#tkachuk

[mediacircuspod]

If you see a us men’s hockey team kissing the feet of a fascist dictator. Do not try to save them. They are exactly where they want to be.

[nottodayjustin]

February Olympics best hockey tweets, part 1 - Tkachuk edition

[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Jersey

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x girlfriend!reader

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: sexual hints, lots of jokes lol, use of the word "pussy", no actual smut

Summary: You decided to wear Brady's jersey to a game to play a joke on Matthew, but little did you know, it would backfire on you.

You’ve been with Matthew for 2 years now and they’ve been the best 3 years of your life. He’s kind, gentle, and caring with you, unlike how he is on the ice. He’s been your better half, knowing you better than you know yourself.

You knew how well hockey ran in the Tkachuk clan so it wasn’t a surprise when Brady got drafted. Matthew was extremely excited to play Brady for the first time, you could tell by how much time he spent preparing in the off season. 

So when the first FLA vs OTT game was around, you didn’t expect to get an Ottawa jersey in the mail. You knew it was from Brady from the way his name and his number laid on the back. There was a note too, saying to wear it to the game. You hesitate but pick up the jersey, throwing the box away.

Hiding the jersey in your side of the closet, you wait for Matthew to come home from morning skate. The game was later in the night and Tkachuks’ flight was to land at 3, currently it was 2. The game was late, at 8 o clock. 

Matthew stumbles through the door twenty minutes later, stopping to admire you rewatching the Bruins game. “Hey love.”

You turn your head to face him, smiling. “Hey, how was it?”

“Good, I think we’re ready to kick Brady’s ass,” he smiles, walking towards you. “How was your day?”

“Barely even started yet, but going well since yours is going well,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “Go take a nap, I’ll pick up your family.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “I can get them before the game, it’s fine.”

“Matthew, I’ve known your family for 2 years, I think they won’t mind if I pick them up,” you assure. “Plus, I need time with Taryn.”

“Why? Do you guys gossip about me?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, she shows me your baby pictures,” you smirk. 

“What?” he turns to look at you.

“Of course I’ve seen the baby pictures. We’ve been together how long?” you walk to your closet, grabbing a coat to wear when you went to pick up the family. 

“God I hate this,” he rolls his eyes, getting into bed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile.

Finding Chantal at the airport was simple, Keith next to her, Taryn trailing behind. The second she saw you, she ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she squeals. 

“Taryn! You’re squeezing too hard!” you shout, causing 3 elderly to turn back to look at you. She lets go, still smiling. 

“Did you get Brady’s gift?” she whispers. 

“You knew?” you ask. 

“Only me, Brady couldn’t keep it a secret,” Taryn says as you all get into your car. You drive everyone back to your house, where Matthew has already left for the game. 

When you had finished getting ready for the game and walked out, you hear 2 gasps behind you. “Shouldn’t you be wearing Matthew’s?”

“Why? Brady’s the better brother,” you smirk.

“Matthew’s going to be pissed,” Keith gives you a little fist bump, a sign of approval. You laugh, walking out to head to the game. 

***

Sitting in the box next to Taryn and Emma, you look down at the ice as the boys emerge from the locker rooms. 

“There he is,” Emma nudges you, her eyes on Matthew. He has his helmet off as always, his curls a mess, his stretching position in progress. 

You watch him skate to the centre line, settling down next to Brady to stretch. You assume that they were chirping each other, then noticing Brady tap his mic. Matthew says something with a smirk, which led Brady to do the same. You watch Matthew furrow his eyebrows and then look towards the box, his eyes turning dark as he sees you in the Senators jersey. You just smile and wave at him, to which he responds with a roll of his eyes. 

Brady gets up, smiling at his older brother before sending a wink your way. 

“Dad was right, he’s pissed. I feel bad for you,” Taryn went onto her phone, pulling up a song. Just a second later, RIP that Pussy begins playing. Your eyes go wide, taking her phone from her. You repeatedly tap the pause button, furious with your result.

“Taryn!” You scold, grabbing onto her hand. You look back down at the ice, where Matthew had started talking to Sam. 

The Panthers took the win 4-2, Matthew scoring two of those goals. You walk down the tunnel to greet him, meeting Aaron along the way. 

“Hey Y/N, how are you?” he asks.

“Good, you?” You reply.

“Happy that we won,” He gives you a smile, turning to walk away. “Oh, by the way, he’s pissed about the jersey.”

“Been hearin’ that all night,” You smile back, standing in front of the locker room door. Matthew comes out a minute later, his hair slightly damp. “Hey Matty, you played great.”

“Hey Matty, you played great,” He mocks your voice. “You think you're funny, huh? Let’s see who’s talking when we get home.”

He grabs your hand, dragging you out of the arena. You smirk  to yourself, trailing behind him.  You get into the car, his hand immediately going to your thigh. 

“You have a lot of nerve, you know? Wearing that shit to my game. My home game. You’re lucky we won or I would’ve taken you right there against the wall,” his words make a shiver run down your spine. The thought of your boyfriend fucking you against a wall in a very public place scares you but turns you on at the same time.

“Brady sent it to me. I didn’t know about it,” you say innocently, blinking at him. 

“Oh, fucking hell, baby, don’t lie to me,” he shoots you a glance. You open your mouth to say something but stop once his phone chimes. “Check who that is. Please.”

There was a pause before he said please. But, hey! Matthew has manners!

You check his phone for him, the passcode being your birthday (#couple goals). Chantal had texted, asking if you and Matthew would meet her and the Tkachuk clan at a restaurant downtown. 

“Matty,” you say softly. 

“Hmm?” he hums, not taking his eyes off the road. 

“Your mom wants us to go to a restaurant to catch up,” you say. 

“Tell her you’re tired and don’t feel like going out,” he shoots a glance your way, smirking at you. “You will be.”

“She said that we still have to come, and if I want, I can sleep on your shoulder at the restaurant,” you look over at him, his tongue sliding against his teeth. 

“Fine, text her we’re on our way, but take off that fucking jersey,” he changes routes, heading to the restaurant they were at. 

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you carry off.

“Fucking hell, babe, now, you’re really in for it tonight,” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “There’s an extra shirt in my bag, put it on.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the bag in the backseat. The dress shirt was a simple black one, a bit oversized, but you weren’t complaining. You climb into the back, taking the jersey off, leaving you in just a bra. Matt’s eyes shift from the road to you for a second, a visible boner forming in his pants. 

Deciding to play his game, you slowly button your shirt up, leaving the top 2 unbuttoned. 

When you get to the restaurant, you knew you were in for it. Matthew pulls you towards him, trapping you between the car and him, buttoning the last two buttons on your shirt. “This,” he gestures to your tits. “Belongs to me. Not Brady. Only my jersey covers these.”

“Only yours,” you try to kiss him but he moves his head out of the way and your kiss went to his cheek. 

“Act fucking tired, I want to go home. You aren’t allowed to get away with this,” he puts an arm around your waist, walking with him to the restaurant. 

“You’re that mad?” you ask. 

“You’ll see how mad I really am,” he glances at you. 

You sit down at the table after saying hi to everyone, sitting across from Emma and Brady. “Hey Y/N! How are you?”

“Doing wonderful, Brady,” you smile, earning Matthew’s hand on your thigh, squeezing tightly as a warning. “I’m so tired though.” 

His hand eases up a bit. 

“How did you like the jersey? I know Matty loved it,” Brady smirks, Emma letting out a little chuckle.

Matthew takes his hand off your thigh and slips it around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. 

“I loved it, thank you,” you try to be as nice as possible.  

“How come you changed?” Brady asks. “You looked pretty great in the jersey.”

“Oh, I felt hot. I feel sick,” you lie. “You know how things are with the Florida weather.”

Brady chuckles, knowing entirely that you are lying. 

Matt gives you a pat on the thigh of approval, a signal to start falling asleep on him. As the waiter comes around, you tell Matthew to order for you as you begin to fall asleep on his shoulder.

“Um, Mom, Y/N’s not feeling too good, I think we’re going to head home,” Matthew tells his mother. 

“Nonsense, she looks fine. She’ll manage. If she can’t, I can call her an uber. One of you has to stay, Matthew. I haven’t seen you both since December,” Chantal responds, smiling. 

Damn her and her love for her kids. You’re trying to get laid.

Matthew silently groans, the vibrations hitting your body. His hand moves up and down your thigh and you were actually falling asleep at this point. Matthew ends up taking notice of it, pulling your chair closer. 

You assume it was about 10 minutes later when Matthew’s arm shifts a bit, waking you up. 

“Oh, sorry babe. I just had to grab a fork,” he smiles at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. 

“Should’ve woken me up when food got here, I’m starving,” you return the smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as you begin eating. You lower your voice as Brady begins talking to Taryn about her graduation. “When do you want to leave?” 

“Soon. Eat half of your food and call it a day. You aren’t getting out of this,” he whispers back.

“Why? Because you know your brother is better than you?” you chuckle softly as you took a bite of your food, almost choking on it as Matthew’s hand lands dangerously close to your clothed pussy. 

“Say that shit one more time and I’ll take you right on this table,” he says sternly. 

“You wouldn’t,” you giggle softly but stop as you notice the dark lust behind his blue eyes. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed,” he chuckles softly. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

“Hey lovebirds,” Keith whistles at you and Matthew, taking you out of your conversation. “Why don’t you stop whispering to each other and actually talk? You guys have all year to talk, we only get to see each other tonight until April.”

“Dad, don’t you get it? Matthew’s still pissed about the jersey,” Taryn remarks. You almost choke at her words, turning your head towards the 22-year-old. “What? You know I’m right!”

“Taryn, leave them and their sex life alone,” Brady jokes. 

“Brady!” his mother scolds. “There are children present!” 

“So?” he now earns a slap on his shoulder from his wife.

“Anyways, how’s work?” Chantal asks you. 

“Going great as of now,” You smile at her, poking a piece of salad on your plate with your fork, avoiding eye contact.

During the time you, Chantal and Emma were talking, Matthew had excused himself to the ‘bathroom’. In reality, he was texting you to make up some ridiculous excuse, so you could go home. 

You text him back saying you were having fun and that his family was interesting. He sends back, “Either you leave now or you won’t be going to work tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week.”

You take in a soft gulp and tell Brady and Emma you’d be leaving now. 

"Good luck,” Emma sends a wink your way, Brady chuckling at her. As you were walking away from the table, Chantal calls your name. 

“Please tell Matthew we at least want to see him tomorrow before we leave,” she smiles at you, giving you a thumbs up. 

“Will do,” you turn back around and leave, meeting Matthew by the car. He opens your door for you, watching you eagerly as you get in. He gets in on the driver's side and starts up the car as you begin speaking. “Your mom said she wants to see you tomorrow. Before they leave.”

“Mhm,” he hums. 

“And I think she knew,” you continue. 

“Mhm,” he hums again, not paying attention to anything you were saying. 

“I’m pregnant,” you roll your eyes as he hums again. 

“Wait, what?” he looks over at you. 

“Were you listening to anything I said?” you ask. 

“I only heard that you were pregnant,” he says, a shit eating grin starting to form on his face. 

“No, I’m not. And your mother wants to see you tomorrow before she leaves. Also, your family knew,” you look forward at the road, rolling your eyes at him. 

“The next time you roll your eyes, it better be out of pleasure,” he smirks at you, continuing to drive through Fort Lauderdale. You laugh, reaching for his free hand.

[haddonfieldwhore]

long time coming - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

summary: your best friend finally gets everything he’s ever dreamed of - time to celebrate

warnings: excessive drinking, language, insults as nicknames but in an affectionate way

authors note: this was a half baked idea and i don’t love how it turned out. also i know i said i probably wasn’t gonna write for him anymore. the playoff brainrot is simply too strong. i’m not not proud of myself for it.

word count: 2.2k and not a bit of it is edited

june 24 2024 - stanley cup final

if it weren’t for the combination of alcohol and adrenaline in your system, the pounding bass of the music blaring through the club probably would’ve hurt your ears. the ensuing headache would be a problem for tomorrow - tonight was for celebrating. you looked at the miniature plastic rat you had gripped in your hands, a souvenir you’d saved from the game, before you looked around the room.

your eyes scanned the neon lit crowd, and you separated from the other girls as your eyes landed on a familiar head of honey coloured curls.

you were bumped and hugged by the sweaty bodies of many of your friends as you walked across the miami nightclub, swiping a bottle of something expensive looking off the bar (it was on the leagues tab you hoped) on your way by until you stood in front of matthew.

“you fucking did it!” you yelled over the music, a drunken grin stretched over his face as he beamed up at you.

“we fucking did it!” he yelled back, his arms circling around your hips and pulling you into a hug, your body positioned between his legs as he sat on a chair - probably the first time he’d sat down all night. you and the rest of the panthers, as well as most of the wags and close friends, had been at the club for hours, celebrating the panthers winning the stanley cup.

he was sitting with a few of the guys, but he had tuned out their conversation the second he laid eyes on you walking over.

you and matthew had been best friends for most of your lives, and you had watched him move from calgary to florida, where he now thrived as one of the teams star players.

you’d barely seen matthew all night, letting him celebrate with his teammates while you enjoyed dancing and drinking with the other girls; you had become close with them through your affiliation with matthew and his teammate sam bennett, who you also knew from his time in calgary.

you were having almost as much fun as you imagined matthew was, finally watching him live out his dream after so many years.

“come dance with me,” you offered, pulling him by his hand with the one that wasn’t wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

“what did you find?” he asked. you held up the plastic rodent, touching it to the end of his nose as if it was kissing him.

“a rat-“

“no dumbass, that,” he laughed with a roll of his eyes, pointing to the alcohol.

“i have no idea - wanna try it?” you giggled, passing him the bottle. he removed the cap, taking a long swig from it before shrugging.

“didn’t think you were a vodka girl,” he teased, taking another sip, letting you know it couldn’t be that bad. you put the rat in the pocket of your jeans, tired of carrying it, and grabbed his arm again, your fingers wrapping around his bicep.

you pulled him away from his teammates, who didn’t seem to notice his departure, and into the mass of people dancing to the blaring music.

you danced together for a little while, slowly getting lost in the sea of people and further away from your friends.

“it’s supposed to rain tomorrow during the parade,” you said as you bounced side to side to the beat of whatever song was playing.

“it could fucking snow for all i care,” he laughed with a toothy smile. “nothing gonna stop the parade.”

“i’ll drink to that,” you agreed, and he lifted the bottle in his hand, tilting you chin up with his index finger and thumb. your eyes met his glossy ones as you let him pour the liquid into your mouth, before swallowing the liquid, the burning sensation almost unnoticeable at this point of the night.

you felt like you were floating, and before you could blink his lips were on yours. your feet moved backwards as he steered the two of you away from the crowd, and if you weren’t so wrapped up in the moment you would have been shocked that there was a remotely quiet corner of the club tonight. you were lucky he was keeping you stable with his hands on your hips or you surely would’ve tripped walking backwards this intoxicated - where he set the bottle down you weren’t sure and didn’t care.

your hands reached up and slid his hat off his head, placing it on your own before tangling your fingers in his curls, messing them up in the process.

you parted to catch your breath, the wave of dizziness in your head a reminder that you did in fact need oxygen. you blinked up at him, your face hot as you looked over his expression, perhaps for any sign of regret. he was freshly shaven, gone was the playoff beard that you secretly loved - although you hated how much older it made him look. without it he looked more like the boy you had grown up with; the boy dragged you too all his games and practices throughout highschool; who took you to prom when your date had dumped you at the last minute.

he smiled at you, adjusting his hat atop your head (like he wasn’t the one who had knocked it crooked).

“i’m so proud of you, matty,” you blurted, as if you didn’t tell him all the time.

he didn’t reply, but smiled and leaned down to kiss you again, and you pulled his body closer by the belt loops on his jeans. his fingertips dug into your hips, while your lips stumbled together drunkenly - the kiss was messy and rushed but it didn’t matter.

you broke apart at the sound of someone calling his name, and the realization that you were still in a public place full of people crashed over you like a tidal wave. oops.

“chucky, have you seen…. y/n,” carter asked, trailing of when he realized he had found you; and the situation he’d found you in.

before he could reply, matthew was dragged away by bennett and ekblad, a drink shoved in his hand before they pulled him back over to the party.

“what did you need?” you asked, suddenly feeling a lot less drunk as what had just happened sunk in.

“zoe was looking for you - she said girl emergency in the bathroom,” carter explained, scratching the back of his neck, a small smile on his face. “casey sent me to find you - they looked everywhere except the obvious place.”

with matthew.

“on it - thanks carter.” you walked off towards the ladies room before he could say anything more, pushing through the clusters of people on the dance floor until you found the rest of the girls.

“where have you been?” zoe asked as she grasped your hands in hers.

“guess,” nina laughed, pointing to the hat atop your head, a telling number 19 embroidered onto the side of it.

•

you groaned as the light streamed in through the curtains. you didn’t remember what time you’d gotten back home, in fact you didn’t remember much from last night.

well, there was a few things you couldn’t forget.

the florida panthers won the stanley cup.

and you’d sloppily made out with your best friend.

as you rolled over, trying to shield you eyes from the sunlight with your pillow, your phone began blaring the sound of your alarm.

your head pounded, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed - it was parade day.

fighting off the exhaustion that begged you to stay in bed, you got up and took a quick shower, which helped to wake you up only slightly.

coffee and advil would be carrying you through the day you decided; and the joy of celebrating with your friends would help a bit surely.

your phone went off again, this time with a call from matthew, his picture popping up on the screen.

“hey stanley cup champion,” you answered, a smile on your face.

“i’ll never get sick of hearing that,” he replied. “where are you right now?”

“at home, where are you?” you asked, assuming correctly that he had never gone home last night.

“i’m still out with the guys, i don’t think i could sleep even if i tried,” he laughed. “i just wanted to check in since you disappeared last night. i’ll see you at the parade?” he asked.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you promised, and you meant it.

“i’ll catch you later.”

he hung up, and you dropped your phone on the bed, the lockscreen displaying a photo of matthew holding the stanley cup - you must have changed it last night. you smiled to yourself, before looking for something to wear to the parade, your eyes landing on matthew’s hat on your dresser.

•

matthew had been right, despite the literal rain on the parade, it had been a blast celebrating with the team and the fans. by evening, the partying had caught up to you, and you were starting to feel the exhaustion creeping over you.

you were sitting at a restaurant for dinner and drinks with some of the team and friends when you leaned your head on matthew’s shoulder.

“tired?” he asked softly, the other conversations almost drowning it out, and you nodded.

“come on, i’ll take you home.”

“no it’s okay, stay and celebrate, i’ll get an uber.”

“i’m ready to call it a night too, come on.”

the two of you slid out of the booth, and matthew said goodbye to a few people before leaving some cash on the table to cover both of your bills.

“thank you,” you said, grabbing his hand and walking out to his car. the drinking had slowed down enough by this point that matthew was okay to drive, and you weren’t awake enough to notice that you had passed the turn to go to your house until you felt the car stop in matthew’s driveway.

“come on sleepyhead,” he shook you gently and you blinked, getting your bearings as you recognized the familiar sight of his home.

no stranger to spending the night at each others houses, you didn’t bat an eye as you followed him inside, following him upstairs towards his room to steal clothes to wear to bed; another common occurrence.

“are we gonna talk about it?” he asked suddenly, and you paused as you dug through his dresser, finding your favourite t-shirt of his.

“you winning the cup?” you replied, not sure what else there was to say about it; it was all anyone had talked about for the last 36 hours or so; nor that you were complaining.

“the other thing,” he rolled his eyes playfully, though you couldn’t see him with your back turned.

“what other thing?” you knew damn well what he was talking about, but honestly with how much you’d both had to drink, if he didn’t remember the kiss, you wouldn’t have been surprised. maybe secretly you didn’t want to talk about it, because you didn’t know how he felt about it.

“you don’t remember?” he asked, sounding slightly hurt, and you turned to face him. you hated when he sounded upset like that.

“i remember matty. i wasn’t sure if you did, and honestly i don’t really know what to say about it,” you looked down at your feet.

“i’m sorry if i-“

“matthew, you don’t have to apologize. that’s not what i meant - “ you assured him.

“so you don’t regret it?” he said hesitantly, as if asking for clarification.

“i don’t regret it, i just…” you sat down on the end of his bed as you tried to wrap your head around things. you loved matthew, but things had never been more than platonic between you. at least you thought they had. maybe he felt more than that. maybe you did too. “do you regret it?”

“not in a million years,” he smiled with a chuckle “this doesn’t have to change anything unless you want it to.”

you thought about it again - the way he looked at you, the way his hands felt roaming your body, the feeling of his lips on yours. the way carter hadn’t looked at all surprised when he found the two of you making out.

“do you… want it to change anything?”

“are you asking if i want to kiss you again?” he asked, stepping closer so he was standing in front of you.

“i guess i am, yeah,” you decided. you had never felt nervous around matthew before, and you took a deep breath, realizing that you didn’t need to feel nervous around him now either.

“do you want-“

“you can’t answer my question with a question!” you laughed, pushing his arm gently.

“you answered mine with a question first!” he pushed you back, and you fell backwards onto the bed softly, both of you laughing as he jumped onto the bed next to you.

“i don’t want things to be weird between us,” you have a half answer, turning your head to the side to meet his eyes.

“do you really think anything could make things weird between us?” he said, his eyebrows scrunching together sceptically, a playful tone in his voice.

“no,” you smiled. he would always be your best friend, nothing could change that.

“good,” he nodded, before closing the gap between you and kissing you softly, a stark contrast to the frenzied kisses of the night before.

you kissed him back, your hand cradling his jaw softly, before separating. you smiled as you admired just how beautiful he was, your fingers tracing across the freckles along his cheekbones.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words heavier this time, like there was a new layer to them.

“i love you too, mister stanley cup champion.”

❤️🐀✨🤍

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. while some aspects are based on real events, i have no affiliation with any of the people mentioned in this story

[ijustdontlikepeople]

NHL x Internet 4/?

[elvensassking]

Honestly if the Tkachuk brothers have a million haters I'm one of them and if they don't have any I'm no longer alive or however it goes

[kanaaiysoublood]

Matthew Tkachuk and his best friend !

[swedishgoaliemafia]

People saying that Tkachuk being one of the guys carrying Johnny’s jersey is disingenuous and he’s doing it for clout and Johnny would “hate everything he stands for” is like…just soooo much parasocialism. Feel how you want to feel about any hockey player, I’m not defending them, but unless they come out and announce their politics and their feelings about specific other players, don’t assume that you know them.

Pro athletes as a whole and hockey players especially have a long track record of bad politics and forgiving (and loving!) people who Tumblr would hate. And most of these guys grew up playing together on different teams and do have a lot of affection for each other. Don’t project your emotions on to a dead man or assume to be an expert on his friendships to fit your personal narratives about who you want to call his friend.