#ryan o'reilly imagine

[spine-buster]

Lost in the Memory | Ryan O'Reilly | Volume III

gif credit @/heddy

A/N: This is just porn, basically.

“It’s gonna be good to be fuckin’ home, I can tell you that much.”

A delay at the airport meant that Ryan and the boys didn’t land in Toronto until the middle of the night.  Factoring in the drive from the airport to Summerhill, he didn’t walk through the door until almost 2:30 in the morning.  He walked in to the low hum of the TV, an old episode of Law and Order: SVU playing.  Whitney was asleep on the couch, clearly having tried to wait up for him, but failing.  She looked cozy under the blanket, and so peaceful that Ryan almost didn’t want to disturb her.

Though he had been living in the house since being traded, for what felt like the first time since he moved, he took a long look around the main floor.  It had been Whitney’s and Whitney’s alone for the past ten days.  Truthfully, it had been Whitney’s and Whitney’s alone since he bought it for her.  When he bought it, he did so because when he and Whitney saw it, she fell in love with it.  It reminded her of the house she grew up in, just that it was in a city, and Ryan wanted her to have it.  During the restoration and renovation, and over the years, she had truly put her mark on it.  Her stamp was everywhere, and that’s what he loved most about it.  It was a home for her, and it was a home for him, too, because wherever Whitney was, was home. 

Ryan bent down so he could be near eye contact with her, taking in her features.  Her beautiful long lashes she’d had since they were kids.  The littlest scar on her chin from when Owen accidentally hit her with a ministick.  Her perfectly shaped lips he loved to kiss whenever he could.  Her long, beautiful hair he loved to run his hands through.  He did just that, as softly as he could, to wake her up.  “Whitney…sweetness…” he cooed.  She didn’t wake up at first.  “Sweetness…” he was slightly louder.

Her eyes fluttered open, looking almost in disbelief that he was in front of her.  “Snook…” she mumbled.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said.

“I tried to stay up, Snook—”

“—Don’t apologize, sweetness.  It’s okay.  Let’s just go to bed.  C’mon,” he said, grabbing at her arms and wrapping them around his neck.  He proceeded to pick her up bridal style and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom.  Their bedroom.

Whitney was smart and had already changed into her pajamas.  After he laid her in bed, Ryan stripped out of his clothes quickly, leaving only his boxers on before her crawled into bed and pulled the sheets and comforter over their bodies.  “D’you want me to make you some French toast tomorrow morning?” she asked.

“Shhhhhh,” he cooed, snuggling up behind her as the big spoon.  She had work tomorrow, so he didn’t even know why she was offering.  Well, that was a lie…he did know: because she was Whitney.  And they always looked after one another.  But he wasn’t going to be that person – waking her up at 2am only to agree for her to wake up early to make him breakfast.  What was he, a chauvinist?  “Go to sleep, sweetness.  Don’t worry about tomorrow morning.”

He heard a little sigh leave her.  “I’m so happy you’re finally home, Snook.”

“Me too.  Me too.”

***

When Whitney got home from work that Monday, Ryan was making dinner.  She walked into the house smelling like homemade chicken soup, which she loved.  It reminded her of growing up.  And though she was grown up now, she was always nostalgic for her past; she thought most people were, especially if they enjoyed their childhoods.

“Welcome home,” Ryan was already looking over his shoulder at her as she made her way into the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” she smiled.  “Damn Snook, I could get used to this.”

He smiled.  “Smells good?”

“When you’re my husband I hope the house smells like this all the time.”

Whitney didn’t realize exactly which words were leaving her mouth when she opened it.  But when they finally came out, she couldn’t believe her mind strung the sentence together.  It was as if her innermost thoughts were starting to overpower her conscience.  She watched as Ryan chuckled slightly.  “I have some good news,” he immediately changed the subject.

Whitney gulped, pushing everything down.  “What’s that?”

“I get my cast off soon,” he revealed.

Whitney smiled wide.  “You can finally put that hand back to good use.”

“You mean, like, by scoring goals?”

“Obviously.  It’s not like it’s useful for much else.”

Whitney yelped as Ryan grabbed hold of her and pulled her towards his body, wrapping his arms around her midsection so she couldn’t escape.  “You take that back right now,” he grumbled playfully.  “These hands have probably done more to pleasure you than your own hands.”

“You severely underestimate how I often I masturbate to the thought of you fucking me,” she kept playing her game.

“You’re a sexual deviant.”

“You started it,” she winked.

Ryan peppered her face with kisses.  “I’m so happy to be home with you, sweetness.  How was work?”

I’d rather be taking care of our kids right now.  “It was fine.  Same old.  Can we cuddle on the couch tonight while watching episodes of SVU?”

Ryan smiled.  “I don’t want to do anything else.”

After eating their chicken soup and cleaning up the kitchen, Ryan queued up episodes of Law and Order while Whitney washed her makeup off and changed into something more comfortable.  When she emerged from the bedroom, Ryan was already on the couch and ready with a blanket.  She was wearing a pair of bike shorts and one of Ryan’s newest Leafs workout shirts.  While it was no doubt big on her, it was tight around her chest, making it very obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra and very obvious she’d appreciate the warmth of his body and the blanket.  The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed dramatically when he saw her.  Without even trying, she was so incredibly sexy to him. 

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded.  “C’mere, sweetness,” he opened up the blanket, allowing her to crawl in and snuggle up next to him, draping her legs over his.  After placing one of his hands in between her thighs, he pressed play. 

It was about halfway through the first episode they watched that Ryan’s hand began massaging between Whitney’s thighs.  She didn’t think much of it – he massaged her thighs all the time when they were cuddling like this – but then ever so slowly it began to move up.  By the time the second episode started, his hand was right near her core.  She looked over at him at one point, a small smile playing on her face.  “You can put your hand down my shorts, Snook.  It’s been ten years – you don’t have to ask for permission.”

“Yes I do,” he said quickly, moving his hand quickly so it slipped underneath the waistband of her shorts and back down to between her thighs.  He cupped her core briefly before his fingers played with her lips.  Slowly.  Painstakingly slowly.  As they watched the next episode, he teased her pussy much longer than Whitney was anticipating, though she wasn’t complaining.  Eventually, she almost couldn’t focus between her hero Olivia Benson and what Ryan was doing.  She’d close her eyes to focus on the feeling, then open them to focus on the show, rotating back and forth.

“Snook?”

“Sweetness?”

“You coming to Toronto was the best thing to ever happen,” she sighed out, her eyes closed.

He giggled at her words.  “Oh yeah?”

She let out another sign.  “Can we…” she began before trailing off.

“Tell me sweetness.  What do you want?”

“D’you remember when I came to visit you in St. Louis the first time after you won the Cup and we—we were cuddling on your couch watching TV and we—we—”

“Lie down,” he whispered, knowing exactly what she was referencing.  “Get comfortable, sweetness.”

His hand left her hot core as she lay down on the couch how she wanted.  Ryan got right behind her, his body flush against hers, mimicking every curve before he pulled his sweatpants down to free his cock.  He stroked himself quickly a few times before pulling her shorts down enough that he could slip his cock between her thighs and slowly into her core to cockwarm.  Whitney let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling, and Ryan could feel her body fully relax into his.

The sigh she let out was long and cathartic, as if all the strains and stresses of the day were released with it and she was finally at peace.  “That feels so nice,” she whispered.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” he commented, combing some of her hair back with his fingers. 

“I know.  Does it feel nice for you too?”

“Of course,” he replied.

“You’re so good to me, Snook.”

Ryan kissed her temple before draping his arm over her body, queuing the next episode of SVU to start.  They lay on the couch together in that position for at least two more episodes, making light conversation or commentary on the episode every so often.  Every time she moved slightly, Whitney was reminded of how good it felt to have Ryan inside her so intimately, even if it wasn’t sexual.  While she knew it was probably going to end with them making love eventually (at least it did last time), she truly valued just being like this with him.

While Benson and Stabler were trying to solve a case, Whitney could feel Ryan begin to slip his hand under her (his) shirt.  His hand eventually cupped one of her breasts, taking his time to knead it softly before he began to pinch her nipple.  Ryan could feel her chest rise and fall, little sighs escaping her.  Then, he began to kiss the exposed skin between her neck and shoulders, and there were more little sighs coming out of her that he could feel made his cock harden.  Eventually, neither were preoccupied with the crime Benson and Stabler were trying to solve; they were only preoccupied with each other.

“Snook?”

“Sweetness?”

“Make love to me, Snook.  Nice and slow.”

Ryan peppered her exposed skin with more kisses before he began to move his hips so he could pump his cock in and out of her in their spooning position.  He took it nice and slow, just like she wanted, because her sighs were driving him absolutely insane.  To him, they were worthy of the finest orchestras in the world.  “S’at good, baby?”

“Yeah, Ry.  It’s so good.”

“You need it like this?” he asked.  Whitney nodded her head.  “Tell me why.”

“Because I’m at work all day and all I can think about is wanting to be with you,” she said.  “And when it’s like this it’s so nice because it’s so…soft.”

Ryan couldn’t help but smile, kissing her again, making sure he didn’t get too far ahead of himself and go any faster than she wanted.  She felt incredible as always, and he was going to take advantage of being inside of her for as long as possible.  “Reminds me of the first time it happened on a couch,” Ryan whispered in her ear.  “Remember?  My parents were at a show here, Shannon was at a sleepover, and we were doing our best to watch that movie we can’t even remember.”

Whitney smiled.  “I remember.  I ended up on your lap within the first ten minutes.”

“That’s right,” Ryan chuckled.  “Couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“If my memory serves me right, I’d say it was the other way around,” Whitney said.  “You were the one unzipping my shorts.”

“Those itty bitty jean shorts you used to wear?  Can you blame me?  Your ass looked great in those.  Come to think of it, they barely covered it.”

“That was the first time I let you fuck me without a condom, too,” Whitney mentioned.  “Remember?”

He did.  They’d been having sex and Ryan was using a condom religiously, and Whitney said the only way they could have sex without one was if they both got tested for STIs.  That’s what her parents taught her if she was going to become sexually active, and she was sticking to it.  Ryan didn’t put up a fuss about it at all.  He went to his doctor, got the required test, and showed Whitney.  Whitney did the same, even though Ryan knew she was fine since she had only ever had sex with him.  “Of course,” Ryan breathed out.  “How could I forget?”

Ryan continued to move in and out of her, his hand moving down her body and to her clit where he began to rub lazy circles, causing Whitney to squirm and let out some more sighs.  Though they were taking it nice and slow, Whitney could feel her orgasm building just as slowly, her body feeling hot after so much time of being engulfed in one another’s bodies.  She put her hand over Ryan’s, still rubbing circles on her clit.  “You take care of me in every way, Snook.  I hope you know that.”

She was met by silence from Ryan.  And in that silence, her mind began to wander.  Why wasn’t he answering?  Why hadn’t he said anything in return?  All he did was continue his movements to make her feel good, which was always nice, but…why didn’t he say anything?  Does he not believe it?  “I’m close, Ry.”

“Yeah?” he finally responded.

“Yeah.  I can’t wait to feel you come inside me.”

Eventually, when Ryan felt her entire body shiver, he knew her orgasm was running through her.  Only then did he allow himself to come too, letting all his pent-up energy release inside of her.  He made sure to continue rubbing her clit to make her orgasm last longer, until he felt her hand that was over his squeeze it to get him to stop.  “Goooddd, Snook,” she sighed out.  “That was so good.  So nice.”

“I know,” he nodded.  His cock slipped out of her but was immediately replaced with his hand, feeling her wetness on his fingers before Whitney switched positions so she was facing him instead of having her back towards him.  He brought his hand up and sucked on his fingers, tasting her like he wanted.  She kissed him immediately after.  “You’re so sweet,” his voice was barely above a whisper, considering they were so close physically.

“Will you kiss me, Snook?”

Their lips met and they continued kissing for so, so long, completely lost in each other as the hum of the TV played in the background, Benson and Stabler starting to solve yet another case.

***

Whitney looked at herself in the mirror of her ensuite bathroom, wearing another one of Ryan’s Leafs shirts – this time in white – her jersey with his name on it draped over the door.  She was wearing a pair of black lace underwear that made her ass look extra cheeky.  Her nipples were already poking through the material of the shirt, but she knew she could do better.  She looked towards the shower and thought, well, that’ll be pretty hot.  She wet the t-shirt with the shower head, so much that it clung to her body, showing every curve.  She went back in front of the mirror and began to pose, taking pictures of herself for Ryan.

She was going to tease him within an inch of his life.  Why?  Because she wanted to.  Because she was still thinking about how he didn’t respond to her when they were having sex on the couch and she said, “You take care of me in every way, Snook.  I hope you know that.”  All she could think about for the past few days was how he didn’t respond.  Did he not think that he took care of her?  Did he not want to?  Did he not want to anymore?  When Ryan said he’d always take care of her, did that mean marriage?  Did that mean children?  Did that mean a life together?  He didn’t answer, so maybe it didn’t.  Maybe it did.  She didn’t know anymore.  It was all so confusing.  What she did know was this: she was going to take care of him and his ego tonight, that was for sure.  Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, and maybe she should approach it in a different way; maybe it wasn’t mature and maybe it wouldn’t do anything in the grand scheme of things, but God damn it, this was how she was going to do it. 

Ryan had already left for the arena for the game against the Panthers, and she would be making her way down in about an hour.  She would be meeting Bee and Aryne before the game for some dinner and was mostly ready, except for the fact that she was taking pictures of herself as if she were competing in a wet t-shirt contest.  When she was done with the wet t-shirt contest, she tossed it in the shower and put on his jersey instead.  It was oversized, but she still knew she could make it look sexy.  She made sure her underwear was visible as she made her ass was front and centre since not much else could be seen.

When Whitney was actually ready – in her clothes she had planned to wear to the game, and not the clothes she had planned to tease Ryan in – she texted Bee that she was leaving her place and on her way to Chotto Matte, the Japanese-Peruvian restaurant that the boys had apparently been frequenting as of late.  When Bee realized that Whitney’s office was only a few blocks away from hers, she resolved that they get together more often, starting with dinner before the game with Aryne and Aberdeen.  Whitney and Bee were the same age, only three days apart – Whitney born August 28th and Bee born on August 31st – and so Bee made a conscious effort to be friends with her, and Whitney appreciated the effort because she liked Bee (and all the other women) since the day she met them.

Before she lost the WiFi service at the station, Whitney took out her phone from her purse and opened the conversation she was keeping with Ryan.

Just on my way to dinner with Bee, Aryne, and Aberdeen.  Can I show you my outfit?  I don’t know if it’s too fancy.  Have you been to Chotto Matte before?

He responded right away, letting her know that he wasn’t doing anything important.  At least not yet. 

Of course.  And no, I haven’t been.

The subway rolled into the station.  Whitney chose the first of the photos she favourited from the array she took, the least risqué of the night.  A photo of her just posing in his t-shirt, her nipples poking through the fabric, a hint of the black lace of her panties showing.  She got on the subway and took a seat, and as the subway began moving towards Rosedale station, her phone buzzed. 

Looks like you’ll be cold.  I think it needs a jacket.

She chuckled.  So he was going to be a cheeky bastard.  Fine.

By the time she made her way to Bay and Front Street, Bee and Aryne were waiting in the vestibule of the restaurant.  Within five minutes Aberdeen arrived and they were seated at their table, ordering drinks and food – Whitney ordered the black cod aji miso on the behest of Aryne.  The girls chatted up Whitney like they were old friends, and not like they’d just met merely a month ago.  Whitney ignored the incoming texts from Ryan throughout dinner and had fun with her newfound friends.

Let me see your real outfit

What are you wearing?

Are you at the restaurant already?  Are the girls there?

Go to the bathroom and show me how sexy you look in your outfit

Whit come on

I’m desperate here

You can’t just send a pic like that and then go silent

He was right.  It was so incredibly rude of her to go silent after she sent him such a picture.  So, as the waiter took their dinner plates away, she quickly got on her phone and sent him a second picture.  It was a picture of her in the same outfit except this time, she had her hand down the front of the black lace panties.  She locked her screen quickly, not giving it a second thought.  Within seconds, a reply flashed on her screen.

What the fuck, sweetness

The girls paid the bill and made their way to the arena on foot, taking the elevator to the family lounge where a few of the other girls were already hanging out.  When she had a moment to herself, she took out her phone and sent another picture, unsolicited: one where she was looking over her shoulder, pulling the t-shirt forward so her ass was in full view of the mirror.

Whitney

After some small talk with a few of the other women present, another: one where her t-shirt was wet and clung to her body, especially her breasts.

WHITNEY

After the Canadian and American national anthems were played, another one: a close up of her biting her lip, her nipples poking through the wet fabric of the shirt.

There’s a lot of guys in here with me

You gotta stop

As the first period went on, another: the wet t-shirt with her hand down her panties again.

Whit I mean it

Right after the buzzer at the end of the period, another: one of her in his jersey, ass in full view.

Holy fuck

She giggled slightly.  At the end of intermission, when she knew all the men he was with would be back, another: her seated on the floor, her legs spread wide, his jersey barely covering up the visual. 

I should come down to the family lounge and fuck you senseless in the bathroom.

Patience is a virtue, Snook

Stop teasing sweetness

That’s going to get you in trouble

If I’m trouble, then maybe you should roll up your sleeves, bend me over you knee, and spank me

Ryan never responded.  Whitney didn’t push it.  She knew she had him exactly where she wanted him and left it at that.  She enjoyed the rest of the game, the rest of the banter and conversation with the girls.  She finished her glass of wine and cheered on during overtime, though the Leafs lost.

When Ryan emerged from the locker room, he barely made eye contact with Whitney.  He greeted all the other women very politely and made conversation with them as they asked him about his finger and what life was like in the press box.  He milked the conversations for as long as he could, until a couple more of the guys emerged, until he finally looked at Whitney.  “D’you want a ride home?”

“That’d be nice.  Thanks,” she smiled.

She and Ryan got into the elevator to take them down to the parking garage.  He hadn’t said a word to her.  She couldn’t help the smile that was making its way onto her face after each passing silent moment.  “How’d you like the game?” she asked.  Silence.  She bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing.  Ryan didn’t even look at her.  “You look great in that suit, by the way.  Very sexy,” she offered.

Only then did Ryan give her a look, and even then – the look sent a shiver down her spine.  She was wholly unprepared for it, and after the shiver came the heat.  She knew she was in for it.  She was anxious and excited all at once.  When they walked off the elevator and started towards his Range Rover, his strides were so long and determined that Whitney almost felt like skipping to stay on pace with him.

Once they got to his car, Whitney decided to strike again.  “Are you mad at me or something?”

They were lucky a lot of cars were parked, because Ryan pulled her in between them and pushed her up against his, pinning her between the car and his body.  “You think you can just send me pictures like that and not have me go crazy?” he muttered, his lips so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin.

“No, I knew exactly what I was doing,” she said in a hushed tone. 

“You’re a little tease, sweetness.”

“Did you have to go beat one off in the bathroom because you got a little too excited?”

“Oh no no nooo,” he cooed before giving her a hard kiss that took her breath away.  “I’m saving everything for when we get home.”

Whitney smiled from ear to ear.  “Then what are we waiting for?”

“Oh good, their car is still here!” they both her Morgan’s voice yell through the parking garage.  Ryan and Whitney separated at lightning speed.  “You just couldn’t see them because you’re short, bumblebee.”

Whitney and Ryan both emerged from in between the cars casually.  Bee was still a bit far from them, but close enough to not have to yell.  “I just wanted to remind you to text me for dates next week when you’re available for lunch,” she said.

“Of course!” Whitney was chipper.  “I’ll look at my schedule tomorrow at work.” 

Bee nodded as she watched Ryan open the passenger side door for Whitney.  “Drive safe,” she waved.

“You too!” Whitney said before getting in.  Ryan waved to Bee and Morgan before walking around the car and getting into the driver’s seat.

***

“I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to see that,” Bee repeated to herself over and over as she sat in the passenger seat, eyes wide but staring at nothing, waiting for Morgan to get into the car.  “I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to—”

“What weren’t you supposed to see?” Morgan’s voice suddenly interrupted her.

It was as if he had just magically appeared in the driver’s seat.  Bee didn’t even hear him get in.  She was too preoccupied with the scene replaying over and over in her mind: seeing Ryan and Whitney kissing in between cars when they thought no-one was watching.  And it wasn’t just some innocent kiss, either.  There was meaning behind it.  History behind it.

“Nothing,” Bee shook her head.  “Drop it.”

“Bumblebee—”

“Nothing.”

***

Ryan and Whitney rushed inside, their bodies ready to go before they even touched either other.  Ryan pinned her against the wall and kissed her forcefully, greedily, because she let him and because he could and because he’d been waiting hours to show her what he really thought of those pictures.  His knee was between her legs.  “Y’looked so fuckin’ hot in those pictures, sweetness,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Which ones were your favourites?  Wet t-shirt or jersey?”

He huffed.  “How could I choose?” he asked, and he meant it.  He picked her up in one swift movement and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, setting her back down on her feet.  He grabbed handfuls of her ass with his hands, causing her to make a little noise at how his fingers dug into her skin.

“You wanted to fuck me so bad after seeing them, didn’t you?” she asked.

Ryan didn’t answer.  Instead, he pinned her up against the wall again, except this time, he wasn’t kissing her.  He was looking directly into her eyes as his chest rose and fell with the intensity of his breaths.  “Don’t think I forgot about your teasing that easily,” he warned, his voice low.  He could see the fire in Whitney’s eyes at her tone.  He stopped pinning her against the wall, but she didn’t move.  “You’re in a lot of fucking trouble, sweetness.”

Whitney watched as Ryan backed up further, until he was sitting in his dress shirt and suit pants on the edge of the bed, legs spread so she could see his growing bulge.  “D’you want me to s—”

“You do what I tell you to do,” his said sternly as he unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt.  “Understood?”

Whitney nodded excitedly, biting her bottom lip.  “Yes.”

“Are you wearing the panties in the pictures?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a moment, licking his lips.  “Show me.  Nice and slow.”

Whitney knew what that meant.  She giggled slightly before she began to untuck the rest of her shirt – whatever Ryan didn’t get to downstairs – from the jeans she was wearing.  She watched as Ryan began to cuff the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, and she swore she could have come right then and there.  She took off her top to reveal a lacy black bra, one that pushed her boobs up perfectly.  “You like what you see, Snook?”

“Take off your pants, sweetness.”

She unbuttoned them slowly, swaying her hips, before unzipping them.  Before she pulled them down, she took the few steps over to Ryan, just as he was finishing cuffing his other sleeve.  She turned around so her ass was facing him and arched her back so it was in his face, pulling down her jeans slowly to reveal the lacy underwear that drove him crazy.  She kicked her jeans off to the side and before she knew it, Ryan had pulled her on to his lap, wrapping a strong arm around her body so she couldn’t move.  “You think you’re cute sending me those pictures even after I told you there were other people around, huh,” he whispered into her ear, his free hand snaking down to her panties.

“I had a lot of favourites,” she couldn’t help but smile as she felt his hand cup her pussy.

“You’re so fucking bad, sweetness.”

She felt his hand push her panties aside, two fingers teasing her pussy already.  She writhed in his lap, closing her eyes.  “I meant what I said in the text, Snook,” she said.

Ryan paused, as did his fingers.  Using the name Snook said it all.  “Are you sure, Whit?”

She nodded her head.  “Yes.  Please.”

He kissed her shoulder tenderly.  Then he asked a question.  “Do bad girls get what they want?  Or are they going to have to beg?”

It was practically automatic, the way Whitney’s body heat up at what Ryan said.  She closed her eyes again.  “Please Ry, bend me over your knee.”

His arm’s grip on her loosened and he helped move her into the position she wanted to be in, over his lap with her ass exposed and ready.  His fingers went right back to her pussy, teasing her lips only momentarily before he shoved them in.  She let out a gasp at the intrusion, her body tensing in his lap.  “Ry—”

“You’re so fucking needy and desperate sweetness.”

“I am.”

“For what?  Tell me.”

She could feel his fingers curl inside of her, hitting a place that he didn’t normally hit and giving her a feeling she’d never felt before.  For a moment, she almost forgot what all this was for.  “I—I—”

“For what?”

“For you to spank me,” she finally let out.  “For you to make me feel good.”

“What about my fingers, huh?” he asked, curling them in her again, causing her to squirm in his lap and moan loudly.  “They aren’t good enough for you?”

“I want—I want more.”

“More what?”

Whitney was getting more turned on by the second.  She loved putting her pleasure completely in Ryan’s hands, because he was the only one who knew exactly what to do to her, who knew exactly what to say to get her riled up.  Besides, he put his pleasure completely in her hands, too.  “I want more—more—”

“More?  You think you’ve been a good girl who can get what she wants?”

“No,” she shook her head.  “I’ve been bad and I need to be spanked.”

Ryan looked at her ass in full view for him, his fingers leaving her pussy.  He hesitated for a moment, because he wanted to give her what she wanted, but he also didn’t want to hurt her.  They hadn’t done this before, in all the times they’d been together.  Toronto must have really been something special if this is what they were getting up to now that they lived together in the same city.  He brought the fingers that were in her pussy up to his mouth to taste her before he resolved to go for it.  He took one last glance at the excited anticipation on her face before bringing his hand up, then down.  Smack!

Whitney let out a yelp, writhing in his lap.  “Oh fuck,” she breathed out.

“Did that hurt?”

“No no no, it felt so good,” she assured him.  “Do it again, baby.  Please.”

Smack!

Another yelp, her knees coming together as she crossed her ankles.  He wasn’t spanking her particularly hard, but they’d never done this before.  “Fuck!” she screamed out in pleasure. 

“Feels good?”

“Feels so fucking good Ry, oh my God,” she couldn’t believe it.  “Keep going.”

Smack!

Ryan caught sight of her pussy again, wet and slick from before and from what he was doing.  He spanked her again and could practically see it throb in pleasure.  He brought his hand back to her pussy, sticking his fingers in with ease since she was so wet, and she cried out at the sensation.  This time, though, he quickened his pace and curled his fingers more often.  Whitney had stopped being quiet a long time ago, but as he did so, she really wasn’t quiet.  It was only after he’d had his fingers back in her for a while that he even realized she was trying to say something.

“B…b…”

“What is it, sweetness?  You need a break?”

“Both.”

He was confused for only a second before understanding what she meant.  “Look at me,” he grabbed her jaw with his free hand, which wouldn’t be so free after this if she meant what he thought she meant.  He forced her to look at him.  Her cheeks were so flushed red.  “You want both?” he asked.

She nodded.  “I want both, Ry.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he released her jaw.  “You gotta tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“It won’t be.  I want it so bad Ry.  I’m gonna come so hard.  I want—I want it so bad.”

Ryan could never say no to her.  The only mode he knew was to indulge Whitney, and that was exactly what he was going to do.  He took a lick of his fingers before sticking them back in her pussy, using his other hand to give her another smack that made her cry out in pleasure.  Her body couldn’t help the movements it was making from the pleasure he was giving her, and Whitney couldn’t control them, either.  Every spank and every curl of his fingers brought her closer to a place where she and Ryan had never been before – an entirely new plane of pleasure they were capable of giving only each other.  “Mmmmm, ohmygod, Ry,” Whitney breathed out before cursing for the umpteenth time.  A new curl of his fingers hit the same spot from earlier, and she was desperate to feel it again.  “Right there, Ry.  Just like that.”

Another curl right on the spot.  Another cry.  Another smack.  Another curl.  Whitney felt like she was losing her breath, repeating his name over and over with every curl and ever smack.  She gripped the comforter for dear life, right before Ryan smacked her and curled his fingers at the same time, sending her entire body through an earth-shattering orgasm.  She’d never felt anything like it before, and she was as loud as can be.  She heard Ryan swear before the rhythm of his fingers changed slightly, slowing down before adopting a new rhythm.  The orgasm lasted longer than so many others, and when most of it finally passed, her hips lowered back down to his lap.

“Sweetness—”

It felt weird.  She couldn’t make it out at first – it was supposed to be Ryan’s dress pants, of course – but they felt different.  Had she really sweat that much?  Had he?  The feeling was different than what she was used to.  “Ry—”

“Holy fucking shit, Whit,” Ryan breathed out.

“Your pants—why do they feel wet?”

“Whit, I think you squirted.”

Whitney’s jaw dropped as she screamed in shock.  Ryan began to giggle, almost nervously and definitely uncontrollably, not believing what had just happened.  He could see Whitney’s eyes, nervous and uncontrollably delirious as his, smiling on their own above her hands that had cupped her dropped jaw and mouth.  “Are you serious Ry?”

He giggled some more.  “Oh my God-d-d-d,” he shook his head.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Whitney shook her head.  She wiggled off his lap and onto the bed as they continued giggling in disbelief.  She looked onto his lap to see the stain on his pants.  “Oh my God.  I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“I wasn’t expec—that was so fucking hot, sweetness.”

Whitney lay down on her side on the bed, shaking her head and covering her face with her hands.  “I’m so embarrassed.”

“What?!  Why?” Ryan demanded, moving so he could hover over her.  He tried to get her hands out of her face, but she kept shaking her head.  “Whit, there’s no way you should be embarrassed.  That was so fucking hot.  Are you kidding me?  I’m gonna be fucking dreaming of that for the rest of my damn life.”

Her chest was still heaving up and down as Ryan finally got her hands out of her face.   “You see what you do to me?” she asked.  “Only you can do that to my body, Ry.  Nobody else.  And you know what’s even better?”

So she wasn’t done.  Ryan bit his bottom lip.  “What’s that?”

“Only you get to do that to my body,” she said.  “You know why?”

“Because you’re all mine,” he huffed, his voice possessive as he stood up at the foot of the bed, facing Whitney as she lay there.  The visual of him towering over her, still with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up and suit pants on almost made Whitney come again.  “All fuckin’ mine.”

“That’s riiiiight,” she cooed.

“You ready to do what I tell you?” he asked, playing with his sleeves near his elbows.

“Yes Ry.”

“Spread your legs for me,” he said.  Whitney did as she was told.  Ryan licked his lips as he untucked his shirt.  “Look at that pretty pussy.  Fuck.  You’re so beautiful, sweetness.  So perfect.”

“You’re not so bad either,” she smiled.

“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered, beginning to unbutton his shirt.  Slow enough to tease her, but fast enough because he couldn’t wait, his hard cock straining his pants.

He watched as Whitney did as she was told, one hand going to her pussy while the other cupped her breast, pinching her nipple.  “I don’t want your hands anymore, Ry.  I want you inside me.  I want you to fill me with your cum.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he undid his belt.  Whitney almost mewled at the sight of him doing it topless.  “I’ll give you want you want.  What you need.”

“I need it so bad, Ry.  So so so bad.”

Ryan eventually got into bed and grabbed Whitney’s legs, pushing them straight up and grabbing her ankles to rest them on his shoulders.  “I fuckin’ love you Whit.”

“I love you too, Snook.  Ever since we were kids.”

“Ever since we were kids,” he repeated, nodding and kissing her inner ankle.  “You ready to take my cock?”

“Yes, God yes.”

Ryan used his hand to position himself and he slid into her so easily, her pussy still wet from their previous activities.  Like always, she felt like heaven, her pussy hot and completely taking his cock.  “S’at feel good?”

Whitney nodded her head.  “Fuck me, baby.  Take care of me.”

Ryan grabbed her ankles, developing a strong rhythm and thrusting deep inside her as he made her cry out in pleasure.  His own grunts fuelled Whitney too, who couldn’t help but reach out to Ryan’s body, just so she could feel it.  He squeezed her ankles, ensuring they were secure on his shoulders.  “You keep them there.  Got it?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, his body and her legs getting hooked against her body.  “Oh fuck,” Whitney breathed out.  “Oh God Ry, it’s so fucking deep like this.”

“Gimme your hands.”

Even before she could free them, he grabbed them and pinned them above her head, holding them down with pressure so she couldn’t move them.  His thrusts became even harder, his movements rough but passionate.  She wanted a good fucking and she was going to get it – Ryan always made sure of that.  Whatever her need was, he could fulfil it.  Only him.  “Jeeeeesus Ry, fu—fuck me good, baby.  I need it so bad.”

Ryan didn’t know how he managed to last as long as he did.  Between the little strip show and the fingering and the spanking and the squirting, to now as his cock was buried deep in her pussy as they looked into each other’s eyes and whispered dirty talk to each other, his body was sweaty and practically as wet as his dress pants by the time he felt his orgasm build inside of him.  Whitney hadn’t been silent since he entered her, her voice becoming strained for how long he’d been fucking her and how long she’d been moaning and mewling and crying out and telling Ryan how good he was fucking her and how much she liked it. 

“Baby—baby I’m so close,” Whitney whispered.  “I want it harder.  Go deeper.”  Ryan pushed the final bit towards her body, hooking their bodies even closer together.  She closed her eyes to enjoy the pleasure.  “That’s it, Ry, that’s it.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, and she opened her eyes on the command.  “You love it when I fuck you like this?”

Whitney nodded.  “Always.”

“Tell me how much you love me fucking you.”

“Ever since the first time,” she assured him.  “The first time you touched me, Ry – I knew nobody else could make me feel like you do.  You were made to take care of me.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” his voice was gravelly.

“Cum inside me, Ry.  Fill me up.  Fill me up,” Whitney begged.  “I know you want to.  And I want it so bad.”

“You want it bad, huh?”

“I need it, Ry.”

Within seconds, Whitney could feel his hot cum explode inside her, filling her up just how she wanted, another intense orgasm flowing through her entire body, from the hairs on her head down to her toes.  Her entire body shook and flushed red.  Ryan was moaning out loudly as he spilled every single drop he had into her, eventually stopping his movements in and out of her.  He loosened his push on her body so she could unhook her legs, and positioned her ankles back on his shoulders.  “Atta girl,” he gave a light smack to where her thighs met her ass.

Whitney couldn’t help but smirk and giggle.  Ryan let go of her ankles before collapsing on to her body and moving so they were laying on their sides, entangled with another.  Whitney was still catching her breath when Ryan slipped out of her.  “That was so good, Snook,” she whispered.

“God Whit, I love you so fucking much,” he kissed her.

“I love you too, Snook.  I always have.”

They didn’t say much else besides other sweet murmurs to each other, and as Ryan ran his hands through Whitney’s hair, she lulled into a deep sleep, thinking about how good Ryan was to her.  As Ryan drifted off to sleep, he kept thinking about how there was no place he’d rather be.

***

Hockey Night in Canada was a tradition in many households, and growing up, Whitney’s was one of them.  She remembered it being on virtually every Saturday night, Owen and Gareth glued to the TV to watch the Leafs and whoever they were facing.  Oftentimes the O’Reillys and Napiers would get together at each other’s houses on Saturday night, order some pizza, and make some popcorn for all the kids while they watched.  Whitney remembers always sitting in between Ryan and Gareth, and eventually Shannon, with the O’Reilly foster kids all around them starting Go Leafs Go chants.

Tonight, she was in attendance for a Hockey Night in Canada for Ryan, who was playing on the Toronto Maple Leafs.  She couldn’t believe it.

Whitney wore Ryan’s jersey and stood beside Bee, who held Axton up against the glass beside Jace, being held by Aryne on her hip.  John came around to fist bump, the biggest smile on his face as he saw his boys.  Jake McCabe came around too, waving at his kids who were excited to see their dad on the ice.  Jeska Schenn even got a picture of her boys posing with Luke, who gave them a puck from the ice.  Whitney could only hope that this would be her someday soon, bringing hers and Ryan’s children down to the glass to see their dad.

As this was the Leafs’ last home game, there was extra energy in the building.  When the women got back to their section and settled into their seats, they could feel it.  Mitch opened the scoring, and John scored about five minutes later, with a secondary assist from Ryan.  Aryne and Whitney hugged, jumping in unison.  In the second period, when William Nylander scored with another assist from Ryan, Whitney screamed even louder, Aberdeen screaming with her as they hugged too.  In the third period, on John’s second goal, Ryan got his third assist, and Whitney was elated.  The boys played so well, earning a 7-1 win against the Montreal Canadiens in their last home game of the season.  With the team saluting the raucous crowd, the girls clapped and cheered.

“Come to SoHo House with us,” Aberdeen whispered to Whitney as the girls began filing out of the family lounge.

“SoHo House?  Isn’t that members only?”

“Between myself and Bee, we can all get in as guests,” Aberdeen winked.  “And we need to celebrate, don’t we?”

Whitney smiled.  “Of course we do.”

Before Whitney, Aberdeen, and the rest of the girls were able to travel towards the locker room, they were stopped by a familiar voice – at least to Whitney.  “Whitney?  Is that you?”

Whitney turned her head to see a familiar face – Rachael, the girlfriend of Joel Edmundson, who played with Ryan on the Blues when they won the Stanley Cup.  She and Rachael weren’t exactly friends, but they tried to be friendly, though Rachael always had an iciness to her that Whitney couldn’t crack.  She didn’t know if it was just her personality or if Rachael didn’t like her.  In any case, Whitney completely forgot Joel was on the Montreal Canadiens, so it was very unexpected to see her at Scotiabank Arena.  Considering her personality, Whitney was slightly shocked Rachael was even getting her attention to say hi.  “Oh, Rachael!  Hey!” she greeted, smiling.  “You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” she said quickly to Aberdeen before re-routing herself towards Rachael.  “It’s nice to see you, Rachael.”

“Nice to see you too,” she said, though she didn’t outstretch her arms for a hug.

“It’s good that you were able to make the game here.  Your sister is studying here, right?” Whitney asked.

“Can’t believe you remember that,” Rachael commented.  “But yeah.  A couple of the girls and I came for the game, but I’m staying to spend some time with my sister.  What are you doing here?”

Whitney thought it was obvious.  She was wearing Ryan’s jersey, after all, which gave it away.  She pointed to the ‘90’ patch on her arm, giggling slightly.  “Ryan got traded here at the trade deadline, and I’m here, you know, supporting him.”

“No, Whitney…I mean, what are you doing here?” Rachael asked again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t believe you’re still waiting around for him,” Rachael said.

Whitney froze slightly, her eyebrows furrowing at the comment.  “What?”

Rachael rolled her eyes playfully.  “Listen, all I’m saying is…you’re hot, Whitney.  And if it were you, I’d be flirting with Auston Matthews or something, not waiting for Ryan like you always have been.”

“I’ve never been waiting for Ryan—”

“—Yes you have.  We’ve all seen it.  Every time you came to visit St. Louis, Joel and I would always see it, always talk about it.  And I just can’t believe it’s still going on,” Rachael lamented, not bothering to cover the contemptuous pity in her voice.  “I feel bad for you.  If I was waiting this long, I’d want someone to tell me how desperate I looked.  You should have taken that opportunity with Binner when you had the chance.”

Whitney could feel her cheeks flush red.  “How could you even say that?  Binner was so inappropriate with me.  There’s no way I would have even considered it – then or now.”

Rachael wasn’t letting up.  Clearly, she started this conversation with a purpose.  Were these things she wanted to tell Whitney back then and only had the opportunity to do so now, when they were alone, because Whitney trusted this conversation to be a fucking normal one?  “You have to move on and accept the fact that Ryan isn’t going to want you,” she said, her words as cold as ice.  “Move on, Whit.  He’s never going to be with you.”

Whitney narrowed her eyes at Rachael.  It took everything within her not to cry or scream in her face.  Whitney knew there were some…well, characters among the partners of NHL players, but Rachael was playing a dirty game that Whitney didn’t like, that Whitney never considered playing herself.  “Is this why you got my attention?  To tell me how desperate I am?  To make me feel awful?”

“I’m trying to save you a lot of heartache.  Trust me,” she said.  “Auston Matthews is right there.”

Whitney looked directly into her eyes.  “Go fuck yourself, Rachael.”

Whitney turned on the balls of her heels and walked away, disappearing quickly behind a door Rachael wasn’t allowed access through.  Instead of going directly to where Aberdeen and the rest of the women were, she escaped into the washroom, if only to make sure that the tears welling in her eyes and the redness in her cheeks wouldn’t be visible when she saw them all again.

Rachael’s words ruminated in Whitney’s mind and made her stomach bubble as looked at herself in the mirror.  “Stop waiting for Ryan.  I feel bad for you.  Move on.  He’s never going to be with you.”  She wasn’t right.  Whitney knew Ryan loved her, yet for some reason, he didn’t want to be with her.  Ryan adored her, but couldn’t be with her.  Ryan was her forever, and she was Ryan’s forever, but something was stopping him from putting a label on that forever.  She’d cheated on her boyfriends with him.  She broke guys’ hearts because of him, so desperate to be with her that they would have walked barefoot on lava.  But Ryan was her beginning, end, and everything in between, and she wasn’t interested in men willing to walk on lava when she had Ryan willing to do anything for her.

Except be with her.

Except call her his girlfriend.

Except make her his wife.

She burst out of the washroom, walking down the flight of stairs to see Aberdeen and an array of the other girls waiting for the boys.  “All good?” Aberdeen asked.

“Mhm,” she nodded quickly, burying her feelings within her.  “I’m ready to drink.”

***

Ryan noticed something off about Whitney the moment they got into the car.  Something was off.  She assured him that everything was fine, that she’d just heard a fan say something stupid about him in the stands and it had made her angry, but he knew she was lying.  Stuff like that never bothered Whitney before, so why was it bothering her now?  The drive to SoHo House wasn’t long, but he tried to get the truth out of her with no success.  He resolved to get to the bottom of it by the end of the night, even if he had to pry it out of her.

Whitney immediately approached the bar, ordering a margarita and finishing it within the first ten minutes.  SoHo House wasn’t that kind of scene, of course, but Whitney didn’t care – if she was going to have to drink her feelings away, she would.  Upon ordering her second, she felt Ryan behind her.  “Will you tell me what happened, please?”

“I said it’s nothing,” she said. 

“Then slow down,” he said, watching as the bartender handed her the second margarita.  “I wish you would just be honest with me.”

He’s never going to be with you.  “I am being honest,” she said.  “Please, Snook.  I just want to have a fun night out with the girls.  You’re gone all next week and I’m going to miss you.  I don’t want to start thinking about it now.”

Ryan digressed, because he always did.  He knew how much Whitney missed him when he was gone – he got to see it now when he came home to her.  When they were separated for months, it was even worse.  So he let her be with the girls and he hung out with the guys, and he noticed her get a third margarita, except this time it was after a while and a few glasses of water.  He kept his eye on her, her animated face lighting up at the stories she’d tell or listen to, her laugh loud and rambunctious.

“There’s nothing going on between you two, right?” William Nylander asked as he watched Aberdeen interact with Whitney. 

“Nah.  Why?”

William knew Ryan was lying.  William knew Ryan was lying because William had something to hide once too, and Ryan wasn’t nearly as good or meticulous as he was in hiding it.  Besides, Aberdeen had said she didn’t think Ryan and Whitney were just friends, and William trusted her judgement.  “You’ve been eyeing her all night.  Just want to make sure you look around the room a bit.”

Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I’m good, Will.  Seems like she and Aberdeen get along great though.”

“Aberdeen loves her.  She’s wondering why it’s taking you so long to make Whitney your girlfriend.”

***

It was about 1:30 in the morning when everybody decided to leave.  Ryan only had one drink at the beginning of the night and water the rest of the time through, so he was good to drive.  When they arrived home, they walked in without a word to each other.  Both ended up in the kitchen, with Whitney getting glasses and pouring them some ice-cold water to have. 

“I wish you would be honest with me about what was bothering you tonight,” he said, still wanting to address the situation.  He knew it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but he needed the truth from Whitney.

He doesn’t want you.  I feel bad for you.  “I could say the same,” she whispered before taking another sip of water.

It may have been a whisper, but Ryan definitely heard.  “When have I not been honest with you?”

Move on, Whitney.  “You tell me.”

“Whitney,” his voice was serious.  “What the hell are you talking about?  I’ve always been honest with you.  Now will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

Whitney finished her glass of water, wishing it was some sort of hard liquor that would give her liquid confidence.  “Rachael was at the game tonight.”

“Who’s Rachael?”

“You remember Joel’s girlfriend?”

“…Okay,” Ryan said.  “Did you guys see each other?  Did she say something?”

Whitney paused.  It was now or never.  She knew that every thought she ever had about this would come rushing out of her after she started talking, so she tried to compose herself ahead of time.  She didn’t want things to get messy.  “She said she couldn’t believe I was still waiting for you like I’ve always been,” she began.  “She said she felt bad for me, that I should have taken the opportunity to be with Binner when I had the chance.  She told me to move on because you’re never going to be with me.”

Ryan was silent.  The words hung between them as silence filled the air.  ‘”So do you?” Whitney asked out of the blue.  “Do you want to be with me?”

“You—you don’t want to be with me, Whit.”

Whitney couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  “Excuse me?  I cheated on my boyfriends with you, Snook.  And you think that?  You actually say that out loud?”

“Listen, Whit— I’d do anything for you.  You know that.”

“No you wouldn’t.  Stop lying to me,” her voice was getting angrier each passing second.  This was the moment.  This was it. 

“I’m not lying to you—”

“You won’t marry me.  You won’t even call me your girlfriend.  We’ve been doing this song and dance for ten years and you still won’t even call me your girlfriend.”

The words hung in the air again.  Ryan’s heart was almost beating out of his chest.  “You’re right, Whit.  I won’t marry you.”

Whitney could feel her cheeks flushing red.  She’d been rejected plenty of times before – but not by Ryan.  And, of course, never for something so big.  The way he said it made it sound so definitive.  “Why won’t you be with me, Snook?” her voice quivered.

“Sweetness…”

“What is it?  What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing!  Whit—Whit—my god—” Ryan’s voice was frantic.  “Why would you think you did anything wrong?”

“How could I not?” she demanded back.  “Is it because you don’t love me?”

“No!  I love you more than anyone else.  I’ve always loved you Whit.  You know that.  How—how could you say that?”

Whitney began shaking her head.  She didn’t understand why he was saying such things to her.  He wasn’t making any sense.  He loved her, but he couldn’t be with her.  She didn’t do anything wrong, but he didn’t want to be with her.  It was cutting deep; every word that came out of his mouth carving deeper and deeper into her.  She bolted from the kitchen and ran upstairs, Ryan following behind her calling her name.  “What’s wrong with me?  What’s wrong with me that you won’t be with me?” she demanded of him once they were in their bedroom.

“Nothing is wrong with you.  Not a thing.  You’re perfect.”

“Then why!!!” she began to cry.  “Then why, Snook?  We tell each other all the time how much we love each other.  We tell each other all the time that we’re the only ones for each other.  I mean it when I say it, Snook.  Do you?  I want to marry you.  I want to be your wife.  I want to have a family with you, Ry – only you.  I’m not having a family if it’s not with you.  Don’t you want that too?  With me?  Why don’t—why don’t you want that too?”

“I do.”

“You’re not making any sense!” she yelled, trying to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand.  “Why don’t you love me?”

“I love you more than anybody else Whit.  That’s—that’s why I can’t.”

“Why don’t you love me?” she asked again.  She wanted an honest answer out of him.

Ryan’s face was flushed now, too.  “I can’t marry you because of me, sweetness.  It has nothing to with you.  It never has and it never will.”

Whitney paused.  Was he seriously giving her the “it’s not you; it’s me” excuse during the most significant and momentous argument they’d ever had?  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d ruin your life, Whit.”

Okay, now he truly wasn’t making any sense.  Nothing coming out of his mouth made sense.  “How could you possibly ruin my life when you are my life?” she asked.

Those words hit Ryan hard.  Hard.  Because he knew how true they were.  And for as long as their lives have been intertwined, she had been his life too.  “Whit…” his voice began trembling too now.  “Whit, you don’t understand.  I can’t—I can’t—”

“Ryan, you’re being—”

“—No, Whit, let me—”

“—You’re being irrational—”

“—No I’m not.  It’s not—I’ve thought about this.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Yes I have.  I can’t be with you.  I can’t marry you.”

“Yes you can.”

“No I can’t.  I—I—” he stuttered, not even bring able to bring himself to say the words out loud.  “I’ll hurt you.  Like I did before.”

There was silence between the two as the words hung in the air.  “What?” Whitney’s voice was much calmer than before.  “When did you ever hurt me?”

Ryan looked away.  He bit his lip, chest heaving up and down at how emotional he was getting.  He couldn’t even bear to think about it, let alone say it out loud.  The memories still paralyzed him.  They brought back so much hurt, so much pain.  “The accident, Whit,” he whispered.

“What accident?”

“Tim Horton’s.”

More silence.  The gears were trying to shift in Whitney’s mind, but they were stuck.  “You didn’t hurt me, Snook.”

Ryan finally looked at her again.  “How could you say that?  Of course I did,” he said through gritted teeth, the pain of remembering overcoming him.  “You called me that night to pick you up and I was supposed to keep you safe.  I gave you a concussion, Whitney.  I—you weren’t the same for months, and it was because of me.  I did that to you.”

Whitney began shaking her head, watching him as he sat down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.  “Snook, no—”

“I don’t know how I even live with myself after hurting you.”

“Snook, no.  Listen to me—” she got down on her knees in front of him, trying to cradle his face in her hands, but he nodded them away.  He wasn’t deserving of it.  He believed he wasn’t deserving of such affection. He wasn’t worthy. 

“And I promised him,” Ryan whispered, tears falling down his face and evident even in his voice now.  “I promised Gareth I’d take care of you.  And I didn’t.  I did that to you.  I couldn’t—I didn’t—I—”

“—Snook—”

“—He was dead in the casket, Whit, and I p—I promised him—”

“—Snook please—”

“—I didn’t keep my promise, and what if—what if I hurt you again?  What if—”

“—You won’t—”

“—I love you more than anyone, Whit.  If I hurt you?  I can’t hurt you, and if we—there’s too much risk.  Because of me and how stupid I was.  I could hurt you again and—”

“—You won’t, you won’t, you won’t,” Whitney repeated desperately, hoping it would get through to him somehow.  “Snook, that’s in the past.  It’s okay.”

Ryan shook his head.  “It’s always with me that I did that to you.”

“C’mere,” she urged, and without another word she hugged tightly, his head in the crook of her neck as he cried.  She felt his tears on her skin there as she tried to calm him down by running her fingers through his hair or rubbing his back, but there was no use.  This was something that Ryan had been carrying deep, deep within him for years now, and she had no clue.  The revelation of it being the reason keeping them apart was enlightening, painful, and heartbreaking all at once.  “Let’s pretend it never happened, Ry.”

“I’ve tried.  I can’t.  Every time I try to erase the memory, I get lost in it.  All I can picture is you passed out beside me in the truck, or you in the hospital bed crying.  I hate myself for doing that to you.  I never got over it. I hate—I hate mys—”

“Shhhhh,” she cooed.  “Snook, there’s nobody else for me out there but you.”

“I know.  And I feel the same.  But I don’t deserve you after what I did.  I can’t take care of you.”

“Yes you do,” Whitney said.  “And yes you can.  You’re the only man in this world that can take care of me.”

“No.  No.  No,” he shook his head vigorously.  “I can’t take care of you if I hurt you.”

“Yes you can Snook, please,” she urged, tearing up again.  “Don’t do this to me.  Don’t make me live a life without you.  I can’t live a life without you, Snook.” 

They cried together.  It was the only thing they could do after the catharsis, after the truth had been revealed for both of them.  Ryan pulled her up and into his lap.  Whitney could feel Ryan gripping onto her, his cries still coming.  “I don’t want to live a life without you,” Ryan mumbled, “but I don’t know how I can live a life where I can take care of you how I want to���how I’m supposed to.  Up to my standards.  I promised Gareth.  I didn’t—I didn’t live up to it early on.  What if I never can?”

“I’m telling you that you can.  I’m telling you that you’re the only one,” Whitney said.  “You bought us this house, Snook.  This house is for us, right?”

“Yes.  For you, but for us.  I know it is.”

“Think about the memories we already have here.  And think about the memories we can make here,” she whispered, finally cradling his face in her hands as she stared directly into his eyes.  “The smell of your chicken soup.  The feel of your body against mine in our bed.  Think about it, Snook.  Think about our kids sliding across these hardwood floors.  Movie nights where we’re all cuddled on the sofa together under blankets.  Carting the kids around to hockey practice.  Bringing them up to Bluewater Beach to swim like we did when we were kids.  I want that with you, Snook.  D’you want that with me?”

His breath hitched in his throat at the thought of children – their children, with all their personality quirks and mops of hair and sandy toes from the beach.  “I want that more than anything.”

She made sure to kiss him quickly – a peck so small it almost didn’t register as a kiss.  “Then what’s stopping us?  Why can’t we do it?  Because you don’t feel like you can take care of me even though you have since I was seventeen?  You’ve taken care of me, Snook.  All this time.  You’ve taken care of my body.  You’re the only one that’s taken care of my body.   And more importantly, you’ve taken care of my mind, my soul.”

“I’ve taken care of you because I love you,” he whispered.

“Have I taken care of you?” Whitney asked.

Ryan nodded his head immediately.  “You always have.  Just by being you.  By being there for me.  By being my sweetness.”

“Then let’s do it.  You and me.  Because we love each other.  Because we’ve loved each other since we were kids.  Because we take care of each other.  Right?”

“Right.”

“If I take care of you, will you take care of me?”

Whitney waited.  She waited and she waited and she waited, looking into Ryan’s big blue eyes for a response.  The same blue eyes she fell in love with as a kid.  The same blue eyes that brought her so much comfort and love.  The same blue eyes she could find her own soul in.

Finally, he spoke.  “Yes.”

Whitney had waited a long time to hear those words.  She wanted to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.  She needed to confirm.  “Yes?”

He nodded.  “Yes.”

More confirmation was needed.  “We’ll get married, Snook?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.  I’ve just been scared, sweetness.  We’ll get married,” he confirmed.  “I’ll give you everything.  I’ll take care of you.  I love, you Whit.”

She kissed him again, much more passionately this time.  “I love you, Snook,” she said against his lips.  “I can’t wait to be your wife.  We’re going to spend the rest of our lives taking care of each other, right?”

“Yes.  Yes,” he affirmed, kissing her again. 

Ryan held her tight onto his body as he moved back on to the bed.  They continued to kiss for a long time, long enough that Whitney’s lips got red and puffy, with Ryan whispering “I love you, I love you so much” over and over again like he was reciting a prayer.  To have Ryan be hers was all Whitney ever wanted, and she couldn’t believe they had finally gotten to this point.  After ten years and countless secrets, grief and elation and success, Ryan was able to overcome his fear.  Whitney was able to help him.  They would be able to live their lives now as they always wanted to; no longer in secret.  They could hold hands in front of their parents.  They could give each other quick kisses on the backyard deck.  They could wrap their arms around each other in front of friends.  Nobody would have to second-guess or question their love for one another.  They could just be how they were with each other in front of other people.  Whitney anticipated it to be the most liberating feeling in the world, to be able to proclaim that she loved Ryan O’Reilly, and Ryan O’Reilly loved her, and that they were going to build a life together.  A life they wanted.  A life they deserved together.

“Make love to me Snook,” she whispered in his hear as her hand played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Ryan took his time, kissing along her jawline before moving down to her neck and clavicle, covering every inch of her skin with his kisses.  He helped her get out of her shirt and bra before she helped tug his own shirt off.  Whitney quickly leaned back so Ryan could take her pants and underwear off – same with him – before she got back into his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders so they were physically close.

“I love you, Snook.”

“I love you too, sweetness.”

“You need to know you’ve never hurt me before in my life,” she stressed.  “Not even the accident.  Never, okay Snook?”

Ryan nodded his head.  “Let me kiss you.”

Their lips crashed together again, their tongues stuck down each other’s throats.  Whitney made sure to run her fingers through his hair, because she knew he liked that.  Ryan made sure to drag his hands down to her hips, squeezing at the flesh there and making her grind into his lap before moving his hands onto her ass.  “You need to know something too,” he said, his voice low.

“What’s that?”

“It’s always been you, Whit.  Since we were kids.  I’ll take care of you until the day I die.”

Those were words Whitney had wanted to hear for a long time, considering he was saying them now in the context of her being his wife.  She felt so elated and so happy that it was almost as if the ten years of waiting was worth it.  “Make love to me, Snook.  Like you love to do.”

One of his hands snuck between their bodies so he could position his hard cock at her entrance.  He took the opportunity to tease her only for a few seconds before pushing it in.  Whitney grinded her hips in his lap, getting him all the way inside her.  She paused, her mouth open against Ryan’s.  She didn’t care how many times it happened; every time he was inside of her, Whitney swore she saw stars.  “You’re so big, Snook.  So perfect for me.”

“Love you so fucking much, Whit,” he whispered in her ear.  His hands moved back to her hips, helping guide them as she moved in his lap.

“God you feel so good,” she whispered, leaning back slightly and exposing more of her neck and decolletage to Ryan.  He took the opportunity to kiss her everywhere, leaving some love bits on the way as he licked and sucked at her skin.  Eventually, he made his way down to her breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, causing her to sigh in pleasure.  Her nails were digging into his back; she was holding on to him for dear life.  “Keep doing that, Snook.”

He kept up with his kissing and love bites between her breasts, eventually moving to the other and taking the other nipple in his mouth too.  Whitney continued her movements in his lap, and he could tell that she was trying to make this last.  Good.  If it were up to him, it would last all night.  He’d test the limits of what was physically possible.  “You’re so beautiful, Whit.  I could kiss every inch of you.”

“You’re lucky you have,” she couldn’t help but smile.  “And you’re going to get to the rest of your life.”

They looked deep into each other’s eyes then, the heat of their bodies radiating between them.  “I can’t wait for you to be the mother of my children.”

Whitney smiled widely this time, unable to contain it.  “I can’t wait, either.”

“Don’t think I didn’t ever want that with you.  I did.  I always did.  I was just scared—”

“—It’s okay, Snook,” she put her index finger on his lips.  “You don’t have to be scared of hurting me anymore.”

He kissed her, unable to say anything else.  Whitney began running her hands through his hair.  They kissed again for a while, until both could feel their orgasms building.  “I love you, Snook.  Will you come inside me?”

Ryan nodded quickly.  “Always,” he said.  “I’m the only one.”

“That’s right.  You’re the only one that gets to come inside me.”

After some more kissing, both Ryan and Whitney felt their orgasms rush through their bodies at the same time.  Whitney held him close, gripping on to Ryan for dear life, their heads on each other’s shoulders as they cried out in ecstasy.  They let it last as long as possible, riding it out for as much as they could before their breath started to come back to them and they sunk into each other’s arms. 

Whitney was the first to pull back slightly, only to have her lips meet with Ryan’s again in a series of small, slow, lazy pecks.  She could rest her lips on him all night if she could.  “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Will you hold me in your arms as we sleep?”

Ryan couldn’t help but smile.  “You never have to ask me that.  I’ll always hold you.”

They shifted positions, Ryan pulling the covers off the bed and Whitney getting under them.  She snuggled into his body as he draped the covers over them, and he wrapped his arms around her when he was done, making sure she was comfortable.  “Hey Whit?”

“Yeah Snook?”

“I’m sorry you were waiting for me.”

Whitney couldn’t help but smile slightly to herself.  There was no reason for him to feel guilty.  It took a while, yes, but this was their story.  And it would always be their story now.  “Don’t apologize,” she said.  “I have you.  That’s all I need.”

[nichethings]

cyril's actor has so much rizz its not even funny

[sergeifyodorov]

SO curious 2 know if the rasmus "i fucking hate him" dahlin comment in ur newest fic re: jack eichel had any real life corollary

sincerely, from not a sabres fan but might just be after ur fic!

so i WILL preface this by stating that eichel very much was a victim of circumstance -- sure, he was the second-most touted prospect in his draft class by some margin (the tier list went: mcdavid-eichel-strome and marner were seen as about the same tier) but it was made fairly clear that the sabres' management group at the time didn't want him. they wanted mcdavid and were pissed they didn't get him. can only imagine what it's like to live your nhl dream only to be immediately told you weren't wanted.

that being said, the time of his captaincy in buffalo was said to be... how do i put this. a Miserable Fucking Experience for literally everyone involved. ryan o'reilly, for example, was a sabre for three years overlapping with the start of eichel's captaincy, and during his time there almost completely lost his passion for the sport. ROR is one example, but there are multiple reports like this from sabres who were sabres for any length of time at all during the eichel days.

the sabres seem to be in a much better headspace now that he's gone -- not that they're a great team, but they seem to like each other -- so that's good! but it's still probable (although im not a sabres fan so take this all with a grain of salt) that sabres who were there during the eichel years, eg dahlin, wouldn't look fondly on the guy.

[senditcolton]

Always Leave Me Wanting More

summary: winning the Stanley Cup is every players dream. and now that your husband Ryan has managed to achieve it twice, the only thing he’s wants to do is celebrate with you... and think about what’s next for the two of you.

song word count: 5.9k warnings: smut! semi-public, oral (female receiving), and breeding kink

Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone. Please don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but don’t attack me or others!

There were times in your life where you wondered if everything was worth it. If all the pain and heartache and sacrifices you made in your life actually mattered, actually meant something.

And then there were moments like these, when you realized that you would go through everything a hundred times over again if it meant that you got to be here: sitting in a ballroom, wearing your best dress, as you watch the love of your life receive a ring in commemoration of an achievement that every hockey player dreamed of.

You watch, the smile never leaving your face, as your husband Ryan opened up the jewelry box that held the St. Louis Blues Stanley Cup ring. Watching as his blue eyes lit up with such childlike excitement as he spied the diamonds nestled in the blue velvet. Watching as that dazzling smile widens once he slips the ring over his finger. You don’t say anything – you aren’t even sure if you could put this moment into words. Instead, you simply lean over and press your lips into his, feeling his smile against yours.

The night was perfect. That was simply the best word for it. You were surrounded by people you loved, people you admired, and currently, you were laughing with one of your close friends Melanie as she finished recounting her latest work drama, her daughter Hartford in her arms.

“You always think you’re being perfectly clear and literally spelling it out and still they don’t understand,” she sighs, her eyes rolling back.

“That’s always the case, and not just in work. Husbands are like that sometimes.”

“And kids. Saylor is getting into her ‘no’ phase and Torey and I are… working through it,” Mel laughs, looking around the ballroom. You follow her gaze and see Saylor toddling around the carpeted floor, running up to every person and saying hello. That is, until she spies Torey closing in on her which is when she runs off, her high-pitched giggles filling the room.

“Well, at least this one is still a few years from that,” you say, leaning forward and holding your hand out to Hartford. She gives you that adorable baby smile, her chubby cheeks bright and rosy.

“Thankfully,” Mel agrees with you. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Sure,” you reply and you hold out your arms, letting Melanie carefully transfer her daughter into your grasp and you lift her up towards you, resting her on your hip.

“So, how have you and Ryan been?” Mel asks as you gently bounce Hartford.

“We’ve been good. Just kind of taking in the married life. I’ve been focusing on work and, of course, Ryan has been working in his own way.”

“To great success,” Mel teases and the two of you share a laugh.

“Yeah,” you say, taking in everything around you. “We’ve been good.” You hear Hartford start to babble next to you and you look down, taking a brief moment to adjust the bow perched on top of her head. She has her arms outstretched, her small hands clapping as she continues to coo and you follow her gaze towards the Stanley Cup, standing big and bright and a shining silver in the center of the room.

“What’s that Hartford?” you ask, your voice light. “Is that the Stanley Cup? Did your dad win that?” Her response is more adorable baby nonsense and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“Do you want to go see it?” you ask her, shooting a glance over towards Melanie, subtly aiming the question at her as well.

“Go for it,” she replies. “Besides, it looks like I might have to help Torey wrangle Saylor.” You both glance behind you and see Saylor continuing to laugh and run around the tables always escaping Torey’s grasp like she had been for the past few minutes. Mel glances back at you with an exasperated look and you both share a small chuckle before she departs to help her husband. You look back to the child in your arms and smile at her.

“Let’s go see Lord Stanley, huh Hartford?” She coos back at you in response and you walk towards the table where the Cup is sitting. Hartford’s excited giggles increase as you get closer and you laugh with her. When you finally arrive, you lean Hartford in close, her hands reaching out and grasping the lip of the Cup. You gently take her hands, bringing her back to you before crouching down to the edge of the table, your vision lining up with the bottom ring, the names of the Blues freshly engraved on the metal.

“There’s your daddy, Hartford,” you gently explain to her, pointing to the pressing of Torey’s name. “And there’s Ryan’s name,” you point a few rows up to where your husband is engraved. “And let’s see here…” you trail off, lifting yourself up to walk around the Cup, finding the Bruins 2011 win, “there’s your dad’s old team.” You point to the names in small print as Hartford continues to babble in your arms. You press a kiss to the top of her head and you continue to point at the Cup and all the names engraved on the silver; from some of the old great players as well as those more recent players who were sure to go down in history.

“I can also show you when the Blues won the Cup in 2019 but your dad doesn’t like to talk about that year because he was on the losing team,” you whisper into the crown of her head and you can hear her giggle at feeling of your breath tickling through her hair.

“What are you teaching my daughter now Y/N?” you hear Torey’s voice sound from behind you and you turn to see him walking up to you, Melanie close behind, Saylor’s hand wrapped in hers. Hartford starts to babble again as soon as she sees her dad, the Cup completely forgotten as her hands reach out to him instead.

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you help transfer her from your arms into his. “Just telling her about 2019,” you explain innocently and you see Torey’s eyes playfully glare at you.

“We don’t talk about 2019.”

“Well, you might not but I do,” you say, reaching out towards Hartford and she grabs on to one of your fingers. “When you’re old enough, you should ask you dad to show you the picture of him and Uncle Robbie during that series and then he can tell you how they became the bestest of friends after that.”

“Uncle Robbie!” Saylor squeals, recognizing the name and you and Melanie laugh at her response. Torey lets out a light-hearted groan, looking back towards you.

“Look at what you’re doing,” Torey lightly scolds and you just laugh.

“You know I can’t help it. Have to make sure the girls know their St. Louis Blues history. It’s very important stuff.”

“Well, we’re actually just about to head out,” Melanie explains. You peel away from leaning in to give you a quick half-hug, Saylor still holding onto her hand.

“Aw, already?”

“Got to get the girls home and in bed before they get too tired,” she explains and you nod in understanding. You lean in and give Torey a quick hug congratulating him once again on the win, even though everyone has said the same thing a million times over. You press another quick kiss to the crown of Hartford’s head, smiling as she lets out some more baby babbling. Finally, you crouch down and open your arms for Saylor. She comes running into them, giving you a hug and you wrap your arms around her in return. You quickly lift her up into the air, causing her to shriek and giggle at the sudden movement before placing her down again. You gently pull away from her, turning her towards her mother and she happily takes Melanie’s hand. You lift yourself up off the floor, watching as they all start to walk out of the ballroom but before you know it, Saylor is turning around.

“Bye-bye,” she shouts to you, her little hand waving and you instinctively blow her a small kiss, waving your fingers goodbye to her as well.

You sigh, watching as the Krugs head out, a soft smile appearing on your face as you watch Torey lean in to give Melanie a quick kiss, Hartford in his arms and Saylor toddling between them. They were such a beautiful family and part of you couldn’t wait for the day that that was you and Ryan; successful and happy and completely content.

You are still caught up in the moment that you don’t even notice Ryan coming up behind you, as if he could hear your thoughts, until his arms wrap around your waist. You don’t even startle, so sure of Ryan’s energy that your only response is to lean back into him, sighing as he presses a soft kiss against your temple. You almost expect it to stop there, Ryan never being one for big displays of public affection but you are caught off guard by his lips trailing down, kissing the spot behind your ear that he knows makes you weak and then moving even lower to kiss your neck. You are certain he can feel your pulse jump underneath him and it is almost confirmed for you as you feel his lips curl against your skin. He finally pulls his lips away from you and you take a few moments to catch your breath.

“What was that for?” you ask, your voice still a little breathless.

“Nothing,” Ryan whispers into your hair, his arms still wrapped tightly around you, his hands absentmindedly dancing across your waist and hips.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I believe you,” you hum, your body instinctively arching back into his. Ryan doesn’t say anything for a few moments, staying silent as his hands continue to rest heavily on your body.

“You’re really good with kids,” he finally mutters into your hair. You know those words should not have the effect that they do on you now but the way Ryan said them – the heavy tone, the almost growl that you heard lingering in the back of his throat, the way his hands tightened on your hips – it had butterflies erupting in your stomach and a rush of heat being sent down your body.

Spinning in Ryan’s arms, you turn to face him, your arms going up to rest on his shoulders, fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Have you been watching me, Mr. Ryan O’Reilly?” you ask teasingly.

“Only every second,” comes his quick reply, his sparkling steel blue eyes looking down at you through his thick lashes, your body warming under his gaze. You gently lift yourself up to connect your lips to his and you sigh as he pulls you in closer. Your heartbeat quickens as he deepens the kiss, his hands wandering from your hips to the small of your back and starting to sink lower until you pull away from him. His movements pause as you look up at him, a puzzled look on your face.

“What has gotten into you?” you question, your tone light but curious.

“Nothing. Like I said,” he continues, playing coy as his lips find their way back to your skin, a kiss punctuating each of his next words. “You’re just really, really, good with kids.”

“Ryan,” you say, drawing out his name in warning as you tear yourself away from him once more. Ryan simply grins down at you, his hands resting on the small of your back.

What follows is an entirely silent conversation.

One of your eyebrows raising in question. Ryan’s eyes darting around before focusing on a fixed point across the room. You following his stare to the small hallways that lead to the private restrooms. Ryan’s hands tightening on your hips, tugging you closer. Whipping your head back to him, your eyes widening in disbelief. A small shrug and mischievous look from Ryan. Your eyes rolling, tearing away from his gaze, gently shaking your head, a breathy laugh falling from you. A pause, the smirk tugging at your lips as the thought dances through your mind. A glance back at him, that grin still on your face. Lifting yourself up to capture him in a kiss that leaves both of you wanting more.

Pulling away from him, the glint in your eyes daring him to make the next move.

Before you can even blink, Ryan is unwinding himself from around you, taking your hand in his and walking you down towards the secluded hallway and it’s private rooms. You try to slow him, make your pace seem more leisurely so as not to arouse suspicion. Although, you wanted to be alone as quickly as he did.

The journey felt like it took forever but as soon as Ryan pulled you into the single bathroom and you heard the definitive click of the lock fall into place, all of your facades dropped.

It wasn’t clear who made the first advance but it didn’t matter when you had Ryan pressed up against you. You gladly let him take the lead, his strong body pushing you further back into the room, your lips still locked together. You let out a small gasp as you felt the back of your thighs hit the countertop of the sink and Ryan takes that as an opportunity for his lips to trail downwards. You head spun as you felt him all over you; his mouth tracing your skin, his hands dancing everywhere – gripping your waist, your hips, your thighs, lifting one of them up to hook over the back of his own as he pressed you deeper against the sink.

“Ryan,” you whine, his name high and tight in the back of your throat.

“What is it, darling?” Ryan whispers against your skin, placing open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones. “What do you need?”

“You.”

The response comes out of your mouth before you even register the words. Ryan lifts his lips off of your chest, his head raising to connect his eyes back to yours. You swallow thickly, feeling the heat radiating from his body and your own body warm from his previous actions. Your hands lift, coming to rest on the base of his skull, fingers gently running through his hair. One of Ryan’s hands follows a similar path, lifting from your hip to cup your face, thumb caressing your jawline and tracing your lips.

“I just need you,” you breathe out.

The corners of Ryan’s lips quirk up, his eyes soft as he continues to stare down at you. He did this often even though you weren’t sure if he even knew what he was doing; making you feel as if you were the only person in the world, that you were all that he ever wanted. It’s what made you fall in love with him in the first place… and you fell a little more every time he looked at you like this.

Ryan leans in closer until his lips just barely touch yours and you swear that you can feel everything; his breath fanning over your cheeks, the lightest tickles of his beard on your skin, the heat radiating from his body. There is a beat, a moment of silence where he just stays there and you can’t stop your chest from heaving, your fingers flexing as you try to resist pulling him that final millimeter towards you.

“You’ll always have me,” he whispers.

Your resolve finally crumbles and you don’t hesitate an instant longer before pulling his lips to yours. The kiss felt like fire, igniting your body, sending that passion and desire rushing through you as you try to bring him closer, deepening the kiss, both of your legs wrapping around his hips, heels pressing into the back of his thighs. Ryan groans into your open mouth and you gladly swallow the sound, desperate for everything he could give you.

It takes Ryan’s hands slipping underneath the silk of your dress for you two to break apart, your head falling back, hitting the mirror behind you, the contrast of the cool glass against your scalp sending another shiver down your spine. Ryan returns to the spot on your chest, kissing your hot skin above the neckline of your dress. You whine as you feel his coarse fingertips trace over the lace of your underwear, teasing you by touching everywhere but the one place you wanted.

The whimper that leaves your throat is a clear enough request for Ryan, who finally slips his hands underneath your waistband and runs his fingers down your slit.

“Fuck sweetheart,” he growls against you, his teeth grazing your collarbones as he feels your arousal pulsing from you. “Is this all for me?”

Your only response is another whine, your hips canting up, chasing his fingers, silently begging for more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he continues and he resumes his movements against your core, “so wet and desperate. Just for me.”

You have to bite back the loud moan that wants to fall from your lips when Ryan finally plunges his fingers into you, his thumb coming to press against your clit sending another rush of heat down to your core. 

Your body aches for him, lifting, writhing towards him if only to get feel him more. Ryan reads your desperation clearly and moves his fingers within you, the pressure on your clit steady. His other hand delicately slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, the movements in sharp contrast to those happening between your thighs. That is, until he pulls down the front of your gown, exposing your chest to the cool air of the bathroom. You gasp, feeling your nipples pebble before Ryan’s head ducks down, his lips closing over one of them. 

The stimulation from his lips, his tongue, his fingers, against your breasts, against your core, is simultaneously all too much and yet not enough. Your body moves with reckless abandon: your head thrown back, chest heaving, hips chasing his thrusts, hands burying themselves deeper into his hair.

Somehow, your head is too scrambled to even gather how, Ryan untangles himself from you, removing himself from your body entirely. Your keening whine is short-lived before his hands grip your hips, your feet hitting the floor as he spins you around and you gasp as you feel the edge of the counter press against the tops of your thighs.

Ryan’s hands trace their way up your body, one gripping your breast, the other stopping to rest on the concaves of your collarbones, his fingers spanning across your throat, tilting your head to the side. His hot breath tickles against the shell of your ear and you press your hips back against his, whimpering when you feel the hard ridge of him press against the curves of your ass.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he whispers and your eyes flutter open. The moan that threatens to spill from your lips is dangerous as your eyes connect in the mirror, the shiver that runs down the length of your body as you see his heavy stare on you.

“Look at me,” Ryan continues, his lips a whisper against your temple, “and tell me what you want. Exactly what you want me to do to this perfect fucking body of yours.”

You mewl, your head falling forward as far as it can, your eyelashes fluttering as you try to compose yourself enough to answer his demand. Ryan doesn’t make it easy, his other hand continuing to play with your nipples, his lips pressing against that spot behind your ear that he knows damn well makes you putty in his grasp.

“I want,” you begin, your words stuttered and unsteady. You attempt to gasp in enough air to clear your head to give him a full reply. “I want your mouth on me. Please, Ryan, please make me cum on your tongue.”

You feel his chest rumble in a soft chuckle before he presses a kiss into your hair.

“Anything for you,” he mumbles and you let your eyes close, melting back into his body before you feel him peel away from you, his hands disappearing from your skin. You open your eyes in enough time to see him shoot you a mischievous wink in the mirror before he is sinking down onto the tile floor behind you.

The trembles that echo through your body are never ceasing as you feel Ryan’s hands caress legs, fingers tracing up the taut muscle of your calves, over your knees before reaching the hem of your dress, toying with the fabric. He continues his path, pushing the silk up your thighs and you lightly pull your body away from the marble edge of the basin, allowing the fabric to lift the last few inches before Ryan is pulling your dress over the curve of your ass, letting it pool around your hips.

His fingers abandon the silk in turn for the lace that still covered your aching core. Ryan tugs at the elastic of the waistband, playfully snapping it against your skin before twisting it in his fingers and torturously pulling it down. You hiss as your soaked cunt is exposed to the cool air, your hips moving on their own accord. Ryan doesn’t give any form of acknowledgment; just simply continues to glide your underwear down until they finally reach the bottom of you legs. A warm hand comes to wrap around your ankle, gently lifting your foot off the tile and carefully pulling the elastic over your heels before repeating on the other side until the scrap of lace is entirely removed from your body.

Your head spins when you feel Ryan’s lips press against the smooth skin on the back of your thighs. His fingers retrace their path up your legs, his lips trailing close behind and you can’t stop the short breaths of anticipation that fall from your chest.

The hot and heavy palm that lands on the small of your back is demanding yet reverent as Ryan’s fingers splay out, pressing down against you and pushing your torso forward, exposing more of your center to him. He presses two teasing kisses on the apex of your thighs before his mouth finally hits your core. You moan outright as his lips move, his tongue plunging into your core, the vibrations from his own moans rushing through you. You can feel your own body thrumming as he continues to eat you out, his hands coming to knead the flesh of your cheeks, pulling your hips closer to his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp as his lips trail down to wrap around your clit, moving against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you reeling for more, whimpers falling from your lips as your hands try to grip the smooth porcelain of the sink in front of you. Ryan doesn’t stop, not that you would want him to when you felt like you were right on the edge of that precipice.

Even though you knew it was coming, your orgasm still takes you by surprise, rushing through you as you clench around nothing. Ryan feels your core pulsing against his tongue, hears those high whines pulling themselves from your throat, echoing around the bathroom as you fall apart. He continues to lap at your folds, gently cleaning the arousal spilling from you, extending your orgasm impossibly longer until your legs were trembling underneath his hands, the sturdy countertop the only thing holding you upright.

Ryan finally removes mouth from your core, once again pressing a light kiss onto the back of your thigh before lifting himself up. His hand reaches out to you, grasping your chin and pulling your head up from it’s slumped position to pull your lips into his. You moan into his open mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he presses himself against your spent body.

“So perfect, so pretty when you cum for me,” he growls into the kiss, his hips grinding into you, and you hiss as you feel the edge of the marble press into the delicate skin of the top of your thighs, the slight sharp pain mixing perfectly with the dull pulsing pleasure still thrumming through your body. The two of you continue to make out, lips and tongues clashing. You can feel Ryan adjusting behind you but your brain is so overwhelmed that you don’t react to his movements until you feel the velvet head of his cock press against your soaked folds.

“Ryan,” you moan into his mouth as he grinds against your bare core.

“Come on, darling,” he whispers. “Don’t you want me to fuck you, nice and deep? Bend you over this counter and fill you up?”

His questions send your mind into a tailspin and you can barely form a word as you feel him slide against your slit, nudging your clit causing more incoherent noises to fall from your lips.

“That pretty pussy of yours is practically begging for my cum,” Ryan continues. “So nice and wet for me, ready to take my cock. So, tell me sweetheart, is that what you want?”

You frantically nod your head in agreement, anything to stop his teasing torment.

“Uh huh, I need your words,” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yes, Ryan. Please. I need it, I need you. Please fill me up, give me your cum, make me yours.”

You might have imagined it, but you swear that you feel his mouth curl into a smile against the side of your skull at your begging. But you don’t have enough time to confirm or even care because before you can, Ryan presses into you, slipping into your tight cunt and you moan unabashedly as your head falls back against his shoulder.

Ryan plunges deeper into you, groaning against your neck when he feels your walls fluttering against his length. Your hands fly up to reach behind you, grasping at the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair. Whine after whine falls from your lips when Ryan starts to move, creating a slow and sensual rhythm that makes you succumb to him and he leaves open mouthed kisses on your throat, careful not to linger in one place as to not leave a mark, still insanely cognizant of where you were and exactly what you were doing.

“Babe, faster,” you plead, desperate for him. Ryan obliges, pulling himself almost completely from you before sharply thrusting back into you. The force lurches your body forward, hands dropping back to the cold marble to steady yourself as your head falls.

“Like this, darling?” Ryan asks, his voice up ticked in a teasing lilt.

“Yes – fuck – just like that,” you whine, the obscene sounds of him slapping against you filling the bathroom. Ryan leans forward, caging your body in between the marble basin and his own, his chest pressed against your back.

There are too many sensations happening all at once, your mind spinning to try and register all of them: the heat of Ryan’s body draped over yours, the feeling of his steady thrusts in between your thighs, his hot breath against your temple. The edge of the countertop bites your thighs and you know the fragile skin there will be mottled with purple and blue bruises in no time. But you can’t find it in you to care because you know it was all worth it to hear the things that Ryan is saying to you.

“Gonna fuck you so good, fill this perfect cunt with my cum. Want to give you a baby. What do you think about that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“God, please, Ryan,” you huff out, the sentence choppy as you can feel your second orgasm creeping up on you. Ryan can feel it to, feeling the way you clench around him when you get close. Quietly, his hand creeps up your chest, returning to its familiar resting place at the base of your throat as he gently pulls your head up. Your eyes fly open with a whimper as he slows his movement and your heart catches in your throat as you look into the mirror once more, seeing Ryan tight against you.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, trapping your reflection under his stare. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

Your only response is the barest of nods as you force your eyes to stay connected to his. He presses a contrastingly gentle kiss against your temple before moving again, slowly building up to the speed and forceful rhythm that he knows makes you unravel. You have channel all your power into keeping your eyes open and locked on him as Ryan’s hands fall to yours, your fingers intertwining as his body drapes almost entirely over you.

The pants that fall from you are fast and sharp as your high builds until finally, finally, the tension snaps like a rubber band and your orgasm hits you. Your head falls forward as your mouth falls open in a silent scream, your breath shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Ryan is close behind you, powerless against the vice-like feeling of you clenching around him. The deep, guttural groan that rumbles from his chest vibrates through you and your core involuntarily flutters as you feel him spill deep within you.

You hear Ryan’s quiet voice, praising you and repeating your name like a mantra, bringing you back to him. A heavy sigh escapes your chest as you swallow, trying to gather yourself. Although, it proves difficult when you can still feel Ryan inside you, his lips dancing over your shoulders, pressing kisses in between your shoulder blades. His hands remove themselves from yours, fingertips running across your wrists and arms, coaxing you to release your white-knuckled grip from cool porcelain edge of the sink.

It takes a few more moments and a few more deep breaths before you do, your body growing lax. Ryan’s hands continue up your arms until they reach the thin straps of your dress that were resting against your biceps. He grasps the fabric, gliding them back up to rest on your shoulders before moving downward, adjusting the silk against your chest and slowly covering your exposed body.

After another heavy sigh, you lick your lips and swallow thickly, finally managing to lift your torso with a little help from Ryan’s hand now placed gently on your stomach as he pulls your body upright along with his. Your muscles are lax, the haze from your post-orgasm making you feel like you were floating. The most you could do is let your head loll back on his shoulder and release another sigh as you feel Ryan lips kiss your temple.

You turn your head to the side, finally looking up at him and meeting his loving gaze. You let a weak smile pull at your lips which Ryan mirrors. It is only a second until he is dropping his lips down to meet your in a dizzying kiss, consuming you completely. A whine comes from you, piercing through the silence of the bathroom as Ryan moves his hips, one final sharp thrust into you before slowly pulling out. His lips remain on yours the entire time, swallowing every final whimper that falls.

After what has felt like forever, you remove your lips from his, taking in another deep breath as the two of you lean back. It takes another few moments of staying like that, embracing each other until you finally pull away. Ryan separates his body from yours, adjusting himself, before reaching towards the sink, grabbing a wad of paper towels; the best he could do in this current situation. You smile anyway, accepting them and gently cleaning your thighs and core before tossing the paper.

The hem of your dress falls back down to cover the rest of your body, and you smooth out the fabric. Ryan quizzically looks at you, reaching into his inner jacket pocket and pulling out the lace of your underwear, the elastic dangling in the crook of an outstretched finger. You take the lace from him but only to tuck it back into his jacket, shooting him a smirk as you do. He returns your smile, placing a light kiss on your lips before his arms come to wrap around your waist once again and turning you towards the mirror. You stand there in silence, looking at each other’s reflections until you finally speak.

“Were you serious?” you ask, turning your head to look directly at him. “About everything you said?”

“You mean about kids?” he clarifies. You nod your head in confirmation and you feel his chest raise as he takes a deep breath in, tearing his eyes from you as he looks up. He did that a lot, when he was trying to organize his thoughts.

“I mean, yeah,” he replies. “It’s just tonight, I thought, you know, here I am, Captain of my team, celebrating with them after winning the trophy that everyone wants to win. And I have my beautiful wife by my side, supporting me like she always has and always does.”

You smile at his words, your heart silently reaching for him.

“But then I saw you with Hartford sitting on your hip and how good you are with her – with everyone’s kids to be honest – and I couldn’t help thinking: look at all this, all these things that I’ve accomplished… and yet that’s the one thing that I still don’t have.”

Ryan pauses, his eyes dropping down to reconnect with yours and your feel your breath catch in your throat for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Although this time, it wasn’t in anticipation or excitement. It was because Ryan was staring at you like you had hung the stars in the very sky.

“And I’ve never wanted to have that more than I’ve wanted it with you,” he concludes, kissing your forehead softly. You can’t stop the giddy smile that dances across your lips at Ryan’s words, your body curling into him.

“So, yes,” Ryan continues after a brief moment, “I’d like to start trying for a family with you. As long as you are ready as well.”

There is no hesitation when you spin around in his arms and pulling him into another kiss. Ryan gladly returns the kiss and you can feel his smile against your lips.

“I would love to,” you say, breaking away from him. “I would love to start a family with you. In fact, you actually kind of read my mind earlier.” Ryan shoots a small confused glance your way causing a small giggle to fall from you. “When Mel and Torey and Saylor and Hartford were leaving, I thought, ‘I can’t wait for the day that’s us’.”

“Who knows,” Ryan says, smiling down at you. “Maybe next year, that will be us.”

“That’s a tall order,” you laugh. “A baby and back-to-back Stanley Cups?”

“I know we can make it happen.”

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[eat-sleep-leafs]

What New Skill Did You Learn During Quarantine?

[puckmagic]

NHL meets K-Pop in this funny tribute to some NHL legends!

[leafsbabe]

how Ryan O’Reilly is like in bed

what Ryan O’Reilly is like in bed:

- so

- much

- beard burn

- because he loves to go down on you

- but it’s fine

- if your inner thighs are too sensitive he’s got talented fingers as well

- he would love to start out soft and gentle but he definitely has a rougher side

- the first few times aregonna be rather vanilla but he’s open to exploring

- his favorite position is definitely doggy

- biiiiiig fan of lingerie

- total beast in bed so prepare to go several rounds

his dick:

- you can’t tell me this man ain’t packing

- i just know he has a big dick

the experience:

9.5/10

[bambigoose]

Fundraising Stress - R. O’Reilly

Day 14

Joining the WAGs this year was an overwhelming task, the amount of fundraising they do is basically a second job. Joining the WAGs as Ryan O’Reilly’s girlfriend was an entirely different undertaking. You’ve been stressed since September and it was going nowhere. Every new idea was picked over and torn apart before finally settling on decorating trees for the public to bid on. The idea went over well and the boys were all willing to contribute, hell you had to remind Colton a tree can only hold so much in an attempt to get him to stop.

Sitting down to do Ryan’s tree exhaustion was setting in, work was overwhelmed with party planning for the holidays and corralling the single guys into designing their trees and taken everything out of you. Tears filled your eyes, as the headache pounded in your temples. You were so distracted Ryan’s arrival wasn’t even noticed until he put an arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side. “Hey babe.” he calls, dropping a kiss to the ticklish area of your neck and laughing as you squirmed. “I think it's nap time.”

“Ryan, I can’t. This tree needs to get done.” The exhaustion in your voice causing his heart string to pull. He wrapped his arms around your waist falling to his side on the couch and pulling you in front of him, overpowering your squirms to escape.

“The tree will still be there in two hours. We’ll work on it together when that headache you’re trying to hide is gone.” he weaseled his head into the space between your neck and shoulder dropping a kiss on the sensitive skin. “Besides, I’ve seen Colt’s, if we decorate our blindfolded its gonna look better than that.”

[samgirard]

└ stanley cup champion, conn-smythe winner: ryan o’reilly + bonus | 6.12.19

[edgessunflower]

Masterlist

Fics i have done!

Fandoms i write for!

Young justice

Kaldur'ahm/Aqualad

Megan morse/Miss martian

Connor kent/Superboy

Artemis crock/Tigress

Jaime reyes/Blue beetle

Cassie sandsmark/Wondergirl

Wally west/Kidflash

Barbara gordon/Batgirl

CSI Vegas

Sara sidle

Nick stokes

Mia dickerson

Greg sanders

Catherine willows

Warrick brown

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Gil grissom

M*A*S*H*

Benjamin hawkeye pierce

Margaret hot lips houlihan

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Margie cutler

Radar o'reilly

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Stranger things

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Steve harrison

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Joyce byers

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Barbara holland

Jim hopper

CSI Miami

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Ryan wolfe

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Horatio caine

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Alice

NCIS NOLA

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Final destination

Clear rivers

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Thomas burke

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The mighty ducks

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Adam banks

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Dean portman

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Emily prentiss

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Trauma center

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Aqua

Terra

Xion

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Roxas

Xmen

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Logan

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Jubliee

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Snow villers

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Lighting farron

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Narnia

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Peter pevensie

Susan pevensie

Edmund pevensie

Mr tumnus

Prince caspian

NCIS LA

Marty deeks

Shay mosley

Sam hanna

Kensi blye

G callen

Fatima nazami

Eric beale

Harley hidoko

Nell jones

Code lyoko

Aelita schaffer

Odd della robbia

Yumi ishiyama

Ulrich stern

Milly solovieff

William dunbar

Tamiya diop

Jeremy belpois

Triple frontier

Will "ironhead" miller

Frankie "catfish" morales

Benny miller

Santiago "pope" garcia

The night shift

Landry de la cruz

Joey chavez

Gwen gaskin

Kenny fornette

Jordan alexander

Michael ragosa

Drew allister

Shannon rivera

TC callahan

Ewan mcgregor characters

Catcher block

Dan torrance

Perry makepeace

Christopher robin

Rodney copperbottom

Robert lewis

Alex law

Edward bloom

Star wars

Crosshair

Cara dune

Luke skywalker

Aayla secura

Hunter

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Tech

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Echo

Finn

Iden versio

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Wrecker

Misc 1

Jack mercer

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Spike spiegel

Toph

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Elizabeth martinson

Casi

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Mahtilda

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Bill s prescott

Iris

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Rachel

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Marta

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Ryan williams

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Toni

Eugene/vida boheme

Tris prior

Murtagh morzzansson

Skeeter

Christian

Stephanie speck

John wick

Viola eade

Jonathan levy

Evey hammond

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz

Casey jones

Marni

Elliot alderson

Misc 2

Chris chambers

Andie anderson

Michael perry

Beatrix "the bride" kiddo

Elliott

Quinn fabray

Benjamin barry

Dani rojas

Billy/four

Daphne moon

Javi gutierrez

Allison reynolds

Hector villanueva

April o'neil

Ned tash

Kara

Don billingsley

Asami sato

Beau hutton

Monica long dutton

Joey coalter

Celine naville

Sam munroe

[wrestlingisfake]

AEW Fake Rankings, March 17

Men's singles division - babyfaces

CM Punk

Adam Page (AEW men's world champion)

Eddie Kingston

Sammy Guevara

Wardlow

Keith Lee

Swerve Strickland

Christian Cage

HOOK

Wheeler YUTA

Men's singles division - heels

Chris Jericho

MJF

Adam Cole

Scorpio Sky (AEW TNT champion)

Andrade El Idolo

Ricky Starks (FTW champion)

Daniel Garcia

Powerhouse Hobbs

Ethan Page

QT Marshall

Unranked: Cezar Bononi*, Erick Redbeard*, Fuego Del Sol, Jake Hager, Lee Moriarty, Nick Comoroto, Tony Nese

* Not listed on AEW's official roster

Six months ago it felt like AEW had a lot of big names from WWE coming in, and I was curious how that would shake out. Interestingly, quite a few of those big names have moved into the tag division, so there's way more room now than I expected for the talent that came up through the minor leagues.

Even so, it's unmistakable that CM Punk and Chris Jericho are the stars of the show right now. Adam Page may be the top champion, but to truly be taken seriously as the top dog he's going to have to put the title up against one of them, and my guess is it'll be Punk. As for Jericho, he's already put over Kingston, but I think his first one-on-one loss with this new heel run will be where he really gives someone the rub. Could be Eddie again, or perhaps Guevara.

Men's tag team division - babyfaces

Jon Moxley (GCW world champion) & Bryan Danielson

The Hardys - Matt Hardy & Jeff Hardy

Darby Allin & Sting

Luchasaurus & Jungle Boy (AEW tag team champions)

Penta Obscuro & PAC

Santana & Ortiz

Top Flight - Dante Martin & Darius Martin

Alex Reynolds & John Silver

Chuck Taylor & Trent Beretta

Varsity Blonds - Brian Pillman Jr. & Griff Garrison

Men's tag team division - heels

The Young Bucks - Nick Jackson & Matt Jackson

reDRagon - Bobby Fish & Kyle O'Reilly

FTR - Cash Wheeler & Dax Harwood (AAA tag team champions)

Malakai Black & Brody King & Buddy Matthews

2point0 - Matt Menard & Angelo Parker

The Acclaimed - Max Caster & Anthony Bowens

Private Party - Marq Quen & Isiah Kassidy

The Butcher & The Blade

Colten Gunn & Austin Gunn

Unranked: Alan Angels & Preston Vance, Anthony Henry* & JD Drake*, Bear Boulder & Bear Bronson, Brock Anderson & Lee Johnson, Evil Uno & Stu Grayson, Peter Avalon & Ryan Nemeth*

* Not listed on AEW's official roster

AEW helpfully got nearly every tag team booked in a couple of battle royales recently, which showed off the division in full force. But all of those teams have been overshadowed by three supergroups: Moxley-Danielson, Allin-Sting, and the reunited Hardys. Any of these teams would have to be considered heavy favorites against Jungle Boy and Luchasaurus, but none of them have gotten in line for a title shot yet. I'm real curious how AEW will keep them all from crowding out the rest of the field.

The heel side is a little light right now, and it may get lighter if the FTR storyline actually leads to a face turn. We should probably see a face team turn heel before too long. Mox and Bryan already seem kind of heelish, but nobody's going to boo them right now and AEW seems to accept that, so we'll see if that leads anywhere. It feels like something's up with the Dark Order, or at least with Alex Reynolds, but I can't imagine all three of its teams (Reynolds-Silver, Uno-Grayson, Angels-Vance) going heel.

Women's singles division - babyfaces

Thunder Rosa (AEW women's world champion)

Kris Statlander

Tay Conti

Red Velvet

Mercedes Martinez

Women's singles division - heels

Britt Baker

Jade Cargill (AEW TBS champion)

Serena Deeb

Leyla Hirsch

Jamie Hayter

The Bunny

Unranked: Angelica Risk*, Kayla Sparks*, Leila Grey*

* Not listed on AEW's official roster

There's still a lot of work to be done here, to get more women on TV regularly. It's a positive sign that we've been seeing two non-title storylines (Deeb vs. Hikaru Shida, Hirsch vs. Statlander & Velvet) in addition to Baker vs. Rosa and Cargill's winning streak. That's a good demonstration that creating more spots for the women isn't just a matter of rolling out new championships. At the same time, though, it's kind of absurd that Nyla Rose and Ruby Soho haven't been on TV in a month. It's also perplexing to me that a lot of top female talent that WWE cut last year hasn't shown up in AEW yet.

No TV matches in 30 days: Aaron Solo, Abadon, Anna Jay, AQA, Brandon Cutler, Colt Cabana, Diamante*, Emi Sakura, Frankie Kazarian, Jack Evans, Jay Lethal, Jora Johl*, Josh Woods* (ROH pure champion), Kiera Hogan*, KiLynn King*, Lance Archer, Luther, Marina Shafir*, Matt Sydal, Michael Nakazawa, Nyla Rose, Ruby Soho, Serpentico, Shawn Dean, Skye Blue, Sonny Kiss

* Not listed on AEW's official roster, but won at least one AEW match

Fans have been increasingly frustrated that a lot of wrestlers have been "demoted" to Dark and Elevation, the Youtube shows. Thing is, as long as AEW produces these shows, there will always be lower-tier talent that primarily appears on them. The only question is which wrestlers should be considered "lower-tier."

Archer, Lethal, Nyla, and Ruby are obviously just simmering and racking up wins to build to a TV push later. Cutler, Cabana, Diamante, Sakura, Kazarian, Evans, Luther, Sydal, Nakazawa, Serpentico, and Dean seem to be positioned as journeymen who are there to do reps with the developing talent. The rest are presumably considered "in development," for better or worse.

No AEW matches in 30 days: Anthony Greene*, Anthony Ogogo, Dustin Rhodes, Billy Gunn, Hikaru Shida, Joey Janela, Julia Hart*, Leva Bates, Megan Bayne*, Penelope Ford, Shawn Spears, Zack Clayton*

* Not listed on AEW's official roster, but won at least one AEW match

Here's the group that isn't even wrestling on Youtube. Spears and Shida have been appearing on TV recently, so that's fine. Rhodes and Gunn are basically player-coaches so I don't expect them to be around much. I expect Ogogo has travel issues getting into and out of the UK. Janela is planning to leave when his contract expires. Bates has reportedly taken on more of a backstage role, although she did return to the ring not that long ago. Greene, Bayne, and Clayton each have wins in AEW, which generally signals plans for a continuing relationship, but that's not a guarantee.

So of this group, the only ones I'm really scratching my head about are Penelope Ford and Julia Hart. But for all I know they could both be injured or taking time off.

No AEW matches in 2022: Angelico, Arjun Singh*, Brian Cage, Danhausen, Marko Stunt, Paige Vanzant, Ryo Mizunami*, Yuka Sakazaki

* Not listed on AEW's official roster, but won at least one AEW match

Angelico has appeared on Dark recently. Cage has (unexpectedly) had his contract extended, so I figure he'll be returning soon. Danhausen appears to be walking around okay after breaking his leg in October, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's cleared to wrestle. Vanzant just signed so I expect her in-ring debut within a few weeks. Marko is reportedly already out of the company, but AEW still lists him on their website roster. I keep thinking Mizunami and Sakazaki are gone for good, but they still manage to get back to the US once in a while.

Part-time/semi-retired: Christopher Daniels, Mark Henry, Paul Wight, Rebel, William Regal

Regal is listed on the official roster with a win-loss record, just like Sting, Henry, and Wight. That suggests that they expect Regal to have a match someday, although Henry's been here for nearly a year and still hasn't. I really can't imagine Regal working a match in 2022, but then again I didn't think I'd be seeing Sting doing big table spots either.

Inactive

Jake Atlas (left knee - ACL tear)

Kenny Omega (various injuries)

Kip Sabian (shoulder - undisclosed injury)

Miro (right thigh - hamstring injury)

Orange Cassidy (left arm - unspecified injury)

Rey Fenix (left elbow - dislocation)

Riho (right arm - unspecified injury)

I haven't seen any updates on any of these injuries, except that Omega reports that his recovery is taking longer than he planned. Sabian has been appearing for weeks in the audience with a box on his head, so I assume that means he's about to return, but he sure is taking his time with that. I predict Miro to return without warning, when we all least expect it. I also predict Orange will be on TV with that sling for months, and then one day they'll do a gag where he admits he forgot to take the sling off, and he's been medically cleared for weeks.

[spine-buster]

Lost in the Memory | Ryan O'Reilly | Volume IV

gif credit @/schwizzle-schwartz

A/N: Soooooooo many good things! And bad things! And emotional things! Next volume, the playoffs start 😐

“Ryan and I have something to tell you.”

Early the next morning, Whitney felt cold as she woke up in her bed.  After being spoiled by having Ryan’s arms around her all night, it wasn’t a welcome feeling to wake up without his body close to hers.  She rubbed her eyes and they opened slowly, the light from the window causing a longer adjustment period.  When she could finally see at least semi-clearly, she looked around for Ryan.  Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long.  She found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her. 

She got up slowly and quietly, wiggling her way out from underneath the covers before crawling over to him.  He was so deep in thought that he didn’t even turn around, didn’t even feel the bed move under her weight.  When she touched him – her hand tracing a line up his back along his spine – his head finally moved to the side.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders.  “G’morning, Snook,” she said, her voice still sleepy.

“Morning, sweetness.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, lying partially.  “I always do with you.”

Whitney watched as he brought his hand up to caress her arms, his fingertips trailing over the skin on her forearm as he brought it close to him and gave it a quick kiss.  In return, she kissed his bare shoulder.  He was quiet.  And if Whitney knew anything about Ryan, she knew that when he was quiet, he was thinking.  Stuck in his own head.  There were two people able to get him out of his own head: his dad, and her.  She knew she’d have to do that now.  “What are you thinking about, Snook?” she asked.

“Last night.”

“What’s wrong?  Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes,” he responded immediately, leaving no room for any doubt.  “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, sweetness.  I’ve just…I’ve been up thinking about all the memories.  I dreamt of them all night.  Of you and me.”

“What stood out?” she asked.

“So many.  Too many,” he said, leaning back slightly into her body and looking at her over his shoulder.  “I never—I never led you on, did I?”

“No,” Whitney shook her head.  “It just took a while to get to this moment.”

“Did you ever not feel loved by me?” he asked again.

“Never.  I always knew you loved me.  And I don’t just mean when we first got together, when we first kissed when I was sixteen,” she clarified.  “I mean, I always knew you loved me.  Always.  Every time you picked me to be on your team, or gave me extra Nutella on my toast, or let me eat from your bowl when Gareth would steal my popcorn.  I knew that was love too.”

Ryan stayed silent, thinking over her words.  That helped with many of his insecurities, but not with the biggest one.  “You need—you need to do something for me.”

“Anything, Snook.”

“If we’re going to do this, you—you have to tell me if I ever hurt you.”

Whitney’s heart hurt, hearing those words come out of him after everything that was said last night.  “That’s imposs—”

“Whitney,” his voice was stern, serious.  He looked deep into her eyes.  “I mean it.  If I ever hurt you, or—or if I ever don’t take care of you, you have to be honest with me.  I made those promises to you, and you have to tell me when I break them.”

Whitney knew that deep down, all men were insecure about a multitude of things, but in the deepest part of them, there was always one thing they were the most insecure about.  This was it for Ryan.  He wanted to be perfect for her.  He wanted to hold himself to a standard he set, that only he could attain, that would be impossible for everybody else.  This was his deep insecurity because he thought he failed on it in the past.  Ryan had never failed in anything, but he thought he failed in following through on his promise to Gareth, protecting her, taking care of her.  He was never going to let that happen again. 

She nodded.  She knew it would give him piece of mind.  “I promise,” she said.  She moved her hand to cradle his face.  “Snook, I hope you know how happy you make me.”

“I do,” he nodded.  “And you make me so happy too.  Happier than anyone.  You deserve the world, Whit, and I’m gonna do my best to try to give it to you.”

She smiled, giving him a kiss on the lips.  “You know how you can start?”

“How’s that?”

“Make love to me one more time before you leave for the week.”

Ryan smiled.  He still had a while before having to get to the airport, so he knew they could get up to a lot.  “That I can do,” he whispered, giving her a quick kiss.

He turned around fully to get back into bed, but instead of going at each other immediately in a flurry of lips and tongues and kisses, they took their time.  Whitney lay back down and Ryan lay beside her, propping himself up on one arm before beginning to kiss her.  It reminded Whitney so much of how all of this started, how he’d drive them out to Lake Huron for some privacy in case someone in town saw them and they’d put the back seats down and lay like this, ignoring the sunset that they were supposed to be watching.  Ryan was just as sweet and gentle then as he was now.  His core hadn’t changed.  It was just one thing Whitney loved about him.  Hockey and the NHL and all the success that came with it didn’t change him.  He was the same kid from Varna that she grew up with, the same kid who’d give you the shirt off his back.

Come to think of it, they were in the same position in which so many of their rendezvouses happened.  Ryan trying not to overpower or intimidate her with his size, Whitney trying to pull him on top of her body because she wanted him there.  “Snook?”

“Hmm?”

“When are we gonna tell our families?” she asked in between kisses.

“When I get back,” he said.  “I don’t want you to tell them without me here.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll drive up Friday afternoon.  Maybe we’ll even spend the night in Goderich.”

Whitney nodded.  “They’ll be happy for us,” she said in between kisses.  She didn’t know if she was saying it to convince herself – she didn’t know why she was saying it at all, really.  She knew their families would be happy.  “We’ll have to Zoom Owen.”

“We will, we will,” he whispered, attaching his lips to hers again.  He didn’t let up this time; Whitney was barely able to get a breath in until his tongue left her mouth.  “Whit, can I taste you?”

She nodded her head quickly, a quick “Yes, yes” escaping her as Ryan kissing down her body before helping her out of her pajama bottoms. 

He took a pillow and placed it under her hips.  “Hey, look at me,” he whispered, looking up from between her legs.  Ryan waited a few moments after they made eye contact to speak.  “I love you,” he said, his tone strong and steadfast.

“I love you,” she replied, her tone equally as strong and steadfast as it could be when Ryan O’Reilly was between her thighs.

She watched as he kissed the skin of her inner thighs before placing his tongue on her pussy softly.  He was going to enjoy this – she knew he was.  The first time he ate her out, he was just as gentle and just as slow, mostly because she was so nervous.  He held her hand through the whole thing and was down there for so long Whitney thought it was abnormal that it was taking her so long.  Ryan had assured her that it was normal, and that there was no way he was coming back up without making her come. 

She reached her hands down and grabbed on to his hair gently, little sighs and moans escaping her as she felt him suck on her clit expertly.  He knew exactly what to do to make her feel pleasure, knew exactly what to do to make her feel like she was the luckiest girl in the world.  She felt his tongue lap at her pussy, drinking her up like a thick milkshake.  “You do that so good, Snook,” she sighed out, one of the only things she’d said this entire time.

Ryan looked up at her with his big blue eyes, his lips still on her pussy, his beard giving her the best beard burn possible.  She thought she’d be used to it after all these years, after how many times he’d been between her thighs, but she wasn’t.  It was still such a sight to behold.  She could see him smile.  She smiled back and giggled softly before tightening her grip on his hair.

Whitney adjusted the pillow under her hips slightly when she could feel her orgasm building.  “Keep doing that, Snook,” she said.  “Just like that.”

Ryan listened, because he knew what Whitney liked, but also because he knew what he was doing.  He continued to lap at her, her orgasm building within her.  Eventually, with an arch of her back, she cried out as her orgasm flooded over her.  She squeezed Ryan’s head between her thighs inadvertently, but he didn’t move, his lips and tongue staying on her as she rode out her orgasm, getting every last drop from her.  “God, Snook, every damn time,” she couldn’t help but giggle as she felt his lips leave her pussy.  His lips and beard were glistening with her juices, and she bit her bottom lip at the sight.  “Look at you, baby.”

Ryan pulled back and stood on his knees, and it was only then that Whitney was able to see how hard he’d become just by eating her out.  He pulled his boxers down, freeing his hard cock from its confines before crawling over her.  “You don’t want me to—”

“No no,” he interrupted her softly.  “I need to be inside you.”

She spread her legs for him easily, and he hooked one of them over his torso before pushing into her slowly.  He watched as she closed her eyes, taking all of him in.  When he was fully inside her, he stopped and began moving some hair away from her face gently.  “You’re so deep, Snook,” she breathed out, opening her eyes to look at him.  “It feels so good.”

“When we get married, when you become my wife, I’m gonna spoil you so much,” he said, giving her a quick peck.

“You already spoil me.  How could you spoil me more?”

“I’ll find ways,” he said as he began to move in and out of her slowly.  “You want a bigger house?”

“No.  I love this house.”

“Then I’ll get flowers delivered every week,” he said, causing her to giggle.  “Or brownies.  You love brownies.”

“I can make brownies every week,” she offered.  “But that means extra time training with your dad.”

“Or more sex to burn off all those extra calories.”

Whitney laughed out loud, unable to believe they were actually having this conversation while he was inside her.  “Tell me what else, Snook.”

“Our wedding will be perfect because you’re planning it,” he continued.  “We’ll be surrounded by our family and friends.  We’ll dance all night.”

“Sounds perfect.  We can have it on the lake.  God knows we need to see at least one sunset over Lake Huron one of these days,” she joked.

“I still won’t see it because I’ll be kissing you all night,” he said.

Whitney smiled.  “Tell me more, Snook.  I love this.”

He kissed her before continuing.  “We’re gonna have as many kids as you want.  In this house.”

The thought made Whitney’s breath hitch in her throat.  That was all she ever wanted – a life and a family with Snook.  Now she was getting it.  “Yeah?”

“When you want, when you’re ready, you’re going to take out your IUD, and we’re gonna start a family, Whit.  And when you get big and round I’m gonna go insane cause that’ll be my baby in you.  Our baby.  Ours.”

“You gonna fuck a baby into me, Snook?”

“Yes,” there was the slightest growl in his voice, the slightest hint of possessiveness in his voice.  She knew it would get him going, that wording it the way she did would set him off.  “I’ll give you as many kids as you want.  I’ll give you everything.  We’re gonna raise them here.  They’ll go to Bluewater Beach like we did.”

Whitney almost felt like crying.  They had such an idyllic, pastoral childhood, and she wanted to give that experience to her children, too.  “We’ll put them all in hockey.  We’ll clear space in the basement for all their smelly gear,” she said, making Ryan chuckle.  “We’ll all play street hockey with the neighbours, and on weekends we’ll be in Goderich looking up at all the stars.  In the winter we’ll put on our snowshoes or skates and go out on the frozen lake.  We’ll read them bedtime stories and tuck them into bed together.”

Ryan nodded his head, as if in agreement, as if that’s exactly what he was thinking about and wanted too.  Every single thing Whitney said, he could picture vividly in his mind.  “That’s right.  That’s right.”

“You and me, Snook,” she said to stop from crying. 

“You and me, Whit.”

They continued to make love until Ryan felt close, increasing his pace slightly to get himself there.  Whitney knew – she could feel it in him – and arched her back to get a better angle.  “You close, Snook?”

“Yeah,” he struggled to get out.

“Come inside me, Snook.  I want to feel you.  I want you to make me feel good.”

Ryan came inside her as he always did, her walls tightening around his cock as she went through another orgasm.  He buried his face into the crook of her neck, kissing her skin there until he felt his orgasm fade.  Whitney wrapped her arms around his shoulders before he lowered his body, settling into her side and on the bed as he slipped out of her.  “I love you, Whit.”

She was still catching her breath, but she replied easily.  “I love you too, Snook.”

“I’m gonna give you everything you want.  I’m gonna give you a home, kids.  I’m going to spoil you.  I’m going to take care of you,” he huffed out as he looked at her.

Whitney smiled, cradling his face in her hands.  “I’m going to take care of you, too.”

***

Ryan had packed for the five-and-a-half day road trip to Sunrise, Tampa, and New York City.  He had his suitcase by the door and had called a taxi to take him to the airport.  Whitney had been preparing something for him to eat on the way, even though the team probably had snacks and food waiting for them on the plane.

“Whit!  Taxi will be here in two minutes,” Ryan called out, slipping into a pair of sneakers at the front door.

Whitney emerged from the kitchen, carrying a chickpea tuna sandwich and some carrots in a bag.  She watched as he finished putting his shoes on before handing him the sandwich and carrots.  “Do you have everything you need?” she asked.

“Think so,” he said, putting the sandwich into his jacket pocket.  “I’m gonna miss you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her quickly.

Except it was never just a quick kiss with Ryan and Whitney.  One kiss turned into two turned into three turned into seven.  It was only when Ryan felt the lightest of tears rolling down Whitney’s cheeks did he pull away.  “Hey hey hey, what’s going on?” he asked quickly.

“I’m sorry—I don’t mean to,” she pulled away, too, wiping the tears away quickly with her fingers.  “It’s just a long trip.  I want you here with me is all.”

Ryan cupped her face in his big hands.  “Don’t cry, sweetness.  I won’t be able to go if you’re still crying.  They’ll have to delay the MLSE jet.”

Whitney couldn’t help but chuckle at that, putting her hand over Ryan’s just as she saw the taxi pull up on the curb.  “Go.  Go baby,” she put her hands on his chest.

“Not until you—”

“I’ll be okay, Ryan.  I just can’t wait for you to come home so we can tell everyone.”

“It’ll go by quick, I promise,” he said.  “One more kiss, sweetness.”

She leaned into him and they kissed, except this time, Ryan really didn’t let go.  He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight against his body, his tongue forcing its way in her mouth.  A little noise escaped her mid-kiss, and when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her backed her up against the wall at the entrance, a knee between her thighs, pinning her there.  His big, strong legs were a favourite of hers.  The things she imagined doing to herself on those thighs…the things she had done to herself on those thighs.  It gave her goosebumps to remember.  Their open-mouth kisses were getting hot and heavy, until—

Beeeeep beeeeep!

The taxi honked its horn inconsiderately from outside.  They stopped kissing immediately, looking out the front door panels.  “Go.  You’re going to be late.  I don’t want to be responsible for holding up the MLSE jet.”

“I’ll just blame it on traffic.”

“Go!”

He gave her one last look and (truly) one last kiss before grabbing his suitcase and opening the door.  She stood in the door frame and watched him walk out to the car, putting his suitcase in the trunk after waiving the driver’s offer for help, getting into the backseat.  He waved at her.  She waved back.  Then he was gone down the street, away for five and a half days. 

***

It was a beautiful spring day in southwestern Ontario.  The sun was out, there were only a few clouds in the sky, and although it was still a bit chilly out, it felt like people were finally awakening from their winter hibernation, ready to hit the ground running into spring and summer.  Though Whitney felt like she had new life in her ever since Ryan got to Toronto, she couldn’t help but feel an extra skip in her step at the good weather.

It was the perfect opportunity for her to take a drive. 

To Seaforth.

To St. James Catholic Cemetery.

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.

The grass at the cemetery was still dull, not fully brought to life yet, but that didn’t matter.  With a bouquet of flowers in her hand, Whitney made her way to the site she knew best, the site she could walk to with her eyes closed.  As she stood at the foot of Gareth’s grave, she read the inscription as she always did when she visited.

Gareth James Napier

March 1st, 1991 – June 5th, 2013

Beloved son and friend

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal;

Love leaves a memory no one can steal”

She kneeled, placing the flowers against the tombstone before she brought her hand to her mouth, kissed it, and touched his name engraved.  “Hi Gareth,” she whispered.  “It’s me again.”  She paused momentarily, feeling the wind run through her hair.  “I know you’ve been watching, but I want you to hear it from me.  We’re finally together.  Ryan and I.  It’s official.  We’ve loved each other for a really long time and we finally—something just clicked.  I found out Ryan thought he couldn’t keep his promise to you.  That’s what’s been keeping us apart for so long.  That’s what was holding him back all these years.  You know him.  I mean, you were best friends.  He always set high standards for himself but I think this was the highest.  Can you…Gareth – can you help him realize that he doesn’t need to be scared?  I always regret not telling you what was going on between us.  I think you would have been happy after the initial shock.  Maybe if we had, it wouldn’t have become a secret for ten years.  I’ve always been happy with him.  And now, Gareth…we’re getting married.  I’m gonna become Mrs. O’Reilly.  We’re going to start a family together.  And that’s something I’ve wanted with him all along.  I wanted you to be the first to know.  Before mom and dad and everyone else.  Because he was your best friend.  You were my best friend too…”

Whitney paused.  She tried to reign in her emotion, but there was no use.  Tears began falling from her eyes, sobs coming up in her throat.  That she had to speak to a headstone as opposed to her beloved brother was an injustice of the highest degree.  Nobody deserved this.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  “I miss—I miss—I miss you so much.  I want you here so bad.  So bad, Gareth.  I don’t want to do this without you.  I always think to myself…why was it my brother that had to die?  Why did it have to be Gareth?  What did it have to be him?  It could have been anyone else in the world.  I know that won’t bring you back but it’s so unfair that you were taken from us so early.  You still had so much to do.  You still had so much joy to spread.  I want—I picture you at our wedding, dancing and singing like you always did, being the life of the party.  You were the brightest star in every room and I can’t deal with the fact that you’re not here for this.  I’ll be thinking about you always.  Our kids are going to know how amazing their Uncle Gareth was.  I promise.”

She took some time to compose herself, wiping her tears away with her long sleeves.  “Look over me, Gareth, like you always did.  And look over Ryan too.  I know you always do, but he’s going to need it.  I love you Gareth.  And I miss you more than words can say.  I’ve had a hole in my heart ever since you left us.  I love you.  I love you.”

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.

***

Whitney didn’t know how long she sat at Gareth’s grave for.  She didn’t know how long she felt the wind blow gently through her hair.  She didn’t know how far the sun and clouds moved across the sky.  Everything was a blur, and time wasn’t real.  She didn’t know what time it was when she got up, placed one more kiss on her hand and touched Gareth’s name, and walked back to her car.  She barely even remembered getting into it, starting it, and pulling out of the parking spot to get back on to the main road.  The only reason she knew where she was going was because it was like muscle memory to her.  She’d done this route countless times before – the cemetery to her parents’ house, or the cemetery back into Toronto.  She could have done it with her eyes closed.

She practically was.

As she drove down the country roads to get to the highway, she began thinking even more than before.  Memories flooded her mind.  She kept thinking about her brother.  She kept thinking about how big his smile was and all the goofy faces he’d make to get her to laugh.  She kept thinking of how he would “let” her play Mario Kart with him if she was “good” because she wanted to fit in with him, Ryan, Cal, and Tara.  She kept thinking about the time he broke his ankle playing hockey and made her his personal slave.  She kept thinking about when she went to high school and all her teachers would say, “Whitney Napier?  Are you Gareth Napier’s little sister?  Oh my God, your brother is such a gem!”  She kept thinking about the first time she and Gareth travelled to Colorado together to watch Ryan play and Gareth was crying in the stands at seeing his best friend in the opening lineup of an NHL game.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!

Whitney swerved her car to the right on pure instinct, narrowly escaping a clip collision with an oncoming pickup truck by mere milliseconds.  She screamed at the loud noise, pushing her break and skidding along the road until she came to a full stop that was so forceful her chest nearly hit the steering wheel.  The dust from the sand and rocks at the side of the road came up in the air around the front of the car.  Her chest was heaving up and down as she finally realized what had almost just happened.

She closed her eyes.

She couldn’t believe what she’d just done.  She had become so lost in her own thoughts and memories of the past that she hadn’t been paying attention to the present.  In a vehicle, no less.  It was fine if it was in the privacy of her own house, alone, in bed, at night, whatever it was – but in a vehicle?  She felt so stupid.  So…irresponsible.

She burst into tears.  Loud, ugly wails escaped her as she sobbed alone in her car.  There was nothing she could say that hadn’t already been said, and there was nothing she could say that would make the situation better.  The sadness would be with her always, the pain of not having Gareth with her, with Ryan.  While they had found ultimate happiness in each other, and would feel that happiness for the rest of their lives, Gareth’s memory would always be a part of them, too.  With it brought joy, sadness, jubilation, and hurt.  Whitney heard once that grief was just unexpressed love.  When she watched Fleabag and Fleabag said “I don’t know what to do with it.  With all the love I have.  I don’t know where to put it now”, she felt that more than anything.  It was how she felt about Gareth.

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.

It was only when she stopped crying nearly an hour later, trusting herself to not get too emotional and actually make her way back home safely, did she allow herself to start her car again.  As everything turned on, the radio station played a song: “Dancing in the Moonlight” by Toploader.

Gareth’s favourite song.

***

The Toronto Maple Leafs won their last three games of the season.  Ryan had scored against Tampa, and had taken rookie Matthew Knies under his wing in his dressing room and on his line.  The Leafs were now in playoff mode.  The entire city was buzzing.  Whitney drove out to Pearson Airport to pick him up.  She waited with Bee and Aberdeen, who were bundled up in chunky knitwear and a Leafs hoodie over the top, as if they coordinated their outfits.

Bee hadn’t told anyone what she saw.  Not even Morgan.  It wasn’t her secret to tell, and she didn’t want to be that person.  She wasn’t that person.  She’d been a victim of horrible rumours before, and she wasn’t going to be the person telling everyone.  She wasn’t even sure what she saw, in that she didn’t know what it meant.  Though she could tell the kiss had a lot of feeling and history behind it, she didn’t know what that feeling was, or what that history was either.  However, she did remember back to the first time they spoke, at Whitney’s first game and afterwards at Aberdeen’s surprise birthday party, where a drunken Aberdeen told Bee that she sensed that Ryan and Whitney were definitely not just friends.  If Aberdeen could see it, could others see it too?

When the boys began to file through, Bee made sure to keep a sneaky eye on Whitney.  She greeted Morgan and gave him a kiss and a hug, looking over his shoulder to see Ryan greeting Whitney politely and civilly.  They hugged, but it was quick and nothing special.  Bee heard Whitney ask Ryan if he was tired and Ryan saying yes.

“We’ll see you guys soon, yeah?” Morgan called over his shoulder at them before taking Bee’s hand in his.

“Absolutely,” Ryan nodded.  “Drive safe, bud.”

Their walk to Bee’s Civic was quiet.  She popped the trunk so Morgan could deposit his suitcase.  After he got into the passenger seat and she started the car, Morgan looked over at her.  “I think you’re going to need to order Whitney one of those wag jackets,” he said out of the blue.

Bee whipped her head to look at him.  Her heart was in her throat.  “Why do you say that?”

Morgan sighed, as if he was burdened with the news like a Victorian duchess.  “It was an accident,” he said.  “I was standing beside him as the luggage was coming out.  He was looking at his phone.  I…caught sight of his screen.  Bunch of texts from her.  I caught the word lingerie.  Then the thumbnail of a photo of her in said lingerie.  But I didn’t see anything, I swear.”

Bee was sure she looked like an owl for how wide her eyes were.  Nope.  Not happening.  She was not going to deal with this in the middle of the night.  Not today, Satan.  Not today.  She put the car in reverse.  “Morgan Frederick Rielly, we are not going to gossip about our friends.”

She was also not going to tell Morgan she already ordered a jacket for Whitney.

***

Ryan and Whitney’s drive back home was mostly quiet.  She could tell he was tired from being on the road, and the time that the team got in didn’t help, either.  She made sure to drive as safely as possible, considering what had happened.  She hadn’t told Ryan yet, and she needed to.  God, there were a few things she needed to tell him about what she’d been up to while he was away.  It had been a long five-and-a-half days, made especially longer by her visit to Gareth. 

When they were in the privacy of the house, with everything locked and alarms set, they made their way to their bedroom.  Whitney stood in front of her floor-length mirror to take off her earrings, and she watched through the reflection as Ryan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his body and settling his face in the crook of her neck.  She couldn’t help but smile at the warmth of his body.  He left a trail of kisses on her skin before looking at her through the reflection.  “I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too, Snook.”

“What did you get up to when I was gone?”

“Looked for wedding venues.”

He smiled from ear to ear, chucking lowly and giving her skin another kiss.  “That’s my girl.”

She winced slightly, but Ryan couldn’t tell, because he couldn’t see it yet.  A little souvenir from her recklessness in Seaforth.  “Snook…can we talk?”

“What about?”

She paused.  She knew the second she told him it was going to eat him alive that he wasn’t there.  She almost thought she shouldn’t tell him, but then that meant she wasn’t being honest.  Plus, once he saw her little souvenir, there was no way she could lie.  “You know…you know how I get when I go too far into my head sometimes,” she began.

“Of course, because I get the same way,” he said.  As she continued to stay silent, and only look at him through the mirror, he caught on that this wasn’t going to be a normal conversation.  “What’s wrong?”

She could barely look at him.  She was so ashamed, because she was going to scare and hurt him so much.  “I went to go tell Gareth,” she said, tears already welling in her eyes.  “I went to go tell Gareth and I almost got into an accident.”

“You what?” Ryan asked immediately.  “Whit, what do you mean?  Are you okay?  Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.  I swerved out of the way just in time,” she said.  “I went—I went to St. James to visit Gareth and tell him about us.  I s-spent a lot of t-t-time there just t-t-talking to him, Snook.  And as I was driving b-back home – I was s-still just outside Mitchell – I—I kept thinking about G-G-Gareth and Snook, I don’t know what came over me— b-but all of the s-sudden I hear this loud horn and I’m ab-b-bout to clip this oncoming pickup truck—”

“Oh my fucking God, Whit,” he uttered nervously, spinning her around so they didn’t have to talk through a mirror anymore.  “Did you get hurt?”

She shook her head.  “No,  I swerved out of the way and I just…went on the side of the road and tried to calm down.  I just…” she trailed off, bringing her hands up to pull down the collar of her crew neck, exposing her “souvenir”: a loudly coloured red seat belt abrasion that ran diagonally down her collarbone and chest.  She quite literally heard Ryan’s breath catch in his throat at the sight.  “I already went to my doctor.  It looks bad but it doesn’t hurt too much.  She said it should be gone in two or three weeks.”

Ryan shook his head.  “Oh, Whit,” his voice quivered.  He brought a hand up and lightly, with his fingertips, traced the bruising along her skin.  He had to compose himself.  “Oh, Whit…” his eyes glossed over, the memories of that night in his pickup truck coming back to haunt him.

“Snook, I’m okay, I swear.  That’s not the issue here, anyway,” she tried to get his memory off it.  “I just…I miss him so much.”

Ryan was silent as he could only consider the how and why this happened to Whitney.  He was overcome with emotion at hearing what happened and seeing the abrasion, but what hurt her more was deeper.  “I miss him too, Whit.”

“He would have been your best man, right?” she asked, unable to stop herself from asking, from imagining what their wedding would be like if Gareth was still with them.  “God, can you just imagine what he’d be like at the wedding?  At the reception?  Why can’t I have my brother there, Snook?  Why does he have to be gone?”

“He would have been the life of the party,” Ryan offered, unable to say much else since his own tears were falling now.  “I miss him every day, Whit.  I want him to be with us, too.”

She reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, and he picked her up and brought her to the bed, sitting with her in his lap.  “I want to have him be here for the happiest moment of my life,” she said.

“I know you do.  We all do.”

“That’s why I was so sad.  And that’s why what happened, happened.  And I’m so sorry to scare you or make you worried—but I wanted to talk to him, Snook.  I wanted him to be the first to know.”

“We’re going to get through this,” he assured, nodding his head.  It was only natural that Whitney told Gareth first.  “Before we go to our parents’, I’m gonna see Gareth too.  We’ll go together.”

Whitney nodded her head, smiling slightly.  “That sounds nice.”

He let out a long sigh.  He tried not to think about how rough the stop had been if it left such a mark on Whitney’s skin.  “You’ve gotta be careful, Whit.  I mean it.  I just got you.  I can’t lose you.”

Whitney cupped Ryan’s face in her hands.  “You always had me, Snook.”

“You know what I mean.”

She leaned forward to kiss him quickly.  “I’m so happy you’re home, Snook.  I can’t wait to tell everyone tomorrow.”

Ryan finally smiled again.  “Me too.”

***

It was another beautiful spring day in southwestern Ontario.  The sun was out, there were only a few clouds in the sky, and although it was still a bit chilly out, it felt like people were finally awakening from their winter hibernation, ready to hit the ground running into spring and summer.  It was the perfect opportunity for Ryan and Whitney to take a drive. 

To Seaforth.

To St. James Catholic Cemetery.

With a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, Ryan made his way to the site he knew best, the site she could walk to with his eyes closed.  As he stood at the foot of Gareth’s grave, he kneeled and placed his bouquet delicately next to hers, still there from days previous.  He brought his hand to his lips and kissed it before placing it over Gareth’s engraved name on the headstone. 

“I love your sister, Gareth,” he began.  “I always have.  And the funny thing is, I think you know that.  I think you knew that when you were still here with us.  You never said anything, you never gave me funny looks—I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining it all or looking at it with rose coloured glasses because you’ve been gone for so long, but deep down inside me, I think you knew.  When you—when you were in your casket, the last time I spoke to you before they closed the coffin and I was one of your pallbearers, I told you I was going to take care of Whitney.  I want to think that I have.  She wants me to know I have, even though I made some pretty dumb mistakes along the way.  You—you gotta know that—I—I—” he stuttered out, trying to keep his emotions in check.  “I try my best, Gareth, because she’s my entire world.  She everything to me.  And I know you’re watching, so I just want you to know that I want to make everything right.  No more being scared.  No more waiting.  I’m going to get her a ring, and we’re going to get married, and we’re going to have a family.  And you’ll be part of it.  There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you.  I just hope that on that day, the day that Whitney and I get married, that you’re there too.  Send us a sign, Gareth.  Send us a sign.”

***

James and Alice Napier invited Bonnie and Brian O’Reilly over anyway, so Ryan and Whitney didn’t even have to make two trips.  Because of course James and Alice would invite Brian and Bonnie over.  Hell, Brian and Bonnie were probably already there.  Alice was making frozen margaritas and Bonnie was laughing and saying something about it still being too cold for frozen margaritas when Ryan and Whitney walked through the door.  James was setting the table and Brian was cooking something on the stove.  They even mentioned Tara coming over for dessert (Alice had gotten a chocolate and peanut butter tart).  Ryan and Whitney gave each other a look from across the kitchen at one point, taking it all in.

Over dinner, they discussed the playoffs first.  Ryan was excited to get going with the Leafs, and everybody spoke about his work ethic and how he could help them.  Bonnie reminisced about when he’d skate every waking moment of the day he wasn’t in school at the Seaforth Community Centre with Cal, Owen, and Gareth, with Tara and Whitney in the stands.  James reminisced about driving the kids into Toronto on weeknights to watch Ryan’s GTHL games when he played for the Toronto Jr. Canadiens before getting drafted to the OHL.  Alice would prepare sandwiches as dinner for the road and they’d show up at the arena right on time.  Ryan would always wave to them when he got out onto the ice.  When the game was done, they’d wait for him to get out so they could give him long, warm hugs before piling back into the car and driving home.  Gareth and Whitney would be passed out in the back seat by the time they arrived home.

“There’s something Ryan and I have to talk to you guys about,” Whitney finally said as she played around with the last of the potatoes on her plate.  She looked up, and suddenly, all eyes were on her, before they moved to Ryan, then back to her.

Alice, James, Bonnie, and Brian genuinely looked taken aback.  “Is—is everything okay, honey?” her mom asked.

“It’s fine,” she assured Alice.

“Ryan?” Brian asked his son.

Ryan look one last look at Whitney, smiling slightly, before addressing everyone.  “Everything’s okay, dad,” he said gently.  “It’s just that…since I got to Toronto, Whitney and I have been doing a lot of talking.  And we’ve been doing a lot of talking about…well, us.”

“Okay…” James looked at his daughter, then back at Ryan.  “Us?”

“Us,” Ryan said definitively, nodding his head.  “I…Whitney and I have loved each other for a very long time.  There were a few things that got in the way of us being together that were mainly on me.  I hold myself to a very high standard – you all know that – and this was no different.  I wanted to be able to provide for her, to take care of her, and for years I felt like I couldn’t do that properly after what had happened in 2015,” he explained.

“Oh Ryan…” Bonnie cooed.

“How long is a very long time, dear?” Alice asked her daughter.

Ryan and Whitney agreed in the drive over that they had to be upfront and 100% honest about everything – every question their parents would ask.  “The first time Ryan and I kissed I was sixteen.  But I’d had feelings for him before that, too.  And since then.”

“Wait – so you’re admitting to us that things have been…happening…since then?” Brian asked.

“Yes,” Whitney answered.

“Through Calum and Aaron?” James asked.

“Yes.”

“Through Justine and Kayla?” Bonnie asked.

“Yes,” Ryan nodded.

“We’ve loved each other for a very, very long time,” Whitney reiterated, her heart beating in her chest as the moment came.  “Ryan and I have had a long talk and we don’t want to waste any more time.  Mom, dad, Bonnie, Brian – Ryan and I are going to get married this summer.”

There was a pause of silence.  “Married?” James asked Whitney.

“Married,” she was firm.

“Married?” James asked Ryan.

“Married,” he was firm.

The four parents shrieked out loud.  Whitney couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions – same with Ryan.  Alice even stood up from her seat and rushed over to Whitney, engulfing her in a hug.  “Oh my God oh my God oh my God!” Alice was overwhelmed with emotion as she hugged her daughter.  “I’m so so so happy!  I can’t believe it!”

“This is a lot of information to get all at once!” Bonnie joked, a huge smile on her face as she got up from her chair, too.  “You’re getting married!  You’re getting married!” she yelled as she hugged her son.

“This is the best news, kids,” Brian couldn’t hold back his emotion as he hugged them both.  “Oh goodness, this is – this is just magical.”

Ryan and Whitney could breathe a sigh of relief.  Truthfully, they thought there would be a lot more questions.  Perhaps even some “You cheated on people?” questions or more questions about how long and how far this had already gone.  But apparently not.  Maybe they always knew?  Maybe this was something their parents had been waiting for and they were just too nice to say it out loud.  Maybe their parents had seen it all those years ago and were just waiting for the news. 

In any case, the night turned into a celebration.  Brian rushed out to get some champagne.  When he came back, Tara, her husband, and their four kids were walking through the door with him.  When Tara asked what necessitated champagne, Ryan and Whitney told her the news.  She shrieked too.  They FaceTimed with Owen and his wife Bernadette, and then with Cal and Terra, and then with Shannon.

There was an almost overwhelming amount of joy.

Before they left, Alice brought Ryan and Whitney up to hers and James’s bedroom.  She dug into the back of her closet and retrieved an old cookie tin, opening it in front of them.  “I would have given this to your earlier if I had known,” she said, rummaging through the contents inside.

“What is it, mom?” Whitney asked.

“Ah!” she said, finding the small pouch she was looking for.  “This was your great grandmother’s – from Scotland, when she got married in the 1920s,” she said, handling the pouch delicately as she took out a plain gold band.

Whitney had never seen it before in her life.  Her jaw dropped as her mom held it up between her fingers.  “Oh my God, mom,” she gasped.

“She gave it to me when we met her in North Berwick on our family trip.  She thought you were just so darling when she saw you, so beautiful and so kind and the best type of Gray woman, and she wanted you to have it, my baby.”

“What?  Are you serious?”

“Mhmm,” Alice nodded her head.  “It’s too big for your dainty fingers,” she half-joked, “but what I was thinking is, you can melt it down into something that fits, and any extra can be used for the prongs—”

“Or it could be put into my ring too,” Ryan said lightly.  “Whit’s not just becoming an O’Reilly.  I’m becoming a member of your family too.”

Whitney and Alice smiled at the thought.  “You two can do with it what you see fit,” she said, placing it back in its pouch.  As she handed it to Whitney, Alice smiled.  “One day, maybe you’ll be able to give it to your daughter too.”

In that moment it was Whitney’s only hope.

***

When Whitney and Ryan stepped foot into their house in Goderich, they were still on a sort of high from the events of hours prior.  They weren’t jumping off the walls, but they were buzzing.  It was getting later in the day, but they didn’t feel tired at all.  They couldn’t stop smiling.  They couldn’t sit or stand still. 

“That went surprisingly well,” Whitney couldn’t help but giggle out slightly, looking at Ryan. 

“You think?” he joked.  “My mom was already talking about taking all my old clothes out of storage and washing them.”

Whitney smiled, thinking back to all the clothes her mom kept too.  Now the clothes would definitely be retro and very 90s, but she was sure there were some nice vintage sweaters in those boxes – specifically old Leafs sweaters or anything knit that grandparents made.  “It would be cool to see, though.  I had this one sweater with Belle on it from Beauty and the Beast that I loved.  I wonder if she still has it or if I wore it out from wearing it so much.”

“Oh my God, you were obsessed with that movie,” Ryan smiled.  “I remember having to put it in the VCR for you all the time.  You used to sing along with all the songs but with the wrong words.”

“Well thank God I got better at singing, hmm?” she asked.

“Oh yeah.  I love listening to you sing over Taylor Swift in the car.”

“Hey!” she snapped playfully.  “I’m good!  I’m on tune!  And I know all the words!”

Ryan was smiling with his eyes.  She knew he loved her singing, even if he screamed over it in jest when she did.  This was the man who learned Taylor Swift songs for her on his guitar just because she wanted him to.  “Go get comfy on the couch.  I’ll be there in a sec.”

Whitney just assumed that Ryan would go to the washroom or something.  But when he came back into the family room carrying one of his guitars he took off the wall in their bedroom, Whitney found herself smiling from ear to ear.  “Ryyyy,” she cooed.

He sunk into the couch, sitting upright with his legs outstretched.  “Come sit like you always do,” he began to say, but before he even finished the sentence, Whitney was moving to sit where she always would when he played guitar like this, their legs entwined.  Far enough to watch him strum, close enough to lean in for a kiss.  The perfect position.  “What do you want me to play?”

“Whatever you want.”

“You don’t have a request?” he played a few quiet precautionary strums.

Whitney shook her head.  “You haven’t played in so long because of your finger.  I’ll enjoy anything.”

Ryan thought for a few moments, strumming absent-mindedly before leaving the sound of the strings to fade out.  Then he began to play some familiar chords – it took a few moments for Whitney to realize what song it was, but when she did, she couldn’t help but smile. 

Oh darlin’ I feel your pain

And the summer rain in your eyes

Trying so hard to put the blue

Back into your sky

It was “The Plan” by Matt Mays and El Torpedo – one of the bands that they’d listen to whenever driving the country roads, especially those on the way to the beach.  And he’d chosen the song he’d sing to her when they’d call each other and she would cry over the phone about missing him while he was in Colorado. 

Oh darlin’ I’ve been dreamin’ of you

Have you been praying for me?

As I cast my mind and soul to the sea

I’ve got a plan that’ll get you through

Whitney hummed along as Ryan sang to her, shivers running up her spine as they locked eyes and he sang “Cause for me it all comes down to you” to her.  Her hand squeezed his calf gently, her eyes welling with tears slightly at the tender moment.  He’d sung to her numerous times before – over FaceTime, at campfires, when they were the only ones left standing at 4am after his Stanley Cup party – but this was extra special.  Snook was hers now, and she got to look forward to this for the rest of her life.

When Ryan finished singing, he noticed the welling in her eyes.  Before he could mention it, Whitney spoke first.  “Do you think it was always meant to be us, Snook?”

“Yes,” he nodded automatically.  “It’s always been you, beautiful.”

“I love you so damn much.  And after this past week, there’s just been so much more.  Sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.”

Ryan leaned forward, placing a kiss on her lips.  “Soon, you’ll be able to put it into our marriage,” he said, causing her to smile.  “We’ve love each other since we were kids and we still have so much love to give.  Isn’t that amazing?”

Whitney nodded.  “The most amazing thing.”

He leaned forward and kissed her one more time.  “Can I keep singing to you?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

***

Ryan and Whitney made it back into Toronto on Saturday morning just in time to make their 11:30 brunch reservations at United Bakers Dairy Restaurant in North York with Morgan and Bee.  Whitney had probably become closest with her in her short time of knowing the other partners – they got along well and had the same opinions on so many things.  And while Whitney was also close to Aberdeen and Aryne, she and Bee were only days apart – Whitney felt a special connection with her for some reason.  She had an inkling that they would be lifelong friends.

Morgan and Bee waved them down from the booth the moment they saw Ryan and Whitney waiting at the front.  After making their way through their restaurant and greeting each other with hugs, they sat in the booth together.  Coffee was poured.  Orders were taken.  Bagels were chosen.  Whitney was excited for her lox and cream cheese platter.

“This is for you,” Bee said as she handed an envelope towards Whitney.  “It’s an invitation for our wedding this summer.  We’re really hoping you’ll be able to attend.”

Whitney opened it immediately.  It would probably give her some inspiration for her own.  “Oh my goodness!  Of course we’ll come,” she said, showing it to Ryan too.  “Look how pretty.  Oooooh, it’s at the King Eddie?  How divine.”

“I know, right?  We were so lucky we booked early.  Now it’s fully booked something like 18 months in advance.”

Ryan smiled, turning his head to look at Whitney.  “Fully booked for 18 months?  Looks like we can’t have our wedding there, then.”

Everything stopped.  Whitney was grinning at Ryan like the Cheshire cat.  She looked towards Morgan and Bee and saw them giving confused, dead stares.  “Um, excuse me?” Morgan asked.

“Wait, what?” Bee added.

Whitney smiled at her.  “We’ve been hiding something from everybody,” she said.  “Snook and I are getting married.”

Bee shrieked, her hands coming up to cover her dropped jaw.  A few people from surrounding booths eyed them, but only momentarily.  Morgan didn’t even bother covering his jaw drop.  “Come again?!” he demanded.

Ryan and Whitney couldn’t help but giggle.  “It’s a long story, but, well…Whitney and I have loved each other since we were kids, and about a week ago, we decided to stop being stupid about it all and just get married, which, deep down, is what we’ve both wanted all along.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeep!” Bee shrieked, clapping excitedly at the news.  “Married!  You’re getting married!  God, you’re both lucky that we’re having brunch because I’m going to need to know the whole story and all its details!” she exclaimed to everyone’s laughter.  “And your ring!  Where’s your ring!”

“That’s for this afternoon,” Ryan chimed in.  “I’ve already called my guy.”

Morgan nudged Bee slightly.  “You should give Whitney her gift.  It all works out.”

Whitney’s brows furrowed.  “Gift?  What gift?”

Bee reached for something beneath the table.  “Listen, I didn’t want to overstep my boundary or anything, but I knew that I had to include you in this or else I’d live to regret it,” she began.  Bee wasn’t going to tell Whitney about Aberdeen having a feeling from the very beginning that they were more than friends, or how she saw her and Ryan kiss against their car that one night after the game.  “It would have felt wrong not to give you one since you’ve joined us, and especially since we’ve gotten so close.”

Bee handed over a folded up jacket from across the table.  Whitney immediately knew what it was.  “My very first jacket,” she smiled, noticing the ribbing, the vintage font, and of course the 90 on the sleeve.  She unfolded it, getting a good look at it before looking over at Ryan.  “My first one.”

“Get used to it.  You’re going to be wearing it for a while starting Tuesday.”

***

Ryan and Whitney went to the jeweler but Ryan didn’t let Whitney see the diamond.  “I want at least something to be a surprise,” he said, and Whitney was anxious but acquiesced.  They chose their wedding bands to be prepared for the summer.  Her finger was measured and her great-grandmother’s ring given to the jeweler to melt down and craft the engagement ring.  “This will be rushed, Mr. O’Reilly, for you only.  But the craftsmanship – I guarantee you that I will be taking of it, and it will not suffer.  Everything else will be put on hold to get this done for Wednesday.”

When they got back home, there was no reason to wait.  They climbed up to their bedroom and began kissing each other fervently, the wait of the day just acting as a slight form of torture.  With the playoffs beginning on Tuesday, Whitney knew Ryan would be mentally preparing.  And she, for her part, had to plan a wedding that would happen in only a few months.  This would, at least, be a little moment to themselves before things became hectic. 

Ryan dragged his hands all over her body but paid particular attention to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them through the fabric of her top.  He imagined that in a few short months, he would be doing this exact same thing except Whitney would be in her wedding dress.  And if they had their way, just a few short months after that, her belly would start to swell because they’d be having a baby.  His brain rushed through the possibilities of what their family would look like.  “Take this off,” he huffed.

He helped her pull it over her head, discarding it absent-mindedly somewhere on the floor.  He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his torso, barely stopping her kissing.  When she felt herself being dropped onto the bed, she began tugging on his shirt, too.  “Off.  Off.”

It came off within seconds.  Her favourite part of Ryan (that was a lie – all of Ryan was her favourite part of him) was on full display for her.  Ryan stopped momentarily to see the red streak that still appeared on her skin from the seatbelt.  Whitney was wise enough to wear high-cut tops in front of their parents and Morgan and Bee so no questions were asked and no emotions ran high.  But when he saw it again, he couldn’t help the aching feeling in his heart.  He dipped his head down and began leaving light kisses along it, as if they would cure her, as if with every kiss, a patch of redness would disappear.  “It’ll be gone soon, Snook…” she could only breath out.

“I know.  It just hurts to see,” he whispered.  “Do you remember your promise to me?”

She nodded her head.  “Do you remember your promise to me?”

He nodded too.  “Of course.”

She kissed him.  “In a couple months, you’ll be doing this to me in my wedding dress,” she said.

Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Funny you say that, because I was just thinking the same thing.”

“And then after that,” she continued, giving him another kiss, “we’ll be going at it even more than we do now, because you’re gonna fuck a baby into me.”  She got so turned on by the grunt he let out at the words as she kissed him again, her kisses becoming more frantic.  “Isn’t that right, Snook?”

“Fuck yes,” he barely let out.

“I can’t wait to feel my body swell with your baby.  You’re going to fill me full of your hot cum over and over.  We’re gonna have a big family like we both had.  Will you be excited to fill my pussy?  To see me pregnant with your babies?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes,” his own voice was frantic now, the thought of what she was saying turning him on.  She cupped his crotch and could feel his growing member being restrained in his pants.  She fiddled with his belt, trying to set him free.  He pulled off her leggings easily, and helped her snake the belt around the loops before throwing it on the floor and undoing the zipper himself.

“I want you to fuck me, Ry,” she breathed out, switching his nickname, grabbing onto his biceps and sinking her nails into them.  “I need it.”

“Yeah?  You want me to fuck you?” he asked.  She gulped as she nodded her head.  She felt him push her body and flip it over in an instant.  “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

Whitney did as she was told.  Easily.  She got on her hands and knees for Ryan, looking behind her to see him practically tearing off his pants.  She arched her back to give him a better view.  “You like what you see?”

“Fuckin’ right,” he growled.

She looked over her shoulder, tossing her hair dramatically for effect.  “Just for you, Ry,” she winked.  “This is aaalllll for you.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the tone of voice she was using, and the thing she did with her hair that she knew would drive him wild.  “You know just what to say and do to get me aaalllll riled up, don’t you?” he asked, mimicking her voice and the way she said the word.

“I’ve had a little bit of practice,” she said sarcastically.

Ryan grabbed her hips, pulling her body towards his before one hand went back to stroke his cock.  His other hand began playing with her pussy, teasing her lips and making her mewl.  “You like me teasing your pussy like that?” he asked.

“Yes Ry,” he watched as she nodded, watching as she moved her body in sync with his strokes for maximum effect.  “But I love your cock inside me more.  Any way you give it to me.  Because it was made for my pussy.”

He made sure to tease her entrance with his cock, gliding it up and down her pussy slowly before finally pushing it in.  Whitney gasped at the feeling, letting out a moan.  When he was fully inside her, he grabbed her hair and brought her up so her back was flush against his chest.  He moved some hair away from her ear so he could whisper.  “On Wednesday, after we get back from the jeweler, I’m going to bring you back here and fuck you while you wear nothing but that ring.”

Whitney smiled at the proposition.  “Sounds perfect,” she said.  “I’m looking forward to it.  The first thing that signifies I’m becoming Mrs. Whitney O’Reilly.”

It was the first time either of them had said what would be her new name out loud.  Whitney O’Reilly.  It had a beautiful ring to it.  Ryan found himself repeating it over and over in his head.  Whitney O’Reilly.  Whitney O’Reilly.  Whitney O’Reilly.  “That’s right,” he whispered again.  “The perfect ring for the most perfect girl.”

“I’ll be sure to send you some pictures of me wearing it with that pretty pink set that you like,” she continued.  “You know, the one with the garter belt?  The thigh highs with the lace?  Maybe I’ll even send ones wearing just your jersey.  I know how much you enjoyed those the last time.  You can look at them while you’re alone in your hotel room in Tampa and my pussy is empty and waiting for your cum to fill it up.”

Ryan let out a grunt at the thought.  “Because I’m the only one that gets to come in your pussy.”

“That’s right, baby.”

“You gonna take my cock like a good girl?”

“Mhmmm,” she nodded, biting her lip in excitement.

He pushed her back down onto the bed, holding her down as her ass and hips were up, waiting for him to move.  He didn’t take it slowly after their discussion; instead, he began thrusting into her so deep that he could see her grab the sheets and her knuckles get white.  She didn’t take it quietly, either, screaming his name over and over between moans and sighs.  “Oooooh fuck, Ry, it’s so deep—”

“—Take it, take it—”

“Harder, Ry.  I want it deeper.”

Ryan grabbed hold of her hips and put as much force into it as he could without hurting her.  She got louder, and he could feel her come for the first time shortly after.  Her body began to flush red, the walls of her hot pussy squeezing around his cock.  Her legs were so shaky she even lowered slightly, though Ryan made sure to pull her hips up quickly after.  He slapped her ass, causing her to yelp in unexpected excitement.  “Keep your ass up, sweetness.”

“Yes Ry,” she barely nodded.  “I want more.”

He spanked her again.  “Like that?”

Her knuckles got white from clutching the sheets again.  “Just like that.”

He spanked her again.  “I want you to count how many times I make you come.  Understood?”

“Yes.  I promise.”

Ryan continued to fuck her; continued to feel her orgasms rush throughout her body as they built up sweat from the pace and how long they were lasting.  After God knows how long, Ryan wanted more.  He grabbed a handful of Whitney’s hair and yanked her up so her back was flush against his chest again.  He combed her hair off her sweaty forehead with his fingers before placing his hand at the base of her neck.  “You okay, Whit?” he whispered tenderly in her ear.

She nodded.  “It’s a lot, but it feels so good,” she said.  “I—I can take one more.”

He felt a shiver run up his spine.  Once he knew she was okay, he knew what he wanted to do, what he needed to do, to give her what she wanted.  “Look at me.”  She craned her neck to do so.  One hand had stayed at the base of her neck, but the other came up to her face.  “Open your mouth, sweetness.”

She inhaled sharply, so fucking turned on, before doing what she was told.  He stuck his fingers in her mouth and her lips closed around them, her tongue swirling to get them wet.  When he took them out, he still kept them close.  “Spit.”

She spit on his fingers, and watched with heightened anticipation as they lowered further down until they finally fixated directly onto her clit.  “Holy shit, Ry.”

“Give me one more like a good girl and then you can get my cum in your hot pussy,” Ryan said.  “Okay?”

“Yes baby, yes.”

Holding her body up with one arm, rubbing her clit with his other hand, and using his body to fuck her senseless, Ryan could feel his orgasm building as Whitney got louder and louder.  He watched as she closed her eyes shut, watched as she threw her head back into him, watched as her body began to shake as one hand clasped at his hand on her neck.  “Ry—Ry—fill me—”

“—Come for me, sweetness—”

“—Fill me up with your cum, Ry.”

He finally exploded inside of her, her entire body trembling at the feeling of her orgasm spreading throughout her entire body as she screamed and cried out in pleasure.  He had to hold her up in his arms or else she would have completely collapsed onto the bed, but he was so close to doing so himself, too.  Instead, he leaned back slightly, allowing her body to lean back and almost collapse into his.  Their breaths were hoarse, their bodies still trembling, his cock still inside her.

He felt around her pussy and the insides of her thighs and they were so slick, so wet.  He placed a gentle kiss on her temple.  “How many?” he asked.

A small, tired smile crept onto her face.  She had been so thoroughly fucked she couldn’t think straight.  “Lucky number seven.  At least.”

“At least?”

“It gets blurry sometimes,” she tried to explain in as few words as possible.  “You know what you can do to me.”

Ryan couldn’t help but smile.  “You want to keep my cock in you as we lie here?”

Whitney nodded.  “Don’t you dare take it out.”

***

Later that night, Whitney tried on her new jacket.  It fit easily enough, and she took a mirror selfie for Bee to show her.  After she took the photo, Ryan walked into the room.  “Playoff ready?” he asked, looking at her through the mirror. 

“You bet,” she nodded.  “Are you ready?”

Ryan nodded too.  “I’m ready.”

[st-louis]

hockey central talks nick suzuki

jeff marek: i think you have someone on that roster who's only twenty one years old and already looks like a mini patrice bergeron. and that's nick suzuki. i think that guy has superstar written all over him, and i don't want to downplay the contributions that max pacioretty has made to the vegas golden knights. this is a team that found lightning in a bottle and said we're going for it, we can't wait for our green bananas to ripen here, we need to trade picks and prospects, whatever it takes, our owner wants the stanley cup now.

and it cost them nick suzuki.

but i think that one day when we look back at that trade, we are going to say, how? how did they get nick suzuki away from the vegas golden knights? that to me is going to be one of the crowning achievements for the montreal canadiens and marc bergevin. and you'll say that is a signature trade, like that's one you put up at the top of the resume--

[?]: you know, he was drafted five years ago today?

marek: oh was it five years ago today?

[?]: five years ago today, vegas drafted him.

marek: [sighs] that's right, that's when they had the three first round picks. it was glass, suzuki, and brannstrom. and they traded two of the three. but it was go for it time, right? i don't know, i just, every time he's on the ice, everything around him just screams pro and it always has, since i first saw him play with the london junior knights before he made it to the nhl. there are some guys who are just mature beyond well beyond their years, when they're like fourteen, fifteen years old, and they grow up to be accomplished, polished hockey players, by the time they're twenty-one. 

man, that's nick suzuki.

like, the guy wants to be patrice bergeon. the guy wants to be ryan o'reilly. and he's becoming that right before our eyes

i cheer for players more than i cheer for teams, man, do i cheer for nick suzuki. i got all the time in the world for that guy. you guys have a thought about #14?

justin bourne: looking at this montreal team and writing a little bit about them today, i was putting together, how you win when you don't have superstars in the nhl. when you're a team that is, to stewie's point about them not having a top 20 center in the league and not having a top 20 point getter . . . . you know, they don't have those guys. but what you have is guys like suzuki who's reliable. they're on the right side of the pile, when there's a puck battle, they're erring on the defensive side of things and looking for those opportunities. so you have a team, there's not a lot of cracks, there's not a lot of weak links in the chain. it's just, he's such a complete player at such a young age, that with a little bit of brawn and old man strength, you're right, he could be one of the better two-way centers in hockey.

[?]: yeah but that's development. no one really is drafted, especially in the first round as a two-way guy. that's development, that's something within your network and the development of your organization. you gotta give some of the other teams credit, when you're using a first round pick, you're hoping they turn into a patrick kane or turn into an auston matthews. so suzuki, they didn't know he was going to be this good right away. so you can't really say ah, vegas, they thought he was going to be a dud they threw him away they were going for it they made a good trade, it just so happens, and that's how the draft works, it's a bit of a crapshoot he just happened to develop and turn into a really really good two way forward.

marek: he was like this, though, in owen sound.

[?]: 45 goals?

marek: what's that?

[?]: i was scoring 35 goals and i didn't care about defense. can you imagine scoring 45 goals? come on.

[?]: maybe it's just because he wore 37 when he played for owen sound. he just looked at him and he goes that guy on owen sound there, the guy who really stands out, the guy we can't stop watching, the one who seems to be on the ice every single time, oh yeah, he wears 37, maybe that's why he reminds us of patrice bergeron. but just knowing the kid's background, that's who he wants to be. 

like, he got hot . . . . there was a player on the providence bruins--this is how much of a fanatic, okay, he is about patrice bergeron--so, there is, what's the kid's name, he also played with him in owen sound and he was wearing number 37 for bergeron as suzuki is playing with montreal, and he got hot at the guy--like, you can't wear 37, you're not allowed to wear 37.

[?]: that's his own 99 is it?

marek: that's like his 99, well, with boston, was his main point.

[?]: but that's development as well jeff, you look who his coaches were in junior his last year when he got traded to guelph he had george--

marek: brady lyle! that's it, brady lyle! brady lyle's wearing 37 for providence, and suzuki got hot about it, saying no one with that color scheme in that organization should wear number 37 except for patrice bergeron. that's nick suzuki.

[?]: yeah man, he's the real deal.

marek: he's intense! he's intense about bergeon, man.

[gabrielsirishlitblog]

10 novels by Irish authors:

The Spinning Heart (Donal Ryan)

In the aftermath of Ireland's financial collapse, dangerous tensions surface in an Irish town. As violence flares, the characters face a battle between public persona and inner desires. Through a chorus of unique voices, each struggling to tell their own kind of truth, a single authentic tale unfolds. (goodreads.com)

Smile (Roddy Doyle)

Just moved into a new apartment, alone for the first time in years, Victor Forde goes every evening to Donnelly’s pub for a pint, a slow one. One evening his drink is interrupted. A man in shorts and pink shirt brings over his pint and sits down. He seems to know Victor’s name and to remember him from school. Says his name is Fitzpatrick.

Victor dislikes him on sight, dislikes too the memories that Fitzpatrick stirs up of five years being taught by the Christian Brothers. He prompts other memories too – of Rachel, his beautiful wife who became a celebrity, and of Victor’s own small claim to fame, as the man who says the unsayable on the radio. But it’s the memories of school, and of one particular Brother, that he cannot control and which eventually threaten to destroy his sanity. (goodreads.com)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (James Joyce)

The portrayal of Stephen Dedalus's Dublin childhood and youth, his quest for identity through art and his gradual emancipation from the claims of family, religion and Ireland itself, is also an oblique self-portrait of the young James Joyce and a universal testament to the artist's 'eternal imagination'. Both an insight into Joyce's life and childhood, and a unique work of modernist fiction, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is a novel of sexual awakening, religious rebellion and the essential search for voice and meaning that every nascent artist must face in order to blossom fully into themselves. (goodreads.com)

An Irish Country Village (Patrick Taylor)

Young Doctor Barry Laverty has only just begun his assistantship under his eccentric mentor, Dr. Fingal Flahertie O'Reilly, but he already feels right at home in Ballybucklebo. When the sudden death of a patient casts a cloud over Barry's reputation, his chances of establishing himself in the village are endangered, especially since the grieving widow is threatening a lawsuit.

While he anxiously waits for the postmortem results that he prays will exonerate him, Barry must regain the trust of the gossipy Ulster village, one patient at a time. From a put-upon shop girl with a mysterious rash to the troubled pregnancy of a winsome young lass who's not quite married yet, Ballybucklebo provides plenty of cases to keep the two country G.P.s busy.

Not all their challenges are medical in nature. When a greedy developer sets his sights on the very heart of the community, the village pub, it's up to the doctors to save the Black Swan (affectionately known to the locals as the "Mucky Duck") from being turned into an overpriced tourist trap. After all, the good citizens of Ballybucklebo need some place to drink to each other's health. . . . (goodreads.com)

Dubliners (James Joyce)

This work of art reflects life in Ireland at the turn of the last century, and by rejecting euphemism, reveals to the Irish their unromantic realities. Each of the 15 stories offers glimpses into the lives of ordinary Dubliners, and collectively they paint a portrait of a nation. (goodreads.com)

Dracula (Bram Stocker)

When Jonathan Harker visits Transylvania to help Count Dracula with the purchase of a London house, he makes a series of horrific discoveries about his client. Soon afterwards, various bizarre incidents unfold in England: an apparently unmanned ship is wrecked off the coast of Whitby; a young woman discovers strange puncture marks on her neck; and the inmate of a lunatic asylum raves about the 'Master' and his imminent arrival. (goodreads.com)

All We Shall Know (Donal Ryan)

‘Martin Toppy is the son of a famous Traveller and the father of my unborn child. He’s seventeen, I'm thirty-three. I was his teacher. I’d have killed myself by now if I was brave enough. I don’t think it would hurt the baby. His little heart would stop with mine. He wouldn't feel himself leaving one world of darkness for another, his spirit untangling itself from me.’

Melody Shee is alone and in trouble. Her husband doesn't take her news too well. She doesn't want to tell her father yet because he’s a good man and this could break him. She’s trying to stay in the moment, but the future is looming – larger by the day – while the past won’t let her go. What she did to Breedie Flynn all those years ago still haunts her.

It’s a good thing that she meets Mary Crothery when she does. Mary is a young Traveller woman, and she knows more about Melody than she lets on. She might just save Melody’s life. (goodreads.com)

An Irish Country Doctor (Patrick Taylor)

Barry Laverty, M.B., can barely find the Northern Ireland village of Ballybucklebo on a map when he first sets out to seek gainful employment there. But Barry jumps at the chance to secure a position as an assistant in a small rural practice.

At least until he meets Dr. Fingal Flahertie O'Reilly.

The older physician has his own way of doing things. At first, Barry can't decide if the pugnacious O'Reilly is the biggest charlatan he has ever met or the best teacher he could ever hope for. Through O'Reilly, Barry soon gets to know all of the village's colourful and endearing residents and a host of other eccentric characters who make every day an education for the inexperienced young doctor.

Ballybucklebo is a long way from Belfast, and Barry is quick to discover that he still has a lot to learn about country life. But with pluck and compassion, and only the slightest touch of blarney, he will find out more about life--and love--than he ever imagined back in medical school. (goodreads.com)

When All Is Said (Anne Griffin)

If you had to pick five people to sum up your life, who would they be? If you were to raise a glass to each of them, what would you say? And what would you learn about yourself, when all is said and done?

This is the story of Maurice Hannigan, who, over the course of a Saturday night in June, orders five different drinks at the Rainford House Hotel. With each he toasts a person vital to him: his doomed older brother, his troubled sister-in-law, his daughter of fifteen minutes, his son far off in America, and his late, lamented wife. And through these people, the ones who left him behind, he tells the story of his own life, with all its regrets and feuds, loves and triumphs. (goodreads.com)

A Star Called Henry

Born at the beginning of the twentieth century, Henry Smart lives through the evolution of modern Ireland, and in this extraordinary novel he brilliantly tells his story. From his own birth and childhood on the streets of Dublin to his role as soldier (and lover) in the Irish Rebellion, Henry recounts his early years of reckless heroism and adventure. At once an epic, a love story, and a portrait of Irish history, A Star Called Henry is a grand picaresque novel brimming with both poignant moments and comic ones, and told in a voice that is both quintessentially Irish and inimitably Roddy Doyle's. (goodreads.com)

[sixstringnation]

Since today's series is about the MV Christmas Seal floating clinic of Twillingate and we've not yet managed to make it to Twillingate, I'm digging into a few of our other encounters with Newfoundland & Labrador legends.⁠ ⁠ The man seated in this photo is indeed one of them himself: Sandy Morris, a musician who's been at the heart of the Newfoundland folk renaissance since it started in the 1970s. He was part of the finale performance with Jean Hewson that I mentioned in the last post and played Voyageur solo on that festival main stage as well. ⁠ ⁠ But this photo is also significant for the presence of another legendary figure. We were doing a show at the (also legendary) Ship Inn in St. John's that Sandy was part of. He asked if it would be OK if he took a picture holding a portrait of his friend Dermot O'Reilly. O'Reilly was the Irish-born musician who co-founded the bands the Sons of Erin, Sullivan's Gypsies and Ryan's Fancy. He settled in Torbay Newfoundland and became a producer, mentor, TV producer, storyteller and chronicler of Newfoundland songs and stories. Sandy told me Dermot had wanted to meet Voyageur but had died at 64 just a few months before our visit for the #newfoundlandlabradorfolkfestival - The small box on Sandy's knee contains some of Dermot's ashes. I'm sorry that's as close as we got because I would love to have met him and put Voyageur in his hands but I'm really grateful that Sandy gave us at least this opportunity.⁠ ⁠ Find out more about the Six String Nation project and presentation at https://www.sixstringnation.com⁠ ⁠ .⁠ .⁠ .⁠ .⁠ .⁠ .⁠ .⁠ #newfoundland #newfoundlandhistory #ExploreNL #CanadianHistory #CanEd #CanadianMusic #SocialStudies #medicalhistory #nauticalhistory #tuberculosis #christmasseal #petertroake #CanadianGuitar #acousticguitar #CanadianTeachers #K12 #TRC #keynotespeaker #CdnEd #newfoundlandlabradorfolkfestival #VoiceEd #imaginED #sixstringnation #6SN #healthcareheroes #newfoundlandmusic #ryansfancy via Instagram https://instagr.am/p/B_ShJqhlEM3/

[katsbookcornerreads]

Hello Fabulous! Here is the cover reveal for a dark and lovely Daddy Dom anthology I'm in. Daughter #13 is included (Hint: Keep your eyes out bc in a few weeks I will be doing a very limited ARC for this story!) DAUGHTER #13 Taken and held captive, Devon is branded as Daughter #13, part of Father's collection. There is a reason behind all the punishments and training, but Father isn't telling. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭. 25 ALL-NEW steamy daddy dom romances for only $.99! Preorder today and tell your friends! Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07G86Y2DG/ Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=4nVnDwAAQBAJ Kobo: coming soon iBooks: coming soon Nook: coming soon Release Date: September 18th 𝐷𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑦’𝑠 𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 is a collection of decadently dirty daddy dom romances from some of the hottest authors in the genre. This deliciously naughty box set includes twenty-five brand-new, stand-alone novellas featuring steaming hot, irresistibly sexy adventures with the baddest daddies imaginable. Good girls be warned: your obedience will be demanded on September 18th. 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬: Madison Faye, Renee Rose, Loki Renard, Maggie Ryan, Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley, Lee Savino, J.L. Beck, Jane Henry, Isabella Laase, Kelly Dawson, Sara Fields, Kara Kelley, Measha Stone, Amelia Smarts, Mary Wehr, Maddie Taylor, Meredith O'Reilly, Morganna Williams, Katherine Deane, Alexis Alvarez, Shelly Douglas, Sassa Daniels, Marlee Wray, and Rory Reynolds 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: The stories featured in this collection all contain hot, dirty sex, sometimes involving ménage or reverse harem themes. Some include spankings, intense and humiliating punishments, and strong D/s themes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this box set.