thebluenoteblog

[thebluenoteblog]

I’ve written the first few hundred words of like 20 fics and I can’t find the words to finish any of them, so like just know that I’m trying and I wish that I could put out content, but I just can’t turn my thoughts into words to save my life right now.

[thebluenoteblog]

Chasing After You Part II

Part One

Summary: Matthew just can’t let you go, no matter how hard he tries. Unluckily, you have the same problem.

Player: Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: References to sex, a few cuss words, brief mentions of assault.

The sound of the clock ticking was driving you absolutely up the wall. The rhythmic click, click, click, was probably your least favorite part of your therapy sessions with Melinda. That and her stupid pen, tap, tap, tapping away against her notepad. “Why don’t you take notes on a computer like a normal person?” You asked her.

She frowned, “That isn't the point of today's session. We’re here to talk about you.” You continued to stare at her until she sighed, “I like the feel of pen on paper more than a keyboard. It feels more natural. Now, what are we working on today?”

You glanced over her shoulder. Stupid clock. 

“(Y/N)?” Melinda asked, “Do you want to talk about your progress with Matthew?”

You bit your lip, then released it and slowly said, “I don’t know. I don’t know where to go with him from here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” Melinda asked.

You shifted your gaze to your feet, “We’ve been hanging out together without having sex. Just watching movies and going out to dinner. People are taking pictures of us. They’re starting to talk.”

“Does that bother you?” She asked.

“Yes,” you said. “What if it doesn't work out? What if I don't want it too? What if he doesn’t want it too?”

“Do you really think there’s a chance that he doesn't want things to work out with you?” She asked.

You gave her an exhausted look. “Lets see, out of the six guys that I dated, three cheated, two physically assaulted me, and I had to take out a restraining order against one who stalked me.”

“Past failures do not…”

“Affect the present, yeah I know.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “That’s cool and all, but I’m batting 0 for 6 right now and that just isn’t a risk that I’m willing to take.”

She stared at you, tapping her pen on her notepad rhythmically. “So you’re giving up dating?”

“If I was a catholic, I would become a nun, but I'm not. So instead I'm just going to own a bunch of cats,” you said, only halfway joking.

Melinda sighed, setting her notebook down on her desk. “Can I say something off the record?” She asked, “As a friend, not a therapist?”

You nodded slowly.

She smiled and nodded back to you, “Okay. Just between us, there is nothing in the world that boy wouldn't do for you. Do you think he would still be waiting around for you if didn’t care about you a whole hell of a lot?”

You frowned, you hadn’t thought of it this way because… well the sex was good. Mind Blowing even. You’d assumed that he kept coming back for more because he wanted more of your… talents, and you his. Was it possible that he was sticking around because he genuinely cared about you? Because he loved you?

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know how he could. Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘No one can love you until you love yourself’? I don’t love myself. Not even a little bit.”

Melinda leaned back in her seat, “That saying is referring to the way one perceives the love of another when they don’t love themselves. It has nothing to do with the feelings of the other person.”

You shrugged, “Whatever.”

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Even your therapist was growing tired of your shit. After a moment in which she seemed to regain her composure, she reached for her notepad and set it back into her lap. “I think you should have a heart to heart with Matthew. Really talk to him.That’s your homework before our next session.”

<><><>

Matthew knew it was you at the door before he opened it, and not just because you had texted him asking if you could come over. He knew the way you knocked. He knew everything about you. He just wished that he could get that through to you.

He pulled the door open and smiled at you, ushering you into the apartment. “Want to watch a movie? There’s this new horror movie on HBO that I really want to watch.” 

You paused in taking off your jacket. “I was actually thinking that maybe we could talk,” you said.

Matthew was visibly shocked and a little scared, but he nodded, “Yeah, sure.”

You finished pulling your arms out of your coat and dropped it onto the arm of the couch. “I was wondering if…” you sighed as you sat down. “Maybe this was a bad idea.” You twisted your hands in your lap, “Maybe I should leave.”

Matthew took a seat on the couch beside you, “No, you shouldn’t. What do you want to talk about?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, “Why do you keep chasing after me?”

He shook his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you paused, should you say this? What if you opened his eyes to the situation and he changed his mind about you. No matter how high you kept your walls, it would still hurt if you lost him. Then he reached over and slowly laid a comforting hand on your thigh. “I don't know how to say this right,” you said, “It's just that you put up with so much shit from me.”

When you glanced up at him, he was smirking. “I love putting up with your shit. Its the highlight of my day.”

“No you don't,” you said, “I hurt you. Every day, I hurt you. I ignore your calls, I dodge your texts. I show up and we fuck and I leave. You always try for more and I always shut you down. So… why? Why do you put up with my shit?” 

He stared at you, mouth gaping like a fish as he took in your words. “I… I don't know.”

This was your worst nightmare. Melinda had been wrong about him. He was just like all the other guys. He didn't love you. He just wanted you for sex. Maybe you weren't hurting him at all. Maybe he was happy that you never allowed him more. Maybe he was sleeping with girls all over the country who thought they had him locked down.

“What I do know,” he said, “Is that I will deal with your shit for as long as you let me. I will never stop caring about you. I will never stop trying.”

You blinked back tears. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it,” he said, “I would never lie to you.”

His hand squeezed your thigh and you were suddenly very aware of him. Not just his words, but his body, his presence. You covered his hand with yours and he flipped his over, squeezing your fingers. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

He smiled at you, “Yes I do. I know you better than you think.”

A long moment passed with you staring into each other's eyes. Then you closed the distance and your lips connected to his. His hands tangled into your hair and tugged. You gasped and he slid his tongue into your mouth. He pulled you into his lap and you settled with one knee on either side of his thighs. 

He broke apart from the kiss and placed his hands on the sides of your face. You breathed each other in, eyes locked together, noses touching. Finally you said, “I’m ready. I’m really ready to try.”

You had never seen his smile bigger than it was in that moment.

[thebluenoteblog]

Kite

Summary: Your cousin is a brat, but just this one time, you don’t mind.

Player: Tyler Seguin

Word Count: 750

Requested: No

Authors Note: Just a short little meet cute.

Warnings: Mentions of hating rich people? Idk.

You loved kids, honest to god, you did. You wanted a whole house full of them someday. That being said, you couldn't stand your little cousin. She was eight years old and a complete nightmare. She wouldn’t eat anything you cooked (unless it was chocolate chip cookies), she insisted on watching the same two Disney movies on repeat all night (and they weren’t even the good ones), and she never stopped talking. She always got everything she wanted, and her parents had never disciplined her once.

However, the most annoying thing about her was that her parents were rich. You were one hundred percent ‘eat the rich’, so an eight year old who ate $50 kids meals and stuck her nose up at pb&j, well that just rubbed you the wrong way. Yet, somehow, you found yourself babysitting her one lovely summer afternoon.

You’d tried to convince her that it was just too hot to play outside, but there was no changing her mind, so you grabbed her favorite kite off the top shelf in the four car garage and headed for the backyard. Before you made it to the back door, Allison stomped her foot and insisted that you play in the front yard because the wind was “better” on that side of the house. 

You tried to tell her that there were too many trees in the front yard to fly a kite, but she insisted that she had always flown her kite in the front yard. That was how you ended up where you were now, listening to her scream at the top of her lungs that you were “irresponsible” and “stupid” and “too short” because you couldn’t reach the kite that she had gotten stuck in a tree branch within ten minutes of getting outside. 

You sighed, massaging your temples. You were about to head into the garage to look for a ladder when someone clears their throat. You opened your eyes and looked up as Allison stopped yelling. “Do you need some help?”

There was a man standing a few feet away on the sidewalk, he was tall, tattooed, and shirtless with defined muscles. His dark hair stuck out from under his hat. On the hat was the logo you recognized as belonging to the Dallas Stars. He took a step toward you and pointed at the kite. “I can probably reach that.”

You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. “That would be amazing.”

Allison nodded, taking a step back as he approached. Sure enough, he reached up into the branches and untangled the string before pulling the kite free. He handed it to Allison and she smiled up at him. She turned to look at you and said, “See, I told you we should play in the backyard. I’m going to fly the kite there.”

Then she was off, marching toward the house with determination. You sighed again, turning to look at the man who had just rescued you. “Thank you,” you said, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I would have been listening to that all night if you hadn’t come along.”

He laughed, “We wouldn't want that,” he said. “I’m Tyler.”

“Y/N,” you said. You tried not to ogle him as you asked, “What are you doing out here? It’s too hot to be outside.”

He laughed, “I was out for a run,” he said. “Gotta stay in shape, you know?”

You shook your head, “You couldn’t pay me enough to go running outside right now.”

He shrugged, “Then why were you outside?”

You glanced toward the house, “My cousin knows what she wants and how to get it. She would probably tell her parents I threw a plate at her face if I said no.”

He laughed again, “Sounds like a nightmare.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you joined him in his laughter.

For a long moment, you just stood there laughing together, then abruptly, he said, “Maybe you could tell me more over dinner?”

You smiled at him, “I would like that. I do need to repay you for your heroic kite rescue.”

“It was nothing,” he said, waving a hand. “But if that's what it takes to get you to go out with me, then I’ll take it.”

As you exchanged phone numbers, you were suddenly very glad that you had agreed to do your aunt a favor that day. Maybe you would make Allison some chocolate chip cookies.

[thebluenoteblog]

New in Town

Summary: Calgary seems to come with its own welcoming crew.

Player: Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 1.1k

Requested: Yes

Authors Note: Do you want a part two? I can’t decide if this needs one.

When your employer uprooted and moved headquarters to Calgary, you were terrified that you would lose your job. What you weren't expecting was that they wanted to keep you enough to move you out there and cover the cost of your housing as long as you stayed with the company. Yet, here you were, standing in one of the nicest apartments that you had ever seen, paid for out of someone else's wallet. 

Still though, as you made countless trips up and down five floors as you unpacked your car, you found yourself wishing that you had risked sending more items with the movers who would be arriving tomorrow with the rest of your things. You were currently struggling with a box of your favorite books, ones that you swore you would need for the nights alone in hotel rooms during the twenty six hour drive up here.

You were halfway through the lobby, nearing the elevators when the bottom of the box ripped apart and sent the entire game of thrones series, your hardcover collection of Harry Potter, and a few other miscellaneous favorites spilling all over the floor. You froze and slowly looked down at the mess at your feet. There were bound to be a few torn pages and you were suddenly even more upset that you hadn’t sent them with the movers.

“Need some help with those?”

You looked up from the depressing pile on the floor into the eyes of a curly haired man with a smirk on his face. For some reason that half smile got on your nerves. It was like he was judging you, over your taste in literature? Over your failure to properly pack boxes? You didn’t know, but the judgment was certainly there.

That being said, your box was toast and there was no way you could carry all of these books up on your own without it. “If you have time,” you said, dropping your arms and allowing the tattered box to hang at your side. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It isn’t a problem,” he said, dropping to his knees to begin gathering books into his hands. “I was just getting home. My only plans for the next few hours are TV and food that I shouldn't be eating.”

You nodded as you inspected your ancient copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You know,” he said, “If you carried the box from the bottom, this wouldn’t happen.”

You looked up, fully intending to tell him to go about his day, then you saw the smile on his face and the humor in his eyes. “I think the problem originated when I thought I could pack all of my favorites in one box.”

He glanced down at the books he was gathering into his arms. “Harry Potter is one of your favorites?”

There was no mistaking the judgment in his tone this time. “What about it?” You asked defensively, not looking up at him, but instead picking up the last book off the floor. You inspected it for damage, then added it to your pile.

He shook his head and you could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Nothing… just, aren’t you a little old to be reading books meant for 11 year olds?”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes at him. “Are you done critiquing my taste in literature?”

He laughed as he stood, “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

Your eyes stayed narrowed but your shoulders relaxed. “I guess I can forgive you.”

“Oh,” he said, “I’m not apologizing.”

You sighed, why did the hot ones all have to be either taken or complete assholes. You rolled your eyes at him and started toward the elevators, arms full of books. 

He laughed as he followed you. “What floor are you on?” He asked. 

You pressed the up button on the control panel and waited as the light blinked on. “Five.”

The curly haired man shifted the weight of the books into one arm and held out his hand, “I never introduced myself, I’m Matthew.” He paused, smiling. “I also live on the fifth floor.”

Great. He was your neighbor. Now you had to like him. Or at least tolerate him. The elevator arrived and you stepped inside. He pushed the correct button and then leaned back against the wall. “I’m y/n.”

He studied the book on top of the stack for a moment. “With how much we pay in rent, you’d think they could afford faster elevators.”

You nodded, “Thank god I don’t pay my own rent. I’d never be able to afford a place this nice on my salary.”

“Got a sugar daddy?” He asked, that same smirk on his face.

You frowned and rolled your eyes. “No, my employer is paying for my housing. It was their way of getting me to move here.”

“Oh,” he said, “That’s cool. Where are you from?”

You eyed him curiously. You couldn’t get a read on Matthew. Was he legitimately interested or did he just want an excuse to make fun of you again?

“St. Louis, Missouri.” You finally answered just as the doors opened and you stepped into the hallway of the fifth floor.

He bounced after you like an excited puppy. “No way! Me too,” he said. “Finally someone else who understands provel cheese and toasted ravioli! I love it here, but damn I miss home.”

“I hate provel cheese,” you said as you unlocked your door. 

He froze, eyes widening comically. “How can you hate something so amazing?”

You shrugged, “I think I ate it too much as a kid. It was the only pizza my dad would eat.”

You pushed the door of your apartment open and walked inside, dropping the books onto the pile of boxes you’d already carried up.

“You have no furniture,” Matthew said, “Why?”

You turned to watch as he set his stack of books next to yours. “The movers are getting here tomorrow with the rest of my stuff.”

He nodded slowly, “Do you have anything else to bring up? I’d be happy to help.”

You shook your head, “Nope, that was the last of it. I almost made it without making a fool of myself, then I fumbled on the last play.”

He laughed, “You didn’t make a fool of yourself. It was kind of cute. You looked like you wanted to hit something.”

You nodded slowly, “I did.”

Matthew smiled, taking a step closer to you, “Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” He asked. “You have no table to eat at or couch to sit on. You don’t even have a TV.”

You eyed him curiously. Why was he being so nice to you? Should you trust some random man who had continuously insulted you for the past ten minutes? 

Probably not.

Yet somehow, you found yourself saying yes.

[thebluenoteblog]

Send me a Sign

Summary: Every time Colton comes into the coffee shop you work in, he has something to look forward to.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 1000

Authors note: This is inspired by a prompt I saw today (creativepromptsforwriting) and instantly laughed at for like five minutes. I think It’s funny, but who knows if it actually is. You can decide that.

Colton was all about supporting small businesses, and that was how he found himself in a little family owned coffee shop on Main Street one cold October morning. The bell above the door twinkled when he opened it. You were the first thing he noticed when he crossed the threshold into the small lobby full of people. Standing behind the counter looking exhausted and a little frazzled. You were beautiful, even in the store uniform with a dirty apron tied around your waist and messy hair.

He joined the line, eyes focused on you as you rang up order after order until finally it was his turn. When he stepped up to the counter, you froze for half a second, taking him in. He was tall, handsome with a kind face. He smiled at you as he placed his order and you barely registered what you were ringing up. The shop had mostly cleared out, so you turned to make his drink. 

A few minutes later Colton was walking out of the shop with his coffee in hand. It wasn’t until he got to his car that he looked at the name written on the side. Collten. Not the correct spelling, but surely a correct one. He’d met guys with his name spelled that way before.

It was a week before he made it back to the little shop and by some miracle you were working again. The same worn uniform, the same dirty apron, the same frazzled movements as you struggled to take orders and make drinks for all the people who frequented the shop. 

When your eyes landed on him, he swore that he saw something break through the haze of exhaustion. Again, you took his order. Again, you made his drink and again, he didn’t look at the name written on the side of his cup until he made it to his car. When he did, he snorted. He had been expecting another Collten. However, written on the side of the cup in neat black lettering was Colltinn.

He was so amused by the spelling of his name on the last cup that he made his way back to the shop again the next day, hoping that you were there again. The bell chimed as he crossed the threshold and he was surprised to see you again. This time your hair was styled differently and you were wearing makeup. Not a lot of it, but enough that you noticed. This time, he was determined to know something about you, so after he ordered, as you made his drink he asked, “Is it always this busy?”

You nodded, “We have the best coffee in town. We’re always packed. I thank god every day that we don’t have a drive thru.”

He was about to respond, but you set his drink down on the counter and turned to take the order of a balding middle aged man wearing a uniquely patterned tie. Colton picked up his cup and made his way out of the packed lobby and onto the street. 

He didn’t make it to his car before he checked the name, he was too curious. He stopped under the orange awning and spun his cup around.

Colltyynn. He turned to look through the window, to see if you were watching him, or maybe just to get one more look at you. Instead he was face to face with the balding man in the ugly tie. The man grumbled something under his breath as he walked around Colton and by the time he could see through the window, the crowd was too big to see the counter.

The next two times he came to the shop, you weren’t there. He was beginning to worry that you had quit before he could get your phone number or even your name. Then one rainy afternoon, he was struck with the idea of coffee and he couldn’t stop himself from stopping in on the way to the rink. It was a random time of day that not many people were out looking for coffee, and when he walked through the door, bell chiming, he spotted you standing behind the counter wiping down an espresso machine. 

You turned when you heard the bell and dropped the rag into a tub under the counter. “Back again?” You asked.

Colton nodded, “You weren’t here the last two times. I was starting to worry that I might not get the chance to see how many ways you can incorrectly spell my name.”

You smiled, head tilted, hand on your hip. “The opportunities are endless.” You took a step closer, leaning against the counter. “I was on vacation.”

“Where did you go?” He asked.

“No where,” you said. “Just caught up on school work.”

“What are you studying?” He found himself asking, as he leaned against the counter, matching your stance.

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” You asked him and he found himself flushing. 

Before he could respond the bell above the door rang again and a group of teenagers walked in. The smile dropped off your face for half a second, then it was back and you were turning to the register, “So what can I make for you?”

It wasn’t until he was outside that he looked down at his cup. In the same neat black scrawl, Colltyyinn.

Underneath that, a phone number.

[thebluenoteblog]

Chasing After You

Summary: Matthew just can’t let you go, no matter how hard he tries. Unluckily, you have the same problem.

Player: Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: I don’t know... a lot of drinking. A few bad words.

Authors Note: Be gentle, this is the first thing I’ve written in a really long time. It might be (probably is) a dumpster fire.

You come over when your wine's all gone

Always catch me when I'm not that strong

Then you wind up staying all night long

Ain't nothin' new

Matthew had finally reached rock bottom, he had to admit that, though to no one other than himself. Sitting home alone on a Friday night. No game to play, no practice to keep his mind busy, no friends to hang out with. Just him, a beer, the temptation of something stronger, and nothing on the TV. 

It was really pathetic. The guys wouldn't believe it if they saw him right now. Or maybe they would. Maybe pathetic was his new style, it was certainly starting to feel like it after all.

He grabbed the remote off the couch beside him and began to flip channels, eventually settling on a baseball game. He wasn’t paying close enough attention to the game to tell you the score, he wasn't sure he even knew what teams were playing. 

Just a few minutes into the game that he was sort of watching, there was a knock on his door. He checked his watch, 10:34. You were earlier than usual. 

He pushed himself up off the couch and made his way to the front door of his apartment. He knew it was you. You were the only one the front desk let up without calling him. He still didn't know how you had managed that. Did you sweet talk the workers? Probably. 

He pulled the door open and there you were, bottle of wine in hand. “I finished one already, but I thought you might be open to having a drink with me.”

There were a thousand alarm bells going off in his head, but he stepped aside and let you into his apartment. You kicked off your shoes in the entryway and followed him into the living room. Neither of you bothered with grabbing glasses, you uncorked the bottle and took a sip before passing it to Matthew.

He knew where this was going, he always did. He couldn't tell you why he never stopped it. Or maybe he could. Maybe he knew and he didn't want to admit that even after everything you had done to hurt him over the years, he was still unbelievably, irrevocably in love with you. 

Then I wake up with you on my chest

You got a way of making me forget

Girl, with you the answers always yes

Every time you call

He was warmer than usual. It took him a minute to register you in his arms, head positioned comfortably on his chest. The way you used to sleep almost every night but now reserved for nights that you’d downed your alcohol a little to quickly.

Matthew was afraid to move, he knew that as soon as he stirred you, you’d be out the door just as quickly as you'd walked through it the night before. Just like that you would burst his bubble all over again. Just like you had a hundred times before. 

Eventually your eyes fluttered open and he watched as you scanned the room, taking in where you were. “Morning,” he said. 

You smiled, “Morning.”

The smile gave him hope that he squashed down just as quickly as it appeared. “Stay for breakfast?” He asked.

You shrugged, “Do I have to cook it?”

“I’ll order in,” He laughed softly. He would never let you cook for him again if that was all it took for you to stay. It wasn't, but he could dream.

You nodded, “I’m going to take a shower. What time do you have practice?”

Matthew glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “I’ve got a few hours still.”

You pushed up off his chest and he immediately missed the warmth of your body. He wanted to tell you to come back, just for a little while longer but he knew better. So he let you go, because having you in his shower was better than having you in an uber on the way back to your apartment. 

But I know, yeah I know it's a matter of time

'Till you walk, 'till you walk back out of my life

Leave me standing here lonely feeling like a fool

You stretched up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Matthew’s lips. It was soft, barely there. “I’ll call you.”

He knew you wouldn’t.

He nodded, “Text me when you get home safe.”

You nodded. “I will.”

He knew you wouldn’t.

You turned away from him and he watched as you disappeared down the hallway toward the elevator. When he couldn't see you anymore, he pushed the door closed and made his way back to the living room. 

Here he was again, a fucking idiot with a broken heart and nothing but time to kill.

Every time, every time you say we're done

You come back to the love you were running from

Don't know why, don't know why I let you but I do

Guess I love chasing after you

Matthew glanced down at his phone, tuning out the guys as he scanned the message, What are you doing tonight?

He typed out a response before anyone could realize who he was talking to. Nothing important.

Your response was almost immediate, I’ll be over in an hour.

Matthew rose from his seat and shoved his phone into his pocket. “Hey guys, I’ll catch you later.”

Johnny sighed, “Don't do it man, you're going to regret it.”

Matthew shook his head, “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

They looked at each other before turning back to him, “Man, this is getting ridiculous. She isn't good for you.”

“How do you know what's good for me?” Matthew asked, crossing his arms and widening his stance. “I think I can protect myself, I'm a big boy.”

Johnny sighed and waved a hand in his general direction, “Whatever, do what you want. Just don't come whining to me when she disappears again.”

Matthew snorted, “I don't plan on it.”

Then he was gone, phone in hand calling an uber.

Listen

Wish I could quit you but it feels too good

If I could turn it off, you know I would

But somethin' 'bout you makes me think we could

Make it after all

There was nothing in the world that made you angrier than your inability to walk away from Matthew. After everything the two of you had put each other through, there was no reason to keep going back. Yet… here you were. Standing outside his apartment after what was essentially a booty call.

You almost wished that Matthew would tell you to fuck off just so you could move on with your life. He wouldn't do that though, you knew Matthew too well and he knew you too well too. That was the problem. You had been with each other on some level for so long that you couldn't remember what it was like to be apart.

You hadn’t knocked yet, you could still leave. Go home and do the responsible thing for once. 

“Y/N.”

You turned toward the elevators, and there was Matthew. He looked amazing, t-shirt tight over his chest and shoulders, hair just a little bit in his eyes, the way you loved. There was no chance that you were leaving now. You were in this for the night now, not that this was bad news. You had never intended on leaving without seeing him.

“You’re early.” He said, running his hands through his hair.

“Yeah, I know,” You said, “I was bored.”

He nodded, “I can fix that.”

But I know, yeah I know it's a matter of time

'Till you walk, 'till you walk back out of my life

Leave me standing here lonely feeling like a fool

Why did he always think it would be different? Why was he always so determined to let himself think that there was a chance things would work out this time or next time or the time after that. There was no logical reason to believe that after all this time, anything would change, yet here he was, once again, surprised on some level that you had left him high and dry.

He closed the door, you had long since disappeared into the elevators, and he collapsed onto the couch. There was no way he would be hearing from you again for a while, so he buried his face in the throw pillow and decided to take a long nap.

After all, he had gotten no sleep the night before.

Every time, every time you say we're done

You come back to the love you were running from

Don't know why, don't know why I let you but I do

Guess I love chasing after you

You were always the one to end things. You had never, in your life, had your heart broken. You never let things get that far. You loved love, but you hated the idea of being hurt. So you kept everyone who tried to love you at a distance. Matthew was no exception, in fact he was the blueprint. There was no way you could ever give him your whole heart, there was no way you could ever trust him with a part of you that you had never given to anyone.

Oh, but you wanted to. More than anything, you wanted to give him every part of you in every way. You knew he loved you, on some level you knew that he would never hurt you, but here you were, three years into a mess of your own creation with no idea how to fix it.

“Y/N, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

You glanced up from your hands, eyes scanning the massive wall clock hanging above your therapists desk. Your appointment would be over in twenty minutes and you had yet to say a word to her. “I don’t know where to start today.”

She nodded, “What is bothering you today? Let's start with that.”

You sighed, “Matthew.”

“What about him?” She asked, tapping her pencil on the notepad that rested on her crossed legs.

You resisted the urge to sigh again. “I just…” You looked down at your hands, “I wish that I could let myself be happy with him.”

You come over when your wine's all gone

Always catch me when I'm not that strong

Then you wind up staying all night long

Ain't nothin' new

Two firm raps on the door had Matthew freezing as he poured his drink. He set the bottle down and made his way to the living room. He pulled the door open and there you were, beautiful as ever. Hair pulled up in a messy bun, hands in the pocket of your coat. “Hey, Matthew.”

Matthew smiled his eyes wondering over you, memorizing every inch as he stepped out of the way to let you into the apartment. “No wine this time?”

“No, no wine tonight..”

He laughed as he pushed the door closed behind you. “It's okay, I have some.”

You kicked off your shoes by his front door before turning to face him. “Actually, I was thinking maybe we could try this sober tonight.”

Matthew stared at you, his expression some strange mix of confusion and hopefulness. “Why?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You wanted to tell him that you were working on your shit, that you were trying to be less scary and damaged, but you couldn’t find the words or the courage to share that with him. Instead, what came out of your mouth was a joke, “What, do you have to be drunk to enjoy my company?”

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, “No, not at all.”

He followed you into the living room and took a seat beside you on the couch. Like always he gave you space. This time you scooted closer to him. His eyebrows rose for a split second, then he put an arm around your shoulders and grabbed the remote from the end table. “Want to watch a movie? I hear there’s some new Netflix original thats really good.”

You nodded and sank into his side as he scrolled through the selections.

Maybe this wasn't so scary.

Maybe you could get used to this.

[thebluenoteblog]

Hey everyone! If you’re still following me, thank you (though you probably forgot all about me by this point). I just wanted to pop in and say that I’m sorry for disappearing for over a year. In that time I moved twice, got married, and had a baby. I’ve been working full time as well as going to college part time. I’ve also really been struggling with my mental health.

Thankfully, I’m in a better place right now and things have kind of slowed down for me for the time being. (I’m moving again in a couple of weeks, so that’s going to be fun). I really want to get back into writing fic, but I don’t know what to write. If you have any songs or ideas that you want me to write a fic for please send them! I’m not taking specific player requests yet because I want to ease back into this with players that I’m comfortable writing, but maybe soon!

Also I’m really out of touch with what’s been happening on tumblr the past year because I really haven’t been on here much, so if anyone has time to fill me in on the big stuff, I’d really appreciate it.

[thebluenoteblog]

The Bookstore

Summary: Colton wasn’t expecting to run into an energetic little girl when he walked into the bookstore. Now though, he’s pretty happy that he did.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 950

Warnings: None that I can think of

Colton flipped the paperback over in his hand, examining the cover then flipping it again to read the synopsis. He was a couple of sentences in when he felt a tug on the leg of his jeans. Slowly, he pulled his eyes away from the book and looked in the direction of the tug. Nothing there. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, returning to the book. It was about a second before he felt another tug.

This time the tug was accompanied by a voice. A small, soft voice. “’scuse me sir,” He looked down quickly, startled by the sudden sound in the otherwise quiet bookstore.

He lowered the book onto the shelf then crouched down beside a small girl. Three, maybe four years old, brown hair just a little past her shoulders and bright green eyes. He smiled at her and looked around, halfway expecting the child to have parents close behind. When his scan of the aisle turned up empty, with the exception of the little girl, he turned back to her. “What can I do for you?” he asked her.

“You’re like the giant in the story mommy tells me,” she said, “Can you touch the roof?”

He laughed, “No, not quite. Where are your mommy and daddy?”

The little girl seemed to think long and hard about this before drawing her shoulders up to her ears in an exaggerated sigh. “Mommy says that daddy is in heaven, but I don’t know where she is. She’s all gone.” The little girl looked over her shoulder then peaked around Colton before focusing her eyes back on him. “See? All gone.”

He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, not quite sure how to respond to a little girl telling him so casually that her father was dead. Eventually he responded, “Well how about we stay right here until your mommy comes back.”

She seemed to ponder this suggestion for a moment before finally giving a sure nod. “Mommy tells me to stay in one place if I get lost.”

He dropped completely onto the ground and asked her, “What’s your name?”

She smiled, “Evelyn Rose (Y/L/N).”

“Okay Evelyn,” he said slowly, “Where did you last see your mom?”

Very slowly, like she was speaking to a complete idiot, she responded, “If I ‘membered, I’d go find her.”

He tried his best to hold back a laugh and failed, a little chuckle making its way through his lips. “Good point.”

Evelyn was in the process of responding when a frantic looking woman rounded the corner and spotted them. “Evelyn!” She called.

Evelyn whipped her head around and said excitedly, “You found me!”

Her mother ran forward and scooped her up into her arms, “We weren’t playing hide and seek, Peanut. You can’t run off like that in public.”

Colton climbed to his feet and watched as you looked over your daughter. After a long moment, you moved your attention from Evelyn to the man who had been sitting with her. “I’m so sorry if she bothered you. She’s an adventurous one.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” he said with a smile.

You nodded, “Yeah, I have no idea where she gets it.”

He stuck out a hand which you took, “I’m Colton.”

“(Y/N).”

You were about to thank him and be on your way when Evelyn squirmed back and looked into your face, “He’s really nice mommy. You should go on a date with him.”

Colton watched in amusement as your whole face turned red, “My daughter the matchmaker…” you mumbled.

He laughed as he studied you, beautiful with no makeup on and hair up in a messy bun. He watched the way you clutched your daughter to your chest as though you were afraid she would disappear again. He took in the lack of ring on your finger. After an awkward moment of silence he nodded, “You’ve got to give Evelyn what she wants right?” He shrugged, “I hate to disappoint after all.”

Your eyes widened, just enough for Colton to notice and slowly you nodded, “I guess I owe you. You did find my little runaway.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you, with one hand you added your number into his phone then handed it back to him. He slid it back into his pocket and nodded at you. “I’ll text you,” he said, “I’m leaving town for work tomorrow, so we’ll have to go out when I get back next week.”

Slowly you nodded, still in a daze. You started to leave but turned back to him and asked, “What is it that you do?”

You watched as his eyes lit up, but he just smiled at you and said, “I’m in entertainment.”

Slowly, you nodded, “Hmm,” you said, “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere. Were you in a movie or something?”

He shook his head, “Or something.”

He glanced down at Evelyn who appeared to have fallen asleep on your shoulder and then looked back up at you. “You know, if you can’t find a babysitter feel free to bring her along. She’s hilarious.”

You laughed, “I’ll think about it.” You gestured over your shoulder, “I should really get going. It’s past her nap time.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

He watched as you rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

When you were gone, he picked the book up off the shelf and studied the cover for the second time. He contemplated putting it back, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He was still smiling as he made his way to the register.

[thebluenoteblog]

I'm happy you're back! I had also been starting to get a little worried, but didn't want to bother you and send an ask

Asks are never a bother! They always put a smile on my face. Whether they're requests or just something random. My inbox is always open to anyone 😊

[thebluenoteblog]

Rebound

Summary: You really didn't handle the break up well, that is after all, how you ended up in the bed of a member of the opposing team the night before a big game. What could possible go wrong (spoiler: a lot).

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: Drunk one night stand and cursing. 

***Tyler Seguin is sort of the bad guy in this fic. I have nothing against him. I’ve written many fics about him. I just wanted to play on a central devision rivalry and this is an old fic. At the time he was the only player on one of those teams that I knew enough about to write without having to google anything. I did not mean to offend anyone and I would like to clarify that this is just a story and I do not think that he would actually do this in real life.***

You tossed back yet another shot, knowing somewhere in the recesses of your fuzzy brain that you really shouldn’t. You should have stopped three drinks ago. You should have stopped the first time you almost fell off your barstool. The bartender should have cut you off. But none of that happened. Instead you pursed your lips at the burn in the back of your throat as the liquor ran down it for the umpteenth time that night.

Your phone was dead, and you had no idea how you were getting back to the hotel, at this point you didn’t care. It had been so long since you had seen Colton outside of work and you were broken. You couldn’t remember how to function. Going to work every day, taking pictures of the boys for the social media accounts, seeing him on the ice, on the plane, and not being able to touch him or talk to him… everyone knowing that things ended… you couldn’t do it anymore.

You were days away from checking yourself into the hospital. For your liver’s safety and your own. If you were in the hospital though, you lost all of your crutches, liquor and rebounds, and you couldn’t call Colton at five in the morning and pray that he would answer.

He usually did, because that was the kind of man that Colton was. He wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything important. Someday he would stop answering. That thought had you ordering another drink.

“Let me buy that for you?” A voice asked from behind you, you turned your head and stumbled a little. A hand reached out and steadied you, landing on your back. “Careful,” He laughed.

Bingo, you found a ride home. And a crutch for the night. He was cute. Tall. Not as tall as Colton by any meaning of the word, but that was good. You didn’t want that. He didn’t look anything like Colton. That was exactly what you needed. He looked oddly familiar, but you were too far gone to place it. “Sure,” you said.

“You aren’t from Dallas, are you?” He asked, taking in your faded blues t-shirt.

You shook your head as he sat down, and you closed your eyes, the motion making your head spin, “No, I’m from St. Louis. Just visiting for a couple days.” Your words were barely slurred, and you were surprised that you were stringing that many together coherently. You must be spending too much time drunk. Your poor liver.

The bartender delivered your shot and it was gone in a second. You made the same face you’d made before, he was smiling at you when you opened your eyes. He handed the bartender a card, “Cover her tab,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, making a sound of protest.

He waved a hand, “Its nothing.”

“You underestimate how much I’ve had to drink,” you responded.

He shrugged, “Like I said, it’s nothing.”

The two of you talked for a little while, you avoided what you were doing in Dallas and he didn’t mention what he did for a living. Eventually, you said, “Do you want to get out of here?” your head was still fuzzy but you were starting to sober up a bit and you were pretty sure that you could walk by that point.

“Fuck yes,” he said, and he placed his hand on your back as he showed you to his car.

****************

You woke up the next morning to an alarm going off, naked, in the bed of a strange man. You snapped your eyes open and were immediately thankful that you were mostly immune to hangovers. You jerked up in bed and noticed the naked form of Tyler fucking Seguin lying next to you. This was a new low. Even for you. As the social media manager for the Blues, you couldn’t be hooking up with the Alternate captain of the Dallas Stars. It just wasn’t something that would fly if anyone found out.

Besides the fact that they were playing tonight, and you didn’t want to think about all the chirping that would occur if Seguin found out you were Colton’s ex-girlfriend. It was a nightmare waiting to happen. Thank god neither of them were fighters. Not that you would expect Colton to pick a fight over you after all of his insisting that he didn’t care about you, but it was a pride thing.

If everyone heard a guy say he fucked your girl the night before, and he was clearly serious, even if it was your ex-girl, you were all but contractually obligated to hit him. It was like in the unwritten rules of hockey.

You jumped out of bed and began gathering your clothes, praying that Seguin was a heavy sleeper and you would get out of the room before he woke up to the sound of the alarm. Unfortunately, that mission was a failure. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. “No round two?” He asked, “No good morning kiss?”

You hesitated, then decided that this would be a good time to come as close to clean as you could without endangering lives. “I’m in Dallas because I’m the Blues social media manager. I was to drunk last night to realize who you were and now that I know, I can’t sleep with you in good conscience,” you paused as a look of understanding dawned on his face, “They would run me out of my office with torches and pitchforks if they found out.”

Seguin released you and backed up, “Jesus, I didn’t realize you were that drunk.”

You nodded as you pulled your shirt over your head, “Well, this was fun. Don’t mention it to anyone. And I mean anyone.”

“What, do you think they’ll fire you over it or something?” He asked, leaning back against his headboard, not seeming to care that he was barely covered by a thin sheet, “You’re a big girl. I’m sure they understand that you have needs.”

“And they expect me not to meet them with the opposing team the night before a big game on a road trip,” you said, covering your tracks, “I have to go, I’m supposed to get pictures of morning skate for the accounts.”

He shrugged, “Whatever you say.”

************

Colton had a shit night. He hadn’t slept worth a damn. He’d laid in bed and stared at his phone, waiting for your five am call that usually came but sometimes didn’t. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what happened on the nights that your calls didn’t come. He was always an emotional mess the next day, but he played his best. Big aggressive hits and hard shots that tore the net and shattered the glass. He’d accidentally hit Binner so hard in the mask with a puck one day at practice after you didn’t call that the poor guy had to sit out for a solid five minutes.

Today was bad though, because you were in Dallas, and what the fuck were you doing out in Dallas? Who were you with? Were you safe? All those thoughts raced through his head at twice the rate they normally did. You knew people back home. You had friends. He could convince himself that you were just busy with the girls. This was different.

He made his way down to morning skate and as all the guys entered the ice, he saw you standing at one of the Zamboni entrances. He was tempted to skate over to you and ask why you hadn’t called the previous night, but instead he just skated a circle around the rink, noticing when he did that you had a hickey on your neck. Mostly concealed by foundation and a jacket, something one would only notice if they were looking for it like he was. He ground his teeth on his mouth guard and focused his eyes forward.

***************

The puck dropped at seven o’clock and Seguin started a brawl at seven fifteen. It was between face-offs, they were just standing next to each other and he said, “So funny, I found out who runs your social media accounts.” He was met with a blank stare from Colton, so he continued, on a mission to throw the giant of a defensemen off his game. “Well anyway, I found her personal Instagram and it turns out the two of you used to be a couple!” He laughed “isn’t that funny? She hasn’t taken your pictures down yet, you know?”

By this point, they had started to draw a small crowd. The team knew how sensitive of a subject you were for Colton. If there was any way to get him to drop gloves, this just might be it. “Why is that funny?” Colton asked, going stiff. He thought back to the lack of a phone call and the hickey on your neck. No. You would never screw another hockey player. Not a Star. Not someone with a reputation like Seguin’s. You wouldn’t do that to him no matter how much he hurt you.

Still, the longer he stared down into Seguin’s eyes, the less he believed what he was telling himself.

“Well, it’s funny because I fucked her last night.” He said, a devious and amused look on his face.

Blood was pounding in Colton’s ears so loudly that he almost didn’t hear the next part of his statement.

“She’s a freak, but you already knew that didn’t you?”

A few things happened at once. First, the refs gave up on the face off upon hearing what Seguin said. Second, Colton threw his stick on the ground, shook off his gloves and pounced like a lion on a gazelle. He didn’t even wait for Seguin to drop his gloves first, though he did a second later, before the refs even made it over to break up the fight. All the stars were on Colton, trying to stop him and pull him off of Seguin who was definitely not a fighter and did not have size or anger on his side.

His teammates had his back though because they all grabbed a different guy and went to town. Within seconds they had a full-on line brawl and the refs were struggling to decide who to break up first. They both seemed slightly hesitant to mess with Colton who looked ready to murder and Seguin was now on the ice but still fighting back as much as he could when pinned to the ground. He was bleeding, his nose looked broken at the very least. Both refs grabbed a shoulder and pried Colton off of him.

Colton seemed to realize what he was doing and backed off. He stood up, raising to his full six-foot six height and looked over to where he knew you were standing, mouth agape and camera hanging limply by your side. He knew you would be pissed and confused. He hung his head, equally pissed at himself and skated off the ice, head hung, running a bloody knuckled hand through his hair as he headed straight to the locker room, leaving his equipment on the ice and not even waiting to be told that he was being called for a ten-minute misconduct. It was obvious. The trainers were already making their way to Seguin. Besides, his hands needed to be iced or they would be bruised too deep to move his fingers tomorrow.

****************

Colton was sitting on his couch staring at the wall, wondering how on earth he’d managed to avoid a suspension when he heard a knock on his door. He made his way across the house and pulled it open to revel you, standing out in the snow in nothing but a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. “Jesus (Y/N), you have to be freezing.” He said, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you.

You were shivering but he knew you would never admit to being cold. “I came to tell you you’re an idiot,” you said.

He paused and furrowed his bows. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

“You got a game misconduct on your nearly pristine record because you let something some guy said about me get to you. You’re an idiot, you said, crossing your arms.

He pushed his lips together and took in a deep breath before responding, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get suspended. Those refs went to bat for you. That and your reputation are the only thing that saved you.”

“I said I’m sorry okay!” He snapped, “It hurt!”

You looked taken aback, “What hurt?” You asked.

He sighed, “You being with someone else. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much.”

“You’re going to stand there and tell me you haven’t been with anyone in the last two months?” You asked him, your chin rising in defiance.

“Yes, (Y/N), because I can’t.” He said shaking his head. He took a step closer to you. All of the times that he’d wanted to touch you since the two of you had split crashing down on him and crushing his will power. “I still love you and it feels so wrong to look at anyone else.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, “You left me. You broke up with me.”

“It was the biggest mistake I ever made.” Colton said, finally bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek. “You don’t know how sorry I am.”

“What are you saying, Colt?” You asked, looking up into his eyes, ignoring the bruise on his jaw that made you unreasonably angry.

He swallowed roughly, “I’m asking you to forgive me (Y/N), I’m asking you to take me back.”

You blinked your eyes closed and a tear ran down your cheek. He swept it away with his large thumb. “I forgive you, Colt. I could never hold a grudge against you.”

“But?” He asked quietly.

“But… how will I ever trust that you won’t leave me again?”

He resisted the urge to pull you tight against him and press his lips against yours and prove to you in a thousand ways, just how dedicated he was to never leaving your side again. Instead he said, “Baby, if you take me back, I will do anything in the world to prove to you that I will never hurt you again. I’ll spend as much time with you as I can. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Anything. Just for you. Just please,” He said, dropping his head to meet your eyes as you opened them, “Give me another chance.”

You swallowed roughly and studied him. After a moment, you said, “You don’t have to take me anywhere. I just want you.”

This time, he didn’t stop himself. He pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips against yours, putting all the emotions that he had been suffering behind it.

[thebluenoteblog]

So read everything colton parayko. And I may or may not have fall in love with yet another freezer. And I may or may not have checked if our zodiac sign are matching(I dont belive in this shit. But they do). So thank you for making me fall in love with a smart (I love a smart man^^),big softie who seems to be fiercely loyal. I hate it and love it^^ AND he is canadian. Double yes. Three times yes? I dont even know ^^

I love that you checked to see if your zodiac signs match and I’m very happy to know that I made you fall in love with him (I refuse to feel bad about it because you guys have made me fall for a few players that were barely on my radar before I started this blog). I have another Parayko fic coming up so I hope you enjoy it!

[thebluenoteblog]

So I read thru your master list. I'm in love love love. BUT can I just say how much i adore security? The sheer concept of a 200 pound wall of muscle launching itself into the glass and having a stare down? Mark me scared and horny yes ma'am !

Thank you so much! I started writing it as soon as I saw the request. I was like ‘Okay, yeah, I’m down for this’. It was definitely fun to write.

[thebluenoteblog]

When are you posting next? I miss your writing!!!!

I’m sorry that I disappeared for a while. I (sort of) moved and had a few really crappy things happen in the past couple weeks that I needed time to work through. I just couldn’t find it in me to write for a bit (especially because some of my requests hit a little too close to home after what happened). I’m hoping to post more frequently but I can’t make any promises because I also fell behind in my classes. I do however, have a fic ready to post that will be up shortly.

[thebluenoteblog]

The Dress

Summary: The first time Matthew saw you, you were wearing a wedding dress. Someday, he plans to see you in another one.

Player: Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 1k

Matthew saw you for the first time, sitting at a bar in a wedding dress. Your hair was curled, halfway up and halfway falling down your back in gentle waves. Your makeup was done up perfectly, and there was a ring sitting in front of you under an overturned shot glass. He stared at you for an hour. Well, everyone in the bar stared at you all night. Brady stared at you from the moment you walked in. Matthew, however, was staring at you for a different reason.

You were beautiful. There was something in your eyes, something fierce, something wild. Something that he wanted to know on so many levels. He knew it was a bad idea. He knew he should keep his ass planted firmly in his seat, but something about you called to him. So, he listened.

He put down his beer and he rose to his feet, making his way across the bar, as he heard Brady in the background calling out to him asking, “What the fuck are you doing?”

He made his way across the bar and dropped down on the barstool beside you. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and you didn’t look anything like he would have expected a runaway bride to look. You didn’t look sad or broken. You didn’t look like you regretted a thing.

You looked like you were ready to run into battle, guns blazing or jump out of a plane or block a 104 mile per hour slap shot without hesitation.

You looked like you couldn’t give less of a fuck about what anyone thought.

“Hey,” he said.

You nodded, “Hi.”

Matthew smiled at you, “Nice dress. Can I ask why you’re wearing it in a bar?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “You just did,” you paused and then answered the question, “Clearly I ran away from my wedding. Don’t feel bad for him, he’s a jerk. I guess that’s just my opinion though.”

He nodded and flagged down the bartender to order the two of you drinks, after they were delivered, he asked you, “Why did you run away?”

“I guess I realized that I don’t love him,” you said. “He…” you sighed and stared at the shot glass that trapped the ring, “He doesn’t make me feel anything. I need to feel passion, you know? I need to know it’s real. He was too bland. He didn’t have any edge. There was nothing to be passionate about.” You paused, “Wow, the first person I told that too is a stranger in a bar who I’ll probably never see again.”

You did see him again though and today, Matthew stood getting ready for your wedding asking himself the same question over and over again. Would you walk down the aisle this time?

He turned and stared at Brady, his best man with wide eyes, “What if she runs? She’s done it before.”

Auston slapped his back, “Matthew, she isn’t going to run. She loves you. If she wanted edge she found it. How many suspensions are you up to now?”

“I don’t think that’s what she meant,” he said, turning and grabbing a rock out of the decorative bowl on the end table and tossing it in the air to keep his hands and mind busy. It was only doing one of those things. “What if she decides that she doesn’t love me?”

“Does she know that you’re freaking out like this?” Jonny asked, from where he was leaning against a wall. “Because I think she would call you stupid. Man, she loves you. She isn’t leaving.”

Matthew shook his head, “No and she can never know. She’d be mad at me for not trusting her.”

“Or she’d laugh at you for freaking out.”

Matthew shot Brady a glare, “Shut up.”

“Man, everything is going to be fine,” Auston said, squeezing his shoulder, “Just calm down.”

Everything was fine. After the wedding party had gathered at the end of the aisle in their positions, the doors opened and there you were. You looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembered you looking the first time he had seen you in a wedding dress. The music played, and the crowd rose. Your father held your arm and walked with you, keeping you steady in your heels that Matthew knew you had practiced walking in for months. The walk felt entirely too long. He was scared the entire time that you would turn around and run, and after seeing you like this, like this all for him, he didn’t think he could live with that.

You never ran though. Your father gave you to him and shook his hand. He even smiled at him, something that Matthew hadn’t been expecting. It was no secret that your father was less than pleased about you marrying a hockey player. Someone who would take you away from St. Louis. Could he blame him? He would resent anyone that tried to steal you too.

There was something about that smile though, and that handshake. It was like he was being welcomed into the family. It was like your father was putting that behind them for the sake of your happiness and when Matthew looked back at you standing in front of him, you were smiling the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

You both said your vows and he wiped tears from your cheeks with the rough pads of his thumbs. When he was given permission to kiss you, he did. He kissed you hard, not fully believing that you were truly his, that he was this lucky. That you hadn’t run.

The crowd, much larger than you had wanted, but that you had begrudgingly consented to, cheered and he smiled against your lips.

When he pulled away, he laughed, a soft breathy laugh. “Stop crying, babe. I hate it when you cry.”

“They’re good tears,” you defended, looking up and swiping a hand delicately under your eye to clear your water line.

Matthew shook his head and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “If you make me cry in front of them, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You were both laughing as you made your way back down the aisle, finally starting your life together.

[thebluenoteblog]

Special Delivery

Summary: You’re finally in labor, now all you want is for it to be over with and to  be holding your beautiful baby.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 1k

Request:  If you have time could you do a fic about Colton Parayko in the delivery room? You’re a talented writer and I love what you have posted!!!

Note: I have never given birth, or been present for a birth so it’s a little short because I didn’t want to write something outlandish. This was still fun to write though.

Colton pressed his lips to the top of your head and squeezed your hand as you laid back against the pillow, already exhausted. You met his gaze and said, a serious look on your face, “I’m never doing this again.”

He nodded, “Okay,” but you knew that it wasn’t, in fact, okay.

He wanted a house full of kids. One wouldn’t be enough for him, regardless of what you said while you were frustrated and in pain. He was Colton though, so he would go along with it. Besides, he knew that one wasn’t enough for you either.

He knew that you would probably be right back in that same position two years later. That was the plan at least. Three kids, two years apart. You were starting to regret agreeing to that as you were pulled into another contraction.

You leaned forward, and Colton rubbed your back, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and started to whisper something to you, then changed his mind and stayed quiet. Apparently having decided that nothing he could say would be adequate.

When you eventually laid back against the pillow again, he gave you a weak smile and brushed a few strands of sweaty hair from your face that had escaped your pony tail. “When is the nurse going to come back?” You asked quietly, allowing your eyes to close.

“I don’t know, baby,” he said, pressing another kiss to your skin, this time the back of your hand. “Do you want me to hit the call button?”

“No,” you said, “No, I’m fine. I just want this to be done.”

“I know, baby.” He said, again rubbing his thumb over your temple.

You frowned, eyes still closed, “Don’t patronize me.”

“What?” He asked, “I’m not… I didn’t…” he paused and then said, “I’m sorry.”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, “You just did it again.”

He dropped his head, in an effort to hide the smile forming on his face, “You’re messing with me right now, aren’t you?”

You laughed softly, “Yeah.”

Before he could respond, you squeezed your eyes together and sat up again, “Damn it,” you mumbled. He returned to rubbing your back until you relaxed.

“The nurse said to call her when the contractions got any closer together,” Colton said. “I think I should hit the button.”

“Go ahead,” you said, “I don’t care. They’re just going to let me down again just like they have been since we got here.”

He ignored your sarcasm and pushed the call button.

<><><><><><>

“You’re almost there, (Y/N),” the doctor said, “Just a couple more and you’ll be holding your baby.”

One of Colton’s hands rested behind your neck and his other hand was in yours. He was tall enough that he could see everything that was going on at the foot of the bed. He could see the top of the baby’s head, a head full of hair.

He somewhat zoned out, after coming to the realization that he was about to be responsible for an actual human baby. He was only pulled from his thoughts by the sound of that baby crying. He snapped back to reality as the doctor held up a small, messy wiggling body. “You have a healthy little boy,” she looked over at Colton, “Does dad want to cut the cord?”

He nodded, still a little dazed as he slipped his hand from yours and gently removed the support from behind your neck. He rubbed a thumb over the back of your hand and then moved to stand beside the doctor and then did exactly as she instructed him to.

The doctor moved to place your son on your chest and Colton followed close behind her, taking his place beside you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The nurse draped a small towel over him and you cried, though not as loudly as he did.

Colton reached out a hand and held it up next to his son’s tiny fist. You both laughed, and the sound startled the little boy into silence. He stilled and blinked his eyes open. Somehow you had ended up with a perfect blonde haired, blue eyed baby boy.

The nurse came over and held out her hands, before asking kindly, “Can we take him for a minute? Get him all cleaned up for you? Take some measurements?”

Reluctantly you handed him over to her and she turned to the little bed in the corner of the room. Colton straightened up and watched over her shoulder from across the room. You poked him softly in the ribs but he ignored you.

The nurse, seeming to notice the attention she was getting from the new dad across the room turned and smiled, “You can help if you want.”

He nodded and squeezed your hand before disappearing across the room. You knew in that moment, there was someone new wrapped around his finger.

<><><><><>

It was a couple of days later, after you were home from the hospital and settled in that the team started to filter through your house to meet the newest little Blue. The first to stop by were Alex and Jayne. They brought a little baby blanket with a ‘55’ stitched in the corner.

Jayne looked down at the little boy in her arms as soon as you handed him over and said, “Alex, we should have another one.”

Alex’s eyes got wide and he said, “Baby, we talk about this every time.”

She sighed, “I know,” and ran a finger over the baby’s cheek. “What name did you decide to go with?”

Colton smiled and looked down at you from where he was sitting on the couch with his arm around your shoulders and you raised an eyebrow at him. “You should be the first to tell the team his name.”

He shook his head, “On three.”

You rolled your eyes as he began to count down.

[thebluenoteblog]

Spoiled

Summary: Sometimes acting like a brat actually does get you your way.

Player: Brendan Lemieux

Word Count: 1.2k

Request: I got two different requests for Brendan Lemieux smut.

Warnings: Smut. Manipulation, maybe? I don’t know.

It was a little after nine o’clock at night when Brendan got home. He walked through the door as though he had done nothing wrong and to be quite honest, he hadn’t. He didn’t need to know that though. He walked straight over to you and attempted to place a kiss to your lips. You turned your head to the side and suppressed a smile when his lips connected with your cheek. Slowly he pulled away, his eyes landing on yours. “Babe?”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up from the iPad sitting on your lap.

“Did I…” he paused, “Did I do something?”

You shrugged your shoulders and continued to focus your attention on Facebook.

He sat down on the couch beside you and attempted to pull the tablet out of your hand, you tightened your grip but gave no other indication that he was interfering with your scrolling. Finally, he succeeded in pulling the tablet from your hand and you frowned as he placed it gently on the coffee table in front of him.

Before he had a chance to say anything, you rose to your feet and headed into the kitchen, Brendan following closely at your heels. You turned on the sink and began to scrub a pot, which lasted all of ten seconds before he reached around you and shut off the water. “(Y/N), what the fuck?”

You hummed nonchalantly like you weren’t totally fucking with him and continued to scrub the pot without any water running.

He grunted and placed his hands on the counter, one on either side of you and leaned his head down to whisper in your ear. “You’re always such a brat when you want to get fucked.” He pressed himself against your back and heard your sharp intake of breath, “That’s why you’re putting on a show. You want me to fuck you.” He folded himself around you, so he could see your face and watched as you tried to hide your smile and failed. “You can’t fool me. I know you to well.”

You pushed yourself back against him to find him already hardening against you. He grabbed a dish towel from the counter and handed it to you. As soon as you had finished drying your hands, he spun you around and pressed you back against the counter, gripping your chin roughly in his hand and angling your face up toward his. He brought his lips down to yours.

The kiss was rough, demanding. He nipped at your lip and his tongue was in your mouth, his teeth were clashing against yours. It was amazing. You could feel wetness pooling between your thighs and you pressed them together as you brought your hands up to wrap around his neck.

His lips slipped away from yours and you whined, he chuckled and trailed his lips down your neck before removing them from you completely. He pulled back and yanked your tank top over your head then tossed it to the kitchen floor.

It looked like you were doing this here.

He grabbed your hips and spun you around, pressing your back against the island. He moved to grip your pants, but you shoved his hands away and he grunted as his eyes focused on you. You went for the hem of his shirt and he ducked, allowing you to pull it over his head.

You dropped to your knees and undid the button on his pants, looking up at him as he stared down at you with pupils so wide you could barely see his iris’s. You pulled his pants down his legs and ran your hand over his cock through his underwear. He let you do this for a moment before he broke, “(Y/N), please.”

You smiled and pulled him out of his boxers before running your fingers lightly over him a few times. He let out an annoyed groan, “God, I’m giving you what you want and you’re still being a brat.”

You held back a laugh as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock and then taking him as far as you could. You wrapped your hand around what you couldn’t and followed your rhythm. You didn’t keep your rhythm for long however, because he gripped your ponytail and created his own.

Eventually, he pulled you off of him and you stared up through your lashes as you wiped the spit off your face. He waited a moment for you to catch your breath before he pulled you to your feet.

He pressed his lips against yours again and his fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra, unhooking it easily. You slid it down your shoulders and it joined your shirt on the floor. You expected Brendan to lift you onto the counter, as he usually did, instead he pulled away and spun you around.

He pushed you over, breasts pressed against the cold surface of the countertop. He lifted you so that your feet were off the floor and you were level with him. He yanked your pants down and rubbed a hand over your ass. “No underwear?” He asked, folding himself over your back.

You hummed, the side of your face flat against the hard surface beneath you. “They just get in the way.”

He groaned and bit your shoulder before straightening up and pressing a finger into you. You sucked in a breath and bit your lip as he added a second finger. “Brendan,” you said, breathy and desperate. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, and he pulled his fingers out of you. You watched over your shoulder as he took them into his mouth and licked them clean. He dropped his hand and gripped himself, then began pushing into your entrance.

When he was fully inside of you, you let out a moan and pressed your fingertips into the countertop, wishing that you had something to hold onto. He pulled out slowly and you whined, never one for patience. He slammed back into you and the tops of your thighs dug painfully into the edge of the counter, but you hardly noticed. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you hard and fast.

He pulled you down just enough that he could squeeze his hand between your body and the counter, then he began to rub circles on your clit. You turned your face into the counter, pressing your forehead against the cool stone felt absolutely amazing.

It wasn’t long before you felt yourself begin to flutter around him, and you gasped out, “God, Brendan, I’m close.”

He squeezed his hand on your hip and continued his motions, “Cum for me baby. Cum on my cock.” His words were enough to finish you off, you clenched around him and moaned out his name in a way that sent him right after you.

When you had both come down from your highs, he pulled out of you and watched as his cum ran down your thigh. He ran a hand over your ass, pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then turned, grabbed a towel from the drawer behind him and wet it in the sink.

“Babe,” you said, turning to look over your shoulder, “Don’t use the kitchen towels.”

He snorted, “It’s too bad I don’t get sex when I annoy you.”

[thebluenoteblog]

can you write something about Matty tkachuks dating someone with narcolepsy and they fall asleep at random times and Matty just being soft and making sure they're comfortable and in a safe place and checking their pulse and just being a softie

I’m sorry anon, I really tried to write this. I just don’t really feel comfortable writing about a condition that I don't personally have or know anyone who has so that I could get first hand information on it. I don’t want to write it wrong and offend anyone. I guess the only conditions that I feel comfortable posting about are anxiety, depression and bipolar disorder because they are the only ones I feel that I can accurately write.