#auston matthews one shot

[datsyuks]

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

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

Warnings: smut toward the end

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mitchelimarns]

“go to hell” is lame. it’s outdated. it’s cliched. it’s impossible. “i hope your favourite player on your favourite team signs with the vegas golden knights” is unique. it’s creative. it’s plausible. it could happen to me.

[3416]

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

[jackhues]

karma - auston matthews

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

likes are good, reblogs are better!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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[girljeremystrong]

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

TOR@NYI | 11.01.23

[chickensaladquinn]

Chicken Salad Quinn pt 9 - Day with Mommy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cuteandhughesy]

auston matthews -

“you’re such a loser”.

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

“keep still you little… troll”.

please & thank you. love your work. :)

Drunk In Love ╰┈➤ AM34

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

[word count] 2.1k

warnings: drinking | drunk behaviour | suggestive dialogue

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

🎵 drunk in love by beyoncé & jay-z

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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

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

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

auston put two and two together pretty quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

auston opens the passenger door, "almost."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you giggle, "you like that?"

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

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

"not when you're drunk."

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

"not at all," he reassures you softly.

"but you don't want me."

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

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

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

"yes?" he asks, brow quirked.

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

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

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

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

auston shakes his head gently, "no."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah."

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

[lightsoutmatthews]

congrats on 100 followers! for the celebration, can I request: You´re sick. You´re not going to work, end of story + auston matthews

"You´re sick. You´re not going to work." - Auston Matthews

summary: you´re not sick, at least that is what you are telling yourself.

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: being sick (headache, stomach cramps), mentions of being close to fainting

authors note:

Third installment of the 100 Follower celly!! Thanks for the really positive feedback on the other two!!!

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

The bright light of the open curtains of the bedroom stung in your eyes and immediately shot a string of pain through your head. Instinctively you covered your eyes with one of your hands to stop the light from burning in your face.

You hadn’t felt well when you went to bed last night, Auston shooting you worried glances when he joined you in your shared bedroom, but you brushed him off by saying it was just a headache and that it would be better after a few hours of sleep.

Unfortunately, you were wrong and the pounding in your head was even worse than the night prior.

Additionally, your stomach was cramping up as soon as you even thought about getting up and a cold sweat was running down your spine, sending shivers all over your body. You didn’t have time to be sick right now. A big presentation was coming up at work next week and there was still so much to do, you couldn’t miss a day this close to the deadline.

Getting up felt like the most difficult thing you had to do in weeks. Your body felt so heavy you had no idea how you even managed to swing your legs over the edge of the bed and walk into the bathroom to take a hot shower with the hope that it would at least make you feel somewhat better. At least to a point where you could show up to the office and get some work done.

Downstairs you heard dishes clinking together as well as some music playing. Even though it was faint the sound stung in your head, sending a new wave of pain through your body making you sink together in pain.

Using the limited strength you had left to get to the bathroom directly connected to your bedroom and turned on the shower so it could run hot while you got undressed and grabbed a towel from the towel warmer.

Exhaustion overtook you before you could do either of these things and you had to sit down on the toilet seat as to not fall over right then and there.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there. The shower still running, slowly filling up the room with hot steam that made you sweat even more than you had before.

“Baby?” Auston´s warm voice ripped you from the sickness void you were trapped in, but you didn’t have the strength to look up and see where he was shouting from. His voice sounding distant and too close all at the same time.

“Babe?” he shouted again, this time sounding even closer than before.

When a shadow overcast you, you knew he had entered the bathroom. He turned off the shower before kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You knew he wasn’t talking very loudly but to you it sounded like he was shouting. Wincing and moving backwards, away from where his loud voice was coming from you slipped your hands from his and moved them to cover your eyes again.

“I´m fine,” you hardly muttered out. “I just need a second to get dressed.” The two of you had been together for long enough that you knew he wasn’t believing a word you were saying but you said it anyways, you needed to get to work.

“What time is it?” you asked weakly. “Time to go back to bed and rest,” he shot back. “Babe, excuse me saying that but you look like shit, you need to rest.” You shook your head which resulted in more wincing given it was making your headache ten times worse.

“Can´t. Presentation.” Was all you mustered up the strength to say and you didn’t have to look up at him to see that he was shaking his head.

“You can barely hold yourself up, there is no way you make it out of the house much less are you in any condition to drive,” you wanted to roll your eyes at him and tell him he should not be so dramatic, but you could not because your stomach cramped together once again, sending a painful whimper out of your mouth.

Auston let out a quiet sigh. “Baby, …” he didn’t say anything else, but you could hear the frustration and concern in his voice. He knew he had no real leverage here because of the many times where he went to practice or to a game with lingering injuries which he should have let heal properly before taking the ice again. Every time you told him he should sit out one more game, wait one more practice but he had never listened.

“I´m fine, Auston.” The first full sentence you managed to say since he entered the bathroom. “I just need to get showered and dressed. I´m probably already late.” Another sigh left his mouth, but he got up from the floor. “Fine, if you manage to get out the door without wincing in pain, I will let you go. See you downstairs in a bit.” And with that he left you alone, just like you asked him to.

Getting showered and dressed felt like running a marathon. You were exhausted by the time you got out of the shower, barely managing to keep standing up during it because everything hurt, and your head was still hurting like someone was slamming a hammer right to your brain.

Your muscles ached and you felt like you would throw up any second if you moved too quickly. For a second you considered if Auston was right, and you should go back to bed and just sleep. Your body certainly told you to do so, but you couldn’t let your team down this close to the finish line.

With another painful whimper you opened the bedroom door and made your way downstairs. Every step hurt, your head still pounding, the ground suddenly getting blurry, stopping you in the middle of the stairs to make sure you wouldn’t fall.

When you felt relatively stable again you continued walking, slow but steady.

Auston awaited you at the kitchen island. Two plates of breakfast and two cups of coffee placed neatly on coasters waiting for you. The thought of eating or drinking anything sent another clench through your stomach but you tried to put on a brave face, remembering what he said in the bathroom earlier.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his voice once again sounding like he was shouting. “Yeah, splendid,” you breathed out trying not to indicate that you were still in any pain. The ibuprofen you took upstairs not quite working yet.

“Great, sit down, eat some toast before you go.” he was clearly mocking you, knowing there was no way you would make it out the front door much less drive the 30 minutes to work.

Your stomach clenched even harder than before when he mentioned food. A whine leaving your mouth immediately as you cramped together in pain.

“Yeah, that’s it. You´re sick. You´re not going to work, end of discussion.” With that he walked over to you and picked you up bridal style as if you weigh nothing. “Couch or bed?” he asked stopping in his movement when he realized the suddenness just made you feel more pain. “Bed,” you mumbled and leaned your pounding head against his chest. The warmth radiating from his body something comfortable but the smell of his shower gel doing nothing to make your head feel better.

He carried you up the stairs, took of your work outfit and draped one of his large shirts over your body that had already started to shiver again. “Can you close the blinds?” you requested quietly when you were nestled under the sheets again. The ibuprofen slowly making your head less painful and your stomach clenches almost bearable. “Of course,” Auston mumbled, moving unhurried to close them, casting the room in almost darkness. “I texted your work group chat and let them know you are sick. Your boss said to take all the time you need.” Of course she would. She was like an angel sent from heaven directly when it came to her employees.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, already half asleep again, the sickness taking over your body.

“Sleep, sweetheart. If you don’t feel better when you wake up, we´ll go see the doctor, okay?” You just nodded sleepily before closing your eyes fully, drifting off to a light sleep.

When you wake up again it was dark outside, which told you nothing because it was almost 24/7 dark in Toronto during the long winters.

The apartment was quiet, you noticed Felix was sleeping next to you like he was sent to protect you from anyone trying to enter the room while Auston was not here.

Your head felt significantly better, but a lingering pain was still in the back of your head. At least your stomach was back to normal because it was grumbling, like it was complaining about the lack of food throughout the day.

Getting up and walking down the stairs, with Felix in tow, was much easier than earlier in the day. A quick look to you phone told you that it was early evening. Auston should have gotten back home from practice hours ago. The faint voices coning from the living room an indication that he was in fact here.

When you entered, he was playing some video game you didn’t bother learning the name off. He had his headphones on and was probably talking to some of his teammates who were online with him.

Plopping down on the couch next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder got his attention away from the screen as he welcomed you with his signature smile. “Guys, I gotta go, see you tomorrow,” he immediately said, logging off a second after, giving you his full attention.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he laughed, brushing his thumb over your cheek in soft circles. You leaned into the touch, enjoying the moment before sitting back up again. “How are you feeling,” he questioned, a concerned frown on his face as he looked you over.

“Much better, for real this time,” you mumbled, tiredness still lingering in your body. “Are you sure?” he questioned. “Yes, I promise,” you replied, snuggling deeper into his side as he lifted his arm to make room for you.

A comfortable silence overtook the living room. The TV quietly playing whatever program was on before he turned the console on, Felix resting at your feet. Auston brushing soft patterns over your upper arm, not helping you staying awake.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you mumbled into his shoulder which earned you a kiss to the top of your head. “It´s kind of my job, isn’t it.” He laughed.

“I love you,” you muttered, already half asleep against him again. “Love you too, sweetheart. Rest up, I´ll make sure you have everything you need.” And with that you drifted off again, knowing he would make sure everything would be alright.

[sophsbookstore]

Cookies Included

Auston Matthews x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1500

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

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

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

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

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

[misshoneyimhome]

What's up buttercups 💕

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

Anyway, happy reading! 💋

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

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

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

➼｡ﾟ

Chapter fourteen - A queen can move wherever she likes*

::

“Dearest Toronto readers,

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

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

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

Meanwhile, back in the city…

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

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

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

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

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

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

_

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

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

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

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

But it hadn’t felt cold, either.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then a few minutes later your phone buzzed.

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

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

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

Jess: Damn giiirl… I need a full breakdown.

You: There will be diagrams.

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

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

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

Yet, you decided to play it cool.

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

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

You: Appreciate the buffer. Truly.

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

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

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

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like it was made for him.

And maybe it had been.

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

This was supposed to be easy.

Light and fake.

But it didn’t feel fake anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too… couple-y.

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

“Shit,” he muttered.

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

Mom.

He sighed and picked up. “Hey.”

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

“Wasn’t exactly planned—”

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

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

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

He ran a hand down his face. “Mamma”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was this serious?

Yeah.

Yeah, it was starting to feel that way.

And the worst part?

He didn’t hate it. Not even a little.

_

The office felt louder than usual.

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

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

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

You froze.

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

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

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

You blinked hard at your screen. Your emails blurred.

No. No way.

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

Apparently, someone had changed that.

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

You barely heard your phone buzz.

Jess [Voice Note, 0:58]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Auston: So, dinner again this week?

Just six words. Direct and simple. Classic him.

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

Instead, you typed:

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

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

But then, you left him on read.

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

You needed a beat to breathe.

Just one.

_

Wednesday -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: "Appreciate the strategic deflection."

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

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

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

The suite erupted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Leafs won 3–0.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I even be invited to that?”

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

“There’s a group chat?” you blinked.

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

You opened your mouth, still unsure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were still laughing when you suddenly saw his shadow.

Not Auston’s.

Ryan.

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

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

Jess’s message echoed in your head.

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

_

“Let’s talk about jerseys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when it shifted.

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

Because Auston had arrived.

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

“She said she’s not interested.”

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

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

Auston didn’t flinch. “She said no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was chaos.

“Get him out!” someone barked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, that moment felt far away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” you said.

That got his attention.

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

“Ryan was out of line. I should’ve—”

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

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

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

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

He was still watching you.

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

Auston swallowed. Hard.

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

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

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

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

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

And then he kissed you.

Not gently. Not cautiously.

Hungrily. Desperately.

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

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

You blinked, breath catching in your throat.

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

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t have to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath caught. “Auston—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t romantic.

It wasn’t careful.

But it was real. Messy. Breathless.

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

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

And then—

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

You froze like you’d been struck by lightning.

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

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

Silence.

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

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

“Sorry,” you whispered behind his palm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he did.

God, he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither am I.”

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

_

“Dearest Toronto reader,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let it fall.

Yours always.

The Benchwarmer”

[hockeybabe]

Don’t Chirp My Girl | M. Knies

Pairings: Matthew Knies x gf!reader

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

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

Word count: 879

Note: saw this and was like yes sir 🫡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[3416]

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

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

Leafs vs Devils | 01.16.25

[jackhues]

sixty five years - auston matthews

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

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

part of naqia's end of the year celly!

gif not mine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[m34tthews]

CHAPTER ONE

“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 — 7k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)

an — thank you for all the support so far! i had no idea what to expect when i posted the prologue no i am so grateful for everything!!

masterlist

“auston?”

he looked up, the sound of his name pulling his attention from the small poster on the wall—a chart about flea prevention, of all things. the voice hit him first: soft, a little unsure, but unmistakable. like memory folded into real time.

and then he saw her.

she stood in the doorway in navy scrubs, a badge clipped to her chest and a lanyard around her neck that had a faded keychain he swore he’d seen before—maybe hooked to her backpack senior year. her hair was pulled back, a few strands falling loose near her cheek. she looked older, yes, but not in the way that time ages you. more like she’d settled into herself. sharper around the edges. steadier.

he didn’t say anything at first. just stared. maybe a second too long.

she shifted her weight, like she wasn’t sure if this was weird or not. “i wasn’t expecting—i didn’t know felix was yours.”

“he’s… yeah. he’s mine,” he said, finally finding his voice. it came out lower than he meant it to.

she gave a small smile and stepped further into the room. “i’ve seen him in with your mom before. and breyana. he’s a good boy.”

felix thumped his tail against the exam table like he agreed.

auston’s gaze followed her as she moved to wash her hands. the scrub top fit a little loosely at her shoulders, sleeves rolled up neatly. there was a pen tucked behind her ear. none of it aligned with the version of her he still carried in his head—cutoff shorts, a soft laugh, that baseball cap she always wore backwards—but somehow, this made more sense. of course this was who she’d become.

“so,” she said gently, drying her hands. “what brings you in today?”

he blinked, realizing he’d been staring again. “just the usual. he’s due for his vaccines.”

“right,” she said, nodding. her tone was calm. practiced. like this was just another appointment. but when she looked at him again—really looked—there was something in her eyes. not surprise, exactly. more like quiet recognition. like she’d already made peace with this moment before it even happened.

he cleared his throat, glancing at felix. “he’s good with shots. doesn’t flinch much.”

she moved toward the table, reaching out to stroke felix’s head with a practiced touch. “then we’ll make this quick.”

her hands moved confidently, checking the file on the tablet, prepping the syringe. and still—he watched her. something about the way she moved. the way she spoke to the dog like he was hers. none of it felt awkward. ten years had passed, but they’d settled into this moment like it didn’t surprise either of them.

and maybe that was the strangest part.

he didn’t know what he’d expected. but it wasn’t this. not her in this room. not the way her name had come back to him the second she said his. not the quiet steadiness in his chest that felt dangerously close to relief.

she glanced up at him then—just a flicker—and something in his expression must’ve shifted, because she smiled again, a little softer this time.

“you okay?” she asked.

he nodded. “yeah. just didn’t think i’d see you again.”

“yeah,” she said, and this time it was quieter. not surprised. not sad. just honest. “me neither.”

and then she turned back to felix, her hands steady as ever, like time hadn’t just bent around them and opened something up they hadn’t thought to brace for.

she leaned down to scratch behind felix’s ears, her voice lowering slightly. “you ready for your shot, big guy?”

felix gave a tiny huff, his tail wagging once before settling again.

auston watched the way they interacted—her steady hands, her calm voice. he couldn’t help it.

“he likes you,” he said quietly, almost without thinking.

she glanced up with a small, knowing smile. “i’m pretty likable.”

he chuckled, heat rising faintly to his neck. “yeah. i can see that.”

her mouth tugged into a smirk as she turned her attention back to prepping the vaccine. “you always this charming, or is that a post-nhl glow-up thing?”

“might be the jet lag,” he said with a grin. “or maybe it’s you.”

she gave him a look, skeptical but not exactly dismissive. “uh-huh.”

he leaned back slightly in his chair, observing her with a quiet kind of awe. the way her hands moved with intention. the soft curve of her mouth. the steadiness in her eyes. there was no trace of pretense in the way she carried herself—it disarmed him more than he expected.

“you look good,” he said finally, his voice a touch softer than before. more honest.

she looked at him, a little surprised. then smiled slowly. “so do you. you’ve got that… hockey guy thing going on.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he grinned, feigning offense.

“you know,” she teased. “the beard, the whole intense-sports-guy vibe. i read something once about how you’re all superstitious about shaving during playoffs.”

“not me,” he said, rubbing at his jaw. “my mom likes the beard. says it makes me look more mexican.”

her smile deepened, and this time it felt more real—more her. “well… it’s working for you, matthews.”

his chest twisted at the way she said his name. casually, like it still belonged to her a little.

there was a beat of silence as she gave felix the vaccine—he barely flinched—and she jotted something down on the chart. the room was quiet except for the low hum of fluorescent lights.

“i didn’t think i’d ever see you again,” he said, voice low.

she didn’t look up right away. but when she did, her eyes met his, calm and clear. “yeah,” she said softly. “me neither.”

he wasn’t sure why that hit the way it did. maybe it was just the way she said it—without bitterness, without expectation. just truth.

and when she handed him the visit summary, her handwriting neat and careful in the corner, it felt like something had shifted. small. barely noticeable. but there.

the condo smelled like vanilla and old wine—comforting in a way that marked the end of a long day and the beginning of an even longer evening curled into the couch. y/n kicked off her shoes by the door and dropped her bag by the island, already hearing the sound of the tv from the living room. the unmistakable chaos of love island echoed down the hallway.

“naomi?” she called out, slipping out of her scrub top and into the oversized hoodie she left on the back of a kitchen chair.

“living room, babe,” her best friend replied lazily. “i already poured the wine.”

y/n smiled to herself and padded into the room, sock-clad feet silent on the hardwood floor. naomi was wrapped in their shared fleece blanket, glass of red in hand, her expression scandalized by whatever was unfolding on-screen.

y/n sank down beside her, letting out a dramatic sigh. “god. i forgot how draining mondays are.”

“and yet you save animals anyway. i’d rather die,” naomi muttered, passing her a glass. “drink. the twins just kissed the same guy and now everyone’s mad.”

y/n laughed softly, eyes flicking to the screen but not registering much. her thoughts were still miles away—more specifically, back at the clinic. back to a pair of dark eyes and a tattoo sleeve she could still picture in shocking clarity.

naomi nudged her. “okay. what’s on your mind?”

y/n hesitated, swirling the wine in her glass.

“don’t say nothing,” naomi warned. “your face is screaming something. spill.”

y/n bit her lip, her voice casual in that completely-unconvincing way. “guess who i saw today.”

“that depends. are we talking ex, nemesis, or celebrity encounter?”

“none of the above. kind of,” she hedged. “auston matthews.”

naomi blinked. “from high school?”

y/n nodded.

“i thought he was in canada playing, like… whatever they play up there. hockey?”

“he still is,” y/n said, sipping her wine. “but he’s home for the off-season, i guess. he brought in his dog for shots.”

naomi sat up straighter, eyebrows raising. “wait. wait. auston matthews—the guy you randomly got super close with senior year? the same auston i thought you were gonna dump trent for?”

“okay,” y/n groaned. “let’s not start rewriting history.”

“oh please. i lived through history. i saw the way you used to look at him in biology. all soft and googly-eyed.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “we were just friends. barely. we didn’t talk after graduation.”

“but you crushed on him hard,” naomi reminded, smirking. “so what was it like? seeing him again?”

y/n slumped deeper into the couch, glass tilting in her hand. “weird. surreal. he looked… good.”

“how good?” naomi leaned in, eyes gleaming.

“like, way better than anyone should after ten years,” y/n muttered, shaking her head. “he’s got this beard, this… tattoo sleeve—”

“stop,” naomi gasped. “a sleeve?!”

y/n covered her face with one hand. “i swear, i practically drooled. and he’s still got that smile. like, that smile, you know?”

naomi, clearly delighted, grabbed her phone. “hang on. i’m googling him. i need to see this transformation.”

y/n watched as her best friend’s eyes widened, fingers scrolling rapidly.

“oh my god. this man is… jesus. you’re telling me this brought in felix for a shot today?”

“he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt,” y/n added, and naomi groaned.

“no. not the casual hotness.”

“he quads were huge. i had to try my best to not look” she motioned her hands apart to indicate the size.

naomi clutched her chest. “you’re killing me.”

y/n laughed, but there was something wistful about the way her smile faded. “i didn’t even ask if he’s staying. he might be gone already.”

naomi tilted her head. “so what? find out.”

“how?”

“get his number from the file.”

y/n gave her a look. “you know i’m not doing that.”

“oh, come on. you’re telling me the guy you crushed on all senior year shows up out of nowhere after ten years and you’re just gonna… let that go?”

“it was just a coincidence,” y/n shrugged. “he probably doesn’t even remember much about me.”

“you’re being modest. he brought his dog to your clinic. that’s fate.”

“he didn’t know it was me until i walked in the room,” she replied, but her voice had softened, like she wasn’t quite sure she believed her own point.

naomi poked her thigh with a painted nail. “y/n. seriously. you haven’t talked about a guy like this in years. you’re always too busy saving the world, and now the universe drops a six-foot-something hockey player with tattoos and a beard into your office? wake up.”

y/n laughed under her breath. “you literally just said he looked like fine as hell. maybe it was a sign.”

y/n rolled her eyes and stood to pour more wine. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you love it,” naomi called out.

and she did. she loved how easy it was to laugh about it, even as her mind betrayed her—rewinding to the way auston had looked at her, the quiet way he’d said i didn’t think i’d see you again. how he’d told her she looked good like it was a secret he’d waited ten years to say.

she brought the glass back to the couch and curled up again, barely listening to the tv.

even with the wine, even with naomi’s jokes and her old hoodie and the comfort of familiarity—she still couldn’t get him off her mind.

the sound of the club smacking the grass was so offensively off-target, even the desert birds stopped chirping for a second.

“jesus,” auston muttered, watching his ball veer violently into a cactus. “was that a divot or a crater?”

bry, standing behind him with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, didn’t even flinch. “are you trying to break the ground or the game of golf itself?”

he turned, wiping his palm on his shorts. “in my defense, hockey players don’t really swing like this.”

“you played baseball till senior year, auston.”

“yeah, well,” he shrugged, grabbing another ball. “short-term memory loss from all the hits. tragic.”

she snorted, adjusting her visor and taking a sip from her iced coffee. she was calm, precise, and almost frustratingly good—somehow still annoyingly competitive after her but very real d1 golf career. auston couldn’t tell if she was trying to relax or just dunk on him. maybe both.

felix, panting under the shade of their cart with his portable fan clipped to the side, let out a soft snore. living proof that not all of them were suffering.

they continued hole after hole, with auston getting progressively worse and bry’s commentary sharper. but somewhere around the eighth, while she teed up with military-level focus, he let himself think of her again.

y/n.

scrubs, lanyard, the calm cadence in her voice when she greeted him.

ten years, and she still had him off balance. he hadn’t expected that. hadn’t expected her at all. and he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since. the way she smiled, a little more confident now. the way she looked at him and didn’t flinch like most people did when they realized who he was. and that damn sleeve of tattoos she called out like it was a casual comment and not a punch to the gut.

“you got quiet,” bry said, after absolutely drilling her drive down the fairway. “that last swing broke your brain?”

“just thinking.”

she smirked. “dangerous.”

he tapped the head of his club against his shoe, then glanced at her. “you know y/n, right? from the neighborhood.”

“uh… yeah. everyone knows y/n. her parents still show up to dad’s cookouts like clockwork. her mom brought her famous macaroni last summer.”

“really?” he blinked, surprised.

“yes, really. i mean, you’d know too if you ever showed up to anything,” she gave him a pointed look. “but yeah. she stuck around. did school out here. she’s, like… killing it.”

he nodded slowly, then added after a beat, “i didn’t know she’d stayed.”

bry gave him a sidelong glance as they walked back to the cart. “why are you asking about her?”

“just curious.”

“no, no, see,” she leaned against the cart and grinned, “this is the look you get when you’re not just curious. this is the ‘i just saw someone who messed me up so bad i forgot what sport i play’ face.”

auston rolled his eyes. “i didn’t forget what sport i play.”

“then stop asking if you can slapshot on the green.”

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just—she was nice. it was good seeing someone from back then.”

“you were friends senior year, right?”

“kinda. more toward the end,” he admitted. “it was just… easy. with her.”

bry gave him a long, knowing look. “and now you want to see her again.”

he didn’t say anything. didn’t have to.

they finished the round with minimal disasters—mostly on his end—and by the time they were back home, the heat had him wiping sweat off his brow and kicking off his shoes by the front door.

the house had quieted down after dinner. the usual chaos of being home—his dad with the TV too loud, his mom asking him to reach something on top of the pantry, bry dropping in unannounced with felix and taking over the couch—had finally settled into that familiar stillness that only crept in after everyone had spread out.

auston was slumped on the couch, one arm behind his head, the other draped lazily across his torso. his phone rested on his chest, screen dark. the ceiling above him hadn’t changed in the last ten years, and neither had the sound of the fan spinning overhead, but he wasn’t thinking about any of that.

he was thinking about her.

doctor y/n l/n.

well, not doctor in the stethoscope-and-white-coat sense. no—vet, as she gently corrected.

and somehow that only made it worse. or better. depending how his brain was spinning it.

he could still see her in those navy scrubs, sleeves rolled just enough to show the subtle curve of her forearms. her name stitched neatly above her heart. her voice a touch more confident than the girl he remembered, but still the same softness.

still y/n.

he hadn’t seen her in ten years. not since that party at the end of senior year—the one where they’d sat outside on the back steps talking about college and what they thought growing up would look like. she had no idea then, but that night stuck with him longer than it should have. the way she laughed. the glint of something unspoken in her eyes when she said, you’re gonna be something big, matthews. just don’t forget us small-town folks.

he hadn’t forgotten. especially not her.

and today—fuck.

she’d looked good. like really good. he didn’t know if it was the scrubs or the ponytail or the way she smiled down at felix, but he’d walked into that appointment thinking about rabies shots and walked out wondering if he should’ve stayed longer. said more.

smooth, matthews, he told himself. ten years later and you’re still acting like a dumbass around her.

he turned onto his side, brow furrowed. felix was curled on the floor by his bed, ears twitching in his sleep.

and then—like fate or luck or just a really weak excuse—the memory came back to him, clear as day.

“if he develops a fever or any signs of fatigue, bring him in. nothing serious, but just keep an eye on him the next 48 hours.”

he sat up slightly.

was felix a little warm earlier? maybe. didn’t he nap longer than usual after dinner? didn’t he whine a bit when auston got up for water?

he looked down at the dog, who shifted slightly in his sleep but didn’t move.

“you good, buddy?” auston whispered.

felix snored in response.

auston smirked. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

still, he reached for his phone and opened the clinic’s hours. they were open in the morning.

and maybe—just maybe—he’d swing by.

just to check.

for felix, of course.

nothing to do with the fact that she said it’s working for you, matthews while looking at his beard like she wanted to touch it.

nothing to do with the fact that her voice had gone soft when she said i should’ve known felix was yours like she already knew more than he remembered telling her.

nothing at all.

except that maybe he wasn’t done seeing her.

maybe, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to be.

felix was fine.

no, really. completely fine.

it’s been an entire day since he received his shots and he’s exactly how any dog would be at his age. tail wagging. nose wet. energy fully intact. if anything, he was thriving—currently sprinting around the backyard like he’d just discovered he had four legs again.

but auston, stretched out on the couch with a cold drink on his chest and his phone in hand, had other ideas.

“you okay, bud?” he called half-heartedly, not even lifting his head. “you seem… lethargic.”

felix zoomed past the room doors in a blur of fur, paused only to bark at a squirrel, then took off again like his tail was on fire.

auston sat up. “yeah. definitely not himself.”

bry walked in from the kitchen just in time to catch him squinting dramatically at felix through the glass.

“what are you doing?”

“observing symptoms.”

“symptoms?”

he pointed toward the backyard. “he’s not… you know. perky.”

bet peered outside, watching felix do what could only be described as a flying leap onto a lawn chair. “you’re unbelievable.”

“no, i’m a responsible dog owner. y/n said if he gets tired or shows any signs of fatigue after the shots, i should bring him in.”

“and you’re seeing signs of that… where?”

auston stood, already grabbing his keys. “he just looked at me funny. it was like… a slow blink. very off-brand.”

bry stared. “you’re fake sicking your dog to see a girl.”

“i’m not fake sicking him,” he said, affronted. “i’m just… being proactive.”

she crossed her arms, amused. “you’ve reached a new level of down bad.”

“i’m just following medical advice,” he argued, slapping his cap onto his head. “and if that medical advice happens to come from someone i haven’t stopped thinking about since yesterday, that’s purely coincidental.”

felix trotted inside at that exact moment, tongue out, absolutely glowing with vitality.

“you ready, buddy?” auston asked him, scratching behind his ears. “gotta get you checked out.”

bry snorted. “he looks like he just ran a marathon and won. you’re deranged.”

“i’m a concerned father,” auston corrected, holding the door open for felix. “you wouldn’t get it.”

she followed him toward the garage, watching him load a very confused dog into the backseat of his car.

“tell her he has a cough too. really sell it.”

he flipped her off with a grin, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“you’re not slick, you know,” she called as he started the car.

“didn’t say i was. just charming,” he grinned, throwing the car into reverse. “see you later.”

as the tires rolled down the driveway, bry shook her head and pulled out her phone.

bry to mi familia

your son is faking our dog’s death to flirt. please prepare intervention.

meanwhile, auston glanced at felix in the mirror, who looked as puzzled as a dog could be.

“you’re fine,” auston muttered. “but i’m not. let’s go see the nice doctor lady again.”

she was elbow-deep in a crate of new syringes when the front desk called out, “hey, doctor l/n—your buddy’s back.”

she blinked, peeking out from the supply closet. “what buddy?”

“the cowboy-hater’s son,” bridget called with a grin. “felix. the tank.”

y/n’s brows lifted. she hadn’t expected to see the bernedoodle again so soon. especially not after yesterday. her heart stuttered, a nervous flutter running up her spine like a match being lit. there was no real reason for it—okay, maybe there was, and maybe he had a beard and tattoos and broad shoulders and an unfair face—but still.

“they’re in exam two,” bridget added with a wink. “try to keep your drooling to a minimum.”

y/n made a face at her before slipping her stethoscope around her neck and grabbing the chart.

felix’s name. auston matthews’ messy handwriting. her fingers hesitated over the paper before she sighed and pushed the door open.

“hi, i’m dr. l/n—” she started on autopilot, but her voice faltered when she stepped in and saw him.

his back was to her again—gray hat pulled low, tattooed arm resting on the table beside felix—but the second he turned around, she felt the air shift.

that stupid beard. the lashes. the eyes that always held a bit too much heat.

“hey,” he said with that slight smile that already made her nervous system stutter. “still here?”

y/n tried not to smile, but her lips betrayed her. “yep. still here.”

felix let out a happy bark from the table, tongue lolling, tail thumping against the stainless steel like he was having the time of his life. which was the first red flag.

she turned back to the chart. “everything okay? i wasn’t expecting to see him again so soon.”

auston scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “yeah, uh… you said to come back if he looked tired.”

“and is he?”

he glanced at the dog—who was now trying to climb into her arms—and then back at her. “he blinked weird.”

y/n squinted at him. “he blinked weird.”

“like… slow,” he said, voice less convincing than yesterday’s weather forecast. “and his tail didn’t wag for a whole minute.”

“uh-huh.”

felix leaned his full weight into her hand, panting like he’d just run laps and couldn’t be happier. no fever. no signs of fatigue. bright eyes, clean gums, full of mischief.

“auston…” she started gently, biting the inside of her cheek.

“okay, fine,” he groaned, throwing his hands up. “he’s totally fine. i just—”

y/n tilted her head, amused but curious. “you just…?”

he rubbed the back of his neck again, hat shifting up to reveal a little more of his too-long hair. “i wanted to see you again.”

the words hit her square in the chest. not in a heavy way. more like… a spark. a little bright flash of something old and new all at once.

“it’s good to see a familiar face,” he added, eyes meeting hers, a little softer this time. “it’s been a weird few days, and… i don’t know. you were always easy to talk to.”

her mouth parted slightly, heart thudding. “it’s been, like, ten years.”

“yeah, and that makes it worse,” he laughed under his breath. “you look… good. you’re doing good.”

“thanks.” her voice came out quieter than she meant. “so do you. not just the beard and the… tattoos. i mean—just… you.”

he smirked. “so you noticed the tattoos.”

she cleared her throat, cheeks burning. “they’re hard to miss.”

he nodded toward felix, who was now fully lounging like a king. “well. now that we’ve both established that my dog is in peak health and i’m a terrible liar, would you maybe want to get coffee sometime?”

her brows raised. not expecting her day at work to pan out like this. however, not complaining either.

“just to catch up,” he said quickly. “no pressure. unless coffee’s too basic, in which case i can pivot to smoothies or, like… tacos.”

she laughed—actually laughed. “coffee’s fine.”

“really?”

“yeah.” she looked up at him as she gently lifted felix from the table. “as long as you promise to stop faking your dog’s illnesses just to flirt.”

“deal,” he said, grinning. “but i’m not promising anything if he sneezes next week.”

she rolled her eyes, but the smile wouldn’t leave her face as he lingered by the door, hands stuffed in his pockets like he didn’t want to leave yet.

“i’ll text you,” he said.

“i didn’t give you my number.”

he paused, then pointed at the chart. “file.”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. “that’s—completely unethical.”

he smirked as he stepped out. “guess you’ll have to give it to me properly, then.”

and just like that, he was gone—leaving behind a very healthy dog and a very flustered vet with an embarrassingly giddy grin.

he was early. which was insane because auston matthews was never early. not for meetings, not for practices, and definitely not for dates—well, not that this was a date. technically. unless…

he checked his phone again. the little coffee shop she’d suggested was one of those cozy spots with twinkle lights strung across the ceiling and indie music humming low in the background. it was warm. quiet. a bit too romantic for just catching up, if he were being honest. but he wasn’t complaining.

he tapped his fingers against the table. felix was at home, probably being spoiled by bry who gave him table scraps when she thought auston wasn’t looking. and still, he felt restless.

he was just about to reread the text she sent—“running a few mins late!! blame traffic. or my inability to function like a human today 😭”—when the bell above the door jingled.

and there she was.

scrubs swapped for a buttoned cardigan and jeans, curls tied up, lips pink from the cold, her cheeks flushed like she’d run to get there.

“sorry,” she breathed as she approached, “i swear i left early—”

“you’re fine,” he said quickly, already smiling. “you made it. that’s what matters.”

her mouth curved as she sat across from him, eyes scanning the menu like she hadn’t already memorized it. “how long were you waiting?”

“not long,” he lied easily. “plus, i’m a fan of anticipation.”

“oh god,” she snorted, “that sounded like something straight out of the bachelor.”

he laughed. “maybe i’m secretly auditioning. gotta give you some competition.”

she rolled her eyes but he caught the smile tugging at her mouth. the barista came by, and she ordered an iced coffee—extra sweet, extra cream, no hesitation.

auston blinked. “you do know you just ordered melted ice cream, right?”

“oh, i’m sorry,” she deadpanned. “did my happiness offend you?”

“a little,” he teased. “there’s like… a full cup of syrup in that.”

“and you drink black coffee, don’t you?”

“like a man,” he grinned.

she gave him a dramatic once-over. “you play a sport where grown men lose teeth and still whine about bruises.”

he held his hands up. “okay. fair. but i don’t whine.”

“sure.”

their drinks arrived, and for a moment they sipped in silence—comfortable, like it was normal to be back across from each other after a decade apart.

he tilted his head. “so… anyone I should be worried about?”

she raised a brow. “worried?”

“yeah. like… if someone’s gonna hunt me down for stealing your time. maybe trent?”

her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. “trent? no. god, no. we broke up right after graduation.”

auston’s brows lifted. “for real?”

“yep. it was overdue. he was… well, he tried, but—” she shrugged, sipping her coffee. “just wasn’t it.”

auston nodded slowly, his mind flicking through senior year like a well-worn film reel. trent had always been hot and cold with her. there wasn’t any cheating, sure—but the flakiness, the half-assed effort, the way he almost didn’t take her to prom…

he remembered wondering if trent even would. remembered wishing she wouldn’t go back to him. and then one week before prom, there they were again—back together, like always.

and auston? he took ashley. the girl he’d talked to all of two weeks. who dumped him by the end of the night.

he cleared his throat. “well… guess that makes this our official first date, huh?”

her eyes snapped to his, surprised and amused. “excuse me?”

“what?” he said, grin lazy, voice low. “we’re catching up, we’re caffeinated, no fake symptoms or exam tables between us…”

“you’re calling this a date?”

“why not?” he leaned in slightly. “you look good. you’re funny. i’ve been thinking about you all week.”

she faltered, cheeks flushing.

“and i’ve technically already met your dog,” he added. “that’s more than most guys can say on a first date.”

“you faked his illness.”

“semantics.”

she laughed, shaking her head as she stirred her drink with the straw. “you’re impossible.”

“you missed this,” he teased.

“what?”

“me. my charm. my ability to be slightly annoying but also irresistible.”

she tried to suppress her smile. failed.

he leaned back, watching her across the table. “seriously though. i’m glad you came.”

she looked up at him, the playfulness softening into something warmer. “me too.”

“this is our first date,” he said again, watching the way she smiled at her cup like she was trying not to grin too hard.

“you’re very confident about that,” she teased, swirling her straw.

“well, i’d be an idiot not to try.”

he said it easily, but there was something sincere beneath the charm—something quieter that settled between them.

she didn’t reply right away, just sipped her overly sweet drink while watching him over the rim of her cup. “it’s kind of a bold move,” she finally said. “making the first one a fake vet emergency.”

“a necessary move,” he countered, eyes glinting. “felix was happy to play his part.”

“felix was not playing a part. that dog is incapable of lying. he was practically glowing.”

auston laughed. “okay, yeah, he was in a great mood. little traitor. didn’t even fake a limp or anything.”

“you gave him a look,” she said, eyes widening in mock scandal. “a real look. like you were trying to telepathically guilt him into pretending to be sick.”

“and it didn’t work,” he sighed, dramatically slumping in his chair. “i’ve lost my touch.”

she smiled again. it was easy with him. familiar. the years between them felt less like distance and more like timing—like the universe had just pressed pause and now was quietly pressing play.

he noticed the way her fingers curled around her cup, the way her eyes crinkled when she was amused. she noticed how his hat was tilted back now, how his beard framed his smile, how his arms looked way too good folded over his chest as he leaned in and asked, “so been going on with you?”

and she told him.

about how she stayed. how she didn’t plan on staying in arizona forever but ended up building a life here—slow, quiet, and completely hers.

he listened. really listened.

no phone, no fidgeting. just him, locked in, nodding, asking questions. not just about vet school or her work—but about her. what made her laugh. what made her stay. what made her happy now.

and she asked too.

about canada. about the pressure. about the days where hockey consumed him whole and the nights where it was hard to remember what life looked like off the ice.

they talked like that for what felt like hours. soft, spiraling conversation that kept finding its way back to shared memories. the time they’d both skipped that one pep rally senior year and somehow ended up at sonic for two hours talking about their favorite childhood pets. the house party where he found her in the kitchen, hiding from trent, and they ended up making pancakes at midnight. how they never really dated, but were something that could’ve been—if things were different.

the light outside dimmed.

they didn’t move.

“so,” she said eventually, checking the time on her phone but not putting it away, “this was supposed to be coffee, but it’s been… three hours?”

“is that a complaint?” he asked, tilting his head.

“no,” she said quickly, too quickly. “just… didn’t expect it.”

he leaned in. “i didn’t either.”

she looked at him, then, really looked. “you’re different.”

“you’re the same,” he replied, and then softened, “in the best way.”

she smiled, eyes dropping to her cup, now full of melted ice.

“we should probably go.”

“probably,” he agreed.

but neither of them moved.

“wanna walk a bit?” he asked. “just… stretch this out?”

she looked back at him. “thought you’d never ask.”

so they walked. slow, easy strides down the quiet sidewalk outside the café. his hands in his pockets, hers wrapped around her cup like it might give her an excuse not to hold his. they passed bookstores and boutiques, laughing about which places used to be what ten years ago. and with every step, it felt less like catching up and more like finding something that had been left behind and surprisingly still fit.

at one point, she glanced over and said, “you might have been on to something about this being a real date”

“it feels like a real date,” he corrected. “finally.”

and this time, when she smiled, she didn’t look away.

and this time, he didn’t either.

they paused outside the coffee shop, the golden wash of late afternoon spilling between them, soft and warm like everything that had passed between them in the last few hours.

“i live just a few blocks over,” she said casually, clutching the strap of her bag with one hand and her nearly empty iced coffee in the other. “i’ll just walk from here.”

auston blinked. “wait—you’re walking?”

she nodded, amused by the surprise in his voice. “yeah. i do it all the time. it’s safe, and it’s a nice evening.”

“then i’m walking with you,” he said, already shifting his weight like he’d made the decision for both of them.

she gave him a look, one of those slightly teasing ones he remembered from senior year—the ones that made him lean in closer just to see it again.

“you don’t have to do that,” she said, but it was soft. not reluctant.

“i know.” he grinned. “but i’m going to anyway.”

so they started walking. the sun dipping just low enough to cast the buildings in long, honey-colored shadows. it was quiet except for their shoes on the pavement and the easy rhythm they’d fallen into. again.

he glanced at her more than once. always when he thought she wasn’t looking.

she glanced at him too. always when she thought he wasn’t looking.

but they caught each other. and each time, they smiled.

“so you admit it was a date,” he teased, bumping her shoulder gently with his.

she bumped back. “i’m still deciding.”

he pretended to be offended, hand on his chest. “that’s cold.”

“you’ll survive, matthews.”

the banter faded into a quiet, content silence. they turned a corner and passed a little park she said she walked through when she couldn’t sleep, and he made a mental note of it like it was something important. like maybe he’d find himself walking through it one night too, just to feel close to her.

“i always forget how peaceful it can be here,” he said after a moment.

“you’ve been gone a while,” she replied, her voice softer now.

“yeah,” he nodded. “missed a lot.”

she looked at him then, eyes meeting his, something deeper and slower swirling in her chest.

“you’re here now,” she said.

and god, he didn’t know what to say to that, not really. so he just smiled, and it was enough.

they reached her building. a condominium towered between a yoga studio and an old bookstore. he stopped at the foot of the steps while she turned to him.

“this is me.”

“i figured,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “kind of wish it wasn’t.”

her lips curved. “why? you miss felix already?”

“i might,” he said, leaning slightly closer, “but he’s not the one i wanted to see again.”

that caught her. flushed her cheeks and tugged her mouth into a smile she tried to fight.

“you’re really laying it on now, huh?”

“what can i say?” he murmured. “first dates bring it out of me.”

“you sure this was our first one?”

he tilted his head. “unless you’re counting prom night—”

“absolutely not,” she cut in, laughing. “you didn’t even go with me.”

he feigned offense. “not by choice!”

“you still went with someone else.”

“and thought about you the whole time,” he said, quiet now. honest.

that silenced her.

she blinked, opened her mouth, closed it again, and then finally whispered, “you didn’t know me that well back then.”

“i wanted to,” he replied. “i still do.”

it lingered in the air between them. charged. fragile. real.

she looked down at her hands, then back up at him.

“thank you… for walking me home.”

“anytime,” he said. and he meant it.

she stepped back, up onto the first step, suddenly a little taller than him with the angle. “goodnight, auston.”

he smiled. “goodnight, doc.”

and as she disappeared into the building, he stood there for a moment longer than he probably should have.

just to make sure she made it inside.

just to memorize the way she looked walking away.

just to stretch it out… a little longer.

she didn’t even realize she was smiling until she was halfway down the hall.

her keys jingled softly in her hand, phone buzzing in her pocket as she unlocked the door to their condo. naomi was still on the couch, now halfway through an episode of love island, wine glass perched dangerously close to the edge of the coffee table.

“look who finally made it back,” naomi grinned, not even looking away from the screen. “was about to send out a search party.”

y/n rolled her eyes and kicked her shoes off. “you’re so dramatic.”

“you were gone for hours. i thought it was just a coffee.”

“it was,” y/n said, voice airy. “just… a really long one.”

she slipped her phone out of her pocket, screen lighting up with a message from a number already saved in her contacts

auston: got in safe?

she blinked. she hadn’t saved his number. he must’ve done it himself when he borrowed her phone earlier to show her the picture of felix wearing sunglasses in his car seat.

cocky but gets flustered easily. quietly charming. exactly him.

her thumb hovered over the keyboard, then decided against texting back right away. instead, she walked past naomi and pushed open the sliding door to the balcony, the evening still warm against her skin. their condo overlooked a quiet street, the soft sound of tires and the occasional bark of a dog rising up from below.

and there he was.

auston.

standing at the curb across the street, framed by the orange wash of a streetlamp, looking up like he knew.

she smiled — couldn’t help it — and lifted her hand in a wave, biting her lip when his face broke into a grin. he waved back, slow and easy, and then her phone buzzed again.

auston: goodnight, y/n.

she looked down, heart skipping, then looked back up.

he was still there.

naomi’s voice cut through the quiet, faint behind her. “who are you texting with that dumb smile on your face?”

“no one,” y/n called back, but her voice gave her away.

she heard the rustle of movement, and a second later naomi was behind her, wine glass in hand, leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous grin.

“oh my god, is that him?” she whispered, eyes widening as she peeked over y/n’s shoulder.

y/n nodded slowly, watching as auston finally turned and started walking away, his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed like he was floating.

naomi let out a low whistle. “so when were you planning on telling me you were the main character in a romcom now?”

y/n shook her head, cheeks flushed. “it’s not like that.”

naomi raised a brow. “uh-huh. just coffee, huh?”

“just coffee.”

naomi grinned. “right. and now he’s standing outside your building like it’s not the end of a hallmark movie. please.”

y/n looked back at her phone, rereading his message one more time before locking the screen.

“okay,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “maybe it’s a little like that.”

naomi’s smirk was triumphant. “babe… you’re so in trouble.”

and y/n couldn’t even argue with her.

because her heart was still racing.

and her smile was still lingering.

and god help her — she didn’t want it to stop.

next

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[paladin--strait]

skills showcase - auston matthews

reader gets invited to go with auston to the nhl all star skills showcase with some other wags to show off their own skills. how does it end?

-

i walk into the locker room, skates in hand and a few of the wags by my side. i think we're all a little nervous for the upcoming showcase but i think it'll be a fun, once in a lifetime opportunity.

when i got the message a few weeks ago asking if i'd be willing to be a part of it, i almost told them no. if auston hadn't have talked me into it, i'd be sitting in my seat on the front row, watching my fiancé show off his own talents alongside more nhl stars.

i tie up my skates, tucking in the extra lace string and putting the bottom of my pants over it. i stand, a little wobbly since auston had just started teaching me how to skate the week before last and i'm still not very good at it. i slowly make my way to the hallway, waiting for my turn to go onto the ice when the announcer calls my name and introduces me.

once i hear them say my name, i carefully make my way out onto the ice, stick in hand, and over to auston, he grabs my hands once i make it to him to help me stop. "nice jersey." he laughs, pointing at his blue jersey that i stole from him to wear tonight.

"thanks, it's my fiancés." i joke and laugh, moving to stand beside him.

be laughs at my little joke, but then he gets serious. "where's your helmet?" he asks, frowning.

"they didn't give us one." i shrug, looking up at him.

"i gave you one to wear?" he laughs awkwardly. wondering where my helmet is.

"they told us we didn't need it..." i shrug again, pointing to some of the coordinators that are now on the bench.

"absolutely not. my top priority with you being out here is that you're safe." he says sternly, "you're wearing mine." he unclips his helmet, taking it off and plopping it on my head. he clips the strap together and adjusts it, making sure it's secure and comfortable.

"auston...now i'm the only one out here wearing a helmet..." i pout, crossing my arms and looking down at the ice.

"it'll be alright. i know it's probably embarrassing to you, but if you fall over like you were doing yesterday you'll be grateful." he laughs, tapping the top of the helmet.

i laugh, looking up to see the first wife skating up for the shooting portion of the short showcase. there's only five wags here so it shouldn't last long. she shoots and isn't able to make it past jeremy swayman, who offered to goaltend the shooting portion. he high fives her and she skates off to the speed portion.

she makes it past pretty easily, shooting one last goal and missing it too. the next woman goes and preforms about the same, but this time she made the second goal. after decent performances by all the women, it's my turn. i grip my stick that auston bought me, and skate up to the line.

i start at center ice, bringing the puck down until i get at a good distance and angle to shoot. i make my shot, smiling as i continue skating so i can try and get the fastest time. i trip up a little when going around the cones, but i quickly recover and speed up going back down the ice for my second shot. i shoot, aiming the puck for the top left corner, and make it.

i smile and throw my hands up in the air, skating back to auston who's skating towards me with a huge smile on his face. he picks me up, twirling me around and then setting me back down.

they calculate the scores, and soon determine that i won the little showcase. i smile wide as i skate over to pk subban, who was doing some interviews on the ice. he asks me a few questions about myself and then he says, "where'd you get the helmet from? seems like you're the only one who wanted to wear one." he laughs, holding the microphone up to me.

i lean in a little, "well, they told us we didn't need a helmet, but auston insisted that i wear his because he wants me to be safe. i fall a lot and i just learned to skate week before last so..." i laugh, adjusting my helmet.

pk laughs, saying a few more things before a quick goodbye. i skate over to auston and take off the helmet, handing it back to him. "here, baby.." he takes the helmet from me and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"you did really well, sweetheart." he says with a smile.

"thank you," i say, fiddling with the hem of the dark blue jersey i was wearing. "i only did well because you taught me how to play..."

"you did well because you were willing to learn. i'm not surprised you skated and shot that well. but damn, you did amazing out there. it's like you're a natural on the ice." he smiles, looking at me.

they soon tell announce that the wags are done in the ice and we can take our leave.

i begin making my way towards the exit off the ice before auston grabs my arm, "my love, if you want you can sit on the bench beside me and watch." he says with a smile.

"will i be in anyone's way over there?" i ask, furrowing my brows.

"you shouldn't be. if they tell you to go, just let me know and i'll take care of it." he says, pulling me along with him and guiding me to the little bench that they set up on the ice for the players.

i sit in between him and sidney crosby, my heart racing. i look over at auston with an excited expression on my face. "auston...i'm sitting beside sidney crosby..." i whisper, smiling with excitement.

he nods and pats my head, "you can talk to him if you want. he doesn't bite." auston laughs.

i shake my head immediately, my eyes going wide. "no! i'll probably embarrass myself." i whisper. "and how do you know he doesn't bite?"

auston laughs a little louder and pulls me close, my body pressed against his side. he taps sidney on the shoulder, beginning to casually talk with him. i watch the other players on the ice take their turn showing off their skills, but the mention of my name makes me turn to look at auston in confusion.

he points to sidney, who's looking at me with a smile and an extended hand. i slowly reach out and shake his hand, listening as he introduces himself to me. sidney and i talk for a bit before it's his turn to go next in the current competition.

i look back up at auston and smile, "i told you he doesn't bite." he says with a laugh, "i'm next. you gonna be okay?" his expression turns a little more serious.

i nod with a smile, "yeah, i'll be okay. how much is left after this competition?"

he thinks for a second before he answers, "not much. maybe twenty minutes?" he says, watching as sidney finishes his turn and makes his way back to his seat beside me before he stands to get ready for his upcoming turn. i wish him luck and watch as he skates off.

-

after the showcase ends, auston drives me to the luxurious hotel and drops me off so i can sleep while he goes to hang out with his friends. i shut the hotel room door and kick off my shoes, cutting on a few of the smaller lights around the room instead of the big, overhead light.

i brush my teeth after i change out of my clothes, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing with mouthwash. i wash my face and take off the little bit of makeup i had on. i walk back into the room, cutting off all the lights except for the one by the door so auston can see when he comes back to the room.

i turn on the tv and go to youtube, pulling up a video with soft, ambient music and a calming background to help me sleep. i get comfortable under the bed and pick up my phone. i click on my tracking app i have with auston and see that he's still out with the guys, his little icon signaling that he's in a building. i text him goodnight and shut off my phone, plugging it in.

i snuggle into the covers, closing my eyes. my efforts to fall asleep in vain, the cold mattress and quiet atmosphere that's usually filled with auston's snoring now making me almost uncomfortable. i can normally handle him being away, but something about this night is different. i sigh, sitting up in the bed and walking over to his suitcase. i grab the shirt he wore yesterday off the chair, slipping of my sleep shirt and putting on his shirt.

the smell of his cologne, hair products, and even a faint scent of his deodorant comforts me slightly as i make my way back to the bed, sliding in on his side. i pull his pillow close and close my eyes. the feeling of sleep soon overtakes my active mind, the soft music helping lull me to a restless sleep without auston in the bed with me.

-

i wake to a gentle hand on my shoulder, grumbling as i open my eyes. i sit up, my hair a frizzy mess as i yawn. i take a second to let my eyes focus, looking up at auston. "you're back..." i whisper.

he smiles softly, "of course i am, i'll always come back to you."

i smile sleepily at his words, scooting back so he can take his place in the hotel bed. he slips in and immediately throws the covers over his body, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. we lay in silence for a second before i hear him speak softly. "you still awake?"

"yeah, you okay?" i look up at him in the darkness, my words cutting through the silence.

"yeah, i just wanted to tell you that i'm proud of you." he says, even in the darkness i can hear the smile on his face.

"for what?" i ask, my brows furrowing.

"for doing so well out there earlier. the guys were all raving to me about how good you did, at it really made me think about it." he says, "i guess i was so wrapped up in the excitement of everything that i forgot to truly congratulate you for winning and for doing such an amazing job."

i smile softly at his words, "thank you, auston. did i really do that good?"

"oh absolutely. you did way better than all those other women out there." he laughs.

i laugh along with him, "i don't know, david's wife rebecca did pretty well."

he hums, "she did okay."

i smack his chest softly, laughing along with him a little. "hey buddy, that's my friend you're talking about!" my words make him laugh a little harder, but soon silence fell over the dark hotel room once more. "but seriously, thank you. i couldn't have been able to do that without you."

he says nothing, pressing a kiss to my lips before he yawns and grabs the small of my back, pulling me closer. i yawn after him, hearing him yawn caused me to follow along almost immediately. he chuckles, rubbing my back softly. i close my eyes, finally content. i soon hear the comforting sound of his snores, making me smile as i soon begin to fall asleep as well.

the excitement and busyness of the day floats away from both auston and my sore bodies, gentle snores erupting from both of us as we sleep off the tired feeling in each others arms.