Nicky scores a hat trick, and gets an orgasm. Or three.

“You can’t be picked if you’re married," Nicky says, like it's obvious. “I’m not married,” Alex replies. “You’re marrying me,” Nicky says, his jaw set. “You haven’t proposed."

Alex loves his kids, he really does, but he also might kill them. That is, if they don't put him in a goddamn early grave first. (Cop bribing, theft of public property, and how to photoshoot your dick properly in order to seduce a teammate: all part of a captain's responsibilities to his rookies.)

“So,” the first reporter asks, pushing forward in the scrum, “did you know about Alex Ovechkin?”

“Best baby need best jersey,” Alex says blithely, which doesn’t actually answer the question. It does, however, tell Nicklas whose jersey it is, and sure enough when Alex lifts it up to put it back in the bag Nicklas can see the 8 and the 'OVECHKIN' emblazoned on the back. or, nicklas finds himself responsible for a baby. alex approves.

“Think the storm did it,” Sasha tells the kids over lunch the next day. Andre got last place in their morning skate shootout contest, so he’s paying. “Did what?” Willy says through a mouthful of sushi. Sasha points at him with his chopsticks. “Your powers,” he says. “Snowzilla comes, suddenly everyone’s mutants? Something happened there, no other explanation.” Latts strokes his chin. “Didn’t the Flash get struck by lightning or something? It’s not totally crazy.”

It isn't, Alex reflects inanely, the fact that Nicky isn't wearing his cuffs. They aren't even cuffs but magic-infused braided and inscribed leather bracelets, one on each wrist—Nicky pushes them up his forearms during every game. No, it's Nicky's anguished face when he takes them off.

Five people (well, technically six) who already knew Sasha and Nicky were together and the one person they surprised.

Nicklas Backstrom knows that Alexander Ovechkin is his soulmate but they never talk about it.

There's no word in English rude enough for “holy shit, my long-term life partner turns into an angry crow once every ten years,” but there fucking should be.

What is supposed to be a special night for them takes a seemingly nightmarish turn. (AKA the one where Nicky grows tentacles.)

Nicky generally considers himself a fairly competent, attentive person, so the fact that it’s taken him years to figure out that Alex has been essentially dating him is...disappointing. And also exhilarating.

When your love for someone or something changes, you get love fever. When you get love fever, you usually get a love rash: a nasty, persistent itch in the shape of flowers or birds or your lover's hands. Alex has always noticed that Nicky doesn't get love blisters, just like he's noticed how Nicky fumes after losses, and prefers lasagna to ziti, and likes his girlfriends to cut his hair. He just assumed Nicky was one of those lucky people, the ones who don't get the rash.

“You,” Alex says, pointing at him. “Me,” he continues, pointing back at himself. “Married.” “Oh,” Nicky says. “Oh.” [It doesn't go any smoother after that.]

Alex twists the ring around his finger as he watches Nick pace. He consented, everyone did, but in the privacy of their room, he seems much more on edge now about it. “Nicky,” he finally whines, sick of watching. Despite all his pacing, Nicky’s face is blank and Alex has no idea what he’s thinking. Nicky spins to face him. “I don’t want this.”

Nicky wanted a family. He wanted a family very much, but not like this.

Having babies gives you dad power. Dad power helps put hockey teams on the road to Sir Stanley. Sid sired a herd of little Penguins before Pittsburgh won its Cup. Toews might as well be running a Blackhawks baby factory. Now it's Ovi's turn. If only someone had told him that impregnating your fuckbuddy might make things a little weird.

There's a tumblr post that's literally all about 'things your OTP could do that make people think they're married if they aren't' and instead of writing one, I wrote them all. OR, Dad and Papa are a perfect, healthy, happy couple. But, they're not a couple at all.

Nicky quickly typed 'Need to reschedule, the children need me tonight' before re-pocketing his phone and turning to an expectant André. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to go home and cook us dinner,” Nicky started, and André made an excited noise. “And you,” Nicky continued, “are going to bring Tom over to my house at 8 and we’ll all spend some time together.” A guide by the two dads of the Washington Capitals.

4 snippets that were not too explicit, 1 that was very explicit (Or: 4 kinks they technically might have had too at some point if Nicke hadn't been trans, and 1 that only works so good exactly because Nicke is trans)

It starts with Sasha's neighbour worrying about the stupid fish. When Sasha finds out what's behind that, it ends so, so much worse for him... Or: Putting "ovi" into "oviposition" ;) (~8k of Ovi getting tentacle dicked down + oviposition, the fic's basically in the tags, and what is advertised there is exactly the fic, you do the math)