#William nylander one shot

[twirlyleafs]

“Scaredy-cat”

William Nylander x reader

TW: alcohol, slight angst

~~~~

“You wanna dance?”

You tore your eyes away from the happy couple to look at your boyfriend, your eyebrows raised. He simply just stared back, a small smile on his face, awaiting your answer.

“I don’t dance, William.” You clarified, reaching to take a sip from your champagne flute.

“Aw come on, it’s a wedding.” He exclaimed, turning eagerly towards you. His knee bumped into yours and his hand automatically patted your leg, as to say sorry. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, which he most definitely wasn’t even aware of.

“I don’t know why that would matter.”

“Because people dance at weddings. Especially people who are in love.” He dragged out the word at the end, almost giggling. When you locked eyes with him you could see how they were slightly glossy, his cheeks a rosy shade. He was obviously more tipsy than you had realized. It was adorable.

“And we’re in love?” You teased, earning an exaggerated frown in response.

“Of course we are.”

You laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, the frown on his face dissolving. Parting your lips you hoped he would forget about his inquiry, but when he pulled away you knew he wouldn’t let it go that easy.

“Come on Will, dancing is really not my thing.” You sighed, taking another sip from your glass.

“But I’m your thing,” he whined, pushing his bottom lip out. “And I want to dance with you. Please?”

You scanned his face for a few seconds, mind trying to come up with literally any excuse. Sighing, you realized you wouldn’t be able to say no to his big, blue eyes. So you just nodded. William grinned widely and practically jumped up on his feet. As he brushed off his trousers you downed the rest of your drink and put the glass down. Grabbing his outreached hand you let him pull you over to the dance floor that was quickly filling up. Without a word he placed your hand on his shoulder, grabbing the other with his own. He pressed a kiss to it as he wrapped his free arm around your waist. You couldn’t help but smile.

“See? It’s not that bad.” Will argued, swaying the two of you to the beat. You just hummed, glancing down at your heels. “It’s okay if you step on me.” He added.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, looking back up at him. He smiled widely, pulling you somehow even closer to him. You head rested comfortably against his shoulder and after a while you weren’t even thinking about moving, you just followed his lead. Will leaned his cheek against your head and you felt his breath on your hair.

“This is actually nice.” You admitted, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

“I told you.”

“Yeah but this is barely dancing. We’re just swaying.” You pointed out, trying to defend your earlier position on the matter. Will laughed and agreed with a kiss to the top of your head.

“When we get married we’re gonna have to learn how to properly waltz though.”

He must have felt how your whole body tensed up, and even if he didn’t he definitely noticed how you almost tripped, gripping his shoulder tighter not to fall. You mentally slapped yourself for reacting so harshly when he pulled away slightly to look down at you.

“Are you freaking out because I mentioned marriage or are you just a really bad dancer?” He asked, trying to ease the sudden tension with something resembling a joke. When you avoided his gaze, still occupied with processing his earlier statement, his shoulders slumped. “Oh, right.” He stopped the swaying, slowly letting his hands fall from your body. William took a small step back, reaching up to scratch the stubble on his cheek before pulling his hair back. Your mind was racing. It was an overreaction, you knew it was, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The thought of marriage had never been on the table for you, not since you were a kid, and even though you loved Will very much it had never even occurred to you that you’d one day be husband and wife. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, it’s just that the way he said it so casually threw you for a loop. You weren’t ready for it.

“I’m gonna go get a drink. You want anything?”

You blinked and looked up at the man in front of you. Now it was his time to advert his gaze. He had pushed his hands into his pockets, rolling back on his heels.

“Willy-“ you began, moving closer again. You placed a hand against his abdomen, unconsciously toying with the end of his tie. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t stop you. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You could tell that his smile was forced and it made your heart physically hurt. “I should’ve known better than to just throw that out there, I know you scare easily.” He pressed a calm, reassuring kiss to your forehead, but you could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. Will once again stated that he wanted a drink, this time adding that he’d bring you back a glass of wine, before walking away. You stared after him, cursing yourself for hurting him.

~

“It’s fucking freezing out here.”

You turned your head to see William walking towards you, two glasses of wine in hand. One of them was almost empty, he placed the other one on the balustrade in front of you. After he left you on the dance floor you escaped through the balcony door, hiding out in the dark since. William didn’t sound mad, or particularly sad either for that matter, and you almost wondered if he had forgotten about the whole thing. He didn’t meet your gaze, but discarded his suit jacket and handed it to you without a word.

“You don’t-“

“Take it,” he interrupted you, not rudely but with a soft and determined voice. “I’m guessing you’re out here thinking and I’m not letting you freeze to death before we’ve had a chance to talk about it.”

He had not forgotten. With a sigh you accepted the jacket, slipping it on while quietly thanking him. You could feel him watch you for a bit before turning and leaning down over the railing, looking out over the dark garden. You did the same, sipping carefully on your wine.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked after a while. You closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” When you didn’t answer him William sighed. He shuffled closer, until your arms were touching, and bumped into you softly. “It’s fine babe. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know better than to surprise you like that.”

You knew he was trying to make you feel better, to shift some of the blame from your shoulders to his, but his words only made you spiral.

“You said that earlier too.” You put you glass down and turned enough to look at him. Will raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that? Do you always feel like you have to think about what you say to me?”

Your boyfriend watched you for a second, contemplating how to handle the question. With a slight shrug he turned to lean his back against the railing, eyes still on you.

“I don’t know. Maybe a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because you react the way you do. The first time I called you my girlfriend you didn’t talk to me for a week.”

“You were on a roadtrip.” You tried to defend yourself but the look William gave you had you press your lips shut again.

“You didn’t answer my calls. When I told you I love you for the first time you freaked out too, asking me to take it back for days before you finally accepted it.” He reached to grab his wineglass, taking a sip. You stared at him for a few seconds before you had to look away, trying to comprehend what he was saying. You knew you had the occasional trouble with, say feelings, but you hadn’t realized that it was so obvious until now. Your boyfriend was standing right next to you, calling you out for being emotional unavailable, and you felt the familiar feeling of utter disgust for yourself settle in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You said again. Will turned his head to look at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“For what?” He asked again and you had trouble deciphering his voice. He could be mad, or sad, or completely unbothered.

“For being difficult.”

Things were quiet for a second before Will moved. At first you thought he was walking away but then he placed his glass down before pushing away from the railing. A moment later he was standing right in front of you, hands smoothing down your arms before they landed on your hips.

“Look at me.” You shook your head, but William squeezed your hips to let you know he wouldn’t budge. “Look at me.” When you finally did he was staring down at you, the softest expression on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to be so-“ you started, but William hushed you with a gentle shake of his head.

“Listen to me.” When he could tell you weren’t going to disrupt him he began, voice mellow and sweet. “You’re not difficult. Peculiar? Yes. Confusing? Sometimes. Jumpy? Sure. But not difficult. Sure, sometimes I wish that you felt secure enough to not have to second guess me, or us, or anything else. But you do, and I know you do, and I know you can’t help it. It’s not difficult, it’s the way you are and I love you, apprehensiveness and all.”

“But I don’t want you to have to catch yourself before you speak around me.” You sighed.

“I don’t. Or, well I kind of do. Sometimes. Rarely.” When you didn’t seem convinced he reached up to gently cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheeks. “Look. Sometimes I refrain from saying certain stuff because I know it’ll make you anxious. Sometimes you do the same to me, like after a bad game, right? It doesn’t bother me. Think of it like proof of how well we know each other, how much we care.” Your eyes flickered between his for a moment and you knew he was being genuine. When you offered a small nod, showing him you accepted the explanation, he smiled. William wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his body, and you tucked your head in underneath his chin.

“You’re so good.” You mumbled, hands gripping his shirt. “Too good.” You really meant it. You’d never thought you’d find someone like him, someone so soft and kind and gentle and funny and understanding. He was the whole package, everything you needed.

William hummed, pressing a few kisses against the top of your head. “You’re pretty good too, you know.”

[sc0tters]

Summers With You | William Nylander

summary: when people think that you and William aren't spending summer together, you are quick to prove them wrong.

request: a social media post about a summer in sweden with Willy - anon

authors note: this is the first time that I have gotten a chance to write something really for willy before and we have a few soft launch requests throughout this event so I wanted to do something a little different for this one! a reminder that if you want to look at more of the one shot wonder event, you can see the rest of the event here!

willynylander has posted!

liked by alexnylander, rasmussandin and others

willynylander: recharging

marner_93: the day that you give us more than a one word caption, I'm dead

↳ willynylander: don't go giving me ideas now

user974: have they really really broken up?

↳ user954: they were really cute too

↳ user781: hey we now get a hot willy summer!!

ella.nylander: you are never coming with me to another concert again

↳ willynylander: we both know there is someone else I want to be going with

liked by youruser

user920: willy is not with his wifey?

↳ user785: because he probably got bored of her ass?

↳ user668: don't look too hard now, your jealousy is showing

youruser has posted!

liked by ella.nylander, paigelorenze and others

youruser: stockholm

austonmatthews: your captions are literally like your boyfriends

↳ youruser: he has taken me over to the dark side 😔

↳ willynylander: it isn't my fault I influenced you 😙

↳ youruser: anyone want a boyfriend? I have one for sale!

↳ willynylander: you wound me

↳ marner_93: i'll buy you willy

↳ stephhmarner: anyone want a husband? I have one for sale!

liked by youruser

tatemcrae: gorgeous girl 💗

liked by willynylander

↳ youruser: love you 😘

user202: she has to be with willy, that is his sister!

↳ user585: she deserves better than him

↳ user452: no i am pretty sure he looks at her like she is his world

liked by youruser

user899: where is the couple content we all want and need girl 😫

youruser has posted!

liked by morrgs, tessavirtue17 and others

youruser: my world 🌎

morganrielly: you have just gone and killed half of willys fanbase

↳ youruser: a sacrifice worth making to show my man off

↳ user858: she is so down bad and I don't even blame her

willynylander: I love you

↳ youruser: I like you too 😆

↳ willynylander: anyone want a girlfriend? I have one for sale!

↳ youruser: we both know you would want me back way too fast

ella.nylander: you and your boyfriend make me sick

↳ youruser: me and my boyfriend are cute *

↳ austonmatthews: you now see what we put up with very day in the season

↳ youruser: okay then why are you always at ours 🤨

↳ user472: wait they live together??

willynylander has posted!

liked by jesperbratt, austonmatthews and others

willynylander: somewhere with you <3

youruser: I loved spending this summer with you 💗

↳ alexnylander: so can we send her back to Toronto?

↳ youruser: and you want to still live in our spare room 🤧

↳ willynylander: äiskling I loved spending the summer with you too

↳ user697: lmao I love how willy ignored Alex 😭

austonmatthews: okay now can you bring back my best friend?

↳ youruser: you talking to me or him??

↳ austonmatthews: did you buy me those bubs?

↳ willynylander: first thing she did when she landed

↳ austonmatthews: then Will return my best friend back to me

↳ youruser: that should hurt a lot more than it does

↳ user926: I actually love their friendship

user592: and to think we almost lost this couple-

[jackhues]

the giant stop sign - william nylander

notes: i hope you guys like this, fifth fic for 'it's the most wonderful time of the year' celly :)) also this takes place in toronto, i mentioned a blue banana market and kensington market in the fic - kensington is an area with lots of shops and the blue banana market is a shop where you can get a lot of things

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

part of naqia's end of the year celly!

gif not mine

"please tell me you didn't rip a stop sign out of the ground for this," you muttered to yourself.

william looked at you, back at the stop sign, then back at you, before shrugging. "okay, i won't tell you."

"william!" your eyes widened.

he laughed, his eyes crinkling as he shook his head. "have you seen a stop sign this huge out on the streets?"

he had a point. the stop sign was huge - looking more like a construction sign. and it was much larger than the ones out on the streets.

"did you buy that?" you asked this time. "where would you even find one of those?"

"i got it from the blue banana in kensington market," he answered. "you can get anything there."

it was true. there were so many things in that store, you had no doubt you could get a giant stop sign from there.

"are you done asking questions about my stop sign?" he asked. "i'd like to beat you at this race, now."

"it's not a race," you reminded him. "if it was, i'd beat you. i've got an actual sled, while you're using a stop sign."

"if you're so sure, let's make it a race," he smirked.

"absolutely not," you shook your head. "you're way too competitive."

despite being pretty laid back about most things, your boyfriend was still one of the most competitive people you knew. not only was he a hockey player, but he grew up with a lot of siblings - the combination making him a little more competitive than most.

"sure, sure," he nodded. "whatever you say."

you rolled your eyes, laughing as you set up your sled.

it'd snowed the night before, making the conditions perfect to go sledding. there was a high school with a large hill near your house, the place you grew up. being able to bring your boyfriend here was something you'd always hoped you'd be able to do.

there were no kids at the moment, which made sense considering it was early as hell. willy was a morning person, and you wanted to be the first to go down the hill.

"ready?" you asked him, adjusting your sled at the top of the hill.

"ready," he agreed.

"and.... go!"

the two of you kicked off your respective sleds (well, stop sign in william's case), rushing down the hill.

you laughed loudly as snow got caught in the front of william's stop sign halfway down, causing him to roll down the rest of the way.

unfortunately, you lost your balance because of how hard you were laughing, your sled turning sideways and throwing you off.

you and william looked at each other, laying near the bottom of the hill, and then your sleds, discarded somewhere above you. you giggled at the turn of events.

william laughed a little, making his way over and putting his hand out to help you up. you allowed him to help you up, keeping a snowball behind you. you smiled mischievously once you were on your feet, shoving the snowball in your boyfriend's face.

willy made a sound of disbelief, blinking rapidly as you ran away giggling.

"oh, it's on," he muttered, wiping the snow from his lashes.

you should've been nervous, especially considering his competitive streak. but at the moment, the only thing you could think of, was how happy you were to be doing this with him.

[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

[lightsoutmatthews]

I am so happy I found your blog! Your writing is so addictive. Can you do a story with Willy where him and reader get into their first big fight and she ends up crying in front of him for the first time? Willy feels so bad and becomes a big softy :)

Oh god, the length of this got so out of hand. I binge watched almost the entire third season of "Welcome to Wrexham" while writing that´s how long it took to bring all my thoughts to life. The creative juices have been flowing last night.

And thank you SO much for the compliments, I´m so so happy people enjoy my writing 🙏🏼

I just want to feel like you care – William Nylander

You weren’t even sure how it started. The tension had been building for a while, you just never realized until it actually exploded.

William had been away on a road trip, you had been stuck working late almost every night, a somewhere along the line your texts to each other had started to shrink from full conversations to a few tired words here and there.

The day he returned he came through the door a little after 9 pm, dropped his bad by the wall next to the door and mumbled a “hey” as he walked straight to the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water. No hug. No kiss. Not even a smile like he was happy to see you.

You watched him from the couch, your heart dropping at the lack of acknowledgement. You hadn’t expected fireworks or anything, but something more than a “hey”. A sign that he had missed you as much as you had missed him.

After considering your options for a second you stood and followed him into the kitchen, arms crossed.

“Hey,” you said, voice hesitant. “How was the trip?”

“Long,” he replied. “Glad it´s over.”

You nodded slowly “I missed you.”

He gave you a tried half-smile in return, leaning against the counter. “Yeah. Same.”

And that was that.

You wanted, hoping he would say something else. Ask about your week. Notice how drained you looked but instead, he pushed away from the counter and walked back to the living room, grabbing the remote as he sat on the couch.

That was when something in you snapped.

“That’s it?” you asked, following him again. “You´ve been gone for over a week and all I get is a “hey” and a “yeah, same”?”

William blinked, clearly caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “I´m tired, babe. Can we not do this right now?”

“Do what exactly?” you shot, sharper than intended. “Have a normal conversation? Be excited to see each other?”

“I am happy to see you, but I just got home, like, ten minutes ago. Can I sit down for five seconds?” he argued, voice tired, like he didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“No. You had a week full of minutes, William. I´ve barely heard from you. You couldn’t even send a full sentence in a text.”

Now he glared at you. “Why are you coming at me like this?”

“I´m not coming at you,” you underlined the words with air quotes. “I´m trying to connect with you because I missed you and you act like I´m a burden for just talking.”  

He rubbed his eyes, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. “Don’t twist it. You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t because from where I´m standing, you walked in here, barely looked at me, and now I´m somehow the bad guy for wanting more than a grunt and a “same” from my boyfriend after he didn’t see me for a week,” you elaborated, trying to not get your voice to rise, but you were failing miserably.

“I didn’t say you were the bad guy. I said I´m tired. Can that be enough for once?” he grunted.

You stared at him, heart pounding, blood rushing in your ears. You tried to stay calm, have a leveled discussion about this, but his lack of interest in talking about this and lack of understanding your point was getting to you. “Do you even want to be here?”

His head snapped up and back towards you. “What kind of question is that?”

“A serious one,” you shot back. “Because I feel like I´m the only one trying half the time. I call, you´re busy, not even telling me what exactly you´re busy with. I text and you give one-word answers hours later. Now, you come home and act like I´m part of the furniture.”

He stood up, shaking his head but facing you head on. “I said I was tired. I´m doing my best.”

“Your best? This is your best?” you scoffed.

“I´ve been on the road, sleeping four hours a night back-to-backs, and now I come home, and you jump down my throat.”

“Excuse me?” you gasped.

“It´s always the same stuff.” he said, gesturing vaguely. “You always push, always pick at stuff until it blows up. I can´t even walk in the door without being interrogated.”

You blinked, stunned trying to process what he was saying. “Interrogated?” you paused for a second before speaking again. “I asked how your trip was.”

“It´s the way you ask,” his voice slightly raised. “Like you are just waiting for me to mess up.”

Your eyes widened. “I´m not waiting for you to mess up, William. I´m waiting for you to show me that you give a shit about this relationship.” You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the emotions that were making their way up your body. Trying to blink the tears that were picking at the corner of your eyes away.

“Of course I give a shit,” he snapped. “Why would I be here if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” you argued back, crossing your arms like you could use them as armor against his words. “Because lately it feels like I´m holding this together with duct tape and hope.”

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Oh, come on. Don’t be dramatic.”

And that was the moment. You blinked once, then again a second later.

You felt your throat tighten, heat behind your eyes. You turned away so he would see, but the tears pushed forward too fast.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, trying to push it down, but your voice cracked when you spoke. “Don’t call me that.”

Before he could answer you were already walking again, past him, down the hall to the bedroom.

“Wait, babe, please,” he rushed out, following behind.

“Don’t” you said without looking at him. “Don’t follow me right now.”

But he did. He reached the bedroom doorway just as you stood by the dresser, breathing hard, you back to him.

He froze. “Wait… are you crying?”

You kept your back to him, whipping at your face. “Yeah, I guess congratulations are in order. You´ve never seen that before.”  

The sound of your voice, quiet and shaky, seemed to break something in him. He stepped forward, but you moved away. “Hey, please look at me.”

“Don’t,” you mumbled. “Don’t act surprise and don’t come over here and act like you didn’t just dismiss everything I said.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you didn’t miss how his voice was much softer now. “I wasn’t thinking. I swear to God, I was just pissed, and I-?”

You turned around, eyes red, still whipping at them to not make him see the worst of it. “I´ve never cried in front of you before, because you never gave me a reason to. Do you know that? I´ve been upset, year, frustrated too, but this? This is new. And it is because of you. You made me feel small,” you said, still not turning around. “You made me feel like I was annoying for giving a damn about us.”

Now you turned to face him. Your eyes were red, your voice think. Williams face fell. “I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you,” he argued but you just shook your head.

“That’s the problem, William. You didn’t realize, because you haven’t been paying attention. I hate crying in front of people.” You mumbled. “I hate it and I especially hate that it is because of you.”

His shoulders dropped like he had taken a punch to the gut. “I know. I know, and I am sorry. I – shit – I wasn’t thinking. You didn’t deserve that, not even a little bit.”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it. I don’t want some grand apology. I wanted you to walk through the door and see me. To act like I´m your person and not an obligation to deal with after a long road trip.”

He stepped forward again, slower this time. “I see you now,” he uttered quietly. “And I hate that I didn’t earlier. I hate that I made you feel like this. I´ve been in my own head, stressed, tired, distracted with the season, but none of that excuses making you feel like you don’t matter to me, because you do. You matter so much to me.”  

You said nothing, arms hanging limp at your sides now. Sleeves of his hoodie you were wearing wet from you whipping your tears away. “Then why does it always feel like I have to fight to matter?”

His brows furrowed. “You don’t. You shouldn’t have to, I´ve just been selfish. I get home and I shut down, and you end up carrying the weight for both of us.”

You nodded slowly. “I´m not sustainable, William. I can´t always be the one who tries.”

He looked down at the floor, then back to you. “You said it feels like you´re holding this together by yourself and I believe you. And I am sorry for making you feel alone in something that’s supposed to be both of us.”

You exhaled, finally letting your shoulders relax a little.

“I´m not asking for everything to be prefect,” you mumbled. “I just want to feel like you´re with me. Like I´m not reaching out into nothing every time I try.”

He closed the gap completely now and gently took your hand. “You´re not reaching into nothing. I´ve been here, but I know I haven’t been here. And that’s on me.”

Not knowing what to say you looked down at your joined hands. His thumb rubbed slow circles against you, calming you in a way it probably shouldn’t after what just happened.

“I hate that I made you cry,” he said, now his voice cracking just the tiniest bit. “That´s going to stick with me. I don’t want to be that guy. The one that takes you for granted. You deserve someone who shows up. Someone who listens and I want to be that person. I just… I need to do better, and I will.”

You still didn’t know what to say, but your silence was softer now. He gently pulled you into a hug, and this time you let him. You melted into his chest, and he held you like he didn’t want to let go, like he needed the contract just as much as you did.

“I´m sorry and I love you,” he whispered. “Even when I don’t act like the way I should. I love you, and I´m going to do better.” He took a short pause, taking in a deep breath, you head lifting on his chest as he did so. “You´re not dramatic, you´re just asking for the love you deserve.”

You sniffed, his words hitting you harder than you expected, because that was exactly what you wanted. “I didn’t want this to turn into a whole thing. I just wanted you to look at me like you missed me as much as I missed you.”

He kissed your temple. “I did miss you, so much, sleeping alone in hotel rooms instead of next to you is painful. I´m sorry I didn’t show it. I turned it into a fight because I couldn’t handle how right you were.”

You stood like that for a while, holding each other in the quiet of the living room. No yelling. No bitterness left. Just two people trying to meet in the middle again because at this point you believed that you could.

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

The next morning you woke up to the smell of toast. You sat up groggily, rubbing your eyes. William wasn’t in bed, but you heard quiet clattering from the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he walked in with a tray. Scrambled eggs, toast, strawberries, and a sticky note that read: I see you, and I love you and I´m sorry. In his scrambly handwriting.

You looked up at him, surprised.

“I know it´s not much,” he opened, placing the tray on the bed next to you carefully. “But I wanted to start today differently.”

You stared at the note, not really knowing what to say. A lump rose in your throat again, but this time it wasn’t painful.

He slid back into bed beside you, careful to not make the tray tip, tucking the blanket around your legs.

“I know I can´t erase last night,” he said softly. “But I want to start showing you that I´m here. That I want to be here and that I won´t let the stress of the season get in here. I want to be better, for real this time.”

You nodded, reaching for his hand. “Like I said last night, I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just want to feel like you care.”

“I do,” he immediately answered. “More than anything.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, letting out a breath. He placed a kiss to the top of your head.

This didn’t fix everything, but it was a start and you hoped the two of you could build on it.

[laurenairay]

so tell me to leave - W. Nylander

Summary: once is an accident, twice is coincidence, and three times is a pattern. You really needed to stop falling into bed with your ex-boyfriend William.

Happy (early) birthday @cellythefloshie – here is my entry for your birthday bingo celebrations! I managed to hit bingo too, with: one night stand, pining, quickie, ex’s to lovers, autumn birthday. I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: implied smut (off screen), poor communication, William being a flirt, William being an idiot.

Title from July, by Noah Cyrus

~

“This was a mistake.”

“Good morning to you too, käraste.”

You huffed, moving his arm away from your waist so you could get out of his bed. It took all of your strength not to roll your eyes as you saw blatantly check out your bare body.

“I’m serious, William. This can’t happen again,” you said firmly, shimmying back into your dress from last night, eyes desperately searching for your panties.

Three times would be a pattern, after all.

“Ouch, full name before coffee,” he groaned, “Just come back to bed, it’s so early.”

“Not going to happen,” you shot back, giving up on the lost panties in lieu of getting out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

You had other underwear at home – the sacrifice of one black lacy pair wasn’t the end of the world. Even if they were his your favourite. The longer you stayed here, the likelier you were to crack. You knew it. William knew it. It was a downside of having dated him for three years – he knew you far too well. Three months as exes was hardly going to change that all that quickly.

“I missed you this summer,” he murmured, propping his head up with a hand, bicep unfairly bulging.

“You looked like you were having plenty of fun in the UK, I doubt you missed me,” you snorted, picking your phone up from the floor.

The moment those words left your lips, you knew it was a mistake with how his face lit up in delight.

“And there I thought you’d deleted me from your social media,” he grinned.

Ass.

“I have,” you said dryly, “But I still follow your brother.”

His grin dimmed slightly, but he just shook his head.” You always did like Alex more than me.”

You just rolled your eyes. It wasn’t difficult to like his brother more than him right now – Alex wasn’t the one who’d left you in pieces.

“I have things to do, people to see. Or is it things to see, people to do? I always get that mixed up,” you said simply, eyes wide and innocent.

William just snorted. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

“You broke mine first.”

He inhaled sharply, his composure visibly cracking, before a smooth grin slid over his lips. “I’ll see you soon, käraste.”

You hated how the words made your heart flutter.

~

From: DO NOT ANSWER I believe these are yours? [image]

Your jaw dropped at the message your received three days after the night you’d sworn to forget. The lost black lace panties. He’d had them all this time?

To: DO NOT ANSWER You thief. Why did you keep those?

Your eyes darted over to your coworkers, exiting out of the message thread with William while you waited for a response. The last thing you wanted was for them to see your waylaid underwear on your screen.

From: DO NOT ANSWER I didn’t keep them on purpose. Don’t you remember I shoved them in the back pocket of my jeans when I dropped to my knees by the front door? I definitely remember.

Your cheeks flushed with heat. Of course you remembered his hungry gaze looking up at you and the way he muscled his shoulders in between your thighs. How could you possibly forget that?

To: DO NOT ANSWER You are the worst. I want those back.

His quick response left you breathless.

From: DO NOT ANSWER You want them? Come and get them.

~

“You know, when I said come and get them, I didn’t necessarily mean straight after you finished work. That’s got to be a record for how fast I’ve gotten you from my front door to screaming my name,” William mused.

He just had to ruin the moment.

You lifted your head from the pillow, glaring down at him and squirming as he dug his chin into your belly button, your bare thighs framing his face like the artwork it was.

“And have you keep them like a weird trophy? No thank you,” you shot back, ignoring the jibe about the lightning-fast speed of your rendezvous.

He just cackled, smacking a kiss to your bare hip before rolling out of your hold. You shivered at the lack of body warmth, trying to keep your cool as he crawled up beside you to thump himself down on the pillow next to yours.

“I know you miss me, käraste.”

Something about the way he looked into your eyes, skin all flushed from your recent activities and a small smile on his lips – well, it left you feeling vulnerable.

“William,” was all you could murmur.

“I miss you,” he said firmly, “I miss you so much and I’m pretty sure my whole family is sick of me talking about you.”

He talked about you to his family still?

He missed you?

“You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?” you said shakily, pulling the sheets up to cover your chest.

“And I regret it every day. I was an idiot,” he said softly.

“You can’t just say these things! It isn’t fair!” you groaned, sitting upright.

William sat up next to you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I know okay, I know. But I’m holding onto hope that you still miss me too! This is the third time we’ve fallen into bed together since we broke up. The first, when you came to pick up your belongings before I left for summer – once is an accident. But the second time three days ago? Twice is coincidence. Three times now…well, it’s a pattern. Three times when I didn’t deserve it, you still graced my bed with your presence. So I’m sorry if I’m not making things fair right now, but this is hard on me too.”

He was pining. William Nylander was pining.

Tears stung at your eyes and you turned your head away from him, but he placed a hand on your thigh over the bedsheet, staying silent. As much as your hated to a admit it, he had a point. Three times was a pattern. But was it a pattern you needed to break, after the way he treated you?

“You tossed me aside like old trash, William. You broke up with me out of nowhere, when all I’ve ever done is love you, and support you, and care for you. All because I dared to smile when Steph and Mitch joked that I’d be the one walking down the aisle next. A joke. A simple joke, because we’d been together for three years and they could see how much I loved you. But that wasn’t enough for you, or it scared you, or whatever the hell it did to make you break my heart and run away,” you said angrily, tears making your voice watery.

William’s hand tightened on your thigh briefly before it slid away, and you finally looked back at him to see tears in his own eyes.

“You’re right. I panicked. I messed up the best relationship I’ve ever had because before you I’d never thought about marriage, not seriously. And then they brought it up and it was all I could think about and I spiralled and I panicked. I’m sorry, käraste. I’ll never be able to make up for how sorry I am.”

Your lips parted in surprise at the raw emotion in his words, speechless for once. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and he took a shaky breath before smiling sadly.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry for breaking your heart, and I’m sorry that my insecurities and panic took control. I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, let alone even having you here right now, but I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I mean it. I love you. I love you and I miss you,” he murmured.

He loved you.

He loved you and he missed you.

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks at the honesty in his words, every ounce of him genuine and soul-destroying. A whimper tore from your throat at the very thought of him still loving you, and it was all you could do to clutch at his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in the gentlest of kisses, barely able to catch your breath as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” you managed to choke out.

William smiled sadly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaning backwards to look into your eyes properly.

“Is there any chance that you can forgive me, and give me a second chance? Even the slightest sliver of hope?” he asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“I don’t know if I could cope with that kind of heartbreak again,” you said hesitantly.

He let out a shaky breath but nodded. “I understand.”

If ever there was a time to trust your gut, now was it.

“It would take a lot for me to trust you again.”

His lips parted, a stunned expression seeping across his face.

“And we shouldn’t sleep together until I feel like you won’t break my heart again.”

“You mean…”

He trailed off, eyes wide as he ran his hand over his hair.

You winced. “If that’s a deal breaker then-”

“No no no you’ve given me hope, don’t stop now,” William grinned, making you huff out a laugh, “It’s your birthday next week right? Do you have any plans yet?”

“I don’t have any plans yet, no. Why?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Where was he going with this?

“Let me take you out for dinner. There’s this great Thai place that’s just opened up. They use seasonal produce and I’ve heard their fall menu is incredible. There’s no-one I’d rather go with, other than you. So let me take you out for your birthday, please?”

“You want to take me out for my birthday?” you asked, surprised.

“I want to take you out on a date. It just so happens that I can spoil you for your birthday at the same time. I want to treat you just like you deserve, käraste, just as I should’ve always treated you. And you deserve the world.”

How could you say no to that?

“You only get one second chance,” you warned him, unable to stop the smile that spread over your lips.

“That’s all I need. I’m going to make this up to you, I promise,” he grinned.

[misshoneyimhome]

It’s been a while since we’ve had some Dad!Willy, and with all the recent requests, it felt like the perfect time to bring him back ❤️ So here’s a little heartwarming blurb just for you 🥰 Hope you enjoy it!

Inspired by this request

Tropes & warnings: no warnings, except once again overload cuteness! Dad!Willy x reader, toddler!Eliot, pregnant!reader

Word count: 1.1K

➼｡ﾟ

Golden Hour Stroll | William Nylander

The evening air was crisp, the lingering warmth of an autumn sun casting a golden hue over the park. The sky had begun to soften into a gradient of pinks and oranges, blending seamlessly into the deepening blue of twilight. It was the kind of fall evening that made everything feel just a little more magical—just a little more peaceful.

Eliot sat content in his stroller, his little feet kicking lazily in his bright green Crocs—or his “fast shoes,” as William liked to call them. He had insisted on wearing them today, even though they weren’t exactly necessary for a walk in the stroller. But then again, he was two years old and determined to make his own fashion choices now.

Beside the stroller, William strolled along in his signature offseason fit—a loose t-shirt, tiny athletic shorts that barely reached mid-thigh (something you always teased him about), and his backward cap sitting just snug enough to let his wild curls spill out. He radiated effortless confidence, the kind that made your heart flutter despite having been together for years.

And yet, the best part wasn’t how good he looked—it was the way his hand reached down instinctively, letting Eliot grasp onto his pinky finger as they walked.

Your little boy had been reaching out for minutes, letting out soft, impatient sounds to get his dad’s attention. And as soon as William let their fingers intertwine, Eliot let out a satisfied sigh, his tiny blue eyes full of admiration as he looked up at him.

William chuckled softly, glancing down at him. “Ah, so now you want to hold my hand, huh?”

Eliot nodded dramatically, gripping tighter, and William’s heart completely melted.

You watched them from beside the stroller, one hand resting over your growing belly. A soft smile played on your lips as you took in the moment—your two favorite people in the world, perfectly in sync.

“Look at you,” you teased lightly, bumping your elbow against William’s arm. “Dad of the Year.”

William smirked, giving Eliot’s little hand another squeeze. “Obviously,” he said, flashing you a playfully smug look. “The guy’s obsessed with me.”

At that, Eliot babbled something unintelligible but nodded as if he completely agreed.

You rolled your eyes, unable to contain your laughter. “I think he just doesn’t want to let you out of his sight. He knows you’re a flight risk.”

William gasped dramatically. “A flight risk?” He looked at Eliot. “You hear that, bud? Mom doesn’t trust me.”

Eliot, ever the daddy’s boy, scrunched his face in dramatic offense.

You smirked, placing both hands on your baby bump, your growing belly already making evening walks slightly more exhausting than you wanted to admit. “Well, considering you tried to convince me to take tequila shots in Saint Tropez two summers ago while we were trying for this one—” you nodded toward your belly, “—yeah, I think I have a pretty solid case.”

William chuckled, shaking his head as his hand instinctively found your belly, rubbing slow, affectionate circles over the fabric of your sweater. “Hey, I didn’t know we’d actually get lucky that fast,” he defended. “Besides, tequila shots? That was before you were officially pregnant. And we were celebrating.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you leaned into his touch anyway, heart warming at the way he cradled your growing bump so naturally.

“Still,” you hummed, nudging him again. “Not exactly father of the year behavior.”

William scoffed, switching his grip on Eliot’s hand so he could wrap his free arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer as you continued walking. “Yeah? Well, last time I checked, I’m the one who brings you snacks and rubs your feet every night.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, fair point.”

Eliot, still holding William’s pinky, let out a giggle, happy just to be part of the conversation.

William chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before whispering, “I’m winning this argument.”

You groaned dramatically, but deep down, you knew he totally was.

“Think he’ll be too big for this next summer?”

Your voice was softer now, watching as Eliot kicked his legs over the edge of the stroller, still holding onto his dad.

William hummed, glancing down at him before shaking his head. “Nah, I think we’ve got a little longer before he ditches the stroller completely. But once he does? We’re gonna be running after him non-stop.”

You sighed dramatically, rubbing your belly. “God, I’m not ready for two of them running around.”

William grinned. “Well, I tried to warn you before we made this one,” he teased, patting your belly.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, swatting at his arm. “You begged me for baby number two.”

William laughed, completely unashamed. “Yeah, yeah. Guilty as charged.”

Eliot looked up at you both with curious blue eyes, soaking in the conversation like he somehow understood it all. Then, as if on cue, he babbled something incoherent before pointing at your belly.

William grinned. “See? Even he knows he’s getting a little brother.”

Your heart melted. “You think he understands?”

“Maybe not all of it,” William admitted. “But he knows something’s changing. He’s been extra clingy with you lately.”

You smiled softly, watching Eliot tighten his grip around his dad’s finger. “Guess he wants to make sure we don’t forget he’s still the baby.”

William leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Eliot’s forehead. “You’ll always be our baby, bud. You just gotta share the spotlight a little, that’s all.”

Eliot scrunched his nose, considering it—then nodded dramatically, as if agreeing to the terms.

You laughed. “Well, that was easy.”

William smirked, squeezing Eliot’s little hand. “See? He’s a team player already.”

“So, what do you think?”

You turned to William, curious.

He tilted his head. “About what?”

You bit your lip. “This time next year. You, me, and two little Nylanders instead of one.”

William’s expression softened, and for a moment, the teasing vanished. Instead, he squeezed your shoulder gently, looking at you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him.

“I think it’s gonna be perfect.”

You felt the warmth spread through your chest as you leaned into him, placing your free hand over his.

And as the three of you continued strolling down the path, the golden light fading into soft blue, you realized he was right.

Life was about to get a little more chaotic. But with William by your side, Eliot holding onto his dad’s hand, and baby Lucas growing inside you, you knew one thing for sure—

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[daeniradraconis]

"I want to hear you beg for it, and don’t even think about holding back." With Willy Nylander 🔥

Thank you for your request! I hope you will love this. 💖 I'm also working on the other requests—I’ve got a few lined up, so please be patient! ✨

--- Winter Heat

The drive to the cabin had been a power play—William’s hand firm on the wheel while the other roamed your body like it belonged there, fingers teasing, claiming. His grip tightened on your thigh, sliding up just enough to make you shiver before retreating, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Every now and then, he shot you a knowing glance, blue eyes gleaming brighter than the snow piling up outside, a silent promise of what was coming.

“You’re already squirming,” he mused, voice low and cocky, smirking as his fingers squeezed just a little harder. “Can’t even wait ‘til we get there, huh?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but that only made him chuckle, that deep, taunting sound that made your pulse quicken.

By the time you reached the cabin, the sky had darkened, the snow falling in soft, lazy drifts. Inside, the fireplace roared, throwing a golden glow over the room, but William’s focus was already elsewhere. The hot tub on the balcony, steam curling into the cold night air, was calling him—and you.

He kicked the door shut behind you and, without hesitation, pulled his sweater over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside as if it had somehow wronged him. His smirk was wicked as he went for the rest—pants, briefs, all of it—until he stood before you, gloriously naked, all lean muscle and shameless confidence.

“No clothes in my house,” he declared, voice smooth but edged with command. His gaze pinned you like a predator toying with its meal. “You too, älskling. Strip. Now.”

You hesitated—not out of shyness, but because you wanted to make him wait.

Bad idea.

William’s expression darkened. He closed the space between you in two slow, deliberate steps, his warmth brushing against your chilled skin. His hands, unyielding and sure, found your jacket, dragging the zipper down with agonizing patience. He leaned in, lips barely ghosting your jaw.

“Don’t test me,” he warned, voice dropping into a growl. “You know I don’t mind ripping things.”

Your breath hitched. Fingers shaking slightly, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and peeled it over your head, the fabric slipping to the floor. You held his gaze as you unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down inch by inch. He watched like a man starving, his breath hitching just enough to betray him.

When you stood bare under his heated stare, the corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s more like it,” he murmured, his hand sliding possessively down your side. “I don’t fuck around with textiles—inside or out. You know that.”

His grip was firm but teasing as he seized your wrist, dragging you toward the balcony. The cold bit at your exposed skin instantly, snowflakes melting against your fevered flesh, but William didn’t flinch. He stepped into the steaming water first, muscles flexing as he lowered himself in. The water lapped at his broad chest, mist curling around his skin like it worshiped him.

Then he patted his thigh, eyes glinting with command.

“In. Now.”

You obeyed, slipping into the scalding water, but before you could even settle, his hands were on you—firm, commanding. In one swift, effortless motion, he pulled you onto his lap, his cock pressing against you, hot and teasing, grinding just enough to make you gasp.

Then—he stilled.

A cruel pause. A deliberate torment. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh as he held you there, right there, his cock nudging at your entrance without giving you what you needed.

His breath was slow, measured, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “Not enough for you, huh?” His voice was pure sin, low and taunting. “Then get up.”

Your brows furrowed, but he wasn’t asking. His hands moved with effortless strength, guiding you, forcing you to turn.

“Bend over,” he ordered.

He maneuvered you until you were facing the terrace window, gripping the edge of the hot tub with shaky hands. The cold air bit at your wet skin, but the heat of his body behind you was suffocating.

A shiver ran down your spine, but not from the cold. From the way he watched you—like he was taking his time, savoring every second of control he had over you.

His hands skimmed over your ass, possessive and slow. Then—crack.

You gasped as the sharp sting of his palm landed on your ass, heat blooming instantly.

“Fuck, look at that,” he murmured, rubbing over the mark he left before delivering another sharp slap, making you jolt. “So fucking pretty when you take it.”

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the tub, heat pooling between your legs. He knew exactly what he was doing—teasing you, testing how long you could last before you broke.

As you shifted slightly, your gaze caught his reflection in the glass. His chest was bare, the soft glow from the lights catching the faint blonde hairs across his strong chest. He looked even more dangerous like this—his eyes dark, watching you intently as if he couldn’t wait any longer. The way his body moved, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he adjusted behind you—there was something raw and undeniable in the way he held himself.

He looked like a god—blonde and rugged, all raw masculinity that made you ache with desire just by existing.

His cock pressed between your thighs, hot and heavy, sliding through your slick folds. Just enough to make you ache.

Then—nothing.

Just the thick head of his cock resting against you, teasing, taunting, while his breath ghosted over your back.

“You know what I want,” he murmured, voice dark with amusement. His grip tightened on your hips, holding you in place. “I want to hear you beg for it, and don’t even think about holding back.”

Your pride warred with your desperation, but the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“Willy—” you started, voice shaky, but he just waited, cock resting right there, his silence its own kind of torture.

Another sharp slap to your ass, harder this time. “Try again.”

You whimpered, gripping the tub tighter. “Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, Willy...fuck me. I need your cock so bad...I’m a needy little slut for it, please, just take me.”

His low, satisfied chuckle sent heat curling through your body.

“That’s my girl.”

Then—he thrust.

A brutal snap of his hips, stretching you open all at once. The force made your breath catch, your body jerking forward, but his grip on your hips kept you exactly where he wanted.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, the sound breaking into something rough and primal. He pulled back—then slammed into you again, the hot tub sloshing violently around you.

You clung to the edge, moaning helplessly as he took you, deep and ruthless. His hands gripped your hips so tightly it was almost bruising, dragging you back onto his cock with each powerful thrust.

His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “You feel that?” His voice was dark, breathless. “That’s me—filling you, ruining you.”

You could barely think, barely breathe, pleasure coiling hot and tight in your core.

One hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit with ruthless precision. “Gonna come for me?” he taunted, his voice rough with hunger. “Come all over my cock while I fuck you full?”

His thrusts turned desperate, erratic. He was close, just as wrecked as you.

"Do it," he growled, fingers pressing into you with relentless pressure. "Come for me. Milk my cock."

The demand sent you spiraling, your body shattering as pleasure exploded through you in a violent wave. You screamed his name, your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper. The intensity of it all left you breathless.

He groaned, the sound raw and desperate, and his hips snapped forward one final time, burying himself deep inside as he spilled into you. The uncontrollable force of it sent a surge of electricity through your veins, a raw thrill coursing through every inch of you.

For a moment, you both just stayed there—panting, the air thick with steam and heat. His grip on your hips remained firm, holding you steady as snowflakes melted against your overheated body. His breath scorched your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Then, his lips brushed your ear, voice gravelly, deep with satisfaction.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Your legs trembled, barely able to keep you upright as you clung to the edge of the hot tub, your body still pulsing from the aftershocks of your release. William remained behind you for a moment, his chest rising and falling against your back, his breath hot against your damp skin.

Slowly, he pulled out, making you gasp from the sudden emptiness

“Easy, älskling,” he murmured, voice softer now, his hands steadying you as he turned you in his arms.

Your body sagged against his, exhausted and pliant, and in one effortless motion, he lifted you from the water. You barely had the strength to protest, your arms looping lazily around his neck as he carried you inside, bare skin hot against the cool air.

The fire crackled in the living room, filling the room with a glow. William didn’t stop until he reached the couch, lowering you onto the cushions with the kind of care that made your chest ache.

“Stay,” he ordered, but this time, there was no edge to his voice—just warmth, just something deep.

You watched, as he grabbed a thick, plush blanket from the armrest and wrapped it around you, tucking it in tight. The scent of him clung to the fabric, woodsy and warm, and you sighed, sinking into it.

He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he had a towel in one hand and a damp cloth in the other.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Willy, you don’t have to—”

"Shh," he interrupted, his voice low and soothing. Kneeling beside you, he carefully lifted the blanket, his touch impossibly tender as he ran the cloth between your legs, carefully cleaning the mess he’d left inside you. His movements were slow, deliberate—each action marked by a quiet intensity, as though nothing existed in the world but you. "Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice rich with quiet authority.

You exhaled, your body melting further into the couch as he worked, slow and methodical, his fingers brushing over your skin with reverence.

Once he was done, he tossed the towel aside and cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You good?” he asked, voice quieter now, blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, too content to form words, and he smirked—this one small, private, meant just for you.

“Be right back.”

He vanished into the kitchen, and when he returned, he had two glasses of wine in hand. He passed you one before settling beside you, tugging you against his chest.

You curled into him instinctively, your cheek resting over his heart, listening to the steady beat beneath your ear.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The fire crackled, the snow continued to fall outside, and William traced slow circles on your arm.

Then, finally, he broke the silence, his voice hushed, teasing.

“You were wild for me. My perfect little dirty girl.”

You laughed, breathless and soft, and his grip on you tightened just a little—like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

And, honestly? You didn’t want him to.

[chukys-mouthguard]

good graces

you do something suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

featuring -> william nylander x female reader

genre -> angst/fluff

word count -> 1.35k

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

“Have you seen Willy on Spittin’ Chiclets yet?”

Your friend called to you from the kitchen as she started on making drinks while you were taking a bit longer on your makeup than you would’ve liked.

“Fuck I forgot, let me pull it up.”

You and William had been seeing each other for almost nine months now, though not putting a label on it things were pretty serious. Having taken numerous trips together, William constantly spoiling you, all while telling you he couldn’t imagine his life not getting to be your guy.

He’d gotten invited onto the Spittin’ Chiclets podcast and you were excited to watch. It was one of your favorite shows, but you also were anticipating them to ask William some hilarious questions.

“Okay so, we gotta ask. You’re a young guy here in Toronto, dare I say you’re a stud! What’s the dating scene like here in Toronto? You tied down by a lucky lady, what do you have going on?”

William chuckled as you quickly flashed your eyes to the screen of your cell phone, seeing the way he blushed at them asking the question. While you knew this podcast had been filmed several weeks ago, you were still aware of what his answer should be, at least from your perspective. But as he hesitated, and stumbled over his words you could feel your grip on your eyeliner tightening.

“Yeah um, I’m definitely here for a good time. Not really tied down, just enjoying my time here for sure with whoever comes into my life. But, I like to think I do alright for myself.”

Pausing the video you emerged from the bathroom to find your friend with the same look of shock on her face as you currently had on your own.

��Are you joking?”

“He’s fucking dead. Not really tied down? Is he stupid?”

You couldn’t believe William had actually said those words, not really tied down. Had the last nine months been something casual and meant nothing to him? Here you were ready to go out to dinner with him and some friends, but now all you could repeat through your brain was that interview.

“What are you gonna do?”

You headed over to the bar cart, grabbing a shot glass and the tequila. Throwing back a shot before you hurried back to finish your makeup.

“I can’t bail, but he’s going to see a side of me he won’t like if he doesn’t acknowledge it, that's for sure.”

You’d arrived at the restaurant, the few tequila shots you’d tossed back calming your frustrations a bit, though you were still upset with William. Not wanting to ruin the night you figured the least you could do was power through a dinner and not give away any sign you were unhappy with him.

But as the dinner unfolded, it was as if anything William did was coming across as suspect. The way he smiled at the waitress, calling her sweetheart anytime she’d checked in or brought him something. The way he would place his hand atop hers anytime she’d stop by the table and ask if he needed anything. Your anger only building as you thought back to his comments on the podcast, rolling your eyes thinking that everything with him was just a casual fling to him. Despite how much he’d meant to you.

He caught you staring at him from across the table, you’d opted to sit across from him versus next to him so you could give yourself a bit of space to try and give him the opportunity to notice your mood. But he didn’t necessarily catch on, acting as if things were normal other than where you’d chosen to sit.

With dinner wrapping up, you’d all chosen to go to one of the bars down the street. William now noticed how you were walking arm in arm with your friend rather than by his side. He called out to you, simply getting the cold shoulder as you elected to keep walking as if you hadn’t heard him. Your mind focused on getting to the bar and getting some more drinks in your system, needing to channel your frustrations through alcohol and dancing.

William opted to sit with the group, watching you dancing on the floor with your friend. Figuring that he’d done something to piss you off, but he didn’t know what. Usually the two of you could talk through things, but it was clear you had no desire to talk to him tonight. And he knew better than to push you or force anything on you, simply giving you the space you wanted.

His eyes followed you as you made your way to the bar, a guy soon approaching you as you ordered a drink. William fully expected you to kindly dismiss the man, but instead he saw you laughing and smiling. Your hand resting on the man’s forearm as you were clearly enjoying yourself. He tossed back his drink in frustration as he stood up, making his way to the bar to step in before you’d do anything further to really anger him.

“Hey, everything okay?”

William smiled down at you as he rested a hand at your lower back, flashing his eyes to the gentleman with a bit of a glare. Only to be met with a smile as the man had recognized the blonde haired Maple Leaf that stood before him.

“Yeah, William, you know Joey. Joey Loperfido, outfield for the Blue Jays. He’s actually a really big Leafs fan!”

“How are you man? I’m a big fan of yours as well! I was actually at the game last week, great win!”

The two of them shook hands, though Joey sensed some tension and kindly excused himself.

“Really Willy? I was making friends.”

“Friends? Is that what you called that? I saw from a mile away you were flirting with the guy!”

He scoffed as he rolled his eyes, taking the spot in front of you at the bar as he signaled the bartender for another drink.

“Like you care? This is just enjoying time with whoever comes into your life, remember?”

William looked at you confused, unsure as to what you were talking about. Making you laugh as you sipped your drink, rolling your eyes as you found it hilarious he was trying to play dumb.

“I heard you on the Spittin’ Chiclets podcast, don’t play dumb! Has the last nine months meant nothing to you? I mean, you tell me all the time how much you love being my guy, but could’ve fooled me with the answer you gave Biz and Whit.”

William immediately brought a hand to his face, groaning as he realized now what you were referring to.

“Y/n, baby, look at me.”

He brought his hands to your face, despite your trying to push him away. A smile on his face as he looked at you.

“The Spittin’ Chiclets podcast is the last place I would ever want to confirm or announce you as my girlfriend.”

Your eyes went wide hearing him call you his girlfriend, the title not being something he’d ever used before. And while you wanted to be mad at him for what he said, it was hard hearing how amazing it felt hearing him finally call you his girlfriend.

“Wait, like, we are official now? I’m your girlfriend?”

“If you’ll have me as your boyfriend? Though after tonight I’m not so sure.”

Quickly you pulled his lips to yours, feeling amazing to kiss him after being distant from him all night. He smiled into the kiss, assuming that was your answer. And it was a good enough answer for him.

“But so help me god William Nylander, if you ever say some dumb shit like that again, you do not want to bring out my mean side.”

He chuckled at your scolding as he stole another kiss from you.

“Oh trust me babe, tonight I got a taste of it tonight and I’m staying in your good graces if it’s the last thing I do!”

[brainddeadd]

Something Sparkling

buying matching jewllery, but it doesn't mean anything.. right?

The soft chime of bells rang as you pushed open the door to the quaint jewelry store, the sweet scent of vanilla lingering in the air. You looked around, your gaze landing on sparkling displays and colorful gems, but your mind was elsewhere—specifically on the tall figure beside you.

Auston Matthews leaned casually against the glass counter, his trademark smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He seemed effortlessly cool, wearing a simple black hoodie and jeans that accentuated his athletic build. You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a warm flutter in your chest.

“Okay, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing toward a case filled with delicate bracelets. “I think we should get matching ones. You know, for fun.”

Your heart raced at the suggestion. Matching jewelry? It felt oddly intimate. “You mean like a couple?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Just because they’re matching doesn’t mean it’s anything serious,” Auston shot back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just think it’d be cool.”

You couldn’t deny the thrill of the idea. It was playful, light-hearted, but deep down, you wondered if it meant more than he was letting on. “Sure, let’s do it,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

The sales associate approached, and you both began browsing the options. Auston picked up a thin silver bracelet adorned with small charms, each representing a different aspect of your lives—hockey pucks, music notes, even tiny hearts.

“What do you think?” he asked, holding it up against your wrist. “Too cheesy?”

“It’s perfect,” you replied, biting your lip to hide your smile. You watched as he chose one that mirrored yours, a matching charm bracelet that felt like a silent promise.

Once you had both settled on your pieces, Auston turned to you with a playful grin. “So, what’s the plan? Are we going to be those people who wear matching jewelry and take cheesy couple pictures?”

You chuckled, trying to brush off the surge of emotion. “As long as it doesn’t come with the ‘couple’ label, I’m in.”

As you both paid for the bracelets, you couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps this gesture was more meaningful than you wanted to admit. But you brushed it aside, convincing yourself that it was just a fun moment between friends—nothing more.

Later that night, you sat on his couch, the bracelets glinting softly in the dim light. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch his wrist, the cool metal reminding you of the day’s adventure.

“You know,” he said, glancing at your wrists, “I don’t think it’s that serious. It’s just jewelry.” His voice was teasing, but you caught a hint of something deeper behind his words.

“Right,” you replied, trying to match his light tone, but your heart raced. “Just jewelry.”

As the night wore on, you realized it was more than that—more than just a fun moment or a simple piece of jewelry. You both had crossed a line, and while the matching bracelets didn’t define your relationship, they certainly added a new layer to it.

And in that moment, as you laughed and talked about everything and nothing, you couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps, deep down, it meant everything.

The small café was warm and inviting, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You sat at a corner table, your laptop open but your mind elsewhere. The latest round of edits for a project sat untouched as you sipped your latte, glancing occasionally at the door.

When the bell above the entrance chimed, William Nylander walked in, shaking off the chill of the winter air. Spotting you, he made his way over, his signature grin lighting up his face. “Hey! Mind if I join?”

“Not at all,” you replied, closing your laptop with a sigh. “I could use the company.”

William settled into the seat across from you, his presence instantly making the space feel more lively. “So, what’s up? You seem a bit… distracted.”

You shrugged, swirling the foam in your cup. “Just thinking about things. You know, life stuff.”

“Life stuff?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You mean ‘Auston stuff’?”

A soft blush crept up your cheeks as you avoided his gaze. “Maybe…”

He leaned in, elbows on the table. “Come on, spill. What’s going on between you two?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I just… I like him. A lot. But I’m scared. What if it ruins our friendship? What if we can’t go back?”

William rolled his eyes playfully, but there was a seriousness in his tone. “Are you kidding me? You two are practically glowing around each other. It’s obvious you have something special.”

“Yeah, but…” You sighed, frustration bubbling up. “What if I ruin it? I don’t want to lose what we have.”

William leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re already losing it by not being honest. If you keep pretending everything’s fine, you’ll end up pushing him away. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen too many times.”

You felt your heart race at his words. “But what if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then at least you’ll know,” he said, his voice steady. “You’ll never have to wonder ‘what if.’ You’re holding onto this fear like it’s a life preserver, but it’s actually an anchor. Let it go.”

You shifted in your seat, grappling with the reality of what he was saying. “It’s just so complicated. I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Sometimes, the best things in life are complicated,” William said, his expression softening. “You and Auston have an amazing connection. You’re both scared, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth exploring.”

You bit your lip, considering his words. “What if it goes wrong?”

William shrugged. “Then you’ll deal with it, and you’ll grow. But if you never take the chance, you’ll always wonder what could have been. Don’t you want to find out?”

The weight of his encouragement was almost overwhelming, and you felt a flicker of hope. “I guess I do,” you admitted, the words feeling like a small but significant step forward.

“Good,” he said, leaning in again, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, go tell him how you feel. But maybe not here. You don’t want to make a scene in front of all these people.”

You laughed, the tension easing a bit. “Yeah, definitely not here. Maybe I’ll invite him for coffee later.”

William grinned, his infectious energy making you feel more confident. “That’s the spirit! Just be honest. You’ve got this.”

As he continued chatting, you felt the storm of uncertainty start to dissipate. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking and start embracing what was right in front of you.

Across the city, the faint sound of hockey highlights played in the background as Auston Matthews slumped onto his couch, his mind swirling with thoughts about you. He picked up the matching bracelets he had impulsively bought, admiring the simple yet elegant designs. Each one had a small charm that symbolized connection and unity, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you wearing it. But doubt crept in. Was he overthinking things?

Just then, the door swung open, and Mitch Marner walked in, casually tossing his jacket onto a chair. “Hey, man! You ready for some video games?” he asked, plopping down beside Auston.

“Yeah, just give me a second,” Auston replied, still lost in thought.

Mitch glanced at the bracelets in Auston’s hand and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that you got there?”

Auston hesitated, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Oh, just something I bought.”

Mitch leaned closer, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “Dude, you bought matching bracelets?”

Auston shot him a glare. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Mitch echoed incredulously, leaning back with arms crossed. “Come on, man. You know it is. You don’t just buy matching bracelets for someone unless it means something.”

“Does it?” Auston said, suddenly unsure of himself. “What if it’s just a friendship thing?”

Mitch chuckled, shaking his head. “Bro, you don’t buy matching bracelets for just friends. This isn’t high school. You clearly like her. So why are you playing games?”

Auston sighed, tossing the bracelets onto the coffee table. “I don’t want to ruin what we have. We’re friends, and I like it that way. What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Then you’ll know,” Mitch said, his tone turning serious. “But right now, you’re just avoiding the truth. You can’t keep pretending everything is fine when you’re clearly head over heels.”

Auston ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of Mitch’s words. “What if I tell her and she’s not interested? What then?”

Mitch leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then you handle it. You’re a grown man. You’re an NHL player for crying out loud! If she doesn’t feel the same, it’ll hurt, but you’ll get over it. What’s worse is letting this drag on and missing your chance.”

“But what if I push her away?” Auston asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Or what if you draw her closer?” Mitch countered, his eyes piercing through Auston’s hesitation. “Look, the longer you wait, the more complicated it gets. You’ve got to take the leap. You’re just making excuses because you’re scared.”

Auston dropped his gaze to the bracelets, feeling the weight of his decision. “You really think I should just tell her?”

“Absolutely,” Mitch replied, his voice steady. “You’ve already made the first step by buying those. Just be honest about how you feel. You don’t want to look back on this and regret not saying anything. Trust me.”

Auston sat in silence, Mitch’s words echoing in his mind. He took a deep breath, the reality of the situation settling in. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll talk to her.”

Mitch grinned, clapping Auston on the shoulder. “Good. And hey, if she doesn’t feel the same way, I’m sure you’ll find a way to work through it. But if she does, man, it’ll be worth it.”

With renewed determination, Auston grabbed the bracelets off the table and held them in his hand, finally ready to embrace the possibilities. “Thanks, Mitch. I needed that.”

“Anytime, buddy,” Mitch said with a smirk. “Now, let’s see if you can actually beat me at this game tonight.”

As they dove into the game, the earlier tension faded away, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Auston couldn’t shake the excitement brewing inside him; it was time to take a chance.

The following weeks flowed seamlessly into one another, the small silver bracelets becoming a part of your daily attire. Every time you glanced at your wrist, the little charms reminded you of that playful day with Auston, a day that felt deceptively simple yet so loaded with unspoken feelings.

The Toronto winter was beginning to settle in, and with it came the cozy nights in, filled with laughter, snacks, and your favorite movies. You often found yourself at Auston’s apartment, nestled under a blanket on his couch, the two of you enjoying each other’s company. The playful teasing about the matching bracelets became a running joke, yet the laughter never felt forced.

One evening, as you sat watching an old rom-com, you felt his gaze lingering on you. You turned to find him studying you with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

“What’s up?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Auston smirked, leaning back casually. “Just admiring the view.” His tone was light, but there was an underlying sincerity that caught you off guard.

“Yeah? And what exactly are you admiring?” You could feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, but you pushed through the playful banter.

“The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking,” he said, his eyes flickering down to your mouth, and you could swear you felt the atmosphere shift.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “I think you’re just seeing things, Matthews.”

“Nope,” he countered, shifting closer. “You’re a total distraction, you know that?”

With a nervous laugh, you tried to lighten the mood. “Right, and here I thought the distraction was supposed to be the movie.”

He chuckled softly, but you both fell silent as the dialogue on the screen faded into the background. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and you could feel the air thickening with unspoken words.

After a few seconds, Auston reached for his phone, breaking the tension as he scrolled through something. “Let’s see what’s happening in the world of hockey,” he said, shifting the conversation. But you could sense he felt it too—the tension that came from wearing those bracelets, each charm a reminder of your growing connection.

As the days turned into weeks, your friendship deepened. You spent evenings cooking together, taking long walks along the lake, and sharing your dreams and fears. The intimacy of your time together began to blur the lines, and with every playful touch and lingering glance, you felt something shift.

One night, you found yourselves sprawled out on the couch, empty takeout containers littered around you. The glow of the TV cast soft shadows, and the remnants of laughter still lingered in the air. Auston turned to you, a more serious look crossing his features.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was steady, but you could feel the weight of his question.

“Sure,” you replied, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

He hesitated, as if weighing his words. “What do you think about the bracelets? Like, do they mean anything to you?”

Your heart raced. You had been hoping for this moment, yet now that it was here, you felt the pressure of it all. “I mean… they’re fun. They remind me of you, of us. But I thought we agreed it doesn’t mean anything serious, right?”

“Right,” he replied, but the way he looked at you suggested he wasn’t convinced. “But sometimes, I wonder if we’re just lying to ourselves. We’re spending so much time together, and it feels like more than just a friendship.”

You bit your lip, considering your next words carefully. “What if we’re just caught up in the moment? The excitement, the thrill of it all?”

“Or maybe,” he said, leaning closer, “we’re just afraid to admit that this is something real. That we actually care about each other.”

Your pulse quickened. You felt the familiar pull toward him, the magnetic attraction that had been building since that day in the jewelry store. “Auston, I don’t want to complicate things. What if we end up ruining what we have?”

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your wrist, where the bracelet rested. “I don’t think it would ruin anything. I think it would make it better. But I also don’t want to rush you. I just want you to know that I’m here, and I’m interested—really interested.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies racing through your stomach. “I care about you too, Auston. But do you really think those bracelets mean something? That they could change everything?”

“Maybe they already have,” he replied, his eyes locked on yours, unwavering and earnest. “We can take it slow. I just want you to know I’m in this with you.”

The weight of his words sank in, and you realized that while the bracelets might have started as a fun, casual gesture, they had evolved into something significant. You felt a smile tug at your lips as you wrapped your fingers around his.

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling a rush of hope. “Let’s see where this goes.”

Auston grinned, the relief washing over his features. “I can work with that.”

As you settled back into the comfortable embrace of the couch, the flickering light of the TV seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, both ready to explore the uncharted territory of your relationship, hand in hand—each bracelet a shining reminder of the connection you were ready to embrace.

[faerieroyal]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ children born of fairy stock, never need for shirt or frock…

🧚🏻‍♂️ what/who i write for … 🧚🏻‍♂️

➺ golden trio era: harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, luna lovegood, ginny weasley, neville longbottom, fred weasley, george weasley, oliver wood, percy weasley, dean thomas, draco malfoy, theodore nott, mattheo riddle.

➺ marauders era: james potter, remus lupin, sirius black, poly!marauders, regulus black, lily evans, marlene mckinnon, dorcas meadowes, mary macdonald, evan rosier, pandora lestrange, andromeda black, narcissa black, poly!valkyries, frank longbottom, alice fortescue, poly!starchaser, poly!wolfstar.

➺ gilmore girls: jess mariano, rory gilmore, paris geller, luke danes, lane kim, lorelai gilmore.

➺ dead poets society: neil perry, todd anderson, charlie dalton, steven meeks, gerard pitts.

➺ criminal minds: spencer reid, aaron hotchner, emily prentiss, elle greenaway.

➺ marvel: peter parker (tasm or mcu), bruce banner, kate bishop, yelena belova (platonic, familial, or qpr requests only), bucky barnes, sam wilson, poly!sambucky, ava starr, loki laufeyson, druig, makkari, poly!drukkari, natasha romanoff, pietro maximoff, wanda maximoff, eddie brock, marc spector/steven grant/jake lockley, layla el-faouly.

➺ x-men: scott summers, jean grey, logan howlett, wade wilson, poly!deadclaws, hank mccoy, kurt wagner, alex summers.

➺ bridgerton: anthony bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, penelope featherington, eloise bridgerton, simon basset, kate sharma, edwina sharma, poly!kanthony.

➺ dc: bruce wayne, harley quinn, jason todd, dick grayson, tim drake, damian wayne (platonic or familial requests only), barbara gordon, cassandra cain, stephanie brown, clark kent, wally west, barry allen, pamela isley.

➺ newsies: jack kelly, “crutchie” morris, davey jacobs, spot conlon, racetrack higgins.

➺ formula one: charles leclerc, carlos sainz, max verstappen, logan sargeant, oscar piastri, lewis hamilton, fernando alonso, lance stroll, mick schumacher, alex albon, george russell, esteban ocon, yuki tsunoda, zhou guanyu.

➺ nhl hockey: quinn hughes, jack hughes, luke hughes, nico hischier, william nylander, matthew knies, joseph woll, sidney crosby, leon draisaitl, jeremy swayman, brock faber, jake middleton, matt boldy, jamie drysdale, nick suzuki, cole caufield, arber xhekaj, juraj slafkovsky, matty beniers, shane wright, jared mccann, joey daccord, adam larsson.

➺ the hobbit (movies): thorin oakenshield, thranduil, kíli durin, fíli durin.

➺ horror: poly!ghostface (billy loomis & stu macher), jason voorhees, michael myers, daniel robitaille, carrie white, hannibal lecter, thomas hewitt, vincent sinclair.

➺ miscellaneous: phil wenneck (the hangover), goodnight robicheaux (the magnificent seven 2016), billy rocks (the magnificent seven 2016), tangerine (bullet train), roy kent (ted lasso), ted lasso (ted lasso), evan “buck” buckley (911), eddie diaz (911), poly!buddie (911), eggsy unwin (kingsman), joel miller (the last of us).

🧚🏻‍♂️ request guidelines … 🧚🏻‍♂️

reader preferences: any! i will write for male, female, gender-neutral readers. ♡

what i write: i will write one-shots, headcanons, little blurbs, and drabbles based on any of the prompt lists i have reblogged, for all the characters listed above! ♡

unique requests: please do not send me any requests you have also sent to other writers! i would like to keep requests sent to me as singular as possible. ♡

request types: there are a few characters listed above who have been marked for me only accepting platonic, familial, or queerplatonic requests for them. i ask that you respect this, please! ♡

content boundaries: anything that falls into darkfic territory (stalking, kidnapping, etc.), pregnancy, infidelity, i will write smut but nothing very kinky (no judgment, i just wouldn’t be any good at writing it). ♡

request manners: please be polite! i won’t ask for much, just a simple please or thank you! ♡

never want for food or fire, always get their heart’s desire. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

Ugh 😩 since we’re on a Nylander high imagine Alex snooping through Willam’s phone and finds videos of her squirting and ass pics of William’s bite marks on them that how he found out she’s a 💦

you guys send in the best smutty asks i swear to god 🙏🏻 i’m so lucky to have such amazing anons 🥰

alex doesn’t mean to snoop and honestly he’s not even really snooping. not when william gave him permission to use his phone.

sure it was permission to use spotify during his workout and not to go flipping through his camera roll, but his thumb slipped, okay?

and really, isn’t it william’s fault for having a whole photo album of you right out in the open? that’s the kind of shit that needs to be locked behind a pass code

but the photos are right there and alex is curious and you’re gorgeous so he can’t help but pull up the album and start looking through it.

it’s like a treasure chest of gold, the photos and videos william has of you

full frontal nudity, partially clothed, mirror selfies, it’s endless

there’s the shot william had to have taken, where your head is cut off right above your swollen, red, kiss-bitten lips. your neck is littered with hickies and your nipples are puffy and raw, pebbled into tight peaks, come splattered over your skin

there’s the picture of william’s hand splayed over your stomach, the base of his cock barely visible at the entrance of your cunt

there’s the picture of your ass, perked high in the air, with william’s handprint raised in red on one cheek

there’s another picture of your ass, your legs spread wide so your pink, glistening cunt is visible, your fingers playing with your clit

again, another picture of your ass with a bite mark on one cheek, the imprint of william’s teeth surrounded by chafing from his beard

(fuck, william’s clearly an ass man, as if alex didn’t already know that, based on the sheer amount of pictures he has of your bare ass)

and the videos? fuck him, it’s like a porn website in the camera roll

videos of you playing with your tits, giggling and moaning perfectly audible

videos of you fingering yourself, whining for william to join you

videos of you with your vibrator pressed tight to your clit, the angle telling alex that it was one you took yourself and sent to william

the best video though, up close and personal with your cunt, william’s voice loud as he talks you through the fingering. there’s a clear view of two of william’s fingers buried in your cunt, curling and thrusting. you’re moaning and whining and your hips are lifting off the bed as william works, warning him that you’re close. alex doesn’t expect what’s next, the way you come harder than he’s ever seen, squirting all over your thighs and the mattress

liquid gets on the camera, smudging the view, but it’s still clear enough to see william’s fingers still working you over, loud enough for alex to hear william’s praise -“what a good girl. squirting for daddy, making a mess” - and then william’s fingers spread you, the swollen bundle of your clit clear as day on the screen

alex is beyond hard, leaking in his pants, palming himself over his shorts

he scrolls through more pictures, finding another video of you squirting, this time on william’s cock, the video shaky and angle not as good. alex can still see the gush of come from your cunt, the wet spot that forms on the sheets beneath you, the ragged breathing as you come again after squirting already

there are other pictures too, come leaking from your cunt, your folds messy and wet, william’s cock pressed against your inner thigh with a ring of cream around the base

but alex keeps going back to the videos of you squirting, obsessed with the noises you make as you come 😇

[jackhues]

it's the most wonderful time of the year! celly

starting NOV/25/23- JAN/1/23 i'll be posting a special fic every few days for a different person! this is a little gift to all of you for following me, and showing love to my fics <33

they will be based off of different christmas prompts -- i will write one fic per player, for about 15 players. send in any players you want to see + prompts, and i'll write about them if they're not already on the list! i won't be answering the asks, but i'll update the list as it goes on!

prompts: 📱 ─ 3 times you spent christmas apart + 1 time you spent it together : sidney crosby🍪 ─ baking sugar cookies together : mitch marner 🛖 ─ building a gingerbread house together : arber xhekaj ✨ ─ putting the christmas decorations up on november first : quinn hughes ⛄ ─ having a snow day together : william nylander 🎄 ─ leaving the christmas lights up until january : jack hughes ⛸️ ─ going outdoor skating together : matthew tkachuk 👚 ─ go on a date in matching christmas sweaters : auston matthews 🏔️ ─ going back home with them : nico hischier 🌨️ ─ getting caught in a snow storm : jamie drysdale 🌿 ─ kiss under the mistletoe : brendan brisson 🎥 ─ spend the day watching christmas movies : luke hughes 💃 ─ dance in the middle of the night to christmas music : mat barzal 🌲─ decorate the tree together : anthony beauvillier ❄️ ─ go to the winter festival together : braden schneider

tagging some moots below the cut to boost <3

@cherrysodadevils , @cuttergauthier , @hischierdevils , @bradenschneider , @svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @moldenhauers , @eminems-skittles , @starry-hughes , @jimothystu , @lifeofpriya , @lam-ila , @waveridersunflower , @babydollmarauders , @starsandhughes , @hischierhaze , @matthewkniesys , @luvhughes43 , @whatashameshespuckedinthehead , @lvrzegras <33

[lightsoutmatthews]

hi lovely! i need some angst in my life lol can you please do william nylander breaks up with reader for literally the stupidest reason and then realizes his mega mistake a little later and tries to win her back

I debated so much with myself if this should be a happy ending or not because you didn´t say what you wanted and now I hope you´re happy regardless 😂

What was I thinking – William Nylander

You knew something was off the second William walked into the apartment. He wasn’t talking. Not like he normally did. No casual joke, no teasing kiss on your cheek, no annoyed muttering about Toronto traffic. Not one word about how practice went when he was usually raving on about something hilarious Mitch did or what kind of “insane goal” he scored on Joseph or Anthony. 

It was just silence after the door shut down behind him with a quiet click.

You looked up from the couch, your laptop on your lap, the spreadsheet you were looking at uninteresting within seconds.

“Hey,” you greeted him. “Practice go okay?”

He dropped his keys into the ceramic dish near the door, a gift from you a few months ago because he told you he kept misplacing his them, then toed off his sneakers a little too aggressively.

“Yeah. Fine.”

That wasn’t a good sign, but you weren’t sure if it was something that happened at practiced that bothered him or if it was something else.

You closed your laptop slowly. “Okay. So, what´s up?” you questioned carefully.

He didn’t answer right away. Just walked past you into the kitchen, opened the fridge and stared at it like he had forgotten what food even was.

After a few seconds, he shut the door without grabbing anything and leaned on the counter, arms folded.

“I´ve been thinking,” he started slowly.

You stood up, your stomach tight. “Okay…?” you replied. “About what exactly?”

“This isn’t working anymore.”

For a second, you actually laughed. It was too abrupt, too ridiculous to even consider. “What?”

“You and me. I don’t think it is working anymore,” he repeated.

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach. “You´re joking.”

William didn’t meet your eyes. “I´m serious, I wouldn’t joke about stuff like that.” The seriousness in his tone dropped your heart a little more.

There was no warning. No fight. No growing distance. You literally had dinner two nights ago and talked about going to Sweden together in the summer. “Why?” you breathed out. “What the hell are you talking about, William?” The use of his full name made him flinch.

He ran a hand through his hair, that nervous tic you had learned to recognize early on. “I don’t know, I just… every time I come home, I feel like I can´t breathe. It´s too much. You always want to talk, you´re always asking me about how I feel, what I want, what I´m thinking. I don’t get space around here.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of that supposed explanation. “You´re breaking up with me because I care about you?” you huffed.

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” his jaw tightened. “I just think maybe we´re too different. Like maybe we´re not compatible, you know?”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “You´ve been with me for a year and a half and you´re only just realizing that now?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “I´m just telling you how I feel.”

“No, you´re saying something and not backing it up with anything real,” you shot back. “You said practice was fine, what actually happened?” you pressed, still trying to make sense of him.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again a few seconds later.

“I´m not stupid, William. You´re not like this unless something else is going on. You don’t just bail on people you love because they ask you how you´re doing,” you argued.

“I just don’t think this is heathy for me right now,” he said, voice flat. “With my career, and all, I can´t do this.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen. And a minute later, the front door opened, then closed.

You stood there for a long time, processing, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Then you started crying, out of confusion, frustration and most of all heartbreak.

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

Two weeks later

William wasn’t doing great.

He was sleeping like crap, eating even worse. On the ice, he was going through motions, did his job, acting like he was supposed to, but off it? He was a mess.

He was crashing at Auston´s, who hadn’t really said anything, just gave him a look that said, “you better figure your shit out fast.”

The thing was, William hadn’t even meant to break up with you.

That sounded insane, even in his own head but it was true. It was like something just short-circuited in his brain. Practice that day had been brutal. His like had been off, Craig had been on him when he was usually leaving him alone most of the time, and when the media started poking about his “consistency” it just built and built until he walked through the door and…

BOOM.

He felt overwhelmed and you were there, ready to talk to him, ready to listen and for some reason his idiot brain interpreted that as “suffocating” instead of the thing he always used to appreciate the most.

He had hurt you. For you reason. No good one, anyway.

The worst part? You hadn’t texted. Not once. He kept checking his phone even though he knew you wouldn’t. At the same time, he sure as hell couldn’t reach out until he had something more to say than “I was being stupid”.

So, he sat with it. Let it eat him form the inside.

Until finally, Auston sat down across from him on the couch and asked, “You good?”

“No,” he answered honestly.

Auston paused the game they had started playing after dinner. “Are you gonna finally tell me why you broke up with her?”

William didn’t answer.

“Because, like, not that I don’t enjoy having your company, but you´re moping around my place like a depressed teenager and you´re not even playing well enough to justify it.”

William scowled. “Thanks.”

“I mean it,” Auston said, leaning forward. “What did she do? Cheat on you? Lie to you?”

“No, nothing,” William sighed.

“Then why did you do it?” Auston pressed.

“I don’t know. I panicked. I got overwhelmed with all the shit that was going on that day, and I said some stuff I didn’t even mean.”

“So, fix it, you idiot.” Auston said, rolling his eyes.

William robbed his face with both hands, if it only would be that easy. “What if she doesn’t want to hear from me?”

Auston huffed. “Well, then that´s what you deserve but you should at least try.”

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

Three weeks post breakup

You hadn’t cried in five days.

A small victory, considering the first week you couldn’t go two hours without falling apart. But you were healing now. Slowly.

You weren’t trying to understand it anymore.

William had said it wasn’t working, out of nowhere, without warning and now you had to deal with the reality that he hadn’t fought for you. That he had rather walked away instead.

Even though it still hurt like hell, you were working through it. You had even started telling your friends not to bring him up anymore.

And then, of course, the text came.

His contact name stung in your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to completely delete his number, but changing “Will 💕” to “William Nylander” hurt and reading the changed name now, hurt even more.

William Nylander: Hey. I know I´m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I really need to talk to you. Please.

You stared at the message for a long time. Then locked your phone. Unlocked it again a minute later.

You shouldn’t respond, you really shouldn’t.

But you did.

I What could you possibly have to say that you couldn’t have said before you broke my heart?

It was a low blow, but he deserved it.

His answer came within seconds.

William Nylander: I was wrong. I´m not asking to forgive me right away, but please, let me explain.

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

You agreed to meet in a public place. Just in case you needed to walk away.

He said you should decide so, you chose the small coffee shop around the corner from your new building. It was quiet and familiar. Safe.

He was already sitting at a table when you got there. Hoodie, hat pulled low. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping.

You didn’t sit right away. Rather stood next to the table, shooting him a glance. “You´ve got five minutes,” you said.

He stood up immediately, “I deserve that.”

You crossed your arms. “So, talk.”

William nodded and took a breath before he spoke. “I made a mistake. A huge one.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, I got that part.”

He flinched a little at your harsh words but nodded again before he continued. “I was stressed. Like, really stressed. With the team, the media, everything piled on top of me. And then I came home, and you were being you. Kind and present and you wanted to make sure if I was okay. instead of being grateful like I should have been, I told myself I was being smothered.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Because I asked you how you were doing.”

He let out a loud sigh. “I know. It was dumb but I didn’t even realize how messed up it was until you were gone, and I kept looking for you and you weren’t three anymore. I just panicked that day and then I took it out on you.”

You finally sat, slowly. And you could immediately see that the tension left his body. “Why did you say it then?”

“Because I didn’t even understand what I was feeling. I lashed out and for that I am sorry.”

You were quiet for a long moment, carefully considering what you would say next. “You really hurt me.”

“I know.”

“I trusted you. I thought we were building something solid, we were one and a half years in and then one bad week and you ran,” you explained to him.

He swallowed hard. “I´m not proud of it.”

“Do you even want to be with me? Our are you just here because you´re lonely?”

That punched him straight in the gut. Hard. You saw it in his face.

“I want to be with you,” he immediately answered. “Because I miss the way you make me feel. I miss you laugh. I miss talking to you. I miss how you see through my crap but most of all I miss you. Not because I´m lonely. God knows I bothered Auston way too much since that day. I want to be with you because I was better with you in any aspect.”

You blinked, fighting back emotion, while trying to figure out what to say to that. “You broke up with me because I care too much, William. That´s basically what you said to me that day.”

“No, I broke up with you because I didn’t know how to accept that kind of care and that’s on me. You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave me more than what I deserved that day.”

Another pause.

“And what happens the next time you get overwhelmed?” you questioned. “Are you going to leave again? Because I won´t be able to go through that again, ever.”

“No,” he replied. “Because I´ve been talking to someone. A therapist. I should´ve done it a long time ago so I asked some of the guys who are already doing it for help and recommendations. I´m trying to be better. I want to be better.”

You looked at him, really looked, for the first time since entering the coffee shop.

“You´re not getting off easy,” you said finally. “You´re going to have to earn this back, and it is going to take time.”

He nodded. “I know. I´ll do whatever it takes, I promise.”

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

Three months later

He kept his word.

There were no grand gestures. No dramatic Instagram posts with love declarations or public apologies. Just consistent effort. Showing up. Listening. Talking things through. Therapy. Space when you needed it and accountability when it mattered.

You didn’t make it easy for him, but he never asked for easy. He never complained either.

Somewhere along the way, you started smiling again when you saw his name on your phone and “William Nylander” was changed back to “Will 💕”.

Then, eventually you let him back into your home and a little later, into your heart.

Because some mistakes are stupid, but some people really do learn from them. You experienced it yourself and sometimes, that makes all the difference.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

So, I might not be the best at celebrating Valentine’s Day, but I’m all in for enjoying Dream Boyfriend days ❣️

… and after our conversation, I just couldn’t resist putting together this little blurb 💕 It might not be anything special, but it’s my love letter to you ❤️

_

One Night, Not Enough I A William Nylander One-Shot

It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a single night.

That was the unspoken rule, the understanding you both had when you left the bar together, when his lips ghosted over your skin, when you tangled yourself in his sheets and let the night take you somewhere reckless and fleeting.

But fleeting wasn’t the word William would use now.

Because it had been days. Days since he last saw you, since he felt your warmth beside him, since your laughter had echoed in his ears. And it was driving him insane.

He had told himself it was just a good time, a great night—nothing more. But then, in the middle of a team meeting, he found himself staring blankly at the whiteboard, wondering what you were doing. During training, he nearly wiped out on the ice because his brain had decided to conjure up the way you had smirked at him right before you left his condo.

And then there was this giddy, borderline embarrassing thing happening to him.

Every time he even thought about seeing you again, his heart did this stupid little flip, and he caught himself smiling at nothing like some lovesick idiot.

Mitch had noticed, of course.

“You good, man?” his teammate had asked, squinting at him in the locker room. “You keep smiling at your phone like it just paid off your mortgage.”

William had scoffed, shoved his phone in his pocket, and muttered something about “none of your business.” But deep down, he knew—he wasn’t good.

Because he had never felt like this before.

And now, as he walking into the café where you had agreed to meet him, he felt ridiculous. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, and he was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to shake off the nervous energy buzzing through his veins.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to be the one overthinking, the one fidgeting. But no, William fucking Nylander—NHL star, completely composed in high-pressure situations—was losing it over the idea of seeing you again.

When you finally walked through the door, he had to remind himself to breathe.

“Hey,” you greeted, slipping off your jacket as you approached the table.

“Hey,” he replied, and then—because he was, apparently, a mess—he let out a nervous little chuckle.

You raised a brow. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said way too quickly. “No. I mean, yeah. Just—uh—glad you came.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You smiled, amused. “You sound surprised.”

William scratched the back of his neck. “I just… wasn’t sure you would.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

He licked his lips, huffed out a breath. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. And I don’t know if that makes me sound like a complete idiot or just a little bit of an idiot—but either way, I wanted to see you again.”

Your eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a second, he thought he had completely ruined it. But then you leaned in slightly, resting your elbows on the table.

“Well,” you murmured, lips quirking. “If it makes you feel better… I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.”

And holy shit—he had to physically stop himself from grinning like a total fool.

“Okay,” he breathed, nodding as if he was trying to play it cool—which he absolutely was not. “That’s… that’s really good.”

You laughed softly. “You are really bad at hiding how much you like this, aren’t you?”

William groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s embarrassing, honestly.”

But you only smiled wider. “I think it’s cute.”

And just like that, he was done for.

What can I say Sophia. This is magical. Something so perfect for what we were discussing having reassigned Valentines Day to Dream Boyfriend Day. I could just imagine this whole scene - and it's William that's internally losing his mind with being so smitten. That's the dream. I love this so much - thank you for taking the time to grace my inbox with the images I have conjured with your words. Best inaugural Dream Boyfriend Day present I could ever hope for!

[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”