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rosesvioletshardy · 3 years

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overtime win celebrations - mat barzal

okay this is very unedited because i lowkey rushed it and i know it’s bad. also this is very bad smut because i haven’t written it in a while and i tried to read others and my old ones to get some inspiration and try to make it at least accurate in a way idk

also a very happy birthday mat today

(isles win today or else i’ll fly to new york and 🔪) (jk ,,, unless)

this was requested by @gigissports who gave me the idea of this fic when i said i wanted to write a fic but didn’t know what to write about or who to write about so thank you to her and i hope you like it

(also idk what that title is it’s the first thing that came to my mind)

(ps y’all should also follow her as well she’s an amazing person)

masterlist

mat masterlist

warnings: mention of fights, SMUT (18+) (minors please don’t interact), fluff, little angst? (idk mat is a little upset so idk if that’d count as angst)

# of words: 1,941 (sorry it’s short i tried to make it somewhat longer but my brain decided to go into writer’s block so)

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It was all going well, up until it wasn’t. You knew that playoff hockey got even more intense than the regular season and meant that more injuries were prone to happen. Mat told you the night the Islanders got clinched that he wouldn’t try to get into many fights anymore or get anymore penalty minutes seeing that he’s their star and that the top player shouldn’t have that many penalty minutes. He managed to not get into any fights or get any penalties the first 4 games. You would’ve gone to the game but you decided to stay at yours and Mat’s apartment to watch the game due to being busy earlier in the day and Mat was completely fine with however you wanted to watch the game. The only thing he did request before he left was that you wore one of his jerseys that he wasn’t going to be wearing for good luck. As soon as you came home from work it was the first thing you did and you sent a picture to him to show him. You knew he wouldn’t answer right away but you saw that he read it.

The game was going smoothly up until the second period where the penguins were leading by 3. You knew that the team was frustrated by the way they looked as the camera panned over to the bench and that they were trying their hardest. Mat’s line was now playing and you felt as if they were going to score during that period. It wasn’t until moments after Anthony’s goal where a fight broke out and Mat got into the middle of it. You couldn’t tell what happened but you stood up on your feet and became really concerned. It wasn’t until you saw him walk towards the locker room with one of the medics before they showed the reply. The rest of the game you couldn’t focus on and only worried that something would happen even later into the game. Mat had said he was fine but you knew that he wasn’t from when they showed him.

The only good thing to come out of the game was the double overtime win and you knew it was going to be a while before Mat got home. You hadn’t really had anything for dinner because of it and could only eat crackers because your mind was only worried for Mat and Mat only. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep seeing how late it was. Mat on the other hand was exhausted as well and it was just from playing almost 5 rounds of hockey. A sigh escaped his mouth when he reached the front door and took out his keys only to find you sleeping on the couch wearing his white jersey. He smiled at the site before dropping his bag and taking his shoes off before walking over to you and crouching down in front of you. Mat took a moment to analyze the details of your face before he started to caress your face and wake you up. Your eyes began to flutter open as you saw him crouched down to your height

“Hey baby” he whispered as you sat up making room for him

“Hi maty, sorry you had to see me like this” you told as he sat down and pulled you into his chest

“It’s okay you deserve some rest.” he said trying to hide his eye

“Let me see, don’t hide it.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad”

“Why would I be mad?” you asked him confusion running across your face

“Because I promised to you that I wouldn't get into any fights or get any penalties during playoffs” he admitted

“I’m not mad, I was worried the entire time. It happens.” you affirmed him as you ran your fingers over the bruised eye lightly making sure that you didn’t hurt him. The two of you sat there in silence for a while taking in each other’s company before you both looked at each other and brought your lips together. You’ve been with Mat for over a year and a half and yet he still gave you butterflies every time you kissed. Straddling him, you continued to kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Everything in that moment just felt perfect. Mat pulled away and stood up, picked you up and took you to yours and his room. After laying you down on the bed, he began to slowly push up his jersey while pressing small kisses along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks, making you moan before pulling away to take the jersey off. His breath hitched when he saw the lingerie you had on underneath and smiled and you spoke up

“I was going to surprise you when you got home but i ended up falling asleep, so this isn’t exactly how I planned it” you told him sitting back up

“Well I’m still surprised don’t worry and you still look beautiful” he said before giving you another kiss and laying you back down after you took off his suit jacket, shirt and pants leaving him just in his underwear as you traced your fingers down his body

“I love you so much. Thank you for everything you do. From supporting me at home and away games to dealing with me and my antics”

Mat unclipped you bra as he pressed light kisses over your collarbones as his hands roamed all over your body and stopping at your thighs, Pushing your legs apart, his fingers hooking onto your underwear before sliding them off and inserting two of them inside you. His eyes never left yours, curling his fingers more and while his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to moan

“Maty, please” you let out

“In all time princess. It’s all about patience” he whispered in your ear before removing his fingers as soon as he felt you clenching.

Removing his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth and sucked off your juices and sank down to his knees and kissed the soft skin of your thighs, feeling scruff from his playoff beard he was finally allowed to grow out. He wasted no time when it came to eating you out as he sucked back on your clit. One of his favorite sounds was hearing your moans and whimpers, as a smirk plastered onto his face, gripping your thighs tighter. You became more and more frustrated as you tugged on his hair wanting more. Pulling him closer onto you, his hands grabbed your breasts making you gasp and moan his name more. He began to slowly lick your clit before starting to suck on it. You can feel him slowly pull away before going back and inserting his finger again

“Oh god. Oh fuck. Mat that feels so good. Please don’t stop”

“What do you need princess?”

“You. I need you.”

“Fuck, maty i’m so close please” you told him as you could feel him humming against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. The familiar feeling began to coil in your stomach as you tugged on his hair harder and him licking you as his name left your lips, almost to the point where the neighbors would probably hear.

When he pulled away, he pressed a kiss against your lips, making you taste yourself. Mat leaned over to grab a condom from the nightstand next to the bed as you began to palm him through his boxers before pulling it down. You helped him roll the condom on him as he then lined himself in between you and grabbing your legs to hook against him

“You ready?” he asked looking into your eyes, making sure you’re still comfortable

“Yes” you told him as you curled your fingers at the bottom of his hair as he pressed his lips against yours while pushing himself inside you, groaning into his mouth.

His hips rolled with every thrust he gave, his lips leaving yours and pressing kisses along your jaw as he whispered in your ear as the occasional moan left his lips when you marked up his back or tugged his hair more. His hands gripped around your waist as he

“I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too”

“Are you close?” he whispered pulling away from your neck “Mhm” you nodded as a whine left your left as he thrusted harder,

“It’s okay, let go” he whispered in your ear as the both of you let go of your highs. Mat came out of you and fell on the bed next to you. The two of you stayed quiet as you both breathed heavily trying to catch your breaths.

“Well that was-”

“Yeah” he finished as he took the condom off and threw it in the trashcan when got up and went to the bathroom

When Mat came back, he started to clean you up with the damp towel, making sure that you were alright and that he didn’t hurt you. He took his time making sure to stop as soon as you started to feel uncomfortable or started to wince. You kept trying to fight off the sleepiness that was taking over so you had a chance to talk to Mat about everything he wanted just so he can get his mind over it. Your eyes were starting to slowly close once again until you felt the bed dip and Mat’s arm pull you so your head was on his chest

“What’s going on through that mind of yours?” you asked him knowing that he was thinking about the game again

“Just the game, the fight, how much my eye hurts” he laughs off but you can tell he’s still somewhat upset causing you to get up and face him

“Mathew, you did your best, and you’ll keep doing your best. I know you know this but you go close to a goal each period and in overtime. Yes, it’s not going well, but you need to have some faith in you. There’s still some positives that happened, you assisted a couple of goals from Tito and Scott, plus the game winning goal. Those are still something-” you told him before he cut you off

“Yeah but they’re not a goal you know? Everyone, from commentators to interviewers have been on my ass about not scoring and it’s frustrating to listen to and when it happens it gets blocked” mat exclaimed, as he ran his hand through is hair trying not to show his frustration

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but that will happen and things will get better. Remember you were struggling towards the end of the regular season and then you got a goal straight out of the penalty box?”

“Yes but-”

“But nothing. You still have game 6 and I know that you guys will advance to the next round and you will get that goal that you want.” you finished as you now sit on his lap staring into his eyes and grabbing his hands

“Okay, mainly because I trust you and I love you.” he said as he gave you a small peck on the lips

“I love you”

“Now, do you still have enough energy for another round or are you tired?”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one who played 5 periods of hockey and got into a fight” you smirked as he flipped you onto your back

“Well then, you shouldn’t have said that missy” he whispered to you smirking as he went back down on you

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

I think it would be really interesting for leo and sirius to talk ab how they both didn’t go to college and how they both joined the nhl at 18 but had v different upbringings

Ooo, I like this one! I’m always down for some Cap and Knutty bonding. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for mentioned bad parenting

“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Leo said, breaking the nighttime silence after many long minutes of just their breathing. Sirius hummed in question. “Starting all this so young.”

Sirius made a noncommittal noise and Leo shifted, never taking his eyes off the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars properly in Gryffindor, but the roof of the rink didn’t have a bad view; the planes flying overhead brought pinpricks of brightness to the indigo blur.

“Was it hard for you?”

He heard Sirius’ coat move. “Was what hard?”

“Starting the NHL at eighteen.”

There was a long beat of silence. “Sometimes.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it,” Leo confessed, still barely above a murmur. Nobody else was around, but it didn’t feel right to talk in normal voices. The whole world was muted, save for the noise of the city below them. “There was just so much to do.”

Sirius laughed softly. “I hate to break it to you, rookie, but that doesn’t change.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Before, or now?”

Leo thought for a moment. “Both.”

“Before, I would go home and shoot pucks until I was too tired to stand up. Sometimes I would read.” It wasn’t a secret, but it still made Leo’s heart hurt to remember. Nobody as kind and hardworking as Sirius deserved that. “Now, I make myself some food, take a shower, and steal Re’s softest hoodie.”

Leo could hear his smile in the dark—it echoed his own. “Nothing better, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Finn’s fit me best,” he mused. “But Lo’s smell better.”

“Ah, he finally discovered deodorant?”

“Shut up,” Leo teased, elbowing his ribs. Sirius laughed a little louder; in the light of the streetlamps and the absence of his granite-hard focus, it was easy to remember that he was only 26. Leo had worshipped him as a kid, but now he just saw Sirius for what he was. His captain, who guided him through the playoffs even when his personal life was crumbling apart. His older brother, though Sirius certainly wouldn’t think of him that way. His friend.

“Really, though, it’s important to have those connections,” Sirius said when they both calmed down. “Being alone is good, but only if you know you have people to talk to when you need them.”

“Was it easier when you weren’t living with someone?”

“No.” The answer was immediate.

“Sometimes I want the apartment to myself.” Leo lowered his voice unconsciously, then sighed. “It’s not because I don’t want them there. I just need to be alone. Wash the dishes. Clean my room. Call my mom.”

“You should tell them.”

He turned his head slightly; Sirius was still scanning the sky. “Is that what you did?”

“It took a couple hiccups, but yeah. If one of us needs some alone time, the other will go to the grocery store or take a walk, maybe hang out with friends. You just have to make sure your boys know that it’s not personal.”

“You’re freakishly good at sage advice.”

Sirius snorted. “Merci, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie anymore.”

“Yeah, you are.” He raised his hands, as if outlining a marquee. “The Eternal Rookie, starring Leo Knut.”

Leo stuck his tongue out, feeling rather petulant about the whole thing. “Watch it, Cap, I’m gonna sic Dumo on you.”

“My own father?” Sirius gasped dramatically. “How could you?”

“Did you ever get homesick?”

The question was out of the blue—he didn’t blame Sirius for faltering. Honestly, Leo was kicking himself for asking in the first place, though he had been keeping it in for ages. Unspoken rule of the Lions #1: Don’t ask Cap about his childhood.

“I…” Sirius fell silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” Leo apologized, and he meant it. “That came out of nowhere.”

“I missed Regulus,” Sirius continued carefully without acknowledging him. “But no, I didn’t get homesick. I didn’t have time, or a real reason.”

Alone in a new city, finally out of a horrible living situation, but desperately missing the little brother he left behind… Leo couldn’t even begin to imagine going through it when the NHL by itself was already overwhelming to his teenage brain. He scooted an inch closer until their shoulders touched. “I get homesick every couple of months.”

“You have a kind family.”

“Have you even met them?”

“At the party.” Sirius’ smile was practically audible. “Your mother was very excited to see me.”

“Oh, god,” Leo groaned. “What happened?”

“She—“ He broke off with a laugh. “She was very nice, I promise, but I think I surprised her because she squeaked when I said ‘hello’.”

Leo shook his head. “Did you sneak up on her?”

“I’m six two, I can’t sneak up on anyone!”

“You walk like a fucking ghost, dude! It’s creepy!”

“Okay, rude.”

“I swear, you and Loops need to be belled like cats,” Leo huffed.

They lapsed back into comfortable quiet for a few more minutes as a train rattled past on one side and the metro busses rolled down Main Street on the other. It had taken Leo a long time to figure out Gryff’s layout, and even longer to get used to the sounds of the city.

“What does it feel like?”

Leo blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “What?”

“Being homesick.” Sirius shifted again and folded his hands over his stomach. “I didn’t notice much of a difference in practices when I started the NHL, and going back to my parents’ house wasn’t my exactly a highlight of my year.”

Curiosity overrode his tact and reasoning skills. “You never asked Logan?”

“Non. It was different, with him. He had already left to go to college before I knew him, and spent four years away from his family.”

“Right.” Leo forgot about that on occasion. That Finn and Logan might be five years older than him, but they had only been rookies a year or two prior. Not everyone went straight from their city select team to an official draft. “It’s hard to describe.”

Sirius made an understanding noise, but he couldn’t entirely mask his disappointment. Leo licked his lips and tried again.

“It’s like a piece of you isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And it keeps tugging on your chest, but you never know when it’s going to start and stop so you just… deal with it. You ignore it some days and you think about it other days.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The hard days are when you remember you can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t even call my mom sometimes, ‘cause I know it’ll make me sadder.”

“The way things were before?”

“Yeah, like—like all my classmates are in college, and I’m laying on a roof with one of the most famous hockey players in the history of forever.” That drew a light laugh from them both. “I’m gonna go back to my reunion in a couple years and have literally nothing in common with the people I used to be friends with.”

“Sometimes I wish I went to college,” Sirius said. “But I would have missed so much if I did. I don’t think I would have been happy there.”

“Finn and Logan get weird about college.” Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Leo had the feeling none of their conversation would leave the rooftop. “It was hard for them, with all their shit.”

“Re does, too.” He recognized the sad edge in Sirius’ voice; it was the same as his own. “For a different reason. It started good, and ended bad.”

“I’m glad I missed out on that,” Leo said, biting down the urge to scream at the universe for putting their significant others through so much hardship at an already-difficult time. None of them deserved the pain they went through. “Besides, it’s not like we need degrees to play hockey, and we’ll have plenty of money afterward.”

“I never thought about my life after hockey until my ankle.”

“My parents always pushed me to make sure I wanted to do the NHL instead of more school.”

“You’re lucky to have them.”

“I wish you did.”

The words hung suspended between them before Leo could swallow them back down, somehow dangerous and calming at the same time. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before; he just hadn’t said it out loud. The first time he had seen Sirius’ parents across the rink had given him a case of the heebie-jeebies so strong he had to shower twice. All the times after that just made him angry.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, but not upset. “You’re not the first person to say it. I’m glad you feel like you can be honest with me.”

Leo frowned. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“I try really hard to not be an asshole captain, so it actually does mean a lot.”

“I don’t think you could be an asshole if you tried.”

The barking laugh that split the night startled Leo so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin; Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth, though he was still snickering. “Sorry, sorry, I just—holy shit, I forgot you didn’t know me before. Mon dieu.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Leo protested. “Pots said you used to be grumpier, but that’s it.”

Sirius shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I was such a dick. There’s not a single picture of the whole team where I’m smiling for about two years and I was such a stickler for the rules.”

Leo gaped at him. “You followed rules?”

“To the fucking letter. It was awful.”

“What happened?”

Sirius shrugged. “I got friends. Idiot friends who did things like showing me the easiest way onto the roof. Pots used to drag me up here every Friday.”

“Really?”

“Ouais.” Mischief flitted over his face. “He skipped date night with Lily once on accident, and she tracked us up here like a bloodhound. It was terrifying.”

“What did you do?” Lily was one of the nicest people Leo knew, but he knew better than to get on her bad side.

“Lied to her face while James hid behind that strobe light.”

“Did it work?”

“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “She called me a liar and suggested getting a better best friend. That was after she told James he’s better have something nice planned for their next date if he ever wanted to get in her pants again.”

“And yet you didn’t listen to her.” Leo tsked. “Of all the people on the team, you chose the hot mess.”

“Trust me, rookie, James had his whole life figured out compared to me.”

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and but his lip. He had pushed his luck a lot already; who knew if one more question would be the tipping point? “Did you ever think about coming out? Even just to Pots.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate. “After every single game.”

“For seven years?”

“Up until the day those pictures were leaked. Even more after Re and I were together.”

“How old were you when you knew?”

“13. You?”

Leo exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. I think I had an idea of it as a kid, but didn’t really get it until I was in high school. My parents were even more worried about the NHL after I told them.”

“They worry a lot about you.”

“Only child, and I was going for a wildly unstable career path with no guarantee that I would ever see the ice.”

“They’re proud of you. More than you know.” Sirius’ watch beeped. “It’s ten o’clock. Are you supposed to be home?”

“I should probably make sure my boys haven’t burned down the apartment.” Neither of them made an attempt to move. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course.”

You’re like a brother to me, he wanted to say. I don’t know who else I can talk to like this. “Thank you.”

“Any time. We don’t have to do extra practice beforehand, either.”

Leo nudged him gently. “You’re the best captain ever.”

“You’re the best rookie, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Yeah, I am, he thought as they laid side-by-side in silence once more with the past behind them and the future ahead. And if I end up like you, it means I did something right.

#leo knut #sirius black #coops #oknutzy #finn ohara #logan tremblay #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #friendship #cap and rookie

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princessphilly · 3 years

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Plain Jane Chapter 2

Word Count: 2391

CW: a mention of P K*ne, allusions to issues with alcohol, references to being in the closet

Tag list: @newlibrary , @luvsherleafs @spine-buster , @m00nlightdelights @lovethepreds @myhockeyworld87 @Defiant-mouse, @callllumhood @yzas-stuff , @stars-canucks @laurenairay @cutiesara23, @besthockeyfics @hockeyallthetime @tazerass , @markymarkstrom @letsgobaby, @himbos-on-ice @hockeywocs @bloodthedevil @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @whatishockey @dreamer1430 @shelbsatans @no-pucks-given @stlbluesbrat21 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @heatherawoowoo

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I’m too damn stubborn for my own good. I admit it; I don’t like to lose or be wrong. I hate being wrong. Well, I hate losing money more than anything else. But I really hate losing or being wrong after that. - Journal 10/12

One year later

Jamila couldn’t help but look at Jonathan Toews as he sat at the table for this charity dinner. He really was more handsome in person than in the pictures. But the guy sitting next to him was just as good looking as him, in her opinion. He was rougher looking with long auburn hair and blue eyes and probably a good decade older than her, just the way that Jamila liked it. The only issue was… Duncs was nice but he wasn’t as exciting as Jonathan Toews. But Jamila told Shan and Mel that she was going to fuck Duncan Keith and she always got her man. Plus, it didn’t help that Jonathan always has something smart to say which made Jamila more dedicated to fucking Duncs.

But it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen. Jamila was frustrated; she knew she was gorgeous and she was used to getting her way. But Duncs had a preference for blondes and.. Jamila had no desire to dye her hair blonde anytime soon. Plus, she hated the fact that she was going to lose because then Jonathan would hold it over her.

Normally, Jon wouldn’t give a fuck that a girl wanted Duncs over him. He knew exactly where he stood with the vast majority of women and that he could have anyone he wanted. But he really, for some reason, wanted her. It had been over a year since they met and she was still hung up over Duncs. Granted, during that time, Jon was recovering from an injury and was at home in Winnipeg. Now, he was back and he wanted Jamila, even though she was supposed to be Cizisky’s girl. Jon had pulled the younger defenseman to the side and asked him about her and Cizisky straight up said that she was just going out with him as a friend to events. So Jon knew that Jamila was basically single and available.

Jamila was smiling in Duncs face but whenever he talked to her, she got angry and flustered. Jon knew she really wasn’t that interested in Duncs. He could tell by the way Jamila got closer to him when they argued that she really liked him. But the stubborn woman didn’t want to admit it.

As the captain, Jon was used to solving problems. But this was a problem that he couldn’t solve and he was becoming frustrated.

It wasn’t fair how intense those dark brown eyes were. And they had been focused on her while Jamila attempted to flirt with Duncs. Jamila had to admit she was failing and it was annoying her. He was being polite but she knew she was being brushed off.

She could hear Jonathan; “Duncs isn’t interested. Aren’t you tired of wasting your time?” All of that paired with a mocking look. She was done doing favors for Shan’s cousin. Next time he needed a plus one, he could find someone else.

“Tired of shooting wide?”

“Really, a hockey metaphor?” Jamila rolled her eyes while Jonathan chuckled. He really was tired of watching Jamila flirt with Duncs. She wasn’t his usual type but Jonathan wanted to be her type. Once Duncs made it clear that he wasn’t interested, Jonathan decided it was time to try his luck.

“Good, you’re learning about the game! But are you tired?”

“What do you mean?”

Jonathan was tall enough that while she wore 5-inch heels, Jamila still had to look up at him a bit. He licked his lips and once again, Jamila felt those unwanted shivers. Jonathan smirked before saying, “Stop pretending you’re interested in Duncs when we both know that you really want me.”

“You’re so conceited,” Jamila retorted. A small part of her said he was right but her pride hurt so fuck him.

Jonathan gave her a devilish grin. “Fuck me? We can make that happen.”

Jamila’s eyes grew wide when she realized she said that out loud. “Captain Serious? More like Captain Dickhead!” Jamila rolled her eyes as she gave him a once over.

Then Jon shocked her. “That was a bit too much, I’m sorry,” he said. The earnest look in his eyes told Jamila he was telling the truth. “But seriously, you’re wasting your time.”

Jamila sighed deeply. She knew he was right but her ego didn’t want to let her admit it. Jamila just grimaced before pushing away from Jonathan.

For the rest of the night, Jamila kept mostly to herself and Alex, nursing her wine. She was tempted to get something stronger, very tempted, but she kept herself to her one glass of wine. It helped that Alex was watching her like a hawk, as if he knew that Jamila was in a mood. As soon as he was able to, Alex made his goodbyes, escorting Jamila out to the valet.

“What happened, Mila?”

Jamila sighed as Alex’s car was brought up. “Nothing, buddy. Nothing.”

Alex wisely didn’t press it as he got his keys from the valet, opening the door for Jamila and closing it after she got in. Once he was in the car and driving away, he said, “You’ve been in a mood since you talked with Tazer. Did he say something that triggered you? I’ll tell him to back off if he’s triggering you, Mila.”

Jamila sighed. “He didn’t say anything that triggered me, per se, but you know I hate being wrong.”

“Yeah, because you’re very wrong about Duncs… I’ve been telling you that for months,” Alex cracked.

Rolling her eyes, Jamila replied, “Jonathan basically said the same thing. Then he hit on me, again.”

“I thought you enjoyed verbally sparring with him. It’s entertaining as fuck.”

“Fuck you too, Alex!”

Alex snorted as he said, “I would if I liked pussy.”

“Talking about that, have you thought of coming out,” Jamila asked.

Alex looked at the road as he thought about his words. Then he said, “I could but I feel the same ones who talk about ‘You Can Play’ and all of that aren’t as accepting as they pretend to be. I mean, Tazer would be supportive, probably Duncs, maybe Kaner, Brinks, Murph, but the rest of the guys… I don’t want to risk it right now.”

Jamila reached over, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. That was a lot to have to deal with. “People fucking suck, man.”

“I know. Thanks for being my plus-one, Mila. I will always support you, even when people are asking me to call you names when you finally get with the captain.”

Jamila laughed, tears forming in her eyes at the idea of dating Jonathan. “That was very funny, Alex, you should become a comedian.”

Smirking, Alex turned into the parking lot of the building that they lived in. They had separate units, Jamila’s bigger and more expensive, but it was still home. “Jamila, your eyes still follow Tazer everywhere he goes when you two are at the same place. It’s a matter of time, well, it’s a matter of how stubborn you are about it.”

As Jamila walked into her condo, she thought about Alex and his words. She felt a bit bad for him; locker room culture was real and it sucked that Alex couldn’t fully be himself yet. At the same time, Jamila wasn’t fully open about her own sexuality. If she wanted attention, she could easily come out as pansexual but Jamila didn’t want her life to become a circus. Add on the fact that she enjoyed bdsm and was a submissive…. It would be a hot mess, she thought. However, Jamila knew that she didn’t have to worry about the potential reactions of a bunch of other people if she did decide to come out.

One thing Jamila did have to worry about was her thesis. It was finished, turned in, it was just a matter of finding out when she would have to defend it. Since she was graduating with her PhD this December, Jamila knew it would be before then. Not knowing the exact date was just irritating to her. Maybe once she had it, her dad would respect her more.

Jamila sighed as she looked out at the Chicago skyline. It didn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t really care. The only ones who would were Nina, Marisa, Ms. Tracey and Mr. Vernon, Siobhan, Lauren, maybe Karesha and Desiree. Sighing again, Jamila decided it was time to go to sleep for the night.

Jon looked at his computer screen as he looked at his budget for the month. Coming back this season has had it’s ups and down so far. The travel and other rhythms of the season were familiar but at the same time, Jon had enjoyed being at home. For over a decade, Jon had lived under the grind of the NHL season plus the playoffs. There was something nice about being a home, not a hotel room every couple of weeks. The hotels were all the same, they stayed at the same places in the same cities every year. But staying in his own bed night after night had it’s own appeal.

At the same time, Jon wanted a 4th cup. It still irritated him that the team had decided to rebuild without even asking if the boys wanted to rebuild. Last season, Jon appreciated that the boys didn’t give up and tank even though the front office would have preferred that they did. Odds were stacked against them this season but Jon believed that they could make it. Once the playoffs started, it was anyone’s chance to get the Cup.

Jon sighed as he opened the Netflix app. He was starting to really feel his age this year. He was only 33 but he could feel every hit now. Plus, coming home to this new place with no one waiting for him was getting very old. “Maybe that’s why you like that girl so much,” Jon muttered to himself. He felt dumb; every time he talked to Jamila, he felt like he put his foot in his mouth. But then, it seemed like she was just looking for an excuse to tell him no.

As he mindlessly scrolled through shows, Jon felt super frustrated and ready to give up. He didn’t want to continue asking her out if she kept saying no. Jon blanched as the idea that maybe he was making Jamila uncomfortable came in his mind. As he clicked on watching Brooklyn 911, Jon decided that he was going to leave Jamila alone.

Jamila felt weird. It was two weeks since the last time she saw Jon and he was keeping his distance from her. All night, all he had done was say hi and wave when she greeted him. Jamila felt strangely bereft. Unconsciously, Jamila’s eyes drifted towards Jon more often than not during the charity auction. His black suit fit him like a glove, the crisp white shirt setting off his remaining tan. Of course, Jon didn’t wear a tie and it made him look absolutely delicious. Jamila inwardly scowled as she looked down at her water.

Jamila was attempting to be good by sticking to water instead of any of the myriad alcoholic options tonight. The last time she had wine, she had to resist the urge to down the whole bottle. Jamila sighed; she thought she could try to have a bit of alcohol but now, she was sure that was impossible. Her sobriety was worth more than trying to fit in.

The auction went pretty quickly, all things considered. Jamila made a couple small bids, there wasn’t really anything that caught her eye. Then the auctioneer said, “For our last, and surprise, auction item tonight, a date with the captain, Jonathan Toews. The winner gets to have one night with Captain Toews, at a place of your choice. Mr. Toews is a gentleman so it will be on him. Bidding starts at five hundred.”

One woman yelled, “One thousand!”

There were a flurry of bids and Jamila knew she had a screwface as she listened. One of the bidders was that bitch Frances and it looked like she was going to have the winning bid. The bids went up to six thousand before it started to slow. The auctioneer called out, “sixty-five hundred, do I hear sixty-six hundred?”

He waited for a couple of moments for additional bids. Jamila looked at her hands as the auctioneer said, “Sixty-five hundred, sixty-five hundred, going once-”

“Seventy-five hundred,” Jamila called out, raising her placard.

There was a hush as people turned towards her. Jamila smirked as Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

“Seventy-five hundred, do I hear seventy-six hundred?”

Jamila waited as she sipped her water. Frances called out, “Eighty-five hundred,” frustration laced in her voice. Jamila smirked; this was time for payback.

The eyes turned towards her and Jamila looked down at her phone. There was a message from Alex: have u lost ur mind?????

“Ten-thousand,” Jamila called out.

Jon let out a whoo, pursing his lips. This night had turned out in a way he hadn’t expected. The auctioneer called out, “Ten-thousand, ten-thousand, going once, going twice, sold, to number 53.”

Jamila rifled through her purse, looking for her wallet. She hoped she could just put it on her black card instead of needing a check. The money wasn’t a problem; the way of paying could be. One of the team’s interns came to Jamila. “Miss, come this way to pay.”

Following the intern, Jamila gave Frances a wide smile when she passed her. Luckily, Jamila was able to use her card to pay for her bid.

“This wasn’t expected,” a deep voice said to her side.

Jamila smiled. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“I’m a tool for revenge? I feel like shit,” Jonathan joked.

Jamila shrugged. “I’ll let you know if I ever want that date.”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Jamila walked away. She still felt some satisfaction winning the bid over that bitch, but something told her she made a crucial decision in some way.

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seventhrounder · 3 years

Text

I went thru my folder with old hockey magazines I had saved from around 2011 to 2015 and came across this one and thought it could be a fun to make a post about now in hindsight.

This is Jääkiekko magazine from May 2012, they always have a section of "99 questions with ..." and in this issue they interviewed Teräväinen.

I’ve translated the questions I found interesting under the cut! It ended up being about half of the interview. (*) are my additions.

On the cover "seuraava superjokeri" means the next super joker, he played for Helsingin Jokerit so it's a word play from that. Under, on the blue print it says: "The 17-year-old forward will become a first round draft pick in the summer. The natural goal scorer can dominate in SM-Liiga as soon as next season."

In the 2nd photo the headline and lead paragraph goes:

"A post with dents* - A year ago Teuvo Teräväinen was known only within a small number of hockey insiders. Few passers-by recognize him now either but after a flashy rookie season the Jokerit sensation is on the radar of every NHL team and is a strong contender to become a first round draft pick. Next season with Jokerit the talented second line center will be one of the main talking points in the SM-Liiga."

(*references the net Teräväinen had in his backyard and into which he practiced his shooting)

3. You've been described as a magician, top scorer, wunderkind and a prodigy. What do you think of these descriptions?

TT: Heh, those are some descriptions yeah. What can I really say? Don't really wanna comment on them much.

4. How nervous are you about the Draft?

TT: I try not to be nervous as best as I can. In a way I don't have anything to be nervous about since I don't care which team picks me or at what number I go.

6. Which is stressing you more, English interviews or physical tests?

TT: Maybe both. Bench press (laughs) and English interviews can be tough.

12. How far along have you planned your career with, for example, your parents or your agent?

TT: Haven't really planned things with others but I've thought about them myself. I try to go step by step and not jump too far ahead.

14. How does it feel to be so young with all the star players in Jokerit?

TT: How to say it? I haven't felt like I was young but a part of the team instead. The team's been very good with me and they haven't been looking down at me like: "oh he's young". It's been fun to play in an experienced team.

15. Is there a generational gap between players?

TT: You can see the age difference, older players look older but we're all childish, at least with our topics.

17. What does a 17-year-old do in the sauna nights of the team?

TT: I actually haven't been in any yet. I've always been at national team's camps or something.

19. Did you get the number you wanted?

TT: I did, yeah. I could've taken #18 but Semir (Ben-Amor) has it. But i'm happy with #86, it's good.

23. What are your strengths as a player?

TT: Offensive play and with that playing with the puck, passing, IQ, power play and skill, just the usual skill - skill with hands.

24. And weaknesses?

TT: They are to do with defensive play, strength and physicality. Battles and such but I think I took a step forward last season. That's a good thing.

25. Have you ever been "pressed into a mold" or has your playing style gotten to develop naturally?

TT: As a kid the play was mostly offensive/attacking, I didn't have to think about playing defence. Up until 15 years old, I got to attack pretty freely. Playing defence became more important when I started to play in A-juniors a couple seasons ago.

26. On a scale from 1 to 10 how determined are you?

TT: Maybe 8, feels like an 8.

32. What kind of role are you planning to take with Jokerit next season?

TT: I think a pretty big one. I try to be a top player and not just take others' example but give others example myself too. So that someone in the team can take something out of the way I do things on the ice and off the ice.

35. If you could pick anyone, who would be your car driver?

TT: Nico Manelius for sure. He's been my driver this season. I've had others too, like Riku Hahl but he's not nearly at the same level. Nico’s clearly the best.

36. What are the most important qualifications to be a good driver?

TT: The car is obviously important. Hahl's car is totally awful, he takes a lot of heat for it from the guys too. I wouldn't dare driving with him. Manelius is a steady performer, never lets you down.

38. What sports did you play as a 10-year-old?

TT: Hockey and floorball, probably football (soccer) during the summers at the time too.

42. When did you decide to focus only on hockey?

TT: So when I stopped playing other sports? Three years ago, before that floorball was kind of a side thing, I played a couple of games in the regular season and playoffs.

45. Do you follow floorball or other sports? Go to games?

TT: I don't go to games but I like to watch floorball on TV, it's an interesting sport. Sometimes I watch football too but I don't follow it much. Feels like they never score there.

47. Have you ever played with a wooden stick?

TT: As a kid I did play with a wooden stick.

49. You won the hockey players' golf tournament last summer even though there were more experienced players too. Are you good with all stick games?

TT: Well, I've been pretty good in all of them. I've played golf for a long time and still play it.

50. How is your swing?

TT: Pretty bold, kind of a hockey swing. I don't really care where the ball goes - as long as it goes far.

52. What do you think of off-ice training?

TT: Let's just say it's more stupid than being on the ice but you still gotta do it to be better on the ice.

56. Which word describes your professional relationship (with his coach, Tomek Valtonen), tranquil or colorful?

TT: Colorful of course. At times we're joking around, other times it's more serious but the relationship is really good.

57. Coaching you has been described in many words: good, bad, worse. What are they?

TT: Heh, well... I won't tell them here. He (Tomek) keeps the discipline during practices but sometimes when things haven't gone to a plan I've had to jump on an exercise bike in the middle of a practice.

58. What have been the reasons?

TT: I'll quote Tomek: "when I haven't been present".

59. Have you ever tried to turn the resistance of the bike to zero?

TT: (Laughs) Of course I have and sometimes I've even succeeded.

60. Describe your diet in three words?

TT: Greasy, healthy and good!

64. Your first name is not common for people your age. How did your parents come up with it?

TT: I actually don't even know. Maybe they didn't want a usual Ville*....

(*very common name for men of all ages in Finland)

66. Which of these is the most important: skill, unexpectedness or courage?

TT: Skill!

68. Your longest video game stint?

TT: Six hours, at least. I've played a lot of War of Duty lately.

72. The dumbest thing that has made you upset in hockey?

TT: Probably if I didn't get an assist on a goal even though I should have. Or even worse is if I score and they mark it down for someone else.

79. Have you had any concussions?

TT: I haven't had any, I've managed to always dodge them.*

(*ouch, tho it's good the recent one is his only as far as i remember)

84. In 2011 Team Finland finished in the 5th place at the U-18 tournament. Why only as 5th?

TT: Because we lost to Team Russia in the quarter final, just as well we could have won that game too.

89. You didn't get to be on the ice to accept the SM-Liiga bronze medal (because of the U-18's). When and where did you get it?

TT: I actually still haven't received it, I don't know where it is.

93. What is the population of Helsinki?

TT: There's like 5 million people in Finland so maybe around 500k in Helsinki? (to be exact 596k) Did i really get it right...?

94. Who's the mayor of Helsinki?

TT: I don't know, I barely know the president.

95. Do you think the municipalities in the capital city area should merge?

TT: Luckily I don't have to decide but they probably shouldn't.

96. What do you check first in the news paper?

TT: The sports section.

97. Your favorite tv show?

TT: Putous* was pretty good, I liked a lot of the characters. The grandma was pretty good.

(*Finnish live improvisation comedy/sketch show (there are still new seasons, the latest just finished). Every actor comes up with a humor character with a catchy phrase and one of them wins. "The grandma" is Marja Tyrni and I just got such flashbacks from typing this sentence.)

98. Last book you read?

TT: I don't read many books. The last book was a study book, a Finnish book. I wrote an essay on Tiki (Esa) Tikkanen's biography. An eventful book, great career and a lot of chirps.

99. Who should we ask the 99 questions next?

TT: Riku Hahl could have good stories, he's also seen a lot of the world.

#teuvo teräväinen #teuvo teravainen #carolina hurricanes #canes #hockey #nhl #mp #i knew i had this mag but i thought it was from 2014 and post draft #i really didn't rmbr i've been following turbo for this many years???#good on 16yo me for spending 8 euros on this tho that was excellent thinking

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midnightsnyx · 4 years

Text

Mathew Barzal - A Year In The Making

pairing: mat barzal/reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fluff, angst (me writing sad stuff?? shocker), and there may be a couple swear words? also, this is not edited so i apologize in advance lol

a/n: so this isn’t the soulmate mat fic i am supposed to be writing lol but its still mat! i’ve been working on it f-o-r-e-v-e-r for @hannahmb so hannah, i hope you like it!

my masterlist

Mat Barzal

Summary: Y/N looks back on an entire year with Mat.

January

When you say that meeting Mathew Barzal swept you off your feet, you mean he literally swept you off your feet. It was cold and icy when you were walking to your favorite coffee shop. You weren’t watching where you were walking so when you ran in to him, his foot accidentally (and you question to the day whether it was truly accidental) tripped you up, he managed to catch you before you fell and when you looked at him and saw warm hazel eyes and brown hair sticking out from under his gray hat, you knew you were a goner.

. . .

You knew the reputation hockey players had. They slept around, didn’t give girls a second look after they got what they wanted and you were dead set on never giving Mathew Barzal a second thought but when you ran into him at the grocery store and he asked you to go for coffee, you agreed.

Looking back, it was probably the dumbest and smartest decision of your life.

Coffee led to lunches which led to a movie night at his place which led you to your first hockey game. You knew absolutely nothing about hockey but what you did know, was that Mat loved to celebrate after a win. Whether it was heading to the bar with a couple of his friends or spending the night home watching a movie, he was always in the best mood after.

After your first game, he decided that the best way to celebrate was to go for a walk and get hot chocolate with you. Despite only knowing each other for a little under a month, it felt like the two of you had been the best of friends forever. It was something that attracted you to Mat. How easily he was able to get you to open up to him and vice versa - how much he trusted you with his thoughts and feelings.

It’s definitely how you found yourself standing under a lamppost, snow falling around you like some cheesy romance novel and Mat kissing you softly.

And thinking back, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

February

Things between you and Mat were… interesting to say the least. You weren’t a couple but you know that both of you weren’t seeing other people either. Labels were messy anyways. They caused more tension between the two of you than good. Your friends, however, had their opinions.

“I just think it’s a little weird that he hasn’t asked you to make things official yet.” Your friend said. “I mean, you don’t know what he does on the road or during the nights you don’t spend together.”

Her words certainly hit a sore spot but you tried to brush it off. “It’s casual,” you said. “We don’t want to jump into anything.”

“If you say so.” She hummed, going back to eating her pasta.

Her words were in the back of your mind though, no Mater how hard you tried to push them out. You and Mat had been open about not seeing other people, it was a lengthy discussion that made you feel better about not putting a label on anything. But, there’s always the possibility that he would change his mind. You didn’t know what he did on the road. Maybe your friend was right, and even though you and Mat had talked about it, perhaps it was just his way of making sure you stuck around while he was home.

Maybe you were just the pathetic girl that waited at home for him while he did whatever he wanted while on the road.

March

You’d swept your uneasy feelings about Mat under the rug until a Snapchat video surfaced of him on the internet. It was him with the other guys sitting at a table in a bar with some girls sitting with them.

They were sitting with Mat and not on him is what you kept telling yourself. He didn’t look like he was interested in them but you couldn’t get rid of the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that he would take one of them home with him.

You knew that letting your friend’s words about him would ruin things but you couldn’t help it. So you ignored him when he called you the next morning. He knew that you had early classes and wouldn’t call you after games when the time zones would be too different.

You ignored his call and then the texts he sent. He would be home the next day so you decided he could wait until then because you still weren’t sure what exactly to say to him. What would you tell him? That you didn’t believe him when he said that he only wanted to see you? That you didn’t trust him, or that you let your friends words get to you?

You still didn’t know what to say when he showed up at your apartment. He looked worried and mad and you weren’t sure which was worse.

“What’s wrong?” was the first thing he asked. There was no hello, how are you?

“Nothing.” You lied but he shook his head.

“I know you better than that.” He said. “Something’s wrong.”

You wanted to lie to him again, tell him it was nothing, and to forget about it but you needed to know.

“Those girls in the video.” You said, and he looked confused for a moment before his expression turned into understanding. “I know we aren’t a couple, technically,” you said quietly and watched as he slowly walked towards you. “But it bothered me.”

You waited for his reaction, watched his face warily. What you weren’t expecting was for him to take both your hands in his and squeeze them gently.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked softly and even though you weren’t ready for his honesty, you nodded.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you that entire night.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Tito kept asking me why I wasn’t making a move on one of them.” His head tilted a little as he studied you. “But all I could think about that night was how much I wanted you to be there with me.”

You couldn’t hide the smile that crossed your face and you wrapped your arms around his waist and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“I kinda wished I was there too.” You whispered and your smile widened when he picked you up and spun you around. He was laughing when he put you down.

“Let’s go out tomorrow night. A couple of the guys and their girlfriends or wives are going to Joe’s.” He gave you a hesitant look but continued. “I want to introduce you to them.”

Your brows furrowed. “I’ve met your teammates.”

“I want-” he cleared his throat. “I want to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

Your smile could have lit up the room.

April

You quickly learned that being exclusive wasn’t all that it was cut out to be. There was a certain pressure that came with dating a professional athlete and as time went on, you felt yourself begin to crack under that pressure. You weren’t sure if it was the media, intense fans or the fact that it was difficult to spend as much time together during the Playoffs but you started to question things with Mat.

Your mother always told you that you were an over thinker and always managed to think of the worst possible scenarios and though you would never admit it to her, she was damn right.

Your overthinking is what typically caused an fight between you and Mat. You were never one to pick fights but it just felt like every single thing that happened made you upset. Whether it was you feeling that he played video games too much when the two of you hung out or that he thought you made a big deal out of small things, the two of you were arguing all the time.

It left you spending many nights questioning whether being with him was even worth it when all it seemed to do was cause stress. You wondered if he ever thought the same things.

. . .

The loud cheering in the Barclays Centre did no good to your mood on a Monday afternoon game. You weren’t even sure why you went to the stupid game in the first place after a terrible argument between you and Mat the night prior. It might have been Tito’s many, many texts that day asking you to come because “Mat is always in a bad mood when you don’t come to games” that had you sitting in the stands sporting your Barzal jersey. You knew that you were welcomed in the Wives Lounge but sometimes you enjoyed sitting surrounded by random people you didn’t know and not having to socialize.

It definitely was a good idea at the time because yours and Mat’s fight had unfortunately been in front of some of his teammates and their other halves so you didn’t feel like getting questioned about it.

A loud bang caused you to nearly jump out of your seat and when you looked up, Tito was standing in front of you, grin on his face and waving. You had been distracting yourself on your phone so you wouldn’t look at Mat during warm-ups but you caught his eye when Tito had made you look up. You couldn’t really read the expression on his face. Part was probably irritation and the other maybe relief that you had shown up. The door slamming in his face the night before was probably still fresh in his mind.

Tito waving his hand in front of you brought you back from the memory and he had a puck in his hand, pointing it to you. You furrowed your brows at him because you already had a few pucks from games when you and Mat had first started dating because he had a habit of gifting you with a lot of Islanders things. So you caught it when he chucked it over the glass, intending to give it to the kid sitting next to you until you caught sight of some scribbles on the back. You flipped the puck over and your heart warmed when you realized it was Mat’s handwriting.

I’m sorry with a small heart was written messily on it and when you looked up and caught Mat’s eyes, you smiled and nodded and that must have been enough for him because he grinned and winked at you.

It was enough for now.

. . .

Meeting him at the locker room doors was not anything unusual but you were on edge that evening. You were pretty sure Mat had forgiven you for slamming the door in his face the night before but you were still nervous. When the guys started coming out of the locker room, dressed back in their game suits and grins on their faces, you kept your eyes trained on the doors waiting for Mat.

“He’ll be a few more minutes.” Tito said, stopping in front of you. “He’s doing an interview - game winning goal scorer and all.”

You smiled and let him ruffle your hair like you were his little sister despite the age difference between you two being minor. He always treated you like a sister from the moment you met and you liked that compared to some of Mat’s other young teammates who tried flirting with you in the beginning.

“Thanks, Tito.” You said, waving as he smiled again and walked away.

A little longer than a few more minutes, Mat walked through the doors. He was dressed in his suit again and his hair was wet from the quick shower he must have taken before coming out.

“Hey.” He said quietly, hesitating as if he had been trying to decide whether to approach you or not. When you held out your arms, he walked straight to you and wrapped his around you, lifting you off the ground slightly.

The two of you stood there for what felt like longer than it probably was before he loosened his arms and pulled away a little.

“I’m sorry.” He said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Me too,” you told him and stood on the tips of your toes so you could reach his lips. The kiss was gentle and slow and when you pulled away, you took a step back. “The fight was stupid and we both know it.”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I just… I feel like sometimes we fight for no reason and it frustrates me. I hate being mad with you.”

Deciding that Barclays Centre wasn’t the right place for his conversation, you took his hand and pulled him towards the exit.

“Let’s go home and talk.” You said and he nodded, squeezing you hand gently and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As you both walked to his car, you idly wondered when home stopped being a place and instead became a person.

May

The Islanders got put out of the playoffs during the second round and although you knew Mat was upset, he shrugged and said, “there’s always next year.” You wondered if that was what got professional athletes through the losses in their careers.

The end of the hockey season meant Mat going home to B.C and it left you in an odd place. He didn’t directly ask you to come with him for the off season but the way he described his summer plans, made it seem like you were involved.

But you being you prevented you from outright asking if he wanted you to come home with him. It was a big step and you weren’t sure you could handle the rejection.

As the date he was leaving quickly approached, he asked if the two of you could talk and your stomach plummeted at his words. You agreed though and during the drive to his apartment, you mentally prepared yourself for the rejection.

He greeted you at the door with a kiss which eased some of your worries but when he started making you your favourite ice tea, you started getting worried. He was mindlessly babbling about random things until he sat on the stool next to you and when you looked at him, he was uncharacteristically serious.

“You could have told me you didn’t want to come to B.C,” he said. “I wouldn’t have been offended, I know you have friends here and probably had summer plans-”

“Mat.” You said quickly, cutting him off. “I want to come with you. To your home.”

He stopped his babbling and looked at you in shock. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“But you didn’t say.”

“Well I mean, you never asked.”

He rose his eyebrows comically high. “I didn’t think I had to.”

A smile broke out across your face and you leaned forwards so you could kiss him. He chased after you when you sat back making your grin widen. “I just didn’t want to push. We spend nearly all year together so I didn’t know if you wanted space for the summer.”

“Y/N.” He said seriously. “I want to be with you. Forever.”

And if that wasn’t the sweetest and most romantic thing a man had ever said to you, you weren’t sure what was.

June

Summer with Mat was, well, amazing. Days spent on the lake and nights spent under the stars ended up making that summer one of the best in your life.

Meeting his family for the first time was equally frightening as it was exciting. His father, Mike and mom Nadia were two of the kindest people you met and you quickly bonded with his sister Liana. They took you in as if you were their own and Mat frequently joked that they were stealing you from him.

You didn’t mind though. You loved spending days shopping at the mall or going to the beach with Liana. Brunch with his mom was always lovely and she always managed to tell you the funniest and most embarrassing stories about Mat. It gave you a little leverage when you needed it and on top of that, Mat was overly cute when he would pout at you jokingly poking fun of him.

Every single day, you realized you fell a little more in love with him and that realization nearly knocked you off your feet.

July

“Let’s go out tonight together.” He said one morning. “Just the two of us.”

Not having spent much alone time together as you would have liked, you quickly agreed. Mat didn’t tell you where he planned on taking you but he must have told Liana because she chose an outfit for you. It gave you a small idea of what he might have been planning.

She didn’t pick out a fancy dress which told you that he wasn’t bringing you to a high end restaurant which you were secretly pleased about because you never quite felt like you fit in at places like those. You much more preferred to go to a small diner so when she chose a cute romper with a pair of sandals, you had a bit of an idea of where you might be going.

“Any hints?” You asked, placing a hand over his which was resting on your thigh.

He shook his head and grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

You pretended to be bothered by it but you felt giddy inside that he was putting so much thought in to your date. It was also fun playing a guessing game, throwing ideas at him of where he was taking you even though you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. You had carefully watched his reactions to your guesses so you weren’t overly surprised when your ride ended at a park.

It was pretty late in the evening, getting close to dark so there were very few people out and around. He parked his car and reached in the backseat to grab a bag before climbing out of the car.

You knew he liked opening the door for you so you waited until he opened it before getting out as well. He took your hand and lead you to a park of the park that was empty and then dropped the bag on the ground and dug around, pulling an old blanket out.

“Picnic?” You asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is it okay?” He asked and you sat down when he spread the blanket out.

“It’s perfect.” You told him, watching as his face lit up. He sat down next to you and started pulling different snacks out of his bag, handing you some of your favorites.

“Mom helped pack the lunch.” He paused. “I had to stop her when she tried to cook a three course meal for us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh because it was a very Nadia thing to do.

“I love your mom.” You said. “I love your entire family.”

He smiled, looking at the ground as if he was concentrating on something. You knew the look enough that it meant he was going to say something but was either nervous and was working himself up to saying it or would decide not to say it at all.

But you wanted to know what he was thinking so you nudged him.

“What’s going on in your head?”

His cheeks were red when he lifted his head and he shrugged, smiling.

“I love you.”

Your smile was as bright as one of the stars and he met you halfway when you leaned towards him.

“I love you too.”

August

August was one of your least favourite months because it meant that summer was coming to an end. It also meant that off season was coming to an end and it meant that you and Mat would soon be heading back to New York. You loved it there, you really did. You missed your friends and your job but you knew you would miss B.C even more so when the day came that the two of you had to leave, you weren’t ashamed of the tears that were shed. Nadia made you promise to visit again soon and it was an easy promise to keep.

As soon as you got home, Mat was right back at training for the new season. It was a big change from spending basically every single day together to having to share him again with hockey. You loved Mat and you loved that he did what he loved but sometimes you did wish he had a normal nine to five job. He knew you felt that way some days and you could tell he sometimes felt a little bad about it but what you came to learn throughout your relationship with Mat, was that hockey nearly always came first. It was something that you struggled a lot with in the beginning of your relationship but it got a little easier as time went on.

On your best days, you would watch Mat train and feel pride in how determined and hard working he was.

On your worst days, you laid in bed at night and tried to think of your first kiss with the snow falling softly around you, warm sunny days at the lake and late nights under the stars.

Sometimes it was enough but sometimes, it wasn’t.

September

Wake Me Up When September Ends is the most played song on your playlist for an entire month.

October

You never know the biggest fight of your life is coming until it happens. It’s something that starts as the smallest of things until suddenly it hits you like a freight train and the impact is devastating.

That’s what the biggest fight of yours and Mat’s relationship was like.

You hated shouting and screaming. You hated threats to give everything up and walk away. You hated how easy it felt to do just that.

But what you hated most of all, was feeling like you were never enough. Like no Mater how hard you tried, failure was bound to happen and there was no way you could stop it.

And that was exactly what happened.

Slamming doors was your thing. It was childish and immature but it was a way of you making a point when you were angry about something so when Mat slammed a door, you knew he was past anger.

Mat rarely got angry with you. It could be counted on one hand the amount of times he even raised his voice at you but that night, the two of you yelled at each other until your voices were hoarse.

“Why can’t you understand where I’m coming from?” You snapped, watching him pace back and fourth across the living room. His hair was a mess, he had been running his hands through it and tugging enough that you thought he would tear it out.

“Because it makes no sense!” He yelled, “you knew what you signed up for when we started dating! I can’t be your typical nine to five boyfriend who comes home every night.”

“I’m not asking you to be that! I’m asking you to try and put more effort in to this relationship!” You shouted, not caring about the noise complaints you received from your neighbors a week later. “Do you know what it feels like when you feel that you’re the only one putting any effort in? What it feels like when you look at your friends relationships only to realize that yours isn’t even close to how good theirs is?”

“So you’re calling me a terrible boyfriend.” He said dryly.

“That’s not what I said and you know it. Stop putting words in my mouth, Mat.”

“I’m not putting words in your mouth if that’s what you’re saying. If you’re so unhappy, then why are you still with me, huh?”

His words stopped what you planned to say and you stared at him in shock. A small part of you wondered what the answer to his question was. Were you really that unhappy that you considered leaving?

“I…” you began but trailed off as you watched any emotion leave his face. The hurt and even anger disappeared and you didn’t realize how quiet the room was until he shook his head.

“I’ll make it easier for you.” He said, grabbing his coat and keys. “I’m done.”

You felt like you were frozen in place as you watched him leave, slamming the door behind him. Minutes passed before you slowly walked towards the front door, opening it in hopes that maybe just maybe he was standing on the other side but when you opened it, the hallway was empty. It was dead silent and when you looked at the floor, you saw Mat’s key to your apartment laying there, the little heart and smiley face you had drawn on it staring up at you as if it was mocking you.

You knelt down to pick it up and suddenly it felt like you couldn't breathe, like all the air was pulled from your lungs and your heart was cracking open.

If meeting Mat felt like breathing for the first time, then losing him felt like drowning.

November

You thought that heartbreak was something that passed eventually, that it got easier every day but it was a lie. You didn’t get over Mat quickly, in fact, it felt like every day got harder and you always told yourself you wouldn’t be that girl. The girl who gets her heart broken and can’t get over him. You wouldn’t cry yourself to sleep some nights or be afraid to turn the TV on in case it was the sports channel and you saw his face.

You scrubbed your apartment clean of him, everything he gave you and anything that reminded you of him sat in boxes on the top shelf of the spare bedroom. It didn’t help though because the memories, those were impossible to forget. They were engraved in your brain forever.

You hated him for how easily he left, how easy it was for him to walk out of your life as if he was never here.

Tito texted you a few time in the beginning, first asking what happened and then asking if you were okay or if you needed anything. You guessed he got the message when you didn’t answer because you haven’t heard from him in weeks and you weren’t sure if that made you relieved, or sad.

Falling in love was easy you realized.

Falling out of love was impossible.

December

A year passes swiftly. Especially when it’s both the best and worst year of your life. You hated yourself for it, but when December hits, you wondered how Mat was. You wondered if he got over you quickly or if he struggled the same way you did. You suspect it was the former.

At the end of every year, you liked to go through your things and donate what you don’t need or want. You started with your clothes and as you went through it, you noticed that you were missing several of your favourite outfits and your heart sank when you realized they were at Mat’s.

It left you with a dilemma. Leave them, or be a big girl and go ask for them back. You could go through Tito to get them back but you don’t know if he’s upset with you for ignoring him just because you broke up with Mat. He was your friend and it was unfair what you did but at the time, you were hurting.

But still, you decided to do it yourself and go get the clothes from Mat’s apartment and whatever else you might have left there. You did your best to get ready and look presentable and when you felt ready, you grabbed your keys and headed for the door. When you opened it, a hand nearly collided with your face as the person standing there was starting to knock. They jumped back and when you looked up, you found yourself staring in to the eyes of the exact person you were going to see.

“Mat.” You whispered, feeling like you needed to reach out and touch his face to make sure he was actually standing there and you weren’t hallucinating. But you didn’t because that would just make you look insane.

“Hi.” He said quietly and the two of you stood there for an unknown amount of time staring at each other.

Eventually, you found your voice.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, not harshly but confused.

He opened his mouth to say something but it was if he couldn’t get the words out. Like they were stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said and you looked at him in shock.

“What?”

He scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor. “What I said to you… it was unfair. I know I fucked up, and I don’t deserve a second chance but these past two months, I missed you like Hell.”

You were lost for words. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t miss him too but were you really willing to put your heart on the line again and it got broken so easily last time? Could you even handle another heartbreak like that?

“Can we… can you give me a second chance?” He asked so timidly and quietly that you barely heard him.

You let yourself think back over the past year, remembering every single detail. All the joy, laughter, love and heartbreak. Was it worth it? Risking everything again even though you could end up broken again?

You found yourself looking at Mat again, hazel eyes warm and hopeful and it makes you think of the very first time you met. You were faced with the same decision - to let him in or let him go?

You knew you could live without him but you realized standing there, thinking about the past and what the future could be - you didn’t want to live without him.

So you stood up on the tips of your toes and pulled his lips down to meet yours and it felt like you were whole again.

“I can.”

(a couple years down the road, you’ll be saying I do in front of your friends and family with the love of your life and you’ll realize that yes, the risk was worth it.)

#mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years

Text

The Clark Kent Effect

Part Four

AN: I finally did it! I’m getting back into writing after weeks of no thoughts head empty yay!! I’d really love to hear your thoughts on this one, I’m really excited for you guys to read it. It’s kind of important, ya know. God I wish I could say more but I don’t want to take away from anything. Also I love this gif of Mat, thank you @gabelandeskog for blessing our timeline with it.

Song: Slow Hands - Niall Horan (spoiler sorry)

Word Count: 5.6k (oops)

Warnings: explicit language, smut (also spoiler, sorry)

Masterlist / One / Two / Three

With the playoffs approaching January was a busy month. Time in between games was stretched thin but somehow that still didn’t stop Mat from showing up at your door from time to time, usually after an exhausting game or the end of a roadtrip. Despite the voice in your head telling you that this wasn’t a good idea you couldn’t find it in yourself to turn him away.

The two of you would watch nature documentaries together, sometimes talking about his games if he was in the mood and other times you’d simply do your best to take his mind off things. Not in the way one might think though.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable, but neither of you acted on it, choosing to bask in each other’s company instead of addressing the issue at hand. Nothing besides getting cuddled up on your couch ever happened but it was clear that neither of you were able to keep yourself from doing something stupid much longer.

Something was bound to happen sooner or later but for now the two of you managed to hold everything together. Sort of at least.

One night Mat had taken off his hoodie - not for obvious reasons - but because two people underneath a fluffy blanket generated a lot of heat and he’d simply gotten too hot. You honestly hadn’t even thought of it until Emily had stood next to your couch, said dark grey hoodie with Mat’s number and last name clearly visible on it in her hand.

“How did this get here?”, she’d asked and for one second you contemplated making up a bullshit excuse before conceding, knowing full well she’d be able to see through your lies either way. Maybe you’d even benefit from hearing a second opinion right now.

So you explained what had gone down in the weeks since New Year’s, leaving her speechless.

“I wanted to tell you about it, I promise, but I haven’t even figured for myself what it is. I wouldn’t even know where to start explaining”, you rambled further, taken aback by your friend’s silence following your confession.

Emily was many things, but quiet definitely wasn’t one of them. It only lasted a couple of minutes though, as she seemed to gather her words before speaking up:

“I don’t even know what to say to you.” That much was obvious. “All I know is that you’re bound to get hurt if you don’t talk to Tito about this. You like Mat and he likes you just as much I can tell. If Tito is as much of a good friend as you think he is he won’t stand in the way of your happiness, no matter who it is with.”

She had a point of course, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Tito, not yet at least. You weren’t even sure what you were holding out for, maybe some magical moment that would give you the clarity you desperately needed but for now you weren’t going to say anything.

It wasn’t like Mat had said anything either though and his role in this – whatever this was – was just as big as yours after all. Both of you would be risking an important friendship if you were to pursue each other, wasn’t it reasonable that you wanted to be 100% sure about things first?

However life as usual didn’t hold out for you, leaving you no choice but to finally make a decision after all.

Said decision came under the guise of a party invitation, an invitation you couldn’t possibly turn down. But first you had to attend a game, the last game before bye week and against the Rangers of all teams. Emily and Rafael were having dinner with Rafael’s parents so it was only Dana and Mariah who were able to join you for tonight.

The three of you had only been able to get some mediocre seats because you hadn’t started looking for tickets early enough, thus disappearing in between the masses of Islanders fans that had made it out to the Garden as well. This time Mat definitely wouldn’t be able to find you in the stands after scoring a goal, you were barely able to find him on the ice after all.

They came out on top though, something you were grateful for because a loss wouldn’t have set the right mood for tonight. This time you watched the masses pile out of the arena before getting up yourself because you’d have to wait for the boys either way so it wasn’t like you had to beat any traffic. The plan was to meet in front a back entrance and you were grateful that you’d grabbed a warm coat to protect yourself from the freezing January air as you and your friends waited for the rest of your group.

You could hear them long before they made their way through the door, Mat’s cackle bouncing off the walls and making you smile as well, his laugh nothing but infectious. Only four of them would go out with you tonight, the rest understandably either going home to their kids or flying out early the next morning. Greetings and congratulations were kept short, everyone too excited to finally get to said party to dwell on such trivial things.

Tito had met this fancy music producer a couple of weeks ago and because famous people apparently liked to associate with other famous people he’d been invited to his fancy housewarming party. Tito had then proceeded to snag invites for the rest of you as well and you for one couldn’t wait to see the promised freshly remodeled penthouse suite in Williamsburg. Having friends among New York’s elite certainly paid off.

After finally entering said building the lot of you piled into the elevator and Tito pressed the button at the very top, accompanied by oohs and aahs from Dana, Mariah and you. You’d thought that arriving at a party without ever meeting the host beforehand would be awkward but it turned out that Nick, said music producer, was actually a really nice guy who immediately introduced you to some people after showing you where the drinks were.

The guys got recognized almost immediately and while they were bombarded with hockey questions you grabbed Dana and Mariah so you could dip towards the bar, needing alcohol in your system. You grabbed some drinks for the boys as well, a rum and coke for Mat and beers for the rest of them, carefully dancing around intoxicated party guests so you wouldn’t spill anything on what you imagined to be a very expensive carpet.

As the hour got later and everyone inside proceeded to get plastered you stepped out on the terrace, wrapped tightly in your coat and enjoying the view of the East river, the Brooklyn Bridge to your left and the Manhattan Skyline in the distance. The apartment was beautiful, really, but not even the tasteful interior design could compete with the view it provided.

You could still hear the faint beat of the music thumping but besides that and the ever-present sound of the city that never sleeps it was quiet. Everyone else was inside, avoiding the cold like any reasonable person would and in turn giving you some time by yourself to sort your thoughts.

You were so lost in them that you didn’t even hear the glass sliding doors open and close, didn’t notice that someone had joined you outside until Mat stepped beside you, making you jump a little.

“Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry”, he just chuckled, taking another step closer until your shoulders almost brushed, resting his hands on the railing. He looked out to the city and you looked up at him, suddenly not interested in the twinkling lights in front of you any longer. It was hard not to after all, his soft expression and tousled hair practically demanding your attention. He looked good tonight, still dressed in his game day suit which was now covered by his jacket though.

“You’re not usually the kind of person to just disappear, why are you outside by yourself?”, he asked, his breath creating white clouds in the air.

“I’m not by myself right now, am I?”, you responded and he just smirked, eyes still focused on the skyline though. “It’s quiet out here, I came out so I could think.”

“And what is that pretty head of yours thinking about?” At this point you weren’t sure if your cheeks were this rosy because of the alcohol you’d consumed, the cold, his words or a combination of all three things. You did however blame the alcohol for your next words.

“You. Us, I guess.”

You could tell he stopped breathing for a moment, the steady rhythm of white clouds interrupted as he turned towards you.

“You are?”, he asked quietly, his eyes portraying a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in them before.

There it was, the cumulation of everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

There was no taking it back now, you were long past the point of no return here. Maybe it really was the alcohol in your system that had finally gotten you to admit your feelings to Mat but everyone knew that the drunk mind only speaks sober thoughts.

“Of course I am, you should have figured that out by now. I don’t watch nature documentaries with anyone after all.” That got a chuckle out of him but it did nothing to the look of absolute adoration that had taken over his features. Now it was your turn to hold your breath as you waited for his next words.

“Why thank you, I feel honored. But this certainly makes things easier, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, about us, either.”

This was real. This was the magical moment and while it didn’t exactly provide you with an omnipresent clarity it finally solidified where either of you stood in this situation. You only wished that it wasn’t happening on the terrace of some guy you still barely knew with your friends inside, able to walk in and ruin said moment.

“Don’t worry, Tito is too busy following Dana like a lost puppy to come out here”, Mat said, seemingly able to sense in which direction your thoughts were going.

“He knows she plays for the other team, right?” In fact, you were pretty sure that there was something going on between Mariah and her but you weren’t about to pressure either of them for answers before they were ready, especially with Mariah only being in straight relationships before.

“As long as it keeps him busy I won’t tell him if you don’t.” The accompanying wink made you snort a little but the sound quickly died in your throat when he placed his hands on your hips, carefully walking you backwards towards the edge of the terrace. Here you were hidden from the people inside, invisible to possible curious onlookers. He was shielding you with his body as well, the two of you practically pressed together from head to toe as he crowded you against the wall of the building.

He then reached up and placed one of his hands on your cheek, carefully tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. All you could do was stare up at him, frozen in place and unable to move. He looked at you with absolute reverence, like he’d never held anything this precious in his hands and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if your heart straight up decided to leave your body and be with him instead.

“Please tell me I can kiss you right now”, he whispered and you didn’t trust your voice so you only nodded, not a single doubt left about your decision.

He leaned down towards you, and after months of pining for each other your lips finally met.

It was sweet and soft, his lips still tasting like the rum you’d seen him drinking all night and yet it was perfect and right. His hand moved up into your hair, holding you close as the two of you explored each other for the very first time. It wasn’t like you were going anywhere though, not even an apocalypse would have gotten you to stop kissing Mat right now.

He pulled back eventually - after what could have been seconds, minutes or hours - both of you breathing heavily as you tried to fill your lungs with the oxygen they’d just been deprived of. Your heart was running a mile a minute, beating so hard against your ribs that you were convinced Mat could feel it as well, despite all the layers that currently separated you. You weren’t done with him though, so after catching your breath you pulled him down to you again.

This time there was more force behind the kiss, the initial phase of careful exploration over. One of his arms found its way underneath your coat, wrapping itself around your waist and pulling you even closer while the other one was still buried in your hair.

Mat licked along the seam of your lips asking for permission, which you gladly granted, allowing him to deepen the kiss. In a second the entire mood shifted. He dropped his hand then, tightly grabbing your ass and groaning when you rolled your hips against him. By now you weren’t feeling the effects of the alcohol anymore, instead intoxicated by his kisses. You could get lost in him forever.

As you slowly came back to your senses you realized that might not be the best idea however, as the two of you spending hours out on this terrace might raise suspicions, despite Tito apparently being distracted by Dana right now. So you pulled back, reluctantly, slightly pushing Mat off of you. He must have taken it as you rejecting him and his brows were knit together in confusion. You quickly spoke up before he could get a wrong idea of the situation:

“We should take this back to my place.”

His lips, those beautiful lips, swollen from all the making out formed a surprised ‘o’ and you almost laughed at his reaction.

“Unless you don’t want to, that’s totally fine as well”, you quickly continued, not wanting to push any boundaries. That seemed to finally get to him.

“Of course I do. I’ve been thinking about that for so long and now there’s no chance I’m leaving here without you”, he beamed at you, his smile so bright that the New York skyline behind him paled in comparison.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, he confirmed, leaning down for one last sweet kiss.

“Wait, before we go back inside though, your hair is a mess.”

“I wonder whose fault that is”, you responded, your voice dripping with sarcasm. He actually had the decency to blush, an adorable pink tinging his cheeks as he reached up to try his best at untangling your hair.

After he deemed your hair situation presentable again you followed him inside, instantly greeted by the party sounds again. It took a while until you managed to spot your friends and you had to stifle a laughter once you realized what was actually going on.

Tito was sprawled out on one end of the couch with Mariah and Dana on either side of him. By the looks of it Mariah was trying to get him to drink some water but he was just giggling up at Dana, who looked anything but amused by the situation.

“Oh my god”, Mat groaned, covering his face in embarrassment for his friend.

“What happened? He didn’t drink that much, did he?”

“No he didn’t but he took a space brownie from this random dude, saying something about how he needed to make the most of his week off. I don’t know how much was in there but he’s been like this for almost twenty minutes now”, Dana said with an eyeroll, Tito simply giggling again. You’d never seen him like this.

You knew that the reasonable thing would be to take him home with you since he didn’t live that far from your apartment, but you also knew that if you did that nothing else would happen with Mat tonight. Maybe you were being selfish, but just for this one night you allowed yourself to be.

“Could you guys take him home, please?”

“Oh come on, he lives way closer to your place”, Mariah protested immediately, obviously and understandably not wanting to be responsible for a greened out Tito.

You gave her a look, taking a step closer to Mat – who hadn’t said anything so far – and putting your hand on his shoulder. It only took a couple of seconds until realization dawned upon your friends and Mat just blushed, coughing awkwardly. You didn’t care that they knew now, it was only a matter of time anyway. Tito hadn’t noticed anything though because he’d closed his eyes and leaned his head back, blissed out and lost in his own world right now.

“You owe us”, Dana mouthed and Mariah nodded before motioning for the two of you to leave, which you gladly did. Mat called for an Uber as soon as the two of you stepped into the elevator and it was as if your streak of luck wasn’t over yet because the closest ride wasn’t even three minutes out.

Even traffic didn’t seem as bad as usual but maybe that was because Mat kept distracting you by rubbing small circles on your thigh. He’d pulled you close as soon as you’d settled into the backseat and was now making small talk with the driver, who was apparently an avid Islanders fan. On the one hand it was sweet to see him interact with a fan of his, on the other hand you’d rather kiss him senseless but apparently that part would have to wait.

“I can’t wait until I’m all alone with you”, he murmured in your ear when there was a break in the conversation, seemingly able to read your thoughts yet once again. The driver asked yet another question though before you even got the chance to respond, making you bury your face in Mat’s shoulder. He simply squeezed your hand, a lazy smile on his lips.

You’d never been so happy to see your apartment building before and you were even inclined to do a little happy dance when the car finally came to a stop in front of it. Despite all that you still thanked your driver, wishing him a good night and after Mat had taken a selfie with him you finally slid out of your seat. You were instantly greeted by the cold again but you barely even noticed it as Mat wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close once again.

“I swear I’m stabbing the next person who attempts to pull you into a conversation”, you grumbled as you made your way inside, leading Mat up the seemingly endless stairs until you finally reached your apartment door, unlocking it as fast as you could.

“But if you get arrested for attempted murder I wouldn’t be able to do this.” And with that he pulled you in for a kiss that was definitely worth being sentenced to prison. He pushed you up against the back of the door, the two of you instantly picking up where’d you left off on the terrace.

“I just wanna say that it’s cute you’d think I’d only get charged with attempted murder. This right here is a badass bitch”, you butted in after pulling away shortly but because you were still breathless it didn’t have the intended effect. He only giggled again, pushing your coat off your shoulders and then closing the distance between you once again instead of giving you a response. Not that you were complaining. Maybe you’d never be able to complain about anything ever again, not if he kept on kissing you like that.

It was a bit of a struggle to kick off your shoes with his lips distracting you but somehow you managed and he followed your lead before pulling you towards your bedroom. He knew the way by now, having changed in there many times after his games, which probably the only reason why neither of you smacked into any walls because it was pitch black in your apartment.

“Fuck, I can’t see shit”, he cursed upon entering your bedroom and you stifled a giggle, the alcohol you’d consumed earlier in the night and his presence making you giddy.

“There’s a switch on the right side of the bed..”, you trailed off, pulling out your phone to illuminate the room with the dim display light and giggling even more when you could hear Mat rummaging around until suddenly soft lighting filled the room.

“Ahhh that’s better”, he sighed, softly looking up at you from his new position on the edge of the mattress.

“Nice to see you again”, you joked while placing your phone on the nightstand before softly brushing over his cheekbones with your thumb. He only hummed before wrapping his hands deftly around the back of your thighs, pulling you close until you were perched on his lap.

“Likewise. Wouldn’t want to miss seeing your beautiful face for the world.”

Your heart just about melted at his words but then he captured your lips again, your mind immediately going blank. For a minute or two the two of you made out like teenagers and Mat only abandoned your lips to trail kisses along your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You didn’t bring him home with you to make out however, so you climbed off his lap, suddenly impatient.

He whined in protest but the sound died in his throat when you pulled off your sweater, leaving you only in your bra and jeans.

“Fuck. Wouldn’t want to miss seeing this either”, he said, pulling you close again until you were standing between his thighs and press open-mouthed kisses all over your cleavage, making you bury your hands in his hair. You were so lost in the feeling that it took you a couple of seconds to notice his hands working your jeans, quickly pushing them down your hips.

He cursed again once you were only left in your underwear but you stopped him before he could pull you back into his lap.

“What?”

“I think it’s not really fair that I’m practically naked and you’re still fully dressed in your suit.”

“And whose fault is that babygirl?”

The pet name almost made you forget your mission but somehow you managed to pull yourself together, his suit jacked and shirt soon discarded in some corner of your bedroom. He groaned when you sank to your knees in front of him, now eye-to-eye with his very prominent bulge. With quick fingers you made work of his belt and he helped you pull off his pants.

The image of him sitting in front of you now, only in his boxers, chest heaving, face flushed and with his hair all messed up would probably forever burn itself into your mind.

You took your time, lowering your lips towards his cock and mouthing along it over his boxers teasingly, unable to stop yourself. Mat squirmed under your touch, his breathing growing even more ragged as he buried his hand in your hair once again. He only allowed himself to enjoy this for a couple of seconds though before pulling you up to stand again, getting up as well and spinning you around before throwing you onto the mattress. You were tempted to make a WWE joke but your thoughts were quickly elsewhere when he climbed up on your bed, lowering himself between your legs.

By now you were so keyed up that the friction of his clothed cock against you had you moaning instantly. Mat groaned as well, kissing you fiercely as he rocked against you. When you arched your back he took the chance to unhook your bra, quickly throwing the lacey fabric over his shoulder as if it had offended his mother. He made sure to appreciate every inch of exposed skin, leaving you breathless.

Kissing his way down your body he hooked his fingers into your panties, looking up to ask for permission to take them off. You quickly nodded, watching him as he discarded the last item of your clothing, leaving you fully exposed to him. You weren’t nervous though, not with the way Mat looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

“You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” Every word was accompanied by a slow kiss, each closer to where you needed him most. He didn’t do anything but stare at you though, making you whine impatiently.

“Don’t worry babygirl, I’ll give you what you deserve soon enough. I just want to take my time. We’ve got all night after all.”

And with that he finally lowered his mouth towards you.

Mat being an amazing kisser should have given away the fact that he’d be amazing at other things, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he was eating you out right now. You were putty in his hands, begging for more as he traced slow circles around your clit with his tongue. Your legs were already trembling, face flushed as you arched your back off the mattress over and over again. To keep you from moving too much Mat had wrapped one arm around your stomach, pressing you against him, while his other hand was busy trailing up your inner thigh. When he finally sunk one of his thick fingers into your heat you almost came then and there but Mat noticed, of course, and slowed his movement even more.

“Please Mat, I need..”

“You need what?” He asked when you didn’t continue, stopping to look up at you. His finger kept pushing in and out of you, making it hard to form a coherent thought.

“More. Please, please, give me more.”

“God I love hearing you beg”, he whispered before finally fulfilling your wish, pushing a second finger inside you before wrapping his lips around your clit once again. He picked up his pace then, every move of his fingers and every stroke of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge until your body snapped.

You were a writhing and moaning mess beneath him, your legs shaking as he brought you through your orgasm, moaning himself when you pulled at his hair a little harder than you’d intended.

As soon as you came down again you noticed Mat grinding against the mattress and you moaned softly at the sight. He only winked at you though before wiping his face against your thigh and climbing back over you to give you a searing kiss, making you taste yourself on his lips.

He willingly let you roll him over until you were on top, helping you take off his boxers as well but ultimately stopping you when you moved to take him in your mouth, wanting to return the favor. He looked so tempting, all thick and long and with droplets of precum leaking out. You’d never wanted to suck a dick so badly before.

“Babygirl I can’t.. Otherwise this is going to be over embarrassingly fast”, he groaned, pulling you up until you were face to face again.

“Next time then.”

“I promise.”

You smiled contently at him before reaching over to your bedside drawer, fishing for a condom. Sitting on his thighs you reached for his cock, unable to stop yourself from stroking him a couple of times before rolling down the condom. You’d take what you could get with him.

“Ride me”, was all he said next and you eagerly moved up to align yourself with him, abandoning his thighs. For now at least.

Both of you moaned once you finally sunk onto him, welcoming him into your tight heat. It was a bit of a stretch and you took a couple of seconds to adjust to his size, Mat immediately sitting up to pull you in for a passionate kiss. With his hands guiding your hips and your arms wrapped around his shoulders you began to move slowly, unable to stop the moans echoing off your bedroom walls.

It didn’t take long until you’d found your rhythm and pushed Mat back to rest against your pillows, his hands on your hips still guiding you.

“You feel so good Mat”, you moaned as you leaned backwards, placing your hands behind you on his knees. This angle had him brushing against your g-spot with every move and it didn’t take long until you could feel your next orgasm approaching. Mat noticed, again, and raised one of his hands to let you suck on his thumb for a second before moving it towards your clit, circling it expertly. The added sensation had you shaking in no time, moaning loudly as you clenched around him, the waves finally crashing. Your entire body was tingling, heat spreading through your veins as you all but collapsed on top of him.

“You’re mesmerizing to watch”, he whispered in your ear and you smiled softly, unable to respond at the moment. He flipped you around without ever pulling out, now kneeling between your legs. His thrusts were slow until he could tell that you’d come down from your high again, only picking up his pace once you wrapped your legs around him.

Mat was wrong though, he was the one who was mesmerizing to watch. His hair was falling into his face, his lower lip was pulled between his teeth and his chest was glistening in a sheen of sweat as he fucked you with deep stokes. Nothing else would ever matter again as long as you got to see him like this, absolutely and utterly losing himself in you.

You could feel him getting close, pulling him in for a kiss as you wrapped your legs even tighter around him. His thrusts were picking up speed and losing their rhythm until he buried himself into you one last time, shuddering as he reached his own high with a moan, spilling into the condom.

“Fuuck”, he groaned softly and you chuckled softly, your legs still wrapped around as he continued to twitch inside of you. For a couple of seconds the two of you stayed like this, basking in the feeling until he reluctantly and carefully pulled out, rolled off of you and discarded of the condom.

He pulled you close then and you curled up against his side, slow hands trailing over his body. The both of you were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. After a while you regretfully pushed yourself up into a sitting position.

“I should go pee, wouldn’t want to get a UTI or something.”

“Good idea”, he laughed and you smiled down at him. He looked so happy and blissed out, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning down and kiss him one more time before hopping off the bed.

After finishing your business and pulling on your silk robe you looked at yourself in the mirror, smiling at how incredibly happy you looked.

Surely Tito would see that as well.

Emily was right, he was too good of a friend to not want you to be happy. Even if happy meant being with his best friend. You’d ask him to talk tomorrow, unable and unwilling to hide your feelings any longer.

You splashed some water in your face, contemplating to run a brush through your messed up hair before ultimately deciding to fuck it. Mat wouldn’t mind, he was the one responsible for it after all.

“I’m grabbing some water, do you want-“

The words died on your lips just like your smile when you stepped out of the bathroom to see Mat hurriedly buttoning up his shirt. He’d already pulled on his pants, the suit jacked already thrown on your bed, where the sheets were still messed up from earlier.

“What’s going on?”, you asked with a shaky voice, unsure if you even wanted to hear his answer. He wasn’t meeting your eyes and in that moment you knew that you wouldn’t like his answer. He abandoned his quest of fiddling with the tiny buttons then, pulling on his jacket instead and looking like a gigolo with his shirt still halfway unbuttoned.

“I gotta go. I still have to pack for St. Louis. Early flight and all that.”

You knew this was bullshit.

He’d asked you to come over to his apartment yesterday after you got off work to help pick out the suits he should take to the All Star Games. Hell, you’d packed half of his suitcase yourself after having enough of watching him haphazardly throwing in his stuff.

Why would he lie like this?

Before you could call him out on his bullshit though he was already out your bedroom door. You were left speechless, frozen in your spot and unable to follow him. You heard him shuffle in your living room, probably pulling on his shoes, until your front door closed behind him with a resolute bang.

He hadn’t even bothered to said goodbye.

Tagging: @jamiedrysdales @matbarzyy @nazdaddy @itrocksmysocks @yeeehaw-hockey @whitesummerx @teenagekook

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #hockey writing #nhl #my writing #new york islanders

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

Text

surprises- pt 8 | mat barzal

oooffff it’s been quite a long journey and thanks for sticking with me through the wait! it’s finally here- the next and last part of surprises! thanks to everyone for reading, thanks for all your lovely feedback and kind words throughout this series, and all the support as i worked through this last part! it’s meant the world to me and i hope you all enjoy this last part!

When you wake up one morning to absolute silence, you get suspicious. No baby cries, no sounds of Mat breathing next to you, nothing.

But when you investigate, you find Mat sprawled out on the couch, holding Maeve against his chest, and they’re both passed out. She’s grown, definitely grown a lot since you brought her home, but his hand still covers most of her body. You reach for your phone, snapping a picture (to add to the many you’ve taken of the two of them over the past month), only to fumble it when you see the instagram notification on the front screen.

Mat’s tagged you in a post and you sit down on the floor in front of the two of them as you slide to open it. And then, you gasp, immediately reaching to cover your mouth and hide the sound, as you look through the roll of pictures that Mat posted.

One Month with Maeve: You Like: eating, sleeping, anything your mom does You Dislike: tummy time

When you look up, Mat’s watching you, with a hopeful look on his face. “Hi.” He says quietly.

“Hi.” You return, flipping your phone around to him. “I call bullshit.”

He laughs-gently and quietly, so as not to wake Maeve-and then grins. “Oh yeah? On what?”

“That she likes anything I do.” Maeve’s just...so content anytime she’s in Mat’s arms. Anytime he’s just in her proximity. She’s recently started to recognize his voice, turning her head for it anytime she hears it...sometimes even over FaceTime. “You are definitely the favorite.”

Mat kisses the top of Maeve’s head gently; it’s a favorite thing for both of you right now, you’re pretty sure. “Maybe, but we still like anything you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “We?”

“Yeah, both of us.” Mat says, like it’s something he says everyday, totally normal and casual.

Cheeks flushed, you stand up. “I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“We’ll come.” Mat stands, careful not to jostle Maeve too much.

“You don’t have to.” You offer. You know how tired he is all the time now, between Maeve and playoffs. He could use all the rest he can get.

“I want to.” Mat settles himself on one of the chairs by the counter and re-adjusts Maeve. “I feel like I barely get to see you guys right now.”

“Somebody’s gotta pay off that nice, big house.” You chirp, pulling out the eggs to make omelets.

Mat laughs. “Can’t even move into it yet and it’s already costing me money.”

“Don’t think about the price tag until you get paid this summer.”

“Once again. You cannot max out my credit card in the Target Home Section. Even with a bonus this year.”

“I gave you the most perfect human ever and this is how you repay me?’

Mat looks down at Maeve, unable to stop the smile that grows over his face, and in return, you feel one spread across yours as you watch him. “Go crazy.”

-----

Two Months with Maeve: You Like: the new hockey mobile Uncle Tito bought you, when your mom and i talk to you You Dislike: the carseat, more tummy time

When you slip into Maeve’s nursery in the new house (just barely unpacked, but still the most unpacked room in the entire house by far), Mat’s got the same sad look on his face that he’s worn for the last three days, standing in the middle of the room, watching her sleep. You give him a minute, see if he notices your presence, and when he doesn’t acknowledge you, you slide behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, dropping your head between his shoulder blades. “You’re still amazing.”

Mat’s laugh is hollow and you know he’s thinking about how he was held scoreless for the last two games this series, thinking about all the things he could have done differently so that they weren’t eliminated. “You’re biased.”

“Like I’ve ever held back from telling you that you suck before.”

It’s not a smile, but the corner of his lips do turn up. “Fair.”

You smile, hiding the grin in his back. “We’re happy to have you home more.”

“Even though this means we won’t get to put Maeve in the cup?” You can picture his eyebrows raise with the question, even though it’s dark and you’re not even looking at him.

“I mean, she would have looked really cute in it.” You poke his side. “But I’ll get over it. We’ll just have to take cute baby pictures with her somewhere else.”

“You mean, like this new house we just moved into?”

“This new house we just moved into where every room is either filled with boxes or has no furniture?”

You feel Mat hesitate. “Maybe there’s a park nearby.” He says and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You agree, slipping around to curl into his side, so you can both watch Maeve sleep.

-----

Three Months with Maeve: You Like: that new activity mat, music, afternoon walks You Dislike: pop goes the weasel, noisy birds on the walks

“These came out so good.” Molly enthuses, beaming as she stares at the pictures of Maeve that you and Mat had professionally taken, shortly after your conversation about it, to send out in cards to everyone you know.

“Right?” It had taken a little to decide where you wanted to have the pictures taken, the house still not finished and immediately eliminated. Almost all the parks nearby had been eliminated by your photographer due to lighting and the one that hadn’t, had been nixed by you. You and Mat had both scrunched your nose up at the thought of bringing Maeve to the beach already, as well as a few other suggestions. In the end, though, you can’t imagine anyone will be shocked to see the ice rink in the background of a few of the pictures, and it seemed only fitting.

As usual, Maeve’s perfectly at ease in Mat’s arms, who’s beaming down at her, in your favorite shot of the afternoon, as you hang onto his arm gently to keep yourself upright, the same wide grin on your own face as you look at the two of them. There are so many other shots from the day- Mat skating while holding Maeve; the two of you laughing while you move easily on the ice; close ups of Maeve sleeping peacefully in Mat’s arms, just happy to be close to him (unless it’s the proximity to the ice- she is definitely his daughter). And then there’s all the candids.

“Some tough choices for the photo wall.” Molly muses.

“Gonna need lots of frames.” You agree, as the back door opens and Tito walks in, bouncing Maeve gently in his arms, closely followed by Mat and Brian.

“Alright, patio’s done.”

“Perfect!” Molly claps her hands together and you give her a look because she sounds too excited. “Great timing.”

Tito huffs, still bouncing Maeve, who’s smiling away at him and probably going to start giggling at any minute. She’d laughed for the first time last week and it felt like since then, she hadn’t stopped. “We said we’d have it done in time, didn’t we?”

“In time for what?” You press, skeptically.

“Yes, “Molly ignores you completely. “But I honestly didn’t believe you.”

“Rude.” Brian teases. “The lack of faith.”

“Yeah.” Tito adds. “What’d we do to deserve this?”

“What are you three talking about?” Mat huffs, and you feel ten times better already that you’re not the only one left out.

“Oh!” Molly blinks, like it’s only just occurred to her that she hasn’t actually told you what’s going on yet. “Right. You two are going out tonight. We made you a dinner reservation and we’re going to stay here and babysit while you do.”

You hesitate, relieved that when you look over to meet Mat’s eyes, you see the same look. “I don’t know.”

“We’re not going to force you to go.” Brian says, before Molly or Tito can jump in, with what’s certain to be a much less soft comment. “We just thought you could use a couple hours out. Without having to worry.”

It’s not...the worst thought, if you’re honest, and you can see the idea growing on Mat as well. “I mean, we’re probably still going to worry.” He says, even as you can see him start to grin.

“What, now, you don’t trust me with your kid?” Tito says, feigning hurt. “And to think, I almost made godfather.”

“Because YN’s brother almost didn’t show up.” Mat throws back at him.

“Classic Christopher.” You grin at the memory of your brother literally running into the church last month for the baptism only just in time.

“You two go get moving; we promise to take perfect care of your baby.” Molly says.

“Team Baby.” Tito sticks his free hand, the one not holding Maeve to his chest, into the center of the circle you’ve all formed, and stares at you all expectantly, until each one of you piles a hand on top of his. “Team Baby!” He cheers again, and then he steers Maeve over to her activity mat and lies down on the floor with her.

“Go.” Molly gestures and it doesn’t take much more for you and Mat to turn and start getting dressed because that’s her I mean business face. “Dress nice!” She calls after you. “Suit, tie, dress, heels. The works!”

“Where could they possibly be sending us?” Mat mutters as the two of you climb up the steps toward your room, and you hide your snicker much better than he does.

“Mathew!” Molly calls, warningly.

“First shower.” You call dibs to him, and rush past him for it, laughing at the look on his face.

While Mat showers after you, you fix your hair and makeup, and then step into your closet, already pulling a face at all your dresses before you even look at them.

You’re starting to feel more like yourself after giving birth, finally, after three months, but you don’t feel completely there. You’re not sure you ever will, that’ll you’ll ever feel that easy and carefree again, or that you’ll ever look the same again, and you’ve talked with Grace and Lauren, and are coming to terms with it. Have come to terms with it, really. The trade-off for Maeve’s smiles made everything worth it.

But.

But you don’t have a single dress that fits the way you like now.

There are four dresses on the floor of your closet and at least five more that you couldn’t even bring yourself to try on before you find a charcoal colored slip dress that’s covered in a pattern of dark sequins. The strappy heels that go along with it are an old comfort; they, at least, still fit you.

Mat’s holding a tie up in the mirror when you come out of the closet, like he’s debating if he actually has to wear it, but the second he sees you through the glass, his eyes go wide and the tie drops from his hand.

“Now those hands aren’t going to earn you that new contract.” You tease, unable to handle the thick silence that’s fallen between you.

“What?” It’s like he didn’t even hear the joke; his eyes are roaming up and down. “Fuck. You want to skip dinner?”

You actually kinda do. You’d seen Mat leaving the old apartment all spring in a suit on his way to the airport or the arena, all the way up until they’d been eliminated, so maybe it was just the context of the evening, but he looked unreal tonight. You nod, but then immediately bite your lip...which just makes Mat groan. “They’re not going to let us just stay here, though.”

Mat grins, reaching for your hand. “Trust me on this.”

“I do.” You smile at him, squeezing gently in return,

And it takes the two of you almost thirty minutes to leave the house after that, despite the heated looks in your bedroom, because neither of you wants to leave Maeve again once you see her, but Molly shoves you out the door with threats about missing your reservation, and once the door’s closed, that’s all it takes for Mat to turn his gaze right back to you.

There is, blessedly, still furniture in his old apartment, still his as he continues to decide whether to sell it or rent it, and you’ve never been so thankful for his unusual moment of indecisiveness as he lies you down into his old bed, pressing kisses onto any spot of skin he can find.

-----

Four Months with Maeve: You Like: playing with your toes, sitting, laughing and babbling You Dislike: when anyone takes a toy from you

Expecting Mat, you’re a little surprised when you turn and see that the form that’s flopped down in the shade beside you and Maeve is actually Tyson. “How’s my best girl?” He coos at her, as entranced with her as anyone else has been since you and Mat had come up to Canada last week to see Mat’s family.

Maeve giggles, babbling some noises back at him, and reaching her hands out for his curls. “Don’t.” You warn him, but he’d learned that lesson already this week, and he intercepts her with his thumb instead, a wide grin on his face. “Sucker.” You tease.

“How can you say no to this face?” He cries and yeah, when she’s laughing and smiling like that, you can see what he means. Especially because it’s Mat’s smile she seems to have inherited, even if it looks like the rest of Maeve’s features might be all you.

“Mmmm, you get used to it.” You tell him anyway, and Tyson grins knowingly, so you close your eyes, relaxing in the sun for a moment, confident that someone is watching your baby and you can get a few minutes of rest.

It doesn’t last long, because shortly after closing your eyes, you feel something heavy and wet plaster itself to you and you open one eye to glare, which is as much as you can be bothered with out by the lake. “Mat!”

He’s already grinning down at you, water from the lake dripping from his face to yours. “You looked a little hot.”

“I was very comfortable.”

Mat lays his head down on your chest. “Well, now I’m very comfortable.”

“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” You say, and you don’t need Tyson to laugh to know that you don’t sound serious at all.

“Liar.” Mat says, and you can feel him grinning against your skin. “You love me.”

You pause for a moment, unintentionally, as you move your hand up to play with his hair, but it’s long enough that you feel the smile start to slip from his face. “Yeah.” You tease. “I guess I do.”

Mat’s grin returns and he presses the softest kiss to whatever piece of skin he can reach, but before he can say anything else, Maeve starts babbling away. “I know.” Tyson coos at her. “They’re so cute it’s disgusting.”

“Hey!” Mat frowns. “Let go of my baby so I can push you down.”

Tyson laughs. “Well thanks for that get out of jail free card!”

-----

Five Months of Maeve: You Like: hide and seek, bananas, applesauce You Dislike: peas (can’t blame you, kiddo)

“Do we really want to try peas again so soon?” You frown at Mat, holding up one of the other jars of baby food.

He shrugs. “Gonna have to jump back in eventually.”

You pull a face. “Spoken like the man who didn’t get puked on.”

“We get puked on like ten times a day!”

“It was green!”

He laughs. “I’ll do the peas this time.”

You laugh. Sucker. “Deal.”

It’s super gratifying then, to see that Maeve hates the peas this time just as much as she had before. She’s not about Mat’s airplane noises once she realizes what’s on the spoon he’s trying to feed her with and none of his usual tricks are working to try and calm her down once she starts crying.

But when Mat looks at you for help, you don’t do anything but laugh, continuing to film the entire disastrous event. “Really?” He gives you a look.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You fire the video off into, like, three different chats- the one with his family, to Team Baby, and the Islanders Moms chat, because he could probably use the ego deflation- and then reach for Maeve, who settles almost instantly against you, her crying quieting as you hold her against your side.

“Sure.” Mat grumbles, dropping the spoon against the high-chair’s table. “All calm now.”

“Oh hush.” You tell him, with a smile, knowing exactly what he’s annoyed about. “You’ll go back to being her favorite in an hour; don’t worry.”

Mat tries to hide his grin by ducking his head to clean the high-chair but you see right through him.

-----

Six Months of Maeve: You Like: bouncing, rolling, wiggling, literally any kind of movement You Dislike: teething (but we dislike you teething too), staying still

“I think she’s going to really start crawling soon.” You remark to Mat, the two of you both seated on the floor, opposite sides of the room, to catch her before she could wriggle into any walls.

She hadn’t quite pushed herself up there yet, but she scooted around pretty well.

“Don’t say that.” Mat groans, reaching out for Maeve and ignoring her cry of protest as he placed her back on the ground, safely away from the wall. She gave him a look, but then went right back to rolling around, rolling onto her back and then over to her stomach again, scooting toward you. “Fuck, imagine when she can walk. Chasing after her.”

“Inability to sit still for sure comes from you.” You try to distract Maeve with a toy, watching as she puts it in her mouth and starts to gnaw on it. Her first tooth had come in the other week, an absolute nightmare, and you were pretty sure another one was following.

“Can’t prove that.” Mat says, eyes fond as he watches Maeve.

“Wanna bet?” You tease. That’s an easy phone call to make.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” Mat beams at you and you burst into laughter because you haven’t showered and you’re covered in baby formula.

“That’s what I thought.” You grin, and then reach out to pull Maeve away from the coffee table.

-----

Seven Months of Maeve: You Like: blocks, knocking down block towers, clapping blocks together, anything blocks You Dislike: noise-cancelling headphones

“These are so cute.” Grace beams, scrolling through the pictures on her phone and simultaneously bouncing a wriggly toddler on her lap. “I’ll send them out as soon as we get upstairs.”

You smile, thanking her already, fixing the earphone covering Maeve’s tiny head. It’s the Islanders’ home opener, Maeve’s first game actually attending, and there’d been a well-documented photo shoot with all the kids prior to the group of you heading down to the glass, to wait for warm ups to start.

She wasn’t a big fan of the headphones you’d placed on her ears, constantly reaching up to bat them off, but she was looking around, eyes wide as she stared at the crowd around her, even after both teams skated out for warm ups, unable to grasp what exactly was happening.

But she was smiling, beaming the whole time, a grin that only got wider when Mat skated up to the glass in front of you and put his fist up against it. She reaches for it as you bring her closer to the glass, grabbing out for it as he taps it with a grin, and then she babbles a bunch of nonsense when she’s stopped by the glass, retracting her hand immediately.

You and Mat both laugh and he gives one last tap on the glass to you both before skating off to rejoin warm ups.

He absolutely lights it up that night, but the gifs of the the three of you at the glass during warmups cycle through the internet for days.

-----

8 Months of Maeve: You Like: your favorite blankie, Cheerios, cheese You Dislike: i really tried with those peas, kid

You’d do literally anything for some sleep right now, even just a power nap. Mat had been gone on a road trip for a few days now, due back shortly, but Maeve had been so clingy the entire time he was gone, not even wanting to be held by Molly when she’d stopped in to visit, and fussing anytime you’d walked away from her.

She was playing with a couple of her toys on the floor right now, and it took everything in you to keep your eyes open to watch over her. You contemplated moving her into her bouncer, even as she kept side-eyeing you to make sure you were still close, just in case you accidentally dropped into a nap.

Suddenly, an arm drops over your shoulders and Mat’s pressing a kiss to your temple. “You look sleepy.”

“I’m exhausted.” You lean against him immediately. “When did you get in?”

“Just now.” He squeezes gently, smiling and waving as Maeve, who’s abandoned her toy the moment she saw him, clapping her hands together and beaming at him, babbling at him happily. “She keeping you up at night?”

“She’s just…” You trail off, not sure how to describe what Maeve is right now. Because on one hand, she’s not normally this clingy, and it’s certainly a change of pace. But it’s not a bad thing to have her so close to you all the time, for her to want to be so close to you- you don’t dislike it at all. “I’m just tired.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, but before he can say anything, Maeve reaches her arms out for him. “Da!” She’s frowning, probably because Mat’s been ignoring her in favor of you. “Dada!” She reaches out again, and this time Mat’s face lights up, both of yours do, as he sweeps her into his lap.

“Say it again!” Mat prompts, tickling her, which of course doesn’t get her to do anything but giggle.

“Dada.” You try, leaning closer, and she repeats it then, but won’t say it again, for all that Mat tries, struggling out of his arms right after that, to go back to playing.

Mat runs his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely floored, and you still haven’t stopped smiling either. Your baby’s first word! You have to tell everyone! But there’ll be time for that later; Mat’s comfy to lean against right now and he doesn’t look like he wants to go anywhere either, so you press a kiss to his cheek and then lie your head back against his shoulder, content to watch Maeve play with her blocks.

-----

9 Months of Maeve: You Like: walking, giving your mom and I heart attacks while walking You Dislike: sitting still for any length of time (stop laughing at me mom)

“You,” Mat sweeps Maeve off her feet and up into his arms as she toddles past him. “Went from walking to running in like two days! Give your mom and I a rest, kiddo.”

“She gets that from you.” You tell him, tiredly. He’s not wrong though. She’d started pulling herself into standing not long ago, and then shortly after, taken her first steps, and then it felt like the next day, she was off to the races. You spent most of your day chasing her around the house now; she almost never wanted to be picked up anymore.

Even now, she was squirming to get out of Mat’s arms and be back on the ground, already starting to whine about it. Mat obliges, and she takes off- or as well as she can; she hasn’t quite mastered it yet, her feet make that distinct slap noise on the floor that you associate with all babies walking.

Mat chases and brings her back, but you two quickly have to settle each on one side of the room, eyes watching Maeve and turning her between the two of you. “She needs a friend.” You mutter, steering her back towards Mat, for what seems like the hundredth time in ten minutes.

Mat nods furiously. “Suddenly I understand why people have more than one of these.”

You burst into laughter, loud enough that it stops Maeve for a second. But only a second; she’s right back to toddling over toward you, throwing herself at you, giggling along with you for a moment there. “One of these?” You call Mat out, and he joins you in laughing, as Maeve uses your arm to pull herself back up and starts walking again.

Mat shrugs it off laughingly. “You know what I mean.”

You do. “God, I used to not even imagine being able to have another one of her, but god, if another one meant they could entertain each other; I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’d have five more if it meant we didn’t have to chase her like this.” Mat pulls Maeve back into the room, a small noise of protest coming from her until he puts her back on the floor.

You give him a look. “You can find someone else to have five more with.”

When Mat smiles at you, it’s softer, not his usual bright beam. “Alright.” He says. “We won’t have five more. Two or three more.” You side-eye him, trying to gauge how serious he is, but he must take your silence for agreement, because then he does beam.

-----

10 Months of Maeve: You Like: patty cake, waving, causing chaos You Dislike: bananas, apparently, even though you loved them last month

“Tito!” You gasp excitedly, only just remembering to pick Maeve up and bring her with you, ignoring her fuss in favor of Mat and Tito walking in the door with something much more exciting. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting a dog?”

Luckily, she’s easily swayed by the dog, eyeing the wriggling puppy in Tito’s arms. She still doesn’t look like she’s 100% certain about it, but it certainly captures her attention; she stops moving in your arms entirely, blinking at the dog, unmoving.

“Uhhh.” Tito says, in response to you, looking at Mat and then back at you. “Not exactly what happened.”

Mat grins. “So you wanted a dog, right?”

Your jaw drops and the next words are out before you can even think about stopping them. “Shut the fuck up.” And then you immediately wince, because you’ve been on Mat recently about watching his language around Maeve, who’s soaking up words now like an absolute sponge.

But Mat only laughs, reaching to pull the puppy into his arms, and stepping closer to you and Maeve slowly. “Her name’s Blue, but we can change it.”

“Boo!” Maeve repeats, which really ices the cake on that one, and brings a smile to both of your faces. She’s reaching out for the puppy as Mat steps closer, and you prepare yourself for the worst, but Maeve bursts into happy giggles the second her hand touches the puppy.

Blue sniffs her tiny little hand tentatively, and then licks it happy, and Maeve giggles even harder as she does. “I might cry.” You announce. “This is the greatest day. I thought you’d never cave.”

Tito snickers. “He was worried he’d come home one day and you’d brought a stray home.”

“I considered it.”

“Thought this was better.” Mat agrees. “At least I got to screen for a good one.”

“All dogs are good dogs.” You state firmly. “Let’s put her down and let her explore a little.”

“Come on, Menace.” Mat takes Maeve from your arms, who goes happily, reaching for his hair as she does, but you’ve both caught onto the move by now, so he intercepts her hand with his thumb. “Let’s go follow your new best friend.”

-----

11 Months of Maeve: You Like: baby dolls, baby doll stroller, your fancy new cup, Blue You Dislike: puzzles- you’re not really about toys you sit for anymore

“How soon,” Mat starts one night, when you’re getting ready for bed, both child and dog already asleep in crib and crate from an exhausting evening of playtime. “Is too soon, do you think, to bring Maeve out for a skate?”

You’ve got a mouth full of toothpaste, but you think you still manage to convey what you want with a look. “You’re asking me this question?”

“Good point.” You rinse your mouth out and join Mat in bed. “Maybe we’ll start with mini-sticks and a soft ball.”

You burst into laughter. “You think she’s ready for that?”

“Oh she’s got this walking thing down now.” He brushes that off. “My girl’s an expert.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, we knew that was coming.”

Mat grins. “Work on that hand eye coordination now.”

You give him a look, trying to decide how serious he is, and then when deciding that he’s absolutely 100% serious, you press a kiss to his shoulder-the nearest spot of him that you can reach. “Please don’t kill our baby.”

Mat’s already scooting in closer to you, already half asleep because this asshole somehow manages to fall asleep like the second his head hits the pillow basically, and he throws an arm over your waist. “Mmm, kay, promise.”

-----

It was a mistake to sit down, you knew that before you even did it, but you’re exhausted from the day. Between spending your morning getting ready for Maeve’s birthday party, playing hostess throughout the afternoon, and then starting the clean-up process, you honestly think you could fall asleep right here against this wall that you’re leaning against.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you slip it out-it’s another message from Molly, probably just more pictures that she took throughout the afternoon-but it’s the instagram tag from Mat that really catches your attention.

The app opens to a picture of the two of you standing on either side of Maeve and her smash cake, both wearing happy parent smiles, as her hand brings another fist of icing to an already-covered face. There’s a picture with the three of you standing with his parents and sister; another with Maeve, Tito, Molly, and Brian; and the last one, just you and Maeve, sitting on the floor and her trying to play with the party hat Molly had put on your head, right after you’d fixed the bow on her headband.

1 Year of Maeve: Happy Birthday to our favorite girl! It’s been an entire year with you already and your mom and I can’t wait to see what comes in the next one

You can’t help but smile at both the caption and the pictures, unable to settle on one and still scrolling through the post when you feel Mat sit down next to you. “Somebody’s getting sleepy.”

The same dopey, fond smile is definitely still on your face as you turn to look at Mat and Maeve, who’s curled in his arms in a way she only does now when she’s absolutely exhausted. But she’s fighting it for sure, eyes fluttering shut and then popping back open again. “Big day.” You agree with him. “And it was a nice day. But I’m happy it’s just us now.”

“Yeah.” Mat says, and it almost sounds like his thoughts are completely in another place for a second as he shifts around on the floor for a second. “It was a great day.” It was; it truly was, and even though there’s still a mess to be cleaned, you’re perfectly content to just sit here for a while longer with Mat and Maeve. When he settles, you lean your head against his shoulder, reaching your hand out to rest it on Maeve’s tiny little wrist. “Hey.” Mat says gently.

“Hmm?”

“Marry me?”

“What?” You laugh, until he brings a hand out to you and opens his fist to show off a diamond ring, and then suddenly you’re not laughing at all. “Oh my god.”

“I just-I want a million more days like this with you,” Mat smiles. “I want forever like that. Marry me.”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, god yes, of course.”

And immediately, Mat’s kissing you, or well, trying to, because you’re smiling and kind of crying, and he’s still holding Maeve in his arms, so you both pull away pretty quickly. “I love you. God, I know I don’t tell you that enough, but I do. So much. It-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off. “I really can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mat beams at you and you reach your left hand out, biting your lip to avoid giggling as he fumbles a little, one-handedly sliding the ring onto it. But he succeeds, and you admire the ring on your finger, as you lean back against Mat’s shoulder.

The silence that follows is comfortable; the only sound the slight wheeze of Maeve’s breathing. “I think she’s finally out.” Mat says quietly, after a moment. “I’ll take her up?”

“Nah.” You clutch at his arm. “Just-let’s just stay here for a while.”

Mat smiles against the side of your head before he kisses it gently. “Okay.” He kisses it again. “But you know you’re stuck with me forever now, right? Not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his arm. “Not stuck.” Mat beams. “Well, I guess I might feel differently in a month or two.”

“Brat.” Mat says fondly.

“Yup.” You grin and then throw his own words right back at him. “But you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Never stuck.” Mat says, and it sounds like such a promise that you can’t help but lean over and try to kiss him again.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fan fic #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics #surprises series

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miracleonice87 · 4 years

Text

Make You Feel My Love with Nathan MacKinnon

a Nathan MacKinnon song fic

a/n: season outcome, timing, and stats = totally fake. based on Nate’s public mentions in past interviews of seeing a sports psychologist, which is really inspiring to me. seeking professional advice is a GOOOOD thing! also, wasn’t originally intended to be a song fic, but Adele’s version of Make You Feel My Love (originally by Bob Dylan) came on while I was finishing it up, so I went with it! last note: pretending Tyson never got traded to the Leafs is the best part of writing hockey fanfiction. 🥺

summary: Angry/Sad Nate loses in the playoffs and takes his frustrations out on his girlfriend Sam, who gets comfort and advice from his teammates and friends.

warnings: swearing; isolated, individual outbursts of anger but NO physical violence; mentions of counseling/therapy and the practice of sports psychology (obviously, like I mentioned, this is a good thing but just something to know); crying Nate (I feel like that deserves a warning)

_____

Deflated, I sat in a bulky black chair in the team family room deep in the recesses of the Pepsi Center for several minutes after leaving the wives and girlfriends suite, needing a moment away from prying eyes and cameras to process what had just occurred.

The Avalanche had been one of the highly favored teams in the West all season long, yet had just been swept in the second round of the playoffs. My boyfriend, Nathan MacKinnon, widely regarded as one of the best players in the NHL, had totaled only one point in the 11 playoff games the team had played this year, earning a single assist on a Mikko Rantanen goal.

Needless to say, that hadn’t been sitting right with Nate.

He’d been short with me since the first few games of the postseason; even shorter than he typically got when he was in a drought. I had tried to give him space, but he snapped about the smallest questions I asked or requests I made of him: what he wanted for dinner, or to be sure he called to wish his sister Sarah a happy birthday. He sometimes mumbled an apology in my general direction, but more often than not, he simply left the room in a huff. I tried my best to be patient — to give him space.

It was abundantly clear that the pressure that always loomed heavy over Nathan like a thick, dark cloud had now intensified. I knew, without him ever verbalizing it, that he felt more burdened than ever before to live up to the hype — to the expectations he had for himself, and to those placed on him, either explicitly or implicitly, by the entire hockey community and the media.

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

I sat still with my head in my hands for what seemed like forever, until sweet Mel Landeskog, whom I had become so close with over the last four seasons of watching our significant others play together, came and rubbed my back gently through the custom Avs denim jacket that hung on my shoulders. I lifted my head to look at her, a sympathetic smile etched on her beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Mel offered. “I know he’s gonna be so hard on himself. But he had such a great season — he needs to be proud of that,” she reasoned. I nodded.

Mel was right. He had had a truly remarkable regular season — he had scored 95 points in 82 games after a enduring a considerable slump for much of the previous year. This year stood in stark contrast to last. He had been riding high for many weeks; that is, until playoffs hit.

I stood to wrap Mel in a hug, appreciative of her gesture of support but unwilling to reflect on Nate’s play right now. “Thank you, Mel,” I told her as I squeezed her tightly. “I’m gonna miss you so much this summer,” I added, gesturing to the car seat on the floor beside her. “And Nate and I will both miss that little one, too,” I said as I blew Linnea a kiss, making her giggle, a welcome sound after a heartbreaking display on the ice. Mel glanced down at her baby daughter, beaming.

“I know, honey. We’ll miss you too. But it won’t be long until we’re all back here together, plus we’ll see each other for a couple of these bachelorette parties and summer weddings and get-togethers, yeah?” she said with a nudge.

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. Until then, you guys be safe,” I told her. With one last hug and quick kisses to each other’s cheeks, Mel picked up Linnea in her seat and exited the room. I realized that she and I had been the last two wives or girlfriends to leave, with most of us having exchanged quiet goodbyes in the suite before making hasty escapes to the parking area to console our respective sad hockey players.

With a groan at the depressing thought, I pulled my jean jacket tighter to my torso and walked slowly out the open door.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

The locker room doors stood maybe ten yards down the hall. The usual rambunctious ruckus that so often echoed off the cinderblock walls was tonight exchanged for a thick silence. It seemed that most of the guys had already left, and those who remained were noiseless. I softly greeted a few of the familiar men who made their way out the doors, offering only a sad smile and a few words of comfort to each, knowing that they weren’t in the mood to engage. They were, however, still polite, with several of the players embracing me briefly or kissing my cheek as they left the building.

Gabe Landeskog was among the very last to leave the room, unsurprisingly, as he was ever the responsible and respectable captain. He spotted me immediately and enveloped me in his strong grasp.

“Hi, friend,” I whispered into his shoulder, worried that my voice would break. “Hi, söt flicka,” (sweet girl) he countered.

“I’m sorry, Cap,” I told him quietly. He pulled back and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Wasn’t our year,” he replied with a shrug. “As you can imagine, Nate is taking it pretty hard...” his voice trailed off. “I just want you to be prepared,” he finally added, carefully.

My stomach knotted. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear and swiftly licked my lips, feeling anxiety pool in my gut.

Gabe placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Just remember it’s not you he’s upset with. It’s himself,” he said softly. I quickly glanced up at him and nodded. “Thank you,” I choked out. “Now you better get going. You’ve got two beautiful girls waiting for you,” I told him, feigning a bright grin. He tried to mirror my expression, but fell short. It was unnatural to see such sadness in his normally joyful visage. He squeezed my upper arm.

“That I do,” Gabe agreed. “We’ll see you soon, Sam.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Bye, Cap.” He gave a solemn nod and disappeared down the hallway.

My unease only multiplied after my exchange with Gabe. I began to pace slowly in a circle. I jumped a few moments later when the door flew open with a screech, Nate emerging from behind it, a bitter, dark expression on his face.

I greeted him softly, tentatively, reaching a hand toward him.

“Nate, baby, I —“

My boyfriend brushed past me in a flash, causing a literal draft of air to hit me as he held up his hand, never even making eye contact with me as he practically stomped down the corridor.

My blood ran hot — how dare he not acknowledge my presence after I had attended how many home games, and even road games, supporting him and cheering him on, no matter what? And that was just this season — what about the three prior? Why was he shutting me out? My heart thumped against my ribcage.

“Nathan,” I called, my voice firm this time, whipping around to face his back and then fumbling with the chain of my Louis Vuitton bag as it fell from my shoulder. Discombobulated, I threaded it back over my arm clumsily and took two hurried steps in Nate’s direction, but he was already out of sight.

Just then, I noticed our close friend Tyson Barrie standing a few feet behind me. I could infer from the way he was approaching me gingerly, which was highly unlike him, that he had witnessed our exchange, or the lack thereof. I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead, his hand coming to grip my other elbow.

“Sam, sweetheart... you okay?” Tyson asked softly. Hot tears pricked my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall, blinking them back with a sniffle. My hand fell back to my side — I was shaking now.

“I knew he would be mad...” I began. “But what the fuck, Tys?” My voice wavered.

Tyson instinctively pulled my waist to his side, giving me a quick, protective kiss to the temple, before pulling away and offering me his hand.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he volunteered. With another sniff, I shook my head. “No, it’s okay, Tys. I drove, thank god,” I spat. “Besides, you’re dealing with the same disappointment. You need to go home with Em and unwind,” I insisted, smoothing one hand over his suit jacket. His head dropped and he offered a weak nod.

“I guess. But listen, if he’s still not acting right, call me, okay? You know you can come over. You’re always welcome, especially when he’s being such an ass,” Tyson said, the end of his sentence turning into a growl. We both sighed; I nodded.

“Thanks, Tys. I’ll let you know. And listen, I’m sorry... about tonight. I know it hurts,” I told him, hugging his neck with one arm. He spread his fingers over my back and gave me a squeeze before stepping back to look into my eyes.

“It’s just hockey,” he said quietly. I smiled weakly and nodded once. “Bye, Sam. See you soon,” he said, rubbing one hand over my shoulder as he turned and made his way down the hall to find Emma.

If only Nathan shared his friend’s logic and sentiment.

I dropped my head back at the thought, tears once again collecting in my eyes. I forced them closed in an attempt to stay composed. With another sigh, I slowly started toward the private parking garage where my vehicle waited.

Unsurprisingly, as I stepped through the glass door and into the garage where I spotted my Audi, the spot next to me where Nate’s Porsche had been was empty. I unlocked my car, tossed my bag and scarf into the passenger side, and slammed my door shut before giving the steering wheel two firm bangs with the palm of my hand. My body still hadn’t stopped trembling.

I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

I rested my forehead against the leather steering wheel for a moment before drawing a breath and finally backing out of my spot and exiting the garage, apprehensive of the scene I might find at the condo Nathan and I shared.

_____

I stepped through the front door tentatively, chewing on the inside of my lip. I was careful not to make a sound, walking on tiptoes to avoid clicking my heeled boots on the white tile floor. I dropped my purse onto the table in the entryway and reached to hang up my keys on the rack by the closet when I heard the distinct sound of glass — a lot of glass — shattering.

I froze.

The plans I had formulated in my head during my drive to confront Nate as soon as I arrived home suddenly seemed too unnerving to carry out.

My knees were nearly knocking together as I zipped through the living room and tucked myself behind the wet bar in one corner of the room. I hid myself in a partially-enclosed area where the wine and beer fridge stood, then felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I fumbled to answer it, not wanting to make too much noise.

Sidney Crosby, the onscreen caller ID read. I tapped the green button.

“Hello?” I was caught off guard by how frightened my own voice sounded as I answered.

“Sam, hi. Are you home?” Sid’s usually calm and collected tone was now bathed in concern.

“Hi, Sid. Yeah, I just got home. He’s, uh... it’s not good,” I said quietly, glancing at the staircase as I heard another thud upstairs, this time what sounded like a pair of shoes against Nate’s closet wall. On the other end of the call, Sid heaved a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I figured,” he said tensely. “I tried calling him thinking I might catch him on his way home and talk him down a bit, but he ignored my call. I’m sorry, Sam. Are you alright?”

I glanced down at my free hand which rested on the oak wood of the bar. I was still trembling, my fears of coming home to chaos having been realized.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I choked out, lying through my teeth. “It’s just hard to watch.”

A deep hum of understanding came from Sid’s throat. “I bet. Have you talked to him?”

I shook my head, despite the fact that Sid was nowhere nearby to see the gesture. “No,” I vocalized weakly. “He uh... he kinda... he didn’t wanna talk to me at the arena... I don’t think.” I fiddled with my promise ring on my left hand as I made the admission. It didn’t even sound like Sid was breathing on the other end of the line.

“You’re telling me he blew you off?” he asked gruffly. I could envision Sidney running a hand over his face before gripping his neat curls atop his dark hair, as he often did when frustrated. I opened my mouth to confirm, but couldn’t actually bring myself to do so, knowing what his reaction would be. I also didn’t want to confess to the commotion I had just heard upstairs, knowing that it would further upset my concerned friend, on my behalf. Instead, I let my silence do the talking.

“Goddammit, Sam,” he growled. “I’m so sorry. He’s young. He- he... I used to do this shit, too,” Sidney admitted with a quick breath. “It’s bullshit. He’s just angry with himself and he’s taking it out on you and it’s not fair. I had hoped I had set a better example about how to deal with these things when they happen... but apparently not.”

A couple of hot tears fell to my face as I responded. “This isn’t your fault, Sid.” He retorted immediately, “Well, it’s sure as hell not yours, either.”

We both sat in contemplation for several moments, neither sure of the next step to take. Then, Sid decided.

“I won’t call him again because he needs to talk to you first. But I am going to text him and urge him that he needs to let you in,” Sid insisted. “He needs to let somebody in,” he repeated. “And it needs to be you first.”

More tears were falling now, and I glanced up at the chandelier overhead and pulled my phone from my ear for a beat to try and settle myself. I wiped at my face with the bottom of my thumb.

“Okay,” I finally whispered. I hadn’t ever really cried around Sid, and while he was one of the nicest and most genuine human beings on the planet, I knew he wasn’t quite accustomed to emotional encounters like this one, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by letting him hear the sobs that were bubbling up in my chest.

“It might not feel like it right now,” Sid broached, speaking in a soothing tone reminiscent of my father’s or brother’s when trying to console me. “But you’re right where you need to be. So is he. He needs you, Sam.”

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

“Sam?” Nate suddenly called out from the balcony above me, his voice not sounding heated, but doleful instead. From where he stood upstairs, he couldn’t see me.

“Was that him?” Sid asked. “Yeah,” I said softly, somewhat in response to both men. “Good. He’s coming around. Trust me. I’ll let you go. Text me later, eh?” Sid requested, sounding slightly relieved. “Yeah, I will. Promise. Thank you. Bye,” I said hurriedly before ending the call.

“Sam?” Nate’s voice echoed off the walls once more, sounding desperate this time. My pulse quickened.

“Yeah. I’m coming,” I said softly. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, took a steadying breath, and turned to walk upstairs and face him.

By the time I arrived on the second floor only a handful of moments later, Nate was already back in our bedroom, seated in the oversized Queen Anne chair near the center of the room, elbows on his knees, chin almost to his chest. I was shocked to hear small sobs escaping his lips. He glanced in my general direction, not meeting my eyes, and cried harder.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Nate finally spoke, somewhat coarsely. My heart seemed to shatter right then, and I felt my body steel in self-defense, preparing for war.

“I can’t even believe how I treated you back there. I’m such an awful fucking human. I’m a monster. I’m so sorry,” Nate added tearfully, catching me off guard.

The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I immediately let out three sobs that seemed to have been lodged in my throat for almost an hour now and, in an instant, closed the gap between us. I dropped to my knees in front of him and laid my head in his lap, hugging his calves. Never before had we shared such an intensely emotional moment. Above me, he covered his eyes with his hands and drew shallow, gasping breaths in an unsuccessful attempt to calm himself.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he cried, not touching me of his own accord. “I’m so sorry.” I picked up my head and looked at him, urgency coursing through my veins. I needed him to come back to me.

“Nathan, baby, hey,” I coaxed, rubbing his big thigh with my hand, which looked so small in comparison. “Look at me. Please? I need you to.”

After a beat, Nate finally lifted his head from his hands, his pale skin slightly splotchy and tinted red, blue eyes shimmering behind more tears that threatened to fall.

“There’s my handsome man,” I said softly, combing my fingers through the neat hair near his ears, watching him slowly return to me.

“Hey, I want you to listen to me, okay? Tonight you’re allowed to cry it out, or punch our pillows, or run on the treadmill all night to blow off some steam. And then I’ll give you a couple more days to swallow this. But after that? We’re gonna check in with Dr. Butler, both of us, so she can give us some ways to cope with this.”

Nate’s shuddering breaths had finally started to slow as I spoke, referencing one of his most trusted allies, the Denver-based sports psychologist he had been seeing now for a few seasons to help him deal with not only hockey-related challenges and mental blocks, but also general anxiety, in order to boost his mental health. I was careful not to allow my tone to come across as if I were babying him, but instead offering comfort and, more importantly, suggesting help. “Because tonight? These last couple weeks? This can’t be it. We can’t deal with things this way. I don’t want you shutting me out, or Sid, or your family, okay? You wouldn’t let me do that — I’m not gonna let you,” I added.

Nate nodded quickly. “Absolutely, babe. I was just gonna say, as soon as I heard you on the phone downstairs, it really just hit me. I realized I needed to text her and set up an appointment,” he told me, his voice no longer shaky. “And that I needed to apologize to you,” he added softly. I nodded, and he grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet and then back down to lie in his lap. I threw my legs over one arm of the chair and settled against his chest.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to find comfort in Nate’s heartbeat for a moment, as he pressed soft kisses into my hair, before I looked around the room, assessing the damage. I noticed that his suit coat lay crumpled in the middle of his closet floor, his shoes having bounced off the wall there as I suspected, and they sat out of place atop his neatly assembled collection of footwear. Across from us, I noticed the source of the shattered glass — a shadow box display from Nate’s unforgettable rookie season hung just slightly crooked on the wall, the glass in the front completely broken out, save for the shards along the inner edge of the frame.

Nate followed my gaze to the mess and sighed. “I’m really sorry about that, Sam,” he said, shame creeping into his tone. I nodded knowingly. “What did you throw?” I asked. “That puck they gave me from the last game of the regular season. It was on my dresser when I set my wallet down and it just set me off,” he admitted sheepishly. “It was stupid.”

“Yes, it was stupid to break something that’s valuable to you, but it’s not stupid, what you’re feeling,” I told him firmly. “Besides, we’ll get a new glass panel and it’ll be good as new.” His grip around me tightened, appreciative of my response. “Thank you,” Nate whispered into my ear. I turned to kiss his lips slowly and deeply. He finally pulled back, only to murmur, “I don’t deserve you. I’m so grateful I have you.” I smoothed my thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m always going to be here for you, Nate,” I promised. He gave me one more solemn kiss.

“Listen, I’m gonna carry you into the bathroom so you don’t even get close to any shards of glass, and I’ll clean all this up while you run us a bath,” Nate told me. “I’ll join you soon. I think it’ll be good for both of us, eh?” I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he easily picked me up bridal-style and headed toward the en suite.

Things were far from perfect, but I was prepared to do everything in my power to get us as close as possible. From the change in his demeanor, I knew Nate was, too.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

Nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes.

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody.

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously.

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before.

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?”

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake.

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation.

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.”

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy.

---

Day 1

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s.

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut.

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank.

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing.

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth.

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side.

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily.

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded.

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.”

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up.

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat.

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door.

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life.

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower.

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand.

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered.

Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away.

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps.

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively.

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?”

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them.

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?”

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him.

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight.

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win.

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it.

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk.

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice.

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos.

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer.

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied.

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign.

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused.

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it.

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck.

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts.

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.”

“Fair.”

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on.

“There’s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours.

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road.

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?”

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby.

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.”

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year.

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room.

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird.

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion.

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said.

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing.

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

Day 3

The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown.

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it.

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison.

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously.

“I liked the long necks.”

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach.

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?”

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?”

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat.

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline.

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan.

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15.

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?”

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.”

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously.

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world.

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game.

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin.

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back.

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them.

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away.

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. “I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his.

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle.

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that.

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches.

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously.

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand.

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?”

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side.

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

Day 4

The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona.

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off.

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim.

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.”

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.”

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.”

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night.

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded.

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky.

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him.

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything.

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #matthew tkachuk #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl writing #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk writing #rat king

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burgers-and-french-fries · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances: Chapter Forty Four.

**TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY**

~postpartum body image issues: mentions of hatred toward stretch marks on belly, breasts and bum/thighs/hips and loose skin on belly. As well as mentioning dark circles under the eyes.

~bodily harm: mentions of daggers causing death and mentions puppet like strings causing physical harm to extremists (arms and legs) in the dream sequence at the beginning of the chapter. This also includes the mention of extremely bloodshot eyes and vigorous shaking.

~dark: mentions of demonic figures/creatures and beings controlling what happens in the dream sequence at the beginning of the chapter.

~fighting: mentions of physical anger (Taron hits a steering wheel and scares Nicola). As well as bickering and taking digs at one another, and what is believed as hinted words at taking a child from her mother.

~foul language: swear/curse words are scattered throughout this chapter.

~sexual: mentions of morning erections and the embarrassment that comes with them. As well as mentioning the sexual tension between Taron and Nicola throughout this chapter. This also includes the insinuation of masterbation.

**IF I HAVE MISSED ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I WILL ADD THE TRIGGER WARNINGS PROMPTLY**

===

(Vision board for the dream sequence)

*DREAM*

The grass was cool and soft under her feet. The breeze was gentle as it tenderly kissed the leaves of the nearby willow trees. The warm incandescence of the fireflies lit up the atmosphere with a romantic glow. One that left Nicola with an ethereal feeling of beauty and confidence. The train of her off white dress trailed behind her as she slowly made her way toward Taron who was waiting for her at the end of the fairy path.

Her eyes locked with Taron’s in a longing glance. She could feel the butterflies begin to take flight within her belly. Her heart rate picked up and the blushing heat radiated on her cheeks. She felt an overwhelming sense of love for the man standing in front of her with a proud smile on his face.

His eyes flitted down as he took in her form. The delicate white dress she wore hugged her in all the right places, giving her body a royal affect. Her hair had been placed in a low bun while a few tendrils softly framed her features. She was the epitome of grace.

“My darling, you have me at a loss for words.” Taron whispered as Nicola finally placed her hand in his. It was at that moment she realized that her left hand was adorned with a sparkling gold ring. Nicola’s eyes once again locked with Taron’s after noticing a ring on his left hand. She coyly smiled at him.

“I could say the same about you.” She teased, hoping it would hide her shock at the discovery of matching rings on their fingers. Nicola let her eyes travel down Taron’s body just as his eyes had done to hers moments prior.

His black silk button up shirt hung somewhat loosely on his body. The top few buttons of his shirt had been left undone, allowing the hair on his chest to peek through. The sleeves had been rolled halfway up his sinewy arms. Everything about him made Nicola want to drool.

“Flatterer.” Taron chuckled. Nicola smirked at him, making him wink at her.

She wanted to reply but no words came to her mind. Instead she slowly leaned in but stopped just before she reached Taron’s lips.

“Dance with me.” Came Taron’s whispered request. Nicola wanted to slap him for interrupting their almost kiss but when his voice sounded so tempting, how could she do that. Nicola let Taron lead her through the gate they were now standing at.

“Only if you let me lead.” Nicola said. Taron shook his head in reply.

“You know the man is supposed to lead.” He pouted. Nicola smiled and laid her head on his chest, listening to the melodious sound of his heartbeat after they came to a stop in a clearing amongst the trees that surrounded them. Together they began to sway to a silent rhythm that only they could hear.

The feel of Taron’s arms around her made Nicola feel the safest she had ever been, especially in the presence of a male. There was just something about him that made her feel like they would always be together, no matter what they would face. He was her world and she was his.

Nothing could separate them…

The moment that Taron playfully spun Nicola around, the atmosphere changed to something that felt heavier. No longer did things feel light and romantic, they felt dark and despairing. It was eerie. Bringing her back into him, neither he nor Nicola had a clue that a dagger had appeared in Nicola’s hand. The only warning they had was when Taron let out a strangled sound as the sharp blade pierced his heart. The colour quickly drained from his face as he stumbled back and collapsed to the ground.

Nicola moved to catch him but she couldn’t as she realized that something was holding her back from him. Like it didn’t want them together. Nicola tried to look for a way to get to him when saw the strings that now appeared to be tied to her extremities, cutting deep into her skin and drawing blood. Off in the distance she could hear an evil cackle of something demonic. She looked above her and saw a freakishly tall figure clad in a long black hooded cloak standing there with contorted features and a sinister smile on its face.

“Let me go!” Nicola demanded. The figure simply let a throaty yet high pitched laugh.

“He’s mine.” It told her. Nicola could feel the chill in her bones as her hair stood on end. It wanted her to suffer and watch Taron die in front of her. What she couldn’t understand was why.

“No. I’ll do anything.” Nicola begged. The creature thought for a second before vanishing as quickly as it came. At its departure, Nicola was free. She bolted to where Taron’s limp body laid.

“Taron please, you can’t leave me.” Nicola begged helplessly as more and more tears clouded her vision. Taron was too weak at this point and stared at her through his extremely bloodshot eyes.

(This is what I picture Taron’s eyes looking like. This is an actual photo of Jeff Petry of the Montreal Canadien hockey team at this years hockey season Stanley Cup playoffs.)

“I’m sorry.” Nicola said as she gripped at his shirt that had now been soaked with his blood. Taron couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and closed them.

“No, don’t. Please!” Nicola all but shouted as she began to shake him vigorously in the hopes that he would wake up. Unfortunately for her, no matter how many times she repeated this action, Taron wouldn’t respond. She didn’t want to let him go, she refused to.

“Come on baby, open your eyes please.” Nicola cried. This was her last attempt and it was no use. He was gone and she couldn’t do anything.

Eventually, Nicola leaned down and pressed her lips to his cold and lifeless ones and said her final goodbyes, despite not wanting to.

“I love you.” She whispered as she broke the kiss.

*END OF DREAM*

Upon waking up from his slumber, Taron realized that he had his arms wrapped securely around Nicola whilst she was clinging onto his vest top as though her life depended on it. Her head resting on the lower part of his chest. He wondered what she could possibly be dreaming about to make her hands grip onto him so tight and intimately. Their close proximity sent his belly flipping with arousal. Despite that, Taron just laid there for a couple more minutes enjoying having Nicola in his arms.

(This is how I kind of pictured the pair laying in bed)

It didn’t take long for Nicola’s light mutterings and slight moans to turn into something more helpless sounding. Though he knew that she was dreaming, the prominent moans coming from her lips did nothing to help his already growing groin.

“Nic?” Taron tried, hoping that she wouldn’t wake up and clobber him for calling her that. When the nickname didn’t work and her grasp tightened on him, he knew he had to remove her hand. He carefully pushed his fingers under her palm and gently pried her hand away from him as though she was glass and he was afraid she’d break any second. Her body wasn’t having it as her fingers wrapped around Taron’s In a desperate attempt to have him close by. To know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Taron swallowed thickly. He knew the situation was going to be awkward now and he prayed that Nicola wouldn’t wake up and he’d have time to get rid of his ‘problem.’ Just as he was about to pull his hand away, Nicola jolted up right and started gasping for air; not realizing where she was or that she had just hit the underside of Taron’s chin, making his teeth clap shut with a blinding force.

“Fuck.” He groaned as he recovered from the sudden blow. He had never seen Nicola like this before and knew her dream must have been that bad for her to not realize that they’d both just been injured.

“Is your head ok?” Taron asked. Nicola looked over her shoulder at him and gave him an annoyed expression.

“You head butted me.” He remarked. Nicola’s face softened and she looked as though she wanted to cry. She really wanted to hug him and remind her body that he was not actually dead.

“Your eyes are normal.” Nicola said with relief as she looked at him. Taron furrowed his brow, while the corner of his mouth raised in confusion.

“Nicola, are you feeling ok?” He asked, genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. She nodded and laid back down with her back facing him in the hopes that he would wrap his arm around her. When he didn’t, she turned to face him again. She needed to see that he was ok.

“Bad dream.” Was all that she said before she closed her eyes to further calm herself and scooted closer to him. Taron was afraid that she’d move too close to him and feel his erection. He breathed a silent breath of relief when she stopped moving and laid still.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, more for his sake and curiosity.

“No but I’m glad you’re ok.” She whispered, feeling more at ease. That was until Taron shifted and nudged her with what she thought was his leg. Taron immediately sat up and visibly cringed.

“What’s wrong?” Nicola questioned with rising concern, wondering if her moving closer to him had been the wrong thing to do.

“Nothing.” He said a little too quickly.

“Something’s obviously wrong, you look pale.” She pointed out. Taron’s eyes subconsciously glanced down at his crotch. Nicola followed his eyes and saw the problem.

“Oh.” She replied simply. Taron looked at her with a grimace.

“Don’t look at it!” He shouted with embarrassment. Nicola snapped her eyes away and tried to look elsewhere. Taron scrambled to get out of the bed while Nicola sat on her side of the bed awkwardly, not knowing what to do with herself now that she knew Taron was aroused. Once the bathroom door had slammed shut, Nicola decided that it might be best if she went elsewhere.

As she made her way to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast, Nicola walked past the small reading nook that sat in the small lounge room. She had never been one for reading but given the circumstance, she hoped it would get her mind off of what had taken place in the bedroom a few minutes beforehand.

Nicola hurriedly went to the kitchen to whip something up before returning to the reading nook. After she had everything made, she walked over to the bookshelf and perused the book selection. Of course most of the books had to be of the romantic genre but amongst those books, Nicola’s eyes landed on a murder mystery book titled ‘One of us is lying.’ Nicola scoffed.

“Yeah, ok.” She muttered to herself as she continued looking through the book collection. Upon further inspection, Nicola finally came across a book on Anglesey. It looked interesting enough to occupy her mind so she pulled it from its place and made her way over to the large reading chair sitting by the window. She sat down, placed her bowl of fruit in her lap and opened the book.

Shortly after starting, Nicola had well and truly given up on reading. Her brain kept whirling with thoughts of why Taron was aroused. Part of her wanted to believe it was because he found her attractive but the rational part of her brain kept telling her that she was nuts for believing that as his reaction clearly showed her that it wasn’t her that had caused the erection and it was simply what his body did in the morning.

“Give me a break.” Nicola grumbled as she put the book down and stomped to the bedroom to get dressed. As she entered the room, she heard music now playing from the bathroom. She let a small smile pull at her lips but when an off key hum flowed above the music, she knew that Taron was having ‘time to himself.’ Nicola felt the awkwardness envelope her once more. Today was not going to be easy. She could feel it in her bones.

Attempting to push all thoughts from her mind, Nicola went over to her bag of clothes to try and find something suitable to wear. Unfortunately the bag sat in front of a floor length mirror. Nicola glanced up and instantly regretted it. What she saw made her cringe. Her hair was wilder than a Lion’s mane, her eyes had little crusties in them, the circles under her eyes made her look like the walking dead. She also realized that her stretch marks were visible. Suddenly she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

‘See, there is nothing about you that would turn him on.’ Her brain told her as she stared at her reflection. She lifted her shirt enough to see the loose skin on her belly. She felt disgusting and like she was worth nothing. Defeated, Nicola plopped down on the bed and put her face in her hands in hopes that it would stop her tears.

(Vision board for what Nicola’s stretchmarks look like and where they sit on her postpartum body.)

A few minutes later, Taron opened the bathroom door -wrapped in a towel- and stopped in his tracks when he noticed Nicola sitting on the bed looking up at him with no expression.

“H-how long have you been there?” He asked, embarrassment once again washing over him.

“What are we doing today?” Nicola questioned, completely ignoring his words. Her mind no longer on him. Taron swallowed and walked over to where he had his clothes.

“What do you want to do?” He asked. Nicola rolled her eyes.

“I’m not playing 20 questions with you.” She snapped as she abruptly stood up and made her way to the bathroom with her towel and toiletries.

“Never said we had to.” He retaliated, now looking at his chest in the mirror. He was seriously regretting shaving his chest hair as it had left a somewhat angry looking rash in its wake.

“We haven’t used the hot tub yet.” Taron called after a few minutes. Nicola’s face paled. The hot tub would mean that she would have to change into her swimmers and with how low she felt this morning, she didn’t want to see herself in it.

“Are you dressed yet?” Nicola replied.

“I have sweats on.” He said. Nicola was satisfied with that answer and walked back out looking a little more presentable.

“That looks painful, you know.” Nicola said as she caught sight of his chest rash. Taron nodded.

“It is.” He responded.

“Do you have anything for it?” She asked. Taron shook his head.

“I’m not sure if I have anything but let me look.” She responded as she went to her hand bag. She chewed her lower lip as she dug through it. Eventually she found a spare travel size tube of Luna’s butt paste. She had heard that nappy cream worked to help soothe razor burn and she was hoping that it would help Taron.

“You want to do it or shall I?” Nicola asked, not realizing that those words may have suggested some other activity all together.

“Would you mind?” He asked. Nicola gave him a smile and moved closer to him. She popped the lid and squeezed some product on her fingers before gently rubbing it into Taron’s chest. The action gave both adults flutters of all sorts and of course making them both aroused with want for each other.

“What is that? It’s kind of thick.” Taron noted out loud. Nicola tried to hide her smirk.

“It’s Luna’s.” She simply replied. Taron rolled his eyes.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.” He mumbled.

“It’s her butt paste.” Nicola replied with a slight chuckle. Taron joined in and laughed. Nicola’s chuckles soon turned into genuine laughter. It was something she desperately needed.

“It does feel so much better. This stuff is magic.” He said, still chuckling a little bit.

“I’m glad.” She replied as she finished rubbing it in. Once it had been absorbed, Nicola looked up at Taron. Big mistake. The atmosphere had shifted around them and they found themselves drawn to each other. Taron’s eyes slowly drifted down to her lips, asking the silent question. Nicola’s head moved on its own accord, giving him permission to lean closer.

The closer he got, the more Nicola’s brain was screaming ‘red alert.’ In an attempt to stop the kiss, Nicola’s eyes fluttered open and that’s when she noticed all the little freckles on Taron’s cheeks. She even noticed just how long his lashes were.

“You have freckles.” Nicola whispered just as his lips were about to meet hers. Taron opened his eyes and moved back.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asked, feeling oddly defensive about them. Nicola shook her head.

“Not at all. I just know I don’t have any and it made me wonder where Luna got her freckles from.” Nicola replied softly. Taron’s heart jumped happily.

“I was always told they were bad luck.” He admitted.

“Who the hell told you that?” Nicola asked, offended for him. Taron had to inwardly smile at her tone. He had never had anyone (besides his mother) tell him otherwise.

“Doesn’t matter.” Taron shrugged. Nicola smiled and moved further away from him, worried that she’d actually kiss him now.

“Well if it’s any consolation, I’ve always wanted them.” She told him. He smiled at her. Oh yeah, he really loved this woman.

“Thank you for the confidence booster.” He said.

“You’re welcome. Now, hot tub?” Nicola asked, ready to get on with the day, even the thought of swimmers freaked her the fuck out.

“Sounds perfect.” Taron replied.

(Vision board for what Nicola’s chosen swimwear looks like)

It may have taken a few minutes but when they were ready, Nicola and Taron made their way to the hot tub area with snacks and drinks in hand. This was something that they both needed and Nicola was really glad that she agreed to sitting in the hot tub in the end. It was absolute heaven for her and never before had she felt this spoiled. She made a mental note to thank the owner of the little beach house for this special treat.

“You’re quiet.” Nicola said without opening her eyes. She was leaning back and letting the jets massage out all the knots she had in her lower back. Taron tore his eyes away from her chest and looked out into the distance, trying to figure out how to ask her the question that was on his mind.

“I’m just enjoying this. It’s nice not having a little boy demand my attention to watch his going under the water skills.” Taron replied. Nicola hummed in agreement.

“It is nice just having time for us.” Nicola said, not thinking how that would sound to Taron.

“Speaking of us, where is your necklace?” He questioned. Nicola’s eyes snapped open. She scrambled to find a believable answer.

“Luna kept pulling on it so I had to take it off.” She replied quicker than she’d hoped. This gave Taron the real answer he needed.

“Right, blame the baby.” He snarked, his tone turning sulky. Nicola looked at him.

“I’m not blaming her.” Nicola defended. Taron ignored her though and kept his pouting face on the sea in the distance.

“Fine, you’re on your own.” Nicola said as stood up and got out, storming back inside the house. Taron had no idea what had hit him, she moved that fast.

He was left sitting there with his thoughts. He felt wounded at the fact she dismissed him and his feelings like that. He hadn’t deserved that. He was only wondering where her necklace had gone.

As soon as she stepped into the house, Nicola stormed to the bathroom where she ripped her swimwear off and jumped into the shower. She knew today was going to be a shitty one and for once she had prayed that she was wrong but once again, she was correct.

“Fucking asshole.” Nicola grumbled to herself. All she wanted to do was relax and enjoy the last day of their trip but oh no, why would Taron allow that. His words of blaming the baby hurt her. She would never blame her girls for anything. Luna had been starting to grab at things especially when she was feeding and for fear of it breaking, Nicola had removed it. Despite her feelings of Taron rushing things, she knew that he had put a lot of work into getting it made for her and she didn’t want it to break in case she one day changed her mind and wanted to wear it.

When she was done with her shower, she got herself dressed in her cozy jammies and went to the kitchen to start making dinner as it was her turn to cook. It was then that Taron decided to walk into the house. He ignored her of course and she was fine with that. Two could play at that game.

Nicola moved about the kitchen with ease as she prepared Taron’s favorite Indian curry she had planned for their last night in Anglesey. She wanted to surprise him with it but now she simply hoped it would make him feel guilty, especially since it was Eve that had shown her how to make it.

“Dinner!” Nicola called as she stood dishing her food up. She had put stuff aside for her as she knew she couldn’t really have anything spicy whilst breastfeeding.

Taron shuffled into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and dished up without a word to her. He was out of the kitchen and back in the bedroom as quickly as he emerged.

“You’re welcome.” Nicola sighed sadly. Well there goes that surprise.

Nicola took her dinner and went to sit outside at the little table, wanting to watch the sun go down for the last time. She had come to fall in love with Anglesey and could see herself living here at some point in her life. Maybe she’d even move out here with the girls.

Nicola had just taken a bite of rice when her phone rang. Nicola picked it up and saw Brenna’s contact picture. She smiled to herself and answered. She felt like she could really use a friend. One that wouldn’t judge her for not doing something they wanted her to.

She and Brenna had a nice conversation. Nicola unloaded everything onto Brenna and felt better for it. She felt heard and appreciated. Like there was nothing she could say that Brenna would crow at and tell her she was stupid for feeling a certain way. Their conversation ended with both women feeling lighter and happier. That was until Nicola walked back inside to see Taron retreating back to the bedroom with a mug in hand.

“None for me? Alrighty then.” Nicola sassed under her breath as she made herself a hot chocolate before going to stretch out on the sofa and watch whatever was on tv since she was alone tonight while trying not to be bothered by the silence from Taron.

She hated to admit it but she missed him. Their last few evenings had consisted of either talking, playing a card/board game or watching tv together. All she really wanted was for Taron to come and join her but if he was going to be stubborn about this and act as though his actions hadn’t contributed to this, then fine, she’d happily play along in his little game of ‘poor me.’ I mean after all, he still hadn’t thanked her for making his favourite dinner and hadn’t offered to make her whatever he had in the mug earlier.

Nicola was pulled from her thoughts when her phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of her. She huffed and lamely reached for her phone.

<<Are you sleeping in here or what?>>

“Bloody coward.” Nicola scoffed to herself as she read Taron’s text.

<<show isn’t done.>> Nicola replied, knowing full well that she too was hiding behind the phone. Nicola put her device down and went back to absentmindedly watching tv.

Sometime during the show she was watching and the next show, she must have fallen asleep because the next morning, Nicola woke up with a blanket fully covering her body. She hadn’t remembered cocooning herself in such a nice warm blanket which could only mean that Taron must have gotten up during the night and covered her. Shit that man was confusing the hell out of her. One minute he was cold, distant, pouty and mad; and the next minute he was the sweetest, kindest, most caring and loving man she had ever met. Talk about bipolar.

“What time is it?” Nicola asked as Taron walked past her with a couple bags in his hands.

“Time to go.” He replied shortly.

“Not what I asked.” Nicola snapped, removing the blanket and going to pack her things since lord butt face was in such a hurry to leave. Maybe he felt the same as her and couldn’t wait to see the kids.

Rushing to get her things packed up, Nicola chose to stay in her jammies. When she felt like she had everything packed, Nicola did the once over and made sure that nothing had been missed.

Satisfied with how their holiday house appeared, Nicola went out to the car to see Taron already in the driver’s seat angrily scrolling through his phone.

“Finally ready?” He snapped, not bothering to look up and acknowledge her. Nicola frowned at him.

“Hey. You could have woken me sooner.” She snapped back.

“Whatever.” Taron replied as he turned his phone off and started the car, waiting for Nicola to get in and buckle up.

When she was in the car, she was sure to slam the door shut to show him how pissed off she was at his attitude.

“You’ll break the car.” Taron slightly seethed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Nicola rolled her eyes.

“Oh no, your precious car. Not like you don’t have money to fix it.” Nicola sassed with a hidden smirk and her brows raised in challenge.

“Knock it off.” Taron said, this time slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. Nicola jumped and immediately wanted to cry. She hated when people got physically angry. It scared her to no end.

Instead of replying, Nicola stared out her window at the passing scenery.

Now that they had been on the road for about fifteen minutes with nothing but Taron’s music playing through the speakers, Nicola decided that now would be a good time to close her eyes and at least pretend to sleep so that Taron didn’t get it in his head that it would be a good time to bitch some more about the stupid necklace. She had had enough of talking about shit that was happening between them as just once she wished they could get along enough to have time together where they weren’t bickering about something benign and pointless.

A couple hours later, Taron and Nicola finally arrived home. Nicola was beyond excited at this point to see her girls and hear all about their time with Tina, Guy and the other three children. She was also excited to see them because at least she knew she’d get happy chatter out of them and she wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

“I’ll send them out then shall I?” Taron remarked as Nicola got out of his car, grabbed her bags and walked toward her car to put her belongings in the back end. Nicola rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. There was no point.

Taron walked into the house and was greeted by Jasmine and Mikey running up to him with a jar of money they had collected so that he could buy a new laptop and replace the one they wrecked.

“Hi daddy, look it.” Mikey said as he handed Taron the jar. Taron painted on a smile.

“Where did this come from?” Taron asked, even if he already knew the answer.

“We helped clean.” Jasmine answered. Mikey nodded in agreement.

“They were such good helpers.” Guy said as he joined the trio in the entryway.

“We touched worms.” Mikey announced, still grimacing at the thought of it.

“I’m proud of you both. Thank you.” Taron said, crouching down so he could hug them both.

“Where’s Nicola?” Guy asked.

“She’s outside packing her car.” Taron replied, trying not to let the anger flash in his eyes but of course with being a parent, Guy was able to recognize the emotion right away. He gave his step son a pat on the shoulder.

“Your mam’s made a Shepherd's pie big enough to feed the whole of Aber. Why don’t you and Nicola stay for a while.

“Don’t want to spoil your New Years. Mikey and I can order a pizza or something.” Taron replied. Guy nodded.

“Long journey?” Guy asked. Taron pulled a face at him.

“Don’t get me started.” Taron said lowly, hoping that the kids didn’t pick up the annoyance in his voice.

“Beer?” Guy offered.

“Brilliant but first, where’s my Luna bug?” Taron questioned, desperately needing to see his daughter’s smiling face.

“She’s up stairs getting her nappy changed.” Guy told him. Taron nodded.

“I’ll take Jasmine out, are her things ready?” Taron asked. Guy nodded and pointed to the door.

“Everything is by the door.” Guy said. Taron gave him a short smile.

“Right, you two say goodbye.” Taron instructed his son and his friend.

Mikey and Jasmine threw their arms around each other dramatically and giggled. They had so much fun together and as much as they were sad to say goodbye, they were both glad that they didn’t have to help with the bugs anymore.

“Are they here yet?” Tina called to her husband as she descended the stairs.

“Hi mam.” Taron greeted as she came into view.

“Did you have a nice time away?” She asked innocently. Taron ignored the question and held his hands out for his daughter.

“This little lady certainly missed her mammy.” Tina said unknowingly pissing her son off even more.

“Daddy missed you so much.” Taron cooed with a hint of a warning tone toward his mother as he kissed Luna’s cheeks, earning him a beaming smile as she couldn’t laugh just yet.

Tina looked at her husband for answers but he had no clue what really happened.

“You better go and hand them over.” Guy spoke up. Taron frowned but continued kissing Luna’s cheeks. He’d never get enough of her. She was just so stinking perfect and just what his heart needed. Her and her brother.

“I suppose so.” Taron said, walking toward the front door. Jasmine followed behind him as Mikey helped to carry her pillow.

“Lina. I missed you.” Jasmine hollered excitedly as she ran toward her sister, throwing her arms around her legs. Nicola smiled genuinely for the first time that day.

“I’m glad to see that someone is happy to be in my presence.” Nicola said, taking a dig at Taron. He rolled his eyes and opened Luna’s car door and placed her in her car seat. Nicola doing the same for Jasmine. Thankfully Mikey had now run back inside after giving Jasmine one last hug and saying a final goodbye.

“I could say the same thing.” Taron said, smiling brightly at Luna. At this, Jasmine knew something was up. She knew her sister and Taron liked to fight but this was just weird.

“Are you guys sick?” Jasmine asked, seeing their facial expressions.

“Nope but thank you for asking to make sure.” Nicola said taking another shot at Taron, insinuating that Taron hadn’t bothered to ask her what was going on like a normal adult would.

“When can I see my daughter next?” Taron questioned once Luna was safely buckled into her car seat. He made sure to really emphasize the word ‘my.’ Nicola looked at him and if looks could kill, he’d be more than six feet under. Luna was her daughter, not his.

Nicola shut Jasmine’s door at the same time Taron shut Luna’s.

“It’s ok, they do this all the time.” Jasmine told her niece as she passed Luna her little toy giraffe.

Taron followed Nicola to her side of the car and blocked her from getting in

“My main priority right now is taking my girls home. Now move.” She snapped, putting strong emphasis on ‘my girls’ the way he had done when referring to Luna. She opened the car door, and got into the vehicle. She didn’t care that she had hit Taron. He deserved it. How dare he think that he can lay claim on Luna now. Bastard had another thing coming.

Nicola sped off soon after and headed for home.

Taron stormed into his mam’s house and sat himself on the kitchen where Guy had left Taron a beer and where Tina was now helping Mikey build a lego tower. Both Mari and Rosie being at a sleepover.

“Mikey, why don’t you see where grandpa’s gone and then make sure grandpa has pickles ready to go home.” Tina suggested. Mikey nodded and climbed down from his chair before running off to find Guy.

“Park your ass right here and tell me what you’re mad at this time.” Tina instructed.

“I’m fine.” Taron replied, trying to skirt the issue. Tina gave him the ‘look.’

“Now.” She ordered sternly. Taron knew never to disobey that tone of voice so he sat down but frowned at her.

“Nicola.” Replied shortly. Tina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What have you done to that poor girl now?” Tina asked.

“Poor girl? What am I, chopped liver?” Taron barked. Tina stared at her son.

“Every time you are upset with Nicola, your actions seem to be at the center of it. So yes, what have YOU done to that poor girl now?” Tina asked again. Taron took a long drink of his beer.

“She took her necklace off.” He grumbled finally. Tina was gobsmacked at this.

“That’s why you’re so mad? Boy you have your head so far up your ass.” Tina spoke, shocking Taron.

“Excuse me?!” He exclaimed, pointing at himself.

“Taron, this isn’t some movie fantasyland. This is real life. You have probably scared the living shit out of Nicola by giving her that necklace.” Tina explained. Taron sat reluctantly listening to his mam’s words.

“I know this is real life.” He muttered as though he were a child.

“Obviously not if you think that rushing things is going to help get you further with Nicola.” Tina said.

“May I remind you that she planned the weekend away, not me.” Taron defended. Tina shook her head.

“That’s not the point. The point is that you have to understand where she is coming from. She grew up in a less than ideal home with parents that she hardly knew, in situations that are not suitable for a child. Now she’s having to raise her sister and deal with lord knows what behind closed doors. The last thing she needs is someone pushing her to deal with a life that she isn’t ready to live yet or at all.” Tina began.

“Have you ever considered her feelings with all that you push toward and throw at her?” The mother asked. Taron had to admit it. His mam was right, he hadn’t bothered to talk to Nicola about anything. He had assumed that he and Nicola were always on the same page.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.” Tina said with a softer tone. Taron looked at her with an emotion she’d never seen before.

“What else did you do to make her upset?” Tina asked, reaching across the table to pat his hand.

“I sassed her when she told me she removed the necklace because of Luna grabbing things. Then outside today, I asked her when I could see my daughter next but I may have put emphasis on the word ‘my.’” Taron answered. Tina hung her head.

“Oh Taron, you ninny.” Tina groaned. Taron scoffed.

“Gee thanks.” He sassed. Tina looked up at him.

“I don’t blame her for being mad. If your father told me that when you were Luna’s age, so help me god I would clobber him if it meant I could keep you with me.” Tina told him.

“Meaning?” Taron questioned.

“By saying what you did, it sounds like your threatening to take Luna from her which is why her back is up even more. She’s in mama bear mode and ready to fight.” Tina responded. Taron’s heart dropped. He didn’t want Nicola to think that he’d take Luna from her. He could see how much Luna and Jasmine meant to her. Hell, he’d get his back up if someone said the same thing about Mikey.

“Tell me how to fix it.” Taron begged, his stubbornness slipping away.

“Go to London with Mikey and let everything settle down.” Tina replied.

“There has to be something.” He said. Tina shook her head,

“I am dead serious, leave her be. She needs time to cool off and so do you. When you get back from London, then you can both sit down and talk but until then, I will ring your neck if you do anything.” Tina warned him, pointing at him.

“How will I know when she’s ready to listen to what I have to say though?” He asked, still hoping that his mam would cave and let him go to Nicola now.

“Taron, when the time is right, you will know. Believe me though, now is not the time.” She replied, really making sure he understood that she’d kill him if he did anything rash.

===

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#taking chances #its just pickles #dad!taron #taronegerton #taronegertonxreader #taronegertonsmut #taronegertonimagines #taronegertonfanfic #taron egerton fanfiction

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everwitch-magiks · 4 years

Text

dance with somebody (ch. 25)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 24

"Oh lord," Bitty whispers to himself. "Oh my goodness."

How long has it been, since the first time he stood in front of the Samwell hockey Haus with a pie in hand, just like this? Four and a half years? No, even longer. Goodness gracious.

He's been able to visit from time to time, since graduation. Providence is close, after all, and the Samwell team will always hold such a dear place in Bitty's heart. It's just, usually, he's come down to watch a game, and always together with Jack. They've stopped by the Haus, of course, have made their rounds and tried to catch up with everyone. Besides, it's not like they don't see many SMH members, former and current, at various other social occasions every so often.

But it's just… Bitty loves coming back to Samwell with Jack, loves reconnecting with their important people and places together. Yet even so, Bitty's relationship with his former teammates isn't quite the same, with Jack added to the equation. Not that going back to the Haus with Jack is bad, or uncomfortable, or anything in between. Not at all. It's just…

Senior year, Bitty became captain. The boys all chose him. Stepping into that role, and leading them through that grueling season, through those excruciating, exhilarating, endless playoffs all the way to actual championship victory, is something that still means more than Bitty can put into words. It was everything. And Jack was there for all of it, yes, he supported Bitty through all of it – without Jack, Bitty isn't sure if he would've held himself together until the end. But while Jack was there, he wasn't there. It wasn't his team.

It was Bitty's.

It's not something that Bitty thinks of as a good thing or a bad thing. It's just the truth. And it probably says something that, when Bitty had hesitantly told Jack that he'd been thinking about making a visit to Samwell on his own, Jack had been completely unsurprised. In fact, Jack's smile had been so knowing, he'd almost looked a little bit smug.

"Of course, Bits. You tell your boys hello from me. Don't spoil them with too much pie, eh?"

Bitty adjusts his bowtie, a little wearily. Gosh. He's actually nervous, isn't he? He has literally no reason to be. It's just the boys, his boys. His home away from home. They'll be happy to see him. Won't they?

Maybe turning up unannounced was a bad plan.

"Bits?"

Bitty almost jumps, he's so startled.

Thankfully, it's just Dex.

"Morning!" Bitty tries for cheerful. It almost works. "I was in the neighbourhood, so. Thought I'd pop by for a bit."

"It's so good to see you, man." Dex is grinning widely as he goes in for a hug. Bitty somehow manages to balance his pie and wrap one arm around Dex, simultaneously. "How long can you stay?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose too much, I'm sure y'all are swamped with homework and practice and-"

"Don't be an idiot. Everyone's gonna be so psyched to see you." Dex's grin softens. "Actually, today, we're-"

"Bitty!"

"Holy shit, Bits!"

"Pie!"

Bitty can't help his smile as Nursey, Tango and Hops tumble out of the Haus. It's debatable, whether or not Nursey has actually managed to put shoes on.

"Careful," Dex mutters as he swiftly takes the pie out of Bitty's hands. "Got your back, there you go."

It's just in time before Bitty is engulfed in something that feels so much like a celly, his heart actually aches.

"Goodness, I've missed y'all." Bitty smiles helplessly. "My, Hops, were you always this tall?"

"Probably," Hops says. He grins widely. "Maybe you just got tinier? Even more itty-bitty."

"Hey, now!" Bitty exclaims. He's grinning, too. Somehow, he has a feeling he'll be doing little else, today. "I'll have you know I'm a perfectly respectable height, Jonathan."

"Come on!" Tango is literally tugging at Bitty's arm in excitement. "This is such perfect timing, we were just-"

"Holy shit. Isn't that Bitty? Hey, everyone, Bitty's here!"

There's the unmistakable sound of a hoard of hockey players sprinting down several flights of stairs, and that's only the calm before the storm.

It takes well over half an hour before Bitty actually makes it inside the Haus.

His heart feels pleasantly warm as he steps into the familiar kitchen. Dex has set his pie to the side of a counter, his aunt’s old curtains are still hanging in the window and someone has managed to keep those plants on the windowsill alive. There's even a couple of succulents that Bitty doesn't quite recognise. Evidently, Bitty's housekeeping ambitions are actually being honored.

Most importantly, though, the kitchen is absolutely bustling with activity.

"We're having a deluxe team breakfast," Chowder is telling him enthusiastically. "Or, well, sort of a team brunch. Except, it's more brunch and lunch, really-"

"And snacks!" someone chimes in. It takes Bitty a second to remember his name – Joseph Lyons, one of the so-called Scones. Bitty has met all of the freshmen before, and he's tried his best to be his usual, charming self and make an approachable impression, but there's certainly something of an endearing flush on the boy's cheeks as he speaks directly to Bitty. "We're actually making baked potato bites, soon as Whiskey's done with the oven. I hope you'll like them!"

"Oh, that's exciting! I'm sure they'll be delicious."

Bitty offers Joseph a somewhat distracted smile. Whiskey? The oven?

He looks further into the kitchen, and… Yes. There's Whiskey. He's mixing something in a bowl, and listening to a boy next to him. A boy who is prattling on about something as he chops vegetables, his brown eyes bright with excitement.

A decidedly unfamiliar boy.

"Hey, Ocean," Nursey says – the boy looks up. "Can I borrow that knife, when you're done?"

"Do we want Derek Nurse with a sharp object in hand?" Ocean asks, just a bit too loudly. He grins as the kitchen at large provides a good round of chirps in agreement. "How about you hand me those tomatoes, Nursey, and I'll take care of them for you."

Bitty watches the boy for a moment longer, his brows slightly furrowed. Ocean seems to fit in quite seamlessly. Did he recently transfer from another school? Or did Bitty somehow actually manage to forget a Scone?

"Hey. Bits."

Whiskey has looked up. For some reason, he's watching Bitty with a certain level of apprehension. Bitty quickly offers him a bright smile.

"It's good to see you," he offers, because it truthfully is. "Jack says hello, by the way."

Whiskey smiles, too.

"Tell him I said hi. I hope you're finding the Haus in a decent enough state?"

"Oh, you best be taking special care of my old room, too," Bitty chirps good-naturedly. "I hope it's to your liking, and all?"

"For sure. You can head up and take a look, if you'd like that trip down memory lane." Whiskey's suggestion sounds surprisingly sincere. "You know the way. Door's unlocked."

"Oh," Bitty says. It hasn't been on his list, exactly, but now that it's being offered… "You know, I'll actually take you up on that."

Whiskey nods towards him, once, before returning his attention to his bowl.

Stepping into his old room feels more than a little bit surreal. It's familiar, of course, but also very different. Whiskey clearly keeps it quite neat – the bed's been made, and it's not too cluttered, overall. There's a Samwell banner pinned to the wall and two eye-catchingly colorful yet discreetly minimalist posters above the desk. It all fits in well with how Bitty remembers Whiskey, on and off the ice – here lives someone with a good amount of discipline, and a simultaneous desire to stand out, and fit in.

On the desk, there's a framed picture of the team from last year's championship victory that Bitty can't look at without getting a lil’ teary eyed. He directs his attention out the window, instead. Unsurprisingly, the view is just the same as ever.

"Changed the decor a bit."

Bitty looks over his shoulder. Whiskey is leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. There's a bit of flour dusted over his sweater in a way that Bitty has no idea how to chirp him for. His expression is almost entirely unreadable.

"It's nice," Bitty tells him carefully. Gosh. This shouldn't be so frightfully awkward. "You look well, Whiskey."

"I'm doing alright." Whiskey steps a bit further inside the room. "Actually, I'm doing better."

"Oh." Bitty tries to smile. Is he supposed to offer a follow-up question? Is this a heart to heart, or small talk? "That's… That's nice to hear."

"Excuse me, sorry." Suddenly, unexpectedly, that boy from before pops in. Ocean. He goes straight for a backpack that's sitting on the chair by the desk. "Just need my charger. I'll get out of your way."

"No, wait," Whiskey says quickly.

The boy stills. There's a moment of eye contact between the two of them that Bitty can't seem to interpret.

"You two should meet."

Whiskey turns back towards Bitty. Slowly, and very deliberately, he places an arm around the other boy's waist.

"Bitty, this is Miguel."

Oh, sweet Mary.

Bitty looks between the two boys, blinking slowly. Of course. Of course.

"Hello." Evidently, Miguel has taken it upon himself to fill out the silence. His smile is, quite frankly, lovely. "Eric Bittle, right? I've heard so much about you."

"Oh, sugar, it's wonderful to meet you." Bitty has recovered enough to extend a hand. He's beaming, and it's probably ridiculous, but he can't quite bring himself to care. "My goodness. Hi. Are you a junior?"

"That's right." Miguel seems to take his enthusiasm in stride. He gamely shakes Bitty's hand. "Me and Whiskey had a class together, this fall."

"And now I can barely get you alone for a minute, given how the whole Haus has collectively adopted you." Whiskey doesn't sound at all bothered by this turn of events. He's got his hands back in his pockets, and he looks quite a bit more relaxed than before Miguel came in. "The Waffles are literally going to all of your games."

"Well, so are you," Miguel says, with a fond smile towards Whiskey. He quickly turns back to Bitty, though. "I'm on the water polo team."

"Isn't that something," Bitty says. And then it clicks. "Oh. Ocean, right?"

"Right." Miguel grins. "We don't really do nicknames in water polo, at least not the same way you lot insist upon, but it's actually-"

"Hey, Ocean!"

There's someone in the doorway. It's… A Scone. One of the Scones. Bitty really must try to visit more often. The Scone looks between the three of them, his expression mildly confused, before he states his business.

"Joyo and Jader need your advice on their potato-ricotta experiment."

"I'll be right there."

Miguel glances at Whiskey for a second, and there's another moment of silent communication. Then Whiskey nods.

Miguel offers Bitty another smile.

"I'm sure we'll have the chance to talk some more, but I believe I really must see to those potatoes.”

His hand touches Whiskey's briefly on his way out. Bitty would never have noticed, unless he'd known to look for it.

Unexpectedly, Whiskey closes the door behind Miguel. He turns back towards Bitty.

For a second, they just look at one another.

"He, uh." Suddenly, Whiskey seems flustered. "He's great. So great."

"I'm glad." Bitty has rarely meant something so much in his entire life. "Am I right to assume that the team doesn't know?"

"That's right." Whiskey actually looks a bit apprehensive. "We don't… I'm not out to my family. Or to many of my friends."

"I'm just so happy that you're happy." Bitty smiles. "And, can I… He's kind of unfairly pretty, isn't he?"

Bitty would never have guessed that Whiskey could smile so gently.

"Yeah. Honestly, he's kind of everything."

"Oh, Connor." Bitty wants to hug him. That would probably be a little much. "Aren't y'all just too sweet."

"I would, um." Whiskey hesitates. He starts over. "Could you not tell Jack?"

Oh.

Bitty feels surprised. And, surprisingly, just a little bit pleased. It's been somewhat unsettling, figuring out bits and pieces of Whiskey's current life through Jack, watching the two of them connect in a way that Bitty was never able to no matter how hard he tried. Still, he's grateful to Jack for trying to help Whiskey, and even more grateful to him for succeeding. Really, he is.

But it's honestly nice to know that Whiskey trusts him with this. To know that, when it comes to this, Whiskey actually trusts him more. Maybe it shouldn't matter, but if Bitty is completely honest with himself, it does.

"Of course." Bitty smiles. "Honestly, I'm so happy you even wanted me to know."

"I did. I really did." Whiskey runs a hand through his hair. "Bits, you… You must know that I have a lot of respect for you."

Bitty stares at Whiskey. He looks so earnest, and there's a depth to his words that Bitty already knows he will always remember. It's one of those moments in life.

"Thank you," Bitty says warmly. "You know, I've never wanted to make you feel like you need to make choices that aren’t right for you. That you’re not comfortable with."

"No, I know." Whiskey shakes his head. "You haven't made me feel that way. I've struggled with this for a lot of other reasons, I guess. The narrative is always about coming out."

"It is. And that's something I've certainly contributed to."

Whiskey actually smiles.

"Sure. But more than that, you've… I've been in this sport for years. And with everything that's happened with you, and with Jack, it's… There's a before and an after. Things are better."

"Oh. That's… Oh." Gosh, Bitty might actually be tearing up a little. When, exactly, did Whiskey grow up so much? "I'm so glad you think so."

"I believe it goes a little beyond my personal opinion," Whiskey says plainly. He's still smiling. It is, quite frankly, unsettling. "Should we, um. I think the Scones might die a little if you helped them with those potatoes. In a good way."

"Oh, I'd love to cook with those sweet boys." Bitty manages a slight grin. "You know… I almost thought Miguel was a Scone, too. Your boy's not really built for hockey, but he just fits in so well, I didn't know what to make of him."

"You sure you wanna talk about being built for hockey?" Whiskey chirps. He sounds almost playful. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Hey, now," Bitty admonishes cheerfully. "What happened to having lots of respect for me? Let's go back to that."

"Why don't we go back to the kitchen, instead?" Whiskey suggests. "I kind of need to check on the oven."

"Of course," Bitty agrees quickly. Obviously, the oven needs to take priority. "Is there, um, any chance you could remind me which Scone is Jader? I think I know, but…"

"Jaden Brant," Whiskey supplies readily. "Tall one. In your defense, he's pretty much joined at the hip with Joyo."

"He is, isn't he? Those two…?"

Whiskey smiles.

"Yeah. Those two." He looks away for a moment. "And that's… They're coming in as freshmen, immediately knowing they'll be accepted. No hesitation."

"That's so wonderful."

Whiskey looks at Bitty again.

"You did that," he says simply. "You know that, right?"

"No, I'm…" Dear lord, he's going to cry again. "Their decision to be open can't be only because of little ol' me. It can’t.”

"Maybe not only," Whiskey concedes. "But they chose Samwell for a reason. They knew they'd be safe here."

"Well. That is nice." Bitty wipes at his eyes. "Dear me, I'm… We should… Oven?"

Whiskey nods. His expression is soft in a way that Bitty can't quite put into words.

"Come on. There are literal and figurative scones to attend to."

As they're leaving the room, Bitty feels brave enough for one final, careful question.

"You actually bake?"

"I know," Whiskey says. He sounds… Relaxed. Content, even. "It's not bad. Feels like I'm doing something nice for everyone. You know?"

"Yes," Bitty agrees eagerly. This day is already turning into so much more than he could ever have hoped for. "Believe me, Whiskey. I know."

ch. 26

#check please #omgcheckplease #omgcp #eric bittle #connor whisk #OC: Miguel #all of the scones #literal and figurative #we're really really really nearing the end #there's only one update left #I've been writing this since March it is now December I have a lot of feelings about this #I hope you'll enjoy this and the next part ♡#dance with somebody #evie writes #fanfiction

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imaginingsoftly · 4 years

Text

4 Times You Cooked, and 1 Time He Did - Kevin Hayes

Type: friends to lovers, Y/N insert shorts, 4 + 1 story

Requested: No

Warnings: swearing

(Y/N = Your name)

1. The day we met

Your hand was curled into a loose fist, ready to knock on the door in front of you. Your new neighbors had moved in the day before, and, from the sounds coming from the apartment as the move-in occurred, it was a group of very rowdy boys. That meant you made cookies as a welcome, hoping that it would butter them up so they’d be a little nicer if you needed them to quiet down in the middle of the night. Of course, in order to drop off the cookies and say hello you needed to actually knock on the door and introduce yourself. So far the shyness was winning on that front.

Just as you finally steeled yourself to knock, drawing in a deep breath in the process, the door you were standing in front of opened suddenly. You stepped backwards in shock, stumbling slightly. An incredibly kind-looking face stared down at you in surprise as a hand shot out to grip your elbow. “Sorry, I-”, “Shit, are you-” You and your neighbor stared at each other in silence as you both spoke at the same time. Your neighbor smiled, nodding his head at you. “Go ahead.”

Well this wasn’t how you wanted the conversation to go at all. “Sorry. I’m Y/N. I’m your new neighbor.” You gestured at your apartment door, maybe a little needlessly, as you were the only other door on this part of the hallway. “I just wanted to introduce myself, and welcome you to the building.” The guy looked at you seriously as you spoke, like what you said was the most important thing on the planet. He was cute, in a friendly kind of way. He also looked familiar, though for the life of you it was impossible to figure out why.

“And you brought cookies?” He smiled down at you when you nodded slowly. “I’m Kevin. If these cookies are as good as they smell, I think I’m going to be happy I chose to get an apartment instead of a house.” He chuckled lightly at his own joke, and you smiled gently at him. Kevin. It was a fitting name for him. He let go of your elbow suddenly, like he just realized he was still holding it. Honestly, you had forgotten as well. “I’m sorry to meet you and run, but I’m unfortunately late to a meeting. Thanks for coming by though!” You started to back out of his doorway when you remembered the cookies. “Here,” you said as you held the plate out, “these are for you. Welcome to the building!” Kevin stared after you for a couple of seconds as you backed away before responding quickly. “Thanks, Y/N. It was nice to meet you.” His smile followed you into the apartment and stayed in your thoughts for hours after the meeting.

You worked through dinner to try and get ready for the upcoming playoff push. As a marketing manager for the Phillies, the playoffs were your favorite part of the season. It was a time where you could change up the content from your usual stuff, and this year’s playoff ad video was going to be great. One of your summer interns had come up with the idea of using fan videos of some of the highlights of the season to create a mashup, and the video her and the rest of the crew had designed was coming out beautifully. The slogan was going to have something to do with the fans being another part of the team. You watched the video over again and marveled at how well it had come out. The intern needed to become a full hire after this season.

A knock at your door made you jump, though when you opened it there was no one. Your plate, however, sat on the floor outside with a sticky note attached. Thanks for the cookies, it read, my teammates really enjoyed them. I barely got to eat one. The handwriting was slightly messy, clearly boys handwriting. You smiled at the note, and then at the door across the hall from you. It would appear you had a new friend.

2. Dinner and a show

“You know,” Kevin said as he walked through your front door, “I think you’re going to get me cut from the team if you keep feeding me cookies.” He said that with a mouth full of cookie so you took it with a grain of salt, rolling your eyes at him from your position in front of the crock pot. He looked good, dressed in his game day suit, though the tie sticking out of his pocket and the curls still damp from the shower ruined the effect a little bit. These nighttime dinners had become something of a tradition over the last couple of months, after Kevin had come home from a preseason game right as you were returning from a playoff game. You’d ended up sprawled on his couch with a pizza between the two of you, and a tradition was born. Tonight it was tacos, and the steak you had slow-cooked while you were in the office getting ready for the upcoming winter meetings made the entire apartment smell like what you pictured heaven to be.

Kevin dropped onto one of your counter top stools with a heavy sigh, and you slid a beer across to him along with an ice pack. He took the beer thankfully, but then raised an eyebrow at the ice pack. “I saw the hit,” you said as a means of explanation. “I turned the game on when I got back from work. Ice your face so I don’t have to look a black eye for the rest of the week.” Kevin raised his middle finger at you, but did as you asked. Your time together had become a nice way to wind down after your work and game days. Both of you spent so much time in the chaos of professional sports that sometimes it was nice to just slow down and enjoy a meal with someone that understood why you sometimes wanted to sit and eat your meal in silence. Kevin understood that more than you had ever expected. Accurate to your first impression, Kevin and the boys could get extraordinarily loud at times. He was the loudest person in the room, minus when he was with his shorter friend that fought so much, Travis something, but he could also be so quiet on these nights.

The tacos were delicious, and Kevin ate his body weight in home cooking like usual. It wasn’t that he was incompetent in the kitchen; you’d seen him cook pasta and a few other basic things, but he wasn’t one for just throwing something together unless he’d made it a thousand times before. “You know, I think I’m going to have to keep you around just for how well you cook.” You rolled your eyes, like you always did, but you also couldn’t ignore the tug in your chest that your heart gave when he said he would keep you around. Joke or not, you were becoming pretty attached to Kevin. He was sweet, and goofy in an awkward and not at all athlete-like way. Couple the awkwardness with the math skills and you would peg him for a math professor, not a hockey player. “So,” Kevin began, talking around chunks of yet another cookie, “how was work? Did you revolutionize baseball today?”

You laughed out loud at the thought. Like offseason meetings were ever that exciting. “Planning for contract announcements, actually. I wanted to have the guys returning or just signing on make a little video either thanking the fans for their continued support or introducing themselves, depending on where they played last year, but everyone vetoed it.” You rolled your eyes at the memory. Greg, who thought he should have gotten your job despite your better qualifications, very loudly made his dissent clear. In the end, everyone else followed suit.

Kevin, thankfully, was on your side. “I would have loved something like that! Especially for the new guys; you’ve gotta get the fans on your side before they have time to hate you.” You chuckled at his statement, even as you nodded in agreement. Getting Kevin amped up about any subject was your favorite thing to do. His accent wasn’t always clear, but times like now the Boston really came out.

“Thanks for the support, Kev. It’s nice to know at least somebody is on my side.” He leaned over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, and you only had one thought: you were in deep trouble.

3. The one where you made his date dinner

Kevin’s voice was frantic as he threw pots and pans around his kitchen, smoking something sitting black in the sink. “Y/N, please! I need help! She’s gonna be here soon, what do I do?” The panic was new, and you swallowed to joke that almost came out of your mouth in response. He really did look stressed, and the hair you knew he had meticulously styled was now running wild around his temples in frizzy curls. He stared down helplessly at what you thought was supposed to be spaghetti. You sighed, walking over to stand in front of him.

“We’ll make something else.” Kevin’s face still looked panicked, and you reached up to grab his face with both hands. “Kev. It’s gonna be okay.” He nodded. You smiled slightly, and he smiled back. “I’m going to go get a couple of things from my kitchen. Get out a couple of beers, trim the chicken, and I’ll be right back.” You patted his cheek gently and hurried out of the apartment. Hopefully you would be able to get rid of the smell before she got there. Kevin had a date, a girl he’d been dating for a few months, and you had shown up with the flowers he forgot to buy right as the pan of burnt spaghetti went into the sink. You were still trying to figure out how in the hell a box of spaghetti had turned into the black brick sitting in his pot, but that was a question for another time.

With minimal time and a general lack of great ingredients, you settled on beer-battered chicken and a salad. Thankfully you’d gone to the farmer’s market that morning, and had made Kevin go with you. There were tons of fresh vegetables sitting on his counter that would now get some good use. The only thing you needed from your apartment were cashews and some flour, which you grabbed before hurrying back across the hall again. Kevin was still panicking, though slightly less so, and the chicken was almost ready for the batter. You shouldered Kevin out of the way, throwing the beer, flour, eggs, and a couple of other ingredients into a bowl. Kevin hovered over your shoulder anxiously, at least until you elbowed him in the ribs. “Back up, Kev, I promise I’ve got your back.” He sighed, and finally sat on the counter out of your way.

He didn’t speak until you threw the chicken into a pan of oil, and even then he spoke so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. “Thanks for always having my back, Y/N.” You smiled over at him, though the chicken spitting oil quickly grabbed your attention again. The past year and a half had been nice. Kevin’s exodus from Philly for the summer came right around the time that the Phillies occupied most of your time and visits with Kevin were limited to late night meals, especially as he and the girl started dating. Kelsey, maybe? Or Karly? You hadn’t actually met; honestly, you weren’t sure she’d met any of his teammates either. It was weird no one had really met her yet, especially for a relationship that had lasted for at least two months. “Spring training is soon, right? When do you leave for Florida?”

“In a week. When do you guys play in Tampa?” He answered the week after next, and you nodded. You had gone to their game in Tampa the year before when it fell during spring training, and it looked like you would be doing so again. The chicken was finally finished, and you threw together a small warm salad with a fresh cashew Caesar dressing. The plates looked good, and Kevin was already washing the dishes when you turned around. “I can get these, Kev, go fix up your hair.”

He turned around teasingly, flicking water in your general direction. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” You shrugged. He raised an eyebrow, and you were saved from a response by the sound of knocking at his door. Kevin quickly dried his hands, and you gathered your flour container. Kelsey/Karly stopped short when she saw you in Kevin’s kitchen, and you held out your free hand with a smile. “I’m Y/N, I live across the hall. it’s nice to meet you.” She raised an eyebrow like she was unimpressed, and your hand dropped to your side slowly. Her next words told you enough about what kind of person she was. “Why the fuck are you here?” So she was going be like that, then. Kevin stood behind her awkwardly, and you hurried towards the door before it got any more weird. He held out a hand to stop you, but said nothing when you turned your head up at him.

You closed the door behind you softly, knowing that an echo from the door slamming would make the entire interaction even weirder. It wasn’t until the door had almost clicked closed that you heard a soft “thank you” from Kevin. A loud argument and a slammed door later the date was over, and you waited for most of the night for Kevin to come over for comfort food. He never came, though you woke up to a sticky note on your door with two short sentences.

I’m sorry. Thank you for everything.

4. Taco Tuesday

It wasn’t just the fact that there was about half the roster sitting in her apartment, or the fact that they were all halfway hammered. It was the fact that Kevin hadn’t bothered to tell you the ‘couple of guys’ he’d invited to dinner was every member of the team not married with children. Nolan was the only mostly sober guy of the group, and that was only because he was coming off of a stomach bug. Thankfully, that stomach bug meant he was the one designated to help you prep for dinner. The guys had begged for your steak tacos after hearing about them for Kevin and then Travis, who had suckered his way into one of you and Kevin’s post-game dinners. Right now, your main concern was having enough meat to feed everyone.

Hands slid around your waist, squeezing slightly when you jumped. “I’m sorry for all the guys. I didn’t think they would all be so interested.” Kevin had to lean in close to your ear in order for you to hear him, and not for the first time you were thankful he was your only close neighbor. The people you shared a wall with were only around for about two months out of the year, and it wasn’t quite that time of year yet. “I promise I’ll keep them mostly chill, and we’ll get out early. I know you have an early call time tomorrow.” Oh, yes. First big road trip of the season. The early April roadies were your favorite, because the thrill of the travel hadn’t worn off yet.

Voices sounded from behind you both, someone commenting on how close Kevin was standing, and he jumped away from you with an impressive amount of speed. You lamented the loss of his body heat, though your next thought was a mental slap on the wrist for thinking about Kevin that way. No matter how into him you were, you couldn’t think like that. You were just friends. Travis slid into the conversation then to make more comments about the two of you, though you knew he meant well. Kevin had finally broken up with Kelsey/Karly, and Travis felt bad because he had been the one to set them up in the first place.

“So Y/N, how come you never bring a guy around to the bars with us?” You could have killed Travis for making that comment. He knew you had a crush on Kevin, had guessed it one night after a particularly rough day, and you were waiting for the day he decided to tell Kevin. “I might bring one around soon,” you said, much to the delight of the crowd around your apartment, minus Kevin. His head snapped up in a mixture of hurt and confusion, and you almost wished you hadn’t brought it up. “I have a date next week with a guy from your marketing department, actually.” Groans of disgust mixed with teasing met your ears at the same time Kevin slammed his beer bottle onto the counter. You would have to explore that outburst at a later date.

Kevin was distant for the rest of the night, and you had a feeling it had something to do with your date. The look on his face and the knowing smirk on Travis’ followed you into your sleep that night, and you tossed and turned until you finally went on a run around the city as daylight broke. A sticky note was waiting on your door when you got back, three brief sentences that made you release tension you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Have a great trip. Revolutionize baseball. You’re the best.

+1. Kevin finally says it

The date had been awful. There were really no other words for it. No matter how many times you dated someone involved in sports, their misogyny never ceased to amaze you. Jake had spent most of the little time you’d dealt with him mansplaining his job and hockey to you, no matter how many times you’d explained you understood both. If he worked for the Phillies, his position would have fallen under your management. In other words, you would have been his boss. You knew what his job entailed, but he couldn’t seem to get that.

But really, the icing on the cake? When he asked if you’d gotten a job with the Phillies so that you could marry some baseball player. As if you could see those boys as anything but loveable idiots. Like hopeless little brothers. You’d gotten up and left then, dropping enough cash on the table to cover your tab and then some before storming out. The text you sent Kevin was angry, a request for beer and a friend, and then you’d walked the mile back to your apartment in heels that were starting to give you serious blisters. The blisters and the red you were still seeing almost caused you to miss the sticky note on your door. Two words, and a scrawl that was very clearly Kevin’s. My place, 8 pm. That note made you smile despite what was quite possibly your worst date ever, and you hurried into your room to change into something more comfortable before heading to Kevin’s.

You walked right in after a knock, and the sight waiting for you almost made you wish you had waited. Soft music was playing from the speaker on Kevin’s kitchen counter, and something in the kitchen smelled heavenly. Kevin looked soft, the Kevin you were used to, in a worn Red Sox t-shirt and some sweatpants that hugged him just right. You were thankful you’d gone with leggings and a long sleeve shirt, especially when Kevin turned around and saw you. His eyes lit up, and you didn’t miss the subtle up-and-down he gave your body. It all felt incredibly domestic, though you didn’t want to drop too deeply into your feels before you’d even had dinner, so you quickly shoved those thoughts away. “Wanna talk about it?” Kevin passed you a beer as he asked, and you shook your head.

“Guy was a dick. Acted like I didn’t know anything about hockey, and then tried to mansplain his job, which is my job, to me.” Kevin snorted in disgust. He mumbled something that sounded like ‘dick’ under his breath, but the oven timer drowned him out. You jumped onto the kitchen counter as Kevin pulled on a couple of oven mitts. He had baked a lasagna, clearly homemade, and you took a deep breath as he placed the dish next to you. Kevin gave you a knowing smirk, and you knocked your beer bottle against his head gently. He knew you too well. His mother had cooked that lasagna when she was around for the mom’s trip, and you’d fallen in love with both the food and his mother. “Kevin, I love you.” He ducked his head, busying himself with scooping you a heaping plate of food. “That was the idea,” he mumbled under his breath. You chose to let it go, although the comment was filed under your list of things to ask him about at some point.

Kevin handed you a plate of lasagna and offered up a slice of fresh bread, which you took gratefully. He scooped himself a matching plate, though his portion was definitely smaller and more diet-approved, and nodded you towards his couch. Rizzoli and Isles was set up on the television, a drama that you and Kevin had been slowly working through together. It was fun to watch him pick apart the locations and inaccuracies, as well as pointing out places that he had grown up terrorizing. He didn’t ask any more about your date, for which you were grateful. The silence was peaceful, minus the occasional comment about the show, and you devoured your food in an amount of time that impressed even Kevin.

It wasn’t until later, when you were cleaning up his kitchen together, that you brought up his earlier comment. “Kev, what did you mean earlier?” He shot a confused look in your direction, and you sighed. “When you said ‘that was the idea’. What did you mean?” Kevin didn’t respond as he finished washing a plate, and he turned off the faucet after he handed you the plate to dry. You were patient, putting away the plate and then dropping the towel as you waited for a response. He would get there, in time.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/N.” Wait, no. Kevin? Liked you? You were frozen, unable to form a sentence. It was like he’d watched your dreams and decided to play a sick joke. Kevin ran a hand over his face and through his hair at your lack of response. “I always knew I didn’t have a chance with you, so I figured being your friend was just as good.” Now it was really just like the Twilight Zone. Either that, or Kevin was reading your mind. It was the exact battle you’d had with yourself several times in the last year-and-a-half plus. Your head spun as you tried to come up with a response, but the only one you came up with was to surge forward and kiss Kevin.

It was like nothing you’d imagined. Kevin was a lot taller than you, enough so that it made kissing him a little difficult at first. After he got over the initial shock of you jumping him he crouched a little, and you wound your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. Kissing Kevin felt right, like the one thing you had really been missing over the last couple of years was him. He smiled as you drew back for a breath, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah?” You laughed at his question. “Yeah,” you repeated, leaning in for another kiss. Kevin obliged, and you melted against him.

You finally left Kevin’s the next morning, rushing out the door so that you could shower before heading in for another game day. Kevin’s kiss on your cheek and a promise for an actual conversation followed you out, though the smile on your face lasted all day. You returned to your apartment that night to see a sticky note on your front door, in Kevin’s writing like always.

My place, 10 pm. Kiss for entry.

#Kevin Hayes Imaging #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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