#blurb weekend 521

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CONGRATS ON 800, LOVE! IM SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SUBMIT SOMETHING EARLIER (this is shemarmooresfedora but from another acct because mine has been shadowbanned for some reason)

i’ll do ❤️🤡💄🛏 please and thank you

maybe like spencer invites you to something as his date and you’re both crushing on each other but it’s not official until the reservation only booked one room

I LOVE YOU DORY!!! i am so sorry you're shadowbanned that is so weird? i hope this cheers you up a little! thank you for all the love and support, and for helping me create little Jo in Amoreena <3

cw: flirting, fake married, mutual pining, high school reunions, assault, love confessions, one bed, implied sex, kissing,

1.4K

When he got the invitation in the mail, he thought nothing of it. He left it in the pile on his counter and went off to work the way he always would. He hasn’t been back to his old high school since he was 13, the 15 year reunion was coming up and he was invited.

He wasn’t going to go. He never went to any event unless it was a CalTech alumni event. Because there he was respected, there he was Doctor Spencer Reid, the FBI’s asset and excellent graduate. He was a nobody, a kid and a loser in high school.

“You okay?” Y/N notices he’s quieter than normal, he’s staring off past his desk and she’s worried for him.

“Huh?” He turns to her, “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she whispers, “come get a coffee with me down at the kart?”

He nods and stands silently, following her out of the room and away from all their friends, in the elevator she knows he’s more comfortable.

“What’s going on, Spence?”

“My high school reunion is coming up, and I really want to go and prove to them that I’m not a dork anymore…” his voice is low and his eyes are fixated on the floor.

Her face drops, she pulls the emergency button and wraps herself around him. “You have never been a dork, Spencer. You have always been magnificent and they’re too dumb to see that.”

He holds her in return, settling as he rests his chin on her shoulder. She feels nice and warm, her hair smells like apples and her laundry detergent is all over her shirt.

“Would you come back to Vegas with me and pretend to be my girlfriend? Say things like that and make them think I’ve got it all?”

He cant see how much she smiles while they hug, “yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend for the day.”

—

She buys the nicest dress imaginable, they fly out to Vegas together and she’s so excited she forgot to ask for her own room. Or at least that’s what she tells him because she really wanted a chance to sleep with him, in more ways than one.

Even to just cuddle with Spencer Reid would be a gift, so she goes all out to seduce him. She looked impeccable, He was thinking it was her way of helping him show off… he was so clueless she was going to have to be the smart one when it came to getting him to see her as more than a friend. She wanted him, she was going to show him just how good she would be to him if she was his.

Her dress hugs her in all the right places, she wraps an arm around Spencer’s middle and holds him close. They walk in like they own the place, everyone is taking turns looking at them as they walk to the name tag table.

“Hi, Spener Reid,” he smiles, “and my plus one.”

“Hi,” Y/N waved at the woman behind the desk.

“Hello,” she smiles, “here are your name tags, Mr. and Mrs. Reid.”

“Oh we’re—“

“Thank you,” Y/N smiles, she takes the name tags from the woman. “Newlyweds, my rings getting resized, he’s still adjusting to the title.”

“Ah, my husband was the same, called it wedding bell shock,” she smiled, old enough to have a husband with shell-shock as well.

“Can I have a pen?” Y/N asks, “or a marker?”

“Here,” she hands her a sharpie.

Y/N leans onto the table to scratch out the Mr. and replace it with Dr. “He has 3 Ph.D.’s you know? My husband is the smartest man in the FBI.”

“Oh,” she looks shocked, “thank you for your service sir.”

He blushes and nods, “thank you.”

Y/N peels the sticker off and sticks it to Spencer's chest before leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, she gets lipstick on him. She smiles and wipes it off, “there, still cute.”

The rest of the night is much of the same; she hangs off him, telling all the people who used to bully him that she was so madly in love with him, he was super smart and he was so strong and sexy on the job.

She slips away from him to get a drink while he explains how profiling works to his crowd of new fans. She’s filling her cup with punch when a weird, balding man slides up beside her, his hand touching her waist. She looks at him quickly, recognizing his name from the worst childhood story Spencer ever shared with her.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” he tried to hit on her.

She puts her cup down calmly and takes his hand off her, bending his arm behind his back and slamming him face-first into the punch bowl. She pulls his face back up by his hair, “that was for touching me.”

Then she slams him onto the floor where he coughs out punch from his lungs. “And that was for what you did to my husband as a kid, he was a Kid! You may have peaked in high school, but at least Doctor Reid doesn’t have a widow's peak, like yours. He is the smartest, sexiest, and most wonderful man in the world and you're nothing but a loser.”

Spencer turns around at the sound of her voice, “oooo” echos around the gym as everyone looks at the scene unfolding. Patrick, the asshole quarterback that traumatized him as a child, was on the ground covered in red juice as he complained about a sore arm.

Y/N smiles at him and waves before rejoining Spencer, “he doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Spencer suggests and she is all too eager to skip out of the room with him, right past Patrick.

—

She slams him against the wall as soon as they’re inside the hotel room again, kissing him with more desperation than she’s ever felt in her life. She needed him, he was her last piece and then she’d be complete.

She breaks the kiss to move down his neck as she loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt. “Are you sure we can be friends after this?”

“I’d hope my husband was my best friend,” she whispers against his skin.

He pulls her away from his neck, hands on her cheeks so he can look at her and read her expressions as best as possible, “I’m serious, I don’t want to do this if it’s going to make working together hard.”

“You’re an idiot,” she smiles, “I have been in love with you for months Spencer. I want this, I have wanted you for so long…”

His breathing changes as she explains her feelings, leaning in to kiss his neck again and make her way down his chest. “I’ve thought about this for so long Spencer, you have no idea how many dirty thoughts I have about doing things like this with you.”

“I got 1 bed on purpose,” he gasps out, “I wanted to sleep beside you… I hoped—

She smiles against him, “I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you to get 2…”

“You’re really not kidding?” He sounds so desperate it’s almost sad.

She stops her kissing and looks at him again, “why is it so hard for you to believe all the things I’ve said about you tonight? I’m not just trying to impress them, I’m telling the whole fucking world that the person I am in love with is the smartest man they will ever meet. People should bow at your feet, Spencer, let me appreciate you for how incredibly wonderful you are and stop doubting my feelings.”

“You love me?” Tears well in his eyes and he feels like a complete idiot, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted you to admit it first,” she whispers, equally as embarrassed. “I have a huge crush on you Spence, it’s not just that I love you, I never want to stop. You’re so nice and kind and funny? And you make me smile every day and I laugh even on the worst days ever because you’re there, and when I think about the future and reunions and events like this that I have to go to one day, and all I want is to bring you along and show everyone that you’re mine.”

She rambled more than he did, “so please, will you unzip my dress and join me in our one bed, husband?”

“Absolutely, my beautiful wife,” he turns her around, moving her hair off her back, he kisses her shoulder softly.

He moves the zip down as slow as possible, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin as he did so. When he reached the end, she pushed the straps off her arms and let the dress fall to the floor.

Mission accomplished.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #blurb weekend 521 #800 celebration

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Would you do 49 with Mat Barzal? - justjosty

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @justjosty (I'm sorry) @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @heybarzy @gotpucks @annedub @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

49. Last night your feet were really cold, so I found some of your socks and put them on you.”

Warning: mentions of sex

Word Count: 759

_____________

You had to be at the meeting, even though you had no idea why. You just went where you were told, trying to listen enough so that you could respond when your name was called, but, given the fact that the agenda had nothing to do with your job, you were sure you didn’t have to pay attention. Sitting at the back of the room meant you had a complete view of the rest of the team, the Islanders all paying attention unlike you.

“Y/N?” you hear Trotz say, snapping you out of whatever daze you had fallen into. “Does that sound good?”

“Sorry, could you repeat it?” you ask, feeling the heat rush to your face, not helped by the boys chuckling at your obvious embarrassment, “I want to make sure I get everything down.”

“Next road trip, Sophia can’t come so you’ll be in charge of social media, following the players around and posting on Instagram,” he restates, not looking at you, but at some of the guys instead. “Mat and Tito volunteered to be spotlights if you want them to be.”

“Sounds great,” you say, hating every word that came out of him.

The rest of the meeting is spent with you trying not to have any sort of outburst that Mat, of all people, would volunteer for this.

As soon as the meeting was over, you pull him aside, away from where anyone could see you.

“Are you joking?” you hiss, clearly mad at him despite him seemingly not getting the message as he wraps his arms around your waist.

One of the biggest rules about working for the Isles was no dating the players, so you and Mat said whatever it was you were doing wasn’t dating. It totally was based on what the definition of dating was, but you weren’t calling it that.

“I haven’t made a joke in,” he stops, pretending to think, “Maybe an hour? Oh, wait, I just did,” he says, dipping down to kiss you.

You push him off, still unsure how Mat was this dense that he couldn’t tell now was not the time. Either that, or he just didn’t care. “Mat, what were you thinking, volunteering for me to follow you around while we’re on the road?”

“I was thinking you would already be in my room anyway so why not also get some snaps for private use?” he says, trying to act innocent. “Oh, come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I am not going to be in your room with you alone,” you tell him, still not giving in as he grips your waist tighter.

“But think about how well I treat you: I know exactly what to do that to make you scream my name, I know every curve, dimple, scar, and mark on your body to the point where I could draw you from memory, and I know for a fact that if I started kissing you right where your jaw meets your ear you would melt into my arms and there would be no turning back for you,” he says, gently tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the exact spot he was talking about. “Imagine that in a luxurious hotel room, where you’re given the opportunity to have it on film and get paid for it.”

“See, there, that just ruined it,” you tell him, pushing him off you. “Mathew, I cannot use social media privileges to make a sex tape with you on the road!”

“Fine,” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “But at least spend one night with me. Just you and me, lying next to each other. Come on, I even do you well then,” he pleads, his arms back on your waist. “Last night your feet got cold so I put some socks on you while you were sleeping.”

“You know, I didn’t remember putting those on, so that makes a lot of sense,” you tell him, Mat letting out a laugh. You finally give in, draping your arms around his shoulders. “Maybe. But you have to get going, you have to be on the ice in, like, five minutes.”

“Yeah, but, one more thing,” he tells you, kissing you one last time before the two of you had to go back to just being work acquaintances for the time being.

“Mat? Y/N?” you hear someone say, Mat practically launching you off him. The two of you saw Tito standing there, confused as to what he just saw.

“Fuck.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagines #blurb weekend 521 #new york islanders #new york islanders imagines

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I would like to request 25 with Josty and explicitly ask you to not have Cale involved in this 😇

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @justjosty (I should have made this more Cale centric just to annoy you) @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @annedub @zigzagsandzebras @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

25. “Kiss me.”

Warning: mentions of sex

Word Count: 451

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You had never seen Tyson so panicked before in your life. You watched him make a beeline from the girl he was talking to in the bar straight to you, his eyes wide, hands shaking. You were sure if a person could actually explode, he would have right then and there. He sits down next to you, not saying anything.

“Ok, are you going to tell me while you’re like this, or are you just going to expect me to guess?” you ask your boyfriend, resting your hand on his thigh.

“She was flirting with me,” he lets out, quick and short as if what he was telling you was the worst thing.

“So?”

“You’re not mad?”

“Were you flirting back?”

“I didn’t even know I was flirting with you before we started dating, do you really think I know the answer to that?”

You can’t help but laugh at him, knowing he was right. “I mean, you don’t try to flirt with anyone, you can’t control other people’s actions, so why would I be mad?”

Before Tyson could answer, you see his eyes go wide again. “Oh fuck, she found me.” You follow his gaze, a tall blonde walking towards the two of you with her eyes on Tyson. “What do I do?”

“You could kiss me,” you shrug. “Mark your territory.”

“That seems sexist.”

“It’s the most appropriate thing I can think of you doing while we are in public if you don’t want her to come any closer so either you shove your tongue down my throat right now or you have to talk to her again,” you tell him, Tyson’s mouth hanging open slightly.

“I need to ask you one thing before I do,” he says, taking in a deep breath once you give him the go ahead. “Can you talk like that to me when we get home? It’s...hot.”

You let out a laugh, deliberately draping yourself on Tyson to get things going, the girls pace slowing down noticeably out of the corner of your eye. You lean closer to him, whispering in his ear, “Looks like my mouth isn’t the only place your tongue is going to be tonight, now is it?”

He lets out a small laugh, cupping your cheek with his hand and finally kissing you, forgetting about the girl who was probably trying to get with him. He pulls away, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb on your cheek. “How long do we have to wait before we go home?”

“As long as it takes to close out our tabs and actually get home?” you think, Tyson grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the booth to do so.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #blurb weekend 521 #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines

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For your blurb weekend 😜

Prompt 61 and 67 for Matthew Tkachuk

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @annedub @gotpucks @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

61. “I’ve waited so long for this.”

67. “I want to start a family of our own.”

Word Count: 545

____________________

“Hello, there, pretty girl,” Matthew coos, your daughter in his arms as he sat down next to you in the hospital bed. She lets out a yawn, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp at nothing before settling into her fathers arms. “Y/N, she’s perfect.” He rests his forehead against you, gazing into your eyes. “You’re perfect.”

You kiss him, resting your head on his shoulder as you stare at her, still in disbelief that you two were parents. You agreed with Matthew that she was perfect, positive that there was no other way she could be. “We still need a name.”

Matthew takes in a deep breath, letting out a steady exhale as he just stares at your daughter. “I’ve waited so long for this, to start a family of our own,” he tells you. You weren’t sure if he was ignoring what you said, or if he didn’t hear you, but either way, you knew he was overwhelmed with what you hoped was joy.

“Well, considering we weren’t planning on her, you’ve been waiting less than nine months,” you joke with him, pulling out a small laugh from him as he can’t take his eyes off her.

“She’s so tiny,” Matthew says.

“But what’s her name?” you ask. You knew you should have talked about this before, but you didn’t know if you were having a boy or a girl, that conversation just being pushed to the back burner again and again when you couldn’t think of a name that you could agree on.

“Tiny,” Matthew says, you still not sure if he was listening to you.

“No, her name is not going to be Tiny Tkachuk, give me our daughter,” you say, carefully taking her in your own arms while Matthew whines about letting her go.

“Fine, I’ll be serious, I want her back,” Matthew panics, his arms extended out for your daughter despite the fact that you weren’t going to give her back.

“Not until we have a name.”

“I can’t believe you’re holding our daughter hostage from me until we come up with a name. I want to hold her, I love her.”

“Please, you need to learn what hostage means. We need a name for her,” you say, cooing at your daughter as she starts fussing before falling asleep. You both were already so in love with her, Matthew refusing to look anywhere besides you holding her. “Ivy?”

Matthew shakes his head, “No, she’s not an Ivy. What about,” Matthew hesitates, trying to think of a name. “Quinn?”

“We’re not naming her after your brother’s best friend,” you laugh, that connection seemingly not made by Matthew before he gave his suggestion. “What about Eloise? We could call her Ellie.”

“Eloise Tkachuk,” Matthew says out loud. “I like it. Now can I have her back?”

“Are you saying you like the name because you actually like it for her or just because you’re being whiney and want to hold her?”

“I want to hold Eloise.” You gave in, hearing him call your daughter by her name. You hand Ellie over to Matthew, him immediately looking like he was never going to let her go. “God, I didn’t think I could ever love someone as much as I loved you.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #blurb weekend 521 #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines

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Could I get 23 and 33 for Barzy pls

Happ blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @heybarzy @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @gotpucks @zigzagsandzebras @annedub @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

I chose violence with this one not sorry

23. “I want you, and only you.”

33. “I’ll protect you.”

Word Count: 559

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“I don’t know how you could stand there and let him flirt with you when you made it pretty clear that you weren’t even interested in him,” Mat whines on your walk back from the bar, not noticing how annoyed you were with him. He was acting like a hero when he shouldn’t have been. “I mean, I can’t believe I had to step in and help you.”

“You didn’t,” you snap at him, catching him off guard. “I was interested in him. That’s why he was flirting with me, because I was flirting with him.”

When your friend group found out you and Mat had started seeing each other, they were worried for what would have happened if or when you two broke up. They were even more worried when you did break up, what it meant for the sake of the group, despite the fact that you two insisted that you were going to stay friends. And you did stay friends. You and Mat were still best friends, moving on as if you had never dated in the first place.

But now, this was the third time Mat had seen you with another guy while you were out, not hesitating to decide to insert himself in the situation he didn’t need to be in.

“What? Oh, come on, I know how you act when you’re flirting with a guy.”

“Do you?” you ask him, followed by him giving you a confident, ‘yes.’ “Really? So what do I do?”

“You, you,” he starts, knowing that he dug himself into a whole. “You smile at him, you laugh at everything he says, even if it isn’t funny. You run your hands through your hair because you know that fucking collar bone of yours drives me crazy.” He stops, both of you shocked that he just said that. That isn’t how you flirt with anyone, that’s how you acted around him when you were together. “Fuck.”

“Mathew, you cannot keep doing this. We broke up for a reason. Stop interfering when I’m with another guy.”

“I’m just trying to protect you,” he tries to defend himself.

“From what? From who? What could you possibly be protecting me from? Other guys? Why, Mat?”

“Fuck, Y/N, you think it’s easy watching you flirt with another guy? Just because we broke up that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you,” he spits out.

You stand there, quietly, trying to process what he just told you. “You never told me you loved me.”

Mat scoffs, looking down at the ground, shaking his head. “Of course I did. I do. You haven’t noticed that I haven’t looked at another girl since we broke up? I want you, and only you.”

“I didn’t,” you tell him. You could have sworn that he was at least enjoying himself since you stopped dating.

Mat raises his eyebrows, not believing what you were saying. “Great. That’s just great. So I have to sit around and watch you flirt with every guy in existence, while you, the one who was supposed to be my best friend, didn’t even notice that I was miserable while it was happening.”

“What do you want from me, Mat?”

“I guess, nothing,” he tells you, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Nothing at all,” before turning on his heels, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagines #blurb weekend 521 #new york islanders #new york islanders imagines

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Can I request number 80 and 81 with Mathew Barzal?

Happy blurb weekend!

Shoutout, yet again because I am the worst, to @slapshot-to-the-heart for coming up with this idea

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @heybarzy @gotpucks @annedub @zigzagsandzebras @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

80. “What was your childhood like?”

81. “You looked so cute when you were little.”

Word Count: 840

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Meeting your boyfriend’s parents was terrifying. Meeting your boyfriend’s parents by flying to the other side of the continent was something that you were dreading, not knowing the area well enough to even know where you could run to in the event that they hated you.

“Ok, you need to give me the rundown. What do I need to know?” you turn to Mat while you were waiting to get off the plane. Granted, this was a conversation you could have had during the 10 hours it took you to get from New York to Vancouver, but here you were having it now instead.

“What do you want to know, I feel like you already know everything,” Mat shrugs, handing you your carry on.

“What was your childhood like? Anything.”

“Uh, close with my parents, close with my sister, pretty normal, I guess.”

You sigh, wishing Mat could give you a little more. “People with normal childhoods don’t go on to be professional hockey players, bubs.”

He didn’t hear you, both of you going out to meet his parents and sister who were apparently already at the airport waiting for you. They immediately jumped into conversation with you, you trying your best to keep up as they asked you question after question, Mat also piping in with his own answers about what he knew about you.

By the time you got back to his house, you were exhausted. Somehow, the simple act of his parents and sister playing a round of 20 questions about your life tired you out more than it should have, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep.

The next morning, you were awake before Mathew, heading down to the kitchen at the smell of pancakes and coffee being made by his mom.

“How’d you sleep last night?” she asks you, sliding a cup of coffee over to you.

“Fine. I’ve never heard Mat snore like that before,” you tell her, taking a sip of the coffee.

“You two haven’t spent a night together before?” she asks.

You were thankful her back was turned to you, the heat rushing to your cheeks and an obviously panicked expression because of what she was insinuating on your face. “Um, we have,” you sheepishly admit, “He’s just never snored like that before.”

“Oh he used to snore all the time when he slept in that bed of his. Every night when he was little we could tell if he was still awake or if he was watching some sort of hockey video based on the chainsaw he sounded like,” his mom tells you, laughing along with you.

“What was he like when he was little?” you ask, figuring she would tell you more than he would.

“A terror,” she says, point blank. “Come watch this, I have something I think you’ll like.” She leaves the kitchen for a few minutes, you left alone making the pancakes for everyone else before they wake up. “This is what Mathew was like.”

She turns off the stove, putting down a photo album in front of you. It looked like it was from before Liana was born, just Mat in the photos. There were pictures of him in skates, wearing a helmet that was too big for him and a stick that was taller than him in his hands. One picture was him sitting in a high chair, what looked to be pasta sauce all over his face with a bowl held over his hand, the other, dirty little hand reaching towards whoever had a camera. Another photo was him sitting on the ground, his face red and scrunched as he was throwing a temper tantrum, what was either a puck or a rock in his hands, but you couldn’t tell.

His mom laughed as she looked over your shoulder at that one. “He was mad we told him that he couldn’t eat it.”

“What’s going on?” Mat asks, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, clearly having just woken up by the way he was rubbing his eyes.

“Your mom was showing me some old baby pictures,” you tell him as he groans at the prospect of you seeing whatever else was in that album. “You were so cute when you were little.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, his hands snaking their way around your waist. Mat rested his head on your shoulder, slowly rocking back and forth as he kissed your cheek. “What about now?”

“You’re pretty cute now, too,” you tell him, holding his face with one hand and giving him a kiss.

“Should I leave you two alone?” his mom asks you, interrupting the moment you probably shouldn’t have been happening with her smiling at you like that.

“No, I need to see what else is in this album,” you say.

“There’s a few of him taking a bath,” she tells you, sliding it closer to her to find the pictures.

“Ok, no. That’s enough,” Mat protests, taking you back upstairs, you and his mother laughing despite his clear annoyance.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagines #blurb weekend 521 #new york islanders #new york islanders imagines

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#67 & #79 with sir chucky please, i beg you 😭

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @stlbluesbrat21 @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @gotpucks @annedub @stars-canucks @zigzagsandzebras @beauvibaby

WARNING: this is smut, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (wrap it up fam), don't interact with this if you're under 18 please

This blurb would not have happened without @nazdaddy who I love with all my heart

67. "I want to start a family of our own..."

79. "I never imagined that someone's heart beat could sound so amazing"

Word Count: 1045

______________________

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Matthew asks you, a cocky grin on his face at his realization. “You saw me talking to her, and now you think she’s going to, what, seduce me? Pry me away from you?”

“That is not true,” you tell him, your hands on his chest as he pinned you against the wall, his hands on your hips holding you tight. “And even if I was,” you whisper in his ear, “don’t act like you weren’t jealous when I was talking to him.”

His grip tightens on you, digging into your skin as he took in a sharp breath. “Oh seeing you talking to another guy drove me crazy,” he says, kissing you hard, “I wanted nothing more than to take you home and fuck the thought of that guy right out of you.”

Matthew starts trailing kisses down your jaw, a moan escaping your lip as his hands worked their way around to grab your ass, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. You look to the side, pulling Matthew by his curls away from sucking on your neck. “Who said we have to wait until we get home when there’s a perfectly good bathroom right there?”

You didn’t even have a chance to process getting from the hallway of the bar you were in to the bathroom itself, Matthew locking the door while you stood in the middle of the single-person room.

“You really want to do this? You want me to fuck right here in this bathroom?” Matthew asks you, your arms draped on his shoulders, his hands back on your waist.

“Yes,” you tell him, waiting for his own response. You could feel him growing hard against your leg, straining the fabric of his jeans in anticipation for what you two were about to do.

“Good, me too,” he breathes out, lifting you up and pressing you against the wall, his lips finding yours as he starts trying to undo the button of your own jeans to take them off you. He puts you down, his lips never leaving your skin as both of you, rather ungracefully, take off your pants, Matthew tossing his aside, nearly hitting the toilet.

Matthew was muttering something against your skin, your hips grinding against him while he tried to balance you in your position against the wall.

“Matty what are you saying?” you moan, feeling his tip against your entrance, your knees going weak with anticipation as you grew impatient for him.

“I want to start a family of our own,” he tells you, biting your lip, a moan escaping your lips as he went inside you, Matthew’s moans matching yours, “I can’t wait to fuck a baby into you, make sure everyone knows your mine.”

‘Who says you have to wait,’ you think to yourself, catching yourself off guard by the unknown desire crossing your mind as Matthew’s kisses worked his way down your jaw, back to your collarbone to finish what he started when you were out in the hallway. You could feel your heart racing, the orgasm already about to wash over you as Matthew continued. “Then do it,” you tell him, Matthew’s head shooting up and looking at you.

“What?”

“Do it,” you repeat, your hand finding the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath it and squeezing his side, “Fuck a baby into me right now.”

He stares at the wall, stunned as you start leaving your own marks on his neck, a moan escaping from him as you sucked on his skin, your bodies pressed against each other as the fact that you two were in public slipped away from your mind.

“Oh, you’d look so hot pregnant. I can’t wait to see you carry our baby,” he breathes out, pressing you harder against the wall, the hem of your shirt starting to slide up as you could feel the paint against your back. “You’re gonna be so full when I’m done.”

“Matthew,” you moan, swearing you heard someone on the other side of the door trying to get in, not fully comprehending what was happening other than Matthew inside of you.

“Who are you thinking about?” he asks you, his eyes dark as he licks his lips.

“You, Matty,” you whine as his hands gripped your ass, his nails digging into your flesh and no doubt leaving marks. You felt him moan against your skin as your one hand left marks down his back, the other still on his side, “I’m thinking about you.”

“You only think about me when I’m fucking you, baby?” he asks.

“Yes, Matthew,” you moan.

Matthew could feel your heart racing as you finished, feeling you tighten around him. He watched as your eyes rolled back with your mouth parting open, you back arching and pressing yourself against him, pushed Matthew to his own orgasm as he came inside you with a throaty groan. The two of you stayed there for a minute, catching your breath with your foreheads pressed against each other. “I never imagined that someone's heart beat could sound so amazing," he says, kissing you again before putting you back down on the ground.

“We should get back out there before everyone notices we’re gone,” you tell him, not wanting to let go of him.

He holds his pants in his hand, Matthew smirking at you, “Or we could stay here and I could fuck you again. Really make sure you’re pregnant,” he jokes.

You flash him a devilish grin, cleaning yourself up as best you could before slipping on your pants to confirm that you were done there for now. “Or,” you counter, “we could wait until we get home, get in our bed,” you walk towards him, putting your hands on his chest and getting up on your toes before whispering to him, “and you fuck me raw and hard as many times as you want.”

You poke your head out of the bathroom, the coast clear for both of you to sneak out despite Matthew lagging behind. “Oh, we’re going home right now then,” he tells you, ignoring his teammates calls for the two of you to finally rejoin the group. “I’m getting you pregnant tonight if it’s the last thing I do.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #blurb weekend 521 #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

76 with Joel Farabee?

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @hotgirlhockey @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @stars-canucks @beauvibaby @airplaneanon @gotpucks @annedub

76. “I named my little plant after you.”

Warning: mentions of sex

Word Count: 540

__________________

You had been with Joel for a few months now, getting to the point where you were discussing your past relationships no matter how awkward it was going to be. You both agreed that it would be better to talk about the dirty laundry now instead of letting it all come out later and catch you off guard, especially since your past boyfriends still lived in the city, as far as you knew.

You had already been through how many past partners you had, one night stands, short weird flings, etc, none of it seeming too awful.

Joel apparently used his internet searching skills to find a questionnaire of things to ask your partner about their past partners, the sheet of paper he so proudly printed out sitting between you at your kitchen table. “Ok, what about this one: Who was your first kiss?”

“It was a guy named Paul, drunk and on the kitchen counter of my friend's kitchen,” you tell him, shuddering at the memory. It wasn’t your proudest moment, but at least it’s a funny story to tell. “You?”

“I think it was,” Joel starts, trying to figure it out, “Maybe when I was five?”

“No way.”

“I don’t remember her name but it was like one of those ‘kid relationships’ that adults force on their children one summer at the pool my parents brought us to. I think we kissed and then she ran away because she was afraid of cooties.” You burst out laughing at the image forming in your mind, Joel in the summer of 2005 pecking a girl on the lips for her to escape screaming moments later. “That’s not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s hilarious,” you tease him. “Oh, this one: weirdest place you’ve ever done something sexual?”

“In one of the bathrooms of the Wells Fargo concourse.”

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open at the fact that he would either do it his place of work, or at a sixers game, your mind running with possibilities of context. “If you’re willing to share that story later, I would love to hear that,” you offer, Joel nodding to encourage you to tell him yours. “Mine was the backseat of Paul’s car after a date we went on.”

“You couldn’t even wait to get home?” Joel teases, you feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “God, that’s hot.”

You laugh at his comments, going back to scanning the questions. “Ok, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve done in a relationship?”

Joel’s face turns red, gesturing behind you. “That cactus you bought me? I named it after you so I’d always have a Y/N around.”

“What?” you yell, “Joel, that’s not weird. Oh my god, that’s so cute.” You can’t help but gush, not stopping to freak out despite the absent look in Joel’s eyes as you talked to him, or rather, at him. “Joel?”

“Sorry, I was, um,” he says, shaking his head back to reality, swallowing hard, “I was thinking about fucking you in the backseat of my car. I really wish I was Paul right now.”

You smirk at him, letting a small laugh escape from your lips. “In due time, my guy,” you tell him, his eyes going wide.

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagines #blurb weekend 521 #philadephia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

28 and 46 w matty??

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @stars-canucks @beauvibaby @annedub @gotpucks

28. “Hold me. Please.”

46. “Your skin is so soft.”

Word Count: 591

______________________________

“Hold me, please,” you asked Matthew, having knocked on his door, a sobbing mess that he was expected to encounter this early in the morning on one of the few nights when he was supposed to be sleeping in. Matthew did as you asked, pulling you close to him while he did his best to comfort you even though he had no clue why you were crying in the first place.

“Y/N, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You sat quietly for a minute, almost too embarrassed to even say why you were crying. “Dalton’s been writing letters to his ex-girlfriend.”

“That seems old fashioned, but why?”

“They’re love letters.”

“Oh.”

You had been over your boyfriend’s place when you found one of her own letters sitting on the coffee table, just put in the open for anyone and everyone to see. You had never gotten a love letter of your own, at least not the old handwritten ones that you hear about in movies, the hero male trying to woo the beautiful woman who, despite telling him she wanted nothing to do with him, eventually falls for him and they live happily ever after.

“Then I found the one he was writing, talking about he would never stop thinking about what it was like when they were together, wishing that he could touch her and hold her one last time, that if he misses the idea of being so in love with a person that nothing they could do could make someone love them less. He even told her ‘your skin is so soft, the feeling of it against mine was a feeling I don’t think I could ever forget,’” you quote to him.

“Do people actually talk like that?” Matthew asks you.

“Sometimes when you’re in love, there aren’t enough words to really say how you feel.”

_________________

You had just gotten home from work, checking your mail from the night before to see if there was anything interesting or just another letter from a credit card company asking you to open an account with them.

Only one piece of mail was worth your interest, Matthew’s chicken scratch on the envelope covering the piece of paper inside.

‘Y/N,

You told me last night that you had never gotten a love letter. You also said that sometimes when you love someone, it can be hard to find the words to really tell that person you love how you’re feeling.

Well, now I’m going to try.

Dalton wasn’t good enough for you, and I’m glad you see that now. I wish you didn’t have to find out the way you did, because seeing you cry was more painful than any injury I’ve gotten.

God, this is probably the worst love letter you could have gotten, but you already knew I’m not the best with words.

I remember the day I met you, seeing you at the bar with Dalton. I knew you had a boyfriend, given how he was practically attached to you, but I still knew that I had to get to know you despite falling in love with you right then and there. Every day you came over to my place, or texted me to hang out, called me just to have someone to talk to, I fell more in love with you.

You just broke up with Dalton, so I’m not asking for anything right now. But when you’re ready, if you want. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N.

Love,

Matthew.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #blurb weekend 521 #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames #i forgot the gif the first time asdijfaosidjf

[bqstqnbruin]

it's your favorite bitch that you love to slander coming in with a request🤪 could you do 39 and 41 with Matty, I feel like it'd work bc I'm the clumsiest person to have graced this planet😌

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @tkachuk-yeah @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @gotpucks @annedub @zigzagsandzebras @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

39. “I wanna know everything about you.”

41. “Let me see your scars.”

Word Count: 384

_________________________________________

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Matthew called from his bed while you were finishing up in the bathroom.

“Yeah, I promise I’m fine, you’ve asked me three times already,” you call back to him.

You were staying over Matthew’s for the night, getting ready to go to sleep. He was more worried about you than normal, having just gotten into a car accident which resulted in you breaking your wrist. Luckily, that was the worst thing that happened to you, other than your car being undrivable now, and a few scratches here and there. The person who hit you got off unscathed, their car just needed minor repairs. You weren’t the best in physics, but you were sure something was off given how hard they hit you, but who were you to say otherwise.

“I’m just worried about you.”

You crawl into bed next to him, using your good arm to cup his cheeks and give him a kiss. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve broken something, and lord knows you’ve had your fair share of injuries.”

“How many bones have you broken?” Matthew asks. “Do you have scars, cuts, shit like that? I really don’t know anything about you, do I?” he panics.

You laugh at him, putting your hand on his thigh to try to calm him down. “I’ve broken my leg twice, sprained my other ankle so bad that they had to put me in a hard cast like they do when it’s broken, and I think this is the second or third time I’ve broken or sprained my wrist.”

Matthew stares at you, his eyes scanning your body up and down. “How?” he laughs. “I mean, I knew you were clumsy, but this seems ridiculous.”

“I’ll leave if you make fun of me,” you taunt him, pouting at him and pretending like his comments actually hurt.

Matthew flashes you a devilish smile. “I’m the one who drove you here. You don’t have a car.”

“Fuck, am I stuck with you?” You both laugh, Matthew putting his arm around you and pulling you close to him. He kisses the top of your head, his fingers running up and down your arm, hitting the cast every once in a while. “I think I’m happy here.”

“I’m happy you’re here.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #blurb weekend 521 #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine

[bqstqnbruin]

How about 40 & 86 with Tyson Jost? :)

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Tagging: @besthockeyfics @justjosty @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @heybarzy @annedub @zigzagsandzebra @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

40. "Don't leave yet."

86. "I love waking up next to you."

Warnings: mentions of sex

Word Count: 472

_______________________

“Tyson, I should get going,” you tell him, sitting up from his bed. It was already late, Tyson convincing you multiple times to stay and you giving in each time when he flashes that smile of his that he knew made you melt. You hated that he was impossible to say no to, but there was something about sitting there with his arms wrapped around you that you just couldn’t resist.

“No,” he whines, pulling you back down against him, a giggle escaping from your lips, “Don’t leave yet. I want to wake up next to you, I love waking up next to you.”

“Tyson,” you playfully scold him, “You leave for a road trip tomorrow, I’m sure you have to do things in the morning that don’t involve me.”

He pouts at you, “But everything I want to do before I leave involves you.” He buries his face in your shoulder, you feeling his lips against your skin as you melted into him. You knew you should leave so he wouldn’t be distracted before he had to leave, knowing that he had his rituals before games and that none of them involved you. It didn’t make you mad, he had them before you knew him.

“Yeah, like what?” you ask him.

“Well, for starters, waking up next to you. Morning sex, shower sex, sex on my kitchen counter,” he lists, earning a light smack on his arm from you. You lean up to kiss his jaw line while he continues. “And then you can just sit on the counter, I’ll make you one of the best breakfasts you’ve ever had given my ability to make eggs and only eggs,” he jokes, “and you’ll tell me about what you dreamt about, which would be me of course. And I’ll admire you because you’re stunning, and think about how lucky I am to have you.”

His voice got low at the last part, a lazy smile on his face, letting go of you with one arm and using it to tilt your head up to him, kissing you. “You do realize you’re making it really hard to say no to you, right?”

“It’s part of my charm.” The two of you sit there for a minute, Tyson playing with your fingers. “So will you stay with me until the morning? Please?”

“What will I wear tomorrow, Tys?”

“Well I wouldn’t mind if you wore nothing,” he grins, another smack on his arm from you, “I have clothes you can borrow, you’ll probably end up stealing them anyway.” You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes because you knew he was right. You sink further into him, not planning on getting up for a little longer. “Does your silence mean you’re staying?”

“Me telling you right now, ‘yes’ means I’m staying,” you tell him.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagines #blurb weekend 521 #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

100 + nathan mackinnon please 🤍

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @stars-canucks @beauvibaby @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @annedub

100. “I’m yours.”

Word Count: 678

____________________

The Avs were doing an auction night for some sort of fundraiser for one of the charities they regularly donated to. You had no idea which one it was, not listening to Nate when he told you about it. He asked you to go with him as his date since a lot of the guys were bringing their own significant others, he figured since you were his best friend, he could bring you.

“Wait, so, your contribution to this is auctioning off a dinner made by you?” you ask him, taking Nate’s arm as he escorted you into whatever venue the auction was taking place in.

“Yeah, a bunch of the single guys did; Tyson, Cale, JT. We all auctioned off a date with ourselves. It should make a lot of money,” he tells you, sending a wink your way.

“Yeah, keep being cocky like that and you’re sure to be the biggest item of the night,” you tease him, not about to tell him that the wink sent a shiver down your spine. You liked Nate, sure, but you weren’t about to pay however much money for him to make you a mediocre dinner when you were over his place enough that he already did that for you for free.

Nate leaves you to go to his place, you grabbing a paddle and getting ready to bid on absolutely nothing since you really didn’t have the money to spend. Nate had promised you a night of good food and free drinks, and that’s why you were there.

The auction starts first, the guys having bought things like memberships to local fitness clubs, tickets to the Broncos, Nuggets, Rockies and their own games, spa packages, someone even got a weekend trip in Aspen, all of which were way too expensive for you to bid on.

They finally got to the dates, Cale going first, then JT, and last was Nate. The bidding start at $50, the same as Cale and JT, someone bidding immediately. Before you could keep track of who was saying what, the bidding was up to $500. One girl had been in a bidding war with another, one of them dropping out. You looked at Nate, visibly uncomfortable by what was going on.

You hated watching him like that, but you hated watching girls bid over your best friend more.

“$510,” you call out, clearly caught off guard by the lack of thinking you did before yelling out a number.

“$520,” the girl who thought she won before yells, you now entering into a bidding war with her, instead.

“$600,” she yells after back and forth between the two of you.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter, trying to remember how much money you had in your bank account to begin with. You look at Nate, panicking as the auctioneer starts counting off to let him go to her. “$700.”

She glares at you, bowing out by your hundred dollar increase despite you probably needing to borrow at least two hundred of that from Nate himself. You were really about to pay $700 for a boy whose couch you fell asleep on at least once a week.

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” Nate asks you once he finally finds you. You try to get out an answer, but he cuts you off instead. “Oh, come on, Y/N, I know you well enough to know when you’re jealous. Admit it.”

“Fine, ok?” you snap at him, starting to pace. “I was. I didn’t like the thought of another girl buying a date with you.”

“Good.”

You turn to him, clearly stunned. “What?”

“Good. I didn’t want to go out with her. I’ve been wanting to go out with you for a while, and now that you’ve paid for me, I’m yours,” he says, extending his arm for you to link up with him.

“That makes this sound illegal, you know that right?” you ask him as the two of you head out.

“What’s the fun of life if you don’t break a rule every now and then?”

#nate mackinnon #nate mackinnon imagines #blurb weekend 521 #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagines #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

For blurb weekend, can i request #37 (you smell so nice) with joel farabee? ❤

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @hotgirlhockey @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @airplaneanon @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @gotpucks @annedub @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

37. "You smell so nice."

Word Count: 1190

_____________________

September, 2018

Freshman weekend meant heading out to the Cape and getting drunk, the unofficial start to the school year that everyone was excited for, one of the only times besides graduation where the entire class would be together. Legend has it that if you kissed someone while the bonfire was burning, you were destined to be with them forever.

You didn’t believe that in the slightest, but your roommate, Charlie, had heard about it from her older brother, who was kissed by a girl when he was sitting by the bonfire and later married her and are now expecting their first child together. Apparently, his best friend also found the love of their life through the kiss at the bonfire, making Charlie believe every word of it.

“It’s just a coincidence,” you tell her, having only heard it from her. You had no reason to assume it was actually a school-wide legend since Charlie was the only one who seemed to know about it. If it really was a true school-wide legend, more people would know.

“I’m telling you, tonight we’re going to meet some guys and we’re going to kiss them, and then we’re going to be in love with them forever.” You sigh, sipping the beer she had thrusted in your hand as she continued to babble, you not listening to her in the slightest.

You looked around the beach, students way more drunk than you, too drunk considering this was an unofficial school event, but who were you to be the fun police and stop everyone from enjoying themselves. Across the fire, you saw a group of boys huddled together, also looking like they were scoping out the crowd of their classmates. You were sure they were the freshmen on the hockey team, following the new signees and the teams standing every year since they last won the national championship when you were 9 years old.

“What about them? Go talk to them,” Charlie encourages you, gesturing over to the hockey players who were apparently already paying attention to you.

“No,” you shake your head, looking into your now almost empty cup. “You can go say hi, I’m going to get more beer.”

The two of you part ways, you heading over to get more alcohol while Charlie goes up to the group of guys, one of them taking immediate interest in her and pulling her off to do what you hoped was something consensual and safe. You didn’t notice another one of them break off from the group and go up to you, however.

“I’m Joel,” he extends his hand out. Judging by the look in his eyes, he was a few drinks in, not too far gone that he wouldn’t remember the night, but just enough that you knew he wasn’t sober in the slightest.

You laugh, shaking his hand and introducing yourself, it feeling weirdly formal considering the state of your surroundings.

“So, uh,” he starts, the two of you walking back over to the bonfire, sitting right where you started with Charlie, “Your friend seems pretty confident.”

“More like desperate,” you say. “She has it in her head that the guy she hooks up with tonight is destined to be her end all, be all man,” you explain.

He looks at you confused, sipping his own drink before he asks, “Do you think that, too?”

“Oh of course!” you tell him, praying that he was catching on to your sarcasm. “Whoever I kiss tonight is going to be planning a wedding with me when we wake up tomorrow.”

He laughs so hard he nearly spits out his beer, both of you unable to control your outburst. You fell into an easy conversation as the night went on. The fire started to die down, Charlie and Joel’s teammate still nowhere in sight, the chill of the sea breeze blowing in and sending a shiver down your spine. Joel notices your shaking, taking off his own jacket and resting it on your shoulders, leaving his arm around and pulling you closer to him for what you had no doubt he would claim was ‘warmth.’ You didn’t mind though. In fact, you liked it.

“You know,” whisper, getting closer to him, “Considering we’ve been sitting by a fire for a few hours, you don’t smell like it. You actually smell really nice.”

“Is that your way of telling me you want me to kiss you? Fulfill your little ‘destiny fantasy?’” he jokes, his forehead pressed against yours as he ghosted your lips.

“Looks like we’ve got a wedding to plan,” you tell him, reaching up to his jaw and cupping his cheek, kissing him. It was soft and sweet at first, feeling him swipe your bottom lip with his tongue, smiling in the kiss.

“I can’t wait.”

January 2020

You didn’t hate BU, but you felt like you were meant to go to Temple, transferring there after your first semester of college and never looking back to Boston. You missed it, though, Boston being very different from Philly, but BU just wasn’t the school for you.

“Wait, so your roommate convinced you to kiss a guy at this bonfire and told you that the two of you would be married in a few years? That’s insane,” Rachel told you when you recounted Freshman Weekend to her. You were out to dinner with some of your friends to ring in the second semester of your sophomore year.

“Oh, I know. I didn’t see Joel the rest of the semester, and something tells me that I’m never going to see him again since, you know, he’s in Boston, I think, and I’m here.”

You go on with your dinner, the restaurant getting more crowded as the night went on. “Hey, don’t look, but there are some really cute guys over there,” Rachel tells you.

Naturally disobeying her, you turn around, gasping when you see who was also looking at you. “Oh, my god,” you mutter to yourself, getting up and going over to him. “Joel, hi,” you greet him, his arms wrapping around you in a warm hug.

“What are you doing here in Philly?” he asks you, pulling away but not letting go of you, searching your face as if the answer to his question was written there.

“I transferred to Temple, like three semesters ago. What are you doing here in Philly?”

“I signed with the Flyers at the beginning of the season.”

You didn’t know what to say. The boy you admittedly been thinking about way too often living in the same city as you, the boy who gave you his jacket during Freshman Weekend that was currently draped along the back of your chair, the boy who, according to legend, was supposed to be the one you ended up spending your life with, was standing in front of you in a different city than the one you met in.

“I guess we really are planning a wedding,” you joke, referencing the night you met.

“How about I take you on a date, first?” he suggests, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“Deal.”

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagines #blurb weekend 521 #philadelphia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

30, 6, and 12 from the prompt list w matty 👀

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @annedub @zigzagsandzebras @gotpucks @stars-canucks @beauvibaby

30. “Marry me.”

6. “I want you to be a part of my future.”

12. “I have an extra ticket... would you like to go with me?”

Word Count: 451

______________________

You open your door, not expecting to see your best friend and her roommate standing there, in the apartment you shared with Matthew, to welcome you, despite you knowing she couldn’t have gotten in there without a key. You look to Matthew, a stupid smirk on his face as he hands everything you were carrying over to them, not listening to your protests and pleads for him to tell you what was happening.

“So you know how I have a ticket to go to St. Louis to see my parents soon?” Matthew asks you, standing outside your room, which, for some reason, he didn’t want to let you into just yet.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I have an extra ticket. Do you want to go with me?”

“Sure, but why?” you ask him. Because of your job, Matthew understood that he couldn’t always have you go with him when he was seeing his parents, normally only asking you to come when it was for something special.

“Well, hopefully, we’ll be celebrating something.”

“Are you going to let me in on what that is?” you ask him, getting slightly irritated by the way he was dancing around whatever it was he wanted to tell you.

Matthew didn’t remember the last time he felt this nervous, knowing that it was going to trip him up, but thankful that he was able to wrangle your best friend into helping him. “Our future. I want you to be part of my future,” he tells you, taking your hand and finally leading you into your room.

“Is there a case in which I wouldn’t be?” you ask before taking in the scene around you. There were candles lit everywhere, hopefully the work of your friends and not Matthew having lit them a while ago and leaving them unattended, which you wouldn’t put past him. Your favorite flowers were sitting on the bed, one of those champagne buckets that you thought you could only get at a restaurant sitting next to your bed. “Matthew?” you ask him, already knowing what he was about to do.

You look over to him, already down on one knee with his grandmother’s ring in his hands, holding it up to you. “If you said no when I asked if you’ll marry me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out, your chest heaving as you held back tears.

“Y/N?”

You stutter, realizing you hadn’t given him an answer given how overwhelmed with joy you were. “Yes, oh my god, yes,” you tell him, letting him slip the ring onto your finger, getting up and kissing you.

“She said yes!” Matthew yells, your friend and her roommate coming in to congratulate you. “She said yes.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #blurb weekend 521 #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

May I request number 91 with Matthew Tkachuk, please? Thank you!

Happy blurb weekend!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @stlbluesbrat21 @stars-canucks @dembenchboys @beauvibaby @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @zigzagszandzebra @annedub @gotpucks

91. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

Word Count: 850

_____________________

You weren’t scared. You were terrified. Those are different. You and Matthew sat in front of your laptop, the cursor hovering over the FaceTime button so you could call your parents to tell them your news.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Matthew asks you, noticing the way you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your tell signalling to him that you were probably going to throw up if the nerves got worse. “We don’t have to tell them now.”

“No, no,” you tell him, taking a deep breath. “We already told your parents, we have to tell mine now, too.”

“And my parents were excited.”

“And it’s too late in the day for my parents to get in the car and come kill us,” you joke. “Why does it feel like we’re about to tell them we did something wrong?”

Matthew laughs, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Because in their eyes, we technically did.” You look at him, absolutely panicked at his words. “Hey, don’t worry. They’re going to be happy about it eventually, right?’

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say, pressing the call button and waiting for your parents face’s to show up on your screen.

“Because we’re about to tell them or for other reasons?” he whispers, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before your parents finally answer.

“Hi sweetie,” you mom says, followed by a monotonous, “Matthew.”

You were two seconds from running from the computer and going to vomit. There was nothing that could be worse than this. “H-hi, mom, dad,” you stammer out.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N,” Matthew greets them. “Y/N and I wanted to tell you something.”

You parents wait for you to tell them, not giving you anything as to how they felt in anticipation. Matthew was the only one smiling in the call, making you even more nervous to tell them. “You’re going to be grandparents, we’re having a baby,” you spit out, not sure if you just wanted to say it or if you were to actually throw up at the thought of saying it any faster.

Matthew holds us the picture of the sonogram to the camera, your parents leaning in to see it, “There’s your grandson or granddaughter.”

You can see your parents not moving, just looking at the camera. “Did the camera freeze?” you ask him, feeling your face get hot at their lack of reaction. This is something they should be excited about, right?

“I don’t know,” Matthew whispers, the color in his face draining the longer they sit there without doing anything. His parents were so excited, already planning a baby shower for you in St. Louis and in Calgary, telling you that Chantal would book a ticket to be out with you around your due date unless your mom wanted to do it. Your parents showed nothing.

“You’re not married,” your mother says, her old-fashioned ways potentially getting in the way of being excited about becoming grandparents.

“No,” you let out in a small voice. They were supposed to be happy for you, not pushing you to the brink of tears.

“What happens if Y/N goes into labor and you’re away at a game, Matthew?” your dad asks.

“Uh, she’s not due for eight months, so that shouldn’t be a problem. But, I would drop anything wherever I was to be by her side whenever she needs me.” The two of you look at each other, momentarily forgetting that you were on a call with your parents, resting your head on his shoulder while he kisses the top of your head.

“We’re flying out in seven and a half months and throwing you a baby shower, then. And we’ll need one for the family out here. Are Chantal and Keith doing one in St. Louis? We’ll have to coordinate them coming here for the one we’ll throw and us going there for the one they throw. Oh, and Chantal and I should probably be with you when your due date comes to help out if you want us,” your mom starts rambling, catching you off guard while your dad smiles.

“You guys aren’t mad?” you ask, Matthew letting out a sigh of relief.

Your parents shake their heads. “Congrats, you two, we can’t wait.”

The call ends, you visibly shaken by what your parents put you through. “I never want to have to do that again,” you tell Matthew.

Matthew looks at you, pulling you close to him with one arm, the other hand resting on your stomach. “But we said we wanted more than one child, and I’m never able to keep my hands off you for longer than a few minutes. Oh, god, when you start showing I’m gonna lose it,” he tells you, making you laugh at his visible spiraling at the thought.

“You not being able to keep your hands off me is how I ended up pregnant in the first place,” you tease him, reaching up to cup his cheek and kiss him.

“Worth it.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #blurb weekend 521 #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines

[bqstqnbruin]

67 and/or 81 with cale?

Happy end of blurb weekend! And with this one, that is all 77 blurbs!

Tagging: @besthockeyfics @glassdanse @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @stars-canucks @hockeylvr59 @beauvibaby @calgarycanuck @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @airplaneanon @annedub

67. “I want to start a family of our own.”

81. “You looked so cute when you were little.”

Word Count: 608

_______________________

You and Cale had just moved in together, your first apartment still in absolute disarray with more boxes on the floor than actual floor showing. Cale was in the bathroom, trying to figure out how to organize himself while you were in the kitchen when you heard a knock on the door. You call to your boyfriend to tell him you would get it, finding a box left at the door with the delivery person already heading back down the hall to leave.

“Cale, something came for you,” you tell him, lifting the box, hearing something inside clang around. “It’s from your mom.”

He comes out of the bathroom, the look on his face letting you know that he had just as little of an idea as to what was in the box as you did. He opens it, a smile on his face as he pulls out a picture frame and a piece of paper that were inside. “Mom sent some old photos to put around the apartment, she got some from your parents, too, it looks like.”

You peer into the box, finding some of the old photos that you had forgotten about, one of you and all your cousins and your grandparents at a family wedding, one of you and your family from your high school graduation, one of a bunch of you and your cousins sitting on the beach at the family beach house in Rhode Island.

“What did you get?” you ask Cale, trying to see the photos his mom sent.

“Yours are all nice and familial,” he says, shoving his photos back in the box, “Mine are me making dumb faces with little to no clothing on as a child.”

“I need to see these,” you say, practically lunging at the box.

Cale was faster than you, however, grabbing it away from you before you could see any. “No, we do not need a picture of me when I was a year and a half old standing in the bathtub hanging up in our apartment.”

“But I bet you were so cute when you were little! And if I can’t see it I can’t ask you to recreate it for me,” you tell him, jutting out your bottom lip in hopes that he would cave.

“We can recreate that photo anytime you want without you seeing the original photo,” he says, touching your bottom lip with his finger. “Now put that lip in.”

You do as he says, a frown still on your face while he kisses you and leaves to stash the box somewhere you wouldn’t find it. “Besides,” you hear him call from somewhere in the apartment. “We can always wait until we have kids and then take all those embarrassing photos of them and show those to the loves of their lives when they’re older.”

You didn’t know what to process first: hearing him indirectly call you love of his life, or hearing that he’s thinking about you two with children. “And when do you plan on having these kids you’re talking about?”

Cale reappears next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to start a family of our own, just not right now.”

You kiss him, liking what he was saying. “You know, if we want kids, we definitely need some practice,” you tell him, biting your bottom lip while he lets out a laugh.

“The bedroom’s not unpacked yet, though,” he points out.

“We have an entire apartment to ourselves, who says we have to be limited to a bedroom?” you ask him, squealing as he lifts you off the ground, to start ‘practicing.’

#cale makar #cale makar imagines #blurb weekend 521 #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines