Hockey Imagines

44. #27 Alex Galchenyuk (Montreal Canadiens)

"Yeah, I agree," other guys support him with quiet mumbling.

"She's been doing great with us, coach," Max continues and flashes you a small smile. You return him a shy grin, thanking him for support. However, tears are still tickling you in your eyes from all the embarrassment you've just been through. You consider yourself as somehow tough, but being embarrassed in front of the entire team is not something you'll get over easily.

"Let's just hope she proves her worthiness soon," coach huffs and heads out. Just before the door close, he peeks in again, looking at you: "You better prove yourself worth playing in the NHL soon."
"Yes, coach," you nod and as soon as the door close pull on your jersey.

"Alright, guys. And a girl. Let's get back out there and continue playing our game. I believe in us. In our win. Now let's go out there and use those twenty minutes, turn the game around and score some goals. Are you with me?"
"YEAH!" you shout with the others. After this short and motivational pep talk you want to follow the others, but someone stops you right before exiting the room. You look up and see Alex's warm eyes looking down at you.

"Thanks for standing up for me earlier."

"Anytime. We all did mistakes all the time. Well, I still do them sometimes. Don't worry, you'll get better."
"If I will be still on the team for that long..."
"Now listen to me! Stop thinking like that. You work hard, just scoring apparently isn't your thing. Now let's get out there and show those people a girl can play pro hockey in the NHL."

He pats your back and you walk to the ice side by side. Conversation with him made you miss the warm-ups and you can just skate to the bench, where coach is already drawing game schemes on his board: "We're going to try something. Y/L/N on the same line as Galchenyuk since they get along so good."

"We can do this," Alex whispers to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, and before you take your shift on the ice, he playfully nudges your arm. Together you jump on the ice and as soon as your skates touch the ice, you chase after the puck. Since you are pretty small and petite-looking, skating fast is one of your advantages. Still, Alex reaches the puck sooner, over plays the entire defense line and yells to you: "Get to the goal, Y/N/N!"

Dodging other players, you speed down the rink and stop in front of the goalie. Alex passes you the puck and you snipe it into the net, puck hitting the back of it. You raise your arms in celebration, pride of scoring first NHL goal overtaking you, when a strong force throws you on the ice, knocking the air out of your lungs. Plus, your head gets dangerously close to the post with a speed that could be life threatening. When you get yourself back together enough to look up, you notice a brawl has already started. You want to skate closer, but someone stops you. At your surprise the hand which is holding you back doesn't belong to any of your teammates, but to the opponents' goalie: "Great snipe. But you better stay out of it."
"But they are fighting because of me..."
"No. What he," he nods his head in the direction of his own teammate, " did... it was cheap. Not because you are a girl, but because the goal was already scored and he knocked you down on purpose."

"I know... but it's because of me...wait, why are you actually being nice to me?"
"Well, let's be honest, a girl playing in the NHL. You must be damn good. And your snipe has just proved that. I don't know, I think you are cool to play with a bunch of goons. But you are right, so please don't freak out...I am going to push you away. It looks very odd having a nice chat with opponent's goalie on whom you've just scored a goal. But again, great shot, kiddo," he shoves you away lightly, but you still nearly slip.

You look over to a group of angered players and see Alex was the one who dropped his gloves for you. And few other guys. But Alex was the one who was in the center of attention, trying to beat the guy who knocked you down hard. But the other guy is faster and the fight ends when he tackles Alex down. You wince when you notice his eye bruising badly.

"Number 27 of Montreal, Alex Galchenyuk, two minutes for roughing," announcer tells the crowd and a mutual groan can be heard from the stands. The groan, in fact, so loud, you don't hear that the other player had to leave the game.

The game ends with Montreal winning by one goal. Even more, the game-winning-goal was scored by you, making your second goal in one night. As soon as the game ends, all of the guys jump on you: "You did it, Y/N! You scored twice in one night, assisted on the goal and even more, scored the GWG!"

"I really did, Gally!" you yell back, surrounded by your extremely happy and proud teammates. A huge smile, stretching from one cheek to another, is playing on your lips for the entire team. You did it. You proved yourself.

"Hey, guys, let Alex through! After all she scored her first NHL goal with his assistance!" Max shouts and the others make way for Alex.

"Y/N," he smiles widely before lifting you up like you are lighter than air. You laugh, feeling each gaze from fans and both teams on the two of you, but not really caring about it. He spins on his skates, making you a bit dizzy from all that fast spinning.

"Alex, put me down," you squeal, which only makes him laugh: "You are my champion!"

"Yours?" you look down at him questionably. He finally puts you down on the ice, his hand still on your waist. His eyes meet yours and you notice a never-seen-before spark in those wonderful eyes of his. He pulls you closer to him, the only thing between your chests and preventing you to hear his soothing heart beat, your chest protectors. Like once before, he leans down and whispers to your ear: "My brave champion."

You push away from him and look up at his eyes: "My wonderful assistant."

His laugh, that smile when he throws back his head and laughs like there is no tomorrow, makes your knees weak.

Seconds pass, long seconds of locked gazes and forgetting the others, before he leans down, connecting your lips into a kiss. You hear the other guys holler and wolf-whistle, but you really couldn't care less. Your eyes close automatically and you get completely lost in the taste of his lips, the feeling of his strong arms on your back and the familiar scent of him.

When he (hardly) pulls away, he whispers: "What does that make us?"
"You tell me, Galchenyuk. I think it makes us a couple, but I don't know. You are a heartthrob, not me."
"I've found my dream girl," he says before kissing you again, this time more passionately.