Hockey Imagines

Biting your lip nervously, you check your phone. It’s less than an hour away from your wedding, but it seems like nothing, absolutely nothing, goes as planned. Even though that’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life, you find yourself thinking how much easier is it going to be when all this is behind you and your soon-to-be-husband, Chris Kreider. You are still not in your wedding dress and the reason for it is simple: your little niece used it as a painting canvas. Thankfully, that happened yesterday, but the dress is still in the process of a professional cleaning. And your wedding is an hour away. Everyone knows one hour may be a lot, but not when it comes to a wedding. Especially when your florist delivered wrong bouquets, which don’t match your color scheme at all.
“Aly?” your mom knocks on the door of the bedroom, which you called your hide out for your entire childhood and until it was time to move out of the house for university.
“Yes, mom?”
“Y/BF/N called. She is stuck at the airport and doesn’t know if she will be able to make it to the wedding.”
“But she is my bridesmaid!”
“I know, honey. But does she even know how you had everything planned? I mean, she is in LA and you are in New York, hours away from her.”
“I didn’t study graphic design for nothing, mom. I made an animation and we have made numerous Skype calls. We even did a conference call for a wedding rehearsal yesterday.”
“Still, honey, that’s not the same.”
“Mom, I am nervous, nothing goes as planned and I really don’t need your nagging, okay?”
“When I got married, we didn’t have that…”
“Mom! I get it, now can you please stop with your ‘when I was your age’ stories? It’s not the time.”
You are usually not bitchy and you haven’t been bridezilla, but when things go south only hours before the big moment,
“Is Christopher here already? He should be getting ready…”
“How could I know that? You know we agreed not seeing each other before the ceremony. But he just texted me he is still at the team meeting.”
“You really couldn’t pick a normal guy who doesn’t play hockey or any other professional sport, right?”
“You like Chris…”
“Because he makes you happy. But if he is going to mess up with the wedding, he will have to find himself a new bride.”
“He will come. And don’t engage in my relationship with Chris. Hello?” you say the last part in your phone and as soon as you hear Chris’ voice, your face lights up.
“The meeting is ending? Great! How long do you… thirty minutes max.? Okay, see you soon. Love you.”
You turn to your mom with a slight smirk: “He is coming. As I said he would.”
“But the wedding is less than an hour away, I don’t think he will make it.”
“He doesn’t need much to get dressed.”
“What about Y/B/N?”
“If she is stuck on the other side of the country, there’s not much we can do. But I looked forward to get married with my best friend by my side…”

Despite all the complications and wracked nerves, the wedding is smooth and better than you imagined. Your dress came back as white as pearls and thankfully, the florist delivered new flowers (this time the right ones) on time and when you walk down the aisle, everything is set as you and Chris imagined. And when you see Chris waiting for you at the end of the aisle, you nearly have to pinch yourself. You weren’t the only one – you see it in his eyes he has no idea what hit him. When your dad gives you away, he takes your hand, his warm, strong fingers wrapping around your palm and whispers: “You are…gorgeous.”
“So are you, Chris,” you smile at him, wishing more than ever to kiss him. But you will have to wait a bit longer for that to happen.
“May we begin?”
“Yes, we can. I can’t wait to call this beautiful and intelligent woman my wife.”
“We gather here to unite these two people in marriage. Their decision
to marry has not been entered into lightly and today they publicly
declare their private devotion to each other,” the priest starts and his words send chills down your spine – you have dreamt of getting married since you were only a little girl and today, your dreams are becoming a reality.

“Phew, that was exhausting,” you exhale deeply while changing into clothes you planned to wear on a flight to Bora Bora where Chris and you decided to spend your honeymoon. Bathroom door open and reveal your husband, his expensive black tie untied and his crystal white shirt slightly unbuttoned.
“I thought it was fun.”
“Well, you were at the practice and I was here, dealing with florist’s incapacity to deliver the right flower arrangements. And my mom didn’t believe you would show up…”
He chuckles and unbuttons one more button: “If I didn’t show up at my own wedding, I wouldn’t deserve to be married to such a wonderful woman. Wonderful, but very perfectionistic.”
You step closer to him and kiss his freshly shaven chin: “I am not perfectionistic.”
“No, you are just really focused on details.”
“Someone has to be,” you chuckle and move your lips from his chin to his lips. He kisses you back softly, his lips lingering on yours as he mumbles: “I must be the luckiest guy in the world.”
“I believe you really are. I don’t know any other girl who would deal with all your hockey crap all the time.”
“But you like it, right?”
“No, I love it. It makes our lives more interesting. Beside,” you wink mischievously “hockey players can score from any position.”
His grin grows wide: “Someone already in a honeymoon mode?”
“Calm down, tiger, wait until we get to our room.”
“But baaaaabe, it’s a long way to Bora Bora and you have been driving me insane during the ceremony,” his fingers try to sneakily creep under your short summer dress, but you smack them away: “Chris…”
“Oh, come on, Mrs Kreider, don’t say you can be completely cold?”
“I am ice cold, baby. Ice cold.”
“But hockey players can melt the ice.”
“No, they can walk on water…”
“Don’t try to outsmart me, fancy pants.”
“You gotta admit, those fancy pants are pretty hot.”
“Told you, calm down, tiger. Not here, our plane leaves shortly.”
“What about on the plane?”
You roll your eyes and look up at his eyes: “No. At Bora Bora. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
His hands squeeze your hips, kneading skin and flesh.
“Chris…”
“Come on, we are married now. I wonder if making love to my wife will be different than making love to my girlfriend.”
“Smooth, but still no,” you swat his hands away and kiss his lips again. Your hand tangles in his hair as you pull his head down to deepen the kiss.

“But I promise it will be worth it.”

Notes