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heavenlyhischier · 1 month

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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧

word count: 1.8k

warnings: almost entirely plot and no dialogue, more of a prologue than anything, mentions of a hookup, tito is a wee bit of an asshole but not in an actual mean way, awfully translated french (please tell me if it's wrong), unedited

note: this is going to be part of an interactive au and a mini series in one so feel free to send me any ideas, thoughts, questions you have about anything!

series masterlist

The first time you met Tito, you were only fifteen and still very much in the awkward phases of your younger years. You wore clothes you thought were trendy, but made you cringe whenever you would look back on them. You had your hair in a ‘sock bun’ more often than not. Your arms and neck were decorated with chunky and bright colored jewelry. The only good thing about that time was you hadn’t gotten into makeup yet, so the most embarrassing thing about your face were the braces that decorated your teeth. Combine all of that with being stood in front of your older brother's attractive friend, and it the thought made your skin crawl just thinking about it.

You didn’t even talk to him after Mat had introduced him to you, too shy to approach the boy that gave you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his broken English made you blush like no one had before. It didn’t take a genius to see that you had developed a crush on the older boy, but you hoped that Mat hadn’t developed any sort of observational skills while he was at camp and he was just as oblivious as he always was. You knew he wouldn’t have approved.

You didn’t see Tito again until the next year after both he and Mat managed to somehow be drafted to the same team. It was as if fate was speaking to everyone, telling the world that Anthony Beauvillier and Mathew Barzal were meant to be friends. When you saw him later that night, you waited for him to approach you because the small crush you had formed for him last year never died down like you thought it would. If anything, it increased tenfold. He saw you standing off to the side as you searched through the drinks in the cooler and that was when he excused himself from the group he was previously talking with.

“I think your brother took the last Coke,” He said from behind you, catching your attention as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Of course he did,” You rolled your eyes as you turned to face Tito, doing your best to keep your outward appearance calm while your insides flipped, “Congratulations. Hopefully your new team is prepared for the both of you or they’re in for a shock.”

His lips turned upwards into a smile, his blue eyes sparkling as he speaks, “Thank you. It’s pretty crazy we’re going to the same team.”

The air that encased you made your skin crawl, your nerves spiked as his eyes stayed focused on your face and he looked down at you. You hoped he didn’t notice the way you swallowed the lump in your throat, or the way your entire face was a deeper shade of pink than it was before. Luckily, the sound of your sister calling your name provided you with the exit you needed before you embarrassed yourself. You bid him a goodbye before turning on your heels to walk towards your family.

“Oh,” You paused, looking over your shoulder with a mischievous smile, “Ton anglais s'est amélioré.” (Your English has gotten better.)

Tito couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement as he says, “Ton français n'a pas.” (Your french hasn’t.)

After that, you would really only see him when you were watching the Isles play. The two of you would make small talk in passing, but it never went beyond that. You were his best friend's sister, and you were off limits. You knew that the likeliness of Tito ever developing any sort of feelings for you was slim to none, but there were subtle comments and looks that left your brain hazy and hopeful. You had accepted that it was only ever going to be simple fun for the both of you, but then the Isles went to the playoffs.

You and your family went to every single playoff game that you could to support the team. The atmosphere was electric, everyone’s emotions amplified times ten, and that included the way Tito felt for you. It was getting increasingly harder for him to keep up the charade of you being just Mat’s sister the more he saw you. Each time he saw your entire face light up in excitement after the games, or when you would always go out of your way to check on him after a loss, the more he just wanted to pull you into his chest and kiss you until neither of you could breathe.

He was doing his best to keep his composure and respect his friendship with Mat, but then you knocked on his hotel room door to check on him after they were kicked out of the playoffs. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you then, after you told him how proud of him you were, and when you told him he didn’t have to stop, there was nothing that could keep him from having you the way he had thought about for years now. You thought that night was going to change everything, but when you woke up the next morning and he told you that it couldn’t happen again, you had never felt so used and heartbroken.

A small part of you wasn’t all that surprised because Anthony Beauviller was, after all, a professional hockey player. They had a reputation for a reason and that was the very reason Mat had tried to keep you away from them since he started playing hockey. He knew the likelihood of you getting hurt was greater than not, and he wanted to keep you safe. But of course, you didn’t listen.

Your relationship with Tito changed after that, and not in the way you had ever hoped it would. Every interaction you had with him after that night was awkward and sticky. It made your stomach turn, but not in the way it used to. You found yourself going out of your way to avoid him rather than seeking him out like you had always done before. It was for the best, you told yourself. He had made his feelings crystal clear, and you wanted to put as much distance between the two of you as you could. You wanted to move on.

Tito knew it was his fault that you stopped talking to him. He remembers the way your face twisted in pure heartbreak when he looked at you that morning and told you that you couldn’t tell anyone because it shouldn’t have ever happened to begin with. It was the face that haunted him in his sleep. He thought about reaching out to you almost everyday, but he never followed through. It was for the best, he told himself, you deserved far better than he could ever give you.

When you found out that Tito had been traded to the Canucks, you knew neither him nor Mat were okay. They had been friends for years, nearly attached at the hip, and now he was being forced to move quite literally across the continent with no warning. You had called Mat the second you found out, and you could tell he was upset almost the moment you heard his voice. He tried to convince you that he was okay, that he understood it was just a part of the job, but you knew better.

You put your feelings aside that night and texted Tito as well, asking him if he was okay and telling him that he was bound to be great no matter where he played. You didn't expect a text back the same night, but then a few days went by and the message still went unanswered. You tried not to dwell on the situation too much, instead throwing all of your focus into moving into your new place in a city you’d never been too, but like always, he was always at the back of your mind.

When he got traded to Chicago in the beginning of the current season, it was Mat who called you to complain about it. He was droning on and on about how he doesn’t understand why they don’t see just how good his best friend is. He kept saying how if he had anything to do with it, Tito would be back with the Isles and he wouldn’t go unless Mat did. You tried to listen, but he didn’t really let you talk anyways. Though you’re not sure you would’ve been a great conversationalist as all you could think about was how Tito must feel.

You had just gotten out of the shower after a pretty hectic twelve hour shift when you heard your phone vibrating on the table. It wasn’t late enough in the evening for you to be worried about getting a phone call, but the way your stomach slightly dropped made you nervous. When you picked the device up and saw Mat’s picture staring back at you, you felt yourself relax as you slid your finger across the screen.

“What’s up,” You greeted, walking into your kitchen.

“Just checking on my favorite sister,” He chuckles.

“Oh dear,” You roll your eyes, placing the drink you had grabbed onto the counter, “What do you want?”

You heard his over dramatic gasp echo through the speaker and you know he’s clutching his chest as he says, “I’m offended you think I have to want something to say that.”

“Mathew,” Your voice goes flat as you raise your brows despite him not seeing you.

“Fine, fine. You’re right,” He gives in, and you can hear some shuffling around before he continues, “So, you live in Nashville, right?”

“Did my geography lesson not stick?”

“Ha ha, so funny, but anyways. Hear me out, okay? So, Tito got traded to the Preds and he’s supposed to be there tomorrow and he doesn’t really have a place to stay, so,” His voice trails off.

You go through two different emotions in the span of ten seconds. First, your heart cracks at Tito being traded for the second time in a season. You know that he has to be feeling defeated, let down in himself. Second, panic bubbles in your chest as your eyes dart over to the door of the empty second bedroom in your apartment. Certainly Mat wouldn’t have done exactly what you’re thinking he did.

“You didn’t,” You breathed out, your eyes wide and heart beating against your ribs.

“I might have.”

#anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #tito beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #tito beauvillier x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year

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communication skills

anthony beauvillier x f!reader; platonic!mat barzal x f!reader

warnings: swearing, throwing up, based slightly on 'hits different' by taylor swift, i wrote a good 80% of this drunk so i apologise for everything

word count: 8.7k

The water was warm – not too hot that it burned your skin, but warm enough to encourage you to stand in front of the mirror – refusing to look at your own reflection – and keep your hands held under the steady stream. There was something relaxing about it, watching it cascade off your skin, fragmenting the light.

It was a twisty tap, and after a long period of you washing off the feeling of his last words, desperate to scrub any and all traces of him off your skin, even despite the pathetic futility of such a feat – another hand reached out from behind you, twisting it off and handing you a small pile of paper towels.

Much like your own reflection, you refused to look at the man on your right, keeping your head down and eyes entirely focused on the task at hand. If you even so much as caught a pitying or equally heartbroken gleam in his face, you’d be done for; that unwanted well of emotion would shatter, and Mat would be left to pick up the pieces in a bathroom of a club you’d only been to once before.

The last thing you wanted to do was talk about it, but when you chucked the scrap towels in the bin, the frustration had gotten the better of you, and your words spewed out of your mouth seamlessly. Mat was leant against a wall, nodding along to almost everything you were saying, and you could tell from the grave expression on his face that he was just as affected by the matter, too.

How could he not?

He’d known Beau since they were kids, and because of the inhumane system surrounding transfers, they’d be separated from each other for the first time in years.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” He asked, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, a stern yet altogether curious look about him.

You froze, knitting your brows together in slight bewilderment, “What am I gonna do about him getting transferred?” You checked, puzzled as to his query.

There wasn’t much you could do about anything; transfers were legally bound contacts as far as you knew, and you wouldn’t be able to hammer even the slightest dent in that framework – not that you’d even thought about doing that anyway.

It wasn’t your career, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you weren’t going to mess with something set in stone. Still, that harsh truth didn’t exactly do anything to numb the stinging hurt prickling at your chest. Your throat tightened, and you pressed your lips together, trying to suppress the mounting build of sadness climbing up your throat.

You hated the helplessness of it all; you couldn’t control a single aspect of anything that had occurred within the last fifteen minutes and it petrified you. It sent goosebumps trailing down your skin, and a spike of adrenaline through your system.

“No,” Mat frowned, blinking at you, “What are you gonna do about Tito moving to Vancouver?”

You swallowed, trying to maintain the knot slowly building, “I don’t follow.”

You weren’t going to do anything. He was the one that had ended it. You were, however, going to go home and watch New Girl to cheer yourself up. Maybe call your parents; the time difference would mean they’d still be awake – and long term? Probably mope.

You weren’t sure you could quite stomach the thought of someone else at that moment – which was a shocker to you.

Moving on was always easy for you to do – it tended to be a benefit of never truly giving yourself to anyone. Yet, somehow, Anthony Beauvillier had worked his way under your defences and you’d given yourself to him in ways you never pictured yourself ever doing.

“I mean,” Mat rolled his eyes, “Are you going to let him break things off and jet across to the other side of North America?” He asked it like it was obvious, his shoulders shrugging as he watched you carefully.

He thought you were taking the entire situation rather well. You had since Anthony had panicked and dumped everything on you – how he’d literally just shouted in your ear ‘I’ve been traded to Vancouver and I’m leaving within the week’ – and how the only reaction you had was a poor ‘oh’ after you’d ingested his words. Other than that, you’d been in a sort of reverie, floating around the rest of the night, a haunted look on your face as you watched him leave.

He’d broken up with you, and Mat was almost certain that you didn’t know why.

Mat knew, of course he did. After Tito had told him, the first thing he’d worried about was you.

“I don’t want her to leave New York for me. She deserves better than that.”

And no matter how many times Mat had tried to persuade Tito that, no, you deserved each other wholeheartedly, Tito was insistent on the fact that the only way to solve that issue of his was to break up with you.

Obviously, he’d neglected to confide exactly why he’d broken up with you, to you.

And that left Mat in this current predicament: you in shock hiding in the bathroom, and Tito, no doubt, packing his suitcase and mourning your entire relationship.

Honestly, Mat was sick of you both. You were too blind to realise that you guys were made for each other – you were just too stubborn to connect the dots and allow yourselves to be happy – with each other.

Your reactions just seemed to lack emotion; it was as if someone had snuffed out your ability to feel – you looked subdued, an empty vacancy hidden behind your eyes.

And when he’d asked you if you were going to go with Anthony to Vancouver, you’d just stared, looking mildly unwell at the prospect.

“What else am I supposed to do?” You asked, placing a hand on your stomach as though to ease the rising sickness. Where had it come from? “He told me he was moving to Vancouver and that he didn’t want me to go with him. In fact, his exact words were ‘I don’t want you to come to Vancouver with me’ and ‘I want to break up’.”

Mat blanched, frustration fisting an angry hand in his chest, slowly pushing its way through his sternum.

He swore you two would be the death of him.

He didn’t say anything, but took your silence as an answer. You’d been throwing hopeful glances at the door, and he’d elected to ignore it in wanting to try to get you to see sense, but it seemed Tito had left that job even more difficult to follow through on with his harsh words.

Reluctant words. Words that Mat knew absolutely killed him to say to you.

He’d seen the way his friend had looked at you, and to know that he was moving to Vancouver – away from him and New York, a feat that he’d be doing alone – and leaving you behind was something that broke even Mat’s heart, and in that, he knew that it destroyed both yours and Tito’s.

If Mat hadn't known that Tito only broke up with you because he didn’t want you to drop everything for him, he would have assumed the guy was running from something.

In a sense, he was running away from you – but in doing so, he was running away from quite possibly the best thing he’d ever had in his life, and Mat wasn’t about to let either you or Tito make that mistake.

He didn’t voice any of that, however, just moved aside and let you through the door, making sure to keep a steady hand on your back in reassurance as you both made it out of the club, past the millions of couples devouring each other – who only served as a sour reminder of the night’s events – and outside.

It was chilly, and the frosty air nipped at your exposed skin.

You’d barely had time to string together a coherent thought before hands were tugging you in all directions; cold and clammy as you were pulled back and forth, concerned touches on your elbows, shoulders, and chin. You barely even registered exactly who you were looking at.

“Are you okay?”

“There’s a cute guy inside that’s been checking you out all night–”

“I can’t believe he just broke up with you.”

“Why isn’t she looking at us?”

Questions were fired left, right and centre, and you were numb to it all; their voices trickling in through one ear and flowing out of the other seamlessly. They sounded like they were underwater, and you felt Mat’s comforting hand on your back once more, gently guiding you away from your friends.

You heard him say something, it must have been something about getting you home because they all let out a chorus of disappointed ‘ohs’ and patted you sympathetically on your arm.

For some reason, hearing the truth of what actually happened barely half an hour ago seemed to set it into stone; it felt different keeping the breakup in the bathroom just between you and Mat – it felt more private somehow, like you could walk out of the room and pretend Anthony hadn’t left you in that club, heart shattered into oblivion and mind stuck on his words and the way he looked like he might break if you so much as even stepped towards him or touched him or whispered even a word of protest.

But you’d wandered outside in the hope of clearing your head, only to be bombarded and heralded and overwhelmed when you were busy trying to deal.

Why did he break up with you? You would have gone with him - you knew you would.

Did he get bored of you? He couldn’t have; he’d just told you he was wildly in love with you three weeks ago.

Had he met someone else? Was he in love with someone else?

And that was when you saw it; although they were further down the street, Mat pushing you into a walk as you both strolled down the sidewalk, you could just make it out in the hazy darkness.

They must have been illuminated by the light from the inside of the bar, because each time a door opened, their section of the sidewalk practically glowed, highlighting them.

You couldn’t see who the girl was, she seemed to be hidden from view by the man, but it was him who’d caught your attention. If it weren’t for Mat coaxing you along, you’d have frozen in place, eyes fixated watching them with the slow drip drip of dread pounding your body.

You were entranced by the way he brought his hands up to the side of her face, throwing his head backwards in a laugh – a real one, unbridled with joy – and then leant forwards, peppering kisses all over her face as she giggled sweetly at his attentions and affections. It wasn’t the PDA that had you stalling.

That man was Anthony. You could only see the back of his head, and he was further down than you, but he was around the same height and you could see the curls in his hair. He was even wearing a typical Anthony outfit.

It was simple, and you were sure almost every guy in the vicinity was wearing some variation of it, but what caught your eye was he was wearing the same grey t-shirt Beau had just left in.

It could have been any grey t-shirt.

But Anthony had just left wearing it and it was logical that he’d broken up with you because he was in love with that girl.

Mat seemed to sense your hesitation, and he slowed to a stop, brows furrowing at the intensity with which you were watching the young couple in front of you. His eyes drifted from you, his hand now gently grazing your forearm as though he was afraid you’d peel and leave him, to the couple.

He didn’t understand what was so compelling about them that had you completely fascinated. Granted, you looked horrified, and your eye twitched, a flash of pain appearing and then disappearing almost as soon as it had made its presence. If he thought you looked ill before, you looked like you were about to throw up–

He’d barely managed to steer you against a wall and wind your hair up before you’d thrown up on the side of the road.

You quickly pulled yourself up, hating that your eyes instantly drifted back over to the couple.

You frowned. The man wasn’t Anthony.

Then you hurled again, and Mat’s level of concern skyrocketed.

“How much did you have to drink?” He asked, helping you to stand back up, a slight grimace to his face as he made sure there were no splashes coating his jeans.

You briefly shut your eyes, stomach turning, feeling your heart break in real time as the emotions you’d bottled started to manifest itself in physical symptoms – completely against your will. Your eyes pricked with hot tears and the lump in your throat was back as your chin wobbled. You tried to hide behind your hand, but Mat had caught the momentary vulnerability before you could turn away.

He sighed, letting your hair fall back down and automatically pulling you into his chest.

“I didn’t have anything to drink.” You admitted.

His chest rumbled, and you didn’t know if it was the comfort he brought, because no one else seemed to understand what you were feeling at that moment, or if you simply craved a human touch from someone you trusted, but you felt your demeanour shatter, the tears tracking down your cheeks before you could catch them and reel them back in.

“I didn’t have anything to drink.” You repeated, shaking your head.

All you’d done was picture Anthony Beauvillier with other girls in love, and then promptly thrown up on the street.

Yeah, you were pretty fucked.

___

Yet, despite the fact that Anthony had moved to Vancouver, there was a temporary feeling about it – as though you didn’t believe the breakup had actually happened, or you didn’t believe it was really…a breakup?

It definitely had something to do with the fact that Mat was currently in your apartment, a rental, pre-furnished – one that rather conveniently, you hadn’t had the time to move into properly yet, and he was helping you box your belongings, taping the edges together and piling them up in the corner.

You were sorting out your clothes, placing them into a suitcase, and he was in the living room, going through your kitchen.

It hadn’t happened quickly. It took Mat a week to plant the seed in your mind, and it took you another three to decide to move out. Honestly, after Mat had pointed out that, in fact, your ‘friends’ weren’t really your friends; your job had previously offered you a different position in Surrey, not too far out from where you’d just rented another apartment – and it was a career move. That was what you kept telling yourself; technically the job move was a promotion – your salary had been upped and it was more of what you actually wanted to do job-wise.

Plus, your parents lived in Vancouver. You grew up there, went to school there, your friends still lived there. The only reason you stayed in New York was because you’d managed to snag a job straight out of college and you’d established a sort of life for yourself. Albeit, completely apart from your family, but you’d gotten used to the loneliness in college.

If anything, the only reason you’d stayed in New York and hesitated to accept that job offer in the first place – one that you’d gotten even before Anthony had dumped that bomb on you – was because of Mat.

You guys were pretty close, and it felt like a betrayal leaving him (especially after Anthony had just done the same thing, though it was out of his control) for the person he’d introduced to you.

And to say he was eager to send you back to Vancouver – ‘for your job opportunity’ – would be a bit of an understatement, if his volunteering to help you pack had anything to do with it.

It almost felt like someone had taken the knife already living in your chest and twisted it when you heard the song playing through the speakers. The song.

The melody was instantly familiar, even more so the croning of the voice, and it sent a pang of nostalgia ricocheting off the inside of your skull.

There were people everywhere; though it could have had something to do with the fact the venue was only one room – a large one at that, with tall ceilings and rather gorgeous curtains. The back wall was made up entirely of windows and the view overlooking the city was gorgeous from where you were standing. You swore you could see stars when you looked up.

Not that you looked very hard; your eyes were indefinitely locked onto Anthony as he leant back against the glass.

You were both sitting on the floor, him with his back to the glass, and you perpendicular. Somehow you’d both managed to find a quiet corner – literally – and sit down, because after you’d gone to get drinks, your chairs were occupied by some unfamiliar faces, and it was the perfect excuse to get him alone, at least to some extent.

You weren’t entirely isolated from the celebrations, but you made it work.

Your legs were stretched out along the floor, and because of the limitations of you being able to wear a dress in public, Anthony had elected to place his legs over the top of yours like some sort of criss-cross pattern. You were pressed together, him almost sitting on your lap, and you could tell he was comfy.

He’d shrugged his blazer off and a few extra buttons had come undone somewhere along the lines. Your hand stroked delicate motions on the material of his suit trousers, and although his head was resting against the glass, his eyes were watching your fingers.

There was a glass of champagne on either side of you both, yours empty, his only half.

Perhaps that was the reasoning behind your exaggerated reaction when you heard ‘Crazy in Love’ begin to play over the speakers.

You smiled to yourself, unaware of the soft look of mild amusement he was giving you. You’d noticed a pattern recently, and even through your high state of mind you’d somewhat remembered it.

“What?” His voice had your attention snapping back over to him, the motion of your hand on his leg never stopping. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

“You haven’t noticed?” You ducked your head, disbelieving of his obliviousness. You threw your free hand in the direction of the music, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Clearly not.” He breathed a laugh, eyes lighting up at the mock offence you’d managed to implicate on your face.

“Everytime we go somewhere together, ‘Crazy in Love’ plays. Yesterday, at the restaurant; Mat even played it when he hosted dinner the other day…it’s just something I’ve noticed.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it…” He trailed off, a cheeky smile donning his face as his cheeks turned a rosy pink.

“Now that I’ve mentioned it? How convenient–” You started, but were promptly cut off when he leant forwards, reducing the short distance already between you both, and kissed you.

It was an effective silencing method, one that he’d used on you many times before and one that you’d used on him before. You were at that stage where little displays of affection, no matter how intensely they made those butterflies swarm, didn’t swerve or particularly hinder the one-sided conversation anymore. In other words, they’d lost their effectiveness, and even after this realisation, it didn’t seem to stop either one of you giving or accepting such attentions.

“I was thinking,” he muttered, pulling away whilst you kept a hand on his wrist, preventing him from moving too far.

Usually you would have teased him, warned him to be careful in doing such a thing, and it seemed he was expecting some sort of comment, because he paused, brows furrowing when he was met with silence. You nodded, however, unable to hide the fact that you were completely enthralled by his existence – you were sure he could see it on your face; you could even feel your cheeks heat up for no apparent reason at all other than the magnetic pull you felt towards the man sitting in front of you – and urged him to continue.

“Maybe it should be our song?” He asked, lifting the hand in your grasp up to your face, momentarily brushing a strand of hair from your face with his thumb.

He wasn’t nervous about the suggestion, that much you could tell. He was comfortable, eagerly anticipating your answer.

You smiled, tilting your head and you felt your eyes widen slightly. It didn’t seem like a silly idea.

“Why?” You asked, unable to help the quick glance at his mouth.

“I think it’s fitting to us.” He shrugged.

You nodded, not entirely surprised by the implication. You hadn’t said the words yet, but you knew how you felt. Rather shockingly, however, it didn’t fill you with a sense of dread or unease.

So you replied, “I think it is too.”

Despite the complexity of love, it seemed remarkably simple with Anthony.

It certainly didn’t feel that way when you walked into your living room, seeing Mat half attempt to dance along with the music as he placed various cups and mugs into a box on the kitchen counter.

It felt irrevocably wrong to hear it without Anthony there, and that mere fact was what spurred you on to lean over the phone on the coffee table and hastily press the skip button.

You ignored Mat’s groan of disapproval as you wordlessly made your way back to the bedroom.

“What are your neighbours like?” It was Mat on the phone, his face in the frame on FaceTime as he virtually kept you company as emptied the last couple of boxes.

You’d officially moved back to Vancouver a month ago, your parents offering your childhood room back for the first few weeks until you moved in properly. You didn’t exactly have the heart to say no to them, but their coddling (however attentive it was) had begun to get a little overbearing, so you’d taken every opportunity to sneak over to your new apartment and empty as much as you could.

It was fairly livable now: your main priority had been the kitchen and bedroom, and you’d emptied nearly everything to the point you were comfortable actually moving in. In reality, you knew if your parents hadn’t been there you’d have easily put up with living in a skeletal apartment – so for that, you were grateful.

All the nighttime sneaking out of your parent’s house and into your apartment had meant that you’d neglected to actually talk and meet your neighbours. All you knew was there was an elderly couple living two doors down, who’d only smiled at you in passing, and there had been a card posted under your door from your neighbour on your right, but you didn’t know what they looked like.

So when Mat asked you that question, you sighed, “I don’t actually know.”

He didn’t seem too shocked, and nodded in understanding.

“I probably need to, to be honest, I got something posted under my door the other day.”

At this, his interest peaked, and you saw him look up from his plate, raising an eyebrow, “Who was it from?”

You frowned, his rather exaggerated interest raising your suspicions, and froze from where you were unwrapping a glass, “Why?”

He shrugged, playing it off, “Because I think it’s important to know who you’re living around. What if something happens and you need help? Forget your key?”

You returned to your previous task, mulling his words over. You knew he was right because you’d had that exact same reasoning drilled into you since you’d left home in college, but your why hadn’t really been directed at meeting your neighbours, more, “Why were you so interested in who it was when you asked?”

He swallowed, shrugging once more, “Just am. No reason.”

You didn’t believe him, and he could clearly sense it, because he rolled his eyes, not saying anything else.

“It was from ‘Number Twenty-Three’.” You answered, watching him carefully, still not entirely trusting him.

He just nodded, ensuring to keep his facial expressions impassive as he shovelled another spoonful of rice into his mouth, not caring when a few grains fell back onto his plate.

There was a few more minutes of general chatter, and you found yourself sitting back against the sofa, pensieve as you took in your new living quarters.

“Do you think I was silly moving here?” You asked Mat, not looking at him as he pondered the question.

“No.” Was all he said, and you turned your eyes back to him.

The thought was something that had been majorly playing on your mind since you first agreed to move back to Vancouver. There was a part of you that knew you wouldn’t have even considered moving back if Tito hadn’t gone – and it freaked you out. You were aware putting Tito above all else was risky, especially considering the fact you hadn’t messaged him since you’d broken up; you didn’t know where he was or if he’d even want you anymore, if he had a girlfriend. It had been months, and you knew he was a desirable guy. You wouldn’t blame him if he’d moved on.

But there was always that nagging thing that had you feeling like you’d moved only because of Anthony, and you hated it so much. It made you want to curl up and teleport back to your old life in New York, but even the thought of that made your stomach turn because you knew he wouldn’t be there.

It just kept coming back to him.

You didn’t know what would happen if he saw you – that was assuming you ever gained the courage to actually face him again.

A part of you felt almost sheepish at the mere idea of seeing him. Sure, your heart rate picked up and your hands trembled against your will, mouth going dry as you remembered the night he broke up with you.

And the only reason you knew you could confide in Mat was because he had both sides of it; although he didn’t talk about it much – presumably for your own fragile heart – you knew he talked to him as much as he could, if not, everyday. You felt like you were using him as a bridge, and even then his words of encouragement fell on deaf ears, your own insecurities drowning them out with fears of rejection.

You wouldn’t have even moved to Vancouver if it hadn't been for Mat’s support and help.

He sighed, and you could tell he’d sussed you and your doubts out.

“He told me he’s not been able to even look at another woman without feeling like he’s gonna hurl.” He started, pausing to gauge your reaction. You swallowed, feeling a little guilty at the relief you’d felt upon his confession, “He asks about you everyday, and he’s not doing too well. I don’t even know if he’s sleeping properly.”

You remained silent, instead choosing to reach a hand into the box next to you.

Fuck.

One of Anthony’s Islander’s caps.

Almost instantaneously you felt your eyes begin to water, both at the hat and everything Mat had just told you.

It was a lot, all of this new change, in one go.

“I think I’m gonna go.” You said quietly, trying to hide the way your voice cracked a little at the end. You refrained from sniffling, not wanting to raise Mat’s concern.

“Okay,” he muttered, his voice soft, “Look after yourself. Call me if you need anything.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Maybe think about replying to number twenty-three? Look at making a few new friends, yeah?”

You laughed, though it was watery – the kind that had you questioning if you wanted to cry or not, “‘S not one of your worst ideas, actually.”

“Hey.” He mocked, faking offence, “But, really, I think you should.”

“I think I might.” You admitted.

You missed the way he sagged.

“Good.” There was a brief pause, “Anyway, love you, miss you, have fun unpacking.” He waved at the camera, flashing you a charming smile, which you didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

“Miss you too, Barzy. Try not to hurt yourself before I next see you.” It was a low blow, and you saw the hurt flick over his face momentarily.

Then you promptly ended the call, unable to stop yourself laughing a little.

___

Tito had just finished washing up when a piece of paper slipped under his door.

He’d stopped what he was doing, midway to the living room. The paper had slipped under his door coincidentally at the exact moment he was walking past it, and he’d frozen, creeped out at the timing. It was almost as if the person on the other side had known he was walking past the door and chosen that specific moment in time to post the letter through with the purposeful intent of freaking him the fuck out.

Nevertheless, he’d put his coffee mug down on the counter, reaching to inspect the piece of paper.

He almost dropped it when he saw the writing.

His face drained of blood, and before he’d even opened it, he’d thrown the door open, hastily checking the hallway.

It was empty.

Disappointment clawed at his chest, but he remained somewhat hopeful, his fingers working quickly to unfold it, his foot holding the door open in case they decided to make another appearance.

Why did he spend so long looking at it? He could have caught her, for fuck’s sake.

It was a stretch, in hindsight. There had to be at least a million people who flicked their ‘f’ like that, and there had to be even more who wrote at an angle like that, with their letters remaining round.

It had to be common.

Thank you for the welcome, 23.

Then when his eyes tracked down to the sign-off, he swore someone was playing tricks on him.

Obviously, his immediate reaction – completely bypassing the excitement and blinding fear of her having moved on from him bubbling in his stomach – and shut the door behind him, scrambling for his phone.

Mat picked up almost instantly.

“You fucking prick–”

Needless to say, the injured Islander knew exactly what he was talking about.

___

He’d not wanted to scare you, truly.

Since Mat had admitted to everything – from the reason you’d moved to his helping hand in finding you a place to live temporarily – he’d taken measures to ensure you didn’t run into him without any semblance of warning, but he’d found it much harder to put into practice.

He’d almost run into you three times in the past week, and every time he had to leave or enter his apartment, he’d take a cautious look down the hall and run – not wanting to startle you too much.

He just didn’t want to catch you off guard was all.

He knew you’d probably want to see him under your own control, and he was all for waiting for you. From what he’d been told, you weren’t doing much better than him.

But he’d known his luck was bound to run out at some point.

Which was how he’d found himself in this exact predicament.

___

You’d been weirdly wanting to go downstairs. You didn’t know why you’d had the sudden urge, but all you did know was that there was a lounge and a bar, and you were in desperate need of some socialising. It had been a gruelling week – and incredibly dull – unpacking your things and overthinking your first day at work, and you needed to escape from it all.

Each and every time you’d left your apartment, you’d cast a curious glance at your neighbour’s door. Number twenty-three.

They were a perfect neighbour: very rarely did they disturb you, and when they did it was only the quiet hum of some music that you guessed must have been played in their bathroom, because when you pressed your ear against the wall it felt as though you were standing right next to a speaker.

The only issue you’d had with them was that you hadn’t seen them; whenever you’d heard their door shut, you’d immediately gone to look through your peephole, only to be met with an empty corridor.

It had frustrated you to no end, but you’d coped, helplessly wondering when you could thank them. They’d been the first person to welcome you and you hadn’t even seen them yet – there had been a nagging in the back of your mind that perhaps they’d been dodging you, but there was no way it could have possibly been intentional. You’d barely been at work a full two weeks, which hardly gave them time to actually deduce your timetable or hours.

You’d been watching the Canucks, unable to help yourself from consuming every piece of media Anthony was part of, and then you’d switched off the TV a few hours later, completely alone and needing to get out of the confines of your apartment – desperately and immediately.

That was how you’d come to be locking your door from the outside – ever-weary – and frozen, nerves tingling and heart pounding with nerves as you heard a pair of footsteps coming down the hallway. They were slow, and you could vaguely make out the sound of their trudging, so you’d stalled, secretly hoping that they’d be Number 23.

You’d pretended to fiddle with your keys as you waited for the footsteps to round the corner only when they did, you heard them stop short of you, a quiet “Putain” whispered under their breath.

You frowned, not yet looking up at the person. There was something familiar about their whisper, something you couldn’t quite place immediately.

It was a different story when you looked up.

You could immediately tell from the soft echo of sorrow on his face and abundant lack of shock at your appearance that he wasn’t entirely surprised at your presence. His hand was firmly holding the end of his duffel bag that was slung over his shoulder, and he was wearing the usual suit, his cheeks still a little flushed from the match you’d only been watching a while ago.

You couldn’t help thinking that the TV screen did him no justice, because even though he wasn’t smiling or expressing any semblance of excitement at your presence, he was stunningly breathtaking in your opinion. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was parted – he hadn’t wanted to see you at that moment, that much was obvious from the expression stagnant on his face.

You, on the other hand, found yourself quite unable to draw oxygen into your lungs at his sudden appearance. You were completely frozen, unable to do anything other than stare dumbly, your jaw half-dropped in sheer shock.

Your heart was thunderous, practically clashing against your ribcage so hard you were sure you could feel the pain of it, and your mouth had dried, eyes watering. You weren’t on the verge of tears, by any means. In fact, you felt rather numb to any sort of emotion, because you’d prepared yourself for this moment for months, and now that he was standing in front of you, looking almost sheepish at your lack of understanding, you were unable to string even a coherent thought together.

There was a moment when you had thought he’d arrived in your hallway purely to see you, but that had quickly dissipated when he regained his composure, seemingly on the verge of saying something, and slowly walked past you, unable to tear his eyes away.

You let out a shaky breath when he reached the door branded ‘23’, and furrowed your brows.

He’d been in front of you this entire time–fucking Mat.

He’d orchestrated this car crash. He was the one who’d suggested you speak to your boss whilst he’d look at possible apartment rentals for you, and you’d naively agreed, assuming he had no ulterior motives in his uncharacteristic generosity considering he’d been nothing but helpful with your entire move, but right now you hated his guts.

Anthonylooked away, briefly, considering something for a second, before looking straight back towards you, a hand smoothing his hair back unconsciously. Neither of you said anything as he blindly unlocked his door, taking one last look at you, before stepping through.

It was only when his door slammed shut that you were able to take a breath.

The hand that had been fiddling with your keys dropped to your side, and you were hardly able to realise what you were doing before you’d unlocked your door, flinging it open and making a direct beeline for the box you’d purposefully avoided since your unfortunate FaceTime call with Mat. Your hand immediately sought out the cap, and operating purely on adrenaline and the mindset of ‘what-the-fuck-I-have-nothing-to-lose’, you’d made your way back out of the door, plans to head downstairs completely forgotten.

You wouldn’t have done it if you hadn't had the confidence instilled in you from Mat, that Tito had been miserable since he’d left New York, even despite the efforts of his new teammates to introduce him to Vancouver society.

Your brain must have been running a mile a minute, because when you clashed into a suit-clad chest, not entirely taken aback by his sudden appearance, you were pushing the cap at him.

“You made me cry over a fucking hat, did you know that?” You asked, the Islander’s cap hanging between you.

Tito blanched, unable to speak.

You waited in anticipation, pursing your lips harshly to stop yourself from speaking.

You wanted him to say something to alleviate the doubts you’d had.

He gave you nothing.

“Say something.” You implored, hand dropping.

He took a breath, relaxing as his shoulders slumped forwards, “I’m sorry I made you cry over my hat.”

Your jaw clenched, fighting the burning in your eyes. You absolutely refused to cry until he confirmed what Mat had been telling you – only then would you let yourself break. You also had to be inside an apartment; you weren’t about to let yourself cry in the hallway for all your new neighbours to see.

“I’m sorry I broke up with you.”

It was quiet, so much so you would have had to strain your ears to hear him. His voice sounded broken and weak, and when you looked up at him his eyes were pooling with regret, lips turned down in what you could only place as sadness. It was plain and bare, and so hopelessly effortless than you felt yourself soften, even despite the bitterness you still held against him.

“Why?” You asked, not reaching for him. You were determined to keep him in the balance, refusing to give him even a snippet of what you were feeling. It may have been a harsh play on your behalf, but you weren’t about to forgive him too easily for unnecessary heartache.

He hesitated, fingers tapping his thigh uneasily, “Because we’d only been dating a few months and I didn’t want to ask you to uproot your entire life to Vancouver just for me.”

His honesty was startling, and you took a sharp step backwards.

It seemed too good to be true, yet you hated the doubt and mistrust placed in him to the point you felt like you were betraying him.

“I uprooted my entire life to move from Vancouver to New York in the first place, you know that.” You replied, somewhat coldly, turning around and entering your apartment.

There was that prickling feeling as though you were being watched through peepholes, and you desperately needed space to breathe.

You heard Anthony follow you, the door clicking shut behind you with ease, and you threw yourself onto the sofa, dreading and anticipating the late conversation.

“I do.” He admitted, hands in his pocket as he seated himself on the coffee table in front of you, “But I also know that you don’t enjoy change and I felt guilty even—”

“You didn’t even ask.” You interrupted, irritation flaring up.

He sighed through his nose, and you could tell he was almost as fired up as you were. This argument had been a long time coming, the reasons and excuses simmering beneath your skin for far too long, and now you were facing each other with no particular time constraint considering the fact you now shared a wall — something you couldn’t quite decide if it was a blessing or a curse.

“If I had asked, would you have come?”

“I guess we’ll never know,” you snapped back, looking at him as he rolled his eyes, “You really fucking made sure of that, didn’t you?”

“Well I apologise for trying to protect you from making a decision that could have ruined your career–”

“I don’t need protection, Beauvillier,” he winced, the surname jab stinging, “I can make my own decisions perfectly well.”

“Let me rephrase: I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to come with me because I wanted you to.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, jaw clenching.

“I would have wanted to go with you, dipshit.” You fired back.

“Would have?” He repeated, tilting his head, that wild element of determination flashing through his eyes. He was clearly referring to the past tense you’d used.

“Yes.” You breathed, “I would have, because I’d gotten a promotion located in Vancouver, and the only reason I would have said no, as much as I’m ashamed to admit it, was because of you and your stupid hockey team. I thought you’d stay an Islander so I held off–”

He spluttered, “And you didn’t think to tell me?” His voice raised in pitch, hands flying in front of him as he tried to convey his exasperation.

“No!” You raised your voice incredulously, unable to hide your appall from him, “You left before I could even argue against the breakup and I haven’t seen you since.”

“Ah,” he held up a finger, dodging your lame attempt to swat it away, “But when did you get the offer, huh?”

You paused, feeling your cheeks flush with colour, “You don’t have to patronise me, Tito.”

“Tell me when, and I won’t have to.” He explained, eyes wide as he waited for your answer.

“I got it a couple of days before you broke up with me.” You admitted, voice now a few notches lower.

“And why didn’t you say anything before?” His voice tipped with an edge of regret as he spoke, desperation coating his words as he finished his question.

You were both breathing heavily, adamant to portray your points and frustrations. Neither of you seemed to be thinking much of anything but about the other – much less of what or who you’d been doing since your departure – Mat’s words to both of you seemed to have eased that question, allowing you to freely have at one another without any holding back or worrying about the other’s antics.

You were both clearly still hung up on each other, and that knowledge had you feeling both euphoric and hopeful – a dangerous concoction you’d acknowledged amidst partially yelling at each other. Despite that, it was obvious you’d both been holding back – voices strained for the sake of not wanting to disturb your neighbours, even if you were closer to the wall you shared with Tito than your other neighbour.

“Because I didn’t want to be that girlfriend who says ‘oh, by the way, if those crazy rumours of you getting transferred to the other side of the continent were true, you totally wouldn’t have to worry about our relationship because I’d most definitely go with you anyway’, and then before I could tell you that you ran out of the club. Then when I tried to ring you literally a day later, you’d blocked me on everything!” You rolled your eyes, groaning when he took his blazer off, his hands on his hips after loosening his tie.

You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose to gain an upper hand in the argument, but it had you losing your train of thought briefly.

“Oh, so now it’s all my fault?” He frowned, a crease forming between his brows.

You laughed bitterly, “Dude, of course it’s your fault. You didn’t let me not allow you to break up with me.”

“But you didn’t tell me about the job offer – which, by the way, is amazing, so congratulations, I’m incredibly proud of you,” he sidetracked, his voice becoming gentler and allowing himself to express a little sincerity within his facial expressions, before returning to its previous sternness, “But you telling me about that job offer would have quietened any doubts I ever had about dragging you here.”

“Well, it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” You muttered sarcastically.

“You’re telling me? I just didn’t want you to be unhappy for the sake of my own happiness, okay?” He held up his hands in surrender, waiting for you to respond.

You shrugged, still not quite believing where he was coming from, “Why were you doubting it, I’m literally in love with you. I told you that.”

“Well, I’m in love with you, too. But I guess my guilt overpowered that. I wanted you to come to Vancouver because you wanted to, not because you felt like you had to.”

“You didn’t even ask me, though. You took that right away from me.” You said.

You’d both softened, voices dropping a few octaves and flailing limbs reducing as your frustrations slowly poured out of you.

“And what would you have said if I’d have asked?” He echoed from before, slightly breathless as his chest heaved.

He was looking straight at you, curiosity and a destructive hope practically radiating from his face. He wanted you to say no, to reassure him he’d made the right decision.

“I would have said yes.”

His face collapsed, and his hands immediately went to cover his eyes for a few seconds. You stayed rooted to your spot, watching him mutter to himself and shake his head. You couldn't hear what he was saying – some complex French mutterings, your ears may have picked up a string of profanities.

Then, just as you were beginning to submit to the gravitational pull towards him, he lifted himself back up, eyes watering and rimmed red – it had you wondering if this was how he’d spent your days and nights apart; torturing himself with what could have been if only he’d had the courage to ask you the question. You knew you were in no position whatsoever to criticise his lack of action, however. It was just the only thing you could stomach to blame.

At least this way you knew the fate of your misery the past few months had been out of your control, even if that small voice in the back of your mind screamed against that.

“Of course you would have.” He nodded, foot tapping against your floor. He still had a lot of pent up agitation begging to be relieved.

He’d just played a match and he still had energy to burn.

Instead, you did the thing you weren’t entirely expecting, and you could tell from his face that he wasn’t expecting you to pull such a move, either.

What you really wanted to do was launch yourself at him – there was no doubt in your mind he’d catch you, he always did – and not let him go, but you held back, both for your own sanity and his, as well as the fact that you knew you were both going to have to spend the night in your own beds, absorbing and mulling over every single thing that had come to light.

“We’re both idiots that should probably work on our communication skills a little more.”

The trace of a small smile worked its way onto his face, an idea flashing through his mind, “What was that?”

You didn’t even think before you’d picked up a cushion from the sofa and launched it in his direction. It felt like you’d been anticipating such a trashy joke because your aim was spot on; the cushion smacked him squarely in the face, eliciting a shout of surprise.

After he’d let it fall to the floor you both stood in your half-made-up living room, both your hands on your hips and considering each other carefully.

You didn’t know how you were going to go from here, but you knew what you wanted to get out of it, and what you wanted was the man standing in front of you, bravely looking as confused as you felt.

“You played really well tonight.” You said, desperately wanting to break the tense silence.

You could tell what he wanted to do, and you couldn’t exactly deny that you also felt that same desire begin to burn you from the inside, but you knew you had to make him work for it.

“Thank you.” He replied earnestly, not entirely shocked by your revelation. Since he’d found out you were his neighbour, he’d been keeping an ear out for your TV patterns.

On more than one occasion he’d been able to hear the NHL channel blast through the walls.

“No problem.”

“I think I should go.” He made no move to do such a thing.

“I think you should.” This time, he took a few steps towards your door, his hand hovering over the handle as though expecting you to change your mind, before throwing it open and leaving as quickly as he could.

Your head was a mess and your chest was surely about to implode.

You let yourself think it over for about five minutes, hands pressed together and resting against your mouth as your eyes darted across the room. You caught sight of the Islander’s hat on the sofa – when had you even let go of it? – and picked it up, leaving your apartment to knock on his door.

He must have been standing behind it waiting for you because it swung open only on the second knock and you barely had time to breathe before you were tugged roughly against his chest, your hands not wasting any time in burrowing themselves in his hair, and moving your mouth against his, tongues intertwined and breathing just as heavy as it had been when you were arguing.

It was short, possibly about ten seconds of unadulterated desire and lust and love, before you were shoving him away, attempting to maintain some seriousness. It failed drastically, your eyes working to keep up the act, but your mouth giving you away hilariously as you still felt the remnants of his kiss on you, leaving you able to do nothing but smile dumbly at him.

“I’m giving you this back.” You shoved his hand against his chest, but he made no move to take it off you.

“I don’t want it.”

“Neither do I.”

“It looks better on you.” He argued, taking it from your hand and placing it on your head.

You pulled a face, and swiped it off, “I’ve always been more of a Nucks fan than an Islanders, so, no thank you.” You let it drop between you, before failing to resist pressing another hot kiss to his mouth, dodging out of his needy hold and leaving. You hear the vague protest of “I’m telling Mat you said that!” and you spun on your heel, inappropriately shouting, “Fucking go ahead!” Before you shut your door, unable to process anything until you collapsed onto your bed face-first, cursing Mat Barzal’s wicked plotting.

#tito beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier oneshot #tito beauvillier imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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domesticmail · 11 months

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nhl masterlist

i no longer write for the nhl, but i used to write a LOT for them, so i would like to keep all my writing accessible! enjoy <3

fics

the one where you become parents | 2.3k

Mat Barzal x Reader

Your eyes brimmed with tears, hands shaking. The test quivered between your fingers, the sole focus of your attention, the cause of the anger and disappointment writhing in knots in your stomach. Your expression turned bitter as you looked away, biting your lips to keep the tears back, refusing to acknowledge the single blue line glaring back at you.

someone to you | 2k

Mat Barzal x Reader

Watching you was like watching the sun set over a beautiful horizon. As the sky darkens, the city glitters with light, alive and awake and moving. You are the lights of the cars, gliding through darkness with the floating quality of clouds, not quite fully present in the moment but still so alive, so full of energy and brightness and feeling. You are the stars in the night sky, shining, each one a planet so far yet so close, he wants to reach to the sky and pull you down to him, keep you close and safe and happy and free.

am i worthy? | Brock Boeser x Reader

part 1 | part 2

You slide your hand down his bare chest, fingertips tapping a light beat on his skin, the rhythm unknown to him but subtly familiar. There’s a softness in the ghost of your hand trailing down that spreads goosebumps across his sternum and causes a quiet shuddering breath to escape his lips. His hand finds its way into your hair, burying his fingers into a fistful of the strands and resting there. His thumb caresses the crown of your head gently.

one of them girls

Brock Boeser x Reader

A fic loosely based on the song "One of Them Girls" by Lee Brice.

blurbs

yoga | pierre luc dubois

waking him up | pierre luc dubois

waking you up | pierre luc dubois

why he loves you | pierre luc dubois

dancing after dinner | pierre luc dubois

meeting your family | pierre luc dubois

feeling like you don't deserve him | pierre luc dubois

pet names | pierre luc dubois

pillow | mat barzal

street fighter | mat barzal

mornings | mat barzal

baby's first nhl game | mat barzal

breakfast | mat barzal

parenting | matthew tkachuk

domestic bliss | matthew tkachuk

backlash | tito beauvillier

#nhl imagines #nhl fics #nhl masterlist updated #zoes writing #mat barzal x reader #brock boeser x reader #pierre luc dubois x reader #matthew tkachuk x reader #tito beauvillier x reader

197 notes · View notes

doc-pickles · 7 months

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til’ forever falls apart | anthony beauvillier

summary: anthony gets traded to vancouver and everything seems to implode for you. but at the end of the day, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.

warnings: language, a little bit of smut, angst, pregnancy, morning sickness, abortion, happy ending. oh! and lots of platonic barzal fluff!

a/n: i’ve had this idea for awhile and finally wrote it out! I hope y’all enjoy!

xoxo

nina

The trade had come to a shock to Anthony, meaning you were beside yourself when it was announced your boyfriend would be moving to Vancouver.

You’d gotten the ESPN notification minutes before there was a knock at your door. You opened it in a daze, finally snapping back to reality when you met Tito’s wide blue eyes.

“I- I didn’t know baby,” he stutters out as he steps forward. “Merde. I didn’t know.”

You move forward quickly, wrapping your arms around Tito as you pull him into your apartment. He’s not crying but his shoulders are shaking as he struggles to take even breaths.

“Baby, you have to breathe,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against Anthony’s. “Mon amour, look at me.”

When you meet Tito’s gaze his eyes are filled with sadness, a look that doesn’t suit him. You bring your hands up to stroke his cheek, sighing as he leans into your hand.

“Ma chérie… please,” Anthony’s lips are on yours in a slow, sensual kiss, his hands roaming up your hips to grasp at your hair. “Make me feel better… s'il vous plaît.”

And you do, you love Anthony the best way you can. Your bodies tangle together as you make your way into your bedroom. Slowly with gentle brushes and delicate fingers you remove his clothes, taking your time to praise him and give him the comfort he’s craving.

When he’s stood before you in nothing but his black boxers Tito pulls you to him, locking your lips together as his hands roam your body. His voice is barely a whisper as he tells you how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. And as he slowly undresses you, you forget for a moment that he’s going to be leaving you soon.

When you’re laying below Anthony his movements are slow and loving as he moves above you. His pace is unhurried as he makes love to you, his lips floating between your lips and your neck as he holds you close.

“Bébé, putain, je ne peux pas te quitter,” Anthony’s voice is trembling as he looks into your eyes, his hands bracketing your face as he whispers to you. “Je ne veux pas te quitter. Je t'aime tellement.” (Baby, fuck, I can't leave you. I dont want to leave you. I love you so much.)

“Je t'aime, Beau. Always,” you whisper as you meet his eyes. His pace increases after that, drawing out long moans as his hips piston towards yours, both of you chasing release. “Anthony… baby…”

“Come with me, Bébé,” Tito moans as his hips stutter, moving faster as he holds you close. “S'il vous plaît… Fuck… Please.”

You both fall apart in a mess of tangled limbs and moans, your lips connecting with Tito’s as you both ride out your high.

Laying on his chest after you’d both finished, you look up at Anthony with sad eyes, “I’m not breaking up with you so don’t even fucking think about it.”

The deep laugh that tumbles from Tito’s chest makes you smile as you lean up to kiss him, “Never, mon amour.”

You and Mat take Beau to the airport two days after the trade deal is finalized. The car ride is silent, Beau’s hand gripped firmly in yours as you navigate the craziness of airport traffic.

“Okay dude,” Mat sighs as Tito’s last bag is hauled onto the sidewalk. “If I keep talking I’ll cry and that won’t be good for anyone. But I love you dude and I’ll look after your girl.”

Anthony and Mat hug tightly, Mat pulling back and standing to the side as Tito looks at you. Your lip trembles and you throw yourself into his hold, arms wrapped tightly around him as he holds you close.

“I’ll see you soon, mon amour,” Tito whispers as he holds you, his hands caressing your hips as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“Je t'aime, Anthony,” you whisper as you kiss one last time. You pull back, watching as Tito grabs his bags. Mat’s arms are wrapped around your shoulder as you both wave to Anthony as he walks off.

Wordlessly, Mat climbs into the drivers seat of your SUV, making sure you’re settled in the passenger seat before pulling away from the curb and putting more and more distance between you and the man you love.

“You gotta get up, c’mon,” Mats voice is low and soft, comforting as he places his hand on your shoulder. “Do I need to call-“

“No,” you cut him off sharply, turning to look up at him. “I’m fine. Leave me alone Mat.”

“Okay but-“

Before Mat can continue a wave of nausea rolls through your stomach. You’re up and out of bed in a flash, barely making it to the toilet before you’re emptying the contents of your stomach into the bowl.

Anthony left two months ago and you’d been in agony since then. The last week however was different as you were plagued with constant nausea and fatigue. Mat was concerned about you, keeping good on his promise to Tito to look after you, but you knew what was wrong. You just refused to accept it.

“I’m going to call Tito,” Mat says firmly from his place in the doorway of the bathroom. “This isn’t okay.”

“No you can’t-“

“I sure as hell can,” Mat yells, meeting your eyes. “You’re running yourself into the ground!”

“I’m not-“

“Bullshit, this has gone-“

“I’m pregnant Mat.”

Mat freezes, his eyes wandering over your face for any sign that you’re playing a terrible joke on him. You only sigh and rest your head against the closed toilet seat.

“I took a test two days ago,” you whisper as you avoid Mat’s gaze. “I’m… I’m not keeping it.”

“But-“

“I’m going on Thursday,” you whisper as you look at your hands. “I can’t- Not while Beau is so far away. I can’t do it Mat.”

“You have options,” Mat whispers. “You can move out there. Or at the very least tell Tito. Please, you gotta-“

“I’ve made up my mind,” you meet Mat’s eyes with a serious look. “And you cannot tell Anthony.”

“But-“

“Mathew. I’m serious.”

Mat sighs and nods, walking forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“C-can you take me? To the clinic,” you look up at Mat and can almost visibly see his heart breaking. “Mat please…”

“You’ve got me,” Mat nods as he pulls you into a hug. “I’ll be there, I told Beau I’d be there for you.”

“Thank you Mat,” you whisper as he helps you up and settles you back into bed.

When you’re fast asleep Mat leaves your apartment, waiting until he’s on the sidewalk to make the call he knows he has to make.

“Tito… I need you to come to New York.”

Thursday rolls around and your stomach is churning with unease. You know you’re making the right decision but you’re still full of doubt as you put on leggings and one of Anthony’s sweatshirts.

Mat meets you downstairs and you drive in silence to the clinic, neither of you having anything productive to say.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” Mat whispers as he leans over and presses a kiss to your hair. “You got me, okay?”

You nod and step out of his car, walking slowly into the clinic. It doesn’t take long for your name to be called, the nurse leading you to an exam room. The setting is sterile and cold and you wish more than anything that Anthony was with you and this was a happy surprise instead of a nightmare.

“Well everything with your blood tests looks good,” the doctor announces as she sits in front of you. “I’m going to do a quick ultrasound to confirm everything and then we can go on with the procedure. You don’t have to watch the ultrasound, it’s completely up to you.”

You roll your shirt up and squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see what the ultrasound produces. But as the doctor rolls the wand over your stomach, you can’t help but crack an eye open and peer at the black and white screen.

There, barely the size of a jelly bean, is a little human. Half you and half Anthony. You gasp quickly and the doctor looks up at you with a sad smile.

“Would you like to hear the heartbeat? Or is that too much?”

You tell her yes and before you know it a booming sound echoes through the room. You stifle a gasp as your eyes squeeze shut, thinking of nothing but Tito and you and your baby.

“I- I can’t. I don’t want to get rid of my baby.”

The doctor walks you through next steps, how far along you are, and gives you information for what to do next. But you don’t hear any of it, instead thinking only of your boyfriend and how desperately you wish he was next to you.

You leave the clinic and find Mat waiting outside. As soon as you see him the tears start falling, your body wracked with sobs as he grabs onto your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re alright,” Mat whispers as he holds you. “It’s okay. You made a choice for you and-“

“I didn’t do it, Mat,” you gasp out as you cling to Mat. “I couldn’t. I saw… I saw the baby and I couldn’t do it.”

Mat simply holds you as you cry, ushering you into his car a few minutes later and buckling you in. You don’t say anything as the two of you navigate through New York towards your apartment.

When Mat ushers you upstairs to your apartment you’re ready to simply collapse onto your bed and sleep for a few days. But when you unlock the door your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you.

“Anthony…”

“Mon amour,” Anthony smiles sadly as he sees the tears coating your cheeks. “What’s wrong, Bébé?”

You begin to cry again, Tito immediately crossing the room to hold you close. He looks to Mat, who simply shakes his head as he backs up and waves goodbye to his friend before shutting your front door.

Anthony leads you to your bedroom, sitting on the side of your bed as he holds you close. Your tears subside, red eyes looking up at your boyfriend with sad smile.

“Je suis désolé, mon amour,” you sniffle as you meet Tito’s gaze. “I’m so sorry.” (I’m sorry, my love)

“For what? What’s wrong,” Tito asks, hands cupping your face. “Bébé tell me. How can I help?”

You lean back and look up at Anthony, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Bébé. So much,” Anthony kisses your forehead gently, pulling you closer. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong though.”

“I- We…,” you sniffle as you lock eyes with him. “Beau… We’re gonna have a baby.”

Tito’s lips simply curve up into a smile as he looks at you, “Really?”

You nod, pressing your face to his chest, “I went to the clinic to… But I couldn’t. I saw our baby and I couldn’t do it, Beau. I’m sorry. That I didn’t tell you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Bébé,” Anthony whispers as he holds you close. “It’s okay. I’m here now, I’m here with you. I’m not leaving you. Okay? I’m not fucking leaving you and our baby.”

You nod as Anthony holds you close, his fingers tracing slowly over your still flat stomach. He takes a deep breath before pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Will you come back to Vancouver with me?”

Tito’s voice is soft and questioning as he holds you, but immediately you know your answer.

“Of course.”

“Well hey there, Beauvilliers,” Mat’s smile is mile wide as he walks into the hospital room. “Who do we have here?”

Tito smiles and you can almost feel the excited energy radiating off of him as he hands off your newborn son to Mat, “Hud, meet your Uncle Mat. Mat…. Meet Hudson Mathew Beauvillier.”

Mat’s eyes widen as he looks down at the baby in his arms, “I- what?”

“He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” you whisper as Tito grabs your hand. “And you took care of me when Beau couldn’t. We owe our family to you Matty.”

Mat looks from the two of you to the baby in his hold. His eyes are brimming with tears as he sniffles and traces a finger across Hudson’s cheek, “Shit you guys… He looks so fucking cute. You guys make really cute babies.”

You smirk as you twist the wedding band and ring on your left hand, smiling up at Anthony. He’s already smirking down at you, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

“He’s pretty cute,” Anthony muses. “Figure we can make a whole hockey team if they’re all this adorable.”

“If you’re gonna carry them that can be arranged,” you grin as you snuggle into your husbands side.

part two here

#anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier imagine #tito beauvillier #tito beauvillier fic #tito beauvillier imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #mat barzal #mat and tito #nhl imagine #nina writes

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sc0tters · 8 months

Text

Out of It | Mat Barzal

summary: as your relationship with Tito finally hits a breaking point, what happens when Mat is there to pick up your pieces?

request: yes/no

warnings: cheating, failed relationship, drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 3.2k

authors note: Kei said I could use the chaotic ending so I did, probably means we’re gonna have to have a part 2 (let me know if you want it). Request said something sad for Tito but happy for Mat and this is what my mind came up with. I actually enjoyed writing this one a lot so I hope you all enjoy reading it! But also don’t cheat on your partners, that’s very fucked up!

part two | part three

Things hadn’t been good for months.

When Anthony was first traded to the Canucks your boyfriend of three years always just assumed that you would join him. But you didn’t, your entire working career was spent in New York building up the your name and you weren’t ready to leave it for some city in Vancouver without the guarantee of a job waiting for you.

That seemed to be the first sign that things were changing as the boy took it as you not loving him.

Tito slammed his hands against your kitchen counter “do you ever support me in this move?” The man groaned in frustration making you taken aback by his outburst.

The accusation hurt you “of course I do.” You yelled back making his irritated tone “the fact that you think I’m gonna pack my life up at the drop of a hat makes me question how you feel about me though.” You crossed your arms sending him a glare.

This argument had gone on for the last fifteen minutes and there was still no clear sign of the end of this argument “look I can’t live in Vancouver but I can split my time between the two cities.” You offered growing tired of the way this was continuing to drag on.

But Anthony didn’t like that offer, in fact that almost felt worse than you just staying in New York “don’t bother.” He sighed pushing past you.

The hockey player moved towards the door “where are you going?” You croaked feeling your throat grow tight “I’ll spend the night with Mat.” Anthony sighed grabbing his shoes from the rack.

Your feet pulled you to the door “we don’t go to bed angry,” you reminded him “you promise.” Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you felt like you were loosing the love of your life “I’ll be back in the morning.” The boy mumbled kissing your forehead.

His lips left their print on your skin before he walked out of the apartment leaving you alone.

You two never actually spoke about that argument again, instead just choosing to ignore the fact that for the first time since you two moved in together Anthony didn’t sleep at home when he was in New York.

It felt like it was meant to be the one anomaly in your relationship or at least until February hit. Valentine’s Day you were meant to be in Vancouver with flights booked and everything but when a last minute meeting came up you had to pull out. Much to the annoyance of Anthony though.

Thinking you were doing the right thing you told him to go enjoy the dinner reservations he made. But after your long day of work when you came home the last thing you expected to see was the rumour mill that twitter made talking about how Anthony had a new girlfriend.

She was taller than you and looked like a blonde supermodel. Through frustration you grumbled something to yourself before you dialled in your boyfriends number “hey y/n!” Anthony was always good about picking up on the first or second ring “yeah I’ll be done in a sec,” he added clearly talking to someone on his side of the call.

You never liked admitting that you felt insecure in your relationship, but how could you not when you were with some hotshot hockey player? It also wasn’t helped by the fact that he lived 3 hours behind you and in a different country “don’t tell me she’s there,” you choked on the words as tears formed in your eyes.

Anthony clicked his tongue hearing the soft whimper you let out “who baby?” His nickname always had you melting into his hand but now you felt repulsed by it “that girl-“ your eyebrows knitted together as you thought the boy was playing tricks on you acting all oblivious.

The hockey player cut you off “told you that Twitter isn’t good for you.” His reminder felt condescending as you sat down feeing like you were having his lecture in person “why are they all talking about it?” Your voice was soft as you wiped your cheek with the back of your hand to clean the tears away from you.

He almost forgot he was on the phone to you as he stared at the girl who was on his couch pointing at her watch to signal that they were late “when she realised that we both had no plans tonight I said she should come with me.” Tito explained leaving you silent as he wasn’t denying that he spent the night with this bombshell of a girl “she’s just a friend though baby you got nothing to worry about.” Somehow his attempt to comfort you only made your nerves stick out more.

You tried to formulate a coherent sentence as you felt stupid for getting all upset “look I’ve got a few days off next week, why don’t I come see you?” He proposed causing that stupid love drunk smile to form on your face “I’d like that a lot.” You nodded missing your boyfriend now more than ever.

From the moment he arrived in New York you two could feel that something was different. As you invited some of his favourite old teammates over for dinner you felt relieved that you weren’t having to spend the night alone with him.

But of course that sense of peace had to be disturbed “baby why don’t you leave those for the morning?” You asked seeing Anthony’s back towards you as you entered the kitchen.

If there was one thing that usually fixed your problems it was sex. Sure that sounded stupid and like you were both teenagers, but as a couple your favourite way to end even the smallest of fights as with sex.

Which is why you thought it was the fix this problem needed “I want to wake up to a clean kitchen.” The Canadian always felt this rewarding feeling whenever he got to see an empty set of sinks in the morning.

You decided to try a little harder as you walked over to him “think I’ve got something a little more fun for you to do before that though.” You mumbled letting your hands slide up the front of his shirt.

That only seemed to piss him off “Jesus y/n let me finish the fucking-” the moment he began lashing out you stepped back keeping your lips shut until he spun around to look at you.

It didn’t take his eyes long to make their way down your body as you tied the string around your robe up clearly deciding that it wasn’t right for tonight “oh,” Anthony’s voice was soft as he realised that you were wearing his favourite lingerie.

The set was something you bought when he was on a long road trip once and you sent him pictures of each set you tried on in the store and when he picked the blue set you went to the airport to pick him up in a coat with nothing on underneath besides for that new set “forget it.” You rolled your eyes now feeling embarrassed as you turned around heading back to your bedroom where you sat on your bed for fifteen minutes waiting for him to come after you.

But he never did and you felt like an idiot.

April came around and you were now onto month four of feeling like something was wrong but you never felt confident enough to talk to Anthony about it so instead you let your relationship get to the worst it had ever been. Excuses were made each time one of you was meant to see the other and as the time between phone calls grew, the amount of fight you put up to see the other person decreased.

Tonight you were going out with some of the guys from the Islanders team. Mat invited you along as they were celebrating their place in the playoff “I know they are your friends.” You rolled your eyes at the phone call as Anthony couldn’t understand how his best friend invited you along.

It was somewhat amusing because Mat was the one who introduced you to your boyfriend “I’m going to support the boys okay?” You heard a knock at the door making you open it.

A smile formed on your face seeing older Canadian as you ushered him inside motioning to him to keep quiet as you were on the phone “yes I’ll let you know when I’m home.” It sounded like you were talking to a parent rather than your boyfriend.

Mat made himself comfortable on your couch as his spread his legs leaning into the soft fabric “I’m going to go now.” And with that you hung up. It irritated you how the first time he called you in over a month was because one of his old teammates mentioned that he was seeing you tonight “you okay kid?” Mat asked furrowing his eyebrows.

Despite the fact that there was only a two year age gap between you both when he met you, you were a freshman in college in your Maple Leafs jersey as you willingly spent your morning in a cafe arguing with the Islander player about how the Canadian team was better. Mat would never admit this to you or Anthony but he thought you were hot, that’s why he invited you to the game when the Maple Leafs came to visit. Why he scored a goal and pointed right up to the box where you sat, but even more so why he scored three goals. But no matter how hard Mat tried to impress you, it was no match against Anthony’s soft smile that he sent you making you weak in the knees.

You sighed sitting next to him “Tito is mad at me again.” You mumbled fiddling with the bracelet that the older boy gave you for your twenty first, the piece of jewellery that you now never take off.

Mat slipped his hand onto your knee giving it a squeeze “don’t worry about him.” The Canadian wanted to act like his crush on you had diminished over the years but when you called him in tears because you realised that you were drowning your sorrows in too much Chinese food for one person to ear during Anthony’s first night in Vancouver. The speed Mat drove across the city going through each red light told him otherwise.

Having him around always comforted you “think I just need to let loose tonight.” You mumbled running your hand through your hair pushing it back unintentionally revealing your collar bones that were highlighted by the low cut of your dress “finally give you a reason to keep up with me.” Mat always drank faster than you as you wrote it down to his lack of a college career where he never got the chance to grow out of it.

You rolled your eyes letting out a laugh “think you’ll be keeping up with me tonight.” You mumbled looking down at your phone to see the time “we’re late,” you groaned quickly getting up. Mat followed your actions with a smile “only means we have to make up for the lost time.” He pointed out making you laugh.

Oh how pretty that sound was.

The bar was packed full of players and their partners with you being the only plus one without a romantic connection to the team. You had practically drunk your way through the bar as the wags believed that you were making up for lost time after you turned down each of their offers to join them on girls night since Anthony left. It was stupid sure, but you always felt out of place when you were with them, so you thought that you’d feel worse without your boyfriend there.

But instead you surprisingly felt like you fitted in as Mat’s arm snaked around your waist “you want another one?” He asked motioning to your empty glass.

The girls had smirks on their faces as they watched your cheeks turn pink feeling his breath on your neck “I’ll come!” You blurted out making them bite the inside of their cheeks to hold in the giggles.

Whilst everyone thought you would marry Anthony, it made all of the girls happy to see you smile and until you or Mat did anything that crossed a line. They didn’t see the point in telling Anthony that his friend was taking care of his girlfriend.

Because to them everything that Mat and you did was friendly, the touches, the smiles, the looks. But what none of them knew was how each of your heart rates increased at the mere thought of the other. Mat locked his hand into yours as he pulled you through the crowd “two refills please.” He asked the bartender with his signature smile.

When the hockey player turned to you he realised you had been staring “what are you thinking about kid?” Mat’s voice was soft as he sat you in the barstool in front of him “how bad would it be if we left?” You cocked your head staring at his Hazel orbs that seemed to be locked into your soul.

Your question made Mat laugh “you had enough?” He frowned wanting to have more of your company for longer. You were quick to shake your head “no of course not,” your cheeks turned pink as you panicked “I just want ice cream and some vodka right now.” The pairing was weird but it seemed to be the only thing going through your mind “well it’s a good thing that I have both of those in my apartment then isn’t it?” His comment made your eyes light up with excitement.

Without thinking he held his hand out to you “they’re all so drunk I don’t think they’ll notice us leave.” Mat mumbled causing you to nod as he pulled you out of the bar somehow without anyone noticing.

During the drive back to his you remained fairly quiet as the Uber driver continued to talk to Mat about what it was like being a hockey player “I’m telling you I think he loves you.” You got the words out between your fit of giggles.

Mat groaned shaking his head “was nervous to have such a pretty girl in his car.” The boy shot back shoving his spoon back into the Häagen-Dazs ice cream container as he ignored the workout he was going to have to do tomorrow.

His compliment made your stomach do flips “think he’d be more affected by you,” you shook your head taking a sip of the expensive vodka that he had given you to drink “if he was gay-“ before you could swallow you let out a laugh resulting in a cough from you.

The hockey player grew alarmed watching your face turn red “you okay?” All you could do was nod until your throat calmed down “you care about me.” You teased rubbing your elbow with his as you smiled.

As much as Mat tried to ignore how he felt about you it was no longer working “of course I do.” The Canadian wanted to scoff that you would ever even consider to think that he didn’t.

But what he didn’t expect as your eyes locked with his was that you would lean forward to kiss him. At first Mat melted into the kiss as this was something he always wanted but as you moved to his lap he was reminded of the fact that you weren’t his “what about Tito?” Mat gasped forcing himself to feel guilty about the situation. Your lips formed a frown “he doesn’t love me anymore Mat,” you shook your head as tears formed in your eyes “and I don’t love him.” It was the first time you had ever actually said that out loud.

Yet it was all true, the fire that was once burning underneath your relationship turned to an occasional spark that had gone into hiding for the last few months. Mat stared at your soft facial expression “why don’t you leave him?” He asked furrowing his brows “don’t want to be alone.” Your confession made you seem week.

Truthfully though you had grown used to Anthony’s company and you were scared to see if you could survive without a boyfriend in your life “you aren’t alone.” Mat sighed tracing his finger along your jaw letting his thumb settle on your lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but if he showed you that he was here for you then maybe you’d leave Anthony for good “prove it to me then baby.” You pushed your lips back into his as the boy walked the two of you to his room letting your body hit his mattress.

Mat was finally going to have his way with you.

The next morning.

You let out a groan as you heard a loud knock at the door “baby go get it,” you grumbled wanting to go back to sleep “fine.” Hearing Mats voice from beside you had the events of last night quickly falling back into your head.

Somehow though the boy seemed calmer about it all as he sent you a smile “could get used to this.” You were wearing one of his old Islanders shirts, the first time you were wearing a piece of merch from the team that wasn’t from Anthony.

It reminded you of the fact that you still had a boyfriend but here you were in his best friends bed covered in hickies whilst he was covered in scratches “you should answer the door.” You pushed your hair out of your face as you began to feel sick. You weren’t upset about last night, you loved the reminder of feeling what it was like to be loved.

To put it simply you felt bad that you had done it to a guy like Anthony, your mother raised you better than that “I’ll send them on their way and then we can talk about last night.” Mat wasn’t an idiot, he could see that you weren’t thinking about Anthony by the way you stared at the promise ring on your finger that he gave you when he came back in February.

It only took you two months to go ahead and fuck that one up “okay,” you nodded biting the inside of your cheek as you struggled to comprehend how you would talk to Anthony after this.

Your stomach did flips as you stared at yourself in Mats bedroom mirror. In that moment you felt like a horrible person and there was honestly no denying that you were one. Your precious Anthony would never cross a line like the one that you had and you only hoped that you had enough time to fix it before everything was thrown back in your face “what took you so long dude?”

That voice sent a chill down your spine as your eyes went wide with any desire of wanting extra sleep quickly being thrown out of the window.

What the fuck was Anthony doing at Mat’s door?

#mat barzal oneshot #mat barzal x oc #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #tito beauvillier #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey oneshot #amber writes fics

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bordysbae · 1 year

Note

hi can you 55. “he won’t stop talking about you” with mat barzal?

“meeting the team”

mathew barzal x reader

ps: let’s imagine that tito is still on the isles in this!! also not proof read so sorry if there’s mistakes

moving to new york was easily the best decision you’ve ever made. within two weeks of living here you met your boyfriend mat, whom you’ve been dating for a little over a month, at small coffee shop around the corner from your apartment, which is on the opposite corner of his apartment. mat is a professional hockey player, which came as a shock to your parents when you first told them about him.

“mat, why have i never met your teammates yet?” you ask him, as you stretch out your legs across his, which are laying horizontally to you.

“oh, honestly i haven’t even really thought about that, the season only started a month ago. would you like to meet them?” he asks you, looking away from the tv to face towards you.

“of course i would! i’ve heard so much about all of them, especially tito. i’d love to meet him.”

“well, i can make that happen! i know you’ve only met two of the wives but i’ve heard they’re all dying to meet you. at practice tomorrow i’ll bring up having a team get together with the girlfriends and wives, how does that sound?” he smiles at you, making your heart swell.

“thank you mat, seriously. you’re the best,” you smile, sitting up and kissing his lips. you slide your legs off of mat’s, and rise off of the couch. you get yourself ready for bed, mat joining you in your bed shortly after.

“when you wake up i’ll be gone, but i think you already kind of new that” mat chuckles as you both get comfortable in the cold sheets. “yeah that’s what i expected, goodnight babe,” you yawn.

—

you’re at work when mat calls you, which is concerning since he knows your work hours. luckily you have your own large cubicle off to the farther end of the office, so answering your phone isn’t a major issue. “hello? everything okay?” you ask mat through the phone.

“hi babe, sorry for calling during work hours but we just got out of practice. i talked to the guys and i think we’re all going to dinner tonight, you down?” mat says. you hear in the background the sound of an elevator, meaning he’s back at his apartment.

“of course! i get off work in two-ish hours so i’ll go straight to my apartment and get ready.” you say, checking the time on the upper left corner of your phone. “sounds like a plan! i’ll pick you up at 7, love you babe!” he says before ending the call.

—

as you finish putting in your gold hoop earrings, you receive a text from mat letting you know he’s outside. you scurry out of your apartment, checking your lipstick in the mirror on the way out. once outside at ground level, you spot mathew’s silver bmw. as you open the door you get a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the familiar scent you’re always craving.

“holy, y/n woah, you look amazing. trying to impress someone?” he jokes as he begins driving away from the building.

“oh stop it. i didn’t know if i was dressed to casual or not, am i?” you say gesturing to your black jeans, white turtle neck with a black leather jacket atop.

“no not at all, you’re dressed perfectly. i promise you have absolutely nothing to worry about, they’re gonna love you.” he takes his hand off of the wheel and interlaces his fingers with yours. you guys arrive at the restaurant not too long after, and get taken to a large table with majority of the team and their wives or girlfriends.

“hi guys! everyone meet my girlfriend y/n!” mat smiles, pulling out the chair for you to sit in. you chuckle at his manners, and greet those at the table around you. across from you and mat is who you’ve been introduced to as anthony.

“anthony it’s nice meet you, mat literally never stops talking about you. it’s always ‘tito did this’ or ‘me and tito are going golfing today’ blah blah blah, no offense but it gets a little annoying. it feels like you’re a third in our relationship!” you chuckle, making anthony laugh as well.

“oh i could say the same for you, he won’t stop talking about you. oh god you should’ve heard him before you guys were dating, he was so nervous to ask you out it was like talking to an insecure teenager,” anthony laughs, making mat roll his eyes.

“oh be quiet. y/n don’t listen to him, he’s dragging this out.” mat groans. “me be quiet? you’re the one who never stops talking about y/n!” anthony grins at his own comment, making both you and mat chuckle.

“look what you did y/n, you made my best friend expose my secrets!” mat exclaims. “but mat, i thought you said that anthony was ‘dragging out’ how much you talk about me?” you smirk.

“okay well, maybe he wasn’t lying,” mat blushes, scratching the back of his neck shyly.

“yeah, exactly my point,” anthony says, rolling his eyes jokingly. the rest of the night is tons of fun, getting to know the other wags, and even the other teammates. needless to say, you love mats teammates and will definitely be attending more ‘team bonding’ events.

#mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier

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fallinallincurls · 1 year

Text

OT Winners & Baby Kisses

a fic?? from me?? it’s been a little bit but this little blurb finally got finished and i couldn’t wait to share it! the whole idea was inspired by a gif set thanks to @tonyspep and it was the cutest thing to write! also yes, beau is an islander here so we’re ignoring the trade lol.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.4k

~~~~~

It might be the prettiest goal of his career. Not that Anthony cares. All that matters is the Isles won the game against Toronto in overtime thanks to his top shelf beauty that found the back of the net. His teammates surrounded him in one big hug almost instantly and he got endless helmet taps from everyone for what he did.

But when the celebration is over on the ice and he’s heading back to the locker room for an interview with Shannon, his thoughts are focused on something not even closely related to hockey or the big win.

The love of his life and his little boy.

“Beau! Thanks so much for taking a couple minutes to chat.” Shannon greets him with that same warm smile she always has whenever she catches the boys for interviews. Anthony says it’s no problem and that he’s happy to do it, especially because the fans love these little videos too. “I won’t keep you long. I know there’s a few others who want to congratulate you on the big win.” She continues and Beau nods in agreement.

After going over the questions and trying to think of good responses, Anthony puts all his attention on Shannon and the short interview. The faster it gets done, the quicker he gets to see you and his son.

“I’m here with Anthony Beauvillier, who scored the gorgeous OT winner to give the Isles yet another victory. Beau, can you walk us through the play and how the goal came to be?”

Anthony answers, words leaving his lips in a coherent way and he can’t help but smile thinking back on the goal that doesn’t seem like it just happened. He lucked out in terms of getting great teammates and he loves every second of playing with these guys.

He’s so zeroed in on the camera and his statements about the game, that he almost completely misses the soft murmuring that distinguishingly belongs to a toddler. But he listens to Shannon and tries to tell himself it’s not who he thinks it is.

“We heard your family was here tonight, and if they were, how did that impact your game?”

At that very moment, when Anthony’s breath is stolen away just at the mention of the two most important people in my life, he hears an unmistakable “dada!” followed by toddling footsteps that are heading in his direction. When his blue eyes shift, he spots his sweet little boy running towards him with his arms wide open.

“Frankie!” Anthony immediately mirrors the excited tone of his son as he kneels down to scoop him up in his arms. The happiest giggle escapes past Frankie’s lips and it’s a moment Beau wants to remember forever. He knows that you can’t be far behind and sure enough, he spots you in no time.

Just behind the crew and others passing through the hallway, Beau finds you with a look of adoration and panic on your face. When his gaze meets yours, you mouth a simple “sorry!” even if you both know nothing would’ve stopped Frankie from getting to his father the second he recognized him.

“Sorry, Shannon. Looks like we have a special guest joining us.” Anthony chuckles, adjusting Frankie against his hip. The little boy waved enthusiastically at the woman before settling against his dad’s shoulder.

“Dada win game!” Frankie exclaims, placing a hand against Beau’s cheek while flashing the biggest grin possible. “Win!”

“That’s right, we did win. Good job!” Anthony replies before kissing the top of Frankie’s head and turning back to Shannon. With one silent look, he gave her the okay to ask his son a question which is something he knows will be too cute to pass up.

“Frankie, how cool was it to see your dad score tonight?”

“This much!” Frankie says, holding his hands as far apart as he can. “I yell for Dada when he got goal.”

“I heard you on the ice, buddy. You and Mama.”

The little boy giggles, the sound filling Anthony’s heart with so much love he swears it might burst, before he nuzzles his face into the crook of his dad’s neck. It’s the telltale sign that Frankie has gotten a little shy which only seems to make the moment even sweeter.

“Thanks so much for your time, Beau. Enjoy the rest of the night with your family. Back to you guys!” Shannon finishes the interview, giving him and Frankie a quick goodbye before the broadcast crew leaves.

Before he can even adjust Frankie’s little Islanders beanie so the one floppy piece of hair on his forehead gets tucked back underneath, you’re walking right up to them. The smile on your face can only be compared to the sun and Anthony swears he has never known a love like this.

“Hey, bub.” You say softly, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips that immediately makes Frankie giggle. “You killed it out there tonight. We’re so proud of you.” Anthony can’t stop the swelling in his chest at the compliment. He usually hates any kind of attention surrounding his play, but from you and Frankie, he would take it anyday.

“Thank you, mon amor.” Anthony murmurs, the French rolling off his tongue so smoothly. “What a surprise this one was! Surprising me in an interview.” He continues, bouncing Frankie on his hip for a moment and the little boy laughs before burying his face against Beau’s.

“I happy for goal!” Frankie exclaims with a laugh before squishing a big, dramatic kiss against his father’s cheek. A giggle slips past your lips at the sight. You’ve never known this kind of happiness before and you don’t ever want it to disappear.

“Well, I’m just as happy to see you.” Anthony says, booping Frankie’s nose to get an adorable smile in response, “And you.” He finishes and pulls you in for a soft kiss that’s full of love.

When the two reluctantly pull away, everything in the world feels just right then. Frankie is fisting Anthony’s blue jersey in his tiny hand as he snuggles into his dad and the adrenaline of the game is still rushing through each one of you although your son seems to be getting sleepy. If this is what the rest of your life will be, will feel like, because of Anthony and your little boy, there’s nothing else in the world you want.

“C’mon bubs, Daddy needs to get changed so we can go home and you’re getting tired.” You prompt, reaching over to transfer the toddler to your arms. But before Frankie can respond or Anthony can hand him over, you hear someone yelling as they turn the corner towards where you’re standing.

“Beau! Dude, where have you been?” Barzy calls out before he takes in the scene. “Hey, Y/N! And Frankie! What’s up, little guy?” Mat says with excitement, holding out a fist for Frankie to fist bump.

“Unca Maty!” Your son almost squeals and Anthony has no choice but to put him down so he can toddle over to his best friend on the team.

“I didn’t know you two would be here.” Mat continues with a smile as kneels down to Frankie’s level before picking him up. “Dad scored a goal just for you, Frankie, huh?”

“Yeah! You score too!” Frankie replies, beaming while gently patting Mat’s cheeks. You can’t help but laugh at the scene and you lean into Anthony for a moment, just watching the little boy who you both love so much interact with one of your closest friends.

“Wanna go say hi to the boys? They would be thrilled to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Frankie cheers in response to Mat’s question and you only shake your head before Mat promises he’ll be back with him soon.

“I should go supervise. Make sure nothing crazy happens.” Anthony says quietly, hands finding your hips and his gaze never breaks away from you. It’s almost as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

“That would be a good idea. Plus the faster we get home, the faster Frankie goes down for bed and the faster we celebrate, yeah?” Anthony’s eyes go wide as you keep talking and your voice begins getting softer and softer. OT winner or not, you still would’ve wanted to celebrate him but you already had the perfect thing in mind.

“I’ll make sure Mat doesn’t hog him for too long.” Beau smirks, kissing you deeply before heading towards the locker room. And as you’re standing there shaking your head as he runs away with a dopey smile on his face, you know you couldn’t be any happier.

#anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier fics #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #new york islanders #vancouver canucks #anthony beauvillier fluff

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youunravelme · 8 months

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kenn's 1k celebration!

again, i cannot say thank you ENOUGH for all the friends i've made here and those who show love to the things i write. simply put: it means the absolute world! your asks make my day, even if you're just telling my something you'd consider mundane. and your reblogs and likes get me through the "i wanna delete everything i've ever written" phases.

and to @lukeevangelista and @dani746, thank you for always supporting me and helping me write. i love bouncing ideas off of you two.

ANYWAY

onto the celebration!

faqs:

how long will this last? until i'm overwhelmed and cannot write anymore (but i'm guessing a week or two?, i'll update when i have a concrete answer).

what are you writing? i'll write little drabbles based on what you send me. you can ask for literally anything about the people i write for (no smut though, i am not that talented). it could be a drabble or a missed scene from a fic or series i've written (tatgylb for anyone wanting more content from that series, or any other one shots i've written).

who are you writing for? jack hughes, anthony beauvillier, and mat barzal

can i send in a prompt? of course! my only request is you type out/copy the prompt in full so i don't have to guess which one you're talking about!

list of prompts:

physical romantic gestures prompts

kisses

fluff and angst prompts

100 ways to say i love you

angsty prompts

more angsty prompts

can i just say hi? or do i have to send in a request? please say hello! or literally anything if you're comfortable!

where can i find your other work? here's my masterlist since this celebration will be pinned until the it ends!

#1k celebration #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine

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ivyglow · 2 years

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love is an open door | stepdad!anthony beauvillier

A/n: I had this idea forever, it started w an ask and I decided to turn it into an imagine. It's quite simple, I hope you guys like it. Oh! and I'm sorry, sweeties, it's not proofread!!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: baby talk, supportive parents (maybe this should be a tw, not sure, but better be safe than sorry), food mention and that's pretty much all I guess. Let me know if you find any other <3 oh! and be aware this is pure fluff!

pairing: stepdad!anthony beauvillier x female!singlemom!reader

Summary: y/n is a single mother who starts dating a hockey player. Months into the relationship, she begins falling in love with said player, but the last thing she was expecting was her daughter to love him too to the point of asking Anthony to be her father.

see my masterlist | check here if you want to be on my new taglist

you can support my writing w your like and reblog

none of these pics are mine, they're from Pinterest. the only thing I own is the design!

Being a “single mother” -as people liked to call it- wasn’t easy. Especially considering y/n has been doing it since she was eighteen years old, all by herself, granted she had her parent’s help, but she wanted to take the responsibility and although she counted on her dad to take care of Madison during finals, or her mom to pick up the kid on daycare while she was busy with work, y/n used to do everything in her power to not fill her parents with her duties. For four years she only had time for Madison and her work, the former being her main priority since the beginning, so that meant not only didn’t y/n have time for boyfriends, but she also didn’t want to. She didn’t want to risk getting heartbroken again and now involving her daughter in the process, she didn’t want to spend her energy getting to know someone only to realize that he was not the one, that he wouldn’t be a good person to keep around her kid. So she carried on happily going with things, proud of her growth, proud of her baby girl, proud of everything she had accomplished, and she was sure there wouldn’t be anybody else for a long time, that life would consist only of her and Madison…until Anthony came around.

She was afraid at first because being around Anthony made her feel safe and cared about, and what if things don’t work out? What if Maddie doesn’t like him? Her head was full of “what if’s”, but not for long whereas Tito was fast to brush them away, he talked and talked, and told her about how he felt and how he wanted to get into her life and meet Madison, and how he respected her decision whatever it was and he would wait patiently, always.

And that he did.

Their relationship would only get stronger with time, both of them had now on each other a shoulder to lean on, and while Tito didn’t meet Maddie y/n would tell him everything about the kid, her likes and dislikes, her favorite color, what she hated and what would make her giggle. And weren’t Anthony falling even harder after all these details?! Every passing month there was the hope that this would be the one where he would meet the kid, where he and y/n would finally let all their walls down. It was a couple of months, but he was understanding.

After all, all this waiting and anguish proved to be worth it when he first met Madison. Your shy four year old fell in love instantly with Anthony and he became part of your life completely. Not only did he know Maddie, but she actually enjoyed his company and he proved to be great with kids. Tito would have tea parties with her and they would watch movies together whenever she asked him because he would give in just that easily, she would ask him whatever she wanted and he would gladly answer yes.

That’s how y/n ended up getting ready for a movie theater night on her free day from work. Frozen II was finally out on the theater and Madison wanted to watch the sequel. No doubt, she wanted Beau to be there because they would watch the first one together on the couch whenever he visited. Over the moon because Anthony was joining the movie theater that night she asked to wear her favorite overalls and held tight to her stuffed dragon Beauvillier gifted her a while ago.

When Beauvillire rings the bell, Madison runs so fast to open the door y/n can’t help but laugh. He’s standing there holding a bag of something and y/n instantly knows it's for Maddie because he loves to spoil her and she can smell the sugar from afar.

“Hey, little one!” there's a bright smile on his face, a full and big smile she came to realize he doesn’t use with everyone. “I got you and mommy some chocolate chip cookies from my favorite coffee shop,” he crouches down to her level and she smiles before wrapping her little arms around him and saying a shy thank you. He gets up and y/n hugs him too, leaving a small peck on his lips.

After settling Madison on the baby car seat he bought specially for her -his nephew and niece being way too small for the seat- they drove to the theater. The whole ride there’s some calm music playing while Madison goes on about how Frozen 2 is gonna be cool and she can’t help but watch it, while Tito agrees and they discuss theories -because yes, she got him into the movie just like she does with everyone around, Madison was this charismatic.

The night went on smoothly, the three of them shared a medium popcorn bucket, Tito drank orange juice with Maddie while y/n went with water and they shared a bag of skittles close to the end of the movie. He would smile at y/n every once in a while and hold her hand, but his focus was mainly on Maddie because she seemed so happy and energetic, she was glowing and so was y/n because Madison’s happiness was hers too.

When the movie was over y/n went to the bathroom and Maddie waited for her mother with Beau, her small hands being swallowed by his and y/n couldn’t help but notice how they looked for the people passing by. They looked like father and daughter. Y/n took her time washing her face and fixing her hair since the two times she came to the bathroom during the movie was to take Maddie to pee. After washing and drying her hands she got out and the scene in front of her melted her heart. Madison is now on Tito’s arms, head rested on his shoulder and eyes closed, her face seems so peaceful y/n instantly knows she’s in her deep slumber, she smiles walking to them.

“Hey,” it's a whisper, even though the place is full of people and there’s noise enough to wake Madison.

“Hey, there” he answers, giving y/n one of his signature smiles, “she seemed tired and she asked me to hold her, is she asleep?” he asked, turning a bit so she could see Maddie’s face.

“Yup, it usually takes forever for her to sleep outside especially when it’s noisy around,” y/n points out and he smiles shyly. “Thank you,” she whispers holding his free hand and Tito blinks at her.

“No need to thank me, y/n. You know I love her,” he voices while holding her close. He motions for y/n to grab his hand when she starts to walk to the parking lot, their fingers thread together and his hold is warm, Tito always feels so warm. There’s the safety sensation around, he makes y/n’s heart warm too and she knows it’s real love, she knows she was finally the lucky one.

It’s only months later, Tito being around more than ever, that Maddie decides that she wants him to come to the parent's reunion at school. Tito only went to Madison’s school a couple of times, most of them to either drop her or get her after classes, only two of them for her recital/presentation. That being said, it would only take a bat of an eyelash and a pout for Tito to do whatever she wanted, so that's how y/n found herself sitting together at a small chair sided by Anthony who held Madison on his lap. She had this big smile on her face, and her expression only grew prideful when the kindergarten teacher dropped some drawings and exercises on the table.

“As I was saying, Maddie is such a great kid. She’s fast to learn, always curious, and ready to help others” the teacher smiles at both of you.

“Look, daddy!!! I made this one just yesterday, it’s me, you, and mommy!!” Madison kept explaining the colorful sheet and y/n could see the doubtful expression her boyfriend gave her as if asking if that was ok.

Tito smiled attentively at Maddie’s explanation. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and y/n smiled without really knowing what to do. The teacher went on talking about Madison, mainly good things, while Tito nodded his head and eventually asked some things. Y/n only had the energy to say goodbye at the end of the meeting and try to pretend she wasn’t shocked while Tito drove them home.

Their routine went on, they would have dinner together, maybe watch a movie or play with Madison, she would fall asleep easily afterwards and Tito and y/n would take the time to enjoy each other all alone. This time however, both of them were distracted by what Madison kept calling Anthony.

“Baby, why are you calling Tito your daddy?” y/n asked once they got home and changed, Madie sitting between both of them, small eyes focused on the screen.

“because, mommy, in school one of my friends told me that a daddy is someone who takes care of you, gets you to school and reads for you to sleep…daddy Tito also loves me, right?” She looked over at him as if waiting for confirmation and he smiled and nodded.

“I do love you, sweetheart.”

Your heart melted when she climbed closer to him and laid her head on his chest.

“You can be my daddy, right?!” she asked, looking at him, curiosity and hope all over her small eyes. Anthony caressed her curly hair, kissed her forehead and looked briefly at y/n as if asking. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat when Madison asked again and she couldn’t help but nod to him. She knew he loved both of them, knew he would be a permanent figure in their lives. He was kind, generous and caring. He was everything Madie needed in a father figure and he was also everything you once looked for in a lover.

“Of course, sweetheart, I would love to be your daddy,” his reply is soft and y/n can see some tears streaming down his face. Madison is quick to notice as well, and her kid brain cannot help but ask: “are you sad, daddy?? What happened?”

“I’m not sad, love. These are happy tears. Daddy is really happy to have you and your mom, that’s all,” he explains and y/n feels her face wet. Madison hugs him tight and Beauvillier extends his arms, opening space for his girlfriend. The three of them hug, the adults knowing they’ll eventually have a deeper conversation about the topic, and Madison happy to have the family she always dreamt about.

Love was really an open door and y/n had just pushed it wider to walk in with her daughter and Anthony.

taglist: @iwantahockeyhimbo @sorryjustafangirl @mortirolo @barzysreputation @stuetzlesbitch @gotpucks @extratragic @ebonyyyy-e @tysonsjosty @elitebarzal @heatherawoowoo @joshsandersons @beauvious @besthockeyfics @barzal-burakovsky @matbarzls @fallinallincurls @sweetlittlegingy @calgarycanuck @boqvistsbabe @stars-canucks @davopuck @hockeyplayerstories (strikethrough texts are urls I wasnt able to find/tag)

#im sorry if this sounds a bit formal somehow (?) lol it's been forever since my last imagine and I've been writing essays everyday ugh #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #hockey imagine #op: imagine #dad!anthony beauvillier #hockey dad #mels writing #baby fever train #new york islanders imagine #isles imagine #black!reader #anthony beauvillier x black!reader

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heavenlyhischier · 1 month

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he was your older brother’s best friend, of course you had a crush on him. you pined after him for years knowing that nothing would ever happen, but then it did. a one night stand left your heart shattered and your mind lost, but you forced yourself to move on from him. you told yourself he was a bad idea, that he was no better than the hockey players you’d been warned about. what happens when he’s traded to the very city you live in and your brother offers up your spare room as a place for him to stay? will sparks fly, or will the catch your heart on fire for the second time?

note: this is going to be an interactive au and a mini series in one so feel free to send me any ideas, thoughts, questions you have about anything!

i. part one: how it all began

#sparks fly master post #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #tito beauvillier imagine #tito beauvillier x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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col-islander43 · 7 months

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Questions

Anthony Beauvillier x Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but let me know if there are any

Word count: {696}

You and Anthony were cuddled up on the couch under a blanket you had given him when you first started dating. The movie had become background noise as you soaked up every second possible, trying to ignore the thought of your flight being less than twenty-four hours away.

Your legs were tangled together, his hand was caressing your face, and as his arm tightened around your waist, a giggle escaped your lips "I don't think I can get any closer, babe."

The smile he gave you hurt you more than you'd ever admit because the sadness he didn't want to show was clear in your eyes. It wasn't his fault, he wasn't intentionally trying to hurt you, life just got in the way.

When he told you about the trade, you knew long distance was going to be hard, but you convinced yourself it would be like an extended roadie. A very extended roadie. You were lucky with the somewhat matching schedules, visiting each other was easy, but they didn't make living without the love of your life easier.

He never asked you to make the move, he wanted to, but he couldn't ask that from you, to leave everything you built, over the years, behind. Little did he know you'd drop everything in a heartbeat because he was worth it. You weren't upset when he didn't ask you because you knew he had his motives, he always did so long distance it was. At first, you managed, but it was slowly breaking you and you tried hiding it, but he knew. Of course, he knew.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." he whispered. It made your heart skip a beat and as he felt your body stiffen under his arms, he was quick to reassure you "It's not what you think, promise."

He felt you relax a bit and pressed a kiss to your lips to seal the promise like he always did. "The past days with you have got me thinking. I love you, you know that, but this isn't working, mon ange. It's breaking you apart." you opened your mouth to reply, but he shook his head, cutting you off "Don't try and deny it, I see those sad smiles you think you are hiding."

A bashful smile overtook your face as you hid in the crook of his neck "I don't know what you're talking about. And I hate to break it to you, but it sounds exactly like I was thinking."

"Can you look at me, please?" You shook your head, not wanting to face what was coming next and the kiss he placed on the top of your head did little to reassure you. "Look at me, chéri." he pleaded.

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes for what you hoped wasn't the last time "If you're going to break up with me, at least don't do it while we're cuddled up on your couch." Your voice had a sad tone to it and he hated it, but he couldn't stop the loving smile from spreading across his face, and unknowingly to him, it made your blood simmer a bit.

"Could you be happy here? with me?" he asked in between a chuckle, ripping the bandaid off, and he was glad he got good at hiding his nerves because otherwise, he'd be shaking, but your reaction was worth it. Your jaw was slacked as your eyes were trying to figure out if he was either joking or lying. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you started stammering in a breathy voice, trying to put a sentence together and failing.

Anthony placed both his hands on your cheeks, trying to hold back laughter "Chéri, breathe, gather your thoughts, and then tell me what's on your mind."

Doing as you were told, you slapped his chest lightly "Why didn't you just ask that from the beginning?!" your voice slightly raised towards the end of the sentence and Tito couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

"I had to work up the nerve. It's not every day where I ask a pretty girl to move in with me."

-------------------------------

Thanks for all the love on my other pieces, it means a lot🤗

I don't like the title so suggestions are very welcome!

It's been awhile, but I'll always miss Beau on the Islanders.

Excuse any mistakes, I wrote this while I was watching the Isles game.

Feedback is appreciated, hope you enjoy!

#anthony beauvillier #Anthony Beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #Vancouver Canucks imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #frankie writes...

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lovinbarzal · 8 months

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CAPTAIN O CAPTAIN | AB72

anthony beauvillier x fem! hughes! reader

masterlist | a/n OMG QUINNIFER CAPTAIN?! just know that i did scream in my science class when i saw also reader is jacks twin && might make this au but idk yet🫶🏼

y/n.hughes has posted !

liked _quinnhughes, jackhughes, and others

y/n.hughes omg i don't even know where to begin🥹

my (ONLY) brother (i don't claim the other 2) is CAPTAIN of the vancouver canucks! omg huggy bear...if anyone deserves this, it's you. you've always been my #1 supporter and always helped me feel like i wasn't just the hughes' family only daughter or jacks/quinns/lukes sister. you truly deserve this title.

(give beau my number pls🤞🏼)

load comments

_quinnhughes aww little sista got me tearing up🥹

↳ y/n.hughes love you, big brotha💓

↳ _quinnhughes i'm not going you beau's number

↳ y/n.hughes BROTHER FOR SALE!

lhughes_06 CAPTAIN HUGGY BEAR REPORTING FOR DUTY!!!!!!

dylanduke25 captain material👔

trevorzegras captain quinnifer huggy bear hughes🗣️

↳ _quinnhughes i hate you

fanacc1 her wanting beau's number is such a mood tbh😭😭

↳ fanacc2 no it's not...it's giving whore

↳ fanacc1 huh? how?😭

↳ fanacc2 using her brother to get guys for their money🤦🏻‍♀️

↳ y/n.hughes BRUH WHAT?!🗣️🗣️🗣️

barzal97 i'll give you tito's number

↳ y/n.hughes i'm looking for a new brother...would you care for a contract?

↳ _quinnhughes stop ✋

edwards.73 quinnjamin🦅

titobeauvi91 check your dms

↳ y/n.hughes OH EM GOD

↳ _quinnhughes 🤦🏻‍♀️

canucks captain o' captain 🧢

bohorvart congrats quinn🎉🍾

#anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier #x reader #jack hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #vancover canucks #ig edit

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doc-pickles · 7 months

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til forever falls apart | anthony beauvillier

IG edits

because I can’t be stopped, here’s some instagram edits for my fic til forever falls apart that I hope y’all enjoy!

xoxo

nina

yourusername

yourusername baby beau coming soon 🩷

tagged: titobeauvi91

barzal97 can’t wait to be uncle mat

titobeauvi91 love you baby 😘

canucks Can’t wait for another Beauvillier to join the family!

titobeauvi91

titobeauvi91 hudson mathew beauvillier ❤️ my wife is freaking badass for giving me this sweet boy. love you forever baby!

tagged: yourusername

yourusername hud and i love you papa 🩷

mbarzal97 my booooy

user19 HIS MIDDLE NAME IS MATHEW? IM UNWELL

_quinnhughes omw for baby snuggles 🏃‍♂️

yourusername

yourusername hud’s first hockey game! he screamed at daddy the whole time!

tagged: titobeauvi91

canucks We loved having Hudson at the game!

_quinnhughes He didn’t scream at me… For once…

titobeauvi91 Love my biggest fans ❤️

user97 Tito as a dad is KILLING me 😭

#tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #tito beauvillier fic #hockey fic #hickey imagine #nina writes

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swissboyhisch · 10 months

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Drunken Mistakes

Pairing: Mathew Barzal x Reader

Summary: After receiving some bad news, you just wanted to not be alone. After a couple drinks, what most likely is a bad decision, starts to sound too good to miss.

Word Count: 2576

Warnings: Alcohol, friends with benefits, bad thoughts

NEXT PART >>

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Alcohol. Something to numb the pain. Anything honestly.

After the news you just received, you wanted some kind of distraction. You didn’t want to stay in your hotel room alone. Being in the city, away from your home. You wanted some kind of comfort. Sure, you had some friends living in the city, but everyone was busy. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Mat then popped into your mind. An ex-fling. Your childhood best friend that you had reconnected with. One you had a friends-with-benefits situation with. After nights of constant talking and hours-long phones on the way home from work, you had caught feelings for Mat. In return, he ghosted you. Yes, he had warned you not to catch feelings, but it still hurt.

Neither of you had messaged each other for months. The last thing you discussed was your travels through Europe and how you were doing amazingly. During that conversation, Mat had admitted he was lonely. But something was telling you to text him at this very moment. Maybe it was just your desperate need not to be alone.

Hey

Within minutes Mat had replied. When he asked how you were going, you told him the truth. Not good… Well, more like horrible. With that admission, Mat drove to your hotel to pick you up. Promising to be there as quickly as he could.

You grabbed some clothes for the night and the phone charger before heading down to the lobby to wait for Mat. It didn’t take long before the familiar mop of hair weaved through the few people standing about the lobby.

“Hey,” Mat muttered, pulling you into a hug. He could tell you weren’t doing the greatest. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You relax into his body. Your body goes slack in Mat’s arms, holding you against him. “Can we go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” Mat replies.

The brunette grabbed your bag from your hands and placed his hand on your lower back to guide you out of the hotel. His luxurious car was parked in the valet. Mat opened your door, allowing you to slide into the passenger seat and get comfortable. Once Mat pulled out of the hotel, he drove through the city. The music playing on Bluetooth became the soundtrack to your life as you stared out the window.

“The new place,” You finally spoke up, seeing the building come into view.

“Yeah, the new place.”

You noticed things that were not Mat’s when you walked into his apartment. A pair of shoes near the door that wasn’t his style. A pair of keys to a car that wasn’t his. Well, that you knew of.

“No roommate?”

Mat chuckled at the question, “I got a roommate, one of the traded guys.”

That made your heart hurt—more than it already was. Anthony Beauvillier was one of your closest friends, especially when you and Mat were hooking up. And now he lives in Vancouver. If you were hurting, you could only imagine how Mat was taking the whole ordeal.

“Have you talked to Tito recently?” You ask.

“Every day. Want a drink?”

The yes flew out of your mouth faster than you could predict. After looking through Mat’s vast selection of expensive alcohol, you decided to have a Jack and Coke. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and mixer, a glass from the cupboard, and a shot glass.

“How strong?”

“At least a double,” You answered.

Then the tour began. He started in the kitchen and living room. The occasional picture of his family is scattered on the walls and shelves. Next was the balcony. Quite considerable and well-decorated. The area's main feature is a comfy couch facing the city's view. The last room on the list was his bedroom, which was very Mat: simple colours, well shades of black and white. The wardrobe with mirrors for sliding doors was on the left as you walked in. Across the room was a large window. A dresser with a tv opposite his bed sat centre on the wall to your right—every bit Mat as you’d like.

“My teammate isn’t home, so do you wanna watch a movie in the lounge room?”

“Let me get comfy first,” You mutter, placing your drink on the dresser as you put your bag in the corner of the room.

After changing, you joined Mat on the couch. His feet kicked up on the poof he had, and an enormous blanket lay over his lower half. Without saying anything, you slid under the blanket and sat directly beside him, despite the space on the couch.

“What movie?”

You look at the options on Netflix, “I don’t know.”

“You choose,” Mat decided, handing you the remote.

“Why?” You laughed.

“You’re the guest.”

“Come on, Mat.”

You gave up on that argument quickly and just flicked through the app. Nothing piqued your interest, and Mat wasn’t any help. Then you came upon Molly’s Game. From the description, it was about an Olympian who runs a high-end poker game for the mafia and prominent stars who ends up on the radar of the FBI. It sounded exciting, and you hadn’t watched it, so you pressed play.

The two of you sat watching the movie, alcoholic drink in hand. The occasional comment or questions asked between you about things that had happened recently. After a bit, you finally got comfy. You were leaning into Mat’s side, head on the shoulder. His arm slides up and around your shoulders. He was holding you tightly against his side. Both of you were settled. You came to trace shapes on his chest as you focused on the movie. His lightly ghosted up and down your back.

It was quiet until Mat broke the silence between you both. “I forgot how easy it is with you.”

You felt that deeply. Whenever you and Mat had spent time together in the past, you didn’t have to try. Didn’t have to actively think about what to do. You both just worked so well together. Sometimes you wondered why he didn’t want a relationship with you if that was his thoughts.

“Me too.”

You finished your drink quickly. It's likely quicker than you should have. Mat didn’t hesitate to grab your empty glass from your hand and get up to make you another drink. You watched as he walked around the couch and to the kitchen. Even twisting so you can lean on the back of the couch and watch him. He saw you looking at him and smiled at you. For a quick second, you felt those butterflies in your stomach, similar to when you two had first hooked up.

“Want to do a shot?” Mat asked as he finished making your drink.

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. Quickly joining Mat at his alcohol stash. “Of what?”

“I don’t know.”

After having a flashback to having had many nights when you were younger doing shots, you knew what you wouldn’t shoot. “Anything but vodka.”

“How about Fireball?” Mat asked as he grabbed his half-empty bottle.

“Sounds great.”

Mat poured out the two shots. Pouring on the smaller side as the shooters were quite large. You both clinked your glasses before throwing back the amber liquid. Cinnamon. Quite pleasant, you thought. You both put down the glass before sharing a laugh. That was when you looked up at Mat and saw how close you were. Without hesitating, you went in for the kiss. Sure, neither of you had discussed how the night would end between you, but it seemed like there was an underlying tension, sexual.

You both smiled at each other and settled back onto the couch. You were drinking and paying little attention to the movie on the large screen. Most of your attention was on Mat. Your hand started to wander. Starting on his chest and then making your way up to his jaw. He currently had more stubble than you had seen him with in the past.

“I like the scruff,” You comment.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Then silence once more. Both yours and Mat’s hands wandered, touching each other lightly. Nothing too inappropriate. Even the occasional snuggle into Mat’s chest resulted in his hand coming to scratch the back of your head lightly. Just comforting touches that you needed after the news you had heard earlier.

You watched Mat skull the last bit of his beer, then place the empty bottle on the coffee table to his right. After handing him your drink to place on it, you struggle to get out of the tangled mess of blankets and legs. You made your way through the dark, well, low light, to the kitchen to grab a beer for the fridge. Mat watched in amusement as you walked a little tipsy.

“You didn’t have to,” Mat stated as you opened the fridge.

You grabbed the beer he was drinking, “Twist top?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” You hum before opening the bottle and returning to Mat’s side, handing him his drink before snuggling back to his side. Not without a quick peck to his lips.

Midway through the movie and a few more drinks later, the kissing intensified. Your hand cups Mat’s scruffy jaw as he pulls you in closer. Fingers tangled into your hair.

“Wanna move to the bedroom?” Mat mumbles against your lips.

“Sure.” Mat turned off the tv and placed the empty glass and bottles on the kitchen counter. You went to the bedroom while he did that. Placing your phone on charge and climbing in under the covers.

Mat walked in and slipped off his t-shirt, revealing his abs. A sight you had missed. God, he was so good-looking. Angelic really. The light was changed to red, a staple between you and Mat when you were hooking up. It also doubled as a warning to Tito that you two were fucking.

“Looking hot,” You grin as Mat makes his way to bed with you.

With a hard tug, Mat falls on top of you. He dipped his head once more to capture your lips with his. You pressed your hips against him, feeling his hard-on under his sweats. Hands slid under your jumper. Pulling up the hoodie. Mat broke the kiss to slip off the article of clothing and throwing in the direction of your bag before returning to kiss your lips.

“Mat,” You moaned as the brunette moved to kiss down your neck.

He gently bit that sweet spot he had memorised, then smirked as you moaned again. “Found it.”

His words made you laugh lightly. Then cut off again by a moan since Mat slid a hand up into your hair. A tangled mess and slight tug. A staple move by the big-shot hockey player. In retaliation, you grazed your hands over his cock under his sweats, making Mat halt in his movements, a silent moan. You tug his sweatpants a little.

“You want them off?” Mat smirks.

“Of course.”

Mat listens to your needs and stands up, gripping the waistband and sliding them down. His hard cock sprung out of the waistband. Slapping his abs with a satisfying skin-on-skin sound.

“Your turn.” You lifted your hips, allowing Mat to slide off your sweatpants. Mat chuckled at your underwear. “You planned on getting some, didn’t you?”

“Can ya tell?”

Without saying anymore, Mat slipped off your underwear and pulled your legs, sliding your body to the edge of the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. You needed him closer.

“Mat…”

You reached your hands up and pulled him down to your lips. Lips. Tongues. Wandering hands. A little biting on your part. After you and Mat hooked up last time, you knew to hold back on the biting. You moved to kiss down Mat’s neck, nipping and sucking as you went.

His fingers tangled into your hair to pull you away, “Careful. No marking, you know that.”

“I know, I know. I wasn’t planning on doing it.”

The following day you awoke to Mat lying shirtless beside you in bed. Little snores were the only sound echoing around the room. Your phone was suddenly receiving notifications, buzzing on the side table.

“What time is it?” You mumble to yourself. Leaning over to look at your phone. The glowing white numbers. 6:00 AM. “Fuck.”

You had forgotten to change the sleep focus for last night. Usually, you’d be up for work at this time hence why your phone turned notifications back on. You flicked it back onto sleep focus and rolled over to curl into Mat’s side.

“What’s the time?” He mumbles, barely even awake.

“6.”

“Go back to sleep,” Mat huffed.

For the next two hours, the pair of your drifted in and out of sleep. Either you would shuffle and wake Mat or vice versa. Then it got to the point you couldn’t be bothered to try to go back to sleep. Instead, you pulled up Instagram to scroll through whilst Mat slept. You knew Mat liked his sleep, and he had a later morning skate at 10 AM if you remember correctly.

“Mat, it’s 8:30,” You mumbled when you noticed the time. Both of you needed to shower before leaving. And Mat had offered to drop you back at your hotel on his way to practice.

The two of you fell into a routine of getting ready for the day. You showered before changing back into the clothes you wore to Mat’s. Mat jumped in the shower after you. He came out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and one of his many Islanders hoodies. Something that made him look so good.

Mat came over to where you were sitting on his bed, slipping on your Apple Watch. He leant down and pressed a kiss to your lips once more. Probably the final one of the morning. “Want some food before I drop you off?”

“That sounds good.”

You grabbed your bag, and the pair of your made your way to Mat’s car. He had mentioned a bakery near your hotel that was good. It didn’t take too long… in city time that is. The two of you entered the cafe. Browsing all there was to choose from. After looking at all the baked goods, you decided to get juice—something to quell your unsettled stomach, hopefully. Mat stood before you, eyeing up something in the glass case.

“What do you want?” Mat asked.

“Oh, I’m just getting a juice. Don’t feel like getting any food at the moment.” Mat plucked the juice bottle from your hands and placed it on the counter with his drink. You groaned, going to try to grab the drink back, but he smacked your hand away. “Mat, I can get my drink.”

“Don’t stress about it. I don’t mind.”

You didn’t expect Mat to pay for your stuff. Honestly, you hated having people pay for things for you. Mat was a good person, and you knew that. So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise. After he paid for your things, you both returned to his car, and he started to make his way to your hotel. It was quiet until you pulled into your hotel driveway.

“Thank you for last night,” You stated as you grabbed your bag. “I need it.”

“Me too,” Mat smiles.

“Good luck for tonight.”

Mat says a quick thank you. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

“Bye.”

You send him one last smile. “Bye.”

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