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...
The Boston Brute Series Drabble: Cut From The Same Cloth
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: Language, I think. Parental Death (terminal cancer), suicide mentioned. Fluff. As always, please let me know if I missed anything!
W/C: 1.4k
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.
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"Tell me about her."
You sucked in a breath, lifting your head from Chris's chest to follow his line of sight to a picture of you and your mom on your nightstand. You knew this conversation would be coming sooner rather than later, but that didn't make it any easier to have.
Chris's fingers moved lazily up and down your spine, his lips pressing softly against your hairline. "If you want to."
You nodded, resting your chin against his chest. "I do, it's just– It kind of just feels like a wound that never fully heals, and then whenever I talk about her, I'm reopening it all over again."
He hugged you a little tighter to his body, another kiss finding your forehead. "It doesn't have to be now. Just whenever you're ready." His free hand came up, his thumb brushing your cheek. "She raised a pretty fucking amazing human being. I'd love to hear more about her because I'm willing to bet the apple didn't fall far from the tree."
Smiling softly, you blinked back tears at his comment. Everyone always told you you were just like your mother.
Not that they had anyone else to compare you to.
Your mom was an only child with dead parents and you had a deadbeat dad. It was just her.
Your neighbor, Mrs. Greene, used to tell the two of you all the time that you were cut from the same cloth. You smiled softly, thinking about the first time she told you that when you were around 6.
It had taken your mom ages to explain what that phrase meant.
"What's that smile for?"
Your smile widened a little. "Your comment made me think of my neighbor. We had this old lady that lived next to us, Mrs. Greene. I never did learn her first name. But she always used to say that my mom and I were 'cut from the same cloth'. I didn't understand what she meant the first time she said it. I think I was 5 or 6. But my mom spent hours trying to explain that it didn't mean I was made out of cloth."
