thepuckbuddies

[thepuckbuddies]

this is so kind!! will be back to writing more soon :)

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Hey guys! I just wanted to make a quick post about some of my favorite hockey blogs! I can read their imagines, preferences, head-cannons, etc over and over again so I just wanted to share them encase y'all were looking for some content to read! 

@hockeywritingcollective @hockey-writes @hartsytrash @seggstars @spookyscarysalamander @thepuckbuddies @maple-leafing @andremarcusburky

[thepuckbuddies]

lifeline

prompt:  nhlhockeydreamer asked - would you be willing to write one with auston mathews where he forces the reader to go to a hockey gatherimg with him and hes tired but the reader is more awake and offers to drive and he declines and then he accidentally goes through a red and driver hits the passenger side of the car and the reader gets hurt where as matthews doesnt and how he reacts

player: Auston Matthews (Toronto Maple Leafs)

TW: Characters are involved in a car crash, and there is discussion of hospitalization and some injury.

“(Y/N)!” Auston calls into your apartment, door slamming shut behind him.

“On the couch!” you call back, pausing the movie you’d been watching. Auston bustles in, stripping off his coat, and reaches out a hand to pull you up.

“Come on, time to get dressed!” He begins to usher you into your bedroom and gives you a little nudge towards the closet.

“Uh...for what?”

“There’s a dinner tonight for all the guys and their families,” Auston replies, stripping off his shirt and heading towards the bathroom. You unashamedly wolf-whistle, admiring the cut lines of his body. He turns are gives you a withering look. “Babe, I’m serious. It’s in, like, forty-five minutes. We’ve gotta be there!”

“Forty-five?” You raise your eyebrows and look down at yourself. Ratty t-shirt you’ve had for years, comfy Leafs sweats that are definitely Auston’s and way too big for you, fuzzy socks, unwashed hair. You know, the works. “Auston…” He huffs and scoots back over to press a kiss to your cheek pleadingly, resting his big hands on your shoulders and ducking to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/N), please? It’ll be fun! Just hop in the shower now, we can totally make it in time!” You sigh.

“Alright, alright, put away the puppy-dog eyes, Aus. But afterwards, we’re coming back here to relax, okay?” Frowning, you brush a thumb over the dark circles under his eyes. “These are worse than usual, baby, are you sure you want to go?” you ask. Auston waves a hand dismissively.

“Those bags are Gucci, sweetcheeks, I’m good,” he says with a grin. “Now, shower? Please?” You shake your head ruefully and move to the bathroom.

“If you say so…”

*****

Thirty minutes later, Auston is standing at the apartment door, checking his watch.

“Babe, are you ready to go yet?” he sighs.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m right here!” You say, standing on one foot as you tug on the straps of your heel, supporting yourself with one hand on the wall. “I would’ve been ready earlier if you had told me about this, you know,” you add mildly. Auston holds out your coat, and you slip into it, turning around to meet his gaze,

“You look beautiful,” he says, smiling slightly down at you. You press a chaste kiss to his lips, resting one hand on his jaw.

“Thank you.” Stepping back, you give him some cheesy elevator eyes. “You clean up well too, handsome,” you tease. Auston rolls his eyes and offers you his arm as he whisks you out of the apartment and to the elevator.

Watching the numbers tick down, you look over to see Auston covering a yawn with his hand, leaning back against the elevator wall and closing his eyes.

“You sure you’re up for this?” you ask. “We can always go to the next one.” Auston cracks one eye open and squints at you.

“I’m good,” he replies, pushing himself off the wall as the elevator dings at the ground floor to let you both off. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side as you walk in step to his car. You feel him yawn again.

“How about I drive?” you ask, holding out your hand for the keys. Auston scoffs and steers you to the passenger door, opening it up.

“Come on, babe. I’m fine,” he says, pouting a little.

“I know, Auston, I’m just saying, you could rest a little as we drive over? That’s all.”

“It’s not a big deal, (Y/N).”

“I know, I’m just saying, I could drive us.” Auston shakes his head and offers you his hand to step into the car.

“I got this.” Shrugging, you hop into the car and buckle up while he makes his way over to the driver’s seat.

Auston’s music plays over the speakers as you turn onto University Ave. You don’t talk much as you make your way out of downtown Toronto and onto quieter streets, letting the low thrumming of the bass fill the silence. You’re looking out at the bright lights of the city nightlight when you hear Auston yawning again.

Huffing a little laugh to yourself, you turn and see him resting with one hand comfortably on the wheel, head tipped back against the seat. He’s squinting a little against the flashing bars of street light that pass over his eyes, lashes turned gold in the slight yellow glow.

Smiling to yourself, you turn back to your window and watch the buildings flow by. Your phone buzzes in your lap - a text message from a friend. Typing out a reply, you see a weird movement out of the corner of your eye. Looking up, you gasp and yell out.

“Auston, look ouー!”

The pickup truck barrels through the intersection, slamming into the passenger side door. Glass shatters, metal crunches, and your vision goes black.

*****

“(Y/N), baby, come on, answer me. Come on, please, answer me, Iー”

“No, you have to let me go with you, I can’t leave her, pleaseー”

“Stabilize her neck, and watch her arm. Get me an IVー”

“(Y/N), you’re going to be just fine, alright? You have to beー”

“God, this is my fault, it’s all my fucking fault, I can’tー”

“Come back to be, okay? Please, I can’tー”

“I love you so muchー”

“(Y/N)ー”

*****

Beep. Beep. Beep. The steady rhythm of a heart rate monitor is the first thing you notice. Wrinkling your nose, you try to shift away from the noise.

“Ahー!” You hiss through your teeth as a searing pain radiates from your shoulder and the right side of your face begins to ache. Your eyes fly open to see the bland white and blue of a hospital room. Instinctively, you try to move your opposite hand to touch your collarbone or your cheek, but you can’t move it from under a heavy weight. Looking over, you see your boyfriend fast asleep, hand tucked into yours and cheek resting on them both, fast asleep. He looks, frankly, like hell.

He’s unshaven, his hair is greasy, and the bags under his eyes are, somehow, three times the size they were earlier. Softening, you slowly work your hand out from under him, running your fingers through his hair and watching as the lines between his eyebrows and next to his mouth begin to fade. The door clicks open as two familiar figures shuffle in, quietly closing the door behind them. Mitch Marner and Patrick Marleau are carrying flowers and a balloon that cheerfully proclaims “Get Well Soon!”, clearly acting as team representatives.

“You’re awaー” Mitch starts, blue eyes wide in surprise. You hold a finger to your lips and gesture down at Auston, smiling a little as Mitch winces. “You’re awake!” He repeats, somewhat quieter. He moves towards the bed and sets the flowers down on the table there. Patty follows behind and smiles at you.

“How are you feeling?” he says, eyes kind.

“A little banged up,” you say, wincing when you automatically try to shrug. You tuck your hand back into Auston’s hair and keep stroking as you look between your two guests. “What exactly happened?” you ask. “Last thing I remember is the pickup truck hitting us.”

Mitch nods. “Your car spun out pretty badly. Since you took most of the impact, you’ve got most of the injuries.” You nod, remembering how fast the other car had been going.

“We’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” you mutter, zoning out a little. Your eyes jump to Patty’s again. “Wait, the other driver! Is he alright?” Patty nods.

“Matts said they kept him in the hospital for a day to monitor him for head trauma, but he was released with no injuries.”

“A day? How long have I been out?” you ask, startled.

“Just under two days,” Mitch pipes in. “You’ve kind of been in and out of consciousness.” He nods towards Auston. “He hasn’t left your side except for when they make him. I think this is the first time he’s slept.” You look over at your sleeping boyfriend, shaking your head. No wonder he looks so terrible. Auston snuffles a little and his shoulders shift as he starts waking up as if he had heard them talking about him. Patty grips Mitch’s shoulder, tugging a little.

“We’re going to go grab something to eat, alright? Give you two some time to talk. We’ll bring you something back, if they’ll let us. This hospital food isn’t the best.” You thank them quietly and watch as they make their way out of the room, talking in low whispers. Auston recaptures your attention, groaning a little as he flexes his hand.

“Auston, are you alright?” you ask, keeping your voice quiet. Auston’s head shoots up, spine suddenly ramrod straight.

“You’re awake!” He says dumbly, voice still thick with sleep. The chair screeches a little when he stands up, leaning over you to press kisses all over the left side of your face. “Thank God, I thought I’d lost you,” he mutters into your hair. He leans back again, expression worried.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” he begins, scanning your face. His dark eyes start to well up with tears as his mouth trembles. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I didn’t mean to, I swear, I’m sorryー” You shush him, gingerly reaching up one hand to cup his cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

“Auston, baby, it’s okay, we’re alright.” He shuts his eyes, pressing a kiss to your palm as he covers your hand with his.

Worriedly, you scan him up and down. “Aus, are you alright? Are you hurt?” He chokes out a little laugh.

“You ask if I’m alright? Baby, you’reー” he cuts himself off, taking a breath. “You’re all bandaged and broken, and it’s my fault, and you’re still asking if I’m alright.”

“It wasn’t your fault!” you protest.

“I ran a red light, (Y/N), of course it’s my fault!” Auston half-shouts, another tear running down his cheek. Shocked, you blink dumbly at him for a second. Giving yourself an internal shake, you quickly recover.

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? Whyー”

“Did you?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then it’s okay.” You say, emphasizing the last word slowly. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for any of this, alright?” Auston stares at you disbelievingly.

“How? How? I was tired and you told me I shouldn’t, but I didn’t listen and now you’re in the fucking hospital? Andー”

“And it was an accident, Auston. They happen sometimes. We’re alive and we’re okay, which is all that matters.” Auston’s face drops. Gritting your teeth, you scoot a little to your right, ignoring the pain coming from what seems to be a broken collarbone and your boyfriend’s confused protests.

“Come on, hop on up,” you say, patting the bed next to you and leaving your arm outstretched. Auston shuts his mouth and scrambles up, careful not to jostle you too much as he tucks himself into your side, legs scrunched up comically in the tiny hospital bed. He rests his head on your the join of your chest and shoulder, and you card your fingers through his hair again.

“Mitch and Patty say you haven’t left,” you murmur. He gives a minute shake of his head.

“I couldn’t,” he says in reply, wrapping one arm around you to rest a warm palm over your ribs. Humming slightly, you scritch against his scalp and feel him melt into you. “I wouldn’t.”

“Aus?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Shuddering out a sigh, Auston presses a kiss to your neck and snuggles in closer, weaving his legs in between yours.

“I love you, too.”

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

A/N: yoooo check me out trying with the angst that really just turns to cuddles because i am INCAPABLE of writing anything without cuddles!!!! 

also disclaimer i’ve never been in anything more serious than a fender bender, so any inaccuracy in regards to injury or accidents may be blamed on my poor googling skills. also support people with broken collarbones, they are the actual worst

hopefully you all enjoyed this! as always, requests are open and i am more available to write recently, which is why a little less radio silence. love yall and catch ya on the flip

[thepuckbuddies]

Can u write with will nylander, when they had fight before sleep and the reader has a nightmare so he forgets about the fight before and comforts her and they are ok? Thanks xx

when will willy nylander return from the war

but hey in the meantime here’s an imagine you requested from actually a year ago!! because im the worst!!

hope you like it!

[thepuckbuddies]

sleep scare

prompt:  Can u write with will nylander, when they had fight before sleep and the reader has a nightmare so he forgets about the fight before and comforts her and they are ok? Thanks xx

player: William Nylander (Toronto Maple Leafs)

“Why can’t you stop and listen to me?”

“Well, if you ever say anything worth listening to, maybe I will!” Willy shouts back, throwing his hands up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening up.

“God, you’re so–” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. Willy turns away, grabbing his phone off the dresser and storming out of the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You follow him out, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “It’s 11:30!”

“Away from here!” He shouts back. The door slams behind him with finality. Frustrated, you grit your teeth and storm into the kitchen, angrily blinking away tears. You get yourself a glass of water and heave out a shuddering breath, sinking your head down as you rest your hands on the counter.

It’s such a stupid fight. You’ve been feeling a little neglected lately, so you brought it up with Willy, but he had laughed it off and said that you spent plenty of time together. You’d gotten frustrated, then he’d gotten frustrated, and then you weren’t entirely sure what you were fighting about, just that you were yelling and arguing and now you’re alone and he’s gone and–

You pinch the bridge of your nose, telling yourself not to cry. Setting your glass down in the sink, you drag yourself off to bed, head down. Sniffling, you get one of Willy’s soft Leafs hoodies and snuggle in, dragging his pillow close. You send a text off to your wayward boyfriend – Come home babe, we can talk it out later okay? – and plug it in to charge.

You tuck your nose into the collar of the hoodie, sinking into the bed as Willy’s familiar scent hits you. You sigh and close your eyes, wishing he was there.

*****

“No!” You shout, sitting bolt upright in bed, cheeks wet with tears. Ragged gasps echo in your empty room, the bed cold beside you. “No, no, no,” you repeat, clutching the closest pillow to you and willing yourself to calm down, to no avail.

You don’t have nightmares often, but you’ve never liked sleeping alone. You feel the tears hot on your cheeks and let out a sob, tucking your head between your knees. You hear a thump from further within the apartment and startle, scrambling away from the door as footsteps rapidly approach.

“(Y/N)?” you hear as the door creaks open. Willy’s voice is concerned and sleep-rough, his face lit up by the ambient light of pre-dawn peeking in through your unclosed blinds. At the sight of him, you crumple again, trying to stifle your cries with the sleeve of his hoodie. He’s okay, you tell yourself, look, he’s right there, unharmed, totally fine, everything is fine. All it does is make you cry harder.

Within seconds, Willy is on the bed with you, one hand sinking into your loose hair as he tucks your face into his chest.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he soothes, stroking one hand down your back. Gently, he lies back, keeping you pressed to his side, murmuring all the while. “I’m here, baby, you’re safe,” he says, pressing kisses to your temple between sentences. You clench your hand into the back of his t-shirt and thread your legs between his, listening to the low rumble of his voice. Eventually, you calm down and snuggle into his chest, not wanting to look him in the eye. He keeps up the soothing motions until you start to speak.

“Will?” you start tentatively. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I know you’ve got a lot going on, and throwing complaints at you like that isn’t fair.” Your voice sounds terrible, still raw from crying, but Willy just cards a hand through your hair, stroking a thumb over the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean what I said, and I do love spending time with you.” Gingerly, he uses the grip he has on you to push you back a little and tilt your face up. “What happened, what’s got you so scared?” He strokes his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the last of the tears. His blue eyes are bright and concerned, brows drawn down. You shake your head, unwilling to bring up the nightmare. The way he had looked sprawled out on the ice, helmet spinning away, eyes blank and staring…

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.” Willy frowns, not really wanting to let it go, but willing to do so for now. You press a kiss to the palm of his hand, fluttering your eyes shut. “I’m glad you’re back, Willy.” You open your eyes again, just in time to see Will’s expression soften.

“I’ll always come back, sweetheart. You can count on that.” He presses a kiss to your nose and dips down to your mouth, not caring about the salt he can taste there. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say. He tucks one arm beneath your head and the other over your side, seemingly unconcerned that his hand is almost certainly going to be dead asleep in the morning.

“Let’s get some rest, okay? We’ll go out to breakfast in the morning.” Sighing out a breath, you press a kiss to the shoulder closest to you.

“Good night, Will,” you say.

“Good night, baby.”

[thepuckbuddies]

breakfast pt.2

prompt: iangiemae asked -  Ohhh, can I get a part 2 of Alex & Breakfast please?

player: Alex Galchenyuk, Arizona Coyotes

“Hey, (Y/N), I’m ho–” Alex cuts off as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Laughing, he drops his bags and spins you around, letting you press kisses to his cheeks and nose. Smiling, you card your fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck and kiss him softly on the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” you say quietly. Alex’s gaze softens and he lets you down, hands warm on your back as he pulls you close.

“Well, I’m back now,” he replies. “No more long trips this summer.” You grin at him, leaning into his chest and raising an eyebrow.

“So I have you all to myself for now?” You trail a hand down from his chest to slip around his side, brushing against the sensitive skin over his ribs and tucking into the back pocket of his pants. Alex’s pupils blow out slightly as you lean forward.

“I’m all yours,” Alex says.

“Well, Mr. Galchenyuk…” you trail off, biting your lower lip, then step away, smiling brightly. “You can help me make dinner!” You spin on your heel and bounce into the kitchen, unable to stop yourself from giggling at the spluttering you hear behind you. You poke your head out from the doorway and smile at your boyfriend.

“We can have dessert afterwards,” you say, winking. Alex sighs and starts toward you, shaking his head.

“You’re a menace,” he says.

“Your menace, though,” you reply, turning to put on some music and letting it play quietly through the kitchen.

“God help me,” Alex teases, leaning up against the counter. “So, chef, what are we making?”

“What are you feeling?” you ask.

“How about–oh, hold up.” He picks up his ringing phone. “Hello? Oh, hello, sir. Yes, it’s going well, thank you.” He’s silent for a long moment. You tilt your head and furrow your brow. Sounds like serious business, but about what you’re not sure. “I understand. Thank you for the opportunity to play for you.” Alex finishes up, staring down at the floor. Your hand flies to your mouth. A trade?

Alex looks up at you, blue eyes wide and sorrowful. He puts his phone down on the counter and turns out of the kitchen. Cautiously, you follow him out to the living room, finding him sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees and hands buried deep into his hair. Gingerly, you sit down next to him.

“Alex, baby?” You say quietly. He takes a deep breath and sits back, blinking over at you.

“I’ve been traded to Arizona.”

“...Arizona?” you whisper. Alex nods, leaning his head down onto your shoulder.

“Arizona,” he confirms, voice just as quiet. You stare off into the distance, thinking hard. You and Alex had been dating for about a year and a half now, just as sweet and in love as those first few meetings. You feel Alex’s hand creep into yours, lacing your fingers together. Giving yourself a little shake, you bring yourself back to the present and squeeze Alex’s hand.

“Well, this is good,” you start slowly. Alex stiffens, straightening up and turning to face you.

“What?” he says, shocked. 

“I mean, you’ll be getting out from under Bergevin and really far away from Therrien. And you’ll finally get to play center! And–” Alex tugs his hand away, standing up from the couch and moving to look out of the glass door that leads to the balcony. “Hey, baby, what…”

Alex’s head drops and his shoulders start shaking. “Is hockey all you’re thinking about right now?” His voice is thick with suppressed emotion, and, when he finally turns to face you, you’re surprised to see that his eyes are a little wet. You soften, standing up too.

“No, Alex, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I know you’re leaving your home and your friends, and it’ll be hard, but you–” He chokes out a laugh, cutting you off.

“What about you in all this, huh? You seem perfectly fine with me leaving.” You furrow your brow.

“I mean, it’s a good time for me, too, you have to know that.” Alex reels back like he’s been hit, mouth dropping open a little bit. “My job has kind of stagnated, it’ll be nice to have a fresh start, you know? Whatever happens, I’m sure I can handle it. The Arizona heat will be a weird adjustment, definitely, but I don’t think–oh!”

Alex crosses the room in two strides and wraps you up in a tight hug, leaning down to tuck his face deep in the crook of your neck and shoulder. His arms wrap around you, palms warm on your sides. 

“Alex?”

“Baby,” he says, accent thickening. “You’d come with me?” Startled, you tighten your grip on his shirt.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you say. A horrible realization hits you. Your stomach goes cold and tears spring to your eyes unbidden. Panicking and heartsick, you start to babble. “Wait, unless you don’t want me to, which, you know, is okay, just unexpected, and I–”

“No! No, baby, no.” Alex leans back, cupping your face in his palms. You automatically cover his hand with yours, leaning into the warmth. “(Y/N), I would love for you to come with me. God, I thought you didn’t even care about breaking up, I just–.” He stops, shaking his head. “Please. Come to Arizona with me.”

“Alex, of course. I’d follow you anywhere,” you say softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw and leaning your head onto his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his chest. “You’re it for me, you know that?” 

The hand stroking lines of warmth down your spine stops. Alex tilts your head back with one hand on your cheek.

“I love you so much,” he says, grin wide and eyes soft. His beard scratches lightly at your skin as he kisses you deeply, leaning you back into his arms. You can’t help but laugh into the kiss when his stomach grumbles.

“Oh, we have to get some dinner in you.” Smiling, you kiss him again and turn away, heading into the kitchen. “We’ll get everything sorted tomorrow, okay? We have time,” you toss over your shoulder.

Alex smiles at your retreating figure and shakes his head. “I’m going to marry that girl one day,” he says to himself, thinking of the ring he has tucked away in his spare gear bag.

He can’t wait.

[thepuckbuddies]

Can you do a David Pastrnak imagine pls? Just pure fluff and maybe something Christmas related? Idc it’s up to you! Your Zach Werenski got me in the feels rn 😂

sorry it took so long! it’s just been posted. merry christmas :)

[thepuckbuddies]

filled with cheer and you

prompt:  Can you do a David Pastrnak imagine pls? Just pure fluff and maybe something Christmas related? Idc it’s up to you! Your Zach Werenski got me in the feels rn 😂

player: David Pastrňák, Boston Bruins

“Baby, have you seen my hat?” You call over your shoulder as you putter around the front entryway, patting your coat pockets and looking around. Your vision goes dark a second later as your boyfriend pulls a knit hat down over your eyes. Grinning, you huff out a laugh and turn to face him, leaving the fabric over your eyes. “Oh, perfect, looks like we’re all ready to go now!”

David’s laughter is fond and warm as he tugs the hat back to cover your ears and allows you to open your eyes. You look up at him, matching his smile.

“Always perfect,” David says, accent thick on the words. You shake your head, blush spreading lightly across your cheeks, and wind your hands into the lapels of his coat. Reaching up on your tiptoes, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re sweet,” you say, rocking back onto your heels. David reaches behind you and pulls your scarf off the hooks on the wall. He begins to wind it snugly around you, arching an eyebrow.

“No wonder you like to kiss me so much,” he teases, tongue poking out between his teeth. “You have a big sweet tooth.” You shrug, unrepentant, and let him tuck in the end of your scarf so it won’t unravel.

“At least I have teeth,” you shoot back.

“Ah, unfair! I have teeth!” You give him a look. “I do!” You’re laughing at him as you hand him his mittens and hat, ushering him out the door. David rolls his eyes and tosses an arm around your shoulders, tucking you close to his body as your wrap an arm around his waist. In step, the two of you make your way out to the car, on your way to get the Christmas tree for your apartment.

“Excited?” Pasta asks, glancing over at you to catch your enthusiastic nod. “Me, too. Favorite holiday!” He says, pale eyes alight with excitement. His blonde curls peak out from under his hat and catch the bright snowflakes as they drift down from the sky. You lean into his side a little more and squeeze his waist, letting go as you reach the car. He grins like a little kid as he shepherds you into the car and shuts the door behind you.

***

Neat rows of tall fir trees lead to an open forest in front of you as you look over the huge field in amazement. You can tell this place has the pre-cut trees and the option to pick out your own and cut it, so you’re excited to see what they’ve got in their expansive stock. The snow is still falling at a gentle rate, the temperature cold but not uncomfortable.

You start slightly when David takes your hand and leads you forward, slightly rough wool of his mittens catching on your bare skin. He frowns, looking down.

“You didn’t bring gloves?” You offer him a sheepish grin.

“I...may have forgotten them.” David shakes his head fondly and tucks both of your hands into his right pocket, giving you his other mitten to wear on your free hand.

“I guess we’ll just have to hold hands, then,” he says.

“Oh, the tragedy,” you reply, laughing. You turn your attention back to the trees and pull David along as you start forward, eager to get going.

Half an hour later, you’re still waffling between two trees.

“David, though, look. Look! This one is taller and has that gap at like hip height, but this one is a bit fatter and doesn’t have any gaps. Shorter, though.” You’re still hemming and hawing as David wraps his arms around you and buries your face in his chest, thick coat not stopping the heat of his body from reaching you. You sigh and nuzzle into the hug, happy to be spending time with him.

“You’re so serious about this, (Y/N).” You lift your head and kind of pout up at him, lips pursing slightly. His eyes widen innocently. “It’s cute, though! Very cute!” Smiling, he gently strokes a hand through the hair that had escaped from your hat and tucks it behind your ear, fingertips a little cold. He lets his hand rest on your cheek.

You close your eyes as he leans down to kiss you, hair slightly tickling your cheek where it pokes out of his hat. He strokes his thumb across your cheekbone, brushing against your eyelashes, and deepens the kiss, leaning you back into his hold. All thoughts of a tree leave your mind as you get lost in David — his hands, his mouth, his heart beating under the palm you’re resting on his chest. Eventually, you break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his shoulder and letting out a breath, fogging up the scant space between you two. David presses his cheek to your head, leaning against you.

“Which tree, baby?” He asks, voice rumbling deep in his chest as his accent rolled over the endearment.

“The shorter one,” you say, still a little breathless. You barely feel him press a kiss to your hat as he straightens the two of you out and goes to get the tree all set up to come home with you. Smiling, you close your eyes and let the scent of Frasier fir and pine envelop you, losing yourself in the memory of the kiss, snowflakes melting across your cheeks as you tip your head back.

***

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” You ask as David struggles to pull the tree upright.

“Yes!” David insists, grunting. For the third time, the tree jolts and smacks the floor in a shower of pine needles. David looks at the tree in utter disapproval. “...Okay. Maybe a little help would be nice.” Together, the two of you get the tree in the stand and upright, only a little wobbly. Stepping back, David grins proudly at it nestled in the corner. You have to stifle a laugh at his expression.

Christmas music plays merrily from the sound system hooked up in the living room; the song changes and Donny Hathaway’s “This Christmas” comes on, upbeat music causing you to start dancing around a little.

“Hang all the mistletoe, I’m gonna get to know you better this Christmas,” you sing, turning to face David and pulling him in. “And as we trim the tree, how much fun it’s gonna be together, this Christmas.” David doesn’t seem to know the words, but he cranks up the volume to an obnoxious level and returns to link hands with you and bop around the room. You toss your head back, laughing at the weird shoulder shimmy thing he does, hands warm on your hips. “The fireside is blazing bright, we’re caroling through the night! This Christmas will be a very special Christmas for me,” you sing to him as you try your best to spin him under your arm despite the height difference.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him laugh that hard as you’re hopping around, leading him in a ridiculous dance. The song dies off with a final fading croon, and David catches your hand, tugging you into him. He presses a kiss to your knuckles and looks up at you, expression soft and fond.

“I love you,” he says, eyes earnest.

“I love you, too,” you say, letting yourself melt into him. You reach up and cup his jaw in your hand, pressing kisses to his cheek, the tip of his nose, and finally his mouth, a gentle warmth building between you. “I’m happy you’re here with me,” you say softly, blinking up at him. David smiles and kisses you again.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

a/n: hope you liked it! sorry it took so long, thanksgiving happened and prepping for finals has been kicking my ass. as an aside, i don’t know much about the bruins, so i watched this video on pasta and i think i’m in love. so. thanks for that lol

as always, requests are open and i’m currently working on the ones in my inbox! happy holidays, everyone :)

[thepuckbuddies]

Hey can I have a zach werenski imagine where he proposes?

just posted, bud! hope you like it!

[thepuckbuddies]

upsetti spaghetti

prompt:  Hey can I have a zach werenski imagine where he proposes? (from anonymous)

player: Zach Werenski, Columbus Blue Jackets

“Hey, babe? I’m home!” You call into the apartment, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped tight around your face to protect you from the howling wind in the streets outside. You pause when you hear a cut-off curse and a clatter from the kitchen nearby. Your boyfriend appears in the doorway, face red and slightly sweaty.

“Oh, hey, (Y/N), what’s up? I didn’t, uh, know you would be home this early!” Zach says, not-so-casually leaning against the doorframe to block your view of the kitchen. His dark hair is mussed on one side, and his clothes are in disarray.

“...yeah, I managed to get away early.” You say, quirking an eyebrow. You move towards the doorway he’s in, and he jumps forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and steering you towards the living room. You offer him a confused smile, sure something is up but without any clue as to what it is. He grins back at you and nudges you down on the couch.

“Well, good! Stay right there, I’ll grab you something to drink!” He’s off before you can even say thank you, bustling back into the kitchen. He returns with a glass and a bowl of chips, setting them down. “Here, have the remote, put your feet up, relax!”

“Thanks, babe, but what��” you start. Zach isn’t normally this frantic-cheerful, so you’re kind of worried something’s gone wrong. You stop trying to talk when he leans down to kiss you, running a hand through your hair. You relax into it, feeling the tension leech out of his body too as you rest one hand on his shoulder and one over his heart.

“I’ll be back, okay? Why don’t you put on something to watch?” Zach suggests, leaning back. Shaking your head, you agree and rest back against the arm of the couch, wrapping your arms around a pillow. Zach smiles at you and disappears out of the room, head down as he mutters something to himself.

You’ve only gotten a few minutes into the episode of Scrubs you put on when a heavy thump echoes in the apartment. Worried, you sit up and call out.

“Zach? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby, just, uh, slipped! Everything’s fine!”

‘You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah!” You sit back again and frown, reluctantly returning your attention to the TV again, fiddling with the pillow’s edge. Only a few minutes later, you hear him yelp out a curse as there’s another loud crash. That’s enough for you. It was kind of funny watching him try to be subtle while it lasted. but you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself any minute now. Tossing your pillow to the side, you storm across the room.

“Zach, seriously, what is going on? Is something wr—,” you stop in your tracks as you reach the doorway. “Oh.” Zach is staring wide-eyed at you as he tries to cover the mess he’s made. “Oh, boy.”

The kitchen is wrecked, frankly. The stove and the wall behind it is covered in red sauce and there’s dry spaghetti everywhere, scattered across the floor and countertops. There’s at least twenty different dishes piled haphazardly in the sink, and the oven door is wide open, spilling heat out into the room. The source of the crash seems to be the tray of what looks like garlic bread sitting upside down on the floor, its contents forlornly scattered around it. You take in the entire mess and slowly drag your gaze up to where your boyfriend is standing in the middle of it, cheeks bright red.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he says immediately. You raise an eyebrow and he winces. “Alright, so it’s as bad as it looks.” He sighs and drops his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair and getting red sauce all through it. “I tried to make dinner for you, but the spaghetti went everywhere and only like half of it went in the pot, then the red sauce overheated and got all over and I think it burned on the bottom, so I was distracted trying to fix that, and then I thought the garlic bread was done so I went to get it out of the oven but I forgot a mitt and I burned my fingers and dropped the tray, so now it’s all over the floor, and—”

You can’t help but start to giggle, only laughing harder when Zach pouts at you.

“This isn’t funny, (Y/N), nothing went right.” He’s frowning at you as you try to stop yourself from laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth, but it’s just so adorable. He’s a mess, but he’s your mess. You smile at him and pull a hand towel from the countertop as you walk over.

“Zach, you don’t have to cook me dinner,” you say, still grinning as you wipe off the worst of the sauce all over his face and hair.

“But—”

“There’s no need to be so upsetti, spaghetti,” you continue.

“You’re the worst,” he laughs, shoulders slumping. He rests his hands on your hips as you finish cleaning him off. You lean up onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh, am I? I’m the worst? That’s not a very nice thing to say,” you tease. Zach rolls his eyes and pokes at you, laughing as you flinch away, ticklish. “Uh-uh, mister, no way. You’ve got a mess to clean up.” Zach makes a face, scrunching up his nose, hazel eyes bright.

“Alright, alright, I know,” he says mournfully, looking around.

“How about this? I’ll go get takeout from that place we love on 5th while you clean this up and take a shower.”

“I love you, you know that?” Zach says, smiling again.

“I love you, too,” you laugh as you blow him a joking kiss goodbye, wrapping yourself up in your scarf again.

***

You’re greeted at the door of the apartment an hour later by a squeaky clean boyfriend and a soft kiss as he takes your coat and the food from you, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you to the living room. You stutter-step as you catch sight of the room.

Everything is bathed in the soft light of what seems like a hundred candles, flickering flames lending a golden glow to the otherwise dark room. Gentle music plays in the background, a mix of acoustic songs that weave guitars in with soft voices. There’s a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the vase on the coffee table, soft sprays of baby’s breath mixed in with rich red roses. Zach grins at your reaction and guides you, stunned, to sit on thick cushions pilfered from the couch to rest on the floor. You turn to blink at Zach, wide-eyed. He shrugs bashfully.

“It would’ve been like this last time, but you came home early.” You laugh and throw your arms around his shoulders, feeling his own come around you to bring you close to his chest.

“It’s beautiful, you romantic sap!” You exclaim, eyes shining as you lean back. “Thank you,” you add, knowing the expression on your face must be the most love-struck thing. You happily dish up the food, splitting the entrees between you as you always do.

The dinner passes in comfortable discussion and laughter as the two of you get entirely wrapped up in each other. Eventually, Zach gets up to gather your plates and shakes his head when you offer to help.

“I’ll be right back, just have to get something from the kitchen,” he says. As he turns to go, you tip your head back to blink up at the ceiling, unable to stop yourself from grinning. You’re so in love with him, it feels like it’s going to burst right out of you. The feeling only intensifies when Zach reappears, waggling his eyebrows as he proudly shows off a little cheesecake made for two. You laugh at his antics and applaud appropriately as he sets down the dessert with a flourish.

The treat doesn’t last long, since both of you have a bit of a weakness for cheesecake, and you soon find yourself laughing as Zach tries to get a bit of chocolate off his cheek with his tongue.

“Come here, dork,” you chuckle, leaning forward. Your palm is warm on his cheek, thumb brushing away the chocolate. As you move to pull away, Zach’s palm covers yours, dark eyes earnest as he leans his head into your hand. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes close, sighing as he turns to press a kiss to your palm.

“Come on,” he says quietly, “Let’s lie down.” He links his fingers with yours and won’t let go, even when there’s some finagling to get you both in the position he wants. He’s flat on his back and you’re tucked between the back of the couch and his chest, head cushioned on his right shoulder and bicep as his arm curls around you, thumb brushing absentmindedly up and down your arm. You’re beginning to drift off to the steady sound of his breathing when he shifts under you.

“(Y/N), can I ask you something?” You lift your head to meet his gaze. Zach looks nervous, brows slightly drawn down and mouth tight.

“Always, babe. What is it?”

“I...never mind.” You furrow your brow.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Zach seems to trying to smooth his expression, but he still looks nervous and a little...something else you’re not sure of. Disappointed? Concerned, you hitch yourself up and look down at him, hair falling a little into your face. He reaches up and tucks it behind your ear.

“You can tell me, you know,” you say, a little pleading.

“I know, baby.”

“I love you.”

“I know, baby.”

“You’re a dork.”

“I know, baby.”

“Can you say anything else?”

“No, baby.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” you pout. Zach cracks a grin and pulls you back down to his chest, pressing his face to your hair.

“I love you, too,” he mutters. You laugh and pat his chest, resting your hand over his heart.

“I know, baby.” The music in the background fills the silence, and the comfort of the night wraps around the two of you as you cuddle together. Eventually, the song changes to a cover of Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon”, and you grin into Zach’s chest as he begins to move his shoulders to the beat.

“Alright, alright, come on,” you say, climbing off him to offer him a hand up, using it to pull him close to you. You link your fingers together and drape your other hand over his right shoulder as he curls his around your waist. Together, you sway to the beat, Zach humming under his breath. You rest your head on his shoulder and begin to quietly sing.

“Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say. Just like children sleeping, we could dream this night away.” Your voice is nothing to really call home about, but you’re not self-conscious around Zach and don’t mind singing around him when you wouldn’t with others.

The song continues playing as the two of you sway, pressed close together in the middle of your living room. You press a kiss to the bottom of Zach’s jaw and shift back to look him in the eye, smiling softly. Zach looks back at you, fondness written across his expression.

“Marry me,” he says. You blink at him and your lips part in shock.

“What?”

“Marry me, (Y/N),” Zach repeats, that same fond look still on his face. “I’ve never loved anything like I love you.” He extracts himself from your hold but doesn’t let go of your hand. Your free hand flies to your mouth as he drops to the ground on one knee, reaching back to pull out a black box and flick it open one-handed.

You don’t even look at the ring. He’s all you can see.

“Let me spend the rest of my life at your side, (Y/N). Let me be there when you go to bed at night and be the first thing you see in the mornings. Let me try to make you dinner and let me hear you laugh when I fail. Let me be there for your ups and the downs, let me have you with me when I succeed and when I fail. Let me hold you close and let me love you the only when I ever will — wholly and unconditionally. (Y/N), will you marry me?”

Somehow, through the tears on your cheeks, the smile on your face, and the happy laugh bubbling out of your chest, you manage to nod and tell him the truest thing you’ve ever said.

“Yes! Yes, I’d love to marry you!” You barely wait for the ring to slip onto your finger before you’re kissing him senseless, so happy you can barely breathe. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you keep repeating between kisses, the both of you unable to stop grinning.

“I love you, too,” Zach says, hugging you tight.

You’re not letting go anytime soon.

author’s note: i hope whoever requested this enjoyed it! again, feel free to send in requests if you’d like!

[thepuckbuddies]

This is me sending in nuclear codes because I loved that Chucky imagine so much and it's all I have to offer besides applause: ♡♡♡♡

aw, thank you so much!

[thepuckbuddies]

breakfast

prompt:  We live in the same building, and you’re locked out of your place in your underwear because you were doing laundry and forgot your key. (from this post)

player: Alex Galchenyuk, Montreal Canadiens

The ding of the elevator reaching your floor startles you from where you were leaning against the wall, eyes closed. It had been a long day, to say the least, and you were beyond ready to crash. Blinking tiredly at your phone, screen reading 1:32 AM, you drag yourself out of the elevator and turn down the hallway towards your apartment, head down.

Yawning, you reach up to rub at your eye, sweater sleeve soft against your cheek.

“Uh.” You hear from in front of you. Startled, you look up to meet an equally shocked gaze.

“...am I dreaming?” you mutter to yourself under your breath. The man in front of you is gorgeous. His eyes are a brilliant blue, framed by tousled bed head and a dark, trimmed beard. His abs look like they were carved from fucking marble, or something, and his shoulders and arms show a thick swell of muscle. Your eyes track down his body to see possibly the most offensively orange slippers you’ve ever seen. Exhausted, you don’t even realize you’re staring until the guy clears his throat and shuffles a little, scuffing one of those horrible slippers on the floor.

Shaking yourself out of it, you look back up to meet his eyes, a slight blush creeping up your face. He quirks a half grin at you.

“They’re, uh. A gift from my sister,” he explains, shrugging. His voice is rich and lightly accented. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head in confusion.

“Well, they’re certainly...memorable?” You offer. His cheeks turn a little read, and you can’t help but feel endeared. “I’ve got penguin ones at home, so no worries. I don’t judge slippers.”

He makes a face.

“What, you don’t like penguins?”

“Not really,” he scrubs a hand over his hair, bicep flexing. You have to actively stop yourself from staring again but, to be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you succeed.

“Who doesn’t like penguins? They’re adorable and awkward!”

“Well, it’s kind of an occupational hazard, I guess.” He shrugs again. “I play hockey for the Canadiens, so it’s kind of ingrained.” Your eyes go wide. So that’s why he looks like a GQ model.

“What?” He asks, brow furrowing. You wave a hand, brushing off the question.

“The Canadiens, huh? That's really cool!” He smiles, a little shy, and covers a yawn with his hand. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry! You must be exhausted, and here I am keeping you up.” You frown when he scuffs his shoe again.

“Uh, I actually locked myself out when I went to do laundry? So, I'm kind of stuck here for...well, I'm not sure, actually.” You try to stop yourself from laughing but you can't keep in a burst of giggles.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing,” you apologize, grinning at him. You hesitate. “Maybe this is, like, way too forward, so I'm sorry if I'm being weird, but. If you want, you could crash at my place tonight? Instead of waiting for a key or something?” You relax when he smiles at you.

“Really? You wouldn't mind?” He asks hopefully. You shake your head. “That would be great.”

“Sweet! It's just down here.” You brush past him, feeling the warmth of his bare skin even from a few inches away. You lead the way to your apartment and pause with your key in the lock.

“You know? I'm about to let you sleep here and I don't even know your name,” you wonder aloud, turning to look at him over your shoulder. He laughs.

“It's Alex.”

“Well, Alex, it's nice to meet you. Welcome to Casa (Y/N).” You swing the door open with a dramatic flourish and usher him in.

“Nice place,” he offers, looking around.

“Thanks!” You blink at him for a second, realizing you've got a gorgeous half-naked man standing in your kitchen. “So, uh,” you cough, recovering. “Kitchen’s here, obviously. Feel free to grab whatever you’d like from the fridge. Glasses are up in that cabinet. Living room and couch are out there.” You point over the countertop into the open space on the other side. You unthinkingly put a hand on his arm to guide him out of the room. “Bathroom is down the hall, first door on your left. My room is on the right if you need me. I'll go grab you some pillows and blankets, make yourself at home!”

You take off into your room and thunk your head on your closet door. He's so attractive it's unfair, making you sound like a massive dork. “Oh, you play for one of the biggest franchises in sports? Cool!” You mock yourself, pulling blankets into your arms.

“Hey, I found some clothes that might fit you, if you want them,” you offer back in the living room after you've gathered everything.

“Oh, that's okay. I don't want to take your boyfriend’s clothes,” Alex says, shaking his head. You wrinkle your nose.

“Ex.”

“Sorry?”

“Ex-boyfriend. He's not coming back, so don't stress about it. Use them if you'd like.” Alex looks down at the clothes in his hands and smiles. He turns and puts them on the pile of blankets and pillows behind him before turning back and stepping closer to you.

“Hey, (Y/N), thank you so much for letting me stay here,” he says, blue eyes soft. You brush it off.

“No worries. I'd rather you here than be stuck out in the hallway all night.” He laughs quietly and takes another step forward.

“Still, thank you.” He hesitates, about to say something else, then seems to decide against it. Quickly, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your left cheek, beard surprisingly soft against your skin. “Good night, (Y/N),” he says, turning away. Dazedly, you brush your fingertips over where he kissed you. Maybe it’s a European thing, you think, given his accent. Whatever, you’re not complaining. You grin anyways and watch as he busies himself with the couch, tips of his ears bright red.

“Good night, Alex.”

*****

The smell of food wakes you up in the morning, soft light streaming in through the gap in your curtains. You pull on a sweatshirt and let your hair out of its braid, loose waves tumbling down your shoulders. Yawning, you pad out into the kitchen on socked feet.

Alex is standing over your stove, brow furrowed as he flips a slice of bacon. There's a plate of pancakes to his right, and the table is already set nicely for two. You lean your hip against the counter, watching him cook for a moment. His skin is golden in the morning light, cut of his muscles defined by the gentle shadows. His dark hair is even messier than it was last night, curling at the ends.

“You know, I'm pretty sure it's dangerous to fry bacon shirtless,” you say. Alex jumps, whirling around to face you. He huffs.

“Good, you’re awake. Bacon’s almost done,” he says. “And I’m a pro at this, thank you very much.” He waves his tongs at the pan. Grinning, you head to grab yourself a mug.

“Tea, coffee?” You ask.

“Tea would be great, thanks.” You let the easy domesticity of the morning wash over you as you busy yourself with the electric kettle, pulling out the honey and milk as it slowly begins to hum with boiling water.

The two of you exchange quiet small talk as breakfast finishes up, settling down to eat contentedly, across from each other. Biting into one of the fluffy pancakes, you let out an involuntary groan.

“Oh my god, never leave my apartment and make me pancakes forever,” you say. Of course he can cook well, sure,since flaws just aren’t a thing for him. You look up to see Alex blushing red and laughing.

“Well, if you insist.”

“I do. I insist. This is me, insisting you never leave.” You unashamedly get two more pancakes from the stack, dousing them in syrup.

The breakfast passes in easy conversation until Alex glances at the clock and makes a face.

“Time to go?” you ask.

“Yeah. Practice today,” he says, leaning over to pick up your dishes and taking both plates to the sink.

“Oh, leave that. It’s alright, I can get it! You cooked, I’ll clean,” you protest, shooing him away.

‘If you’re sure…” he pauses when his phone buzzes on the counter top.

“Got a spare key, finally,” he says, tapping away at the screen. “He’s headed up with it, so I guess I’d better go.” You smile through the disappointment sinking in your stomach. You really liked spending time with him and irrationally don’t want it to end. “Thank you again for letting my stay here,” he says, earnestly looking over at you.

“You’re welcome.” Alex opens his mouth to say something and stops, exhaling slowly. He shakes his head a little and turns towards the door. “Bye, Alex. It was really nice meeting you,” you add as he looks back.

“It was nice meeting you, too,” he says. “I’ll see you around?” You smile, a little sadly. You can already tell this one will be trouble for you. He’s probably got a lovely girlfriend and absolutely no interest in you.

“Definitely.”

The door closes behind him with a soft snick and you sigh, leaning against the wall. You start to turn back to the kitchen, ready to start on some dishes, when someone knocks on your door. Furrowing your brows, you open it to see Alex on the other side, face set in determination.

“Did you forget some-” you start to ask.

“Go on a date with me,” he blurts, blue eyes scanning your face anxiously. “Please,” he adds, belatedly. His whole body seems to relax when you smile and cock a hip.

“Will you promise to make me breakfast afterwards?” The grin drops from your face as you realize what you’ve implied. “Oh my god, wait, no, I didn’t mean to assume, oh wow that was forward, we can go slow, I’m so sorry—” Alex shuts up your babbling by sinking one hand into the hair at the base of your neck and letting the other curve over your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone as he kisses you soundly, lips a soft contrast to the gentle scratch of his beard. Your own hands fly to his chest, where you can feel the steady pounding of his heart. He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours. His eyelashes tickle where they brush against your skin.

“I’ll make you as many breakfasts as you want,” he says quietly into the scant inches between you. You’re trying to form a coherent response, but that kiss still has you reeling.

“Good plan,” you manage eventually. “I like that plan.” Alex laughs and you can’t help but to reel him in again.

The kiss feels like a promise.

author’s note: hey! new hockey imagines blog, here. hope you liked this chucky imagine! feel free to send in prompts, critiques, requests, encouragement, questions, cookies, marriage proposals, nuclear codes, etc.