#mb12

You’re in that drowsy state between waking and sleep. Aware enough to register Matt arriving home and coming through the bedroom door, but too sleepy to manage more than a quiet hum that vaguely resembles ‘hi’ as a greeting.

What feels like only a second later, cold hands slide under the covers and settle on your stomach. 

You startle, the icy touch sending a literal jolt through your body. “Jesus—Matt.”

He huffs a quiet laugh into your shoulder, already settling in behind you. “Relax. You’re warm.” A soft kiss lands on your neck. “Hi,” he whispers. 

“That’s not an invitation,” you reply, forgoing a proper greeting. 

“Can’t help myself,” Matt teases, shifting closer. “You’re just too warm.” His hands stay put on your middle, unapologetic.

“You could also try keeping all your limbs under the covers for once,” you retort, nudging his leg lightly with your foot through the covers. 

He snorts. “No,” he says without missing a beat. “No need. I’ve got my human heater right here.” 

Just as one of his hands slowly creeps higher up your side, he wedges an equally ice-cold foot— the one that’s actually under the covers— beneath your legs.

You swat at him. “Matt!”

“Shhh,” he shushes you through soft chuckles. He hooks his exposed leg over your blanketed lower half, pinning you gently in place. “I’m comfortable like this.”

You squirm slightly in his hold. “Your hands are actually ice. Are you kidding me?” 

Matt hums, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin like skate blades on ice. “I know. It’s, like, -20 out right now. It’s brutal.”

“I would have believed you without you shoving your icicle fingers under my shirt,” you chastise, though you fail to keep the faint trace of amusement out of your tone.

“Maybe this is my way of making sure you’re awake enough to cuddle me,” Matt jests. 

“Well I’m certainly awake.”

A pleased little sound escapes your boyfriend as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his touch still freezing your ribcage. 

You really are wide awake now. It’s one of those situations where you slept just enough that being woken up for even a few minutes has erased any and all feelings of drowsiness. 

Once you accept that as your reality, it doesn’t take long for your mind to drift, a low, familiar awareness curling in your stomach. An awareness of his hands still on you, of his mouth ghosting over your skin every time he shifts, lips brushing just enough to be distracting. 

Your fingers find Matt’s hand, lingering there as a quiet warmth pools between your legs.

“I mean, if I’m awake now… you could at least make it worth my while,” you murmur. 

Matt huffs a laugh, smirk evident in his tone when he replies, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, your fingers gently circling his. “I can think of another way to warm your hands up. Put them to… better use.”

He chuckles low in his throat, fingers twitching against your stomach. “Is that so?”

You bite your lip, guiding his hand to your waistband. “Mhm. Could start here,” you murmur, his fingertips now hovering over your clothed core.

“Yeah?” he says, low, almost amused. “That what you want?”

You shift your hips into his hand instead of replying and he laughs. “Okay. Message received.”

His fingers dip beneath your sleep shorts and you gasp; the contrast between his cold touch and your own warmth waking every nerve, excitement buzzing beneath your skin.

Matt just hums, tracing over your folds, spreading them slightly and pressing softly against the wetness between them. “Already wet,” he observes, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite the slow, delicate way he’s touching you. 

You shiver as he explores, his middle finger dragging along your slit, gathering your slick and then teasing your hole. His thumb drifts idly, moving in slow, tentative passes over your clit, barely applying any pressure yet. You let out a soft sound, your hips tilting into his touch, eager for more.

Matt takes that as an invitation. He finally plunges a finger inside you and groans softly, like the sound was pulled out of him before he could stop it. “You’re right,” he tells you. “This is better.”

You sigh, tension leaking out of you as he begins to pump the digit inside you. Despite barely stretching you, the intrusion sends a tingle up your spine. Your boyfriend’s hands are very talented, which is evidenced by the way he’s already teasing your most sensitive spot, applying only enough pressure to make you grind into his palm. 

A satisfied hum sounds from him as he backs off slightly, continuing to feel you out. Matt never rushes your pleasure, always taking his time to let it build properly, savouring any opportunity to make you feel good. 

He returns his thumb to your clit, circling the bud with a little more intent now. His lips brush along your shoulder as warm waves of pleasure ripple through you. “You feel so good,” he breathes, pressing his finger deeper, each stroke carefully measured. “Bet you taste good, too.”

A sigh slips past your lips as your entrance flutters around him, an involuntary reaction to his words that brings a smile to his lips. “Mmm, yeah. Maybe I’ll have to get my mouth on you in the morning, hm?”

He slips a second finger inside you before you can reply, flexing them in tandem, finally offering you a little stretch. Your lashes flutter shut as the pads of his fingertips drag deliciously against your velvety walls. 

Matt’s attentive to your reactions, tracking every twitch of your hips, the small tremors in your thighs, the quiet gasps that escape you, and responding in kind. Every touch is designed to unravel you. 

He shifts slightly, adjusting his angle when you start to squirm. His fingers curl more confidently, sliding along your sensitive front wall, pressing upward just enough to make you clench around him again. 

“Matt,” you gasp, hips rolling to follow his touch.

“Mm, there it is,” he rasps. “Feel good?”

You nod, hips still chasing the friction.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he praises, voice roughening slightly.

He keeps his fingers moving in sync with your body, curling and scissoring, patiently letting your release build. His free hand shifts to palm one of your tits, thumb flicking over your hardened peak making you keen. 

Your fingers curl into the sheets. “More,” you instruct in a whisper. “Another finger.”

You feel Matt’s breath against your neck when he laughs. “Bossy,” he murmurs, dropping a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “My greedy girl. Missed you.”

You reply with a delicate moan as he obliges, the stretch from the extra digit exactly what you needed. Your hand finds his wrist and you tilt your hips, letting him push in a little deeper. Matt follows without hesitation, his touch molding to your body perfectly, matching the natural rhythm of your hips to guide you through the tension building in your core.

Your breaths come faster as his fingers continue their ministrations, pressing against the sensitive spot deep inside you that makes your breath hitch. He doesn’t let up when you arch against his hold. Instead, he doubles down, kneading your breast as his thumb circles your clit with just a little more pressure. 

Your thighs tremble, hips moving more frantically as your body spirals toward release. Matt stays patient, letting every last bit of pleasure wash over you until you’re practically bursting at the seams trying to contain it. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs between sloppy kisses to your neck. “Let go f’me.”

As if on command, your body pulls taut, shockwaves gripping your body as your orgasm tears through you. Matt keeps his fingers moving inside of you, gradually easing up until the last bit of the tension leaves your body and you melt back into him. He holds you close as your high finally crests, his palm now warm against your ribcage as he murmurs softly in your ear, telling you how good you were, how pretty you sounded when you came. 

When he finally withdraws his fingers from your warmth, he sucks them into his mouth, humming softly at the taste. 

“I like your ideas,” he murmurs as he wipes the slick digits on the sheets a moment later. “Big fan.”

You laugh lightly as he wraps you in his embrace once more. “I love you. Glad you’re home.” 

“Love you,” he echoes, punctuating the words with a kiss to your cheek. “Get some sleep, baby.”

“You don’t want me to..?” you trail off.

You’re pretty confident you felt him half-hard behind you earlier, sometime while his fingers were working their magic, though you don’t feel him now.

Matt breathes a quiet laugh into your hair, his voice low and rough in your ear. “Greedy and generous,” he compliments. “No, baby, that’s okay. I’m tired, and I think I’ve already stolen enough of your sleep for tonight.”

You follow behind Quinn as he leads you to a local Minnesota restaurant, the restaurant where you’re going to meet Quinn’s new team. Ever since Quinn got traded he’s been begging you to join him in Minnesota and officially meet the new team, but you’ve been too busy to do so because of work. As you approach the restaurant you start to have a nervous feeling in your gut, a feeling you usually get when you’re about to meet a boat load of new people. Quinn opens the door for you, standing to the side to let you through like a perfect gentleman. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pant leg as you nod at Quinn in thanks. He walks behind you, one hand placed on the bottom of your back, as he leads you towards the team. “Don’t be nervous, okay? They’ll love you.” Quinn’s words are an attempt to calm you but they fall short of reaching their goal.

The team is talking loudly and taking up a whole corner of the restaurant, their jeers get even louder when they notice you and Quinn approaching. “Huggy!” They cheer. Quinn smiles sheepishly at them before urging you forward with a light push of the hand. “Guys, this is Y/N, my friend I was telling you about. Remember?” A bunch of the Wild get up and introduce themselves, throwing out a bunch of nicknames that you fail to remember. Quinn places his hand on your back again and leads you to the only two seats at the table that are unoccupied. Quinn sits beside Brock while you sit beside a man you don’t quite recognize, his light brown hair and warm smile do make you more nervous though.

“I’m Matt.” He introduces, “Matt Boldy.” He looks at you with a gentle smile, trying to calm you down as if he can sense your nerves. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Quinn’s friend.” You smile and look at Matt, like really look at him, you notice his light brown hair and his plump lips. He has soft eyes, something that is unusual in today’s world. You’re so use to meeting guys with a hard look in their eye, trying to appear mysterious and all ‘alpha male’ like, so Matt’s eyes are a great change of pace. “Tell me about yourself. I want to know all about the girl that Hughesy can’t shut up about.” You blush at his words and look back down at your plate. “Oh there’s not much to tell. I met Quinn in Vancouver while I was at University.” Matt looks at you with intent, listening carefully, soaking in every word you’re saying. “What did you major in?”

“Marketing.” You answer.

The rest of the evening passes by in a blur. You and Matt were in your own little bubble, talking about anything and everything. The conversation between the two of you came so easily that it scares you to be honest, but in the best way possible. The later the night gets, the more people leave, eager to get home to their own families. Quinn nudges you with his elbow, asking you “Are you ready to go?” You pause and tear your eyes away from Matt, glancing at Quinn with a confused look. “It’s that late already? Damn.” You and Quinn stand and put on your coats, readying yourselves for the cold, Minnesota air. Matt stands as well, you all bid goodbye to the rest of the guys and head to the door, stopping once you get outside.

“Hey I’m gonna go get the car and pull it around, alright?” You nod at Quinn, silently thanking him for giving you a couple of lone minutes with Matt. “How long will you be in Minne?” You give Matt a small smile as you give your answer. “2 more days. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow but I’ll be at tomorrow’s home game.” Matt gives you a wide smile, a teasing tone in his voice as he asks “You’ll be wearing a Boldy jersey, right?” You laugh, loud and carefree, “Hmm I don’t know if Q would like that. Besides I don’t have a Boldy jersey but if I did then yeah, I think I would wear it.” Matt chuckles and looks to the ground, his cheeks now red because of your blatant flirting. Before Matt can say anything else Quinn rolls up in his BMW, the look on his face easily tells you that he is tired and ready to go home.