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m34tthews · 2 days ago

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CHAPTER EIGHT

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

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

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

word count — 11k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)

an — thank you for your patience and all the support <3

masterlist

their days had started to stretch sweet and golden, stitched together with the comfort of shared toothbrushes and folded sweatshirts in each other's drawers. auston and y/n moved in a rhythm now—quiet, consistent, like two hands ticking along the same clock. felix’s leash by the door. coffee in mismatched mugs. her curled in his passenger seat with a yawn as he drove her to work, always five minutes early just to sit in the parking lot with her. sometimes he dropped off lunch with a grin, other times he lingered at the clinic, chatting with her boss in the staff room as if he belonged—and truthfully, he did. her coworkers had started referring to him as your guy, and auston would just smile, the good kind that pressed dimples into his cheeks.

they didn’t always sleep together. well—they did, but on nights when she had early clients or morning evaluations, she’d kiss his forehead, whisper something about needing rest, and go curl up in her own bed. auston never liked it, not really. neither did she. the space felt colder when they weren’t tangled up in each other, but she was disciplined, always thinking ahead. and he respected that. even if he lay on the couch staring at the ceiling for too long before falling asleep.

that morning had been one of those. she’d stayed over, kissed him softly just after five, and slipped out of the room so he wouldn’t wake. he had grumbled in his sleep, reaching for her. by the time he blinked awake, she was already gone.

he’d planned to pick her up after her shift. even texted her around lunch and offered to bring something, but she said she’d eaten already. still, he was antsy all afternoon, checking the clock, thinking about her laugh, the scent she left on his hoodie, the way she leaned her head against the car window and hummed when she was tired.

he walked into her clinic ten minutes before she wrapped, fully expecting to sit and scroll or maybe peek in if she was in one of the break rooms. but then he heard it—soft at first. a kind of muffled sniffling. not dramatic. not attention-seeking. just raw.

his chest tightened instantly.

he followed the sound with quiet steps, turning the corner toward the closed consult room, and when he opened the door, the breath left his lungs.

she was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, head buried, shoulders trembling. her white coat hung loosely from her frame, her name tag askew. her bun had come undone at the nape of her neck, pieces falling around her face.

“hey—hey, hey,” he said quickly, rushing in, his voice low but urgent. “what’s going on?”

she didn’t answer at first, only cried harder when she saw him. he was down beside her in seconds, pulling her into his chest, his arms locking around her tightly as she sank into him like she’d been waiting for it all day. he kissed her temple, then her forehead, his hand soothing up and down her back as he whispered her name.

“i’ve got you,” he said softly. “i’m here. you’re okay, baby.”

her hands fisted into his shirt, face pressed to his chest. the sound of her crying was unbearable. he hated it. he hated seeing her like this. it was the kind of pain that made his ribs ache with helplessness.

he adjusted, sitting back on the small couch, and gently guided her into his lap, one arm around her waist, the other wiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“please talk to me,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her eyes. “it breaks my heart to see you cry, baby. please…”

she blinked up at him, lashes wet, nose red. her voice was hoarse. “i had to put a dog down today.”

auston’s expression softened instantly, thumb still moving gently beneath her eye.

“he was old,” she continued, “but he wagged his tail. even on the table. he was so good. and the owner—she was shaking. she kissed his head and thanked me. thanked me. and i just—”

her voice cracked again, and she broke, burying her face back in his chest.

“you don’t have to say it all now,” he murmured, “just breathe. you did everything right. i know you did.”

“it’s just been a long week,” she whispered, quieter now. “a couple of the kids i see—they’re not improving. and now this.”

he held her tighter, anchoring her with his body, his warmth.

“you carry so much,” he said against her hair. “and you still show up. you’re still the best at what you do.”

“i didn’t feel like it today,” she mumbled.

“even on your worst day, you’re incredible. you hear me?”

she nodded into his shirt, drawing in a slow breath. she didn’t cry again, just let herself sink into him, let the steady beat of his heart soothe her in a way nothing else could. he stayed quiet now, just running his hand over her back, fingers slipping beneath the edge of her coat where her blouse had come untucked.

eventually, she pulled back enough to look up at him. her eyes were still puffy, but the tears had dried.

“you’re gonna ruin your shirt,” she whispered.

he smiled a little. “worth it.”

“i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“and miss the chance to hold you when you need it?” he shook his head gently. “not a chance.”

her throat bobbed. “thank you.”

he kissed her again, softer this time, just below her eye. “you don’t have to thank me. just let me be here for you.”

and she did. she leaned in, her forehead against his, and breathed him in like he was the only thing tethering her to the ground.

outside the room, the rest of the clinic carried on. but in that little bubble—just the two of them, a couch too small, and a moment too big—they found their stillness again.

a few moments later, the knock was soft, tentative—followed by the creak of the door opening just enough to let in the silhouette of her boss, voice gentle.

“hey,” he said, eyes flickering between auston and y/n curled against his chest, “i… heard. i’m really sorry.”

y/n straightened slightly, blinking the wet from her lashes, her voice hoarse as she moved to sit upright from auston’s lap. “i’m okay,” she tried, wiping beneath her eyes quickly. “i can keep going. i’m fine.”

her boss stepped in, face full of quiet sympathy. “you’re not. and that’s okay,” he said. “y/n, you don’t have to pretend in here.”

she opened her mouth again, trying for composure, but he gently cut her off with a small raise of his hand.

“auston,” he turned slightly, addressing him now, “you can take her for the rest of the day. i’ll close things up.”

“really,” she said again, already pushing off of auston’s lap, sitting beside him now, her palms pressed to her thighs. “i don��t want to leave anyone short. i can handle it.”

“you can,” her boss agreed kindly, “but you shouldn’t have to. not today. this morning took a toll on all of us. he was a good dog. and you were his comfort in the end. that stays with a person.”

y/n dropped her gaze to her hands.

“i’m going to do a few check-ups,” he continued, “and then we’ll close early. spend time with your loved ones. it’s not good to keep everything bottled up.”

auston glanced over at her the moment the words left his mouth. loved ones. it hovered in the air for a beat too long.

he watched her carefully—eyes soft, studying the twitch of her mouth, the way she nodded slowly, wiping beneath her eye with the heel of her hand.

“okay,” she said finally, voice quiet. “thank you.”

her boss gave her a small, meaningful hug before stepping back. “take care of yourself, y/n. that’s not just advice I give to clients.”

he left with a reassuring smile, closing the door behind him.

as soon as it clicked shut, auston turned to her, one arm already curling around her back, voice low.

“i’m gonna take care of you,” he said with quiet conviction. “we’ll go home. order your favorite. lie around with felix. or we don’t do anything at all. whatever you need.”

y/n looked up at him, eyes still tired but heart warm. she leaned into his shoulder again, nodding softly.

“anything. just… don’t leave,” she whispered.

he kissed her temple. “i won’t.”

the bed of auston’s truck was warm beneath them, softened by a spare blanket he kept in the back for post-skate cooldowns and now, nights like this. the pizza box lay open between them, crusts half-eaten and growing cold, and the tub of ice cream sat dangerously close to melting on the folded flannel between their legs. the sun had long dipped behind the horizon, streaking the sky in burnt pink and sleepy lavender, the breeze picking up as the city lights far below flickered to life one by one.

she hadn’t said much since they got there.

not out of discomfort—just a quiet heaviness he didn’t press on. auston knew her enough now to let the silence speak for her, and tonight, it did.

felix snoozed somewhere behind them, the smell of oregano and sweet cream lingering in the air, and auston just waited. occasionally grazing her hand with his thumb, brushing her knee, letting her be still until she was ready.

it took a while.

her voice was soft when it came. “i didn’t always know.”

he looked over at her, giving her his full attention.

“that i wanted to be a vet,” she clarified, eyes on the lights below. “i didn’t figure that out until a bit after i started undergrad.”

he stayed quiet, letting her go on.

“i was originally in management,” she said, almost like she couldn’t believe it herself. “business admin or something like that. my parents thought it was smart. i thought it was safe. i hated every second of it.”

auston’s brow furrowed. he nudged her gently. “you? hating school?”

she smiled faintly. “worst time of my life, first semester. i was so… lost. i didn’t know what i was doing or why. i didn’t make friends. i barely went to class. i cried more than i care to admit.”

he hated picturing that. her, curled in on herself somewhere in a too-big lecture hall, folding in on all the parts of her he knew now were made to shine.

“my mom noticed,” she said after a beat, voice smaller. “i’d come home and just… go straight to my room. barely ate. slept all the time. they didn’t push, not at first. but then she sat me down and told me i needed to find something that didn’t feel like punishment. that maybe i should try volunteering. see if something felt like me.”

she shifted a bit, pulling her knees to her chest. “so i did. animal shelter near our place. i thought it’d just be for the credit. but then… it wasn’t.”

auston leaned against the side of the truck, elbow on the rim, chin resting on his palm as he watched her speak.

“they needed people to walk the dogs and clean cages. basic stuff. but something about it… the way those animals looked at you. like you mattered. like they were scared but still chose to trust you. i hadn’t felt like that mattered to anyone in a long time. it gave me more than just joy. it gave me purpose.”

she looked at him then, really looked at him. “it was the first time in months i didn’t feel like disappearing.”

auston’s chest clenched. she hadn’t told him this before. not in this way.

he reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers slowly.

“you know,” he said, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, “that version of you you’re describing? that lost girl who didn’t want to be seen? i would’ve never guessed.”

she smiled, barely.

“all i ever saw back then,” he said quietly, “was someone who made the smartest people in the room look average. who let me copy her answers and then made me feel stupid for not getting it. you were so sure. so… you.”

her laugh was brittle. “i wasn’t always.” a pause, then quieter: “and i still don’t feel like that most days.”

he tilted his head, studying her.

“how is it,” she said, voice breaking a little, “that i can walk into that gala, have people call me brilliant, talented… and then have days where i can’t even get through the damn afternoon without feeling like i’m failing?”

his chest ached at how broken she sounded.

“because you’re human,” he said softly. “and because you care. the work you do—it’s heavy. it’s messy and unpredictable and hard as hell. people forget that loving something doesn’t make it easy.”

she blinked fast, biting her lip.

he tugged her until she leaned over and settled between his legs, her back against his chest, his arms curling around her.

“you know what i think?” he murmured against her temple. “you’re the most capable person i know. and the fact that you still question yourself? that just means you give a shit. it means you want to be better. that’s not failure, y/n. that’s strength.”

her breath stuttered.

“it’s hard,” he added, softer now, “feeling like you’re failing at something you’re suppose to be good at. happens to me all the time.”

that made her turn her head just enough to glance at him. “really?” she asked, disbelief curling into her voice. “auston matthews? mr. multiple 60-goal seasons?”

his lips twitched. “i forgot you’re a hockey enthusiast now”

“sue me,” she said flatly, cheeks warming despite the night air. “i get curious sometimes. want to know how many people scream your name on any given night.”

he laughed then, easy and bright, and she felt it vibrate through his chest into her bones.

“those season?” he went on, voice gentler now. “yeah, it was a big deal. but it wasn’t perfect. i had stretches where i felt off. or useless. especially this past season. i was out of my element . like nothing i did would matter, no matter how many people were cheering.”

she turned slightly, watching his profile in the soft spill of light. he looked serious now, thoughtful.

“the season’s long,” he said, “and sometimes the only reason i make it through is because i have teammates. guys who hold me accountable. who remind me what i’m capable of when i forget.”

he looked down at her, voice steady.

“you don’t have that. not in the same way. you carry all of it—your clients, your staff, the lives you save—on your own shoulders every single day.”

her lip wobbled, and she blinked hard.

“you’re amazing, y/n. you’re smart, and patient, and so goddamn good at what you do. you love what you do. that’s rare. and the animals? they love you for it. felix is in love with you, and he’s a terrible judge of character,” he said lightly, kissing her hair when she gave a watery laugh.

his arms tightened around her, anchoring. “you don’t need to be perfect every day,” he whispered. “you just need to let someone show up for you. even if it’s just to eat ice cream and say nothing for a while.”

she turned in his arms, folding herself into his chest, and he wrapped himself around her like a second skin—warm and steady and unshakable.

“you’re not failing,” he added after a moment. “you’re just tired. and when you’re tired, i want to be the person you lean on. like i lean on my guys when the puck’s not going in.”

“auston,” she whispered, voice tight.

he kissed the corner of her mouth, gentle. “let me be your teammate, baby. i’ve got you.”

the buzz of the tattoo machine thrummed low, blending into the soft music spilling from a speaker in the corner. the shop smelled faintly of antiseptic and ink, sterile yet warm under the muted glow of overhead lights. y/n sat cross-legged on a small black stool, close enough to feel the heat radiating off auston as he stretched out on the padded table.

“you doing okay?” he asked gently, his voice soft enough to cut through the hum. he remembered the way she’d unraveled just last week, all quiet tears and shaky breaths that cracked something in him. how he’d held her in the dark, his arms the only thing keeping her from disappearing into the weight of it all.

she nodded slowly. “i’m okay.” and she meant it—at least more than she had then. colour had crept back into her cheeks these past few days, the heaviness loosening its grip bit by bit. maybe because every time she started to crumble, he was just there. no questions, no judgment—just steady hands and warm silence.

she’s not sure if, or when, she’s ever felt so cared for. but with auston, it was a given.

his shirt was long gone—tossed carelessly onto the counter—and her eyes had been wandering ever since. the full sleeve on his left arm was a masterpiece, black and grey ink flowing up to his shoulder like art carved in skin. from there, it melted into the scripture etched across his chest, delicate but bold, words that shifted with the rise and fall of his breathing. on the right side of his collarbone sat something simpler—three small initials, clean and permanent, resting close to his heart.

“this one,” she murmured, leaning forward, fingertip hovering just above the initials, “these are for…?”

“my sisters and my mom,” auston said, voice soft even under the low hum of the machine. his lips curved faintly. “figured they’d kill me if i didn’t make space for them.”

“smart,” she said with a small smile, brushing her thumb over her own wrist absentmindedly. then, tilting her head, “so… is the other arm next? planning on going full mural?”

he huffed a laugh, eyes flicking toward her. “eventually. maybe. haven’t decided yet.”

“hm.” her gaze drifted over his right arm, all bare skin and veins. “leave it like this, you’ve got balance. fill it in, and you’ll look like… a walking art exhibit.”

his brow arched. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“i’m saying…” she leaned in slightly, voice playful, eyes flicking over the ink on his chest before meeting his again, “i might have a preference.”

he grinned slow. “careful, you’re about to have input on permanent decisions.”

“maybe i should,” she teased. “someone needs to stop you from tattooing the entire stanley cup on your ribcage in the future.”

his jaw ticked as he tried not to laugh. “hilarious.”

“and right,” she added, then softened as her eyes dropped to the scripture curling across his chest. “seriously, though. this—” her fingertip grazed the first line, featherlight, “it’s beautiful.”

his breath hitched. just barely. but enough.

“you keep staring,” he muttered, lips twitching. “you gonna admit you’re into my tattoos or keep pretending?”

“you want me to stroke your ego?” she shot back, though her eyes didn’t leave the ink. “that’s greedy.”

“you’re the one sitting here looking like you wanna climb me,” he fired back, voice dropping, lazy grin tugging at his mouth.

“please,” she scoffed—but when she leaned in and pressed her lips just above the scripture, slow and deliberate, the way his jaw locked told her exactly how close she’d hit.

“you’re gonna get me tattoos smudged,” he rasped.

she smiled against his skin. “just… distracted.”

he barely had time to respond before the artist returned, gloves snapping, the machine buzzing back to life. y/n straightened, biting back a smirk as auston muttered something that sounded suspiciously like evil woman.

she settled back, pretending innocence, though her eyes kept drifting—over the sharp lines of his sleeve, the script stretched across his chest like it had always belonged there, the quiet initials near his collarbone. and he felt it—her gaze—because after a while, his lips curled without looking at her.

“you’re still staring.”

"don't flatter yourself. i've never seen a someone get a tattoo in person,” she murmured.

“or maybe you like me,” he said, smirk deepening, eyes cutting to hers just long enough to make her stomach flip.

she didn’t answer. not out loud. just tilted her head, slow and deliberate, before leaning in one more time and pressing a kiss where the scripture ended—warm, lingering, smug. when she pulled back, his jaw was so tight she thought it might crack.

“you,” he said, voice low enough that only she could hear, “are in so much trouble when this is done.”

and she smiled like the devil, folding her arms and crossing her legs. because honestly? she couldn’t wait.

after a beat, the artist glanced at her. “you thinking of getting one too?”

she blinked. “me?”

“yeah, you’ve been eyeing the flash on the wall for a while,” he said, nodding to the framed sketches behind her. “first time in a shop?”

she smiled sheepishly. “is it that obvious?”

“nah,” he shrugged. “just got the look of someone who hasn’t decided what they want yet.”

auston, still very shirtless and very annoyed, smirked. “she should get my number tatted. right here.” he tapped his hipbone suggestively.

“bold of you to assume i’d want your number permanently inked on my body,” y/n fired back without missing a beat.

the artist snorted. “well now i want to know—what would you get?”

y/n tilted her head, joking slipping into something softer. “i don’t know. maybe something for my family. my grandfather was a painter—he used to paint roses and gift them to us on birthdays or milestones. they were… beautiful. delicate but bold.”

auston stopped looking at her like she was a menace then. his eyes softened, lingering.

“he passed when i was fifteen,” she said quietly. “but his paintings are still around my parents’ house. it’d be nice to carry something of his with me.”

the artist nodded. “something like that would make a great first piece. personal always trumps trendy.”

auston rested his hand on her knee, thumb brushing gently. “he’d like that,” he murmured. “a rose for your grandpa.”

she smiled, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “yeah. maybe i will.”

the artist stepped out again, leaving the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint antiseptic in the air. auston stayed stretched out on the leather, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his stomach where his abs tensed every time she looked too long—and of course, he noticed.

“you keep staring,” he said again, smirk curling. “admit it—you’re obsessed.”

“maybe i just like good art,” she whispered. “maybe i like what it’s on more.”

that made him grin slow and sharp. he reached up, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her jaw before settling beneath her chin. “you’re playing with fire, y/n,” he murmured.

“am i?”

she kissed him again—this time just above his heart, lingering like she was branding the ink for herself. he tensed, muttering a quiet fuck as she pulled back with a smug little smile.

“you,” he rasped, “are in for it.”

“looking forward to it,” she whispered back.

and just as he leaned up to kiss her—the door creaked open.

auston groaned and dropped his head back. y/n tried not to look too pleased with herself.

the sun had barely cracked through the blinds when her phone started buzzing on the nightstand.

y/n didn’t move at first — too warm, too content, too wrapped up in limbs that weren’t hers. auston was half on top of her, their legs tangled together, his hand resting over her hip, lips brushing the slope of her jaw from where he had been sleepily kissing her just seconds ago.

the buzz came again, louder this time, and she groaned, fingers blindly reaching out until her hand found the phone.

“ignore it,” auston mumbled, voice low and still thick with sleep. “they’ll call back.”

“it’s naomi,” she whispered, blinking at the screen. “i have to answer. it’s her birthday.”

“you called her at midnight,” he muttered, arm tightening around her waist. “that counts.”

“not according to her,” she said, already swiping to answer the facetime. she sat up against the headboard just as naomi’s face filled the screen, already glammed and glowing despite it being checks clock not even 9 a.m.

“finally!” naomi cried. “i’ve been blowing up your phone. why are you in bed?! get up, it’s a national holiday!”

auston groaned beside her and pulled the covers over his head.

“you literally just flew in last night,” y/n said with a laugh. “you’re lucky i even got a hold of you at midnight.”

“and you’re lucky i accepted that half-dead whisper of a birthday wish,” naomi shot back. “now get home. we’ve got nails, hair, potentially a wax if i can squeeze it in.”

auston poked his head out just then, brow raised. “wax?”

y/n smacked his chest without even looking. “don’t start.”

naomi rolled her eyes. “oh, great. you’ve already been kidnapped.”

“not kidnapped,” auston muttered. “she’s here willingly.”

“debatable,” naomi sniffed. “the only way i’m forgiving you for hoarding her this long is if you bring hot hockey men to my dinner tonight. single ones. with visible jawlines and emotional intelligence.”

“emotional intelligence is a tall order,” y/n said, grinning.

“i have faith,” naomi deadpanned. “now, babe, seriously. i need you here. i only have, like, a few years left before you go full domestic — married, kids, boring — and i’m trying to milk our youth while i still can.”

auston sat up slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. “wow. thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” she replied sweetly. “see you soon, babe. and bye, boyfriend,” she added with exaggerated disinterest before hanging up.

y/n stared at the blank screen and sighed. “i need to go.”

auston collapsed back onto the pillows with a dramatic exhale. “i figured.”

“you know how she is,” she said, sliding off the bed and padding toward her suitcase. “she’s been planning this day for months. down to the playlist and how our coffees match our outfits.”

he propped himself on an elbow, watching her tug on leggings. “i know. i just thought i had a few more hours.”

“you can nap,” she said, pulling on a cropped zip hoodie. “dream of me.”

“can’t nap if i’m grieving.”

she snorted, zipping up. “you’re being dramatic.”

“maybe i like having you to myself,” he said softly, gaze lingering on her as she moved around the room.

she paused, looking over her shoulder. “you’re sweet when you pout.”

“you’re mean when you leave,” he said back, teasing but soft beneath it.

as she walked back over, brushing her hair behind her ear, she said, “naomi thinks she’s on a deadline.”

“a deadline?”

“yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “she says she only has a few more years before she settles down and has babies.”

auston blinked, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “she might be onto something”

“she’s manifesting,” y/n replied, grinning as she leaned down and kissed him.

he kissed her back lazily, hand slipping up her spine.

“don’t tempt me to stay,” she murmured against his mouth.

“too late,” he said, kissing her again — slower this time, a hand still buried in her hoodie strings, trying to pull her back down.

but she laughed, pulling away with a gentle shove. “i’ll be back before you can miss me.”

“already do,” he muttered as she slipped on her sneakers.

she paused at the doorway, hand resting on the frame, and looked back at him — all golden skin and rumpled sheets, lips bitten pink from their morning and eyes so soft they undid her a little.

she crossed the room one last time, pressed one more kiss to his lips, and whispered, “happy naomi day. i'll see you later tonight”

then she was gone — sneakers squeaking down the hallway, leaving behind the scent of her perfume and the ache of a morning not quite finished.

the salon smelled like lavender and eucalyptus — calm and clean, with a quiet hum of dryers and soft jazz from the overhead speakers. y/n was mid-hand massage, her nails painted a sheer nude, when naomi finally leaned back in her chair and sighed dramatically.

“okay. now that we’re officially seated, caffeinated, and soaking in luxury — tell me everything.”

y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “you already know everything.”

“don’t play with me. i know what you let me know. i want the real stuff. like, when did we officially become boyfriend and girlfriend?”

y/n smiled softly, eyes dropping to her lap. “after the ASU gala.”

naomi’s jaw dropped. “shut up. you waited this long to tell me?”

“we were… kind of already acting like it,” y/n shrugged. “but that night… it just felt right. we talked after, like really talked, and then he asked.”

naomi grinned, absolutely beaming. “i knew that night was magic. you looked unreal, by the way. like a trophy wife. actually, better.”

“you’re insane,” y/n laughed.

“i’m right,” naomi said. “and you’re glowing. annoyingly so.”

y/n looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as her tech guided her toward the UV dryer.

“it’s just been… really good,” she said softly. “like, I-wake-up-smiling good. and sometimes it freaks me out. like, i’m waiting for the shoe to drop.”

naomi’s teasing eased, gaze softening as she turned to her. “maybe there’s no shoe. maybe it’s just… your turn. for good things.”

y/n blinked, throat tightening.

“you deserve it,” naomi said gently. “you always have.”

they sat in the quiet for a few moments, soft hum of dryers filling the space. and then, of course, naomi’s voice broke through with all the grace of a jackhammer.

“now tell me about the sex.”

y/n choked on a laugh. “naomi!”

“you owe me! i tell you about all my hookups and failed dates remember? the one who made me split the uber and the appetizer? i earned this.”

y/n gave her a look but couldn’t suppress her grin. “fine. it was…”

naomi leaned in dramatically.

she paused, “really good.”

naomi slapped her thigh. “you bitch!”

y/n covered her face, muffling her laugh. “it was good! like, slow and… i don’t know, just real. like he wanted me to feel everything.”

“ugh,” naomi groaned. “i need a boyfriend. or at least someone with a jawline and patience.”

her second hand had just been set under the dryer when her phone buzzed again beside her thigh. she glanced down instinctively, eyes catching on the venmo notification that slid across her lockscreen. it took a second to register — and then her breath hitched.

she blinked at the amount. her brows lifted. audibly.

“what?” naomi asked immediately, leaning in suspiciously. “what’s that face?”

y/n stared at her screen like it had offended her. “he just—he venmoed me.”

naomi’s mouth parted. “for what?”

“for…” she hesitated, still trying to wrap her head around the ridiculous figure attached. “hair. nails. and apparently anything else i want today.”

“no. show me.” she gasped

“no.”

“you suck,” naomi whined. “but also… your man’s insane.”

y/n didn’t respond. instead, she picked up her phone and tapped his name, lifting the screen to her ear while her free hand rested carefully under the blue glow of the dryer.

it rang twice before she heard his voice, low and boyish, the subtle wind in the background giving away that he was somewhere outdoors.

“hey, baby.”

his voice curled around her chest, warm and familiar.

“what are you doing?” she asked, already smiling.

“tee time,” he said casually. “you just interrupted my swing.”

she rolled her eyes, quieting her voice as the nail tech moved on to naomi beside her. “then maybe don’t send me that much money and i won’t feel like i have to call you and refuse it.”

he chuckled, and she could hear the grin in it. “i’m not taking it back.”

“auston—”

“it’s for your day,” he cut in, voice softening. “go get your hair done. get your disgustingly sweet coffee. let naomi to boss you around and complain even though you love spending time with. i’ll see you tonight.”

she flushed. “you’re unreal.”

“and you’re hot,” he replied. “how’s the colour?”

she glanced at her drying nails, still under the lamp. “you’ll love it.”

he hummed, pleased. “will it match what you’re wearing tonight?”

her lip tugged into a smile as she leaned back, letting her voice dip low and sweet. “you’ll have to wait and see.”

he exhaled a laugh, like he could already picture it. “so you are trying to kill me before i lay eyes on you tonight”

“not before the party,” she teased.

“my girl,” he said, “so considerate.”

“sure.”

“you sound good,” he added after a beat, voice quieter. “happy.”

“i am.”

“good,” he murmured. “i’ll see you tonight.”

she lingered just a second before whispering, “can’t wait.”

when she hung up, she found naomi smirking at her with both hands under her dryer like the nosiest villain.

“i don’t know how you expect me to stay sane with this being your real life,” she said. “like. is this what being in love looks like? because i feel like i could cry and vomit at the same fine.”

“shut up,” y/n giggled, cheeks flushed.

“shut up,” naomi mimicked in a high-pitched mock voice. “i need to look perfect tonight maybe i’ll meet the love of my life and get loved up like you.”

“i have no doubt you will,” y/n said, still dazed, still glowing. “it’s naomi day, remember?”

“damn right it is,” naomi grinned. “and you are going to look so hot. he’ll go into cardiac arrest.”

“don’t worry,” y/n said, smirking. “he won’t even know what hit him.” they both deviously looked at each other getting ready for what they had in store for him.

the night started like every other time his friends dragged him out—except, apparently, they were all in on roasting him.

“well look what we have here. auston matthews,” clay drawled as they slid into the booth, bass vibrating through the floor. “voluntarily entering a club.. didn’t think i’d live to see it. you've been getting old on me”

“you’ve been out with me before,” auston deadpanned, shrugging out of his jacket.

“yeah, like three off-seasons ago,” another voice chimed in, followed by laughter. “you’ve gone full hermit since then.”

“you’re old, man,” clayton grinned, elbowing him. “and whipped as hell.”

auston leaned back against the leather, one arm stretching lazily across the top of the booth. “settled down,” he corrected, calm as ever.

they all groaned. “same difference.”

“nah,” auston said, scanning the crowd. “there’s a difference.”

“yeah?” clay lifted a brow. “like what?”

auston didn’t hesitate. “settling down means i chose it. being whipped means i didn’t have a choice.” his mouth curved, slow and smug. “and trust me—I’d choose her every time.”

they hooted at that, drinks raised in mock salute. “god, you’re soft.”

“you’ll get it when you have a girl,” auston shot back, unbothered. he pulled out his phone, lighting up the screen for the fiftieth time tonight. notifications stacked—her texts, naomi’s stories, the playlist she sent earlier.

“jesus,” one of them groaned, leaning over. “you’re actually checking her stories at the table.”

“and?” auston didn’t even glance up, scrolling through her best friend’s obnoxious videos until he caught a flash of white silk.

his pulse kicked. holy shit.

he slid the phone back into his pocket before they could clock the shift in his expression, fingers curling against his thigh as they drained their drinks and headed toward the ropes.

the second they stepped inside, the club swallowed them whole—dark corners, pulsing neon, bodies moving like water under the beat. naomi’s section wasn’t hard to find; she was a glowing center of chaos, perched on a couch in bright red, arms thrown up like she owned the place.

“you see her?” clay asked, jerking his chin toward the booth.

auston didn’t answer. couldn’t.

because she was there. right there, on the cushions beside naomi, pulled up into the orbit of flashing lights and champagne bubbles, and it hit him like a gut punch.

ivory satin. short enough that the hem flirted with the tops of her thighs every time she moved. the neckline dipped, delicate straps skimming her shoulders, the silk hugging curves he knew by heart now but still made him ache like the first time. her hair caught the glow, and her laugh—god, he could see it, even across the room—lit something up in his chest he hadn’t felt all night.

“holy…” one of the guys let out a low whistle. “that’s your girl?”

auston dragged his gaze away long enough to smirk. “yeah.”

“bro, she’s—”

“don’t finish that,” auston warned, but his mouth tilted anyway because yeah, he knew. he knew exactly what she looked like.

she hadn’t seen him yet, too busy dancing with naomi, hips swaying to the beat, her arms loose around her friend’s neck. then, like the universe hated him—or loved him—she glanced up. found him across the chaos.

and god, when she smiled at him, his lungs forgot how to work.

he didn’t even remember weaving through the crowd—just the heat of the music, the weight of his own pulse as her smile widened like a dare. by the time he reached the booth, naomi had already clocked him, grinning like she’d manifested the entire scene.

but y/n didn’t wait for him to say a word. the second his hand found her waist, she hopped down from the couch, satin brushing against his knuckles, and kissed him like she’d been waiting all night. no hesitation, no glance around to check who was watching. just lips parting against his, her arms curling up and around his neck as the bass thrummed under their feet.

auston groaned into it, low and rough, one hand spanning the small of her back, pulling her flush like she belonged there—like there wasn’t anyone else in the room. because as far as he was concerned, there wasn’t.

when she finally pulled back, her lip gloss smudged against his mouth, his breath hitched like he’d sprinted a mile. “jesus,” he muttered, forehead dropping to hers with a grin tugging at his lips. “that’s one way to say hi.”

“you like it?” she teased, voice light but eyes glinting with something darker.

“like it?” his thumb brushed the curve of her jaw, tilting her face so he could take her in. “been thinking about this since the second you answered that facetime this morning.” his gaze drifted up, and his brows shot. “and… hold on.” he caught a strand between his fingers, the soft highlights glinting under the strobe lights. “this is new.”

she smirked, fingers playing with the knot of his tie-less collar. “figured no better time to go back to highlights. it’s summer after all.”

“you didn’t tell me.”

“i asked you what you thought about it,” she reminded, tapping a manicured nail against his chest.

his laugh rumbled out, warm and unfiltered. “this why you were fishing for opinions? you look…” his eyes skimmed over her slowly, deliberately, stopping at the hair, then back to her lips. “fucking unreal, baby.”

heat climbed up her neck, even as she tried to play it cool. “just highlights,” she said, lifting her drink to her mouth.

“yeah?” his eyes dipped to the pale polish wrapped around the glass in her hand, and something wicked curved his mouth. “and nails too. you did all this for me?”

she sipped slowly, lashes lowering as if the music wasn’t pulsing like a heartbeat between them. “maybe. you like the colour?”

he grinned, teeth catching his bottom lip as his fingers slid down to the dip of her waist. “love it. gonna love it even more when they’re digging into my back later.”

her breath caught, just barely, and his smile turned downright lethal when he felt the shiver run through her.

“auston,” she warned softly, even though her body leaned closer, his cologne sinking into her skin.

“what?” his voice was a low drawl, his mouth grazing her ear now as he added, “you started this when you walked in looking like that. you think i’m gonna keep my hands off you all night?”

her laugh was shaky, her fingers tightening where they rested on his shirt. “this only just a preview.”

“mmm.” his nose brushed her temple as he kissed her cheek, slow and soft in contrast to the way his words curved sharp against her throat a second later: “but i’m still not letting you out of my sight, beautiful.”

before he could dip his head and steal another kiss, a loud voice cut through the music.

“well, well, if it isn’t my favorite couple!”

y/n didn’t even have to turn. naomi slid into view like she owned the whole damn club—because honestly, she might as well. red dress, glossy lips, grin wide enough to blind. she looped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, eyes sparkling with mischief as she clocked auston.

“happy birthday, trouble,” auston said with a smirk, slinging his arm around her in a side hug.

“about time you remembered who the guest of honour is,” naomi teased, though her grin softened when she hugged him quickly. “and don’t think i forgave you for kidnapping my best friend for like, a week straight.”

“you survived without her,” auston shot back easily, slipping an arm tighter around y/n’s waist. “barely,” naomi quipped, flipping her hair. then—just as her gaze drifted past his shoulder—everything shifted. her eyes widened, and her mouth curved slow, wicked.

“and who,” she said, voice pitching high like a discovery, “is this?”

auston didn’t even need to look. he already knew who stood behind him because the second naomi locked on, clayton let out a soft laugh like he’d just stepped into a trap.

“that’s clay,” auston said, fighting a grin when naomi all but sashayed around him to greet his friend. “clayton keller. he plays for the—”

“i don’t need his resume,” naomi interrupted smoothly, eyes never leaving clay as she extended her hand. “hi, birthday girl. you can call me your dream come true.”

clay blinked, then laughed, shaking her hand. “pretty sure i’m supposed to say that line.”

“not tonight,” she purred, sliding her arm through his without missing a beat. “tonight, you’re my present.”

“jesus,” auston muttered under his breath, earning a snort from y/n.

“go on, big guy,” naomi tossed over her shoulder, already pulling clay toward the dance floor with a grin that could set fire to the club. “you’ve got your person, i’ve got mine.”

auston shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes as he turned back to y/n. “she’s going to eat him alive.”

“it’s her birthday,” y/n reminded, laughing softly as her arms slipped back around his neck. "she can do whatever she wants. we have to nod in agreement when asked”

they slipped through the packed club toward the bar, auston’s hand firm and low on her back, like claiming her was second nature. the lights strobed over the sharp line of his jaw, cutting him in flashes of blue and red, and god, he looked unfair like that—relaxed but lethal, his height and the quiet weight of his presence clearing space no one dared fill.

“what do you want?” he asked, his voice pitched low as he bent to her ear, his breath warm and steady against her skin like a secret.

“vodka soda,” she managed, though her pulse jumped when he didn’t pull back right away, just lingered like he liked the way she tilted her head toward him.

he straightened, ordered without hesitation, his other hand sliding lower until it curved just above her hip, thumb brushing slow arcs like he had all the time in the world to ruin her composure. she was hyperaware of every inch of him, and maybe that’s why she didn’t notice them at first—the two guys a few feet over, eyes lingering too long—but auston did. he saw it in the way their heads tipped together, like they thought they had a chance. like they didn’t see him, right here, wrapped around her like a shield with teeth.

his jaw ticked. before she could even register, he leaned in again, voice lower now, the kind that crawled over your skin and stayed there.

“you look insane tonight,” he murmured, every word slow enough to drag heat up her spine. “you’ve got no idea what it does to me seeing you in this dress.”

her laugh was soft, teasing, but it cracked around the edges. “you’ve said that like six times already.”

“and i’ll keep saying it,” he breathed, his lips brushing her ear before pressing a kiss there—fleeting, not messy, not for show. a warning. a claim. his arm tightened around her waist as the bartender slid the drinks over, pulling her closer like he couldn’t help it.

by the time she caught the way those guys turned back toward their group, it was too late—they were gone, scattering like smoke, and auston smirked when he handed her the glass.

“problem?” she asked, one brow arched, catching the flash in his eyes.

“not anymore.” he clinked his drink against hers, voice silk over steel. “i’m good.”

they wove back through the crowd, his hand never leaving her, and she tried—god, she tried—to ignore the way it burned, that constant reminder that even here, surrounded by a hundred people, she was his orbit.

“you don’t have to—”

“don’t have to what?” he cut in smoothly, glancing down with faux innocence and something simmering underneath.

“act like you own me,” she teased, lifting her drink to her lips, like the warmth in her throat wasn’t from him.

auston leaned in until his nose brushed her hairline, his voice dropping to something smug and sharp-edged. “who said i’m acting?”

it hit low, deep, settling in a place she couldn’t touch even if she tried. because the truth of it was there—in his hand, in the heat rolling off him, in the way every look screamed that anyone watching should already know how this ended.

even though she knew he wasn’t a dancer, when she tugged his hand toward the floor, he came anyway, like he’d been waiting for the excuse. music thumped hard under their feet, bass rattling through her ribs, light slicing his face into something almost cruel, almost too beautiful.

“didn’t peg you for a dancer, matthews,” she teased, tipping her head up as her body swayed against his.

“i’m not,” he said easily, sliding an arm low around her waist until his palm curved against her hip, anchoring her like gravity. “but for you?” his lips brushed her hairline, voice curling like smoke. “different story.”

her laugh cracked into something breathless when his chest pressed flush to her back, closing the gap until there was nothing between them but heat and bass and the sharp, delicious drag of his breath at her ear.

“memorial day weekend,” she shot back, grinning over her shoulder. “you didn’t even try.”

his mouth curved, slow and lethal. “that was avril lavigne, baby,” he murmured, dragging the word like currency over his tongue. “this—” his hips rolled against her, a barely-there grind that stole her air— “is different.”

and it was. because the second her hips rolled back into his, slow and teasing, he didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate—just held her tighter, his hand sliding lower on her thigh where satin ended and skin began, thumb grazing her in a way that felt like a dare.

“auston,” she warned, but it was useless when her hands reached back, fingers curling in the hair at his nape, pulling him closer until his breath burned hot against her ear.

“you feel what you do to me?” his voice broke like gravel, hips shifting slow, controlled, wrecked with restraint. “fuck, y/n, you’ve been killing me since you walked in wearing that.”

by the time they made it back to the booth, restraint was a fragile thing—hanging by threads, fraying fast. he sat first, dragging her down with him until she was acoss his lap, the dress sliding scandalously high, satin whispering secrets across his thighs. her drink clinked onto the table, forgotten, because his hands were already on her—one gripping her waist, the other skimming the bare length of her thigh like he owned every inch.

"people could see us,” she teased, voice thin when his fingers trailed higher, flirting with the edge of lace.

“baby,” he murmured, low enough that it was only for her, “i could care less” his thumb stroked higher still, a lazy circle that made her choke on air.

“what if i put my hand here,” he whispered, adjusting her so his body blocked the world, his palm sliding just under the hem, brushing heat where it hurt the most. “would i find you wet for me? hmm?”

her laugh stuttered like a secret. “why don’t you check and find out.” her hands framed his jaw then, pulling his mouth to hers in a kiss that detonated every ounce of control he’d been clinging to.

he did check, and holy fuck—his breath hissed out sharp, ragged. “new underwear?” he rasped, breaking the kiss for half a second, forehead pressed to hers.

she nodded, lips slick and swollen, and he gripped her chin tight, forcing her gaze to his. “please tell me you bought it with the money i sent.”

she bit her lip, teeth sinking in like temptation personified. “among others.”

a curse tore from him, raw and filthy, before his mouth crushed hers again. heat curled everywhere, coiling tighter and tighter as his fingers moved slow, deliberate, coaxing her apart until she was trembling, nails biting into his shoulders like lifelines.

that’s when she did it—the subtle tilt of her hips, the soft graze of her heel dragging up his calf, the sharp point tracing slow, dangerous lines on his skin. his entire body shuddered like a live wire, jaw locked as his composure cracked.

“you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he gritted, the words vibrating against her mouth.

“then lose it,” she whispered back, and it was game over.

his hand pressed deeper, working her open until her head tipped back, lips parting on a sound swallowed by the music. she bit down on his shoulder when the world shattered, every muscle bowing tight, hips jerking helplessly against his fingers.

he kissed her through it—slow, filthy, like they weren’t in a booth with half the club around them—and when she finally collapsed against him, boneless and wrecked, he brushed his lips to her jaw, his voice molten. “remember what you said earlier? about previews?”

she made a sound, something like a laugh tangled in a groan.

“good.” his teeth scraped her pulse, promise curling in every syllable. “because i’m cashing in the second we get home.”

and then, softer, like a vow: “home . later."

the night stretched long, music pulsing in her bones like a second heartbeat. she danced until her legs ached, until her cheeks burned from laughing at naomi’s theatrics, but somewhere between one chorus and the next, the weight of it all began to creep in—the lights too bright, the crowd too thick, her chest too full.

her drink was warm now, forgotten in her hand as she swayed half-heartedly next to naomi, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach. naomi caught it immediately—she always did.

“social battery’s dead, huh?” naomi leaned close, her hair sticking to her temple, perfume sweet and heady even through the haze of the club.

“running on fumes,” y/n admitted, guilt prickling even as she laughed. “i’m the worst.”

“please,” naomi waved it off, eyes glinting with something softer. “you’ve been here since before midnight, you danced with me, you looked hot—best friend of the year, babe. now go get your man before i have to pry his eyes off you myself.”

“he’s fine,” y/n tried, but her gaze betrayed her, flicking across the room like a magnet drawn to steel. auston was exactly where she’d left him—tucked in the corner booth, long legs sprawled, one arm slung over the backrest like he owned the damn thing. even half in shadow, he looked carved from something dangerous, his jaw sharp under the dim light, his shirt clinging to broad shoulders that made her mouth dry.

and those eyes? glued to her like no one else existed.

“see?” naomi grinned, following her line of sight. “he’s practically undressing you from here. go before he combusts—and tell him i said thanks for bringing eye candy to my birthday.”

y/n laughed, pulling her into a tight hug, whispering against her ear, “happy birthday, nay. i love you.”

“i love you more. thank you for today, i couldn’t have asked for a better birthday or best friend. now leave before i shove you out myself,” naomi teased, giving her a playful smack on the butt before spinning back toward the girls.

heart pounding harder than it had all night, y/n slipped through the throng, every nerve buzzing under the heat of auston’s stare. his mouth curved slow when she stopped in front of him, a smile that was more like a dare.

“tired?” he asked, though the way he straightened, sliding his hand to her hip, said he already knew the answer.

“drained,” she admitted softly, leaning in just enough for her perfume to hit him, for his breath to catch.

“let’s go,” he murmured, simple as that—no questions, no hesitation. just the kind of certainty that made her chest tighten.

the uber ride was a blur—heat pressed thigh to thigh, his fingers tangled with hers, the city lights flashing across his face like a secret she didn’t want to keep anymore. by the time they stumbled through her front door, laughter spilled out of her mouth, muffled against his as his lips found hers the second it clicked shut.

he didn’t waste time. didn’t even try. his hands were everywhere—her waist, her back, sliding down to grip her thighs like he needed her closer, deeper. she gasped against him when her spine hit the wall, his mouth trailing down her jaw, teeth grazing her pulse.

“this fucking dress,” he groaned into her skin, voice raw, like it was clawing out of his throat.

she laughed breathlessly, fingers clutching his shirt. “you like it?”

“like it?” he dragged his mouth back to hers, kissing her until she was dizzy. “i’m obsessed with it. obsessed with you.”

she smiled against his lips, whispering, “naomi picked it. said it would make you lose it.”

his groan was guttural. “i’m buying her a fucking gift.”

she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he scooped her up like she weighed nothing. “you’re insane.”

“you love it,” he shot back, kissing her hard as he carried her down the hall, her laughter breaking into a gasp every time her back hit the wall in his haste.

by the time they reached the bedroom, they were both wrecked with want. he dropped her gently on the edge of the bed, towering over her like a storm barely contained. she looked up at him, lips swollen, eyes dark, and then—slowly—pushed at his chest.

“sit,” she murmured, voice low, almost commanding.

his brow arched, but the corner of his mouth curved, and he obeyed, sinking onto the mattress with his legs spread, forearms braced on his thighs like he knew exactly what game she was about to play.

“what are you doing, baby?” his tone was rough, curious, already unraveling.

“something i’ve been wanting to try,” she whispered, stepping between his knees, hands skimming up his chest as she kissed him again—soft first, then deeper, her tongue teasing until he groaned into her mouth.

she pushed his shirt up and off in one smooth pull, tossing it aside before her lips traced down the column of his throat. he hissed when she bit gently, his head tipping back as her mouth worked down—over his chest, his abs, every sharp line of him.

“fuck,” he breathed, muscles twitching under her kiss. “you’re killing me.”

“good,” she murmured against his skin, dropping lower, until her knees hit the floor between his spread thighs. her hands gripped them, nails pressing lightly through his jeans as she looked up, wrecked and sure all at once.

his breath hitched. “wait—”

she froze, fingers on his button. “what?”

he swallowed hard, every muscle tight. “are you drunk?”

she shook her head instantly, voice steady. “no! i only had that one drink hours ago. i just… i want this. i want you.”

his jaw clenched, resolve fraying with every second she stayed there, looking like sin on her knees. “fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face before meeting her gaze again. “you’re sure?”

“i’ve never been more sure,” she whispered, fingers finally popping the button, dragging the zipper slow, deliberate. “it’s been a long time. and i want to be good for you. will you let me be good for you, baby?”

a sound ripped from his chest, half groan, half prayer. his hands found her hair, gathering it gently as he stared down at her like she was about to ruin him completely. “you’re always good to me,” he rasped, voice almost breaking. “but fuck, baby—think you can take all of me?”

her lips curled into the softest, filthiest smile, eyes wide and bright like she was both innocent and devastating in the same breath. “i know i can,” she said, tone like a promise. “i want to make you feel so good.”

and just like that, his restraint snapped.

his breath hitched, sharp and audible in the quiet room, as her fingers slid beneath the waistband of his jeans and tugged them down over strong thighs. he lifted his hips without a word, eyes never leaving her, watching her like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to worship or devour her.

“jesus,” he muttered when she palmed him through his briefs, his head tipping back for a second, a groan spilling out that sounded like something feral. “you’re… fuck, you’re really doing this.”

she looked up at him through her lashes, voice velvet-soft but laced with mischief. “you don’t want me to?”

his eyes snapped back to hers, dark and wild. “don’t play with me, baby. you know i want you more than i’ve ever wanted anything.”

her lips brushed against his thigh as she whispered, “then let me.”

and then she was tugging his briefs down, freeing him, and his breath stuttered in his chest like he’d been sucker punched. big—bigger than she’d even imagined—and thick, flushed, heavy in her hand as she wrapped her fingers around him.

“holy shit,” she breathed, eyes flicking up to see his jaw tighten when her thumb swept across the tip, collecting the bead of precum there. “you weren’t kidding.”

he let out a strangled laugh, though it cracked into a moan when she stroked him slowly, teasing, savoring every second. “swear to god, you’re gonna fucking ruin me.” he ground out, one hand fisting the sheets while the other stayed tangled in her hair.

“that’s the plan,” she whispered, before leaning forward and licking a slow stripe from base to tip, her tongue tracing every vein, every ridge. his thighs tensed under her, a curse ripped from his chest.

he looked down at her with his free hand trailed across her collarbones and the top of her breasts. "take out your tits, baby. i need to see you" she didn't remove herself from him and instead used her free hand to drop the flimsy straps of her dress.

the sight of her glossy eyes and bare breasts was almost enough for him to finish then and there. “fuck—” his voice was raw now, broken. “baby… oh my god…”

she hummed against him, lips wrapping around the tip, sinking lower until her mouth was hot and tight around him. his hips jerked despite himself, his hand gripping her hair tighter, but still gentle—always gentle, even as his body shook with restraint.

“jesus christ,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back. “you feel so good. holy shit—keep going. just like that. fuck.”

she bobbed her head slowly at first, working him deeper, her free hand curling around the base, stroking where her mouth couldn’t reach. when she hollowed her cheeks and gave the slightest moan, his whole body shuddered.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he panted, dragging his gaze back down to her, and the sight—her, on her knees between his legs, lips stretched around him, eyes blown wide with want—snapped something deep inside him. “look at me, baby. yeah—eyes on me. god, you’re perfect.”

his voice was wrecked, and when she looked up, lips slick and pupils blown, he nearly lost it. his thighs trembled when she took him deeper, gagging just slightly before pulling back with a wet pop that had him groaning like a man on his knees for salvation.

“fuck,” he hissed, his chest heaving. “you’re insane. how are you so good at this? who taught you how to do that?" he breathlessly asked, his mind short cirucuting

she lifted her eyebrow with a smirk on her lips, "actually don't answer that."

she smirked, her voice husky as she stroked him slow and deliberate. “told you. i wanted to be good for you.”

he laughed—hoarse, broken—as his thumb brushed her swollen bottom lip. “baby, you’re not good. i am starting to think you're lethal.”

before she could tease him back, his hand was on her jaw, tilting her face up, and then he kissed her—filthy and deep, tasting himself on her tongue as he pulled her up into his lap like she weighed nothing. she straddled him instinctively, knees braced on either side, and his cock pressed hot and heavy against her soaked panties, making them both moan into each other’s mouths.

“you’re wet,” he growled against her lips, dragging his fingers down to push the flimsy fabric aside, finding her slick and ready. “all this for me?”

“always you,” she whispered, rolling her hips shamelessly against him. “been thinking about this all night.”

“you’re killing me,” he said again, forehead pressed to hers like he was praying. and then his voice dropped, dark and low. “ride me, baby. i want to feel you.”

her breath hitched, heart pounding, but the hunger in his eyes burned through every hesitation she thought she might have had. she nodded, trembling with anticipation as she ripped open a condom from her side table and reached between them to slip it on, guiding him to her entrance. the stretch stole her breath—hot, thick, perfect—and her mouth fell open as she sank down slow, inch by devastating inch.

“holy shit,” he choked, his hands gripping her hips so tight she’d feel it later. “fuck—fuck, baby—”

“you’re… so big,” she gasped, voice breaking as she bottomed out, her nails biting into his shoulders. “oh my god— i don't when i'll get use to it”

“you’re taking me so good,” he rasped, kissing her hard like he couldn’t stop himself. “so fucking perfect. mine.”

her hips rolled once, testing, and he groaned like it hurt. like it healed. “yeah,” he hissed, grinding up into her, his restraint hanging by a thread. “that’s it. ride me like you mean it.”

and she did. slow at first, teasing, until his hands took control, guiding her into a rhythm that left them both shaking, kissing between curses and broken sounds, her head tipped back as his mouth devoured her throat, her chest, every inch he could reach.

“fuck, you’re unreal,” he growled, voice ragged against her ear. “gonna make me lose my mind.”

“then lose it,” she moaned, clutching his hair, moving harder, faster. “please, aus—god—please—”

“say it,” he demanded, thrusting up into her with every word. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” she cried out, trembling apart in his arms. “only yours.”

his name tore out of her like a prayer when she came, and that was it—that was his undoing. he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries as his hips snapped up one last time before he fell apart, clinging to her like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

after, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and breath, her cheek pressed to his chest, his heart slamming against her ear like a drum. he didn’t let go. not when his breathing evened out. not when her lashes fluttered closed. his arms only tightened, his lips finding her hair as he whispered against her crown

“fuck, baby…i think you killed me.”

they stayed tangled like that for a long minute, both catching their breath, her cheek pressed against his sweat-damp chest. he kissed her hair lazily, one arm still locked tight around her waist like he couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go.

“you okay?” he murmured eventually, his voice soft now, familiar, the way it always was when the heat burned off and all that was left was this—him and her.

“more than okay,” she whispered, tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “you?”

“yeah.” he smiled into her hair, squeezing her gently. “better than okay. like… i won't be able to function tomorrow. or ever for that matter.”

she laughed quietly, lifting her head just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “glad i could help.”

“help?” he snorted, grinning now as he rolled them gently so she was on her back. “baby, you just ruined me.”

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