Hockey Imagines

Tom Wilson - Washington Capitals (NHL)

A/N #1 : Listen to Jealous by Beyoncé, and after the lyric "Sometimes-" etc. you can listen to It's Quiet Uptown from Hamilton. Italics = Lyrics ; 'Italics' = Thought. ~ 1791 - N O R T H

So where the hell you at...

Tom was supposed to be home at ten thirty. Sure the Capitals won, I almost always let him go out with the team, but he needs to come home on time so I don't get worried. It's currently twelve fifty-nine. I was clueless as to where Tom is, was, or what he is doing, no calls, no texts, not even from teammates! 'What if Tom is cheating? Or just wants to get wasted and use you for sex?' My mind spat these horrid thoughts out at me.. 'No, no..! That's not Tom, he wouldn't do that..-would he?' I was basically challenging my own faith in Tom. Our apartment was dark, only lit by the décor lights. They're similar to circus lights, yellow, spheres, if you must. We got to have one pet, that's what the Landlord allowed. So we adopted a, currently, small black lab puppy, named Jake. He had a Caps collar, red with the eagle logo on it. He trotted up to the side of my right calf, and nudged it with his muzzle. I think Jake knows I'm upset. I walked over to the couch. My phone in hand, I noticed I had my Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table, it had incredible sound and bass. I turned it on, and went to my music, then found the perfect song; Jealous - Beyoncé! I quietly sung along, I liked-no loved the song. I pressed the home button on my phone, and when to messages, I pulled Tom's contact and texted : "Where are you, babe? You were supposed to be home at 10:30, but it's almost 1:00 am! I'm worried sick!" After about twenty minutes of singing and listening to "Jealous" on loop, I checked, nothing-still! I texted both Michael Latta and André Burakovsky in one group chat : "Wheres Tom?! You two can at least bring him home, right? He won't answer my texts, he was supposed to be home at 10:30, but he's not it and it's almost 1 in the freakin' MORNING!"

I sat down, Jake curled up in my lap, as I gently pet him. I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes, then they fell down my face, taking a small amount of mascara with them. My phone dinged, telling me I got a text. It was from the group chat ; "Sorry Y/N! I meant to take Michael and Tom home, but they insisted to stay longer, I chose to stay sober tonight. I just kind of found Tom, we're on our way to your guy's apartment.." It was from André. I replied with "Thank God you exist André Burakovsky, Oh My God!"

Sometimes I want to walk in your shoes ; Do the type of things that I never ever do...

Around twenty minutes later, I hear a knock at the door. I open it, seeing poor André supporting Michael and Tom, both VERY wasted! "Thank you for bringing him home, André. Bring Michael in,too. I'm going to take care of them..." Tom walked right past me, Jake was asleep on the king bed in our bedroom. As he passed he breathed heavily, I smelt the alcohol in his breath. He fell onto the couch, André smiled at me, "I'll do it any time, I'll stay to help." I smiled at the generous gesture. "You don't have to, but it'll help me a lot.." I sighed, as I walked over to Tom. "Tom, why were you not home when I asked you to?" He just laughed, "Drinking, DUH babbbeee," Tom's words were slurred. "You were supposed to be home at ten-thirty, it's one-fifteen! I was worried about you, Tom." He let out a sassy-sigh, "Can't I just go out without you breathing on my neck like a mom! Jesus Y/N!" He spat at me, I felt a few tears well in my eyes, "Then go live at the Goddamn bar then, Tom. I don't want to loose you, or anything! I love you to death, Tom. I just want to keep you safe." I replied to the angry drunk, tears slowly fell down my face, as soon as Tom realized he was making me cry, and how much his words hurt, he looked lost. "No, no, no..no! I'm so so so sorry Y/N! I-I didn't mean it-I-I love you with all my heart..I just got too carried away with it and-" I was sobbing, I fell into his arms. I didn't want to have anymore fighting. "I-It's o-okay T-tom.." I spoke shakily, he shook his side, seeming sober as ever, "I shouldn't have done this t-to you." I pulled me closer, his muscular and strong arms making me feel safer. I had my face buried in his toned chest, his thumb raised my chin. Our lips met, it was full of passion, love, and that never ever getting old spark. As we pulled away, clapping, from two people..Guess who? Your answer is :

André Burakovsky, and Michael Latta!

This episode may have caused pain, but it has made me and Tom stronger.

A/N #2 : Thanks for reading! ~ 1791 - N O R T H