butterflies ઇଓ matt sturniolo imagines

𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

     the idea of playing a hockey match with matt, nick, chris, and madi was nothing if not absolutely petrifying.

     the plan was pitched to you by your boyfriend, with the others standing mischievously behind him because they knew only matt was capable of convincing you to do things. you were sitting in matt's living room with nick and chris hanging around the edge of the couch as matt sat beside you; madi was busy messing with a diamond painting at the kitchen table. the boy pleaded with you, and at first you did not give in to anything.

     "we've been dying to make another one of these videos, and you know that our subscribers love you and madi!" he smiled as charmingly as he could. you saw the motive behind his sparkling teeth, though.

     "i'm not willing to make a fool of myself on camera, matt!"

     "but you've skated your whole life! you know what you're doing! you won't even know the camera's there, you'll just be having fun, i promise,"

     he was right. you figure skated through middle and high school, and you used to play half-assed hockey matches with his and your friends growing up. you knew your way around a rink. but on camera, where millions of people could watch you get knocked on your ass and laugh? no. no way.

     "matt, it's going to be humiliating."

     "i made them agree to rules, babe. my brothers and i cannot knock you down, and no one can play too rough on you-"

     "that's even worse! you're gonna go easy on me because i'm a girl!"

     "no, not because you're a girl!" matt rolled his eyes, "because you're my girlfriend!" he annunciated.

     "come on, it'll be fun," madi piped up from her spot at the kitchen table. "i don't want to be the only girl!"

chris and nick were looking over matt's shoulders now, puppy eyes practically spilling "please"s out of their soft faces; madi smiled knowingly from the kitchen, as if to say, don't make me do it alone. matt sat right next to you now, tapping a little beat on your kneecap and waiting expectantly for you to give in.
and oh, how you hated to give in...

"fine. fine, jesus," you sighed.

matt had helped your scour through storage to find your skates the next day, and then he collected his brothers and madi in a rush. they'd booked the rink for a few hours under the fib of a practice session so you guys could mess around in peace.

you hurried home to change with the few hours before your booking. since they were filming a video, you were ten times more invested in getting ready. if they'd convinced you on a camera-less day, you'd probably show up in sweatpants and all your hair shoved into a beanie for comfort. but this was going on youtube, and you didn't want to look insane. you spent all day rummaging through your clothes to find some sort of athletic wear that didn't have a rip in a seam or an age-old stain, and you were about ready to give up when you landed on the only presentable piece you had- but you wanted to die just thinking of wearing it.
     you still had a practice set from your figure skating days. it was a long sleeve black leotard with holes for the thumbs and a baby pink skating skirt with shorts underneath. you loved it back then, and you loved the way you looked in it, but playing hockey in it? and in your boyfriend's youtube video? that was a death wish!

you were seconds away from texting madi and asking if she had any spare clothes when your phone buzzed with a facetime call from the boy who dragged you into this.