#bruins

Boston summers were known to be beautiful, and this might have been your favorite summer yet. Since moving to the historic city, you’d made hundreds of memories, friendships that would last lifetimes, and got together with your boyfriend.

Growing up, you were always aware of the boy who played hockey with your twin brother. You had to be.

Connor was a star player from a young age, so the other players that could match his level? They were memorable. 

Fraser was one of them. 

When Connor and Fraser began playing together, you started seeing him around a lot more often. 

But Connor had always made one thing very clear. He didn’t want his teammates and you mixing. 

“I know what they’re like,” he would say. “You should hear them in the locker rooms.” 

This was hard enough, because–being twins–your friends were Connor’s friends, and Connor’s friends were yours. It was almost impossible to not be around the hockey boys Connor played with. Especially when you spent a good chunk of your time traveling for his games. .

Now years later, Connor had been drafted to Chicago, and this was still a principle he lived by. 

But, what Connor didn’t know didn’t hurt him.

In your defense, you hadn’t planned on falling in love with Fraser Minten. In fact, you hadn’t planned on falling in love with anyone when you first moved to Boston. Because the move was supposed to be temporary. You were there for a year, maybe two, for a big time internship. You hadn’t expected it to lead to a job offer that cemented you as a permanent resident of Boston. 

And you certainly hadn’t expected Fraser to reach out to you once he’d heard you had moved to town. 

But he did. He’d messaged you on instagram, offering to show you around Boston as a mutual acquaintance since you didn't know anyone in the city.

And it was true. You knew absolutely no one, so you took him up on his offer.

Now, over a year later, you were completely in love with him. 

And—perhaps unfortunately?—Connor was visiting for a week. 

You were excited to see your twin, especially after only getting to see him briefly the last time he was in town to play the Bruins. But it also meant a week of no Fraser.

The week had been going well. You’d been having a blast taking him around Boston. He even trained a bit with Fraser, getting to see your boyfriend even though you didn’t. 

But then, disaster struck. 

The two of you had gone out to try a new restaurant. Your meal had tasted a little funny, but Connor seemed to be enjoying his, so you didn’t question it. 

Until that night, when you were bent over the toilet, heaving up your dinner. 

“What the fuck?” Connor asked, shoving the door open. You turned your head slightly from where you were collapsed in front of the toilet bowl, hair in your eyes. “Are you sick?” 

“No, Connor,” you said dryly despite the burning in your throat and the tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m peachy.” 

You were sweating despite shivering, your teeth nearly chattering together. 

“I think–” you gagged. “I think I have food poisoning.” 

Connor made a face, jumping back as your bent over the toilet once again. 

When you straightened, chest heaving, tears streaming down your cheeks, he took a tentative step forward. “Do you need anything?”

Yes. 

I need Fraser.

But could you really just tell your twin brother that you went against all his wishes and started dating one of the guys he’d always warned you about when you were teenagers? 

“Uh,” you sucked in a breath. You had never felt so ill in your life. This? This fucking sucked. 

You couldn’t even get your next words out before another round was hitting. 

“Hair tie,” you managed, gesturing over your shoulder to the bathroom counter. 

“On it,” Connor nodded, beginning to rummage through your drawers until finding a pink, fuzzy scrunchy. “Do you want me to do it or–”

“Yes.” You wanted to kill him. 

With rough fingers, he scraped your hair back into probably the messiest, loosest bun to ever exist at the nape of your neck. 

“There.” He said, pulling back when he was finished. 

By now, your shivers had turned to full body trembles, your sweat drenching every inch of you. Connor was treating you like a hazardous chemical, and all you wanted was your boyfriend who always knew just what to do. 

You rested your head on the rim of the toilet, letting the cold sensation seep into your skin. A choked sob escaped you. 

“Y/n?” Connor asked gently. At least he was trying to be a good brother. 

“I need–” you swallowed, your throat burning. “Call Fraser.” 

Silence. 

Your shoulders hunched, your muscles spasming. 

“Uh, are you dying or something?” Connor asked, his voice low. “Because I think you just told me to call Fraser Minten.” 

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. 

“Why the fuck would I–”

“Connor, fuck, just call him!” You were openly sobbing now, your body seizing with nausea. Your stomach twisted and then you were leaning over the toilet again. 

“Fuck, fine.” Connor huffed, stepping out while raising his phone to his ear.

You heard him mumble something and then he stepped back in, a funny look on his face.

“He says he’s on his way?”

Thank god.

Your eyes squeezed shut in relief.

“What is going on here?” Connor asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why did I call Fraser?” 

You shook your head as best you could. “Not now.” 

Because your body was tense and shaking, your head was pounding. You were collapsed on the bathroom floor, your hair sticking to your skin, and all you wanted was your boyfriend. You slumped into the wall, bringing up a shaking hand to scrub the tears from your face. The small movements caused your head to spin. 

Nearly fifteen minutes later, you heard the front door of your apartment click open. 

“Baby?” Fraser’s voice cut through the haze, your eyes opening slowly. 

Connor straightened, eyes bouncing between the two of you. 

“Baby?” He asked slowly. “What the fuck is happening?” 

That was then Fraser rounded the corner, appearing in the bathroom doorway. His eyes immediately went to you, ignoring Connor.

“Hey,” Fraser moved towards you, crouching in front of you and bringing a hand up to your forehead. “Hi, baby.” His hands were warm, strong, familiar. 

Everything. 

You groaned, leaning into his touch. 

Fraser’s brows were pinched in concern as he felt your temperature. 

“You’re burning up,” Fraser’s voice was soft as he tilted your head so that he could look into your eyes. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You tried to shrug. “An hour?” 

Your boyfriend pushed the hair off your face that Connor had missed, smoothing it behind your ear. 

“Why does Fraser know where you keep the spare key?” Connor’s voice cut in, sounding terrified. 

“Shut up, Connor,” both you and Fraser muttered at the same time. You sounded exhausted while Fraser just sounded irritated. 

Before you could answer, another wave of nausea hit and Fraser's hand was immediately on your back.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, his hand warm against you. “Let it all out.” 

When you pulled back once more, the tears were back in full force. Your throat burned, the tip of your nose feeling funny like you hadn’t gotten enough air. 

The next hour passed in a miserable blur. Fraser sat beside you, never once leaving your side. Connor bounced in and out, bringing water and crackers, but your stomach refused to keep down either. You were so tired you couldn't even keep your eyes open.

“I’m dying,” you muttered, your body completely drained. For the most part, you had stopped shaking. Now, your body just jerked every once in a while, as if your muscles were complaining. Fraser had shifted so that you could rest your head in his lap. Your body felt wrung out, every muscle aching as you slumped against Fraser.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Fraser asked softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek. 

You nodded, your cheek pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants. Fraser did some maneuvering so that he could stand and then lifted you into his arms. The movement caused your head to spin and you groaned. 

“You alright?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Moments later, Fraser was laying you on the mattress in your bedroom, climbing in next to you and pulling the blankets up to your chin. 

“Don’t leave,” you begged, looking up at him from where your head rested on the pillows. 

“I promise.” Fraser's voice felt like a drink of fresh water in a desert. He was everything you needed. 

The bedroom door pushed open and Connor peeked in. 

“Is he good to you?” Your twin asked you, jaw clenched. 

“The best,” you whispered, saying everything with your eyes that you couldn’t say outloud.

Connor seemed to understand, nodding once before backing out again. 

“Does that mean I passed the test?” Fraser asked, chucking softly. It was the first time all evening that you cracked a smile.

“Yeah, I’d say he approves.” 

“That’s a relief,” Fraser said. 

From somewhere in the apartment, Connor shouted, “I didn’t say that!”

You see him as you walk through the door, dark blue jeans and a black jumper, hair styled so you know he used his favorite cream, and already holding some alcoholic beverage in his hand. He’s in a conversation with a couple of other people, but as soon as he notices a figure-shaped-you in his peripheral vision, his eyes shift, and he starts smiling. All your friends start gushing over your entrance.

You walk up to them and his hand flies up to immediately place it on your head, pads of his fingers gently digging into your scalp so he can sway your head slightly, reminding you that you’re shorter than him in the most aggravating way possible. You glare up at him as you say hi to everyone.

The night continues. You don’t talk to him much. There are people there you haven’t talked to in a long time, so Fraser’s put on the back burner. You notice him, though, throughout the night. He flicked the back of your head as he walked by once. You saw him looking from across the room as you talked to someone on his couch. He had this distant look on his face. What was weirder was that he didn’t look away. You were forced to tear your eyes away first when it got too intense. 

He follows you into the kitchen. You know it’s him because you know the sound of his footsteps. 

“Why are you looking at me weird?” You ask, opening his fridge to pull out a water bottle. You were starting to feel a little drowsy, and you really didn’t want to sleep over at his place if you didn’t have to. One time, you did because you were too drunk after some party, and he brought you back because his place was closer. The next morning, you walked out into the kitchen and he was shirtless with sweatpants hung so low you could see the waistband of his boxers. It was the most mortifying experience — not because you were a prude — but because if you didn’t have time to mentally prepare yourself, your brain would go haywire and your cheeks would reveal how you actually felt about him. It was fine seeing him like that in controlled spaces, like with your friends, just not alone in his apartment. You made some excuse while he tried to coax you to eat breakfast, and bolted out the front door. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, leaning one elbow on the counter, his body relaxed, staring straight at you.

“You’ve been looking at me funny this whole night.”

“You’re imagining it.”

“No, I am not.”

You come up next to him, placing your water down on the counter by his closed fist. 

“I’m going to miss your annoying texts in the group chat,” he says.

“Don’t worry, they’ll start again in October.”

He’s talking about your insistence on sending massive strings of texts in the friend group chat whenever he does something during a game. You would write things like: 

are you guys watching this wth 

FRASER SHOOTOUT GOAL WHATTT

he’s so goated 

oh my god minty first line can you bums wake up this isn’t a drill

And he would stupidly look forward to reading them when he got back to the locker room after a game. He would reach for his phone before the coach started debriefing or before he went to the showers. Sometimes he would smile so hard at it his teammates would punch him in the arm and ask who the lucky lady was. He just took the hits. He wished you were his.

And he would always type something back along the lines of you know I can see all this right? 

And you would say, ofc dummy that’s the point we’re supposed to glaze you, as everyone else in the chat chimed in with similar sentiments. He loved having this support network that cheered him on, but he loved even more the fact that you kept this charade going. You told him once that when you started live-texting one game, he scored in the third period, so you kept doing it as a good-luck charm, even when that charm eventually wore off. 

It was something so silly, maybe so inconsequential to you, but his heart bloomed that this girl in his life loved watching him play so much.

He groans. “Can’t wait.”

“I know I’m annoying, but you love me.”

He rolls his eyes, a deep blush forming on the apples of his cheeks. 

“See — you can’t deny it!”

It’s all one big joke. You should have said “it” instead of “me”. You want to smack your forehead. Your stomach turns watching him in your feeble attempt to turn your massive crush on its head — to project your own feelings onto this poor boy who probably just puts up with your odd shenanigans because he’s known you so long. 

“No, I can’t,” your breath hitches at the way he agrees. Maybe he’s trying to be in on the “joke” too. Maybe you’re making him uncomfortable. Maybe you should shut up and never talk to him again. You still can’t help but notice his voice is softer. It doesn’t have that teasing tilt to it. His eyes shift over your shoulder, then back onto yours. 

He licks his lips nervously, hand clutching his glass, white-knuckled. He blames the way the alcohol courses through him on his boldness. “Just kinda wish the feeling was mutual.”

“What?” You blurt out, a little too loud, extremely confused. 

“Iwishyoulovedmeback.”

At first, you don’t register what he says at all. It just sounds like one long word, but then you repeat it back in your head; that one word splits, and your brain fills in the spaces that should have been there when he said it. 

“But I do, Fras. Of course I do. Thought you knew.”

“As more than friends?”

“Well— that—yes, but it doesn’t matter—“ 

His lips are on yours anyway, soft and warm. Shots of electricity cascade down your spine, pricking the surface of your skin. One hand cups your cheek. He tries to pull away when he realizes you’re frozen, but you’ve been waiting too long to let this moment slip away, so you lean forward, rolling up on your tippytoes, hands splaying on the back of his neck, to reach his lips again. He makes this little surprised noise in your mouth that is so endearing you grip him harder. He tastes like liquor, but you don’t mind. 

When you break apart his lips are a darker shade of pink than before. A loose curl falls down the middle of his forehead. His hand is still holding your cheek. There’s a beat where you don’t say anything, just stare at each other.

One of your friends suddenly appears and says, “finally!” 

You both jump apart. His hand is scratching the back of his head, your cheeks are flaming. 

“Uhm no—“

“What did you—“

“Took you long enough,” she says, pushing between you two to grab a bowl of snacks, then leaves, as if what happened was so predictable it didn’t merit further questioning. 

You turn back to him, mind all buzzing, mouth slightly agape. “You love me?” Your pointer finger weakly comes up to your chest in disbelief. 

“I mean—“ he looks behind his shoulder at your friend who’s leaving, “—seems like everyone else knew.”

You take a couple more hesitant steps back toward him, your forehead hitting his chest. “think we have to be better at this communicating thing.”

“yeah, maybe you do.”

“you too, fraser pierre minten!” You look up at him through your lashes, annoyed again.

‘Hidden In Plain Sight’ | @mary-f1op81

Fraser hard launches your relationship after being asked about you in an interview. fans finding old posts of your previously private instagram account and taking a trip down memory lane of your relationship.

You Still Came | @abbydianereads

Always | @/abbydianereads

after a tough loss, Fraser comes home upset, taking his anger out on you.

true blue | @remytherat1

in which you wake fraser up at 2 a.m. because you’re sick to your stomach, expecting him to be annoyed, and instead he becomes the gentlest, most protective comforting boyfriend on earth.

AND IM NOT THE KIND THAT LIKES TO TELL YOU | @abilouwrites

behind the b | @rinkmuse

being around for a behind the b episode

curls gets the girl | @/rinkmuse

how his hair looks good every time

warmth on the ice | @/rinkmuse

his daughter grows a love for hockey just like him

Fraser Minten Boyfriend Headcanons | @habsbabe

soft curls | @littlesecrets712

clear sight | @deepvend

as your relationship with fraser blooms, the realization of how good-looking he is in his glasses hits you stronger and stronger each time

Stick Season, Part 2 | @pretty-g1rl-avenue

You meet a cute, soft-spoken guy in a record store, and a shared love for music turns into an easy, unexpected connection…and the start of something more.

Drunk in Boston, Part 2 | @/pretty-g1rl-avenue

You go out with your friends to a bar in Boston, where your drunk confidence leads you to flirt with a cute, soft-spoken hockey player, something sober you would never do.

crossovers between schedules | @/rinkmuse

when fraser starts talking to and gets to meet up with his favourite driver fraser minten x f1 driver!reader

Puppy Love | @/pretty-g1rl-avenue

Fraser brings home a surprise after a game

Fraser Minten x Pregnant!reader | @fangirlmermaid

You’ve passed 40 weeks and are tired of being pregnant

Shirt Off His Back | @/pretty-g1rl-avenue

On Fan Appreciation night, a puck toss turns into something neither of you expected.

Quiet | @/pretty-g1rl-avenue

After a tough game, the only person Fraser wants to be around is you.

foggy makeout sesh | @babypuck

dad fraser | @/abilouwrites

Favorite Fan | @monchouchouu

reminiscing on the hours before fraser left for the week, you decide to send some impromptu pictures to the hockey player

Confession | @/monchouchouu

Boy Next Door | @belli5

Fraser taking care of drunk reader, promising tomorrow might change everything.

In Plain Sight | @/belli5

You’ve been best friends with Fraser forever, thanks to Connor. Everyone saw the sparks flying between you two, except you. One day Connor meddles and forces the truth out, and you both finally admit your feelings.

Boyfriend headcanons | @habsbabe

Boyfriend headcanons | @babyleostuff2

Sfw alphabet | @green-sunshine

Neighbor, Neighbor | @cosmihoe

moving to boston means figuring out the t system, over crowded bars, and moving furniture. you soon realize it also means midnight elevator rides with your cute mysterious neighbor.

THE GIRL FROM THE BOOKSHOP | @maudestyy

fraser goes to buy a book for his grandpa, a regular at your aunts bookshop, and meets you.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | @junovee

fraser minten has always known he loves you. but watching you carry his cousin’s four month old baby across the backyard in your yellow sundress, cooing at her like she’s the whole world — that’s the afternoon he knows he’s never going to stop.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Baby Loves Me, Yeah! | wcters

green flag things/habits they do in your relationship

packing it up | @pearlandemerald

Home for the Summer | @/pretty-g1rl-avenue

When Fraser comes home to Vancouver after the season ends, you don’t expect to see him, especially after everything that’s happened.

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | @/babyleostuff2

playoffs were supposed to end with celebration, not heartbreak. but after the worst loss of fraser’s career, the silence between you hurts almost as much as the game itself. emotions boil over, harsh words are said, and for the first time, loving him doesn’t feel easy – until fraser realizes that even at his lowest, you’re still the person he wants beside him.

OUT IN BOSTON | @prttyboyave

being a famous youtube vlogger, you recently moved to boston, and your fans figure out why.

PROUD GIRLFRIEND | @ilyasorokinn

Imagine | @lhughsey43-girly

Fraser leaves for practice after a sweet morning with you, gets teased by Swayman and the Bruins for being obviously in love. After practice he drops you at your hair appointment, and goes grocery shopping. While out, he remembers you mentioning the LEGO Succulents set, buys it, and spends the afternoon building it for you.

LINGER | @bambilenny

crosby!reader x fraser minten

switzerland’s sweetheart | @/babyleostuff2

fraser minten x bedard!reader

connected calls | @/rinkmuse

exhaustion takes over during a call