#mitchell marner imagines

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐈𝐀𝐍.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — MITCH MARNER x reader (est. relationship) wc — 4.5k synopsis — think hilary duff’s balcony engagement circa 2007

note — this belongs to the i don't remember this bar collection

specific content warnings below the cut.

cw — profanity and other vulgar language, taking the lord’s name in vain + other religious-ish imagery, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected PIV intercourse (multiple) + creampie/breeding kink, discussion/thoughts of cum play, outdoor sex and mention of previous exhibitionism, mention of previous choking + breath play (f!reader receiving), pain kink situation (both), one line of blood play (f!reader receiving), justified violence (not directed at reader!!!), slight d/s dynamics, and possessive!mitch being a domestic little horndog

“Before we talk about that beautiful, game-tying goal in the tail-end of the second and your overall command of the offensive zone throughout tonight’s game, I first want to congratulate you on some major life news. A few weeks belated; my apologies.

For those who don’t know, you came back from the All-Star break with more than just a tan; you came back with—and as—a fiancé.”

Mitch does nothing to dim his megawatt smile or to dull the sparkle in his eyes. The mere mention of you coaxes out an impossibly giddier version of himself, unencumbered by the stress and pressure of a waning season. It’s always been that way.

It's difficult to remember a time before you. He doesn't want to.

Despite of meeting on arguably one of the worst nights of his life, somehow, all he feels when the memory rises to the surface of his mind is joy.

He remembers your laughter, warm and buoyant, and the way the low light painted flattering shadows across your kind face as you spoke animatedly about your passions and dreams. He remembers being treated like a person before anything else, not some character in a video game or a pawn in someone else’s fantasy league, and he recalls your fervent, genuine interest in his off-ice hobbies. Not once did you ask anything invasive or demand he share more than he was willing.

Nor did you fish for tickets.

For Mitch, privacy was paramount, and the sentiment echoed throughout your lengthy relationship. It was your through-line, and it should’ve blanketed the intimate proposal in safety.

He gets hot under the collar just thinking about it.

Mitch will entertain the host’s questions to an extent. Because, despite his insistence on privacy, he will never pass up an opportunity to sing your praises or brag about his luck.

“Did you bring anything else back? Any special souvenir to commemorate such a momentous occasion?”

Mitch is instantly hard, his pale cheeks ablaze, eternally grateful that the camera is filming from the chest up.

Carried in on a warm evening breeze, the evocation is so palpable he can taste the blue curaçao on his tongue and feel its muted burn in the back of his throat. The air smells of pineapple and your fragrant shampoo, a comforting scent that clings to him like a second skin. The phantom of your touch sends a shiver down the expanse of his sore, sweat-drenched back.

“—holy fuck.”

The crinkled, two-word curse tumbles from Mitch’s mouth with little effort.

Every modicum of tact was either battling against the warm rum coursing through his body or fighting to keep his guttural, damning moans at bay.

They are getting hot and heavy on a patio, after all.

Mitch knows this isn’t smart. He knows he should’ve moved the celebration indoors, that he should've waited until you were curtained in safety to give in to his desire and your wandering hands.

He knows, he knows, he knows.

The problem is he just doesn’t care.

Mitch wasn’t about to delay the appreciative mouth of the woman he was going to make his wife, not even for a second.

Even if she dropped to her knees with only a hedge to play look-out. A line of decorative foliage is their first and final defense, the leaves carelessly swaying between them and the rest of the luxury resort he booked for All-Star weekend.

It’s difficult to make sound decisions when the hand wrapped around your cock is newly weighed down by five carats.

The dazzling rock shines proudly in the concluding rays of a setting sun. Glittery and perfect, like the woman who wears it.

Mitch hisses when the tip taps the back of your throat for the first time that night. The sensitive skin melts into your tongue like an ice cube, the creamy droplets of anticipation swallowed greedily by your ravenous mouth. He sees stars in the cotton candy sky peeking through the palm trees.

It hasn’t been that long; his day began with your nose nuzzled against his pelvis, his head limp against the cool tile of the shower a few feet away.

When it comes to you, nothing is ever enough to curb his appetite.

Always needy, never satiated—a pair of perverted peas in a pod.

Your tongue repeats the delicious motion it had previously, too, lazily tracing along the underside of his length until he’s whimpering with no regard for anything besides spilling himself down your throat. He feels you smile around his thickness, pleased by the ease of his undoing. You were damn good; you deserved to be proud.

In all honesty, it took very little effort on your part to make him weak in both his knees and in his resolve.

However, there was a special kind of magic in your pretty face, now dusted by a salty sheen, nestled against his taut abdomen, his cock engulfed by the vice-grip of your throat.

Mitch is close already.

White-hot sparks descend through his quads and calves to zap his sandy toes. Electrified, his hips sputter of their own volition, but like the godsend you are, you accommodate every jolt and tilt in stride.

With one hand braced against his hip and the other gently massaging the heavy weight of his balls cradled in your palm, you peer up at him through a fan of fluttering lashes.

He whines—at the mischievous glint in your glassy eyes or the bite of your manicure as you sink your nails into his burnt skin, he can’t be sure.

Some of your fingers curl into the nasty bruise eating up his lower back, the by-product of a gruesome communion with the ice a few days prior. Sharp nails nip at the fragile skin. Mitch doesn’t know if the twinge of pain was intentional on your part, but he loves it either way. Perhaps a little too much, he thinks to himself as he twitches violently in your grasp.

And perhaps you aren't the only one with a masochistic streak. It's clear from the heaviness of your lids the converse applies to you.

His sweetheart's sick and sadistic. He's never been prouder.

“Get off,” he husks. Abruptly, he steps out from your embrace.

In retrospect, Mitch could’ve been nicer about it. At that moment, however, he was far too desperate for chivalry.

Staring down at your wide, despondent eyes—a pup deprived of her favorite bone—your fiancé amends, “Calm down, sweetheart. I’ll give it back soon. There’s no way in hell I’m wasting a load in your mouth when I know how good your pussy feels around my cock.”

Heat scales Mitch’s spine as he spreads you wide open against the chaise. Your folds glow brighter than the jewelry on your left hand.

With the tip of his finger, he tests the waters. Gingerly, at first, like he's still unsure you'll be able to take him. That charade hardly lasts, but tonight, it's barely a blip.

Your body eagerly welcomes the attention, mouthing at him before sucking the touch past the taut, elastic ring of your entrance. Your faint groans elicited by the intrusion harmonize so sweetly, so perfectly, that Mitch’s eyes fall shut in tranquil bliss.

When your hips rock against his palm, they snap open.

Blinking at him hard and fast, your teeth sink into your bottom lip, turning the plushness a sickly shade of pink—of desperation. Tears crowd your lash line but never cascade down your shiny cheeks; they, like you, are impatiently waiting for reprimand.

Mitch almost laughs. You did jump the gun, so he can't fault you for expecting the corresponding punishment. But it's a special occasion—you're celebrating, so it never manifests.

And Mitch wants to do more than just spank you silly. Plenty of time for that later. A lifetime's worth of it.

Instead, with the flick of his wrist, Mitch encourages you to take your pleasure.

The subtle, tantalizing movements, building in speed and ferocity with each pass, beckon him forward until his sunburnt skin is close enough to burn yours. Feeling you beneath him, feeling his weight rest against your body, feels better than heaven, and he’s barely started.

Like before, Mitch is painfully aware he won’t be able to last long. Judging by how silky-slick you are against his palm, you won’t be either.

With his free hand, he catches your jaw and, with little resistance, tilts your head to keep your gaze from straying. Your mouth falls open when he slips another finger inside. Mitch grins down at your lust-blown pupils and the feel of your hot breath against his lips. He leans down and licks into your idle mouth. A third finger causes your bottom lip to tremble between his and your forehead to ease, every little muscle going soft and pliant between the cushion and his chest.

“Atta girl,” Mitch praises. His lips press briefly to your cheek before beginning their descent along your throat. The touch is featherlight and sends a shiver down your spine, coaxing your chest further into his. “—love seeing you like this, all beautiful and open. And all fucking mine.”

Mitch wouldn't necessarily consider himself a territorial person, and he can't recall ever feeling possessive of a partner. Until he met you.

It had nothing to do with trust or a lack thereof; you were his the minute your eyes met through the crowd, and you reassured him of that fact constantly. It was never you that needed a reminder—it was everybody else.

The men who openly leer at you from every corner of Scotiabank Arena. The NHL hopefuls in your Instagram comments shamelessly flirting as if he didn’t exist or wasn’t in the photo, too. The unprofessional commentators who found ways to sneak in a lecherous comment or two under the guise of camaraderie whenever they spoke about his prowess.

You weren’t some object to be won or bought. You made a choice, and he’d make sure they knew and respected it.

Sure, the engagement ring will aid in this up-hill endeavor, but a little due diligence never hurt either.

“Tonight, it's gonna take. I’m making damn sure of that, sweetheart.”

Your walls squeeze his digits in recognition. Mitch chuckles, dark and dry, against your shoulder. You might like the implication more than he does.

You two weren’t trying, but you weren’t not trying either. Seeing you wearing his ring—the one he picked and purchased—kicked him down a perverted spiral. Flipped the last switch, cut the final cord. He wanted to complete the picture. He wanted to give those good-for-nothing losers one more reason to keep their mouths shut and their eyes to themselves.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Love for me to fill you in a way that’ll last? C’mon, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me how badly you want to be stuffed full of me, how much your pussy needs it—how badly you want to be heavy and swollen with my kid."

Mitch tends to your clit, keeping you borderline incoherent as he tickles your ears with more filth before you can reply to the first goading.

Your eventual responses are muffled by a long, primal whine.

When he has you swaying on the brink of collapse, he’s painfully hard against your inner thigh. There's an iridescent river pearling from the weeping head, freely flowing down to pool beneath your ass. It beams in the dim light like a beacon.

Transfixed and desperately in love, Mitch could cum right now. Just like this.

But staining a stupid fucking cushion would be more of a waste than shooting himself your throat. So, much to your chagrin, he, once again, retreats back onto his knees.

“C-come back,” you whimper with a loud hiccup. The choked sound is as pitiful as your attempts to reach for him. “Please, please, please—”

Satisfaction spreads over the bridge of his nose, leaving him rosy from one cheek to the other. He pins you with a heated, half-lid stare as he strokes himself.

His palm doesn’t feel as good as yours, but Mitch is grateful for that. He wants to drag this out. Instead of rutting into you like a teenager in the backseat of a car, or like himself after a long stint away.

That can’t—and won’t—happen if he keeps touching you. He has to back off before he loses his ever-loving mind.

“Stop being a tease,” you chide. Irritation weighs heavily on your voice. “Haven’t I waited long enough?”

“There’s something I want you to see first, you little brat,” he replies, adopting your sharp tone as he brings his open palm down on your inner thigh.

You shriek, but your eyes beg for another. Maybe he shouldn't have cut you any slack earlier...

He grants your silent wish with a matching blow to the other side before guiding his rigid cock to rest over your body.

And it was better than Mitch ever imagined.

He groans at the sight, “Can you see it? Can you, sweetheart?”

Mitch waits patiently for it to click in your mind, but the confusion that swiftly overtook your fucked-out features never dissipates. Eyes rolling, he shifts forward. Hand still wrapped around the base, Mitch leans over until the full length of him sits against your bare stomach.

Your body quivers over the contact, so he has to hold your hips down to keep you from wiggling and ruining everything.

“I know you can feel it, but I want you to see it. I want you to see how deep I get inside of you, sweetheart. All the way up…” Mitch trails off as his hands glide from your outer hips to the center of your abdomen.

His voice is so deep. So hungry. Your whole being—mind and body—goes weak at the foreign richness.

With tender thumbs, he applies pressure beneath his swollen tip. “—here.”

Mitch moves slowly at first, as if he'd just been sheathed inside of you. With each careful thrust, his stones caress your aching clit, all puffy and pouting.

It feels wonderful to be touched again, even if only in short bursts. But it's not enough friction or force to do much more than aggravate you further. Even when he picks up speed, it’s more hurtful than helpful.

Still, you cannot tear your eyes away from the angry, ruddy head dribbling out ropes of arousal or voice a shred of discontent. The opaque beads form a nonsensical pattern, but it's mesmerizing nonetheless.

If you were any less needy, you’d take your time running your fingers through the milky mess. Swirling around in the evidence of Mitch’s desire until you had enough to lick clean.

As if privy to your thoughts, he pins your wrists at your sides again.

Mitch isn’t faring much better than you. His eyes are trained on the shadow bisecting your middle. Locked, laser-focused. This little…exercise was as much for his amusement as it is for your education. He knows how far he can reach inside of you—knows how fucking fantastic it feels to be buried at the root, but seeing just how deeply he can fuck you is something else entirely.

It's enough to make him question why and how he ever stops fucking you. He’s an idiot for depriving himself. For neglecting you. An exercise in frustration as much as his fruitless effort to shun the rose-colored perversions dancing wild in his mind, Mitch has wasted so much time.

Fuck penance and fuck propriety—it would be a sin to do anything other than worship at your altar as a devoted acolyte. Cardinal, even.

His stomach tightens as he considers how empty you must feel in his absence—and how deliciously whole you must feel when he drives home. He wonders how forlorn your folds must look right now as he keeps what you covet just out of bounds. His body obstructs the view, but Mitch knows you’re open and fluttering around nothing, pleading for mercy.

If he were a cruel man, he’d ignore your begging and continue on like this until his balls were empty and your chest was covered in ivory threads. Lucky for you, your future husband is of the clement variety.

Before you can get another babble, his mouth is back on yours. He keeps your arms tight to your sides, so you’re incentivized to convey your fervent need for more—of anything, really—through your lips and tongue.

Mitch is greedy when he kisses you and needy while lapping up your fire—happily, and without pause. His head pounds like he finished a handle in a single sip, but he doesn’t want it to stop. Ever. It’s disorienting, and yet, he can’t seem to get enough no matter how much of you he drinks down. Mitch wants to spend the rest of his life drunk on your lips.

Begrudgingly, he tears his mouth from yours. Then, tanned chest heaving, he positions himself between your glistening southern lips. Mitch looks down at you, and when your vision finally focuses, his eyes have been shadowed in darkness by his hulking brow.

His prior impatience dwindles ever so slightly even though he's on the precipice of complete satisfaction. Mitch hasn’t gotten a good look at you since your nimble hands relieved him of his shorts some twenty minutes ago, and you are glorious. A celestial nymph with dominion over his heart, devastatingly beautiful and all-consuming in every conceivable way. The hold you have over him is dangerous, verging on obsession. There isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do or say if it appeased you so.

He isn’t fearful. He’s honored. The gratitude he feels knowing that you were, and remain, receptive to his devotion is overwhelming. And now, watching the lucid waters of lust ebb and flow in your glazed eyes, he’s never felt luckier.

Mitch thumbs the gem resting atop your finger, and you shudder as if it were the one tucked between your thighs.

His other hand lingers around your right wrist, though not as tightly as before. With his pulsing head shallow in your heat, he knows you’ll behave. Disrupting him now would only prolong his teasing. A lesson you learned—and were often reminded of—the hard way.

As his fingers trace the metallic band, warmed by the tropical sun and his furnace-like touch, Mitch pushes his hips forward, slow and steady, until he’s fully enveloped by your wanting walls. With your snug, pillowy softness stretching and constricting to accommodate his generous blessing, his grip on reality slips.

“You’re a fucking dream,” your fiancé rasps.

His hands are now splayed wide on either side of your head, effectively caging you beneath him as he builds a faithful rhythm. Teeth clenched, he works diligently to fashion a tribute worthy of your ethereal beauty and power.

“—always so warm and wet for me, just begging to be split open on my thick fuckin' cock. How long have you been this needy, sweetheart? Since I bent you over on the boat? Right over the railing where anyone could’ve seen you?”

You nod, bruised bottom lip pinched between your teeth. Tears well in your eyes.

Your afternoon tryst had been as quick as it’d been rough. Sundress bunched high, the fragile fabric wrinkled between your hips and the cool metal railing as Mitch’s right hand wrapped around your throat. His talented fingers pressed firmly into your sun-kissed skin, relentless in their torment, as he pawed at the pathetic knot struggling to hold your bathing suit in place. His mouth curled into a smirk as it whispered a heady mix of degradation and praise. All while you preened for him, a large crowd just steps away.

That wasn't the first orgasm you were robbed of today.

The hem of the thin material that clung to your anguished body floated demurely above your ankles, landing just shy of the bone. The sullied garment hid the incriminating evidence that inched down your sore thighs with every step you took. The irony was not lost on you as you walked back to your room.

“D’you know how hard it was to stop myself from fucking you in front of all those people? To hold back like that—to not bend you over and take in broad daylight? Of course you do, you sweet, sadistic minx. You always know how to rile me up—and you always find a reason to.”

Mitch grins against your lips before his teeth momentarily replace yours. They nestle into the grooves as if that was the expressed purpose of the faint indentations.

“With the way you’ve been behaving, I’m willing to bet you want a better souvenir than a gift shop tchotchke, hm? Y'gotta be patient for me, though—good girls wait for their rewards. Jus' wait… Oh, I don’t know, nine months? Give or take? Think you can do that for me?"

He’s being cheeky on purpose. He likes the way gentle irritation plays out between your legs—always has and always will.

Mitch releases your lower lip again, but only after he’s nicked it with his canines. A dainty bead of crimson materializes. Covetous, his tongue laps it up without pause. Painted lips kiss from cheek to cheek.

Your back arches. Your hips lift to rock in time with his thrusts.

“God, I can’t wait till we get those fuckin’ keys,” Mitch mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

The lean muscles of his upper body ripple as he sits up to grab ahold of your jaw, a calloused hand on either side. He has an unimpeded view of your dazed, saccharine countenance. His hips slow until they match the thumbs stroking escaped tears into your cheeks.

“—m'gonna take you in every room, against every surface. That way, there won’t be a single thing in our home that—fuck—that doesn’t remind you of me and how well I take care of you—you and your tight cunt.”

With little fanfare, he threads his arms under your dewy legs. Mitch uses the newfound leverage to tug your body even closer.

A shriek rips through the firm seam of your lips as his length traverses an unexplored depth. Your knees snuggle against the pit of his elbows, pleased to be so close in spite of the pain.

Mitch holds your gaze, reveling in your silent screams. He winks, then slowly lowers himself down until your body is folded squarely beneath his. Your muscles burn with the fury of budding resentment, which you’ll surely feel towards him in the morning after this unprompted foray into acrobatics, but the new angle is too good to do more than just... take it.

His hands are glad to have been relieved of their duty and, eager to take advantage of their newfound freedom, palm your chest as his mouth descends on your poor neck. The delicate skin is utterly defenseless against the desire thumping deep within his chest and spilling over his ribs.

Mitch wants to stake his claim—to mark his territory. A stammer of expletives accompanies the vulgar jut of your hips when he rolls your sensitive nipples, swollen and begging for attention, between thumb and forefinger. Bracketed by his forearms, you surrender completely.

Mitch hums at the lewd, sucking sound made by your arousal. Wet squelches ricochet off the adjacent wall with each and every thrust.

“I’ve really made a mess out of you, haven’t I?”

You nod, eyes pinched in concentration.

You’re close. He can feel your body trying to milk him dry. Fortunately, Mitch isn’t far behind. You feel too fucking good to prolong the inevitable.

He brings a hand to your clit, and it moves in messsy circles as he speaks, “Not done yet, though. Gonna flood this pretty cunt—gonna leave you all sticky and hot. I know you want it, but I need you to cum for me first. Go on, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You unravel on command, your chin falling to the side in ecstasy. Mitch’s firm hand is quick to wrench it back; he needs to watch your face contort as you crumble like he needs air to breathe. Mitch won't be able to think straight until he reaps the rewards of fucking and rubbing you through it.

The sob that wrecks your body is high-pitched and perforated by little gasps, and the rush of wetness is more pathetic than any noise you could and would make in your lifetime. More than you ever thought your body was capable of, more than your new fiancé expected, more than either of you anticipated.

He's soaked in a matter of seconds—as are you and the cushion dripping onto the concrete.

Mitch's climax comes in quick succession but, unlike yours, without warning. Undoubtedly, his peak was triggered by the gush of your undeniable satisfaction.

Drained dry, Mitch hunches over to capture your lips once more, determined to distract you from the inevitable bodily ache on the come-down. Delicately, he places your trembling legs onto the chaise and nestles into the space they vacated. He feels every little muscle twitch and spasm when he hugs you tightly to his body.

The world is muted, fuzzy around the edges, and drowned out by the aftershocks, so you miss most of his sweet-nothing rambling, but the relief and contentment that flood your spent body is reply enough.

He isn’t sure how long you stay like that—tangled together in paradise. You doze off, dipping in and out of consciousness, and wake just after the buttery sun slips entirely behind the horizon. Through the darkness surrounding your bare bodies, silvery moonlight replaces the golden rays of sunshine, but you—and your ring—shine as if nothing's changed.

You keep up a quiet conversation. Nothing of importance is spoken; it's carried on purely for the enjoyment of one another’s voice. Mitch peppers your skin, sticky from humidity and exertion, with tender lips, and you return the favor tenfold. You’re both smiling so wide, so happily.

And you keep grinning into the night, even when your cheeks begin to ache. It’s only when the light breeze ghosts over your bare skin that either of you consider relocating. In no rush and reluctant to leave your deep warmth, he’s leisurely about moving into the dim suite.

Mitch freezes abruptly. His stomach splatters at his feet when his mind catches up to his instincts. Murmuring. He hears murmuring. Terror races down his spine like an ice-cold chill. It's quiet at first. Almost as if the evening wind picked up a distant conversation yards away and softly settled it in his paranoid eardrums. He can’t make out any particular words—except his last name.

His mood sours beyond repair with the realization that the juvenile whispering is much too close, the giggles muffled only by the permeable wall of greenery bordering the suite’s ground-floor patio.

“We just wanted to be the first to say congratulations!” A teenage voice devoid of tact and respect calls out above a chorus of snorts and giggles.

Mortified, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. His chain is cold in comparison to your shame.

Mitch growls and reaches beside the chaise. He shouts something that would’ve made even the most shameless of shit-talkers blush, then sends a half-empty bottle of Dom Pérignon clear through the leaves. It shatters, and the crisp bubbles spill out on the concrete, sending the herd of inconsiderate assholes scattering like mice.

“I’ll go pick up the glass,” he sighs, knowing you’ll chastise him for the mess. "—later."

Mitch couldn’t be honest with the journalist.

He wouldn’t even if he could.

He shares so much of himself and his life with the world already—a hazard of the flashy, public-facing occupation he chose—and you’ve offered up far more of your world than he’d ever ask of you. He doesn’t mind a photo here or a video there, sometimes a press junket or two in a philanthropic context, but Mitch won’t bring the media into your private moments beyond where they’ve already encroached.

Especially not for a leading question intended to bait him into saying something stupid. Or to prematurely announce the impending arrival of your first child.

So, instead, he simply says, “Towels. But if the Four Seasons—or my future wife—asks, I’m totally joking, and I definitely put them all back.”

⤑ to my inbox💌

⬸ back to the catalog  (writing masterlist) 

⬸ back to the main blog 

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

[hockeybabe]

mitchie marny please n thanks 🙏🏼

Photoshoot | M.Marner

Not my gif

Pairings: Mitch Marner x fem!figure skater

Summary: you get an offer to represent leafs merch with Mitch

Warnings: swearing, make out session, fade to black smut, Mitch’s a nice guy

Word count: 612

Note: first off I choose a cute imagine. But I really want to thank you guys for the appreciation on Sneak Away like lots of love. Also major thank you for the 300 followers. Love you all so much.

When you had first got the call to do the shoot, you were over the moon. You’d been living in Toronto for as long as you could remember and living there also meant living so close to a rink to practice for all competitions. To most countries you were another figure skater, but to Canada you were a sensation, very close to Tessa Virtue. 

When your coach told you that the leafs wanted to partner with you, you couldn’t help but be excited. So here you were walking down a tunnel following your stylist and a leafs representative. “Okay so Y/N, you’re going to change into these and we’ll see you back in that room.” They told you, handing you a jersey.

It was a regular leafs jersey with the blue being the prominent colour however, this jersey had the All-Star patch on the shoulder. You examined the jersey, looking at the back number, number 16, Marner. Your heart gushed and a blush rose to your cheeks.

You walked out of the change room and headed to the studio for where you’d be taking the photos. “You look great!” Your stylist gushed. “So we’re gonna have you stand there and Mitch over here will be right behind you.” The photographer said, pointing to Mitch who was beside him.

You nod your head, allowing the stylist and photographer to walk away, leaving you alone with Mitch. “Hey, sorry about the late notice. I thought they would’ve told you,” Mitch says nervously while shaking your hand. “Oh, no it’s fine. Makes me feel less nervous.” You say, giving Mitch a bright smile.

“This makes you nervous?” He motions to the photoshoot going on behind him. “Not all the times you perform in front of hundred of people.” You laugh at his exaggeration. “between you and me, the ice is my home. There’s no fear, there is only peace.”

Mitch looks at you with such adoration. All the words you were saying to him about skating are just what he felt when he played hockey. Although no one enjoys losing, he still felt better on ice than walking on concrete.

“Okay, you two lovey eye makers, time to do the shoot!” The photographer shouts. You and Mitch both blush but comply. The photoshoot went on calmly. You felt more comfortable knowing Mitch was in the room and the fact that he was whispering nice things in your ear and some poses being of him holding your waist and you two smiling at each other.

“Last shot. Mitch, I want you to point to y/n’s back while she stands facing you. So her face won’t be in shot.” The guy explains. You turned around to face Mitch to see him already staring at you before posing for the camera. You stared at him during the time and you could see the smirk growing on Mitch’s face.

“That’s it, folks! Good job everyone!” The photographer yelled out, already putting his equipment away. “Well, that’s it.” You say, facing Mitch, fiddling with your hand. “Maybe it can be a bit more.” He says confidently.

A half an hour later, you back at Mitch’s apartment and you back against his door and your lips attached to one another. You moan into Mitch’s mouth as he runs his hands over your body, feeling very curve. “Good, you’re so beautiful.” He groans, looking up and down your body.

“We should probably take this to your bedroom.” You suggest playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. “Yeah, one hundred percent.” He says, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips. “If we make it there.” He mumbles before crashing his lips to yours.

[cuttergauthier]

New Leaf | One

Au Summary: In which a hockey sister falls for her enemy who also happens to be her brother's new teammate.  Yn Matthews and Matthew Knies never got along, what happens when Matthew becomes a Maple Leaf.

Matthew Knies x Matthews au

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN

Social Media | Real Life

National Hockey League | Toronto Maple Leaf

Word Count: 1.3k 

Au's Masterlist

Warning: This Story will contain Mature Language, Alcohol consumption, Against, fluff, Time jumps

I’ve been living in Toronto for the past two years. I’m a sophomore at the University of Toronto.

My older brother Auston plays for the Toronto Maple Leafs. When he first moved to Toronto, I missed him a lot so I decided to apply to Toronto. When I got excepted Auston was excited to be close to me again. Even though he’s 5 years older than me I’ve always been closer to him.

My first year here I lived in a dorm room, this year I wanted to live on my own so my brother helped me find an apartment where I could afford on my own even though he argued about it, I never want to have to depend on my brother for his money, even though he keeps saying he doesn’t care, but when I told him I wanted to pay for my own place he agree after about a month as long the apartment was in a safe neighbourhood.

This morning my brother called me after I got out of class to ask if I wanted to go watch their practice. I had nothing to do so I said yes.

The guys have been like my brothers since the moment I met them all, they always have my back. Auston said that Steph was going to be there, she’s Mitch’s Fiancé, she is the wag who I’ve always been the closest with since the day I met her, she became like an older sister to me. I tell her everything, if I ever need advice, she’s the one I talk to.

I took an uber to the arena since Steph and I always go out for coffee after we do this. I finally arrived at the arena and made my way to the stands to meet Steph.

When she saw me she smiled, she pulled me in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, I miss you” she said, I chuckled.

“You literally saw me two days ago” I said

“I know but I still missed you”

“I missed you to”

We sat down and started talking, the guys aren’t on the ice yet.

“You’re going to see the new rookie today,” she said smiling.

“New rookie?” I asked confused

“Yeah, his college season just ended so the leafs signed him”

“Oh nice”

“According to Mitch, he’s really good and he’s your age,” she said, smirking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“well you are single”

“Oh shut up” I said laughing.

“He’s number 23” she said as the boys started to get on the ice.

I looked up and saw who she was talking about, he looks familiar.

“What’s his name?”

“Um I think Mitch said Matt Knies” she said

I whipped my head around and looked at her with wide eyes.

“WHAT!?” I whispered.

Her eyes widened.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I know him, why did the leafs have to sign him?” I sighed.

“What’s wrong with him? according to Mitch he’s really good.”

“I know he is… he’s from Arizona, we have the same friends back home, we went to the same high school but we never got along.”

“Omg really? Does your brother know about this?” she asked

“He might I don’t know, I never mentioned him before, really i’m closer with the doan’s and knies’ brother Phil”

“Well maybe it’s a sign for you guys to finally get along since you’re both in the same city again” she said smiling.

“I hope because if not, being in Toronto is going to feel like hell”

“It will be fine, don’t worry, and I’m sure if he says or does something, your brother and the guys will have your back” she said smiling. I gave her a soft smile.

We continued watching practice, once it was over the guys started making there way off the ice, Mich, Auston and matthew are standing by the bench talking. Mitch turned our way and waved happily, he might be 26 but he acts like a kid sometimes. Steph and I waved back chuckling. Both Auston and Matthew looked our way, Matthew looked straight at me shocked, his jaw dropped. He regained his composure before my brother or Mitch noticed.

Once they got off the ice, Steph looked at me smirking.

“What?”

“He definitely noticed you” she said, chuckling.

“Shut up” I scoffed.

We made our way out of the arena and to Steph’s car. Steph started Driver to (Your Favorite coffee place). Once we got there we both ordered our coffees and sat down at a table closest to the window.

Steph looked at me and smiled.

“What now?” i asked chuckling.

“What is it between you and Matthew that you don’t get along?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. We’ve been going to the same school since we were kids, we both had the same friends like I said, I was close with Gracie Doan while her brother was close with Matthew, as we grew up, we all became like a group all of us along with Matthew’s older brother. He’s just been a jerk to me since middle school, it never changed” I told her honestly.

“Have you ever thought that maybe he has a crush on you? I mean that’s usually what kids do when they have a crush” she said.

I scoffed.

“There’s no way Matthew ever had a crush on me.”

“You never know Yn, what about you, have you ever had a crush on him?” she asked curiously. I laughed.

“Obviously, i’m not blind, he's good looking steph” i said smiling, too bad he’s a jerk when it comes to me. Steph smiled before taking a drink of her coffee.

“Well, let’s hope something good comes from him being in toronto and being your brother’s teammate.” she said

“Same but i doubt it’ll end with us getting together steph”

“Never say never Yn” she said smirking. I shock my head in disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah whatever” i said and she laughed.

“Moving on, how are your classes? Are you almost done?” she asked

“Yeah, i only have one exam left then year 2 will be over” i said smiling.

“I’m glad”

Steph dropped me off at my apartment. It’s now noon, I took my school stuff out of my bag so I could study a little for my exam.

I studied for about an hour before taking a break. I went on my phone and texted Phil, Matthew’s brother, he’s one of my closest friends.

Yn: Why couldn’t you have warned me that your brother signed?!?!

Phil: Thought it would be a good surprise ���

Yn: I hate you so much right now!

Phil: No you don’t!

Phil: Did you see him?

Yn: Yes! I went to watch practice earlier with Steph, she’s the one who told me, then I saw him!

Phil: Sorry Yn :/ Did he see you?

Yn: Yes and he was shocked!

Phil: You two are going to have to get a long sometime!

Yn: You know damn well that won’t happen anytime soon!

Phil: Let me dream!

Yn: 😂

Phil: I’ll see you in a few days, we're coming down to Toronto For his NHL debut! (Pretend His debut was in Toronto)

Yn: At least i get to see you and your parents!

[lvrhughes]

Zeus' Day | M. Marner

pairing: Mitch Marner x gn!reader

Word count: 0.7k

warnings: allusions to sex, kissing?

requested: yes

not my gif!

“Zeus!” you woke up to Mitch groaning at the dog, getting up to see him standing in the kitchen with spilt pancake batter. You laughed at the scene, Zeus now licking up the batter.

“What happened?” Clearly Mitch wasn’t paying attention to anything other than his dog, jumping at the sound of your voice.

“Jeez, Zeus jumped and knocked the bowl off the counter.” you laughed at the explanation, making Mitch roll his eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s his birthday.” you said, petting the dog. Zeus basking in the attention, rolling over at the touch, sliding the bowl further over on the floor. 

You would’ve never known Mitch was taking a picture had it not been for the click with a ‘oops’ muttered behind you. Turning to see him, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Mitchell,” 

“Be nice, you love me, remember?” 

You didn’t answer that time, jumping at him instead. Unprepared for the force, he almost fell, stumbling back before wrapping his arms around you. Keeping you tight against him before peppering you with kisses, making you laugh, the noise bringing Zeus over. When Mitch fell back onto the couch, Zeus clearly thought it was the perfect time to join. Jumping on the couch, smothering Mitch in the process, before settling on the unused cushion beside the two of you. 

You rolled off Mitch, moving to Zeus, giving him more affection for the day.

“Why are you giving my dog more affection than me?” 

“Because it’s his birthday.”

The next few hours were spent similarly, with Mitch complaining and you saying it was Zeus’ day. 

“I’ll make a deal, we were doing this either way, but we make Zeus a cake and then you give me some attention?”

“Deal.” you grinned, pulling him into the kitchen, finding everything you’d need. 

“Okay, what’s the first step?” 

It was a pretty simple recipe, easy to follow. Zeus’ cake was done in an hour, decorating and all.

“Zeus!” Mitch called for him, you stood back, recording the scene. Zeus came running in, sliding up to Mitch. Mitch leaned down, placing the cake on the ground for Zeus, where he dug in immediately. 

The cake was gone in minutes, laughing as Zeus made a mess everywhere with it, knowing you’d need to clean it up in a few minutes. Mitch grabbed the plate from the dog, tossing it into the sink before giving Zeus a bit of attention, you still stood recording the entire moment before posting it on instagram. Then cleaning up all the missed cake, throwing it out after offering it to Zeus, who refused. When you thought the kitchen was clean, you ventured to the living room, where Mitch was on the couch with Zeus, tucked against his side, so you quickly took a picture, posting it on your story and tagging Mitch. 

Looking through Mitch’s story after, seeing all the photos of Zeus he posted and he shared your story on his too. 

“What happened to needing all my attention? You seem pretty content with Zeus.” he rolled his eyes, pulling you onto his lap. 

“I love my dog, don’t get me wrong, but your attention is so much better.” leaning in to kiss you, giving you the time to wrap your arms around his neck first and tangle through his hair. Chasing your lips when you tried to pull away, keeping you pressed into him, until Zeus whined beside. 

You took the moment to pull away, looking at the dog.

“What’s up buddy?” He whined again, pushing himself between the two of you. “You’re jealous huh? Just like your daddy.” you giggled, Mitch's fingers tickling your sides.  

“Take it back!” he chanted, still running his fingers along your sides to elicit laughter from you. 

“Never!” and so he didn’t stop, instead laying you on the couch, Zeus falling on you, to get better leverage. “Okay! Okay, I surrender! I take it back.” finally he let off, shooing Zeus off you to fall on top of you. 

“Are you happy now? You got all my attention.” you played at Mitch, him nuzzling into you. 

“Meh, could have more.” you could feel his smirk as he said the words, slightly muffled. You smacked his back lightly. 

“Mitchell!” you groaned.

“What? I’m sure Zeus wouldn’t mind, he can live without your affection for a few hours.”

“Mitchell Marner, we are not ditching your dog on his birthday.”

“But-”

“No, it’s Zeus day.”

[bagopucks]

please please please tell me I did not read that Mitch mixes ice cream into his soup.

You certainly did read it like that. I just might write a blurb about it too…

[3416]

the thing is, i wouldn't be nearly as bothered about mitch not being on the top line if it wasn't being treated as some kind of proof that he's never been good enough to play there and that it hurts the team or drags auston down when he does. i don't care about domi ultimately, he's an effective player (when he's not taking boneheaded penalties) and obviously it helps to spread out our best guys to make each line that little bit harder to play against by forcing the other team to decide how to matchup. whatever. i don't agree with keefe's choices there but i get the intent.

what i do care about is one of the best players this franchise has ever seen being treated like some kind of anchor holding the team (and auston specifically) back from achieving greatness and using domi's success with auston (BECAUSE of auston tyvm) to paint him as some selfish jealous (genuinely wtf @ this fanfiction in particular coming from an actual media guy) brat pouting over being ~demoted~ when he's never not done what has been asked of him (which is literally fucking everything) and has always been fully on board any time he's been paired with johnny!! or anyone else!! like these are all mitch's guys!!! he loves them and this team /so much/!!!! like i genuinely can't imagine the list of things he loves more than being a leaf is very long

i'm just so tired of so many (non-tumblr) fanspaces being dominated by people who have made an entire personality out of treating him like one of the worst things that's ever happened to the leafs (and, again, auston specifically) because idk they hate his dumb dad (welcome to the club weirdos!!!) and/or can't "forgive" him for his contract. even the critique of him in the playoffs is overblown in comparison to the rest of the team and the goalposts for what it means to be a ~playoff performer~ always seem to find a way to shift as needed to single him out as some kind of unique failure among the group which.. rme for all time

anyway sorry for venting lmao it's just such a bummer but WHATEVER here's to mitchell daniel marner having the best damn playoffs of his damn life!!!!!!!! go leafs go

ohhh anon. so many things i can (and will) say here, but you and i are totally on the same wavelength, lol. that's what has made this stretch so much worse imo... auston on a hot streak with two mid guys and workable chemistry (for now) all around, and we try spreading out the "offense" but actually... for the leafs... i think spreading the offense is less what we're doing w 1634 and more... shifting defensive responsibility off of our 'top' line and giving them easier matchups by putting the tougher ones with the mcmann-jt-marner line bc mitch is there now to take on some more defensive responsibility that isn't doable by players like willy/whoever else plays rw there. (which annoys me in it's own way bc it makes the 'top' line look more impressive stat wise while not even dealing with the most dangerous 'top' line on the other team, lol but.. it's still gonna require auston to be On Top of it all the time bc he's by himself defensively.. only reason it annoys me is the discourse afterward too like anyway). mitch and auston are our best all around players by quite a bit, lol, so i get WHY splitting them up works well too, but when people get mad that they're together so much... when they've proven to work better and be more dangerous year after year as a duo... i mean, peoples anger should be at the rest of the lineup that sometimes doesn't pull their own weight in that regard, lol. i get the experiment we're running rn. i'm not confident it will work, but we will see. i don't care if it does or doesn't... doesn't change the fact that ultimately, i know they want to play together the most and that hasn't changed bc of some randos that came in this year so. i genuinely think auston requests to play with mitch often after not being allowed to for a couple years, and this year he's sucking it up for the playoffs and trying something different for the sake of the team.

as for the way a lot of people treat mitch as expendable... it's so frustrating to me too... just the double standards abt him vs anyone else are insane. even tonight, seeing people lose their fucking minds over max reposting a fan's hype video without credit and assuming he made it (?? lol) and drooling all over themselves about how he "has the passion", but like... mitch had a video made last year and people were telling him to get off social media and perform better in the playoffs in the exact same spaces like. if he even comes on social media near the playoffs, it's always just hateful. honestly.... so many leaf fans don't deserve him and don't deserve to see a cup in their entire lifetimes either, lol. it makes my relationship with this team so much more complicated to have such a hate for the fanbase like that. like . this year, i just care so much less about the team as a whole too. i'm less connected to the overall results, lmao. i love the leafs and want my guys specifically to be able to win the cup in their lifetime more than anything, but i realllyyy don't care about some of these ppl on our team and i hate how the worst fans in this fanbase feel so vindicated over the dumbest ugliest shit. like i'd give anything to not have to see braindead opinions for a single day. as much as i'm rooting for them, if this isn't the year... well. we move, lol. i wouldn't die! (which is exactly why they'll prob do it this year lol) i'll feel competitive while watching the playoffs, esp vs the bruins, but like... whatever happens happens man. my men will be coming back and i hope some other ones won't, regardless of playoff results. sometimes it's even less about the player himself and more about the idiots attached.

all i literally care about this year is mitch's performance since we're going into a contract year for him. nothing he could possibly do would get people off his back but that, and somehow his points never seem to matter in the playoffs bc they're in games we're already winning ?? but yeah. the willy is our best playoff performer narrative makes me fucking laugh man........ like people will lower their standards and move their goalposts and do ANYTHING to make it seem like mitch is cancerous and the reason we keep losing and everyone else steps up when he doesn't and it's just a fucking lie. morgan is the only one with visible elevation in the playoffs imo, and . idk. maybe the way the team's structured rn and shifting players to different lines will work. maybe it won't. we won a round not doing it last year, so it's not like that's THE make or break thing and we haven't even seen this lineup play a single meaningful game in the last month fnlkdsjf or a singular playoff game so. it's all a LOT of big talk. at the end of the day.. if the leafs ever make it to the cup.. itll be 1634 passing it to each other and their names next to each other and that's all i want for them, honestly. leafs duo of all time regardless of the dumbasses the 23-24 season has emboldened.

[nhlbadimagines]

Imagine...

going on a date with mitch marner and he accidentally pushes you off the bridge.

source

[running-on-fanfiction]

Mitch Marner - Watching you makes me smile.

Can I request a Mitch Marner that his you him bringing your guys daughter to one of TML Games

A/N: This is the last of the hockey in my inbox. Again, I’m not taking any Hockey request right now. -Jules

Millie, had just turned two and while she was still learning to talk and still fumbled with walking there was one thing she loved more than anything. Watching he daddy skate. 

You and your husband had no clue why, but it was the only time you could get Millie to really laugh. Which, just raised more questions, since Millie was scared of the ice. 

It broke Mitch’s heart the first time he tried to get her on the ice. She let out the more bone chilling cry. You had to reassure him, that she would grow out of the whole scared phase, but of course that didn’t make your husband anymore happy. 

Tonight, however made your husband really happy. Tonight, Millie would be watching her daddy play in person. 

“Millie, come here and let momma, fix your jersey.” You cooed as you scooped up the small child. She gave you a hard glare as you messed with her shirt. 

Millie, was a sassy baby, and you were sure it was due to her Uncle Auston.  

“Don’t give me that look, little miss.” You laughed as you, two walked down the isles of chairs. 

Mitch, made sure you had a front row seat, near him. He wanted Millie to feel at home and too get a good look at her papa. 

Millie’s eyes grew as she saw her dad, skate over to the glass. He little hands clapped together as she let out a loud squealed. 

“Is that daddy.” You cheered as you pointed towards Mitch. 

Mitch, blew a kiss to you two as he got closer. Once he was standing right in front of you Millie, made the up motion with her body, making you two laugh. 

“You want to get closer.” You laughed as you moved her to the front of the glass. 

“DA!” She squealed. She had yet to finish the whole word, but something about Da made Mitch much more happier. 

Mitch, stood there making faces at his daughter until it was time for the players to head back to the bench. 

“I gotta go baby, but daddy love you!” Mitch yelled before skating off. Leaving you with a giggly little girl.

-Julianne

[nylwnder]

all i want for christmas is you | mitch marner

a/n: i’m sorry the series went completely off schedule but i’m back and pls enjoy the remaining 5 <3

warnings: fluffy, friends to lovers (yet again haha)

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @bb-nhlqueen7 , @sebbyaho , @swedishprince88 , @nilspettersson , @boqvistsbabe , @oliviapangburn118 , @brandtsclarke , @stars-canucks , @drei-mrssvechii , @joeljuice

inspired by: all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey

series masterpost: 10 days of christmas

the whole scotiabank arena cheered as the maple leafs scored yet another goal - leading by 4. i smiled as i looked down at the ice with my friend. the captain, john tavares had scored with a saucy pass by the one and only mitch marner.

i watch as mitch cellys with his teammates, a huge smile plastered on his face. his eyes move towards the crowd and he catches mine, his smile only growing just like me.

the game ended not too long after, but everyone waited as they announced the three stars of the game. when mitch came out, gaining the third star, he threw his stick to a kid not too far from my seats. before he headed back into the tunnel, he mouthed ‘wait for me by the locker room’.

mitch and i had just reconnected a few months ago after not talking for around four years. we used to be super close friends at school but i went to study abroad and mitch pursued his hockey career so we just fell out. but the day i saw him again, i had feelings rushing over me just like the ones i always used to have.

victoria and i got up as a security guard led us to where the locker room was. “the femine urge to just walk into that locker room” she joked as she eyed the doors. i laughed, not lying that i was feeling the same thing.

“so are you going to be spending christmas with mitchy?” she asked, curious if he’s let me know of any plans yet. “well i want to! he leaves for a road trip tonight, but he’s scheduled to get back by christmas eve” i said, happy as i picture all the cute things we could be able to do once he gets back.

“hey y/n!!” he says as he walks out and hugs me, “hiiii mitch!!, oh um, mitch this is victoria” i said as i guided him to her direction. he smiled and he hugged her as well “hi, nice to meet you! did you study abroad with y/n too?” she smiled, “yeah, we found out we were both from toronto on the first day!”

he nodded, “well i’m happy you weren’t alone alone” mitch said as he looked over at me. i smiled in return as others came out and we parted to make some room.

“oh wait, mitch is that her??” one of the boys asked as he walked up and put a hand on mitchy’s shoulder. mitch looked down shyly as he nodded, “yeah, y/n this is willy, willy that's y/n and her friend victoria” he says. the blonde walked up with a smile and hugged both victoria and i. “its nice to meet the two of you! and y/n, we’ve heard a ton about you. give him some good luck for the road trip if you can” willy says as he winks and walks away.

i laughed as mitch led us out to the private parking lot. “wow willy is cute” victoria whispers in my ear quickly, smirking. as we stopped near the bus, victoria said “i’ll head over to the car, leave you two to have a minute” i nodded as she walked to the direction of the car.

as i looked back to mitch, his sad and tired eyes were staring at me. “so the long road trip….” i said. “yeah,” he takes a deep breath “i’m going to be home on the 24th, and i um, i wanted to ask if you’d ahh like to ummm…”

“he’d like it if you'd spend christmas at his place cause he’s pretty lonely” a boy with dark hair said as he walked away quickly. mitch turned around and gave the man a vex stare. “well yeah” he says, his face red and his eyes looking around before he settles on you.

i smile, it’s what i wanted in the first place and i didn’t even know if he’d want the same thing so i said “yes, of course, i don’t have much plans for myself anyways” a smile popped on his face, “great!! okay, well i’ll call you then”

“sounds good!!” i say as i hug him; it ends up being one of those types of hugs where you have to force yourself to let go even if you don’t want to at all. i wait as he jogs to his bus and waves right before he goes in. i grin to myself as i walk to my car.

—

the 24th of december came, mid noon as i sat in my living room taking a nap on the couch. the was until my phone began ringing, i picked up as i saw mitch’s picture appear on my screen “hey mitch, what’s up?”

“hey y/n, have you seen outside?!” he asked, “ummm no my curtains are down but hold on,” i got up and walked to my windows, the whole city was covered with a sheet of snow, and the visibility staggering as more snow was coming down “oh wow” i said.

he laughed a bit, “yup, it’s even worse here in edmonton” i turned back to my couch, “so you’re not coming back today are you?” i asked.

i heard a door closing and a loud sigh before mitch answered, “yup. we’re hoping it clears by the night time but knowing canada’s bipolar weather, that probably won’t happen”

now it was my turn to sigh, “i was really looking forward to seeing you today” i said with a sluggish tone. “me too, me too”

“mitch?” i asked softly. “yeah?”

“if i won’t be able to see you today, or even tomorrow, i wanted to get something off my chest” i said, bringing up the courage to say what i was planning on saying - i was hoping there would be a fire behind us and whip cream moustaches from our hot coco. “what is it?” he asks.

“well, since i saw you for the first time in a couple years i had so many feelings rush over me-” i took a deep breath, “the whole time we were friends in middle school and high school i really really-”

“i love you” mitch says quickly. i could tell there was a bit of panic laced in his actions, but maybe i was also just taking too long to spit it out. “yeah, me too” i say shyly.

“i know how you feel, trust me the amount of times i wanted to tell you and the few times i tried” a nervous laugh escaped his lips. “so i wasn’t alone” i said, snickering a bit.

“you never were” i could hear his smile on the other side, which only made me have one myself. “okay can you try to come home as soon as you can? i really need one of your hugs right now haha” i said cuddling into my couch once again.

“i promise” he says, before a voice comes and tells him something. we said our goodbyes and ended the call. i started to find some available work postings i could apply to and other things i needed to do before the night fall. i also called my parents even though i saw them a day ago. without knowing, i fell asleep at some point and awoke with a few sounds coming from my door.

confused, i wiped my eyes and slowly walked to the door, looking through the peephole first. when i saw the light brown hair and blue eyes through the small circular window, i immediately opened the door and swung myself onto mitch.

i heard him laugh as his equipment bag fell to the ground. “mitchy!!” i said, hugging him even tighter. “i’m here y/n” he says as he snuggles his head into my hair.

i let go of him as i pull him inside, “what time is it?” i asked as he grabbed his bag and put it near the door, kicking off his shoes and following me to my room. “around 4 in the morning” he says as i drag him down to my bed with me.

“and i get to have what i wanted after all” i say as he puts me under the covers and holds me tight. “we both do” he says, placing a kiss on my head.

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

[hugheswhore]

let’s just take a moment to look at this fine man

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

What Once Was

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​

Requested: Yes – McMo Anon

Tagging: @captainpetty​

Fandom: NHL  

Relationship: Pre-Established; Mitch Marner x Reader

Summary: You and Mitch were childhood best friends that fell out of touch when he became a Maple Leaf. Looking to avoid the drama surrounding his contract negotiations, Mitch decides to spend the summer at his parent’s cabin. When you go to visit your own cabin next door, you and Mitch see each other for the first time in three years.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Alcohol.

Comments: As always, thanks to @butcanijustnot​ for helping me when I needed it! xx

It had been a few years since you had last seen Mitch. The last time you had seen him, he was in junior, and now he’s a superstar lightening it up in the NHL. You were incredibly proud of him, but that didn’t mean you weren’t sad that the two of you no longer spoke.

Even as the two of you fell out of contact with one another, you still followed him and his career. You watched the 2015 draft and watched as he was drafted to his childhood dream team. You watched as he won the OHL championship, the 99 Award, the Memorial Cup, and the Memorial Cup MVP. You watched as he made it into the NHL and only got better.

You knew Mitch was a great hockey player, you had watched as he become one, but he seemed to get better season after season with the Leafs, climbing all the way up to first line.

And then his contract was up and the negotiations began, as did all the “Marner slander.” A lot of people said a lot of really nasty things, some of which made your stomach turn. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling…

So, it maybe shouldn’t have been that big of a surprise when you went up North to your isolated cabin on the side of a small lake and found Mitch already there at his family’s neighbouring cabin.

But it was a surprise because Mitch hadn’t visited the cabin in years, since juniors. Since that last time you saw him…

And there he was, playing with a chocolate lab puppy in the yard, smiling and laughing. Far away from cell signal and all the drama facing him in Toronto.

Your mom handed you the newspaper and a loaf of banana bread and sent you over to the Marners’. While Mitch hadn’t been there in years, his family had, and both of your families stayed very close, especially his and your moms. It was routine to bring them the paper and some sort of baked good.

You walked over and up the deck stairs and knocked on the door. You had no idea that Mitch had stopped playing with Zeus to watch you. It had been a while, too long, since he last saw you and you had changed a lot over that time. Both of you had. Both of you were still kids the last time he saw you, and now he has an NHL player and you were going to graduate university.

Both of you had grown up. And his heart hurt knowing that he had missed it all.

Growing up, you and him had been inseparable. You guys spent hours upon hours together, laughing and having fun, you guys had been best friends, and the fact that you grew apart was his fault.

“(Y/N)!” Mitch’s mom said happily, giving you a hug. You laughed and did your best to hug her back with all you had in your hands.

“Hi, Bonnie. It’s good to see you.” You gave her the paper and the banana bread and continued to talk to her for a while longer before you turned to head back to your cabin to unpack your bags. But, blocking your way off the deck was Mitch. His mom closed the door knowingly, leaving the two of you alone on the deck.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning against the railing.

“Hi?” You replied, though it came out more of a question.

“It’s uh… You look good.” He said, his lips twitching upwards into a small smile.

“Uh, thanks? You do, too? Big fancy hockey player and all that.” You said, forcing a smile to cover up how much it hurt to talk to someone you used to be inseparable with like this, like strangers. “You should have made the All-Star team.”

Your comment caught Mitch off guard. “What?”

You shrugged. “You should have been on the Atlantic All-Star team, you had a great season.”

“You watched?” Was all Mitch could say.

You nodded. “Of course. I never stopped.”

Something in Mitch changed at your words, though you couldn’t pin point what it was. But, you knew Mitch well enough to catch that there was something. If you had been anyone else, you were sure you would have missed it, but you weren’t anyone else. Mitch was a language you fell out of practice with, but somehow could still read.

Still, Mitch stayed silent. You took a deep breath and gestured towards your cabin just beyond the thin line of trees separating your two properties.

“I should get going. Go unpack and stuff.” You told him. Mitch nodded and stepped aside so that you could get past him and down the deck. Mitch watched you as you walked away, but he didn’t say anything, he just let you leave.

—

It was a couple hours later when there was a knock on the door. You looked up from your book to look at the clock and saw that it was a little past 8pm. It was odd that there was a knock at the door this late, but you shrugged and went back to your book, figuring it was for your mother or grandmother.

A few moments later, however, there was a soft knock on your open bedroom door and you looked up to see Mitch standing in the doorway with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, a Red Bull snapback backwards on his head. It was a look you had seen often when you watched his pre and post game interviews.

Nonetheless, you were surprised to see him standing there.

“Hi?” You asked him softly, putting your bookmark in the book to mark your page before closing it.

“Hey.” He said softly, leaning slightly on your door. You were so used to seeing smiling, happy, confident “a face of the Leafs” Mitch, that this quiet, unsure Mitch was so odd. It made your heart hurt, reminding you how different both of you were from the last time you saw each other, how much his appearance to the media could be a lie.

He cleared his throat. “My family is having a bonfire right now, I was just wondering if you want to join? We have beer?”

You stayed quiet for a moment, weighing your options. It was, in all honesty, probably not a good idea. You hadn’t spoken to him in years, you didn’t really even know him anymore. Spending time with him would be weird and in a few days or weeks, you didn’t know, he would go back to Toronto and leave you once again and that wasn’t a pain you needed to go through again.

But you found yourself nodding.

Mitch gave you a smile and you knew you had made the right choice.

You put your book on the bedside table and got up, grabbing your sweater which had the name of your university across the chest and pulling it on before walking towards where Mitch stood at the door. You gestured for him to move so you could follow him, but he didn’t move. Instead, his eyes rested on your chest.

“That’s a really good school.” He said, looking up at you.

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Mitch gave you a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. Before you could say anything else, he turned and started walking through the cabin to the back door so that the two of you could head back to his property.

—

“How is your degree going?” Bonnie asked.

You smiled. “It’s really good. I’m going into my final year, so that’s exciting. I have a few post-grad programs I’m looking into right now and I’m hopeful I’ll get into at least one of them.” You laughed lightly at the end before taking a sip of the beer in your hand. Mitch watched you, listening intently.

She shook her head. “You’re going to get into them all and have your pick of the litter, I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you.” You said. Things fell quiet for a few minutes, everyone just enjoying the warmth of the fire and the soothing popping sound of the wood burning. You were pulled out of your trance by Mitch standing up.

“I’m getting another beer, want one?”

You picked up your beer to see how much was left and nodded to him. “Yes please, thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiled.

He came back a few minutes later with the whole case. You raised an eyebrow at him. “And what do you need that much beer for?”

He gave you his signature Mitch smile that you recognized and put the case between the two of you before sitting down in his chair next to you. “I didn’t know how much we’d go through and I didn’t want to keep getting up, so I thought it would be easier to just bring the case.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and Mitch’s smile only widened before he reached into the case and pulled out a can, handing it to you. You were surprised to find it cool.

“I pulled the case from the cellar so they’re at least a little cool and not gross warm beer.” He said as if he could read your mind.

You stayed out there by the fire for a while, drinking beer after beer with Mitch to the point that the two of you had a pile of empty cans between you far larger than you had expected to grow in that time. And as time stretched on, one by one Mitch’s family left to go bed until it was just you and Mitch left around the fire, talking and laughing as if the two of you had never stopped.

“You did not hang your teammate’s underwear off the balcony.” You got out between laughs.

Mitch was leaning back in his chair laughing with you and he nodded. “Oh, but I did. I mean, Willy got me back, but I did do it.”

You could only laugh harder, leaning forwards because of how hard you were laughing. Once you managed to stop laughing, Mitch gave you a ‘serious’ look that made you giggle a little.

“No, don’t laugh, I have a serious question.” He said, leaning on his arm rest to look at you. You bit your lip to keep from laughing and nodded, leaning on your arm rest to look at him, the small distance between the two of you lessening. “Who’s your favourite Toronto Maple Leaf?” He asked.

You burst out laughing and leaned back in your chair.

“It’s a serious question!” He cried and you laughed harder.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You said, trying to calm yourself down. “Ummmm, my favourite Leaf… I would probably have to say Morgan Rielly? Or maybe Nylander?” You said with a smile, teasing the man next to you.

“Oh?” He asked softly, not finding it funny as you did.

You smile dropped a bit and you reached out to touch his arm. It was the first time either of you had touched in years. It could have been weird or surprising, but it felt natural. “No, silly. You’re my favourite Leaf, you always have been.”

Mitch looked up from where he was looking at your hand on his arm, his eyes soft. “Really?”

You smiled. “Well, after Mats Sundin, but you get the point.” That comment actually got a laugh out of him and he nodded.

“That’s fair.” Still, there was something in his voice. He didn’t sound as happy as you might have hoped for.

“What’s the matter?” You asked.

Mitch shrugged and took a long drink of his beer, finishing it in the process, throwing it into the growing pile of cans. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” He said before grabbing another beer out of the case and opening it.

You furrowed your brows. “I’m worrying about it, you can tell me. I promise I won’t go leaking your secrets. I haven’t yet.” You added on at the end, getting a twitch of a smile from him.

He sighed. “I just… I don’t know if I’m even going to be a Leaf this season. Or ever again…”

You reached over to touch him again, this time firmer than last time. “You’re going to be a Leaf. It’ll all work out, I promise.” You told him, despite the fact that you had no idea how the negotiations were going.

He shrugged and raised his beer to his lips, probably drinking about half the can before resting it on his thigh. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about something else.”

You nodded and pulled your hand away from him. You knew better than to keep asking, and your stomach twisted knowing how he was feeling. But, at the same time, you felt a little happy that he was still willing to open up to you when he really had no reason to do so.

“You got a dog?” You said after a moment, looking for a happy topic.

Mitch immediately smiled. “Yeah, I did.” You laughed softly at his reaction.

“His name is Zeus and he’s a chocolate lab. He’s great, such a sweetheart. He loves to snuggle and he only chews the furniture sometimes.” He continued, laughing as he spoke. You couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, too, his laughter was too contagious.

The two of you drank more as you sat by the fire, Mitch adding more logs every time the fire began to die. Neither of you wanted the moment to end. After years apart, you guys were laughing and enjoying time together as if the last three years never happened, and neither of you wanted to pop the nice little bubble you were in, so you stayed by the fire longer than you should.

And as the night dragged on, it got colder, so yours chairs got closer and closer together, you looking for warmth from Mitch and eventually he went and got a blanket for the two of you, and a bottle of whiskey since the beer was no longer doing it for him.

And you and Mitch got really drunk really fast.

“You know,” Mitch said, in the midst of laughter neither of you seemed to be able to stop since the whiskey had come out. “I used to have the biggest crush on you.”

He continued to laugh, but the laughter had died right out of you. Mitch had drunk a LOT more than you, and you, appearently, were not nearly drunk enough to hear that.

“What?” You asked.

Mitch shrugged and took another swig from the bottle of the whiskey. “I did. You meant so much to me and it hurt so much that you never felt the same. I thought… I used to think that I would go to Toronto and my feelings for you would go away, but…” He shook his head. “I only ended up hating myself because I fucked it up, fucked all of it up, and lost you.”

You were not drunk enough to hear any of that. But, at the same time, you were too drunk to think clearly and too drunk to have a filter on your mouth.

“I used to have a crush on you, too, Mitch.” You replied, your voice a lot softer than his was when he confessed.

He kept his gaze on the fire before the two of you and you could see the flames reflecting in his eyes. You could tell by the tension in his jaw and the lack of focus in his eyes that he was feeling something and momentarily caught in his thoughts, but you had no idea what was going on in his head.

“You did?” He asked eventually, turning to look at you. His eyes had softened and if you knew him better, you would have said that he was in pain by your words.

“Yeah.” You breathed, keeping your gaze on him.

He looked at you for another moment before he took a shaky breath. “And do you still?” His voice was softer than before and he sounded more vulnerable.

“I…” You took a deep breath and looked away from him, turning your attention back to the fire. Mitch felt his heart drop and he regretted asking you that. “Mitch, I don’t think I ever stopped.” You said eventually, keeping your gaze on the fire, too afraid to look at Mitch. You had just gotten him back and now it felt like he was going to slip between your fingers once again.

Mitch let out a shaky breath and put the bottle of whiskey down beside him before turning to face you. When you didn’t look back at him, he gently cupped your cheek and turned you to look at him. His hand was cool from the night air and rough from the many years of hockey.

“I never stopped either.” He whispered, his eyes studying your face, occasionally dropping down to look at your lips. Your heart started pounding in your chest at his words and you didn’t know what to think let alone say.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice barely louder than the sound of the fire before you.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. Mitch’s eyes dropped down to your lips and slowly leaned in, tilting your head for a better angle. You let your eyes close as he got closer and then he was kissing you. It was soft, hesitant even, and you could taste the whiskey on him. You were sure he could taste the whiskey on you as well.

He pulled back after a moment and let his forehead rest against yours. Both of you keeping your eyes shut for a moment longer, taking the moment in. When you opened your eyes and pulled back from him, his blue eyes were looking back at you.

You always knew his eyes were blue, but you never really realized how blue they were. Or maybe you had forgotten… But they really were blue, and not in a cold blue that reminds you of ocean storms and winter, but a soothing blue that reminds you of home.

You gave him a small smile and leaned in to kiss him again, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw. He moved his hand to your hair and pulled you closer. This kiss was rougher than the first, more needy. It was a culmination of all the feelings the two of you had hid for years.

“Stay.” He breathed when the two of you finally parted.

“What?”

He gestured towards his cabin. “Stay the night.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he gave you a soft, reassuring smile. “I promise nothing will happen, I just… I just don’t want to be without you again.”

Your lips twitched up into a small smile and you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Okay.”

[plasticfilth]

Could you please do one with Mitch about that tik tok trend we’re just friends?? Ps love your writing 🥰

thank you, lovely !

“mitchy! come in here for a sec,” you’d holler from another room, hearing the footsteps of your best friend echo through the hall as he jogs to you.

he gives you a nod as if to say what’s up before noticing you’re phone is set up on your nightstand.

“film a tik tok with me,” you state cheerfully, not really giving him a choice.

but it’s okay but he’ll never pass up an opportunity like this.

“a challenge? dance?” he enquires.

“nope, all you have to do is stand there,” you leave him in the dark, but he goes along with it anyway. 

you press record, the audio of the song friends by anne-marie starts playing, and he’s confused.

you bite your bottom lip, looking into his eyes, and he’s even more lost.

running your fingers across his shoulders, his face goes to shock.

you step closer to him, chests almost touching.

the lyrics spell out f-r-i-e-n-d-s, and you lean forward, close enough to hear him swallow.

his eyes dart to your lips, where your own are getting closer.

you rest your hand on his jawline, and he’s not pulling back any time soon.

the lyrics ‘we’re just friends!” makes you turn away from him.

and his jaw drops.

“that was cruel,” he states, squinting at you.

“but it made a great video,” you joke, sweeping your phone up in your hand with a giggle.

without hesitating, mitch leans forward and wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you back to him sharply.

“you owe me.” 

[lvrhughes]

All of the Girls You Loved Before | M. Marner

pairing: Mitch Marner x f!reader

Word count: 1k

summary: You and Mitch had been together through your teen years, but it didn’t last. As they say if they live something let it go, if it’s meant to be it’ll come back, giving you a new found appreciation for all the girls he loved before.

Warnings: none! so much fluff

Requested: yes

“We’ve gone over this before, I am with you, I’m not going out with other girls while you're away! If I wanted someone else I wouldn’t be dating you!” 

Mitch was mad this time, letting the average teenage insecurities take over and assume the worst, creating another late night fight. Another lame fight over the phone. 

“Mitch, I’m sorry-”

“No I don’t want to hear it right now, I think we should take a break.”

“Oh.” was all you said at the time, thinking back on it maybe you should’ve said no, maybe then you’d have had a longer relationship, but as they say if you love something let it go, if it’s meant to be they’ll come back. 

Your laugh echoed the empty streets, Mitch pulling you towards the town. The two of you had snuck out, planning on sneaking into town, It wasn’t a far walk anyways. Yet somehow the walk took longer than normal, maybe from how many times you stopped because you were laughing too much or when you stopped to take pictures, either way you didn’t know. But it was fun, he was holding your hand the entire time, killin’ time with each other. Until you had to sneak back in.

“Y/n Y/l/n, where were you!” your mothers voice was loud and Mitch, who was outside making sure you didn’t fall while climbing back into your window, could hear the anger in her voice. You got grounded for two weeks. 

Throughout your teenage years you knew Mitch had other girlfriends, but you were his first, but that stupid phone call ruined that. It’s safe to say none of his other girlfriends lasted, because, even though you broke up, you two tried to stay friends and he always came back with a new reason as to why she left. 

“She said that this was just a dead-end street, we had no future together.”

“That’s a new one, I like the originality!” 

“Ha ha, very funny.” Mitch deadpanned, making you burst out with laughter, the sound making his blank expression soften into a smile. 

Your 21st birthday, the first time you had gotten into a bar, legally, and you were going to have a good time, that’s what you said. 

You’d found a cute guy, the same age, he had a little resemblance to Mitch, maybe that’s why you found him. It was going well, you were having a good time with him, dancing and drinking. Until you saw Mitch, the one person you’d be trying to get over. 

“Um- Excuse me.” you stuttered before running to the bathroom, breaking down in tears. Crying' in the bathroom for some dude whose name I cannot remember now. 

You cleaned the messed makeup off as best you could before heading back out, trying to find what's-his-name again. He definitely left. You never found him after returning from the bathroom. No, instead you ran directly into Mitch, too busy looking around to look where you were going, you basically fell on him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” you scrambled to get up before he could say anything. 

“Y/n?” fuck, the way he said your name made you melt, he always was your weakness. 

“Hi Mitch.” was all you could mutter, even then the words barely came out, they were only a whisper, yet he heard them. Basking in the way you said his name, he always loved the way you said it. 

So your 21st wasn’t as bad as that sounded because it ended in Mitch bringing you home, asking for your new number since you must’ve changed it from when you were 17 and still talking to him, and a promise to rebuild the friendship that had ended. And you did rebuild the friendship, surprisingly quick, too. 

Going through boxes of old things in Mitch’s house, asking for help when he planned to move out from his parents, you found an old letter. One of the only letters he kept, you’d need to ask him if he still wanted this in his house seeing how it was signed. His name in a heart on the front of the letter, not your writing. But it was okay, whoever this was from led him back to you. You had his love now. 

“I’m so glad for all the girls you loved before.”

You looked up at him, laying on his chest, his hand on your back while he also laid on the couch.

“What?” he looked down at you, confusion was evident on his features. 

“The way you call me baby, the way you treat me like a lady.” you paused for a minute.

“All the girls you loved before, they made you the one I fell for. All the dead-end streets lead you straight to me, now you're all I need. So I’m thankful for the girls you loved before.” 

Mitch could feel himself melting at the words, pulling you closer and tighter. 

“God, I love you.” he mumbled before leaning down to kiss you. 

When you did try to pull away for air, he kept you close, peppering you with kisses. 

“Mitch- st-stop” your words being broken by giggles. He did not stop however, he flipped the two of you so you were no under him, his chain dangling in front of you. 

“Your mother raised you so loyal and kind.” You whispered, seeing his face change with the compliments.

“Teenage love taught you there’s good in goodbye.” He was so caught off guard by your random words he just stayed still, listening for what you’d say next.

“Every woman you’ve ever known brought you here.”

He stayed patient waiting for your next words. 

“I want to teach you how forever feels.”

He wasted no time kissing you again, practically laying on you now, trying to be as close as possible to you. 

“I guess I’m a little thankful for those girls too.” he mumbled against your lips, quickly pressing his back to yours after mumbling that. You smiled into the kiss, waiting a minute before pulling away. 

“I’m so thankful for all the girls you loved before, but i love you more.”

[sunriseskog]

Steel Part 6- Auston Matthews

Part 1 || Part 2 ||Part 3 || Part 4||Part 5

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2283

Notes: major props to the anon that gave me the idea for where to go with this!! im so so unbelievably sorry that this was so late!! once stuff slows down with school uploads WILL be regular, im sorry :(((

The hotel was nearly 45 minutes away from the airport— which explained the complimentary shuttle— but after not being able to sleep for the entirety of the second leg of the flight, you were absolutely exhausted. Upon entering the van, you roughly shoved your backpack into the empty seat between yourself and Auston. As much as your heart was screaming for you to reach out for him, to feel him again, to touch him again after so long, you vowed to yourself that this would be the closest the two of you would come to each other for the rest of your lives, no matter what it took. You knew that you wouldn’t be strong enough to resist him forever, hell, you were barely strong enough to resist him right now, but that didn’t mean that anyone else had to catch wind of how hard of a time you were having. This was your battle to fight, and you’d save yourself and your heart this time if it was the last thing you did. Before anything could be said, you pulled your headphones out of the side of your bag and pushed them into your ears as you felt the driver slam the trunk closed, having finished loading up your bags. Claire shot you a sad smile through the rearview mirror, shooting you a subtle thumbs up at the sight of your headphones, glad that you were taking preemptive measures to protect yourself from whatever other bullshit the group surrounding you could potentially hit you with. She had seen how hurt you were by Steph’s manipulative tactics, and after that betrayal, coupled with the resurfacing trauma surrounding Auston and everything that had been going on at home before you had left for vacation, neither of you were sure how much more you could take.

The gentle rocking of the car coupled with the music flowing through your earbuds had never failed to lull you to sleep, and this time was no exception. This time, however, instead of waking to the same calming sensations, you were jostled by the rough swerving of the car, which sent you plummeting towards the floor of the van.

Seeing you shut yourself off from him so abruptly had hurt. Seeing the woman that he had been so hopelessly in love with disappear completely had destroyed him, but to see you have to put up physical barriers just to protect yourself from him had somehow intensified that all-consuming and never-ending hatred he had for himself. The hatred he had for what he had done to you. It had punctured him in a part of his heart that he wasn’t even aware was capable of breaking more than it had. He had been sure that he had nothing left to give. No more pain to feel, no more damage to endure… but he had also thought that before he had stepped on the plane. The plane ride had been torturous, and the drive showed no signs of being any different He was still unable to tear his eyes off of the side of your face, desperate to take in as much as you would allow. The image of your face had long since been burned into the back of his brain, every memory clutched desperately in the throws of his consciousness, each moment replaying over and over again every waking moment of every day since you had left, but for some reason he was still incapable of stopping himself from trying desolately to commit every new discrepancy in your appearance to his memory. He noticed the minuscule new scar above your left brow bone and the prominence of your cheekbones. The bags under your eyes were accentuated by how much your face had thinned. She wasn’t eating again, he thought. This was his fault. He felt the voice return to his head before he heard it, telling him how badly he had fucked up, how this was all his fault, how he had done this to you, how he had ruined his own life…how he had ruined you. Auston’s heart was somehow even heavier than it had been after the bathroom incident on the plane. It was pressing so intensely against the back of his lungs that he felt like it was going to burst through his skin any moment now. His throat was thick with guilt and his lungs were clogged with the tears that he was forcing himself to hold back. He saw your eyes begin to slip shut less than ten minutes into the drive, subtly using his elbow to push your bag up against your side in an attempt to prevent you from leaving uncomfortably against the window like he knew you had a habit of doing. His efforts seemed to have more of an effect than he intended, as you slumped over and leaned your head against the top of your bag, mere inches from where his shoulder was pressed against the other side of it. His fingers twitched and he felt an overwhelming physical pull to reach out and touch you, to trace his finger over your cheek, to brush away the hair that had fallen across your face, to prove to himself that you were really in front of him. His internal battle lasted longer than he had realized, looking up as the van began to approach the resort. Upon passing the gates, the van slammed harshly on its brakes, honking at the presumably inebriated residents that had swerved in front of the vehicle. Auston saw you move out of the corner of his eye, instinctively throwing his arm out in front of you, not noticing the fact that his phone had been flung across the floor from the movement. Your eyes shot open as your body fell forward, your hand unconsciously wrapping around the forearm covering your torso to stabilize yourself. In that moment, it felt like every time you had felt his touch, and every moment you had gone without it, hit you full force. Your eyes widened and you were still struggling to breathe as the van pulled under the awning of the entrance to the resort. As desperate as he was to prolong the contact for as long as possible, he knew that that wasn’t what you wanted. He ripped his arm from your grip once he was sure you were okay, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he roughly grabbed his suitcase from the floor and practically threw himself out of the van, not bothering to lean the seat up for Mitch or Steph. You were still in shock from the overwhelming sensation of having his arm around you again, even though it had only been for a few moments. You slowly climbed out of the car, your hands shaking slightly as you tried desperately to recover from the events that had transpired moments before.

As you moved to close the door, you caught sight of Auston’s phone, you assumed it had gone flying after he had caught you but when you looked up to return it to him you noticed that the entire group had disappeared. With how often you had forced yourself not to think about Auston, you had never taken into consideration how he may have been affected by everything that went down. You had assumed that he was thoroughly enjoying his prime years as the NHL's most eligible bachelor, but what you had seen so far on the trip seemed to disprove that entirely. Your attention was diverted by the driver insistently placing the handle of your suitcase into your hand as Claire began to lead you to the reception desk to retrieve your room keys.

It had been almost half an hour before you were able to lie down in bed, retrieving the phone from where you had shoved it into your pocket in your haste to check in. You took a deep breath, hoping to prepare yourself for whatever awaited you once you looked at the phone. You had deleted all of the Leafs’ numbers the moment you left Toronto, so it wasn’t exactly an option to call Mitch or Steph on your phone to inform them of the mishap. You were positive that it was an invasion of his privacy, which only strengthened your hesitation, but it honestly hadn’t been that long since you assumed that there was no need for privacy between the two of you. Besides, you didn’t care anymore. There was nothing that you would see on there that would actually change anything. You and Auston were over. And that wasn’t going to change.

After giving yourself a will-strengthening pep talk, you picked the phone up, the screen illuminating your face at the motion. The first thing that caught your eye was that you were still his background, but that was only the first of many blasts from the past that bombarded you the moment you caught sight of the screen. It was the same picture that had been his background since about a month into your official relationship, a candid picture of your side profile that he had snapped a few moments after you had woken up next to him for the first time. You wondered if the girl he had been seeing was as heartbroken as you were when you saw that photo.

Unable to look at the manifestation of the happiness you and Auston had had together, your eyes moved to the notification at the top of his screen. It looked to be a reminder of sorts, but for the life of you, you couldn’t determine what it was of. The text read “365 days, fuck-up.” Who is he calling a fuck-up? You thought. Is he talking to himself? You felt your eyebrows furrow in confusion as well as frustration at the fact that he would think it was okay to talk to himself that way. You knew how hard he was on himself, and how much weight those words carried, and you knew that there was no way that had improved since you had left. You shook your head, removing yourself from the dangerous path your mind had begun to lead you down. You placed your thumb on the home button, biting your lip as the passcode screen appeared. You were relieved to no longer be assaulted by the memories that accompanied that photo, but now you were at an entirely different obstacle: figuring out his password. His birthday was unsuccessful, as was Ema’s and the day he was drafted to Toronto and your own birthday. You were beginning to lose hope, resigned to just turn it in to the concierge desk and hope for the best, before you remembered the reminder that had occupied his lock screen. 365 days ago, that would be— holy shit.

Shades of black began to enter the corners of your vision before you could fully process what was happening. One year ago. You… you had left Toronto one year ago. It was exactly one year ago. And…and Auston had remembered— no— reminded himself of that day, hurt himself because of that day. You swiped down from the top of the screen, your panic only intensifying as you scrolled through all of the notifications, the screen flooding 364, 363, 362… it seemed to go on forever. Your breathing became more and more rapid and you lost sight of your original intention as you thought about how awful it must have been for him. Living in that house alone, you leaving so suddenly and so completely, him tearing himself apart every time he looked at his phone.

You couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. The guilt started forcing its way up your throat as your throat began to burn and you began to choke at the bile sitting at the base of your esophagus. You still weren’t seeing clearly, and the weight on your chest was preventing you from getting the air that you needed to push off the panic that was beginning to consume you.

The frantic vibrating of the phone in question was able to push you to the edge of consciousness, temporarily forcing away the intense panic attack that you knew you were going to have to face eventually. The name Mitch Marner flashed across the top of the screen, a goofy picture that you recognized had been taken in your— Auston’s living room covering the seemingly unending countdown that had come to consume your mind.

You took advantage of the lapse in your brain, inhaling deeply to force yourself to calm down enough to actually answer the phone call. Once you had steeled yourself, pushing the remnants of your panic attack back below the surface, you hit Accept and moved the phone up to your ear, preparing yourself for the painful awkward interaction you were about to have to have with Mitch.

“Hello?” The voice on the other side of the line questioned. You were plunged immediately back into the depths of the panic attack that you thought you had freed yourself from moments ago. It wasn’t Mitch. Any memories that had been brought back by seeing him, or being near him, or touching him, or discovering what you had seen on his phone were intensified immediately. The voice that had haunted your worst nightmares and your most longing daydreams for the past year seemed to assault all of your senses. He had only said one word, but you could practically feel yourself being swaddled by the gravel in his voice and the signature crack in his voice. It wasn’t Mitch. It was him. It was Auston.

Notes: this is very bad and im aware of that but im too exahsuted to try to fix it so im sorry lmao

[beautifulfiore-blog]

this makes my heart melt

[bqstqnbruin]

Mystery Man

Apparently I had a habit of writing things over the summer, finishing them, and then forgetting about them, because this is something I had in my Google Drive that was last edited in August so that’s fun (I also low key like having gifs with my stuff now so that might become a regular thing).

But this could go one of two ways: either it ends where it does and I would be fine with that, or I write more because I have a little bit more but it sucks and turn this into something with multi-parts, so let me know what you want! ______________

“If you need me, I’ll be on the couch, underneath a mountain of blankets for the foreseeable future,” you tell your roommate, walking to the living room to drown yourself in a sea of softness.

“You’re really taking this do-nothing weekend thing to heart, aren’tcha?” she asked you, getting up from the kitchen table to follow you

“Extreme self-care, bitch.” “Ok. No. Not tonight. You can do that shit tomorrow.” she tells you, dragging you by the arm and walking to your room. “You have not been out in months, and you cannot sit there and complain about how you don’t have a boyfriend and want one when all you do is watch reruns of the Bachelorette and swipe on guys on Tinder that you don’t talk to.”  “I know that, but hey!” you said, doing your mediocre John Mulaney impression.

“Let’s go do something tonight! Then tomorrow we can come home to not having lives and binge TV shows and eat food all day together,” she suggests, shoving you into your room. She stands at your closet, throwing outfits at you. “There’s that bar that we’ve been talking about going to someday, let’s make someday today.” Before you could say no, she had your favorite romper out for you, and she decided that she was going to take one of your shirts and pair it with the jeans that made her butt look great. “Do your makeup, I’ll be back in ten.” Even though you had no desire to go, you started doing your makeup, knowing she was right. What was the harm of flirting with a few guys and getting them to buy you drinks? It’s not like you had to see them again if you didn’t want to. Plus, you had spent almost every weekend lately just sitting in your apartment instead of going out and meeting people. You complained about knowing no one but your roommate, and all you really wanted was some nice male attention. What could go wrong?

 ---

“Ugh, shit!” you say as someone spills their drink all over you. “No this is my favorite outfit!” You meet eyes with the stranger who just spilled something all over you. Wow. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a more beautiful man in your life. Granted, you were slightly drunk, so at the moment, you found everyone more attractive now than you would find them while sober. He had beautiful blue eyes, short brown hair, was built like a Greek God. Again, you were drunk, so were you really seeing this guy as he actually was? 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, grabbing napkins for you to dry yourself off, “Let me get you a new one. What was it?” 

“Oh no, it’s fine, that was my last drink of the night. If anything, I’ll get water.” If you were one thing when drunk, it was hydrated.

He leaves for a second as you start to dry yourself off. Your roommate comes over to you, wide-eyed with two drinks in hand, “He’s gorgeous, oh my god. I wouldn’t be mad if he came home tonight.” she says, starting to spill her drink on the floor.

“Jesus!” you say, trying to dodge it, “He just spilled my drink on me, I don’t need you spilling yours on me, too.”

“Why are you standing over here when he’s over there giving you those ‘longing eyes’ we read about in those crappy romance novels. Go to him!” She says, spinning you around, spilling her drinks on your shoulders. At this point, you were covered in something sticky, what was a little more? That’s what laundry was for, anyway. 

You go over to the beautiful mystery man to find him already talking to another girl. If you were sober, this wouldn’t bother you, but it sure does when you’re drunk. You turn to the nearest alone guy you can find, “Buy me a drink?” The confused and wide-eyed drunk man does what you ask him too. You turn around to see mystery man looking right at me, ignoring whatever it is the girl is saying. You can’t help but be petty and wave at him, smirking as you turn to the guy handing you another beer. You normally aren’t like this, but something about that guy made you want to get his attention. 

Something is different about him.

“So, uh, do I at least get to know your name if I bought you a drink?” the guy slurs out.. You definitely weren’t really trying to have a conversation with him, but at least you knew the mystery guy couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 

Your roommate runs back up to you, pulling you away from the drink guy, “C’mon, that’s not the right guy!” The way you’re facing her, Mystery Man is in your sightline. The girl is practically begging for his attention and he’s giving her none of it. You’re pretty sure that if you approached him, he would just blow her off.

But is that the kind of person you are? Sober? No. Drunk? Maybe. 

“Give me a minute,” you say, walking over to him. 

As soon as he sees you approaching, he leaves the other girl. She didn’t even seem to care, she just turned to the next guy and started talking to him.

“Wow, looks like you’re popular here, aren’t you?” Mystery Man says, “I thought you were only going to have water.” 

“I was planning on it, but you were also planning on getting me a drink anyway, weren’t you?” 

“Guilty.” He says, shrugging, running his free hand through his hair. 

“If you’re not going to get me a drink can I at least get your name?” You ask him.

“Mitch.”

You spend the rest of the night with him, dancing and drinking. He even walked you and your roommate home. Something was special about this boy, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

“Is he coming in with us? Because if you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” your roommate says, within earshot and definitely loud enough for him to hear it.

“Uh, if you would like me to come in, I will,” he says. He and you were both sober by the time you got back to your place. Your roommate, however, was going to be majorly hungover in the morning. 

“Sure, but don’t count on seeing my room just yet if that’s what you’re expecting,” you tell him, opening your door into your living room. You’ll make out with someone, but you aren’t going to sleep with someone when you don’t know them. Not that you go out enough to do that; most of your nights involve you underneath the mountain of blankets you were planning on burying yourself under when the night started. 

The rest of the night was spent with you and Mitch telling each other about yourselves. Around four in the morning, you interrupt him, “Wait, I know why I know you.”

His eyes widen like he was worried about you finding out who you are. “What do you mean?” “This entire night, besides me thinking how attractive you are if I’m being honest, I was trying to figure out why you looked familiar. Aren’t you an athlete or something? You play, what, baseball?” You know it’s not basketball, you are a die-hard Raptors fan and know the roster and other teams better than you know your family. 

“Uh, no. I play hockey. I play for the Maple Leafs? I’m Mitch Marner?”

“Yeah, see, I like hockey, but I don’t understand any of it. Maybe that’s why you look familiar, my brothers played hockey and they love the Boston Bruins.” 

“Ah, fuck, you’re a Boston fan?” he looks genuinely worried. 

“I don’t really care. I guess for hockey I might be because of the family, but basketball and baseball I’m a Toronto fan,” you admit. You didn’t really care about anything but basketball. Hockey honestly meant nothing to you.

But you couldn’t tell him that. If he plays for the Maple Leafs, then obviously hockey is his life. And he’s attractive and sweet. You can’t let a guy like this get away that easy.