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: Language, I think. Some fluff. Nothing too crazy!
W/C: 724
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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You rolled over to face Chris, the sheets of his bed, cold against your bare skin. "That's the first time you ever saw me?!" Your mouth dropped open while Chris chuckled, his arm sneaking under you to pull you closer.
He shrugged. "I mean, are you really that surprised? You guys were together for like... ever."
Chris had just revealed to you that the first time he'd ever laid eyes on you, was an Instagram post from fucking Dean. And you knew precisely what post he was talking about.
Dean had just won the Stanley Cup and it was his turn to have the cup for the day. All he wanted to do was take a picture of you on his lap while he ate Lucky Charms out of the bowl. You fought him on it for hours because you had also just found out that he'd cheated on you.
Your bag was packed. You were going to leave. But he begged and begged until your resolve finally cracked and you agreed to one picture because at this point, taking the damn picture would probably get you away from him faster.
He claimed his mother wanted it, but you should've known that wasn't the case. His mother couldn't stand you. You didn't come from money, so in her eyes, you weren't fit for her son.
But you sat on his lap and plastered on a fake smile and let the picture be taken.
20 minutes later while Dean shot-gunned beers in the backyard with his douchebag friends, you were loading your bags into Marlowe's car and never looked back.
Thank god.
Chris's hand traced lines up and down your spine while he spoke, "I remember the day that I saw that post... your face. It just looked... off. I don't know how to describe it. But I remember–" he paused, his face flushing pink.
"I was jealous. I mean, fucking Dean Whittaker of all douchebags, had someone fucking gorgeous on his lap and it was so obvious that you weren't happy. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that you were with him. And then I met you and it pissed me off even more because everything in my head told me I was just like him any way and I was scared that if I did let myself feel anything towards you, I'd take a picture with you and your smile would look just like that one."
You took a sharp breath at his confession. There was a small pause while you tried to find the words to convince Chris that he was nothing like Dean, but you knew he needed visuals.
You rolled away from him, grabbing your phone from his nightstand and immediately going to your text thread with Marlowe. She had a tendency to take a million candid photos while you were hanging out and there were several of you looking at Chris with nothing but love and adoration.
After pulling them up, you turned your phone to face Chris.
"Look at my face Chris. Do you see how I look at you? You and Dean aren't even close to being the same person, baby. I am so much happier with you."
Chris studied the picture on your phone, smiling softly as he took it in.
You were in the kitchen with Chris, a huge smile on your face while you craned your neck to look up at him. His hand was secured around your waist, his smile matching yours as he pulled you into his chest. You might as well have had heart eyes because you've never looked at anyone the way you look at him.
"Can you send me those?"
A smile spread across your lips as the realization of just how happy you were together hit him. "Of course."
He handed your phone back to you and pulled you closer, his lips pressing to your forehead briefly. "Promise me something?"
"What's that?" You asked, snuggling into his bare chest.
"I know we can't post it... But when we win the cup this year, promise you'll take a picture with me like those?"
Your smile grew. "Chris, I will take pictures with you like that until we're old and grey."
"Promise?" He murmured against the skin of your cheek.
