This is a very sweet message thank you so much! How thoughtful of you âșïž yes that previous anon did throw me off guard but I guess this is part of it... I want to try writing more, already have an idea let's see how I'll manage to pull it off đ«Ł
with all the celebrini crosby comparisons it kills me that their team rosters are on polar opposite sides of the nhl age demographic
one one hand you have the pens, a bunch of oldheads and kindyâtheir one little adopted puppy that theyâre constantly endeared by
and then on the other thereâs the sharks, which is just poor old tyler toffoli and his 14 million gremlin children who bully him on his own wifeâs podcast
"Stories"? I wrote 2 short blurbs, and you're making it sound like I stole at least 20! đČ Which story out of these 2 is the subject of your concern?
Before you will let me know though, I haven't "stolen" any story, you can copy it into a plagiarism tool if you'd like! âșïž As a little guidance to you, some universities consider over a 10% match as plagiarising someone's work, some allow even less than that. Lmk!
- in which things get rough but you always find a way back to each other
Pairing: Macklin Celebrini x reader
Word count: ~2k
đ
"But you have to see that she's just using you!" Frustration got better of Macklin, his voice raising with every word.
Opening your mouth to retort something back, you halted for a second, taken aback with his sudden outburst. You could tell the regret flashing in his eyes the moment he finished speaking, but in the heat of the moment, he stood his stance, not going back on what he had said.
And you were no different. So you raised your voice as well. "And I've told you that she meant well! You saw how she helped me last timeâ"
"For which you paid her!"
"â while I was in a dire need of a lift to the airport!"
"Every time she helps you and you guys fight she ends up listing out things she's helped you with like some shopping list!" Macklin said in a loud voice, his hands flying around. "As if you need to be reminded how many times you needed help in the past!"
"But I also help her!"
"But you never go out of your way to count out all the occasions you had done so!"
"She is like that, so what? I can't do much about how she argues!"
"Babe," Macklin tried, sighing, "I know she's your close friend but this isn't how close friends treat each other. Every time she does something for you it's like you've got to keep repaying her and I just find it so odd." Another sigh, almost like he wasn't sure whether to say whatever was coming up next. "It's just thatâ you deserve better."
Macklin's firy gaze simmered down to an earnest look of a boyfriend who cared a lot. As for why you couldn't see that in the moment was something no one, especially you, could understand.
You raised your hands, backing out of the kitchen in his apartment, the heat of the argument still commanding your actions. "She's been like that for years, Mack. Sometimes we just have to accept people the way the are and love them as they are."
"Of course!" he made a step towards you. "I'm not saying to stop being friendsâŠ" Macklin slowly ceased talking when he noticed you made a step back. Hurt flashing in your eyes, you swallowed and his face fell.
"I also accept that you're not available to me when I need you, Macklin. I fully accept that most times you belong to your club and your star careerâŠ"
Biting your lip, you looked down at the tip of your Converse. The muddy stain from Macklin's shoe was still there; he was fooling around with his friends, not noticing you standinf behind him to surprise him for an away game, and he almost ended up crushing your toes when he jumped back to avoid a push from his friend. It was such an endearing memory - especially how much his eyes shone when he realized it was you to whom he was firing hundreds of genuine apologies in a minute. The intimate hug he gave you right after that, the domestic kiss on the side of your head, murmuring how you were the best surprise ever, it still made your tummy tickle with pleasant butterflies.
Snapping back to the tensed up present moment, it was you who sighed this time. "Maybe you're right," you mumbled, skepticism dripping from your tone. Looking back up at your boyfriend, you said: "Maybe I do deserve better."
You turned around and walked out on him.
đ
Just as Macklin, you knew immediately you did a big mistake. Fighting over your best friend was the first time, though he did bring up her strange behaviour on a couple of occasions and you always knew how well-meant his questioning about her was.
So why did this trigger your first fight with Macklin? It's been two years since your first date, and up until now, you could talk out literally everything. No raised voices, no unnecessary walking outs on each other, no hard feelings.
And now, here you were, in your room, spacing out on biology of some old-age fungi that apparently ruled the world once upon time.
As much as this fact would fascinate you any other day, you could barely form a coherent thought about anything else that wasn't about Macklin.
What you hated the most was that he was correct.
Your best friend of many years maybe wasn't a best friend after all. Showing way too many narcissistic traits, you learned to yield to her because you were the exact opposite of a narcissist. Instead of counting how many times you were there for her, it came to you like a second nature to provide a helping hand. Whenever you would go out on a trip, you'd be the one booking the Airbnbs and using your phone as your GPS.
Without you, she would hardly get to see half of the things she saw, all thanks to your effort to research and get the insider tips for the best places. Yet, even when she would be served all of that on a golden plate, she'd still have remarks how certain things could have been done better, how you should've done this or that better. She would've done it better.
Indeed, she was a narcissist.
Macklin never called her that out of respect to you, but you knew he knew. Flashing in front of your eyes was the first time you introduced them. Ever the gentleman, Macklin was sweet and polite, the exact way your mum platonically fell in love with him, too.
Your best friend, however, wasn't much impressed. In fact, she had a small rant about how useless professional athletes were to the society and how she insisted the world needed educated politicians instead.
And that one time, when Mack was on an away game and you needed to go to the airport to see your family, you offered her money for the gas and she took it without an ounce of thought. Of course, you offered, but it did make you feel weird how she plucked the 50 dollar bill out of your hand, acting like she was bothered by having to help you.
You laughed because you knew she was being her unique self, but now replaying it all â God, you were the one who was awful, for you were so ignorant to all these red flags.
And you knew deep down how problematic her behaviour could get: judging everyone by their looks while walking around as if she was above all.
She was above you, too, because you simply let her.
And Mack, your precious Mack, was just trying to show you the parts where your own value was buried in favour of hers.
This wasn't you.
Macklin didn't get to know and like a person like that; in his eyes, your personality was sweet, loving and yet persisting. Your intellect impressed him, and he also saw how you put it to good use.
However, not with her.
And now, your phone quiet, you felt the heaviness of your mistake.
Closing the biology book with a thud, you took it in your hand and sent a correctly strong blow to your forehead. "Dummy youâŠ"
Just then your phone vibrated. The speed with which you grabbed your phone was to be studied becauseâ
i'm really sorry about today
i meant well, i didn't mean to overstep or offend you
whenever you're ready i'll be here to talk, take your time
miss you
You bit your lip to stop it from quivering. Re-reading the message over and over again, his caring words left your heart aching.
đ
The next day at 6am you were in front of Macklin's apartment. You had keys, but you didn't dare let yourself in, feeling like that privilege wasn't currently available to you.
And you hated that.
You knew he would be leaving for his practice in a couple of minutes, as he liked being early.
You mouth went dry with sudden nerves, but there was little time to give them more attention as the door opened and Mack froze in the doorway.
"Hey, baby," he greeted you kindly, his surprise diminishing right away. It was so natural that all you could make yourself do is rush into his arms that, somehow, were already prepared to catch you.
"I'm so sorry," you mumbled into his sweater. "I was dumb and I didn't want to see the truthâŠ"
"Shh, it's alright, sweetheart, I know. I understand."
You squeezed him even tighter and he adjusted his grip on you, too, his hand cradling your hand.
This automatic push and pull between you was one of the main reasons why you clicked from the moment you met. The synergy was off the charts, and you complemented each other so finely, that other couples could only wish for such a luck to meet them.
"I know she is your best friend of many years," said Mack into your hair. "And that's great! I mean, we all should have long time friends, right?" Kiss on the top of your head. "I just wish that you would set some boundaries with her, because I don't like how she treats you sometimes, baby."
"I know." You sniffed and gently pulled back so you could see his face. His hand went to your cheek, gently caressing it. "You were right about everything. I just didn't want to admit it and she's my only long time friend⊠And sometimes I'm scared I won't have any other close friends."
The vulnerable admission was so raw, Macklin took your face in both his hands and made sure you looked into his eyes as he mumbled privately: "I will always be here for you. Remember that we are best friends, too. You are my closest friend I have and I don't want to lose you. So I understand your worry. But how long you've known someone doesn't define the quality of the friendship, okay? Sometimes we know people for so long, and realize too late that they never treated us well. And that's okay. As long as you realize your value, baby."
Tears filled your eyes. Macklin wore his heart on his sleeve for you. He was so genuine and kind to you, that sometimes you thought you didn't deserve it. And now all you could do was be grateful for having him in your life.
"I love you," you whispered as he wiped a tear with his thumb. "I love you so much. I never want to fight with you again. Especially not about something like this."
"I love you too," he whispered back, not being able to hold back an endearing smile. "And yes, please never turn your back on me again."
At that your face scrunched up and you started properly weeping, guilt taking over in full force.
Macklin giggled and quickly brought you back to his arms, whispering sweet things into your ear; how much he loved you, how much he cared for you, and how much you wouldn't hear the end of this because you weeped so cutely.
- in which he helps team Canada win but successfully sends your team home @ the World Championships
Pairing: Sidney Crosby x foreigner reader
A/N: This was me trying my hand at writing a hockey blurb đ«Ł hope whoever reads this will like it đ»word count: ~3k
đ
"Please," you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. "Just try to go easy on them?" Your eyes met with Sid's soft gaze as he took in your worried facial features. It stopped for a heartbeat longer on the small flag of your country just on the apple of your left cheek.
He had a smile coming up but was trying hard not to let the urge to grin win. It was, however, a solid fact that right in that instance, you looked so adorable he could squeeze your cheeks and give you a loud kiss. The latter he could totally do, he still had a couple of minutes to try to calm you down about the fact that his team wouldn't annihilate your team. At least try not to.
"Just," you raised your hands, nerves taking over. "Try not to score too many goals, okay? We don't need another debacle from Canada."
This time Sidney laughed; soft and gentle. The way you were reasoning with him was incredibly sweet. He raised his hand and carefully brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. It tickled and you squirmed, giggling.
"There it is," he said quietly, just for your ears. "That gorgeous smile."
Your cheeks reddened. Even in the awful lighting of the stinky hallway just outside of his changing room it was obvious how much he had an impact on you. After three years of being together. Three years had a different meaning, when both of you had been sure of the other from the moment you got to know each other.
"I'll try my best to take it easy, okay?" Sidney said at last, studying your eyes. "I've kind of told the guys, too."
"Oh no," your eyes bulged in terror. "What did they say?"
He shrugged, obviously trying to downplay whatever disregarding words his team-mates told him. "That they'll comply?"
This time a proper laugh tore out of you and you had to slam your hand on your mouth to not bring too much attention to the two of you. "Did you mean when they said: fuck off captain, we will destroy them?"
Sidney laughed along with you. "Maybe?"
You shook your head, still laughing and reached up to smooth out his uniform, the big C on his chest almost as big as your hand. "I wasn't being serious. I can't possibly tell you to go easy on my beloved country." Dragging your palms over to his shoulders, you looked up into his expecting orbs. "They will give you a hard time and you'll do the same. And I know the best one will win."
Just in that moment the gong annoucing the end of the break sounded through the stadium, making your stomach drop. It was time to let Sidney do what he was born to do.
"No matter how today ends," he murmured intimately, taking a step closer, "I love you and I take great pleasure in knowing that I get to take care of a precious citizen of your country. I will always have respect for your people," said Sidney. He made a small step towards you and pressed his lips to your forehead; long and longing. "I'll be watching the enemy stands just to get a glimpse of you, sweetheart."
By that point you were a puddle, having to be scooped back together by a zamboni. Everyday spent with this man had you thanking all the gods and stars for blessing you with such a great man such as Sidney Crosby.
If that ring of promise on your fourth finger meant anything at all. In summer, it would gain a whole new meaning. But until then, you ought to enjoy the little secret.
"Be careful out there, yeah?" you whispered hurriedly, knowing he would have to get going right about then.
"Always." He moved his lips to yours, sealing them for a precious heartbeat. "Meet you after the game. Enjoy."
As you watched his wide, retreating back, you pressed your lips together, savouring the lingering touch of his lips. He looked so good and you caught a glimpse of his entire face locking in, sharp focus clouding up the gentle features he saved for you. In that moment you knew he would be doing some magic on the ice and your team would most probably become the laughing stock of the internet for the next couple of days.
It wasn't something you weren't prepared for.
Coming from a smaller country, the passion with which you loved hockey was almost unmatched among other teams. You could already hear the loud chants of the fans. The best part about it was, that almost all of them knew their butts would be kicked, but enjoying the game and supporting their hard-working team was still the number one priority.
Slowly moving towards the expectators zone and mingling with people speaking your language, sharing the same culture you had a single thought: your guys must beat Canada. You took a final glance at the Canadian part of the stadium before facing the open ice rink.
đ
Sidney was a proud Canadian. He loved his country and was ready to represent it no matter how important or how small the competition in question was. Bearing the red maple leaf on his chest made him stand just a tad taller, always. And he knew his team-mates were no different.
What he didn't quite like admitting was the ground shaking cheers the opponent's team received upon entering the ice. While Canadians did cheer for Sidney's team, compared to the loud drumming, clapping and singing it really was no match.
The welcome was loud and he knew they were in for a treat when the first face-off of the game was about to start. The captain of the other team was a tall guy, at least five years younger with a piercing gaze. Despite facing someone like Sidney Crosby, he didn't seem star-struck. Getting to face-off with such a legend would put most hockey players into lil' shambles, allowing them the mistake of focusing a bit more on the edge of Sid's hockey stick rather than theirs and boom, Sidney won the face-off with a laughable ease.
But not today.
And he understood it pretty quickly.
He loved the challenge.
Canada struggled to win the puck for the first five minutes which made the oppononet's spectator zone even louder and merrier. Who didn't enjoy watching Canada work for a little input, right? It was astonishing how the fans wouldn't get tired of cheering, and kept going.
It was no NHL game either, that was for sure. Sidney was more accustomed to a locked in audience. Fans at the NHL preferred to focus on the fast game, they supported fights and were able to make friends even with the other team's fans.
Not here, though, and certainly not today.
The rink was considerably wider, making the game a little less physical and quick, and more precise, welcoming lots of passes from left and right. Sidney earned the puck from the team's rookie, Macklin, and was ready to shoot when more space opened up on his left. Nathan appeared in his line of vision and he sent his assist to Nate who then shot it straight into the net.
The quieter side of the stadium errupted into cheers and claps, and Sid felt his body easing up. Quickly checking the time, he realized the first period was almost done. For twenty minutes, it was way too hard to score. You were right; your team would give them a hard time, alright.
Shooting the slightest glance towards where you were sitting, he made his way towards the bench. Despite knowing how much your heart dropped most probably, he couldn't help but feel relieved that he got Canada into the lead.
Your eyes met. In spite of all that chaos that was surrounding you, the disappointed faces and even some booing, you stood there motionless, a little self-restraining, and you looked straight into Sindey's searching gaze.
It all was just a few heartbeats long, very much an unnoticable time to others, but volumes were spoken in that one gaze. You sent your team into the leading position. You have an assist point. I'm so proud of you.
But it was all against us.
How Sidney wished you were in the red and white blur of enthusiasm. How much he wished it was his jersey covering your top, his name caressing your back. His flag on the apple of your cheek. Oh, how much was the world around them unaware.
Among all the other girlfriends, wives and family members, you were the one with a faraway gaze, the surrounding cheerful interactions going straight through you. The flag long removed from your face, you looked mundane, almost like you just appeared after having done the groceries.
He knew you were replaying that last goal that sent Canada into winning 2-1. The last ten seconds of the game were Sidney's heroic one, because he was the author of the final goal. A sharp, unpredictable flick of his wrist and another beautiful backhand wrote itself into the top goals of the tournament.
The best possible scenario, yet the worst one.
His ears were still ringing from how loud the stadium was. In this championship, it was the loudest game he had played. The passion, the fever and enthusiasm for hockey was unique and he would lie if he'd said he didn't feel more pressure during the match.
And now, he had to face you. It was like walking in a tunnel. You were the light at the end of it, even though he had no reason to be in one in the first place.
Yet, there he was, making slow, decisive steps towards a warm welcome, hopefully. He was rehearsing some opening sentences for when he first got to talk to you after the game. Unfortunately, the high of the atmosphere and the joy of winning made his brain unable to form much that was about an apology.
Was he even sorry?
You snapped out of your little reverie the moment you spotted a bulky figure approaching you. That style of walking, the muscular thighs, legs shaped into a painful O⊠It couldn't be anyone else, but your Sidney.
Standing up quickly you walked over to him, offering a gentle smile.
Oh, he was definitely feeling it nowâ
"Sorry," he blurted out as soon as you got closer to him; only for your ears to hear, because it would be a treason to have other witnesses.
You shook your head quickly. "No, no." Standing on your tiptoes, you kissed his cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for. What a fantastic game. Congratulations on the beautiful goal, Sidney."
"Baby," he sighed regretfully, his hands immediately finding safe harbor on your hips. Even when you were probably feeling sour, you'd still have it in you to be kind to him. "It really was a fantastic game. Your guys almost wiped the rink with us⊠1-1 'till the lucky goal. It was lots of fun for us to have such a tough competitor, just so you know."
You smiled, nodding. Your hand caressed his cheek, feeling the roughness of the beard. "You better win the gold now. Otherwise you beat us for nothing."
Sidney laughed, running his hands up and down your sides. Your t-shirt got caught in the motion, revealing a bit of skin, which his fingers sought out immediately. "That's the only goal we have, trust me."
Leaning in, you kissed him quickly, neither of you wanting to do much PDA, even though you already looked pretty intimate to an outsider. That's what Sidney's gaze did when he was in love, anyway.
"But," you started, determination taking over. "You better make it up to me. The emotional damage has been done, whether you got the winning goal or not. You owe me."
"Anything," he all but sighed, almost sounding as a plea, his eyes cheekily sparkling in the strong light. "I am at your disposal."
What could you do but laugh? You smacked his chest, shaking your head at his silliness, but secretly you were completely done, already waiting for whatever would come.
Because when he said such words, you knew the puck was in your zone.
ââ author's note & warnings: something super feral for captain canada and his grays. smut (you/your), language, public teasing, pda, fingering, unprotected sex, prone bone. read more for #87.
You were starting to space out. It was half past 11 at least (maybe later) but the champagne flutes kept clinking, the laughter kept rising, and one of the senior associates kept droning on about market projections. Across the room, someone tripped over their feet, garnering laughter from their small group of summer analysts. You were starting to space out, meaning it was time to go home.
The silk of your dress clung to your skin, the air around you alive with the hum of too many voices, mid-tempo 90s-era popular music, and the scent of the savory hors d'oeuvres you downed instead of a true dinner. You shifted your weight back onto your right foot, trying to ignore the way your arches screamed, when a warm hand settled at the small of your back.
âFeeling pretty ready to head out, huh?â Sidneyâs voice was low, pitched softly just for you, his thumb brushing your lower back. You released a long breath allowing the tension in your shoulders to soften beneath his touch. You nodded with barely a tilt of your chin, taking a shallow sip of the lukewarm champagne in your flute.
The music faded then swelled into some throwback R&B song, its saxophone curling through the chatter. Sidney shifted closer, letting his fingers grasp your waist, pulling you deeper into his side. âWas hoping you were gonna say that,â he murmured against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. âGot an idea when I was watching you get dressed earlier.â
You blinked, then slowly turned your head to meet his gaze. A small laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. âYou always get ideas watching me get dressed,â you said quietly, âbut Iâm listening.â
Sidneyâs smile deepened. âGo to the bathroom,â he whispered. âTake those panties off, come back, and give âem to me.â
You rolled your eyes but couldnât fight the slow curl of heat low in your belly. Without another word, you handed him your champagne flute, your fingers brushing his just long enough to give you an excuse to meet his eye with a heated gaze.
The bathroom was mercifully empty, its dim lighting a relief after the glare of the party. You locked the door behind you, the click sealing you away. You pressed one hand against the door, balancing on one stiletto heel, before sliding your hand down to sneak under the long hem of your silk dress. Your seamless underwear slipped down your thighs, and you folded it neatly, tucking it into your clutch.
When you returned, Sidney was exactly where you left him against the wall, chatting casually with a few of the associates you shared a desk with, one hand tucked into his pocket. You crossed the room slowly, letting the weight of his gaze settle on you. âMission accomplished?â he asked when you were close enough to hear, his lips quirking. You reached into your clutch as he turned to shield your movements from your coworkers, then you slid the folded fabric into his palm. His fingers closed around your underwear instantly, tucking it into the pocket of his pants like contraband.
The two of you made your rounds with practiced excuses, Sidneyâs charm smoothing over your abrupt departure while you offered tight-lipped smiles and claims of an early meeting with an important account. The night air hit you like a relief, cool against your warm skin as Sidney guided you toward the car with the hand still glued to your lower back.
The car door clicked shut behind you, sealing away the world outside. Before you could even fasten your seatbelt, Sidneyâs hand slid up your thigh, the silk of your dress pooling under his fingers as he leaned in over the center console, his mouth finding yours in the dark. You sank into him, your hands knotting in the front of his shirt. By the time Sidney pulled back, your dress was bunched at your hips, his palm pressed flat against the bare skin of your inner thigh.
âMissed this,â he said huskily.
You exhaled a laugh against his jaw, your fingers loosening their grip on his shirt. âYouâve been with me all night,â you teased through a shaky breath when his hand squeezed your upper thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make your heart flutter.
âNot like this,â Sidney argued back. His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, then trailed down your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses beneath your ear until you arched against the seat, the thin strap of your dress slipping down your shoulder. The engine roared to life beneath you as he started the car without you noticing, and then his hand was gone from your thigh, leaving your skin tingling where his touch had been.
The drive back to your apartment built up the tension you anticipated would develop the minute he suggested the exchange. Every time the car slowed at a light, his touch migrated higher, ghosting up the inside of your thigh until you sighed and tilted your hips toward him just to feel the tease of his fingertips.
By the time the elevator doors slid shut behind you in your buildingâs lobby, you were wound tight enough that the brush of his thumb against your lower lip was enough to make you shiver. Sidney crowded you against the mirrored wall without breaking the kiss, one hand braced against the wall behind you while the other gripped your hip, holding you steady as the elevator climbed. His teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging just hard enough to draw a soft noise from your throat before he pulled back.
âThought about having you all night,â he admitted. âKept picturing you bent over that desk.â
âMy desk is glass,â you laughed, letting your hands drift down his chest. The elevator chimed softly, announcing your arrival. âAnd that computer is expensive.â
âExpensiveâŠâ Sidney hummed, his large hands finding your hips as you trailed the 15 or so steps down the hallway to your door. âYouâve got a ton of expensive shit. Thatâs never stopped me before.â
âLuckily I have a hot senior citizen to replace my expensive shit when he ruins it.â
Once inside your apartment, Sidney didnât give you time to flick on the lights. The door clicked shut behind you, and then he was pressing you against it, his hands sliding up your thighs beneath the silk of your dress, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive grip. You gasped into his mouth as he lifted you effortlessly, your back hitting the door with a muffled thud. The cool wood against your exposed, bare skin prickled your skin with goosebumps until his mouth found your neck again, teeth scraping lightly over your pulse point, erasing any lingering chill.
âYouâre gonna ruin this dress,â you breathed, but the protest was half-hearted at best, lost in the way his hips rolled against yours, the hard line of his cock pressing through his slacks.
Sidney chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up to grip the back of your thighs, holding you in place as he ground against you. âThatâs the idea, sweetheart,â he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, deep and filthy, swallowing the whimper you couldnât hold back. âYouâve got my card. Just get another one.â
Accordingly, the dress was the first casualty.
Sidneyâs fingers twisted in the delicate fabric, pulling it up higher over your hips until the silk bunched at your waist, his palm skimming the bare curve of your ass. You arched into him, the friction of his belt buckle against your inner thigh drawing a full body shudder from you. He nipped at your bottom lip, swallowing the moan that bubbled out of you greedily as he carried you toward the bedroom without breaking your kiss.
Your back hit the mattress, the familiar weight of him settling between your thighs before you could catch your breath. Sidneyâs hands were everywhere: yanking off your dress, skimming down your ribs, palming your breasts, and eventually pulling back to take your naked form in. His eyes raked over you, his throat working as he swallowed hard, muttering, âFuck,â and dragging his palm down his face and over his trimmed beard.
You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him closer, and he groaned against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. âHoly fuck,â he repeated, his voice rough. âGonna ruin you.â
His head dipped, both hands grasping at your chest, and closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking hard enough that you arched off the mattress, a choked noise catching in your throat. The sharp sting dissolved into a deep, searing throb, and just when you adjusted to the sensation, he switched to the other side, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your fingers scrambled at his shoulders, blunt nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, but Sidney didnât let up, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured something filthy between kisses.
The buckle of his belt clinked as he shifted, the metal pressing against your pussy, taking on a brighter shine from the slick covering the inside of your thighs. Sidneyâs free hand slid down your stomach and over the dip of your navel before slipping lower, parting you slowly. âYouâre already so fucking wet,â he murmured, the words vibrating against your collarbone.
Your breath hitched as his fingers breached your entrance then curled inside you, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with each slow, torturous thrust. You bit down on your lip, suppressing a moan as he worked you with perfect timing.
âOh shit,â you gasped, hips jerking against his hand, your thighs tensing around his wrist.
Sidney watched your face intently, his breathing coming heavier as he added another finger, stretching you just enough to make you whimper. âThatâs it,â he coaxed, lips ghosting over yours. âLet me hear you. Donât hide from me.â
Your head tipped back, a moan tearing loose as you clenched around his fingers, your body trembling under the relentless pressure of his palm. Sidney groaned low in his throat, dragging his mouth down your neck, sucking harshly into your skin while his fingers kept working you through it, drawing out every last pulse until you whimpered, oversensitive and pliant beneath him.
The moment you came down from the high, Sidney withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to your mouth to taste. His hazel eyes remained dark as he watched you sigh around his fingers. The salt on your skin mingled with the tang of your arousal, and he hummed in approval before loosely applying pressure to either side of your throat.
You breathed heavily, eyes fixated on him with the prettiest glaze consuming your stare. Sidney dragged his damp fingers down your throat, smearing the taste of you onto your skin before gripping your chin. âYouâre so fucking perfect,â he muttered, voice thick. âGod, I fucking love you.â
âLove you too,â you breathed lightly, your voice was raw, but the words still carried that quiet sincerity of tender intimacy. Sidney kissed you slowly, savoring the way your lips yielded beneath his, the way your fingers tangled in his hair like you couldnât bear to let him pull away.
His hands worked quickly, shedding his shirt with impatient tugs at the buttons. The belt went next, the leather sliding free, followed by the sharp clatter of the buckle against hardwood. Sidney kicked off his slacks, stepping out of them without breaking the kiss, his body pressing yours deeper into the mattress. The heat of his skin against yours was intoxicating, the contrast of his roughened palms sliding down your smooth thighs enough to make you gasp.
He pulled away from you, his heart clenching at the soft whine that escaped your lips in surprise, and settled upright on his knees between your thighs. For a moment, Sidney just stared, his fingertips lightly dragging up and down over your bare thighs.
You giggled to yourself softly, your hands sliding up over his strong, veined forearms, fingers tracing the faint scars that decorated his skin memories of victories and losses on the ice written into his flesh. âMaking me shy,â you murmured, though your thighs parting wider beneath his gaze betrayed you.
Sidney lifted your thigh, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. âDonât be,â he murmured against your skin, lips trailing higher.
âTrying...â you bit back a whimper, your hips lifting instinctively, chasing the warmth of his mouth. but Sidney held you down with a firm grip, his chuckle vibrating against your flesh.
âNeed my cock that bad?â
âShit. So⊠so bad,â you whispered. âSidneyââ His name broke on your lips as he finally lowered your thigh.
Before you could speak again, he was dragging you up the bed, flipping you onto your stomach, and pressing one strong hand between your shoulder blades. The mattress dipped beneath his knees as he straddled your thighs, his calloused palms sliding up the backs of your legs, spreading you wider. You buried your face in the pillows, muffling a moan as his thumbs traced the crease where your thigh met your ass, drawing teasing circles just shy of where you needed him most.
Finally, he gripped the base of his cock, the thick length of him dragging through you before he pushed forward in one smooth stroke. The stretch burned just enough to make you gasp into the sheets, your fingers twisting in the sheets as he filled you gradually. Sidney groaned, his hands sliding up your back to grip your shoulders, holding you steady as he rolled his hips.
âFuck,â he moaned. âYou feelâgodâyou feel so fucking good.â
You pushed back against each thrust until the headboard thudded against the wall with every snap of his hips. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged breaths.
Sidney leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back. âThatâs it,â he urged lowly in your ear. âJust like that. Take it, baby.â
He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and your fingers clawed at the sheets, a broken moan tearing from your lips. Sidney grinned evilly to himself, his free hand sliding down to grip your hip, guiding your movements to match his rhythm.
âYeah, there you go,â he murmured, his voice filled with praise. âFuck, youâre so good for me.â
âFuckâŠâ you rasped, dragging out the beginning letter before dropping off with a whine. âJesus fuck, Sid. Youâreââ your words dissolved into a breathless gasp as Sidneyâs hips snapped forward, driving deeper than before, the angle just shy of painful in the best way.
You could feel him everywhere in the heat of his chest pressed against your back, the rough scrape of his stubble against your shoulder, and his breath hitching every time you clenched around him. âDonât stop,â you begged, voice cracking halfway through. âPlease donât stop.â
Sidney groaned into your skin. âThink I was planning on it?â he gritted out, the words rough with the effort. You gasped as his fingers slid between your legs, to play with your clit.
âI donât fucking⊠Sid, please just focusââ your plea dissolved into a shuddering moan as Sidneyâs fingers worked your clit. His hips snapped forward again, driving deeper, the force of it sending you sliding up the sheets. Your arm shot out, keeping your head from slamming into the headboard from the force. âJust fuck me. Fuck me harder.â
âIâm fucking focused⊠so fucking focused,â Sidney growled against your ear. His hand crept around your throat again as he buried himself deeper. Your vision blurred, your nails clawing at the sheets until the fabric bunched beneath your fingers.
âThatâs it,â he rasped. âGonna cum with me? Paint my cock all pretty?â
You couldnât answer, couldnât do anything but gasp as Sidneyâs fingers tightened just enough around your throat to make your pulse flutter beneath his grip. The pressure was perfect, toeing the line between pleasure and breathlessness, and when he dragged his thumb over the sensitive hollow beneath your jaw, your hips jerked back against him involuntarily.
âYeah,â Sidney murmured, his voice rough with approval. âJust like that. Fuck, you take me so good.â
Between his hand on your clit, the other on your throat, and the precise drag of his cock inside you, you were losing yourself in sensation, your vision tunneling until all you could feel was Sidneyâs body pinning you to the bed, the slap of skin against skin drowning out any thought in your head. Every nerve was alight, every breath shaky and uneven, and when Sidneyâs teeth scraped the tendon of your neck, you arched into him with a choked cry, your thighs trembling as pleasure crashed over you in waves.
Sidney groaned against your skin as he felt you clench rapidly around him. âYeah, thatâs my girl⊠donât think about it. Just fucking let it happen.â His hips stuttered, losing rhythm for half a second before he snapped forward again, burying himself to the hilt with a rough grunt.
Your body went taut beneath him, every muscle locking as pleasure ripped through you with a violence that left your audibly gasping. He didnât let up, dragging out your orgasm until you were whimpering, oversensitive, and shaking.
He lifted his chest, inhaling sharply as he reached up to grasp the headboard. His hips pounded harsh against your ass, driving deeper with each thrust as his own release loomed. You writhed beneath him, your fingers loosening your grip on the sheets as you melted into the mattress.
âFuckâfuck, hon,â he stuttered out, his voice cracking around the last syllable, his hips stuttering erratically. His breath hitched, tumbled into a rough groan from his throat, then he buried himself deep one last time, his release hitting him with a force that left him cursing.
Okay, what a hot, sexy well written short story was this!
The way he said she has his card, to buy a new dress!!đ„Č I had to stare off into distance after reading that... But the balance between sexy and tenderly intimate had me in a choke-hold. I could feel their relationship is healthy and that they know each other well!
Great tension build up, great description and great character building! After this I want more of this couple for sure.
Also, was I the only one that felt like the ending was cut off? đ
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