NHL IMAGINES [SLOW UPDATES]

Michael Latta

look at this cutie someone help me 

heyyyy this one is a bit longer than all my other ones so enjoy :) 

"Knock, knock," Michael's voice accompanies the sound of his knuckles on your door.

"Come in," you shout in response. You grab your handbag and coat off of your bed and go to the entryway to meet him at the door.

"Hey, Y/N," Michael greets you as he lets himself in.

"Hey," you respond, setting your things down to hug him. "Ready to – where's your tie?" You lose your train of thought, noticing his bare collar.

"Oh, right," his face changes at the realization. He reaches into the chest pocket of his suit jacket and produces two rolled-up neckties. "I wanted to give you final say." He unfurls the ties and drapes one on each shoulder. "Which one?"

"Hm." You look between the two ties, then down at your own dress. Unfortunately, you didn't get any say over your outfit, being a bridesmaid and all, but Michael just happened to bring a tie that was a fairly similar color. "That one," you answer, pointing to the near-match.

He tosses the other one onto the table and starts putting on the tie you chose, fumbling with the knot.

"Let me," you offer, taking the ends of the fabric from his hands and knotting the tie for him. You straighten it out then step back. "Looks good," you nod.

"So do you," he replies. "Um, I mean, thanks," he adds, faltering. He offers you his arm and you take it, grabbing your purse off the table and heading to the car.

"Tell me why we're doing this again," Michael says impatiently as he weaves through the traffic on the way to the venue.

"I'm doing this because it's my sister's wedding. I'm the Maid of Honor and my attendance is mandatory. You're doing this because the Maid of Honor can't be dateless and you owed me a favor," you explain for what feels like the hundredth time.

"But does this really count as a 'favor'?" He puts air quotes around the word for emphasis. "I mean, going as someone's date to a wedding is more than a simple favor."

"Don't act like I've never done anything for you, Latta," you warn. "Remember that time that I came home early from my vacation, all because you called me, hysterical about –"

"Yeah, I remember. That's enough of that," he interrupts you, reaching across to your seat, as if to restrain you, laughing nervously. It makes you laugh, too, at the memory.

The car turns into the parking lot of the venue and Michael parks near the back entrance.

You unbuckle, then lean over to grab his hand off of the steering wheel, cupping it between your own. "So, can you just be good today? It is my sister's wedding, after all. You might actually have fun if you stop bitching about having to go." You give him a pleading look, his hand still wrapped in yours.

He looks back at you, quietly processing your suggestion. "Fine," he concedes. "I'll be a good date," he adds with a lop-sided smile.

"Thank you," you reply, stretching across to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You're the best. Now, let's get inside before anyone starts wondering where I am." You get out of the car and hurriedly lead him into the venue.

"There you are, Y/N," your sister bursts out as you enter the bridal suite. "I thought maybe you'd gotten lost, or forgotten the date, or something." She comes over and gives you a hug. "You look beautiful," she adds, holding you at arms' length to look at you.