NHL IMAGINES [SLOW UPDATES]

John Tavares

requested by musicsmylove97

As soon as he got checked into the boards, the other wives were pushing you downstairs to go check on him. He was still on the bench, I don't think he wanted to admit that he was hurt, but we all knew he was.

The silence that followed was bad -you couldn't understand anyone all you could hear is russian- you waited in the locker room for him to give into the pain, but he doesn't. Babcock was smarter than that, he refused to let John back on the ice.

When the quarter ended, John couldn't walk without help, instead of letting him change out of his gear, he was rushed straight into the medical room.

"F*ck!" He shouts throwing his helmet and gloves to the ground after him, you don't mention you are there, and you follow them, picking up the discarded gear.

After some poking and prodding at his leg, they get him up on a bed, and he finally starts to calm down. "Has someone called Y/N yet? Is she on her way down?"

You poke your head into the room, shooting him a small smile, "I saw your temper tantrum." You show him the padded shorts, skates, and everything else you picked up.

His eyes look to the floor, and you can tell he was ashamed that he did that, "Not my brightest moment." He discarded everything he was wearing besides his compression shorts and shoulder pads. Today was one of those days that he decided to not wear a shirt under the gear.

The medic leaves to give you two some room. John shifts carefully and dangles his legs off the bed, and he starts to move his leg with the brace they have on for his knee. "Here let me help you with that." You move closer to him and unbuckle the straps one by one, and in one fluid motion John pulls it off and grabs the shirt that you put next to him.

He didn't want to talk and it was really obvious, but he still pulls you in between his legs, and hugs you to his chest. John rests his head on your shoulder, "I wanted to be the one to score the winning goal this year."

"I know." It was a simple answer but you couldn't really say anything else.

"I wanted to be able to see you banging on the glass when we win the final game, and that proud look on your face when I get my medal."

You tilt his head up to look at you, "You mean this proud face? I already am proud, and I have no doubt in the world that the team isn't going to let you down. You're going to be on that ice with them -in your gear or in a suit- holding a medal."

"Y/N I don't-"

"I don't care, you are going to be happy, and cheer for your team next to me." You grab his hand and place it on your stomach, "And maybe, in 2018, you could win the game for this one."

He stares at his hand in confusion, but then realization washes over him and happiness fills his eyes, "We're having a kid? Your pregnant?" He asks just to clarify, and you slowly nod.

He hugs you again, tighter than before, "This is amazing, how long have you known?" He asks you.

"I'm almost 3 months, I have a very small bump but it's there." You push your pointer finger and thumb together to show how big it is. John tries to lift your shirt up to see, but you don't let him.

"Damn Y/N, how come I didn't notice? Have you had any morning sicknesses? Cravings? Is that why you've been wearing my clothes?"

You couldn't answer him because you were laughing, and he was trying to get your attention. "Y/N! Y/N! Focus. When can we find out the gender because I want to name it if it is a boy."

With the injury off his mind, you can see the happiness in his eyes, and you couldn't help but let it rub off on you.