m34tthews

[m34tthews]

CHAPTER TEN

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 11.7k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes

an — i hope everyone is doing well staying happy and healthy 🩵

masterlist

she had packed. then unpacked. then packed again—because apparently indecision had decided to take up residence in her brain for the last twenty-four hours. every sundress and bikini felt like a test she hadn’t studied for. too revealing? too casual? would she look out of place if she was the only one fully covered at the beach? she hated how the questions spiraled, but here she was, knee-deep in a pile of clothes that looked like a color-coordinated breakdown on her bedroom floor.

meanwhile, auston was the picture of ease—lounged back on his elbows against the headboard, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. his suitcase sat by the door, neat and zipped and probably containing exactly what he needed without an ounce of overthinking.

she glanced at it for the hundredth time and felt a stab of envy. how was he so damn efficient?

it had to be his job. traveling every other week, living out of hotel rooms and team buses. he could probably pack in his sleep, toss random things in a bag and still manage to look like a damn ad campaign on vacation.

he peeked over the edge of his phone, watching her glare at her overstuffed suitcase like it had personally offended her. his lips twitched.

“you’re doing it again,” he said finally.

“what?” she asked, distracted, wrestling with a zipper that refused to cooperate.

“overthinking.” his tone was lazy but fond, the word stretched out like a gentle tease. he tossed his phone to the side and pushed himself up on his elbows. “seriously, babe. i’ve seen you stare at that bag for, like, a week.”

she huffed, shooting him a half-hearted glare before looking back at the suitcase. “i’ve never had to categorize my clothes depending on meeting my boyfriend’s entire family.” her voice was playful, but the tightness in her shoulders gave her away.

“baby,” he said, calm like he was soothing a skittish animal. “you packed fine. maybe…” his eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head, “…a few more gifts for me.”

she shot him a look. “gifts?”

“yeah,” he grinned slowly, leaning forward. “like your undivided attention. zero stress. lots of nakedness.”

her mouth fell open in mock horror. “auston.”

“what?” he said innocently, shrugging a shoulder. “just thinking of ways to maximize our quality time before we’re knee-deep in family dinners.”

she brushed him off with a wave, but her lips curved slightly—betraying her. before she could retreat back into her packing crisis, he reached out and caught her hand, tugging gently until she toppled toward him.

“auston—”

“shh.” he guided her onto his thigh like she belonged there, and honestly? she did. perched sideways on his lap, her knees brushing his, her arms looping around his neck without even thinking.

“i just want them to like me,” she admitted softly, fingers playing with the hair that curled at his nape. her voice lost its earlier teasing edge, and he felt it—that little dip into vulnerability she didn’t show often.

“they will,” he said immediately, no hesitation in his tone.

“you keep saying that,” she murmured, chewing her lip. “but what if i accidentally put my foot in my mouth and offend your entire extended family? i’ll never be able to show my face in mexico again. they all know me as the girl who—”

“who what?” he cut in, fighting a laugh.

“i don’t know, auston!” she threw her hands up, exasperated. “the girl who hates cilantro or something ridiculous. the girl who—god forbid—doesn't chop vegetables the right way.“

that did it—he lost it, laughter spilling out before he could hold it back. the sound rolled warm through the room, and she smacked his chest lightly.

“thank you for laughing at me. some boyfriend you are,” she grumbled, trying to slide off his lap.

but he was faster. his arms looped around her waist and hauled her right back, hugging her close until her back hit his chest and his chin rested on her shoulder.

“you’re just so cute when you have an existential crisis,” he teased, his voice muffled against her skin as he pressed a quick kiss to her jaw.

“i’m serious!” she said, but her smile was already tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“so am i.” he turned her face toward his, lips brushing hers as he spoke. “they’re going to love you. because you are incredible and anyone who has the privleage of knowing you is lucky.”

her breath stilled. not because she didn’t believe him—but because those words? they hung heavy between them, warm and unspoken until now. before she could respond, he kissed her. slow, steady, reassuring—like sealing a promise.

and just like that, the worry unraveled, replaced with something softer, something she couldn’t name without getting lost in him.

when they finally broke apart, her voice was barely above a whisper. “you know what would make your girlfriend happy?”

he arched a brow, still grinning against her lips. “what’s that?”

she pointed toward the suitcase with a dramatic sigh. “get your gorgeous behind over there and sit on it so it closes.”

auston laughed, shaking his head, but stood anyway—because for her? yeah, he’d sit on every damn suitcase in the world.

the plane wasn’t huge, but it was private—sleek leather seats, soft gold lighting, and enough legroom to make her laugh when auston joked about “finally having space for my legs.” she had never flown private before, and honestly, it felt surreal.

his family filled the cabin with an easy kind of noise—soft chatter, laughter, the rustle of carry-ons. his mom was already passing out snacks like they were on a school trip. his sisters argued over who got which window seat even though there were more than enough, their voices overlapping in playful bickering.

auston guided her down the aisle with a warm hand at the small of her back, his touch steady, grounding.

“this okay?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her spine as she took in the rows of plush seats and tall tinted windows.

“yeah,” she said, smiling faintly as she slid into a seat near the back. this time, there was no tension thrumming through her—just that quiet buzz of excitement, the kind that comes when you know you’re about to make a memory.

auston dropped down beside her, tossing his hat onto the empty seat across from them, stretching those ridiculously long legs like he owned the place. which, to be fair, he kind of did.

she pulled out her phone, flipping to sudoku like it was second nature.

“seriously?” his voice dipped with amusement. “we’re on a private jet to mexico and you’re doing math for fun?”

“logic,” she corrected primly. “it’s logic, not math.”

he stared. “you’re such a grandma.”

“and you’re in my business,” she shot back, filling in a 7 without looking up.

“whatever,” he said casually—then started lowering his massive frame onto her.

“what are you—” her words cut off in a squeak as he sprawled sideways across the two seats, half on her lap, half on her torso, like a human weighted blanket.

“auston!” she shoved at his shoulder, but he was already settling in, head tucked against her neck. “get off!”

“nope,” he said, voice muffled against her skin. “this is my seat now.”

“your seat is right there.”

“my seat,” he repeated, nuzzling like a smug golden retriever. “is wherever you are.”

“you’re ridiculous. we are literally on a ninety-minute flight.”

“perfect amount of time for a nap,” he murmured—and then kissed her jaw, quick and soft, before moving to her cheek. then another. and another.

“stop,” she hissed, squirming, laughter spilling despite her best efforts. “you family is watching you smother me”

“good,” he said between kisses. “let them see how obsessed i am with my girlfriend.”

from across the aisle, his mom laughed out loud. “auston, give the poor girl space.”

“he doesn’t understand the concept,” y/n muttered, cheeks warm as she tried to shield her screen with her hand.

“she loves it,” he called back without lifting his head. he just grinned, completely unbothered. “you love it.” he said to her

“no, stop,” she protested weakly, even as she let him settle there, one arm curled around her waist like he’d secured the ultimate victory.

“mhm,” he hummed, trailing his lips across her cheekbone. “tell me you easy me to move and i’ll leave.”

“i want you to move.” she said directlyZ

“liar.” his grin curved against her skin, followed by another kiss—slower this time, like he was proving a point.

“auston!” she tried again, her voice cracking on a laugh as she shoved his chest. “you’re crushing me.”

“worth it.” he burrowed deeper, his weight heavy and warm, his arm snaking around her waist like he had zero plans to move. “god, this is comfy. i could live here.”

“oh my god,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as his lips brushed her temple. “you’re so annoying.”

“and irresistible,” he mumbled, already sounding half-asleep—though his hand started tracing idle circles against her hip, making it impossible to believe he was anywhere near sleep.

she tried to focus on her sudoku, holding her phone above his head like this was fine. normal. completely under control.

he just grinned, completely unbothered. “you love it.”

“do not,” she argued weakly, even as she let him settle there, one arm curled around her waist like he’d secured the ultimate victory.

“mhm,” he hummed, already sounding half-asleep as his lashes brushed her neck. “like i said — nap time.”

“napping? the flight is literally an hour and a half,” she said, rolling her eyes, refocusing on her sudoku board like she wasn’t melting inside.

he stayed quiet for all of two minutes before cracking one eye open. “what’s a nine doing there? that doesn’t look right.”

“stop backseat sudoku-ing me.”

“i’m just saying,” he teased, voice low and lazy, “i think your logic might be flawed.”

“close your eyes,” she said sweetly.

“can’t,” he murmured, lips curving against her skin. “too busy watching my hot girlfriend do… whatever this is.”

“it’s called being smart,” she shot back.

“hot and smart,” he said, eyes slipping shut now. “god, i hit the jackpot.”

and even though she pretended to ignore him, biting back a smile as she filled in the next number, her free hand found its way into his hair, fingertips tracing slow circles against his scalp.

and even if, she didn’t say it out loud. not yet. but as her hand slid into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp while he melted into her side like gravity pulled him there, she couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t true.

they didn’t even realize how short the flight had been until his mom started waking everyone for descent, gently nudging auston and smiling when she saw y/n curled up against him, fast asleep.

the air in mexico hit warm and sweet as they stepped off the plane. his sisters were already buzzing about the weather, the food they couldn’t wait to eat, and y/n found herself swept into the flow so easily — walking beside auston’s mom as she pointed out the palm trees and said how good it was to be back.

auston stayed close behind her, fingers grazing the small of her back, eyes lingering every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe she was really here with him. she glanced back once, catching the look he was giving her — soft, kind of awestruck — and her heart fluttered.

“what?” she teased under her breath.

he just smiled. “mexico suits you, baby.”

“i haven’t even been here twenty minutes.”

“doesn’t matter.” his hand found hers again. “this feels… right.”

and she couldn’t disagree. not when his sisters linked arms with her as they walked toward the waiting car. not when his mom offered her a piece of gum and told her she was going to be obsessed with the food, and not when auston helped her into the backseat and kept their fingers linked the whole ride into town.

this wasn’t just a vacation. or a well deserved break from her job. not really.

like everything else between them, it felt like more. a testament to their relationship progression is such little time and maybe that's why even when it feels fast, it also feels like they are making up for lost time.

the front door hadn’t even fully opened before auston and y/n were swallowed by the sounds of excited chatter, the scuff of sneakers on tile, and the overwhelming scent of something mouthwatering coming from the kitchen.

“auston’s here!” one of the younger cousins yelled, feet already moving toward him at full speed. in seconds, he was surrounded by kids hugging his legs, tugging on his shirt, trying to climb onto his back.

he laughed, already crouching to greet them properly. “you guys get bigger every time i see you,” he said, ruffling their hair, giving out daps and playful nudges. “what are they feeding you down here, huh?”

y/n stood beside him, eyes wide and soft all at once, heart melting at the sight. his sisters joined the chaos, hugging cousins, greeting aunts and uncles with kisses to the cheek and familiar warmth.

then came his abuela.

small in stature but commanding the entire room with a single glance, she walked in wearing an apron and a dishtowel over her shoulder, her silver hair tied back neatly. the room quieted for a breath as she made her way through, offering kisses and light slaps to the heads of grown grandchildren and muttering affectionate scolds about shoes on her floors.

when she reached auston, she cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “mi niño,” she said, voice full of love. “mírate nada más.” look at you.

“te extrañé, abuelita.” i missed you, grandma.

her eyes sparkled before they slid over to y/n, curiosity blooming across her face. “¿y tú? ¿quién eres tú, mi amor?” and you? who are you, my love?

auston opened his mouth, but before he could speak, y/n smiled and took a small step forward.

“soy y/n. mucho gusto, señora. gracias por recibirme en su casa.” i’m y/n. it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. thank you for welcoming me into your home.

he froze at her voice. his mind not computing the language that fell from his girlfriend's lips. auston blinked like someone had unplugged him from reality.

his grandma’s face broke into a beaming smile, eyes crinkling with joy as she reached out to hug y/n warmly. “¡pero qué hermosa! y tan educada. me encanta.” how beautiful! and so polite. i love her.

y/n blushed, letting herself be pulled into the embrace, her voice softer now. “tus nietas y tu hija se llevaron claramente tu belleza,... y también auston.” your granddaughters and daughter clearly took your beauty,... and also auston

his grandmother laughed brightly, holding her at arm’s length to get a better look at her. “¡ay, qué lengua tan dulce! este niño tiene suerte. ¿cómo la conseguiste, mijo?” oh, such a sweet tongue! this boy is lucky. how did you get her, son?

auston just stood there, stunned, eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead. asking himself the same question

his grandma got pulled away by one of the aunts, who needed her help finishing up in the kitchen. “guarden hambre, ya casi está la comida,” she said to everyone. save your appetite, the food is almost ready.

when she disappeared, auston finally turned to y/n, still blinking in disbelief. “you speak spanish?”

y/n shrugged casually, brushing some hair behind her ear. “intermediate. i minored in it during undergrad… figured it’d be helpful with clients who didn’t speak english.”

he stared at her. “and you never thought to mention this?”

“your mom knew,” she teased.

he whipped his head around to look at his mom, who was standing just behind them. she only smirked and offered him a sly wink before disappearing into the house.

“you guys plotted this,” he said, narrowing his eyes at y/n.

she giggled, bumping his shoulder with hers. “plotted? no. planned? maybe.”

he stared at her for a long second, gaze slow and heavy and full of something he didn’t say aloud. pride, affection, awe.

“you keep surprising me,” he said quietly.

"i have to keep you on your toes. can't let you know all my secrets, baby.”

he leaned down then, pressed a kiss to her cheek. “well, you, the jack of all trades, just won over the head of the family.”

"i can't let up now, can i? i better go through my drive for my college notes”

“no need,” he smiled. “she already loves you.”

“well thank god,” y/n said with a small smirk, slipping her hand into his. “because i really, really like it here.”

“just wait till you try her aguachile,” he said, lacing their fingers. “then you’ll never want to leave.”

she laughed, letting herself be pulled into the house, fingers snug in his, heart warmer than the sun baking the courtyard behind them.

he nudged the door closed behind them as they slipped deeper into the house, still holding her hand, fingers curled snug around hers like he wasn’t quite ready to let go—not after that.

“so,” auston murmured as they rounded the corner into the hallway, voices and laughter from the kitchen still trailing behind them, “you know what this means now, right?”

she glanced at him, raising a brow. “what?”

“you’re basically locked in.”

she blinked at him.

“like—legally. the boss loves you. my grandma hugged you longer than she hugged me. you're definitely gonna have to marry in now.”

y/n laughed, her mouth falling open in mock shock. “oh, wow. just like that?”

he nodded solemnly, as if this were some ancient unwritten law. “no escaping now. grandma approved means it's done. sealed.”

she tilted her head at him, a teasing glint in her eye. “hmm. well, you got any hot cousins?”

he blinked—once, slow and exaggerated, more for dramatic effect than anything else.

she didn’t even wait. “might as well weigh my options if i’m marrying into the family.”

he stopped walking. just full-on halted, eyes narrowed.

“watch it,” he muttered, low and amused—and then without warning, he smacked her ass lightly, a sharp little pat with just enough follow-through to make her squeal and swat at him, laughing as she pulled away.

“auston!”

“don’t go flirting with my bloodline,” he said smugly, hands sliding into his pockets as he caught up with her again, clearly pleased with himself. “you know that ass is off-limits to anyone but me.”

she gave him a look over her shoulder, smirking. “then you better behvae.”

he caught her wrist gently, pulling her back into his side as they stepped into the living room where his sisters were chatting with cousins and the rest of the house hummed with energy.

he leaned down, voice brushing her ear.

“i’m already planning the wedding,” he said, low and playful. “and you don’t even wanna know what i’m picturing for the honeymoon.”

she gave him a side-eye, biting down a grin before leaning up and whispering back, “if you’re lucky, i’ll wear some of the stuff you saw in my drawer.”

his breath caught just slightly—just enough.

“okay,” he said, swallowing. “i’m gonna need a cold drink and a five-minute break to recalibrate.”

and she laughed—light and bright—before tugging him further into the house and into the thick of family, right where they both wanted to be.

the sun was high and beaming, casting lazy shadows over the backyard while the sound of kids screaming with joy echoed across the grass. somewhere between the half-worn goalposts and overturned patio chairs, y/n darted barefoot down the patchy lawn, breathless with laughter, bre on her left, alex on her right, all of them dodging a flurry of little bodies charging at them like human bulldozers.

“we are so winning this,” bre called out, pulling off a fancy little foot trick before booting the soccer ball toward an empty net.

“we’re not even keeping score!” y/n shouted back, nearly tripping over a rogue sandal in the grass.

“yeah,” alex giggled, “but the kids are, and we’re killing it.”

then came the ambush.

one of the cousins screamed, “get the girls!” and suddenly, a wave of children tackled y/n from behind—arms looping around her waist, legs clinging like vines, one tiny set of hands even tugging at her ponytail. she hit the grass with a shriek, barely getting the wind to laugh as bre and alex were taken down beside her in the same breathless chaos.

“you traitors!” she wheezed to the kids, rolling over to tickle the closest one. they all screamed in delight.

auston watched it all from the grill.

his sisters’ voices were bright over the noise, shrieking and giggling. y/n, sprawled out in the grass, had strands sticking up from the kids’ attack and dirt smudged on her knees—and looked happier than he’d ever seen her.

his heart clenched.

“she’s good with them,” his mom said gently, flipping a skewer of grilled pineapple over the flames. “really natural.”

“yup,” his dad added with a fond grunt. “one of the girls already called her tía. it was adorable.”

auston smiled despite himself, hand braced on the side of the grill. “she’s always been good with kids. coaches her nieces and nephews when they need her and babysits every week. of course, animals, too.”

his mom leaned closer to him, eyes sharp, knowing. “and you.”

he coughed. “what?”

she didn’t budge. “i've never seen you like this. with so much love in your eyes. even your sisters see it.”

auston huffed. “okay, relax. i’m not—”

“auston,” she interrupted with that mom voice, “you love her.”

his throat dried up. “we’ve only been together a few months.”

“doesn’t mean you don’t,” she said simply. “sometimes you just know.”

he turned away slightly, watching y/n through the rising smoke from the grill—how she tried to outrun the kids again only to be taken down by bre. her laughter spilled across the yard like sunshine. he felt it in his ribs.

“she’s… different,” he murmured. “feels different. i love it. i love being with her.”

his dad chimed in softly. “so what’s stopping you from saying it?”

he stayed quiet for a long moment.

then, quietly: “fall’s coming.”

his mom’s hand stilled over the tray of buns. “you don’t think she’d do long distance?”

“i don’t know,” auston said honestly, still watching her, still aching with it. “we haven’t talked much in detail. i keep telling her not to think so far ahead and kill herself overthinking. that we’ll discuss it when the time comes. i want to try. i really do. but it’s been so good here, and i’m already mourning it. mourning not having her in the room. her laughing at my dumb texts. walks with her and felix. her doing nothing and still making it feel like everything.”

"have you asked her to come with you?"

he turned to gauge his mom’s facial expression, stunned by the seriousness in her tone.

“mom. you know i can’t,” he replied, breaking her gaze, because she knew him too well.

“well, why not? i moved for your father,” she said, her voice soft but firm, the kind of conviction that came from living it. her love story with his dad wasn’t just a tale—it was proof of what trusting the right person could mean.

“she has her roots in arizona. her job, her friends, her family. she was just tearing up about going to her niece’s first day of school next month.”

“mi hijo,” she said gently, “you never know what she thinks until you ask. you’re in love with her, and it’s clear she loves you too. think about all you’d do for her. you owe it to the both of you to ask these questions about your future.”

“it’s too soon. i don’t want to scare her. starting october, i won’t be home much. even if she does move, she’ll be alone in a different country, in a city she knows nothing about. i can’t ask that of her.”

“that’s your life, auston. you showed her your life here—why not there?”

he dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard. his mom wasn’t going to let this go, especially when she’d never seen him this light, this happy—not since he was a kid in her kitchen, grinning with syrup all over his cheeks.

“i just… want to enjoy these last weeks before i have to prepare to leave in september.”

his mom touched his shoulder, grounding him. “don’t mourn something that hasn’t ended. talk to her. you two might surprise each other.”

a gust of wind pushed through the yard, shaking the trees, rustling the napkins. y/n looked up then, as if sensing him watching, and smiled—big and wide, flushed with sun and joy.

and he smiled back, even as something in his chest cracked open with the weight of everything he hadn’t said yet.

and auston thought — he was deep in it. all the way.

even if it hurt a little, he’d rather have something worth missing than nothing at all.

the long table overflowed with food—bowls of rice and beans passed down like heirlooms, roasted vegetables glistening with oil and love, meat carved and still steaming, stacks of tortillas nestled under clean dish towels. the air was warm and heavy with the scent of garlic and spice and laughter. someone’s cousin had already spilled soda twice. children weaved beneath the table, limbs tangled in tablecloths, giggling as they crawled across the tiles. someone’s tía was arguing playfully with a tío over who made the better salsa this year.

and in the middle of it all, auston sat on one end of the table, and y/n on the other. their eyes found each other in the noise.

his grandmother, small and commanding in her soft-pressed blouse, stood at the head of the table and raised her hands. the room went still like magic.

"vamos a dar gracias," she said, her voice warm and reverent. “por esta comida. por el amor. por la familia que nos rodea. por los nuevos rostros y las nuevas bendiciones. que dios nos siga uniendo.”

let’s give thanks. for this food. for the love. for the family that surrounds us. for the new faces and new blessings. may god continue to bring us together.

auston lowered his head as her voice moved through him, like something sacred pressed into his spine. he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until it slipped out through his nose, gentle and slow.

and when he looked up, she was already looking at him.

across the long table, with the noise folding back in and the passing of plates starting again, y/n blinked at him, something soft blooming in her chest. her fingers lingered against her water glass. his smile was small, quiet, just for her. but it held something sturdy in it, something like this is real, and i feel it, too.

in her thoughts, everything slowed. the clatter of forks dulled. the food lost its pull for a moment.

it was the way she felt seated here among people who knew him better than anyone else ever had, and yet… she didn’t feel like an outsider. she didn’t feel like she was trying too hard. there was no pretense. no pretending. she wasn’t their daughter, their sister, their niece—but she was still theirs, somehow. welcomed with warm smiles and questions about her life and what desserts she liked best. his mom had insisted she sit closer to her, and his sisters kept pulling her into inside jokes like she’d always been there.

she felt... surrounded. grounded. like she’d been woven into something that had existed long before her, and instead of bouncing off, she had stuck. nestled in.

and then there was auston.

auston who had taken her hand earlier in the kitchen when she was nervously deciding what dish to bring to the table. auston who kept sending her little glances now, eyes unreadable except for how tender they always felt. auston who always made room for her—on planes, in beds, in rooms that weren’t even his to begin with. in his life.

he held her gaze now like he was reading every thought in her head. she couldn’t help but smile, tiny and warm, dipping her chin before biting into a piece of bread.

auston watched her, his hand still resting over his plate like he’d forgotten it. his heart tugged again, hard this time, in a way that didn’t scare him anymore.

it had always been like this with her. quiet, but full. simple, but impossibly heavy with meaning. and right now—here, surrounded by the roots of his life—he wasn’t thinking about fall. or how complicated it all might get. he was just thinking about her, seated beside his mother, laughing at a cousin’s joke, mouthing you okay? when a child nearly tipped an entire jug of juice.

and he thought,. this is what it means to be home. even as life goes by at the speed of light. when home becomes a person.

his grandmother reached over and passed him another serving of rice, and when he looked up again, y/n was already watching him.

this time, he didn’t look away.

the car ride from the city to the quieter side of town felt like a lullaby. warm, sweet, and slow.

y/n was nestled into auston’s side, her cheek resting against the soft stretch of his shirt, giving up on trying to resist his arms around her, her hand loosely tangled with his fingers in her lap. the backseat was filled to the brim—felix in the floorboard, his tail occasionally thumping against the seat, bre softly humming along to a song on the radio, alex scrolling on her phone and chiming in whenever a funny group chat message came through. his parents were up front, murmuring about how much food they’d brought back in tupperware, already planning lunch for tomorrow.

auston leaned back, his arm secure around y/n’s waist, and dipped his chin to kiss the top of her head.

“you good?” he murmured near her temple.

“mmhmm,” she hummed, sleep-thick and content. “stuffed. your grandma might’ve tried to kill me with culinary skills"

he smiled. “she does that. considers it a love language.”

“well, i feel very loved,” she murmured, her lips curling against his collarbone.

the streets slowly grew quieter, more spaced out, palm trees sweeping shadows across the road as they left the denser part of town. it was only when they pulled up to the house that y/n stirred, eyes widening a bit as the headlights washed over the driveway.

“okay,” she breathed. “this is not what i was expecting.”

auston smirked as they all piled out. “what were you expecting?”

“i don't know. maybe something like, hey, this is the house we got for summer barbecues, no big deal. not—” she gestured. “—an entire villa with a massive iron gate and a palm-lined pool.”

he looked smug. “you like it?”

“yeah,” she said, brushing past him with a smile. “i do.”

the inside was just as stunning—high archways, exposed beams, tiled floors cool against bare feet, and open windows that let the night breeze in. the kind of house that felt open enough for laughter to carry, but warm enough to feel like home.

his parents claimed the master like it was second nature, and y/n followed auston down a hall toward his room, their fingers brushing lazily between them.

when he opened the door, she paused in the threshold.

“of course,” she said under her breath.

the room was nearly the size of her apartment. high ceilings. plush bedding. soft lights. a wooden dresser with a full mirror mounted right across from the foot of the bed.

“subtle,” she deadpanned.

he raised a brow, tossing his bag toward the closet. “what?”

“the mirror,” she said, wandering inside, toeing off her shoes.

he smirked. “what about it?”

“real humble of you to put it right in front of the bed.”

he stretched, arms overhead, walking past her until he was behind her again. his hands found her waist, slipping under the hem of her shirt with a familiar ease. “came with the room,” he murmured against her ear. “but now that you mention it... it does make a good angle.”

she elbowed him gently, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips.

“don’t think i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” she said.

“what, appreciate you?” he teased, lips brushing her jaw now. “hard not to. you looked good tonight.”

“you looked at me like you wanted to devour me tonight,” she countered, turning toward him. “but guess what, i’m holding out.”

his brows shot up. “holding out?”

“yup.” she stepped back, smug now. “i meant what i said about not sleeping with you under your parents roof. think of it as a challenge. you said two weeks. let’s see who breaks first.”

"technically, it's my roof," he lowered his voice, knowing the hierarchy in the house still had his parents at the top. he narrowed his eyes, stalking toward her with deliberate slowness. “you've reached new level of cruel”

“i’m respectful.”

“you’re bluffing.”

she crossed her arms. “wanna bet?”

he got in close, hands settling on her hips, his mouth ghosting over hers. “you really wanna play this game, baby?”

“i’m not scared of you,” she whispered, breath catching as he tilted her chin.

he smiled, eyes hooded, voice dropping low. “you should be. i am competitive to a fault”

but instead of kissing her, he pulled back, smirking as he peeled off his shirt and tossed it at her like a white flag—or maybe a threat.

“get cozy,” he said, heading for the bathroom. “it’s gonna be a long trip.”

she watched him go, her heart thudding stupidly, heat rising in her cheeks as she looked toward the mirror—and maybe, just maybe, imagined what it would reflect in a few days.

or maybe sooner.

the kitchen smelled like warm butter and toast and something sweeter underneath—maybe guava jam, or whatever homemade blend ema had pulled from the fridge earlier when y/n had tiptoed in barefoot, sleep-blurred but already wide awake thanks to her stubborn body clock.

the sun was still low, golden fingers streaking across the tile. a fan hummed in the corner. ema moved through the kitchen like she was born into it, sleeves rolled, voice soft with laughter as she cracked another egg and passed y/n the whisk.

“you’re up early,” ema smiled, looking toward the pile of diced fruit y/n had already assembled. “he told me you don’t like sitting still.”

y/n laughed under her breath. “you’re not wrong. i think it’s just nerves. i’ve never been on a trip like this before.”

ema nudged her lightly with her hip. “you mean a vacation with a boy who’s head over heels for you?”

“i mean a trip with someone who’s mom is as cool as you,” y/n dodged, but her grin gave her away.

ema gave her a pointed look. “mhm. my son talks about you all the time, you know.”

y/n tilted her head, surprised. “he does?”

“he tries to play it cool. but whenever he talks to us, i know. it’s in the tone. that stupid grin he gets when you send a picture. your mom and dad—adorable, by the way—we’ve known them for years through the league. but this is the first time we’ve ever seen auston really bring someone home.”

y/n looked down at the whisk. “it’s been fast.” she paused, before clarifying, "but in the best way."

ema handed her the pan like it was a baton in some ceremonial rite of passage. “sometimes fast means it's right.”

there was a lull, gentle and warm, as they cooked side by side. she couldn’t help but feel the stretch of comfort wrap around her shoulders like a blanket.

“so today,” ema said, wiping her hands on a towel. “the plan is tennis and then dinner here. bre and alex already packed the bags. would you like to play?”

y/n made a face. “i’m awful. like… comically bad. i might trip over myself"

ema grinned. “perfect. you’re on my team.”

y/n laughed, already feeling her nerves melt. “are you sure?”

“if you keep helping me with breakfast, i might make you my daughter-in-law by the end of the trip.”

y/n choked on her orange juice, but was still laughing when the door creaked open behind them.

auston walked in, shirtless, hair messy and eyes still heavy with sleep. he rubbed his hand over his jaw before leaning over to kiss his mom’s cheek.

“smells good.”

“don’t suck up. y/n beat you to it so you already losing,” ema said, swatting him with the towel.

he blinked. “losing what?”

“tennis later. y/n is joining us and she'll be teaming up with me."

auston’s head turned to her immediately. she could feel it. the weight of his sleepy glare behind her. she didn’t even have to turn around.

“traitor,” he said, voice rasping.

she shrugged innocently, sliding a plate of eggs onto the table. “your mom offered. who am i to say no?”

he came up behind her then, slow and deliberate, arms wrapping around her waist with that same lazy possessiveness she’d grown far too used to. she could feel the heat of his bare chest through the thin fabric of her sleep shirt. his chin dropped to her shoulder.

“morning,” he murmured, voice low, lips brushing just under her jaw.

“uh-huh,” she said, trying to focus on the fruit salad.

“still holding out?” he whispered, teeth barely grazing her ear.

her stomach flipped, at the feeling of his body pressed flush against her back. his raspy voice, causing goosebumps to spread across her skin.

“desperately,” she whispered back, smirking.

“so am i,” he said, letting go with a groan. “this is torture.”

“poor baby,” y/n teased, leaning into him just enough to make him groan again.

“i’m going to wake bre and alex,” ema said, walking off with a knowing smirk.

once she was out of earshot, auston caught y/n’s hand.

“if this is a challenge, what’s the score so far?”he asked.

“one-zero, me,” she grinned. “you can't keep your hands to yourself.”

“you literally kissed me, with tongue by the way, under the covers last night before rolling over and saying goodnight.”

“exactly. and you were the one moaning like it killed you.”

he stared at her, then let his eyes slowly drag down her body. “you wear that shirt again to bed and we’re both gonna lose.”

“tempting,” she smiled, tugging the plate of fruit toward her. “but i like winning.”

“well,” he muttered again, sitting across from her and biting into a piece of pineapple. "seems like you met your match”

“we’ll see,” he said with a small smirk, snagging a piece of melon from the bowl. “it's a long game, baby.”

she shot him a warning look just as ema returned, threatening them both with a spatula again. but beneath it all, the spark was still there—contained, yes, but unmistakably alive between them.

she winked. “get ready for tennis, baby"

the sun was already blazing when they made their way to the tennis court near the house. it was a public one, tucked in a small park with faded lines and a few chipped benches on the sidelines, but it was perfect — surrounded by trees, a breeze winding through, and already filled with laughter.

y/n adjusted her borrowed visor, standing beside ema who looked suspiciously competitive for someone in sandals. “so… just a reminder i have no hand-eye coordination,” she whispered.

“perfect,” ema grinned. “i do.”

across the net, auston was already bouncing the tennis ball with his racket, stretching lazily in his athletic tee and shorts, looking like he was taking this way too seriously for a friendly family game.

“you good over there, superstar?” y/n called across.

auston grinned, glancing at his sister alex. “we’re good. you better pray my serve’s rusty.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time,” she shot back before freezing. “wait. that came out wrong.”

brian and bre — already warming up on the court beside them for their own singles match — cracked up.

“y/n, let me know if you need a sub or just twice if you’re in danger,” bre called, twirling her racket like a pro.

“i’m fine!” y/n yelled back, holding up her hand. “i have ema!”

ema smiled sweetly. “he underestimates us. always has.”

“traitor,” auston muttered from his side of the net. “i see how it is.”

“mothers always side with the ones who cook with them,” ema said, flipping her racket once before stepping forward to serve.

the match began and it was… chaos in the most delightful way.

ema? surgical precision. like an assassin with a racket. athleticism clearly running in the family starting with the matriarch. y/n? not so much. she ran for every ball, missed half, and apologized while doing it.

“sorry!” she yelled for the fifth time after completely whiffing an easy return.

“stop apologizing!” ema called out, jogging to cover the backhand. “you’re distracting me with guilt!”

meanwhile, auston was playing like he had something to prove, swinging hard and yelling “let’s go!” after every point. alex was snickering, barely having to move, letting her brother burn himself out.

“you’re playing like it’s game seven!” y/n yelled at him after another near-ace zipped past her.

“i told you i wouldn't go easy on you” he said with a cocky shrug.

“he wants to humble you,” bre muttered to brian between serves.

“he’s gonna pull a hamstring doing it,” brian replied.

“ready?” ema asked y/n gently, squeezing her shoulder before stepping forward again.

“emotionally, no. physically, never. but let’s do it anyway.”

on the next volley, ema lobbed a perfect drop shot over the net and y/n, miraculously, made contact—sending it spinning down the sideline and shocking everyone.

“yes!” she screamed, arms in the air. “i contributed something!”

ema gave her a double high five while auston stood with his hands on his hips, blinking.

“okay,” he said slowly. “you just earned a serve straight to you.”

“you wouldn’t,” she said, backing away.

he bounced the ball. “i would. and i will.”

from the sidelines, brian shouted, "auston, be nice”

“yeah! be nice, auston” y/n repeated, only adding to his desire to punish her. not only for the game, but their bet .

then he served. hard. she shrieked and dove, the ball sailing past her as she flailed and tripped over her feet."

“baby, are you okay?” auston called, clearly trying not to laugh.

“okay!” y/n yelled, dramatically tossing her racket to the side like it betrayed her. “i concede. i surrender. i lose this war”

laughter erupted from both courts. bre actually bent over, holding her stomach. “oh my god, you lasted longer than i thought.”

“speak for yourself,” y/n said, fanning her face as she trudged to the side. “i think i saw god on that last serve.”

auston, of course, was leaning against the net post, shirt discarded somewhere after things got competitive — his skin glistening, hair pushed back with sweat. the moment she met his eyes, he raised a single brow, smug.

“so that’s it?” he teased, walking toward her slowly, towel draped around his neck. “you’re giving up?”

“i prefer the term ‘strategic retreat,’” she said, reaching for her water. “and let’s be real, i got carried by ema as far as i could.”

ema, still running after one of the younger cousins who wanted to be the ball boy, yelled from afar, “i've been carrying this whole family on my back!”

y/n laughed before turning her attention back to auston, who was hovering now, too pleased with himself.

“you’re not even gonna play anymore?” he asked, folding his arms, biceps on obnoxious display.

“nope.” she took a long sip of water and smirked. “but i am gonna torture you.”

he blinked. “what?”

“revenge,” she said sweetly, eyes glinting. “for trying to behead me. and for showing off. and for this—” she gestured broadly to his bare chest. “—being a distraction.”

“i wasn’t showing off.”

“you always show off when you know i’m watching,” she said, stepping closer just slightly, her voice dropping low enough so only he could hear. “you think i haven’t noticed? always taking your shirt off the second you start winning.”

auston’s lips twitched. “you complaining?”

“not exactly,” she shrugged. “but you’re gonna regret giving me this kind of ammo.”

“oh yeah?” he challenged, stepping closer, voice roughening.

“mhm.” she smiled innocently, then leaned in — not quite touching, just enough to make him shift on his feet. “because now i get to sit here, bat my lashes, and keep reminding you exactly what you’re not getting until i say so.”

his jaw flexed, clearly noting the power imbalance, and his hands went to his hips. “you’re evil.”

“so you say.” she popped the ‘p.’ “but i’m cute, so it evens out.”

“you know you’re not gonna win this bet, right?”

“funny,” she said, settling on the bench with an exaggerated sigh. “that’s not what your eyes are saying right now.”

from the other side of the court, bre called, “stop flirting and come play doubles with me!”

auston turned his head, not even hiding his frustration. “she forfeited!”

y/n waved lazily. “i’m busy. psychological warfare and all. carry on.”

alex snorted. “look, how red he is.”

his dad chuckled as he handed alex another ball. “i haven’t seen him flustered like this since he got caught sneaking beers as a teenager.”

meanwhile, y/n was completely unfazed, arms behind her on the bench, tilting her head toward the sun, absolutely glowing. and auston — sweaty, competitive, shirtless and now completely distracted — turned back to his sister with a long-suffering sigh.

“just serve, alex. i’m gonna kill her later.”

“not if she kills you first,” alex grinned.

y/n just blew him a kiss and winked. the bet was far from over.

she kept her promise — her racket had been abandoned in the grass long ago, and she’d spent the better part of the last twenty minutes playing with felix, tossing a deflated soccer ball back and forth while the dog galloped like he was in a world-class competition of his own.

she’d even found a stick he seemed to favor, and now, under the shade of a tree, she sat cross-legged on the field just beside the tennis court, watching as felix pounced and rolled and paraded like he was the real mvp.

what she didn’t expect was auston stomping toward her a few minutes later, looking like a child who’d just been benched for hogging the ball — shirt back on but barely, his cheeks flushed red with heat and maybe mild humiliation.

she raised her brows at him without a word.

he dropped down next to her in the grass with a groan.

“they kicked me out.”

“aw.” she fought her grin, tilting her head. “did baby auston get benched?”

he looked over at her, annoyed and amused all at once. “alex said i kept missing points. bre told me to go flirt with my girlfriend because that's obviously all i want to do since i am costing us the game.”

“wow.” she pressed a hand to her heart. “you mean to tell me your family’s competitive and observant?”

“hilarious.”

she shrugged, tossing the stick for felix. “i warned you.”

“you also declared war.”

“semantics.”

felix bolted off again, and for a moment, there was only the sound of kids yelling from the other side of the fence and birds overhead. then auston reached behind her to grab her water bottle, stealing a sip before nudging her foot with his.

“you still mad at me?”

she raised her brows. “mad?”

“you said you were going to torture me. i believe your exact words were ‘revenge’ and ‘ammo.’”

“ah,” she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “i did say that, didn’t i?”

“mhm," he nodded

“well,” she leaned back onto her hands, her tank top riding slightly as she stretched in the sun. “i haven’t decided if i’m ready to forgive you yet.”

auston narrowed his eyes, lips twitching. “this feels like entrapment.”

“or accountability,” she offered, smiling sweetly.

he huffed a laugh, then looked at her — really looked. hair pulled back in a loose bun, cheeks flushed from the heat, skin glowing under the afternoon sun. she was still in socks from kicking off her shoes, still stubborn about not stepping back onto that court, and yet here she was — entirely comfortable in his world.

he could’ve stayed like this for hours.

“you’re really not gonna play again?” he asked softly.

“nope.” she plucked a blade of grass and twirled it. “my pride’s already been wounded beyond repair.”

he scooted closer, until his leg pressed against hers.

“then i guess i’ll just have to keep you company.”

she didn’t move away — didn’t even blink. “you sure? your family might need you.”

he leaned in, voice low now. “not after they banished me. plus, they also think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

that got her. her breath caught a little, and she looked away, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to let the butterflies show.

felix ran up just then, stick in mouth, panting like a maniac. auston laughed and took it, tossing it again before settling back beside her.

“besides,” he added, glancing at her through the corner of his eye, “i’d rather be distracted every game than not have you looking at me like that when i do.”

her lips parted, stunned for a second. “like what?”

he leaned back onto his elbows. “like you’re falling for me.”

her gaze softened as she watched him, all playfulness fading into something quieter, something she wasn’t quite ready to say aloud. so instead, she smiled and leaned over, nudging his shoulder.

“you talk too much.”

“you like it.”

she let out a small laugh, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

they sat like that, legs pressed together in the grass, felix panting happily between them, and the sounds of his family laughing on the court behind them. and even though the day wasn’t over, and neither was the bet, in that moment — sun overhead, hearts quietly hammering — it really did feel like she’d already won.

after their afternoon packed with activities and a dinner that had long ended, the house now blanketed in the kind of calm that only followed a long day of laughter and sunshine. the scent of grilled corn and lingering lime still clung faintly to the breeze as auston nudged open the screen door to the back patio.

he held it open for her with a tilt of his head, and y/n stepped outside barefoot, the wooden planks of the porch warm from the day’s heat. everything felt dimmer now — the sun having long sunk below the horizon, the sky above them a watercolor of deep indigo, just a few stars brave enough to peek through the thin haze of summer air.

she had changed into one of his oversized t-shirts — not on purpose, or maybe completely on purpose — and he noticed it instantly, smirking to himself as he followed her out, hands tucked into the pockets of his grey sweatshorts.

they didn’t speak right away.

she leaned over the patio railing, elbows resting there, and he joined her, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the faint music playing through the open windows of the house. inside, his parents were helping clean up. bre and alex were arguing over a leftover piece of tres leches. felix, full and spoiled, was curled up by the kitchen island.

it was… good. all of it.

"it's quiet," she murmured finally, her voice light.

“yeah,” he said, barely above a whisper. “feels rare, huh?”

she turned her head to him, lips quirking. “in a house full of matthews? extremely.”

auston grinned, eyes dropping briefly to where her hair had been twisted up with a claw clip — strands already falling around her face. her skin was flushed, not just from the heat, but from the day, the company, the closeness of everything.

“i like seeing you here,” he said quietly, leaning on his forearms, his voice soft but certain.

she glanced away, chewing gently on the inside of her cheek. “i was kind of worried i wouldn’t fit in.”

he shook his head slowly. "you’ve always made sense to me. even when you didn’t know me like this. like now.”

her eyes found his again.

“you’re always thinking,” he added, almost amused. “it’s not bad. i can see it. the gears turn.”

“what's going on in your head the?" she asked, tone teasing but hesitant.

he didn’t blink. “me. us.”

she smiled but said nothing, turning her eyes back out to the dark sky, the stars that were starting to pulse a little brighter.she looked up at him, her gaze softer now, still soaking him in.

her fingers lifted slowly, brushing lightly at the left side of his face — just under his cheekbone, where a small, faint scar carved through the smooth skin. it had always been there, but tonight, under the dim porch light, it stood out more starkly.

“where’s this from?” she asked.

his head tilted just slightly, like the question surprised him. then he huffed a quiet laugh through his nose.

“hockey,” he said simply.

she blinked. “obviously.”

he smiled at that, looking down for a second. “took a stick to the face. didn’t even realize how bad it was until after the game.”

her expression pinched slightly. “does it hurt?”

he shook his head. “nah. old. mostly forgot it was there until you touched it.”

her thumb grazed the scar again, slower this time. then, with hardly a thought, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to it — just once, barely a second. it was featherlight. but he felt it deep.

when she pulled back, she was still close.

“you’re not one of the guys who fights, right?” she asked, voice smaller now. “like… the enforcers, i think? i don’t know much but…”

he watched her carefully, the way her brows tugged, how her voice lilted with concern.

“not really,” he said truthfully. “not unless i have to. you don’t have to worry.”

she sighed, stepping back just a bit, and leaned against the railing again. “it just makes me nervous. seeing that, thinking about how fast the game moves, how rough it can get—”

he turned toward her, resting his side against the wooden beam. “i’m used to it.”

“i know,” she said. “but that doesn’t mean i am.”

there was something honest in that. not dramatic. just… a quiet fear. he could feel it coming from a place of care she was still learning how to voice.

“i don’t want to get 'use to' seeing you like that,” she admitted. “not because you’re not capable or tough. but because… i like this version of you.”

he tilted his head.

“the quiet one. who eats too many cookies. and gets distracted by my lips. and lets his dog control him.”

he leaned closer, brushing his nose against her temple. “you’re saying you won't find it hot when i drop gloves?”

she groaned and nudged him. “auston.”

there was something honest in her tone. not dramatic. just… a quiet fear. he could feel it coming from a place of care she was still learning how to voice.

“fine,” he murmured. “no fighting. unless someone says something about you or my family. then i can’t promise anything.”

"they wouldn't know me," she assured

"you don't know the extent guys go to chirp" auston replie.

“that’s not comforting.”

“it’s meant to be,” he said, and kissed her temple.

she exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment. “okay. no promises. just… be careful.”

the breeze picked up, brushing a strand of her hair against her cheek. she didn’t brush it away, didn’t break the hush that had settled between them — it was love, they both knew, even if neither had said it yet. for now, the warmth of his arms and the quiet between them was enough.

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106 @siennaluvshcky @macka @am34lover4ever

© M34TTHEWS 2025

[m34tthews]

i am working on the first chapter in mexico now 🫡

CHAPTER NINE

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 6.5k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)

an — a shorter chapter because the next ones are going to be ginormous

masterlist

the kitchen smelled like coffee and toasted bagels, sunlight streaming through the blinds in thin stripes across the counter. y/n sat perched on a stool in one of auston’s hoodies, scrolling through her phone as he leaned against the island, arms crossed over his chest.

“so,” he said casually, “what’s the plan for the weekend? pool? movies? stay in bed for 48 hours and see who taps out first?”

she rolled her eyes, dropping her phone face down on the counter. “tempting, you fiend. but i can’t.”

his brows pulled together. “what do you mean you can’t? we’ve been seeing each other every day for almost two months, and now you’re just—bailing on me?”

“not bailing,” she said, smirking as she took a sip of her coffee. “i’m coaching.”

that made him blink. “coaching… what?”

“soccer.”

he stared. “soccer?”

she nodded, biting back a grin at his expression.

“you?” his voice pitched up. “you’re literally the least athletic person i know.”

“excuse me,” she said, sitting up straighter, “who beat you at golf on our first date?”

his laugh cracked out loud. “that was top golf. for amateurs. the only skill involved was making sure you didn’t throw the club.”

“still counts,” she said sweetly.

“barely,” he shot back, shaking his head. “so what, you just woke up and decided to become ted lasso?”

“please,” she scoffed. “my dad’s been reffing since my sister’s little league days with nat. now all the nieces and nephews are playing, and we take turns helping out. it’s my turn.”

auston took that in, his lips twitching. “how many kids are we talking?”

“a whole team,” she said, shrugging. “under six. which basically means i’m herding cats for an hour.”

he smirked. “and you signed up for this?”

“volunteered, actually.” she raised her brows pointedly. “some of us believe in giving back.”

he ignored that dig, moving to grab his mug. “so what, i just… sit at home while you’re out being coach y/n?”

“yeah,” she said breezily, already reaching for the cream cheese.

except that did something to him—because the thought of a saturday without her when he’d had her to himself almost every day for weeks? nope. not happening.

“nah,” he said finally, leaning on the counter. “i’m coming.”

she blinked. “you’re what?”

“coming,” he repeated, grin tugging slow across his mouth. “cheering section. water boy. moral support. whatever.”

her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. “you… want to come to a kids’ soccer game?”

“want to? no. need to? yeah.” he smirked. “you’ve had me holed up with you all summer, and now you’re trying to ditch me for kids? not a chance.”

her cheeks hurt from smiling. “never thought you would stoop that low to being jealous of kids taking my attention from you ridiculous.”

“what can i say? when it comes to you—i am selfish” he said, smug as hell.

and the truth is, she was just as selfish, if not more, when it came to him.

the field looked like pure, unfiltered chaos—bright pinnies darting everywhere, mismatched cleats kicking more air than soccer balls, and parents scattered across folding chairs like it was a sunday ritual.

auston wasn’t used to this. he was used to structured arenas, sharp-edged ice, controlled chaos. not… this—kids running the wrong way, laughter louder than whistles, and y/n right in the center of it all like a professional.

she had the whistle between her lips and that focused glint in her eye that made his stomach twist in the best way. crouched down at the sideline, hair tied back, sneakers dug into the grass—she looked like summer personified, sunlight painting her skin warm. and the way those little kids orbited around her? he was done for.

“let’s go, leo!” she called, clapping her hands as the boy sprinted (well, more like stumbled) toward the ball. “eyes up, buddy!”

auston grinned, sliding his hands into his hoodie pocket as he walked up, already catching a few curious looks from parents. a couple moms whispered—he clocked it but ignored it. his eyes were on her.

she spotted him halfway through giving instructions, and that grin split her face—wide, radiant, like it was just for him.

“look who decided to show up,” she teased, jogging over during a water break. the whistle dangled from her fingers. “mr. hockey himself on a soccer field.”

“hey, don’t act like this isn’t big for me,” he said, smirking as his gaze swept the grass. “you’re out here looking like coach carter, commanding your players.”

“yeah, okay,” she snorted, tossing him a grin. “six-year-olds with the attention span of a goldfish. totally intimidating.”

before he could shoot back, another voice piped up.

"auston, glad my baby sister got you invested in the superior sport”

he turned to find nat strolling over, a ball tucked under her arm, smirk sharp enough to cut. nat, former d1 soccer star had been waiting for this moment as a previous athete.

“i wouldn't go that far,” he said, easy grin sliding on. “it's nice to see you again, nat"

“same,” she replied, eyes flicking to y/n before back to him. “you should know we are a soccer or football family. if you marry my baby sister, you have to be ready to trade your skates for cleats."

he turns to y/n like it's the most outrageous thing he's heard, "our kid will be a multi-sport athlete. the athleticism will have to come from me though. y/n is hopeless"

y/n momentarily took her eyes of the kids to nail him in the gut, just enough to combat his teasing, "i'll have you know i am naturally athletic. right, nat?" she turned to her sister for help

"sure, sweetheart" nat, tapped her cheek lightly like she always did when she placated her younger sister, "anyways the kids are warming up for their next game. they are begging for you to join.” she turned back to auston.

“oh, i don’t think—” he started, but then a swarm of tiny voices cut in.

“auston! come play!” “we need more goals!” “you’re super tall, you’ll be good!”

y/n nudged him forward and he shot y/n a look that screamed betrayal.

she was barely holding in her laughter.

“don’t look at me,” she said, lips curving wicked. “you are one of them now. good luck saying no.”

and just like that, he was standing in the middle of the field, surrounded by six-year-olds who thought his six-foot-three frame was some kind of secret weapon.

nat blew the whistle. “alright, let’s see what hockey boy’s got!”

turns out? not much.

the second the ball rolled toward him, auston froze—like his brain short-circuited. a tiny kid zipped past and stole it right off his foot.

“bro, you didn’t even kick it!” one kid yelled. “my grandma moves faster than you!” another added.

auston gaped. “you guys are ruthless.”

from the sideline, laughter rang out. y/n was doubled over, hands on her knees, her whole body shaking. her mom and aunts weren’t far behind, phones out, filming everything like it was comedy gold.

“get low! use your legs!” nat hollered, cackling. “oh wait—you don’t know how to function without skates, huh?”

“i feel attacked,” he called back, trying to maneuver as three kids swarmed him for the ball.

he finally managed to kick it—only for it to ricochet straight into his own shin.

“ow, what the fu—”

“penalty! he swore” one of the kids screamed, gleeful.

“i did not! that's a terrible call,” auston muttered automatically, making y/n nearly choke on her laughter.

by the time nat blew the whistle again, the kids were buzzing from roasting him, and auston was red-faced—not from embarrassment (okay, maybe a little) but from how hard y/n was laughing.

“you good?” she teased, walking over as he dragged himself off the field, dramatic as hell.

“define good,” he grumbled, but the corner of his mouth tugged up when she pressed a cold water bottle to his arm.

“honestly?” she said, voice low as her family chatted behind them. “that was… adorable.”

“adorable?” he repeated, brows lifting. “baby, i’m a professional athlete.”

“yeah,” she said, smirking. “in hockey. not soccer. seeing you get schooled by six-year-olds was the highlight of the season.”

he gave her a flat look, then glanced toward the bleachers—where, yup, a few of those dads were still lingering, eyes flicking between her and him.

“looks like someone has a fanclub here” he motioned towards them vying for y/n's attention. his voice too casual to be nonchalant.

she followed his gaze, lips twitching. “maybe.”

“maybe?” he echoed, jaw ticking. “how long’s that been happening?”

“a few weeks,” she said, sweet as honey. “luke told me they think ‘coach y/n’ is cute.”

auston’s stare darkened. “cute?”

she grinned, stepping closer. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“jealous?” he snorted, leaning in so only she could hear. “nah. just thinking about which one i would be able to check into the boards first.”

her laugh bubbled out, bright and unguarded, and before she could answer, leo barreled over yelling, “coach! coach, we scored!”

“see?” she said, grinning at auston as the kids swarmed them. “maybe you were good luck after all.”

“oh yeah,” he muttered, pulling her into his side anyway, arm snug around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “definitely all me.”

the families around caught that—of course they did—and the teasing started immediately.

“aww, they look so cute,” a mother cooed.

“looks like another wedding is in the cards for you,” another spoke, directed toward y/n’s mom.

he just smirked, letting it all roll off as he looked down at her, hair messy from the wind, cheeks flushed from laughing.

yeah. he’d trade a getting attacked by a bunch of kids on a soccer field over an arena packed to the brim with fans shouting his name if it meant he could see her smile like that.

the second game had barely started when nat waved them off with a sharp flick of her wrist.

“go be gross somewhere else!” she yelled, laughing as another kid tripped over the ball.

“don’t come back unless you’re bringing snacks!” one of y/n’s cousins added.

“think they hate us,” y/n murmured, tugging auston toward the ice cream truck parked at the edge of the lot. the air smelled like sugar and waffle cones, kids squealing around them, parents chatting in lazy circles.

“nah,” auston said, hand sliding into hers, warm and big and grounding. “they’re just jealous.”

“jealous?” she shot him a look as they joined the short line. “yeah,” he said, grin curling slow. “because i’ve stolen their coach.”

her laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “you’re ridiculous.”

when it was their turn, she ordered a soft serve—vanilla dipped in chocolate, her usual—and auston went for something just as classic: cookies and cream in a cone. the vendor passed them over, and they wandered toward a patch of grass away from the chaos, settling on the edge of the field under a scraggly tree.

she sat first, cross-legged, and for a second he thought she’d leave space between them considering the proximity of their famillies. she didn’t. she tucked herself right against his side, thigh brushing his, like it was second nature now.

he raised a brow, smirking. “you’re not gonna sit across from me?” “and make you miss out on this view?” she teased, gesturing to herself with her free hand. “you mean my view every day?” he shot back, but his voice dropped as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her in closer. his hanf skimming up and down her bare thigh, dangerously close to her bottom.

“auston,” she whispered, laughing low, glancing toward the kids in the distance. “there are children.”

“and?” he murmured, thumb brushing under the hem of her shorts, fingers splayed on the warm skin of her behind. “i’m being appropriate.”

“this is your definition of appropriate?”

“mhmm,” he hummed, leaning down so his breath skimmed her temple.

“you don’t even wanna know what my other definition is.”

her cheeks burned, but she ignored it, taking another lick of her ice cream, pretending his words weren’t melting her faster than the sun.

then, of course, the inevitable happened—a slow drip of chocolate shell down the curve of her fingers. “shit,” she hissed softly, trying to catch it with her napkin.

auston caught her wrist instead. “don’t move,” he said, voice all low gravel as he brought her hand up—and yeah, he licked the drip away, tongue slow over her knuckle like it was the most normal thing in the world.

her breath caught, the heat under her skin boiling alive. “auston,” she hissed, glancing around, but his eyes—god, his eyes—were locked on her like they were alone.

“what?” he asked, smirk ghosting across his mouth as he let her hand go, casual as anything. “waste not, want not.”

she shook her head, flustered, taking a shaky bite of her cone as he leaned back on his elbows, long legs stretched out in front of him. his gaze didn’t move though—not from her lips, not from the way the sunlight hit her shoulders.

he didn’t let up for the rest of the afternoon, teasing her between licks of ice cream, stealing looks that made her pulse skip. by the time they piled back into his car, he sun was dipping low, painting the edges of the city in honey.

the drive home was quiet in that way that felt like a secret—windows down, his fingers brushing hers on the console, music humming low between them. it ended with a soft kiss at her door, lingering and slow, the kind that promised tomorrow.

and tomorrow came—bright and warm, carrying the smell of vanilla and sugar instead of sunscreen and summer air.

the hallway leading to her apartment smelled like vanilla and brown sugar, warm and rich, seeping into the walls like a hug. sunlight spilled through her kitchen windows, casting soft shadows over the floor, catching the faint sways of y/n’s hips as she stood barefoot by the counter, hair tied back messily, a pair of oversized sweats hanging off her frame and her headphones snug over her ears.

flour dusted the length of her forearm and the tip of her nose, and she was softly humming to herself—completely unaware. the tray of freshly baked cookies cooled on a wire rack behind her.

the front door creaked open slowly, quietly, and auston slipped inside. he’d texted, like always—on my way, be there in 10, i’m downstairs, the last one practically a warning. but she hadn’t replied. so when he turned the knob and found it unlocked, he rolled his eyes.

dangerous habit. he made a mental note to scold her.

he stepped forward without her noticing, long strides silent as he neared. then—his arms wrapped tight around her waist from behind, lifting her slightly off her feet.

“auston!” she shrieked, whipping around, headphones flung askew as she slapped his chest. “you idiot!”

he laughed into her neck, letting her feet touch the ground again, arms still secure around her as he dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“you left your door unlocked,” he murmured against her skin. “dangerous. could’ve been anyone.”

“i knew it was you,” she huffed, breathless but smiling. “you text me every five seconds. i knew when you were finishing your workout. i knew when you left the gym. i knew when you got in the car. you’re worse than a location tracker.”

“i’m just thorough,” he teased, his nose brushing the curve of her jaw.

she turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, tugging him in for a slow hug.

“hi.”

his grip tightened, hands spreading wide across her back like he was trying to imprint her into his memory.

“hi,” he murmured. “how was your day?”

“busy. one emergency surgery on a kitten, two new puppy vaccines, and a bengal that refused to get out of its carrier. yours?”

“sweaty. loud. long. made better now.”

her smile widened as she leaned up, brushing her nose against his.

“cookies are cooling. put on love island.”

he groaned dramatically, letting her go as she turned back to the counter.

“again?”

“you love it,” she called over her shoulder, smirking. “you say you don’t but then you have an opinion about every single couple.”

“because they’re all disasters.”

“you say that like you’re not obsessed with the chaos.”

he flopped onto her couch anyway, scrolling through her TV apps while his phone buzzed in his lap. his thumb instinctively went to instagram, scrolling through his feed—photos of friends he hadn’t seen in months, old teammates on vacation, birthday dinners he missed. there was a dull ache in his chest, a familiar weight of distance.

until she walked over, a plate in one hand, warm cookies piled high, a playful look in her eyes. she crawled between his legs without warning, settling herself on her knees as she held one up to his lips.

“taste test.”

he took a bite and groaned around it, grabbing her wrist and holding it there like he might actually need another immediately or he’d die.

“oh my god,” he mumbled, crumbs still in his mouth. “i need five more.”

“i know,” she said smugly, feeding him another. “i added more cinnamon. secret ingredient.”

after a few bites, she leaned forward, brushing his jaw with her thumb, and kissed him gently on the lips. he tasted like sugar and her.

when she pulled back, he let out a dramatic sigh and rubbed his stomach.

“you’re going to make me huge before i even get back to training camp.”

she laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“you’ll survive. we’ll go on walks with felix.”

“we always go on walks with felix.”

“exactly.”

he glanced down at her, brushing a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“my fitness trainers will kill me because of you.”

“because i fill you up sweets?”

“yup but i don't care because you make me feel like this,” he murmured, low, voice brushing against her ear. “soft. happy. lazy.”

she smiled against his neck. “you’re allowed to be soft here.”

and that made him pull her closer, one hand cupping the back of her head like he was holding something precious.

“good,” he whispered, “because i don’t want to be anywhere else.”

outside, the day melted into gold. inside, it was warm and slow and real.

“i need to start working out more.”

her head lifted from his shoulder, brows pulling together.

“what?”

“took me longer to get back on the ice this summer than i wanted,” he said, eyes still on the screen like it was nothing. “felt… off.”

guilt flickered in her chest, sharp and sudden. “auston,” she started softly, “is that… because of me? because you've been spending all your time with me?”

his gaze snapped to hers, steady and sure.

“nope. none of that,” he said firmly. “i play 82 games a season and have a killer training camp that snaps us all back in shape. most guys enjoy their summer with their loved ones.”

the way he said loved ones made her chest tighten.

and then—he moved, leaned over just enough to pull herbetween gis legs, settling her sideways across his thighs. his arm draped around her back, his other hand toying lazily with the hem of her sweatshirt.

“and i loved spending time with you,” he added simply.

she swallowed, something fragile catching in her throat.

“i just want you to be ready,” she murmured, fingers brushing his jaw.

“do i look unfit to you, baby?” he teased, grin curling slow as he flexed his arm just slightly, bicep tightening under her touch.

she rolled her eyes, but he caught the flicker in them—the way they dropped to his chest and lingered.

“thought so,” he said, smug now, leaning in close so his breath skimmed her lips. “you’ve been checking me out since i walked in.”

“you're not cute when you fish for compliments.”

“don't be ridiculous. i am always cute”

he kissed her then—slow, lazy, sweet, with the faintest taste of cinnamon lingering on his tongue.

after the cookies cooled, they moved to the couch shortly after, they were halfway through the newest episode when he finally said it—casual, almost too casual, his voice quiet beneath the sound of the villa girls screaming over a stolen kiss on tv.

"i'm going back to mexico. end of the month beginning of the next. just for two weeks."

she blinked, her cheek still pressed against his chest, where his heartbeat was slow and steady under her ear.

“oh,” she said, simple and soft.

it settled over her slowly, like a haze—the realization that the clock was ticking. every laugh, every lazy morning tangled in sheets, every impulsive trip for ice cream—they were all numbered now. a silent countdown had been running beneath her skin this whole time, and she’d been ignoring it.

because soon, he wouldn’t be here. no late-night texts when he couldn’t sleep, no casual drop-ins at the clinic with that crooked smile, no arms winding around her from behind while she baked, pressing soft kisses to her neck. no quiet walks with felix as the sun bled out over the horizon, his hand brushing hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

no auston.

the thought cut sharp. he had become part of her every day without asking—woven into her routines, her space, her thoughts—like muscle memory. and now that she noticed, now that she really let herself feel it, the idea of losing that made her chest ache in a way she wasn’t ready for.

and what scared her most wasn’t just the distance. it was how much she hated the thought of a life without him in it this way.

his arm tensed slightly under her, like he’d felt the shift in her body, that pull away without her moving an inch. his fingers slid along her jaw, steady and sure, tilting her face toward him—like he could anchor her before she floated too far from him. he prepared himself to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since they finalized their trip details.

"i want you to come with me," he said.

her brows pulled together. “what?”

"we all do. but especially me."

she opened her mouth, then closed it again, lips pressing into a thin line. “auston—maybe we’re moving too fast.”

his thumb brushed the side of her face, his expression steady.

“are we?”

she hesitated. “i don’t know. and i have work—i can’t just leave. two weeks is a long time, i—”

“i spoke to the receptionists about your upcoming schedule”

her eyes narrowed. “you what?”

“i am sorry if i overstepped. i had to make sure it was even possible before i brought it up,” he shrugged, a little smug. “they said you haven’t taken a single vacation day this year. not one. and that you deserve the time. your boss even chimed in and said he said you should go.”

her lips parted in shock. “they actually said that?”

“yeah,” he said, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “he said, and i quote, take her. she won’t do it for herself.”

she leaned back slightly, not out of protest, just needing a little space to process.

he watched her quietly, giving her time.

“what if your family thinks it’s weird that you're bringing a girl you've been seeing just this summer?”

“they won’t,” he said. “they’ll love you.”

her throat tightened. “you’re sure?”

“they already asked if i was bringing you. my mom literally texted me today to remind me to get you to come.”

“that’s insane.”

“is it?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “we’re doing this, aren’t we? you and me?” he motioned between their bodies.

she looked up at him. his eyes were soft. no pressure. just a question wrapped in hope.

and she realized she already knew her answer. because somewhere along the way, wanting him had become as natural as breathing—and the thought of stepping back now felt impossible. even if she tried, even if she told herself she should, she knew she couldn’t stay away from him. he was in her chest, in her pulse, stitched into the quiet spaces of her day.

so she nodded. slow, certain and let out a breath. “okay.”

his face lit up, something quiet and pleased behind his eyes.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “i’ll come.”

her lips were still parted from the word okay when he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over the corner of her mouth—not quite a celebration, more like gratitude. something warm. reverent.

she didn’t pull back this time. just stayed there, curled between his legs on the couch, her hands fisted lightly in the hem of his hoodie, her cheek pressed to his chest again. the screen played on in front of them, but neither of them were watching.

his thumb stroked up and down the bare skin of her arm, slow and steady. anchoring.

“you’re gonna love it,” he whispered. “i can’t wait to show you my roots"

“you don’t think we’re moving too fast?” she asked again, quietly, almost to herself.

his hand stilled for a beat, then settled flat against her skin.

“no,” he said simply.

she tilted her head to look up at him, her brow pinched in a soft, uncertain line.

“auston…”

he met her gaze, calm and unwavering. “we’re not teenagers anymore.”

she blinked. “okay, well, we’re barely—”

“we’re not kids anymore,” he corrected gently, his palm warming the curve of her arm. “we’ve lived some life. we’ve seen what works, what doesn’t. you know who you are now. i know who i am.”

she swallowed thickly.

“and i know that when i wake up, i want you there. when something good happens, i want to tell you. when something bad happens, i want to hear your voice.”

her lips parted, her heart thudding hard against her ribs.

“that’s not 'fast',” he continued, voice quiet. “that’s clarity.”

she went still, her fingers tightening against his chest.

“i’ve never had this before,” he added, slower now. “not like this. not with someone who makes the rest of my life feel… easier.”

her throat felt tight in the best kind of way.

he dipped his head, brushing their noses together. “i think we’re moving at the exact pace we’re supposed to. and if it ever feels like too much, we talk about it. because we’re grown now. we can do that.”

her breath caught. “you’ve… really thought about this.”

“you make it impossible not to,” he said with a lopsided smile.

she looked down for a moment, overwhelmed in the quietest way. then she leaned up, kissing him once—soft and slow, her hands threading into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“when do we leave?” she whispered, pulling back only enough to murmur against his lips.

his smile deepened. “two weeks from friday.”

“okay,” she whispered again.

“and you get to meet everyone,” he said, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “my aunts, uncles, cousins, all of my mom's side and let me preface by saying there are a lot of us”

“god, how am going to remember all their names.”

“you'll do it like you do everything with grace. they’ll love you anyway.”

“i’m going to bring a notebook.”

he laughed, chest vibrating beneath her palms. “you’re such a nerd.”

“you like it,” she challenged.

he dipped his head again, lips ghosting over hers. “you have no idea how much.”

and she melted back into him again, letting herself believe—for the first time in a long time—that maybe this wasn’t just a temporary good thing.

maybe this was the start of something solid. something that could last.

auston had been sprawled on her bed since he’d walked in from hsi work out the next day, freshly showered but still flushed from the second round of off-ice workouts they were making him do ahead of his two-week trip. his hair was still damp, the edges curling faintly against his forehead as he laid there in gray sweatshorts, that didn't leave much to her imagination, his usual a white tank, a bottle of water resting on his chest like he couldn’t even be bothered to hold it up anymore.

he looked like a man recovering from war. or at least the gym. same thing, in his mind.

“you’re dramatic,” y/n said over her shoulder, kneeling beside the open luggage on the floor, folding her fourth sundress.

“i’m dying,” he groaned in response.

“you just have to get in shape to eat nonstop in mexico.”

“don’t joke about something that serious.” his voice was muffled, head tilted to the side, watching her in the sunlight pouring through the window. her hair was tied up messily, a pen lodged in it from earlier, and she was still in an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, sliding around the room with practiced ease.

he’d never seen anyone make packing look so attractive.

“what should i wear to meet your family again?” she asked, holding up two different tank tops, looking between the mirror and her reflection. “like…what’s the vibe? do they hate revealing clothes? no crop tops?”

he barely moved, just lifted his arm and propped it behind his head, a smirk tugging lazily at the edge of his lips. “preferably nothing.”

she turned, unimpressed, and chucked a pair of shorts directly at his chest. they bounced off and landed in a heap on the bed next to him.

he grinned wider, grabbed them, and sat up with effort. “i like these.”

“you like anything that gives you ideas.”

“guilty.” he stood and stretched, yawning before sauntering over to where she was still crouched beside the suitcase. she didn’t flinch as he came behind her, just kept folding. he leaned over her slightly, nosy as ever, eyes skimming the already packed items. “this is what you’re bringing?”

“yes.”

“it’s gonna be a billion degrees, you know.”

“i know.”

“you won’t need half of this,” he said, tugging on a pair of linen pants with a teasing scoff. “you’re packing pants?”

“a girl has options, auston. besides,” she shot him a look over her shoulder, “we’re staying with your family. i can’t exactly have my ass out.”

“i mean…” he lifted a brow suggestively. “i wouldn’t complain.”

“you wouldn’t,” she said, shoving a pair of sandals into the bag before zipping up one of the pouches. “but your grandma might.”

he made a face. “okay, fine. bring the pants. but also…” he wandered toward her dresser, opening the top drawer like he had every right to. “what’s this?”

“hey!” she turned, face flushing slightly. “what are you doing?”

“looking for more acceptable packing options,” he said innocently.

but his expression changed when he found it—delicate black lace folded neatly beneath a few plain bralettes. he plucked the piece up, holding it between two fingers, his grin turning downright wolfish. “and what’s this?”

“nothing for you to see. perv,” she deadpanned.

“no,” he corrected, walking back toward her slowly, still dangling it in front of her. “this is destiny.”

“auston,” she warned, biting back a smile, “put it down.”

“pack it,” he countered.

“no.”

“please.”

“absolutely not.”

he dropped to sit beside her on the bed, still holding the lace, brushing it gently across her bare knee. “if you think i’m spending two weeks sleeping beside you, knowing this is buried in some drawer back home, you are crueler than i thought.”

“if you think you’re getting any action under your parents’ roof, you’re crazier than i thought.”

“no,” he groaned, falling backward onto the bed with his arms thrown out dramatically, the lingerie tossed to the side. “you’re gonna kill me.”

she leaned over him, placing her hands on either side of his chest, watching his eyes trail from her face to the sway of her shirt. “then stop snooping.”

he reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “only if you pack it.”

“we’ll see.”

“that’s not a no.”

“it’s also not a yes,” she whispered, dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her lips barely grazing his skin.

his hands came up, palms skating under the hem of her shirt, resting on the warm skin of her hips. “you’re so sexy.”

“you’re insatiable.”

they laughed into the kiss that followed, the kind that started teasing and turned breathless, her fingers gripping the collar of his tank as she sank further into his space. by the time he rolled them, pinning her back gently into the mattress, both of them were smiling and flushed, surrounded by half-packed clothes and forgotten jokes.

he kissed down her neck, tugging her shirt up inch by inch, murmuring against her skin, “you better pack that lingerie.”

she smiled up at him, fingers dragging down his spine. “fine. but only if you’re good.”

“i'm always good for you.” he grinned earnestly.

“i’ll let you know,” she whispered, pulling him back down into her, laughter and heat tangled up like everything else between them.

they didn’t leave the bed for hours.

the suitcase stayed half-zipped at the foot, clothes folded and rumpled now, a shirt kicked off the side, her shorts somewhere near the pillows. his laughter echoed faintly beneath the breathier sounds — skin meeting skin, the hitch of a gasp when he trailed kisses lower, and the rasp of her voice calling his name like it belonged only to her.

and maybe it did.

because no matter how far he went — on the road, on the ice, across the country or two time zones away — something about this, about her, always pulled him back like gravity.

the room was quiet now. just the hum of the fan above them and the soft rhythm of their breathing, tangled in the sheets as the afternoon sun began to dip into gold through the curtains. auston had one arm behind his head again, and the other curved around her bare shoulder, her fingers drawing light circles on his chest, slow and thoughtless.

“i should finish packing,” she murmured, voice soft and thick with post-laughter haze.

“you should stay right here.” he turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “you’ve got time.”

“you’re distracting.”

“that’s literally the point.”

she laughed under her breath and turned into him slightly, the curve of her body fitting perfectly against his side. “you always win.”

he looked down at her, lips brushing her temple again. “no,” he said quietly, “you do.”

she didn’t answer right away, just curled tighter into him, letting her hand trail lower across his ribs, then flattening over his heart like she was memorizing the beat of it. he caught her hand and held it there, eyes falling closed again for a second.

“hey,” he said after a moment, voice a little rough, “when you come with me, you’re not gonna be nervous, right?”

“nervous?”

“about meeting the rest of my family. being somewhere new. i don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

“i'll try,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers. “i’ve already met your mom and sisters. if anything, i’m worried they’re gonna like me more than you.”

“please,” he scoffed, rolling slightly to pin her under his arm. “they already do.”

she giggled, squirming under him playfully as he kissed along her shoulder, then to her jaw, then finally catching her mouth again. it was slower this time, the heat softened by the intimacy, his hands smoothing down her sides as he kissed her like he had all the time in the world.

and maybe he didn’t. maybe the season would start and take him away again. but here, now, with her smiling under him and his name on her lips, the world had never felt more still.

outside smelled like sun-warmed grass and fresh rain, the kind that lingered after a late-morning drizzle. felix padded happily ahead, his paws kicking up bits of dirt as the leash trailed from y/n’s hand. her other arm was looped with auston’s, their steps slow and unhurried along the winding trail that curved through the park.

she’d packed for the day—tossed snacks into a canvas tote, filled two water bottles, even slipped in a ratty old tennis ball for felix—and now here they were, the three of them: him in a faded cap and grey hoodie, her in cutoffs and a soft crewneck that looked suspiciously like one of his.

they’d been like this for two months—wrapped up in each other so completely that the world outside barely touched them. and still, it felt new. still, it hit him sometimes, sharp and sudden, how much he liked her. how much he wanted to keep liking her.

“you packed your bag like we’re camping. not walking felix on a trail,” he teased, glancing down at the bulging tote swinging from her shoulder.

“snacks are essential,” she shot back, tossing him a look. “you get hangry every two hours. i’ve learned.”

“hangry?” he repeated, feigning offense.

“oh, please,” she laughed. “you sulk like maria, when you’re hungry. it’s annoying.”

he grinned, teeth flashing as he gave her hip a little nudge with his.

“bold words for someone wearing my clothes in public,” he murmured, low enough that it brushed against her ear like heat.

her cheeks warmed instantly, and he caught it—the way she tried to bite back a smile, eyes darting away for half a second.

“you noticed,” she said lightly, tugging at the hem.

“noticed?” he echoed, mock incredulous. “baby, i always notice. keep it coming—i like people knowing you have a man."

she rolled her eyes but the flush crept down her neck, and he felt that stupid swell of pride in his chest—the one that always came when he caught her in something of his, like it marked her in a way no one else got to see.

felix trotted ahead, tail wagging, nose to the grass, and auston squeezed her arm gently, steering her around a muddy patch before dropping his hand to lace their fingers together instead. her palm was warm, small against his, and he rubbed his thumb over the dip of her knuckles like he couldn’t stop himself.

“you okay?” she asked after a beat, voice softer now.

“perfect,” he said simply, and it was the truth.

they walked a little longer before the trail opened into a clearing dotted with wildflowers and a few scattered benches. she slowed, eyes sweeping the open space, then dropped the tote on the grass with a quiet thud.

“snack break?” he guessed.

“you read my mind,” she grinned, sinking onto the blanket she’d pulled from the bag. felix immediately plopped down beside her, tongue lolling, while auston stretched out behind her, propping himself on one elbow.

it was quiet for a while—just the sound of birds overhead, the rustle of leaves, her laugh when felix tried to nose his way into the snack bag. and then—he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at the curve of her jaw.

“you know,” he said, eyes catching hers, “you’ve gotten… bold.”

she blinked. “bold?”

“mhmm,” he hummed, dragging the pad of his thumb slowly across her cheekbone. “pda was, like, your personal nightmare when we met.”

she scoffed, grabbing a piece of fruit from the container between them. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“is it?” he teased, leaning in just enough for his breath to fan across her lips. “first time i tried to kiss you in public, you looked like you were about to file a restraining order.”

she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “i did not.”

“you flinched.”

“i was surprised!”

he smirked, eyes dropping briefly to her mouth before finding hers again. “and now?”

she hesitated, then shrugged, casual—except her pulse was jumping against his fingers where they rested on her neck.

“now,” she murmured, “i kind of like it.”

that did something to him—sharp and deep. because kind of like it didn’t even begin to cover the way she leaned into him now, the way her knees brushed his thighs like muscle memory, the way she looked at him like the sun couldn’t compete.

“yeah?” his voice was low, rough around the edges.

“yeah,” she whispered back, and then—she kissed him.

slow at first, like the world was still holding its breath. then deeper, warmer, until he was pulling between his legs and the blanket was sliding, forgotten, into the grass. felix huffed beside them, offended by the lack of attention.

her hands curled into his hoodie, and he smiled against her mouth, smug and stupidly happy.

when she pulled back, breath shaky, he pressed his forehead to hers and murmured, “so… holding hands in public doesn’t make you wanna sprint anymore?”

“maybe not,” she admitted, cheeks pink, lips swollen.

“good,” he said, brushing his nose against hers. “because i like showing you off.”

her laugh was soft, caught in the space between them.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“and you’re mine,” he said without thinking—and then froze, because this time he said it, it felt dangerously close to something bigger. heavier.

but she didn’t pull away. didn’t tease. just smiled, quiet and sure, before kissing him again like it was the only answer he needed.

and if his chest felt like it was about to split open, well—he’d deal with that later.

for now, he lay back on the blanket with her sprawled across him, felix snoring at their feet, and thought. i could live in this moment forever.

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106 @siennaluvshcky @macka

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[m34tthews]

CHAPTER NINE

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 6.5k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)

an — a shorter chapter because the next ones are going to be ginormous

masterlist

the kitchen smelled like coffee and toasted bagels, sunlight streaming through the blinds in thin stripes across the counter. y/n sat perched on a stool in one of auston’s hoodies, scrolling through her phone as he leaned against the island, arms crossed over his chest.

“so,” he said casually, “what’s the plan for the weekend? pool? movies? stay in bed for 48 hours and see who taps out first?”

she rolled her eyes, dropping her phone face down on the counter. “tempting, you fiend. but i can’t.”

his brows pulled together. “what do you mean you can’t? we’ve been seeing each other every day for almost two months, and now you’re just—bailing on me?”

“not bailing,” she said, smirking as she took a sip of her coffee. “i’m coaching.”

that made him blink. “coaching… what?”

“soccer.”

he stared. “soccer?”

she nodded, biting back a grin at his expression.

“you?” his voice pitched up. “you’re literally the least athletic person i know.”

“excuse me,” she said, sitting up straighter, “who beat you at golf on our first date?”

his laugh cracked out loud. “that was top golf. for amateurs. the only skill involved was making sure you didn’t throw the club.”

“still counts,” she said sweetly.

“barely,” he shot back, shaking his head. “so what, you just woke up and decided to become ted lasso?”

“please,” she scoffed. “my dad’s been reffing since my sister’s little league days with nat. now all the nieces and nephews are playing, and we take turns helping out. it’s my turn.”

auston took that in, his lips twitching. “how many kids are we talking?”

“a whole team,” she said, shrugging. “under six. which basically means i’m herding cats for an hour.”

he smirked. “and you signed up for this?”

“volunteered, actually.” she raised her brows pointedly. “some of us believe in giving back.”

he ignored that dig, moving to grab his mug. “so what, i just… sit at home while you’re out being coach y/n?”

“yeah,” she said breezily, already reaching for the cream cheese.

except that did something to him—because the thought of a saturday without her when he’d had her to himself almost every day for weeks? nope. not happening.

“nah,” he said finally, leaning on the counter. “i’m coming.”

she blinked. “you’re what?”

“coming,” he repeated, grin tugging slow across his mouth. “cheering section. water boy. moral support. whatever.”

her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. “you… want to come to a kids’ soccer game?”

“want to? no. need to? yeah.” he smirked. “you’ve had me holed up with you all summer, and now you’re trying to ditch me for kids? not a chance.”

her cheeks hurt from smiling. “never thought you would stoop that low to being jealous of kids taking my attention from you ridiculous.”

“what can i say? when it comes to you—i am selfish” he said, smug as hell.

and the truth is, she was just as selfish, if not more, when it came to him.

the field looked like pure, unfiltered chaos—bright pinnies darting everywhere, mismatched cleats kicking more air than soccer balls, and parents scattered across folding chairs like it was a sunday ritual.

auston wasn’t used to this. he was used to structured arenas, sharp-edged ice, controlled chaos. not… this—kids running the wrong way, laughter louder than whistles, and y/n right in the center of it all like a professional.

she had the whistle between her lips and that focused glint in her eye that made his stomach twist in the best way. crouched down at the sideline, hair tied back, sneakers dug into the grass—she looked like summer personified, sunlight painting her skin warm. and the way those little kids orbited around her? he was done for.

“let’s go, leo!” she called, clapping her hands as the boy sprinted (well, more like stumbled) toward the ball. “eyes up, buddy!”

auston grinned, sliding his hands into his hoodie pocket as he walked up, already catching a few curious looks from parents. a couple moms whispered—he clocked it but ignored it. his eyes were on her.

she spotted him halfway through giving instructions, and that grin split her face—wide, radiant, like it was just for him.

“look who decided to show up,” she teased, jogging over during a water break. the whistle dangled from her fingers. “mr. hockey himself on a soccer field.”

“hey, don’t act like this isn’t big for me,” he said, smirking as his gaze swept the grass. “you’re out here looking like coach carter, commanding your players.”

“yeah, okay,” she snorted, tossing him a grin. “six-year-olds with the attention span of a goldfish. totally intimidating.”

before he could shoot back, another voice piped up.

"auston, glad my baby sister got you invested in the superior sport”

he turned to find nat strolling over, a ball tucked under her arm, smirk sharp enough to cut. nat, former d1 soccer star had been waiting for this moment as a previous athete.

“i wouldn't go that far,” he said, easy grin sliding on. “it's nice to see you again, nat"

“same,” she replied, eyes flicking to y/n before back to him. “you should know we are a soccer or football family. if you marry my baby sister, you have to be ready to trade your skates for cleats."

he turns to y/n like it's the most outrageous thing he's heard, "our kid will be a multi-sport athlete. the athleticism will have to come from me though. y/n is hopeless"

y/n momentarily took her eyes of the kids to nail him in the gut, just enough to combat his teasing, "i'll have you know i am naturally athletic. right, nat?" she turned to her sister for help

"sure, sweetheart" nat, tapped her cheek lightly like she always did when she placated her younger sister, "anyways the kids are warming up for their next game. they are begging for you to join.” she turned back to auston.

“oh, i don’t think—” he started, but then a swarm of tiny voices cut in.

“auston! come play!” “we need more goals!” “you’re super tall, you’ll be good!”

y/n nudged him forward and he shot y/n a look that screamed betrayal.

she was barely holding in her laughter.

“don’t look at me,” she said, lips curving wicked. “you are one of them now. good luck saying no.”

and just like that, he was standing in the middle of the field, surrounded by six-year-olds who thought his six-foot-three frame was some kind of secret weapon.

nat blew the whistle. “alright, let’s see what hockey boy’s got!”

turns out? not much.

the second the ball rolled toward him, auston froze—like his brain short-circuited. a tiny kid zipped past and stole it right off his foot.

“bro, you didn’t even kick it!” one kid yelled. “my grandma moves faster than you!” another added.

auston gaped. “you guys are ruthless.”

from the sideline, laughter rang out. y/n was doubled over, hands on her knees, her whole body shaking. her mom and aunts weren’t far behind, phones out, filming everything like it was comedy gold.

“get low! use your legs!” nat hollered, cackling. “oh wait—you don’t know how to function without skates, huh?”

“i feel attacked,” he called back, trying to maneuver as three kids swarmed him for the ball.

he finally managed to kick it—only for it to ricochet straight into his own shin.

“ow, what the fu—”

“penalty! he swore” one of the kids screamed, gleeful.

“i did not! that's a terrible call,” auston muttered automatically, making y/n nearly choke on her laughter.

by the time nat blew the whistle again, the kids were buzzing from roasting him, and auston was red-faced—not from embarrassment (okay, maybe a little) but from how hard y/n was laughing.

“you good?” she teased, walking over as he dragged himself off the field, dramatic as hell.

“define good,” he grumbled, but the corner of his mouth tugged up when she pressed a cold water bottle to his arm.

“honestly?” she said, voice low as her family chatted behind them. “that was… adorable.”

“adorable?” he repeated, brows lifting. “baby, i’m a professional athlete.”

“yeah,” she said, smirking. “in hockey. not soccer. seeing you get schooled by six-year-olds was the highlight of the season.”

he gave her a flat look, then glanced toward the bleachers—where, yup, a few of those dads were still lingering, eyes flicking between her and him.

“looks like someone has a fanclub here” he motioned towards them vying for y/n's attention. his voice too casual to be nonchalant.

she followed his gaze, lips twitching. “maybe.”

“maybe?” he echoed, jaw ticking. “how long’s that been happening?”

“a few weeks,” she said, sweet as honey. “luke told me they think ‘coach y/n’ is cute.”

auston’s stare darkened. “cute?”

she grinned, stepping closer. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“jealous?” he snorted, leaning in so only she could hear. “nah. just thinking about which one i would be able to check into the boards first.”

her laugh bubbled out, bright and unguarded, and before she could answer, leo barreled over yelling, “coach! coach, we scored!”

“see?” she said, grinning at auston as the kids swarmed them. “maybe you were good luck after all.”

“oh yeah,” he muttered, pulling her into his side anyway, arm snug around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “definitely all me.”

the families around caught that—of course they did—and the teasing started immediately.

“aww, they look so cute,” a mother cooed.

“looks like another wedding is in the cards for you,” another spoke, directed toward y/n’s mom.

he just smirked, letting it all roll off as he looked down at her, hair messy from the wind, cheeks flushed from laughing.

yeah. he’d trade a getting attacked by a bunch of kids on a soccer field over an arena packed to the brim with fans shouting his name if it meant he could see her smile like that.

the second game had barely started when nat waved them off with a sharp flick of her wrist.

“go be gross somewhere else!” she yelled, laughing as another kid tripped over the ball.

“don’t come back unless you’re bringing snacks!” one of y/n’s cousins added.

“think they hate us,” y/n murmured, tugging auston toward the ice cream truck parked at the edge of the lot. the air smelled like sugar and waffle cones, kids squealing around them, parents chatting in lazy circles.

“nah,” auston said, hand sliding into hers, warm and big and grounding. “they’re just jealous.”

“jealous?” she shot him a look as they joined the short line. “yeah,” he said, grin curling slow. “because i’ve stolen their coach.”

her laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “you’re ridiculous.”

when it was their turn, she ordered a soft serve—vanilla dipped in chocolate, her usual—and auston went for something just as classic: cookies and cream in a cone. the vendor passed them over, and they wandered toward a patch of grass away from the chaos, settling on the edge of the field under a scraggly tree.

she sat first, cross-legged, and for a second he thought she’d leave space between them considering the proximity of their famillies. she didn’t. she tucked herself right against his side, thigh brushing his, like it was second nature now.

he raised a brow, smirking. “you’re not gonna sit across from me?” “and make you miss out on this view?” she teased, gesturing to herself with her free hand. “you mean my view every day?” he shot back, but his voice dropped as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her in closer. his hanf skimming up and down her bare thigh, dangerously close to her bottom.

“auston,” she whispered, laughing low, glancing toward the kids in the distance. “there are children.”

“and?” he murmured, thumb brushing under the hem of her shorts, fingers splayed on the warm skin of her behind. “i’m being appropriate.”

“this is your definition of appropriate?”

“mhmm,” he hummed, leaning down so his breath skimmed her temple.

“you don’t even wanna know what my other definition is.”

her cheeks burned, but she ignored it, taking another lick of her ice cream, pretending his words weren’t melting her faster than the sun.

then, of course, the inevitable happened—a slow drip of chocolate shell down the curve of her fingers. “shit,” she hissed softly, trying to catch it with her napkin.

auston caught her wrist instead. “don’t move,” he said, voice all low gravel as he brought her hand up—and yeah, he licked the drip away, tongue slow over her knuckle like it was the most normal thing in the world.

her breath caught, the heat under her skin boiling alive. “auston,” she hissed, glancing around, but his eyes—god, his eyes—were locked on her like they were alone.

“what?” he asked, smirk ghosting across his mouth as he let her hand go, casual as anything. “waste not, want not.”

she shook her head, flustered, taking a shaky bite of her cone as he leaned back on his elbows, long legs stretched out in front of him. his gaze didn’t move though—not from her lips, not from the way the sunlight hit her shoulders.

he didn’t let up for the rest of the afternoon, teasing her between licks of ice cream, stealing looks that made her pulse skip. by the time they piled back into his car, he sun was dipping low, painting the edges of the city in honey.

the drive home was quiet in that way that felt like a secret—windows down, his fingers brushing hers on the console, music humming low between them. it ended with a soft kiss at her door, lingering and slow, the kind that promised tomorrow.

and tomorrow came—bright and warm, carrying the smell of vanilla and sugar instead of sunscreen and summer air.

the hallway leading to her apartment smelled like vanilla and brown sugar, warm and rich, seeping into the walls like a hug. sunlight spilled through her kitchen windows, casting soft shadows over the floor, catching the faint sways of y/n’s hips as she stood barefoot by the counter, hair tied back messily, a pair of oversized sweats hanging off her frame and her headphones snug over her ears.

flour dusted the length of her forearm and the tip of her nose, and she was softly humming to herself—completely unaware. the tray of freshly baked cookies cooled on a wire rack behind her.

the front door creaked open slowly, quietly, and auston slipped inside. he’d texted, like always—on my way, be there in 10, i’m downstairs, the last one practically a warning. but she hadn’t replied. so when he turned the knob and found it unlocked, he rolled his eyes.

dangerous habit. he made a mental note to scold her.

he stepped forward without her noticing, long strides silent as he neared. then—his arms wrapped tight around her waist from behind, lifting her slightly off her feet.

“auston!” she shrieked, whipping around, headphones flung askew as she slapped his chest. “you idiot!”

he laughed into her neck, letting her feet touch the ground again, arms still secure around her as he dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“you left your door unlocked,” he murmured against her skin. “dangerous. could’ve been anyone.”

“i knew it was you,” she huffed, breathless but smiling. “you text me every five seconds. i knew when you were finishing your workout. i knew when you left the gym. i knew when you got in the car. you’re worse than a location tracker.”

“i’m just thorough,” he teased, his nose brushing the curve of her jaw.

she turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, tugging him in for a slow hug.

“hi.”

his grip tightened, hands spreading wide across her back like he was trying to imprint her into his memory.

“hi,” he murmured. “how was your day?”

“busy. one emergency surgery on a kitten, two new puppy vaccines, and a bengal that refused to get out of its carrier. yours?”

“sweaty. loud. long. made better now.”

her smile widened as she leaned up, brushing her nose against his.

“cookies are cooling. put on love island.”

he groaned dramatically, letting her go as she turned back to the counter.

“again?”

“you love it,” she called over her shoulder, smirking. “you say you don’t but then you have an opinion about every single couple.”

“because they’re all disasters.”

“you say that like you’re not obsessed with the chaos.”

he flopped onto her couch anyway, scrolling through her TV apps while his phone buzzed in his lap. his thumb instinctively went to instagram, scrolling through his feed—photos of friends he hadn’t seen in months, old teammates on vacation, birthday dinners he missed. there was a dull ache in his chest, a familiar weight of distance.

until she walked over, a plate in one hand, warm cookies piled high, a playful look in her eyes. she crawled between his legs without warning, settling herself on her knees as she held one up to his lips.

“taste test.”

he took a bite and groaned around it, grabbing her wrist and holding it there like he might actually need another immediately or he’d die.

“oh my god,” he mumbled, crumbs still in his mouth. “i need five more.”

“i know,” she said smugly, feeding him another. “i added more cinnamon. secret ingredient.”

after a few bites, she leaned forward, brushing his jaw with her thumb, and kissed him gently on the lips. he tasted like sugar and her.

when she pulled back, he let out a dramatic sigh and rubbed his stomach.

“you’re going to make me huge before i even get back to training camp.”

she laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“you’ll survive. we’ll go on walks with felix.”

“we always go on walks with felix.”

“exactly.”

he glanced down at her, brushing a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“my fitness trainers will kill me because of you.”

“because i fill you up sweets?”

“yup but i don't care because you make me feel like this,” he murmured, low, voice brushing against her ear. “soft. happy. lazy.”

she smiled against his neck. “you’re allowed to be soft here.”

and that made him pull her closer, one hand cupping the back of her head like he was holding something precious.

“good,” he whispered, “because i don’t want to be anywhere else.”

outside, the day melted into gold. inside, it was warm and slow and real.

“i need to start working out more.”

her head lifted from his shoulder, brows pulling together.

“what?”

“took me longer to get back on the ice this summer than i wanted,” he said, eyes still on the screen like it was nothing. “felt… off.”

guilt flickered in her chest, sharp and sudden. “auston,” she started softly, “is that… because of me? because you've been spending all your time with me?”

his gaze snapped to hers, steady and sure.

“nope. none of that,” he said firmly. “i play 82 games a season and have a killer training camp that snaps us all back in shape. most guys enjoy their summer with their loved ones.”

the way he said loved ones made her chest tighten.

and then—he moved, leaned over just enough to pull herbetween gis legs, settling her sideways across his thighs. his arm draped around her back, his other hand toying lazily with the hem of her sweatshirt.

“and i loved spending time with you,” he added simply.

she swallowed, something fragile catching in her throat.

“i just want you to be ready,” she murmured, fingers brushing his jaw.

“do i look unfit to you, baby?” he teased, grin curling slow as he flexed his arm just slightly, bicep tightening under her touch.

she rolled her eyes, but he caught the flicker in them—the way they dropped to his chest and lingered.

“thought so,” he said, smug now, leaning in close so his breath skimmed her lips. “you’ve been checking me out since i walked in.”

“you're not cute when you fish for compliments.”

“don't be ridiculous. i am always cute”

he kissed her then—slow, lazy, sweet, with the faintest taste of cinnamon lingering on his tongue.

after the cookies cooled, they moved to the couch shortly after, they were halfway through the newest episode when he finally said it—casual, almost too casual, his voice quiet beneath the sound of the villa girls screaming over a stolen kiss on tv.

"i'm going back to mexico. end of the month beginning of the next. just for two weeks."

she blinked, her cheek still pressed against his chest, where his heartbeat was slow and steady under her ear.

“oh,” she said, simple and soft.

it settled over her slowly, like a haze—the realization that the clock was ticking. every laugh, every lazy morning tangled in sheets, every impulsive trip for ice cream—they were all numbered now. a silent countdown had been running beneath her skin this whole time, and she’d been ignoring it.

because soon, he wouldn’t be here. no late-night texts when he couldn’t sleep, no casual drop-ins at the clinic with that crooked smile, no arms winding around her from behind while she baked, pressing soft kisses to her neck. no quiet walks with felix as the sun bled out over the horizon, his hand brushing hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

no auston.

the thought cut sharp. he had become part of her every day without asking—woven into her routines, her space, her thoughts—like muscle memory. and now that she noticed, now that she really let herself feel it, the idea of losing that made her chest ache in a way she wasn’t ready for.

and what scared her most wasn’t just the distance. it was how much she hated the thought of a life without him in it this way.

his arm tensed slightly under her, like he’d felt the shift in her body, that pull away without her moving an inch. his fingers slid along her jaw, steady and sure, tilting her face toward him—like he could anchor her before she floated too far from him. he prepared himself to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since they finalized their trip details.

"i want you to come with me," he said.

her brows pulled together. “what?”

"we all do. but especially me."

she opened her mouth, then closed it again, lips pressing into a thin line. “auston—maybe we’re moving too fast.”

his thumb brushed the side of her face, his expression steady.

“are we?”

she hesitated. “i don’t know. and i have work—i can’t just leave. two weeks is a long time, i—”

“i spoke to the receptionists about your upcoming schedule”

her eyes narrowed. “you what?”

“i am sorry if i overstepped. i had to make sure it was even possible before i brought it up,” he shrugged, a little smug. “they said you haven’t taken a single vacation day this year. not one. and that you deserve the time. your boss even chimed in and said he said you should go.”

her lips parted in shock. “they actually said that?”

“yeah,” he said, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “he said, and i quote, take her. she won’t do it for herself.”

she leaned back slightly, not out of protest, just needing a little space to process.

he watched her quietly, giving her time.

“what if your family thinks it’s weird that you're bringing a girl you've been seeing just this summer?”

“they won’t,” he said. “they’ll love you.”

her throat tightened. “you’re sure?”

“they already asked if i was bringing you. my mom literally texted me today to remind me to get you to come.”

“that’s insane.”

“is it?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “we’re doing this, aren’t we? you and me?” he motioned between their bodies.

she looked up at him. his eyes were soft. no pressure. just a question wrapped in hope.

and she realized she already knew her answer. because somewhere along the way, wanting him had become as natural as breathing—and the thought of stepping back now felt impossible. even if she tried, even if she told herself she should, she knew she couldn’t stay away from him. he was in her chest, in her pulse, stitched into the quiet spaces of her day.

so she nodded. slow, certain and let out a breath. “okay.”

his face lit up, something quiet and pleased behind his eyes.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “i’ll come.”

her lips were still parted from the word okay when he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over the corner of her mouth—not quite a celebration, more like gratitude. something warm. reverent.

she didn’t pull back this time. just stayed there, curled between his legs on the couch, her hands fisted lightly in the hem of his hoodie, her cheek pressed to his chest again. the screen played on in front of them, but neither of them were watching.

his thumb stroked up and down the bare skin of her arm, slow and steady. anchoring.

“you’re gonna love it,” he whispered. “i can’t wait to show you my roots"

“you don’t think we’re moving too fast?” she asked again, quietly, almost to herself.

his hand stilled for a beat, then settled flat against her skin.

“no,” he said simply.

she tilted her head to look up at him, her brow pinched in a soft, uncertain line.

“auston…”

he met her gaze, calm and unwavering. “we’re not teenagers anymore.”

she blinked. “okay, well, we’re barely—”

“we’re not kids anymore,” he corrected gently, his palm warming the curve of her arm. “we’ve lived some life. we’ve seen what works, what doesn’t. you know who you are now. i know who i am.”

she swallowed thickly.

“and i know that when i wake up, i want you there. when something good happens, i want to tell you. when something bad happens, i want to hear your voice.”

her lips parted, her heart thudding hard against her ribs.

“that’s not 'fast',” he continued, voice quiet. “that’s clarity.”

she went still, her fingers tightening against his chest.

“i’ve never had this before,” he added, slower now. “not like this. not with someone who makes the rest of my life feel… easier.”

her throat felt tight in the best kind of way.

he dipped his head, brushing their noses together. “i think we’re moving at the exact pace we’re supposed to. and if it ever feels like too much, we talk about it. because we’re grown now. we can do that.”

her breath caught. “you’ve… really thought about this.”

“you make it impossible not to,” he said with a lopsided smile.

she looked down for a moment, overwhelmed in the quietest way. then she leaned up, kissing him once—soft and slow, her hands threading into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“when do we leave?” she whispered, pulling back only enough to murmur against his lips.

his smile deepened. “two weeks from friday.”

“okay,” she whispered again.

“and you get to meet everyone,” he said, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “my aunts, uncles, cousins, all of my mom's side and let me preface by saying there are a lot of us”

“god, how am going to remember all their names.”

“you'll do it like you do everything with grace. they’ll love you anyway.”

“i’m going to bring a notebook.”

he laughed, chest vibrating beneath her palms. “you’re such a nerd.”

“you like it,” she challenged.

he dipped his head again, lips ghosting over hers. “you have no idea how much.”

and she melted back into him again, letting herself believe—for the first time in a long time—that maybe this wasn’t just a temporary good thing.

maybe this was the start of something solid. something that could last.

auston had been sprawled on her bed since he’d walked in from hsi work out the next day, freshly showered but still flushed from the second round of off-ice workouts they were making him do ahead of his two-week trip. his hair was still damp, the edges curling faintly against his forehead as he laid there in gray sweatshorts, that didn't leave much to her imagination, his usual a white tank, a bottle of water resting on his chest like he couldn’t even be bothered to hold it up anymore.

he looked like a man recovering from war. or at least the gym. same thing, in his mind.

“you’re dramatic,” y/n said over her shoulder, kneeling beside the open luggage on the floor, folding her fourth sundress.

“i’m dying,” he groaned in response.

“you just have to get in shape to eat nonstop in mexico.”

“don’t joke about something that serious.” his voice was muffled, head tilted to the side, watching her in the sunlight pouring through the window. her hair was tied up messily, a pen lodged in it from earlier, and she was still in an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, sliding around the room with practiced ease.

he’d never seen anyone make packing look so attractive.

“what should i wear to meet your family again?” she asked, holding up two different tank tops, looking between the mirror and her reflection. “like…what’s the vibe? do they hate revealing clothes? no crop tops?”

he barely moved, just lifted his arm and propped it behind his head, a smirk tugging lazily at the edge of his lips. “preferably nothing.”

she turned, unimpressed, and chucked a pair of shorts directly at his chest. they bounced off and landed in a heap on the bed next to him.

he grinned wider, grabbed them, and sat up with effort. “i like these.”

“you like anything that gives you ideas.”

“guilty.” he stood and stretched, yawning before sauntering over to where she was still crouched beside the suitcase. she didn’t flinch as he came behind her, just kept folding. he leaned over her slightly, nosy as ever, eyes skimming the already packed items. “this is what you’re bringing?”

“yes.”

“it’s gonna be a billion degrees, you know.”

“i know.”

“you won’t need half of this,” he said, tugging on a pair of linen pants with a teasing scoff. “you’re packing pants?”

“a girl has options, auston. besides,” she shot him a look over her shoulder, “we’re staying with your family. i can’t exactly have my ass out.”

“i mean…” he lifted a brow suggestively. “i wouldn’t complain.”

“you wouldn’t,” she said, shoving a pair of sandals into the bag before zipping up one of the pouches. “but your grandma might.”

he made a face. “okay, fine. bring the pants. but also…” he wandered toward her dresser, opening the top drawer like he had every right to. “what’s this?”

“hey!” she turned, face flushing slightly. “what are you doing?”

“looking for more acceptable packing options,” he said innocently.

but his expression changed when he found it—delicate black lace folded neatly beneath a few plain bralettes. he plucked the piece up, holding it between two fingers, his grin turning downright wolfish. “and what’s this?”

“nothing for you to see. perv,” she deadpanned.

“no,” he corrected, walking back toward her slowly, still dangling it in front of her. “this is destiny.”

“auston,” she warned, biting back a smile, “put it down.”

“pack it,” he countered.

“no.”

“please.”

“absolutely not.”

he dropped to sit beside her on the bed, still holding the lace, brushing it gently across her bare knee. “if you think i’m spending two weeks sleeping beside you, knowing this is buried in some drawer back home, you are crueler than i thought.”

“if you think you’re getting any action under your parents’ roof, you’re crazier than i thought.”

“no,” he groaned, falling backward onto the bed with his arms thrown out dramatically, the lingerie tossed to the side. “you’re gonna kill me.”

she leaned over him, placing her hands on either side of his chest, watching his eyes trail from her face to the sway of her shirt. “then stop snooping.”

he reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “only if you pack it.”

“we’ll see.”

“that’s not a no.”

“it’s also not a yes,” she whispered, dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her lips barely grazing his skin.

his hands came up, palms skating under the hem of her shirt, resting on the warm skin of her hips. “you’re so sexy.”

“you’re insatiable.”

they laughed into the kiss that followed, the kind that started teasing and turned breathless, her fingers gripping the collar of his tank as she sank further into his space. by the time he rolled them, pinning her back gently into the mattress, both of them were smiling and flushed, surrounded by half-packed clothes and forgotten jokes.

he kissed down her neck, tugging her shirt up inch by inch, murmuring against her skin, “you better pack that lingerie.”

she smiled up at him, fingers dragging down his spine. “fine. but only if you’re good.”

“i'm always good for you.” he grinned earnestly.

“i’ll let you know,” she whispered, pulling him back down into her, laughter and heat tangled up like everything else between them.

they didn’t leave the bed for hours.

the suitcase stayed half-zipped at the foot, clothes folded and rumpled now, a shirt kicked off the side, her shorts somewhere near the pillows. his laughter echoed faintly beneath the breathier sounds — skin meeting skin, the hitch of a gasp when he trailed kisses lower, and the rasp of her voice calling his name like it belonged only to her.

and maybe it did.

because no matter how far he went — on the road, on the ice, across the country or two time zones away — something about this, about her, always pulled him back like gravity.

the room was quiet now. just the hum of the fan above them and the soft rhythm of their breathing, tangled in the sheets as the afternoon sun began to dip into gold through the curtains. auston had one arm behind his head again, and the other curved around her bare shoulder, her fingers drawing light circles on his chest, slow and thoughtless.

“i should finish packing,” she murmured, voice soft and thick with post-laughter haze.

“you should stay right here.” he turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “you’ve got time.”

“you’re distracting.”

“that’s literally the point.”

she laughed under her breath and turned into him slightly, the curve of her body fitting perfectly against his side. “you always win.”

he looked down at her, lips brushing her temple again. “no,” he said quietly, “you do.”

she didn’t answer right away, just curled tighter into him, letting her hand trail lower across his ribs, then flattening over his heart like she was memorizing the beat of it. he caught her hand and held it there, eyes falling closed again for a second.

“hey,” he said after a moment, voice a little rough, “when you come with me, you’re not gonna be nervous, right?”

“nervous?”

“about meeting the rest of my family. being somewhere new. i don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

“i'll try,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers. “i’ve already met your mom and sisters. if anything, i’m worried they’re gonna like me more than you.”

“please,” he scoffed, rolling slightly to pin her under his arm. “they already do.”

she giggled, squirming under him playfully as he kissed along her shoulder, then to her jaw, then finally catching her mouth again. it was slower this time, the heat softened by the intimacy, his hands smoothing down her sides as he kissed her like he had all the time in the world.

and maybe he didn’t. maybe the season would start and take him away again. but here, now, with her smiling under him and his name on her lips, the world had never felt more still.

outside smelled like sun-warmed grass and fresh rain, the kind that lingered after a late-morning drizzle. felix padded happily ahead, his paws kicking up bits of dirt as the leash trailed from y/n’s hand. her other arm was looped with auston’s, their steps slow and unhurried along the winding trail that curved through the park.

she’d packed for the day—tossed snacks into a canvas tote, filled two water bottles, even slipped in a ratty old tennis ball for felix—and now here they were, the three of them: him in a faded cap and grey hoodie, her in cutoffs and a soft crewneck that looked suspiciously like one of his.

they’d been like this for two months—wrapped up in each other so completely that the world outside barely touched them. and still, it felt new. still, it hit him sometimes, sharp and sudden, how much he liked her. how much he wanted to keep liking her.

“you packed your bag like we’re camping. not walking felix on a trail,” he teased, glancing down at the bulging tote swinging from her shoulder.

“snacks are essential,” she shot back, tossing him a look. “you get hangry every two hours. i’ve learned.”

“hangry?” he repeated, feigning offense.

“oh, please,” she laughed. “you sulk like maria, when you’re hungry. it’s annoying.”

he grinned, teeth flashing as he gave her hip a little nudge with his.

“bold words for someone wearing my clothes in public,” he murmured, low enough that it brushed against her ear like heat.

her cheeks warmed instantly, and he caught it—the way she tried to bite back a smile, eyes darting away for half a second.

“you noticed,” she said lightly, tugging at the hem.

“noticed?” he echoed, mock incredulous. “baby, i always notice. keep it coming—i like people knowing you have a man."

she rolled her eyes but the flush crept down her neck, and he felt that stupid swell of pride in his chest—the one that always came when he caught her in something of his, like it marked her in a way no one else got to see.

felix trotted ahead, tail wagging, nose to the grass, and auston squeezed her arm gently, steering her around a muddy patch before dropping his hand to lace their fingers together instead. her palm was warm, small against his, and he rubbed his thumb over the dip of her knuckles like he couldn’t stop himself.

“you okay?” she asked after a beat, voice softer now.

“perfect,” he said simply, and it was the truth.

they walked a little longer before the trail opened into a clearing dotted with wildflowers and a few scattered benches. she slowed, eyes sweeping the open space, then dropped the tote on the grass with a quiet thud.

“snack break?” he guessed.

“you read my mind,” she grinned, sinking onto the blanket she’d pulled from the bag. felix immediately plopped down beside her, tongue lolling, while auston stretched out behind her, propping himself on one elbow.

it was quiet for a while—just the sound of birds overhead, the rustle of leaves, her laugh when felix tried to nose his way into the snack bag. and then—he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at the curve of her jaw.

“you know,” he said, eyes catching hers, “you’ve gotten… bold.”

she blinked. “bold?”

“mhmm,” he hummed, dragging the pad of his thumb slowly across her cheekbone. “pda was, like, your personal nightmare when we met.”

she scoffed, grabbing a piece of fruit from the container between them. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“is it?” he teased, leaning in just enough for his breath to fan across her lips. “first time i tried to kiss you in public, you looked like you were about to file a restraining order.”

she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “i did not.”

“you flinched.”

“i was surprised!”

he smirked, eyes dropping briefly to her mouth before finding hers again. “and now?”

she hesitated, then shrugged, casual—except her pulse was jumping against his fingers where they rested on her neck.

“now,” she murmured, “i kind of like it.”

that did something to him—sharp and deep. because kind of like it didn’t even begin to cover the way she leaned into him now, the way her knees brushed his thighs like muscle memory, the way she looked at him like the sun couldn’t compete.

“yeah?” his voice was low, rough around the edges.

“yeah,” she whispered back, and then—she kissed him.

slow at first, like the world was still holding its breath. then deeper, warmer, until he was pulling between his legs and the blanket was sliding, forgotten, into the grass. felix huffed beside them, offended by the lack of attention.

her hands curled into his hoodie, and he smiled against her mouth, smug and stupidly happy.

when she pulled back, breath shaky, he pressed his forehead to hers and murmured, “so… holding hands in public doesn’t make you wanna sprint anymore?”

“maybe not,” she admitted, cheeks pink, lips swollen.

“good,” he said, brushing his nose against hers. “because i like showing you off.”

her laugh was soft, caught in the space between them.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“and you’re mine,” he said without thinking—and then froze, because this time he said it, it felt dangerously close to something bigger. heavier.

but she didn’t pull away. didn’t tease. just smiled, quiet and sure, before kissing him again like it was the only answer he needed.

and if his chest felt like it was about to split open, well—he’d deal with that later.

for now, he lay back on the blanket with her sprawled across him, felix snoring at their feet, and thought. i could live in this moment forever.

next

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106 @siennaluvshcky @macka

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[m34tthews]

CHAPTER EIGHT

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 11k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)

an — thank you for your patience and all the support <3

masterlist

their days had started to stretch sweet and golden, stitched together with the comfort of shared toothbrushes and folded sweatshirts in each other's drawers. auston and y/n moved in a rhythm now—quiet, consistent, like two hands ticking along the same clock. felix’s leash by the door. coffee in mismatched mugs. her curled in his passenger seat with a yawn as he drove her to work, always five minutes early just to sit in the parking lot with her. sometimes he dropped off lunch with a grin, other times he lingered at the clinic, chatting with her boss in the staff room as if he belonged—and truthfully, he did. her coworkers had started referring to him as your guy, and auston would just smile, the good kind that pressed dimples into his cheeks.

they didn’t always sleep together. well—they did, but on nights when she had early clients or morning evaluations, she’d kiss his forehead, whisper something about needing rest, and go curl up in her own bed. auston never liked it, not really. neither did she. the space felt colder when they weren’t tangled up in each other, but she was disciplined, always thinking ahead. and he respected that. even if he lay on the couch staring at the ceiling for too long before falling asleep.

that morning had been one of those. she’d stayed over, kissed him softly just after five, and slipped out of the room so he wouldn’t wake. he had grumbled in his sleep, reaching for her. by the time he blinked awake, she was already gone.

he’d planned to pick her up after her shift. even texted her around lunch and offered to bring something, but she said she’d eaten already. still, he was antsy all afternoon, checking the clock, thinking about her laugh, the scent she left on his hoodie, the way she leaned her head against the car window and hummed when she was tired.

he walked into her clinic ten minutes before she wrapped, fully expecting to sit and scroll or maybe peek in if she was in one of the break rooms. but then he heard it—soft at first. a kind of muffled sniffling. not dramatic. not attention-seeking. just raw.

his chest tightened instantly.

he followed the sound with quiet steps, turning the corner toward the closed consult room, and when he opened the door, the breath left his lungs.

she was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, head buried, shoulders trembling. her white coat hung loosely from her frame, her name tag askew. her bun had come undone at the nape of her neck, pieces falling around her face.

“hey—hey, hey,” he said quickly, rushing in, his voice low but urgent. “what’s going on?”

she didn’t answer at first, only cried harder when she saw him. he was down beside her in seconds, pulling her into his chest, his arms locking around her tightly as she sank into him like she’d been waiting for it all day. he kissed her temple, then her forehead, his hand soothing up and down her back as he whispered her name.

“i’ve got you,” he said softly. “i’m here. you’re okay, baby.”

her hands fisted into his shirt, face pressed to his chest. the sound of her crying was unbearable. he hated it. he hated seeing her like this. it was the kind of pain that made his ribs ache with helplessness.

he adjusted, sitting back on the small couch, and gently guided her into his lap, one arm around her waist, the other wiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“please talk to me,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her eyes. “it breaks my heart to see you cry, baby. please…”

she blinked up at him, lashes wet, nose red. her voice was hoarse. “i had to put a dog down today.”

auston’s expression softened instantly, thumb still moving gently beneath her eye.

“he was old,” she continued, “but he wagged his tail. even on the table. he was so good. and the owner—she was shaking. she kissed his head and thanked me. thanked me. and i just—”

her voice cracked again, and she broke, burying her face back in his chest.

“you don’t have to say it all now,” he murmured, “just breathe. you did everything right. i know you did.”

“it’s just been a long week,” she whispered, quieter now. “a couple of the kids i see—they’re not improving. and now this.”

he held her tighter, anchoring her with his body, his warmth.

“you carry so much,” he said against her hair. “and you still show up. you’re still the best at what you do.”

“i didn’t feel like it today,” she mumbled.

“even on your worst day, you’re incredible. you hear me?”

she nodded into his shirt, drawing in a slow breath. she didn’t cry again, just let herself sink into him, let the steady beat of his heart soothe her in a way nothing else could. he stayed quiet now, just running his hand over her back, fingers slipping beneath the edge of her coat where her blouse had come untucked.

eventually, she pulled back enough to look up at him. her eyes were still puffy, but the tears had dried.

“you’re gonna ruin your shirt,” she whispered.

he smiled a little. “worth it.”

“i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“and miss the chance to hold you when you need it?” he shook his head gently. “not a chance.”

her throat bobbed. “thank you.”

he kissed her again, softer this time, just below her eye. “you don’t have to thank me. just let me be here for you.”

and she did. she leaned in, her forehead against his, and breathed him in like he was the only thing tethering her to the ground.

outside the room, the rest of the clinic carried on. but in that little bubble—just the two of them, a couch too small, and a moment too big—they found their stillness again.

a few moments later, the knock was soft, tentative—followed by the creak of the door opening just enough to let in the silhouette of her boss, voice gentle.

“hey,” he said, eyes flickering between auston and y/n curled against his chest, “i… heard. i’m really sorry.”

y/n straightened slightly, blinking the wet from her lashes, her voice hoarse as she moved to sit upright from auston’s lap. “i’m okay,” she tried, wiping beneath her eyes quickly. “i can keep going. i’m fine.”

her boss stepped in, face full of quiet sympathy. “you’re not. and that’s okay,” he said. “y/n, you don’t have to pretend in here.”

she opened her mouth again, trying for composure, but he gently cut her off with a small raise of his hand.

“auston,” he turned slightly, addressing him now, “you can take her for the rest of the day. i’ll close things up.”

“really,” she said again, already pushing off of auston’s lap, sitting beside him now, her palms pressed to her thighs. “i don’t want to leave anyone short. i can handle it.”

“you can,” her boss agreed kindly, “but you shouldn’t have to. not today. this morning took a toll on all of us. he was a good dog. and you were his comfort in the end. that stays with a person.”

y/n dropped her gaze to her hands.

“i’m going to do a few check-ups,” he continued, “and then we’ll close early. spend time with your loved ones. it’s not good to keep everything bottled up.”

auston glanced over at her the moment the words left his mouth. loved ones. it hovered in the air for a beat too long.

he watched her carefully—eyes soft, studying the twitch of her mouth, the way she nodded slowly, wiping beneath her eye with the heel of her hand.

“okay,” she said finally, voice quiet. “thank you.”

her boss gave her a small, meaningful hug before stepping back. “take care of yourself, y/n. that’s not just advice I give to clients.”

he left with a reassuring smile, closing the door behind him.

as soon as it clicked shut, auston turned to her, one arm already curling around her back, voice low.

“i’m gonna take care of you,” he said with quiet conviction. “we’ll go home. order your favorite. lie around with felix. or we don’t do anything at all. whatever you need.”

y/n looked up at him, eyes still tired but heart warm. she leaned into his shoulder again, nodding softly.

“anything. just… don’t leave,” she whispered.

he kissed her temple. “i won’t.”

the bed of auston’s truck was warm beneath them, softened by a spare blanket he kept in the back for post-skate cooldowns and now, nights like this. the pizza box lay open between them, crusts half-eaten and growing cold, and the tub of ice cream sat dangerously close to melting on the folded flannel between their legs. the sun had long dipped behind the horizon, streaking the sky in burnt pink and sleepy lavender, the breeze picking up as the city lights far below flickered to life one by one.

she hadn’t said much since they got there.

not out of discomfort—just a quiet heaviness he didn’t press on. auston knew her enough now to let the silence speak for her, and tonight, it did.

felix snoozed somewhere behind them, the smell of oregano and sweet cream lingering in the air, and auston just waited. occasionally grazing her hand with his thumb, brushing her knee, letting her be still until she was ready.

it took a while.

her voice was soft when it came. “i didn’t always know.”

he looked over at her, giving her his full attention.

“that i wanted to be a vet,” she clarified, eyes on the lights below. “i didn’t figure that out until a bit after i started undergrad.”

he stayed quiet, letting her go on.

“i was originally in management,” she said, almost like she couldn’t believe it herself. “business admin or something like that. my parents thought it was smart. i thought it was safe. i hated every second of it.”

auston’s brow furrowed. he nudged her gently. “you? hating school?”

she smiled faintly. “worst time of my life, first semester. i was so… lost. i didn’t know what i was doing or why. i didn’t make friends. i barely went to class. i cried more than i care to admit.”

he hated picturing that. her, curled in on herself somewhere in a too-big lecture hall, folding in on all the parts of her he knew now were made to shine.

“my mom noticed,” she said after a beat, voice smaller. “i’d come home and just… go straight to my room. barely ate. slept all the time. they didn’t push, not at first. but then she sat me down and told me i needed to find something that didn’t feel like punishment. that maybe i should try volunteering. see if something felt like me.”

she shifted a bit, pulling her knees to her chest. “so i did. animal shelter near our place. i thought it’d just be for the credit. but then… it wasn’t.”

auston leaned against the side of the truck, elbow on the rim, chin resting on his palm as he watched her speak.

“they needed people to walk the dogs and clean cages. basic stuff. but something about it… the way those animals looked at you. like you mattered. like they were scared but still chose to trust you. i hadn’t felt like that mattered to anyone in a long time. it gave me more than just joy. it gave me purpose.”

she looked at him then, really looked at him. “it was the first time in months i didn’t feel like disappearing.”

auston’s chest clenched. she hadn’t told him this before. not in this way.

he reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers slowly.

“you know,” he said, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, “that version of you you’re describing? that lost girl who didn’t want to be seen? i would’ve never guessed.”

she smiled, barely.

“all i ever saw back then,” he said quietly, “was someone who made the smartest people in the room look average. who let me copy her answers and then made me feel stupid for not getting it. you were so sure. so… you.”

her laugh was brittle. “i wasn’t always.” a pause, then quieter: “and i still don’t feel like that most days.”

he tilted his head, studying her.

“how is it,” she said, voice breaking a little, “that i can walk into that gala, have people call me brilliant, talented… and then have days where i can’t even get through the damn afternoon without feeling like i’m failing?”

his chest ached at how broken she sounded.

“because you’re human,” he said softly. “and because you care. the work you do—it’s heavy. it’s messy and unpredictable and hard as hell. people forget that loving something doesn’t make it easy.”

she blinked fast, biting her lip.

he tugged her until she leaned over and settled between his legs, her back against his chest, his arms curling around her.

“you know what i think?” he murmured against her temple. “you’re the most capable person i know. and the fact that you still question yourself? that just means you give a shit. it means you want to be better. that’s not failure, y/n. that’s strength.”

her breath stuttered.

“it’s hard,” he added, softer now, “feeling like you’re failing at something you’re suppose to be good at. happens to me all the time.”

that made her turn her head just enough to glance at him. “really?” she asked, disbelief curling into her voice. “auston matthews? mr. multiple 60-goal seasons?”

his lips twitched. “i forgot you’re a hockey enthusiast now”

“sue me,” she said flatly, cheeks warming despite the night air. “i get curious sometimes. want to know how many people scream your name on any given night.”

he laughed then, easy and bright, and she felt it vibrate through his chest into her bones.

“those season?” he went on, voice gentler now. “yeah, it was a big deal. but it wasn’t perfect. i had stretches where i felt off. or useless. especially this past season. i was out of my element . like nothing i did would matter, no matter how many people were cheering.”

she turned slightly, watching his profile in the soft spill of light. he looked serious now, thoughtful.

“the season’s long,” he said, “and sometimes the only reason i make it through is because i have teammates. guys who hold me accountable. who remind me what i’m capable of when i forget.”

he looked down at her, voice steady.

“you don’t have that. not in the same way. you carry all of it—your clients, your staff, the lives you save—on your own shoulders every single day.”

her lip wobbled, and she blinked hard.

“you’re amazing, y/n. you’re smart, and patient, and so goddamn good at what you do. you love what you do. that’s rare. and the animals? they love you for it. felix is in love with you, and he’s a terrible judge of character,” he said lightly, kissing her hair when she gave a watery laugh.

his arms tightened around her, anchoring. “you don’t need to be perfect every day,” he whispered. “you just need to let someone show up for you. even if it’s just to eat ice cream and say nothing for a while.”

she turned in his arms, folding herself into his chest, and he wrapped himself around her like a second skin—warm and steady and unshakable.

“you’re not failing,” he added after a moment. “you’re just tired. and when you’re tired, i want to be the person you lean on. like i lean on my guys when the puck’s not going in.”

“auston,” she whispered, voice tight.

he kissed the corner of her mouth, gentle. “let me be your teammate, baby. i’ve got you.”

the buzz of the tattoo machine thrummed low, blending into the soft music spilling from a speaker in the corner. the shop smelled faintly of antiseptic and ink, sterile yet warm under the muted glow of overhead lights. y/n sat cross-legged on a small black stool, close enough to feel the heat radiating off auston as he stretched out on the padded table.

“you doing okay?” he asked gently, his voice soft enough to cut through the hum. he remembered the way she’d unraveled just last week, all quiet tears and shaky breaths that cracked something in him. how he’d held her in the dark, his arms the only thing keeping her from disappearing into the weight of it all.

she nodded slowly. “i’m okay.” and she meant it—at least more than she had then. colour had crept back into her cheeks these past few days, the heaviness loosening its grip bit by bit. maybe because every time she started to crumble, he was just there. no questions, no judgment—just steady hands and warm silence.

she’s not sure if, or when, she’s ever felt so cared for. but with auston, it was a given.

his shirt was long gone—tossed carelessly onto the counter—and her eyes had been wandering ever since. the full sleeve on his left arm was a masterpiece, black and grey ink flowing up to his shoulder like art carved in skin. from there, it melted into the scripture etched across his chest, delicate but bold, words that shifted with the rise and fall of his breathing. on the right side of his collarbone sat something simpler—three small initials, clean and permanent, resting close to his heart.

“this one,” she murmured, leaning forward, fingertip hovering just above the initials, “these are for…?”

“my sisters and my mom,” auston said, voice soft even under the low hum of the machine. his lips curved faintly. “figured they’d kill me if i didn’t make space for them.”

“smart,” she said with a small smile, brushing her thumb over her own wrist absentmindedly. then, tilting her head, “so… is the other arm next? planning on going full mural?”

he huffed a laugh, eyes flicking toward her. “eventually. maybe. haven’t decided yet.”

“hm.” her gaze drifted over his right arm, all bare skin and veins. “leave it like this, you’ve got balance. fill it in, and you’ll look like… a walking art exhibit.”

his brow arched. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“i’m saying…” she leaned in slightly, voice playful, eyes flicking over the ink on his chest before meeting his again, “i might have a preference.”

he grinned slow. “careful, you’re about to have input on permanent decisions.”

“maybe i should,” she teased. “someone needs to stop you from tattooing the entire stanley cup on your ribcage in the future.”

his jaw ticked as he tried not to laugh. “hilarious.”

“and right,” she added, then softened as her eyes dropped to the scripture curling across his chest. “seriously, though. this—” her fingertip grazed the first line, featherlight, “it’s beautiful.”

his breath hitched. just barely. but enough.

“you keep staring,” he muttered, lips twitching. “you gonna admit you’re into my tattoos or keep pretending?”

“you want me to stroke your ego?” she shot back, though her eyes didn’t leave the ink. “that’s greedy.”

“you’re the one sitting here looking like you wanna climb me,” he fired back, voice dropping, lazy grin tugging at his mouth.

“please,” she scoffed—but when she leaned in and pressed her lips just above the scripture, slow and deliberate, the way his jaw locked told her exactly how close she’d hit.

“you’re gonna get me tattoos smudged,” he rasped.

she smiled against his skin. “just… distracted.”

he barely had time to respond before the artist returned, gloves snapping, the machine buzzing back to life. y/n straightened, biting back a smirk as auston muttered something that sounded suspiciously like evil woman.

she settled back, pretending innocence, though her eyes kept drifting—over the sharp lines of his sleeve, the script stretched across his chest like it had always belonged there, the quiet initials near his collarbone. and he felt it—her gaze—because after a while, his lips curled without looking at her.

“you’re still staring.”

"don't flatter yourself. i've never seen a someone get a tattoo in person,” she murmured.

“or maybe you like me,” he said, smirk deepening, eyes cutting to hers just long enough to make her stomach flip.

she didn’t answer. not out loud. just tilted her head, slow and deliberate, before leaning in one more time and pressing a kiss where the scripture ended—warm, lingering, smug. when she pulled back, his jaw was so tight she thought it might crack.

“you,” he said, voice low enough that only she could hear, “are in so much trouble when this is done.”

and she smiled like the devil, folding her arms and crossing her legs. because honestly? she couldn’t wait.

after a beat, the artist glanced at her. “you thinking of getting one too?”

she blinked. “me?”

“yeah, you’ve been eyeing the flash on the wall for a while,” he said, nodding to the framed sketches behind her. “first time in a shop?”

she smiled sheepishly. “is it that obvious?”

“nah,” he shrugged. “just got the look of someone who hasn’t decided what they want yet.”

auston, still very shirtless and very annoyed, smirked. “she should get my number tatted. right here.” he tapped his hipbone suggestively.

“bold of you to assume i’d want your number permanently inked on my body,” y/n fired back without missing a beat.

the artist snorted. “well now i want to know—what would you get?”

y/n tilted her head, joking slipping into something softer. “i don’t know. maybe something for my family. my grandfather was a painter—he used to paint roses and gift them to us on birthdays or milestones. they were… beautiful. delicate but bold.”

auston stopped looking at her like she was a menace then. his eyes softened, lingering.

“he passed when i was fifteen,” she said quietly. “but his paintings are still around my parents’ house. it’d be nice to carry something of his with me.”

the artist nodded. “something like that would make a great first piece. personal always trumps trendy.”

auston rested his hand on her knee, thumb brushing gently. “he’d like that,” he murmured. “a rose for your grandpa.”

she smiled, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “yeah. maybe i will.”

the artist stepped out again, leaving the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint antiseptic in the air. auston stayed stretched out on the leather, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his stomach where his abs tensed every time she looked too long—and of course, he noticed.

“you keep staring,” he said again, smirk curling. “admit it—you’re obsessed.”

“maybe i just like good art,” she whispered. “maybe i like what it’s on more.”

that made him grin slow and sharp. he reached up, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her jaw before settling beneath her chin. “you’re playing with fire, y/n,” he murmured.

“am i?”

she kissed him again—this time just above his heart, lingering like she was branding the ink for herself. he tensed, muttering a quiet fuck as she pulled back with a smug little smile.

“you,” he rasped, “are in for it.”

“looking forward to it,” she whispered back.

and just as he leaned up to kiss her—the door creaked open.

auston groaned and dropped his head back. y/n tried not to look too pleased with herself.

the sun had barely cracked through the blinds when her phone started buzzing on the nightstand.

y/n didn’t move at first — too warm, too content, too wrapped up in limbs that weren’t hers. auston was half on top of her, their legs tangled together, his hand resting over her hip, lips brushing the slope of her jaw from where he had been sleepily kissing her just seconds ago.

the buzz came again, louder this time, and she groaned, fingers blindly reaching out until her hand found the phone.

“ignore it,” auston mumbled, voice low and still thick with sleep. “they’ll call back.”

“it’s naomi,” she whispered, blinking at the screen. “i have to answer. it’s her birthday.”

“you called her at midnight,” he muttered, arm tightening around her waist. “that counts.”

“not according to her,” she said, already swiping to answer the facetime. she sat up against the headboard just as naomi’s face filled the screen, already glammed and glowing despite it being checks clock not even 9 a.m.

“finally!” naomi cried. “i’ve been blowing up your phone. why are you in bed?! get up, it’s a national holiday!”

auston groaned beside her and pulled the covers over his head.

“you literally just flew in last night,” y/n said with a laugh. “you’re lucky i even got a hold of you at midnight.”

“and you’re lucky i accepted that half-dead whisper of a birthday wish,” naomi shot back. “now get home. we’ve got nails, hair, potentially a wax if i can squeeze it in.”

auston poked his head out just then, brow raised. “wax?”

y/n smacked his chest without even looking. “don’t start.”

naomi rolled her eyes. “oh, great. you’ve already been kidnapped.”

“not kidnapped,” auston muttered. “she’s here willingly.”

“debatable,” naomi sniffed. “the only way i’m forgiving you for hoarding her this long is if you bring hot hockey men to my dinner tonight. single ones. with visible jawlines and emotional intelligence.”

“emotional intelligence is a tall order,” y/n said, grinning.

“i have faith,” naomi deadpanned. “now, babe, seriously. i need you here. i only have, like, a few years left before you go full domestic — married, kids, boring — and i’m trying to milk our youth while i still can.”

auston sat up slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. “wow. thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” she replied sweetly. “see you soon, babe. and bye, boyfriend,” she added with exaggerated disinterest before hanging up.

y/n stared at the blank screen and sighed. “i need to go.”

auston collapsed back onto the pillows with a dramatic exhale. “i figured.”

“you know how she is,” she said, sliding off the bed and padding toward her suitcase. “she’s been planning this day for months. down to the playlist and how our coffees match our outfits.”

he propped himself on an elbow, watching her tug on leggings. “i know. i just thought i had a few more hours.”

“you can nap,” she said, pulling on a cropped zip hoodie. “dream of me.”

“can’t nap if i’m grieving.”

she snorted, zipping up. “you’re being dramatic.”

“maybe i like having you to myself,” he said softly, gaze lingering on her as she moved around the room.

she paused, looking over her shoulder. “you’re sweet when you pout.”

“you’re mean when you leave,” he said back, teasing but soft beneath it.

as she walked back over, brushing her hair behind her ear, she said, “naomi thinks she’s on a deadline.”

“a deadline?”

“yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “she says she only has a few more years before she settles down and has babies.”

auston blinked, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “she might be onto something”

“she’s manifesting,” y/n replied, grinning as she leaned down and kissed him.

he kissed her back lazily, hand slipping up her spine.

“don’t tempt me to stay,” she murmured against his mouth.

“too late,” he said, kissing her again — slower this time, a hand still buried in her hoodie strings, trying to pull her back down.

but she laughed, pulling away with a gentle shove. “i’ll be back before you can miss me.”

“already do,” he muttered as she slipped on her sneakers.

she paused at the doorway, hand resting on the frame, and looked back at him — all golden skin and rumpled sheets, lips bitten pink from their morning and eyes so soft they undid her a little.

she crossed the room one last time, pressed one more kiss to his lips, and whispered, “happy naomi day. i'll see you later tonight”

then she was gone — sneakers squeaking down the hallway, leaving behind the scent of her perfume and the ache of a morning not quite finished.

the salon smelled like lavender and eucalyptus — calm and clean, with a quiet hum of dryers and soft jazz from the overhead speakers. y/n was mid-hand massage, her nails painted a sheer nude, when naomi finally leaned back in her chair and sighed dramatically.

“okay. now that we’re officially seated, caffeinated, and soaking in luxury — tell me everything.”

y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “you already know everything.”

“don’t play with me. i know what you let me know. i want the real stuff. like, when did we officially become boyfriend and girlfriend?”

y/n smiled softly, eyes dropping to her lap. “after the ASU gala.”

naomi’s jaw dropped. “shut up. you waited this long to tell me?”

“we were… kind of already acting like it,” y/n shrugged. “but that night… it just felt right. we talked after, like really talked, and then he asked.”

naomi grinned, absolutely beaming. “i knew that night was magic. you looked unreal, by the way. like a trophy wife. actually, better.”

“you’re insane,” y/n laughed.

“i’m right,” naomi said. “and you’re glowing. annoyingly so.”

y/n looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as her tech guided her toward the UV dryer.

“it’s just been… really good,” she said softly. “like, I-wake-up-smiling good. and sometimes it freaks me out. like, i’m waiting for the shoe to drop.”

naomi’s teasing eased, gaze softening as she turned to her. “maybe there’s no shoe. maybe it’s just… your turn. for good things.”

y/n blinked, throat tightening.

“you deserve it,” naomi said gently. “you always have.”

they sat in the quiet for a few moments, soft hum of dryers filling the space. and then, of course, naomi’s voice broke through with all the grace of a jackhammer.

“now tell me about the sex.”

y/n choked on a laugh. “naomi!”

“you owe me! i tell you about all my hookups and failed dates remember? the one who made me split the uber and the appetizer? i earned this.”

y/n gave her a look but couldn’t suppress her grin. “fine. it was…”

naomi leaned in dramatically.

she paused, “really good.”

naomi slapped her thigh. “you bitch!”

y/n covered her face, muffling her laugh. “it was good! like, slow and… i don’t know, just real. like he wanted me to feel everything.”

“ugh,” naomi groaned. “i need a boyfriend. or at least someone with a jawline and patience.”

her second hand had just been set under the dryer when her phone buzzed again beside her thigh. she glanced down instinctively, eyes catching on the venmo notification that slid across her lockscreen. it took a second to register — and then her breath hitched.

she blinked at the amount. her brows lifted. audibly.

“what?” naomi asked immediately, leaning in suspiciously. “what’s that face?”

y/n stared at her screen like it had offended her. “he just—he venmoed me.”

naomi’s mouth parted. “for what?”

“for…” she hesitated, still trying to wrap her head around the ridiculous figure attached. “hair. nails. and apparently anything else i want today.”

“no. show me.” she gasped

“no.”

“you suck,” naomi whined. “but also… your man’s insane.”

y/n didn’t respond. instead, she picked up her phone and tapped his name, lifting the screen to her ear while her free hand rested carefully under the blue glow of the dryer.

it rang twice before she heard his voice, low and boyish, the subtle wind in the background giving away that he was somewhere outdoors.

“hey, baby.”

his voice curled around her chest, warm and familiar.

“what are you doing?” she asked, already smiling.

“tee time,” he said casually. “you just interrupted my swing.”

she rolled her eyes, quieting her voice as the nail tech moved on to naomi beside her. “then maybe don’t send me that much money and i won’t feel like i have to call you and refuse it.”

he chuckled, and she could hear the grin in it. “i’m not taking it back.”

“auston—”

“it’s for your day,” he cut in, voice softening. “go get your hair done. get your disgustingly sweet coffee. let naomi to boss you around and complain even though you love spending time with. i’ll see you tonight.”

she flushed. “you’re unreal.”

“and you’re hot,” he replied. “how’s the colour?”

she glanced at her drying nails, still under the lamp. “you’ll love it.”

he hummed, pleased. “will it match what you’re wearing tonight?”

her lip tugged into a smile as she leaned back, letting her voice dip low and sweet. “you’ll have to wait and see.”

he exhaled a laugh, like he could already picture it. “so you are trying to kill me before i lay eyes on you tonight”

“not before the party,” she teased.

“my girl,” he said, “so considerate.”

“sure.”

“you sound good,” he added after a beat, voice quieter. “happy.”

“i am.”

“good,” he murmured. “i’ll see you tonight.”

she lingered just a second before whispering, “can’t wait.”

when she hung up, she found naomi smirking at her with both hands under her dryer like the nosiest villain.

“i don’t know how you expect me to stay sane with this being your real life,” she said. “like. is this what being in love looks like? because i feel like i could cry and vomit at the same fine.”

“shut up,” y/n giggled, cheeks flushed.

“shut up,” naomi mimicked in a high-pitched mock voice. “i need to look perfect tonight maybe i’ll meet the love of my life and get loved up like you.”

“i have no doubt you will,” y/n said, still dazed, still glowing. “it’s naomi day, remember?”

“damn right it is,” naomi grinned. “and you are going to look so hot. he’ll go into cardiac arrest.”

“don’t worry,” y/n said, smirking. “he won’t even know what hit him.” they both deviously looked at each other getting ready for what they had in store for him.

the night started like every other time his friends dragged him out—except, apparently, they were all in on roasting him.

“well look what we have here. auston matthews,” clay drawled as they slid into the booth, bass vibrating through the floor. “voluntarily entering a club.. didn’t think i’d live to see it. you've been getting old on me”

“you’ve been out with me before,” auston deadpanned, shrugging out of his jacket.

“yeah, like three off-seasons ago,” another voice chimed in, followed by laughter. “you’ve gone full hermit since then.”

“you’re old, man,” clayton grinned, elbowing him. “and whipped as hell.”

auston leaned back against the leather, one arm stretching lazily across the top of the booth. “settled down,” he corrected, calm as ever.

they all groaned. “same difference.”

“nah,” auston said, scanning the crowd. “there’s a difference.”

“yeah?” clay lifted a brow. “like what?”

auston didn’t hesitate. “settling down means i chose it. being whipped means i didn’t have a choice.” his mouth curved, slow and smug. “and trust me—I’d choose her every time.”

they hooted at that, drinks raised in mock salute. “god, you’re soft.”

“you’ll get it when you have a girl,” auston shot back, unbothered. he pulled out his phone, lighting up the screen for the fiftieth time tonight. notifications stacked—her texts, naomi’s stories, the playlist she sent earlier.

“jesus,” one of them groaned, leaning over. “you’re actually checking her stories at the table.”

“and?” auston didn’t even glance up, scrolling through her best friend’s obnoxious videos until he caught a flash of white silk.

his pulse kicked. holy shit.

he slid the phone back into his pocket before they could clock the shift in his expression, fingers curling against his thigh as they drained their drinks and headed toward the ropes.

the second they stepped inside, the club swallowed them whole—dark corners, pulsing neon, bodies moving like water under the beat. naomi’s section wasn’t hard to find; she was a glowing center of chaos, perched on a couch in bright red, arms thrown up like she owned the place.

“you see her?” clay asked, jerking his chin toward the booth.

auston didn’t answer. couldn’t.

because she was there. right there, on the cushions beside naomi, pulled up into the orbit of flashing lights and champagne bubbles, and it hit him like a gut punch.

ivory satin. short enough that the hem flirted with the tops of her thighs every time she moved. the neckline dipped, delicate straps skimming her shoulders, the silk hugging curves he knew by heart now but still made him ache like the first time. her hair caught the glow, and her laugh—god, he could see it, even across the room—lit something up in his chest he hadn’t felt all night.

“holy…” one of the guys let out a low whistle. “that’s your girl?”

auston dragged his gaze away long enough to smirk. “yeah.”

“bro, she’s—”

“don’t finish that,” auston warned, but his mouth tilted anyway because yeah, he knew. he knew exactly what she looked like.

she hadn’t seen him yet, too busy dancing with naomi, hips swaying to the beat, her arms loose around her friend’s neck. then, like the universe hated him—or loved him—she glanced up. found him across the chaos.

and god, when she smiled at him, his lungs forgot how to work.

he didn’t even remember weaving through the crowd—just the heat of the music, the weight of his own pulse as her smile widened like a dare. by the time he reached the booth, naomi had already clocked him, grinning like she’d manifested the entire scene.

but y/n didn’t wait for him to say a word. the second his hand found her waist, she hopped down from the couch, satin brushing against his knuckles, and kissed him like she’d been waiting all night. no hesitation, no glance around to check who was watching. just lips parting against his, her arms curling up and around his neck as the bass thrummed under their feet.

auston groaned into it, low and rough, one hand spanning the small of her back, pulling her flush like she belonged there—like there wasn’t anyone else in the room. because as far as he was concerned, there wasn’t.

when she finally pulled back, her lip gloss smudged against his mouth, his breath hitched like he’d sprinted a mile. “jesus,” he muttered, forehead dropping to hers with a grin tugging at his lips. “that’s one way to say hi.”

“you like it?” she teased, voice light but eyes glinting with something darker.

“like it?” his thumb brushed the curve of her jaw, tilting her face so he could take her in. “been thinking about this since the second you answered that facetime this morning.” his gaze drifted up, and his brows shot. “and… hold on.” he caught a strand between his fingers, the soft highlights glinting under the strobe lights. “this is new.”

she smirked, fingers playing with the knot of his tie-less collar. “figured no better time to go back to highlights. it’s summer after all.”

“you didn’t tell me.”

“i asked you what you thought about it,” she reminded, tapping a manicured nail against his chest.

his laugh rumbled out, warm and unfiltered. “this why you were fishing for opinions? you look…” his eyes skimmed over her slowly, deliberately, stopping at the hair, then back to her lips. “fucking unreal, baby.”

heat climbed up her neck, even as she tried to play it cool. “just highlights,” she said, lifting her drink to her mouth.

“yeah?” his eyes dipped to the pale polish wrapped around the glass in her hand, and something wicked curved his mouth. “and nails too. you did all this for me?”

she sipped slowly, lashes lowering as if the music wasn’t pulsing like a heartbeat between them. “maybe. you like the colour?”

he grinned, teeth catching his bottom lip as his fingers slid down to the dip of her waist. “love it. gonna love it even more when they’re digging into my back later.”

her breath caught, just barely, and his smile turned downright lethal when he felt the shiver run through her.

“auston,” she warned softly, even though her body leaned closer, his cologne sinking into her skin.

“what?” his voice was a low drawl, his mouth grazing her ear now as he added, “you started this when you walked in looking like that. you think i’m gonna keep my hands off you all night?”

her laugh was shaky, her fingers tightening where they rested on his shirt. “this only just a preview.”

“mmm.” his nose brushed her temple as he kissed her cheek, slow and soft in contrast to the way his words curved sharp against her throat a second later: “but i’m still not letting you out of my sight, beautiful.”

before he could dip his head and steal another kiss, a loud voice cut through the music.

“well, well, if it isn’t my favorite couple!”

y/n didn’t even have to turn. naomi slid into view like she owned the whole damn club—because honestly, she might as well. red dress, glossy lips, grin wide enough to blind. she looped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, eyes sparkling with mischief as she clocked auston.

“happy birthday, trouble,” auston said with a smirk, slinging his arm around her in a side hug.

“about time you remembered who the guest of honour is,” naomi teased, though her grin softened when she hugged him quickly. “and don’t think i forgave you for kidnapping my best friend for like, a week straight.”

“you survived without her,” auston shot back easily, slipping an arm tighter around y/n’s waist. “barely,” naomi quipped, flipping her hair. then—just as her gaze drifted past his shoulder—everything shifted. her eyes widened, and her mouth curved slow, wicked.

“and who,” she said, voice pitching high like a discovery, “is this?”

auston didn’t even need to look. he already knew who stood behind him because the second naomi locked on, clayton let out a soft laugh like he’d just stepped into a trap.

“that’s clay,” auston said, fighting a grin when naomi all but sashayed around him to greet his friend. “clayton keller. he plays for the—”

“i don’t need his resume,” naomi interrupted smoothly, eyes never leaving clay as she extended her hand. “hi, birthday girl. you can call me your dream come true.”

clay blinked, then laughed, shaking her hand. “pretty sure i’m supposed to say that line.”

“not tonight,” she purred, sliding her arm through his without missing a beat. “tonight, you’re my present.”

“jesus,” auston muttered under his breath, earning a snort from y/n.

“go on, big guy,” naomi tossed over her shoulder, already pulling clay toward the dance floor with a grin that could set fire to the club. “you’ve got your person, i’ve got mine.”

auston shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes as he turned back to y/n. “she’s going to eat him alive.”

“it’s her birthday,” y/n reminded, laughing softly as her arms slipped back around his neck. "she can do whatever she wants. we have to nod in agreement when asked”

they slipped through the packed club toward the bar, auston’s hand firm and low on her back, like claiming her was second nature. the lights strobed over the sharp line of his jaw, cutting him in flashes of blue and red, and god, he looked unfair like that—relaxed but lethal, his height and the quiet weight of his presence clearing space no one dared fill.

“what do you want?” he asked, his voice pitched low as he bent to her ear, his breath warm and steady against her skin like a secret.

“vodka soda,” she managed, though her pulse jumped when he didn’t pull back right away, just lingered like he liked the way she tilted her head toward him.

he straightened, ordered without hesitation, his other hand sliding lower until it curved just above her hip, thumb brushing slow arcs like he had all the time in the world to ruin her composure. she was hyperaware of every inch of him, and maybe that’s why she didn’t notice them at first—the two guys a few feet over, eyes lingering too long—but auston did. he saw it in the way their heads tipped together, like they thought they had a chance. like they didn’t see him, right here, wrapped around her like a shield with teeth.

his jaw ticked. before she could even register, he leaned in again, voice lower now, the kind that crawled over your skin and stayed there.

“you look insane tonight,” he murmured, every word slow enough to drag heat up her spine. “you’ve got no idea what it does to me seeing you in this dress.”

her laugh was soft, teasing, but it cracked around the edges. “you’ve said that like six times already.”

“and i’ll keep saying it,” he breathed, his lips brushing her ear before pressing a kiss there—fleeting, not messy, not for show. a warning. a claim. his arm tightened around her waist as the bartender slid the drinks over, pulling her closer like he couldn’t help it.

by the time she caught the way those guys turned back toward their group, it was too late—they were gone, scattering like smoke, and auston smirked when he handed her the glass.

“problem?” she asked, one brow arched, catching the flash in his eyes.

“not anymore.” he clinked his drink against hers, voice silk over steel. “i’m good.”

they wove back through the crowd, his hand never leaving her, and she tried—god, she tried—to ignore the way it burned, that constant reminder that even here, surrounded by a hundred people, she was his orbit.

“you don’t have to—”

“don’t have to what?” he cut in smoothly, glancing down with faux innocence and something simmering underneath.

“act like you own me,” she teased, lifting her drink to her lips, like the warmth in her throat wasn’t from him.

auston leaned in until his nose brushed her hairline, his voice dropping to something smug and sharp-edged. “who said i’m acting?”

it hit low, deep, settling in a place she couldn’t touch even if she tried. because the truth of it was there—in his hand, in the heat rolling off him, in the way every look screamed that anyone watching should already know how this ended.

even though she knew he wasn’t a dancer, when she tugged his hand toward the floor, he came anyway, like he’d been waiting for the excuse. music thumped hard under their feet, bass rattling through her ribs, light slicing his face into something almost cruel, almost too beautiful.

“didn’t peg you for a dancer, matthews,” she teased, tipping her head up as her body swayed against his.

“i’m not,” he said easily, sliding an arm low around her waist until his palm curved against her hip, anchoring her like gravity. “but for you?” his lips brushed her hairline, voice curling like smoke. “different story.”

her laugh cracked into something breathless when his chest pressed flush to her back, closing the gap until there was nothing between them but heat and bass and the sharp, delicious drag of his breath at her ear.

“memorial day weekend,” she shot back, grinning over her shoulder. “you didn’t even try.”

his mouth curved, slow and lethal. “that was avril lavigne, baby,” he murmured, dragging the word like currency over his tongue. “this—” his hips rolled against her, a barely-there grind that stole her air— “is different.”

and it was. because the second her hips rolled back into his, slow and teasing, he didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate—just held her tighter, his hand sliding lower on her thigh where satin ended and skin began, thumb grazing her in a way that felt like a dare.

“auston,” she warned, but it was useless when her hands reached back, fingers curling in the hair at his nape, pulling him closer until his breath burned hot against her ear.

“you feel what you do to me?” his voice broke like gravel, hips shifting slow, controlled, wrecked with restraint. “fuck, y/n, you’ve been killing me since you walked in wearing that.”

by the time they made it back to the booth, restraint was a fragile thing—hanging by threads, fraying fast. he sat first, dragging her down with him until she was acoss his lap, the dress sliding scandalously high, satin whispering secrets across his thighs. her drink clinked onto the table, forgotten, because his hands were already on her—one gripping her waist, the other skimming the bare length of her thigh like he owned every inch.

"people could see us,” she teased, voice thin when his fingers trailed higher, flirting with the edge of lace.

“baby,” he murmured, low enough that it was only for her, “i could care less” his thumb stroked higher still, a lazy circle that made her choke on air.

“what if i put my hand here,” he whispered, adjusting her so his body blocked the world, his palm sliding just under the hem, brushing heat where it hurt the most. “would i find you wet for me? hmm?”

her laugh stuttered like a secret. “why don’t you check and find out.” her hands framed his jaw then, pulling his mouth to hers in a kiss that detonated every ounce of control he’d been clinging to.

he did check, and holy fuck—his breath hissed out sharp, ragged. “new underwear?” he rasped, breaking the kiss for half a second, forehead pressed to hers.

she nodded, lips slick and swollen, and he gripped her chin tight, forcing her gaze to his. “please tell me you bought it with the money i sent.”

she bit her lip, teeth sinking in like temptation personified. “among others.”

a curse tore from him, raw and filthy, before his mouth crushed hers again. heat curled everywhere, coiling tighter and tighter as his fingers moved slow, deliberate, coaxing her apart until she was trembling, nails biting into his shoulders like lifelines.

that’s when she did it—the subtle tilt of her hips, the soft graze of her heel dragging up his calf, the sharp point tracing slow, dangerous lines on his skin. his entire body shuddered like a live wire, jaw locked as his composure cracked.

“you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he gritted, the words vibrating against her mouth.

“then lose it,” she whispered back, and it was game over.

his hand pressed deeper, working her open until her head tipped back, lips parting on a sound swallowed by the music. she bit down on his shoulder when the world shattered, every muscle bowing tight, hips jerking helplessly against his fingers.

he kissed her through it—slow, filthy, like they weren’t in a booth with half the club around them—and when she finally collapsed against him, boneless and wrecked, he brushed his lips to her jaw, his voice molten. “remember what you said earlier? about previews?”

she made a sound, something like a laugh tangled in a groan.

“good.” his teeth scraped her pulse, promise curling in every syllable. “because i’m cashing in the second we get home.”

and then, softer, like a vow: “home . later."

the night stretched long, music pulsing in her bones like a second heartbeat. she danced until her legs ached, until her cheeks burned from laughing at naomi’s theatrics, but somewhere between one chorus and the next, the weight of it all began to creep in—the lights too bright, the crowd too thick, her chest too full.

her drink was warm now, forgotten in her hand as she swayed half-heartedly next to naomi, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach. naomi caught it immediately—she always did.

“social battery’s dead, huh?” naomi leaned close, her hair sticking to her temple, perfume sweet and heady even through the haze of the club.

“running on fumes,” y/n admitted, guilt prickling even as she laughed. “i’m the worst.”

“please,” naomi waved it off, eyes glinting with something softer. “you’ve been here since before midnight, you danced with me, you looked hot—best friend of the year, babe. now go get your man before i have to pry his eyes off you myself.”

“he’s fine,” y/n tried, but her gaze betrayed her, flicking across the room like a magnet drawn to steel. auston was exactly where she’d left him—tucked in the corner booth, long legs sprawled, one arm slung over the backrest like he owned the damn thing. even half in shadow, he looked carved from something dangerous, his jaw sharp under the dim light, his shirt clinging to broad shoulders that made her mouth dry.

and those eyes? glued to her like no one else existed.

“see?” naomi grinned, following her line of sight. “he’s practically undressing you from here. go before he combusts—and tell him i said thanks for bringing eye candy to my birthday.”

y/n laughed, pulling her into a tight hug, whispering against her ear, “happy birthday, nay. i love you.”

“i love you more. thank you for today, i couldn’t have asked for a better birthday or best friend. now leave before i shove you out myself,” naomi teased, giving her a playful smack on the butt before spinning back toward the girls.

heart pounding harder than it had all night, y/n slipped through the throng, every nerve buzzing under the heat of auston’s stare. his mouth curved slow when she stopped in front of him, a smile that was more like a dare.

“tired?” he asked, though the way he straightened, sliding his hand to her hip, said he already knew the answer.

“drained,” she admitted softly, leaning in just enough for her perfume to hit him, for his breath to catch.

“let’s go,” he murmured, simple as that—no questions, no hesitation. just the kind of certainty that made her chest tighten.

the uber ride was a blur—heat pressed thigh to thigh, his fingers tangled with hers, the city lights flashing across his face like a secret she didn’t want to keep anymore. by the time they stumbled through her front door, laughter spilled out of her mouth, muffled against his as his lips found hers the second it clicked shut.

he didn’t waste time. didn’t even try. his hands were everywhere—her waist, her back, sliding down to grip her thighs like he needed her closer, deeper. she gasped against him when her spine hit the wall, his mouth trailing down her jaw, teeth grazing her pulse.

“this fucking dress,” he groaned into her skin, voice raw, like it was clawing out of his throat.

she laughed breathlessly, fingers clutching his shirt. “you like it?”

“like it?” he dragged his mouth back to hers, kissing her until she was dizzy. “i’m obsessed with it. obsessed with you.”

she smiled against his lips, whispering, “naomi picked it. said it would make you lose it.”

his groan was guttural. “i’m buying her a fucking gift.”

she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he scooped her up like she weighed nothing. “you’re insane.”

“you love it,” he shot back, kissing her hard as he carried her down the hall, her laughter breaking into a gasp every time her back hit the wall in his haste.

by the time they reached the bedroom, they were both wrecked with want. he dropped her gently on the edge of the bed, towering over her like a storm barely contained. she looked up at him, lips swollen, eyes dark, and then—slowly—pushed at his chest.

“sit,” she murmured, voice low, almost commanding.

his brow arched, but the corner of his mouth curved, and he obeyed, sinking onto the mattress with his legs spread, forearms braced on his thighs like he knew exactly what game she was about to play.

“what are you doing, baby?” his tone was rough, curious, already unraveling.

“something i’ve been wanting to try,” she whispered, stepping between his knees, hands skimming up his chest as she kissed him again—soft first, then deeper, her tongue teasing until he groaned into her mouth.

she pushed his shirt up and off in one smooth pull, tossing it aside before her lips traced down the column of his throat. he hissed when she bit gently, his head tipping back as her mouth worked down—over his chest, his abs, every sharp line of him.

“fuck,” he breathed, muscles twitching under her kiss. “you’re killing me.”

“good,” she murmured against his skin, dropping lower, until her knees hit the floor between his spread thighs. her hands gripped them, nails pressing lightly through his jeans as she looked up, wrecked and sure all at once.

his breath hitched. “wait—”

she froze, fingers on his button. “what?”

he swallowed hard, every muscle tight. “are you drunk?”

she shook her head instantly, voice steady. “no! i only had that one drink hours ago. i just… i want this. i want you.”

his jaw clenched, resolve fraying with every second she stayed there, looking like sin on her knees. “fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face before meeting her gaze again. “you’re sure?”

“i’ve never been more sure,” she whispered, fingers finally popping the button, dragging the zipper slow, deliberate. “it’s been a long time. and i want to be good for you. will you let me be good for you, baby?”

a sound ripped from his chest, half groan, half prayer. his hands found her hair, gathering it gently as he stared down at her like she was about to ruin him completely. “you’re always good to me,” he rasped, voice almost breaking. “but fuck, baby—think you can take all of me?”

her lips curled into the softest, filthiest smile, eyes wide and bright like she was both innocent and devastating in the same breath. “i know i can,” she said, tone like a promise. “i want to make you feel so good.”

and just like that, his restraint snapped.

his breath hitched, sharp and audible in the quiet room, as her fingers slid beneath the waistband of his jeans and tugged them down over strong thighs. he lifted his hips without a word, eyes never leaving her, watching her like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to worship or devour her.

“jesus,” he muttered when she palmed him through his briefs, his head tipping back for a second, a groan spilling out that sounded like something feral. “you’re… fuck, you’re really doing this.”

she looked up at him through her lashes, voice velvet-soft but laced with mischief. “you don’t want me to?”

his eyes snapped back to hers, dark and wild. “don’t play with me, baby. you know i want you more than i’ve ever wanted anything.”

her lips brushed against his thigh as she whispered, “then let me.”

and then she was tugging his briefs down, freeing him, and his breath stuttered in his chest like he’d been sucker punched. big—bigger than she’d even imagined—and thick, flushed, heavy in her hand as she wrapped her fingers around him.

“holy shit,” she breathed, eyes flicking up to see his jaw tighten when her thumb swept across the tip, collecting the bead of precum there. “you weren’t kidding.”

he let out a strangled laugh, though it cracked into a moan when she stroked him slowly, teasing, savoring every second. “swear to god, you’re gonna fucking ruin me.” he ground out, one hand fisting the sheets while the other stayed tangled in her hair.

“that’s the plan,” she whispered, before leaning forward and licking a slow stripe from base to tip, her tongue tracing every vein, every ridge. his thighs tensed under her, a curse ripped from his chest.

he looked down at her with his free hand trailed across her collarbones and the top of her breasts. "take out your tits, baby. i need to see you" she didn't remove herself from him and instead used her free hand to drop the flimsy straps of her dress.

the sight of her glossy eyes and bare breasts was almost enough for him to finish then and there. “fuck—” his voice was raw now, broken. “baby… oh my god…”

she hummed against him, lips wrapping around the tip, sinking lower until her mouth was hot and tight around him. his hips jerked despite himself, his hand gripping her hair tighter, but still gentle—always gentle, even as his body shook with restraint.

“jesus christ,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back. “you feel so good. holy shit—keep going. just like that. fuck.”

she bobbed her head slowly at first, working him deeper, her free hand curling around the base, stroking where her mouth couldn’t reach. when she hollowed her cheeks and gave the slightest moan, his whole body shuddered.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he panted, dragging his gaze back down to her, and the sight—her, on her knees between his legs, lips stretched around him, eyes blown wide with want—snapped something deep inside him. “look at me, baby. yeah—eyes on me. god, you’re perfect.”

his voice was wrecked, and when she looked up, lips slick and pupils blown, he nearly lost it. his thighs trembled when she took him deeper, gagging just slightly before pulling back with a wet pop that had him groaning like a man on his knees for salvation.

“fuck,” he hissed, his chest heaving. “you’re insane. how are you so good at this? who taught you how to do that?" he breathlessly asked, his mind short cirucuting

she lifted her eyebrow with a smirk on her lips, "actually don't answer that."

she smirked, her voice husky as she stroked him slow and deliberate. “told you. i wanted to be good for you.”

he laughed—hoarse, broken—as his thumb brushed her swollen bottom lip. “baby, you’re not good. i am starting to think you're lethal.”

before she could tease him back, his hand was on her jaw, tilting her face up, and then he kissed her—filthy and deep, tasting himself on her tongue as he pulled her up into his lap like she weighed nothing. she straddled him instinctively, knees braced on either side, and his cock pressed hot and heavy against her soaked panties, making them both moan into each other’s mouths.

“you’re wet,” he growled against her lips, dragging his fingers down to push the flimsy fabric aside, finding her slick and ready. “all this for me?”

“always you,” she whispered, rolling her hips shamelessly against him. “been thinking about this all night.”

“you’re killing me,” he said again, forehead pressed to hers like he was praying. and then his voice dropped, dark and low. “ride me, baby. i want to feel you.”

her breath hitched, heart pounding, but the hunger in his eyes burned through every hesitation she thought she might have had. she nodded, trembling with anticipation as she ripped open a condom from her side table and reached between them to slip it on, guiding him to her entrance. the stretch stole her breath—hot, thick, perfect—and her mouth fell open as she sank down slow, inch by devastating inch.

“holy shit,” he choked, his hands gripping her hips so tight she’d feel it later. “fuck—fuck, baby—”

“you’re… so big,” she gasped, voice breaking as she bottomed out, her nails biting into his shoulders. “oh my god— i don't when i'll get use to it”

“you’re taking me so good,” he rasped, kissing her hard like he couldn’t stop himself. “so fucking perfect. mine.”

her hips rolled once, testing, and he groaned like it hurt. like it healed. “yeah,” he hissed, grinding up into her, his restraint hanging by a thread. “that’s it. ride me like you mean it.”

and she did. slow at first, teasing, until his hands took control, guiding her into a rhythm that left them both shaking, kissing between curses and broken sounds, her head tipped back as his mouth devoured her throat, her chest, every inch he could reach.

“fuck, you’re unreal,” he growled, voice ragged against her ear. “gonna make me lose my mind.”

“then lose it,” she moaned, clutching his hair, moving harder, faster. “please, aus—god—please—”

“say it,” he demanded, thrusting up into her with every word. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” she cried out, trembling apart in his arms. “only yours.”

his name tore out of her like a prayer when she came, and that was it—that was his undoing. he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries as his hips snapped up one last time before he fell apart, clinging to her like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

after, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and breath, her cheek pressed to his chest, his heart slamming against her ear like a drum. he didn’t let go. not when his breathing evened out. not when her lashes fluttered closed. his arms only tightened, his lips finding her hair as he whispered against her crown

“fuck, baby…i think you killed me.”

they stayed tangled like that for a long minute, both catching their breath, her cheek pressed against his sweat-damp chest. he kissed her hair lazily, one arm still locked tight around her waist like he couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go.

“you okay?” he murmured eventually, his voice soft now, familiar, the way it always was when the heat burned off and all that was left was this—him and her.

“more than okay,” she whispered, tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “you?”

“yeah.” he smiled into her hair, squeezing her gently. “better than okay. like… i won't be able to function tomorrow. or ever for that matter.”

she laughed quietly, lifting her head just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “glad i could help.”

“help?” he snorted, grinning now as he rolled them gently so she was on her back. “baby, you just ruined me.”

next

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106 @siennaluvshcky @macka

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[m34tthews]

justice ≠ equality. E.M. deserves so much better

the justice system has failed her but we will never forget.

fuck the judge, fuck the defense lawyers, fuck hockey canada, fuck carter hart, fuck michael mcleod, fuck dillon dube, fuck alex formenton, fuck cal foote and fuck ANYONE who defended these assholes

i hope the canadian justice system is happy because more case of sa are going to continue to pop up in hockey due to their negligence & ignorance

i’m so sorry e.m. you don’t deserve this

[m34tthews]

love the hughes’ family summer dumps

[m34tthews]

“man child — why you always come running to me?”

summary — sometimes it feels like jack would fall apart without you. from your constant nagging to your "excessive" organizing, you’re the one holding everything together. but one night, you reach your breaking point and finally take control, letting him know just how much you’ve been holding it all together.

word count — 9k

warnings — smut. minors dni. dom-sub. subby!jack

an — a short one-shot because i've had man child on repeat since it dropped.

masterlist

you didn't know jack hughes’ girlfriend meant you signed up to be a full-time project manager, therapist, and laundry fairy — but here you were, mid-april, deep in the throes of playoff season, perched in the wags' box at prudential center with the other girlfriends and wives. wrapped in a black-blue devils jacket two sizes too big (jack’s, obviously; it always was), she nursed a paper cup of tea that had long gone cold.

"if i have to explain to nico one more time where we keep the tupperware..." one of the girls groaned, laughter bubbling up like champagne on a short fuse.

"at least nico puts leftovers away," another shot back. "jesper acts like the fridge is a suggestion."

they all laughed — light and easy, the familiar rhythm of women who loved men that sometimes needed mothering.

y/n smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. she tucked her hands into her sleeves, eyes tracking jack as he skated warm-up laps, mouthguard dangling half out of his mouth like a kid who’d never been taught better. all energy and ambition and brilliance — but still somehow the same boy who left socks everywhere and thought “i’ll do it later” was enough to suffice.

"you okay?" luke’s girlfriend, nudged her gently.

"yeah," y/n said, watching jack high-five a teammate. "just tired."

and she was. tired in that bone-deep way that didn’t go away with a nap. tired of being the one who refilled the shampoo, who folded his laundry when he left it crumpled in the dryer, who texted the handyman and kept oat milk stocked in the fridge.

they’d moved in together a few months ago, and somewhere between unpacking boxes and colour-coding the closet, she’d realized jack didn’t so much help build their home as simply live in it — comfortably, expectantly, like it would always be warm and waiting.

he wasn’t cruel. never that. he kissed her forehead on his way to morning skate and brought her favorite smoothie back from practice. he meant well. he always meant well.

but meaning well didn’t scrub the bathroom or remember anniversaries or stop him from asking, “baby, where’s my gear?” when she was already juggling six other things.

later, after the game — a win, jack grinning under all that sweat and adrenaline like a kid who’d just been told christmas was coming twice — they went home. he kicked off his sneakers at the door, shedding clothes like breadcrumbs. she trailed behind, picking them up, almost without thinking.

"that goal in the third was amazing," she said.

he beamed. "you saw that?"

"of course i saw that. i’m always watching."

and maybe it was that — the simple, offhand admission — that made something shift inside her chest. because she was always watching. always anticipating. always fixing.

"hey, did you move my charger?" he called from the bedroom, voice muffled.

"no. i haven’t touched it."

"are you sure? because i—"

"jack." she stopped in the hallway, pulse a little too quick. "can you just... look for it yourself this time?"

silence. then a sheepish, "uh… yeah. sure. sorry."

she let out a slow breath. not angry. not exactly. but something close, simmering under her ribs.

he didn’t say anything else.

maybe it wasn’t about the charger. maybe it never was. maybe it was about the slow, constant drip of being needed in ways that didn’t feel equal. the way she’d become his second brain. or how he always said “thanks baby” but never once paused to ask if she was okay.

that night, she crawled into bed and faced the wall. jack slipped in behind her, warm and blissfully unaware, curling around her like always. his hand landed on her hip, gentle and familiar.

"i love you," he mumbled into her hair.

she hesitated. "i love you too."

but it sounded different tonight. like maybe she was finally realizing that holding someone together wasn’t the same as being held.

and maybe — just maybe — tomorrow, she’d stop picking up the socks.

the apartment was quieter than usual. the hum of the dishwasher was the only sound in the kitchen as y/n unloaded the dishes, the ceramic plates clinking softly against each other. she didn’t realize how much she noticed the little things until now — the way jack had left his gym bag in the middle of the hallway again, as if the floor were his personal closet. or how his boots had been sitting by the front door for three days, still caked in salt and snow, because someone (her) had to keep them clean so they wouldn’t ruin the hardwood.

she sighed and rubbed her temple, trying to push the frustration down.

jack had left early for a morning skate, and she hadn’t said much to him. she didn’t want to, because right now, everything about their routine felt like one big, unspoken transaction — like she was the one keeping the scorecard while he just... played the game.

as she moved through the apartment, it became almost comical how many little things there were to pick up. the coffee table was littered with receipts, a half-empty water bottle, and—yup, there it was—his practice jersey, still draped over the arm of the couch, hanging like it had been discarded without a second thought.

jack didn’t mean to do it. jack always meant well.

but she was tired of meaning well. tired of being the one who caught everything that slipped through the cracks.

later that evening, after a post-game dinner with the team and their families, they walked in together through the door of their apartment. jack was laughing about something one of the guys said, his easy smile lighting up the room. but when he stepped inside, his expression shifted just slightly. he saw the boots by the door and winced.

“oh, sorry,” he mumbled, bending down to pick them up. "didn't mean to leave those there."

y/n didn’t say anything right away. she just watched him as he slid them neatly against the wall.

“it’s fine,” she replied, a little too flatly. "just... next time, try to remember them, okay?"

jack’s gaze flickered to hers, something like uncertainty flashing across his face. but then, like he always did, he brushed it off with a grin.

“you got it, baby. promise."

the cycle continued as usual. the next day, they woke up to another busy morning. she was running late for work, and jack had overslept after a late practice. when she came out of the bathroom, getting ready to leave, she found him still lounging in bed, his phone in hand, scrolling through social media.

"you’re gonna miss your skate," she said, already halfway to the door.

"nah, i’ve got time,” jack muttered without looking up, his thumb scrolling idly. “you’re always the early one between us. you go ahead to work. i love you.”

she stared at him, feeling the familiar weight settle in her chest. it was a small thing, maybe, but it was one of the thousand things she picked up on every day. he wasn’t lazy—not by a long shot. but the way he assumed everything would just be ready for him. how he never really worried about being on time, about managing his own routine.

"jack," she said, her tone soft but firm, “you’ve gotta take responsibility for your schedule too. i can’t always be the one to tell you what time it is.”

he paused, looking up at her finally. there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes, but it quickly faded into the usual guilt.

"yeah, you're right. sorry, baby." he sighed, sitting up, his hand running through his messy hair. “i’ll get better at it.”

but it wasn’t better.

the following evening, y/n was back from a client meeting when she walked into the kitchen and found that once again, jack had forgotten to put away the leftovers. not only that — he'd left them out all afternoon. the plate was cold now, the food congealed in a sad, half-eaten pile.

she closed her eyes for a second, counting to five. she didn’t know why she was getting so worked up. but there it was again, that same feeling — the creeping weight of being the one who always had to fix things. had to manage them. had to make everything right.

just once, she wanted him to take the initiative. to clean up the mess before she had to remind him.

jack walked in from the living room then, eyes wide. “you okay?” he asked, his voice tentative, like he could sense the shift in the air.

“yeah. i’m fine,” she said, her voice just a little too sharp.

but then she couldn’t help herself. the words were out before she could stop them.

“jack, why do i always have to clean up after you?” she bit her lip, trying to rein in the frustration that was bubbling over. "why can’t you just—"

he stepped forward, his hands raised in surrender, but his tone was defensive. “baby, i’m not trying to be an ass, okay? i’m not. i’m just... i get caught up in everything, and then i forget. it’s not like i’m doing it on purpose.”

she crossed her arms, her heart pounding in her chest. “but it is on purpose, jack. not in the way you think. it’s the way you just leave things for me. over and over. it’s like i’m the one holding everything together while you are just... here.”

his face softened, guilt creeping into his expression as he realized the weight of what she was saying.

“i didn’t know you felt that way,” he murmured, his voice small. “i really didn’t.”

she shook her head, the exhaustion settling over her like a cloud. “that’s the problem. you never do. i’m the one picking up the pieces every time. i’m the one who has to make sure things get done, that everything’s taken care of.” she paused, then added, quieter, “it’s not fair, jack.”

he stood there for a long moment, speechless, as if trying to figure out how to process her words.

finally, he took a step toward her, and this time, he didn’t brush it off. didn’t throw an apology out like a quick fix. instead, he reached for her hand, holding it gently.

“i’m sorry,” he said, and his voice was steady, the sincerity there in every word. “i’ll do better. i’ll take more responsibility. i didn’t realize you were carrying so much.”

she nodded, though the tension in her chest hadn’t quite loosened. maybe this was the start of something. maybe he could really change. but she wasn’t sure yet.

but she needed to believe that he could.

the apartment was quiet again. jack had been gone for most of the day, as usual, but she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that things were... off. that conversation they had wasn’t just a one-off; it had been hanging in the air ever since, unresolved, lingering like smoke.

y/n sat at the kitchen table, staring at her phone, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. her mind kept drifting back to jack — how easy it had been to forgive him, even after everything. it was like a reflex now, to give him the benefit of the doubt. he didn’t mean to. he was just... jack.

and that’s what always got her. the way he grinned that stupid, perfect grin. the way his brown eyes sparkled when he was excited about something. or the way his voice dropped low when he murmured her name in that particular way that made her feel like she was the only thing in the world.

jack was beautiful, in every sense of the word. from the way his muscles flexed when he skated, to the way his curls always fell just a little too perfectly over his forehead. even when he left his sneakers in the middle of the floor or his dirty socks piled up on the couch, she could never stay mad at him for long.

it happened again the next morning.

jack was lounging in the living room, his legs stretched out in front of him, scrolling through his phone with an easy smile. when he looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, he gave her one of those grins — wide, disarming, playful.

"you still mad at me?" he asked, voice light, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his tone. his hands rested casually on the arm of the couch, as if he wasn’t really worried about her answer.

y/n crossed her arms, feeling the heat rise in her chest. she wanted to be annoyed, to remind him of all the things he still hadn’t done, all the ways he still wasn’t fully present.

but as she stood there, watching him — his broad shoulders, his chest stretching the fabric of his shirt, those eyes of his — she found herself faltering. god, why did he have to look so good? why did it feel like every time she was about to say something, he had a way of melting all of her frustration away?

"i’m not mad," she said, her voice softer than she meant. her arms fell to her sides, and she stepped closer to him, the pull of his presence too strong to resist.

jack’s eyes flickered with relief, his smile turning playful as he leaned back on the couch. “you sure? because you look a little mad.”

y/n sighed, fighting back a smile. “you’re impossible,” she muttered, but her words held no heat.

“nah, i’m just... charming,” he said, winking as he patted the seat beside him. “come sit.”

she rolled her eyes, but it was half-hearted. as she sat down next to him, he stretched an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. his scent — woodsy and fresh — wrapped around her lap a blanket, and before she knew it, she was leaning into him, her frustration fading into the background once again.

and that’s when it happened. that moment. the way he tilted her chin up gently, eyes soft with an apology that never quite made it past his playful grin.

he kissed her. slowly at first, his lips pressing against hers with a tenderness that always had a way of disarming her. when he deepened the kiss, his hand slid to the back of her neck, tugging her closer.

everything inside of her screamed that this wasn’t fair — that they were avoiding the real conversation — but in the heat of his kiss, all her thoughts scattered like autumn leaves.

later that night, jack pulled her into their bedroom. she had been giving him the cold shoulder, since dinner, when he didn’t even flinch to clean up after. she continued to refuse to break her silence, but the moment he stepped into the room, something shifted.

“y/n…” he said, his voice soft but sure, his eyes studying her face with that familiar, unspoken apology.

before she could respond, he was already closing the distance between them, his hand cupping her cheek. his touch was warm, gentle, and when his lips met hers again, this time it wasn’t playful — it was raw, sincere. he was saying everything without words, and she could feel it in the way his hands roamed over her body, tracing the familiar paths he knew so well.

it wasn’t just about the sex. it never had been. it was the way he knew exactly what she needed without asking. the way he took control, even when he was the one who had messed up, in a way that made her forget her frustration and let herself be swept up in him.

his kisses moved to her neck, soft and languid, as he slowly undressed her, his movements almost reverent, like she was something precious.

y/n closed her eyes, feeling the pull between them, the way his touch made her heart race and her thoughts blur. it was hard to stay mad at him when he made her feel like the center of his universe.

his hands slid over her skin, and she melted into him, all the tension and frustration of the past few days evaporating as he whispered against her skin. "i’m sorry... i’ll do better, i promise."

there it was. the promises again. but she was too caught up in his orbit to reprimand him.

she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. his touch always made everything else fade away. and she hated herself a little for it, because she knew — he knew — that this was how he could win her back every time.

but tonight, as their bodies moved together, she realized something. he was sorry, in his own way. but was he ready to change? or was he just apologizing because he knew what she needed to hear to make the anger disappear?

the next morning, she woke up alone. jack had already gone to practice, but there was a note on the pillow next to her, written in his familiar scrawl: "i’ll make it up to you, baby."

she stared at it for a moment, wondering how long the cycle would continue. how many more mornings would she wake up to apologies and tender touches before the reality of it all — the real work — would start?

the charm and the kisses were enough to make her forget, for a while. but for how long?

y/n felt like she was dragging herself through the days. it started with a sore throat, then escalated quickly into a full-blown cold — the kind that made her body ache and her head feel like it was trapped in a fog. jack had been on the road for a couple of days, and she wasn’t about to bother him with her stupid little cold. he was busy with the team, doing his thing, living his dream. no need to pile her issues onto him.

but it was harder than she expected.

she spent the last couple of days in bed, barely able to get up. the apartment was silent except for the occasional sound of cars passing by outside. no one was there to bring her soup, no one to fluff her pillows or check on her when she got up to grab a glass of water. she was used to taking care of herself, but this time, it felt different. more exhausting.

by the time jack finally returned, she was still lying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, tissues scattered on the coffee table in front of her. she barely had the energy to move when he walked in through the door, dropping his bag carelessly by the front door, his usual loud “i’m home!” echoing through the empty apartment.

y/n barely lifted her head from the pillow, feeling the wave of frustration already start to creep up her chest.

jack walked into the living room, his eyes scanning the space. he cocked his head. “you okay?”

"yeah,” she muttered, though her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. “i’ve come down with something.”

he stared at her for a moment, then looked around the apartment, his gaze flicking from the scattered tissues to the still-dirty dishes from last night. he made a face.

“you’ve been in bed all day?” he asked, his voice carrying a slight judgment she hadn’t expected. “the place looks like a mess.”

y/n blinked, confused for a moment. was he serious?

“i’m sick, jack,” she said, sitting up a little, her throat burning from the effort. she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “i haven’t been able to get out of bed for two days.”

jack didn’t seem to get it. he shrugged a little and gestured to the disarray around the apartment. “yeah, but you could’ve at least picked up a little. i mean... it’s not like you didn’t have time.”

her chest tightened. she could feel the frustration rising, the sharp edge of everything she’d been holding in for the past few days coming to a head.

“are you serious right now?” her voice was louder than she meant it to be, and the sound of it seemed to shock even her. jack froze in place, but she didn’t back down. “you’ve been gone for days, and i’m here sick as hell, and all you can do is complain about the house being a mess?”

he opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.

“you don’t get it, jack. i have to do everything. i’m the one keeping the apartment clean, making sure your stuff’s put away, taking care of you — and when you’re gone, i’m left to handle it all on my own. and when you come home, all you can do is complain about the things that don’t matter." she took a shaky breath, the tears welling up despite herself.

jack stood there, staring at her, caught off guard by her outburst. his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to process what she was saying.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice softening. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think... I didn’t know you were feeling like this.”

“you never know,” she whispered, leaning back against the couch, exhausted from both the fever and the fight. “that’s the problem.” she wiped at her eyes, trying to get a hold of herself.

jack’s face softened immediately, his usual easy confidence slipping away. he took a tentative step closer to her, his voice filled with genuine concern now.

“y/n, i’m sorry. i really am,” he said, his tone different — quieter, more vulnerable. “i didn’t know you were sick all week. i wish you told me. i don’t want to be that guy who... makes everything harder for you.”

she could feel the familiar ache in her chest when he looked at her like that — his eyes wide, apologetic, like a puppy who knew it messed up. the charm was undeniable. and it always seemed to work on her.

“it’s not just about the house, jack. it’s about... everything. it’s about how i’m always the one holding it together while you... while you just get to go play hockey and leave me to manage everything else.” her voice cracked, and she hated how vulnerable she sounded, but it was the truth

he crouched down in front of her, looking up at her with those wide eyes, his hand gently cupping her knee. “you’re right,” he said quietly. “i’ve been selfish. i’ve been so caught up in my own stuff that i didn’t how i’m burdening you”

y/n felt a small, bitter laugh escape her. “you only see it when i yell at you and you pout like a kicked puppy,” she murmured, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice so earnest now that she couldn’t stay mad at him. not really. “i’ll do better, i promise. just... please don’t stay mad at me.” he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

y/n stared at him for a long moment. the words were familiar. he’d apologized a million times, said the same things over and over. but this time felt different.

she sighed, letting the frustration melt away, if only for a moment. “you always say that,” she whispered, shaking her head. “but you never change.”

“i will change,” he said, his voice low, sincere. “just give me a chance.”

she stared at him for a beat, wondering if this time was actually the time he would do better. but even as the doubt lingered, she could feel the tension in her shoulders ease.

she couldn’t help it. she wanted to believe him. she always did.

“fine,” she said softly. “but next time, just... help out, jack. help out before i have to ask.”

he nodded, pulling her into his arms gently. “i will. i swear.”

the warmth of his body against hers as he pulled her close was like a balm to the tension she’d been carrying. he kissed the top of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he cradled her against him.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there when you needed me,” he murmured, voice thick with guilt. “i hate that you were sick and i wasn’t here to take care of you.”

y/n closed her eyes, the comfort of him too soothing to fight. maybe he would change. maybe this time, it would stick.

for now, though, she just let herself be held.

two nights later, they were all squeezed into a corner booth at a warm, bustling italian spot downtown. the kind with paper tablecloths, tiny candles, and waiters who greeted the hughes family like old friends. jack’s parents were in town for the playoffs, treating them all to dinner — luke already halfway through the breadbasket, jack grinning like he he had something up his sleeve.

ellen was fussing over the menu. “i still don’t understand why you won’t try the eggplant, jack. it’s good for you!”

“mom,” jack groaned, leaning back so dramatically he nearly knocked into the waiter. “if i’m not eating it now, i’m never eating it.”

“it’s actually good here,” y/n offered, just to tease, elbowing him lightly.

he gave her a betrayed look. “whose side are you on?”

“the side of expanding your child-like palate, apparently.”

luke snorted. “she’s right, bro.”

jack rolled his eyes, but under the table, his hand slipped onto her thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles.

they ordered — pasta for everyone, plus calamari and garlic bread “for the table,” which meant luke would demolish most of it. they were halfway through the appetizer when jack suddenly cleared his throat, announcing he has something to say (as always)

“so… i was thinking,” he started, glancing around like he was about to announce a business deal. “we should get a dog.”

y/n almost choked on her wine. “a what?”

“a dog!” he said, perking up. “like a little golden retriever or a lab. wouldn’t that be awesome?”

ellen lit up immediately. “oh, that would be so sweet! i’d come visit all the time.”

jack leaned back, smirking at y/n like he’d already won. “see? mom loves the idea.”

she fixed him with a look. “ellen, please tell your son he needs to learn how to put his socks in the hamper before he’s responsible for a living creature.”

ellen burst out laughing. “he still doesn’t pick up after himself?”

“ellen,” y/n said gravely, lowering her voice like she was sharing state secrets, “your son left a protein shake on the windowsill for two weeks. i walked in and thought something died.”

luke nearly spit out his water, coughing as he laughed. jim was shaking his head, trying to hide a grin behind his napkin.

jack’s ears went bright pink. “okay, one time—”

“one time too many,” she cut in, smirking. “besides, who’s going to walk it? or train it? i already do all the grocery shopping, call the maintenance man, keep track of your game schedule and your laundry.”

“hey!” jack sputtered. “i help.”

“like when you said you’d clean the bathroom and just sprayed windex everywhere because it ‘smelled clean’?”

“now that. that was innovative.”

luke wiped tears from his eyes. “you’re hopeless.”

ellen patted y/n’s hand, eyes sparkling. “thank you for keeping him in line. i tried for twenty three years, but some things never stick.”

jack scowled. “you’re all traitors.”

but even as he pouted, he squeezed y/n’s knee under the table, thumb pressing gently like he needed the reassurance. she rolled her eyes but laced her fingers with his, giving him a squeeze back.

“maybe in a year,” she relented softly, meeting his hopeful eyes. “when you prove you can keep track of your socks.”

he lit up instantly. “deal. i’m gonna get so good at chores you won’t even believe it.”

jim snorted. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

ellen raised her glass. “to jack learning how to be functional adult”

everyone laughed, even jack, who lifted his own glass with a sigh. “yeah, yeah. ye of little faith .”

under the table, he leaned closer, whispering just for her, “thank you, baby. for everything”

she smiled, nudging his shoulder. “someone’s gotta make sure you survive. might as well be me.”

and he just looked at her, eyes soft, like even if he didn’t have the dog yet, he already had everything else he needed.

by the time they got home, the city was quiet and cool, the kind of april night that smelled like rain on pavement. jack unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and waited for her to step inside first — dramatic gentleman mode, as always.

“after you, traitor.”

y/n snorted, kicking off her shoes and heading straight for the kitchen to put away the leftover dessert ellen had forced them to take home. “still mad i told your mom about the protein shake?”

he shut the door and followed behind her like a shadow. “oh, i’m furious,” he said, dropping his keys on the counter. “you snitched. in front of my whole family.”

“well, quinn wasn't there and i've already told on you enough to him. and you brought up a dog. you knew exactly what you were doing.” she opened the fridge, placing the tiramisu inside. “and i told the truth. if you want a dog, start by not treating your sneakers like floor art.”

he wrapped his arms around her from behind, chest pressed to her back. “i’m still getting revenge,” he murmured, lips brushing just behind her ear.

she raised an eyebrow, amused. “oh yeah? what’re you gonna do? forget to rinse your dishes again?”

he smirked against her neck. “nah. i’m gonna make you pay for telling my mom i can’t clean.”

“jack—”

“maybe i’ll tease you until you’re the one begging,” he whispered, voice low and smug. “maybe i’ll make you say you’re sorry for making me look bad at dinner.”

she rolled her eyes, but her breath hitched — because of course it did. he always knew what buttons to push.

“you do a fine job of looking bad all on your own,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

he grinned. “true. but that's why i have you. we balance eachother out.”

“unfortunately.” she turned in his arms, tugging his hoodie by the collar. “you’re lucky i do.”

he tilted his head, lips hovering just over hers. “lucky you love me,” he corrected. “because otherwise, you’d be in big trouble for slander.”

she laughed against his mouth. “baby, if i really wanted to slander you, i’d tell them about the time you almost blew up our microwave because you microwaved aluminum in a plastic container.”

“that was one time!” he groaned, head dropping to her shoulder in embarrassment.

he groaned into her neck, “you’re here to humble me, aren’t you?,” his hands were already sliding under the hem of her shirt, thumbs brushing warm circles into her skin.

“mhm, says the boy plotting revenge.”

“not plotting anymore,” he murmured, voice husky. “your punishment is pretty much decided.”

“oh yeah?” she smirked, trying to hold her ground, but it faltered when he pressed her back against the counter, hips snug against hers. “what’re you gonna do—”

he cut her off with a kiss. greedy, all-consuming, the kind that made her knees weaken. she clutched at his shoulders, trying to remember why she was annoyed at all — the socks, the tupperware, the protein shake science experiment — but it all blurred under the heat of his mouth.

“come on,” he whispered against her lips. “come to bed with me.”

“jack—”

“please.” his forehead rested against hers, eyes blown wide, almost boyish again. “need you.”

that did her in.

he tugged her hand, leading her down the hall, their laughter tangled with breathless kisses. by the time they reached the bedroom, she was already fumbling with the hem of his hoodie, giggling when he yanked it over his head and nearly knocked her off balance.

“careful, idiot,” she whispered.

he just grinned, hands settling on her hips as he backed her toward the bed. “not my fault you make me clumsy.”

the playful edge faded the second she hit the mattress, his mouth trailing down her neck, hands everywhere at once — anchoring her, adoring her, worshiping her.

and just like that, all her quiet resentments melted. every sock on the floor, every forgotten chore — gone, irrelevant, lost under the press of his chest and the way he groaned her name like a prayer.

because in moments like these, she wasn’t the girl picking up his pieces. she was just his. wanted, cherished, needed so deeply it made her head spin.

later, tangled in sheets with his heartbeat thrumming under her palm, she whispered, almost shy, “still mad at me?”

jack smiled into his skin. “not even a little.”

because she’d remember all his shortcomings tomorrow. but tonight, in this bed, with him breathing her in like he couldn’t get enough — she only felt the good parts. and god, there were so many good parts.

it was early afternoon when she finished getting ready — slipping into a soft, silky dress for a charity fundraiser with the other wives and girlfriends. nothing over-the-top, but the colour made her skin glow, the neckline dipping just enough that she almost second-guessed it.

jack didn’t give her the chance.

“jesus,” he muttered when he walked into the bedroom, stopping dead in his tracks. his eyes raked over her like he was physically hungry. “baby, come here let me look at you.”

she rolled her eyes, heat prickling at the base of her neck. “jack, i’m already running late—”

he crowded her against the dresser anyway, hands sliding over her waist, thumbs stroking the fabric like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold her or peel it off. “you can’t just walk around looking like that. it’s illegal.”

“it’s literally a charity event,” she laughed, trying to twist away, but he only grinned and ducked his head, lips ghosting her throat.

“then it’s illegal to be that hot at a charity event without me”

she melted — for a second. then gently pushed at his chest. “jack, stop. i have to go.”

he pouted but didn’t let go, arms wrapping tighter. “fine, fine. where’s it at again?”

“the rooftop at the four seasons. you’d know if you checked your calendar.”

he just hummed, nosing along her collarbone.

she let out a little breath, trying not to lose focus. “what’re you doing today?”

“nothing, really. might play chel with luke and trevor later. why?”

her stomach tensed. she smoothed her hands over his shoulders, voice careful. “i just… remembered we’re behind on a few things. could you maybe run to the store? we’re out of oat milk and trash bags. and sunday cleaning — could you at least get started on the bathroom and vacuum the living room?”

jack pulled back just enough to grin down at her. “of course, baby. got it. don’t even worry. i’ll be so productive, you’ll come home and think a maid service broke in.”

she studied him, searching for something — maybe real commitment, or even a flicker of guilt that she had to ask at all. instead, he was just smiling at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, hands still tracing little shapes on her hips.

she sighed. “i’m serious, jack. i don’t want to come back and have to do it all myself.”

“i know, i know.” he leaned in and kissed her, slow and sweet, like it was enough to solve everything. “trust me, okay? i got it. promise.”

she tried to relax into it, let herself believe him. because he looked so earnest, and god, it was so easy to fall for that soft-eyed smile.

but as she grabbed her purse and left, her chest was tight with something she couldn’t quite name — like maybe she already knew how this would end.

the rooftop was lit up with tiny golden bulbs strung overhead, the city skyline soft and blurred in the distance. waiters wove through with trays of prosecco and delicate hors d'oeuvres, and laughter floated on the warm evening breeze.

y/n stood with a cluster of the other wives and girlfriends, her glass cool in her hand, shoulders finally relaxing a little. it felt good to be out, dressed up, surrounded by people who understood the strange orbit their lives revolved around.

"so how’s jack? still leaving a trail of clothes from the door to the bedroom like bread crumbs?" megan asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

y/n laughed, shaking her head. "honestly? he’s been… pretty good, actually. like, surprisingly. i think i scared him straight after i snitched to ellen at dinner last week."

they all cracked up, nearly in unison.

"my mother-in-law would never side with me," jenna groaned. "if she could, she’d still be cutting the crusts off his sandwiches and ironing his jeans. she looks at me like i’m a war criminal because i told him to pick up after himself."

"god, jack would love that," y/n said, giggling. she took a slow sip of her drink, letting the prosecco fizz sweetly on her tongue.

“although — he’s still working his angles. i have this theory he’s trying to butter me up for a dog. keeps dropping these not-so-subtle hints, like ‘baby, wouldn’t a puppy be so cute on the couch with us?’ meanwhile, i’d just like to not trip over his skates in the hallway.”

"that’s a lot of work," one of the girls said, sympathetic but amused. "but… also kinda nice. i’d go crazy in that house by myself all season if we didn’t have our dog. at least it’s company when they’re on the road."

y/n hummed, nodding. her mind wandered for a moment — to their apartment, to jack’s sneakers by the door, to the way he’d looked at her before she left, so unabashedly in awe like he still couldn’t believe she was his.

"yeah," she admitted softly, half to herself. "he is pretty sweet sometimes. and i think… i don’t know. maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have something that’s ours, you know?"

the girls all smiled knowingly, a few squeezing her hand. the conversation moved on — trips they were planning, little updates on family back home, which players were secretly terrible cooks — but under it all was this soft, blooming warmth in her chest.

by the time she hugged them all goodbye and stepped into her waiting car, she felt light. maybe even a little giddy. she rested her head against the seat, smiling to herself, suddenly eager to be home.

to see jack, to tell him he’d been on her mind, to let him tug her into his chest and kiss her like she was still that girl from the first night they met.

because for all the socks on the floor and the ways he still had to grow up — he was hers. and tonight, that was enough to make her want to hurry back to him.

once the event wrapped up and she parked in their building garage, she couldn’t wait any longer to see him. she unlocked the door, expecting the usual quiet hum of an apartment halfway cleaned, maybe the faint scent of something cooking, the soft buzz of the vacuum in the living room.

instead, she stepped inside and froze. the place was exactly the way she’d left it. the kitchen counters still cluttered with empty milk cartons, the trash overflowing, the bathroom untouched.

then she heard it — the low murmur of voices from the living room.

peeking around the corner, she saw jack and luke sprawled on the couch, beer cans in hand, laughing like it was game night; the chores she had assigned long forgotten.

jack’s eyes caught hers and immediately went wide — frozen, caught like a kid who just got caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

she opened her mouth, but no words came out. the anger rooted her to the spot, leaving her utterly speechless.

luke cleared his throat awkwardly. “uh… hey, y/n.”

jack didn’t move, didn’t say a word. he was in trouble.

“guess the cleaning’s on hold?” she finally managed, voice tight but low.

jack swallowed hard. “i… i was gonna get to it. i swear. just… needed a minute.”

her jaw clenched. “a minute?"

he shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking to luke, who gave an apologetic shrug.

“i gotta head out,” luke said quickly, standing and grabbing his coat. “don’t wanna get caught in the middle.”

“thanks, luke,” she said flatly as he hurried out.

jack stayed rooted, looking smaller than usual, but she still couldn’t find her voice.

he finally gestured helplessly toward the game console, where a controller rested. “was gonna play some chel… thought maybe after.”

she stalked over, unplugged the console, and looked at him dead on. “shut up.”

jack blinked. “shut up?”

“yes. just. shut. up.”

he did, really did, blinking in surprise. he’d never seen her like this before — silent, rigid, no warmth in her eyes. he slumped into the couch infront of her as she paced.

he stayed there on the couch, looking up at her like he didn’t know if he should stand or shrink into the cushions.

she crossed her arms, pacing once before she rounded on him again. her voice was ice. “so pathetic. you need me to do everything for you, hmm?”

his eyes widened, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “baby, i—”

“can’t do anything for yourself,” she snapped, stepping in closer. her hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back into the couch so she stood over him. “can’t clean. can’t run errands. can’t keep a single promise to me. i have to manage your whole life for you, like i’m your personal assistant.”

he reached for her hips, trying to pull her down onto his lap, but she smacked his hands away so hard the sound cracked in the air.

“you don’t get to touch me,” she hissed.

his mouth fell open. “baby, come on—”

“no. i’m the one in charge. like always. i decide if and when you get to touch me.” she snapped, her voice laced with venom

he swallowed again, hands fisting helplessly at his sides.

she leaned down, voice dropping to a mocking purr as her fingers traced along his jaw, her nails scraping lightly over the stubble.

“stupid boy. can’t do anything. don’t want to do anything but be inside me all day, huh? can’t get a single thought in that pretty head of yours if it isn’t me.”

his breath stuttered out of him in a low, wrecked groan. his eyes fluttered shut for a second, like he couldn’t even bear how much he wanted it. when they opened again, they were dark and blown wide with need, locked helplessly on her face.

“baby…” he breathed, voice hoarse, the word more a plea than anything else. his hands twitched on the couch cushions, like he didn’t dare reach for her again without permission.

she tilted her head, studying him, a cruel little smirk ghosting across her lips. her thumb swept over his bottom lip, dragging slow and deliberate, watching it bounce back when she let go. he sucked in a sharp breath at even that light touch, chest rising like he was struggling to keep himself from falling apart.

“so easy,” she whispered, her mouth brushing just against the corner of his. “you’d let me ruin you right here, wouldn’t you?”

he gave a tiny, desperate nod, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “yeah. fuck — please. whatever you want. i’ll do anything.”

“anything?” she echoed softly, letting her lips ghost along his cheek, down to his jaw, smiling when he shivered under her.

“anything,” he rasped, hands fisting tight again at his sides like he was using every ounce of control not to grab her. “just… please.”

she hovered over his mouth for a breathless beat, letting the anticipation stretch until his lips parted on a quiet, broken gasp.

then she finally kissed him.

hard. messy. her hands threading into his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan. he kissed her back with a desperate, hungry sort of relief, grabbing her waist like he couldn’t help himself even after being told not to.

and she let him — for now — because the way he melted under her, the way he clung to her like he’d fall apart otherwise, made it so painfully clear just how much he needed her to keep him together.

and god help her, she needed it too.

she pulled back just enough to look at him, breath coming fast, her lips swollen from the kiss. jack’s eyes were blown wide, pupils dark with want, mouth parted like he couldn’t quite catch his breath.

his hands hovered at her waist again, tentative now — like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. she could feel him trembling under her, every muscle wound tight, waiting for permission.

“say it,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding. “say you need me.”

“i… fuck, i need you,” he breathed, so earnest it nearly broke her. “need you to tell me what to do. need you to… to take care of me. i’m so fucking lost without you.”

her thumb brushed over his cheek, almost gentle — almost. “yeah, i know. you’d fall apart if i left. don’t even know how to use the vacuum without me.”

he let out a shaky laugh, eyes fluttering closed like he was embarrassed, but he leaned into her touch anyway.

“look at me,” she ordered.

his eyes snapped open at her words. he melted at the heat radiating from her a mix of desire and anger that reached it's boiling point

“good boy,” she murmured, and then she kissed him again — slower this time, deep and possessive, like she was staking her claim. his hands finally settled on her hips again, squeezing like he might die if he couldn’t hold her.

she shifted in his lap, feeling how hard he already was beneath her, and smirked against his mouth. “so easy. so fucking easy for me.”

“only for you,” he groaned, voice raw, forehead dropping to rest against hers. “just… please. don’t stop. don’t—”

“shut up,” she repeated, cutting him off with another searing kiss.

and he did. god, he did — sinking into her, letting her take the lead, every broken promise and messy room forgotten for now under the weight of how desperately he wanted to be hers.

she slowed the kiss, just enough to savor it — to taste the apology he couldn’t quite say, to feel the way he shivered when she dragged her nails lightly up the back of his neck.

his hands were gripping her hips so tight it bordered on painful, trying to ground himself, to prove he still had something to hold onto. but she knew — they both knew — who was really in control here.

when she pulled back, her breath was ragged, her lips slick and swollen. jack’s eyes were dazed, his mouth parted like he was still chasing her even after she’d left it.

“god, look at you,” she whispered, brushing a thumb over his damp bottom lip. “i am the only one who gets to see you like this. completely ruined”

he let out a low, desperate sound. “yeah. fuck — yes. whatever you want. just… please, don’t stop touching me.”

“needy,” she murmured, almost fond, though there was still an edge in it. “pathetic little thing. can’t stand to be without me for a second.”

his hips jerked up under her, unthinking, chasing friction, and he whined when she pressed her palm to his chest to hold him still.

“stay,” she ordered, and he did — trembling under her like he was made of glass.

she leaned down, nipping his jaw, then licking over the sting until he gasped. “good boy. that’s it.”

his hands fluttered at her sides, wanting to roam, wanting to take, but waiting for her to give the word. it sent a sharp thrill through her, how he looked at her like this — totally undone, worshipful, lost.

she rolled her hips slowly against him, and his breath punched out of him in a shudder.

“you feel that?” she whispered against his ear. “that’s all you’re good for. all you want to be good for. just me. just this.”

“fuck,” he rasped, hands clutching at her thighs now like he might fall through the earth if he didn’t anchor himself to her. “yes baby, fuck yes… only you.”

she kissed him again, hard and filthy, swallowing the broken sounds he made. he kissed back with everything he had — teeth, tongue, the desperate flick of his hips — like he needed to prove his devotion in every breath.

when she finally broke away, they were both gasping, foreheads pressed together, sweat starting to bead at her temple.

“you’re mine,” she said low, so close he could feel her words vibrate through him.

“yours,” he promised instantly, eyes blown wide, voice shaking. “always yours.”

she smiled, dark and satisfied, before capturing his mouth again — and this time when he surged up into her, she let him, let them both get lost in it. because right now, in the heat of it, with all his faults and failures laid bare, he was exactly where he was supposed to be — beneath her, wanting nothing more than to give her everything.

she smiled, dark and satisfied, before capturing his mouth again — and this time when he surged up into her, she let him, let him grab at her hips and pull her flush against him like he was starving for it.

his hands roamed greedily now, no longer tentative, sliding up beneath her shirt to feel the heat of her skin. he moaned into her mouth when her nails scraped over his shoulders, bucking up helplessly beneath her.

“fuck, baby… please,” he gasped when they pulled apart for breath, his voice nothing but wrecked devotion.

“please what?” she taunted softly, pressing her forehead to his, their breaths tangling.

“please… just — let me come. let me be good for you,” he choked out. his eyes were wide and glassy, every ounce of cockiness stripped down to this raw, pleading honesty.

she felt her chest tighten, her own pulse thundering as she rocked her hips deliberately against him. he nearly sobbed, clutching her tighter, and when she kissed him again it was slower, deeper, like she was drinking in every shattered sound he made.

somewhere in the blur of it — of soft, filthy words whispered against lips, of his hands gripping her like lifelines, of her laughter breaking through when he cursed under his breath, half-crazed — the last of her anger slipped away.

because here he was, laid bare under her, all his faults and failures on full display, and still looking at her like she was the sun. like he’d do anything, be anything, if it meant keeping her.

and right now, in the heat of it, that was enough.

when the tension finally broke and they collapsed together, tangled and breathless on the couch. when the urgency had finally burned itself out and left them in a tangled, sweaty heap on the couch — she lay draped over him, her cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the frantic pound of his heart start to slow.

jack’s hands stroked aimlessly up and down her back, almost reverent, like he still couldn’t believe she was real, that she’d chosen to stay.

for a while, neither of them spoke. they just lay there tangled up on the couch, her head resting over his heart, feeling it race and then slowly steady beneath her cheek. his hands drifted over her back in slow, aimless patterns, like he couldn’t stand to stop touching her.

she closed her eyes, trying to memorize this — the warmth of him, the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his breath still caught every so often like he was overwhelmed.

then, in a voice so quiet and rough it cracked straight through her, he whispered, “i’d do anything for you. you know that, right?”

her throat tightened. she lifted her head to look at him, taking in the flushed skin, damp hair curling at his temples, the way his lips were kiss-swollen and parted like he was still catching up to the moment.

his eyes found hers, wide and raw in the low light. “i mean it,” he went on, like he couldn’t keep it inside anymore. “i’ll do better. i promise. i’ll try harder. i’ll… fuck, i’ll grow up. i’ll be the man you need. the one you deserve. because i can’t — i can’t lose you.”

her chest squeezed so tight it almost hurt. because for all his mess, all the ways he made her want to scream and tear her hair out, there was never any doubt how deeply he loved her. it was written all over his face, in every touch, every broken, breathless promise. he loved her recklessly, wholly, with everything he was.

she leaned down and kissed him, slow and lingering, tasting the fear and the hope on his lips.

when she pulled back just enough to speak, her voice shook. “good. because i’m not doing this alone anymore. i swear to god, jack — if you don’t change, if you keep making me carry all of it by myself, i’ll leave.”

his hands came up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing tears she hadn’t even realized had fallen. “it won’t come to that,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “i swear. i swear on everything, i’ll be better. i’ll prove it to you. just… please don’t stop loving me.”

she closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to his, breathing him in like she was trying to fill her lungs with him.

“don’t give me a reason to,” she whispered back.

“i won’t,” he breathed immediately, pulling her down into him like he could keep her there forever. “i promise, baby. i promise.”

and for tonight — with his arms locked around her, his promises soft and desperate against her skin — she let herself believe it. because god, she needed to. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep holding on.

BONUS

the morning light spilled gently through the window when y/n finally stirred, her body still heavy with sleep and the lingering warmth of the night before. she blinked groggily, expecting to find herself alone or maybe jack still tangled up in blankets somewhere on the couch.

instead, she heard the clatter of pans and the faint hiss of the coffee machine.

curious, she shuffled out of their bedroom in her oversized shirt and slippers, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

there he was — jack, standing at the stove, focused and a little awkward, flipping pancakes with the kind of careful concentration usually reserved for practice drills. the kitchen was filled with the rich smell of coffee and something sweet sizzling on the griddle.

“morning,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with that boyish grin that made her heart skip. “hope you’re hungry.”

y/n’s eyes widened when he handed her a plate piled high with golden pancakes, perfectly fluffy, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup. next to it was a steaming mug of coffee, just how she liked it — creamy, not too bitter.

“jack… this looks amazing,” she said, genuinely surprised. “did you make all this?”

he scratched the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “yeah, well… i had some help.”

“help?”

he grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “was on facetime with my mom and quinn until about thirty minutes ago. they gave me the play-by-play on how to not burn the kitchen down.”

she laughed, warmth spreading through her chest. “so you were taking cooking lessons from your mom?”

“yep,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “and maybe bragging a little about how amazing my girlfriend is.”

she smiled, taking a bite of the pancake. “okay, i’m impressed. you’re full of surprises.”

he smirked, his eyes darkening with a mix of mischief and something softer, more tender. “guess all it took was you fucking me like that yesterday to light a fire under me.”

he stepped closer, voice dropping low and thick with promise. “plus, if i want mornings like this—just you and me, no distractions—I’d better start pulling my weight.”

she smiled, feeling a rush of heat bloom inside her as she reached across the table to lace her fingers through his. “well, keep it up. i’m loving this side of you.”

he caught her hand, his thumb stroking gently, grounding them both. then, without breaking eye contact, he tugged her up from her chair and pulled her close until there was no space left between them.

“i love you,” he murmured against her lips, voice raw and full of longing.

she melted into the kiss, slow and deep, the kitchen fading away until there was only the press of his body, the warmth of his breath, the taste of him.

when they finally parted, breathless and tangled, jack pressed a soft kiss to her temple before stepping back with a grin.

“breakfast is served, baby. just for you.” he said, sliding the plate of pancakes onto the table, the steam curling between them like a promise of more mornings like this.

and in that simple, perfect moment—pancakes, coffee, and stolen kisses—everything felt like home.

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[m34tthews]

SHE DID HER BIG ONE

CHAPTER SEVEN

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 9.5k

warnings — minors dni. sexual content

an — late night update

masterlist

auston groaned through the final set of shoulder presses, sweat sliding down the back of his neck as ryan, his team-appointed personal trainer, counted him down in that same unfazed, nonchalant tone he’d heard for years.

“three more. come on. don’t wimp out on me now, matthews.”

“i’m not,” auston huffed, pushing through the burn. “you sound like lou.” their head strength and conditioning coach.

ryan chuckled, arms crossed as he watched auston’s form. “he was pissed, you know. ghosting your offseason program? rookie mistake.”

“i didn’t ghost,” auston muttered, voice strained. “i just… paused.”

ryan shot him a look. “for how long?”

“a couple weeks.”

“and what were you doing for those couple weeks?”

auston grinned despite the ache in his arms, a dumb smile tugging at his lips even mid-set. “seeing someone.”

ryan raised a brow. “oh?”

“yeah.” auston dropped the weights with a quiet thud and sat back on the bench, chest rising and falling with effort. “her name’s y/n. we grew up together. ran into her again when i came back here. haven’t really stopped talking since.”

“huh.” ryan tossed him a towel. “and she’s the reason you skipped workouts?”

“no,” auston said quickly, then hesitated. “okay, maybe a little.”

ryan laughed. “she must be something.”

auston nodded as he wiped the sweat from his face. “she is.”

once they wrapped up and ryan moved on to another client, auston lingered in the locker room of the private training facility, cooling down. he scrolled through his phone, fingers tapping through old texts — most of them from y/n — until her name lit up the screen with a new one.

baby ❤️: i need you when you’re done

his brows pulled together. no emojis. no extra words. just those five. he didn’t waste time replying. instead, he immediately hit call, switching to speaker as he peeled off his damp shirt and reached for a fresh one in his bag.

“hey,” he said, stepping into the shower area while the water ran behind him, steam starting to fill the space. “you good?”

“yeah, all good,” she said quickly, her voice light but a little breathless, like she’d rushed to pick up. “so… i need to ask you something.”

he laughed under his breath, setting his phone on the dry ledge of the sink. “do you have any idea how that text sounded?”

“what?” she asked, a smile in her tone.

“you text me ‘i need you’ like you’re in trouble, and then answer the phone all casual. you trying to give me a heart attack?”

she giggled. “okay, fair. sorry. i didn’t mean for it to sound that dramatic. i was tending to a patient and texted you in a rush.”

he stepped under the water, angling himself so he could still hear her. “so what’s up? what do you need?”

“do you… have a suit?”

he paused mid-shampoo, blinking water from his eyes. “yeah, course i do. i’m not a caveman. why?”

“well,” she said, and he could hear the shyness creeping in, “i kind of forgot tonight is the alumni ball at ASU. it’s this formal thing they do every year for alumni, recent grads, and professors… but this one’s specifically for stem graduates. they invited me because i’m receiving an award for community outreach and mentorship.”

he blinked, a slow grin pulling at his face. “and you need a date.”

“i do,” she said with a soft laugh. “i know it’s last minute and you’ve been so busy lately and i’ve already stolen so much of your time—”

“hey,” he cut in, rinsing off, “you didn’t steal anything. i wanted every second with you. and second—of course i’ll go.”

“really?”

“yes.” he stepped out, grabbing a towel. “i’ll be your date. though, you’ve got some nerve.”

he continued, toweling off. “taking me to a fancy dinner as your date. you trying to impress me, y/n?”

she giggled again, warm and fond. “technically it’s not dinner. it’s a ball.”

“even worse. now i gotta wear a tie.”

“you look good in a tie.”

“you look good in everything.”

she hummed, pleased. “you’re sure you’re up for it?”

“y/n,” he said, more serious now, pulling on fresh clothes, “any excuse to be near you tonight? i’m in. i'll have you know i hot in a suit”

“i don't doubt that. thank you,” she said, softer this time. “i’ll send you the details.”

he smiled and leaned against the locker, phone back in hand. “can’t wait to see you all dressed up.”

“ditto.”

“and y/n?”

“yeah?”

“wear something sexy for me.”

there’s a pause on the other end, then her laugh filters through the speaker, warm and bright.

“oh, so it’s that kind of event now?”

“depends on the dress,” he murmurs, clearly enjoying himself.

he could hear the smile in her voice. “i'll see what i can do.”

later that day, he stood just inside her bedroom, hands buried deep in his pockets, eyes moving slowly over the space.

it was neat — not in a sterile or untouched way, but intentional. warm. curated. the soft glow of a corner lamp painted the walls in gold, and her perfume lingered faintly in the air like a memory. a small woven basket in the corner held a couple of toys, and a playmat lay carefully folded beside it. near her desk, a collection of hand-drawn pictures were tacked to the wall — messy crayon hearts, clumsy rainbows, and a few childlike signatures in crooked lettering. he paused there for a moment, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he took them in.

“i’ll be out in a minute!” her voice called from the washroom.

“take your time,” he replied, though his pulse had already picked up. he hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet, but standing in her room — her world — with its soft edges and quiet affection, made something stir deep in his chest.

then the bathroom door opened.

and he went still.

she stepped out in black — that dress. it clung and draped in all the right places, the bodice hugging her waist just enough, an asymmetrical neckline pulling his gaze toward the delicate lace-up detailing along her back. the chiffon skirt moved with her like a sigh, catching lamplight and revealing flashes of skin through a thigh-high slit as she walked forward, graceful and completely unaware of the way she’d just shattered him.

the scarf she’d draped over her arm was momentarily forgotten as she glanced down to adjust the hem.

“okay,” she exhaled, smoothing her hair, still not looking at him. “what do you think?”

he didn’t answer. his mouth parted, stunned. he blinked, like his brain hadn’t quite caught up with his eyes.

when she finally looked up and caught his expression, she stilled. “what?”

he shook his head, laughed softly. “i’ve never seen you like this.”

“like what?” she teased, cheeks already heating up.

he took a step toward her, hand rising to her waist, careful not to wrinkle the fabric. “like you’re about to ruin me before we even leave.”

she laughed, swatting his chest. “you’re so dramatic.”

“am i?” he grinned, but his eyes were still heavy on her. “you walk out looking like that and expect me to act normal?”

“it’s just a dress.”

but he hadn’t stopped looking. not once. even as they left her room — him with a guiding hand at the small of her back, sneaking glances like he was afraid she might vanish — she could feel the tension humming under his skin.

they walked through the apartment, low lighting glowing across the hardwood floors, the city just starting to blush outside her windows.

“you know,” he said as she reached for her clutch, voice dipping low as he leaned against the doorframe, “you really shouldn’t have come out of that bathroom looking like that.”

she turned, brow raised, amused. “why not?”

his eyes darkened, and he moved toward her again, slower this time. his fingers found the edge of her scarf, brushing it aside before his mouth found her jaw, trailing kisses down toward her neck — slow, open-mouthed, just enough to make her breath catch.

“because now i’m thinking maybe we don’t go.”

her pulse jumped. “auston—”

“just hear me out,” he murmured, lips brushing that spot just beneath her ear. “we stay in. i’ll pour wine. you wear this—” he tugged lightly at the side of her dress, “or nothing at all. we’ll order takeout. i'll rub your feet. let you talk my ear off about your award. i’ll even pretend to know what any of it means.”

she was laughing, but it was breathless, her fingers curling into his lapel like she might actually give in.

“you’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

“no,” he said, trailing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “i’m so serious. you don’t know what it’s doing to me—watching you walk around like this. i’ll be good, baby. i swear. whatever you want.”

his hand slid over her thigh, just beneath the slit. heat bloomed low in her stomach.

“auston,” she warned, but it was weak, more of a sigh than anything else.

his voice dropped, a little rougher now. “say the word. i’ll lock that door and we won’t leave. not for hours.”

and she thought about it. god, she thought about it.

but just when her lips parted, just when she tilted toward him with a soft little gasp—he pulled back.

smug the same look he uses when he toys with her. as soon ashe met his grin she knew.

“nah,” he said, brushing her hair off her shoulder, “we better go. i wanna meet all your smart colleagues. see your campus. hear about how brilliant you were all those years i didn’t get to see it.”

she stared at him, flustered and flushed, trying not to smile too hard.

“you’re awful.”

“mm,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “but you like it.”

“god help me,” she muttered as she reached for her coat, “i really do.”

he took it from her hands and helped her into it, fingers lingering a moment too long on her arms, his gaze never softening.

and just before they stepped out into the hallway, he leaned in one last time.

“it’s not just anything,” he said, voice low, mouth brushing against hers, “you’re—”

he didn’t even finish it. just kissed her, slow and lingering, one hand still at her waist while the other cupped the back of her neck. her fingers curled around the lapels of his navy jacket — a deep, rich blue that complimented the black of her dress and made them look like something out of a movie.

when they pulled back, she gave him a look, that little half-smirk that always made his chest ache.

“so, you ready for the fancy ball?”

he raised a brow. “after seeing you in this? more than.”

and with one last look — reverent, almost — he offered her his hand.

“let's go i can't wait to show off my beautiful, intelligent, successful girl"

after the drive, he parks near the alumni center, quiet melodies spilling from the car speakers as they sit for a moment longer, the sun dipping just enough to cast a golden hue over the university’s buildings. when she reaches for the door, he catches her hand.

“wait,” he says, lacing their fingers. “can we—can we walk around first? i kinda wanna see it.”

she smiles, surprised. “the campus?”

“yeah.” he squeezes her hand. “i never really got… this. dorms, campus parties, lectures i’d sleep through.”

“so, you want the tour?” she teases, opening her door.

“only if the tour guide’s you.”

they wander past the stone buildings and wide lawns, the sidewalks worn from years of students racing to class. it’s quiet now, peaceful, the way only summer campuses can be. his fingers never leave hers—thumb brushing the side of her hand, pinky occasionally curling around hers tighter like he can’t help it.

it feels natural. like they’ve always been this way.

“it’s kinda pretty,” he murmurs, eyes scanning the ivy along one of the old lecture halls. “but i probably wouldn’t have fit in.”

she stops walking, looking up at him. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” he shrugs, glancing at a group of framed grad photos in the window of the humanities building. “i was on the road a lot with the program. bus to bus. rink to rink. i barely finished high school before i was flying to switzerland.”

she nudges his side gently. “i still think you would’ve been the talk of the campus.”

he raises an eyebrow, smirking. “yeah?”

“yeah.” she nods, smiling. “like, who’s that hockey player on arizona? why is he in my intro to psych class when he clearly doesn’t care? who is he dating?”

he grins. “and then they’d see me with you and wonder how ten hell i managed that?”

“exactly.”

he pulls her closer by the hand they’re still holding, steps in front of her now, slowing their pace. “well, for the record… i would’ve only gone for you.”

her breath catches, lips parting slightly.

“if we ever tried back then,” he says, voice softer now, eyes on hers, “when you weren’t with trent… i would’ve gone to college for you.”

she stares at him for a second, caught off guard by the sincerity. the weight of what he said. the way he said it—without hesitation, without shame. like there was no world in which he wouldn’t have followed her here if he’d had the chance.

“you mean that?” she asked, knowing he thought as much about their past as she did since reuniting

“i do,” he says. “i would’ve sat through any lecture, learned any dumb subject, just to meet you between classes. just to take you home after.”

she bites the inside of her cheek, heart aching with something tender and warm and unfair all at once.

they stand there for a moment longer, just them and the quiet rustle of wind in the trees above, until she reaches up and straightens the lapel of his navy suit jacket with a soft, “come on. let’s go be fancy.”

he holds the door open for her as they enter the building. but he keeps her hand in his.

he doesn’t let go.

the event hall hums with laughter and conversation, heels clicking over polished floors and the soft clink of glass. the décor is elegant but not overdone—maroon tablecloths, gold-rimmed glasses, small centerpieces of fresh-cut florals—and the moment they step in, y/n straightens up beside him, like muscle memory taking over.

“hey—” she starts, tugging his hand gently. “i should probably tell you—”

but before she can finish, a voice from across the room calls her name, warm and loud and familiar. “dr. y/l/n?”

and just like that, she’s swept away.

handshakes, hugs, inside jokes that stretch over years and years. professors who still call her “doc” with pride. a few former classmates who ask where she’s been hiding since graduation, eyes flicking briefly to auston before returning to her. she introduces him when she can—“this is auston”—but most of them just nod politely, not recognizing him.

and it’s almost a relief.

no photos, no autographs, no whispers of stats or injuries. it’s like being on another planet, one where auston gets to be just a guy at a party, holding his girl’s purse while she hugs her old program chair.

but eventually, she’s deep in conversation with a cluster of women talking about dissertation committees, so he excuses himself to the bar.

he orders them both drinks, leaning casually against the counter, glancing over his shoulder every so often to find her. that’s when someone steps up next to him.

“is that who i think it is?”

auston turns, slightly startled. the guy’s in a deep green suit, hair tousled like he didn’t try but somehow pulled it off. clean smile. confident posture.

“whoa. you’re… auston matthews, right?”

“yeah,” auston says slowly, extending a hand.

“i knew it. man, i followed your whole draft year. wild numbers. been a leafs fan since i was a kid—god help me.”

auston chuckles, relaxing a little. they slip into easy talk—line changes, summer training, the upcoming season. the guy knows his stuff, surprisingly well. auston finds himself actually enjoying it.

until the guy says, “so what brings you here? don’t tell me you've got a phd.”

auston smirks. “i’m here with my girl.”

the guy raises an eyebrow, amused. “anyone i know?”

auston opens his mouth, ready to say her name—but then, as if on cue, y/n walks up to his side.

“hey—sorry, that took forever,” she says, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“y/n,” the guy finishes with a grin, reaching out. “i was wondering when i’d see you”

auston’s brows lift, looking between them. “wait—you guys know each other?”

y/n winces like she’s taken a shot of bad tequila, smiling tightly. “unfortunately. auston… this is sebastian. sebastian, this is auston—my boyfriend.”

a beat.

the word lands in his chest like a surprise punch he didn’t see coming.

boyfriend.

he hadn’t expected it, not like that, not here. but his heart does a stupid little leap anyway. he glances at her—there’s a soft flush in her cheeks, the tiniest flicker of nerves in her eyes—and for a second, he forgets everything else.

“boyfriend, huh?” sebastian says, shaking auston’s hand now with a grin. “who knew ex would be dating auston matthews.”

auston blinks. his grip tightens slightly in the handshake.

ex?

he turns to y/n. she gives him a look. he's deluded.

“small world,” sebastian adds, sipping his drink, not even hiding the smirk that curls at the corners of his mouth.

auston pulls y/n a little closer by the waist, anchoring her beside him. “yeah,” he says, steady. “real small.”

y/n slides her fingers into his free hand, squeezing gently. when he glances at her again, she mouths, i’ll explain.

and for now, that’s enough.

because no matter who sebastian is or was, she just called auston my boyfriend in front of an ex—and that, in his book, feels like a win.

the only way y/n could describe sebastian was honestly being a pain. not in the way that kept her up at night or made her avoid rooms—but enough to make her roll her eyes whenever he popped up, like a stubborn weed in the middle of a perfectly manicured lawn.

she looked up from auston's side, eyebrow cocked. “excuse me? i am not your ex.”

he laughed, low and easy. “come on, we were exclusively sleeping together. that counts for something.”

she snorted, shaking her head. “once or twice. and frankly, it wasn’t memorable. considering how short you lasted.”

he shot her a mock offended look, but the spark in his eyes told her this was his favourite game.

“you always were the star pupil, head of the class,” he teased, leaning in like he was about to share a secret. “i was just the jealous sidekick.”

she bit back a smile. “keep telling yourself that, sebastian.”

sebastian’s eyes flicked between the two of them, that familiar smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth like he was gearing up for something clever.

“so this is the new guy?” he asked, voice dipped in condescension. "who knew your type was jocks?”

auston didn’t flinch. he stood still, straight-backed in his navy suit, the kind of posture that spoke more than words ever could. his hand didn’t move from where it lightly rested on the small of y/n’s back, just enough to be steadying, but far from possessive. showing how much he needed to hold her.

y/n felt it — that slight shift in pressure, the way his fingertips subtly grazed over the fabric of her dress like a silent anchor. she leaned ever so slightly into him, her weight natural against his side, the motion unnoticeable to anyone but the three of them.

“that’s me,” auston said evenly, his tone pleasant. “didn’t expect to run into a fan here.”

sebastian blinked, caught off guard. “a fan?”

“didn't you just say you were a huge leafs fan your whole life?" auston said smoothly, offering a half-smile as he handed y/n the drink he’d gone to get her, his eyes not quite leaving sebastian.

"i wouldn't say huge" he scrambles to recover himself. his eye twitched clearly irritated at the couple infront of him

“so, you two go way back?” auston asked casually, though the meaning simmered beneath.

y/n answered before sebastian could puff his chest. “nope. not at all.”

“huh.” auston looked down at her with something like affection warming his expression. “shame. seems like he remembers it more than you do.”

she smirked, lifting her glass to her lips. “must’ve made a bigger impression on himself.”

“probably why he’s still talking about it,” auston added under his breath, but just loud enough.

sebastian huffed out something like a laugh, clearly irritated. “well, if you ever want to catch up, y/n—”

“i think i’m all caught up,” she said simply, her gaze cool.

auston didn’t say anything else. he didn’t have to. his presence beside her was grounded and still, like a line had been drawn with a single quiet gesture. his thumb brushed once, lightly, against her back. a private motion.

and she leaned into him again, her heel just grazing his shoe, eyes never leaving sebastian.

whatever game sebastian had in mind, it was over before it started.

once sebastian finally slinked off — with a muttered goodbye and a smug little nod — auston guided y/n toward their assigned table, his hand warm and steady on the small of her back. he didn’t say anything right away, just pulled her chair out gently, lingering for a moment as she sat.

he took the seat beside her, not across. close enough their arms brushed when he shifted. he spread his legs a bit wider than necessary, his thigh angled toward hers, and her heel, completely on instinct, landed against the inside of his calf. when she crossed her legs, the point of her heel slowly dragged up his leg.

he tilted his head slightly, glancing down at her with that familiar, knowing grin.

“boyfriend, huh?” his voice was low, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, and wrapped in amusement.

she didn’t look at him right away, just took a sip of her drink and smirked behind the rim. “figured it’d get the point across.”

he hummed. “were you just saying that or is that what you want me to be?”

her lips twitched as she finally turned to him, eyes gleaming under the soft lighting. “i figured we were dating,” she murmured, her fingers reaching out to smooth the front of his tie, the movement slow and teasing. “but i was waiting for you to ask, matthews.”

he chuckled under his breath, watching her closely. “you were gonna make me ask?”

“of course,” she said, smug now. “you think i’d just give you the title without a little effort?”

“i take care of you everyday and make sure you're fed and caffeinated,” he whispered, eyes dark as he leaned in. “that counts as effort.”

her laugh was soft but warm, and her heel continued its lazy trail up his calf. “so dramatic.”

“i’m serious,” he murmured, his hand brushing against the curve of her knee under the table. “i like taking you out. more than that.”

she tilted her head, giving him that look — the one that always made him lean in without realizing it. “you like being mine?”

“i do.” he met her gaze, sincere beneath all the teasing. “don’t really care what we call it, as long as it’s us.”

her heel paused for a second, then moved again, slower this time. “you liked hearing it though, didn’t you?” she asked, voice quiet but knowing.

he glanced down to where her hand still played with his tie. “yeah,” he said, honest, soft. “i really did.”

his hand drifted under the table, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing along the slit of her dress, settling against the bare skin of her thigh. his thumb traced idle circles there, warmth pooling beneath his touch, and it made her breath catch just slightly.

“you’re gonna have to act surprised,” he murmured, voice low and meant only for her. his eyes stayed on hers, like the room had gone quiet just for them. “when i take you out to dinner sunday.”

she blinked, her brows pinching playfully. “why?”

he leaned in closer, his thumb still tracing along her skin. “because i was gonna ask you then to be my girlfriend then.”

she blinked again — the good kind of stunned — and then a grin split across her face so fast it made him laugh.

“you were gonna make a whole thing out of it,” she said, her tone delighted, her knee bumping his under the table. “did you already tell the restaurant?”

he nodded, trying not to look too pleased with himself. “i told them it was kind of a special occasion and asked for their most expensive bottle.”

she bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide, but it didn’t work. “you’re so sneaky.”

he smirked, squeezing her thigh gently. “and now you’ve ruined the whole surprise with your 'this is my sexy athletic rich boyfriend’ moment.”

"shut up" she laughed while lightly nudged his chest. he remained in her orbit. “that was necessary. i had to put your little fanboy in his place.” she leaned in, chin lifted defiantly, “

“who that guy?” auston scoffed under his breath. “he’s never recovering from not getting the best of you. can't say i'm complaining"

she leaned in again, just until her lips were at the corner of his jaw. "fine. i guess i'll act surprised sunday. wouldn't want to ruin your surprise”

he turned to face her, their noses nearly brushing. “yeah,” he said. “you better practice your acting skills, baby.”

they didn’t have long to dwell in their quiet bubble. moments later, the lights dimmed and the gentle clink of silverware settled into silence. auston leaned back in his seat, his fingers brushing against hers under the table.

“this the part where you get the nobel peace prize” he murmured, teasing, but soft with something heavier underneath.

she smiled, shaking her head like it wasn’t much. “just a little recognition. it’s not a big deal.”

he gave her a look — like he didn’t quite believe her, but let it go for now.

then the host took the stage, and as soon as her name was spoken — full name, said with purpose — a quiet hush of pride washed through the room. applause started small, then swelled as the announcer listed out the sheer scope of her involvement: lead organizer, community outreach, long-standing volunteer, mentorship programs, scholarship initiatives — things auston hadn’t even heard her mention once.

he sat a little straighter, his brow furrowed, glancing over at her as she stood, smoothing the front of her dress.

she didn’t look nervous. she looked radiant.

he clapped, of course he clapped, but his hands slowed for a moment when he noticed how many others were already on their feet. people were nodding, smiling with real warmth as she walked toward the stage. and one by one, they greeted her — a few shook her hand with reverence, others wrapped her in hugs that spoke of years of admiration and pride. she hugged them back just as tightly, her grin wide and uncontained, and for a second auston felt like he was seeing her through someone else’s eyes.

he always knew she was special. he always knew she worked hard and cared deeply and poured herself into everything she touched. but this — this was different.

this was everyone else knowing it too.

he lifted his phone to record her as she accepted the plaque, smiling with something soft and stunned behind the camera. she wasn’t just some girlfriend people whispered about being with him. she was the kind of person they whispered about with awe — “that’s her,” they’d say. “she hosts the annual adoption fundraisers with the arizona humane society.”

as she walked off stage, a younger volunteer stopped her mid-aisle with wide eyes, thanking her, hugging her. then another. and then an older woman approached her a proud gleam in hers, clasping her hands between both of hers. auston couldn’t hear what they said, but the way y/n’s eyes shimmered a little said enough.

when she returned to their table — cheeks flushed and smile still stretched wide — auston didn’t say anything right away. he just looked at her, the corners of his mouth pulling into something small and in awe.

“what?” she asked, slightly breathless, tucking her hair behind her ear.

he leaned in again, like he couldn’t not. “you’re incredible,” he murmured.

she blinked, taken aback for a beat, then softened. “you’re just saying that because of the plaque.”

“no,” he said, shaking his head. “i mean it. i knew you were amazing, but…”his voice dropped a little, eyes lingering on her face. “you’re kind of a big deal, huh?��

her cheeks flushed deeper, laughing shyly. “stop.”

he smiled. “never.” then, quieter — more to himself — “i’m so proud of you.”

and when she reached under the table, slipping her hand into his again, he squeezed it gently. he didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

the ballroom lights dimmed just slightly, the music shifting to something slower, something with a sultry beat that settled like smoke over the room. the clinking of glasses faded beneath the low thrum of the bass, voices dipping into whispers, laughter softening into murmurs.

auston held out his hand, and without hesitation, she took it.

they moved onto the dance floor with practiced ease, even if they'd never done this before — it felt instinctive, the way her body slid against his as he pulled her close, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand against his chest. the slit in her dress parted with each step, revealing more of her thigh than the room probably warranted, but auston didn’t seem to mind.

in fact, his eyes dropped to the exposed skin, then flicked back up, darker now. heavier.

“you know this dress is criminal,” he murmured, his voice brushing against her temple. “you’re lucky i've been on my best behaviour.”

she let out a quiet laugh, letting her head fall back slightly as she swayed with him. “this is your best behaviour?”

he leaned in just enough so only she could hear. “not even close,” his hand slid lower on her back, “all i can think of is how i’m gonna take you home. make good on everything i’ve been thinking about since you opened that damn door.”

she tilted her chin, lips brushing along the edge of his jaw. “like what?”

his hand squeezed at her hip, drawing her tighter into him. “like the way you looked when you walked out of that bathroom. had me speechless. almost canceled the night right then.”

“mm,” she hummed, fingers idly adjusting his tie. “you were supposed to play it cool.”

“i’ve never been good at that with you.” his lips brushed her cheekbone, breath warm and measured. “every time you move, this dress shifts and i get another inch of thigh. it’s not fair.”

“good,” she said, teasing, her heel dragging gently up his calf again. “you deserve to suffer a little.”

he let out a quiet groan and pressed his forehead to hers. “keep doing that and your boyfriend’s gonna lose his last thread of self-control.”

she smiled, soft but dangerous. “then maybe my boyfriend should take me home.”

his head lifted, eyes narrowing slightly. “yeah?”

she nodded once, eyes full of promise. “and make good on those promises.”

he stepped back just enough to grab her hand again, no hesitation this time.

“then let’s get the hell out of here.”

the car ride felt endless.

every red light, every turn, every slow driver in front of them — it all stretched out the ache between them, taut and pulsing, like a cord wound tight enough to snap. her hand had rested on his thigh the entire time, fingers drifting just enough to drive him half-mad, and every time he glanced at her, her eyes sparkled with knowing.

by the time they reached his house, the tension had twisted into something unbearable.

auston barely managed to park before he was out of the driver’s seat and around the car. she stepped out and he caught her by the waist, pressing her back against the door before it even closed, his mouth on hers in seconds. she gasped softly against him as he kissed her like he was starving — like that slow dance and the way she’d whispered my boyfriend should take me home had been a challenge, not a request.

her hands slid up his chest, over the lapels of his suit jacket, as he reached behind blindly, fumbling with the lock before the door gave with a soft click.

they stumbled inside, barely breaking the kiss, lips brushing between breathless laughs and hushed exhales. her back hit the inside of the front door with a gentle thud, and he kissed down her neck, his hands bracketing her waist, thumbs brushing the fabric of the slit in her dress.

“auston—” she started, voice a little breathless, her fingers gripping his jacket lapels again, “where’s your family?”

he paused just enough to look up at her, forehead resting against hers.

“at my sister’s,” he murmured, lips brushing hers between words. “they’re staying over. hiking in the morning.”

she let out a relieved laugh — short and sweet — before pulling him back into her with a quiet, eager noise. “perfect.”

he didn’t waste a second. his lips found hers again, deep and slow, and the heat between them roared back to life. he let his hands wander this time — dragging up her sides, sliding beneath the open drape of her dress at her back, fingers tracing the delicate lace-up ribbon there.

“you’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he said against her mouth, “this dress, those heels...”

“you’re not doing so bad yourself, matthews,” she whispered, tugging at his tie just enough to loosen it, sliding her hand beneath the collar. “looking like a navy-blue sin.”

he groaned, pulling her off the door just enough to spin them around, walking her backward down the hallway — each kiss a little more urgent, a little more desperate.

her heels clicked softly against the floor, echoing with each step he took toward his room.

“was the drive long for you too?” he asked, lips brushing over her cheek, down her jaw, as they moved.

“agonizing,” she replied, her hand on the back of his neck now. “i almost told you to pull over.”

he let out a low laugh, nipping at her earlobe. “don’t tempt me. next time, i will.”

her back hit the doorframe of his bedroom and she smiled, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, hair slightly out of place from all his hands. beautiful, he thought — not just from the dress, not just from the night — just her, here, like this, with him.

“you know,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth, “you really were the smartest person in the room tonight.”

she kissed him once, slowly. “and yet somehow... still not smart enough to keep my hands off you.”

he pulled her into the room, the door clicking shut behind them, sealing them off from the world.

“good,” he breathed, eyes dark. “because you’re not gonna need to.”

his voice was low, rough, barely a whisper against her lips, and it sent a sharp thrill through her. he didn’t give her time to reply — his mouth found hers again, deep and possessive, like he’d been waiting to say that all night.

she smiled into the kiss, fingers already working to undo the of his shirt, pulling it free from his pants as she walked him backward toward the bed.

“been waiting to get you out of this all night,” she murmured against his jaw, lips trailing down to his throat, “you look so good in blue.”

he let out a low groan, tipping his head back as her teeth grazed his skin.

“you’ve got a mouth on you tonight,” he muttered, his hands slipping beneath the hem of her dress, fingers ghosting up her thighs, “think i should do something about it.”

“you should,” she whispered, dragging her tongue along the shell of his ear, “but you won’t. you love when i get like this.”

he laughed, a deep sound in his chest that made her stomach flip.

“yeah,” he said, lips grazing her collarbone now, “i really do.”

she pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. her fingers tangled in the loosened tie still hanging around his neck.

“i can't believe you were gonna make me wait until the weekend ,” she said softly, tugging the tie just enough to bring him close again, “to ask me to be your girlfriend”

he nodded, eyes dark. “was gonna take you somewhere nice. make you blush. order wine. pretend i’m not dying to drag you home the whole time.”

“so romantic,” she teased, grin wicked.

he leaned in, his lips brushing just below her ear now. “i was gonna get you flowers. tell you how crazy you make me feel.”

“mm.” she curled her fingers around his neck. “you could’ve just said that tonight, saved me from being on the edge of my seat all the time.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he breathed. “besides, watching you in that dress tonight... torture. the good kind.”

“you like it?”

he pulled back just enough to look at her — really look — the dim light catching the soft sheen of her skin, the way the chiffon skirt clung to her hips, the way the slit revealed just enough leg to haunt him forever.

“you know i do.” he ran his hand up her thigh, slow and purposeful. “you wore this for me?”

she nodded, lips barely parted. “told you. wanted to see if you’d behave. this is your reward.”

his hand slid higher. “you already know the answer to that.”

she gasped as his fingers reached the apex of her thigh, just brushing against the thin lace beneath.

“auston...”

“yeah?” he whispered, mouth brushing her neck again. “say it.”

“want you to touch me,” she said, voice trembling slightly. “want you to tell me all the things you were thinking about during that stupid drive home.”

he hummed low in his throat. “i was thinking about this,” he said, hand sliding beneath the lace. “how warm you’d feel. how wet.”

she whimpered, fingers clutching his shirt. “i was thinking about it too. how good you looked at that bar. how smug you were when you said i was your girl.”

“you are.” his lips were right at her ear now. “mine. and i’ve barely started showing you what that means.”

“then start,” she whispered, pulling him closer, the heat between them nearly unbearable. “please.”

his eyes darkened as he scooped her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist again as he carried her the rest of the way to the bed.

“say it again,” he murmured, easing her down onto the mattress. “say please.”

she looked up at him, lips parted, breath shallow, and smiled.

“please, auston.”

he leaned down, brushing his mouth over her collarbone, over the hollow of her throat.

“good girl.”

the words rumbled against her throat like a promise, low and deliberate, and she exhaled a quiet whimper, arching slightly beneath him.

his mouth found hers again, slower this time, more purposeful. she could feel the heat rolling off him, the restraint he was just barely holding on to as his hands wandered her body, like he was learning her all over again.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been thinking about this,” he murmured, one hand sweeping her leg aside so he could settle between her thighs, the split of her dress falling away like water.

“yeah?” she whispered, chasing his mouth. “how long?”

“since you walked into the room that day at the clinc,” he said, lips brushing hers between every word, “since you looked up at me like you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“i did,” she confessed breathlessly, fingers tugging his tie free and tossing it to the side. “i wanted you to lose your mind.”

he chuckled darkly, pulling the straps of her dress down her shoulders, revealing the sheer edge of her lace bra. his mouth followed the path of his fingers.

"you wear this for me?" his mouth watered as he traced the lace of her lingerie. the same shade of her discarded gown.

"of course. only for you" she managed at the trace of his hands

“congrats,” he muttered against her skin, “you got what you wanted.”

“not yet, i didn’t.”

“mm,” he hummed, dragging his lips lower, fingers brushing along her ribs. “you’re greedy tonight.”

“i want all of you,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair, voice thinner now, needier. “not just the way you kiss me. not just the way you look at me like you could ruin me.”

he stilled at that. just for a moment. then his eyes lifted to hers. dark, weighted, molten.

“i don’t want to ruin you,” he said quietly. “i want to worship you.”

she swore she forgot how to breathe.

but he didn’t let her linger in it — his mouth was already sliding down her sternum, his hands lifting her skirt until it bunched around her hips, baring her completely. his voice came again, low, heavy, right against the inside of her thigh

“tell me what you need.”

her hips lifted subtly, instinctively. “you.”

“where?” he asked, thumb brushing the edge of her lace.

“everywhere,” she whispered, flushed and gasping as he kissed the inside of her knee.

“you don’t make it easy to behave.”

“i don’t want you to.”

he hooked her underwear with slow, deliberate fingers, drawing it down her legs, dragging his mouth across her thigh until she was trembling beneath him.

“look at you,” he murmured, spreading her legs just enough so he could press a kiss to her inner thigh. “laid out like this for me, all soft and sweet.”

“auston—”

“shh, baby.” his hand came up, holding her hip gently as his lips dipped lower. “you’ll get what you want.”

and she did.

she got every breathless stroke of his tongue, every low groan against her that vibrated through her spine. her hand gripped the sheets, the other buried in his hair, tugging him closer as he worked her open with slow, perfect focus. he whispered her name like a vow between strokes, like a man devout in worship.

“that’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice rough and full of pride, “just like that. taste so good. been thinking about you like this since the second you looked at me in that damn dress.”

she bucked beneath him, overwhelmed, thighs trembling against the pressure of his shoulders — but he didn’t ease up. he held her there, firm and focused, dragging her to the edge with quiet praise and relentless need.

when she came, it was with a stifled whimper into her hand, his name falling from her lips like it meant something sacred.

but he didn’t stop.

“auston—”

he crawled up her body, mouth slick and grin lazy. his weight pressed her into the mattress just enough to make her feel it — the full brunt of what they'd just done — and she melted beneath him, arms wrapping around his shoulders like instinct.

he reached toward the nightstand, grabbing a condom packet. her eyes narrowed at the familiar red packaging.

“someone was presumptuous,” she teased, fingertips trailing down his back, nails light and slow. “is that a costco value-pack?”

he raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "there’s this girl i’m seeing. can’t get her out of my head. figured she might finally let me have her.”

"now," he brought the packet to her lips, hovering with a grin. “rip it open for me, baby.”

she bit the corner, smiling around it as she tore it clean, handing it back. “smooth.”

“told you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her mouth like he hadn’t just wrecked her. “not done with you.”

“you weren’t kidding,” she breathed, hands already at his belt, fingers trembling slightly.

“never am when it comes to you.”

she paused, fingers brushing his waistband. “just—before we do this... it’s been a long time. for me.”

he stilled, eyes softening. “me too.”

her brow furrowed, just a little. “really?"

he chuckled, low and warm. “not since earlier this year. and never like this.”

her tension eased. something settled.

he kissed her again, deeper now, as she freed him from his pants, their hands moving with shared urgency — kisses messy, laughter hushed between breathless curses. when her hand closed around him, he let out a guttural groan, hips twitching into her palm.

“fuck,” he whispered into her mouth. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“then die happy,” she murmured, wrapping her legs around his waist as he eased into her, slow and careful, stretching her inch by inch.

her breath caught, face buried in his neck. “you feel—god, auston—”

“you’re mine,” he growled, moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made the headboard groan. “say it.”

“i’m yours,” she gasped, arms tight around him. “only yours.”

she cried out when he drove into her again, head falling back.

“shit,” she whimpered, nails sinking into his skin. “auston—”

he froze instantly, a hand running down her spine. “too much?”

her breath came ragged. “you’re just—jesus—you’re really…”

“big?” he offered, smirking despite the restraint in his eyes.

a breathless laugh escaped her. “what does the team feed you?”

he chuckled, brushing damp strands from her forehead. “just protein shakes and the fear of god.”

“this should be illegal,” she muttered, clinging tighter.

“want me to stop?”

she groaned. “no. just—i need a second.”

he kissed her forehead gently. “you wanna try something else?”

“like what?” she asked into his chest.

he grinned, slow and smug, and flipped them carefully, settling against the headboard with her in his lap.

“you on top,” he murmured. “your pace. i just watch.”

her legs tightened around him, something hot and electric in her eyes. “just watch?”

“or help,” he grinned, voice thick. “whatever you need.”

“you’re insane,” she whispered, lowering herself onto him again — slower this time, her breath shaking with every inch.

his jaw flexed. “yeah. for you.”

she moaned, soft and low, as he filled her again, and the stretch left her dizzy. but the way he held her steady, murmuring encouragement against her skin, made it easier to breathe.

“god, you’re thick,” she whispered.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“it’s not,” she gasped, starting to move. “but you better buy me a smoothie tomorrow. i won’t be able to walk.”

his eyes darkened as he watched her ride him, breath catching with every roll of her hips. “i’ll buy you a smoothie. i’ll buy you the damn blender.”

“good,” she whispered, tugging his hair as she kissed him, hungry and slow.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned. “you’re killing me.”

“you can handle it,” she teased. “big, strong hockey player like you?”

“smartass,” he growled, gripping her hips and grinding her down hard enough to make her cry out. “ride me like you mean it.”

they chased each other like that — hips rocking, mouths hungry, hands greedy — until everything else blurred and only they remained.

“baby—fuck—wait—” his voice cracked near her ear, arms tightening.

she froze, breathless. “what is it?”

“no, just—” he kissed her jaw, her cheek, her mouth. “wait for me.”

her brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

his forehead pressed to hers, voice breaking. “when i go back… when summer ends. i don’t know how i’m gonna do it, but i need to know you’ll wait.”

she went still, chest rising and falling against his.

“auston,” she whispered. “i didn’t think we were talking about that yet.”

“i know. but you’re it for me. i don’t care how long it’s been — it’s you. and if i leave not knowing you’re mine…”

she cupped his face, eyes shining. “you’ve been mine since the first time you made my niece like you more than me.”

a soft laugh escaped him. “so you’ll wait?”

“i’ll wait,” she nodded. “as long as you promise you’ll come back.”

his kiss was slow, deep. “i always come back to you.”

and then there were no more words.

just hands and breath and the soft sound of her name against his lips as they fell apart together — his arms tight around her, her mouth warm on his neck, the sheets tangled beneath them like a promise.

they froze there, tangled in each other beneath the covers, breath still uneven, he held her tighter than he ever had before.

she laid collapsed against his chest, shaking and spent, all he could do was kiss her temple and whisper, “you feel like home.”

and so did he.

the morning sun spilled lazily through the windows, casting soft light over the tangled sheets and still bodies. his arms were still around her — one underneath her, curled under her ribcage, and the other draped across her stomach like instinct.

she blinked awake slowly, her face still pressed into his chest. his heartbeat was steady, slow. she felt his breath on her forehead, and her nose scrunched as it tickled.

“you’re awake,” she mumbled, voice raspy.

“and you drool,” he replied sleepily, voice still husky from sleep.

“you're lying,” she grinned, not bothering to move, nuzzling further in instead.

his chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “if you say so, baby.”

they laid there for a while, bare and content and quiet. then his hand slid down her back, and he stretched beneath her.

“stay here,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “i’ll make breakfast.”

“you?” she peeked up, suspicious. “you know how to do that?”

“have a little faith.” he smirked, carefully untangling from her. “you’ll see.”

she rolled onto her back and winced slightly.

he caught it immediately.

“sore?” he asked, a little too smug.

“shut up,” she groaned, covering her eyes.

“you’re welcome.”

she threw a pillow at him as he laughed his way down the hall, wearing nothing but boxers and yesterday’s grin. she eventually got up, tugging on the closest things she could find — his oversized leafs tee and the pair of sweats he left draped over her chair sometime this week.

he heard her before he saw her — the subtle creak of the stairs, the lazy scrape of her heel against the floor. morning light stretched in long ribbons across the kitchen tiles, and the scent of coffee still lingered faintly in the air from when he’d brewed it earlier just the way she liked it. he didn’t expect her to be awake yet, not after the night they’d had. his muscles still ached in the best way, a quiet reminder of just how close they’d been only hours ago.

but then she stepped into the doorway, and his whole world tilted.

she was wearing one of his team shirts — not one he usually wore around her, not even one he thought she’d ever noticed. it was older, slightly faded, vintage navy with the classic crest stretched gently across her chest, and it hung off her like it was made for her.

the fabric slipped off one shoulder, revealing warm skin and the soft slope of her collarbone. it fell just far enough to cover her, but not enough to be decent, not when paired with the loose grey sweats she’d tugged halfway up her hips. her hair was pulled into a knot on her hair, and she looked like everything he didn’t know he’d missed.

he froze with the spatula in his hand, halfway through flipping her eggs.

she blinked up at him sleepily. “what?”

he couldn’t answer. his mouth opened slightly, then closed again, and all he could do was stare. not in a crude way, not even in an overly awestruck way — just... completely undone. there was something about her like this that unraveled him, something quieter than desire but just as intense. maybe it was the way she moved so effortlessly through his space, like she belonged there. maybe it was the shirt — how natural it looked on her, how wrong it felt that he’d never seen her in it before. he’d spent so many mornings with her, but this one felt different. deeper. familiar in the way that made his chest ache.

“that shirt,” he said, voice low, finally finding the words. “i’ve never seen you wear that one.”

she glanced down, tugged the hem idly. “this? found it buried in the back of your closet last night.”

he let out a soft laugh, more breath than sound. “you look... fuck. don’t take it off unless i do it for you”

she rolled her eyes and padded over to pour herself some coffee. he tried to act normal after that, focused on their breakfast, but his eyes kept drifting back to her — to the slope of her legs, to the way the shirt swayed with every movement. she didn’t even notice the effect she had on him. or maybe she did. she always did.

they sat together at the island, knees brushing beneath the counter, the air filled with the clink of cutlery and quiet conversation. she sipped her coffee with that familiar hum of contentment, and he watched her through the corner of his eye, just happy to be near her like this again. something about mornings with her felt more intimate than anything they did at night — like every shared bite, every sleepy smile, was another reason he wanted her forever.

after they finished eating, she leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh and started to push herself up.

“i should clean up,” she mumbled, moving to stand.

he didn’t let her.

“nope,” he said, voice low as he came around behind her.

“no?” she asked, glancing up at him.

before she could say anything else, his hands were curling around her thighs and, with one effortless motion, he lifted her clean off the chair.

“what are you—”

she gasped, instinctively clinging to his shoulders as laughter spilled out of her.

“you’re insane!” she giggled, arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

“you’re obviously still sore,” he murmured against her skin, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “i’m carrying you back to bed.”

“this is your excuse to manhandle me.”

“you caught.”

“i’m not complaining.”

he smiled, the kind that made her stomach twist, and pressed a kiss just below her ear as he walked them slowly down the hall. her laughter trailed behind them, light and breathless, legs swinging lazily with each step. the hem of her shirt — his shirt — crept higher with every movement, and he didn’t even bother pretending not to notice.

when they reached the bedroom, he kicked the door open with his foot and laid her down gently, like she was something breakable. she landed on the bed with a soft sigh, hair fanned out across the pillow, looking up at him with that lazy smile he couldn’t get enough of.

her fingers reached for him, drawing him down without a word.

“i’d wait forever for you.”

her breath caught, the weight of his words settling somewhere deep in her chest. she was reminded of his promises last night, coming to light. the realization dawned on her how serious he was to make it work.

she blinked up at him, eyes softer now, lips parting like she might say something — but didn’t. instead, she reached for his hand, fingers finding his like they belonged there, like they always had.

he didn’t look away.

neither did she.

and in the quiet between them, something shifted. not in a loud, crashing way — but in the way her body relaxed against the sheets, in the way he leaned closer like it was instinct, in the way their joined hands stayed between them, steady and sure.

he wasn’t just someone she would miss anymore at the end of summer.

he was someone she had.

someone who knew her laugh, her silences, the way she pulled her sleeves over her hands when she got nervous. someone who made space for her without asking her to shrink.

he’d already seen the most vulnerable parts of her — and he hadn’t run.

that meant more to her than anything else in the world.

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106 @siennaluvshcky @macka

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[m34tthews]

CHAPTER SEVEN

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 9.5k

warnings — minors dni. sexual content

an — late night update

masterlist

auston groaned through the final set of shoulder presses, sweat sliding down the back of his neck as ryan, his team-appointed personal trainer, counted him down in that same unfazed, nonchalant tone he’d heard for years.

“three more. come on. don’t wimp out on me now, matthews.”

“i’m not,” auston huffed, pushing through the burn. “you sound like lou.” their head strength and conditioning coach.

ryan chuckled, arms crossed as he watched auston’s form. “he was pissed, you know. ghosting your offseason program? rookie mistake.”

“i didn’t ghost,” auston muttered, voice strained. “i just… paused.”

ryan shot him a look. “for how long?”

“a couple weeks.”

“and what were you doing for those couple weeks?”

auston grinned despite the ache in his arms, a dumb smile tugging at his lips even mid-set. “seeing someone.”

ryan raised a brow. “oh?”

“yeah.” auston dropped the weights with a quiet thud and sat back on the bench, chest rising and falling with effort. “her name’s y/n. we grew up together. ran into her again when i came back here. haven’t really stopped talking since.”

“huh.” ryan tossed him a towel. “and she’s the reason you skipped workouts?”

“no,” auston said quickly, then hesitated. “okay, maybe a little.”

ryan laughed. “she must be something.”

auston nodded as he wiped the sweat from his face. “she is.”

once they wrapped up and ryan moved on to another client, auston lingered in the locker room of the private training facility, cooling down. he scrolled through his phone, fingers tapping through old texts — most of them from y/n — until her name lit up the screen with a new one.

baby ❤️: i need you when you’re done

his brows pulled together. no emojis. no extra words. just those five. he didn’t waste time replying. instead, he immediately hit call, switching to speaker as he peeled off his damp shirt and reached for a fresh one in his bag.

“hey,” he said, stepping into the shower area while the water ran behind him, steam starting to fill the space. “you good?”

“yeah, all good,” she said quickly, her voice light but a little breathless, like she’d rushed to pick up. “so… i need to ask you something.”

he laughed under his breath, setting his phone on the dry ledge of the sink. “do you have any idea how that text sounded?”

“what?” she asked, a smile in her tone.

“you text me ‘i need you’ like you’re in trouble, and then answer the phone all casual. you trying to give me a heart attack?”

she giggled. “okay, fair. sorry. i didn’t mean for it to sound that dramatic. i was tending to a patient and texted you in a rush.”

he stepped under the water, angling himself so he could still hear her. “so what’s up? what do you need?”

“do you… have a suit?”

he paused mid-shampoo, blinking water from his eyes. “yeah, course i do. i’m not a caveman. why?”

“well,” she said, and he could hear the shyness creeping in, “i kind of forgot tonight is the alumni ball at ASU. it’s this formal thing they do every year for alumni, recent grads, and professors… but this one’s specifically for stem graduates. they invited me because i’m receiving an award for community outreach and mentorship.”

he blinked, a slow grin pulling at his face. “and you need a date.”

“i do,” she said with a soft laugh. “i know it’s last minute and you’ve been so busy lately and i’ve already stolen so much of your time—”

“hey,” he cut in, rinsing off, “you didn’t steal anything. i wanted every second with you. and second—of course i’ll go.”

“really?”

“yes.” he stepped out, grabbing a towel. “i’ll be your date. though, you’ve got some nerve.”

he continued, toweling off. “taking me to a fancy dinner as your date. you trying to impress me, y/n?”

she giggled again, warm and fond. “technically it’s not dinner. it’s a ball.”

“even worse. now i gotta wear a tie.”

“you look good in a tie.”

“you look good in everything.”

she hummed, pleased. “you’re sure you’re up for it?”

“y/n,” he said, more serious now, pulling on fresh clothes, “any excuse to be near you tonight? i’m in. i'll have you know i hot in a suit”

“i don't doubt that. thank you,” she said, softer this time. “i’ll send you the details.”

he smiled and leaned against the locker, phone back in hand. “can’t wait to see you all dressed up.”

“ditto.”

“and y/n?”

“yeah?”

“wear something sexy for me.”

there’s a pause on the other end, then her laugh filters through the speaker, warm and bright.

“oh, so it’s that kind of event now?”

“depends on the dress,” he murmurs, clearly enjoying himself.

he could hear the smile in her voice. “i'll see what i can do.”

later that day, he stood just inside her bedroom, hands buried deep in his pockets, eyes moving slowly over the space.

it was neat — not in a sterile or untouched way, but intentional. warm. curated. the soft glow of a corner lamp painted the walls in gold, and her perfume lingered faintly in the air like a memory. a small woven basket in the corner held a couple of toys, and a playmat lay carefully folded beside it. near her desk, a collection of hand-drawn pictures were tacked to the wall — messy crayon hearts, clumsy rainbows, and a few childlike signatures in crooked lettering. he paused there for a moment, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he took them in.

“i’ll be out in a minute!” her voice called from the washroom.

“take your time,” he replied, though his pulse had already picked up. he hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet, but standing in her room — her world — with its soft edges and quiet affection, made something stir deep in his chest.

then the bathroom door opened.

and he went still.

she stepped out in black — that dress. it clung and draped in all the right places, the bodice hugging her waist just enough, an asymmetrical neckline pulling his gaze toward the delicate lace-up detailing along her back. the chiffon skirt moved with her like a sigh, catching lamplight and revealing flashes of skin through a thigh-high slit as she walked forward, graceful and completely unaware of the way she’d just shattered him.

the scarf she’d draped over her arm was momentarily forgotten as she glanced down to adjust the hem.

“okay,” she exhaled, smoothing her hair, still not looking at him. “what do you think?”

he didn’t answer. his mouth parted, stunned. he blinked, like his brain hadn’t quite caught up with his eyes.

when she finally looked up and caught his expression, she stilled. “what?”

he shook his head, laughed softly. “i’ve never seen you like this.”

“like what?” she teased, cheeks already heating up.

he took a step toward her, hand rising to her waist, careful not to wrinkle the fabric. “like you’re about to ruin me before we even leave.”

she laughed, swatting his chest. “you’re so dramatic.”

“am i?” he grinned, but his eyes were still heavy on her. “you walk out looking like that and expect me to act normal?”

“it’s just a dress.”

but he hadn’t stopped looking. not once. even as they left her room — him with a guiding hand at the small of her back, sneaking glances like he was afraid she might vanish — she could feel the tension humming under his skin.

they walked through the apartment, low lighting glowing across the hardwood floors, the city just starting to blush outside her windows.

“you know,” he said as she reached for her clutch, voice dipping low as he leaned against the doorframe, “you really shouldn’t have come out of that bathroom looking like that.”

she turned, brow raised, amused. “why not?”

his eyes darkened, and he moved toward her again, slower this time. his fingers found the edge of her scarf, brushing it aside before his mouth found her jaw, trailing kisses down toward her neck — slow, open-mouthed, just enough to make her breath catch.

“because now i’m thinking maybe we don’t go.”

her pulse jumped. “auston—”

“just hear me out,” he murmured, lips brushing that spot just beneath her ear. “we stay in. i’ll pour wine. you wear this—” he tugged lightly at the side of her dress, “or nothing at all. we’ll order takeout. i'll rub your feet. let you talk my ear off about your award. i’ll even pretend to know what any of it means.”

she was laughing, but it was breathless, her fingers curling into his lapel like she might actually give in.

“you’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

“no,” he said, trailing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “i’m so serious. you don’t know what it’s doing to me—watching you walk around like this. i’ll be good, baby. i swear. whatever you want.”

his hand slid over her thigh, just beneath the slit. heat bloomed low in her stomach.

“auston,” she warned, but it was weak, more of a sigh than anything else.

his voice dropped, a little rougher now. “say the word. i’ll lock that door and we won’t leave. not for hours.”

and she thought about it. god, she thought about it.

but just when her lips parted, just when she tilted toward him with a soft little gasp—he pulled back.

smug the same look he uses when he toys with her. as soon ashe met his grin she knew.

“nah,” he said, brushing her hair off her shoulder, “we better go. i wanna meet all your smart colleagues. see your campus. hear about how brilliant you were all those years i didn’t get to see it.”

she stared at him, flustered and flushed, trying not to smile too hard.

“you’re awful.”

“mm,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “but you like it.”

“god help me,” she muttered as she reached for her coat, “i really do.”

he took it from her hands and helped her into it, fingers lingering a moment too long on her arms, his gaze never softening.

and just before they stepped out into the hallway, he leaned in one last time.

“it’s not just anything,” he said, voice low, mouth brushing against hers, “you’re—”

he didn’t even finish it. just kissed her, slow and lingering, one hand still at her waist while the other cupped the back of her neck. her fingers curled around the lapels of his navy jacket — a deep, rich blue that complimented the black of her dress and made them look like something out of a movie.

when they pulled back, she gave him a look, that little half-smirk that always made his chest ache.

“so, you ready for the fancy ball?”

he raised a brow. “after seeing you in this? more than.”

and with one last look — reverent, almost — he offered her his hand.

“let's go i can't wait to show off my beautiful, intelligent, successful girl"

after the drive, he parks near the alumni center, quiet melodies spilling from the car speakers as they sit for a moment longer, the sun dipping just enough to cast a golden hue over the university’s buildings. when she reaches for the door, he catches her hand.

“wait,” he says, lacing their fingers. “can we—can we walk around first? i kinda wanna see it.”

she smiles, surprised. “the campus?”

“yeah.” he squeezes her hand. “i never really got… this. dorms, campus parties, lectures i’d sleep through.”

“so, you want the tour?” she teases, opening her door.

“only if the tour guide’s you.”

they wander past the stone buildings and wide lawns, the sidewalks worn from years of students racing to class. it’s quiet now, peaceful, the way only summer campuses can be. his fingers never leave hers—thumb brushing the side of her hand, pinky occasionally curling around hers tighter like he can’t help it.

it feels natural. like they’ve always been this way.

“it’s kinda pretty,” he murmurs, eyes scanning the ivy along one of the old lecture halls. “but i probably wouldn’t have fit in.”

she stops walking, looking up at him. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” he shrugs, glancing at a group of framed grad photos in the window of the humanities building. “i was on the road a lot with the program. bus to bus. rink to rink. i barely finished high school before i was flying to switzerland.”

she nudges his side gently. “i still think you would’ve been the talk of the campus.”

he raises an eyebrow, smirking. “yeah?”

“yeah.” she nods, smiling. “like, who’s that hockey player on arizona? why is he in my intro to psych class when he clearly doesn’t care? who is he dating?”

he grins. “and then they’d see me with you and wonder how ten hell i managed that?”

“exactly.”

he pulls her closer by the hand they’re still holding, steps in front of her now, slowing their pace. “well, for the record… i would’ve only gone for you.”

her breath catches, lips parting slightly.

“if we ever tried back then,” he says, voice softer now, eyes on hers, “when you weren’t with trent… i would’ve gone to college for you.”

she stares at him for a second, caught off guard by the sincerity. the weight of what he said. the way he said it—without hesitation, without shame. like there was no world in which he wouldn’t have followed her here if he’d had the chance.

“you mean that?” she asked, knowing he thought as much about their past as she did since reuniting

“i do,” he says. “i would’ve sat through any lecture, learned any dumb subject, just to meet you between classes. just to take you home after.”

she bites the inside of her cheek, heart aching with something tender and warm and unfair all at once.

they stand there for a moment longer, just them and the quiet rustle of wind in the trees above, until she reaches up and straightens the lapel of his navy suit jacket with a soft, “come on. let’s go be fancy.”

he holds the door open for her as they enter the building. but he keeps her hand in his.

he doesn’t let go.

the event hall hums with laughter and conversation, heels clicking over polished floors and the soft clink of glass. the décor is elegant but not overdone—maroon tablecloths, gold-rimmed glasses, small centerpieces of fresh-cut florals—and the moment they step in, y/n straightens up beside him, like muscle memory taking over.

“hey—” she starts, tugging his hand gently. “i should probably tell you—”

but before she can finish, a voice from across the room calls her name, warm and loud and familiar. “dr. y/l/n?”

and just like that, she’s swept away.

handshakes, hugs, inside jokes that stretch over years and years. professors who still call her “doc” with pride. a few former classmates who ask where she’s been hiding since graduation, eyes flicking briefly to auston before returning to her. she introduces him when she can—“this is auston”—but most of them just nod politely, not recognizing him.

and it’s almost a relief.

no photos, no autographs, no whispers of stats or injuries. it’s like being on another planet, one where auston gets to be just a guy at a party, holding his girl’s purse while she hugs her old program chair.

but eventually, she’s deep in conversation with a cluster of women talking about dissertation committees, so he excuses himself to the bar.

he orders them both drinks, leaning casually against the counter, glancing over his shoulder every so often to find her. that’s when someone steps up next to him.

“is that who i think it is?”

auston turns, slightly startled. the guy’s in a deep green suit, hair tousled like he didn’t try but somehow pulled it off. clean smile. confident posture.

“whoa. you’re… auston matthews, right?”

“yeah,” auston says slowly, extending a hand.

“i knew it. man, i followed your whole draft year. wild numbers. been a leafs fan since i was a kid—god help me.”

auston chuckles, relaxing a little. they slip into easy talk—line changes, summer training, the upcoming season. the guy knows his stuff, surprisingly well. auston finds himself actually enjoying it.

until the guy says, “so what brings you here? don’t tell me you've got a phd.”

auston smirks. “i’m here with my girl.”

the guy raises an eyebrow, amused. “anyone i know?”

auston opens his mouth, ready to say her name—but then, as if on cue, y/n walks up to his side.

“hey—sorry, that took forever,” she says, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“y/n,” the guy finishes with a grin, reaching out. “i was wondering when i’d see you”

auston’s brows lift, looking between them. “wait—you guys know each other?”

y/n winces like she’s taken a shot of bad tequila, smiling tightly. “unfortunately. auston… this is sebastian. sebastian, this is auston—my boyfriend.”

a beat.

the word lands in his chest like a surprise punch he didn’t see coming.

boyfriend.

he hadn’t expected it, not like that, not here. but his heart does a stupid little leap anyway. he glances at her—there’s a soft flush in her cheeks, the tiniest flicker of nerves in her eyes—and for a second, he forgets everything else.

“boyfriend, huh?” sebastian says, shaking auston’s hand now with a grin. “who knew ex would be dating auston matthews.”

auston blinks. his grip tightens slightly in the handshake.

ex?

he turns to y/n. she gives him a look. he's deluded.

“small world,” sebastian adds, sipping his drink, not even hiding the smirk that curls at the corners of his mouth.

auston pulls y/n a little closer by the waist, anchoring her beside him. “yeah,” he says, steady. “real small.”

y/n slides her fingers into his free hand, squeezing gently. when he glances at her again, she mouths, i’ll explain.

and for now, that’s enough.

because no matter who sebastian is or was, she just called auston my boyfriend in front of an ex—and that, in his book, feels like a win.

the only way y/n could describe sebastian was honestly being a pain. not in the way that kept her up at night or made her avoid rooms—but enough to make her roll her eyes whenever he popped up, like a stubborn weed in the middle of a perfectly manicured lawn.

she looked up from auston's side, eyebrow cocked. “excuse me? i am not your ex.”

he laughed, low and easy. “come on, we were exclusively sleeping together. that counts for something.”

she snorted, shaking her head. “once or twice. and frankly, it wasn’t memorable. considering how short you lasted.”

he shot her a mock offended look, but the spark in his eyes told her this was his favourite game.

“you always were the star pupil, head of the class,” he teased, leaning in like he was about to share a secret. “i was just the jealous sidekick.”

she bit back a smile. “keep telling yourself that, sebastian.”

sebastian’s eyes flicked between the two of them, that familiar smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth like he was gearing up for something clever.

“so this is the new guy?” he asked, voice dipped in condescension. "who knew your type was jocks?”

auston didn’t flinch. he stood still, straight-backed in his navy suit, the kind of posture that spoke more than words ever could. his hand didn’t move from where it lightly rested on the small of y/n’s back, just enough to be steadying, but far from possessive. showing how much he needed to hold her.

y/n felt it — that slight shift in pressure, the way his fingertips subtly grazed over the fabric of her dress like a silent anchor. she leaned ever so slightly into him, her weight natural against his side, the motion unnoticeable to anyone but the three of them.

“that’s me,” auston said evenly, his tone pleasant. “didn’t expect to run into a fan here.”

sebastian blinked, caught off guard. “a fan?”

“didn't you just say you were a huge leafs fan your whole life?" auston said smoothly, offering a half-smile as he handed y/n the drink he’d gone to get her, his eyes not quite leaving sebastian.

"i wouldn't say huge" he scrambles to recover himself. his eye twitched clearly irritated at the couple infront of him

“so, you two go way back?” auston asked casually, though the meaning simmered beneath.

y/n answered before sebastian could puff his chest. “nope. not at all.”

“huh.” auston looked down at her with something like affection warming his expression. “shame. seems like he remembers it more than you do.”

she smirked, lifting her glass to her lips. “must’ve made a bigger impression on himself.”

“probably why he’s still talking about it,” auston added under his breath, but just loud enough.

sebastian huffed out something like a laugh, clearly irritated. “well, if you ever want to catch up, y/n—”

“i think i’m all caught up,” she said simply, her gaze cool.

auston didn’t say anything else. he didn’t have to. his presence beside her was grounded and still, like a line had been drawn with a single quiet gesture. his thumb brushed once, lightly, against her back. a private motion.

and she leaned into him again, her heel just grazing his shoe, eyes never leaving sebastian.

whatever game sebastian had in mind, it was over before it started.

once sebastian finally slinked off — with a muttered goodbye and a smug little nod — auston guided y/n toward their assigned table, his hand warm and steady on the small of her back. he didn’t say anything right away, just pulled her chair out gently, lingering for a moment as she sat.

he took the seat beside her, not across. close enough their arms brushed when he shifted. he spread his legs a bit wider than necessary, his thigh angled toward hers, and her heel, completely on instinct, landed against the inside of his calf. when she crossed her legs, the point of her heel slowly dragged up his leg.

he tilted his head slightly, glancing down at her with that familiar, knowing grin.

“boyfriend, huh?” his voice was low, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, and wrapped in amusement.

she didn’t look at him right away, just took a sip of her drink and smirked behind the rim. “figured it’d get the point across.”

he hummed. “were you just saying that or is that what you want me to be?”

her lips twitched as she finally turned to him, eyes gleaming under the soft lighting. “i figured we were dating,” she murmured, her fingers reaching out to smooth the front of his tie, the movement slow and teasing. “but i was waiting for you to ask, matthews.”

he chuckled under his breath, watching her closely. “you were gonna make me ask?”

“of course,” she said, smug now. “you think i’d just give you the title without a little effort?”

“i take care of you everyday and make sure you're fed and caffeinated,” he whispered, eyes dark as he leaned in. “that counts as effort.”

her laugh was soft but warm, and her heel continued its lazy trail up his calf. “so dramatic.”

“i’m serious,” he murmured, his hand brushing against the curve of her knee under the table. “i like taking you out. more than that.”

she tilted her head, giving him that look — the one that always made him lean in without realizing it. “you like being mine?”

“i do.” he met her gaze, sincere beneath all the teasing. “don’t really care what we call it, as long as it’s us.”

her heel paused for a second, then moved again, slower this time. “you liked hearing it though, didn’t you?” she asked, voice quiet but knowing.

he glanced down to where her hand still played with his tie. “yeah,” he said, honest, soft. “i really did.”

his hand drifted under the table, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing along the slit of her dress, settling against the bare skin of her thigh. his thumb traced idle circles there, warmth pooling beneath his touch, and it made her breath catch just slightly.

“you’re gonna have to act surprised,” he murmured, voice low and meant only for her. his eyes stayed on hers, like the room had gone quiet just for them. “when i take you out to dinner sunday.”

she blinked, her brows pinching playfully. “why?”

he leaned in closer, his thumb still tracing along her skin. “because i was gonna ask you then to be my girlfriend then.”

she blinked again — the good kind of stunned — and then a grin split across her face so fast it made him laugh.

“you were gonna make a whole thing out of it,” she said, her tone delighted, her knee bumping his under the table. “did you already tell the restaurant?”

he nodded, trying not to look too pleased with himself. “i told them it was kind of a special occasion and asked for their most expensive bottle.”

she bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide, but it didn’t work. “you’re so sneaky.”

he smirked, squeezing her thigh gently. “and now you’ve ruined the whole surprise with your 'this is my sexy athletic rich boyfriend’ moment.”

"shut up" she laughed while lightly nudged his chest. he remained in her orbit. “that was necessary. i had to put your little fanboy in his place.” she leaned in, chin lifted defiantly, “

“who that guy?” auston scoffed under his breath. “he’s never recovering from not getting the best of you. can't say i'm complaining"

she leaned in again, just until her lips were at the corner of his jaw. "fine. i guess i'll act surprised sunday. wouldn't want to ruin your surprise”

he turned to face her, their noses nearly brushing. “yeah,” he said. “you better practice your acting skills, baby.”

they didn’t have long to dwell in their quiet bubble. moments later, the lights dimmed and the gentle clink of silverware settled into silence. auston leaned back in his seat, his fingers brushing against hers under the table.

“this the part where you get the nobel peace prize” he murmured, teasing, but soft with something heavier underneath.

she smiled, shaking her head like it wasn’t much. “just a little recognition. it’s not a big deal.”

he gave her a look — like he didn’t quite believe her, but let it go for now.

then the host took the stage, and as soon as her name was spoken — full name, said with purpose — a quiet hush of pride washed through the room. applause started small, then swelled as the announcer listed out the sheer scope of her involvement: lead organizer, community outreach, long-standing volunteer, mentorship programs, scholarship initiatives — things auston hadn’t even heard her mention once.

he sat a little straighter, his brow furrowed, glancing over at her as she stood, smoothing the front of her dress.

she didn’t look nervous. she looked radiant.

he clapped, of course he clapped, but his hands slowed for a moment when he noticed how many others were already on their feet. people were nodding, smiling with real warmth as she walked toward the stage. and one by one, they greeted her — a few shook her hand with reverence, others wrapped her in hugs that spoke of years of admiration and pride. she hugged them back just as tightly, her grin wide and uncontained, and for a second auston felt like he was seeing her through someone else’s eyes.

he always knew she was special. he always knew she worked hard and cared deeply and poured herself into everything she touched. but this — this was different.

this was everyone else knowing it too.

he lifted his phone to record her as she accepted the plaque, smiling with something soft and stunned behind the camera. she wasn’t just some girlfriend people whispered about being with him. she was the kind of person they whispered about with awe — “that’s her,” they’d say. “she hosts the annual adoption fundraisers with the arizona humane society.”

as she walked off stage, a younger volunteer stopped her mid-aisle with wide eyes, thanking her, hugging her. then another. and then an older woman approached her a proud gleam in hers, clasping her hands between both of hers. auston couldn’t hear what they said, but the way y/n’s eyes shimmered a little said enough.

when she returned to their table — cheeks flushed and smile still stretched wide — auston didn’t say anything right away. he just looked at her, the corners of his mouth pulling into something small and in awe.

“what?” she asked, slightly breathless, tucking her hair behind her ear.

he leaned in again, like he couldn’t not. “you’re incredible,” he murmured.

she blinked, taken aback for a beat, then softened. “you’re just saying that because of the plaque.”

“no,” he said, shaking his head. “i mean it. i knew you were amazing, but…”his voice dropped a little, eyes lingering on her face. “you’re kind of a big deal, huh?”

her cheeks flushed deeper, laughing shyly. “stop.”

he smiled. “never.” then, quieter — more to himself — “i’m so proud of you.”

and when she reached under the table, slipping her hand into his again, he squeezed it gently. he didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

the ballroom lights dimmed just slightly, the music shifting to something slower, something with a sultry beat that settled like smoke over the room. the clinking of glasses faded beneath the low thrum of the bass, voices dipping into whispers, laughter softening into murmurs.

auston held out his hand, and without hesitation, she took it.

they moved onto the dance floor with practiced ease, even if they'd never done this before — it felt instinctive, the way her body slid against his as he pulled her close, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand against his chest. the slit in her dress parted with each step, revealing more of her thigh than the room probably warranted, but auston didn’t seem to mind.

in fact, his eyes dropped to the exposed skin, then flicked back up, darker now. heavier.

“you know this dress is criminal,” he murmured, his voice brushing against her temple. “you’re lucky i've been on my best behaviour.”

she let out a quiet laugh, letting her head fall back slightly as she swayed with him. “this is your best behaviour?”

he leaned in just enough so only she could hear. “not even close,” his hand slid lower on her back, “all i can think of is how i’m gonna take you home. make good on everything i’ve been thinking about since you opened that damn door.”

she tilted her chin, lips brushing along the edge of his jaw. “like what?”

his hand squeezed at her hip, drawing her tighter into him. “like the way you looked when you walked out of that bathroom. had me speechless. almost canceled the night right then.”

“mm,” she hummed, fingers idly adjusting his tie. “you were supposed to play it cool.”

“i’ve never been good at that with you.” his lips brushed her cheekbone, breath warm and measured. “every time you move, this dress shifts and i get another inch of thigh. it’s not fair.”

“good,” she said, teasing, her heel dragging gently up his calf again. “you deserve to suffer a little.”

he let out a quiet groan and pressed his forehead to hers. “keep doing that and your boyfriend’s gonna lose his last thread of self-control.”

she smiled, soft but dangerous. “then maybe my boyfriend should take me home.”

his head lifted, eyes narrowing slightly. “yeah?”

she nodded once, eyes full of promise. “and make good on those promises.”

he stepped back just enough to grab her hand again, no hesitation this time.

“then let’s get the hell out of here.”

the car ride felt endless.

every red light, every turn, every slow driver in front of them — it all stretched out the ache between them, taut and pulsing, like a cord wound tight enough to snap. her hand had rested on his thigh the entire time, fingers drifting just enough to drive him half-mad, and every time he glanced at her, her eyes sparkled with knowing.

by the time they reached his house, the tension had twisted into something unbearable.

auston barely managed to park before he was out of the driver’s seat and around the car. she stepped out and he caught her by the waist, pressing her back against the door before it even closed, his mouth on hers in seconds. she gasped softly against him as he kissed her like he was starving — like that slow dance and the way she’d whispered my boyfriend should take me home had been a challenge, not a request.

her hands slid up his chest, over the lapels of his suit jacket, as he reached behind blindly, fumbling with the lock before the door gave with a soft click.

they stumbled inside, barely breaking the kiss, lips brushing between breathless laughs and hushed exhales. her back hit the inside of the front door with a gentle thud, and he kissed down her neck, his hands bracketing her waist, thumbs brushing the fabric of the slit in her dress.

“auston—” she started, voice a little breathless, her fingers gripping his jacket lapels again, “where’s your family?”

he paused just enough to look up at her, forehead resting against hers.

“at my sister’s,” he murmured, lips brushing hers between words. “they’re staying over. hiking in the morning.”

she let out a relieved laugh — short and sweet — before pulling him back into her with a quiet, eager noise. “perfect.”

he didn’t waste a second. his lips found hers again, deep and slow, and the heat between them roared back to life. he let his hands wander this time — dragging up her sides, sliding beneath the open drape of her dress at her back, fingers tracing the delicate lace-up ribbon there.

“you’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he said against her mouth, “this dress, those heels...”

“you’re not doing so bad yourself, matthews,” she whispered, tugging at his tie just enough to loosen it, sliding her hand beneath the collar. “looking like a navy-blue sin.”

he groaned, pulling her off the door just enough to spin them around, walking her backward down the hallway — each kiss a little more urgent, a little more desperate.

her heels clicked softly against the floor, echoing with each step he took toward his room.

“was the drive long for you too?” he asked, lips brushing over her cheek, down her jaw, as they moved.

“agonizing,” she replied, her hand on the back of his neck now. “i almost told you to pull over.”

he let out a low laugh, nipping at her earlobe. “don’t tempt me. next time, i will.”

her back hit the doorframe of his bedroom and she smiled, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, hair slightly out of place from all his hands. beautiful, he thought — not just from the dress, not just from the night — just her, here, like this, with him.

“you know,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth, “you really were the smartest person in the room tonight.”

she kissed him once, slowly. “and yet somehow... still not smart enough to keep my hands off you.”

he pulled her into the room, the door clicking shut behind them, sealing them off from the world.

“good,” he breathed, eyes dark. “because you’re not gonna need to.”

his voice was low, rough, barely a whisper against her lips, and it sent a sharp thrill through her. he didn’t give her time to reply — his mouth found hers again, deep and possessive, like he’d been waiting to say that all night.

she smiled into the kiss, fingers already working to undo the of his shirt, pulling it free from his pants as she walked him backward toward the bed.

“been waiting to get you out of this all night,” she murmured against his jaw, lips trailing down to his throat, “you look so good in blue.”

he let out a low groan, tipping his head back as her teeth grazed his skin.

“you’ve got a mouth on you tonight,” he muttered, his hands slipping beneath the hem of her dress, fingers ghosting up her thighs, “think i should do something about it.”

“you should,” she whispered, dragging her tongue along the shell of his ear, “but you won’t. you love when i get like this.”

he laughed, a deep sound in his chest that made her stomach flip.

“yeah,” he said, lips grazing her collarbone now, “i really do.”

she pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. her fingers tangled in the loosened tie still hanging around his neck.

“i can't believe you were gonna make me wait until the weekend ,” she said softly, tugging the tie just enough to bring him close again, “to ask me to be your girlfriend”

he nodded, eyes dark. “was gonna take you somewhere nice. make you blush. order wine. pretend i’m not dying to drag you home the whole time.”

“so romantic,” she teased, grin wicked.

he leaned in, his lips brushing just below her ear now. “i was gonna get you flowers. tell you how crazy you make me feel.”

“mm.” she curled her fingers around his neck. “you could’ve just said that tonight, saved me from being on the edge of my seat all the time.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he breathed. “besides, watching you in that dress tonight... torture. the good kind.”

“you like it?”

he pulled back just enough to look at her — really look — the dim light catching the soft sheen of her skin, the way the chiffon skirt clung to her hips, the way the slit revealed just enough leg to haunt him forever.

“you know i do.” he ran his hand up her thigh, slow and purposeful. “you wore this for me?”

she nodded, lips barely parted. “told you. wanted to see if you’d behave. this is your reward.”

his hand slid higher. “you already know the answer to that.”

she gasped as his fingers reached the apex of her thigh, just brushing against the thin lace beneath.

“auston...”

“yeah?” he whispered, mouth brushing her neck again. “say it.”

“want you to touch me,” she said, voice trembling slightly. “want you to tell me all the things you were thinking about during that stupid drive home.”

he hummed low in his throat. “i was thinking about this,” he said, hand sliding beneath the lace. “how warm you’d feel. how wet.”

she whimpered, fingers clutching his shirt. “i was thinking about it too. how good you looked at that bar. how smug you were when you said i was your girl.”

“you are.” his lips were right at her ear now. “mine. and i’ve barely started showing you what that means.”

“then start,” she whispered, pulling him closer, the heat between them nearly unbearable. “please.”

his eyes darkened as he scooped her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist again as he carried her the rest of the way to the bed.

“say it again,” he murmured, easing her down onto the mattress. “say please.”

she looked up at him, lips parted, breath shallow, and smiled.

“please, auston.”

he leaned down, brushing his mouth over her collarbone, over the hollow of her throat.

“good girl.”

the words rumbled against her throat like a promise, low and deliberate, and she exhaled a quiet whimper, arching slightly beneath him.

his mouth found hers again, slower this time, more purposeful. she could feel the heat rolling off him, the restraint he was just barely holding on to as his hands wandered her body, like he was learning her all over again.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been thinking about this,” he murmured, one hand sweeping her leg aside so he could settle between her thighs, the split of her dress falling away like water.

“yeah?” she whispered, chasing his mouth. “how long?”

“since you walked into the room that day at the clinc,” he said, lips brushing hers between every word, “since you looked up at me like you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“i did,” she confessed breathlessly, fingers tugging his tie free and tossing it to the side. “i wanted you to lose your mind.”

he chuckled darkly, pulling the straps of her dress down her shoulders, revealing the sheer edge of her lace bra. his mouth followed the path of his fingers.

"you wear this for me?" his mouth watered as he traced the lace of her lingerie. the same shade of her discarded gown.

"of course. only for you" she managed at the trace of his hands

“congrats,” he muttered against her skin, “you got what you wanted.”

“not yet, i didn’t.”

“mm,” he hummed, dragging his lips lower, fingers brushing along her ribs. “you’re greedy tonight.”

“i want all of you,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair, voice thinner now, needier. “not just the way you kiss me. not just the way you look at me like you could ruin me.”

he stilled at that. just for a moment. then his eyes lifted to hers. dark, weighted, molten.

“i don’t want to ruin you,” he said quietly. “i want to worship you.”

she swore she forgot how to breathe.

but he didn’t let her linger in it — his mouth was already sliding down her sternum, his hands lifting her skirt until it bunched around her hips, baring her completely. his voice came again, low, heavy, right against the inside of her thigh

“tell me what you need.”

her hips lifted subtly, instinctively. “you.”

“where?” he asked, thumb brushing the edge of her lace.

“everywhere,” she whispered, flushed and gasping as he kissed the inside of her knee.

“you don’t make it easy to behave.”

“i don’t want you to.”

he hooked her underwear with slow, deliberate fingers, drawing it down her legs, dragging his mouth across her thigh until she was trembling beneath him.

“look at you,” he murmured, spreading her legs just enough so he could press a kiss to her inner thigh. “laid out like this for me, all soft and sweet.”

“auston—”

“shh, baby.” his hand came up, holding her hip gently as his lips dipped lower. “you’ll get what you want.”

and she did.

she got every breathless stroke of his tongue, every low groan against her that vibrated through her spine. her hand gripped the sheets, the other buried in his hair, tugging him closer as he worked her open with slow, perfect focus. he whispered her name like a vow between strokes, like a man devout in worship.

“that’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice rough and full of pride, “just like that. taste so good. been thinking about you like this since the second you looked at me in that damn dress.”

she bucked beneath him, overwhelmed, thighs trembling against the pressure of his shoulders — but he didn’t ease up. he held her there, firm and focused, dragging her to the edge with quiet praise and relentless need.

when she came, it was with a stifled whimper into her hand, his name falling from her lips like it meant something sacred.

but he didn’t stop.

“auston—”

he crawled up her body, mouth slick and grin lazy. his weight pressed her into the mattress just enough to make her feel it — the full brunt of what they'd just done — and she melted beneath him, arms wrapping around his shoulders like instinct.

he reached toward the nightstand, grabbing a condom packet. her eyes narrowed at the familiar red packaging.

“someone was presumptuous,” she teased, fingertips trailing down his back, nails light and slow. “is that a costco value-pack?”

he raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "there’s this girl i’m seeing. can’t get her out of my head. figured she might finally let me have her.”

"now," he brought the packet to her lips, hovering with a grin. “rip it open for me, baby.”

she bit the corner, smiling around it as she tore it clean, handing it back. “smooth.”

“told you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her mouth like he hadn’t just wrecked her. “not done with you.”

“you weren’t kidding,” she breathed, hands already at his belt, fingers trembling slightly.

“never am when it comes to you.”

she paused, fingers brushing his waistband. “just—before we do this... it’s been a long time. for me.”

he stilled, eyes softening. “me too.”

her brow furrowed, just a little. “really?"

he chuckled, low and warm. “not since earlier this year. and never like this.”

her tension eased. something settled.

he kissed her again, deeper now, as she freed him from his pants, their hands moving with shared urgency — kisses messy, laughter hushed between breathless curses. when her hand closed around him, he let out a guttural groan, hips twitching into her palm.

“fuck,” he whispered into her mouth. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“then die happy,” she murmured, wrapping her legs around his waist as he eased into her, slow and careful, stretching her inch by inch.

her breath caught, face buried in his neck. “you feel—god, auston—”

“you’re mine,” he growled, moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made the headboard groan. “say it.”

“i’m yours,” she gasped, arms tight around him. “only yours.”

she cried out when he drove into her again, head falling back.

“shit,” she whimpered, nails sinking into his skin. “auston—”

he froze instantly, a hand running down her spine. “too much?”

her breath came ragged. “you’re just—jesus—you’re really…”

“big?” he offered, smirking despite the restraint in his eyes.

a breathless laugh escaped her. “what does the team feed you?”

he chuckled, brushing damp strands from her forehead. “just protein shakes and the fear of god.”

“this should be illegal,” she muttered, clinging tighter.

“want me to stop?”

she groaned. “no. just—i need a second.”

he kissed her forehead gently. “you wanna try something else?”

“like what?” she asked into his chest.

he grinned, slow and smug, and flipped them carefully, settling against the headboard with her in his lap.

“you on top,” he murmured. “your pace. i just watch.”

her legs tightened around him, something hot and electric in her eyes. “just watch?”

“or help,” he grinned, voice thick. “whatever you need.”

“you’re insane,” she whispered, lowering herself onto him again — slower this time, her breath shaking with every inch.

his jaw flexed. “yeah. for you.”

she moaned, soft and low, as he filled her again, and the stretch left her dizzy. but the way he held her steady, murmuring encouragement against her skin, made it easier to breathe.

“god, you’re thick,” she whispered.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“it’s not,” she gasped, starting to move. “but you better buy me a smoothie tomorrow. i won’t be able to walk.”

his eyes darkened as he watched her ride him, breath catching with every roll of her hips. “i’ll buy you a smoothie. i’ll buy you the damn blender.”

“good,” she whispered, tugging his hair as she kissed him, hungry and slow.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned. “you’re killing me.”

“you can handle it,” she teased. “big, strong hockey player like you?”

“smartass,” he growled, gripping her hips and grinding her down hard enough to make her cry out. “ride me like you mean it.”

they chased each other like that — hips rocking, mouths hungry, hands greedy — until everything else blurred and only they remained.

“baby—fuck—wait—” his voice cracked near her ear, arms tightening.

she froze, breathless. “what is it?”

“no, just—” he kissed her jaw, her cheek, her mouth. “wait for me.”

her brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

his forehead pressed to hers, voice breaking. “when i go back… when summer ends. i don’t know how i’m gonna do it, but i need to know you’ll wait.”

she went still, chest rising and falling against his.

“auston,” she whispered. “i didn’t think we were talking about that yet.”

“i know. but you’re it for me. i don’t care how long it’s been — it’s you. and if i leave not knowing you’re mine…”

she cupped his face, eyes shining. “you’ve been mine since the first time you made my niece like you more than me.”

a soft laugh escaped him. “so you’ll wait?”

“i’ll wait,” she nodded. “as long as you promise you’ll come back.”

his kiss was slow, deep. “i always come back to you.”

and then there were no more words.

just hands and breath and the soft sound of her name against his lips as they fell apart together — his arms tight around her, her mouth warm on his neck, the sheets tangled beneath them like a promise.

they froze there, tangled in each other beneath the covers, breath still uneven, he held her tighter than he ever had before.

she laid collapsed against his chest, shaking and spent, all he could do was kiss her temple and whisper, “you feel like home.”

and so did he.

the morning sun spilled lazily through the windows, casting soft light over the tangled sheets and still bodies. his arms were still around her — one underneath her, curled under her ribcage, and the other draped across her stomach like instinct.

she blinked awake slowly, her face still pressed into his chest. his heartbeat was steady, slow. she felt his breath on her forehead, and her nose scrunched as it tickled.

“you’re awake,” she mumbled, voice raspy.

“and you drool,” he replied sleepily, voice still husky from sleep.

“you're lying,” she grinned, not bothering to move, nuzzling further in instead.

his chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “if you say so, baby.”

they laid there for a while, bare and content and quiet. then his hand slid down her back, and he stretched beneath her.

“stay here,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “i’ll make breakfast.”

“you?” she peeked up, suspicious. “you know how to do that?”

“have a little faith.” he smirked, carefully untangling from her. “you’ll see.”

she rolled onto her back and winced slightly.

he caught it immediately.

“sore?” he asked, a little too smug.

“shut up,” she groaned, covering her eyes.

“you’re welcome.”

she threw a pillow at him as he laughed his way down the hall, wearing nothing but boxers and yesterday’s grin. she eventually got up, tugging on the closest things she could find — his oversized leafs tee and the pair of sweats he left draped over her chair sometime this week.

he heard her before he saw her — the subtle creak of the stairs, the lazy scrape of her heel against the floor. morning light stretched in long ribbons across the kitchen tiles, and the scent of coffee still lingered faintly in the air from when he’d brewed it earlier just the way she liked it. he didn’t expect her to be awake yet, not after the night they’d had. his muscles still ached in the best way, a quiet reminder of just how close they’d been only hours ago.

but then she stepped into the doorway, and his whole world tilted.

she was wearing one of his team shirts — not one he usually wore around her, not even one he thought she’d ever noticed. it was older, slightly faded, vintage navy with the classic crest stretched gently across her chest, and it hung off her like it was made for her.

the fabric slipped off one shoulder, revealing warm skin and the soft slope of her collarbone. it fell just far enough to cover her, but not enough to be decent, not when paired with the loose grey sweats she’d tugged halfway up her hips. her hair was pulled into a knot on her hair, and she looked like everything he didn’t know he’d missed.

he froze with the spatula in his hand, halfway through flipping her eggs.

she blinked up at him sleepily. “what?”

he couldn’t answer. his mouth opened slightly, then closed again, and all he could do was stare. not in a crude way, not even in an overly awestruck way — just... completely undone. there was something about her like this that unraveled him, something quieter than desire but just as intense. maybe it was the way she moved so effortlessly through his space, like she belonged there. maybe it was the shirt — how natural it looked on her, how wrong it felt that he’d never seen her in it before. he’d spent so many mornings with her, but this one felt different. deeper. familiar in the way that made his chest ache.

“that shirt,” he said, voice low, finally finding the words. “i’ve never seen you wear that one.”

she glanced down, tugged the hem idly. “this? found it buried in the back of your closet last night.”

he let out a soft laugh, more breath than sound. “you look... fuck. don’t take it off unless i do it for you”

she rolled her eyes and padded over to pour herself some coffee. he tried to act normal after that, focused on their breakfast, but his eyes kept drifting back to her — to the slope of her legs, to the way the shirt swayed with every movement. she didn’t even notice the effect she had on him. or maybe she did. she always did.

they sat together at the island, knees brushing beneath the counter, the air filled with the clink of cutlery and quiet conversation. she sipped her coffee with that familiar hum of contentment, and he watched her through the corner of his eye, just happy to be near her like this again. something about mornings with her felt more intimate than anything they did at night — like every shared bite, every sleepy smile, was another reason he wanted her forever.

after they finished eating, she leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh and started to push herself up.

“i should clean up,” she mumbled, moving to stand.

he didn’t let her.

“nope,” he said, voice low as he came around behind her.

“no?” she asked, glancing up at him.

before she could say anything else, his hands were curling around her thighs and, with one effortless motion, he lifted her clean off the chair.

“what are you—”

she gasped, instinctively clinging to his shoulders as laughter spilled out of her.

“you’re insane!” she giggled, arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

“you’re obviously still sore,” he murmured against her skin, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “i’m carrying you back to bed.”

“this is your excuse to manhandle me.”

“you caught.”

“i’m not complaining.”

he smiled, the kind that made her stomach twist, and pressed a kiss just below her ear as he walked them slowly down the hall. her laughter trailed behind them, light and breathless, legs swinging lazily with each step. the hem of her shirt — his shirt — crept higher with every movement, and he didn’t even bother pretending not to notice.

when they reached the bedroom, he kicked the door open with his foot and laid her down gently, like she was something breakable. she landed on the bed with a soft sigh, hair fanned out across the pillow, looking up at him with that lazy smile he couldn’t get enough of.

her fingers reached for him, drawing him down without a word.

“i’d wait forever for you.”

her breath caught, the weight of his words settling somewhere deep in her chest. she was reminded of his promises last night, coming to light. the realization dawned on her how serious he was to make it work.

she blinked up at him, eyes softer now, lips parting like she might say something — but didn’t. instead, she reached for his hand, fingers finding his like they belonged there, like they always had.

he didn’t look away.

neither did she.

and in the quiet between them, something shifted. not in a loud, crashing way — but in the way her body relaxed against the sheets, in the way he leaned closer like it was instinct, in the way their joined hands stayed between them, steady and sure.

he wasn’t just someone she would miss anymore at the end of summer.

he was someone she had.

someone who knew her laugh, her silences, the way she pulled her sleeves over her hands when she got nervous. someone who made space for her without asking her to shrink.

he’d already seen the most vulnerable parts of her — and he hadn’t run.

that meant more to her than anything else in the world.

next

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