makwritesfics

“i followed the recipe,” he insists.

macklin is standing next to him with a whisk in his hand, looking just as confused. “no, you didn’t.”

“yes, i did.”

“you added like, double the milk.”

will gestures offendedly at the bowl. “you said it looked too thick!”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

this whole thing had started because of the “elevated cupcake experience” will had dragged them into. something about learning to bake fancy cupcakes for a team thing.

now there's...whatever this is.

mack dips the whisk into the batter and lifts it.

it pours out like water.

you lose it, doubling over with laughter.

“that is not cupcake batter,” you laugh.

macklin points at you accusingly. “you were supposed to help!”

“i tried!” you defend. “you kicked me out of the kitchen.”

“because you said we’d mess it up! we didn't need that negativity,” mack says.

you gesture at the bowl. “…and how'd that work out?”

will sighs and grabs the box of cupcake liners anyway. “whatever. we’re baking them.”

mack shakes his head. “i don’t trust that batter.”

twenty minutes later, the timer goes off and mack takes the tray out of the oven. the cupcakes have sunk, each one forming a small crater in the middle. you immediately start laughing.

“…that’s definitely not right.”

mack pokes one gently and it jiggles.

“why are they wet?” he frowns, yanking away in disgust. will crosses his arms defensively. “they’re not wet.”

macklin attempts to lift one out of the tray and it collapses in his hand, a dripping, soggy mess of batter.

will frowns, defeated.

“okay,” he admits. “they’re not perfect.”

mack holds up the destroyed cupcake. "these are soup cupcakes.” he deadpans.

will looks between the two of you, then back at the tragic tray of wet cupcakes.

you glance up slowly.

"trevor."

he pauses mid-sentence. “yeah?”

“…what are you even talking about?”

“the play from practice earlier,” he says, as if that clears everything up.

“you started this story about a dog you saw this morning.”

he blinks, like he can't recall what exactly he was on about, head tilting in confusion.

“oh, right. okay, yeah," he tries again, pacing a couple steps across the living room, “i’m leaving the coffee place this morning and this dog just bolts across the street out of nowhere.”

you raise an eyebrow.

“like, i'm talkin' full sprint,” he says, mimicking the motion with his hands. “and i’m standing there thinking i’m about to watch the worst thing ever happen because there’s cars everywhere.”

you nod, stifling a smile.

“but then this guy runs out of the café yelling the dog’s name,” trevor continues.

“and?”

"the dog's name was meatball."

there’s a beat of silence.

then,

“but it reminded me of practice because jamie tried this move and I swear the puck popped up just like that dog—"

"trevor!" you groan, burying your face in the nearest pillow.

“hey,” you mumble, voice still sleepy.

kk looks over at you and her expression softens instantly. “hey, baby. sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”

“you didn’t,” you say, even though she clearly did. you push the blanket off and stand, making your way over to her. you can practically feel the frustration radiating off her. “rough one?” you ask gently.

she shrugs, pulling the hoodie over her head. “yeah. just… one of those games, y'know?”

you nod a little. you’d watched it. you know exactly how hard she played. how she'd battled along the boards for puck possession, laid major hits, blocked shots like it were easy.

without another word, you wrap your arms around her. kk tenses for half a second, then melts into it, her arms sliding around your waist as she buries her face into your shoulder.

“you played so hard tonight,” you murmur.

she shakes her head slightly against you. “didn’t feel like it mattered.”

“it did,” you say quietly.

after a minute she pulls back just enough to look at you.

“you stayed up waiting?” she asks.

you shrug. “can't sleep without my favorite hockey player.”

kk snorts softly, the corner of her mouth lifting. the tension visibly eases from her shoulders.

“your favorite hockey player missed a wide-open net in the third tonight,” she says depreciatingly.

you reach up and gently push a strand of hair back from her face with a soft grin.

“still my favorite.”

her expression eases again, and she leans down to press a slow kiss to your forehead.

“c’mon,” she murmurs.

you let her pull you back toward the couch, where she immediately drags you into her side, one arm wrapped around you as you both sink into the cushions.

caroline harvey

coming soon...

laila edwards

coming soon...

luca fantilli

coming soon...

will horcoff

"hey," he says, breathless and laughing. "did you see it?"

"did i-?" you scoff, like he's insane for even asking. "mack. you scored your first olympic goal. for team canada. i literally cried."

he lets out one of those shy, light laughs that you love so much. you can picture the blotchy pink rising up his neck and cheeks, and your heart clenches a bit at the visual.

"it doesn't feel real. i just...tipped it in."

"oh, 'just tipped it in,'" you tease. "yeah, no big deal. just the olympics."

there's a quiet pause. you can imagine him sitting there at his locker, one of the last few lingering in the locker room, still half-dressed in his gear, and damp hair sticking to his forehead.

"when it went in," he murmurs, " i just thought of all the early mornings, all the extra reps, just...everything. then i saw the flag in the crowd and it hit me."

"i'm really proud of you," your voice is soft, all hints of teasing gone. "not just for scoring, but for how hard you've worked. you earned your place there, mack."

that lands somewhere deep in his chest.

"thanks," he murmurs, voice chocked full of emotion and adoration. "that means a lot from you."

you lean back against the couch, smiling to yourself.

"keep the puck," you remind gently.

"it's already in my bag."

"good," you giggle. "it's going straight on the wall when you get home. i'm ordering a display case tomorrow."

he laughs and you find yourself missing his sweet, gummy smile.

"go celebrate," you tell him. "soak it in."

"i will," he says. "i miss you. call you when it's quieter?"

"i'll be here, probably still rewatching the clip."

"love you," his honeyed voice whispers over the receiver, like it's meant only for your ears.

the two of you had barely touched him, but macklin was already squirming, brown hair sprawled across the pillows. cheeks pink and blotchy as he whines. will had stripped him long ago, leaving him bare against the tangle of sheets. he's a mess of deep purple love bruises; hickeys littered over his chest and thighs.

"you-you're both assholes," mack whines, legs kicking out against the sheets in something of a tantrum as will's fingers dance through the patch of dark curls at the base of his tummy. he's purposely paying no mind to mack's angry red cock, thick and twitching and practically begging to fill your mouth.

your hand brushes through his hair, comforting and condescending all at once. your fingers get caught, offering a hard tug to his scalp and the sound he lets out is so visceral, it makes your thighs clench. his back arches off the bed for the briefest moment before will locks him back down.

"what's wrong, buddy? you need something?" will patronizes, fixing mack with a lidded stare. mack whimpers, tucking his face into the side of your thigh so he can look up at you with a pathetic, pleading gaze.

will's sharp yank to his hair pulls him back.

"uh-uh. don't look at her. i asked you a question."

mack's cock twitches at his tone.

"please," his voice is nothing more than a choked whisper, eyes closed and bottom lip tucked so harshly between his sweet, gapped teeth that you're worried for a moment that he might draw blood. will grins victoriously, head tilting like he's trying to understand

"what was that?" he mocks, brushing the rough pad of his finger against the leaking tip of mack's cock.

"fuck! please! please, i'm sorry- i'm sorry!"

"you're sorry?" you join in on the teasing, tilting mack's chin up to properly see his face. he nods, green eyes blown out and wet from the frustrated tears pooling.

"you run your mouth all day, and now you're sorry?"

mack nods frantically, squirming and bucking his hips up to chase will's touch. he lets out a choked sob, overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at the same time.

taller!fraser who is almost eye-level with you when he's on his knees.

taller!fraser who is obsessed with the way your tummy bulges with each thrust into your warm cunt.

taller!fraser who likes to fuck you on the counter just so he doesn’t have to bend as far, hands planted on either side of you while he stands between your knees.

taller!fraser who adores missionary because his hyper-aware of the way his body drapes over yours.

taller!fraser who could cum at the sight of you on your knees for him. he's far too sweet to ever admit it, but seeing you look so small does incredible things for him.

taller!fraser who lifts you effortlessly when you wrap your legs around him, hands steady under your thighs. he doesn’t even break the kiss.

"i've got it."

you take the duffle bag from his good hand, anyway, putting it aside gently, like the sound of it hitting the floor might startle him. then you step back in front of his, a worried crease tugging between your knitted brows.

"does it hurt?" you ask, voice barely audible.

"a little."

once will's settled on the couch, you kneel next to him without a word. your hands move to the strap at his neck, adjusting it in small increments, smoothing the fabric where it rubs at his skin.

"too tight?" you ask softly, fingers rubbing soft circles into the skin at the nape of his neck.

"no."

you adjust it again for good measure and he makes no move to stop you. you shove a pillow under his forearm, noticing the way his shoulder drops a fraction and the tension eases from his jaw.

"I hated that hit," you admit quietly, busying yourself with fluffing the pillow to avoid the gentle, guilt-ridden look he's fixing you with.

"i know," he murmurs almost apologetically.

he studies you for a moment. the worried crease between your brows, the way your thumb soothes comforting circles into his skin, the anxious bounce of your knee.

"you're hovering," he says.

"i know."

will shifts carefully, ignoring your quiet protests and draws you closer with his good arm until you're folded into his side. you adjust automatically, angling yourself away from his injury like it's contagious.

you press your head to his chest and exhale a warm breath.

"my poor baby," you murmur, muffled against the cotton of his t-shirt. he lets out a breathy laugh, relaxing deeper into the cushions.

"you're makin' it worse."

"i'm making it better."

you press a kiss to the center of his chest just to prove your point, and his good hand comes up to affectionately smooth over your hair. you drag the blanket over him, tucking the corners into him.

"i've got you, bub."

his good arm tightens around you.

he shifts slightly, tilting his head to let his rosy cheek rest against the top of your head, and you can feel the rhythm of his steady breathing.

"you comfortable?" he murmurs, voice low and softened with sleep.

you nod against him. "mhm. don't move."

a quiet breath of laugh leaves his chest, and he places his phone face down on the coffee table.

his thumb moves in slow, absent circles on your upper arm. not meant to soothe but doing it anyway. fraser exhales, long and slow and unhurried, sinking deeper into the couch. his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose.

he leans in, pressing a warm kiss to your hairline.

"fras?"

"hmm?" he's drowsy, exhausted from a long day of practice and meetings. he's soft and pliant and so undoubtedly yours. his eyes are half-lidded, and his arms subconsciously tighten around you.

"don't fall asleep on the couch," you murmur quietly, brushing your fingers through his dark curls.

the lamp's golden glow illuminates the strong curve of his shoulders, the soft muss of his hair, and the gentle warmth of his face. his hand slips beneath the fabric of your hoodie, settling heavy on your bare waist.

"'kay. love you," he's already drifting off as he mumbles the serene words and you can't bring yourself to jostle him.

you let him rest there, slipping his glasses off his peaceful face, and ignoring the painful crick in your neck and the way he's heavy on your chest.

it wasn't a thing.

it was just summer. just the lake house. born of the consequences of the heat and too many beers after a boat day.

it brewed between moments. luke was distracted by his old umich teammates visiting; the house was crowded enough to allow you to slip away unnoticed, loud enough to muffle any noise.

you drifted down the hall towards jack's room, heart pounding from the thrill. the door was cracked open.

he was there, leaned against the dresser. his linen shirt was unbuttoned enough to offer you a peak of his tanned chest, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. the way he looked at you made your chest tighten and your belly twirl, reminding you of the danger.

luke had been your best friend since your freshman year at michigan. you trusted him in a way that felt natural; the trust that came from late night study sessions, spring break road trips, and too many overpriced drinks at rick's.

it made this so much more complicated.

"finally," jack groans, pushing off the dresser. "thought you'd chicken out."

"you said two minutes," you shoot back with a scoff, feigning annoyance despite the grin growing on your face.

"it's been five."

jack doesn't waste a second. a hand slipping around your waist, tugging you close enough to find your lips, hungry and fast.

you gasp into the kiss, fingers tangling in the fabric of his white button up. his hand presses firm against the small of your back as he subtly grinds his hips against yours.

"gotta be quick," you murmur, head tilting back to offer him more surface area as he nips down your throat. "i told luke i'd-" you cut yourself off with a gasp as jack's hands squeeze the fat of your ass.

he pulls back with a cocky grin.

"told him you'd what?"

"fuck you, J," he lets out an oof as you shove him down to the mattress with a roll of your eyes. he lands back on his elbows, grinning smugly up at you.

"it'd be my pleasure."

his hands find the hem of your tank top, dragging it up and over your head. a choked noise escapes from the back of his throat as your bare tits bounce free, hands automatically coming up to pinch and squeeze at the mounds.

"walking around here without a bra? what happened to my sweet girl, huh?" jack mumbles, gloating in the noise he tears from your lips as he tugs your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

he tugs your shorts down, leaving you in only a pair of white cotton panties that are considerably wetter than they were before you walked into his room.

his hands drag you by your hips, settling you down in his lap, thighs spread on either side of his. he tugs his shorts down just enough to free his aching cock, letting it smack up against your bare inner thigh.

he tugs your panties to the side, sliding the head of his cock between your folds. his tip bumps your clit, drawing a moan from you that's a bit too loud for his comfort and he immediately swallows it with a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

he lifts you up just enough to position the tip of his cock at your entrance.

"c'mon, angel. ride it for me," he encourages, hands dragging up and down the smooth skin of your waist. you let out a little whine, sinking down on his cock and he groans at the feeling of your warm, wet heat enveloping him. the stretch of him is delicious, leaving a fluttery feeling in your tummy.

the pool water shimmered under the morning, san jose sunshine. the scent of sunscreen mingled with the familiar sweetness of blooming flowers and chlorine. you had spread your towel across your favorite lounge chair, soaking up the warm sun in your tiniest swimsuit after ignoring macklin's pleas to stay in bed. sunglasses perched on your nose; you leaned back and let the warmth envelop you like a cozy blanket.

then the sun abruptly disappeared, a shadow casting over your scantily clothed form. you peered up the nose of your glasses, catching macklin's pouty expression, arms crossed like you'd personally offended him.

"hi, sunshine," you coo, biting your laughter back at his sulky demeanor. he doesn't respond, settling down between your plush thighs on his tummy. his head rests on your chest, and he lets out warm puffs of air against your skin.

"baby, you're blocking my sun," you laugh, nails raking through his soft hair.

he lets out a barely audible whine, clinging to you. "you left me," he mutters petulantly. you giggle softly and he momentarily brightens, like the sound of your laugh could easily soothe all his worries away.

he lets out a soft hum, pressing a kiss to the curve of your boob before sliding lower. he moves down your torso with a drag of his lips as he drifts towards his favorite place. he pauses to press a sweet kiss to your naval, preening as you cup his pink cheek.

"where you going, honey?" you murmur, thumbing over the apple of his cheek. he sighs contentedly, not answering with words, but rather a gentle tug to the strings knotting your swimsuit bottoms together. he peeks up at you with a dreamy questioning glance.

"go ahead, babydoll," you murmur, petting his hair back out of his green eyes. his hands quickly untie the fabric, letting it fall away from your hips.

he wastes no time, slotting himself between your thighs. he takes a breath, savoring the scent of you, mixed with sunscreen and sweat. he quietly noses through your folds, resting there for a moment before allowing himself a taste.

his tongue slides through your folds, collecting your juices with a reverent moan. his tongue swirls your clit, relishing in the breathy noises he draws from your parted lips.

"just like that, mack. god, you're so good. i love you," you keen, fingers dancing through his hair. he flaunts through the praise, eagerly lapping up everything you have to offer.

he sucks your clit into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and snickering when you give his hair a rough tug. he revels in the attention, slurping messily between your thighs. he moans like he's the one receiving, like he'd live right here, nose buried in your cunt, if you'd let him.

mack swallows thickly from where he's perched between will's thighs. his eyes are nervously locked on will's leaking cock, hard and imposing and so close he could almost taste the precum running down the length of it.

will's chest heaves, eyes glued to the ceiling. his shaky hands are fisted in the sheets. his face is twinged with a pink hue as he waits for something — anything — to relieve the need brewing between his legs. he shivers involuntarily as your nails rake through the fine hair coating his thighs.

macklin tentatively leans forward, licking a warm stripe up the underside of his cock, humming softly at the taste. "there you go, honey. just like that," you murmur reassuringly, nestled just close enough behind mack to speak gently in his ear.

will chokes on a moan, face scrunched as he grips the sheets tighter. you gently pry his hands free of the white cotton. "you can touch him, baby," you remind, guiding his hands to mack's soft strands. will lets out a shaky breath, lacing his hands into the blonde's hair and just barely tugging his head closer.

mack kindly obliges, taking a steady breath before wrapping his lips around the tip of will's cock. he suckles once, eyes flittering up to gauge will's reaction.

will softly cries out, offering a quick jerk to mack's hair that he immediately attempts to soothe when mack whines pitifully.

your hand finds the back of mack's neck, a guiding hand as he takes more of will's cock down his throat. "shh, easy, honey. take your time."

will moans and gives a jerky thrust into his mouth, causing mack to choke. you admonish will with a quick pinch to his thigh, hand rubbing up and down macklin's back.

"sorry. f-fuck! sorry, mack," will whines, writhing against the mattress as mack's confidence grows. his head bobs without your guidance, eagerly suckling and swirling his tongue along will's aching cock. he's a mess of spit and tears, barely giving himself a moment to breath before returning to the task at hand.

will lets out a deplorable sob, hand searching desperately for yours. "you need me to hold your hand, angel?" you coo almost mockingly, intertwining your fingers with his as he tries to remain still.

"mack, you're gonna- shit! i'm gonna cum, you gotta-" will interrupts himself with a high-pitched whimper, one hand squeezing yours as the other attempts to pull mack off. mack lets out an indignant hum, swatting his hand away as he continues to suck enthusiastically.

the lights are off except for the floor lamp by the window, casting everything in a hazy, honey-gold glow. clothes are scattered across the hardwood floor of his bedroom, discarded with nervous giggles and awkward hands. will's bare form hovers over yours, cross chain dangling between the two of you. it sways a little every time he lets out a quiet giggle.

he leans his forehead against yours with no hesitation, eyes flickering shut with a quiet noise escaping his throat. it's something between a groan and a whimper and it makes your tummy twist, desperate to hear it again.

your cunt flutters around him and will chokes out a full whine, burying his face in the crook of your neck. your hands find his back, eager to trace down the hard plane. his chest heaves, then he lets out an airy laugh.

"you're so warm," he gasps through the words, almost as if he can't believe this is real. like he'd do anything to stay buried here forever. his fingers tighten around your waist when you giggle.

"you can move, will," the muscles along his back tense at your whispered words and he takes a composing breath before drawing his hips back, cock dragging through your warm, gummy walls. his breath catches on another disbelieving laugh.

"holy fuck," he mutters, hips snapping forward. his tip catches a perfect spot, causing your nails to dig into the soft skin of his back. he lets out a little yelp of surprise and you both pause for a second.

"sorry," you poorly bite back a grin, smoothing your hands across the offended surface. will's face is a soft shade of pink, embarrassed but ultimately lost in the snug, wet heat you've so beautifully offered up to him.

"no, you're not."

you stare at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. he tries to kiss you through a mess of laughter, settling for obnoxiously smooching across your entire face. "will!" you laugh, pushing his face away.

he finally pulls back, a dopey smile gracing his perfect lips. "sorry," he fibs. "you're so pretty."

your legs hook around his waist and will takes the hint, readjusting his grip on your waist. his hips snap against yours and his cock nudges that spot against, drawing a moan from you. he takes his chance, tongue slipping past your parted lips, warring with your own.

he groans into your mouth, hips losing their rhythm as he draws closer. his hand fumbles between your bodies, desperately swirling your clit. "fuck, 'm not gonna last long," he pants, a gorgeous whine ripping from his throat with another brutal thrust of his hips. your hands find his soft, golden curls and give them a sharp tug.

he chokes on a gasp, furiously circling your soaked clit. your tummy tightens, the familiar feeling sneaking up on you. "please cum with me. fuck- 'm sorry, baby. i'll make it up to you later, i promise," will pleads, thrusts getting sloppy. you can feel his cock twitch as he nears his release.

"will!" your cunt clamps down on him, milking him for all he's worth as you soak his cock. "ha- oh god. shit!" he gasps out, thrusting shallowly as he pumps the condom full. he's tense, eyes shut tight and hands digging almost painfully into your hips.

the obscene plap of will's hips against the softness of your ass echoed through your dimly lit bedroom. you'd lost track of how many orgasms he'd pulled out of you by now, focused only on the glint of his chain reflecting in the lamp light and the way his cock knocked against that little spot inside of you.

your brain had gone silent a while ago, leaving you completely pliable and at his mercy as he rocked against you.

you didn't even hear his question, only the condescending laugh that followed your nonanswer. a pitiful whine tears from your throat as he pulls out, tapping the head of his cock against your pulsing clit.

"my sweet girl can't even think, huh?" he coos, hands cupping your thighs to tug you closer. he looked ungodly. his hair wings peaked out beneath his stupid backwards cap. his silver chain, the one that dangled beautifully around his throat and nudged your cheek with every hard thrust, rested against his tanned chest. his biceps bulged on either side of your head as he hovered you. you'd never been more grateful for his rigorous hockey training.

he slides his cock back into your dripping hole, grinning at the moan that rips through your parted lips. "that's it, baby. turn that pretty head off and let me take care of you."

your babbles and cries fill the air as will sets a shameless pace, his hands gripping your hips so tight you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning. "will, i can't!"

the fucker laughs. he actually laughs at your whimpers.

"oh, you can't?" he patronizes, slowing his hips to a torturous drag. "i thought you were gonna be good for me?" your oversensitive cunt flutters at his words and he tilts his head back with a strained groan.

the chatter downstairs finally quieted, signaling that will’s parents had finally retreated to the guest room, the one you’d spent days preparing just for them. you’d slipped away nearly an hour earlier, feigning a migraine as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom you and will shared, your social battery long drained. will had caught your eye as you left, offering an apologetic glance and a quiet promise of “I’ll be up soon” before turning back to his dad, mid-sentence about how incredible the sharks’ practice facility was.

his parents had been lovely, really. his mom had entertained you with stories of will’s childhood, proudly swiping through an endless amount of baby will photos before sharing a few of his favorite family recipes. his dad, quieter but no less warm, had taken it upon himself to investigate the odd rattling sound coming from under your car’s hood, roping will in under the guise of father-son bonding.

it wasn’t your fault. you were ovulating, and will looked delicious. backwards hat, sleeves pushed up, arms flexed as he leaned over the engine, tongue caught between his teeth in a quiet focus. it was unfair. borderline criminal, how hot he looked just existing.

as if working on the car hadn't already been enough, your brain decided to replay will on the golf course yesterday, like a highlight reel designed specifically to worsen the ache between your thighs.

he wasn’t even good at golf, which made it worse somehow, like he had no right to look that attractive while slicing drives into the trees. but there he was, effortlessly cocky in a white polo that clung just right across his back, hat backwards yet again, and those too-tight khaki shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

you remembered watching him line up a putt, tongue peeking out in concentration, the same way it did when he was under the hood of your car, or when he was pounding that little spot inside you like he was trying to knock it loose, focused entirely on making you cum all over his cock.

it didn't take long for you to get bored of waiting for will, fingers diving beneath the soaked cotton of your panties. you knew, in the back of your mind, that will would be up soon. his nighttime routine was quick — face wash, brush his teeth, maybe check the score of a game on his phone. but you couldn't really bring yourself to care.

your fingers danced around your clit before finally sinking into your warm heat. you let out a soft sigh of relief, ignoring the sound of the bedroom door opening.

"migraine, huh?" will chuckles, voice strained as if he's already trying not to blow his load at the sight of you.

"tried waiting for you," you whine, fingers pumping in and out of your aching cunt. will shakes his head, eyes locked on the way your panties stretch with each thrust of your fingers. he tosses his hat to the top of the dresser, settling on his knees between your thighs. he grips your wrist, ignoring your whines of protest as he tugs your hand out of your underwear.

"shh, i've got you," he murmurs, shifting down as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs. he lifts your legs, tugging them over his shoulders.

"what's got my girl all worked up, huh?" he mumbles, kissing the damp patch on your panties. he giggles as your hips buck, chasing his mouth.

"ovulating," you whine, chest rising and falling beneath the old t-shirt you'd stolen from his drawer.

"noted," he murmurs, hooking his fingers in the waist of your panties and tugging them down your thighs. you hastily kick them off, moaning softly as the cold air hits your soaking heat. will lets out a breathy laugh, running his index finger through your folds.

he's not patient enough to tease tonight, thank god. he leans down, tongue dragging through your folds like he's craving it. he's slow, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. his perfect nose nudges your clit, and you moan a little louder than he's comfortable with.

"you gotta be quiet, baby," he mumbles, thumbing comforting circles into your thighs. you nod frantically, eyes shut tight as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, desperate to get his mouth back on your cunt.

his tongue swirls your clit before he takes it into his mouth, sucking on the bundle of nerves. your hands tighten in his hair, hips bucking against his mouth as you try to keep your noises down.

he releases your clit, dipping his tongue into your entrance. you let out a soft gasp, writhing against the sheets. he hums against you, hands tightening their hold on your hips as he fucks his tongue into your dripping hole.

he finds the perfect rhythm, tongue swirling your spit-soaked, swollen clit, and fingers replacing his ministrations at your entrance. he pumps two digits into you, curling them into the spot that he knows so well.

"will, 'm gonna cum," you whimper, tugging at his blonde curls nestled between your fingers. his free hand interlocks with yours, giving you a soft squeeze of encouragement.

"cum for me, pretty girl," he mumbles, face buried deep in your pussy as he slurps and sucks. one more pump of his gorgeously long fingers sends you over the edge, back arching and hand ripping from his to cover your mouth, muffling the cries of his name. he works you through it, rubbing your hip as he eases you down from the high.

your back finally settles down onto the mattress again and he slowly pulls his fingers from your heat. he licks them clean, expression softening as you catch your breath. he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before silently heading to the bathroom. he returns a minute later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning you up. he takes his time, careful to not overstimulate you.

once he's finished, he tosses the washcloth towards the hamper. he lays down, pulling you into his arms.

you barely remember how you got from the stands to the locker room hallway, just that you were screaming and crying and laughing all at once. your throat was raw from yelling, your hands hurt from clapping, and you might’ve hugged a stranger (or four). but none of that mattered.

will won gold. team usa won gold.

now, you’re pressed up against him in a tucked away corner of the team’s afterparty, the loud bass of music thumping through your chest, the lingering taste of cheap champagne on both of your lips. will changed out of his gear, jersey thrown over his shoulder, gold medal heavy around his neck and in your face as he leans into you, smiling like he can’t believe any of this is actually real.

"world's hottest world champ," you slur, fingers tracing the medal around his neck.

his hands slide down to rest on your hips, pulling you closer until you can feel the bulge straining his jeans. the music thumps around you, and someone sprays a bottle of champagne nearby, but you're only focused on him and the gold glinting around his neck.

“you gonna keep talking, or are you gonna kiss me?” he teases, voice low and thick.

you answer by closing the space between you, lips meeting his in a kiss that tastes like beer and success.

“let’s get out of here,” he murmurs against your lips, “i’ve got a celebration in mind that doesn’t involve listening to cooley sing the national anthem again.”

"lead the way, champ," you mutter in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

the ride back to the hotel is quick and full of wandering touches and whispers. will mutters a "thanks" to the driver, tipping him before dragging you to the hotel room.

right as the door shuts, his lips are on yours, hot and heavy. his hands wander your body, settling on your hips with a firm touch. you pull back, panting.

"take everything off except the medal."

he chokes out a strained groan but obliges. his grey zip-up is discarded first, falling to the ground. the rest of his outfit follows suit, combining into a lazy pile on the floor. he frees his cock from his boxers, and it slaps up against his tummy, hard and leaking. he settles back against the headboard of the bed, looking at you expectantly.

you crawl onto the bed, grinning seductively. you straddle his thigh, tugging the white, backwards cap from his head and freeing his curls.

"hi, pretty," you mutter, catching his lips with your own. he groans into your mouth, hands coming down to tug at the hem of your top. you giggle, pulling back. you hold your arms up, letting him tug the shirt over your head.

he lets out a breath, eyes locked on the mounds peeking beneath your lacy bra. his fingers waste no time, slipping behind you to unclasp the metal keeping the fabric together. your bra slips down your arms, releasing your tits from the confinement.

"fuck," will groans out, hands coming up to squeeze at your tits. his head ducks down and he takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and suckling eagerly. you laugh breathlessly, arching into his mouth. your hands tangle in his blonde curls, giving a little tug at his roots.

his cock twitches against your thigh, begging for attention.

you gently tug his head from your tits, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "gonna take care of you, baby. lay back."

he nods, laying back against the plush pillows. the gold around his neck rises and falls with every breath he stutters out, and you can't help but reach to touch it as you settle between his thighs.

"fuckin' gold medal athlete," you mutter, pressing a kiss to his leaking tip, "so hot, will."

he drops his head back, eyes shutting tight as you give little kitten licks to his tip, collecting the precum he's spilling. he groans as you finally wrap your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks.

his hand collects your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding your head up and down his length. he swears under his breath, lips parted as he watches you take his cock down your throat.

"god, y'so pretty like that," he breathes out, "my sweet girl."

you moan around him, and he cries out, hips bucking up into your mouth. you gag at the intrusion, pulling off to catch your breath. he pants, brushing some stray hair out of your face.

"doin' so good," he praises, guiding your mouth back to his cock, "so fuckin' in love with you."

you hum, gazing up at him through your lashes, eyes wide and glossy. he groans like it physically pains him, tilting his head back.

"you can't look at me like that, i'll cum," he whines, hands tightening in your hair. you moan around him, the vibration causing a whine to escape his throat. your nails dig into the meat of his thighs as you take him deeper, drool pooling at the corners of your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck!" his stomach clenches, legs trembling as he tries to hold back. you take it as a challenge, sucking and bobbing a little harder.

"baby, baby, fuck-" he pleads, moans getting whiny and higher in pitch as he gets closer to the edge, "i'm gonna cum, oh shit-"

you hum around him, the vibration sending him over. he grips your head, hips bucking as he shoots hot, white spurts into your mouth. you swallow what you can, some of his release leaking out the corners of your mouth and down your chin.

his grip loosens, his thumb collecting the spilt cum from your chin. you pull off him, lips wrapping around his thumb, cleaning the mess he collected from your face.

"there you go," he pants, "atta girl."

he pulls his thumb away, molding his lips to yours. he gently pushes you back, hovering over you.