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haddonfieldwhore · 3 months

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guilty conscience - matthew tkachuk

flames!matthew tkachuk x draisaitl!fem! reader pt.2

summary: you and matthew continue to sneak around, and leon figures out that something is up

warnings: langauge, mention of violence, implied smut, continuity is questionable because i didn’t plan to write a part two 😅, unrealistic leon behaviour

word count: 3.3k (oops) part one is here

it wasn’t even a month before the oilers and the flames met again, this time at home in edmonton. calgary being in town meant that matthew tkachuk was in town, and you thought back to that first night you had found yourself tangled up with the rival teams player; and all the times after. the two hour drive never stopped him from texting or calling after a tough loss, inviting you over to help him let off some steam. this quickly turned into meeting up to celebrate wins as well, and in the short few weeks since your first meeting, you felt as if you had spent more time in matthews bed than your own.

“are you gonna be at the game tonight?” he asked as he got dressed, staying at your place rather than a hotel; he would be sleeping there anyway.

“yes, but i am obligated to cheer for the oilers as long as my brother is on their team,” you laughed. leon had gotten you tickets for the game like he always did, the two of you having made up only a few days after the incident happened. however the thrill of sneaking around with matthew hadn’t worn off, even though you were no longer doing it to get back at your brother.

“how much would i have to pay you to wear my jersey to the game?” he teased, wrapping his arms around your waist as you pulled your t-shirt over your head.

“more money than your contract,” you replied. “if the crowd didn’t mob me, i think i’d be disowned by my family.”

matthew placed a kiss on your lips with a smile, and you fixed his curls that you had spent the last half hour tangling your fingers through.

“that’s too bad. you’d look hot wearing my number.”

“i wouldn’t look hot in the body bag they’d have to carry me out in. nevermind if leon found out why i was wearing it. you’d be in the back of the hearse with me.”

“as fun as that sounds,” he joked. “i have a game in a few days so-“ you interrupted him with a kiss.

“don’t worry. i’ll secretly be cheering for you,” you smiled. “you’re more fun to hang out with when you win.”

“hey,” he warned with a chuckle. “i gotta go, but i’ll meet you here after the game? we probably shouldn’t leave together…”

“you’re probably right. it’s already suspicious enough that you told the team you were staying with a friend instead of at the hotel with them.”

“is it so hard to believe i might have a friend?” he laughed, putting his shoes on to leave.

“sometimes,” you joked. “good luck,” you smiled as he snuck out of your apartment, shaking your head as you began to get ready to go to the game.

•

despite you wishing him good luck, the game went in favour of the oilers, this time the flames falling to edmonton in a 1-0 loss. at one point calgary had scored a goal to tie the game but it was waved off for interference.

your eyes met matthews on the bench, and you could tell he was frustrated as he slid his mouthguard back over his teeth. after the game ended, you went to meet up with leon backstage, the edmonton player in a significantly better mode than the last time you had seen him. he greeted you with a hug, and you returned it with a smile, but a sinking feeling sprouted in your stomach.

“hey, it’s good to see you,” your brother smiled, and you smiled back.

“you too. good game,” you commented, the words tasting funny in your mouth as you realized you didn’t mean them; and part of you wished calgary had won.

“yeah, a little bit of payback is nice. to bad we couldn’t get a few more goals, but i’ll take it,” he laughed. payback, you thought; that’s what matthew had been.

you weren’t sure that’s all it was anymore.

•

another month went by, the season nearing the midway point now. you scrolled through your phone as you waited for matthew to get out of the shower. you had spent the last few days at his house while the flames played a five game homestand, winning all but one; which meant matty was in a good mood going into the third matchup between the two alberta teams this season tonight. a message popped up on the screen, and you bit your lip as you replied to your brother.

you hated lying to him, and you’d found yourself doing it more and more the closer you and matthew became. you couldn’t exactly tell him that you weren’t even in edmonton at the moment, instead two hours away after spending the week with a man he hated.

a man who you had fallen for; and fallen hard.

the man in question had the nerve to walk out of the bathroom in just a towel around his waist, hung low on his hips as the warm air rushed out of the bathroom and tickled your legs as you sat on the edge of his bed. he walked over and placed a kiss on the top of your head, quickly noticing your expression.

“what’s up?” matt asked, his eyebrows furrowed at the upset look on your face.

“nothing, it’s just leon.”

“did he say something to you?” he asked, his fist clenching slightly at his side.

“no, nothing like that,” you assured him as you looked up to meet his eyes, his gaze softening and his jaw unclenching as he relaxed. “i just hate lying to him about…”

“…us?”

“yeah. it was kind of fun at first, and now i’m just worried what’s gonna happen when he does find out. more so worried about what he’s going to do to you,” you admitted.

“come on, sneaking around is still a little bit fun,” he teased, and you managed to crack a smile. sometimes, you thought. “it’ll be okay, we will figure it out when we get to that point.”

“i don’t want him to kill you,” you said, taking his hand in yours, you fingers playing with his absentmindedly. “which is a real possibility-“ you laughed.

“i’ll be fine. come on, the guys might kill me if im late for the game.”

•

you were only thirty minutes through the two hour drive back to edmonton when your phone rang, leon’s name popping up on the screen. panicking slightly, you answered it, matthew glancing over from behind the wheel as your leg shook anxiously.

“hey, leon.”

“where are you?” he asked, no hello. not good, you thought, trying not to freak out.

“what?” you asked, hoping to find out why he was asking.

“where are you?”

“on my way to the arena,” that at least was true. “why what’s-“

“bullshit, your car is at home.”

“what - you drove by my house? why?”

“because you’ve been hiding something. why are you in calgary?” he asked, and your heart pounded in your chest. your phone location must have been left on by accident.

“i was visiting a friend-“

“without your car?”

“i got a ride - oh my god. you’re my brother not my dad, i don’t need to tell you where i am all the time.”

“why didn’t you tell me you were out of town when i texted you this morning?”

“not that i have to explain myself, leon, but i didn’t feel like typing it all out and i had just woken up.” with each lie you told, you knew you were burying yourself in a hole that was becoming harder and harder to dig out of.

“i’m not sure i believe you.”

“you don’t have to, but it’s the truth.” half true, you thought.

“if you say so.”

“whatever. i’ll see you after the game.” you hung up the phone and ran your hands over your face.

“i’m scared to ask…”

“he knows something is up,” you sighed. “i’m so dead. we’re both dead-“

“hey, just breathe okay?” his hand rested on your thigh reassuringly.

“we just have to be really careful.”

“baby, he’s gonna find out eventually. maybe it would be better if he found out sooner than later,” he suggested. in the short two months you had been with matthew, you weren’t sure exactly when it changed from just hooking up to something more. “unless you want to just stop and pretend this never happened...” he said, his jaw stiffening.

“is that what you want?” your heart beat sped up, but you breathed a soft sigh of relief as he shook his head.

“no, that’s not what i meant at all. as much as you might think i do, i don’t actually want to cause problems between you and your family,” he laughed, and once again you found yourself cracking a smile despite the situation.

“i like you a lot, matthew,” you admitted. “i don’t care what he says to me, he’s my brother and he’ll get over it. i’m just worried what he’ll do to you.”

“don’t worry about me. do you really think he’d be that mad that we’re dating?”

“…are we dating?” you asked for clarification. you’d never really discussed it.

“i mean .. you’ve been at my house for the last week. i kind of thought that made it clear that i want to be with you,” he shrugged with a smile.

“you do?”

“of course i do. did you think i didn’t?”

“i don’t know. maybe,” you laughed, and his hand squeezed your thigh.

“does that mean we’re dating?”

“yes, i guess it does,” you smiled, leaning over to kiss him softly.

•

you cheered internally for calgary as the game went on, sending matthew a smile as your eyes met his. the shared looks between you and the calgary flame didn’t go unnoticed by edmontons number 29, and he had to restrain himself from ramming matthew into the boards whenever they shared the ice. leon noticed how everytime the flames scored, matthew was looking for you in the stands. although you weren’t outwardly celebrating, you were happy the flames were winning. sure, leon would be pissed, but he could get over it.

you felt bad that once again, matthew had taken priority in your life over your brother, but you only wanted them to lose when they played calgary, so you didn’t feel too bad.

the game ended with calgary winning 5 - 2, and you tried not to look too happy as you waited for leon to get out of the dressing room. when he did, he was in a mood again, this time not because of the loss, but because of the way he had caught tkachuk staring at his little sister.

“hey,” you greeted him.

“hey. i’m sorry about how i acted on the phone earlier,” he apologized, greeting you with a hug that surprised you slightly. “you’re right, you don’t have to tell me where you are all the time.”

“thank you. i’m sorry about the game.” his face dropped and he shrugged, his eyes catching sight of a familiar head of curls down the hall. leon’s anger got the best of him, and he marched toward matthew and tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to turn around.

“i don’t know if you’re just trying to piss me off, but quit looking at my sister and focus on the game, yeah?” he warned, and matthew looked slightly confused, his eyes glancing to you as you shook your head behind leon. your brother poked his shoulder to gain his attention back. “don’t look at her.”

“maybe you’re the one who should focus on the game. remember which team won,” matthew laughed, and you could tell this was not going to end well.

“leon, just leave it. are you really gonna pick a fight with someone for looking at me?” you knew they didn’t get along, but this was beyond what you’d expected.

“when he’s a prick like this guy-“

“leon! enough,” you pulled on his arm. “let’s just go home before you do something you regret.”

“i wouldn’t regret it,” he said stepping closer till he was nearly face to face with matthew. you could tell that matt was keeping quiet for your sake, and you appreciated it as you stared in disbelief at your brother. he had never been this overprotective before, and you barely recognized him.

“what the hell has gotten into you? i’m sorry you lost but you don’t get to act like an asshole because of it. you’re making a scene.”

you stepped in between them, pushing leon back from matthew and putting some much needed space between them.

“why are you defending him?”

“why are you acting like this? you’re being ridiculous!

“why is he looking at you like that? why did he spend the whole game watching you?”

“who cares?” you argued, as you felt everything crumbling around you. leon glanced from you to matthew, who stood back and kept his mouth shut for your sake.

“who were you with in calgary?” leon asked, starting to connect the dots in his head.

“leon-“

“who. were. you. with?” he demanded.

“it’s none of your business who i was with!”

leon wasn’t listening anymore, instead staring a hole into matthew, who if looks could kill would be six feet underground.

“it’s not enough to be an jerk on the ice, you have to go and get with my sister just to piss me off?” leon took a step towards the younger man, your hands on his chest doing little to slow him down. matthew opened his mouth to speak, but you did first.

“it wasn’t like that leon,” you defended your boyfriend. “it was my idea.” leon stopped, looking down at you with wide eyes.

“tell me you’re joking right now-“ he spoke calmly, but you knew he was anything but calm, which made it even scarier.

“i’m not,” you said. “i went to him.”

“how long?” his jaw clenched as he stared at you, his eyes filled with hatred; for you or matthew you weren’t so sure anymore.

“it doesn’t matter - it’s not gonna change how much you hate me right now,” you said, hoping that he would just let it go. no such luck.

“how long?” he repeated.

“since november.”

“you’ve been sleeping with my sister for two months?” he yelled at matthew, his raised voice drawing the attention of a few other players from each team as they left their locker rooms. “and you-“ he poked your shoulder harshly. “you’ve been lying to me about it for 2 months? everytime you told me you were busy or had plans - you were with him?” he said, a disgusted look on his face.

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded as tears began to well in your eyes.

“why did you do it? why him?”

“i knew it would piss you off,” you said honestly. “after that game in november you were so rude to me, and i know it was wrong, but i wanted to get back at you somehow. but it’s not about that anymore, leon. i really like him.”

“were you ever going to tell me?”

“yes, i promise. i just knew how you would react-“ he scoffed, interrupting you.

“you mean how i would react to finding out that my little sister got with a guy she knows i don’t like just to make me mad?”

“it sounds really bad when you say it like that,” you looked down at the floor as leon laughed in disbelief.

“it sounds really bad? it is bad!” he snapped. matthew tried to send the few calgary players who had gathered away, assuring them that he was fine and he didn’t need their help. a few edmonton players lingered outside their locker room as well, aware of who you were and wondering what was going on.

“i’m sorry,” you repeated.

“i would expect something like this from him, but you? this is a new low. maybe you two are perfect for eachother.” leon began to walk away, and you called after him.

“please, leon. i know it was wrong, but it’s not up to you who i date.” he stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“you’re right,” he said coldly. “i just think it’s best that you stay away from me for a while.” your heart broke as you realized just how bad you had screwed up. “and get him out of my sight before i decide not to be so nice.”

matthews arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you watched leon walk away with his teammates, and you turned around to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head as you cried, your arms thrown around his shoulders.

“he’ll get over it eventually,” you sniffled. “thank you for not saying anything to piss him off even more.” he laughed, his chest shaking lightly as he rubbed your back.

“i try to be on my best behaviour,” he teased. the few flames players that had been lingering around came over to check on you and matthew, one of them you recognized as matthew’s friend sam bennett.

“best behaviour my ass,” he joked. “leave it to you to stir up drama with draisaitl.”

“hey,” matthew warned lightly, but you laughed.

“two draisaitl’s actually. leon is my brother.”

“that explains it,” sam said, patting matthew on the shoulder. “good work, genius.”

“it was a mutual agreement to piss him off, for the record.” matthew defended himself.

“well,” sam said, looking in the direction that leon had gone. “looks like it worked.”

matthew punched his shoulder with a laugh, and you felt a smile creep onto your face despite everything.

“you wanna come for drinks with us?” one of the other flames asked, and you looked at matthew for his answer.

“what do you say? you officially switching sides?” he joked, and you shook your head with a laugh.

“what the hell, sure,” you agreed. matthew smiled, kissing you softly as the guys cheered. you followed them hand in hand with matthew as you walked you to his car, a bittersweet feeling in your chest.

leon had reacted about as well as you thought he would, but he hadn’t killed matthew, so that was a plus. you just worried for the next time they played eachother; but that wasn’t for weeks. maybe leon would calm down by then.

the older draisaitl watched from across the parking lot as you laughed with matthew and his friends.

“i know it sucks that she lied to you, but she looks happy,” connor mcdavid offered. leon simply shot him a glare, and he didn’t mention it again as connor got into the car without another word.

he hated that he was right; you did look happy. eventually he would get over it, but it still hurt that you had gone behind his back specifically to get back at him; even if he had kinda deserved it.

you didn’t notice leon watching you as got into the car with matthew, his hand holding yours over the center console as you followed behind sam’s car to the bar.

“i’m suprised he didn’t punch you, so i suppose that could have gone worse,” you laughed half heartedly. “congratulations on the win, by the way.”

“he might just be saving it for the next game,” he laughed. “and thank you. i’m sorry.”

“i knew what i was doing, you don’t have to apologize. and as much as it sucks that my brother hates my guts right now, i still have a pretty cool boyfriend at the end of the day,” you smiled, and matthew brought your joined hands up to his mouth to kiss the your knuckles, his facial hair tickling your skin.

“does that mean you’ll wear my jersey to the next game?” he asked with a goofy smiled.

“don’t push it.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl players #real person fiction #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #tkachuk #matty tkachuk #florida panthers fic #panthers #leon draisaitl fic #draisaitl #leon draisaitl

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 10 months

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when my hands were caked with dirt at the foot of the grave, you loved me still; ask atrocity of me and see how i tremble with willingness at the sound of your voice.

mt19 x reader: everyone loves to be taken care of.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, oral sex/fingering (m on f, another exception!), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), kind of oral fixation (have you seen the state of that mouthguard), hair-pulling (bring back the curls), lots of praise and tension and all that nonsense, lots of talk about alcohol, also a lot of emotions! (be warned about those damn emotions! this one has a similar vibe to my qh43 og snakes one, i think), idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(long a/n: my favorites - when i tell you i got carried away (again). but how could i not, when mt19 could not even play in the final cup game because he broke the bone that protects his heart? when poetry like that calls, you have to answer. the playoffs inspired me, mt19 inspired me, enough that i created this fictionalized mt19 character that is basically a bunch of insecurities personified. and the other character is just more of those in bartender form (i loved my bartending years! but they gave me a lot to think about!). so, sorry. this one’s a little sad, sometimes. but you guys seem to like the sad shit, so i hope you like this. apologies if i get caught up in the theatrics, at times. we haven’t done a takeaway in a while, so here’s one - you deserve to be chosen and loved and taken care of because you’re you, not just because you’re around. on a less serious note, can you tell how infatuated i am with mt19′s tooth gap? yeah, i know, i made it too obvious, i need to relax. i got a couple okays on the princess name, so if you don’t like it, you should have said something. am34 is up next, i’m thinking some classic older brother’s best friend, we’ll see if the muses are kind to me. please let me know what you think, i think i’ve made it obvious that your interaction means everything. also you guys literally should have seen me trying to figure out the physics of fucking against a barstool, it was legitimately ridiculous. gif is not mine. sending so so so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. see you soon. be your own first choice.

meeting new people simply came with the job of bartending. new faces filtered in and out of your bar like wisps of fragrant smoke, most of the time too fleeting to truly remember, never mind get to know.

however, the first day he entered your bar, a peculiar feeling hovered around you: the feeling that you already knew him, deeply and personally.

of course, you recognized him and his small group of teammates from the games that constantly played on the screens above the bar, but this was different. you couldn’t quite place the reason behind the feeling, not yet.

he didn’t approach the counter right away, but it was a saturday night, a busy one, so you were constantly being pulled from one patron to another, barely noticing the passage of time as your hands seemed to never stop moving.

but at some point, there he was, sitting at one of your stools, looking at you like he had all the time in the world, a confident, just bordering on arrogant smirk slanting across his face. you didn’t have the presence of mind or time to appreciate the rest of him, not right now.

but you were paid to treat all customers the same. and at the end of the day, that’s what he was, at least then. just another customer on a busy, hectic night.

“what can i get you?” you asked as you mixed a drink for the party at the other end of the counter. your voice was steady, knowing, friendly, but only just.

his smirk deepened as he leaned forward. “all business for the princess, hm?”

your brow furrowed in confusion before you realized where the name had come from. you absentmindedly adjusted the plastic tiara a birthday party had given you earlier that night - the group of girls around your age had gushed about how delicious their drinks were, how you had made their night, how you just had to have it, how it would look so pretty with your hair.

they were sweet, and they tipped well, so you didn’t push the birthday girl’s hands away when she slid the crown from her head and onto yours, even smiling a bit at the gesture. it was hard not to smile at women being girls again, and you loved the opportunity to be apart of it.

“princess is my side hustle,” you said to him now, keeping your tone even as you poured the colorful drink you were mixing into two glasses.

he made a face that you couldn’t decipher before leaning on one of his hands. “well, listen,” he started, to which you raised a brow. you didn’t like being told to listen - you just did, it was something you were good at, and being told to made you not want to anymore. he nodded to the group he came in with. “my friends over there bet that i couldn’t get your number. want to help me prove them wrong?”

you turned to drop off the drinks before running his words over in your mind. you were hit on all the time, another part of the job. people were attracted to being taken care of, and it was your job to take care of them, which always led to some misunderstandings, some one-sided crushes, some regulars that tipped much more than they needed to.

but something in your stomach dropped at his wording. you didn’t like it, not at all.

“did they?” you asked, actually focusing on his face for the first time that night as you ran a rag over the counter. his eyes were blue, so, so, blue, and almost comically confident, unwavering. as was his smirk, his full lips so perfectly placed and practiced, not quite like a natural habit but more like a learned one.

and then there was the brutal cut of his jawline, only made more prominent by his scruff of facial hair. the way his hair curled over the tops of his ears, a youthful but not juvenile look. his long lashes, elegant nose, flushed complexion, it was a little too perfect, at least for you, right now.

all of his features together appeared more like a masquerade ball mask, not a real, genuine face. it was off-putting, this actor in front of you, the one you had seen on television so many times.

he hummed in affirmation, smirked deeper.

you sighed. “that’s too bad,” you said, to which he gave you what looked like his first genuine expression of the night - one of confusion. “i only give my number to people who ask for it because they want it.”

you had long ago learned your lesson about being the person someone spent time with in order to please someone else. it never ended well.

his brow furrowed in further disbelief, complete lack of understanding, maybe a bit of shock, but you only tossed the rag aside and grabbed a glass. “now, how about a drink?”

he didn’t respond for a second, searching your face for something, maybe an explanation, less probably a spark of remorse. you let him. you weren’t going to budge on this, not tonight, not for him.

he shook out of it, literally, a small shake of his head before the mask was back on, in full strength. “yeah, sure. just an ipa, whatever you’ve got.” he addressed you by the name on your name tag, an act you normally hated, but didn’t mind so much now, in his deep tone.

you gave a small grin as you filled a tall glass. “thank god,” you started. “after the million mixed drinks i’ve had, you might just be my favorite customer.” you set the glass down on a paper napkin in front of him, only meaning to meet his eyes for a second.

once you did, though, you did a double take, now trapped in his gaze, completely transfixed on the pure hope you found there, so devastatingly poorly hidden. this, this was genuine, no mask to be found. the innocent hope lit up his eyes, his face from within, exposing an almost childlike expression that had you so deeply intrigued.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice no longer oozing with arrogance but instead with something you knew well. unbridled wanting. hope, hope, hope. he might as well have the word please scrawled all over his face in thick marker.

you felt your lips curl up at this new discovery, this crack in his exterior that gave you a sense of deja vu. “yeah, matthew,” you said, a little slowly, letting the rest of the bar melt away for a second.

this moment felt hot, sticky, like you were both suspended in amber, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.

but moments don’t last forever, and suddenly one of his friends was slapping him on the shoulder, saying something loudly about taking too long. you weren’t really listening as you watched his face again harden into that confident expression.

he ordered a round for his friends, and the moment was gone, lost in the neon light, and you were soon pulled again to another patron, the chaotic rhythm of saturday night overtaking you again.

you didn’t see him for the rest of night, caught up in your work. towards the end of your shift, though, you happened to look up, towards the door, urged by some magnetic force, and found his gaze awaiting yours right before he walked out of the door.

a real face, a real look, unveiled and vulnerable, swimming with heat and hope and a million other dangerous things. an expression so true that you had to look away from it’s veracity, complete candor. when you looked up again, he was gone, and you assumed that would be the last time you saw him.

so, a couple nights later, deep into your shift, you almost dropped the glass in your hand when you turned and found him sitting on that same stool at your counter, looking up at you expectantly with those storybook eyes.

“matthew,” you said, softly in greeting, almost a question, confused at his presence, especially on a weeknight, without his teammates. alone, seemingly.

“princess,” he responded, an imperfect smirk playing across his mouth, revealing more teeth than he had the previous night - enough that you could see the gap between his two front, a little detail so beautiful you might have sighed.

“no crown tonight,” you responded, half smiling.

“it was never the crown,” he said, to which you gave a slight shake of your head. it didn’t hide your shy delight.

“where are your friends?” you prompted, slightly suspicious.

something that looked like hurt flashed ever so briefly across his eyes. “they’ll be here, princess, don’t worry.”

you shrugged. “wasn’t worried. just wondering why you’re here alone.”

your last word seemed to strip him entirely, lay him bare in front of you, completely vulnerable. you regretted it immediately, felt almost mean.

“but i guess you’re not alone, right? you’re here with me?” you gave him a smile, tried to will one out of him, too, half-succeeded. “ipa?” you asked, eager to bring this interaction back within the boundaries you were familiar with, ones you could control.

“whatever you’ll give me,” was his odd reply, one that had you scrunch up your face instead of reaching for a glass. “ipa works.”

your voice was laced with confusion. “i know it works. what do you want, though?”

again there was that child-like look in his eyes, veiled by a thin film of doubt, uncertainty.

and somehow you thought you knew what might have been holding him back. you shifted forward, leaned on your elbows, closer than you had been to him before. “what if i promise you’ll still be my favorite, hm? will you tell me then?”

you watched his gaze dip down to your mouth as you spoke, linger there before meeting your eyes again. not like you minded, much as you wanted. a spark of warning fired in your stomach. don’t get too close, it mumbled, you can’t fill anyone’s void.

unfortunately, it was hard to deny the utter satisfaction you felt when he looked at you like this - like you had wiped away all the bad things in the world.

but then hands landed on his shoulders, loud greetings between friends exchanged, ripping you both out of the moment.

“now i know why chucky wanted to come back here,” one of them said eventually, looking at you with a gleam in his eye you didn’t quite like. “i remember you, beautiful.”

“shame,” you said, “i don’t remember you.”

he put a hand over his heart like he’d been hurt, but his smirk was brutally arrogant, almost animalistic. “how about we make sure you don’t forget my name again, yeah?”

you rolled your eyes. “matthew, come get your dog,” you said as you grabbed a couple more glasses and began to pour the same drinks they had ordered the other night.

“you want me to start barking? ‘cause i will,” the persistent teammate pushed before turning to his side. “but it seems like you’re the one she’s got on a leash, matthew.”

you watched his face carefully as you slid the drinks their way, interested to see what would win out - the desire to maintain his mask around his friends or whatever was building between you two.

you bit your lip as you watched the internal struggle play out across his face, shooting a pleading look your way for a millisecond.

you decided to throw him a bone, put his friends in their place. “i meant to tell you. i put your game on yesterday,” you said to him.

“did you?” he asked, so blissfully hopeful.

“yeah,” you said, leaning forward again, letting yourself get a truly greedy look at him. “but i like you better in person.”

you reveled in how desperately pleased he looked by your admission.

“we were playing too, you know,” someone said, half laughing.

“were you?” you asked, a theatrically confused expression on your face. you shrugged. “don’t think i saw you. maybe i was distracted.”

one of his friends laughed. “don’t feed him, beautiful, he’ll just keep coming back.”

but you didn’t even look at whoever said the comment, instead completely locked in on matthew, and he on you.

“god, i hope so,” you said, barely more than a whisper, only meant for him.

just something you said, a true thing, and yet he did. every couple of days you would look up and there he would be, on that stool at your counter, looking up at you. sometimes his friends would come, and sometimes they wouldn’t, and on nights he was playing you would always put the game on the television where you could best see it, so you could best see him.

and despite everything he did, everything he said to you, which screamed longing and interest and want, you were surprised every time he came back. surprised that his interest in you didn’t wear off after the first couple indulgences, like it seemed to with everyone else.

but, then again, matthew struck you as the kind of person who could make a home out of anything, anyone - like the kids who would cry if someone tried to come into their treehouse, as if the magic of the place was defined by it being all for them.

sometimes this job made you feel like a building with a revolving door, so many faces fading immediately as they came into your life. it felt so good to have whatever this was, this constant, even if that warning voice tried to convince you it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last.

one night, when you put his away game on, he was picking fights, antagonizing the other team, all the while chewing on that abused mouthguard, which never failed to catch your attention, send a little shiver down your spine, make you wonder what those teeth would feel like on your bottom lip, your fingers, your neck.

this night, though, the officials had had enough, and handed him a game misconduct. he skated off the ice, into the tunnel, chants and boos echoing through the arena so loudly that even the television cameras caught their strength.

still, when the camera focused in on matthew’s face, there was nothing but that cocky, knowing smirk, that one that he had showed you the first day. that fake one. you narrowed your eyes at the tv, felt your stomach turn at the fact that he could be two people at once. how could you ever trust him that way? how could you ever believe that he really, truly, wanted you? that warning voice compressed into a lump that settled in your stomach.

the lump was still there that next night, and so was he, there in his usual spot, right before you were about to close. “missed you, princess,” he said, those blue eyes so full of meaning.

and you hated how those words meant so much to you. “yeah?” you asked, wiping down the counter. “what’d you miss?”

you expected the answer that so many people in your life had given you before: how they liked how you made them feel, how you paid attention to them. nothing about you, rather something that said more about them.

so you were stunned when his gaze dropped to you lips and stayed there. “think i started to dream about your smile,” he said, and you may have sighed, just a little, as you felt your cheeks flush.

“did you watch me?” he asked, that spark of hope lighting up his face in a silent plea.

you nodded slowly, remembering the game. “wish you had stayed on the ice longer.”

he shrugged, the motion emphasizing the muscles in his shoulders and neck. you pretended not to notice.

“why do you smile when they hate you?” you asked, your head tilted in genuine curiosity, recalling his face as he made his way down the tunnel.

there was that mask again. “i love it.”

“you don’t,” you said, shaking your head slightly, watched him swallow.

“what?” he asked. you could have imagined the smallest shake in his voice.

“you don’t. you do that other smile you do.” you didn’t tell him your theory, that you knew if a crowd booed loud enough, maybe he could close his eyes and pretend they were cheering, instead. pretend it was love.

he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff. “what other smile?”

you bit your lip, unsure how to explain it. you reached your hands forward, paused for a moment as his eyes widened, so flooded with want. that beautiful second of expectation before a first touch, the first of what you inherently knew would be many.

“like-” you put your hands on his face, ever so lightly, moved his lips until that cocky smirk was opposite you. “like this.”

“like this, princess?” he asked through your fingers, his breath on your palms, and heat thrummed in your stomach.

you nodded slowly, reluctant to take your hands off of him. “and my favorite one is like this,” you said, moving his lips again until you were satisfied with the replica smile you had created, toothy and wide and beautiful - until you realized he was smiling at you like that anyways, without any manipulation.

you grinned back at him, melted at the simmering heat and longing in his eyes. before you could question it, you let yourself tap one finger to his front teeth, feeling the gap there, that imperfect feature you had most loved when you first saw it, felt your throat tighten at the way he was looked at you, the way he let his mouth just barely close around your finger.

a feather light motion that made your next breath come out shaky before drawing yourself away. you hadn’t realized just how close you had drifted towards him, even with the counter between you.

you glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it much later than you expected. “i need to close,” you said, clearing your throat. “i need to count the register.”

“okay.” he looked dazed. maybe in a cartoon there would have been pink mist or little hearts floating around his head.

you tried to collect yourself, ignore the phantom of his lips around your finger, a ghost of a kiss, a promise, a plea.

you gave a shake of your head. “i need to sit there. the register unlocks from that side, in front of your chair.”

your stomach dropped at the sudden darkness his eyes took on, so much so that you knew you would give in to whatever he said next.

instead of getting up, he pushed his hips up and back, spread his legs apart, settling deeper into the seat. “seat’s open, princess,” he said, and the confidence in his voice, all over his face, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t a mask.

it was real, genuine, set ablaze by your touch.

you looked around. you were closed, everyone was gone on this monday night, except the owner, a lady older than sin who was mopping in the corner, and who was known for minding her own business.

there was nobody to judge you there, nobody to punish you for giving into this, exactly what you wanted.

time felt like jelly as you made your way around the counter, paused for a beat in front of him before he helped you up onto his lap by your waist, faced you towards the register drawer, let his arms rest around your middle.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his breathy rasp warm on your neck.

you breathed out a yes, slightly overwhelmed by all of this touch at once. his chest behind you, radiating heat, his thighs firm below you, thick arms around you. here he was, everywhere, all at the same time, and after only interacting with a counter between you, this felt almost absurdly perfect, forbidden.

so perfect that it took every semblance of your concentration to unlock the register drawer, to push the rise and fall of his chest to the back of your mind, to ignore how your own body seemed to melt into his, relax completely, an utterly miraculous contrast to the stiff, constantly active way you usually were at work.

“still okay?” he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder. you could feel his facial hair through your thin shirt, smell his cologne, knew you would smell like it, too. his thighs flexed underneath you, and you could have moaned. you were having trouble focusing on counting, never mind answering his question.

he rumbled with a laugh you felt more than heard. “princess?”

“still okay,” you managed, “but you have to be still. i need to count.”

you felt him nod and smile into your shoulder as you got to counting, the rhythm of the bills eventually lining up with the rhythm of his breathing against your back, so peaceful and right that maybe, eventually, you both would have fallen asleep like this.

“finished,” you whispered when you were done, organizing everything back where it needed to go, soaking up the last few moments of his touch for that night.

“already?” he asked, although it had probably been half an hour.

you hummed, pushed yourself up and off of him, even as his hands continued to reach for you, his gaze hungry.

so hungry it scared you. you still didn’t quite know if he just wanted someone, or if he wanted you, if he would have acted this way for anyone who asked the right questions, gave him the attention he craved, saw through his mask.

hungry, hungry, hungry, and what scared you most was that you knew that you weren’t hungry for just anyone. only for him. and that question of reciprocation, it was like injecting ice into your blood.

“it’s late,” you said. “you have to go.”

if he was hurt, he didn’t show it, seemingly completely fine with taking things however slowly you wanted to. “okay,” he said. “may i have your number, please?” there was your favorite smile.

you smiled, despite yourself. “why?”

maybe it was the late hour that caused him to misspeak when he said, “because i want you.” he quickly realized his mistake and flushed, only just. “it!” he corrected, looking like a kid with chocolate he wasn’t supposed to eat schmeared all over his face. “i meant i want it.”

you fluttered at his mix-up, delighted that maybe he meant what he said. enough that this time, you didn’t deny his request.

it was a while before you saw him again in person, as he had back to back games and then several away contests before coming home again. but, like always, you put him on the screen by the bar, feeling yourself warm every time the camera caught his face.

one night, a late night, a couple hours after one of his games had ended, you looked up and you saw him at the doorway.

a bad feeling immediately bloomed inside you.

it had been a tough loss, close until the end, and one of his stupid penalties had forced a power play goal in overtime for the opponent. worse, this result had been crucial for their playoff bid. it wasn’t looking good.

you had not expected to see him tonight - he usually didn’t come by on game nights, only on nights off. and he didn’t look right as he stood under the neon signs at the door, he looked off. he looked drunk.

his speech was slow and slurred, making you cringe. after a couple of years at this job, oh, how you hated drunk people. oh, how you never wanted to see him like this, so at the mercy of something as truly stupid as alcohol.

and even more so, how you hated to see him drink himself stupid, how you wanted to make everything all better. you signaled for the bar-back to cover for a moment.

you walked around the counter and approached him. “matthew,” you began, “what’s going on?” you tentatively touched his forearm before grabbing one of his hands, wrapping it in both of yours, bitterly aware that he was not present as you were.

“oh, princess,” he said, stumbling just a bit into your grip as you pulled him outside. he mumbled something you couldn’t hear before laughing, but the laugh was cruel, devastated.

when you were outside, the only audience was the small group of smokers that always hung around the front of the bar. you took his face in your hands. “tell me what happened.”

“what happened?” he said slowly. “what happened?” he repeated, maybe asking himself. “ruined it, always ruin it, ruin everything.” his voice came out like a haunted childlike sing-song. it made your heart shatter.

you looked in his eyes, still holding his face. “you do not ruin everything, okay? you just need to go home and sleep this off.”

“princess, princess, always tryna’ make me feel better,” he slurred, letting the whole weight of his head rest in your hands, your fingertips touching the wisps that curled around his ears. he stumbled forward into you. “need to kiss you, yeah? make me feel better.”

you dropped your hands from his cheeks as if you had been scalded. if your heart wasn’t broken before, it was now, as you pushed his chest away while he leaned forward. you felt tears begin to prickle on your waterline.

of course, he wanted you now, when he was begging to be taken care of, when he was outwardly desperate to be reassured, when his vision was probably so impaired that he couldn’t really even see your face.

of course he wanted you now, when you could have been anyone.

“one of our cabs will take you home,” you said, trying to hide the wobble in your voice as you waved one over, barely able to look at him.

he pouted. “what?” he said, teasing, but there was a bite to his tone. “don’t like me like this? not your favorite anymore?”

you didn’t have the energy to scoff. “don’t be mean. sober up. goodnight.” you opened the car door for him, forced him down into the seat.

“don’t you want to kiss me?” he pressed, looked up at you, like he had before so many times from his barstool. like he had so many times, when it had been different.

oh, how they love to be taken care of. and look at you, taking care of them. desperate, foolish girl.

and even now, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie, to say no. “ask me when you’re not out of your mind.” you shut the car door and turned away, wiped your eyes with your sleeves quickly and methodically before taking a breath and getting back to the bar, to your job.

but you were a shell of yourself for the rest of the night, his words repeating over and over again in your mind. make me feel better.

so you blocked his number that you had just added, sighed of relief when one of your colleagues mentioned his team was headed away for a long stretch on the road. a week and a half without him. surely, completely isolated from him, you could forget about what happened.

and you half-believed that, until you came into work that next day and realized you would not be completely isolated from him at all.

right next to his stool there sat a bouquet of flowers and a red jersey, folded up. you already knew what name was on the back. you stood still at the entrance, reluctant to approach the offering.

“left it earlier,” the owner called from across the room, sweeping. “i told ‘m to fuck off, but he wouldn’t.”

“thanks anyways,” you said.

“i asked him why not,” she continued, the barest hint of a smile on her thin lips.

you furrowed your brow, confused.

“asked why he wouldn’t fuck off,” she said, “took him a second.”

you breathed out a laugh.

“said you didn’t know how much he cared, yet. and he needed you to know.”

you swallowed. “that’s nice of him,” you said, running the words over in your mind.

“not everyone deserves your second chances,” she said. “but i don’t let just anyone in our bar before we open.”

the words settled between you like diamond dust. the owner finished sweeping and left.

you approached the gift, found a note sitting on top of it in terrible handwriting.

i’m sorry, it read, i’m back next thursday. i’ll ask you then. you wondered briefly what he was going to ask you before you recalled what he had said to you that night when you put him in a car. your inability to fully turn him away.

you took a shaky breath as you read the last line of the note.

even if i’m not your favorite, you’re still mine.

your stomach fluttered, surprising you. so simple, and yet those words meant everything to you. that even when he got nothing from you, he wanted you still.

you hoped and hoped and hoped he meant it, and you believed it enough that you put the flowers in a vase and wore the jersey for each of his game days.

thursday came faster than you thought it would, probably because of how nervous you were. in this time apart, anything could be true. he could mean what he said, he could want you and only you, you could be counting down the minutes until finally kissing him, touching him how you so desired.

deep down, you were so deeply afraid that when he showed up, if he even showed up, that dreamy facade would be broken, and instead all of your greatest worries and insecurities would be realized.

throughout your whole thursday night shift, you were jittery, versions of how tonight could play out flashing through your mind.

the entire night flew by, until eventually it was time to close, and you tried to ignore your heart sinking. maybe this version of tonight, the one with you alone, maybe this one was for the best.

you counted the register, began to mop, waved goodnight to the owner as she left for the night and reminded you to lock up.

you did your final wipe-down of the counter, feeling the devastation begin to finally set in. you scrunched up your face, told yourself you wouldn’t cry on your bar top.

“princess.”

you looked up, and there he was, draped in neon light, and for a second it looked like sunlight streaming in through church stained-glass windows.

the sentiment didn’t seem altogether different. how many prayers had been answered at this bar? how many homemade temples had been elicited? how many haphazard gods?

“didn’t think you were coming,” you said as he made his way over to you, sat down on his stool, exactly the same dynamic as that first day, but there was no one else. only you and him.

“it’s my fault you ever had a doubt,” he said, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes, an ocean of apology.

you nodded, tossed the rag aside, rested your forearms on the counter and looked at him, eye to eye, and waited for him to say something.

“i’m sorry,” he said simply, and there was no mask to be found, only genuine regret. “i’m sorry i showed up here the way i did, i’m sorry i embarrassed you at work, i’m sorry i made you feel like just another person.”

you felt your heart stitching itself back together, however painful the process. he gently took your hands in his, warm and rough and firm. “you’re not just another person, okay, princess?” his voice was rough.

your exhale was choppy, so forced you had to close your eyes for a second. how long had you waited to hear somebody say that to you?

“you didn’t embarrass me,” you whispered. “i could never be ashamed of you.”

he gave the smallest laugh, shook his head. “even now, that’s what you focus on. how i’m feeling.”

“only because i care about how you’re feeling,” you said, almost defensive.

“you gonna let me care about how you’re feeling?” he asked, his thumbs tracing circles on your palms.

you stayed quiet, bit your lip, searched his eyes for an trace of doubt, falseness, didn’t find any. only a slowly simmering flame, drowning in want.

“you’re too far away,” you whispered.

“i’ve always resented this counter,” he said with a hint of a smile.

you gave a small smile back as you walked around the bar top, finally stood in front of him, exhaled before sitting down on top of him, your legs straddling his hips, your faces only a breath apart. you clasped your arms around his neck, leaned forward into his chest as his hands settled on your hips.

“ask me,” you all but begged.

his voice was a low rasp, his gaze syrupy with lust. “don’t you want to kiss me?”

you nodded, and he smiled, and then you were leaning forward, finally capturing his lips in a kiss that felt like neon light and television static and a million pleases, all finally answered with of course, anything for you.

you let yourself melt into his chest, tangled a hand in his curls, felt his grip tighten on the flesh at your hips.

he smiled into your mouth when you ran your tongue along the gap between his front teeth, groaned when you began to move your hips back and forth across his lap.

you tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck as you felt him grow harder beneath you, to which he bit down ever so lightly on your bottom lip, the feeling even better than what you had imagined all those times you had watched him gnaw on his mouthguard.

he used his grip to set your hips into a rhythm as you ground down on his lap.

“want to taste you so bad, princess,” he breathed into your mouth. “let me take care of you, yeah? just want to make you feel good.”

you nodded feverishly, tugged at your clothes as he lifted you off of his lap and rested you back onto the counter.

laid bare for him, you become aware of how wet you already were, perhaps the result of all the waiting, the questioning, the wanting that had existed between you both since the beginning.

he groaned at the sight of you. “fuck,” he rasped, “so wet already, hm?” he ran a finger through your folds, brought it to his mouth and sucked. “who’s this for, princess?”

“for you,” you whimpered, so eager for him to touch you how you wanted. “for you, matthew.”

“all for me.” you could hear the satisfaction in his voice before he leaned forward and began to tease you with his tongue, forced a choked moan from your throat.

one of your hands braced the counter for stability while the other shot forward of its own volition, grasping a handful of his curls, making him grunt. the noise vibrated through you.

“fuck,” you bit out, overwhelmed. he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your hips push up into him and your grip on his hair tighten. “fuck, you’re good at that.”

you felt his smile as he pushed two fingers inside of you, began to move them in and out slowly while continuing to tongue your clit.

you moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back, the combination of sensations making it hard to control your breathing, stop your back from arching up off the counter.

he brought his other hand to your stomach and pressed down, cementing your hips down into the bar top, intensifying every shock of pleasure, immediately bringing you impossibly close. “fuck, i can’t,” you whimpered, your hand grasping for sheets that weren’t there. “can’t, shit, so close-”

he lifted his head up, thumbed your clit while curling his fingers slightly inside of you. “gonna cum for me?” he cooed.

you nodded, eyes scrunched shut.

“cum, then, princess,” he pressed. “make a mess for me, hm?”

that building wave finally crashed over you, and you gave him exactly what he wanted, reveled in the fact that you could.

you caught your breath, let out a weak exhale, opened your eyes when you felt him press a light kiss against your hip, on the side of your ribs, up to your collarbone, finally on your lips.

pressed against you, you could feel every inch of him, so hard, immediately making you hungry for him again. “more,” you pleaded simply.

“yeah?” he rasped against your lips. “want more of me?”

you palmed his cock in reply, making him hiss, helped him move his clothes aside. “need to feel you inside me.”

he shifted you off of the counter and against his stool, which you immediately bent over and rested your forearms on.

he groaned, pumped his cock once, twice. “tell me this is okay, princess.”

you nodded. “please fuck me, matthew.”

he did as told, pushing inside you entirely, barely giving you any time to adjust before he set a brutal pace, practically splitting you in half.

“holy fuck,” he choked out as you stretched around him. “shit, you’re so perfect for me. bein’ so good, princess, stretching for me so well.”

you moaned as you began to adjust to his size, every part of you still so sensitive from your last orgasm.

he built up his rhythm, forceful and deep but never so much that it hurt, only a pleasant pressure that began to build inside of you.

“so deep,” you whined, your voice muffled by your own arm, “fuck, feels so good.”

he grunted in time with a slow thrust in response, making your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation.

“want to see you,” he rasped, hooking one hand around your thigh and flipping you around before pushing back into you, so that now your back was against the stool, your front facing him, one knee bent. he groaned when your eyes met. “fuck, like that.”

you reached one arm up to his shoulder for support, rested the other one back against the stool. your thighs began to shake from the stimulation, making you clench down on him harder, urging another deep moan from him.

time disappeared as the rhythm of you both continued, so lost in the feeling of him and his noises, so perfect and better than anything you had imagined.

at one point, he brought one of his hands to your clit, began to tease you again with his thumb, while the other hand braced the back of your neck.

“hm, look, princess,” he said, his voice rough with wear, as he forced your gaze down to where your bodies met. “watch me fuck you, yeah?”

you whimpered at his crudeness, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight in front of you, his cock thrusting into you, his hands willing you to the edge again.

he let out a choked laugh. “oh, you like that, hm? feel you close.”

“fuck, i’m so close, matthew,” you whimpered, feeling your legs give out.

“‘s okay, princess, ‘m there too,” he mumbled, his motions becoming less controlled. “cum with me, yeah? want to feel you cream on my cock.”

you did as he asked, spurred on by his words, the overstimulation. you felt him reach his high with a groan, warm inside of you, his body collapsing against yours.

you held each other close for several long moments, the only noise between you satisfied breaths and shallow heartbeats. the air was warm, so peaceful, and you bit back a smile at how this bar was now forever changed - this peace would never leave.

you felt his facial hair scratch gently against your shoulder as his head rested there, so content to simply have you close.

it could have been a lifetime. it was probably a minute or two.

he was the first to speak. “so,” he said, drowsy and sweet, “you guys still open? how’re my chances of getting a captain and coke?”

you smiled. how far you had come from the man with the mask asking for anything, maybe an ipa.

if please had been written all over him before, x’s and o’s were now, in pastel pink.

“anything for my favorite,” you said, and he kissed just under your ear.

fin.

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verhaeghes · 8 days

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nhl x notnylander part 3/?

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theywantedplayer · 1 year

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Plus size black girl you pick the nhl player cause I’m tired honey 😭

“You're gorgeous baby," he said Amazed at the way the dress hugged your curves and the way your lipstick Complemented your lips. He always loved when the team had a formal event, he turned into a puddle when he saw you every time. Didn't even care if it was the same dress as last time. It affected him all the same.

He was obsessed with you and utterly head over heels for you. He snaked his arms around your waist behind you as you looked in the mirror at yourself .

“I don't know, maybe it's too much” you told

It was never too much he thought, he loved the way you looked in that dress. The fact he got to show you off all night, getting to show the world how lucky he is he loved it, he loved you .

“No baby you look amazing” He kissed the side of your neck making you giggle. You told him you needed your necklace and he went off to get it. Soon appearing behind you, laying the necklace on your chest and clipping it on moving your hair out of the way.

“Thank you” you whispered looking at you two in the mirror, you Caught his eye in the mirror as you gave him a flirty wink. He smiled back as he could feel the velvet box with a ring inside in his pants pocket. He loved you

Mitch Marner,Auston Matthews,Jack Hughes,Leon draisaitl,andrei svechnikov,Trevor Zegars,Jamie Drysdale,nico hischier,Sidney Crosby

#mitch marner x reader #mitch marner #auston matthews #Mitch Marner #Auston Matthews #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #Auston Matthews x reader #jack hughes x reader #Leon draisaitl #Leon draisaitl x reader #andrei svechnikov x reader #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine

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cgsf · 6 months

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Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfiction recs — Leon/Matthew {Part 2}

°°°°°°

"wondering how many times can a heart melt" 🔒 (E) by slowboat | 2,551 | Wet lips parted, neck pink from beard burn. Head thrown back into the pillow but still watching Leon from under half-closed lids like Leon’s the Second Coming of Christ, like it’s detrimental for Matthew to keep his eyes on him, like he, too, is desperately trying to commit the view to memory.

"wrong when it's right" 🔒 (E) by daisysusan | 8,172 | Leon is drunk. Which—glancing around the locker room—plenty of guys aren’t sober, and for that matter Matthew isn’t either, but Leon is among the drunkest. Maybe the drunkest. Not sloppy, really, but it’s obvious in his loose movements and the way he smiles. And to think, Matthew thought he was going to forget how much he knew about Leon’s body.

"linger" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 71,255 | Matthew doesn’t fuck people who hate him, and he doesn’t fuck hockey players, and he doesn’t fuck alphas. He definitely doesn't fuck alphas when he's in heat. Except for, apparently, Leon Draisaitl.

"punch-drunk" 🔒 (E) by isozym | 3,142 | “Maybe I have a big secret crush on you,” Matthew says with a smile. “On pace for a hundred and forty points, so hot.” “Bullshit,” Leon snorts. His hand drops lower and squeezes Matthew’s ass. “You got me,” Matthew says. “I looked at you and figured your dick was big and uncut and would fit good in the back of my throat.”

"press my head between your shoulder blades" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 13,559 | Leon brings a boy home to Mallorca with him. It was supposed to be some cross between a sexcation and a romantic getaway. Somehow, it turns out better. And more embarrassing for... mostly for Leon.

"Stud" 🔒 (E) by the_pole_position | 959 | "What the fuck?" Brady said, looking over at him in concern. Then, once he spotted Matthew's flaming cheeks, suspicion. "What did you do." It wasn't even a question that he'd done something, which was fair.

"dim the lights and think of you" 🔒 (E) by allthatsings | 2,039 | “Come home with me.” “What?” It’s warmups and Matthew Tkachuk is leering at Leon from the other side of the red line.

"the first law of motion" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 5,568 | Matthew finishes brushing his teeth and spits in the sink. From this close, he smells like sweat, sex, the mint of his toothpaste. “I’m gonna shower too,” he says, reaching for the waistband of the basketball shorts he put on just to come in here, like Leon wasn’t riding his cock half an hour ago. “You staying?” It’s a rhetorical question. Even so, Leon wonders what would happen if he gave the wrong answer.

"your temporary touch" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 5,462 | Leon didn't even want to go to Florida.

"contact high" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 10,065 | So, something is wrong with him. Obviously. Leon’s never heard of anything like this, of feeling overheated and overwhelmed and out of control over your own body. Matthew touching him seems to fix it, though. If Leon were in his right mind, he’d hate that.

"Odour" 🔒 (E) by CoffeeHound91 | 32,201 | Matthew is a Null. He thinks that makes him nothing. Leon disagrees.

"i don't speak german but i can if you like" 🔒 (E) by wheelsnipecellysboys | 3,355 | “Ich spreche kein Englisch, du trottel.” “Woah,” Matthew says unintelligently, putting his hands up in surrender. “Holy shit, what is that? German? Swedish? Fuck.” He slides his martini glass away and grabs the one that this man had bought him, fingers picking at the olives again. “That’s hot.”

"Crowd Pleaser" 🔒 (E) by Helenish | 3,662 | “Best you ever had,” Matthew said once, because he was a dick.

"Wildcard" 🔒 (E) by wearemany | 21,124 | “Anything this guy wants,” he yells, tilting his head towards Draisaitl, “I’m buying.”

"roughed up in the afterglow" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 5,553 | "Fuck," Matthew says, and laughs again, a dry nothing of a sound. "Why is this so awkward?" "I don't know," Leon says, and lets his shoulders drop, shoves his knuckle into his eye. "Jesus."

"follow you down" 🔒 (M) by foundfamily | 11,739 | “Who’s looking after you?” Leon bristles. “Nobody. I’m a grown man.” “I could come out for a few days.” Leon waits for the punchline, sure he must be joking, but Matthew stays quiet, lets the offer linger.

"static" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 1,392 | It all happens on autopilot: punching in an address into Uber, sliding into a backseat, walking over a threshold. One minute he was on the ice, watching the puck go into an empty net as Matthew yanked on his stick, holding him back; the next he was here, standing in Matthew’s bedroom, goosebumps dotting his skin. Even in Florida, he's cold.

"pull me closer (we ain't ever getting older)" 🔒 (E) by ohtempora | 11,503 | Here's what Leon knows about Matthew Tkachuk: He's annoying to play against, especially for a freshman. Especially for a true freshman. He got in a shoving match in an exhibition game against Acadia. He's top on his team in points, and he's going to be a top-ten pick in the upcoming draft. Doesn’t help that he plays for Leon’s biggest rival. His name is getting thrown around for Hobey contention, and Leon can’t take some freshman winning the award he's wanted two years running.

"push-pull" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 2,765 | Matthew can’t help glancing at Leon’s thumb, at the path it's tracing as it dips under the hem of his sleeve. It’s a casually possessive gesture, staking out a square inch of territory. It puts him in mind of two months ago, when they were sitting on the couch at Leon’s place, drinking the beers Leon offered before they got down to the reason Matthew was there; Leon’s arm had draped over the back of the couch, his fingers resting in the notch of Matthew’s shoulder in a way they had never done before, and Matthew had sat there, fist choking the neck of his beer bottle as he tried not to go crazy from wanting to pull away from it. From wanting more of it.

"Bad Habit" 🔒 (M) by ClaraxBarton | 2,295 | Matthew was angry, horny and lonely. Not a great combination in his hometown, during an event that threw an even bigger spotlight on him than usual in a town that was absolutely a hockey town, no matter what people wanted to say. So, his usual go-to for getting rid of the angry, horny, lonely feelings - hooking up with a stranger - was problematic in a lot of ways. Not the least of which was finding the time between all of the everything he had to do.

"Bloodletting" 🔒 (M) by Helenish | 3,781 | They’d been happy. They’d won a lot of hockey games together.

"make this bed get squeaky" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 8,674 | The Oilers win their series against the Flames and Leon feels like he deserves a reward. Showing up at Tkachuk’s house for a booty call feels like the natural next step.

°°°°°°

More to be added.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #ao3 #mens hockey rpf #mattdrai #leon draisaitl x matthew tkachuk #leon x matthew

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hamartia-grander · 7 months

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When your party's rogue rolls a 32 on her stealth check and completely uncovers another player's tragic backstory three chapters too early and now you've gotta improvise for the next two hours

Loosely based off of this screenshot from the Mighty Nein campaign (Matt is the DM and Laura is a player):

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mothhball · 1 month

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drabble requests!

hello hello, I'm going on a pretty long train journey tomorrow and need a good way to pass the time

so, feel free to send in some requests and I'll write a drabble!

will write for:

Jonathan Crane

Neil Lewis

Jackson Rippner

Raymond Leon

Matthew Joy

Tom (The Party)

Robert Fischer

I might've missed some, so if you're in doubt, just ask <3

Please note that I've only properly written for Jonathan and Neil, so bear with me lol

#cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #neil lewis x reader #jackson rippner x reader #raymond leon x reader #robert fischer x reader #matthew joy x reader #tom (the party) x reader

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pink-strawberry-kissess · 1 year

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Matt mercer and Nick apostolides being aeon stans gives me hope

#ada wong #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #aeon #leon x ada #leon kennedy x ada wong #ada x leon #matthew mercer #nick apostolides

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allylikethecat · 9 months

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Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Men's Hockey RPF Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Leon Draisaitl/Matthew Tkachuk Characters: Leon Draisaitl, Matthew Tkachuk, Connor McDavid Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg Summary:

“What happened?” Leon demanded. “You were scratched last minute? Then I hear you’re going on long term IR indefinitely? AND THEN you left the arena- I spent half an hour looking for you before Looch took pity on me and told me you left!”

Matthew shrugged, his gaze steel. “I didn’t know you were my keeper.”

#allylikethecat #hurricane #hockey rpf #mattdrai #matthew tkachuk rpf #leon draisaitl rpf #matthew x leon #mpreg #fanfiction #hockey fanfiction

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thisishowgalaxiescollide · 2 years

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back to where we lasted - ohtempora - Men's Hockey RPF [Archive of Our Own]

Summary:

Leon watches the press conference from a front-row seat, has the dubious honor of listening to Matthew fucking Tkachuk talk about how excited he is to play on Leon's fucking team.

A reporter stands up, the lights reflecting off his glasses when he holds his phone up to get Matthew on the record. "How does it feel, Matthew, to come home?"

Matthew smiles, his grin as smirky at 33 as it was when he was 22 and sneering at Leon across the ice in Calgary. “Not gonna lie,” he says. “It feels goddamn fantastic.”

#matthew x leon #1928 #fic rec #it took me like a month to finish this fic because life has been a shit show and i have zero mental space right now #but here

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ijustdontlikepeople · 5 months

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NHL x Internet 4/?

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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

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bad idea - matthew tkachuk

flames!matthew tkachuk x draisaitl!fem reader

summary: in a bad mood after losing to calgary, your brother is a dick to you. you decide to get back at him with a little bit of help

warnings: mention of injury/fighting, language, implied smut, crying inside that i wrote anything oilers related

word count: 1.8k battle of alberta 2018

in all your years of watching your older brother leon play hockey, you were sure you had never seen a game as rough as this one. you knew it was to be expected; the game was advertised as the ‘battle of alberta’ for good reason, the edmonton oilers and the calgary flames quite literally going to war on each other from the very second the puck dropped. you weren’t the biggest hockey fan, but you rarely got to see your older brother with his busy schedule, and were looking forward to hanging out with him after the game.

it wasn’t even two minutes into the first period before leon laid a huge hit on calgarys matthew tkachuk, the younger player hitting his head on the ice as he landed and leaving the game for the time being.

while you were cheering for your brothers team to win, as were your friends and family sitting in the crowd next to you, you found yourself hoping that the calgary flame was okay. you would be crucified if you said it out loud, but you found the flames player kind of cute, and always enjoyed watching him play; despite the rivalry that seemed to be brewing between him and your brother. your eyes always ended up on him whenever he was on the ice, and you found it hard to look away. you were pretty sure that tkachuk was only a year older than you, and you found yourself breathing a sigh of relief when he returned to the game, seemingly uninjured.

as the game went on, edmonton had a two nothing lead, but after many more fights, (most of them involving tkachuk in some way) and four goals from calgary, the game was over.

‘this is gonna be a fun drive home,’ you thought as you walked out of the stands to find leon. you had to wait for awhile for the team to change and shower, and you were growing tired waiting around for your brother. your friends and family being bummed about the loss was not helping the time go by faster as you stood around awkwardly while they caught up with eachother.

it was around thirty minutes later that leon finally emerged from the hallway that lead to the visitors dressing room, greeting your group unenthusiastically.

“hey,” you replied, and he merely grumbled in response, barely paying attention to the fact that you were there; and it stung. leon greeted your parents and friends without much more warmth but still you suddenly felt invisible as he talked with them and not you. you hadn’t seen him in months, and he couldn’t even say hello properly? and to make matters worse, your parents had already seen him before the game.

“leon-“

“let’s go,” he mumbled, his jaw clenched as he bumped into your shoulder with his, causing you to stumble slightly.

maybe you were being overly sensitive, but no one seemed to notice how cold he was being; either letting it go because the team lost, or perhaps you were just expecting a warmer greeting from your big brother.

you tried to grab his arm to keep up with him as he walked away, but he pulled it away and shot you a glare.

“i know you’re pissed, but it’s not my fault you guys lost.”

“so it’s my fault?” he countered, and you sighed.

“that’s not what i said-“

“that’s what you’re thinking though, isn’t it?”

“no, leon!” you sighed, trying to remember how he was feeling right now. “if i had known you were gonna be such a sore loser i wouldn’t have come.” he had never been this grumpy after a loss before.

“then maybe you shouldn’t have,” his jaw clenched again, and you could tell from his expression that the conversation was over. you stopped walking while he continued down the hall, your parents catching up to you, oblivious to the argument between you and leon.

“you know what, i’m gonna catch up with you guys tomorrow,” you said, faking a yawn. your family had planned to go for dinner after the game while you were all in town. the oilers had a day off tomorrow, and you hoped by then your brother would be in a better mood.

“are you sure, honey?” your mom asked, and you nodded.

“yeah, i’ll just get a cab back to the hotel. i don’t think leon’s really in a celebrating mood so i’m sure he won’t care. i’ll see you guys in the morning,” you said, before hugging your family and watching them leave the saddledome.

you sighed as you stood in the now nearly empty hallway alone, and before you could do the smart thing and actually take a cab home like you said you would, your felt your legs begin to carry you in the opposite direction.

your feet slowed outside of a certain closed door, fiddling with your hands nervously as you lingered outside the flames dressing room. just as you were deciding that the players had probably already left and began to turn back, the door opened.

after one quick look at your jersey, branded with the oilers logo and leon’s number, matthew tkachuk shook his head with a slight laugh.

“i don’t know how you got back here, but if you’re looking for him you have the wrong locker room,“ he said pointing at your jersey.

“and if i’m looking for you?” you replied, and he looked you up and down again, slower this time as if actually taking in your appearance, not just your wardrobe.

“depends why you’re looking for me. if you’re going to stab me or something for beating your team-“ he joked.

“relax, leon’s my brother; you don’t have a security issue,” you laughed, and he smiled slightly. “and i promise i’m not here to stab you,” you raised your hands in surrender.

“that’s a relief,” he laughed, a more genuine smile on his face this face this time, and you realized that he was even cuter in person. his long curls were messy, still slightly damp from the shower, and he stood quite a bit taller than you. his expression changed as the words ‘brother’ and ‘leon’ clicked in his head, and he crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles flexing under his shirt. “so why are you looking for me?”

“i… uh,” you stuttered, not having thought this far ahead. “i don’t know. i kind of felt bad that my brother hit you so hard, but i guess you got him back in the end,” you said, your gaze falling to the floor. matthew had gotten a few good hits in on leon during a fight later in the game.

“well, i appreciate the thought, but i’m okay. and yeah, i guess we’re even; for now.”

“does that mean you wouldn’t be interested in doing something that would really piss him off?” you asked, looking up to meet his blue eyes, his eyebrow twitching upward slightly with intrigue.

“why do i get the feeling you’re hoping i am interested?” he took a step closer, and you could smell his cologne now. “big brother do something to make you mad?” he asked, and you found yourself smiling, despite the fact that he was teasing you.

“that’s irrelevant,” you rolled your eyes playfully, taking a step closer so you were only about a foot apart now as you looked up at him. “besides, i’m thinking as much as i would like to get him back, it’s probably best he doesn’t know what i’m thinking right now.”

“yeah, i’m sure he wouldn’t be too happy to know his sister was waiting for me after the game,” he agreed, his eyes travelling up and down your body again.

“leon and everyone left already. i told them i was going back to my hotel room…”

“will they notice if you’re not there?” he asked. and you shook your head with a smile. “then i think we could make a quick detour first..” he trailed off, throwing an arm over your shoulder and leading you down the hallway. “here, don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself.” he threw his suit jacket over your shoulders to cover your jersey as the two of you snuck out of the arena and to his car.

“embarrassed to be seen with me?” you teased as he opened the passenger door for you.

“i was more thinking about how it might look to the paparazzi if they happened to stumble upon us leaving together.”

“wouldn’t that be the scandal of the season,” you laughed as he started the car and drove out of the parking lot and towards his house.

you were barely inside the door before you were trapped between it and his body, matthews hands holding your waist firmly.

“you sure you want this?” he asked, his hips pressed against yours as you stared up at him. “it’s probably a really bad idea…”

“i thought you liked breaking the rules?” you smirked, placing your hands on his chest and sliding them upwards to tangle in his hair.

“hmm i have been known to do that,” he leaned down to capture your lips with his, and tou tugged on his hair as his hands slid under your jersey, bunching the material up. “either way, edmonton jerseys are forbidden in my house so this has to come off,” he smiled.

•

“so not that i care, but was this just to piss your brother off?” matthew asked as he walked back from the bathroom after getting cleaned up, dressed in just his sweatpants.

“sounds like you care a little bit-“ you teased, covering yourself with the blankets on his bed.

“i don’t!” he laughed, and you shook your head with a smile as he handed you a t-shirt to wear.

“mhm,” you hummed. “i’ll be honest, i’ve thought you were cute for a while. pissing leon off was really just a bonus.”

“good to know you weren’t just using me-“ you threw a pillow at him and he laughed as he caught it, crawling back into bed next to you. “okay, i kind of used you just as much, so i guess we’re even. i do love any chance to make your brother angry, but i think that this might be my new favourite,” he said before he kissed your lips.

“agreed,” you smiled, reaching over to grab your phone as it began to buzz on his nightstand. leon’s name appeared on the screen, and you rolled your eyes as you answered it, gesturing for matthew to be quiet.

“hello,” you said plainly, still a little mad at him despite how good of a distraction you’d had for the last two hours. you could see matthew moving closer in your peripheral vision, and you felt his breath on your ear.

“i’m sorry,” leon said on the phone held to your other ear, and you sighed, your breath catching as you felt kisses up the side of your neck. you froze as matty nibbled at the skin of your throat, leaving a light bruise behind as you tried not to make a noise.

“yeah, you were kind of an asshole. i’m kind of glad you lost, actually,” you said, and it was half true.

matthew had to stifle a laugh as he laid down next to you, covering his mouth with his hand.

“i wish you had come to dinner. we missed you,” leon sighed.

“it didn’t seem like you missed me very much earlier,” you replied. “i’d appreciate if you didn’t take it out on me when you lose.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ll see you in the morning?” he asked.

“yes, i’ll be there for breakfast. goodnight leon.”

“goodnight,” he replied, before ending the call. you tossed your phone aside as you hit matthew playfully on the shoulder.

“do you know how much trouble we would be in if we got caught?”

“i thought that was the half the fun?” he smiled, crawling on top of you and kissing your lips.

“maybe i’ve decided i want to live to do this again sometime.”

“i like that idea.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl players #real person fiction #hockey #hockey fic #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #tkachuk #matthew tkachuk #matty tkachuk #florida panthers fic #calgary flames #flames #leon draisaitl fic #leon draisaitl

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