Hockey Imagines

*Little Black Dress- Andre Burakovsky

"Guess we aren't going to dinner anymore." Andre says as he looks you up and down. You were getting ready to go have dinner with some of his teammates. You were told it was a fancy restaurant so you decided on a little black dress. It was skin tight and short, ending only a couple inches below your ass. Your hair was curled and your make up was done, not too much, but enough that it took you around 15 minutes to get it perfect. You wanted to look good, hoping to get a rise out of Andre's teammates. But only because you loved how hot Andre was when he got jealous.

"Oh no, we are not cancelling on them again!" He groaned and you thought back to the last three times you tried to hang out with his friends. He always made an excuse as to why you had to stay in, mostly because you always looked so good and he had other plans for the two of you.

"You have five minutes or I'm going to see your friends without you." He sighed, before coming up behind you in the mirror, you laugh at his color scheme. "All black? That's different."

"Well, I gotta match my love." He wraps his arms around your waist and peppers kisses down your neck. You lose your train of thought for a few seconds before snapping back to reality, realizing what he's doing.

"I'll be in the car." His face falls but he puts on his shoes, following you out of the apartment and out to his car.

-

"Wow, you look so good, Y/N." Michael said, hugging you, his hands a little low for Andre's liking. He cleared his throat before shooting Michael a look, his hand placed on your hip protectively. You all take a seat. You look across the table at everyone there. Michael, Tom and his girlfriend, Kuzy, Mojo, Carlson, and their wives, and Ovi and his fiance. Tom mutters something about how Nate is running a bit late.

Drinks come to the table and Nate arrives, the table talk is split, everyone talking across the table. The women talking about life and girl things, the men talking about hockey, you listen in on both. Michael begins talking to you, asking how your last year of undergrad is. You tell him it's fine and then the conversation changes.

"I'm glad you guys could make it. Y/N, I dont know how you got him out of the house in that dress." He says, you almost choke on your water before laughing along with him. "I mean I know I wouldn't be able to leave the house if you were my girl looking that good."

"Could we talk about something else? Preferably something other than you implying that you want to fuck my girlfriend." An awkward silence spreads across the table. This wasn't the first time Michael had hit on you, he's usually the reason behind jealous Andre. While it's a good thing for you, you could tell that Andre was getting sick of it and their friendship was suffering because of it.

"It's fine, Andre. Just a compliment, right Mike?" You shoot him a glare, telling him to stop getting Andre worked up. You didn't want them fighting at dinner or anything.

"Yeah, just uhm, didn't realize I overstepped. Sorry, Burks." The table was silent for another few seconds before Ovi began talking about what he would be doing during offseason. He began talking about how he and Nastya would be going to Russia to visit family and then they were going to the Bahamas. Then everyone else began talking about their plans. Andre was going to Sweden for two weeks, he wouldn't let you go with him though. You began getting sad, thinking about it, but you were pulled out of your thoughts as you felt Andre's hand on your thigh, moving closer and closer to the hem of the lace panties you were wearing under your dress.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers pushed them to the side, diving into you. He pumped his fingers in and out and you bit your lip as hard as you could to keep yourself from moaning in front of everyone at the table. You closed your eyes and laid your head on his shoulder, trying your best to make it look like just a gesture of love, and maybe a bit of sleepiness. Right as you were about to let go, he pulled his fingers out, excusing himself to go to the restroom. No one seemed to be onto you, everyone lost in conversation. Everyone ate and shared laughs and eventually the night had to come to an end. You began thinking about his timing and how it came just after he began talking about Sweden. He knew you were upset about him not wanting you to go.