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wannabehockeygf · 2 months

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Wild Side - Auston Matthews

“I learned to read between the lines,

You’re talking truths,

You’re talking lies.”

Summary: When you wake up in the bed of Toronto's most eligible bachelor, you decide to stick around. Pairing: Auston Matthews x fem! reader Word count: 6.5k Warnings: Talking about sex (oral, f and m receiving, and then regular p in v stuff) talking about general naughty things, William Nylander slander. Notes: - this is just a silly little idea dump bc I miss am34 and I wanted to write about him - briefly proof read. definitely not much.

he could definitely throw me around 🫶🏼

***

Your 9-to-5 job has conditioned you to enjoy the sweet luxury of sleeping in on the weekends, but today is an exception.

An alarm slices through the peaceful silence like a buzz saw, blaring that dreadful default 'radial' tone. Who even keeps that sound as their wake-up call anymore? Honestly, it feels like a war crime against your ears. Your brain is still a foggy mess, trying to piece together where you are, and why the hell that sound is assaulting you so early.

As the alarm continues its torturous duty, you catch a groan—deep, gravelly, and full of regret. Ah, the mystery man whose bed you seem to be occupying. Right. The events of last night are a bit of a blur, but you’re sure he’s equally as hungover, possibly even more so given how he seems to be wrestling his phone like it’s personally offended him.

The bed creaks in protest as he shifts his weight, and before you can even muster the will to open your eyes, you feel the prickle of his beard grazing your cheek as he leans over you. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice rough and tired, “I have to go. You can stay as long as you want, use my shower, sleep in my bed, whatever. Just… if you never want to see me again, I’ll be back by ten, so, you know, leave before then.”

His words drift into your consciousness like wisps of smoke, barely registering as you teeter on the edge of sleep. You give a noncommittal hum, a universal noise of “sure, whatever,” and within seconds, the rustling of clothes and the click of the door shutting have you sinking back into blissful oblivion. ***

A few hours later, you're jarred awake by something wet and warm on your face. "Ugh, what the…?" you mumble, peeling one eye open. A pair of big, soulful dog eyes meet yours, tongue lolling out in a doggy grin. It’s a doodle, of course—because why wouldn’t mystery man have an adorable dog to complete the fantasy?

You blink, taking in your surroundings. Yep, still in his bed. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to gather the scraps of last night. Your head throbs as you scan the room, landing on the trash can by the bedside table. The shiny foil wrapper inside it nearly makes you weep with relief. No walk of shame to the pharmacy for a Plan B today. Thank you, Past You, for at least being responsible in your drunken haze.

You quickly realize, however, that you’re stark naked, and the thought of shimmying back into that tiny dress from last night makes your skin crawl. But you also smell like a hot mess—a combination of sweat, alcohol, and, well, him. The allure of a hot shower becomes too tempting to resist.

You peel yourself out of bed and find the bathroom easily enough. It’s a shrine of white marble and fancy fixtures, the kind of bathroom that screams, “I have my life together!” You take a moment to gawk at the luxury before turning on the shower. The sight of separate bottles for shampoo and conditioner catches you off guard—this man clearly knows that 2-in-1 is a sin, even if his choice is Old Spice.

Post-shower, you wrap yourself in the first towel you find, not caring if it was used, and venture back into his room to find something more comfortable. You rummage through his dresser and pull out a soft, worn t-shirt emblazoned with ‘Toronto Maple Leafs’ in bold letters. "Of course," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "A sports bro."

Still, the shirt is cozy, and it smells like laundry detergent with a faint hint of his cologne—pleasantly masculine, and somehow comforting. You pull it over your head, feeling like you’ve just donned a uniform for a team you never asked to join.

The bedroom is surprisingly tidy, with only a few personal touches here and there. A photo on the nightstand catches your eye—mystery man and a bunch of other dudes, all grinning like they’ve just won the lottery. Everyone’s in matching jerseys, which only cements your suspicion that you’ve stumbled into the lair of a hardcore hockey fan.

You wander over to the window and pull back the curtains, and holy hell. The view hits you like a slap to the face. You’re at least thirty-five floors up, and the sprawling cityscape of Toronto unfolds beneath you like a living postcard. You’ve seen this city from above only once before—during that one awkward date at the CN Tower where the guy couldn’t stop talking about crypto.

Stepping over a pair of discarded sneakers, you make your way to the kitchen. The place is as sleek and modern as it gets—high ceilings, massive windows, and a panorama of the city that’s enough to make anyone feel on top of the world. The kitchen is stocked like a health nut’s paradise, with fresh produce that’s clearly more expensive than anything you’d buy on your budget.

The doodle, whose collar reads “Felix,” pads along beside you, tail wagging like he’s known you forever. You can’t help but smile at the little guy as he nudges your hand, begging for attention. You oblige with some ear scratches, mentally piecing together the night before. Bits of the club come back—flashes of lights, music pounding in your chest, and his smile as he approached you, confident but not cocky. Beyond that, though? Total blackout. Well, except for the hickeys he left all over you. Those are pretty memorable.

You open the fridge and see that it’s packed with enough gourmet ingredients to make a Michelin-star chef weep. Feeling oddly domestic, you decide to whip up a frittata—might as well enjoy a good meal while you’re here. The sound of eggs cracking against the bowl echoes in the otherwise quiet kitchen. You start humming to yourself, a random tune you can’t quite place, as you chop onions and bell peppers. Felix sits patiently at your feet, eyes locked on your every move.

The scent of sizzling veggies and freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and for a moment, you almost forget you’re in some stranger’s kitchen. You sprinkle cheese over the frittata, watching it melt into gooey perfection, and slide it onto a plate with a flourish. Not bad, considering you’re technically trespassing.

Just as you’re about to dig in, the door clicks open, and you freeze.

There he is—mystery man in the flesh. His damp hair sticks out from under a backward baseball cap, and there’s a moment of surprise in his eyes when he sees you still there, wearing his shirt, barefoot in his kitchen. Felix, traitor that he is, bounds over to him like he’s just won the lottery.

“Well, good morning,” he says, his voice much steadier now than it was this morning. His eyes flick to the frittata, then back to you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Didn’t expect you to stick around. Smells good.”

You blink, trying to play it cool despite the sudden surge of self-consciousness. “Good morning,” you reply, suddenly aware of how oversized the shirt is on you. You fidget with the hem, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I… I can change if you want. I just—”

“Nah,” he interrupts, shaking his head with that same small smile. “It’s fine. Looks good on you.” He steps further into the room, his gaze lingering on yours, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken. Eventually, he cracks a smile, and of course his teeth are absolutely perfect. “You remember my name?” He teases.

Your brain scrambles like the eggs you’ve just made. His name? You mentally sift through the fog of last night, trying to unearth any trace of a name, but all that comes up is a blank slate. Not even a hint. Just those damn dimples and a very nice smile. Great. You’re in a stranger’s kitchen, in his shirt, cooking like it’s some kind of Sunday morning domestic bliss, and you can’t even remember his name.

Panic starts to bubble up in your chest. Okay, play it cool, you’ve got this. You give him a casual smile, one you hope doesn’t betray the sheer terror of your mental blankness. “Of course I remember,” you lie smoothly, buying yourself time to figure out the rest of this disaster. “How could I forget?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. Damn. His skepticism is written all over his face. The worst part? He doesn’t even seem mad. In fact, he looks more amused than anything else.

You internally curse yourself. Why does he have to be so annoyingly attractive even when he’s being condescending? You rack your brain for a strategy. Okay, think. Just ask him something that forces him to say his name. Maybe pretend like you don’t know how to spell it or something. But before you can settle on a plan, he’s already walking toward you, the smile still tugging at his lips.

“I’ll give you a hint,” he says, leaning against the counter as he grabs a fork, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that’s both unnerving and somehow magnetic. “It starts with an A.”

Your heart nearly skips a beat. Oh, come on. Seriously? You already have one “A” name on the brain that you’ve been doing your best to avoid thinking about, especially given the current situation. As if things weren’t complicated enough.

“A?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady. The last thing you need is to accidentally call him by the wrong name. That would be worse than forgetting it altogether. You take a deep breath, your eyes scanning the room as if the answer might be written on the walls. Alex? Adam? Adrian? None of them feel quite right, and you can’t exactly ask without making things even more awkward.

He’s still watching you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “Yeah, A,” he says, popping a piece of the frittata into his mouth. “But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t remember. I know last night was... well, let’s just say, a lot of fun.”

You catch the teasing glint in his eyes, and it only makes your embarrassment worse. Seriously? You’re in his kitchen, in his clothes, with his dog, and now he’s throwing that kind of look at you? Not fair. But he’s right—last night was fun. Even if you can’t remember every detail, you’re pretty sure the highlights were worth it. The orgasms definitely were.

He’s still watching you, an infuriatingly smug smile on his face. Felix seems to sense your discomfort and nudges your leg, offering silent support—or maybe he just wants more ear scratches. Either way, you reach down to give him a quick pat, grateful for the distraction.

“Okay, fine,” you concede, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’m terrible with names, and last night was… well, let’s just say it was memorable in a way that didn’t include name retention.”

He laughs, and it’s a deep, genuine sound that makes your heart skip a beat. Damn him and his stupidly charming laugh. “Fair enough,” he says, setting the fork down and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m Auston. Not exactly a tricky name to remember.”

Auston. Right. That actually fits him perfectly—a strong, solid name for a guy who looks like he could bench press you without breaking a sweat. You mentally kick yourself for not guessing that. But now that you’ve got his name, you feel a weird mix of relief and embarrassment. Relief because, well, now you can stop fumbling around, and embarrassment because he’s obviously been enjoying watching you squirm.

And… oh no, that’s why he looked familiar.

“Auston,” you repeat, trying to regain some semblance of cool. “Got it. I promise I’ll remember it from now on.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says with a wink, which only makes you feel more flustered. You’re not used to this—being the one who’s off-balance, caught off guard. Usually, you’re the one with the quick comebacks. But here you are, standing in this guy’s kitchen, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt, and suddenly you feel like you’ve lost control of the situation. And you hate it.

You lean against the counter, trying to look like you’re not still reeling from the fact that you spent the night with Auston. As in Auston Matthews, the hockey star whose name you’ve heard a thousand times but never in this particular context. Because, of course, the universe decided that you, who know absolutely nothing about hockey, would end up in the bed of one of its biggest names. And now, you’re standing here in his kitchen, pretending that you’re not about to melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

"Cool," you say, aiming for nonchalance but landing somewhere closer to a faint wheeze. Your mind is scrambling, pulling together the shards of last night while also panicking over how you’re going to extricate yourself from this situation with some dignity intact. Because you? You’re supposed to have it together. This? This is decidedly not together.

Auston raises an eyebrow, clearly still amused. “You cook often?”

Damn it. Now you’ve trapped yourself in a conversation you don’t even want to have. Why does he have to keep talking to you like this? Couldn’t he just leave you to eat in peace? But no, he’s leaning against the counter, looking like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad, and here you are, trying to maintain some semblance of cool while battling the remnants of a hangover.

You take a deep breath, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I cook. But, you know, only when I’m not nursing a headache the size of the CN Tower.” You give him a pointed look, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Auston nods, still smiling in that maddeningly charming way. “I think it’s good. Just make yourself at home—like I said, no rush to leave.”

You nod, muttering a vague “thanks” as you try to focus on your frittata. You’re halfway through a forkful when he speaks up again, completely disrupting your fragile sense of peace.

“So, you’re a hockey fan?”

Of course, you groan inwardly. Of course, he’d bring up hockey. You’re wearing his Maple Leafs shirt, after all. It’s practically an invitation for him to start grilling you about your favorite players and whatnot. And the last thing you want right now is to discuss sports, especially with a guy who plays and clearly has his life way more together than you do at this moment.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you reply, trying to keep it casual. You decide to leave out the part where you haven’t watched a game in about seven years, and your main association with hockey is… well, complicated. No need to drag your emotional baggage into this kitchen.

Auston’s eyes light up at your response, which only makes you feel more trapped. “Oh yeah? Who’s your favorite player?”

Abort, abort! This is a trap! Your mind screams at you. There’s no way out of this conversation that doesn’t end with you looking like an idiot, and you know it. But you also know that if you try to dodge the question, he’ll probably see right through it. He probably wants you to say his name, after all.

So you take a deep breath and go for the safest answer you can think of. “Oh, you know… I’m more of a team fan than a specific player fan.”

Nice save, you think to yourself, congratulating your brain for once.

But then, he grills you further. “Leafs?”

You can’t exactly tell him the truth, which is that your entire knowledge of the Leafs consists of whatever you picked up from your dad yelling at the TV during playoffs. Admitting you’re not a die-hard fan would feel like a betrayal of the shirt currently hanging off your shoulders, not to mention the fact that Auston probably expects you to know, well, him.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, your voice an octave higher than usual. Play it cool, play it cool. “Big fan. Love the Leafs.”

He nods, clearly satisfied, and for a brief moment, you think you might have dodged a bullet. But then he hits you with the follow-up. “Nice! Who’s your favorite player? Other than me, of course.” He smirks, clearly enjoying himself.

Of course he’d say that. You can’t tell if it’s charming or a little bit insufferable that he’s so confident. Either way, you’re trapped. There’s no way out of this conversation without revealing the gaping hole in your hockey knowledge. Your mind races as you try to come up with a name that won’t make you look like a total fraud.

“Uh, well,” you start, stalling for time. Just pick one, any name—just not a goalie. Or someone retired. Please, brain, I’m begging you.

Your internal Rolodex of hockey players, which you didn’t even know existed, spins furiously. You blurt out the first name that pops up, hoping for the best. “Nylander! William… Nylander. Love that guy.”

Your brain screeches to a halt as soon as the name leaves your mouth. Nylander? Really? Of all the names you could have picked, you went with the one guy on the team who has the kind of perfect hair that screams, “I have a daily five-step hair care routine.” This is a guy who, if he wasn’t playing hockey, would probably be modeling for some high-end Scandinavian fashion brand. And now, you’re committed.

Auston’s smirk widens, and you can tell he’s loving every second of this. “Nylander, huh?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Solid choice. Slick hands, good speed, and the guy’s got style. You got a thing for blondes, or is it just the way he plays?”

Oh, come on! You didn’t need this. Not now. Your face flushes, and you scramble to respond, praying that the ground will open up and swallow you whole. “If I had a thing for blondes, we wouldn’t have fucked last night.” You blurt out.

Auston was mid-chew, and the sharp inhale from your sudden statement caused him to choke on his food ever so slightly. Your eyes widen, and you immediately hit his back, “Fuck, you okay?” You question.

You slap Auston’s back a little harder than necessary, half out of panic and half out of sheer embarrassment. His shoulders jolt forward as he coughs, trying to recover from the food-turned-projectile incident you just caused. Great. As if your morning could get any more mortifying, now you’ve nearly killed a professional athlete in his own kitchen.

“Sorry!” you squeak, retracting your hand as if his skin had suddenly turned red-hot. You’re positive your face is as crimson as the tomato you just diced for that frittata. Auston waves off your apology, his face still slightly red, though now it’s more from laughing than choking.

“Wow,” he says, his voice still raspy but amused. “That’s one way to answer a question.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a grin spreading across his face. “You know, you could’ve just said you liked his slapshot or something.”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off the embarrassment with crossing your arms defensively, but your heart is still pounding in your chest. “Well what do the other girls say?” You snap at him.

Auston’s eyes widen slightly, clearly caught off guard by your question. For a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, maybe? Amusement? You’re not sure, but whatever it is, it quickly disappears behind that infuriatingly confident smile of his.

“Well, believe it or not,” he begins, clearly enjoying himself a little too much, “I don’t really bring girls home all that often. You’re probably the first one in like, I dunno, a year and a half?”

Your arms are still crossed, but now you’re raising an eyebrow, trying to process what he just said. “A year and a half? You expect me to believe that?”

Auston shrugs, leaning back against the counter as if you’re discussing the weather and not his sex life. “I’m serious,” he says, and his face is earnest, though there’s still that infuriating smirk lingering at the edges. “I’m a busy guy. Hockey season, training, traveling… it doesn’t leave a lot of time for this.” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, and you feel your face heat up again.

You narrow your eyes, trying to gauge if he’s messing with you. Because come on. A guy like him? Good-looking, rich, famous? He’s probably got girls throwing themselves at him on the regular, and you’re supposed to believe he’s been celibate for eighteen months? But he doesn’t seem to be lying, and that makes you even more uncomfortable. Why would he say something like that unless he meant it?

“Okay, sure,” you say, trying to sound like you totally buy his story. “So, what made you break the streak for little old me?”

You’re aiming for sarcastic, but there’s a hint of genuine curiosity there too. Because seriously, why you? You’re not exactly someone who gets tangled up with pro athletes. You’re not even sure how you got here, in his kitchen, trying to play it cool while your brain is still catching up with the fact that you’ve spent the night with Auston Matthews. It feels like some bizarre fever dream, one that you’re not entirely sure you’re ready to wake up from.

Auston’s smirk softens into something a little more thoughtful, and he takes a moment before answering. “You were… different,” he says finally, and his tone is surprisingly sincere. “At the club, I mean. You weren’t like everyone else. I don’t know, it was refreshing. You didn’t care who I was; you just seemed like you were having fun.”

You blink, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. Different? Refreshing? You’d spent most of the night trying not to think about work, trying to forget all the stress piling up in your life, and apparently, that had made you stand out in a sea of people who were probably all vying for his attention. You’re not sure whether to be flattered or embarrassed.

“Uh, thanks?” you say, the words coming out more like a question. You’re still not sure what to make of this whole situation. The conversation feels too real, too serious, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for that. You’d much rather keep things light and easy, like the frittata you’re desperately trying to finish before you lose your appetite from all this emotional whiplash.

He chuckles, sensing your discomfort, and the tension between you eases just a bit. “I’m just saying, it was nice. You’re nice.”

You give him a skeptical look. “Nice? You picked me up because I was nice? I thought guys like you went for, I don’t know, Instagram models or something.”

Auston laughs again, and it’s a genuine, warm sound that might be starting to get a little addictive. “Trust me, I’ve had enough of those,” he says, shaking his head. “They’re great for the public, but not so much for anything else. Most of them lack personality, it seems.”

Your mind is racing, trying to figure out where this conversation is headed and how the hell you’re supposed to navigate it. Did Auston Matthews just compliment you? And not in the generic, “You’re hot” kind of way but in a way that implies he actually noticed something about you beyond the surface? This is not how you expected your morning to go.

“Personality, huh?” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “So what, you’re saying I’m butt ugly and you just picked me because I wasn’t falling all over myself for you?”

On one hand, it’s kind of sweet that he’s noticed something beyond your looks (even if you’re still not entirely convinced that’s true). On the other hand… well, what does that say about your looks? It’s not like you have an inferiority complex or anything, but “different” isn’t exactly the adjective you’d use when dreaming about some star athlete sweeping you off your feet.

Auston seems to catch onto the shift in your mood because he leans in, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Okay, first of all, no one said anything about you being ugly,” he says, his voice a mix of teasing and reassurance. “And second, yes, I do like that you don’t kiss my ass.”

You bite your lip, feeling a little bit of that earlier bravado slipping away. “Yeah, but you implied it,” you mumble, crossing your arms again in a way that you hope comes off as nonchalant but probably just looks defensive.

He laughs, that warm, addictive sound filling the kitchen again. “Alright, fine, I’ll clarify. You’re not ugly. In fact, you’re pretty damn gorgeous, if you want my honest opinion. But what I meant was that you’ve got personality, too. You didn’t spend the whole night telling me how amazing I am, and that was a nice change.”

Your brain screeches to a halt again. Did he just… did he actually just call you gorgeous? And then follow it up by saying that you have personality? You’re not sure if you’re being flattered or subtly roasted, but either way, it’s throwing you for a loop.

“Interesting,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady even though you’re failing miserably, “So… what did I spend all night doing?” You end up squeaking out, genuinely curious because he probably remembers more than you.

You try to maintain your composure, but the combination of his proximity, that smirk, and the insinuation in his words has your mind spinning in a million different directions. Did you do something particularly embarrassing last night? Or worse, did you do something particularly memorable?

Auston smirks, leaning in slightly as if he’s about to let you in on some grand secret. His voice drops to a low, teasing murmur. “Before or after you begged me to bring you home with me?”

Begged him to bring you home? Really? Your brain feels like it’s running at double speed trying to recall any semblance of that night. All you remember is a whirlwind of cocktails and dancing, but nothing quite as explicit as Auston is suggesting.

“Well,” you start, your voice coming out a bit shaky, “I’m sure I wasn’t that bad.”

Auston chuckles, shaking his head with that infuriatingly handsome smirk. “Oh, trust me, you were memorable.” He leans back against the counter, looking like he’s about to settle in for a good story. “You spent a good part of the night dancing up against me, and then said if I took you home you’d ’rock my world.’”

Your brain screeches to a halt again. “I said that?” you ask, trying to mask your horror with a shaky laugh.

Auston nods, his grin widening. “Oh yeah. And when I did bring you here, you kept talking about how much you loved my beard, and how you wanted to know how it would feel against your—“

You cut him off, your face feeling like it's on fire. “Okay, okay! I get it. Let’s just… maybe not relive every detail of that night. My ego might not survive it.”

Auston laughs, a deep, infectious sound that seems to reverberate through the kitchen. “Fair enough. You definitely enjoyed it, though. And for what it’s worth, I had fun too.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, did you actually…“

Auston’s grin becomes more mischievous as he leans closer. “Mm-mhm,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “You seriously don’t remember? I had to hold you down because you couldn’t stay still. And when we got to the main event, I had to convince you that a condom was indeed important.”

Your brain feels like it's short-circuiting as Auston’s words sink in. Hold you down? Couldn’t stay still? A condom discussion? Scratch thanking yourself for being responsible, you’ve gotta thank him. Your cheeks are burning, and you can’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or dig a hole in the kitchen floor and crawl into it. You knew you’d had a wild night, but this? This was a level of embarrassment you hadn’t even considered.

You’re trying to play it cool, but the way Auston’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he watches you squirm isn’t helping. He’s enjoying this way too much, and part of you wants to wipe that grin off his face… but the other part, the part that’s still processing the fact that you were the one who dragged him into bed, is kind of curious.

“So… what else did I say?” you manage to ask, your voice trembling just a bit, though you try to pass it off as nonchalant. You’re aiming for casual curiosity, but it’s coming out more like desperate need-to-know.

Auston raises an eyebrow, that damn smirk still plastered across his face. “Oh, you really wanna go there?” he teases, leaning in closer. His voice drops again, taking on that low, husky tone that you’re starting to realize could be very dangerous for your sanity. “Because I’m telling you, it wasn’t exactly PG-rated.”

Your stomach flips, both from the implications and from the way his breath brushes against your skin. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when the mental image of whatever the hell you said or did last night keeps flashing in your mind like a neon sign. You take a deep breath, mentally bracing yourself for whatever steamy details are about to spill from his lips.

“Alright, lay it on me,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel. “I’ve come this far, might as well hear the rest.”

Auston chuckles, clearly enjoying the fact that you’re squirming. “Okay, so after the whole beard thing—” he starts, and you wince, because of course, he wasn’t going to let that one go, “—you pretty much made it your mission to see if you could make me lose control.”

You blink, your mind stuttering over his words. “What? How?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the counter with a grin. “Let’s just say you have a very persuasive mouth.”

Your jaw drops, your brain reeling. Did he just—? Is he saying you—?

“Wait,” you stammer, your voice rising a few octaves. “I did what?”

Auston just grins, relishing your reaction. “You were very determined,” he says, his tone playful but with an edge that makes your stomach flip again. “And let’s just say, I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

You can feel your face burning, your mind scrambling to catch up. You want to deny it, to say that there’s no way you’d ever do something so bold, so out of character… but then again, you did wake up in his bed, so clearly, last night wasn’t exactly a typical night for you.

Your heart is racing, your thoughts a tangled mess of embarrassment, curiosity, and—if you’re honest with yourself—maybe just a little bit of pride. Because, okay, if you did all that, and he’s not running for the hills… maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think?

Or maybe it was, and he’s just too polite to say so.

“Okay, but what happened after?” you ask, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intended. “Because there’s no way I was coherent enough to, you know, actually… follow through with all of that.”

Auston’s grin widens, and he steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. “Oh, you followed through,” he says, his voice low and dripping with implication. “And then some.”

Your breath catches, a mix of anticipation and anxiety curling in your chest. “And then some?” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah. After the, uh, persuasive mouth routine, you decided to test just how good my endurance was.”

You swallow hard, your mind spinning with the possibilities of what that could mean. “And?” you ask, not sure if you really want to know but unable to stop yourself from asking anyway.

Auston chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. “And let’s just say, I passed with flying colors. You, on the other hand, needed a little extra… assistance.”

Your eyes widen, and a thousand thoughts race through your head all at once. Extra assistance? What the hell does that even mean? You open your mouth to ask, but Auston beats you to it, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers the next part.

“You couldn’t stay still,” he murmurs, his voice sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “So I had to hold you down. You loved every second of it, too. Begged for more.”

Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it, and you can feel your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something else—something that makes your skin tingle and your pulse race. Did you really do that? Did you actually beg Auston Matthews, star athlete and professional heartthrob, to hold you down and… and…?

Before you can fully process that thought, Auston pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression softening just a bit. “Honestly, you were incredible,” he says, his voice sincere now, without any of the teasing edge it had before. “It wasn’t just about the sex. It was… you. You were present. Raw. Real.”

Incredible? Raw? Real? The words are reverberating in your mind, crashing against the mental walls you've built to keep your self-esteem from plummeting into the abyss of "Why did I say that?" and "How did I do that?" You're oscillating between sheer terror and a weird sort of pride, as you try to reconcile the version of yourself Auston’s describing with the version of you that prefers to binge-watch Netflix on Friday nights rather than seduce professional athletes with—what was it? Oh, right. Your “persuasive mouth.”

Incredible, though? Okay, you can work with that. Let’s not focus on the “holding you down” part because that’s a whole can of worms you’re not ready to open just yet. Your mind flits between horror and a sort of bemused acceptance that, yes, you apparently did beg for… more. What kind of ‘more’ are we talking about here? Maybe, just maybe, you’re the kind of person who, when sufficiently drunk and caught in the orbit of a hockey god, turns into some kind of sex goddess with a penchant for… what exactly? Testing endurance? Needing to be restrained? You’re not sure if you should be embarrassed or if you should just own this.

“So, let me get this straight,” you start, your voice shaking slightly, but you soldier on because if you’re going to crash and burn, you might as well do it spectacularly. “I was not only wild enough to require to be pinned down, but I also made a good impression?”

Auston’s grin widens at your question, a slow, mischievous smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Oh, you made more than a good impression,” he says, his voice dripping with that same mix of teasing and sincerity that’s been throwing you off balance all morning. “In fact, you’ve pretty much ruined me for anyone else. I don’t think I’ll ever look at another woman without wondering if she’s got half the fire you do.”

Your brain is officially short-circuiting. Ruined him? For anyone else? Is he serious, or is this just another layer of his expertly crafted charm offensive?

Auston, however, still seems to be thoroughly enjoying your inner turmoil. "Look, I get it. You're trying to piece together a wild night that seems a bit... out of character," he says, leaning back against the counter, still smirking that infuriatingly charming smirk. "But believe me, that’s not all I care about. I want to actually get to know you, if you’ll let me.”

Getting to know you? Seriously? You can’t help but replay the absurdity of the night in your head. You’ve just discovered that you have an unrecognized talent for aggressive persuasion and that you’ve apparently made such an impression that Auston Matthews—and his stupidly fitting moustache—wants to spend more time with you.

You try to keep your composure, but your brain’s still scrambling. “Oh, sure. Get to know me,” you say, your voice a tad too high-pitched for comfort. “Because nothing says ‘relationship material’ like getting tipsy, hitting on you, and then sucking you off the first moment I could.”

Auston’s chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh, the kind that makes your cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson. The sound is surprisingly comforting, as if he's not just laughing at your expense but with you, which is oddly reassuring. You shift on your feet, trying to hide the fact that you’re still trying to process the avalanche of mortification and awkwardness that just buried you.

“Yeah, you’re really selling yourself short there,” He says, plainly, “If I only wanted that, I could’ve just stayed at the bar and picked someone who didn’t talk so much. But guess what?” He continues, taking a step closer and tilting your chin up with his finger so you’re looking right at him, “I didn’t. And you talk a lot, but so do I. That’s kind of perfect, no?”

You bite your lip, feeling a strange mix of flattery and disbelief. “I don’t know what to say,” you admit, not sure if you’re ready to dive headfirst into whatever this is—or could be.

Auston’s smile softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that sends a small jolt of warmth through you. “You don’t have to make any big decisions right now,” he says softly. “Just… think about it.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his touch, makes you feel a little breathless. Maybe, just maybe, there’s more to this guy than just a famous name and a pretty face. And maybe, there’s more to this situation than just a one-night stand gone right or wrong.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Okay,” you finally say as a smile betrays your straight-faced expression. “I’ll think about it.”

Auston’s smile widens, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and letting out a chuckle. “Score. By the way, do you actually think Nylander is cute?”

#toronto maple leafs #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl x reader #auston matthews #auston matthews fic #am34 #am34 fic #am34 x reader #Auston Matthews x reader #Spotify

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fallenclan · 14 days

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SUNNYCOTTON!!!!! a win for the lesbians <3

i'm trying to implement more traditions and culture for Fallenclan, so behold!! giving someone a cool bug as an old-fashioned way of asking to be mates :D

First Prev Next

#the bug is supposed to be a cottonwood leaf beetle. btw <3 #blood tw #child abuse tw #clangen #clan generator #art #fallenart #safari #snowpaw #patchback #cottonleaf #sunnytuft #imagining sagespeckle going like 'listen. sooner or later sunnytuft is going to give you a bug ok. it means shes in gay love with you.'#'trust me on this'

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kashmimo · 6 months

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Alola Grlf doodles

#Rival blue #Trainer leaf #Green oak #Blue oak #Rival green #Pokemon #conflictingshipping #Pokemon sm #Pokemon frlg #Kashart #I'll make a full-bodied ref for leaf too #When I reread faffy's smutfic this is the design I imagine them to be in ♪ヽ(´▽｀)/

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

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500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

"If you cross her, then you cross me” I Matthew Knies☆

Requested: yes/no

Summary: After weeks apart, Matthew Knies finally sees his girlfriend again, his heart racing with anticipation. Yet, the sight of bruises on her arm brings a sharp reminder of why he hates being away from her.

Tropes & warnings: Matthew Knies x reader, established relationship, boyfriend!Kniesy, protective!Kniesy, no real harm (bruise), Smut 18+; Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes: So, we're at the final stop of our Followers Festival, and I can’t express enough how grateful I am for your input! Writing like this is always so much fun and thrilling, as it's pushing me to explore new challenges 🤗 Thank you so much for joining my little celebration and for reading my work ❤️ Lots of love!

Word count: 2.9K

➼｡ﾟ

You and your boyfriend, Matthew Knies, had been apart for far too long.

Almost a year ago, your life had taken an unexpected yet wonderful turn, where it all started on a crisp autumn evening when you decided to attend a charity event organised by your company. You hadn’t particularly been enthusiastic about going, but it was for a good cause, and as the newest (and youngest) hire, you felt obliged to make an appearance.

The venue was a beautiful old mansion converted into an event space, filled with elegantly dressed guests, soft music, and the hum of polite conversation. And almost lost in your own thoughts, you casually wandered around, occasionally mingling with colleagues and sampling the delicious hors d'oeuvres, when you suddenly spotted a tall, handsome man across the room. He had a relaxed confidence about him, and you couldn't help but notice the way he smiled as he chatted with a group of people.

Then feeling the need to hold onto something for comfort, you made your way over to the refreshment table near where he stood. And as luck would have it, you both reached for the same glass of champagne at the same time, where the tall man simply laughed, a warm, genuine sound, and motioned for you to take it.

“Looks like we have the same taste,” he said with a grin.

You smiled back, feeling a spark of something you couldn’t quite identify. “I guess we do.”

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he introduced casually, extending his hand.

“I'm y/n,” you replied softly, shaking his hand in a polite and friendly manner. His grip was firm yet reassuring, and you found yourself immediately at ease.

And from that small moment, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You discovered that Matthew was a professional hockey player, currently enjoying some downtime before the new season began. He was charming and down-to-earth, with a passion for the sport that was infectious. You shared stories about your jobs, your interests, and your families, finding common ground in unexpected places.

So, as the evening progressed, you both found yourselves gravitating towards each other, enjoying the easy banter and undeniable chemistry. When the event then started to wind down, Matthew hesitated for a moment before asking if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime.

“I'd love that,” you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement.

And so, your relationship began. The first coffee date turned into a series of outings—dinners, walks in the park, movie nights—each one bringing you closer together. Matthew’s schedule was hectic, but he always made time for you, and you quickly found yourself falling for him faster than you had ever thought possible.

By the time you reached the six-month mark, you knew this was something truly special. Despite the challenges of his demanding career and your own busy life, the bond you shared only grew stronger. The time apart was hard, but it made the moments together even more precious.

The off-season brought you nothing but more joy and excitement into your life. Matthew had invited you to spend a few weeks in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, where you were introduced to everyone.

And those weeks in Phoenix were nothing but magical, filled with warm, sun-soaked days and cool, starry nights. You visited his favourite childhood spots, hiked the stunning desert trails, and shared countless meals with his family, where his parents welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

Matthew took you to some of his favourite local hangouts, where you met his old friends who regaled you with stories of their younger days. And you could easily see the deep bonds he had with them, which made you feel even closer to him. The evenings were your favourite, spent on the porch of his family’s home, sipping cold drinks and watching the spectacular Arizona sunsets.

Those quiet moments, where you could simply enjoy each other's company without any interruptions, were what you cherished the most.

But as wonderful as those weeks had been, reality eventually intruded, and you were called back to return to work. Matthew stayed back as he was busy with off-season training, his days then filled with rigorous workouts and team meetings, while your own days were consumed by the demands of your job.

Though you both tried to keep in touch with nightly video calls and sweet text messages throughout the day, it was never quite the same as being together. The screen could never capture the warmth of his touch or the comfort of his presence.

The nights were lonely, and the days felt endless without him. The ache of missing him settled deep in your chest, a constant reminder of the distance between you. You threw yourself into work, trying to fill the void, but it was a poor substitute for the man you loved. Weekends were the hardest. You'd find yourself aimlessly wandering the apartment, lingering over the photos of the two of you scattered around, each one a painful reminder of what you were missing.

And sensing your melancholy, your friends decided to cheer you up. So, they dragged you out one night, determined to lift your spirits. They took you to a lively bar downtown, where the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the sound of loud, pulsing music. And for a while, it worked. The drinks flowed, laughter came easily, and the music helped drown out your thoughts as you danced with your girlfriends, trying to forget how much you missed Matthew.

But then, amid the flashing lights and the thumping bass, a man approached you. At first, he seemed harmless, just another person looking to have a good time. But as the night wore on, his behaviour became more insistent. He moved closer, invading your personal space, and his touch lingered on your arm longer than was comfortable. You tried to signal politely but firmly that you weren’t interested, yet he didn’t seem to take the hint. At one point, his grip even tightened around your wrist, and though you managed to pull away, the encounter left you shaken.

Nothing overtly dangerous happened, but his touch left you feeling unsettled. You felt a surge of anger and frustration, not just at the man who had crossed the line, but at the circumstances that had left you vulnerable and alone. You wished Matthew had been there, his presence a shield against the world.

Fortunately, only two days later, you stood at the airport, your heart pounding with anticipation. The noise of the bustling crowd, the rolling of suitcases, and the constant announcements over the intercom all faded into the background as you anxiously scanned the throngs of people for a familiar face. Every second felt like an eternity. But then, through the sea of strangers, you finally spotted him. Matthew’s tall frame and broad shoulders were unmistakable.

Your heart leapt as your eyes met his, and you saw his face break into a wide grin that mirrored your own. And without a moment's hesitation, you dashed towards him, your feet barely touching the ground. When you reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. And effortlessly, he lifted you slightly off the ground as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear, his voice rough with emotion.

“Missed you too,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest. The relief of being in his embrace after so long was overwhelming, washing over you in waves. You could feel the tension of the past weeks melt away as you clung to him, savouring the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady beat of his heart.

So, with no intention of wasting a single moment, you grabbed his hand and headed straight for the car. The drive to your shared apartment was filled with stolen glances and soft touches, the air between you crackling with anticipation. And by the time you reached your place, the need to be close to each other was almost too much to bear.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Matthew’s lips were already on yours, the urgency of your reunion clear in every kiss. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if to make up for the lost time. Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled with his jacket, eager to feel his skin against yours. You barely made it to the living room before clothes began to come off, a trail of discarded garments marking your path to the bedroom.

And once in the bedroom, Matthew’s hands explored your body, rediscovering every curve he had missed. His touch was both tender and demanding, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. The kisses grew more passionate as he explored your skin, each touch igniting a fire within you.

He knew your body like a map he’d charted himself, but his touch faltered when he encountered a mark on your arm—a bruise that hadn’t been there before. So, he pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the bruise.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was rough, filled with concern and barely-contained anger. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, his protective instincts flaring up.

“It’s nothing, Matts,” you said, trying to downplay it. “Just some guy at a bar… it’s not a big deal.”

“No, this is something!” His eyes were fierce, the protective side of him coming to the fore. “A guy touched you? And bruised you?”

“It looks worse than it was…” you began, but he cut you off with a gentle but firm grip on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

Matthew’s face softened slightly, but the anger in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “I don’t like thinking about someone else touching you.”

You sighed, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “I’m alright. I’m here with you now. That’s what matters.”

His gaze remained intense, but then he leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a deep, passionate kiss that stole every bit of air from your lungs. His hands were rough yet tender, conveying the love and longing that had built up over the past weeks. And the kiss was an attempt to claim you, to remind you of his presence and devotion, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions in every movement—how his lips pressed against yours, how his hands held you close. It was as if he was pouring all the missed moments and unspoken words into that one kiss.

And then, Matthew’s focus shifted to ensuring your pleasure, his touch expert and attentive. He started by exploring your body with his mouth, trailing kisses down your jawline and along the valley of your breasts. He lingered briefly at each nipple before continuing downward, moving past your belly button to your core.

Light moans escaped you as he settled between your legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs. He then kissed around your needy centre, his touch both deliberate and tender.

“Please, Matts. I need you,” you whimpered softly, your hand finding his brown locks, as if to pull him closer.

But Matthew just smirked against your skin, tightening his grip before he finally indulged in the craving he’d been holding back. Skillfully, he licked up your folds, drawing moans from you—sweet music to his ears as he savoured your tasty honey.

“Oh yes,” you breathed out, your head sinking deeper into the pillow below you, your fingers gripping his hair. “Mmm, more…”

And your plea was his command. He licked you several times, making sure to explore all of your sensitive areas, before focusing on your sensitive clit. Sucking and nipping, he wasted no time in drawing louder moans from you. And as he sensed your light squirming under his touch, feeling the power he held over you, he worked his skilled mouth with determination.

“Mmm, taste so fucking delicious, baby,” he hummed huskily into your core as he ate you out you like a starved man getting his first meal in months.

“Fuck,” you cried softly as you felt the arousal build within you, a familiar wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You were approaching your climax, and the ecstasy intensified as Matthew continued to suck on your sensitive bead of nerves, making you shut your eyes tightly. And when he then added his long fingers into the mix, it didn’t take long before his skilled tongue pushed you to your first orgasm.

“I’m gonna cu—Matts, I’m coming!”

The sensation was intense, a welcome relief from the tension of your separation.

And as Matthew looked up from between your legs, urging you to meet his gaze, a satisfied smirk played on his lips. “It’s good to be home.”

You couldn’t suppress a smile either, the rush of your orgasm still lingering as he gently moved to hover over you. Feeling the need to shift positions, you then signalled for him to lie on his back.

And Matthew naturally obliged. He always enjoyed when you tried to take charge—emphasis on *trying*, as you both knew that even when you were on top, he was still the one truly in control.

Yet, as you positioned yourself on top of him, you led with fervour and passion. His length was larger than any man you’d experienced before, but whenever he was inside you, it felt like your bodies melded perfectly together. You rolled your hips smoothly, his hands guiding you gently, as your palms pressed firmly on his muscular chest, giving you support to increase your pace at his unspoken command. Then with his thumb pressing insistently against your sensitive clit, Matthew helped you reach another peak. Arching your back and clenching around him, you let his name slip from your lips in a deep moan.

It was a blissful moment as you reached your second orgasm. However, as the rhythm of your movements built, Matthew’s own desire surged. So, with a swift motion, he turned you around into missionary, where he effortlessly took control and began pounding into you with primal intensity. His movements were relentless, driven by his need for release.

It had been too long. Too long since he had felt himself inside you, too long since he’d climaxed under your touch.

His breathing was erratic, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the echo of skin slapping against skin throughout the room. Your nails dug into the back of his shoulders, and the force of his thrusts pushed both of you to the brink, each touch and movement designed to make the experience as overwhelming and fulfilling as possible.

“Fuck baby…. Oh yes,” he groaned deeply as he spilled his release into you, gasping for air. Matthew knew he finished sooner than he’d usually do, but given the time apart, it was no surprise to either of you.

Besides, you were already satisfied with your own rather quick orgasms he’d caused you.

You both panted deeply, surprised by how intense and satisfying the reunion felt, more so than you had anticipated. And as you lay tangled in the sheets, the aftermath of your intimacy left both of you spent but content. Yet, you could sense something lingering in Matthew’s demeanour—a worry that hadn’t quite been erased.

“What’s wrong, my love?” you asked softly, tuning slightly to face your incredibly handsome boyfriend, with his Arizona tan.

But Matthew just brushed a strand of hair from your face, his voice tender and sincere. “I just don’t like thinking of someone else touching you.”

“Then don’t think about it,” you replied, resting a hand on his chest. “Nothing happened. I’m here with you now.”

“But still… if someone crosses you, they also cross me,” he said, his tone resolute and protective. “And I’m not going to let it go. If I knew who it was, I’d…”

“You’d what? Risk your career by punching a stranger in the face?” you chuckled lightly with a cocked brow.

“No,” Matthew breathed out softly. “I just wanted to make them pay for doing anything like this to you…”

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, touched by his fierce loyalty. “You’re wonderful, Matts. But I can take care of myself when you’re not here. You don’t need to go around and punch people for me.”

“I know you can,” he said, gently pulling you even closer. “I just… I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. And… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not now, not ever.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, reassuring him.

Matthew’s arms tightened around you, a final, tender embrace as the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber. In that moment, all the fears and uncertainties of the past few weeks faded away, leaving only the certainty of your love for each other.

Well, Matthew, of course, couldn’t let it go completely. So, he interrogated your friends, pressing them for any information about who might have done this to you, earning light chuckles from all of you. However, as weeks passed, the bruises fading, and the hockey season began, the incident faded into the background.

#500 followers festival #mk23 #matthew knies imagine #matthew knies smut #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey smut #nhl imagine

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nhlclover · 7 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐒

word count: 1.02k

summary: you and matthew get into an argument, testing the strength of your relationship.

warnings: angst, arguing

notes: finally getting around to old requests…

The air in your apartment was thick and heavy, tension hanging in the air like an oppressive fog. Each breath felt like a burden. A simple disagreement that started an hour ago now had you and Matthew caught in a heated argument, ensnared in a tangled web of emotions that refused to dissipate.

The fiery argument was fueled by the pent-up frustrations and grievances the pair of you held. You took turns shooting your words across the room, each sentiment increasingly more bitter than the last. Each accusation is aimed at the heart, both of you letting your anger get the best of the situation and just wanting to cause pain. It was a standoff with neither of you wanting to concede.

As the argument reached its crescendo, a sense of fragility now hung in the air. You sighed, exasperated. Your cheeks stained with tears and your lungs tight with anxiety.

“I can’t argue anymore, Matt.” You say softly.

You were curled up on the couch, knees pulled into your chest, while Matthew stood at a considerable distance across the room. He leaned on the island, the granite was cool against the clammy skin of his palms. The sound of you sniffling softly caused a crack to go through his chest.

“I…” You breathed, your voice trailing off. You struggled to find the right words to convey the turmoil churning in your stomach. “I think I need some space.”

He looked up at you, your frame squeezed into a tight ball. “What does that mean, y/n?” Matthew asks.

His face was so delicate like your next words could shatter him if you weren’t too careful. “I mean I think I need to some space for a bit. Just to sort through my thoughts.”

Matthew pushes off the counter, heading to the front hall. You spring up from the couch, following him. In the foyer, Matt shoves his feet into a pair of sneakers, yanking his coat off the rack.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he grabs his car keys of the key rack.

“Giving you space.” He replies.

The door slams behind him as he heads for the parking garage. Getting in his car, he had no destination in mind. He let his internal GPS take him wherever. Soon enough, he was pulling into the driveway of a familiar home. Matthew parked his car in the driveway, the engine clicking as it cooled down. He sat for a moment, staring blankly through the windshield before getting out and going to the front door.

Upon opening the door, John was met with a sad shell of his teammate. He opened the door wider, allowing Matthew to enter. He followed John into the familiar living room, sinking onto the couch. John’s gaze was fixed on Matthew.

“What’s on your mind, kid?” He asked.

With a sigh, Matthew poured out his heart, retelling the last few days in which the tensions rose between the two of you, before finally boiling over into the argument from this morning. John listened intently, offering some words of wisdom once Matthew was finished.

“Sounds like it’s been a rough couple of days for you guys,” John said, Matthew nodding in agreement. “But disagreements are just opportunities for growth. You know how the two of you navigate these rough patches are just going to make you guys stronger.”

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What if we don’t figure it out though?” Matthew asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

John couldn’t help but chuckle softly, recognizing the anxiety of going through an argument in a young relationship.

“It might not be easy, but you’ll get there. You’ve got to be patient with each other, try and see her point of view. Remember you’re a team. You’re in this together.” John said.

A sense of clarity washed over Matthew, John’s words aiding Matthew in navigating this. John’s sage advice was born from years of experience and Matthew took comfort in knowing that John knew what he was talking about.

Before long, the familiar sound of boisterous laughter and shrieks filled the home. John’s kids enter the room, having just returned from school. Matthew found himself drawn into their world, the simple joy of their company offering a welcome distraction.

As the evening wore on, Matthew lost track of time, the hours slipping away as he played hide and seek with the Tavares children, as well as being invited to stay for dinner.

Back at your apartment, you were still sitting on the sofa, nerves wracking your body. Matthew hadn't called or texted. You believed he was safe, that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. But your heart was still in your stomach as you watched the time tick by.

When you heard the front door clicking open, you sprang up from the couch, meeting your boyfriend in the front hall where he was removing his shoes.

“Where were you?” You ask, your voice a little louder than you intended. “You didn’t call, you didn’t text…Nothing! I was so worried Matt!”

You launched into a tirade, your words sharp with frustration as you spewed out every single anxious thought you’d imagined since he left. Matthew let you vent your frustrations, upset with the fact that he had been gone for the last 6 hours. When you finally fell silent, Matthew spoke.

“I’m fine.” He said softly. “I just went somewhere to clear my head.”

You fell quiet, not quite knowing what to say next. The pair of you stood there, looking at one another as the tension slowly seemed to dissipate.

“I’m sorry…” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay, y/n.” He reassured, stepping towards you. “We both needed time to breathe.”

There’s another beat of silence before you speak again. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. And for what I said, I’m sorry Matt.”

“Me too. We both said things we shouldn’t have.” Matthew replies. Matthew reaches out, taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry.”

His touch sends a wave of warmth through you, You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. The words of John from earlier reverberate in Matthew’s mind. You guys were a team and you were in this together. It was going to take a whole lot more than an argument to separate the two of you.

#matthew knies #matthew knies imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #toronto maple leafs #matthew knies x reader

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chukys-mouthguard · 1 month

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aperol spritz

5.3k words | not proofread

featuring: william nylander x female reader

warnings: sexually explicit content, minors DNI, 18+; choking, spanking, hair pulling, daddy kink, marking, overstimulation, slight degradation, squirting, p in v, oral (female and male receiving) - aka LOTS of smut!

summary: after a shitty breakup your friends take you on a girls trip where they’re desperately trying to help you find a vacay fling, and william just might be the man for the job

note: i have no clue how this ended up where it did, but i hope you enjoy 🙈

You swirled your finger around the rim of your glass, listening intently to your friend as she told you about the interaction she’d just had with some guy at the bar. The music blasting throughout the small club as you’d downed about seven drinks at this point. A good buzz going through your body as you watched the crowd, the dance floor a bit too packed for your liking. Preferring to people watch as you sipped your drinks.

It was night four of your girls trip to Ibiza, and you’d yet to find a nice vacation fling like you’d hoped. Your friends were trying to get your mind off a harsh breakup with the spontaneous trip, and one of their goals to put it plainly was for you to get laid. While you weren’t desperate, something about the idea of meeting a stranger and having one or two amazing nights with them, then never having to cross paths or worry about seeing them again was intriguing.

Your friends noticed you eyeing the crowd, giggling to themselves at how you were trying not to be obvious about wanting to find yourself some eye candy.

“Y/n, at this point if he’s got all his teeth and buys you a drink, I say go for it.”

Shaking your head you rolled your eyes, tossing back the rest of your drink. Not having noticed the blue eyes that had been stuck on you for the last twenty minutes.

A blonde haired man sitting at the end of the bar sipping his drink as he watched you and your friends. Seeing the way you eyed the crowd, as if looking for someone. But only ending up discouraged as you hadn’t found what you were looking for.

“Sorry to say girls, I have a bit more I require if anyone is getting their hands on me.”

They both sighed, hating how picky you were despite the need to be touched by a man.

“Y/n, come on, you just need one night to let your freak run wild and not be worried about ever seeing the guy again. While I understand wanting the guy to be attractive, if he’s got the equipment, I think you need to lower the expectations.”

Sliding from the booth with a laugh, you excused yourself to the bar for another drink.

The blonde haired man saw you get up and knew this was his chance to make a move, hoping that you’d give him the time of day as he could sense you’d be tough to crack. He watched as you looked for an open space at the bar, the only one next to him as he locked eyes with you, inviting you to take the spot.

You offered him a smile as you tucked some hair behind your ear, tapping your nails against the bar as you waited for a bartender to come your way.

“Aperol Spritz?”

You looked to the blonde at your right, a confused look on your face as you watched him sip his drink.

“I’m sorry?”

“I saw you from across the way, I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t drinking what every other girl in here was. So, I’m taking a guess, Aperol Spritz?”

You playfully bit your lip, not sure if that was a bad thing that he’d been able to know your drink order, but part of you didn’t mind either way. A hot guy at the bar, if not the hottest you’d seen all night, appeared interested in you and you would let him guess anything he wanted about you.

“Well, you would be correct. It’s been my go-to the entire time I’ve been out here. And if I had to guess for you.”

Eyeing his glass you smirked as his eyes were focused on you, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you study his drink.

“Hmm, I’m gonna guess you’re a vodka soda guy?”

He shook his head no as he pulled the glass to his lips, taking a sip before he answered.

“It’s a spin on a traditional mule, some people don’t like it. It’s a little spicy with some lime.”

The drink sounded interesting, and you were inclined to try and see what his taste was like. Still waiting for the bartender as the blonde extended a hand to you.

“I’m William.”

“Y/n, nice to meet you.”

After shaking your hand he held it up to signal the bartender, who immediately came to him to take his order.

“Another one for me, and for the lady?”

William pointed to you, catching you off guard as you were still confused how he’d had the bartender practically at his beck and call while you’d been waiting for minutes.

“Um, I’ll do the same thing!”

You smiled as you’d reached for the stool that sat tucked under the bar, figuring your friends wouldn’t mind you ditching them to have a drink with your new found friend.

“What do you think?”

William patiently watched as you sipped the drink, hoping you’d enjoy it. The taste was just as he described, a bit spicy with the perfect amount of lime.

“Wow, that’s good! I think I like it more than a traditional mule.”

He was pleased that you enjoyed the recommendation, clinking glasses with you as he took a sip himself before asking about your reason for being in Ibiza.

You’d explained it was a girls trip, leaving out the details of your breakup, knowing those details would almost definitely deter any guy from being interested in you.

“It’s been a super fun trip, this is our last night out though so I’m a bit sad about that.”

“Your last night? And I just got the chance to meet you and share a drink? Damn, well, I guess I need to make the most of the time I have with you then.”

He smirked as his chin rested on his hand, looking you up and down as he finger traced over his bottom lip. Something instantly telling you there was more to what he was saying, reading inbetween the lines to hope that he was as interested in you as you were in him.

You took note of his toned arms that were simply covered by a white short sleeve shirt, a gold chain peeking out from under his collar, his pants hugging his thighs pretty tight. Making you wonder how muscular his legs would appear underneath the fabric.

The two of you had downed a few more drinks, your buzz increasing as you felt yourself growing more and more desperate to be closer to William. The way he ran his hand through his hair, his smile as he spoke and the occasional laugh he’d let out. You’d hoped he couldn’t see it written on your face how much you wanted him, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could control the thoughts running through your mind.

“Do you dance?”

His hand rested on your thigh, reaching for your fingers as your hands then intertwined. A smile on his lips as his thumb traced circles over your skin.

“Mmm, I do dance. I can’t say I’m good, especially after so many drinks.”

William laughed at your drunken words, standing up as he tucked some hair behind your ear.

“Well what if I keep a hand on you, to hold you steady?”

You looked up at him with lust filled eyes, playfully biting your lip as you rose to your feet to join him.

“I think you’re gonna have to hold me pretty close.”

“Then I won’t take my hands off you.”

William winked before he took your hand and led you to the dance floor, finding a spot for the two of you as he spun you around before bringing your bodies close together.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as two moved along to the music. His hands resting at your waist as he felt his heart racing with you so close to him. Trying to control his desire to let his hands roam your body and see how far you’d let him go before you turned him down.

But little did he know you were more than willing to explore his desires. Wanting to feel his hands all over you, to have his lips on yours.

“For someone who said they’ve had quite a few drinks, you’re moving pretty well on your feet.”

William smirked down at you as you rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you brought his arms around your waist, backing up so your ass was pressed against him.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t want to hold onto me.”

He laughed in your ear as the two of you were now grinding rather than simply swaying to the beat. The tension building as you’d tried to not seem desperate to be closer to him, but needing him to know you were open to take this as far as he also wanted.

“Oh trust me, I want to do more than just hold you. Like I said, I’m trying to make the last night of your trip the best night.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, smiling as one of his hands kept a hold on your waist while the other moved your hair from your neck. Exposing the skin to him as you felt his lips brush over your skin, his nose tickling your ear causing you to slightly flinch.

“The best night of my trip huh? You think you’re gonna be able to do that?”

William chuckled in your ear, loving the cockiness in your voice, as if proposing a challenge to him. To which he gladly accepted, not willing to back down from you. Wanting to follow through on his promise of making this the best night of your trip.

“I don’t want to sound cocky, but I can guarantee you won't be able to walk tomorrow once I have my way with you.”

His words send a wave of need throughout your body, the mystery of not knowing what would be in store being enough to have you ready to leave with him immediately. Knowing he had you wet on this dance floor solely from his words, the idea of what he’d do to you once he had you in private made you weak in the knees. Glad he’d had a steady hold on your waist, pressing your ass firmly against his crotch which you’d tried not to pay attention to as you felt him growing hard behind you.

“Is that a threat? Or a promise?”

He placed a kiss to your neck, softly biting at the skin before licking over the spot to soothe it. Earning a soft moan from you as you felt chills shoot up your spine at his lips against your skin.

“Why don’t we get out of here and you can find out?”

The invitation was all you needed, taking his hand in yours as you pulled him from the floor. Stopping back at the booth where your friends had been loving the fact you’d finally found someone to hopefully get you laid. Admiring the gorgeous man at your side as you asked them for your bag.

“Don’t wait up girls!”

You blew them a kiss as you quickly exited the club, hand in hand with William as you had no clue where you were headed. You and your friends had been sharing a room, so you hoped William had a room to himself that you two could occupy.

He noticed you looking left at right, appearing at your side as he snaked a hand around your waist. Pulling you into his chest as he began peppering your face with kisses.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a cab.”

You grabbed his face as you pulled his lips to yours, kissing him for the first time as you couldn’t handle the anticipation anymore. Tongues fighting for dominance as one of his hands gripped your ass while the other held you close to him. You bit his lip as you pulled away, blushing with a smile on your face as he tried to catch his breath. Your hand reached for his as a cab pulled up, William opening the door for you to climb in.

“How long is the drive?”

He smirked down at you, sensing how badly you needed him to touch you again. His hand resting on your thigh, slowly making its way higher to dip beneath your skirt.

“Someone is impatient huh?”

You felt goose bumps covering your skin as his fingers slipped under your skirt, brushing over the fabric of your thong to feel how much you’d already soaked them. A smirk on his lips, loving the idea of how wet you’d been all night just for him.

“Fuck, you’ve been this wet for me all night? I love that.”

His lips crashed back down onto yours while his fingers pulled the fabric of your thong to the side, as he traced along your slit. A soft moan escaping your lips only to be swallowed by William. Your thighs instinctually spread to give him more access, William taking that as his sign to go further. His thumb slowly circled your clit as he slipped his fingers past your folds. A sharp gasp escaping your mouth as your hand instinctively pulled him deeper into the kiss, trying your best to muffle any sounds that were threatening to come from you.

William’s growing erection pressed against the zipper of his pants as he felt you soaking his fingers, loving the feeling of your juices coating his hand. Catching you off guard he suddenly pulled them from you, bringing them to your mouth as he broke the kiss. You gladly accepted his fingers into your mouth, sucking your juices from them as he bit his lip.

“Mmm good girl.”

The cab came to a halt and William handed the driver some cash before he pulled you from the backseat. You were pulling your skirt down as you climbed from the cab, hoping no one was able to tell what the two of you had just done, though also not caring as you were craving more from him.

His hand held yours tight as he pulled through the crowded street up to his hotel, secretly hoping the two of you would get lucky with an empty elevator ride to his floor. William desperately needing to have his way with you, pressing the button to close the doors just as quickly as they’d opened for you.

“Floor twenty.”

He instructed you on which button to press before you felt his hand pull you towards him. Pinning you against the wall you could feel how hard he was, a smirk coming across your lips knowing you’d gotten him so worked up. One of his hands sneaking back under your skirt as the other found its way to your throat, lightly tightening his grip as he stole a kiss from you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or nervousness, but all he saw was lust and desire.

“You trust me baby girl?”

All you could manage was a slight nod of your head as the ding of the elevator snapped William out of his thoughts. He took your hand as he hurried the two of you down the hall, fumbling with the key as he couldn’t wait any longer to have you all to himself.

Tossing the key on the dresser he pulled you further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you joined him. Straddling his waist as he lifted your skirt up to your hips, your hands tangling into his blonde locks as your tongues fought for dominance.

He let out a low groan at the feeling of you grinding your hips down onto him, signaling his approval with a smack on your ass. The sound echoing throughout the room as you winced at the slight sting, Williams hand resting on the sore spot as if to soothe it.

“You’re so fucking sexy, I hope you’re ready for everything I wanna do to you.”

His voice was low and laced with desire, he needed you in every way possible. Your mind racing at the things this man had in store for you, and knowing you’d do just about anything he asked left you practically begging him to continue.

Normally you weren’t one to explore different kinks or fantasies in the bedroom, your last boyfriend being more on the vanilla side of things. Which was fine, it got the job done. But something about William, his clear want to have his way with you and explore the limits a stranger would let him go, it brought out a side of you that you were ready to explore.

“Oh yeah? Well let’s see it then, I want everything you’ve got.”

He bit his lip at your words, his cock twitching in the confines of his pants hearing you say you wanted everything. And with that stamp of approval, he was ready to give you just that.

“Take these clothes off and get on your knees. Let’s see how bad you want it.”

Quickly you’d stepped out of your skirt, making sure to give him a good view of your ass that was now sporting a bright red handprint from him. William pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the side before resting back on his hands as he watched you strip for him.

His tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he smirked the mark he’d left on your ass, his hand falling to palm him bulge that was painfully pressing against the seam of his pants and needing to be freed.

Pulling your top over your shoulders, you tossed it to the side as you rested your hands on his thighs, finding your place on the floor in front of him. On your knees as he instructed while he looked down at you with eyes full of need.

Standing up from the bed he’d undone his belt with a quick flick of his wrist, then following suit with the button and zipper. Guiding his pants down his legs as you admired his build, your hands running up his thighs as you desperately needed to see what he was hiding underneath his briefs. Though the bulge in them was clearly telling you that he’d be plenty big enough for you and there would be nothing to complain about.

His thumb traced over your bottom lip as a slight chuckle escaped him, seeing how you eyed his bulge knowing you were surely soaked at the sight of his size.

“You’re cute when you’re needy, and I’m gonna make you beg for every inch of me.”

His words had you dripping, the anticipation for what was to come almost being too much as all you wanted was to get his briefs off of him and his length inside of you. But William wasn’t going to make this so simple. He’d finally discarded his briefs, his cock springing free as it lapped against his stomach. You felt your pussy throb at the sight of it, not only the length but its girth. Trying to anticipate the feeling of lowering yourself onto him and how he’d stretch you out. But you knew nothing could prepare you for that.

He slowly stroked himself as he took your chin in his other hand, guiding your mouth to line up with his length as you willingly offered. A low groan escaping his lips as the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, his hands immediately gripping at your hair as he couldn’t help himself. His hips slowly moved to match the rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down, slightly gagging each time his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck yes, I wanna hear you choke. Just like that.”

Picking up your pace his hips moved to match, his grip tightening in your hair but the pain only felt like pleasure as he held you in place as his cock filled your throat. His breath sharp as he slightly twitched, feeling you deepthroat him, your eyes slightly tearing up as your nails dug into his thighs.

He pulled your mouth from his cock with a groan, already missing the feeling of your lips around him as he picked you up. His hands gripping your ass while his lips crashed back onto yours. Arms wrapped around his neck as your nails scraped along his back, making him hiss at the feeling but he loved it. Wanting you to show him how good he made you feel through the evidence you’d leave on his skin.

He laid you down on the bed, eyes roaming your body as he licked his lips with anticipation, stopping to see the wet spot that had formed through the fabric of your thong. His cock twitching at the sight, desperate to be buried deep inside of you.

“Do you always get this wet?”

His smirking face between your thighs almost made you nervous, instinctually pressing your thighs together to hide yourself from him as if it were a bad thing. But William quickly pulled them apart, reassuring you it was nothing to hide from. His fingers hooking under the tiny straps that sat on your hips, pulling the fabric from your body as he was met with your glistening folds.

“Dirty little thing soaking your panties like that for me.”

His lips pressing kissed along your thighs, teasing you as his mouth was covering every inch of you except where you needed him most. Your hips instinctually adjusted as if to give him the hint, though he could tell from your eyes just how desperate you were for him to taste you.

“Talk to me baby girl. Daddy is gonna make sure you get exactly what you want.”

The way the pet name for you rolled off his lips surely had the sheets soaked beneath you. His slight accent mixed with the cockiness in his voice sent shockwaves down your spine as you could hardly wait any longer, his teasing becoming unbearable.

“I want you to taste me, please.”

Your hand gripped at his hair as you tried to guide him towards your heat, your voice slightly whiny as you pleaded with him. But he loved it, inching closer towards you as you could feel his breath on your folds, goosebumps covering your skin as you’d swallowed in anticipation.

“Mmm, please what?”

“Please daddy.”

Your response was almost instant, making William chuckle at how you’d become putty in his hands. But he loved every bit of it, knowing he’d repay you with the pleasure you’d be feeling at the hands of his mouth in seconds.

Hearing daddy roll off your tongue was all it took as you gasped, his mouth immediately pressing to your clit as he wasted no time. His tongue worked wonders as your back arched, hands grabbing at his hair so tight you were sure he’d lose strands.

“Fuck, oh my-shit!”

He chuckled at your reaction, it only encouraged him to continue as he’d slipped two fingers between your folds. His cock twitching at how wet you’d gotten for him, his fingers matching the pace of his tongue as you felt your breath catching in your chest. Breathing heavy as you could feel your fingers tightening around him, eyes fluttering shut as you tossed your head back. Not able to form words as the only escaping your lips were whines and moans as he brought you to your peak, but not backing down.

He could feel you were already close, your hands dropping from his hair to grip the sheets as your thighs pressed tight to either side of his head. Your body shaking as you tried to push him away, the feeling was overbearing as his tongue continued its attack on your clit. Pulling his fingers from your folds, he’d wrapped both arms around your thighs, holding you still as his mouth took over.

The way he licked and sucked at your clit you were seeing black, and William couldn’t take his eyes off you. Seeing how overstimulated you were as you body shook beneath him, looking down at him through half hooded eyes as you bit your lip.

He’d let his thumb take the place of his mouth as he came up for air, kissing your thighs softly as he smirked up at you.

“You wanna cum baby? I can see it in your eyes.”

Nodding your head was all you could manage as your mind was blank, William moving his hand so his fingers could dip back inside you.

“Mmm, fuck. Such a pretty little slut getting soaked for me. How about you cum for daddy and then ride this cock?”

“Y-yes, I need your cock inside me. Wanna feel you stretch me out daddy.”

He loved hearing you dirty talk back to him, the fact that you made sure to tell him what you needed despite the work of his fingers making it hard for you to breathe let alone speak.

“As you wish baby girl.”

William chuckled before his fingers picked up their pace, thrusting in and out of you as his tongue found its way back to your clit. The sensation already close again as he barely gave you time to recover from the previous high.

Your back arched as your moans turned into soft screams, William pushing you over the edge as he made you ride out your orgasm. Soaking his fingers and mouth as he’d managed to make you squirt, catching you off guard as you looked at him shocked.

“Fuck, I-I’ve never done that before.”

Taking his fingers in his mouth to taste you as he cleaned them off he flashed a smile, climbing up the bed and lowering himself on top of you. His lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss as you felt his cock slightly brush against your folds, making you twitch at the sensation.

“It was so fucking sexy baby.”

His lips trailed down to your neck as he slid his tongue along your jawline before biting at your collarbone. Your head falling back only makes him reach up and wrap his hand around your exposed skin, slightly tightening his grip as he whispers in your ear.

“Now how about you get in my lap and we make you do it again?”

William swapped your places, pulling you into his lap as you straddled him, his hand reaching behind you to unhook your bra in one swift movement. Pulling the black laced undergarment from your arms as he threw it across the room. Immediately giving attention to your breasts as he’d been eyeing them all night, never imagining them to be as perfect as they were to him.

While he gave your chest some attention, you took your turn at leaving marks of your own down his neck, hands roaming his muscular chest and arms. Soft moans escaping his lips every time he felt your teeth nip at his skin, always followed by your tongue to soothe the red spots you’d left behind.

Slipping a hand behind you, you took his cock and slowly teased your folds. Desperately trying to make him wait but you couldn’t hold out any longer yourself, sliding down his length as your hands rested on his chest to brace yourself. Expletives pouring from both of you, feeling him stretch you out as his head fell back against the pillow. Hands sliding down your sides to grip at your hips, holding you steady as he needed a minute to compose himself with how tight you felt wrapped around him.

“Shit…”

“Yeah.”

He echoed your reaction as he attempted to guide your hips, urging you to ride him, which you happily obliged. William’s hands moving to grip your ass as you grinded against him, his hips occasionally bucking at specific movements you’d done.

“Bounce on it baby, show me how much you like it.”

“Mmm, I don’t like it, I love it.”

Following his request you leaned forward as your arms rested on either side of his head, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock as he groaned in pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that. Such a good girl, fucking ride me baby.”

A smack of your ass from him urging you to continue, your pace picking up as you could feel yourself already getting close to another orgasm.

“Shit, I’m already close. You feel too good, holy shit.”

William smirked at you before he quickly flipped you over onto the bed, keeping his cock buried inside you as you gasped. Caught off guard by the sudden switch of positions, but loving the feeling as he put one of your legs over his shoulder to have a better angle.

“Think we can make you recreate earlier? Gonna really push you to your limits baby. Can you take it?”

Biting your lip you nodded, fingers gripping the sheets tight as his hand fell to your clit, thumb rubbing vicious circles as your eyes rolled back. His free hand doing his best to hold you in place as you were already shaking.

“Come on baby, let’s see it, be a dirty little slut for daddy. I want you to soak me.”

His words were like drugs to your senses, the only thing you needed to reach your peak. That besides his cock and thumb that was working its magic making you tongue tied as you could barely form a response.

“William, I can’t take anymore, it’s too much.”

He could feel you tightening around him once again, knowing you’d gotten you so close. His thrusts now sloppy as his pace picked up, both with his cock and his thumb.

“Fuck, come on baby, I’m gonna cum for you. You’re so close, I can feel it.”

His voice almost a low growl as you watched his brow furrow, his own climax approaching. Reaching down you pushed his hand away, taking over the assault on your clit and giving him the ability to grip your hips and thrust into you. Hard and fast as his fingers surely broke skin, leaving bruised fingerprints in their wake as your hips bucked against him. Your hand barely able to keep its pace, the warmth building up as your back arched.

“Fuckkk!”

William pulled himself from you as he came, his seed covering your stomach as your own release coated his chest. A cocky grin on his face as he looked down at the mess the two of you had made. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. Vision blurry as you all you could muster was a, “holy fucking shit”.

William climbed off the bed, disappearing to the bathroom before returning with a towel to clean you off. Your body slightly twitching at the feeling of him touching you, you’d definitely be sensitive for an hour or so with how good he’d pleased you.

After discarding the towel he picked you up, ripping the soaked sheets from the bed before setting you back down on the drier surface of the mattress. At this point you didn’t care where he set you down, just needing to lay still and try to recover.

“You okay baby girl?”

He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet, laying next to you before he draped it over the two of you. His thumb brushing over the skin of your shoulder while his lips pressed soft sporadic kisses.

“Yeah, I um, wow. Fuck.”

William chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you, closing his eyes as your breathing finally slowed to match his.

“Told you I’d make this the best night of your trip.”

Playfully rolling your eyes you ran your fingernails along the skin of his forearm, relaxing in his embrace as you tried to imagine how you’d explain this to your friends.

“What about tomorrow, you think you could make that the best morning of my trip?”

#william nylander #william nylander fic #william nylander smut #william nylander x reader #william nylander x female reader #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl smut #hockey smut #toronto maple leafs fic #willy nylander

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icewindandboringhorror · 1 month

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I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

#wax seal #crafts #wax stamp #stationery #Window one is kind of stinky.. I was imagining like a swirly night sky sort of looking thing so it would be a surreal contrast of a night #sky with a window in the middle that shows a daytime sky - but the silver and purple wax kind of mixed too much together #with the black and it just looks very plain black and not all that starry or anything hjbhj.. Of course the eye is probably my favorite #since all I ever do is draw eyes and still like eye imagery for some reason. The four leaf clover is very lumpy and skrunkty but also it wa #the smallest in size out of all of them so was easier to do multiple stamps of just to try it out.#The heart with eyes wax is actually more swirly in person. I wanted it to be a mix of light pink and red and white. and the wax #did kind of all blend together but in person you can definitely see MORE of the intentional swirlyness. in this it just looks plain pink.#I was going to do one eye in the heart but it looked weird. but now two seems too plain. i could have done 3?? in a pattern.. hmm #alas. I wish I could make actual metal ones. With the clay i have to paint them in a thin layer of olive oil before stamping because #otherwise the wax just kind of gets stuck in the grooves of the clay and then you can't pull it up. Very wacky ''unprofessional'' looking #set up where I'm hot gluing circles of sculpey clay to short stumps of a wooden dowel that I sawed apart with a serrated bread knife #and then using an old paintbrush to put olive oil on them whilst holding a spoon over a yankee candle flame hjbjh #ANYWAY.. I think if I were middle class/rich/etc. this would be one of the main things in my crafting room is like.. SO many colors #of wax. and all different custom made stamps designed by me. which could be much more elaborate in actual metal.. muahaha.... >:)c #RHGghhh... I actually don't want to talk much about it since (this is probably just my Obsessed With My Own World Artist Delusions) I #think I have a really cool idea for a game that could genuinely be successful if i ever get to make it and I don't want to give #everything away and spoil the whole plot/concept in hopes that one day I can actually do it - BUT - a game that I'd like to make after the #visual novel I'm making now has partially to do with the main character working as a sort of writer/scribe/artist assistant in an elven #city (set in my world/with my worldbuilding species and versions of elves and etc) and I was thinking of maybe incorporating #somehow being able to collect little writing type items like these like.. you can get different wax seal patterns or pens or etc. when I do #stuff like this in Real Life it always makes me think of that like.. ouh... this is good research.. what it shall be like to be a littol #elf collecting wax seals and such.. indeed... GRR i need to be finished with my current game NOWWW... i MUST work on other #thingss... aughh... ANYWAY.. yay. accomplishment to do One Single Thing other than Sit In The Summer Heat And Rot #though also hilarious as this was the first cool-ish day that was below 80F in a while hgvh #waking up like 'wow.. i actually feel okay today?? like I could do things?? how mysterious.. I wonder why..?? :0'' Its The Weather You Fool #Tis Always The Weather

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shirecorn · 3 months

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shadow of the colossus style game but the titans just flick you off or return you gently to a giant leaf with a pat on the head

#shadow of the colossus #sotc #shire screams #shire games #imagine you are a bug tho #trying so hard to get... you dont even know where you are #the task is to stay alive in increasingly perilous situations until you can get put on a leaf #final level is on a motorcyclist #bonus secret boss: roller coaster #hated level that everyone complains about except the god gamers who say everyone should get gud: macy's perfume department

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seelie-buddy · 26 days

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Tell Me You Love Me

summary : your love for alhaitham is endless, and you make sure to express that verbally; alhaitham makes sure his affections reaches you as well

contains : alhaitham believes in 'actions speak louder than words' ; pre-established relationship ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person

word count : 800

The candle by your bedside is close to running out when Alhaitham appears through the door. Eyes drooping and a yawn slipping out, the bed dips under his weight as he joins your side. You smile softly as he snuggles in, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut instantly.

"Long day?" You whisper, raising a hand to brush through his hair. You receive a sleepy hum for a response as you pull the blanket over him. "Rest well then."

You can feel his breathing slow as sleep comes over him. It's rather endearing, watching him melt in your embrace, relax to your warmth. Oh, you loved him dearly. And you had no qualms to saying it out loud.

"I love you," you say, a gentle whisper as you lay a soft kiss against his forehead. You would repeat those words for him over and over again until the whole world knew. You would let those words echo through your shared house, letting its warmth fan the fire of the hearth, allowing your abode flourish in the warmth of a home.

And you were sure he heard you, as you felt his hand brush against yours, his index finger curling around yours, wrapping your finger in a gentle, yet firm, hold.

The sky remained hidden behind large, fluffy grey clouds, indicating the rain that would soon fall on Sumeru City. It made sense then of the people rushing back into the shelter of their homes before they get caught in the upcoming downpour.

You simply smiled at the idea of a cozy evening. You paused in your tracks, however, as you caught the whiff of flowers. Turning around, you catch glimpse a flower vender, packing up their stall as the other merchants did.

You returned home, grinning brightly despite the light scoldings of the elderly flower vender who was rushing to return home.

"I'm home!" You chirp in a sing-song. And ah, the sight of your beloved welcoming you back with a warm smile.

You thrust the flowers into Alhaitham's hand, feeling absolutely gleeful at the surprise flashing across his face. His widened eyes, momentary gaping melting into a smile as he recognizes the bouquet of flowers to be the same as the first gift you had given him at the start of your love story.

"I have something for you too," he says in a soft whisper before disappearing into your shared bedroom before returning with another bouquet of flowers in hand. Ah, seems he must have encountered the flower vendor on his way home as well.

His gaze remains on you as you laugh at the coincidence, his eyes honeyed with endearment and softened with amusement.

Oh and his silent laugh as you jumped into his arms, hugging him tight.

"I love you."

You were sure you found your heaven on earth.

You love your off days. Not only did you get to sleep peacefully until the sunlight seeping in through the curtains slowly awake you, but you get to enjoy the sight of your sleepy beloved. The whispered 'good morning's as you take each other in an embrace, snuggling until late in the morning, that joy was unparalleled.

Preparing meals together, snuggling on the couch as one napped and the other read, random chit-chat about some curious thing that happened at work throughout the week; these were all simple moments, but things you yearned for when you had to be apart because of work.

You enjoy watching the sunset with Alhaitham, sitting down on the ground, surrounded by the smell of the grass and dirt. Waiting until the moon rose high as you listened to him narrate bits of poetry in languages you could only dream of learning.

As you worked around in the kitchen with him, preparing dinner, you smiled contentedly.

"I love you," you mummer.

A soft kiss lands atop your head as Alhaitham continues to work around you, leaving you grinning brighter than ever.

"I love you lots," you say amidst your soft chuckles.

"I love you too," Alhaitham smiles back. "More than words could ever express."

"Really?" You cock an eyebrow playfully, not bothering to hide how his words made you soar over the moon.

"Really," he says, not minding your playfulness. "I could use all the words I know, speak all the languages I can, and it still wouldn't suffice to express what you make me feel, how happy you make me."

Alhaitham turns towards you, devoting his utmost attention to you. "Your laugh, your smile, your voice, your eyes, they will always be more beautiful than any language, any poetry that the world has to offer. You are the language I love most, and the only one I want to remain fluent in until my time runs out."

a/n : I previously wrote this drabble (a quiet love) for alhaitham and enjoyed writing it a lot, so I wanted to write more for him (I'm definitely not biased.... okay maybe a tiny bit hehe—); but yeah, I really like the idea of alhaitham following the 'actions speaks louder than words' if it wasn't already obvious

→ this fic was the (3+1) kinda type, or well, I had that in mind when writing it; dunno if it was noticeable or not lmao

p/s : now that my senior year of highschool started, I might be a bit irregular at posting (not that I actually wrote consistently before—), but I don't have too hard courses this semester, so who knows I actually might be a tiny bit consistent; but yeah you get the point right?

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hockeybabe · 10 months

Text

Shoot Your Shot | M. Knies

Not my gif

Pairings: Matthew Knies x f!reader

Summary: Matthew has had a crush on you and just can’t refuse you.

Warnings: slight smut, Matthew can’t resist his crush, fingering, swearing, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking?

Word count: 1.5k

Note: ngl after I saw this gif, I knew I had to write smth for it. Also I went to a leaf game!!!! I GOT TO SEE CAPTAIN QUINN!

“Just come to the game.” You heard for the third time this day. You worked at a local coffee shop that wasn’t far from Scotiabank Arena, where the Leafs played. Your most regular customer, Matthew Knies, was always asking you to come to his game. You were a hockey fan but never went to games, thanks to your boss.

“That’s really nice, Matt, but I’m working.” You said, cupping the lid of a drink. Matthew groaned, leaning his arms against the counter, and walked away to find a booth. You called the name on the receipt, handing the person their drink. “Sally, I’m on break.” You told your co-worker as you put your apron up on the hook.

“You can’t be mad at me.” You said, walking up to the booth and taking a seat right across from him, folding your hands over the other. “I’m not.” He grumbled, not looking at you. You rolled your eyes. “Look at me.” You ordered him, and he did so reluctantly. “I’ll be watching from there.” You pointed at the TV that was displayed in the corner of the shop.

“It’s not the same, Y/N. I’ve wanted you to go forever. Just ask your boss.” He begs. You knew Matthew’s name had popularity, and your boss would never believe you if he weren’t there in person. "Look, I try all the time. It’s not worth it.” You said getting frustrated and walked away to start your shift again.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you and couldn’t stand to see you upset, especially at him. What he didn’t tell you was that he already talked to your boss and got you a ticket to the game right at the glass. But now he was scared you wouldn’t show when he went for pre-skate, and it would crush him.

Matthew looked down at the watch on his wrist, noticing he had to make his way to the rink. “I’ll see you y/n.” He said leaving money along with the ticket to the game. You watched him leave as a soft sigh left your lips. Liking Matthew wasn’t something you wanted, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he liked you, but being with a hockey player isn’t the easiest thing to do.

You had seen some hockey players girlfriends get attacked on Instagram for being in love, but you couldn’t deny the honest attraction you had for Matthew. He was everything you ever wanted in a guy. You walked over to the booth he was at and picked up his cup, noticing the money along with a strip of paper with the leafs logo on it.

You put the cash and paper in your apron pocket before putting the mug in the dish area. You walked over to Sally and leaned against the counter, noticing Matthew had left you a ticket to tonight’s game against Vancouver. “What’s that, y/n/n?” Sally asked. You lifted the ticket up and showed her. “Someone’s got a crush.” You heard it from behind.

You turned around and saw your boss with her arms crossed. You sucked in a breath and said, "It doesn’t matter. I’ve got work.” You said it in a low voice, not wanting to piss your boss off. “Y/n, go to the game. I already talked to the boy and the rest of his team. I’ll tell you they’re persistent.” Your mouth fell slightly at her words. “They were here?” You asked. “Oh yeah, all of them. All because that one rookie likes you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You are going, right?” Your boss asked, walking closer. “I’m mean, yeah, but who’s going to run-" “It’ll be closed for the night.” Your boss cut you off. Another thing your boss shocked you with was that she never closed the cafe unless something was wrong in her life. Whatever the team said to her, it must’ve changed her.

“Well, um, I got to go then.” You said untying your apron and grabbing your personal belongings. “Oh, you almost forgot this.” Your boss said handing you a jersey with the name Knies stitched on the back along with his number. “Now go.” Sally said pushing you to the door. You laughed at them, quickly placed the jersey over your clothes, and headed to the rink.

“Miss y/l/n?” Someone said to you. “Yeah,” you answered. “Please come with me. Mr. Knies asked for me to take you to your spot.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you followed him. You were walked all the way to a room with a TV with the game on, a bar, couches, and women.

“Y/n, right?” You were greeted by a blonde. You nodded slowly. “Steph, Mitch’s wife.” Your eyes widened in realization. You were in a room with the players girlfriends and wives. “It’s nice to meet you.” You shook her hand as she led you to the balcony to watch the game.

The game was already in motion, and Vancouver had a good offensive game. The Leafs were in the Vancouver zone, and there it was. A Knies goal, you couldn’t help but smile as Matthew pointed up to where you were. “He’s gotta good eye.” Steph says as the others cheer. "Yeah, he does.” Another says. “Aryne.” The woman says. “Matthew lives with me and John.” She says.

You smiled at the woman and continued to watch the game and talk to the other girls. The Leafs ended up winning 5-2. “You’re coming.” Steph said, licking her arm through yours as you made your way to the den and waited for the players.

You felt slightly overwhelmed by the number of people who knew who you were and even by the players coming out and introducing themselves. After John, you watched Matthew stroll out. You felt yourself smiling as your arms crossed over your chest. “Player of the game?” You cocked a brow at his Leafs belt. “Gotta keep it up.” He responded pulling you into a hug.

“We’ll talk about this.” You said this as he pulled you to the parking garage, where his car was. You sat in the passenger seat watching Matthew drive to your apartment, and it was something. You knew he was sneaking glances at you with the number of times he clenched his hands on the wheel, turning his knuckles white as you clenched your thighs together.

You get to your apartment, and you watch Matthew contain himself, shuffling his hands in his pockets and letting out deep sighs. Opening the door, you pull Matthew’s arm toward your bedroom. At the edge of the bed, Matthew turned you around and crashed his lips against yours. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, looming over you.

“Hi beautiful.” He said trailing his finger along your collarbone. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks. “I like your jersey.” He said it with a casual smirk. “I think I like it too.” You responded biting your lip slightly. The tension floated around you two for a while before you grabbed the collar of his shirt and teased him, thinking you would kiss him, but instead you kissed the corner of his mouth.

Matthew bunched up your jersey before kissing you. His hands trailed to your tits as he pinched your nipples and massaged your boobs. You moaned into his mouth, giving his tongue access. You both fought for dominance, with him eventually winning. Matthew trailed kisses to your neck, finding the sweet spot, while he slowly peeled your top layers off and unclasped your bra.

Feeling antsy, you moved your hands down Matthew’s body, putting your semi-cold hands under his shirt and feeling his body. “Fuck.” He hissed into your ear, feeling the coolness of your hands. You whimpered as Matthew grinded into your core. “Off.” You moaned as he kissed down the valley of your breasts to your pant line.

Matthew sat up on his knees, peeling off his shirt, while you admired from below, biting your lip. You started to peel off the rest of your clothes with the help of Matthew until you were both completely bare. Matthew trailed kisses along your things as his finger traced your folds. Your back arched at his touch, and he used his other hand to force your hips down.

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled, thrusting one finger in as you moaned. Matthew continued to thrust his finger while using his thumb to play with your clit. “More.” You begged in a muffled voice. Matthew instantly responded, adding a second finger and increasing his pace. You thrashed in your position, using your hands to grip the sheets. “That’s it princess. Let go. Come for me.” You let out a whimper as you fell apart on his fingers.

Matthew trailed his fingers up your body to your lips as you sucked the juices off his fingers. “Jesus baby. You’re so hot.” He smiled while lifting you up, allowing you to straddle him. “You’re hotter.” You said smiling back before kissing him.

815 notes · View notes

wannabehockeygf · 14 days

Text

Snooze - Auston Matthews

"I can't lose when I'm with you, How can I snooze and miss the moment? You just too important, Nobody do body like you do."

*** request: "Hey babes! (First time requesting, I’m a lil shy ☺️) Any chance you got something up ur sleeve for Auston Matthews? I’m in need of some fluff and domestic Auston 😗🤲🏽 pls work ur magic!"

summary: falling sick right as your boyfriend comes back from a road trip is unfortunate until he goes full nurse mode.

pairing: auston matthews x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: vomiting, talk about pregnancy, talk about over-the-counter drugs. notes:

hiiii requester! i'm so glad ur here and got me writing something fluffy i've been way too angsty lately !

i've never done this basic sick trope, hope it went well

originally wanted to do sick auston but ehhhhh

this was a quick write so apologies for typos if there are any

***

You fell asleep after cooking dinner, patiently waiting for your boyfriend’s return from his road trip. You’re still not used to the whole WAG thing—having him away half the time—but every time he comes back, you make it your mission to give him the best welcome and show how much you missed him, whether through a home-cooked meal or… other things. Except today, it feels different.

First, it’s the runny nose. Then, the scratchy, sore throat. Soon enough, you feel like a zombie, but you power through to make dinner, even though Auston texts you to let you know their plane from Minneapolis is delayed. Still—if you finish cooking now, you can get some sleep and hope this awful bug you seem to have caught will pass soon.

The Dayquil you took must be messing with your brain because even though you’re no longer fully asleep, you barely register your dog leaping off the couch, his paws padding on the hardwood floor as he goes down the hallway to investigate the sound of the door opening. Soon enough, his footsteps are accompanied by heavier ones—and a voice. “I’m… home?” Auston says, his voice getting smaller as he realizes your predicament.

The sound of Auston’s voice tugs you out of your foggy, fever-dazed state, though you can only half-process it. Your brain feels like mush, your limbs heavy and tangled in the blankets on the couch. You hear your dog’s tail thumping on the floor, a traitor in this situation because you’d much rather sink into the cushions and disappear than acknowledge anyone’s presence right now.

“Hey…” His voice is softer now, footsteps echoing in the quiet house. You try to blink away the haze, but your eyelids feel like lead. Your throat burns, your head throbs, and for some reason, Auston still seems far away—like you’re watching him through a foggy lens.

The blanket you’ve buried yourself under rustles as he gently peels it back, revealing the disheveled mess that is you. “Oh, baby…” Auston’s voice is filled with concern, and his hand is warm as it cups your cheek, turning your head toward him. His thumb traces over your skin, wiping away what’s probably a mixture of sweat and sleep.

“Feel like I got hit by a truck,” you rasp, your voice cracking. That sore throat has escalated to full-on gravelly. Perfect.

Auston chuckles, but it’s laced with worry. “You look like it too, honestly.”

You groan, pushing his hand away weakly. “I wanted to surprise you with dinner, not look like a hot mess.”

He doesn’t respond to that, instead sitting beside you on the couch and pulling you into him, tucking your head under his chin. You feel his heartbeat against your cheek, the steady thump soothing despite the illness clouding your head. His arms wrap around you, strong and comforting, his presence like a warm blanket—way better than the scratchy one you threw on yourself earlier.

“You don’t need to do anything special. Just rest,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead. You feel the coolness of his hand stroke your arm, almost rhythmic, as if he thinks he can rub the sickness out of you.

You shift in his embrace, trying to find a comfortable position, but your body feels stiff and achy. “I was fine earlier,” you mumble against his chest, though your voice is hardly convincing. “Thought it was just allergies or something.”

Auston laughs softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Yeah, because allergies totally make you look like a zombie.” He shifts so you’re lying down, your head resting on his lap now as his hand strokes your hair. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling good. I could’ve picked up something on the way back.”

You crack an eye open, just enough to glare at him. “I didn’t want to be a bother. You’re the one who had a long road trip.”

He rolls his eyes, and you can feel him adjust, leaning forward just enough to kiss the top of your head. “You’re not a bother. You’re literally my favorite person. Sick or not.”

That warmth in your chest spreads, despite the fact that your stomach is doing flips now—whether from his sweetness or the bug, you can’t tell. Probably both. You press your face into his leg, hiding your blush behind a groan. “Ugh, stop being so cute. You’re gonna make me throw up.”

Auston grins down at you. “I’d rather that not happen. But hey, if you do, I’ll hold your hair back.”

“Such a gentleman,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Your stomach, however, decides it has a different plan. As if on cue, a wave of nausea hits you out of nowhere, and you shoot upright, nearly headbutting Auston in the process. He moves with alarming quickness, his hands on your shoulders as you scramble to your feet.

“Baby, are you—” He doesn’t even finish the question before you bolt, making a beeline for the bathroom. You barely make it to the toilet before your stomach betrays you, and you regret every life choice that led you to this moment.

Auston is right behind you, crouching down beside you, and without missing a beat, he gathers your hair in his hands, pulling it back gently as you retch. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he soothes, his voice barely a whisper. He rubs your back in slow circles, the motion comforting even as you feel like death warmed over.

Your limbs feel like jelly as you lean over the toilet bowl, the cool porcelain a brief relief against the firestorm in your stomach. The nausea finally starts to subside, leaving you in that weird limbo between feeling terrible and somehow worse because your body has emptied everything it possibly could. Auston is still beside you, one hand gently brushing your hair away from your face, the other rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice so soft it barely reaches your ears.

You want to lie. You want to tell him you’re fine and that you can just get back to the couch, but the effort feels monumental. So, instead, you give a half-hearted thumbs up, the universal sign of I'm alive, but barely. You can almost feel Auston’s chuckle before you hear it—a low rumble in his chest that he tries to suppress, clearly more focused on being the supportive boyfriend right now than the snarky one.

“I’m… I’m okay, really,” you croak, trying to muster some dignity despite the situation. Your hair sticks to your face in places, and you can still taste the sour remnants of your last meal. Dignity is a lost cause at this point.

"Yeah, you look great," he deadpans, though his hands never stop their comforting movements. His concern is palpable, like a storm cloud hanging over both of you. Then, after a beat, he asks quietly, "Do you think you're... you know, pregnant?"

The question hits you like a ton of bricks. You blink, staring at the tiles in front of you for a moment as your brain tries to process what he just said. “Pregnant?” Your voice cracks, more bewildered than anything.

He shifts behind you, and when you turn your head slightly, you catch the tail end of his nervous expression—chewing on the inside of his cheek like he always does when he’s thinking too hard. “I mean, you’re sick, and tired, and you threw up, and…” His voice trails off awkwardly, like he’s walking a verbal tightrope.

You stare at him, blinking slowly as the words sink in. Then you snort. Actually snort. You probably look ridiculous—kneeling in front of a toilet bowl, hair a mess, face flushed with fever, and now choking on laughter. “Auston,” you manage to get out between chuckles, “I am not pregnant.”

His brow furrows in confusion, clearly not convinced. "How do you know? I mean, we weren’t exactly—" He fumbles for the right words, his ears going a little pink. "Careful."

You laugh weakly, waving a hand. “Trust me. This is not the immaculate conception. I’m just sick.” You groan, leaning back against the bathroom wall. “Why is it that anytime a woman feels like crap, people jump to ‘pregnant’?”

Auston sits beside you, stretching out his legs as he leans back, mimicking your posture. He’s still watching you with concern, though the edge softens into something more playful. “Well, you didn’t exactly rule it out, and now I’m over here freaking out,” he mutters, nudging your arm lightly.

“I mean, unless I caught this flu from immaculate baby Jesus, you’re gonna be fine,” you teased, even though you could feel your body still shivering from the remnants of your fever. “It’s just a bug. I’ll live. Probably.” You closed your eyes for a second, letting the coolness of the tile press into your back. It was oddly soothing.

Auston exhales slowly, then wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you toward him with gentle insistence. "Okay, fine. But you’re taking a pregnancy test tomorrow just to double-check." He pauses, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. "For my peace of mind."

You turn your head slightly, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “You’re that nervous about it?”

"You literally do my laundry, baby." he quips, but his smirk is soft, a far cry from the usual teasing gleam in his eyes.

As you slump against the bathroom wall, the cool tile pressing into your overheated skin, you feel the fatigue deep in your bones. Every muscle aches, and the nausea drains you, but the ridiculousness of the situation still bubbles in the back of your mind. You can’t help but crack a small smile despite it all. Auston, freaking out about the possibility of becoming a dad, all because you caught a stupid bug.

You open your eyes just a sliver, catching sight of him sitting beside you, still so close, like he’s afraid you might keel over any second. His brows are drawn together, worry lines creasing his forehead as his gaze flicks between you and the toilet. God, he really is concerned. The thought tugs at something warm in your chest, even as your stomach twists in unpleasant ways. He cares so much, and even though you feel like death, it’s kind of adorable.

“I promise I’m not pregnant,” you croak, voice still hoarse, though you try to make it sound reassuring. “But honestly… you’d be a great dad.” You’re not even sure why you say it—maybe it’s the fever, or maybe the meds messing with your brain—but the moment the words are out, you see his eyes soften. A flicker of something deeper crosses his face—surprise, maybe? But it’s quickly replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache in a different way.

His arms slide around you, and you let him pull you into his warmth, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Like I said, I can barely take care of myself sometimes.”

You scoff, though it comes out more like a weak wheeze. “Please. You know I don’t mind doing it, and you’re already taking care of me right now. You’d do just fine.” You nuzzle into him, the weight of your exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. Everything feels heavy, but his embrace is grounding—like being wrapped up in your favorite blanket, only warmer and so much more comforting. You could stay here forever, tucked under his chin, breathing in his familiar scent, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a momentary calm.

Auston chuckles softly, his fingers now brushing through your hair, untangling the mess with gentle strokes. “Well, if this is a preview of dad life,” he teases, though his voice is still thick with concern, “I guess I better start practicing.”

You hum, not really able to come up with a witty reply. You’re too focused on the way his thumb traces soothing patterns over your arm, each motion slow and deliberate. It’s as if he thinks his touch alone can magically make the sickness disappear. Honestly, if anyone could will you back to health, it’d probably be him. That thought alone makes your heart squeeze a little tighter.

Then, without warning, your stomach lurches again, and you scramble to sit up, pushing against Auston’s chest with a panicked look in your eyes. “No, no, no—” you groan, but it’s too late. He moves quickly, helping you back toward the toilet just as another wave of nausea hits.

This time, it isn’t as bad—your body has already rid itself of whatever it could, but still, you kneel there, heaving and gagging, feeling absolutely miserable. Auston never leaves your side, though, still holding your hair back like it’s his personal mission to keep you from suffering alone.

By the time you’re done, the nausea subsides into a dull ache, leaving you feeling empty and more exhausted than ever. You sag against the toilet, eyes closed, breathing slowly as you try to steady yourself. Auston’s hand is on your back again, those familiar, slow circles that bring some small semblance of relief.

“I think… I’m officially dying,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Well, you can’t die yet. I haven’t carried you to bed.”

You crack an eye open, looking up at him through your lashes. “You’re not actually gonna carry me, are you?”

“Watch me.”

Before you can protest, Auston scoops you up effortlessly, one arm under your knees and the other around your back, cradling you against his chest. You blink in surprise, though part of you is too tired to argue. His body is solid beneath you, and you feel strangely weightless in his arms. For a moment, you let yourself lean into him, closing your eyes again as the room sways gently with each step he takes.

“I told you I’m fine,” you murmur, though your voice lacks conviction.

“And I told you I’d carry you,” he replies softly, his lips brushing the top of your head again. His steps are slow, careful, like he’s afraid to jostle you too much. It’s oddly comforting, being cared for so thoroughly when you’re at your worst. You can feel the warmth of his body seeping into your own, his steady breathing a contrast to the chaotic mess that is your fevered mind.

When he reaches the bedroom, he sets you down gently on the bed, pulling the covers up around you with such tenderness it makes your chest ache again. You watch him as he moves around the room—grabbing a glass of water, adjusting the pillows, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Every small action feels like a testament to how much he cares, even when you feel like a walking disaster.

As you settle into the covers, warmth floods over you, and for a brief moment, it’s like the illness has loosened its relentless grip. Auston stands at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, his brow knitted with that familiar crease of worry. It’s a look he often gets when you’re upset or hurt—a furrowed expression that makes his normally relaxed face seem older, more serious. You hate seeing him like that.

“Babe, you really don’t need to…” you trail off as Auston climbs into bed beside you without hesitation. His body, solid and reassuring, sinks into the mattress, and you feel the familiar dip as he scoots closer, trying to nestle himself against your side. Usually, cuddling with him is the best—all warmth and muscle—but today, you’re not having it.

“Auston,” you rasp, a half-hearted protest bubbling up in your throat, “I don’t want you to catch this.” You’re all too aware of your clammy skin and the fact that you probably look like death warmed over, but his warmth is impossible to resist. Still, you try to shift away, though the effort is weak at best.

“Like I care,” he murmurs, voice soft as his arm loops around your waist, pulling you back toward him. His hand slips under the blanket, warm against your chilled skin as he rubs small circles on your back. You can practically hear the concern in the way his breath hitches every time you cough, the way his body tenses when you wince.

Your mind is foggy, caught in a web of fever and exhaustion, but you still manage a weak chuckle. “You say that now, but wait until you’re bedridden, too. You’ll regret this.”

He huffs a laugh, but the sound is more exasperation than humor. “I’ve got a strong immune system. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but relax a little in his embrace, even though your brain keeps flashing warning signs. You don’t want to be responsible for passing this awful sickness on to him, but god, he feels so solid, so steady. Like if you just let yourself melt into him for a little longer, maybe the world will stop spinning and the aches in your bones will fade away.

But of course, you can’t make it that easy. “You’re too close,” you mumble, weakly pushing at his chest, though there’s no real force behind it. “I’m serious, Auston. I’m a walking plague right now.”

“Plague or not, I’m staying right here.” His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of stubbornness to it—like he’s daring you to try and get rid of him. “Besides, I’ve been exposed already. If I’m gonna get sick, it’s too late now.”

You want to argue, but the way his thumb traces the curve of your jaw, so gently and so deliberately, is enough to silence any protests that might’ve formed. It’s ridiculous, really—here you are, a fever-ridden mess, and all you can think about is how warm and comforting his touch feels.

A small sigh escapes your lips, the last of your resistance crumbling as you let yourself sink against him. “You’re a stubborn idiot,” you mutter, though there’s no real bite to the words.

Auston chuckles, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m your stubborn idiot.”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, despite the pounding headache that still lingers at your temples. “You’re lucky I love you,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper now, too tired to muster anything more.

His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer as if he can protect you from the sickness wreaking havoc on your body. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—slow, even, so unlike your own rapid, fevered pulse. It’s grounding in a way, that simple sound, like the whole world has narrowed down to just the two of you in this bed.

“I’d do anything for you, baby,” he whispers, his voice so soft you almost don’t catch it. “Even if it means catching the flu.”

You try to respond, but the exhaustion is relentless, each wave of it pulling you further under, like you’re sinking into a pool of molasses, slow and suffocating. Yet somehow, despite the feverish fog clouding your brain, you’re hyperaware of everything—the scratch of the sheets against your skin, the soft hum of the air conditioner, and especially Auston. His arms around you are solid, like a lifeline anchoring you in the midst of your internal chaos, and you cling to him, desperate for any kind of grounding.

He hasn’t moved an inch since he settled in beside you, his hold unyielding but gentle, and despite everything—the nausea, the headache, the overall grossness of being sick—you can’t help but feel a tiny bit grateful. For all his stubbornness, for all his insistence on staying close even when you’re very clearly the embodiment of every flu symptom combined, he’s making it better, somehow. Just by being there. Just by being Auston.

Your breath hitches as another cough wracks your chest, making you wince, but his hand is already there, smoothing up and down your back in soothing strokes, like he knows exactly how much it hurts without you having to say a word. The touch is slow, methodical, as if he thinks it might heal you, and part of you wishes it could. You lean into it, letting out a small, defeated sigh as your body sags further into the mattress, too tired to hold up its own weight.

“Baby, you okay?” His voice is a low murmur, barely above a whisper, but you feel the concern threading through it. You hear it in the way he holds his breath every time you cough, the way his body tenses every time you shift, like he’s bracing himself for something worse.

“I’m fine,” you rasp, though the words come out strained, barely audible through your hoarse throat. You feel the scratchiness like sandpaper with every syllable. “Just… tired.”

His hand doesn’t stop moving, sliding from your back to your arm, then back up again, a slow, deliberate pattern. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, like he’s studying every little twitch, every breath. It’s almost ridiculous, how serious he is about it all, but then again, it’s Auston. He’s always been like this—quietly intense, all his emotions simmering beneath the surface but never quite spilling over. Right now, though, it feels like the concern is leaking through the cracks.

You tilt your head just enough to peek up at him, catching the sight of his brow still furrowed in that familiar crease of worry. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, like he’s trying to figure out how to fix it, how to make you feel better when there’s really nothing he can do. The sight tugs at something deep in your chest, that same warmth you always feel when you catch him being so… him.

“Hey,” you croak, your voice barely above a whisper, but he turns his head instantly, his attention snapping to you. “Can you, um…” You trail off, too tired to finish the sentence, but the question is already there in your mind, lingering on your lips. You just can’t seem to get it out.

Auston raises an eyebrow, waiting patiently for you to continue. His hand never stops its slow, soothing pattern on your back, and it’s both comforting and a little distracting.

“Can you, like… talk to me?” The words tumble out in a rushed breath, and you close your eyes for a second, feeling heat creep up your cheeks despite the fever. “About your road trip or whatever. Distract me.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you crack an eye open, only to see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You want me to talk about the games?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, but it’s gentle, soft. “You never ask me to talk about hockey.”

You manage a weak chuckle, though it quickly turns into another cough, making you groan. “Yeah, well… desperate times, Matthews. Desperate times.”

He laughs, a quiet sound that rumbles low in his chest, and you feel it more than hear it. “Alright, alright,” he relents, his voice dropping back to that soft, soothing tone. “Where do you want me to start? Game one? The flights? The boys?”

“Anything,” you mumble, eyes already fluttering shut as the sound of his voice wraps around you like a blanket. “Just… keep talking.”

Auston hums in thought, his fingers now trailing through your hair, untangling the mess with the same careful attention he gives everything else. “Okay,” he says, his voice low and soothing as his hand stills for a moment, like he’s gathering his thoughts. “Let’s see… well, first off, the travel sucked as usual. You’d think after all these years, we’d get better planes, but nope. Same old uncomfortable seats, same old cramped legroom.”

You hum, grateful for the distraction as you focus on the cadence of his voice. Auston’s travel complaints are nothing new, but there’s something comforting in the way he talks about it, like it’s part of the routine, something steady in the middle of everything else that feels like it’s spinning out of control.

“And then, of course, Mitch and Willy were at it again, arguing about who has the better Spotify playlist. Mitch swears by his ‘pump-up’ songs, but I’m telling you, Willy listens to the weirdest stuff. One minute it’s Swedish rap, and the next, it’s some random indie band no one’s ever heard of. He tries to get me to listen, but I just—" He pauses, catching himself, his hand rubbing your arm now. "Sorry, am I boring you?"

You manage a small smile, though it probably looks more like a grimace. “No. Keep going. Anything’s better than thinking about how close I am to throwing up again.”

Auston chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest where you’re nestled against him. “Alright, well, the games were solid. You know, nothing too crazy. Played a lot of good defense—made some good plays. I’ll spare you the details.” He glances down at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment, and you catch the warmth in his gaze. “You’d probably fall asleep if I started breaking down the power plays.”

“I might fall asleep anyway,” you murmur, your eyelids heavy as his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But, like… in a good way. Your voice is nice.”

He grins at that, and you feel the shift in the way he holds you, like he’s relaxing just a little, relieved to see you even a fraction more comfortable. “Thanks,” he whispers as he pulls you a little closer, resting his chin on the top of your head now. “I’ll keep talking then. What else… Oh, yeah, you would’ve laughed at Mitch trying to prank me. He thought he could sneak up on me after practice and dump water down my back, but I saw him coming from a mile away. I let him think he was being slick, though—right up until I turned around and drenched him instead.”

A weak laugh bubbles up in your throat, though it quickly turns into a cough. Auston immediately shifts, his hand rubbing your back as the coughing fit passes. “Okay, maybe no more making you laugh,” he says, genuine concern in his voice now. “Sorry, baby.”

You wave him off, still catching your breath. “No, no, it’s fine. I needed that. Distract me more. Tell me something else stupid Mitch did.”

Auston smirks, settling back into the pillows and pulling you with him, his body curving around yours protectively. “Well, there was this one time during warm-ups where he—"

As he continues, the warmth of his voice washes over you like a balm, each word lulling you further into a state of calm. It’s ridiculous, really, how much comfort you find in him recounting these silly stories, but right now, it’s exactly what you need. Just him, here, distracting you from the misery of being sick.

You close your eyes, letting the sound of Auston’s voice blend into the background, the rise and fall of his chest beneath you becoming the most grounding thing in the world. You’re not sure when you start to drift, but at some point, his words fade into a soft murmur, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of sleep.

The last thing you remember is the feel of his fingers brushing through your hair one last time, his voice a soft hum in your ear as he whispers, “I love you. Get some rest, baby.”

#toronto maple leafs #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fanfiction #auston matthews #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #am34 #am34 fic #am34 x reader #auston matthews x you #am34 x you #toronto maple leafs imagine #Spotify

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prettytoxicrevolver · 9 months

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4 + 1 | Auston Matthews

wc. 2.6k

four almosts between you and Auston Matthews and then one finally. (a best friends to lovers fic)

dedicated to the lovely @tonyspep! I hope you enjoy your winter fic exchange my love :) and of course thank you again to @wyattjohnston for putting the fic exchange together!!

FOUR

“Auston!!” you yell out from the kitchen.

You turn and lean against the counter, waiting impatiently for Auston to make his way over. You cross your arms, sporting a pout on your lips when he walks in the room.

“What’s up?”

“Can you grab my mug?” you ask, pointing to the mug sitting on the top shelf of your cabinet.

Auston had barged his way into your apartment tonight, insisting he hadn’t seen you in forever and that he needed a break from his annoying roommates. You of course took pity on him, inviting him to stay the night even though you knew that meant several hours of your heart beating uncontrollably.

For as long as you’ve known Auston, you’ve had the biggest crush on him. It wasn’t a secret, everyone on the Leafs knew, the wags, your friends, everyone but apparently Auston. You tried to play it off like it was fine, like it didn’t physically hurt to be in the same room as him, like you were fine with just being best friends for eternity.

Auston takes two steps closer, reaching above your head with ease and grabbing the mug from the shelf. He holds it up to your face and tilts his head with a mischievous smile on his lips. He’s always adored how much shorter you were. He took any chance to tease you about it, this was definitely no different.

“This one?”

“Thank you,” you start to singsong but when you reach for the mug, Auston holds it above your head instead. You roll your eyes, knowing what game Auston is playing and you want to smack that smug smile off his face.

“Aus,” you plead.

“Gotta pay the price darling,” he murmurs, turning his cheek and tapping it with his free hand.

Your eyes scan over his features, the stubble that coats his cheek and the soft crease of his eyebrow. Your pulse pounds in your veins and your heartbeat is so loud it could be heard all the way over in Vancouver. You think for a moment, how easy it would be to just tilt his head, press your lips to his and sink into the feeling.

Auston’s eyes flick over to yours and the eye contact shocks you back into the moment. You lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek, your body vibrating head to toe in nerves from the action.

“There you go darling,” he places the mug on the counter, sending a wink in your direction before turning and walking away.

THREE

“You’re aware I have a guest room, right?” you ask Auston as he flops down on your bed face first.

“Of course. But your bed is comfier,” he responds, sitting up and looking at you with that million dollar grin on his lips.

Of course that was only half the truth when it came to Auston’s explanation. Your bed was comfier, but he liked being close to you. Liked the possibility that maybe, in the dark hours of the night, he would make a move. Liked that if something happened and you regret it, the morning could wash away all worries. Liked being close to you in the most intimate way he could possibly think of.

“Mhm,” you respond, throwing a pillow at Auston’s head but he ducks away with ease unharmed.

You walk into the attached bathroom, getting changed into shorts and one of Auston’s leafs shirts and brush your teeth before making your way back out to your bedroom. Auston sits up in bed, back against the headboard, eyes scanning his phone. He looked like a Greek god, muscular, his face chiseled in all the right ways, soft smiles and warm looks. One look from him and you start to think you can fly.

“That’s where that shirt went?” he asks and you’re snapped out of your entranced gaze.

“You have a million of these,” you say, climbing into bed and pulling the covers close.

“I’ll just steal it back,” he says shrugging and your jaw drops feigning shock.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” he says, winking at you before turning over and flicking the light off.

“Goodnight Aus,” you say, finally slipping fully under the covers and welcoming sleep despite your rapid heartbeat.

Your eyes slowly flutter open, your vision taking a moment to readjust to the morning light causing you to blink a couple of times. You instinctively start to shift in bed but you’re quickly stopped by a weight on you. You blink a couple of more times and it takes all of your willpower not to gasp when you realize.

Auston is fast asleep next to you, chest rising and falling in a soft pattern, his hair tousled, a soft smile on his lips. You follow the groove of his figure, spotting one arm slung lazily over your hips and you quickly realize your head rests on the other outstretched one. Your legs are tangled and you feel every inch of him pressed against you in the most delicate and intimate way possible.

You drag your eyes back up to his face and are met with the softest brown eyes you have ever seen. The look Auston was giving you could only be described as truly, madly, deeply, crazy, in love. Anyone in the world would look at this scene and clearly see two people who will love each other till the world's end.

For a moment, Auston’s whole life flashes before him. Waking up next to you, going to practice, coming home to you, seeing you wear his jersey at every game, starting a family with you. The whole image makes the smile on his lips grow wider and his heart soars when you begin to smile back.

“Good morning,” you whisper, hoping the words don’t break whatever spell has been cast over the two of you.

“Mornin’ angel,” he responds and the pet name sends your heart into a flurry.

You watch as Auston’s eyes flicker from yours to your lips and you realize quickly how close the two of you are, faces only an inch or so apart. Austo can’t help but think of how easy it would be to close the gap, be connected from end to end. Finally feel whole.

And then his alarm goes off.

You both disentangle yourselves and get ready for the day, this morning staying on your mind for a while.

TWO

“Please?” Knies begs with those big blue eyes that make you say yes to anything.

“Ugh fine,” you respond, finally giving in.

“First rounds on me!” he shouts, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before dragging you towards where his car is parked at the stadium.

You head to the bar that the Leafs frequented, Kniesy had been begging you to go to a home game and then out to one of the bars afterwards for weeks now. It was hard to turn him down over and over but you finally caved. How could you say no forever to a boy that carried the same energy as a golden retriever?

“She’s here!” Matt yells when you enter the bar and you’re rewarded with the patrons yelling back in praise, even if they didn’t know you.

Knies takes your hand and leads you to the back where you’re met with a packed Leafs group. Players and wags alike sit in the circular booth but your gaze lands on Austin like it always does. He sits at the edge of the booth, a look on his face like he had been considering bolting since he got there. However, when the two of you make eye contact a soft smile crawls to his lips and he seems to relax back into his seat.

Matt takes the last spot leaving you standing awkwardly in front of everyone. You inch to the side, hoping to get away with just standing for a bit before grabbing a drink and coming back but Will has a better plan.

“Darling, just sit with Auston,” he says, gesturing to your best friend.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion and without a word, Auston reaches towards you. You instinctively take a step closer to him and his hands wrap around your waist and pull you down onto his lap. You try not to gasp at the closeness as Auston pulls you close and nudges your arm up to rest around his shoulder.

The movements all seemed second nature to Auston, not even thinking about what he was doing before you were planted firmly on his lap, cheeks flushing pink at your body pressed against his. Mitch grins mischievously from across the booth at his best friend and when you’re not looking Auston shoots him a stare that says “back off”.

You’re surprised you haven’t blacked out yet, a pleading glance thrown to Mitch, the only person on the leafs to know about your crush in Auston. He shrugs and your face heats up causing you to push it into Austons shoulder without realizing how much worse it was going to get when you closed that space.

“You okay?” he murmurs and you try not to shift as butterflies swirl in your stomach. Ever the gentleman, you couldn’t help but think.

“All good,” you whisper, eyes trailing over his features.

You wanted to lean forward, whisper in his ear all the things he was making you feel. Follow it up with kisses pressed along his sharp jawline until you reach his mouth, and finally feel whole.

“(y/n)!” you hear Kniesy call and you yank yourself away from where you were leaning even closer to Auston than before.

“Come dance!”

ONE

You sit in the tunnel at the Scotiabank Arena, twisting the sleeves of Matthews jersey that floods over your frame. You had been waiting down here with the other wags, mostly talking to Steph and glancing at the locker room area every few minutes. Finally, players start to emerge and one by one you watch them pair up and head out.

“Angel,” you hear Auston’s smooth familiar voice greet you and you look up smiling at him.

“That’s not my jersey,” the statement comes out as almost a question, but when he spots the number 23 on your sleeve, an unreadable look crosses his features.

“Yeah it’s,” you start but you’re quickly cut off by Matt coming out of the tunnel.

“Princess!” he calls, rushing over and picking you up in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

You had been on a couple of dates with Matthew recently, the younger boy asking you out a little after that night you went out to the bar with him and his other teammates. You said yes, despite your massive crush on his assistant captain and prayed that somehow he would help you get over your feelings for Auston. It wasn’t fair, but Matt was sweet and funny and someone you knew forever. If anyone could get you to stop thinking about Auston, it should be him.

“You’re?” Auston asks, pointing between the two of you when Kniesy finally sets you back down on the ground.

“I was going to tell you,” you rush out, like you had any reason to really explain to Auston what you and Matt were. The words should have been a dead give away of your true feelings.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Auston states, pointing at Matt with a threatening finger.

“Aus,” you start to plead but he shakes his head.

“I don’t care if we’re on the same team, if you hurt her, if i hear about so much as an argument, I will beat your ass. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Kniesy says, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

Auston watches as Matt pulls you away and it takes all of his strength not to rip you out of his arms and hold you close. Not to rush over and tell you that watching him with Matt made him physically ill. Tell you that he really truly does mean every single word he just said. Tell you that he would protect you to the ends of this earth. But instead, his nerves beat him, forcing him to watch you walk away with Knies’ jersey on your back.

AND ONE

“Go away!!” you yell, ignoring the knocks on the front door of your apartment.

“I have a key ya know!” you hear Auston yell back and you cross your arms, purposefully sinking further back into the couch.

“Fuck off!”

Unfortunately, Auston is not deterred by your use of curse words. He uses his spare key, swinging the door open to your apartment and letting himself in. You listen as his steps get closer until he’s leaning over the couch and you’re looking at his face staring down at you.

“Yes?” you ask and Auston frowns when your voice gets quiet.

“Scoot,” he says, forcing you to sit up and pushes you over until he can take a seat next to you on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you state, shrugging your shoulders in hopes that the action stops Auston from continuing his questioning.

“Bullshit. What happened?”

“Me and Matt broke up? I mean we weren’t dating seriously in the first place and I broke up with him but I mean it just sucks Aus I haven’t had a boyfriend in forever and every time I meet a really nice guy and start to date him something happens and I feel like I always fuck it up or,”

“Woah!!” Auston exclaims, grabbing your hands in his so you pause your rambling to look at him.

“Any guy that breaks up with you is a massive fucking idiot,” he says and you can’t help the laugh bubbling up from your throat.

“I’m serious!” he continues and the words are so intense you stop to look at Auston.

“You deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by fucking lightning.”

Your eyes search his for a moment and find pure sincerity. As much as Auston was praying that person was him, he loved you so much that he knew he could live if you felt that way for someone else. As long as you were happy, like over the moon in love, giddy, singing in the rain, huge cliche type happy, he was happy. He lived for you. He lived for your smile.

“Auston?” you finally ask and he moves closer at the sound of his name.

He leans in, one hand coming up to carefully cup your cheek and his eyes stay locked to yours to make sure what he was doing was okay. His thumb brushes over your top lip, causing them to separate before settling on the top of your cheek. Your hand lands on his thigh, squeezing lightly and moving closer as Auston’s other hand slides to your other cheek.

His eyes flicker between yours and your lips before he finally leans in, connecting the two of you head to toe like you always should have been. The kiss is short and sweet at first, but when Auston tugs you closer you find yourself moving to straddle his lap and the kiss deepens. When there's no more air left between you two you part and the smile that rests on your face is surely there to stay for eternity.

“Lightning, huh?” you ask and Auston grins, pressing his lip to yours once more.

#winter fic exchange 2k24 #prettytoxicrevolver fic #auston matthews x y/n #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews fic #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic

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lukehughes43 · 1 month

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AM34 Auston Matthews x reader

word count: 1,400 a/n: quick little blurb and or drabble thing of auston becoming captain because how could I not? warnings: none I think. maybe some swearing

You had never seen Auston this nervous before. Normally, he was relaxed, easy going, and tried not to stress about things very often. Only now he was busy pacing a hole in the floor of your shared apartment.

“Aus,” you called, “there’s nothing to worry about. Everyone’s going to love you as their captain.” His attention turned immediately to you. His brown eyes searching your e/c ones. “Plus the decision has already been made. Brad wants you as captain. Craig wants you as his captain. And, most importantly, John has signed off on the idea to hand the captaincy over to you.” Before he could protest, you crossed the room to stand in front of him. Gently you reached up to cup his cheek, a smile forming on your lips, “You deserve this, love. You’ve worked your life to get to this moment.”

Reaching up, Auston grabbed on to your wrist. Thumb working small circles against the soft skin. “I know I deserve it, and there hasn’t been a thought in my mind about passing the opportunity over, but I just - can’t believe this is happening.” His confession tugged at your heart. He had put his blood, sweat, and tears into becoming a Toronto Maple Leaf. Played in their first round series sicker than a dog, and still walked away as the MVP despite the loss.

“Well you better believe it soon, because we need to leave in an hour,” you remind with a kind smile. “Can’t keep everyone waiting for the star of the show today.” Balancing up on your tiptoes you pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek. “I’m going to finish getting ready, and you should too.”

It wasn’t long before the pair of you were seated in the front seats of his blue Porsche. Brian and Ema smiling happily in the backseat. While you focused on carrying the load of conversation, Auston’s hand had nervously worked its way into yours resting in your lap. Without missing a beat in the conversation about preparing your classroom for the up and coming school year, you squeezed his hand. A subtle gesture to show him that you were aware of the mixed emotions rolling off his body. “I’m sure the kids are going to love hearing about Auston becoming captain this year,” Ema smiled with pride.

Laughing you nodded your head, craning your body to face the backseat. “That will surely be the talk of the first few days,” you agreed. “Although, any chance they get Auston normally gets brought up. They always beg me to bring him in for show and tell.” The comment drew a laugh from Auston’s parents, and an eye roll from the man himself. But even he couldn’t hide the smile that was growing on his face.

“Has he ever come in for show and tell before?” Brian asked.

“Once,” Auston replied, eyes glancing at his fathers in the rearview mirror before turning into the parking lot. “Only it didn’t end up as happy as a day as all the little second graders thought it would.”

Confusion painted Brian and Ema’s faces, allowing you the chance to fill them in on the rest of the story. “A couple of tears were shed because some kids thought their show and tells weren’t as ‘cool’ as mine.” Grimacing you glanced over at Auston who was still wearing his smile.

“Well not everyone can bring a sixty plus goal scorer, can they?” He chimed, earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

Rolling your eyes you glanced back at his parents, “Of course they were all really excited and happy Aus had come in, but some of them felt overshadowed. So from now on if he wants to come visit, it’s on days when we don’t have show and tell.”

“Well talk about a lesson learned the hard way,” Ema laughed. Nodding your head you agreed with the woman, turning to glance around the half full parking lot. “Well, I suppose we should head in.” Taking charge as always, Ema Matthews headed out of the car, her husband following her lead.

You stole a glance at Auston to see him already staring back at you with those big brown eyes. “You ready hot shot?” Teasing, you pulled your interlaced hands up to your lips to press a kiss against his skin. “Because the whole hockey world is ready for you.”

A slight blush dusted over his cheeks as he stared at you, eyes darting between the diamond ring resting on your finger and your e/c eyes. “You know, I think you might have said that to me once before,” he recalled with a smile, “maybe like, eight years ago?”

“God don’t say that,” you groaned with a smile, “you’re making us sound old.”

“Well, we are kinda old, baby.” The both of you fell into a small fit of laughter, seemingly lost in memories from prior years. It was only when your beloved nickname fell from his lips like honey that you both silenced your laughing. “What if I can’t be the leader they’re expecting me to be? What if, even after all this we still can’t beat Boston in the playoffs? That I - we never win the Stanley Cup?” Your heart squeezed inside your chest as you stared back at him. Searching for the answers that he so desperately needed to hear, yet couldn’t place them. “What happens then? If I can’t be a Leaf for life.”

Taking both of his hands in your own hands, you faced him fully. Knees pressed against the center console, likely pulling the nylon fabric covering them. “Auston,” you breathed, “I have never met someone so right for a position of leadership as you. I love John, with all my heart, you know that. But baby, in this business changes need to happen. Different voices need to be heard, and right now yours is the guiding voice of the Toronto Maple Leafs. And it has been since you scored four goals in your NHL debut.” The old memory of his debut tugged a smile to the corner of his lips, but you knew he wasn’t fully convinced of your vision. “You have brought life back to this team, to this fan base. You’ve given something they haven't had in a long time: hope.”

“How does that translate to me becoming the twenty-sixth captain in franchise history?” His voice held emotions you couldn’t quite place. Sadness, fear, uncertainty. All things you knew Auston Matthews hardly felt.

Smiling you squeezed his hands once more, “My love, that’s one of the things most important about being a leader - a captain. You have to give your teammates, the ownership, and the fans something to believe in. Something to have hope for. You’ve given them that, and so much more Aus. There’s a reason you didn’t think about passing the opportunity over. There’s a reason John was more than willing to hand the captaincy into your very capable hands.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you have been the voice of this team since your debut in twenty-sixteen,” you answered with nothing but certainty. “It was only a matter of time until this happened, this past season was the nail in the coffin.” Auston’s face contorted into disapproval while you laughed it off, “Sorry only reference I could think of baby. But it holds some truth to it. Losing to the Bruins in the first round, again, sucked. It fucking sucked. For everyone. You. Me. The team. But you pushed through so much to play in that series. You took control and put the team on your back more than once. Playing sick goes a long way, Aus. It showed everyone in that locker room that you’re here to win. You’re here to bring this franchise a Stanley Cup, and even if you’re on your deathbed you're willing to be the person that helps bring the team to glory.”

Sighing Auston fell back against his seat. “Are you sure you aren’t saying all this because you’re my fiance?” His head lulled to the side to glance over at you with a soft smile. Leaning over the console you fixed the collar of his suit jacket, “No, I told you that you need to buy another suit because this one has been over worn because I’m your fiance.” Once the collar was laid flat against his body you looked to meet his gaze once more. “I told you all that because I’m someone who believes in you, Auston. Also someone who sees the greatness deep inside you.” “I love you, you know that?” He asked, body leaning forward to meet you halfway. Smiling, you nodded, “I do know that.” Quickly you closed the distance between the two of you to press your lips against his. “Now come on, I want to see you with a ‘C’ on your chest, captain.”

#Auston matthews #auston Matthews x reader #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs #my writing #auston matthews imagine #usa hockey #lukehughes43 #my work #auston matthews fic #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #nhl fic

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