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spine-buster · 4 years

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the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | epilogue

A/N: Here it is, the end of The Storm Before the Calm. I know it was a short ride, but it was quite the wild one at that! I hope you enjoy. Also, apologies to the native Danish speakers (or any speakers of Scandinavian languages) for the probably-butchered Danish translations here -- Google Translate helped, but I’m sure it’s not the same as the native tongue.

TW: depression, postpartum depression, feelings of helplessness etc.

“Fred! Fred!” Fred was awakened by his name being screamed through the baby monitor perched on Aleida’s bedside table. “Fred please come in here, please. I need you.”

Aleida’s voice sounded desperate. He whipped the covers off his body quickly and began walking towards the nursery where he saw Aleida rocking and bouncing a one-month-old Helena, who was crying. Helena hadn’t been sleeping particularly well since birth, although Fred and Aleida obviously prepared for that. But when Aleida looked up at him, he could see a look of pure helplessness in her eyes. They were red – not from fatigue, either. “Hey, c’mere,” he said softly, extending his arms so he could take Helena from her.

“Why won’t she stop crying? Why can’t I make her stop crying?” Aleida asked with complete strain in her voice.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Fred cooed as he took Helena from Aleida’s arms, delicately balancing her head in his massive hand as he laid her against his chest. “I got her, I got her, just relax.” He began rocking Helena back and forth and almost immediately, Helena calmed down and stopped crying. He began kissing the top of her head delicately. “Theeeere we go, Helena. Theeere we go.”

Aleida looked helpless as she watched Helena – her baby, the baby she carried for nine months – calm down for her husband. It wasn’t that she was jealous – far from it. She felt worthless. Completely worthless. And guilty that she couldn’t help her baby at all. Tears started to fall from her eyes as she collapsed into the rocking chair. “She calms down for you. Why does she calm down for you and not for me?”

“Aleida, it’s okay,” he said. When he looked down, he could already see Helena’s eyes drooping back to sleep.

She shook her head. “I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Aleida.”

“No, I can’t do it. I can’t even comfort my baby,” she cried.

“Yes you can, come on. You’re just tired. It’s okay.”

“I can’t do it, Freddie. I can’t…I can’t…”

“Shhh…it’s okay,” he said, walking over to her in the rocking chair. “You’re just tired. She’ll be better tomorrow morning. You’ll be better tomorrow morning. Just get some rest.”

Aleida tried to pull it together. She tried to keep her tears behind her eyes as she stood up. She tried to get a peek of Helena’s face squished on Fred’s chest. She saw Helena’s cheeks, and her eyes already closed, falling back to sleep. “You’re so good with her, Fred.”

“Go to bed,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a bit.”

As she heeded his request, she walked back towards their bedroom and fell into their bed, wrapping the covers around herself tightly. A few stray tears fell as she could hear Fred through the baby monitor coo Helena some more before he laid her back into her crib. When he finally came back to bed and saw her curled up in the fetal position, he got in and cuddled beside her, wrapping an arm around her. She didn’t move into his touch.

“It’s okay, Aleida. It’ll get better,” he whispered as he kissed her shoulder.

He’d said that before. It’ll get better. You’ll get better. But it wasn’t. She wasn’t.

It wasn’t getting better.

***

“Hvem er min smukke prinsesse?” Frederik asked as he finished buttoning up a onesie with a unicorn on it. Helena gurgled happily at the sound of her father’s voice. She even smiled slightly, making him smile. “Hmm? Hvem er min smukke prinsesse?” he repeated. [[ Who’s my beautiful princess? ]]

When he finished dressing her, he picked her up and held her in his arms and against his chest. She gurgled happily again at being so close to her dad, and he bounced her around briefly before leaving her nursery. At two months old now, she was making much more eye contact with him and smiling so much more, which he loved. There were little things she’d do, and little faces she’d make, that would completely enamor Fred – send him so far off in the deep end he didn’t even want to get out. He was so completely in love with Helena.

He turned the hallway, opening the door to his own bedroom. As he walked in, he saw Aleida still in bed. He walked quietly over to her, trying not to make too much noise. “Aleida,” he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. With one hand, her rubbed up and down her shoulder and arm. She didn’t react at all to his touch. “You gonna come down for some breakfast?” he asked softly. “I can pour you a bowl of cereal if you want. Or eggs – do you want eggs?”

“In a little bit,” she said absent-mindedly, not looking at him or Helena at all.

Fred bit his bottom lip. That was obviously not the answer he was looking for, but the answer he had to accept. It was becoming all too common. Not join him and Helena for breakfast, make her way downstairs around lunchtime to see if everyone was still alive, only to go back up to the bedroom or lie on the couch for the entire afternoon until it was time to go to bed. “Okay. Okay. I uh…I’ll see you in a bit,” he said, getting up again to walk out of the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him.

Fred made his way downstairs, grabbing some of the breastmilk in the fridge Aleida was still able to pump (if she felt like it). He warmed it up as he always did and sat on the couch with Helena in his arms to feed her. Even though he did it every morning – well, every feeding, really – he would look at Helena the entire time, completely mesmerized. He made her. He helped make her, at least. Now, he had the greatest gift of all – of taking care of her and raising her. Making her giggle and laugh, making her smile, making her squirm, making her burp, making her go down for tummy time…everything. Everything. He loved it all. And she was perfect in every single way.

Fred just wished Aleida was here to see it all.

When he finished feeding Helena and began to pat her back to burp her, he could hear his phone vibrate from its place on the counter. He strolled over to it, glancing at the name and message on the screen.

How is Aleida today? It was a text from Brendan Shanahan.

Fred’s heart stopped beating in his chest momentarily. He knew he had to be honest, but it pained him to be. He knew that if anything was going to start getting better, like he promised Aleida it would time and time again, he would have to act. He would have to be proactive.

He picked up his phone. I think I need to call a doctor.

***

“Ooooommm! Ooooommm!” Fred made dramatic eating noises as he began pretend-munching on Helena’s feet, free of socks, as she lay on her blanket on the floor. “Ooooommm! Jeg spiser dine tæer! Jeg spiser dine tæer!” Helena gurgled happily. “Mmmmm, så lækkert!” [[ I’m gonna eat your toes! I’m gonna eat your toes! Mmmmm, so yummy!” ]]

Helena let out a string of happy squeals, and Fred momentarily left her feet alone to pepper her face in light kisses, causing more happy squeals and jiggles. “Jeg elsker dig så meget,” he whispered. “Jeg elsker dig så meget, Helena.” [[ I love you so much. I love you so much, Helena. ]]

His phone began to ring beside him, a series of vibrations that rumbled against the carpet. He wanted to ignore it, but when he looked over to see who it was, Morgan’s name was flashing across the screen. He decided to pick up. “Hey Mo.”

“Hey,” Morgan’s cheery voice greeted him on the other end. “What’s up big guy?”

“Oh, you know, just eating Helena’s toes.”

He could hear Morgan chuckle and Bee gasp in the background. “Oh my God Fred that is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!” she exclaimed. Fred couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction. Anything to do with babies and anything to do with Helena, Bee was all over. He wished Morgan would just propose already so they could get married and start having babies, though at the same time, he understood why Morgan hadn’t yet. He’d explained his decision – wanting Bee to reach all her goals and live her life first before they got engaged. Fred understood. Bee deserved that.

“Bee and I are going to the grocery store. Do you need us to pick you up some more formula?” he asked.

He couldn’t help but smile at their generosity. “No no, that’s okay. We went out the other day and just picked some up.”

“We?”

“Me and Helena.”

“Aleida didn’t come?”

“No. She uh, she was in bed.”

There was a slight pause from Morgan. “Listen…I heard they’re gonna send out the announcement tomorrow,” he said, finally finding the right words. “You’re making the right choice, bud. I mean, there isn’t even a choice. There’s no question.”

“I know, Mo,” Fred nodded his head, staring down at his daughter.

“You have to do right by Aleida, but more than that, right by Helena,” Morgan said. “I support you in this. I mean we all do.”

“I know this is probably a mute question, but would Aleida like any visitors?” Bee asked.

Fred furrowed his brows. He considered it, because on any other occasion Aleida would have loved to see Bee, but this was not just ‘any other occasion’. Fred didn’t think Aleida would appreciate Bee showing up when she practically couldn’t get out of her bed. “I know you mean well, Bee, but I don’t think so. At least not yet.”

“Well how about you?” she followed up. “Would you like a visitor? Or at least some company next time you bring Helena out?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

***

@DarrenDreger: Toronto Maple Leafs announcing officially today that Frederik Andersen is taking a personal leave of absence. The organization is not giving specific reasons why Andersen has requested the personal leave, saying he deserves privacy. No date for a return, either.

@DarrenDreger: They say they are unequivocal in their support of Andersen and will provide him with whatever resources he needs. It is worthy to note that Andersen and his wife welcomed a baby in May.

***

“I want to sue him for every fucking penny he’s worth,” Fred roared into the phone. Helena was napping in her crib upstairs, as was Aleida. There was no way she could find out about this. Fred was ready to explode. He was ready to march down to every media personnel’s office and beat the shit out of them for releasing the information. “Him and the entire channel. Sue them. Sue tham all. How dare he word it like that. How dare he.”

“Fred, we’ll handle it, it’s okay,” Kyle Dubas assured him over the phone. “We’re on it as we speak. We’re in contact with everyone we need to be in contact with to get this retracted.”

“It better be retracted by the end of the night and he better issue a personal and public apology or else I swear to God Kyle I’ll fucking explode.”

***

@DarrenDreger: I want to offer my sincerest apologies for my tweets yesterday about the Frederik Andersen situation. It has come to my attention that Frederik and his wife Aleida never announced the birth of their child in order to keep it private and out of the media, and for that I sincerely apologize.

@DarrenDreger: It has also come to my attention that the way I worded my third tweet was extremely callous and insensitive. I did not mean to insinuate anything about Andersen’s child and create any undue stress or harm to the Andersen family.

@DarrenDreger: I absolutely never wanted to put the child’s health in question or put blame on the child being the reason why Andersen is taking his leave. Again, I sincerely apologize to Frederik Andersen and Aleida Casillas-Andersen for the tweet.

***

Fred always liked the nighttime best. When everything was quiet. When the city was quiet, especially. When he��d be in Helena’s nursery alone with her, cradling her as he fed her her last bottle, singing or humming to her quietly until she fell asleep against his chest, after which he’d delicately lay her in her crib and watch her for what felt like hours until he’d finally move to turn on the baby monitor, turn off the lights, and go to his own bedroom.

Tonight, Aleida was actually awake. He saw her eyes open even though she was curled up in the fetal position underneath the covers, and he was grateful. Grateful that he would able to get this moment with her, however short or long.

He took off his shirt and pants, leaving him in only his boxers as he slipped underneath the covers beside his wife. “Aleida?” he asked softly.

“Hi Fred.”

He was grateful. So grateful she responded. “Wanna look at me?”

There were a few moments of hesitation before Aleida rolled over onto her back. Fred laid on his side, propping himself up on one of his elbows. When they finally made eye contact, he sent her a soft smile.

“Hey,” she said meekly.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, and she hesitated again before nodding her head. His hand found its way underneath her t-shirt and onto her stomach. His hands had been on the baby bump often while Aleida was pregnant, so it was no wonder at least one of them was there now. He began rubbing comforting circles onto the newly, now-flattened-again skin. He hoped Aleida felt it. “How are you feeling today?”

Aleida shrugged her shoulders. “I’m the same, I guess.”

“How is talking with Doctor Wong going?” he asked, mentioning the psychiatrist Aleida had been seeing for her postpartum depression.

“It’s good. I like her. She understands how much I want to get better,” Aleida began. “She uh…she wants me to go on anti-depressants. She says it will help a lot with the depression, and it’ll help me start…you know…recovering. Because they take several weeks to start to kick in.”

“Do you want to do that?”

Aleida started nodding her head before he even finished asking his question. “Yes. Yes. Anything to help me…help me feel something again. Help me become the mom I know I can be to Helena. To help you. You…” her voice began to crack, “you don’t deserve any of this. You’ve basically been a single parent for months and you’ve had to give up your career and it’s not fair to you—”

“Heeeey hey hey, shhhhhhh shhhhhh,” he began shaking his head. “Aleida, it’s not about that. It’s not about that—”

“Yes it is about that,” she cut him off, tears falling down her cheeks now. “It is about that, Freddie. I’m trapped in my own body and mind. I know I want to get better for Helena, for you and your career, but…but I’m in this war…” she began to breathe heavily.

“Shhhhhh, it’s okay,” Fred wrapped his arms around her and held her, trying to calm her down. “Aleida, this is not your fault. This is not your fault. I know it’s hard but you’re going to get through it.”

“I’m never going to get these months back,” she cried as she looked up at him. “That’s what’s killing me the most. I’m never…I’m the worst mother—”

“No, Aleida—”

“I couldn’t help my baby. I couldn’t even get her to stop crying—”

“Aleida—”

“And when I held her I felt nothing. What mother holds their newborn daughter and feels nothing?!”

“Aleida, please—”

“I know I love my baby but I can’t love her—”

“Stop it, Aleida. Please stop doing this to yourself,” he urged, squeezing her against his body as she cried into his chest. “You’re a great mother, Aleida. I know you will be a great mother.”

She cried for a long time. A very long time. But Fred held her the entire time, gave her kisses on top of her head, whispered reassurances in her ear, not knowing if it would even help. Despite his own fatigue, despite the wear and tear on his own well-being, he knew he had to be there for his wife. There was no other option. If this was going to be another night where Aleida would cry herself to sleep and he would only get maybe an hour of sleep in before Helena woke up again, then so be it. That was the way it would have to be.

As her cries became lighter, Fred gave her another kiss on her forehead. “I love you, Aleida.”

“Do you?” she sniffled meekly. “Still?”

Fred’s heart shattered in a million pieces at her question – at the tone of it, the wording, everything. “Of course I do. Nothing could ever make me stop loving you.”

“Not even being unable to take care of our baby?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing,” he said definitively. “I love you.”

Aleida fell asleep in Fred’s arms that night, the sound of his heartbeat bringing her the smallest bit of solace.

***

“Look sweetpea, there’s Morgan, one of daddy’s best friends,” Frederik spoke to his daughter as she lay against his chest, with Fred lying down on the couch while watching the Leaf game. The boys were in town, playing against the Tampa Bay Lightning. They were currently up 2-0 in the second period. “He helps make sure pucks don’t get to daddy. Oh and look, there’s Auston, another one of daddy’s best friends. He scores a lot of goals.”

Helena squealed happily, wiggling around slightly in his arms. He craned his neck to give her a big kiss on her chubby cheeks. “You’ll go to a game one day too – don’t worry. When mommy wants you to go. Maybe when it’s closed and when nobody is there but the team.”

“Brrrbbbaaaa!”

“Yes! And you’ll wear your little Andersen jersey, and you’ll look even more adorable than you do now, and everybody will swoon over you like I do every day!”

“Brrrbamamamama!”

“Yes sweetpea! Mama will be there. Mama will always be there.”

“Mamamama.”

“Yeeeees, mama. Mommy loves you so much.”

“Fred?”

Fred’s eyes widened at the sound of Aleida’s voice. He grabbed onto Helena’s chubby body before rising from his position on the couch. He looked behind him to see Aleida standing in the doorway in a pair of his pajamas – well, one of his old t-shirts that draped over her body like a dress, and a pair of shorts. To say that he was shocked to see her down here, now, was an understatement. He’d assumed she wouldn’t come down the whole night. “Hey baby,” he greeted her.

“You guys watching the game?” she asked, nodding slightly towards the television.

Fred didn’t take his eyes off of her. “Yeah. Just showing her the boys.”

“Can…” she started, very clearly nervous. She started picking at her nails. “Can I watch too?”

“Wh—of course,” Fred said, standing up immediately to extend an arm for Aleida to come over. “Come on. Come over here. We’re up 2-0.”

“Oh. Good.”

They sat beside each other on the couch, close, so that their thighs were touching. Fred still held Helena in his arm. “Are they playing well?”

“Very.”

Aleida focused on the TV momentarily. “Good.” She settled in more, though Fred could tell she wasn’t completely comfortable. He adjusted Helena in his arms so she was sitting on his lap, facing the TV. He could see Aleida watching, secretly. Helena would babble every so often, and try to look back at her parents. After several minutes of “watching the game”, Aleida finally spoke up. “F…Fred?”

“Yes?”

“Can…” she was obviously apprehensive, obviously very scared. “Do you think I can hold Helena?”

Fred’s heart softened. “Aleida, you don’t have to ask to hold your own daughter,” he said.

“I know…but, but she’s being so good, and you’re so good with her…she’s not used to me—”

“Here,” he said, readying for the transfer. Aleida extended her arms and hands, and held onto Helena gingerly. “She likes close contact. You can put her on your knee and like, against your chest if you want.”

“Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be great,” Fred nodded his head, trying to give Aleida some confidence. He watched as she sat Helena in the position Fred recommended. Once satisfied with the transfer, Helena let out a happy squeal. Aleida let out a little relieved laugh at the sound. Fred smiled.

“When – when does she take her bottle before bed?” Aleida asked.

Fred looked at his watch quickly. “I start prepping the bottle in about five minutes.”

Aleida nodded her head in understanding. “Can I…I mean,” she paused, thinking about the words she wanted to say, “I want to feed her.”

“You can do that,” Fred smiled. “She’d love that.”

Five minutes later, Fred disappeared into the kitchen to mix the formula and warm up the bottle. When he returned to the couch, Aleida was smiling down at Helena, who was happily gurgling and looking up at her mom. When Fred sat down beside them, he took the initiative to cuddle up to Aleida, and was so relieved when she let him. He handed her the bottle. “Lean her back in your arms…cradle her until she’s comfortable,” he instructed gently. “She likes to be…like…cradled.”

Aleida moved Helena, holding her in one arm and cradling her as Fred handed her the bottle. Aleida brought it to Helena’s mouth, and she took it immediately. Aleida let out another sigh of relief. She looked down at Helena the entire time; Helena looked at her the entire time. And when Helena was ready to be burped, Fred placed the towel on Aleida’s shoulder and showed her how. Aleida pat her back – Helena even spit up a little, which caused both Fred and Aleida to giggle – before the coveted burp escaped her. Like clockwork, Helena fell asleep soon after.

They climbed up the stairs. As Aleida placed a sleeping Helena into her crib, Fred was there, watching. Aleida gently patted her hair and ran her finger along Helena’s chubby cheek. Fred stood with her, wrapping an arm around her as she continued to look down at her daughter. He could see a few tears fall.

“You alright?”

Aleida nodded her head. She looked up at Fred, finally. “That was nice,” she whispered, choking back on her tears. “That was all so nice.”

Fred engulfed her in a hug.

***

“Fred, how do you say, ‘You’re the sweetest, most precious girl in all the land and I’m going to buy you all the books you ever want for the rest of your life’ in Danish?”

“Du er den søde, mest dyrebare pige i hele landet, og jeg vil købe dig alle de bøger, du nogensinde har lyst til resten af dit liv,” he said from the stove.

“Blah blah blah blah hygge hygge books,” Bee babbled to Helena who was relaxing in her baby rocker set on the kitchen counter.

Morgan and Aleida laughed from the kitchen table as Morgan set it. Fred, having just finished with frying the bacon, turned off the stove. “Do you mind grabbing the bacon so I can take her, actually? I’ve got her bottle ready right here and—”

“I’ve got her,” Aleida’s voice popped up as she made her way out of her seat and towards the island.

Fred looked over his shoulder. “You sure?” he asked. Morgan and Bee knew better than to intervene.

“Yeah, of course,” she said, her voice upbeat as she took Helena in her arms and the bottle from Fred. “Let’s eat before the bacon and milk get cold.”

Everybody settled into their seats, grabbing their portions of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit salad that was prepared. Aleida held Helena on her lap while feeding her from the bottle from the same hand. Fred couldn’t help but smile. She picked up her fork with her other hand and began eating her breakfast. “So do you guys have to go on a road trip soon?” Aleida asked Morgan as she put some strawberries into her mouth.

“This Thursday we’re leaving for Chicago,” Morgan said. “It’s a quick one. Won’t be too bad.”

“Well, here’s hoping Fred will be able to join you guys on some upcoming ones in the near future,” Aleida said.

Morgan almost dropped his fork. He furrowed his brows as he looked between Fred and Aleida; Bee doing the same. “Wait…what?”

“Well…” Aleida said, taking a deep breath. “Nothing is set in stone yet, but um…” she looked over to Fred, who was already reaching out to grab her hand across the table. “My anti-depressants are working wonders. With the therapy and the daily meditation and yoga and you know, just the entire program I’ve been doing, I’ve been feeling so much better…”

“Aleida, that’s amazing,�� Bee said, sensing Aleida needed a moment to collect her thoughts and emotions.

“But you know there doesn’t have to be a timeline on this,” Morgan added.

“I know, I know,” she nodded her head knowingly. “I mean, it’s only October. I’m not saying he’s going to come back next week. He would never do that,” she laughed slightly, looking towards her husband. “But we…with the new positivity, and um…well, we think we’re going to hire a nanny – at the least a night nanny, but maybe full-time – to help with the transition until I feel confident on my own…”

“Aleida is just feeling more confident now that she’s feeling better,” Fred picked up where she left off. “It’s going to be a while still – we know that – but it’s steps in the right direction. In the direction she wants to go in, and that will benefit the family.”

“Well, that’s a cause for celebration then!” Bee said cheerily, holding up her glass of orange juice. “To…to…” she tried to think of a good salute.

“To me feeling better,” Aleida announced.

Morgan nodded his head. “To Aleida feeling better.”

When breakfast was over and Fred and Morgan were cleaning up, Aleida and Bee took Helena upstairs to change her diaper. Bee watched on as Aleida did so, keeping Helena occupied by making funny faces at her.

“Are you religious?” Aleida asked once she was finished buttoning up Helena’s outfit.

“Not particularly. Why?”

Aleida took a deep breath. “Fred’s been telling me about everything you’ve done. What everyone’s been doing to help, really. But you. How you always wanted to visit me, how you’d come do laundry or pick up formula or diapers and—”

“Aleida, it was honestly noth—”

“No, stop,” Aleida interrupted. Bee stayed silent, although she wanted to wipe the ashamed look off of Aleida’s face forever. “You’re an angel on Earth, Bee. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you.”

“You never have to,” Bee said. Aleida lowered her head. “Listen, I’ve told you about my past. You know that just a few months into my relationship with Morgan, someone broke into my apartment and stole all my stuff. The way my new friends rallied around me dumbfounded me. I wasn’t used to people helping me ever in my life. But from that time forward I promised myself that if I was ever in a position lucky enough where I was able to give back like that, I wouldn’t hesitate,” she explained. “You didn’t need my help monetarily, but you needed it on other ways. I was prepared to do whatever it took to help. Because I love you and Fred and Helena, and because you guys are my friends. Simple as that.”

Aleida nodded, a few tears streaming down her face. “I just…I want you to know how much I appreciate it. Really. Because I couldn’t be a mom for the longest time.”

“I know you do,” Bee said gently, rubbing her back.

Aleida wiped away her tears quickly. She chuckled slightly. “I’m gonna buy you a bottle of Dom, Bee.”

Bee chuckled along. “As long as we crack it open together.”

***

@TSNBobMcKenzie: BREAKING: New Year, new news: The Toronto Maple Leafs are in talks to activate Frederik Andersen from IR. Andersen did not start the season with the club due to his personal leave of absence, which was supported by the organization. More to come.

@TSNBobMcKenzie: Just rumours right now. Nothing confirmed. Club says call will be made by Andersen whenever he is ready. There is absolutely no pressure for him to return.

***

@TSNBobMcKenzie: BREAKING: Toronto Maple Leafs move to activate Frederik Andersen off injured reserve.

@TSNBobMcKenzie: Rumour is that Andersen may start in net as early as the first game back from the All-Star Break. Brendan Shanahan, Kyle Dubas, and Frederik Andersen to speak to media at 11am. Tune into TSN for live coverage.

@TSNBobMcKenzie: I can hear Leaf fans screaming from my desk. Oh, happy days.

***

“Freddie, you’ve officially announced your return to the club. We think everyone saw the Instagram post, but would you care to elaborate at all about your personal leave, perhaps for the fans who have been waiting?” a reporter asked.

Fred cocked his neck to the side a bit. “I mean, I thought the post was a pretty obvious answer to where I’ve been,” he began. “I was busy being a father to my daughter. There are things that take precedent over hockey. My daughter being one of them. I do not regret my decision and I never, ever will, but in saying that, I am excited to be back with the club, and I’m excited to play again, that’s for sure.”

“I think Fred became a role model for a lot of the guys in this room, as if he wasn’t already,” Brendan Shanahan spoke up. “Like he said, there are things that take precedent over hockey – children are…they’re at the top of that list. Fred took the time off he needed to take to ensure that his daughter was healthy. The boys in the room supported him, and we at the top supported him wholeheartedly. We’re happy to see him back.”

***

“Helena! Helena! Come to mama!”

“Mama…mama,” Helena spoke as Fred picked her up and balanced her on her feet again, balancing her by the tip of her hands.

“Go to mama, Helena. Go to mama,” he said close to her ear as he released her delicately.

Helena took a shaky step forward, though she kept her balance, putting her other foot forward. She kept balancing without Fred’s help, causing Fred to smile. He could hear “Come on Helena!” being repeated from Aleida over and over again. When Helena made eye contact with her mom, she smiled and began walking towards her. After a few more wobbly steps, Helena finally reached Aleida, who engulfed Helena in a huge hug. Both Fred and Aleida started cheering like she’d just finished a marathon. Aleida started peppering her with kisses, and Fred rose from his spot and moved over to join in on the kissing.

“Mama loves you Helena,” Aleida would say in between kisses. “Mama loves you so much.”

“Mama,” Helena said back with a giggle in her voice from all the kisses. She looked over at Fred, who loomed over Aleida’s shoulder. “Dada.”

“Far elsker dig også, Helena.”

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just-hockeythings · 6 years

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Oops- Freddie Andersen Part Eight

I FINALLY have gotten back to writing! I get so much love with this story and honestly I don’t know how it’s going to end yet so as long as people still want to read it I’m going to try and keep writing it. So thank everyone for the love I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Nothing really maybe just like some cursing

Word count:1.5k

Part 7 can be found here

The two of you finally leave the bar and walk out to Freddie’s car. He’s walking pretty close to you and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or if you’re just projecting. The walk to the car is mostly silent, you exchange only a few words, mostly because you’re afraid you’ll blurt out something you might regret. Freddie doesn’t seem to be too bothered by the quiet but you do catch him looking at you a couple times. He just smiles and looks away and you really aren’t sure what to think of it. You have to keep yourself from looking at him too much because every time you do the little self control that’s keeping you from kissing him dwindles away. You make it to the car without doing anything foolish, but when Freddie comes around to open your door for you, you almost lose it (it’s the little things really). But you thank him and get into the front seat of the car. It’s even nicer than the back and you can’t help but mention it to Freddie. He walks around and gets into the driver seat and starts the car.

“This is seriously the nicest car I’ve ever been in. I might be obsessed.” you say blushing a little.

“Thank you.” he says smiling but keeping his eyes on the road. “It’s definitely something I’m proud of.”

You nod and turn to look out the window and the streets of late night Toronto. Freddie switches on the radio to a quiet rock station and you start to zone out a little bit. You’re staring out of the window at the street, but you’re deep in thoughts about the things you want Freddie to be doing to you in the back of his car.

“(y/n)?” Freddie asks trying to get your attention.

He has to call your name a couple more times before you snap back into reality. You shake your head and turn to look at him.

“Sorry sorry” you say, “I guess I got a little lost there.”

“I’m sorry my company is so boring.” he says laughing a little.

“Oh no no it’s not you I promise.” you say feeling your face getting warm.

“Well either way we’re almost to the diner.” Freddie pulls into the fairly empty parking lot of a cozy looking diner. He turns off the engine and steps out of the car, walking around to open your door. You step out and thank him, and the two of you head for the entrance of the diner. The restaurant is almost completely empty, which is not surprising given the fact it’s almost 2am. The waitress leads you to a booth and puts menus down on your table. The diner is pretty bright and you’ve been awake so long you’re already sobering up a little. You both order sodas and take some time to look over the menu. You decide on your new favorite late night snack, poutine, and Freddie orders a burger.

“So how has work been?” Freddie asks after the waitress leaves.

His question makes you realize you hadn’t really had any normal casual conversation with him and you think it’s really nice that he actually seems to care about your boring everyday life.

“It’s been good!” you say and take a sip of your cola. “I’ve only been there a little while but I think I’m on track for a promotion. Moving here has been great I think I’ve already fallen in love with it.”

You start to trail off a little at the end and you hope Freddie doesn’t notice. He doesn’t seem to, he just smiles and nods.

“Yeah Toronto is great, I was a little worried it wouldn’t compare much to California but I’ve definitely fallen in love with it.” he looks away from you when he says the last part and you start to get butterflies.

“I’ve always wanted to go to California, honestly I just really love traveling I’m pretty jealous of that part of your job to be honest.” you say ignoring the fluttering in your stomach.

“The traveling is really fun, we get to go to a lot of cool places. Sometimes the girlfriends and wives come with the guys they always seem to have a good time.” Freddie says and you notice that he’s blushing a little.

“What’s been your favorite place you’ve traveled to so far?” you ask trying to dissipate the tension.

“For hockey or just in general?” he asks keeping the conversation light.

“Hmm for hockey.” you clarify.

Freddie takes a moment to decide, his thinking face is too cute and it makes you smile. While he’s thinking you take another drink of your soda and down the majority of a glass of water.

“New York is an easy answer, everyone loves it, and anywhere in California is an obvious answer, but besides those two I think I’d have to say Nashville.” he answers thoughtfully.

“Oh I’ve always wanted to go to Nashville! I’d love to try some food there. Honestly I want to try the food everywhere.” you say smiling.

“All the food is probably my favorite thing about traveling.” Freddie responds.

Before you can ask about his favorite foods the waitress comes back with your food. Talking so much about food has made you more hungry than you realize so you dig into your fries. Before moving to Canada you would have never thought a blob of fries, gravy, and cheese could be so good. There are a lot of things you have grown to love about Canada.

“Want some fries?” you offer Freddie.

He nods and grabs a glob of fries off of your plate. “Thanks” he smiles and takes a bite. You follow his hand to his mouth with your eyes and can’t stop yourself from watching his mouth while he chewed. It might be because you are still a little affected by the alcohol or maybe because it is so late but you are mesmerized by his lips. You must be obviously staring because he starts giving you a funny look. Not an angry look but more amused, like he enjoys having you looking at him. Your eyes meet and you look away, embarrassed. You look down at your plate and eat your poutine while trying not to think about badly you want to kiss the lips you were just staring at. And how much you want to wake up to them everyday. You look back up and see that Freddie is eating his burger looking at you.

“Is everything okay?” he asks looking a little concerned.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine just a little tired.” you answer with a small smile.

The rest of the meal goes by in relative silence but when the check comes you try to grab it. Freddie grabs your hand as you reach for it, “Oh no I’m getting that.” he smiles moving your hand and grabbing the bill.

You frown but don’t argue, and after the waitress leaves with the money you thank him for the meal.

“It’s my pleasure.” he says looking at you. The two of you stand up and start towards the door.

“I’d like to do stuff like this more often. With you.” He says as you exit the restaurant.

You turn and look at him and he’s smiling at you, eyes shining with something that might be hope.

“You can always call me whenever you’re around, I had a lot of fun tonight.” you say trying not to blush for what feels like the millionth time that night.

You keep walking back to his car, and again, just like a gentleman, Freddie opens your door before walking around to get into the driver’s side seat.

“I kind of remember where you live but could you just help me out a little with directions?” he asks while pulling out of the parking lot.

“Yeah of course!” you answer. “So when are you going to be in town again?” you continue.

“We have a homestead next week so I’ll be kind of busy but we could get breakfast or dinner or something.” he answers.

“We’ll figure something out definitely” you say smiling.

The conversation slows down to mostly just you directing him to your apartment, but the quiet is nice. It’s late and you’re mostly just thinking about your bed and how you can’t wait to get into it.

Freddie pulls up in front of your apartment and stops the car.

“Thank you so much for everything Freddie.” you say unbuckling your seatbelt.

“It’s been my pleasure I can’t wait to do it again.” Freddie says smiling at you.

You reach for the car door handle but before you leave you stop, and turn and look back at Freddie, “It’s really late and you’ve had a really long day, I don’t know how far you um live but if you don’t want to drive anymore you can like uh crash with me.”

Freddie doesn’t say anything for a second and you start to panic, but he grins.

“Honestly I was hoping you’d ask I do live kind of far and I almost fell asleep on the way over here.”

You let out a sigh of relief and sit back in your seat, “Pull around I’ll show you where to park.”

#freddie andersen #freddie andersen imagines #frederik andersen #Toronto Maple Leafs #nhl imagines #fan fic #My writing

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ilyasorokinn · 2 years

Text

breaking news , frederik andersen

note, i was inspired after watching these three tiktok’s. ( 1 , 2 , 3 ) this one. i thought it was funny, and boom here we are. also, this is part of the "andersen adventures" series. another note, there's a lot of media like tweets and news reports in this fic. sorry if that's confusing. pair, freddie andersen x reader summary, after freddie tells you he's been traded, you decide to tell the world before the press does. warnings, none word count, 1051 words

(gif not mine)

You and Elias were on your daily walk with Jasper. Elias was almost a year old, so he was beginning to walk. It was a slow process, so whenever you went on your walks, Elias would sit in the stroller.

"Leaf!" He pointed to a leaf on the grass, his 4th one.

"That's right, it's a leaf." You nodded, picking it up and handing it to him.

You continued on your walk like normal. Jasper trotted alongside Elias, making sure that the baby, soon-to-be toddler, was safe, "You ready to go home?" You asked.

"Home." Elias cheered, clapping his hands.

"Alrighty, home it is." You nodded, pushing the stroller back towards home.

As you were putting Elias down for a nap, your phone rang, "Hello?"

"Are you sitting down?" Fred asked.

"No?" You asked.

"Well, I would sit down." He told you. You did as you were told and sat down.

"Okay, sitting down. What's going on, Fred?" You asked.

"Well, uh," He stuttered, "You see--"

"Spit it out, Frederik." You sighed.

"I got traded." He said.

"You-what?" You asked.

"I got traded." He repeated.

"Traded to where exactly? Are we even still gonna be in Canada?" You asked.

"I got traded to Carolina."

"We're not even gonna be in the same country?" You asked.

"Baby..."

"We have to move? Like, to a different country?" You asked.

"Y/N..."

"That's really far." You sighed, running a hand across your forehead.

"Y/N!" He called your name louder.

"What?" You asked.

"Take a deep breath." He told you, "I'm coming home now. We'll talk."

"We better." You nodded.

The minute Fred was through the door, you were in his face, "What do you mean you got traded? We're actually moving to Carolina?" You asked, still trying to wrap your head around everything.

"Yeah, we're moving to Carolina." He nodded.

Your face fell, "But we just moved in. We just bought this house."

"I know." Fred nodded, a solemn expression on his face.

"Fred..."

"I know." He nodded again, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you. He pressed a kiss to your head, "I guess the fun part if you get to announce the trade." He told you.

You looked up at him with a raised brow, "I get to announce it?"

"You do." He nodded.

"That doesn't make anything better." You pouted, crossing your arms.

"I know." He nodded.

"Stop patronizing me."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are." You pushed him away.

y/nandersen: watch out carolina, elias and jasper are ready

10.7k likes 9.23 retweets

leafsfan: um... is this confirmed? i mean, she is a trusted source, right?

lexilafleur: did you just—did she just?

sydneyemartin: y/n, i love you.

leafsnews: y/n andersen, giver of trade news before even the org announces it 😭

dalter: An inside source agrees to trade goaltender Frederik Andersen from Toronto Maple Leafs for Carolina Hurricanes.

The inside source being Andersen's wife @/ynandersen.

steve_dangle: Y/N Andersen first to announce husband's trade from Toronto to Carolina.

sportsnet: Frederik Andersen's trade hasn't been confirmed by either team, but a trusted source confirms the trade.

kristen_shilton: #Leafs still haven't confirmed the Frederik Andersen trade, but his wife has.

“FREDERIK ANDERSEN’S WIFE FIRST TO BREAK THE NEWS OF HIS TRADE”

The first on this story wasn't the Canes or the Leafs, but instead Andersen's wife, Y/N. Andersen has played for the Leafs since 2016, so the news came as shock to every fan.

Y/N Andersen first tweeted a sort of cryptic tweet, reading, "Watch out Carolina, Elias and Jasper are ready” which is a reference to their child and dog.

Not long after, both the Leafs and the Canes confirmed the trade, but not before having a laugh at the goaltender's wife's tweet.

A few days after the trade had been announced, you and Elias waved him off at the airport with promises of seeing him soon.

Soon enough, that time came. You, Elias, and Jasper walked out of the sliding doors of the airport where Fred was standing, leaning against his rental car.

"Look, who's that?" You spoke in a baby voice to Elias.

"Daddy!" Elias clapped. Fred smile, picking up Elias and peppering the baby's face with kisses. You thanked the airport employee who was pushing your bags and carrying Jasper's carrier.

Fred smile over at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your head, "Come on, let's go to the hotel."

You and Elias stood in front of the glass, Elias decked out in a new Canes 'Andersen' jersey. Practice was about to start and the players were getting ready to skate onto the ice.

"You nervous?" One of the partners asked, "First game."

"I'm not nervous at all. Not to sound cocky or anything." You laughed.

The first of the players skated onto the ice, and the arena went wild. For the first time in a long time, the arena actually had people in it.

The moment Fred saw Elias and you standing at the glass, he skated up. He, first, tossed a puck over the glass, which you caught. Fred's attention then turned back to Elias.

Elias cheered, slapping his hands on the glass. Fred removed his glove, and put his hand up, mirroring Elias'. Fred blew Elias kisses. Elias tried to copy his father and blew kisses back.

He blew a kiss to you for safe measure. You smiled, waving to him with one hand while the other held Elias up. Fred waved to you both then skated off, taking his position in front of the net.

You walked down to the tunnel with the rest of the girls after the game was over. You knew they would all be high on adrenaline because of their win.

You watched as guy after guy walked out until, finally, Fred walked out. A smile immediately found its way onto your face. His smile was just as big as yours as he made his way over to you.

"There he is, Mr. 'I robbed Mat Barzal'." You joked.

"I did more than just rob Mat Barzal." He smirked.

"That you did." You laughed, leaning up and kissing him.

Elias whined, wanting attention, "We didn't forget you." Fred laughed, picking the baby up and pressing a kiss to the side of his head, "Come on, let's go home."

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sorry this is kind of short and kind of bad.

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Can I request a fic where Auston is in love with the reader but so is Freddie and the reader has feelings for Fred so they date in secret as to not hurt Auston but he finds out when he catches them together or something 😅 *edit* would it be possible to make the reader really shy and quiet and possibly a little bit innocent and Fred thinks Auston only likes her because he wants to corrupt her or something like that

Warning: fluff, angst

Author’s Note: So, I decided to do this in kind of a “timeline” set up. So we start with them all meeting each other and then see how Auston fell for the reader and how Freddie and the reader started a relationship and how/why they decided to keep it a secret which made the fic REALLY long. About three quarters of the way through, I thought about splitting it up but didn’t so... it’s just really long. ALSO! I’m pretty sure credit for this GIF goes to @moto-leafs but I originally found it on Google Image Search and that link took me to Pinterest so I could be wrong. If I am, please correct me! But I mean, look at that GIF -- so much anger, I had to use it. Lastly, I just want to point out that I know nothing about the Raptors or basketball in general and, to be honest, I have no interest in learning anything about it. I apologize if the players I referred to are not good players or that they’re not actually currently on the team (I looked up the Roster and just randomly picked names.) Lastly, to anon, I already had most of the fic written when you sent in your ask so I’m not sure if I was able to completely fulfill it. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

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Auston’s P.O.V

The Raptors game was disappointing. It started out great but late in the third quarter, they gave up their lead and ended up losing by 20.

“Well...” Freddie sighed, “what do you wanna do?”

“Ugh,” you groaned, “I don’t know , I j--” Your attention was stolen by the scent of coconut passing you by and you tried to find who it belonged to, your eyes landing on a group of girls giggling near the exit. “Follow them” you said under your breath

“Huh?” Freddie replied, drawing your attention back to him

“Sorry,” you said before quickly making your way to the group of girls that held your attention, “follow them.” You repeated to Freddie as your feet began to move

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he laughed, “we can’t just go following a group of girls. That’s a little creepy, don’t you think?”

“Then let’s go talk to them...” you sighed, “that’s all I meant. They just smell so damn good...”

“What?” Fred scoffed

“Just.. follow me.” You came up behind the girls, listening to them laugh with each other, and leaned down to greet them. “Hi,” you said happily, standing up straight when they turned to you, “I’m Auston. This is Freddie.”

“Hi,” one of them said, “I’m Lily”

“Shirley,” another introduced herself before laughing, “my parents were big fans of Shirley Temple”

“Gabby” another said with a smile

“Tracy” the next one greeted and you were soon met with the eyes of the last girl of the group. Catching the scent from earlier and waiting for her to speak

“Hi,” she smiled shyly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you both...”

“We’re sorry for just.. kind of stalking you guys,” Freddie chuckled, “we just wanted to say hi. And see if you wanted to join us for some drinks?” The girls looked back and forth between each other before Lily agreed for all of them

“We’ll grab our own ride and follow you there?” she said

“Or we could all just walk over” you suggested

“Well...” Gabby chimed in, “what bar are you taking us to?”

“There’s a place called the Loose Moose. I’ve heard it’s a good vibe”

“It’s a short walk” Tracy said

“And it’s not too cold out” (Y/N) added with a shrug

“I like it. It’s like we’ll have bodyguards” Shirley joked

“Alright then! I guess that’s settled” Lily laughed, gesturing for everybody to head out the exit.

“So what’s the plan here?” Freddie asked in a whispered tone as the two of you followed behind the group of girls, staying close so you didn’t lose them

“Don’t really have a plan,” you replied, “just thought we’d hang out...”

“That’s it?” he scoffed, “you’ve got no thoughts?”

“What did you have in mind?” you chided

“Nothing,” he chuckled, holding his hands up in defence, “I just thought that you’d have something in mind. You know... since you were the one who wanted us to ‘follow them’”

“Like I said, I just thought we’d hang out. Have some drinks, laugh a little. No ulterior motives” you confessed. You both listened to see if you could hear either of the girls talking about you, trying not to be too obvious, but when (Y/N) turned her head to look at you, you both jerked your heads away; watching her smile before whispering something to her friend.

“So...” she started, “why us?”

“What do you mean?” you asked with a smirk, catching Freddie watching you as she spoke, leading you to train your eyes forward

“Oh come on!” she scoffed dramatically, “don’t think that we don’t know who you are. We’re not dumb enough not to realize that you’re Auston Matthews and Frederik Andersen of the Toronto Maple Leafs” she smiled as she gestured enthusiastically, keeping relatively close to the two of you, your arms rubbing against each other every so often. “But why did you pick us? Why did you come over and ask us to get drinks with you guys?”

“Fair enough,” Freddie smiled, grabbing her attention before you could, “we couldn’t help it. We saw you all from across the room and we got a little... entranced.”

“Entranced?” she giggled, turning her body ever so toward Freddie, “really, that’s what you’re going with?”

“Yeah, I think it is” Freddie smirked. You watched as the two locked eyes, leaving you to direct them through the crowd, never feeling like more of a third wheel in your life.

It was strange, to you, that two professional athletes would want to take you and your girls out for a drink but then you thought to yourself: five of us, two of them, they’re probably just playing the odds. So, when Lily agreed to go to the bar, you couldn’t exactly think of a reason to say no.

“They’re cute!” Shirley whispered to you as you walked arm in arm down the sidewalk

“Are you planning on making a move?” you smirked

“Maybe,” she replied, “are you?”

“I don’t think so” you smiled. You weren’t really the flirt of the group, you usually left that up to Lily and Tracy, and you were almost positive they were the reason Auston and Freddie approached the group anyway. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be a wing woman for them or get some answers for yourself. You looked back and caught the two laughing between themselves before jerking their heads away as if not to be caught by you, “hey, I’ll be right back okay?”

“Mhm...” Shirley hummed teasingly and you dropped your arm from hers and fell back to where the boys stood

“So...” you said as you tucked yourself between the two of them, “why us?”

“What do you mean?” Auston replied with a smirk

“Oh come on” you scoffed, switching your gaze between the two of them as you continued. “Don’t think we don’t know who you are. We’re not dumb enough not to realize that you’re Auston Matthews and Frederik Andersen of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” you smiled as you confessed something you knew they already knew, feeling Auston’s arm graze against yours every once in a while as the three of you continued walked pretty closely together. “But why did you pick us? Why did you come over and ask us to get drinks with you guys?”

“Fair enough,” Freddie smiled and you couldn’t help but be drawn to him, “we couldn’t help it. We saw you all from across the room and we got a little... entranced.”

“Entranced?” you giggled, turning your body to his, “really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yeah,” he smirked, “I think it is.” You tried not to stare at him, even when you heard your friends laugh or when you felt Auston’s hand on your back to direct you away from oncoming traffic on the sidewalk, but you couldn’t help it; he had you hooked.

Freddie’s P.O.V

The entirety of the night was spent trading shots and expressing how deeply disappointed you all were in the Raptors

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY GAVE UP THEIR LEAD SO EARLY!” Gabby exclaimed

“I can’t believe Davis missed that shot!” Shirley added

“Lowry was off tonight,” Auston sighed, “ruined the entire game”

“Now hold on,” (Y/N) interjected, “you can’t blame it all on Lowry.”

“I can’t?” he asked, raising one eyebrow and you shook your head before smiling

“It’s a team sport,” (Y/N) continued, “Watanabe and Siakam should’ve helped out their man.” You finished your beer before asking the group if they wanted another drink and everyone seemed to be empty

“Here,” Freddie called out as you walked away, “let me help you.” You placed your hand on the small of her back to let her know that you were there. As you waited for the bartender to take your long list of drink orders, you decided this was your chance to get to know her a little better, “so.. what do you do?”

“For work?” she asked, “I’m a social media content curator...” she rolled her eyes at her title

“I take it that’s not what you want to do?” you smiled and she shook her head

“No...” she sighed, “I went to school for interior design but, because I’m a millennial, everyone thought I knew what I was doing online. Spoiler alert: I have to use Google for everything I do in my job because I have no idea what’s going on” she laughed. “But I have so much student debt and the job pays well...”

“What do you want to do?” you asked

“Like what’s my dream job?” she replied and it was your turn to nod for her to continue, “I-- someday, I want to have my own company. I want to be able to design spaces for luxury hotels and million dollar homes while also breathing life into non-profit organizations like homeless shelters and food banks...” she got so excited explaining her dream that you could only watch in awe as her eyes sparkle as she shared her ideas. “I’m sorry...” she blushed, “am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, I’m sorry”

“No no no!” you exclaimed, stopping only for a second to finally order the drinks for the group. “Don’t be sorry,” you continued, “I like hearing you talk. I like hearing you get all excited, it’s exciting for me” she chuckled at your confession before walking ahead of you back to the group, sitting down across from her friends and you grabbed the open seat next to her.

“Thank you” she smiled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear so you could still see her face. The night continued with more alcohol, more talking and a little bit of dancing and you kept getting closer and closer to (Y/N) but when you got too tired to keep dancing, Auston stepped in. You watched as they laughed together, swaying to the music before (Y/N) let her head fall back onto Auston’s chest, stopping when the music changed; Auston making his way toward you quickly as (Y/N) stayed back with her friends

“You should back out there,” he smiled, wiping off the sweat from his brow, “everyone’s having a lot of fun” he said as he looked back at the girls. There was a look on his face that you could tell meant he was falling for her, “god she’s somethin’ huh?”

“Who?” you questioned dumbly, hoping that he’d say someone else

“(Y/N),” he scoffed, taking a sip of water, “I mean look at her!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the girl you’d begun falling for. “That smile, that hair, the way she moves her hips. I mean, I could swear she was testing me out there” you had to stop yourself from getting offended on behalf of (Y/N), but the way Auston was talking was starting to infuriate you

“I didn’t think she was your type...” you mumbled

“She’s not, not really,” he smirked, “but I’m allowed to have a little fun. Plus, she looks so innocent... I like that”

“So, you just want to corrupt her?” you scoffed

“Corrupt her? No way!” he said, “I just wanna see how innocent she really is”

“So, you’re just gonna fuck and chuck? Really? You’re gonna be that guy?” your anger had gotten the best of you and you just snapped

“Whoa,” he replied with a chuckle, holding his hands by his shoulders in defence, “there’s nothing going on with you two right?” You looked back at where (Y/N) was on the dance floor, bopping with her friends and laughing with the people around her, before looking back at your friend and teammate. What were you supposed to say? No, I’m not into her. I don’t find the way she laughs hypnotizing. I don’t find her passion exciting. I don’t think she’s sweet. Or funny. Or smart. I’m not into her. Of course not. But of course, that would be a lie, “Freddie? Hello?..”

“Sorry...” you said, shaking your head, “have you asked her out?”

“No,” he admitted, “but the way you’re acting, I guess I just thought I’d make sure nothing was going on before I did...”

“No, nothing’s happening” you strained a smile, looking at (Y/N) before continuing, “ask her out. See what she says. See if she’s as innocent as she seems...” he smiled at you and patted you on the shoulder as he finished the water in front of him, shifting in his seat as the girls came back to the table.

“HEY!” they all exclaimed, the alcohol clearly taking effect; (Y/N) sat beside you and you tried to not get too close; leaving space for Auston to make his move. The look on her face proved that she wasn’t happy with the way you were suddenly treating her; only to be confirmed when she followed you to the bathroom

“WHAT THE HELL?!” she yelled, pushing into the bathroom and locking it behind you

“What are you doing?!” you yelled back quietly

“Why are you all of a sudden ignoring me? You’ve spent the entire night getting close to me and getting to know me and now you just decide, meh, no, I’m over it? Did you finally decide I was too boring for you? Oh, sweet little (Y/N), she’s too nice for what I’m looking for...”

“That’s not what’s going on...” you tried

“No?” she questioned, getting closer to you as she spoke, “then what is going on? Tell me, I wanna know”

“Auston,” you sighed, “he wants to... ask you out”

“So...” she huffed, “he can ask but I won’t say yes”

“Why not?” you asked

“Because, I want you to ask me out, dummy,” she laughed, “I wouldn’t have followed you in here like a lunatic if I wasn’t interested in you!” You held your breath for a second as you took in what she said, closing the space between you quickly and pushing her against the wall, letting your lips move in sync with hers. Your heavy breathing filled up the space as you were forced to pull away from each other due to the sounds of drunken bar-goers banging on the door

“He can’t know about this...” you said, adjusting your shirt and fixing your hair, “Auston” you clarified.

“I know,” she replied, wiping away her smudged lipstick from your lips before looking in the mirror to adjust herself, “don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret.”

1 Year Later

When you and Freddie started dating, you agreed to keep it a secret because it was so new that neither of you wanted to screw it up but, truly, it was a wonder that you and Freddie had never been caught, by anyone, much less by Auston with the way you two were constantly touching each other in the smallest of ways or flitting off to be alone together.

“Maybe he’ll be okay with it?” you asked between kisses, continuing the conversation you’d had with Fred about Auston earlier, “it’s been a year...”

“He won’t be okay with it,” Freddie chuckled, moving his lips to your neck to leave trails of kisses over your skin, “he talks about you every time he sees you, every time you leave the room” you groaned in reply, distracted by the feeling of his tongue against your skin.

“Why do you want to tell him so badly?” he asked, pulling away suddenly, his hands lightly on your hips, and scrunched his eyebrows together

“I hate sneaking around...” you admitted, “I love you, Fred, but I hate lying. We’ve all become so close and the more time that goes by, the more he’ll feel like we betrayed him”

“Is that what you think?” he asked and you nodded, pouting in response, “no matter when we tell him, he’ll think we betrayed him. Because I told him I wasn’t interested and then I lied; he asked you out, you declined, he still decided he’d try to get you to fall for him”

“So what do we do?” you sighed

“We keep doing what we’re doing,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest, “don’t get caught.”

“What happens when we finally do get caught?” you questioned, cocking your eyebrow

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it...”

“Freddie...”

“What do you want me to say?” he threw his head back, dropping his hands from your waist to run them through his hair, “that, in order to throw Auston off, you should go on a date with him?”

“What?” you scoffed, “you really think that would work?” you leaned in and whispered, seriously considering the option

“I wasn’t serious!” he exclaimed, raising your arms in annoyance

“I don’t want to use him,” you said, hopping down from the counter where you were, “but maybe if we go on a date and he realizes that we’re not.. compatible, then he’ll drop it and we’ll be able to be together. Honestly. Without hiding.”

“(Y/N), baby,” he smiled, “you don’t need to worry about using him. Or being compatible. He’ll find a way to make you compatible so he can use you”

“He’s not going to use me...” you scoffed

“Yes he is” he scoffed back

“I don’t think so” you teased

“Baby, you forget. I know him. He talks to me. He told me what he wanted from you the night we all met,” you confessed, “Plus, he’s charming... He’ll find a way to get exactly what he wants without you realizing he’s doing it”

“You’re charming,” you smiled, grabbing his waist and pulling him close to you so you could wrap your arms around his neck, “way more charming than him”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t been with him one-on-one...”

“Then maybe I should,” you teased slightly, curling his hair with your fingers, “you know, just to prove you wrong?”

“Fine” he said sternly, pulling away from you. “Let him ask you out. Let him do exactly what he wants with you. Just so he can say he had you ‘cause that’s all he wants.”

“Freddie,” you chuckled, “It’s not like I’m not going to sleep with him.”

“You better not” you placed your hand on his cheek so he would look at you, smiling when you saw his sad puppy dog eyes

“I love you” you whispered before he leaned down and kissed your lips

“I love you, too.”

Auston’s P.O.V

You had been asking out (Y/N) for months. You couldn’t understand why she would be hanging around so much if she wasn’t interested but you persisted and she actually agreed

“Really?” you said quietly and she nodded in response, scrunching her eyebrows together with a sympathetic smile, “I mean, great! I’ll pick you up... Friday at 8″

“Perfect, see you then” she smiled before hugging you goodbye and turning on her heels. You spent the rest of the week trying to prepare for the perfect date but you weren’t even sure what that looked like

“Just take her somewhere nice,” Freddie suggested as the two of you sat in your living room, playing NHL20, “I wouldn’t put too much pressure on it”

“I don’t think you understand Fred,” you laughed, “I have been trying to get this girl to go out with me for an entire year. I’ve never worked this hard just to hook up with someone before”

“Why are you working so hard? It’s not like you’re hoping anything comes of it right? You just want to hook up with her because of the way she danced with you one night a year ago...” he pried

“No,” you replied, “but I’ve never been with someone like her”

“Someone like her?” he repeated and you furrowed your brow

“A nice girl. A sweet girl. An innocent girl..”

“You're really hung up on her being innocent aren’t you?” he asked

“Wh-- do you know something I don’t?” you laughed, “just tell me where I should take her”

“I don’t know...” he sighed, dropping his face in his hands, “just go somewhere casual... somewhere you can wear jeans and a t-shirt”

“You seem annoyed.. why are you annoyed?”

“I’m not annoyed.. I just have a bit of a headache. Look, just take her somewhere low-key. You’re not trying to impress her so you don’t need to work this hard. That’s it” he replied, standing up and walking out as the screen lit up to tell you that you won and you celebrated loudly, unbothered by Freddie’s departure. When Friday finally came along, you took (Y/N) to an outdoor patio for some drinks since the weather was getting a little bit nicer before eventually heading over to Tilt to play some games. The two of you were having some friendly competition and laughing with each other

“I can’t believe it’s so late!” she exclaimed, noticing the time on the clock on the wall, “we’ve been playing games for almost four hours!”

“No no, hold on,” you smirked, “you’ve been playing games. I’ve been dominating at every turn!”

“Oh yeah sure, hot shot,” she smiled, smacking your arm playfully. “Seriously, I think we should probably get going...” she whispered and you thought that this was your chance but she flipped it on you, “I promised my Mom I’d meet up with her -- she’s going through something at work...”

“I’m sorry to hear that” you said, rubbing her arm softly before catching her eyes dancing across your face. It felt like a moment that begged for a kiss but when she turned her head away, you had to let it go, “I’ll drive you home.”

“Thanks” she smiled before walking ahead of you toward the exit of the arcade. The ride home was silent aside from (Y/N)’s phone going off every five minutes or so

“Everything okay?” you finally asked, not wanting to intrude

“Yeah, sorry...” she sighed, “it’s just my mom. Trying to figure out when we’re going to see each other”

“I can take you to her place, if that’s easier?” you said

“No,” she replied, placing her hand on your knee briefly before pulling it away, as if she caught herself flirting and had to stop herself, “no that’s okay. I told her we’d meet at mine so she could get out of her house, but thank you.” When you pulled up in front of her apartment building, (Y/N) smiled over at you, “thank you, again, I had fun tonight...”

“Let me walk you in” you insisted and she agreed. You walked her to her door and stood there silently. Maybe this was just a ruse, you thought to yourself, maybe she wanted you to follow her inside. You leaned in and she hesitated, taking a breath before her eyes opened wide and danced between yours, before she took a tiny step forward. There was something in the way she looked at you that made your mind go completely blank and your body take over, connecting your lips with hers and leading her against the wall by her door. You let your hands wander from her neck to her waist as the kiss began to heat up and you could feel her breathing increase, leaving her chest heaving when you moved to kiss her neck

“Auston...” she breathed, pressing her hands into your shoulders, “Auston...”

“Should we go inside?” you smiled to yourself before continuing to kiss behind her ear

“I think we should stop...” she confessed

“Come on..” you replied, “your mom isn’t really coming over is she?”

“I just can’t... don’t think we should do this” she said, stumbling over her own excuse

“You don’t have to act so innocent” you smiled, leaning back down to kiss her neck

“What?” she said, pushing you away from her so she could look at you, “I’m not trying to act innocent. I just think we should stop. We had fun tonight, it was a good date but it doesn’t need to end with sex...”

“If it was good, why wouldn’t you want it to continue?”

“I--”

“Why would you lie?” you interrupted, starting to get angry

“Please don’t get angry...” she whispered, almost pouting at you, “I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea when I said it was late. That’s all...” You huffed at her reasoning before shrugging and turning to walk back to your car, looking back at her as she took a deep breath and walked into her apartment.

You were surprised at how much fun you were having. You expected Auston to take you to just invite you to his apartment so you could Netflix and Chill so he could make the move that Freddie was so convinced he was going to make, but when he took you to an arcade you were pleasantly surprised. The night was going really well, so when you noticed that it had gotten so late you realized you had to find a way to end the date but the only thing that came to your mind was to lie and say that your mom needed you. Auston seemed to be accepting of it and drove you home but Freddie kept texting you on the ride home and it started to raise flags to Auston

“Everything okay?” he asked

“Yeah, sorry...” you sighed, “it’s just my... mom. Trying to figure out when we’re going to see each other” you lied, replying to Freddie’s frantic texts asking what was happening

“I can take you to her place, if that’s easier?” he asked

“No,” you said quickly, placing your hand on his knee involuntarily before pulling it away to not give the wrong impression, “no that’s okay. I told her we’d meet at mine so she could get out of her house, but thank you.” He finally pulled up in front of your apartment building and thanked him, “I had fun tonight...”

“Let me walk you in” he offered and you agreed, thinking it was sweet, but unsure of what to say as the two of you walked to your door. He seemed to be fine with the silence, so you kind of just followed his lead before finally getting to your door, smiling at him awkwardly as you both continued to stand in silence. You noticed him lean in and you took a quiet breath, hesitating before you noticed how much closer he had gotten to you; becoming almost a deer in headlights as your eyes flitted between his. You unwittingly took a tiny step forward and his hands moved to your neck before his lips crashed into yours as his body directed you against the wall. His hands snaked down to your waist and your breath began to build in your chest as you felt the kiss begin to heat up. You found yourself thinking about Freddie, knowing that he knew where you were and who you were with and what he believed Auston’s intentions to be; but you couldn’t help but fall into his slow kiss, dragging your hands up his arms until they rested on his shoulders. This wasn’t supposed to happen, you thought to yourself, the date was supposed to end like this, he was just supposed to walk you to your door and go...

“Auston...” you said through heaving breaths, “Auston...”

“Should we go inside?” you could hear him smiling before he continued to kiss your neck and you shook your head pathetically

“I think we should stop” you said, still breathing heavily and pushing your hands into his shoulders

“Come on,” he smirked again, looking at you quickly, “your mom isn’t really coming over is she?”

“I just can’t...“ you stumbled, “don’t think we should do this”

“You don’t have to act so innocent” he whispered as he leaned back to lay kisses on your neck

“What?” you said angrily, pushing him away from you so you could finally see his face, “I’m not trying to act innocent. I just think we should stop. We had fun tonight, it was a good date but it doesn’t need to end with sex...”

“If it was good, why wouldn’t you want it to continue?” he questioned

“I--”

“Why would you lie?” he interrupted and you could tell he was starting to get angry

“Please don’t get angry...” you pleaded quietly “I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea when I said it was late. That’s all...” He huffed at you before turning on his heel and walking away from you; you composed yourself to unlock your door and head inside.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Freddie yelled as soon as you walked in the door

“Freddie?” you said, “what are you doing here?”

“I heard the two of you out there... kissing...” he admitted, “I knew he’d make his move”

“I don’t need this right now, please, just don’t” you sighed

“What’s wrong?” he replied, more sympathetic now as he followed you to the couch, kneeling in front of you to comfort you

“This was a mistake,” you admitted, “if we had just been honest with him, I wouldn’t have had to lie to him about all this. And he wouldn’t have made a move on me...”

“Baby,” he whispered, “this is my fault, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have agreed to letting you go out with him...”

“He was so mad, Fred. Like I could feel him seething” you sighed

“He’ll be fine,” Freddie said, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, tell him the truth” you frowned at him, unsure if that was the right move, but you wrapped your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. “I love you” he whispered in your ear before pushing the hair away from your face and kissing your eyelids gently, earning little giggles from you before you pecked his lips. It wasn’t long before he was drawing you close to him, your chest tight against his as he kissed your lips passionately

“I love you” you smiled when he pulled away from the kiss to remove his shirt, picking you up after he connected his lips back to yours, letting his tongue part your lips as your fingers played with his hair. He held you against the wall to remove your shirt, smiling at you biting your lip, leaning in to kiss you when the door flew open

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” Auston yelled

“Auston” Freddie yelled in surprise, putting you down gently and you frantically tried to cover your bra-clad body

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to hide yourself behind Freddie

“Is this why you wouldn’t invite me in? You already had someone inside?” he snarled, “I can’t believe I was so gullible, you’re really not innocent at all!”

“HEY!” Freddie yelled, stepping closer to his teammate but managing to keep you covered, “that’s enough! You never saw her as a person, only as a conquest. Stop being a dick.” You could feel Freddie’s muscles tensing in his arm as you held onto him, preparing for what Auston would say next

“Me? I’m the dick?” he scoffed in return, “she’s the one who’s going through us like candy wrappers!”

“STOP IT!” your boyfriend continued to yell

“I get it, Fred,” Auston smirked, “I mean I finally get it. You wanted to have something before me, that’s why you kept telling me not to try to sleep with her. You wanted her first. I get it.”

“Watch it” Freddie growled

“But now that you’ve had her, I think it’s time you drop the act. Let me have a turn...”

“ENOUGH!” you finally shouted, stepping out from behind Freddie, “you two are ridiculous. Auston, I’m sorry that I upset you but Freddie and I have been dating for almost a year now. I thought--”

“We thought” Freddie corrected, forcing you to look back at him

“We thought if I agreed to go on a date with you, you’d drop it and then we’d be able to come clean with you. But I didn’t expect you to kiss me...”

“You kissed me back!” he replied angrily

“I did,” you admitted, “I got caught up in the moment and I shouldn’t have but it doesn’t change anything. You don’t get to have a turn with me, I’m not a toy and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking that way” you waited for either of them to speak, but they remained silent. “I think you should both go. You can fight it out if you want, just not here.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)” Freddie whispered and you squeezed his outstretched hand in reassurance

“Just tell me one thing,” Auston sighed, looking between the two of you, “is this real? I mean, are you sticking around or are you gonna wait until someone else comes along?” You looked at Freddie once, a smile creeping across your face

“I love him,” you confessed, still looking at the tall, ginger man behind you, “it’s real for me”

“It’s real for me, too,” he replied with his eyes locked on yours until he finally looked at Auston, “I love her. We love each other. You weren’t supposed to find out this way but we didn’t know how to tell you...”

“You’re sure?” Auston asked, “that you both feel the same way about each other?” you both nodded before Freddie wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and kissed your temple. “Alright,” he sighed, dropping his head, “then I guess I’ll.. leave you to it” he forced a smile and walked out the door, leaving you feeling like you had to chase after him

“Auston, wait,” you called, “I really am sorry about all this”

“I know” he said

“You really were trying to play me though weren’t you?”

“At first, yeah,” he laughed, “but somewhere along the way, I realized you were too sweet to be played. Maybe it was the outfit you picked or the makeup you wore or the way you looked at me... or the lie you told...” he smirked when he remembered what you told him. “I don’t know what did it but I lost my nerve”

“You didn’t lose your nerve when you decided to kiss me” you teased

“Sure I did,” he scoffed, “because when I was kissing you it became about feeling you close to me and not... trying to get in your pants” you smiled at his words, feeling a tinge of heat rush through your body to your cheeks as if you were embarrassed

“For what it’s worth,” you finally said, “if you take a girl you actually like, not one you’re just trying to mess around with, on a date like tonight -- she’d be lucky to have you” he smiled tightly, his lips pressed together as if he didn’t really believe it, and continued making his way down the hallway. You hoped this wouldn’t cause problems between Fred and Auston but you were just happy the secret was finally out.

79 notes · View notes

comphersjost · 4 years

Text

masterlist ➸ comphersjost

new masterlist! my other one is quite old so i thought i’d start fresh :)

click here for my old masterlist, which has my teen wolf, marvel, shadowhunters, svu, and tvd fics

** indicates smut

HOCKEY

Calgary Flames

Matthew Tkachuk All For You series [feat. Brady Tkachuk] - completed Part 1* Part 2* Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 [finale]* 4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty told him for you

Colorado Avalanche

Mikko Rantanen

More Than This* You like bigger guys. And Mikko, well, he takes notice.

Ottawa Senators

Brady Tkachuk All For You series [feat. Matthew Tkachuk] - completed Part 1* Part 2* Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 [finale]* 4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty told him for you

Philadelphia Flyers

Nolan Patrick

Secrets - completed Part 1 Part 2* A sleepless night on your brother’s couch with his best friend proves that maybe your pining wasn't unrequited after all.

Travis Konecny

Happy** TK makes you happy, you just wish you could tell him how much.

Temptation** You walk in on TK in a…compromising position.

Toronto Maple Leafs

Auston Matthews

i don’t want this night to end (like you always did)** You’d think that after two years of hooking up when you’re in town, Auston would have mustered the courage to ask you to stay. Now you've moved to Toronto and it seems like he might finally have his chance. Based off of I Don’t Want This Night to End by Luke Bryan [lowercase intended]

Old Love [feat. Frederik Andersen]** Auston let you go once, and he’s never getting you back. Now he has to watch and see just how much Freddie owns you.

Connor Brown

Contact Four times you asked him to cuddle and the one time he asked you

Frederik Andersen

Old Love [feat. Auston Matthews]** Auston let you go once, and he’s never getting you back. Now he has to watch and see just how much Freddie owns you.

Rendezvous** As your childhood friend Auston helps you get settled in your new home city of Toronto, his goalie catches your eye.

Morgan Rielly

Hooked** You're a headstrong Ranger’s fan, and constantly running into the cocky captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs is really messing with your head. Based off of Hooked by Why Don’t We

Sugar Daddy!mo hcs Exactly what it says.

STAR WARS

The Clone Wars

Commander Wolffe

To Love is to Hurt [feat. Obi-Wan Kenobi] Part 2 Part 3

Obi-Wan Kenobi

To Love is to Hurt [feat. Commander Wolffe] Part 2 Part 3

OUTER BANKS

Rafe Cameron

Summer Fling** You and Rafe have a purely physical relationship. Turns out, he’s got lots more planned for you.

Not With You** You’re Kiara’s cousin from California, and you try to end things with Rafe when you visit this time around.

Vacation** When John B crashes your vacation with the Cameron’s you have to share a room, and bed, with Rafe, and it’s only so long before he gives into his urges.

Like It, Love It** It’s been a month, and you really don’t know how to tell Rafe Cameron that you can’t stop thinking about the way his dick felt in your ass.

Into The Storm** Rafe’s been helping you get over John B, and when you’re worried it’s going too far, you try to disappear into a storm, not knowing that Rafe would follow you anywhere. Based off of Into the Storm by BANNERS.

Fic recs

Concepts and blurbs

#:)#masterlist #my masterlist #my writing #hockey #nhl #imagine #smut #angst #fluff #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #fic rec #*concepts

331 notes · View notes

tysonbaerrie · 4 years

Text

A quick little Mitch Marner/Jack Campbell fluff fic for @austonandersen because it's tough being s leafs fan right now and I love her. 💙

When Freddie and Auston get together, Mitch is happy for them. Of course he is. They're his best friends and anyone could see how head over ass stupid gone they were for each other from space. So, when Mitch walks into his and Auston's apartment one night and finds Auston in Freddie's lap and his tongue down Freddie's throat, he's genuinely happy that they've finally figured their shit out. It's great, seeing two of the people he cares about most in the world happy. It's just...

Well...

Mitch is sure they don't mean to, but very quickly Freddie, Auston, and Mitch - three best friends - becomes Freddie and Auston, with Mitch the constant third wheel. They include him, and Mitch is grateful, but it's awkward and sad and...and Mitch is lonely.

He starts to make himself scarce. He knows it's shitty, but sometimes he finds himself watching Freddie and Auston, when they're doing something as simple as holding hands on the couch and Mitch wants that. He wants someone to hold his goddamn hand. He wants someone to run their fingers through his hair like Freddie does to Auston. Wants to rest his head on someone's shoulder while they do that. So, he forces himself to pull away, give the new couple space and himself space so he can get over this...this pining for someone that doesn't even exist. So he can stop this feeling before his jealousy turns into something bitter aimed at his two best friends.

When Freddie is injured, any bitterness he's held toward his best friends goes out the window. He stands next to Auston after the game, waiting for the trainers to tell them what's going on with Freddie. When they come back with words like neck injury and no real timeline he squeezes Auston's shoulder and helps gather Freddie's things, watches as Auston helps Freddie into the car with a care and attention that he rarely sees from Auston. He waits until they drive away, headed for Freddie's apartment, before he heads home himself.

Three days later, word comes down that they've made a trade, that a new goalie is coming to Toronto from the LA Kings. Mitch gets a text from JT that Jack Campbell is on the next flight out, and sends him Jack's number.

Hey, this is Mitch Marner JT gave me your number. Welcome to the Leafs!

Almost immediately, he gets a text back.

Hey thanks man! Excited to play with you!

Mitch smiles at his enthusiasm.

When Mitch shows up for optional skate, Campbell is already in net, and Mitch keeps an eye on him, tries to figure out his style. Frankly, he’s pretty amazing for someone who just flew across the country and is probably running on only a handful of hours of sleep. Mitch is impressed. He’s no Freddie, but he’s good, really good, and Mitch can see the relief on his teammates and coaches’ faces as they watch him block shot after shot. He’s solid and quick and exactly what they need while Freddie is out.

After practice, Mitch waits outside the locker room, fiddling with his phone. Campbell had stayed on the ice after Mitch had hit the showers, but had agreed to lunch as Mitch skated by the net. He’s lost in his Instagram feed when a pair of sneakers appear in his view. He looks up and...wow.

Wow.

Mitch is dumbstruck, because the man in front of him is definitely one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen in real life. He’s taller than Mitch, but not by much, with long hair and scruff that Mitch wants to rub his cheek against. He knows that Jack was traded from LA, but he literally looks like a movie star and Mitch can’t handle it.

“H-hey.” He finally stumbles out, and Jack smiles.

“Hey man! You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Mitch falls into step beside Jack, trying his best not to stare at the other man.

“How are you liking Toronto?” Mitch asks, a moment before he remembers that Jack has only been there for less than twelve hours.

“It’s great! I’m super stoked to be here. I mean, I’m sorry about the circumstances. Andersen’s a great goalie.”

“Freddie’s the best.” Mitch confirms, and Jack chuckles.

“Yeah, I heard you guys were tight. Sorry man.”

“He’ll be alright. But, I’m glad you’re here too.” Mitch feels the heat rise in his cheeks, and prays that Jack doesn’t notice.

By the end of Jack’s first game, Mitch is pretty sure he’s in love.

Jack is a beast, and Mitch wants to leap into his arms when the buzzer sounds. He settles for resting his helmet against Jack’s for a moment too long, locking eyes with him. He pats the top of Jack’s helmet, and he doesn’t think he imagines Jack’s gloved hand drifting slowly down his back as he pulls away.

He keeps catching Jack’s gaze in the locker room, both of them laughing as Auston does a victory dance across the room in nothing but a towel. Mitch only looks away when Jack starts to dress, but he feels a hand on his shoulder as he’s heading toward his car.

“Are you going out with the team?” Jack asks, and Mitch shakes his head.

“No, I’m beat. I was going to head home and binge some Netflix.”

“Yeah, same. Going to head back to the hotel I guess.”

“You could come over?” Mitch asks before he can stop himself. “I mean...if you want.”

The blinding smile that Jack gives him makes Mitch want to melt.

“How much longer are you going to be in a hotel?” Mitch asks once they’re in his car.

“Hopefully not too long. The sooner I get a place, the sooner I can get my cats back.”

“You have cats?” Mitch asks and, oh god, he has cats.

“Yeah, Buddy and Fettuccine. They’re awesome.”

Oh god. Mitch thinks. He has a cat named fucking Fettuccine.

Mitch is doomed.

He offers Jack a beer once they get to his apartment, and tries to ignore how good Jack looks sprawled out on his couch.

“Did Auston go out with the guys?” Jack asks as he takes the beer from Mitch.

“No, I think he left as soon as he was done with media. Probably worried sick about Freddie.”

“Oh, okay.” Mitch watches as Jack takes a sip, and how can he be this gone for someone he just met? “That doesn’t, like...bother you?”

“That Auston wants to go check on Freddie? Why would I care?”

“I heard…” Jack begins, then shrugs. “I thought you two lived together.”

“We do?” Mitch is well and truly confused. “Auston’s my best friend.”

“Oh, I thought...nevermind.” Jack’s picking at the label of his beer bottle now, and Mitch can’t get a read on him. What did he think...oh.

“You thought Auston and I were, like, together?” Mitch’s tone is incredulous even to his own ears until he’s overcome with laughter.

“Hey, it’s not, like, a ridiculous assumption!” Jack snaps, and Mitch shakes his head.

“No, it’s just...we’re not like that. I had a crush on Freddie for about five minutes after we first met, but Auston’s like my brother.” Mitch shakes his head at the very thought. “Besides, he and Freddie are very much, like, together.”

“That makes sense.” Jack finally says after a long moment. “So, that’s something that’s...accepted here?”

“I mean, people outside of the team don’t know. I don’t imagine it would go over well with the older, hardcore fans. But, yeah, the team’s cool.” Mitch really hopes that Jack is too. It’d be a shame to lose their new goalie as a friend so early in their time together.

“That’s good to know.” Jack seems contemplative, and Mitch decides it’s a good time to put on a movie.

Jack stays through a movie and a half, but Mitch falls asleep five minutes into the first one. Somehow he managed to move from one end of the couch to the other, his body subconsciously seeking out Jack’s warmth and forcing himself into the goalie’s space. When he wakes up, his head is against Jack’s chest and the man has an arm around his shoulders. It’s warm and comfortable and Mitch is absolutely mortified. He leans his head up and finds Jack staring down at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry.” Mitch grumbles. “I’m a sleep cuddler.”

“Not complaining.” Jack replies, using the hand around Mitch’s shoulders to squeeze him in tighter. “It’s nice. I should probably get back to the hotel, though.”

“Okay.” Mitch tries to ignore the slight chill he feels once he’s no longer pressed against Jack and follows him to the front door. He doesn’t really want him to leave, and Mitch realizes that’s a lot for a guy he just met and a new teammate to boot. When he looks back at Jack he’s staring at Mitch again, something that looks like nerves in his eyes as he shuffles his weight from foot to foot.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Jack.” Mitch tells him, and Jack huffs out a laugh.

“Me, too. I really think I’m going to be happy here.”

“I hope so.” Mitch finds himself leaning into Jack’s space and watches as Jack’s expression shifts from nervous to hopeful.

“Okay, if I’m reading this wrong, just tell me. But…” He trails off, but leans in until his lips brush Mitch’s, soft and chaste, and he pulls away almost immediately.

Mitch groans and grabs the collar of Jack’s shirt before he can get any further and pulls him back until they crash into each other.

Mitch lets Jack control the kiss, hands on Mitch’s waist as he pushes Mitch until he’s pressed against the wall. Jack kisses him slow and easy, like they have all the time in the world, and Mitch fights his natural instinct to push things further, make it go faster. They push and pull, give and take, Jack content to just kiss the life out of him for what feels like hours to Mitch. It isn't until Jack bites at his bottom lip, drawing a long moan from Mitch that Jack finally pulls away. Mitch's head hits the wall with a thud, and he stares at the ceiling as he struggles to catch his breath.

"Wow." He says after a long pause, and he looks back at Jack when he hears him chuckle.

“Yeah.” Jack agrees, pressing into Mitch’s space until he can rest his face in the space where Mitch’s neck meets his shoulder. Mitch gives in to the urge he’s had since he met the goalie and threads his fingers through his long hair, and smiles when he both hears and feels Jack hum contentedly.

“You wanna stay?” Mitch asks, and his stomach flips when he feels Jack nod against his neck.

Later that night, with Jack wrapped around him, plastered against his back, Mitch reaches for his phone and snaps a picture before he can think better of it, opening up his text chain with Auston.

Looks like I got a hot goalie boyfriend of my own. ;)

#my fic #mitch x jack #mitch marner #jack campbell #hockey rpf #sorry for the lack of a read more #i finished writing this on my way to the stars game

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lowkeyhockey · 5 years

Text

cat and mouse (for a month or two or three) - freddie andersen

Pairing: Freddie Andersen/Single Mother!Reader

Mentions: Mitch Marner, Nazem Kadri

Warnings: Curse words, slight sexual innuendo, two POVs

Word Count: 6.5k

Credits: @hockey-reblogs beta’d this for me, and like. thank g od IDEK what i did to deserve her help and support <3

Summary: Someone can’t wait to get on the ice, someone wants to meet up off the ice, and someone has an unexpectedly intense reaction to coffee. OR: a story of how you two met.

Writer’s Note: This is a standalone fic that’s a part of a bigger verse titled Can I Go (Where You Go) featuring [Y/N], a not-very single mother, Lila, your very opinionated daughter, and Freddie Andersen - a man very happy to be invited along for the ride.

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The first thing you notice upon arriving at the Mastercard Centre, your new training facility for the next five seasons (if your contract has anything to say about it) is the noise. The words sound about the same, shouts about cellys and sick dangles and benders and dusters, all the words North American players like to throw around to make it sound like they're from a generation older and greater than they are, but the pitch is - different.

A lot higher, for once, the voices a lot softer, and you're frowning even before you turn the corner to the Leafs' locker room. Mitch Marner and Nazem Kadri are standing near the doorway, Naz grinning in a way that you know from watching game tape means he's probably going to lay a hit on someone, and Marner looking - well - scared, but they're not looking that way at each other.

Which, is probably good. Mitch is as new to the Leafs as you are, which means you'd probably have to take his side against Naz, and you've seen Naz's hits. Game tape. It's weird to think of them as teammates now, with how you've memorized the slightest shifts in their stances to figure out split-seconds before the recoil of their stick exactly where the puck is going to go, but you're good at dealing with weird.

Dishing it out, taking it. Part of hockey, and part of being a goalie. You're not good at, however - you're not used to - dealing with the sight that had apparently frozen Naz and Marner into caricatures of themselves.

About thirty girls, give or take, all of them minors, in green tartan skirts and hockey skates and green and white sweaters. You wonder if the Leafs are taking another PC shift on the ice crew, though the girls aren't even in Leafs colours. But then you see that half the girls are holding hockey sticks, and suddenly you're feeling just as worried - worried, not scared - as Marner's obviously feeling scared.

You can't blame him, though. Kid looks about twelve, looks like a couple of the bigger girls could beat him up without breaking a sweat. He's probably worried about his voice cracking in front of them or something.

It's Naz who sees you first, shit-eating grin in full effect as he calls you over, but his voice is drowned out halfway through "Yo Andy, get over-" (which, thank you, but no) as a girl shouts, "motherfucker, get on the ice and I'll show you roughing."

And then you change your mind.

Naz cracks up laughing at the threat and you match Marner's smile, but a woman is there in the next heartbeat - this one, thankfully not in uniform, though you wouldn't mind seeing what she could do to a schoolgirl skirt - pinching the girl's nose in a way that you're almost certain isn't part of the school's disciplinary code.

Or maybe it was. California didn't have corporal punishment, and it didn't have school uniforms either, and judging by the way you were looking at the woman - the teacher? - up and down and trying to picture her in pumps and tiny skirt and blazer, with maybe a green ribbon in her hair, it was probably for the best.

The girl doesn't look like she's in pain or anything, so you wander over to the boys, trying to not make any sudden movements just in case the girls could smell fresh blood. "School trip, we're teaching them the ropes," Marner says to you before you could ask, and Naz's expression turns a little wry, his smile a little dry as he adds. "Private school girls, so make sure none of them breaks another nail or we could be looking at a lawsuit."

*****

You'd been helping one of the younger girls with her skates when you'd glanced up and saw Freddie Andersen - the Great Dane, the Ginga Ninja, the new goalie for the Leafs - approaching through a break in the cloud of girls, and you bite back a grin that was - okay, maybe a little mean.

But his furrowed brow-stoicism was an expression you knew well, from the faces of men who just didn't know what to do with a small army of girls - which, good. You girls can handle your own, which is a weird thought to have when you're on your knees in front of an apprehensive-looking sixth grader, but all the other girls had gotten each other laced up and strapped into protective gear and you wonder whether it was actually necessary for the headmistress to insist that the Leafs drop in to "show you the ropes", as it were.

It was a school in Canada, after all, and in Toronto to boot, where hockey wasn't so much a pastime as it was a minor religion. An open, accepting religion - you could be both practicing Christian, or Muslim or whatever and a Leafs fan. There was a reason why games aren't scheduled for the same time as Sunday Mass, or Friday prayers.

God and the NHL both knew which one people would rather attend.

But Branksome Hall's new to allowing hockey to be played and not just watched at the school, and having been a hockey fan for most of your life (not to mention a young and new teacher, which made you an easy target for assignments such as these) you were an obvious pick to get girls into the sport.

You probably won't have a school team this season, but it's always nice to get girls on the ice, and your girls could always use an outlet for their excess energy (not to mention aggression).

Brianna's all talk and you tell her that, giving a last, gentle tug on her nose before she pushes you away, laughing, and you turn to the boys just in time to hear the tail end of Nazem Kadri's words.

Which, ouch. But not at all wrong, and it's your turn to laugh, though Madame Mercier - who's just as suddenly by your side - is looking considerably less amused.

"Branksome Hall takes the health and safety of our girls very seriously," she says, her French accent - French, and not Quebecois, she'd remind anyone with a faux-haughty look on her face and a twinkle in her eyes - thicker than it usually is, and you jump in to alleviate the tension before the boys could apologize - or very pointedly not apologize.

"We do, but we also understand how dangerous skating and hockey can be, and the girls and their legal guardians have all signed the disclaimers we've passed along to your organization," you say with a smile - not the practiced one you hold in reserve for overbearing parents, because god only knew what you'd do if you ever ran out of those - but something easy and warm.

You'd been an athlete yourself, when you were in school, and you hadn't gone to a school like Branksome Hall, where the Board of Governors could up and decide to introduce a new sport to the school and then have the pull to have some of the best athletes in the sport go and teach it to the girls themselves. Never mind that it's still off-season, and that the boys would probably rather be in board shorts than hockey gear.

You're just you, a little messy, a little too casual, you have nothing of Madame Mercier's dignified grace as you offer your hand out to the newcomer. Frederik Andersen, who's all ginger scruff in the early light of day, brown eyes looking a little wary even as he takes your hand.

His hand's large, because of course it is, and a little rough, because of course it is, and you feel an impulse to sandwich it between your own for a full study. But a smaller hand covers the back of it before you could embarrass yourself, yanking both your hands down -

and you look further down to see Lila coming out from behind Mitch Marner's legs, all toothy grin despite the fact that she was clearly feeling ignored, and you laugh again. "Sorry about that," you quickly say, dropping the goaltender's hand and dropping to your knees to scoop up your little girl.

Mitch, sweet boy that he is, reaches out to tickle her sides, and you suppose you're thankful that he's learned his lesson about having his hands too close to her teeth.

"I'm [Y/N L/N], and this is my daughter, Lila." Lila frees one of the arms you'd pinned to her sides in an attempt to stop her from squirming out of your arms to give the man a wave, looking almost shy, and Freddie in turn - surprise fading into something that almost looks like shyness, too - reaches out to pat her head, as though copying his teammate.

God, if you were just unlucky enough the boys might come to see Lila as some kind of lucky charm to be fussed over or petted, like a team mascot in tiny human form. It seemed a little far fetched, but you know hockey players and how superstitious they could be, and you turn around to pass Lila off to your nanny before any of your dire predictions could come into fruition.

When you turn back around, Freddie's hand is still hovering in midair, and you can't help but raise an eyebrow at him, watching a flush slowly spread across his cheekbones as though in slow motion. He looks so dumb, looks something like a piece of art. You'd title it: hockey player vs social situations or something like that.

You squash the urge to paint him.

"Frederik Andersen, right?" you ask, because he hasn't introduced himself, and smile encouragingly when he nods, feeling like you were talking to one of your younger girls.

"Call me Freddie," he says, and you grin, turning to include the other boys in it.

"Freddie, Mitch, and Naz," you say as though to check their names, though of course you know them all. "Thank you guys so much for coming, I'm sure all the girls are going to love this. Now, are you guys ready to meet the next group of miracles on ice?"

A little kitschy, a little corny, but Mitch is grinning back at you, and Naz is looking amused, though you suspect that with the latter that's pretty much his default expression. Freddie's not looking at you, though, and you follow his gaze to the near-empty corridor, wondering if he's looking for an escape route - but no, he's watching Emilie and Lila.

And you feel - jealous? Emilie's very pretty, and she's so good with Lila, and you were only expecting two hockey players with you today and not three and - Frederik Andersen could do whatever he wants, really, it's nothing to do with you.

Naz gives you a light punch on the arm, like you're a part of the team, though you're just a teacher for the group of girls he's been made to babysit. "Lets get at it, coach," he says, as he follows Mitch to the entrance of the rink, and you give Lila a small wave before following suit

Madame Mercier doesn't even own skates and she's not about to start trying it at fifty-two, and Freddie Andersen - you realise, then, that he hadn't even been wearing skates. He was still in his coat, for god's sake - he was taller than you even though you're in skates so you hadn't noticed.

But then the girls are calling for you, tapping their sticks against the ice where they all stand in a loose circle on center ice, and you and Mitch and Nazem hurry up to join them.

*****

"Freddie," you repeat to the little girl, all brown, windswept curls and a grin that takes up about half of her face, and her hazel eyes look like they understand but all she does is blow a raspberry at you. And then giggle, like it's the funniest thing in the world, and maybe it is, because her nanny laughs too.

Emilie, she'd said her name was, in the same accent that the strict-looking teacher had. The one that wasn't [Y/N]. You didn't even realise that you hadn't asked her name, and now she's ignoring the three of you, leaning against the glass like she's worried one of her girls might actually break another nail.

"She's only three, Mr. Andersen," Emilie says to you, and that Lila decides to repeat, the lisped "three!" sounding jubilant in her voice. Emilie smiles down at her, expression so fond, and you can see why. "She has one month before she turns three," Emilie corrects herself, as though the one month makes a difference, and you nod a little dumbly because maybe it does.

"She looks a little older," you say, though she doesn't. "She looks smart." And she does. There’s something assessing in her gaze, more curiosity than shyness or fear.

You've always liked kids, but they've always looked a little fragile, especially compared to you. And the kids you usually meet are excitable boys either starting out in or already playing hockey, eager to show the world that they have what it takes.

And Lila's just staring at you with her large hazel eyes, squirming for a moment before she suddenly flops back, body going limp all over until her nanny relents and sets her down on the floor. Her little shoes squeak with each step, and you both watch her as she makes her way - just as determined as any young boy you've ever met - to the rink entrance.

"Too smart," Emilie says with a smile, and you grin as Lila drops to the ground in a deliberate collapse, patting both of her hands against the ice. It looks like she doesn't want to walk in - she's ready to crawl in instead, but Emilie is on her in the next heartbeat, scooping her up and pressing kisses against her little face.

"No, silly, your maman said to stay here," she tells Lila.

You take the chance to step in then and say, "I can take her in, she'll be safe with me," but the look Emilie shoots you is arch, a little too knowing, and you feel heat rise on your cheeks again.

"If her maman wanted the little one on the ice she'd take her herself, non?" But her grin turns friendly again as she tilts her head to the ice, before swinging around so that Lila isn't pushing out of her arms to take matters into her own tiny hands. "Now go, before her maman wonders why I'm keeping you."

And you're fairly certain that this isn't in your schedule, that no one's expecting you to stay, but you already have your gear and skates in your bag and you wanted to get some solo training in before training camp, anyway, so.

You go.

*****

He's easy on his feet, you realise with a pang. Quiet. You hadn't even realised that he was standing right behind you until Wei Yan slammed into his side, not hard enough to make him stumble, but enough to catch your attention, making you turn around with a slight frown.

She's not at all apologetic about it, grinning as she says, "inertia" as though that alone's an explanation, even though it isn't. Freddie's looking down at her like he doesn't quite know what to do with a fifteen year old girl suddenly attached to his side and spouting Newtonian principles at him, which, fair.

The girls love to show off what they'd learned in class - little teachers' pets, all of them, and you could relate - and usually, it makes you smile. It means you've done a good job. Nut somehow inertia is always the first thing they remember, probably because it allows them to do things like this, and you can't have them breaking the new Leafs goalie before he's even broken in yet. God knows the Leafs need a good man in the crease.

"Goon," you shoot back at her, waving your hands like you're shooing off some stray chickens. And you might as well be - wherever Wei Yan led, the rest of the girls usually followed, and soon there'd be no one doing the skating drill you had set up.

Mitch was in the far end of the rink, coaching most of the girls through puck-handling drills, and Naz is on center ice dropping face off puck after face off puck while girls battled for dominance. You could see his grin from here, delighting in the role he's getting to play in the chaos.

When Wei Yan doesn't move, leaning against Freddie's side and giving him a narrow eyed look that he seems intent on returning in full measure, you skate over to them to give her a gentle nudge. "Shoo, you know how hockey players feel about a hit on their goalie," you tell her, and she turns to face you, grin unnervingly like Kadri's.

"There's no D-men on the ice," she points out, sly, and it takes Freddie by surprise - the laugh he lets out is over-loud, and it looks like the sun had broken out just over his face.

You're soon giggling too, more from the sound of his laughter than anything else, and Wei Yan skates away looking smug.

Silence stretches after that but it's not awkward, not really, the two of you watching as Wei Yan lands another hit - this time against Marie, who's a full head shorter than her and maybe fifteen pounds lighter, but she's so gentle about it that you can't help beaming.

They're good girls, and you're so proud of them, and you're so happy that the school's letting them have this outlet.

Freddie's apparently thinking along the same lines because when he breaks the silence it's to ask, voice light but sounding just a hint too serious to be properly teasing, "you went to all the trouble of bringing Lila to the rink and won't even let her skate?"

You turn to him with brows raised, more amused and curious than annoyed by the personal question, and he smiles a little at you, as though encouraged by your expression. "Seems a little mean, is all," he explains, and you laugh.

"My dad's a diehard Leafs fan," you explain. "He'd never forgive me if I didn't bring her. But she's still a little too young for skates. "

There's a beat of silence, and it looks like he's studying you now, as though he's memorizing the planes of your face the way you'd tried to memorize his hand, and you're already blushing - your gaze sliding from his eyes to his lips - when he asks -

"Would he forgive you if you said no to the Leafs' new goalie taking you out for coffee?"

And the colour's exploding over your face in full force, now, you could feel even the back of your neck getting warm, it's like you've never been asked out before. And you might be a single mom but you're only twenty-six and still attractive, still in full possession of a sex drive, thank you very much, you're clever and you're articulate and you're athletic.

You shouldn't be staring up at him looking like you'd just finished a 5k on the treadmill, mouth in a flat line, arms crossed across your chest.

He shouldn't be looking down at you, looking somewhere between confused and mortified, but god that was such a pro hockey player question - I have money, I have fame, I can hit a puck really, really hard, wanna come home with me?

And he'd just been talking about your daughter - Lila, of all people, who absolutely doesn't deserve to be around more hockey players. Once burned and all that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Freddie finally bursts out, and you shake your head.

"Of course you didn't, Mr. Andersen, I apologize if there's been any confusion," you say, and you know you're using your stern teacher voice, and now he's looking down at you like he doesn't know who you are.

Which, of course he doesn't. He doesn't know why you're so opposed to - well, if not hockey players, then hockey players pulling what he'd just tried to pull.

And you would have let it drop at that but he's moving just a little closer, brows furrowed, looking contrite. "I didn't, I'm not trying to use my position to ask you out. I'm just - I was trying to be funny."

He looks half- in pain is the thing, and you believe him. You can certainly believe he's not the best at being funny. You relax a little, make a show of untensing, giving him a small smile and putting a hand on his arm. " It's fine, really. It's just that I'm working - and I have Lila."

Not that Lila's really an excuse, with the full-time nanny Sid hired and pays for. But Freddie doesn't need to know that.

"Can I make it up to you?" he asks, and he still looks like you'd kicked a puppy, and he looks softer than you're prepared for. But when he continues, words tumbling over themselves in the rush to be said, "I can get you tickets for the opening game, you said your dad's a fan and you can bring Lila -"

you shake your head, laughing. "I said it's fine, and my dad has season tickets anyway." Honestly, you think it's the biggest family heirloom your family has to your name.

He looks like he believes you, he looks like he's relaxed somewhat, and he looks like he's not some pro-athlete dick so you even tease him with an "I'm sure I'll come and see you sooner or later, see if you're any good,"

and if it sounds like flirting it's possibly because you are, just a little.

But he's smiling back at you, looking like you'd given - well, not a puppy, but maybe a dear friend - CPR, and you find yourself smiling back.

And become aware, in the next moment, that the girls closest to you have stopped doing their drills, and are looking at the two of you just smiling at each other like idiots with expressions that ranged from surprise to delight. Which meant that Madame Mercier was probably watching, too, even if you both had your backs to her - which meant you had to disguise what you'd been talking about.

"But if you still want to make it up to me," you say to Freddie, voice low, not waiting for him to reply before you skated to the girls. "Line up, ladies, Mr. Andersen's going to get in goal for you. Make sure you show off a little, eh?"

And the sound of his laughter from behind you, the quiet swish of his skates as he moves to set up between the posts, makes you smile.

*****

You go to all the pre-seasons game you have the time to attend with your dad, and once with Emilie, though the poor girl ended up with a headache from all the noise. You - you were in your element, in your old Sundin sweater that still hit you about mid-thigh, usually with blue lines painted under your eyes even though it was just the preseason.

After your first game, a young man with a Leafs intern lanyard comes over to your seat with a puck and a kids' jersey, and you're frowning just a little until he tells you that they're both from Marner. You ask the kid to give Marns your number, so you can thank him personally, and when he texts you later that night he tells you that he's just excited to have someone wearing his number in the coming season.

He's just a sweet kid, and you thank him about ten more times, and you take it to mean that you're going to have to bring Lila in for a game sooner or later. You'd enjoyed watching Marns while he was with the Knights, and you're definitely looking forward to rooting for him on the Leafs - and Freddie, too.

But he doesn't look at you. Freddie, that is.

Not during warmups and definitely not during the games, you don't think he sees anything but the puck and there's something almost magical about that degree of hyper-focus.

It's the night before opening night when he seems to remember that you exist - and it's Marns texting you, not Freddie, and at first you ignore it because Marns has taken to texting you memes you can barely understand, though the girls at your school giggle when you pass it on to them. You won't let him contact any of the girls directly - it would be unprofessional for you to give away any of your students' numbers, and none of them ask you for his - but he seems proud of being the girls' favourite coach.

(The girls still practice at the Mastercard Centre, and you're the one chaperoning them more often than not, but with the season coming underway the boys are no longer obligated to show up - the school's hired their own skating and puck-handling coaches, and even a goalie coach though Melanie's the only one interested in getting between the posts, and she far prefers when Freddie's the one to help her.)

When you finally reach for your phone, deciding that a social media break's allowed after three straight hours of grading physics papers, you're surprised to see a closeup shot of Freddie in his goalie mask - eyes narrowed and staring at you through the grill and phone, like he sees exactly what you're doing and he doesn't approve. It's a little intimidating, more than a little hot.

You wonder what Marns has done to piss him off - and why Marns decided to send it to you - but the text that pops up after you reply with a simple "???" just says - "he's wondering why u haven't brought lila yet."

Which, weird. Also, flattering. Also, weird. You hadn't even been aware that he's noticed that you're there at all.

"so he can eat her?" you shoot back, grinning a little down at your phone, and marns replies in the next instant with

"maybe"

then:

"rude tho"

then:

"y don't u ask him urself"

You shoot back a "he didn't ask ME himself", even though it feels at this point like you're two kids passing notes in class, and you're judging yourself for it hard when your phone dings thrice with more text messages.

From Marns:

"can u imagine freddie taking a selfie"

and then:

several barf emojis, and you don't know why, because Freddie has a pretty decent face

and

from an unknown number:

"Why haven't you brought Lila to any games?"

When your phone dings again, a few seconds later, you see several frowning emojis from the same number, and you hate how you can picture exactly, in your mind's eye, the way Freddie could be frowning at you right then.

You save his number under "F.And, L", knowing how hockey players - at least the ones you know - value their privacy, and you wouldn't want his number to get leaked if you somehow lose your phone. Marns is just saved under a frog emoji, and he seemed inordinately pleased about that when you'd told him.

"Too loud for her," you send back to Freddie, and before you could think twice about it, you send Marns several sweat droplets emojis. You are a teacher - if anyone asks, you could say that you had no idea what they meant, you just know that that's what the kids are texting nowadays.

"Marns is going to be disappointed," Freddie replies, and you're disappointed - despite yourself - because he didn't say that he would be disappointed.

Another two dings, another two texts, and it's Freddie saying "We'll have to get her in for a practice," while Marns just fills your whole screen with more barfing emojis.

You shoot them both the okay emoji, and then tell them that you need to get back to work.

When you check your phone again before bed, there's two text messages, both of them from Freddie.

The first: "Good luck with your work, and sweet dreams"

And then a picture of him, light spilling over him from a bedside lamp, duvet halfway up his bare chest. He looks a little tired, a little shy, but he's smiling up at the camera.

A selfie. You wonder what else Marner has told him.

And you save the picture.

*****

The boys win the first home game of the season, and you couldn't make it because Lila's down with a cold but you send Marns a selfie of you and Lila in Leafs jerseys in front of the TV - you wearing Sundin's number and grinning wide, Lila in Marner's and opening her mouth to show him a mouthful of chewed-up mashed potatoes. You figure it's not too different from a picture of unchewed mashed potatoes, and besides, you're just happy that she's eating.

Marns sends back a shot of him flashing a peace sign, flushed with good spirits and (you're pretty damned sure) alcohol he's barely old enough to be drinking, and the way he angles the camera makes you think he's trying to hide the fact that he's in a bar.

Which, dumb, but you pass along the congratulations the girls text you to send to him, and there's almost thirty of them, and by the time you're done Freddie's message to you has been waiting for several minutes, unopened.

"Thanks for the congratulations," it says, even though you didn't send him one, and you giggle as you lean back to reply.

"sorry! had to pass on messages from mitchy's fans first, and there's a lot of them."

Freddie: "Yeah? And who were you rooting for?"

"david pastrnak," you reply, grinning to yourself as you did it.

and then before he has time to get into a sulk: "guy has to be a superhero to have gotten one past you"

He doesn't reply anyway, not for a good half hour, and you switch the tv to a golf tournament with the volume on low, because of course that's what Lila falls asleep to best.

And then, from Freddie: "Guess that makes me your kyptonite."

Which, okay, he isn't wrong.

You're not sure how to reply - you guess this means that he's at least a little bit into you, and he knows you're at least a little bit into him, and - you're not sure how to reply.

"you're not wrong," you text him. And then, like a coward, but at least an honest one: "i need to go and tuck lila in. make sure you drink lots of water before bed x"

And he sends you a goodnight text, tells you to tell him if Lila's not feeling better in the morning, as though there's anything he can do about it anyway.

When you wake up the next morning, there's a text from Marns sent at around three am that says, "YOOOOOO WAS TAT SMOOTH OR WHAT"

Which, okay, he's not wrong.

*****

The boys go through a losing streak like it's nobody's business. Which, is disappointing, but it's the Leafs, and Toronto's a city that's grown accustomed to it. After a home win against Florida that they barely managed by the skin of their teeth (which, it's Florida) Freddie's on your doorstep instead of celebrating at some bar or another, or maybe sleeping the adrenaline off.

You raise your eyebrows at him, don't move aside to let him in even though you'd known he was the guy at the door when you'd looked through the peephole, and you'd gone and opened the door anyway. He looked rumpled, exhausted, hair a mess but not covered in product - like he'd gone for a shower after the game and then left, not even bothering to swing by his place to change out of his game day suit.

And you're in your Leafs jersey still, it's practically a dress on you so you didn't bother slipping any pants on, and the TV's still quietly going over game recaps.

You know this, the look on him, even though you've never seen him this way. He racks up a loss, takes it all on his own shoulders, won't let anyone take some of his burden or even see any of his pain. You've lived this, just not with him, and you're not in the mood for dealing with a moody hockey player.

It's Lila's birthday tomorrow, and Marns' already said he would come, and he's asked if he could bring some of the boys with him, too. He hadn't mentioned Freddie, and neither had you - Freddie's been on radio silence since the loss against the Hawks, third in a streak that didn't seem like it was going to end. That had been five days ago, which

You're a big girl, you can take it.

But you don't particularly want to expose Lila to it.

"Look, I know I've been stupid," he starts, the creases in his brow deepening when he sees you're not going to start shit, but he falls silent when you shake you head.

"Don't make a martyr of yourself, Freddie." It comes out sounding short, impatient, you're a little tired yourself and it's late.

And it hurts, just a little, him showing up here and now like you're some kind of fair weather-only friend. You're not even a fair weather fan, or you sure as shit wouldn't still have your Leafs jersey.

He looks confused, though, raising one hand to rest against the frame of the door, and leans in, like proximity would help. That, or he's too tired to stand straight, which. Idiot.

"You lost, and you went and licked your wounds in private. It's fine." You pause, consider that, and decide to go for something a little more honest. "Or it's not fine, I missed you, but if that's what you need to do to get your head on right for your next game then I can live with it."

You're a big girl, you've survived worse things.

"I'm sorry," he says, and you smile, because - that's one you've never heard before. And you didn't think he'd understand, either, how you needed an apology and not a self-lashing from him, because the latter's designed to make you feel sorry for him more than anything else.

Which, you already do. Idiot.

You open the door wider, but instead of letting him in you step forward to wrap your arms around him, feeling him do the same to you - one across the back of your shoulders and one around your waist, warm, solid weights holding you in place for a long moment.

"I know you were worried about me, I shouldn't have put you through that, all I needed to do was pick up the phone." He pulls back, then, to look you in the eye, and your right hand slips higher to settle on the nape of his neck, to keep him there.

"Idiot," you tell him, but you're grinning, and in a moment he's grinning back. "You can come on in. I'm almost done getting things ready for Lila's birthday party tomorrow."

"Can I help?" he asks, but you brush the offer aside, leading him through the hallway and into the living room, where you give him another push until he's settled on the couch.

"Beer's in the fridge, if you want, and Lila's already in bed. We have a spare room if you'd like to use it." He looks a little concerned at that - and, yeah, maybe you are being a little too forward - but you flash him another grin.

"What, you're making it up to me, right?" You ask him, voice teasing. "So you're going to do all the barbecuing for the party tomorrow."

He smiles back at you, but then the smile slowly fades, and he says again, sounding like he has to, "I'm sorry. I needed time to myself, but we're - friends, and- "

"You shouldn't have gone full radio silence?' You shake your head, amused, but Freddie's still looking at you like you might throw a temper tantrum, so you move to sit on the couch beside him, stretching out your legs so that your feet rested in his lap.

Physical contact helps. Open communication helps. The slow massage he was giving your left foot definitely helps. After a few minutes: "I was upset, but it's just five days, Freddie. I've gone into radio silence for longer just because I had an assignment due." You give him a nudge with your other foot and he takes the hint, switching feet. "We're still friends," you tell him, the emphasis on the last word unmistakable, and you watch him colour up a little.

"Are you free next weekend?" He blurts out, like you figured he would, and you shake your head, biting back a smile.

"Nope, I'm chaperoning a school dance."

"Can I chaperon with you?"

And there's no biting back the laugh you have to let out at that, hand covering your mouth so it doesn't wake Lila, and Freddie's looking halfway between amused and embarrassed.

"The school isn't usually okay with having strangers attend our private school functions. Why don't you come out for coffee with me instead? Say, after your game on Tuesday, even if you lose?"

The smile he gives you is something like watching the sun coming out, or maybe you're just feeling warm, but either way you'd have liked to be closer to him.

And then - voice teasing - "last time I asked you out for coffee you tried to snap my neck."

Which, fair, and you shrug a little even as you shift closer, so that you're sitting on the seat beside his on the couch, your bare thighs across his lap. His arm slips down from where it had rested along the back of your couch to around your waist, which. Feels nice. "Nah. Last time it was this kinda arrogant Ducks trade who'd asked me, and I wasn't even sure if he's any good between the posts."

A misstep, maybe, because his brows are creased again, and you have an urge to smooth it out with your thumb so you do just that. "So you want to go out with a good goalie," he says, something so uncertain in his voice, something sad in the way he looks down as you as though braced for the worst. Idiot.

You kiss his cheek, because you can't help it, then the corner of his lips - pulling back before he could kiss you properly, grinning a little as you drop one last kiss on the tip of his nose. "Yeah, but I'm hoping that's not all you're good at."

#freddie andersen #freddie andersen imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #v:can i go (where you go)#lyss writes hockey

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not-another-hockey-blog · 5 years

Note

I hope you don't mind me coming into your inbox, but what's the best NHL fan fic you've ever read and what's the best one you've ever written?

Of course not, everyone is welcome here!

I can’t pick just a singular one that is the best I’ve read because there are so many but I do love the writings of @manrocket-mo, @babrielandeskog and @2-fast-2-curious!

And best one I’ve ever written...Either Min lille blomst with Freddie Andersen or The battle on the bed with Kappy!

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halliewriteshockey · 5 years

Note

There's quite a few Frederik Andersen/Connor Brown fics if you like the Leafs. That's one of the few goalie/forward fics I've seen.

Oh yeah, you’re right! I’m not really a Leafs fan, but my darling @spoodle-monkey is and I’ve beta’d more than a few of her Freddie/Connor fics, thanks for reminding me!

#I do enjoy the gingers #hockey rpf #Leafs #Anonymous #remember that time Brownie got squashed #and Freddie promptly crushed the guy next chance he got #here for it tbh

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | 1

A/N: The prologue has 150+ notes...I can’t believe what a positive response it got! Thank you so much for your support, comments, DMs, likes, reblogs, and tags! It means the world! Enjoy the first chapter :)

She could be at Early Mercy.

It was all Frederik could think about as he tried to celebrate Bee McTavish’s birthday. She could be here. She could be one of these people that keep looking at us, that keep brushing up against Auston and I trying to get our attention. She could be one of their friends. She could be in the washroom. She could be coming, on her way now to Early Mercy, and she might walk through the door and I’ll see her. It could happen.

That wasn’t to say that Fred wasn’t present and in the moment; having fun with his friends and celebrating Bee and her 24th year of life by buying drink after drink at the bar; but in the back of his mind, constantly, for the last three months – almost four – was the thought that in a random location in Toronto, in a random building, in a random place, he would lock eyes with the girl he’d seen in the middle of the night at Shopper’s Drug Mart and finally find out who she is, why she was crying, and why he was so devastatingly transfixed by her.

Fred had tried to find out who she was since then, almost obsessively so. He was a man mesmerized and he needed to know. He had tried to get the name of the band that performed at the function by contacting the heads of the charity, the head of public relations, the human resources manager, the man who answered the 1-800 call desk, even the poor accounts payroll manager whose email was listed on the charity’s website, but nobody would divulge the information. He wasn’t allowed to know. They weren’t under the discretion to divulge that information publicly (even though it was a public event). He contacted the photographer who ended up uploading photos of the night onto his professional website (not one photo of her uploaded – what a load of shit), who expressed he couldn’t remember the name. He tried remembering the members of his table that he had to schmooze with who could have picked up the name – nothing. He scoured Instagram – the hashtags, the other girls that were there, the profiles, the tagged photos, the socialites he didn’t socialize with just to see if they had a picture with her or mentioned her by name. He asked Brendan Shanahan if he knew. He asked Kyle Dubas if he knew. He asked every Leaf that was there that night if they caught the name, if they spoke to any of the members, if they took a picture, if it was in the background of another picture, if they remembered any minute detail that would give him a lead.

Nothing.

His chest has been permanently tightened for almost four months now. He needed to know. He needed to find her.

“Serena’s here,” Auston’s voice interrupted Fred’s thoughts as he slammed his empty glass – his fourth of the night, at least – onto the bar beside Fred.

“Who?”

“Serena – Serena!” he emphasized. Fred’s face was still blank. “Serena DaCosta, dude,” Auston said. “Remember…we were hooking up a while back…”

“Oh. Right.”

Auston looked at his friend skeptically. “Dude, come on.”

“What?”

Fred could see the gears shifting in Auston’s head pulling him in two different directions. Fred wanted to stop him. Usually when this happened to Auston, it pulled him into conspiracy theory territory. “Bro…you…you’re not hung up on Bee, are you?”

“NO!” Fred screamed, a look of disgust on his face. “Jesus fucking Christ, Auston, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What?! You can’t blame me for thinking it!” he tried to defend himself. “Anytime she’s not in sight you look like someone ran over your dog.”

It’s because I’m looking for somebody. And I can’t do that when the birthday girl is around. “You’re a fucking lunatic. And I know that’s the alcohol talking,” Fred shook his head.

“Then why do you look like someone ran over your dog?!” Auston persisted. “The city’s hottest girls are in this damn club right now practically lining up to hook up with you and you seem to not give a fuck because of…what? Hmmm?” Auston waited for an answer dramatically, sticking out his head, raising his eyebrows, and pursing his lips slightly. “You can’t hate me for wondering.”

“Yes, I can.”

“So what’s the reason, then?”

“There’s no reason,” Fred shook his head again, taking a sip from his drink and hoping Auston would just end it.

But of course, that wasn’t the case. Auston always had to explore the other side of the gears shifting in his brain – the non-conspiracy theory side. The side that was – unfortunately – usually right. “Wait a second…” Auston narrowed his eyes. “Oh…dude.”

“What?”

“You’re not still hung up on that girl, are you?”

The hairs of Fred’s neck stood on end. “What girl?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Auston said. “The girl you’ve been obsessed with the last three months. From the charity event. That you haven’t been able to find.”

Fred didn’t mean to hesitate – he really didn’t. But in his simple hesitation and shaking his head and stuttering out a “N – No,” Auston had him, Auston won, and Auston knew he was right.

“Brooooooo,” Auston threw his head back in disdain for Fred. “Let. It. GO!”

“Fuck off, Auston.”

“Are you honestly going to be hung up on her for the rest of the year? For the rest of your life?” Auston kept asking. “It’s already been three months, Fred. You couldn’t find her. You can’t find her. It’s a lost cause. You can’t let this dictate your life. You’ve gotta…you’ve gotta move on. If it was meant to be you would have found her already, and you haven’t.”

“Thanks, Auston,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, man. Think about it. You can’t get hung up on this girl when you don’t even know her name. There’s so many other things you could be spending your time on, so many other girls you can be paying attention to, that can be paying attention to you, but you can’t even see it!”

Before Auston could continue his lecture, the girl Freddie could only presume to be Serena DaCosta appeared behind Auston. Her long, wavy blonde hair and plump lips spread into a smile enticed Auston automatically. “Hey,” Auston smirked.

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy yyyoooouuuuu,” she drawled out flirtingly, giving him an unsolicited and dramatic kiss on the cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for a friend’s birthday,” Auston said.

“Anybody I know?” Serena asked. Fred could see the rest of her group of friends approaching them. He held his breath.

“No,” he said sharply. Auston knew better than to mention Bee’s name in front of girls like this, after what happened. Not that he ever did, though, because Auston was somewhat protective of Bee too and didn’t want these types of girls even knowing about her. “What are you doing here?”

Serena shrugged her shoulders. “Just had a feeling that I should be out tonight,” she said, her eyes flashing towards Fred. “Hey Freddie.” Fred nodded towards her as he took another sip of his drink. He didn’t even bother. When her friends approached them, he clocked out altogether. Serena got the hint. “Auston, you remember Jessy and Rachel and Loren?”

“Hey ladies,” Auston winked at them, not remembering them at all.

“Catch you later,” Fred said quickly into Auston’s ear, attempting to get up from his seat to go and find Bee, Morgan, and Tyler.

Fred saw Auston’s hand come up and hold him down. “Have you met Loren?”

***

“Are you guys going to take a taxi home?” Bee asked as she clung onto Morgan for dear life. After dancing the night away at Early Mercy, Fred knew Bee was ready to call it a night. Auston had tried to convince the manager to keep it open (while Serena hung on his arm, nonetheless), but to no avail. Special rules couldn’t be made for Auston Matthews. It was law. The manager was really sorry. So everybody decided to call it a night.

“Don’t worry, sweetcheeks,” Tyler fumbled around with Auston’s phone. “Our Uber’s just down the street.” He looked towards Auston, another ping coming from his phone. “That girl just texted you five times in a row.”

“Of course,” Auston rolled his eyes.

“Am I still sleeping over yours?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not cockblocking am I?”

“Far from it. If you’re over it gives a legitimate reason for her not to follow us home.”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “I’ll call the cops if I need to.”

“Freddie?” he heard his name called by Bee’s overly sweet voice. “Freddie how are you getting home?” she asked as she approached him, clinging onto the material of his shirt.

“I’m grabbing an Uber with Auston and Tyler,” he said, holding her in place so she wouldn’t fall over. He loved seeing Bee like this, if only because she was so poised and in control of herself 99% of the time. He loved seeing her let loose.

“Are you going home?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to be safe?”

Fred giggled at her tone of voice. “Yes Bee. I’ll be safe. I don’t know many people who would jump a six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-forty-pound man. In an Uber.”

“But you always look so expensive,” she said. He also loved that Bee had no filter. “You always dress so nice and wear such expensive things and look put together and I once got told by this lady that people look for people who look rich because --”

“Bee --”

“Because it means they have money and did you know that thieves will actually target people who have sleeve tattoos because it means they have a lot of money if it means they can get all that work done? So Auston has to be careful too.”

Fred couldn’t help but laugh as he saw, in his peripheral vision, their Uber come up along the curb. Tyler was waving his arms like one of those flag guys on the tarmacs outside of planes. “I’ll make sure Auston is safe, Bee.”

“Thank you, you big boy.”

“Alright! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Tyler yelled from the car. Fred gave one last ‘Happy Birthday’ and kiss on the cheek to Bee before shoving himself into the backseat (why, oh why didn’t they order an SUV? His legs were going to cramp so bad), pulling an almost-drunk Auston in with him, and ordering Tyler to take the front seat (it should have been him taking the front seat, because, you know, leg room. Tyler was 5’9”. He could fit in the trunk.) so they could get on with it.

Because they had ordered the Uber from Auston’s phone, the driver was bringing them to Auston’s address. Fred made sure to tell him right from the get-go that he would need to make two stops. The driver complied easily.

“Did you like any of them?” Auston asked as he leaned awkwardly into the middle section of the backseat, looking at Fred with beady eyes.

“Like any of who?” Fred asked. He overheard Tyler making awkward conversation with the Uber driver from the front seat, telling him his name was Inigo Montoya a la Princess Bride.

“Loren thought you were hot.”

“Oh for fuck sakes,” Freddie sighed. “Auston--”

“Get over her,” Auston said authoritatively. “She’s not gonna appear out of thin air, Fred. She’s not just gonna appear in a Starbucks while you’re ordering coffee. Loren is a real person,” he emphasized. “With lips, and boobs – nice ones – and--”

“Auston.”

“Will you at least just think about it?” Auston asked. “I hate seeing you so pissy. You’re Frederik fucking Andersen dude. You should be having every God damn girl in this city if you wanted.”

On the one hand, Auston had a point. Fred hated to admit it, but he did. Maybe he was too hung up on this. Maybe he was over-the-top about his search, about his constant thinking about her. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, and he was just holding onto a dream that didn’t need holding on to; a dream that needed to stay unfulfilled, undone, incomplete. Maybe he was trying to force fate – the last thing anybody should do.

Fred took a deep breath as they felt the car pull up to the curb. Out the window, Fred could see the façade of Auston’s apartment building. “I’ll think about it.”

Auston smiled mischievously before winking. “Atta boy,” he pulled himself up, opening the door to the car. “Her Instagram is at lorenxoxo. Thank you kindly, sir,” he directed to the Uber driver, saluting him dramatically. “Slip into her DMs.”

“Goodnight Auston,” Fred dismissed him. Fred watched as Tyler and Auston stumbled their way into Auston’s building, getting inside safely. The car had been quiet from a lack of music, but as he saw Tyler open the door, the opening notes of a guitar riff began to play over the stereo.

Suddenly, Fred heard the back door opposite his side of the car open, and a body slipped into the backseat beside him, closing the door once they were in. The first thing he noticed was the abundance of thick, luxurious hair, styled in old Hollywood waves, cascading down the back and side profile, obstructing the view of her face. Then, he noticed the outfit: a loose, spaghetti strap, silk v-neck top, lazily tucked into tight, seamless black pants, and strappy black heels.

“Take me to Stewart Street, please,” the woman said to the driver. Her voice was off, somehow, but Fred couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Ma’am – I – I already have a passenger. I--”

“Stewart Street, please,” she begged, and Fred could hear in her voice that she was crying.

He looked up.

***

Aleida Casillas was crying. Again. She felt like she had been crying for months, that her tear ducts were getting their own workout now for how often she used them. She cried in bed. She cried in the shower. She cried in her car. She cried in her Ubers. She cried in restaurants. She cried in restaurant bathrooms. She cried at her parents’ house. She cried at her sister’s house. She cried in her own house. She cried on her couch. She cried underneath a blanket.

She cried alone.

And right now, she needed to get into the privacy of her own home so she could cry there. But she’d have to cry in the back of an Uber to get there.

As she walked down King Street, she saw an Uber – she knew, thanks to the sticker on the back windshield – pull up and let out two drunken men who scurried into the glass condo building. She ran towards the car as fast as her heels could carry her before it could drive away. She opened the backseat door and slipped in, closing it behind her.

“Take me to Stewart Street, please,” Aleida said to the driver. She could hear the cracks in her own voice and hoped to God the driver didn’t make some sort of comment about it. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it. She really didn’t think she could sob any harder at the back of an Uber more so than she had been doing the last few months. Uber drivers in Toronto probably had her on their radar.

“Ma’am – I – I already have a passenger. I--”

“Stewart Street, please,” she begged, looking down at her feet, her feet in their strappy heels, so she could wipe away her tears before the driver could know she was crying. She wasn’t really listening to him. She didn’t really care about what he was saying, truthfully, the other passenger be damned. Turn it into an UberPool – whatever needed to happen for her to get home. She’d even pay for the other passenger’s fare. They could live all the way out in Scarborough. Mississauga. Aurora. Newmarket. She didn’t care.

“Holy shit.”

She looked up.

***

Fred was going to pass out.

Her.

It was her.

He was pretty sure that his mouth was gaping open; that he looked like a complete idiot at the other end of the backseat, but his mind couldn’t process what his eyes were seeing fast enough. The rich, dark brown hair. The perfectly tanned and contoured skin as smooth and flawless as glass. The dominant eyebrows that framed her face. The perfectly cut cheekbones blushed and highlighted. The lips, full and bow-shaped, painted with a neutral pink instead of the daring red he’d seen so many moons ago.

Her eyes with their striking hazel irises, were staring directly into his soul. Again.

She was here.

In the car.

Crying again.

“Fred,” his name escaped her lips quietly, the tears immediately stopping. She was just as shocked as he was, apparently. Because, really, what were the chances? To be going home at the same time, to get into the same time…

“It’s you,” he said, not knowing what he was saying. His brain was still trying to process everything, and it was doing a shit job.

“It’s me.”

“Ma’am, you’re going to have to leave the vehic--”

“No no, it’s fine,” Fred said quickly, making eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror, waving him off. “Take her to Stewart Street.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Fred said without even looking at him. Soon, he felt the gear shift into drive and the driver pull away from the curb.

The girl had begun to wipe the tears away from her face delicately, trying to mask her condition. As if Fred didn’t catch it. He watched her for a few moments as she stared straight ahead as to not make eye contact with him, not knowing what to say at all. What could he say? That he’d been obsessed with her? That he’d badgered his teammates and strangers about her? But before he could overthink it, his mind decided to say the one thing that was true. “I’ve been trying to find you.”

She didn’t bother to look at him, still trying to collect her tears, her emotions. “You have? Why?”

He had to be honest. “Your eyes,” he admitted. It was at that point that she looked at him again, the hazel irises stabbing him. “Your eyes are so sad.”

They were both hyperaware of the verb he used. Are. Because they definitely were sad then, and they were sad now. For a moment, however quick it was, there was an acknowledgement on her face; it soon turned to anger – brows furrowed and lips pursed, looking away again. “That’s none of your business.”

Fred acquiesced. He knew that. Maybe that was too forward of him. “What’s your name, then? I – I need to know your name.”

She shot him a glance. Against her better judgement, she answered him. “Aleida.”

“Aleida what?”

“Aleida.”

“How did you know who I was…am,” he corrected himself.

Aleida gave him another look. “Everybody knows who you are, Fred. Goalie extraordinaire of the Maple Leafs. Girls in this city would line up outside your bedroom if only you’d let them.”

It was Fred’s turn to give her a look. That wasn’t true at all. Well, not to him. He could still go around some places in the city without getting recognized – especially when he was alone. He mostly just kept to himself. When he was with Auston it was a different story, since Auston’s reputation preceded him. “Why don’t I know who you are?”

“Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough,” she said.

That was a joke. If she only knew what he had been up to. If only she knew. “Why aren’t you answering my questions?”

“Why do keep asking them?”

“Because I want to know who you are,” Fred hit back, more firmly this time. Didn’t she get that? Didn’t she get the reason why the first words out of his mouth were ‘Holy shit’ was because of exactly that?

“Ma’am, we’re here. Stewart Street,” the driver said from the front seat. “Wasn’t a log drive.” He put the car in park and unlocked the doors, the sound dramatically filling the air.

She took once last look at Fred as she opened the door. “My name is Aleida. That’s all you will need to know more.”

And then she was gone.

***

Frederik found himself riding the elevator up to the 31st floor of the St. Regis Hotel. The elevator attendant marveled at his size, trying to hide the fact that he was staring. The other women in the elevator – four of them – stared too, trying not to giggle to each other. But Fred could see their eyes. He could see their eyes dart towards him and then to one another, smirks appearing on their faces, stifled little giggles escaping them as the elevator rushed up.

When the elevator pinged, and the doors opened, Fred found himself at Louix Louis, the luxurious, gilded bar that had Torontonians salivating at the mouth. It was the most luxurious of the luxurious. Lavish. Opulent. You name it. It was everything people loved about indulgence. Everything people loved about exclusivity; about standing in line and not getting in; about calling for reservations and being denied; about watching people, seeing people, wanting to be seen, waiting to be seen.

“Hey Fred,” the hostess winked immediately as he approached her podium. “Auston’s been waiting.”

“Thanks,” he responded shyly as she grabbed a menu from beneath her.

“Follow me, sweetie.”

Fred shook his head and chuckled to himself as she turned her back to him, leading him down the bar and to one of the booths in the back where he could already see Auston waiting. And of course, like the sky is blue, Auston was wearing a beanie. He was the only person in Toronto who would wear a beanie in Louix Louis.

“’Bout time,” Auston smiled as Fred shuffled into the opposite side of the booth.

“Shut up.”

“Serena, Jessy, Rachel, and Loren are on their way,” Auston winked.

“You didn’t,” Fred deadpanned, thinking this was just going to be a quiet night. He should have known better. He should have known better to accept an invitation by Auston to go to Louix Louis.

“Oh, I did,” Auston smiled. “She’s into you, bro.”

“Who?”

“Loren.”

“Who’s Loren?”

“Oh, fuck off, Fred.”

Fred rolled his eyes. He couldn’t care less. He decided to one up Auston; to tell him what he wanted to tell him ever since he agreed to go out with him tonight. “I found her, by the way.”

“Found who?” Auston sipped at his drink.

“The girl. Aleida.”

Auston almost spit out his drink. “What?!”

Fred nodded his head. “She got into the Uber the night of Bee’s birthday once you and Tyler left.”

“You’re fucking telling me--”

“Aaaaaaustttooooooonnn!” a perky, overzealous voice cut their conversation way too short. From the opposite end of the bar, where Fred was let in, he saw the same group of girls from Bee’s birthday make their way towards them. Their designer purses hung on chains against their shoulders as their long hair, perfectly blow-dried at some salon in Yorkville, moved with their scurried movements. At Louix Louis, you wanted to be seen in the same booth as Auston Matthews.

“Hey heeeeey,” Auston smiled, scooting over to make room while the four girls entered all on his side. The girl Fred could only assume was Loren eyed him like a hawk, the waitress approaching the table not long after to get everybody’s drink orders.

Auston exchanged formalities with the ladies as Fred stayed silent, but he could tell that Auston was pressed about the news Fred had just revealed. For all Auston seemed like he didn’t care about things and was generally aloof, he could be a snoopy bitch. A really snoopy bitch. And Fred could tell Auston wanted to talk about it so bad.

Fred thought he would wait.

But he didn’t.

“Hey girls, can you help me with something?” he preempted quickly. “Actually, it’s more so helping Fred.”

Fred’s eyes widened. “N – No--”

“What do you girls know about a girl named Al-ay-da?” he stressed her name – improperly – eyeing Fred quickly.

“Oh my God.”

“Oh my GAWD.”

“Aleida Casillas?!”

“Oh my God, are you joking?” Serena piped up over the other three. “There is no way Aleida Casillas didn’t bite Fred’s head off if she met him. That girl is a fucking cannibal.”

“What? Listen, all I wanna know is the details,” Auston held his hands up innocently.

“What is there to say about Aleida Casillas,” Jessy quipped, and Fred felt like she was going to break out into the Regina George monologue from Mean Girls. “You know who her mom is, right?” she directed at Auston, but looked between him and Fred.

“No, I obviously don’t.”

“It’s Dr. Casillas – she’s, like, the best plastic surgeon in the city. The country.”

“Girls who go to her say she does the best work,” Loren contributed. Fred so desperately wanted to ask if she had gotten anything done for her to say something like that, but he of course decided against it. “It all looks so natural.”

“And her dad – he’s like, the best cardiologist in the country,” Serena added. “I’m not exaggerating. My cousin in med school once watched him perform a quadruple bypass and a ten hour ventricular restoration. He’s even done heart surgery on a former Prime Minister or whatever. He’s been honoured for his work all over the world. It’s insane.”

“Not to mention the family is loaded. She’s got everything anybody could ever want. I mean, Aleida thinks she owns the city,” Jessy said.

“Well…she kinda does,” Rachel said something besides oh my God. “She’s got all the money in the world, she knows everybody worth knowing, but like, she’s friends with them too, and people want her to wear their clothes or whatever, or come to their bars, or attend their charity events. I mean, it’s mainly because of who her parents are, but still. She sings, sometimes, I think, but I think mostly she just shows up places--”

“--she’s a model--”

“—she’s a model, and she’s pretty, and people are, like, scared of her, because I heard one time she, like, ruined the career of some up-and-coming influencer – or was it a designer? – but she ruined his career cause that person, like, didn’t dress one of her friends for an event or something and she went ballistic.”

“She’s a cannibal, like I said,” Serena said assertively. “She’s a huge bitch. Why would you want to know anything about her?”

Fred was shocked, to say the least. The person he’d met – if you could even call it that – in the Shopper’s Drug Mart that night, and the person he’d seen in the backseat of the Uber could not have been the same person. There was no way. There was no way that crying girl was a ‘cannibal’. There was no way. The family stuff could be true, sure – who was he to question that – but the other stuff? Ruining a career? Impossible. It wasn’t that Fred thought they were lying. But maybe…maybe they had the wrong girl. How many girls could be named Aleida? Maybe they were…embellishing.

“Yeah. Why would you want to know anything about her?” Loren asked, eyeing Fred like a hawk again.

Fred tried not to make it seem like he was physically uncomfortable every time she looked at him, but he was getting physically uncomfortable. “She just performed at an event we went to,” Fred explained briefly.

“I wouldn’t even think of like, doing anything,” Serena took charge again. “She’ll rip your head off.”

Well Fred knew where she stood.

“Enough about Aleida,” Auston held his hands up again, looking past everybody at the waitress that was bringing their drinks to the table. “What are we up to tonight?” he smirked.

Fred clocked out. He didn’t care about anything that was being done or said around him – he didn’t care what those girls were saying at all. He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He didn’t care.

Casillas.

Her last name was Casillas.

He got up abruptly, asking a passing waiter where the washrooms were. Auston was too entranced by the girls to care, so Fred had no qualms leaving. As he made his way towards the washrooms, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He typed out her name into the Google search bar . ‘Aleda Casiyas’

‘Do you mean Aleida Casillas?’

Well fine then.

There she was on his phone screen. It wasn’t like she had a Wikipedia page or anything, but perhaps even more important, especially in this city, was that she had her own tag on the Toronto Life website. The Narcity tag was there too, but that wasn’t as important. He clicked on the Toronto Life link.

Aleida Casillas, wearing vintage Jean Paul Gaultier, at Soho House, Toronto.

What Aleida Casillas wore to the premier of Guillermo Del Toro’s new film.

Aleida Casillas is the face for emerging Toronto fashion designer Guinevere Jones.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” he heard an all-too-familiar voice behind him. “Loren’s barely turned 18.”

Fred spun around dramatically.

There she was behind him.

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Almost. But if she could sneak into the backseat of his Uber, she could appear at Louix Louis. She could appear anywhere. And of course, she looked flawless. Makeup flawless, hair flawless, all of it. If she really was a model, he could see why. “What are you doing here?” Fred asked.

“Who isn’t at Louix Louis on a Friday night?” she countered.

Fred’s head whipped back and forth between the direction of the booth and Aleida standing in front of him. He was willing to ditch this entire scene. “Are you ready to talk?”

“About what?”

“Why you were crying in a Shopper’s Drug Mart at two in the morning four months ago,” Fred deadpanned. “And why you were crying before you stole an Uber?”

Aleida’s face dropped. Whatever confidence she had in her power and persuasion over Fred left her and was replaced with something else – that something else, Fred didn’t know yet. But it wasn’t confidence, and it wasn’t self-assurance, and it sure wasn’t was the cheekiness she’d displayed in any and all interaction she’d had with him (however brief) up until this point. “You don’t want to get into it,” she said, her voice soft. And for the first time, emotional.

“I do.”

She looked at him. “Fred.”

“Can we get out of here?”

Aleida took a deep breath. She tugged on the hem of his shirt as she started walking away.

He followed her.

She made an abrupt stop at the booth. When Auston saw her, he didn’t think anything of it, but when he saw Fred behind her, his eyes went wide. All the girls stopped talking and looked like a ghost had just appeared in front of them.

“Ohmigod Aleida, hi,” Serena said first.

Aleida smiled at her, but it wasn’t politely. She focused her attention back to Auston. “I’m taking Fred.” She didn’t give him an option.

“Th-that’s cool,” he couldn’t say anything else to her.

Aleida looked back at the girls, specifically Serena. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Serena’s jaw almost dropped from embarrassment. It was clear to Fred that despite calling her a cannibal a mere ten minutes ago, Serena would butter herself up if it meant Aleida would eat her. “It’s…it’s me! Serena Da Costa.”

Aleida’s eyes flashed. “Oh! Right! From my mom’s clinic!” she exclaimed, her surprise feigned and her polite tone just as fake. She pointed at Serena. “You came in with…” she went through the girls with her pointed finger, stopping on Loren. “You! How was your eighteenth birthday in June? Looks like your parents allowed you to get the boobs you wanted.”

Loren looked absolutely mortified. “I--”

“And your new lips,” Aleida focused on Serena again. “Isn’t my mom just so great?”

Now Serena looked absolutely mortified. But it was Auston who looked ready to crawl into a hole and die since she mentioned the eighteenth birthday party. “Uh--”

“Anyways, see you guys later. I’m sure one of you will want a nose job soon,” she winked at the group before walking off.

***

“So why were you crying?”

Fred was on Aleida’s couch now, after having followed her home by foot, walking for half an hour. Half an hour along King Street West, illuminated lights and flashing storefronts lighting the way. Eager clubbers spilling onto the streets tried to do their part to distract Fred or block him from following, but he was like a man possessed. His eyes were like a hawk’s on her. There was no way he was losing her again in a crowd full of people on King Street.

They passed the Shopper’s Drug Mart.

It was when they happened upon a row of expansive, luxurious, modern townhomes, coincidentally just a few blocks from his building that Fred began to realize that maybe the things those girls were saying were right, or at least partly true. But the other thing he realized made him want to scream. He had searched for her for months and she was practically just a few steps away from him? He understood the universe worked in mysterious ways, but this was just plain cruel. That she had been so close to him, physically, and he had no idea. It tore him up.

They’d gone inside. She took off her heels. She’d opened a bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses before standing at opposites ends of her expansive kitchen island, staring at each other, waiting for the other to speak. It was Fred who obviously broke first. It was Fred who couldn’t wait any longer; who wanted to get to the bottom of why her eyes were – are – so sad that night, and in the Uber, and tonight. Because behind her façade, he could see her sadness. Behind the snarky comments she made towards those girls with Auston, Aleida Casillas was profoundly sad.

She took a deep breath. “My uh…my old piano instructor – from when I was a kid – she passed away earlier that day,” Aleida revealed, her voice low.

“Were you close?”

“I think I loved her more than I loved my parents when I was a kid.”

Fred was shocked to hear such a statement come out of her mouth. Considering that he just learned who her parents were, it was…different for him to hear such a thing. “Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “She listened,” she said simply. “No-one ever listens. No-one ever…no-one ever listens. To me. But she did. She listened. More than anyone. And she saw me."

“She saw you?”

“She saw me for who I was and not what she wanted me to be,” Aleida continued. “She was the best.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Fred was unsure of what to say. He knew he wanted her to open up to him, but he wasn’t expecting…this. Truthfully, he was expecting something completely different. A breakup with a boyfriend, or at least a fight. A disagreement with a friend. A lost job opportunity or a firing. But not a death of a childhood piano teacher. “I just couldn’t get over your eyes – the sadness in your eyes. And it’s still there.”

“Listen. I don’t know what those girls told you about me tonight. And I didn’t mean to make you scared that night when I called you Fred and knew who you were. I just…you made it obvious that you didn’t see me in there. Nobody did. And that was a stark reminder to me of her being gone. Anyway…there…there’s a lot going on right now, and nobody cares.”

He could tell she knew she was rambling; that she stopped herself from revealing too much. He persisted. “Nobody cares?”

“Nobody fucking cares,” she stressed before taking a long sip of wine.

“Well, can you tell me a bit about yourself?” he asked. Her eyes flashed at him, her brows furrowing. “So I can get to know you? So I can care?”

“I’m sure those girls told you enough about me,” she commented. “Whatever people say I am, I am. Isn’t that how all this works?”

“No, and you know that,” he said. “You apparently know all this information about me and about those girls with Auston, but why don’t I know anything about you? Just be honest.”

“Well what’d those girls say about me?”

He paused before taking a deep breath. “Cannibal.”

“Cannibal?”

“Serena said you were a cannibal. Your parents – doctors. Your family – loaded. All the money in the world. That you’re a model. A bitch. That you ruined someone’s career because they wouldn’t dress your friend for an event,” he listed off.

Aleida’s eyes narrowed at the last bit. Her tone was as assertive as the click of her heels on the sidewalk on the way here. “That designer attempted to sexually assault one of my best friends, so you’re damn right I ruined his career. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

So she was misunderstood. Or at least her life was. Fred still didn’t know. “But what’s the truth?”

“Isn’t there a bit of truth in everything?” she asked rhetorically.

“You tell me.”

Aleida couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Everything they told you about me is true. Doctor parents. Loaded. All the money in the world. A bitch. A cannibal.”

“Yet you cry about your piano teacher dying,” he commented. Her eyes shot daggers at him at his comment. For a second, he was sure he was going to die right then and there. “You’re hiding behind this tough exterior and I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude but I think you care more than anyone.”

“Don’t you ever use that against me ever again,” she snapped back at him. “I do fucking care, okay? Everybody fucking cares, and if they say they don’t they’re liars. That’s why Serena was practically salivating at the mouth when she saw me and couldn’t handle it when I pretended not to know who she was. She’ll call me a cannibal but if I’m the shark she’s that fish that attaches itself and sucks the bacteria off my body.” Her tone was so scathing, Fred had never heard anything like it. She paused. “You want to know the truth? Here’s your truth. I’m Cuban-Canadian. My dad is one of the best cardiologists in the entire world and my mother is the best plastic surgeon in the country. I’ve got an older sister named Alejandra who’s a plastic surgeon too. I grew up in Rosedale. I went to private school. I received the best education. I have millions and millions of dollars at my disposal whenever I want it and get to spend it however I want it. People ask me to model their clothes, to go to their events, to say nice things about them. They want me to sing and play piano and give this air that their event is high-end and exclusive and luxurious just because I’m there – because my presence apparently means something to a lot of people in the city. And every single one of those people – my dad, mom, sister, her husband, everybody who wants something from me – they look at me, all the time, but they don’t see me. And for once in my life…for once in my life, I just want to be seen.”

Fred listened. It was all he could do as she went into her speech. There were no words of comfort that could be said to her, no grand gestures that could be done to make her feel better. He barely knew her – really. He barely knew her. He only felt a connection to her; to her and her sad eyes, to her tears, to the image of her cathartic crying at two in the morning in a drugstore neither of them had any business of being in at that hour.

So instead, he stared at her. He nodded his head in understanding. Because he did understand, to some extent – how people in their lives look but they never really see. It was something that bound them together. In the vast city of Toronto, from the bright lights of King Street West to the luxurious décor of Louix Louis, to the couch they found themselves sitting on sipping on an expensive wine, it connected them.

He took a deep breath. “So you play piano then? And you sing?” he asked. Aleida nodded her head. He couldn’t read her emotion as she took another sip of wine. “Can I hear or see you play sometime?”

“No.”

Fred nodded. It would take a while for her to open up more. To show him more of herself, to let her guard and her attitude down. For her to allow him to see her.

But he’d be there for it.

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just-hockeythings · 6 years

Text

Oops- Freddie Andersen Part 7

I want to start by apologizing for how long it’s taken me to get writing. I’ve been busy with moving and looking for jobs and stuff but I did manage to write a short little bit just to keep it going. It’s not a lot and I definitely plan on writing more. Thank you to everyone for the kind words and encouragement, I hope you all enjoy!!

Part six can be found here

Warnings: maybe some cursing and some kinda barely suggestive stuff

Word count: 972

(Y/F/N) stares at you a little dumbfounded but doesn’t say anything. She keeps staring at you for what feels like forever and you feel like you’re going to snap.

“Say SOMETHING oh my GOD” you say in a tone close to a scream.

Her dumbfounded look turns to a grin. “OBVIOUSLY you’re in love with him! You’re telling me you just figured this out?”

She looks so smug you’d want to smack her if she wasn’t one of your best friends.

“I mean yeah I guess I did? I just didn’t really realize it until now. Like yeah he’s really hot and the sex was like...wow but he’s also like really sweet and thoughtful and I just want to kiss him dumb stupid face.” you let it all out without taking a breathe and finallying saying it out loud kind of feels like a weight off of your shoulders.

“Okay so like… why don’t you tell him?” (y/f/n) suggests like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, “I can’t just TELL him! I already know he doesn’t want anything serious I don’t want to push him away.”

“Well you better start keeping in your feelings now because I see a large handsome ginger guy coming our way.” she says to you while waving to Freddie.

You curse under your breath then turn and smile at him. He’s walking up to you with a big smile and you feel your stomach fluttering.

“I totally kicked Matts’ butt and was hoping for some real competition I’m glad I found you.” Freddie says bumping you with his elbow.

“I am a pro!” you say sounding more confident than you feel. (y/f/n) is looking at the two of you smirking and you want to reach out and smack her, but not as much as you want to reach up and kiss Freddie.

“How about I get you another drink and we find another game for me to win.” he challenges.

“Oh you’re on!”

The night is full of drinks and games and you getting to spend a lot of time with Freddie. He’s nice and charming but never to the point that you think he might be feeling the same way you are. You do manage to stop thinking about your feelings for him for a bursts of time and just enjoy hanging out with him. Freddie not only planned the night, but also planned to drive home. (y/f/n) and Mo seemed to cozy up during the night and as you were getting ready to go home you realized you couldn’t find her anywhere. You were walking around the bar with Freddie when you discovered she was gone.

“Um have you seen Mo recently?” you ask him.

“You know what I haven’t I’ll call him I was going to drive him home. Freddie pulls out his phone and dials Mo.

While he’s calling his friend you call yours. You don’t get an answer but Freddie does. His conversation is short and ends with Freddie smirking.

“Well you don’t need to worry about your friend and it looks like I’ll have two empty seats in my car.” he says after hanging up the phone.

“Wow go (y/f/n)” you mutter under your breath.

“Is it okay if I see if Mitch and Kappy need a ride?” Freddie asks bumping your arm.

“Oh yeah of course it’s your car!” you say finding yourself blushing.

“Well yeah but I just want you to be comfortable.” Freddie explains smiling softly.

His comment only make you blush more and you’re pretty positive that he has noticed, but you still try and play it cool.

“How about we play one more game and I’ll find them with you” you suggest.

“Let’s go kick some space butt” Freddie says putting his arm around you.

Your heartbeat picks up noticeably and for a quick second you really want to tell him how you’re feeling. But you get over to the game, you are laughing and having a great time with Freddie and it’s something you really don’t want to give up. You end up playing a couple more games than planned and it gets pretty late. The bar has mostly cleared out and the bartender had called last call while you’re playing your last game. You smash your hand down on the machine when you lose your last life.

“Dammit!” you yell a little louder than you intended.

“Sorry darling that was a close game” Freddie says putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah yeah let's go find your friends.” you say frowning only a little.

Freddie puts his arm around you again and you and your little frown is gone right away. You walk over to where the boys had been sitting but they’re clearly not there before you even get to the table.

“Well it looks like you have a whole empty backseat now” you say looking up at him.

Freddie looks down at you raising his eyebrows for a second. You look back down blushing and you hear Freddie chuckle quietly.

“Do you want to find a diner?” He asks hiding his laughter. “I think getting some food in you probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“That’s not the only thing that wouldn’t hurt getting into me…” you mumble to yourself.

“What was that?” Freddie asks smirking.

Your face turns beet red, “I just still need to go pay my tab.” you say quickly turning away from him.

You walk over to the bar and take a second to collect yourself. You pay your bill but stand there for a few more seconds and take a couple of deep breaths.

“Ready to go?” Freddie asks coming up behind you.

You turn around and smile, “Yeah definitely lets go!”

#freddie andersen #frederik andersen #freddie andersen imagines #Toronto Maple Leafs #nhl imagines #fan fic #fanfic #my writing

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carey-pricemas · 7 years

Text

Updated Queue!

Happy Saturday ladies and gents! Here is your updated queue for the week!I’m really sorry yesterdays posts got so messed up. Queue hates me! Also I am at the end of my semester so I may be also working on a multichapter fic... I haven’t decided yet. Anyway... I have nothing else to say.... weird... anyway! Enjoy!

Today- JVR- team photo proposal

Artemi Panarin- first date nerves

Sunday 4/30- Mitch Marner- best friends

Andre Burakovsky- go out to celebrate after a win

Jakob Chychrun- Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinead O’Connor

Monday 5/1- Connor McDavid- surprise smut after playoff spot clinched

Andre Burakovsky- How they met for the first time

Leon Draisaitl- smut

Tuesday 5/2- Brendan Gallagher- get jealous of Chucky

Patrik Laine- impressed by brother’s skills

Olli Maatta- nervous and rambles in Finnish

Jakob Chychrun- Scary movie

Wednesday 5/3- Brendan Gallagher- cute and cuddly free reign

William Nylander- fight/make up and smut

Victor Hedman- older, trying to learn Swedish

Thursday 5/4- Auston Matthews- annoyed by energy

JVR- fight and first I love yous

AJ Greer- call up to the Avs

Friday 5/5- Noah Hanifin- free reign

Nate Schmidt- baby fluff

Connor Brown- smut

Tyler Seguin- Mitch trying to set his sister up with Matt Martin

Saturday 5/6- Dylan Larkin- road trip panic attack

Auston Matthews- smut

Ben Hutton- reads to kids

Sunday 5/7- Ben Hutton- meet and greet fan experience

Morgan Rielly- truth or dare smut

Drew Doughty- embarrassed after fight

Monday 5/8- Alex Galchenyuk- protective and fights

Patrik Laine- tries to convince sister Jets are better (probably going to be a multiparter not gonna lie)

Jakob Chychrun- insomnia and nightmare

Tuesday 5/9- Auston Matthews- unknown feelings and jealous

JVR- with KIDS and pregnant

Miles Wood- Jealous smut

Wednesday 5/10- Sebastian Aho- pregnant and about to give birth

Auston Matthews- Takes care of reader after skating injury

Tom Wilson- fight smut

Thursday 5/11- Tyler Seguin- picks on insecurities accidentally

Andre Burakovsky- broken up but dance at a party

Miles Wood- smut

Tom Wilson- DWTS jealousy

Friday 5/12- Artturi Lehkonen- embarrassed in front of good friend Gally

Morgan Rielly- smut

Chris Kreider- Stepan behind the mic couples interview

Saturday 5/13- Connor McDavid- dating famous singer

Auston Matthews- smut

Carter Hart- helping him after WJC loss

Sunday 5/14- Kevin Hayes- pregnant but new relationship

Tyler Seguin- shower smut

Dylan Strome- free reign

Monday 5/15- Auston Matthews- Bathwater by No Doubt

Jake Virtanen- smut

Brendan Gallagher- going home and running into everyone you know

Tuesday 5/16- Auston Matthews- On my own from Les Mis

Carter Hart- Smut

William Nylander- Furies player whos there when Leafs clinch playoff spot

Wednesday 5/17- Connor McDavid- Stuck in an elevator

Auston Matthews- clinched playoff smut

Alex Nylander- NHL debut

Thursday 5/18- Brendan Gallagher- singer and Gally gets dreamy

Morgan Rielly- trying to turn him on in an elevator with teammates

William Nylander- cheating on girlfriend with you

Friday 5/19- Kasperi Kapanen- First NHL goal

Tyler Seguin- smut before game

Morgan Rielly- little spoon

Saturday 5/20- Dylan Larkin- friends don’t like him

Andre Burakovsky- he gets insecure

Mitch Marner- distant fight and make up

Sunday 5/21- Alex Nylander- Blind date

William Nylander- dirty while on the phone

Auston Matthews- dance party

Monday 5/22- Matthew Tkachuk- fight and spend day apart

Sam Reinhart- smut

Tyler Seguin- fun date

Tuesday 5/23- Auston Matthews- matchmakers

Aaron Ekblad- son is 1st overall pick

Jimmy Vesey- Broadway Hamilton practice

Wednesday 5/24- Dmytro Timashov- free reign

Jakob Chychrun- smut

Connor McDavid- Soon part 2

Thursday 5/25- Auston Matthews- accidentally stands up angst

Maple Leafs Rookie of choice (probably Connor Brown or Zach Hyman)- mother of group

Sidney Crosby- angst about age difference

Friday 5/26- Carter Hart- gets injured during the game

William Nylander- shower smut/cute

Andre Burakovsky- cooking

Saturday 5/27- Tyler Seguin- protective dogs of pregnancy

FREDDIE Andersen- Mitch’s older sister

Charlie McAvoy- jealous of Seggy

Sunday 5/28- Auston Matthews- Mitch embarrasses him

Matt Murray- post Stanley cup smut

Auston Matthews- song written about you

Monday 5/29- Andre Burakovsky- broken ribs

Sidney Crosby- smut challenge

Jakob Chychrun- arguing over your work meetings in Cali

Tuesday 5/30- Andre Burakovsky- Close as Strangers by 5 Seconds of Summer

Rich Clune- smut

Connor Brown- playoff beard

Wednesday 5/31- Carter Hart- tries cheesy pickup lines

Tyler Seguin- smut

William Nylander- I love you while drunk

Thursday 6/1- Alex Wennberg- plane crash

JJ Piccinich- last home game win fluff/smut

Jakub Vrana- fluffy free reign

Friday 6/2- Downtown Connor Brown- meet and greet and surprised you like him

Jonathan Toews- smut

Matthew Tkachuk- you have a stutter

Saturday 6/3- Freddie Andersen- playoffs

Andre Burakovsky- 21st bday jealousy fluff/smut

Connor Murphy- talking about the future

Sunday 6/4- Matthew Tkachuk- falls asleep with baby bro fluff

Morgan Rielly- smut being caught

Alex Nylander- friend breakup worries

Monday 6/5- Sidney Crosby- teen son from previous relationship

William Nylander- doesn’t know you’re a virgin

Jimmy Vesey- friends set you up

Tuesday 6/6- Jakob Forsbacka Karlsson- fluff free reign

Chris Kreider- smut

Mitch Marner- insecure about love

Wednesday 6/7- Auston Matthews- grumpy after playing the Stars

Freddie Andersen- smut

William Nylander- playoff beard

Thursday 6/8- Downtown Connor Brown- playoff beard

Alex Wennberg- super smutty XD

Jordie Benn- expecting first child

Friday 6/9- Charlie McAvoy- free reign

Morgan Rielly- smut

Sebastian Aho- team finds out about you through Instagram

Saturday 6/10- Brady Skjei- makes her sing for him

Martin Jones- free rein

Alex Wennberg- nervous about telling him youre pregnant

Sunday 6/11- Brendan Gallagher- wearing a Chucky jersey

Connor McDavid- Family is Sabres fans

Tom Wilson- The first time again part 2

Monday 6/12- Matt Martin- jealous

Kasperi Kapanen- celebration smut

Auston Matthews- jealous of basketball team

Tuesday 6/13- Jakob Chychrun- boys and girls club

Kasperi Kapanen- smut someone overhears you

Martin Jones/Sidney Crosby- Skin by Rihanna

Wednesday 6/14- Derick Brassard- pregnant during playoffs

Brendan Gallagher- calm down (wink wink) during playoffs XD

Any Rangers player- John Green quote

Thursday 6/15- Andre Burakovsky- friends with Patrick Kane

Andre Burakovsky- protective from man in bar (no one knows)

Morgan Rielly- large age gap

Friday 6/16- AJ Greer- Beach volleyball for team Canada

Colton Parayko- doesn’t know you speak English

Mitch Marner- Sees self harm scars

Saturday 6/17- Auston Matthews- both busy but make it to sons game

Auston Matthews- smut doesn’t like Dylan

Carter Hart- A million reasons by Lady Gaga

Sunday 6/18- Mikkeal Boedker- run into each other at grocery store

Alex Galchenyuk- smut same circles but never met

Jeff Skinner/Justin Faulk- harassed/assaulted and they save you

Monday 6/19- Connor McDavid/Mitch Marner- Late Late show about song

Austin Matthews- jealousy birthday smut

Any Caps player- political law firm but then player gets traded

Tuesday 6/20- Zach Hyman- proposes through book

Brady Skjei- celebration smut

Matthew Tkachuk- Secret Love song by Little Mix

Wednesday 6/21- Mitch Marner- messes up Valentines day

William Nylander- car smut

Any player- your teenage son is gay and introducing you to first boyfriend

Thursday 6/22- Jacob Trouba- Part 2 of Walk in the Park

Andre Burakovsky- broke up and reunited at Casino night smut

Auston Matthews- African dancer and he gets jealous

Friday 6/23- Kasperi Kapanen- tutoring him in college

Morgan Rielly- fluffy/smutty

Auston Matthews- teammate finds sex toys (ropes)

Saturday 6/24- Morgan Rielly- one of the guys Morgan’s overprotective and jealous

Artemi Panarin- tired of being called cute smut

Morgan Rielly- escape Leafs event and find each other

Sunday 6/25- Dmytro Timashov- watch scary movies

Artemi Panarin- love the sounds you make smut

Alex Galchenyuk- Chasing Ghosts by Against the Current

Monday 6/26- Morgan Rielly- fluffy/smutty

William Nylander- first time smut

Sidney Crosby- damsel in distress

Tuesday 6/27- Taylor Hall- transition from Edmonton to NJ

Rasmus Ristolainen- fluff

Auston Matthews- yeast infection and dr visit

Wednesday 6/28- Leon Draisaitl- getting ejected during A PLAYOFF GAME

Oliver Ekman-Larsson- love at first sight

Alec Martinez- Cinco de Mayo festivities

Thursday 6/29- Auston Matthews- tired and clingy

Jordie Benn- wants to be a family with you and daughter

Auston Matthews- jealous of Laine

Friday 6/30- Auston Matthews- bad day brings food (my kind of man)

William Nylander- snaps boredom Willy takes to fair

Johnny Gaudreau- cheer him up after getting swept

Saturday 7/1- Jo Drouin- sitting front row at a game

Brandon Montour- get into a fight

Filip Forsberg- free reign

Sunday 7/2- Auston Matthews/Sidney Crosby- autoimmune disease

Steven Stamkos- free reign

Brenden Dillon/Timo Meier- free reign

Monday 7/3- Jakob Silfverberg- for noranihilia

Aaron Ekblad- free reign

Filip Forsberg- free reign

Tuesday 7/4- Brent Burns- free reign

Roman Josi- free reign

Martin Jones- free reign

Wednesday 7/5- Chris Tierney- free reign

Nikita Kucherov- free reign

Mikael Granlund- cute/fluffy

Thursday 7/6- Jonathan Marchessault- free reign

Nino Niederreiter- free reign

Morgan Rielly- avoid feelings talk and he thinks you don’t like him

Friday 7/7- Charlie Coyle- Lipstick part two

Brendan Gallagher- angry/hate each other smut

Auston Matthews- you do his makeup and Mitch puts it on Instagram

Saturday 7/8- Auston Matthews- you’re sick and he and Mitch take care of you and your kid

William Nylander- wearing something that turns him on unknowingly

Pekka Rine- celebrate sweeping Hawks

Sunday 7/9- William Nylander- free reign about butt and thighs

Auston Matthews- meeting friend who doesn’t like the Leafs

Sidney Crosby- wakes up and mutters I love you a lot

Monday 7/10- Artemi Panarin- free reign

Morgan Rielly- part of the group but he likes you but just friends

Colton Parayko- bffs and in car accident and he tells you feelings

Tuesday 7/11- William Nylander- same height insecurities

Ben Hutton- fluffy smut

Mitch Marner- gf has chronic migraines

Wednesday 7/12- Alex Nylander- faking hickies prank

Tyler Seguin- Company by Justin Bieber

Auston Matthews- Gaston song with his name and he loves it (in secret)

Thursday 7/13- Sean Monahan- after wrist surgery

Morgan Rielly- fluffy/funny butt touching

Mats Zuccarello- free reign

Friday 7/14- Auston Matthews- Toronto Furies, play Aus to see who better player is

Jakub Vrana- part two of Doughnuts

Mitch Marner- making fun of passion over el clasico

Saturday 7/15- Charlie McAvoy- free reign

Alex Galchenyuk- smut

Sam Reinhart- season ticket holder, sees you at the game

Sunday 7/16- Morgan Rielly- after getting knocked out of the playoffs

William Nylander- happy with himself after seeing scratches

Mikael Granlund- gives goal pucks to his son

Monday 7/17- Morgan Rielly- They Don’t Know about Us by One Direction

William Nylander- sees bruises after sex (non-smut) and he feels guilty

Jamie Oleksiak- taking son to meet the team

Tuesday 7/18- Andre Burakovsky- meets at a charity event, sees again later when he has a gf (probably also a multiparter)

Leon Draisaitl- dominant hot smut

William Karlsson- ILYSB by LANY

Wednesday 7/19- Nazem Kadri- hit on Ovi

Leon Draisaitl- smut after finishing exams/graduation

Auston Matthews- trying to turn him on in an elevator with teammates smut

Thursday 7/20- Auston Matthews- getting knocked out of playoffs and shutting you out so he doesn’t take anger/sadness/frustration out on you

Michael Latta- Smut hot when he fights

Jonathan Toews- sequel to I’ll say yes for toews19

Friday 7/21- Andre Burakovsky- sleeping and he steals the sheets

Auston Matthews- argues about dishes

Andre Burakovsky- surprising you at graduation

Saturday 7/22- William Nylander- sleeping and someone posts a picture

Michael Latta- smut angry after game and takes it out on you

Tom Wilson- club and Tom gets jealous, heated

Sunday 7/23- Adam McQuaid- overprotective of gay son

Zach Fucale- smut after not seeing each other for awhile and she wears his jersey for first time

Milan Lucic- visiting with Bruins over the summer

Monday 7/24- Auston Matthews- thinks shes cheating and comes after her after fight

Auston Matthews- riding his thighs dirty

Auston/Willy/Mo/Freddie/Kappy choice- insecure about height/speaking Spanish/ Take on the World by You Me at Six, or Speakers by Sam Hunt

Tuesday 7/25- Adrian Kempe- Somebody Else part two

Claude Giroux/any Flyers player- partying with team and blurts feelings while tipsy

William Nylander- reader talks Swedish and Willy loves it (heated)

Wednesday 7/26- Auston Matthews- friend but he wants more but you’re unsure of his reputation

Tyler Seguin- nsfw sumt

Dylan Strome- Dive by Ed Sheeran

Thursday 7/27- Sebastian Aho- free reign

Tyler Seguin- based off his IG “love me” trying to get your attention

Mikael Granlund- he thinks you’re dating him for his money

Friday 7/28- Tyler Seguin- part 2 of Orders

Alex Nylander- smut

Tyler Seguin- friends dancing and he flirty teases you

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine

22 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 4 years

Text

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | 2

A/N: The first chapter was my first ever chapter of anything to break 200 notes. I cannot believe how much you guys are already loving this story! I LOVE YOU ALL!

“You found her?” Bee’s eyes went wide at Fred’s confession. He’d asked her out for coffee while he knew Morgan would be at the gym (he should be at the gym too, really, but he needed to talk to Bee about this), and naturally she agreed to go. And naturally, she picked a cute and quaint but private coffee shop, somewhere along Queen Street West, as the meeting destination. He didn’t care where they ended up – they could have gone to a Starbucks for all her cared – he just needed to speak to her. She was the one woman he wanted to talk to about this.

“I found her,” Fred nodded his head. “The night of your birthday, she ended up getting into my Uber.”

“What?!”

“And then Auston and I went out to Louix Louis, and she was there too. So we left together and we went over to her place to talk.”

Bee had a physical reaction to the news, holding her arms up like she was asking him to stop, shaking her head and body as she pretended to fall off her chair. “Hold the phone,” she said. “Okay, start from the beginning. And tell me everything. Don’t leave out any details.”

So he did. He told her everything – every action, every word said, everything he knew about her: who her parents were and who she was; how she embarrassed the girls at the bar and how he followed her home; her big speech (it was engrained in his memory, practically word for word, and every time he thought about it he remembered something different about it). And Bee listened to every word. Her eyebrows got higher and higher with every revelation Fred told her, every new bit of information she learned. She even whipped out her phone to look her up, and saw the same pictures as Fred did when he did the same. She agreed that she was stunning, beautiful, that it was unfair how good she looked.

“Have you spoken to her since then?” she asked.

Fred shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been texting. She gave me her number. But it’s always been pretty elusive. She thinks…well, I think she thinks she needs to put up a front, or like, a persona of who people thinks she is. Like she has this image in her mind of what people think her to be and then she acts on that. But I don’t…that’s not the real her. At least not to me. I can see right through it, even though she doesn’t want me to.”

Bee nodded her head. “What she said to you about people looking at her but not really seeing her – that’s really profound, Fred. She’s clearly going through a lot – has been going through a lot.”

“But I don’t get it,” Fred continued.

“Looking and seeing are two completely different things. And people can not be seen in different ways, Fred,” Bee explained. “Have you ever seen the movie The Breakfast Club?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember Andrew and Allison? The jock and the basket case?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you remember that scene they had together, where Allison confesses that her problems at home are really bad, and when Andrew asks ‘What’d they do to you?’ she responds, ‘They ignore me’? And Andrew understands, he completely understands one hundred percent, and he’s visibly emotional and nodding his head and it looks like he’s about to cry?” Fred waited for Bee to continue. “Both of their parents didn’t see them – that’s why they were able to sympathize with each other. That’s why Andrew was on the verge of tears. Because they saw themselves in the other. Allison’s parents didn’t see her because they ignored her. But Andrew – Andrew’s parents were so involved in his life that they completely saw over him. And that’s ignoring him too. They were too focused and too invested in his life and didn’t see him for who he was as an individual – they just saw him as an extension of them. They didn’t allow him to make decisions on his own. That’s just as bad.”

This was the reason he needed to talk to Bee, because she’d make his head explode with the profoundness yet simplicity of her logic. He loved her because of it. He absolutely fucking loved her. Her life experience gave her the best insight into every situation – at least for him. Morgan was lucky to have her, but Morgan knew that; he kissed the ground she walked on. “Yeah…yeah, I get it.”

“Even Morgan,” she continued. “He didn’t tell me at first he was a player for the Leafs – you know that. That night I found out, he told me he liked how I didn’t talk to him like he was Toronto Maple Leaf Morgan Rielly. He liked that I saw him as just some guy. He had never been seen like that up until that point. I’m sure you’re in a similar boat.”

“I am,” Fred nodded his head.

“It’s hard when people only see you one way, and don’t see you as this complex person capable of like, different identities. I bet she feels the same way,” Bee lamented. “I bet she’s the furthest thing from a cannibal – or if she ever is, she has good reason.”

Fred nodded his head again. He leaned forward, clutching the coffee cup in his giant hands. “Listen. Will you meet her?”

He could see the slight shock in Bee’s eyes at the request, but it soon turned. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I mean, if she wants to. Don’t force her or anything. When?”

“I don’t know. She’s so hot and cold, I don’t think she’d be cool with showing up at a Leafs event or a game. But you’ll meet her? You and Mo?”

“Absolutely.”

***

Aleida didn’t know why she was speaking to Fred. She didn’t know why she kept speaking to Fred. She didn’t know why she answered his texts again and again. And again. And again.

But just as he was drawn to her so much that he practically scoured every soul in the city for a semblance of just her name after one chance encounter in the middle of the night, she was draw to him, too. His silence, which juxtaposed her noise. His introspectiveness, which juxtaposed her emptiness. His gentility, which juxtaposed her rigidity.

She didn’t know why he wanted anything to do with her. She didn’t know what was wrong with him.

She wasn’t the best at making new friends, and that was an understatement. Perhaps it was because she was a bit brash, definitely arrogant, certainly had an attitude. She knew what she was like. She didn’t need anybody telling her. Maybe she rubbed people the wrong way (she definitely rubbed people the wrong way) – at least some people. She had friends. She had people who genuinely liked her, who were loyal to her, who stuck with her through thick and thin.

Fred seemed to be sticking.

Again, she didn’t know why. She wasn’t the nicest person to Serena and the other girls – whatever their names were – when she saw them with Auston. She rejected him when he asked to see her perform live. She was abrasive – lightly abrasive – during their encounters. But he kept texting. And texting. And texting. It was like he didn’t care. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was somehow so mesmerized by her he completely looked over it.

When he knocked on her townhouse door that night, she let him in with ease. She poured two glasses of wine and sat down on the couch with him and took in how truly big his frame was. And Fred, for what it was worth, took in her frame too; her tight black turtleneck tucked into her fitted jeans showing off her ample breasts and just about every other asset she had – her entire body, really. Her asset was her entire body. She was made known of that.

“Do you wear clothes like that all the time? Aren’t you uncomfortable?” he asked as he gave her an up-down.

It was only then she noticed his clothes – a comfy looking hoodie and trackpants. God, they looked like tailored dress pants. What in the world was he doing? She knew he was big but surely he could shop in one of those big and tall stores instead of getting custom tailored trackpants to fit him. “I’m fine.”

“Do you dress like that all the time?”

“Pretty much. Why does it matter?”

Fred shrugged his shoulders. “Just seems uncomfortable.”

“Well, that is generally how I make people feel, right?” she tried to joke as she took her first sip of her wine.

“You don’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Fred said. “Far from it, actually.”

She arched her brow. “Really?”

Fred nodded his head. “I don’t know why you think you would. I have to deal with greasy eBay men wanting my autograph every time I walk out a door.”

Aleida couldn’t help but snort. A real genuine laugh escaped her. She couldn’t believe she did that. “Not to mention girls who are barely eighteen trying to hook up with you.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “Come on. Tell me more about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“You’re Cuban?”

Aleida nodded her head. He was going right for it, and there was nowhere for her to hide. “Yeah. Wasn’t born there though – but I kinda grew up between here and Havana before I went to school. Both of my parents are from there. It’s their home, so I get why they wanted to raise my sister and I between here and there.”

“Are you fluent?”

“Yeah. Fluent in Spanish and French, actually.”

Fred wiggled his brows. “Cultured. Seems like your family still has a lot of connections there still.”

“I was named after Che Guevara’s wife, so you tell me.”

“Is that true or do you just say that to scare people?”

Aleida was taken aback. He caught her. “I…”

“Stop trying to play your act around me. I’m not buying it.” His tone wasn’t playful or flirty; it wasn’t trying to joke as a means to get her to open up more. It was curt and direct. A cut the bullshit that she didn’t know if she could do. She had been doing it for so long that sometimes, when she thought about it – when she really thought about it when she was at low points – she sometimes forgot where the act stopped and the real her began. When she was with people she knew, people she trusted, she was more confident about the real her. But sitting on the couch with Fred didn’t make her…confident in that anymore. Even though it was clear he could see right through her guise.

“I’m not trying to put up an act,” she tried to defend herself meekly.

“Then what is it?”

A defence mechanism she wanted to say, but couldn’t. She shook her head slightly and wondered how she could turn the conversation back around. He beat her to it, knowing she wouldn’t be able to answer. Knowing she’d just make some excuse or another deflection. “You know when you were crying in the Shopper’s Drug Mart?”

“Yes…”

“What would you have done if I didn’t bother you?”

Aleida thought about it. She supposed it really was an interesting sight to see a girl like herself crying in a drug store. “I don’t know. Probably would have come back here and cried some more.”

“What were you doing there, anyway?”

Aleida hesitated. “I don’t even know. I think I was just blindly walking through the city trying to feel and find something besides grief and loss. But I didn’t.”

“What about now?”

She shook her head.

“What are you trying to find?” he asked again.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you were walking through the city trying to feel and find something. Like, what are you trying to find in this world? From acting the way that you do. From being how you are.”

Aleida paused. “Myself.”

***

Aleida was taken aback by the offer. “I want you to meet one of my really good friends, Bee McTavish.” She was apparently the girlfriend of one of his teammates Morgan; a girl he trusted completely, who he respected and who he thought she would like as a person. “She isn’t like any of the other wives or girlfriends, especially of the younger guys,” Fred said, and Aleida didn’t know if that was misogynistic or the truth. “She’s just been through so much shit but she doesn’t let it get to her and I admire her for it.”

Aleida was even more taken aback that she agreed to it. Or that Bee agreed to do it. She figured Bee and Fred must be incredibly close for him to want Aleida to meet her so…soon. Fred promised it would be quiet. That they’d go out for dinner or drinks or something low-key – maybe even something at his place – and that it wouldn’t be this big thing.

So when she finally met Bee, at Buca Yorkville near the back of the restaurant where nobody would bother them, she realized why Fred wanted this.

In a city full of wannabes, of girls desperate to get into bars and desperate to get into clubs and desperate to look good and desperate to pose and desperate to take photos and desperate to get likes and desperate to get attention and desperate to make a name for themselves and desperate to be gossiped about and desperate to be seen and desperate about everything, Bee was a breath of fresh air. There wasn’t a hint of desperation anywhere on her, following her, preceding her – nothing. And Aleida could tell. She had a nose for it.

And when she spoke, Aleida listened. She hardly did that with anybody that spoke to her, but she did with Bee. And as she listened, she saw Morgan. She saw how Morgan looked at Bee like she was the only girl at the table, the only girl at the restaurant, the only girl in the city of Toronto, the province of Ontario, the country of Canada, the continent of North America, the world, the solar system, the Milky Way Galaxy, the universe. He saw his girlfriend. He saw her.

She so desperately wanted that.

“You should come to a game one of these days,” Bee smiled at her as the boys drifted off into their own conversation momentarily. Her offer was so sincere and so warm. “We can grab a drink one night after I get off work and then head over.”

How could Aleida say no?

***

@aleidacasillas (known Toronto socialite) is dating Freddie Andersen. Saw them together with Morgan Rielly and Bee McTavish at Buca Yorkville when I was on a date with my boyfriend. They were sitting near the back.

Yup. Ally Casillas and Freddie Andersen are def a thing. I served them. Seemed like just fuckbuddies tho. They didn’t give off the couple vibe. Wouldn’t be surprised, tbh, since Ally is known to be a MASSIVE bitch. I have no clue what Fred sees in her.

If the rumours are true that Freddie A and Aleida Casillas are seeing each other, Fred’s gonna get his heart ripped out of his chest. Girl is a fucking cannibal. She ruins careers.

Aleida Casillas is the most vapid, most self-obsessed, most bitchy woman I’ve ever met. She’s a known Toronto socialite who rules the social scene. If it’s true, I have no hope for him anymore. Can’t believe he’s hanging out with someone so downright mean.

***

Aleida showed up to Scotiabank Arena in head to toe Yves Saint Laurent. She knew she’d be overdressed, but she didn’t really care. And the looks she got from the wives and girlfriends just fueled her; she wished she had dressed in something with even more flair to shove the message down their throats. What was the message? She wasn’t even sure. She just knew she was making one.

She uploaded a story to Instagram.

She watched the game; watched as the wives and girlfriends shuffled through and flashed their designer bags; listened as Bee spoke and struck up good conversation with her. There was wine and there were snacks and during intermission, Bee told her how she probably wasn’t supposed to say this, but Fred had looked for her, looked for her for a long time, and she was glad that the universe conspired to bring them together the night of her birthday in that Uber.

When Bee went to the washroom, Aleida met Stephanie Lachance and Madisyn Dunne and Keltie Auerbach and Julia Fitzsimmons – girls. From Western. Aleida wanted to spit over her shoulder every time she said that school’s name. She could tell Steph knew who she was by the way she acted – how her eyes went wide as Bee introduced them before escaping to the washroom and by the way Steph straightened out her back and pushed her Chanel purse forward with her free hand that wasn’t holding a glass of wine. Aleida couldn’t get over how seriously these girls took a hockey game as a social event. They would be laughed out of Soho House.

“You’re here with Fred tonight?” Steph asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“I’m here with Bee, actually,” Aleida corrected her. “She’s the one who invited me.” She knew Steph only wanted the gossip.

“So Bee’s the one dating Morgan, right?” Keltie whispered, continuing what Aleida assumed to be the conversation the girls were having from before Aleida was introduced. She loved how Keltie was so overt with her reason to be at the game. Aleida wondered if Steph would be as open as to admit the reason she brought her friend was to hook her up with a Leaf.

Steph nodded her head. “They’ve been going steady for a year now.”

“Bee’s the one with the thank you note, remember?” Julia chuckled.

“Thank you note?” Aleida butt in.

“She wrote a thank you note to Masai Ujiri for getting the Leafs tickets to one of the Raptors playoff games against Golden State,” Julia explained.

Aleida furrowed her eyebrows and visibly grimaced at Julia’s tone and the way the words escaped her mouth. “What’s wrong with a thank you note? It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little – I don’t know, try hard?” Steph asked. “Like, we’re the Maple Leafs. We’re all under the same MLSE umbrella. Did she really have to write him a thank you note?”

“You’re not the Maple Leafs, your boyfriend is,” Aleida clarified for her, probably too harshly. “Even then – he’s one Maple Leaf. Don’t people in hockey get traded all the time?”

Steph looked at Aleida like there was a demon emerging from her skull. “He just signed a seven-year contract. His AAV is 10.8 million but he’s earning fifteen this year,” Steph clarified for her, as if that explained everything and put Aleida in her place.

Aleida tried not to visibly scoff at the numbers Steph proclaimed, but she found it hard. She added an eye roll for dramatic effect. “Okay, so is ten million or fifteen million the threshold for you thinking you’re too good to write a thank you note? Or you thinking you’re better than everybody else?” she shot back. “Manners go a long way. Don’t be mad that Bee has them and you don’t – develop some of your own instead of talking behind her back and maybe you’ll get the attention you so desperately want.”

Steph’s jaw dropped to the floor. “I’m fine, thank you very much. There’s no reason for you to be so blatantly rude to me.”

“There is, actually,” Aleida rolled her eyes again, a small smirk playing on her face, “and if you don’t see why then you need to grow up. I know Western girls aren’t the classiest but you should work to repair that reputation before your friends here leech you dry for all the clout you’re worth to them.”

And with that, Aleida walked away.

When Bee returned from the washroom – taking a little longer than usual, no doubt because Steph stopped her to explain what happened – she sat beside Aleida, the smallest smirk playing on her face. “So what happened there?” Bee asked.

“You wrote a thank you note to Masai Ujiri? For a playoff game or something?” Aleida asked, not looking at her, instead choosing to focus on the team spilling out onto the ice again.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Bee smile. “I feel like that thank you note is going to follow me for the rest of my life,” she commented.

Aleida finally looked at Bee. She didn’t even care if Steph told her the truth or not. Aleida knew Steph probably didn’t, because that meant that Steph would have had to admit she and her friends were talking behind Bee’s back. “Fred’s been asking to see me perform live, so if you and Morgan ever want to tag along with him, you’re more than welcome – and no-one else,” she offered, choosing not to address it. Bee, for her part, got the hint. Thinking that Aleida was going to leave it at that, she settled into her seat comfortably. It was then that Aleida added her caveat. “I want you to know you’re the classiest girl in this whole damn arena, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

***

“We have an issue,” Mitch approached Fred a few days later, in the middle of some hallway in Scotiabank Arena.

Fred wasn’t really doing anything, truthfully, but he still wasn’t too keen on the intrusion. He was well aware of the reputation goalies were known for, and he fit into that pretty well. He liked to think he was less weird than others, but his teammates probably didn’t think that was the case. “What?”

“Are you going out with that girl? Al-ay-da?” Mitch over pronounced her name.

“Aleida?” Fred corrected him.

“Whatever. Sure.”

“No. Why?” He had been wondering when Mitch was going to approach him about this.

“It’s just that…well…when she came to the game the other night, she said some stuff to Steph – some really rude stuff,” Mitch began. “And Steph told me about it.”

“What did she say?”

Mitch got awkward. “Apparently Aleida told Steph she was a classless Western girl with no manners who was desperate for attention and thought she was better than everybody.”

“Oh right, that,” Fred said, signifying for the first time his knowledge of the situation. The way he was so calm about it surprised Mitch. “Did Steph tell you why Aleida made the comment?”

“N…No…”

“Steph insinuated Bee a try-hard for writing that thank you note to Masai Ujiri,” Fred informed Mitch, who cowered at the bit of information Steph so obviously didn’t tell him. Mitch even broke eye contact, probably ashamed now that he had even approached Fred about it. “Aleida probably thought it was a bit warranted.”

“Right…alright,” Mitch said awkwardly, his hands going to his hips as he looked down at the floor and turned on the balls of his feet to walk away.

“See you later.”

***

Fred was mesmerized.

Aleida stood on stage at the Jazz Bistro, her band supporting her on the piano as her sultry voice filling the room, and Fred couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He was transfixed. The sight of her all done up, her long hair in loose Hollywood waves tousled over one shoulder, the shine of her dress, her bold red lip and flawless complexion shining underneath the stage lights…Fred was transfixed. He didn’t think he took his eyes off her once the second she stepped on stage.

And her voice.

It went from ethereal to velvet, from rockstar to classical, from jazz to showgirl, and he couldn’t keep up. She could sing ballads. She could belt out Elton John. She could croon in sultry jazz. She could hold a high note like Adele. The talent encapsulated within her amazed him. She could do it all. She could sound like anything she wanted. She could play the piano and transform herself into something else – something she wasn’t…or something that she was, that Fred just didn’t know about yet.

But fuck, did he want to find out.

This is what he missed the night of the event – when he first met her – when he didn’t listen to her. When he didn’t even realize she was in the room. It was awful to think that he hadn’t noticed her, her voice and her look and the way she played the piano. That he had ignored her in a room full of people. It made him sick to his stomach. And then he thought about the grief that she was going through that night, and the fact that she had still decided to perform, to go through with the event – and how much pain she had been in that night – and he felt even more sick that he hadn’t noticed. That nobody had noticed. What did she sound like that night? Was her voice full of pain? Unhappiness? Sorrow? Misery? He’d never know, yet he was so desperate to know.

Morgan and Bee were there too, but Fred practically forgot about them. They were quiet as they all listened, smiles on their faces as they watched Aleida perform with her band, but Fred was too busy to focus on them and the fun they were having listening to her. He was busy thinking about Aleida on stage, what they’d do after, what he’d say to her and she to him. A million things were running through his mind.

When the band finished their first set and took their break after a raucous round of applause from the audience, Fred practically leaped out of his seat. It took him a while to manoeuvre through all the tables and chairs and selfish people not moving for him, but eventually, he reached the back hallway and door where he figured the band was taking their break – where Aleida would be. He knocked impatiently.

The drummer answered the door, taking in Fred’s giant frame one foot at a time through the small crack. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice confident.

“Can I see Aleida please?”

“No.”

“No – I’m – I’m her friend,” Fred said, trying to peer into the room and get a glimpse of her. It wasn’t hard, considering how tall he was and how short the guy was, but he didn’t want to impede or intimidate him.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” the guy rolled his eyes.

“No no – I’m her friend, an actual friend,” Fred stressed.

“Listen. Aleida’s not coming out, alright? We’re back on stage in fifteen minutes – go sit back down at your table. If we let Aleida see everyone who claimed to know her she’d never get a break.”

He shut the door in Fred’s face.

It was at that moment that Fred realized Aleida didn’t tell anybody about him. That he was disconnected with her, that he was nothing more than just some guy wanting to see her. And there were, apparently, a lot of people wanting to see her.

His chest tightened.

He walked back to the table and downed the rest of his whisky sour.

After the second set, and when the show was over, Fred returned back to the back corridor, this time with Morgan and Bee in tow. They had been ready to go – Bee explicitly told him “We’re going to leave you alone with her now” – but wanted to be polite and say goodbye first. It was Bee who decided to knock on the door this time, and it swung open instead of just being cracked open like it had been for him. Bee charmed the drummer, and within five minutes, Aleida was out. She gave Bee and Morgan hugs after they gushed about her performance, and they went on their merry way.

Aleida turned towards Fred. “Did you like it?” she asked.

“You were phenomenal,” he said earnestly, meaning every word. “But…”

“But what?”

“I tried to come during your break but your drummer wouldn’t let me see you,” he said. He knew he sounded like a spoiled brat mixed with a wounded puppy but at this point he didn’t care. “You haven’t…you haven’t told anybody about me,” he said. He wasn’t here to sulk about it. He just wanted her to know he knew.

“I don’t want anybody to ruin you,” she said, wrapping her coat around her body.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Aleida gave him a look. “Nevermind. Now are we gonna go or what?”

***

This time, they went back to Fred’s condo.

It was a typical bachelor pad, furniture that looked comfortable enough but that Aleida knew came with the apartment. Professional athletes weren’t exactly known for their interior decorating skills. She knew Fred had a couple of drinks at Jazz Bistro, but he opened up his wine fridge and pulled out a white. He poured them glasses. They sat on his couch. Close.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You asked me what I was looking for – what I was trying to find by being the way that I am and acting the way I do. But you never said your answer to that,” she explained.

Their conversations always happened in the dark, and they always had to continue them, apparently. It was in the darkness where they shed light on themselves. Fred sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide either. “Balance.��

“Balance?”

“Balance,” he repeated. “An eternal search for balance.”

“Why balance?”

Fred shrugged his shoulders, trying to find the right words so that he made sense and didn’t misconstrue himself. “If there’s no balance, everything else falls too.”

Aleida couldn’t help but smile. His sentence was so simple but so loaded at the same time. He was so honest right off the bat. She had no choice but to respect him for that. There was no persona like there was with her – no ‘other side’ he put up when he was with her. She couldn’t say the same for herself, unfortunately. “That’s profound, Fred.”

He thought back to the profoundness of Bee’s statements on seeing when he told her about Aleida. Perhaps everybody was profound in their own way, and Fred had yet to realize that. It had taken him thirty years of his life, but he finally came to the realization. “It’s not, really – it’s what I need.”

“You need it?”

Fred nodded his head again. “It’s not a metaphor or anything like that. When I was a kid, even when I was a teenager, I’d get really competitive and I’d get really angry. Like, really angry. I’d erupt like a volcano. It was bad. I’ve learned how to compartmentalize it now, through a balance. And the more balance I find – in my emotions and in my workload and in all things, really – the more things turn out okay. The more I don’t erupt.”

It was perhaps the most he’d ever spoken in one sitting. He wasn’t exactly known as a man of many words, but Aleida apparently brought them out of him. And when she smiled again, he couldn’t help but blush. He hadn’t opened up like that in a while.

“What about what you want?” Aleida asked again. “You’re looking for balance but there must be something you want with that balance.”

Fred shook his head. It was tough to answer that honestly. He couldn’t do it without opening up what felt like his entire soul to her. But all he had to do was take one look at her to make the decision that he would. “It going to sound…whatever…but I want what Morgan and Bee have,” Fred whispered.

“You’re going to have to explain a bit more. They were lovely but I’m not sure what you mean,” Aleida said.

“They’re just…it’s hard to explain,” Fred sighed, feeling foolish that he was even saying this out loud. “They made me believe in the concept of soulmates. Like, Morgan’s only ever got his eyes on Bee. She could be talking, or cooking, or doing whatever, and he’s just…always looking at her. It’s the simplest thing. But he doesn’t have eyes for anybody else. His eyes don’t even see anybody else. The room could be burning and he’d be looking at Bee.”

Aleida thought back to when she met Morgan and Bee, and how much love and respect there was between them; how much Morgan doted on her and how much Bee cared about him. And she thought about Bee at the game; her distinct persona and the air and grace around her. “What do you mean ‘the room could be burning’?”

“You know,” Fred began, his tone denoting like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Things could be shit around them, but they’ve got each other. Morgan could be injured, or playing bad, or Bee could be super-stressed at work or – like, earlier this year, in January, her mother passed away, and she went through a really hard time. And then a while ago these awful girls began spreading the news that her mom was an alcoholic around town as gossip, and she was really affected by it. But through all that, they still had each other. They knew the other would always be there. So like, the world could be burning, but they know they have each other.”

As Aleida listened to Fred’s words, he could visibly see her face and demeanour change. She visibly…relaxed. She realized, right then and there, that she didn’t need to put up any type of front anymore whatsoever. There was no need for a façade. Fred was willing to show her a vulnerable side of him; she realized he deserved the same from her.

“Fred?” her voice was small as she shifted uncomfortably.

“Hmm?”

She looked at him. Her mouth draped open slightly in hesitation. His eyes were so…“I don’t know who I am,” she whispered. “All my life I’ve been defined by my parents and their jobs. Nobody ever saw me for me.”

“But your piano teacher did.”

Aleida nodded her head, a single tear falling down her cheek. “I’m still…grieving about that, you know. I don’t think anybody will ever truly know how much she meant to me. How much she helped me.”

“So why aren’t you finding yourself?” Fred asked. “Why are you letting others define you?”

Aleida shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t…I don’t know.”

Fred looked concerned. “You know Aleida, you lost somebody who saw you, but the second you did, you gained another.”

She nodded her head. She knew. And she could have cried right then and there, but she didn’t. Instead, she stared into Fred’s eyes, and he stared into hers, and they bonded. They knew. No more prefaces. No more facades. No more airs and graces. Just honesty.

He moved closer to her on the couch, and all she did was watch. For the first time since he had known her, he acted on his intrinsic need to touch her.

So he did. He reached out to touch her. To lay his hand down on her thigh.

Except when he did, she almost violently flinched back.

“What –”

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you—”

“I’m f—”

“Is everyth—”

“I’m fine, I’m sorry—”

Fred looked horrified. His mind was running a mile a minute thinking about the possibilities of why she had flinched at his touch. His eyes were wide and his body was stiff and he looked like he had just inadvertently broken an entire cabinet of fine china. “I—”

“Don’t,” she said sternly. “Nothing’s happened.”

“I don’t know if I believe y—”

“Well, believe me,” she said. “Others have just been less…soft.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it fucking means,” she said. “Not everybody who has touched my body has been a nice guy like you, Fred.” The horrified look didn’t exactly go away at her awful explanation. “I don’t mean it like th – no, no,” she stressed. “Nothing has happened. But people have felt entitled to my body since the second I turned eighteen. I’m not comfortable with my body.”

It was at that point that Fred’s eyebrows furrowed. For somebody so visually stunning, who had the perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect everything, he couldn’t believe those words escaped her mouth. “But y…you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.”

“But I actually mean it.”

“I know you do. So has everyone else. I own a mirror.”

Fred’s jaw moved in confusion. “What do you mean when you say people have felt entitled to your body since you turned eighteen?”

“It means my mother and sister are plastic surgeons and they’ve never seen a face or body they didn’t think they could perfect, and I’ve been reminded of that since my mom told me I could get lip injections if I wanted to.”

Fred realized what she was telling him. It punched him right in the gut. It took away the breath in his lungs and left his stomach in knots. He knew that girls always saw flaws in their bodies – he wasn’t stupid – but Aleida? This was a girl who so blatantly called out plastic surgery and lip fillers in others because she knew her mother did the procedures. Why would she do such a thing if she herself was self-conscious about it all? She was more complex than he thought, apparently. A Dr. Jekyll / Mr. Hyde.

“Aleida…” Fred said softly, after a long silence so they could both digest the words in their own way. “I want to touch you.”

“Okay,” she nodded her head.

He extended his arm again. This time, when he touched her, she didn’t flinch. She moved closer towards him until her entire body was touching his. Their wine glasses forgotten on the coffee table, Fred and Aleida moved until he could wrap his arms around her fully, pulling her down with him to lie down on the couch. His arms were so big, and his chest was so big, and everything about him, physically, was just so big and warm and Aleida felt completely and utterly repulsed with how she carried herself in comparison to him and how he carried himself. In every way she could think of, they were nothing alike. Yet here they were, wrapped into each other on a couch.

“You can’t tell anybody how vulnerable I am,” she whispered, cradling his face in her hand. Everything about him was so soft and everything about her was so rough, and she didn’t know how they came together.

He nodded his head.

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | prologue

A/N: Here. We. Go. Canon questions welcome (even though this is just the prologue).

Frederik Andersen was tired. He was tired, and it was nearly two o’clock in the morning, and he was walking down King Street West to get home. Except then he remembered: he remembered he couldn’t go home yet, because he needed to pick up toilet paper, and he couldn’t go home without toilet paper.

Or aftershave.

Or toothpaste.

He could never just go home like he wanted to – there always had to be something. Something that obstructed him from doing what he wanted to do, from getting himself to the comfort of his own home, from being the traditional homebody that he was. Something always thwarted his plans. Something always came up.

He sighed.

He took out his phone and opened Google Maps to make sure he hadn’t walked past the 24-hour Shopper’s Drug Mart yet. He knew it was a five-minute walk from his condo, but in the dark of night he knew it would be hard to see. It also didn’t help that it was obscured within an old building, the typically large, LED-signage not present like with others. Noticing that it was only the next block over, he hurried his pace, walking through the scores of girls in too-short dresses drunkenly tipping over on their stiletto heels grabbing onto one another for support and the boys desperate for their phone numbers following them out of the bars and clubs that lined the street with their phones in their hands and hope in their eyes.

Because it was two o’clock in the morning, the Shoppers Drug Mart was empty. There was one lady standing at a till, with all the self-checkouts still open. He wasn’t even sure if the pharmacist was present, looking towards the back to see if his suspicions were correct. It was quiet – so quiet he could practically hear the ringing of the lights above him. The only interruptions were giggles from girls outside or cars revving their engines.

Okay, toilet paper.

He grabbed a small basket, putting in a quick 6-roll package inside, knowing that it would probably last him until his next road trip, when – inevitably – he’d come home late at night and realize he was out of toilet paper and would have to run back to the same Shopper’s Drug Mart to get some so he could sleep peacefully.

Toothpaste.

He walked a few aisles over and was greeted with the wall of toothpaste. He grabbed an old favourite and chucked it into his basket.

Aftershave.

The previous aisle back. He realized his usual was locked up in a cabinet, and he wasn’t in the mood to go ask the one lady working the till to get the key and unlock it just for him. He had enough to last him. He made the decision to come back tomorrow. Or, technically, later today. When there was light outside.

Was there anything else?

Deodorant. He needed deodorant.

He walked the few aisles over to where he knew the deodorant was, and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw a figure. It was a person – that much he knew – in a stylish trench coat. A woman – mounds of hair twisted and tied with a scrunchie in a messy bun atop her head, the wisps of hair she didn’t happen to catch cascading down her back in perfectly manicured waves. Her back was to him. She was standing right in front of his deodorant.

He approached her slowly, making sure not to startle her – he was 6’3”, he knew he could startle people based on his size alone. But the closer he got to her, he realized she wouldn’t move. The closer he got to her, he realized she was either ignoring him or legitimately didn’t hear him.

The closer he got to her, he realized she was crying.

He heard it at first: soft sniffles, even softer whimpers, her body shaking slightly from her trying to keep it together and not descending into a full-on sob in the middle of the store. He still couldn’t see her face – only her hands and her hair still – but it was still awkward. He didn’t know what to do. It’s not like he had ever encountered a crying girl in the middle of a Shopper’s Drug Mart at two o’clock in the morning before. There was no precedent for this. Fifteen seconds ago he thought he was the only customer in the store.

“Um…excuse me?” Fred asked in as gentle of a voice he could muster.

The poor girl jumped in shock. She turned her head towards him quickly, like a flash, not long enough in the slightest to get a good look at her. “Oh my God…” she mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Fred asked as she began wiping her face with her hand. It was then, and only then, when she turned her head slightly to look at him, that he got a good look at her.

He knew that she was taken aback by his soft intrusion, but to say that her features took him aback was an understatement. In less than a second, he was completely and utterly transfixed. Rich, dark brown hair. Perfectly tanned and contoured skin as smooth and flawless as glass. Dominant eyebrows that framed her face. Perfectly cut cheekbones blushed and highlighted. Lips – God, her lips – full and bow-shaped, pained with a daring red.

Her eyes full of tears, with striking hazel irises, were staring directly into his soul.

She was, quite possibly, the most strikingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and would ever see, in his life.

“I’m fine, Fred,” she said, in a voice equally as soft as his. He noticed her shuffle away from him nervously, refusing to stay too close. “I’m – I’m sorry – I –”

Fred’s brows furrowed at the mention of his name. He had never seen this girl before in his life. And he’d know if he’d seen her before. How did she know who he was? He knew he played for the Toronto Maple Leafs but…well…this wasn’t a girl who looked like she was into hockey. He knew he should never judge a book by its cover and all that, but still. “How do you know who I am?”

A certain look flashed across her face – a look he couldn’t read. It could have been disgust. It could have been sorrow. It could have been surprise. It could have been anything, really, and the fact that he didn’t know made him upset. “I just performed at the function you came from.”

He was taken aback by her answer. He had just left a charity gala – a busy one at that, with hundreds of people in attendance – and he’d heard the music being performed there…well, there was the music during the cocktail hour, and the performers during dinner, and the live band when the dancing started, and…she was there? Which one was she? He…he would have noticed her. He would have listened. If he saw somebody like her approaching the stage or at a piano he’d notice, God damn it he’d notice, but he didn’t remember…

“I’m sorry I’m in the way,” her voice interrupted his internal battle as she moved away. Her heels clicked on the ground below them and each step further away from him was like nails on a chalkboard to Fred. She turned the corner.

“Wait – wait – who – are you sure – why are you crying?” he asked. He wanted to move but his feet were cement, stuck to the floor like heavy columns. He couldn’t even formulate the right words. He sounded like an idiot. The only thing that kept flashing in his mind – not the rows upon rows of different brands of deodorant – the only thing he could see in front of him were her eyes. Her striking hazel eyes.

Bright but full of darkness.

Full of life but full of sorrow.

So vivacious but so unhappy.

After a few moments, Fred was able to get his footing again, his own shoes clacking against the floor as he rushed over to the end of the aisle to catch her in the next.

Except she wasn’t there.

He turned around, going to the next aisle.

The next aisle. The next. The next.

Not there. Not there. Not there.

He looked towards the window. There were more people on the sidewalks now, since bars had their last call and everybody had to filter out. He dropped his basket and ran outside, towering over everyone passing him. He looked to his left to see if he could find her trench coat and heels walking through the crowds. He looked to his right to see if he could find her messy bun and scrunchie.

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere. It was like she had disappeared into thin air, never to be heard of or seen again. Was she a figment of his imagination? Was she just a hallucination? Something that his mind conjured up at two in the morning after a charity gala? It was impossible. This wasn’t Hamlet. He wasn’t Hamlet. No ghost was going to appear to him, speak to him, call him his name and know he went to a function that night. No overtired or overactive imagination would do that – the least not his.

“Sir? Sir are you going to pay for your items or should I re-shelve them?” the poor cashier called out to him from inside the store, lifting his basket in his arms. “Should I ring you up?”

He took one more look to his right. One more look to his left. Nothing. Should he ask the cashier? That might make him sound like a stalker. The last thing he needed was this cashier calling the cops on him because he wanted to follow a female stranger out of the store.

“Sir?”

He sighed. He took in a big gulp of the crisp night air to make sure he was still…alive. Cognizant. Conscious. He thought about the encounter: brief but life-changing. At least for him. He thought about her trench coat, her heels, her lips, her tears, her voice, her eyes; everything imprinted in his mind so they were unforgettable.

He resolved: he’d scour every face in Toronto, he’d look into every pair of eyes until he found hers again.

“I’m coming,” he finally called out, walking in through the out door.

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | 8

A/N: Again, I can’t thank you all enough for reading this! Let me know what you think! Remember that there is still the epilogue next Monday

Also, BE PREPARED FOR CLUES ABOUT MY NEW STORY. ONE CLUE A DAY (STARTING TUESDAY) UNTIL THE FINAL ANNOUNCEMENT IS MADE ON FRIDAY!

Fred didn’t know what time was anymore.

It had been months, probably, since he last saw Aleida. But he didn’t know how many. A couple, definitely. A few, maybe. Several, probably? He didn’t know. Everything was a blur now, and nothing felt real. He still “lived” his life, so to speak – he still played hockey, he still brushed his teeth every morning, he still ate food – but nothing had any meaning anymore. Nothing had purpose. Everything in his life, everything, felt empty and hollow, like no matter what went into it, it would never be whole.

Everybody around him noticed. Everybody knew. Word had gotten around the locker room, but whenever anybody tried to approach him about it, he simply walked away. It was his way of telling them he didn’t want to talk about it. Sometimes he’d even give them a glare and they’d back off, knowing better. The wives and girlfriends got word of it, too, and for lack of a better term they stayed away, for the most part. Steph didn’t gloat in his face, which was nice, although she did keep saying things to others – things he’d catch wind of thank to Mitch’s big mouth (or Steph’s own big mouth if she was in the same room).

Sometimes, he just wanted to forget Aleida happened. Other times, it was all he wanted to remember for the rest of his life.

He isolated himself. He didn’t speak to many people much. He’d stay in, not go out, order takeout. Auston called sometimes, texted often, but Fred gave him generic answers. Morgan would check in from time to time, mostly with the preface of “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but…”. Bee would call, demand she’d talk to him, but he’d give her the same generic answers he’d give Auston or Morgan.

Until she showed up at his condo one day with Chinese takeout.

“You’re talking to me,” she said as she pushed through the door, his big body moving for her easily as she walked through the hallway before setting her keys and the takeout bags down on the counter.

Fred looked down the corridor to see if Morgan was following behind, but he was nowhere to be found. He accepted the situation and closed the door, walking through his apartment slowly to find Bee already opening the containers of food. “What’s there to talk about?” he asked as he sat down at one of his barstools.

Bee shot him a look. “I’m worried about you,” she started. It brought him back to all those months ago when so many of the wives and girlfriends tried to approach him about Aleida. With Bee things were always different.

“What’s there to worry about?” he asked, voice empty.

“If you don’t smarten up and talk to me, I’ll leave,” she warned sternly. She wasn’t here to play games or beat around the bush, and she wanted to make it known. Her tone straightened Fred up a little bit. He knew he couldn’t get away with any bullshit with Bee. She’d been through enough.

“What do you want to talk about?” he mumbled.

“I don’t want to talk about anything,” she said. “You need to talk about what happened, because it’s eating away at you and I hate to see you like this.”

Fred sighed heavily. “I’ll start from the beginning…”

And he did. He started from the beginning – well, at least, what he thought was the beginning. And he explained everything to Bee – as much as he could – until he got to the final moments. That’s when he tried to include every detail. And when he was finished, and their Chinese takeout was cold, Bee’s face was stuck in a sort of stoic kind of reserve. She was clearly mulling over everything and didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think. The situation was all very unique to Fred and Aleida, naturally, and she had no experience with this sort of thing because, well, nobody was like Aleida.

“I can’t believe that all happened,” was what Bee finally came up with. “I can’t believe…I can’t believe she said all those things.”

“You and me both.”

“She doesn��t mean them, you know,” she finally said, practically blurted out. “I mean, it’s so obvious. She doesn’t mean them.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well I do,” Bee said more assertively. “She doesn’t mean them at all. She said them out of fear.”

“Fear of what?”

“Fear of…I don’t know, love? Being with someone who actually appreciates her instead of uses her?” Bee offered. “She barely has any experience with that. You said so yourself. And when she was finally confronted with it in the form of you, she didn’t know what to do. Her fight-or-flight response was to self-sabotage.”

Fred shook his head. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to believe. “I don’t know, Bee…”

“Fred…” she said, moving around the island to rub his shoulder. “You’ve been a shell for months. Have you thought about trying to find her? Trying to talk to her and—”

“You think I haven’t?!” he asked, the first time his voice was barely above a mumble. Bee was taken aback a bit, but continued to listen. “Do you honestly think that I haven’t thought about doing that? She told me she didn’t love me, Bee. I told her I’d walk out that door and never see her again if she told me she didn’t love me, and she told me.”

“But Fred, she didn’t mean it—”

“She did mean it, she did,” he stressed, shaking his head. He was becoming emotional reliving that conversation in his head. “There’s nothing I can do about it, Bee. She doesn’t love me. She never did. At least not the way that I loved her. I just can’t…I can’t…” the tears were welling in his eyes.

Bee hugged him. It was all she could do. She held him tight in her arms as he buried his head in her shoulder and cried.

***

Fred was wandering. It was dark, late at night, he wasn’t sure what time it was, he wasn’t sure what day it was, he wasn’t sure where he was in the city, he wasn’t sure about anything at all. Everything was a blur. He was just wandering. Wandering to find a semblance of any feeling; wandering to fill a void that couldn’t be filled; wandering to find something that couldn’t be found. Every soul he passed on the street was empty to him. Every storefront that shined with neon lights – empty. He couldn’t find life in anything or anyone around him, because there was no life left in him anymore.

“Hey bud,” he heard a voice call out to him from where he was about to approach. “Bud, hey bud, you lookin’ for a good time?”

Fred stood stoic in his place. He looked up, trying to see a sign for the place, but either he was blind or there was none there. Not the greatest start, but Fred digressed. “A good time.”

“Yeah. A good time, you know? Good time,” he kept repeating. His voice was sleazy. “Twenty bucks cover. You wanna come in?”

What did Fred have to lose? If this man was telling the truth, he was telling the truth – he would have a good time. If he wasn’t and he was leading Fred to be robbed or to his death instead…well, that was the risk Fred was taking. Fred fumbled around with his wallet and slipped the guy a twenty-dollar bill before going down the few steps into the basement bar.

He was fairly surprised to see the bar full of patrons sitting at tables full of wine bottles and glasses, paying attention to something that was happening against a wall he couldn’t see yet. The further he got into the venue, the more he saw: a man was playing an acoustic guitar, crooning the audience with his voice and melody. Some middle-aged women were smiling and swaying along; their husband’s hyper-focused on their beers or watching the man on stage.

“Sir, you need to take the table all the way at the back,” a man tried to push him along. “Right at the back, sir. One of the last tables.”

Fred followed absent-mindedly – again, not knowing if he was being led to a mugging or death. When they finally got to the table, Fred sat facing the stage, and a waitress immediately uncorked a bottle of wine and pored him a glass. He gulped it all in one go. She looked at him strangely before filling up his glass again. He drank that one too.

“Save some for your date,” she said loud enough to be heard over the music as she poured him a third glass in a row.

“Who says I have a date?” he asked.

“I bet a guy like you has no trouble getting a date,” she smirked.

He didn’t even care that she was flirting. It didn’t even register to him. It went in one ear and out the other – just…completely devoid of any feeling. Maybe she was just doing it for a generous tip, anyway.

The patrons began clapping as the man completed his song, bowing dramatically and putting his hand over his heart as a gesture of thankfulness before walking off the stage. There were some rumblings before another man came out – who Fred assumed to be the host – in a suit and tie with a microphone in his hand. “Give it up for Michael Keyes, huh! What a performance!”

There was another round of applause. Fred groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He wanted to take the glass full of wine and the bottle and just do a mad dash out of there. He didn’t even know why he agreed to come in ninety seconds ago. What was he even doing? What was he trying to find?

“The next presenter of our open performance night…well, she really needs no introduction. She’s is a face you may know very well, as she is a performer here often. You’ll often see her at events around the city performing with her band. And you know what? I’m just going to let her singing do the talking.”

Maybe he should just get up and leave. He’d give the sleazy guy outside $100 to shut up if he yelled at him for leaving.

He heard another polite round of applause as he continued to have his eyes shut. Some clacking of heels and dress shoes walking across the stage. The bench of the piano being adjusted. Some strums of guitar. A clear of the throat. The quietest count in.

And then eerily familiar guitar notes, played along with the piano. Notes that sounded like they were void, depressed, like they were crying. Notes that when strung together made one of his favourite melodies. Notes that he’d listened to through a pair of headphones countless times. He knew those notes anywhere. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer. He smiled to himself, his eyes still closed as he readied himself for the lyrics to start.

It’s not a silly little moment

His body stiffened.

It’s not the storm before the calm

His eyes jolted open.

This is the deep and dying breath of This love that we’ve been working on…

He knew that voice anywhere.

Her.

It was her.

Can’t seem to hold you like I want to

Aleida.

So I can feel you in my arms

ALEIDA.

Nobody’s gonna come and save you

ALEIDA!

We pulled too many false alarms

His body felt like it was on fire. Like the fire of a thousand suns had just exploded within him. His heartbeat had stopped the second she started singing, and he was pretty sure he still wasn’t breathing. The world around him stopped.

We’re going down And you can see it, too We’re going down And you know that we’re doomed My dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room

Aleida was singing. On stage. Oscar was playing the guitar on his vintage archtop. She was there, in the flesh, her voice cascading throughout the room like waves.

I was the one you always dreamed of You were the one I tried to draw How dare you say it’s nothing to me? Baby, you’re the only light I ever saw

She closed her eyes at that point. He swore he saw tears welled up in her eyes before she did, but maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe this was all just a dream, a sick hallucination his mind concocted. Maybe he’d officially gone insane.

I’ll make the most of all the sadness You’ll be a bitch, because you can You try to hit me, just to hurt me So you leave me feeling dirty ‘Cause you can’t understand

It was definitely her. Definitely. He still felt like he wasn’t breathing. He wanted to get up, but his entire body felt like it was full of cement. Just like when he first found her. He couldn’t move his legs, his arms, anything. He was stuck in his spot at his table, the fire within him burning.

We’re going down And you can see it, too We’re going down And you know that we’re doomed My dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room

Oscar played the short guitar interlude expertly, just like Fred knew he would, as Aleida kept the tempo going on the piano.

Go cry about it, why don’t you?

He swore she was talking to him.

Go cry about it, why don’t you?

He swore she was talking to herself.

Go cry about it, why don’t you?

He swore she could see him in the audience, but he knew she couldn’t because of how dark and how far back he was.

My dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room

As she looked out into the crowd, she practically made direct eye contact with him. He shivered. And as the next music break came in, she and Oscar effectively switched; he kept up the tempo of the song on his guitar, while she freelanced on the piano, a delicate mix between loud and roaring but soft and crying – a definite anger in the notes but also a sadness. Something only Aleida could create.

Don’t you think we ought to know by now? Don’t you think we should have learned somehow?

He did know by now. He did learn.

Don’t you think we ought to know by now? Don’t you think we should have learned somehow?

The fire in him made him finally able to stand up. He did so dramatically, rocking the table loud enough so the people beside him looked at him. And as he made his way through the crowd, through the sea of tables and wine glasses so he could be within Aleida’s line of sight, he made even more noise. None of that mattered.

He needed to see her. He needed her to see him.

Don’t you think we ought to know by now?

Aleida sang out the last lines, looking out into the audience with definite tears in her eyes. Despite being in a room full of people, she had never felt so empty before; never felt as isolated as she did. Even with Oscar there. As she looked out, she noticed a giant figure in the middle of it all. She blinked once, to clear the welling of tears in her eyes.

Tall. Wide. Ginger hair. Ginger beard.

Freddie.

It was Freddie.

He was here. He was…he was here.

Aleida’s heart stopped beating. Everything around her stopped. Suddenly, she was not in a bar full of people in downtown Toronto performing with Oscar. It was just her, with her piano.

And Fred.

Don’t you think we should have learned somehow?

As they played their final notes – Aleida absent-mindedly – the crowd began a raucous applause. Fred was staring right at her, right into her soul, and she was doing the same to him. Her body went stiff. She couldn’t move. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

He was all Aleida had thought about these past months. He haunted her dreams. He haunted every waking moment she had because all she could think about was him. All she could remember was him. All she wanted to be remember was him. But she had been so cruel to him. She had ruined him like she knew she would inevitably. She’d left him broken hearted, left him because she was scared. And there was no way for her to rectify it. There was no way for her to make it better, because she was never supposed to see him again. She was supposed to go her way, and he his. They were never supposed to meet.

But in his absence, and as part of her punishment, she ached. Her whole body ached for him. Her mind was a torture chamber of thoughts. All she could think about was his soft touch. How he held her. How he made her feel when she was with him. In the middle of the night, her body would tremble from the cold and the void, desperate from wanting his touch, his warmth. And she thought she was bound to wander the earth alone forever now, after what she had done to him. It was her punishment. To never know a love like his again. To look for it, but to never get it.

To look for him, but to never see him.

Yet here he was.

In front of her.

Looking at her.

Seeing her.

The bright lights shining down on the stage were nothing compared to his eyes. He lost himself in her eyes when he first met her in that Shopper’s Drug Mart, and now, she found herself as she stared into his.

Aleida stood up from her piano seat, not breaking eye contact, and rushed over to him desperately. He did so too, taking three long strides to meet her at the edge of the stage. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him passionately. She immediately felt his warmth. She immediately felt how soft he was. She immediately felt his love.

Aleida began to cry as she continued to kiss him. He was here, in her arms, and she could feel him, and it was all so overwhelming. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled against his lips, her tears wetting both their cheeks. “I’m so sorry, and I love you, and I couldn’t say it, and I was scared, but I love you. I love you so much Freddie.”

“I love you too, I love you too,” he mumbled, kissing her again.

***

“Freddie…make love to me Freddie, please, please,” Aleida sighed out as Fred’s body was on top of hers, the both of them already naked and on his bed within mere seconds of getting back to his place. She had thought about this and ached over it for so long that she was shaking in anticipation. She never wanted to be without it again; she never wanted to crave his physical touch like she had been.

Freddie, for his part, didn’t need to be told twice, and entered her in one swift movement, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her nails dragged along his shoulder blades and down his back as he pumped in and out of her slowly, passionately, making sure to make it last. He looked her in the eye. He made sure she was looking back at him. “I love you,” he finally said.

“I love you too.”

“I always have.”

Aleida nodded her head. She knew.

***

“You came back to me,” Aleida mumbled as they lay together in his bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. Fred’s touch was soothing; her body no longer ached. “You just appeared out of nowhere, but you came back to me.”

“I went looking,” he admitted quietly. “I went looking to fill the empty I was feeling without you in my life. And there you were.”

Aleida shifted slightly, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look down on him. “I’m sorry for everything,” she said, barely above a whisper, as her fingers from her other hand traced shapes on his broad chest. “I’m sorry for everything I said. Everything I did.”

Fred shook his head. He grabbed her hand tracing shapes on his chest and cradled it in his massive hand. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

“And I’m never going to leave,” she said definitively. He brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles tenderly. “No matter how scared I get, I’m never going to leave again. I promise you.”

Fred knew Aleida meant it.

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