#long distance moving toronto

[tr1927]

Car Storage Toronto

Tippet Richardson offers secure and reliable car storage services in Toronto, ensuring your vehicle is kept safe and protected.

[doecrossing]

Been feeling an overwhelming sense of melancholy + general stress these past couple days ughhh

[trustcanadiantoronto]

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Prologue

A/N: So, if you know me, you know that I love hockey. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's hockey romances because they are always so inaccurate that it's take you out of the story SO QUICK! Like what do you mean the captain of this NCAA D1 team is undrafted? What do you mean she magically has access to an NHL locker-room in the middle of a game? So this is my response to that! A super self-indulgent Nessian Hockey AU. For additional hockey context: Cassian is a defenseman for the NY Rangers; Rhys is a center for the Montreal Canadiens; Az is a winger for the Nashville Predators; and Lucien is a winger for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Anyways! Hope everyone enjoys this prologue and this absolute meet-ugly! Happy final day of @nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, tilting her head back against the leather of the seat. Almost instantly, she scrunches her nose, the stale scent of cigarettes, of sweat and previous occupants, flooding her senses. Eager for a distraction, she peers out the window instead. The skyscrapers loom like shadowed giants on either side of the road, a cascade of colorful lights spilling from their windows and reflecting off the wet roads, the puddles from the earlier rain. Throngs of bodies move along the sidewalks, neither the late hour or the dark clouds still clinging above deterring them clearly.

The city that never sleeps indeed.

The cab jerks to a stop along the curb, the driver not even bothering to turn around and say anything to her, merely tapping the fare display. With a roll of her eyes, Nesta fishes her wallet out of her purse to pay before finally slipping out of the cab. At least the driver pulls her suitcase from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk beside her.

“Nesta! You finally made it!”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow back down another sigh, takes all her willpower to force at least a hint of a smile to tug across her face. She can feel her earlier annoyance still simmering just beneath her skin, can still feel the exhaustion weighing down her bones. She’d give anything to be back in her own bed right now, anything to slip beneath her pile of blankets and curl up with a good book, but she’s here for Feyre, here to celebrate her baby sister.

So Nesta rolls her shoulders and plasters on an even wider smile before she turns around. But she should have known better, should have known that despite the physical distance between them, there’s no fooling her sisters. From the way Feyre raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching up in the barest hint of an unimpressed smirk, it’s clear she sees straight through Nesta.

“Sorry,” Nesta winces, her shoulders drooping already. “Journey from hell.”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Elain offers with an easy smile, stepping forward and taking the handle of Nesta’s suitcase.

“Or five,” Feyre adds with a chuckle.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t exactly disagree. A stiff drink definitely sounds appealing after the nightmare of the day she’s had.

“I saw online that a lot of flights were just straight canceled, so I think you’re lucky to have made it at all,” Elain comments, leading the way along the sidewalk.

“I don’t know that I’d call a six hour delay lucky,” Nesta grumbles, practically shuddering at the memory of being stuck sitting and waiting in an airport for so long.

Nesta follows her sisters inside the building, but they take the elevator down, rather than up, Elain leading the way toward a black SUV. She tells her sisters more about the horrible journey as they walk. About the surprisingly long line at security. About the storms in the midwest and the delays and havoc they wreaked on all flights. About the child that seemed determined to scream for the entire five hour flight.

Once Nesta’s bags are securely locked away in Elain’s car, they return to the elevator and take it all the way up to the eighteenth floor, the doors opening with a soft ding. There’s no stopping the way Nesta’s jaw slackens as she takes it all in. A large centerpiece extends from the floor and fans out into the ceiling, the lights embedded within it casting the entire bar and its occupants in glittering golds. Live music seems to be coming from somewhere, twining and molding with the laughter, the conversations, filling the space.

But it’s the windows that really draw Nesta’s attention. Floor to ceiling windows seem to line every wall, offering a truly panoramic view of all of New York City and the Hudson. It’s a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights and night sky through the rain droplets still clinging to the panes.

“Wow,” Nesta breathes, taking it all in. “This place is definitely nicer than I was expecting.”

“If you think this is nice, you should see their venue.”

It takes a few moments for Elain’s words to register, but then Nesta is snapping her head toward Feyre. “You have a venue already? Does that mean you’ve picked a date?”

“Yes,” Feyre answers, unable to bite back her grin. “Next summer. July specifically, after Rhys’s season has ended.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit optimistic to think he’ll still be playing through June?”

“Elain!” Feyre exclaims, reaching out to smack the middle Archeron in the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Elain shrugs innocently. “It’s true. I mean what’s their current record again?”

“Because the Leafs do so well when they choke every year?”

“At least they make the playoffs.”

Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.”

“Feyre!” Elain squeaks out, her cheeks flooding with a blush.

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.”

“Rhys, this is my oldest sister, Nesta,” Feyre offers, sidling up against Rhys’s side, her fiancé’s arm settling over her shoulders with comfortable ease.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Rhys greets, holding up the glass in his free hand in a mock cheers. The gesture is a bit sloppy, some of the amber liquid in the glass sloshing over the rim and spilling across his fingers, and Nesta realizes there’s a haze to his violet eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” Feyre mouths, clearly reading Nesta’s expression.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand,” Rhys suddenly says, as though he’s only just realized. “We need to fix that immediately.”

Rhys turns on his heel, pushing his way through the various guests gathered to celebrate him and Feyre without a care. Nesta rolls her eyes, but Feyre has a wide, soft smile on her face as she watches him go, eyes practically sparking with fondness. It’s clear this is the man that makes her youngest sister happy, so she can’t fault him too much.

“He’s right, you know. You do need a drink still,” Feyre says, looping her arm through Nesta’s.

Feyre leads the way toward the bar built around the large centerpiece. She leans over and gets the attention of one of the bartenders with ease, ordering what she tells Nesta is the couple's signature cocktail. It seems to be some sort of margarita, a deep blue in color with edible glitter that looks almost like stars swirling through the liquid.

“So…” Feyre starts, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So…?” Nesta echoes, although she has a strong suspicion she already knows where this conversation is going. She knows that expression on her sister’s face all too well.

“Rhys’s brothers are here tonight.”

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.”

Feyre sighs, turning so her hip leans against the bar, facing Nesta fully. “Why? I’m an excellent matchmaker. Just ask Elain…” Feyre looks over her shoulder, but frowns, turning in a full circle with her eyebrows pinched low. “Wait. Where did Elain go?”

“She and Lucien probably found some dark corner to fuck like the bunnies they are,” Nesta answers dryly. It’s certainly the trend with those two, vanishing for a few hours before appearing again with slightly mussed clothes and hair, pink often clinging to the apples of Elain’s cheeks and a wide, shit eating grin plastered across Lucien’s face.

“That just proves my point! At least tell me you stalked his Instagram or something.”

“Emerie and Gwyn did.”

Her best friends had been trying to convince her to get back out there for a month now. Even with how much time has passed since everything happened, it still feels strange. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Emerie from dragging her out to bars for trivia nights and karaoke as if they’re the best places to meet someone new. It hasn’t stopped Gwyn from trying to tempt her to start a dating profile on at least one of the plethora of app options.

It hasn’t stopped either of them from hyping her up after they spent so long helping Nesta to piece together the shattered fragments of herself, of her life, back together. It’s why Nesta loves them, why she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

But when Feyre had suggested setting Nesta up with Rhys’s adopted brother, practically raving over the phone about what a good fit the two of them would be together, it had been like blood in the water for Emerie and Gwyn. Nesta had barely hung up with her sister by the time Gwyn had tracked down his social medias and had them displayed on the television ‘for the best viewing experience.’

Cassian Valdarez.

Any other emotions aside, Nesta can admit he’s attractive, that much was clear from the photos and videos on his Instagram. With his dark, curly hair tumbling down to his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes. He had been grinning widely in most of the photos, golden skin of his cheeks stretched and crinkles popping beside his eyes. But even the one where his lips were tugged up in a lopsided, cocksure smirk had Nesta staring.

Nesta had done a lot of staring.

Staring at the photo of him in sunglasses and shirtless, lounging casually on some sort of boat, wide shoulders and swirling lines of ink on full display. The photo of him in a locker room, dressed only from the waist down, showing off the tantalizing lines of his abs, his v-lines. The Reel of him working out, chest heaving and skin glistening, biceps bulging with every lift of the weights. The reel of him stick handling with just gloves, in a tank and shorts, the muscles and veins of his forearms working with each flick of his wrist.

“Okay, and?” Feyre’s voice draws Nesta back to the present.

“And what?”

“And what did Gwyn and Emerie think?”

Nesta sighs softly, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I mean, they said I should go for it.”

“Ha!” Feyre exclaims, loud enough to draw the attention of a few others up at the bar. “See? I’m right. A perfect match.”

“Feyre, don’t you think—”

“Feyre, darling, I keep losing you.” Rhys slips into the space behind Feyre, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dips his head enough to press his lips to her neck before raising his gaze to peer at Nesta over Feyre’s shoulder. “Sorry. Do you mind if I steal my fiancée away for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Nesta assures him, but it’s Feyre’s gaze she meets. “I’ll be fine.”

Feyre and Rhys vanish into the crowds hand and hand, and Nesta settles at the bar, sipping her drink. Her eyes flit around, but she truly doesn’t know anyone here outside of her sisters. And despite her earlier words to Feyre, all the people, all the sounds and the lights, are starting to grate against her nerves, prickling and dragging along her skin like nails. Even downing the remains of her drink doesn’t seem to help, the alcohol only weighing heavy in her gut.

Leaving her now empty glass on the bartop, Nesta spins on her heel and stalks toward one of the walls of windows. She glances around at the different tables set up, the booths that line the windows and offer the perfect seats for the views beyond. Maybe she can find a dark corner to hide in for a few hours, or maybe, if she’s lucky, Elain and Lucien will decide they want to leave early to continue whatever they’ve started in an actual bed.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

The deep voice has a shiver skittering up Nesta’s spine, warm breath fanning across her ear. She spins around and comes face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, a cocksure smirk she’s only seen in photo-form before. Cassian Valdarez, in the flesh. He doesn’t even bother for subtly as his gaze rakes over her, and Nesta has to swallow hard as she tracks the way he licks his lips.

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up in the space between them, snagging one of the stray strands of Nesta’s hair and twisting it around his fingers. Those same fingers skate down her neck, across her collarbones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch traces over her shoulder and down her arm before finally closing around her wrist, Nesta’s breath hitching at the warm of his hand, the size of it, and she can do nothing but follow along as he tugs her toward one of the booths by the windows.

He lets go long enough to fall back against the cushions, for Nesta to settle beside him, but then his hands are right back on her. This time, his palm slides against the skin above her knee, fingers teasing along the hem of her dress. His other arm stretches along the back of the booth, all but curling around her shoulders as he leans into her.

“You look gorgeous in this dress, you know.”

“But let me guess, it would look better on your bedroom floor?”

“You said it, not me, but I don’t disagree.”

Nesta snorts quietly, tempted to tell him that it was wrinkled when she yanked it out of her suitcase before she awkwardly changed into it in the airport bathroom. But she never gets the chance to. Cassian lifts his hand until his fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her chin up enough that he can slot their lips firmly together.

The kiss takes Nesta by surprise, but it doesn’t take her long to respond. She moves her lips against his, Cassian’s grip on her chin holding her exactly where he wants her. When his tongue slips into her mouth, she moans softly, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt to keep herself steady and to keep him close.

Cassian pulls back just enough that he can murmur, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” Nesta blurts out before she can stop herself. She’s certainly not opposed to the idea, but with tonight being the first time they’re meeting, she thought he might want to get to know her more first. What exactly did Feyre tell him about her?

“You know what they say. No time like the present.”

“I should probably tell my sister I’m leaving then.”

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?”

Nesta is sure that she must have misheard him. “What?”

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Do you even know my name?” Nesta snaps, pulling further away from him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“You didn’t even want to ask for it before you kissed me? You don’t even want to ask for it now?”

“Look. We both know what you came here for, what you puck bunnies are always looking for, and trust me, sweetheart. I am more than happy to give it,” Cassian offers, the way his eyes dance over her frame again nothing short of a leer. It stokes the anger flaring in Nesta’s veins higher, until it burns bright and hot.

“Wow,” Nesta scoffs, pushing up to her feet. “Fuck you.”

Nesta doesn’t even wait to hear whatever sputtering response he might give before she turns on her heel and stalks away from Cassian, pushing through bodies to put as much distance between them as she can. She’s never felt more stupid, can’t believe that she allowed Feyre to convince her that Cassian was some great guy, that the two of them would be some perfect match.

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs.

Because of course. Of course, Cassian is just like every other guy, only thinking with the head between his legs without a single care for what happens once the sun rises. He’s exactly what Nesta expects from a professional athlete, cocky and sure of himself, expecting every girl to fall at his feet ready to worship him and suck his dick.

She finds Elain and Lucien in one of the other booths near the opposite side of windows. Elain has her legs draped across Lucien’s lap, giggling around the straw of her drink. Lucien seems to be smirking through whatever story he’s telling, his arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers toying aimlessly with the soft brown curls of Elain’s hair.

“Can we go?” Nesta interrupts, looking between the two.

Elain blinks a few times, but then she starts nodding her head. “Of course. You’ve already had such a long day.”

Elain pushes up and to her feet, wobbling just slightly in her heels, but Lucien is there right behind her, his hands spanning across her waist to steady her. She smiles over her shoulder up at him before turning her attention to her purse, rooting around with a frown.

“Wait. Where are the keys?”

“I have them, my love,” Lucien answers, holding up the keys dangling from his fingers. He turns his attention to Nesta, offering her a wink. “Don’t worry. She’s not driving.”

Lucien slides his hand into Elain’s, leading all three of them through the party and back toward the elevators. Nesta keeps her head down as she follows behind her sister and brother-in-law, and she certainly doesn’t bother to look back. Besides, it’s not like anyone is watching her. She’s quite confident a certain hockey player has already found some other poor, unsuspecting girl to capture his attention.

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK;

Y/N ‘BELLS’ MARNER

ABOUT; y/n marner!

she met jack via cole caulfied, whom she was long distance friends with for years on end. they ended up visiting toronto, meaning y/n was able to see cole and from there, jack and y/ns love ‘bloomed.’

her n jack were long distance for a year, until a few months after her 19th birthday, she moved to new jersey with him. she was often with him at the michigan house when he went.

he ended up cheating on her for four months, she found out on her 20th birthday during a surprise party. will do a chap on that!

her n auston are really close because of mitch!! they have a sibling bond, so no romance will happen.

trevor n bells had a really big falling out because she hooked up with someone else when she was still trying to get over jack. he called her a slut because he knew jack was still hooked on her even if he cheated and it just caused a whole fight. will have its own chap!

y/n is friends with gracie abrams, madelyn cline, zendaya, etc. and shes a girls girl.

the guy she hooked up with is the ‘guy’ in is it over now who ‘unbuttoned her blouse.’ fiona (jacks current gf) is the ‘laid down on your couch’ girl xx

y/ns birthday is august 3rd. she was born in 2002, so a year and a few months younger than jack!

shes really into producing her own music, like taylor, but she gets help every once in awhile. her brother helps sometimes too.

she can be such a sap sometimes, big ass crybaby. like her brother wins a game? tears bc shes so proud of him. cole gets a goal? tears.

y/n can be such a bitch tho, in a good way! aka ntwdt part six. she does snap back a lil

her nickname “bells” came from her bringing cowbells to every hockey game whether it was for her brother or her friends or jack. she would shake it hard, while cheering. therefore, they called her bells.

she had a really good friendship with john marino and nico hischier. they were some of her best friends when she lived with jack.

shes already working on her second album!!

thats all for now ♡

thought bells deserved her own origin type of thing

tags; @honethatty12 , @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lovinbarzal , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @shadowsndaisies , @lxnceclercs , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @Robloxlover2007

guys if tags dont work im sorry 😞 my phones bugging

[iheartzegras]

different type of love -jack hughes

request: @your-mom369 14 and 18 with jack?

prompts: “i don’t want to be just friends anymore” and “what’s the matter? you can tell me”

requests are still open, and my prompt list is pinned!

——————————————————————————

you and jack had been best friends since the first grade. inseparable really. you both never left each others side, no matter the distance between you two for hockey, you still talked daily.

it all started when you had moved to toronto during the summer. you just so happened to become neighbours with the soon to be familiar boys. as your parents were taking the boxes inside from the van, you saw jack and his brothers playing outside. jack particularly caught your eye because of his energy. you were normally a shy girl, but he really did look like he would be a fun person to stick with.

a couple minutes later you felt a tap on your shoulder. standing behind you is the boy that interested you the most. he held out his hand and introduced himself. “hi. im jack, i live next door!” he said while grinning like a fool. “hi, im y/n” you shyly said. “it’s okay, don’t be shy! wanna be friends?” “yeah sure!”

that one small introduction, lead to a lifetime friendship. after that day, the two of you, occasionally his brothers that you found to be quinn and luke, would always play after school. even at school, the two of you would stay by each other’s side the whole time.

fast forward until now

ever since you and Jack became best friends, his family invited you to the lake house every year. this year in particular you were extra excited because you got to see jack. you hadn’t seen jack since he moved to new jersey for hockey.

after packing your things, you began your drive to the lake house. it was quite a long drive, so after making some stops on the way there, you finally arrived. it looked just the same. the deja vu coming back every time you came.

waking inside you were greeted by luke and quinn who both yelled “y/n!” at the same time. although your bond with jack was seemingly better, you also were incredibly close to the pair of brothers as you practically grew up with them. you were like a sister to them, and they were like your brothers.

as you walked into your designated room, it was refreshing. everything still in its place from last summers events. this space was your comfort place. the smell of the room just like your perfume. you plopped right on your bed, and before you knew, you were dead asleep.

you were harshly awoken by a tall figure jumping next to you on the bed. with your vision blurry you tried to see who it was. looking a bit closer you realized, it was jack. oh how you missed him too much. you practically jumped into his arms and giving him the most loving hug you’ve ever given.

“jack!” “y/n!” the two of you yelled in synch. you both dove into another hug, but this time with passion. that was new. to say that you haven’t thought of you and jack being a couple, was a lie. you definitely have, but you brushed it off because you felt as though it would never work. maybe some old feelings were being brought back up.

later on, after dinner, some of the other friends showed up. trevor who you had grown close with greeted you with a big hug and then whispered something into your ear. “so, you and hughesy? i think you’ve got something going on” to which you replied with “what, where did that come from? and no, we’re just friends.”

all of you were sitting by the fire roasting some s’mores. everyone was busy, but you couldn’t help but replay what trevor said to you earlier. could jack feel anything or was he just joking? do you like jack more than a friend? too many things crowded your mind as you tried to relax but couldn’t. you needed to be alone to gather your thoughts.

“hey guys, im gonna head off to bed. goodnight!” you announced and hugged each of them. when you got to your room, you had changed into some shorts and an old t-shirt. you got into your welcoming bed and tried to doze off.

after hours of trying to fall asleep, you couldn’t. you had been restless all night and nothing helped. you decided to sit on the deck to see if the cool night air would help.

opening the door to the deck, you stepped outside and quietly shut it. you took your favourite seat that you had claimed to be yours, and sat down. you had gotten all trapped looking at the stars that you hadn’t noticed that someone had joined you. “what’re you doing out here all alone?” jack asked. “nothing, just couldn’t sleep. that’s all.”

too much silence had been happening for your liking. you look over at jack and said something truly bold. “have you ever thought of us as something more than friends?” you asked. he responded with “yes, actually. why? what’s the matter? you can tell me.”

after more silence you quietly said “i don’t want to be just friends anymore” “pardon?” he asked you to repeat. “i don’t want to be just friends anymore” you repeated louder.

jack was astounded. he wasn’t upset though, because secretly he had felt the same way all along. he paused for a minutes before responding again. “thank god. i couldn’t deal with the pain of being just friends for any longer. i’ve liked you since we were sixteen and skating laps around the rink holding hands.” he admitted. “really?” “yes. y/n, this is a big question, but will you be my girlfriend?” “yes of course jack!”

the new couple sat happily next to each other before jack took you inside to get some rest. the two of you cuddled for the rest of the night.

your childhood friendship had blossomed into something much more passionate and loving. as a small child, you would have thought such love would be intimidating and gross, but now, you feel so much more. it’s indescribable how much you feel for the man you love. it had only been a few minutes since he asked you to be his, but you already knew, he was the one.

——————————————————————————

ahhh, omg! im in love with this fic!

this was one of my longest pieces (i’ll still try and write longer in the future)

hope you all enjoyed! 🫶🫶

[tr1927]

Long Distance Moving Toronto

Tippet Richardson is a reputable and experienced moving company specializing in long distance moving Toronto. With a strong track record of efficient and reliable services, they ensure a smooth and stress-free moving experience for their customers.

[pedge-stuff]

trailer reunion (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," as always. this one skews a little more m! and a little less gn!, apologies if that puts anyone off.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: 5 weeks is a long, long time.

——————————————————————————

Your leg won’t stop bouncing. It’s not your fault, really— it’s the Edmonton Airport’s, for having such a conveniently located Tim Hortons, right outside the baggage claim. After the 7-hour red eye from JFK, with the connection through Toronto, the coffee was necessary.

The caffeine isn’t entirely to blame, though. If the taxi wouldn’t stop going so fucking slow, maybe you’d settle down. But the traffic is unyielding, so the 20 minute drive to your heartfelt reunion is looking more like 45. Apparently, shutting part of the city down to film a TV show really screws up peoples’ commutes. You’d waited long enough (a month and six days, but who’s counting?), surely an extra half-hour won’t kill you. But in the taxi, the minutes seem to stretch into years.

The filming schedule for The Last of Us has been brutal. From what Pedro has told you, there was apparently a strain to film both the first and second episode back-to-back; something about using the same locations and exterior shots. For him, it has meant a marathon of shooting… the only downside to being the star of the show.

SNL’s new season was in full swing anyways, so you’d had plenty to keep you busy. Spent enough late nights at 30 Rock, after many a panicked call to the dog walker, that you barely had to inhabit his otherwise vacant condo. You talked every night, usually Facetiming before bed, but the distance was wearing on you both.

Now, the only thing in between you and your man is this fucking traffic jam.

Though this wasn’t a surprise visit— you’d booked the flight as soon as you’d realized the SNL hiatus week lined up with The Last of Us breaking to change locations for the next episode— you did have one trick up your sleeve. Or, more accurately, under your mask.

You’d been attempting to grow facial hair well before meeting Pedro, but it had been a sparse and largely unsuccessful endeavor until very recently. Your jawline had filled in between your sideburn and chin, albeit slightly patchy. You’d been hiding it over Facetime, opting for regular calls a bit more and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Not the craziest surprise, but still, your heart thrums at the prospect of finally sharing it with him.

Of course, once you arrive to set, the obstacles multiply.

Some college kid in a neon yellow vest stops you before you’ve even managed to remove your duffle from the trunk of the cab.

“Covid testing is this way, please follow me,” he insists tersely. Self-consciously, you adjust the KN95 strap around your ear.

The kid leads you to a tent, where two people in full white hazmat suits, complete with gloves and face shields, ask your name and instruct you to pull down your mask. (There’s a joke in there somewhere, about infection at a show about infected, but you get the sense it might be inappropriate to fool around here.)

Once swabbed and registered, you move to leave, scanning the exit for anyone who might be able to help you navigate onto set. But you are immediately blocked by a hazmat woman.

“You need to wait for the rapid to clear,” she insists, pointing to a row of folding chairs. “Fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes, after 5 weeks. Just fifteen minutes. You resign yourself to a seat by the door.

It’s 4pm. You were supposed to have arrived during a stop down between shots— timed so that Pedro would be in his trailer, and accessible, when you arrived. It feels like that window is physically, tangibly closing as you watch the second-hand tick slowly. 

 Initially, you’d been hesitant to join him on set at all, but he’d insisted you come meet his “second family.” You’d met several of his colleagues via Facetime, when he’d called you from his trailer. Bella, in particular, you’ve taken a liking to— they pepper you with whispered questions about transitioning and gripes about the gender binary when Pedro has been forced to hand over the phone.

You check your phone. Nothing from Pedro, although his little blue dot looks stationary when you pull up FindMyFriends. The clock ticks. There is a burning sting each time you blink— that third cup of coffee is wearing off, and the 5am wake-up this morning is starting to catch up to you. Really, all you want to do is go back to your partner’s hotel room, said partner in tow, curl up on the king-sized and fall asleep watching some West Wing rerun. (Maybe also shower together, and then some. You can keep yourself awake for that.)

Finally, finally, finally, the hazmat woman returns. “You’re clear,” she announces, handing you a green sticker to adhere on your jacket. You make it through the tent flap, heart in your throat with anticipation— 

But you have no fucking idea where to go.

A sea of white tents lays before you, stations with people doing things of varying levels of importance. A neon slip of paper points you towards set, but that’s not where you’re headed. Finally, past a corralled group of extras in some really disgusting mushroom prosthetics, and a tent full of picked-over lunch offerings, you spot some trailers in the distance.

And apparently, a stranger with a duffle bag walking quickly towards actors’ trailers, yields a quick security intervention.

In their defense, you definitely look like a crazy person. 

“Do you have a clearance list, or anything?” You beg, discretely craning your neck to see over the guard’s neck. The trailers are right there. There are only a few, it shouldn’t take any time at all to find Pedro. He’s within arm’s reach and yet he couldn’t possibly feel further away as the guard talks code into a very official-looking walkie talkie.

“Roger.” He looks down at you. “Listen, you gotta go man. It’s a clearance-only set, and they’ve got strict covid rules, so—”

The green sticker may or may not get shoved in the man’s face. There may or may not be angry tears threatening to ruin your cool.  “I got covid tested! I’m clean, they let me through. They had me on their list. I’m—”

From behind you, a familiar voice cuts you off. “With me, Robbie.”

You whip around.

Jaw? On the floor.

Pedro looks… really fucking old. His hair has been sprayed gray, wily and wind-swept; the beard, too, is much grayer than normal. It’s all part of a dirty-looking, artificially stained, mostly denim-based costume. You file away for later, how attracted you are to seeing him like this. Jesus Christ.

He looks old, but he is here, and he is grinning at you, and he’s here.

“Aw, shit.” The guard talks into the radio again. “86. Sorry about that.”

Easy to ignore him, though, as you’re preoccupied with staring at your man.

Before you can move to pounce on him, close the final four feet of distance between you, a well-manicure hand splays menacingly out at you.

“Don’t even think about it,” Coco warns. “We have fifteen minutes for touch-ups and I do not have time to fix everything.”

Pedro’s nose twitches, frowning at you. You reach down to hold his hand, but it is… apparently also covered in make-up, looking red, nasty and broken.

Sorry, he mouths dejectedly.

The inside of his trailer is familiar, though it looks a little smaller in-person than it appears on Facetime. A mirror and counter, a decently sized couch, a bathroom, a desk in the corner. Pedro settles in the make-up chair, smiling backwards at you in the mirror.

“Drop your stuff,” he insists.

Little touches of your life together pepper the room in a way that grips your heart a little. A framed picture on the desk, which you recognize from last summer; a particularly nice day in Prospect Park with the dogs, captured in a Polaroid snapped candid by a total stranger. You’d declined it, at first, assuming it was a weird fan thing. But they had insisted, leaving the picture behind and walking away. It was too lovely to leave.

The sweatshirt draped over the arm of the sofa is yours— an old NYU hoodie Pedro usually travels with. He claims it’s a ‘security blanket,’ and honestly, he might only be half-joking. A note you’d recently sent in a package (he’d accidentally left his whole box of contacts at home), taped up on the mirror, alongside a photo strip with Sarah from some gala a couple years back.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Pedro says quietly, watching you look around. “Take your mask off, baby, I’m assuming you cleared testing if you made it through the front.”

In your excitement to reunite, you almost forgot the little surprise. His jaw drops, into an awed smile. With the un-fake-injured hand, he reaches up to palm your cheek. Runs a hand up and down your jaw, scratching lightly along the new hair.

You turn enough to plant a kiss on the pulse point of Pedro’s wrist. Capture his hand with yours, against your face, to feel him for the first time in over a month.

“Oh! The oil is working,” Coco has paused, midway through spraying something silvery and chemical-smelling to Pedro’s temples. She had suggested it surreptitiously a few months back, off-handedly, and you’d been religiously using it since. The woman knows her shit.

Pedro continues to thumb at the new scruff, transfixed. His jaw muscle twitches.

“I’ve uh—” He stalls out. “Uh. Sorry. Dinner. Craig—”

You step backwards, pulling your hand down to hold in his lap, instead. He huffs.

“Craig wants to go to dinner tonight, since we’re wrapping in Edmonton. I guess there’s this restaurant he is insisting we have to try, it’s a whole thing. Big group. I didn’t give him an answer, in case you’re tired and wanna just head back to the hotel? But we can go, either way it’s fine, I figured…”

“Pedge,” you interrupt. “It’s all good. I’d be happy to go, it sounds fun.”

He exhales. “Thank god, because it’s like a spouse-thing, Neil and Craig’s wives are here.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Spouse?”

Just to get a blush out of the man. You’d discussed it, of course, but had yet to make moves. Being marked soothed any sense of urgency— you were committed by flesh and blood, and that was ultimately more binding than a ring or ceremony. But, still.

“Joking, love." Despite the coffee, a yawn sneaks up on you. "I might crash on the couch for a bit, when you go back."

He glances at his phone. "We only have one more shot to get alts on. Neil swears we have a hard-out in an hour. Close your eyes, and I'll be right back."

— — — 

You didn't mean to actually fall asleep. Just lay there on your phone and zone out for a bit. But suddenly, you're waking up, to the feeling of a mouth on your own.

A familiar mouth. Warm, scruffy around the edges, a little pepperminty.

"We're done," Pedro whispers. "Coco says I can fuck up my makeup now."

When you open your eyes, he is hovering above you, grinning like a wolf. He's still in costume, though the denim overshirt is already half-unbuttoned.

"Are you done being gross?"

Sitting up, you find Bella in the doorway. They waste no time flinging themselves at the couch.

"In the flesh!" You both laugh.

"Shorter in person, huh?" Pedro is rewarded by a hearty shove from his costar, as he scrubs a makeup wipe across his face.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you can tell it's gotten dark outside in the time that you've been asleep. "Craig still insisting on dinner?"

"Mm. It's like fancy Mediterranean, I think."

"Fetaaaaa," Bella pumps the air. "Nice."

The evening stretches out before you— a few more obstacles between you and the hotel bed. But Pedro is here, in the flesh, and he's smiling at you in a way that forms the little crinkles beside his eyes, and you think maybe you can sit through a few hours of fancy dinner and small talk.

You've waited this long, anyways.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

A heart full of regret - William Nylander

A/N - This fic still falls under William Nylander and the fem reader who is a global super-star.

Just a side note (for anyone that might be wondering), I have been honestly struggling to find my way back to The Distance and the Time between Us . Between my work and personal commitments, it’s been super challenging to get back in that headspace.  Admittedly, my perception changed a little of William since the Sweden trip so I have been reworking a few things in my head about him too.  

I tried to tie this side piece into the main Distance and Time series as well so hopefully I can get back to outlining some of the earlier years between William and the reader and have it all flow together.  I tried to make sure I’m well on my way with getting Part 2 completed of this piece before I posted Part One.  I apologize if I seem all over the place sometimes.

Thank you to everyone for giving this a shot 🙂

Word count 8k+

Warnings: 18+ content, general smut (p in v, oral m receiving, c*ck massage), swearing, angst, reflections of the end of a relationship, casual sex

Late November, 2023

A familiar chime echoes once again through the condo, signalling a step closer to yet another tryst for William Nylander.  This time, it’s Trina; a lively and pretty young woman in her early twenties whom he crossed paths with recently while out for his daily walk with Pablo and Banksy.  

Prior to the trip to Sweden for the NHL Global Series, William wouldn’t go too many days without a casual encounter with an attractive female, which would lead to introductions and further chats, and often enough, to the bedroom of whomever's place was closest.  Ever since Williiam moved to this upscale part of the city, he noticed there was no shortage of beautiful and stylish women that lived within a short distance of his doorstep.  Now having returned from his beloved Stockholm, where he shone even brighter than the spotlights themselves, there had been a further surge of interested parties coming out of the woodwork.  

William had been in committed relationships for long periods of time prior to this season, but throughout the other periods of time when he was single, he felt there was no harm in having small feasts of women here and there to satisfy his sexual appetite.   

William had consistently been very low-key about divulging (m)any details about his personal life, whether it be in interviews or across all the social media apps.  He was no stranger to his name being thrown around in the news by reporters hungry to spawn a certain narrative about his game performance or even his personality; many times, he was not cast in a favorable light but somehow his laid back personality carried him through.  Regardless of what kind of attention he received, William never came across like any of it went to his head, to any great degree anyway.  

However, after his well-documented week in Sweden, and the internet exploding after his appearance on the “Bianca” show where he provided some very personal details of his own sex life, William was reaping the benefits of his re-energized superstardom.  As a result, he was getting more notoriety with being a handsome, talented, virile, and notably single, professional hockey player.

All of the resurgence of popularity does not come without a flipside - a downside to which the descent is much longer lasting that the ascent to stardom.  William knew this and he was fortunate that he had people in his life that would remind him to be careful of the traps and pitfalls tied to such celebrity.   The trouble is there was no one quite like that here in Toronto that he could just call and hang out with, that he could just “be” with; the people that cared for him most, and that he cared for, were all dispersed between the US and Sweden.  And as much as he loved his two beloved dogs, they weren’t great for a two-way conversation. 

William’s phone chimes again.

Be there in 5 😘

William acknowledges the text and heads into the washroom to do his traditional freshening up routine.  

“She's nice, boys - you met her on our walk”, William said to Pablo and Banksy as he returned to the living room; the dogs cock their heads to the side in response.  William gives them both a hearty and affectionate scratch behind their ears, and chuckles as their rumps move in unison showing their adoration for their dog dad.

William flopped down on the couch and continued to absent-mindedly scratch the dog's backs and scrolled through some more messages on his phone.  

After glancing at numerous DM's received as of late, something shifted in William’s mind; an empty feeling that he only just recognized at that moment.  He realized, rather suddenly, that he really wasn’t into Trina at all and the dread of her impending arrival started to build within him.  William had only invited her over for one purpose.  She was merely coming to scratch an itch, an itch that would still linger long after she’s long gone from his bed.  He didn’t have the heart to cancel on her with her just being literal seconds from his door, but he made up his mind right there that this would not be a long visit.  

Say you’ve got a migraine he thought to himself.   

William’s phone rang, a picture of his mom appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Mom…how’s it going?”  William smiled.

They exchange some light-hearted small talk for a few moments when William hears a soft knock at the door.  He takes his mom off speaker-phone and starts walking toward the door.  He thinks he should probably just tell his Mom he has company and end the call but he’s come to realize that he would much rather talk to her than the girl on the other side of the door.  Trina will just have to come in and wait.

“Mom, two seconds - just letting someone in”.

“I can let you go - there’s just something I need to discuss with you about Christmas so we’ll need some more time to talk.   I’ll talk to you later William, ok?”

“No - Mom, please…if it’s about you guys coming for Christmas, I’d like to get that sorted out, ok?  Just gimme a sec.”

He opens the door for Trina and mustering a smile, he invites her in.  She glides past him and gives him her best “come fuck me” eyes, ghosting her fingers along his covered abdomen.  William catches the scent of her perfume; between that and the deep blue bodycon dress she’s wearing under a sleek, belted wool coat (the dress he feels is a little over the top given he didn’t plan to leave the apartment), he momentarily forgets his migraine plan as he stares at the contour of her cleavage and her ass as she enters the living room.   

She approaches the couch where the two dogs are waiting anxiously, but politely, for some affection.  Trina looks at the dogs and tries to give a command for them to get down off of the furniture; looking back at William she said “sorry, I just don’t want the dogs slobbering all over me”.  

There’s a sinking feeling in William’s stomach; he really wants to get out of this now.  

Migraine plan is back on.  Say you’ve got a migraine right after a few sips of wine correcting his first thought to himself.

“Boys….off,” William commands.  He feels like shit watching his cherished companions skulk off the couch.

He motions to the phone, “It’s my Mom, she’s just got a quick question but I won’t be long, just going to take in here” nodding toward his bedroom.  “There’s a bottle of white wine in the fridge; help yourself.  I'll be right out”.  

William enters his room, closes the door and lets out a long sigh.

Switching to his native tongue, he resumes the call.  

“Ok, Mom…what’s up?” 

“You sure I’m not interrupting?  You have a guest, William”.

“It’s ok, she’s good…it’s fine, Mom”.

“So Dad and I have been figuring out what might make sense for all of us to get together for Christmas.  We’ve had an interesting offer if we come to Toronto, but we wanted to talk with you about it first.”

William senses that his mom seems tentative; her tone just seems off.

“...oh - okaaay?...”

Camilla hesitates and then begins.  “Well, we recently received a phone call from Y/N”.

William’s stomach is no longer sinking.  It’s plummeting.  His heart begins to race hearing your name.

“She reached out to ask if she could borrow back that guitar she gave your sister a few years ago.  There’s an exhibit that was running in London but has now moved on to Toronto showing the different guitars she’s collected over the years and the stories behind each one”.

William remains silent at the other end.  His face is drained; any colour he had initially has been swapped out with a dull, achy feeling.   

“She was very apologetic for calling but she explained that although it wasn’t part of the London exhibit, she would really love to have it included at the Toronto exhibit, given it’s in her hometown and she has a strong sentimental attachment to it”.  

Camilla was only met with further silence from William. She knew this would be difficult for him, given the history you and he shared.

“She ended up coming to Stockholm to pick it up herself.  We invited her to stay for a meal so we had a long visit, which was nice.”

William could barely think to form a sentence; a million thoughts ricocheted off of one another in his brain. 

“So, anyway, she asked if we were coming to visit you in Toronto this year for Christmas. I said we weren’t sure.  I told her that when we were there last year, it soaked up a lot of our time trying to get anywhere since we were split up between your place and the hotel.”  

Although William didn’t speak, he agreed silently  in his head that it was chaotic from time to time last year to line up the logistics with the various designated meeting places and transporting his family in the heavy downtown traffic.

“Are you still there darling?” Camilla asked.

“I’m here, Mom.” William quietly responded.

“Getting to the point, she said that if we wanted, and if you were comfortable with it, that we could use her house while she’s away visiting her family.  She said she would be happy to arrange anything we needed so we can just relax and spend time together.  Your Dad was impressed that she came up with the idea at all…then she just offered it up straight away.”

Turns out, when he tells Trina that he has a migraine, it may not be far from the truth.  

“Sounds like her - always going above and beyond for everyone”, William said.  His tone was indiscernible; it was hard for Camilla to tell whether her son was just emotionless or if he was really hurting.  

“You don’t need to answer right away, but it really would be such a great option for us. She told us a bit about the layout; it would almost be like being back at one of those villas in Saint Tropez….only in winter. I suppose you already know that.”

William knew what his Mom was saying was true.  He knew and loved your house, and not just for all the grandeur of the amenities; the indoor/outdoor pool, the games room and the theatre room to name a few.  He loved how it felt whenever he was there with you.  It didn’t matter if it was just the two of you, or if it was a get together with friends,  you always made it so warm, comfortable and inviting for anyone that came to visit.   

“Yeah, ok Mom, I’ll think about it and will call you back”.  William ends the call and remains in his room, trying to regroup.

Ugh. Trina’s out there waiting 

He walks out and sees Pablo and Banksy lying on the floor by the entrance door.  He had forgotten he had banished them from the couch so apologetically, he told them to hop up on his bed.  If they’re sad, they can at least be comfortable.

“Hey you,” Trina smiles warmly.  

“Sorry about that - with the time difference and all, it’s hard to sometimes get a chance for my Mom and I to talk”, William fibbed.

William sits beside Trina on his couch and sees she has poured a glass of wine for her and him.  

Take a drink, say you have a headache, get her out of here.

“Was it not a good call?  You don’t look well…” Trina said, her perfectly shaped brows furrow.

“Nah, it was fine - I just feel a headache coming on I think”.

“I’m sorry…can I do something?  I know this thing - like a massage for your neck that helps reduce pressure from your head.” Trina’s hopeful tone was apparent.  

William thought for a moment and then reluctantly agreed.  She positions him in the exact spot she needs and readjusts herself sitting on her knees behind him.  She instructs William to lower his chin to his chest and he obliges.  

 William closed his eyes and let Trina’s hands try and work out the pressure that has built in his head since the phone call.  You used to do the same; the strength and dexterity in your hands from years of masterfully playing guitar, piano and drums always succeeded in releasing pressure from one area or another.  It usually led to a thoroughly enjoyable activity after the fact as well.

His memory calls William back to a night, many years ago, with you in his bed and you sheepishly asked if you could give him a cock massage, while he is blindfolded.  You said you had seen a video  (he got you to admit you were actually watching porn while travelling back to Toronto after a performance) of a woman giving the most insane massage to her boyfriend’s member and you desperately wanted to try it with William upon your return.  

[December, 2016]

“Isn’t it just like a hand-job?” William chuckled, lying on his back, his muscular everything fully exposed.

“Maybe a little - but it was more sensual than her just pumping away on it until…” you made an exploding hand gesture with one of your hands.   

William watched you, grinning ear to ear.  He felt his cock twitch, not just at the thought of your hands working his member but from the purely awesome sight of your beauty.  You were standing lighting candles by the bed in a short, black silk negligee that you had bought in Florence that summer.  You had bought it for yourself - you loved how you felt in it and oftentimes when you were alone at home, you would pad around the house on a lazy day wearing only that…and it felt wonderful.  Your long curls laid loose down your back; your sandy blonde mane layered with dark brown lowlights was tousled at the crown of your head from the passionate make-out session that had just occurred.  This was one of those nights where every open mouthed kiss was more delicious than the last and neither you could bring yourselves to stop.

You grab your black sleeping mask and with a coy smile, you put the flexible band of the mask between your teeth so it’s dangling from your mouth, and you crawl slowly from the foot of the bed toward William.  Your eyes are fixed on his stunning blues that appear to be darkening with pure hunger for you.  

You straddle his midriff - fucking god, his hard abdominal muscles against your entrance has you clenching your walls, wishing he was inside you.  Your pussy is primed and wet already for his cock but you’re able to push those urges aside.  You carefully place the mask over his eyes and gently expand the band, fitting it around his head.  Now fully blindfolded, you lace your fingers through his and bring his hands up to your tits as you rock back and forth.  

Fuck, he feels good.  You fight with that ongoing urge for his cock to drive into you fast and hard; first, you want to make him writhe and squirm with ecstasy with just your touch.  With this, you push the thoughts of him fucking you into oblivion to the side and stay with what you planned initially.  

Willing yourself to NOT put his cock in your mouth as you descend down his body, was a chore unto itself.  ‘It's right there, Y/N - just a little taste…’, your thoughts taunt you as you shake your head, trying to stay focused.

Finally, you seat yourself in a comfortable position and you help Willam shift his bum down towards you a little further.  

You generously apply some warming oil around his (shaved) pubic area and begin the process of smoothing the oil around, somewhat teasingly avoiding his growing erection.  

Applying a little more, you strategically drip the oil around just above his balls.  The liquid slowly trickles down from the base of his member and across the sensitive skin of his sac, his cock continuing to twitch from the sensation; you smile as you hear a small moan from William as he bites his bottom lip.

You begin smoothing your hands up the length of his dick and down the shaft towards his balls.  You repeat various motions, concentrating on his body reactions to the touches and stroking that your hands are providing.  You're pleased to hear William start to moan; his hips begin to move to the rhythm of your strokes.  When a large, translucent bead of fluid appears from the tip of his penis, you let out a soft moan.  It takes everything in you to not lean over and run your tongue through his arousal.  Although you love sucking his cock, you abstain as it's not on the menu tonight, not just yet.  Instead, you smear the precum around the tip using your thumb and forefinger, over and over again.  

William’s head falls to the side as a long moan leaves his mouth, followed by a curse word or two.  You experiment a little by grabbing the thick base of his cock, balls included, firmly in one hand, and with the other, you stroke his shaft of his member and his balls masterfully with your hands, using his seeping fluid for extra slickness.  

As his breath quickens, William’s muscles in his abdomen flex and contract as you continue to alternate stroking the head of his cock and using his arousal to glide your hand up and down his shaft and over his balls.  Soon, his hips instinctively rise and fall with every stroke, while louder grunts echo when you smooth your hands over the now purple head of his throbbing dick at a faster pace.  Veins are protruding from his pelvis all the way to his shaft and you sense William is getting close, as he grits his teeth and grasps at the large towel that covers the comforter on his bed.

As breathy gasps escape from his mouth, you can see and feel the eruption bubbling up through his shaft as his balls flex and constrict.  You hold his impressive cock firmly in place and continue to work the head of his cock with your fingers and hand until finally thick streams of cum shoot out of his tip.  Instead of just finishing him off with a few more pumps of his cock, you follow your recollection of the video and keep using his seed to lubricate his shaft and tip to keep stroking his cock, looking to draw out a longer and more intense pleasure.  

As you stroke and manipulate his member after his first orgasm, William becomes even more vocal…only managing short sentences through his strained voice, blurting out his gratification which was mixed with a whole lot of profanity.  More and more, his thigh muscles are flexed leading to more contouring of his hips and accentuating that god damned “V” that literally makes you throb at the sight of it.  

A long, strained growl marks the next explosion followed by a forceful “Fuuuuuuck mee” from William, almost chuckling as the cum spills out in thick ribbons.   You smile at the sight of him panting through his naturally pouting lips;  this experience with William was even better than what you had hoped for and as it turns out, it was just as fulfilling for you too.  

As William laid there, sprawled out and spent, he slid the blindfold off his eyes, leaving it resting on his forehead.  He gazes at you sitting in front of him not understanding how he could have ever gotten so lucky to even be able to kiss you, let alone have you give him two of the most earth shattering orgasms, within minutes of each other, with just your hands.

He was certain that he would lose his mind as he watched you slowly lean over his cock and lick the last remnants of cum from around the head.  

William inhales sharply as you flatten your tongue against the rounded tip for a more substantial taste.  And just because you could not control the urge anymore (he tasted and felt that good in your mouth), you slid the length of his softening cock all the way in your mouth until it touched the back of your throat.  You withdraw him from your mouth and gently lay his cock in back on his midriff.  Yep, he's definitely done for now.

“C’mere…that was just fucking amazing.  Seriously….fucking amazing, Y/N” William said with a low, gravelly tone as gently pulled you on top of him.  

You’re not sure where it came from but a brand new need for William washed over you.  It was something beyond sex; you yearned for him to just bring you into his sculpted arms and have them fully envelop you.  Gently, you slide your one hand under William’s head and you nestle your face into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips against his skin.  Your legs flank William’s torso and your other arm has looped under his other underarm.  In turn, William slid his one hand up all the way up from your thigh, along your spine up to the nape of your neck, gently grasping a small handful of your gorgeous locks.  His other arm slid around your waist, the silk fabric of your neglige gathered in his hand.  Although your core had pressure building from being in the position you were in, the overwhelming sense of calm and safety had momentarily usurped the need for his cock to be buried deep inside you.

After a few moments, William gently rolled you both on your sides, never releasing you from his hold.  You remained intertwined as William kissed your forehead, temple…wherever he could rest his lips against.  

“Kap’s going to be here tomorrow night with his new girl - think you could make it to the game and we can sneak back to your place after? I might have some ideas to try out on you now…” 

“Mmm-hmm - would love that” you said drowsily, nuzzling into William even further.

William kisses your head again and breaks from the embrace for a moment; leaning over top of you, he proceeds to blow out all the candles.  As his body pressed against yours, you take the opportunity to run your hands over his muscular flank, marvelling at the look and feel of such a beautiful physique.

As sleep found you both, you each drifted off with the quiet thoughts in your heads, that there was something very unique and special developing  between you.  

William snapped back to reality.  He had to admit; Trina’s hands felt pretty good and with that, William let out a groan. With the memories of you consuming his mind, William began to get hard as Trina continued to work on loosening his tense muscles.  William’s burgeoning erection caught Trina’s attention, and she wasted no time in moving her hands from his neck to his shoulders, down along his broad back muscles to his hips. 

“You like that, Willy?” Trina said, her tone low and sultry.   

“Mmm-hmph” 

“What about this?”  Trina’s hands brazenly reach around to cup his balls while sucking on his earlobe, slightly north of his diamond earring.  She palms his still-clothed dick and rubs his erection in slight circular motion.

“Mmmm….good….” William responds, his voice slightly strained.

William’s mind slides back and forth with conflicting thoughts, like a car fish-tailing on ice.  Images of you, your face, your body, your mouth, your taste, your touch - his desire for you - had penetrated his brain.  But the voice.  It’s not your voice.  It’s some random girl’s voice in his ear and William’s gut twists at the thought. 

Meanwhile, Trina was determined to seize her moment with the hockey star.  She stands up from her position on the couch and gently nudges William to turn so he’s facing her as she stands in front of him.  

William's eyes are fixed on the hem of her dress which has ridden up to the top of her thighs.  Trina follows William’s gaze and looking down at William, she smiles sweetly and begins to pull her hem up even further.

“You make me so hot, Willy” Trina said, the ‘v’ of her scarcely covered cunt now on display.

She brings one of William’s hands up towards her need, opens her thighs slightly and positions the palm of his hand right against her drenched entrance.  

“Shit” William said gruffly; his sweatpants have done little to mask his rigid dick.  Figuring he might as well have some fun, William’s mind all but dismisses his previous thoughts concerning you and concentrates on the girl in front of him.

William runs his middle finger from the top of Trina’s folds and firmly inserts the same finger deep inside of her.  Trina gasps with pleasure and both of her hands encircle William’s wrist holding his hand in place, she begins to rotate her hips over his digit, encouraging his finger to move deeper and curl inside of her.

William obliges by inserting his ring finger alongside his middle.  As William gyrates his hand, Trina’s head snaps back when he connects with her sweet spot.  William continues to finger fuck Trina; she releases her grip around William’s wrist and begins to knead her breasts.  

“Oooooh - Willy….your thick fingers feel so fucking good inside of me” Trina whines as William continues move his fingers into her wet core.  

“Let me suck your cock…I want your dick in my mouth”.

William again obliges, removing his fingers from her centre.  Trina steps closer to William and lowers herself between his legs.  She closes the distance between them, leaning in for their first kiss.  Trina places a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on William’s mouth.  Immediately he tastes a faint mint flavour mixed with something else, something stronger.  

Weed maybe, he thinks to himself.

Whatever it is, it's not doing much to improve his mood.

If there's anything William’s past sexual encounters have taught him, it was better in the long run to feign enjoyment than to show ambivalence or dissatisfaction toward the girl of the moment.  William is hopeful he won't have to fake anything at this point - fuck - he needs a distraction and goddammit, Trina’s just gonna have to be it.  

Thankfully, Trina moves on from William’s mouth and starts pulling his sweatpants and shorts off.

Moving right along…., William thinks to himself.

Trina licks a long strip up William’s shaft; she spits on the tip and begins to stroke his cock, trying to make him a little harder.  

The spit dries out without Trina even realizing it as she continues to pump his cock.  William flinches at the rough and dry sensation that her too firm of a grip left on his member. 

She lowers herself down to lap at his balls, enveloping one in her mouth at a time, and withdrawing it with an audible ‘pop’.  

She’s trying too hard, William pondered. 

He watches her alternate from ball to ball, with a ‘pop’ each time she withdraws her mouth.  Trina licks another stripe up his shaft.  “You like that, right Willy?  You like it when I lick your balls?” 

William gives a faint smile and leans his head back on the couch; not because he was enjoying Trina’s attempts at pleasuring him but to try and think of his personal turn-ons so he can get through this.  

William thought of you.  He thought of the way you always made his toes fucking curl whenever you took him in your mouth.  Deep in your mouth as you’d innocently, almost bashfully, make eye contact with him for just a few seconds here and there. He loved watching you working your magic with your tongue, mouth and your hands, smoothing back your curls to view the best angles of your face.  You never just sucked his cock.  You took your time.  You savoured him.  You made love to his cock and balls with your mouth and God, the moans you made while you tasted him always left him reeling.  

As it turns out, William’s images of you in his head had the desired effect.  Now with his diminishing erection reversed, William made some small adjustments to Trina’s methods in order to keep the momentum going in the right direction.

After a few more moments, Trina stood up and she fully disrobed in front of William.“Do you want to move to the bedroom?”  

If she’s anything, she’s confident, William muses.

His dogs had already been displaced once and he’s not about to do it again.  

“Let’s stay out here - on the couch…just gotta go grab something”.  

William stands up, naked from the waist down, and saunters into the bathroom.

Trina eyes his chiselled body walk away, almost as though she’s stalking her prey.  She had been hoping to meet William ever since she spotted him one morning leaving his building to go for a walk with his dogs.  Though he was dressed down in baggy sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and a backwards baseball cap,  William screamed affluence with the luxury designer labels scrawled across the articles of clothing.  He was wealthy, gorgeous, and seemingly single…three of Trina’s favourite qualities.  William being a popular professional athlete only further tempted Trina. 

Trina’s father, a wealthy executive of a real estate development firm headquartered in Toronto, had essentially gifted her a luxury condo unit in the same neighbourhood as William, once she had graduated from university (only graduating by the skin of her teeth [doing everything at university but apply herself to her studies]; regardless, it mattered not - she still had her degree).  

Both Trina’s parents had long realized, after the fact, the detrimental effects of doting on their only child’s every whim for so many years.  Privileged and spoiled were the two prevalent adjectives that described their daughter.  Therefore after graduation, as an ultimatum, Trina got a luxury condo (and all living expenses paid) as long as she came to work for her father as a junior executive in his firm.   Trina agreed, under the condition that her closest friend, Lara (really her only friend amongst a sea of party-goers and acquaintances), could come live and work with her too.

It worked well, or at least Trina’s father thought so.  If not for any other reason, Trina’s father could, at the very least, keep a watchful eye on his daughter and at the very most, attempt to infect her with a better work ethic.

While her friend Lara seemed to fit right in at the firm, Trina longed for an even easier life.  She wanted to be pampered, to be looked after - she did not want to get up every morning and head to an office just to do the bare minimum while she spent the majority of time shopping online.  

The one skill Trina had become quite adept at was pretending to be what she needed to be in order to get what she wants, in any given circumstance.

She had her sights on William now.  She could pretend to be a dog lover - that’s how she caught his eye to begin with.  She could pretend to be interested in his beloved Sweden, his family, his friends - hell, even the team…there was more than enough eye-candy to snack on with the Leafs.  She fit the bill of a trophy wife perfectly and whether she became one with William, or someone else, that was her ultimate goal.

Presently, Trina was pretending to be William’s personal pornstar.

Trina leaned back on the couch with her legs splayed, stroking her sensitive clit, awaiting William’s return.  When he finally emerged, his cock semi-erect already covered by a condom, he laid a towel on the couch and then sat down on the middle cushion.  He smiled at Trina who was now sitting in an upright position and motions for her to climb aboard.

Trina straddles William; her mouth devours him with more open-mouthed kisses. At this stage, William knew he was just going through the motions; there was zero chemistry, sexual or otherwise, between them.  

Struggling to keep his erection, he breaks from her kiss and rubs the tip of his cock back and forth through the slickness of her folds.  He positions the tip at Trina’s entrance.  Eventually (and gratefully), his cock is rigid enough to slide into her.     

Trina adjusted herself to William’s girth and began to slowly rock back and forth.  William was cautiously optimistic about how good this is actually starting to feel.  Trina had only succeeded in killing his hard-ons so far so he was hoping for a quick release; after she leaves he can just go to bed with his dogs and put this whole experience behind him.  

William grabbed onto Trina’s hips and drove his frustration into her.  She screamed in pleasure, calling his name as she bounced on top of him.  

Fuck - my neighbours are going to hate me.

Trina continued grinding, bouncing and rotating on Wiliiam’s cock at a furious pace; her chest  flushed with pink as she worked his cock and her tits bounced in William’s line of sight.  

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, Willy…like that” Trina whined emphatically.  

It was clear to William at that moment she was exaggerating most of the sounds she was making.  Hell, he had made you wail and scream with the most mind bending orgasms that you never thought were possible.  William knew that with you, your cries and grasps were genuine and that he was witnessing the real thing, several times over.

William had been around the block with his cock enough to know Trina was overacting and it was getting on William’s last nerve.

Moan after moan, hitting a higher decibel each time, William had reached his limit.  His hands circle Trina’s waist lifting her off his cock.  With no verbal cues, he positioned Trina back on the couch so he could enter her from behind.  He’s frustrated and annoyed at himself more than anything, so he’s just going to fuck her and hopefully the pillow she’s holding onto will muffle her noise.

William closes his eyes and enters Trina.  It’s not long before she’s grasping the arm of the couch with the force of William’s dick buried deep inside of her.  William grips her hips holding them steady as he continuously bottoms out, his encased shaft is slick and shiny with Trina’s wetness from her core.

“Faster, Willy!  Faster….oh god, harder, Willy!” Trina pleads.

Jesus - she’s trying to kill me.

Miraculously, William’s close to release.  His hips ram against Trina’s ass as hard and as fast as he could manage while Trina feverishly rubs her clit.  A loud shriek signals Trina’s orgasm.  Her pussy walls clenching helped William reach his own climax and a few thick streams of cum collect in the reservoir tip of the condom. 

Thank Christ this is over.

Trina half collapses on the couch and rolls onto her back.  Her sleek figure shines from the thin layer of sweat from their late afternoon’s strenuous activities.  

“Oh my God Willy…that was so good, so fucking good…” Trina chuckles, still out of breath. A lazy grin adorns her pretty face.  William, having already gotten up to dispose of the condom, returns to the living room, still naked from the waist down.

“Ha, yeah…well, I try” William smiles, grabbing a pillow to place on his lap .  

William paused for a moment as he surveyed the situation and whether Trina planned on staying longer.  

“I’m sorry to say this but I feel a migraine coming on - could we call it a night?”

Trina sat up and moved closer to William on the couch.  

“Oh..I’m sorry, I was hoping that massage, and well, everything else I did would have helped”.  

“No, no, the massage was great but I think the headache was already too far gone to really stop it.  I just need to crawl into bed, not move and have no sounds around me, and hopefully I’ll sleep until tomorrow.

Trina offers to stay multiple times and William declines each offer.  Although William was ready to snap, he kept his composure, pulled his pants back on, helped gather her things and politely escorted her to the door.

Trina leans in and plants another open-mouthed kiss on William’s mouth.  

William’s lack of reciprocation went unnoticed by Trina.

“Feel better, Willy - maybe call me later…if you can,” Trina smiles and leans in, giving him a hug.

“Yeah, thanks - have a good night”.  William waves as she enters the elevator and he then gently closes the door.

William hangs his head and exhales; there’s so much going on in his mind.  He goes into the bedroom, kneels on the floor and brings his face close to each of the dogs.

“Sorry boys….fuck.  Never again with that one”.

The dogs are quick to smother William with kisses.

“I’ll take you guys out in a few minutes, ok?”

William climbs onto his bed and grabs his phone.  He pulls up his Mom's number and types a quick note:

Hey Mom… if you’re sure, let’s do the Xmas thing at Y/N’s.  I’ll reach out to her myself 

William’s stomach flips at the thought of contacting you.  Despite the time that had long passed since William effectively removed you from his life, his mind would still betray him time after time with the many memories of you in his mind's eye. William often longed to reach out to you and in his quietest moments, William always held a very private and guarded hope that one day, you would wind up together.  

These thoughts only intensified for William when, in late July this past summer, William spotted you at Mitch and Stephanie’s wedding.  You had third-wheeled it with Tessa and Morgan, who had also tied the knot that summer in a much more secretive manner.  With Tessa being one of your closest friends of the last 10 plus years, she knew you might need a crash helmet when you initially laid your eyes on him for the first time in forever, so she and Morgan invited you to come along with them.  

When the moment came that you and William first glanced at each other, no air bag or crash helmet was needed.  You and William shared a long and lingering look at each other amongst the guests that meandered around the dancefloor.  Neither of you could control the wide smiles that spanned your faces.  For not only did everything seem right in the world for a mere moment, your dress and William’s pants were the exact same shade of lilac.  Your chosen outfits looked obnoxiously pre-planned and the comedy of your attire wasn’t lost on those in attendance that knew of your shared history.  They laughed and gestured at you both, all of them getting a kick out of the sight of the two of you being all matchy-matchy.

It served as an icebreaker for you and William; you simply looked him up and down and commented, rather dryly, saying “well, I ain’t changing…I was here first” followed by a cheeky grin.  William approached you and extended his arms for a hug.  All the hurt from the past temporarily washed away in that moment, and you both felt genuinely happy to see each other.  

The small talk flowed easily and you both quickly fell back into light and vivacious exchanges. William began to wonder if he might be able to steal you away before the end of the night.  After all, being among the very few bachelors in attendance, it would be a fantasy-come-to-reality scenario to spend the night with you.  When William finally managed to ask what your plans after the reception were, he was crushed to find out you would be leaving early, right after your last performance at the reception (oftentimes at weddings, you were not only a guest but were part of the entertainment as well).  

Things never change, William thought.  It was this main reason why he ended your affair so many years ago.  

 William couldn’t hide his disappointment.  “Still not in one place for very long, eh?”

You were quick to react to his comment inside your head; a feeling somewhere between annoyance and hurt. You felt the sting of one of his last spoken sentiments to you all those years ago about always needing to leave where he was, yet again, for something else.

Quietly you respond.  “Well…unfortunately it’s a rehearsal for a musical tribute in Ireland for a dear friend and a mentor of mine who recently passed, rather unexpectedly.”  An intense urge to cry hit you without warning, and it took all your might, along with a hard swallow, to keep the tears from appearing.  

What you really wanted, and you were thoroughly ashamed to admit this to yourself, was to go to William and lose yourself completely in his arms.  After all these years, he still had an effect on you like no one you had ever known.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole”, William said quietly after seeing you struggle to hide the sorrow on your face.     

“William, no, I get it - it’s ok.  Honestly though, if I had it my way, she’d still be alive and I’d be having more fun tonight as opposed to belting out a few songs, nursing my Pink Whitney, and then having to catch a flight.”  

William pulled you in for a side hug and kept his arm draped around your shoulder as you walked together to rejoin Rasmus Sandin and his girlfriend Lisa.

As you enjoyed the lively banter between the Swedes in attendance, mixed with Jumbo Joe Thornton’s boisterous brand of humour, you were summoned away from William’s side.  You excused yourself from the group and as you walked away, you glanced at William’s face and smiled warmly.  He leaned in towards you and gently placed his hand on the exposed skin on your lower back.  With his voice lowered, just above a whisper, he said “Good luck up there.  Come find me after.”

But as fate, or rather too many prolonged drunken speeches and several other delays, once you had finished performing (at Stephanie’s request) Taylor Swift’s “22”, you were whisked away, with no opportunity for goodbyes, into the awaiting car in order to catch your flight to Dublin.

As the car speeds along the Queen Elizabeth Way towards Pearson Airport, you busy yourself with sending a series of texts, starting with Mitch and Stephanie, thanking them and wishing them well for their honeymoon.  A flurry of messages are exchanged between you and the other wedding go-ers until finally, you reach William’s contact information.  

Feelings had rapidly thawed between you and William but there still was a palpable distance, a recognizable gap in which that great span of time apart, with no communication, had created.  You wistfully type:

it was really great to see you…hope you’re having a blast.

Not long after you pressed send, your phone shows an image being received. After a few more seconds, a selfie appeared of Rasmus and William in sleeveless t-shirts with Zeus portrayed on the front.

You can’t help but laugh out loud. 

You two…fucking adorable 😄

A lone heart acknowledges your message.

Back at the wedding, William stares at the screen of his phone.  

Rasmus can clearly see his friend’s disappointment; he knew William well, and he was aware of the torch he had always carried for you.  Rasmus could also see the sadness in your eyes whenever you looked at William.  Rasmus knew how fortunate he was to have found his love in Lisa, and he felt strongly it truly existed between you and William as well. If only you could get on the same fucking page at the same time.

Rasmus puts his arm around William’s shoulders.  “Sorry she left, bro.  But at least you got a chance to talk to her again”. Rasmus paused before ending with “You never know.” 

Rasmus, one of William’s closest friends and forever the optimist, smiles and motions for him to put his phone away.  “Let’s just fucking enjoy the rest of the night”.  

William stuffs his phone in his pocket and the two friends venture off toward the dancefloor where the sound of whoops and hollers co-mingle with the guests screaming out the lyrics to Rasputin by Boney M.  

William quickly distracted himself enough to diminish the thoughts that had been circling his mind about you, and concentrated on having a night with his many friends and former teammates.  

By the next day, with William’s eventual departure back to Stockholm and you deep in the throes of rehearsals in Dublin, any feeling that may have arisen during the brief encounter between you and William seemed to dissipate.  It seemed apparent, at that moment at least, too much time had passed for either of you to feel secure in contacting the other.  

William resumed his off-season activities and on the surface, his brush with you had no real impact on his current life. He saw whomever he wanted to, slept with whomever he wanted to and detached from whomever he wanted to.  Even after your name made it into the headlines across Europe and North America regaling your poignant and stunning tribute to the late, great Sinead O’Connor, William simply scrolled past the article on his phone.  It was better for him to have you remain out of sight and therefore out of mind.  

You had mixed feelings, however.  You couldn’t never quite grasp, never quite understand why William’s mere presence affected you so profoundly.  You surmised that’s what made you you, and what made your musical career so successful was the depths in which your feelings ran, and how it was converted to song.  On the other side of the coin was, once again, the realization - that slap across the face, that William did not feel the same about you.  You had allowed what transpired between you and William to completely derail you for years.  You simply hadn’t been interested in meeting anyone. Love had shown it’s occasional cruelty in the past but unrequited love was pure unmitigated torture and you enabled it enough to shut down the myriad of advances from men.  But It was enough now; you just needed to let go.

And the fog you had been in did eventually lift.  You had come to terms that you were ready to find that person; a partner to build a life and a family with.  You were approaching 31 years of age and you had deep desires for an exciting future with someone by your side.  William’s life seemed to be on a completely different trajectory than yours; his recent admissions during his stint in Stockholm during the Leafs visit had people buzzing that William might be more of a fuck-boy than they had originally thought. And all judgements aside - he’s allowed to blow off steam and decompress however he wants - that version of William that the media was salivating over now was of little interest to you. 

[back to the present moment]

William remains on his bed, continuously starting and deleting a text addressed to you.  He repeats this 5, 6, 8 times before his frustration with himself boils over. He tosses his phone away from him as if it suddenly had turned into a hot potato.

William rubs his eyes with a bit too much force, almost in an attempt to diminish the gnawing feeling he has in his stomach.   

Fuck. 

Letting out a long sigh, William turns to Pablo and Banksy who had started to play fight on the bed.  “Alright boys, let’s make this quick - it’d be my luck that girl is still hanging out somewhere around the building” William said as he picked up each dog for a quick nuzzle and then set them down on the floor to get ready.

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[dylan-duke]

OK

last night @toasttt11 and i did some brainstorming for a new Quinn AU

heres what we/i have so far:

Piper Olsen

Born in New York, New York on April 15th, 1999; when her dad, ryan, is playing for the New York Rangers

Her mother died when she was 4 of cancer

After her dad retires he begins coaching. Starting at the University of Michigan as an assistant coach in 2010, under the iconic red berenson, then is announced as the NTDP U18 head coach in 2015 for the 2015-2016 season. At the end of the 2018-2019, season he was asked to be the head coach of the Detroit Red Wings, which is where he currently stays.

She was 11 when they moved to Canton, Michigan

She is a dual athlete doing both Field Hockey and Lacrosse

She is committed to play both at OSU much to her dad, quinn and the hughes' families chagrin but that's where her mom went so she's going there too

Piper x Quinn

piper meets quinn at the USA NTDP tryout camp in the summer of 2014, which she traveled to with her dad

they don't see each other again until they end up in many classes together their junior year of high school

then quinn begins to see her everywhere at the rink at team events everywhere

so a friendship blossoms

its not until the summer when quinn travels back to toronto that they both realize that they miss each other

so after a few awkward months there senior year quinn works up the courage to ask her out

there relationship there freshman year of college is a hard adjustment, but quinn makes it to many of her games and she does the same for him

they last SO LONG because of the rough first year of long distance

the hughes family x piper and ryan olsen

Ryan is why jack and luke are so insistent on also playing in the NTDP.

Jim has worked with Ryan in the past as a coach and always admired his work when he was at umich in development (zach hyman comes to mind) and Quinn never shuts up about him

When Ellen meets Piper for the first time, she immediately understands why her son didn't shut up about her the summer before

Jim loves piper because she works so hard. he admires the kind of athlete she is

and jack and luke are obsessed with her always going to her games especially luke who is always a short drive away during her time at college

[wosowrites]

Goalkeeper (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

a/n: based off this request here

warnings: none

prompt: in which the canwnt goes to watch a hockey game in which jessie’s girlfriend is the keeper.

Growing up in London Ontario meant that you played boys hockey. And for the longest time, you played boys hockey with Jessie Fleming. But once you both turned 13, she started to feel uncomfortable playing with boys, and being in the changing room, so she quit hockey and focused on soccer. And man did it pay off. But you never stopped talking, every second you weren’t at soccer or hockey training, you were at each others houses, together at school, or running track together. It was always Jessie and y/n.

"There go Jessie and y/n"

"Jessie and y/n, breaking school records"

And eventually it became

"Jessie and y/n, repping Canada"

Jessie made her start for the CANWNT at 15 and you were in the stands cheering her on. And when you turned 16, you made your debut for the Canada Women’s Hockey Team as their keeper. You only started dating at 17, which happened to be horrid timing as she was leaving for UCLA in a year, and due to your impeccable grades and your talent in Hockey, you got accepted into Yale. The long distance broke your heart everyday, and multiple nights were spent either crying from missing her, or falling asleep on facetime with her. But it all payed off… for a bit. You still played hockey for the Canadian team and you played in the the Premier Hockey Federation for the Toronto Six. And man, that distance between London, England and Toronto was even worse. But you were older, and more mature, and your league season ended while Jessie’s was only in the middle. So the second your season ended, you packed your bags and moved to London for a couple of months, working a well paying job at a cafe and playing hockey at the local rink whenever you could. It was a strange life, and definitely not a lifestyle that would work for everyone, but you didn’t care as long as you were with Jessie.

However, the start of your season was approaching and it was time to say goodbye to the blues and hello to the reds. That being the Canadian Women’s National Soccer Team. They were all meeting up in Toronto, partly to go back to their Canadian roots, and partly to go see you play in your home opener of the season.

The night before the game, you did your day before game routine and then went to bed. Nothing beat the familiar feeling of your girlfriend by your side.

That morning, you got up at 9:00 like you did on all game days, kissed Jessie’s head and then pulled out a pre game outfit for you too wear as well as take out one of your jerseys for Jessie to wear. It was not the first time that the CANWNT came to watch you play. They tried to watch your games in person at least twice a year as they all cared about you a lot, considering you were the only person that made Jessie come out of her bubble fully. They called themselves "y/n’s army" and wore t-shirts with your face on them. You thought it was hilarious.

Jessie knew that you liked to leave for your games early and do your pre game routine all alone. So even though you only needed to be at the arena at 1:00, you left at 10:00 while Jessie took advantage of her off season to sleep.

You went to a coffee shop, walked around toronto, had lunch and then headed to the arena.

You met your teammates there, talking with them, laughing with them and answering their questions about if your "army" would be here today.

And they were, the second you hopped onto the ice in your heavy keeper equipment, you could hear their cheers and see the signs. It made you feel warm inside. You skated up to the barrier where Jessie was standing and out your glove on the glass and smiled at her. "Meet you after?" she asked you, loudly because of the music and the noise. "You bet," you answered.

"Good lucky my love," she told you, blowing you a kiss.

The game was heated, both teams wanted points from their first game right away, but you didn’t let a single goal in. It took a lot of screaming, orders and a few shoves and fights with the opposition, which Jessie hated, but you managed to get the 2-0 win.

After the game, you changed into jeans and a yellow graphic tee that was Jessie’s, as well as airforces and a black jean jacket. You lugged your equipment behind you and met Jessie outside the arena. She quickly pecked your lips, not big on the PDA but she did whisper a word of congratulations in your ear. You were quick to be bombarded by your girlfriends team though, hugs from Alyssa, Jordyn, Julia, Nichelle and Quinn, taps on the back from Sincy, Sophie and Sabrina and a loud scream from Kailen who then picked you up off the ground and swung you around in circles.

"Put her down Kailen!" Jessie squealed. You were taller than Jessie and pretty strong but Kailen was something else. "She’s fine Fleming," the keeper said, putting you down and smiling at you as you gained your bearings again. "Yeah, all good," you laughed. Kailen took your bag and walked towards your car, giving you the opportunity to swing an arm around Jessie’s shoulder as she put hers around your waist. You kissed the top of her head lovingly and told her you loved her as you walked towards the car.

Nothing felt better than being with your second family. Just being around the Canadian Women’s Soccer Team felt natural and easy.