#christmas leaf

[leafbreez]

Happy Holidays!1!!

[onebug]

[nottodayjustin]

December 25th 2024 best hockey tweet(s) of the day

[cuteandhughesy]

A Wonderful Christmas Time | William Nylander

summary: you and william living through the christmas eve traditions with your kids - as well as frantically preparing for santa's arrival. (dad!willy)

3.1k

warnings: SFW! pre-established relationship | children | dad!willy | mom!reader | christmas eve shenanigans | suggestive comments

a/n: based off this request! merry christmas eve!! my present to you is another highly requested willy fic 🥰 also there’s 360 of you now, which is insane…I love you all omg <3 I’ll see you guys on new years for a quinny fic

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"honey you can't play with the ornaments." your tone is warning but gentle, gathering the attention of your daughter, lennon.

she giggles, plopping down in her diaper covered butt beside the tree. lennon smiles her two toothed grin, big round eyes looking at you with nothing but joy.

you smile from the couch. "yeah i'm talking to you lenny baby."

the 1 year old laughs again—that adorable baby belly laugh than never fails in making you join in. she's not long out of the bathtub, with damp blonde hair flat against her head and wrapped up in her candy cane onsie. lennon grabs onto her toes through the soft material, rocking forward slightly. "ma." she gurgles, reaching towards you.

that is all it takes for you to get up, making your way towards the christmas tree—decorated in various coloured and homemade ornaments—and pick lennon up under her arms, pulling her against your chest. you kiss your daughters chubby cheek three quick times, igniting another round of baby giggles from her tiny body. "should we see what daddy and lukey are up to? should we go see?"

she snuggles into your neck, smiling at the mention of her dad and older brother. you bring yourself up the stairs, bare feet barley padding on the carpeted flooring. you reach the landing and the familiar sound of your husbands voice, followed by your sons sweet laughter ring in your ears.

rounding into the warm and blueberry soap scented bathroom, your smile widens even further. luke reaches towards william, the water just merely missing the side of the bath tub as he bounces up. he covers your husbands face in scented suds, creating the illusion of a big white beard—very fitting for the day.

"you look like santa daddy." he laughs, small hands continuing to pile more bubbles on top of william's already full beard.

"ho ho ho." your husbands mimics father christmas's deep rumbling slogan, leaning further over the the edge of the grand bath tub to nuzzle your sons neck, transferring the bubbly mess to luke.

you watch with an amused expression as luke's laughter increases, squirming away from the bubbles and the scratchy feeling of william's beard. then his bright blue eyes find you standing against the door frame, and instantly he's distracted. "mummy!"

william looks over his shoulder, and the sight of you and lennon has him grinning wildly. "hey you two."

"hello my boys," you hum, walking further into the vintaged decorated bathroom. "how's bath time coming along? you getting clean lukey baby?"

"i'm not a baby mummy." your 4 year old is ever the sassy one, crossing his slippery arms over his tiny chest. "i'm a grown up." although his attitude drives you up the wall slightly, his little lisp and side eye makes it a little more on the cute side.

you snicker. "oh are you now?"

"yeah. i'm the grown up and lennon is the baby." luke points a finger in your daughters direction, and with that momentary attention on her, lennon squeals happily, fisting your pyjama top in her chubby hand.

william quirks a brow in luke's direction. "santa doesn't come to grown ups lukey."

he gasps loudly, eyes widening to a comical state at his dads words. "okay, Im a baby!"

it seems that lennon has realized her dad is crouched by the tub in front of her older brother, and she instantly starts whining, her chunky little arms stretched out as she asks for william.

"mummy, when's santa coming?" luke questions.

you put lennon down between your bare feet, sitting her on her bum. she doesn't stay, immediately crawling towards your husband while babbling his name happily.

"not until you're sleeping, bub."

he pouts, "but what if I want to see him?"

"that's not how it works buddy." william sighs gently, scooping lennon into his arms. "his magic will go away if you see him."

luke gasps, eyes wide with panic and unshed emotion. "I don't want his magic to go away daddy!"

you coo, joining your husband and daughter infront of the tub, getting down to your knees. you mimic your sons pout, reaching out to run a hand over luke's wet, curly hair. "it's okay bub."

he leans into your touch, blinking up at you with his wet eyelashes. luke's always looked identical to his father, meaning it's always been hard for you to be mad it him—but you're working on it. "we just gotta make sure we get into bed soon! so santa can come and bring you and lenny some presents."

that seems to do the trick, and a smile pulls at his tiny rosebud lips. "okay mumma."

you help luke get out of the bath and wrap him in his favourite blue dinosaur towel, holding him in your arms as you help dry him off, as well as keep him warm. taking baths in the nylander house was never such an event, but as soon as luke turned 4, he decided that you and lennon could no longer share bath time with him.

you really weren't going to argue with him about something so insignificant—so separate bath times it's been.

"you've such a good boy this year, lukey." you mumble into your sons chubby cheek, pressing two kisses against the flushed skin. "I love you."

"I love you too mummy, but we have to put the cookies out now." his serious deadpan stare up at you has you giggling, and you nod quickly.

you get luke dressed in his matching candy cane pyjamas before taking him downstairs—joining william and your sleepy daughter who'd previously slipped back to the fire lit family room.

"baby do think santa wants chocolate chip or oatmeal? what should we leave out?" you eye luke from across the kitchen island, an empty santa plate between you.

"I think santa wants chocolate chip." william says enthusiastically, holding lennon in his strong arms. she's practically asleep now, blinking dangerously slow against his chest.

you send your husband a warning look, to which he sends you a quick wink.

you look back at luke, who is leaning on the counter top with a thoughtful finger to his chin—something you often do that's he's adorably picked up on. "mhmmm..can we ask uncle alex?"

"why do you want to ask uncle alex?" you question with amusement, brows pulled together tightly.

"because he's smart." luke says matter of factly, looking at you with a curious expression.

william snickers. "that's going to inflate his ego."

you shake your head, a gentle smile pulling at your lips—you already know your brother-in-law will absolutely eat up his nephew's statement.

"lukey, uncle alex is sleeping right now. but I think you're smart too and you should pick the cookies."

"okay," luke chirps, "chocolate mummy!”

william leans down and presses a firm kiss against his sons damp hair, clearly feeling at peace with luke's cookie choice. "good pick baby."

you help luke put two cookies on the plate, reminding him multiple times to not eat the cookies himself, especially before bed, which proves to be a bit of a broken record—but you get there eventually. luke takes the plate and glass of almond milk over to the coffee table, barley keeping the milk from spilling over the rim as he roughly places them down.

right before finally getting luke to head in the direction of the stairs, he turns back towards you and william with wide eyes. "daddy! we have to put out the reindeer food!"

aryne tavares had seen the cutest DIY reindeer food craft on pinterest a few days ago, and the two of you got a bunch of the leafs kiddos together to make some before santa and the reindeers arrival. luke's been so excited for days about the damn glitter oatmeal concoction, and you're surprised he's only just remembering it.

you look towards your husband. "yeah daddy, you gotta put the reindeer food out."

after william bares the freezing cold christmas eve temperature and sprinkles the magic food mixture on your front step, you finally get luke into bed. your read him a holiday book while william gets the rest of the unwrapped christmas gifts from your linen closet, bringing them to the living room for your last minute wrapping session.

as you finish the last line of the book, you watch luke's eyes flicker closed, some much needed sleep taking over as he goes limp against the lightning mcqueen pillow.

you slip out of the dark room and tiptoe down the stairs, joining william and the rather large pile of gifts by the couch. you exhale loudly, hands on your hips as you asses everything. "you're on tape duty."

he groans. "I hate tape duty."

your pout is exaggerated, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his sweater covered waist. "awh baby, you'll be okay."

30 minutes later and what feels like a hundred presents later, william groans for the 10th time, falling backwards against the shaggy rug beneath you. "ugh my back is killing me." he peeks over at you. "how do you do this every year?"

you slide the scissors down the holly printed wrapping paper. "i'm very flexible."

a boyish grin tugs at his lips. "yeah you are."

you look away from the present and over towards your dramatic husband. despite your cheeks burning red at his insinuation, your give him a deadpanned stare. "willy."

"I think we should take a break." he hums.

you sigh gently, folding the paper over a box full of ella nylander's favourite sephora pieces. "honestly as much as I'd love a break, it's quite literally christmas eve, babe. these presents gotta be wrapped."

he pushes up to his elbows, looking at you pointedly. "my family doesn't need their gifts wrapped."

you laugh. "yes, they do."

"fine—but if I strain my back and can't play...i'm giving staff your number." he teases you, sitting back into a proper position, fingers fiddling with some bows spewn across the rug.

"yeah yeah, pass me the damn ribbon."

thankfully you're only wrapping gifts for another 20 minutes, wrapping a beautiful velvet ribbon over every single one. you're sure your limbs will punish you for the extra ribbon work tomorrow morning, but the perfectionist in you doesn't care about that with how aesthetically pleasing the gifts look.

you make william drag out the bags full of presents for luke and lennon, passing them to you while you put them next to the christmas tree, ready for the morning.

you've definitely spoiled your two kids for another christmas now, but you and william can't help it—this time of year is so special and magical, and your kids are so well behaved that it's hard not to get them lots of things to celebrate another year.

hours after you would've liked to go to sleep, you're finally walking up the stairs, william hot on your trail, when you suddenly stop, a low groan rumbling through your chest. "the cookies."

his head hits your butt in exhaustion and defeat. "fuck me."

—

"santa came!" the shrill squeal of luke is the first thing you can register, tired eyes blinking open in the dim room.

beside you, willy groans, rolling onto your side of the bed under the warm covers.

luke pushes open your bedroom door, bare feet smacking against the hardwood as he runs towards your bed. "mummy! daddy! santa came." he slaps his hands on the side of the bed, a command that he wants up.

usually you'd work on his method of asking, but not today, his haste much understood. you gasp loudly, sitting up so you're able to lift him onto your and william's shared bed. "what? are you sure?"

he giggles, crawling into your lap. "yes!" subconsciously he starts playing with the buttons on your pyjama top, something he used to do when he was a baby.

"oh my goodness." you grin, gently tickling his sides. "well should we get up and head downstairs?"

he squeals again, and the sound is like gold—instantly walking you up. "yes mummy!"

beside you, william sighs sleepily, pushing up on the mattress into a sitting position. his smile is lazy, hand pushing back luke's crazy hair.

"daddy, it's christmas!" you're quickly forgotten about, luke sneaking over to william's lap and cuddling into his shirtless chest.

"I know buddy." he smiles, kissing his head.

"let's get your sister first, lukey. and then we will go downstairs." you chime gently, already pulling the covers back to slip out of bed. luke follows suit, sliding belly first off the tall mattress.

lennon is already awake when you open her door, holding onto the crib railing as she bounces on the mattress. she makes an adorable cooing noise as you greet her, gummy smile making an appearance as you get closer.

as soon as you all make it downstairs, chaos ensues. it's a mess of ribbon, bows and teared  wrapping paper as luke quickly opens all his presents. although the mess is a bit overwhelming, it's overshadowed by the joy of watching your sons face full of excitement.

at every present, luke will stop and bound over to your husband, gift clutched in his hand. "daddy can you open this one?" or "look at this one daddy!"

and everytime william shows the most enthusiasm, making that christmas magic linger as long as humanly possible.

"look daddy I have a hockey stick just like you!" luke jumps up and down in one spot, practically vibrating with excitement as he holds up his brand new hockey stick from santa.

he'd been begging for a 'big boy stick' for almost a year, and william thought this christmas would be the perfect opportunity to wrap up his sons newest obsession.

you hold lennon on your knees, letting her play with the velvety green ribbon from her gift. like usual, you watch luke waltz up to william, displaying his new hockey stick like his life depended on it.

"wow!" william beams, "you're very lucky lukey."

your son nods with enthusiasm, eyes still tranced on the stick. "now I can come play with you and uncle mitchy."

"that's right baby."

you make them pose for a photo after that. william tucks luke into his side, a smile on both of your babies faces as luke holds the stick out. you make sure to send it to steph marner, followed by how excited he is to play with mitch. it's all so cute, and you're so in love with your little family.

luke plays with his toys while you and william make breakfast, lennon gurgling happily in her high chair, sucking on a strawberry while she waits for her food.

eventually you get him to stop playing and come get his serving of eggs, bacon and toast—although he does bring the hockey stick to the table, but you didn't expect anything else.

it's when william is tidying up the dishes and you're just getting lennon out of the high chair, william's family arrives, walking through the front door in a flurry of snow and presents, smiles on their faces.

"merry christmas!"

luke's tiny gasp is almost humorous, and he drops the hockey stick and runs towards his grandparents, tiny feet smacking against the floor. "papa! nana!"

"oh my goodness!" camila greets warmly, dropping her bag to embrace her grandson. "hello my baby." william's mom kisses luke's face multiple times, which sends the toddler into a fit of giggles.

"and here's the other little baby." michael smiles gently, reaching towards your daughter, running his index finger along her soft cheek. "hello lenny bear! merry christmas sweet girl." she smiles, shying away from her grandfathers tickle.

his parents greet you both briefly, but their too wrapped up in the magic of christmas with their first set of grand babies that you're not even mad about the hasty greeting.

"lukey!" ella looks down at her nephew, arms open expectantly. "do I get a hug?"

"yes auntie ella!" he runs into her arms, squeezing william's sister as tight as he can manage.

she pulls back, looking down at luke with sparkling eyes. "did you open your presents from santa?"

"yes," luke beams, blinking up at his aunt warmly. "and he got me a hockey stick!"

"what?! you're so lucky." ella relates the words he's heard a million times today, running her palm flat over his unruly head of hair. "I bet uncle alex will want to see it!"

at the mention of his favourite person in the world (besides his father of course), luke gasps so hard you think his little lungs might explode. he catches sight of alex in the kitchen, chatting with you while he plays with lennon's tiny toes affectionately.

"uncle alex" luke giggles, running over to his uncle.

at the sound of his name, the second eldest nylander sibling looks over just in time for luke to run at his legs. alex smiles, grabbing your son under the arms and swinging him to his chest. "hey dude."

luke immediately lays his head on his shoulder, rubbing his cheek on the soft fabric of alex's hoodie. it's a rather sweet sight, and you're instantly feeling emotional about it.

you clear your throat, adjusting lennon on your hip. "lukey, wanna tell uncle alex what you said last night?"

your son nods gently. "you are smart."

alex gasps happily, pulling down luke's pyjama shirt from where it's ridden up against his sweater.

"he wanted to call you and ask what cookies santa would like because you're smart." you continue, adding a bit more context to the story.

alex nods triumphantly, "you're right lukey I am smart." he kisses your sons cheek once, a loud smacking noise that has lukey laughing, trying to squirm away from the tickle of alex's beard—something he's used to with william.

you'll never get tired of the holiday season, and seeing your family so content and happy with one another just adds to the festive atmosphere and pure joy of christmas.

you feel your husbands arms wrap around your waist from behind, william gently kissing the side of your face as he greets you. "merry christmas, babe."

lennon gurgles happily as she catches sight of william, reaching over you to touch his face, fingers raking through his grown-out facial hair and running over his lips. william nips her tiny hands gently, making her squeal with laughter.

you smile warmly, watching with loving eyes. "merry christmas willy."

[3416]

merry christmas from your dumb jock toronto maple leafs

[tiger-balm]

@ mapleleafs: tis the season of giving 😊🎄

[misshoneyimhome]

What's up buttercups!

So, we’re kicking off Sexy Christmas a little early this year—because why not? 🎄✨

And what better way to jump-start the holiday vibes than with the generous helping of Willy-deliciousness? ❤️‍🔥 Buckle up for a mix of holiday cheer, tension, and a whole lot of heat. I hope you enjoy this festive treat!

Happy (early) holidays and happy reading babes!

➼｡ﾟ

Naughty Under the Tree - William Nylander

OC unwraps an unexpected gift from her hockey player love interest—him, wearing only a strategically placed ribbon, waiting for her under the Christmas tree.

Tropes & Warnings: 18+ smut, William Nylander x reader oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v)

Word count: 2.2K

The quiet hum of Christmas jazz filled the room as the golden glow of the tree lights reflected off your dark red silk pyjamas. The set—a matching button-up top and shorts—had been a spontaneous indulgence for the holidays. It hugged your curves just enough to feel elegant but comfortable, perfect for a cosy evening spent unwrapping gifts.

And yet, the most important gift was still missing: your boyfriend.

You glanced at the clock and sighed, swirling the last bit of wine in your glass. William had been acting strange all day, sneaking off with a mischievous grin that made you suspicious. Now, you were alone on the couch, the festive atmosphere of the room only accentuating the absence of his usual playful energy.

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the message.

William: Be ready in 5. Trust me. Close your eyes when I say so.

Your brow furrowed, but your lips curled into a smile. What was he up to this time? You placed your glass on the coffee table and leaned back into the sofa cushions, deciding to play along.

Moments later, you heard the door open. The familiar creak of his footsteps mixed with the faint rustle of bags. “You’re back,” you called out, your voice laced with curiosity.

“Stay there,” he replied, his tone teasing. “And close your eyes. No peeking.”

You sighed dramatically but obeyed, shutting your eyes and crossing your arms. “This better not involve glitter or reindeer antlers,” you teased.

He chuckled, the sound growing closer. “Just trust me.”

You heard the soft shuffle of movement near the Christmas tree, followed by the faint clink of ornaments shifting. The seconds stretched, and your anticipation built until finally, his voice broke through the silence.

“Okay,” he said, a smile audible in his tone. “Open your eyes.”

You blinked your eyes open—and gasped.

William lay sprawled out beneath the Christmas tree, the twinkling lights casting golden highlights across his toned body. He was entirely bare except for a single large red ribbon tied around his hips, the bow sitting precariously low on his waist. His golden hair was slightly tousled, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he rested his head on one hand, looking like a gift-wrapped fantasy come to life.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, his grin boyish yet impossibly alluring.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you fought back laughter and heat rising in your cheeks. “Oh my God,” you breathed, unsure whether to scold him or climb on top of him. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he said, gesturing to himself. “I’m your present. Unwrap me.”

You shook your head, your laughter finally spilling out. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me for it,” he countered, his grin softening as he propped himself up slightly. His voice dropped to a lower, more serious tone. “You’ve been stressed lately. I just wanted to give you something… more special.”

Your smile softened, your heart melting at his words. You moved closer to him, kneeling by the edge of the tree. “You’re already the best gift,” you said, your fingers reaching out to trace the ribbon resting on his waist.

His breath hitched slightly at your touch, and you noticed his grin shift into something more serious. “Good,” he murmured, “because I’m all yours tonight.”

Your hand lingered on his bare skin, and the playful tension between you thickened into something deeper. He reached up, brushing his fingers along your cheek, and the gesture made your heart flutter. Slowly, he sat up, his face mere inches from yours, and leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss.

The kiss started soft, tender, but quickly deepened as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as his lips moved against yours, igniting a fire in your chest. Without thinking, you climbed onto his lap, your silky pyjamas brushing against his bare skin. His hands roamed over your thighs, pushing the hem of your shorts up slightly as he groaned into the kiss.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire.

You smiled into the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair as you pressed your body closer to his, feeling his hardness slowly growing. The ribbon slipped loose from his waist, falling to the side as your hands explored the hard planes of his chest, savouring the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

Breaking the kiss for just a moment, William rose effortlessly, lifting you in his arms as he carried you to the sofa. He set you down gently, hovering over you as the tree lights bathed you both in a soft, romantic glow.

“You’re overdressed,” he teased, his voice a low murmur as his fingers toyed with the buttons on your pyjama top.

“Are you going to do something about it?” you challenged, your tone breathless yet playful, a hint of anticipation lacing your words.

William’s lips curved into a smirk, his blue eyes darkening with desire. “Gladly.”

He didn’t need further encouragement. His hands moved deftly, undoing each button with deliberate, torturous slowness, as though savouring every moment of unveiling you. His lips never left your skin, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jawline, down the curve of your neck, and across the delicate line of your collarbone. Each press of his lips sent tiny sparks dancing across your body, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

When he reached the last button, he paused, his fingers brushing over the open fabric of your top as the cool air whispered across your bare skin. A shiver coursed through you, though it had nothing to do with the temperature. The silky fabric slid off your shoulders with ease, pooling around your elbows. William’s gaze raked over you, his expression a mixture of awe and reverence.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as his hands traced the curves of your exposed body. His palms brushed over the soft swell of your breasts, down the curve of your waist, and along your hips, each touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with every second.

His lips followed his hands, trailing featherlight kisses across your collarbone, down the centre of your chest, and along the soft curves that rose and fell with each unsteady breath. The deliberate slowness of his movements was intoxicating, his attention making you feel like you were the centre of his universe.

His kisses deepened, growing more urgent as he slid the waistband of your pyjama shorts down your hips, revealing bright red lace beneath. He paused, his lips hovering above your exposed skin, his breath hot against your thighs as his hands roamed over your body.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he muttered, his voice low and filled with want.

Your hands found their way into his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you tugged him closer. “Good,” you whispered, your voice trembling but firm.

He smirked against your skin before his lips found yours again, fiery and consuming, his kiss a perfect blend of tenderness and raw passion. His hands slipped under the lace, his fingers brushing against your sensitive core, drawing a gasp from your lips. He teased you with light strokes, circling your clit with just the right pressure before slipping a finger inside you, his touch both gentle and confident.

“William,” you breathed his name, your voice a plea and a prayer all at once.

He watched your face as he worked his magic, adding another finger to stretch you gently, curling and pumping them in a rhythm that made your breath hitch with every movement. His thumb pressed against your clit, coaxing soft whimpers from you as your hips instinctively rocked against his hand.

“I could make you come just like this,” he whispered, his voice thick with pride and affection, his gaze locked on yours. “But not tonight. Tonight, I want to feel every part of you.”

Before you could respond, he shifted lower, his hands gripping your thighs as he knelt between them. He pressed his mouth against your core, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles that made you arch against him. His fingers continued their slow rhythm inside you, complementing the movements of his mouth in a way that left you utterly undone.

“William,” you gasped, your hands gripping the cushions beneath you as your body tightened with pleasure.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat through you. His mouth was relentless, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to push you closer and closer to the edge.

And when the climax hit, it was nothing but overwhelming, your body trembling as a wave of pure ecstasy washed over you. Your moans filled the room, your fingers tightening in his hair as he held you steady, his movements slowing as he guided you through the aftermath.

He rose to meet you, his lips brushing against yours, tasting like the very essence of you. William laid you back on the sofa, his body fitting perfectly against yours. The feel of his bare skin against yours was intoxicating, the warmth of him grounding you as the firelight cast flickering shadows across his face.

“I need you,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing as he positioned himself above you.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders as he aligned himself with you.

He entered you slowly, his movements deliberate and careful, savouring every second as he filled you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, the sensation almost overwhelming. The connection between you was more profound than words could capture—like two halves of the same whole finding their place.

William’s eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense and filled with emotion as he began to move, each thrust measured and unhurried. The way his body fit perfectly with yours was exquisite, his movements deliberate yet deeply passionate, a rhythm that felt both instinctive and consuming.

Each time he pushed deeper, his length stretched and massaged your inner walls in a way that had you trembling beneath him. The slight curve of his hips allowed him to hit spots that made you cry out softly, your fingers clawing at his back as waves of pleasure built inside you.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against your ear, his voice strained yet tender as he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck. His breath was hot, his words sending shivers down your spine as your bodies moved together, perfectly in sync.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, marking him as your moans grew louder, more desperate. His name fell from your lips like a mantra, each syllable a plea for more. Meanwhile, William’s control was slipping. His fists clenched the cushions on either side of you, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold himself back, wanting to draw out the moment. But the way your body responded to him—the way your walls clenched tightly around his cock, pulling him deeper—made it nearly impossible to resist.

“Fuck baby, I can’t hold it,” he groaned, his voice husky as his forehead pressed against yours. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a visible battle between holding on and giving in to the overwhelming pleasure.

The heat between you intensified, your breaths mingling as you pushed each other closer and closer to the edge. The friction, the closeness, the way every part of him seemed to align perfectly with you—it was all-consuming. Every thrust, every moan, every whispered word of encouragement sent you both spiralling higher, the world around you blurring until there was only him, only this.

And as he continued to push harder and faster, you cried out as your climax hit, your body arching against his as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched tightly around him again, and the sensation pulled him into his own release. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper just as his hips jerked, his own groan filling the room as he buried himself deep inside you, spilling into you as his body trembled with the intensity of it all.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, trembling from the aftershocks. William lowered himself carefully, his weight warm and grounding as he pressed a series of soft kisses to your shoulder, then your collarbone, before finally burying his face in the crook of your neck.

His arms wrapped around you protectively, pulling you close as his breathing began to slow, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmured, “You’re amazing.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along the muscles of his back. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased softly, though your voice was still thick with affection.

He chuckled, the sound low and content as he shifted just enough to meet your eyes. His blue gaze was softer now, filled with something deeper than lust—a warmth and adoration that made your heart swell.

As the two of you lay tangled together on the sofa, the flickering light of the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over your bodies, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the perfect gift. Nothing else in the world mattered at that moment except the man holding you as if you were his entire world.

[tojisun]

my favourite 1634 christmas twt

[jvgsjeff]

Happy Toy Day! 🎄

[whomeekmanlarsson]

Leafs 2024-25 Scrapbook :)

[wollerjoseph]

snow and christmas so valid

[riaki]

knitted hearts | kento nanami x reader

pt.3 of christmas event! i wrote this for u genie ily 🤍 cw: established relationship, he (over)works at that financing company from before, two (2) petnames

the lights are still on.

that's the first thing kento immediately notices when he gets back; the office clocked him overtime, and so he's late. regrettably, again.

in the past, whenever that's happened, he'd have sent you a text beforehand and came home to a dark apartment; eaten something quick before getting into bed and slipping beneath the soft covers where your resting warmth melts away the stress of the day between his shoulders and his eyebrows.

tonight is different, it seems. the city buzzes with a quiet hum, light snowfall blanketing the roofs and muffling the sound. the holiday season is in full swing; normally, he wouldn't care to know. or remember. if not for the lame decorations around his workplace and the chocolate advent calendar you've been diligently (force) feeding him every night, he wouldn't've noticed at all.

he closes the door quietly behind him, careful not to make excess noise in case you're asleep as he slips his shoes off and hangs his jacket up. after all, you might've just been absentminded or tired, and forgot to switch the lights off. and you blame him for being lost to time.

it's quiet in the house; not dead silent, though. there's soft, ambient winter jazz flowing from somewhere in the house, and the faint sound of the fridge humming, paired with something that's baking in the oven. the scent of soft vanilla and orange settles gently over his shoulders, as if to welcome him home. his half finished coffee sits in a porcelain mug on the stained counter; you'd accidentally made too much for him, leaving you with a puddle of bitter caffeine that couldn't even be finished with your combined efforts. you'd promised him you would chug it over text, but clearly that didn't happen.

he's ready to go through the motions of a quiet night spent unwinding alone when he hears your voice— after endless hours of aching at a desk, clacking away on a mechanical keyboard in the dreariest environment imaginable, it soothes him like no vacation fantasy he's ever known.

"nami? is that you?" you called. your voice is coming from the shared bedroom; you sound tired, and kento can just imagine the sleepy look on your face. he's never been inclined to use the words 'cute' or 'pretty' to describe someone before, but if he had to choose, then he'd use them for you.

he walks down the length of the hallway, undoing his tie and gently tugging it off his neck as he reaches the threshold to your room. the air is warm and soft; it seems so much easier to breathe the closer you are. like the crushing weight of work he puts on his lungs dissipates into a cloud of melting frost.

"i'm home, sweetheart." he's surprised at how rough his own voice sounds; it's almost unfamiliar. he needs your rejuvenating touch; at least, that's what he decides the instant he sees you. you're sitting right in the middle of the mattress, something lumpy, tacky, red and green bundled up in your lap. with something between a sinking realization and a fluttering in his chest he recognizes it as the sweater you've been making for him. you're finishing it up, it seems, from the formerly-wide bundle of soft thread that's been reduced to a meek little crimson string on the white sheets.

it's one of your new interests. you seem to be taking up a lot of those, lately; kento feels as though it's his fault, for never having the time to take you out. yet you're always so patient despite his busy schedule, adjusting to portion out a chunk of time from your own just to accommodate for him. it's unfair, and so one night he vowed to do more for you over a glass of red wine and a fancy white table cloth, freshly cleaned and pressed. that was one of the rare times he'd been able to take you out like you really deserved. "and don't call me by my last name. you're allowed to use my given," he sighs, rather exasperated, but you both know there's only affection behind it.

you perk up, a bright look in your eyes that melts the last of the frost buried in his chest and beneath his eyes. he crosses the room to stand at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt a few to let himself breathe. and he doesn't miss the way your eyes linger, so he clears his throat, and you spring to action.

"i finished your sweater, ken. can you put it on?" you ask eagerly, and he's briefly reminded of a young boy with pink hair like raspberry chocolate and a golden retriever demeanor. a soft feeling pushes at the back of his heart, sending mushy gushiness through his veins at the sight.

you scoot close, holding it up for him to examine. in all honesty, it's not terrible; you get an A for effort, at the very least. the five reindeer look more like those urban folklore creatures, and the tree looks as though it could use seven more centuries under the sun-- but other than that, it's a perfect first try.

"i'd love to, darling, but i..." he doesn't get to finish, because you seem to wilt a little, and it already feels like that crushing burden over his diaphragm is back, but this time it's exceedingly and guiltily unpleasant, so he retracts his words.

"alright." he succumbs with a tired sigh, letting his eyes flutter shut and removing his glasses to rub the spot where the frame has been digging into his skin; normally you'd do it for him, but you're busy adjusting the fluffy pom poms (he didn't see those before) on the sweater's cuffs, so he does it himself.

he hears the tell tale shift of the soft bedding and he opens his eyes again, only to be met with a very expectant look on your face.

"put your hands up."

"...pardon?" a small amount of resistance to your antics is always present, at first. by now he knows you expect it. but this time, it may be much worse.

"you heard me! arms to the sky." he likes your laugh, a lot. it jingles like a gentle wind chime.

"i can put it on myself. i'm not a child," he says, a little cross, but you're undeterred. as per usual. not like he minds.

"please?"

kento doesn't particularly view himself as a man with a great many ambitious, or zealous ideals. still, he isn't a pushover and has a strong resolve. unfortunately for him (fortunately for you), when it comes to you, it doesn't take much for him to crumble. if you willed it, he'd get down at your feet.

with resignation, he kneels down on one leg, as if you're about to knight him. he waits patiently, holding his arms up, and he can practically feel your giddy smile.

soon enough, you're slipping it over his tangled blonde hair— with a little bit of effort and a lot of scratchy fabric. it's too big here and too tight there, hanging off his shoulders oddly and the sleeves are uneven. but it's cute, too-- in the way that a toddler's crayon doodles are endearing, so are your amateur efforts. what matters to him the most, is that you've handmade it for him.

nothing an industry company factory could achieve.

"so? how do you like it?" you prompt as you start to mess with the collar, pinching and pulling the fabric so that it suits his form appropriately. he doesn't ever remember you asking for his size, but you seem to know it anyway.

"it's warm," is his only input. he knows you'll complain— but it's fun to hear you whine.

you frown. "is that all?" there it is— a small, sweet little pout; the minute down tilt of your lips. your fingers dance over his collarbone as you pull the collar of his button up over the rim, and his breath hitches in his throat. kento wonders if you can feel his heartbeat or notice the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

before you— or he— knows it, he's pulling you down to sit on the knee that's still propped up, catching you by the rest and meeting you halfway to press a gentle kiss to your lips. he's met with a muffled sound of surprise that quickly melts into a laugh; he can feel you smile against his lips and he wants to devour it.

"so i take it you like it?" you whispered as you lean in, hands leaving the unwieldy sweater to thread through his hair, messing it up to your heart's content after he slicked it to the side. you taste sweet, like chocolate and caramel-- he must've missed the advent sweet for today.

his only response is a small hum— you can feel the vibration, so you chuckle again and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away breathless from the kiss to knock your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes. there's an undeniable well of warmth behind your gorgeous irises; if he had the time, he'd get himself lost in them.

"good, because i have socks on the backburner and you'll be getting a scarf next."

whenever the lights are off, kento knows you've gone to bed already, without him. but he thinks he could get used to scratchy, hand-knit clothing if it means they'll always be on and waiting for him after a long day of dreaming in front of a desk, all about your smile.

not proofread my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[morethansalad]

Homemade Marzipan Fruits (Vegan)

[snuggerudism]

SNOWFALL WALKS | Matthew Knies

event masterlist

warnings: none

Growing up in Phoenix, snow was a rare occurrence. It practically never snowed. Instead, it was typically 70° in December.

Toronto was a completely different story, with completely different weather. It was actually cold in the winter, and you were so excited to see the snow.

Matt was finishing up his morning skate, and you were determined to make the most of your day. You were on your way to walk through the park and grab some hot chocolate and such.

Matt was meeting you there in fifteen minutes, so you waited on the bench. Surprisingly, the cold did not bother you. You had bundled up enough, and brought hand warmers just in case.

The snow had stopped, but it was still frigid outside.

Seeing various kids run through the park, chasing each other with snowballs warmed your heart. Some were also building snowmen.

“Baby, hi.” Matt bends down to kiss your lips, smiling against you.

“How was practice?” You send him a smile, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“It was good. You’re still coming to the game tonight?” He holds your gloved hand as you start walking through the park.

“Wouldn’t miss it Matty.” You grin.

You continue your walk, discussing your plans for the rest of the week together. It takes a moment to notice the white flakes that stick to your jacket.

“Matty! It’s snowing again!” Your eyes are wide, a huge smile appearing on your face.

You had missed the snowfall through the middle of the night, and woke up to it. Now, you got to experience the actual snowfall.

“It is.” He looks down at you, heart warming at the sight.

“I love it so much,” You look at him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more baby.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently.

[klabauters]

"What time period is that outfit based on?" uhhhh well I imagined what the artful Dodger would look like if he went to sea, and also had the hoarding habits of an adult crow. Isn't that obvious??

[misshoneyimhome]

What's up buttercups!

Who doesn’t love a little mistletoe mischief? 🎄✨

This one’s for all the Auston fans craving that perfect blend of holiday magic and unresolved tension 😏

I hope you enjoy this steamy, festive moment! Happy holidays and happy reading! 🎁

Sexy Christmas ☃︎

➼｡ﾟ

Mistletoe Tease - Auston Matthews ☃︎

The tension between them has been building for weeks, but when they get caught under the mistletoe at the team’s holiday party, what starts as a simple kiss quickly becomes a steamy exchange they can’t stop.

Tropes & Warnings: 18+ smut, Auston Matthews x reader, sexual intercourse with guests in the house, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex (p in v)

Word count: 2.5K

The buzz of laughter and chatter filled the air, blending with the soft strains of holiday music playing in the background. The Toronto Maple Leafs’ annual holiday party was in full swing, complete with an over-the-top Christmas tree, twinkling lights, and, of course, strategically placed mistletoe in nearly every doorway.

You stood near the kitchen bar, swirling a glass of champagne as your gaze flicked across the room. The team was in high spirits, their usual competitive energy swapped for relaxed camaraderie. But your focus wasn’t on the crowd—it was on Auston Matthews. The team’s captain. The host of tonight’s festivities.

He was hard to miss, his tall frame leaning casually against the counter, his dark eyes scanning the room. Every time his gaze lingered on you, your heart skipped a beat. For weeks, an unspoken tension had simmered between you. Lingering glances, light brushes of hands, and playful banter left your cheeks flushed long after he’d walked away. But neither of you had taken that next step. 

Tonight though, he looked particularly irresistible in a dark green sweater that clung to his broad shoulders, his usual confident smirk softened by the glow of the Christmas lights.

And as if sensing your thoughts, Auston turned his head, his eyes locking onto yours. The corner of his mouth lifted into a knowing grin, and you felt a wave of heat rise to your cheeks as he decided to make his way in your direction. 

“You’re staring,” his deep voice teased as he approached, his presence commanding your attention.

“Maybe I am,” you shot back, your tone light though your pulse quickened. “But don’t let it go to your head, Matthews.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and leaned against the counter beside you. “Too late.”

But before you could respond, a shout erupted from across the room.

“Mistletoe alert!”

Your stomach flipped as you glanced up, and sure enough, a sprig of mistletoe dangled above your heads. A chorus of cheers and whistles erupted from the other players, all eyes on the two of you.

“Well,” Auston drawled, his voice taking on a playful edge as he stepped closer, “rules are rules.”

Your breath caught as Auston stepped into your space, his familiar scent—fresh, woodsy, with a hint of something deeper—enveloping you. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, though there was something else simmering beneath the surface, something that made your pulse race.

“You could always back out,” you teased, your voice softer now but laced with a challenge.

His grin widened, and he tilted his head, his eyes tracing your face. “You think I’d let you get away with that?”

Before you could reply, his hands slid to your waist, steady but gentle, sending a jolt of electricity through you. The chatter of the room seemed to fade as he leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek before his lips pressed softly against yours.

The kiss started light, almost testing the waters, but the heat between you ignited instantly. His lips were warm and firm, moving against yours with a perfect blend of confidence and tenderness. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the soft fabric of his sweater.

The cheers around you grew louder, a few catcalls and exaggerated applause breaking through the haze. You knew you should pull away, laugh it off as a playful holiday moment, but neither of you moved.

Instead, Auston deepened the kiss, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if anchouring you in place. A quiet hum escaped your throat, and you felt him smile against your lips. When his tongue brushed teasingly against yours, a surge of heat pooled low in your belly, and you couldn’t stop your fingers from curling into the fabric of his sweater, pulling him closer. 

“Get a room!” Max Domi shouted, snapping you both out of the moment.

Auston pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted and glistening, and he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

“Maybe we should,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, but you managed a smirk, trying to regain some composure. “Big talk, Matthews. Are you going to make good on it?”

His grin returned, sharper this time, and his hand slid up your side, brushing the curve of your hip. “Oh, I plan to. Come on.”

Without giving you a chance to respond, Auston’s fingers laced through yours, tugging you toward the back of the house. You barely registered the playful jeers from the team as he guided you down a quiet hallway, the noise of the party fading with each step.

The moment you reached the door to his bedroom, Auston pushed it open with a firm hand, pulling you inside before closing it behind you. His lips were on yours again before you could catch your breath, his hands cupping your face as he backed you against the door.

This kiss wasn’t playful or teasing—it was hungry, all-consuming, as if he’d been holding back for weeks and finally let go. His body pressed against yours, solid and warm, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped as his hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he carried you to the edge of the bed, lowering you onto the soft mattress without breaking the kiss. His hands roamed over your body, exploring with a mixture of reverence and urgency, while his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and full of need.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access as your fingers tangled in his dark hair. “Then stop holding back,” you whispered, your voice breathless.

His answering grin was wicked, and the way his hands and lips worked over you left no doubt that he intended to do just that.

Auston’s lips hovered over yours again, brushing so lightly it was maddening. His breath was warm, teasing, as he paused just long enough to make you ache for him. His fingers traced the curve of your jaw, skimming down the column of your throat, his touch featherlight but purposeful, setting every nerve in your body alight.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine.

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging gently before releasing it. “Then do something about it.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, and in a flash, his lips were on yours, demanding and full of heat. He kissed you like he wanted to consume you, like he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t anymore. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped as you felt the hard evidence of his desire pressing into you.

“Auston,” you breathed, the sound barely audible but laced with need.

He seemed to snap at the way you said his name, his kisses becoming hungrier, rougher, as his hands roamed with purpose. One slid under your sweater, fingers spreading wide over your bare skin, the heat of his touch branding you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his lips moving to your jawline, then down the side of your neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin there, soothing it with his tongue, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped.

“Show me,” you challenged, your voice trembling but firm.

Auston pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes burning with intensity. He reached for the hem of your sweater, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulled it up and over your head. The way his gaze darkened as it swept over your body made your cheeks flush, but the heat pooling low in your belly quickly overtook any hint of shyness.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he said, his voice reverent as his hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the curve of your waist.

You tugged at his sweater in response, eager to level the playing field. He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, but he obliged, pulling it off in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor. Your hands immediately roamed over his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle and the smattering of dark hair that led down to the waistband of his trousers.

Auston’s mouth captured yours again, his kisses urgent as he lowered you onto the bed. His weight settled over you, grounding you, and you arched into him, your bodies aligning in a way that made you ache for more.

His lips left a trail of fire as they moved down your neck, across your collarbone, and lower still. He paused at the lace of your bra, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching as his fingers deftly unhooked the clasp. He slid the straps down your arms, his eyes darkening further as he took you in.

“Mmm baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing over the curve of your breast before closing around your nipple, his tongue flicking teasingly.

Your back arched, a soft cry escaping your lips as he lavished attention on you, his hands caressing and kneading in time with his mouth. Every touch, every kiss sent a wave of heat coursing through your body, building an unbearable tension that demanded release.

“Auston, please,” you whispered, the need in your voice making his jaw tighten.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt and tugging it down along with your underwear. The cool air brushed your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his hands as they explored the newly exposed skin.

“You’re incredible,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your hip as his hands spread your thighs.

Your breath hitched as his mouth found your core, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles that made your head fall back against the pillow. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he worked, the tension inside you coiling tighter with every flick of his tongue, every gentle graze of his teeth.

“Oh my God, Auston,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer.

He groaned against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. His pace quickened, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to push you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” he murmured, his voice husky and commanding, and it was all you needed.

Your body tensed, and a wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him. Auston slowed his movements, guiding you through the high until you were left boneless and gasping for air.

He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh before crawling back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with promise.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low and warm, a hint of pride in his tone.

You smiled, your fingers trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. “Not done yet,” you replied, your voice teasing but full of intent.

Auston’s grin widened, and as you pushed his trousers down, he leaned in, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“Good. Because I’m not nearly finished with you.”

Auston’s grin was wicked, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire as he kicked off his trousers and boxers in one smooth motion, revealing every inch of him. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering, your breath catching at the sight of him—broad, strong, and entirely ready for you.

He hovered over you, the heat of his body radiating as his lips met yours again, slow and deliberate, sending sparks through your entire being. His weight pressed you into the mattress, grounding you even as your head spun with anticipation.

“Still sure?” he asked softly, his voice thick with restraint, though his body betrayed how much he wanted you.

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation, your nails dragging lightly over his back.

Auston groaned, capturing your lips in another searing kiss before reaching into the nightstand. He fumbled briefly before pulling out a foil packet, his eyes never leaving yours as he tore it open and rolled the condom on.

“Perfect,” he murmured again, leaning down to kiss you, slow and languid, as if savouring the moment before everything changed.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he positioned himself at your entrance, pausing just long enough for his eyes to meet yours. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver through you.

Then, with a slow, steady thrust, he pushed into you, filling you completely. You gasped at the stretch, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to him.

“God, you feel so good,” he muttered, his forehead dropping to yours as he started to move, his hips rocking in a rhythm that was both gentle and utterly consuming.

Every thrust was measured, deliberate, the pressure building with each roll of his hips. His mouth found yours again, his kisses messy and desperate as the pace between you began to quicken.

“Faster,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need, and Auston obliged, his movements becoming more urgent. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your shared breaths and soft moans.

“Mmm, you’re so fucking good for me,” he murmured against your neck, his lips and teeth grazing the sensitive skin there as his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he drove deeper.

Your nails raked down his back, and the sound he made—a deep, guttural groan—sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly. The tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“Auston, I’m so close,” you managed, your voice breaking as your body began to tremble.

His movements became relentless, his hands clenched the sheets beneath you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was all-consuming. “Let go for me,” he whispered, his voice rough, and it was all you needed.

Your release crashed over you, your body arching into his as waves of pleasure rolled through you, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him. And Auston followed just seconds later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, a low, broken moan escaping his lips as he found his own release.

He collapsed onto his forearms, careful not to crush you, and the two of you lay there, your bodies tangled and slick with sweat, your breathing heavy but content.

After a moment, Auston pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re amazing,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled, your fingers trailing lightly over his cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and as he rolled to his side, pulling you into his arms, you couldn’t help but think that this—Auston, you, and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world—was exactly where you were meant to be.