i made a bad decision once

this is a hockey imagine exchange, meant for reader insert or OC fics (not player/player)

if you signed up for the summer fic exchange 2k24 and did not finish a fic you are not eligible for this exchange without chatting to me first

if you signed up for the summer fic exchange 2k24 and did not reblog the fic written for you, you are not eligible for this exchange. you can go reblog said fic and show your appreciation right now, and then sign up

the minimum word count is 1500 words

no multi-chaptered fics allowed. whatever you do with the fic after (i.e. if it becomes a series) is fine, but the fic posted for the exchange must be a standalone fic.

there’s no requirement to have written x number of fics prior to signing up

if you change your URL at any point after you’ve signed up, please let me know so that your sign up doesn’t get lost. this ideally includes letting me know if it changes before the masterlist goes up

you do not have to be following me, but please check back occasionally between sign ups opening and matches being sent as there might be changes/updates

this is supposed to be fun. if you are going to be overwhelmingly stressed out about the writing process, due date or what people’s response will be to your fic then this isn’t for you. know your own limits.

any updates will be tagged with ‘the winter fic exchange 2k25’

you will need to allow anonymous messages once matches have gone out so that you can be asked questions. if you are unsure about how to change these settings, please let me know

i’m doing this by myself so don’t be a dick.

my DMs and ask box are always open (anons welcome!) if you have any questions.

you can sign up here.

explanation

this functions like secret santa/kris kringle, where people sign up and are then provided a person they will be writing a fic for.

on the google form linked above, you will fill in a bunch of information including players and genres/themes you like to read about and players you like to write about—i then do my absolute best to match these up with each other so that people are receiving what they want and writing within their comfort limits.

there are also spaces to tell me genres and players you want nothing to do with, so that i won’t pair you up with a person who exclusively writes things you aren’t interested in.

this is a hockey imagine exchange, meant for reader insert or OC fics (not player/player)

if you signed up for the winter fic exchange 2k24 and did not finish a fic you are not eligible for this exchange without chatting to me first

if you signed up for the winter fic exchange 2k24 and did not reblog the fic written for you, you are not eligible for this exchange. you can go reblog said fic and show your appreciation right now, and then sign up.

the minimum word count is 1500 words

no multi-chaptered fics allowed. whatever you do with the fic after (i.e. if it becomes a series) is fine, but the fic posted for the exchange must be a standalone fic.

there’s no requirement to have written x number of fics prior to signing up

if you change your URL at any point after you’ve signed up, please let me know so that your sign up doesn’t get lost. this ideally includes letting me know if it changes before the masterlist goes up

you do not have to be following me, but please check back occasionally between sign ups opening and matches being sent as there might be changes/updates

this is supposed to be fun. if you are going to be overwhelmingly stressed out about the writing process, due date or what people’s response will be to your fic then this isn’t for you. know your own limits.

any updates will be tagged with ‘the summer fic exchange 2k24’

you will need to allow anonymous messages once matches have gone out so that you can be asked questions. if you are unsure about how to change these settings, please let me know

i am doing this by myself so don’t be a dick.

my DMs and ask box are always open (anons welcome!) if you have any questions.

you can sign up here.

Explanation

this functions like secret santa/kris kringle, where people sign up and are then provided a person they will be writing a fic for.

on the google form linked above, you will fill in a bunch of information including players and genres you like to read about and players you like to write about—i then do my absolute best to match these up with each other so that people are receiving what they want and writing within their comfort limits.

there are also spaces to tell me genres and players you want nothing to do with, so that i won’t pair you up with a person who exclusively writes things you aren’t interested in.

Lina never imagined that she be living the dream in New York City, especially since her dreams of staying out in the big city upon finishing her internship with her mentor never came true. Instead, she found herself dreaming of what life in the big city could be for her, working in a bakery out in Boston honing her skills and surprisingly making herself seemingly at home. She had been referred for the position by her mentor despite his own wants to let the young chef go. Working her way into management and securing respect and acknowledgement in the pastry world. All an up-and-coming pastry chef could ask for. It wasn’t until during a prep day that her boss mentioned a position that she was put into consideration for that would lead her back to the city of her dreams and training not only as a baker but rather the head baker of the newest branch of the bakery she’d happily called home for the last three years.

However, as stood in the commercial kitchen under bright cool lights, being able to say she ran the little bakery on the island, she couldn’t help but pat herself on the back. The nerves had initially consumed her and although her boss and the owner of the bakery had been around for training of staff, prepping for the opening and the grand opening itself. Almost as soon as the store was open and running within the week, she was then solely in charge. It was days like this, however, that she loved the most. Mornings where she was able to get back into the very reason why she got into baking in the first place. It was a time when she could take a moment to herself and just breathe. Especially on a day like today when she had a big order to fill out, for none other than one of her newest friends in the neighbourhood.

Lina’s eyes flitted towards the clock, keenly aware that it was fast approaching time to slip the decorated sign on the door and let customers know that they were open. She had since been joined by two baristas and two of the bakers who were due to take over from her once the store opened up whilst she got her deliveries done before working through paperwork. The shout from one of the aforementioned baristas shook her out of her haze as she iced the cookies in front of her. Calling out for a moment, she finished up the cookie she was decorating before placing the pining bag down and reaching for the dishtowel. 

Walking out into the front, she sent a smile to the two college students who were pulling down chairs and wiping tables before her eyes landed on a familiar head of hair tapping their fingers against her counter. Pulling a face of confusion, she moved towards him dropping the dishtowel.

“We’re not open yet.” She spoke before crossing her arms as he turned towards her. A smile that she could only describe as cheeky sat on his lips as he gave her a little shrug before leaning towards her.

“I was told to pick up a cookie deliver. Sydney’s orders,” He spoke with amusement filling his words, “There’s no saying no to that woman.”

“Mat, Syd’s order is set for delivery.” She wasn’t quite sure if she believed in what he was saying but it wasn’t in her nature to be unkind.

Lina had met Mat by chance and obviously all thanks to the woman currently in question. Sydney and a couple of the other wives and girlfriends of the Islanders had dropped by for a coffee date from which Sydney had made it her newest spot and was happily welcomed by the bakery’s staff as a regular. The more time Sydney spent in the establishment, the more opportunities she got to speak with young women and truly it was hard to say no to that woman. Before she knew it, she was being invited to dinners, and girls’ nights – she had even frequented hockey games which was something she hadn’t done since she was in culinary school. The late nights of the games just didn’t align with the early morning that was required of her at the store. It was one of the rare late nights she had free when she was invited by Sydney to a dinner party at the Martin residence and she had run into Mat. The story according to Syd was that Mat was only invited because of a recent break-up and them wanting him to be around people who loved him and wanted nothing but happiness for him. It, and Lina will quote, “is not a matchmaking setup” like other introductions to Sydney’s male friends of the same age as the baker had been.

The two had been seated next to one another and Mat’s glum mood had caught her attention. But not knowing anything of his current situation and maybe having had a little too much fun doing unplanned pres with the hostess with the mostess gifting her looser lips than normal, she had made a remark about his apparent brooding. A thought she assumed was just that but upon hearing the chatter quieten down a little, she realised her words most definitely left her mouth. Slowly lowering her glass to the table, she turned to apologise to the male beside her when the snort that he let out left her sorry and confused. It was all quickly replaced with intrigue when he shot back with a retort of his own, prompting the two adults into a comfortable and playful argument. It was that moment where instead of anticipating the presence of a certain blonde every day, she noticed a certain brunet make a place for himself at the table closest to the counter by the display case.

The baker had been warned against Matt’s teammates but none other than Matt himself. She’d gotten the idea that Matt was keenly aware of his wife’s ability to befriend people and more importantly take them under her wing, if how quickly she was welcomed into the family dynamic of Martins was anything to go by. Regarding dating, who was she to question a man who spent most of his time with said teammates, she doubted she’d ever even meet and if she ever did, so many faces pass through her doors, she wouldn’t even remember them. Which is why the hockey player who had chosen to make himself a fixture had initially garnered a little apprehension from her but without fail, he always came in and grabbed a coffee (and a cake on those days he chose to treat himself), his a seat and left when he was all done, never without a generous tip. He was kind enough to her staff and even kinder to the other regulars who were in at the same time as him, so she let him be. All business is good business, even though she knew for a fact there were coffee shops much closer to his apartment, the arena and even the practice facility. But who was she to complain.

She couldn’t remember when it started but she eventually started joining him when he’d visit in the mornings. Their chats were surprisingly something familiar, and comfortable, like talking to an old friend. They joked and teased but most of the time they just let go. It had been a couple weeks since they first met, and it wasn’t until the second week of them sharing a drink that he’d actually opened up about why he was looking so glum the night they had met and why he was hanging around her café. How he got her store details from Sydney and how he was drawn to the fact that she didn’t handle him as though he was fragile. How all he had wanted when it felt like someone he cared about deeply had uprooted him from his very foundation was normalcy. And that’s what Lina gave him. He was just another friend of a friend to her; he was just Mat to her. Not heartbroken Mat, not healing Mat, not even NHL superstar – Just Mat.

“Well, you’re not all that Mathew.” She had stated to which he could only respond with a soft ‘Exactly’. Ever since that moment, they had shared ample time with one another both in and outside of his coffee trips. And despite the time Mat has been spending within their four brick walls, it was still a surprise to see him at the store before opening.

“Can’t be, she sent me a frantic message at 7 telling me she needed a favour and who am I to fulfil my favourite uncle duties,” He explained before sending a wink her way, “Anything for Winnie.”

“Yeah, she lied to you,” She answered, giving him a double pat on the shoulder and a short cackle before moving over and opening the gate for the man, “One time only, might as well put you to work.”

The two of them made their way to the kitchen and while Mat went to wash his hands (not before Lina pointed a firm finger towards the sink to gently direct him to do so), Lina grabbed him a free apron and tossed it over his shoulder. Moving back to the station where the last of the cookies were waiting to be decorated and then packed away for delivery. 

“So, what can I do?” Mat slipped the apron over his head as he leaned over to observe the spread of baked goods before glancing back over at her. His confident smile slowly slipped off his face as she grabbed a piping bag and handed it over to him.

“I line, you flood.”

“Didn’t you train like three years for this?” Giving the bag a gentle squish and frowning when no icing flowed out.

“It’s basically impossible to mess it up, it’s like colour by numbers,” She explained softly as she grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the end of the piping bag while adjusting his hand to make sure no icing was wasted. Pulling the cookies, she was previously working on in front of him all lined and ready to fill in front of him, before gesturing towards the piping bag and gesturing back to the cookies. “Match the flood colour to the line colour. Winnie does it all the time.”

“While I know that’s not really true, the dig hurts.” His free hand flew up to his chest in mock hurt before laughing and finally putting icing to cookie with an almost amusing amount of concentration.

“Get filling pretty boy, I will not have my little princess disappointed.”

The two of them worked almost like a well-oiled machine. It almost felt like she was back in culinary school, helping out with the younger years. They weren’t always perfect, but their hearts were always in the right place and if there was one thing she had learnt about Mat was that his heart was always in the right place. Almost to a fault. The whole bravado he put on was more like a mask. At least in front of her. He never had any walls up with her, but he definitely had worn the walls she constructed when she moved down. She always knew that those walls had to come down eventually, but she definitely didn’t expect it would come from a chance encounter with a random stranger. The girls and her staff had done their fair share and warming her up and making her feel at home but the first time she ever truly let herself be with no pretences and no fears of being judged and not fitting in was sitting in the store over a cup of coffee with Mat.

Before long, all the cookies, cupcakes, and the grand finale cake of it all were packed into the refrigerated bakery van ready for transportation to the Martins' house, where preparations, if the texts and calls she had received from Sydney were anything to go by, were well underway.  Despite Mat’s pleas to drive, Lina kept a firm hold of the keys until they were safely parked in their friends’ driveway. Grabbing her garment bag from its place hanging in the backseat, she walked up to the front door. Mat’s knuckles were knocking against the wooden door as Lina reached him up on the front step. His eyes were drawn to the bag in her hand, and he couldn’t help but bring up his curiosity.

“What’s with the change of attire?” 

“As if I’m going to spend the rest of the day in clothing that’s covered in powdered sugar, flour and dried batter and dough. Plus, if I’m going to be around kids with surprisingly sticky hands, I’m going to start with a fresh slate.” Her words were light and humorous and before Mat could even attempt a response, the door opened and a hand was wrapped around Lina’s wrist, pulling her into the house quickly.

“Thank goodness you’re here, I need your help.” The blonde in front of her pulled her to the side before aggressively motioning to Mat who was still pulling his shoes off. He almost comically pointed to himself before looking behind him only to be physically pulled into their little huddle a second later, “There’s so much left to sort out and both Alice and Winnie want pancakes. Help Matty and I out?”

“Don’t think I’m your guy, I’mma just –“ 

“Of course we can help, go do what you need to do,” Lina responded, grabbing onto Mat’s arm before he walked away. Sydney gave her a smile and with a blown kiss, she was gone. Once her friend was out of view, Lina’s hand swung up to Mat’s shoulder, “Really?”

“What?” He was greeted simply with a shaken head as she slipped her own shoes off along with her jacket before she walked into the kitchen. Pouting at the lack of an answer, he followed her quickly “What?”

Mat watched as she made quick work of pulling out the necessary ingredients and equipment for the pancakes. Pulling up one of the bar stools, he settled into a routine that was very much a typical evening for them. Since he frequented the store so much, Lina had decided that for all the real estate he was taking away from her other customers, he had to give something back and that was how he became her official taste tester. Once, every other month they’d get together and along with a constantly refilled glass of wine (courtesy of Mat), she’d bake all her experimental recipes and flavour pairings on him. It was one of the things that she loved about him. She loved simply baking with no pressure of it being commercially viable and nothing is better than baking for someone who is more than happy to consume. Even if it means she has to put up with the constant whining about how her goods are going to make a certain someone work harder at the gym.

The two worked in a comfortable quiet, Mat had put music on the Alexa quiet enough not to disturb anything happening in the other parts of the house. Mat was picking at the tester pancake before he hopped off the stool and made his way over to the cupboard and pulled out the Nutella and a spoon, before settling himself beside the baker who was humming along to the music.

“What happened to all that ‘I’m a disciplined athlete’ talk?”

“I’m just a man and you’re out here teasing me with all those amazing treats you made me decorate and now you expect me to not have at least one spoonful of chocolatey goodness?” Forcefully scooping up a spoonful of said spread, her pointed it in her direction for a moment before shoving it in his mouth, “You have too much faith in me.”

“Oh, now that is pushing it,” She said flipping one of the pastries onto a plate before turning to face him as she poured more batter on the hot plate, “Would you please just cut some strawberries and stuff?”

Although it wasn’t without complaints, sure enough, they were working side by side. Lina flipping pancakes and Matt cutting strawberries into quarters as they quietly spoke about their weeks, catching each other up on their respective TV shows. 

“You know this is what I miss the most.” Lina hummed in question at his statement, only slightly inclining her head in his direction, “I miss just having someone to talk to. To exist with. To be with.”

Silence flooded through the pair as her head turned towards him as he continued chopping the fruit, a bittersweet smile on his face. She took a deep breath as she felt a wave of emotion flood through her as his words processed in her head. Her hand was on the dial, turning the heat off and placing the spatula down. Her words came out as an unsteady breath as she turned fully towards him.  “Oh Mat…” 

“I know I’ve already talked you to death about … that situation but –“ Mat lowered the knife but still made no effort to look in her direction and shook his head slightly before huffing out a quiet laugh,  “It’s not just that you didn’t treat me like I could break but the time we spent together, the conversations we had. It almost felt like having someone again. Except this time, it was in the shape of friend – someone I can’t lose. Until I kept getting to know how wonderful you are.”

The words to comfort the man in front of her were proving difficult to come by so Lina simply stepped towards him and did the only thing she could think of, wrapped her arms around him. With one arm around his back and the other holding onto his arm, she laid her head on his arm and gave him a gentle squeeze.

“I’ve done the whole break up thing before I don’t know why this time it was difficult. I guess I got too comfortable with the wrong person, I don’t know but I know it was wrong now. I knew it was wrong the moment I had coffee with you for the first time because you made me feel more heard and all you were doing was entertaining a customer who wouldn’t leave your store.” She couldn’t help the laugh that left her, giving him a whole-body nudge and shaking her head as it pressed against his bicep muttering a soft ‘not true’.

Lina felt Mat’s head move to look towards her, moving her own to look up at him but keeping him in her soft hug. She would never admit it to him, considering the subconscious promise she made to herself upon finding out he was still working through his breakup. Their eyes met and he couldn’t help the smile that floated onto his lips until a little embarrassment covered his face,  “Sydney didn’t tell me to come and collect Win’s treats, I just hoped if I turned up, I wouldn’t have to share your attention with your customers.” 

“I’ve told you before Mathew you never have to be jealous of customers taking me away from you. I’ll always be there for you,” She muttered, pulling away before turning him until they were chest to chest, “I know we joke but I truly will always be there for you. Maybe covered in icing but always there.”

“And I you,” At his words, she wrapped her arms around his neck giving him a proper hug.

Inhaling deeply, she felt him do the same as his arms wrapped firmly around her trapping her between them, not that she was complaining. Her mind rushed through the past couple weeks of her life since meeting the man and she couldn’t believe just how close and open she had got with him. There were people she’d met during culinary school and knew for 4 years and worked with in Boston for 3 years who didn’t know as much about who she was outside of the kitchen as Mat did, and she’d barely known him for a couple months.

He had an interest in getting to know her and just wanted to sit and speak with her, whether or not he had his own ulterior motives for appreciating her company, they bonded. They spent a lot of time together doing nothing more than talking in their own little world. Lina would go as far as to say that she knew him and not just superficially but at a much deeper level and she could entirely feel what he was saying about how being with her feels because she felt the exact same way. Releasing him from her hold, she was suspended on her toes as Mat took a little longer to pull his arms away. She laughed softly, keeping her hands perched on his shoulders as she looked up at him with a soft and gentle smile.

“You bring me peace too,” She whispered, letting out a breath as she steeled herself to admit her truth to him, something that she’d become very comfortable with so what did she have to lose this time, “I love being your someone, because you’re my someone.”

If Mat was smiling before, the smile that took over her face at her words was rivalling the sun. A deep sigh left his mouth, and it was almost like all the tension that had filled his body since he started speaking had been loosened instantly. His shoulder dropped as the tension fell away and his hands found hers up on his shoulders, holding them tight between them. He went to speak but a shout of ‘LiLi’ filled both of their ears from the living room. Touching his forehead against hers, they both laughed gently as the shouts got closer and more frequently. Pushing back up on her toes, Lina pressed a firm kiss to his cheek before pulling away. Giving him one last peck on the cheek before she properly pulled away.

“Later?” He simply smiled at her question as the sound of small footfalls got closer.

THE WINTER FIC EXCHANGE 2k24 MASTERLIST

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

With Love, And Forever Yours by @callsign-denmark for @ teokka

Frederik Andersen

Little Do You Know by @knifeshoeboys for @ mp0625

Teuvo Teräväinen

Jouluiloa by @mp0625 for @ callsign-denmark

Chicago Hawks

Anthony Beauvillier

tell me who i run to (if not you) by @offside-the-lines for @ bqstqnbruin

Dallas Stars

Tyler Seguin

champagne buzz down to my toes by @thewintersoldier for @ senditcolton

Detroit Red Wings

Alex Lyon

in love love by @jackhues by @ 2manytabsopen

JT Compher

bad at love by @matthewtkachuk for @ comphy-and-cozy

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

Back to You by @tkwrites for @ luvsherleafs

My Sweet Girl by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ matthewtkachuk

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

All This Time by @lifeofpriya for @ prettytoxicrevolver

New Jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

and all at once, you're all i want (i'll never let you go) by @writingonleaves for @ wildrangers

And he feels like home by @gravestrain for @ one-night-story

I Don't Know You, But I Would Love to Meet You by @one-night-story for @ writingonleaves

I Found by @teokka for @ sydnikov

John Marino

Odds were against us by @ladylooch for @ pcttymcrlecu

Nico Hischier

big, big plans by @tonyspep for @ kurlyteuvo

I'm Still Glad I Met You by @senditcolton for @ offside-the-lines

the ink on your skin by @sydnikov for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

Timo Meier

What My World Spins Around by @cellythefloshie for @ ladylooch

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

dreams of someone by @pcttymcrlecu for @ fallinallincurls

love it if we made it by @comphy-and-cozy for @ thewintersoldier

Work Husband by @2manytabsopen for @ twopeoplecanchange

Ottawa Senators

Jakob Chychrun

bet all i have on that furrowed brow by @thomasschabot for @ wyattjohnston

Thomas Chabot

Head & Heart by @kurlyteuvo for @ thomasschabot

Seattle Kraken

Philipp Grubauer

I never thought by @laurenairay for @ knifeshoesboys

Toronto Maple Leafs

Auston Matthews

4 + 1 by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ tonyspep

William Nylander

Guilty by @typical-simplelove for @ lifeofpriya

The Planets and the Fates and All the Stars Aligned by @wildrangers for @ jackhues

Winnipeg Jets

Adam Lowry

breaking all my rules by @wyattjohnston for @ cellythefloshie

Vancouver Canucks

Brock Boeser

Hotel Room by @lam-ila for @ gravestrain

in picture frames, in all my dreams, you’re the one i want by @fallinallincurls for @ laurenairay

Elias Pettersson

Lately you’ve been on my mind by @laurenairay for @ typical-simplelove

Quinn Hughes

Anything to Make it Right by @kurlyteuvo for @ lam-ila

Mistletoe Confession by @sc0tters for @ tkwrites

The Party's Over, Go Home by @bqstqnbruin for @ sc0tters

The odds were against you. 

Well, maybe not right away. You did grow up two houses down from each other. 

But once you moved away for college, the world seemed to keep you apart as much as it flirted with the idea that you two could be together. 

Growing up, it was the Masschusettes version of the three musketeers: John, Paul, and you. There was never a Marino brother around without you. Living on the same street had great perks, like a hockey net to shoot at, a ton of legos, and endless nights spent on their backyard play set.

From the beginning, John and you had a connection. Even as his twin brother was supposed to know him the best, you always seemed to be on the same page with your buddy. For years growing up, you and John had been tango-ing with will they, won't they, before he went to Harvard and you went to theUniversity of Pittsburgh. The next three years, every time you were both home, the tango continued. Both dating other people, never wanting to ruin the friendship, finding excuses for why you could never talk about the elephant in the room. 

Then, John left Harvard after his junior year to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. You were thrilled to show him the city! You took him to your favorite restaurants and introduced him to your college friends. It was you sitting next to his brother and his parents, in a freshly pressed Marino jersey, as he did his solo rookie lap in black and yellow. 

It was you who left Pittsburgh a year later.

While others in your major wanted to be at Google and Microsoft, you wanted to use your computer science degree for good. When the call came for your dream job at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory in Golden, Colorado, you knew you had to decide. You loved John, but he didn’t know, and it was hard to imagine a life where you stayed on the sidelines for potential. So before you decided, you nudged the situation to see what John would say when he was faced with the possibility of losing you.

“I got a job offer!” You exclaimed to him at happy hour. 

“Whoa! Of course you did! You’re so cool.” He puts his chin in his hand, giving you googly, heart eyes in admiration. He is joking, but it puts a silly smile on your face. He sits back up, taking a sip of his beer, waiting expectantly. “So tell me everything. Will you get an office? How close will you work to the arena? And can I come to have lunch with you every day because that is a requirement. We have spent too much time apart.”  Your stomach drops out of your body. You look away, taking in a heavy breath. 

“That is the one downside.” You bite your lip, then continue. “It’s not here.”

“Oh? Is it like out in the boonies or Philly?”

“No. Like Colorado.”

Surprise slaps across John’s face. Then he looks away, trying to gather himself quickly.

“But you just got here and maybe I shouldn’t go...” You trail off. You hold your breath, wanting John to say something. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. But a yearning inside of you begs for John to tell you to stay with him in Pittsburgh. 

“You should go. This is everything you’ve been wanting. You deserve this.” John’s words are everything he should say, but they fucking sting. Tears build in your eyes and you nod. “I’m proud of you.” John finishes with a dainty whisper. He licks his lips, looking away. “Look at us.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out like a cough. “Both of our dreams are coming true.” 

You want to ask him why it feels like your chest is imploding?

But you don’t. 

Instead, you hug your childhood best friend while telling yourself how selfish it would be to confess you’re in love with him before you go

- - - 

Three years later, so much has changed since you hugged John on that bar stool. You have been promoted twice and received national recognition for your work in solar energy. John had rough seasons in Pittsburgh, but has found a new, comfortable place in New Jersey. Paul is with the L.A. Kings in California. You make it a point to meet up with John and Paul when John visits on his West Coast road trips. John and you connect when he is in Colorado. When you’re back home, you make the commute to Jersey and fly home out of Newark. Otherwise, you’re texting daily, sending GIFs and memes and tiktoks back and forth while keeping each other abreast of your busy life. 

You’re closer than ever. More in love with him than ever too. But how would it ever work? 

The repetitive thoughts consume you as you stir the queso you had been making for your taco night at your new home in Golden. It has been a long, competitive process to get this house, but you are so proud of it. A dream home to match the dream job that the dream boy will see tonight. 

A knock sounds on the door. The dream boy waits for you on the other side of the wood.

“Hi!” You squeal when you see John. “Welcome to MY home!”

“Uh, Ma’am, where is the owner of this home? You’re too young and single? It couldn’t be you?” He jokes, then pulls you in for a tight hug. “Thought we could celebrate.” He tilts the bottle of wine at you. It is nothing fancy. In fact, it's Cook’s, the bottle you two had stolen from your parents’ bar to have after prom on the beach.

“Let’s get this expensive gal in a nice lil ice bath.” 

“There is nothing nice about an ice bath. Or that wine.” He snorts, shrugging his coat off. 

“You can put that in the closet right there.” You point to his right. He opens the door, settling his jacket between two of yours. A warmth spreads through your body at his clothes mingling together with yours, gathering each other's scents.

“Don’t dawdle in the doorway, Johnny. Come into my kitchen!” You’re giddy as John's sock covered feet slide across your wood floors to join you in the open, modern space. 

“Gas range?” John oos and aws at all the fixtures you show him. He hypes and gasps at all the right moments. Your cheeks hurt from grinning as you become Vanna White against your refrigerator. 

“Go best friend!” He cheers as you do a little spin and dance for him. You laugh at the end.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You tell him honestly.

“Me too. Glad we got in early.” He opens his arms for you. The weight of you settles against his chest, creating a bonded connection. John squeezes tight, his chin on the top of your head. He works you both into a sway, enjoying the weight of each other’s arms. This version of John is your favorite. The one who blurs the lines between best friends and lovers. You breathe in the fresh scent of his cologne, then wait, making him be the one to break your embrace. 

“So is there an upstairs?” He wonders. 

“There is! They gave me two whole levels!” 

“What! Scam. It’s all a scam.” 

“Look at my wall of pictures.” You point out as you head up the stairs. There is a whole gallery wall of frames and people, many of which John is in. Paul too. 

“I know these people!” He grins, looking at their decades of memories. “My favorite night.” He points to a picture. It’s the New Year's Eve you were pretty sure you almost kissed. 

“Mmm, it’s up there for sure.” You agree, waiting for him. His eyes trace the memory like he wants to burn it into the membrane of his brain. Then he turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs, becoming the tour guide. 

“So up here we have uh…” He looks around. “An office!” 

“Oh! And a standing desk?! She works on her fitness.” You fill in. 

“We have very different definitions of fitness.”

“I hope so, NHL player.”

“And over here,” He tugs you by your fingers. “We have a guest room. You would never have blue as your color. It is not boring enough. This can’t be your room.”

“Shut up! I love neutrals! They’re in!” You shove at him as he howls with laughter. 

“Paul’s room for when he comes to visit. Your parents and sister too.” You can’t help but notice John doesn’t include himself in that.

“Oh here we go.” He gets to your room, pushing the cracked door open to expose your favorite space in the house. He pauses in the doorway, taking it in.

Two lamps on either side of the bed illuminate the room as the sun sets behind the mountains outside. Your white walls are warmed by their dim light. The bed is made with a plush, white comforter and a light tan blanket draped along the foot of the bed. The walls had been painted the faintest of olive green. Various shades of cream and tan pillows create the look of a bed you want to jump into to mess it all up. A black and white picture of waves sliding onto a Nantucket beach is above the headboard. 

John has gone still and silent. You are nervous as he continues to look around the comfy oasis you have created as your escape from the world. You were meticulous in your quest for homey, comfort items that would dull the sometimes harsh world out there. Does he hate it? 

“What do you think?” You finally ask.

“Honestly?” He murmurs.

“Yes!” You giggle, trying to cross the distance you feel separating you.

“I wish this was our house.” 

You freeze. John keeps looking at the bed, eyes ravenous over the clean bedding like he is seeing something else. 

“I wish this was our bed.” He sighs. “I wish I was the one who got to sleep here with you because this is so clearly your dream house and I wish I was your dream man.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. This is when you realize he really doesn’t know. How does he not know?

“You are.” You whisper. 

It’s John’s turn to be still and dumbfounded. 

“You’re my dream man, Johnny.” 

You bite your lip and John rushes towards you. His hands grip your face, tugging you into his lips. Your head falls back, delirious at his mouth finally being on yours. He holds your head up, working his lips to an angle so his tongue can devour your mouth. You never want to breathe again. His tongue and lips on yours are everything you’ve ever wanted. How will you stop? 

Need takes over and you break apart begrudgingly. John rests his forehead on yours, thumbs delicately stroking your cheek bones. 

“I’m in love with you, Johnny.” 

“Good. Cause I am deliriously in love with you. And I’m sick of not telling you that every day.” You grin, inhaling heavily as tears fill your eyes. 

“How are we going to do this?” 

“I don’t know.” John sighs, gripping your face tighter in his fingers, like that will stop the rest of reality from intruding on your moment. 

“I’m scared. We live so far apart. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“We’ll have to be brave, sweetheart.”

Being brave is your second act.

The next 6 months you navigate the journey from friends to lovers while trying to mitigate the 1,700 miles that separate you. A 2 hour time zone difference weighs heavily on your relationship, along with two careers that threaten to ground you before your relationship even has a chance to take off. Then the off-season comes and John decides to train in Colorado with local NHL players at altitude, convinced it will give him that next step in his game. 

The season begins again and your bed is as empty as it was before. You’re miserable. Lonelier than you’ve ever been and it spews mean thoughts in your brain at all hours of the night. John feels the same. You both discuss it openly, but neither of you have solutions for this next roadblock. Something will have to give, you both know it, but neither of you can speak it.

Right before Thanksgiving, your fist feels heavy against his Jersey City apartment door. He isn’t expecting you, but the relieved sigh when he has you in his arms tells you how welcome you are here. He ushers you in, pasting his lips against your skin as you try to set your bag down. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Accepting my job offer.” John bolts up.

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No, babe. Don’t do this for me.”

“I’m not going to pretend it isn’t because of you. Of course it is. But this is a really good career move for me too. We can have it all.”

“Your house-” 

“-will always just be my house. I’m ready to upgrade to our house.” You lock your hands around his neck, fingers guzzling up every bit of warmth from his skin. “I know what I want to do in my life and it’s to be where you are.” John groans then hugs you into his chest desperately.

In another month, you cut those 1700 miles down to 0. You and John move into your new place together. While you’re unpacking the neutral bedroom decor he makes fun of, John walks in then pops down to one knee. 

“Can’t wait another minute.” He confesses. “I’ve been downstairs trying to talk myself out of doing it and why? For what? Because there isn’t an audience? There isn’t a photographer? Your nails aren’t done? That’s not us. This is us. So, marry me?”  Your bottom lip quivers. A blink sends tear tracks down your face as you nod enthusiastically, telling the man, who is still your dream boy, “YES” you will marry him!

The wedding is a fast plan, you need to do it in the off-season and neither of you care for anything super fancy anyway. It’s a quaint ceremony on a similar Nantucket beach that hangs above your now shared bed. You and John stare in awe as you take turns reciting written vows that may as well be a decades long love letter to each other.

“Let’s keep betting on us, baby.” John finishes. You laugh, nodding vigorously. 

When it’s time to seal the deal, John winds his hand around your waist, then tilts you down, kissing you so fully that you’re dazed when he brings you back up. 

Like it has for thousands of years, a kiss between two lovers seals your fate. 

It’s been decided.

A forever commitment.

The odds were against you. 

Well, maybe not right away. You did grow up two houses down from each other. 

But once you moved away for college, the world seemed to keep you apart as much as it flirted with the idea that you two could be together. 

Growing up, it was the Masschusettes version of the three musketeers: John, Paul, and you. There was never a Marino brother around without you. Living on the same street had great perks, like a hockey net to shoot at, a ton of legos, and endless nights spent on their backyard play set.

From the beginning, John and you had a connection. Even as his twin brother was supposed to know him the best, you always seemed to be on the same page with your buddy. For years growing up, you and John had been tango-ing with will they, won't they, before he went to Harvard and you went to theUniversity of Pittsburgh. The next three years, every time you were both home, the tango continued. Both dating other people, never wanting to ruin the friendship, finding excuses for why you could never talk about the elephant in the room. 

Then, John left Harvard after his junior year to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. You were thrilled to show him the city! You took him to your favorite restaurants and introduced him to your college friends. It was you sitting next to his brother and his parents, in a freshly pressed Marino jersey, as he did his solo rookie lap in black and yellow. 

It was you who left Pittsburgh a year later.

While others in your major wanted to be at Google and Microsoft, you wanted to use your computer science degree for good. When the call came for your dream job at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory in Golden, Colorado, you knew you had to decide. You loved John, but he didn’t know, and it was hard to imagine a life where you stayed on the sidelines for potential. So before you decided, you nudged the situation to see what John would say when he was faced with the possibility of losing you.

“I got a job offer!” You exclaimed to him at happy hour. 

“Whoa! Of course you did! You’re so cool.” He puts his chin in his hand, giving you googly, heart eyes in admiration. He is joking, but it puts a silly smile on your face. He sits back up, taking a sip of his beer, waiting expectantly. “So tell me everything. Will you get an office? How close will you work to the arena? And can I come to have lunch with you every day because that is a requirement. We have spent too much time apart.”  Your stomach drops out of your body. You look away, taking in a heavy breath. 

“That is the one downside.” You bite your lip, then continue. “It’s not here.”

“Oh? Is it like out in the boonies or Philly?”

“No. Like Colorado.”

Surprise slaps across John’s face. Then he looks away, trying to gather himself quickly.

“But you just got here and maybe I shouldn’t go...” You trail off. You hold your breath, wanting John to say something. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. But a yearning inside of you begs for John to tell you to stay with him in Pittsburgh. 

“You should go. This is everything you’ve been wanting. You deserve this.” John’s words are everything he should say, but they fucking sting. Tears build in your eyes and you nod. “I’m proud of you.” John finishes with a dainty whisper. He licks his lips, looking away. “Look at us.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out like a cough. “Both of our dreams are coming true.” 

You want to ask him why it feels like your chest is imploding?

But you don’t. 

Instead, you hug your childhood best friend while telling yourself how selfish it would be to confess you’re in love with him before you go

- - - 

Three years later, so much has changed since you hugged John on that bar stool. You have been promoted twice and received national recognition for your work in solar energy. John had rough seasons in Pittsburgh, but has found a new, comfortable place in New Jersey. Paul is with the L.A. Kings in California. You make it a point to meet up with John and Paul when John visits on his West Coast road trips. John and you connect when he is in Colorado. When you’re back home, you make the commute to Jersey and fly home out of Newark. Otherwise, you’re texting daily, sending GIFs and memes and tiktoks back and forth while keeping each other abreast of your busy life. 

You’re closer than ever. More in love with him than ever too. But how would it ever work? 

The repetitive thoughts consume you as you stir the queso you had been making for your taco night at your new home in Golden. It has been a long, competitive process to get this house, but you are so proud of it. A dream home to match the dream job that the dream boy will see tonight. 

A knock sounds on the door. The dream boy waits for you on the other side of the wood.

“Hi!” You squeal when you see John. “Welcome to MY home!”

“Uh, Ma’am, where is the owner of this home? You’re too young and single? It couldn’t be you?” He jokes, then pulls you in for a tight hug. “Thought we could celebrate.” He tilts the bottle of wine at you. It is nothing fancy. In fact, it's Cook’s, the bottle you two had stolen from your parents’ bar to have after prom on the beach.

“Let’s get this expensive gal in a nice lil ice bath.” 

“There is nothing nice about an ice bath. Or that wine.” He snorts, shrugging his coat off. 

“You can put that in the closet right there.” You point to his right. He opens the door, settling his jacket between two of yours. A warmth spreads through your body at his clothes mingling together with yours, gathering each other's scents.

“Don’t dawdle in the doorway, Johnny. Come into my kitchen!” You’re giddy as John's sock covered feet slide across your wood floors to join you in the open, modern space. 

“Gas range?” John oos and aws at all the fixtures you show him. He hypes and gasps at all the right moments. Your cheeks hurt from grinning as you become Vanna White against your refrigerator. 

“Go best friend!” He cheers as you do a little spin and dance for him. You laugh at the end.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You tell him honestly.

“Me too. Glad we got in early.” He opens his arms for you. The weight of you settles against his chest, creating a bonded connection. John squeezes tight, his chin on the top of your head. He works you both into a sway, enjoying the weight of each other’s arms. This version of John is your favorite. The one who blurs the lines between best friends and lovers. You breathe in the fresh scent of his cologne, then wait, making him be the one to break your embrace. 

“So is there an upstairs?” He wonders. 

“There is! They gave me two whole levels!” 

“What! Scam. It’s all a scam.” 

“Look at my wall of pictures.” You point out as you head up the stairs. There is a whole gallery wall of frames and people, many of which John is in. Paul too. 

“I know these people!” He grins, looking at their decades of memories. “My favorite night.” He points to a picture. It’s the New Year's Eve you were pretty sure you almost kissed. 

“Mmm, it’s up there for sure.” You agree, waiting for him. His eyes trace the memory like he wants to burn it into the membrane of his brain. Then he turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs, becoming the tour guide. 

“So up here we have uh…” He looks around. “An office!” 

“Oh! And a standing desk?! She works on her fitness.” You fill in. 

“We have very different definitions of fitness.”

“I hope so, NHL player.”

“And over here,” He tugs you by your fingers. “We have a guest room. You would never have blue as your color. It is not boring enough. This can’t be your room.”

“Shut up! I love neutrals! They’re in!” You shove at him as he howls with laughter. 

“Paul’s room for when he comes to visit. Your parents and sister too.” You can’t help but notice John doesn’t include himself in that.

“Oh here we go.” He gets to your room, pushing the cracked door open to expose your favorite space in the house. He pauses in the doorway, taking it in.

Two lamps on either side of the bed illuminate the room as the sun sets behind the mountains outside. Your white walls are warmed by their dim light. The bed is made with a plush, white comforter and a light tan blanket draped along the foot of the bed. The walls had been painted the faintest of olive green. Various shades of cream and tan pillows create the look of a bed you want to jump into to mess it all up. A black and white picture of waves sliding onto a Nantucket beach is above the headboard. 

John has gone still and silent. You are nervous as he continues to look around the comfy oasis you have created as your escape from the world. You were meticulous in your quest for homey, comfort items that would dull the sometimes harsh world out there. Does he hate it? 

“What do you think?” You finally ask.

“Honestly?” He murmurs.

“Yes!” You giggle, trying to cross the distance you feel separating you.

“I wish this was our house.” 

You freeze. John keeps looking at the bed, eyes ravenous over the clean bedding like he is seeing something else. 

“I wish this was our bed.” He sighs. “I wish I was the one who got to sleep here with you because this is so clearly your dream house and I wish I was your dream man.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. This is when you realize he really doesn’t know. How does he not know?

“You are.” You whisper. 

It’s John’s turn to be still and dumbfounded. 

“You’re my dream man, Johnny.” 

You bite your lip and John rushes towards you. His hands grip your face, tugging you into his lips. Your head falls back, delirious at his mouth finally being on yours. He holds your head up, working his lips to an angle so his tongue can devour your mouth. You never want to breathe again. His tongue and lips on yours are everything you’ve ever wanted. How will you stop? 

Need takes over and you break apart begrudgingly. John rests his forehead on yours, thumbs delicately stroking your cheek bones. 

“I’m in love with you, Johnny.” 

“Good. Cause I am deliriously in love with you. And I’m sick of not telling you that every day.” You grin, inhaling heavily as tears fill your eyes. 

“How are we going to do this?” 

“I don’t know.” John sighs, gripping your face tighter in his fingers, like that will stop the rest of reality from intruding on your moment. 

“I’m scared. We live so far apart. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“We’ll have to be brave, sweetheart.”

Being brave is your second act.

The next 6 months you navigate the journey from friends to lovers while trying to mitigate the 1,700 miles that separate you. A 2 hour time zone difference weighs heavily on your relationship, along with two careers that threaten to ground you before your relationship even has a chance to take off. Then the off-season comes and John decides to train in Colorado with local NHL players at altitude, convinced it will give him that next step in his game. 

The season begins again and your bed is as empty as it was before. You’re miserable. Lonelier than you’ve ever been and it spews mean thoughts in your brain at all hours of the night. John feels the same. You both discuss it openly, but neither of you have solutions for this next roadblock. Something will have to give, you both know it, but neither of you can speak it.

Right before Thanksgiving, your fist feels heavy against his Jersey City apartment door. He isn’t expecting you, but the relieved sigh when he has you in his arms tells you how welcome you are here. He ushers you in, pasting his lips against your skin as you try to set your bag down. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Accepting my job offer.” John bolts up.

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No, babe. Don’t do this for me.”

“I’m not going to pretend it isn’t because of you. Of course it is. But this is a really good career move for me too. We can have it all.”

“Your house-” 

“-will always just be my house. I’m ready to upgrade to our house.” You lock your hands around his neck, fingers guzzling up every bit of warmth from his skin. “I know what I want to do in my life and it’s to be where you are.” John groans then hugs you into his chest desperately.

In another month, you cut those 1700 miles down to 0. You and John move into your new place together. While you’re unpacking the neutral bedroom decor he makes fun of, John walks in then pops down to one knee. 

“Can’t wait another minute.” He confesses. “I’ve been downstairs trying to talk myself out of doing it and why? For what? Because there isn’t an audience? There isn’t a photographer? Your nails aren’t done? That’s not us. This is us. So, marry me?”  Your bottom lip quivers. A blink sends tear tracks down your face as you nod enthusiastically, telling the man, who is still your dream boy, “YES” you will marry him!

The wedding is a fast plan, you need to do it in the off-season and neither of you care for anything super fancy anyway. It’s a quaint ceremony on a similar Nantucket beach that hangs above your now shared bed. You and John stare in awe as you take turns reciting written vows that may as well be a decades long love letter to each other.

“Let’s keep betting on us, baby.” John finishes. You laugh, nodding vigorously. 

When it’s time to seal the deal, John winds his hand around your waist, then tilts you down, kissing you so fully that you’re dazed when he brings you back up. 

Like it has for thousands of years, a kiss between two lovers seals your fate. 

It’s been decided.

A forever commitment.

this is a hockey imagine exchange, meant for reader inserts or OC fics (not player/player)

if you signed up for the summer fic exchange 2k23 and did not finish a fic you are not eligible for this exchange without chatting to me first

if you signed up for the summer fic exchange 2k23 and did not reblog the fic written for you, you are not eligible for this exchange. you can go reblog said fic and show your appreciation right now, and then sign up. if the fic written for you has disappeared/been deleted… let me know.

the minimum word count is 1500 words

there’s no requirement to have written x number of fics prior to signing up

if you change your URL at any point after you’ve signed up, please let me know so that your sign up doesn’t get lost. this ideally includes letting me know if it changes before the masterlist goes up

you do not have to be following me, but please check back occasionally between sign ups opening and matches being sent as there might be changes/updates

this is supposed to be fun. if you are going to be overwhelmingly stressed out about the writing process, due date or what people’s response will be to your fic then this isn’t for you. know your own limits.

any updates will be tagged with ‘the winter fic exchange 2k24’

you will need to allow anonymous messages once matches have gone out so that you can be asked questions. if you are unsure about how to change these settings, please let me know

i am doing this by myself so don’t be a dick.

my DMs and ask box are always open (anons welcome!) if you have any questions.

you can sign up here.

Explanation

this functions like secret santa/kris kringle, where people sign up and are then provided a person they will be writing a fic for.

on the google form linked above, you will fill in a bunch of information including players and genres you like to read about and players you like to write about—i then do my absolute best to match these up with each other so that people are receiving what they want and writing within their comfort limits.

there are also spaces to tell me genres and players you want nothing to do with, so that i won’t pair you up with a person who exclusively writes things you aren’t interested in.