NHL Imagines and One Shots

Torey Krug: "Shorter Or Not"

Torey Krug and Brad Marchand have had an ongoing feud on who is taller for a very long time, and of course the two would never get over it.

"Your hair just gives you extra height, Marchy. Anyone with little spikes in their hair would seem taller, but that doesn't mean they actually are." Torey would hiss, snatching his gear from his stall.

Brad's response always varied, but mainly was: "My hair doesn't do that. You were just measured wrong at camp, dork"

You did not care about Torey's height simply because he was still taller than you. So was Brad, but that never was something you worried about.

After a painful loss to the Montreal Canadiens, Torey was quite agitated. He seemed more upset than usual, but you did not want to bring attention to that. Instead you used patience with him and his currently very feisty attitude.

"I-I don't get it! We were all out there working so hard and yeah maybe a difficult season would bring down some of us but we always try to forget about that. It's not something we dwell on. The ice was great and we didn't have any mishaps really. Like you know those really weird uncommon ones? None of that happened" He went on and on about the game for what seemed like centuries, but only being the car ride home.

When he was getting out of the car, he had forgotten that the lawn mower was near him and ran into it, doubling over in pain because of his now injured crotch area.

"See! If I was taller...that wouldn't have happened! G-Geez...." You went around the car and kneeled down to him.

"Babe that still would have hurt whether you were my height or Chara's." You rubbed his cheek with your thumb gently. "I'm still short." He was not letting this end so easily.

"Come on." You held his hand and he stood up, groaning a bit. "Did somebody chirp you about your height tonight? Is that what's got you fired up?" You opened the door to the house and Torey thanked you, heading to the living room. "It's a new game the Canadiens started: 'Chirp guys on their height'. They think it's so funny. And you know what? Gallagher is short too! Why doesn't anyone come at him?" Torey began to pout, sitting with his legs tucked under him and arms crossed.

"Torey they do that to get in your head. Half of those guys probably wear insoles on a daily basis and hope no one checks the NHL page for their height or something." You grabbed two glasses of water, handing one to Torey as you sat down.

"____(Y/N), it's not just that. They act like they're so much better just because their heads almost hit ceilings in certain rooms." Torey took a sip of water.

"Do you really want to hit your head when you walk into the house? And how much can they account for? You've got the tallest guy in the league on your team who struggles with comfortably laying in bed when he goes to hotels. They can only say so much." He nodded, seeing your point.

"But if I was taller I could finally end the fight with Brad and win!" Torey whined. You rolled your eyes.

"That is long overdue. Just say something about him being older than you. Call him an grumpy old man. That'll change the run of things." You chuckled and hugged him tightly. "That's brilliant! I'm gonna do it. You always have the best plans." You shrugged.

"But on the bright side, you're shorter than me, and if I'm short, you're short." Torey chuckled to himself.

"Excuse you!" You jokingly sassed. "Excuse you! What? Are you going to drop your fake gloves and come after me?" He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

You flicked your hands as if dropping off gloves and sat in his lap. "You wanna tussle, buddy?" You tried to seem aggressive and frightening, but Torey only laughed.