#anthony beauvillier x reader
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til’ forever falls apart | anthony beauvillier
summary: anthony gets traded to vancouver and everything seems to implode for you. but at the end of the day, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.
warnings: language, a little bit of smut, angst, pregnancy, morning sickness, abortion, happy ending. oh! and lots of platonic barzal fluff!
a/n: i’ve had this idea for awhile and finally wrote it out! I hope y’all enjoy!
xoxo
nina
The trade had come to a shock to Anthony, meaning you were beside yourself when it was announced your boyfriend would be moving to Vancouver.
You’d gotten the ESPN notification minutes before there was a knock at your door. You opened it in a daze, finally snapping back to reality when you met Tito’s wide blue eyes.
“I- I didn’t know baby,” he stutters out as he steps forward. “Merde. I didn’t know.”
You move forward quickly, wrapping your arms around Tito as you pull him into your apartment. He’s not crying but his shoulders are shaking as he struggles to take even breaths.
“Baby, you have to breathe,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against Anthony’s. “Mon amour, look at me.”
When you meet Tito’s gaze his eyes are filled with sadness, a look that doesn’t suit him. You bring your hands up to stroke his cheek, sighing as he leans into your hand.
“Ma chérie… please,” Anthony’s lips are on yours in a slow, sensual kiss, his hands roaming up your hips to grasp at your hair. “Make me feel better… s'il vous plaît.”
And you do, you love Anthony the best way you can. Your bodies tangle together as you make your way into your bedroom. Slowly with gentle brushes and delicate fingers you remove his clothes, taking your time to praise him and give him the comfort he’s craving.
When he’s stood before you in nothing but his black boxers Tito pulls you to him, locking your lips together as his hands roam your body. His voice is barely a whisper as he tells you how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. And as he slowly undresses you, you forget for a moment that he’s going to be leaving you soon.
When you’re laying below Anthony his movements are slow and loving as he moves above you. His pace is unhurried as he makes love to you, his lips floating between your lips and your neck as he holds you close.
“Bébé, putain, je ne peux pas te quitter,” Anthony’s voice is trembling as he looks into your eyes, his hands bracketing your face as he whispers to you. “Je ne veux pas te quitter. Je t'aime tellement.” (Baby, fuck, I can't leave you. I dont want to leave you. I love you so much.)
“Je t'aime, Beau. Always,” you whisper as you meet his eyes. His pace increases after that, drawing out long moans as his hips piston towards yours, both of you chasing release. “Anthony… baby…”
“Come with me, Bébé,” Tito moans as his hips stutter, moving faster as he holds you close. “S'il vous plaît… Fuck… Please.”
You both fall apart in a mess of tangled limbs and moans, your lips connecting with Tito’s as you both ride out your high.
Laying on his chest after you’d both finished, you look up at Anthony with sad eyes, “I’m not breaking up with you so don’t even fucking think about it.”
The deep laugh that tumbles from Tito’s chest makes you smile as you lean up to kiss him, “Never, mon amour.”
+
You and Mat take Beau to the airport two days after the trade deal is finalized. The car ride is silent, Beau’s hand gripped firmly in yours as you navigate the craziness of airport traffic.
“Okay dude,” Mat sighs as Tito’s last bag is hauled onto the sidewalk. “If I keep talking I’ll cry and that won’t be good for anyone. But I love you dude and I’ll look after your girl.”
Anthony and Mat hug tightly, Mat pulling back and standing to the side as Tito looks at you. Your lip trembles and you throw yourself into his hold, arms wrapped tightly around him as he holds you close.
“I’ll see you soon, mon amour,” Tito whispers as he holds you, his hands caressing your hips as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”
“Je t'aime, Anthony,” you whisper as you kiss one last time. You pull back, watching as Tito grabs his bags. Mat’s arms are wrapped around your shoulder as you both wave to Anthony as he walks off.
Wordlessly, Mat climbs into the drivers seat of your SUV, making sure you’re settled in the passenger seat before pulling away from the curb and putting more and more distance between you and the man you love.
+
“You gotta get up, c’mon,” Mats voice is low and soft, comforting as he places his hand on your shoulder. “Do I need to call-“
“No,” you cut him off sharply, turning to look up at him. “I’m fine. Leave me alone Mat.”
“Okay but-“
Before Mat can continue a wave of nausea rolls through your stomach. You’re up and out of bed in a flash, barely making it to the toilet before you’re emptying the contents of your stomach into the bowl.
Anthony left two months ago and you’d been in agony since then. The last week however was different as you were plagued with constant nausea and fatigue. Mat was concerned about you, keeping good on his promise to Tito to look after you, but you knew what was wrong. You just refused to accept it.
“I’m going to call Tito,” Mat says firmly from his place in the doorway of the bathroom. “This isn’t okay.”
“No you can’t-“
“I sure as hell can,” Mat yells, meeting your eyes. “You’re running yourself into the ground!”
“I’m not-“
“Bullshit, this has gone-“
“I’m pregnant Mat.”
Mat freezes, his eyes wandering over your face for any sign that you’re playing a terrible joke on him. You only sigh and rest your head against the closed toilet seat.
“I took a test two days ago,” you whisper as you avoid Mat’s gaze. “I’m… I’m not keeping it.”
“But-“
“I��m going on Thursday,” you whisper as you look at your hands. “I can’t- Not while Beau is so far away. I can’t do it Mat.”
“You have options,” Mat whispers. “You can move out there. Or at the very least tell Tito. Please, you gotta-“
“I’ve made up my mind,” you meet Mat’s eyes with a serious look. “And you cannot tell Anthony.”
“But-“
“Mathew. I’m serious.”
Mat sighs and nods, walking forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“C-can you take me? To the clinic,” you look up at Mat and can almost visibly see his heart breaking. “Mat please…”
“You’ve got me,” Mat nods as he pulls you into a hug. “I’ll be there, I told Beau I’d be there for you.”
“Thank you Mat,” you whisper as he helps you up and settles you back into bed.
When you’re fast asleep Mat leaves your apartment, waiting until he’s on the sidewalk to make the call he knows he has to make.
“Tito… I need you to come to New York.”
+
Thursday rolls around and your stomach is churning with unease. You know you’re making the right decision but you’re still full of doubt as you put on leggings and one of Anthony’s sweatshirts.
Mat meets you downstairs and you drive in silence to the clinic, neither of you having anything productive to say.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” Mat whispers as he leans over and presses a kiss to your hair. “You got me, okay?”
You nod and step out of his car, walking slowly into the clinic. It doesn’t take long for your name to be called, the nurse leading you to an exam room. The setting is sterile and cold and you wish more than anything that Anthony was with you and this was a happy surprise instead of a nightmare.
“Well everything with your blood tests looks good,” the doctor announces as she sits in front of you. “I’m going to do a quick ultrasound to confirm everything and then we can go on with the procedure. You don’t have to watch the ultrasound, it’s completely up to you.”
You roll your shirt up and squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see what the ultrasound produces. But as the doctor rolls the wand over your stomach, you can’t help but crack an eye open and peer at the black and white screen.
There, barely the size of a jelly bean, is a little human. Half you and half Anthony. You gasp quickly and the doctor looks up at you with a sad smile.
“Would you like to hear the heartbeat? Or is that too much?”
You tell her yes and before you know it a booming sound echoes through the room. You stifle a gasp as your eyes squeeze shut, thinking of nothing but Tito and you and your baby.
“I- I can’t. I don’t want to get rid of my baby.”
The doctor walks you through next steps, how far along you are, and gives you information for what to do next. But you don’t hear any of it, instead thinking only of your boyfriend and how desperately you wish he was next to you.
You leave the clinic and find Mat waiting outside. As soon as you see him the tears start falling, your body wracked with sobs as he grabs onto your shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re alright,” Mat whispers as he holds you. “It’s okay. You made a choice for you and-“
“I didn’t do it, Mat,” you gasp out as you cling to Mat. “I couldn’t. I saw… I saw the baby and I couldn’t do it.”
Mat simply holds you as you cry, ushering you into his car a few minutes later and buckling you in. You don’t say anything as the two of you navigate through New York towards your apartment.
When Mat ushers you upstairs to your apartment you’re ready to simply collapse onto your bed and sleep for a few days. But when you unlock the door your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you.
“Anthony…”
“Mon amour,” Anthony smiles sadly as he sees the tears coating your cheeks. “What’s wrong, Bébé?”
You begin to cry again, Tito immediately crossing the room to hold you close. He looks to Mat, who simply shakes his head as he backs up and waves goodbye to his friend before shutting your front door.
Anthony leads you to your bedroom, sitting on the side of your bed as he holds you close. Your tears subside, red eyes looking up at your boyfriend with sad smile.
“Je suis désolé, mon amour,” you sniffle as you meet Tito’s gaze. “I’m so sorry.” (I’m sorry, my love)
“For what? What’s wrong,” Tito asks, hands cupping your face. “Bébé tell me. How can I help?”
You lean back and look up at Anthony, “I missed you.”
“I missed you, Bébé. So much,” Anthony kisses your forehead gently, pulling you closer. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong though.”
“I- We…,” you sniffle as you lock eyes with him. “Beau… We’re gonna have a baby.”
Tito’s lips simply curve up into a smile as he looks at you, “Really?”
You nod, pressing your face to his chest, “I went to the clinic to… But I couldn’t. I saw our baby and I couldn’t do it, Beau. I’m sorry. That I didn’t tell you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Bébé,” Anthony whispers as he holds you close. “It’s okay. I’m here now, I’m here with you. I’m not leaving you. Okay? I’m not fucking leaving you and our baby.”
You nod as Anthony holds you close, his fingers tracing slowly over your still flat stomach. He takes a deep breath before pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Will you come back to Vancouver with me?”
Tito’s voice is soft and questioning as he holds you, but immediately you know your answer.
“Of course.”
+
“Well hey there, Beauvilliers,” Mat’s smile is mile wide as he walks into the hospital room. “Who do we have here?”
Tito smiles and you can almost feel the excited energy radiating off of him as he hands off your newborn son to Mat, “Hud, meet your Uncle Mat. Mat…. Meet Hudson Mathew Beauvillier.”
Mat’s eyes widen as he looks down at the baby in his arms, “I- what?”
“He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” you whisper as Tito grabs your hand. “And you took care of me when Beau couldn’t. We owe our family to you Matty.”
Mat looks from the two of you to the baby in his hold. His eyes are brimming with tears as he sniffles and traces a finger across Hudson’s cheek, “Shit you guys… He looks so fucking cute. You guys make really cute babies.”
You smirk as you twist the wedding band and ring on your left hand, smiling up at Anthony. He’s already smirking down at you, leaning down to press his lips against yours.
“He’s pretty cute,” Anthony muses. “Figure we can make a whole hockey team if they’re all this adorable.”
“If you’re gonna carry them that can be arranged,” you grin as you snuggle into your husbands side.
part two here
#anthony beauvillier#anthony beauvillier fic#anthony beauvillier imagine#tito beauvillier#tito beauvillier fic#tito beauvillier imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagine#anthony beauvillier x reader#mat barzal#mat and tito#nhl imagine#nina writes
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Questions
Anthony Beauvillier x Reader
Warnings: None that I can think of, but let me know if there are any
Word count: {696}
You and Anthony were cuddled up on the couch under a blanket you had given him when you first started dating. The movie had become background noise as you soaked up every second possible, trying to ignore the thought of your flight being less than twenty-four hours away.
Your legs were tangled together, his hand was caressing your face, and as his arm tightened around your waist, a giggle escaped your lips "I don't think I can get any closer, babe."
The smile he gave you hurt you more than you'd ever admit because the sadness he didn't want to show was clear in your eyes. It wasn't his fault, he wasn't intentionally trying to hurt you, life just got in the way.
When he told you about the trade, you knew long distance was going to be hard, but you convinced yourself it would be like an extended roadie. A very extended roadie.
You were lucky with the somewhat matching schedules, visiting each other was easy, but they didn't make living without the love of your life easier.
He never asked you to make the move, he wanted to, but he couldn't ask that from you, to leave everything you built, over the years, behind. Little did he know you'd drop everything in a heartbeat because he was worth it.
You weren't upset when he didn't ask you because you knew he had his motives, he always did so long distance it was.
At first, you managed, but it was slowly breaking you and you tried hiding it, but he knew. Of course, he knew.
"I wanted to talk to you about something." he whispered. It made your heart skip a beat and as he felt your body stiffen under his arms, he was quick to reassure you "It's not what you think, promise."
He felt you relax a bit and pressed a kiss to your lips to seal the promise like he always did. "The past days with you have got me thinking. I love you, you know that, but this isn't working, mon ange. It's breaking you apart." you opened your mouth to reply, but he shook his head, cutting you off "Don't try and deny it, I see those sad smiles you think you are hiding."
A bashful smile overtook your face as you hid in the crook of his neck "I don't know what you're talking about. And I hate to break it to you, but it sounds exactly like I was thinking."
"Can you look at me, please?" You shook your head, not wanting to face what was coming next and the kiss he placed on the top of your head did little to reassure you. "Look at me, chéri." he pleaded.
You lifted your head and looked into his eyes for what you hoped wasn't the last time "If you're going to break up with me, at least don't do it while we're cuddled up on your couch." Your voice had a sad tone to it and he hated it, but he couldn't stop the loving smile from spreading across his face, and unknowingly to him, it made your blood simmer a bit.
"Could you be happy here? with me?" he asked in between a chuckle, ripping the bandaid off, and he was glad he got good at hiding his nerves because otherwise, he'd be shaking, but your reaction was worth it. Your jaw was slacked as your eyes were trying to figure out if he was either joking or lying. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you started stammering in a breathy voice, trying to put a sentence together and failing.
Anthony placed both his hands on your cheeks, trying to hold back laughter "Chéri, breathe, gather your thoughts, and then tell me what's on your mind."
Doing as you were told, you slapped his chest lightly "Why didn't you just ask that from the beginning?!" your voice slightly raised towards the end of the sentence and Tito couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.
"I had to work up the nerve. It's not every day where I ask a pretty girl to move in with me."
-------------------------------
Thanks for all the love on my other pieces, it means a lot🤗
I don't like the title so suggestions are very welcome!
It's been awhile, but I'll always miss Beau on the Islanders.
Excuse any mistakes, I wrote this while I was watching the Isles game.
Feedback is appreciated, hope you enjoy!
#anthony beauvillier#Anthony Beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier x reader#Vancouver Canucks imagine#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#frankie writes...
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CAPTAIN O CAPTAIN | AB72
anthony beauvillier x fem! hughes! reader
masterlist | a/n OMG QUINNIFER CAPTAIN?! just know that i did scream in my science class when i saw also reader is jacks twin && might make this au but idk yet🫶🏼
y/n.hughes has posted !
liked _quinnhughes, jackhughes, and others
y/n.hughes omg i don't even know where to begin🥹
my (ONLY) brother (i don't claim the other 2) is CAPTAIN of the vancouver canucks! omg huggy bear...if anyone deserves this, it's you. you've always been my #1 supporter and always helped me feel like i wasn't just the hughes' family only daughter or jacks/quinns/lukes sister. you truly deserve this title.
(give beau my number pls🤞🏼)
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_quinnhughes aww little sista got me tearing up🥹
↳ y/n.hughes love you, big brotha💓
↳ _quinnhughes i'm not going you beau's number
↳ y/n.hughes BROTHER FOR SALE!
lhughes_06 CAPTAIN HUGGY BEAR REPORTING FOR DUTY!!!!!!
dylanduke25 captain material👔
trevorzegras captain quinnifer huggy bear hughes🗣️
↳ _quinnhughes i hate you
fanacc1 her wanting beau's number is such a mood tbh😭😭
↳ fanacc2 no it's not...it's giving whore
↳ fanacc1 huh? how?😭
↳ fanacc2 using her brother to get guys for their money🤦🏻♀️
↳ y/n.hughes BRUH WHAT?!🗣️🗣️🗣️
barzal97 i'll give you tito's number
↳ y/n.hughes i'm looking for a new brother...would you care for a contract?
↳ _quinnhughes stop ✋
edwards.73 quinnjamin🦅
titobeauvi91 check your dms
↳ y/n.hughes OH EM GOD
↳ _quinnhughes 🤦🏻♀️
canucks captain o' captain 🧢
bohorvart congrats quinn🎉🍾
#anthony beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier#x reader#jack hughes#luke hughes#trevor zegras#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#vancover canucks#ig edit
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sid to a furry friend's rescue!
florist!reader gets flustered during sid's calendar shoot
parents mentors for the day
chief crosby's got a date... and its not with florist!reader
... was in a bit of a silly goofy mood, forgive me (and be sure to read the endnotes!)
gif from @littlemessyjessi
This is the last thing Sidney Crosby imagined he'd come home to: another man settled in his chair.
His cat is curled in the intruder's lap, and said intruder's hand is curled over your knee. And Sidney's soup—homemade and hand-delivered—split in bowls between you.
"Thought you didn't need a babysitter?"
Sidney watches the gleeful expression wilt on your pretty face—color drained like his bank account succeeding the egregious bid he matched to make bail—with equal measures of self-satisfaction and self-contempt.
"I-I didn't, I just—"
"Settle down, Chief," the ranger laughs. "I knew our little lady here was feeling under the weather, so I thought I'd stop by after my patrol shift and keep her company while you were indisposed."
Sidney glares into the bright cerulean eyes of one Anthony Beauvillier, a park ranger in the Atlantic Coast Uplands region.
If memory serves, he was recently transferred from Waverley to Blue Mountain but resides in Peggy's Cove. This is a 50-minute detour.
In the opposite direction.
The Fire Chief's jaw is painfully tight, his blood scalding. If it were't for his, albeit dwindling, sense of self preservation, Sidney would've marched up those two steps—recently refurbished at his hand, might he add—to forcefully remove the park narc's grubby paw from your body.
Mercifully—for all involved parties, you do so shortly and of your own volition before joining Sid in your driveway.
Guilt smeared over your sickly features, your mouth parts, an explanation hot on your tongue, but all that comes is a grizzly cough that stings Sid's chest just hearing it. Despite his vexation, he's patient with you; he owes it to you both to wait it out. He hopes this is just one big misunderstanding somehow.
But, before you're able, the absolute last person Sidney wants to hear from pipes up.
"Resting, ma biche. You're meant to be resting," Tito attempts to coax you back onto the porch—back to his side—with an outstretched, up-turned hand.
(my doe / my darling — reminder: see end for important notes!)
Not as quick with his French as he'd like to be, he growls at the perceived insult. However, rather than running his fist through the opposition's teeth in your honor, Sidney defiles it.
The park ranger, and everyone else who happens to be out and about tonight, are treated to an unexpected eyeful of their Fire Chief's innermost feelings rushing to the surface. They pour into your mouth with reckless abandon, unconcerned with his public image or the utter lack of privacy; this kiss could be broadcast on the Nightly News for all he cares.
All that matters to Sidney Crosby is making his intentions known, and crystal fucking clear. Staking his claim is just a bonus.
"Well, it looks like my work here is done."
At your dazed expression and Sid's bewilderment, Tito stands from the rocking chair with a genuine smile fixed on his face. As he deposits evergreen Stetson atop his wind-swept hair, he pauses.
"Y'all have a nice night," he winks with a tip of the brim, bidding you farewell before slipping into his government-issued Ram.
As gravel crunches under the vehicle's wheels, gears click into place behind Sidney's burnt umber eyes, now gleaming with clarity.
"Nate and Emmy." — Statement, not a question.
"Please, don't be angry. They just wanted to help because... because I didn't believe that... y'know." You gesture to the sliver of space that still separates you, a bashful little smile pushing up your feverish cheeks.
He couldn't find it in himself to be ticked off about your best friends' not-so-harebrained scheme—which, honestly, deserved more credit than he would ever be willing to give it—if he wanted to. Not while standing so close he can smell the PEI tulips you've been elbow-deep in all month, and definitely not having tasted the whisper of herbal tea lingering on your tongue.
Smirking, he closes the gap with a gentle tug.
"Oh, I know." Voice dropping to a thick hush, his lips hovering a lick above your skin, "D'you believe it now?"
The pinkish skin crinkles around his warm eyes as you pretend to think.
"I could do with a little more... convincing," you ultimately quip. "But, only if you're up for the t—"
The remainder of your cajoling is overtaken by a fit of giggles as he corrals you up and across the porch. The front door slams shut with a satisfying air of finality. Though, not before little Ember slips in with you.
Chief Crosby was thorough by nature, and he'd be damned if he didn't dedicate the evening to dispelling any and all doubts threatening to take root. Feigned, or not.
—
gotcha! teehee 😋 sid really said sick germs?? no match for my LOVE!!! ALSO! tito anon, this ones for you bbyyyyy 💓💓💓💓
***** 'ma biche' was chosen because its typically humorous and rarely intended seriously, + can be considered majorly outdated (even by 60s sitcom standards)—and its not always romantic! ... it also sounds a lot like an english insult, hence sid's reaction lol (at least, according to my french-canadian grandmother who remains very confused by my random call for a french lesson on infrequently used terms of endearment lol) *****
as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!
#in conversation: kindled#kindled!sidney#kindled verse#kindled#sidney crosby imagine#sidney crosby fanfiction#sidney crosby fic#sc87#firefighter!sid x florist!reader#firefighter!sidney crosby#firefighter!sid#florist!reader#sidney crosby au#sidney crosby blurb#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#hockey x reader#nhl x reader#nhl blurb#hockey blurb#nhl imagines#*ೃ༄ by holy pucks#nhl fic#hockey romance#hockey fic#pittsburgh penguins#anthony beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier#tito beauvillier x reader#tito beauvillier
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Under You
Prompt : " You smell so Good" Character B whispers as they continue to litter kisses down Character A's jaw and neck, revealing in the noises Character A lets involuntary slip out of their mouth
from @dumplingsjinsonfrom this prompt list
warning: slightly suggestive
Beau had been gone for about a week and half on an extended roadie and he had been texting you nonstop, so you knew he missed you but you missed him just as much. He texted you earlier that day saying he found an earlier flight so he would be home later tonight .
You decided to order his favorite food and put it in the refrigerator for him when he gets home . You also decide to clean around the house a little even though it wasn't really dirty just a little dusty . After you are done cleaning the house you decide to chill for the rest of the day. Just relaxing and watching shows on the couch to past the time until Beau comes home.
You wake up when you feel yourself being lifted off from the couch , at first you started freaking out but the musky scent of Beaus cologne settled you back down. " hi" he said with a smirk on his face "Hi" you responded with a sleepy smile on your face that shows the amount of love for the man who's carrying you to your shared bedroom.
" how was your flight" , " it was good , would've been better with you though" he responded as he played you down in your spot on the bed. It was then you realized he was already dressed for bed . " how long have you been home" you asked him " about two hours I thought id let you sleep while I got undressed and ready for bed " he says as he starts to hover over you with a cocky smirk.
" oh yea" you say to him flirty , "yea" he says as he closes the gap between you two as he kisses you passionately. As you are laying down under him you get a surge of confidence and flip you both over so you are on top of Beau. You don't know how you were able to successfully flip over a tall and muscly hockey player , you are pretty sure its because of him being tired but were gonna credit your amazing core strength lol.
"wow " Beau says as he looks at you from under you . You then start kissing his jaw and down his neck letting him know exactly how much you missed him. " You smell so good " you whisper as you take a quick break from attacking his neck and jaw, but resuming almost immediately. As you are really enjoying the noises Beau is making as you mark him up.
" I love you so much " he says as he grips your hips tightly " I love you more My Beau" you say " but I can definitely feel how much you are enjoying this " You tease as you look down between you two and look back at him smirking. " oh yea " he says " yea" you responded . As you said that Beau flipped you both over so you were now back under him and he whispers " let me show just just how much" and you knew you were in for a long , enjoyable night with the man you are sure you're going to marry .
a/n : Ahh hi this is my third fic and its pretty short and I don't know how I feel about it but had to give my man Beau some love also imagine this as he's still with the Canucks BECAUSE I REFUSE TO ACCEPT HES WITH * THAT* TEAM
im tagging my favorite people on this app that have AMAZING fics and AUs so go show them some love feedback is appreciated but don't feel like you have to ok BYEEEEE
@letsgetrowdy43 @kniesylenny @yankstrash @hischierhaze @heavenlyhischier @sweetestdesire @thatintrovertedwriter @starry-hughes @drewsbuzzcut @bedsyandco @norrisjosh @theywantedplayer @bitchinbarzal @ladylooch @babydollmarauders @nicohischierz @sunkissed-zegras @uluvjay @ilyasorokinn @hischierdevils @hischiershoney @jackhues @swissboyhisch @perfectlysaltycat32
#nhl#chicago blackhawks#I WANT YOU TO KNOW I HATE THAT IM TAGGING THAT TEAM#anthony beauvillier#anthony beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier blurb#Anthony beauvillier imagine#Anthony beauvillier imagines#anthony beauvillier fic#hockey blurb#hockey fic#hockey writing#autumns writing 💭
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧
word count: 1.8k
warnings: almost entirely plot and no dialogue, more of a prologue than anything, mentions of a hookup, tito is a wee bit of an asshole but not in an actual mean way, awfully translated french (please tell me if it's wrong), unedited
note: this is going to be part of an interactive au and a mini series in one so feel free to send me any ideas, thoughts, questions you have about anything!
series masterlist
The first time you met Tito, you were only fifteen and still very much in the awkward phases of your younger years. You wore clothes you thought were trendy, but made you cringe whenever you would look back on them. You had your hair in a ‘sock bun’ more often than not. Your arms and neck were decorated with chunky and bright colored jewelry. The only good thing about that time was you hadn’t gotten into makeup yet, so the most embarrassing thing about your face were the braces that decorated your teeth. Combine all of that with being stood in front of your older brother's attractive friend, and it the thought made your skin crawl just thinking about it.
You didn’t even talk to him after Mat had introduced him to you, too shy to approach the boy that gave you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his broken English made you blush like no one had before. It didn’t take a genius to see that you had developed a crush on the older boy, but you hoped that Mat hadn’t developed any sort of observational skills while he was at camp and he was just as oblivious as he always was. You knew he wouldn’t have approved.
You didn’t see Tito again until the next year after both he and Mat managed to somehow be drafted to the same team. It was as if fate was speaking to everyone, telling the world that Anthony Beauvillier and Mathew Barzal were meant to be friends. When you saw him later that night, you waited for him to approach you because the small crush you had formed for him last year never died down like you thought it would. If anything, it increased tenfold. He saw you standing off to the side as you searched through the drinks in the cooler and that was when he excused himself from the group he was previously talking with.
“I think your brother took the last Coke,” He said from behind you, catching your attention as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Of course he did,” You rolled your eyes as you turned to face Tito, doing your best to keep your outward appearance calm while your insides flipped, “Congratulations. Hopefully your new team is prepared for the both of you or they’re in for a shock.”
His lips turned upwards into a smile, his blue eyes sparkling as he speaks, “Thank you. It’s pretty crazy we’re going to the same team.”
The air that encased you made your skin crawl, your nerves spiked as his eyes stayed focused on your face and he looked down at you. You hoped he didn’t notice the way you swallowed the lump in your throat, or the way your entire face was a deeper shade of pink than it was before. Luckily, the sound of your sister calling your name provided you with the exit you needed before you embarrassed yourself. You bid him a goodbye before turning on your heels to walk towards your family.
“Oh,” You paused, looking over your shoulder with a mischievous smile, “Ton anglais s'est amélioré.” (Your English has gotten better.)
Tito couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement as he says, “Ton français n'a pas.” (Your french hasn’t.)
After that, you would really only see him when you were watching the Isles play. The two of you would make small talk in passing, but it never went beyond that. You were his best friend's sister, and you were off limits. You knew that the likeliness of Tito ever developing any sort of feelings for you was slim to none, but there were subtle comments and looks that left your brain hazy and hopeful. You had accepted that it was only ever going to be simple fun for the both of you, but then the Isles went to the playoffs.
You and your family went to every single playoff game that you could to support the team. The atmosphere was electric, everyone’s emotions amplified times ten, and that included the way Tito felt for you. It was getting increasingly harder for him to keep up the charade of you being just Mat’s sister the more he saw you. Each time he saw your entire face light up in excitement after the games, or when you would always go out of your way to check on him after a loss, the more he just wanted to pull you into his chest and kiss you until neither of you could breathe.
He was doing his best to keep his composure and respect his friendship with Mat, but then you knocked on his hotel room door to check on him after they were kicked out of the playoffs. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you then, after you told him how proud of him you were, and when you told him he didn’t have to stop, there was nothing that could keep him from having you the way he had thought about for years now. You thought that night was going to change everything, but when you woke up the next morning and he told you that it couldn’t happen again, you had never felt so used and heartbroken.
A small part of you wasn’t all that surprised because Anthony Beauviller was, after all, a professional hockey player. They had a reputation for a reason and that was the very reason Mat had tried to keep you away from them since he started playing hockey. He knew the likelihood of you getting hurt was greater than not, and he wanted to keep you safe. But of course, you didn’t listen.
Your relationship with Tito changed after that, and not in the way you had ever hoped it would. Every interaction you had with him after that night was awkward and sticky. It made your stomach turn, but not in the way it used to. You found yourself going out of your way to avoid him rather than seeking him out like you had always done before. It was for the best, you told yourself. He had made his feelings crystal clear, and you wanted to put as much distance between the two of you as you could. You wanted to move on.
Tito knew it was his fault that you stopped talking to him. He remembers the way your face twisted in pure heartbreak when he looked at you that morning and told you that you couldn’t tell anyone because it shouldn’t have ever happened to begin with. It was the face that haunted him in his sleep. He thought about reaching out to you almost everyday, but he never followed through. It was for the best, he told himself, you deserved far better than he could ever give you.
When you found out that Tito had been traded to the Canucks, you knew neither him nor Mat were okay. They had been friends for years, nearly attached at the hip, and now he was being forced to move quite literally across the continent with no warning. You had called Mat the second you found out, and you could tell he was upset almost the moment you heard his voice. He tried to convince you that he was okay, that he understood it was just a part of the job, but you knew better.
You put your feelings aside that night and texted Tito as well, asking him if he was okay and telling him that he was bound to be great no matter where he played. You didn't expect a text back the same night, but then a few days went by and the message still went unanswered. You tried not to dwell on the situation too much, instead throwing all of your focus into moving into your new place in a city you’d never been too, but like always, he was always at the back of your mind.
When he got traded to Chicago in the beginning of the current season, it was Mat who called you to complain about it. He was droning on and on about how he doesn’t understand why they don’t see just how good his best friend is. He kept saying how if he had anything to do with it, Tito would be back with the Isles and he wouldn’t go unless Mat did. You tried to listen, but he didn’t really let you talk anyways. Though you’re not sure you would’ve been a great conversationalist as all you could think about was how Tito must feel.
You had just gotten out of the shower after a pretty hectic twelve hour shift when you heard your phone vibrating on the table. It wasn’t late enough in the evening for you to be worried about getting a phone call, but the way your stomach slightly dropped made you nervous. When you picked the device up and saw Mat’s picture staring back at you, you felt yourself relax as you slid your finger across the screen.
“What’s up,” You greeted, walking into your kitchen.
“Just checking on my favorite sister,” He chuckles.
“Oh dear,” You roll your eyes, placing the drink you had grabbed onto the counter, “What do you want?”
You heard his over dramatic gasp echo through the speaker and you know he’s clutching his chest as he says, “I’m offended you think I have to want something to say that.”
“Mathew,” Your voice goes flat as you raise your brows despite him not seeing you.
“Fine, fine. You’re right,” He gives in, and you can hear some shuffling around before he continues, “So, you live in Nashville, right?”
“Did my geography lesson not stick?”
“Ha ha, so funny, but anyways. Hear me out, okay? So, Tito got traded to the Preds and he’s supposed to be there tomorrow and he doesn’t really have a place to stay, so,” His voice trails off.
You go through two different emotions in the span of ten seconds. First, your heart cracks at Tito being traded for the second time in a season. You know that he has to be feeling defeated, let down in himself. Second, panic bubbles in your chest as your eyes dart over to the door of the empty second bedroom in your apartment. Certainly Mat wouldn’t have done exactly what you’re thinking he did.
“You didn’t,” You breathed out, your eyes wide and heart beating against your ribs.
“I might have.”
#anthony beauvillier#tito beauvillier#anthony beauvillier imagine#tito beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier x reader#tito beauvillier x reader#nhl imagine#hockey imagine
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drunken words
April 28, 2019
The NTDP team had just played their last game of their season in Sweden winning 5-2 against Canda and they decided to celebrate together. They knew you can drink at 18 in Sweden so a few of the teammates went and got alcohol and brought to the hotel room they were all in.
Maddox was leaning against the wall sitting on the floor as most of the team was all crowded in the small hotel room sitting and laying anywhere there was space.
Trevor smiled slight happy to see there is space next to Maddox and sat down next to him and put his head on Maddox’s lap, contenting falling asleep in Maddox’s lap.
Cam York smirked seeing Trevor fast asleep on Maddox’s lap, “Looks like Z is still making his moves on Teddy.”
Jack chuckled drinking his beer, “So?” He leaned his head back on the bed, not seeing the point as Trevor flirts with everyone, it was just Trevor being Trevor.
“How long you think until Teddy lets Z do something more?” Matt Boldy pipped in wondering when Maddox and Trevor would just make out already.
“Please Maddi would never, he isn’t gay. Hughes aren’t like that and Maddi would never be with a guy, especially not Z.” Jack drunkenly laughed no one seeing Maddox’s face flash with pain before clearing his face of any emotion and looking away from Jack and their drunk teammates.
Alex frowned looking at his best friend having a feeling that hurt Maddox a lot more than Jack knew.
Maddox who had only just recently accepted his sexuality and had planned to come out to his family when he got home knew he could never come out now, not if that is what Jack thinks, who knows what his family thinks. Maddox scooted over gently letting Trevor’s head lean on to the floor and not his lap anymore.
Maddox clenched his fist and took deep breaths to keep himself calm.
#maddox hughes au#mh22#trevor zegras#jack hughes x reader#nhl x reader#jack hughes#luke hughes#quinn hughes x reader#jh86#quinn hughes#luke hughes x reader#alex vlasic#chicago blackhawks#cole caufield#connor bedard x reader#connor bedard#nick foligno#anthony beauvillier x reader
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Begin Again -
[Anthony Beauvillier]
A/N: First off, thank you for requesting someone new! It always pushes me as a writer and I love how detailed this request is! It helped guide me to this achey, beautiful love story below. Second, thank you to the answers and DMs I received to help me learn more about Tito! It helped me get a clear vision of him as a character. Could not have done this with out you! Third, this has been a long time coming! Thank you for your patience. I hope you love it!
Word Count: 2.7k
A white hot heat has settled into the crook of your elbow as you stand behind your soon to be sister-in-law. Your brother is tearfully saying his vows to her. You should be crying. You should be focused on the words he is promising to help him uphold in times of trouble.
Instead, the leftover touch of Anthony Beauvillier haunts you.
How could you both have thought you could pretend to still be in love? Well, you weren’t pretending. But he was. The leaver. The “we need to talk” from three weeks ago. Those weren’t your words. The were his. And just like his touch, they haunt. In the middle of the night. When you’re on your way to work. When you picked him up from the airport and both agreed you would pretend to still be together. You both wanted your brother to be happy. Anthony is his childhood best friend and he’d kill Tito if he knew what had happened in New York three weeks ago.
But what did happen? You were barely sure yourself.
All you knew is being with Anthony used to be so easy. Then it became unstable and lit on fire. Then it was at your feet in ruins before you could even grab the extinguisher to try to save it. Personally, you want to blame Lou Lamoriello. Isn’t it his fault for trading your ex boyfriend? Because everything was difficult after Anthony was traded.
And when the season ended, those difficulties followed you around. What were you supposed to do? He didn’t seem to want you with him in Vancouver. Even when you visited, he was distant and distracted. This man that you once knew like your favorite shirt because a stranger.
He pulled the plug. He asked for space. You gave it to him. He went back home. You stayed in New York in the apartment he had until September.
“You can stay as long as you need.” He had told you, not looking at your face because he couldn’t stand the tears glistening down your cheeks in the afternoon sun.
“I don’t want to stay here.” You had bubbled through those tears. He nods.
“Until you get back from home then.” He gives a curt nod, licking his lips. “I’m here for a couple more days to tie up some things.” Like us? You can’t help but cry harder. “Mat said I could stay with him.” Your heart breaks all over again. Mat Barzal already knew? God, that makes it so real.
“You deserve so much better.” His heartbreaking whisper were the last words before he shut the door to leave.
But you didn’t want better. You wanted him.
Now here he was, standing across the other side of the aisle while your brother kissed his new bride. You come too, pulling your gaze away from Anthony to focus back on the love. You cheer with the rest of the crowd, then hand your new sister-in-law her gorgeous bouquet of white roses. Your smile is fake, you can feel it in the tight pinching of your cheeks. But it passes well enough.
You haven’t even recovered from his touch when you first walked down the aisle together, now his haunting is coming for your other arm. You smile, like you’re so sickeningly in love with each other. Anthony smiles back too. Only you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then you turn back towards the aisle where the photographer is taking pictures.
You pray the tears in your eyes pass as happy as you walk by your parents.
- - -
Without alcohol, this night would have gone to shit immediately after the ceremony. Your new sister-in-law greeted you with her first words being “You and Tito are next!” You swayed in her arms at the painful reality of how untrue that is going to be. Anthony heard it too and he reached out to you for a moment, squeezing your hand in acknowledgement. You had ripped your hand away, unable to stand his comfort when he was the one who did this to you.
But then your good friend vodka found it’s way into your cup. And you forgot. Anthony found beer. And the alcohol took the painful edge off everything. You started talking. You laughed together. You told embarrassing stories of your brother together. It felt like normal and you chased that buzz with drink after drink until you found yourself in the bathroom, looking at your drunk reflection.
What are you doing, you wonder to yourself.
You watch your teeth tuck your bottom lip into your mouth. You swallow shakily, reaching for your glass and downing the rest of your drink too.
This is going to hurt you in the morning. Are your inner thoughts about the alcohol or him?
Either way, you brush those thoughts to the side. It feels so good to pretend, to step out of the crunching heartache even if it is only for a few hours. You get to live in this other world, the one you wish you still had, where it makes sense when he brushes his fingers along your shoulder with his hand draped across the back of your chair. You shiver now in the cool bathroom, like he’s right there with you still, touching you, soothing your broken heart temporarily.
Your heels clack against the tile as you leave the bathroom, coming face to face with Anthony. You pull in a deep breath that raises your shoulders. He smiles gently, then glances over his shoulder to see if anyone is around. You’re alone.
“Are you doing okay?” His face is sincere, concerned. You refuse to believe it is pity.
“Yeah. Great!” You respond brightly.
“Okay. Um, they are insisting on playing our song.” You freeze. “I tried to play it off, but your brother is not listening. They literally have the DJ ready for the second we walk in.” If you never heard "My Best Friend” by Tim McGraw ever again, it would be too soon. You’re not sure you can do this. “I’m so sorry. This was dumb.” He whispers, seeing the way your face shatters at the mere thought of dancing with him to this song with what you are now. The song you always knew would be your first dance song.
“Yeah, but we are committed.”
“Maybe we should just tell them. Stop the whole thing…” The last thing you want to do is have the stabbing pain of heartbreak return. So your drunken self pushes you right along to just go with it a little longer.
“No, let’s tell them tomorrow. Like we planned.” He nods, looking over his shoulder at the large event space that seemingly awaits for us. “What do you want to do?”
“Dance with you one more time.” You respond quietly. Your fingers meet his, lacing together in the way you always appreciated- with perfect weight and grip. Anthony stares back at you, his gorgeous blue eyes drinking in your beautiful face. You think, for a moment, that he might lean in towards your face. His free fingers come to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. Then he cups your cheek for a moment before leading you into the room.
The gentle stroking of guitar strings greets you both immediately. You smile to your family who is eagerly watching your approach.
“I hope y’all aren’t going to make us dance alone.” You tease easily. Anthony looks at you in awe as he leads you into his body to begin to sway back and forth.
“You’re so good at this.”
“Being an NHL girlfriend meant a lot of pretending.” He nods, knowing all the ways you’ve stood by his side the last few years, even if it was difficult for you with the spotlight.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“You were always worth it.” You murmur, tears in your eyes. Anthony sees them, frowning deeper. He tugs you into his body, encouraging your head to rest against his.
You feel every inch of his hand at the small of your back. Your eyes close as he uses it to pull you close. Then you both move together again like you have hundreds of times before. It’s almost like nothing is different. You lean your head into his, feeling the smoothness of his jaw against your temple. Your eyes closed as he sighs, turning his face into your hair. You can feel the inhale of him taking in your perfume. The one he picked out years ago on a shopping spree in New York. A lifetime ago now.
I fall in love all over every time I look at you
I don't know where I'd be without you here with me
Something about this song makes his touch different. It’s more consuming. His finger prints press deeper into the exposed skin of your back. You breathe in the scent of him, wanting to memorize this memory no matter how much it will hurt later.
“Ant..” You murmur, feeling him shudder as he sucks in a deep breath. “Are you okay?”
“No. This all feels like a mistake.” He whispers back.
“I know. I miss you.” Your respond.
Life with you makes perfect sense, Tim McGraw sings as Anthony’s lips brush against your cheek.
“You look so beautiful tonight. Took my breath away when I saw you earlier.” His hand presses you tighter more. You turn your face towards his. He makes the move, brushing his lips against yours, testing your acceptance. Your face crumples as you place your hand on his cheek.
“Kiss me like this is it.” He doesn’t hesitate, bringing your faces together again. Every stroke of his lips cracks any repair that’s been done to your heart. But fuck, it feels so worth it to have this with him. His tongue strokes against your bottom lip, then nudges between your teeth, melding with yours.
“Baby.” He whispers, briefly pulling away for air.
It feels so easy right now. Drunk on vodka and champagne with a room saturated by how easy it is to be in love when both people try. All the struggles, the distance, the ache, the impermeable walls are non-existent. So is the reality that he is no longer yours.
Because he doesn’t kiss you like it’s the last time. He kisses you like this it’s all beginning again.
“I’m leaving for Vancouver tomorrow. Come with me? I don’t want this to be it. I don’t want to give up on us. I want to try again. Harder. The way you deserve.” His nose rests to the side of yours. His fingertips press into the back of your head, ruining the remaining, lopsided curls. You can still taste the beer from his mouth in yours.
“How about you tell me that tomorrow morning? When it isn’t like this…” He sighs, stepping back, looking rejected. “And I’ll get on that plane with you.” You drunkenly agree. He looks down at your face, buzzed off beer, with slightly blood shot eyes. He closes his eyes as the song fades out.
“Give it up for Y/N and Anthony!!! The next couple to get married!” The DJ bellows.
You and Anthony stare back at each other, unmoving and unable to pretend any more.
“You are right. When it isn’t like this… I will go.” He steps backwards. It feels familiar. You startle, feeling tears prick your eyes at his sudden retreat. The walls close in as he takes another step back.
“Ant.” You sound desperate, choking.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry for what I have done, mon amour. I’ll see you.” His fingers drop from yours as he turns.
You call out for him. But Anthony is already gone.
- - -
A knock on your hotel room door the next morning may as well be against your actual brain. You startle against the soft, white pillow case, looking down at the mascara residue left behind. Drunk you didn’t seem to care about taking all your make up off. Combine that with the tears you cried and the black, inky mess looks like a war zone. You rub at your face then slowly push the covers back. You assume it’s your mother coming to scold you for running off suddenly last night.
It’s not.
Outside, looking as delectable as ever, is Anthony. You stare at him through the peep hole, feeling frustrated and really hungover. He holds two iced coffees in his hand and a brown paper bag is pinched in the middle of his pinter and middle fingers. He raises his fist to knock again, but you open the door to stop him.
“Hi. You ready, beautiful?”
“Is that a joke?” You mumble, squinting against the light of the hallway.
“No, we gotta get going. You may want to shower though.” His eyes stay locked on yours. You reach up, coming away with black flakes from under your eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You hiss at him, despite your pounding head and thick, dry tongue.
“But you said-“
“Anthony.” You grumble. “My mouth feels like a cotton ball. My head hurts so fucking bad I wanna rip it off. And you walked out last night without any explanation! I don’t care what I said when I was drunk off my 11th vodka soda of the night. You left. Again!”
“Yeah, I left, so I could sober up and do this.” He gestures to him outside the room. Then he hands you a cup of coffee and a croissant. “You know the best croissants go early here. I was waiting outside at 6 am for this.” He points to the logo for The Patisserie, your favorite place in your hometown. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t want this to be it. I want you to come with me today. I’m so sorry about how things ended and what I did to us, babe. I love you so much. It was never about that. It just got so hard; I was so lost, felt like I had lost everything I knew. I didn’t know what to do. Then you were slipping away from me too.”
Oh, how true that felt to you now. How you tried to hold on to him tighter but felt him slipping through your fingers. You had seen how much he was struggling. You didn’t know what to do and you had some blame to share in the distance that was created.
“Where would we go today?” You murmur.
“Vancouver. To find our new place.” You stare at him, the hangover clouding your brain but none of the shock on your features. Move to Vancouver with him? “You said tell me that in the morning and I’ll go. So here I am, telling you in the morning. Will you go with me? I’m sorry it took me so long to ask, but I can’t live without you.”
If words can truly heal, those did it for you.
You’re not even thinking, which is why you drop the coffee and the pastry at your feet, staining the carpet in the process as the cold liquid leaks out from the plastic cup. Your arms are around his neck, crashing his face down to yours. The kiss is beautiful, full of love and greedy need and wandering hands as he grips your ass to lift you into his arms.
You still have more to discuss, like why he gave up when things got hard, the way it hurt when he did what he did, and how you’ll both double down on the commitment this time because you know how awful life is without each other.
But in the meantime, a plane is leaving for Vancouver from Montreal in two hours and you’re going to be on it with Anthony Beauvillier.
#Anthony beauvillier x reader#NHL imagine#hockey writing#my writing#vancouver canucks#nhl fan fiction
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communication skills
anthony beauvillier x f!reader; platonic!mat barzal x f!reader
warnings: swearing, throwing up, based slightly on 'hits different' by taylor swift, i wrote a good 80% of this drunk so i apologise for everything
word count: 8.7k
The water was warm – not too hot that it burned your skin, but warm enough to encourage you to stand in front of the mirror – refusing to look at your own reflection – and keep your hands held under the steady stream. There was something relaxing about it, watching it cascade off your skin, fragmenting the light.
It was a twisty tap, and after a long period of you washing off the feeling of his last words, desperate to scrub any and all traces of him off your skin, even despite the pathetic futility of such a feat – another hand reached out from behind you, twisting it off and handing you a small pile of paper towels.
Much like your own reflection, you refused to look at the man on your right, keeping your head down and eyes entirely focused on the task at hand. If you even so much as caught a pitying or equally heartbroken gleam in his face, you’d be done for; that unwanted well of emotion would shatter, and Mat would be left to pick up the pieces in a bathroom of a club you’d only been to once before.
The last thing you wanted to do was talk about it, but when you chucked the scrap towels in the bin, the frustration had gotten the better of you, and your words spewed out of your mouth seamlessly. Mat was leant against a wall, nodding along to almost everything you were saying, and you could tell from the grave expression on his face that he was just as affected by the matter, too.
How could he not?
He’d known Beau since they were kids, and because of the inhumane system surrounding transfers, they’d be separated from each other for the first time in years.
“And what are you gonna do about it?” He asked, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, a stern yet altogether curious look about him.
You froze, knitting your brows together in slight bewilderment, “What am I gonna do about him getting transferred?” You checked, puzzled as to his query.
There wasn’t much you could do about anything; transfers were legally bound contacts as far as you knew, and you wouldn’t be able to hammer even the slightest dent in that framework – not that you’d even thought about doing that anyway.
It wasn’t your career, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you weren’t going to mess with something set in stone. Still, that harsh truth didn’t exactly do anything to numb the stinging hurt prickling at your chest. Your throat tightened, and you pressed your lips together, trying to suppress the mounting build of sadness climbing up your throat.
You hated the helplessness of it all; you couldn’t control a single aspect of anything that had occurred within the last fifteen minutes and it petrified you. It sent goosebumps trailing down your skin, and a spike of adrenaline through your system.
“No,” Mat frowned, blinking at you, “What are you gonna do about Tito moving to Vancouver?”
You swallowed, trying to maintain the knot slowly building, “I don’t follow.”
You weren’t going to do anything. He was the one that had ended it. You were, however, going to go home and watch New Girl to cheer yourself up. Maybe call your parents; the time difference would mean they’d still be awake – and long term? Probably mope.
You weren’t sure you could quite stomach the thought of someone else at that moment – which was a shocker to you.
Moving on was always easy for you to do – it tended to be a benefit of never truly giving yourself to anyone. Yet, somehow, Anthony Beauvillier had worked his way under your defences and you’d given yourself to him in ways you never pictured yourself ever doing.
“I mean,” Mat rolled his eyes, “Are you going to let him break things off and jet across to the other side of North America?” He asked it like it was obvious, his shoulders shrugging as he watched you carefully.
He thought you were taking the entire situation rather well. You had since Anthony had panicked and dumped everything on you – how he’d literally just shouted in your ear ‘I’ve been traded to Vancouver and I’m leaving within the week’ – and how the only reaction you had was a poor ‘oh’ after you’d ingested his words. Other than that, you’d been in a sort of reverie, floating around the rest of the night, a haunted look on your face as you watched him leave.
He’d broken up with you, and Mat was almost certain that you didn’t know why.
Mat knew, of course he did. After Tito had told him, the first thing he’d worried about was you.
“I don’t want her to leave New York for me. She deserves better than that.”
And no matter how many times Mat had tried to persuade Tito that, no, you deserved each other wholeheartedly, Tito was insistent on the fact that the only way to solve that issue of his was to break up with you.
Obviously, he’d neglected to confide exactly why he’d broken up with you, to you.
And that left Mat in this current predicament: you in shock hiding in the bathroom, and Tito, no doubt, packing his suitcase and mourning your entire relationship.
Honestly, Mat was sick of you both. You were too blind to realise that you guys were made for each other – you were just too stubborn to connect the dots and allow yourselves to be happy – with each other.
Your reactions just seemed to lack emotion; it was as if someone had snuffed out your ability to feel – you looked subdued, an empty vacancy hidden behind your eyes.
And when he’d asked you if you were going to go with Anthony to Vancouver, you’d just stared, looking mildly unwell at the prospect.
“What else am I supposed to do?” You asked, placing a hand on your stomach as though to ease the rising sickness. Where had it come from? “He told me he was moving to Vancouver and that he didn’t want me to go with him. In fact, his exact words were ‘I don’t want you to come to Vancouver with me’ and ‘I want to break up’.”
Mat blanched, frustration fisting an angry hand in his chest, slowly pushing its way through his sternum.
He swore you two would be the death of him.
He didn’t say anything, but took your silence as an answer. You’d been throwing hopeful glances at the door, and he’d elected to ignore it in wanting to try to get you to see sense, but it seemed Tito had left that job even more difficult to follow through on with his harsh words.
Reluctant words. Words that Mat knew absolutely killed him to say to you.
He’d seen the way his friend had looked at you, and to know that he was moving to Vancouver – away from him and New York, a feat that he’d be doing alone – and leaving you behind was something that broke even Mat’s heart, and in that, he knew that it destroyed both yours and Tito’s.
If Mat hadn't known that Tito only broke up with you because he didn’t want you to drop everything for him, he would have assumed the guy was running from something.
In a sense, he was running away from you – but in doing so, he was running away from quite possibly the best thing he’d ever had in his life, and Mat wasn’t about to let either you or Tito make that mistake.
He didn’t voice any of that, however, just moved aside and let you through the door, making sure to keep a steady hand on your back in reassurance as you both made it out of the club, past the millions of couples devouring each other – who only served as a sour reminder of the night’s events – and outside.
It was chilly, and the frosty air nipped at your exposed skin.
You’d barely had time to string together a coherent thought before hands were tugging you in all directions; cold and clammy as you were pulled back and forth, concerned touches on your elbows, shoulders, and chin. You barely even registered exactly who you were looking at.
“Are you okay?”
“There’s a cute guy inside that’s been checking you out all night–”
“I can’t believe he just broke up with you.”
“Why isn’t she looking at us?”
Questions were fired left, right and centre, and you were numb to it all; their voices trickling in through one ear and flowing out of the other seamlessly. They sounded like they were underwater, and you felt Mat’s comforting hand on your back once more, gently guiding you away from your friends.
You heard him say something, it must have been something about getting you home because they all let out a chorus of disappointed ‘ohs’ and patted you sympathetically on your arm.
For some reason, hearing the truth of what actually happened barely half an hour ago seemed to set it into stone; it felt different keeping the breakup in the bathroom just between you and Mat – it felt more private somehow, like you could walk out of the room and pretend Anthony hadn’t left you in that club, heart shattered into oblivion and mind stuck on his words and the way he looked like he might break if you so much as even stepped towards him or touched him or whispered even a word of protest.
But you’d wandered outside in the hope of clearing your head, only to be bombarded and heralded and overwhelmed when you were busy trying to deal.
Why did he break up with you? You would have gone with him - you knew you would.
Did he get bored of you? He couldn’t have; he’d just told you he was wildly in love with you three weeks ago.
Had he met someone else? Was he in love with someone else?
And that was when you saw it; although they were further down the street, Mat pushing you into a walk as you both strolled down the sidewalk, you could just make it out in the hazy darkness.
They must have been illuminated by the light from the inside of the bar, because each time a door opened, their section of the sidewalk practically glowed, highlighting them.
You couldn’t see who the girl was, she seemed to be hidden from view by the man, but it was him who’d caught your attention. If it weren’t for Mat coaxing you along, you’d have frozen in place, eyes fixated watching them with the slow drip drip of dread pounding your body.
You were entranced by the way he brought his hands up to the side of her face, throwing his head backwards in a laugh – a real one, unbridled with joy – and then leant forwards, peppering kisses all over her face as she giggled sweetly at his attentions and affections. It wasn’t the PDA that had you stalling.
That man was Anthony. You could only see the back of his head, and he was further down than you, but he was around the same height and you could see the curls in his hair. He was even wearing a typical Anthony outfit.
It was simple, and you were sure almost every guy in the vicinity was wearing some variation of it, but what caught your eye was he was wearing the same grey t-shirt Beau had just left in.
It could have been any grey t-shirt.
But Anthony had just left wearing it and it was logical that he’d broken up with you because he was in love with that girl.
Mat seemed to sense your hesitation, and he slowed to a stop, brows furrowing at the intensity with which you were watching the young couple in front of you. His eyes drifted from you, his hand now gently grazing your forearm as though he was afraid you’d peel and leave him, to the couple.
He didn’t understand what was so compelling about them that had you completely fascinated. Granted, you looked horrified, and your eye twitched, a flash of pain appearing and then disappearing almost as soon as it had made its presence. If he thought you looked ill before, you looked like you were about to throw up–
He’d barely managed to steer you against a wall and wind your hair up before you’d thrown up on the side of the road.
You quickly pulled yourself up, hating that your eyes instantly drifted back over to the couple.
You frowned. The man wasn’t Anthony.
Then you hurled again, and Mat’s level of concern skyrocketed.
“How much did you have to drink?” He asked, helping you to stand back up, a slight grimace to his face as he made sure there were no splashes coating his jeans.
You briefly shut your eyes, stomach turning, feeling your heart break in real time as the emotions you’d bottled started to manifest itself in physical symptoms – completely against your will. Your eyes pricked with hot tears and the lump in your throat was back as your chin wobbled. You tried to hide behind your hand, but Mat had caught the momentary vulnerability before you could turn away.
He sighed, letting your hair fall back down and automatically pulling you into his chest.
“I didn’t have anything to drink.” You admitted.
His chest rumbled, and you didn’t know if it was the comfort he brought, because no one else seemed to understand what you were feeling at that moment, or if you simply craved a human touch from someone you trusted, but you felt your demeanour shatter, the tears tracking down your cheeks before you could catch them and reel them back in.
“I didn’t have anything to drink.” You repeated, shaking your head.
All you’d done was picture Anthony Beauvillier with other girls in love, and then promptly thrown up on the street.
Yeah, you were pretty fucked.
___
Yet, despite the fact that Anthony had moved to Vancouver, there was a temporary feeling about it – as though you didn’t believe the breakup had actually happened, or you didn’t believe it was really…a breakup?
It definitely had something to do with the fact that Mat was currently in your apartment, a rental, pre-furnished – one that rather conveniently, you hadn’t had the time to move into properly yet, and he was helping you box your belongings, taping the edges together and piling them up in the corner.
You were sorting out your clothes, placing them into a suitcase, and he was in the living room, going through your kitchen.
It hadn’t happened quickly. It took Mat a week to plant the seed in your mind, and it took you another three to decide to move out. Honestly, after Mat had pointed out that, in fact, your ‘friends’ weren’t really your friends; your job had previously offered you a different position in Surrey, not too far out from where you’d just rented another apartment – and it was a career move. That was what you kept telling yourself; technically the job move was a promotion – your salary had been upped and it was more of what you actually wanted to do job-wise.
Plus, your parents lived in Vancouver. You grew up there, went to school there, your friends still lived there. The only reason you stayed in New York was because you’d managed to snag a job straight out of college and you’d established a sort of life for yourself. Albeit, completely apart from your family, but you’d gotten used to the loneliness in college.
If anything, the only reason you’d stayed in New York and hesitated to accept that job offer in the first place – one that you’d gotten even before Anthony had dumped that bomb on you – was because of Mat.
You guys were pretty close, and it felt like a betrayal leaving him (especially after Anthony had just done the same thing, though it was out of his control) for the person he’d introduced to you.
And to say he was eager to send you back to Vancouver – ‘for your job opportunity’ – would be a bit of an understatement, if his volunteering to help you pack had anything to do with it.
It almost felt like someone had taken the knife already living in your chest and twisted it when you heard the song playing through the speakers. The song.
The melody was instantly familiar, even more so the croning of the voice, and it sent a pang of nostalgia ricocheting off the inside of your skull.
There were people everywhere; though it could have had something to do with the fact the venue was only one room – a large one at that, with tall ceilings and rather gorgeous curtains. The back wall was made up entirely of windows and the view overlooking the city was gorgeous from where you were standing. You swore you could see stars when you looked up.
Not that you looked very hard; your eyes were indefinitely locked onto Anthony as he leant back against the glass.
You were both sitting on the floor, him with his back to the glass, and you perpendicular. Somehow you’d both managed to find a quiet corner – literally – and sit down, because after you’d gone to get drinks, your chairs were occupied by some unfamiliar faces, and it was the perfect excuse to get him alone, at least to some extent.
You weren’t entirely isolated from the celebrations, but you made it work.
Your legs were stretched out along the floor, and because of the limitations of you being able to wear a dress in public, Anthony had elected to place his legs over the top of yours like some sort of criss-cross pattern. You were pressed together, him almost sitting on your lap, and you could tell he was comfy.
He’d shrugged his blazer off and a few extra buttons had come undone somewhere along the lines. Your hand stroked delicate motions on the material of his suit trousers, and although his head was resting against the glass, his eyes were watching your fingers.
There was a glass of champagne on either side of you both, yours empty, his only half.
Perhaps that was the reasoning behind your exaggerated reaction when you heard ‘Crazy in Love’ begin to play over the speakers.
You smiled to yourself, unaware of the soft look of mild amusement he was giving you. You’d noticed a pattern recently, and even through your high state of mind you’d somewhat remembered it.
“What?” His voice had your attention snapping back over to him, the motion of your hand on his leg never stopping. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, and you rolled your eyes.
“You haven’t noticed?” You ducked your head, disbelieving of his obliviousness. You threw your free hand in the direction of the music, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
“Clearly not.” He breathed a laugh, eyes lighting up at the mock offence you’d managed to implicate on your face.
“Everytime we go somewhere together, ‘Crazy in Love’ plays. Yesterday, at the restaurant; Mat even played it when he hosted dinner the other day…it’s just something I’ve noticed.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it…” He trailed off, a cheeky smile donning his face as his cheeks turned a rosy pink.
“Now that I’ve mentioned it? How convenient–” You started, but were promptly cut off when he leant forwards, reducing the short distance already between you both, and kissed you.
It was an effective silencing method, one that he’d used on you many times before and one that you’d used on him before. You were at that stage where little displays of affection, no matter how intensely they made those butterflies swarm, didn’t swerve or particularly hinder the one-sided conversation anymore. In other words, they’d lost their effectiveness, and even after this realisation, it didn’t seem to stop either one of you giving or accepting such attentions.
“I was thinking,” he muttered, pulling away whilst you kept a hand on his wrist, preventing him from moving too far.
Usually you would have teased him, warned him to be careful in doing such a thing, and it seemed he was expecting some sort of comment, because he paused, brows furrowing when he was met with silence. You nodded, however, unable to hide the fact that you were completely enthralled by his existence – you were sure he could see it on your face; you could even feel your cheeks heat up for no apparent reason at all other than the magnetic pull you felt towards the man sitting in front of you – and urged him to continue.
“Maybe it should be our song?” He asked, lifting the hand in your grasp up to your face, momentarily brushing a strand of hair from your face with his thumb.
He wasn’t nervous about the suggestion, that much you could tell. He was comfortable, eagerly anticipating your answer.
You smiled, tilting your head and you felt your eyes widen slightly. It didn’t seem like a silly idea.
“Why?” You asked, unable to help the quick glance at his mouth.
“I think it’s fitting to us.” He shrugged.
You nodded, not entirely surprised by the implication. You hadn’t said the words yet, but you knew how you felt. Rather shockingly, however, it didn’t fill you with a sense of dread or unease.
So you replied, “I think it is too.”
Despite the complexity of love, it seemed remarkably simple with Anthony.
It certainly didn’t feel that way when you walked into your living room, seeing Mat half attempt to dance along with the music as he placed various cups and mugs into a box on the kitchen counter.
It felt irrevocably wrong to hear it without Anthony there, and that mere fact was what spurred you on to lean over the phone on the coffee table and hastily press the skip button.
You ignored Mat’s groan of disapproval as you wordlessly made your way back to the bedroom.
__
“What are your neighbours like?” It was Mat on the phone, his face in the frame on FaceTime as he virtually kept you company as emptied the last couple of boxes.
You’d officially moved back to Vancouver a month ago, your parents offering your childhood room back for the first few weeks until you moved in properly. You didn’t exactly have the heart to say no to them, but their coddling (however attentive it was) had begun to get a little overbearing, so you’d taken every opportunity to sneak over to your new apartment and empty as much as you could.
It was fairly livable now: your main priority had been the kitchen and bedroom, and you’d emptied nearly everything to the point you were comfortable actually moving in. In reality, you knew if your parents hadn’t been there you’d have easily put up with living in a skeletal apartment – so for that, you were grateful.
All the nighttime sneaking out of your parent’s house and into your apartment had meant that you’d neglected to actually talk and meet your neighbours. All you knew was there was an elderly couple living two doors down, who’d only smiled at you in passing, and there had been a card posted under your door from your neighbour on your right, but you didn’t know what they looked like.
So when Mat asked you that question, you sighed, “I don’t actually know.”
He didn’t seem too shocked, and nodded in understanding.
“I probably need to, to be honest, I got something posted under my door the other day.”
At this, his interest peaked, and you saw him look up from his plate, raising an eyebrow, “Who was it from?”
You frowned, his rather exaggerated interest raising your suspicions, and froze from where you were unwrapping a glass, “Why?”
He shrugged, playing it off, “Because I think it’s important to know who you’re living around. What if something happens and you need help? Forget your key?”
You returned to your previous task, mulling his words over. You knew he was right because you’d had that exact same reasoning drilled into you since you’d left home in college, but your why hadn’t really been directed at meeting your neighbours, more, “Why were you so interested in who it was when you asked?”
He swallowed, shrugging once more, “Just am. No reason.”
You didn’t believe him, and he could clearly sense it, because he rolled his eyes, not saying anything else.
“It was from ‘Number Twenty-Three’.” You answered, watching him carefully, still not entirely trusting him.
He just nodded, ensuring to keep his facial expressions impassive as he shovelled another spoonful of rice into his mouth, not caring when a few grains fell back onto his plate.
There was a few more minutes of general chatter, and you found yourself sitting back against the sofa, pensieve as you took in your new living quarters.
“Do you think I was silly moving here?” You asked Mat, not looking at him as he pondered the question.
“No.” Was all he said, and you turned your eyes back to him.
The thought was something that had been majorly playing on your mind since you first agreed to move back to Vancouver. There was a part of you that knew you wouldn’t have even considered moving back if Tito hadn’t gone – and it freaked you out. You were aware putting Tito above all else was risky, especially considering the fact you hadn’t messaged him since you’d broken up; you didn’t know where he was or if he’d even want you anymore, if he had a girlfriend. It had been months, and you knew he was a desirable guy. You wouldn’t blame him if he’d moved on.
But there was always that nagging thing that had you feeling like you’d moved only because of Anthony, and you hated it so much. It made you want to curl up and teleport back to your old life in New York, but even the thought of that made your stomach turn because you knew he wouldn’t be there.
It just kept coming back to him.
You didn’t know what would happen if he saw you – that was assuming you ever gained the courage to actually face him again.
A part of you felt almost sheepish at the mere idea of seeing him. Sure, your heart rate picked up and your hands trembled against your will, mouth going dry as you remembered the night he broke up with you.
And the only reason you knew you could confide in Mat was because he had both sides of it; although he didn’t talk about it much – presumably for your own fragile heart – you knew he talked to him as much as he could, if not, everyday. You felt like you were using him as a bridge, and even then his words of encouragement fell on deaf ears, your own insecurities drowning them out with fears of rejection.
You wouldn’t have even moved to Vancouver if it hadn't been for Mat’s support and help.
He sighed, and you could tell he’d sussed you and your doubts out.
“He told me he’s not been able to even look at another woman without feeling like he’s gonna hurl.” He started, pausing to gauge your reaction. You swallowed, feeling a little guilty at the relief you’d felt upon his confession, “He asks about you everyday, and he’s not doing too well. I don’t even know if he’s sleeping properly.”
You remained silent, instead choosing to reach a hand into the box next to you.
Fuck.
One of Anthony’s Islander’s caps.
Almost instantaneously you felt your eyes begin to water, both at the hat and everything Mat had just told you.
It was a lot, all of this new change, in one go.
“I think I’m gonna go.” You said quietly, trying to hide the way your voice cracked a little at the end. You refrained from sniffling, not wanting to raise Mat’s concern.
“Okay,” he muttered, his voice soft, “Look after yourself. Call me if you need anything.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together, not trusting yourself to speak.
“Maybe think about replying to number twenty-three? Look at making a few new friends, yeah?”
You laughed, though it was watery – the kind that had you questioning if you wanted to cry or not, “‘S not one of your worst ideas, actually.”
“Hey.” He mocked, faking offence, “But, really, I think you should.”
“I think I might.” You admitted.
You missed the way he sagged.
“Good.” There was a brief pause, “Anyway, love you, miss you, have fun unpacking.” He waved at the camera, flashing you a charming smile, which you didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.
“Miss you too, Barzy. Try not to hurt yourself before I next see you.” It was a low blow, and you saw the hurt flick over his face momentarily.
Then you promptly ended the call, unable to stop yourself laughing a little.
___
Tito had just finished washing up when a piece of paper slipped under his door.
He’d stopped what he was doing, midway to the living room. The paper had slipped under his door coincidentally at the exact moment he was walking past it, and he’d frozen, creeped out at the timing. It was almost as if the person on the other side had known he was walking past the door and chosen that specific moment in time to post the letter through with the purposeful intent of freaking him the fuck out.
Nevertheless, he’d put his coffee mug down on the counter, reaching to inspect the piece of paper.
He almost dropped it when he saw the writing.
His face drained of blood, and before he’d even opened it, he’d thrown the door open, hastily checking the hallway.
It was empty.
Disappointment clawed at his chest, but he remained somewhat hopeful, his fingers working quickly to unfold it, his foot holding the door open in case they decided to make another appearance.
Why did he spend so long looking at it? He could have caught her, for fuck’s sake.
It was a stretch, in hindsight. There had to be at least a million people who flicked their ‘f’ like that, and there had to be even more who wrote at an angle like that, with their letters remaining round.
It had to be common.
Thank you for the welcome, 23.
Then when his eyes tracked down to the sign-off, he swore someone was playing tricks on him.
Obviously, his immediate reaction – completely bypassing the excitement and blinding fear of her having moved on from him bubbling in his stomach – and shut the door behind him, scrambling for his phone.
Mat picked up almost instantly.
“You fucking prick–”
Needless to say, the injured Islander knew exactly what he was talking about.
___
He’d not wanted to scare you, truly.
Since Mat had admitted to everything – from the reason you’d moved to his helping hand in finding you a place to live temporarily – he’d taken measures to ensure you didn’t run into him without any semblance of warning, but he’d found it much harder to put into practice.
He’d almost run into you three times in the past week, and every time he had to leave or enter his apartment, he’d take a cautious look down the hall and run – not wanting to startle you too much.
He just didn’t want to catch you off guard was all.
He knew you’d probably want to see him under your own control, and he was all for waiting for you. From what he’d been told, you weren’t doing much better than him.
But he’d known his luck was bound to run out at some point.
Which was how he’d found himself in this exact predicament.
___
You’d been weirdly wanting to go downstairs. You didn’t know why you’d had the sudden urge, but all you did know was that there was a lounge and a bar, and you were in desperate need of some socialising. It had been a gruelling week – and incredibly dull – unpacking your things and overthinking your first day at work, and you needed to escape from it all.
Each and every time you’d left your apartment, you’d cast a curious glance at your neighbour’s door. Number twenty-three.
They were a perfect neighbour: very rarely did they disturb you, and when they did it was only the quiet hum of some music that you guessed must have been played in their bathroom, because when you pressed your ear against the wall it felt as though you were standing right next to a speaker.
The only issue you’d had with them was that you hadn’t seen them; whenever you’d heard their door shut, you’d immediately gone to look through your peephole, only to be met with an empty corridor.
It had frustrated you to no end, but you’d coped, helplessly wondering when you could thank them. They’d been the first person to welcome you and you hadn’t even seen them yet – there had been a nagging in the back of your mind that perhaps they’d been dodging you, but there was no way it could have possibly been intentional. You’d barely been at work a full two weeks, which hardly gave them time to actually deduce your timetable or hours.
You’d been watching the Canucks, unable to help yourself from consuming every piece of media Anthony was part of, and then you’d switched off the TV a few hours later, completely alone and needing to get out of the confines of your apartment – desperately and immediately.
That was how you’d come to be locking your door from the outside – ever-weary – and frozen, nerves tingling and heart pounding with nerves as you heard a pair of footsteps coming down the hallway. They were slow, and you could vaguely make out the sound of their trudging, so you’d stalled, secretly hoping that they’d be Number 23.
You’d pretended to fiddle with your keys as you waited for the footsteps to round the corner only when they did, you heard them stop short of you, a quiet “Putain” whispered under their breath.
You frowned, not yet looking up at the person. There was something familiar about their whisper, something you couldn’t quite place immediately.
It was a different story when you looked up.
You could immediately tell from the soft echo of sorrow on his face and abundant lack of shock at your appearance that he wasn’t entirely surprised at your presence. His hand was firmly holding the end of his duffel bag that was slung over his shoulder, and he was wearing the usual suit, his cheeks still a little flushed from the match you’d only been watching a while ago.
You couldn’t help thinking that the TV screen did him no justice, because even though he wasn’t smiling or expressing any semblance of excitement at your presence, he was stunningly breathtaking in your opinion. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was parted – he hadn’t wanted to see you at that moment, that much was obvious from the expression stagnant on his face.
You, on the other hand, found yourself quite unable to draw oxygen into your lungs at his sudden appearance. You were completely frozen, unable to do anything other than stare dumbly, your jaw half-dropped in sheer shock.
Your heart was thunderous, practically clashing against your ribcage so hard you were sure you could feel the pain of it, and your mouth had dried, eyes watering. You weren’t on the verge of tears, by any means. In fact, you felt rather numb to any sort of emotion, because you’d prepared yourself for this moment for months, and now that he was standing in front of you, looking almost sheepish at your lack of understanding, you were unable to string even a coherent thought together.
There was a moment when you had thought he’d arrived in your hallway purely to see you, but that had quickly dissipated when he regained his composure, seemingly on the verge of saying something, and slowly walked past you, unable to tear his eyes away.
You let out a shaky breath when he reached the door branded ‘23’, and furrowed your brows.
He’d been in front of you this entire time–fucking Mat.
He’d orchestrated this car crash. He was the one who’d suggested you speak to your boss whilst he’d look at possible apartment rentals for you, and you’d naively agreed, assuming he had no ulterior motives in his uncharacteristic generosity considering he’d been nothing but helpful with your entire move, but right now you hated his guts.
Anthonylooked away, briefly, considering something for a second, before looking straight back towards you, a hand smoothing his hair back unconsciously. Neither of you said anything as he blindly unlocked his door, taking one last look at you, before stepping through.
It was only when his door slammed shut that you were able to take a breath.
The hand that had been fiddling with your keys dropped to your side, and you were hardly able to realise what you were doing before you’d unlocked your door, flinging it open and making a direct beeline for the box you’d purposefully avoided since your unfortunate FaceTime call with Mat. Your hand immediately sought out the cap, and operating purely on adrenaline and the mindset of ‘what-the-fuck-I-have-nothing-to-lose’, you’d made your way back out of the door, plans to head downstairs completely forgotten.
You wouldn’t have done it if you hadn't had the confidence instilled in you from Mat, that Tito had been miserable since he’d left New York, even despite the efforts of his new teammates to introduce him to Vancouver society.
Your brain must have been running a mile a minute, because when you clashed into a suit-clad chest, not entirely taken aback by his sudden appearance, you were pushing the cap at him.
“You made me cry over a fucking hat, did you know that?” You asked, the Islander’s cap hanging between you.
Tito blanched, unable to speak.
You waited in anticipation, pursing your lips harshly to stop yourself from speaking.
You wanted him to say something to alleviate the doubts you’d had.
He gave you nothing.
“Say something.” You implored, hand dropping.
He took a breath, relaxing as his shoulders slumped forwards, “I’m sorry I made you cry over my hat.”
Your jaw clenched, fighting the burning in your eyes. You absolutely refused to cry until he confirmed what Mat had been telling you – only then would you let yourself break. You also had to be inside an apartment; you weren’t about to let yourself cry in the hallway for all your new neighbours to see.
“I’m sorry I broke up with you.”
It was quiet, so much so you would have had to strain your ears to hear him. His voice sounded broken and weak, and when you looked up at him his eyes were pooling with regret, lips turned down in what you could only place as sadness. It was plain and bare, and so hopelessly effortless than you felt yourself soften, even despite the bitterness you still held against him.
“Why?” You asked, not reaching for him. You were determined to keep him in the balance, refusing to give him even a snippet of what you were feeling. It may have been a harsh play on your behalf, but you weren’t about to forgive him too easily for unnecessary heartache.
He hesitated, fingers tapping his thigh uneasily, “Because we’d only been dating a few months and I didn’t want to ask you to uproot your entire life to Vancouver just for me.”
His honesty was startling, and you took a sharp step backwards.
It seemed too good to be true, yet you hated the doubt and mistrust placed in him to the point you felt like you were betraying him.
“I uprooted my entire life to move from Vancouver to New York in the first place, you know that.” You replied, somewhat coldly, turning around and entering your apartment.
There was that prickling feeling as though you were being watched through peepholes, and you desperately needed space to breathe.
You heard Anthony follow you, the door clicking shut behind you with ease, and you threw yourself onto the sofa, dreading and anticipating the late conversation.
“I do.” He admitted, hands in his pocket as he seated himself on the coffee table in front of you, “But I also know that you don’t enjoy change and I felt guilty even—”
“You didn’t even ask.” You interrupted, irritation flaring up.
He sighed through his nose, and you could tell he was almost as fired up as you were. This argument had been a long time coming, the reasons and excuses simmering beneath your skin for far too long, and now you were facing each other with no particular time constraint considering the fact you now shared a wall — something you couldn’t quite decide if it was a blessing or a curse.
“If I had asked, would you have come?”
“I guess we’ll never know,” you snapped back, looking at him as he rolled his eyes, “You really fucking made sure of that, didn’t you?”
“Well I apologise for trying to protect you from making a decision that could have ruined your career–”
“I don’t need protection, Beauvillier,” he winced, the surname jab stinging, “I can make my own decisions perfectly well.”
“Let me rephrase: I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to come with me because I wanted you to.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, jaw clenching.
“I would have wanted to go with you, dipshit.” You fired back.
“Would have?” He repeated, tilting his head, that wild element of determination flashing through his eyes. He was clearly referring to the past tense you’d used.
“Yes.” You breathed, “I would have, because I’d gotten a promotion located in Vancouver, and the only reason I would have said no, as much as I’m ashamed to admit it, was because of you and your stupid hockey team. I thought you’d stay an Islander so I held off–”
He spluttered, “And you didn’t think to tell me?” His voice raised in pitch, hands flying in front of him as he tried to convey his exasperation.
“No!” You raised your voice incredulously, unable to hide your appall from him, “You left before I could even argue against the breakup and I haven’t seen you since.”
“Ah,” he held up a finger, dodging your lame attempt to swat it away, “But when did you get the offer, huh?”
You paused, feeling your cheeks flush with colour, “You don’t have to patronise me, Tito.”
“Tell me when, and I won’t have to.” He explained, eyes wide as he waited for your answer.
“I got it a couple of days before you broke up with me.” You admitted, voice now a few notches lower.
“And why didn’t you say anything before?” His voice tipped with an edge of regret as he spoke, desperation coating his words as he finished his question.
You were both breathing heavily, adamant to portray your points and frustrations. Neither of you seemed to be thinking much of anything but about the other – much less of what or who you’d been doing since your departure – Mat’s words to both of you seemed to have eased that question, allowing you to freely have at one another without any holding back or worrying about the other’s antics.
You were both clearly still hung up on each other, and that knowledge had you feeling both euphoric and hopeful – a dangerous concoction you’d acknowledged amidst partially yelling at each other. Despite that, it was obvious you’d both been holding back – voices strained for the sake of not wanting to disturb your neighbours, even if you were closer to the wall you shared with Tito than your other neighbour.
“Because I didn’t want to be that girlfriend who says ‘oh, by the way, if those crazy rumours of you getting transferred to the other side of the continent were true, you totally wouldn’t have to worry about our relationship because I’d most definitely go with you anyway’, and then before I could tell you that you ran out of the club. Then when I tried to ring you literally a day later, you’d blocked me on everything!” You rolled your eyes, groaning when he took his blazer off, his hands on his hips after loosening his tie.
You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose to gain an upper hand in the argument, but it had you losing your train of thought briefly.
“Oh, so now it’s all my fault?” He frowned, a crease forming between his brows.
You laughed bitterly, “Dude, of course it’s your fault. You didn’t let me not allow you to break up with me.”
“But you didn’t tell me about the job offer – which, by the way, is amazing, so congratulations, I’m incredibly proud of you,” he sidetracked, his voice becoming gentler and allowing himself to express a little sincerity within his facial expressions, before returning to its previous sternness, “But you telling me about that job offer would have quietened any doubts I ever had about dragging you here.”
“Well, it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” You muttered sarcastically.
“You’re telling me? I just didn’t want you to be unhappy for the sake of my own happiness, okay?” He held up his hands in surrender, waiting for you to respond.
You shrugged, still not quite believing where he was coming from, “Why were you doubting it, I’m literally in love with you. I told you that.”
“Well, I’m in love with you, too. But I guess my guilt overpowered that. I wanted you to come to Vancouver because you wanted to, not because you felt like you had to.”
“You didn’t even ask me, though. You took that right away from me.” You said.
You’d both softened, voices dropping a few octaves and flailing limbs reducing as your frustrations slowly poured out of you.
“And what would you have said if I’d have asked?” He echoed from before, slightly breathless as his chest heaved.
He was looking straight at you, curiosity and a destructive hope practically radiating from his face. He wanted you to say no, to reassure him he’d made the right decision.
“I would have said yes.”
His face collapsed, and his hands immediately went to cover his eyes for a few seconds. You stayed rooted to your spot, watching him mutter to himself and shake his head. You couldn't hear what he was saying – some complex French mutterings, your ears may have picked up a string of profanities.
Then, just as you were beginning to submit to the gravitational pull towards him, he lifted himself back up, eyes watering and rimmed red – it had you wondering if this was how he’d spent your days and nights apart; torturing himself with what could have been if only he’d had the courage to ask you the question. You knew you were in no position whatsoever to criticise his lack of action, however. It was just the only thing you could stomach to blame.
At least this way you knew the fate of your misery the past few months had been out of your control, even if that small voice in the back of your mind screamed against that.
“Of course you would have.” He nodded, foot tapping against your floor. He still had a lot of pent up agitation begging to be relieved.
He’d just played a match and he still had energy to burn.
Instead, you did the thing you weren’t entirely expecting, and you could tell from his face that he wasn’t expecting you to pull such a move, either.
What you really wanted to do was launch yourself at him – there was no doubt in your mind he’d catch you, he always did – and not let him go, but you held back, both for your own sanity and his, as well as the fact that you knew you were both going to have to spend the night in your own beds, absorbing and mulling over every single thing that had come to light.
“We’re both idiots that should probably work on our communication skills a little more.”
The trace of a small smile worked its way onto his face, an idea flashing through his mind, “What was that?”
You didn’t even think before you’d picked up a cushion from the sofa and launched it in his direction. It felt like you’d been anticipating such a trashy joke because your aim was spot on; the cushion smacked him squarely in the face, eliciting a shout of surprise.
After he’d let it fall to the floor you both stood in your half-made-up living room, both your hands on your hips and considering each other carefully.
You didn’t know how you were going to go from here, but you knew what you wanted to get out of it, and what you wanted was the man standing in front of you, bravely looking as confused as you felt.
“You played really well tonight.” You said, desperately wanting to break the tense silence.
You could tell what he wanted to do, and you couldn’t exactly deny that you also felt that same desire begin to burn you from the inside, but you knew you had to make him work for it.
“Thank you.” He replied earnestly, not entirely shocked by your revelation. Since he’d found out you were his neighbour, he’d been keeping an ear out for your TV patterns.
On more than one occasion he’d been able to hear the NHL channel blast through the walls.
“No problem.”
“I think I should go.” He made no move to do such a thing.
“I think you should.” This time, he took a few steps towards your door, his hand hovering over the handle as though expecting you to change your mind, before throwing it open and leaving as quickly as he could.
Your head was a mess and your chest was surely about to implode.
You let yourself think it over for about five minutes, hands pressed together and resting against your mouth as your eyes darted across the room. You caught sight of the Islander’s hat on the sofa – when had you even let go of it? – and picked it up, leaving your apartment to knock on his door.
He must have been standing behind it waiting for you because it swung open only on the second knock and you barely had time to breathe before you were tugged roughly against his chest, your hands not wasting any time in burrowing themselves in his hair, and moving your mouth against his, tongues intertwined and breathing just as heavy as it had been when you were arguing.
It was short, possibly about ten seconds of unadulterated desire and lust and love, before you were shoving him away, attempting to maintain some seriousness. It failed drastically, your eyes working to keep up the act, but your mouth giving you away hilariously as you still felt the remnants of his kiss on you, leaving you able to do nothing but smile dumbly at him.
“I’m giving you this back.” You shoved his hand against his chest, but he made no move to take it off you.
“I don’t want it.”
“Neither do I.”
“It looks better on you.” He argued, taking it from your hand and placing it on your head.
You pulled a face, and swiped it off, “I’ve always been more of a Nucks fan than an Islanders, so, no thank you.” You let it drop between you, before failing to resist pressing another hot kiss to his mouth, dodging out of his needy hold and leaving.
You hear the vague protest of “I’m telling Mat you said that!” and you spun on your heel, inappropriately shouting, “Fucking go ahead!” Before you shut your door, unable to process anything until you collapsed onto your bed face-first, cursing Mat Barzal’s wicked plotting.
#tito beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier oneshot#tito beauvillier imagine#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagine
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mistletoe (anthony beauvillier)
day 2 of star’s ficmas event!
anthony beauvillier x reader
Brock hosted the holiday party that year and it was Anthony’s first holiday season with the team. Anthony had met your through the boys, you worked with the team and had made close friends with many of the guys. Brock had texted you the invitation to the party before anyone else.
Everyone knew. Everyone knew that there was just some spark waiting to be lit between Anthony and you. The stealing of glances at the rink and brushes past one another in the tunnels. “What are you doing?” you questioned, you had arrived at Brock’s early to help set up. Brock was standing on a chair, his dog watching curiously as well. “Hanging mistletoe.”
The party went on, the boys and their significant others mingled around and you were talking with Lexi Demko. “Spending the holidays alone?” she asked and you shrugged. “I mean it’s kinda early in December I guess, something could always change.”
You happened to walk under the mistletoe when Andrei Kuzmenko was also passing under. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, eliciting a laugh out of him and it was harmless but for some reason, across the room, Anthony was holding his cup a little tighter.
Throughout the night, Anthony found himself lingering near the entrance of the kitchen, it was like the little green plant hanging was taunting him. He’d step away to go use the restroom or grab another beer from the cooler and you’d happen to walk right under the mistletoe or walk under it at the same time as someone else. It felt like he was one of the few single individuals at this party that had yet to receive a kiss from you, even if it was just a peck on the cheek.
The party was winding down, some of the families had trickled out, needing to head home to relieve their babysitters of their duties. Anthony had thought you had left for the night but he saw you cleaning up the kitchen.
“Felt like I haven’t seen you all night,” Beau commented as he joined you, the rest of the party sipping on their last beers and glasses of wine in the living room. You smiled at him, “Hi Tito.”
“Is there a reason you’re cleaning up Brock’s kitchen for him?”
You shrugged, “Brock is like my older brother, plus he’s going to be hungover and no one wants to wake up hungover and to a dirty house.” Anthony felt himself swoon slightly, only you would be so nice. He tugged up his sleeves of his sweater, collecting some trash around the kitchen and putting away items that had been taken out of cabinets and drawers.
“Any holiday plans?” Anthony questioned. “Not really, just work,” you shrugged. It was hard to be single during the holidays. “Hey! Lovebirds!” Brock beckoned from the living room, “Stop cleaning my house, come sit with us!”
You rolled your eyes before grabbing Anthony’s arm and he sucked in a breath as you began to tug him toward the living room to appease your best friend’s wishes. It was silent as Anthony made you stop walking, right in the doorway of the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look up to know what was above you at the moment.
The cheap mistletoe ball hanging had been waiting all night for this, waiting for the two individuals who had been pining after one another to finally be the ones getting caught under the plant. “Oh, mistletoe,” you grinned, eyes connecting with Anthony’s beautiful ones. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to-” he was cut off with your lips connecting with his. His eyes fluttered shut and he froze before he finally realized what was happening, his hands landing on your waist.
“Are you two ever going to- oh, never mind!” Brock had walked up and quickly scrambled back to the living room. “Just kiss in my kitchen, that’s fine!”
#anthony beauvillier#anthony beauvillier blurb#anthony beauvillier x reader#canucks fic#canucks imagine#star’s ficmas#vancouver canucks imagine
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OT Winners & Baby Kisses
a fic?? from me?? it’s been a little bit but this little blurb finally got finished and i couldn’t wait to share it! the whole idea was inspired by a gif set thanks to @tonyspep and it was the cutest thing to write! also yes, beau is an islander here so we’re ignoring the trade lol.
hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx
word count: 1.4k
~~~~~
It might be the prettiest goal of his career. Not that Anthony cares. All that matters is the Isles won the game against Toronto in overtime thanks to his top shelf beauty that found the back of the net. His teammates surrounded him in one big hug almost instantly and he got endless helmet taps from everyone for what he did.
But when the celebration is over on the ice and he’s heading back to the locker room for an interview with Shannon, his thoughts are focused on something not even closely related to hockey or the big win.
The love of his life and his little boy.
“Beau! Thanks so much for taking a couple minutes to chat.” Shannon greets him with that same warm smile she always has whenever she catches the boys for interviews. Anthony says it’s no problem and that he’s happy to do it, especially because the fans love these little videos too. “I won’t keep you long. I know there’s a few others who want to congratulate you on the big win.” She continues and Beau nods in agreement.
After going over the questions and trying to think of good responses, Anthony puts all his attention on Shannon and the short interview. The faster it gets done, the quicker he gets to see you and his son.
“I’m here with Anthony Beauvillier, who scored the gorgeous OT winner to give the Isles yet another victory. Beau, can you walk us through the play and how the goal came to be?”
Anthony answers, words leaving his lips in a coherent way and he can’t help but smile thinking back on the goal that doesn’t seem like it just happened. He lucked out in terms of getting great teammates and he loves every second of playing with these guys.
He’s so zeroed in on the camera and his statements about the game, that he almost completely misses the soft murmuring that distinguishingly belongs to a toddler. But he listens to Shannon and tries to tell himself it’s not who he thinks it is.
“We heard your family was here tonight, and if they were, how did that impact your game?”
At that very moment, when Anthony’s breath is stolen away just at the mention of the two most important people in my life, he hears an unmistakable “dada!” followed by toddling footsteps that are heading in his direction. When his blue eyes shift, he spots his sweet little boy running towards him with his arms wide open.
“Frankie!” Anthony immediately mirrors the excited tone of his son as he kneels down to scoop him up in his arms. The happiest giggle escapes past Frankie’s lips and it’s a moment Beau wants to remember forever. He knows that you can’t be far behind and sure enough, he spots you in no time.
Just behind the crew and others passing through the hallway, Beau finds you with a look of adoration and panic on your face. When his gaze meets yours, you mouth a simple “sorry!” even if you both know nothing would’ve stopped Frankie from getting to his father the second he recognized him.
“Sorry, Shannon. Looks like we have a special guest joining us.” Anthony chuckles, adjusting Frankie against his hip. The little boy waved enthusiastically at the woman before settling against his dad’s shoulder.
“Dada win game!” Frankie exclaims, placing a hand against Beau’s cheek while flashing the biggest grin possible. “Win!”
“That’s right, we did win. Good job!” Anthony replies before kissing the top of Frankie’s head and turning back to Shannon. With one silent look, he gave her the okay to ask his son a question which is something he knows will be too cute to pass up.
“Frankie, how cool was it to see your dad score tonight?”
“This much!” Frankie says, holding his hands as far apart as he can. “I yell for Dada when he got goal.”
“I heard you on the ice, buddy. You and Mama.”
The little boy giggles, the sound filling Anthony’s heart with so much love he swears it might burst, before he nuzzles his face into the crook of his dad’s neck. It’s the telltale sign that Frankie has gotten a little shy which only seems to make the moment even sweeter.
“Thanks so much for your time, Beau. Enjoy the rest of the night with your family. Back to you guys!” Shannon finishes the interview, giving him and Frankie a quick goodbye before the broadcast crew leaves.
Before he can even adjust Frankie’s little Islanders beanie so the one floppy piece of hair on his forehead gets tucked back underneath, you’re walking right up to them. The smile on your face can only be compared to the sun and Anthony swears he has never known a love like this.
“Hey, bub.” You say softly, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips that immediately makes Frankie giggle. “You killed it out there tonight. We’re so proud of you.” Anthony can’t stop the swelling in his chest at the compliment. He usually hates any kind of attention surrounding his play, but from you and Frankie, he would take it anyday.
“Thank you, mon amor.” Anthony murmurs, the French rolling off his tongue so smoothly. “What a surprise this one was! Surprising me in an interview.” He continues, bouncing Frankie on his hip for a moment and the little boy laughs before burying his face against Beau’s.
“I happy for goal!” Frankie exclaims with a laugh before squishing a big, dramatic kiss against his father’s cheek. A giggle slips past your lips at the sight. You’ve never known this kind of happiness before and you don’t ever want it to disappear.
“Well, I’m just as happy to see you.” Anthony says, booping Frankie’s nose to get an adorable smile in response, “And you.” He finishes and pulls you in for a soft kiss that’s full of love.
When the two reluctantly pull away, everything in the world feels just right then. Frankie is fisting Anthony’s blue jersey in his tiny hand as he snuggles into his dad and the adrenaline of the game is still rushing through each one of you although your son seems to be getting sleepy. If this is what the rest of your life will be, will feel like, because of Anthony and your little boy, there’s nothing else in the world you want.
“C’mon bubs, Daddy needs to get changed so we can go home and you’re getting tired.” You prompt, reaching over to transfer the toddler to your arms. But before Frankie can respond or Anthony can hand him over, you hear someone yelling as they turn the corner towards where you’re standing.
“Beau! Dude, where have you been?” Barzy calls out before he takes in the scene. “Hey, Y/N! And Frankie! What’s up, little guy?” Mat says with excitement, holding out a fist for Frankie to fist bump.
“Unca Maty!” Your son almost squeals and Anthony has no choice but to put him down so he can toddle over to his best friend on the team.
“I didn’t know you two would be here.” Mat continues with a smile as kneels down to Frankie’s level before picking him up. “Dad scored a goal just for you, Frankie, huh?”
“Yeah! You score too!” Frankie replies, beaming while gently patting Mat’s cheeks. You can’t help but laugh at the scene and you lean into Anthony for a moment, just watching the little boy who you both love so much interact with one of your closest friends.
“Wanna go say hi to the boys? They would be thrilled to see you.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Frankie cheers in response to Mat’s question and you only shake your head before Mat promises he’ll be back with him soon.
“I should go supervise. Make sure nothing crazy happens.” Anthony says quietly, hands finding your hips and his gaze never breaks away from you. It’s almost as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
“That would be a good idea. Plus the faster we get home, the faster Frankie goes down for bed and the faster we celebrate, yeah?” Anthony’s eyes go wide as you keep talking and your voice begins getting softer and softer. OT winner or not, you still would’ve wanted to celebrate him but you already had the perfect thing in mind.
“I’ll make sure Mat doesn’t hog him for too long.” Beau smirks, kissing you deeply before heading towards the locker room. And as you’re standing there shaking your head as he runs away with a dopey smile on his face, you know you couldn’t be any happier.
#anthony beauvillier#tito beauvillier#anthony beauvillier fics#anthony beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier x reader#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagine#new york islanders#vancouver canucks#anthony beauvillier fluff
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watching him with those eyes | mat barzal x reader x anthony beauvillier
summary: after you wear tito's jersey mat decides you need to be punished
warnings: mat is a little bit of an asshole, smut (spanking, fingering, p in v unprotected, degradation, threesome, voyeurism), brief blackh*wks mention
a/n: soooooo I wanted to do 12 days of smutmas but my brain no work so this is my last smutmas fic HAHA unless I somehow regain inspiration before christmas. but I really love this one so uhhhhh have fun and enjoy!
xoxo
nina
You knew it was a risky move, knew you’d piss Mat off. But you couldn’t help yourself, slipping on the #18 jersey before you left your apartment. The Islanders were facing the Blackhawks tonight and despite Mat being your boyfriend Tito was your best friend that you hadn’t seen in months.
Tito’s face had absolutely lit up when he saw you during warm-ups, skating over to you with a grin. You’d wished him good luck and he’d skated off.
Then Mat had seen you. And he was not happy.
Mat wasn’t an overly jealous person but he’d always envied the bond that you and Tito had formed over decades of friendship. You assured Mat that he had nothing to worry about, Tito had introduced you two after all. But you knew that Mat was still on edge.
After the game you waited for Mat, your feet tapping anxiously against the linoleum as more and more players trickled out of the locker room. When you finally spotted him you plastered on a smile but Mat didn’t return the sentiment to you. He accepted your chaste kiss before tightly gripping your waist and leading you down to the parking garage.
“Mat-“
“Don’t,” he growls as he presses you into the side of his car. “You think you’re so cute running around with his number on, huh?”
You gasp as Mat’s fingers wrap around your throat, the pressure making you blink back tears.
“You’ve been naughty baby. Do you remember what happens to naughty girls,” Mat asks as he squeezes just a bit tighter, your eyes rolling up to meet his.
“They get punished,” you choke out just as Mat lets go of your throat.
“Get in the fucking car,” Mat spits out as he gets into the driver's seat. You obey, silently following and buckling up as he pulls out of the parking garage.
The entire drive is silent and seems to take twice as long as usual. There’s no casual conversation or music, just you and Mat as he drives you to his apartment.
You bolt from the car as soon as Mat puts it into park. When he catches up with you his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest.
“Oh baby… You can’t fucking run from me,” Mat coos in your ear, his breath fanning across your skin. “You want me to take you over my knee?”
“Mat…” you groan as he slides his hand down to cup your heat over your leggings. “We’re in the hallway, anyone could walk by.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Someone watching me take this sweet pussy,” Mat growls and bites into your shoulder making you gasp. “Mmm, that’s my girl. C’mon baby, time for your punishment.”
Mat drags you down the hallway and makes quick work of unlocking his door. As soon as you’re inside he’s got you up against the wall, pressing his hips into yours as his hand finds your throat again.
“My baby wants to be watched? Want someone to know how much of a whore you are,” you moan against Mat as he brushes his lips against yours. You can feel his fingers ghosting across your leggings, coming closer to the apex of your thighs. “Yeah, you’re a little slut, aren’t you? Wearing my best friend’s jersey? You want Tito to watch me fuck you so he knows you’re mine?”
“Holy shit Mat,” you cry out as he finally cups your pussy through your leggings and squeezes your throat tighter. “Fuck! Yes, I want it! Please, baby!”
A dark chuckle leaves Mat as he lets you go, your chest heaving as you stare up at him with wide-blown pupils.
“Careful what you ask for baby,” he whispers against your lips before throwing you over his shoulder and walking you down the hallway to his bedroom.
Mat sits on the bed, not giving you a chance to acclimate before he throws you over his knee. Your heart is racing as he harshly tugs your leggings and panties down, exposing your ass to him.
“You’re so fucking wet baby,” Mat groans as he runs his fingers through your slick folds. “God, is this all for me?”
The only thing you can do is moan, savoring the feeling of his fingers teasing your entrance and the fact that you’re completely exposed as you lay across his lap.
“Or is it all for Tito?” Mat asks as he shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt. “God I bet you’d love to be watched by him. Let him hear how fucking wet you are?”
“Mat,” you cry as he plunges into you again, his other hand coming down to slap your ass. Your body is already overstimulated and the night has just started. “Oh my god!”
Mat delivers two more smacks, his fingers still inside of you as he doles out your punishment. Your breath comes out in whimpers as he holds you in place, his hand continuously smacking your ass and sending electric jolts through your body. He pauses his slaps, instead moving his fingers in and out of your cunt making the most lewd sounds.
“So loud, so wet. You’re doing so good” Mat chuckles as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. A pathetic moan leaves you as you thrash around on his lap. “Putting on such a good show, showing Tito how wet you are for him, how you’re a slut for him. God baby he looks like he wants to eat you up.”
Your head immediately pops up at Mat’s words, stilling when you meet Anthony’s eyes from across the room. He’s standing in the doorway of Mat’s bedroom, eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him. You flung over Mat’s lap, your dripping cunt on full display, and his name on your back.
“Tito-”
Mat shoves your head back down before either you or Anthony can say anything. His hand comes down on your ass and you can’t help the whine you let out, “Love it when you’re loud, baby. Show Tito how good you are for me.”
The thought of Mat’s best friend watching you has you on full alert, your body thrumming with excited energy as your boyfriend continues to spank you. His fingers come back to your cunt, pushing in roughly and catching your breath on a gasp.
“So close, Mat,” you cry out, clenching around his fingers as he continued to mercilessly fuck you. “Please, baby!”
“Come for me baby, let Tito see how pretty you look when you coat my fingers with your cum,” Mat’s words trigger your orgasm, a series of moans and gasps falling from your lips as your hips jerk against him. “That’s it, baby. Doing so good for me. Fuck Tito, she’s so tight. Squeezing the life out of my fingers.”
A low groan escapes Tito and the sound makes your pussy clench against Mat. He lets a chuckle out before pulling his fingers out of you and giving you one more slap to your already red ass. Without warning he throws you onto the bed and you scramble to your knees before he can sit up.
“All fours baby,” Mat commands as he pushes your shoulders down. “Want Tito to see your face when I fuck you.”
Falling onto your hands you look up and meet Tito’s eyes. He’s sitting in the chair Mat has positioned in the corner of the room now, eyes never leaving you as Mat rips off your panties and leggings. His erection is straining in his dress pants, the sight fueling your aroused state.
“You eye fucking my best friend over here?” Mat whispers in your ear, his body encasing you as his hard cock ruts against your core. “Knew you were a fucking slut. You want him to fuck you instead of me, don’t you?”
“Mat, baby-,” you gasp as he pulls back, his hands gripping your waist tightly. His dick is prodding at your entrance and you thrust your hips back into him, eyes still locked with Tito’s. “Want him to watch you fuck me. Please, baby.”
At your words Tito groans loudly, hand coming to palm his erection as his head lolls backward in lust. Mat pushes his cock into you with a rough thrust and you’re crying out in pleasure. Your hips buck back into him as he bottoms out, his hands on your waist squeezing hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises in the morning.
“So fucking tight, so perfect for me,” Mat groans as he thrusts into you, one of his hands slapping your ass again. “Look so pretty taking my cock with his number on your back.”
You realize that you’re still wearing Tito’s jersey and you let out a breathy moan of pleasure, your hips thrusting back into Mat. When you look up to meet Tito’s eyes you nearly collapse at the sight of him watching you and Mat with his hard dick in his hand. He’s not as thick as Mat, but his length makes up for it. Tito meets your gaze and you groan at the connection there.
“Beau, oh fuck,” you cry out as Mat slaps your ass again. “Oh my god, so good baby. Fucking me so good for Beau.”
Both men loudly groan at your words, Mat’s thrusts speeding up as Tito jerks his cock harder. The sight and feeling of both of them has you reeling, your overstimulated body bowing to Mat’s hold on you. Your eyes are locked on Tito’s as he watches the two of you fuck with reckless abandon.
“So close Matty,” you gasp out as Mat’s hand wraps around you to shove roughly at your clit. “Baby, I n-need Tito. Please Mat. Fuck! Want you both to cum on me.”
Carefully you watch as Tito meets Mat’s gaze. You can’t see your boyfriend from this angle but you know they’re silently deliberating something as Mat continues to fuck you. Without a word Tito stands and comes to the edge of the bed, hard cock still out as he jerks it roughly just inches from your face.
“I knew my little slut would want this,” Mat breathes out as he pulls your hips up, tugging at your hair with one hand so you’re face to face with Tito. “You want him so bad, you take him. Show him what I get every fucking night.”
There’s only a moment of hesitation between the two of you before you lean forward and lock your lips with Tito’s, one hand coming up to wrap in your hair while the other continues to jerk his cock. You moan into his mouth, reveling in the feel of him on your lips and Mathew pounding away at your pussy.
“Fuck,” you gasp against Tito’s lips. “So close… So… Fuck baby please!”
Mat works your clit furiously as you cry out your release into Tito’s mouth, his hand in your hair pulling your head back so you were facing him head-on. Suddenly he drops your hair right as Mat pulls out of you and both of their cries of pleasure fill the room. With a pleased smile, you realize that they’d both dirtied the back of your jersey with their releases, your knees giving way so you can collapse on the bed as they both finish themselves off.
You’re dazed for a few minutes until you feel a warm washcloth between your legs just as Tito crouches in front of you, wiping your hair away from your face, “Let me take this off of you, yeah?”
Tito pulls the jersey off of you, throwing it into the laundry basket as Mat finishes wiping you up. You reach up for Tito but he brushes you off, kissing your forehead instead of holding you like you had implied, “Early flight, I have to head back to the hotel.”
With a slow grin you watch as Mat and Tito say goodbye to each other, not an ounce of awkwardness between them despite what they’d just shared. After the front door closes Mat crawls into bed next to you and pulls your naked body against his.
“How you feeling baby,” Mat asks into your shoulder, lips brushing your skin. “Like your surprise?”
“Mmmm yes thank you,” you grin as you lean up to kiss him, one hand tangling in his hair. “But I like just having you here, baby. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Mat whispers as he strokes a hand across your cheek. “Should I just block off the whole weekend next time Tito is in town then?”
“Mathew!”
#mat barzal#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal smut#anthony beauvillier#anthony beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier fic#anthony beauvillier fanfiction#anthony beauvillier x reader#mat barzal x reader#hockey fanfic#hockey imagine#nina writes
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Fairytale of New York
Taglist. Masterlist.
Anthony Beauvillier x reader
For @swissboyhisch for the Hockey Girlies Discord Christmas Fic Exchange
A/N: Merry Christmas Erin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hope you have an a amazing one!!! Sending so many hugs!!!!! This was so fun to write! I’m going to put the masterlist and the taglist in a little while my laptop is being stupid
You wake up to a couple big snuffs in your ear. And when you opened your eyes you saw a big sleek brindle mass. “Ollie you need to go out?” You ask and his tail starts to wag faster. “I’ll wake up daddy.” To wake him up you hit Anthony on the chest. “Your son wants to go outside.”
“He’s your son now.”
“Since when is he my son?” You asked rolling over to face Tito.
“Since he woke me up at 2 am wanting to go outside.”
“That’s not my problem. I’ll make coffee while you take him out.”
“Fine.” As you followed him out the bedroom, him heading to the back door and you to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. As you start pulling mugs and creamer out you hear the back door open and close and Tito coming into the kitchen.
“Why is it so cold outside?” He asks while grabbing you from behind.
“Holy shit your hands are cold.”
“Yeah, it's cold out there.”
“It’s not that cold, it’s New York, not Sorel-Tracy.”
“Are you ready to do presents?”
“Yeah give me five minutes to finish my coffee, I’ll meet you by the tree.”
————————————————————————
“You ready?” He called.
“Yes.” You come walking in with a brindle shadow following you into the living room. “Can we do mine first?” Grabbing a small box with blue wrapping paper with snowflakes on it and handing it to him.
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you, just open it!”
As he rips the paper open he sees the box that he’s been wanting to get for months.
“You got the watch I’ve been eyeing!” He says as pulls out a simple gold watch and starts to put it on. ”It’s perfect.”
“I knew you been wanting it”
“Thank you.” He whispers as he pulls you into a hug. “Now yours.” As he grabs a large box from under the tree.
As you rip open the slightly bad wrapping job you see at the bottom of the box two pieces of paper. “You got me the concert tickets I’ve been wanting.” You launch into his arms.
“It’s down in New Jersey though.”
“I don’t care.” “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
“I have to go start lunch and the pies. I’ll put these in the bedroom so I don’t lose them.” As you stand up from the couch you grab the tickets to put them in a safe space.
From the other room Anthony heard. “Ow, fuck, fuck, Fuck!”
“You good?”
“I stubbed my toe”
“I know.” As he had felt the soul bond radiate with pain from his foot up.
————————————————————————
After you had gotten changed and started the pies and put the ham on the smoker. You started on the sides. “Hey Alexa, play my Christmas playlist.”
“Ok, playing your Christmas playlist.” As the first song came through the speakers you heard Fairytale of New York come on.
“Tito, can you start the green beans?”
“Sure.” He answers. As he starts the green beans, you start the macaroni and cheese by putting the macaroni on to boil.
“Tito, can you grab the pie out of the oven.”
“Which one?”
“Pecan, the sweet potato has about 10 more minutes left.” As he reaches into the oven to grab the pie out he hits the side of his arm on the oven door causing him to burn his arm. As you had your back turned towards the oven you didn’t know he had burned himself until you felt the searing pain radiating throughout your arm. You spin around quickly clutching your arm even though you hadn't burned yourself the soul bond screamed in pain. “Oh shit, come here!” You hiss, pulling him backwards towards the sink. “Soak your arm, it'll make it feel better.” As he soaks his arm you go get the small first aid kit from the bathroom. “Here, sit on the counter.” As he hops up you open the first aid kit and start getting the gauze and Neosporin out. “It should be ok enough to not have to go to the ER tonight. I can’t even imagine the wait in there from all the people burning themselves.” As you finish patching him up his phone starts ringing.
“That’s Matty, probably saying what time he’ll be over.”
————————————————————————
“Matty, it’s so good to see you!” You say as you give him a hug.
“Good to see you too!” “What the hell happened to you man?” He asks turning to Tito after seeing the bandages on his arm.
“I burned my arm on the oven pulling a pie out.”
“Oof that sucks.”
“Is this for me?” You ask, seeing the bottle of wine in his hand.
“Yes, I hope I picked a good one.”
“It looks perfect.”
————————————————————————
“This is some of the best food I’ve ever had!” Matt said, pushing his chair back.
“Are you ready for pie?”
“Yes!!”
————————————————————————
“I’ll see you later man, get home safe.” Tito said, walking Matty to his car.
“Come here I want to cuddle.” You said from the couch.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Yess.”
“What do you want to watch?”
“What do you think.” You say looking over at him.
“Nightmare before Christmas.”
“Duh.” As he starts the movie and the opening credits roll you cuddle up closer, and Ollie joins you on the couch by your feet. You wake to someone softly shaking you.
“You fell asleep on the couch. Come on, it's almost 11:30, it's time for bed.” As he pulls you up off the couch he ushers you to bed. As you get into bed and get settled in. Tito speaks up. “Good night, Merry Christmas I love my watch!”
“Night, Merry Christmas, I love my concert tickets!”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” As you say that you hear a big huff. “Love you too Ollie!”
“Love you Ollie.”
Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12 @slafgoalskybaby @swissboyhisch @topguncultleader @wondershells @cixrosie
I know I have a few new people I need to add
#nhl x reader#anthony beauvillier#anthony beauvillier x reader#nhl fanfiction#nhl discord#nhl imagine#hockey girlies discord#hockey girlies fic exchange
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Trade | Anthony Beauvillier
Requested? No I wish
Warnings? A fuck ton of angst but with a happy ending?
Summary: When Anthony gets traded to the Canucks, the future of your relationship becomes uncertain
Word Count: 1,940
The trade came as a shock.
You had been sitting with your best friend, planning dinner and the rest of night plans when your phone started blowing up. You tried to ignore it at first, enjoying the minimal time you get with your friend but after your phone continued to ring off the hook repeatedly she told you to look.
Firstly it was the tweet notification from the Islanders. Then a text from Anthony. Followed by the ESPN notifications and eventually several texts from several players, wags, coworkers, etc.
“What’s up?” your best friend asks, clearly sensing a shift in your mood.
“Anthony got traded to the Canucks,” you say, still not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth.
“What!?” she yelps, running over to where you’re sitting in bed and yanking your phone out of your hand.
She scrolls for a minute as you space out, trying so desperately to process the news. Anthony was being traded. To a team in a different country, three thousand miles away from where you would be.
You’re snapped out of your daze when your phone drops to your bed with a silent thunk. You look over at your best friend and upon seeing the pity in your eyes you can’t help the tears streaming down without your permission.
“Oh honey,” she says. She pulls you in and you cry on her shoulder, loud embarrassing sobs as the weight of the news finally settles and holds onto your chest like a ten pound weight.
It feels like you cry for hours and hours, your best friend sitting there the entire time. She offers soft, kind, reassuring words to help calm you down. Why did this feel like the five stages of grief rolling through you over and over again?
“I’ll be right back sweetheart,” you hear your best friend say. She moves from your embrace and you fall onto the bed, curling into a tight ball with tears falling messily over the side of your face.
“Baby girl?” you hear.
You lift your head and through the flood of tears and blurry vision, you see Beau standing in your doorway.
“Oh Beau,” you say. You get up and move to him and his strong arms are around your waist in seconds. He rocks the two of you back and forth, one of his hands slowly tugging through your hair and rubbing your back in a perfect cycle.
“I had no clue baby,” he whispers and you can hear the hurt in his voice as well.
It suddenly hits you like a brick wall that this trade was worse for Tito than you could ever imagine for yourself. He has to pick up his entire life and move across the country, be away from you, and leave his best friend and the team he has worked his butt off for for years now.
You pull back, looking up at Beau to find he had started to cry as well. Your hands slide from his neck to his cheeks and you wipe away the stray tears that are left. He leans into your touch, his lips coming to meet your palm in a soft kiss.
“I’m so sorry my beautiful boy,” you whisper.
The next three days are spent helping pack Tito’s stuff up and get it sent out to Vancouver, wrapping up any loose ends, and spending every second possible together. Giving Anthony three days was a blessing from the Canucks especially considering they originally wanted him on the first flight out of New York.
You couldn’t sleep the night before his flight. You tossed and turned and had a rush of nightmares that left you restless for the remainder of the night. When you wake again, sunlight has started to peek through the curtains and you feel Tito’s heavy gaze on you.
“Good morning mon amour,” he whispers. One hand comes up and carefully curls a piece of hair around his finger before releasing it and letting it rest behind your ear. His eyes trace the features of your face, memorizing the way your eyes stay half closed when you were sleepy, the small smile that rested there when you looked at him, the way your hair fans in a million directions when you lay down forming a halo around you.
It feels like the morning happens in slow motion. It’s like your body was put on autopilot, knowing exactly what to do to survive while your brain hesitates due to all of the sadness clouding around you. You swear you don't become coherent until Tito stands before you at the security line.
Your arms are crossed firmly across your chest, your lip quivers as you look at the man you love before you and you look away quickly trying not to cry. Tito keeps his hands in his pockets, it's like you both know that if you hug each other now, you might never let go.
“Call me when you land?” you ask, trying desperately to act as if this is temporary.
“Yeah darling. Get home safe,” he says.
You take a deep breath, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around Titos middle and shoving your face into his chest. You couldn’t meet his eyes, if you did you’d do something embarrassing like ask him to stay.
“I love you,” you say, squeezing him tight. He reciprocates, whispering the sentiment back before pulling away from you and turning without a second glance.
The car ride is deafeningly quiet, you’re shocked still the entire time trying desperately not to let your emotions take over. Your body moves on its own accord, pulling you out of the car, trudging up to your apartment and shutting the door.
The sound of your keys dropping onto the counter is what shocks you out of your state. You slide to the floor, tears falling faster than you can think and suddenly you’re a puddle of sadness and missing Tito and wondering how the hell you were going to make this work without him here.
Tito has to work to make his body move away from you. He has to think through every step and every second to make it on the plane in time and off to Vancouver. He wipes away tears as he looks out the plane window that only takes him away from the one thing he wants.
It takes six weeks before you and Anthony can have an actual facetime call. Not quick texts, not short phone calls that last less than a minute, but a real face to face connection for a longer period of time.
When he picks up the phone, your gasp is quiet but audible enough that Anthony makes a face. It’s only been a little over a month, but everything seems to have changed. He started to grow out his beard, his hair a little longer and falling in waves, but his eyes are bright. He’s happy.
“Mon amour,” he greets and your heart flutters at the pet name.
“Tell me everything,” you demand and Beau smiles. “How’s the team? What’s your apartment like? Is the coach nice?”
Anthony tells you everything about the past six weeks and you’re grinning as you find out how well he’s been doing in his new job and his new home.
“I wish I was back home next to you,” he says towards the end of his recap and your smile falters.
“Me too,” you admit quietly.
You both try to continue the conversation after that, desperate to catch up and resume some normalcy in a relationship that seems to have blown up within the span of two months.
“I’ll talk to you soon?” he asks and you nod.
“I love you beau.”
“I love you too.”
The next few months are more painful than anything.
Beau is attempting to fit into the team, working hard to improve his game and help them win as much as possible for the rest of the season. His issue with achieving that? He still looks for you in the crowd every night.
He was losing you in the crowd quicker than he can imagine and it hurts that he’s struggling to remember the way you would scream and cheer when he scored. The way the fluorescents lit up your smiling face and while he was still living that dream for himself it was empty without you there.
This sadness coupled with the fact he just wanted to celebrate a win with you has him calling you after a particularly good game for him. He fails to notice that while it’s only 10 pm for him, it was 1 am for you.
“Hello?” you answer groggily.
“Oh darling I’m so sorry I forgot,” Tito’s voice falls over your ears and you’re quick to sit up in bed and shake yourself awake.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing I just,” he hesitates and you frown wishing you could see him. “I scored twice and got an assist and I’m just so excited and I wish you were here.”
Your head falls, relieved that Tito was okay but you could feel a slice through your heart at his words. You wanted to be there, wanted to celebrate with him and show off the love of your life. You hated this distance. Hated it, hated it, hated it.
“Oh honey that’s amazing,” you choke out quietly trying not to let your emotions overcome the joyous moment for your boy.
“I should have never left,” Tito whispers out and both of your hearts tear a little more at his words.
He can hear it in your voice, the quiet sighs, the hidden sniffles, and the fact that you’re no doubt crying halfway across the world and he can’t do anything about it. He should have never left you. He shouldn’t have caused this pain.
“You didn’t have a choice babe,” you remind him and he nods even though you can’t see it.
“Are we wasting time? Should,” he takes a deep breath trying to get out the next painful words. “Should we call it quits? I can’t keep doing this without you.”
“Beau,” the word is a plea on your lips. Asking, begging him not to do this.
“We only have two more months till you’re home. We can figure it out then but just wait okay? Don’t give up on this.”
You’re twirling a pen around in your fingers, zoning out as you stare at the pile of work in front of you.
“(y/n)?” your coworker asks. Your head snaps up to look at her and it occurs to you that it’s late and everyone has left.
“Oh shit sorry,” you mutter out moving to get all of your stuff and start heading out.
“Hello mon amour.”
You’re dreaming. You absolutely have to be dreaming. He didn’t come home till tomorrow. You knew that because you had been practically counting down the seconds till he’d be back in the states, back in your life, back in your arms, till he was back.
When you look up you’re more than happy to be wrong.
“Anthony,” his name falls from your lips like a prayer.
You’re both stepping quickly towards each other and when his arms come around you it’s like he never left in the first place. Everything has changed in the past six months since he left but none of it matters. Not when he was here, not when he was pressing kisses to your lips and keeping you so incredibly close it was impossible to get any nearer.
“I’m home,” he says into your hair. “I’m home love.”
#anthony beauvillier fic#anthony beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier imagine#canucks x reader#canucks imagine#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction
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for your celly can i request number 14 ("i've been looking for my hoodie-" "my hoodie, you mean." ) from the general fluffy dialogue list with anthony beauvillier ?
CHANGE OF NAME
this is the first time i've had to tag vancouver for tito and i want to cry. also, this one is a little short, but it's good. i promise.
14. "i've been looking for my hoodie-" "my hoodie, you mean." (from this prompt list)
you were laying on anthony's couch, waiting for him to get home. the power went out at your apartment, so you and your roommate frantically had to find someplace to stay while they worked on the power.
your roommate went to stay with her partner, so you went over to anthony's and made yourself right at home. your cat, chowder, who was really your's and anthony's child, hopped onto the couch and looked at you confused.
"i know, he should be here soon." you caressed her head.
he must've sensed you were talking about him because not even a minute later, you heard his keys in the door. chowder, ever the loving child, jumped off the couch and pranced off to greet her father.
"hi, clammy." you heard anthony greet in the voice reserved specifically for your cat, "i didn't know you guys would be here." anthony looked up, and he froze when he saw what you were wearing.
"we wanted to surprise you." you shrugged, rising up to the tops of your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
"you know, i've been looking for my hoodie-"
"my hoodie." you cut him off.
"your hoodie? huh, did you change your last name recently? i must've missed the part where you changed your last name to "beauvillier"." he joked, a smile on his face, showing that he wasn't actually too upset over losing the hoodie.
you rolled your eyes, "anyway," you changed the subject, "power went out, so we're here. don't know when it'll be back on, so looks like you're stuck with us for a while."
"won't hear me complaining." he smiled.
"awesome." you smiled.
taylor's 2.5k celly!
#anthony beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier imagines#anthony beavillier blurbs#anthony beauvillier x reader#anthony beauvillier fic#anthony beauvillier#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl fic#nhl blurbs#nhl#hockey#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#hockey fic#hockey blurbs#vancouver canucks imagine#vancouver canucks imagines#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks blurbs#vancouver canucks#taylor writes#taylor writes: hockey#taylor's blurbs#taylor's prompt lists#taylor's 2.5k celly!
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Life As We Know It | Part 21
Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69
Tagging: @thirteenisles @matbaerzal @mcmo-anon @texanstarslove @matbarzyy @hockeywocs @ggggmoneyyyy @tysonjost-taylorsversion @toplinetommy @fiveholegoal @itrocksmysocks @joelsfarabee @barzysreputation @iangiemae @stlbluesbrat @c-tangerine @canadianheaters @jeylia-haj @roopehintz @dreamsndior @beauvibaby @2manytabsopen @nazdaddy @sorryjustafangirl @fallinallincurls @pastelpapermoons @hockeybabe87 @kayt-marie @heatherawoowoo @islesnucks @whoeverineedtobe @ohpuckyeah @tpwkstiles @mf-mightyducks @day-dreamerr @ficsilove10 @notaccurateornice @rapidfever @hoodpankow @oopsiedoopsie23 @haylie-mcc @jostyriggslover96 @newlibrary @honestreputation @the-philthepill13 @justanotherfansblog @simpgirl-lat @hockeypuckspost @great-puck-work @yzas-stuff @sidscrosbyy @teenagekook @svechnikolan @lovethepreds @strong134 @dylancozzys @gravyoverall @lena306 @caelum-the-part-time-acosmist @taiter-tots @canesjedi31 @kq9003 [let me know if you want to be added!]
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: Alcohol. Sexual references?
Comments: I know this took a million years and I’m so sorry!!! I hope it’s worth the wait!!! Thanks again to everyone who stuck with this story despite it being WAY too long between updates. And remember, Beau is an Islander for life in this story 🧡💙
(c) nat g. 2023 // do not repost, do not claim as your own
Tess loved Valentine’s Day.
As long as he knew her, Tess had adored Valentine’s Day. Tess loved all the hearts and flowers and teddy bears and the idea of love that came with it. Not to mention, Tess had never really had a serious boyfriend, one that would spoil her with chocolates and roses and tell her 365 different reasons why he loved her. Anthony would be the first, and if he was lucky, her only, so he knew that he had to do something special for their first Valentine’s Day together; he knew he had to make it worthy of her. Even if he had never really been a fan of Valentine’s Day himself.
It wasn’t that Anthony didn’t like Valentine’s Day or had any personal vendetta against it. For several years he had played the boyfriend role perfectly with dinner and gifts and flowers, he just had never really been a fan of the holiday. Valentine’s Day marketed love and buying gifts to show that love, but Anthony firmly believed that, if you loved someone, truly loved them, you should show them every day, not just one day out of the year.
You should take them out to dinner just because, buy them flowers because the tulips reminded you of them, get them the bracelet or book or knickknack because you knew they’d like it, or go out because you love being with them. Love wasn’t something to expect or market, but something that should be given whole heartedly.
But Tess loved Valentine’s Day and he loved Tess with every ounce of his being, so he would make it the best damn Valentine’s Day he could.
The Islanders were on the road the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, so he had a lot of time to think about how he’d woo Tess. Most guys slept on the plane or played on their phone, but Anthony spent every second trying to plan the perfect day for Tess. And it didn’t take him long to realize that it was a lot easier to draw up a play than it was to come up with a Valentine’s Day plan.
Tess…
Tess was loving and kind and amazing and perfect and he knew how she used to dream of a perfect Valentine’s Day and happily ever after and he wanted to give her everything. He had let down a lot of people in his life, sometimes it felt like he still was, but he could never let Tess down. Come hell or high water, he’d do whatever he could to make her happy.
The plane wasn’t enough time to make the perfect plan, especially after he asked Barzy what his Valentine’s Day plans were and he shared a way too detailed description of all the different sex positions he was thinking of for him and Connor. “You know, the best thing to give a woman on V-Day is a mind blowing orgasm,” Mat said without looking up from his phone, and he only forced his eyes away from the screen when Anthony didn’t reply.
“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s on the menu,” he finally replied.
“You guys still haven’t?” Mat asked at the way Anthony’s lips tightened and he winced when Anthony shook his head. “Damn, I really bought that pack of condoms for nothing…”
“We’re going slow,” he shrugged. “Tess asked for slow so we’re going slow, we’ll get there when we get there. I mean…” he took a deep breath. “She’s never even mentioned sex before, for all I know…”
Mat’s eyes bugged a bit, “you think?”
“I don’t know,” Anthony replied firmly. “So, we’re going slow. So, yeah, I’m not sure mind blowing orgasm is on the menu, but I could totally give her one if she wanted,” he added quickly when Mat opened his mouth.
He was quick to close it before he shrugged. “I mean,” he started. “Are you sure? It has been a while. I could refresh you on where the clit is and how to—”
“Mat.” His voice matched the sharp look in his eyes. “I know what I’m doing. And plus, I know Connor has you by the balls. She tells Tess everything and Tess tells me everything.” His smile grew as Mat’s flush did and he contently leaned back in his plane seat as Mat went uncharacteristically quiet.
Maybe one of the married guys would yield better advice for Valentine’s Day, Anthony thought as he closed his eyes. Like Nelly or Bails or Pager. They had to know how to get Valentine’s Day right if their wives stuck with them.
Anthony’s mind was still racing when they landed in Tampa, and he was distant enough during dinner that the guys noticed, so distanced and caught up in the thought of Tess that he didn’t even hear Nelly’s question.
“He’s still in the honeymoon phase,” Mat smiled brightly as he wrapped his arm around Anthony’s shoulders. “Tess consumes his every thought.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled and pressed his thumb into Mat’s ribs hard enough to make him yelp. “Like Connor isn’t the only thing on your mind.”
“Not the point,” Mat replied and tried to jab he back, but Anthony easily blocked him.
“Whatever,” Anthony rolled his eyes. “What was your question?”
Brock shared a knowing look with Anders before he shook his head. “I asked you what you were going to order.”
“Oh,” he whispered and felt his blush creep up his neck. “Um, the steak sounds good?”
“Yeah,” Brock nodded. “I was between that and the salmon.”
“Salmon would be lighter, depends on how the flight hit you, I guess,” he replied, but suddenly he was thinking of whether steak or fish would be better for him and Tess. Or maybe chicken. Or duck. Or—
“Beau,” Anders’ voice cut through his thoughts and he winced as he looked to his captain.
“I will have my head on for the game tomorrow don’t worry,” he reassured Anders.
Anders shook his head. “I’m not worried about that,” he replied. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, offer any advice if you need. I mean, it must be difficult balancing this new phase with Tessa while trying to juggle a 12-month-old, I think I speak for all of us when I say those are a handful on their own.” Those with kids agreed with a soft laugh and Anthony nodded.
He knew he’d probably be chirped into next week for it, which is why he’d rather go to Anders or Nelly or Bails one on one, but he resigned himself with a nod, “Valentine’s Day is coming up and Tess adores Valentine’s Day and I want to make it special for her without it being cheesy.” When the table was quiet, he took a big drink of his beer and shot Mat a death glare.
It was Brock that broke the silence. “Flowers,” he said. “Girls love flowers, but not any kind, their favourite kind, that’s very important.”
“Yeah,” Anders agreed. “And you’re a pretty decent cook, aren’t you? So cook her dinner instead of taking her out, that shows you care, and girls find that romantic as fuck.”
“And jewelry,” Bails tacked on. “It sounds cliché, but they really do love it, if it’s good. Don’t get what you like, you have to get what they’d like, even if you don’t understand it. And for the love of God, there is a huge difference between yellow gold and white gold and do not make that mistake.”
Anthony blinked back at him as he nodded, “right, got it, thanks.”
“And don’t forget the condom,” Anders added with a wink and teasing smile that made Anthony rest his forehead against the table with a groan.
“One time,” he grumbled to himself. “One fucking time…”
“One time too many,” Mat cackled as he shook Anthony’s shoulder.
Once he got back to the hotel room, he stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed and Anthony looked up jewelry stores and florists between texts to Tess while Friends played in the background. He had always liked the show, but now it was an ever present reminder of her that made him love it so much more.
Planning the perfect Valentine’s Day kept him up at night and, despite his earlier promise to Anders, it took him longer than he wanted to admit to find his legs during the game the next day, but he finally came up with a plan and he only hoped it would live up to her expectations.
Luckily, the Islanders were home for Valentine’s Day, so the day began like any other: Tess wrapped up in his arms. Sure, she had her own room and own bed, but the only place Anthony wanted her was his arms. Once he knew how perfectly she fit in them, he’d never be able to let her go. So, Valentine’s Day began with Tess waking with her face pressed into Anthony’s chest and his arms wrapped around her and she smiled as she tried to snuggle closer. He had always been the best teddy bear she could ever ask for and she felt rather than heard Anthony’s laugh as he tightened his hold on her.
“Good morning,” he breathed, his voice thick with sleep.
“Shh, sleeping,” she mumbled and buried her face into further his chest, making Anthony laugh harder as he trailed his hand up and down her back.
“Okay,” he hummed. Tess made a soft sound against his chest and he tightened his hold on her. Perfect wasn’t a good enough word to describe her, she was his everything. His past, his present, his hope for the future, his family, his everything. All that he was began and ended with Tess. And Valentine’s Day meant a day off, so he was more than happy to stay wrapped up in Tess’s arms as long as she’d allow, or as long as Sorel would allow.
Which, of course, is exactly how the morning went.
He didn’t know how long they stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms before Sorel’s crying came through the monitor, but it wasn’t long enough. He loved Sorel more than he had words to describe, but sometimes all he wanted as an extra five minutes with her mom. They had spent longer, much longer, as friends and parents than they were as a couple and Anthony was desperate for any moment alone they could steal.
He hated jostling Tess when Sorel cried, but he knew it was long past her normal wake up time and she needed to be changed and feed. He murmured an apology when Tess groaned as he slipped out of bed before he went to get Sorel, and by the time he emerged from her room in a clean diaper and outfit, Tess was up. Her hair was messy and fluffy, and she had a sleepy smile on her lip and his shirt dwarfed her frame, all of which made Anthony’s heart flutter.
“Sit,” he told her and put Sorel in her highchair. “I will make you coffee and breakfast.” He smiled before he kissed her cheek and directed her to a chair at the island.
It didn’t take long for her coffee to finish brewing and he added the milk and sugar before he slid it across the table and started making his own. “Bacon and eggs?” He asked. “Or maybe waffles and berries?” He smiled when Tess’s face light up and reached under the island to find the waffle iron. He couldn’t remember the last time he used it and he hoped it still worked as he pulled it in and gathered the ingredients for waffles, and he gave Tess a hard look she tried to get up to get the fruit from the fridge.
He prepared the berries and fruit after he mixed the batter and the waffles didn’t take long after he added them to the iron. He added strawberries and blueberries to Tess’s plate, along with a mountain of whipped cream that made her laugh and he stole a kiss as he sat it down in front of her.
“Thank you, it looks amazing,” she smiled back at him.
“Not as amazing as you,” he replied without missing a beat and his smile widened as she blushed, and when his own waffled was ready, he added strawberries and banana.
Anthony tisked Tess when she reached for the dishes after breakfast. Today was her day, one of them at least, and he wouldn’t have her lift a finger, and he was in the middle of dishes when the florist knocked at the door.
The knock at the door surprised Tess and she furrowed her brows as she looked at Anthony but he did his best to shrug her off. “Can you get it?” He asked and she nodded before making her way over.
As soon as she answered the door, she was faced with a delivery boy and a large bouquet of flowers. “Delivery for Tessa?” He said with a smile.
“Uh, yeah, that would be me,” she replied with a confused expression and the guy handed her the big bouquet of flowers to her before he wished her a happy Valentine’s Day and got on his way. Tess was frozen for a moment as she held the flowers close to her before she took a deep breath in and her smile grew as she closed the door when she was able to give them a good look and smell. It was a bouquet of pink and red roses and lilies and other filler flowers and soft green leaves around the edges and, of course, beautiful white orchids.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he told her softly as he leaned against the counter and his shoulders softened at the way she smiled when she finally looked up at him.
“They’re beautiful,” she told him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied and pushed himself off the counter to step closer to her. “But they’re not as beautiful as you.” Tess opened her mouth to argue but he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “They’re not,” he repeated.
His smile grew at Tess’s blush and he got her a vase for her flowers so they could sit in the middle of the island, and they were more than happy to spend the afternoon together watching Sorel’s favourite TV shows and playing her favourite games. They were a family. Forever and always, they were a family.
When it was time, Anthony pulled everything out and started to prepared dinner before Tess could ever ask, and maybe pinot noir wasn’t the best pairing in the cookbook, but it was Tess’s favourite and her smile meant everything to him. He made her garlic parmesan chicken breasts with steamed veggies for a side. He wanted to refuse her help, wanted to make it special for her by doing everything for her, but he gave in every time she gave him her puppy dog eyes so he let her prep the veggies while he did the chicken and he couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it was to work around each other in the kitchen and how mundane it was.
Finally, the dinner was severed and Anthony smiled as he moved everything to the table. “After you,” he said and only took for himself after Tess had served herself and Sorel. And, to only mild surprise, the dinner was actually really good and Tess couldn’t stop shaking her head as she smiled.
“What?” Anthony asked with a soft laugh.
“I’m just really happy,” she told him. “I can’t count the times I thought about us spending Valentine’s Day with you and now it’s really happening.”
Anthony softened as he looked at her before he raised his glass of wine. “To us,” he said and smiled as she raised her glass too.
“To us,” she echoed and clinked her glass against his.
The rest of dinner was nice. Anthony talked about the roadie and his week ahead while Tess spoke of her plans with Connor and Anthony helped Sorel with her dinner which always made Tess look at him with soft, loving eyes.
Tess fell in love with Anthony years ago, but it was a totally different, deeper love watching him with Sorel. She always knew he’d be a good father, but it was something else entirely seeing how amazing a dad he really was. For so long, Tess had dreamt of having a family with him that it felt surreal to actually have it. There was so much love in her eyes watching him feed Sorel with a smile on his face and Tess meant every word when she said she had never been so happy in her life.
She finally had everything she could ever want.
After dinner, Tess tried to help with dishes but Anthony refused her help. So, instead she played with Sorel on her play mat while Anthony finished the dishes and then they started getting her ready for bed. Tess would have bathed her, but it was Valentine’s Day and dinner had been later than usual and Tess didn’t want to keep her up later than usual. Sorel really took after her dad and could get really cranky when she was tired so, yeah, her bath could wait till tomorrow.
Once Sorel was down, Tess changed into something more comfortable—one of Anthony’s old Islanders shirts and some sleep shorts—and she didn’t think twice about curling up next to him on the couch.
“I’ve never been a huge Valentine’s Day person,” he confessed softly.
“I know,” Tess replied and looked over at him. She had seen him through multiple girlfriends, as painful as it had been, and it had always been about what they wanted rather than about them.
“But I get it now,” he told her. “I like being your Valentine.”
Tess ducked her head as she leaned into him. “I really like being your Valentine, too, Anthony. I really like you,” she teased and Anthony kissed her temple before he gently carded his fingers through the ends of her curls, and he murmured an apology as his fingers tangled in her hair before he pressed another kiss to his temple.
When he pulled back, he held her eyes, her beautiful coffee eyes he fell in love with, before he whispered, “I got you something. I’ll just be a second while I get it.” Tess’s brows furrowed as she watched him get up and disappear into his room, but he came back a moment later with a big red gift bag and Tess’s shoulders relaxed.
“You didn’t have to,” she said softly.
Anthony gave her an almost offended look and handed her the bag before he sat back down next to her. “Like I’d fuck up our first Valentine’s Day,” he scoffed. “Now go on, open it.”
Tess laughed softly but opened the bag and she was surprised at everything in it. “Anth—“ she started but Anthony waved her off.
“C’mon, open it,” he encouraged.
Her eyes shined and the corner of her lips twitched up as she nodded and started to pull everything Anthony had stuffed into the bag. First there was a candle that smelt like vanilla. Then there was a set of bath bombs that Tess definitely didn’t think about using with Anthony and blushed when she sat them down on the coffee table. There were two sets of chocolates, and a Tiffany’s box. Just like the bracelet and the ring before, Tess’s breath caught in her throat and she looked up at Anthony. He worried his lip between his teeth but nodded and Tess looked down as she opened it and her smile softened immediately.
Had had gotten her a bracelet and a ring, it was only fitting that he got her earrings too. They were simple and beautiful, small silver, or maybe white gold, hoops with dangling pear diamonds.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
Her heart twisted knowing she hadn’t gotten him anything thinking he didn’t care about Valentine’s Day and she put the earrings down to hug him, pressing her face into his neck as she tried to pour her love for him into the hug. Anthony’s eyes closed as he melted into the hug and he buried his face into her hair. “You’re welcome,” he breathed.
Tess pulled back from the hug after a moment and cupped his jaw to kiss him softly. “You’re making me feel terrible for not getting you anything,” she told him but Anthony shook his head.
“You’re the only gift I could ever want,” he told her and kissed her again.
Tess’s thumb ran over the arch of his cheek and she couldn’t stop smiling as she pulled back from the kiss and Anthony was so incredibly in love with her. Sure, they had only really been together for a handful of weeks, but they had been friends for years and he honestly couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Tess continued to run her thumb over his cheek and the soft look in his eyes stirred something in her. Her eyes dropped to his lips and she leaned into him before kissing him again, deeper than before. Anthony was taken back but he quickly melted into the kiss and let his hand rest on her hip.
He didn’t expect the kiss to last long so he let her control it, but Tess didn’t pull back. Maybe it was the wine or the gifts or the fact that it was Valentine’s Day, or maybe it was just Anthony, but Tess didn’t want to stop and when Anthony broke the kiss, she quickly chased his lips and kissed him again. Anthony made a soft sound against her lips that sent a wave of heat through her body and Tess pressed herself closer to him, as close as she could be still sitting next to him.
Anthony kept waiting for her to pull back but she didn’t. Instead, she threaded her fingers through his hair and let her chest rest against his. She wasn’t wearing a bra, she never really had to, so Anthony could feel her breasts and the hardness of her nipples against him and he couldn’t get enough. His neck strained as he deepened the kiss and Tess made a soft sound against his lips that had his hand moving from her hip to her thigh as he pulled her onto his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs bracing her weight as her hips rested against his.
Tess broke the kiss with a gasp and looked at Anthony with wide eyes. “Sorry… Is this okay?” He asked, letting his hands rest on the bare skin of her thighs, terrified he had read her signals wrong and had gone too far.
It took Tess a moment to answer as her heart raced and her lips parted as she looked at him. He was warm beneath her and she settled her weight on his lap before she ran her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Yeah,” she nodded and kissed him again, pulling a soft groan from him.
Anthony let her control the kiss for a moment before he deepened it and pulled her hips flush against his and Tess couldn’t help the moan that slipped from her lips. It was the first time he heard her moan and it went straight to his groin and he wanted to pull more beautiful sounds from her. When she didn’t pull back from the kiss, he let his hands move to her ass and he gently kneaded the soft flesh. It would be so easy to grip her ass as she—
He shook the thought from his head as he nipped at her lip and moved his hands up to her waist. Her skin was warm and she kissed him again just as deeply as before which only spurred him on as he trailed his hands higher on her rib before he broke the kiss to trail his lips down her jaw. Never in his life had he wanted someone as badly as he wanted her and Tess threaded her fingers through his hair and titled her head to the side to give him move room as she moaned softly.
Anthony felt himself start to harden and in the back of his head he knew they should stop and talk about it. Fuck, he didn’t even know if this was something she had done before, but Tess wasn’t stopping him and he didn’t want to stop. All he wanted her.
His lips found where her jaw met her throat and he grazed his teeth over her skin before he sucked softly but not hard enough to leave a mark and he hadn’t realized his hands were moving up until the tips of his fingers brushed the underside of her breasts. Tess’s grip on his hair tightened and she tensed, pulling him from his thoughts and Anthony immediately moved his hands back down to her waist and leaned back to look at her. “I’m sorry,” he told her, his jaw slack and eyes dark.
Her chest heaved and her heart raced but she shook her head. “It’s okay.”
As much as it killed him, Anthony said, “we should stop.”
“No, Anthony, it’s okay,” she told him.
Anthony’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at her and the look in his eyes sent a wave of heat to her core where she could feel him beneath her. “You sure?” He asked breathlessly and Tess nodded, a soft throbbing starting between her thighs as Anthony held her gaze and trailed his hands back up.
He let the tips of his fingers brush the bottoms of her breasts for a few moments before he slid his hands up to cup her chest. Her breasts fit in the palms of his hands and her nipples were hard but not as hard as he was. He swore he had never been so hard in his life and Tess could feel every inch of him through his sweats and the thin material of her sleep shorts.
“Okay?” He asked breathlessly and Tess nodded.
“Yeah,” she replied shakily.
Anthony gave both of them a minute as he held her chest in his hands, feeling her heart racing against his touch. Tess’s chest heaved against him and his lips were parted as he held her gaze before he pinched her nipples between his fingers.Her eyes closed as she moaned louder than before and Anthony was addicted to the sound. His bottom lip was red and worn and a moan slipped from his lips when Tess rolled her hips into his. “Fuck, Tessa,” he said breathlessly and rolled her nipples between his fingers.
Anthony had always stirred something in Tess but he was doing a lot more than just stirring and she couldn’t get enough of him. She had been terrified that it wouldn’t be good, that it would be awkward, but she was wrong. It was amazing having Anthony touch her. Her hair was a mess as she arched into him and when she ground her hips against his, she pulled a strained groan from him that made clench around nothing.
The more Anthony pinched her nipples, the louder her moans got and it was the hottest thing Anthony had ever heard and he wanted nothing more than to take her apart and see how loud he could make her. But Sorel’s room wasn’t all that far away and they couldn’t wake her. “Tessa,” Anthony breathed. “I need you to quiet a bit.”
Her hips immediately stilled and she looked at him with flushed cheeks, “fuck, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Anthony replied immediately and pinched her nipples again, pulling a sharp gasp from her. “I just don’t want to stop so please don’t wake Ellie.”
Tess knew he was right, but it was so hard for her to be quiet when he was touching her like that and she could feel how much he wanted her. She rolled her hips down against his, creating beautiful friction which pulled a loud moan from her and Anthony tried to quiet her with his lips but he just ended up moaning against her.
Slowly he broke the kiss to kiss down her neck again as he pinched her nipples, pulling another moan from her and he was about to ask to take her shirt off so he could see her as well as he could feel her when the sharp sound of Sorel’s cries cut through the room.
“Fuck,” Anthony cursed and leaned his head against Tess’s shoulder with a groan before he let his hands fall to her hips. He was finally going to have her and of course Sorel had to ruin it. “Maybe she’ll cry herself out?” He tried and Tess nodded. But no matter how long they sat there, Sorel didn’t stop crying so Tess slowly untangled herself from him with a sigh.
Her hair was messy and her skin flushed and all Anthony wanted to do was ruin her.
“I’ll get her,” she told Anthony and gave his thigh a pat before she made her way to Sorel’s room, leaving Anthony alone on the couch. He ran his hand over his face as he sunk into the couch, his desire for her clearly visible through his sweats. He had been cock blocked before, but never like this.
And Sorel was usually so good so he expected it would be a quick check in and put down, but the minutes ticked by and Tess didn’t come back out. Anthony groaned and threw his head back against the couch before he got up to check on them, after he adjusted himself of course.
He found Tess swaying with Sorel in her arms while Sorel gripped her shirt tightly. “She doesn’t want to let go,” Tess sighed as she looked over at Anthony.
“You were pretty loud,” he replied softly. “Maybe… Maybe she thought I was hurting you?”
Tess couldn’t help but burst out in laughter as she blushed, but it… It wasn’t that far fetched at all. Ever since they got together and Anthony had been showing more affection toward Tess, Sorel had been getting fussy with Anthony and pushing him away, so it wouldn’t be that hard to fathom that Sorel did think he was hurting her mom… Even if he was doing the opposite.
Anthony sighed and stepped forward to take her from Tess, even if he had to gently pry her fingers from Tess’s shirt. “Daddy wasn’t hurting mommy, okay? Now why don’t you go back to sleep so mommy and daddy can go back to what they were doing.”
“Anthony!” Tess scolded as she gave him a pointed look but he just shrugged. And, of course, Sorel only cried louder as Anthony held her and reached her hand out to Tess until she took her back.
It took them too long to get Sorel back down, she really didn’t want to let go of Tess, but once her door was closed behind them, Anthony let his hand trail down Tess’s back as he bit his lip. “So…” he started. “Where were we?”
Tess took a deep breath and scrunched her nose up before she looked up at him and she didn’t have to say anything for him to know the moment was long gone. “It’s late,” Tess told him. “Tonight was fun, but I’m tired and honestly I think I’m getting a headache from the crying and I just want to go to bed.”
Anthony took a deep breath as he nodded, “yeah, yeah, of course.”
Tess gave him a soft smile and kissed the corner of his mouth before she gave his chest a pat and went to brush her teeth, and Anthony flopped onto the couch with a groan as soon as she closed the door.
He loved his daughter dearly, but fuck.
It had been over a year since the last time he got any and it was Tess and he could still feel her on his lap, the warmth of her against where he needed her most, and how perfect her breasts were in his hands. Tess was perfect, he had always known that, but feeling her, hearing her, having her like that… He hadn’t realized how truly perfect she was and—
“Are you okay?” Tess asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Huh?” He replied, looking up at her like a deer in headlights.
Tess laughed and gave his thigh a pat as she sat down next to him. “I asked if you were okay because you were staring out into space,” she said.
“Oh,” he replied softly. “Yeah, I’m good. I mean, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little… frustrated, but yeah, I’m good.”
Tess blushed and looked down as she fiddled with her shirt. “Sorry…” she said softly but Anthony shook his head.
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” he told her. “We tested the waters tonight and it was good, right?”
Tess nodded, “yeah.”
“Then we’re good. And you should never apologize for being as hot as you are. If anything, I should be the one apologizing because I’m probably going to end up hard against your ass tonight.”
He made Tess laugh at least and she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you,” she told him after a long moment.
Anthony softened and wrapped his arm around her, “I love you more.”
“Not possible,” she told him and kissed him before he could argue. Anthony melted into the kiss and gently cupped her cheek. She could disagree with him all she wanted but Anthony had never love anyone the way he loved her and he knew he’d never love anyone else the same way.
It was Tess for him.
It was always going to be Tess,
His Tess.
She bit her lip when she pulled back from the kiss and Anthony tilted his head as he looked at her, knowing she had something in mind and already feeling like he wasn’t going to like it. “Tess—” he started but she cut him off as she patted his thigh.
“We need to tell our parents about us.”
Anthony’s groan may have even been louder than her moans and he leaned over to press his face into her lap, “please don’t talk about my mother when I’m still hard.”
Tess’s laugh warmed his chest and she gently carded her fingers through his hair. “Sorry,” she whispered. “But we do, you know we do.”
“I know,” he sighed and rolled onto his back to look up at her. “You know they’ll never let us hear the end of this, right?”
Tess breathed a laugh and let her hand rest on his chest and Anthony was quick to cover it with his own. “I know. But we need to tell them before they figure it out themselves, and my mom’s gonna know the moment she sees us. Connor did.”
Anthony ran his thumb over her knuckles as he gave her a lopsided smile, “love me that much, huh?” He laughed when she scrunched her nose up and when she shoved his chest, he tightened his hold on her hand and leaned up to catch her lips in a soft kiss. “I love you that much, too, Tessa.”
She scrunched her nose up again at the use of her full name and to still the butterflies he still gave her. “So, we’ll tell them then?” She pressed.
“How about we tell yours and leave mine till the summer?” He tried and Tess shook her head.
“Mine first, but we’re not waiting till June to tell your family. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with your parents.”
Anthony scoffed and pushed himself up to sit beside her, his hand on her thigh. “Please,” he started. “My mom loves you almost as much as I do. I could tell her we eloped and she’d just be happy to have you in the family.” Tess could see the gears begin to turn behind Anthony’s eyes and he continued, “now that I say it, we should wait until—”
“Absolutely not,” she cut him off. “We’ll tell my mom first then you’re calling your parents to tell them.”
“What if I send her a picture and turn my phone off?” He suggested, though mostly just to rile her up some more, finding her persistence adorable.
“What if I didn’t kiss you until you told your parents?” Tess replied without missing a beat and bit her lip as she looked over at Anthony, proud of herself.
“You wouldn’t,” he breathed as his face dropped. He was right, she wouldn’t. Now that she had had a taste of him, she didn’t she’d ever be able to give him up. But Tess shrugged and Anthony made a strained sound in his throat before he pulled her back onto his lap and kissed her again. “Now that I’ve had you, I can’t go a day without you, so, okay. We’ll call my mom after we tell yours.”
Tess’s smile lit up his whole world and when she kissed the corner of his mouth, he cupped her jaw and redirected her so he could kiss her properly and deeply. She made a soft sound against his lips and fisted his shirt as she felt him again. “Anthony,” she breathed a warning and he pressed his face into her shoulder with a groan.
“I know, I know. I can’t help it,” he told her. “You just do things to me.”
She blushed as she shook her head before she patted his shoulder and pulled back to sit beside him. “TV until your friend calms down and then bed,” she told him and reached for the remote. “We’ll tell my mom the next time we see her.”
Anthony rolled his eyes but nodded, “fine.”
And he was right, even after watching TV he ended up hard against Tess’s ass that night and the next morning, but this time he didn’t pull back and Tess didn’t get flustered or push him away.
---
Tess was right, Lisa knew as soon as she saw them.
It was on Anthony’s face.
It had always been in his eyes. The last couple times they had come over, he had looked at Tess with hope and possibility, but this time… This time it was different. He held the door open for her and let his hand rest on her lower back as they toed their shoes off, and his touch lingered as Tess stepped toward Lisa with Sorel in her arms, and she just had a funny suspicion.
“How’s my grandbaby?” Lisa asked as she took Sorel from her daughter and Anthony ducked his head as he smiled.
Sorel giggled and Tess smiled before she glanced back at Anthony for a moment. “She’s good. Been having some issues sleeping through the night, but she’s good,” Tess replied and blushed softly as she remembered the exact reason Sorel hadn’t slept through the night the week before.
Lisa kissed both of Sorel’s cheeks as they moved into the living room. “Issues sleeping, baby girl?” She asked Sorel in a playful voice that made her laugh again. “What kind of issues?”
“Wake up in the night, crying, that sort of thing,” Tess shrugged as she sat down on the couch and Anthony sat down next to her and gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze, though whether he was reassuring her or himself was up for debate.
“Oh,” Lisa hummed as she looked at Sorel. “Have you tried putting socks on her for bed?” She asked and looked back at Tess and Anthony.
Tess looked over at Anthony and he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “No, we haven’t,” he replied. “But we certainly will,” he quickly added. “Thank you.”
Lisa pressed another kiss to Sorel’s cheeks and looked back at her daughter and Anthony. They were sitting closer together than normal and his hand rested on her thigh and Tess didn’t knock it away or seemed to have a dark blush to her cheeks like she’d always get. She watched as Tess pushed her hair behind her ears, a long time anxious habit, and Anthony looked over at Tess at the movement.
Lisa had seen Anthony look at her daughter a lot. She had watched his gaze go from friends to something else; watched as his eyes went from hope and possibility to confidence and sure. His thumb rubbed soft circles on her thigh and the corner of his lip twitched up as he looked at her even though Tess wasn’t looking back at him, and Lisa watched as his gaze dipped down to Tess’s lips for half a moment and his smile grew.
Lisa smiled as she settled Sorel on her lap. “So how long have you two been together?” She asked, making Anthony’s head whip toward her and neither of them had to say anything for her suspicions to be confirmed, Anthony’s deer in headlights look said it all.
Slowly, Anthony looked back at Tess and she covered his hand with hers as she smiled before she looked back at her mom. “Almost a month,” she answered, making Lisa’s smile grow.
She always knew her daughter’s feelings for Anthony, Tess had had them for years. If she was being honest, she wasn’t always fond of Anthony with him being a hot shot hockey player and all. She was terrified that he was going to break her daughter’s heart beyond repair, but she had to admit that he had really proven her wrong over the years and she was glad he did. She was happy for them.
“We came here to tell you, but…” Tess continued and looked at Anthony. “You kinda figured it out.”
“Anthony kinda made it obvious,” Lisa laughed and scrunched her nose up as Tess gave Anthony a playful shove that made Tess’s smile grow.
“I knew it,” Tess muttered and Anthony smiled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“No, you didn’t, you thought you’d give it away,” he replied as his smile widened.
“Shut up,” she muttered and leaned into him in a way that definitely said she wasn’t mad at him.
“I’m very happy for you,” Lisa told them. “The two of you…” She glanced at Sorel before looking back at them. “You’re good for each other.”
“I try to be,” Anthony replied without hesitation. “I just want to look after my girls.”
Lisa’s smile softened as she looked at him and she kissed Sorel’s cheek before she set her down on the carpet and Anthony gave Tess an unsure look as Lisa disappeared into the kitchen, but Tess could only shrug. She didn’t know either. Lisa was only gone a moment before she came back with a bottle of wine and three glasses. “This calls for celebration,” she grinned as she set the glasses and bottle down on the coffee table and Tess pressed her face into Anthony’s shoulder as she groaned. “Well, it’s not every day my daughter starts dating an NHL player.”
“Mom, please,” Tess begged and Anthony gently ran his hand up and down her back.
“What?” She asked as she poured the wine and handed the glasses to them before she settled back into her chair with her glass and crossed her legs. “Can a mother not be happy for her daughter? And come on, I want all the details.”
Anthony laughed at the very large drink of wine Tess took and kissed her temple. “There’s not much to say,” he answered for her. “It was after Ellie’s birthday and I couldn’t stop looking at her and I just couldn’t keep my feelings to myself any longer.” His gaze softened as he looked over at Tess and she smiled despite the blush clinging to her cheeks.
They continued talking over their glasses of wine while Sorel played on the floor, and it honestly didn’t take long before Anthony ended up on the floor with her, managing only a few sips of wine between Sorel and the conversation. And once it was time for Sorel’s afternoon nap, Lisa headed to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner while Tess took Sorel up for her nap.
Anthony followed Lisa, picking up his and Tess’s glasses along the way. He was happy to help however he could and he washed the veggies as Lisa pulled everything else out. She thanked Anthony as she took the veggies from him but shooed him away when he tried to help.
She had just started to half the cherry tomatoes when Anthony took it upon himself to refill her wine glass and Lisa gave him a soft smile before she put her knife down and turned to him. Anthony’s smile slipped at her expression and he put the bottle down before he leaned back against the counter. “I meant it when I said I was happy for you two,” she started, making Anthony take a breath, sensing a ‘but’. “But she’s still my daughter, and without her father…” Lisa sighed before she shook her head and pushed her chin back up. “If you hurt her, I will kill you.”
Anthony breathed a small laugh and nodded. “If I hurt her, I’d let you,” he told her honestly. “But I don’t intend to do that, I promise.” He looked down at his hands as his smile softened. “I’ve never felt this way before, and I know we’ve only been together for a month, but I mean it when I tell you that I hope to marry her one day.”
Lisa softened and she nodded as she stepped closer to him and she gently squeezed his shoulder, “I hope you do, too. But that doesn’t change my warning. I like you, more than I ever thought I would actually, but she’s my little girl.”
His expression softened as he nodded. “I know,” he whispered. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Good,” Lisa nodded and squeezed his shoulder again. She knew he meant it when he said he wanted to marry Tess, she could see it in his eyes, and though it was early, she meant it when she said she hoped he would. She could still remember the first time she realized she wanted to marry Tess’s father and her heart ached as she pulled back from him.
“And while I have you, don’t get me wrong I love Ellie, but I do hope that you and Tess are using protection. I’m not ready for another grandbaby,” she continued and Anthony’s eyes bugged as he flushed and he opened and closed his mouth as he looked at her, struggling to find his voice as Lisa turned back to preparing dinner.
And, naturally, that was when Tess stepped into the kitchen and she slowed in her steps as she took in her boyfriend’s flushed appearance before she looked to her mother. “What are you two talking about?” She asked slowly, not sure if she really wanted to know.
Lisa gave her an innocent smile that made Tess’s heart drop to her stomach. “I was just making sure you two were using protection,” she replied simply and Tess felt her heartbeat in her ears as she blushed.
“Mom,” she said sharply.
“What?” Lisa asked with a shrug. “One grandbaby is enough for at least another year. Then maybe you two could start trying for another. You don’t want to have them too far apart in age, you know.”
“Mom,” Tess begged, unable to look in Anthony’s direction, but Lisa’s smile only grew and she watched her daughter carefully as Anthony reached out to pull her close and Tess pressed her face into his chest, unable to meet either his or her mother’s gaze.
Young love, Lisa couldn’t help but think to herself. Such a beautiful and precious thing.
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