#dylan larkin x reader

The warmth of Dylan’s palm wrapped around the door handle carefully, as if the simple turn of it would wake anyone sleeping inside. It was cool to the touch, warmed by his careful grasp, as he turned it slowly–just like he had countless times before–and pushed the heavy door open with a tired push. The door squeaked on its hinges, leaving Dylan to wince as he peered through the darkness for any signs of life. 

All the lights in the condo were off, and the only thing he could hear was the quiet hum of the nightlife on the city streets multiple stories below. A car honked. Puddles splashed. A drunk girl squealed. And Dylan smiled. It sounded like home. 

He placed his bag down on the floor as he kicked off his shoes. His every action was quiet, careful and deliberate. He didn’t want to wake her. 

After a long road trip with a late-night flight, Dylan always looked forward to the same thing: coming home to her. 

The scent of her perfume in the air. Her keys on the console table, the feminine touches around the living room that took his place from being a place to sleep to a home they shared–right down to her shoes that he always tripped on in the hallway…

Dylan froze, his heavily tired body suddenly jolting awake. 

A single hand reached out, blindly searching for the light switch on the wall as if he had never turned it on before. 

The overhead light was a sterile brightness that shocked his eyes into a series of tight blinks before they could focus. They fixated on the key bowl first. Her keys rested nestled in the bowl, tangled with his, but the space where her purse rested beside his was void. Empty. Just like the space on the floor where her heels always rested in the way on the floor. 

And it hit him. 

He didn’t need to walk any further into the condo to know that the framed photos that lined the shelf would be gone. Her throw blanket, the one they always found themselves cuddled under on movie nights, were missing. Nothing would remain but traces of dirt on the windowsill where her plants craved the morning sun. Everything that had been hers–or more hers than his–was gone.

For a long moment, he stood there, a single hand raised to his face as his eyes shut. 

He loved her. 

She knew that, didn’t she? 

Dylan had said it in every way he could. Small gestures like holding her hand or subtle touches when they were on dates. He bought her anything she wanted, even when she didn’t ask or he didn’t have to, just because he could. They went on trips together. She met his family and he hers–they were a serious couple, together for years. But she wanted more. More than Dylan knew how to give. 

A heavy breath rattled through him. Deep, quivering, struggling with realization he had come home to face. And still, the air carried the scent of her–the faint sweetness of vanilla and cherry blossoms–like she had just left. 

His eyes shot open, and he jumped over the ottoman that stood between him and the window. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t hear the city that was still awake and thriving beneath them. But he could see it, her car, still idle in the valet.  

Dylan didn’t think. He just ran. 

Dylan ran out the door and into the stairwell because the elevator would have been too slow. He took them two at a time, sock-clad feet pounding against the concrete. By the time he reached the bottom, where he burst through the fire exit and into the street, she had already begun driving away. 

If she hadn’t slammed on the brakes, she would have hit him. 

He wouldn’t have been mad if she did. But her tires screeched, the car jerking inches away from his kneecaps. His palms met the warmth of the hood, his breath ragged and throat burning as if he completed an extended shift on the ice. Dylan tasted iron in the back of his throat as he stared through the windshield at her wide eyes and parted lips. Rainwater soaked into his socks as he stood there, unmoving, trying to catch his breath. 

The shrill honk of her car horn sent him jumping back, breaking him from his stare and sending him into the depths of a puddle outside her driver's side window. 

“Don’t go,” his voice cracked as he caught her glance through the half-open window. “Please. I’ll do better–just tell me what you need, and I’ll–”

“Dylan,” she sighed, her voice soft but firm. There would be no getting back together this time. “There’s nothing you can do. We’ve talked about this. We’ve tried—”

He could hear her heavy sigh as her grasp tightened around her steering wheel. She had voiced her concerns more times than he would admit to anyone. The late-night talks that turned into arguments. Arguments that lead to gifts for his shortcomings. It wasn’t enough–because he couldn’t change the one thing she needed the most: to be put first. 

But as long as Dylan was playing in the NHL, she would always come second to his career. 

Dylan reached in, his hand wrapping around the glass of the window, preventing her from closing it. “I love you, it’s only ever going to be you–”

She leaned her head back against the seat, her gaze directed up at the sunroof to avoid looking at him. “Don’t make this more difficult than this needs to be, Dylan. Please.”

His hand slipped away from the window, and her finger was quick to secure it back in place. He could only see the outline of her as she put the car into drive, leaving him to stand in the roadway aglow with the red light of her brake lights. He stood there, in the middle of the street, the cold rain soaking his clothes, even after she was out of sight. 

Dylan knew he should have seen it coming. He should have done more to stop it–but what could he have done? Retire just after the team named him captain? The thought left him numb. The ache that consumed him suddenly gone and left with the dread of what ifs?

What if he had never been named captain?

What if he finished college and lived a normal life?

What if she chose to stay? Would they have both gone back up to bed and pretended she hadn’t tried to leave him? Would things have really changed, or would she just be more careful about leaving next time?

The thoughts haunted him as Dylan padded back into his apartment building, leaving a trail of wet footsteps behind him, only to be met by the shrill sound of the fire alarm going off. He triggered it when he went out the emergency exit. The roar of a fire engine rattled him from outside as he waited by the stalled elevator, too defeated to take the stairs back up to the apartment that was as good as empty. 

He forced a smile when the firefighters came in, his name leaving their lips with surprise. With a breath, Dylan put on the persona he only brought out for the media. The one that wasn’t haunted by a loss–or his break up–and he pretended he hadn’t been the one to set off the alarm. And he pretended not to hear the one firefighter ask him about his shoes as they reset the fire panel after the building was given the all-clear. After a quick picture, he slipped back into the elevator with the residents who evacuated when the fire alarm sounded. It wasn’t many of them, but enough to leave Dylan dreading the long ride up. 

By the time the elevator reached his floor, he was alone. His head hung low as he walked down the narrow hallway and pressed his palm against the cool surface of the door, as he had many times before. But this time, he didn’t open it with caution or wince as it welcomed him with its screech, because this time, there was no one left for him to wake up.

After practice, the air was thick with sweat and heavy with silence. The guys already knew. Dylan could see it in their subtle glances and low whispers. Maybe the fact he hadn’t smiled all morning had given it away, or maybe it had been in the wives and girlfriends group chat long before he even knew she was leaving. The gossip always reached the guys, even if they never admitted it. 

Engagements. 

Infidelities. 

Pregnancies. 

Breakups. 

The announcements worth celebrating always came with congratulations. A domino effect of words, one “about time” or “this is huge, man” after the next as each player admitted they already knew or had come to know in the locker room discussion. But a breakup? There were no words, just glances and apologetic glances because they were never man enough to put it into words. Their silence said one thing: they pitied him. 

No one mentioned her name. No one brought up his missed passes or shots fueled so strongly by frustration that they could have shattered the glass. And no one stood in his way during a scrimmage that he met with such intensity it was like a game seven must-win for the Stanley Cup kind of game. By the end, he was sweat-drenched and exhausted, sitting in his stall in the locker room, muttering quiet goodbyes until he was alone in the room. 

When he knew he was alone, Dylan leaned back in his stall. The back of his head found the support of the wall, his eyes shutting as he took a deep breath to try to shake the feeling of heaviness that settled over his chest.

Dylan didn’t want to go home; not when there was nothing to go home to. It didn’t feel like home without her there. Now, it was just a place to sleep when he wasn’t flying from one city to the next. It was a fact that hung heavily over him as he walked into the showers and stood under the stream until it sent tears rolling down the walls. 

After the shower, dressed in clothes that no longer smelled like sweat and his curls still heavy with wetness, Dylan found himself wandering down the street instead of back to his car. At first, he didn’t know where he was going as long as it was anywhere but home. With his head down and his headphones in, he walked what felt like aimlessly until he paused behind a crowd too thick to push through. Looking up, he saw a familiar sign. 

He almost smiled. 

It was a little coffee shop he’d been going to since he was a rookie. Back then, it hadn’t been so popular. There were days he was the only one in the shop, where he enjoyed a cup of coffee after practice and liked to take new girls on dates back when he spent late nights swiping left and right.

His heart dropped. He would have to start dating again. 

Dylan almost groaned as he got in line. The coffee shop had come under new ownership. A quick renovation, a new seasonal menu, and a few trendy social media posts later had people flocking to the shop to try their latest flavor of matcha or iced latte. 

When he reached the till, Dylan ordered his usual, every word and movement a routine act, like he were on autopilot. The cup was hot in his hand as he carried it, his eyes fixated on the dark liquid threatening to spill over the side of his cup as he moved for his favorite seat in the corner by the window. 

He settled into the vacant seat as he had many times before. His cup met the tabletop first. Then he took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair. Then he sat down, and only then did he notice he was not the only one there. 

It was the soft clink of a ceramic mug meeting its plate that drew his eyes to you. You were sitting across from him, a book in your hand blocking your face. You didn’t even look away from the pages to acknowledge him staring, his jaw went slack with embarrassment. 

“Oh–I’m sorry,” Dylan managed, a single hand reaching for his cup as he turned in his seat, looking for a vacant table to occupy. “I didn’t realize–I’ll find another seat.”

He was half-standing, ready to move to another empty table that didn’t exist when you spoke. “It’s fine.” Your words were a hum that was laced with something that sounded like amusement. “You can stay. It won’t bother me, as long as you don’t try to talk to me until I’m done with this chapter.”

Dylan hesitated for a moment. Stuck between leaving the coffee shop and staying put in his seat. It was something in your tone that had him decide to stay. Something kind. Gentle. 

You didn’t look up again until you had slipped a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. When you did, it almost startled him. He didn’t know what to expect when the thick book was closed, but when your eyes met him with curiosity instead of recognition and pity, he found himself relaxed in his seat. 

“It’s pretty busy here, huh?” you said softly, your voice almost lost in the coffee house clamour.

“Yeah,” Dylan breathed out. “It’s not always this bad. Usually, I don’t have to fight for my favorite table.”

“Favorite table?” You scoffed, your head tilting in a way that made his chest tight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit here before.”

Were you teasing him? 

Dylan smiled, but barely. The corners of his lips tugged upwards for the first time since she left, and it didn’t feel like effort. “I’ve been out of town for a while. Easy for someone to swoop in and steal my spot.”

“Consider it conquered,” you said, grinning. 

His smile grew. Then he laughed. Not something forced, but a real laugh. It almost felt wrong to feel a semblance of joy, but he needed it more than he realized. 

“You’re funny,” he said, his smile still on his lips as he reached a hand out across the table. “I’m Dylan.”

Shaking his hand, yours was warm and delicate as you introduced yourself. You didn’t hesitate like a woman who was trying to think of a fake name to provide to a man who gave you unwanted attention. You seemed confident and genuine. He liked that. 

Slowly, you put your book into your purse, the weight of it straining the straps as you slipped them over your shoulder. You had somewhere to be, but were too kind to just up and leave. 

“Well, what do you say,” he started slowly, “same time tomorrow?” 

You smiled, and the weight on his chest didn’t seem so heavy anymore. 

“Same time tomorrow,” you agreed as you stood. “Goodbye, Dylan.”

You stood slowly, your bag clutched close as you carefully navigated through the coffee shop crowd and out into the street. He watched your every step, watching as your lips moved in a soft “excuse me” as you moved toward the door. And when you got outside, how your hand raised up to fix your scarf just right before you were gone. Lost somewhere down the street, out of sight but not forgotten.

The next day, Dylan was already at the table before the door chimed, announcing your arrival–and every single person before you. Each time the bell rang, Dylan stiffened in his seat, his stomach jumping up to the back of his throat as his eyes went to the door. Each unfamiliar face sent his stomach falling back down into the depths of his gut, his nerves running raw at the thought that you might not return to the coffee shop. 

He couldn’t blame you if you didn’t. 

You were mere strangers. He knew nothing more about you than your name, the book you were halfway done reading when you had slipped it into your bag the day before, and your favorite coffee order–and he had to bribe the barista with a generous tip for that information. 

Dylan’s eyes dropped to the oversized mug of creamy coffee. The heart design on top was undisturbed, but the coffee itself was undoubtedly starting to get cold. He reached out with two fingers, pressing them carefully to the outside of the mug, to feel the radiation of the warmth. Not quite cold enough to call it a waste, but growing closer to him needing to buy you another–or accept that you wouldn’t be coming and leave. 

Retracting his hand, Dylan glanced out the window and at the empty street. Raindrops trickled down the fogged window lazily. The patter, steady and light, teased the idea of snow. 

Shoulders rocked with a heavy sigh as he reached towards the back of his chair, gripping his jacket that hung there. It was going to be a cold walk back to the car.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Dylan saw a flash of color rush past the window. 

Then the door chimed. 

You came. 

Dylan’s hand relaxed around the back of the chair as he fought off a too-wide smile for one a little smaller. 

You were halfway to the counter when you noticed the cup waiting for you. “You didn’t have to do that,” you told him as you pulled off your wet coat. 

As you lowered down into place, he watched as your eyebrows raised slightly in surprise before lowering back into place again. “How did you-”

“Talked the barista into telling me your favorite order,” Dylan said. 

“Quite assuming of you to think I drink the same thing every day,” you countered with something that sounded like teasing in your voice. 

“Same drink, same spot… same book?” He asked slowly. 

Your hand dipped down into your bag, pulling out a new paperback, its cover pristine and a receipt tucked between the first few pages. You tapped it playfully with the tips of your fingers as you showed it to him. “Fished the other one last night.” 

Dylan’s head shook slowly as he let out a low chuckle. “You thought I’d stand you up, didn’t you?” 

“A little,” you admitted, tracing the edges of the pages with your thumb. 

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Dylan pulled out a small, worn book. The cover was half torn, and the spine was creased so many times that the title and author were no longer legible. 

“I wasn’t sure if I gave you the wrong idea yesterday,” Dylan placed the book down on the table, and his hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I’ve…” a heavy sigh rocked his shoulders, “I have been out of the dating game for a while.”

Heat blossomed out over his cheeks, spreading to the very tips of his ears as he cast his gaze back down at his book. Dylan didn’t know what he hated most: admitting that he was single, or being on what felt like a date mere days after a breakup. 

If what he wanted was a rebound, he should have been looking on dating apps for that, not coffee shops—you didn’t deserve the trouble he would put you through. 

“Date?” You spoke slowly, your lips grazing the edge of your coffee mug before you took a long sip that left you smiling. “You’ve got a book, I’ve got a book. Looks like a book club to me.”

Dylan's jaw slacked before he could stop it, his lips parting in a subtle breath of relief.

If he had slighted you, you didn't show it. There was a soft smile on your lips, and a brightness in your eyes that was warm. Understanding. 

“We can read for a while,” you suggested softly, “then we can talk about it, or whatever you want. Then we leave-” your cheeks darkened with color, your words growing quicker as you spoke, “whenever you get sick of me…”

Dylan’s features pulled back in a soft laugh. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

A silence fell between you that wasn’t dreaded or awkward. It was welcome as you both opened your books and welcomed the background noise that came with sitting together in the coffee shop. 

A chime at the door. The hiss of steaming milk. The sharp clink of your cup against its saucer after a long, satisfying sip. It was all just background noise as his eyes moved over the familiar words of his favorite book until he heard you laugh. 

It wasn’t soft, like you were trying to hide it. It was loud, all-consuming over your features as your lips spread out into a smile that sent your eyes squinting. You didn’t hold back, even as he stared–he didn’t even think you noticed, as he couldn’t help but become fixated on your happiness. 

Dylan couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a smile so pure outside of his teammates on the ice. You weren’t using it to hide that you hated that he had to go on another six-game road trip. The smile wasn’t a tool used to get something from him. It wasn’t a mask worn at a group event to hide that you weren’t having a good time. 

Your smile was real.

He wanted to see more of it, and it terrified him. What if there came a day that the smile you wore wasn’t true anymore? 

He had taken all the joy from his ex’s life. Could he risk doing the same to you too? 

“Dylan-” hearing his name leave your lips broke him from the trance he didn’t know he had fallen into. “Are you alright?” 

He didn’t know when, but you had caught him staring, and he didn’t know the state of his own expression when you did. But it was enough to raise concerns. Your attention belonged to him as you had closed your book around one of your thumbs to not lose your pace before you could shove your bookmark into place. 

“Yeah,” Dylan nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to find his composure. “I’m great, actually. This was nice.” 

Your eyes narrowed for a moment, looking him over with a moment of disbelief before they widened. If you doubted him, you didn’t question it. 

He appreciated that. 

“It was,” you agreed, tucking your bookmark into place before slipping your book into your bag. “We should do it again. If you haven't gotten sick of me yet.” 

Dylan laughed softly. “Actually, I was hoping you’d want a change of scenery. Maybe dinner?” 

You paused, smiling as you pulled your bag up into your lap and began digging through it with one hand until you pulled out your phone. “You’ll be needing my number then?”

“How about this,” Dylan started slowly, taking your phone from you carefully. He opened your contacts and entered his name in full, punctuating it in the contact name with a coffee cup as if you would forget who Dylan Larkin was in your phone. “I will be out of town for the next week for work, so take my number and Google me. If you still want to see me again after that. Text me and we will arrange dinner.” 

“Google you-” you started, and he cut you off. 

“Yeah, please. I want to tell you, but I want to leave here thinking I’ll get to see you again.”

Your face fell into the same expression it had when it seemed you didn't quite believe him. Furrowed brows, the slight wrinkle of your nose, and slightly parted lips. You were confused. Maybe a little curious, and that’s exactly how he wanted you. 

“I don’t know if I should consider that mysterious or a red flag,” you told him. 

He laughed. “At this point, I don’t know either.”

Even after you texted him, and arranged a date and time for dinner, Dylan was still terrified that you wouldn’t show. His palms were sweating as he entered his favorite restaurant. The music hummed softly around him. Silverware clinked, and there was a whisper of voices that teased his ears with broken dinner conversation as the host led him to his table.. 

He reserved a quiet spot. A table at the back of the restaurant, near the window. It was something private, yet familiar—and unoccupied. You sat there, looking as nervous as he felt, your hand wrapped around a half-empty wineglass as you looked back over your shoulder at him. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I started without you,” you said to him slowly as you stood up to greet him. 

“I don’t mind,” Dylan assured with a smile, as he stepped forward then hesitated. 

He wanted to hug you. But could he? This was only your first real date.

You saw him hesitate. He could see it in the way your lips curled up softly at each corner, and how your eyes lit up before you dropped your gaze and stole the space between you. 

The feeling of your arms circling around him carefully sent a wave of heat through him. One that started in the depth of his stomach and rose to his cheeks in a soft shade of red. He hugged you with a single arm, his hand giving your ribs a gentle squeeze before he stepped back and found his seat across from you. 

“You look great,” he said, and when you offered a shy laugh in return, his heart felt tight in his chest. It was a tightness Dylan didn’t think he'd ever feel again–and for a moment he thought he imagined it until you smiled and he felt it hit him all over again. 

He was completely smitten. 

Dylan tried to hide it with restraint. He kept his smile small and the conversation light. Asking casual getting-to-know-you questions over dinner and a glass of wine. You barely knew each other, yet somehow everything clicked. 

Halfway through dinner, Dylan almost had to give himself a silent reminder: This was just the first date.

But it was his ex who did that for him.

He spotted her across the room, sitting at the bar. She was wearing her favorite little black dress, one that he had seen her wear countless times.  

The sight of her left his mouth dry. He reached for his glass of water and drank it back in long gulps that failed to quench his sudden, insatiable thirst. He knew the day would come, but he hadn't expected it would happen so soon. 

He also hadn't expected to feel… calm. 

Everything he had expected to feel the first time he saw her didn’t happen. There was no ache in his chest, nor burst of anxiety to consume him. What surprised him the most was that he didn’t feel the need to be seen by her. Dylan had no desire to walk over to her to say hello. To check in on how she was doing—to test the waters to see if she would take him back. 

There was only the faint recognition of someone who used to matter, but didn’t anymore. 

Every bit of sadness had already faded, quickly and quietly without him even realizing, because of you. 

All it took was accidentally sitting at the same table as you to change everything, but he hadn’t realized it. 

What he had before with her wasn’t love. It was an attachment to familiarity, to the comfort of having someone, and he had clung to it because it was constant—safe—even if they had both struggled through it until the very end. 

Sitting across from you was different. Dylan could have sat there in silence, watching the amber light dance across your features as you talked about anything. Being around you was enough, flooding him with a warmth that he couldn’t quite describe. It was a drive that made him want to be better, to be present in a way he hadn’t been before, and to have hope again.

A smile spread over his face, heat spreading out over his features so hot that he could feel it in the tips of his ears. His head shook slowly, and he hoped you didn’t notice as he tried to hide his smile behind another long sip of his drink. 

“What?” you asked, your smile growing to match his.

“Nothing,” he whispered, placing the empty glass back down on the table to wait for a refill. “I’m just really glad you came.” 

Dylan reached out to you with his right hand, and you returned his hold with your left. He held it carefully, his fingers grazing over your empty ring finger casually, and his chest went tight with hope. 

It was only the beginning, but Dylan was sure of one thing. He finally knew what love was supposed to feel like. 

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In less than ten hours, you were leaving for Paris to spend a semester abroad at the Sorbonne. It had been a dream of yours ever since you were little to live in Paris, and for a few months at least, you would get to live that dream. But that didn’t mean it was easy to leave the person you loved most in the world behind.

You and Dylan had been dating for over two years. You met him in your economics class during your first semester at UMich, and the two of you hit it off immediately. Dylan asked you to be his girlfriend by Christmas, and your relationship survived his transition to the NHL the following year. While it was true that he didn’t move far (Detroit was only 45 minutes away from Ann Arbor), it was still tough, and the constant road games were hard to get used to. You did, though, and he asked you to move in with him this fall. While many relationships fell apart at that stage due to differences in living habits, you and Dylan had no problems living together; it felt natural. Since your relationship had survived so many hurdles intact, you were confident that it was strong enough to endure for a few months while you studied abroad.

“It’s only a few months, babe, and then I’ll be right back here with you,” you said.

“I know,” Dylan replied. “The thing is, though, I can’t even sleep when you’re not beside me on roadies; what’s going to happen when you’re gone?”

Your heart broke. You knew he didn’t mean to, but he was making you feel guilty for leaving.

“God, please don’t say stuff or I’ll never be able to leave!” you said, and you couldn’t control yourself anymore: you started sobbing into his neck.

“Shit, Y/N, please don’t cry,” Dylan murmured into your hair, trying to soothe you. “I didn’t mean to make you feel badly. I’m just going to miss you so much.”

You calmed down enough to look up at him. “I know. But you act like it’s so easy for me to pick up and move to Paris. FYI, it’s not: I’m scared out of my goddamn mind. What if I don’t find any friends? What if I have a hard time doing most of my coursework in French? I know I’m fluent but I didn’t grow up speaking the language like everyone else there…”

Dylan rubbed your back as you spilled your deepest fears. When you were finally done ranting, he said, “Feel any better?”

“A little,” you admitted. There was something cathartic about getting your fears out in the open. Once they were no longer living in your head, they seemed less scary, and sometimes, you didn’t even know why you were so anxious in the first place. You didn’t trust many people enough to open up to them, but Dylan was different. He was always different from everyone else; he made you feel at ease.

“You’re going to have no problem finding friends, Y/N. And UMich has tight connections with the Sorbonne, so if you’re having problems with the language barrier, they’ll be there to help you.”

“The latter is definitely true,” you conceded, “But I’m scared that I won’t fit in, or at the very least, that I’ll miss you too much to open up to anyone.”

There it was. Only when you said your biggest fear of them all out loud did it feel like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“God, I feel like such an asshole,” Dylan said, “I should never have made you feel guilty like that.”

“It’s not about what you said before, Dyl,” you replied, “It’s just really hard for me to open up to people. When I’m around you, though, I feel safe enough to be my true self.”

Dylan was quiet for a moment before saying, “Look at me, Y/N.” You had been averting your gaze, but you forced yourself to look into his soft but steady brown eyes. “You don’t need me to open up to people. You are the smartest, funniest, and kindest person I know. I don’t know why you don’t believe in yourself the way I believe in you, but you’ve got to.”

You swallowed. This was the other thing you loved most about Dylan: even though it was hard to hear sometimes, he called everything like it was. You were using him as an excuse to fail, and you knew it.

“You’re right, babe,” you said. “Thanks for always believing in me.”

“Of course. And you know I’m just a phone call away, right? I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night: if you need to talk to me, I’ll pick up.”

“I know,” you said. “Thanks for being there for me.”

           “So your friend just doesn’t want to go anymore?” you asked your best friend, Y/F/N.

           “She said she had something else come up.” Y/F/N said.

           “So she’s blowing off a Red Wings game for something else? Is she crazy?” you asked with a smile on your face.

           “I think so. Anyway, are you interested?” she asked.

           “Duh! I’m not turning down a Red Wings ticket.” You said.

           “Great, well we have to leave here in about an hour.” Your friend said.

           “I’ll go get changed.” You said and went upstairs to your room.

 What luck you had! Your best friend had stopped by your house to pick up her phone charger from the night before when she came over to watch The Walking Dead. While she was there, her friend Allie called her and told her that she couldn’t make it to tonight’s Red Wings game. Y/F/N didn’t want the ticket to go to waste and knew how much of a hockey fan you were, so she invited you to go. You didn’t have much time to prepare so you just threw your hair into a low fishtail braid. You got your red sweater on over a white tank top and slid on some black jeans. You went downstairs to rejoin your friend and to get your shoes on. The two of you chatted for a little while before you headed to the arena.

 You had seats in the third row behind the goalie which weren’t bad at all. When you both sat down, the teams came out onto the ice to warmup. You watched the players and took a few pictures on your phone. You set your phone in your lap and watched the players skate around when you caught the eyes of Dylan Larkin. You knew who he was because all of your friends had crushes on him.

           You smiled at him and felt your stomach flutter as he skated over towards you.

           Dylan smiled at you and tossed a puck over the glass, making sure it was you who caught it.

           You caught it and smiled over at him, mouthing a thank you.

           He nodded and winked at you before skating away with his team.

           Y/F/N looked at Dylan and then at you. “Did that just happen?” she asked.

           You smiled and shrugged. “I guess so.” You said.

 You watched the game with Y/F/N, puck in hand, and cheered for the Red Wings. They ended up winning which made the night even better. When the game ended, you walked towards the exit with your friend, talking about the game. You came to a stop when a large hand touched your arm gently.

           “Excuse me miss?” a deep voice said.

           You turned to see a rather large security guard smiling down at you. “Yes?”

           “You need to come with me.” He said.

           “She didn’t do anything.” Y/F/N said.

           “Mr. Larkin requested to see her.” The guard said.

           You felt your stomach drop as you looked at your friend. She gave you the go ahead and you walked with the guard.

 He led you down a series of hallways and an elevator before walking you down a hallway towards the dressing rooms. Your stomach began doing flips as you saw Dylan standing in the hallway in just the bottom part of his uniform. The guard led you to him and then walked back down the hall.

           “I’m glad he found you.” Dylan smiled.

           You looked at him and smiled shyly. “You were looking for me?” you asked.

           He nodded. “I know this sounds really cliché, but when I saw you in the stands, I knew I had to get to know you.” he said.

           You smiled and bit your bottom lip nervously. “Well here I am.” You said.

           Dylan smiled at you, noticing your nervous demeanor. “Listen, this is probably a little intimidating, so would you like to go get a bite to eat with me?” he asked.

           “Sure.” You said and smiled. “I’ll wait here for you.” you said.

           “Okay, great.” He smiled and went into the dressing room.

 After a few minutes, Dylan walked back out and held his arm out for you. You held his arm gently and followed him down the hallway and out a back door. Dylan took you to his car and opened the passenger door for you. When you got in, he shut the door and walked around to get into the driver’s side.

           “First of all, I’m Dylan Larkin, it’s nice to meet you.” he smiled, holding his hand out.

           “Right, I guess we didn’t really do introductions. I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too.” You said and shook his hand, smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little shocked. Stuff like this never happens to me.”

           Dylan smiled and nodded. “I get it.” He said. “What are you hungry for, Y/N?”

           “How about pizza?” you suggested.

           “That sounds great.” He smiled.

 Dylan drove the two of you to a local pizza place that stayed open late. The whole drive there, you both talked about yourselves to get to know each other a bit more. During your late dinner, you and Dylan learned even more about each other, and ended up really hitting it off. After you finished eating, Dylan paid for the meal and drove you to your house. He pulled into the driveway and walked you up to the door, holding your hand gently as you both continued the conversation you had started in the car.

           “Well this is my stop.” You said, stopping in front of your door and turning to face Dylan.

           “I had a really nice time, Y/N. I’m really glad you got to go to the game tonight.” He smiled.

           “I am too.” You smiled back at him. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.” You said shyly.

           “Maybe tomorrow?” he suggested.

           “I’d like that.” You smiled. The two of you exchanged numbers at the restaurant, so you knew you could plan something whenever. “Thank you so much for tonight, Dylan.”

           “Well thank you for coming with me.” He smiled. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” he said and leaned down to kiss your cheek gently.

           You smiled up at him and nodded. “Really soon.” You said. “Goodnight, Dylan.”

           “Goodnight.” He smiled and made sure you got inside okay.

           For as long as you can remember, every Christmas Eve, you and your family would spend the night at your friend Dylan’s house. Your families were both so close, so it made sense to spend Christmas together. This year was different, and not because you weren’t friends with Dylan, it was just because your families couldn’t get together this year because everyone was all split up. Your parents were visiting family in Minnesota, and Dylan’s parents decided to spend Christmas in the Keys. Christmas was your favorite holiday, and not being able to spend it with your family bummed you out. Sure, you all did a present exchange before your parents left, but it wasn’t the same. Dylan knew how much Christmas meant to you, so he decided to surprise you with a little bit of nostalgia.

           You were watching Christmas movies on Christmas Eve Day, when you heard a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, so you furrowed your brow as you walked over to answer it. When you opened the door, you smiled at the familiar face on your porch. “Dylan? What are you doing here?” you asked.

           Dylan smiled and hugged you tight. “I wanted to surprise you for Christmas.” He said. “Can I come in?” he asked.

           “Of course, come on in.” you smiled and let him inside. “So what surprise did you have in mind?” you asked.

           “Well, I know that it’s just us this year, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have Christmas like we used to.” He smiled.

           You smiled and looked at him. “Okay, and how will we do that?” you asked him.

           “My parents are on vacation, so the house is empty. I thought that you and I could spend Christmas Eve over there, like the old days.” He smiled.

           “Dylan.” You smiled. “That’s really sweet of you.” you said.

           “Well I know how much Christmas means to you, so I wanted to make it special.” He smiled. “So what do you say?”

           You smiled. “Of course, I say yes.” You said and hugged him. “I’ll go get packed.”

 You went upstairs and got an overnight bag packed before coming downstairs again. Dylan smiled and took you out to his car then drove the two of you to his parents’ house. When he pulled up, you got out of the car with him and went inside. Dylan turned the lights on revealing a fully decorated Christmas tree, stocking hanging over the fireplace, and a stack of Christmas movies on the coffee table.

           You smiled and looked around. “Did you do all of this?” you asked softly.

           “Guilty.” He smiled. “I left the star for you to do.” He said.

           You smiled and looked over at him. “So what if I had said no?” you asked, smirking.

           “You can’t resist me.” He smiled over at you. “Come on.” He said and took your bags upstairs before he brought you the star.

           “Thank you, sir.” You smiled and stood on your tip-toes, but still couldn’t reach.

           “Here.” He said and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting you up.

           You smiled and put the star on top of the tree, then got down with Dylan’s help. “Now it’s finished.” You smiled.

           “Yes it is.” He smiled. “How about dinner?”

           “That sounds great.” You smiled.

 You helped Dylan make the dinner that you always had, but you made the portions a bit smaller since it was just the two of you. After dinner, you helped Dylan with the cleanup and then sat down in the living room with him.

           “I have something for you.” he said and went into the other room, coming back out with a present.

           “What’s this? We already did out present exchange.” You smiled.

           “I know. Open it.” He smiled, sitting next to you and handing you the box.

           You opened the box and saw a brand new pair of skates, in your favorite color. You smiled and looked over at him. “Dylan, these are great.” You said. “Thank you.” you said and hugged him.

           “You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Maybe we can try them out tonight?”

           “Tonight?” you asked.

           “The ponds out back.” He smiled. “I just so happened to bring my skates too.” He winked.

           You smiled and shook your head. “You are incredible, Dylan.”

           “I know.” He smiled.

 You both got bundled up and carried your skates out to the ponds behind his house. He helped you lace yours up and then got his on as well. He helped you onto the ice and the two of you skated around for a while. You talked with him about old memories and about how things have changed, then you talked about life in general. The whole time you skated, he held your hand to make sure you were safe. After skating for a bit more, Dylan stood in front of you and skated backwards, spinning you gently, a smirk on his face.

           “What are you doing?” you asked him, holding onto his hands.

           “Spinning.” He smiled.

           “How do I get you to stop?” you asked, smiling.

           “Kiss me.” He said, pulling you closer to him.

           The comment caught you off guard, so you put your hands on his shoulders gently, trying to keep your balance. “What?” you said softly.

           Dylan smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Kiss me.” He repeated.

           You smiled and felt your heartbeat picking up. “Okay.” You said and leaned up.

           He reached one hand up to hold your chin gently, and pressed his lips against yours.

           You had dreamt of this moment since you were kids, and now that it was finally happening, you could barely stay on your feet. As you deepened the kiss, light snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

           Dylan pulled away gently and smiled down at you. “We just made it snow.” He joked.

           You smiled up at him and nodded. “We did.” You said and rubbed his cheek gently. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” You admitted.

           Dylan smiled down at you and nodded. “I have too. Lucky for us, our first kiss was magical.” He winked.

           You smiled and nodded. “Christmas is pretty magical.” You said.

           “Merry Christmas, Y/N.” he said softly.

           “Merry Christmas, Dylan.” You said back.

Your stomach was doing flips as you got ready for your first date with Dylan Larkin. It wasn’t like this was the first time you were hanging out with him; you’d been friends with him for a couple of years now. You liked Dylan a lot, and when he finally got the courage to ask you out on a date, you were absolutely over the moon with excitement! He told you to dress comfortable, but you still wanted to look cute. You got on a pair of white denim shorts and a flowing red tank top. You put on your favorite pair of white flats and decided to go with a half-up hairstyle. When you were ready, you headed down the hallway to the living room where you waited for Dylan to get there. When you heard the knock on your apartment door, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

           You walked to the door and opened it, smiling at Dylan who stood in front of your door in jeans and a red polo. “Hey, I’m glad you got the red shirt memo.” You joked.

           Dylan smiled and nodded. “Yeah, me too.” He smiled. “You look beautiful.” He said softly.

           You felt your cheeks turning pink and you smiled. “Thank you. You too.” You said and then blushed even more. “I mean…”

           He smiled, “It’s okay. So are you hungry?”

           “Yeah, starving.” You smiled, glad that he changed the subject.

           “Great. Well let’s get going.” He said and took your hand gently.

 He led you down the hallway to the elevators and got inside with you. The two of you rode the elevator down to the lobby and headed to Dylan’s car. You noticed that he didn’t have his regular car, but instead had a black pickup truck. It was a decent looking truck, and you smiled as Dylan opened the passenger door for you. He got into the driver’s seat and drove you to your favorite spot to eat in the city. He walked you inside and the two of you sat at a round booth in the corner of the restaurant. You both looked at the menu and ordered what you each wanted. When the waitress took the orders, she walked off, leaving you and Dylan alone.

           “So are you nervous?” he asked.

           You smiled and shrugged a little. “I guess I’m sort of nervous. I’m not nervous about being with you, I’m just nervous about being with you on a date. I don’t want to mess things up.” You admitted.

           Dylan smiled softly and took your hand gently. “Y/N, you don’t have to be nervous. There is absolutely no way that you could mess things up. I like you a lot and I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.” He said.

           You smiled and kissed his cheek gently. “Thank you Dylan.” You said softly.

 The two of you enjoyed dinner together before Dylan walked you out to the truck. He held your hand as he drove out of the city. The two of you talked about different memories you had with each other and eventually, you ended up in a large open field. He drove the truck into the middle of the field and turned the engine off.

           “Dylan what are we doing here?” you asked, smiling.

           “Wait here until I come get you. Trust me.” He smiled and kissed your cheek.

 He walked around to the back of the truck and started getting things ready. You looked at your lap so you didn’t spoil the surprise. After a few minutes, Dylan came up to your door and opened it.

           “Ready?” he smiled.

           You smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” You said.

           Dylan held your hand and walked you to the back of the truck where he had an air mattress blown up in the bed of the truck. There were blankets, pillows, and some boxes of your favorite kinds of candy. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I thought we could watch the sunset and then do some stargazing.”

           You smiled and looked up at him. “You are the best.” You said and kissed his cheek.

           Dylan smiled and shrugged. “I try to be. Let’s get up there.” He said.

 He helped you up onto the bed and sat down on it with you. He wrapped a blanket around both you and his shoulders, and gave you a box of candy. The two of you spend the evening watching the sunset and then stargazing. You were both cuddled up with him on the mattress the whole time. Around two in the morning, you realized how late it was, so Dylan drove you back to your apartment. He walked you to your door and held your hands gently.

           “I had a really nice time with you tonight, Y/N.” he said.

           “I did too.” You smiled up at him. “This was definitely the best first date ever.” You said.

           Dylan blushed gently and smiled. “Well thank you very much.” He said. “So I know that we’ve given each other little pecks here and there, but can I have a goodnight kiss?”

           You smiled and felt the butterflies again. “Of course.” You smiled.

 Dylan held your hands gently and leaned down, placing his lips onto yours. You returned his gentle kiss and felt fireworks. When he pulled away slowly, you immediately wanted to kiss him again.

           “I don’t want to take things too far.” He said shyly.

           You smiled and nodded. “It’s okay, Dylan. Thank you for not pushing.”

           “Well I’ll let you get some sleep, I need to get home and get to sleep.” He smiled. “Thank you for tonight, Y/N.”

           “Thank you too, Dylan.” You hugged him tight and smiled. “Let’s do it again some time.”

           He smiled, hugging you back. “For sure.” He smiled. “Night.” He said

           “Night.” You said and went into your apartment.

           The day that Dylan Larkin got drafted to the Detroit Red Wings was the best day of your life, and not for the reason you would think. Even though it was almost two years ago, you still remember it like it happened yesterday. You met Dylan during your freshman year of high school, and the two of you hit it off almost immediately. You could tell him anything, and he could do the same with you. You knew that hockey was the most important thing to him, and you promised him that you would be with him every step of the way. Dylan asked you to come with him to Draft Day and of course, you said yes. That whole day was pretty crazy, but it was also an amazing day.

 You walked into the large arena with Dylan and his family. You looked around at all of the other young hockey players and the NHL teams’ representatives. It was all a lot to take in, and you could tell that Dylan was nervous. When his parents went to find their seats, you walked around the arena with Dylan.

           You nudged his arm gently and smiled. “How are you feeling?” you asked him.

           Dylan looked at you and smiled softly. “I’m alright I think.” He said. “It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”

           You nodded. “Yeah it is. Once they call your name, you’re going to feel a lot better.” You smiled.

           Dylan nodded. “What if they don’t?” he asked.

           You looked up at him and bit your bottom lip. You took his hand gently and walked him outside of the auditorium and into the lobby. You held both of his hands and stood in front of him, facing him. “Dylan James Larkin, listen to me.” You started.

           Dylan looked at you and nodded.

           “You are an outstanding hockey player, and an even more outstanding guy. People are going to see that, and some people already have. You are going to do just fine out there, and they’re going to call your name.” you said.

           “Y/N, what if they don’t?” he asked softly.

           “It’s a tiny chance that they won’t, Dylan. If they don’t, then you’ll come back here next year and they’ll call it then.” You rubbed his hands gently. “I guarantee that they’ll call it and you’re gonna look at me while I say I told you so.” You smiled softly.

           Dylan smiled and nodded. “Alright, alright.” He said softly. “Come here.” He said and held his arms out.

           You hugged him tight and smiled, feeling at home in his embrace. “You’re going to get it.” You said softly.

           Dylan held you close and smiled. “Thank you for all of this.” He said softly.

           “Anytime. Now let’s go get our seats.” You smiled.

 The two of you went to your seats next to his parents, and sat down. While they went through the opening speeches and the other teams’ picks, you noticed Dylan getting nervous. You reached over and held his hand gently, intertwining your fingers with his. He looked over at you and smiled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. As they began to call names for the Detroit Red Wings, you felt Dylan’s grip on your hand get tighter. After they called thirteen names, the general manager of the Red Wings spoke into the microphone.

           “For our fourteenth pick, on behalf of the Detroit Red Wings, we would like to pick Dylan Larkin.” He spoke.

           Dylan’s jaw dropped and he looked over at his parents and then at you.

           You smiled and nudged his arm gently. “Go up there.” You smiled.

 Dylan walked up with a smile on his face and received his jersey. After all of the interviews and press he had to do, Dylan walked out and met you and his family in the lobby. He jogged over and hugged each of you tightly, a giant smile on his face. When he got to you, his parents went to the parking lot to pull the car around.

           Dylan smiled and hugged you tightly, rubbing your back gently. “I did it.” He said softly.

           You smiled and hugged him back. “You did it.” You said. “I told you they’d call you.” you winked as you pulled away.

           He smiled and nodded. “I know you did.” He said. “You were right.” He said.

           “I’m always right, Larkin.” You teased, smirking.

           “You are.” He smiled. “Listen I have something for you.” he said.

           “You don’t have to give me anything.” You said softly.

           “I know, but I want to.” He said. He took your face in his hands gently and kissed you softly.

           At first you were a little surprised, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wanted this since you met him. You kissed back gently and put your arms around his waist gently.

           After a few minutes, Dylan pulled back gently and smiled down at you. “Sorry if that wasn’t something you were…”

           You interrupted him by pressing your lips against his again in a quick peck. You smiled up at him and rubbed his side gently. “It’s something I was hoping for.” You said.

           Dylan smiled and rubbed your cheek. “I’m glad because I was too.”

           “We better get out to the car.” You smiled.

 The two of you walked out to the parking lot and climbed into the car. Dylan’s family took Dylan and you out to lunch in celebration of his draft. Throughout the entire lunch, Dylan would hold your hand under the table, and he would tease you a little more than usual. When his parents dropped you off, he walked you up to your door and smiled at you, holding your hands gently.

           “Well thank you so much for everything, Y/N.” he said.

           You smiled and nodded. “No problem whatsoever.” You said. “Just promise not to forget about us little people when you’re in the big leagues.” You teased.

           Dylan got a serious look on his face. “Y/N, I would never forget about you. You’ve been my best friend for years. I’m taking you on this journey with me, I promise you that.” He said and rubbed your cheek gently.

           “I was just kidding.” You said softly.

           Dylan leaned down and kissed you gently. “You’re stuck with me, babe.” He smiled.

           You smiled and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” You said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

           He nodded and smiled. “Yes you will.” He said. “Thank you again.” He said.

           “You’re welcome.” You smiled. “Bye, Dylan.” You kissed his cheek and went inside.

           “Bye.” He said and smiled.

 To say that you were officially dating Dylan Larkin would be a bit of a stretch. You had met him at a charity event, and kept in touch after that. The two of you would go on dates, you would stay at each other’s houses, and you were committed to each other. The only difference between you two and other couples was that Dylan refused to call you his girlfriend. You had asked him why he didn’t want to take the official title, but he never had a good reason. You wanted to be official, but Dylan seemed to want to just be friends who do couple things. Your friends and family told you that if he wasn’t willing to commit to just you, he was probably seeing other girls on the road. You didn’t want to believe that could be the case, but it had crossed your mind. One day, you finally decided to ask him.

 You woke up to see the bed beside you empty. You let out a sigh and sat up, stretching. You picked up your phone and called Dylan’s number.

           “Hello?” he answered after a few rings.

           “Hey you didn’t say goodbye or anything.” You told him.

           “I know I was in a rush to get to practice today.” He said.

           You bit your bottom lip and took a deep breath. “Dylan, are you cheating on me?” you blurted out. You wanted to talk to him about this in person, but he left before you could.

           “What? Why would you ever think that?” he asked, almost offended.

           “You refuse to commit to just me, and you rarely act like an actual boyfriend. What am I supposed to think?” you asked him.

           “I’m not cheating on you, Y/N. Who told you that I was?” he asked.

           “No one told me, Dylan. I’ve just been talking to my friends and-.” You were cut off by Dylan’s voice.

           “I’m not cheating on you. Just because I don’t want a silly title right now doesn’t mean I’m cheating on you. Your friends are just mad because you’re with someone and they’re not.” He said.

           You rubbed your face and sighed. “I don’t want to do this Dylan, why can’t you just make it official?” you asked.

           “I can’t do this right now. I need to get back to practice.” He said and hung up the phone.

 You hung up and sighed, trying to fight back tears. You knew that any sane person would call it quits with Dylan and move on. You contemplated leaving, but your heart was set on Dylan. Some of his antics upset you, but you were in love with him. When you really thought about it, the only thing that you really didn’t like was the fact that he was sometimes distant and the lack of a title. Other than those things, you loved Dylan and thought he was an amazing partner. Even if your family and friends thought you were absolutely insane to stay with him, your heart wanted to stay.

 It had been almost a week since the last time you talked to Dylan, and you had only seen him on T.V when you watched the games. You had been quiet and had barely left the house. Not hearing from Dylan and not seeing him took a surprising toll on you. One night, you were lying in bed watching some movies when your phone rang. Judging by the massive drop your stomach just did, you had a hunch that it would be Dylan. Sure enough, his face popped up on the screen.

           “Hello?” you answered, trying to hide your excitement.

           “Hey.” He said softly. “Can I come over?” he asked.

           You hesitated for a moment before answering him. “Sure.” You said.

           “I’ll be over in a few.” He said and hung up.

 You hung up your end and threw a hoodie on over your pajama shirt. You went downstairs to wait for him, and before you could even sit down the doorbell rang.

           You opened the door and saw Dylan standing there with a dozen roses. “Hey.” You said softly.

           Dylan waved to you and bit his bottom lip. “Can I come in?” he asked. Something about his tone was different.

           You let him in and shut the door behind him. “Those are pretty.” You told him.

           “They’re for you. I know I can’t expect you to forgive me because of some roses, but I figured I’d try.” He said, handing you the bunch or flowers.

           “Well thank you, Dylan.” You told him, putting the flowers in a vase full of water on the coffee table. “So what brings you over?” you asked him, offering him a spot to sit on the couch.

           He walked over and sat next to you on the couch. “Us.” He said softly.

           You got a lump in your stomach and nodded. “Okay, go ahead.” You told him.

           Dylan took a deep breath before he spoke. “I want to say sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry for not acting like a decent boyfriend, and I’m sorry for snapping at you on the phone. I’ve been under a lot of stress with the games and I took it out on you. I know it’s not an excuse, but that’s the truth. I’m sorry for being a jerk.” He said.

           You touched his hand gently while he finished his apology. “Dylan, it’s okay. I was wrong to accuse you.” you told him.

           “I get it though; I understand why you would think that. I swear I never cheated on you, Y/N.” he told you, holding your hand gently.

           You knew by the look in his eyes that he was telling the truth. “Okay, I believe you.” you told him. “I just still don’t understand why you refuse to be official.” You told him.

           He nodded. “I did it to protect you. I’ve seen so many hockey girlfriends get hate and harassment from fans, and I didn’t want that to happen to you.” he admitted.

           “Babe, I appreciate that I really do, but I can handle it. As long as I get to come home to you and as long as I know that you and the team can stand me, I’ll be okay.” You reassured him.

           He looked over to you and nodded, pulling you into a hug. “How did I get so lucky to have a girlfriend like you?” he asked, kissing your cheek.