…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day lovelies!!! This chapter is 5k+ words, so I hope you enjoy! 😇
Bianca Yang was in her kitchen enjoying her morning cup of tea when she came face-to-face with Rasmus Sandin.
She’d heard every single little thing about him, of course. She felt like she already knew so much, she was actually shocked that it took her this long to actually meet him. What colour his hair was. What colour his eyes were. How tall he was. How he had a nice smile. The exact pink hue of his lips. How the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. How big his hands were. How big his feet were. What position he played in hockey. Where he lived. What car he drove. What he liked to do with his spare time. Who his best friends were. How he passed the time.
The only thing Bianca didn’t know was why he was in her kitchen at such an early hour.
“Good morning,” he greeted her politely. “I’m Rasmus. You must be Bianca.”
She raised her mug to him slightly, as if to cheer him. Rasmus had invited Lusine to the game against the Chicago Blackhawks on December 11th even though he wasn’t playing. He was in the press box, and she was in the family lounge with the likes of Aberdeen and Bee, but she stayed so late at Rasmus’s house that night that Bianca heard her get into their apartment at 2am. The team had gone on another west coast road trip following that – despite the game against Calgary being cancelled – and Rasmus was busy with physiotherapy while Lusine was busy with her final midterms. The team had gotten back from Seattle late Sunday night/early Monday morning, and now they only had one more game against St. Louis until they broke for Christmas. “You spent the night, huh?”
“I did,” he nodded. “Clothes were kept on, though.”
“Clothes are always kept on with Lusine,” Bianca said. “She talks a lot about you, you know.”
“She talks a lot about you too,” Rasmus said. “How you guys met, how close you are, all that stuff. How you're best friends. You’re her favourite person in the world.”
“Ooooooh no no no,” Bianca giggled, shaking her head. “I’m one of her favourites, for sure. But ever since you came into the picture, you’ve been her favourite person.”
Rasmus couldn’t help but blush. Here was someone that knew Lusine better than anyone, so her words meant something. Bianca was able to see things in Lusine other people couldn’t see, and that maybe he couldn’t see yet either. “You think so?”
“I know so,” she said confidently. “And by the way she talks about you, I’m not even offended. Although I do want to make the obligatory statement that if you hurt her or make her disavow love and turn into a nun, I’ll personally castrate you.”
Rasmus giggled. He wasn’t exactly planning on doing that. If he had his way, Lusine would be anything but a nun. “Deal,” he said confidently.
Before their conversation could go any further, they both heard Lusine’s footsteps on the creaky wooden floor of the apartment. Soon enough, she appeared in the kitchen, still in her pajamas (like the all were) and hair in a messy bun. “G’morning,” she smiled at her roommate. Bianca smiled back. “What are we talking about?”
“Rasmus was just mentioning how he’s a great cook and is gonna make us breakfast,” Bianca smirked.
Rasmus laughed, looking at Bianca while Lusine looked in between them. “Oh really?” she asked, keeping her eyes on Rasmus.
“Mhmm,” he nodded. “I make a mean scrambled egg.”
***
Later that afternoon, Lusine found herself at the Mastercard Performance Centre for the Leafs Family Skate. Being neither a Leaf, nor family, nor knowing how to skate, she felt a bit awkward as Rasmus pulled into a parking spot. Rasmus turned off the car and took the keys out of the ignition, but he made no movements to get out. Instead, he sat in the driver’s seat, looking over at Lusine. “You okay?” he asked.
Lusine nodded. “Of course. I just don’t know how to skate. You’re going to have to teach me.”
“Me and the room full of hockey players who know how to skate pretty well,” he smiled.
Lusine did smile, if only for a second, before continuing. “I used to know how to skate, you know. I did it all the time.”
“You told me.”
“It’s just that after the accident, my parents wouldn’t let me. They said I could fall and smack my head on the ice and crack my skull open and die. They said someone could fall and the edge of their skate could slit my wrist or my neck and I’d bleed out. They never let me go skating again. Not even on school field trips. I couldn’t even go to arenas to watch my friends,” she recounted.
Rasmus nodded in silence. At this point, he knew she only wanted someone to listen. For someone experiencing a lot of firsts because of circumstances beyond her control, it was important for her to reflect on them as much as possible, regardless of how eager or excited she was to actually do the thing. “At least you’re able to learn again with me now,” he offered with a soft smile. “I promise that I’ll make it fun.”
Lusine smiled back at him. “You make everything fun.”
They walked inside together, holding hands, Rasmus leading the way into the back, which was decorated with a mix of chic and cozy decorations and kid-friendly stuff. About half the team was already there, sipping on hot chocolate and munching on some TimBits Wayne Simmonds bought as “skating fuel”. Lusine caught up with Aryne and Courtney as Rasmus went to find her some skates. By the time he came back, he was walking in with William, Aberdeen, Jason, his wife Jennifer, and their four daughters. The room got a whole lot cozier. It was putting Lusine at ease.
When the whole team arrived, people started to put on skates. For those who knew how to do it by themselves, they did it along with the guys. But Lusine had to wait for Rasmus, because she didn’t know what she was doing. He’d gotten her hockey skates, too, and she only remembered ever skating with figure skating skates as a kid. When he was finished, he helped her put on the skates and tie them up properly, much like her dad or older brothers did when she was a kid: standing in front of her, blade of the skate between his thighs. From beyond him, she could see John tying up little Jace’s skates, and Morgan tying up Bee’s. All of Jason’s daughters were putting on their own skates – even his youngest.
“Smiiiiiile!” Aberdeen cooed as she brought her phone up beside Rasmus and Lusine. They posed with giant smiles – and Lusine’s foot still in between Rasmus’s thighs. Aberdeen gave them a thumbs up when she was done. “Cuuuuute! I took fifteen. I’ll send them to you, Lusine.”
When Aberdeen walked away, Rasmus focused his attention back on Lusine. “Are you excited?”
“Very,” she nodded. “Maybe not to fall on my ass, but yeah, I’m excited.”
“I won’t let you fall on your ass,” Rasmus dismissed the notion. “Besides, if you’re going down, I’m going down with you.”
“You have a knee to protect,” she warned. “I have nothing to lose besides my dignity.”
Ramus buckled her helmet and made sure the laces weren’t tied too tight and that she got used to the feeling of standing with the skates on her feet before he led her to the walk out. There were so many people on the ice, and Lusine even noticed some sleds for the babies and toddlers. She looked at Rasmus as he stepped onto the ice effortlessly and immediately turned back around to face her, holding his hands out. “Ready?”
“I don’t need to hold your hand,” she said confidently. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Step out onto the ice with bent knees,” he said. “You don’t want to skate with straight legs.”
She did as she was told. The skates were freshly sharpened, so they were extra slippery, but she was able to step onto the ice with both feet and not faceplant or fall flat on her ass. It was an amazing start. It was maybe a bit of a beginner move, but she brought her arms out for balance. “What next?” she asked.
“You find your balance?” Rasmus asked.
“I think so.”
“When you’re ready, go like this,” he showed her, positioning his left leg away from him but the toe of his right skate forward. “You push off with this leg,” he tapped his left leg with his thigh, “and point this one to guide you where you want to go,” he tapped his right leg. “Where do you want to go?”
“Towards you.”
There was a deeper meaning in that statement, that was for sure. But for now, both were focused on making sure she could do this. Lusine did as she was told, and despite not going far at all and wobbling, she did it. She at least wasn’t in the same place as she was before. “Good! Good!” she could hear Rasmus egging her on. “Now do the exact same thing again but with the other leg.”
Lusine did it. Slowly, very slowly, and still wobbly, but she did it. “Look at me!”
“Come towards me like you said,” Rasmus egged her on. “This time put some power in the push, lilla fågel. It will get you further.”
She pushed off again, and again, and again, going further and further each time. By about the fourth, she had a giant smile on her face, as did Rasmus, and they were both laughing as she skated towards him, and he skated backwards so she could never get to him. She almost lost her balance three times, but they were able to skate the width of the rink. And once she did, she was finally able to skate into Rasmus’s arms, laughing like a schoolgirl as Rasmus cheered her on like she’d just landed a triple axel. “I did it!” she yelled happily, looking back at where she’d started to where she was now. “I did it and I didn’t even fall!”
“You were amazing!” Rasmus said. “Ready to do it again?”
And so they did. They were left alone while Rasmus skated backwards and Lusine always tried to catch up to him. At some points, William and Aberdeen would skate by them holding hands to cheer her on; Morgan and Bee did as well, clapping and chanting her name like she’d just made a big save; in both instances Lusine was acutely aware that neither Aberdeen nor Bee knew how to skate very well either – that they were holding hands with William and Morgan and using them, essentially, to help them go a reasonable speed along the ice. So maybe she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know how to skate or was bad at skating.
“I don’t think this one should be teaching you how to skate,” a voice remarked sarcastically from behind Lusine. Before she had the chance to look back (and possible lose her balance, Auston Matthews had come into view, skating along beside her at her glacial pace. “He only learned how to skate backwards yesterday,” he smirked.
“I skate backwards better than you!” Rasmus retorted playfully, causing Auston to laugh.
As quickly as he skated up beside her, he was gone. Lusine skated into Rasmus’s arms again, and he held her for longer than usual. “One more time?” he asked.
Lusine shook her head. “Can I hold your hand now?” she asked, nodding her head over to where William and Aberdeen were across the rink. “Can we skate like that? It looks so sweet.”
Rasmus blushed. He grabbed her hand immediately and squeezed it. “Of course,” he said, positioning himself beside her and waiting for her to push off so he could start skating too. “Maybe Aberdeen will take more pictures of us. It’s been twenty minutes since our last photoshoot with her.”
Lusine couldn’t help but giggle. “She thinks we’re cute, huh?”
“She thinks we’re adorable,” Rasmus said. “Clearly, since she’s always taking pictures of us.”
“That’s because we forget a lot. We need to stop forgetting.”
As if on cue, William and Aberdeen were skating towards them, and Aberdeen’s phone was in front of her face. “I just got the cutest pictures of you guys!” she squealed. “I’ll send them to you, Lusine.”
Rasmus and Lusine looked at each other and smiled.
***
The rest of the family skate was amazing. Rasmus and Lusine skated the entire time, stopping only when the hot chocolate was brought out to the bench. They skated with Aberdeen and William, and then with Pierre Engvall and Timothy Liljegren, before ending off with Aryne and John. John had been pulling his two boys in a sled for about half the skate, and eventually, when Aryne took the boys out when they got fussy, John suggested Lusine get in and have Rasmus pull her around.
She did.
She giggled the entire time, and of course, Aberdeen was the official photographer. Rasmus was taking videos and selfies too, and Lusine could only imagine what she looked like hanging out of the kid-sized sled. When they were all sledded out, they posed for some group photos and individual couple shots (yes, couple shots, even thought, well…never mind) before going back into the locker room and taking off their skates.
Rasmus made sure to help Lusine take off her skates before running them back to where he found them. Alone with Aberdeen beside her on the bench, William off with Rasmus to return her skates, Aberdeen sent her every picture she took that afternoon. “Did you have fun?” Aberdeen asked.
“Loads. And my God, Jace and Axton are adorable,” Lusine responded.
“Yes!” Lusine exclaimed, unbuckling her helmet and pushing it off her head.
“I felt bad for Aryne at first because of it, but Axton is her twin, so it’s a perfect mix,” Aberdeen smiled.
Lusine nodded, and in a split-second, a flash-second, a nano-second, a micro-second, Lusine noticed Aberdeen’s eyes move up to look at her forehead. And in that split-second, flash-second, nano-second, micro-second, Lusine knew her makeup had rubbed off because of the helmet. She knew her big forehead scar was visible, at least somewhat. She took a deep breath and tried not to freak out. “By the way, is there a women’s washroom back here? I should probably go before we leave.”
“It’s just past the doors and down the hall to your left,” Aberdeen guided her. “I’ll let Rasmus know you’re in there.”
“Thanks,” she smiled, getting up and following her directions. She locked herself in the bathroom and rushed towards the mirror to check.
There her scar was, in all its big, ugly glory.
***
Lusine tried to get her mind off of Aberdeen – someone she highly respected – and God knows how many other people seeing her scar by making out with Rasmus once they got back to her apartment. She’d settled with herself quickly in the car that she wanted to finally lose her virginity and have sex with him, and she wanted to have that sex tonight. She was ready. Well, she was making herself ready. She was hyping herself up for it. Bianca had gone out for a booty call, so Lusine knew they were safe. She started kissing him the second they took off their shoes. Rasmus was slightly shocked but received it well, and soon his hands were all over her body. When they moved to her bedroom, they didn’t even stop kissing.
Rasmus’s hands kept slipping under her sweater, and her body felt hotter by the second as he continued to kiss her. Long, passionate kisses gave way to Rasmus biting and pulling her lower lip, short kisses that peppered her jawline, and long, wet kisses along her neck – he definitely left a hickey or two. Just another mark on her body – except this one would go away eventually. In her haste of deciding so quickly that she wanted to lose her virginity, she didn’t even consider that, if this was going to go where she expected it to go, where she wanted it to go, Rasmus would have to take off her sweater and see her body scars. But him seeing them was different than anyone else on the team or someone like Aberdeen seeing them – he’d already seen her facial ones.
But these ones were much bigger.
“Rasmus?” she breathed out between kisses.
“Hmmm?” he hummed, his hands underneath her sweater.
“There’s…you’re—you’re gonna see a few scars,” she said in a soft voice. Rasmus stopped kissing her to listen. “There’s one along my clavicle, and then—the one…it’s really big. It goes from my chest all the way to my back and it—it’s not—it’s just really big.”
“From the accident.”
She nodded. “From the accident.”
He nodded too before leaning in again and giving her softer, more romantic kisses – a change from the previous ones. Lusine could feel his fingertips at the hemline of her sweater again, but there was no direct action to raise it up. She realized her was waiting for her to lift it, so she did in one full scoop. She held her breath.
Rasmus just kept kissing her. There was no long look, no turning of her body to see the whole thing and how long it went on for – nothing. Nothing that she thought would happen did happen, and instead of being grateful, she wondered why. Was he overcompensating? Was he pretending not to notice even though they were glaringly obvious? She tried to shut her mind up and focus on the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. When she felt his hands wander to just below her breasts, she shivered.
“It doesn’t hurt if I touch it, does it?” he asked quickly.
“No. It just looks bad.”
More kisses. Then, she felt his hands moving along her exposed body. Down to the hem of her pants, then back up, then cupping her breasts through her bra, then back around. Eventually, he took off her pants, and bra, and any other article of clothing she didn’t realize she was still wearing, and she took off his shirt, and pants, and any other articles of clothing too. His fingertips grazed along her scar in parts, and every time it did, her body shivered. Rasmus picked up on it. There was no way he couldn’t. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.
“Yeah.”
“You keep shaking,” he continued. “You need to tell me if you’re nervous.”
“I will. But I’m not.”
Their kissing continued, and despite her best efforts to try to keep her mind on the actions that were happening, Lusine couldn’t get out of her own head. Did Rasmus think it looked disgusting? There was no way he didn’t notice them by now. God, and she even forgot to mention the scar that went down the top half of her back from the spinal fusion surgery. Was it all he thought about despite his constant kissing? Did he—
“Lusine.”
“What?”
“You just—you went, like, limp—”
“I just can’t believe this is happening,” she lied, so quickly she couldn’t even believe herself. She kissed him quickly in hopes that he wouldn’t notice anything was wrong. “D’you have a condom?”
Rasmus looked her in the eye. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” she said quickly. “Is it in your wallet?”
Rasmus bent over the bed to reach for his pants on the floor. As he stretched, she was able to see every defined muscle in his torso, every curve and grind stereotypical of a hockey player. He wasn’t a bodybuilder, but he was toned. Lusine knew she was biased, but she honestly thought he was one of the most beautiful people alive. He was perfect in every way to her, not least because of his near-perfect body. Unlike hers, it didn’t have scars all over it; it didn’t have memories of near-tragedies that would be there forever. She could only imagine what he thought when he looked at her body and saw her scars. How could he even be here right now, on top of her on a bed?
“Lusine—”
—A part of her wondered if he was holding back. If he was ready to vomit, especially when he saw the scar that curved from her chest and all the way to her back—
“—Lusine—”
—She knew she would. They were hideous. What could he see in her?—
“—Lusine,” Rasmus’s voice finally snapped her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, lied through her damn teeth. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
She nodded. “Of course I am,” she spread her legs wide for him, putting her hands on his chest.
“I’ll go slow,” he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You need to tell me if it gets uncomfortable, okay? Or if it hurts. So I can stop.”
“Okay, I will.” He already wanted to back out. It was so clear. He took one look at her scars and said NOPE! But she didn’t blame him. They were hideous – as hideous as any scar could be – and they weren’t exactly an aphrodisiac.
She felt him push inside of her slowly, and right off the bat, she felt pain. She wasn’t an idiot – she knew the first time was always painful – but this was especially so. She felt horrible that it did, because it was all her fault. She couldn’t get out of her own head. “Does it hurt?” he breathed out.
“Yeah, but that’s to be expected, right?” she said quickly, trying to dodge all the thoughts in her mind. “Keep going.” She could feel Rasmus push in slightly more, and more pain jolting throughout her body. She didn’t want it to be this painful. Nobody wanted it to be this painful. But her thoughts and her body were so disconnected right now that she knew why it was painful in the first place. In her mind and thoughts being so disconnected, she didn’t even realize that tears started forming in her eyes and her body had winced at the push.
“Lusine—Lusine—” Rasmus’s voice was distant, even though he was so close. “Lusine, talk to me.”
“Keep going.”
“Lusine—no—if it hurts, I—are you crying?”
She tried to stop them from escaping. She really did. “No no. It’s okay. Keep going,” she urged, even going so far as to angle her hips up slightly so he’d go further into her, but it only resulted in more pain and more tears.
“No, Lusine—”
“It—it—it—” she stuttered out. “It hurts—”
“—Lusine, I’m gonna stop—”
“—No no please, keep goi—no—”
“—Lusine, I don’t want to hurt you—”
She couldn’t do this. It hurt so bad. And it was all because of her. She pushed his body off of her, despite her eyes being fogged with tears, and darted out of bed to run to the bathroom. She could hear Rasmus call out her name desperately, his loud footsteps following her to the bathroom, but she slammed the door and locked it before he had a chance to reach her.
“Lusine! Lusine!” Rasmus called out desperately, shaking the handle of the bathroom door and knocking frantically. “Lusine open up! Please open up!”
“Go! Just go!” she yelled back, making no effort to open the door for him.
“I’m not going anywhere. Please come out. We need to tal—”
“Go home!” she yelled louder. He could tell she was in the middle of sobbing by the sound of her voice and how shrill it was. He leaned his forehead against the door, trying to catch his breath and shaking his head to himself. “Please just go home, Rasmus.”
Rasmus knew he wasn’t going to go anywhere, regardless of how long it took her to go to the washroom. He would wait the entire night if he had to. But he also realized he was still naked and the condom was still on, despite what had happened. Quietly, he tiptoed back to her room and disposed of the condom before grabbing his boxers and at least putting those on. He went back into the hallway, outside the fortress wall of the washroom, sat outside of it, and waited.
He’d waited for at least an hour. Near the beginning, he could hear her sniffling and crying. His heart broke into a thousand pieces, knowing that she was just on the other side of the door and there was no way he could console her. He could hear her whimpers afterwards and it broke his heart even more, knowing that he’d caused her pain. He’d tried to be slow, nice, and considerate – it was her first time after all – but something just wasn’t right. He didn’t know if it was with him or her – likely him, if he was being honest – and he felt like beating himself up over it. Lusine was perfect in every way, and he couldn’t live with the fact that he’d caused her so much pain.
For the last half an hour of her being in the washroom, it was silent – completely silent. Rasmus’s mind went wild with what she could be doing or thinking in there. But then, like a stroke of magic, he heard the door unlock, and the handle turn. He looked up.
Rasmus’s eyes met Lusine’s. He looked like a lost puppy sitting on the floor waiting for her to emerge. The first thing he noticed was how red and puffy her eyes were – the crying really did a number on her. But despite that, she was still beautiful. She always was to him. It didn’t matter how she presented herself, what she wore, what she looked like, how her hair was styled – she was always, always beautiful to him.
She was wearing a robe tied tightly against her body. She looked genuine shocked to see him on the floor in his boxers. “You stayed?” she asked.
“Of course I stayed,” he said. As if there was another option. He got up from the floor in one swift movement, despite his knee injury. “Lusine, what happened?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.
She shook her head. She thought she was done crying, but she apparently wasn’t. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, fresh tears rolling down her face.
“Shhhhhh,” he cooed as she lay her head against his chest. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on.”
“I thought I was ready,” she said against his chest. There was really no other way to put it. “But I wasn’t. I wasn’t, because…” she paused.
“Because why?”
Lusine removed her head from his chest and looked him in the eye. He deserved to be looked at when she was being so totally raw and honest with him. She didn’t want to chicken out, no matter how hard she was crying or how it sounded. “Because I thought you’d see my scars and think I was vile.”
If his heart had shattered into a thousand pieces hearing her cry in the bathroom, then right now his heart shattered into a million pieces now. “Oh, Lusine,” he cooed, bringing her back against his body and hugging her tightly. She was so desperate to be as close as she could be to him, despite what had just happened, that she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and jumped into his arms. He caught her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around his body, and he ended up carrying her back to her bedroom where he sat on the bed with her body still wrapped around hers. “Lilla fågel, that’s not even near the truth and you know it. I would never—I could never.”
At the sound of her nickname escaping his lips, Lusine breathed in and out heavily, calming herself. She pulled away slightly so she could look him in the eye. “It’s so hard,” she whispered. “I want to believe you. And I do. It’s just so hard, because this is the first time all of this has happened to me.”
Rasmus knew what he had to say next. He knew they needed to get everything out of the way before they could move forward with anything. “You have to show them to me so we can get these thoughts out of your head.”
Lusine knew what she had to do next. She knew they needed to get everything out of the way before they could move forward with anything.
She moved to stand in front of Rasmus and loosen the tie of her robe. When it was undone, the robe dropped to the ground, and she stood in front of him completely naked. He could see now, finally, all the scars that she was so worried about. He saw the scar on her clavicle, light pink and as long as the bone was. He saw the big scar – the one she was most nervous about – starting in the centre of her chest and running down below her breasts before cutting across her ribs and around to her back, long and continuous and pinkish-white in colour. When she turned around, he saw a long scar along the top half of her spine – no doubt where she got the spinal fusion surgery.
When she turned back around to face him, Rasmus pulled her in close. He wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her. In the face of such stunning vulnerability, she was the most beautiful person alive, and in that room, Rasmus made a pact with himself that she’d know it for the rest of her life because he’d show it to her.
“Is it ugly?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” Rasmus said without hesitation, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Is it ugly. Is it ugly? Not ‘Are they ugly?’. It. Singular. Her body. She was talking about her body. “Not at all.”
“You don’t have to lie. It looks like I’ve been carved up.”
“I’m not lying,” he said again, just as quickly as last time, taking her hand and pulling her into him so their bodies could be touching again. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Lusine. You’re more than what you look like.”
She took a deep breath so she wouldn’t cry again, and surprisingly, she succeeded. She was probably all out of tears. “I’m sorry for what happened,” she whispered.
“Don’t apologize.”
“I want you to stay with me. Will you stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Lusine kissed him quickly. “Will you hold me?”
Rasmus nodded. He watched as Lusine moved quickly to put on underwear before slipping into her bed with him. He automatically wrapped his arms around her and snuggled into her like his life depended on it. More and more these days, his life was dependant on it. Bodies intertwined in bed, boobs pressed against his chest, legs intertwined, Lusine looked deep into Rasmus’s eyes. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever showed willingly.”
“Then it was an honour,” he kissed the tip of her nose.
Lusine could fall asleep like this every night. Every single inch of her wanted to. “There’s something about you, Rasmus. I don’t know what it is, but you’re magic.”
This fic will deal with mental health issues, including (manic) depression, thoughts of self-harm, thoughts of worthlessness, and issues regarding struggles to conceive.
A/N: This is another flashback chapter, and we finally learn what happened to Geneviève after she chose to leave Daniel and be with Jacob instead. If you remember Geneviève and Effie's chat in Banff from 'Charity' in Patience is a Virtue -- this is it!
October 2016 (flashback)
Geneviève never felt more Canadian than when she was watching hockey. With the start of the season having just happened, her new life with Jacob was beginning in Vancouver. It felt good to be home, though she was half a country away from what was technically her hometown; she was also halfway around the world from where she considered her home for the last five years. But all of that was gone because she’d met the love of her life and didn’t look back.
What made her more passionate about her work was that it could be done from anywhere, and with Vancouver as the new backdrop, her writing was flowing. A new book could realistically be out sometime next year. Best yet, she was in talks to take her writing even further – by starting her own magazine or literary journal. There were already investors. There were already people who had expressed interest. There were already powerful and influential backers. Anna Wintour had even told her, at a private dinner in New York City in late August, that it was the next logical step in her career, and she’d lend her name, a good word to all she came in contact with, and an article in the debut issue for support, “though I don’t think you’ll need it, being as clever as you are.”
Everything seemed to be working out.
So why, then, when she looked down at her phone during intermission and saw that there was still no reply from Henrietta Guernsey, a friend from England whose older brother (who was in love with her, but that was neither here nor there) worked in publishing, did butterflies appear in her stomach?
Can you send me your brother’s office number? Xx
Sent 4 days ago
***
It was when she and Jacob were out eating lunch at a restaurant when Maxim called, his voice a rushed and hurried mess. “Have you spoken to Daniel?” he asked.
Geneviève rolled her eyes. “Why would I speak to him?” she asked back, trying to understand her brother’s line of questioning. Things had long been over, done, and cleaned up with Daniel and, quite frankly, she didn’t want to have to think about him ever again.
Maxim sighed. “Well, have you seen the latest Bystander?”
“The new issue is sitting on the counter at home, waiting to be read when I get back from lunch with Jacob,” Geneviève said, referring to the society bible Tatler she’d written for a few times and appeared in countless others. She paused for a moment. “Why?”
“Please just read Bystander when you get home,” Maxim said.
***
TATLER BYSTANDER: Daniel Bamford, who is set to inherit his family’s vast fortune and become Earl Bamford in due time, arrived to the party with Lady Pandora Livingstone, daughter of the Earl of Dulwich. After splitting from critically acclaimed humourist and public speaker Geneviève Monette, daughter of French ambassador Julien Monette, Bamford and Livingstone were quick to debut their relationship at the wedding of Lady Pandora’s friend, Arabella Baldwin. Though little is known about the split, friends reveal Monette left Bamford for a hockey player from her native Canada. Bamford couldn’t have been devastated by the split, however, as his quick turnaround to Lady Pandora caused some eyebrows to raise.
***
Jacob could tell that something was bothering Geneviève when they got home from lunch and she spent the afternoon reading. He didn’t know what exactly her brother had spoken to her about on the phone, but he could tell it affected her.
He cuddled up with her on the couch, and she welcomed him with open arms and a share of the blanket. She had the newest issue of Tatler open on her lap. “Everything okay, my sotnös?” he asked softly, placing a kiss on her shoulder, then one on her neck, then one on her temple.
Geneviève nodded her head. “Just England stuff.”
“What England stuff?”
She sighed slightly. “Tatler wrote about me leaving Daniel,” she revealed. “It was in this part of the issue called Bystander where they talk about all the gossip to do with, like, high society or whatever. So it’s out in the media now, which isn’t ideal but I’m sure it will blow over. The only reason why it’s out anyway is because Daniel already has a new girlfriend.”
“Oh, really?”
Geneviève nodded her head. She obviously did not care. She was with another person too, and she would be a hypocrite to get angry at Daniel for moving on quickly when she made the decision to leave him in one night. “She’s a mutual friend, who is the daughter of an earl. They think you’re a hockey player from Canada,” she giggled out slightly, knowing Jacob would get a kick out of it.
Jacob did laugh. Honestly, he’d been in the United States and Canada for so long now, it wasn’t the biggest deal to him when people made the mistake. “Did they say anything else about me? How handsome I am, maybe?”
“No. But they should.”
He kissed her quickly, but let his lips linger near hers for a while as he moved her body so she was even more cuddled into him. He kissed her again, longer this time, before pulling away. “They can say whatever they want about me. I don’t even know who they are.”
Geneviève smiled.
***
Geneviève had abandoned text messages and had switched to phone calls to try to get in touch with Henrietta Guernsey. Factoring in the time difference, she’d call at opportune times where it wouldn’t be a hassle to pick up the phone, except that Geneviève was so unsuccessful she thought Henrietta must have changed her number. When Henrietta finally did pick up the phone one day, there were no pleasantries. No hellos, no ‘darling, how are you’s, nothing. Only, a quick and stern, “I am asking you politely to stop calling me.”
Geneviève was taken aback by the greeting. “Why haven’t you been answering? I just need your brother’s contact information. Is it that top secret that I can’t have it?”
“Why? Are you going to leave this new ice hockey player to fuck my brother, only to leave him too?” Henrietta spat at her. Geneviève’s heart fell into the pit of her stomach. “You have a lot of nerve speaking to me after what you did to Daniel. Leaving him for an ice hockey player, Geneviève?”
Geneviève stiffened at her words. Her defensive mode was engaged, as it usually was concerning Jacob, ever since he’d met her parents. “What’s this about? That has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me. You befriended me, you came into my family home, you acted all serene and polite and then you fuck another man while being engaged!”
“How dare you speak to me that way,” Geneviève fought back. “I never did such a thing and you know it. I broke up with Daniel before anything happened.”
“You’re behaving like a whore and everybody is going to know it soon. You deserve everything that is going to come to you – I want you to know that. Everything, because you’re a filthy slut. I never want to speak to you again,” Henrietta snapped, ending the phone call.
***
ICE COLD: More details of the split between Geneviève Monette and Daniel Bamford have come to light in recent weeks. Tatler has learned that Geneviève was the one who called off the engagement – quite literally by a phone call – the day of Augusta Bamford’s graduation from the University of St. Andrews. With little explanation or remorse, Monette moved her things out of their home within the month before moving back to Canada to be with the man who came between her and Bamford. Tatler can exclusively reveal the man in question is Jacob Markstrom, a Swedish goaltender employed by the Vancouver Canucks ice hockey club. Monette is said to have met Markstrom somehow in Oxford, though it is unsure how they could have interacted. Monette, of course, moves in exceptionally smart and stylish circles (having been in line to become a countess, after all), whereas Markstrom is a far, far cry from it and is nothing of the sort. What could have motivated Monette to leave a titled future amongst the aristocracy for a life in Canada watching black rubber pucks being shot at her partner?
***
Jacob was suspicious. Geneviève had been crying a lot lately, and seemed less inspired. Despite being on the road with the team, and occupied with hockey a lot of the time, he noticed the change in her almost immediately. You always do when it concerns someone you love, he thought, and he loved Geneviève more than anything.
Before he approached her about it, he wanted to see if he could get to the bottom of it himself. She’d been writing a lot lately, so one night he looked through her notes and sheets of scribbled writings on her desk. He looked through all the open magazines to pages where they were mentioned – always bookended by “former girlfriend of Daniel Bamford”, which he knew she hated because he knew she never wanted her name associated with any man that led to hers being diminished. He saw all the open tabs on her computer – British news sites, blogs, journals, and magazines that shred her to pieces for her decision. News sites, blogs, journals, and magazines that once featured her and bent over backwards simply to just have her photograph taken. News sites, blogs, journals, and magazines that spoke out his inferior status, alluded to him being lesser-than, called him simple, unsophisticated, unrefined.
When he cuddled into her in bed from behind, draping a strong arm across her body and pulling her towards him, he could hear her silent tears. She was trying to mask it, obviously, but there was no hiding it from him. “I don’t care what they say about me,” he whispered into her ear, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. “I only care about you.”
She flipped around so they were face to face, holding each other. “I care what they say about you,” she said, wiping her red eyes. “I can’t stand to read what they’re saying about you. They’re only doing it to get back at me.”
“I don’t care,” he reiterated, giving her a tender kiss. “I won. I have you for the rest of my life, so I don’t care. I won.”
***
There were more tears. More tears. Then isolation. Then a lack of writing. More isolation. More tears. Little writing. That was always the alarm call – the little writing. Geneviève loved to write more than anything, but there came a point where she was doing more crying than writing. More staring up at her ceiling with a blank expression than writing. More isolation than writing.
Jacob was worried.
Geneviève had felt abandoned before, when she was shipped off to boarding school so young. Because of that, despite having a family, she learned how to build her own family who surrounded her that could support her. There had been so many.
And now only Margaret was left.
***
TALK OF THE TOWN: Former friends of critically acclaimed humourist and writer Geneviève Monette have some interesting words to say about her split from Daniel Bamford.
“Can you believe what she did?” Davinia Mortimer says over cocktails one night. “Daniel was absolutely devastated. And it was done over a phone call. How could she?”
“We all knew she was a social climber, but this just doesn’t make sense,” Lady Henrietta Guernsey reveals. “To leave Daniel for a hockey player? Imagine being the woman who will always be known as the one who left one of the most eligible men in England.”
“A stupid, stupid girl,” Angus MacArthur shakes his head. “And I will say one thing – to say that some are relieved she’s gone is an understatement. Some are downright ecstatic. If she wants to behave in such a way, let her – she’s only ruining her own reputation amongst her former friends.”
***
“G? Sotnös?” Jacob called out after coming home from a prolonged road trip. The last time this happened, near the beginning of the season when he left for training camp for two and a half weeks, Geneviève had practically jumped on him before he even got through the doorway and they’d ended up fucking against the door, in the kitchen, on the couch, and in the hallway before finally making it to their room where they spent the rest of the day in bed.
This time, when he set down his bag, all her could hear were whimpering cries.
“G?” he asked gently, opening the door to their bedroom to find her sobbing at the edge of their bed.
“Leave me alone,” she cried out. “I don’t deserve to be with you when all I do is hurt you.”
***
It was on Genevie’s birthday that Jacob made a call to a psychiatrist recommended by the team doctor. He loved her more than anything, and only ever wanted what was best for her. Still, he found it hard to formulate the words when the doctor asked why he was calling in the first place and what exactly his concerns were.
“I think my girlfriend is having a mental breakdown.”
***
MAKING A MARK: Well, that was fast. Daniel Bamford and Lady Pandora Livingstone have revealed their engagement via an announcement in The Times, paired with a photo of the couple posing on the grounds of Hapden Hall, the Livingstone’s Family’s ancestral home. Bamford proposed with a family heirloom, a ring from his grandmother’s collection that has not been seen in public in more than fifty years. The ring was, notably, not given to Geneviève Monette upon proposal, which gives traction to the rumours that the Bamford family did not want it to be given to her. Monette seems to still be with Jacob Markstrom, a simple hockey player currently residing in Canada. Though her book of collected essays, “You Have No Self-Doubt” was critically acclaimed, Monette’s decision to leave Bamford has some still shaking their heads. There is no way Markstrom would be able to keep up with Monette’s intellect, leading some to refer to them as the Odd Couple. Geneviève was spotted at a Vancouver Canucks hockey game, where Markstrom is currently employed – though you wouldn’t be able to tell him or an arena custodian apart.
This fic will deal with mental health issues, including (manic) depression, thoughts of self-harm, thoughts of worthlessness, and issues regarding struggles to conceive.
A/N: We are back in the 'modern day' of the fic instead of the past for this chapter. Thanks to all for reading and reblogging with your tags, despite the difficult subject matter. And as always, thank you for your anons about the story! I'm so happy to be answering them along the way.
April 8th, 2019
Dr. Sorenson had worked out of Vancouver General Hospital for fifteen years, and had seen quite a few cases like Geneviève Monette-Markstrom’s. It was a terrible thing, to long for a child that hadn’t come yet, and feeling like you were exhausting your resources to have that child. As Dr. Sorenson looked over Geneviève’s file, she began to learn more about her history. It informed her as to how to move forward.
As she opened the door to her office, she saw whom she presumed to be Geneviève sitting in one of the chairs across from her desk, a very tall, very lanky man sitting beside her holding her hand in his lap. Judging by the file, it was Jacob Markstrom, her husband. She was always happy to see a spouse present, and this was no different. Dr. Sorenson hoped that it meant extra support to have Geneviève get better, and not a denial of the severity of the situation, as she’d seen in other cases.
“Mrs. Monette-Markstrom, Mr. Markstrom, hello,” she greeted pleasantly, shutting the door to her office before extending her hand. Both of them rose politely to greet her, shaking her hand. “Mr. Markstrom, I’m Dr. Hattie Sorenson, and I’ve been overlooking Geneviève’s stay with us here,” she informed him.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” his voice was calm. “Thank you for your help.”
Dr. Sorenson moved to sit at her desk, opening Geneviève’s file in front of her. She decided not to respond to Jacob’s comment because – well, it was her job to help. She didn’t want, nor need, to be thanked for doing her job. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Monette-Markstrom? Much better than three days ago, I hope.”
“You can just call me Geneviève,” she said first, nodding afterwards. “And yes, better than three days ago.”
“Do you still want to hurt yourself?”
“No.”
“Do you still want to hurt yourself because you cannot get pregnant?”
“No.”
“Do you still feel as if that could be a possibility in the future?”
“I don’t work on hypotheticals,” Geneviève responded, feeling Jacob squeeze her hand slightly. “I’m still extremely unhappy that I can’t seem to get pregnant with all the help in the world, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of that unhappiness until I’m pregnant.”
Dr. Sorenson nodded. “Do you still feel like you hurt Jacob when these mental health incidences happen and because you can’t get pregnant with his child?”
A pause from Geneviève – it almost held disdain for the question. “Of course,” she whispered.
“I don’t—” Jacob stuttered out, looking between his wife and Dr. Sorenson. “I don’t—she doesn’t hurt me. I mean, it hurts, but it’s not her fault. Does that make sense?”
Dr. Sorenson nodded again, smiling at Jacob while staying silent, before focusing her attention back on Geneviève. “I’m going to set you up for a psychiatric evaluation, and I’m also going to set you up with a fantastic psychotherapist in the meantime,” she began. “She’s one of the best I’ve known in my fifteen years of experience working out of Vancouver General. Her practice is right in Yaletown.”
“Is she available for video calls?” Jacob asked. “We—we usually go to Sweden in the summers to decompress after the hockey season is over.”
“There’s enough technology these days – I’m sure that can be worked out despite the time difference,” Dr. Sorenson smiled encouragingly. “Alternatively, you can always find a psychotherapist in Sweden. The only concern is, of course, for when you come back to Vancouver, since you spend most of your time here.”
“Right, right. Of course,” Jacob nodded.
“I’m also prescribing anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication,” Dr. Sorenson announced, directly at Geneviève more so than at Jacob. “Now…there are some studies that say anti-depressants affect a woman’s natural fertility, but other studies have shown they have very little to no effect on embryo counts or other factors related to IVF outcomes.”
“I hate how they make me feel,” Geneviève shook her head. “It never felt like they worked. Last time I was on them for maybe a month before I stopped. They did nothing for me.”
“Is it possible you stopped them too early before the effects could really take hold?” Dr. Sorenson posed the question. Geneviève stayed silent. “In the end, they’re for your benefit, Geneviève. It’s your choice whether or not to take them, but they do help. What helped you last time?” she asked.
Geneviève shrugged her shoulders. “I buried myself in my work and in my magazine. Work had to be done. I wrote a lot, published a lot. Focused on Atomic and finding diverse voices to publish.”
“So is it also possible that you never truly recovered, and just buried yourself in work?” Dr. Sorenson posed yet another question. Geneviève was slightly annoyed. “Perhaps you didn’t acknowledge the root of your—”
“I know why it happened last time,” Geneviève interrupted. “Every single one of my friends save for one abandoned me and participated in a smear campaign against me. It’s happening this time because I can’t get pregnant and start the family I want with Jacob. I don’t need antidepressants to tell me that.”
“No you don’t. But the anti-depressants can help your body regulate your levels so that if something like this were to happen again, you won’t want to hurt yourself,” Dr. Sorenson deadpanned. “It won’t lead to you calling your husband in the middle of the night and him walking you through checking yourself into a hospital while he’s in Florida terrified.”
Geneviève knew she was right but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
***
Geneviève hadn’t seen her home in three days. Jacob had cleaned up slightly since being back in the city – it was clear he swept, had wiped down the kitchen, tidied up their living space – so when Geneviève stepped back in, it was more tranquil and a little less disastrous than how she’d left it. It was a part of her life she loved: whatever space Jacob inhabited became serenely calm to her. In whatever space, in whatever country, wherever he was, she wanted to be.
Jacob was the ideal husband. He’d been the ideal boyfriend – the perfect fit for her, despite everyone around her thinking otherwise – and from the moment they got married, he was the best husband to her. He always encouraged her writing and the projects she was taking on. He didn’t find it demeaning when she wrote about feminism or politics; didn’t mind if she went on speaking tours or made appearances on shows, podcasts, or other media discussing topics just like she had the night they met. He knew she thrived in those types of environments, and he wasn’t going to dull her shine. Similarly, she was always supportive of his hockey career, bragging to anyone who would listen that he was a goalie for the Vancouver Canucks and the Swedish national team. She would always tell everyone – even people she hated because of what happened – how good he was to her, how good he’d always been to her, and how much he was her soulmate. Because he was: Jacob was her soulmate. A man from a town in Sweden who just so happened to walk in to the same pub that she was in the night of her graduation was more her soulmate than the aristocratically titled, embarrassingly rich, emotionally unaware man everyone envisioned her with from her past.
“You want some coffee, sötnos?” Jacob asked.
“Yes please,” she said, watching as Jacob headed to the kitchen. She watched in silence as he moved around, taking two mugs out of a cupboard and preparing the coffee he promised her. She took a seat on their island and noticed that he even watered the bouquet of flowers they usually kept, saving them from death.
And then she noticed the divorce papers.
They were still in the spot she left them, neatly beside the flowers. There was no way Jacob wouldn’t have seen them if he’d watered the flowers and wiped down the kitchen. She reached over to grab them, looking over all the paperwork she’d filled out. She even went so far as to sign everything she needed to sign so that, when he signed them himself (or at least she thought), all she had to do was file them. When she looked back up, Jacob was looking at her. “You had to have seen these,” she said.
“I saw,” he nodded once. “Saw that you even signed them.”
“Three nights ago I was convinced these would be signed by the time I got back here,” she revealed, placing them back down on the counter.
Jacob looked pained. “Tell me the truth,” he began. “Do you want to divorce me?”
“No,” Geneviève answered instantly. “I love you more than anything. Like I said on the phone, I just wanted you to be free from me.”
Jacob shook his head, reaching over and grabbing them in his hands. He made sure he was looking Geneviève in the eye as he tore them up, halved and then halved and then halved again, before opening the garbage and chucking it into the recycling bin. “Never.”
Geneviève felt tears forming in her eyes as she saw Jacob rip up the divorce papers. “I’m so sorry, Jacob,” she mumbled out, the tears finally spilling out. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
Jacob made his way around the island quickly, bending down slightly so he could be at eye level with her as he cupped her face in his hands. “Listen to me,” he whispered urgently. “We’re going to get through this together, okay? Just like last time. Because I love you more than anything too, and I’m your husband, and I’m here for you, alright?”
Geneviève was nodding and crying, nodding and crying, but when Jacob leaned in and kissed her, she felt a serene peace take over her body. “I’m going to get better,” she mumbled against his lips.
“I know you will.”
“I’ll even start praying again if it means I get pregnant—”
“Shhhh…” Jacob kissed her again. “Don’t put pressure on yourself. It will happen when it will happen. You need to focus on getting better. And in a few weeks when we leave for Sweden – G, that’ll be so good for you. You love Sweden.”
“You’re right, I do,” she brought her hands up to caress his face.
Jacob hesitated, knowing Geneviève wouldn’t like what he had to say next – but he knew it needed to be said, that he needed to get the idea out there. She loved her work, but he knew that if this was really going to work, what he was going to suggest needed to happen. “G, you should let Margaret take over Atomic this summer so you can focus on getting better.”
Geneviève looked taken aback – actually taken aback at the suggestion. “Jacob, that can’t happen.”
“But G—”
“—I can’t just abandon my magazine, Jacob. I built it from the ground up—”
“—G, Margaret can take over for a few months, she’s more than capable—”
“—But Jacob—”
“If you’re serious about getting better, you know it has to be done,” he said. “It’s like Dr. Sorenson said. You buried yourself in your work last time and you never truly recovered. You just paid attention to somewhere else.”
Geneviève was silent. Again, she knew he was right, but she didn’t want to admit it, and she didn’t want to give up the power at Atomic, even if it was only for a few months to the only other person she trusted as much as she trusted Jacob – the one person from her past who did not betray her – her best friend, Margaret. But Atomic was her making, her doing. She had truly built it from the ground up, after the amazing success of her first published book of essays You Have No Self-Doubt. It was even the mantra of the magazine – the message she wanted to get across for women in everything the magazine published.
“I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you,” she finally said. She knew she had to do it.
“Don’t do it for me,” Jacob said. “Do it for you.”
summary: rafe goes out with you in hopes of sweeping you off your feet, only to end up doing just that, and getting more than he bargained for.
warnings: single mom!reader, implications of teenage pregnancy, mentions of food, probably inaccurate baby milestones lol. gif credits to @poguemackin
word count: 1416
“-and he needs to be at bed by seven… oh! and you need to read him some-“
“y/n!” kiara, who, along with the pogues, offered to take care of your baby boy, cut you off. “don’t worry about it, okay? i’ve got everything under control. just enjoy your night and have some fun — it’s been at least a while since you’ve had some.”
“even if it means spending a night with rafe cameron.” pope chimed in, looking up from the picture frames displayed on the mantelpiece.
you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, it’s just- i haven’t been on a date since the last guy, and you know what happened, it was horrible, and that also means i’ve never spent an hour away from tommy ever since so...”
“it’s okay, he’s in the right hands,” she smiled as she turned her attention to the one year old propped on her hip. “isn’t that right, tommy? you like spending some time with auntie kie, don’t you?”
“hey, we’re here, too.” john b frowned, hooking his arm around jj’s shoulders.
tommy babbled, a huge smile on his face as kiara tickled his tummy.
kie shot you a pointed look as if to prove her point, and you hesitantly gave in. “okay…”
she cheered, laughing as tommy joined in, even though he didn't understand why they were happy.
the sound of your doorbell caught your attention, kie gave you a reassuring smile as you took in a deep breath.
“be good for auntie kie, okay, baby?” you smiled softly, kissing his temple. he bobbed his head up and down and waved.
“and jj, no weed.” you shot him a stern glare.
he raised his hands in defense as the pogues laughed. “aye aye, mama bear.”
you gave them one last look before going out the door. rafe was leaning against his car, fiddling with his rings as he waited for you to come out.
“hey,” you greeted, your smile growing as he looked up at you, a soft expression on his face.
“hey, you ready?” he asked, opening the car door for you.
“as i’ll ever be.”
“i’m really glad that you agreed to go on a date with me.” rafe smiled, tilting his head down to avoid you from seeing his bright cheeks.
you hummed, and he confusedly looked back at you. you have been checking on your phone every other minute ever since you’ve arrived at the bistro.
“okay, look,” he interrupted, finally catching your attention. “if you’re not enjoying this date, you could at least tell me instead of acting like you’re waiting for this to be over.”
your face fell as he dismally played with his food. you tucked your phone back into your pocket, if kie and the boys needed anything, they’d call.
“hey, no- i am, okay?” you reassured him, “it’s just been a while since i’ve been on a date, and i’m just… not sure how to act anymore.”
rafe nodded understandingly, immediately changing the topic. “where’ve you been, by the way? i think last week’s the first time i saw you again.”
you glanced at the woman with a stroller who passed by as you answered him. “oh, you know, just around.”
rafe cleared his throat as the awkwardness continued to consume the both of you. he poked his food around with his fork until an idea popped into his head.
“ever heard of twenty-one questions ‘til we fall in love with each other?” he asked, a hint of a sly grin on his lips.
“you’re ridiculous,” you laughed. “i’m in.”
you spent the rest of the night exchanging silly questions that lead to bursting out of laughter. a few different waiters have already approached you and threatened to kick you out for being too boisterous.
“you did not!” you snorted, which made rafe laugh even louder.
“i did! topper’s mom thought he was doing the deed while talking to her, his phone was on speaker, and kelce and i were laughing our asses off as his mom lectured him,” rafe replied, wiping the stray tear off his eye.
“sir, i’m going to politely ask you both to leave.” the manager spoke, successfully making your laughters die down. “the customers have been complaining about the two of you all night.”
rafe drove you home moments later, continuing your conversation without anyone having the need to interrupt the both of you. he rolled the windows down and set the volume louder as his, and coincidentally, your favorite song played on the radio.
dining at one of the best restaurants, getting kicked out of the said restaurants, having conversations worth cherishing, and screaming along with the lyrics of your favorite song, you could gladly say that this easily became a night to remember.
the smile on your face was practically impossible to wipe off as you risked a glance towards rafe. you couldn’t remember the last time you had fun, but you were glad that you went on this date because you’re having an amazing night with the most unexpected person.
“by the way, we finished twenty-one questions,” he prompted, a sly grin growing on his lips as he walked you towards your front porch. “did you manage to fall in love with me?”
you let out a thoughtful hum as you tapped your chin in mock contemplation. “i don’t know, did you?”
“kinda hard not to.” he shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets.
you gasped dramatically and playfully hit him on his chest. “rafe cameron! it’s only our first date.”
“only? you still want to go on another date with me?” rafe asked, his brows raised up in surprise.
“i mean, yeah. i really enjoyed tonight.” you smiled, balancing yourself on the heels of your shoes.
“well, you better prepare yourself for the next one then, missy.” he grinned, planting a kiss on your temple. “good night, y/n.”
“yeah, good night.” you faltered for a bit, walking towards your porch as he walked back to his car.
you lingered for a moment before turning around. “actually, rafe… before we end this night, i need to ask you something important.”
he shrugged and jutted his bottom lip out. “shoot.”
“how… how do you feel about kids?” you hesitated, swallowing the lump on your throat.
rafe felt his face turn pale, clearly taken aback at your sudden question. though he immediately composed himself and cleared his throat. “what- what age are we talking about?”
“a year old.” you fiddled with the necklace around your necklace, tommy’s initial as the pendant.
“uhh, they’re cute, i guess,” he shrugged. “they’re fine, why?”
you puffed out a breath, preparing yourself for yet another sudden uninterested guy. “because i’m a-”
but before you could even finish your sentence, the front door opened and the soft pitter-patter of footsteps hit the ground. “mama!”
“mom.” you finished, crouching down to catch your little toddler as he waddled his way towards you. kiara was leaning against the door frame, shooting a scrutinizing glare at rafe as the three boys stared from the window.
“hi, baby,” you whispered, smiling as tommy planted wet kisses on your cheeks.
you stood up, this time with tommy on your hip. “yeah…”
you looked at his pale face and wide eyes, you sent him a tight-lipped smile as tommy bashfully hid his face in the crook of your neck as he noticed rafe’s presence, whispering a few gurgles.
but of course, being a toddler, his whisper was a babble that was loud enough for rafe to hear.
you smiled softly at your child before turning your attention back to rafe. “look, i totally understand if you don’t want to go on another date, i understand- i do.”
as much as it hurt you to say that, you had to. you couldn’t force a man to be part of a kid’s life. rafe, who apparently still wasn’t out of his shock, just blinked at you.
“right…” you awkwardly smiled. “i had a great night, rafe, i really did- first in a while, actually, so thank you.”
rafe’s eyes followed you as you turned around to walk away. the one year old shot him a small wave that was paired with a cute smile. he snapped out of his trance.
“wait!” he called out, jogging towards the both of you.
“i- uh- y/n, i really, really like you, and i just- i can make it work.”
general taglist: @tatesimper @bluvclouds @i-love-scott-mccall @miraclesoflove @rosie-posie08
summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.
pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader
gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+
ch. warnings: parenting, confrontations, pretty light dw!
genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, smut, kid-fic, exes to lovers
length: series; 6k
masterlist:the barn, series taglist
track: pretty much listened to the playlist when writing this
note: chapter one is here! thank you so much for everyone who supported and waited for this series to start. your comments are everything to me you guys are wonderful. ilysm and happy reading! (gifs used in this series are all made by yours truly)
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.
Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒
gif credit @czarniks
CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. Please be warned.
Word Count: 2,899
A/N: Was I really going to name the epilogue any thing else?
* * * * *
Effie had been quiet lately. When Matthew said ‘quiet’, what he really meant to say was not all there, and when he said ‘not all there’ what he really meant to say was that she was there, with him physically, but her mind was somewhere else. She had these bouts from time to time. Effie was always going to be a work in progress, and that meant sometimes she’d regress instead. He knew that when he signed up to be with her ten years ago now. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together seven years ago, and she said no. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together six years ago and she said no. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together five years ago and she said no. He knew that when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together four years ago and she said no. He knew thar when he raised the idea of buying and building a house together three years ago and she said yes. He knew that when they moved in to said house two years ago. Some bouts were long, some were short, but he always noticed them.
warning(s): cursing, slight mentions of sex, but other than that, nothing.
word count: 5,868
authors note: welcome to my new series :) i have no idea how long this is going to last, but i’m pretty excited for it. so, first things first, considering what i have planned for the character of jeremy, i didn’t want to use a real rangers player. so jeremy is a fictional dude on the team. i think that’s it for now, i’m not really sure what else i can think of about this series. so, oh well, enjoy :)
my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests
CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. Please be warned.
Word Count: 10,120
A/N: As always, I cannot thank you guys enough for taking so well to this story despite it’s…less-than-conventional storyline. I’m so happy you came along with me through Effie and Matthew’s journey. Though this is the final part, you have an epilogue to look forward too, to be posted on July 12. Thank you for all your asks, reblogs, comments, screaming in the tags, tagging me in “Best of…” lists…I love you all.
* * * * *
Matthew was always getting Effie little gifts. He became almost obsessive about it after he got her the gold necklace with the ‘e’ pendant for Christmas. They were never expensive, but they were always just little things, trinkets, gifts from his travels for games. A specialty candle that was supposed to smell like maple syrup over hot pancakes. A coffee mug in the shape of a bagel from Montreal. A beautiful leather bound and embossed notebook with a gold-foiled ‘E’ on the cover, which she almost didn’t want to use at first because it was so beautiful on its own, it could have been its on piece of décor in her apartment. But she did end up using it, as a journal; a place to write down her feelings and experiences. This time, instead of Bible verses, the numbers were much different.
Someone from your past is standing on your doorstep. The last remaining link to Philly and all the hurt you’d found there. Do you give into the past and all its familiarity despite the hurt, or do you let yourself fall in love with your present and build that beautiful future?
pairing: travis konecny x reader tyler seguin x reader
word count: 14k
warnings: angst, cheating, alcohol, babies, pregnancy, sexually suggestive content (not quite smut tho), very brief mention of a deceased parent, nolan patrick and implied j*mie b*nn
authors: @fuckyeahmattytkachuk and @bricksatcaleswindow
a/n: and here she is, it’s come to an end as all good things must inevitably do. thank yall for joining us on this journey and for sticking by us even when we posted part 2.5 and some of yall were hella confused, even when real life hit us and it took us a month to finish this part up. we’ve loved all your guesses and ideas and we can’t believe it’s time to finally say goodbye to this universe and these characters (or are we…… stay tuned, here at shelbsatans we always have something up our sleeves). now, without further ado, the flyer at your front door….
Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒫𝓇𝓊𝒹𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒
CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. Please be warned.
Word Count: 15,839
A/N: So this is technically the penultimate chapter of Patience is a Virtue, as part six of the series (and there are seven virtues). I do hope you enjoy all of the GROWTH that happens in this chapter, not just for Effie. I also hope you enjoy how Effie finds her voice more by the end.
And listen. I know the scene with Doughty doesn’t happen in real life. I know. But ~fiction~, okay?
* * * * *
If Effie liked Matthew’s kisses at the beginning, and grew to love them the more she had, she didn’t know what the word was for how she felt about them now. Because as often as they happened before – on his couch, on her couch, in his bed, in her bed, in her kitchen, in his kitchen, in Starbucks, in Ikea, in the grocery store, in the parking garage at the Saddledome – they happened even more often now. However, now, there was more happening afterwards.
After New Year’s in Banff, the gang cleaned the house so it was spotless before driving back to Calgary. Matthew held Effie’s hand the entire way home. They went to her place first, where they started kissing, and touching, and where Effie guided him into her bedroom and they had sex again on her bed.
The following night, Effie went to the Flames game, and they won. When Matthew saw her waiting for him in the waiting room, he took her hand and drove her back to his place, where they started kissing, and touching, and where Effie guided him into his own bedroom and they had sex again on his bed.
a/n: did y’all really think i’d let his birthday pass without posting a fic? nah. happy birthday to the loml mr mathew barzal. congrats on an amazing game. ROUND 2 BABEY!! anyways. this is like so fluffy. I simply cannot write angst even tho my heart tells me to. happy birthday baby barz <3
word count: 2.4k
warnings: fluff x 2000, heavy mentions of pregnancy/motherhood, brief mention of abortion, food mention, swearing
May 26th.
It was one of Mat’s favorite days of the year. Most people hate their birthday, because they cry, or they don’t like the attention. But not him. His birthday was always special. He felt comfort, being surrounded by his family and friends, all there to celebrate him. When he moved to New York, his first birthday without his family was hard. Knowing the feeling, some of the older guys thought it would be fun to round the team and their partners up for a nice brunch at a cafe downtown. That birthday became one of Mat’s favorite memories. Even more so, when he collided chest to chest with the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on. Yeah, May 26th was his favorite day.
May 26th, 2020 was quite possibly his favorite birthday in the history of birthdays he’s celebrated. (Only 23 there. Calm down Mathew). Quarantine birthdays aren’t ideal, but quarantine birthdays in the hospital became something he would cherish for the rest of his life.
Daisy Jane Barzal entered the world around 6 am, giving Mat the best birthday present he could ever ask for. Would some people be upset to share a birthday with their kid? Maybe. But not Mat. To him, sharing a birthday with the tiniest human, eyes just like his and a nose just like her mothers, was simply the greatest honor in the world. And so, Mat sat in a tiny hospital chair, tears dried on his face, holding his baby daughter, the best birthday present ever. He looked up from her sweet face to admire (Y/N)’s. She was sleeping, exhausted from the almost 5 hour process of bringing Daisy into the world. But she was so beautiful, Mat thought. From the moment he saw her wide eyes filled with guilt the first day they met, he knew she was going to be someone special to him. With the love of his life in the bed next to him, and the other love of his life in his arms, he knew for a fact that May 26th was his favorite day.
May 26, 2021
Today was a good day. Mat started his day by being woken up to soft kisses on his neck and his fiancée’s fingers brushing his hair off his forehead.
Fiancée.
Is anyone surprised? No. Mat and (Y/N) had a thing for making a big deal out of birthdays. So, on (Y/N)’s birthday a few months after Daisy was born, Mat popped the big question by dressing her in a custom onsie that read “Mommy, Will You Marry Daddy?” Let’s just say the day was filled with lots of smiles and tears.
After waking up, Mat went to wake up Daisy. Upon entering her room, the brown-haired baby, was already up in her crib, a 3 toothed smile on her face. “Good morning, Ma douce marguerite.” My sweet Daisy. “Do you know what today is, love bug? it’s our birthday! You’re one! Oh, I can’t believe it!” As he spoke, he lifted her out of her crib, to which she answered with a happy squeal. He spun her softly, pressing kisses to her chubby cheeks to which she only giggled at. While he bounced her, he felt a pair of arms snake around his waist. At the sight of her mother, Daisy’s smile grew wider, and she began to babble.
“Happy birthday, my sweet girl. Can you stop growing please?” (Y/N) groaned, not believing she’s had her baby earth side for a whole year.
With Daisy on his hip and his hand intertwined with (Y/N)’s, Mat couldn’t help but smile. How lucky was he, that he got to spend his birthday with the most amazing woman in the world, and share it with an even more precious little girl? He must’ve done something good in a past life.
(Y/N) couldn’t keep herself from smiling. Walking into the arena, all Daisy had been doing was babble. Mindless babble for a one year old, throwing around a few “Dada” and “Bir-day” (her attempt at saying birthday). Mat had left much earlier in the day for the rink, after he chose to skip the morning skate to spend the morning with his girls, where a messy breakfast was eaten and lots of pictures were taken. They had a party planned for later in the week, where both sets of parents could finally join them for the first time since Daisy was born.
“I know, baby. Such wise words, Dais.” (Y/N) said, playing along with Daisy’s baby talk. The pair were decked out in custom jackets, matching with the rest of the WAGS and babies. (Y/N)’s read “Barzal” on the back, while Daisy’s read Daddy. Stopping along the way for a few familiar faces to ogle at her daughter, (Y/N) finally made her way up to the box she normally shared with Lauren, Grace, And Sydney.
“There’s the birthday girl!” Sydney cried upon seeing them enter. She approached the girls, Squeezing Daisy’s cheeks and hugging (Y/N).
“Hi, Syd.” (Y/N) giggled, placing her daughter in the play pen, where she sat next to Eberle’s baby, Marty’s baby, and Ander’s baby. Laughing at how all the babies seemed to break into a conversation only they could understand, even with their giant headphones on, the mother’s laughed. All sets of parents had deemed the babies the “troublemaker quartet”, as they feared for the friendship the four girls would form in the future (all in good fun).
“You ready for this game?” Sydney asked, both girls aware of their partner’s attitudes depending on the game's outcome.
“As ready as I can be. All I know is that no matter what happens, Mat is going to finish media as fast as he can so he can see her again. Not me, of course. Today is their day and if he could have her strapped to the ice with him he would.” (Y/N) said with a laugh, her heart swelling at the thought of her loves.
“She’s a daddy’s girl, huh?” Sydney questioned.
“More like he’s a Daisy’s man. He’s wrapped around that little finger of hers. I’m not complaining, though. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I ask myself how I got so lucky, sometimes.” (Y/N) said, thinking back to when they first found out she was pregnant.
She was devastated. She felt so guilty. Was he going to leave her? Was she going to keep it? They were so young. Both just having turned 22, they hadn’t even been together 3 years. Mat wasn’t due back to the apartment for a few hours, so she hid the rest the best she could and did the only thing she knew how to cope doing. Cry. Mat came home early, and the sounds of an empty apartment were unusual. His fears grew worse as he heard the sounds of his girlfriends sobbing in their bedroom. “Honey? Are you ok? What’s the matter?” He said, rushing to her side of the bed, on his knees and his hands wiping her tears.
Y/N began to sit up, head down, unable to make eye contact with her boyfriend.
“I’m sorry, Maty.” She said, choking down a sob.
“You can’t apologize if I don’t know what’s wrong.” He said, hazel eyes bouncing around her features, and his brows furrowed in worry.
“I’m pregnant, Mat. I found out this morning. We’re so young and this is gonna fuck up your career, Fuck, I’m so sorry, we can-“ she rambled, before he cut her off.
“Hey. It’s ok, honey. You’re serious? You’re actually pregnant?” Mat said, his smile growing wider. (Y/N) didn’t notice it until she looked up, feeling a wave of ease wash over her.
“Yeah. I took the test this morning after I realized I was late.” she said, playing with his fingers and looking into her lap again. Instead of responding, Mat pulled her up from the bed, and wrapped her into a huge hug, pressing kisses to her hair, before landing on her lips. The kiss was full of love, and (Y/N) got a response she was relieved to receive. Breaking the kiss, Mat dropped to his knees and lifted up her (his) shirt, and kissed her stomach.
“Hi baby, it’s me, your dad. You had your momma a little upset before, but I'm very excited. We both love you so much.” He whispered, loud enough for (Y/N) to hear.
Yeah. They were gonna be ok. Even if they were doing things a little out of order, (Y/N) knew that he was the one she’d spend forever with. She couldn’t wait to watch their little family grow.
Mat swore he had lightning running through his veins. His adrenaline was on maximum overdrive. The game was insane. He loved his teammates more than words could say, and they did everything in their power to make sure his birthday game was nothing short of exceptional. After locker room hugs and celebrations, Mat managed to escape too many media stops. The friends and family started to filter into the tunnels, (Y/N) holding a somehow not tired Daisy in her arms. Usually at this time she’d be fast asleep, but the atmosphere of the game and the promise of seeing her daddy kept her awake.
Mat saw his fiancée holding their daughter, her head thrown back in laughter at something Sorokin said to Daisy. He couldn’t help but stop and watch. She looked so perfect inthat moment. If you had to ask him though, she looked perfect all the time. Even when she disagreed, baby spit up covering her shirt and greasy haired. Missing his girls too much, he walked towards them. Daisy locked eyes with her Dad, and began to squirm in her mom’s arms. Seeing Mathew, (Y/N) let her down. Mat squatted, arms open wide. Daisy began to toddle over to her father as fast as she could without falling over. She had begun to walk about a month ago, and hadn’t stopped moving since.
“There’s my girl! Did you enjoy the game, ma douce marguerite?” He asked, scooping her into his arms and walking towards (Y/N). “Ok dada. Puck.” she replied. (Y/N) shook her head. Of course one of the few words she could fully speak had something to do with hockey. With Mat as her dad, she expected nothing less.
“Happy birthday, baby. I’m so proud of you.” (Y/N) praised, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Disappointed she missed, Mat used his free hand to push her chin up and captured her lips in a few short kisses.
“Thank you, my honey. How was she?” he asked.
“She was great. Hung around with Winnie Martin and Gary’s baby most of the time. Saw you on the jumbotron and lost her mind.” Mat threw his head back in laughter. (Y/N) would never get sick of that sound.
“What a firecracker you are, huh Dais.” he said, still laughing.
“Oh, Lord, you don’t even know the half of it. Come on, let’s get home. It’s way past her bedtime, and mine for that matter.” (Y/N) stated, grabbing her lover's hand. “Besides, I have one more surprise for you, love.”
A happy feeling grew in the pit of Mat’s stomach. What could be better than this?
After arriving home, the doting parents put Daisy down to bed. Thankfully, she was tired and a heavy sleeper. They got ready for bed beside each other, and (Y/N) made Mat sit on the bed while she went to the closet to grab his last present. She had gifted him a new golf club he’d been asking for, and a framed picture of them all from a few months back.
“Ok, I promise this will be better than last time. Close your eyes, ok?” (Y/N) said, her heart beating out of her chest.
Mat laughed his sweet laugh before closing his eyes and resting back on his hands. He felt a small, rectangular box placed in his lap. When he opened his eyes, (Y/N) was staring down at him with a huge smile on her face. Shaking his head with a smile, he pulled the ribbon apart, and opened the box slowly. When he saw what was inside, he felt a hot wave of happiness wash over him, and tears began to form in his eyes. “Are you serious?” he whispered.
“Yeah. I am. I took it last week. I knew I had to wait until today to tell you.” (Y/N) replied softly, her own eyes watery.
“Another baby. Fuck, I love you so much, c’mere lovey.” he said, placing the box beside him. (Y/N) crawled into his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck and toying with the curls at the base of his neck. Mat’s hands found their way to her stomach, where he began to rub small circles along her skin, bumping over her stretch marks that he loved so dearly.
“I guess we’re gonna have to push the wedding back, huh?” he said after a few moments. (Y/N) laughed.
“I would hope so. I don’t really wanna be 9 months pregnant in a wedding dress babe.”
“We could just elope, too. Me, you, Dais, maybe Beau. And then celebrate with everyone later.” he suggested.
“Jesus, do you two really have to do everything together? We can think about it, Maty. As long as you still wanna marry me I don’t care how we do it.” (Y/N) said, joking with the first part. They made out for a few minutes, before Mat broke them apart.
“I love you so much. Thank you for giving me Daisy. And this one too. There’s no one on earth i’d rather have as the mother of my kids.” he said, pulling them both up to lay in bed.
“I love you too. You’re my person, Maty. And I love our little family.” (Y/N) replied. “I hope you had an amazing birthday, my sweet boy. I’m so happy you get to share it with Daisy.”
“I did, all because of you. Thank you my honey. Sweet dreams.” he said, pulling her closer. His hand found its way to her stomach again, and (Y/N) felt herself relax, her head tucked into his neck. Posting a quick photo on instagram, he put his phone on the charger and laid his head down. Their breathing fell into rhythm as they fell asleep.
Yeah. Mat loved his birthday. He loved his job, he loved his teammates, and he loved his fiancée, their daughter, and their unborn baby. May 26th was his favorite day.
summary: after housing ethan at the tkachuk household for two days, matt takes notice of just how miserable both ethan and caroline are and takes it upon himself to step in and intervene as peacemaker for them and their families as well…with only one condition. matt learns of his fate for the rest of the season.
word count: 14,606
an: hi, i’m finally updating!! thank you all for being so patient with me 🥺💛 also, i feel like i made sutter and treliving a lot more likable in this chapter than what they probs are but oh well. i’m also running out of good title ideas and summaries so don’t expect them to be great lol<3 okay, enjoy!
⇠ previous part • playlist • series masterlist • join the series taglist
