Bradley Simpson Imagines

hockey (img, 102)

You had a scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, jacket done up all the way to the top and a hot beverage situated in your hands as you watched the game unfold.

Bradley, number thirty-seven as you liked to call him in moments of horseplay between the two of you, was currently on the bench.

He hadn't done anything wrong, but for some reason coach wasn't letting him play much tonight.

It frustrated you almost as much as it did him, and it was a stupid call because Brad was one of the best players they had.

Third period was coming to an end, and Brad hadn't touched the ice once.

Growing more and more irritated, you make your way to the gating around where the players come out, motioning to his coach to come see you.

The only reason he obliged was because he knew you were dating Brad.

"Y/N,"

"Coach, excuse my language... but what the fuck are you doing?"

His head jolts back in surprise, his features following.

"Explain?"

"Why haven't you put Brad on at all this period? You're down two points. Use your head please."

He rolls his eyes slightly at how upfront you were, glancing back to Bradley's slouched body on the bench.

"You best hope this doesn't fuck us up." He murmurs, and before he can walk away you grasp his suit-clad shoulder.

"Your best player right now is sitting on the bench. I'm not the one fucking this up."

—————

Two minutes into Brad being on the ice, he had already assisted a goal.

Smiling softly at your boyfriend as he skated up to his teammates in a big happy huddle.

It was the last minute of the game, and the opposing team had removed their goalie in order to get an extra player out to defend.

The game was tied.

Next point won.

It was to the point where the refs stopped calling plays as harshly as before, noting how aggressive the players were starting to get.

It was getting hard to even find the puck on the ice anymore, until you saw an opening, and Brad skates through it.

Never have you jumped out of your seat faster as he made a breakaway for the open net, the other team trying to catch up but having no avail.

With only half a second left, Bradley had scored the winning goal, and won provincials for the team.

—————

You made your way quickly down towards the players entrance, walking towards their change rooms— excited to see your boyfriend.

Murmuring a quick 'excuse me' to other players girlfriends, who all of which gave you a friendly smile, you jog lightly over to number thirty seven, jumping on his back.

Normally, you would think it was a bad idea— him being in skates and all, but he had better balance than the average hockey player.

Brad chuckles lightly, turning his helmet invaded head towards you with a smile.

"Hey, angel," he grins, his mouth guard kept between his teeth.

"Hi, baby," you smile back, dropping from his back so he can turn towards you.

He quickly pulls his helmet off, sweat covered hair falling over his eyes, never breaking eye contact from you.

He then grabs your head, even with the hockey gloves still on and brings his mouth to yours.

Pulling back on slightly, he hums against your mouth.

"Thanks for putting some sense into coach's head.."

"Anytime.. for you, anytime."

"My good luck charm... or.. I guess.. my aggressive girlfriend that won't take shit for an answer—"

"Hey!"

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i know i haven't updated it's quiet here in like... forever & i apologize
i'll try to soon