NHL!Chris Evans x Female Reader -
When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, r...
Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)
Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the 'No Fraternization' clause in your employee contract, you're drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.
Warnings: TOOTHACHING SWEETNESS. FLUFF. FLUFFITY FLUFF. Language. (This series still has smut, minors DNI. 18+ Only)
W/C: 707
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris's family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Your fingers trailed the soft, worn cardboard of Chris's vinyl collection. He never struck you as the kind of person who... collected things. Much less records. But here you stood, in his living room staring at a very impressive collection of classic records.
Chris stood in the kitchen, a white dish towel slung over his left shoulder as he stirred something in a pot on the stove. "See anything you like?"
You raised an eyebrow suggestively, knowing he meant the records, but the laugh your stupid joke elicited was worth it. Smiling, you turned back to the shelf. "A few. This is... wow. I mean, Elvis, The Temptations, Etta James, Nat King Cole. I can't even imagine how much this collection must've cost."
"A lot of them came from my grandparents. Neither of them wanted them after the divorce... So, I took them. They remind me of my childhood."
This Chris was your favorite. The real Chris. The one who relaxed and smiled and told you about his childhood. The Chris that made you believe the Boston Brute was just a figment of everyone's imagination.
You smiled again, pulling out The Righteous Brothers record towards the top.
"That was one I listened to a lot. I thought that if I learned all the words to Unchained Melody, I could serenade my 7th-grade crush."
God. Of course he did.
You snorted, turning to look at your boyfriend. "Did it work?"
He shook his head with a smile. "God, no. She was mortified. Her name was Sarah Johnson. First person to break my heart. Well. The first person that I wasn't related to that is."
Like it has many times before, your heart ached for Chris. Neither of you had really been dealt an ideal hand when it came to life and you didn't pity him... but it broke your heart that someone like him who beneath the (literal) rock hard exterior, was so sweet and caring, put on this I-don't-give-a-fuck persona because he'd been through so much heartbreak at a young age and was tired of the hurt it inflicted.
"Well–" you paused, opening the protective cover over his record player and blowing off some of the dust, "–she sounds like an idiot." You placed the record down and dropped the needle, Unchained Melody flowing from the speakers.
You danced towards the kitchen, your languid movements drawing Chris in as you got closer.
He grinned, turning the burner down after one last stir and setting his spoon down, knowing what you were up to.
Chris extended his hand after ridding his shoulder of the dish towel and pulled you close, your cheek resting against his chest. His left hand enveloped your right while resting the other on the small of your back. You gripped his bicep with your free hand, swaying to the song slowly.
You felt his cheek fall against the top of your head, a slow breath of contentment blowing from his lungs, tickling the hair at the top of your head.
This was where you stayed.
Swaying gently in the kitchen, the steady beat of Chris's heart in your ear.
Towards the end of the song, you looked up at him, his blue eyes dancing with adoration for you.
Chris dipped down, soft and warm lips slanting over yours. It was a gentle kiss. Unhurried. One that both of you savored, just as much as this moment.
He pulled away, smiling down at you. "Thank you."
"For what?"
Chris hesitated, trying to figure out how to form the words he wanted to say. "Everything. A second chance. Your trust. For constantly showing me that I'm deserving of happiness. Thank you."
There weren't a lot of words that have left you speechless before, but these did.
You pulled his lips to yours, melting into his body while you swayed, the kiss just as gentle and meaningful as the last one. You were thankful that Chris was finally starting to understand that shitty people in his life doing shitty things, didn't mean he was destined for the same 'fate.'
Chris put up walls to protect himself. Walls that were somehow impenetrable to everyone except you. And you wouldn't stop until Chris felt deserving of one more thing.
