NHL Imagines

Matt Duchene [COL]

For @MrsMattDuchene

You sit at a bar stool in a crowded bar in Denver, Colorado, completely engrossed in the alcoholic beverage in front of you that makes your senses tingle in delight. You sense a looming figure behind you but you stay seated in the same position, now twirling your drink around.

A throat is cleared behind you, "Excuse me, miss, have you already payed for that?" A finger is outstretched and points almost accusingly at your tasty drink. You shake your head and frown at the not-so-sober voice that takes the empty stool next to you. You look up to make eye contact with one of the Dallas Stars' stars, Tyler Seguin. You forgot the Stars came to Colorado to play against the Avalanche.

"I could pay for that if you'd like," he slurs and leans in, the smell of beer evident in his flashy teeth. "Such a hot girl like you deserves a guy who can pay for expensive drinks like these." He smirks and lifts up your drink, examining it.

"Sorry," your eyebrows crease as you carefully take your drink out of his hands, "I'm not really interested. I have a boyfriend after all." You cringe mentally at the lie that easily rolled off your tongue. You turn away slightly to begin pulling out your wallet to pay the bartender.

"Then where is he?" Tyler asks. You pause. You really didn't want to get into details that weren't true. You didn't want to pile lies on lies, but you also weren't completely sober so a filter really didn't exist at the moment.

"At work," you face Tyler with no emotion showing. He reaches his hand out and pushes several locks of hair behind your ear. His touch is rough and foreign to the softness of your skin. You feel uncomfortable with his closeness and slide off of the stool, though he follows suit and suddenly you're face to face.

"Then tell me why such a pretty face and a nice body like this," he rests his hands on your hips and lowers his head so that he can talk in your ear, "sits alone in the middle of a crowded bar?"

"My friends left me for the dance floor." Another lie hangs in the air. You actually just came to get a drink and get away from the stress of life itself. You didn't have any plans to get involved with anyone except the bartender.

"Well then, sexy," you feel his smirk against your tingling skin, "we should join them." He pulls away from your face and wraps his arm securely around your waist.

"No, no," you laugh nervously, your surroundings give off a slight blurriness with the bass of the music that blasts throughout the bar. "I am perfectly fine here, Tyler."

"Come on, baby, maybe if we get into it then we can hit the back room," he smiles seductively, his eyes going dark.

You cringe, "Don't call me that." You stop dead in your unwilling tracks, causing him to slightly trip and have to release you to regain his balance. Soon enough, your chin is lifted with a firm grip to meet his mocking gaze.

"Then what should I call you, baby?" He drunkenly laughs and you smack his tattooed arm away forcefully. He playfully pouts and rubs his forearm, but can't keep his act as he smirks and gives another laugh or two.

"A player like you doesn't deserve to call me anything." You frown and turn angrily on your heel. A perfect night, ruined. A hand roughly takes hold of your wrist and spins you around.

"Honey, I am no player," he chuckles seductively and tries to place his hands on your waist again, but you shove his broad chest away.

"Get your lying ass away from me!" you yell with authority evident in your voice.

A man comes up to the both of you and addresses Tyler, "Dude, don't you know how to respect women when they don't want to have sex with you?"

"The hell, do you think I don't know how to respect women?" Tyler angrily asks.

"Well you certainly don't respect them by forcing them to do things that they don't want to do!" The familiar-looking man yells back in agitation.

Tyler shoves to guy backwards and you back up to stay out of the brewing fight. The guy glances over at you quickly before engaging Tyler. That's when it clicked. You knew exactly who he was: Matt Duchene of the Colorado Avalanche!

All of a sudden, hell breaks loose as Tyler lunges at Matt and it becomes an all out brawl. Fists fly everywhere, curse words and insults float in the air.

You stand off to the side, watching them go after each other. You don't know whether or not you should try to break up the fight. But that would probably be risky and you didn't want to get injured.

A large figure enters your sight from the right and rushes to break the two men up. You assume it's some sort of security man or an employee of some sort because within seconds, the burly man rips Tyler off of Matt, who now lies on the floor with a bloody face because of their small wrestling match with a bit of punching involved. The manager, or whoever, leads Tyler elsewhere, but all you are worried about is the poor hockey player that lies in a daze.

You crouch down onto your knees to help him and inspect his wounds closer. You notice that he has a little bit of bruising around his right eye already and a busted lip, along with a large cut on his nose.

He moans in pain, rotating his head to see what's going on. Finally his eyes land on you and he sits up in a flash. You could've sworn it must've made him light-headed because he almost laid back down but held his ground.

"Matt, are you okay at all?" you ask with much concern lacing your words. You hold his shoulders to keep him steady. He moans again and you cringe with a frown. "Damn it, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. Maybe if I would've just let him pay-"

He cuts you off by putting a finger to your lips. "No, he wasn't treating you-ouch." He stops in the middle of his sentence and holds a hand up to his bleeding lip.

"I'm so stupid, I should've done something," you mumble, angry at your self for just standing around during the fight and not trying to stop it. "Hold on," you tell him and stand up, walking a few steps to the bar and asking for a towel. You grab one from the bartender and crouch down to Matt's level and begin to clean up his face.

After a few moments of silence, Matt asks, "How do you know who I am?"

"What?" You pause your dabbing motions on his nose and look at his pain-filled, brown eyes. "Oh, I'm a-uh, kind of a big Avalanche fan." You smile shyly and go back to concentrating on cleaning up the blood on his face.

"A very pretty Avs fan," he smirks and then cringes from the pain on his lip. He refocuses on you though, "What's your name, beautiful?"

"Katy," you smile with pride, "Katy Oliver."

"Wow," he breathes, "it fits you perfectly."

"Thank you," you blush a deep pink, you're quite flustered.

Suddenly he leans foreword and presses his lips to yours. He begins to kiss you with passion and you follow suit, matching his every move. Things start to get heated as your hands drop the bloody towel and grip onto his soft hair. You don't want to pull away but you both had to catch your breath. You look into his eyes and finally see what could possibly be a new beginning for you.

A/N - well that was a very crappy ending. I am so sorry if it's terrible. I was rushing to get it done and I finally did so here's the first imagine in this book! I hope you like it though! Please comment and vote, as well as request any player!!!! Thanks! ~Allison