hey
I would like to request an Ilya x Sports journalist!reader on how they met and first interactions.
Thank you so much
We're Live
Ilya Rozanov × Sports Journalist! Reader
The one where: they meet (and Ilya flirts)
→ find the rest of the series (and get to know SJ!reader)
->wc:0.9k
You're fixing your hair one final time as your camera man, Brad, adjusts his focus. The staring eyes of Ilya Rozanov don't become apparent until Brad gives the rink a once over.
"Dude.." Brad says quietly as he nods towards Ilya, "look who's interested."
You give a quick glance over your shoulder and smile at Ilya purely out of professional obligation. "Oh great." You sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you and Brad share a look. The two of you have known each other since you started working at ESPN about a year ago, and you've been inseparable since. You've somehow managed to avoid Rozanov in your time as a journalist, purely by chance. Brad however, has seen him plenty in his time behind the camera.
"Don't fall for the charm, honey, he's a flirt." Brad says, you both laugh before taking a breath and going back to professionals. "Live in 5... 4... 3.. 2..."
"We are live from the rink after the Boston Raiders .vs. Minnesota Wilds game, the Raiders have just won 5-3, and- oh!" You look over your shoulder and see none other than Ilya Rozanov skating over. "We have number 81 heading our way! Team Captain and fresh off of a win, here's Ilya Rozanov! How are you feeling tonight?" As you lean the microphone towards him you think he's about to take it, but he doesn't. He just rests his hand over yours.
"Good, good." He grins, one of his team mates skating behind him and knocking his helmet. He hardly reacts, he's staring at you.
"Well, Mr. Rozanov, some may say that you won this game for your team. How would you respond to that?" You ask, the question had been prompted by the commentators, and you could practically sense the cockiness radiating from the man in front of you.
"Would you say?" He asks back, leaning towards you ever so slightly. You want to step back or roll your eyes or scoff, but the camera is on. The world is watching. So you just smile.
"3 of the 5 scored points is certainly impressive." You say politely, Rozanov squeezes your hand on the microphone.
"The pretty woman is impressed." He grins before speaking even closer to the microphone "Next time I will score 5 goals. Win whole game."
With that he decides to end your suffering, letting go of your hand and skating off. You're stunned for a short moment before putting back on your smile. "Well isn't he something?" You say. "With that I'll send it back to John at the studio!" As Brad turns off the camera you deflate, but just a little, still very aware that you're in public.
"What the hell just happened?" Brad asks. "Actually what the hell? He was into you! He was so into you, man, I'm serious!"
You shove his shoulder with a weak laugh. "He likes me the way he likes every other woman that breathes."
"No, that was weird. Like that was actually weird." Brad insists.
"The absolute last thing I need in my life is some asshole hockey player stirring everything up." You say, and Brad drops the subject. You manage to snag a couple more interviews before the players leave, taking notes to hopefully write something later, but it's an overall uneventful evening. Or... it should've been.
"You are still here." An unmistakable voice comes from behind you
You turn with a purposefully polite smile, "I am."
"Come. I bring you home." He waves you over.
"I'm sorry?" You scoff.
"You clearly do not have way home." He gestures to you, shivering because your outfit was plenty warm enough for the rink but is no match for the biting night-time wind.
You huff, crossing your arms in an attempt to stop your shaking. "Brad is bringing the van around from parking. I'm headed back to the office to finish a piece." You have no idea why you tell him this, Ilya Rozanov has absolutely no use for your evening plans, but you suppose the 'why' doesn't matter.
"It's past fucking 10 p.m. and you are still working? You are--- how you say it" He gestures his hands for moment before landing on his word of choice "loser."
You laugh humorlessly and nod "Thank you, Mr. Rozanov, for your input. I'm sure I'll see you at another game." You are trying with all your might to be kind. Professionalism is never-ending when your job relies on people wanting to talk to you. Sadly for you, one of the biggest names in hockey is also one of the biggest pains in the ass you've ever dealt with.
"I will see you on TV, yes?" He grins.
You're about to answer when a particularly cold wind sends a chill through you. Before you can react Ilya is sliding his sweater over your shoulders. A black zip up with the Boston logo on the back.
He doesn't say anything about it until you mutter a "thank you."
"Keep." He says. "You will be cold again before next game."
You want to argue but he's already walking off. You're confused and borderline mortified when Brad finally pulls around from the parking lot with the window down, already ranting.
"You wouldn't believe how hard it is to drive around this place! It's practically a maze! I swear- who's hoodie is that?" He asks, you sigh and silently turn to show him the logo across the back. Brad doesn't respond beyond a dramatic gasp. You don't respond beyond flipping him off and climbing into the passenger seat.
Ilya Rozanov was definitely going to stir things up for you.
A/N -> I hope this first chapter has everyone excited for this series! Please please send in requests if you have an idea you'd like to see! I'd also be happy to answer and questions you have about any characters or plot points. Hopefully the next fics are longer but I wanted to get this one posted ASAP. Love you guys!
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