lights of the city and while Chris loved all of those things about New York and loved wandering through the streets of Tribeca and Soho, getting lost in bookstores and hole-in-the-wall cafes, he also loved the sand, shale and stars and those were things that he just couldn’t find in the city that never slept.

There were quite a few people out and about, Chris noted, most of them he recognised as being residents with their friendly smiles and waved greetings, but there were a handful of tourists too; there always was on weekends during the summer. Not that Chris minded, of course, because for all the village was a popular escape for those seeking a break from the metropolitan life of the nearby hub of cities, it never succumbed to the all-too-often inevitability of commercialisation and still managed to hold on to its peaceful charm, despite it not quite being the quaint fishing village it once was back in the days before the Civil War.

It was one of the reasons why Chris found himself retreating here in the summer and not making the trip back home to spend the off-season in Massachusetts. He would go back to Boxford for a couple of weeks, naturally, because family was something that had always been important to Chris and he would never miss an opportunity to spend time with his parents and sister, but if he had the choice between spending his entire summer being bitten to death by mosquitoes back home (his father always did say that they were the town bird, after all) or feeling the gentle kiss of the ocean breeze against his skin, there was no real contest. Rowayton would always win.

The main street through town was busier, which wasn’t exactly unexpected and if anything it only seemed to add to the charm of the village. Chris decided to head straight to the market to pick up his groceries, if only to facilitate the Danish eating in a more timely-fashion. He picked up a basket as he entered and proceeded to add only the essentials he’d need to get him through the next couple of days. He’d pay for his shopping before going to the coffee bar, because trying to pack his reusable grocery bag with a full takeout cup was a mistake he’d made once before and was sure to never repeat again.

With his groceries purchased and bags packed in such a way that the couple of bottles of wine he’d picked up wouldn’t clink together when he walked (it was three to be exact but after seeing the selection of cured meats, cheeses and olives available he thought it’d be a crime if they didn’t find their way into his basket to come home with him, and if there was cheese there had to be wine), Chris made his way to the coffee counter situated near the Market entrance.

*

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken a trip away without the company of anyone else but the last couple of months at work had been incredibly stressful, with projects seemingly coming out of your ears and while you knew your mother had been worried by your suggestion of taking off somewhere alone for the weekend, she also knew better than to fight you on something you’d quite clearly already set your mind to. If you were being completely honest, your plans for the first full weekend you’d had off in months would have consisted of not setting foot outside of your apartment or engaging in any kind of unnecessary conversation had you decided to stay home in Hartford, at least this way you’d be getting some fresh air and the sun on your face.

It was just shy of a two hour drive down to Rowayton, which had the dual benefit of being close enough to home that it didn’t feel like a huge trek just to get there, but also being far enough away that you would be a complete stranger in this town and could take the time to decompress and recharge while blending into the background, and the place was pretty to boot. You’d found a little studio Airbnb not too far away in South Norwalk, figuring that you’d only be using it as somewhere to sleep as you’d planned on spending as much of your time as possible being right by that ocean with the wind in your hair and the warm sun on your skin.

That’s how you’d planned on spending your Saturday afternoon, sat on the sand of Bayley Beach with a good book and a cup of coffee. It was set to be a balmy day, with temperatures sitting in the mid-eighties and the last thing you wanted to be doing in the heat was any amount of excessive walking. So with that in mind, you’d spent your morning exploring the village and taking in the sights and sounds. The gentle protest of your stomach told you it was lunchtime before you’d even taken the opportunity to glance down at your watch and a quick Google search pointed you in the direction of somewhere to get that all important cup of coffee and a small bite to eat.

Rowayton Market didn’t look like much from the outside in the sense that it was a little on the petite side, but the reviews were great and the coffee was allegedly some of the best in the village and that was good enough for you. You were greeted with the smell of freshly baked goods and ground coffee, which was welcoming enough before you even saw the bright smile of the girl behind the counter. Your eyes drifted over the selection of pastries, each one more delicious looking than the last and you knew that you were going to have a hard time choosing just one. You knew you’d have to make a decision, though, suddenly aware of the small line that had seemingly materialised right out of thin air behind you and while you were sure that these people were more accustomed to a slower pace of life, the city girl in you, who was so used to living life in the fast lane, didn’t want to keep these good people waiting while you deliberated. You’d go with your usual and that would be that.

Chris’s attention was fixed out of the large glass windows at the front of the shop, watching as people milled in the street and went about their daily business. It was something he quite often did, whether he was here or back home in New York. There was something oddly soothing about watching the world go by, he thought, and occasionally he’d catch something that would quirk his lips up into a smile, like the sight before him now of a rather large gull in the process of committing larceny against what he could only assume was an unsuspecting tourist. Their sandwich was held high above their head while their free hand attempted to shoo the bird away with little success. He chuckled quietly to himself then, not least because the gulls seemed to get more brazen with each year that passed and he was sure that one of these days he’d see someone’s lunch get snatched right out of their hand by the feathered menaces.

Chris had no reason at all to believe as he stood in that line that everything was about to change. Why would he? The day had started like any other. He’d picked up his groceries in this store more times than he could count, he’d waited in a line just like this one for his coffee and Danish and yet, in that moment, something as innocuous as a woman’s voice would bring feelings that he thought he was done with, and memories he thought had strayed out of his mind for good, flooding back to the surface. But it wasn’t just any woman’s voice, no, it wasn’t as detached and neutral as that. It was your voice; a voice he hadn’t heard in nine years and it was something as simple as a coffee order, an order that he now knew to have remained the same since the day you’d first met at Boston College all those years ago, that blew the dam wide open and every word the two of you had ever spoken, from day one to the last thing you ever said to him, came rushing back.

The sound of Chris’s voice calling your name was something you never thought you’d hear out loud again. It was a voice you’d only heard in your dreams for many years after he walked out of your life, but even that had faded beyond memory to where you weren’t a hundred percent certain that you’d be able to remember what it sounded like anymore. And yet, in the middle of a tiny supermarket in Rowayton, you heard him clear as day with his tongue rolling around the syllables of your name with the same fondness, even after all this time and it was like you’d never forgotten the sound at all.

*

Autumn was beginning to make her presence felt in Boston. The palette on campus had shifted from a spectrum of vivid greens to shades of deep russet, amber, ochre and vermillion; but even above the changing leaves, the turning of the calendar brought a slight chill to the air that had you reaching for your jacket on a morning as you left your dorm.

Today was no different. The temperature had dropped again overnight as November creeped ever closer and it was chilly enough that you had to draw your coat tighter around you as you walked across campus towards class. Your brisk pace had bought you enough time to make a stop at the coffee stand just outside of Campion where your first class of the day was being held. There was a decent selection on offer, but it wasn’t enough to sway you from ordering your usual.

You rooted around your backpack for your wallet while the barista prepared your coffee and grabbed you your cinnamon roll, unaware of the new presence to your right, before handing over the money and taking the coffee and pastry bag from the young man’s hands.

“Coffee and cinnamon roll, eh? Now that’s the breakfast of champions.”

You turned your head towards the source of the voice, lips quirking into a small smile at the sight of the stranger beside you who looked to be not much older than you were, incredibly tall and broad for his apparent age but not for his height. He was grinning at you with a fullness that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and gave him a unique kind of softness.

“My mom would disagree,” you replied with a smirk. “If she found out I was having this for breakfast she’d be in her car so fast and dragging my ass back to Hartford.”

He laughed at that, loud and bright with his head tipped back slightly before running a hand through his dark brown hair that was shorter on the sides but had the faintest hint of a curl at the longer strands on top.

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not telling her,” you grinned as you swung your backpack over one shoulder. “So looks like you’re sworn to secrecy.”

You studied him for a brief moment, with the way he was still grinning at you and his eyes that seemed to sparkle behind his dark lashes before your brain gently reminded you that you, in fact, had somewhere you needed to be. “Well, I hate to impose a vow of silence on you like some sort of mafia boss and then immediately split but I uh I gotta head to class.”

“No problem at all and hey, your secret is safe with me. In fact, I’ve forgotten already. What were we talking about?”

There it was again, that smile of his that made you want to stay rooted right where you were standing and look at it all day, but class beckoned and so you gave an awkward wave of your hand and a soft laugh before you turned and headed into the building behind you without another glance back. If you had you’d have seen the stranger from the coffee stand watch until you’d disappeared from view, with that smile still on his face.

This little routine of yours would continue over the course of the next few weeks. Every Tuesday morning, at around 8:45am, you’d find yourself stood at that coffee stand outside of Campion to get your coffee and cinnamon roll, and every Tuesday morning, at around 8:46am, the tall stranger would appear beside you with his kind eyes and his bright smile. You’d exchange a ‘hello’ and a friendly grin and you’d laugh more often than not too while you made pleasant small talk before you both said your goodbyes and went to your respective classes, though you would always leave first and he would watch you go until you’d disappeared into the building.

It was mid-November, now, and the campus of Boston College was firmly in autumn’s frigid grasp. The temperatures continued to drop, seemingly overnight, which had you bundled up in your hat and scarf and the trees had shed their branches of leaves, crunching underfoot with the slight frost as you made your way towards Campion. Your hands were shoved deep into your coat pockets to ward off the gnawing chill and you were looking forward to being able to warm them around your coffee cup.

You approached the stand as normal, rooting through your backpack for your wallet ready to order.

“Hey!”

You looked up, your features fixed in a state of mild confusion while you looked for the source of the voice you recognised but couldn’t quite place. It was then you saw him though, all bright eyed and bushy tailed with a medium coffee and pastry bag held up in one of his large hands as if on display. He was grinning at you and cocked his head, beckoning you over with the wordless gesture.

“Hey, yourself,” you smiled as you approached. “What’s this then?” You tilted your head slightly at the items in his hand as he offered them to you.

“Breakfast of champions.”

Your eyebrow quirked as you took the coffee from him before taking a tentative sip, smiling while the warm liquid slid down your throat.

“You got my coffee order right.”

“It wasn’t hard,” he smirked. “You order the same thing every week and if you open that little paper bag I think you’ll find a cinnamon roll in there.”

Sure enough, as you opened the bag you were greeted with the sight of a perfectly formed cinnamon roll and you couldn’t help the grin that sparked at your lips and spread the full width of your face.

“I don’t order the same thing every week.”

“You do,” he replied with a laugh. “Every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks you’ve come to this coffee stand and ordered a medium Americano with half and half and a cinnamon roll and every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks I’ve been meaning to ask you your name.”

Your face flushed warm at that, not only at his words but at the sure little smile he was giving you and the way his eyes were sparkling. In fact, now that you were really looking at him properly, you were knocked back a bit by the perpetual kindness that seemed to rest in them and you couldn’t help but notice how they really were the perfect shade of hazel, like a forest with a deep bark heart surrounded by leaves that were every shade of green. You’d been quiet a little too long though and so you took a settling sip of coffee to give you enough time to find your voice again and tell him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled as he offered you his hand, which was large and warm as you shook it.

“And who should I thank for the coffee?” you asked.

His smile grew into a grin then, the kind that you’d noticed over the course of the last few weeks that made his eyes crinkle and happiness radiate from him, before simply replying:

“Chris.”

*

“Chris?”

It was as if time had stood still in that little Market in Rowayton, where your surroundings become a still-frame and there’s nothing but static in your ears. You’d often thought about what it would have been like to see him again. Those first couple of years after he’d left Boston College had you imagining all kinds of scenarios, much like the one you were in right now where you’d bump into each other in a supermarket or a pharmacy, anywhere really, but now that you were living it, seeing it, breathing it, there was nothing you could have conjured up in your imagination that would have prepared you for what it would really feel like to see him again. If you were to be completely honest, you were glad that your coffee and cinnamon roll were still on the top of the counter because you were certain that they would have fallen right out of your hands and onto the Market floor.

He abandoned his position in the line then, as if you speaking his name was a call to him, and maybe it was, on some level, but the truth and simplicity of it was that you were suspended in a state of pure disbelief and even in the short time it took for him to close the distance between you both, you were still yet to move and fix your features to something more neutral.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting that he gave you and logically you knew that there wasn’t really any tangible meaning behind that single word he spoke and yet there was something about the look in his eyes and the warmth in the smile he gave you.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you replied, finally finding your voice. “You look, you look good.”

It wasn’t a lie either, he did look good. The tall college boy you remembered, who was just a little too slight for his height, had filled out; you could tell that just from the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretched across the broad plains of his chest and strained around his biceps, and he was no longer clean shaven, which was something that had always made him look quite baby-faced. Instead he was sporting a neatly trimmed goatee and while he had kept his hair short on the sides, just like you’d remembered it, it was longer on the top than it had been in college and the curls were sweeping in a way that reminded you of the waves just beyond the Market door. He looked older, yes, which is exactly what you would have expected in the nine years since you’d last seen him but his eyes were still exactly the same, sparkling and full of mischief , yet still soft, perhaps even softer than before on account of the faint lines around them drawn by time’s fair hand.

“So do you,” he grinned. “You cut your hair.”

“I did,” you looked down as your face flushed with warmth, unsure exactly what you were supposed to say to him.

It was something you’d thought about during those imagined scenarios where you’d magically bump into each other again and you’d thought about all of the things that you would say to him. You would tell him about how much you’d cried when he left you behind to live out his boyhood dream and how angry you were that he didn’t want you to be a part of that, how it felt like all the plans you’d ever talked about were nothing more than empty words and how hurt that had made you feel. You felt like you at least deserved that, especially given that it was never just a casual fling between you both. After all, you’d been practically inseparable for two years. You’d been inseparable ever since he’d said those three words that mean so much. But now that he was here in front of you, all those words that had swirled around in your head and in your chest like a hurricane for so long, dissipated into nothing and you found yourself clutching at straws to find something, anything, to say.

Chris could sense this though. Of course he could because he was Chris and he had always been so in tune with you and your emotions and the fact that he was still able to read you so well was both a comfort and a knife in your chest, and while he internally grimaced at the fact he was having to fall back on using small talk between you both, he felt like it was what you needed in the moment. He wouldn’t expect things to go back to how they were after all this time, he couldn’t, and so he started with something simple, something he knew you would be able give him an answer to.

“So, what brings you to sunny Rowayton?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you replied.

“Ah,” Chris grinned, trying to keep the mood light. “See I asked you first and also, I live here so therefore the ‘question answering’ responsibility falls back to you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, at both his words and the silly little expression he was wearing and despite all the years that sat between you both like a void and all of your hurt that was held within it, it all seemed to briefly melt away and in that moment it was like you were back at that little coffee stand outside of Campion.

“I didn’t realise this was an interrogation. Wait is this one of those little weird cult towns? Should I be worried?”

Chris knew by the little smirk you were wearing that you meant no malice behind your words and so he responded by sucking in air through his teeth before speaking again with one of those smiles that went all the way up to his eyes.

“Watch it, Pickle.”

Your stomach fell right into your shoes in that moment, that name he used only for you slipped from his lips like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do, like he’d never stopped calling you it and like it hadn’t been nine years since you’d last spoke a word to one another. Chris knew all this of course and he didn’t need to rely on intuition either because he could see every emotion written all over your face.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly on the exhale of a breath. “I um.. Force of habit, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. “Although not exactly ‘habit’, it’s been how long?”

Chris winced at that, the reality of how he left things between you both slapping him in the face and he was filled with the guilt that he’d spent almost a decade pushing out of his chest and shoving into the darkest corner of his memory where he would hope it would rest undisturbed. He knew that you were angry at him for leaving things the way he did, how could you not be? After all, he was the one who had broken your heart and left you in Boston, but it was never as simple as that, even back then there was so much he should have said but that was something he wouldn’t realise until much later when it was too late to repair the damage. The thinly veiled hurt in your eyes and the way your mouth was downturned was demonstrative of that fact.

“I know,” he all but whispered. “It just-“

“It’s fine, Chris. Can we just forget about it? Please?”

He nodded, watching with a quiet kind of sadness on his features as you turned to finally pick your coffee and cinnamon roll up off the counter before he cleared his throat softly to continue speaking.

“You never did say what brought you into town.”

You took a sip of coffee to give yourself long enough to settle the thundering in your chest before answering him, because for all your heart felt like it was about to burst from all the hurt you’d managed to hide away up until now, there was also a weird sense of nostalgia that came with seeing him and hearing his voice again, and even though he’d shattered your heart completely when he decided he no longer wanted you in his life, your mother had raised you right and you knew the proper thing to do was to indulge him in a little small talk, even if for nothing more than old time’s sake.

“Just here for the weekend,” you replied. “Work has been nuts lately and I needed some time away from home.”

Chris shuffled on his feet for a moment as you spoke while his eyes darted between you and the door that would lead to the outside world and the possibility of the two of you parting once more. It was an unexpected pull that he felt in his chest at that thought, you reappearing in his life out of the blue only to slip out of it just as suddenly by doing something as simple as walking out of that supermarket back out into the wide world. For nine years he’d thought about where you were, what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were happy and with each year that passed without seeing your face or hearing your voice, he’d resigned himself to the fact that you were lost to him, drifting out there in the seas of life never to see you again. He didn’t know why you’d suddenly come back to him now, whether by some stroke of luck or twist of fate, although Chris couldn’t have cared less which one it was. All he cared about was the fact that you were here at all and it was an opportunity that he was sure he wasn’t going to waste. He didn’t even know for certain that you would want to give him any of your time after what had happened when he left Boston, but he wanted to at least give you what he should have all those years ago and that was an explanation and an opportunity for you to tell him how his actions had made you feel.

“Hey, what are you up to this afternoon?”

“Not much,” you shrugged. “I was just going to sit on Bayley Beach and enjoy the nice weather.”

“Would you mind some company? No pressure, of course, I understand if you… I understand if you’d rather not want to spend any time with me.”

You exhaled then and Chris’s shoulders visibly sagged, bracing himself for your polite refusal, but your response was not one that he was expecting and truthfully, it wasn’t one that you had expected either.

“Honestly?” you started, getting swept up in the nostalgia of seeing him again before the rational part of your brain could catch up. “That would be nice.”

“Great,” he smiled in what you could see was pure relief. “Do you mind if I grab a coffee before we head out?”

“Sure,” you replied. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

You headed out the door and were sure to stand where Chris could see you, knowing him well enough to realise that he’d be worrying, at least on some level, that you’d slip off into the crowd. You’d never do that to him, of course, even after everything, because while he had broken your heart, he was also the first person you’d ever truly loved and when you’d put the pieces back together, you couldn’t help but keep a part of him wrapped up amongst the tape and string holding those pieces together while you healed. It was in doing that that you understood that he would always have a special place in your heart and honestly? You were kind of okay with that because while the ending hadn’t exactly been perfect, the two years you’d spent together were and you wouldn’t have changed that time for anything.

*

You weren’t sure what exactly had possessed you to let Chris talk you into venturing off campus and out in the early-February snow to get burgers at Eagle’s Deli but you were cursing those sparkling eyes and that roguish grin of his for wearing down your sensibilities as you righted yourself after what felt like the hundredth near-fall. It was slushy underfoot, the kind that’s a twisted ankle or sprained knee waiting to happen and while you’d dressed weather appropriately in your winter boots and heavy parka, you were still very newborn lamb-like in your movements which was amusing Chris to no end.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he called from up ahead as he grinned at you over his shoulder.

“Not all of us can be hockey prodigies and thrive in this kind of inclement weather,” you grumbled, shuffling slowly so as not to slip.

Chris laughed as he came back towards you with confident and purposeful steps, surprising you when he offered his arm for you to loop yours through.

“Now, I’m no expert in geography or meteorology but it snows in Hartford, no?”

He was grinning at you, the kind of grin that you had to fight with every fibre of your being not to reciprocate because you’d already committed to your grumpy act and you couldn’t have him thinking he’d cracked you already, even if he, in fact, had.

“Yes,” you stressed. “But I don’t make a habit of going out in it to get burgers like a crazy person.”

The cackle you received from him in reply was loud and a little wild and you couldn’t help but be completely captivated by the way his cheeks were ruddy from the cold and the snowflakes clinging to the curls on top of his head and long eyelashes. Tuesday morning coffees with him outside of Campion before class had turned into coffees in actual cafes during free periods and getting lunch together. It was even dragging your body out into the cold to the Alumni Stadium with your blanket and your thermos to watch Chris play with the BC Eagles because you couldn’t say no to that damn smile and those damn eyes and even now, as you looked at him taking in the scenery along the Chestnut Hill Reservoir pathway, you knew that they were going to be the death of you.

“It’s really pretty along here,” he spoke, more quietly than before; softer too. “You wouldn’t think we were in the middle of Boston.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice walk,” you agreed before shooting him a smirk and a look. “Would be nice in the spring sunshine too.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Little Miss Chilly.”

“I don’t know what you have against being warm, Kreider. Warm is good, warm is nice-“

You shrieked as your feet went out from under you, courtesy of a patch of black ice hidden under slushy snow and you squeezed your eyes shut in preparation for the impact of your ass hitting the cold, hard ground. But it never came.

“It’s okay,” Chris spoke reassuringly, one hand tight around your bicep while his other arm was curled around your waist, holding you upright. “I’ve got you.”

You opened your eyes then to be met with Chris’s looking right at you, all moss and bark and warm. He was smiling at you but it was different to the easy grin he usually wore around you, this was softer somehow and all rational thought was replaced by one of those monkeys playing the cymbals. For the briefest of seconds, and for reasons completely unknown to you, the monkey tried to take the wheel and the idea of kissing him right there, in the middle of the pathway that had made an attempt on your life, flashed into your head.

Maybe it was the snow and how perfect and picturesque the scene around you felt? Maybe it was the fact he’d just saved you from slipping? But the reality of it was that those eyes and that smile held some sort of power over you that you couldn’t yet fully understand. You shook your head quickly, if only to take back control of the situation before you did something more embarrassing than almost falling on your ass.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you regained your composure. “This damn pathway.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Chris grinned as he turned so his back was to you and stooped slightly. “Hop on.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I never joke about piggy-backs,” he replied in a faux solemn tone with the face to match. “Come on, we’ll get you to the Deli in one piece one way or another.”

And that was how you ended up with your arms looped around Chris’s shoulders and his strong hands holding the backs of your legs as he carried you on his back to Eagle’s Deli.

Not twenty minutes later, the pair of you were shuffling into a booth as you shed your coats, gloves and scarves, Chris grinning at you while you blew on your fingers in an attempt to restore warmth into them.

“See, told you I’d get you here in one piece.”

You scoffed at him and shot a playful glance across the table separating you both.

“You’re not human, that is the only explanation for how you’re able to walk in that,” you nodded towards the window where the snow was still falling to illustrate your point before continuing, “and not fall flat on your face.”

“Or my ass,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, that never actually happened!”

Chris’s face split into an even bigger smile at your little protest and the pout that had formed on your lips and while the gentle teasing between you was simply a part of the dynamic of your friendship, Chris would have been lying if he didn’t admit that the reason he did it so often was because you always looked so adorable trying to rebut him.

“No, you’re right. It didn’t,” he mused with a smirk, not needing to remind you that it was him who had come to your rescue judging from the unimpressed look you were throwing his way.

“All I’m saying is that we could’ve just gone to Hillside for lunch.”

“But the burgers here are superior,” he countered, smiling at you. “And you got to enjoy a beautiful walk in the snow with me so who’s the real winner he- mmpf!”

Chris was cut off by your damp mitten hitting his face, brows knitting into a slight frown before laughing at the proud grin you wore at the accuracy of your throw.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said with mock hurt.

“Maybe I’m not a very nice person.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” he replied, but there was no teasing in his tone this time, only the kind of sincerity that had your face flushing warm and had you reaching for the menu to hide behind under the pretence of looking at the choices available.

He couldn’t help but smile at the awkwardness with which you were trying and failing to hide from him but soon joined you in picking up a menu and perusing it, despite already knowing what he was going to order.

It was a few moments before the waitress came over and while neither of you spoke the silence between you both wasn’t exactly awkward even though Chris knew there was something about his last words that had had some kind of effect on you. He was right, of course, because despite the fact that you’d had hold of this menu for a good couple of minutes already, you hadn’t actually looked at a single thing on it even though you’d made such a show of doing just that and now that Chris had ordered, a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake, the waitress was looking at you expectantly. Unable to form any kind of rational thought under that kind of pressure, you found yourself simply saying “same” and soon enough it was just you and Chris at the table once more.

Chris was looking at you like he had something he wanted to say and the unreadable expression on his face had you feeling somewhat uneasy for reasons you hadn’t quite ascertained but probably understood on some level if you let yourself think about it for more than a second. He could feel the nervous energy radiating from you though and so rather than pursue his current train of thought, he picked a topic of conversation that was much safer and knew you’d be comfortable with: school.

You talked about your classes and upcoming assignments while he listened intently and you returned the favour while he spoke earnestly about hockey and his own academic workload. It was so easy to settle into a natural rhythm with Chris whenever you talked, as if you’d been having conversations like these for years when in fact it had only been a few months of knowing him and a few weeks of meeting up like this. None of that seemed to really matter though, not when the conversation was good and the chemistry felt right and especially not when it was clear that you were both on the same page when it came to your friendship. There was something else there though, something that was beyond being purely platonic, that much was becoming crystal clear and yet despite the ease in which it was to talk to him about literally anything else, there was something that had you stumbling over the thought of bringing it up.

You were saved from falling down that particular rabbit hole by the reappearance of the waitress, two burgers that were big enough to have your eyes popping out of your head in her hands. Chris chuckled from behind his milkshake at the look of disbelief on your face as your burger was set down in front of you before he reached for the bottle of ketchup between you both. You took the top of your burger bun off, nose immediately wrinkling at the sight of four pickle slices resting on top of the lettuce and tomato.

“Ugh, I forgot to ask for no pickles.”

Chris looked up from where he was squirting ketchup onto his bun, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his face split into a grin.

“You’re not one of those people, are you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you began to pick the offensive green menaces off your food and set them at the edge of your plate. “I like what I like.”

Chris reached across and began to transfer the pickles from your plate to his burger, smiling widely at you as he did so.

“Well, I might have found a solution to this particular pickle you find yourself in,” he chuckled at the exaggerated groan and roll of your eyes at the expense of his joke. “You see, I love pickles.”

“You love anything,” you countered. “You’re like a human dumpster.”

“Hurtful,” he replied as he clutched at his chest. “But also true so I’ll allow it.”

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, immediately filled with equal parts surprise and a strange sense of awe as he reflexively moved and caught it in his mouth.

“You really are a dumpster,” you grinned as you shook your head at the proud little smile he was giving you.

“I am, so how about you don’t ask for no pickles on your burgers and you just give ‘em to me instead?”

It was easy to agree to his proposal, not least because his logic actually made a lot of sense when you thought about it, but mostly because of the way his eyes were sparkling and the way his smile made you feel warm all over, like the falling snow and freezing air outside didn’t exist, like your fingers and toes hadn’t been numbed by the biting cold during your walk here, like there had only ever been sunshine. It was also why you’d agreed to let him carry you back through the snow to your dorm, his large hands hooked around the backs of your thighs and your arms draped over his shoulders much like during the walk to the diner. You’d protested initially, of course, not wanting to burden Chris or put you both at risk of an injury due to the slippery conditions, but he wasn’t about to be convinced otherwise and remained unperturbed by the weather, gently reminding you that he had in fact got you to the diner in one piece in the first instance at your objections.

Truthfully, despite the mild embarrassment you felt at your complete ineptitude when it came to walking on ice, you couldn’t help but be more than a little impressed at Chris’s sheer strength. You wondered then, about how hard he must work in the gym to develop such a strong core because while you knew from first-hand experience how slippery it was underfoot, he didn’t falter once throughout the entire walk home and with the way he was talking amiably about his favourite places in the city he called home, and how his hands were holding your legs so surely and securely, you felt safe as houses with your chest pressed into his back – even with your thick coats and layers of winter clothing between you.

He walked with you on his back right up to the entrance of your dorm, setting you down carefully on the pathway that looked to have been newly shovelled before he turned to face you, his cheeks once again ruddy from the cold and your walk home.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ twice in one day,” he grinned, sucking air in through his teeth and shaking his head slightly. “But didn’t I say that I’d get you home safely?”

“So what if you were right twice?” you rebutted with a playful nudge. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen again.”

“Watch it, Pickle. I’ll have you know that I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Pickle?” you barked out a laugh, watching as Chris walked slowly backwards down the path away from you with that smile still on his face. “What kind of a name is that? I don’t even like pickles.”

“I know,” he called out into the growing distance between you both. “But I do, remember?”

You shook your head at him, chuckling to yourself with a smile on your lips that mirrored his as you watched him.

“See ya Tuesday then, Trash Can!” you hollered.

His raucous cackle cut through the silent flurry as he continued to walk slowly backwards, his grin clear as day even through the falling snowflakes.

“Trash Can! Fucking, Trash Can! Man, you got some serious chirps, Pickle. Can you throw hands too? I mean, I know you suck at keeping your balance on the ice but we could use an enforcer! I could push you around?”

“Anytime, anywhere!” you laughed, watching him with a grin until he had waved his goodbye and turned away before he retreated into the heavy snow.

Part ii

[breezymichelle99]

Me when I write fan fiction 😂😂🤷🏽‍♀️

[korpisalos]

Rangers!

is my favourite? Chris Kreider :)))))))

i like the most when it comes to the appearance? Hank

i would play a prank on? Hayesy 

i would get drunk with? Haysey 

i would choose for my partner if i got an invitation for a wedding? Brady bc he would make everyone jealous of me bc he’s gorg 

i could just cuddle all day long? Mika 

i would ask for an advice if i had problems? Hank

i would bake cookies for? Zucc!

i would read a fanfic about? Kreids and/or Mika 

i would write a fanfic about? Kreids and/or Mika lol :))

i would prefer to play in another team? No one lmao I don’t want to let go of any of them :///

thank you :)))))

[laurenairay]

Congrats on 1.2K. Also don’t worry about your Matty T. story. It was amazing and it’s summer so people probably aren’t on here as much. I loved it tho!’! Can I request “You shouldn’t be here.” “I had to make sure you were okay.” With Chris Kreider

Thank you anon, that’s so sweet of you! I love that you chose Kreids for this one, so I’m also tagging my girl @tippedbykreider to share the love.

“You shouldn’t be here.” “I had to make sure you were okay.”

Words: 1.2k

*

The last thing you expected on your third day of having the flu was to open your front door and see your ex-boyfriend standing there, smiling awkwardly.

“Chris? What are you doing here?” you croaked, confused.

“I heard you had the flu from Irma,” he said, shrugging a little sheepishly, “And I had nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You sighed, running a hand through your greasy hair. Yeah this wasn’t exactly how you pictured yourself seeing him again, not when you looked this rough, but you were still weak for his sweet smile and earnest eyes – and before you knew it, you’d let him walk past you and shut the door behind him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, kicking his shoes off.

Polite, as always. Not that you expected anything else – it hadn’t been that long since you’d broken up with him, after all.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said eventually, leaning against the wall as casually as you could while you felt like death warmed up.

“I had to make sure you were okay,” Chris said firmly.

“I broke up with you six weeks ago – why do you care?” you said softly, not understanding.

“I have never stopped caring about you,” Chris said fiercely, his words making tears spring to your eyes without your permission, “I know your flatmates are out of town, at that convention you mentioned, and I hated the thought of you being alone while you’re sick.”

“Chris, come on…” you groaned.

You already knew he was the sweetest man alive, you didn’t need the reminder that you’d lost him like the idiot you were.

Chris just tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth, before sighing. “Look, I can’t stop myself from caring about you, okay? Even if you don’t want me around,” he said, smiling sadly, “But I’m hoping by the fact that you actually opened your front door and let me in, that you want me to care?”

The hope in his voice made you want to curl up into a ball and cry – you didn’t deserve him caring, not like this.

“I’m too vertical for this conversation,” you sighed.

He watched you walk away, confused, until you sat down on the armchair in the living room, and you heard him laugh softly before his soft footsteps followed you into the room. You stayed silent as he sat down on the sofa, as close to you as possible, your heart aching as he turned that warm smile back on your again. It was almost too much, seeing him again like that, when you were so overwhelmed and exhausted. Maybe it had been a mistake letting him into your home. Maybe you should have just shut the door in his face, protected your heart from him like you’d tried to do six weeks ago.

“Do you miss me?” he said suddenly.

What the hell?

“What kind of question is that?” you asked, your heart pounding.

“It’s a question I want an answer to,” he said simply, shrugging.

“It’s not cute to be an asshole, you know,” you muttered.

“It’s not cute to avoid what I asked,” he shot back, smiling softly.

He always did know how to win you over with words.

“Chris, I have the flu, why are you asking me this now?” you asked, pursing your lips.

He hesitated slightly, before sighing. “Because I don’t think you’d answer me honestly otherwise.”

Ouch. As always, he probably wasn’t wrong though.

“Yeah, I miss you. Happy now?” you said dryly.

“Not really,” he shrugged.

You looked upwards, praying for strength, glaring at Chris’s amused expression when you returned your gaze to him. What was wrong with him?

“Then why did you ask me in the first place?”

“Because if you miss me as much as I miss you, then it meant that I definitely was wrong to let you walk away,” he said simply.

The sadness in his eyes curbed the sharpness sitting on the edge of your tongue, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the sharp pang of regret that rang through your body. There was no point in lying to him, there never had been – it was why you’d broken up with him, and he knew it.

“Missing you doesn’t change the fact that we weren’t working, Chris. You were never home. I never felt good enough. It was exhausting hearing rumours about you and other girls, even if I knew they weren’t true. Our relationship was amazing, but it doesn’t change the fact that there were just so much that didn’t work,” you said softly.

Chris swallowed heavily, pain flashing across his face before he shook his head. “Those are all things we can work through, I know it is.”

You just smiled sadly at him, shaking your head in turn. “We tried, remember? We tried for weeks and it didn’t change a thing.”

“Maybe we didn’t try hard enough,” he murmured.

The look in his eyes made your heart start to race a little, your breath to hitch in your throat. You knew that look well – determined, focused, intense. It was the look Chris wore when he had set his heart on something he wanted, and it only made your heart ache even more.

“I know things didn’t work out with us the first-time round. You were scared to let yourself go, to be fully open with me, and I held myself back from telling you exactly how much I love you every day when I should’ve been honest and vulnerable. I should’ve told you that when you broke up with me, but I’m telling you now.”

Your lips parted in shock at his words, rendering you uncharacteristically speechless, and it gave Chris the opportunity to move to kneel on the rug in front of your feet, and take your hands in his.

“Give me another chance, please. I know we can be so good together, if you’ll only let us try,” he murmured.

The sincerity in his voice, the earnestness in his eyes, it was almost too much.

“Did you have to do this while I’m sick?” you asked, choking out a laugh.

Chris laughed too, although his was filled with relief, and hope. “I’ll come back every day if I have to, until you’re back to feeling 100%, if you want me to.”

There was the man you fell in love with, at your feet, begging you to let him back into your life. How could you say no to that?

“I’m not agreeing to anything while I have the flu, Chris. It wouldn’t be right,” you said firmly.

Chris just grinned. “But you’ll think about it? You’ll think about us?”

You already knew what your answer would be. But it wouldn’t be fair to you, to him, if you started things over again now. No, you had to do the right thing, for the both of you.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” you nodded, smiling softly.

This was the last thing you’d expected to happen today, but it was by far the best thing.

“I’ll make you some soup, and then I’ll head out, okay?” he murmured.

That sweet, sweet man.

“You really don’t have to,” you mused.

He just shrugged, standing up from the sofa. “I know, but I want to. Even if you’re not mine again yet, I still want to show you how much I love you,” he said simply.

What a man indeed.

[manchot1988]

2093 Drabbles - Aftermath - Part 4 (Kreider/Zibanejad Fic)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39651339/chapters/99861387

relevant links to this chapter:

Mika's tweet - https://twitter.com/MikaZibanejad/status/1540293318365614085?s=20&t=YRyA3L7GanBPzXXE56uoxQ

Chris's wrist surgery - https://twitter.com/NYRangers/status/1540394374961549314?s=20&t=CJgO97bmrXs9jEoXViONyA

“Really, Mika?” asked Chris on facetime.

“What? You thought it too.. You were bitching at me on the phone for hours when it first came out and we weren't on it. It's a good thing you don't use twitter anymore or you’d have tweeted worse, especially since you’re on pain meds”, replied Mika

On the screen, Chris gives him a bitch face and says, “Ehh, maybe..I might switch to regular tylenol tonight. The wrist doesn’t seem so bad today..”

“It doesn’t seem so bad right now because you’re on the good stuff.. You’ll feel it even more if you switch to over the counter shit.”, says Mika. “It’s off season. You don’t need to rush the recovery..”

It really was unfortunate timing that Chris’s surgery had to happen when it did. The surgeon didn’t have another opening until August and by then, Chris’s recovery would bleed into training camp and potentially pre-season so the Ranger’s medical team jumped on it and Chris right away. Chris would also have to deal with wrist pain for that long if they pushed it and Mika wasn’t happy with that thought. In the end, they had to scrap the plans for traveling to Sweden together - Mika would go first so he could celebrate midsummer with his family and Chris would follow in two weeks after giving his wrist some time to recover and get stable.

Chris sighs, “It’s not that.. It’s just that the stuff they gave me makes me loopy and if I’m loopy, they won’t let me travel. If I had thought of it earlier, I could have probably been with you on midsummer instead of being stuck here in New York.”

“You’d have been miserable and in a lot of pain on the plane, Chris. I wouldn’t have let you do it. It was too soon after your surgery and hey, you’ll be flying here soon. It’s just a couple more days so follow the post-surgery instructions and I’ll see you soon”, says Mika.

“I know.. I just miss hanging out, that’s all.. New York doesn’t feel the same without you.”, says Chris softly as if he’s not sure if he should be saying those words out loud.

On the other side of the screen, Chris can see Mika’s face break into a soft smile and the knot in his chest unravels a little. “I know what you mean”, he hears Mika say, “Everyone says I’m moping since you’re not here. They’re all really excited to see you by the way. Nikki is already demanding to ride on your shoulders again since you’re the tallest one among us and Knox wants a ride too.”

“I can’t wait to see them. It’s been too long, Knox looks so big now in the pics you sent. Oh, should I bring them anything? I have time to shop around for something or get it delivered.”, asks Chris as he yawns and carefully stretches out on his couch, mindful of his wrist.

On the screen, Mika gives him a pointed look. “Chris, half the shit I brought back with me in my suitcases were stuff you bought for my whole family. That’s more than enough. You’re spoiling them worse than I am and that’s saying something.”

Chris chuckles, “Well, if they're covered, how about you then? Should I bring you anything?”, teases Chris.

“Just you. You're all I need”, replies Mika.