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broadstbroskis · 4 years

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how to woo a girl (or not) | matthew tkachuk

“Hey.” Matthew beams at you as soon as he opens the door.

“Hey.” It’s hard for you to return the same enthusiasm, knowing what you’re here to do, what you’ve had to spend all week building up the courage to do, and it must be written all over your face, because he’s tugging you close the second you throw your bag on his kitchen counter.

“Are you okay?” His hand comes up to push a lock of your hair back, but it’s this kind of softness, these tender touches that are the whole reason you’re here in the first place, so as hard as it is, you put your hand up and gently push him back, stepping away to create more distance. “YN?”

The confusion is clear on his face, but he’ll know soon enough, just as soon as you can steady yourself enough to get through this. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You-” He pales. “What?”

You thought you’d be able to get through this looking him in the eye. You’d practiced in the mirror, run through your talking points with your best friend, reviewed them in the uber on the way over. All of that pales to actually being in his apartment and it’s a struggle to hold his gaze, to keep meeting that perfect blue. “I thought-that I could be okay with this. That hooking up was enough. And it was at first, really! But it’s not now and it’s not fair to you or me to keep this going when I’m just really hoping for more.” You try to give him the smallest smile, unsure how successful it is. “I know you never wanted more than this, anything more than casual, and it’s cool. But…” You shrug, watching as he struggles to figure out what exactly to say to your confession. “I caught feelings. So I’m out.”

He still looks like he’s struggling to come to terms with this idea, that you’ve managed to catch feelings for him and you won’t be hooking up with him again, so you decide to make it easier and grab your bag from his counter to leave. “Wait!” He calls, looking actually mindfucked. His curls are wrecked; how many times had he managed to run his fingers through them without you noticing before now?

“What?” You turn, almost at the door.

“You can’t just-” Matthew tries to run his fingers through his curls again, the frustration clear in his face.

“Can’t what?” You sigh.

“Can’t just decide that that’s what I want too!”

“Matthew.” You laugh hollowly. “In the last week you were away, there were four different girls across your Snap stories.”

“Well-” He defends.

“I’m not mad about it.” You tell him honestly. And truly, you aren’t. It might have been the nail in the coffin, the final realization that there wouldn’t be anything between you and Matthew, and that you needed to stop doing this for your own sanity, but you weren’t mad at him. “You can see as many other girls as you want. I just can’t be one of them anymore.” You start for the door again.

“I don’t want you to be one of them!” He blurts, grabbing for your hand.

“Excuse me?” You yank your hand back.

“No, that’s-” He groans, rubbing his face. “This is coming out all wrong.” You wait patiently, watching as he tries to gather his thoughts. You’d had your chance; it seems only fair to give him his. “Okay.” He says finally, taking a deep breath, just like you had when you’d first entered his apartment. “I want you to be the only one.”

You give him a look. Seriously? Just because you’re calling it off? Is he that much of a sore loser? “Don’t be a dick.”

“What?” He cries. “How?”

“You don’t have to say all this just because I am.” You tell him. “Like, I’m really not mad about it. I just, I don’t think I can be with you anymore without being in a relationship and I’m not really sure you can be in a relationship.”

“I can be in a relationship!”

You raise your eyebrows at him. What’s this now? “Oh yeah?”

Matthew nods. “Let me take you out and prove it.”

“You want to…” You say slowly, making sure you’ve got what he said correct. “Take me on a date? To prove you can be in a relationship?”

He nods again, looking even more enthusiastic about the idea. “I can do dates. I can do the fuck out of dates. I’ll woo the shit out of you!”

“Woo? What is this, the 1600s?”

He must be serious because he barely even laughs at the chirp. “You’re in, though? You and me?”

“I’m not out.” You tell him, watching as the beam returns to his face. “We’ll see how those dates go before I go all in.” You tease.

“It’s going to be good.” He promises. “Just wait.”

You smile back. “Eagerly.”

-----

It’s a little more than a week after that that Matthew actually texts you with date plans, including making sure to tell you to dress up, which sends your eyebrows so high they’re practically in your hair.

But you oblige, on the day of your date pulling out a favorite red dress of yours that you’re sure will drive him crazy- strappy, tight at the top, and flared at your hips- and setting about curling your hair and doing your makeup, just about ready when Matthew texts you to let you know he’s almost at your door.

“Hey!” You smile, when you open it for him. “Come on in!”

Matthew is genuinely speechless for a moment, and you know the dress has done exactly as you intended. But eventually his motor functions return and he’s able to follow you inside. “These are for you.” He pulls the bouquet of flowers out from behind his back, passing them over.

Well that explains the itch in your nose. You smile at him, trying to hold back the sneeze. “I’m allergic to roses.” You say, apologetically, holding back a wince. That’s a huge bouquet he’d bought for you.

He winces.“Right, well, we’ll just…” He shuffles around to the trash can, pitching them in.

“Sorry.” This time you wince, unable to hold it back.

“Don’t apologize!” Matthew says quickly and you nod, unable to stand the awkwardness anymore, moving quickly over to the couch to grab your heels.

“Ok,” You reach for your purse. “I’m ready.”

“You look beautiful.” Matthew blurts, like he’s been trying to string together the right words since he walked in the door, to figure out what exactly to say. You blush, smiling as you duck your head and thank him. “Come on; we’ve got to get moving to make our reservation.”

“Getting real fancy on me tonight, huh?” You tease. This you can handle, far more used to the banter and teasing between you.

“I said I’d take you on a real date and I meant it.” Matthew says seriously, gently leading you out of the apartment.

You’re quiet, through most of the drive to the restaurant, curious what he means about real date and unsure what to say about it, until he pulls up to a valet, when you gasp abruptly. “Matthew.”

“What?”

“Rouge?” You gesture out, like he can’t see the building in front you, one of Calgary’s nicest restaurants. “This is too much!”

Matthew takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s not. It’ll be worth it.” You’re not sure it will be. He steps out of the car, handing off his keys and jogging around to open the door for you. Holy fuck, this is what he means by real date.

This is all the proof you’ve needed that this will never work between you. Matthew’s got two worlds and sure, you fit easily into one of them, but this one? This high end one where he’s got money to drop on what’s certainly going to be well over a $200 dinner, just for the two of you? You can’t imagine a place for you there.

“What are you thinking about getting?” It comes out as a whisper, far more quiet than you’ve ever voiced any thought ever, but it’s the atmosphere around you, for sure. No one else at any of the tables close to you seems like they’re even talking.

Matthew’s answer puts you a little at ease, until the waiter comes over, welcoming you both in the same soft-spoken tone that the other tables must be using, running through the specials and promising to return with the bottle of wine Matthew ordered.

Make that a $300 dinner.

“You okay?” Matthew asks finally, well into the meal, when you know that you haven’t been the best conversationalist that evening. But this is-this is so much.

“Yeah.” You lie, picking at your last bit of dinner. “Actually-” You start, ready to tell him such.

But you’re cut off by the arrival of the restaurant’s owner, interrupting for a quick picture with Matthew to post on their social media, if he wouldn’t mind. “Oh.” He hesitates, looking over at you quickly.

“I’ll take it.” You offer quickly, and a look quickly flashes over his face before he schools it back to a more neutral smile to get his picture.

You’re quiet on the car ride home as well, thinking about the weirdness, and still silent in the elevator, and Matthew finally calls you out on it when you open the door to your apartment. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You’re quick to reassure him. “Nothing’s going on.”

He frowns at you in disbelief. “You just don’t look very-”

“No no no.” You jump in. “I’m good. Really! The food was great! I may never eat again, honestly.” If there was one positive thing to say about this date, it was certainly that. The food was delicious, certainly filling. “It’s just-” You trail off hesitantly.

“Just what?” He asks.

“It wasn’t really us, you know?” You tell him, despite your hesitation to do so. But the whole thing was stiff and awkward, the complete opposite of everything you two were. “It was beautiful, it really was! Thank you. It was just-” You wince, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “A little much.”

Matthew’s nodding, though, and you really should have known better. Years of hockey have only made him take constructive criticism to heart better than anyone you know. “Good to know.”

“Good to-”

He winks, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be better next time.” He says, and then slips out your door before you can say another word.

-----

Dress warmly had been the only thing Matthew’s text said, so here you were, wrapped up in your long winter coat, a hat, a scarf, and gloves, waiting for him to pick you up.

“Hi!” He grins when he rolls up.

“Hi!” You say, amused, slipping into his warm car. “Where are we going?”

Another grin, more smirk like and entirely too familiar. “You’ll see.”

“Matthew!” You groan, but he just laughs, turning the radio up for you to sing along to as he drives, waiting anxiously for him to pull up to your final destination, and then, when he does, “Oh no!”

“What?” Matthew looks over at you with a grin.

“I can’t skate!” You can’t stop looking at the outdoor rink he’s pulled up to in a mild panic. God, there’s so many people on it. This is going to be a fucking disaster.

But Matthew just laughs. “Come on, really?” Slowly, you nod at him. “Wait, seriously?” Another nod. “Wait, like, you can’t or you just don’t?”

“I’ve never.” You tell him, waiting for that one to register and biting your lip to keep back the laughter at the look on his face when it does.

“Never?” You shake your head. “Not once? Like not even on a pond with your friends?”

“That is what that word means, yes.” You tell him dryly.

“Right.” He nods, shaking his head, like it’s never even occurred to him that you can’t skate. “Well then, we...” He trails off hesitantly, like he’s trying to think of another date on the fly.

In the silence that follows, you continue to look up at the rink, before looking back at him nervously. “You won’t let me fall?”

Matthew smiles back at you. “I won’t let you fall.”

“Alright.” You say, against your better judgment. You had, after all, told him the last date just wasn’t you; this is him at his core. The least you can do is give it a shot. “Take me skating, Tkackuk.”

For everything that happens after that, it’s almost worth it just for the grin that pops up on his face then, alone. Almost.

Almost because it’s just as much of a fucking disaster as you knew it was going to be.

Even though he’d told you to dress warmly, you’re still fucking freezing, shivering the moment you step out of the car (wondering how he’s managing to survive in just a sweatshirt) and trying to hide it, from the second Matthew crouches down to tie your skates and onward-which frankly, probably doesn’t help with your inability to skate.

Matthew doesn’t let go of your hand, gently easing you into skating, and he’s actually a decent teacher, grinning when you tell him so. He only makes two threats to let go of your hand and laughs immediately when you shriek at him not to.

Then, a couple kids recognize him, and start crowding around the two of you. “Uhh.” You look over at Matthew, who’s smiling at the kids clamoring to talk with him, politely. “Maybe you could just drop me over…” You point at the boards.

Matthew hesitates, looking between the kids and you, and you know he’s torn between not wanting to ignore you on your date but also not wanting to outright ignore fans, especially kids. “Alright, I’ll be right back.” He says to the kids, before skating you over to the wall, as requested. “Two minutes.” He promises.

“Your fans are waiting.” You say, only half teasing.

“Two minutes!” He calls again, skating back toward them.

It ends up being a little longer, but that’s a solid five to ten minutes you spend watching him interact with children who look up at him adoringly, so really, it’s a five to ten minutes well spent, if you do say so yourself. When he returns though, he frowns instantly. “What?” You ask, through chattering teeth. It’s a bit more chilly here by yourself, no longer moving and with no Matthew standing close to absorb body heat from.

“Your nose is blue.” He informs you, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you the second you start to burrow into him. “Alright, come on.”

“Okay.” You’re too cold to argue with him, shivering violently all through the untying of skates and the walk back to the car.

Matthew cranks the heat as soon as he turns the car on, pulling a spare sweatshirt from the backseat to drape over your lap. “I don’t have a blanket.” He says apologetically, trying to warm your hands in his by clasping them close.

“This is fine.” You tell him, trying to smile and failing miserably as you continue to shake.

“Well this did not go as planned.” He huffs.

“I still had fun!”

“I can hear your teeth.” Matthew frowns deeper.

“I did!” You insist. It was much better than the last date.

He shakes his head. “I promise not to give you hypothermia on our next date.”

You smile, finally starting to warm up. “Alright.”

-----

“Where’s Matt taking you?” Emily, your roommate and best friend, laughs as you pull your hair back into a half up-half down ‘do to get ready to leave.

“Barcade.”

“Ohh!” She grins. “Well this finally seems like a winner!”

You turn and smile at her, unable to hide the excitement. “I know! He’s trying so hard though, I feel bad.”

“For what?” Em giggles. “He should be trying.”

“He’s not a bad person, Em!”

“No, he’s not.” She agrees. “Just a bit of a fuckboy who needs to prove to me that he’s good enough for my best friend.”

“You're ridiculous.” You roll your eyes.

She blows you a kiss. “Have fun!”

When the two of you arrive at the bar, Matthew grabs one of the hightop tables to start the night with a few apps and beers, while you pull one of the board games from the nearby shelf to play while you eat.

“What’s this?” He frowns at the box.

“Codenames?” You drop the box for Codenames Duet, the two-person friendly version of the game, on the table. “You’ve never played?” He shakes his head. “It’s super easy. You’ll love it.” You run through the rules, but the look on his face doesn’t change, and you laugh a little at the confusion. “Alright, maybe we’ll just dive right in.”

“You can go first.” He tells you, watching as you set up the cards, ready to dive in.

“Alright,” You study the board. “Winter, three.”

It is clear within two turns that Matthew is terrible at this game and has little patience for it. You have to constantly remind him about the assassins, are laughing at his guesses and his clues, and spend the short amount of time the game lasts before he does guess an assassin square trying not to cry from laughing so much. “We lost.”

“We?” He demands. “There’s not even a winner in this stupid game?”

Your jaw drops in delight. “No, Matthew, it’s a collaborative effort.”

He’s still shaking his head, mumbling under his breath as he’s practically throwing the pieces back in the box and you have to bite down on one of your fingers to keep from laughing outright, but thankfully your food arrives, which serves as a distraction for a good bit, until Matthew tugs you over to skeeball once you finish eating and grab a fresh round of drinks.

“How are you doing this?” He huffs, annoyance clear, as you post up a third round in a row where you completely crush him.

You shrug, fighting back another snicker as it’s clear that it’s driving him crazy. “You wanna go play something else?”

He nods immediately, leading you around to the recently emptied darts corner. On your first shot, you throw a bullseye and he immediately yanks you away. “No.” You spend the entire walk over to bubble hockey laughing.

Bubble hockey is, unsurprisingly, Matthew’s thing and he ends the game before you even manage to score once. “Woo!” He cheers excitedly, fist pumping and almost spilling his beer as he does, and you can’t help it, jaw once again dropping in utter fascination and glee. He is the world’s worst loser and winner; this is honestly the greatest thing you’ve ever learned about him.

You move around to his side of the table, nudging him gently with your shoulder. “Are you having fun yet?” You tease.

“Yes!” He huffs, and then tries to backtrack as soon as you start laughing. “I mean, not that I wasn’t-well...it’s not...you-ugh I fucked this up again.”

You laugh, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. This truly might be one of the most fun dates you’ve had, period. “No, not at all.”

He looks unconvinced. “Shoulda known better than to involve competition.” He mutters under his breath, like you’re not going to hear him standing only inches away. “That’s not going to win you any points, Matthew.”

And that’s just...you bite your lip, knowing you weren’t supposed to hear that, but you’re certainly going to come back to that another day.

In fact, it just might be time to have another chat with him in general.

-----

It feels like deja vu walking up to Matthew’s apartment, ready to have another important conversation with him. He greets you with the same, beaming smile, but this time, when he pulls you in, you don’t push away from the hug he gives you.

Instead, you tuck yourself closer, sliding your hands up his back to come rest on his shoulders as you bury your face in his chest, enjoying the familiar comforts he just radiates.

“Uh oh.” He says, and maybe you haven’t done as good a job at schooling your face into neutral as you thought. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You say, and then immediately correct yourself. “All good things. I just want to talk a little.”

His eyes are wide and his smile starts to fade as he steps back from you. “Well that’s never a good thing.”

“Matty.” You reach for him, squeezing his forearm comfortingly, the closest thing you can reach. “All good things.” You repeat.

“Alright.” Matthew shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear it, still looking like he’s being sent to his death. “Let’s uhh-” But suddenly, his apartment door is opening and you find yourself following his gaze turning to see three people walking in the door.

“Hello!”

“You’re early!” Matthew frowns.

“We wanted to surprise you!” His mom pulls him in for a hug, smiling widely.

He returns it, though barely. “And you’re...here?” He looks over at his sister, confused.

“Winter break!” She cheers, shimmying her shoulders a little.

“Right.” He runs his fingers through his hair, like that thought has barely occurred to him, doesn’t even acknowledge his dad’s presence as he turns to look at you...to find you doing your best to hide in the small space near the refrigerator. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t really know what to do.” You admit sheepishly, as his family laughs.

Matthew gives you a look, then gestures you forward. “This is YN.” He stops, though, probably still thinking about I just want to talk a little, before hesitantly continuing. “My...girlfriend?”

You smile at them, a little awkward and a little hesitant-not at the words but more for their reactions-and grip Matthew’s hand tightly once you reach him. “Hi.”

The nerves are stupidly unfounded though, his mom pulling you in for a hug as tight as the one she’d pulled her own son in for only moments before.

“Are you seriously dating my brother?” Taryn asks, looking between you and Matthew.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matthew frowns at her.

“Nothing! Just that she could probably do a lot better!”

His dad busts out into laughter and even his mom tries hard to fight back a smile, but Matthew barely rises to his sister. If anything, he frowns even deeper, and you’re reminded that the talk you came over for is still looming over his head. “Nah.” You smile up at him, thankful that it doesn’t take too long for him to return it. “No better.”

“We’re bringing her to dinner, right?” Taryn’s smiling, even as she continues to tease, tone even lighter this time. “I’m dying to know what you’ve done to her to make her think such a thing.”

“Of course she’s coming to dinner.” Matthew’s mom says, like there wouldn’t even be a thought otherwise.

“She might not want to come to dinner with you fools.” Matthew throws out to them, like he’s finally getting back in his usual comfort zone. “You don’t know what I’ve told her about you.”

Taryn looks interested, like maybe Matthew has been shittalking her without a chance to give it back, but she shouldn’t be. He’s got nothing but nice things to say about her, it’s more than clear he adores her. He’s got nothing but nice things to say about his whole family; even when he’s trash talking his dad and brother, the fondness is clear. “I’d love to come to dinner.” You tell them, smiling again when Matthew grins at you.

At dinner, it takes you a good few minutes before you’re able to keep up with Tkachuk’s. “You’re quiet.” Keith remarks.

“No!” Matthew snickers, even as you elbow him.

“I’m an only child.” You admit. “Our family dinners aren’t quite as…”

“Vociferous?” Chantal adds dryly.

You nod, laughing. “It’s nice. I like it.”

But once you get the hang of it, you’re able to keep up easily. It’s like any time you’ve spent with Matthew, really, only on a larger scale, and by the end of dinner, you’ve got a huge smile on your face that only grows wider as you and Matthew part with his family for the night and they all bestow hugs upon you.

“Your family is really great!” You tell him, as the two of you return to his apartment and settle into his couch.

“Yeah.” He nods, like he knows, and from what he has told you about them before, he does. “They are.”

“Also,” You say, climbing over to straddle his lap. “You’re really great.”

The interest is clear on his face and he smirks up at you. “Oh yeah?”

You nod, looping your arms around the back of his neck and playing the tiny hairs there. “Mmhmm. So let’s talk about why you think a real date is a $300 dinner and you think you need to earn points?

Matthew frowns, the change in his features both abrupt and unsettling. “I thought that’s what you wanted. Dates and showing you I was good enough for a relationship?”

“I want a relationship with you.” You correct gently, gesturing between the two of you. “I want this! I want dinner with your parents and sister, to meet your brother. I want you to teach me skating because you love it!”

“You almost froze!” He exclaims.

“So I’ll wear another layer next time or we go when it’s not so cold. But it’s something you obviously love, so of course I want to learn more about it.” He’s nodding, like he’s finally getting it. “Matty, I want to tease you about being over-competitive and steal food off your plate that I swear I didn’t want and gang up against you with your sister like we did at dinner tonight.” You smile as he mutters something under his breath, sure that that comment is going to come back to haunt you. “I want those little things you get in a relationship. I don’t care about fancy dinners or places. I just want you!”

You get to watch the smile grow across his face as your words register, the dimples that you’ve always loved starting to form and his eyes brightening. “Oh.” He says, dumbly, like he can’t say anything else. “Well, that’s good.”

“That’s good?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “I say all that and you’ve got that’s good?”

Matthew grins. “Well, yeah, that means I can do this.” He presses forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that quickly turns just a little dirty, so by the time you pull away, you’re a little breathless.

“You-you could have been doing that the whole time.” Well this certainly explains a lot.

The look on his face then is honestly laughable and you have to duck your face into his shoulder until he starts poking and tickling you anywhere he can reach. “Stop hiding! We’ve got a lot of time to make up for!”

“Yeah,” You smile back at him. “Apparently we do.”

“That’s okay.” Matthew beams back at you, pulling you closer to stand up off the couch, laughing as you scramble to wrap your legs and arms around him tightly as he starts to walk back toward his bedroom. “We’ll have plenty of time to do it.”

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanction #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics

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