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caitlinbueckers · 4 months

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take care.

caitlin clark x reader type beat PART 2!!!!!!!!

6.2k (what the fuck)

ok. Listen!!!!!! This is long time coming and also is a disgusting amount of words and dialogue and like weird subtextual angst masked with smut honestly it’s pure delusion on a page also ending only slightly abrupt bc it was unfathomably long sorry

wasn’t gonna make the sequel so in depth like ??? How’d this one shot turn into a fic 😐 no Clue but all i know is that insecure sort of self deprecative caitlin clark with this soft dominance of a reader combined with two bitches who won’t admit their feelings is my crack!!!! let me know if a part 3 is even needed or if yall even care teehee

no beta simply just vibes

ANYWAYYZZZZZ love u guys sorry that i suck!!!

two weeks.

it had been two weeks since you’d texted that number with your name, a simple contact, and she’d liked the message, and that was it.

it wasn’t like things immediately changed— you still, somehow, made your flight despite the throbbing headache that reverberated in your skull, and you still were able to make sure you didn’t leave a toothbrush or a stray apple watch charger in the hotel room but, miraculously, you find a way to not mention a single thing about your one night stand until you touch down at home; manchester, connecticut.

you tell your friends all about it— probably missing some implied understanding about nda’s— and pretend like it isn’t that big of a deal that one of the biggest basketball players for women’s college wasn’t knuckles deep inside of you only the night before.

but it’s a big deal. and you know it is.

like her breath, fierce and rampant with each spellbinding curl of her fingers, wasn’t startlingly still replaying in your mind, her mouth soaking in each warm, huff of air that you expelled in the form of a moan. like she hadn’t watched as she fucked you, dark eyes somehow impossibly darker as her biceps flexed, the line of thick, corded veins that traveled her muscular arms somehow jumping with each pump of her fingers inside of you.

that the same, somehow blushing girl that stood in the elevator had regarded you like something to be challenged, like something she could fight for. something she could win.

you didn’t forget a single thing. not in the way she leaned down over you as her fingers quickened their pace, the force of it eliciting grunts from caitlin’s mouth as she tore you apart, piece by piece, licking the remains as her teeth grazed over a nipple, the sensitive jut of your collarbone.

“so pretty,” she’d murmured against your skin, almost absently, like she didn’t even realize she’d said it. “you like that?” obviously, it went without saying that you did (very much), but really, you’d learned that she wanted to hear you say it. it was in the same way that - as she’d recounted to you drunkenly in a hotel bar that night - she needed to hear the audience cheer. that the fans hollering and shouting was when she felt like she was on fire. it was the external validation that urged her forth, amped her up, kept her alight.

somehow, you could see exactly how it applied to her then, her eyes quick to scan over your face— your lips, to kiss them, before she’d ask again, urgently, “you like how i fuck you? huh? tell me.”

you’d nodded furiously, words tumbling past your trembling lips, “y-es, fuck, yes—“ god, it would’ve been impossible to pull more than a few words from you with how wrought you are, body unrelentingly tense, shaking and weak until she’d coaxed another orgasm out of you, her name sounding broken on your tongue as her fingers slow, the unrelenting grind from the heel of her hand finally relaxing to ride you through it.

she was unforgivingly good with her fucking hands, you’d come to realize.

and yet, beyond all of that, much to your friends dismay, you don’t call her.

no, in fact, you mute her name on twitter and block the IOWA womens basketball page because it becomes suddenly like a frenzy. she’s everywhere, more than usual, like some sick sign from the universe and as much as it seems almost the complete opposite of how you really feel, you decide that you can never see her again.

it’s not like the sex wasn’t phenomenal, or that when it’s late and your hand sneaks into your pants, your imagination doesn’t always seems to conjure up tall, pretty girls with brown hair and green eyes, or that she didn’t completely captivate you from the moment she’d looked at you, dumbfounded and sheepish in an elevator with a blush staining her cheeks.

it wasn’t that. in fact, it was the complete opposite.

it was because the moment you’d seen a picture of her online after the fact, looking tougher than you knew she was, you’d realized that the last place you’d seen her was from between your legs, and it felt like a fucking soul crush.

because she was beautiful, and smiling, and playing up that celebrity, all-star mentality that you knew she could back up, but that you realized wasn’t her in the slightest. because now, you knew her— sort of— and saw her in ways that nobody else had— that you knew of. more so, that she’d learned your body in the span of a night and then just left, and somehow that just wasn’t fucking fair.

there was a shroud of mystery that surrounded her, even if she belonged to the world, to her supposed boyfriend, to everyone, really— way more than she ever belonged to you, even if just for a night.

so you go on about your life, and you pretend you don’t notice the draft is coming, or that soon, the already well known athlete was gonna be world renowned, taking her biggest leap to play professional, and you’d be nothing to her, nothing but the girl she’d screwed in a hotel room when she’d gotten too drunk after the final four.

and sure, you find solace in it. but there’s also this lingering, nagging feeling of being unfinished, like there’s still more. there has to be more.

so, no, you don’t call her.

but, somehow, you find last-minute tickets for the draft— which, in the grand scheme of things isn’t completely selfish. the moment you’d seen nika muhl and aaliyah edwards up for the league, you’d known that you were going to try for tickets. you just, probably, maybe, weren’t actually expecting to hookup with the projected top number one draft pick, either.

but you did, so, you buy them anyway.

you let your friends tease you for picking a dress that’s sorta slutty and for spending more time than you should doing your makeup at whatever hotel you picked in boston, only a few blocks from the draft.

all in all, it goes exactly how you expect. caitlin gets number one draft, which only slightly makes you antsy in your seat, thinking about the fact that she doesn’t know you’re there, that she doesn’t know you saw her win big and that she possibly could’ve been thinking about anyone fucking else. your favorites, nika muhl and aaliyah edwards, get teams that you’re more than happy to celebrate, and watch paige bueckers and azzi fudd get shoutout after shoutout. it’s good, it’s fun— but fuck it.

you think you miss her. maybe just her fingers, or her mouth, but you realize in a weird swell of recognition as the guests are ushered out, your head spinning back every few moments to see if you can catch a glimpse of her, that you do.

you miss the cait you’d met— you just didn’t know the one that sat in the room now.

then, it’s all sorta funny, in a way, considering the situation you find yourself in once everyone begins to disperse, limos and SUV’s pulled up and parked outside of the venue, crowds of fans standing around the barricades to sit for their favorite athletes to pile out of the doors, to go to some super elite, exclusive party that you knew you had no place at.

you don’t expect any special treatment, and you don’t expect a text or a call— which is good, because they don’t come.

no, actually, they don’t come until later.

later, after you’d spent the rest of the night in a nearby bar with a couple of girls you’d met leaving the draft. they’re funny and they’re nice, gushing about the picks, talking miles a minute about all their favorites and making you pretend that the tequila doesn’t burn just a tiny bit more when they mention caitlin’s name.

it doesn’t come until you’re showered, dressed in sweats and pleasantly drunk, scrolling through the shitty channels when your phone buzzes once, then twice, then three times and it almost makes you click the lock button, shove it over in assumption of your friends bothering you about an unsuccessful night to woo a pro athlete— but then it happens again.

you can’t really decipher what makes you look at the random assortment of numbers and it suddenly click. maybe it was because you’d spent the past few weeks in a complete back and forth, scanning over a crumpled napkin with the name ‘cait’ and these specific numbers beside it.

you know who it is, and despite yourself, your heart catches in your throat.

“hello?”

“you made it.” her voice is deeper than you remember, and it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks burn almost immediately. fuck.

“huh?” you play dumb, mostly because it’s more embarassing to admit that you’d came all this way for this, for the slim possibility that she’d fucking notice.

“tonight, i mean. you- i didn’t know— i didn’t know you were coming.” you stay silent, because what else is there to say? had she seen you?

but she continues, “you should’ve told me.” and then, “i, uh— i would’ve liked to see you.”

she’s pathetic, and so are you. a hand comes up to shove back your hair from your face, breath increasing only slightly. “i have a hotel, like, smack in the middle of boston if you’re… like, if this is an offer.”

now, she’s silent. there’s a shuffle on the other end, a murmur of a voice that you don’t recognize, before she’s back, her voice closer, softer. “yeah. yeah, i’d, uh, i’d like that.”

you open your mouth to say something, probably alcohol fueled and embarassed, but she’s speaking now, a bit quicker, “just text me, yeah?”

then the phone clicks, and for half a second, you stare at the home screen as if this couldn’t possibly be fucking real.

but it is, miraculously, and god, it makes you kind of fucking horny to think that she’s willing to see you at half past three in the morning, so your fingers fly over the keyboard in record time— a pin being dropped through imessage with a confirmed ping.

it’s fucking go time after that.

you find the lacy, practically nonexistent underwear you’d brought, forgo a bra entirely, and try to find something a little less boring than your sweatsuit, before you realize with a sickening realization that the revealing dress you’d worn for the draft was the outfit you’d expected to see her in, and as much as you cared, you kinda fucking didn’t— she’d been inside of you, by now. clothing didn’t seem as pressingly urgent as it would otherwise.

it’s only about twenty minutes before she texts you, a simple ‘here’. you send a brief message, just the number of your hotel room, and pretend like your heart doesn’t practically pound out of your chest for each passing moment, eyes flickering from the door, to the window outside, the city bustling even at a time like this.

she knocks only twice, and it startles you enough that it takes your breath away.

the moment the door swings open, it’s like a wave of calm washes over you, a weird sense of solace that you hadn’t realized she could offer, mostly due to the fact that before you stood the caitlin you’d remembered from all those weeks ago, after final four. not the exquisitely dressed, superstar you’d seen earlier that night, in shades and clothing that you could never afford with an attitude you didn’t recognize.

instead, she stands before you at her startling height, in sneakers, sweats and a windbreaker, a hood over her head and her hands tucked into her pockets. once again, looking impossibly small for someone of her stature and it takes all that’s within you to not kiss her right there.

“you got here quick.” you mention, still only slightly breathless as she offers a smile that resembles more of a smirk than anything else.

“i was scared you’d fall asleep,” and it sounds as sheepish as it makes you feel.

you step back, let her walk in and inhabit the space, only slightly making your palms sweat to have her here, in front of you again.

you decide to take the initiative to plop onto the bed, looking up at her as you toy with a stray string from your hoodie, “i wasn’t gonna fall asleep,” you retort, looking up at her, catching a glance that you don’t break, “congrats on top draft pick.”

now, she’s blushing, shaking her head and pursing her lips, “still feels unreal, dude.” she murmurs, looking down at her feet before slowly, her movements unsure, she sinks onto the bed next to you. “you’re unreal.” you say quietly, smirking at her, because you know how she’d cringe at it, scrunches her face before shaking her head. “god, not by a long shot.”

you open your mouth to say something else, maybe tease her about it, but she clears her throat quietly, “but i don’t, uh- wanna talk about that right now?” she offers a mirthless laugh, “is that stupid?”

she turns to look at you, and it happens to only be a couple centimeters from your face once you look up, shake your head “then we don’t have to.” you agree quietly, and it’s impossible to miss the way her eyes flicker down at your lips, back up to your face, and it’s equally as impossible to ignore the flip you get in your stomach before you surge forward to kiss her.

she kisses the same, tastes like what you remember, if not marked by whatever cocktails she must’ve had, whatever liquor still sat on your own breath, and it washes over you greedily that you do fucking want her— more than whatever you tried to convince yourself of during the past two weeks, more than what you’d downplayed to your friends.

“been thinking about you,” it comes out rushed, murmured against caitlin’s lips, shakily from your own mouth as she lets out a slow, wanton breath. you turn to crawl up on your knees, swinging over her hips to push her back against the bed.

she makes a noise like it stems from disbelief, almost like denial, but doesn’t pull away, not even once as her hands, fingers long and palms wide, spread beneath your sweatshirt, span across the expanse of your back and grasp.

“i did,” you insist between breathless kisses, foreheads pressed together hard as her hand races up the front now, over your stomach, palm your breasts and elicit a pitchy gasp from the immediate contact of her cold hands to your sensitive nipples, “every fucking day.”

“shut up,” she denies it again, which only slightly irks you because as cliche as it felt to say during a makeout, it’s not like you would lie about how much you’ve craved this— or more specifically, her.

you try to really expand on the thought, but it becomes almost impossible when her lips attach to your jaw, suckling until her teeth are teasing the sensitive, thin skin beneath your ear, and you make a noise too embarrassing to recount before you can gather your words. “…missed you.”

caitlin makes a noise in her own throat, something between a growl and a groan as she arches her hips up slightly to press against you, before she shakes her head, pulling back only to look up at you from your position on her lap with this sick, almost torturous gaze. her eyes are lidded and feverbright, cheeks pink, and lips glossy, kiss-bitten.

“you shouldn’t think about me.” it comes out quick with her breath, her thumbs still slow in the circles they rubbed around your nipples, making your head arch back with a whimper before you swallow hard, her words almost too quiet to hear, “not worth it to think about.”

the admission surprises you, “fuck off, clark.” you snort, the words fall lazily out of your mouth, “so humble, huh?”

she gets hot at that, and you can tell from the way her face is pressed into your neck, the way a heat radiates from her cheeks right at that moment that makes your stomach swirl, your own hands coming up to tangle into her hair.

“…i‘m serious.” she insists, still mouthing against the same area of skin that you knew would be bruised, and pretend like her totally incognito, self deprecative words weren’t somewhat confusing and worrying you.

she was fucking perfect, didn’t she realize that? how could she not when practically everyone else in the world thought the same? maybe you were being dramatic or maybe you were just horny, but it felt achingly real in the moment that she knew that, even if she wouldn't listen, even if you'd have to show her instead.

“cait, i’m fucking serious.” you counter now, using the hands in her hair to tug, exploring the reaction that it elicits, which is something that apparently caitlin enjoys by the soft whine that jumps from her throat, the way her breath quickens, the wide eyed look she gives you.

it makes your head spin, your thighs clench involuntarily. she seems so fucking innocent, and yet, all knowing at the same time.

“is that… bad?” you continue, your own head ducking to latch your lips against her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath your teeth, “that i… touched myself and thought of you?” maybe it was the cocktails or the fact that this could be the last fucking time you see her, but it’s like word vomit— every thought and emotion that comes to you is spoken without hesitation, and apart of you wonders where you’d gotten such newfound bravery.

caitlin must be wondering too.

“not bad,” it comes out of her weak, weaker than she is right now, melting under your mouth and the tight grasp you have on her dark hair, the way each strand twines around your fingers to where even the most minuscule move of your fingers elicit a huff or a sigh, “it’s… fucking hot, what the fuck.”

it fuels you, in some way, to hear her validation. for some reason, you don’t try to hold off much longer— your own sweatshirt is being pulled off in record time, tangled in your arms momentarily and flung across the room as you go to reach for hers, “off?” you hum in the midst of the movement, to which she nods, quickly, obedient and yet, so unruly.

she was a dichotomy of everything she stood for. a shy girl pretending to be a superstar, and yet, even in moments like this, quiet and intimate, it felt like a superstar pretending to be shy. you knew just how easily she could unload, dominate the situation— pin you down by your wrists and eat you out within an inch of your life, because she had.

but now, she’s relenting, and it makes something within you burn, strengthening wildly to try and tame that beast that you knew sat fervent beneath her skin, to try and prove that caitlin didn’t always have to be caitlin clark, she could just be this.

just a pretty girl you wanted to fuck.

besides, maybe you were making up for lost time, returning favors you’d been too drunk and blissed out to give the first time around when she’d finished you off with fucking ease.

as soon as she’s exposed, her black sports bra yanked off with little effort to reveal her breasts beneath, pale and dotted with freckles, a red line from the band of it standing starkly against it, you find your mouth lowering to suckle on a spot near her nipple, teasing against the bud and licking gently at the skin until you hear her breath increase, breaking only slightly into a whine that makes you swallow hard.

you pull away, just to look at her— dark eyebrows furrowed, focused in a concentration that you can only discern as someone fighting for the need to control, to dictate, to display the same use of her strategic authority that she’s used time and time again on the court.

you decide in that moment, that you won’t let her.

“let me take care of you?” it comes out softer than you mean it to, and you can see the trust building within her, slow to register as safe— and you don’t blame her.

you both are practically strangers, knowing nothing of each other than drunken conversation that had turned too deep, nothing but the sound the other made when they came, the faces they made. it was intimately unfamiliar, and perhaps that’s where caitlin had found the solace.

maybe she knew that at this point in her career she wouldn’t have normalcy. it was practically impossible for any person knowledgeable in sports to not know her, or even just of her. to a further degree, even most, with the exception of being well versed in women’s sports, had at least heard of her, and that was simply a piece of herself that had been taken, one she’d never be able to retrieve.

but this, this might be the one standing, single piece of lucidity and realness that was hers— locked away in a hotel room in a city unfamiliar to the both of you, and it’s enough.

it’s enough for now.

“you wouldn’t even text me back.” she counters, but it’s clear in her tone, regardless of how ragged, that it’s to prod at you, and it works.

“shut up.” you murmur as you press your hands to her shoulders, push her back against the bed to straddle her fully as you brush your thumb over her abused nipple, reddened and too easy to bruise. she moans when you press on it, and it elicits a smirk to your face that’s impossible to hide. “you’re here now, aren’t you?”

for some reason, it causes a sad sort of smirk to her face that’s impossible to miss, regardless of how quickly she covers it with an exhale of want, one that you know isn’t feigned, “where else would i be?”

there’s a million answers to that. press, interviews, sleeping, with her fucking boyfriend, but you settle for a small smile, “good point.”

you hope it centers her a little when the bruising press of your fingers translate into something gentler, more of a caress against her chest that you trail up to her face, and it almost twists something inside of you to see the way her face relaxes, leans against it as if it was some type of treatment or medicine to some ailment you weren’t aware of.

you go to pull away, to begin working at the ties on her sweatpants to unwravel her even more, lost in the softness of the moment and yet still blinded by the hazy lust until she speaks, quiet and barely there.

“did you really think about me?”

it stuns you for half a second, because the simple confession hadn’t registered to you as something she’d recall, something she’d look to expand upon.

but you’d always been honest, brutally so.

“yeah,” you say it as if it was obvious, when truly it wasn’t, and more so, probably wasn’t reciprocated, “i had fun,” a gross understatement, a weak replacement for all that you really wanted to say. then, if not a bit more revealing of your inner voice, “didn’t you?”

caitlin makes a noise that resembles a huff, but it’s not impatient, it’s honest. you wonder how often she gets to do that. “you know i did.” it comes out like an admission of guilt, under her breath, yet her eyes are unrelenting as they are sincere and it makes your eyebrows lift.

it makes your breath halt slightly, “is… not having fun in your contract or something?” you lace it with a quiet chuckle, mostly because you don’t want to make it too deep, too revealing to ask, but part of you thinks it’s expanded beyond that already, had been since she'd called you at three in the morning, just to say that she'd seen you, that she wanted to see you again.

her hands rise from her sides to rest against your thighs, and the touch is welcome, one that you relax into before she manages a half smile, “might as well be.”

but then, you see that surge of confidence again, something in her eyes glimmering as she squeezes at the skin of your thighs, hard, but your eyes remain fixed, even as hers drop, almost shy in her show of strength. “it’s why… i’ve thought about you like, everyday since... final four?”

that certainly makes your breath halt, invoking a reaction in your stomach and between your legs that you choose to ignore as you swallow, thumb still slow in its brush against her cheek.

“yeah?” it comes out of you rough, and she grants you with a nod as a response, then, after only a moment, she whispers, an echo to your words from before. “so... is it bad that i missed you too?”

“god, shut up.” you repeat again, as if somehow that was a valid response to being told such a thing by a girl you’d only had met twice, by a girl you knew nothing about.

you wanna ask her a million questions, know anything and everything: ask her if she’s actually into girls, if she’s actually into her boyfriend. mainly, if she’s actually into this pedestal that she’d been thrust into, if the fame was too much, maybe if it was never enough.

but you settle for shutting her up for now, because you can see the way her chest rises and falls rapidly, can hear the strain that it took to admit, and you realize, selflessly, that maybe you won’t let yourself ask for more.

not now, anyway.

instead, you lean up, uncharacteristically tender as you slide your lips against hers, feels the way she relents against you, slow and subservient.

“can i show you how bad i missed you?” your fingers tease the edge of her sweatpants, and she lets out a creaking groan, head tilting back and eyes closing as if in exasperation, before she nods. “please.”

you get right to work.

it takes only a little bit of adjustment to get her pants off of her long legs, to reveal the simple pair of black boy shorts that she wore, before you can finally tease a finger against the soaked fabric, reveling in the wetness that you knew matched your own.

her hips jump up, caged in only by your legs as you arch your middle finger, riding the knuckle against her heat, watching the way her face twists only slightly, lips parted in silent noises that you wish you could beckon out of her.

it is fun, you realize in the back of your mind, to pull her apart like this. without the inebriation clouding your mind from the last time, you feel almost startlingly cognizant of your own movements, of her reactions.

when you finally pump your middle finger into her, you notice the way her stomach and abs flex involuntarily, the way her voice pitches up and almost keens in her throat, catching with every stuttered inhale.

when you lean down to press your lips against the slickness of her cunt, press the pad of your tongue to her clit, she says your name— loud. it’s something mixed between a whine and a plead, long, dexterous fingers tangling into your hair and holding on tight.

you devour her, tongue slow to slide against her slick folds, to feel the surge of wetness spill out around your fingers, mixed with your own saliva. you drink her in like she’s a potion, or an elixir, something that you swear you can find and savor if you just go deeper, harder.

it isn’t until you feel her thighs tense, clamping around your head as she lets out a sound close to a gasping breath, marked with a moan that makes your head spin— she sounds so fucking desperate, and you’re bound and determined to give her exactly what she wants. what she deserves, really.

she comes on your fingers, in your mouth, and you relish every bit of it, quick to clean up the excess with fervor. she’s sensitive still, her breath huffing out whenever you breach too close to her clit, but you’re gentle. that’s what this was all about, right?

it’s quiet after the storm, your wrist sore and mouth wet as you sit up a bit, eyes careful to observe how hard her chest rises and falls. the way her hair, having fallen from its loose bun, sat in messy waves around her face, nothing like the impeccably straightened strands you’d seen at the draft, and it sort of makes you smile in an off handed way that you can’t explain, especially not when she opens her eyes finally to look at you.

“quit.” she says, and there’s a smile, tired and breathless, teasing at her own mouth as the hand that had fisted your tangled locks finally released, dragging down the side of your head to push your chin away lightly,

you can’t help but snicker, raising a brow, “what?” she rolls her eyes, and you repeat yourself, this time with a snort, “sorry, you’re just— you just look pretty like this.”

it’s hard to pretend that something inside of you doesn’t wince when her smile drops slightly, and you pretend like it isn’t uncommon to compliment the stranger you just ate out with such sincerity and honesty.

she’s slow when she says it, “...you always look pretty.” and it sounds wistful, murmured in a way that you can’t help but flush a bit at, as you roll your eyes now as if to return the favor, “you’ve only seen me twice, drunk, in sweats.”

but for some reason, that makes her smile return and for half a second, you let yourself pretend.

that maybe, this random series of hookups between you two weren’t fueled by some weird attraction slash escapism slash secret infidelity that had to be shared between you, or tucked away from the world. for half a second, she wasn’t caitlin clark, women’s basketball superstar, future member of the indiana fever.

she was cait, a girl you’d met at a bar that you’d hooked up with who just happened to see you again, and maybe, if you were a little dumber, and maybe a bit drunker, you’d admit to yourself that there’s a part of you that likes her, and each time you’d thought about her in the past few weeks, it had become achingly apparent.

but, you’re smarter than that, and definitely not drunk enough, so you pretend that her next words don’t make your heart skip multiple beats, as if it doesn’t cause a flutter in your chest.

“still,” she scoffs, and she’s sitting up a little, her hand having laid lazily against her stomach, reaches over to grasp your wrist, almost absently, “plus, i saw you earlier tonight, in that dress?”

it shouldn’t make you almost stunned into silence, but it fucking does.

“sorry— not to like, be weird and say i was looking for you but, i dunno, i just— i remember you saying something about UCONN, so i just assumed you'd be ther—“

you’re kissing her before even you can register what she’s saying, or why she says it all in this shy, almost sheepish tone that fills you with a flood of endorphins, butterflies being set alight inside of you.

“god, you’re so…” you’re not sure where you’re going with it, but you can’t help the way your hand comes up to hold the side of her face, dip your thumb against her bottom lip as if to make her taste herself, all as your eyes watched, lidded and fixed.

then, you exhale, only a whisper, “i’m gonna get you in trouble.” you manage to say, despite the very obvious fact that watching her suck on your finger is doing unspeakable things to you, before you drag the wet digit out, her bottom lip pulling only slightly.

“with who?” she says it almost as if you both know the answer, both thinking about the multitude of bigger names and bigger people who had long since been the determinant in caitlin’s career— at least from the little that you knew— and it lapses you both in a measured silence.

until she speaks, and it’s quiet, and sincere. “you’re just like… the only thing in my life right now that has nothing to do with basketball.”

it's a compliment, wrapped up in something a lot more sad, a lot more sincere. it shouldn’t make you want to hug her, but it does, so, you do.

your arms twine around her neck slowly, your face lowering to bury against her neck, just beneath her chin, and you can feel her chest vibrate slightly with a chuckle or a laugh, before her arms are around you, squeezing you tight, “don’t go all sappy on me, dude.” she murmurs, but it’s present in the way she doesn’t pull from it, or really, the way she fucking clutches onto you, almost desperately, that you pretend once again that this doesn’t mean anything. that this is traditional, hookup behavior, and that once she leaves this hotel room, everything will shift right back into place.

a place where caitlin clark gets to be caitlin clark and you get to be you, and there’s no overlap.

except, that doesn’t happen.

no, instead, once you pull away from the hug she kisses you again, hungrier this time, her hands sliding from your back to your hips so she can hook fingers in the edge of your panties, urging you to sit up on your knees so she can pull them down.

instead, she lets you ride her thigh— both hands firm and strong, her own biceps lfexing to keep you glued to her thick, muscle corded thigh, your cunt unforgivably wet as she dragged your hips down, over and over.

your head tips forward to press to her forehead, and she kisses you through each desperate cry that escapes your lips, the friction and slide becoming wetter, slicker by the moment, drawing these high pitched noises from your throat that you know caitlin is drinking in, all while she murmurs to you in this soft little voice, “show me good it feels, lemme hear you.”

in the end, you both pass out there, somewhat in a laying position as caitlin lays on her back, arms loosely wrapped around you, who’s laying stomach down atop of her, a thigh lazily hiked up to hang against her hip, your face pressed into her neck.

it’s fucking bizarre when you think about it.

how you both had talked more than you ever had before, and when you look back on it in the morning, nothing but a ghostly reminder of her presence by the sheets that lay strewn about, the undeniable smell of sex and sweat that still hung in the air, you pretend like you don’t realize just how little you still knew about her, and just how much that you wished you knew.

you also pretend like you don’t miss her, or that when you’re gathering your clothes to check out, a soreness in your body unlike one you’ve really ever felt, you’re practically stunned to see her faded, gray, IOWA shirt, thrown lazily over the desk chair that makes you wonder just how accidental it was for her to leave it.

you wear it anyway,

it isn’t until you make it back to connecticut, making up some excuse for your friends as to how you hadn’t been able to meet up with caitlin, how she’d been too busy anyway and you’d spent the night drinking at a bar, that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that wanted to keep her protected, confidential.

maybe it was the post-sex fueled lust that wanted you to keep it close to your chest, a dirty secret only for you to enjoy, or maybe it came from somewhere softer, somewhere that remembered how caitlin had such little privacy, that it almost hits you like a pang just how much you wanted her to still have that, even if it was at the expense of not seeing your friends faces when you told them that you guys had hooked up, again. even if she'd never know that you didn't say a word.

fuck it. it’s the least you could do.

you try not to think about her for days really, not until you’re doing laundry and come across the grey t-shirt, deciding only then that you’d pull up your goddamn bootstraps and finally send a message.

it’s cheeky, the wrinkled t-shirt thrown on over your underwear, leaving your thighs on display and the peek of a hip that you know is intentional before you snap a picture, sending it with little hesitation, and subsequently throwing your phone afterwards at the bed.

“you left something”

cc loved your message, “you left something”

“i know”

“guess i’ll have to come get it back”

it’s stupid, you know it is, but it makes you smile, typing with an urgency only known when texting back the pretty girl you like, before you send it, bottom lip teased between your teeth.

“how close are you to connecticut?”

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark smut #wcbb x reader #guys is this gonna become a series #im scared #caitlin clark

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justlemmeadoreyou · 5 months

Text

intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

summary: harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension?

words: 6k

warnings: smut, fluff. p in v sex (on the ice rink 🤭), kissing, dirty talk, cursing, creampie.

Harry tied the laces on his hockey skates tightly. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of practice. He could hear sounds coming from the rink - ice being scraped by skates, pucks hitting the boards, the coach's whistle. Harry gave his laces one final tug before grabbing his stick.

He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. The chilly air made goosebumps form on his arms. The rink was like a second home to him. Hockey wasn't just a sport - it was a huge part of who he was.

"Harry! Get out here!" one of his teammates yelled from the rink. They had already started drills.

Harry grinned and headed out of the locker room. The cold air hit his face. He breathed it in deeply. The icy smell, the rubber pucks, the sweaty aroma - it all felt comforting to Harry. To others it might smell bad, but to him it smelled like the game he loved.

Harry stepped onto the ice and immediately relaxed. Gliding across the smooth surface, he fell in line with his teammates. They were doing intense drills - racing across the ice, passing pucks back and forth. Harry focused hard, practicing his puck handling, skating agility, and wrist shots.

"Keep it up, Styles! Work hard and you'll make it to the big leagues one day!" Coach Bradford yelled from the bench in his gravelly voice.

Motivated, Harry accelerated with a burst of speed. He weaved through cones and ripped slapshots on goal. By the end, he was drenched in sweat, hair matted to his forehead.

Finally, the coach's whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Harry stayed out, picking up scattered pucks, while his teammates headed off the ice. Their skates dug trenches as they went.

"Coming for pints later, Styles?" one of the guys called out to him with a grin.

"Think I'll stay and get some more practice in," Harry replied, already lining up pucks.

His friend chuckled and shook his head. "Course you will, ya hockey nut!"

Harry smiled to himself as he readied his stance at the face-off circle. He took some calming breaths, then launched slapshot after slapshot. Hockey was his happy place.

Suddenly, the sound of classical music echoed through the rink. Harry looked up, distracted, and saw a figure gliding onto the ice. It was Y/N, looking like an ethereal vision in her shimmery white skating outfit.

Harry had seen Y/N around the rink before, but had never really paid attention. Now, he found himself utterly transfixed as she began gracefully spinning and leaping across the ice. Her every move was mesmerizing.

From his side of the rink, Harry gaped at Y/N in awe. He gripped his stick tightly as she performed effortless jumps and intricate spins. Her dance across the ice was like a carefully choreographed masterpiece.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. He watched, slack-jawed, as she launched herself into a triple lutz, rotating three times in the air before landing smoothly. Her practice was spellbinding.

Y/N finally caught Harry staring at her from across the way. A flush spread over her cheeks, obvious even from a distance. She looked surprised to have an audience.

The tension broke when a rogue puck trickled across the ice, coming to a stop by Y/N's skates. She glanced down at it, then back at Harry.

"S-Sorry, didn't mean to bother you," Harry called out, feeling sheepish.

But Y/N just gave him a shy smile that dazzled him. "No worries, the rink's for sharing."

And just like that, the Hockey stud and the figure skating beauty shared their first interaction and smiles across the expanse of frozen ice.

Over the next few nights, Harry intentionally stayed late after hockey practice. Sure enough, Y/N was always there too, gracefully practicing her routines to soaring instrumental music.

At first they kept their distance, staying on opposite sides of the rink. They exchanged polite hellos and "excuse me's" anytime they ventured close.

But Harry couldn't resist furtively watching Y/N whenever she attempted a jump or spin. The way she commanded the ice captivated him. Her movement was powerful yet delicate, athletic yet graceful.

For her part, Y/N tried not to overtly gape at Harry as he drilled his hockey skills. But it was difficult to ignore his intensity and ferocity as he powerfully strode across the ice, ripping slapshots or stickhandling between cones.

Little by little, over those next evenings together, Harry and Y/N started making small adjustments. They angled their practices closer and closer to the center of the rink. Neither commented on it, but some unseen force seemed to be drawing them in from opposite ends.

One night, as Y/N spun directly in front of where Harry prepped pucks, he gasped audibly. "Wow..."

Y/N looked up, making accidental eye contact. Their gazes locked and she couldn't help but give him a tiny, coy smile before whipping around seamlessly into her next spin sequence.

Mesmerized, Harry felt his heart thump in his chest. He knew firsthand how much work went into athletic excellence like Y/N's skating. But there was also an indescribable artistry to the way she moved in tune with the music. It was spellbinding.

Harry was shaken from his trance by a puck smacking his shinguards. "Earth to Styles! You still with us, mate?" one of his teammates chirped with a grin from the bench.

Embarrassed to be caught ogling, Harry just sheepishly rubbed his neck. Over the past week of sharing the rink with Y/N, he had definitely lost some focus during team practices.

He took a steadying breath and refocused on drills with renewed intensity. But even as he rejoined his linemates, he couldn't stop sneaking peeks through the corner of his eye at the lithe figure skater.

Later, just as the music crescendoed to a finish, Harry heard the distinct whisper of skates approaching him. He turned to find Y/N gliding to a stop nearby, cheeks delicately flushed from exertion and wispy hairs stuck to her neck with perspiration.

"You have really great puck control," she remarked shyly.

Harry's mouth went a little dry at her proximity and floral scent mixing with the icy air. "Th-thanks. And your skating is just...amazing."

Y/N let out a tinkling laugh at his flustered words. "Actually, I was going to ask if maybe you could give me some hockey tips sometime? It could really help with my edgework and connecting to the ice."

"Yeah, seriously? Of course!" Harry eagerly agreed before she even finished asking. He would've said yes to virtually any request to spend more time around this entrancing girl. "But uh, I should warn you...I'm a pretty intense coach," he added with a lopsided grin.

Y/N just playfully rolled her eyes. "I can definitely handle you."

She skated backwards a few strides, flashing him a brilliant smile that made his heart flutter. "So I'll see you out here again tomorrow night then...Coach?"

Harry nodded, unable to contain his own wide smile. "It's a date."

A strange new energy seemed to crackle between them in the cold rink air. Harry's gaze lingered on Y/N as she glided off elegantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic sway of her hips beneath her gossamer skating skirt.

As soon as she disappeared into the locker room, Harry let out a long exhale he didn't realize he'd been holding. He felt completely bewitched by this girl - her beauty, her talent, her effortlessly disarming presence.

For years, hockey had been Harry's sole obsession, his all-consuming priority. But in this moment, he could feel another obsession taking hold - one with this sublime, mysterious figure skater who had seemingly materialized into his life.

Gathering up the scattered pucks, Harry definitely sensed that tomorrow's "hockey lesson" was bound to be interesting...

***

The next evening, Harry arrived at the rink extra early, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. His stomach was doing bizarre somersault twists - an unusual sensation for him before stepping out onto the ice. Normally the rink was his haven, the one place he felt most at home and at peace. But tonight, he was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.

Harry had been distracted all day, struggling to focus during classes and his morning workout at the gym. Tonight's private "lesson" with Y/N kept replaying over and over in his mind like a maddeningly catchy song stuck on repeat. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the prospect of helping her with hockey drills made him so jittery. It's not like he'd never tutored teammates or younger players before.

But something about the thought of being alone on the ice with the lithe, beautiful figure skater sent Harry's heart fluttering in a way he'd never experienced. Usually so self-assured and confident, Harry was uncharacteristically self-conscious as he laced up his skates tonight. He fussed over making sure his wild chestnut hair didn't look too disheveled, and discreetly applied some of his musky cologne before leaving the locker room.

Stepping out onto the dimly-lit rink, Harry gave himself a little pep talk to quell his inexplicable nerves. "Come on, Styles, get it together. It's just a bloody skating lesson, for fuck's sake. You've been playing hockey since you could walk! What's there to be nervous about?"

But then his breath hitched as he spotted Y/N already out on the ice, gently coasting along with her arms hugged around herself. She seemed to almost glow in the soft lighting, a breathtaking vision in her sleek athletic attire that clung to every tantalizing curve. Her lithe form effortlessly flowed with each stride across the smooth ice.

Sensing she wasn't alone anymore, Y/N slowed to a stop and turned to face Harry with a shy smile. "Oh! Hey there, Coach. Shall we get started then?"

"Y-Yeah, of course! Let's do this," Harry replied with an overcompensating bravado, giving his head a little shake as if to dispel his nerves.

Y/N giggled at his awkward bravado, the tinkling sound making Harry's heart skip a beat. "Don't look so tense! It's just me."

Her teasing only made Harry feel more flustered as a smile tugged at his lips. "Exactly. It's...just you."

They both let those words hang there heavy between them for a moment, their eyes locked together across the wide ice. Then, as if through unspoken agreement, they simultaneously broke into laughter at their own silly tension.

"Right, okay then! Let's start with some basic stickhandling and power skating drills," Harry finally announced in his best "coaching" voice, scooping up a few pucks.

"Lead the way, Coach Styles!" Y/N gamely agreed with a grin.

For the next little while, some of Harry's nerves settled as he fell back into that familiar pattern of running drills, feeling assured and authoritative in his element. He put Y/N through a series of intense stickhandling routines - dribbling the puck between complicated cone patterns, making tight turns while handling the puck in circles, deking around obstacles with fast crossovers.

To her credit, Y/N worked diligently and didn't complain once, even when sweat began dampening her brow. Her exceptional skating prowess and coordination definitely helped her pick up hockey skills quickly. But the occasional fumbles and slips still drew some gentle teasing from Harry.

"Not quite, figure skater! You've got to keep your edges lower on crossovers," he tutted, flashing her a smirk as she wobbled slightly after messing up a pivot.

"Oh do forgive me, your Highness! Some of us don't have as much practice making aggressive cuts back and forth, you know!" she shot back with a laugh, planting her hands on her hips.

"No excuses, no excuses! How else are you gonna improve?" Harry quipped, skating lazy circles around Y/N while she caught her breath. His gaze kept drifting down to the sheen of sweat glistening along the graceful curve of her neck.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter, with Harry analyzing her form and gently course correcting when needed. For her part, Y/N chirped right back and seemed utterly unafraid to get a little sassy with her "coach."

At one point, after completing a rapid succession of puck handling sequences, Harry noticed a few loose strands of Y/N's hair had escaped her French braid to stick damply against her flushed face and neck. Before he could even really process the impulse, Harry found himself reaching out to gently brush the damp locks behind her ear.

Both of them froze at the sudden intimate gesture. Harry opened his mouth to quickly apologize for the overstep. But the words died in his throat when he glanced up and found Y/N gazing at him through hooded lids, her coy smile and flushed cheeks making his heart restart with a hard thud.

"I, uh...think you're ready to move on to some shooting drills now," Harry rasped in a low tone, reluctantly taking a step back and scooping up a few pucks.

They settled into the familiar rhythm of Harry rapidly feeding Y/N pucks while she whipped shot after shot towards the empty net. Her skating power and edgework were superb as she leaned into the lightning-fast wristers, putting her full body weight behind every blistering attempt on goal.

But as the drill progressed, Harry could see Y/N's form gradually getting sloppier as fatigue set in. Her shots lost some of their zip, her tight core beginning to hunch over. When one weak wrister fluttered harmlessly wide of the net, Harry blew his whistle to pause the action.

"Take a break for a minute, get some water," he urged in a tone much gentler than his usual coaching bark. Harry skated over to the bench and grabbed his own water bottle, downing a long pull. He watched Y/N do the same out of the corner of his eye as she bent over, those same wispy strands of hair falling to curtain her flushed face once more.

As she straightened back up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat at the way Y/N's tight athletic top clung to her curves, damp with perspiration. He subconsciously licked his lips, feeling his mouth go dry with a sudden burst of dizzying arousal. Quickly looking away, Harry scrubbed a hand through his wild locks and cleared his throat roughly.

"Not bad at all for your first go with hockey drills. You've definitely got the fundamentals down pat."

Y/N shot him a radiant smile, seeming utterly unaware of the effect she was having on her coach as she smoothed back her sweaty hair. "Well, I do have an awfully good teacher pushing me hard."

"Don't sell yourself short," Harry countered, feeling his pulse spike at her playful flirtiness. He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice still came out a bit lower and rougher than intended. "Your strong core, killer edges, and flexibility from skating give you a really solid base for hockey skills."

"Why Coach Styles, are you saying I have...a killer body?" she teased, enjoying how flustered she could make the supremely confident hockey stud.

Harry's jaw dropped open, her boldness utterly disarming him. "I-I, well I didn't...that's not exactly what I-"

But Y/N just giggled and skated backward, waving him off. "I'm just joking around! Let's keep going, yeah? But maybe take it a little easier since it's my first time handling your...stick."

She drew out the last two words with a salacious wink, throwing Harry completely off his game. His face reddened instantly, sputtering incoherently as an entirely different kind of tension suddenly clung thick in the air between them.

Seeming to realize she'd flustered her coach a bit too much, Y/N reigned in her playful teasing with an apologetic smile. "Too far?"

"No! No, it's...it's all good. Just caught me off guard is all," Harry said quickly, giving his head a little shake to clear it as a lopsided grin formed. Two could play at this flirtatious game. "Let's just say I'm happy to give you a few pointers on stick handling whenever you need it."

Y/N sent him an exaggerated wink, taking her position again. "Looking forward to it, Coach."

And just like that, the heavy undercurrent of sexual tension dissipated again as they refocused on their drills. But it was like a lingering spark had been lit between them, little flirty moments flickering to life occasionally as the practice session wore on.

At one point, Harry skated past closely behind Y/N to scoop up a rogue puck, making sure his firm chest brushed along her back ever-so-slightly. He definitely didn't miss the shiver that licked down her spine at the brief contact, even in the chill of the rink.

Another time, as he demonstrated a proper shooting stance with a high wrist shot, Y/N sidled up to his side. "Like this?" she murmured huskily, purposely pressing her lithe body flush against Harry's sculpted torso as she mimicked his firing motion.

Harry gulped thickly at their sudden intimate proximity, feeling his breath quicken. "Y-Yeah, just like that..." he rasped out, unable to tear his gaze from the delicate slope of Y/N's neck just inches away.

Oh, the smell of ice mixed with her intoxicating perfume, all he wanted to do was take a bite.

With a wicked grin, Y/N slowly extracted herself from Harry's personal space, leaving the poor guy almost dizzy and aching for her warmth again. This girl was going to be the death of him.

After nearly two hours of rigorous back-and-forth drilling, skating lap after lap across the rink, they were both finally drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Y/N paused for a long pull from her water bottle before tossing it aside carelessly and gliding right up to Harry with a gleam in her eye.

"I've got one last request for my hockey tutor..." she said in a low, sultry tone as she drew closer and closer until the heat of her body mingled with Harry's.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart thundering beneath his sweat-soaked jersey. "Y-Yeah? What's that?"

With a sly grin, Y/N reached out and boldly rucked up the hem of Harry's jersey until it bunched up beneath his armpits. Then she openly raked her heated gaze over every toned inch of his sculpted abdomen and chest now deliciously exposed.

"I want you to show me..." she purred in a low, gravelly tone, "how you celebrate after scoring a big goal."

Harry felt like all the air had been punched from his lungs as her words and blazing look washed over him. He stood there frozen, abdominal muscles twitching beneath her roaming eyes. When she slowly dragged her tongue across her plump lower lip, Harry was utterly undone.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the hips and hauled her flush against his body as he crashed his lips onto hers in a searing, desperate kiss. She gasped in surprise against his hungry mouth before instantly melting into the embrace, her fingers fisting into his damp hair.

Their kisses were immediately messy and uncoordinated, all instinct and pent-up longing as they finally gave in to the thick tension that had slowly simmered during their private lesson. Harry angled his head, deepening their liplock as his hands gripped Y/N's lithe waist almost punishingly. She rolled her hips shamelessly against the unmistakable bulge in his athletic pants, earned a guttural groan from Harry.

"Fuck...you're going to be the death of me, you bloody tease," he growled against the sleek column of her throat as his lips blazed a hot trail across her overheated skin.

Y/N laughed breathlessly, the sound shooting straight to Harry's groin. "I'd say I'm sorry...but I'm really, really not."

Growling again at her cheekiness, Harry abruptly spun them both and shoved Y/N up against the dasher boards, pinning her there with his body as his large hands roamed greedily over her petite frame. Bunching up her sleek workout top, he leaned down to trail openmouthed kisses along the soft swell of her belly and up between the lace-capped valley of her breasts.

Y/N squirmed and writhed shamelessly against Harry, little whimpery pants escaping her bitten lips as his calloused hands roamed every inch of her overheated skin finally bared to his wandering touch. Threading her fingers through his wild hair, she tugged his mouth back up to hers for another messy clash of dueling tongues and harsh breaths.

"Harry..." she whined out between electrifying kisses. "I want...I need..."

"What, love? Tell me what you need," he rasped against the swell of her parted lips, hips rutting shamelessly against her core as he pinned her harder to the unforgiving boards.

She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, lust-darkened eyes, chest heaving. In answer, Y/N boldly reached down and cupped the bulge tenting the front of Harry's pants. An audible groan punched out of him at her touch, his forehead thudding weakly against the brows by her head.

"Jesus...are you sure? Here on the rink like this?" he questioned, even as his hips grinded shamelessly into her exploring palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Y/N whispered urgently. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip, peering back at him through dense lashes. "I want you so fucking badly right here, right now. Please, Harry...I need you inside me."

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before crashing his lips back to Y/N's in another messy, fiery kiss. One large hand slid around to cup her arse, grinding her core more firmly against the rigid length of him. She rewarded him with a broken whimper into his mouth.

With his free hand, Harry blindly tugged Y/N's leggings and knickers down in one impatient tug until they were a rumpled pool around her ankles. She quickly kicked them aside, spreading her thighs wantonly as Harry settled in the cradle of her hips.

They both groaned in unison as the their centres made contact, Harry's clothed length nestling snugly against Y/N's slick, molten heat. Reaching between their flush bodies, Y/N deftly freed Harry's straining cock to spring free from the confines of his pants. She traced the plump velvet head teasingly, drinking in Harry's desperate whine against her lips.

"Fuck me..." Harry panted, rutting shamelessly against her hand. "Y/N, please let me fuck you, baby."

That was all the encouragement she needed before guiding his broad tip to her entrance. They both cried out in unison as Harry bottomed out in one slick thrust forward, his thick cock fitting snugly inside her with a soft punch of air. The thick length prodded into her deliciously, kissing the back of her damp cervix. They stilled together for a wild heartbeat, trembling mouths and sweat-dampened foreheads pressed flush as they adjusted to the heady feeling of being so intimately connected.

Harry was the first to move, withdrawing his hips in a slow grind before slamming back home, driving a guttural moan from Y/N's parted lips. He set a punishing pace, his strong arms and thighs flexing with the effort of moving them both against the rigid boards. Y/N wrapped her toned legs high around his flexing hips, nails raking down his rigid back as he jackhammered into her welcoming body over and over.

“Oh fuck, Harry-just like that, like that, yeah–” Y/N moaned once more, grinding her hips against his pelvis, his cock twitching isnide her cunt at the sensation.

“Oh Jesus, you’re so damn hot, you know taht?” he panted into her mouth, their damp clothes sticking togtehr in a sweaty mess. But the way they made each other feel, it was all worth it.

They panted out harsh, shuddering breaths, slick skin slapping together obscenely in the silence of the empty rink. Y/N babbled out breathy moans and curses, struggling to muffle the loud echoes with her face buried in the sweaty curve of Harry's neck. She bit down on it occasionally, earning a groan from him as she paired it with desperate clenches around his length.

But her unraveling cries only spurred him on, his cock driving into her with rougher, more frantic strokes until they were both hovering right on the edge.

With a few more powerful snaps of his hips, Y/N’s back arched like a bow and screamed out her climax, creamy inner walls fluttering spastically around Harry's thick length. The sudden gripping contractions yanked Harry's own orgasm from him in hot bursts as he brokenly shouted out his release, teeth sinking into the supple juncture of Y/N's neck and shoulder, something he had been waiting to do since teh night they met.

They clung together in a sweaty, panting jumble of sated limbs, chests heaving as they slowly drifted back to earth. Little aftershocks still rippled through them both until finally Harry drew his head back, blissfully dazed as he gazed at the thoroughly rumpled and glowing girl in his arms.

"Well...I'd say you definitely scored one hell of a goal," Y/N panted out breathlessly after a moment, trying for a coy smile despite her wild disarray.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed, the sound bright and carefree as he peppered fresh kisses along Y/N's heated cheek and jaw. "Lucky shot, beautiful..."

They held each other for a long stretch, neither willing to break the intimate embrace just yet despite the chilled rink air now raising goosebumps across their sweat-slickened skin. Harry nuzzled deeper against Y/N's neck, breathing in her lingering floral scent heavily tinged with sweat and arousal.

Eventually though, Harry reluctantly eased Y/N's trembling legs back to the floor, steadying her with a firm arm around her waist. Looking around the dim rink with a lopsided smile, he gave a low chuckle at the state of complete disarray - sopping workout clothes, towels, and water bottles strewn everywhere around them, plus a naughty new addition of Y/N's lacy panties lying crumpled against the boards where their heated frenzied began.

Y/N looped her arms loosely around Harry's neck, her coy eyes sparkling with mirth as she gazed back at him adoringly. Harry leaned in again to capture her lips in a sensual, unhurried kiss, reveling in the taste and feel of her. When they finally broke apart again, he pressed his forehead to hers with a contented sigh.

"Fancy grabbing a pint with me when we're done cleaning up this unholy mess?" Harry murmured, pressing his forehead to Y/N's with a contented sigh. "I'll even let you order me around a bit more."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Y/N countered with a throaty chuckle, lazily trailing her fingertips through the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. "Because I was rather enjoying calling the shots just now."

"Oh you cheeky minx," Harry growled playfully before surging in to capture her lips in another heated kiss. He walked them backwards until Y/N's back hit the boards again with a dull thud, caging her in with his body as his large hands roamed eagerly over her bare curves.

Y/N mewled softly into his ravenous mouth, welcoming the slide of his tongue stroking intimately against her own. Her limbs felt heavy and lax, muscles still tingling from the mind-blowing release mere minutes ago. But she could already feel a new ember of need beginning to stoke low in her belly as Harry's sweat-slicked skin glided feverishly against hers.

One of his big hands boldly slid down to cup her arse, hauling Y/N's pliant body flush to grind against the feel of his new arousall. She gasped at the electrifying friction, breaking their liplock on a broken whine.

"Harry...already? I can barely feel my legs!"

"Sorry love, what was that?" he rumbled right back, swirling his hips in a deliberate grind to drag his impressive length along her drenched folds. "Did you want me to stop?"

"No! God no, please don't stop," Y/N hurriedly corrected on a breathless keen as Harry sealed his mouth over her thundering pulse point. His other large hand boldly palmed her breast, callused thumb rasping over her peaked nipple until she shuddered.

"Good girl," he praised in a gravelly tone before biting down sharply on the tendon at the base of her throat.

Y/N jolted with a strangled cry at the tantalizing sting, her back bowing sharply away from the unforgiving barrier at her spine as her legs instinctively scissored wider around Harry's hips. Lust roared through her veins again, thick and heady as their slick skin slid together with the beginnings of a fervent grind.

Lips and teeth clashed in a heated duel once more, the rink filling with harsh pants and whines muffled against sweat-dampened skin. Harry was already throbbing and more than ready to bury himself back inside Y/N's snug, fluttering heat. But he purposefully held off, delighting in slowly winding them both into a lascivious frenzy with nothing but sinuous rolls of his hips and fervent caresses.

"Need you inside me," Y/N groaned at last, using her heels to dig into Harry's firm arse and pull him infinitesimally closer until his rigid length prodded against her drenched entrance. "Harry please, I can't wait anymore. Fuck me again, love."

He gave a gruff sound of approval at her shameless pleading, the authoritative command fueling his already ravenous lust into an outright inferno. Capturing her mouth in another seering kiss, Harry easily hitched Y/N's leg up over his hip before finally sheathing himself inside her with one powerful snap of his hips.

They both cried out in unison at the feeling of being so intimately reconnected, Y/N's sweet whimper swallowed by Harry's desperate groan. He set an immediately brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before pounding back in with punishing strokes, letting the delicious tension coil and crescendo.

Y/N's broken whimpers and moans filled the rink, echoing back at them from the vacant rafters as her petite frame was pinned and jolted by Harry's fervent tempos. One hand scrabbled at the abused boards behind her, trying in vain to find purchase as the other fisted and yanked wildly through Harry's sweat-dampened locks.

"Yes! Yesyesyes..." she babbled mindlessly on each jarring upstroke that grinded deliciously against that molten front wall of nerves. "Oh fuck, Harry...just like that, god yes!"

Harry only growled in response, using his bulk and powerful thighs to hammer into her molten core with somehow even more brutal strokes. His teeth found purchase on the feverish juncture of Y/N's neck and collar, sucking a blossom of arousal to the surface as his hips snapped forward in a punishing grind.

It went on that way, the only sounds filling the rink their harshly mingled cries and the thunderous squelch of flesh meeting slickly in an unforgiving, wild rut. As they spiraled ever higher towards their mutual crescendos, Harry and Y/N's movements turned almost frenzied and animalistic in their unbridled need.

With a few more piston thrusts of his hips, Y/N detonated first. Her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped open on a guttural, sobbing cry of rapture. Every muscle in her lithe body locked up in an archway of pure ecstasy, inner muscles fluttering as she fell over the sweet euphoric release, her stomach tingling with adoration as he looked at her like she was the oly woman in the world.

“Fuck me…” she giggled, but it was immediately transformed into a broken moan as his hips snapped into her quivering entrance once more, her back arching towards his mouth as he latched onto her swollen nipples once again.

His hips snapped inside her–once, twice, thrice–before he was spilling himself inside her, her warmth clinging to him like a comforting embrace that made both their hearts skip a beat.,

***

After their intense intimate encounter on the ice, Harry and Y/N took a few moments to catch their breath and bask in the afterglow. They held each other close, exchanging tender kisses and caresses as their rapidly beating hearts eventually began to settle.

Looking around at the state of disarray they had left the rink in - scattered equipment, towels, water bottles strewn about - Harry chuckled softly against Y/N's tousled hair. "I'd say we've properly christened this ice in a completely unholy way."

Y/N laughed lightly, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Even amid the chill of the rink, she felt deliciously warm and content cocooned in Harry's strong embrace. "Well they do say no place is too sacred for certain activities."

"Cheeky thing, you are," Harry murmured affectionately, trailing his knuckles along the gentle curve of her flushed cheek. He dipped his head to capture her lips in another lingering kiss, savoring her taste and the feel of her body melting against his.

Eventually they knew they should disentangle and start cleaning up the rink before someone came across the incriminating scene of their tryst. With some reluctance, they separated just enough to hastily redress in their rumpled athletic wear.

As Y/N shimmied back into her leggings, she sent Harry a coy look from beneath her lashes. "So...did I pass my hockey training with flying colors then, Coach?"

Harry snorted at her playful quip, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'd say you earned an A+ for effort...among other things," he replied with a lopsided smirk.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter as they straightened up the rink, tossing towels and equipment into haphazard piles. Every so often, their gazes would meet and linger with a lingering heated undercurrent simmering between them.

Once they had restored some semblance of order, Harry tossed his duffel over his shoulder and took Y/N's hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'mon, let me buy you that pint to celebrate your...excellent performance review."

"Mmm, I do love a good performance incentive program," Y/N quipped, falling into step beside Harry towards the exit.

An easy, companionable silence fell over them as they made their way out of the deserted rink and into the crisp night air. Stealing a glance at the beaming beauty beside him, Harry felt a contented calm settle over his usual manic hockey intensity.

He wasn't sure what this new...relationship?...with Y/N would hold. But in that moment, just reveling in her presence and their newfound intimacy, Harry found he didn't really care about the future. He was happy to just bask in the feeling of her hand in his and the memory of her cries of pleasure echoing through the rafters.

As they strolled along, their joined hands swung lightly between their bodies. Harry grinned to himself, already wondering if he could convince Y/N of a repeat "lesson" very soon...

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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704 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 8 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush who is so oblivious that they told him with confidence that no one would be interested in them romantically?

yes of course lovely, it’s always a pleasure writing your prompt lists 😊💕

Astarion

definitely thinks you’re joking at first.

laughs, then sees the defeated lag of your shoulders, the way you can’t tear your gaze from the ground.

wants to do his usual blasé retort, but is torn because well. he really cares for you.

I think, after a moment of silence, he reaches out and takes your hand. threads his fingers through yours.

“darling… there is so much of you to love, it’s mesmerising.”

he can’t look at you while he admits this of course, but he feels the way you squeeze his hand in yours and his dead heart skips a beat. 💕

Gale

utterly baffled.

of course someone would love you romantically?

from a practical point of view he just starts listing things off: you’re kind, a good leader, big-hearted, have a strong moral compass…

and then he just lapses into the things he likes about you.

that you’re so lovely. so good-looking. that your hair is nice and your eyes are spellbinding.

only realises he’s gone off on a tangent when he sees you grinning at him, then gets a little embarrassed…

gives you the confidence to press a kiss to his cheek though, and after that he’s beaming for the whole day 🥰

Wyll

shocked. shocked and appalled that you think that way about yourself.

takes you out for a stroll, just the two of you, and ends up waxing lyrical about all the things you have going for you.

he tries not to turn it into a confession but my man is a romantic, and soon he ends up spilling everything.

the way every time you smile at him his heart speeds up and his cheeks get hot. how you deserve someone who’ll be by your side through everything, and he’s not afraid to be that someone despite everything you’ve faced on the road.

he’d keep going if you didn’t muster up your courage and pull him into a long kiss 💕

Halsin

is old enough to understand self-doubt doesn’t just go away in one day. he’s admired you for a while so he tries to start actively courting you.

little gifts appear for you. carvings of your favourite animals, flowers you’ve mentioned liking the perfume of.

he finds a reason to be by your side every day. always tries to make you smile and laugh.

and eventually you realise… oh, what you believed before? about nobody ever feeling romantic love towards you? that was totally wrong. because there is your Druid and you’ve just realised his heart is totally devoted to you.

when you have this moment you immediately run to find him and throw yourself into his arms rom-com style lmfao ❤️

Dammon

“that’s… that’s not true! there would be plenty of people who’d love you.”

you look up into his eyes. they’re soft and sweet, and there’s a desperation behind them as the words come tumbling out of his mouth, too late to stop them.

“I’d love you. I do love you.”

a moment passes. he’s worried he’s messed up.

then you stride across the room to bring him into a kiss and his face gets hot enough to rival his forge… 🔥

Rolan

”don’t be so foolish.”

you’re utterly gobsmacked, because you were being so vulnerable, admitting your worry. “excuse me?!”

he tries to backtrack and make it look like he didn’t just insult you, lol

”there’s nothing wrong with you. you’re… wonderful. anyone would be lucky to have you.”

cheeks a bright crimson, and he’s so bad at hiding his emotions that you clock what this is instantly. it’s a confession.

“oh…” “don’t worry, forget it, I didn’t say anything—!” “rolan, would you like to get a drink tonight?”

he might combust. but he squeaks out a “yes.” because honestly? he was worried about the exact same thing you came to him to confide…

Zevlor

is firm in how silly you’re being, but kind.

holds your face in your hands to get you to look at him.

swears how lovely you are, his words like a pledge. like a prayer.

and when this paladin tells you all this? how could you believe him to be wrong.

maybe someone would love you romantically. gazing into his warm eyes, maybe someone does.

1K notes · View notes

prettyobsessed · 7 months

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ *🎀Perfumed Reverie🩰* ༘✧˚⋆·

🌊 / pairings: Rafayel / fem!reader *. ⋆ / genre: Story plot with smut [nsfw 18+, mdni] 𓇼 / tags: nsfw, romantic smut, lyrical writing, slight action smut, smut with plot, mutual attraction, slight jealousy, perfume obsession, kisses, body appreciation, hand job, clit fingering, nipple kink, nipple licking, slight sub/dom play, tying kink, ribbon kink, cock teasing, kissing, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, perfume kink, cum in mouth, savouring cum, mature sexual content, romantic, romantic smut 🐚 / word count: 6.6k

₊⊹summary₊˚⊹

In "Perfumed Reverie," the narrator prepares for Rafayel's celebration with meticulous detail, anticipating the evening ahead. Rafayel's thoughtful gift adds to the excitement. At the party, amidst the vibrant atmosphere, the narrator finds herself drawn to Rafayel's magnetic presence. Their connection deepens as Rafayel's curiosity about the narrator’s perfume sparks a moment of intimacy. Amidst the chaos, their bond strengthens, leaving both eager for more.

𓍢ִ໋🐇₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝𓆝🧸⋆

The sun cast a warm glow over the bustling city streets as I set out to find the perfect gift for Rafayel, my heart brimming with anticipation. As I navigated the crowded sidewalks, lost in thought, I was interrupted by the unexpected voice of Nero, my teammate from UNICORNS.

"Hey, fancy meeting with you. Mind if I join you for lunch? I've been dying to hear more about that eye you keep mentioning the other day,” Nero said with a grin that seemed a tad too eager. A memory flashed in my mind, the image of what lay behind the mysterious curtain stirring a sense of unease within me. Ignoring the knot of unease tightening in my stomach, I forced a polite smile and replied with a hesitant nod, "Sure, why not. I could use the company... and perhaps your opinion on something."

We settled into a nearby café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the chatter of patrons. Nero leaned in eagerly, his eyes alight with curiosity. “So, tell me more about the eye. Could you describe it in detail? I'm fascinated by it," he urged, his enthusiasm bordering on obsession.

As I recounted the details of the memory, Nero hung on my every word, his fascination evident in the way he leaned closer, his breathless anticipation palpable. "Wow," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. Then, with a slight cough, he added, "Um, do you think you could draw it again for me?" There was a hint of demand in his tone, as if he couldn't bear the thought of waiting any longer to see the image.

Unease prickled at the back of my mind, a sense of distrust creeping in as Nero's fixation on the eye grew more pronounced. “It's just for research purposes," Nero added, his voice taking on a low and dark tone that set off alarm bells in my mind.Reluctantly, I hastily sketched the image for him, feeling a sense of discomfort lingering in the air. Sensing my discomfort, I shifted the conversation, suggesting we divert our attention to finding a gift for my friend, Rafayel. Nero readily agreed, and we set off on a leisurely stroll through the city streets, our laughter blending with the hum of conversation. As we strolled along, an unsettling feeling nagged at the back of my mind, refusing to dissipate.

Yet, for the moment, I pushed aside my suspicions and focused on the task at hand.

Amidst the charming boutiques and shops, my gaze was drawn to a stunning opal watch, its iridescent hues casting a spellbinding shimmer in the sunlight. Each facet of the opal seemed to dance with a kaleidoscope of colours, evoking an ethereal beauty that captured the essence of elegance and sophistication. The sleek design of the watch, adorned with intricate detailing and polished to perfection, spoke volumes of craftsmanship and quality. As I admired its captivating allure, I couldn't help but be reminded of Rafayel's discerning taste and penchant for the finer things in life.

Nero glanced over my shoulder at the opulent timepiece, his curiosity piqued. "A gift?" he inquired, his brow raised in intrigue. I turned to face him, a smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Yes, what do you think?" I asked, eager for his opinion. "It's nice," Nero replied with a nod, his tone neutral.

Taking Nero's brief assessment into account, I made the decision to purchase the watch for Rafayel. Just as I was admiring the opal watch, the salesperson approached with a warm smile. "Would you like to add a personal message to accompany the gift?" she asked kindly. "Yes, please," I replied, grateful for the opportunity to personalise the present for Rafayel. Quickly, I penned down my heartfelt message: “To Rafayel, Congrats on the collaboration! I’m super proud of you. This gift is a token of my support and belief in your talents. Hope you like it ♡ With love, Y/N x”.

With a sense of satisfaction, I passed the note back to the salesperson, who carefully tucked it into the gift bag alongside the opulent timepiece.

I continued my journey through the lively streets alongside Nero. The vibrant energy of the city enveloped me, infusing every step with a sense of anticipation. Before we could part ways, a familiar voice called out my name—it was Rafayel. My heart skipped a beat as I quickly hid the gift behind my back, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over me. I stole a glance at Nero, wondering how he would react to Rafayel's unexpected appearance.

As Rafayel approached, a nervous flutter danced in my chest, my anticipation mingling with apprehension. "Well, well, well, look who's out here on a date," Rafayel remarked with a hint of jealousy in his tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in our proximity.

Rafayel's gaze shifted to Nero, his expression clouded with doubt and suspicion. The tension between them was palpable, casting a shadow over the otherwise pleasant encounter. I exchanged a subtle glance with Rafayel, silently urging him to keep calm and not let his insecurities get the best of him. I mouthed the word ‘Stop it’ to Rafayel, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Rafayel, this is Nero,” I introduced, my voice steady despite the underlying tension. “He's my colleague. Nero, meet Rafayel. He's... well, let's just say he's always looking out for me,” I added with a hint of playfulness, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Hey, nice to meet you. Congrats on the collab!” Nero greeted, his voice laced with genuine warmth as he attempted to break the ice and alleviate the awkwardness of the situation. In response, Rafayel’s demeanour remained guarded, his arms crossed defensively as he replied in a monotone voice, “Thanks.”

Sensing the strained atmosphere, Nero decided to make his exit. "Umm, I better get going. See you at work next Monday?" he said, his departure a relief in the tense moment. I nodded in agreement, bidding him farewell silently appreciating his timing. As Nero walked away, Rafayel's eyes narrowed, his distrust evident in the furrow of his brow.

"Why are you being so rude to him?" I questioned, my tone tinged with suspicion, as I searched Rafayel's face for any signs of jealousy or insecurity. Rafayel's response was edged with sarcasm. "Oh yeah, why are you being so nice to him? You like him, that nerd?" His distrust of Nero was palpable.

I mirrored his tone, matching his sarcasm. “So what if I like him?” I retorted, feigning nonchalance. “There's nothing you can do about it.” Rafayel leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “Nah, I know you don't like him,” he remarked, his words carrying a hint of certainty. With a mischievous smirk, he added, “Besides, why waste your time thinking about anyone else when you could be thinking about me?” His playful remark caught me off guard, a flush of frustration rising to my cheeks as I struggled to maintain composure.

Reiterating once more that Nero was merely a colleague, I hoped to ease Rafayel's concerns.

“Pfft. Anyways, this is for you. Wear it to the party later?” Rafayel said, his tone softening as he handed me a small, elegantly wrapped package. “Ooh, what is it? Can I open it now?” I asked eagerly, excitement bubbling within me. Rafayel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Not now. Open it later when you get home,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Since Rafayel had already given me a gift, I pulled out the carefully wrapped present I had purchased for him. “I got you a gift too. Open it later and let me know if you like it. Or not. Whatever,” I said nonchalantly, though inwardly hoping that Rafayel would appreciate the gesture.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

As the clock chimed 6, signalling the beginning of the evening's arrival, I immersed myself in the preparations for Rafayel's celebration. My fingertips danced over the intricate jacquard fabric of my dress that I selected just for the party, marvelling at its luxurious texture and the way it cascaded elegantly around me. The crystal trim adorning the bodice caught the light, casting a mesmerising array of patterns across the room and infusing the ensemble with an irresistible allure. With its back lace-up closure, the dress whispered promises of sophistication and glamour, setting the stage for an unforgettable night. And to complete the look, I selected a white satin ribbon to adorn my hair, adding a touch of understated glamour to the ensemble.

Amidst the whirlwind of anticipation, my gaze fell upon the elegantly wrapped package Rafayel had presented earlier. With a gentle tug, the ribbon unfurled, revealing the treasure concealed within. Nestled within the folds of tissue paper lay a bottle of exquisite high-end perfume, encased in a pearlescent shell that shimmered like moonlight on water. As I lifted the fragrance to my nose, its enchanting blend of plum and freesia enveloped me in a delicate embrace, transporting me to a realm of opulence and elegance. Each inhale awakened my senses, stirring a symphony of emotions within me.

Accompanying the perfume was a handwritten note from Rafayel, his words infused with warmth and affection. "A gift for the beautiful Y/N," it read, his endearing nickname bringing a smile to my lips. "When I stumbled upon this packaging and scent, it instantly reminded me of you. Your vibrant spirit and unwavering kindness deserve only the finest. See you later, my silly goose."

The tender sentiment warmed my heart with a sweetness that only Rafayel could evoke, a testament to his thoughtfulness and consideration. Amidst the heartfelt sentiment, there was a playful touch that spoke of his penchant for light-hearted jests.

With a smile on my lips, a flutter of excitement coursed through me at the thought of wearing the enchanting scent to the party. With Rafayel's thoughtful gesture nestled close to my heart, I eagerly anticipated the evening party.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

As I made my grand entrance into Rafayel's house party, the room seemed to buzz with anticipation, a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds swirling around me. The air was alive with the tinkling of glasses, the rhythmic beat of music, and the low hum of conversation. Dressed in an ensemble that exuded elegance and sophistication, I felt a surge of confidence as I navigated through the crowd, drawing admiring glances from all who crossed my path.

Amidst the throng of guests, my gaze was irresistibly drawn to Rafayel, who stood amidst a cluster of people, his magnetic presence undeniable. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of us in our own private universe. His smile was like a beacon in the dimly lit room, warming my heart and igniting a spark of excitement within me.

Before I could make my way over to him, however, Thomas intercepted Rafayel, guiding him towards a group of potential clients. I watched with a mixture of disappointment and understanding as Rafayel was swept away, his attention momentarily diverted from me.

As I mingled with the guests, my thoughts kept drifting back to Rafayel, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his charismatic charm. Despite the gravity of my duty to protect him, my attention was unwaveringly fixed on him, drawn to his presence like a moth to a flame. Yet, amidst the distractions of the party, I remained vigilant, my focus unwavering as I monitored the surrounding and every movement. Ready to intervene at a moment's notice, I kept a watchful eye on him, ensuring his safety was paramount above all else.

Suddenly, a soft vibration in my pocket broke through my reverie, signalling an incoming message on my phone. With a quick glance, I saw that it was from Rafayel. "You looked stunning tonight. Can you rescue me from this crowd, pretty please?" His words brought a smile to my lips, a warmth spreading through me at the thought of him reaching out to me.

I quickly tapped out a reply, my fingers dancing across the screen. "You're doing great! Just a few more hours to go! Hang in there." As I hit send, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest, knowing that even amidst the chaos of the party, Rafayel and I shared a special connection that transcended the confines of the room. With renewed determination, I plunged back into the festivities, my heart filled with anticipation for what the night might bring.

Discreetly, I checked the holster of my concealed weapon, its comforting weight serving as a reassuring reminder of my preparedness for any unforeseen threats that might arise during the festivities. As I moved through the throng of guests, my attention was momentarily diverted by a mirror reflecting the scene before me. In its glassy surface, I caught a glimpse of a looming figure, cloaked in darkness and watching me intently.

A chill swept through me as I turned to confront the mysterious presence, but it vanished into thin air before my eyes. The image lingered in my mind—a spectre of unease that left me unsettled. I could have sworn I saw the glint of a pair of spectacles, reminiscent of Nero's distinctive style. Intrigued and wary, I resolved to investigate further. With each step, my senses sharpened, my hand instinctively gravitating towards the reassuring weight of my concealed weapon. Suddenly, a subtle vibration against my wrist alerted me to an urgent message on my Hunter's Watch—a Wanderer had been detected in close proximity, its threat level ranging from moderate to potentially dangerous.

Utilising my honed training and quick-thinking abilities, I sprang into action with a swift and decisive motion. With a determined focus, I swiftly herded the unsuspecting guests to safety, ensuring their protection before confronting the looming threat of the Wanderer. As the Wanderer crashed through the balcony roof like an uninvited intruder, its menacing tail resembling that of a scorpion's, I surveyed the room with a keen eye, ensuring that no one remained in harm's way. With a steady hand and unwavering resolve, I drew my weapon—a formidable tool enhanced by Protocore Energy—and took aim at the looming menace.

Rafayel stood at my side as the Wanderer's monstrous form bore down on us, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. With a nod of silent understanding, we synchronised our movements, our synergy honed through countless battles fought together. Fuelled by deadly intent, the Wanderer lunged forward, its razor-sharp claws slashing through the air. In response, I unleashed a barrage of shots from my enhanced weapon, each blast powered by the pulsating energy of Protocore.

The projectiles streaked through the air with deadly precision, finding their mark on the creature's armoured hide, but it remained undeterred, its ferocity undiminished. In the midst of the fray, Rafayel stepped forward, his eyes ablaze with determination.

With a fluid motion, he unleashed his signature move, the Four Scourges—a devastating flurry of strikes that unleashed a torrent of energy upon the Wanderer, shaking its monstrous form to its core.

But the creature was relentless, its primal fury driving it forward with unyielding determination. With a roar that reverberated through the room, it launched itself at us once more, its jaws gaping wide in a feral snarl. Drawing upon our shared bond and unspoken camaraderie, Rafayel and I unleashed our ultimate technique: Abyssal Beacon and Abyssal Shadow—a dazzling display of power and precision that unleashed a torrent of energy, engulfing the Wanderer in a blinding vortex of light and force.As the echoes of our combined assault faded, the room fell silent, save for the gentle crackle of dissipating energy. The Wanderer lay defeated, its once-mighty form reduced to naught but a lifeless husk.

With a shared nod of triumph, Rafayel and I stood victorious, our bond stronger than ever in the face of adversity.

Approaching the fallen Wanderer, I scanned the room for any lingering threats, my senses heightened by the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. With cautious steps, I retrieved its Protocore, ensuring no remnants of its malevolent energy lingered behind. As I claimed the precious artefact, the body of the Wanderer began to dissipate into sparkling dust, a testament to our hard-won victory.

With the room now safe, I gestured for the guests to return to the ballroom, their applause a symphony of gratitude for our valiant efforts. The sound echoed off the walls, filling the air with a sense of relief and triumph. Thomas stepped forward to address them. "Thank you all for your understanding and cooperation," he announced, his voice carrying across the room with sincerity. "For the safety of everyone present, we must end the event early. Please make your way home safely."

With heartfelt thanks and apologies, Thomas bid the guests farewell, his words imbued with genuine warmth and gratitude. Meanwhile, Rafayel remained by my side, his concern evident in the gentle scrutiny of his gaze. “Ms Bodyguard, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft with worry as he inspected my injuries.

Turning to Rafayel, I felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. "I'm fine," I assured him, offering a reassuring smile. "Just a few scratches." Rafayel's expression softened, his touch warm and comforting as he gently took my hands in his. "I'm glad you're safe,“ he murmured, his voice filled with genuine relief.

Amidst the few lingering guests in the background, helpers scurried about, diligently tidying the aftermath of the Wanderer's unwelcome intrusion into the party, as glints of glass shards shimmered in the dim light. Rafayel then led me to another room—a sanctuary within his embrace—his bedroom. The windows were open, allowing the gentle sea breeze to sway the curtains in a graceful dance. The scent of the ocean wafted in, mingling with the subtle aroma of Rafayel's presence, creating an atmosphere of serene tranquility. His room exuded a sense of majesty, adorned with elegant furnishings and offering a breathtaking view of the ocean beyond.

The soft glow of moonlight cast ethereal patterns across the room, illuminating the space with a magical aura. The walls exuded elegance, adorned with intricate tapestries and ornate moldings that enhanced the room's sense of refinement and sophistication. Plush carpets adorned the floor, inviting us to sink our feet into their luxurious embrace.

As Rafayel rummaged for the ointment to tend to my injuries, I couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight played upon his features, casting a halo of light around him. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, his movements graceful and deliberate as he searched for the right supplies. It was moments like these that made me acutely aware of the magnetic pull he had on me, drawing me closer with each passing second.

“I almost couldn’t concentrate fighting the Wanderer. What is that scent you’re wearing?” Rafayel's curiosity sparked as he rummaged for ointment to tend to my injuries. "Is that the perfume I gave you?" he inquired, his interest piqued by the lingering fragrance in the air.

I nodded in affirmation, a small smile gracing my lips. I watched as his gaze lingered on me, his curiosity evident as he took in the lingering fragrance of my perfume. The air between us seemed to crackle with anticipation, charged with an unspoken tension that left me breathless with excitement. As he leaned in to take another whiff of the scent, I couldn't help but feel nervously attracted to him.

Rafayel exuded an irresistible allure tonight, his hair tousled in a way that accentuated his rugged charm. There was a disoriented yet undeniably magnetic quality about him, as if my perfume had ensnared his senses and left him spellbound. He moved with a sense of urgency, flitting back and forth between attending to my injuries and searching for the ointment, his actions driven by an unspoken desire to be near me. Clad in a white collared shirt adorned with delicate pearly buttons, Rafayel's attire only added to his allure. The fabric clung to his frame, hinting at the contours of his muscular physique, while his slightly exposed chest sent a flurry of anticipation coursing through me, my heart quickening with every beat.

"Show me the scratches," Rafayel requested, his voice laced with concern. Despite the worry etched on his face, there was an underlying warmth that drew me closer to him. Feeling a surge of confidence enveloping me in his presence, I decided to indulge in a playful moment, relishing the anticipation building between us. With a coy grin, I allowed my fingers to glide along the fabric of my dress, slowly revealing the scratch nestled provocatively above my upper thigh.

"Right here," I said in a low, teasing voice, relishing the subtle flush that crept up his ears and the intensity of his gaze fixed on my exposed skin.

Rafayel's gaze intensified, his eyes locked on the exposed skin, his breath growing heavy. With a sense of urgency, he retrieved the ointment from his drawer, his movements deliberate as he applied it to my skin. His touch lingered, evoking a tingling sensation that stirred a rush of anticipation within me. “And here,” I continued, pointing to the scratch on my chest, just above my décolletage, revelling in the closeness between us. Rafayel stood before me, his proximity closer than ever, his eyes glazed over with delight as he leaned in to inhale the intoxicating scent once more on my chest to my neck. His breath hitched, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against my skin, a silent testament to the effect I had on him.

My heart raced with excitement as his touch lingered, each caress invoking a cascade of tingling sensations that danced across my skin like a symphony of desire. The air between us hummed with a potent energy, thick with desire and longing.

“Are you okay?” I asked, a surge of concern washing over me as Rafayel seemed to falter. Supporting him to a bench nestled at the foot of his bed, I sat beside him and searched his eyes for any signs of distress. “I don’t know,” Rafayel confessed, his voice tinged with wonder. “I was fine before the party started. But as soon as you came, I got caught up with your scent. And the more I catch the scent of your perfume, the more it seems to bewitch me. It's like...” He trailed off, struggling to articulate the intensity of his feelings.

Rafayel's confession left me breathless, his words painting a picture of vulnerability and desire. "It's like your scent has woven its way into my very being," he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and fascination, his breath hitching with each word. The intensity in his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer to him as if we were bound by an invisible thread of longing. As Rafayel admitted his vulnerability, a surge of tenderness washed over me, mingling with the raw passion that surged between us.

He took my hand, bringing it close to his face to revel in the scent, almost as if he were savouring a rare delicacy. His touch was electric, sparking a rush of warmth that enveloped me, each caress leaving me breathless and yearning for more.

It’s like he’s being taken over by my perfume. He’s caressing my hand with his face, indulging in the scent that’s making him high. While he’s being obsessed with my scent, I couldn't help but notice the opal watch adorning his wrist, the one I had gifted him. With a soft smile, I traced the lines of his face with gentle reverence, feeling the weight of his words in the air between us. “You’re watching the watch. It suits you well,” I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rafayel's response was a whisper of his own, filled with promise and longing. "It's a reminder that I'm bound to you forever." Taking his hand in mine, I brought it close to my face, allowing him to revel in the scent that seemed to draw us closer with each passing moment. His gaze locked with mine, a silent plea lingering in his eyes.

"Kiss me, please?” he breathed, his voice a soft plea that stirred something deep within me.

Lost in the moment, I couldn't resist the allure of his disheveled appearance, his tousled hair adding to his irresistible charm. Without hesitation, I leaned in and kissed him, savouring the taste of his lips against mine. As the kiss deepened, I felt Rafayel's hands pull me closer, his touch sparked a symphony of sensations, each note playing a melody of longing that reverberated through every fiber of my being.

Rafayel's grip tightened around my waist, drawing me impossibly closer as our ardor surged to intoxicating heights. Feeling emboldened by his touch, I reciprocated his desire, my hands trailing down his neck to the exposed skin of his chest, then further down to the defined contours of his abs. With each touch, he reacted, his body jolting responding to my caress with a mix of pleasure and anticipation.

Still nestled in his embrace, I rested my left arm against his back, feeling the reassuring warmth of his skin beneath my touch. With my right fingers, I traced delicate patterns along his abdomen, following the enticing path of his happy trail as it disappeared below his belly button. Each stroke elicited a shiver of pleasure from Rafayel, his body responding to my touch with a mix of anticipation and desire.

With a daring glint in his eye, Rafayel teased, "Don't take your hands off me. Go further down, I dare you." His voice carried a seductive challenge, a playful invitation to delve deeper into the depths of our shared desire without inhibition.

His words hung in the air like a potent aphrodisiac, sending a rush of anticipation coursing through me, urging me to delve deeper into the realms of carnal delight. With a mischievous grin, I accepted his challenge, allowing my fingertips to continue their descent, tracing a tantalising path along the contours of his body. My fingers trailed from his abs to his pants, tiptoeing and caressing his growing erection with just my finger. Rafayel's hand reached out, a silent plea for restraint, yet his eyes betrayed the true depth of his desire.

“If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to leave,” Rafayel murmured, his gaze locked with mine—a silent invitation to indulge in the passion that simmered between us. The essence of Rafayel's words permeated the air, lingering like an intoxicating fragrance that enveloped us both. His gaze, locked with mine, spoke volumes, silently beckoning me to embrace the intoxicating passion that simmered between us.

"Good," I purred, my voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Because I don't plan on stopping." Rafayel's reaction was immediate, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips at my words. With a boldness that matched his own, I brushed his hand aside, allowing my fingers to continue their languid exploration of his hardened length. Each stroke elicited a soft gasp from him, his body responding eagerly to my touch.

His breath hitched in his throat, a symphony of desire escaping his lips in soft moans that filled the air.

My fingers traced patterns of arousal along his length, teasing and tempting him with every caress. Leaning in closer, I whispered words of longing against his skin, my breath hot against his ear. With each passing moment, the anticipation grew thicker, the hunger in his eyes mirroring my own. I revelled in the delicious torture of the moment, savouring the intoxicating dance of desire that enveloped us both.

With a daring glint in my eye, I continued to tease him, drawing circles on his throbbing arousal, each touch sending a surge of pleasure coursing through him. My fingers lingered on his clothed erection before deftly unbuttoning his pants, granting me access to his hard erection. With each button undone, my anticipation swelled, eager to explore the depths of his desire and fulfil our mutual craving for ecstasy.

Once I unbuttoned Rafayel’s pants, I liberated his shaft from its fabric confines. Unveiling his arousal, I found myself entranced by the mesmerising sight. Long, girthy and slightly curved. I couldn’t imagine the sensations it would evoke and how it would feel like being filled by him. I leaned in closer, my breath hot against his skin as I whispered words of longing.

His hardened length stood tall and commanding, pulsating with an undeniable vigor that spoke volumes. Without hesitation, I leaned in, my lips parting as I released a small stream of saliva onto his throbbing member. The slickness of my saliva enhanced the sensation as I slowly wrapped my hand around his hardness, feeling the heat and hardness beneath my touch. Our eyes locked in a heated exchange, a silent understanding passing between us as I continued to stroke him with deliberate slowness.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as Rafayel, emboldened by desire, reached for the top of my dress, pulling it down to reveal my pert nipple. His touch was gentle yet firm as he traced the contours of my breast, his warm breath igniting a tempest of sensations within me. I gasped as his lips closed around my nipple, his tongue dancing and swirling, setting my nerve endings ablaze with ecstasy. The intensity of his ministrations sent bolts of raw pleasure shooting through my body, kindling an insatiable desire that surged from the depths of my being.

"It's hard not to bite what's already near my mouth," Rafayel chuckled softly, his voice a velvety whisper tinged with desire. The playful edge in his tone heightened the already intoxicating arousal that surrounded us like a tangible heat. With each stroke of my hand and flick of his tongue, he seemed to embrace his primal instincts and his movements growing increasingly feral.

Sensing my eagerness, Rafayel lifted me effortlessly, guiding me to straddle him as we made our way to his satin bed awaiting us. His touch was electrifying, his hands roaming over my body with a possessive urgency that set my skin ablaze with desire. "May I?" Rafayel's voice was a husky whisper, his eyes dark with longing as he gestured towards the dress that adorned my form.

"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper as I surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire.

With practiced ease, Rafayel deftly stripped me of my dress, leaving me clad only in delicate lace and the weapon concealed within. As the dress pooled at my feet, I discreetly removed the gun, tucking it away in a safe place, ensuring our passion remained undisturbed by external threats. In turn, Rafayel shed his top, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest, each muscle defined and sculpted beneath the surface. Despite undressing, he kept the watch on. As he tenderly guided me onto the plush satin sheets, his gaze locked with mine, his lips leaving a trail of delicate kisses along my skin, each touch igniting a wildfire of sensation. With each caress, he worshipped every inch of my being, his hands tracing the contours of my body with reverence, as if I were a precious work of art to be cherished.

Descending with purpose, his lips trailed a path of anticipation down to my stomach, then further still, until he reached the apex of my desire. With skilful hands, he parted my folds, eagerly savouring my taste as his tongue explored every inch of my quivering flesh. Lost in the throes of passion, he ravished me with fervent kisses and expert strokes, driving me to the brink of ecstasy.

With a gentle gesture, he offered his fingers to my eager mouth, coaxing me to coat them with my saliva. Without hesitation, I complied, relishing the taste of our shared desire. As he slowly inserted his finger into my dripping core, a wave of pleasure surged through me, intensifying with each rhythmic circle he traced.

The sensation was overwhelming, my body trembling with need as he skilfully brought me to the brink of release. And in a moment of pure ecstasy, I surrendered to the pleasure, succumbing to the powerful climax he had orchestrated with his masterful touch.

As waves of pleasure continued to ripple through my body, I basked in the afterglow of my climax, feeling every nerve ending alight with bliss. I luxuriated in the lingering sensation, relishing the intoxicating rush that coursed through me.

But even amidst the haze of ecstasy, my desire for Rafayel burned brighter than ever, urging me to reciprocate the pleasure he had so generously bestowed upon me. With a languid grace, I shifted my focus, my gaze locking with his as I conveyed my silent gratitude.

“I wanna try something,” I murmured, a mischievous glint in my eye as I reached for the white ribbon that adorned my hair. Removing it with a practiced twist, I used the ribbon to bind Rafayel's hands, securing them above his head as I took my rightful place atop him. With a playful smirk, I teased his senses, trailing kisses and caresses along his body.

The satin ribbon felt smooth against my fingertips as I expertly tied his wrists, the fabric contrasting with the heat radiating from his skin. With each knot, I could sense his anticipation building, his breath quickening in anticipation of what was to come. “Is this like… a new kink of yours?” Rafayel teased, a playful grin dancing on his lips as he observed me with curious amusement. His eyes sparkled with intrigue, betraying the hint of excitement stirring within him.

I responded with a coy grin, my lips curling into a mischievous smile as I nodded in affirmation.

As I leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips, I could feel the tension in his muscles, his body straining against the restraints in a delicious mix of desire and surrender.

With his hands bound above his head, Rafayel lay helpless beneath me, his eyes dark with desire as I explored every inch of his body with kisses and feather-light touches. The air was thick with anticipation as I trailed my lips along his jawline, down his neck, and across his chest. With each caress, I could feel the intensity of his arousal building, his skin flushing with heat as he surrendered to the pleasure of my touch.

Rafayel's breath hitched in his throat as I continued my sensual assault, his moans filling the room with a symphony of pleasure. The faint scent of arousal hung in the air, mingling with the heady aroma of our desire as I teased him relentlessly. “Fuck…Y/N, stop teasing me,” His voice was a husky whisper, each word laced with desperation and longing. His hands strained against the ribbon, a silent plea for more, as I revelled in the power I held over him.

I leaned in closer, my lips hovering just out of reach as I whispered, "You know you love it when I tease you." The heat of his skin beneath my fingertips was intoxicating, driving me to push him further, to see how far I could take him before he begged for release.

With a wicked grin, I allowed him to untie himself, his hands immediately finding their way to my body, pulling me closer in a desperate embrace. His hands roam freely as he pulled me closer, our bodies intertwining in a passionate embrace. Guiding his throbbing member to my dripping core, I lowered myself onto him, savouring the exquisite feeling of fullness as he filled me completely.

I stroke Rafayel's cock with my clit, relishing the sensation of his hardness against my sensitive flesh. Releasing his cock from my core momentarily, I coat his pulsating member with my saliva, reveling in the intimacy of the act. The look of desire in his eyes fuels my own arousal, and I love every moment of tempting and teasing him.

Inching deeper, I circle my hips slowly, ensuring every movement brings him exquisite pleasure. His moans of ecstasy spur me on, driving me to explore every inch of his length with my tight, wet pussy. With each deliberate motion, I feel him responding to my touch, his cock throbbing with need beneath me.

"So fucking pretty, my princess," Rafayel moans, his words stirring a carnal hunger deep within me, every syllable like a siren's call, beckoning me further into the abyss of ecstasy. The endearing nickname he gives me only heightens my arousal, causing my pussy to tighten around him involuntarily. His eyes widen in surprise and delight, realising the effect his words have on me. With each fervent thrust, I surrender to the pleasure, riding him with an insatiable hunger that knows no bounds.

"I'm gonna—,” Rafayel groaned, his voice strained with desire as he neared the brink of release.

With a wicked grin, I withdrew from his pulsating member, the taste of his arousal lingering on my tongue. "Cum in here," I purred, my lips parting in invitation as I offered myself to him once more. Rafayel's eyes widened in anticipation, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him.

In a moment of pure ecstasy, Rafayel released his cum into my waiting mouth, his essence a delicious elixir that I eagerly savoured. Being the insatiable vixen that I am, I devoured his cock for the last time, each movement of my tongue prolonging his orgasm and intensifying his pleasure. His moans grew deeper, more desperate, as he held onto me tightly, not wanting to let go. With a teasing swivel of my tongue on the tip of his cock, his whole body jerked in response, his desire reaching new heights.

As he throbbed with the aftershocks of pleasure, I met his gaze with a sultry smile, his heartfelt admission of love resounding in the air like a whispered promise. "I adore you, every inch of you," he confessed—his voice a seductive melody that danced on the edge of desire.

"Please… never leave me again," he murmured, his hands cradling my face with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his longing. The sincerity in his gaze, the yearning in his touch, echoed the depths of his desire to hold onto our love, to never let it slip away again.

Savouring the moment, I met his gaze with a sultry smile, my own confession of love hanging between us like a delicate promise waiting to be fulfilled. “I promise. Among all the fishies in the sea, you're the one who caught my eye. Unless you’re begging to be released again,” I teased, my voice tinged with affection as I gazed into Rafayel's mesmerising eyes, feeling the weight of my love for him in every word.

Rafayel and I found ourselves entangled in a playful banter afterwards.

“Says the one who doesn't know how to row the boat!” Rafayel teased, casting a knowing glance at me. The memory of our ill-fated boating excursion flashed through my mind, a moment of levity amidst the tension. "Says the one who ended up tossing his lunch overboard.... and well, couldn't resist taking the bait,” I playfully retorted, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I teased Rafayel. He mockingly gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "Oh, the audacity! Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you're just here for the catch and release." I leaned in closer, my lips curling into a smirk. "Well, you must admit, Rafayel, I do have quite the knack for reeling you in."

He chuckled, his laughter filling the air as he leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes. "Touché, my dear. Touché indeed." Just then, Rafayel leaned in, his lips brushing against my neck as he inhaled the lingering scent of plum and freesia. "I need you to spray more perfume on here, Ms. Bodyguard," he murmured with a playful tone, his breath warm against my skin. I playfully swatted his arm, laughing at the ticklish sensation. His playful request to apply the perfume only added to the intimacy between us, as I surrendered to the warmth of his embrace. Allowing myself to bask in the warmth of Rafayel's presence, I closed my eyes. In his arms, I found solace, a sanctuary where love and laughter intertwined to form an unbreakable bond.

—by prettyobsessed🎀⋆⁺₊⋆ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Editor’s note: this is for the Rafayel girlies out there! i intended to write something sweeter for Rafayel's smut, but the direction changed. hmm, we'll see. i might tweak around a bit more. also, doesn't Nero seem a little suspicious? i recently replayed the chapters again and started noticing his peculiar behaviour. but either way, hope you enjoyed this one! ᵔᴗᵔ

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arminsumi · 1 year

Note

22 with toji? >___< i love mamaguro but sometimes i be thinkingggg..

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦

A/N: ughhh ikr 🤤😔 ik this goes without saying (hopefully) but y'all don't cheat 😵‍💫 read fiction about ur fave anime boys cheating with u instead lmao

Wc ≈ 800

Pairing: TOJI Fushiguro x f.reader

Summary: you and Toji getting up to no good in your favorite hotel room

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, smut, infidelity, pns (baby, slut, bitch) cheating kink, slight size kink, nasty dirty talk, slightly mean/rough Toji, taking condom off (mutually consensual), breeding kink, slight hairpulling, one ass slap (why is it always just ONE lmao), kinda rough/manhandling but not rlly, daddy kink, prone bone/from the back, lmk if i have missed anything <3

♪ i keep going back to this hotel room...

Damn you, he thinks while squeezing himself into a condom that’s very slightly too small for his size.

You’re to blame – to blame for being spellbinding, bewitching, entrancing, irresistible, alluring… he never thought about straying until you showed up one day in the office, pretty smile and naughty glint in your eyes.

“Fuck me…” he seethes when he sinks into your tight pussy – so happily spreading your legs for him on the hotel bed. With how many times you two have come and gone through this room on weekends, you’re pretty sure the receptionist has figured out what happens behind those closed doors.

“ ‘s so fucking sexy when you arch your back like that for me, pretty thing.” Toji grunts, splitting you wide open on his cock. “ ‘missed me?” he asks cheekily, feeling how much you’re gushing for him after such simple touching earlier – he had kissed you like he was starved of the taste of your lips, touched you like he’s never laid hands on a female form before. It made sense why he acted so needy, you hadn’t seen him for two weekends straight after all.

“Mhm! Missed you so much…” you moan into the pillow, bringing your hands down to spread your pussylips so you can take his cock better.

His cockhead always glides in so nicely, but halfway in his length got so thick that your pussy just spat his cock out. He always chuckles when it does.

“ ‘been too long, baby, ‘gotta stretch out that pussy all over again. Make it remember daddy’s cock.”

Toji tightly pins your waist down into the mattress, just feeling a fraction of his strength turns you on. Yeah, you’ve met strong guys before – but Toji was fucking strong. He could toss you into any position he wanted, he could make you feel weightless at times.

Those calloused hands know your body better than your own. He knows which sweet spots to his to make you cream, what pace makes you claw at his biceps, what dirty talk makes you cum. He knows everything about your body. He almost doesn’t wanna admit it, but he knows your body better than his own wife’s.

“Fuckin’ slut, look at you going dumb on my dick already. Keep it together, we just started.” He chuckled meanly, giving your ass an encouraging smack to bring you back to earth. “What? ‘This position too much for you?” he asked rhetorically – because he knew damn well that you couldn’t handle him pressing his weight onto you from behind like this.

“Nooo, I can take it!” you squeak, biting the hotel pillow as you hug it for support. He always feels so good that you need some form of comfort. The feeling of his fat tip nudging against your sweet spot and throbbing there makes you say some nasty shit that makes him smirk. “Fuuuck – just fuck me alre – fuuuck, mhm! Like that! Like that!” you sob into the pillow when he fulfils your wishes and pounds into you from behind like an animal.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and gently pulls your head back, making his lips meet your ear – scar grazing against your skin. “Don’t go all quiet on me. I know how fucking nasty you are – what’ve you been wanting to tell me huh? I know you missed me bad.”

His cockhead hits the spot that makes you spill the truth. “Fuuuck – daddy fuck me like I’m yours.” You said, “F-fuck me like I’m your wife.”

“Shit… dirty fuckin’ bitch, you talk like that and you’re gonna make me cum.” He breathes heavily into your ear, sweat already beading off his abdomen with his intensely he’s rutting into you. “You really like me, huh? Haha, yeah, I know – it’s so cute. So cute that you cum so much on this cheating cock. Uh-huh, don’t get shy on me now – we both know we get off on that. Just be honest with yourself – there we go, that wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?”

He groans, big arms entangling with your body. You can feel his muscles twitching, you can smell the scent of his cologne and sweat and sex all mixing in the air. And him? He’s burying his head into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. Your perfume drives him nuts, it makes him dizzy like he’s some lovesick teenager.

Everything he holds back from telling you, he admits when he’s pussy-drunk and about to cum. “Fuck, sweet thing, ‘wanna give you a baby. D’you want that? Yeah? F-fuck really? You sure? You want my babies? Shit alright, I’ll give you a fucking baby t’night. Don’t tell her it’s mine.” He said, tugging his cock out of your pussy despite your walls hugging him like they were trying to keep him in there forever.

You reach behind you and pull off the condom yourself, and he just watches, half-drooling at the sight, before plunging back inside you and doing what he promised – giving you his babies.

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rinhaler · 10 months

Note

holding you at gun point to write smth abt draken with this <3 (bonus points if daddy kink bc daddy issues go brrrrr)

ohhhhh my first tr writing on this blog lets gooooooooo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spit.

words: 1.1k

“Fuck—” you moan, feeling the impact of being slammed against the wall by Draken before he suffocates you as his lips encase yours. He’s so touchy, always has been, though things might have gone a tad too far this time. “K-Kenny, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Sh, baby.” he interrupts, kissing you again before he trails his lips lovingly along your jawline and gropes your breast as he starts suck kisses into your neck.

“What about Mi- What about Manjiro?” you gasp, angling your neck to give him better access to you. You suppose you aren’t truly thinking about Manjiro at all. “He’ll be s-so mad at you, and me, Kenny, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He silences you as he lifts you fully into his hold, your legs wrap around his waist and you capture him in another kiss. You can feel how hard he is, even through his jeans. And his moans, God, his fucking moans are spellbinding. You’d happily face Mikey’s wrath if it meant you can listen to Draken grunt and groan like this for you whenever you please.

“Fuck Mikey,” Draken tells you, his voice dropping a few octaves as he drops you down onto your mattress below. “I saw you first, y’know. Knew you were meant to be mine the moment I saw ya. And he fucking—” he stops himself, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him.

Desperate hands reach and grab to hold him in any capacity. But he pulls away to yank down your panties. Although, his frenzied hands are too impatient, ripping them apart with ease.

You sit upright to chase him, eager to kiss him once more. He breaks it to throw his shirt over his head into a crumpled pile at the foot of your bed. He watches you, huffing excitedly as you undo his belt and pull down his zipper.

He grabs your chin, jerking your gaze upwards so that your needy, shimmering eyes answer the question of just how much you want him. Or, rather, need him. They’re glittering with want and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier pair of eyes.

You break the stare, your head drooping as you pull down his jeans and underwear in the same eager motion.

You’re almost salivating when you see his cock for the first time. Oh, he’s perfect. His leaking cockhead is flushed beautifully as he aches for you. He’s so messy, so beautiful. And it’s all for you. He smirks upon seeing a little bit of drool form on the corner of your slack jawed mouth. He wipes it, softly, before pushing you onto your back.

“You’re fucking soaked…” he laughs softly, pushing two fingers into your tight heat and scissoring you open briefly. His hands, you’ve never failed to notice, are massive. They’re veiny and intimidating, his fingers curl deep in your walls. And they venture deep enough to have you screaming as he finds your g-spot. “I can’t wait anymore, baby, I’m sorry… hope that was enough for ya.” he warns you, pulling out his fingers and lining up his cockhead with your wet hole.

“Unff, f-fuck, Kenny…” you mewl, nails clawing into his muscular back as he splits you open on his length.

“Fuuuuuck me, baby.” he chuckles shallowly, slotting himself inside fully until he has no length left to give. And he fucks you, slow but deep. Skin slapping against skin filling the room you sleep in, usually, beside Mikey. “Your pussy’s made for me, can feel it…” he tells you, kissing you right after.

“Wanna be d-daddy shaped, p-please, fuck me hard.” you tell him. Black eyes widen with lust and adoration after hearing you speak so salaciously. A large hand frames the lower half of your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker for him. And he can’t help himself, he can’t fucking control himself. You see his mouth contort and then you’re hit with a glob of saliva, his spit landing perfectly between your lips and slithering onto your tongue.

“Swallow it, baby, g-good girl…” he struggles to keep his composure as he fucks into you. You are a good girl. So obedient, so fucking perfect. And the moan that leaves him is almost angelic as he watches you swallow his spit so beautifully. “This is daddy’s pussy, yeah? Gonna let me fuck this little cunt as much as I want, aren’t you? Until you’re fuckin’ mine.” he speaks, knowing in reality it makes no sense. You’re already his, in his mind.

Consequences be damned.

You wrap your arms around his body, holding him close as he pounds into you. You know you have to be quick about this, Manjiro could be home at any minute. But you can’t stop before you’re satisfied. Before you’re done. Before you’re fucking ready. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment as he lets himself enjoy the moment, fully.

And you practically feel his cock twitch when he pulls away to look into your pathetic wet eyes. Are you really going to cry from the pleasure? Is he making you feel that good?

“P-Put a baby in me, daddy?” you blink up at him so fucking innocently. Are you serious? Have you forgotten who you’re meant to be committed to and that you’re not meant to be doing this right now? Draken isn’t sure he heard you right. Not until you repeat it with a broken whisper and little please please please’s spilling from your lips with each thrust.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so fast in his life. Fractured moans fighting their way out of his lungs as he fucks his cum hard and deep into your unprotected womb.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he apologies, he’d had no intention of cumming that quickly. “’m not done with you.” he promises, pushing one of your knees into your chest before searching for your aching clit as you make out nastily.

Tongues and moans dizzying your brain with each swipe of his fingers.

You hope Manjiro won’t be home anytime soon.

Because you can’t get enough of his best friend.

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #ken ryuguji #tokyo revengers fanfic #draken smut #ken ryuguji smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji x y/n #tw cheating #tw breeding kink #tw daddy kink #tw spit

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spicyclover · 5 months

Text

Soft morning

Summary : Once again, we wake up in bed together. We're naked and snuggly, with brains that are still foggy and sleepy, but bodies that are ready to dance.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING : soft smut | praising | description

He kissed her gently, taking her mouth with spellbinding tenderness, tasting her sweetness. She whimpered. The vibration sizzles through him and stiffens Mick’s already erect cock. He presses his hardness against the firm, silky flesh of her bottom.

"Good morning, baby," she coos, putting her hand around his neck.

"Good morning.” Mick smiles and leans in to whisper in her ear, “I’m so hard for you.”

“And I’m wet for you.”

Her hair lies like a fan on the white pillowcase. Her breathing is slow and regular, the lateral profile of her breasts easily visible. Her nipples stiffen, magnifying the fullness of her ample curves. She is amazing. A lazy half-smile spread across her face. He traces with his fingers along her skin until his fingertips met a peaked nipple. She melted into him, pressing her warm, curvy ass against his hard-on. He grows harder. Mick press his cock against her bottom and kissed her, his tongue blazing a trail from her ear to her jaw, and finally to her hot lips.

"I love your lips on mine," He uttered his words between two tender kisses. This thought is more personal than he wants, but he can’t deny it.

She slides her hands along the muscles of his chest and their breathing develops rapidly and the pressure their tongues probe each other’s mouth. He grabs her lower lip between his teeth and she escapes a sweet moan. Pushing himself upright, he sweeps the blankets and draws a path between her chest and her hip. Then, Mick puts her on her back and presses his knees so that he can rub her clitoris on her panties, noting the increasing moisture of the fabric.

"I love mornings like this. I never want them to stop." She chuckles and bites her lips.

Blushed cheeks, and bright blue eyes, she watches him stoop to his full chest. His expression shows the raw and wild effect he has on her. She never hid it, never hid her fierce hunger for him. She is so open and needy and sexy as fuck. His chest tightens. He kisses her cheek to her jaw, licks her neck, and then lowers her scarlet and swollen breast. Her full breasts are plump with excitement, and her nipples stiffen into hard spikes. Mick devours her left nipple, sucking and sucking with need. When he bites the beaded tip, she inhales strongly, her fingers raking the skin of his back while he slips my hand into her panties.

She is completely soaked. And he needs to taste it.

He stoops down and grabs her ankles, pushing her legs up, reveling in her magnificent curves. He slips her panties half-thigh and looks at her. They closed their eyes and she smiled, that sensual smile as she let her knees fall closer to her body, exposing her most private and vulnerable part.

Perfectly styled, her pink folds shine under the soft sun that danced on her skin. Mick lifts her legs for better access and he kisses the back of the thighs. Her breath taken in anticipation of what would happen, and he slowed his descent, kissing and licking a trail along the back of his legs, a slow and deliberate torture. Finally, the need to taste her sweet flavor dominated him and he took a long, slow blow of her silky sex. As soon as his tongue meets the delicate skin of her clitoris, she gasps audibly. He slips his tongue along its smooth folds and her legs have separated in response.

"You taste like heaven." He said with a wet nose and swollen lips.

Her nectar is intoxicating and his raging cock is tense as he caresses her in long lazy strokes. She moans involuntarily and her chest rises and falls with irregular breaths. Mick reaches out his hand and rolls her tight nipple around his fingers, causing a panting moan. He looks at her face as he slips a finger into her, possessing it, then two fingers. Her lips parted, and her skin reddened with a mask of ecstasy.

Then Mick takes off her panties, slowly and surely, prolonging the sweet agony. He kisses her feet and when her panties fall on the floor, she spreads her legs, her sex quivering in anticipation. His mouth is on her the next moment and she moans, her knees falling even further. She squeezed the back of his head and forced his tongue to work until it was wet.

"More..." she moans between two breath.

He reaches down and caresses his cock, now wet with pre-um. As if she felt his urgency, she sits on the bed and pushes him on his back. His badass is heavy and thick against his belly, imploring her expert touch. She knows him like no other woman. She grabbed the base with her hand and looks so perfect wrapped around his thick root. She looked up at him, her lips parted, her mouth bending in the corner in a sneaky smile. Then she took a long blow from the crown.

The sensation explodes in him, radiating from his heart with this tongue stroke and he moans. Rejected, she took it in her hot and wet mouth. The pink lips covered his cock, his blue eyes pinned to hers she aspires, taking its length. Mick’s eyes widened when she reached the base, stunned that she could take everything. She pulls back with a firm suction and the air seems cold where her mouth has been. She pumps it and caresses his balls with her pretty hand. She licks the crown, her tongue swirls, slowly, quietly turning around and up and down, finally bringing it back into her mouth once more. Mick bends his back in feverish abandonment. His balls tighten as his cock throbs, desperately needing to sink into her, fill her, claim and own every inch of her.

"Stop, he commands, so close."

Mick gets up and pushes her unto her back, spreading her legs where he huddled at the entrance of her sex. She reaches out and grabs his cock, pumping it, sliding it against her smooth pussy. He must be inside her. Mick sinks his cock head into her pink opening and when he encounters resistance pushes further, finally breaking her tender flesh.

Her gentle moans inflame him more and the next moment he is completely buried in her, surrounded by her humid heat. Mick looks down, observing, mesmerized by the beauty of seeing his thick cock moving in and out, disappearing repeatedly in it. This is the ideal point of view to see her breasts bounce with each push, her clitoris engorged palpitating with excitement. The pleasure radiates throughout her body from the hot and tight flesh surrounding my cock.

He caresses her clitoris and using the pads of his fingers, traced the smooth opening of her slit. Then using only his middle finger, he sank into her and she trembles, her hips rising as he touches his burning core where his cock will soon follow. He fingers her with a deliberate and enticing touch as she squirms and gasps, her sex softening even more.

He rubs his head against her soft pink folds, up and down, against her clitoris. Mick repeats it several times until her whole body is a thin layer of sweat. She gasps and scratches the sheets.

"Oh, baby," she moans. "Please. I can’t wait."

Again, Mick shoves his cock into her with a weak grunt. This time, her flesh resisted only momentarily before giving way completely. He has buried himself to the hilt in her damp heat. Their flesh slips against each other, warm and smooth with sweat.

"Ooh!" She sighs when his cock reached that tender place deep inside.

"You are mine," the words come from his mouth in a guttural and wild voice.

He turns her on her stomach, pulls her hips up and he sinks into her from behind. Mick then watches as he removes his cock, the juice so thick and wet that fascinates him by the evidence of her intense excitement. Knowing how excited she is for him, she encourages him even more and he dives into her, voracious and greedy, filling her from root to tip.

He pushes his cock in and out, unable to stop himself from pushing her to the limit, taking as much as he can, as hard as he can. Her mouth is open and her breathing is fast, moans gushing from each push.

"Oh, my God," she whispered through raging breaths. "I’m so close."

The friction of his sex is accentuated by the inclination of her ass and when her hips begin to undulate, her core tightening, he knows that she is close to coming. He pounded her enraged cock into her faster and faster, grabbing her shoulders and neck to immobilize her, my hips twitching. She screams as the climax quivers through her body from head to toe.

Tension accumulates, the heart deeply coiled, excitement settles inside until finally, without warning, his climax loads and he loses all control.

“Ahh, fuck!” Mick curses. With a guttural moan his orgasm tore through him, and savagery took over. His hips jerks wildly as his cock exploded, and he spurts hot and hard inside her, angling her hips and sinking even deeper so his pulsing cock filled her with cum.

“Give it all to me baby,” she encourage as her pussy milked every last drop from him, his entire body quaking with bone-deep shudders.

Spent, Mick collapse onto her side, his body quivering in aftershocks, his mouth dry as he tries to catch his breath. She reached around and cupped his face, smiling her sexy, just-for-him smile.

Still buried deep inside his lover, he leans down to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, Micky.”

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher smut #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut

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istoleyoursk1n · 8 months

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Hii 💕 can I request where Gale,Wyll,Halsin,Astarion are cuddling with a female Tav in the middle of the night the owl bear cub walks up to them and stares before trying to cuddle her as well thank you💕 sorry to bug

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How would the boys react to Tav cuddling with them at night ft. The owlbear cub!

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Gods, does it really have to join us? Yes? Oh, fine. But don't put the poor thing near me, darling, it smells! Don't give me that look, I said what I said.”

He likes the cub don't worry

It was a quiet night with you and Astarion, one which was spent with a couple of bottles of wine and the occasional silent laughter. All but him and you were awake at this time, bickering and bantering as the alcohol slowly sank in.

It started off with his usual snarky remarks in regards to your companions (Gale), then about the various foes you've both slayed and how they were absolutely hideous. Oh, and how he nearly broke a nail. He’s devastated.

Even so, the both of you were content with each other’s presence. a sudden warmth filling his otherwise undead heart.

Though he didn't admit it out loud just yet, he had never felt more alive in his life. Every moment he spent with you was making up for all the years of suffering he had been out through.

Who knew that one quiet night alone by the campfire could make him feel… hopeful. Hopeful that whatever you both may face, he wouldn't have to stand alone in fear. He has you.

And just when he thought the moment was right. Just when he thought he could finally lean in for the sweet kiss he’d finally come to initiate himself, that was when you both heard a sudden chirp.

The face he made when he suddenly saw his midnight snack the owlbear cub nudging against you was priceless, he couldn't decide whether he wanted to curse it or awe at the poor thing.

I mean. It was an adorable sight. But gods damnit this was supposed to be his moment! Nevertheless, he settled with cuddling both you and the owlbear (to his reluctance, he's still quite bitter about it.)

: ̗̀➛GALE

“Well hello there little one! I wasn't particularly expecting to have another join such a special night but how can I to turn away this fuzzy friend of ours? Perhaps I could put on another light show! Dedicated to the both of you this time. How does that sound?”

He was in the midst of conjuring a few light spells here and there as you two nuzzled up together, giving you a tiny little light show all for you.

He simply adored the twinkle in your eyes every time he began to show a few magic tricks here and there, anything to make you smile of course.

This man would light up the sky with the most brilliant of stars for you, but trust and believe that above all the comets and moons above, you will always be the most radiant thing he could have ever admired.

He probably would have tried to teach you a simple trick or two (assuming you aren't already a knowledgeable wizard such as himself), so both of you could light up the sky together.

He could have written a hundred love letters all in your name right then and there and still, each word could never have captured just how deeply he treasures you.

All his time studying and channeling the weave in all of its forms and yet all of the comforts and powers it may hold could never compare to the ultimate bliss he feels when he's with you.

He was a mere second from pulling you closer, a tiny inch closer from finally pressing a sweetened kiss against those spellbinding lips of yours, and he would have gotten it if it weren't for the damn owlbear pouncing atop him.

He nearly screamed He was all so good at pretending not to be startled. Despite the interruption, he could hardly remain upset for long, not when the cub was this adorable! However, he still managed to wriggle a quick kiss against the corners of your lips before you eagerly brought the owlbear closer to the both of you.

He was perfectly content with sharing you with the cute little thing, both of you felt so warm, and if he could, he’d be sleeping right then and there.

He did in fact fall asleep.

: ̗̀➛WYLL

“Oh! Well, won't you look at that! Perhaps our furry little companion would love a dance lesson of his own? No? Ha! Cuddling it is then, come here! Both of you! Nothing but another sweet thing to brighten up the mood.”

He had spent most of the night dancing away with you in his arms. In the bright glowing moonlight you looked absolutely stunning in ways dreams of his own could never compare.

While he wished for this intimate dance of yours to go on for longer, he was perfectly happy with cuddling up next to you too.

Amidst the silence of the night, he would whisper every sweet little thing he's come to adore about you, describing you in ways that could have made your heart swoon again and again.

You’d always find your own hand interlocked with his as if your hands were the only things he’d ever want to hold onto. His touch was always soft, no matter how smooth or calloused your own hands may be, he treated them as if they were the most fragile thing on earth.

The one thing that would shatter him completely is if, in the midst of cuddling, you decided to gently caress his horns or the ridges on his skin, kissing them would only take the words out of his lips. His heart is wholly yours, he couldn't ask for anything more!

If he could, he’d hum a soft tune, lulling you both into a peaceful rest where for just this night and hopefully many more, you both can be lost in a calming peace.

Everything seemed perfect, specifically the perfect time to finally plant a soft kiss against your lips. A kiss he knew would light his heart ablaze and scorch him completely, body and soul- but then he heard a soft little chirp.

He felt no bitterness at all the moment he saw those wide beady eyes of the camp’s lovely little owlcub stumble along to cuddle with you both. In fact, he practically lit up! He was already scooping up the damn thing as if it was his own child, already pulling the sweet cub into a hug.

The kisses he was going to give to you were given to the little bundle of joy, but don't worry! He does have some left reserved just for you.

: ̗̀➛HALSIN

“Hm, as they say, the more the merrier. Who am I to exclude one of nature’s own from a well-needed embrace. Isn't that right, my heart? Besides, the little one is far too adorable for me to simply ignore.”

He was already practically bear-hugging you from behind, capturing you in his arms so it was a tad bit difficult to escape. Though you could tell he was being as gentle as possible, a single tug and he’d let go of you if you so wished.

His head was buried against the crook of your neck, taking in your scent which he had come to grow absolutely obsessed with. There was always something about the way you smelled that made him all the more enchanted by you.

He wouldn’t say much, not when he was this relaxed, the sounds of nature around you both were enough to fill the silence.

You could tell that he was holding back, his hands trying their hardest to remain where they were rather than completely traveling all over your body. As much as he was able to hold himself back, it was always incredibly difficult to do so.

With your permission, his hands would go everywhere, worshipping each part of you as if you were a true deity. One that he was helplessly bewitched by.

There would be a subtle twitch from his fingers each time he touched another part of your body, almost as if he was resisting to urge to go further but he remained behaved. He would save the far more intimate nights for another day as this was supposed to be something far sweeter.

However, if you begin to touch him back? He’d be on the verge of losing himself entirely. Perhaps even a soft warning would slip out of his lips, attempting to both calm himself and stop you from pressing even further less this was what you truly wanted.

In the middle of all his resistance, he’d eventually lose control, his body once more transforming into a bear just as he always does when things became far too overwhelming for your sweet Druid, it was only the sound of a tiny chirp that managed to bring him back to his senses.

He’d calm down the moment he made eye contact with the owlbear cub, his bear form smiling down at the little creature as if he was truly pleased to see the small creature. What was going to be a rather intimate long night between you two soon became a happy little snuggle pile with you, bear Halsin, and the lovely owlbear cub.

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#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanon #bg3 headcanons #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #astarion #wyll #gale #halsin

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year

Text

The Maid Of Honour & The Best Man.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this photo screamed to be written about, so here we go!

word count - 8.6k

in which, being made of honour at your best friends wedding, gabriella and cameron, meant that today was going to be a good one, scratch that a brilliant one, but that all takes a turn for the worst when it’s revealed that cameron best man is none other than your ex-boyfriend and his best friend, the days bound to take a turn for the worse now…or is it?

Today was going to be a good day. You were sure of it.

Today was the wedding of your two best friends Gabriella and Cameron, two sweethearts who both held captive their partners' heart.

It was a warm summer's morning on July 1st. Today was going to be a day filled with anticipation and excitement as the golden rays of the morning sun gently kissed the earth, signalling the arrival of a momentous occasion.

It was a day of pure joy,

In the stillness of the morning, you find yourself seated in the driver's seat of your car, having just arrived at the venue in which the wedding was taking place, a quiet observer amidst the whirlwind of activity unfolding before you. Today is a day of profound significance, for it marks the union of two souls, in a sacred bond of love. As you gaze out of the window, the scene that unfolds before your eyes is nothing short of an aesthetic masterpiece.

Soft sunlight streams through the canopy of leaves, casting a golden hue over the surroundings, as if nature itself is painting a breathtaking backdrop for this momentous occasion.

The air carries a gentle breeze, delicately rustling the vibrant blooms adorning the venue. It is a symphony of colours, with the flowers - delicate roses, lush peonies, and cascading wisteria - casting a spellbinding display that evokes a sense of enchantment.

The workers, dressed in their dedicated attire, move with graceful precision, their actions a dance of meticulous craftsmanship. Each stroke of their brushes and every delicate arrangement they create adds to the visual tapestry of beauty that envelops the venue. Their dedication and attention to detail are palpable, as they ensure that every corner exudes a sense of magic.

Guests arrive in their vehicles, each one a unique piece of the grand puzzle that is this wedding celebration. The cars, sleek and polished, line up like a procession of elegance, their presence adding a touch of sophistication to the scene. As they gracefully come to a halt, doors open to reveal the anticipation that gleams in the eyes of the guests. Their outfits are works of art themselves, carefully chosen to enhance the aesthetic of the day.

You watch in awe as the guests step out of their vehicles, their attire blending harmoniously with the surroundings. Their movements, slow and deliberate, exude a sense of reverence and respect for the occasion. They carry with them the weight of their love and support, their presence an integral part of the intricate web of connections that surround Gabriella and Cameron.

The final preparations are being meticulously attended to, like brushstrokes on a canvas. Workers delicately arrange ethereal drapes and hanging lights, transforming the venue into an ethereal wonderland. Each detail seems purposeful, each element deliberately chosen to create an aesthetic symphony that resonates with the hearts of all who bear witness.

As you sit in the driver's seat, taking in the scene before you, you feel a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the privilege of being part of this magical day, for the bond of friendship that connects you to Gabriella, and for the beauty that surrounds you. In this moment, everything seems perfectly aligned, as if the universe itself conspired to create an atmosphere of pure aesthetic bliss.

As you prepare to join the celebration, a sense of awe and excitement courses through your veins. Today is a day of love, connection, and aesthetic splendour. It is a day where beauty is not just seen but felt, where every detail weaves together to form a symphony that transcends the ordinary. And as you step out of your car, you are ready to immerse yourself in this exquisite tapestry, knowing that you are about to witness a love story unfold in the most aesthetically captivating way possible.

As you step out of your car, your mind preoccupied with nerves and excitement, fate has a different plan in store for you. In a twist of unexpected fate, your shoulder collides with someone, causing both of you to stumble back. Your heart skips a beat as you look up and find yourself locked in a moment of electrifying intensity with none other than your ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

Time seems to stand still as your eyes meet, and the world around you blurs into insignificance. The air crackles with a charged energy, and you can practically feel the seismic shift in the atmosphere. A cocktail of emotions floods your veins, mixing angst, longing, and surprise into a heady concoction that leaves you breathless.

As you regain your composure, you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Harry's piercing eyes. The moment hangs heavy with unspoken words, the weight of your shared history and unresolved feelings casting a shadow over the present.

"Harry..." you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the intensity of your emotions echoes through the single word. His name dances on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of the connection that once consumed you both.

He stands before you, an enigma of conflicting emotions. There's a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a fire that still burns from the remnants of a love that once ignited your souls. His lips curve into a half-smile, mirroring the mix of nostalgia and desire swirling within you.

"What a surprise," Harry says, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and an undercurrent of longing. The way he looks at you, as if you were a ghost from his past, sends shivers down your spine.

You find your voice, trembling with a potent blend of apprehension and curiosity. "What... what are you doing here, Harry?" you manage to utter, your words laced with a mixture of vulnerability and hope.

A wistful smile plays on his lips as he responds, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "I'm here for the wedding. Cameron's asked me to be his best man," he reveals, his words punctuating the gravity of the situation.

The realisation washes over you, adding another layer of complexity to the already tumultuous mix of emotions. The irony of the universe's cruel twist is not lost on you. Fate has brought you face to face, in the midst of this celebration of love, where the echoes of your own past love still reverberate.

A storm brews within you as you lock eyes with Harry, the unresolved tension between you threatening to consume the very air you breathe. The dramatic collision, the unexpected encounter—it all feels like a cosmic reminder of the unfinished business that binds your hearts.

You gather your strength, your voice trembling yet determined. "I never thought I'd see you here, Harry. Not after all this time," you confess, the weight of your words lingering in the charged silence between you.

You and Harry dated for two and a half years.

January 2020 to August 2022.

They were the best years of your life, you never knew that you could love someone as much as you loved Harry.

You had met his parents two months into dating and they claimed you as one of their own, you even had phone calls with Anne every now and then to catch up with each other, Harry had even dragged you on holiday with the family on multiple occasions.

So when he broke up with you, to say it was a shock would have definitely been an understatement.

Sitting on the sofa in your boyfriend's house, you can sense the heaviness in the air, a cloud of tension that has settled between you. He's been distant lately, and it's been gnawing at your heart. As you gather the courage to address the growing unease, he takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes, his expression a mix of sadness and resolve.

"There's something I need to tell you," he begins, his voice soft yet tinged with anxiety. "I've been wrestling with my feelings for a while now, and I can't ignore them any longer."

Your heart skips a beat, fearing what comes next. "What is it?" you ask, your voice trembling.

"I think it's best if we go our separate ways," he admits, his words landing like a sudden blow. The shock stings, and you feel a lump forming in your throat.

"Why?" you manage to whisper, trying to steady your trembling hands.

He takes a moment to choose his words carefully. "I've realized that our paths are leading us in different directions," he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. "As much as I care about you, I don't see a future where we're truly compatible."

Tears well up in your eyes as the weight of his decision sinks in. You struggle to find your voice, trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. "But we've been through so much together," you say, your voice shaking. "Can't we work through our differences?"

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, his touch bittersweet. "We've tried, and it hurts me to say this, but I think it's time for both of us to find happiness apart," he replies, his voice tinged with regret.

The pain in your chest intensifies, and you feel like the ground beneath you is giving way. "I still love you," you admit, the vulnerability in your voice laid bare.

He looks at you with a mix of affection and anguish. "I'll always care about you," he replies softly. "But sometimes, love isn't enough to sustain a relationship."

As tears spill down your cheeks, you can't help but feel a sense of loss and heartache. The realization that the person you once envisioned a future with now sees a different path sends shivers down your spine.

When you and Harry broke up, you ran straight to Gabrielle’s house, and the second she opened her door you launched yourself into her arms and sobbed.

You always thought that you and Harry would be a forever thing.

But clearly he had different plans.

Longing to escape the whirlwind of feelings that have consumed you. You're about to take your first step away from him, eager to get inside to see your best friend but a gentle touch on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

Your ex-boyfriend's voice, soft and filled with a mix of hope and desperation, reaches your ears.

"Can we talk later?" he asks, his words carrying a plea for another chance at closure.

You pause, feeling the weight of his touch and the intensity of his gaze. But something inside you resists, a self-protective instinct urging you to shield yourself from further heartache. Ignoring his request, you withdraw your wrist from his grasp and without looking back, you continue your journey towards the entrance of the wedding venue.

With the dress secured in your arms, you gracefully weave your way through the elegant décor and the fluttering excitement, trying to keep Harry at the back of your mind. The workers' diligent efforts have transformed the venue into a picturesque scene straight out of a fairy tale.

As you draw closer to the entrance, you catch a glimpse of Gabriella's parents greeting guests with warm embraces, their eyes reflecting the love and pride they feel for their daughter. You share a heartfelt hug with them, expressing your gratitude for their kindness and hospitality.

The entrance looms before you, adorned with an arch of delicate flowers that seems to welcome you into a realm of enchantment. You can hear the soft melody of music floating on the breeze, adding to the anticipation of the imminent ceremony.

With each step, your heart beats with greater excitement. The air is charged with emotion, as if it knows that this day holds a significance that will linger in the memories of all who attend.

But one thought lingers in the back of your mind.

And his name was Harry.

As you make your way into the bustling bridal suite, a rush of excitement fills the air. The room is abuzz with anticipation and joy, the sweet fragrance of flowers mingling with the soft murmur of conversations. As soon as you step inside, your best friend Gabriella catches sight of you and a beaming smile spreads across her face.

"There you are!" she exclaims, her voice filled with excitement. Without a moment's hesitation, she rushes towards you, pulling you into a plush seat by the makeup station. "You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this day!"

You laugh, feeling a surge of warmth at Gabriella's infectious energy. "I've been counting down the days too, Gabs. You look absolutely stunning already!"

Gabriella's eyes sparkle with delight as she gestures to the team of talented hair and makeup artists. "Well, now it's your turn to shine! We're going to make you the most beautiful maid of honor ever!"

As the artists begin their work, the room fills with laughter and chatter. Gabriella sits beside you, her excitement palpable as she watches the transformation unfold. "I want everything to be perfect today," she confides, her voice brimming with emotion. "Having you by my side means the world to me, and I want you to feel just as special."

Touched by her words, you reach out and squeeze her hand. "Gabriella, I'm honored to be here with you on this day. You've always been there for me, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure your wedding is everything you've dreamed of."

Gabriella's eyes well up with tears of happiness. "Thank you, my dear friend. Your support means everything to me."

As the artists work their magic, the conversation continues, weaving through memories and shared laughter. Gabriella reminisces about the journey that led to this day, the ups and downs, and the love that has brought her and Cameron together.

"And do you remember when we used to dream about our future weddings?" Gabriella asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

You laugh, a nostalgic fondness colouring your voice. "Oh, yes! We'd spend hours discussing the perfect dresses, the romantic venues, and the dreamy first dances. It's amazing to see those dreams become a reality for you."

Speaking of weddings, was now an appropriate time to ask her when Cam asked Harry to be his best man?

Probably not.

Gabriella sighs dreamily. "I couldn't have asked for a better partner in life than Cameron. And having you here, sharing in this moment, makes it even more special."

"Gabriella, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you," you say, your voice filled with sincerity. "You deserve all the love and happiness in the world, and I'll be your biggest cheerleader, no matter what."

Tears shimmer in Gabriella's eyes as she envelops you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, my dear friend. I couldn't ask for a better maid of honour."

As the final touches are being made to your hair and makeup, you find a moment to confide in Gabriella, your best friend and the radiant bride-to-be. The room is filled with a sense of excitement and anticipation, but there's a question nagging at the back of your mind that you can no longer ignore.

"Gabs, I have to tell you something," you begin, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. "I bumped into Harry outside before coming in here. He said he's Cameron's best man. When did that happen? And why didn't you mention it?"

Gabriella's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily taken aback by your revelation. She pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts before responding.

"Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't mention it earlier," she says, her voice laced with regret. "Cam asked Harry to be his best man a few weeks ago. It was a decision they made together."

Your brow furrows slightly, not out of anger but from a genuine need to understand. "I understand that, Gabs, but why didn't you tell me? We used to share everything, and this caught me off guard."

Gabriella's expression softens, and she reaches out to take your hand, a gesture of reassurance. "I'm really sorry if it seemed like I was keeping it from you. It's just that things have been so hectic with the wedding preparations, and I didn't want to overwhelm you with any unnecessary emotions or complications."

You nod, understanding her perspective, but a mix of emotions swirl within you. "I appreciate your concern, Gabs, but Harry and I have history. I just wish I had known he would be here. It caught me off guard, and it brought back a flood of feelings that I thought I had put behind me."

Gabriella's gaze holds a depth of empathy as she gently squeezes your hand. "I understand, and I'm really sorry you had to go through that. But I want you to know that I value our friendship, and I never intended to cause you any pain."

You take a deep breath, allowing her words to sink in. The love and understanding in her eyes reassure you that this conversation is one of transparency and genuine care. "I know, Gabs. I'm not angry with you. I just wanted to talk and understand what happened. And I want you to know that I'm here to support you and make sure your day is perfect."

Gabriella's smile returns, a mix of gratitude and relief. "Thank you, my dear friend. Your presence alone means the world to me, and I'm so grateful to have you by my side today. Let's focus on celebrating love and creating beautiful memories together."

As the final preparations in the bridal suite come to a close, it's time for you to slip into your maid of honour dress, adorned with elegance and grace. With gentle hands, you carefully remove the plastic covering, revealing the exquisite fabric beneath. Each movement is deliberate, a testament to the significance of this moment.

As you step into the dress, its soft fabric drapes around you, embracing your form with a sense of purpose. Adjusting the straps and ensuring every detail is in place, you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's emotions settle upon your shoulders.

The dress that Gabriella had picked out for you was sage green. The skirt was flowy and it had a slit up the inside to create some air space for you. There was a floral lace pattern adorning the bodice and it hugged your figure perfectly.

With one last glance in the mirror, you step out of the changing area and into the main room. And there, standing before you, is Gabriella, resplendent in her wedding dress. The sight of her takes your breath away, and tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

As you step out of the changing area, your gaze immediately lands on Gabriella, resplendent in her wedding dress. The sight of her takes your breath away, and tears well up in your eyes, overwhelming you with emotion.

"Gabriella," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of joy and sentimentality. "You look absolutely breathtaking. This moment, it's everything we've ever dreamed of."

Gabriella's eyes shimmer with tears, mirroring your own. She reaches out a hand, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, my dear friend. You've been there for me through it all, and having you by my side today means the world to me."

Unable to contain the surge of emotion within your heart, tears spill down your cheeks as you take a step closer to Gabriella. "I am so incredibly happy for you. This is your fairytale moment, and I'm honored to be a part of it."

She pulls you into a warm embrace, the layers of tulle from her dress enveloping you both. "I couldn't have asked for a better maid of honor," Gabriella whispers, her voice filled with sincerity. "You've been my rock, my confidante, and my source of strength. Today, let's make unforgettable memories together."

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of nostalgia and excitement. "Absolutely, Gabs. This is a day to celebrate love, friendship, and the beautiful journey that has brought you and Cameron to this point."

As you and Gabriella are caught up in the embrace of the moment, a soft knock on the door interrupts the tranquility. You turn your gaze towards the door, and there stands Gabriella's father, a warm smile on his face.

"Gabriella, my love, it's time," he says, his voice filled with a mix of pride and tenderness. "The guests are eagerly awaiting your entrance."

Gabriella's eyes meet her father's, a mixture of excitement and nervousness filling the room. She takes a deep breath, releasing herself from your embrace, and steps towards him. "Thank you, Daddy. I'm ready."

He extends his arm, offering it to Gabriella. "Shall we, my beautiful daughter?"

With a nod, Gabriella places her hand in her father's, and together they step out of the room, leaving behind a trail of anticipation and love.

As the maid of honor, you follow closely behind, joining the other bridesmaids in a line that forms behind Gabriella and her father. The air is electric with excitement, and each step feels like a dance, a rhythmic cadence leading you closer to the moment when love will be proclaimed before all.

The hallway is adorned with delicate flowers, their fragrance lingering in the air. Whispers of encouragement and last-minute adjustments to dresses fill the space. Each bridesmaid shares a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the role you play in this momentous occasion.

With each step towards the aisle, your heart beats in synchrony with the music that softly fills the venue. The weight of the day's emotions settles upon your shoulders, but you draw strength from the collective energy surrounding you.

As you reach the entrance to the aisle, the space opens up before you, revealing a sea of smiling faces. The anticipation is palpable, and the love that radiates from the guests is a testament to the profound impact Gabriella and Cameron's relationship has had on their lives.

As the bridesmaids gracefully make their way down the aisle, the air is filled with a palpable sense of anticipation. Your heart skips a beat as you step forward, one foot in front of the other, following in the footsteps of your fellow bridesmaids. The soft notes of the music guide your every movement, as if leading you towards destiny.

As you walk down the aisle, you can't help but feel the weight of each step, the significance of this moment seeping into your very being. And then, it happens. Your eyes meet the gaze of Harry, standing next to Cameron with a small smile gracing his lips. Time seems to stand still for a fleeting second, as a surge of emotions rushes through you.

In that instant, memories of your past love flood your mind. You can't help but imagine how it would have felt to have Harry standing beside you on your own wedding day, promising forever to one another. The thought stirs a bittersweet ache deep within your heart.

But as quickly as the thoughts come, you remind yourself of the present, of Gabriella's radiant joy and the love she has found in Cameron. The smile on Harry's face, though filled with a hint of longing, serves as a reminder that life has taken its own course.

As the memories flood back, a vivid flashback transports you to a time when everything between you and Harry felt blissfully perfect.

It was a sunny afternoon, and you both found yourselves strolling hand in hand along a picturesque beach.

The golden sand stretched out before you, a canvas of possibility, as the waves crashed against the shore in a soothing rhythm. The salty breeze whispered promises of a future filled with love and shared dreams. At that moment, it seemed like the world belonged solely to the two of you.

As you walked, your fingers intertwined, Harry's voice broke the comfortable silence.

"You know," he said, his eyes locked onto yours, his voice filled with an earnestness that tugged at your heart. "One day, I'm going to marry you."

You stopped in your tracks, your heart leaping in your chest. A mixture of surprise and delight filled your being, as you searched his eyes for any hint of doubt. But all you found was unwavering love and a conviction that mirrored your own.

A smile spread across your face, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. "You really mean that, don't you?"

Harry's grip tightened around your hand, his eyes never wavering from yours. "I mean it with every fibre of my being. You are my everything, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else but you."

In that moment, the world seemed to pause, as if granting you a glimpse into the future, a future where the promise of forever was within your grasp. The weight of his words settled in your heart, igniting a fire of hope and love that would burn brightly for years to come.

With tears of joy and a heart overflowing with love, you threw your arms around Harry, your embrace sealing the unspoken vows that resonated between you. Time stood still as you revelled in the sheer beauty of his declaration, knowing that this was just the beginning of an extraordinary love story.

But now, standing in the present, you are reminded that life doesn't always follow the script we envision. Paths diverge, hearts change, and the once-unbreakable bond may shift and fracture. And yet, the memory of his words lingers, a testament to the depth of the connection you once shared.

As Gabriella and her father make their way down the aisle, a radiant glow surrounds them. The delicate strains of the music fill the air, creating an atmosphere of enchantment. You watch with awe and admiration, feeling the weight of the moment in your very core.

Turning your gaze towards Cameron, the groom, your heart swells with emotions. There, standing at the end of the aisle, you see tears streaming down his face, mirroring the overwhelming joy and love that fills his heart. It's a testament to the depth of his feelings for Gabriella, a visible expression of his immense happiness.

The sight of Cameron's tears warms your soul, reaffirming the strength of the love that unites this couple. It's a reminder that true love has the power to move us to our very core, evoking emotions that cannot be contained.

As you shift your attention, your eyes meet Harry's intense gaze. There he stands, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of emotions flickering in his expression. Time seems to stand still as your eyes connect, memories flooding your mind, and an unspoken understanding passes between you.

In that fleeting moment, a whirlwind of emotions unfolds. The unspoken connection you share with Harry resurfaces, a reminder of the love that once burned bright. Despite the passage of time and the paths you have each taken, the spark remains, a testament to the depth of the bond you once shared.

But as quickly as the moment arrives, you tear your gaze away, focusing once more on the unfolding ceremony. This day is not about what might have been or the complexities of the past. It's about Gabriella and Cameron, their love, and the promise of a beautiful future together.

With a deep breath, you redirect your attention towards the couple, their radiant smiles shining through tear-streaked faces. The moment is too precious to be clouded by the lingering echoes of a different time.

As the ceremony continues, you find solace in the knowledge that even if paths have diverged, the impact of the past remains. The love you once shared with Harry has shaped you, and the lessons learned have paved the way for the person you've become.

In this bittersweet moment, you choose to embrace the present, to honour the love that binds Gabriella and Cameron, and to celebrate the beauty of their union. The future may hold uncertainties, but for now, you stand as a witness to the joy and the promise of their love, ready to support them with unwavering loyalty.

The vicar cleared his throat, before addressing the crowd of awaiting guests.

“We are gathered here today, in this beautiful place to witness the joining of two lives. Gabriella Eden Clark and Cameron Curtis Callister.”

The after party of the wedding goes into full swing, the air alive with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. You find yourself standing at the bar,empty glass in hand and a sombre smile painted across your facial features.

As you stand at the bar, contemplating your drink options, the bartender, a charming and flirtatious individual, approaches with a warm smile. "What can I get you, beautiful?" he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful admiration.

You can't help but blush at the compliment, feeling a bit flustered by his attention.

"I'll have a gin and tonic, please," you respond, trying to maintain a composed demeanour.

The bartender quickly prepares your drink, and as he hands it to you, he leans in slightly, his eyes playfully meeting yours. "You seem like you could use a bit of cheering up. Tough day?"

You chuckle softly, feeling a hint of flirtation in the air. "You could say that. But it's a wedding, right? Shouldn't I be all smiles?"

"Well, smiles don't always tell the whole story," the bartender replies with a knowing grin. "Sometimes, there's a lot more going on beneath the surface."

You can't help but be drawn into the conversation, finding solace in the casual banter. The bartender seems perceptive, almost as if he can sense the complexities of your emotions.

Before the exchange can go any further, a familiar figure steps in, and you feel the atmosphere shift. It's Harry, wearing a strained smile as he casually places his hand on the small of your back. "Hey, babe, sorry to interrupt. Can I get you a drink?"

You raise an eyebrow, both surprised and irritated by his sudden intrusion. "I already ordered a gin and tonic," you reply, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

The bartender glances between you and Harry, sensing the tension in the air, but he remains polite and professional. He serves you the drink and gives a nod to Harry before excusing himself to tend to other customers.

Harry leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with frustration. "Can we talk, please? I don't like seeing you talking to other guys."

You roll your eyes, feeling a mixture of annoyance and longing. "Harry, we broke up. You don't get to be jealous anymore."

His jaw tightens, a sign that his emotions are getting the best of him. "I know, but seeing you with someone else... it's not easy."

You cross your arms, trying to hold your ground. "You left me, Harry. You made the decision to end things between us. So, I have every right to move on."

"I know I messed up," he admits, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "But that doesn't mean I've stopped caring about you."

The raw honesty in his voice pulls at your heartstrings, reminding you of the deep connection you once shared. But it also reignites the frustration of the unresolved feelings that continue to linger between you.

"Harry, it's not that simple," you say softly, trying to convey the complexity of your emotions.

"I know," he replies, his voice softening. "But just for tonight, can we try to put the past aside? I don't want to ruin Gabriella's day, and I don't want to see you hurt."

You take a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I won't let anything ruin her day, Harry. And as for me, I'll be fine. I promise."

The emotions in his eyes are raw and genuine, a reminder of the connection that once bound you together. But the wounds of the past still feel fresh, and you know that pretending won't heal them.

"I should go find Gabriella," you say, breaking the silence.

You step away from Harry, determined to find Gabriella and immerse yourself in the joyous celebration once again. The echoes of your conversation with him still reverberate in your mind, the angst and longing echoing through your heart.

As you make your way through the crowd, searching for the familiar sight of your best friend, the music fills the air, the rhythm offering a temporary respite from the tangled emotions that have consumed you.

Finally, you spot Gabriella, radiant in her wedding dress, surrounded by friends and family. She notices you and her face lights up, a smile stretching from ear to ear. You can't help but smile back, her happiness infectious and momentarily overshadowing the complexities of your own emotions.

"Hey, there you are!" she exclaims, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I've been looking everywhere for you. How are you holding up?"

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you return her embrace, feeling a surge of love and pride for your best friend. "I'm... I'm okay, really. Just a bit overwhelmed with everything."

Gabriella studies your face, her eyes full of understanding. "I know it's not easy seeing Harry here. But I promise you, today is about celebrating love and new beginnings. And that includes your happiness too."

Her words strike a chord within you, reminding you of the bigger picture and the importance of finding your own path forward. You take a deep breath, finding solace in Gabriella's unwavering support.

"I know, Gabby. I'm so happy for you and Cameron," you say, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I wouldn't let anything ruin this day for you."

Gabriella smiles warmly, a mix of gratitude and empathy shining in her eyes. "Thank you, bestie. Now, let's enjoy the rest of this celebration together. We'll make beautiful memories that will last a lifetime."

As the lively chatter fills the air, the clinking of glasses and the laughter of guests echoing through the reception hall, a hush falls over the room as the emcee takes the stage. The DJ lowers the music, allowing the focus to shift to the front of the room where the bridal party gathers.

You watch as Cameron's best friend, Harry, stands up, a mix of nerves and excitement evident on his face. The crowd's attention turns to him, eager to hear his words of praise and heartfelt anecdotes.

With a deep breath, Harry steps forward, his eyes scanning the room before settling on the newlyweds, Gabriella and Cameron, standing side by side. The microphone in his hand seems to provide a sense of grounding as he begins his speech, his voice carrying with a blend of sincerity and charm.

“Hi…hello. For those of you who don’t have the pleasure of knowing me, m’names Harry and I’ve got the privilege of being Cameron’s best man. And when he asked me I just knew for a fact that I had to say yes. There was no doubt about it.

I’ve had the privilege of knowing Cam for twenty years now, in fact I was the one who introduced him to Gabriella.”

You sat next to Gabriella on the family table where the bride and groom, the parents and the beat man sat.

When Cameron met Gabriella, it was also the same day that you met Harry. At a bar downtown approximately three years ago.

On a balmy summer evening, you and Gabriella decided to escape to a vibrant beach bar, seeking the embrace of salty air and the rhythmic crashing of waves. The soft glow of tiki torches and the melodic tunes drifting from the stage set the perfect ambiance for a memorable night.

As you settled at a cosy table with Gabriella, laughter and chatter filled the air, creating an atmosphere of carefree joy. It was then that two intriguing men approached your table, their smiles both charismatic and inviting.

One of them caught Gabriella's attention immediately. His charisma was undeniable, and his playful banter made her giggle like a schoolgirl. It was Cameron, a man whose easygoing nature and warm presence resonated with her.

“Well, hello there. You certainly know how to make an entrance!" Your best friend giggled, twirling a strand of her her hair.

Cameron showed off his pearly whites. "I couldn't resist coming over when I saw two beautiful ladies enjoying themselves. Mind if we join you?"

Gabriella grinned, "Not at all! I'm Gabriella, and this is my best friend (Y/N)."

While Gabriella was swept away by the instant connection with Cameron, your attention was captured by the other man standing before you. It was Harry, the renowned singer and actor, whose mere presence was enough to make hearts skip a beat. His eyes met yours, and in that moment, it felt as though time stood still.

"Good evening. I couldn't help but notice your radiant smile from across the bar. Mind if I take a seat?" Harry had a charming smile on his face.

You blushed. “Of course, please join us. I'm (Y/N). It's a pleasure to meet you."

From that point on, conversation flowed effortlessly. With Cameron and Gabriella engrossed in their own world, you found yourself immersed in a captivating dialogue with Harry. Topics ranging from music and movies to life's profound questions filled the air, weaving a tapestry of connection between you both.

“M’harry, and it’s a pleasure to meet y’aswell, love.” Harry took the seat closest to you and offered you a small smile. “So what brings the two to the bar tonight?”

“I was kind of hoping that I’d be the best looking person in the room today, but I must say Gabriella…you're giving me a run for my money over here.”

You swallowed. There was no doubt about it that he was the best looking man in the room.

He had a black suit on, the jacket open revealing a white tank top that hung low against his chest revealing his swallow tattoos and the cross necklace that was wrapped around his neck as well as the beaded necklace that you had gifted him for your first anniversary.

You had only just noticed that he was still wearing it.

“I would like to thank Cam and G for allowing me this honour today. As I don't feel it can be said enough, I'd also like to thank everyone who has worked so hard to ensure that this special day for the bride and groom has been so perfect.

Cam you are one of the cleverest, most loyal, generous, char charm…Sorry, I can't read your writing. You'll just have to tell me that part later. Seriously though, Cameron is one of the highest-quality people I know and is an invaluable friend. He's the kind of friend who asks you how your day is, and really wants to know.”

Always the jokester.

“Gabby, you've snagged yourself a great catch. And Gabby, you definitely bring out the best qualities in Cameron and make him very happy. I could tell how special you were when Cam called me up after your first date. He finally got off the phone after two hours. I have a lot to thank you two for.

Now that you're married, you have been officially promoted from when is the wedding, to when are you having kids!!”

You watched as he turned to look at the bride and groom.

“Cam, take G’s hand and place your hand over hers. Now remember this moment and cherish it because this will be the last time you'll ever have the upper hand!!! Lastly, remember to always communicate and try not to go to sleep angry at each other.

At this time I ask everyone to raise their glass:

Here is to love, laughter, and a happily ever after, Cameron and Gabriella your fairy tale is only beginning.

Cheers.”

You as well as all of the other guests raised your glasses up in there air and you couldn’t help but feel your eyes well up slightly.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever have a day like this.

A day where you felt you were loved and enough to be called someone’s wife.

As the enchanting melodies fill the air, casting a magical spell over the dance floor, you find yourself sitting alone at a table, a small slice of wedding cake resting on your plate. The bittersweet taste of the frosting lingers on your lips, mirroring the mix of emotions swirling within your heart.

From your vantage point, you watch Gabriella and Cameron take to the center of the dance floor, bathed in soft, romantic lights. They move gracefully together, their steps choreographed in perfect harmony. The love and happiness radiating from their embrace is palpable, filling the room with an undeniable warmth.

While everyone around you immerses themselves in the joyful celebration, laughter and smiles filling the space, you can't help but feel a profound sense of sadness and longing. It's as if the world has come alive with love and happiness, but you're trapped in a web of anguished emotions.

You take another bite of the cake, savoring the sweetness that contrasts with the bitter ache in your chest. The layers of fluffy sponge and decadent frosting seem to melt in your mouth, offering a fleeting moment of solace amidst the melancholy that weighs you down.

As the music swells, intertwining with the laughter and applause, you watch as Gabriella rests her head on Cameron's shoulder, her eyes shining with adoration. Their connection is undeniable, a love story unfolding before your very eyes.

In this moment, you can't help but wonder what could have been. If circumstances had been different, if Harry hadn't left, would you too be sharing a dance, lost in a world of your own? The thought stings, reminding you of the love you once shared, and the dreams that now lay shattered.

Lost in your thoughts, you fail to notice the curious glances and concerned whispers from friends and family. They try to pull you into the festivities, urging you to join the dance floor, but your heart feels heavy, anchored to a past that refuses to release its hold.

You watch as couples twirl and sway, the music carrying them in its embrace. Each step seems to magnify your solitude, intensifying the pain of being left behind. The angsty turmoil within you grows, like a tempest brewing in the depths of your soul.

Yet, even in the midst of your sadness, a small glimmer of hope flickers. It reminds you that this is just a chapter in your life, and that healing will come with time. As difficult as it may be, you know that you must navigate the stormy sea of emotions, facing the waves of uncertainty and emerging stronger on the other side.

With a sigh, you set aside the half-eaten slice of cake, no longer finding solace in its sweetness. The dance continues, the music carrying the echoes of love and joy throughout the room. And though you may feel lost in this moment, you remain hopeful that someday, your own dance of happiness will come, guiding you towards a brighter tomorrow.

Feeling a mix of emotions and a longing for some fresh air, you decided to excuse yourself from the bustling dance floor. Stepping out into the cool night, you found solace leaning against the venue's exterior wall, your phone grasped firmly in your hand, contemplating whether to call an Uber and retreat to the comfort of solitude.

Just as you were about to tap on the Uber app, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd and made their way towards you. It was Harry, his presence surprising yet oddly discomforting in that moment.

Harry approached with a conflicted expression. "Hey there, (Y/N) Mind if I join you for a moment?"

You let out a soft sigh, to tired to argue with him and push him away. "Harry...What do you want?"

As Harry closed the distance between you, tension hung thick in the air. The atmosphere crackled with unresolved emotions and lingering wounds.

Harry spoke gently. "I saw you step outside and thought I'd check on you. Can we talk? There’s a few things I would like to say."

You nodded your head, tilting it up to properly look at him. "Fine, talk. But don't think it changes anything."

Harry paused slightly, his voice filled with regret. "I made a mistake, (Y/N). Breaking up with you was the biggest regret of my life. I still love you, and I want you back more than anything.”

Your voice was trembling with anger. "You want me back? After all this time? You're unbelievable, Harry. You broke my heart, and now you expect me to just forgive and forget?"

“I know I messed up, but I've realised what we had was special. I can't imagine my life without you, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it right." Harry was starting to get defensive.

"You don't get it, do you? You left me broken, questioning my worth. And now you waltz back into my life, claiming you still love me? It's too late, Harry. I've moved on." Your voice was laced with pain as you replied.

Harry was full of pleading now. "But I love you. Can't you see that? We can work through this. Please, give us another chance."

Your voice was trembling, tears welling up in your eyes. "Love isn't enough, Harry. Trust was shattered, and scars remain. I can't go back to that pain. We can't keep hurting each other."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future. A torrent of emotions swirled within you, torn between the love you once shared and the wounds that still lingered.

“I still love you, (Y/N), And I know deep down, you still love me too. We can't deny what's between us." Harry spoke softly.

Your voice was quivering. "Maybe we do... but love isn't always enough. We both deserve to find happiness and heal. It's time to let go, Harry."

He was getting frustrated. "How can you say that? We can't just give up on what we had. We fought for each other before, we can do it again."

"I fought for us, Harry. I fought to keep our love alive, but you gave up. You walked away when things got tough. I can't go through that again." Your voice was filled with pain with every word you spoke to him.

He was trying not to get angry. "I made a mistake, okay? I messed up, but I'm here now, begging for another chance. Can't you see how much I still love you?"

Your voice was shaking with anger. "Love is not enough when trust is shattered. How can I believe that you won't leave again when things get difficult? I can't keep living in fear of being abandoned."

The emotions spiraled out of control, hurtful words exchanged in the heat of the moment. Pain radiated from both of you, as the scars of the past resurfaced with a vengeance.

“I never stopped loving you, [Your Name]. I regret what I did every day. Please, give me a chance to prove that I've changed." His voice was breaking.

Tears were streaming down your face. "I wish it were that simple, Harry. But trust isn't rebuilt overnight. It takes time, effort, and a willingness to face our demons. I don't know if we're capable of that anymore."

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, suffocating the hope that lingered in your hearts. The love you once shared seemed overshadowed by the pain and doubts that had consumed your relationship.

"I can't let you go, (Y/N). You're the one who got away, the one I can't imagine living without. Please, don't shut me out completely." Harry’s voice was filled with desperation.

You felt like giving up completely. “I never wanted to shut you out, Harry. But sometimes, moving on is the only way to heal. We need to find our own paths, our own happiness. It's time to say goodbye."

As you stood outside, your emotions still raw from the intense conversation, you felt a gentle touch on your arm. You turned to find Harry standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

Harry spoke softly. "(Y/N) I know we've been through so much, and we both made mistakes. But deep down, I believe we still have something worth fighting for."

You looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity, and found a glimmer of the love that once connected you. A hesitant smile formed on your lips, and before you could say a word, Harry closed the distance between you, pulling you into an embrace.

In that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, holding onto each other tightly. The weight of the past started to lift as the power of your love resurfaced.

As your lips met, it felt like a floodgate of emotions was released. The passion and longing that had been suppressed for so long found an outlet in this one simple act of reconnection. The kiss was filled with tenderness, forgiveness, and a renewed sense of hope.

As you and Harry pulled away from the passionate kiss, your eyes locked once again, and you could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. In that tender moment, you found the courage to express what your hearts had been longing to say.

“Harry, I..." You whispered into the air, only to get interrupted.

Harry interrupted you gently. "I love you, (Y/N). I've always loved you, and I never stopped, I don’t think I ever could stop loving you…you own every fibre of my being."

A rush of emotions washed over you, filling your heart with warmth and reassurance. The love that had endured through time and distance was finally being acknowledged, breaking down the barriers that had kept you apart.

You were smiling, tears of joy glistening in your eyes. "I love you, Harry. With all my heart."

And that love would never fault. Not after you’ve finally got him back.

The nights you couldn’t sleep because you missed his warmth and his embrace had all led to this very moment.

The moment you finally had him back in your arms.

In that moment, the world seemed to pause, and the whispers of "I love you" echoed in the night. It was a declaration of love that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words and the promise of a future filled with love, understanding, and growth.

As you held each other tightly, your hearts intertwined once again, you knew that this love was worth fighting for. And as you turned to rejoin the celebration, hand in hand, the words "I love you" echoed in your minds, creating a harmonious symphony of love, hope, and a promise of a beautiful future together.

Unbeknownst to you, Cameron and Gabriella had stepped outside and witnessed the passionate embrace. They exchanged knowing glances, their smiles speaking volumes. They had always believed in the deep connection you and Harry shared, and seeing it unfold before their eyes only affirmed their faith in true love.

Cameron whispered to his wife. "I told you they were meant to be together. Love like theirs doesn't just disappear."

It really didn’t and it never would.

1K notes · View notes

yukidragon · 11 days

Text

Sunny Day Jack - My Joseph

In an effort to keep perfectionism from sabotaging my attempts to write and share said writing, I've decided to do more spur of the moment writing exercises. Last time I had a bit of a writing prompt about Joseph growing old with his beloved to inspire me. This time I decided to finish a WIP from a while back that was only a few paragraphs long and see where it took me.

Where it took me was a very smutty 1st person perspective romp about a gender-neutral MC wanting to mark their claim on Joseph.

Content Warnings: This story contains graphic sex with a spicy hint of yandere possessiveness. This story is for 18+ Adults Only.

Also please don't mind the rough spots. This is a first draft, off the cuff exercise to encourage myself to just have more fun with just the act of writing itself. I want to stop psyching myself out of creating and sharing my work even if it isn't perfect. I hope you enjoy this spicy tale and please let me know if you do. 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

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I was so happy that Joseph was doing what he loved. I wanted to support him as much as possible. He was a star, and the way he shined was absolutely spellbinding. How could everyone not love him?

However, after spending hours watching a crowd of fans adoring him, too many flirting with him, I just had to stake my claim on my Joseph once we were alone. Kiss marks didn’t have the staying power of his tattoos, but the sight of him covered in them, moaning in bliss each time I made a new one would stay with me forever.

Joseph was a big man, tall and muscular. Even dressed as a clown he was intimidating despite his charming smile. In his arms I felt positively tiny. He could crush me easily if he wanted, and I felt a thrill knowing that he never would… unless I asked him to.

Most of the time I enjoyed letting him take control, but right now I wanted Joseph at my mercy for a change. He hadn’t expected the ambush the second he entered his dressing room, my body pinning his against the door to force it closed. His wide-eyed look of shock was almost as delicious as his lips when I stole a kiss from him, stifling a yelp that sounded suspiciously like my name.

Those big strong hands of his roamed across my body, caressing and squeezing as he pleased. The feeling of his tongue twining with mine left me feeling lightheaded, but I refused to be swept away or allow him to reverse our positions. I countered his attempt to take control by sliding my leg between his and grinding against his crotch. He broke the kiss with a breathless gasp, his grip tightening on my hips, and I smiled as I felt him go hard against me.

“Shit, Sunshine,” Joseph moaned breathlessly. “What… what brought this on?” He paused to let out a breathless chuckle. “Not that I’m complaining…”

“I want you all to myself for a change,” I said, my voice husky, almost a growl, before I pressed on with my attack. His breathing hitched as I kissed his neck, and he tipped his head back to give me room to suck on his skin. I could feel the way his breath shuddered as he moaned my name, and I relished the way he submitted to me. “I missed you.”

His skin tasted of salt and smoke, and I relished that flavor that was distinctly Joseph. I raked my teeth against his Adam’s apple lightly and felt it bob as he swallowed. I sucked on him there to feel it move again and leave another hickey behind.

“I m-missed you too…,” Joseph responded in a shaky voice that I felt against my lips before he let out a gasp and a delicious moan of my name.

Though Joseph let me devour and mark his throat, he just couldn’t remain idle. His hands went down my pants to squeeze my ass and it took all my willpower not to make an embarrassing sound. “F-fuck!”

Joseph shushed me before flashing me that damn cheeky smile of his. “Careful, Sunshine,” he whispered breathlessly. “We don’t want to get caught do we?”

Oh no he didn’t. Joseph wasn’t going to give me that smoldering look and make me melt into a puddle this time. I was in control, and I was going to make sure he knew it.

“Of course not,” I practically purred. “So you better keep your voice down.”

The flicker of surprise on Joseph’s face turned into a wide-eyed stare as I suddenly pulled his pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. My attack on his neck served as a perfect distraction so that he wouldn’t notice me taking care of that silly smiling belt of his.

I slid down to my knees to get a good look at his cock, fully erect and ready for me. I caught the small amount of precum already beading on the tip on my tongue, getting a taste of salt and sex.

“Fuck…,” Joseph moaned my name as he took hold of my head with both hands. “God, yes.”

Now was the time to mark my territory just the way I rehearsed it in my head. I looked up at Joseph through my eyelashes, doing my best to set him ablaze with my eyes alone the way he always did so effortlessly. “You like that, Starlight?”

“Of course. What’s not to love?” Joseph chuckled in a husky, breathless tone. “I love seeing you like this for me, Sunshine… so beautiful and eager for me.”

I did my best to ignore the way his sweet silver tongue could send my heart racing. I focused instead on tracing the underside of his cock with my fingertips, making it twitch at my feather light touch. “Then tell me… who’s the only one who gets to see you like this?”

“You, Sunshine,” Joseph said without hesitation before saying my name with so much affection that it sent my insides fluttering. “Only you.”

I suppose it was too much to expect Joseph to be caught off-guard enough to sputter or fluster at my boldness, especially not after how many times we’ve made love, but this wasn’t a bad result either. “That’s right,” I cooed as I took hold of his cock, eliciting a low breathy moan from him. “You’re mine, Joseph.”

“And you’re mine,” Joseph said, his voice tender yet throaty. “Now and forever.”

“Forever,” I echoed, and the knot that was in my chest since he was surrounded by that mob of lustful housewives loosened a bit. It was so hard not to soften completely and let things fall back into their usual rhythm, but I was determined to assert my dominance a little longer. I brought a commanding edge back to my voice. “Now, tell me what you want.”

Joseph practically growled my name like an animal, sending shivers down my spine. “I want you, Sunshine. I want you to suck my cock and swallow every drop of my cum. I want you to take me in every hole and let me fill you up nice and deep so you’ll always feel me inside you. I want you to lose control and scream my name loud enough for the world to hear that you’re mine. I want everyone to know who you chose, who you love more than anyone else. No matter where you are or what you do, I want to be the only one in your thoughts, the only one who can make you like this… the only one you need in every way.”

I hadn’t expected such an intense response, though I suppose I should have. Joseph always had a way with words that left me hot and flustered. I tried to regain my composure and come up with a suitable retort, but those dark eyes of his that burned with love and lust made it that much harder to think. “Joseph… I-I want you to need me that badly too.”

“I do,” Joseph said in a near groan as he nudged his cock against my mouth, which was dripping again with his need. “Fuck, I need you so, so badly, Sunshine. Please…”

Fuck. I wanted Joseph to beg, but I wasn’t expecting what it would do to me. The desperate note of sheer need in his voice sent shivers of heat through me that pooled between my legs and left me aching.

How could I deny such a sweet plea like that?

Joseph moaned my name as I went down on him, and I relished the way he shuddered and twitched in my mouth. He was so big and hot, almost too much for me to handle, but I had more than enough experience to take him in deep.

“That’s it,” Joseph said in a low, breathy voice. “Fuck, Sunshine. Your mouth feels so good. No one else could make me feel the way you do.”

He kept whispering my name between husky pants and sweet praise. His hands kept running along my head down to my neck and shoulders then back up again. The way his hips twitched told me just how hard he was fighting the urge to start thrusting. I squeezed those juicy thighs of his, holding him in place while silently reminding him who was in control right now.

“Oh God,” Joseph moaned. “You’re taking me so deep… Fuck… That’s it. Take all of my cock. It’s all for you… just you. Only you, Sunshine.”

Joseph always had a way with words, telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. I redoubled my efforts, wanting to take in every inch of him. The noises he made were just as intoxicating as his sweet praise and the way he said my name left me lightheaded. I was drunk off his love and need for me, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

“Shit, yes,” Joseph hissed. “God, you’re so beautiful. That’s it… just like that. Fuck!”

It was a struggle to increase the tempo while deepthroating him, but I was determined. I added my hands to the mix, toying with his balls before stroking the base of his cock where my mouth couldn’t reach. He let out a yelp, his hips jolting as I gave him a particularly firm squeeze, and I had to take a moment to catch my breath when I started to gag. I refused to let up on the attack while I gave my throat a break, squeezing him firmly as I moved my hands along his length in quick strokes.

Joseph started to buckle under the intense assault, his back sliding down along the door a little, though he refused to let his legs give out. His words of praise came out more broken now, sentences cut off by barely stifled moans that begged to become reckless screams.

I adored how beautiful Joseph looked in that moment, how weak and needy he was from my touch. He let go of the control he was so fond of having over me and was reduced to a pleading mess that I couldn’t get enough of. My groin ached for satisfaction, but I stubbornly refused to let myself get distracted. I put my mouth back to work with renewed vigor, making sure to swipe my tongue along the spots that I knew would make him whimper for me.

When all Joseph could say was my name as he started to tense, I knew he was close. I debated stopping at the last second, wanting to tease him a little more to make sure he knew who was in control this time and see how he might react, but I was nearing my limit as well. I needed him inside more than just my mouth. My body ached to be one with him. I needed him to fill me up like no one else could.

But before that, I needed to see him come absolutely undone for me.

One of his hands left my head so Joseph could bite down on it to stifle a cry as he gave me exactly what I wanted. The rush of hot sticky cum hit the back of my throat that I was quick to swallow. I focused on each pulse of his cock in my mouth, the way he arched his back and shuddered. With one hand he held onto me for dear life while the other tried to keep the entire studio from finding out what we were doing.

For a moment, I was tempted to rip that hand away from his mouth and let the world know the name of the person Joseph was screaming for so desperately.

I dropped the thought immediately. As much as I wanted to mark my territory, that was a step too far. We weren’t supposed to be doing stuff like this at the studio after all, and I didn’t want to risk Joseph losing his job.

Besides, if we were caught, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy scandalous moments like this where I got to reduce the famous Sunny Day Jack to a pleading, needy mess.

When I finally released Joseph, he all but crumpled to the floor. Despite the haze of bliss fogging his mind, he immediately reached out for me, crushing me to his shuddering body before fumbling to capture my lips with his. He whispered my name as we parted, breathless and husky, and sent a shiver down my spine.

“God…,” Joseph breathed. “I love you so much… so fucking much… No one makes me feel the way you do, Sunshine.”

“I love you too, Joseph,” I answered, but I didn’t get the chance to say more before his mouth captured mine again.

The kisses started off languid, but soon grew more intense as Joseph recovered his strength. Before I knew what was happening, I was pinned on the floor beneath him, deliciously trapped under his hot and heavy body. His hands were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire with every touch as he sought out every inch of me. My clothes were gone before I knew it, along with my domination over him.

I was beyond caring at that point. All that mattered was getting Joseph just as naked as me and tasting that silver tongue of his as he kissed me until I was breathless. All I wanted was to revel in just how much he wanted me, loved me, needed me. I wanted to savor his possessive growls, his frantic pawing of my body, and the way he marked me as his inside and out. The pleasure I took in knowing that I drove him to this state was almost as good as the way he made me feel as he claimed me as his.

Taking control for a change was a lot more fun than I expected. I needed to do it again sometime soon.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #My Writing #Joseph x Reader #x Reader #Reader Insert #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Reader

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