#maple leafs fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettytoxicrevolver · 4 months

Text

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

429 notes · View notes

jackhues · 5 months

Text

karma - auston matthews

notes: this is based off of @matthewshisch's idea (karma is the guy on the leafs)! so s/o to her <3 also, reader is a singer :)) AND gif not mine !

likes are good, reblogs are better!

being a celebrity meant that no matter what, one thing would always be a fixed thing in your life. and that was the rumours.

one week you were dating a new guy. the next, you were engaged to some kid from your hometown. the next week, you were back with your ex.

no matter what, the dating rumours always flew around you. maybe the fact that you never made it public with anyone fuelled those even more. whatever the case, it was funny reading them.

especially when you thought about what you had planned for tonight.

a knock sounded on your door, followed by a familiar voice, "did someone order some flowers?"

you couldn't help the smile growing on your face as you made eye contact with auston in the mirror.

you were in your dressing room at the stadium, getting ready for the opening night of your multi-month tour. you'd worked hard to get to where you were now -- one of the most successful female artists in the world.

and right there by your side, supporting you for the past year, was none other than auston matthews, your boyfriend. you'd met at a leafs game years ago, but he'd only reached out to you just over a year before. ever since then, the two of you kept your relationship under wraps for the most part, doing your best to just enjoy your time together without the media's comments.

you'd talked about going public before, but for the most part, decided to let life take it's course. of course... tonight would be a pretty big surprise.

"hi, you made it," you got up from your chair, sinking into his arms for a hug.

"i wouldn't miss this for the world," he responded, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "it's my girl's big day. first tour in almost three years. nothing's gonna stop me from being here."

you grinned stupidly to yourself, finding auston's words so comforting and sweet. even after a whole year, he managed to make you feel giddy.

"i'm really happy you're here," you whispered, pulling away. "oh! i've got a surprise for you, but i can't give it to you right now. i'll give it after, okay?"

"a surprise for me?" auston repeated. "it's your day."

"hush, i wanted to do it," you said.

another knock sounded on your door, and your assistant, jenny, poked her head in. "y/n, we've got to start in ten. let's go. auston, mark's got your seat saved. head over quick, or someone'll spot you."

"that's not a big deal," auston waved it off. "if someone spots me, they spot me. it's not the end of the world."

"well, fact remains, we need y/n right now," she said. "c'mon, you can have her back when she's done her show."

"i'll see you soon," you kissed auston, before following jenny out to your position.

you adjusted your earpiece, waiting for the lights to dim. as soon as they did, the platform you were standing on moved higher, allowing you to enter directly on stage.

the lights turned back on, and the crowd went wild.

"let the show begin," you whispered to yourself.

---

"'cause karma is the thunder," you sang, "rattling your ground. karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter. karma's gonna track you down."

the crowd waved their flashlights in the air, following you as you continued dancing to the beat of the song, singing along. getting closer and closer to the surprise you planned for auston.

"step by step from town to town," you continued. "sweet like justice, karma is a queen. karma takes all my friends to the summit..."

you paused for half a second, allowing production to ready themselves and for the crowd to pay attention to the small change.

"karma is the guy on the leafs, coming straight home to me!"

you stomped on the mark, blue sparklers going off on either side of the stage -- matching with the colour of your dress and the leafs' colours.

the crowd screamed as you continued your performance, losing their minds at the confirmation that you and auston were dating.

"cause karma is my boyfriend," you locked eyes with auston in the crowd, noticing him smiling widely to himself as people nearby recorded the interaction. winking at him, you continued your song, "karma is a god."

the crowd continued chanting throughout the song, no one truly getting over the lyric change you'd done.

you had a feeling there were gonna be rumours about this for a while.

---

tags : @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 , @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

join my main taglist!

#naqia writes!#auston matthews #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x oc #auston matthews fic #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews x y/n #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews blurbs #toronto maple leafs x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey one shot #hockey fic #hockey

572 notes · View notes

residenthughes · 29 days

Text

coming home - connor dewar

pairing: connor dewar x fem! reader

word count: 11k

tags/warning: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst?, mentions of alcohol/drinking, minor swearing

summary: your entire life has entailed having connor by your side, no matter where the universe carves your paths. back home for the summer leading up to your final year of university, there's much to ponder - even your feelings about your best friend.

notes: this is genuinely a labour of love, the longest fic i've written in a long time 😭 i wanted this to be short and sweet, but it's long and sweet and i don't know how to feel about that lmao. but (!!!) i am really proud/happy about how this has come together and i hope you all enjoy this fic just as much as i loved writing it 😇 this is mostly proofread, but it is 5 in the morning, so I'll return to this soon! (apologizes for any errors towards the end!) more dewey content shall be coming soon, hehe! much love! <333

(also! this is very much in celebration of dewey's first goal as a leaf, teehee! 😁💗⭐️)

Summer’s always your favourite time of the year. Tan lines, midnight drives, fireworks, the beach. So much sweetness is in the breezy summer air and you simply can’t get enough. You wouldn’t admit it, but your favourite part of the season is when one of your closest friends, Connor, comes up from his gruelling hockey season and returns to the slow and laid-back lifestyle of your small town. Having grown up next door neighbours the majority of your lives, you quickly became two peas in a pod, always together with laughter following closeby.

Your friendship is something you’ve always treasured, held in some reclusive and special part of your heart that only houses your fated connection. No matter how mundane your time together may be - Connor strumming his acoustic guitar and you reading as the citrus sunset dips into the horizon - it's all so memorable to you and nothing, as you’ve come to experience, can ever replace his place in your life. However, life is a constant cycle of change and that first dose came when you two were fourteen, too awkward for your own good and growing out of your bodies. Connor was selected to play in a high-level hockey league hours away from your hometown and as your fingertips buried themselves into his tear-soaked t-shirt, you swore nothing could compare to this pain. The absolute tear of your beating heart out of your raw chest that ached with every gasp. You were a mess, undeterred by your futile attempt to appear as nonchalant at your silly age, but the second Connor stood on your porch, luggage in hand and the sadest tinge in his sage eyes, you fell apart.

Despite the sheer anguish you experienced that crisp autumn day, you adjusted. Stayed in contact with your best friend and continued to build up your life in his absence. Completed all your teenage rites of passage - took some extracurriculars, went to prom (you wanted to ask Connor, but ultimately decided against it), graduated high school and started attending university in Calgary - nine hours away from home. So many things changed and some still stayed the same. Connor was still as hockey obsessed and through his diligent efforts, he’s achieved his dreams of playing in the NHL night after night. You were there for draft day and there for his first game, university be damned. As was Connor, in the stands during your high school graduation and any time you needed him, whether that was him sitting on the phone with you until four in the morning or meeting up with you halfway across two countries because he felt like it. There was always something so spectacular about you two, your stories detailed by destiny and hung amongst the stars. A divine creation that despite the odds, of paths that have taken you two elsewhere, always merged because that is simply how it’s meant to be.

And, so it is, your last summer before your final year and here you are, fingertips tapping against the wooden bar as your leg jerks in anticipation of a figure that will come through your hometown bar, Punch & Judy’s doors any minute now.

Your best friend, Charlotte, manages to interweave your antsy fingers in between hers, a nurturing smile across her smooth face. “He’ll get here, don’t worry.”

Your eyebrows quirk, your legs stopping all motion. “Who said anything about worrying?”

She rolls her eyes, unamused. “You know what I mean,”

Then, she goes on to untangle your fingers, leaning her crossed arms against the bar occupied by the usual mellow group of regulars, including your own bunch of friends. “Besides, you know him. Knowing you’re here, he’s tryna get here quicker than a New York minute.”

A funny feeling flips in the pits of your stomach, an immediate flush coating the apples of your cheeks as you clumsily grab at your cider bottle. Connor always poked fun at your inability to enjoy a cold one, resorting to fruity flavours of cider. “He’s a law-abiding citizen, he’ll wait for the greenlight even if it kills him.”

“If you say so,” Charlotte casts you a glance out of the corner of her eye, smugness tugging at the corners of her lips as she takes another swig of her beer. The bell signifying the main door opening sounds in the background. “Oh, look. Speak of the devil and he shall appear! Hey there, stranger!”

Suddenly, your attention is elsewhere, eyes pinned to the tall silhouette that struts through the doorway of the LED ridden bar, kind eyes and a kinder smile with his tousled hickory hair and hushed voice finding its way to your eardrums again after so long. It’s like coming home again, watching from afar as close friends fall into endless hugs, your reunion saved for last as you beam a closed mouthed smile, reproduced by your best friend who opens his arms for a hug that solely belongs to you. You fall into him instinctively, inhaling his soft woody scent as you bury yourself in his embrace, the pendulum of your life coming to a pause as your universe centres.

“Get a room, you two!” Connor’s brother, Quinn taunts from over your shoulder, eliciting an exaggerated sigh from you as you’re reluctantly reminded of the lame chirps he seems to be full of whenever you and Connor are together.

You ignore him, savouring the moment for what its momentarily worth before Connor’s pulling away, arms loosely wrapped around the circumference of your waist as he peers down at you with those same green eyes you’ve known your entire life.

“Hi.” you breathe, short and sweet.

He simpers, something coy in the lines of his smile as he replies back, “hi.”

It’s a simple greeting, but there’s so much more in those few syllables - the endless gravity of your shared experiences and fondest memories making their way back to each other. Your eyes linger for a minute longer, taking in each other’s presence that’s long been missed due to your busy schedules leading up to your summer break. You part ways and despite how fulfilled you are to have him here and see him after some time, there’s a small knack that nags at you - hollow and wanting as you venture to a booth nearby, squishing up in between Charlotte and another one of your guy friends, Owen Power, who like Connor has been busting his ass in the NHL and friends with you all for longer than you can remember. You all chatter amongst yourselves with Connor’s brother sitting across from you, a discussion brewing as Connor returns shortly after getting a drink at the bar, sliding beside his brother with a beer in hand.

“Come on, Connie. Help me out here, these guys have lost the plot.” His brother argues, an eye roll your response.

Connor looks between your group, a knit in his eyebrows. “What’s the deal?”

“They’re tryna say, get this - that dolphins are more dangerous than damn orcas. Can you believe that?” Quinn attests, expression pinched as he ruffles the curls of his bleached hair sticking out his snapback.

“Hey! We’re well within reason to be arguing with you. You on the other hand? I don’t think so.” Charlotte proclaims, an accusatory finger directed towards Quinn.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, Quinn. You’re severely underestimating how evil dolphins are,” concludes Owen, his hand raised as he pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his sunkissed nose.

Quinn guffaws, jaw slack as his eyes flicker between everyone’s faces in quick succession, clearly in disbelief. “Are you hearing this right now?”

“Look, Q - we’ve been over this,” you start, hands extending as if to make sense of your proposed point. “You’ve been fed dolphin propaganda. We’ve literally shown you so many resources about their heinous crimes. Take it or leave it.”

Quinn groans, elbowing his older brother who wordlessly listens to the ongoing conversation. “Bro! A little help would be nice.”

A brief pause follows his younger brother’s melodrama, Connor weighing out the arguments of a conversation he hadn’t been here for, his eyes flickering over towards yours fleetingly. An unexplained shiver runs down your spine, the action camouflaged poorly as you appear to distract yourself from the sensation, fingernails scratching against the lines of your neck as you look up at the ceiling.

“Hello?!” hollers Quinn.

You swear he loves to hear himself talk.

“They’re right,” Connor concludes, eyes set on you as he speaks before he takes a swig of his beer, focusing back onto his brother. “Personally, I think you’ve been taking one too many trips to Sea World.”

“The promised land of dolphin propaganda.” mentions Charlotte.

“This is ridiculous!” Quinn exclaims, sending a heavy elbow into his older brother’s arm, all of which barely gains any sort of response from him. “What happened to honour amongst bros, huh? They don’t have that in Minnesota or what?”

Connor scoffs lightly, his smile reading amused as his head turns towards his brother. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you say.”

Quinn mumbles something under his breath, clearly displeased. “I forget you’re my harshest critic.”

Their double act entices the crowd, your circle of friends laughing amongst yourselves as Quinn folds his shoulders with his usual theatrics. No one buys into it, much less Connor who drapes his arm loosely around his brother’s squared shoulders, leaning in with a tickled pink smile that reflects within your own expression.

“You’re just mad I won’t kiss your ass.”

That earns him a shove off Quinn’s shoulders, sending him into a fit of laughter. Everyone chortles along, basking in the merriment of the moment before you’re delving into other non-controversial topics, indulging everyone in the bits and pieces of your lives they’ve missed and just like that, you're four drinks in and so sentimental it hurts. Owen suggests a walk around the town centre, a tradition you cannot help but all agree to as you all shimmy out of your respective booth, bidding Judy at the bar farewell as you file out of the establishment.

The cobalt sky dazzles with stars you’ve forgotten shine so bright here, the midday heat nowhere in sight as a cool breeze pushes you forwards. You linger behind Quinn as he impulsively hops onto Owen’s back, who stumbles at the sudden weight whilst Charlotte laughs at the unfolding scene. Nostalgia warms your heart at the sight, eyes half-closed and posture relaxing as the warm summer night holds you close and kisses your worries goodbye.

An arm drapes over your shoulders, your slow strides matching up with Connor’s as he looks to you, smile small and earnest as he playfully challenges, “Since when did you know about dolphin propaganda?”

You gasp, humour shaping your lips. “Well, you’ve been in my ear most of my life yapping about it, so…”

“Hey, I’m just saying - was I wrong?” the smirk on his face attests to his unwavering confidence and as you catch a whiff of his woody cologne, you roll your eyes in defeat, smile still on your lips.

“Considering you wore a shark tooth to school, I didn’t think so.”

You have to bite back the wide smile that fights to spread across your face, a few snickers here and there escaping before the loose ring around your shoulders closes in, Connor smushing your face inwards against the strength of his bicep. You can’t help but laugh throughout, swatting away his pesky grip that lasts no longer than a few seconds before all you hear is the echoes of your winded chuckles. In an effort to stabilise yourself from the momentary loss of oxygen, your hand seeks Connor’s, holding onto his larger and warmer as your feet hit the pavement in unison.

“Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

You let your head fall to Connor’s shoulder, arm wrapping around his lower back as your steps sync with such ease. A lightness in your limbs and how perceptive you can be to the sounds of downtown - car horns, hushed chatter and the like - let you know there’s nowhere you’d rather be right now than here. Back at home, with your best friends and your partner in crime who you answer in the form of a hum.

Your first few days back in the Pas are slow and uneventful, most of your time spent decompressing from the taxing semester and unpacking your items, all of which you didn’t know just how much you possessed. In an effort to make the most of the sunshine and get out the house for reasons other than your part time job at the local diner, you sign up for community gardening activities and ask the groupchat if anyone wants to come along. Everyone appears to have plans, except for Connor, who in the early hours of the next morning, picks you up from your childhood home and drives into town where for the next few hours, you’re knee deep in dirt under the blaring sun as you plant various kinds of greenery to spotlight the natural beauty of your rustic town.

What is certain, when early afternoon pours in, painting the sky in shades of honey and tangerine, you’re exhausted beyond belief. You have no idea how Connor makes the drive home, yet he does and when you two collapse into the hammock in your family’s backyard, your lips are slack and echoing more yawns than you can contain.

“That was great and all, but that’s knocked me out,” Connor groans, limp body shuffling in the confinements of the cotton hammock hanging off one of the trees in your backyard. The same tree which holds the treehouse you and Connor partially lived in throughout your youth. “That was more tiring than hockey practice.”

You’re tired and easily distracted, your head perched up in a way that puts the treehouse in your direct eye-line. “Remember when we’d watch movies in that treehouse?”

A brief pause follows, occupied by the tranquil chirps and running water from the nearby bird bath. “Yeah, I’d always wanna watch Jaws but you wanted to watch Disney movies.”

You give him a laugh, shuffling yourself in order to get comfortable in the small space. Why did you two think this would work like it did ten years ago? The thought occurs to you, but you brush it off to save yourself additional mental load, making the adjustments to cater to some form of comfortability in the tiny space. Even if that means sacrificing your shared personal space as your body overlaps onto Connor’s strong and firm one.

“Says the guy who knows the all the songs in Lemonande Mouth,” you counter, “And, Let it Shine.”

Without missing a beat, in his sleepy voice, Connor replies with, “kissy kissy, Roxanne, did you miss me?”

Groaning despite the snickers slipping past your lips, you bury your head into Connor’s chest, refusing to hear the rest of his ramblings. “My girl is hotter than your girl, you know it! You know it.”

To get your point across, you unbury your head, wide eyes peering up at your best friend who’s so amused by this all, hair messy and smile stretching from ear to ear. A bright sight. “Can you not?”

“You’re just hating 'cause I sing better than you.” He follows that by sticking his tongue out at you, so mature for his age that you grant him the response of a heavy sigh and an averted gaze, settling back into the peace and serenity of your backyard.

However, the silence doesn’t last long before you’re speaking again.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you observe, fingertips dancing along Connor’s nape as you absently fiddle with the long strands of his hair, silky between your fingers. “You should let me cut it.”

“Name a time and place, and I’ll be there,” he mumbles sleepily against the crown of your head, soothing you further towards a serene sleep. “Unless you fuck it up. Then, I won’t forgive you.”

You give him the satisfaction of a laugh tucked away in your chest, the ghost of a smile dissipating as the aches of a hard work’s start to plunge their teeth into your flesh and bones, body like cement as you sink further into the comfort of the hammock, into the comfort of your calm summer afternoon.

“One of my friends from my team’s supposed to be coming up for a night or two,” Connor croaks, voice hoarse and the gentle breeze of the summer’s day pecking your skin in an act of love. “Think…you’ll all get along with him quite well.”

His point is punctuated by a tired yawn that proves to be contagious as you mirror the action moments after, eyes unbearably heavy as time moves slow like molasses, body further sinking against Connor’s. You don’t even stop yourself from falling asleep, only blinking away the exhausted sting in your eyes to answer your best friend.

“Can’t wait,” you mumble, adjusting your body against Connor as your limbs slot together like puzzle pieces, matched at every curve as slumber envelopes you two in a kind embrace. “It’ll be good - the visit…and the rest of summer.”

Your words trail in a drowsy daze, tone doused in sleepiness as your eyes can no longer keep themselves open, glimpses of hickory branches and pear leaves wishing you peace and serenity as you finally fall asleep.

Your shift at the local diner passes without as much traffic as expected, local patrons ordering their usual with a few tourists dropping by to try the culinary experience of your average but nostalgic diner food. Due to how quiet the establishment is - Mabel, your boss and long-time owner of the diner - lets you off early and with a hug, you scurry back to your family house to get ready for the night's events. After dozing off with Connor in the hammock out back, your mother softly awoke to you with a holler she’s used since the dawn of time.

“Up and at ‘em, kids. Dinner’s ready!” in the distance of your dreams, you hear your mother yell.

With drowsy film still coating your eyes, you and Connor manage to dislodge your limbs from one another, sleepy smiles and croaky chuckles exchanged as you amble inside your house and Connor stays for a filling homemade meal that everyone at the dining table fawns over. Connor hangs back as you venture into the kitchen to wash up, a tradition you two have forged, him washing the dishes and you drying them. Not much dialogue takes place between the two of you and there is no need. For all the instances where you believed the need for conversation, you appreciate this silence so much more - how there’s no urge to talk for the sake of talking and how much comfort there is with simply just being with Connor. After you’ve done the washing up and Connor’s hugged your mother goodbye, fist bumping your father hilariously enough, he’s climbing into his car and wishing you well.

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up from Mabel’s?” coaxes Connor, the wiggle of his eyebrows offsetting the echoes of titters that leave your lips.

“I’m good, thanks. Need to shower and get ready, anyways,” a gentle gust of wind blows, fallen leaves scraping against the cement of your driveway. “We all know how long that takes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Connor simpers, says like it’s the easiest thing in the world and like it doesn’t demand for the city of butterflies within you to soar beyond their ability.

You flash a strained smile, giving the top of Connor’s car a pat as your posture straightens and you step away from the vehicle. “Goodbye, Connor.”

“See you soon.” and just like that, he’s gone with the wind, taking a little piece of you with him.

It’s when you’re strolling your way back inside the house, halfway up the stairs to your bedroom that your mom gives you a gentle call, beckoning you back down the stairs to find her in the dimly lit living room, mahogany reading glasses hanging low on the bridge of her nose whilst the quiet snores of your father and his baseball game fill in the background noise.

She folds her newspaper, crinkles running up your spine as she addresses you. “So good to have Connie over, makes me miss him more when he’s away.”

Connor is like a son to her, the better part of your childhood glued at the hip whilst your parents cooed and awed at your loyalty to one another. He helps around the house with no complaint nor expectation of compensation, buys her favourite flowers every Mother’s day with an additional heartfelt gift come her birthday. He listens, he jokes and he cares. What more could she ask for?

“Can’t imagine how much more you miss him whilst you’re away.” she comments, throwing her denim clad leg over the other, directing all her attention to you, swaying between two feet with your hands behind your back, sceptical.

“Well, we try to meet up when we can, so it’s not too bad,” your hand goes to scratch the back of your neck, chin jutted as your head leans to the side. “…Is that why you called me down?”

Awkwardness rarely rears its head in your household built upon openness and unconditional love, which is why the unspoken truth your mother struggles to vocalise raises a red flag, your skin prickling as you fiddle with your hands behind your back.

She’s looking at you now, a maternal love in her eyes as she speaks up. “Maybe, I can’t really put my finger on it, really. I did, however, want to say that I hope you guys keep each other in your lives, however that may pan out in the future. There’s a special happiness in your eyes I want you two to be selfish with.”

It’s a small thing, she says. A snowflake amongst the pile of snow in the realms of your mind, but as you lay in bed later on that late afternoon, staring at the gold stars Connor helped hang up in your room, your mind wanders places it never conceptualised. Inserts Connor in places in your life where he hadn’t been previously - opposite you illuminated by a candle-lit dinner, dancing in a kitchen as you prepare breakfast and kiss each other in between, above your bare body as he holds you in the palm of his hand like you are the most precious thing the universe has gifted him. It’s a point in time that despite busying yourself with dipping your toes back into your hobbies - heck, even walking your next door neighbour’s golden retriever to clear your head - it never quite leaves you, awakening something deep and dormant in you that never goes away.

Snapping out of your syrupy daze, you adorn yourself in your finest line dance clothing, slipping on your gingerbread cowboy boots before you’re tying bows in the pigtails of your hair. Your mother yells down the stairs for you and you leave in a flash, kissing her goodbye as she drops you off at Punch and Judy’s, your jewellery clinking together as you walk through the main entrance.

Much like your first night back, the bar is illuminated in dim light and sharp LED lights of varying colours. Cowboy hats dominate the sea of customers, the building crowd of the bar dressed in shades of denim and tired leather cowboy boots. Knowing the others have already arrived, saving a spot at a nearby booth, you decide to make your way to the bar first, ordering your signature berries-flavoured cider, to which Punch (co-owner) makes quick work of, the cold beverage in your hands before you can blink.

“Beer not to your liking, sugar?” A smoky, mellow voice grabs your attention.

You spare a glance at the source of the gravel voice, eyes long lingering as they capture the image of a face that stirs a flip in the pits of your stomach. The man stood beside you braces his muscular arms against the hickory brown of the wooden bar, his sleepy chocolate eyes trained on yours as he takes a swig of his tequila flavoured Desperado beer. Locks of umber messily cascade along his face, unless tucked away in his vintage black cowboy hat that ties together the rugged cowboy look he presents with the sweet addition of his light stubble. To make things worse, he’s stupidly fit, his black t-shirt clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin. If it were up to you, you’d-

“Like what you see?”

The smug comment snaps you out of your hazy olge, a pout forming upon your lips with an accompanying knit in your eyebrows. You make a point to angrily grab at your pint glass, ingesting a big gulp of the sugary alcohol whilst the rugged cowboy laughs to himself.

Even his laugh is attractive. Sick bastard.

“Coming from a man drinking a Desperado? Funny,” you have to laugh at whatever lame attempt of making conversation this man is pulling, Punch masking his misplaced laughter behind a cough as he polishes a pint glass. “How flirtatious you are.”

You admit, your latter remark is more bark than bite, a quick chirp that refuses to feed his ego yet grab his interest all at the same time. The ruse proves to work in your favour as the sexy cowboy gives another one of his huffed laughs, his body turned towards yours.

“Give me a chance, sugar. Just tryna start the night off right,” he counters, so brazenly confident in himself that you don’t know whether to laugh or shy away from his prying eyes. “Tequila beer and beautiful company - sounds about perfect to me.”

You react in a juxtaposition, eyes rolling and cheeks flushing as you divert your line of sight away from the handsome man flirting with you at your hometown bar. Perhaps, he’s some city folk travelling through the town, fancying himself a good time at Punch & Judy’s weekly hoedown Fridays, a little bit of flirting on the side to inflate his ego and keep his blood pumping. Whatever reason explains his presence, you are not one to complain. Your love life isn't very entertaining to put it mildly, so you're willing yourself not to get swept up in his caramel eyes.

Against the wishes of your quickening heart, you decide to give Mr. Handsome Traveller the time of day, body shifting as you face each other finally. “You don’t quit, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow your way, something sneaky and sugary in the lines of his smile. A brief pause follows his actions, the soft rustic sounds of old town country murmuring from the jukebox nearby filling up in the space between your figures. It’s when he’s about to make yet another cocky comment that your conversation is put on pause.

Connor’s voice calls your name, head turning to find your best friend standing in between you and the Punch & Judy’s cowboy of the night, eyes wide and expectant as they shift back and forth in the middle of your standing figures.

“Dew, forget about Desperados tonight. The lady in bows will have your head otherwise.” Handsome Traveller nods his chin towards you, humour dancing in his smile as he snickers into his half-full glass.

Then, it dawns on you. Dew? One of the handful of nicknames Connor’s adopted over the course of his livelihood. So, they’re acquaintances? Or closer? Your eyes frantically search for social clues to point you in the right direction.

“The lady in bows is my best friend,” Connor explains, a bite to his words as his eyes glare a knowing look at Sexy Cowboy. He then goes on to face you, gaze softening almost immediately as his head tilts in his friends (?) direction. “This is Brandon, or Dewey One.”

Oh. Makes sense, you rationalise. This is Brandon, Connor’s close friend and teammate on his current team out in Minnesota, the one who gets into fights he can’t win on the ice whilst Connor trails nearby picking up his fallen gear. The one he told you a couple of days ago that was coming up to visit. And, of course you were flirting with him.

Of. Course.

“Dewey One?” you ask, minorly deflecting from your embarrassment and still genuinely curious.

Connor inhales, as if to speak but Brandon beats him to it.

“Brandon’s just fine,” he interjects, expression unassuming as Connor’s eyes put his visiting friend underneath a microscope. “Nice to meet you, darling.”

Normally, you’d wrinkle your nose at the sometimes sleazy pet name Brandon casually calls you, except this time round you find it more amusing than cringe-worthy, which is how you find yourself grinning as you two exchange a handshake that testifies to how strong Brandon is. You clear your throat to stop the circus unfolding within you.

“Come on,” Connor gestures over to you to follow suit. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

You call out an agreement over your shoulder as you go to grab your drink, the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as a close whisper brushes past your ears.

“I ain’t no quitter, sugar.”

The next couple of hours are spent packed into a crimson leather booth that peels at the ends, going from topic to topic over many a pints. Brandon fits so easily into your group, his infectious energy illuminating as he takes up space without regard, his confidence more enticing than suffocating. Everyone seems to be in good spirits as the alcohol keeps flowing and as you sit back, careful eyes watching your friends engage in conversation, you wish for this to be your forever for as long as you'd like for it to be.

A nudge against your shoulder turns your head, greeted by Connor’s sage eyes. “You ready for Judy’s Line Dance?”

His rhetorical question draws a laugh from you. “You say that like I don’t do this every time I come back.”

“Yeah, but if you were ready then, you would’ve brought your cowboy hat,” comments Connor, his veiny hands grasping gently at the ends of your braided pigtails accented with a bow. “What? Wanted to show off your pretty bows?”

He thumbs the ends of your hair, engrossed in the strands and its feel and for some reason, the casual intimacy of the moment inflates something in your chest, a balloon about to burst as you forcibly breathe in and out, clearing your throat afterwards. “They're my favourite accessories.”

Connor huffs, corners of his lips lifting gingerly as he continues his motions with his hands whilst your body remains rigid with the exception of your racing heart and crimsoning cheeks.

Your mother has definitely planted a seed you cannot unroot.

“Yeah, you’re almost always wearing them in your BeReal. posts. They’re real cute.”

For a fact you know so well, Connor’s confession comes as a pleasant surprise, one that shallows your breaths and quickens your pulse. It makes you reflect back on before, when all was platonic and the comment wouldn’t have made you bat an eyelash. Now, your skin tingles and you’re struggling to find the words to encapsulate your affection past your dry mouth. So, like many others in your position, you settle for a safe reply.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” you roll your eyes, brushing off his grasp because you might combat otherwise, projecting your attention ahead of you to come face-to-face with Brandon, who despite the engaging conversation he shares with Owen, his eyes skirt over to you.

You look away, even more flustered than before.

It’s just your luck when you hear Judy’s tap incessantly against an old microphone that you have something else to hold your focus, eyes brimming with glee as she announces the dances for the night and their updated partner songs. Last time you were here, they were still playing their beloved country hits and you danced along thanks to the amounts of alcohol you consumed, but their new playlist of pop hits within the past decade or so, you’re more motivated than ever to tear apart the dance floor.

“If you ain’t shy to do a little two step, please make your way to the dancefloor please.” Judy grins into her mic, tipping her cowboy hat as patrons make their way over to the illuminated space.

Connor makes way for you to exit the booth, your boots hitting the ground as you iron out any kinks in your outfit. Amidst your actions, you catch other movements out of the corner of your eyes, to which you find Connor playing with the ends of your bow this time round. There’s always been something so sweet and tender about him - in the way clouds are amongst a blue sky, in the way laughter spills over so easily in the presence of a found family and in how harmonies make you feel as if you're floating. But, it’s never been like this before, this intense and vivd. In a way that rids you of all thought and scares you beyond your deepest fears all at once. You’re still finding your footing in this new territory, a plain that speaks to the existence of your feelings but has no road nor destination. It’s a simple plain you seek to find some end to, picking up clues along the way that predetermine what the future holds. At the beginning, the animosity scared you pale and grey. Now, the end is what grasps your fear in a fierce chokehold. To pry yourself from the jaws of unhinged anxiety, you allow yourself to relax, to seep into the present and take it for what it's worth because the end is unknown and you’re not there yet. Not by any measure of time, you hope.

“Kick butt out there, rockstar.” His big smile deepens the soft lines of his face, a pure display of pride in his features as he gives you a pat on the back and gives way for you to shine.

It’s small, insignificant in the grand scale of things, but your smile deepens too and you nearly float to the dancefloor, adrenaline rushing through your body as the DJ prepares the upcoming music.

As you settle in line, you feel a light pressure lay upon the crown of your head, eyes darting to find Charlotte in the line next to you, giving you a wink before she faces forwards, thumbs slotted through the loops of her flare jeans. Her straw cowboy hat no longer, you reach up to find said object upon your head and with a chuckle behind your hand, your thumbs hang on your belt loops and let the music guide you.

It’s only when you’ve done your first turn that you realise that Brandon has also decided to join the line dance, huffs of amusement sounding from you as he glides and slides with a confidence dusted with his normal dash of comedy.

When Judy announces it's time for the partner dance, it’s your cue to catch your breath as you plan to evacuate the dancefloor. As mentioned earlier by Charlotte, the pretty sandy brown haired man who’d bought her a drink earlier in the night circles his arms around her waist as she gives him a smitten grin. You beam at the endearing sight, about to make your way towards your booth but are stopped in your tracks as a calloused hand clasps around your wrist.

Brandon’s expression is more sheepish than you’ve ever seen, his eyes distracted as they wander away from you. You raise an eyebrow.

“Who says the night has to end here, sugar?” His voice trembles partially, its edge lost in the coyness lining his smile as he finally looks at you with a dazzle of hope in his eyes.

A momentary pause delays your response, the moment used to turn the cogs in your head and sneak a glance back at your booth, where Connor was last you saw him, eyes trained on you as he simply watches the interaction. Under the weight of his gaze, a creeping sense of embarrassment climbs up your back, scolding the skin. You’re about to give your reply when the music starts up and Brandon speaks again.

“Put this desperado out of his misery and allow me this one dance?”

It’s so cheesy, maybe even idiotic - the words he proposes to you but he’s trying and that’s what appeals to you most, warms your heart and sways your response as you send him a nod that has Brandon cheesing ear to ear, his hand leading the way as you two fall in line.

You haven’t had much experience line dancing with a partner, the closest experience to this being a night you barely remember, happily back sliding with a fifty year old local in your college town bar who wanted to feel young again. Regardless of the fact, there’s no time to mull it over as the music already starts and your fingers are interlocking, matching up with the rest of the duos as you dance, cowboy boots stomping as you make a scene.

In all the commotion of heavy stops and ongoing thumps of Rihanna’s ‘S&M’, Brandon manages to catch your attention, mirroring your movements to a tee.

“You and Connor don’t do this much, do you?” he queries.

“You kidding me? Connie has two left feet, I’d be left for dead if it wasn’t for Charlotte.” You yell over the blaring upbeat country music, arms extended as Brandon glides you further away from his figure.

“Good thing I’m here tonight.” jesters Brandon, and you laugh along because you’re tipsy and having a lot more fun than you imagined.

Despite your familiarity with the dance routine you two execute to a tee, you’re caught off guard when Brandon brings you inwards, bracing you against his hard chest before his arm circles around the circumference of your lower back, holding you steady as he dips your body slightly. Your foot is kicked out, your (Charlotte’s) straw hat’s fallen to the scuffed dancefloor and you’ve just had the wind knocked straight out of you, eyes feverishly searching for answers as the bar falls to a hush.

You’re looking in each other’s eyes now, chest heaving and high off the adrenaline pumping through your veins from all that dancing. All time ceases to exist and it’s just two of you, sharing laboured breaths and looking for any cues for how this will end. It appears as if you’re in your own head at this point, combing through a thousand possibilities all at once to respond however you see fit. Thankfully for you, Brandon breaks the silence.

“One night and one night only.”

The sentence sends shivers down your spine and you’re pretty sure Brandon feels you quiver in his arms as he gives a brief chuckle, hauling you up onto your two feet and bringing you back to reality. You don’t really find their footing after that.

The rest of your time at Punch & Judy’s passes by in a flash, more pints being consumed over your group’s loud chatter as the night stretches on. Charlotte and her blue eyed companion indulge in another dance before he’s whisking her back to the bar and paying for everyone’s next set of drinks - bless his heart. He introduces himself as Jack, a new face in town and as he and the boys exchange pleasantries, the wild eyed non-verbal dialogue you engage in pieces together Charlotte’s sentiment and if it isn’t enough, when Jack makes his departure, she gives him a kiss on the cheek and bides him a coy farewell, a promise to meet in the next coming days on her tongue. One thing is certain, when Jack makes his exit from the bar, the door shutting behind him, you’re yelling and shaking each other’s shoulders in glee, stupidly happy and sharing that with one another.

Your table has their last drinks and before you know it, you’re being squeezed into the back of Owen’s pickup truck, sandwiched between Charlotte and Connor whilst Owen and Brandon sit up front. Over the murmured sounds of slow alternative music, you get bits and pieces of their conversation, the two excitedly talking about their shared love for Legos and the most they’ve splurged on one set. You shake your head with a laugh, going to share your merriment with Charlotte, only to find her soundly asleep, a light snore bypassing her punch pink lips.

“How you holdin’ up, champ?” Connor’s low voice draws you in, a slight head turn in his direction. “Don’t think I’ve seen you dance like that since we were ten and begging our parents to have a sleepover.”

The image is so vivid in your brain, two wide eyed kids that held hands as they begged and pleaded to have a sleepover, only for their polite request to be refused. Taking matters into your own hands, you dragged your parents’ big hands into the living room, where in front of them and an oblivious Connor, turned on MTV and danced to some popular song of the time. Lucky for you, it worked. Unluckily, Connor would hold that over your head forever onwards.

You’re cringing into your hand, face mangled in discomfort as you wish away the reality of you doing that away. “One of us had to convince them. Plus, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I can’t argue with that,” Connor laughs behind a fist before his hand falls to his side, a moment of quiet between you two. “You and Brandon seem to be hitting it off.”

A single eyebrow raises to express your confusion, perplexed frown prominent not because of his statement which is completely true, but because there’s an edge to his voice - something unfamiliar and cold in the way he says his words - a tone you’ve yet to hear, even after all these years. Uncertain how to proceed, you choose to be cautious about the matter, selecting your words carefully.

“He’s nice,” you state, because Brandon is but something in you twists uncomfortably, feels the recognizable pangs of embarrassment as you’re subjected to uttering this out loud. Or rather, in front of Connor. A betrayal of some sorts. “You were right about him fitting right in with us.”

There’s a strange shift in the air in the backseat of the car, the once peaceful quiet now becoming increasingly heavy and awkward as your words hang in the air like knives. Connor absorbs your words, stare averted as he watches his fingers fiddle with the lock of the door on the windowsill. You run your palms against the material of your denim shorts because you don’t know what to do with them otherwise.

It’s only when you’ve scratched the back of your neck, eyes stiffly roaming the interior of the car that Connor replies. “Yeah..I guess I just didn’t know how well.”

You’re about to ask him what he means by that, going to press him but Owen’s suddenly shut off the truck, his blinding interior lights turning on and him killing the ignition, alerting you of your arrival. Connor climbs out before your vision reverts back to normal, so you put the matter on pause and softly wake up Charlotte who sheepishly wipes away dried drool at the corner of her lips and climbs out the pick-up with you. You’re about to shut the door behind you, though someone beats you to it.

“I got it.” Brandon’s husky voice sounds from behind you, the slam of the door following.

You send an appreciative smile his way, perhaps a bit of timidity mixed in there too, turning to include Charlotte in any possible conversation to come, only to find her halfway up the porch stairs of Connor’s house.

How is it always the two of you left alone?

“Let’s head in, it’s chilly out here.” suggests Brandon, you falling in line with his request as the beginnings of goosebump dot your arms, the roughness of your skin hitting an all time high as Brandon’s large hand falls to the small of your back, guiding you up the stairs into the cosy and quaint house.

Hums of conversation lead from the back porch of Connor’s house, the presence of your friends known as you wordlessly navigate your way through the halls of Connor’s house, hallways and framed pictures you’ve committed to memory. When you’ve made your way to the kitchen, you find Owen nursing a cool bottled water, hair tousled and cheeks dusted in pink.

“There you two are,” announces Owen, fingers threading through the waves of his brown hair. “Everyone’s out back - apparently, Quinn’s out back too.”

You waste no time beelining for the backyard, the sudden weight of your reality dawning on you the second you stepped through Connor’s doorway, a cold shower of water easing you out of the mirage you’ve impulsively floated in. Once you’re outside, the cool air sinking into your skin, you spying the usual suspects - Quinn, Charlotte and Connor gathered together around a fire Quinn boasts about making. His glee is short lived.

“That boy scouts training finally coming in handy, huh?” Charlotte banters, a suppressed smirk sneaking amongst her features as she takes a seat in one of the camping chairs surrounding the fire.

“You laugh now but when you need someone to tie an impossible knot and survive off the land, don’t come running to me.” responds Quinn, taking a swig of his beer as Charlotte holds her hands up in surrender, laughing regardless.

You’re about to turn on your heels to head back inside, retrieving a beverage of your own, but a familiar call of your name is stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ve got your cider here,” alerts Connor, expression indifferent as he approaches you to hand off a can of your favourite berry cider and a bottle of water. “Blankets are on the chairs too.”

It’s embarrassing how much you want to melt into this man’s arms right now. Nonetheless, for reasons you know all too well, you express your gratitude in a toothy grin that he mirrors with a closed mouth, pulling you down into the camping chair beside his.

Soon enough, Brandon and Owen are sitting round the fire too and your night ends like this, light-hearted discussions under the stars as the heat from the open flame soothes your heavy eyelids closed. Whilst you’re mildly awake, you don’t miss the glances you and Bradon trade over the sandstone fire, loaded questions in his eyes. Had this been any other occasion, any other person not linked to Connor, any other reality where your current feelings didn’t exist for Connor, then there would be no questions asked, blossoms of wine doting both your necks come tomorrow morning. Alias, these were not the conditions and simply lounged in your camping chair, hoping Brandon didn’t look your way every time Connor’s hand would play with the bows in your hair.

Arm hanging out of his shiny porcelain white pick-up truck, Brandon squints as the rays from the blistering sun reflect into his eyes. Having said their goodbyes earlier, Connor and Brandon dab each other up with good-natured smiles before Brandon throws his focus over to you, standing with a bit more awkwardness than you’d like.

“Take care, Lady in bows,” Brandon says, a well-mannered nod sent your way with a closed mouth smile. “Don’t give Dewey a hard time. He’ll come round.”

For a split second, you’re eyeing him as if his face contains all the answers, but when he gives you that knowing look, the same one Charlotte and your mother give you any time Connor’s name is mentioned - you know. Know all too well and blush as a result, head snapping behind you to see if Connor’s within earshot. Thankfully, he’s in the middle of chatting with his brother, hands in his pocket as Quinn points off into the distance. You circle back to Brandon, the apples of his cheeks clear as day as he snickers like he’s been told a secret.

It’s as if this best kept secret brings you infinitely closer, your walls falling as you begin to bare the depth of your sentiment surrounding Connor. There’s no more beating around the bush, so you lower your head as you kick at the rocks at your feet. “You think so?”

You hate how small your voice comes out, meek and questioning everything known to man. It’s unfamiliar and not to mention, uncomfortable in every aspect of the word. Alias, Brandon sees you - catches the vulnerability you’ve shared with him and embraces you with a kindness that ushers a relieved sigh from you as he responds back.

“I’d bet my NASA Space Shuttle lego set on it.” Brandon banters, smirk soft and small.

So, he’s serious. Very serious, it seems because you know how treasured the item is to him. You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Thanks, Brandon,” you breath, coyness coating your cheeks as your hands fall behind your back, your fingers tangling. “Don’t go fighting no alligators.”

“We can only hope,” Brandon gives his side-door a smack, rounding up everyone’s attention. “I’m hitting the road, fellas. Enjoy the fair for me, yeah?”

A chorus of agreements go off from behind you before Brandon gives one more salute, speeding off into the canary yellow sun. The small crowd outside Connor’s house disperses and regroups again later on that day, refreshed and ready to attend the local fair held every summer and the highlight of the year.

The fair lives up to its expectations, grand and joyful with a variety of rides ranging from teacups to a catapult-like ride that swings back and forth and then upside down. You’re distracted by all the colours, the sights and sounds that you’re so oblivious to what goes on right before you, until your vision is shrouded in black and your face is submerged in fluff.

Retracting, you blink your eyes to adjust to the change in lighting, lips parting as you stare at the massive latte-coloured teddy bear that Connor presents to you, the rest of your friends nearby taking their turns at the darts board way ahead of them.

He must see you struggle to find the words, his grin infectious as he jests, “I think I’ve finally out-conned the concessionaires.”

You must look like an idiot, or a deer in the headlights as Charlotte jokes, disbelief strikingly apparent on your face as you reach for the souvenirs, the fluffy animal so cosy in your arms and melting your heart into a big puddle of goo. “Thank you, Con.”

“Don’t mention it.” a smile plays tenderly on his lips, the sheer kindness he captures in his sage eyes enough to make your pulse race and head spin.

After the thoughtful gesture, your high spirits cannot be tamed as you indulge in every little thing your heart desires - laughing a little harder, smiling a little wider and stuffing your cheeks full of hearty food that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Charlotte basks in your glee, speaking of a glow you radiate as she snaps photos of your stuffed cheeks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she hands you your teddy bear once your food is finished. You don’t reply, exchanging words through your glances as you make your way towards the second bit of rides the boys want to try.

“Wait, isn’t that…?”

As Quinn’s voice trails off into the distance, you find yourself turning in the exact direction where he directs your view, eyes landing on a pair of figures - one being Connor and the other being, Amelia, Connor’s ex-girlfriend from high school and most notably, his last girlfriend. Her waves of blond hair glisten in the sunshine, something like a Renaissance painting. Her smile bright and wide as she greets Connor with an enthusiastic hug, a hug you feel lasts longer than necessary.

They then go on to immerse themselves in conversation, and for the life of you, you can’t look away - pry your jealous eyes away nor dry swallow this bitter pill because she’s still so into him. Hands familiar and all over him, leaning in when she gets the chance and beaming like she’s won the lottery. In all fairness, her life’s been such a tale - excelling academically, incredibly driven in all sports and other extracurricular activities that garnered her attention. And such a kind spirit too, always there to help no questions asked that it made you physically sick that you could foster any ill feelings towards her, because she’s such a light and maybe Connor would see that too. As he did when they were together.

You’re too busy losing yourself in a sea of self pity that you don’t notice Charlotte's attempts to snag your attention nor other things at first, your illegitimate fears getting the best of you but as your posture stoops, your eyes floating everywhere around the busy fair that it pauses on Connor’s figure. Once immersed in conversation, he appears distracted, indifferent somehow as his attention wanders, wanders over to you as his line of sight floats over to you from time to time as the conversation stretches on. At first, you think it’s your mind playing tricks on you, feeding into delusions that’ll soothe your pity party, but at some point, he holds your gaze, giving Amelia a pat on the back before he’s jogging over to where your friendship group is, not even uttering a word as he slots himself between you and Owen.

“What was that about?” Quinn just has to ask.

“Oh, Amelia just wanted to catch up,” he sounds distracted, his mind elsewhere but you don’t dare to indulge, your sight directed elsewhere as you grip onto the plush teddy bear as if it were a lifeline. “She says hi, by the way.”

You don’t do much listening after that, tuning out all the colours and sounds of the fair as you ride the highs and lows of what your life has become.

A sense of urgency plagues you from that day forth, a hurriedness in your actions as your anxieties get the better of you, going from lounging around in day old pyjamas covered in crumbs and mystery stains to getting a head start on your master’s personal statement and running every errand you’ve been procrastinating. Your parents swear you’ve become a different person - venturing outside the house before noon to visit the bank to change your address or go get your car serviced. Perhaps seeing Connor with Amelia was the jump start you needed to stop relishing in instant gratification, distracting yourself from facing any sort of music that pertained to the future and all its question marks. You still hang out with the others, more so Charlotte as you spend a few afternoons at the lake with one another, feet dangling into the water as she updates you on her adventures with Jack.

It’s the first time someone’s pursued her with such sincerity and charm that she’s hesitant about his authenticity. And yet from the sounds of it, Jack doesn’t mind one bit and shows his patience as they get to know each other, the smitten man taking your best friend on dates that further solidify their connection. You couldn’t be any happier for your best friend, this kind of treatment a long time coming, all of which you express just to see her blush and dive into the cold lake water to avoid further talks. You chase after her, teasing her mercilessly as the thoughts still linger at the back of your mind - your own sentiment with regards to Connor and what has come from the change of heart.

Emotional anguish and so much fear you’re not sure what to do with yourself. It takes a week of mulling things over, his missing presence due to off-season hockey training for you to make up your mind, peeling into his driveway and hiding your apprehension behind a strained smile as he greets you at the door. You preoccupy every bit of silence with running chatter, because you don’t want to hear yourself think, a multitude of topics discussed over vodka pasta you make together before you’re finding your way into his bedroom, the early evening sky greeting you as he flicks on his buttermilk bedside lamp.

He brings out his guitar, the same one you gifted Connor two years ago at the height of his newly-found hobby and plucks the strings, creating a melody you compel yourself to relax into, somehow ending up sandwiched in between him and the guitar as he directs your fingers to play one of your favourite songs, just because.

Apparently, your shaky hands don’t make for good playing material.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, you cold or something?” notes Connor, his looming presence over your body sending you into overdrive, your skin feverish and mind imploding from overwork.

“This is different.” you annouce, because it is. Unlike times before, it didn’t mean as much to be alone in his bedroom with him, getting glimpses into the life he’s lived and who he is as a person through all his possessions. You could handle the casual intimacy - the soft spoken whispers, the unprovoked kindness, the skin to skin contact that didn’t send your heart into a series of flutters. Now, all you can do is bat an eyelash, many at that, and this you must make known. For the selfish reasons you can think of.

“What d’ya mean?” he mumbles, clearly distracted and known the wiser to his breath fanning over your neck, goosebumps rising against your skin as your body grows rigid against his.

So acutely aware of your proximity, of the bursting feelings that thud at the confinement of your chest, your thoughts scatter like glass. “This, Connor. Being like this…with you.”

That strikes a chord with Connor, his motions ceasing altogether as his hands drop from the guitar and you’re forced to face the music. Sink your teeth into this undeniable truth that’s followed you all these years and you’ve been too blind to see. Confront the holy truth that maybe there was more divine work intertwined in your story with Connor, that maybe the universe wrote you two as one heart as opposed to two. That, as the summer days ticked by, the sun seeping into your skin, your love grew for Connor like molasse - slow and thick and palpable that once you were aware of its existence, that’s all that consumed you. Coated in his syrupy love, an endless desire.

You’re facing your best friend in spite of the hellish screams in your mind to play this off as some random mood swing, a joke even, because laughter follows you two everywhere, right? But, you know. Know better than anybody else that Connor knows you, like the back of his hand. Sees right through any charade you may jester him with, so any attempts to divert the conversation are as pointless as anything. Your confession starts and ends here.

A flicker of concern mixes in the dark of his eyes, hands clasped together with a crease in between his eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”

A full body sigh draws out of you, shoulders sagging and back curving, your hands casting aside the acoustic guitar with caution. You’re back to staring at each other, in the silence of the night, caged in between four walls that burn your eyes white as you once again grapple with your innumerable feelings and the finality of it all - this longing.

“Don’t you think,” you croak, question in your eyes as you look up at Connor, stifling any rise in emotion within you. “-this summer has been different?”

His sage eyes cast away, pink lips settling into a pout as he racks his brain for whatever answer you may be looking for. “No? Maybe? I don’t know.”

He adds on, looking back at you as he leans closer without fault. “Is this because it’s your last summer before you graduate?”

Connor’s got a point. When you’re trying to kid yourself into not having romantic feelings for your childhood best friend, your mind wanders to places where it has more control. Plans for after college, what modules you’ll be taking, what societies you want to join, what last things you’d like to cross off your list before you’re forced into full fledged adulthood. It’s a thought that lingers ever so presently at the back of your mind, like background music stuck on loop, but ultimately, Connor has missed his mark and you tell him so.

“Partially, but,” you wet your lips, struggling to find the words again as the burn against your cheeks proves to be insufferable. “This is what’s been on my mind more than anything else.”

Your point is accentuated by your single finger gesturing between the two of you, a poor attempt at best to foster some sort of confession of your romantic feelings. Because it's so scary, lending these thoughts your voice because they become much more real, spoken aloud for his ears to hear and his heart to see. For his heart to feel and what then? What awaits you once your confession reaches his ears? The unknown is scary, chilling to the bone and you wish to shroud yourself from it as long as there’s daylight.

There’s a beat before you hear Connor’s voice again. “What about us?”

Hearing him vocalise those three words makes the moment so real, so vividly intense that it sends chills down your spine and slows your laboured breath, the thump of your heart all you can hear aside from the ticking clock against Connor’s bedside table. It ticks and ticks, signifying the curtain call to your summer long charade.

“Connor, I..” It’s as if the magnitude of your feelings have manifested into some beast, with razor-like fangs and sharp claws that slash at the confinements of your chest, the words of love dying on the tip of your tongue as the moments hangs over your head like a gauntlet. You’ve never been so scared before, driven nearly to tears as your desperate hands grip at the material of your hoodie to ground yourself in some sort of way whilst you try to push yourself. To see this through until the very end and leave the destination unknown.

“We’ve been friends our entire lives. I don’t know anything beyond being with you and I never wanted to, and I feel like that means so much more than it did years ago,” his eyes are on you, undivided attention served on a silver platter that you turn away from, for its sincerity and shine. “Maybe, I did know deep down inside what I know now all those years ago. Like when I cried and begged for you not to leave the Pas. Or when you held my hand any chance you got when we were kids, or anytime you smiled at me really that let me know I always liked you. Maybe, even love you - I don’t know. But, what I do know is that I just couldn’t leave for Calgary without letting you know. Even if that means…”

You don’t have the heart to utter your next words, a dagger to the heart at even the possibility of losing your best friend and partner in crime. Perhaps, it isn’t worth saying - this whole grand love confession because this is a risk you’re not ready to face. However, despite your thundering heart against your bruised chest and however many times you’re second guessing yourself here, the weight lifted from your words is undeniable. An unspoken truth that had been set free, that needed to be set free - whatever the fallout may be.

A snicker snaps you out of your deep seated fears, your scattered daze settling on the view before you, one you had least expected. Connor, eyes cast away from yours as he huffs into his hands, a laugh you’re undecided where it derives from.

“…Are you laughing at me right now?” You feel awful for even asking such a ridiculous question. At the same time, you’ve just been as vulnerable as you’ve ever been in your entire life - some hesitancy is to be expected.

At your question, Connor’s huffs of delight cease and stares at you at alarm, realising his mistake. “God, no. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“You used to rub dirt on me, and now you're proclaiming your love for me,” an airy laugh puffs out of his moving chest, a mixture of disbelief and amusement painted amongst his chiselled features. “It’s a bit of an adjustment.”

He seems…happy? Relieved? You’re not really sure, but what you at least find peace in is that there’s no sunken look about him, no expression worn that conveys disappointment and hurt because that’s all you’d have to see to know where his heart lies.

“Good or bad?” you ask.

His eyes bounce back to yours, those same olive eyes you’ve spent years looking into, glimmer with a sparkle that you’ve yet to see and robs you of rational thinking as your heartbeat picks up the pace.

“Good,” he whispers, like it’s a secret for just the two of you - one that is small and fragile, but so special and cherished that it makes your heart squeeze. “Because, there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Not by a long shot.”

You swear you could cry, burst like a dam and drown in your tears that overflow with such joy and relief because this is it for you. So right and settled, being where you’ve always meant to be - so loved and treasured by the one person who knows you better than yourself, someone who’s seen you at your most awkward and at your worst, and loves you because he has. Because he’s seen it all and wants to spend the remainder of his life doing so, a conscious choice he makes everyday because he loves you and you love him.

You’re unsure how you’ve ended up like this, limbs curled up in your lover’s lap as he cups your cheeks, rough thumb caressing the skin as his love shines through his gaze that blows his iris’ out of view. He looks so beautiful like this, unabashed and vulnerable, secure in love and what destiny holds for you. He looks at you as if you colour his skies and spin his world round and just like that, you lose yourself in him. Thread your fingers through his strands of umber brown and kiss him like you mean it. Kiss him long and hard, and with everything you have because it’s long overdue, so needed that you melt into him, lips overlapping as you taste destiny on his tongue.

The story of you and him, a tale as old as time.

#connor dewar x reader #connor dewar #connor dewar fic #cd24 #minnesota wild #toronto maple leafs #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #connor dewar fluff #dewey 2 #brandon duhaime #dewey 1 #dewey #residenthughes

323 notes · View notes

huggybearluvr · 3 months

Text

chatty cathy | am34

summary: After a harsh break-up you move to Toronto to be closer to your older brother. However, after many sleepless lonely nights in your new apartment your brother notices your changed persona and insist you come on a roadie with him to L.A.

pairing: auston matthews x marner!Reader

Masterlist

After you opened up to your older brother about how you've been feeling lonely he insisted you join him on a roadie to get out of your apartment.

You agreed, However you didn't expect to be sat at a bar in L.A beside his teammate and bestfriend.

Mitch had spent the night running between teammates and yourself rambling on and on about anything and everything.

"He can really talk can't he?" Auston laughed as Mitch ran off to the next group to ramble on some more.

"That he can," You joined in laughing, "When we were little he would talk himself to sleep."

"No fucking way," Auston said laughing even harder.

"Now thanks to that fucker, I can't sleep without some kind of noise or someone with me," You said, slightly opening up.

"I don't mean to be nosy or anything but Mitch told me you came with us because you've been lonely?"

"Yeah, My Ex and I broke up six months ago," You sighed looking down at your glass.

"Are you not over him?" He asked.

"No I definitly am, I broke up with him," You said now looking to meet Auston's eyes.

"So then it would be okay for me to ask you on a date, when we get back to Toronto?"

"I think I would like that very much," You smiled, over at the hockey player.

#auston matthews #auston matthews smut #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fic #auston matthews blurb #toronto maple leafs #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb

335 notes · View notes

wildrangers · 3 months

Text

The Planets and the Fates and All the Stars Aligned // William Nylander

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: The three times Willy almost asked you out and the one time he finally did

{This is my submission for the lovely @jackhues for The Winter Fic Exchange 2k24, organized by the amazing @wyattjohnston!}

Warnings/tropes: mutual pining, poor communication, resolved (minor) angst, fluff, cursing, drinking

You were grateful that Auston was taking you under his wing following your big move to Toronto—seriously. It was better to be at a New Year’s Eve party where you knew all of one person rather than alone in your apartment. Though…there were a lot of loud drunk men at this party which wasn’t your favorite vibe. You’d much prefer enjoying a nice cocktail with a view of Toronto over being stuffed in one of Tony’s teammate’s suburban homes. But really—you were grateful for Auston and this somewhat odd built in social network that came with him.

You were drawn from your thoughts by a cheer from the pong table and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the intense excitement of the younger guys currently facing off there. You flipped your wrist around to see the time again just as a large, familiar hand landed on your shoulder.

“That’s at least the fifth time you’ve checked the time since we got here…what, an hour ago?” Auston teased, grinning as he took the seat next to you.

“It’s only the fourth” you grumbled making Auston raise his hands in surrender.

“My apologies for the slander, miss.”

You rolled your eyes and jostled your shoulder into his before settling your head there instead. “I’m just tired from the move and everyone here seems very…extroverted?” you tried, not wanting to speak poorly of the group you barely knew.

“Look, I get it” he replied, ruffling your hair gently. “Can I please get you a drink now? At least your hands will be busy then.”

You nodded against his shoulder before raising your head so he could go grab your favorite drink. You were surprised when his place was quickly filled by a blonde-haired boy with mischievous blue eyes.

“You must be Julia, I’m Willy” he smiled, offering his hand for you to shake. You smirked, gripping his hand in your own. You were not, in fact, Julia, but this should be entertaining.

“Nice to meet you, Willy. I hope Auston hasn’t said anything too horrific about me.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure I talked to you before things got too serious with him.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean a gorgeous girl like yourself should know that I am available and a much, much better catch” he stated confidently and you threw your head back with laughter.

“Well, I may as well hear the sales pitch now” you smirked, pleasantly surprised by the tipsy man before you.

“I mean first of all” he said, simply pointing to his hairline, which drew a gasp from your mouth as you whacked his arm, “I’m just saying!”

“What are you ‘just saying’ to my cousin, William?”

Will’s blue eyes widened as he processed Auston’s words. “Wait so you’re…not Julia?”

Auston handed you your drink, “No, this is Y/N, weirdo. I was going to bring Julia to dinner tomorrow night but maybe I won’t now. How long did she have you going?”

“Long enough to put my foot in my mouth” he admitted and you smirked, pleased at the pink tinge rising to his cheeks. “But not so long that I can’t recover?” he questioned.

“Stay tuned” you replied, maintaining eye contact as you took a sip of your drink. Luckily, Auston was called away leaving just you two again.

“I swear, I’m not usually like that” he began and you tilted your head slightly.

“Like what?”

He seemed at a loss for words so you chuckled, “You’re fine, I’ll stop fucking with you now. You were just so confidently wrong, I had to see where things went.”

He chuckled to himself, “Confidently wrong is kind of a good summary for me actually…”

“The great William Nylander? No, I’d say most the time your confidence is probably just right.”

“You even knew who I was and still let me make a fool of myself?!”

You giggled and nodded, “I obviously know who you are, I watch as many of Ton’s games as I can. You’re usually playing in them too.”

“Wait, so rewind. You’re Tony’s cousin?”

“Not by blood, but yeah. We grew up together and our families are super close. He’s been trying to get me out here forever, so when a better job opened up in my company’s Toronto location, how could I say no?”

“When did you move?”

You jokingly checked your watch, “About eight hours ago now.”

“Oh well, welcome! I love it here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” he nodded, sipping his drink and you couldn’t help how your eyes were drawn to his mouth with the movement. “I moved around so much as a kid; this is the longest I’ve ever lived in one place. Minus summers in Sweden, obviously”

“I would love to go to Sweden” you admitted. “It looks so beautiful.”

As he began passionately talking about Sweden, conversation flowed seamlessly between you. He seemed genuinely interested in your answers to the questions he asked, eyes always remaining firmly on you in a way that made your stomach flip but also steadied you in the otherwise loud room.

You were dragged from your conversation as the countdown to the New Year began.

“Damn, it’s almost midnight already?” you questioned, checking your watch that had long since been forgotten.

“Guess so…do you want to ring in the New Year together?” Will asked and you were surprised by the tentative tone of his voice. Your eyes rose to meet his and you noted the nerves showing in the crinkle of his eyes.

“Yeah, sure” you smiled, scootching closer to him. “I have to admit, I’m surprised you didn’t seem confident I’d say yes.”

“I mean I wouldn’t want to come in too hot, making assumptions—that would be embarrassing, no?” he joked as he wrapped a tender arm around your shoulders.

“Of course, wouldn’t want to make that same mistake twice in one evening” you teased back and you earned a rich laugh from him that made your toes curl and you dipped your head to hide your grin. As the countdown entered single digits, your eyes rose to meet his again but he was focused somewhere just beyond your shoulder before turning his attention back to you.

“3…2…1…Happy New Year!” the room erupted but your world had shrunk to just you and Willy. You had a sneaking suspicion it had been Auston who briefly grabbed his attention from you, which was confirmed as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss to your cheek rather than going in for the kiss. You were disappointed until you felt his mouth brush your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

***

Once Will had given the bottle of wine and his thanks to Mitch and Stephanie for hosting, his eyes were scanning the room for you. He’d been kicking himself for months since meeting you for not getting your number on New Year’s but Auston’s stern stare had scared him off, as embarrassed as he was to admit it. He just hadn’t wanted to risk his friendship with his teammate, or worse, make you uncomfortable since you’d just met. Plus, the firm “If you hurt her, you’re dead to me” lecture Auston had given him the next day at practice had driven the point home.

So, some combination of your new job and Auston’s protectiveness had kept you away from any team, family, and friends get together’s until now, just as the regular season was wrapping up. Just as he had begun to give up hope that he’d see you again, Mitch mentioned that Auston had RSVP’d for 3 people, you and a plus one that he assumed was whatever girl Tony was currently seeing. Will didn’t waste another minute before confirming his own attendance.

His heart sped up as he saw you chatting with Johnny, your body language so much more relaxed than when he met you months ago. He made his way to you and when your eyes met his, the broad grin you sent his way knocked him out.

“Willy!” you called, standing to greet him with a warm hug.

“Hey, it’s been too long, how have you been?” he asked, pulling away just far enough to take you in. “You look beautiful tonight, of course.”

He was rewarded with a dip of your head as you hid your shy smile at his compliment, “I’ve been good, busy, so I’m glad Tony mentioned this dinner, it’s nice to see everyone.”

A long pause filled the air as he simply gazed into your warm, smiling eyes. “Hey Willy, I’m here too” his captain called from behind you and Willy laughed, greeting him with a handshake.

“Sorry man, it’s just been a minute since I’ve seen Y/N here” he shrugged sheepishly. John nodded, clapping him on the back, “Since New Year’s, yeah?”

Will shot him a questioning look but Johnny only smirked before walking off to chat with another group.

“Will, you’ve been having such an amazing season, I’m so happy for you” you smiled, settling back down in your seat and patting the spot next to you. He quickly sat where directed, pleased that the small couch made his outer thigh gently press into yours—he was even more content when you didn’t shift your leg away but closer to his.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Just trying to gear up for the Playoff’s now. How have you been, settling in well?”

As you two caught up with small talk, he wracked his brain on how to ask you out without making it weird in case you said no. This conversation flowed just as well as your first and your sly humor shone through even more now that you seemed more at ease.

“I’ve missed seeing you at other parties like this” he admitted when the conversation naturally lulled.

“I think Auston may have refrained from inviting me to a few” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “And then the last few just didn’t work with my schedule. I was happy when Ton mentioned you’d be here tonight though.”

“Yeah?” he asked, hopeful as his heart began pattering more intensely.

“Yeah” you grinned, knocking your shoulder into his. “I really enjoyed hanging with you last time.”

“Me too” he smiled, taking in the genuine joy on your face. “I was actually wondering…”

He trailed off as he saw your eyes shift behind him and widen. “Jake!” you called, standing up and waving over an unfamiliar guy who wrapped you in an embrace and quickly pecked your cheek.

“Hey pretty lady, sorry I’m a little late. The subway got delayed” he replied, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears. “Is this Will?”

As introductions were made, Will’s heart sank as he realized your boyfriend was the plus one, not Auston’s girl. It looked like he’d missed his chance with you after all.

***

You worked your way through the crowd, pausing as people you’d grown close to since your move to Toronto stopped you to chat. Johnny and his wife were hosting the start of the season party, welcoming everyone back to Toronto after being wherever they called home in the off season. You were hoping Will would be here but had refrained from asking Auston to avoid his eye rolls and protective bullshit.

When you’d seen Will at that spring party, you couldn’t admit to him that you’d partially been avoiding him. Not because you didn’t like him, but the opposite—you’d felt so drawn to him on New Year’s only to have Auston insert himself in the middle of things. After enough time had passed, you’d finally let your coworker set you up on that blind date with Jake. Who was nice but had basically been wiped from your mind when you’d met Will’s eyes across the room that second night.

You’d let yourself get wrapped up in the press of his leg on yours, the intense focus of his eyes as you caught up. Had allowed yourself to slip into the flirtation that had flowed so naturally between you during your first meeting. Until Jake had arrived, and you’d noted Will deflate before excusing himself.

You’d seen him a few times since then but he kept a wide berth, which you understood. But it had sucked and drove home that as nice as Jake is, he wasn’t the one for you. Which is why, several months out from that split, you were determined to make your move on Will—enough with waiting.

You grabbed a drink and surveyed the room, heart fluttering as you heard Willy’s signature laugh from across the room. He was talking with a younger guy you didn’t recognize but you strode over anyway. “Will!” you called and he spun, wide-eyed, at your voice.

“Y/N?” he smiled uncertainly but you just pulled him into a tight embrace.

“How was your summer? Tell me all about Sweden” you grinned, quickly introducing yourself to the rookie beside him who made himself scarce.

“Sure, but you seem…different” he noted, scanning your form as if he could find the answer there.

“Do I? I mean, not much has changed except Jake and I broke up” you offered and his eyes widened slightly.

“I’m sorry?” he offered.

“Don’t be. He was nice but it just wasn’t it, you know?”

He nodded, eyes skimming around the room before pulling out his phone. “Here, let me show you some photos from back home.”

You leaned into the comfort of his warmth, your eyes either taking in each photo he selected to show you or tracing the familiar lines of his face as he swiped through his camera roll. He was just so beautiful.

“It looks like a great summer, are you bummed to be back?” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, I always love coming back to Toronto—this is home too” he replied, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached up to sweep a strand of hair that had fallen into his face, your hand lingering there, cupping his cheek.

“Y/N…” he breathed and you were surprised when his eyes left yours to once again scan the room. His phone lit up, drawing your attention, just as he began. “I actually am…”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you cut him off, drawing your hand back, eyes fixed on his lock screen—a gorgeous shot of him with a beautiful woman tucked into his side.

His gaze followed yours and he quickly locked his phone screen, mouth forming a hard line. “No, I’m sorry. I should have been up front but whenever I see you, I just…”

“You just what?” you asked quietly, unable to stop yourself.

“I can only think of keeping you close. Even when I know I can’t, so I’m sorry.”

You sadly shook your head forcing a smile, “No, I did the same thing to you, didn’t I? I get it. I hope she makes you happy Will, have a great season” you assured him, squeezing his shoulder before excusing yourself from the party altogether.

***

Will wasn’t one to believe in fate but it seemed like the stars may be finally aligning as he entered Auston’s apartment to celebrate New Year’s Eve. He’d done his homework this time, enlisting Steph to make sure you weren’t seeing anyone. After your last encounter, his fledgling relationship hadn’t lasted long—not when all he could think about was you. That wasn’t fair to her, so he’d broken things off and thrown himself into the season. It was a contract year for him, he had to focus. But that focus didn’t stop him from noting that some of his best games were ones where he knew you’d be in the crowd.

Will wandered over to the large windows filling Ton’s living room, taking in the city skyline. He’d done a few laps but had yet to see you. Truth be told, he wasn’t in much of a party mood—he just wanted to see you. So, he wondered off from the main party down the hallway to what he knew to be Ton’s guest room for some quiet. He didn’t hear any noise from behind the door so he gently opened it, startling when he saw you curled up on the bed.

You hadn’t noticed the door opening, your head buried in a book with Taylor Swift playing softly from your phone. He took a moment to enjoy the sight before him—you, dressed to the nine’s, feet wrapped in fuzzy socks, eyes fervently scanning the pages before you, heels forgotten beside him by the door.

“Y/N?” he spoke softly, as to not startle you but you jumped anyway.

“Will?” you questioned, your head tilting to the side. “What are you doing here?”

“The New Year’s Eve party, silly, what are you doing locked away in here looking so beautiful?”

He was thrilled when you ducked your head, trying to hide the flattered smile that bloomed on your face. “Promise not to laugh.”

“Scout’s honor” he promised, settling on the foot of the bed.

“I’m on the last book of this fantasy series and I just wanted to make sure everyone got through the battle okay” you chuckled, holding up your nearly finished book. “I said hi to everyone but when I didn’t see you, I just wondered in here to try and finish it before midnight.”

“Well, is everyone safe and sound? I wouldn’t want to disturb you” he teased lightly and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I have like ten pages left” you chuckled. “I’ll come out and join the party in a few, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry” he shrugged, standing up but then stopped himself. “Would you actually care if I hung in here with you? I’m not in much of a party mood.”

“Sure” you beamed, scooting over on the bed to make room for him beside you. He slipped his shoes off, crawling up the bed to settle into your side, arm wrapped around your middle as you lifted your book.

“Is this okay?” he questioned quietly and you hummed in answer.

“Here, just lay down—that way I can rest my book on your shoulders” you motioned towards your lap and he didn’t have to be told twice, settling his head on your satin covered thighs.

A comfortable silence filled the room, broken only by you flipping the pages of your book. Will could stay this way forever, your scent wrapped around him, his breathing slowing to match your own.

As he began drifting off, you closed the book and set it aside. He felt your focus shift fully to him but he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to break this peaceful spell. He could have purred when your fingers gently ran through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp whenever your hand returned to the top of his head.

“I’m single” he murmured, nuzzling deeper into your lap.

“I know” you answered and he turned to look up into your eyes, confusion evident there judging by your chuckle. “I asked Stephanie.”

He let out a loud laugh, gently taking your hand in his own, “I may have done the same thing” he admitted, causing you to snort and shake your head.

“So, what does that mean?” you asked quietly.

“Hopefully, it means that when I ask you out, you’ll say yes” he questioned, nerves oddly not coming to his stomach. He knew how long you both had wanted this, the timing just never being quite right.

“Well, I can’t wait to say yes then” you smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his brow bone as your alarm rang from the nightstand. “Oh, time to get up, it’s 11:55.”

He shifted in response, sitting up and stretching, attempting to smooth out his shirt.

“Here” you offered walking towards him, heels firmly on your feet. He paused his fussing, allowing you to straighten his collar and smooth out the wrinkles that had developed on his chest. Your hand gently ran through his hair, settling down any stray hairs that had fallen out of place. “All better. Do I look alright?”

“You look perfect” he said honestly, rising off the bed and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. As you both exited the room, he marveled at how perfectly you fit there, tucked into his side.

The countdown had begun and Will’s eyes scanned the room, noting Auston immediately finding the two of you in the crowd.

“He’s intolerable” you mumbled, eyes also falling on Tony across the room. As the crowd counted down from ten, a giggle rose in his throat as you jokingly raised your middle finger to your cousin before turning back to him.

His hands settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him as your hands cupped his jaw, thumb caressing his cheek. With the New Year beginning, your lips finally met his and he wound his fingers through your hair to pull you closer. As your mouths moved in perfect harmony together, the rightness of this moment settled around him.

As the crowd picked back up again, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

“You have a game tomorrow, silly” you answered, chuckling. “But you can take me out the next night.”

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed! Please forgive any typos, I am in fact working through a concussion currently. It turns out writing for Willy has become one of my new favorite things to do. Always happy to hear feedback :)

#william nylander #william nylander blurb #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #nhl fic #nhl blurb #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs blurb #william nylander x reader #The Winter Fic Exchange 2k24

200 notes · View notes

yappyappyapp · 2 months

Note

Obsessed "Baby, Only You!" It filled every inch of my heart with love! May I ask what your fave Beatles album and song are? Mine are Revolver and "Dear Prudence." May I also please make a request for Jack Hughes? Anything more with him and a more stoic/quiet in public girl, would love to see where your incredible mind takes you. The way he understands and defends is just...yes! I needed that lol. Please and thank you!

i’d do it a hundred more.

(JACK HUGHES x reader)

hey!! thank you so so so much literally this made my day. 🫶🏻

my fav beatle albums def are sgt peppers and help (i adore the movie), and my fav songs are the long and winding road, i want you (she’s so heavy), across the universe, sgt pepper’s lonely hearts club band and julia :))

warnings: no mature subjects, fluff, no proofread (you can tell i never proofread my stuff)

—————

you had always been a quiet kid, stoic and stern looking. that obviously lead to you having a resting bitch face, making not many people approach your phlegmatic gaze.

not many kids were your friends, forcing you to turn your back to society and do things yourself, cold walls lifting to sternly keep out outsiders.

that was,

until jack. he melted those ice walls, wiggling himself in a short period of time, to be the centre of your universe. you fell in love with this man, the way his wide smile made your lips curl into a grin, the way his blue eyed gaze was boyish and gentle, the way he reassured you when a girl tried to get his number and hit on him, he stood up for you, most important of all. he was your everything.

he understood everything about you, your reactions, how you felt in public and how you were the most loud and outgoing person on the inside, when it was just them two, locked away giggling together.

jack held your heart and kept it protected, he knew your past, and you like the back of his hand, so he made it his part to protect you from jabs that people made.

one of his teammates girlfriends took a shot in mocking you and jack was sure to glare at her and tell her off.

“why do you look like that? you aren’t even in jacks league. don’t even pretend you aren’t not trying in the relationship.” the girlfriend snootily said, her boyfriend did nothing in reply to defend you. you glanced towards jack and could see him get angry, so you squeezed his knee, but he still started to yell at the girl, making her jaw drop and her eyes open wide.

“you don’t know her!”

“don’t ever speak about her in that way!”

“don’t speak on our relationship!”

jack roughly grabbed your hand and walked you out.

“you didn’t have to do that.” you said quietly, kicking some tiny rocks on the pavement with your shoe.

“for you? i’d do it a hundred more times.”

—————

sorry if this ain’t any good but

🫶🏻❤️🤍

234 notes · View notes

writingwithciara · 1 month

Text

Best Friend For Life ~Auston Matthews~

summary: y/n's best friend stephanie is getting married to the best guy in the world. aka mitch marner. she is the maid of honor but the best man tends to get on her nerves whenever they're together.

word count: 3.7k

pairing: auston matthews x reader, mitch marner x stephanie lachance

notes: so i was listening to a song the other day and for some reason, i immediately thought of mitch and his wife [friends to lovers sorta]

masterlist

"promise not to get mad at me?" was the first thing stephanie said as she walked through the door of the apartment she shared with her best friend. y/n looked up from her computer with a raised eyebrow.

"what did you do?"

"how do you feel about hockey games?"

"can't stand them. why? what did you do?" she repeated, getting up from her chair and walking over to her best friend.

"we're going to the toronto game tonight."

"and i repeat. what did you do?"

"i was at the coffee shop and i ran into this really cute guy. we talked for hours and he's so sweet. asked me to go on a date with him after his game tonight."

"oh that's great. congratulations."

"but there's a catch."

"oh god. what do i have to do?"

"his best friend is single and so are you so i figured you could tag along since his friend is going to be there too."

"give me one good reason i should, steph." y/n walked into the kitchen to make her lunch. stephanie followed her quickly and clasped her hands together.

"please come with me. i think this guy might be the one. like, for real this time."

"you're lucky i love you and believe you deserve the best."

"does that mean you'll come to the game and the date?"

"let's just see how the game goes first."

"yay. we need to dress really good." steph smirked and dragged y/n into her closet, the lunch completely forgotten.

that night, y/n met mitch and was amazed at how good he treated stephanie, even though they had only met each other a few hours earlier. his best friend, however, was not as great. he did try, but it was easy to tell that he didn't want to be there.

and it only got worse from there.

over time, they both developed a mutual disinterest in each other.

and here they were, a few years later, helping their two best friends plan a wedding.

it was very obvious from the beginning that mitch and stephanie were meant to be together so it was no surprise to anyone when mitch approached y/n to ask for her help with the proposal. he had already gotten her parents approval but he knew that her best friends approval meant a whole lot to her too. he respected their relationship and treated them both well.

the only thing that mitch did that y;/n didn't like was asking stephanie to move in with him. it left y/n alone in their apartment and it felt weird. mitch had suggested that auston move in, in place f stephanie, but y/n quickly shot that idea down. she would rather live alone than live with auston.

as the two girls sat in the kitchen of mitch's house, zeus was resting his head on y/n's lap. she stroked his ear and listened to the plans stephanie wanted for the wedding.

"i'm really honored you chose me to be your maid of honor. but do i have to dance with the best man?"

"i know you and auston despise each other but it's a tradition in my family that the best man and maid of honor share the dance after the married couples first dance."

"i know." y/n sighed. "i'll do it but i won't be happy about it."

"oh thank god. mitch and i were worried we'd have to break tradition."

"i would never allow that." y/n smiled and stood up. zeus tilted his head slightly and gave her a look. "maybe i should dance with zeus instead. he's so much cuter and he actually likes me."

"that would be cute, but it's-"

"tradition. yeah i know." y/n smiled. "how did auston react when mitch told him?"

"i think he's telling him after practice today," stephanie checked her phone. "which should be over right about now."

"i hope he has the same reaction."

over at the arena, mitch and auston were the last two out of the locker room. mitch sent stephanie a text and looked over at auston.

"hey, there's something i need to tell you about the wedding."

"what is it?"

"after steph and i have our first dance, there's a tradition in her family that follows that. the best man and the maid of honor have to dance together too."

"meaning i have to dance with y/n? seriously?""

"sorry man but it's tradition. you can put aside your hatred for one night, can't you?"

"i can promise to try but i can't promise a success."

"that's good enough for me." mitch chuckled and got to his car. "you coming over for dinner? the girls are making meatloaf."

"yeah sure. why not?" auston got in his car and followed mitch to his house. he completely ignored the fact that y/n was going to be there.

the next few days were spent learning how to dance properly. auston and y/n barely made it through without killing each other, but at least they were ready for the big day.

when it arrived, y/n and stephanie were in the room with the rest of the bridal party. the hairdresser finished the last touches on stephanie's hair and she turned around.

"so, how do i look?"

"you look like a princess. mitch is going to cry." y/n smiled and wiped a tear from her own eye. "gosh, you're so lucky. mitch is probably the last good guy on earth."

"he's the best." stephanie looked in the mirror and smiled. "i love him so much. i knew from the moment i met him that this day would happen."

"i knew too. he was the sweetest." y/n smiled. "if you guys ever have kids, that child is going to be blessed with the best genes ever."

"you and auston are good looking too. and if you guys ever get over yourselves and get together to have a child, it's going to be just as beautiful as you guys."

"we're never getting together."

"i want us to have babies around the same time so they can be best friends too."

"i can try to give you that wish. but it's not going to be with auston."

"okay. as long as i get a niece or nephew to love like crazy."

"i love you, steph." y/n pulled her best friend in for a hug before there was knock on the door. auston poked his head in and covered his eyes.

"you ladies ready?"

"auston, you can uncover your eyes." stephanie giggled and shook her head, shooting a look at y/n. "let's go."

one by one, the bridesmaids made their way to stand next to the groomsmen they were paired with. when y/n walked out with stephanie, auston couldn't keep his eyes from roaming y/n's body. the dress fit her so well and her hair was styled perfectly.

'is she not wearing any makeup? holy crap. i don't think i've ever seen her wear any. has she been this perfect the whole time?' he found himself thinking. he shook the thought from his head and took his spot next to her.

"damn, matthews. you really clean up well, don't you?" y/n nudged him with her elbow and he was suddenly at a loss for words. "what's the matter? cat got your tongue? no funny remark?"

"no. sorry." he let out a breath. "thank you for the compliment. you, um, look really good too."

"i know i do." y/n smirked. "but thank you. that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"it can't be." auston looked at her and ran through their history in his mind. "okay. maybe that's true. and i'm sorry for that."

"you are forgiven, matthews." y/n watched as the pairs in front of them made their way out to where they needed to be. she linked her arm up with auston's, wished stephanie good luck and followed the man outside. they stopped at the end of the aisle and went to their designated locations. "you look great, mitchy." she whispered to mitch before taking her spot.

the music started and everyone stood up. when stephanie and her dad walked out, y/n glanced over at mitch. she had only seen him cry twice before in the few years she had known him. this was the third time she had seen tears in his eyes. he tried to hide it but when he looked over at y/n, he smiled.

as the minister went through the normal ceremony, auston kept looking over at y/n. she was watching the interactions between stephanie and mitch so intently, wiping away a tear or two every few seconds. auston was in complete awe of her.

at the reception, stephanie and mitch had the traditional first dance and when that was over, auston was more than eager to make his way to the dance floor. he and y/n took their places and began to dance

as they moved to the music, y/n looked up at auston.

"have you been practicing on your free time?"

"no, i swear. maybe you just make me a better dancer." he shrugged and moved her around the dance floor effortlessly.

"what's gotten into you tonight, matthews?"

"i think it's all the love in the air." he smiled.

"never would've pegged you for a romantic guy. no offence."

"none taken. i didn't expect it from myself either honestly." he spun her around a few times and when the song ended, so did their moment.

everyone else came to the dance floor to do their thing and y/n walked to the table to sit for a minute. stephanie was sitting beside her with a smile.

"auston is so into you."

"no he's not."

"oh please. i heard what he said before the wedding started. he was genuinely complimenting you. there was no hint of lying in his voice."

"he claims it's the love being in the air. i don't know what else to tell you."

even as y/n spoke those words, she couldn't bring herself to believe them. maybe stephanie was right and auston really was into her. she scanned the room and found him with mitch in the middle of the dance floor. they were having the time of their lives and y/n couldn't help but smile.

auston could feel someone watching him so when he looked up and locked eyes with y/n, he winked at her. she turned away shyly and sipped her drink. he thought it was cute.

y/n could feel her cheeks heating up and she hated it. she didn't like the way auston was suddenly making her feel. looking down at her now empty glass, she decided to blame it on the alcohol in her system, and as auston put it, the love in the air.

halfway through the reception, y/n was beginning to really feel the alcohol. the thing about that was it made her act differently and her voice of reason flew out the window whenever she drank.

as she downed her drink yet again, she found herself making her way to where auston was leaning against the wall. he noticed her approach him and he finished his drink.

"hey. what are you doing all alone over here? you should be having some fun. trying to pick up a girl or two." y/n giggled. why did it feel like her stomach was in knots?

"honestly, nobody here is really catching my eye." his eyes roamed the room before landing back on y/n. "might just call it a night."

"no don't." y/n sounded too eager to get him to stay so she backtracked her outburst. "i mean, it's your best friends wedding and you're the best man. you can't leave." y/n shyly looked down at her shoes.

"okay, i'll stay. but first, you gotta tell me why you hate me so much."

"what are you talking about? i hate you because on the night we met, you decided right away that you didn't like me."

"what gave you that impression?" he chuckled dryly.

"you were grumpy and it was very obvious you didn't want to be there. you put no effort into getting to know me. but i don't understand why you were grumpy. you scored the game winning goal in overtime, not to mention you had the only hat trick the entire game. that should've made you a little happier. you were so good that night. i remember telling steph 'wow. that matthews kid is really good.' like i was very impressed. and then we met and i thought you were really cute. but you had to ruin it by opening your mouth."

"you thought i was cute?"

"why do you hate me?"

"i don't. never did. i jsut really didn't want to be put on a blind double date. i hate blind dates."

"i hate them too. and i was only there as a favor to steph."

"i was only there for mitch. he was telling me during practice that he thought he met the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he wanted me to meet her & make sure she wasn't a serial killer or crazy in anyway."

"and look at them now. kinda crazy how they both knew right away, huh?"

"yeah. but i think it's sweet." auston looked down at her and smiled. forgetting for a second that he hated her. "i'm really happy for them though. they're good for each other."

"i agree." y/n grabbed a glass off a passing waiters tray and drank half of it in one gulp.

"do you think you'll find the person you want to spend your life with?"

"i'd like to think i will & i'm hoping it's soon. but with my luck in love, it'll probably never happen." y/n sighed. "how about you? think you'll meet her soon?"

"honestly, i think i may have already met her."

oh. well that's good." y/n looked down at her feet. "wanna dance? reception's almost over and i feel like we should get at least one more dance in, just to make the newlyweds happy." she gestured to their right where mitch and steph were dancing. they waved and danced away.

"sure. what harm can it do?"

the two of them walked out onto the dance floor and just as they were getting into the beat of the song, it ended and a new slow song started. y/n froze and looked at auston. he grabbed her hands and placed them where they needed to be before he guided her across the dance floor.

they locked eyes and it suddenly felt like they were the only people around. to everyone but them, it was obvious there was an attraction between them.

when the song ended, y/n stayed with her arms around auston's neck as they swayed back and forth.

"so there's really nobody here that catches your eye?" y/n asked, bringing up part of their earlier conversation. she played with her thumbs behind his neck and one of them wrapped itself in a curl that was loose.

"actually, now that i've thought more about it, there may be one."

"wanna point her out? maybe i can talk you up to her."

"red dress, dark hair that's half up half down with curls, no makeup because she's literally perfect and doesn't need it. she's so perfect but she's dancing with the hottest guy here. i can't compete with that."

"one of those things describe steph. she's not wearing a red dress though, nor does she have dark hair. however, i am dancing with the hottest guy here."

"i know." auston smirked and twirled her around. when he pulled her back, he was holding her tighter. "you look so beautiful right now. and not just tonight. every night since the night i met you."

"auston, are you drunk?"

"maybe a little. but i'm coherent enough to know what i'm saying and i'm sober enough to tell you that i mean it."

"auston, please don't lie to me."

"why would i need to lie to you?" he looked down at her and y/n searched his eyes for a sign of him lying. there wasn't one. "i've always thought you were beautiful. gorgeous even. out of my league for sure. and i'm genuinely sorry that i never really said anything about it."

"please don't apologize. i wasn't exactly the nicest person to be around so that must've made it difficult for you."

"difficult, yes. but worth it? totally. 100% worth it."

"do you think that if mitch and steph hadn't dragged us both on that date that night, then maybe we would have a different history than the one we do?"

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, if they had invited us to a group thing instead and that's how we met, do you think that we could've been friends these last few years?"

"for sure." auston smiled. "and maybe, if we had been friends and i asked you on a proper date, you could've said yes."

"i think i would've." it was y/n's turn to smile. "but hey. we're both still young and have plenty of life left to live. why don't we go out tomorrow night?"

"that sounds like it could be fun." auston chuckled. "and just to be clear, it'll be just us, right? no one else."

"yes. just us."

"great. i'll pick you up at 8 then."

"it's a date." y/n smiled as auston spun her around.

the following night, y/n was getting ready for the date when stephanie facetimed her.

"oh, who you getting ready for?"

"believe it or not, i'm going on a date with auston."

"oh my god. finally!" mitch cheered from the other end of the phone. his face appeared on the screen and he was sporting a large smile. "i'm so tired of hearing him pine over you."

"you're exaggerating, mitchy." y/n shook her head. "how's the honeymoon you guys?"

"it's perfect. thanks for the suggestion." steph was back on the screen. "and thanks for agreeing to take care of zeus while we're gone."

"of course. i love zeus." y/n smiled and looked at the dog, whose head was resting on y/n's lap. "who's the bestest boy? you are. yes you are."

"have fun on your date, sweetie. make sure to tell me everything afterwards."

"always. see you guys later." y/n hung up the phone and finished doing her hair. "which dress should i wear zeus?" she held up a yellow dress and zeus tilted his head. she then held up a blue dress and he barked. "thank you, zeus." y/n changed quickly and looked at herself in the mirror. "what do you think?"

zeus barked and tilted his head.

"you're so cute." y/n grabbed her purse and walked to the door when she heard a knock. "okay, zeus. i'll be back in a few hours. there's plenty of food in your bowl and your treat ball is filled so you should be fine."

y/n opened the door and auston handed her a small bouquet of orange chrysanthemums, her favorite.

"how did you know?"

"i remember you telling mitch one day that you loved chrysanthemums and how your heart would be complete if someone ever gave you the orange ones specifically. i didn't know what the different colors meant but i did some research shortly after that night and i've wanted to give you a bouquet of orange ones ever since. delicate love, right?"

"yeah. exactly." she ventured into the kitchen to grab a vase and filled it with water. "i can't believe you even remembered that. i told him like 4 years ago."

"i know. um, you may not believe me but i had a list of all your favorite things. i don't have it now because i memorized it but i figured i'd let you know."

"auston, this is so uncharacteristic of you. but i appreciate the attentiveness. no guy has ever done anything like this for me before."

"i know. it's unfortunate but you deserve it. you deserve someone who is willing to treat you like a queen. someone who can't get you out of his head, even if he tried. because you are so perfect, it's crazy."

"auston?"

"hmm?"

"stop talking." y/n smiled and pecked his lips. "you are so sweet, matthews."

"hold on just a second." he kissed her again but this time it lasted longer than a simple peck. she wrapped her arms around his neck and his found a place resting gently on her waist. auston was the first to let go of the kiss but they were both smiling from ear to ear.

"no guy has ever kissed me like that before. wow." y/n smirked.

"well all the other guys have been really stupid. and i'm not ashamed to admit that i'm part of that list."

"you're also a lot smarter than all the other guys i've been interested in." y/n's hand reached up to rest against his cheek.

"has anyone ever told you how perfect you are?"

"you did last night while we were dancing." y/n smiled and looked into his eyes. "and for the record, you're pretty perfect too."

"does that mean we're....perfect together?"

"corny joke aside, i think we might be."

"good." he smirked and kissed her again. their date was pretty much forgotten at this point as y/n pulled him through her apartment and into the living room.

auston sat on the couch and held y/n's hips as she straddled him. she looked into his eyes and felt herself getting lost in them.

"just so you know, i never bring a guy home on the first date."

"i know. and technically, if you count the blind date when we met, this is technically our second date." he smirked in response.

"it was a disaster and i feel now that our relationship has crossed the friendship line, we should just forget about the night we met."

"deal." auston smiled and they sealed their deal with a kiss. several kisses to be exact.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691 @carolinalikesthings

#auston matthews #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews fic #nhl #toronto maple leafs #mitch marner #william nylander #morgan reilly

144 notes · View notes

misshoneyimhome · 2 months

Note

Omg pleaseeee Don’t Blame Me - “For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind.” With Auston Matthews

Babe, say no more 😉🤍

You know, this idea actually popped into my head a while back for a potential series, but I never got around to writing it down… 🙃 Anyway, I thought it might fit this prompt, even though it doesn't contain all the details 😉

Just to give you a heads up, though, the plot is mainly about cheating, which might not be everyone's cup of tea... but you know, it definitely adds some drama to the story! 🔥

I hope you enjoy it 🤍

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Short summary; When, you, the poised wife of a hockey executive encounter the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs, your attraction sparks a tumultuous affair. However, as you navigate secrecy and guilt, will you choose to embrace your forbidden love or face the consequences?

Warnings & tropes; Secret affair (cheating); briefly enemies to friends; friends to lovers; sexual content - unprotected sex (p in v);

Word count; 4.2K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Don't Blame Me - Your Love Made Me Crazy I Auston Matthews 🖋️⚡️🔥

The cool air of the ice hockey arena surrounded you as you navigated through the busy corridors of the Scotiabank Arena. Dressed in a smartly tailored suit appropriate for your role as the wife of one of the investors for Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment (MLSE), you projected an aura of confidence and sophistication. This was now your domain, where the game meant more than just a sport—it was a business, a passion, and a way of life.

However, amidst the crowd of players and staff, one figure stood out—Auston Matthews, the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs. His presence seemed to demand attention, his demeanour exuding a blend of determination and intensity that mirrored the game he played.

However, like many drama stories, your interactions with Auston began on a less than pleasant note.

In his eyes, you were nothing more than a wealthy socialite who had married into money, and he treated you with scepticism. Likewise, you saw him as an arrogant athlete whose focus rarely extended beyond the hockey rink.

And whenever you found yourselves in the same vicinity, the tension was palpable as the two of you exchanged wary glances, each assessing the other with thinly veiled suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" Auston inquired, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity as you crossed paths in the arena hallway.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinising gaze, feeling defensive at the implied judgment in his question. "I'm here to support the team," you replied evenly, masking the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

Auston's lips curled into a smug smirk. "Ah, of course, because I'm sure you're a huge hockey fan," he retorted sarcastically, his words laced with disdain.

You felt a surge of indignation, his words implying more than just a casual insult, igniting a flame of resentment within you. "Surprisingly enough, some of us care about more than just the final score," you retorted sharply, your sarcasm thinly veiled.

Auston's smirk wavered, a flicker of surprise evident in his eyes. "Really?" he responded, his tone almost disbelieving. "And what exactly is it that you care about, apart from mingling with the players?"

You bristled at his dismissive tone, rejecting the notion that you were merely another wealthy socialite seeking amusement. "I actually hold a degree in sports psychology," you countered defiantly, a touch of defiance in your voice. "And I'm here to contribute my expertise to the team, whether you appreciate it or not."

Auston's demeanour softened slightly, a glimmer of genuine interest replacing his earlier scepticism. "Sports psychology, huh?" he pondered, his tone less mocking. "That's at least something."

And surprisingly, you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes at his thinly veiled compliment, opting instead to concentrate on the task at hand.

It was evident that many of your initial encounters with Auston had been less than ideal, and as he departed, leaving you standing in the hallway, you couldn’t help but scoff at the conceited forward.

Yet, fate had a peculiar way of intertwining lives. As you delved deeper into the nuances of sports psychology, armed with your education and expertise, Auston gradually began to take notice. He witnessed first-hand the subtle yet profound impact your insights had on the team's dynamics, and on their performance both on and off the ice.

And one evening, following an especially demanding practice session, Auston remained behind, his expression a blend of frustration and curiosity. "So, what's the deal with all this psychology stuff anyway?" he inquired, his tone more earnest than accusatory, as he joined you in the locker room while the others continued their workout in the fitness room.

You paused, deliberating your response before replying. "It's about understanding the mind, Auston. How it influences our performance, our reactions, our ability to collaborate as a team."

Auston raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't deny feeling intrigued. "And you actually think all that mumbo jumbo can help us win games?"

You couldn’t help but smile slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes as you regarded the confident player before you. "I believe it can make a difference. Sometimes, it's not just about physical skills—it's about mental resilience, about finding that extra edge when it matters most."

Auston appeared to gradually grasp the significant role you had come to play for the team, offering you a simple nod before departing, leaving you to your work.

And as weeks passed, you found yourself engaging in more frequent and in-depth conversations with the player, as he began seeking your advice not only on the ice but also off it.

"Hey, uh, mind if I pick your brain for a bit?" he'd inquire, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his mouth, meeting you in one of the small offices, unofficially designated for your use.

And amidst the whirlwind of strategy sessions and pre-game routines, an unexpected bond began to form— a bond that was an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent understanding that there was more to the connection between you and Auston than initially met the eye.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, your presence within the Leafs' inner circle became more prominent, and you found yourself deeply involved in the team's daily routines, from pre-game rituals to post-match analyses. And with each interaction, the bond between you and the players, including Auston, strengthened.

Yet, despite your efforts to maintain professionalism, your communication with Auston had a natural way to evolve into something more personal. You weren’t entirely sure why, but the Arizona boy simply had a knack for breaking down your defences and gradually entering your personal space. And you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it.

For weeks, you shared laughter and began to build inside jokes, slowly blurring the lines between professionalism and friendship.

And, when Auston's banter veered into flirtation, it began to test the boundaries you had established. His playful remarks and charming smiles eroded the walls around your heart, tempting you to yield to the allure of something forbidden.

Yet, you remained resolute in your commitment to your marriage, brushing aside the enticing temptation that Auston represented. But beneath the mask of indifference, a storm brewed—a conflict between duty and desire, loyalty and longing.

And Auston, perspective as ever, began to detect the turmoil simmering within you, as he observed with sharp eyes as you navigated the delicate tightrope between professionalism and personal restraint. In those fleeting moments of vulnerability, he glimpsed the fissures in your facade, the unspoken yearning concealed beneath the surface.

Then one evening, the atmosphere at Mitch’s restaurant was vibrant and animated, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the air as the team gathered for their post-game revelry. Auston felt drawn to you once more, his steps leading him to where you sat at the back of the room, encircled by the familiar faces of his teammates.

Taking a seat beside you, Auston's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than usual, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that caught you off guard. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me," he gently whispered in your ear, his voice soft and sincere, so no one would hear.

You tensed at his words, the earnestness in his tone stirring something within you. "I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at," you responded, a touch of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

But Auston's gaze softened, his expression filled with empathy as he reached out to you. "I can see that you’re not happy y/n – that you’re trapped in a marriage that you don’t really want," he said gently. "You deserve to be with someone who wants you, who treats you good."

His words hung in the air, their weight sinking deep into your consciousness. For in Auston's eyes, you glimpsed a reflection of your own longings, mirrored back to you with striking clarity.

“You don’t understand…” you attempted to explain, your voice faltering as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“What don't I understand?” Auston probed, his gaze unwavering as he sought answers in your eyes.

“Marriages aren’t always simple…” you offered weakly, struggling to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

“I know, but there should still be love,” Auston countered, his voice resolute yet gentle.

“I do love him, Auston…” you insisted, the words tasting bitter as they left your lips.

But Auston didn't relent, his gaze piercing as he posed a question that struck at the heart of your conflict. “Are you sure? Then why do you feel attracted to me?”

The question lingered; its weight palpable between you. And for a moment, you grappled with a response, torn between the truth of your desires and the promises you had made.

But with a heavy heart, you instead rose from your seat, making a distance between you and Auston a painful reminder of the boundaries you dared not breach. And as you joined the captain a few paces away, the night progressed, the team's laughter and camaraderie serving as both a comfort and a poignant reminder of the unspoken connection that bound you and Auston.

A week later, you found yourself accompanying the team on the road, a suggestion made by the coaching staff who had recognised the importance of your insights, especially in the wake of several consecutive losses. With morale low, your role had become more crucial than ever before, as each player sought to unburden their concerns and frustrations, seeking your guidance to chart a path forward, and you willingly provided a sympathetic ear and professional perspective.

However, one player didn’t approach you until after the official work hours had concluded.

In the dimly lit hotel room, elongated shadows danced across the walls, accompanied only by the soft hum of the air conditioning unit. You reclined on your bed, attempting to ease your mind, yet the players’ worries weighed heavily on your thoughts.

Then a sudden knock shattered the silence, startling you, and with a slightly racing heart, you approached the door, cautiously turning the knob to reveal Auston standing outside, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation.

"Hey," he greeted brusquely, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Can we talk?"

You simply nodded, stepping aside to let him in, as a sense of unease gnawing at you. And as Auston entered the room, his movements were deliberate and tense, his eyes burning with emotion.

"We lost again," he began, his words sharp and succinct, as he stood in the middle of your room. "And I can't shake this feeling that it's all my fault, that I've let the team down."

Your heart went out to him, a wave of empathy washing over you as you gently approached him. "It's not only your fault, Auston," you reassured him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "You're an exceptional player, one of the best I've seen. Sometimes, things simply don't go as planned."

Auston's gaze softened a little, his defences weakening in the face of your understanding. "I know," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "But it still sucks, you know? Knowing that I could've done better, that I disappointed everyone."

You slowly drew a little closer to him, the atmosphere thick with unspoken emotion. "You're not alone in this, Auston," you murmured softly. "We win together, and we lose together. That's the essence of being a team."

And for a moment, a heavy silence enveloped the room, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders. Then, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, Auston leaned in towards you, his lips tenderly brushing against yours in a fleeting caress.

You almost froze, panic coursing through your veins as you swiftly pulled away, your heart racing. "Auston, we can't," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Confusion clouded his features, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Why not?" he demanded, his tone tinged with anger. "Don't you feel it too? The connection between us?"

But a form of shy anger seemed to surge within you, mingling with hurt and betrayal. "Of course, I do," you retorted, your voice slightly escalating. "But that doesn't change the fact that this is wrong…"

Auston's gaze hardened, his resolve unwavering. "I can't do this – you’re fucking with me, and I can’t take it," he declared, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "I thought... I thought there was something real between us, but maybe I was wrong."

The hotel room suddenly felt oppressively small as unspoken words hung heavily in the air. You watched as Auston turned to leave, his footsteps echoing on the plush carpet beneath him.

"Auston, wait!" you called out, desperation seeping into your voice, prompting him to halt, his shoulders stiffening at the sound of your plea.

"What now?" he muttered; frustration evident in his tone.

"I... please don't leave like this..." you trailed off, the words catching in your throat.

Auston turned back to face you, his expression a blend of confusion and frustration. "y/n.. I don't get you! What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice tinged with exasperation.

And tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. "I don't know... I just... I just don't want-" you started, your voice trembling with emotion.

But before you could complete your sentence, Auston closed the gap between you in a single stride, his lips crashing onto yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. His hands firmly cupping your face to keep you close. The world around you faded as you surrendered to the embrace, the intensity of his touch setting your senses ablaze.

And in that moment, as Auston's lips met yours in a sudden surge of passion, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions engulfed you. Shock, desire, and a hint of desperation swirled together as you melted into his arms, his touch igniting a flame of longing and desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

All the doubts and fears that had haunted you seemed to vanish in the heat of the moment, replaced by an overwhelming rush of raw emotion and unspoken longing.

However, as you succumbed to the overwhelming rush of passion, a voice in the depths of your mind whispered warnings of the inevitable consequences, the fallout of giving in to forbidden love.

So reluctantly, you pulled away, your breaths ragged as you searched Auston's eyes for understanding. "We can't continue like this," you whispered, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

Auston's expression softened, his gaze locking with yours in a silent plea for forgiveness. "I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't seem to help myself, y/n. I want you."

Guilt tugged at your heartstrings, torn between longing for something more and the weight of impending consequences. "I want you too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. "But I can't bear to keep hurting the people I care about."

Auston's shoulders sagged in resignation, the weight of your words settling heavily upon him. "I know," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "But I don't know how to stop."

And in a moment of vulnerability, as you teetered on the edge of something forbidden and perilous, you knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and obstacles.

“Me neither,” you whispered softly, before pressing your lips fervently against his.

It was a heated, passionate exchange where you surrendered to your deepest desires, allowing raw, primal lust to take control. And as your fingers tangled in his hair, Auston's hands found your lower back, using his size to guide you towards the bed.

The urgency of the moment was palpable as you both hastily shed the layers that separated you, consumed by an overwhelming need for each other. Your lips remained locked in a fervent embrace, only parting briefly to discard clothing, and as Auston eagerly explored your mouth with his tongue he positioned himself over you on the bed.

Hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring every inch of soft skin offered, and you couldn't help but notice Auston's member growing firmer with each deep breath and moan exchanged between hungry kisses.

The atmosphere in the small hotel room grew thick with desire as your moans reverberated, the air heavy with anticipation. And as Auston used his hands to pin yours above your head, you felt the tip of his throbbing length teasing your entrance.

“Auston,” you moaned, the urgency in your voice betraying your growing need for more than just his lips. “Please, make love to me.”

And without hesitation, he obliged.

With determined thrusts, he entered you, filling your depths with his length and stimulating your walls with each movement.

Your moans intertwined as he rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, his motions gentle yet impassioned as he explored every inch of your sensitive flesh.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good around me,” he praised you in a husky voice, his breath hot against your neck as he increased his pace.

And you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure of Auston's length inside you. The way his thick cock caressed every part of your sensitive core, the tip of his length hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, leaving you seeing stars.

Then releasing one of your hands, Auston placed his between your heated bodies, finding your clit and circling it with skilled precision. And his actions brought you nothing but closer to the brink of an orgasm. The pleasure of climax built within you, intensified by Auston's increasing thrusts and his expert touch on your sensitive bud.

“Yes, Auston, please, I’m close,” you moaned, your voice harmonising with the rhythm of his thrusts. And with a few more moments, you finally closed your eyes, arched your back, and cried out his name as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Your mind clouded with sensation as Auston maintained his steady rhythm, feeling his own climax approaching as you tightened around him. And with a swift motion, he released his grip, pulling out momentarily, eliciting a soft sigh from you, before forcefully turning you over onto your stomach and re-entering you.

You let out a surprised moan as he filled you once more, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room.

“Oh, yes,” Auston moaned between heavy breaths, his thrusts growing increasingly intense. And as the pressure built within him, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer, releasing a deep grunt as he spilled his seed into your depths. As he emptied himself inside you, the two of you released deep breaths and sighs, slowly emerging from the euphoric haze of climax.

It was a moment suffused with intense passion, yet as Auston left your room, you couldn't shake the feeling of needing a long shower to wash away the sense of dirtiness and filth that lingered.

As days melted into weeks, the tumultuous dance between you and Auston persisted, fuelled by a potent blend of desire, guilt, and longing. Despite the rational voice of conscience clamouring within you, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

Each stolen moment with him ignited a fire within you, a blaze of passion that consumed your every thought and desire. The thrill of the forbidden, the danger of being caught—it only added to the allure, heightening the intensity of your shared experiences.

With every win and every loss for the team, the bond between you and Auston deepened, transcending the confines of reason and morality. It was as if the highs and lows of the game mirrored the highs and lows of your illicit affair, each victory a triumph of desire, each defeat a bitter reminder of the forbidden nature of your love.

Naturally, guilt lingered at the edges of your conscience, a constant reminder of the vows broken, and trust betrayed. Yet, in Auston's arms, all thoughts of remorse faded, replaced by a desperate yearning for solace, for an escape from the wreckage of your marriage.

He had become your drug, and you found yourself hopelessly addicted to him.

Nights at the Scotiabank Arena became your sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of your crumbling life. While your husband immersed himself in his work and business meetings, you sought solace in the arms of another. With each passing night, the boundaries between right and wrong blurred until they were mere echoes of a reality long forgotten. In the darkness of Auston's bedroom, you found moments of pleasure, fleeting ecstasy in a world torn apart by deceit and desire.

But even as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of your forbidden love, a nagging voice whispered in the depths of your soul—a voice warning of the inevitable reckoning, of the price you would pay for your transgressions.

Yet, in the heat of passion, such concerns faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the rush of adrenaline, the overwhelming need for the man who had become your addiction, your obsession, your everything.

Yet, on another night, you found yourself back on the side-lines of a match, then lingering in the locker room after all the players had departed. All but one.

The locker room was dimly lit, heavy with the scent of sweat and anticipation as Auston's lips met yours in a fierce, desperate kiss, his hands exploring eagerly over your body as he lifted you up, pressing you against the cold, hard surface of the wall. Caught up in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of desire, your senses consumed by the intoxicating taste of his tongue, the feel of his strong arms enveloping you.

And as the kiss deepened, the world around you faded away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsing between you. His lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, his hands tracing urgent paths over your bottom.

"Shit, I've wanted this all day," Auston murmured against your lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment, every touch igniting a wildfire of longing within you. "Me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

However, unbeknownst to you, your husband had chosen this night to attend a game, seeking to understand why you had been so consumed by your work with the team for months. And as he stood just beyond the threshold, silently witnessing the betrayal unfolding before his eyes, the truth dawned on him.

But lost in the heat of passion, you were oblivious to his presence, drowning your guilt in the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

It was only later, upon returning home, that the full weight of your betrayal crashed down upon you.

The air between you and your husband was thick with tension as you faced each other, his accusing gaze weighing heavily upon you. His words pierced the silence like a knife, each one carrying the sting of betrayal.

"How could you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with pain and disbelief. "How could you betray me like this?"

You tried to speak, to offer some explanation for your actions, but the words failed you, suffocated by guilt and shame.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all along? Sleeping with hockey players behind my back?”

And in that moment, as the reality of your actions sank in, you knew there was no turning back, no undoing the damage. As silence enveloped you both, a chasm of pain and regret widened between you, leaving behind only the shattered remnants of a love that could never be repaired.

With the final signature inked on the paper, the reality of your separation loomed ahead, and despite the uncertainty of what lay beyond, you held onto the belief that it was the right decision.

Love for your husband had faded long ago and clinging onto a hollow semblance of a relationship felt unjust to both of you.

So, as each party fulfilled their obligations, you found yourself at a crossroads, uncertain of what the future held. But one thing remained clear: you needed to discover if Auston's feelings mirrored your own.

Then with a heavy heart and nerves frayed, you made your way to the condo where you'd shared your deepest desires, and as Auston greeted you with a concerned gaze, he feared the worst as he noticed your sorrowful expression. Perhaps you were here to end things, to focus on rebuilding your marriage, he thought.

However, as the words left your lips, a sense of relief washed over him.

"It's over, Auston," you managed a soft smile, despite the tears in your eyes. "My marriage is over."

And in that moment, Auston realised the depth of his feelings for you. The fear that you might not want him, only to be met with the revelation that you had chosen him.

“Finally.”

With love swelling in his heart, he welcomed you into his home, embracing the freedom to love you openly.

As you found solace in his arms, the weight of the past dissolved, leaving only the promise of a future brimming with love and possibility. Entwined together, you faced the uncertainties ahead, fortified by a love that conquered all obstacles.

#my asks #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl hockey imagine #auston matthews smut

169 notes · View notes

nylwnder · 2 months

Text

polaroids

a/n: happy third smutty fic drop and happy valentines day (2 days late) <3333333333 pls enjoy this self indulgent daddy dilf captain fic cause i wanted to defy the odds and write for him cause im THAT slut!

pairing: john tavares x wife!reader

warning: SMUT, use of camera during sex, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, lotus position, creampie, voyeurism, polaroids being found, mom!reader, mention of his kids (because they are the cutest)

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @shoot-the-puck , @11livpangburn , @domi-max , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay , @fallinallincurls , @andrea9

series masterpost

the polaroid slowly spills out of the camera before you grab it to put it on the nightstand.

your husband turns to fully look at you and you face him with a giggle. he was standing on the opposite side from the bed as he was trying to undress from his suit. “mm, didn't know i was on camera” he mumbled, with a smile.

“you can't expect me to not feel a type of way with you in that suit.” you say, moving yourself closer to him, your legs dangling off the bed.

it was the first weekend in a while where the kids were at your parents’ place. so john took you out for dinner to one of your favourite spots.

“plus i haven't used this thing in so long,” you mentioned, turning the camera to see how many polaroids you have left. “nine left”

john grabbed the camera out of your hands, putting it to his face in order to take a picture of you. you were still wearing the dress you put on for dinner. “its only fair.”

the camera clicked again and a polaroid slowly etched its way out once again. the picture developed and soon showed you sat with a perfect smile on your face. your husband smiled at the photograph.

“why stop there?” you stated more so than anything, but kept a soft voice. john looked at you and you watched him back, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. it was a thought you have had in your mind once or twice.

he set the camera gently aside. grabbing your arms to stand up with him. he reached for the zipper on your back and the material fell off you in a second, revealing a black babydoll slip dress you had on under. john grabs your dinner dress and throws it onto the bench that sits at the end of the bed.

you both break into a smile, as you wrap your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to him as his hands travelled down your body, squeezing his favourite parts. soon his hands scoop you up and your legs habitually wrap around his torso as you don't break the link between the two of you.

that is until john drops you onto the bed. your hair sprawls out on the bed sheets as a frame around your face. your lips are plump from your kissing and your face is blushy. the lace slip laying delicately on your skin.

flash shined through the room as another polaroid was placed on the nightstand.

you sat up to kiss john again, your hands exploring his chest as more than half of the buttons from his shirt were already open. he catched your lips and your body already felt so hot.

laying back down, john pulls your legs forward so that the plant of your feet sits on his folded knees. that only meant your slip dress ruffled up, making your husband have a perfect view of your matching underwear. a wet spot was slowly forming on the thin material and you felt slightly embarrassed. he hasn't even done anything to you, you thought.

you've been with john for basically half of your life, which only means he has seen you in multiple different situations. he knows his effect on you and your growing wetness brings nothing but a smile to his face, every time. even if he's barely touched you. it's a compliment if anything else.

so why not take a picture, he thought.

you blushed, even more heavenly now. its impossible to even try to feel embarrassed with this man, you thought. though, your body was more so waiting for john to take away the thin separation between him and your core.

so when his fingers hooked on the band of your underwear, rolling them down your legs and discarding them to the side, you couldn't help but let out a little whine.

john took a deep breath as he looked at your dewy cunt. but instead of touching it himself, he took one of your hands and sucked two of your fingers in his mouth. your own mouth opened just a slight and your clit throbbed as you watched him. his eyes, which are looking at you, are far darker now.

“touch yourself, darling.” john demanded, keeping the camera close to reach.

following his words, your wet fingers made their way to your pussy. collecting your own juices and playing with your clit before teasing your hole. john watched closely, his one hand holding your leg apart from the other.

you let out small moans as you worked yourself like you have for years. but you couldn't help but look at your husband in front of you, begging he was the one to bring you to an orgasm next. and the stroking of your fingers was enough to start building a tent in john’s dress pants.

he kept licking his lips as you etched yourself closer and closer. feeling the coil in your stomach near to snap, you threw your head back while biting your lip once again. your fingers deep in your pussy jt took another picture.

by the time john put the film aside you began bringing yourself down from your high. removing your hand from your dripping folds, your husband was quick to close the gap between the two of you. moaning in his mouth as his tongue slipped in between your lips.

pulling apart for air you gave john room to leave kisses along your jaw and neck. moving downwards, as he moved your small dress upwards, your body gave a shiver as his lips kissed your cunt. though the touch so soft you barely felt it, not with the fire burning inside you as he watches you with amorous eyes.

“johnny…” you whined softly, your face with a needy pout. quite honestly, nobody has made you ache between your thighs more than the brown eyed man right below you. you're just grateful he’s your husband, so you can have him at your full disposal.

a subtle smirk appears on john’s face. “of course, angel.”

his head leaned on your inner thigh, taking in the sight of your glistening, dripping cunt once again. a sight he will never get sick of. he slid just one finger in between your wet folds, splitting you open in order to rub the tip of his finger against your clit. your hips chased the friction immediately.

but he was quick to open you up with his mouth and you whimpered and twisted at the delicious feeling of his tongue flat on your pussy. he kissed and nipped gently but firmly, devouring you like a man starved from dinner, despite having eaten your cunt more than the two of you can count.

this time you felt the pressure in your lower belly build easily. faster than with your mediocre fingers. “so close” you murmured with an arched back.

“let me taste you, darling. want to taste that sweetness of yours.”

his lips laying kisses near your entrance as he spoke, his tongue began to move in and out. grabbing the camera from the side, you figured you'd get in on the photoshoot.

its only fair.

moving your free hand to lightly tug on johnny’s hair, you snap a picture before your moans overtake you and your orgasm washes over you.

john catched every drop of your nectar before gracing your cunt with some more kisses. tugging for him by the waves of his hair, he makes his way back up, wrapping his arms under you to pull you up to his lap. reaching for his lips, you grind down at the bulge that sat under you.

you earned a moan from the man, doing it again just to hear the sweet vibrations in your ear.

getting up and pulling him with you, you begin to untug the button up from john’s pants. swiping it off his broad body, it falls to the floor behind him. your hands explore his skin, following the lines of his shoulders down to his stomach. leaving baby kisses over his collarbone, your finger lightly lines his snail trail. so featherlike, you receive a shiver from john. your hands are quick to work his belt and the zipper of his dress pants. yanking them down, your lips connect for a kiss.

you slowly drag his boxers down as you move with them. kneeling on the soft carpet that surrounded your bed, you look up at john. sharing the prettiest of doe eyes, a whine escapes your lips as your hand wraps around his length. red at the tip and thick, aching for a release of his own.

“wanna taste too” you ask, so gently, so innocently against his cock.

“taste all you want, honey.” he replies, filled with an admiring yet anticipating look.

you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, savouring the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take in his full length and you both let out a moan.

you lick from the base to the tip repeatedly. then bringing your focus back to the head of his cock. quickly, you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls.

“fuck, sweet girl. just like that.” he moans out as his hips buck, forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a slight before adjusting yourself and returning back to your pace.

this is like muscle memory to you, but regardless, you would do anything to see his face scrunch in pleasure and his groans fill the room.

and to hear your name fall off his lips.

which he does as you deepthroat him once more, with teary eyes as you squeeze his balls again and moan for his release.

before he does, he reaches for the camera and catches you looking up at him through your eyelashes. cheeks flush and lips slick with spit around his cock.

he hums in enjoyment as the film is placed to the side once again.

“mm you ready to swallow me up, darling?”

“yes”

“every drop?”

“every drop.” you say with a kiss to his tip as your hands begin to work his length.

it wasn't long before his twitches freed the warm seed in your mouth, looking up at john as he watched you gulp it down.

cleaning off a drop from the corner of your lips, he makes you suck his finger before squeezing your soft chin.

“that's my good girl. always so good for me, huh angel?”

you smile. “mhm” you say, pushing him down on the bed by straddling him again. this time your pussy had full access to his bare thighs. buff and hard, you always stared, even in his blue joggers. and especially when he sat down, all sprawled out, fitting both jace and ax on either leg. rae on his chest.

the father he was, so kind and gentle. so patient and caring. supportive and protective.

he was everything you could ask for and more.

he made it easy. even if he wasn't around sometimes, but when he was, you were at total repose.

his hands ruffled up your slip to tug it off and over your head. “need to see my beautiful wife” he says softly. your bra was equally discarded, john smiled as your breasts sat perfectly in front of him, all for him.

laying on his back he reaches for the camera again by the pillow. he puts it up to his face and the flash shines once more, your bottom lip caught in your teeth slightly. “so gorgeous.”

he sits back up and pulls your hips closer, your nipples rubbing against his chest hair. you whine out gently. his hands cup the curves of them as your hands play with his hair. he leaves warm kisses on the crook of your neck, down to your collarbone and back up to your lips.

you roll your hips habitually, the base of his cock swiping your clit just for a moment. “let me feel you john.” you plead, mouth close to his ear. “i want to feel you deep inside me.”

john lifted your body up in order to slide his cock to your entrance. sitting down on the thick length, you let out a throaty moan. you’d been craving this the whole night. your legs wrap around his waist, putting the both of you into a sitting position with his cock tucked in you.

“feels so good” you breathed out.

“you hug my cock so well, darling.” john says, as you move slowly.

you both shared long, passionate kisses as you continued to gracefully move your hips. the feeling of him deep in you is already enough to get you somewhere.

john loves this position since he can roam his hands over your body and lock his lips with yours with such comfort and ease. but most importantly: watch you fall apart while his cock is hitting the best places inside of you.

whispering sweet things in your ear, john begins to rut his hips upwards. with his movements, he starts penetrating further up against your g-spot, causing you to whine and squirm in his touch.

“that’s it, sweet girl”

he kept his thrusts steady and firm. you were soon being bounced on his length with the help of his strong thighs and arms. “fuck johnny” you yelped, hands on his shoulders for support and your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. his head is in between your breasts and sharing some grunts against your shiny skin.

your moist walls naturally squeeze around his length, but you could feel his twitching as the two of you moved in unison.

“cum for me angel. let it all drip down.” john dictates, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you let your hips ride out the fire within you. you rolled them, swayed them, as john still pumped into your core. not soon after, with the way your breasts bounced, and how your moans echoed in the room, his own release found home inside you. the warm feeling, so familiar and so comforting.

as you fell back on the bed, john got up and slipped out of you. you closed your legs but you whined at the void.

“let me see” he says softly, using his palms to spread your legs apart. your conjoined cum began to slip out of your pink pussy. john couldn't help but groan at the sight, your head still a bit high.

“quite lewd don't you think?” he says with a smirk, as he clicked the camera button.

he pushed the seed back in with his fingers, as deep as he could go. you whined and arched a bit at the sensitivity. “need that all tucked in there.”

“feel so full”

“good.” you smile at his words.

you took the camera from his hand, “one left.” he nodded his head in your direction, letting you know you could use the final one.

you looked at his body for a bit, and took your hand to lightly scratch down his chest to his stomach. your eyes tracing his v-line, as his cock slowly began to soften. you kept your hand on his torso as you brought the camera to your face with the other. making sure to check that you capture just enough of him — what you would want to see when the bed is empty.

the click projected the last polaroid from the film cartridge. you sat up, john reaching for the pile he had made of you. you grabbed them, reviewing them with a blush across both of your faces.

“you better hope nobody finds them.”

—

william wasn't a nosy guy. per say. but when he was handed john's wallet, from the captain himself, he couldn't help but notice the bright white bottom frames sticking out of a slot. the more he moved the wallet to grab the card, the more they tried to slip out.

after securing their purchase, and beginning to walk off to the direction of the table, willy kept his head down to look at the wallet in his free hand. john found him on the way, “everything good?” he asked which, startled the blonde, resulting in the drop of the wallet.

and the polaroids all together.

“shit im sorry man” willy said, going down to help grab the fallen articles. john stood still.

despite the fact the light was dim, it was enough for the swede to see who and what the photos were about. he couldn't help but stay eyes wide as he handed the pile and the wallet back to john. william was rarely fazed, or nervous, but this got him.

he was a little surprised to be faced with a smirking john, but nevertheless he apologised again.

“is that um-”

“y/n? yes will, its my wife.”

he nodded along as they walked back to the table. his eyes caught you as you sat with a wide smile talking with the other wags and guys. he didn't want to think of you, his teammate’s — let alone his captain’s — wife, like that but he couldn't help but feel an affinity for you now.

john sat down beside you, arms wrapping around your frame quickly as he kissed your temple. you turned your head to look up at him, giving him a peck on his lips. “come to the bathroom, angel.”

your body tensed at his quiet words, his hand rubbing your arm. “need to feel you. right now.” your legs pressed hard together, giving a light nod, anticipating what was to come.

[ enjoyed reading? join my taglist! : click here <3 ]

254 notes · View notes

chaotickryptonitetree · 4 months

Text

do you think you'd miss me (a lot or a little) | joseph woll

something about his saving-himself-for-marriage-ish charm has bewitched me and made me feral. its hot but not smut...sorry in advance. it's long

...

You knew what this would become as soon as it started. Or maybe you just knew yourself too well. There was no doubt in your mind that your older neighbor would become slightly more than your older neighbor soon enough.

Even on move in day–when you first saw him–you knew. You ran a hand through your hair as sweat fixed your tanktop to your stomach, box resting on your hip. He barely looked at you, only long enough for you to take in the icy blue of his eyes. You pursed your lips as he stepped in, hanging up the tail end of a phone call. Part of you wanted to introduce yourself right away–instantly add some intrigue to your new city life. But you were patient. There was no need to rush. The fun was in the chase anyways.

One of the first things you noticed was that he was just so sweet. Like, disgustingly so. Always chatting with the doormen and holding open the door for Ms. Johnson down the hall and playing with the kids who lived on the second floor while their mom regained composure in the elevator. Unequivocally good.

Perhaps it was that goodness that first drew you to him–desperate to find something off, something wrong. Or perhaps it was how he looked, if you were honest.

He was tall in a way that made you wonder if he would fit into the elevator when he first stepped into it, not lanky but not intimidatingly large either. He just looked comfortable–mobile and warm and cozy? There was always a twinge of a blush on his cheeks and on his nose, and his bright blue eyes only ever seemed to glisten with a terribly, relentless kindness. It was overwhelming, the good kind–like the sigh of relief after a crisis averted.

But you probably were causing the crisis. He was quiet–not to everyone, though. He had no trouble with other neighbors or the kids or the staff of the apartment building. But when it was just you two in the elevator, he grew quiet. Not even a nervous quiet or a judgemental quiet–just quiet, like he didn’t have anything to say (which might’ve been worse). After the first time you had been in the elevator with him, he pushed five without asking–just as you had memorized that he lived on six. He would hold the side of the door so it wouldn’t close, give a cordial smile, and that would be it.

And it wouldn’t even be a big deal if he wasn’t so out-of-his-way lovely to everyone else. There was a fascination associated with him–for whatever reason. He became “hot neighbor” to your friends who slept over or heard you talk about him, and for a while, he stayed just that–hot neighbor. Someone to whisper about as soon as he was out of earshot. Someone to ogle in the lobby before class.

But then you got a little impatient. A little tired of his sleepy smile in the lobby in the morning. A little–fed up, maybe–with his toothy smile for the doorman as he helped put up the ornaments on the top of the christmas tree in the lobby. Eyes got a little bit restless when you’d walk into the elevator and find him in a suit and a winter coat–hair mussed from the wind. He practically forced your hand.

…

“What’s your name?” You asked bluntly one evening after he had pushed the buttons for five and six. The elevator made a whirring sound on the way up. He turned around slightly to face you and tilted his head, a little surprised at your question. You feigned indifference, picking at your nails.

“Joseph,” his voice was deeper than you had expected, but not deep in a heavy, gravelly way. Just smooth. Steady. “And yours?” He asked politely as the doors opened to your floor.

You didn’t answer, just walked right past him as he held the doors open. He didn’t fight you–and while the act of immaturity probably should’ve made you feel more like a kid around him, it didn’t. Maybe you were too concerned with his name rattling around your skull to think too deeply about it. Joseph? Joey? Joe? You realized that no name felt right when it came to him. He was definitely too pretty for a normal name like Joe, you decided as you turned the key in the door. The empty apartment greeted you unceremoniously.

…

The next time you saw him, you weren’t expecting to. It was usually too late for him–too late for you as well–but finals week called for longer nights in the library. You smiled at the doorman and fixed your glasses, sweat set suddenly feeling warm in the heat of the lobby. The elevator dinged and you held onto the straps of your backpack, walking faster. “Hold the door, please!”

A deft hand reached for the door and it was probably not a good sign that you recognized him from his knuckles alone. But there was probably no one else in the entire city who had working hands as pretty as his. The corners of your mouth lifted to a smirk as he wordlessly pressed the button for five. You zipped up your coat, tucking your chin into the collar–feeling…shameless, almost?

“Late night for you, huh Mr. Joseph?” His tired smile was wonderful enough to make you feel grateful that you gripped the railing in the elevator. He nodded silently, blushy from the cold. You weren’t about to let him off so easily. “Tired?” You pressed, eager for more of his undivided attention.

He squinted his eyes as if to decide how to respond, and smiling easily, he nodded again. “It would be Mr. Woll,” he began, left hand reaching up to rub his eye adorably. You tilted your head, trying to stay focused despite everything about him. “If we were going to be technical with it–Woll is my surname, so it would be Mr. Woll.” Your smirk widened.

“And do you want me to call you Mr. Woll?” You teased, suddenly less tired. His blush deepened as he shook his head slightly.

“No, I think Joseph is just fine,” he offered pleasantly. You feigned contemplation for a moment.

“Okay, J, I’ll keep that in mind,” your eyes darted up to ding of the doors opening on your floor.

He laughed a polite little laugh that stirred your stomach. “I’m too old for that nickname, I’m afraid, sweetheart.” The name lit you up from the inside out.

“How old are you?” He held the doors open for you as you asked.

“25,” he answered honestly and smoothly, despite not getting any information out of you, he didn’t seem to mind answering your questions.

You turned on your heel and put your hands on your hips, found him looking at you kindly with sleepy eyes.

“Not too old in the ways that matter, Mr. Woll,” you winked at him indulgently and walked toward your apartment, hoping you’d dream of blue eyes and blushy cheeks.

…

A few days later, you waited for your uber in the lobby of your building–not feeling desperate to escape the warmth of the lobby and venture out into the cold prematurely.

Holiday music wafted through the room sweetly, kissing the high ceilings and swirling around the christmas tree near the desk. A dull press into the cushion of the couch directly next to you pulled you from your comfortable observation. You turned your head just slightly to take him in.

He crossed his ankles, leaning back against the couch to mimic your positioning. His smile was sheepish, persistently kind. “Hey, how’s it going?” He offered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You leaned back further, looking up at him with a smirk.

“Oh I’m great, Mr. Woll, thanks so much for asking,” he shook his head, meeting your gaze by peering down at you.

“You’re really going to make me regret that, aren’t you kid?”

“Don’t call me kid,” you wrinkled your nose–secretly loving how it sounded when he said it. He leaned closer to you slightly, teasingly.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to call you that if I knew your name,” he said lightly. How could you deny him now–when you could smell his smokey cologne and fresh, clean aftershave? Closing your eyes for a moment, you sighed loudly.

“Oh fine Joseph, but only because you’re begging me,” he tried to look at you sternly but you could tell he was excited to finally know your name as you told him. He leaned into his hand, propped up on the back of the couch.

“And how old are you? You’re a student, right?” He smiled into his palm, knowing he was pushing his luck as his words tumbled out too fast.

You rolled your eyes, but nodded, head lolling back on the couch. “21, and I’m a student, yeah,” you felt a little embarrassed being so close to him, being younger, but it was a weird, nice, kind of embarrassing. And something told you that he knew what he was doing.

“Look at us, neighbors getting to know each other,” He leaned away from you slightly, eyes shimmering with content. Your phone buzzed, uber finally outside. He stood up first and offered you his hand–which you took with a smirk. “Where are you headed tonight?”

You tried not to notice how warm his hand felt, or how it covered yours entirely. “Just a party, nothing crazy,” you shrugged. He took a step back and walked you to the door, opening it graciously.

“Oh right, I forget kids your age actually have plans on Thursday nights,” his laugh was light and airy, mixing with the jingling of the holiday music. You hit him on the chest good-naturedly.

“Kids my age?” You mocked facetiously. “I’m four years younger than you, Joseph,” you scoffed into the freezing air between you both.

“Don’t I know it,” he finished vaguely, retreating back into the warmth of the lobby, leaving you to hop into your uber, wondering what he meant.

…

When you returned home late that night (technically, very early into the morning), you were pleasantly drunk–enough to be able to walk just fine, but where you felt flush and just a little warm, easier to laugh, easier to smile maybe.

It only made sense that he was in the elevator when you just slightly stumbled into it. Your laugh was probably too loud for the space, but you couldn’t help yourself as he pressed five.

“Of course it’s you,” you grinned childishly, “it’s too late for you, Joey!”

He grinned right back at you, so sleepily you could’ve sighed. His sweatshirt looked cozy and smelled of fabric softener, pajama pants rolled just into his socks.

“You’re right about that sweetheart,” he yawned into the back of his hand. “Did you have fun?”

“Mmm,” your nod was immediate, “m’a little drunk though.” He smiled kindly. He was so handsome then, you realized as you cocked your head to the side.

“I can see that,” he laughed, white teeth gleaming. “You warm?” He let his eyes drop down to your exposed collarbones, flushed and red–but seemed to catch himself and met your eyes again sheepishly–realizing that he didn’t have any excuse as to why he said that. Unable to break eye contact, you nodded slowly, stepping away from the wall.

“Yeah,” your words came out as more of a sigh, “wanna feel?”

He shook his head quickly, hair sticking up in haphazard directions. You took a step closer, emboldened by the alcohol enough to not stumble in your heels. “No? Really?”

He rested his head on the wall of the elevator, looking up. “Really,” he concluded, to which you pouted.

“But you look so soft right now, Joey,” you bit the corner of your lip, “maybe I wanna feel you.” He looked down, finally meeting your eyes as you stood right in front of him. He wore his emotions easily, beautifully on his face. Tired. Conflicted. Entertained…almost?

He didn’t say anything, probably for fear that he would get in trouble. Instead, he opened up his arms–allowing you to step into his personal space and wrap your arms around him too. This–to him–was safe. A hug was safe. For now.

You buried your face into his chest, breathing him in. His body was solid, arms wrapped around you tightly enough to make you exhale into his sweatshirt. The bell dinged, the door opened, and you craned your neck up, chin resting on his chest.

His blue eyes peered down to meet yours–calm and clear. “Hi Joey,” you giggled, too enamored with the feeling of his arms around you to care.

“Hi,” he smiled wide, untethering himself from your body and ushering you gently onto your floor. To your surprise, he walked you out of the elevator and down the hall, warm palm resting comfortably on your lower back, thumbing rubbing circles softly into the fabric of your coat.

You leaned into his side, breathing deep and level. “I’m 512, on the right,” you whispered into his shoulder, sleepiness catching up with you. You felt him nod, hand coming up to pat your head lightly.

“We’re here sweetheart,” he whispered into the air above your head. You fumbled with your key, opening the door as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You coming in?” You asked softly. He shook his head bashfully.

“Not tonight,” if he was trying to feed into your delusions, it was working. You leaned into the doorway, not ready to say bye just yet–would you ever?

“Okay, J.” He took a step back, about to turn around.

“Call me if you need anything,” he hesitated, “I put my number in your phone already.”

“You sly dog,” you moved to close the door, “thanks for everything Mr. Woll.”

“And here I thought I was making progress,” he joked, backing up toward the hallway. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You waggled your fingers at him mockingly and watched him walk with his hands in his pockets back to the elevator. Just before he stepped in, you called after him.

“Joey!” He smiled as he faced you a final time, knowingly. You brought your palm to your lips and blew him a kiss. His smile deepened as he reached up to catch it, bringing his fist to his heart and tilting his chin down. Thank you, he mouthed as he soundlessly stepped into the lift.

You closed the door and slid down the surface, slipping off your heels and pushing them toward the doormat. Your cheeks felt warm for a different reason than just a few minutes before. Every interaction with him was like a gulp of hot chocolate–indulgent and sweet. He was making this a lot more interesting.

…

The following morning, you awoke to a slight headache and a twinge of embarrassment about the night before. Whatever game you were playing–at this point you weren’t totally sure–was sort of contingent on him viewing you as a legitimate option. You couldn’t imagine him viewing you as anything other than an irresponsible college student after last night.

thank you for taking care of me last night :) you texted him, dull light from the screen casting over your face.

No need to thank me. I’m glad you had fun! His response was immediate and grammatically correct, making you feel immature even through the phone. You tossed your phone to the side and got ready for the day. Distracted yourself by throwing on an outfit and doing your hair–only to be interrupted by a crisp knock on your door. Sliding the lock open, you opened the door just slightly, peering through the crack. His smile was embedded in your eyelids at this point, but it didn’t make it any less lovely.

“Good morning,” he offered, almost taller than the door frame.

“Good morning,” you parroted, “now that you know which apartment is mine, should I expect you knocking more often?”

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. You both seemed to be doing that often. Embarrassing each other. It was too easy. “Well you shouldn’t, but you might” He shook his head a little sadly at your pout. “Wanted to see y–see that you’re okay.” Your delight in his slip up was painted over you like a full face of makeup.

“M’okay. You’re too nice to me, you know,” you opened the door further, crossing your arms over your chest. He shook his head again.

“Just trying to be a good neighbor,” he hesitated at your disbelieving expression. “I remember how hard it was being new to a city all by myself, it helps to have someone you can trust–someone who knows the ropes.” You might’ve physically swooned at his words. Endlessly kind.

“Thank you,” you responded simply, because there was nothing else that really encapsulated how much that meant to you. But there he went again with his dimples creasing his cheeks and the knuckles of his hands slightly red from use and his hair always messy and you just had to be a little bit of a menace–just for a second. “Did Ms. Woll approve of your late night last night?” Your eyes practically shimmered.

“No–no, there’s no Ms,” he stumbled over his reply, grasping for a suitable answer that wouldn’t lead you on. You willed surprise into your expression.

“Really? How?”

“How?” He laughed, however forced it was, “Just busy, I don’t know, not a priority right now.” You wore your disbelief like a medal–emboldened by the prospect of winning.

“They must be throwing themselves all over you though, right Mr. Woll?” You brought a hand to your neck, feigning shock. “Someone as handsome as you, kind as you,” his blush deepened as he looked anywhere but your face and clavicle. “Must be dying to make you their husband.”

“Apparently not,” he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “But that’s okay with me,” he said unconvincingly.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Really? You don’t want someone to come home to?” He knuckled one of eyes slowly, bashfulness egging you on. “Someone cooking dinner for you in the kitchen? Someone to yell ‘Honey! I’m home?’ to?” His disapproving smile was fake, and you could tell.

“You talk a big game about marriage…Think I haven’t seen your tinder boys in the elevator the morning after?” You gasped–delighted that he was finally playing along.

“Joseph! How could you possibly know that those boys are coming from my room!”

He just shook his head at your incredulous expression. “Call it a lucky guess,” he feigned disappointment, clearly delighted. “Or maybe it’s their magical glow,” he teased. You hit his shoulder playfully.

“Hey! If you want that “magical glow,” so badly, just ask,” you winked.

“Gonna get me in trouble, sweetheart,” there was a slight groan in his voice–a slight strain. It was delicious. The silence between you both felt heavy–charged, almost. You practically melted into the doorframe.

“That’s the goal, Joey,” your voice was lower than you wanted it to be, his eyes flitted back up to meet yours. He raised his eyebrows–hopefully?

…

After a particularly stressful day at the library, you practically felt you were seeing double, glasses pushed up on your forehead. Tired eyes, tired mind, the world almost felt in slow motion. You drowsily pressed the button for your floor, nearly unable to keep your eyes open.

You made your way down the hallway and got out your keys, fumbling with the lock and cursing under your breath.

You felt him behind you before you heard him. “Breaking in, are we?” His tone was teasing as he reached for his own key. Your eyes flitted to the plaque next to the door–612, not 512. You groaned as he reached over you and opened the door, chest practically pressed to your back.

You leaned back onto his shoulder, the curve of your cheek slotted into where his collarbone was. “Long day,” you offered, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent. He smiled down at you, the column of his throat working beautifully as he let out a rumble of a laugh that you felt in his chest. He felt so comfortable–maybe that was why your eyes darted down to his lips for just a second.

Just long enough for him to notice. Long enough to feel his struggle of an exhale. You brought your gaze back forward.

He cleared his throat. “Want some tea before you go to sleep?” He offered kindly. You nodded as he gently pushed you into the doorway.

It smelled like him–making you fight the urge to breathe in audibly. He took your bag off of your shoulder and hung it on the hook by the door.

“Looks familiar,” you turned toward the noise in the kitchen. Everything just screamed him. It made you smile to yourself as you wrapped your arms around yourself–shamelessly snooping. “But I like yours more,” you entered the kitchen to find him boiling water.

“That's nice of you,” he said to no one as he opened the cabinet to get the teabags. You could’ve watched him forever. “Feel you staring at me, sweetheart,” he turned over his shoulder, smiling broadly in the dim light.

You couldn’t even fake being ashamed of being caught. “Just look pretty, s’all.” Your response was honest as you sat at a stool while he poured water into mugs and let the tea steep.

He chuckled under his breath, leaning against the counter top–taking you in. You pretended to look innocent, head in your hands. Everything about this place was comfortable. Home-like. The idea made you smile. He passed a mug to you. It read “World’s Best Dad,” in block letters. You raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t tell me that you’ve got kids, Mr. Woll…” you trained off, letting your gaze drip down his tall frame. “I mean, I can see it.” You took a sip of your tea. Peppermint. “With your advanced age and all.” He laughed, leaning back.

“Easy,” he warned, a large hand wrapped around the mug. “No kids–just an inside joke with a few buddies of mine. I like their kids so much that they call me Dad too.” He laughed at your expression.

“You like being called that?” His face was dark with shadows of the day. He took his head in his free hand.

“Easy now, kid,” he warned again lightheartedly. Cleared his throat.

“What’s the hardest part about life in a new city?” He was good at changing the subject. You let him.

“Hmmm,” you considered his question. “Probably just having to do a lot by myself,” you answered honestly. “I like alone time but since moving here it hasn’t been a choice–more so like my only option.” He made a face that made you backtrack. “I have my tinder boys and my school friends–sure–but it can get a little lonely,” you felt sheepish, hiding your face in your elbow.

“That’s quite the undertaking, kid,” paused for your rejection of the name, but continued when he realized you were too tired to care (and you still liked when he called you that), “but you’re capable. And trying your best. Relationships take time–allow yourself that, at least.” He took a sip through a smile. “I see you giggling with your friends in the lobby,” he admitted. “Those school friends will become real friends, just you wait.”

His words were a sedative, calming any worries you had carried with you for the day. He had a habit of doing that. “We’re probably giggling about you, if m’honest,” you hid your confession behind your mug. He raised an eyebrow, prompting you to continue. “Oh please. You know how you look.”

He laughed, embarrassed. So pretty it hurt. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t be vain, Joey,” you rolled your eyes, “you’re ‘hot neighbor,’ they could giggle about you and your baby blues all day,” you smirked.

“I suppose ‘hot neighbor’ is better than ‘old man Woll,” he tried to laugh it off, steam from the tea dancing around his long lashes.

“So,” you set your cup down, smacking your lips. The kitchen smelled like a lavender candle freshly blown out. “Hardest part of your city boy lifestyle, hit me.” He considered; thoughtfulness looked beautiful over the freckles on his nose.

He shrugged noncommittally, a small smile painting his lips. You scoffed, refusing his non-answer.

“Come on, Mr. Woll,” you whined, “don’t tell me you don’t get a little lonely in this big city. No wife. No kids,” he gave you a pointed look, “of your own,” you amended. She just shrugged again. It felt a little like trouble, sparking up your throat.

“And no tinder boys,” you joked, pouting, “unless you’re extremely sneaky,” you raised an eyebrow. He shook his head.

“No, no tinder boys for me. No tinder at all–M’not on your apps,” he admitted. “Too old.” You laughed at the blush dusting the tops of his ears.

“You’re not that old,” you answered honestly. “Maybe you should make an account…” you wanted him to bite. To refuse. To be upset. Something different. But he just smiled his sweet smile. So you kept going.

“You’d do well enough on them. Women would eat up this good guy thing you’ve got going,” he frowned,” And you have to know how handsome you are.” You set your mug down and pushed up from the stool, daring him to answer.

He met your gaze–seemingly against his better judgment. The muscles in his jaw worked slowly. Heat seemed to radiate off of him in waves as you ventured closer. He almost looked in pain, blue eyes pouring into yours.

“Do people tell you that enough?” You feigned innocence, closing the gap. “Tell me.” You stood right in front of him, looking up through your lashes. “Please,” it came out as a whimper.

He brought a warm palm up to your face, thumb skimming over your cheekbone. So gently it made you pout. He was so sweet–even now. How badly you wanted him to break. “‘M too old for this,” He shook his head a little sadly, voice coming out as a whisper. It would’ve broken your heart, made you back off.

But you liked your game too much to forfeit now. Enjoyed making him blush a little too much. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips parted slightly.

“Too old for this?” You bit your lip. “For me?” He didn’t nod right away, making you smile. You still had him. In some weird, fucked-up way, you still had him. His eyes were dark, hands warm where they rested on your hips. The skin underneath radiated under his touch. “I know you miss it Mr. Woll, I can tell,”

He pouted adorably, full lips shiny with spit. You twirled a longer piece of hair around your finger, relished in the groan that just escaped his mouth. “Miss what?” His voice was gravelly, curious–not ready to give in to you, but also not ready to give up the game. It was too good. It was perfect.

“Miss having someone around, and not just a tinder boy,” you raised your eyebrow, teasingly, “miss having a soft, warm body in your bed when you get home from work, someone making coffee when you wake up,” you brought your lips to his ear delicately, “someone to fuck into the mattress after a long day.” His grip on your hips tightened–hard enough to bruise. You smiled up at him innocently, content with his response. You could feel his labored breathing with each rise and fall of his chest. It ruined you. “I know you want that,” you licked your lips.

“Tellin’ me m’pretty in my own home, callin’ me Mr. Woll,” he smiled down at you–was that a glint of trouble in his blue eyes? “Running that filthy mouth about some domestic fantasy,” he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug, crushing your nose into his solid chest. “You know what you’re doing to me,” a laugh rumbled through him. You could’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

“I know,” you smiled into his chest. “That’s why I do it.”

You could tell that he was smiling as he slotted his chin on top of your head.

…

love ya

#Joseph woll #Joseph Woll fluff #toronto maple leafs #nhl imagines #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl fic

247 notes · View notes