NHL Imagines

Ryan Strome

*Ryans POV*
"Y/N, babe, I'm home!" I said, throwing my stuff down by the door. She yelled a response from the kitchen, so I made my way there.
I walked into the kitchen to find my girlfriend grinning at me over an immense pile of baking ingredients and mixes. I raised my eyebrows. "Do I even want to know?"
She ran over and grabbed my hand, tugging me further into the kitchen. She then handed me an apron. "I have to make some stuff for my office's party, and you're going to help me!" She said giddily, opening an old recipe book to a bookmarked page.
I chuckled. "Okay, what are we making first?" I rested my head on her shoulder as she read the recipe for chocolate chip cookies out loud.
She giggled. "Ryan, I can't make cookies with your heavy head on my shoulder."
Sighing, I stood up straight. She smiled. "That's better, now hand me the bigger bowl, the butter, the sugar, and the brown sugar."
"Ma'am yes ma'am!" I saluted, and then turned to get what I was told. When I collected it all from her huge pile of ingredients, I placed them in front of her. She turned and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, love."
After that, I didn't do much other than bug her. After a few minutes of watching her mix ingredients, I got bored. I moved to walk out of the kitchen, when Y/N stopped me. "Excuse me, mister, where do you think you're going?"
"I'll be right back, I promise. If not you can give me detention, Miss." I replied, causing her to laugh. I walked into the living room and grabbed a speaker and my phone before returning to the kitchen. I plugged the speaker in and connected my phone to it, then turned on some music. Y/N shook her head with a smile, her eyes fixed on the recipe. "You're a child." She said.
I hummed in agreement and strode over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind.
"Ryan, off." She said, swatting at my hand with a spatula.
"No." I whined, tightening my grip around her waist. "I'm bored. Make me un-bored."
"I have to finish baking!" She tried turning to grab something behind her, but couldn't get out of my arms and ended up facing me. I smiled down at her. She narrowed her eyes at me. "Ryan-"
"Yes, Y/N?"
"I need you to move, please." She said, trying to worm her way out of my arms.
"Not until you make me un-bored." I replied, burying my head in her neck.
"You're such a baby! If you let me finish this batch, I'll entertain you while they're baking. Now move!" She shoved me lightly and I let go of her.
She kept her word, and soon the cookies were in the oven. She wiped her hands and looked at me. "Now what?" She said, raising an eyebrow at me. Instead of answering her, I grabbed her hand and twirled her.
"Ryan, I don't dance." She giggled, punching my arm lightly.
"I could teach you. I'm a pretty smooth dancer, if I do say so myself." I twirled her again, causing her laughter to continue.
"No thanks. I'll keep to baking." She moved to turn back towards the oven, but before she could do anything, I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder.
"Ryan, put me down!" She squealed, hitting my back.
"Nope. You said you would entertain me. If you aren't going to try, then I'll entertain myself."
She laughed and continued to hit my back. "Ryan, put me down right now!"
I gave an exaggerated sigh. "Fine." I put her down on her feet, her hair now a mess and her face bright red.
"I hate you." She said, laughing.
"You love me, don't deny it." I said, kissing her cheek.
She sniffled the air and made a foul face. "Oh god." She grabbed an oven mitt and pulled very burnt cookies from the oven. She dropped them on the counter and gave me a stern look. "I blame you."
I grabbed one and took a bite. The hot cookie burned my tongue and attacked my taste buds, causing me to cough. She raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. I gave her a thumbs up. "They're great."
She laughed again and shook her head. "You're an idiot. Now I have to start over. I'm never letting you help again."
"Aww, come on babe, you know you had a blast!" I said, wrapping my arms around her waist.
"Yeah, well thanks to you I'll be up baking all night." She muttered, taking her apron off. "There's also flour all over the place. Guess who gets to clean that." She looked at me with her eyebrows raised.
"You?" I said sheepishly.
She flung a washcloth at me. "Nope. Get cleaning, mister."