#dad!erik johnson | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holy-puckslibrary · 1 year ago

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— 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬.

pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x ex-nanny!wife!reader (established); REESE JOHNSON (oc) x ex-nanny!stepmom!reader (platonic / familial)

wc — 4.7k synopsis — family weekend forces reese’s worlds to collide. results are… mixed note — i just really love reese. that's it :) and how dilfy does mr johnson look in that gif good lord

the nanny (series masterlist) | main masterlist

content warnings under the cut.

cw — age gap relationship (erik and the reader, established), vulgar college boys with no respect, busy-bodies who cannot mind their own beeswax, possessive!erik, pregnant!reader (not discussed in detail), sweet bby reese in peril :(

REESE JOHNSON has a problem.

It’s the sort of anxiety-trodden predicament that could’ve been soothed into nothingness had he spoken up sooner. He didn’t because he couldn’t. That was part of the problem.

And now it’s too late—for solutions or comfort.

The teen, now a second-semester freshman at the University of Denver, had long since adjusted to the heightened scrutiny of his family in the early days of your relationship with his father. Everyone online had to throw in their two cents on the “illicit affair.” Even people who didn’t give a shit about hockey (evidenced by their inability to name a single team) felt they had a right to weasel their way in. While irritating and uncomfortable, the harsh reads didn’t bother him for too long because Reese knew the truth.

He also knew how unnecessarily ruthless people could be when they had a screen to hide behind. The son of a prominent figure in professional sports, Reese knew people stared at him through a very particular lens. It veered toward a rosy sheen every so often, but mostly it was smudged glass. Like a fish tank whose walls were muddy with the greasy impressions spectators left behind. Strangers offering commentary on his father’s life, and by extension his too, was part of the gig.

Frankly, the aftermath wasn’t much different than before. Only the subject matter changed. If it wasn’t thinly veiled insults about Erik’s waning career or his prior inability to keep a girlfriend, it was overly critical evaluations of Reese’s prowess or lack thereof and, unsurprisingly, comparisons between father and son. Without fail, the verbiage and tone implied competition, hinting that their healthy bond was only a bit of showmanship to hide the rocky resentment beneath.

This weekend is different. Sure, his teammates and friends had already gotten ample face-time with both of his parents, as well as his kid sister, but never all at once. Though they all did their best to coordinate, busy schedules rendered a revolving cheering section for Reese Johnson.

This weekend—family weekend—will change that. By some stroke of luck (or a cruel twist of fate, the jury's still out on that one), everyone would be here… together. And that’s not to say he isn’t grateful for their effort or that he isn’t excited because he is. Reese is thrilled to share this new slice of life with his loved ones. It’s just that…

Reese knows how it looks when they venture out into the world.

Not that his dad is exactly old or even old-looking. In the same way you aren’t questionably young. Still, the age difference is noticeable. Before you were more than a nanny to the Johnsons (if you were ever just a nanny to begin with), it was easier for on-lookers to assess the dynamic, and still, albeit seldomly, they would drum up gossip. Things got remarkably more awkward, though, after his father finally plucked up the courage to propose, and increased tenfold once Erik had a gold band to match. It was as if the wedding ushered in the open season on Johnsons.

More times than he cared to count, Reese found himself cupping Josie’s ears to keep his little sister from hearing jeering crowds calling their dad an old pervert and you a shameless gold-digger. No one’s had to explain what a “sugar daddy” is (or why it's the first thing that auto-populates when you plug ‘Erik Johnson’ into Google), but the burden would’ve fallen on Reese if he hadn’t left her in the car while he ran in to grab a takeout order last summer.

But Erik’s eldest isn’t just worried about his family existing outside the warmth and safety of their insulated bubble. His sleepless nights are filled with fear. Fear of the pain and sadness he’ll undoubtedly feel about it all now that he sees you less as his friend and more as a maternal figure.

Reese’s always been protective; it's led to many a fight with his own father and, sometimes, his own sister. He’s the first to rush to your aid and the strongest force in your defense. The habit, however, strengthened when his perspective shifted as swiftly as flipping a switch.

Suddenly, you weren’t just his dad’s girlfriend or the person who made him pancakes in the morning. Or the savior who dropped off his English paper because he was in such a hurry he left it on the printer. You were a confidant, someone he called for when he was in a bad spot or when he wanted to see the latest mind-numbingly bad action flick. When he asked his date to prom, it was you he wanted help from. When Reese was sick, your home remedies worked better than anything store-bought or concocted by his dad. When practice ran over, he could count on you to wait up with his dinner hot and ready, the rest of the house already fast asleep.

For the first time since he could remember, the Dad-shaped gap wasn’t devastating. It hurt like a bitch, but it was bearable because he had another adult—another parent—he could rely on. In every sense of the word, you were his mom.

And no one wants to hear disgusting lies about their mom.

However, Reese hasn’t called you that yet. At least, not to your face. In passing to his childhood friends or when referring to you with Josie, sure, and once or twice over the phone with Erik, but when he calls for you, he uses your first name like he's still your “nanny-kid.” But it's not for a lack of trying. It’s just that every time he thinks he’s worked up the nerve, the three letters catch in his throat like molasses, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

Moments like those are the rare few he wishes he were Josie instead of himself. His jovial spitfire of a sister never missed a chance. During her lunch block with classmates, on the phone with their extended family, to strangers at Avs games, or on the sidewalk, the moniker slipped off Josie Johnson’s tongue like water down a slide. Their dad liked to poke fun, warning her to be careful so as not to wear it out from overuse.

Maybe it was the sister snuggled in your stomach that tightened his throat. The baby that could and would call you “Mom” with little effort beyond mastering the string of sound. The baby that would grow up not knowing you as anything besides her mother. It was a shade of ownership Reese felt hesitant to touch. No matter how desperately he yearned to.

The closest he’s come is penning in the title beneath your name on the lanyard that’ll hang from your neck for upcoming festivities. It was a small gesture. Still, it felt like too much and not enough all at once.

Reese is caught between wanting to honor the bond and all you’ve done with the accurate label and the fear of explicitly acknowledging it stirs in his chest. At least in this limbo of sorts, as cumbersome as it's become, Reese can have what he’s always wanted and keep you in his life without risking capsizing the boat with an awkward declaration. It’s an uneasy compromise, but it's the devil he knows. At least he knows what and when to feed it.

Reese hates that he’s letting his worries dictate his life. It's just… hard. No one tells kids how to navigate gaining a new parent or any of the baggage that unique situation carries. No one tells kids how to trust the position’s new occupant not to follow in their predecessor’s footsteps. In his heart, Reese knows you won’t run. But knowing that doesn’t shut down the nagging voice in the back of his mind. The one that drones on like a broken record, telling him that the burden of the word, knotted with his expectations, will be his family’s unraveling.

He couldn’t do that to Josie. To his dad. Or to you and the little sister you’re carrying.

So, he’ll stomach it. For how long, Reese isn’t sure. But, for now, he’ll stand on the outskirts of the minefield, bidding time.

"Johnson! Your whole family's coming, right?" Kody, a junior defenseman from Fort Collins, yanks Reese from his downward spiral.

The last place he wants to be right now is out in the world. The last thing he needs is to cannonball himself back into the fishbowl. Even if the phantom audience never spoke to him, sometimes their heavy attention pushing into his back was enough to send Reese reeling.

But he made a promise to make more of an effort. To be more social, to have more fun—to take life a little less seriously.

In his mind, if he was at school to learn and play hockey, there was little room to wiggle. Sure, Reese has had his fair share of adolescent recklessness and could lean toward boyish immaturity at times, but at his core, he was a rule-follower. A responsibility fiend with a penchant for playing the white knight. A stickler for structure. When given the choice between a teenage dream and a full-grown reality, the freshman chose the latter nine times out of ten.

Reese Johnson’s moral compass weighs down his back pocket; he feels most at peace when things fit neatly into their proper boxes. Good and bad, black and white. One or the other, never both.

Stress and anxiety exacerbate his mental rigidity. And he’s been so fucking far from zen lately.

Reese would’ve broken the stupid promise if it’d been made to anyone besides you. So, when a few of the upperclassmen on the team appeared at his dorm with an invitation to get pizza, he begrudgingly accepted.

It isn’t so bad. Far from awful this far. Definitely not the worst way to spend an evening. His teammates were alright enough guys, and their girlfriends weren’t as callous as he’d expected. Reese just found it hard to connect with them, a situation that couldn’t be more different than his previous team experience.

With his childhood friends, it all clicked. Fell into place without much real effort from any of them. There was an awkward period, but it ended within the first month and, honestly, had more to do with prepubescent cringe than anything.

An entire semester came and went, and Reese still felt like an outsider. When he looked out onto the ice, he saw a sea of strangers. They had different interests, different priorities. Inside jokes he wasn’t in on. Ones he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in on. Even their sense of decorum was foreign. He was well-acquainted with profanity and vulgar jibes, but Reese’s neck still occasionally heats at their… colorful chirps.

But maybe this will be a good step, Reese thinks to himself as he clears the nerves from his throat, making room for an answer to Kody’s question.

“Uh, yeah. My parents and my little sister,” he nods. The blip of quiet that follows coaxes out further details. “They’re going to skip the mixer-campout thing tomorrow night because of the baby, but they’ll be at the student fair and our scrimmage the next day.”

It feels odd to talk about his family. The words, somehow both intensely personal and casual at the same time, taste funny on his tongue. Reese’s stomach clenches, suddenly too aware that he’s never really had to do this before, the small talk. Back home, everyone knows everyone. There’s little to talk about by way of mundane facts because there’s no need; it would be incredibly redundant. His friends from home wouldn’t think to ask if his family was coming, nor would they nudge him to share their schedule. They’d just know.

Reese is aware that this is a silly thing to get worked up over, or even care about at all. He knows it’s part of the process. Part of making new friends is letting them know you. Telling them about yourself and your life, and all the people in your life. Especially the ones you love. Offering up bits of yourself in exchange for bits of them. Still, it's unsettling. Like he’s inviting a group of strangers to pass judgment on his unconventional family.

No one’s said anything, but Reese already feels defensive.

And rightly so, he’d soon find.

"That was quick."

Lane, a senior forward from some beach town in California, draws first blood. The quip seems innocuous, but the shit-eating grin undermines any plausible deniability. Even without his smug expression, they probably would’ve understood the implication lurking below the surface anyway.

It isn’t the isolated comment that burns the tips of Reese’s ears. It’s the fact that he’s never spoken about the circumstances or the timeline of your relationship with his father. Reese hasn’t tried to hide anything, but he certainly hasn’t been forthcoming either. For all they knew, you could’ve been Josie’s biological mother. A long shot, but feasible enough if you didn't know any better.

But somehow, this kid from out of state knew. Knew that, by “traditional” standards, it was a little soon for his parents to be welcoming a new life.

"Can you blame him? Hot young thing at your beck and call?” Kent, a sophomore from outside of Toronto, cuts in before Reese can.

The lecherous glint in the winger’s tone makes his skin crawl. He doesn’t need to look up from his half-eaten slice of Hawaiian to know his mouth matches Lane’s.

“Fuck, dude. I would've knocked her up before she dragged me down the aisle. But, I've heard Viagra massacres your swimmers, so maybe that wasn’t in the cards for Ol’ Johnson.”

The group, crowded around a hodgepodge of tables, descends into a fit of snickers and profanity.

Reese contemplates leaving until a manicured hand gently squeezes his arm. Callahan Graham blinks up at him, a sweet smile tight on her rosy mouth. Callahan “Callie” Graham, Lane’s on-again-off-again girlfriend of three years. They’re “off” right now, if he’s remembering correctly. Not that it matters. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Reese’s chin dips in gratitude.

From across the table, Callie’s roommate, Greer, pipes up over the commotion. “I hope I'm as cute as she is when I'm pregnant."

"Me too," Bree, one of the other girlfriends, sighs dreamily into her Diet Coke. "I couldn't believe how pretty she looked the last time she brought Josie to watch you play, Reese. If I was pregnant and holding down a two-kid fort by all by myself for most of the year, I know I'd look it. But I guess that’s just another perk of true love, isn’t it? Beauty in spite of it all.”

Kent snorts. “True love…right.”

Reese’s molars pinch together. Beneath the table, he picks at his nails. It hurts, but it's the distraction he needs right now.

"It's not like being a trophy wife is a real job anyway, so I'm sure that helps. Just lie back and spread those pretty—"

Reese’s fist finishes Lane’s sentence. As badly as he wants to put it through the douchebag’s face, he (thankfully) had the foresight to direct his anger downward. It was the succinct thwack! of his hand against the table that cut the lewd thought off prematurely.

Reese is a striking juxtaposition; hardened jaw, sharp eyes, pinched mouth—silent. Only his chest moves. Shallowly, the accent on the exhalations.

For a moment, everything is still. It’s nice. While it lasts.

Kody is the one to crack the ill-fated stalemate. Trepidation peeking through the tiny cracks in his smooth confidence, he approaches like a hunter would an agitated deer, “Loosen up, Reese. We're just having fun. And, if anything, it's a compliment."

Reese openly glares, unconvinced.

Kody persists, deadset on being the one to subdue the beast. “Come on, even you have to admit your dad's locked down a fuckin’ tenner. A real win for Team Geriatric, I’d say. You should be proud of him, kid.”

This isn’t the first time someone’s prodded Reese about your physical appearance. He wasn’t blind. He knew you were attractive, but you’d never entered that part of his brain before. Ever. It's as if his subconscious preemptively locked you away in the same box as his dad and kid sister, or any other family member. But they weren’t asking if he thought you were pretty, not really.

The omnipresent “They” wanted to know if he thought you were attractive the way he thought Pedro Pascal or Olivia Rodrigo was attractive. They wanted to know if he felt the way his dad felt about you. They’re probing for a twisted scandal, a sick taboo love triangle. As if they weren’t already gorging themselves on the age difference or the boss/employee origin story.

They wanted more. They always wanted more. They wanted to take one of the best parts about Reese’s life and fuck it up.

His teammates are proving themselves no different than the losers populating Twitter.

“She ever read to you a story before bed?” Lane again.

Then Kent, in quick succession. “Tuck you in nice and tight, and come running when you had a nightmare?”

There’s barely enough time between the two to squeeze in a meager answer. Though Reese surmises that’s by design.

Innuendos are funnier when they have a single target in the audience to fly over. At least, to people with cheap senses of humor. Easy laughs are no accomplishment when they weaponize the feelings of an innocent bystander. Even in his anger, Reese wouldn’t have humored them with a doe-eyed reply of feigned ignorance. It wasn't earned.

“If I got to spend all of high school being coddled by a rocket, I'd still be milking that shit. Maybe if you had, she would've fucked you instead of your dad."

Reese’s brow shrinks to a contemptuous pinch. It wouldn’t take much for him to be reacquainted with his dinner; it’s already halfway there.

As he looks over at Kody, he loses what little hope he had that he’d find a place in this friend group. He hasn’t found his people yet, on the team or in general, but Reese is certain they’re not sitting around him tonight.

"How far along's your mom?" Callie seizes the conversation knowingly.

Briefly, her pale eyes slice pointedly in the direction of her… whatever Lane is to her, and then back to Reese, warmth restored.

"Uh, almost seven months? But Josie and I were both late, so Dad thinks we'll have to wait until the end of summer until she's here. Maybe they’ll share a birthday.”

"She?" one of the freshman girls squeals, clutching her companion’s forearm in excitement.

"Yeah," Reese says bashfully, head dipping to conceal the grin tugging the corners of his mouth. The meat of his cheeks ache with joy. “Two sisters."

"I give Johnson Sr. six months before he puts the moves on Nanny 2.0,” Lane’s whisper pierces the lukewarm calm that settled the table at his… Callie’s hand.

She kicks his shin. Hard.

"You really think the old timer's game is that reliable?" Kent picks up the slack between open-mouth chews.

And Kody is not far behind, “He's decently famous and moderately rich. That was enough the first time, so why wouldn't it work for the second? Or, Junior, maybe this next one can be yours—if you pull your head out of your ass in time, that is."

Reese is done. Has met—no, exceeded his limit. He doesn’t have to sit here and take this. Yeah, it would be better for the locker-room culture if he stuck around, but a boost in morale wasn’t worth the decimation of his pride.

His goodbye is simple but effective. The deafening screeeeech! of his chair sliding back on the linoleum.

The sidewalk is blurry beneath his feet as he trudges back to safety. Whether it's the tears’ fault or how quickly he’s running, Reese can’t be sure. All he knows is that he needs to be as far away from them as possible.

He needs… he needs…

Reese’s fingers tremble defiantly while he fishes for his phone. He continues to fight with them, shoving his key into the door and pushing it open with the other as he scrolls through the call log. He slams the world out and hits the green icon.

“Reese? Are you okay?” your groggy, but no less sweet voice flits through his phone.

Only two rings.

Reese’s shoulders melt, comforted by the familiar warmth of what home sounds like. But his mouth remains frozen, stuck.

You allow a few beats of silence to lapse, giving him ample space to answer if he is able and wants to before speaking again. “Do we need to come up tonight?”

He blinks, attempting to wash away the salty film over his eyes to read the clock above his desk. 1:37 AM, the angry red letters read.

Guilt seeps into the mix of nasty emotions monopolizing his body. The acidic cocktail begins its ascent of his tender throat.

You shouldn’t be up right now. Not this late, not when his sister’s made you an insomniac for so much of your pregnancy. Not because someone was mean to him.

Reese feels like an asshole. An inconsiderate asshole bothering you with his problems in the middle of the night, knowing you’re already sacrificing your weekend for him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for waking you and the baby, and probably Dad, too. I—It's nothing, really. It can wait. We can talk about it when it's not, y’know, the middle of the night.”

“Reese, no one sets off the alarm on my Bullshit Radar faster than you do. You wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t urgent. Talk to me, Reeses Pieces. You know I won’t be able to go back to sleep knowing you’re not alright.”

Reeses Pieces. The nickname, said with such casual affection, is like a magic wand.

“Uh— I-I, um… I had a, um, a r-really bad night… and I— and I just really needed to hear y-your voice, Mom.”

It slips out. Slips free. It just… slips into the mix with all the other words like it belongs there, too. And it does. It feels right. Reese feels a twinge of satisfaction. Regardless of the circumstances (and the night he’s had), it happened.

It finally happened.

The floor crumbles a little and gentle flames lick at Reese’s cheeks. His phone feels as though it's floating up and away from his clammy palm. He’s telling his fingers to tighten their grip, to hold on. They hesitate, and when they finally decide to obey, it only makes matters worse. He fumbles, nearly dropping his phone to the floor. The elephant easing down onto his chest is making it hard to focus, to think, to listen.

“Reese? Did I lose you, bub?”

He blinks himself out of the daze. “Hmm? No, I—I, sorry. I’m here.”

“Oh, Reesey. I was just saying I was glad you called then. I mean, I always love it when you call. Even when it’s to tell me you sent your Airpods through the washing machine. Again.”

Reese barks out a phlegmy laugh.

Note to self: the rice hack only works the first time you let your electronics go for a swim.

Second note to self: this reaction—this non-reaction is better than any teary blubbering or callous rejection. Normalcy doesn’t require a reaction.

“You can always, always call me. Especially when you’re having a rough time. Even when it's the middle of the night. My main priority in life is making sure you’re safe and happy, you and JoJo. And the peanut sitting on my bladder. And the 6’4 blanket-hog snoring like a hacksaw beside me.”

“Maybe we should get Dad a sleep study coupon for his birthday,” Reese teases.

He feels better now. You, and finally being courageous enough to be vulnerable, was the medicine. Reese feels lighter than he has since you dropped him off in September.

You snort. “I’ll gladly pay to see your dad covered in wires. But, as much as I love laughing at his expense when he’s none-the-wiser, that's not why you called. Spill it.”

He does. The spiel tumbles out like an overdue avalanche, and Reese hardly realizes how quickly he’d been talking until he finishes with burning lungs. You listened patiently, letting him get it all out without interruption. You were good about that, knowing when someone needed room to rant more than they needed interjections with guidance or commentary. Reese usually fell in the first category, tonight being no exception.

“…I just don’t get why they found it so funny. Or why they even thought to say it in the first place. It's so...gross.”

He listens to you sigh and knows you’re doing it through your teeth. You’re probably massaging the waves of frustration between your eyebrows, nose scrunched. Josie calls it your ‘Dragon Face’ because of the way frustration contorts your features, but Reese adopted the term into his own lexicon because it almost always appeared when someone threatened the safety of your family. Like him, you’re generous with your protection. Fierce without delay.

“Because you aren’t them, Reese. You’ve always had a strong sense of right and wrong, respectful and not. And you’re rarely swept up by group-think, if ever. Those things may feel like a curse right now, but I promise they’ll be superpowers one day.”

“I wish I could fast-forward to that day. This sucks,” he groans, tossing himself backward onto his twin bed.

“It does suck. Majorly. Still, even if you had time travel in your vast arsenal of powers, I’d tell you to stay put, Reese. Part of college is learning how to deal with immature people, building up a tolerance for their bullshit as you grow stronger and more confident in yourself.”

“But I’m not strong. I ran away crying like a little baby,” Reese croaks into his pillow. A warm saltiness tickles his eyelashes.

“You removed yourself from a bad situation, and you let yourself feel your feelings in the present tense. Those are both huge wins in my book,” you counter.

Your voice is louder now, stronger. Like coaxing Reese—coaxing your son out of a pit of self-pity breathed all the energy you lacked for the better part of a year back into you. The subtle shift whittles away some of his earlier guilt.

“It takes guts to do that, Reese. Most people spend years trying to learn what you did instinctively. Some people never learn to do it at all. And don’t tell anyone, but I’d put money on Kody, Lane, and Kent being some people.”

Reese snorts. “I know you’re right, but I think what’s actually bugging me is that you guys’ll be subjected to that shit this weekend. It’s one thing for them to say it to me, but it’s another to say it to you or in front of JoJo. I hate that people care so much about us and our business that they can’t keep their mouths shut. If you don’t feel comfortable coming now, I would totally understand. Fuck, if I were you, I’d never visit again. Maybe I could come home this weekend instead?”

“Reese, as sweet as that is, the only thing that’ll stop me from coming this weekend is early labor, not chauvinist pigs.”

“You shouldn’t even have to hear it, though. And besides, won’t smiting college kids stress the baby out?” Reese asks, worry tearing through his voice despite the lighter tone.

“Do you honestly think your dad will let them get more than a couple words out?” you ask through an airy chuckle.

For the second time tonight, someone else speaks before Reese can.

Erik’s voice is muffled and gravelly, but the protective bite—the very same one that took hold of Reese at dinner and you just moments ago—is loud, “They’ll keep their mouths shut if they want to keep whatever teeth they have left.”

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ilyasorokinn · 5 months ago

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a change would do you good , erik johnson

note, ej signing with a different team is old news atp but I didn't finish this fast enough last year. this was at first supposed to go up after the trade, then I didn't make it so I decided, more recently, what better time than his 1000 game milestone, and that didn't work... so now it's here! and it's so late! but what else is new right? another note, i was inspired to add one scene after seeing this video of sharkie with erik karlsson's kid. check it out if you want, it's cute. last note, this fic is part of the "life with the johnsons" series, so check out this masterlist for more. pair, erik johnson x reader summary, after 13 years, all good things must come to an end. warnings, kids/children, pain and sadness (it's sad in the beginning but it gets happier towards the end) word count, 1908 words

(gif not mine)

January 2023, 7 months till UFA

You knew your husband well enough to know something was wrong. You could sense it. So, after you had tag-teamed bedtime, you found him sitting alone in your room.

"What's your deal?" You asked, making your way into the closet to change.

"What do you mean?" He asked, slipping a bookmark into the book he was reading so he could give you his full attention.

"I mean you've been acting weird all day, so spill." You plopped down next to him, looking up at him and waiting for him to answer your question. He opened his mouth, ready to give an answer but stopped, "What?" You pushed.

"What would you think about a move?"

"Like houses? I mean, I like this one. It's big enough for us and the backyard is-"

"No, not houses. States. Countries."

"Like, during off-season?" You were now even more confused than before.

"No, during the season." Your eyes widened as you finally understood what he was saying, "I'm a Free Agent after this season."

"They're not gonna sign you?"

"No, they do. I don't want to." He shook his head.

"You want to leave Colorado?" You were shocked at the words coming out of your mouth.

"13 seasons is a lot." He told you simply.

"You love Colorado." You didn't even know if the words you were saying were English.

"I do." He nodded, "It's time." Was all he said then turning off his light, a non-verbal way of telling you he didn't want to keep talking, so you respected it and turned off your lamp.

The next night, you were in the same position. You were getting ready for bed, the same topic from the night before had been floating around your head the entire time.

"Erik..." You called out. He turned to look at you from his sink through the mirror, "Can we at least talk about it? Do I get a say?"

"Of course." He nodded.

"What if I want to stay? My life is here, our friends are here!" You reminded him, slamming the tube of toothpaste on the counter.

"Okay, hey." He reached over, putting his hand on top of yours, "I know everyone we know is here, but don't you feel it? It's time." He nodded.

You looked up at him and could see the sincerity in his eyes, the longing behind them, "I need time." You told him, turning away from him and continuing to get ready for bed, unsure if you would even get sleep that night because your mind would be reeling with the fact that Erik was unhappy where he was.

A few days later, you and Erik finally sat down to finally talk things out. There were tears (from both parties), and after much arguing and weighing the pros and cons, you finally agreed.

It wasn't an easy decision. You were more worried about how Lila, Zach, and Ivy would take it. They had been born and had spent their whole lives in Colorado, so you were worried.

You wrangled the three of them into the living room and sat them down. Lila, ever so smart for her age, knew something was wrong. She had woken up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water and heard you talking at night once.

She didn't quite understand what you were talking about, but the tone of the conversation was enough for her to realize that something was wrong.

"We wanted to talk to you three about something." You started, subconsciously spinning your ring on your finger, a nervous habit of yours.

"It's something big." Erik continued, taking a breath as he tried to gather his thoughts, "So, you know how we live here because I play sticks here?"

"Yeah." The three of them nodded.

"Well, after this season, I'm going to sign with another team." You watched with bated breath, each of their reactions. Ivy seemed to get it the quickest.

"We're moving away?" She asked, tears filling her eyes.

"After this season, yes." Erik nodded, his shoulders sagging at their reactions.

"I don't wanna move." Ivy was the first to start crying, and it set off a domino effect.

It took you and Erik almost an hour and a half to get the three of them to stop crying. Luckily, they had tired themselves out and ended up falling asleep.

You and Erik found yourselves on the couch, sharing a bottle of wine as you thought about how much change would be happening in the coming months.

"Do you think I'm making the right decision?" He asked, looking over at you.

"I can't answer that for you." You smiled sadly, shaking your head, "All I'll say is before you declare anything, make sure you're really sure about this."

June 2023, 1 month till UFA

Since your first conversation in January, you had talked about Free Agency briefly, and from those conversations, you gathered that Erik was sure about the move.

You talked to everyone. Coaches, Joe Sakic, Jared Bednar, the other members of the Avs organizations, teammates, and everyone else. Erik made sure the first person he told was Gabe because they were brothers.

You invited Melissa and Gabe over for dinner and were almost scared to tell them. In all the time you'd lived in Colorado, you had known the Landeskogs. They were family.

"So, what's with this special dinner?" Gabe asked, raising a brow at both of you as the meal came to a close.

"Well, we have some news." Erik looked over at you, and you gave him a reassuring nod and smile.

"You're pregnant?" Gabe guessed.

"No." You rolled your eyes.

"You know how my contract is up?" Erik began. While Mel still looked a little confused, a look of understanding fell on Gabe's face, and he nodded.

"You're not serious." He shook his head, covering his mouth in shock.

"I'm serious." He nodded.

"EJ..." He breathed out, standing up and pulling his friend into a long hug.

Mel stood up and did the same, coming over and wrapping you in a big hug, "I'm gonna miss my partner in crime." She joked, laughing tearfully.

"Me too." You smiled, squeezing her tighter.

When you gave them each a hug goodbye and shut the door, you turned to Erik, "You doing okay?"

"I don't know." You reached up and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back as he broke down in tears.

"It's okay." You whispered, kissing his head as he fell apart.

August 2023, 1 Month Post Free Agency

Before July 1st, you managed to tell everyone the news. Family, friends, teammates, colleagues, everyone. And they all shared pretty much the same reaction as Gabe and Mel.

For the kids, it took a while for them to really understand what was happening, but they quickly adapted and were excited to move to a new city.

The one thing they were upset about was not being able to see their best friend, Colorado Avalanche mascot, Bernie.

At every home game you could make it to, it was a tradition that you would find Bernie, and the kids would take a picture with him. Fans knew how much the kids loved him, and the team knew how much they loved him.

So, before you were planning to move, you, Erik, and the team put something together. Bernie would come over to your house and give them one last goodbye, and the media team would get some cute content.

The doorbell rang, and you looked up and could see through the window who was outside, "Who's at the door, guys?" You pulled out your phone and started recording, wanting to get their reactions.

"You wanna go see who's at the door?" Erik asked, "I think it's for you." He added. They knew not to answer the door by themselves unless you knew who it was, or you gave them the okay.

The kids looked confused, but the three of them made their way over to the door. They got a peek from through the glass beside the door of who it was and began jumping around, "Bernie!"

Bernie and Trixie were barking and jumping around. Erik quickly caught Ivy before she was toppled over by the dogs. He reached for the door handle, and both dogs rushed out, greeting the much larger dog.

"Bernie!" Lila and Zach ran towards him, giving him a big hug. He hugged them both and held out the presents in his arms for them. He handed each of them a giant rose, which they both clutched to their chest.

"Oh, my gosh!" You gasped, "What do you guys say?"

"Thank you, Bernie!" They both hugged him again. He patted them on the back before standing up and handing Ivy her own giant flower which was practically the same size as her.

"Thank you, Bernie." She giggled, wrapping her arms around the giant dog's neck.

You invited Bernie in, and together, all three kids showed him their playroom, letting him pretend to play with Barbies before they made their way outside to the giant playset.

He went between all three kids and pushed them on the swings, getting winded after going through the three of them in a row. By the end of the day, they were upset to see their favorite mascot go.

"Bye, Bernie." They each gave him one last hug, and Ivy even blew him a kiss like she did to Erik whenever she was up by the glass.

Arriving in Buffalo was no easy feat. Getting all three kids situated, and then getting yourselves situationed was a challenge, but you got it. When you got to Buffalo, you were greeted by Sabretooth, the Sabres' mascot, in the airport. He was holding a sign with all three kids' names on it.

They noticed, and immediately pointed it out when they saw it, "Do you guys remember who that is?" You asked, looking down at Ivy who was resting her head on your shoulder.

"Sabretooth." She answered, nervous as she looked at the mascot. It took some warming up to get used to Bernie, so you knew it would take some time before she got used to the new mascot.

"That's right." Sabretooth flipped the sign over, and it read 'Welcome to Buffalo, Johnsons!'.

"Thank you, Sabretooth." Erik was the first to hug the tiger, which would ease all the kids' nerves. Sabretooth gave him a big hug, before looking to Lila and Zach, who now looked more comfortable.

The twins looked at each other, communicating silently with their twin language, before looking back at the mascot and accepting his hug. Ivy, who now was more comfortable with the giant tiger, wiggled, signaling to you that she wanted to be let down.

You set her down, and she followed after her older siblings and joined in on the hug. Eventually, the three of them were all talking to Sabretooth and telling him all about their plane ride.

You and Erik watched a few steps behind them, and your heart warmed. You looked over at Erik, and wrapped an arm around his waist, "So, how do you feel now?"

"It's gonna take some getting used to." He said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"But, we're gonna make it work. We always do." You reminded him.

"Like we always do." He repeated with a nod.

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sibbycrobby · 2 months ago

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we might be okay❤️

#avs lb #my dads #fathers even #colorado avalanche #erik johnson #gabriel landeskog

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goodnightoilcountry · 1 year ago

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jo's nhl fic rec list !

hi - welcome to my attempt at being a fic writer again. i have a wip list in the works but first things first: my fic rec list of all the works i've found and adored.

if you don't know yet, you will know soon that i am such a sucker for angst. i hope you find something new to love from the list below !

how to navigate

i update this list weekly (try to) and place all the new fic recs at the top under NEW.

when searching for a specific player, they will always be listed under their current team.

* updated saturday 15 march 2025 *

weekly note: the last few weeks i got to really find out how lethal the flu can be! probably for the best bc this fic rec was both an update on the recent fics i've found and loved and a shuffle for players to their new homes. enjoy!!

all summaries outlined have been written by their respective writers. if you do not wish to be featured on this list, please don't hesitate to let me know! this is just an outlet for me to share all my favourite works 🫰🏼

like my selection of fic recs? have a player who's not been featured? let me know and i'll go on a deep dive for you!

NEW

the world never ended (jack hughes) by @leaderwonim summary: y/n and Jack Hughes have been inseparable since childhood, spending every summer at his family’s lake house—until his hockey career takes off and leaves her behind. As Jack’s life moves forward and Y/N tries to do the same, the distance between them grows in ways neither of them expected. But when their paths cross again at a breaking point, they’re forced to confront everything they never said and the feelings that never really went away. word count: 3.8k

the puck-cident (clayton keller) by @captain-huggy-bear summary: You are the unfortunate soul that takes a puck to the face during one of Utah's games, Clayton sees whole thing and demands to be let off the ice. word count: 5.5k

i just had sex with my ex in a new york apartment (nathan mackinnon) by @mattyanonwrites summary: the biggest trade in hockey in years has you texting your ex, something you swore you would never do. but you thought it would be harmless. word count: 7.1k

it ain't me babe part 1 + part 2 (sidney crosby) by @angelsuecult summary: you feel out of place at a wedding with Sidney, left wondering where your relationship is going. word count: 13.3k total

you gotta kiss somebody (sometimes) (matthew tkachuk) by @antoineroussel-archiveword count: 1.8k

double or nothing (quinn hughes) by @sweethischier summary: Falling for a hockey player was risky, but falling for a hockey player your dad coached was an entirely different gamble. word count: 7.4k

so damn needy (quinn hughes) by @sweetestdesire summary: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend. word count: 1.3k

five chances and one kiss (quinn hughes) by @777bae summary: Five times Quinn has the chance to kiss you, and one time he takes that chance. word count: 5.8k

FIC REC MASTERLIST

total number of fics: 208

anaheim ducks fic rec list players: trevor zegras

boston bruins fic rec list players: jeremy swayman

carolina canes fic rec list players: andrei svechnikov - pyotr kotchekov - sebastian aho - seth jarvis - tyson jost

colorado avs fic rec list players: cale makar - erik johnson - jack drury - nathan mackinnon

dallas stars fic rec list players: wyatt johnston

detroit red wings fic rec list players: jt compher

florida panthers fic rec list players: matthew tkachuk

montreal canadiens players: juraj slafkovsky

nashville preds fic rec list players: brady skjei - michael bunting

new jersey devils fic rec list players: jack hughes - luke hughes - nico hischier

new york islanders fic rec list players: mat barzal - matt martin

philadelphia flyers fic rec list players: jamie drysdale

pittsburgh penguins fic rec list players: sidney crosby

toronto maple leafs fic rec list players: auston matthews - matthew knies - mitch marner - william nylander

utah hc fic rec list players: clayton keller

vancouver canucks fic rec list players: arturs silovs - brock boeser - quinn hughes

washington capitals fic rec list players: anthony beauvillier

ALL OUR WONDERFUL WRITERS

thank you to all the incredible fic writers on this godforsaken app ! i am always so in awe of how creative people are and am constantly inspired by your minds ! i can't wait to find more of you on here 🤍

@43-hugs @adoristsposts @austonwithan-o @babydollmarauders @bagopucks @bedsyandco @behoright @bitchinbarzal @blueskrugs @bqstqnbruin @cellythefloshie @chewingcyanide @comphersjost @comphy-and-cozy @doc-pickles @eyesthatroll @fallinallincurls @happer08 @hischierdevils @hischierhoney @hockeyboistrash @hockeywhy @hockey-fics @hockey-hoe-24-7 @holy-pucks @hookingminor @huggybug @hugshughes @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @islesnucks @itsjusthockey @ladylooch @letsgetrowdy43 @marnerparty @matthewtkachuk @mattyanonwrites @matwith1t @mendeshoney @misshoneyimhome @mrsensitive @nhlclover @ohmyeyesmyeyes @pennylanefics @prettytoxicrevolver @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys @silovsmenot @starry-hughes @senditcolton @silverstonesainz-archive @stormsplurge @sunkissed-zegras @sunnyskiesscareme @sydnikov @thatintrovertedwriter @theemporium @thewintersoldierdisaster @undertaurus @unluckyhoneybee @withwritersblock @yelenasdog @youunravelme

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