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wildrangers · 2 years

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Warrior {part two} // Ryan Lindgren

Word Count: 2K

Summary: The New York Rangers suffer another tough loss as the Eastern Conference Finals continue. (Note: this is technically the second part but can be read alone; you just get more relationship context with the first part)

Warnings: Swearing, sad Ryan, fluff, mentions of injuries

“God, this game is stressing me out” you said, massaging your temples as you watched Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Final from the Friends and Family box at MSG. The girls around you murmured their agreement, none of them taking their eyes off the game below. The boys were playing well but Tampa was a tough team; though no one had said it, this game felt critical to them being able to make it into the Finals next week.

You shot up in excitement as you watched Ryan get control of the puck, quickly shooting it off. The split second it took to go into the back of the net felt like a lifetime but the box blew up when the horn sounded. Tate and Kelly threw their arms around you and you squeezed them tight, pride overtaking you.

“I definitely didn’t have Lindy getting a goal tonight on my bingo card” Tate joked making you all laugh. “Never tell him I said this, but me neither” you admitted. The mood remained high until later in the period when Tampa evened it up again. You felt even worse as the third period started and Ryan took a puck to his bad ankle.

“He must be hiding a magnet or something in there” Kelly joked, trying to lighten the mood as your eyes stayed glued to his limping form. You were relieved he was standing and able to hop the boards onto the bench.

“I’m starting to think other teams are placing bets on if they can whack that ankle” you replied, making sure he wasn’t going off to the locker room. Half an hour later, it looked like overtime would be necessary as the final moments of regulation creeped away. “Come on guys, end this now” Tate muttered under her breath, eyes glued to the ice.

You all watched in horror as Tampa’s same D-man scored again. Silence descended over the arena and you slumped back into your chair. Your heart broke for Chris as he remained kneeling on the ice for a moment, guilt clearly written on his face. You gave his girlfriend’s shoulder a squeeze.

You knew they’d pull Igor and maybe get lucky but for some reason, a sense of dread had settled over you. Your fears were confirmed a moment later when an empty net goal made it 3-1 with less than a minute to go. You watched in stunned silence as the crowd swarmed the walkways, hurriedly making their ways to the exits. Your gaze turned towards the bench and saw every man on it looking shell-shocked and devastated. You kept reminding yourself there was a chance for another comeback but the loss stung and you worried about Ryan.

As the buzzer blew, you watched as a fight broke out in the corner. You knew Adam was down there at the center of it, so you weren’t surprised when Ryan flew into action. You squeezed Tate’s hand watching as your boyfriends fought to protect one another. After a few moments, the scruff cleared up and you frowned taking in the sight of Ryan’s forehead dripping blood. “Wouldn’t be a playoff hockey game if he didn’t add on an injury” you mumbled to yourself.

The girls waited until the arena emptied out before quietly making your way down the tunnel, all of you preparing for the worst when you saw your respective partners. Players soon filed past, obviously wanting to get away from the rink and this loss as soon as possible. You saw Adam emerge and felt your nerves flair when you didn’t see Ryan alongside him.

“Is Ryan alright?” you asked him as he squeezed Tate to his chest. He nodded to you over her head, “He got picked for media with Troubs so they’ll be a bit.”

You nodded, giving them both a hug so they could leave before settling onto the ground with Kelly at your side. “I really hope our guys do the first round of interviews; Jacob gets so antsy when he has to stay after a big loss” Kelly sighed.

You nodded, though you weren’t as worried about Ryan having to stay. It really didn’t matter because you were in for a long, quiet night once he did make his way out to you. Some guys had to blow off steam after losing but Ryan just settled even farther into himself as he processed the game over and over in his mind. You were dreading what the next 24 hours would look like; it was unbelievably difficult to watch him suffer with no way to soothe him.

Awhile later, footsteps echoed down the hallway. You breathed a sigh of relief when you made eye contact with Ryan as you and Kelly stood to meet them halfway. Jacob barely stopped long enough to kiss Kelly’s cheek before they excused themselves. You knew better than to fuss over the swollen, bandaged bump on his forehead so you just pulled him close to you, hoping your touch would bring him some comfort.

He released a deep sigh as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your neck to breathe you in. You stayed like this a moment longer before he pulled away, placed a brief kiss on your mouth, and took your hand, leading you to the car. Unsurprisingly, the car ride was a quiet one making it feel much longer than normal.

It was closing in on midnight when you and Ryan emerged from the elevator and made it to your shared apartment. As he dropped the keys by the door, he made his way towards the bedroom with you close behind. “When did they tell you to change your bandage?” you asked. He glanced down at his watch before answering, “Right about now but I really just want to soak in the tub, my legs are so sore.”

“You go ahead, I’ll grab the supplies and then clean you up, okay?” you offered. Most times, he wanted to take care of himself but he nodded at you gratefully before entering the bathroom. After assembling everything you’d need, you found him lying in a steaming hot bath, eyes closed. You took a moment to admire him: the strong lines of his jaw and cheek bones, the slope of his shoulders that were the only thing peeking out above the water.

As you kneeled beside him, his eyes opened, meeting yours. Your heart broke a little at the sadness within them and you placed a gentle kiss on his brow. “Let’s see the damage, yeah?” He nodded and as gently as you could, you peeled the large bandage off his forehead. You weren’t shocked to see a couple of stitches on his forehead, blood stains surrounding the cut itself. You tsked at the cut before warning “This is going to hurt” as you placed the rubbing alcohol wipe onto it. Ryan hissed and your other hand soothingly rubbed his cheek as you carefully wiped away any leftover debris.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you reached behind you for a new, smaller bandage but paused, surprised to see Ryan’s eyes firmly on yours. “Thank you for doing this, love” he said softly.

“You know I’m happy to” you replied leaning in for a kiss. His hand emerged from the water to wrap around the back of your head, neither of you caring that he was dampening your hair and dripping water onto the floor. As your lips moved in harmony, you took a moment to appreciate how he was finally, after all this time, allowing you to see him in such a vulnerable state. You knew it wasn’t easy for him so it meant all the more to you. You pulled away, focusing your attention back on his cut, quickly covering it with the new bandage.

“There, good as new. Or, I guess, as good as can be expected this time of year” you smiled and Ryan chuckled. You went to stand up but his hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Stay?” he requested, again taking you by surprise. “Are you sure?” you questioned and he nodded firmly. You stripped off your clothes and sat down opposite him in the large soaking tub, the hot water loosening your muscles. The fit was a little tight but neither of you minded, your legs tangling together beneath the water.

You sat in comfortable silence together for several moments, your head leaning back, eyes closed as you simply enjoyed your boyfriend’s comforting presence. It took you a moment to notice he was sniffling and you quickly sat up reaching for him. His tearful eyes met yours and you shushed him quietly, leaning over to hold him against you. As he quietly cried against your shoulder, you rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring sweet nothings until he finally quieted. You leaned back just far enough to wipe away his tears: “Baby, tell me what you’re thinking.”

He sighed, grasping your hands as you curled up on his lap the best you could. “I just didn’t do enough and it cost the team. I’m so fucking scared our season will be over in two days” he admitted, refusing to meet your stare.

His tears and admission shocked you—Ryan was always the type of guy to put on a tough front no matter the situation. “Ry, you did more than enough. You were the only goal scorer, you were great defensively, and you gave it your all. And you still have Saturday, don’t count yourselves out yet. You guys have fought back from worse than a one-game deficit.” He took a deep breath, seemingly trying to let your words sink in. “I know you won’t believe anything I just said, but it’s true. You’ve fought day in and day out for this team and you should be proud of yourself, no matter what happens.”

“But we’re just so fucking close you know? I really thought we had this game and I just can’t wrap my head around a third straight loss like this, it’s so fucking frustrating.” He was still avoiding your gaze, stare fixed on the floor beside you. You nodded at his words, tracing patterns on his palms beneath the surface, “I know, love, I know.” You cupped his cheek, gently guiding his eyes to your own.

“No matter what happens, I am so fucking proud of you, Ry. You’re a warrior, you’re a leader, and you’re an amazing man. Whatever you need, I’m here, okay? Always.”

You saw his eyes line with silver again and quickly leaned forward placing gentle kisses on each lid, trying to keep his tears at bay. “No more tears, my love. You’re not done yet and you have to get your head on straight for Saturday, okay?”

He nodded before softly smiling at you, “Have I mentioned I’d be lost without you, Y/N/N?”

You grinned back at him, “Once or twice but I won’t stop you from reminding me. Now, can we please get out? We’re turning into prunes.” He agreed and you got up, helping him to his feet. You snuck a glance at his ankle and were glad to see it looked no worse for wear after taking another puck tonight. “Stop fussing, mother hen” he teased and you blushed; apparently you hadn’t been as sly as you thought.

You both got out of the tub, dried off, and put on pajama’s before settling beneath the covers. Normally, Ryan would pull you to him but tonight he chose to rest his head on your chest, arms wrapped tight around your middle, legs twisted together. You kissed the top of his head, avoiding his new injury, and slowly ran your fingers through his hair. He hummed at your touch, nuzzling deeper into your side. “I love you, Y/N” he mumbled and you returned the sentiment before closing your eyes. You fought your tiredness until Ryan’s body went heavy against yours and his breathing evened out. Satisfied he had allowed himself to fall asleep, you quickly joined him.

A/N: I was clearly in my post-loss feels while writing this-here's to hoping the Rangers can bounce back this weekend! As always, let me know your thoughts and thanks for all the love :)

#ryan lindgren blurb #ryan lindgren imagine #ryan lindgren fic #ryan lindgren #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #new york rangers blurb #new york rangers imagine #warrior series

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wildrangers · 2 years

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Warrior // Ryan Lindgren

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: The New York Rangers are going to the Eastern Conference Finals. That's something to celebrate, right?

Warnings: Cursing, angst (resolved at the end)

continue here

You could hear people saying your name but couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. There was your boyfriend, Ryan, laying prone on the ice. Someone grabbing your hand brought you back to yourself and you blinked, looking over at Tate who was watching you with concern.

“He’s getting up, he’s going to be okay, alright?” she said, squeezing your hand. On your other side, you felt Fran rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. You nodded at her comment before returning your gaze to the screen. Ryan had gotten up at this point and was being helped off of the ice—he wasn’t putting any weight on his already injured foot, but he was skating, at least.

“I can’t decide if it’ll be worse if he comes back or is out for the rest of the game” you sighed. Ryan had been injured since the first playoff game and he wasn’t exactly at 100% before that had happened.

“I already texted Gabe, he’s going to update us as soon as he can, okay?” Fran said placing her phone in her lap. Gabe was the trainer working closest with Ryan throughout the playoffs so you were grateful he’d flown to North Carolina with the team. “Thanks Fran, I really appreciate it. Playoffs are stressful enough without feeling panicky every time he takes a hit” you said and the girls squeezed you again.

“I know, hun, but he’s going to be okay. He’s as tough as they come” Fran said before the two girls returned to watching the game. You knew she meant it to be comforting, but you felt that familiar rage simmering below the surface. You understood this was his career and that it’s playoffs. But you were also the one fighting with him to just rest on his days off, the one watching him wince in pain every time he took a step around your shared apartment despite the team’s doctors telling him to stay off of it as much as possible.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and returned your attention to the game, hoping to distract yourself. But, as you saw a familiar face flash across the screen, you felt both your shoulders sag in relief and your anger bubble a little closer to the surface.

“Look! He’s okay, he’s back” Tate smiled, squeezing your hand once more. “Being back and okay aren’t the same thing” you said and immediately regretted the annoyed tone in your voice. “I’m sorry Tate, it’s just so frustrating to watch him play like this” you explained but she shrugged off the apology.

“It’s okay, we get it, right Fran?” Tate said as Fran nodded in agreement. “I know, that’s why you’re the best” you said smiling at them, shoving that fury down so it wouldn’t explode on two of your best friends. You missed the two girls exchanging a worried, knowing glance as you all focused on the TV again.

Tate was your co-worker and had introduced you to Ryan a little over a year ago. You were endlessly grateful that she had because Ryan was fierce and strong but also thoughtful and kind. He always said what was on his mind and didn’t shy away when you did the same. Which usually was every chance you got but you had never navigated playoff hockey with a professional athlete before, let alone an injured one. Fran and Chris had been together last time the Rangers went to the playoffs while Tate and Adam were high school sweethearts—this may be their first NHL playoffs as a couple but they had stuck together every other step of the way. Their history made this so much easier than it was for you. Or, at least that’s what you told yourself as you moped through the rest of the second period and most of the third.

“Holy shit, they’re going to do it” Tate squealed as they reclaimed their four-goal lead yet again. With less than 2 minutes left, you wanted to agree but also didn’t want to somehow jinx it. But she was right—they were really going to fucking do this. As the clock wound down, you felt your growing excitement and you all cheered as the buzzer sounded. You were able to stay in this good mood for the next hour as you all celebrated together. Close to midnight, you walked them out of your apartment with plans to meet up for dinner before the game in two days.

As you locked the door behind you, you heard your phone chirp from the living room. You went over and smiled as you read Ryan’s text: I can’t wait to celebrate with you tomorrow, get a good night’s sleep babe. We’re taking off now, love you

You sent back a quick note before getting ready for bed. You’d decided to surprise Ryan by taking the next few days off—either to comfort him or, in this case, to celebrate and spend time together while you could. As you scrolled through your Twitter feed, you found yourself clicking on the NYR Eastern Conference announcement. You normally avoided looking at comments but this was good news, so you didn’t expect to see anything negative. And what you saw wasn’t bad, necessarily, but you felt your temper flare anyway.

NYR55FAN: Way to go boys! Happy to see Lindgren back on the ice, the dude could lose a limb and he’d finish the game

The comment was hilarious, true, and already had over 100 likes. But it made you think of every time you offered to give Ryan’s ankle a massage or help him do the stretches Gabe had prescribed, only for him to insist he had a project or chore he had to get done. And just like that, you were furious at him for not listening to his trainers and making you see him in so much pain, some of which could be avoided if he would just set aside his pride and let you help him.

You shook your head as you closed your phone, hoping to sleep off the anger and frustration. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning as more and more memories of Ryan in pain flashed across your mind. You heard the front door click open a few hours later and you shot up in bed before realizing it was already after 2AM and it was Ryan, not a burglar, at the front door.

As you made your way down the hallway, you heard him cursing under his breath. You peaked around the corner and found him sitting on the arm of the couch, struggling to take his shoe off his bad foot. You watched in horror as he removed his sock revealing his bruised, swollen ankle. You took in a sharp breath and his head whipped around to face you. You saw confusion cross his face before he checked his phone, “Y/N, it’s almost 2:30 why are you still up?” he asked.

You walked closer replying, “I took off the next few days but please tell me your ankle didn’t look like that before you went back onto the ice earlier.” His eyes quickly moved away from yours and you knew the answer; of course, it had.

“You’re such a stubborn idiot” you muttered under your breath running your hands over your face in frustration. Unfortunately for Ryan, he mistook your statement for sarcasm so he replied, “What’s a sprained ankle when we’re halfway to the Cup.” When only silence met him, he turned to you, seeing your face growing redder and your fists clenched at your sides.

“Ryan, this isn’t funny. You’re injured and just keep getting more injured and insisting on playing through it. You're really going to hurt yourself!" you yelled at him, unable to stop yourself. He scoffed at you, “You’re kidding right? It’s play-"

“It’s playoffs, yes, I know, but contrary to what you want to believe you’re still a fucking human, Ryan, not some indestructible warrior” you spat, instantly regretting your word choice as you saw hurt flash across his face.

“When have I ever said I’m indestructible? This is what comes with playing hockey professionally, Y/N! Why are you picking a fight over this at 2:30 in the fucking morning?!” he yelled.

“I’m not picking a fight; I’m trying to get some fucking sense through that thick skull of yours!” you yelled, walking closer to him.

“Oh, so I’m stupid now too, huh? Thanks for the warm welcome back!” he screamed, shooting to his feet. His face immediately scrunched up in pain and you ran to his side, helping him sit back down on the couch despite him trying to do it on his own. Once he was settled you walked into the kitchen to get some ice for him. As you wrapped it in a towel, you found yourself holding back tears. You couldn’t believe you’d thrown him being called a warrior back in his face like that; you knew how hard he was fighting, how much that moniker meant to him. And you’d used it as an insult which made you feel like the shittiest girlfriend ever. That feeling faded quickly as you re-entered the living room only to find Ryan limping down the hallway.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me Ry!” you shouted as tears streamed down your face. He ignored you, going into your shared room and slamming the door behind him. You quickly followed behind, finding him sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed in obvious pain.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N, I know I shouldn’t have walked by myself down here but I’m not a total invalid, you know” he sniped at you. When you didn’t answer, he looked up to find you holding his ice and shaking with sobs. “Baby?” he questioned and went to get up before you shot across the room and shoved him back down.

“Would you just stop doing shit to hurt yourself more, Ryan?!” you shouted through your tears, sitting on the floor in front of him. “I know how much this injury sucks for you and how much pain you’re in but have you stopped to think what it’s like for me to watch you go through this? To see you pushing yourself at home when you’re already doing too much on the ice? To have to watch you every game, waiting for you to take another bad hit?”

He hadn’t, actually, thought about that and he was kicking himself for it now. He was so focused on staying active, working through his injury, and playing games he hadn’t considered what it would be like for you to watch him do it. He immediately thought about the panic he’d felt when you’d returned home with a sprained, bandaged wrist after a workout class. He had worried and fussed, driving you nuts, but you had let him because you knew it made him feel better. He’d never stopped to think how you may have those same fears for him now, made even worse because of his job.

He reached his hand out to you and you took it in your own looking up at him through teary eyes. “I really didn’t mean to pick a fight but seeing you on the ice like that again was so fucking scary, Ryan” you said, lips wobbling as you fought back tears.

“Come sit with me baby, okay? Let’s just talk this through” he said and you nodded. Rather than sit beside him, you pulled over a spare chair, lifted his injured foot onto your lap and held the ice to the worst of his bruises. His heart warmed at the gesture—this was why he loved you. Because despite your anger and this stupid fight, you were still taking care of him.

“I’m not going to lie, Y/N, you’re right. I was so focused on the Cup and my ankle that I never imagined what it would be like for you, which was really fucking selfish of me. I’m sorry” he said.

You shook your head replying, “You’re allowed to be selfish right now, Ry, I know how much this means to you. I’ve just never done this before. All the other girls at least went through some type of playoff situation with their guys before, I haven’t. I didn’t know how to share my concerns without making you feel bad or frustrated with me for not sucking it up.”

“Babe, you don’t have to suck it up. I do because it’s my job but you don’t. You never do with me, you know that, right? You can always speak your mind” he explained. You knew he meant it so you nodded your head. You stood up, gently placing his foot on the chair, before settling onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle with your head tucked under his chin. You sat like that for a moment, just enjoying being together again after a tense few days apart.

“I do take it back though, Ry, you’re my fucking warrior. I just wished you’d let me carry some of your burden. I get you have to put on a brave face with the guys and on the ice but not here, not in our home. You’re not fooling me anyway” you said gently, making him smile and kiss the top of your head.

“I knew you didn’t mean it. I am pretty bad ass after all” he quipped causing you to lightly punch his chest as you lifted your head up to glare at him. “There she is” he smiled down at you before giving you a gentle kiss. As you pulled away, you caught his face in your hands.

“You have to promise me one thing, okay?” you said looking into his deep blue eyes. He nodded as he nuzzled his head into your hands. “Please listen to Gabe about the at-home restrictions. Just rest and stretch and let me take care of everything else. You have to save your energy for game nights. Can you do that for me?” you asked nervously biting your lip.

“I swear it” he replied, looping his pinky with your own causing you to giggle. “I’m sorry for being a stubborn idiot” he said, repeating your words back to you making you laugh harder.

“It’s okay, I should know by now that that’s just who you are” you teased causing him to fake offense. “Now, let’s get to bed, yeah?”

“Yes, please, I’m exhausted” he sighed, allowing you to help him stand. You quickly removed his suit before helping him into the comfy shorts you’d left laying out for him. Once he was settled laying down, you swapped his ice for his heat wrap, carefully wrapping his ankle just so before getting into bed with him. You felt yourself relax fully as you rested your head on his chest, his fingers running soothingly through your hair.

“Ry?” you mumbled, feeling sleep creep closer and he hummed in response. “I’m really fucking proud of you for making it to the Conference finals.”

You felt him smile and place a quick kiss to your head, expressing his thanks. “I have an idea for how you can congratulate me in the morning” he said causing you to roll your eyes at him. “We’ll see hot shot, we’ll see” you chuckled before finally drifting off to sleep.

A/N: In honor of the Rangers making it to the Eastern Conference Finals!! This post-season has made me love Lindgren even more, so this was fun to write. Debating writing more parts as the playoff's continue--would y'all read it? Any feedback welcome :)

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