#rockford icehogs imagine

[kentsjohnson91]

— 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒓

— 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒓

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆: 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓!

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐: 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍!

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆: 𝒐𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 11:11! 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉, 𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒔𝒚!

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓: 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍!

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏!

[prettyboysinmyheart]

✩ Late night talks - Colton Dach ✩

Summary: Hunter meets Colton for the first time

Pairing: Colton Dach x Zegras!Sister

WC: 820

Notes: hope you enjoy it. This is not proofread so be aware of that! Likes, comments and reblogs are not required but greatly appreciated<3

Hunter layed in bed, her body writhing in discomfort. A nauseating feeling had come over her, making her want to cry. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was 1 am. In eight hours, she would have to get up to prepare for her older brother’s NHL draft. Looking over at her brother, who was sleeping peacefully in the bed next to hers, she couldn't help but shed a few tears. She wasn't ready for him to leave. For years, he had been by her side, comforting, protecting, and supporting her. Though her parents and Griffin were there too, she preferred that everyone was together. When Trevor left for Michigan to play for the NTDP, she had cried for months and refused to leave her room. Now, he was going to be in the big leagues, where he would be even busier.

Hunter lifted the sheets off herself and slipped on her slippers. She grabbed her phone and a random sweatshirt, which happened to be Trevor’s USA hockey one. Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep, she slipped her hotel key into her pocket and left the room to head for the elevator. She pressed the button for the lobby and leaned against the railing, crossing her arms. When the elevator door opened, she walked out slowly and explored the lobby. It was empty except for a few workers at the desk and a cute boy who appeared to be around Hunter's age. He was sitting on the couch with a sad expression on his face, dressed in a team Canada sweatshirt with black sweatpants and a backwards hat that made him look absolutely handsome.

Hunter sat down on the opposite side of the couch from him and brought her knees up to her chest. Nervously playing with the ends of her hair, she tried to think of something to say to the boy in front of her. Clearing her throat to get his attention, she finally whispered, "Are you okay?"

The boy wiped his tears with the back of his hand and sat up straight, fixing himself before nodding his head. "Yeah... are you?"

Hunter avoided looking into his soft brown eyes, but he found his way over to sit next to her anyway. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she lied.

The boy could tell she was lying by the way her hands shook and her eyes were red like she'd been crying for a while. "You're lying," he said.

"So are you," she replied.

Both teens laughed and looked around the lobby to see if anyone was around. They were happy to find only one worker who was very focused on the computer in front of them. Hunter let out a sigh. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you're upset about your brother getting drafted tonight." She waited for him to say something. His eyes shifted down to his hands as he picked at the skin on his fingernails. "My brother and I have been playing on the same team, and later tonight, that's all going to change. I'm not ready for him to leave. It's selfish, I know, but he's my best friend. He's the only one who understands me."

Hunter brought herself closer to the boy and gave him a hug. He was tense at first, but he slowly relaxed when he felt her rub his back. They held each other, and finally, she let go to see that he had shed a few tears. The pretty boy felt embarrassed to be crying in front of her, so he hid his face.

"Don't be embarrassed. I understand what you're feeling. Ever since I found out that my brother was going to be drafted, I've had this nervous feeling in my stomach that always makes me nauseous. I hate it. All I want is for it to go away. The feeling always comes back when they talk about it."

He gave Hunter a sweet smile. "Then we won't talk about it anymore, sweetheart."

---

Colton laughed as Hunter let out another yawn. She rubbed her eyes and tried her hardest to stay awake. It was 3:10 am, and they had been sitting here for about two hours, talking about school, sports, and their childhood memories. They had laughed, cried, and hugged each other so much that Hunter missed the feeling of being in his arms. There was something about it that made her feel safe, warm, and relaxed.

"You're tired, sweetheart. Why don't we start heading to our rooms? We've got a long day ahead of us."

Hunter stood up, stretched, and said her goodbyes to the boy next to her. "Wait, I didn't get your name," he said.

"It's Hunter. Yours?" she said, letting out another yawn.

"Colton. Don't forget me, sweetheart," he said, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek before heading toward the elevator.

[puckyou-forpuckssake]

For Old Times Sake—M. Latta

Message me to request an imagine.

Not a request. No warning. Check my blog for master list or search for more in blog with #hockeyimagine

You and Michael had been best friends since diapers. His mom and your mom had been best friends since they were in primary school. You live next door to each other. You were born on the same day. Because of your shared history, you and Michael knew everything about each other and did (almost) everything together. This could lead to trouble.

You had traveled home for a wedding and were staying at your parent’s house in your small hometown. You were laying in bed, listening to old CDs, and scrolling through your phone when there was a bang at your window. You looked up to see Michael leaning out of his bedroom window with marbles in his hand. He was in town for the wedding too.

You opened the window. “Marbles? Are you serious?”

“Rocks and pucks could’ve broke the window,” he explained.

“So could marbles.”

“Technicality, Y/N,” Michael smiled.

“Michael, we have a wedding to attend tomorrow,” you reminded him. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Let’s go on adventure. Just like we used to,” you tried not to look at him because of the classic Latta smile. “We could sneak into the rink like we did when we were 13.”

You rolled your eyes. “Most of your adventures involve hockey, skating, and ice.”

“Well that’s because yours always involved food and animals,” he retorted.

“You never objected to that!”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Are you in or not?”

You thought for a moment. “This is a stupid plan, like most of plans. Yes I’m in. Someone has to make sure you don’t get arrested,” you conceded. Michael watched you disappear back into your room before reappearing with a rope and tying it to a pipe outside your window.

“You still have that?” Michael chuckled. He’d given you the rope the morning of the day you would sneak into the local rink for the first time. It had been used many times for you to enter and exit your home. After scaling down, you waited for Michael to come down. You hoped he wouldn’t come down like he did when you guys were younger, but the idiot did. He jumped out of his window.

“Are you insane?” You hissed. “You could’ve broken a bone.”

Michael shrugged and grabbed your hand. You walked down the streets of your hometown, dodging street lights and sneaking under the windows of those still awake. The rink wasn’t too far from where you lived. When you arrived, Michael tried opening the door but it was locked.

“Why did you think it would be unlocked?” Michael shrugged. “How are we getting in, genius?”

Michael grinned and pulled out a key. “Hopefully they haven’t changed the locks in 13 years.” You discovered they hadn’t.

You and Michael found skates and went out onto the ice. “I miss this,” you sighed.

“Skating? Me? Skating with me?”

“Skating,” you answered.

Michael smiled and grabbed your hands. You skated around gracefully like you did when you were younger. “I feel like we are a part of Cutting Edge.”

Michael smiled. “You always loved that movie.”

“I should’ve known when I heard you were back town,” The two of you of you stopped and saw Officer Williams, the man who always busted you two when you were younger. “You two know the routine.”

You and Michael skated off the ice. “So should I take you to the station and have your parents pick you up there or I call them here.”

You two looked at each other. “Here,” you two said simultaneously, “Here’s fine.”

Thirty minutes later your parents and Michael’s parents showed up at the rink. “I feel 13 years younger,” your mother said walking in. “Do you two know what it’s like to get a call at two in the morning about your daughter and neighbor boy breaking into an ice rink?”

“They’ll know eventually,” Michael's mother smiled. “Still, I don’t understand why you two had to do this tonight of all nights. You two are getting married in 14 hours!”

Michael kissed your cheek. “I had to have fun with my neighbor girl before she became my wife. For old times sake.”

They looked at you. “What’s your explanation?” Your mother asked. “You know the groom shouldn’t spend the night with the bride or see her before the wedding.”

You smiled at Michael and twirled the ring on your finger. Michael put his hand over yours. “For old times sake.”

[tyson-berry-blog]

Brandon Mashinter #1 - Losing Season

Anon asked: Could you do a fluffy imagine with Brandon Mashinter of the Rockford IceHogs where the reader comforts him after the awful season they had? You're very good at writing and I love your blog!

Yes anon I can write this for you! I know next to nothing about the Icehogs so I had to do a bit of research for this one which I found quite interesting. I will soon be living up north so I will be closer to Icehog territory, maybe I will check them out. 

As the spouse of a hockey player you are used to the ups and downs that come with the game. When their team won it was a momentous occasion that left everyone giddy and hopeful. This of course made the losses all the worse. Your husband Brandon was usually a happy-go-lucky guy so when he is reduced near to tears after the final game of the Icehogs season you aren’t sure what to do. It was a home game that ended in a loss in front of friends and family and for Brandon the additional loss of his sanity. They finished at the bottom of the Central Division with twenty-five wins and fifty-one losses. But as a former captain Brandon kept his head high, gave closing remarks to the team and walked with you silently to the car. He tosses the keys over to you not trusting himself to drive in this state. You don’t like him like this but couldn’t really act until you got home.

Your home wasn’t far from the arena but the drive felt like a life time. Usually post-game Brandon would discuss with you plays and funny things the guys said if they won, or how he could improve his skills for the next game if they lost. Because that had been the last game there was no reason for him to discuss what changes he wanted to make to be better. When you park the car and he reaches to unbuckle his seatbelt you reach over and place your hand on his. He stops moving but still avoids your eyes.

“Brandon please look at me.”

Reluctantly he looks up and you see his red rimmed eyes silently beg you not to ask anything.

“There are leftovers in the fridge. Do you want lasagna or grilled chicken?” you ask instead.

His voice is scratchy, “chicken.”

You nod and release his hand so you could go inside. He went straight to get changed and you walk into the kitchen to reheat your dinner from two nights ago. When you are done and Brandon still hasn’t emerged you go into the bedroom to check on him.  He is sitting with his back to the door and his suit still on. You walk around the bed to sit next to him. Similar to the situation in the car you grab his hand but this time you don’t try to get him to talk. You are too focused on the silence that you miss him saying something. He squeezes your hand expectantly and you look at him.

“What was that?”

He sighs, “I just want to thank you for putting up with me.”

This gets you to turn fully towards him, “Brandon what are you talking about?”

“We had an awful season and played like shit and I’m sorry you have to deal with being married to someone who can barely succeed in their career.”

“Are you serious right now?” you can’t believe what you are hearing.

“I was just-” you cut him off.

“Do not apologize for something as dumb as me being with you.”

“You could do so much better,” he answers meekly.

“No I don’t think I could have and as my husband who I have been with for ten years I thought you would know me better by now.”

“I do know you.”

“Look Brandon,” you grab both of his hands, “I love you so much that I don’t know how to handle it sometimes. This season was not your fault by any means. You play for the Icehogs. Do you know what the Icehogs are?”

He is confused, “of course I know what they are. They are my team.”

“Exactly! Your team. That means that this was a team effort. You are not the only person who plays for them so this could not be your fault.”

He doesn’t know how to respond and his face remains expressionless so you aren’t sure what he is thinking. His eyes though are no longer red which you take as a win.

“C’mon,” you stand up, “go change and come eat dinner. I think I’ll need to heat it up again.”

“I’m not really hungry.”

“Brandon you need to eat something.”

He pulls you towards him so you stand between his legs, “can we just go to bed?”

You push his hair back away from his face, “yeah we can go to bed. Let me put the food away first and you need to get out of this suit.”

He nods and begins unbuttoning his shirt and you leave to put the food back in the fridge. At the last second you grab a protein bar from the pantry and plan to make him eat it. The last food he ate was hours before the game. This time when you enter the room he is dressed in his pajamas and pulling back the bed spread. You toss the protein bar at him which he catches easily and rolls his eyes. You change your own clothes while he eats it and then crawl under the covers next to him. You are on your respective side when you feel an arm reach out and wrap around your waist. Next thing you know you are held flush against your husband’s side and you tuck your head under his chin.

You are seconds away from drifting off when you hear a quiet, “thank you.”

“What was that?” you ask not moving your head.

“I said thank you.”

“Brandon we just had this talk.”

“No now I’m thanking you for being there for me.”

“We’re married. It was kind of in our vows to be there for each other.”

“Yeah well,” he huffs out a bit of a laugh, “thank you and I love you.”

You burrow your face into his chest, “I love you too.”

[iwrite-imagines]

Michael Latta Imagine

Micahel Latta: Rockford Icehogs (AHL)

(PART TWO)

PART ONE // PART THREE

Requested by anonymous (x5): “Um def need a part two to the Latta imagine!! Your writing is amazing!! ❤“ “I swear if I don’t get a part 2 of that latta one I’m going to start crying myself”

Warnings: Language

Music :HERE

Word Counter: 1,499

Another three days had gone by since the skipped dinner incident. You slept on the couch that night. If Michael noticed, he didn’t say anything. You felt as though you were in constant survival mode. Living your life as a secondary character to the silent boy who had never acted like this before. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Beginning that cold and dreary morning, you pull a suitcase out of your closet. You fill it with all of the essentials and a few extras you can’t bear to part with. Michael is at practice, which left the house empty. Perfect for you to make your getaway. You didn't know where you were going to go. Maybe home to your mom's. Maybe you fly out to your dad's. You didn't know and while something like that would usually stress you out, you weren't stressed out this time. It wasn't bothering you. You were at peace. 

 You quickly finish packing. You drag your things out to your car and throw them into the trunk. You hear the car pull up as you opened your driver's side door. 'Shit', you swore in your head. He turns the car off and you don't turn around to look at him. You grip the handle of your door, trying to keep the tears in. 

 "Hi." He says quietly over your shoulder. You jump when he reaches out to you. He pulls back, slightly startled. You had never jumped at his touch. Usually you would lean into it. 

 "Where are you going?" He ask, emotion making his voice thick. 

 "I'm going away." You choke out. 

 "Why?" He whispers.

 "I have to. Don't pretend you care now." The spite drips off your tongue. Michael draws a sharp breath between his teeth. 

 "Why...why would you say that?" You don't answer him. You just climb into the car and slam the door shut. He steps back against his car and watches silently as you throw the car in reverse. Tears pour down your face and Michael can see them from his place on the driveway. His heart aches in his chest for you. You speed off down the road away from your whole life. Michael means everything to you. And here you were, leaving it all behind.

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

Michael’s Point of View

It had been four days since Y/N drove away from me. She drove away from everything. Everything we had done together, all that we had built up over the last three years. Sitting on the couch, I fiddle with my phone. I dial her number and hesitate before locking my phone and throwing it on the couch next to me. 

If she wanted to talk to me, she would be the one to call, wouldn’t she?

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

Your Point of View

Knock knock. Your mom pokes her head into the guest room, where you are stretched out on the bed, typing an email for work. 

“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?” She steps into the room and you set your laptop to the side. You sigh, raking a hand through your snarled hair. 

“Okay, I guess.” She gives you a closed-lip smile and perches on the end of the bed, facing you. 

“Do you think you feel well enough to go to Tom’s party?” You throw your head back, groaning. You had completely forgotten about it. You had told Tom that you would be there, because of course you would be there. Michael and Tom were best friends. 

“Moooooooooooooom...” You groan. He was going to be there. Why wouldn’t he be? Him and Tom were best friends.

“Y/N. They are your friends, too. You can’t hide in this bedroom forever. And you and Michael haven’t even talked about anything that’s happened. You never know. Maybe he’s come to his senses.” You roll your eyes and sigh, yet again. You run a hand through your hair once more.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll go. Only for a little while. But I’ll go.” Your mom grins and pats your leg. 

“This will be good. I can feel it.” She gets up and leaves you to finish your email before getting ready.

After showering, you apply natural makeup and leave your hair to air-dry. You put on your favorite back pants and pair it with a pink strappy top. (see here) You fiddle with the M necklace that rests in the valley of your breasts. You hadn’t once taken it off since Michael bought it for you for your one year anniversary. Lost in thought, your mom yells at you from the other room.

“Y/N! You’re going to be late!” You swear under your breath and grab your bag, running to the front door. The necklace being the furthest thing in your mind, despite it remaining around your neck.

You speed off towards Tom’s party, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white. You park next to a silver Lexus and climb out of your car, breathing a sigh of relief when you don’t see Michael’s car. You fix your hair and plaster a smile on your face, walking towards Tom’s front door. 

Just as you raise your hand to knock, the door swings open and you’re engulfed in a large, muscular hug. You giggle as Tom strokes your hair.

“Y/N..” He breathes. “I’m so glad you came. Mike told me what happened, and I was so scared you weren’t going to come.” You nervously laugh and fidget with your hair.

“Yeah... would you hate me if I told you my mom made me come?” He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. 

“Come get a drink. Mostly everyone is in the backyard.” He drags you into the kitchen and gets you something fruity and strongly alcoholic to drink. You take a sip and cough slightly, caught off guard.

“What are you trying to do here, Wilson? I’m going to have to drive home!” You both laugh and you take another sip of the drink. 

“Let’s go outside.” He leads you outside and there’s loud music and people milling about. Most of them you recognize from Tom’s team and a few from Michael’s team. But there were a few people you didn’t know. You figured they were Tom’s friends from outside the hockey world.

You wander over to the fire pit and take a seat, watching the people. Someone materializes by your side and takes the seat next to you. You turn and see a blonde-haired boy with bright green eyes. 

“Hi.” He says, flashing you a dazzling smile. You smile slightly and mess with a fray on your jeans.

“Hello.” He sticks his hand out.

“I’m Brandon.” You shake his hand lightly.

“Y/N.” He grins again and his hand lingers just a little too long on yours. It makes you feel uncomfortable and you shift in your seat trying to create space. 

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You let out a nervous laugh and bring your drink to your lips, chugging the rest of it. 

“Oh gee. Looks like I need another drink.” You jump up and stumble away from the fire pit, cursing Tom for putting so much alcohol in your drink and yourself for not eating anything before you came.

“I’ll go with you!” Brandon appears by your side, placing an arm on your waist. You lean away from him, trying to get out of his grip. 

Michael’s Point of View

Stepping outside off the deck, I survey the backyard. I knew who I was looking for, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I sip the beer in my hand and then I see her, sitting by the fire pit. Some meathead is holding her hand, as if they just finished shaking hands. My blood boils under my skin and my grip tightens on the bottle in my hand. I watch as Y/N pulls away her hand rather abruptly, as if she didn’t want him to touch her. 

He tries initiate conversation and she keeps looking around, almost as if she’s looking for an escape. I take a few steps closer, making it seem as if I’m just aimlessly wandering. Y/N throws back the rest of her drink and I let out a breathy chuckle. She always did like to drink and she definitely knew how to handle her liquor. My chest tightens at the thought of old memories. I watch as she gets up, tripping over the leg of the chair. She all but runs from the blonde guy, who chases after her. 

I can feel the anger rising in my body as his arm snakes around my girlfriend’s waist. Y/N and I may be having a rough time right now, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t care about her. 

Y/N struggles in his hold and he won’t let go of her. He begins to lean into her, his lips outstretched as if he’s going to kiss her. I can’t help myself anymore.

“HEY!” I yell, stalking towards them.  

PART THREE

[matsbarzal]

UFC - Michael Latta

Notes: Such an original title, eh? I’m so creative wow. Regardless, here’s a cute lil Michael Latta imagine! Hope you all enjoy.

Mentions: Tom Wilson

Warnings: Like mentions of fighting but not between the couple

Requested: Yes | No

Up Next: Artemi Panarin OR Kasperi Kapanen

Teaser: “Honestly, kids, there’s so many people watching, and I really don’t think (Y/N) plans on switching from a UFC fighter to a porn star.”

Growing up, it wasn’t uncommon to see you picking fights left and right. You were always the scrappy one in your group of friends, usually influenced by your best friend Tom, who would constantly go out of his way to encourage you to pick fights with random girls to see who would win. Unsurprisingly, it was always you.

Everyone thought you would get over your stint of getting your aggression out through fights after you were signed up for kick boxing classes. They were wrong.

You spent most of your teenage life traveling throughout North America for competitions to further improve yourself, and your confidence. But it wasn’t until your late-teens when you finally got your peak and got the offer to be a UFC fighter. You barely hesitated before taking it.

Which is currently what had you in Vegas, the annual pre-match interviews serving as a reminder of how much you truly hated the media.

“(Y/N), how does it feel to be a female fighter in a sport so commonly dominated by men?”

Looking around until you spotted the person talking, you internally rolled your eyes when you finally saw him.

“Personally, I wouldn’t say it’s a sport dominated by men. Women like Ronda Rousey and Holly Holm have both proven time and time again that it’s most definitely /not/ a male dominated sport. Thanks.”

The reporters all recoiled at your aggressive tone, most of them rethinking their next few questions while a few more piped up.

“Are you excited for the NHL expansion team coming to Vegas? Both your boyfriend and best friend are professional hockey players, correct?”

Smiling slightly, you nodded your head, “Yeah, I’m definitely excited. I’ve been a huge fan of the sport since I was little, and there’s always a chance Tom or Michael could get picked up by the Knights so I’m definitely excited.”

The questions continued on, many asking if you were nervous for the fight tonight, wondering what you would do if you lost, all questions that had you physically holding yourself back from going crazy.

Your best friend, a fourth-line forward for the Washington Capitals, Tom Wilson, was the last person you were expecting to receive a snap from with the little ‘Vegas’ geotag.

Quickly picking up your phone and dialing his number, he took a few seconds to accept the call - huffing into it like he was actually annoyed or something.

“Why are you in Vegas in the middle of the playoffs?”

“Well, my dear best friend and future mother of my god-children, I decided to come watch you fight for once.”

You couldn’t deny that you were suspicious, even though Tom claimed he loved watching you fight, he also always told you how worried he was whenever there was a possible chance of you getting 'knocked the fuck out’ as he oh so kindly would put it.

“Why?”

“I have a bet going on with Ovi, Osh and a few others. They all think the chick tonight’s gonna beat you, but I know my best friend.”

Taking his word for it, your conversation ended abruptly when he claimed his phone was on the verge of dying and he wasn’t near the hotel yet, which had your suspicious side grow even hotter in confusion as you hung up the phone.

It wasn’t an easy match, per se. It was evenly matched, definitely. But getting the upper hand quickly was something you had learned growing up, which just so happened to work time and time again, especially in important matches like these.

Beating the other girl in three rounds, the two of you shook hands as you were announced the winner of the match, your team huddling all around to congratulate you, offer you water and bandages for the small cut you had received to the corner of your cheek.

Waving them off as you walked back to the dressing room, stopping to sign a few things and take pictures with a few fans on the way.

Your trainer gave you your phone, which you eagerly dove into and began looking through all the messages, you noticed one in particular from your boyfriend, Michael Latta.

'Damn, there’s nothing I love more than watching you fight in person😍’

You were one hundred percent confused. Michael always told you if he planned on coming to a match so that you could get him easy tickets, but this turn of events didn’t surprise you with how Tom had been acting earlier.

Pressing the call button on his contact, he picked up the phone almost immediately and began shouting into the speaker.

“JESUS! Whatta fight babe! I told Ovi you were gonna beat the shit outta that girl, but no, no one ever believes me.”

Giggling into the receiver as he continued, he finally took a breather which allowed you to get a few words in.

“Where are you?”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m kind of near your dressing room? Surprise!”

Pulling open the dressing room door, you looked left, then right, and made direct eye contact with two, very bulk looking guys dressed in basic fuck boy clothes as you so lovingly called it, waving at you enthusiastically.

Quickly ending the call and walking towards them, Mike swept you up in his arms and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Shit babe, you did so good!”

“Aw Mikey, I can’t believe you’re here!” You cooed, pressing your lips against his as he kissed you back, pulling you closer to him as the kiss deepened.

“Honestly, kids, there’s so many people watching, and I really don’t think (Y/N) plans on switching from a UFC fighter to a porn star.”

The two of you pulled away with a laugh at Tom’s words, the Capitals forward eyeing you two with a look of disgust.

“You, wait out here.” You instructed, pointing to the current spot your best friend was in as you tugged Michael back into the now empty dressing room.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You exclaimed, jumping on him for the second time that night as he easily caught your frame.

The long distance of your relationship was difficult, especially after Michael had signed with another team and then been traded, leaving both you and Washington behind.

“Can’t go too long without seeing my girl.” The brunette grinned, kissing your nose with a smile.

“I’ve missed you.” Wrapping your arms around his back as you murmured the words in his ear.

“I’ve missed you too, baby. I almost forgot how much it turns me on to watch you beat another girl up.”

He smirked at you, a look of want evident in his eyes.

“Not here, Latta.”

[kikiskeysgame]

Tonight’s game was quite a turnaround from Friday night’s game and the Blackhawks were able to pick up their second victory of the season as they defeated the Nashville Predators in overtime. 

The 1st period was solid, but quiet between both teams. In the 2nd period, Brandon Hagel broke the scoreless drought (with assists by Seth Jones and Jonathan Toews) to give the Blackhawks a 1-0 lead; however, Alexandre Carrier tied up the game not long after.

The game remained tied throughout the 3rd period and went into overtime where Alex DeBrincat scored the game-winning goal with assists by Patrick Kane and Kevin Lankinen.

The Blackhawks definitely put in a much better effort tonight and the win was just what they needed to get themselves moving in the right direction again. It was also a very physical game between both teams with the Hawks getting 40 hits and the Predators getting 31 hits.

Yesterday, Jeremy Colliton was fired as the head coach and replaced with Derek King from the Rockford IceHogs as the interim head coach. I know it was only been his first game behind the bench, but I’m starting to get a good vibe on him and it seems like he’s connecting pretty well with the players. (Even Alex DeBrincat gave him the puck after he scored the game-winning goal). 

It’ll probably take a while for the Hawks to adjust to Coach King’s coaching style, but it’s looking so far so good for now.

Kevin Lankinen and Juuse Saros each had strong games in the net. Saros looked especially well on the Blackhawks’ power play. With the way that he has been playing lately, something tells me that Saros will probably have a good season with the Predators, so he is one of the players that the Hawks need to be aware of the two times they face each other this season.

After letting in a soft goal from the Predators in the 2nd period, Lankinen played very well for the rest of the night and even got an assist on DeBrincat’s game-winning goal. I can only imagine that getting a win tonight was definitely a boost to his confidence.

I thought that the second line of Brandon Hagel, Jonathan Toews and Dominik Kubalik looked pretty good tonight. 

According to the NBC Sports Chicago website, when the three of them were on the ice together at even strength, they lead in shot attempts, shots on goal, scoring chances and high danger chances. Hagel was able to score his fourth goal of the season, Toews got an assist and even though Kubalik didn’t have any points tonight, he had plenty of good scoring chances throughout the game.

After tonight’s game, the Blackhawks will play against the Pittsburgh Penguins on Tuesday night. I hope that the Hawks will continue to keep up the good work and continue to stay consistent throughout the remainder of their three-game homestead.

Until then, go Blackhawks!

[running-on-fanfiction]

Michael Latta - Like Mark and Juliet.

Hi! Can y'all do a cute Michael Latta imagine where you tell him that youre starting to like him and he never replies so you think you scared him away but it was the complete opposite, he likes you too and was just nervous to tell you to be his girl? Thanks!!

Author’s Note: I love Michael Latta. That’s all. -Julianne 

You had just got done brushing your teeth when your phone buzzed. Turning off your bathroom light you walk over to your bed and pick up your phone to see that you had a text from your friend Mandy. 

Did you tell him yet?

No.

TELL HIM! NOW! I mean it! Don’t be a baby. Love you.

Throwing your head back on to the bed, you pulled your arms in front of you and pressed Michael’s name.   

Hey! What’s up?

Hey babygirl! Not to much just playing COD with Willy. What’s up with you? 

Sounds fun! Who’s winning? Am just laying in bed. :D 

Such a bum ;) I’m winning....as always.

Okay it’s now or never you thought. 

So I kind of have something to tell you. 

Good or bad? 0_0 

Depends I guess lol 

That’s worrisome ahaha. Well what is it babygirl?

You took a deep breath before typing. 

I like you.....but not as a friend. Like as a boyfriend.  

Sent. Yet you still had this awful pit in you stomach. You placed your phone screen face done on your bedding and turned on the tv hoping that the sound would help the feeling in your stomach. 

Michael’s P.O.V.

“Dude why did you just stop play!” Tom yelled as he killed me on the game. “Whoa, are you okay there Lats?” He asked placing the game on pause. 

I still had my phone in my hands. “I like you....but not as a friend.” This is what I have been waiting for, yet I couldn’t type back. I didn’t want to be that guy that said I like you too and then just goes back to playing video games. This was a wonderful moment. 

“Y/N just told me she likes me, as more than just a friend.” I told Tom a smile slowly forming on my face. 

Tom hits my arm and smiles “Told you she did! What did you say?” 

“Nothing.” 

“What?” Tom says looking like I was a loon. “The girl you like just tell you she likes you back and you say nothing back. Lats not sure but you might have taken to many hits to the head my friend.   

“I want to ask her to be my girlfriend but not over text.” I said standing up to grab some paper and a marker. 

Your P.O.V

Twenty minutes. It has been twenty minutes since you told Michael you like him and you got nothing back. Shit. Did you mess up. You were really wishing you never listened to Mandy right now. Just then you heard you door bell ring. 

“Who on earth would that be at 12 am.” You said to yourself. 

Looking through the peephole you saw Michael. Shocked you opened the door fast only to see Michael hold his finger up to his mouth. You nodded. He began to hold up a paper in front on him. 

“Remember that time you stay over at my place and we watched Love Actually?” The first sigh said. 

Looking up at Michael you shook you head yes and he switched to the next sign.

“And after the movie we stayed up all night talking about everything and anything?” 

You shoot you head yes again and smiled remembering it all so well even thought it was over three years ago. 

“You ended up falling asleep on my chest at 4 am that night. You felt bad.” Michael smiled at you as he flipped to the next page. 

“You felt bad, kept saying sorry. But what you didn’t know was that night was the night....” 

Next sigh.

“That I fell in love with you. Wait. There’s more.” 

Now there were tears in your eyes and you were sure that Michael was not leaving this house tonight, 

“Will you be my girlfriend? Kiss for yes. No kiss for no.”

You placed a deep kiss on Michael lips. You felt him wrap his arms around you small body as he carried you two inside and closed the front door. Oh man was the going to be a good night. 

-Julianne 

[carey-pricemas]

Fighting with Mopey- Michael Latta

Hey ya’ll! So here’s one for Latts! I love all three of the brobeans! 3-for-1 ketchup! Need I say more? I really wanted to work the ketchup into this one, but it didn’t work, so just imagine the ketchup is sitting in the fridge XD Anyway so this one is kinda angsty, but gets cute at the end! Hope you guys like it!

Warning: arguing, cussing

Anon Request: Hey can you do a Michael Latta imagine where you two get into a fight and you leave but he comes after you? Thanks!

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

              Rockford, Illinois was not where you expected to be a year ago.

              Then again you loved Mikey and would follow him anywhere.

              Like say LA. Then Rockford.

              It's been a long year filled with a mopey boyfriend. First he got traded to the LA Kings, then sent down to the Ontario Reign, where he moped about not getting enough playing time or chances, then he got traded to the Chicago Blackhawks, where he moped about getting sent down immediately to the IceHogs. At least there he was getting the attention, and chances, he deserved.

              But he still moped about everything. This time you finally confronted him about it after a particularly good game.

              "Hey Mikey" you greeted him enthusiastically after he walked through the door. "Great game!"

              "Yeah" he said. He took off his suit jacket and yanked on his tie.

              "What's the matter babe? Shouldn't you be happy that you won?" you asked walking over to him and rubbing his shoulders. He shrugged off your touch and you dropped your hand, hurt at the gesture. "Hey talk to me" you said gently.

              "God don't you ever leave it alone?" he snapped. "You're always on my case!"

              "Well maybe I wouldn't be if you talked to me" you snapped back. "All you do anymore is bitch and complain while I'm trying to make the most of the situation!"

              "Well then maybe you should leave!" You stared at Mike in shock.

              "Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave." You stomped past Mike and grabbed your coat and purse, throwing on your flip-flops and slamming out the front door, tears blurring your vision. You understood he was stressed. You understood he was disappointed. But it had been over a month since you guys had had sex. Over a week since he told you he loved you.

              Maybe you shouldn't have left everything you knew behind for a guy.

              You walked aimlessly around the city before you wound up at the bus station with a ticket back to Virginia in hand. The bus didn't leave for another hour. You had plenty of time. Time to cry, time to rethink your decision, time to think about what you wanted to do with your life now, since apparently Mikey didn't want you anymore.

              "Fuck you, Mikey" you whispered, wiping the tears from your cheeks. You grabbed your phone and noticed there were no missed calls or text messages.

              Looks like he was serious.

              "(Y/N)" was whispered from behind you. You turned and looked, your heart stopping and your mouth dropping open in shock.

              "Mikey" you whispered. He moved to sit next to you. He took the ticket from your hand and looked at it. "If I'm not wanted here, then I'm going to my parents'." He nodded. He set the ticket down between you and grabbed your hand in his own.

              "I want you here" he said. You looked at him. "But you deserve so much better than a wannabe hockey player with an attitude."

              "Don't tell me what I deserve. What I want is you, but not if you're going to keep moping around." Mike was silent. "I moved clear across the country for you, Michael Latta. I don't know anyone in LA or Rockford besides you. You have your teams at least. I don't."

              "I'm being an asshole."

              "If you're waiting for me to disagree, you'll be waiting awhile." Mike chuckled.

              "No, I'm not expecting anything. As soon as I told you to leave tonight, I knew I had finally fucked up for good. I've been distant and you were right, I've been bitching since we left DC. I was trying to remember the last romantic thing I did for you."

              "A month ago we went out for a celebration dinner" you said softly.

              "Yeah, but even then I was probably bitching about something." You were quiet and looked at your joined hands. He had been. He was bitching about some stupid penalty he got called for. "I love you, (Y/N). And I appreciate you dropping everything and moving with me. Twice." You smiled at him. "But I also understand if you want to go back to your family."

              "Mikey I need you to be supportive and to talk to me. And not just bitching." You squeezed his hand. "I know when we met, I knew zero about hockey, but I'm not like that anymore. You know I want to be there for you, but you have to let me." Mike nodded.

              "I can't promise anything, (Y/N). Being in the minors sucks."

              "Babe, you're not the only one. Lots of guys don't make it to the NHL, Mikey, but you have. And just think, when you get there again, it'll be with a good team."

              "But it's not the Caps."

              "No, it's not, but not everyone stays with the Caps, Mikey. Chimmer got traded too. Laich? Green?" Mike nodded.

              "I know."

              "You'll be fine, Mikey." Mike stood and started to walk away. You stood and turned to him. "What? You're not gonna give me a ride home?" Mike stopped and turned to you.

              "You said..." Mike rushed back to you and picked you up, spinning you around. You laughed and wrapped your arms and legs around him.

              "You'll be fine, Mikey. AND" you emphasized the word, "we'll be ok. We'll get through it."

              "I love you, (Y/N)."

              "I love you too, Mikey."

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

Ok see? It worked out all right! I hope ya’ll enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought! Up next: Angsty JVR, Andre x2, Tyler Seguin, Sidney Crosby, Matt Tkachuk, Derick Brassard, and Sam Reinhardt!

[artemi-okay-player-panarin]

I'm a new canes fan (mostly because my fave got traded to them lmao) anything I should know?

Hey there!!

So a lot of people like to make fun of the Canes because theyhaven’t really been a contender in over 10 years, but Carolina has such apromising future!! They have a good young team, lots of footspeed, and a strongdefensive core. They just needed to shore up their goal tending, which they didby signing Scotty Darling a few weeks ago (!!), so I think they’ll be a dangerous team nextseason!

Other things to know:

(1) Carolina has won the Cup one time in the franchise’s history.They won Game 7 against the Edmonton Oilers in 2006. Andrew Ladd was amember of that team, and thus began the comically strong history of tradingbetween Carolina and Chicago, which has led certain people (me) to affectionatelylabel the Canes: “Blackhawks Southeast.” Like for reals. Just off the top of myhead there’s Joakim Nordstrom, Kris Versteeg, Teuvo Teravainen, ViktorStalberg, Bryan Bickell and now Scotty Darling! Even Bill Peters used to be thehead coach of the Rockford Icehogs! It’s sort of ridiculous, but I love it. 

(2) Jeff Skinner is an actual angel. He won the Calder Trophy for rookie of the year in 2011, but more importantly, he is one of thecutest, smiliest, most adorable puppies you could ever imagine. 

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B: 

He is incredibly nice and sweet and would rather refuse to answer an interview question than say something mean about one of his teammates. 

Exhibit C: What would you get Viktor Stalberg for Christmas? A Hat.

He getsembarrassed easily. His face can seriously go from zero to tomato in 0.2seconds. 

Exhibit D:

He has a tendency to horde pucks during warmups. (MY PRECIOUSSSSS)

Exhibits E and F:

And ohyeah. He’s an ex-figure skater.

Exhibits G and H:

(3) There are probably lots of other things about the team that I should mention, but I went on such a tangent about Skinny that I think it’s probably safer if I just stop now lest this post becomes even longer. ;)

Hope this helps! And welcome to the Redvolution! 

[kentsjohnson91]

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆: 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓!

unknown hey text door neighbor ◡̈ — read 2:03 am.

text door neighbor! text door neighbor?? — read 2:04 am.

unknown yep! i'm your text door neighbor - the last digit of your phone number is one below mine — read 2:05 am.

unknown anyway — read 2:05 am.

unknown i'm a little drunk — read 2:05 am.

unknown but i think kevin korchinski has got to be one of the finest men in existence! — read 2:06 am.

text door neighbor! i don't think you're thinking straight, text door neighbor. have a nice night! — read 2:12 am.

unknown NOOOO WHERE R U GOING TEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR — read 2:13 am.

unknown I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS — read 2:13 am.

text door neighbor! okay so first off i literally have no idea who you are — read 2:13 am.

text door neighbor! secondly you texted me ten minutes ago... how are we supposed to become friends in ten minutes?? — read 2:13 am.

text door neighbor! third you could be a serial killer for all i know — read 2:13 am.

text door neighbor! and lastly kevin korchinski is not all that — read 2:13 am.

unknown first off i'm literally just a girl who is a LITTLE too drunk and shouldn't trust twitter ideas when it comes to making friends but here we are! — read 2:15 am.

text door neighbor! god i fucking hate twitter — read 2:16 am.

unknown HEY DO NOT SHIT ON TWITTER — read 2:16 am.

unknown secondly it's actually been thirteen minutes don't get it twisted 🙄 — read 2:16 am.

unknown thirdly i am NOT a serial killer. YOU could be a serial killer for all i know — read 2:16 am.

text door neighbor! so then why did you text me, number neighbor? — read 2:17 am.

unknown cuz i'm drunk and i thought it'd be fun... haven't we been over this?? AND LASTLY DO NOT SHIT ON KEVIN KORCHINSKI THAT MAN IS BEAUTIFUL — read 2:17 am.

text door neighbor! okay wait pause — read 2:17 am.

text door neighbor! forget about korchinski for a second — read 2:17 am.

text door neighbor! the thought of me potentially being a serial killer crossed your mind when you thought about this and you STILL decided to go through with texting me? — read 2:17 am.

unknown … well are you a serial killer? — read 2:17 am.

text door neighbor! no — read 2:18 am.

unknown well then i don’t see a problem — read 2:18 am.

text door neighbor! i DO why are you trusting me on this if you have never met me i mean i can assure you that i’m not a serial killer but you could’ve easily texted one instead — read 2:20 am.

unknown so now i’m thinking that you might be a serial killer after all — read 2:20 am.

text door neighbor/possible serial killer? and why is that? — read 2:20 am.

unknown “i mean i can assure you that i’m not a serial killer” mmm sure that’s what a serial killer would say! — read 2:21 am.

text door neighbor/possible serial killer? i am not a serial killer. — read 2:21 am.

unknown sure, and i’m not in love with kevin korchinski. — read 2:21 am.

text door neighbor/possible serial killer?ENOUGH ABOUT KORCHINSKI who introduced you to the concept of him because i wanna kill them right about now — read 2:21 am.

unknown so you’re not making a very good case about not being a serial killer rn like okay mr. fbi’s most wanted! — read 2:21 am.

unknown but if you have to know — read 2:21 am.

unknown it was twitter 😋 — read 2:21 am.

text door neighbor/possible serial killer? i fucking hate twitter. — read 2:22 am.

[kentsjohnson91]

if you wanna be included in the taglist for text door neighbor please reply to this post!

[kentsjohnson91]

would you all be interested in a potential taglist for text door neighbor?

[iwrite-imagines]

Michael Latta Imagine

Michael Latta: Rockford Icehogs (AHL)

Requested by anonymous: “Can you do a michael latta imagine? I have no ideas sorry!!! Thanks!” 

Music: HERE

Warnings: none

Word Count: 727

(PART ONE)

PART TWO  // PART THREE

The loud buzzing of the oven shocks you back into reality. You realize that you had been standing by the table, holding a set of silverware for who knows how long, staring off into space. You set the utensils down by the plate nearest to you and walk back into your newly redesigned kitchen. Pulling the lasagna out the oven, you set it on the stove to cool. By the time your boyfriend of three years, Michael, got home, dinner would be done perfectly.

You fill a couple of cups with ice water and place them on the table. Checking the time, you quickly finish setting out the food and you wander into the living room to wait for Michael to come home. The normal time he got home passed. Then another hour. And another one.

You cover the lasagna and put it into the fridge, not even bothering to eat any. Your appetite has passed when the time Michael was supposed to get home had also come and gone.

You begin to clean up the dinner table, angrily grumbling to yourself. You check your phone for any missed calls or texts, but there were none from him, only your best friend. Ten o’clock rolls around and you wonder if Michael is even going to come home at all.

By ten-thirty, you had changed into more comfortable clothes and had thought of every possible excuse your boyfriend could give you. You hear the front door open shortly after eleven pm.

Michael wanders into the kitchen, grabbing a sports drink from the fridge. He leans against the kitchen counter, methodically drinking the blue liquid. You walk into the kitchen, trying to steady your breathing.

“Hey.” You start the conversation. Michael glances at you and replaces the lid on his drink, setting it down next to him.

“Oh. Hi.” Your blood boils and you can feel your heart rate increasing with every passing second.

“It’s late. You’re late.” You try to keep the accusatory tone out of your voice, but there’s still an edge that doesn’t go unnoticed by the tall male standing across from you.

“I know.” That’s it. You wait for him to say anything else, raising an eyebrow at him. He doesn’t. He picks up his drink and crosses the room to you. He places a “barely there” kiss on your cheek.

“I’m beat. I’m going to bed.” He walks away before you can say anything. You feel your anger leave your body as he leaves the room. You slide down your dark wooden cabinets and rest your head back against them as you sit on the ground. You sigh, feeling defeated.

Lately, Michael had been very distant and not affectionate. You had to be the one to initiate conversation or anything romantic. He looked at you like a space filler. It was starting to take a toll on your heart. You couldn’t keep being the only one who put the effort in. That’s not how relationships worked. You both had to put in the time and effort to make them work. You had began to feel as though Michael didn’t care anymore. Like he didn’t love you anymore.

You look around the kitchen the two of you had picked out. Together. It had only been finished about two months ago. The process was long and it definitely brought the two of you together as a couple. You both felt like your relationship was stronger after having to renovate something together.

You couldn’t figure out where that feeling had gone. Had it been thrown out with the last floor tiles of your old kitchen? Had it left with Michael when he went away on a road trip the day after the new room was finished? Your chest feels heavy as you think about the three years the two of you had spent together and how it all seemed to be going to waste now. Tears began to leak down your face.

You had been keeping them in for so long. You hadn’t cried at all about anything happening between you and Michael yet. Maybe you had been holding out hope that you were just delusional and things were normal and fine. But now, you realize that you can’t live in a fantasy world forever. Things had changed and you didn’t know what to do about it.

PART TWO // PART THREE

[iwrite-imagines]

Michael Latta Imagine

(PART THREE)

PART ONE  //  PART TWO

Michael Latta: Rockford Icehogs (AHL)

Warnings: none

Music:  HERE

Word Count: 1,340

Requested

His voice vibrates through your entire body. You can’t seem to figure out why you were surprised to hear it. You knew he would be here. And yet, you were still shocked. He stomps up to you and Brandon, the random meathead whose arm was currently frozen around your waist. You use his shock to your advantage and slip out of his grasp. 

Michael stops directly in front of the two of you; his eyes wild, jaw flexing. He’s very angry; anyone with a brain could see that. He glances at you and his eyes soften ever so slightly, but his expression hardens when Brandon speaks up.

“What do you want?” He drunkenly slurs out. You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You don’t know what to do. You look everywhere, looking for Tom, looking for an escape, looking anywhere but here. 

“You need to leave. Now.” Michael clenched his fist and then released it, trying to calm down. He knew that you hated seeing him so mad and that it often frightened you. That was the last thing he needed right now. He was trying to win you back, not scare you off. 

“Man, this pretty girl and I are just getting a drink. Go find your own girl.” Brandon responds, trying to pull you back closer to him. You avoid his hand and instinctively step closer to Michael, who pulls you behind him. 

“I did. Now you can go.” Michael stands his ground and Brandon gets the idea, rolling his eyes and stumbling away. You make a mental note to tell Tom about this incident. Michael turns around to face you, taking a small step back to give you your space. 

His cologne fills your nose and numbs your senses. A rush of memories floods your mind and you want more than anything to just collapse into Michael’s arms. But you stop yourself. The thoughts of him ignoring you and not caring are too strong. 

He studies your face, biting his lip as if he has something to say. A lump grows in your throat and you can feel the tears burning your nose and eyes. 

“Y/N, I....” You hold up your hand to stop him. 

“I can't do it, Michael. I just can’t. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about me and doesn’t notice what I do for them. I need someone who is going to love me continually and not just when it’s convenient for them.” You blurt it all out, tears starting to leak down your face. 

Michael studies your face and reaches a hand out towards you, but you step back, wiping your nose. 

“I have to go.” You turn and jog back towards the house. You walk through the kitchen and dining room, trying to make your tears less obvious, not wanting people to stare. Your hand is on the handle of the front door when someone catches your shoulder.

“Y/N.” It’s Tom. His eyes are wide and worried.

“I have to go. It was a lovely party, Tom.” Tears fall more violently now. You rip the door open and sprint outside to your car. Climbing into the safety of your vehicle, you sink into the seat, tears overwhelming you. 

Your heart pounds in your ears. Your hands shake and you can’t help but feel like you’re going to throw up everything in your stomach. He had wanted to talk and you ran. 

What a bad habit to get into. Running from the people who cared about you most. You had done it with your dad when he moved away, despite him wanting to keep a close relationship. You had done it with your two previous boyfriends before Michael and now you were doing it to him; something you had always promised him you wouldn’t do. 

You couldn’t help it. You were losing him. As much as you wanted to keep him, you were doing the complete opposite of what it took to keep your best friend, lover, the most important piece of your world. 

Wiping your face, you found yourself grateful for waterproof makeup. Otherwise, you would have for sure looked like a hot mess. Glancing up, you saw Michael leaving Tom’s house, frantically searching for something. You. 

You gasped, throwing the car in reverse and speeding off.

“Y/N!” You hear a muffled shout from the lips of your boyfriend. You don’t slow down and you speed off towards your home. You need to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but where Michael is. The feeling makes you gag. You never thought that you would ever feel like that. He was so different. He was so caring. He was so understanding. He was everything you wanted, needed, and more. The keyword there being was. 

You don’t know what happened or what changed, but he was distant. Cold. Uncaring. He had started to become everything you didn't want. Everything you wanted to get away from. Maybe some other day you could face him and the two of you could talk it out, but today was not that day. You needed more time. He had to understand that, right?

The drive to your mother’s slow and silent. You should have had millions of thoughts zipping across your brain, but there was nothing. Radio silence. If your life was a cartoon, your brain would be the static black and white TV screen with only a faint crackle in the background. There was nothing. Something you were grateful for. 

“How did it go?” Your mom’s cheery voice echoes down the hall as you shut the front door, resting against it. You breathe a sigh as she appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. 

“Oh dear.” The state your in must have been a pretty good indicator. Your ponytail is lopsided with strands falling out. Your eyes puffy and red. 

“It’s alright. I don’t want to talk about it.” You wave your hand at her and disappear into the guest room, needing the rest of the night to yourself. 

Michael’s Point of View 

“I’m sorry,” Tom says, placing a beer into my right hand. I sigh, running my left hand over my face. 

“It’s not your fault. She's your friend too. You have every right to invite her places.” I say, swallowing three large gulps of the icy amber liquid. 

“You need to talk about it,” Tom mumbles after a few long minutes of silence. 

“No, I don't.” 

“Yes you do, Mike. You clearly can’t talk to her about it. Who do you have then? Just me, man. You need to talk to someone.” 

I sigh again, knowing that Tom is right. He is my best friend, outside of Y/N. I should tell him what’s going on. 

“She left the other day. She packed while I was at practice and she just tried to leave while I was gone. Like I wouldn’t figure it out.” I start. Tom nods in encouragement, drinking his own beer. 

“I don’t understand why she wants to leave. I don’t know what’s changed.” I run a hand through my mouse brown hair.

“You have no idea? At all?” Tom throws me a side glance.

“I mean... I don’t know. She got mad that I didn’t come home for dinner the other day.” 

“Was it the only time that that happened?” This thought stops me. Had it only happened once? It did...didn’t it? 

“I...don’t know..” I mumble. 

“Yes you do, Mike.”

“Oh my god.” I sit up straight abruptly. “Oh my god. How could I have not known? I have been pushing her away so much. I’ve skipped dinners and I’ve stopped texting her and I’ve stopped...caring.” I groan throwing my head back. 

“Why are you still sitting here, Michael? I’m not the one you should be talking to anymore.” I nod, standing, wiping my hands on my jeans. I have to find her. I have to get to her.

I run to my car, climbing in and speeding off towards her mom’s. It’s my only chance.