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777bae · 2 months ago

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IN EVERY TOUCH WILLIAM EKLUND

Summary :: You and William are wrapped up in a love that doesn’t need to be spoken. His every touch, glance, and quiet confession speaks volumes, and you feel it in every moment. He doesn’t care who notices, he just wants you to know—you are his world, and he’s completely all in. (REQUESTED :: loverboy)

Warnings :: kissing, a little bit of making out

Word count :: 7.0k

You can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened—when he went from a shy, almost uncertain admirer to someone who was so clearly, so unapologetically, down bad for you. But somewhere between those stolen glances in crowded rooms, when his eyes would find yours across the space and linger for just a beat too long, and the tentative, almost hesitant touches that sent electricity through your skin, you realized something had shifted. He wasn’t just interested in you anymore. He was completely wrapped up in you, tangled in your presence, and there was no turning back. It wasn’t something he could just shrug off or pretend wasn’t happening. No, this was deeper, permanent, something that had taken root in him. And you could feel it in every look he gave you.

Every time your eyes met, you saw it. It was in the way his gaze softened, how it held yours a fraction of a second longer than usual, like he couldn’t tear himself away, like he was drawn to you by some invisible force he had no interest in fighting. He was captivated, and it was painfully obvious. When you were near him, the world seemed to fall away—his focus, his attention, his entire being, all fixated on you. It didn’t matter who was around, who was watching; nothing else existed except for the two of you in that moment. And somewhere along the way, he stopped trying to hide it. He stopped second-guessing himself, stopped worrying about what others might think. It was as though the weight of his feelings had finally spilled out of him, and it felt too good to try to hold it back anymore. You were his, and that was all that mattered.

He was never really shy about how he felt about you, but now it was something different. The whole world could see it. It wasn’t just in the way his eyes would quietly seek you out in a crowd, scanning the room for your familiar presence, even in the most hectic of spaces. It wasn’t just the way he’d catch your gaze and flash you that soft smile of his, one that was so full of warmth it felt like you were the only person in the room. It wasn’t even just the way he would step a little closer to you when you spoke, or how his body would always angle towards you like you were his true north, guiding him home. No, it was in the small, subtle things—the tiny actions that no one else would notice but you.

It happened so effortlessly, so naturally, that at first, you almost thought you imagined it. You were standing in the middle of a crowded party, the music loud, voices blending into a blur, the energy almost overwhelming. William was nearby, talking with a few of his friends, his laughter rising above the noise like a warm wave. You glanced over at him, watching the way he smiled and gestured as he spoke, and for just a moment, you felt that familiar pull toward him. It was then, as if on instinct, that he reached for you.

His fingers brushed yours as he passed by, so light, so casual, it could’ve easily been brushed off as an accident. But it wasn’t. There was no hesitation in the way his hand met yours, no second-guessing or awkwardness. It was the kind of touch that spoke volumes, the kind that was as familiar to him as breathing. His fingers barely skimmed yours, but in that moment, something electric passed between you, a connection so sharp it almost felt like a spark. You blinked, caught off guard, but before you could even think to pull away, you felt the weight of his gaze on you. His eyes were already on you, locking onto yours with such intensity that it was as if the rest of the room had simply faded into the background.

And then, just like that, he smiled. It wasn’t a big, showy grin—just a soft, gentle curve of his lips, one that only you could truly read. His eyes softened, and you could see the warmth there, the affection that radiated from him without a word. It wasn’t the kind of smile he gave anyone else. It was the smile of someone who had found something worth cherishing, worth holding onto. And even though there were people all around you, the noise, the conversations, the chaos—it felt like time stopped in that moment. There was no one else. Just the two of you, standing there in the middle of the crowd, your fingers still lightly touching.

His fingers didn’t move away. They lingered for a second too long, just long enough for you to feel the heat of his palm against yours, to recognize the quiet desire for more. It was like an unspoken promise, one that passed through that brief contact. His hand was warm, his grip light, but steady, as if he wanted you to know that he was there—that he was yours.

You didn’t need to look around to know that other people were probably watching. But somehow, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you were in a room full of people, with the noise of conversations and music swirling around you. All that mattered was the way his attention never wavered, never faltered. His focus remained entirely on you, and for a moment, you felt like you were the only thing that existed in the world. His gaze held you captive, not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel seen, cherished, and adored. Like he couldn’t pull away from you, even if he wanted to.

You could see it in the way his body leaned just a little closer to yours, in the subtle shift in his posture as if, even in the middle of all the people, he was making sure to create space for you to exist beside him. His whole world had narrowed to that simple touch. Your fingers still brushed, his hand hovering near yours like it wanted to stay there forever. And in that brief, stolen moment, you realized that this was no accident. This was intentional. This was him, showing you, without saying a word, how much you meant to him. How much he was already wrapped up in you.

When his fingers finally, reluctantly, pulled away, it was like the world around you shifted back into focus. The voices, the music, the clatter of dishes—everything came rushing back in, but the bubble between the two of you remained. That quiet connection, that unspoken understanding, was still there. His eyes lingered on you, watching for your reaction, and even though the party had started to hum again, there was a calmness that settled over you both, a shared secret between just the two of you.

It wasn’t just those fleeting moments though. It was the quiet ones too—the way he would look at you when you weren’t looking, as though he couldn’t help but drink in the sight of you when you were absorbed in something else. His gaze would soften, his expression relaxed into something peaceful, as if everything in his life made sense in that moment. And when you’d catch him, when you’d glance up and meet his eyes, he’d always flash you that grin—gentle, open, as if he were rediscovering his love for you all over again. Every time. Like you were the most important person in the world, and every look was a reminder of how much he adored you.

The door to the living room opened with a quiet creak, and in walked William, laughing along with a few of his teammates. The sound of their voices filled the room as they chatted casually, clearly in good spirits after a long day of practice or a game. You didn’t immediately look up from your book, letting the soft noise wash over you as they settled into the space. The familiar, comforting hum of their conversations blended with the low background music, and for a moment, you were content in your little corner of the room, lost in the world of your book.

But then, you felt it. That subtle shift in the air. The moment he entered the room, your attention couldn’t help but be pulled toward him. Even with the chatter and movement around you, there was something magnetic about the way he walked into the space. It was the way he carried himself, the easy confidence he exuded, the way his eyes were already scanning the room, searching for you. Without fail, he always found you first. No matter how many people were there, no matter the distractions—he knew exactly where you were.

You could feel his gaze even before it reached you. It was a quiet thing, an almost invisible thread that pulled at you, the sense that someone was looking, really looking, at you. And just as you turned the page of your book, you caught it—his eyes, locking onto yours across the room. It was a split second, but it was enough. His focus narrowed immediately, the noise of his teammates’ conversation fading into the background as he homed in on you.

You met his gaze, and for that brief moment, it was like everything else in the room disappeared. The sounds of his teammates joking around, the clinking of bottles, the laughter—it all faded into silence. All that remained was the look in his eyes, soft and full of warmth, like the rest of the world was secondary to what he felt in that moment. His teammates might’ve been there, laughing and talking, but none of that seemed to matter to him. It was as if, in that second, everything in his life made sense because you were there, sitting just a few feet away.

Then, as if it was second nature, his lips curled into that smile—the one you knew so well. It was slow, easy, and so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat. There was no need for words. His eyes said it all. The way he looked at you, as if he were rediscovering his love for you with every glance. And when he saw you smile back at him, when your eyes softened in return, something in his expression shifted, becoming even more tender.

You could see the peace in his face, the quiet joy that only you seemed to bring him. And even though the room was still filled with the sounds of his teammates and the evening’s activities, William’s attention was firmly planted on you. The way his eyes never strayed, the way his body subconsciously leaned toward you as if he couldn’t help himself—it was all so obvious. So real. His teammates, laughing and talking among themselves, might not have noticed, but you did. You always did.

And then, just when you were about to look away, he did it—he flashed you that grin. The one that made your heart flutter every time, no matter how many times you’d seen it. It wasn’t big, or grand, or over the top. It was small, gentle, a quiet curve of his lips that spoke volumes. His eyes still locked onto yours, and the look he gave you was the kind of look that made you feel like the most important person in the world. It was a look that said, I see you. I adore you. You’re mine.

You could feel the sincerity of it in the way he smiled, as if rediscovering his love for you all over again in that single, unspoken moment. It wasn’t just affection. It was the quiet certainty that you were everything to him. And as he leaned back in his chair, still watching you with that same soft smile, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. You didn’t need him to say anything. His eyes said it all.

And when you smiled back, when you gave him that brief, tender smile that only the two of you understood, you knew. You knew that this was love—the kind that didn’t need to be shouted from rooftops, the kind that existed in the quiet moments, in the stolen glances, in the softest of touches. Every time your eyes met, it was as if he was reminding you, in the gentlest way, that you were the center of his world. He didn’t need to make a spectacle of it. His love for you was written in every look, in every shared second of silence between you.

For a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. Nothing else needed to be said. You and him, two hearts beating in sync, lost in the kind of love that didn’t need words to be understood. It was a love that was so obvious in its simplicity that it left no room for doubt. And as his gaze lingered on you, you couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. Because, for him, you were all that mattered.

And when you texted him—oh, that was his favorite part. The way his phone would buzz in his pocket, the vibration almost like a quiet invitation to escape from whatever he was doing. It wasn’t just another message. It was your message, and the world would pause for a moment when he saw your name on the screen. His fingers would fly across the screen as he typed out a reply, always thoughtful, always sincere, and never without a little term of endearment.

It was late, a quiet evening after the chaos of a long day. The house was calm, dimly lit by the soft glow of a few scattered lamps. The world outside was still, and you found yourself curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, just unwinding after a busy few hours. The hum of the city filtered in faintly through the windows, but inside, everything felt peaceful—until the buzz of your phone vibrated against the coffee table.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. A smile tugged at your lips as you reached for the device, your heart already fluttering at the sight of his name lighting up the screen. William. He was never far from your thoughts, but when it was a message from him, everything else seemed to pause, like the world gave way to something softer, something that belonged to the two of you. You picked up your phone, fingers tapping over the screen to unlock it.

The moment you saw his message, a small, content sigh escaped you.

“Hey, beautiful. How’s your night going?”

It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it didn’t have to be. His words were always like a balm, simple yet so full of meaning. Your fingers hovered over the screen for a second, contemplating how to respond. You didn’t want to sound too eager, but you were already smiling, already warmed by the fact that he thought of you, even in the middle of whatever he was doing.

You typed out a quick reply, and before you could even put your phone back down, the familiar buzz came again, signaling that he’d responded in kind. Your heart fluttered a little at the speed, the immediacy, and you couldn’t help but feel a small, private thrill.

“Good, älskling. I miss you already.”

Your breath caught, and your heart swelled a little. He always did that. No matter how casual the conversation, no matter how brief the exchange, he would sneak in a line like that, as if it were his own secret message to you—a quiet promise he’d never break. His words always felt like something precious, like he was holding onto a little piece of you in every one, even if you were apart for just a few hours. You didn’t need grand declarations when you had these moments. The sincerity in his tone, the care he put into every message, made you feel like he was right there with you, every step of the way.

You quickly responded, teasing just a little, because you knew how much he loved when you’d play along.

“Miss me already? It’s only been a few hours, William.”

And just as you’d expected, the reply came almost immediately, and you could feel the grin in his words before you even saw them.

“You know I can’t help it. I’m counting down the minutes until I see you again, baby.”

Every word was dripping with affection, and your smile widened. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t try to play it cool. William was all in, all the time. And you, well, you felt the same.

You could practically hear the quiet chuckle in his voice as you typed out your reply. His messages were never rushed or careless. He took his time with each word, as if each sentence mattered. It made you feel special in a way no one else could. His messages, just like his gestures in person, carried weight.

“Can’t wait either. How’s practice? Hope you’re not overworking yourself.”

You could almost see him smiling on the other end as he read your message. He might’ve been surrounded by his teammates, lost in the buzz of a busy locker room, but when it came to you, he made everything feel like it could wait. His next message came with the same deliberate pace, as if he was crafting it just for you.

“No, it’s all good. Just a bit tired. But thinking about you always makes it better, älskling.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat at his sweetness, and you immediately typed back.

“You’re such a flirt.”

You didn’t expect him to be anything other than amused by your comment. A few seconds later, his reply came, and this time, there was something even more endearing in his words.

“Only for you, beautiful. Can’t help myself when I’m talking to you.”

You bit your lip, feeling that warm flutter in your chest. It wasn’t just flirtation. It was genuine. Every word from him felt like a piece of his heart slipping into your hands. You had no doubt that he meant every word, that his feelings were real, and they were always wrapped in something that felt so… sincere.

As the conversation wrapped up, you felt the familiar sense of longing tugging at you. The quiet ache of being apart from him, even for just a little while, but that ache was tempered by the warmth of his words.

“Alright, I’m heading to bed. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

And, of course, there it was. The phrase that always made you smile, that quiet promise he gave you without even thinking.

“Miss you already. Sleep well, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

You could practically hear his voice when you read those words, and your heart thumped a little harder in your chest. A simple text exchange, but to him, it was so much more. It wasn’t just a goodbye. It was a piece of him, wrapped up in a message that would linger with you long after you put your phone down.

You set your phone on the table beside you, but for a moment, you sat there, still holding onto the words. “Miss you already.” You smiled softly, your chest full. This was the part of your day you cherished the most—the quiet connection, the unspoken promises. No matter how busy the world got, no matter where you were or how far apart you were, it was moments like these that reminded you how deeply he was invested in you. How much he cared.

It wasn’t about the grand gestures. It was in the small moments, the quiet words, and the promise that even when you weren’t together, you were always on each other’s minds. And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that he would be thinking of you, too.

He was all in. No reservations, no second thoughts. His devotion to you wasn’t just in the grand gestures, though there were plenty of those. No, it was in the small things—the way his eyes softened whenever you spoke, like he was hanging on every word, like he could listen to you for hours and never grow tired. The way he would adjust himself just a little closer to you, like there was no place he’d rather be. When you laughed, you could almost see his heart skip a beat, like he couldn’t get enough of it. You were his muse, his reason to smile, the one thing that could make his heart race just by being in the same room.

You were sitting together in a crowded café, the kind of place where people would talk over one another, conversations blending into a hum of background noise. But to William, there was nothing but you. Your voice carried easily across the table, talking about something trivial—a funny story about something that happened at work or a moment that made you laugh. And William? He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His gaze followed every movement of your lips, as if the words you spoke held some kind of magic. His body leaned just a little closer, as though subconsciously drawn to you, the distance between you growing smaller without either of you having to move. He adjusted his posture, pulling his shoulder closer to yours, almost like he wanted to be as close as possible without actually crowding you.

And when you laughed—a light, carefree sound that made the edges of your eyes crinkle and your smile widen—he was completely captivated. It wasn’t just the sound that got to him, it was the way your entire face lit up, how your whole body seemed to embrace that joy. The laughter was like a melody to him, and in that instant, it felt like his heart skipped a beat. He could feel the warmth spread through him, a mix of happiness and admiration, something that made him ache with the desire to keep you smiling forever. He didn’t even realize he was staring at you until your eyes met his, and he could see a hint of curiosity in your expression.

A soft blush crept up on his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his coffee cup for a second. But even as he looked down, his fingers tapped nervously on the edge of his mug, betraying the way you made him feel. His mind was racing with thoughts of how lucky he was to be sitting here with you, how each little moment with you felt like a gift. The way you laughed, the way your hair fell just so around your face, the way you looked at him with such warmth—it was all so perfect to him. He had never felt this sure about anyone, about anything. You had become his world, his peace, his heart.

You noticed the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his expression softened even more when you caught his eye. It made you smile, and without thinking, you reached out to touch his hand. The simple action was enough to break the momentary tension between you. His fingers immediately wrapped around yours, a quiet sigh escaping him, as though being close to you was the only thing that ever truly made him feel whole.

“Hey,” you said, your voice gentle, laced with a teasing smile. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He looked up at you, his smile shy but filled with warmth. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he confessed, his voice low but steady. He didn’t need to say more; you could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he said the words. He was always thinking about you, always wanting to be close, always trying to find a way to make you smile.

Your heart fluttered, the quiet confession hanging in the air between you. You didn’t need to ask for more. His love was clear, even in the smallest moments. It was in the way he reached out when you needed support, in the way his hand instinctively found its way to the small of your back when you walked together, in the way his body would shift ever so slightly to stay in sync with yours. You never had to worry about him not being there for you—he always was. He was constantly reminding you, in little ways, how much you meant to him. Even now, as his fingers brushed against yours again, it wasn’t just a touch. It was a silent promise that no matter what, he was there. He would always be there.

And as the two of you sat there, surrounded by the noise of the café, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, lost in your own bubble of comfort, love, and understanding. You could feel his gaze on you again, but this time, you didn’t look away. You met it with your own, and in that shared look, everything was said. No words were necessary. You knew that no matter how many people were around, no matter where life took you, he was all in. Completely, undeniably, all in. And that was exactly where he wanted to be.

When you were alone together, it was even more intimate. It was in the way he would tenderly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, or the way his lips would brush against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that you could instantly feel him smirk at. Every touch, every glance, every word between you felt real—like you were two people who had finally found something that mattered more than anything else in the world. And when he looked at you in those quiet moments, it was as if he could see right into your soul, like there was nothing more important than the connection you shared. His touch would tremble just slightly, as if he were afraid he might lose you, and in those moments, it was impossible to deny how completely wrapped up in you he was.

It happened one evening, just after dinner. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft rustle of leaves outside the window. You were curled up together on the couch, the soft fabric of a blanket wrapped around both of you, keeping the evening chill at bay. You were perched in his lap, your body tucked comfortably against his chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Your arms were draped around his shoulders, your chin resting softly on his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breath beneath your cheek. The world outside seemed so far away; it was just the two of you, content in the simple silence of being together.

You were speaking quietly about your day, your voice low as you described the little things that had made you smile. He didn’t say much, content to simply listen to the sound of your voice, his gaze soft as it rested on you. His face was nestled in the crook of your neck, the warmth of his skin against yours, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. He seemed lost in the moment, as if he was savoring your closeness, as if every second of being with you was a treasure.

You tilted your head slightly, feeling his lips brush against your neck as he shifted ever so slightly, pressing a soft kiss against the skin there. The gesture was quiet, simple, but it made your heart beat faster. You couldn’t help but smile, the sensation of his warmth against you making everything else seem insignificant.

Turning your head to glance at him, you caught him staring at you—his eyes were soft, filled with affection, and there was a quiet intensity in them that made your chest tighten. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and easy. “What’s got you so focused?” you asked, your voice playful but warm.

He didn’t immediately answer, instead letting a small smile play on his lips. His arms tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you a little closer, as if he wanted to be even nearer to you. He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting back to your face, and when he spoke, his voice was full of tenderness, like every word was carefully chosen. “I was just thinking about how much I want this moment to last forever,” he said softly, his lips barely brushing your skin as he spoke. “How nothing else matters when I’m with you.”

The sincerity in his words sent a warmth rushing through you, and you felt your pulse quicken as you leaned in just a little, the space between you closing as you rested your head on his. His fingers gently caressed the small of your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you melted into him.

You could feel his breath on your skin, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you as his arms pulled you even tighter against him. Every movement, every word, every touch felt like an unspoken promise. He wasn’t going anywhere, and in that moment, neither were you.

His hand brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with such tenderness it made your heart swell. “You make everything feel right, älskling,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, sending a soft tremor through you.

As if on instinct, you turned your head slightly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft kiss, a silent gesture of affection. You could feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, and you knew he was savoring every bit of this—of you. His lips found the soft skin just beneath your ear, pressing a light, lingering kiss against it, sending a shiver racing down your spine. You tilted your head to give him better access, your breath hitching as his kiss deepened, his lips moving against your neck in a way that was gentle yet full of meaning.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he asked, his voice hushed with a teasing yet affectionate tone, “Did I make you shiver?”

You smiled softly, your breath still unsteady from the kiss, and rested your cheek against his, your arms tightening around his shoulders. “You always do,” you whispered, your voice filled with a quiet warmth that mirrored the tenderness of the moment.

Without saying another word, he leaned in to kiss you again, slow and deliberate, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. As soon as his lips connected with yours, the world outside the bubble of the moment seemed to fall away. It wasn’t a rushed kiss—there was no urgency, no pressure—just the sensation of being with him, completely, as if time itself had paused in reverence of the connection you shared. His kiss was tender, but there was a certain intensity behind it, a depth that spoke of everything unsaid between you, of all the moments you’d shared and all the ones yet to come. Each movement was deliberate, like he was savoring the taste of your lips, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of the feeling of you against him.

His arms tightened around your back, pulling you in closer, as if he wanted to make sure you knew, with every fiber of his being, that you were his and he was yours. You responded without thinking, sliding your legs around him, shifting your weight to straddle his lap, and settling fully into his embrace. Your heart raced, but it wasn’t with nerves—it was the electricity of being this close to him, of being in his arms like this, feeling the heat of his body, the strength of his hands holding you. His chest was solid beneath your palms as you instinctively pressed yourself closer, seeking more of the warmth he radiated.

Your fingers tangled through his soft blonde curls, pulling him nearer, tilting his head just enough to deepen the kiss. It was a movement so natural, so fluid between the two of you, that it felt like nothing else mattered in the world. When his lips parted slightly, you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, tasting him with a quiet urgency, a desire that seemed to hum through you both. His breath hitched, and you felt the little smile he couldn’t quite suppress against your lips. It was a smile full of affection, full of appreciation, as if he couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was to be holding you like this.

Then, the feel of his hands on your body—one moving slowly, purposefully down your side, his touch sending a shiver through you—became something you could no longer ignore. His fingers traced the line of your spine, sending sparks of warmth wherever they touched. One hand slid further down, until it settled on the curve of your waist, and then lower, brushing lightly against your hips. As he did, you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, his boldness surprising you in the best way. But just as quickly as he made that move, his grip softened, and he pulled you back up, shifting your body so that you were closer to him once more, your chest flush against his.

You couldn’t stop the small squeal that slipped past your lips as his hand moved to gently press against your lower back, a teasing, playful touch. But as soon as you adjusted, pulling yourself up and away just slightly, he responded, guiding your movement with care. His hands found your hair, the soft strands tangling beneath his fingers as he shifted his weight, keeping you pressed to him but allowing just enough space to make the moment feel even more intimate.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless, your lips swollen and warm from the intensity. For a moment, neither of you moved, just existing in the stillness that had enveloped you. Your forehead rested against his, your breaths coming in soft, matching rhythms as the air between you seemed to hum with the silence that held all the words you didn’t need to speak.

He held you there, his hands on your waist, the grip of his fingers firm but gentle, grounding you both in the moment. His touch was steady, like he never wanted to let go, and you could feel the sincerity in it. The way he held you was a quiet promise, one that was clear without the need for anything more to be said. You were everything to him. And in his embrace, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The words fell between you like a soft breeze, but they carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty in his tone—only the quiet, unshakable certainty of a man who knew exactly what he felt, who didn’t need to shout his love to the world because it was already known, already understood in the simplest way possible.

The truth of his words wrapped around you, curling into your chest like a warm flame, igniting something deep inside you. You could feel it spreading outward, like the warmth of the sun seeping into your bones. It was a feeling that could only be described as pure, unadulterated joy—joy that came from knowing you were loved, deeply and unconditionally, by the person who mattered most in the world. There was no need for grand gestures, no need for anything flashy or over the top—just the quiet beauty of this moment, of being with him, of being his.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, a smile that was as much a reflection of the love he’d just confessed as it was of the happiness that bloomed in your chest. Your heart felt full—so full that you thought it might burst—and it had nothing to do with words or promises, but with the simple connection you shared in that instant. You leaned in, your lips seeking his once more, but this kiss was different. It was gentle, slow, the kind of kiss that spoke of everything that had already been said and everything that didn’t need to be. It was a kiss born of a deep, quiet understanding—a kiss that conveyed all the things that words couldn’t capture.

The world outside the two of you ceased to exist. There was nothing more important than the way your lips met, the way his hands gently cupped your face, holding you in that moment. The touch was tender, almost reverent, like he was cherishing you in a way that only he could. His kiss was light, as if he were savoring every second, every brush of your lips against his. There was no rush, no urgency—just a shared space of warmth and peace, a silence that was more meaningful than any conversation could ever be.

When the kiss broke, you both lingered there, faces inches apart, breath mingling in the soft quiet between you. The rhythm of your breathing matched, slow and steady, as though you were both holding on to the very moment, unwilling to let go. His hands remained around you, pulling you closer as you nestled into his chest, resting your head against the warmth of his shoulder.

There were no words for this moment—not because they weren’t needed, but because they couldn’t quite do it justice. The silence between you spoke louder than anything you could have said. His arms, loosely yet firmly around you, gave you a sense of safety, of being exactly where you were meant to be. His presence was a constant reassurance, a silent promise that this, what you shared, was real, and it was enough.

You couldn’t help but close your eyes, feeling his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calm. The gentle rise and fall of his chest matched your own breath, and in that quiet unity, you knew—you knew without a doubt how completely wrapped up in each other you both were. You were his world, and he was yours, and there was no greater truth in that moment than the love that you shared.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t brash. But in its quiet, steady way, it was the most profound thing you’d ever known.

And the most beautiful part of all his love for you? He didn’t care who noticed. He didn’t care about the glances from others, the quiet whispers behind his back, or the raised eyebrows that sometimes followed the two of you. It wasn’t just about the gestures, the little touches, the way his eyes softened when you spoke, or the way his body seemed to naturally lean into you whenever you were near. It wasn’t something he did out of obligation or as an attempt to prove something to anyone else—it was just who he was. Completely, irreversibly, and authentically him.

In those moments, there was no hesitation. No self-consciousness. His love for you wasn’t something he would hide, something he would shelter from the world’s gaze. It was there, in the way his voice would soften when he said your name, in the way he reached for you instinctively in crowded rooms, as if his body couldn’t stand the distance for a second longer. He didn’t need to analyze it, didn’t need to overthink whether it was too much or too soon, because it was just right.

He showed the world, in the quietest of ways, how much you meant to him. He didn’t shout it from the rooftops, but his every action, his every glance toward you, whispered louder than any declaration ever could. When he looked at you, the love in his eyes was evident to anyone who was paying attention, but he didn’t care if anyone was. The only thing that mattered was you.

And maybe, just maybe, it was a little too obvious. Maybe there were moments when people noticed how he would hold you just a bit longer than expected, how he would brush his fingers against yours with a tenderness that didn’t need to be explained. Maybe they noticed the way he would always make sure you were comfortable, that you were cared for, that you never had to ask for anything because he already knew. But even if it made him stand out in the crowd, even if it made others raise their eyebrows, he didn’t care. He would never apologize for loving you in the way he did.

Because for him, there was nothing more natural, nothing more real than the love he had for you. It was a love that didn’t hide in the shadows or shrink back in the face of judgment—it radiated from him, a constant, quiet presence that followed him wherever he went. People could talk, they could whisper, they could try to label it, but nothing could ever change the truth. He was hopelessly, entirely, and completely down bad for you.

And, in the end, that was all that mattered. He would never hide it, never suppress it, never try to make it something smaller or quieter than it was. The love he felt for you was a part of him, as essential as breathing, as necessary as the air in his lungs. So, if people were watching? Fine. Let them watch. Because as long as you knew—as long as you knew that you were his world—he was content. There was no shame in loving you this fiercely, no embarrassment in showing the world how much he adored you.

The truth was, he wasn’t just yours—he was all in. Entirely, completely, forever yours. And nothing, not the whispers or the judgment or the passing comments, could ever change that.

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tmiegrl · 11 months ago

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hello kitty cassette player ﹒ 𐙚 ˚ ﹒⟢

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estapa-edwards · 11 days ago

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Hey i love your work! I was wondering you could do a fic with Smitty. Maybe something along the lines of her being a dancer for University of Minnesota or somewhere and going to dance at UDA nationals since it’s in California and Will goes to support her. Maybe reader didn’t think he could make it or something?

Will Smith x reader

word count: 2.2k

requested? yes

warnings: none!

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The convention center in Anaheim buzzed with energy — glitter, hairspray, and adrenaline practically dripping from the walls. Every hallway echoed with counts of “five, six, seven, eight,” and your team had already run your routine four times since breakfast.

Your cheeks were flushed from exertion, your bun was so tight it was giving you a mild headache, and the butterflies in your stomach? Borderline aggressive.

“This place is chaos,” Kayla muttered beside you, stretching out her legs against the wall. “I swear, I almost got trampled by a group from LSU.”

You gave her a distracted laugh, glancing down at your phone again. Still nothing.

Will hadn’t texted you all day. Which, okay, fine — he was in the middle of a West Coast swing with the Sharks and had a game last night, so you shouldn’t have expected much. But part of you still wished he'd at least sent a little good luck message.

You opened your camera, checked your makeup, then backed out again and clicked on his contact. After a moment of hesitation, you hit the FaceTime button.

It rang once. Twice.

Then his sleepy face appeared, lit only by the glow of his phone and the faint blue light of... an airplane seat?

“Hey, babe,” he said, voice scratchy but warm.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Was trying to. Early flight.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “You look pretty. Is it glitter or sweat?”

“Both,” you deadpanned, but you softened almost immediately. “I miss you.”

He smiled gently, and it made your chest ache. “I miss you more.”

Your heart squeezed, and your brain tried to keep you cool. Chill. Normal. Not at all like the mildly unhinged girlfriend who’d been checking the arrivals board at the hotel lobby like a psycho just in case he magically appeared.

“I know you can’t come,” you said, trying for breezy. “It’s fine. You’ve got games, travel, you’re, like, an NHL player and stuff.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying that like you’re not the one about to perform at Nationals. You’re kind of a big deal too.”

You smiled, cheeks heating. “Not Sharks-level big.”

“Okay, true,” he teased, smirking. “But I’d put University of Minnesota dance team up there.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back against the hallway wall, lowering your voice as some of your teammates passed by.

“I just wish you could’ve seen it, that’s all,” you mumbled. “But it’s okay.”

Will tilted his head, studying you through the screen. “Hey. You know I want to be there more than anything, right?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“Seriously. I hate missing your stuff.”

You tried to keep your tone light. “Well, unless you’ve got a time machine or a private jet, there’s not much you can do about it.”

He chuckled. “Not this time.”

The words caught your attention, but he immediately yawned and leaned back against the headrest. “Okay, I gotta crash for a bit. Text me after your routine?”

“Of course.” You hesitated, then added, “I love you.”

His smile returned, softer now. “Love you too, superstar.”

You hung up and stared at your screen, heart tugging in two directions.

Half of you was grateful for the call. The other half? Still lowkey devastated.

--- --- ---

You didn’t have time to be sad the next morning.

Nationals day was a whirlwind. Warm-ups, makeup touch-ups, double-checking your team jacket, eating half a protein bar while a teammate fixed your lashes — it was full-on competition energy.

Still, in the quiet moments — tying your shoes, stretching at the edge of the practice floor — your mind wandered.

You kept checking the audience every time you passed the performance hall, knowing fully well he wasn’t going to be there. And yet…

“Girl, stop scanning the crowd like it owes you money,” Kayla said, tossing you a water bottle. “If Will was gonna be here, you’d know.”

You groaned and collapsed onto the bench. “I know. I’m being insane.”

“You’re not.” She sat beside you and bumped her shoulder into yours. “Just in love.”

“Ew.”

She grinned. “Disgusting, honestly.”

--- --- ---

Will Smith was sprinting through the arrivals terminal at LAX with his duffle bag over his shoulder and his baseball cap pulled low.

He had exactly two hours until your scheduled performance time, and traffic in LA? His personal villain.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he muttered to himself, pulling out his phone. “Uber… no, Lyft’s faster right now… Anaheim, let’s go.”

His driver pulled up in a minivan that smelled like Febreze and stress. The guy didn’t say a word as Will tossed his bag in and jumped in the back, already loading up your team’s Instagram story to see if you’d posted anything.

Nothing. But the last story said “ON DECK IN 2 HOURS!!!” with a fire emoji and a team selfie. You were front and center, grinning — eyes bright, glitter catching the sun.

Will just stared for a second, smile creeping onto his face. God, he was so gone for you.

“Gotta get there,” he mumbled, like it would magically make traffic move faster.

--- --- ---

Back at the venue, your team circled up behind the stage. Warm-ups were done. Hair was set. You were minutes away.

Your hands shook as you adjusted your earrings. Not because of the routine — you knew it like the back of your hand. But the crowd was huge. The stakes were high.

And the one person you wanted to see wasn’t in the room.

“Alright,” your coach said, voice strong but emotional. “You’ve worked so hard for this. I want you to dance like it’s the last time you ever get to do this. Give it everything.”

You nodded, holding your teammates' hands, trying not to let the tears start too soon.

Then came the announcement. “Next up… the University of Minnesota!”

The cheers exploded. Lights shifted. You filed out onto the stage like you’d done in practice a hundred times. But this was it.

The moment.

The music started.

And your mind cleared.

Every count, every move — muscle memory took over.

You didn’t have to think about the turns, the transitions, or the final formation. You just felt it. The music, the beat, your teammates moving in sync around you — it all blended into this powerful, electric blur.

You crushed your turning combo, landed every leap with precision, and hit that final pose like your life depended on it. The second the music cut off, the arena erupted into cheers.

You were frozen in your final position, chest heaving, face burning with adrenaline and emotion. Then your teammates collapsed around you in a mess of hugs and high-pitched squeals.

Tears were already streaming down your cheeks as you ran offstage.

“We did it!” Kayla screamed, pulling you into a hug.

You laughed through the tears, wiping your eyes. “That felt unreal.”

You could barely process what was happening around you — the crowd noise, your coach crying, someone handing you water — but you still found yourself glancing toward the audience again, even though it was useless.

He wasn’t here.

You knew that.

You told yourself it was fine.

You were proud of yourself. Proud of your team. You didn’t need him there.

You just really, really wanted him.

Then a voice behind you said, “You didn’t even look at the front row.”

You spun around so fast you nearly tripped over your dance bag.

Standing there — sweaty, flushed from running, hair a mess under his Sharks cap — was Will.

You blinked. “No.”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

“No freaking way.”

Before he could respond, you launched yourself into his arms. He caught you instantly, laughing as he spun you in a small circle, ignoring the chaos around you. You were pretty sure half your team had noticed and were collectively losing their minds in the background, but none of it mattered.

“You said you weren’t coming!” you said into his hoodie, your voice muffled by emotion.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands on your waist. “I lied. But, like, romantically.”

You hit his chest. “You’re the worst.”

“You’re welcome.”

You stared at him for a second, blinking like he might disappear. “Wait… when did you get here?”

“Fifteen minutes before your routine. Security was a nightmare. Your coach almost didn’t let me back here — I had to show her, like, five photos of us together to prove I wasn’t a stalker.”

You laughed, a little breathless. “You’re insane.”

“I told you I wanted to be here more than anything.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, glitter and all. “You’re a menace. But I love you.”

He smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Good. Because next time? I’m not letting you compete without me in the front row. Ever again.”

“Deal.”

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

I’m so sorry for the unexpected hiatus — I recently started a full-time job, and it’s been a bit of a whirlwind adjusting to the new schedule. Writing had to take a backseat for a little while, but I’ve missed it (and all of you!) so much.

I’m going to do my best to get some new works out soon! In the meantime, feel free to send in any requests — I’d love to start working on things you want to see 💛 Thank you for being so patient and supportive!

#nhl x reader #san jose sharks #will smith x reader #will smith hockey #will smith #will smith imagine #dancer x hockey player #hockey #will smith nhl

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secretlittlerandezvous · 3 days ago

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Better Than I Do - Will Smith

Summary: After Will's girlfriend surprises him by attending one of his home games wearing his jersey, he can't keep his eyes off her. The sight of her in his shirt drives him wild,

Words: 714

Note: Slightly nsfw.

The moment he stepped onto the ice for warmups, his eyes instinctively scanned the lower bowl, even though he already knew she wouldn’t be there. She called him earlier, something about work, maybe school, deadlines piling up, her voice thick with frustration through the phone. He told her it was okay. That she didn’t have to be at every home game. That he’d see her after and that would be more than enough. He never wanted to be the type of a guy to pressure her into something.

But it wasn’t the same without her.

His game-day routine felt slightly off. The pregame meal. The warmup music. Even tying his skates felt mechanical. Detached. And he hated that. He hated how much he’d gotten used to her being there, waiting for him after games with a cheerful smile no matter if they won or lost.

So, he dropped his head and focused. One game. One night.

But then he spotted her. Front row. Wearing his jersey.

It was his away white oversized jersey, nearly drowning her, the sleeves bunched at her wrists. Her hair was loose, cheeks rosy from the cold, and she was nursing a hot drink, lips curved in a soft smile the second their eyes met.

Will nearly stumbled on the ice.

For a second, he just stared. Then he smiled, wide and shameless, and shook his head in disbelief.

She came. She lied.

And God, she looked good.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

The boys teased him for it. “Yo, lover boy, focus!” one of the defensemen yelled.

But he didn��t care. He had his girl in the crowd and his name on her back. That was all the motivation he needed.

He played one of the best games of his season. Fast. Sharp. Scored a goal. Set up another. His confidence was through the roof. It was her. Sitting there, cheering for him like he was something special.

By the time he hit the showers, he was already texting her: “You’re in trouble.”

Her response: “You’ll have to catch me first.”

She was already curled up on the couch when he got home, his jersey still clinging to her like it belonged there. Her legs were bare, knees tucked under her, hair messy from the beanie she wore earlier. She looked so effortlessly comfortable in his space, like she didn’t just belong in the arena but here, with him.

Will leaned against the doorframe for a second, just watching her, something warm and possessive blooming in his chest.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” he said, walking toward her.

“You seemed tired. I wanted it to be a surprise.” She smiled, that familiar sparkle in her eyes. “Did it work?”

He reached for her, tugging her up gently by the hands until she stood in front of him. “Yeah,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face. “You wrecked me out there.”

She tilted her head. “Wrecked you?”

He smirked. “Every time I looked up and saw you in my jersey, I forgot where I was. I could barely focus.” His fingers toyed with the hem.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

He hummed, pulling her closer, his hands resting on her hips. “You should know what it does to me,” he murmured, voice low now. “Seeing you like this.”

She pretended to think. “Might’ve had an idea.”

His lips were on her neck a second later, slow and warm, and her breath hitched. His hands slipped under the jersey, dragging up the backs of her thighs as he whispered against her skin, “You’re not taking this off tonight.”

“Oh no?” she teased, leaning into him.

“Nope,” he said between kisses, moving them backward toward the bedroom. “Not even gonna let you. You’re mine tonight. All mine.”

She laughed softly, breathless now, tugging at his hoodie. “You’ve got this whole possessive thing going on…”

Will grinned. “Can you blame me? Look at you.” He pressed her down gently onto the bed, climbing over her with that same wild look he had on the ice when he was seconds from scoring. “Tell me you don’t know what this is doing to me.”

“I do,” she whispered.

“Then keep it on.” His voice dropped, gravelly and low.

#will smith #will smith one shot #will smith writing #will smith imagine #will smith x reader #san jose sharks #san jose sharks x reader #san jose sharks imagine #san jose sharks writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl one shot #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl players imagine

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toasttt11 · 19 days ago

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single

summary: meeting someone for the first isn’t always perfect

request: *at a store and checking out* “Can you also add that spider-man kinder-joy right there? Make it three.” “Is it for your kids?” “No, for me. I’m single.”

will smith x reader

Will was walking down the isles in Target alone trying to grab a few last minute things before he had to leave for a long road trip later today.

His basket had all of his things he need and he started heading to the register.

Will was putting his phone away after texting Macklin back as Macklin was spamming him with texts.

Will took a step forward and felt someone hit his chest and he quickly reached out grabbing their waist to steady them and accidentally knocking their basket to the floor.

“I am so sorry.” Will quickly apologized feeling embarrassed for almost knocking them over completely and when he looked down, he realized he ran into a girl.

She glanced up at him not noticing how Will’s mouth parted as he looked at her first time as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay.” She gave him a kind smile, her eyes flickering across his face.

“Here let me help.” Will quickly stumbled over his words as he saw her starting to bend down to pick up her basket and items that were on the floor.

She looked up just as he bent down making their forehead bump together and they both hissed in pain holding their own foreheads.

“I’m so sorry again.” Will quickly got some words out looking incredibly sorry as he saw her holding her forehead.

She laughed just softly at his awkward and worried look, “It’s okay really.”

Will softly nodded as he stood up and held out his hand for to take, she grabbed her basket grabbing his hand standing up, “I’m Will.”

Will smiled hearing her name repeating it over in his head.

Will and her both took a step in the same direction and she laughed softly shaking her head and gestured for Will to go first to head to the register.

Will gave her a thankful look and went first and to in line at a register and he set his stuff on the conveyer belt as she waited in line behind him.

Will’s fingers were tapping on the conveyer belt trying to find something to say to the very pretty girl next to him.

He glanced up when the cashier was just scanning the last time and saw the kinder chocolates that Macklin loves, Will would never here the end of it if Macklin found out he didn’t get them.

“Can i still add the spider-man kinder-joy right there?” Will asked the cashier pointing to the kinder on the little shelves next to to the conveyer belt, who just nodded and grabbed one for Will scanning it.

She glanced at him with a little smile shaking her head.

“Actually make it three. Please.” Will added, knowing Macklin wouldn’t share his.

“Is it for your kids?” The cashier drawled at as they scanned the three eggs.

She looked down at her feet giggling softly at the question and the look on Will’s face, she glanced back up as Will answered.

“No, for me. I’m single.” Will stumbled out glancing at her nervously when he said he was single.

The cashier just sighed looking done seeing the glances between the two and handed Will the receipt.

Will slowly started walking away but barely moving that far from the register as she was waiting for her stuff and finished quicker than Will.

She glanced over as she grabbed her bag seeing Will just awkwardly standing there and smiled to herself, he was adorable.

Will smiled perking up as she walked over to him and they slowly started walking out of the target together.

“So kinder eggs?” She asked him softly as they got outside giggling as she asked and Will let out a small groan but smiled at her laughing.

“My friend loves them so i got them for him.” Will explained to her.

“That’s sweet.” She mused and raised an eyebrow seeing Will’s cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back his head, she would remember that hopefully for later.

“Uh can i have your number?” Will blurted out as they crossed the parking lot. He looked at her with a hopeful look that reminded her of a puppy.

“Sure.” She easily agreed and he handed her his phone, she quickly typed her number in handing it back.

“Enjoy the kinder eggs.” She teased softly as she turned away and started walking away.

Will just smiled goofily as he watched her walk away and immediately sent her a text.

#toast’s 1k celly!#will smith hockey blurbs #will smith hockey fluff #will smith x reader #will smith hockey x reader #will smith hockey #ws2 #nhl #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl x reader #nhl blurbs #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #nhl hockey #nhl players #san jose sharks #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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cailinsblog · 4 months ago

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Protecting Her Hear | macklin celebrini

Macklin celebrini x reader

It was a crisp December evening in San Jose, and the SAP Center was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands for the Sharks’ home game against the Chicago Blackhawks. Among the sea of fans in the lower bowl, one face stood out. Y/N, wearing her favorite Macklin Celebrini jersey, was settled into her seat, a smile lighting up her face as she watched her boyfriend skate out onto the ice. The young NHL star was having an incredible season with the Sharks, and every game felt like a new chapter in their story.

Macklin had grown close to Y/N ever since their high school days, and even though his hockey career had launched him into the public eye, he always made time for her. She was his constant, the calm in his otherwise hectic life. They had spent so many nights at games, watching his teammates and feeling the rush of the crowd, but tonight was special. It was their first time attending a Sharks game as an official couple, and Y/N couldn’t have been more proud.

As the game progressed, Y/N found herself engrossed in the action, her eyes glued to Macklin, who had already made a couple of incredible plays. She was cheering and clapping along with the rest of the crowd, completely unaware of the man who had stumbled to her seat.

The man was probably in his late twenties, and from the faint smell of alcohol, Y/N could tell he had been drinking for a while. At first, he lingered in the aisle near her, watching the game without much attention to her. But then, he began leaning closer, and Y/N noticed him trying to strike up a conversation.

“Hey there, you enjoying the game?” he slurred, his voice far too loud for the crowded arena.

Y/N gave him a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene. “Yeah, I’m here with my boyfriend. He’s playing tonight.”

“Oh? You’re with him?” The man seemed to squint as if it was hard for him to fully process the information. “Which one is he?”

“Macklin Celebrini,” Y/N replied, gesturing toward the ice where Macklin was skating along the blue line.

The man’s eyes flickered toward the ice, then back to Y/N. He leaned in closer, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol. “You know, you’re way too pretty for a guy like him. You could be with someone better. What are you doing with a hockey player? They’re all the same.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, her discomfort starting to rise. She wasn’t sure what the man was getting at, but his presence was beginning to feel overwhelming. She shifted in her seat, trying to subtly create space between them. “I really don’t think that’s something I want to talk about,” she said firmly, hoping he would take the hint.

But the man, clearly not catching on, continued to stand too close, his words becoming more inappropriate. “You don’t have to be so uptight, sweetheart. It’s just a game. No need to be all serious.”

At that moment, Y/N felt her anxiety spike. She could feel her hands tense up, and her heart began to race. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she also didn’t want to just sit there and take it. She stood up, trying to move toward the aisle, but the man blocked her path.

Before she could say anything, she felt a presence behind her.

“Macklin, please!” The man said, raising a hand in a dismissive manner. “I’m just talking to your girl.”

But Macklin’s face was a picture of intense focus as he skated toward the bench for a quick line change. His eyes immediately locked onto Y/N and the man in front of her. He could see the discomfort in her expression. He had been scanning the crowd between shifts and had noticed the scene unfolding. In an instant, his protective instincts kicked in, and he pushed off from the bench, his skates slicing through the ice as he rushed toward the exit.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw Macklin’s figure approaching the stands. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but she also didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. However, Macklin had already seen enough.

The moment he reached the barrier separating the stands from the ice, he hoisted himself up effortlessly, his hands gripping the railing. He made his way directly to Y/N, his gaze laser-focused on the man who was still standing too close to her.

“Hey,” Macklin’s voice was calm, but it held an unmistakable edge. “Back off. Now.”

The drunk man blinked, his brain taking a moment to process the situation. But when he saw Macklin’s face, his expression changed. He had clearly recognized the player, but the alcohol still clouded his judgment. “What? Are you gonna tell me what to do now? I’m just talking to your girl,” he sneered.

Y/N could feel the tension in the air, but she was grateful that Macklin was there. She took a step back, not wanting to escalate things further, but also not wanting to be in the middle of it. Macklin’s gaze softened as he turned toward her.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, his hand reaching out to hold hers. His eyes searched hers, full of concern. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone with him. I should’ve been more aware.”

Y/N nodded, a small, shaky smile on her face. “I’m fine, Mack. Thank you for coming over, though. I… I didn’t know what to do.”

Macklin squeezed her hand, the warmth of his touch grounding her. He turned back to the man, who was now visibly shrinking under Macklin’s glare.

“I don’t care what you’ve had to drink, but if you don’t leave my girlfriend alone, we’ll be having a much bigger problem,” Macklin said, his tone firm and unwavering.

The drunk man staggered back, his bravado faltering as the reality of the situation set in. Without another word, he turned and stumbled away toward the exit.

Macklin turned back to Y/N, and his expression softened. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart still racing but now filled with gratitude. “I’m okay. I’m just glad you were here.”

Macklin smiled, his hand still holding hers. “I’d never let anything happen to you, Y/N. You mean the world to me.”

They shared a tender moment, the chaos of the situation fading into the background as Macklin pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go back to our seats. The game’s not over yet, and I think we could use some popcorn,” he said with a wink.

As they made their way back to their seats, Y/N leaned her head on Macklin’s shoulder, feeling safe and cared for. The rest of the game continued, with Macklin playing as if nothing had happened, but Y/N knew better. She knew that her boyfriend would always protect her, no matter what.

And as the final buzzer sounded, signaling a Sharks victory, she felt a sense of warmth, not just from the win, but from the love and protection that Macklin had shown her. She was lucky to have him in her life, and she knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would face them together.

#hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #fanfic #macklin celebrini x reader #macklin celebrini #san jose sharks #san Jose #nhl x y/n #nhl x oc #nhl x you #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl fluff #nhl hockey

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magicalbunbun · 2 months ago

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Happy valentines guys! And many love for you!

#sans oc #undertale sans #sans undertale #sans au #sans #sans lust #lust sans #lust sans x reader #lust sans x player #player sans #undertale x player #undertale player #undertale genocide #undertale x reader #sans x player #undertale sans x reader #sans x reader

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meazalykov · 6 months ago

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on top of the world

alex morgan x actress!reader

summary: 2019 was the biggest moment in your career, and hers.

2019 is a busy year. endgame, the film you've poured your heart into for the last couple of years, is about to hit theaters, and it’s set to be one of the biggest movies in history.

the buzz around it is insane—press tours, interviews, red carpets. you’ve barely had time to breathe, but there’s something, or rather, someone, constantly on your mind. alex morgan.

your relationship with alex has always been something special. it's been private, quiet—at least as much as it could be, considering you’re both public figures. her, one of the biggest stars in women’s soccer, and you, one of the biggest actresses in hollywood.

the rumors about you two have been swirling for months, ever since that time the media caught you at one of her orlando pride games, but you’ve both kept things under wraps. still, it’s getting harder to hide how deeply you care for each other.

alex is about to head to france for the world cup, and you’ve promised yourself you’re not going to miss a single one of her matches, no matter how crazy your schedule gets. she’s been laser-focused on the tournament, and you’ve been equally invested in your work, but that doesn’t stop the late-night texts, the phone calls after her training sessions, the video chats where she shows you around their team hotel.

“are you nervous?” you ask her during one of those late-night video calls, your phone propped up on your pillow as you lay in bed.

“a little,” she admits with a small smile. “but mostly excited. it’s the world cup. we won last time and i have confidence that we will win again.”

“yes! and you’re going to crush it,” you say confidently, leaning in closer to the screen as if that could somehow bring you closer to her. “i know you will.”

“i wish you could be here,” she says, her voice soft, a little wistful.

you feel the same ache in your chest. “me too.”

the group stages kick off, and despite your packed schedule, you make time to watch every game. sometimes, you’re in a hotel room in new york after a bunch of press interviews; other times, you’re sitting on the couch at home, gripping a cup of coffee as the u.s. takes the field.

your heart races every time alex touches the ball. she’s brilliant—strong, fast, lethal in front of goal. you scream when she scores her first goal of the tournament, jumping off the couch like a little kid, and immediately text her afterward.

“did you see it?” she asks later, when she had a few minutes back in the hotel room before she went to sleep.

“i saw everything,” you reply. “you are incredible. i’m so proud of you.”

you’re glued to the screen through each stage of the tournament. when the u.s. faces france in the quarter-finals, you find yourself on the edge of your seat, heart in your throat.

it’s a tough game, and alex looks exhausted, but when the final whistle blows and they’ve won, you exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

then comes the semi-final against england. by now, you’ve memorized every corner of your living room, pacing nervously back and forth.

it’s a tense match, but when alex scores that iconic goal, raising her hand in that cheeky tea-sipping celebration, you burst out laughing, pride swelling in your chest.

“i can’t believe you did that!” you text her after the game, still grinning.

“had to,” she later replies with a wink emoji. “for the drama.”

the u.s. wins, and with that victory, they’re headed to the final. and that’s when you make your decision.

no matter how packed your schedule is with the upcoming premiere of endgame, you have to be there for alex. you clear a few days, book a flight to france, and don’t tell her a word about it.

when you land in lyon, your heart is racing. you can hardly believe you’re here, sitting in the stands with alex’s family, her sisters beside you, chatting excitedly about how well she’s been playing.

the fans around you are buzzing, and a few of them notice you, pointing and whispering. the rumors about you and alex have never stopped, and your presence here only fuels the fire.

“you think she knows you’re here?” her sister, jeni, asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

“nope,” you reply, feeling a thrill run down your spine. “it’s a surprise.”

the stadium is electric. the u.s. faces off against the netherlands, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. you sit on the edge of your seat, fingers crossed, your eyes never leaving alex.

she’s a warrior on the field, pushing through exhaustion, chasing every ball, and leading her team with that fire you fell in love with. when megan rapinoe scores the first goal from the penalty spot, you leap to your feet, screaming with the crowd. then rose lavelle seals it with a second goal, and that’s it.

the u.s. are world champions again.

tears prick your eyes as the final whistle blows. you watch alex drop to her knees, overwhelmed, before being swarmed by her teammates.

the celebration is wild, but you’re still holding your breath, waiting for the moment you’ll finally see her.

and then, there she is, searching the stands, her eyes scanning the crowd. when she spots you, her face lights up like the fourth of july. without hesitation, she runs over, her smile wide and tears of joy glistening in her eyes.

“you’re here,” she breathes, pulling you into a tight embrace, her hands gripping the back of your neck.

you laugh, your heart racing in your chest as you cling to her. “of course i’m here. i wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, her breath shaky. “you’re supposed to be in l.a. for the premiere.”

“i’ve got a few days,” you say, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “you were worth the trip.”

her eyes fill with emotion as she cups your face with both hands, her thumb gently stroking your cheek. “i can’t believe you did this.”

“you’ve done so much for me,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “this was the least i could do. you’re my world, alex.”

“i love you,” she says, her voice barely audible over the roaring crowd.

“i love you too,” you reply, and the kiss you share feels like the perfect ending to the perfect day.

four days later, you’re back in los angeles, decked out in a designer dress for the endgame premiere. the energy is electric, the press is everywhere, and fans are lining the streets, eager for a glimpse of the stars.

you’ve done the red carpet, given interviews, posed for countless photos with your co-stars. but now, as you wait in the hallway for the theater to open, you’re chatting with scarlett, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

“you nervous?” she asks, grinning as she adjusts the hem of her dress.

“always,” you admit, laughing softly. “no matter how many of these i do, it never gets easier.”

then, you feel it—those familiar hands resting on your shoulders. your heart skips a beat, and you turn around, a huge smile already forming on your face.

there, standing in front of you, dressed in a sleek black suit, is alex.

“alex?” you gasp, eyes wide with disbelief. “what are you doing here?”

she grins, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint. “i couldn’t let you have one of the biggest nights of your life without me. you came to france for me, so i had to be here for you.”

you throw your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug, the world around you fading away. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“yes, i did,” she says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’re my world too, you know.”

you pull back just enough to look into her eyes, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“we’re really doing this, huh? the whole “on top of the world” thing.”

alex laughs, nodding. “yeah, we really are.”

and as the theater doors open, the lights flashing and the crowd cheering, you know in your heart that nothing will ever break what you have.

masterlist

#alex morgan #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #uswnt players #uswnt x reader #san diego wave

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777bae · 2 months ago

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A LOVE THAT GROWS WILLIAM EKLUND

Summary :: William Eklund is a dedicated partner and father, supporting you through pregnancy, late-night cravings, and building the nursery. His love deepens with every milestone, always cheering on your daughter. (REQUESTED :: pregnancy -> girldad)

Warnings :: pregnancy

Word count :: 4.0k

You never thought you could love William Eklund more than you already did. From the moment you met him, he had been warm, kind, and full of life. But now, as you sit on the couch, your hand resting on your growing belly, you realize that love has a way of expanding—just like the life forming inside of you.

William had been over the moon when you first told him you were pregnant. You still remember the way his blue eyes widened, the way his lips parted in disbelief before curving into the biggest, most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. He had wrapped you in his arms, lifting you off the ground as he spun you around, laughing in pure joy.

He had always been attentive, but now, he was completely devoted. Some nights, when he thought you were asleep, he would trace gentle patterns over your skin, talking to her like she was already here.

“She’s going to be so beautiful,” he murmured one evening, his fingers brushing over your stomach. “Just like her mama.”

You let out a sleepy laugh, reaching to run your fingers through his soft hair. “You’re really in love with her already, aren’t you?”

William lifted his head, his hazel eyes shining with a warmth that made your heart ache in the best way. “Completely,” he admitted.

Every morning, before he leaves for practice, he kneels in front of you, pressing a soft kiss to your belly and murmuring sweet nothings in Swedish, his voice low and full of adoration. Sometimes he hums a lullaby, his fingers tracing light circles over your stomach, as if he’s already trying to soothe the baby inside. He always tells her he loves her, even before she’s here, and sometimes, if you’re lucky, she kicks in response, making his eyes go wide with awe.

“She knows her papa already,” he whispers, resting his cheek against your belly with a tender smile.

You swear he never stops thinking about you. When he comes home after a long day of practice, sweat still clinging to his skin, his first words aren’t about hockey or how training went. They’re always about you.

“How are my girls?” he asks, dropping his bag by the door and immediately walking over to you. He kneels down in front of the couch, his hands finding your belly first before he leans up to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

If your feet are swollen, he’s on the floor before you can even complain, rubbing slow, careful circles into your aching skin. His hands, rough from hockey, are warm and soothing as he kneads the tension away, pressing kisses to your ankle between strokes.

“You’re doing so much already,” he murmurs, gazing up at you with so much love it almost takes your breath away. “Let me take care of you.”

And he does—constantly.

When you wake up nauseous in the middle of the night, barely making it to the bathroom, he’s right behind you, gathering your hair and rubbing your back as you tremble over the sink. He whispers reassurances, pressing his lips to your temple as he holds you up.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, waiting until you feel steady enough before guiding you back to bed. He disappears for only a moment, returning with a cold washcloth to press to your forehead, along with a glass of water and a handful of crackers.

He never lets you lift a finger. Laundry? Already done. Dishes? Washed and put away before you even notice. One time, you wake up to find him assembling a crib in the middle of the nursery at 2 a.m., struggling with the instructions but determined to finish before you wake up.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admits sheepishly when you catch him, his hair a mess, frustration evident in the way his brows are furrowed. “I swear, the instructions make no sense.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you step closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You could’ve waited until morning.”

“I know,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he looks at the half-finished crib before glancing back at you, his expression softening. “But I just… I want everything to be perfect for her.”

Your heart melts at the sincerity in his voice.

William has always been the type to put others first, but now, with you carrying his child, he takes it to another level. When you’re out running errands together, he always insists on carrying the heavier bags, even if it’s just a carton of milk. If he notices you looking tired, he gently tugs you into his side, his arm wrapping around your waist as he kisses the top of your head.

And then there are the cravings.

One night, you’re curled up on the couch, barely paying attention to the movie playing, when the sudden, desperate need for chocolate-covered pretzels hits you.

“Will?” you mumble sleepily.

“Hmm?” He glances over from his spot beside you, already tucking the blanket tighter around your legs.

“I think I need chocolate-covered pretzels.”

He blinks, then checks his phone. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I know,” you sigh dramatically, pouting up at him. “But they sound so good right now.”

He shakes his head, laughing softly. “You and our daughter are really putting me to work, huh?”

Still, he doesn’t hesitate. Within minutes, he’s pulling on his hoodie and grabbing his car keys.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts gently, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Twenty minutes later, he’s back, triumphant, holding up not one but three different brands of chocolate-covered pretzels.

“I didn’t know which ones you’d want,” he explains, setting them on your lap with a proud grin. “So I got them all.”

It’s in moments like these that you realize just how lucky you are.

One night, after a particularly long day, you find yourself overwhelmed with emotions. You’re exhausted, sore, and your hormones are making you cry over everything. William finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you rub at your swollen belly.

“Baby,” he whispers, immediately kneeling in front of you. His hands frame your face, thumbs wiping away your tears. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I just… I feel huge, and everything hurts, and I’m so tired.”

He listens, his face soft with understanding as he gently pulls you into his arms.

“You’re growing a whole human,” he reminds you, pressing his lips against your hair. “It’s okay to feel this way. But you’re not just beautiful, you’re incredible.”

You close your eyes, sinking into his warmth. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispers.

That night, he holds you a little closer, his hand never straying from your belly, as if he’s silently promising to always be there for both of you.

And in that moment, you know—he always will be.

The moment your daughter enters the world, William changes forever.

You’ve never seen him cry much, but the second he hears her tiny, wobbly cry, he shatters. Tears spill down his cheeks, his lips parting in a stunned breath as he stares at the little miracle in the doctor’s hands. His hands shake when they finally place her in his arms, his entire world shifting in an instant.

She’s so small, wrapped in a soft hospital blanket, her delicate features scrunched up as she whimpers. A tuft of light brown hair, just like his, sticks up slightly at the top of her head. His breath catches as he studies her, as if memorizing every perfect little detail.

“Hi, älskling,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. His fingertip brushes over her tiny fingers, marveling at how impossibly soft they feel. When she instinctively grips his pinky, a broken laugh escapes him, followed by another round of silent tears. He leans forward, pressing a reverent kiss to her forehead, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “I’m your papa.”

And just like that, his heart belongs to her.

Even when the nurses gently take her for checkups, his body tenses as he watches every movement, as if ready to jump up and protect her at any moment. He’s at your side immediately, his hand gripping yours, but his eyes never leave her. The second they place her back in his arms, he cradles her like she’s made of glass, like the entire universe exists within her tiny frame.

The world has faded away. It’s just her now—just the two of you, wrapped around William Eklund’s heart forever.

From the very first night, William is the most devoted father.

Late-night diaper changes? He’s up before you can even blink, moving with a surprising grace despite his exhaustion. He rocks her in his arms, humming a soft Swedish lullaby, his voice a gentle vibration against her tiny body. Even when she fusses, even when sleep is a distant memory, he never complains.

“Shh, älskling, Papa’s here,” he whispers, rubbing circles into her back, swaying gently in the dim glow of the nursery light. His lips brush over her downy hair, his expression one of pure, unwavering love.

Bathtime becomes a sacred ritual. He kneels beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves as he carefully washes her, his touch so delicate, as if afraid he might break her. When she kicks her little feet and splashes him, he laughs, a deep, genuine sound that makes her coo in response.

“Oh, so you think that’s funny, huh?” he teases, flicking a few droplets back at her. “You’re already causing trouble.”

Tummy time? He’s right there on the floor with her, stretched out beside her as he makes exaggerated faces and noises, determined to get a reaction. When she finally lifts her head for the first time, he gasps dramatically, clapping his hands.

“She’s so strong!” he exclaims, looking over at you like she just won an Olympic medal. “Did you see that? She’s a natural.”

But the real magic happens when she starts recognizing him—when her big, bright eyes light up at the sight of him. The first time she reaches for him with her chubby little hands, his heart nearly stops. And when she giggles—her very first laugh—it breaks him completely.

“Did you hear that?” he gasps, eyes wide with amazement as he turns to you. “She laughed! She thinks I’m funny!”

From that moment on, he becomes addicted to making her laugh. He makes the silliest faces, the goofiest voices, anything to hear that perfect little sound.

She’s his little princess, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

When she insists on wearing a tutu and fairy wings to the grocery store, he doesn’t even hesitate. He scoops her up, balancing her effortlessly on his hip, nodding seriously as she waves her imaginary wand over the vegetables.

“Oh no,” he gasps dramatically. “Did you just turn me into a frog?”

She giggles, tapping his nose. “No, Papa! You’re a prince.”

He places a hand over his heart, feigning relief. “Phew. I was worried there for a second.”

When she decides he needs a “makeover,” he sits cross-legged on the floor, letting her carefully paint his nails with bright pink polish. His hands are far too big for the tiny brush, and her strokes are uneven, but he never flinches—only smiles as she sticks her tongue out in concentration.

“She’s got a future in this,” he tells you, admiring his very messy, very pink nails. “Think she’ll give me a discount as her first client?”

He tucks her into bed every single night, no matter how exhausted he is, no matter how late he gets home from a road trip. The second he walks through the door, his priority is always her. He scoops her up in his arms, pressing kisses to her cheeks as she sleepily mumbles, “Papa…”

“I missed you, älskling,” he murmurs, settling her against his chest as he reads her bedtime stories. His voice is warm and animated, changing tones for every character, making her giggle.

“Again, Papa!” she pleads, her little hands tugging at his jersey.

He sighs dramatically, pretending to think about it. “Hmm…okay, but only because you’re so cute.”

Some nights, when she’s sound asleep, he sneaks into her room just to watch her, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. His heart swells in his chest, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you, älskling. Always.”

As she grew, his devotion only deepened.

He was the dad who carried her everywhere, even when she was big enough to walk, because “she likes being close.” He was the one who let her put tiny bows in his hair, who sat through tea parties with a tiara on his head, who held her little hand as they danced around the living room to her favorite songs.

“She’s got me wrapped around her finger,” he admitted to you one night, watching her sleep, her tiny body curled up against his chest.

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

William only chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Not at all.”

She’s two years old the first time she steps onto the ice.

Bundled up in layers, her tiny body almost swallowed by the oversized jacket you insisted she wear, she waddles onto the rink, her skates barely keeping up with her enthusiasm. William is right there, kneeling in front of her, his hands outstretched, ready to catch her at any moment. His eyes are soft, full of warmth and pride, even before she’s taken her first glide.

“You got this, älskling,” he coaxes gently, his voice full of encouragement as he steadies her wobbly frame.

Her tiny hands clutch his fingers so tightly, like she knows he’s her lifeline. Her brows furrow in determination as she plants her skates firmly on the ice, but balance isn’t her strong suit just yet. Within seconds, her legs slide out from under her, and she plops onto the ice with a soft thud.

William freezes for a moment, his breath catching, but then she looks up at him, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and giggles. The sound melts him completely.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” he teases, chuckling as he kneels down and helps her up, brushing imaginary snowflakes from her padded jacket. “That’s okay—we fall and get back up, right?”

She nods eagerly, mimicking the way he straightens his shoulders. “Again!”

And so they try again. And again. And again.

Every time she falls, William picks her up without hesitation, his grip steady, his encouragement endless. He makes a game out of it, playfully pretending to slip himself just to make her laugh. But when she finally manages to push off on her own, gliding a few inches before coming to a wobbly stop, she gasps in excitement.

“I did it!”

William lets out a loud cheer, sweeping her up into his arms, spinning her around in celebration. His laugh is bright, uninhibited, full of pride as he presses an exaggerated kiss to her cold nose.

“Did you see that, Mama?” he shouts over to you, eyes shining with pure joy. “She’s a natural!”

From that moment on, she’s not just his little girl—she’s his biggest fan.

Every game day, she dresses in her tiny Sharks jersey, the name EKLUND printed across the back in bold white letters. It’s a mini replica of William’s own, and it’s slightly oversized on her small frame, the sleeves nearly swallowing her hands. But she insists on wearing it, proudly pointing to the letters as she tells anyone who will listen, “Papa’s number 72!”

You take her to every home game, and as soon as you settle into your seats, she’s perched eagerly on your lap, bouncing with excitement. Her eyes scan the ice, searching for him, and the moment William skates out for warmups, she’s already pressing her tiny hands against the glass.

“Papa!” she squeals, her voice high and full of joy. She taps her fingers eagerly, trying to get his attention. “Look! It’s Papa!”

William always finds you both, no matter what. Even in the chaos of warmups, even with music blaring through the arena, his gaze instinctively searches for his girls. The second he spots her, his entire face softens, and he grins, skating toward the glass.

He taps his stick twice—his little secret signal just for her.

She squeals in delight, pressing her palm to the glass as if she can reach through and hold his hand. He presses his glove to the same spot, mirroring her, before giving you a wink.

The bond they share is undeniable. She watches him with complete fascination, her eyes never leaving him as he skates, as he passes the puck, as he moves effortlessly across the ice. She cheers when everyone else does, clapping her little hands, even if she doesn’t fully understand the game just yet.

But the moment she sees him on the big screen, her excitement reaches a whole new level.

“PAPA!” she shouts, pointing frantically at the Jumbotron. “Look! It’s Papa!”

You can’t help but laugh, pulling her closer as she beams with pride. The people around you smile fondly, watching her tiny body practically vibrating with excitement. And on the ice, William glances up at the screen, catching sight of her pointing wildly. He shakes his head with a grin, mouthing a quick I love you before refocusing on the game.

William never stops being her biggest supporter.

When she’s five, she has her first dance recital. She’s a bundle of excitement and nerves, dressed in a sparkly tutu, her hair curled perfectly for the occasion. William is right there, sitting front row, his phone up and recording every second like a proud dad who doesn’t want to miss a thing. You’re right beside him, your heart swelling with pride as you watch your little girl step into the spotlight.

“She’s gonna be great,” you whisper, squeezing his arm.

“She’s already great,” he replies, eyes locked on her as she takes her place on stage.

The music starts, and even though she misses a step or two, to William, she is perfect. He cheers louder than anyone in the room when the recital ends, clapping so hard his palms turn red. You can feel your own pride radiating from him, the warmth in his gaze as he watches her run up to him, still buzzing with excitement. He scoops her into his arms without hesitation.

“You were amazing, älskling,” he says, spinning her around. “A star, just like I knew you’d be.”

She beams up at him, holding tight to the flowers he brought her—tiny pink roses, because he knows they’re her favorite. “Did you really like it, Papa?”

“I loved it,” he promises. “I’ll always love anything you do.”

And he means it, his gaze soft as he looks between you both. It’s clear that his world is right here in this moment, with you by his side, and her in his arms.

No matter how tough or busy his days are, William is always there when she needs him. When she wakes up crying from a nightmare, she knows exactly where to go. She tiptoes into your room, dragging her stuffed bunny by the ear, sniffling softly. Without hesitation, she climbs into bed between you both, curling into her father’s warmth.

William stirs almost immediately, as if his soul is wired to respond to her even in sleep. He shifts, pulling her against his chest, his voice low and soothing.

“Shh, baby,” he murmurs in Swedish, rubbing slow circles on her back. “It’s okay. Papa’s got you.”

You smile softly at the sight of them, the way his hand instinctively moves to comfort her, knowing she’s safe in his arms. She hiccups a little, still caught in the remnants of whatever had scared her, but his steady voice and familiar embrace work faster than any lullaby. He hums softly, whispering words of reassurance, kissing the top of her head like he has since the day she was born.

Within minutes, she’s breathing evenly again, safe in her father’s arms.

And even though the bed is now a little too crowded, even though he has practice early in the morning, William wouldn’t change a thing. Because this is what being a dad is—being the one she turns to, always, and you’re right there with him, holding your daughter close, loving her as much as he does.

The morning she starts school, William is a mess.

She looks so small with her tiny backpack, her shoes barely making a sound as she shuffles toward the front door. She’s excited—practically bouncing with anticipation—but William? He’s not ready.

“She’s too small for this,” he says, running his hands over his face as he watches her zip up her jacket. “She’s still my baby.”

You laugh softly, lacing your fingers through his, squeezing gently. “She always will be.”

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

At drop-off, she turns to him, her big, curious eyes shining as she holds her arms up for one last hug. He kneels down, pulling her in tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo. You feel your own heart ache as you watch them.

“You’re gonna have the best day, älskling,” he tells her, voice thick with emotion. “And when you get home, you can tell me everything, okay?”

She nods, her little arms squeezing his neck. “Okay, Papa.”

And then, before he’s ready, she lets go.

He watches her walk inside, his heart clenching with every step she takes away from him. When the doors close behind her, he lets out a shaky breath, rubbing at his eyes.

“You’re crying,” you tease, nudging him gently, not bothering to hide the soft smile on your lips.

“No, I’m not,” he huffs, clearing his throat. “It’s just…dust. Or something.”

But the way he keeps staring at the doors says otherwise.

“She’s growing up too fast,” he mutters, shaking his head.

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “She’s got the best dad to help her through it.”

Years later, when she’s a teenager, William is still just as soft—just as devoted.

He’s the dad who stays up late, pretending he wasn’t anxiously checking the time when she’s out with friends. The moment he hears the front door creak open, he’s there in the living room, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow.

“Have fun?” he asks casually, like he wasn’t just worried sick.

She sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Papa. I’m fine.”

You watch William’s face soften as he breathes out. “Good.” Then, softer, “I just like knowing you’re safe.”

She smiles at that, knowing deep down that he’ll always be the one who cares the most.

William is the dad who takes her on coffee dates just to check in, who listens—really listens—when she vents about school or friends or life. He doesn’t judge—just offers quiet advice, a steady presence when she needs him most. And you? You’re right there with him, standing as a united front for your daughter, always ready to support her.

And he’s still the dad who hugs her just as tightly as when she was little, no matter how much she grows.

No matter how old she gets, she will always be his little girl.

The years pass, and one day, she’s not so little anymore. She’s walking across a stage in her cap and gown, she’s packing for college, she’s chasing dreams that once felt so far away. William watches it all happen, pride and heartache mixing in equal measure. You stand beside him, both of you reflecting on the little girl who once wobbled on skates, now standing tall, ready to take on the world.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that she was pressing tiny hands against the glass, cheering him on?

Time moves fast, but one thing never changes—his love for her, and the love you share for her, too.

Because William Eklund was born to be a girl dad. And no matter how many years pass, no matter how much she grows, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. And neither would you.

198 notes · View notes

peachhcs · 6 months ago

Text

a trip to van

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy spends a weekend in van with her two favorite people

4.5k words

hiii here's this that i've been working on for a few days. i thought this idea was super cutie and wanted to write more quinn and samy dynamic. also lowkey predicting that sjs vs. van game in a week so lol this won't be accurate but anyways let me know if u guys like these longer fics or not bc i think they're fun to write sometimes!! (also i imagine samy taking these pics of quinn and will)

au masterlist

"i actually can't believe you convinced me to let you stay for a whole weekend," the oldest hughes brother teased samy as they climbed into the car once her stuff was in the back.

"oh shut up. you've been begging to spend more time with me. plus, i haven't been to van in years," the younger sibling countered as they shared a laugh.

"yeah, you're right. you're right. it's good to see you, squirt," quinn squeezed her arm across the armrest as they pulled out of the pickup line.

it was thursday night and samy was in vancouver for the weekend to watch her brother and will play one another on saturday. she was ecstatic to say the least to be spending some time with quinn and getting to see will. it wasn't often that the oldest and youngest sibling spent 1 on 1 time together—in the summer if they were lucky, but even then, quinn had things keeping him busy and so did samy.

"mom told me you need to take me to a hundred different places while i'm here. she sent me a whole list," the brunette chuckled.

"oh really? like where?"

"apparently this bakery that sells really good bagels. there's an italian restaurant in downtown mom really liked that she wants me to try. i dunno, i'll send you the list," samy clicked around to add quinn to the note.

"alright, i'll have to check it out. is she expecting me to pay for all your meals this weekend?" the older boy hummed, amusement on his features.

"i mean i won't complain if you do. i am a broke college student," the younger brunette grinned.

"good thing i make millions," samy hit her brother's arm for that comment making quinn laugh out loud.

"you better stay humble for someone making 8.6 million a year," the girl mumbled, still unbelievable that her brothers were that rich for doing something they genuinely loved doing. she knew she'd never make anywhere close to that even if she did put in the same amount of work.

either way, she secretly enjoyed bugging and asking her brothers for things knowing how much money they had and that they could definitely swing helping her out with groceries here and there.

"plus, you got your boyfriend making a good couple hundred thousand. you're in good hands," quinn added and samy just flushed, rolling her eyes slightly.

"don't worry, i know. i've been told many times that i should just drop out of college and move to san jose because will can support us," he poked at her every time about it and sometimes samy also still couldn't believe her childhood best friend now boyfriend was rich enough to support her and she didn't have to do a thing. "don't worry, i got you, squirt. welcome to luxury for the weekend," quinn grinned as he leaned back in his seat and really embraced his millionaire status inside his expensive car and fancy sunglasses atop his nose.

—

later that night, samy sat in quinn's apartment on facetime with their parents plus jack and luke so they could see she made it in safely.

"i'm so happy you had a safe flight! how is it so far?" ellen wondered with a bright smile while quinn slipped into frame.

"it's been really good. quinn's been a really great host," she pinched her brother's cheeks making him push her hands away.

"damn, i'm so jealous i'm not in vancouver right now. it could've been a reunion!" jack exclaimed.

"hey you get to see will in like a week when he plays you guys in jersey," samy smiled a bit, sad that she couldn't fly out for that reunion.

"yeah, i guess. how's quinn's? has he made you his weird protein shake yet?" the middle hughes wondered while luke snickered.

"dude, it's not that bad, i swear. it gets me up in the morning," quinn rolled his eyes.

"oh it's bad, don't try gaslighting yourself. if he does make it, don't drink it. it had me on the toilet for an hour," jack mumbled while samy laughed and ellen and jim just shook their heads.

"well, i'm glad you've been having a good time so far. it's rare that i see my kids getting along on their own," ellen chimed in.

"hey! we get along! what are you taking about?" luke defended himself.

"mhm, yeah, sure you do," jim chuckled.

"we do! i swear. at least jack and i kind of get along better," the second to youngest sibling patted jack's arm and the two boys gave their most convincing smile.

"key word: kind of," samy chirped.

"oh shut up," luke rolled his eyes at his sister.

"there it is," quinn mumbled, concealing his laughter so their parents or luke wouldn't see.

"well, anyway, it's good to see my kids sort of together. you two have fun in van this weekend! i want lots of pictures and tell will we said hi!" ellen cheered, breaking up the bickering before it got worse. her kids smiled, all nodding.

"will do. love you guys," samy waved before disconnecting from the call.

quinn jumped up from the couch to continue making dinner. the siblings sat in comfortable silence for a moment until the older boy decided to keep talking, "so how have you and will been doing? okay?"

"yeah, we're good. we talk like every night. it's good," the brunette nodded.

"good, i'm glad. i'm happy you guys worked things out," quinn nodded in approval.

"yeah, me too. we're still..readjusting, but it's been easy i think now that will's had time to settle into california and the team."

"that's good. i mean it'll take time, but i'm glad to hear it's been easy," samy appreciated her brother's words knowing some may think she took him back way too soon and way too easily.

"thanks. what about you? have you found anyone or been seeing anyone?" she loved poking into her brothers' lives. it wasn't easy with quinn considering how closed off he was and how easy it was for him to hide things because he lived in a different country.

"funny, but no. i haven't really been seeing anyone," the older boy hummed.

"lameee, we need to get you someone. i mean don't you have like girls lined at your feet?" samy giggled, thinking about all the edits she saw about her brothers on tiktok.

"very funny. i'm just trying to work on myself. is that a crime?"

"of course not, but i feel like mom's looking for another daughter," the younger brunette teased a bit.

"she'll find one in jack's girlfriend. i have a feeling he's getting married first out of all of us," it wasn't too out of character for jack since he was the middle child and all.

"you think so?"

"i mean i don't know, but yeah. he likes jumping into those things," quinn chuckled.

"yeah, i could see it. i think it will be jack, you, me, then luke. or luke and i are switched and i'm last."

"you last? that's surprising."

"well will and i aren't getting married anytime soon. we wanna live a bit and establish ourselves before anything serious," samy nodded. she wasn't too big on getting engaged so soon anyways. it was probably the only thing she wanted to take her time with other than having kids. that was a way later thing.

"alright, fair. i guess i could say the same. i'm not looking for anything," quinn shrugged. he wasn't huge on any of those life milestones knowing he'd find his person when he was ready.

"do you think you're gonna stay in van forever?" samy changed the subject, leaning her arm across the back of the couch and resting her head down.

"i mean probably. i've got a good few years left in me. plus, i like it here. it reminds me of being a kid and growing up in toronto," the older brunette smiled.

"i kind of miss living in toronto. i basically grew up there, you know?" a good 12 years of samy's life was spent in toronto and they were probably some of the best years.

"yeah, i know. they were good years for sure. you could always go back, you know. move back up there," it was definitely something quinn thought a lot about whenever he did decide to retire from the ice. even though he loved michigan, those times in toronto would always call back to him.

it called back to all of the hughes siblings.

"yeah, maybe when i'm like forty and will's retired," the girl grinned and quinn nodded in agreement.

the rest of the night, the two watched some hockey highlights and then a movie before calling it a night. samy excitedly awaited will's arrival tomorrow afternoon where he was able to pull a few strings and fly out early to spend a bit more time with her and quinn.

—

the two siblings rode back to the airport to gather will while samy continuously checked his flight to see if he had landed yet.

"the plane's not getting any closer every minute you look at it," the older boy laughed, watching the way his sister constantly looked at the website.

"i know, i'm just excited," the genuine happiness was a good look on samy that quinn enjoyed seeing. he hated seeing her so sad this past summer, so he was glad her spirits were back up and she was her usual, bubbly self.

"does this mean i'm gonna be third wheel for the rest of the weekend?"

"no, i promise. we'll just be all gross and kiss when you aren't looking," the girl laughed to herself while quinn rolled his eyes.

"great, great. thanks for having some decency," the boy mumbled but he was secretly smiling.

they pulled back into the airport pickup line where quinn started getting serious deja vu from yesterday. the two of them sat in comfortable silence on their phones and listening to the soft hum of the radio in the background. a few minutes passed when samy began hitting her brother's arm repeatedly, her face glowing.

"his plane landed! he should be coming out," she squealed, jumping out of the car. quinn followed after, the two of them leaning against the side waiting for the blonde.

the younger brunette was bouncing on her heels, scanning every face that came through the doors knowing will was bound to walk through them any second.

finally, will came through, his big hockey bag slung over his shoulder, backpack strapped to his back and sharks hat to cover his messy hair. samy jumped up, running to greet her boyfriend in the middle where quinn couldn't help the smile on his lips.

will dropped his bag so he could lift samy into his arms, the couple spinning around in their bone crushing hug. "missed you," the brunette hummed, pulling back a bit once her feet were back on the ground.

"i missed you, too. its so good to see you," will's hold on her waist drew her in closer, admiring all of her features up close after only seeing them through a screen for months.

"i'm so excited you're here. this is gonna be so fun," samy grinned and pulled her boyfriend down for a kiss, not caring that they were in public or who was watching.

they melted into one another, lips and bodies molding together. quinn, who was watching the entire exchange, pretended to act disgusted which pulled the two apart.

"sorry to break up this reunion, but maybe save that for back at the apartment?" he raised his eyebrow. samy rolled his eyes while will flushed, letting the girl go.

"good to see ya, smitty. it's been awhile," quinn opened his arms for a quick hug.

"it's good to see you, too, quinn. thanks for letting me stay for the weekend," the blonde smiled.

"my apartment is your apartment. although the ice will be a different story tomorrow," the older boy teased a bit, laughing when he saw will pale a bit.

"just kidding. it's gonna be a good game tomorrow. i'm excited to play you and see what you got," quinn smacked will's shoulder and a bit of a nervous chuckle left the blonde's lips.

"alright, don't scare him. let's get back," samy broke them up, tugging them back to the car so they could stop taking up a spot.

—

once quinn and samy helped will get settled in, the oldest hughes brother let the couple have some time to themselves. they sat out on the balcony curdled up together enjoying the nice weather and city below. it was nice de-stressor for will before the game, too.

"so how do you like it so far? be honest," samy wondered, referring to will's time in the nhl so far.

"i really like it. it's like a dream come true," will said honestly which made the girl smile.

"i'm really glad. you look like you've been thriving."

"i do miss boston and the guys and my family and michigan and you though. it's not the same not having all of you an arm's length away," the blonde frowned briefly, thinking of the boys and his parents on the other side of the country from him.

"i get it. we miss you, too, but i'm glad you've been loving it so far. you've got a pretty big name to yourself now," samy giggled while will rolled his eyes a bit.

"just so you know, i'm only thinking of you when i do those press interviews," his words made the youngest hughes blush, burying her face into his shoulder.

"i actually can't believe all of you are in the nhl now. it still feels like yesterday listening to you guys talk about that dream in our living room, or pretending you were playing a real game back on our rink in toronto," all of those memories were still so fresh in their minds, it was hard to believe it was nearly 10 years ago.

"wow, i remember those days. i was always so excited to fly to canada to visit you guys because i knew i'd get to play hockey," will chuckled.

"back when you were more interested in seeing my brothers than me," samy teased.

"only because we were like nine and thought we were gross and had cooties," the blonde countered and the two shared a laugh.

"i was telling quinn yesterday that i miss being out there. i spent my whole childhood there."

"yeah, toronto holds a lot of good memories for us. i miss it too. maybe we can go back one day?" will raised his eyebrows while a little grin appeared on his girlfriend's lips.

"i had the same thought. i said maybe when you're retired and we're like forty or something," they both laughed again.

"forty? i don't know if i'll be playing for that long. i'll probably be done at around 30 or so."

"so thirty. we'll set our plan now," samy determined and will squeezed his arm tighter around her torso, kissing the top of her head.

"sounds like a great plan."

—

the next morning the apartment was buzzing with excitement mixed with nerves and adrenaline. quinn had to be at the rink in the late afternoon and will needed to meet up with his team, so the three spent the morning getting themselves ready. samy was a bit torn trying to figure out what to wear, wanting to support both will and quinn.

"what do you think?" she stepped out of the bathroom to show off her outfit—a jean mini skirt paired with one of will's sharks shirts that had his name on the back and one of quinn's many canucks hats.

will fell silent as he took in her appearance when she did a full spin. the gears in his head started turning and a feeling he hadn't felt in a while bubbled in his chest.

the whole idea of playing in the nhl was something will dreamed of forever. dating his best friend was another unimaginable dream and now the two were colliding and knowing samy would be in the arena wearing his number and his name so everyone would know she was his...the blonde's brain nearly stopped working.

"will?" samy snapped will from his daze.

"huh? sorry. you look..wow.." he mumbled, losing his train of thought as he snaked his hands around her waist, drinking in her outfit even more.

"what's that mean?" the girl chuckled, noticing her boyfriend's lustful expression.

"i just..i'm so lucky. you look good wearing my name," will dipped his head down to place a kiss to samy's lips.

he pulled her flush against his chest, hands wandering with a mind of their own. samy fiddled with will's loosely buttoned undershirt and other hand dancing into his curls. the hockey player's hands drifted further down her hips until he grabbed ahold of her ass and squeezed. she giggled at the action.

they pulled back for a second, panting into one another's mouths. will wanted more. he craved more and so did samy, so they reattached their lips. a soft moan escaped will when samy pulled particularly hard on his hair. her lips felt so good against his own.

"god, you're so gorgeous," will pulled back, lips tinted from samy's pink lip gloss.

"right back at ya, hot stuff," the brunette winked and will couldn't stop himself. he dove back in for more, the desire burning from his head to the tips of his toes.

he backed her against the wall of the bedroom where his lips started dipping further down onto her neck. samy moaned when will found her sweet spot almost immediately, tugging harder at the base of his curls.

"will...people are gonna see," she said but she didn't make any move to pull him away.

"good, let them see," he said, the possession clear in his voice and fuck, if samy didn't find that super attractive.

"we should stop. you have to go soon," she tried knowing he was due to see his team in thirty minutes.

"how soon?" the blonde mumbled, still attacking samy's neck.

"like thirty minutes."

"i can do it in ten," his words sent a rush of heat down the girl's spine, but she knew they couldn't. not now anyways.

"will, not now. later, i promise," she finally found the courage to pull him away from her. he looked back up, breath heavy and lips swollen in pink. he was such a sight to see that had samy wishing they didn't have to go.

"i'm keeping you to that promise then," will smirked.

a quick knock on the door caught their attention, the two of them tensing slightly. "yeah?"

"leaving in fifteen!" quinn called.

"be out soon!" samy yelled back, returning her gaze to her boyfriend's burning stare, placing one last kiss to his lips.

"you're gonna do amazing out there. don't be nervous. you know how quinn plays."

"i know, i know. just scared he'll rip me to shreds," the blonde mumbled with a low chuckle, samy going to help him get himself together as she buttoned up his shirt.

"even if he does, know he's trying to push you and help you get better," samy knew quinn wasn't going easy on will tonight, but she also knew he was gonna use all the tactics he knew that would push the blonde out of his comfort zone a little to get him to play harder.

it was how luke played on will too whenever they went head to head back in michigan.

the two finished getting ready, slipping out of the bedroom as quinn was making sure he had everything and everything was turned off before they left.

"nice touch," the older boy noticed his sister's hat, smiling a bit as he flicked it up.

"don't worry, i didn't forget about you," she cheesed as the three of them headed down to the garage.

quinn dropped will off around the back of the rink where the sharks were gathering in the locker room. the siblings wished the blonde luck before they drove back around to the front and the cameras and media were waiting for them.

"good luck, quinn. i'll see you later," samy smiled as she climbed out of the car.

"thanks, squirt. text me if you need anything before we get on," the two departed as samy headed to the doors and quinn headed towards the cameras to capture the player's game day outfits and walk up.

—

rogers arena was electric leading up to the game. samy had her spot just behind the canucks bench behind the glass where quinn wanted her incase she needed his attention or something—always looking out for his baby sister even during the game. the two waved to one another before samy searched for will doing his warmups. the black and dark teal was a nice addition to the away game jeresey's and she spotted her boyfriend a little bit further down.

the fans were excited for this matchup, canucks fans loud and eager to get the game underway against the two newest rookies on the sharks. macklin skated by, quickly waving to the brunette. she grinned, waving back and giving two thumbs up indicating good luck.

the game revved up quickly as quinn took to the ice against will in the first period. samy saw how much the sharks were improving with each game, but she knew the canucks still had the upper hand with their older players and more experience. she was on the edge of her seat watching her boyfriend and bother race towards the puck sliding across the ice.

quinn was up in will's business, pushing and shoving the younger boy for the puck, so will pushed back harder. the two were basically dancing with one another, the older hughes brother making will work for it.

some of the other canucks players bumped against the blonde and then in the next second, he was on the ground from a hit. the whistle blew, but will bounced back up, a little flustered but okay. it was a clean hit, so no penalties. samy sighed and then made eye contact with her brother as he skated towards the bench. cool off a bit her look said while quinn just shrugged, but he understood.

at the end of the first, canucks were up 2-0. samy texted her parents updates even though they were also probably watching. she sent quick messages to gabe and ryan as well as hannah.

gabe

ur brother's got killer aim

samy

tell me about it

he's making will work for it

ryan

figures

during every intermission, the cameras always panned to the players' family members if they were in the stands. when the jumbotron showed samy she quickly waved and pointed to her canucks hat. the fans cheered, always excited to see quinn's siblings or parents in attendance.

the second and third periods played out almost the same as the first. the guys were fast on the ice for the puck and scoring goals. canucks led now by 5-3 and samy knew this would be another loss on the sharks side. she knew it'd discourage the boys, but there was definitely improvement from last game. will got his stick on the puck a few times, passing to his line, but still not enough to over power the older guys on the canucks team.

when the game ended the fans cheered loudly for quinn's team. samy cheered for her brother too while also giving will and macklin a smile for trying their best. she knew press would take some time, so the girl mingled with fans as they left the rink and back into the lobby.

she enjoyed getting to talk to girls who looked up to her and parents who congratulated her on having a good soccer season so far, asking questions about conference games and the national title coming up soon.

will came out before quinn now showered and back in his suit. samy made her way over to him, giving him a loving hug and kiss on the cheek, "sorry you lost, but you played well."

"thanks, it's okay. i knew we would against quinn. he definitely pushed me though," the blonde chuckled.

"see, i told you. not too bad," samy grinned, squeezing his arm as the couple waited for quinn.

he came out a few minutes later, waving to the two. "press wants some pics of all of us around back. is that okay?" the older boy wondered while samy and will nodded.

they followed the older boy around the back where the media snapped a few pictures of the siblings and will together to share online later. once those were done, the three climbed back into the car to head back to the apartment, feeling exhausted from the long night.

quinn's ringtone started playing through the car as ellen's name lit up the screen. the older brunette answered, "hi mom."

"hey quinny, great game! you guys back at the apartment in once piece?" the older woman said.

"we're on our way back right now. samy and will are here."

"hi mom," the younger girl called.

"hi ellen," will said too.

"hi guys. sorry you guys lost, willie. you played really well, though. it can be tough with these big, old nhl players," ellen chuckled.

"mom, are you calling me old?" quinn cut in as samy giggled too.

"yeah, i am. just wanted to check in with you guys and make sure everyone had fun. any plans for tonight?"

the three exchanged a glance, the silence taken as probably nothing since the late game tired all of them out. "probably a movie or something. kind of beat," quinn answered.

"i bet. well, have fun guys! i'll talk to you soon. love you."

"love you too, mom," samy and quinn said in unison, giggles escaping both of their lips.

once they got back into the apartment, samy collapsed onto the couch, glad to be back in a warm temperatures and not on a frozen metal bench. will copied her movements, falling down beside her while quinn chuckled at their behavior.

"you guys can pick out whatever movie. want anything to eat?" the older boy wondered as he started shedding himself of his tie.

"whatever you wanna make, we'll eat," samy said.

"got it," quinn disappeared into his room.

"so one day this really could be our life," will hummed, breaking the small silence that had filled between the couple.

"it really could," the brunette agreed as her eyes flicked around her brother's apartment.

"only...2 more years?" the blonde raised his eyebrow.

"possibly depending on what career path i choose," samy reached up to mess with some of the misplaced curls hanging off will's forehead.

"sounds like a dream," the boy smiled warmly, moving so their heads were touching.

"yeah, for real."

will went in to press a sweet kiss to samy's lips, all the love in his chest feeling full and abundant. they pulled apart knowing quinn would come back out any second.

"also i think ryan and gabe wanted to facetime to say hey and talk about the game," samy giggled while the blonde playfully rolled his eyes.

"of course they did. don't forget about that promise you made to me earlier," the boy grinned as samy stood up to change into something more comfortable.

"oh, don't worry. i didn't forget," she winked, heading into the guest room leaving will to quickly follow after her.

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