#jess darling💕

[headfullofpresley]

tam! i feel like i should pop in here to say something deep or meaningful to you and the moment i thought that, my brain went: no thoughts head empty, *screams* I LOVE ELVIIIIIIIIIS 😍, so that's simply not helpful! like i said, little!me seeing his smile in a photograph: he looks sweet and i want to keep him. she was so right.

i feel so grateful that he still exists as powerfully as he does, that we can feel uplifted and moved hearing his music, that we have the chance to discover him and all his complexities and sensitivity and beauty and soul. that we don't look to hold his flaws against him, but rather be proud of how he tried and the capacity he had for strength and dreams and good. it does feel like he's close by and could just reach out and hold our hands for a minute. i keep thinking of you saying, "there's so much of him in my heart." what an extraordinary thing to feel about someone, that we carry him in such a present way in our hearts. how much that adds his warmth and kindness to the world when we keep on loving him, how he shines with us. it's a power that some people will never understand, but *we* do, that's what matters. (even if he'd laugh at our double trouble, and we'd talk and listen and dote on him until he got sick of us 😌❤). i feel like he's blessed and given so much to me, and how lucky i am that i get to share that with friends on here. it's that idea that he's never really been gone at all - how could he be, when he's still with us? that's what's worth remembering and holding onto, and i know you understand. i love him and you and my other el darlings and everyone who knows that 💕💕💕

i'm sitting here with chills girl and you exactly why. 🥺💗

also, I LOVE ELVIIIIIIS is a very accurate message that needs to be spread as well. all day, every day, baby!

i am so grateful as well. grateful for meeting you and grateful for elvis and his energy still being around us and in our hearts. and it's true- my heart is so full of him and it always will be. he is everything and he is everywhere.

i can't imagine my life without him in it because he's always been there and that's such a comforting thought and it makes me love him more and more every day- if that's even possible.

i find it hard to put the way i feel about him into words sometimes because it's such a deep and overwhelming love and connection, but the word that comes to mind right now is: forever.

elvis is forever going to be in our lives and hearts. not until the day we take our last breath, but forever, because after that it will still be there. that unconditional love and respect.

i'm on the verge of rambling but i love him so and i love YOU so, my jess darling. 💗

[vhagar-balerion-meraxes]

send this star to your favorite accounts to show that you love them! time to spread the love! ⭐️

Love you so much 🥰🥰 (You can have gifs of both your boyfriends ♥️)

[misshoneyimhome]

What's up buttercups! 💕

Chapter three is here, and things are starting to take shape! I know, we’re still keeping a steady pace, but trust me—good things take time (at least that’s what I keep telling myself while writing this f-ing slow burn…🙈).

As always, I hope you enjoy it. Happy reading, darlings! 😊✨

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, smut 18+, Auston x unknown female character, protected vaginal penetration

Word count: 6.8k Chapter one ; Chapter two

➼｡ﾟ

Chapter Three: Pucks, Plans, and Pretences*

::

“Dearest Toronto readers, it seems our Ice King has traded his signature cool for something decidedly warmer. A newly surfaced photo from the depths of the Scotiabank Arena has set the internet alight, capturing Auston Matthews and his now-infamous Mystery Queen in a moment that could rival any story.

The city can’t stop talking.

But what’s the real story? Is this the beginning of something genuine or a strategic distraction for Toronto’s captain? Matthews, ever the enigma, isn’t saying much—but that smirk of his has done little to quell the rumours.

As for his Mystery Queen, she’s still just that—a mystery. Ambitious, poised, and undeniably captivating, she’s become the city’s obsession overnight.

Whether this is love, strategy, or something in between, Toronto is hooked. And with Matthews at the helm of this unfolding drama, one thing is certain: it’s going to be a season to remember.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

_

Tuesday –

Sitting by the high table in the compact kitchen of your small studio flat, you traced the rim of your coffee mug absentmindedly. The faint hum of the city outside was a comforting white noise, a familiar backdrop to your mornings. But the fragile peace didn’t last long.

Your phone buzzed sharply, shattering the moment. You groaned, setting down your mug to glance at the screen. Of course, it was Jess and Maya. The two of them had wasted no time diving into what was clearly the hot topic of the day.

Jess (7:13 AM): “Spotted: You and Auston. AGAIN. Girl, explain.”

Maya (7:15 AM): “We need a FULL breakdown. Coffee tonight. No excuses!”

You sighed, gripping the warm mug a little tighter as you composed a response. Your fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating.

You (7:18 AM): “There’s really nothing to explain.”

The reply came almost instantly.

Maya (7:19 AM): “Oh, please. You’re trending AGAIN. #MysteryQueen is still going strong. Spill.”

Jess (7:20 AM): “You can’t brush this off. Coffee tonight after work, our usual spot. Don’t make me come to your place.”

You let out a soft laugh despite the tension knotting in your chest. Jess and Maya were relentless, but their concern came from a good place. They were your best friends—your constants in a world that felt increasingly chaotic.

Still, the guilt nagged at you. They were cheering for you, defending you, believing you were swept up in some whirlwind romance. And here you were, dodging their excitement with half-truths and carefully constructed vagueness.

You (7:22 AM): “Fine. Coffee tonight. But it’s really not as exciting as you think, ladies.”

Jess (7:23 AM): “We’ll be the judges of that.”

Maya (7:24 AM): “Don’t forget the juicy details. We need to know EVERYTHING.”

You set your phone down with a heavy sigh, your appetite fading as stress settled over you like an unwelcome houseguest. It wasn’t just the messages. It was the weight of everything that had piled up over the past few days.

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, watching the liquid swirl. The events of the gala played on a loop in your mind, every moment amplified now that the media had latched onto you. And then there was Auston.

Had you really agreed to fake-date Auston Matthews, the Ice King himself? The words “Let’s do it” echoed in your mind, making you wince. What had possessed you?

You knew the answer: desperation.

Auston’s reasons were crystal clear. He wanted control over the narrative. He needed a way to silence the incessant speculation about his personal life. His pitch had been logical, almost clinical. And you, standing at the crossroads of your career, had agreed.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. If his biggest problem is dodging rumours about his love life, he’s got it easy.

Your problems felt heavier. Tangible. Your boss’s voice rang in your ears, his warnings cutting through your thoughts: “No distractions. No drama. No more headlines.” The gala had already pushed you to the edge of his patience. And now? Now you were willingly diving into a situation that could unravel everything you’d worked for.

But wasn’t this what you wanted? A chance to make your mark, to prove you weren’t just another cog in the machine? Maybe this was the universe’s way of throwing you a lifeline—wrapped in chaos, sure, but a lifeline, nonetheless.

Or maybe you were just grasping at straws.

You sighed, pushing your barely touched breakfast aside. The decision had been made. There was no turning back now. Auston had given you an option, and you’d taken it.

Your to-do list for the day felt overwhelming. Face your boss. Navigate the fallout. And later, coffee with Jess and Maya. They’d want answers—real ones, not the half-hearted deflections you’d been giving them.

You weren’t sure how much you could—or should—tell them. But one thing was certain: you needed to pull yourself together. Time was ticking, and the last thing you could afford was to let it all spiral out of control.

_

Auston Matthews awoke with nothing but a grin on his face. The kind of grin that wasn’t about a win or a goal, but about the sheer satisfaction of knowing he’d set the board perfectly for the game ahead. Sunlight filtered through his bedroom window, casting warm, golden rays across the room. Felix, his Australien Bernedoodle, was already wagging his tail eagerly, sensing that his human was in a particularly good mood.

“Alright, Snuff” Auston muttered, stretching as he reached for the dog’s leash. “Let’s go.”

The grin stayed fixed on his face as he walked Felix through the quiet morning streets of Toronto, hidden just slightly under the brim of his cap. The rhythm of his steps matched the upbeat hum in his chest. Felix trotted ahead, pausing every so often to sniff a tree or a fire hydrant. Auston’s thoughts, however, were far from their usual pre-game routine.

You’d said yes. The moment replayed in his mind, not because he doubted it had happened, but because of the satisfying sense of control it gave him. You had agreed to his plan. Fake dating. It was genius, really. It ticked every box: no questions about his personal life, no endless media speculation about who he was seeing, and the cherry on top—it made him unavailable. Off the market. And if anything, it made him even more unattainable.

Felix barked once, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Alright, alright,” Auston chuckled, tugging the leash gently to keep his dog moving. “Don’t get too excited.”

Back at home, Felix flopped onto his dog bed with a satisfied huff while Auston grabbed his duffel bag and packed for the day. The grin still hadn’t faded. Tonight was a game night, and he had an away trip to Columbus. Normally, his thoughts would already be on the ice, visualising plays, but today his mind kept drifting back to you and the whirlwind of events from the past few days.

Auston wasn’t an idiot. He knew how the media worked. They’d dissect every glance, every move, every word exchanged between the two of you. That was the world he lived in—a world of scrutiny, where even his most mundane actions were twisted into headlines. And yet, for once, he didn’t mind. You weren’t like the others who had flitted through his orbit.

Most women in this position would’ve jumped at the chance to bask in the glow of his fame. But you? You seemed determined to avoid it entirely, almost as if the spotlight burned too bright for your liking. That was refreshing. It intrigued him. And maybe—just maybe—it was part of why this plan felt so right.

He paused mid-pack, considering for a moment if he should bring his PR manager into the loop. Ultimately, he decided against it. The man hadn’t even batted an eye at the first photo. For someone like Auston, these kinds of headlines were par for the course. A fake relationship wouldn’t even register as a blip on his radar. And besides, Auston didn’t want anyone meddling. This was his game, and he intended to play it his way.

His teammates? They didn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway. They’d complicate things with relentless teasing, and Auston wasn’t in the mood to deal with Mitch Marner’s inevitable barrage of questions. And his family? Absolutely not. All they needed to know was that he wasn’t available. End of story.

The airport was bustling with the usual pre-travel chaos. Players joked and jostled each other, tossing bags into overhead bins and making playful bets about who would score the first goal of the night. Auston moved through the commotion with his usual calm, but the grin remained—a subtle, smug reminder to himself that he had everything under control.

“Yo, Tony!” Mitch’s voice rang out as he flopped into the seat beside Auston. “What’s with the face? You win the lottery or something?”

Auston smirked, adjusting his noise-cancelling headphones. “Something like that.”

Mitch squinted at him suspiciously. “This have anything to do with the latest post? You know, the one that’s got X losing its mind?”

“Don’t start, Marner,” Auston replied, his voice even but amused.

“Oh, I’m starting,” Mitch said, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. “Come on, man. Spill. Who is she? I mean we know what she works with, but… She’s not another one of those random girls you keep fucking, is she?”

Auston sighed, pulling one side of his headphones down. “She’s just someone I’m getting to know. Relax.”

“Someone you’re getting to know?” Mitch echoed, his grin widening. “That’s all we get? Not even a compliment about her ass?”

“Drop it,” Auston said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

Across the aisle, William piped up. “If she’s just someone you’re getting to know, why’s she all over your social media? You’re usually better at keeping things under wraps.”

Auston shrugged, playing it cool. “She’s not all over my social media. That’s the media doing what they do.”

But Mitch wasn’t about to let it go. “You don’t talk about the other girls, but you’re dodging questions about her? That’s new.”

Auston shot him a look. “Maybe because it’s none of your business, Mitchy.”

The banter continued as the plane took off, Mitch throwing playful jabs from across the aisle and William chiming in with his usual teasing smirk. Auston brushed it off with ease, keeping his replies curt and nonchalant. But their questions lingered in his mind, nagging at the edges of his thoughts like a loose thread.

If his teammates were already this curious, what would happen when the media started digging deeper? And they would dig deeper. It wasn’t a matter of if but when. They’d dissect every detail, every inconsistency, every crack in the story. That’s when it hit him—he didn’t know enough about you. Not the kind of things that would make a fabricated relationship believable, at least.

Your favourite coffee order. Your go-to excuse for leaving a party early. The kind of music you liked to blast when no one else was around.

He needed to know something—anything—that could make this story feel authentic. His teammates might have been satisfied with the vague details he’d given them for now, but they nor the media wouldn’t let it slide. This had to look real. And for it to look real, he had to be able to talk about you like he’d known you for longer than a fleeting gala moment.

Auston leaned back in his seat, letting out a small breath. The team’s chatter faded into the background as he turned his focus inward. He’d have to talk to you, but it couldn’t feel forced. It had to be casual, natural. Just enough to set things straight and make sure the narrative stayed intact.

Satisfied with the plan forming in his mind, Auston allowed himself to relax, the familiar hum of the plane’s engines lulling him into a moment of calm. He adjusted his noise-cancelling headphones and gazed out the window as the city faded into the distance. The grin he’d worn all morning crept back onto his face, a mixture of confidence and anticipation.

This was going to work. It had to.

You might not realise it yet, but Auston Matthews had chosen you for a reason. You weren’t just a pawn in his game. You were the perfect partner in crime for the plan he was about to execute.

_

As you walked into the office, you held your chin high, shoulders back, just like Jess always encouraged during your frantic late-night phone calls. Her voice still echoed in your head: “Own it. Whatever you do, don’t let them see you sweat.” Easier said than done.

Your heels clicked against the polished floor with a rhythm that you hoped exuded confidence. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the charade pressing against your chest. The office buzzed with its usual energy—keyboards clacking, phones ringing, snippets of conversations floating through the air. But today, the atmosphere seemed to hum with something sharper, something just shy of gossip. Again, you didn’t have to hear the whispers to know they were about you.

You felt their eyes on you as you passed, a few heads turning slightly as you walked by. It was subtle—an extra glance, a barely concealed smirk, a phone quickly tucked away as if you’d interrupted someone mid-scroll through the latest viral photos. You’d expected this, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Your phone vibrated in your bag, but you ignored it. No doubt Jess or Maya was checking in to remind you of your coffee date later. Or worse, your boss with a sharp-edged “we need to talk.” Neither option felt appealing.

By the time you reached your desk, the tension in your chest had settled into a dull ache. You sat down, carefully placing your bag at your feet, and took a steadying breath. The screen of your laptop glowed to life as you opened it, the familiar sight of your inbox providing a small sense of normalcy.

But even as you sifted through emails, your thoughts kept circling back to the lie you were living. You felt bad for keeping Jess and Maya in the dark. They were your best friends, your ride-or-die crew, the people who’d been there for you through every triumph and heartbreak. But you couldn’t risk telling them the truth.

What would happen if anyone found out? The question lingered in your mind like a persistent shadow. Even the smallest crack in the story you and Auston would be concocting could lead to an avalanche. If word got back to your boss that this wasn’t just an accidental photo op but a deliberate ruse? You didn’t even want to imagine the fallout.

So, you kept your cards close to your chest, smiling politely when a co-worker passed by, nodding along to the faint hum of office chatter. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jess and Maya—it was that you didn't want to burden them with this. The stakes were too high. Or maybe, just maybe, you felt a bit embarrassed about having agreed to it? 

For now, your best move was to stick to the plan: keep your head down, stay professional, and pray the whirlwind around you would eventually settle.

But as the day stretched on and the whispers persisted, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope with no safety net.

During the workday, you did your best to stay under the radar, skirting through the office with a practiced air of nonchalance. Your strategy was simple: avoid your boss at all costs. Fortunately, his schedule was jam-packed with back-to-back meetings, giving you a much-needed buffer.

Still, you weren’t entirely off the hook. You’d barely rounded the corner when he appeared, laptop in hand, his expression sharp and unreadable.

“Y/N,” he called out, his tone clipped.

Your stomach flipped, but you kept your face neutral. “Good day, Mr. Manion.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yes, well. Care to explain why half the office is suddenly fixated on some hockey romance conspiracy theories? Or why your face seems to be at the centre of it, again?”

You swallowed hard, scrambling for a response that sounded calm and collected. “Just media being media,” you said lightly, forcing a small shrug. “They’re spinning something out of nothing. It’ll die down soon enough.”

Manion stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to dissect the truth. “It better. We’ll discuss this later. My office, tomorrow morning. Or… when I have time for this mess.”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you with the sinking feeling that you’d just delayed the inevitable.

The rest of the day dragged on in a blur of emails and half-hearted attempts at productivity. No matter how much you tried to focus, the looming conversation with your boss weighed heavily on your mind.

By the time the clock struck five, you were almost relieved to escape the office and head to the coffee shop where Jess and Maya were waiting.

The café was warm and bustling, the scent of freshly brewed espresso mingling with the faint sweetness of baked goods. Jess and Maya were already seated in the corner, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience as they spotted you walking in.

“Well, well,” Maya teased, her grin widening as you slid into the chair opposite her. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Jess smirked, crossing her arms. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, Y/N. Spill. Now.”

You sighed, wrapping your hands around the mug the barista had just placed in front of you. “Please, calm down. It’s not as exciting as you think. I promise.”

“Bullshit,” Jess said bluntly. “You’re trending. You don’t just get to brush this off.”

Maya leaned in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on. We’re your best friends. If you can’t tell us, who can you tell?”

There it was—the guilt. It crept into your chest like a cold weight, but you couldn’t let it show. You had to stick to the story.

“We met at the gala,” you began, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “He was… well, exactly how you’d expect. Arrogant, cocky, a total smartass.”

Jess arched a brow. “So, what? He just walked up to you and swept you off your feet?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Not exactly. I sort of… tripped, and he caught me. It was all very cliché.”

Maya gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “Like something out of a movie! I knew it!”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said quickly, laughing nervously. “He was just being polite. Honestly, I thought he’d forget about me the second I walked away.”

Jess tilted her head, her gaze sharp. “But he didn’t.”

You shook your head, taking a sip of your coffee to buy yourself a moment. “No, he didn’t. He’s been… persistent. But it’s not what you’re thinking. He’s not really my type.”

Maya’s jaw dropped. “Not your type? Are you serious? He’s Auston Matthews. Literal perfection.”

“Perfection isn’t exactly charming when it comes with an ego the size of the CN Tower,” you shot back, earning a laugh from Jess.

“Fair,” she said, smirking. “But don’t pretend you’re immune. Something about him must’ve worked if he’s got you responding.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just the media doing what it does best—blowing things out of proportion.”

Maya studied you for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

Jess leaned forward, her grin devilish. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” you protested, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

The conversation continued, a whirlwind of teasing and speculation, but you managed to hold your ground, weaving just enough truth into your story to keep them from digging deeper. By the time you left the café, your nerves were frayed, but at least you’d survived the first round of questions.

As you stepped into the cool night air, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that this was only the beginning.

_

The training rink in Columbus carried the usual buzz of pre-game preparation: the slap of pucks against the boards, the hum of skates carving into the ice, and the low murmur of coaches directing drills. But something about the energy felt off. Auston could sense it in the way passes missed by inches and shots rang off the crossbar instead of finding the back of the net.

The Leafs were coming off a high, but the weight of expectations clung to the team like an anchor. By the time practice wrapped up, the locker room was filled with subdued chatter, players trying to shake off the tension as they prepared for the night’s game.

Auston, ever the focal point, felt the weight more than most. Captaincy wasn’t just about leading on the ice—it was about carrying the team’s hopes and shielding them from criticism when things went sideways. And tonight, things went very sideways.

The game was a mess from start to finish. Columbus exploited every crack in the Leafs’ defence, while Toronto’s offense sputtered, unable to capitalise on power plays or momentum. Auston had his moments—a slick assist here, a near-miss there—but it wasn’t enough. By the time the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard told the story: a 4-1 loss.

Auston’s jaw tightened as he skated off the ice, his grip on his stick like a vice. The locker room was eerily quiet post-game, the usual camaraderie replaced with a heavy silence. Players peeled off their gear in near silence, a few murmuring frustrations under their breath. Auston exchanged a few words with the coaches, but the sting of defeat lingered long after he left the rink.

Back at the hotel, the air in Auston’s room felt heavy—thick with the weight of the night’s loss and the expectations that always seemed to grow louder in defeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, his duffel bag still untouched by the door, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

Down the hall, his teammates were decompressing in their own ways—some glued to their gaming consoles, others nursing quiet drinks in the lounge—but none of those options appealed to him. Auston’s frustration needed a different outlet.

Without much thought, he opened his DMs, the endless flood of messages a familiar distraction. His name was a magnet, his inbox teeming with invitations, compliments, and the occasional overly bold proposition. One message caught his eye—a familiar face from Columbus. They’d met on a previous trip, a fleeting encounter that left no lasting impression, which was exactly what he needed now.

Auston: “In town for the night. What’s up?”

Her: “Still waiting for you to call. Thought you forgot about me ;)”

Auston: “Never.”

The exchange was simple, transactional, and within the hour, she was knocking on his door.

Auston opened it, leaning casually against the frame. His expression was unreadable, save for the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. She smiled up at him, dressed to impress—or undress. As always, no pleasantries were exchanged; none were necessary. She stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her, sealing off the outside world.

It was exactly what Auston needed—a reprieve from the relentless noise in his head. She was eager, uncomplicated, and predictable, offering a distraction that required nothing from him emotionally. He let himself sink into the physicality of it, her hands trailing across his chest as she whispered something flirtatious. But her words barely registered. His thoughts were elsewhere.

They were on the ice, replaying the game in relentless detail: the missed chances, the failed plays, the sting of another loss. They drifted to the media frenzy surrounding his so-called “Mystery Queen” and the elaborate charade he was now orchestrating with you. No matter how much he tried to focus on the present, the weight of everything he was juggling refused to let go.

Still, he allowed her to take the lead, lying back as she straddled him with practiced confidence. The friction, the heat, the rhythm—it was enough to stoke his hardening member. She felt good, but it was a fleeting, surface-level pleasure. The connection was purely physical, and Auston was fine with that.

Her fingers dug into his chest, as she rode him expertly. Auston felt his climax slowly building, her tight cunt wrapped so neatly around his throbbing cock. He didn’t need more than this. Shutting his eyes he could imagine her to be anyone he’d like. His mind wandered as he heard himself let out a moan. She was good to him, picking up her pace as she too chased her own high. 

Her moans filled the room, crescendoing as she announced her climax with exaggerated fervour. Auston stayed silent, his body tense beneath her, waiting for the moment to pass. And when she slumped forward, her chest rising and falling against his, he decided to take control in order to reach the rush. 

Flipping her onto her back, he moved with renewed intensity, chasing his own release. His hips slammed against hers in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. His fingers clenched the sheets as he gave up holding back. He was merciless. Ruthless. Her cries of his name echoed in his ears, a mantra that boosted his ego but did little to penetrate the hollow space inside him.

And when his climax finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing through him with a force that left him momentarily breathless. His low, guttural grunt filled the air as he spilled into the condom, his movements slowing until they finally stopped.

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for their heavy breathing. She brushed her fingers through his hair, her touch lingering as though she hoped it might spark something deeper. But Auston rolled away, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The message was clear, though unspoken.

So, within minutes, she was dressed, smoothing her hair and offering a coy smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “See you around,” she said lightly, though they both knew she wouldn’t.

“Yeah,” Auston replied, his tone indifferent as he closed the door behind her. The lock clicked, and just like that, she was gone.

He sank back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the hollow feeling settled in—a familiar, unwelcome companion. The release had been satisfying enough, but it hadn’t erased the gnawing frustration or the pressure weighing on his shoulders. It never did.

His phone buzzed again, and he glanced at the screen. Notifications flooded in: highlights from the game, speculative articles dissecting the team’s loss, and the ever-present hashtag: #MysteryQueen.

A small, wry smirk tugged at his lips despite himself. The plan was working, and that was something. For all the chaos, for all the noise, the narrative was moving exactly as he’d intended. Now all he had to do was keep it that way.

He set his phone back on the nightstand and let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. Tomorrow, he’d regroup. Tomorrow, he’d strategise with you, fine-tune the story you were selling. For tonight, survival was enough.

As exhaustion finally crept in, Auston closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to you once more. You weren’t like the others—too smart, too grounded to fall for someone like him. That was part of the appeal, he realised. You weren’t here for him, not really. And maybe that made you the most intriguing person he’d met in a long time.

But that was a problem for another day. Tonight, all that mattered was that the noise had faded, if only for a moment.

_

“Oh, Toronto, isn’t it fascinating how our beloved Ice King chooses to thaw? While the Leafs are licking their wounds after a tough night in Columbus, it seems Auston Matthews is sticking to his tried-and-true method of post-game ‘recovery.’ Word on the street—or rather, whispers through the grapevine—suggests that our captain might not be as unavailable as the Mystery Queen narrative wants us to believe. Curious, isn’t it?

But here’s the thing, dear readers—there’s always more beneath the surface. Matthews might play the media like a maestro, but even the best orchestrations can hit a sour note. Will the cracks start to show? Or will our Ice King’s dual life—both on and off the rink—continue to skate by unscathed?

As for his Mystery Queen? One has to wonder how she fits into this symphony of appearances. Is she just another carefully placed pawn in Auston’s game, or is there something more stirring beneath the headlines?

For now, Toronto, we’re left with a tantalising mix of speculation and intrigue. The season is still young, and the drama is only just beginning. - The Benchwarmer”

_

Wednesday - 

Auston tried to enjoy the breakfast with his teammates. A hotel was a part of their routines, yet it never truly felt like home. His phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications, but one headline in particular caught his eye: “The Ice King’s Double Life? Drama Heats Up Around Toronto’s Star Captain and His #MysteryQueen.”

Auston clicked the link and was greeted by The Benchwarmer’s latest post. The commentary was sharp, hinting at cracks in his narrative and questioning whether the supposed romance with you was genuine—or just another fleeting distraction. The subtext was clear: his actions in Columbus hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He let out a groan, running a hand down his face. Reckless, Matthews. Really reckless. Sure, the plan with you was still in its infancy, but if this was going to work, it needed direction—intent. Otherwise, it would just look like every other shallow story he’d been a part of.

He needed to fix this. Fast.

Grabbing his phone, Auston scrolled to your contact—“PR Genius”—and fired off a quick text.

Auston: “Coffee today? We need to strategize.”

You: “Agreed. When and where?”

Auston: “3 PM. A café on Yonge. I’ll message the address later. Bring your game face.”

As the message was sent, Auston stared at the screen for a moment longer. This wasn’t just about keeping the media at bay—it was about keeping you on his side. If this plan unravelled, it would take both of you down with it.

_

A bit further North, your morning was no less chaotic than Auston’s. Jess, ever the early riser, was already on fire by the time your phone buzzed with the first notification.

Jess (7:15 AM): “HOW DARE HE???”

Maya (7:16 AM): “Is he seriously doing this to you? I’m ready to slash some tires.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as you groaned at their intensity. To them, it was a betrayal of epic proportions. To you, it was just another complication in the tangled web of your arrangement with Auston. But how could they know that? All they saw was a man seemingly toying with your feelings, and as your best friends, they were ready to go to war on your behalf.

You (7:18 AM): “Guys, relax. It’s not like we’re official or anything.”

Maya (7:19 AM): “Not official?! You’re trending as #MysteryQueen, Y/N! That’s practically a royal engagement!”

Jess (7:20 AM): “I swear, if he breaks your heart… bad things will happen!”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head at their over-the-top reactions. It was sweet how protective they were, but you couldn’t let them spiral into full-blown outrage.

You (7:22 AM): “Look, it’s still early. He can do whatever he wants—we haven’t even been on a real date yet.”

The group chat fell silent for a moment, long enough for you to think maybe they’d finally let it go. But Jess’s response proved otherwise.

Jess (7:30 AM): “Fine. But he better get his shit together, or I’m hunting him down.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, setting your phone down as you leaned back in your chair with a sigh. Jess and Maya were reacting the way anyone would if they thought their friend was being strung along. You couldn’t exactly blame them for jumping to conclusions—it wasn’t like they knew the truth.

Still, it left you with a heavy feeling you couldn’t quite shake. Sure, you weren’t dating Auston—not really. But even you couldn’t ignore how bad it looked. His actions might not have stung personally, but they made everything feel messier, more complicated. You were suddenly questioning whether this whole arrangement was as foolproof as he’d made it seem.

You stared into your half-empty coffee mug, the quiet of your kitchen contrasting sharply with the chaos in your head. By now, the plan you and Auston had agreed on felt more like a house of cards, ready to collapse at the slightest push.

The afternoon coffee with him couldn’t come soon enough. If this ridiculous plan was going to work, you needed to lay everything out on the table and get on the same page—and fast.

_

The coffee shop was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon when you arrived, your workday still clinging to you in the form of a slight tension in your shoulders. You pushed open the door, letting the comforting aroma of roasted beans and the soft murmur of conversation wash over you. The café was the perfect midpoint between your home and Auston’s—a cosy, unassuming spot where you could blend in without drawing too much attention.

You spotted him immediately, leaning casually against the counter, waiting for his order. He was dressed in dark jeans and a simple hoodie, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. Felix, his ever-loyal best friend, sat patiently by his side, drawing a few admiring glances from other patrons. Auston, as always, looked like he belonged anywhere and nowhere at once, exuding an ease that made people take notice without realising they were doing so.

Auston caught sight of you as the barista handed him his drink. He gave you a quick nod, that trademark smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey,” he greeted as you approached. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” you replied, offering a small smile as you ordered your coffee.

As Auston watched you at the counter, his gaze lingered longer than he’d intended. You were dressed in your workday attire—professional yet effortless, like you hadn’t spent a second longer than necessary pulling yourself together. But it was the way you carried yourself that intrigued him. Even with the slight tension in your shoulders, there was a quiet determination in your movements, a resilience that he couldn’t help but notice.

Once you had your drinks, you stepped outside, where Felix immediately perked up, tail wagging enthusiastically. “He’s got more energy than I do,” you said, watching the dog sniff at a nearby patch of grass.

“Good thing he burns it off fast,” Auston replied, handing you Felix’s leash with an easy confidence that caught you off guard. “Here, you take him for a bit.”

“Me?” You stared at the leash, then at Felix, who was now looking at you with expectant eyes.

“Yeah, you,” Auston said, his grin widening. “It’s not that hard. Just don’t let him drag you into traffic.”

You rolled your eyes but took the leash, letting Felix lead the way as the three of you started down the quiet street. Auston glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, amused by the way you held the leash like it might bite you. Despite your initial awkwardness, he had a feeling Felix would win you over in no time.

“You’re stiff,” Auston said after a few moments, his tone casual but observant. “Relax. It’s just a walk.”

“It’s not just a walk,” you muttered, glancing around. “There are probably a dozen people ready to take a picture right now.”

“And what if there are?” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

You huffed but didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong. Still, the weight of being “seen” felt heavier than you’d anticipated.

“You’re overthinking it,” Auston said after a moment. “We’re just two people, walking a dog. Act like it.”

“I’m trying,” you shot back, but the edge in your voice made him smirk.

“Try harder,” he teased.

As Felix tugged you toward a nearby lamppost, Auston found himself studying you again. You didn’t fit the mold of the people who usually surrounded him. There was no pretense, no calculated charm. You were genuine—maybe to a fault, given how uncomfortable you seemed in the spotlight. He found it oddly refreshing.

“He’s really into this whole sniffing thing,” you said, changing the subject as Felix investigated another patch of grass.

“He’s thorough,” Auston said with a chuckle. “Doesn’t miss a single blade of grass.”

The light banter helped ease the awkwardness, and soon, the conversation shifted to more neutral topics. He asked about your day, and to his surprise, you opened up with a candid rundown of your work. You asked him about his travel schedule and the demands of his career, your questions more thoughtful than the usual superficial ones he was used to. And for the first time in a while, he felt like someone was genuinely interested in him, not the player or the famous persona.

“You’re used to it, though, right?” you asked. “The attention?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “It comes with the job. You get good at tuning it out.”

“Must be nice,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

He caught it anyway. “You’ll get there,” he said simply.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound awfully confident.”

He smirked. “Someone has to be.”

The conversation gradually turned more personal as you walked, Felix weaving between the two of you. Auston told you about growing up in Scottsdale, his early days in hockey, and how he adjusted to life in Toronto. In return, you shared snippets of your own life—your family, your job, your goals.

Yet, as you spoke, Auston couldn’t help but notice how you deflected any kind of praise. If he complimented your work ethic, you’d shrug it off. If he mentioned your ambition, you’d redirect the conversation. It was clear you weren’t comfortable taking credit for your own strengths, and that baffled him. In his world, confidence was currency, and yours seemed to be in short supply.

By the time you circled back toward the coffee shop, the awkwardness from earlier had all but evaporated. Felix was panting happily, his energy finally burned off, and you felt a little lighter too.

As you handed the leash back to Auston, he gave you a considering look. “You should come to the game tomorrow.”

“The home game?” you asked, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re supposed to be my…” He trailed off, his smirk turning playful. “It’ll look good. You know, for the act.”

You hesitated, unsure, but he pressed on. “Come on. VIP seats, good company. What’s there to think about?”

You rolled your eyes but found yourself nodding. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he said, pulling Felix closer as he grinned down at you. “And don’t forget your game face.”

As he walked away, Auston couldn’t help but glance back, his thoughts lingering on you longer than he expected. For all your insecurities, there was something undeniably compelling about you. This arrangement might have started as a strategy, but he was beginning to wonder if it could be something else too.

_

“Oh, Toronto. What a tangled web our Ice King is weaving. One moment he’s dominating the ice (or, well, trying to), and the next, he’s walking through the city with his Mystery Queen by his side—dog in tow, coffee in hand, and cameras lurking around every corner.

It’s a scene straight out of a romance novel: casual smiles, shared laughs, and the kind of chemistry that can’t be ignored (even if it’s staged, we see you, Matthews). Yet, there’s something undeniably intriguing about this pairing. She’s poised, seemingly unbothered by the chaos surrounding him, and he? Well, let’s just say he doesn’t seem to mind the added spotlight when she’s in the frame.

But don’t get too comfortable, dear readers. There are cracks in every façade, and this one is no exception. The whispers in the hockey world are growing louder, and if there’s one thing we know, it’s that the truth has a funny way of coming to light—especially when the stakes are this high.

So, what’s the endgame here? Is this truly a strategic pairing, or are we witnessing the beginning of something that neither of them saw coming? Whatever the answer, you can bet your last sip of Tim’s coffee that I’ll be here to spill the tea.

Until next time, Toronto. Keep your eyes on the ice—and the streets. The season is young, and this story is just getting started.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

[johnstamosobsessed]

Jessie Katsopolis x reader

Summary: y/n finds out that Jesse REALLY likes it when she plays with his hair

💕💞💖💓💗💕💕💖💞💗💓💕💖💞💗💞

It’s been a long day at work, with all the rude people and paper work. You where very relieved to be coming home to your husband of not, almost one year, Jesse Katsopolis. He was the sweetest man you’d ever met. As soon as he set his eyes on you he knew that you where the one for him, the one that he would spend the rest of his life with. You unlocked the door and dragged yourself into the house tiredly. Ugh , after a long day all you wanted to do was be in the arms of your sweet lover. You climbed up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. And collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. “Aw, is my love tired?” He asked in a sweet tone, all you could do is nod because you where really tired. “c’mere darling “ he said sweetly before you pulled yourself into his arms sun began to relax once more into his warm, and comforting embrace. You wrap your hands around his neck and began playing with his hair “ohhh” he moaned. That sure woke you up, out of all the reactions you could’ve ran through your head, that would not have been one of them. “Do you like that?” You asked teasingly. “N-no, it just I-uh it fought me off guard” this new side of Jesse was quite cute. You where used to the confident smooth Jesse, and now he was just a flustered mess. “Oh you know you did” you responded to his sorry attempt to play off the situation. You began to play with his hair again, this home messaging his head while you did. “Mmh” Jesse let out a little noise. “Oh you really like this don’t you?” You asked teasingly “okay.” He said now giving up. “Maybe I do like it, but only a little” You giggle before giving him more head rubs. He reminded you of a little kitten, being petted for the first time in forever. “Okay if you get to do that, then I get to do this” he says before ticking you, making you giggle and ask him to stop. Eventually you made a deal, you wouldn’t play with his hair and make him flustered, and he wouldn’t tickle you and make you giggle so hard you couldn’t breath. You began to cuddle in tight as his breathing slowed and you begin to drift into sleep.

Yeah this was defiantly worth the day of work

///////////////////////////////////

I’m looking for more requests for this page,I take anything for John Stamos and his characters, but you can also request other things for my main blog.~

💕💓💞💗💖💕💓💞💗💖💕💓💞💗💖💕

[acebytaemin]

[end of an era]: closing #analook

first of all, i want to say thank you times five billion to everyone who’s ever tagged me in a post. it goes without saying that i have enjoyed every single one of them and will treasure this entire experience and all the beautiful creations i’ve gotten to see (and discuss in great lengths in the tags of course 🤭). now, that’s partly the reason why i feel like i should wrap it up - you all create such wonderful things and they all deserve my full attention and all the yapping i can muster yet sadly just don’t have the time to type up. it’s silly how much it’s meant to me (i might be tearing up a little) and how much i’m going to miss it, but i really do think it’s for the best. of course, feel free to @ me or send me any post of yours in the future - you know i’ll respond with enthusiasm. though it won’t come close to a gif/edit/artwork, i’ve typed up little thank-you notes to the main contributors to #analook as a token of my gratitude under the cut. love & appreciate you all SO so so so much! 💖

@atlantis-area - my dearest alexa, the reason i even started a user tag and got to experience all this, thank you The most 💖 hopefully you already know how grateful i am for you, so i won’t make it too long. it’s been a pleasure (and will continue to be) to watch your giffing style evolve and to get to be a fan of taemin alongside you. love you! 🩵

@herewegobebe - oh my darling ru where do i start 🥹 i’m soooo so thankful for your wonderful presence and your gifs (as ive already told you numerous times). you’ve been a real highlight of my tag (it’s still a bit of a starstruck moment for me to be your mutual/get tagged in your gifs tbh!) and it’s going to make me really really sad to potentially miss some of your gifs now but best believe i’ll be checking ur blog whenever i can 🙂‍↕️💖

@minhosblr - MAJA my number one gorgeous wino gif source i literally can’t believe you even tagged me in them to begin with i feel like it’s all been such a successful fan moment 🥹🐰🫶🏻 thank you so so much & ofc expect me all up in your tags regardless 😽💓

@kimsuyeon - my lili the absolute master of gifs with gorgeous quality and beautiful coloring and stunning women like you can truly do no wrong in my books anytime i see a gif of yours i get giddy and feel like cracking my knuckles and going IN in the tags. thank you soooo much for gracing me (and everyone else) w your gorgeous gifs 💝

@pink-vacancy - the way im going to miss yuna & mina served on a beautiful platter cannot be overstated.. thank you so much for adding a beautiful touch of cherry red spice to my tag 🙂‍↕️🍒💋 (and kinda beside the point but also for always being SO incredibly sweet & nice to me)

@faunandfloraas - jess my third favorite australian 🤭💕 your creativity and collecting moments/pulling parallels + funny tags have brought me very many giggles, thank you saaaaur much 😽💕

@chanrizard - sa thank you soooo much for my chan gif fixes 💖 and SORRY for all the stuff you’ve had to read in your tags and still tagging me regardless lmfaojfkdjdk you best believe you’ll keep on reading them as i’ll be a frequent visitor of your blog from now on 🫡

@rainknow - your art has been one my favorite things to find in my tag, thank you so so so much for using it! most wonderful capturing of lino i’ve ever seen, no one does his eyes justice like you do 😽💖 (pls if you ever feel like it and i don’t see a post of ur art mention me or send it to me - it’d be highly appreciated!)

@linoyes - thank you SO much for amping up the amount of linos in my tag, it’s been such a delight to see your giffing evolve and im excited to keep yapping in your tags in the future 🤭💞💞💞

@jonghyunluvr - your jjong/taemin posts are always so enjoyable, i love your insights and how you notice the same things as me sometimes hehe 🩵🩵 please do keep sending them to me by all means 😌

@shorelinnes - raf pleaseeee if you want to still send me or tag me in your art.. i’d be so sad to miss it and your gorgeous gifs too! im so very happy to have you around and i appreciate all the posts you’ve tagged me in so so much 💞

@strayklds - em i remember being nervoussss to ask you to tag me hdksjdk i think your gifs are so good and want to thank you Very much for tagging me in them! it’s really been a pleasure 🫶🏻

@briankang - TAY my minchan friend and my bangchan gifs supplier you best believe i’ll be checking your blog 🤭 thank you SO much for all you’ve tagged me in so far 💖 (still thinking abt your minchan ate teasers edits.. changed my life now idk if for the better or worse but. lives have been changed for sure)

@taeiltual - bex your gorgeous edits truly make me think that most of these companies truly need to do better, thank you so much for making everyone look more beautiful and tagging me along (hehe) for the ride! 💖

@ashmp3 @kissoflifes - thank you two SO much for using my tag as intended and for the highest purpose of all - in your gorgeous selfies! (& thank you zaynab for your beautiful gifs too ofc ofc) for sure still send them to me if i happen to miss them we Do Nottt want a tragedy like that to ever strike. love u my beautiful friends 💞💞

@28reas0ns - not directly related to my tag (though you did tag me in a couple of beautiful sets!) but just wanted to once again thank you for my header gif(s) i’ll really treasure them for a long time 💝

and a shoutout to everyone who’s tagged me in a few of their posts, thank you thank you thank you from the bottom of my heart! it’s really felt special every single time and i can’t thank you all enough for thinking of me and inviting me to yap in your tags like one would a vampire into their home. MWAH appreciate you all soooo so much 💖💖💖:

@reiiofsunn 💖 @drzephyr 💖 @hyunjinsource 💖 @minho-knows 💖 @speakofcompersion 💖@linolinoing 💖 @sunugf 💖

[headfullofpresley]

@septembersghost us. 💕

@pscentral event 12: take two ♡ team colours + women + dynamics + love + comfort

BLAIR WALDORF & SERENA VAN DER WOODSEN

[vintagelacerosette]

Tag game 🩷🎀

Hosted by the wonderful Jess @jrooc

Sorry for the lateness!! I was tagged by these twinkling starlights Kaka @stocious Dosho @doshiart Kat @mybrainismelted Pie @gallapiech Ice @spookygingerr Michelle @mmmichyyy Willow @ian-galagher Jen @wehangout Georgia @iansw0rld Cyn @ms-moonlight-inn Evie @ energievie Gigi @guinguin1984 Becki @francesroserecs Michelle @michellemisfit

Thaaankss 🥰

Name and A03 handle:

Shermyn/Myn & Dynastyria (no written works yet!💕)

Current Location:

On the lounge couch

Favourite picrew (don’t have one? you can skip this or do this one)?

So many to choose from!!!

Picrew 1 (I am obsessed with cardcaptors) , Picrew 2 (Willow made of usss & I treasure itttt 😍) Picrew 3 & Picrew 4 (bc who doesn't love a good bread bowl)

What’s one thing you want in a picrew?

I think more body size inclusively 🙌🏻

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom?

Tie between Molly's draw this in your style/Gallacrafts & 2024 gallavich valentine's!

Why is it your favourite?

It's the first time a drawing really looked how I thought it did in my head & I impressed myself. Also, I'm obssessed with the pastels in the gallavalentine. 🩷🩵💜

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? 

Hard bc I find body poses hard, then I start to procrastinate bc of that, but then I've got the deadline so it makes me stressed haha

Last ao3 fic you commented on?

from way up there (you and I, you and I) by the amazing @sam-loves-seb It was the cutest I couldn't even!!!

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? 

Where the Feigned Wind Falls by the very talented & missed Jenna @ianrightsonly

Thank you for sharing your story & I hope one day you'll come back 🥰

Favourite trope or head canon you like included in a fanfic?

Ohhh gotta be lust at first sight, then we fuck our way into true tender feelings!! I'm a sucker for it!! Notable writers of this are Jane @captainjowl & Kay @goodkwuestion & they are so damn good at it

Least favourite?

I haven't seen with gallavich thankfully but turning one character in a gay ship into the opposite gender to make them het!!

Secret or surprising kink or trope?

Omg it's gotta be uniform kink bc of Ray @whatthebodygraspsnot Kinktober 2022. It awoke something in me & I was like I finally get it ahaha

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new?

I feel relief & feeling proud. Then I stress about when's a good time to post for most of ya'll to see bc of timezones 😅

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line:

My loves Benja @svltburn & Vey @look-i-love-u

I run to Ben in my art WIP bc like a kid showing art to an adult & Vey's given me amazing advice with writing that sparked inspiration 🥰

I'm in the headspace of desperately telling ppl about my fic ideas & wanting it to be a surprise so idk i may reach out for more hype men haha

It’s been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____

Like Evie I mass reblog fandom works to spread love 🩷

I'm tagging these sparkling rainbow darlings if they wanna play & for anyone else consider yourself tagged 🌈

@ burninface @deedala @jademickian @sgtmickeyslaughter

@darthvaders-wife @matt404b @gallavichsbitch

@deathclassic @look-i-love-u @celestialmickey

@takeyourpillsbitchh @sickness-health-all-that-shit

@whaticameherefor @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx

@psychicskulldamage @sleepyfacetoughguy @doodlevich

@awa444 @suzy-queued @crossmydna @iandarling

@y0itsbri @michellemisfit @mikhailoisbaby @samantitheos

@pookiebearmick @reganmian @firecrxtch

@howlinchickhowl

[zoeykallus]

Helloo

It‘s me again 👋🏼

I'm sorry to hear that life hasn't been good to you. It wasn't very pleasant to me either. My mother passed away from cancer.

But maybe someday we'll have better luck 🍀

Anyway i wondered how the Batch (maybe regs like Rex, Fives or Jesse but it’s totally up to you!) would react to their girlfriend telling them or finding out that she wants them to stay in armor while being intimate. In short them finding out she has an armor kink.

The armor is just so hot 🥵

Thank you for your work and have a nice day!

Aloha again, my dear!

I'm so sorry for your loss! Sending lots of love and strength your way! 💜💜💜 Hold on!

Update: I just read your recent ask and I have to say it really hit me hard. Hope you still get to read this one! I wish I could have done more... Thank you so very much for your support, it's much appreciated! You are so amazing, sending you all my love!

💕💕

And of course, here are your HCs, as requested 😊

The Bad Batch/Rex/Fives x Fem!Reader HCs - Armor Kink

Warnings: Strongly Suggestive/Sexual Content/Smut/Armor Kink/18+

_____________

Hunter

You haven't been close for a while, Hunter was away on a mission. When he returns, you fall all over each other making out before either of you can even say hello.

Hunter's fingers are quick and deft, seeming to be everywhere at once, perfectly stimulating each of your erogenous zones until they land where they are finally needed most, on your swollen clit.

Hunter loves to hear and see your reactions when he touches you, he is always fascinated and aroused by it.

He can smell you, your arousal your scent, his mind is full of you. Sitting on his lap his hands under your skirt, one of them in your panties, you begin to remove his codpiece.

Hunter moans as you stroke him over the blacks and finally free his hard length by pulling the fabric down a bit. As you remove your panties, he is about to start taking off the rest of the armor, but you stop him.

"No, don't. Don't take it off. Leave the armor on."

Hunter blinks in surprise and searches your gaze. Suddenly, he smiles.

"You're into the armor, aren't y- hnnngh…. fuck."

As you bring his tip to your gate and let him slowly enter you by sinking back onto his lap, you interrupt him.

You feel the armor plates against your bare skin as his cock is deep inside you. A wonderful feeling. Plus, he just looks hot in his armor.

You smile, befuddled by the arousal, nod and confess, "Yeah, I'm totally into your armor."

He likes that, he will take advantage of that fact more often in the future to get you hot. However, Hunter is also a very passionate person, now and then to feel naked skin on naked skin belongs to him like breathing.

Echo

He has just sat down, still in full armor. The two of you are alone. You surprise him by taking off your wrap dress and sitting on his lap, completely naked. Echo blinks and looks at you. A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth.

"From now on, you must always greet me like this," he says with a grin, and his hand begins to wander down your body, just like his lips.

As his armor coolly presses against your bare skin, and his lips travel along your neck, you feel yourself instantly becoming wet. Heat spreads through your body, a soft, irresistible tingling under your skin.

You pull off his codpiece, freeing his hard length, getting into position over his lap. As you sink down on top of him and his cock slides into your pussy, he moans into the kiss, "Hnnghmm…. Darling, I'm still in full gear".

"I like that…" you murmur back and take him in with relish, pressing yourself against his lap to feel the cool, hard surface of his armor plates.

You feel him grin into the kiss, then hear him say, "Good to know."

Basically Echo is open to anything you like, though perhaps cautious at times, he is always curious. He will try almost anything for you. And this little kink, he actually likes it quite a bit himself.

Wrecker

You're finally alone again; it's been a while since the last quiet get-together. Much too long for Wrecker's taste.

"Cuddle time!" he rumbles with a grin.

By that he doesn't just mean cuddling, also, but not only, and you know it. He already wants to start undressing, is really excited to finally have you to himself again, but you stop him.

Wrecker pauses, looking at you with disappointment out of wide eyes.

"No cuddle time?" he asks, pouting.

You smile slyly and undress in front of him emphatically, slowly, as his eyes begin to follow your every move.

"Oh, we'll cuddle," you say suggestively, "But you keep your armor on."

Wrecker frowns questioningly, he doesn't immediately understand what you're getting at, but he waits to see what you have in mind.

You reach for his codpiece and loosen it, starting to stroke his huge cock over the fabric of the blacks.

"This is the only thing you're allowed to take off," you finally reveal to him.

Two heartbeats later, a grin spreads across his face.

The playful giant joins in, of course. Now that he knows you like his armor, he regularly poses for you when he's in full gear as soon as your gaze wanders in his direction.

Tech

He's working very long hours again. The guys are on their way, only you and Tech stayed behind in the Marauder, and Tech has been lying under the console in the cockpit for hours. When you come in to check on him, he's still lying there, various tools around him.

He hears your footsteps and asks, "Did I lose track of time again, honey?"

"You sure did," you say.

He sighs, puts the tools aside and goes to get up, but you climb over him with a grin and push him back down. He drops back down and looks at you questioningly, his eyes widened behind the lenses of his goggles.

"What are you up to?" he asks, puzzled.

"Sex."

You take off his codpiece and push your skirt up a bit, so he can see you're not wearing any underwear, rubbing your heated lap against his hard length. Tech blinks several times and stares at the spot where your naked pussy touches his blacks. He instantly grows hard.

"I see…"

"Tech?"

He blinks again and looks up into your face.

"Yes?"

"Would you take me on the console, with your armor?"

You don't have to ask him a second time or explain yourself. This place and this pose are his favorite secret fantasy.

Crosshair

You don't even have to ask him for it. Crosshair takes every opportunity to get intimate with you, and unfortunately, it's not nearly as often as he'd like. In fact, he surprises you in the engine room of the shuttle, just as the others are on their way.

You hear the sound of the codpiece falling to the floor, before you can even turn around he has pressed up against you from behind, and you feel his hard cock pressing against your ass through the fabric of your clothes.

He kisses your neck, biting your earlobe. His hands almost feverishly open your pants and pull them down, along with your panties. Crosshair bends you over one of the machines.

"The machine oil," you say, more or less protesting.

"I'll buy you new clothes," he murmurs back, pulling off a glove with his teeth and sliding his fingertips along your thighs, beginning to stroke your wet folds, stimulating your pearl.

Finally, Crosshair pulls the fabric of his Blacks down a bit to free his cock and guides it to your wet cleft from behind. He penetrates you and with each thrust, you feel his armor plates hit your bare skin.

He bends down to your ear as he takes you and says in a suggestive whisper, "I know you like it when I leave the armor on".

Rex

One of the first things Rex does once he's off duty is to take off his armor. That's why you have to ask him to put it back on. As you're about to get intimate, and you do just that, he looks at you uncomprehendingly.

"You want me to put on my armor?"

"Yes, please," you say, biting your lower lip.

He blinks in confusion.

"But why?"

You hold out the codpiece to him and say innocently, " Except you're not supposed to wear this."

Rex blinks again, several times, then you see a soft blush creep into his cheeks.

"Oh, I see… If that is your wish"

So he puts his armor back on, as you asked, without the codpiece.

Rex is curious and always eager to please you, of course he does it for you.

As he is deeply absorbed in you, in full gear and taking you passionately, he hears you moan "Oh Captain".

And yes, somehow he likes it, more than he might want to admit at first.

Fives

He is passionate, every minute you have for yourselves, you cuddle, smooch or have sex, if it can be done preferably all together. Often he surprises you at your apartment door already smooching you up, while he comes in and presses you warmly against him.

Sometimes in the hallway between the apartment door and the bedroom, the first clothes are already flying before you have even said "hello".

He likes to have fun, anything that could be fun generally interests him anyway. So you are not too shy to ask him, because you know there is no reason to be.

When you tell him that you like his armor and that he should leave it on, he just grins at you, takes off the codpiece and says insinuatingly, "Come here, beautiful".

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

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[a-flappy-bat]

Jesse x Darling 💕

[headfullofpresley]

JESSSS PLS. i told you; i refuse to suffer alone!

and you best believe he'd know every single line of every song by heart. would make you play it to him ever day. plays it even when he's alone. sings it in the shower. everywhere!

also covering the entire album together? yes. 100% YES.

i love you jess and you love it when i treat you like that. 😌💗

dedicating this post to my worst enemy @headfullofpresley. a mean, vicious, straight-razor totin' woman. i cannot believe you would treat me like this, so innocent and pure of heart. how dare you

and another thing!

i looooove you 🥰😘💗

[lefthandedhotch]

hello <3 thanks to pinterest i have an aaron and jack ask because <3 my boys <3 like thats husband and son fr !!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

he pet the small boy :3 actually CRYING because he's sooooooo so so so tiny :'))) and all smiley because his daddy gave him a medal :3 PLSSSS and then the team being all 👀🤭 when they meet beth CRIES i love them all soooo much :')) the only found family ever <3

thinking about them all meeting you there <33 aaron's fiance who he's been with for a good while and while they were a bit frowny :( at not getting to know about you sooner, they knew that he did it because of what happened with haley and foyet and they knew how important she was to him so they totally understood that he kept you a secret as long as he did🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 but penny tells them to all snap out of it because he only said fiance not wife so there's plenty of time to get to know you before and at the wedding which she will now be in charge of because she loves love 🤭🤭🤭😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞💞 you look over at aaron and grin soooo happily because they're all as amazing as he and jack told you they'd be - actually!!! they're even more amazing than that!!!!!!!!!!!!!🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 you kiss your sweaty sweaty man and congratulate him on the triathlon and how amazing he did and he gets all blushy and shy despite the team being there (penelope Can Not control her squeals of happiness ajsmskfnfkdkgkk) and you all go get something to eat and jack holds your hand so happy that his aunties and uncles can finally meet you and!!!!! because he has a medal🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 penelope is squished to your other side asking So Many questions and you look over at aaron so amused and so happy because he has such a silly bau family and you love them all so much already🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞

hehehehehe hiiiiiiiiii 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 thank u pinterest and thank u jess-brain for the cutie hotchner boys thought!!!! 🤭🤭💕💕💕💕💕 fr fr thats husband and son!!!! 🥹🥹🥹💗💗💗

teeniest tiniest boy ever :(((((( being sooooooo proud of his daddy and sooooooo happy when his daddy lays the medal around his neck 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 and he immediately turns to giggle to you “it’s so heavy!!!” which makes you grin so big and squish his lil cheeks “that’s because you’re so little!” and aaron watches the whole thing with the biggest most heart-eyed grin Ever! which of course makes penelope squeal loud enough to make every racer and their friends/family in the vicinity glance over at your little group all curiously 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 and after you smooch smooch smooch your sweaty handsome darling aaron, that sweet blonde angel penny gloms onto you immediately and with the help of the little hotchner bug in your arms, she gets the whole story of how you and aaron met and fell in loooooooove 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 hehehe at some point when the team all realize that penny’s interrogation of you (with questions and comments sprinkled in by the whole team who are All very curious about you 🤭) is not going to end soon, rossi suggests drinks and dinner at his mansion!!!! you’re very excited because you’ve heard Many Many stories of bau parties and rossi’s home from your hotchner guys but aaron sighs all dramatically because he is Sweaty (which of course makes you giggle and smooch his cheek as you hum “but you’re cuuuuuute” and he’s immediately placated 🤭😌 also rossi says he can shower at his place AKDHDKDJSKSKS) but you and jack are happy so he’s happy to go hang out with the team and tell silly stories about you and him when you first started dating 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 it’s still kinda early in the evening at rossi’s but sweet lil jack is already snoozing and snoring in your arms (because he was up Late the night before making a poster for his dad) and you keep seeing aaron hiding snores behind his Big hand because he’s soooooo tired after working so hard that day :( so you hug everyone and tell them you’re taking your boys home (which makes them all 🥹💕 because they Love knowing that someone who loves them so much is taking care of them 🥺) and when you get them home and get aaron into bed so you can kiss his sleepy face and murmur over and over how proud of him you are and how happy you are to have met his people who are so so important to him (and now to you too!!!!!!) and all aaron can think as you fall asleep snuggled into his chest with your hand resting over his heart and his ring on your finger while he plays over the whole day in his head is that he can’t Wait for you to be his wife and he can’t believe how unbelievably grateful he is that you’re in his (and jacks 🤭🥹🥰💗) life 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭💞💞💞💞💗💗💗💗💗��🥰🥰

[vhagar-balerion-meraxes]

send this to all your favourite moots and roll a snowball! KEEP THE SNOWBALL ROLLING!❄️🤍❄️🤍❄️

[skyhavens]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DARLING IMOGEN!!!! 🎉✨ I hope you have an absolutely wonderful day and an even better next year of your life, filled with joy and gorgeous ocs and sexy antagonists for you to ship them with 😘 you deserve it 💕💗

THANK YOU SO MUCH, JESS!! 😭🩷✨ thank you for sticking by me for such an incredibly long time! and for always encouraging my absolute scrambled oc nonsense! you're such an absolute darling.

[misshoneyimhome]

What’s up, buttercups! 💕 Welcome back to chapter two of The Benchwarmer! First off—thank you so much for all the love and excitement you’ve shared for this story already. Seeing your reactions has been the absolute best, and I’m beyond excited to keep unfolding this journey with you!

Now, in case you’re wondering—will there ever be any intimate interactions between Reader and Auston? Oh, absolutely ✨ Have I made this a painfully slow burn that’s torturing even me with the suspense? Also yes🔥 Happy reading, my darlings! 💕✨

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, no warnings

Word count: 6.3K Chapter one

➼｡ﾟ

Chapter two: #MysteryQueen

::

“Dearest Toronto readers, it seems we have a mystery on our hands. Last night’s charity gala gave us glitz, glamour, and a moment that has the internet on fire. Forget the perfectly tailored suits, designer gowns, and champagne flutes—because what truly stole the show was one unexpected stumble and the instant chemistry that followed.

Our beloved Ice King, Auston Matthews, found himself caught in an uncharacteristically warm moment with an unidentified woman whose presence has ignited more conspiracy theories than a Stanley Cup drought. A fleeting touch, a lingering gaze, and now a photo has been seen around the world. Toronto can’t stop talking about it, and #MysteryQueen is trending faster than you can say, ‘Hat trick.’

Could the Ice King’s frosty demeanour finally be thawing?

Now, let’s not forget the timing, dear readers. With Matthews stepping into the captain’s role this season, his every move has been scrutinised. A new relationship would add fuel to the fire, making the stakes higher than ever. But this columnist can’t help but wonder—does the man who keeps everyone at arm’s length finally have someone worth letting in?

Stay tuned, Toronto. This season has just begun, and the story is heating up – so you know I’ll be here to bring you every detail.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer.”

_

Monday -

The shrill sound of your alarm cut through the quiet of your bedroom, jolting you awake with a groggy start. You fumbled to silence it, groaning as you buried your face back into the pillow. The events of the gala were already slipping into a hazy blur—clinking glasses, polished speeches, and that awkward but fleeting moment with Auston Matthews. Another long night of work, another day ahead. Same routine, different Monday.

Except… your phone wouldn’t stop vibrating.

The incessant buzzing broke through your grogginess like a second alarm. You squinted at the screen, your vision struggling to adjust to the early morning light filtering through the blinds. Notification after notification lit up your phone, the vibration almost rattling it off your nightstand. You reached for it, dread prickling at the edges of your still-sleepy mind. Why was everyone blowing up your phone?

You swiped it open only to see your group chat with Jess and Maya was on fire.

Jess (7:23 AM): OH MY GOD, HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?

Maya (7:24 AM): You’re all over X! #MysteryQueen is trending, babe!

Your heart skipped a beat, confusion settling in your chest like a lead weight. Trending? That couldn’t be right. With trembling fingers, you tapped the link Jess had sent, a sinking feeling in your gut as the page loaded.

It took a moment—your Wi-Fi felt sluggish, though it was probably just your nerves slowing time to a crawl. When the image finally appeared, your breath caught.

There it was: the photo. The one everyone seemed to be talking about.

Auston Matthews’ hands were firmly wrapped around your torso, his smirk that perfect mix of charm and confidence, while your face betrayed every ounce of surprise and embarrassment you’d felt in that moment. Cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wide—you looked like you’d stumbled straight out of a romance novel and into his arms.

The lighting, the angle, the backdrop—it was all too good. Soft, golden hues framed the two of you like the culmination of a carefully planned rom-com climax. Whoever had captured the moment had turned a fleeting accident into what now appeared to be undeniable chemistry.

Above the photo, the headline read: “Has the Ice King finally been dethroned? Who is this stunning Mystery Queen?”

Your stomach churned as you scrolled through the attached comments. They were relentless.

“Who is she???”

“She’s gorgeous! Can we ship this already?”

“Ice King has a Queen! Loving this”

Memes were already circulating: the two of you photoshopped onto movie posters, side-by-side shots of you under headlines like “Toronto’s Hottest Couple?” Theories ranged from harmless to absurd—everything from claims you were his secret girlfriend to guesses about your astrological compatibility.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jess (7:26 AM): You broke the internet, Queen. Do we bow now, or…?

Maya (7:30 AM): You’re literally famous. Like, for real. Can we talk about how hot Auston Matthews looked holding you?

A groan escaped you as you tossed your phone back onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. “This can’t be happening…”

You stayed like that for a moment, letting the panic wash over you. Your mind raced as you replayed the moment in question. It had been nothing. A stumble, a quick save, a polite exchange, and you’d moved on. How had it spiralled into this?

Your laptop sat on your desk, its sleek, black screen staring back at you like it dared you to confirm just how bad things were. Hesitating, you opened it and typed in the dreaded hashtag: #MysteryQueen.

The search results were overwhelming. Page after page of posts, photos, and speculation. Your name hadn’t surfaced yet—thankfully—but that didn’t stop people from trying to piece together every detail about you. Some users had gone so far as to zoom in on your necklace, debating whether it was a gift from Auston.

You groaned again, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temples. Stress bubbled in your chest, threatening to spill over. Jess and Maya’s texts kept pinging, a mix of teasing and encouragement that you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

Jess: “So… when are you introducing us to Auston?”

Maya: “Not to be dramatic, but if you don’t milk this for all it’s worth, I’ll be mad.”

You snorted despite yourself, though the laugh was hollow. You opened your email, desperate for a distraction or a sense of normalcy, but the subject line at the top of your inbox snatched that hope away: “We need to talk about last night.”

It was from your boss.

Your stomach sank further as you glanced at the clock. 7:45 AM. Not even time for coffee.

“Perfect,” you muttered, slamming your laptop shut. This wasn’t just damage control anymore—this was survival. You needed to get ready for work, figure out how to salvage your career, and pray the internet had a short attention span.

_

The soft hum of the city buzzed faintly in the background as Auston Matthews stood in his kitchen, barefoot on the cool tile floor. He scrolled through his phone with one hand while expertly cracking an egg into a sizzling pan with the other. The aroma of coffee brewing filled the space, mingling with the faint sound of the egg frying. It was a typical morning—except for the buzzing chaos of his phone on the counter, vibrating with relentless notifications.

His phone rattled against the marble again. He leaned over, smirking as the latest messages lit up the screen.

Mitchy (7:15 AM): “Nice work, Captain. Saving PR girls in distress now?”

Auston chuckled softly, shaking his head. Mitch’s commentary was always reliable.

A second buzz followed.

Willy (7:20 AM): “Does she have a sister? Asking for a friend.”

He snorted, typing out a quick reply: “You’d have no chance, Willy.”

Sliding the eggs onto a plate, Auston grabbed a bottle of Prime from the fridge. He leaned back against the counter, sipping casually while thumbing through social media. There it was—the photo that had set the internet on fire.

The hashtags were as relentless as the messages from his teammates:

#MysteryQueen

#IceKingAndQueen

#CoupleGoals

Fans were analysing every pixel of the image: the way he leaned slightly toward you, his smirk soft and almost intimate, the subtle tilt of your head that made it seem like the two of you were the only ones in the room. It was absurd, the way a split-second interaction had been turned into a viral sensation.

His phone buzzed again.

Mitchy (7:32 AM): “So? You bringing her to practice? Or is this another ‘one night and done’ thing?”

Auston rolled his eyes and typed back, “Jealous, Marner?”

The reply came instantly.

Mitchy: “Of you? Never. Of her? Maybe.”

Auston let out a low laugh, setting his phone down with a soft clink. The teasing didn’t bother him. If anything, it amused him. Let them speculate. Let the internet obsess over the photo. He had always been good at playing into the media’s games while staying one step ahead.

He finished his breakfast in thoughtful silence, his mind briefly wandering back to the gala. The night had been standard fare: sponsors, schmoozing, and carefully crafted soundbites. But then there had been you—stumbling into his space, equal parts flustered and sharp-witted. You had been anything but predictable, and that, more than anything, had caught his attention.

The photo had turned a fleeting moment into a viral phenomenon. Now, he was caught up in the swirl of speculation, but unlike most, he didn’t mind. It was fun.

For now, though, there was training to get to. Auston grabbed his bag and headed out, smirking at his phone one last time before silencing the endless stream of notifications. The Ice King wasn’t worried—he was just getting started.

_

Arriving at the office felt like stepping onto a stage where you were the unwitting star of a play you hadn’t auditioned for. The usual hum of activity—clicking keyboards, ringing phones, snippets of muted conversation—was still there, but today, it had a charged edge. Every sound felt sharper, every glance lingered a second too long, and the air seemed to buzz with anticipation, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

You pushed through the glass doors, clutching your bag tightly as your heels clicked against the polished tile. The receptionist, a chipper woman named Clara who usually greeted you with a bright smile and a cheerful good morning, faltered for a split second before recovering. Her eyes flicked to her computer screen, her cheeks pink as if you’d caught her mid-gossip. She returned your nod with a stiff smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, her hand nervously adjusting a stack of papers on her desk.

You offered her a polite “Morning” and continued down the hall, the weight of invisible eyes trailing you like static electricity. The whispers started almost immediately, barely muffled by the thin partitions between desks.

“Is that her?” a voice murmured, not even bothering to lower the volume much.

“I told you it was!” another hissed in reply. “She’s the one from the photo. Did you see how close they were?”

You felt your skin prickle, a flush creeping up your neck. It wasn’t just the whispers—it was the sidelong glances, the quick turns of heads as you passed, the way conversations halted the moment you entered a room. They didn’t need to say your name for you to know exactly what they were talking about.

The now-infamous image of you and Auston Matthews—locked in what looked like a moment of intimate connection—had spread through the office like wildfire. It had morphed you from a background player into the unwelcome centre of attention. Each step felt heavier than the last, your confidence sinking further as you imagined the scenarios they must be concocting. Yet, despite the murmurs, no one dared to approach you directly. They simply stared, whispered, and speculated, leaving you to endure the attention in silence.

By the time you reached your desk, your nerves were stretched taut. You dropped your bag next to the chair and slumped into the seat, staring blankly at your computer screen. The open layout of the office, which usually fostered collaboration, now felt stifling. Every glance felt like a spotlight, every quiet chuckle like it was aimed at you. Your chest tightened as if the walls were closing in.

A soft ping from your computer startled you. You opened your inbox with shaky hands, hoping for a mundane email to ground you. Instead, your heart sank as you read the subject line: “Meeting: 9:30 AM – Mr. Manion’s Office.”

Your stomach flipped. Of course. Your boss wasn’t going to let this slide without a formal discussion.

The clock read 9:30 AM sharp when you stood outside your boss’s office, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. The glass door reflected your image back at you—your blazer slightly wrinkled from the walk, your fingers clutching a tablet like a shield. You forced yourself to smooth down your hair, adjust your blouse, and plaster on a neutral expression. You knocked twice, the sound sharp and hollow.

“Come in,” came the brisk reply.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing the imposing space. Your boss’s office was the epitome of professionalism—sharp lines, muted tones, and a sense of order that bordered on sterile. Framed photos of MLSE milestones lined the walls, alongside neatly mounted jerseys signed by players he'd worked with countless times - hockey, baseball, basketball. The desk was immaculate, save for a single folder that sat directly in the centre. You didn’t need to look closer to know what was inside it.

Mr. Manion, your boss, a no-nonsense man in his late fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetually stern expression, gestured for you to sit. You perched stiffly on the edge of the leather chair, gripping the armrests like they might keep you grounded. The silence in the room stretched, the tension palpable as he flipped open the folder and scanned its contents.

Finally, he looked up, his brows knitting together in faint disapproval. “You’re aware of the situation, I assume?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease twisting in your stomach. “I’ve seen the photo.”

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied you. “Good. Then you understand why this is an issue. This photo—and the ridiculous frenzy it’s caused—has overshadowed what was supposed to be a highlight of our season. The charity event. The teams. Not…” He gestured vaguely toward you, his gaze unyielding. “You.”

The words landed like a slap, even though you’d braced yourself for them. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. “I understand completely.”

“Do you?” His tone sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “Because right now, this office looks less like a PR department and more like the set of a reality show. And if there’s one thing I don’t tolerate, it’s distractions. Our focus is the client. Always the client.”

You nodded quickly, your cheeks burning. “I’ll fix it.”

He leaned forward, his gaze unrelenting. “Good. I’ve organised that you'll be at the hockey game tonight. You’ll work with the MLSE media team to redirect the narrative. Shift the attention back to the players, the franchise—anything but this viral nonsense. Understood?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice firm even as the weight of his expectations settled on your shoulders.

“And another thing,” he added, his tone softening but his expression remaining stern. “You’ll be working with Chase.”

Your stomach dropped. Of all people. Chase, the golden boy of the department who had an uncanny ability to make every situation about himself. Smug, self-assured, and relentless in his pursuit of credit for others’ work, he was the last person you wanted to be paired with.

“Chase?” you repeated, unable to keep the dismay out of your voice.

“Yes,” Mr. Manion said with finality. “He’s handled high-pressure situations before, and I expect you two to work together professionally to resolve this. No more distractions. No more headlines.”

You forced a tight smile. “Understood.”

“Good,” he said, closing the folder with a decisive snap. “Don’t let me down.”

The walk back to your desk felt even longer than the one to his office. Chase. Seriously... You could already picture his self-satisfied grin, the condescending tone he’d use to offer “advice.” The idea of spending the evening with him—let alone relying on him—made your skin crawl.

You slumped into your chair, your head spinning. The whispers around the office seemed to grow louder, like static building to a crescendo. You wanted to disappear, to crawl under your desk and wait for the world to forget the photo. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t an option.

Maybe, you thought for a brief moment, this could be an opportunity. Not the one you’d envisioned, but a chance nonetheless. If you could handle the media circus, Chase’s smugness, and the weight of your boss’s expectations, you’d prove you belonged here—not just as a worker, but as a leader.

Straightening your spine, you smoothed invisible wrinkles from your blouse. No more photos. No more moments. No more headlines. Just fix this and move forward.

Easy enough. Right?

_

The Maple Leafs’ locker room was alive with its usual pre-practice energy. The air buzzed with the familiar sounds of hockey prep—sticks being taped with meticulous precision, skate blades being checked and tightened, and gear bags being unzipped with sharp zings. The smell of sweat, leather, and faint traces of menthol liniment filled the room, but today, the usual pre-game hum carried an extra spark.

All eyes were on Auston Matthews.

“Yo, Tony!” Mitch’s voice broke through the din, instantly commanding attention. He was perched precariously on the bench, one foot up like a man about to deliver the Gettysburg Address. “So, do we call her your soulmate, or was she just your ‘weekend highlight’?”

The room erupted in laughter. Mitch, ever the instigator, milked the moment with exaggerated gestures, holding his heart like he’d been struck by Cupid’s arrow. Auston, unfazed, shrugged off his jacket, hanging it neatly in his stall as though Mitch hadn’t spoken at all.

“Neither,” Auston replied, his tone so smooth and casual it bordered on bored. “But thanks for your concern, Mitchy. Really warms my heart.”

“Oh, I’m concerned,” Mitch shot back, leaping down from the bench with dramatic flair. “It’s not every day our Captain makes romantic headlines off the ice.”

Matthew Knies chimed in next, leaning back lazily in his stall. His grin, wicked and knowing, spread like wildfire across his face. “You gonna share the story, or are you keeping this one all to yourself? Come on, Cappy. Did you at least get her number? Or is this just another no-strings situation?”

Auston finally glanced over, one brow arching in mock amusement. “Don’t you have a mirror to stare at, Kniesy? Go admire yourself somewhere else.”

The laughter doubled, bouncing off the walls like a puck ricocheting off the boards. Even the more reserved players smirked as the banter escalated.

Reaves, stretching out his shoulders, added in his deep baritone, “Bet her phone’s already blowing up. She’s probably sitting there right now, trying to figure out if she’s ready to handle the ‘Ice King.’”

“Or,” Mitch interjected again, holding up a finger like a professor making a critical point, “she’s trying to figure out why she’s trending while he’s already onto the next one.”

Auston rolled his eyes, dropping onto the bench as he reached for his skates. “You guys seriously need better hobbies.”

“Hobbies?” Mitch feigned outrage, clutching his chest theatrically like he’d been mortally wounded. “This is our hobby! Watching you fumble around women like it’s your first time stepping onto the ice.”

Even John Tavares, usually the stoic leader of the group, couldn’t suppress a chuckle as he taped his stick with methodical precision.

“You’re gonna need a new nickname after this,” Conor Timmins called out, grinning as he adjusted his shin guards. “Something like… Loverboy Matthews.”

“Or Prince Charming,” Max Domi suggested, leaning against the wall with a toothless grin. “You swooped in, caught her mid-fall—classic fairy-tale move. You practicing for a movie, or what?”

Auston didn’t miss a beat. “Just trying to remind you guys what grace under pressure looks like.”

The locker room erupted into hoots and cheers, players slapping their thighs or sticks against the floor in exaggerated applause. Even Auston, usually unflappable, couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s not forget the most important question, eh,” Mitch said, raising his voice to cut through the noise. “Did you or did you not close the deal? Because if you didn’t…” He let the sentence hang, his grin turning mischievous as the room erupted again.

Auston shook his head, leaning down to lace his skates with deliberate precision. “You guys are fucking awful. It was nothing. She’s just a PR manager doing her job. That’s it.”

Reaves shook his head, chuckling. “You’re telling me that look she gave you was part of the job? Please. If that’s her work face, I need to hire her immediately.”

“Let me guess,” William said, his grin widening. “You gave her your best smoulder, and she melted, didn’t she? Ice King strikes again.”

“Smoulder?” Mitch nearly doubled over laughing. “He probably just stood there and grunted. That’s his move. ‘I’m Auston Matthews. Be impressed.’”

“Don’t forget the eyebrow raise,” Max chimed in, waggling his own brows for emphasis. “That’s his closer.”

Auston grabbed a towel from his stall and lobbed it at Mitch, who narrowly dodged it with a dramatic yelp. “Keep dreaming, Marner. You’re just mad you’ll never have my moves.”

The room roared with laughter as Mitch held his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, please. I don’t need your moves, buddy. I’ve got personality.”

“Personality?” Auston repeated, finally looking up with a smirk. “That what you call it now?”

Before Mitch could fire back, a sharp whistle cut through the chaos. Chief’s voice boomed from the hallway. “Alright, enough! Let’s go! Save the soap opera for after practice.”

The laughter died down, though the smirks and knowing glances lingered as the players turned their attention to gearing up.

As soon as Auston stepped onto the ice, the locker room antics faded into the background. The cool air hit his face, sharpening his focus as he took his first powerful strides across the rink. The sound of blades slicing across the ice and sticks snapping against pucks filled the arena, a symphony of precision and power.

“Alright, boys, let’s dial it in!” Auston called, his voice cutting through the hum of activity.

His every movement on the ice was fluid and deliberate, his passes snapping perfectly to his teammates like they were guided by some invisible force. He commanded the flow of drills with the confidence of a seasoned leader, his focus razor-sharp.

Even when Mitch skated past during a drill, leaning in just close enough to whisper, “Hey, Prince Charming—don’t forget to teach us those moves later,” Auston didn’t miss a beat.

“Don’t worry, Mitchy,” he replied, his tone calm and cool. “I’ll save the lessons for when you finally learn how to backcheck.”

The nearby players burst into laughter, and Mitch groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat. Auston smirked as he returned to the drill, his focus unwavering.

Back in the locker room, the banter picked up again as the players peeled off their gear and hit the showers. Auston wiped sweat from his forehead, grabbing his phone from his stall out of habit. The screen lit up with a flood of notifications, but one message stood out.

Mom: “Hola, mijo! Saw the news. You have a girlfriend now? Why didn’t you tell me? Qué sorpresa! Call me later. Besos!”

Auston groaned, leaning back in his stall as he rubbed a hand over his face. Of course, the rumours had made their way all the way to Arizona. His mother never missed a thing.

He quickly typed out a reply:

Auston: “No girlfriend. Just the media blowing things out of proportion. Promise I’ll call later.”

From the stall next to him, Mitch leaned over, his grin as wide as ever. “Let me guess—Mama Matthews wants to meet her future daughter-in-law?”

Auston groaned, tossing another damp towel at him. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Marner?”

“Not until I hear how you’re gonna explain this to her,” Mitch quipped, dodging the towel with a laugh.

Auston shook his head, smirking despite himself. It was going to be a long day. The Ice King wasn’t just trending—he was thriving.

_

“Oh, Auston. A commanding captain on the ice, a knight in shining armour at the galas—tell us, is there anything you can’t do? From blistering wrist shots to a disarming smirk that leaves reporters and fans alike spellbound, you’ve mastered the art of being Toronto’s shining star. Perhaps Mitch Marner should take notes—not just on your hockey technique, but on handling attention with your signature, infuriatingly effortless charm. And William Nylander? He might need a crash course in keeping up with your knack for drawing the spotlight without even trying.

But every kingdom needs balance, doesn’t it? A king isn’t a king without his loyal support. The rookies may watch your every move, but the city is watching, too—an entire court of adoring subjects, dissecting every detail, every headline, every photo. Careful, Matthews. It’s easy to rule the ice, but when the lines between the rink and the spotlight begin to blur, kingdoms can crumble under the weight of their own grandeur.

Your throne is solid for now, but your court is hungry for more. What will you give them next? - The Benchwarmer”

_

The Scotiabank Arena buzzed with pre-game anticipation, the hum of excited chatter blending with the sharp sounds of skates cutting across the ice during warm-ups. Fans clad in blue-and-white jerseys filled the air with energy, their collective excitement palpable as they streamed through the wide doors. The aroma of buttery popcorn and sizzling pretzels wafted through the concourse, mingling with the chill that radiated from the rink below.

You adjusted your blazer with a sharp tug, clutching your tablet tightly as you made your way to the media section. This was your arena of expertise—coordinating interviews, ensuring the narrative focused on the team, and staying invisible in the process. But tonight, the stakes felt impossibly high. The viral #MysteryQueen photo wasn’t just following you; it was plastered in the eyes and whispers of everyone around you.

As you approached the media room entrance, Chase was already waiting, predictably pristine in his perfectly tailored suit. His signature smirk was firmly in place, the kind that always made you want to roll your eyes. He leaned casually against the wall, looking as though he were preparing to deliver a victory speech rather than assist you in damage control.

“Well, well,” he said as you reached him, his tone dripping with mockery. “If it isn’t Toronto’s newest viral sensation. Tell me, how’s life as #MysteryQueen treating you?”

You shot him a glare, your jaw tightening. “Let’s just focus on the job,” you replied curtly.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chase said, falling into step beside you as you walked into the room. “I’m here to make sure you don’t turn this into an even bigger mess. You’ve done enough of that already.”

You clenched your teeth, your grip on the tablet tightening. “I don’t need a lecture from you, Chase.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Because from where I’m standing, you could use a crash course in PR basics. Like staying invisible and not ending up as the story. Rookie move, don’t you think?”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with an icy glare. “Are you going to help, or are you just here to gloat?”

Chase raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin unrelenting. “Relax. I’m just here to keep you in line. Wouldn’t want you tripping over Matthews again and handing the internet more fuel for their fire.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at the jab, but you forced yourself to take a deep breath, counting silently to three. “Let’s just get through tonight without any incidents,” you said, turning on your heel and walking ahead without waiting for his reply.

The pre-game interviews began in a whirlwind of camera flashes and bustling reporters. Auston Matthews entered the room right on time, his presence commanding immediate attention. Every camera lens turned toward him, capturing his perfectly composed demeanour as he prepared for the barrage of questions.

You stood to the side, tablet in hand, observing quietly as he answered each question with ease. He was a natural—calm, polished, and confident. His responses were precise yet charming, a masterclass in handling media under pressure.

Chase leaned in slightly, his voice low but laced with condescension. “Look at him—perfect posture, perfect answers. You’d think he rehearsed this a hundred times.”

“He has,” you shot back under your breath, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

Auston’s gaze flicked in your direction, his eyes catching yours for a fleeting moment. For a split second, a glimmer of amusement danced across his face, as though he’d overheard your exchange. He smirked slightly, turning back to the reporters, but somehow the gesture felt like it was meant for you.

When the interviews concluded, you stepped aside to check the evening’s schedule, your focus shifting back to logistics. Of course, Chase remained close, ready to offer unsolicited commentary.

“You know,” he began, his voice teasing as he leaned against the wall, “if you’re trying to stay out of the spotlight, you might want to stop looking at him like that.”

Your head snapped up, a frown forming on your face. “Like what?” you demanded, sharper than you intended.

“Like he’s the only person in the room,” Chase replied with a smug grin. “Just saying.”

Before you could respond, the crowd began to disperse, the pre-game atmosphere shifting as fans filed toward their seats for the national anthem. You let out a frustrated breath, forcing yourself to refocus. Chase wasn’t worth your energy. Not tonight.

As the game began, the arena roared to life, the crowd erupting with every rush down the ice and save by the goalie. From the media section, you watched the game unfold, your tablet propped on your lap as you took notes and ensured the schedule ran smoothly. Auston was, as always, in his element, commanding the ice with every stride. He directed plays with a sharpness that reminded everyone why he wore the captain’s “C.”

But even amidst the game’s intensity, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every time you glanced up, it felt as though the whispers of fans were louder than the cheers. You caught glimpses of people pointing in your direction, their phones raised discreetly—or not so discreetly—to snap photos.

The hashtag wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, the spectacle was growing.

Chase leaned over during a break in play, his smirk firmly in place. “You’re a hit, you know. The internet can’t get enough of you.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, keeping your eyes on the game. But his words lingered, gnawing at your already frazzled nerves. This wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted—or ever asked for. Worse, you couldn’t tell if Auston was ignoring the attention or quietly revelling in it.

As the final buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted in cheers, you exhaled deeply, the weight of the night still pressing down on you. But this was only the beginning. There was still so much more to face.

_

The buzz of the post-game crowd echoed faintly through the tunnel, a mix of jubilant cheers and the hum of arena staff preparing to wind down for the night. The air was thick with energy, but you barely noticed, your thoughts consumed by the task ahead. You stood just outside the media room, shifting your weight between your heels as if the motion could steady the whirlwind of nerves building inside you.

Your tablet felt heavy in your arms, not because of its weight but because of what it symbolised—your professional armour in a moment that felt far too personal. The image of the viral photo flashed through your mind for the hundredth time that day. The teasing. The whispers. The relentless #MysteryQueen hashtag that refused to die. You hadn’t asked for this spotlight, but it seemed determined to follow you.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and when Auston Matthews stepped out of the media room, your pulse quickened. His shirt was damped, the faint sheen of exertion still clinging to his skin. He exuded a casual confidence, as if he were entirely unfazed by the chaos swirling around him. His gaze swept the hallway before landing on you, and just like that, his professional mask slipped into something more playful.

Raising a brow, he smirked, his tone low and teasing. “Waiting for me?”

You let out a huff, trying to summon the last reserves of your professionalism. “We need to talk,” you said briskly, nodding toward a quieter corner of the hallway.

Intrigued, Auston fell into step beside you, the faint click of his shoes on the concrete floor adding to the tension. Once out of earshot from the lingering media, he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in a relaxed pose that was the polar opposite of how you felt. His posture was casual, but his eyes were sharp, watching you with open curiosity.

“Alright,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his smirk never wavering. “What’s on your mind, Mystery Queen?”

The heat rushed to your cheeks, and you resisted the childish urge to stomp your foot. “Can you not call me that?”

“Fine,” he replied, clearly humouring you, though the amusement in his voice only grew. “What’s the issue, boss?”

Taking a steadying breath, you tightened your grip on your tablet, the hard edges grounding you. “I need you to address the rumours,” you said firmly. “Publicly. Tell everyone there’s nothing between us.”

Auston tilted his head, his smirk softening into something closer to curiosity. “Why?”

“Because,” you said, struggling to keep your frustration in check, “my boss isn’t thrilled about the attention. I’m supposed to be behind the scenes, not… trending online. I have a career to build, and this whole spectacle is not helping.”

He nodded slowly; his expression thoughtful. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might agree. But then, a different light sparked in his eyes—something calculating, almost mischievous—and his smirk returned, sharper than before.

“You want people to take you seriously, right?” he asked, his tone almost too casual.

“Yes,” you said cautiously, narrowing your eyes. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“And you need to stand out? Get noticed by your boss?”

The suspicion prickling at the back of your neck deepened. “What are you getting at?”

Auston straightened slightly, his relaxed stance giving way to something more deliberate. “What if… we don’t deny it?”

Your jaw dropped. “What?”

“Think about it,” he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping into that low, persuasive tone that could probably charm half the city. “The attention isn’t going away anytime soon. If anything, it’s only going to get worse. So why not use it to your advantage?”

“You’re suggesting we… fake it?”

“Exactly,” Auston said, his confidence radiating like heat from a fire. “You want people to notice you? They will. You’ll look like the PR genius who landed me. And I get the media off my back for a while. Everyone thinks I’m ‘taken,’ and they stop asking me about my personal life. Win-win.”

You blinked at him, completely stunned by the audacity of his proposal. “That’s insane.”

“Is it?” he countered, his tone steady, his expression calm. “You said you wanted to build your name. What better way to get people talking? We use this Benchwarmer columnist to our advantage - the gossip she’s writing about me. Us. It’s pure strategy - something you’d know all about. Huh?”

Logic screamed at you to walk away, to tell him he was out of his mind. But another part of you—the part that had endured Chase’s relentless teasing, your boss’s stern lecture, and the whispers of your co-workers—paused. Was this really any more ridiculous than the situation you were already in? And if you played it right, couldn’t this be an opportunity?

You chewed your lip, your gaze darting toward the hallway where the faint buzz of the arena still lingered. “If this has to work,” you said hesitantly, “it has to be believable. No half-measures.”

“Believable,” Auston repeated, his smirk widening into a full grin. “That’s my specialty.”

You let out a resigned sigh, shaking your head. “This is crazy.”

“Crazy works,” he said with a wink, leaning in just enough to make your pulse skip. “Trust me.”

You searched his face for any sign that he wasn’t serious, but all you found was confidence and a glimmer of mischief. Against every ounce of better judgment, you nodded slowly.

“Alright,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s do it.”

The grin that spread across Auston’s face was triumphant, almost wolfish. “You won’t regret it,” he said, his voice low and assured.

As you turned to walk away, your heart pounded in your chest, your thoughts racing faster than the cheers that still echoed faintly through the arena. You couldn’t help but wonder: What have I just gotten myself into?

_

“Dear Toronto readers, it seems we have yet another moment destined for the record books. The Ice King himself, Auston Matthews, and his so-called Mystery Queen were spotted in an intimate exchange in the depths of Scotiabank Arena, away from the roar of the crowd and the cameras—well, most of them.

Sparks, dear readers, are flying faster than pucks on a power play.

The city is buzzing louder than the boards after a hard check, and why wouldn’t it be? For a team as iconic as the Maple Leafs, even the smallest whisper of a new royal couple in their kingdom is enough to set the fandom ablaze. And this particular pairing? It has all the makings of a modern fairy tale—complete with a little mystery and a lot of chemistry.

But let’s not forget the rest of the court. The rookies may be loyal subjects, and the veteran players ever-watchful advisors, but every kingdom comes with its share of intrigue. Whispers from the locker room suggest a reign of strategy, while murmurs in the stands lean toward romance.

Whatever the truth, one thing is certain: this King and Queen have the entire city watching their every move. Will their story be one of triumph or turmoil? Only time will tell.

So, stay tuned, Toronto. The season is young, and the drama is only just beginning.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

[awkward-walking-potato]

Little Dove pt4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  

My promo was Rockstar AU and Dangerous woman by Ariana grande

So I wrote this for @caplansteverogers writing challenge.

Thank you so much to @everythingiwritesucksoop for reading though and helping me edit things x 

Summary: You’re at the height of your career and you were becoming one of the best pop singer in America but what happens when your path crosses with a certain Rockstar.

Warnings - mentions drinking 

Y/N - your name, Y/L/N- your last names

Please leave feedback - 🥔💕

You know how they say ‘the calm before the storm’? That’s exactly how it felt as you walked up the stairs to your apartment, where you knew the Grandmaster would be waiting. It was 6 am—his usual time to appear with a glass of green juice and a bottle of vitamins. "It keeps your throat clear and free of bacteria," he always said, but every time you took a sip of that green sludge, you wanted to vomit.

Bingo. There he was, sprawled out on your couch, green smoothie and vitamins in front of him. “Oh, my darling Y/N, I cannot believe he kidnapped you like that. He’s a vile man, Y/N. We’ll inform the police right away.”

Here’s the thing: the Grandmaster was a master at bullshitting, twisting situations to his advantage, regardless of who got hurt in the process.

“That really won’t be necessary. I went willingly, and it was my idea. If you call the police, that’s exactly what I’ll tell them.” One night of freedom, and you were already speaking up for yourself. Judging by the look on the Grandmaster’s face as you walked straight past him to your room, he was just as shocked. Loki’s words from last night must have really made an impact.

———Flashback to Last Night———

“Loki, I love this song! Dance with me, you promised we’d dance.” You giggled, a bit tipsy from the shots you’d done with a nice lady named Sif. Stumbling over to his table, you grabbed his arm, separating him from Heimdall, who cheered as you led Loki to the center of the dance floor.

“More Than a Woman” by the Bee Gees played through the speakers as you wrapped your arms around Loki’s neck, him doing the same around your waist. “Oh, my sweet little dove, how can you like this song? It’s ridiculously cheesy,” he laughed, resting his forehead against yours and tightening his grip on your waist.

“My little caged bird, so beautiful and trapped, unable to spread your wings and see the world beyond the bars. Next time you want to spread your wings, call me, okay? Don’t let him clip your wings; they’re too beautiful for that.” His breath tickled your neck as he whispered those sweet words to you.

———End of Flashback———

You spent the rest of the morning flipping through TV channels, waiting for something to catch your eye. And something certainly did. Stopping on E! News, you noticed a photograph of you and a country singer the Grandmaster had once introduced you to. The headline read, "Jeff aka the Grandmaster confirms Y/N’s engagement to Jesse Page."

The room started spinning as they played a phone call with the Grandmaster confirming the engagement. You knew there was only one thing you could do. “Loki, I need you.”

If you were his dove, then he was your raven—slightly mischievous but always knowing the exact thing to do. It took him only ten minutes to appear in front of your apartment, where he had dropped you off just a few hours ago. But you sounded desperate on the phone, so he made sure to get there as quickly as possible.

You didn’t care if the Grandmaster was still in your apartment. You didn’t stop to look. You just ran out as fast as you could, wanting to be wrapped up in the wings of your raven.

[headfullofpresley]

AAAAH I'M LITERALLY OBSESSED!!!!! 😍

jess, this is sooo adorable- i love it so much. this is a vibe. AND THE MUSICAL NOTES! oh lordy, the musical notes..🥺 isn't he just the most?

i can't wait until i'm able to be in your room. i don't think i'll ever want to leave again. 💕

🎶💖🎵 my heart is anywhere you are, anywhere you are is home I don’t need a mansion on a hill that overlooks the sea, anywhere you’re with me is home 🎶💖🎵

finally got around to re-doing my door (my beloved sisi is still safe and beautiful in her box, just moved!), and mostly took these for @headfullofpresley because she wanted to see how they turned out! 💕💕💕

elvis’ guitar from graceland started on the wall, but we couldn’t get it to hang quite the way we wanted to, and it’s so adorable on top of the box! initially it was here (tam, these are the musical notes 🥺):

his cute little lip curl smile now greeting me whenever i come in or out of my room, sooooooo true: