For thekanershuffle , hope you'll like it!:)
When you and Nathan started dating, you were fifteen and he was eighteen. It was shortly after his birthday in December when he asked you whether you'd like to be his girlfriend. Having crush on him for a long time, you accepted. Well, that made you happy, but it didn't make your parents really proud. Furthermore, they didn't like him at all. They hated he had taken you away from the home nest when you were, in their opinion, childish enough to fall for a player, who would probably break your heart. When you and Nathan became official, everyone expected your relationship not to last long, due to your age difference. They considered it for just another teenage crush.
Now, six years later, you are thinking about settling down, getting married someday. Even though you are barely twenty one, you know spending life with Nathan us everything you could ever wish for. But the problem is, you are coming from traditional family and you don't believe in marriage without your father's approval. And that's the catch. Your parents still hate Nathan and they still didn't forgive him for taking you away from home when you were eighteen. They would probably easily kill him than allow him to marry you.
It's a lazy Saturday evening, one of really rare occasions Nathan is free and you two are sitting on your couch, cuddling and once again, talking about future, family, marriage and kids. But tonight, Nathan seems unusually nervous, his eyes are jumping from you to the floor and further to the entrance door. Because you are used to him being a nervous wreck a day before the game, you don't directly ask him why he's nervous.
"Thinking about the game tomorrow?"
"Uh? Yeah."
"Who are you facing?"
"Vancouver. Y/N, baby, I've already told you that."
"I know you did. I just though talking about the game might reduce stress."
"I am not nervous," he tries to act carelessly, but his voice breaks.
"We've been together for six years. I know what are you like when you are nervous."
"It's not about the game. It's-" he finally admits, but gets cut off by a bell. You shoot him a questionable glance, but he pretends he didn't see it before he gets up and walk towards the door. You also notice his hands are shaking and how he wipes them in his trousers.
When he opens the door, you almost get a heart attack: "Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?"
In the same time Nathan comes to the living room and says with a sour smile: "I'll wait here. Your parents want you to welcome them at the door."
"O-Okay."
You go to the hallway, where your parents are already standing inside the house.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"Beaulieu invited us," you father answers with a frown.
"His name is Nathan and you know that."
"Doesn't matter. And now he is hiding, right?"
"Wrong," Nathan appears behind your back and steps further, so he is standing next to you.
"Why did you invite us?"
"I invited you to spend few days with Y/N and me because I want to prove you I have serious intentions with your daughter, sir."
"Nat-" you try to get his attention and possibly make him change his mind for good.
"Please, mister Y/L/N, I want to prove you how much Y/N means to me."
After few intense moments, which seem like hours, your father sighs and says: "Fine. Y/M/N, come on."
When your mother walks past Nathan, you hear her say: "You better prove yourself, boy. And you better make out way down worth it."
As soon as your parents are far enough, you turn to Nathan and grab his shoulder. Compared to him, you are not exactly the strongest person and he could easily move away. He senses how pissed you are and feels how strong is your grip on his shoulder, so he just looks at you: "What?"
"What are you doing? Why did you invite them?"
He sighs a bit wearingly: "I did this for you. for us. Y/N, I want to marry you one day and-"
"Y/N, darling, is how you hang out with guests?"
Nathan and you exchange a look, meaning only one thing. This is gonna be hell of a weekend.
On a Sunday morning you wake up alone, Nathan's side of the bed empty. Before you call for him, you remember he is probably on the morning practice, preparing for tonight's game. But when you open bedroom door, you hear him convincing someone: "Sir, please. I love Y/N and her happiness means everything to me. Please, let me marry your daughter.
"You took her away from me and her mom when she was barely eighteen. And you took her heart when she was only fifteen. Do you really expect me to like you?"
"We've been together fox six years now. I have already even made a plan to propose her. And would it be different if we didn't start when she was fifteen?"
Seconds pass before you hear your father's response: "I still don't like you, but you make my baby girl happy and that's all I want. And no, I probably still wouldn't like you. Just mark my words. Hurt her and you will never play hockey again, are we clear?"
"We are sir. So, I do have your permission to marry Y/N?"
"Don't make me regret that."
You've heard enough, so you slowly walk down the stairs and in the kitchen, where you start making yourself a cup of coffee. While you are waiting for your coffee to brew, your hear entrance door open and close, followed by your father's footsteps.
"Morning, dad. How did you sleep?" you greet him with a smile and take a sip of your beverage.
"I need to talk to you about your boyfriend," he answers instead of wishing you a good morning.
"What about Nathan?" you emphasize his name. God, your father is driving you insane by not naming your boyfriend.
"Do you picture your life with him? Day after day, week after week, until one of you dies?"
"What kind of questions are those? Of course I do! Dad, I love him."
"I don't want you to marry a silly teenage crush..."
"Dad, we've been together for six years. I think if it was just a teenage crush, we wouldn't be together anymore. It would last probably two years or so."
"I don't want you to feel under pressure."
"Right now, you are the only one who is putting me under pressure. And if you want me to break up with him, you are not gonna see it happen," you state, leaving him in no doubt about your words. Then you walk back to your bedroom and lock the door. The only thing you want right now I some peace.
In the late afternoon, you and your parents head to the Bell Centre, where Habs are playing against Canucks.
"Is Nathan a good player?" your father asks and calls Nathan by his name for the first time, surprising you. But you are squeezed behind your father's seat and still not in the mood for a conversation.
"They all are, dad. They made it to the NHL."
"What about statistic?"
You roll your eyes: "We don't talk about stats much."
"I've heard hockey players are usually cheaters," you mother joins the conversation with her usual yellow-pages BS.
"Dad was also a pro hockey player," you smile innocently in response. Both, your mom and dad, look at you with a death glare and furrowed eyebrow and you decide it would be better for you to keep your mouth shut.
When you arrive to the Bell Centre, you show your parents where their seats are and head to the Habs' dressing room just like before every home game to wish your boyfriend good luck. But as soon as you enter their dressing room, you notice Nathan is not there. Everyone else is and you turn to Brendan Gallagher: "Uh, Gally, where is Nat?"
"Hi, Y/N. Sorry, haven't seen him today."
"He wasn't on the practice?"
"Nope. But I am sure he'll show up soon. Don't worry, you'll get to see your boyfriend play."
That is not really your concern, because you know Nathan would never miss a game. But skipping practices what unusual for him and enough to make you feel uneasy. First thing that crosses your mind is him cheating on you.
"Uh, Gally, do you think he could...uh...cheat on me?"
Brendan, who is talking to Alex Galchenyuk, turns around and looks at your surprised. Behind his back Alex does the same: "Are you serious? He wants to marry you, not to break up with you."
"And last time we checked, Nat would never cheat on you, Y/N," Alex continues.
"But what if-"
"Now listen to me. Nathan Beaulieu would never cheat on you. Never."
"Okay, I get it. Thanks, guys."
You ask few other players, including older ones, but no one seems to know anything.
Then, thirty minutes before the puck drops, finally someone gives you a clue. But that someone is not one of the players, it's Habs' coach, Michel Therrien: "Y/N, I spoke with Nathan earlier today. He asked me to bring you to the center ice during the first intermission. Until then... would you like to join me on a bench?"
"I would love to, but... Nathan is still not here."
"He is. Tonight he's in a separate room. Now, follow me, please."
As the first period is coming to an end, your nerves are turning into a even bigger wreck. Nathan barely said a word to you before the game started and still no one wants to tell you anything although you are sure they know something. As soon as the siren signalizes the end of the first third, Brendan and Alex lift you up and carry you to the center ice. When they put you down, you see their grins and realize they have known what's going on all along.
"I am going to kill you, boys," you whisper and smack their arms.
"Go ahead. Oh, left or right?" Alex asks and hands you two sticks, one left and one right.
"Left. But I can't play hockey. I am gonna embarrass myself."
"Just tonight. Please, Y/N."
Sighing, you grab a left stick and hear crowd clapping loudly. Out of all players, only Carey Price remained in the net and you can see him smiling from behind the mask.
"Come on, Y/N."
Luckily, Nathan tried to teach you once how to shoot a slapshot in a straight line from the faceoff circle. But you are facing the great Carey Price. You clench your teeth when you shoot and, at your surprise, score. The siren booms above your head, but the tone is somehow different. With one ear you hear the crowd yell: "WILL" and that's when you look up. On a screen above your head, there's the same word written. Curious, you look at Carey, who signalizes you to shoot with a huge knowing grin. You obey him and shoot again. When the puck hits the back of the net, another word pops on a screen, escorted with loud boom and crowd yelling: "YOU"
"Just two more, Y/N!" Carey shouts, his grin growing wider and wider every second.
After the third puck ends in the net, word "MARRY" shows on the screen and you feel your muscles weaken, somehow expecting where all this is leading.
"Only one more, Y/N! You can do this!" yells Carey from the net and taps his stick on the ice three times.
"ME?" shows up on the screen after you put the last puck behind Carey's back. You collide on your knees, hitting cold ice beneath. A pair of strong arms pulls you up and turns you around.
"Y/F/N, before I met you, I was a mess. And you, at the early age, showed me what love really means. Everything I've ever wanted in a girl, I found in you and now, I am asking you-" he gets on one knee in front of the sold-out Bell Centre, his team mates and opponents and looks up at you "-will you marry me?"
You look deep in his eyes and realize how much you really love him. Doesn't matter if his proposal is public or private, preparing everything to make it perfect, surely took a lot of his time and he did it out of pure and selfless love and devotion to you. And, if you rejected him, the entire Bell Centre would probably try to kill you.
"Yes, I will," you say quietly, fighting back tears. His face lights up as he slips ring on your finger. Then he gets up and looking around the crowd, punches in the air: "She said yes!"
Everyone, including Vancouver's players, staff and coach, erupt in loud clapping, when Nathan kisses you
"I love you."
"I love you too, Nathan Beaulieu."
To make the evening even better, Habs defeated Canucks in the last minutes of over time.