The concept of Dylan centering Connor Bedard makes me insane. Any more thoughts you can share on the matter?
part of dylan's propensity for Being In Greatness's Shadow comes from the fact that he is a centre. a winger needs someone to drive the play for them, someone to hold the reins as they pull the sleigh forward. dylan ended up as connor's teammate by luck, but it feels engineered somehow by fate that he was patrick kane's centre, that he was ovi's. a good complement to a much more powerful creature on his wing.
dylan has always wanted to be wanted. arizona couldn't bring him up properly, not that they can do that with anyone, and chicago gave him a taste of something but it clearly didn't sit right, and washington finally gave him what he deserved -- that relationship with ovi, who sings stupid songs about his baby caps in the hallway and who needed a centre in nicke's absence.
so dylan became nicke. if he's the same calibre of player or not it doesn't matter; he was the right fit for the job anyway, the puppetmaster, the fuel where ovi is the spark. the shadow.
dylan is 25 now, an intelligent, capable playmaker in a difficult league. he is no superstar, but he knows exactly how to worm his way into that spot right at the edge of the light.
bedard, meanwhile, is a firecracker of a child destined to enter one of the worst teams in the league. there's a very, very good chance he'll be the best player on a bad team for years. teams can take a long time to contend, even with a good pick. what does that do to you? what will that do to him?
so, that is how i would see it. dylan as a joe pavelski, of sorts. a patient, defensively responsible centre, covering up the flaws in his dazzling winger's game. a father to a reckless son. needed but never noticed.
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✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this
riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”
“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.
“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”
an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.
“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”
nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.
your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.
taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.
“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”
he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.
it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.
tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.
oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”
“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.
your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.
nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.
each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”
“f- fuck, keep talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.
your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”
with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.
you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.
“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.
nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”
kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”
“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.
with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.
pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.
as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”
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how hard could it be to keep a vibrator inside of you? that's what you thought after watching all these raunchy videos of these girls buckling at the knees and getting controlled by their partner, who held a tiny remote or their phone to control the waves of the vibrations. even though the videos themselves were hot, they just made you laugh at the dramatics of what was happening.
that was your thought process; that was exactly what you thought a few weeks prior before suguru brought home a vibrator for you to have and for him to control, and with him there was always a catch, and this time it was doing whatever you wanted if you could go an hour in public with it inside of you.
of course, you took on this ridiculous challenge because you had faith you were going to win, but the opposite happened, and it threw you for a loop.
once it was inside of you, that was when you felt your heart drop. the way it buzzed against your walls and hit your sweet spot just right as you tried to stand up straight was when you knew you were fucked. you thought that the way suguru overstimulated and stretched you out all the time would be light work, but this was the worst.
suguru knew what he was doing; he knew you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot, yet he still made you believe that there was a chance for you to win. a smirk on his face as he watches you put in the vibrator and the one piece that pushes against your clit.
double stimulation was your weakness; it had you squirting all over the sheets and losing your mind, so he was very curious to see what would happen with you trying to act "normal."
at first, the pleasure was bearable—a little lightheaded and your chest rising and falling at great speed—but it was nothing too bad. suguru didn't like that you weren't giving much of a reaction, so he decided to up the tempo, pushing the slider up more and watching you stop in your tracks.
public play wasn't really his thing, but the way you were looking and acting had his dick pressed against his sweatpants, almost a little too noticeable.
he wanted to give you a chance to actually walk around and feel it out first before he embarrassed you, so he turned it back down and let you go on about your day. you thought it was the end until you felt a sharp wave of pleasure shoot through you, almost stumbling and falling until suguru caught you in his arm, a light chuckle slipping past his lips.
it was at this moment that you realized that this wasn't for you, and the women in the videos were, in fact, not being dramatic, but suguru made sure to get use out of this vibrator. making every excuse in the book for you to wear it.
it was hell on earth, even though it felt so fucking good. you just couldn't handle the sharp waves of the vibrator, not only against the most sensitive part of the body, your clit but also your sweet spot.
the sight of you moaning and squirming was something he wished could be engraved inside of his mind. this was something much sexier than the things he did to you; it was just the fact that you tried to hold back and failed every time. drool slipping out the corner of your mouth and your eyes rolling to the top of your eyes lids as you tired to hold in every bit of groan and whimper.
regret on your mind every time he convinced you to put it in.
sometimes he would just watch you; it turned him on so much that he would just cum in his pants. he loved watching you when he knew that you couldn't handle something because it was so cute to see shock cross your face when you realized you couldn't.
sliding his hands over your body as it jolts and shakes from the extreme pleasure.
this was just a lesson on putting too much on your plate. you were greedy with pleasure, so he taught you better than words could, and fortunately for him, it paid off.
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