thesecretestblogever

[thesecretestblogever]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɪᴛ sᴛᴀʏs ᴏɴ

Pairing | Jack Hughes x afab!reader Summary | (nsfw) | He’s stuck in his head and she’s got a solution. And one that requires the suit to stay on but desires to roam free. Authors Note | This was requested by a nonnie a while ago along with Quinn and so I hope this finds them!! #bringbackdryhumping

Jack’s been laying on his bed for the past thirty minutes, just staring at the ceiling next to you. He’s got over two hours before he has to leave and he’s been silent, limbs unmoving while you’ve been doomscrolling through TikTok, telling yourself to get ready before his game but not actually getting up to do so. Usually, he’d say something, poke a teasing comment, nag you but nothing. It’s not like him to be so quiet before a game, usually raving about how he’ll be late due to the press, asking for one of your pep talks he loves or kissing you stupid for luck. But he’s wide eyed, hands on his stomach, suited and staring at the ceiling. 

You put your phone down, rolling onto your side and poke his chest, drawing little swirls over the fabric of his dress shirt, watching for a reaction but he just exhales.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” You ask quietly, searching his eyes for something, some response.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” He mutters, absently, gaze unmoving but his hand slides from his stomach to lace his fingers with yours. You whisper his name with a worry in your tone and his trance breaks, turning his head slightly to finally meet your eyes and how they soften upon seeing him. “Okay, I’m a little worried and I don’t know why.”

He’s breathing heavily, battling the unfamiliar fluttering feeling in his stomach. It’s not too unfamiliar but he only feels it when you’re riling him up, not over the sport he’s played his entire life. He’s supposed to have an unwavering confidence. Heat flushes to his face upon your lips brushing against his cheek.

“Could it have something to do with losing, by any chance? Frustrated? Taking all the weight when you shouldn’t be? Pent up in need of relief?” You ask, softly, eyes becoming half-lidded before pressing a kiss to his skin. 

“How do you do that?” He abruptly sits up, releasing your hand but knitting his eyebrows as if you’ve actually read his mind (not that he’s gullible, he just never knows how you read him so well).

You sit up and scoot next to him, taking his face in your hands and pressing wet kisses over his cheeks and to his lips, gliding your hands over his chest and swinging your leg over his lap, sliding yourself to straddle him. He knows that look in your eyes, the coy smile, the hands soothing over his chest and down his stomach and he’s squeezing your waist in response, excitement fizzling and thoughts distracted by the desires straining his slacks. 

You lower one hand and cup his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze, lips ghosting over his and in a low tone, you whisper. “Because I know you, J. Now let me help. Promise I’ll do the work.”

He bucks his hips up into your touch, licking his lips. His breath hitches, eyes fluttering close at the relief a simple touch can offer.

“Princess, please. I need you but I don’t wanna take the suit off-” 

“It’s not coming off.” You interrupt, looping your arms around his shoulders tight and dragging your hips over his dick, feeling his hard on rub against your cunt and the pulsing euphoria ignites a warmth through your stomach, clit aching for more. 

It’s addicting, the stimulation. The desire for more, your hips grinding over him slow and steady, letting your whimpers fall from you and become music to his ears. Jack’s suppressing any noise he feels bubbling in his chest, burying his face in your neck as he feels his hands following the increasing rolls over his cock, pent up frustration and nerves lifting gradually the faster you rut. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, muffled against the column of your neck but his fingers dig into your waist. He wishes he had more time and that he didn’t have to wait so long to have you, hopes that he won’t be exhausted because the way you’re moving your hips rattles to his core. “Feels good.”

“Ssshh, don’t be too loud. Kiss me.” 

Those words work like aphrodisiacs and he’s chasing your lips immediately, taking them into an eager kiss laced in deep hums of satisfaction and tongues lapping. He’s consumed by his desire, a knotting pressure building in his stomach the more you drag your pussy over his cock, aching for something further but constrained tight against his slacks. 

“Should do this more often- fuck!” He mumbles, a groan following as he bucks up, chuckling at the whimper that slips from you. “Gonna fuck you after the game, wanna feel your pussy so bad.”

It feels like a cue and so you take it, slowing your grinding and he’s in agony - a deprived agony that you’re teasing him to hit your own pleasure. After all, you deserve the stimulation too, your clit is pulsing and you want to drag out his moans for as long as you can before he crumbles. 

“Oh my God, shit! Faster.” He (almost) begs, pulling you into his chest and exhaling deep when you roll your hips at the frenzied and keen pace from before, your high approaching but that’s not the goal today. He plants wet kisses to your jaw, voice vibrating against you as he speaks. “Oh fuck, yeah, like that, princess.”

You’re a woman of wonder to him, his kryptonite, his peace and his chaos and he loves it. He loves the pressure in his stomach, feeling his abs clench as his cock yearns for your walls, needs to thrust inside you and fill you full but he knows he doesn’t have time right now. But he’s losing his composure, small moans huffing from him before he confesses.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck. Pretty girl- fucking shit- I’m gonna cum.” He blurts, grip on your waist loosening and head blank, craving the bliss he’s almost approaching.

“Good job I have a mouth to finish you off then. Can’t ruin the suit after all.” Your grinding comes to a slow stop, and you shuffle off of his lap, stepping between his legs and sinking to your knees. His lips twinge up and he chuckles, shaking his head lightly, dick twitching as you unbuckle his belt and undo his slacks. The woman you are, all knowing and so in tune with how he’s feeling, what he needs, and he’s obsessed with it. You unzip his fly, his hips lifting so you can pull his slacks down enough before you’re pulling him from his boxers, hand wrapping around his hard cock and giving him broad strokes with a wildfire gleaming in your eyes. You lick your lips, relishing your work and how much of a mess you’ve made him, ecstatic for him to have you boneless after his game.

[Masterlist] [Requests CLOSED]

2025 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

Banners & dividers belong to me.

[thesecretestblogever]

I’m so sorry!!! I’d love a Cappuccino with vanilla syrup and cold foam (doggy or reverse cowgirl? I don’t mind the position) and cold foam (ekky finding out his partner has a tramp stamp)! Thank you so much

- 🦢 anon

kind of a one night stand sort of vibe but these two definitely have potential for more! i still don't know how to fit "ekky" into a fic (it's not very sexy...) so enjoy an overuse of "william" <3

“How do you want me?” you ask in a cheeky voice, posing on William’s bed. 

His face is hidden in the fabric of his t-shirt and when he finishes removing it, there’s a wide smile on William’s face. “Come on, you know,” he says. 

“I knew the plunging back on my dress would work for someone,” you tease, allowing one of the straps to fall off your shoulder enticingly. 

“Baby, that tramp stamp works for everyone,” William replies with a chuckle. “I was far from the only guy in the club looking at you.”

“But you’re the only one who took me home.” You bat your eyelashes at William and bring the other strap down, shimmying free from your dress. Your panties are tan lace, hugging your hips and ass in the best way. They rise enough to bracket the tattoo at the base of your spine, all smooth lines and dark curves. 

William unbuckles his pants with one hand, standing behind you and kissing the back of your neck. His other hand finds your abdomen, thumb stroking the smooth skin. “I have so many ideas,” he murmurs.

“Choose your favorite,” you reply, reaching around behind you to guide William’s wandering lips to your mouth. You whisper against his mouth: “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, William.”

He moans lowly at that, sliding his tongue into your mouth. His pants drop to the ground and he leans over you, kissing you down until you’re on all fours and he lays over your back. It’s then that William resumes his previous path, kissing over your cheek and neck to get to your delicate spine. He covers each inch with a wet kiss, stopping right over the lines of your tattoo and treating it with pure reverence.

When he fucks you, you know that he’s watching the way your ass bounces off his pelvis, how that shake affects the dainty ink above your supple skin. His hands cement on the sides of your hips, keeping you in place as he rams into you. “Feels fucking good,” William pants, laying a smack on your right cheek before grabbing the flesh and using it as leverage. 

He tells you to touch yourself, to circle your clit until you feel like you’re going to collapse beneath him. When your legs are shaking from the impact of your release and his balls are tight, William retreats from your heat and strips his cock, rapid, slick sounds filling the room. His free hand is between your waist and backbone, priming the splash zone for his seed.

You can feel the strips of cum splatter across your lower back, painting the empty space between inked lines. He marks you with his ejaculation, the hot white stripes branding you. His thumbs massage the semen into your skin, his pelvis still pressed against your quivering cunt.

“Had to do that,” William tells you before he rolls you onto your back and moseys between your legs. He kisses you slowly, sliding his hands over your body before cupping your jaw. “Since I saw your tramp stamp, I’ve needed to do that.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, looping a leg over his waist and pulling him closer. His cock brushes your pussy and you grind against it again. Your lips are an inch from his. “Now you just have to fill me with it. Can you go again?”

William smirks, tongue kneading yours. “Give me five minutes,” he vows in a low voice. He rolls his hips between your legs, intimate parts brushing. “I’m going to rock your world.”

[thesecretestblogever]

hi, happy 1 year 🥹💗💕, could i request a cafe latte with vanilla syrup: missionary and peppermint: established relationship for qh43 🩷 ty!

sry this is beaquinn core for me; if you get to the point where "quinn says your full name" just know that your full name is supposed to be "beatrice". thank u

“You feel so great,” Quinn says in a tone akin to a swear. “So tight and wet and perfect, could– shit– could stay inside you forever.”

“I feel like that might get uncomfortable after a while,” you quip, carding your fingers through Quinn’s soft waves and breathing in deep when he buries himself to the hilt. “I love when you fuck me, baby, but I think it would be hard to go grocery shopping if you were always inside me.”

“We can order delivery,” Quinn replies, nuzzling under your chin and dragging his lips over your skin. “People can shop for us. I’ll spend my millions on it.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you reminded me of your millions,” you sigh, rolling your head back on the fluffy pillows in his bed. “That’s such a turn on. Fuck me, Quinn, fuck me hard.”

His laughter comes out in muffled puffs against your neck. His teeth bite down on your shoulder playfully, a smirk on his face once he kisses back up to your lips. “Ha, ha,” he exaggerates. Quinn brushes a lock of hair out of your face and peppers your freckles with sweet pecks. “I knew you were in this for the money.”

You throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him in for another kiss, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. “It’s so good to know I can stop pretending.”

Quinn sighs and smiles into the kiss, sinking into your heat again. “I fucking love you,” he murmurs. “I know you’re joking, but if you weren’t, I’d still let you spend all my money if it meant you’re mine.”

“That’s really sweet, Q, but now I’m worried that you’re susceptible to scammers,” you giggle, sliding a hand over his bicep. “Just fuck me, baby. Let’s not talk about it.”

Quinn draws out of your cunt and rolls onto his back. “Ugh, I feel like we ruined the moment.”

“No,” you whine, rolling onto your side and rubbing his chest. You tuck yourself into his side and kiss his neck, making soft noises. “Quintin.”

He wraps his arm around you, playing with the ends of your hair. He drawls your full name, fixing his beautiful eyes on yours. Quinn’s pupils dilate, lips quirked. He groans as he moves, rolling back on top of you and slotting his thigh between yours. Quinn cages you between his arms, dropped low on his elbows. He slots your mouths together, a soft kiss that tastes like his toothpaste. 

“I want it,” you tell him quietly.

“Best three words you’ve ever said,” Quinn replies. He lays his weight on one arm, the other sliding between your bodies to line himself up with your core. 

The sex is quiet this time, your breaths mixing together like leaves in the wind. Quinn holds your hip possessively, lips nudging your cheek and temple when you moan and whimper and sigh, encouraging you to do more. His pelvis swivels against yours, bringing you to orgasm slowly and surely, practiced and certain. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair when you come, massaging your sides and holding you close. “My beautiful girl. Take me so well, so sweet and lovely.”

“Quinn,” you breathe. His body is plastered against yours, pinning you to the bed, and there’s nowhere you’d rather be. He’s still pumping inside you slowly, the aftershocks diminishing despite your nerves being on end. “You feel great, babe.”

“Hm, thanks,” Quinn murmurs. He captures your lips. “Gonna make you come again, what do you think about that?”

“Ooh, I think you’re shooting for the stars,” you tease. “Let’s make it happen.”

[thesecretestblogever]

ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | (nsfw) | With an empty lake house and game of ‘how much can she press her ass against him’, painfully aroused, Quinn couldn't turn down her offer. Authors Note | I saw @quinniferhughesenthusiast mention she wanted to see this months ago (maybe longer) and so, I am finally posting Quinn after a long long while (my bad).

“Oh God, oh fuck! Yes!” She chanted, voice breathy with a tint of high pitch as her body rocked against the pool table, tits pressing against the surface with every thrust inside her.

Quinn’s hair stuck to the back of his neck, the sweat making the ends curl as he pinned her arms behind her back, his other hand gripped her hips until his fingers left faint bruises over the skin. He’d always fantasised about that scenario, but he never could find the opportunity until then, when everyone had left. When y/n had asked to play pool with him, slipping in as close as she could in front of him before bending over and wiggling her ass into his crotch. She played that game often, cat and mouse, riling him up in public just to draw a reaction from him because deep down she knew his desires, knew what he wanted but the glints in his eyes and he couldn’t fathom whether he liked that. Until then, when he loved it. Watching her body jolt as he slammed his cock in and out of her pussy, her shorts kicked aside.

He leaned over, pressing his lips to her neck, his kisses contrasting his hips with slow and warm, beard tickling and sending pleasant shivers down her spine. He trailed his lips to the shell of her ear, nibbling the cartilage before speaking clit throbbingly arousing words of praise.

“That’s it, let it out, sweetheart.” He murmured, husky and airy, hot breath fanning over her skin. “Tell me how good you feel.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open, huffs escaping as a fizzling excitement ran through her nerves, hips driving harshly with loud ‘plap’ sounds echoing off the skins colliding, his dick pulsing as her walls hugged him, allowing him to slip in through the slick and hit the back of her cervix. She was music to his ears, her moans sharp and airy, like he was fucking the air from her lungs. 

She whined, pussy clenching around him, lips almost perking into a smile hearing his grunts as he bucked his hips into her rhythmically. Heaven. He felt like heaven, filling her out, his grip on her arms perfect and warm. Quinn was too easy to rile up while playing pool, easy to tease, easy to entice by simply bending over. 

“Faster, Q, please. Fuck me faster.”

“Fucking love when you ask me that.” He grumbled with a chuckle, bringing his thrusting to a stop and tapping her thigh. “Up, nice ‘nd wide for me, pretty girl. Wanna watch your needy pussy take me.”

He hooked his hand underneath the fat, guiding her to hike her leg up and on to the pool table, cunt spreading open for him and the cool air fanning her folds and sending a chill through her, soon to be warmed again as Quinn rocked his hips. His pace increased, easing back and forth until his cock slipped in and out with a vigour, a greed, a carnal desperation in his stomach that made heat prickle up his back and sweat drip down his neck. With his jaw clenching, low and rough grunts vibrated in his chest, thrusting hammering into her as his eyes locked on the way he disappeared into her leaking cunt, her arousal seeping down her thighs and onto the wooden trimming of the pool table and there was something so territorial about that. 

Her pussy ached, the pleasure dumbing her down until her eyes fluttered back and his name wailed out in high-pitched chants into the games room, lower stomach pulling tighter and tighter the harder and faster he bucked. She felt her limbs becoming weaker, her legs quivering, body relying on the table to prop herself up, skin flaring hot and the rapture all-consuming until her chest panted out ‘please’. 

“Tired? C’mon, pretty, you gotta finish what you started. You gonna cum f’me? I know you want to; you’re shaking.” Quinn teased, his hand leaving a playful yet firm slap across her ass as his thrusting became sloppier, his stomach tensing and his peak approaching fast.

It felt euphoric. The stretching, the slap, the tingles shooting over her. All she wanted was to release the pressure in her stomach and taint the table, as gross as it sounded. Listening to his loose and heavy groans only coaxed the satisfaction more and she knew he was just as close as she was by his grip weakening and the vehement and desperate ruts.

“Yes, Quinn. Wanna cum. Gonna cum.” She sobbed, the tears rimming her eyes and threatening to fall, the pleasure overstimulating and in dire need to wash over her.

“Good girl.” His voice shook slightly, his eyes squeezing shut and head tilting back. “You’re doin’ so well, sweetheart.”

He moaned, releasing her arms and placing his hands on her waist as he gave one final thrust in, hot ropes spurting inside her walls and their shaky moans falling in harmony. Her legs trembled, body collapsing onto the pool table and a faint ringing in her ears as her cunt took him in. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, letting his cock nestle inside her just that bit longer to fill her up before leaning forward, pressing a long and wet kiss to her cheek.

[Masterlist] [Requests CLOSED]

2025 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

Banners & dividers belong to me.

[thesecretestblogever]

frat!will loves seeing reader is dainty panties

LOSING MY MIND YES

you picked up a pair of lacy crotchless panties to surprise him. They're soft pink and the lace is flower patterened.

Your bent over the bed when he pushes your skirt up to pool around your waist and you feel him pause. The silence that fills the room isn't uncomfortable. You know he's simply admiring and taking in the view. A warm palm smooths over your ass and the soft fabric.

"Fuck, baby."

His fingers sweep through your soaked folds, the arousal coating your thighs at this point since there was no fabric to hold it back. Your open and weeping for him, your pussy shining and leaking. It's fluttering around open air as he traces his fingers along the soft skin. He can't help himself, sinking two, long fingers into your heat and watching the lace darken in color with your slick.

He's mesmerized by the pink bow that sits above your asscrack, and when it comes time to fuck you, good and deep, he obviously doesn't bother removing them.

ALSO disclaimer to everyone: since i clearly don't have time to write requests or full pieces right now, feel free to send me any player headcanons. It doesn't have to be frat! Will

[thesecretestblogever]

will (or mack) eating you out and leaving bite marks all over your inner thighs 🙏🙏

nsfw content below

will starts with his head between your thighs like it’s where he’s supposed to be. like he doesn't even think about it. like his brain sees your bare cunt and just short-circuits, no thoughts, no questions, just mouth open and tongue out, blond curls brushing your hips while he drags the flat of it up the mess between your legs like he’s thirsty and you’re the only fucking drink.

you’re already shaking before he even does anything. before his lips seal over your clit and he sucks, slow and greedy, tongue flicking just soft enough to make your thighs twitch. his fingers spread your lips like he wants to see it all, like your pussy’s a fucking delicacy and he’s been starving, eyes glazed, jaw working steady, no finesse at all, just need. raw and wet and hungry.

and fuck—he moans like you taste better than anything. nose pressed into your pubic bone, face slick with spit and slick and the way he fuckin groans—it vibrates up your spine. like he’s getting off on eating you out more than he ever did fucking. like he wants to live there. crawl in and die happy.

his hands squeeze your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to bruise, dragging you closer, locking you in place. and when you try to lift your hips, ride his face, do something about how good he’s sucking you, he pins you right back down with a sharp bite to your inner thigh. not even thinking about it, just teeth sinking in like instinct.

“fuck,” you gasp, jerking, half-laughing through the moan, “what the—”

but then he does it again. other side. teeth sinking into soft skin, right where thigh meets pelvis, leaving a mark you feel, sharp and hot, followed by that wet tongue lapping over the bite like he’s soothing it. like he wants you to feel it later. like he wants you marked up and sore and dripping.

“can’t help it,” will mumbles, words muffled against your cunt, voice hoarse. “tastes so fuckin’ good. like candy, fuck—”

his mouth's everywhere. sloppier now, no rhythm, just raw worship. he licks into you like he’s tongue-deep in something sacred, makes out with your pussy like it’s got a mouth of its own. tongue curling inside, then dragging out slow, leaving trails of spit that smear down your ass when he pulls back to bite you again, another deep press of teeth that makes your whole leg jolt.

and then right back to your clit. lips soft at first, then sucking hard, flicking with the tip of his tongue, then dragging the flat of it in long, wet strokes that leave you sobbing. thighs twitching, stomach clenching, whole body locked in a slow, trembling coil.

he doesn’t stop to breathe. doesn’t stop at all. just groans and slurps and fuckin feasts, one hand pressed flat to your belly like he’s trying to hold your orgasm down while he eats it out of you.

“gonna cum,” you gasp, nails in his hair, pulling, pushing, anything—“fuck, will, i’m gonna—”

he just moans again. louder this time. pushes his face in deeper, tongue fluttering against your clit like he wants to drown in it, and you snap, cunt clenching hard enough to make your thighs clamp around his head. he stays there. lets you fuck your orgasm out on his mouth, tongue working the whole time, lapping, sucking, groaning like he’s the one getting off.

you’re twitching when he finally pulls back, face wrecked. mouth and chin soaked, blond curls damp with sweat and slick, blue eyes wild and unfocused like he’s high off the taste of you. and his lips are already moving down your thigh again, slow open-mouthed kisses that turn into more bites, each one deeper, darker, claiming.

he kisses around the bruise blooming on your inner thigh, then bites again, harder. leaves a ring of teeth just above your knee.

“not done,” he mumbles against your skin, voice dazed, wet, wrecked.

and he doesn’t. not for a long, long time.

[thesecretestblogever]

Okay hear me outtt… frat! Will x reader doing it in a hot tub after his family goes to bed

And he knows how to put the jets to good use...

He makes sure the lights are on in the hot tub, so he can really get a good look at you as you ride him on the ledge under the hot water.

The water is sloshing around, pooling over the edges of the tub from all your movement, and the concrete bites into you hands in the best way possible when he bends you over the edge - it keeps you centered and present. The jet is massaging your pussy, but that doesn't stop him from dipping his hand into the front of your bikini (that he just pushed aside earlier to slip inside of you) and rub over your aching clit.

He's good at covering your mouth with his large hand to make sure that you're not making too much noise to alert anyone around, and he let's you bite down on the soft skin of his palm, because the feeling of the hot water and him filling you up is just too divine. You almost pass out when you come from the heat, but he makes sure to hold you against him and let's you know what a good girl you were.

[thesecretestblogever]

frat!will doing sweet dominate things in their everyday lives

Yes, 100%.

He'll never let you pay for anything yourself, and will grab your card from your hand if you ever try and pay.

His hand rests on the back of your neck, squeezing softly now and then in a comforting way, but you can't help but think about it wrapped around your throat when he's thrusting his hips into yours, both of you desperately chasing your release.

He picks out your outfits for you, because he knows what looks best on you (and what he likes too). You pointed out once when he "forgot" to put panties out for you, but he assured you that was in purpose. It made it much easier to lift your skirt and fuck you in the bathroom later as yet another party raged outside.

[thesecretestblogever]

i love boston college

gabe perreault 🤪😻😊😆🙌💋

🍬anon😘😘😘😘😘😘

OH HE'S A CUTIE~~~~~~~

His face is giving sweet angel boy cherub, but I really don't know anything about him.

[thesecretestblogever]

Frat!Will would soooo call his girl something along the lines of pretty girl or pretty baby

OH ABSOLUTELY

I love "pretty baby" - that's so cute.

Pretty girl is used for when you get dressed up for a date or when he has you spread out in front of him.

He has you on the bed on your elbows and knees, ass up in the air as he's smoothing his hand over the red, stinging skin of your ass after smacking it. There will be some nice hand prints there in the morning. You've already come once, and your skin is hot and flushed, your breathing still catching up.

When he enters you, it's with a deep groan as your soaking pussy pulls him in. He wraps his arms around you waist to pull you up and flush against his chest.

"Pretty girl, you take me so well, yea?"

You can only moan into the air, your head slumped against his shoulder as he fills you over and over again. One hand comes to tilt your face towards him so he can press sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your pink lips.

"My pretty baby. Gonna come on this cock?" He murmurs against you.

[thesecretestblogever]

HI MY BABIES

I've been disgustingly busy, but know that I haven't fallen off the face of the planet.

GOT SOME FRAT! WILL ASKS that I absolutely need to answer, and I'm dying to write/ finish some other things.

[thesecretestblogever]

champagne coast | s. crosby

“on my last strength against you

baby, tell me what you need”

warnings: smut w/ plot, explicit sexual content, MDNI, 18+, NSFW, smut

summary: Sidney isn’t yours, and you aren’t his, but in moments like these it’s easier to pretend that there’s something besides the sex.

request: would love a sidney fucking u to tears fic!!! no pressure but wuld be so tasty in ur style !! love ur work :)

word count: 10.2k

song: champagne coast - blood orange

a/n: still working on perfect places, trying to make it better because I hate how I ended up writing it out, have a few more in the drafts waiting to be released but I hope you enjoy this one! original asker don’t hesitate to reach out if you hate/love it! enjoy guys <3

—

Your apartment was quiet when you got home. Golden hour had started to settle over the buildings outside your window—burning up the edges of the skyline in that soft, buttery light. You dropped your keys in the dish by the door, slid your shoes off with your toe, and moved on autopilot toward the couch like your body already knew what it needed.

The cushions sighed under your weight as you flopped back, arm tossed over your eyes. The kind of tired that clung to your skin, that post-work haze where you’re not really thinking, just being. You weren’t even gonna check your phone at first—not until you heard it ding on the coffee table.

Twice.

Pause.

Then once more.

That tone. You knew that text tone. Because you were a stupid girl with your read receipts off and a custom tone setting for his texts. Like a dumb little Pavlovian dog.

You cracked one eye open. Reached over with a lazy arm. Unlocked the screen. And—yep.

Sidney [6:03 PM]: You home?

Just two words. No emoji, no punctuation. But it still did that thing to you. That tight twist low in your stomach, the flutter in your chest that you hated admitting was real.

You stared at it for a second longer than you should have.

He knew he was gonna get a reply. That’s the worst part. That’s the part that made you wanna roll your eyes and smile at the same time. Because he’d been doing this long enough to know that he had you. Not in a bad way. But in the stupid, heady, chemical brain-melt kind of way.

You sat up just enough to type back.

You [6:05 PM]: Unfortunately yeah. Couchbound.

A minute passed. Another buzz.

Sidney [6:06 PM]: That a complaint?

You snorted. Typical smug shit. You shifted back into the corner of the couch, one leg bent under you, phone warm in your hand now.

You [6:06 PM]: Couchbound = no pants. So. I’ll let you decide.

Sidney [6:07 PM]: Jesus christ

Sidney [6:07 PM]: I’m in a team meeting right now

You laughed. Full-on. Head back against the cushion, warmth rushing up the back of your neck like you were nineteen again. It shouldn’t still feel like this. Not when you’ve known him for over a year. Not when he’s flown you out to Pittsburgh more times than you can count. Not when you’ve already had him in your bed and his.

But it did.

He always knew how to hit the gas.

You [6:08 PM]: Mmm. Hope you’re not sitting near the coaches.

Sidney [6:09 PM]: You trying to make me pop a boner during film review?

You [6:09 PM]: I would never

You [6:10 PM]: I just think it’d be really funny if your laptop was in your lap

He didn’t reply right away. You imagined him in that room with his team, the blue light of the projector flickering across his face, jaw tight, mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smile. One hand on his phone under the table, the other probably running along his thigh.

Probably thinking about your legs, too. How they always look when you’re curled up on your sofa.

And then:

Sidney [6:14 PM]: You have any plans tomorrow?

You sat up straighter. That was quick.

And that... that was the start of it.

Because this was always the rhythm.

Light talk. Dirty joke. And then that switch. The one you both recognized before either of you said anything out loud.

He’d be here tomorrow. You knew that. You’d looked it up weeks ago. Like a fucking idiot. You even marked it on your calendar in a soft little dot—like it was a dentist appointment or some other innocent shit.

You [6:14 PM]: Oh, I dunno. Might wash my hair. Might ride a hockey player. Who’s to say.

It took him no time at all.

Sidney [6:14 PM]: I’ll come see you

Sidney [6:15 PM]: Same place?

You bit the inside of your cheek.

God, he really was a sweet-talking menace. It was in the way he didn’t ask—he knew. You weren’t gonna say no. You never said no. Not to him. Not when he looked at you like he did. Not when his voice dropped just slightly over the phone when he called you late at night, and you knew he was alone in his room, whispering just for you.

You [6:15PM]: You gonna knock like a gentleman or just let yourself in again?

Sidney [6:16 PM]: That depends

Sidney [6:16 PM]: You want me to be a gentleman?

You [6:17 PM]: Not even a little bit.

Your heart was beating faster now. The apartment was still quiet, but your body wasn’t still anymore. You sat forward, legs curled tighter beneath you, your other hand flexing restlessly at your side.

Another buzz.

Sidney [6:18 PM]: I’ve been thinking about you for days

Sidney [6:18 PM]: Thought about you this morning in the shower

Sidney [6:19 PM]: I’d say that’s pretty rude of you

You closed your eyes. Leaned back again. Breathed out slow.

It was always like this before he came to town. This haunting build-up. Like his presence arrived ahead of him. You could already feel him in your space—already smell the fabric softener he used that clung to your sheets. You hadn’t washed the pillowcase from the last time he was here. That stupid, dumb part of you had just left it.

You [6:20 PM]: I’ve been sleeping on your side of the bed.

You [6:20 PM]: I think it misses you.

Another pause. A longer one this time.

You imagined his face again. That unreadable stare he gets sometimes—too much behind his eyes. You’ve seen it after games, after goals, after wins and losses.

And then:

Sidney [6:24 PM]: Do you miss me?

Your stomach flipped.

God, he always did this. Said one little thing that made you feel like you’d been cracked wide open. And it wasn’t even fair, because he’d follow it up with something filthy and ruin it anyway.

But this time you just answered honestly.

Because fuck it.

You did.

You [6:25 PM]: Yeah.

You [6:26 PM]: I do.

No emoji. No jokes.

Just the truth.

And then you waited.

You waited in that too-still room, with the sun still sinking outside and the buzz of the fridge the only sound for a minute. And when your phone lit up again, your chest actually ached.

Sidney [6:30 PM]: Sleep over?

You smiled. God, you were so screwed.

Because Sidney Crosby, face of the fucking league, was texting you like a teenage boyfriend.

And you loved it.

You absolutely loved it.

You [6:31 PM]: You bringin’ pajamas this time? Or just the abs?

Sidney [6:32 PM]: Just the abs. Maybe a toothbrush.

Sidney [6:32 PM]: Gotta keep the tongue clean for you.

You groaned. Actually groaned aloud, dropped your head back and muttered, “This fucking guy.”

But yeah.

You were shaving tomorrow.

You were shaving everything.

[9:56 PM]

The next time you heard from him you were already in bed and he called.

Not texted. Called.

Your phone lit up beside you, and your stomach jumped like it always did. You stared at his name for a second—Sidney—before you thumbed it to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

His voice was low. Rough like he’d just cleared his throat, or maybe like he’d been talking a lot all day and was winding down. “You’re in bed already?”

You smiled to yourself, turning on your side and tucking the blanket up to your shoulder. “Yeah. You keeping tabs now?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “No. Just picturing you. That’s all.”

“Mmm.” You rolled your eyes and let your voice go soft. “Are you picturing pajamas, or are you picturing lingerie I don’t even own?”

“Oh, you own it,” he said. “You’re just pretending you don’t so I’ll come buy it for you.”

You grinned. “Now that’s a good idea.”

There was a pause on his end. Just quiet, heavy breathing. Like he was letting himself imagine it. You knew that sound well. Knew it from nights just like this—when he was on the other end of the phone in a hotel room somewhere and you were in your bed, a city and a timezone away.

“What’re you wearing?” he asked, voice a little softer now. Like he couldn’t help it.

You laughed. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.”

You pulled the blanket tighter, suddenly aware of how bare your legs were, how thin your tank top felt against your chest. “Okay fine,” you murmured. “T-shirt. No bra. Underwear. Kinda useless ones.”

He groaned. “Fuck.”

You smirked. “What, not the answer you wanted?”

“It’s exactly the answer I wanted. Which is the problem.”

You could hear the smile in his voice now. That slow-building tension. Like he was relaxing into it, settling in for the game you always played.

“You still in your meeting?” you asked.

“No,” he said. “I’m in my room. Lights off. Lying on my back thinking about you.”

Your thighs clenched without you meaning to. That voice—his voice—always did that. Soft and low and a little scratchy like he’d been talking for too long. You could picture him perfectly. His hair messy. One arm behind his head. Shirtless, probably.

And you were what he was thinking about.

Which was insane.

Still. After all this time. That he wanted you like that.

“What part of me, specifically?” you teased. “Because I’ve got a lot of real estate.”

Sid laughed quietly. “You want me to go top-down or bottom-up?”

“Top-down. Let’s be classy.”

He hummed. “Mouth. First. Obviously.”

You smiled, warm now under the covers. “Because of my sweet personality?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about what it looks like when you take me deep.”

You covered your mouth and kicked your leg out under the blanket. “You’re disgusting.”

“You asked.”

“I did.”

He let the silence stretch for a beat. Like he could feel you on the other end of the line, warm and squirming, trying not to smile too hard.

“I miss your face,” he added softly. “And your laugh. And your mouth, obviously. And your back.”

“My back?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled, slow. “That curve, just above your ass. Where I rest my hand when I’m behind you.”

You blinked up at the ceiling, breath caught in your throat. There it was again—that thing he did. The way he could go from filthy to fond in a heartbeat. The way he didn’t even try to hide that he paid attention. That he missed you. Even if he didn’t always say it outright.

“You’re too good at this,” you said, voice quieter now.

“I know,” he whispered. “I’ve had a lot of practice with you.”

“You better not have practice with anyone else.”

He chuckled. “Jealous?”

You paused. “Should I be?”

Another pause. His voice dropped.

“No.”

And god. That one-word answer sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t have time for anyone else,” he added. “And if I did… they wouldn’t be you.”

It was quiet for a second. Just your breath in your own ears. His, soft and steady.

“Now I’m really not gonna be able to sleep,” you whispered.

“Why?”

“Because my brain’s gonna loop this conversation until morning.”

“That’s fair,” he murmured. “You want me to help wear you out when I get there?”

Your cheeks burned. “You offering cardio?”

“I’m offering a full-body workout. Legs shaking. Sheets ruined. The usual.”

You covered your face with your arm and let out the softest groan. “Jesus Christ, Sid.”

He smiled against the speaker. “What?”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you love it.”

You did. God, you did.

“You landing tomorrow?”

“Yep,” he said. “I’ll text you when. You want me to pick you up, or you wanna meet at yours first?”

You considered. “Meet at mine, I’ve still got work in the morning.”

“Good,” he said, voice thick with promise. “Because I’m gonna be thinking about you all morning.”

You let the silence sit there, heavy and warm.

And then finally: “Goodnight, Sid.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

Your heart did that dumb flip again.

“Sleep well.”

“You too. Dream of me.”

“I always do.”

[9:48 AM]

You weren’t exactly a stellar employee that next morning.

You spent the entire fucking day trying not to look like you were waiting for a text.

Your phone was face-down on your desk, but that didn’t mean shit. You still checked it every ten minutes like a girl in high school who hadn’t outgrown the crush phase. You were pathetic. And the worst part? You didn’t even care.

It had started as a trickle—just a few messages while you were brushing your teeth this morning. You weren’t even fully dressed, still in the oversized tee you’d slept in, when you saw the first one.

Sidney [8:34 AM]: Just landed.

Then another:

Sidney [8:35 AM]: I haven’t even seen you yet and I’m already hard. Do something about that.

You’d actually dropped your toothbrush into the sink.

You didn’t answer right away because you knew what kind of spiral you’d tumble into if you did, and also because you had twenty minutes to get your ass out the door and into traffic. You were late. And you didn’t care. Because he was here.

By the time you were halfway through your drive, stuck behind some dickhead in a BMW who couldn’t figure out what a blinker was, he’d sent another one.

Sidney [9:12 AM]: Thinking about staying at your place tonight and ruining you in that bed of yours.

Sidney [9:13 AM]: That okay?

You’d answered yes before your brain even processed it.

Of course he was staying at your place. He always did.

And that was the part that ruined you the most.

He had a hotel room booked. You knew he did. Probably a nice one too, paid for by the team or the league or whatever mysterious arm of professional hockey handled those things. But he never used it. At least, not when you were in town.

Because when Sidney Crosby came to California, he stayed with you.

Every. Time.

And you let him. No questions. No boundaries. No illusions that it meant anything deeper than what it was. But still—he always dropped his bag by your door like he belonged there. Like it was second nature. Like home.

And that? That was the shit that wrecked you.

Not the sex. Not the bruises he left on the inside of your thighs. Not even the soft, stupid way he said your name in the dark like he was afraid it would disappear.

No. It was the quiet little normal things. The way he asked where the toothpaste was. The way he brought his own coffee from Pittsburgh but still used your shitty little French press. The way his voice dropped when he got out of the shower and said “C’mere.” like that was just how he said good morning.

You were supposed to be at work focusing on the spreadsheets on your screen. But your brain was soaked in him.

You stared at your screen for what had to be twenty straight minutes, rereading the same goddamn sentence of an email and imagining what his hands were doing right now. If he was already on the team bus. If he was wearing a suit or one of those Polos that made you feel insane.

Your coworker walked by your desk, snapped her fingers in your face.

“Earth to you. You okay? You’ve been zoning out for like—ten minutes. That email gonna write itself?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Just…” You waved vaguely at your laptop. “Just tired.”

Lie. You were wired.

You shot off the email—barely readable, but who gave a fuck—then finally flipped your phone over.

New message. Of course there was.

Sidney [10:33 AM]: Hotel gave me the wrong keycard. Some poor guy walked in on me changing. Pretty sure he saw dick.

You slapped a hand over your mouth to hide your laugh, eyes stinging from trying to keep it in.

You [10:34 AM]: Poor guy? Sounds like he got a show.

Sid [10:37 AM]: He looked horrified. I might’ve scarred him. You should come fix it.

You [10:37 AM]: Fix it how? Kiss it better?

Sidney [10:38]: God yes. I’ll leave skate early.

You blinked. That wasn’t like him. He was usually pretty strict about team shit, at least when it came to meetings and skates.

You [10:40 AM]: You’re not serious.

Sidney [10:41 AM]: I’m hard. I’m restless. I’m thinking about your skin and your sheets and how good you smell. I’ve got half a mind to fake an illness.

You [10:42 AM] Don’t you dare. You could get benched and it’d be my fault.

Sidney [10:43 AM]: If I’m gonna sit on the bench, might as well be because you made me useless.

You shook your head, smiling. He was impossible. Walking around like he didn’t have you completely fucked up from the inside out.

You [10:56 AM]: You better show up at my door with dinner. You’re not getting any without bringing me food first.

Sidney [10:58 AM]: So that’s the price? A taco tax?

You [10:59 AM]: That and a kiss.

Sidney [11:03 AM]: One kiss? You’re underselling yourself.

You [11:04 AM]: Fine. One kiss, a margarita, and you have to let me use you as a body pillow all night.

Sidney [11:07 AM]: You say that like I’m not into it. I wanna be crushed by your thighs and smothered by your hair.

You [11:09 AM]: I wanna ride your face until you can’t remember your own name.

Sidney [11:13 AM]: I love it when you talk romance to me.

Your thighs clenched under your desk.

Pathetic. You were so pathetic.

You dropped your phone into your lap and took a deep breath. A long one. You had at least four hours left in the workday, and you were about as useful as a wet napkin. All you could think about was his voice. His hands. The look on his face the first time he stepped back into your apartment like it was his.

Because that was the part that killed you the most.

He felt like he belonged. Like he fit there, in your space, beside you in your bed with his socks on and his arm tucked under your neck, face buried in your hair like he was hiding.

You weren’t his.

You never would be.

But every time he looked at you like that—like you were oxygen—it made you want things you had no business wanting. And fuck if it didn’t make the hours crawl by. You wanted him now. Needed him like you needed your next breath.

[4:47 PM]

You knew he was there the second you stepped off the elevator.

Your building always smelled faintly of hallway cleaner and burnt coffee, but tonight? It smelled like him. Like his cologne—subtle, clean, something stupidly expensive that always clung to your sheets long after he left. Like him standing behind you with his chin on your shoulder. Like the warm, dense press of his chest to your back in the middle of the night.

You hadn’t even opened your front door and your stomach was already flipping. You hated it. You loved it.

You unlocked it and pushed it open.

There he was.

Sprawled on your sofa. Hair damp from the shower. Wearing a gray Penguins hoodie with the sleeves shoved up to his forearms, a pair of black athletic shorts that barely reached mid-thigh sitting down, and bare fucking feet on your coffee table like he lived there. Like he belonged.

His bag was by the door, half-unzipped. His phone was in one hand, and there was an empty glass—probably water—on the side table next to him. You noticed the faint smell of his body wash, like cedar and clean skin, already curling in the air like it missed you.

He looked up.

And holy fuck.

Your breath left your chest before you could stop it. He looked like sin. Warm, flushed, relaxed. That look in his eye—like he’d already been thinking about touching you. Like he knew you were gonna let him.

He stood immediately. Didn’t say anything at first, just came to you in three easy strides like his body was already pulling toward yours. Like he didn’t need a reason.

And maybe you should’ve said something. Maybe you should’ve made a joke or pretended to be unaffected. Maybe you should’ve been stronger. You weren’t. You never were with him.

You dropped your bag on the floor, kicked the door shut with your heel, and then—

His hands were already in your hair, his mouth already on yours.

“Fuck,” he breathed, between kisses, as your arms came up around his neck. “Hi, baby.”

It knocked something loose in you, hearing that. Six months without him and now he was here, mouth dragging along your cheekbone, fingers gripping your waist like he didn’t know how to do this gently.

“Hey,” you whispered back, laughing a little from how winded you already were. “Jesus, you couldn’t even wait five seconds?”

“Nope,” he said, unapologetic, already kissing the corner of your mouth again. “You look so fucking good. You smell good. You feel good. I missed you. So much.”

His voice was lower than usual, a little rough. Almost hoarse. Like he’d been thinking about this all day. Like it wasn’t just about getting off—it was about you.

You let your hands slide under the back of his hoodie, skin to skin. He was warm, solid, all lean muscle and broad shoulders and that ridiculous lower back you hated how well you remembered. “You’re damp,” you murmured against his jaw, biting down just a little. “You showered in my shower?”

“You mad about it?”

“Not yet. You leave the towels on the floor again and I will be.”

He grinned against your skin. “Worth it.”

You kissed him again, slower this time. Deeper. Let it linger. Let him part your lips and take his fucking time. Your body was already humming, vibrating like something electric lived under your skin. You wanted him in your bed. In your space. Inside you. Yesterday.

“You still have my key,” you muttered, half against his mouth.

His hands moved to your ass. He squeezed, shameless. “You never asked for it back.”

“You never gave it back.”

“I didn’t wanna lose it,” he said, smiling like a bastard.

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers were already pushing through his hair. Still damp, still soft, still impossibly familiar.

“Have you seriously just been sitting here all cozy on my couch like you live here?”

“I do live here. When I’m in California. I’ve got a toothbrush and everything.”

“You’re such a piece of shit.”

“You love it,” he said, nuzzling into your neck. “God, I missed this neck. Missed the sounds you make when I—”

You slapped his shoulder lightly, laughing. “Sidney.”

“What?” he grinned. “I’ve been good. I haven’t even tried to get my hand down your pants yet.”

“Yet?”

He stepped back, looking at you. Really looking. The kind of look that made your knees weaker than you cared to admit. That look he gave you the first time he’d seen you walk across that bar like you weren’t about to change his whole fucking life.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you on the flight. I was hard halfway across the country.”

You snorted. “You’re so gross.”

“And you’re so pretty,” he said, tugging you close again. His hand slid along your waist, thumb brushing under the hem of your shirt. “Seriously. How am I supposed to be normal about this?”

“You’re not normal about this. You’re obsessed.”

He kissed your jaw. “I am.”

Your throat tightened.

He said it so easily. So shamelessly. Like it wasn’t supposed to matter. Like it didn’t already.

You felt a shift when he lifted you then. His grip on your waist was possessive, like he was reminding you that he could take what he wanted. You wanted it, though. Needed it. His lips didn’t leave yours for a second as he carried you, your body pressed tightly to his, your hands tangled in his hair.

You barely noticed when your back hit the doorframe. You were too busy losing yourself in the taste of him, in the feel of him. His mouth was everywhere—your lips, your jaw, the hollow of your throat—his hands sliding under your shirt like they belonged there.

You pulled back, gasping, and looked up at him through your lashes, eyes hazy with want. “Sid...”

“What?” He barely let you get the word out before his mouth found yours again. His kiss was harder this time—rougher, like he was trying to make up for every moment he hadn’t had you.

His body pressed into yours, and you could feel every inch of him—his chest, his hips, the hard press of his dick against you. You moaned softly into the kiss, hands sliding down to his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed under your touch.

“You’re killing me,” you murmured, tearing your mouth away to look at him properly. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. Like he was starved.

“You’re killing me first,” he growled, his hands already pushing your shirt up. You didn’t stop him. You couldn’t. The way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—like everything else faded to black when you were near him.

He tossed your shirt onto the floor, he set you down, his hands moving to toy with the waistband of your work slacks, and he set you down so he could get them off. You let out a little breathless laugh. “This is definitely a ‘fuck first, talk later’ situation, huh?”

“Always, babe,” he said, voice so deep it made your insides tighten. “You don’t get to make the rules anymore.”

He kissed you again, and you melted into it. His tongue found yours, and it was deep, slow, all-consuming. You could feel his heart pounding under your palms as you slid your hands down his chest, reaching the hem of his hoodie and pulling both his hoodie and shirt off of him in one go.

When he stepped back, there was a brief moment where you both paused, taking in the sight of each other. His abs were more defined than you remembered, his skin still that perfect shade of sun-kissed gold. You couldn’t stop your fingers from tracing the lines of him, down his chest, over the deep V of his hips.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” you whispered, admiring the way he was still standing there, half undressed, waiting for you.

“You make me perfect,” he said, his voice rasping with something more than desire.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him back toward you. “Let’s see if you’re really perfect, Crosby.”

You dragged him to your bed, letting him fall into the sheets with you. The second you were both on the mattress, he was on you, kissing you again, moving with a need that made your breath catch in your throat.

He lifted your hips, tugging at your pants, and you were all too eager to help him. “Been thinking about this for months,” he murmured between kisses, pulling your slacks down your legs with impatient hands.

“Me too,” you managed to say, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “You have no idea.”

“Tell me,” he said, leaning down to kiss your neck, his mouth soft but insistent. “Tell me everything.”

You gasped as his lips found the curve of your neck. “I—fuck—I missed you,” you said, the words tumbling out like you couldn’t keep them inside anymore. “Missed your touch. Missed your voice, the way you make me feel like I’m the only fucking person that matters.”

He groaned, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your throat. “You are the only fucking person that matters,” he muttered. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. You have me.”

And then his mouth was back on yours. His hands cupped your breasts, fingers brushing over your nipples, and you arched into him with a soft moan. He broke the kiss again, looking down at you with the kind of expression that made you feel like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

He tugged his shorts down, and you shivered at the thought of what was to come. “You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, voice thick with lust, but still gentle, like he needed your confirmation. “I want you more than anything, but I’m not gonna force you.”

You tugged him back to you, pressing your lips to his neck, your hands tugging at the waistband of his boxers. “Shut up and fuck me, Sid.”

He turned over and sat back on his elbows, hands coming up to rest on your hips, just looking.

“You always stare this long?” you asked, voice soft but teasing.

“When I’m starving, yeah.”

His voice dropped. “And you know how long it’s been.”

You tilted your head. “What like 6 months?”

He looked up, smiling. “You counted?”

“Not that difficult.”

You ran a hand through his hair, tugging gently. “You gonna make up for it or just sit there?”

“Oh, I’m gonna make up for it.”

His hands slid down and around, cupping your ass, squeezing once. “But don’t act like you’re not dying to climb on top of me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I haven’t been thinking about it since breakfast?”

He spread his legs a little wider. “Then show me.”

You didn’t need more than that.

You straddled him slowly, knees bracketing his thighs, your chest brushing his. His hands roamed like he couldn’t decide where to keep them—hips, thighs, up your sides. Everywhere. You rocked your hips once, slow, just to tease.

“Jesus,” he whispered, jaw clenching. “You gonna ride me slow or make me beg?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you said, leaning in to kiss just beneath his ear. “Depends on how sweet you are.”

“I can be sweet,” he murmured, lips catching your shoulder. “I can be so fucking sweet.”

You were already grinding against him through both layers of clothes now, your breath hitching every time he pushed up into you. He kept one hand on your ass and slid the other between your legs, palming you over your underwear. You gasped and pressed harder against him, your head falling to his shoulder.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered, nose brushing your jaw. “Fuck, baby.”

“You did this,” you managed. “You’re the reason.”

“I know,” he growled. “That’s why I’m losing my fucking mind.”

You pulled back just enough to tug your underwear to the side and reach for him. He was hard—hot and heavy and already leaking at the tip. And when you looked down between you, you saw the way his stomach jumped when your fingers closed around him.

You leaned in, kissed him slow, deep, and filthy, mouths open and tongues dragging, his breath catching against your cheek when you lined him up and slid down in one slow, brutal motion.

“Fuck, fuck, baby…” he groaned, arms wrapping tight around your waist.

Your head dropped to his chest, lips parted, breathing hard as you adjusted to him. You felt full in a way that was only ever him. You circled your hips once, slow, and his whole body jerked under you.

“You okay?” you whispered, half-laughing.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” he hissed. “I’m trying not to blow it.”

You laughed again—soft and warm—and kissed his jaw. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“You’re always so tight.”

You moved slow at first. Rocking gently, hips rolling. His hands gripped your thighs, then your waist, then slid up your spine. And every time you moved, he said your name like a prayer.

When you leaned forward and braced your hands on his chest, his eyes rolled back.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You were made to fuck me.”

You smiled against his mouth. “Think so?”

“Know so.”

You started riding him harder then. The slap of skin, the wet heat of it, your name in his throat over and over. His fingers dug into your hips.

"Harder, Sid," you panted, feeling the orgasm build like a storm in your core. "Need it harder."

Sidney's eyes lit up, he sat up, flipping you over so that you were now lying on your back, his body hovering over yours. He slammed into you in a way that stole your breath, your legs falling open. "Is that what you want?" he growled, his voice a dark promise.

"Yes," you moaned, arching your back to meet his thrusts. "Oh, fuck yes."

Sidney took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes traveling down your body to where he was buried deep inside you. He spread your legs open, his hands holding them in place, and began to move in a steady motion, watching himself disappear into your welcoming warmth, only to come out glistening with your arousal before plunging back in again. "Look at me, baby," he said, his voice thick with lust. "Watch how good I fuck you."

You couldn't help but whimper at his words, your eyes drawn to the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing between your thighs. It was almost hypnotic, the way he moved, the way your body responded to his every touch. "Sidney," you breathed, your voice a plea for more.

With a grunt, he lifted your hips up slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts, his hands now gripping your ass tightly. The new position had your head spinning with pleasure, the sensation of him filling you up even more intensely than before.

"Oh, fuck yes," you moaned, your nails digging into his back. The angle allowed him to hit that sweet spot deep inside you that had your toes curling and your eyes watering with each stroke. He took this as a cue to go deeper, harder, faster. You could feel him thickening, his cock pulsing with each thrust, and the knowledge that he was so close to the edge had your own orgasm coming down on you like a freight train.

"Touch yourself, baby," Sidney rasped, his eyes never leaving yours.

You swallowed hard. You've done it before, sure, but the way he said it made it feel new, like a delicious secret you were sharing. You brought your hand down between your legs, your fingers gliding over the slickness he'd created. You felt shy for a moment, unsure of what to do, but Sidney's eyes never left yours, encouraging, hungry.

With trembling fingers, you found your clit, the tiny bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention. You began to rub it in slow circles, your movements hesitant at first.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

He leaned down, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you deeply, his tongue mimicking the motion of his hips as they pounded into you. The room was thick with the scent of sex. His hips never stopped.

You began to move your hand more confidently, your fingers circling and teasing your clit with a precision that had Sidney groaning into your mouth. He liked watching you touch yourself, liked knowing that you were so lost in pleasure that you couldn't help but give in.

"That's it," he murmured against your lips. "You're so fucking perfect."

The tension grew, each stroke of your hand and thrust of his hips bringing you closer to the edge. Sidney's breath was hot and ragged against your neck as he kissed and nibbled the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of heat. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he hadn't had you in years, not just months. They found their way to your breasts again, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks.

You moaned into his ear, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice hoarse with passion. "Please don't stop."

Sidney's response was to increase his pace, his cock slamming into you in a way that was almost painful, but oh so good. Your hand moved faster on your clit, the sensation building higher and higher.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted, his eyes darkening with lust. "Gonna make me come."

You felt the first tremor of your orgasm, your body tightening around his cock. The feeling was so intense, you had to bite down on your lower lip to keep from screaming. Your fingers danced over your clit, the pressure building until you couldn't take it anymore. You slammed your hand down, pressing hard as you felt the wave of pleasure crash over you. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you threw your head back, the moan that tore from your throat was raw.

It was fast and sudden and violent. Your whole body clenched, head thrown back, hips grinding down while he hissed through his teeth and held you steady.

But he didn't stop. If anything, his thrusts grew harder, his hips slamming into yours as he watched you come apart in his arms. He liked it when you were like this, vulnerable and lost to the moment, his name a chant on your lips. His length was so hard it ached, and he knew he was close, so fucking close.

He shifted the position without pulling out. He gently closed your legs, his cock still buried deep inside you, and rolled you onto your side. The angle was different now, he moved his hips in a steady, grinding motion. You clutched the bed sheets, your knuckles white with the effort of holding on, as he whispered in your ear.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Say it."

You could only moan in response, your voice lost in the haze of pleasure. He chuckled, the sound low and dark, and rolled you onto your stomach, pulling you up onto your hands and knees. Your ass was in the air, and you could feel the heat of his body as he hovered over you, his cock still buried deep within your pussy. He placed a hand on the small of your back, keeping you in place as he began to move again.

"Say it," he repeated, his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You whimpered, the sensation of his cock moving inside you from this angle was almost too much for you.

"I'm yours," you finally gasped out, the words barely a whisper.

Sidney chuckled. "Good girl," he praised, his hand moving to grip your hip harder.

He pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you, making you whine with need. Then, with a wicked smile, he slammed back into you, the sound of your flesh colliding with his sending a shiver down his spine.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, the feel of you so tight around him driving him wild.

You dropped down onto your elbows, arching your back even more, giving him the perfect view of your ass as it bounced off of him. He watched as his cock disappeared and reappeared between your cheeks, the sight making him even harder. He liked watching you like this, taking him, begging for more. He liked the way your pussy gripped him like a tight fist, the way you moved your hips back to meet him, fucking him just as hard as he fucked you.

With a grunt, Sidney reached back, his hand smacking your ass with a firm, satisfying sound that echoed through the room. You moaned, the sting mixing with the pleasure, urging him on. He smacked you again, harder this time, his hand coming down with a force that had you seeing stars.

"Uh huh," you breathed.

You felt his cock slide out of you, the sudden emptiness making you whine in protest. Your legs were trembling, your pussy pulsing with the need for release. "No, please," you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded.

"Not yet, baby," Sidney said with a wicked grin, his voice a low purr. He reached down, his thumb brushing over your clit in a way that had you biting back a scream. "Want to feel you come on my tongue."

He flipped you over onto your back. You were trembling with need, your entire body alive with sensation. He slid down your body, kissing and sucking marks into your skin as he went. His breath was hot against your inner thighs, sending shivers through you. He spread your legs wide and took a moment to appreciate the view. Your pussy was swollen and wet, pulsing around nothing, begging for his attention. He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation had you arching off the bed, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Mm Sid," you gasped as his tongue swirled around your clit. He chuckled, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. He licked and sucked, his mouth working you like a pro, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you from bucking him off. You could feel yourself getting closer, your orgasm building like a storm in your belly. "M gonna come," you panted, your voice breathless.

Sidney didn't stop, didn't even pause. He pushed two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot, and you almost screamed. Your hands found his hair, fisting it tightly.

You were close, so close. His tongue was relentless, swirling around your clit, flicking it just so, sending bolts of electricity shooting through your body. His fingers moved in and out of you in a steady rhythm, curling just right. You could feel your orgasm building, the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every stroke of his tongue.

"Shit," you gasped, your voice high and desperate. "Fuck, Sid."

His eyes sparked with mischief as he felt your legs begin to tremble around his head. He knew you were close, and the thought of making you come like this had his cock throbbing against his stomach. He slid another finger inside you, stretching you further, and you moaned, the sound muffled by the back of your hand. You were grinding against his face now, riding his mouth like it was his cock, and the feeling was driving him wild. He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, squeezing him like a vice.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pressure build, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Sid, Sid, Sid," you chanted, your voice a high-pitched whine that grew louder with each passing second. He could feel your thighs tense up, and he knew it was coming. He sucked on your clit, his fingers moving in and out of you in a way that had you seeing spots. "Fuck, Sidney, fuck, oh my God," you screamed.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, so intense you thought you might drown in it. Your eyes watered, and your legs shook violently, trying to find stability on anything to keep you grounded. But Sidney didn't stop, didn't even flinch as your nails dug into the back of his neck. He held you down, his mouth working you through the intensity until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him.

As the last of the waves settled, Sidney slowly kissed his way up your body, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Each kiss was like a brand that said you belonged to him in this moment, in this bed. When he reached your mouth, he took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently, teasing you until you opened your mouth to let him in. He kissed you deep and slow, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste the sweetness of your release. You moaned into the kiss, your body still humming with pleasure, your eyes glossed over with tears threatening to spill over.

While Sidney kissed you, his hand found its way between your thighs again, his fingers softly caressing your still-throbbing, still wet pussy. You felt your body respond almost immediately. His thumb slid over your clit, and you shuddered, the sensitivity making you gasp.

Without breaking the kiss, you reached down too, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. He groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking slightly. You stroked him slowly, feeling the veins pulse under your fingertips, the velvety skin hot and slick with pre-cum.

You pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss with a gasp for air. "You're so fucking big," you murmured, a hint of amazement in your voice. Sidney chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You say that every time," he said, his voice teasing.

"Because it's true every time," you replied, your voice a low purr as you continued to rub your finger over the slick head of his cock. You watched as a bead of precum slid down the length of him.

Sidney chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest, vibrating against yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. You could feel his heart pounding, matching the rhythm of your own, and the heat from his body seeped into your skin. He kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance of passion. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, the muscles in his stomach tightening.

As you continued to stroke him, you wrapped your other arm around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against you. Your breasts pressed against his chest, your hardened nipples brushing against his skin.

You felt him shift, the head of his cock nudging against your folds, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to slide along your entrance. He groaned, his hips rolling in a silent plea for you to let him in, but you had other plans. You took the tip of his cock in your hand, rubbing it along your wetness, teasing yourself, teasing him, watching his reaction with a small smile.

"You're killing me, baby," Sidney groaned, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and lust.

With a smirk, you lifted your legs, wrapping them around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back. Sidney groaned, the sudden pressure making his cock throb with need. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to be inside you again. He lined up the head of his cock with your slick entrance, the anticipation almost too much to handle. With a final, almost desperate look into your eyes, he slapped his cock against your pussy, the wet sound echoing in the room.

He pushed into you, the force making you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You felt so full, so complete with him inside you, like nothing else in the world mattered except the two of you and this moment.

Sidney's eyes never left yours as he began to move, his hips pistoning in a rhythm that had you gasping for air, your body moving in perfect sync with his. The slap of skin on skin filled the room. Each thrust was deep, claiming, and you could feel the head of his cock brush against your cervix, sending a new wave of pleasure crashing over you.

You clung to his biceps, your nails digging into the solid muscle, using them as leverage to meet him thrust for thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, so intense that you had to squeeze your eyes shut, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out. You could feel your orgasm building again, a pressure that was almost too much to bear.

Sid’s hips moved with a purpose, his cock hitting that spot inside you that had you begging for more, even though you weren't sure you could handle it.

"Look at me," he growled, his voice low and demanding.

You did, your eyes meeting his, and the connection was like a bolt of lightning, setting your entire body on fire. With each thrust, he went deeper, filling you so completely that you weren't sure where he ended and you began. And when he finally reached the peak, his cock pulsing deep inside you, you felt his warmth flood you, his release marking you as his own. He didn't stop moving, though, his hips grinding against yours, his cock still hard and thick, still fucking you through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

The feeling was intense, almost painful, but you didn't want it to end. You felt his come dripping down your thighs, a warm, sticky mess. And as he continued to move, the sensation grew, the pleasure turning into something almost unbearable.

Sidney's hand found its way to one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over the nipple as he fucked you, his strokes deep and slow. You bit down on his shoulder, muffling the sounds of your pleasure, your eyes watering from the overwhelming sensation. You could feel the muscles in his arms flexing, the sweat on his back making your grip slip as you held on for dear life. His other hand moved to your neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin as his fingers threaded into your hair, gently pulling your head back to expose your throat to his hungry mouth.

He kissed and licked your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he continued to pump into you, his cock still thick and hard even after his first release. The feeling of him coming deep inside of you was something you never got used to. You felt his hips grind fully against yours, his pelvis pressing against your clit, the friction making you gasp for air.

Sidney felt your pussy tighten around his cock, the walls clenching in a way that told him you were close. He loved making you come, loved watching you fall apart underneath him. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you, making you gasp.

Your eyes fluttered, meeting his for a second, and in that moment, you knew. Your throat was raw from screaming his name, and your voice had abandoned you, leaving only the desperate, quiet gasps that escaped your parted lips. You felt it building, the pressure deep in your core, spreading through your body like wildfire. You clung to Sidney, your nails digging into his back, your body arching off the bed.

His eyes narrowed as he watched you, reading your every move, every twitch of your body, every shallow breath. He knew you so well, knew exactly what you needed, and he was going to give it to you until you couldn't take it anymore. He continued to move, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had your eyes rolling back in your head. The only sounds in the room were the slap of skin against skin, the harshness of his breath, and the faint sound of your pussy, clenching and releasing around his cock, begging for more.

Another orgasm washed over you, a silent scream of pleasure that had you trembling beneath him. Your body arched, your back bowed, but no sound escaped your throat. It was as if the intensity had stolen your voice, leaving only the desperate gasps for air that filled the quiet room. Sidney groaned, feeling your walls tighten around him, the sensation pushing him closer to the edge once more. He didn't stop, didn't even slow down, his need for you as insatiable as ever.

You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held back, his jaw clenched with the effort of not coming again too soon. But you were lost in the haze of pleasure, your mind a blur of sensation, and you couldn't help but move your hips against his, urging him on.

Another orgasm washed over you, you felt your body convulse around his cock, your pussy clenching tightly, pulling him in deeper, milking him for every drop of pleasure he had to give. And through the silent cries of ecstasy, the tears that rolled down your cheeks, Sidney watched you. He kissed each one as they fell, tasting the salt of your pleasure on his lips, his movements never faltering, never stopping.

You were so sensitive now, so raw with need, that even the brush of his stubble against your cheek was enough to make you whimper. Your orgasm continued to ripple through you, like aftershocks from a powerful earthquake, leaving you trembling and exposed. Sidney took your cries as encouragement, his own passion spiraling out of control as he felt your body responding to his touch, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Fuck, baby, you're so goddamn tight," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

His hips moved faster, his strokes growing more erratic as he approached his own peak again. You could feel his balls tighten, his cock pulsing with every thrust.

Your tears continued to fall as Sidney buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. He kissed you there, his tongue tracing the line of your collarbone as his cock slammed into you with a force that shook the bed. And as he chased his release, you felt your own orgasm building again.

Your body was a symphony of feelings, your pussy tightening and releasing around his thick length, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping you both upright. You could feel his muscles tense, his entire body coiled like a spring about to snap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tight as he picked up the pace.

Sidney's breath was hot and ragged against your ear, his teeth nipping at your lobe as he whispered sweet nothings. You felt the bed shake beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall in a steady rhythm. Your nails dug into his back, leaving little half-moons on his skin, but he didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he liked it.

With one final, powerful thrust, he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth as he came. The sound was raw. His cock pulsed deep inside you, his come filling you up, mixing with your own release. The feeling was indescribable, a warmth that spread from your core to the very tips of your toes. You could feel him tense against you, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

He wrapped his arms around you, mouth open against your collarbone, “Fuck, fuck—God, baby—”

As his release calmed, he rested his forehead against yours, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance that you felt the same, that he hadn't just used you as a means to an end. You kissed him softly, a silent promise that you felt everything he did, that you were just as invested in this as he was. He pulled out of you slowly, the loss making you whimper, your body already missing the feeling of fullness.

The bedside clock glowed 8:23 PM in soft red letters.

You turned to lay your stomach, cheek pressed into your pillow, still a little sweaty, still very much naked. Your leg draped over Sidney’s hip like it belonged there—like it always had—and one of his arms curled loosely around your waist, fingers drawing lazy circles just under your ribs, his fingers kept brushing higher, like he was absentmindedly plotting his next move.

You hummed softly, voice low and rough from all the noises you were making. “You’re still awake?”

His fingers paused. “You think I could sleep after that?”

You cracked a grin into your pillow. “Was I that good?”

“You know you were.”

You turned your face toward him, just enough to catch the smug tilt of his mouth. His hair was messy, sticking up in weird angles, and his cheeks were still flushed from earlier. You hated how good he looked like this—soft, tired, yours.

“I do have a gift,” you said with a dramatic little sigh. “My talents are wasted on you.”

He leaned in and kissed your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Big talk for someone who couldn’t stop shaking a few minutes ago.”

You slapped his arm without even lifting your head.

He laughed, warm and smug and Sidney.

A moment passed.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

You hummed again. “What?”

“You coming to the game tomorrow?”

You opened one eye and gave him the flattest stare you could muster. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

He shifted onto his side so he could see you better, resting his head on his hand. “I am seriously asking. I know you work. I didn’t want to assume.”

You groaned. “Don’t be responsible. It’s disgusting.”

Sidney snorted. “Okay, sorry. Let me try again.”

You closed your eyes again and tried to go back to pretending you were tired and content and not giddy as hell just being with him.

“…You coming to the game tomorrow, or am I gonna have to play like shit just to get your attention?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too hard. “Mmm. What’s in it for me?”

He paused. You could feel him grinning without looking. “You want me to bribe you to come see me play?”

“I want you to try.”

Sidney shifted again, leaning over you now, kissing your shoulder, then your back. “Okay,” he murmured against your skin. “You come to the game…”

He trailed his hand down the curve of your side, slow and deliberate.

“…and I’ll take you to dinner after.”

You turned your head just enough to give him a skeptical look. “That’s the best you’ve got? Dinner? That’s what you’re leading with?”

He laughed into your shoulder. “You like food!”

“I also like not being treated like a fucking groupie.”

“You’re not a groupie. You’re—” He hesitated. “You’re you.”

That made your heart do a weird thing. You ignored it.

You rolled onto your back with a dramatic sigh, pulling the sheet up over your chest even though he’d already seen everything several times tonight. “Try harder.”

“Jesus. You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” he admitted easily. “Okay. You come to the game… I’ll take you to dinner, and—” he leaned in, voice low and tempting, “—I’ll leave you the quarter zip again.”

You blinked. “The one I’m obsessed with?”

“Yeah. I’ll even spray it with my cologne so it smells like me when I leave.”

You rolled your eyes, even though your stomach fluttered. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who asked for it.”

You mock-gasped. “So you admit I’m pathetic.”

“Baby,” he said, dragging the word out, “I’ve been saying that since the first night we met.”

You reached out and grabbed a pillow, hitting him in the chest with it. “Asshole.”

He laughed and caught your wrist, then kissed the inside of it like he was apologizing for teasing you, which he definitely wasn’t.

“You are pathetic,” he said gently. “But so am I.”

You gave him a look. “You showed up here unannounced and used a key I gave you six months ago.”

“Exactly.”

“You should be in a hotel. With your team. You remember them, Captain?”

“Hotels don’t have you in them.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He leaned down and kissed you again—slow and soft and unhurried. Like he had nowhere else to be. Like you were the only thing he gave a shit about right now.

You sighed into it, letting your fingers curl around the back of his neck. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed.”

He laughed again, cocky. “I am good in bed.”

“God, I hate how smug you are.”

“You love that too.”

You kissed him again. “Yeah,” you murmured, lips brushing his. “Unfortunately.”

Sid pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and soft. “So that’s a yes? I’ll see you there?”

You groaned dramatically. “Ugh, fine. I’ll come watch you do your stupid little hockey.”

He grinned and kissed your hip. “Wear my jersey.”

“Gross.”

“Please.”

You fake-gagged.

He leaned up over you, face hovering close, eyes soft in that way that made you feel like you were nineteen and falling hard for the first time.

“You look hot in it,” he said. “Do it for me.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

He kissed your forehead, then settled back beside you, pulling you into his arms like it was the easiest thing in the world.

It was almost annoying how right it felt. Like he belonged in your bed. Like you belonged in his arms.

Like this wasn’t a game you kept playing because you were too scared of what it would mean to stop.

You sighed again and rested your head on his chest. “You’re gonna owe me so much after tomorrow.”

He ran his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you want, baby. Just tell me.”

And god help you—you believed him.

—

[thesecretestblogever]

yes pls blurb about cucumber scented papi

you slip under the covers like you’re crawling into a forest—warm, dense, soft, and shadowed in the best way. auston’s already there, sprawled on his back like a living furnace, bare-chested with the sheets shoved low on his hips, big hand resting absently over his stomach. his legs are everywhere. he takes up the whole mattress. you always end up curled on top of him out of necessity, but also because… well. him.

and he smells like cucumber.

“you still wear women’s deodorant?” you murmur as you nudge your nose against his arm, dragging your knee over his thigh until your whole body’s flushed against his side.

he hums, not even opening his eyes. “yeah.”

you twist your mouth into a smile, hand flattening against his chest. “dove. cucumber and green tea.”

“it’s fresh,” he mumbles. “smells good.”

“smells like me,” you tease, dragging your leg higher until you’re straddling his thigh, draped all over him. you nestle your cheek into the place where his chest meets his shoulder, breathing in deep. “why do you smell prettier than me?”

his chest rumbles under your ear with a lazy laugh, thick arm curling around your back, massive palm settling at the base of your spine. his fingers slip just beneath the hem of your sleep shirt, warm against your skin. “because i am prettier than you,” he says, smug.

you flick his nipple in retaliation and he flinches, grunts, grabs your wrist.

“you’re such a brat,” he mutters.

“you’re such a girl,” you shoot back, lifting your head and narrowing your eyes. “seriously, what happened to old spice? axe? you’re a hockey player, you’re supposed to smell like danger and testosterone and… bench press.”

auston doesn’t even blink. “you like it,” he says. “you always breathe me in like a fucking bloodhound.”

you roll your eyes, but he’s right. it’s so him—this clean, cucumbery softness wrapped in six-foot-three of muscle and body hair and low, slow voice. like if a mountain wore a sundress.

he shifts then, dragging you higher on his chest, your thighs sliding around his ribs. his big hand cups the back of your head and buries you in his neck like he wants you fused there. he smells amazing. you smell amazing, too, because you’ve stolen the same deodorant from the bathroom counter more times than you’ll admit.

“you just want to be the little spoon,” you murmur, lips brushing his jaw.

“damn right,” he says. “but only if you do that thing where you rub my back and kiss behind my ear.”

you do. he melts like a goddamn popsicle.

“you’re so soft,” you say into his skin, amused. “you’re like… if a bear joined a spa.”

he growls half-heartedly, nuzzling into your temple. “shut up.”

“you exfoliate better than i do.”

“shut up.”

“you asked the girl at shoppers if they had the extra big can of the dove kind because you liked it so much.”

he flips you. one motion. you’re suddenly under a wall of muscle and cucumber scent, your arms pinned loosely, his thigh wedged between yours. he smells like girlhood and manhood and something distinctly domestic.

“you’re lucky i like you,” he says, nose brushing yours.

“i’m lucky you’re a walking skincare commercial,” you whisper, giggling as he buries his face in your neck again, lips brushing over your pulse.

he kisses your collarbone, your shoulder, every inch of bare skin he can find.

you fall asleep wrapped in his body, your own scent wrapped around you. cucumber. green tea. him. you’d recognize him blind.

[thesecretestblogever]

hi Andy, can I get an americano with whipped cream and cold foam for trevor? (dom trev mocking your moans)

tz thank you for your time i want you so bad

Trevor’s free hand applies pressure to your throat, pulling you from all fours to your knees. Your back attaches to his front, head resting against the side of his face. Trevor smirks at your flushed figure in the mirror before you, dropping a kiss on your lax lips and licking into your mouth. “Pretty,” he says. “You see how you take me?”

Your unfocused gaze dips to your core, where Trevor’s cock is thrusting into you steadily. 

“Good girl,” Trevor coos condescendingly, giving your neck a soft squeeze. “You’re tight, baby. Make some noise for Daddy.”

Your mouth falls open as he drives into you harder, faster. Obscene wet sounds fill the room, his thick length coated in your arousal. 

“Come on, baby. I can’t hear you over this pussy,” Trevor continues. He nudges your chin and poises his lips just above yours. In a lower voice, he teases, “She’s talking to me.”

You whine, turning into Trevor’s neck and hiding.

His fingers dig into your windpipe, pulling you from your refuge and encouraging you to look at your reflection, the way your bodies are wrapped around each other, connecting in the most lewd way. Trevor removes his hand from your neck and uses both hands to knead your boobs, pinching your nipples until they’re puffy and swollen. 

“Daddy,” you moan in a broken voice.

“Daddy,” Trevor mocks. “Louder. You can do better than that. I want you to scream. Or have I just fucked you so well that you can’t speak?”

He bites your pulse point, tonguing along the beating vein beneath your skin. Your pants turn into soft moans in Trevor’s ear. His breath puffs out over your skin, tone high-pitched as he mimics your noises. He laps at the sweat beading under your jaw.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” Trevor moans in a mean impression of you. His hand finds your throat again and cuts off your airway, making dark spots dance in your vision. “Harder, Daddy, I need it so bad.” He releases your neck and wipes his thumb over the corner of your lip. He then pushes his thumb past your lips, eyes twinkling with malintent when you latch on and suck the digit. “I’m drooling because you’re fucking me so good, Daddy.”

Your muscles relax even further when his other thumb starts to slide in soothing motions over your clit. A loud moan forms around his thumb, leaking from you as your pussy gushes slick.

“My cockdrunk baby,” Trevor simpers. “Moan just like that for Daddy, let me hear it again.”

A strangled noise escapes you, feeling a well of pleasure rise in the pit of your stomach. It’s dangerously close to overflowing– one right thrust and Trevor will have you weeping, completely ruined and lost in your orgasm.

“So gone,” he whispers. You can hear him clearly over your moans, focused more on the timbre of his voice than the endless mewling that streams from your mouth. “Slutty little girl, whimpering each time I fuck into you. I told you, baby–”

You yelp when he swats your engorged clit, clenching down instinctively on his cock.

“–I want to hear you scream.”

[thesecretestblogever]

hi so i haven’t said anything in awhile but i still love ur blog and esp frat will stuff🥰🥰

but i’m currently in love with james hagens. the combine and draft content are feeding me. he’s so cute.

xo, 🍬anon 😊😊😊

OMG HI!!!!! Thanks for dropping in! To be fair, I haven't been as active, but hopefully when my life settles down I'll be able to write more!

I've been keeping an eye on the combine and draft content! It's all so interesting!! And he is a total cutie. Any player under like 20yo I'm like wow that's my son. I can't imagine making it into the NHL at 18, like my brain can't comprehend. It always makes me so emotional to see them achieve their life dream.

[thesecretestblogever]

Wyatt Johnston on the bench in Dallas

[thesecretestblogever]

A-Z Frat! Will

MDNI 18+ frat! Will below the cut :)

A - Aftercare

You’ve been dating since high school, so not only is aftercare a regular part of your routine, but also very important to you. It does depend on time and location though. If you’re alone for the night in his room, he’ll clean you up and you’ll cuddle naked, or take a shower together. If it’s somewhere less conventional like the closet, the golf course, or the bathroom, there’s not much you can do except deal with the sticky panties, but you’ll get a forehead kiss every time.

B - Body Part (Their/Yours)

Will is obsessed with your ass. He loves to grab it, smack it, dig his fingers into the ample flesh as his hips stutter into yours and he spills deep into you. It comes as no surprise later on when he asks to try anal and unsurprisingly loves it. 

C - Cum

Looooooovvessss to cum inside you or paint your face. There’s something about doing this that makes you really feel like his and his only. 

D - Dirty Secret

Will is not afraid to ask to try new things and you’re both always eager to find a new way to get each other off. There’s very few secrets between you. You’re a little curious about what a threesome would be like with another girl, but he’s always adamantly against it.

E - Experience

Frat! Will and Reader have been together since high school - your experience is completely and totally each other. You know the ins and outs of each other's bodies like they’re your own. The only other person who’s joined was once when you had a threesome with Eky. 

F - Favourite Position

He likes bending you over any surface - the counter of the kitchen or the bathroom, the bed, the golf cart. He can hold your hips and really pull you back onto him with each thrust. 

G - Goofy

Things are usually pretty serious when you’re having sex, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a good laugh if either of you stumble or do something awkward. 

H - Hair

He keeps it tame - light trims, but never a full shave. 

I - Intimacy

Will treasures you like you’re a bar of gold. Even if he’s getting lost in the feeling of you, he never forgets to kiss all over you, praise you with beautiful words and hold you close to his sweaty, naked body afterwards and let you know how good you did and how important you are to him. 

J - Jerk off

He’s a 20 year old frat boy, which means he’s jacking off anytime and anywhere he can. It doesn’t diminish his libido or thirst for you. He could have jacked off in the shower before you came over and he still wants to throw you down somewhere and fuck you brainless.

K - Kink

This boy loves exhibition and anal. Those are his two big ones. Those things set him on fire and the first time you tried anal, he came after a few pumps. He was extremely embarrassed, but you found it hot how much he loves your body and he made sure you were well taken care of after.

L - Location(Favourite places to do it)

You and Will have some sort of exhibitionist interest. The bed is a classic, but he’ll take you anywhere if it enters his mind, as long as there’s no actual threat of being caught. His parents’ hot tub was a game changer.

M - Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going)

Your connection is so deep, anything can set him off. Seeing you do the most mundane tasks make his mind wander. What you’re really good at though is testing him during parties. He’s not the most possessive or jealous guy, but you like to push his buttons. He knows you’re doing it every time too as you meet his gaze across the room as you lean in too close to another guy or touch his arm for too long. He knows what you’re doing, but it still works every time. 

N - No(Draw a line In the sand)

You tried a lot of things over the years, and found that you’re really not into hard BDSM. Will’s not opposed to some light spanking, slapping, or some choking, but he doesn’t like to cause too much pain. He’s much more into praising you and encouraging you when you’re fucking because it makes you melt into him. You also tried tying him up one time, and he hated how little control and participation he had. He likes both parties to be able to do what they want in a delicious push and pull. 

O - Oral

He’ll eat you out for as long as you’ll let him. One of his favorite places to be is between your legs. At this point, he has you memorized and knows exactly how to lick and suck on you to pull multiple orgasms from you in record time. You have to pull his hair and beg for him to let up when you’re twitching and whining with his mouth on you. He also loves blowjobs - ultimately, he'd rather be buried deep inside you, but seeing you on your knees, swallowing around him and looking up through your eyelashes causes a fire deep in his stomach. Sometimes, he has to deny you because he knows he’ll come too fast if you put your mouth on him. 

P - Pace

Will finds it hard to slow down when everything about you feels soooooo fucking good. He’s fast, hot, and hard and you have to remind him sometimes to warm you up. He always apologizes and tries to come back to himself and focus on you. 

Q - Quickie

Again, this boy will take you anywhere he can. You oscillate between long marathons of sweet love making or hard fucking, to a blowjob in the shower, or he distracts you while you’re making dinner and fucks you quick on the counter. Your jelly legs don’t make it easy to finish the meal afterwards.

R - Risk

Not afraid to push the boundaries. You got caught once in the closet at the practice rink, which meant he had a lot of privileges revoked for a few months. He likes to see just how far he can take it without getting caught. You were invited to a team dinner once, and his hand found its way into your panties under the table. It was hard to keep it together and eat your pasta. 

S- Stamina

Can go for hours and hours if you let him. There’s one night he’ll never let you live down when you came so many times you almost passed out, and he had to stop and grab you water and he held you, brushing the sweaty hair away from your face.

T - Toys

Will is extremely confident in his ability to make you come, but he’ll never say no to a little extra fun. You’re both adventurous and like to try everything, and that includes toys. When you discovered his love for anal, a plug became a normal part of your routine. 

U - Unfair(How much they like to tease)

RUDE. RUDE. RUDE. If he’s feeling evil, he’ll eat you out and work you up over and over again without letting you come. He likes when you beg for it, so he’ll suck on your clit until you’re right at the edge, grabbing at his hair before he stops completely. It’s almost painful as you cry out and your hips hump at nothing. When he finally lets you come, it’s blinding and he has to remind you to breathe. 

V- Volume (how loud they are or/what noise they make)

Will is loud and proud - he’s a talker and between moans and groans he makes sure to tell you how good your pussy feels.

“God, you’re so fucking soaked and still so tight,” he gasps. He feels consumed by you and cannot hold it in.

W - Wildcard (random head cannon)

Loves when you wear his clothes. He’ll fuck you in his varsity jacket, his hat, any of ther merch from the frat. Seeing you in nothing but the shirt with the greek letters of his frat on it makes him dumb. 

X - X-ray

Average length, but goddamn does he know how to use it. He knows exactly how to angle himself and thrust into you to hit the exact right spot that has you dissolving beneath him. 

Y - Yearning(how high is there sex drive)

Very. High. You can’t get enough of each other. You wonder how a full time student and hockey player has this much energy, but you’re not complaining. 

Z - ZZZ(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If you’re in bed, you always cuddle afterwards and talk about whatever. You’ll both drift off, eventually one of you not answering the other’s questions. Sometimes, Will will keep talking to you, even if he knows you’re asleep. He plays with your fingers that are intertwined with his and always kisses you before closing his own eyes.