#auston matthews one shot

[datsyuks]

"If You Want Anything All You Have To Do Is Ask"

(Hi everyone. I'm new around these parts. Please enjoy. Leave a like or reblog. If the formatting is weird please let know. i used dreaded notepad and it seems like it was more of a curse than a blessing. i should have more coming soon.)

Warnings: smut toward the end

"I'm going inside. I need a refill," you wave your empty can in the air, "you want anything?" you yell to your friend who was ankle deep in ocean water. "I'm good!" She yells back. You glance down the beach to see if your brother, Mitch, and his friend, Auston, would want a refill but they are down the beach chatting it up with two blondes. "Their loss," you mumble to yourself and hike it up the sand.

The cool air feels good on your skin as you open the freezer to get a popsicle. The sweet treat cooling you down even more. You walk upstairs to your shared bedroom. Clothes litter the ground as you make your way to your phone on the nightstand. You start to edit some pictures to post to Instagram when two hands grab at your waist and tugging your body backwards into something hard.

"Boo," he whispers into your ear, his stubble rubbing lightly on your jaw gives him away. Still, it makes you jump, enough for the phone to slip from your hands and onto the bed. "Auston!" you shout and turn around to push against his chest. He laughs as one hand leaves your waist and envelopes it over your hand on his chest, locking it in place. Warmth radiated from his chest. "How'd you know it was me?"

Of course you knew it was him. It became your first instinct now. Years and years of him coming around allowed you to memorize, every part of him. The way his hand ghosted the small of your back as he past behind you. The way he was somehow always there to reach the cup out of the highest shelf of the kitchen cabinet for you before you could even ask. How fast he volunteered himself to teach you how to play tennis, even after Mitch's relentless teasing. 'She's got potential.' He'd say giving you a smile and a wink.

"No, hold the racket like this," walking behind you, he wraps his arms around yours and held your hands over the tennis racket. His hands enveloped around yours so tightly you could only see bits of your neon colored nail polish. "That way when you swing, you have more control." "Uh huh, " you say suddenly very aware of his closeness. You were caged between his arms and you couldn't help yourself from staring at them. They glisened with sweat and sunscreen. Your eyes trail down to the veins popping out on his forearm from squeezing your hands against the racket.

"Why are you so sift?" He asks and wiggles your arms oblivious to you not listening to him at all. "Sorry, I-" you turn your head to look up at him. You are suddenly aware he is not wearing a shirt, your eyes drag up his chest, taking a pause at the small tattoo on his collarbone. Is that new? you think and look up to his face. He's smirking down at you. "Just loosen up."

He let's go of your hands and walks back to the bench. You gather your thoughts, "get it together, get it together." you chant in a whisper. You swing your arms around, do some stretches, and repeat your chant trying to get the feeling of him off you. "Get it together," you look back at Auston on the bench, he's squirting some water into his mouth before squirting some into his hair. "get it," he runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “together." your breathless now.

"Want some?" he offers the bottle toward you. You hold out your hands so he can throw the bottle. But he walks over to you, until he’s face to face, “open up.” He gestures to your mouth. His eyes never leave yours as he squirts some water into his mouth. Your eyes widen at his actions yet you still open your mouth, tilting your head up. Lifting the bottle to your mouth, he squirts some in before spraying it all over your face.

"Auston!" you snap out of your trance and charge at him, trying to grab for the bottle but he holds it out of your reach. "That," jump, "was", jump, "not nice!" With your hands on his shoulders, trying to use him as leverage you jump one last time but it's no use. He laughs even harder at your attempts.

"Ugh!" you stomp toward the bench, hastly grabbing a towel out of your bag. Sitting on the bench, you hear him next to you as he sets down the bottle and picks up his racket. "What? You thought I would squirt the water in my mouth into yours?" he asks, playfully. You choke your water down, "what? No." He raises his eyebrows, “you sure?" he smiles, unconvinced. God, you could melt, not trusting your voice you nod. He drops his smile and takes a few steps toward you. “Ok, if you want anything all you have to do is ask, ya know." Is this a dream? Does he even know what he's saying? He must know. He has to know how he affects you. He-' His body is right in front of you, he leans down so he's eye level.

His mouth opens as if he's going to say something, but nothing comes out. You noticably gulp and nervously shift your hands on your water bottle. "Now," he tries again. His eyes glance down to your mouth then back to your eyes. Your body tenses up when you feel his fingertips graze your bare knee. They leave a trail of fire until he slips them under the hem of your tennis skirt. Water droplets fall from his hair and onto your exposed leg. His eyes glance down again, his tounge wets his lips, and his breathing becomes slightly harder. Your still frozen in place when his eyes snap back up to yours.

"Let's play," he grabs the ball you put in your shorts pocket and turns around towards the other end of the court. You suck in a breath, quickly stand to your feet, and brush off the invisible dirt off your skirt. "Yeah, let's play."

You're brought back to reality when he squeezes your hand. "You okay?" His thumb brushes circles onto the back of your hand. Your eyes instincivitly go to his mouth then back to his eyes. You nod.

"Whatcha eating there?" nodding at your hand. Your eyes glance toward your other hand, now being covered by the melting treat. "A popsicle," your voice finally comes out in a whisper. This might be the only chance to spark something, anything, before he goes back to Toronto. Before he's gone away for months. Before, god forbid, he brings another girl to the lakehouse. Before he moves on and leaves you behind and you're stuck in a spirl of what could've happend.

"Do you want to try it?" you ask, almost as quietly as before. His eyes search yours to see if you're joking. In all his years of knowing you, he was always the one teasing.

You bring the treat in front of his mouth, "go ahead. I want you to have a bite." His hand leaves your hip and wraps over yours on the stick. His tongue licks a long strip up the popsicle. His plump lips wrap around the top breaking off a piece. He goes in for another lick going slower this time, teasing you. His lips are covered in the blue liquid. He goes in for another lick when you pull the stick from him and into your mouth. You close your eyes and let out a moan as you taste him and the blue raspberry.

Opening you eyes, you hold you the last piece toward him, "you want some more?" Eager, he leans in but you're quicker, pulling the rest of the popsicle in your mouth, "come and get it."

Dropping your hands and grabbing your hips slamming your body into his. His mouth in on yours, licking his way in. His hand glides up your back until the reach your neck holding you in place. He tastes like the popsicle and warm bud light.

Tossing the popsicle stick to the ground, your hands trail down to the waistband of his bathinsuit. He pulls away, out of breath. "get on the bed." He presses a small, gentle kiss to your lips before letting go. "sit onthe edge."

He spreads your legs apart and unties the little bows on sides of your bathing suit bottoms. The cold air makes you shiver and snaps you out of your fantasy. Does he really want to do this? What's going to happen after? How do you go back to being civil, especially if he sucks? “Auston," you say out of breath, "you don't have to do this. We can just-" You couldn't finish and let out a whimper as he lightly bites the inside of your thigh. "No talking." He flattens his togune against you and licks up.

A moan escapes your lips and your fingers tangle in his hair. “Oh my god, yes." He wraps his arms tighter around your legs as he continues lapping you up. He licks up and down slowly, dragging his tongue over every inch, before dipping inside to tease your clit. He goes around tugging, biting, licking getting lost in the way you taste. "Do you want me to keep going?" He swirls his tongue around your hole.

"Yes," you groan out, before he dives right in, until you are shaking aginst him, "keep going." Two of his fingers replace his tongue and you arch into his mouth. “That's right baby, just tell me what you want." His fingers speed up and you whimper, "i'm close." He pulls out his fingers before slamming them back in curling up just to find the right spot.

"That's it baby," he leans up and takes your nipple in his mouth. Another moan leaves you lips as your orgasm washes over you. Auston slows his fingers down before sliding them out and pops them into his mouth.

Trying to catch you breath, he kisses along your jaw before connecting your lips. "I'll repay you later?" "Don’t worry about it. You asked so nicely. I just had to give you what you want.”One more kiss and he stands back up. Stretching his arms. “We should get going before anyone else comes in." The reality sets in and your body becomes heavy. You snap out of it and shake your head, "Hey Aus-," but you couldn't even get his name out before you heard the back door slam shut.

[3416]

No Panic. No Quit. | The Leaf: Blueprint Moment | 01.19.25

[jackhues]

karma - auston matthews

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

likes are good, reblogs are better!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

join my main taglist!

[girljeremystrong]

"it goes back to the point that when it's all said and done Marner, Matthews and Nylander will be #1, #2 and #3 in every single offensive category in the history of the Toronto Maple Leafs."

TOR@NYI | 11.01.23

[equallyshaw]

forever a leaf feat, OC Dubas + 23-24 leafs.

- possibly going to be adding a actual blurb, but not sure yet!

- also she’s like 20, since kyle (in this au) had Kylie when he was 17 with his then girlfriend.

—

@kyliedubas: see you on the flippity flip toronto.

Tags: Auston matthews, Mitch marner, Alex nylander, morgan rielly, kyledubas, Matthew knies

34.9k likes, 344 + limited comments.

•

@kyliedubas: Too many people to tag !!!

@tessavirtue: I’m gonna miss u girlie🥹🤍

↳ @kyliedubas: I’m crying even harder now 😭

↳ @morganrielly: gonna miss you in the 6 :(

↳ @kyliedubas: me too mo, me too 🫶🏻

@austonmatthews34: gonna miss king Kylie

↳kyliedubas: king Kylie forever 👑

@kyledubas: so many incredible memories with my kyles

↳ @kyliedubas: love you pops!

@stephlachance: come visit soon !!

↳ @kyliedubas: oh you already know :)

@mirandascott: 💙💙

↳ @kyliedubas: love you mama

@fanone: aweeee

@fantwo: you literally grew up here :/

↳ @kyliedubas: i know🫶🏻

@williamnylander: have nobody to compete with for best fashion

↳ @kyliedubas: I know !!!! Willy styles and king kyles style will be missed :’(

↳ @austonmatthews: what about me ?

↳ @kyliedubas: nahhh you have no hope

@mitchmarner: gonna miss you twinnie!!! But can’t wait to see what’s next

↳ @kyliedubas: 🤍

—

@kyliedubas: got the band back together🫶🏻

Tag: Kyledubas and mirandascott

49.3k likes, 1.3k comments.

•

@austonmatthews34: by far the best dubas

@williamnylander: smarty pants with a bachelors in 2 years 😎😎

@fanone: woah I never knew he was with somebody else before his wife

↳ @kyliedubas: yep!! They decided they were better as friends :)

@mitchmarner: Toronto job ? I know a guy who’s looking for some rent income 😌

↳ @kyliedubas: @stephlachance come get ur dude — stranger danger

↳ @stephlachance: lolol we always have a room open

↳ @kyliedubas: mom and dad 🥹

↳ @tessavirtue: oh

↳ @kyliedubas: omg !!! Grandma and grandpa

↳ @mitchmarner: @morganrielly 😭😭

@kyledubas: so proud of you kiddo, can’t wait to see what you do🫶🏻

↳ @kyliedubas: Thankyou for all the support 🤍

↳ @mirandscott: you have no idea how proud we are!

@jtavares: congrats kiddo!!

↳ @kyliedubas: Thankyou jt and family for the wonderful flower arrangement and chocolate

↳ @matthewknies: the literal way to her heart

↳ @kyliedubas: don’t you know it

@matthewknies: I feel dumb

↳ @bunting58: have you considered that you might be ?

↳ kyliedubas: omg let’s take it the gc ladies !

||

Hope you all enjoyed :)

Please like a reblog if you did

[chickensaladquinn]

Chicken Salad Quinn pt 9 - Day with Mommy

Other Parts: Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8

an: I've been in a been of a slump coming out with the next few parts, so here's a random little spinoff about Quinn hanging out with mommy. We'll be getting back to the Y/n storyline shortly <3

It was finally the off season, and Quinn could not be more excited to be spending his time back at the Hughes' lake house. His days were full of golfing, going out on the boat, hanging out with all of his hockey friends, but most importantly, he got to eat fresh chicken salad directly from mommy every single day.

Mommy always rolled her eyes at her sons love for chicken salad, but both she and Quinn knew that it was all a ruse. She secretly cherished her mommas boy always coming to her for her famous chicken salad. As a mom with three boys who were all grown up, it was rare to feel needed. But Quinn always came around to make mommy feel better.

One night, Quinn couldn't sleep, so he made his way down to the kitchen to grab a little late night snack (chicken salad, of course). As he tip-toed into the kitchen, he was shocked to see that it was already occupied. Mommy was still up.

"Hey there Quinny, coming to get some chicken salad?" she inquired. Quinn nodded blushing lightly. Mommy gave him a smile and handed him a bowl of the white, mayonnaise filled, oniony goodness.

"You know, I was thinking," she started, "maybe I could teach you my recipe. That way if a shipment ever goes bad again like last season, you'll be able to make it yourself. Then you won't have to settle for chicken salad chick."

Quinn's eyes widened. "You mean, your world famous, secret family recipe? That you've never shared with anyone? EVER?!?" Quinn was shocked that she would even bring it up. He was a little nervous, too. Would he ever be able to make it like mommy?

"You have to swear on Luke and Jack that you'll never share this recipe with anyone, no matter what," mommy said, eyes narrowed. Quinn nodded eagerly, not bothering that to tell mommy that he would swear his brothers away for a chicken nugget. He knew he would take this recipe to his grave, no matter who or what he swore on.

"Come on, dear. Let's first gather our ingredients."

And so Quinn and mommy spent the late hours of the night working away in the kitchen, mommy guiding Quinn through every step carefully. Quinn listened intently, hoping to soak up as much mommy knowledge as he could.

When they were finished, they beheld their giant bowl of chicken salad. The way it glistened in the fluorescent lights of the lake house kitchen nearly brought a tear to Quinn's eye. It truly was beautiful.

Just as Quinn reigned his tear in, he heard a sniffle coming from beside him. He looked over and what he saw nearly broke his heart into pieces.

Mommy has tears streaming down her face. She tried to dab them away with a napkin but they were falling too fast for her to catch them.

Quinn pulled her into his signature Huggy Bear embrace and asked her what was wrong.

"Now that you can do it yourself, there's no need for me anymore. My boys don't need me." Mommy broke down into sobs. Quinn guided her to the table and sat her down. He sat right across from her and took both of her hands into his.

He looked down and started to cry as well. These small, delicate hands had held him and his brother for years. They had brought them up and made them into the man that he was, that all the Hughes boys were. These hands that had played the game themselves, that had taught him much of what he knows, were now trembling with the sobs of the one person that Quinn knew would always be cheering him on.

"Mommy, listen to me." Quinn said, his voice thick with emotion, "There's no one that gives hugs like you. There's no one who puts on rash cream like you. There's no one that makes chicken salad better than you. I may have learned all these things from you, but they can't have the mommy touch when I do them. I'll always need you."

Mommy took a deep breath and smiled at her boy. They hugged for a long time, then packed up their chicken salad. Quinn walked mommy to her room and patted her on the back, reminding her that she would always be his one and only mommy, no matter what happened.

[mitchesbitches]

Mitch and Auston - Locker Room Series

Hey everyone, welcome to my very first series! I'm gonna do a little fanfic about our two favorite boys (Auston and Mitch, duh) and how they interact both on and off the ice ;) enjoy and lmk if you have any requests or suggestions!

The locker room is bustling with activity as the Toronto Maple Leafs players prepare for their next game. Mitch Marner, a charismatic and talented forward, sits at his locker, lacing up his skates. Auston Matthews, a strong and stoic player, approaches him.

Auston smirks. "Hey, Marner, you ready for tonight?"

Mitch looks up from his skates, his eyes lighting up when he sees Auston. He flashes a mischievous grin. "Always ready, Auston. You know me."

Auston leans casually against the locker beside Mitch, his eyes never leaving Mitch's face. "Oh, I know you, alright. You're always full of surprises."

Mitch raises an eyebrow, playfully feigning innocence. "Surprises? Me? I'm just a simple hockey player, Auston. What surprises could I possibly have in store for you?"

Auston smirks, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, let's just say your puck handling skills aren't the only thing that catches my attention."

Mitch's cheeks turn a faint shade of pink as he meets Auston's gaze, his voice lowering playfully. "Are you talking about my passing game, Auston? I've been known to make some pretty sweet assists."

Auston leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's not just the assists that get me, Mitch. It's the way you move on the ice, the way you outmaneuver opponents. You have a certain... finesse."

Mitch's heart skips a beat, and he can't help but return Auston's flirtatious energy. "Finesse, huh? I guess I could say the same about you, Auston. The way you handle that stick... it's impressive."

Auston chuckles, a hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Is that so? Well, I'm glad you appreciate my stick handling skills, Mitch. But let's save the compliments for after the game, shall we?"

Their eyes lock, the playful banter laden with underlying tension. The locker room noise fades away as they become lost in the moment, the chemistry between them palpable.

Mitch smirks. "Oh, definitely. After the game, I'll make sure to give you a private performance."

Auston's lips curl into a seductive smile. "I'll hold you to that, Marner."

Just as their flirty exchange reaches its peak, their coach's voice booms across the locker room, snapping them back to reality.

"Alright, boys, enough chit-chat! It's time to hit the ice!"

Mitch and Auston share a knowing look before they straighten up, ready to focus on the game ahead. But the spark of their shared moment lingers, promising much more to come.

[cuteandhughesy]

auston matthews -

“you’re such a loser”.

“you’re so pretty it pains me” (said to him).

“keep still you little… troll”.

please & thank you. love your work. :)

Drunk In Love | Auston Matthews

summary: your boyfriend has to pick you up from a bar—only to find that you’re sloshed and feeling playful. prompt no. 15: “you’re so pretty it pains me” + prompt no. 28: “keep still you little…troll.”

[word count] 2.1k

warnings: drinking | drunk behaviour | suggestive dialogue

a/n: how is this my first auston work…this man was the reason I started watching hockey in 2016! i’m back to my roots with this one! also this ain’t super detailed because I don’t have the brain capacity for that 😛

🎵 drunk in love by beyoncé & jay-z

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

auston is immediately bombarded when he steps into the club. not only by the overwhelming smell of hard liquor and various sweet floral perfumes, but by jennifer—your red head bubbly best friend who's celebrating her 27th birthday.

he blinks in surprise as jennifer steps in front of him, freckles still visible even under the flashing lights. "i'm sorry," she hisses, looking over her shoulder at what auston can only presume is you, "but she's sloshed." and that confirms his suspicions.

about 20 minutes ago, he answered jennifer's call. he was expecting the worse—you've always been a naturally clumsy person when drinking, and anytime you go out partying with your friends, you're coming home with more scrapes and bruises than you can count. all jennifer really told auston was that you needed a ride home asap, being very vague about the entire situation.

auston put two and two together pretty quickly.

"it's alright," he says, eyes squinting through the dark atmosphere in search of you and the sparkly red top you left the condo in. you're easy to spot, only because you're standing on top of the bar like you're in some cheesy rom com movie, laughing loudly and dancing while everyone cheers you on.

jennifer smiles awkwardly, green eyes darting between you and your less than amused looking boyfriend. auston curses, moving through the sea of bodies until he's at the crowded bar. he gently wraps his hand around you thigh, not hard, but still firm enough to grab your attention.

you look down, and immediately you're beaming at the sight of him. "austonnnnnn," you slur his name loudly, reaching down to steady yourself on his shoulders as he helps you off the table top. as soon as your heels are back on soild ground, you're jumping into auston’s arms—not without almost missing him and falling to the floor if it wasn't for auston's reflexes.

"woah, slow down," he warns lightly, large hands a warm and steady presence on your hips as he steadies you. "hi baby." auston grins slightly, eyes barley visible under the rim of his ball cap. a hiding feature he chose on purpose—auston wasn't really in the mood to wake up tomorrow morning and read a bunch of news tabloids about him picking up his hammered girlfriend at a local toronto club.

"hi." you grin, blinking slowly. auston can feel your heat through hour top-your skin hot to the touch, the affect off one too many shots. the hair you'd previously slicked back into a pony tail is now frizzy and down—eyes glassy and not all there.

auston snickers, already moving you away from the table and back to the direction of the entrance. "are you drunk?" he teases knowingly.

"pssshhh...no!" you decline loudly, shaking your head—but the way you misstep tells a whole different story. you don't even notice that though, too busy looking at your boyfriend with an imaginary lightbulb flickering above your head, "have you come to take a shot with me?" you ask, your excitement obvious.

auston hums, "no, i'm here to bring you home."

"but im not ready to go home," you pout.

"I know, but you can come out next weekend."

his words seem to do the trick, because your face relaxes and your lips form into a lazy grin. "oh yeah," you say matter of factly like it was you who came up with the idea.

"do you have your bag?" auston asks before the both of you can step outside, "where's your phone?"

your small chain bag is slung over your shoulder—which, thank god, because auston did not want to have to search for it in the women's bathroom or under the sticky tables. "my phones under my boob," you say.

he reaches out, fingers sliding under your boob to make sure it is in fact in your top.

it makes you giggle, arching into his touch, completely oblivious. "trying to cop a feel?," you slur, way too loudly for a public space. "you freak."

auston can't help the breathy laugh that leaves him, pulling off your body once he has confirmation that your phone is sitting between your ribs and left boob. "just making sure you've got everything," he corrects your insinuation lightly, wrapping his hand back around your hips. "okay, let's go."

the cold air is a shock after spending time inside the overpacked and overheated club. you instinctively curl into his side, seeking some warmth—no matter how drunk you are, you'll always find a way to get chilled.

as soon as his car is in your line of sight, you gasp, mumbling something incoherent before attempting to run towards the vehicle. you obviously don't get far, not with auston's arm holding you upright, but that doesn't stop you from stumbling on uneven sidewalk—almost sending you to your knees.

it has you giggling but also somehow gasping dramatically all at the same time.

"careful." auston chimes firmly, digging in his back pocket for his keys to unlock the car.

"woah that was scary," you snort, looking up at him with those glassed over eyes he loves. "did you almost trip too?" you ask, dead serious.

auston opens the passenger door, "almost."

"that wouldn't of been good," you slur.

"no, it wouldn't of been." he agrees easily, guiding you into the vehicle, "okay, left foot first babe."

but you're not going that easily. you turn to your boyfriend again, face flashing in fucking betrayal like he just asked you to root for the bruins. "you haven't even kissed me yet," you whine, feet planted on the concrete while your butt connects with the car seat.

he sighs, "let's get in the car first."

"please?" you slur, leaning forward dangerously. auston grips your biceps before you can face plant to the ground, but you're completely oblivious, continuing to beg in a mixture of babbling and slurring, "you're so pretty it pains me! and I need a kiss to make me feel better."

auston takes a deep breath, staring down at you for a beat—seeing if you'll give up. but you don't, continuing to look up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, lips slightly pouted and stained as you wait rather patiently. he sighs again before leaning down and giving you a quick peck.

you beam when be pulls away, bringing your left foot into the car. "you love me," you hum dreamily.

"yeah I do," auston smiles, guiding your right leg inside the car before he leans over your body, clicking the seat belt into place.

you kiss the side of his face sloppily as he makes sure you're buckled, "I love you too."

the 15 minute drive back to your and auston's shared condo is filled with the sound of your voice, singing along to random radio songs in an impromptu karaoke session. anytime you look over at auston and see that he's not singing, you squawk loudly, poking his cheek persistently until he joins in.

thankfully you don't give him too much trouble getting back out of the car, or on the elevator ride up to your floor—the most you do is stumble and talk too loudly, but auston finds it rather funny. you resemble a baby deer, and when he tells you that, you start tearing up about how cute baby animals are.

felix, your shared dog, eyes you both grumpily from his spot on the couch as you pass, clearly upset at be woken up.

auston guides you into the bedroom, helping you kick your heels off while you continue crying, now specifically praising baby horses and their tiny little horse shoes.

he grabs your oversized pyjama shirt, which is actually one of his old men's league shirts that you'd stolen years ago when you first met. auston turns back to you, placing the shirt beside you on the bed. "okay," he starts, "arms up baby."

"why?"

"because you need to get changed," auston says.

you whine, muttering something about feeling tired. regardless you lift your arms, limbs all floppy and heavy as auston attempts taking your sparkly top off.

you wiggle and squirm, laughing as auston's calloused fingers graze against the side of your ribs. your movement makes him sigh, teetering on impatient. "stay still you little...troll."

that gets you to stop moving. "hey! that's mean." you pout incredulously.

"it's not," auston answers easily, pulling your shirt fully off. now free, your phone falls to your lap with a plop. "trolls are cute"

you arms drop to your sides quickly, "no they're not."

"shhh," he teases, pulling off your skirt and tights in one quick and efficient move. "you'll hurt their feelings."

"my boobs are out," you say after a beat.

auston snickers, pushing your head through the stretched neck hole of his old shirt. yeah, they are," he hums, moving to your arm and bending it at the elbow, “hey, put your arms through the holes."

"nooooo," you whine, falling forward to auston’s chest and wrapping your sticky arms loosely around his neck. "I wanna give you a kiss." you mumble, already in the middle of covering his scruff covered jawline in tequila scented kisses. one of your hands sneaks down his body, and before he can even blink, your grabbing his dick.

"jesus baby," his breathe hitches, pulling your hand off his length and putting it back in your lap.

you giggle, "you like that?"

auston shakes his head, putting your arms through the shirt holes before you can grab his dick again. "not tonight, you need to go to sleep."

your face falls. "you don't want me?"

"not when you're drunk."

you scoff, tears pricking your waterline as auston fully pulls the shirt down over your naked body. "you hate me." you state dramatically, arms crossing over your chest.

"not at all," he reassures you softly.

"but you don't want me."

"you're drunk." auston reiterates, which only makes you hum. he can't help the smile that pulls on his face, shaking his head in disbelief at your slurred words and usual drunk shenanigans. "okay baby, let's get you in bed."

the next two minutes are silent as your boyfriend helps you slip under the covers. you sigh happily as the cool sheets envelop around your limbs, head sinking into the fluffy pillow like you're lying on a cloud. auston leaves your lamp on, putting your phone on the beside table—making sure it's plugged in for the morning—before he turns to leave.

but just as his hand touches the door knob, you're whining. "austonnnnnn."

"yes?" he asks, brow quirked.

you make grabby hands at him like a toddler. "come lay with me."

"i'm going to," auston says, "I just gotta take felix out first."

the mention of your dog has you sitting straight up, once again wide awake. auston can't help the way he sighs, falling back against your bedroom door in what feels like defeat.

"can I come?" you ask him, voice full of hope and joy at the thought of running your hands through felix's soft and curly coat. you’ve never wanted to cuddle him more than this very moment.

auston shakes his head gently, "no."

"whyyy?" you whine, lips pouting for the hundredth time tonight. "I love him so much." you admit, voice thickening with emotion as you blink at your boyfriend through the warmly lit bedroom.

he walks back towards you, softly pushing your hair off your face. "I know you do," auston mumbles, thumb stroking your brow bone. "but you're not wearing pants and it's cold outside."

you frown deepens, a single shiny tear falling from your eye and tracing down the round of your cheek. "but," you pause, sniffling gently, "felix will think I don't love him if I don't come."

auston shakes his head, "that's not true." but you only cry more, shrinking in on yourself as sobs wrack through your body. auston coos, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead and then another to your cheek.

even drunk, you don't play about your love for felix.

"how about when I get back I bring him in here for the night?" auston proposes sweetly.

your head lifts, and the sight of your watery eyes have auston pouting. "really?"

"yeah."

and he fully intends on keeping his promise, but 30 minutes later—once the dog has done his business and trotted around the condos front grass—auston opens the bedroom door, only to find you sound asleep.

[lightsoutmatthews]

Forgive and forget - Auston Matthews (Ignored pt. 2)

summary: after the events of last night you and Auston need to talk and finally figure out what happened.

Read pt. 1: Ignored

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: -

authors note:

for the lovely anon who requested me writing a part 2, I really had fun revisiting the story

--------------------------------

When you wake up the next morning the bed next to you is empty. You could still feel his arms around you. He had held you tighter than usual last night, almost as if he was scared you would slip away while he was deep in his dreams.

The lingering anger from last night was almost gone, a good night´s sleep usually something that really helped you calm down after a fight but there was still that little simmer, especially when you thought back to how you got those pitying looks from other attendees.

Auston´s side of the bed was cold. An indication that he must have been up for quite a while. You knew he had a game today, but morning skate wasn’t something he attended on a very regular basis.

The banging of porcelain led you downstairs into the open kitchen of your shared home. A quiet voice mumbling something, but you couldn’t quite make out what. Maybe he was humming along to a song or talking to Felix. A usual occurence in your household.

As you took the last steps on the stairs you realized you weren’t wearing anything other than a pair of panties and one of Auston´s very oversized shirts that ended just above your knee. Not really an appropriate outfit for the talk you were about to have but at the same time you were too lazy to go back upstairs and change. This will just have to do.

The sight that awaited you in the kitchen had you let out a quiet laugh. Auston was shirtless, juggling a pan in one hand while he tried to fetch toast out of the toaster with the other. At the same time Felix was running circles around his dads legs making him almost trip over the dogs back.

“Do you need some help?” you questioned laughing, making your presence known at the same time. He flinched, almost dropping the toast and tipping the pan a tad too far so the eggs were on the edge of dropping onto the floor.

You rushed over, grabbing it from his hands before putting it on one of the coasters laying out on the counter ready for usage.

“Good morning,” he said after putting the toast on one of the plates sitting in front of him that were already loaded with freshly cut fruit. A soft huff left your mouth.

Auston making breakfast wasn’t a typical occurrence in your household.

Sure, he did it every now and then on special occasions like your birthday, an anniversary or just when he felt like it but today you knew exactly what he was doing. This was an apology.

“Morning,” you replied but subtly evaded his attempt for a kiss because you knew how this would probably end, and you really needed to talk before that happened.

He shot you a confused and almost offended look when he realized what you did. “Talk first, okay?” you requested quietly.

He plated the rest of breakfast before sitting down across from you on the large, wooden dining room table. Taking a sip from his coffee he looked at you with waiting eyes.

“I know we already talked about this last night but what was going on?” you questioned, looking him directly into the eyes, catching the warm glint the rising sun behind your back coasted them in.

He brushed his hands over his face before taking another long sip from his mug. You knew he was thinking, you had been together long enough for you to pick up on the subtle changes in his demure whenever he was doing something but didn’t want people to know.

“Like I said last night, I was so wrapped up in my shit.” He swallowed. His adam´s apple popping out stronger than usual. “I really don’t have a good explanation for you, but I am sorry.”

You took a deep breath. That wasn’t really what you wanted to hear but at the same time you were glad that he was honest with you. Telling you he didn´t know was still better than just making up some lousy excuse.

“It really hurt me, Aus.” You used the nickname on purpose, signaling that you weren’t really mad anymore but still said it with just enough bite to get your point across.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him with one finger. “The looks Willy and Mitch gave me stung but the looks from the people who didn’t even have any idea who I was were worse. They knew I was there with you but just looked at me like I was some random woman you brought so you didn’t have to come alone.”

You took a quick pause to take a bite from your toast. Swallowing hard before speaking again. “We have been together for years, Auston. I know you value your privacy but at this point in our relationship people shouldn’t think I´m just some random woman on your arm.”

You tried to not sound accusing, more like you were just describing how you felt to him, but you were failing miserably. The tensing of his shoulders a clear indication of it.

“I know,” he interjected before you could go any further. “Do you…?” you challenged.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. “It certainly didn’t feel like you knew last night. And I´m sorry, I don’t want to fight about it any more than you do, but I felt like I wasn’t important last night.”

You once again stopped him from interrupting, this time he reacted by rapidly blinking. “I know you´re at these things to shmooze sponsors and not to hang out with me but I hope you understand what I mean.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just starring into his plate as if it had a perfect answer for him. “You are the most important person in my life.”

A loud sigh left your mouth. Of course, you knew you were. He showed it in the small things that he did. Like making you an iced coffee before he leaves for morning skate and putting it in the fridge so it wouldn’t get watered down. How he ordered you food when he was on the road because “just had a feeling” that you could use something to eat or a sweet treat. How he checked in on you as many times as he could via text, even when he was supposed to busy.

You hardly ever felt like you came second to hockey and when you did you understood. During the playoffs or important stretches in the regular season.

“Yeah, but that is not what this is about.”

When you looked back at him, he seemed like he didn’t know what else he should say to make it up to you.

If you were being honest, you also didn’t know what you wanted to hear. The lingering anger wasn’t really prominent anymore ever since you shared your feelings with him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he stated, looking down at Felix who was spreading out under the table to be close to both of his favorite humans.

“I don’t know what I want you to say either,” you answered honestly.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked with genuine sincerity, not because he wanted to know what he had to do to make it go away.

You dropped your fork and reached out to grab his hand that he had placed on the table while eating. His pleading eyes weren’t lost on you. His vulnerable state not something you saw often. When it happened it always was in the comfort of your own home.

The loving expression on his face made you melt, all the anger that was still left deep inside you puffing away as soon as you looked at him.

“You don’t have to make it up to me, this…” you moved your arms over the plates. “…is already more than I would ask for. I just wanted to talk about it again, clear the air so that we´re on the same page as to why I was so angry last night.”

He nodded and softly squeezed your hand that was still holding his.

“So, I am forgiven?” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes but laughed. “Yeah, you are forgiven but…” you paused dramatically. “…don’t do it again.” he finished for you which made both of you break out a laugh.

“I promise.” He responded before getting up and dragging you to the other side of the table so you could sit on his lap. “I love you, baby.” He added, before placing a slow and careful kiss to your lips.

“I love you too,” you mumbled in between kisses. “Even though you piss me off so bad sometimes,” you added laughing before pulling him into another kiss.

[sophsbookstore]

Cookies Included

Auston Matthews x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1500

A/N: posting all my hockey drafts! NHL master list (hopefully) come soon

Auston Matthews was in the kitchen, trying his best to look serious as he watched you roll out dough for the cookies. You were wearing one of his old jerseys—an oversized, cozy thing—and you looked so focused that it made Auston grin despite his best efforts to look like he was helping.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re making all of these,” he said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, but his eyes never left you. “You're going to make me the most popular guy on the plane. I’ll have everyone on the team eating out of my hand with these.”

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder. “You know, it’s not just about getting you brownie points with the guys. I’ve been practicing these recipes, and I want them to be perfect.”

Auston’s face lit up. “So you’re baking for me, then?”

You giggled, turning to face him. “Well, I’m baking for you, but you’ll have to share with your teammates. No choice there, Mr. Popular.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re making me share your cookies? I feel like that’s a crime.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love a little attention,” you teased, rolling the dough out with the kind of precision that spoke to your inner perfectionist. “Besides, you know you’ll look good bringing these snacks Matthews.”

His lips curled into a grin. “I always look good, what are you talking about?”

You were in the middle of cutting out the first batch of cookies when Auston stepped up behind you. His broad chest was warm against your back, and he placed his hands on the counter, peering over your shoulder. “I’m really good at decorating, you know. I could help with that part.”

You snorted, unable to hold it in. “Oh, yeah? I’m sure your ‘skills’ could rival those of a professional pastry chef.”

“Hey, I’ve got an eye for detail,” he said, his tone playful but feigning confidence. “Watch and learn.”

You handed him a piping bag filled with icing and grinned. “Alright, show me what you got, Matthews.”

Auston took the bag and squeezed it, but the icing didn’t come out in the neat little swirl he was hoping for. Instead, it splattered across the cookie in a way that could only be described as abstract art.

He glanced at you with wide eyes. “Huh.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “That’s... not exactly what I envisioned when I asked for ‘decorating help.’ But nice try.”

Auston gave you a sheepish smile and then leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Okay, fine. I might not be a decorator, but I’m a pro at eating them. So, I’ll leave the fancy stuff to you. I’ll just be your official taste tester.”

“You can taste-test all you want, but you’re not getting out of this,” you replied with a smirk as you skillfully decorated the next batch of cookies, leaving the ones he had touched to the side. “You’re still helping me. You’ve got two hands, Auston. Use them.”

“I’ll use one hand for icing, and the other hand for… well, more eating.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing your cheeks to heat up, though you tried to keep a straight face.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

He just chuckled, stepping back to give you room to finish the batch. “It’s hard to resist when I’ve got such a cute baker in front of me.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling your heart race a little. “Are you flirting with me while covered in icing?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Auston said with a wink. “But seriously, you look adorable, even when you’re criticizing my decorating skills.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. “Stop being so charming,” you said, trying to focus on piping icing onto the last batch of cookies. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

He grinned like he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re welcome.”

After a while, the cookies were ready. You’d decorated them with a mix of simple designs and some that were a little more chaotic thanks to Auston’s input. The cookies were definitely an interesting mix of perfectly neat and totally offbeat. But you’d made them with love, and that was what mattered.

Auston packed them up carefully, grabbing the container and wrapping it up in cling wrap. “Alright, time to go. I’ve got a plane to catch and a team of hungry guys waiting for these. Let’s just hope they’re good enough to forgive the, uh, artistic choices we made.”

“They’ll love them,” you said, your confidence back. “They may look weird, but they’ll taste amazing. I’m not saying I’m a genius, but I know what I’m doing in the kitchen.”

“Just like you know what you’re doing to my heart, huh?” Auston shot you a playful wink as he lifted the container with one hand.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Okay, smooth talker. Go give the guys their cookies before you get too cocky.”

Auston leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading toward the door. “I’ll text you after the game. Promise I’ll save a couple for us when I get back.”

“Don’t you dare eat all of them,” you called after him with a laugh.

“I can’t make any promises,” he teased back, his voice fading as he walked out of the apartment, leaving you with a smile that stayed with you long after he was gone.

The next day, you were pacing around your kitchen, anxiously waiting for a message from Auston. He’d landed in Boston, played his game, and was probably having fun with the guys. You had a feeling that they were probably getting a kick out of the cookies.

Sure enough, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly.

Auston:They taste amazing, but I’m pretty sure half of them look like they belong in a modern art museum. I think Mitch is planning to hang one on the wall.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you typed back.

You’re welcome. I’m just happy they didn’t taste like a disaster. At least they won’t be getting bored with plain old chocolate chip cookies.

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

Auston:You’d be amazed how many times we’ve joked about how much your cookies look like a Picasso painting. But seriously, the guys all loved them. I’ll bring some back for you. Promise.

You better, Matthews. Those cookies didn’t make themselves.

Auston:I know. I’ll never question your baking skills again.

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm inside. The night was still young, but you could already tell that it was going to be a great one—cookies, playful banter, and the thought of Auston coming home to you later made the wait feel worth it.

When Auston finally returned, a few days later, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for him. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, holding a bag of leftover cookies. He immediately dropped it on the table and came over to give you a tight hug.

“You look good, babe,” he murmured into your hair, his arms strong around you. “Missed you.”

You pulled away, grinning. “Missed you too, but I’m more excited for these cookies.”

Auston laughed, grabbing the bag from the table and handing it over. “I was almost going to eat them all on the flight home. But I’m a man of my word, so here you go.”

You eagerly opened the bag, pulling out one of the cookies that had survived the trip back. You inspected it carefully, noting that it was one of the more... experimental ones. “Hmm. This one looks like it was decorated by a toddler.”

Auston chuckled. “We can thank Mitch for that one. He said he’d hang it on the wall for me.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened. “Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—these might actually be your best work.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re happy I brought them back,” Auston said, sitting down beside you. He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe because you just love me that much.”

You bumped him with your shoulder. “Maybe a little bit of both. But seriously, next time you decorate, let’s just stick to the simple designs.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said with a wink, pulling you close. “But only because it’s you.”

You smiled, leaning into him, the warmth of his arms and the sugary sweetness of the cookies making everything feel perfect.

“Good thing I’m so irresistible,” he added with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

“Lucky? I’m a hockey player. We’re basically all good-looking by default.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss him. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, let’s finish these cookies.”

Auston grinned, wrapping his arm around you, his focus on the cookies fading as he pulled you closer.

"You're all I need, cookies included."

[3416]

Auston Matthews scores his 17th goal of the season to tie the game with an assist from Mitch Marner, making Mitch the fastest Leaf in franchise history to 700 career points.

"These two guys have been magic together for years." -Mike Johnson

Leafs vs Devils | 01.16.25

[jackhues]

sixty five years - auston matthews

notes: i hope you guys like this, eight fic for 'it's the most wonderful time of the year' celly :))

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

part of naqia's end of the year celly!

gif not mine

"there we go!" you grinned, finally finding a sweater to match your pants and boots.

you pulled it over your head, laughing a little once you realized what it was.

during your first christmas with auston, the two of you had gone shopping over the holidays. you saw a pair of ugly christmas sweaters and of course, needed to get one for you and auston.

at first, he'd been hesitant, but he fell in love with it quite quickly. it was almost tied with his ryan reynolds ugly christmas sweater for all time favourites.

and the fact that you two had a matching one definitely boosted how much he liked it.

you made your way downstairs with a little grin on your face.

you were on your way to a breakfast date with auston. the two of you were going to head to a little cafe, one that'd become 'your place'.

you stopped at the bottom of the stairs, freezing once you realized auston was dressed in the same ugly christmas sweater as you.

he looked up from his phone, raising a brow once he noticed you were wearing the same sweater as him.

grinning, he held an arm out, "great minds think alike."

"i can't believe this wasn't even planned," you laughed, taking his arm and walking to the cafe.

it wasn't too far from your house, barely five minutes. and it was a small cafe too, which meant that you were able to get away from the prying eyes of the public.

auston held the door open for you once you arrived. "after you."

"thank you," you grinned, entering the cafe.

the two of you placed your order, greeting the regular workers that you recognized.

"oh, you two look so cute," one of the older workers smiled, motioning to your matching sweaters. "absolutely adorable, my favourites."

you laughed, "this wasn't even planned!"

"aha!" she grinned. "that's what happens when you spend so much time with a person. trust me, i've been married to the same guy for sixty five years now."

you and auston laughed, grabbing your order and making your way to a booth.

"sixty five years," auston whistled. "that's a long time, eh?"

"well, we've got one down," you shrugged. "what's sixty four more?"

[daeniradraconis]

plz a auston matthews with fluff prompt 5 or 6!

Thank you for requesting! 💖

Exactly the Way You Are

Auston Matthews had never been one to care what people thought of him. On the ice, he was ruthless, a powerhouse of skill and precision. Off the ice, he was a little different. A little softer, a little more particular about things like fashion, skincare, or the way he folded his sweaters. And it had never really bothered him before.

Until you.

Because suddenly, he found himself second-guessing. Suddenly, he caught himself hesitating before ordering sushi instead of a steak, before tossing on a designer coat instead of a flannel, before meticulously applying his moisturizer in the morning. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of every single way he might not measure up to the men you had been with before.

For the first time in his life, a relationship wasn’t just about having fun—it was about you. It was about keeping you. And only two weeks in, he knew. He was in love with you, and he never wanted to let you go.

Which was why the thought of you realizing he might not be enough for you, scared the absolute hell out of him.

Because your exes? They were the kind of men who made Auston feel like he was playing pretend. A soldier, a farmer and a firefighter. Guys who could chop wood with their bare hands and fix an engine without breaking a sweat. Men who probably thought a ten-step skincare routine was some kind of witchcraft and would rather eat raw meat than admit they’d ever used lip balm.

So Auston tried. God, did he try.

He took you to steakhouses, even though he much preferred sushi. He wore rugged flannels—even though he hated how they felt, all stiff and itchy—and made a point of rolling up his sleeves when he was fixing things around the house (which, let’s be honest, usually meant watching a YouTube tutorial for an hour before calling a professional). He threw around words like “torque” and “horsepower,” even though he had no real clue what they meant.

But then, there were moments when he slipped—when the real Auston surfaced, whether he meant to or not. Like when you caught him meticulously folding his sweaters, using a technique he’d picked up from some high-end fashion influencer, just to keep his wool cardigan in pristine condition. Or when he helped you pick out the perfect moisturizer for Toronto’s brutal winter, because after just a month in the cold, your skin always felt like sandpaper. Or when he let out a frustrated sigh after a particularly bad game and you found him later in bed, a lavender sheet mask on his face and an expensive candle burning on the nightstand.

And tonight? Tonight was one of those nights.

You watched as he carefully plated the pasta he’d just made, placing each strand with precision before garnishing it with fresh basil. His brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in concentration—he looked like an artist at work.

“You know,” you mused, leaning against the counter with a smirk, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Auston shot you a puzzled look. “Pretend what?”

“That you’re something you’re not.” You reached across the counter, letting your hand gently slide down his forearm. “That you’re this rugged, tough guy all the time. I mean, I love that you try so hard, but Aus…” You tilted your head, offering him a warm smile. “It’s actually really sexy that you care about this kind of stuff.”

His fingers froze over the plate. “What stuff?” He tried to play it off, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“This.” You gestured to the food, the perfectly pressed shirt he wore, the way his skin practically glowed—thanks to whatever magic serum he used—and the accessories that matched effortlessly with his outfit, right down to the purple beanie perched on his head.

Even if Auston had toned down his fashion choices a bit, trying to seem more traditionally “manly” for you, he still looked perfectly put together. Stylish. And, honestly? Mouthwateringly sexy.

“You take care of yourself. You care about the details. And honestly? That’s peak masculinity to me.”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “But your exes—”

“They’re my exes for a reason,” you interrupted, stepping around the counter and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want you, Matty. Believe it or not.”

You could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way he hesitated, like he was waiting for you to take it all back. Like he was still unsure whether the way he was was enough for you.

“I know you use a women’s deodorant just because you love the smell,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you put SPF on your face every morning, then secretly reapply it every few hours, thinking I don’t notice.” A small smile played on your lips. “I see you spending hours in the kitchen, making sure everything is perfect, just to do something nice for us. You try to hide those things, like they don’t fit into some idea of what a man is supposed to be.”

You leaned in, pressing your cheek against his chest. “But Matty, I love those things about you. I love that you care, that you pay attention, that you take care of yourself—and us. That’s not something to hide. That’s not less masculine.” Your voice softened, becoming a gentle reassurance. “That’s what makes you, you. And that’s exactly who I want.”

His arms circled your waist, but there was still a hint of hesitation in his touch. “Yeah, but… what if you wake up one day and realize you’d rather be with someone who can actually build you a bookshelf, instead of paying someone else to do it?”

You laughed softly, standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Baby, I’m not looking for a guy who can build a bookshelf—I need someone to build a life with me. And, ideally, someone who knows the difference between La Mer and drugstore moisturizer. Because if I ever get pregnant and can’t use retinol, at least one of us needs to keep my skincare game strong.”

He huffed out a laugh, pulling you closer. “You really don’t want me to start chopping wood in the backyard?”

You grinned, dragging your fingers through his hair. “I mean, you could, just for fun. But let’s be real—you’d spend more time making sure your flannel matched your beanie than actually chopping.”

“Wow.” He pulled back just enough to raise an eyebrow at you. “You’re really coming for me right now.”

“I’m just saying,” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “I love you exactly the way you are. No flannel required.”

He exhaled, something in his expression softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, pulling him down for another soft kiss. “But for the record, if you ever do grow a full blown beard, I reserve the right to call you Lumberjack Papi.”

Auston groaned. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You smiled mischievously.

He shook his head with a playful grin before crashing his lips against yours, deeper this time, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you even closer. The kiss became more urgent, more desperate, as the world around you seemed to blur. The pasta sat forgotten on the counter, the only thing that mattered was the heat between you.

–

Later that night, you both found yourselves tangled in the sheets, his head resting against your chest, the warmth of his body pressing into yours like he belonged there. His slow, steady breathing was like a soft rhythm, a lullaby that pulled you into a calm, peaceful quiet. His arm was draped over you, fingers lightly curling into the fabric of your shirt, as if trying to keep you close. You lovingly ran your fingers through his hair, the soft curls brushing against your fingertips as his breath warmed your skin.

His golden tan glowed faintly under the dim light, the perfect contrast to the dark mess of his hair, and every now and then, the faintest shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady beat of his heart a comforting presence against yours. His mustache—still that goofy, charming thing—brushed against your skin as he shifted slightly, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out.

"You look so peaceful when you sleep," you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, feeling his warmth sink deeper into you.

Auston hummed, a soft, contented noise that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a half-chuckle. His grip on you tightened just a little, pulling you in closer as his sleepy eyes flickered open, barely adjusting to the dark. His gaze was hazy, unfocused, the deep brown of his eyes soft and distant, as if he was still caught in the in-between of sleep and wakefulness.

"'S’cause of you," he mumbled in that thick, sleepy voice of his, barely more than a whisper. "Always you. Don’ ever wanna let you go, babe."

Your heart skipped a beat, a gentle ache blossoming in your chest. It wasn’t even intentional, the way he said it—his words muffled by sleep, heavy with the warmth of his affection, like a confession he didn’t even realize he was sharing.

"You’re not even awake right now," you teased gently, your fingers grazing over his jawline.

He huffed a little, a sleepy laugh escaping him, and his arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, like he wanted to make sure you were right there. His face nuzzled into your chest, his nose brushing against your skin, and he sighed deeply, like the world could melt away as long as he stayed wrapped up in you.

As you lay there, his warmth surrounding you, everything else felt so distant. There were no worries, no doubts—just the steady beat of his heart against yours. He was exactly what you needed—his quiet strength, the little ways he cared for you, the way he made you feel safe even in the simplest moments. It was those small, real things that mattered most.

In his arms, there was no pressure to be anything other than what you were. Just him—Auston. The guy who could make you laugh, who made you feel seen and heard, and most importantly, who made you feel loved.

And as you drifted off to sleep, tangled in him, you just knew. He was yours. Forever.

[misshoneyimhome]

What's up buttercups 💕

I present to you, chapter fourteen 💕 There's really not much to say here, except things might get a bit more tense now - and spoiler alert: it's the not punch we wanted, but it's the punch needed (in case you get that Batman reference... because well, your girl here and Auston love their Batman) 🔥

Anyway, happy reading! 💋

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, language, 18+ smut: semi-public sexual activities, mutual masturbation, unprotected vag sexual intercourse (cum inside)

Word count: 6.9k Chapter one ; Chapter two ; Chapter three ; Chapter four ; Chapter five ; Chapter six ; Chapter seven ; Chapter eight ; Chapter nine; Chapter ten; Chapter eleven; Chapter twelve ; Chapter thirteen

Some who might have interest: @hockeybabe87 @tonyspep @thesecretestblogever @delayed-delusions @kurlyteuvo @emsdevs

➼｡ﾟ

Chapter fourteen - A queen can move wherever she likes*

::

“Dearest Toronto readers,

It’s been a long weekend in the kingdom, and your favourite royal court has been buzzing. We’ve seen cheek kisses on sidewalks, power plays behind closed doors, and perhaps most shockingly of all—a certain Ice King was spotted somewhere far more dangerous than centre ice: the Queen’s childhood home.

Yes, you read that right. Auston Matthews, NHL captain and Toronto’s most elusive bachelor, was seen not at a club, not at brunch, but walking through suburban front doors with a bottle of wine and a confident stride. A boyfriend meeting the Queen dowager? That’s either reckless or royal behaviour—and in this game, it might be both.

Sources say the dinner included siblings, twins, toddlers, and passive-aggressive wine pouring. Was it a PR move? A strategic play to reinforce the illusion? Or are we watching something real—something raw—unfold right before our eyes?

Meanwhile, back in the city…

Matthew Knies continues his personal heater on the ice and in our hearts. With a face made for fan cams and a slap shot that belongs in a museum, the baby Leaf is proving he’s more than just Auston’s golden boy.

William Nylander was spotted this weekend at a downtown café, deep in conversation with a brunette definitely not on the official WAG roster. Eyewitnesses say they were laughing. And sharing a croissant. Sharing. Is the chill Swede finally warming up?

And let’s not forget the true MVPs of game nights: the Tavares children, who had the entire Scotiabank section in tears after high-fiving the Zamboni driver and declaring, “Daddy’s team always wins.”

But beneath the laughter, one truth remains: the Queen is no longer sitting still. She’s been introducing families, teasing captains, and walking through this season like she owns the ice.

They think the Ice King holds the crown… But what happens when the Queen chooses not to wait?

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

_

You woke up slowly, reluctantly, like your body already knew Monday was going to demand more than you had to give.

Your muscles ached. A deep, humming kind of soreness that made itself known with every shift beneath the duvet. The inside of your thighs were tender. Your shoulder throbbed faintly where Auston’s mouth had lingered too long. And your heart? That was worse. Because it wasn’t bruised—it was confused.

Sunday had been… a lot. Dinner with your family. The backseat. His hands. His mouth. His voice—low, sharp, hungry. You like pushing me? This what you wanted?

Your breath caught at the memory, at how easily it replayed in your mind. You hadn’t even kissed him goodbye. And he hadn’t stayed.

But it hadn’t felt cold, either.

You should’ve stopped it. That would’ve been smart. Strategic. The kind of move a woman playing pretend would make. But when he touched you like that—when he looked at you like you were something worth coming undone for—logic folded like tissue paper.

He’d left a message: “See you around, boss. Like this version of you, Pushy. And bossy…” With just enough cheek to make you smile when you read it, hair still damp from the shower, legs still trembling when you moved too quickly. At the time, it had seemed casual. Now, in the bright stillness of Monday morning, it felt… unfinished.

You wrapped your robe tighter around your body and padded to the kitchen, where your coffee sat untouched beside your open laptop.

Just stood there with your hands wrapped around the edge of the counter like it might ground you. A breeze slipped through the cracked window, rustling the little notes stuck to the fridge—grocery lists, old concert stubs, a photo of you and your sister with matching sunburns. Your life. Unchanged. Unmoved. Except now, it felt like something seismic had shifted beneath the surface.

Work emails blinked at you like neon signs, demanding your attention, but your mind kept wandering. The curve of his jaw. The grip of his fingers. The weight of his stare next to you at your mother’s dinner table like he was undressing you through the candlelight.

As soon as you sat down by your desk, you missed two emails before you realised it—one from your manager, one from Chase asking about something vague and unimportant. You blinked, forced yourself to refocus, and typed out an overly enthusiastic response to both.

And then a few minutes later your phone buzzed.

Jess: Sooooo… are you alive? Or did Auston’s post-dinner cardio kill you?

You snorted and dropped your head against the back of your chair.

You: Barely alive. Legs? Done. Nervous system? Shot.

Jess: Damn giiirl… I need a full breakdown.

You: There will be diagrams.

Jess: Can’t wait babe! But uhm, btw, Liam and I are going to the game Wednesday! He got tickets through work, I think. And.. Ryan will be there too, apparently, with some new girl. Hope that’s ok 👀

You blinked a couple of times and then sat a bit straighter.

You stared at the message longer than necessary, thumb hovering like it might change. The knot in your stomach wasn’t quite jealousy. It was something different—half guilt, half relief. Ryan had always been a good friend. And yet the memory of Ryan trying to kiss you, asking about you… of watching from across the arena… it made your pulse spike in a way that felt more like warning than longing.

Yet, you decided to play it cool.

You: Oh yeah? That’s… good. Hope it’s not weird.

Jess: I told Ryan you’d be with the team partners anyway, so he probably won’t try anything. Just a heads-up.

You: Appreciate the buffer. Truly.

You stared at the message for a moment, chewing your lip. Ryan had almost kissed you. He’d asked about you last week... Now he was showing up with a date at a game. Maybe that was progress. Maybe that was closure.

Still… you didn’t like the unease that lingered.

You brushed it off and returned to work. As much as you could without thinking about a certain hockey captain, of course.

_

The morning air was crisp—one of those deceptively calm November mornings where the sun peeks through grey clouds just enough to look hopeful, but the chill still cuts through your hoodie.

A man passed with a cup of Tim’s in one hand and a mini Leafs jersey in the other. Auston caught the flash of his own number—34—scrawled across the back. He didn’t wave. Didn’t nod. Just kept walking while Felix paused to inspect a lamppost like it held answers.

Auston kept one hand jammed in his pocket while the other held Felix’s leash, loose and easy. The dog trotted ahead, nose twitching with every new scent, tail wagging like the win the night before had meant something to him, too.

Auston wasn’t smiling, but the edge of his mouth tugged every so often—remembering the way you’d looked last night.

That skirt had no business being legal. It clung to you like second skin, the kind that demanded to be peeled away. He could still see the way you’d shifted under his gaze, like you knew what you were doing to him, and maybe you did. The hem had barely covered the tops of your thighs, riding up with every step you took through the hallway of your childhood home, like a tease only meant for him.

You’d worn it like it was made for you.

Like it was made for him.

And maybe it had been.

He exhaled through his nose, the breath sharp in the cool morning air, and shoved both hands deeper into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. Felix tugged at the leash a few steps ahead, sniffing out his usual trail, completely unbothered by his owner’s unravelling mental state.

This was supposed to be easy.

Light and fake.

But it didn’t feel fake anymore.

Not after the way you’d gripped the edge of the seat in his car like it was the only thing anchoring you to earth. Not after the way your voice had cracked when you said his name, breathless, wrecked, undone. Like he was something precious and forbidden all at once.

Not after the way you’d let him in without hesitation—into your house, into your body, into the soft, bruised places you hadn’t let anyone touch in a long time.

And now, hours later, with the scent of you still clinging to his hoodie and the phantom of your moans looping in his head like a goddamn soundtrack, he was walking his dog like a man trying to reset his heartbeat. Like a man trying not to admit that he’d crossed a line he didn’t want to uncross.

He was lost in thoughts until suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He slid it out without thinking, thumb swiping across the screen.

It was a photo sent by his sister. And beneath it, one line: “Mamma saw this yet?”

The image showed him standing in your mother’s kitchen, slightly out of focus but unmistakably there. One of your nieces—or cousins?—perched on his hip, his hair slightly mussed, a half-smile caught mid-laugh as you passed him something off-screen. The whole thing looked too real. Too domestic.

Too… couple-y.

It wasn’t the kid on his hip that rattled him—it was the look on his own face. Relaxed. Happy, even. Like he belonged there, laughing in kitchens and holding babies and handing out second servings of salad like it was a Sunday ritual. It wasn’t fake. That was the worst part. He hadn’t even been pretending.

“Shit,” he muttered.

And as if on cue, his phone buzzed again. And this time it was a call.

Mom.

He sighed and picked up. “Hey.”

“So.” Ema didn’t waste time. “You meet her family before I get to meet her?”

“Wasn’t exactly planned—”

“Auston.” His name was a warning wrapped in amusement. “Is this really serious? Because I’m already being texted by Mitchy’s mother who thinks I’m ‘next. And I hope I am…”

He winced. “It’s not—We haven’t really talked about—”

“You had dinner with her family, mijo. That’s serious, right.”

He ran a hand down his face. “Mamma”

“Oh, that’s it. I’m coming to Toronto. This weekend. It’s only fair I meet the girl if you’ve met her family.”

The line went quiet for a second, and then: “You’re not mad, are you Mijo?”

He paused, looking out over the dog park path ahead of him. Felix had finally stopped sniffing and started walking again, tail high.

“No,” Auston said finally. “No, I’m not mad, mamma. I’m just… not sure how to put words into it all”

“Oh honey. That’s completely normal. Sometimes love can do that to you.”

His mother’s voice was nothing but soft and gentle. Yet, it twisted something within him. Something strangely… good.

“Hmm…” he muttered under his breath. “I guess.”

I few more minutes went by as they said their goodbye before he ended the call and just stood there. Felix barked at a squirrel in the distance, but Auston didn’t flinch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cold fingers meeting warm skin, heart kicking just a little faster. This was the part where lines got blurry. Where fake turned into something more. Where people—his people—started expecting explanations.

Was this serious?

Yeah.

Yeah, it was starting to feel that way.

And the worst part?

He didn’t hate it. Not even a little.

_

The office felt louder than usual.

Not in volume—nobody was shouting, no alarms were going off—but in the subtle, pervasive kind of way. Like something was humming just below the surface. You caught it in the way two of your co-workers stopped mid-conversation when you entered the kitchen, the way they exchanged glances over their coffee mugs with poorly hidden smirks.

You told yourself it was nothing. Probably just end-of-quarter chaos. Or the broken espresso machine. Or Chase’s ugly tie.

But then: “Did you see the one where he’s holding the plates? Like, actual dessert plates?”

You froze.

That voice was too close. Two desks behind you. You recognised it—Kelsey from HR, who somehow always knew things about you before you did.

“Honestly,” said someone else, “he looks like he belongs there. Like he’s her boyfriend or something.”

“Didn’t her sister post that to Close Friends? How did it even get out?”

You blinked hard at your screen. Your emails blurred.

No. No way.

You opened Instagram, hands trembling slightly, and navigated to your sister’s profile. Her story was still there: Auston in your mother’s kitchen, holding a handful of dessert plates with one of the twins next to him, you in the background laughing with your head tilted back like something out of a romcom. She hadn’t meant for it to go public.

Apparently, someone had changed that.

You dropped your head into your hand and let out a groan. This was too much. First the charity gala. Then the photo at the game. Now this?

You barely heard your phone buzz.

Jess [Voice Note, 0:58]

“Okay. Okay, listen. I’ve been trying not to scream all morning but—babe. I saw the photos. Those of Auston? In your mum’s kitchen? Carrying fucking dessert plates? He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. Like you hung the damn wallpaper and he wants to kiss you against it. I cried a little. I’m not okay.”

You let the audio finish, one hand dragging down your face.

Maya [Text, 1:46 p.m.]

Okay wait… are you two actually in love? Because I’m starting to believe the fairy tale and I need to know whether to invest emotionally or not.

You didn’t answer. Because you didn’t know how.

Instead, you stared at the blinking cursor on your screen and thought about the way Auston had gripped your thighs last night. The way he’d looked at you at the dinner table like you were the most fascinating thing in the room—more interesting than your brothers’ finance talk, more powerful than your mother’s smile.

You thought about the bruise on your hip, the ache that still hadn’t fully left your body.

And just like that – as if someone had read your mind, your phone buzzed again. A new message.

Auston: So, dinner again this week?

Just six words. Direct and simple. Classic him.

You stared at it for too long, thumb hovering. Part of you wanted to reply with something cheeky. Another part wanted to say yes. Absolutely. Please.

Instead, you typed:

You: Let’s see how Wednesday goes. Then we’ll see if you deserve my company at dinner.

Auston: Can’t wait to see you there, boss… hopefully, with my name on you. Or better yet, me on you…

But then, you left him on read.

Not because you didn’t want him. God, you did. But because this—this moment of silence—was the only control you felt like you had. After the gossip, the glances, the screenshots, the stories. After opening yourself up more than you had in years.

You needed a beat to breathe.

Just one.

_

Wednesday -

The Scotiabank Arena buzzed with anticipation, a low hum of energy thick in the air even before puck drop. It was the kind of night that made Toronto feel alive from the inside out.

You adjusted the hem of Auston’s jersey as you stepped into the private suite, sleeves pushed to your elbows, the oversized fit swallowing your frame just right.

"Well, well, well," Tessa grinned as she spotted you, her voice cutting through the chatter like a chirp on the bench. "Look who’s back in her boyfriend’s uniform. You do know that makes it official, right?"

"It’s just a jersey," you said, but the smirk tugging at your lips betrayed you.

"Sure it is," Stephanie chimed in from her spot on the plush couch, legs crossed and glass of white wine in hand. "But the Matthews name looks really good on you."

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warm, and sank into a seat between them. The suite was already bustling, the partners and families sipping drinks, laughing, passing snacks back and forth. Gaby was in the corner with Estelle, whispering and giggling about something you couldn’t quite hear over the announcer calling the players to the ice.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. A message from Jess:

Jess: "We're in 108. Liam just spilled half his beer cheering for Knies during warmup. Classic."

You: "Love that for him. You good?"

Jess: "Very good. Ryan’s here too. With a girl. Just FYI. He asked about you. I told him you were too busy for him."

Your stomach did a weird little dip. Once again, you weren’t sure if it was annoyance or relief.

You: "Appreciate the strategic deflection."

Jess: "Always. Go enjoy your little hockey husband."

You slipped your phone into your pocket just as the lights dimmed and the arena roared to life. The anthem played, the puck dropped, and the game began with a bang.

From the first shift, it was clear the Leafs were locked in. Auston was skating like he had something to prove—which, to be fair, he always kind of did. His edges were sharp, movements fluid, and his eyes tracked the puck like a predator in control. You watched as he dangled around two Knights defenders and fed a no-look pass to Knies, who roofed it top shelf.

The suite erupted.

"That kid," Aryne breathed, shaking her head. "I swear he was made in a lab."

"He was made by God and Minnesota," Tessa laughed. "In that order."

By the end of the first period, Auston had a goal to his name and an assist. He shot you a look from the bench as he caught his breath, one brow slightly raised, a smirk ghosting his lips. You felt your pulse skip like a scratched record.

Then during the break, the Tavares kids naturally burst into the suite with wide eyes and sticky fingers.

"Can you play mini sticks with us?" Axton asked loudly already pulling you by the hand.

“Alright mr,” you chuckled lightly before you dropped to your knees on the carpet without a second thought, laughing as you tried to keep up with their chaotic energy.

"Unfair!" Jace then shouted. "She’s too good!"

"Oh, I learned from the best," you teased, ruffling his hair.

You were breathless by the time Gaby handed you a water bottle and helped peel one of the kids off your back.

"Natural," she said with a grin. "Tavares might offer you a babysitting gig."

"Well, maybe if this PR thing doesn’t work out, I’ll consider it."

Then back in your seat for the second period, the mood was giddy. Auston almost picked up another assist after winning a puck battle behind the net and feeding it to Marner. Knies followed it up in the third with a beautiful solo goal that had the entire bench on their feet.

The Leafs won 3–0.

"God, I love this team," Stephanie sighed as the final buzzer rang out.

“You love that Auston keeps racking up points while our new friend wears his jersey,” Tessa teased, nudging your arm with a playful smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but the laugh escaped anyway—light, warm, real. There was something about tonight that felt easier than it should’ve. No spiralling. No overanalysing. Just… being. Present. Caught in a moment that felt strangely like belonging.

The girls were already planning post-game drinks and a weekend spa trip.

"You should come," Tessa said, nudging you with her knee.

The chatter in the suite swirled around you, full of champagne giggles and the buzz of victory. Someone had already cracked open a second bottle, and Stephanie was busy Googling spa menus.

“We’re thinking Saturday,” she said, flipping her phone around to show you a pastel-coloured website with lotus flowers and words like tranquillity and aromatherapy. “Girls only. No sticks and no pucks.”

You hesitated for half a beat, your instinct ready to decline before your brain caught up.

“Should I even be invited to that?”

Tessa scoffed. “Babe, you’re Auston’s girl here. You’re basically in the group chat now.”

“There’s a group chat?” you blinked.

Stephanie raised her glass in a mock-toast. “There is. And you’re in. Cucumber water, mud masks, robes, and extremely unfiltered gossip.”

You opened your mouth, still unsure.

But then you thought about the tension in your shoulders lately. The swirl of uncertainty. Auston’s hand on your thigh under the dinner table. The way he said your name like it had teeth. The way he made you feel like more than just a player in some fake game.

Maybe you needed this. Not for him—but for you.

“O- okay,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Yeah, I’m in.”

Tessa cheered. Stephanie beamed. Someone passed you a fresh glass of prosecco.

You leaned back into the plush stadium chair and let yourself enjoy it—the win, the warmth, the invitation to just exist among women who got it. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed this kind of comfort. Easy company. No expectations.

And just moments after the final horn had blown and the crowd erupted, you then followed the girls down the hallway, hearts still racing from the game. Laughter bounced off the walls as you weaved past security and staff, heading toward the player hallway to greet the team. It was tradition. Casual and familiar.

You were still laughing when you suddenly saw his shadow.

Not Auston’s.

Ryan.

He was leaning casually against the wall outside the player’s lounge, dress shirt pressed, and a badge clipped to his belt. His eyes swept the corridor, and then they landed on you.

And just like that, the ease you’d been floating in all night vanished.

Jess’s message echoed in your head.

You tried to look away. But then he started walking toward you.

_

“Let’s talk about jerseys.

Because while Auston Matthews dominated the scoreboard tonight—one goal, one assist, and more control than a Bond villain—the real headline was who was wearing his number in the stands.

Our Queen didn’t just show up. She arrived.

Laughing with the WAGs, sipping prosecco, and playing with the Tavares kids like she belonged there all along. And that jersey? It fit her like a crown—bold, casual, intimate. Like it meant something. Maybe it does.

Matthews looked up more than once. Don’t think we didn’t notice.

And while the WAGs have welcomed her into the inner circle, we can’t help but ask: Is she there for him… or finally there for herself?

The Queen is moving freely across the board now. Laughing. Glowing. Choosing.

And with whispers of a certain someone from her past lurking in the wings, we have only one question left: What happens when the game off the ice turns personal? - The Benchwarmer”

_

“Hey,” Ryan said soft and confident, standing upright and sliding his hands into his pockets like he’d just bumped into you by accident. “Was hoping to see you here tonight.”

You blinked. “Ryan. I… didn’t know you were allowed down here.”

He held up his badge with a shrug. “I wasn’t at first. But my firm’s hosting a few clients in a suite. I saw the final buzzer, figured I’d check out the backstage energy.”

You forced a polite smile. “Well… hope you enjoyed the game.”

“I did. And you?” His eyes flicked to the jersey you were wearing—Auston’s name sprawled across your back in bold white letters. His smirk didn’t falter. “Looks like you’re enjoying it too.”

Your pulse skipped. “It was a great night for the team.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice dipping just slightly. “Listen… I know this might be a bit out of the blue, but do you wanna grab a drink or something? Just us? Catch up, you know?”

You hesitated for a moment. “Ryan, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But then he slowly stepped in closer—only by a fraction, but it was enough. “C’mon, just one drink. Unless… you’re afraid your hockey star might get jealous?”

And that’s when it shifted.

The energy. The air. The invisible crackle of something electric behind you.

Because Auston had arrived.

You didn’t see him at first—you just felt him. The way the space around you changed, like it bowed slightly to his presence. And then his voice came, calm and cool but carrying an unmistakable edge.

“She said she’s not interested.”

Auston stepped up beside you, his hand resting gently but firmly against the small of your back. His body angled slightly forward—almost protective, grounded, a wall between you and whatever Ryan thought he was doing.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, eyes gleaming with challenge. “Wow. Straight to the defence. Guess that captain title really goes to your head.”

Auston didn’t flinch. “She said no.”

“I didn’t hear her say anything,” Ryan countered. “You always speak for her?”

Your mouth opened, but Auston beat you to it—his tone dipping even lower, dangerously quiet.

“She doesn’t need to say anything. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Ryan scoffed. “Uncomfortable? I was making conversation. She’s my friend you know.”

Auston took a step closer. “Well, maybe you should just back off then and keep it at friends.”

Ryan laughed, but there was no real humour in it. Just a sharp edge laced with something darker. “Back off? What, you think just ‘cause you’ve got a few goals and a fan club, you get to be her personal bouncer now? I’ve known her for way longer than you have.”

Auston didn’t blink. “Sure, you have. But you’re still making her uncomfortable. And you’re not listening.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. You could feel the heat radiating off Auston, his calm starting to fracture, piece by piece.

Ryan shifted, cocking his head toward you, voice sharpening. “You seriously want this guy?” He gestured to Auston with a sweeping motion, scoffing. “Some overpaid, half-baked jock who spends more time doing press than using his brain? Come on. You used to want more than that.”

“That’s enough,” you said, but your voice didn’t carry—not over the tension.

Auston’s jaw clenched, his hand twitching at his side.

And Ryan saw it. Smelled blood. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. You don’t like when people get too close, huh? When someone better can take things from you.”

Auston stepped forward. Close now. His voice low. Maybe even dangerous.

He noticed the people around him, around all three of you, starring but without inferring. Not yet at least.

“You’ve got three seconds to walk away.”

“Oh, I’m shaking,” Ryan drawled sarcastically, eyes narrowing. “Tell me, Matthews—what exactly do you think you are to her? A good fuck? A bank? Or are you just her rebound?”

You felt your breath catch—rage rising like wildfire in your throat. But Auston just exhaled through his nose, slow and measured.

“At least I’m the one she wants to kiss her,” he said evenly.

Ryan’s face twisted, something snapping. And then—

He shoved Auston. Not hard enough to drop him, but enough to send him a step back. Enough to cross a line.

“You don’t own her,” he spat, stepping forward again. “And if she had any sense left, she’d walk away from you.”

You instinctively moved between them, your hands pressing against Auston’s chest before he could react. His fist had already curled. His nostrils flared. He looked ready to swing.

“Please, just stop,” you said almost nervously.

Ryan laughed again, but it sounded bitter this time. “You really want to waste your time on a guy who can barely string two thoughts together unless it’s in front of a camera?”

You turned to him, voice suddenly steely. “Hey, he’s got more heart and more brains than you’ll ever have, Ryan. So maybe get out before you embarrass yourself further.”

Ryan’s mouth opened, maybe to snap back, maybe to apologise—but he didn’t get the chance.

“Yeah, get out buddy. She’s too good for you anyway.”

Auston didn’t move. But Ryan did. And with no warning, no build-up, he just swung. His fist connecting with Auston’s nose in a sickening thud.

A gasp tore from your throat. Auston staggered back a step, grabbing at his face, blood blooming beneath his nose instantly. Somewhere behind you, a door burst open. Shouts erupted. Two security guards and a teammate you couldn’t quite place rushed in.

Everything was chaos.

“Get him out!” someone barked.

Ryan didn’t resist. Just held up his hands, face tight with anger and pride as the guards ushered him back down the hallway.

You turned, immediately at Auston’s side. “Jesus fuck—Auston, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just touched under his nose and winced, blood smeared across his knuckles. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

You looked at him—really looked—and felt your chest squeeze.

Because this wasn’t just about a punch. It was about everything. The pressure. The feelings. And the way it all suddenly felt impossible to ignore.

The corridor outside the treatment room still buzzed with the echoes of shouting, the weight of everything that had just happened hanging in the air like smoke. You could still feel it on your skin—the electric sting of adrenaline, the heat of Auston’s presence, the sound of your voice cracking through the chaos when you told Ryan to back off.

Now, that moment felt far away.

Inside the room, the fluorescent lights hummed low and steady. Auston sat on the edge of the treatment table, jersey peeled halfway down his torso, the blue and white fabric bunched around his waist. His white undershirt was streaked with a faint smear of blood near the collar. His head tilted back slightly, eyes half-lidded beneath furrowed brows, while the trainer dabbed carefully beneath his nose with a sterile cloth.

He looked calm. Too calm. Like someone who’d learned to bottle his rage and store it behind a locked jaw and unreadable stare.

You hovered just inside the door, hands clenched around the strap of your bag, your fingers sore from the way you’d gripped it during the fight. You weren’t sure what to say. Or do. Or feel.

The nurse glanced your way with a warm, knowing smile. “Just a light break,” she said softly, lowering the gauze and checking the bridge of Auston’s nose with gentle pressure. “Nothing that won’t heal. He’ll be fine.”

You nodded, offering a tight smile in return. But Auston still hadn’t looked at you. Not really. His gaze stayed pinned to a scuff on the wall opposite, jaw locked so tightly you could see the flicker of tension running along his cheekbone.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The urge to say something clawed at your throat, but it came out softer than expected.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

That got his attention.

His eyes flicked to yours instantly—sharp and sudden, like a match struck in the dark. “Don’t be.”

“Ryan was out of line. I should’ve—”

“You did exactly what you should’ve.” His voice was firm, low, laced with something you couldn’t quite name—pride, maybe, or disbelief. He shook his head slowly, exhaling as the nurse stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

You stepped closer, inch by inch, until you were just a breath away. The tension in your shoulders released just slightly.

“Always,” you whispered. “He shouldn’t have said those things… it wasn’t fair to you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was alive—full of something simmering just beneath the surface, the kind of stillness that comes right before a storm. You could feel the pulse in your throat, in your wrists, in your core. Your heartbeat was so loud you wondered if he could hear it.

He was still watching you.

His eyes dropped—once, slowly—scanning the jersey hanging off your frame. His name stretched across your back. The sleeves bunched just above your elbows. You hadn’t changed after the game. You hadn’t wanted to.

Auston swallowed. Hard.

“You look…” He shook his head once, like the thought itself knocked something loose. “You look fucking beautiful tonight.”

You smiled, soft and unsure, but he didn’t.

His expression had shifted—something darker, needier curling in his eyes. Like the sight of you, in that jersey, defending him, coming to find him after the chaos—that had done something to him. Unlocked something he’d kept tucked away beneath captain’s speeches and stoic locker room interviews.

And when he finally stood—slowly, deliberately—closing the distance between you, you didn’t step back. Didn’t flinch. Just lifted your chin a fraction, lips parting in anticipation.

His hands found your jaw. Yours found the edge of his shirt.

And then he kissed you.

Not gently. Not cautiously.

Hungrily. Desperately.

You barely registered your bag slipping from your shoulder and hitting the floor with a soft thud. Auston’s hands were everywhere—cupping your jaw, sliding down the curve of your waist, gripping the hem of the jersey like he needed to prove to himself you were real and here and his.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “Watching you out there… looking like that… standing up for me like that? You… drive me so fucking crazy.”

You blinked, breath catching in your throat.

“Every time you opened your mouth tonight, I wanted to kiss you,” he added, voice raspier now. “Every time you smiled, I wanted to take you somewhere no one else could see.”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t have to.

Because the look in his eyes had already told you everything.

Like the only thing that mattered now was reminding you—and himself—that whatever this was? It was already too far gone to pull back from.

The kiss grew sharper—tongues clashing, teeth catching, breaths mingling with increasing urgency.

You gasped when his hands gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you in one swift motion, setting you down on the edge of the treatment table like you weighed nothing. And then his hands were under your jersey—warm and possessive—and the rest of the world blurred out.

“Fuck,” he breathed, lips brushing your neck, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your fingers found the base of his shirt and tugged, eager for skin. “Then don’t.”

He growled—actually growled—against your collarbone, and the sound hit you low in your belly. One of his hands slid behind your back, pulling you flush against him while the other pushed between your thighs, parting them with just enough force to make you gasp.

“Already wet for me?” he muttered, mouth trailing up to your ear. “Or is this all new?”

You let out a shaky laugh that turned into a moan when his fingers pressed right where you were pulsing for him, just over the fabric of your jeans. “Can’t promise I’ll stay quiet.”

His mouth curved against your jaw. “Don’t even care.”

You kissed him again, this time harder—messy and desperate—and your hands moved on instinct. You reached for the waistband of his joggers, tugging just enough to feel the firmness beneath, already growing. Auston hissed through his teeth, gripping your hips tighter.

“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead resting against yours as he slipped his fingers past the button of your jeans, sliding down until he found your core—hot, slick, and already twitching for more.

Your breath caught. “Auston—”

He swallowed your name with another kiss, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. You arched against him, biting your lip to stay quiet. His thumb caught your clit just right and your hips jerked in response.

“Just like that,” he murmured. “You’re so perfect like this.”

Your hand had slipped inside his waistband too, curling around the length of him—hard, heavy, already leaking against your palm. He bucked into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a split second before opening again, dark and hungry.

“Need to feel you,” he muttered. “Need to be inside you.”

You nodded—because yes, god, yes—and he didn’t wait for anything else. He pushed your jeans down, just enough, tugging your underwear with them. You kicked them off one leg while he shoved his joggers and briefs down just enough to free himself, and then—

He spread your legs open, lined his tip with your entrance before he slid into you in one smooth, needy thrust, burying himself deep. Both of you exhaled sharp, broken sounds against each other’s skin.

You clung to him. He gripped your hips. And the treatment table creaked faintly beneath you as the rhythm built—quick, quiet, frantic.

Auston bit your shoulder to muffle a groan. You tangled your fingers in his hair to stay grounded.

It wasn’t romantic.

It wasn’t careful.

But it was real. Messy. Breathless.

Auston was buried deep inside you, one hand gripping your hip like it anchored him to reality, the other braced against the table to keep you steady. The sting of the vinyl beneath your thighs, the bite of his teeth against your collarbone, the press of his body—every inch of it was too much and somehow not enough.

Your forehead was pressed to his shoulder, your fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt as your bodies moved in sync—quick, desperate thrusts muffled by the rhythm of your panting breaths and the faint creak of the treatment table beneath you. It was frantic and overwhelming, and so, so fucking good.

And then—

“Hey Tony. You okay in there?” a voice called out from the hallway, muffled through the door but close enough to rip you both out of the moment.

You froze like you’d been struck by lightning.

Auston stiffened instantly, his hand shooting up to gently cover your mouth. You could feel his heart pounding through his chest as he leaned in toward the door, breath ragged.

“Yeah…” he called back, voice cracking slightly before he forced it deeper. “Just—uh—cleaning up. Give me a sec.”

Silence.

You held your breath until the faint sound of footsteps retreated down the hall. And then—

“Fuck,” Auston muttered under his breath, a wicked grin twitching at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you, flushed and wide-eyed.

“Sorry,” you whispered behind his palm.

“Don’t be,” he growled. “We’re not done.”

He didn’t wait for permission. He never needed to—not when your body was already giving him every answer.

He started to move again, slow at first, like testing the water. But it didn’t take long for the urgency to return—like the interruption had only made him hungrier. You bit down on your lip to keep from gasping, your moans coming out as desperate little whimpers against his shoulder.

“Gotta stay quiet,” he murmured, voice thick and hoarse, “but you’re making it real fucking hard.”

His hand then slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit like they’d been magnetised. He circled it with a precision that made you bite back a cry, your whole body tensing against him.

Auston groaned low in his throat. “There she is.”

You squeezed his bicep, your thighs trembling. “Please…”

“Shhh,” he whispered, breath hot against your neck. “I’ve got you.”

And he did.

God, he did.

And when you came, biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep from crying out his name, Auston wasn’t far behind—his hips stuttering, arms shaking, face buried against your neck.

For a moment, you both just stayed there—still tangled, still pulsing in the quiet aftermath.

Your jeans were around one ankle, his shorts half-hitched, your jersey clinging to your back with sweat. Clothes wrinkled, bodies flushed, breathing still uneven.

You leaned back on your hands, heart thudding against your ribcage like it hadn’t quite caught up. Auston stood between your legs, head bent slightly as he pressed one last kiss to your collarbone, his hands smoothing over your thighs.

“We should really stop having sex in public places,” you said finally, your voice hoarse and half-laughing, like you didn’t quite believe the words yourself.

Auston chuckled, low and spent, his forehead brushing yours. “Probably.”

Then he pulled back just enough to flash that boyish grin—the one that made him look far too innocent for what he’d just done. “But I’m not even a little sorry.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as your body slowly came back to you.

“Neither am I.”

He helped you off the table gently, fixing your jersey and brushing a hand through your hair. You reached for his shirt to straighten it. Somewhere in the distance, skates clicked across concrete and doors slammed. The world was waiting.

_

“Dearest Toronto reader,

did you feel that? The ice cracked tonight—and not just under skates.

Our Ice King racked up points like it was personal (and maybe it was). Knies continued his adorable domination with the kind of energy that makes entire sections swoon. Meanwhile, Rielly played like a man with a mortgage and something to prove, and Willy Styles? Let’s just say his downtown café companion wasn’t the only brunette raising eyebrows this week.

But even a solid 3–0 win couldn’t steal the spotlight from the real show backstage.

A certain ex tried to re-enter the chat, badge and all. But here’s the twist: it wasn’t Auston who drew first blood—it was her. The Queen. The one wearing his number. The one who didn’t flinch when voices rose and fists flew. She didn’t need saving. She didn’t wait to be claimed. She stood tall. Chose her position. And made it very clear whose side she was on.

And if you thought that was the end? Think again. Word is, a treatment room bore witness to more than bruises tonight. Let’s just say there was passion. There was heat. There was a jersey half off and a door barely locked.

So yes—this game is getting messier. Hotter. More dangerous. And it’s the Queen who’s holding court now.

She’s not moving to check the King. She’s moving for herself. And if that shakes the board?

Let it fall.

Yours always.

The Benchwarmer”

[hockeybabe]

Don’t Chirp My Girl | M. Knies

Pairings: Matthew Knies x gf!reader

Summary: Pastrnak say some not so great things about you to your boyfriend and your boyfriend isn’t having it.

Warnings: pastrnaks a dick, protective Knies, swearing, pure fluff, making out in a car, illusion to smut

Word count: 879

Note: saw this and was like yes sir 🫡

Out of all the people for Pastnak to go after he had chosen your boyfriend. The two of you had been dating for almost two years and you decided, as this being Matthew’s first full season, you’d go to as many games as you could. 

When they got into the playoffs, you made it your mission to be at every game. You were born and raised a hockey fan, knowing every single thing from wrongs to rights. And for the past two games, the leafs weren’t doing what they normally did. Auston wasn’t playing tonight, which meant Matthew would have more ice time.

That made you truly happy knowing you’d see your boyfriend more on the ice. As of now, it was the third period, and the game was still tied at 1-1. Things in the playoffs were another level. They were more intense, and the players weren’t having it with each other.

From the glass seat you were at, you could see Pastrnak staring right back at you with a creepy look on his face. The whistle blew and before you knew it; they were playing. Your thumbs twiddled with each other as you watched the two teams battle it out. 

Swayman was able to stop the puck before it reached the net, allowing the refs to stop play and just like always, Boston and Toronto were going at it. However, this time it was your boyfriend and Pastrnak. Pastrnak was pointing over at you while saying something, making Matthew lose his shit. 

You could barely make out the words Matthew was saying, but you could see him push Pastrnak before saying, “that’s what I thought.” You shivered slightly at the look on your boyfriend’s face as the game continued. He’d never looked so angry at someone’s words. 

It was common for chirping to go around in hockey, it what caused fights. But it was also wasn’t uncommon for rookies to have their loved one's being called out. 

As the game made its way to over time you sat at the edge of your seat watching as John skated fast to Swayman, attempting a shot, but it slid past him and two players, leaving the puck all by itself and an open net. You watched Matthew skate up to it, flicking the puck into the net, and the sirens blazed. 

You shot out of your seat banging on the glass and give high-fives to the little leaf fans around you as the Boston ones flipped you off and said random shit, making a smug smirk grace your lips. You had followed Steph through the crowd as you both made your way to the team's tunnel. 

You watched as Matthew came out of the change room first with a smug look. He was happy, but in his eyes he was clearly annoyed. You sigh knowing that it’d be a long drive home. He had greeted all the partners before parting ways with his team. “He’ll get over it.” Max said to you before you followed him to the parking lot. 

“So,” you started. “You gonna tell me what happened?” You asked, getting into the passenger seat. Matthew only bothered to give you a grunt as he continued to drive to the apartment. “Jesus Matthew! Are you really not gonna say shit?” You cried out as his silence drove you crazy.

Matthew’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as his knuckles turned white. You couldn’t lie, the sight turned you on, but he was mad and with mad came silence and built up emotion. “Matt, pull over.” You told him, sternly. Matthew looked over at you before pulling off to the side of the road. 

You unbuckled your seat belt, climbed over the console and sat yourself in Matt’s lap, your back resting on the wheel. You took Matt’s face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “What’d he say?” You ask again. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He grumbled. “So what, you’ll bubble this anger up till Thursday and then what? Take it out on the guy! It’s fucking hockey, baby! Shit happens.” You cried out, hoping to get your words through his thick skull. 

“He said you’d leave me for someone better in the end.” He mumbled, making your heart stop. “I pushed him and told his to not start and he thought wrong for trying me.” He said, snuggling his head into your neck and placing a kiss on your collarbone. “Well, who the hell would be someone better?” You asked, making his head perk up. 

“Cause I’ve got the best guy I’ve met in a while. And he makes my fucking world.” You said with a big smile, making him smirk. “Oh, really.” He whispered, pulling you closer. You were pulled up into his bulge, making you whimper, shutting your eyes slowly. “Yeah, he’s got this goofy, uh, smile and he, um, he wears the number 23.” You breath out as he placed wet kisses on your neck.

“The number he’s going to ruin me in.” You moan. Pressing your lips onto his. His hands ran up your back, pulling you closer than possible. Your lips meshed as his tongue explored your mouth. “Get in the back.” He said in a husky voice.