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loslentesdepedrito · 10 months ago

Text

Paleta

Din gif by: @themandaloriansource My Masterlist

Pairing: Virgin!Din Djarin x f!reader (Both Din and reader speak Spanish, and translations are provided.)

Word count: 11.2k+

Summary: You and Din accept a job to extract a flower from a planet neither of you has been to before. The instructions seem easy enough, but they do warn to be careful with the flower's pollen because of its unknown effects. Inspired by the song Paleta by Wisin & Yandel ft. Daddy Yankee.

Rating: 18+ Explicit content (MDNI) Tags and CW: canon divergent, can be considered dubious consent due to sex pollen, Din is a virgin in all aspects, and reader is not, poor Din being horny since the beginning, slight angst, happy ending, reader is shorter than Din and is carried by him in one scene, mami kink?, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), some nipple play, multiple orgasms, creampie, facial, slight cum eating, shy Din then confident Din. To my knowledge, the Star Wars Universe doesn't have a purple planet, so I borrowed the Purple Dimension from Marvel Comics.

A/N: If you haven't had the chance yet, I beg you to check out the artwork by @immarocketman. This specific Din is exactly what I had envisioned for one of the scenes here. Their talent is remarkable, and I plan to explore more of their blog soon. Also, I mentioned that I was considering leaving and promised to provide an answer, but truth be told, I still haven't decided 😅. More on that in the end notes. For now, just sit back and enjoy the story!

In the passenger chair behind you, Din's voice, agitated and piercing, breaks the silence of the ship's quiet hum. "Can you stop sucking on that thing?" His patience has finally reached its limit, worn down by the seemingly endless hours of watching you indulge in that infuriatingly purple lollipop. He's been forced to watch, and his frustration grows with each smacking pop you make.

Seated in the pilot's chair, you remain unfazed. The tone of Din's voice doesn't intimidate you; if anything, it amuses you. With a nonchalant pop, you remove the candy from your mouth, emitting a deliberate sound that only seems to fuel Din's annoyance.

"No," you reply plainly, still refusing to meet his gaze. You slide the sweet back between your lips and continue navigating the ship.

In the aftermath of a recent encounter with a Rancor that left Din nursing an injury on his left side, he reluctantly handed over the piloting duties to you as you traveled to a planet named the Purple Dimension – the location for your next assignment. Clutched tightly in Din's hand was a holopuck, its contents holding crucial information regarding the upcoming bounty hunt.

As the ship coursed through space, Din's growing frustration took its toll on the holopuck. The round object seemed on the verge of shattering under the pressure of his grip. The puck contained a holographic image of the bounty—an exotic flower—its value measured in credits, along with instructions. The explicit instructions attached required the flower to be carefully extracted and returned unharmed, without its pollen, as it was thought that its pollen could contain a substance that might trigger an unknown reaction.

The substantial payoff stemmed from the fact that a botanist sought to study the flower beyond its native habitat, resorting to placing a bounty to facilitate this unconventional research, as the botanist was unable to travel to the planet where the flower exclusively thrived. The job was one of the most unusual ones you've had, but the reward led to you and Din accepting the job.

Your fingers, warmed by the prolonged contact with the ship's controls, grasp the handles. Four fingers curl around the black handles, while your thumbs press firmly on the top. Your focus stays fixed on the pitch-black expanse ahead, where the distant stars provide the only source of light. Absentmindedly, the lollipop remains in your mouth, licked without the need for your hands.

Abruptly, Din interjects, "It's going to give you cavities," he declares, his tone laden with frustration that transcends the mere mention of cavities—his concern sounding more like a personal grievance.

With casualness, you reply, not quite understanding the intensity of his objection, "I brush my teeth thrice a day."

Din persists, his annoyance evident. "It's going to leave your teeth stained."

Unbothered, you respond, "This one never does," as you continue to indulge in the sweet.

Din, seemingly pulling thoughts out of thin air, desperately tries to dissuade you from sucking that godforsaken candy. "Don’t you hate grape-flavored stuff?" he questions, grasping at any argument to put an end to the incessant sucking of the lollipop.

“It’s very berry-flavored. It tastes delicious; I wouldn’t keep sucking if I didn’t like it,” you calmly assert, savoring the flavor while Din, in a moment of quiet frustration, squeezes the puck once more to stifle a groan at the words ‘It tastes delicious, I wouldn’t keep sucking if I didn’t like it.'

“Just stop freaking sucking the lollipop!” Din suddenly roars, his composure slipping away.

“Who pissed on your breakfast today? Lower your voice, would you? The kid is sleeping,” you retort sharply, whipping your head behind to find Din’s metal helmet tipped back against the red cushion of his chair.

He grumbles.

“Why does my candy bother you?” you ask, shifting your attention back to the path ahead.

“Let’s switch,” Din says, getting up with a slight grit in his teeth that you don’t quite catch.

“You’re hurt,” you remind him, part stating the obvious and part expressing genuine concern.

“I'm better,” he insists, placing his hand right next to you on the control panel.

You gulp and, without uttering a word, rise from your seat, seamlessly swapping places with him. The front of the ship isn’t the most spacious, and when you and Din brush up against each other, a subtle electricity passes between you, and he feels himself crumble at the touch. If it weren’t for his entire body being covered in beskar, you would easily see the physical effect you have on him.

“It’s distracting,” Din mutters, attempting to mask and ignore his feelings once he's settled back into the pilot’s chair.

“Oh, just focus on the mission, tin man,” you roll your eyes at him.

Din sighs out in frustration, and his voice modulator emits a gruff tone. “For the thousandth time, my armor isn’t made out of tin-”

“It’s made from beskar,” you interject, mimicking him with a sly grin as you repeat the exact words.

He doesn’t appreciate your tone, and he turns to give you a hard look through his helmet’s T-visor. All Din can focus on, however, is the way your lips wrap around the round hard candy. It’s shiny, and he can hear the sucking and stickiness echoing in his helmet. He's been twitching and growing in his pants, desperately trying to wield away his arousal without resorting to adjusting himself or deep breaths. Fucking miss my codpiece, he thinks.

With an audible pop, you remove the lollipop from your mouth and extend it to Din. “Do you want some of my candy?”

“No,” he replies curtly.

“Then stop staring!” you retort, emphasizing the word 'staring'. “You’re so tense, Maker, you need to get laid.”

At your words, Din's hands jerk, and the ship plummets.

"Din!" you scream, your stomach churning as your heart lodges itself in your throat. The velocity of descent sends a surge of fear through your veins. One hand instinctively shoots out to grip the ship’s side, desperately seeking something to brace against, while the other clutches the child, keeping him from sliding off his seat.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Din mutters, skillfully lifting the ship back to its original height after the sudden drop.

As your heartbeat gradually regulates, you steal a glance at Grogu, finding him still peacefully asleep. You sense you hit a delicate spot with Din, prompting you to let go of the teasing for now.

Wanting to shift the conversation, you say, “I wonder why no one else took the job. It’s great pay for what seems like a relatively easy missio- I mean job.” The planet you're headed to isn't popular; people don’t say why, but not many choose to visit.

“You get the money and don’t question shit,” Din says even though he has the same question.

Choosing not to press further, you turn your attention to the window. Up ahead, there's a thin, straight brown light, expanding seemingly from the horizon and stretching into what appears to be an eternity.

“We’re going to pass through the barrier now,” Din announces. The brown light grows more pronounced as the ship steadily approaches.

You tighten your seatbelt, securing yourself further, and place a protective hand on Grogu. Din steers the spaceship forward, and the moment the ship makes contact with the barrier, it propels forward at a rapid speed.

The sensation makes your head a bit fuzzy, and when you open your eyes, you're mesmerized by the surreal sights. Before you, four massive planets come into view. Oddly, they all appear to be precisely the same size. Each possesses a unique hue: Red, Purple, Green, and Yellow, standing in perfect alignment against the vast backdrop of the black vacuum of space.

Din goes straight for the purple planet, and as you draw closer, you're granted a more detailed view. The Purple Dimension, unlike its counterparts, lacks a ring. Indentations mark its surface, and as you approach, bodies of water and stunning mountain ranges become visible. Din tilts the ship, guiding it into the planet's atmosphere. The moment the ship breaches the surface, sheer awe envelops you. The bodies of water below cast an ethereal glow with bioluminescence, and the entire landscape bathes in an even color due to the indigo-tinted sky.

While you try to absorb the beauty of your surroundings in the darkness, the ship lands on a plain, sending purple dirt flying with the impact.

Din flicks off some switches, and you unbuckle your seat belt. “What do we do with Grogu?” you ask, standing up.

“We take him.”

“Are you sure? I can go and retrieve the flower, and you stay here with the kid,” you suggest.

“No. We’ll all go,” he declares, leaving no room for argument.

“Okay then. You’ve got the tracking fob, right?”

He hums in confirmation and retrieves the holopuck, activating it to reveal a holograph. A large flower materializes, towering at least 8 inches minus its stem. Eight petals surround a prominent style, with smaller styles adorning the central one. The holograph lacks vivid color, displaying only muted hues of blue that make it a challenge to discern the flower's true colors from the image alone.

“The target is on the water,” Din informs, and as if on cue, the child wakes up. You both cast a quick glance at the child, who begins to coo and blink up at both of you. It's a familiar routine for Grogu; he knows when you both have jobs and patiently waits for one of you to leave so he can follow.

“It was explicitly stated that the flower needed to have its roots, so…,” you bend down to retrieve an item you purchased. Unbeknownst to you, Din's gaze lingers, tracing the contours of your form as you unfold a blanket from what seems to be a ceramic container. He tries to maintain composure, but he can't help the involuntary hitch in his breath, his eyes irresistibly drawn to you. You finally stand back up, and with a smile, you unveil a flower pot.

“La compré para plantar la flor por si acaso (I bought this to plant the flower just in case),” you say, the sincerity in your voice softening the edges of your teasing banter. The idea of the flower handing in the flower lifeless after your efforts is not an option.

Din, his gaze lingering on you, manages to tilt his head slightly and inquire, “¿Cuánto te costó?” (How much did it cost you?)"

“No mucho (not a lot),” you brush him off casually, heading towards the exit with the flowerpot cradled in your arms. There's no need to call for the little boy; he immediately follows you in his floating pram.

“Esta niña (this girl),” Din grumbles, hands on his waist, shaking his head. He gives himself a silent pep talk, repeating that he can't entertain certain thoughts about you. Wishing for just five minutes—hell, two minutes—to work himself and spill over his fist, so he could stop the relentless thoughts. The thoughts that have replayed in his mind throughout the entire journey persist, and he knows they'll linger, continuing to haunt him.

After a few deep breaths, Din speed walks to the exit, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the ship. He finds you and Grogu outside, with you carrying a bag over your shoulders, facing the water.

You're absorbed in the breathtaking sight, and it reinforces why you love your job as a bounty hunter. Yes, you deal with tracking down criminals, and yes, your renowned career is undeniably dangerous. But sights like this one make you believe it's worth it, plus traveling with Din and the baby is an added bonus. Grogu is an adorable kid, and Din is… Din.

You hear the Razor Crest's door closing and quickly capture a mental picture of the landscape. The ship lands on a purplish mountain range, not tall enough to obscure the view of the river below, yet sufficiently elevated. The sky, a dark shade of purple, accentuates the breathtaking brilliance of the stars. All the purple stretches out for miles, and even the majority of the forestation is painted in indigo hues. You turn your head by 90 degrees and are met with plum-colored plains stretching as far as the eye can see. Back to where the ship landed, there appears to be a beach, the sand's natural hue indeterminable against the sky's purple tint. However, the water is unmistakably translucent, a purplish-blue adorned with white sparkles, bioluminescent in nature. A few feet from the shore, a large forest comes into view, and hints of green seem to intermingle within the purple foliage. It's a strange sight, seeing such distinct biomes coexisting within a close distance, a landscape unlike any you've seen before.

“C’mon,” Din says, taking the lead. You and the child follow, catching up to his long strides. The ground beneath you feels somewhat familiar, similar to your home planet, yet you know better than to let your guard down. There's always a chance of something lurking, ready to trip you up, as you've learned the hard way before.

Silence envelops your trio until you reach the edge of the mountain. Grogu heads in a straight line, beginning a slow descent.

“Wait,” Din orders, making the first move to ensure the steps are secure before stretching out his gloved hand. You hesitate for a moment, apprehensive about making a fool of yourself at the slightest contact. Eventually, you wrap your fingers around Din’s hand, shivering at the unexpected warmth beneath his glove's black palm, contrasting with the cold yellow exterior. Din guides you as you land on the flat part of the mountain, offering a mix of instructions in a steady rhythm. “One foot in front of the other, watch your step, cuidado (careful),” he advises. This pattern continues as Din takes the lead, guiding your descent until you reach the base, where Grogu patiently waits.

Once you reach the sandy shore, you follow Din, who has the tracking fob out. He heads to the left, where many boulders create a makeshift wall. From the mountain's top, you had noticed the forest in that direction, just a few steps beyond the boulders and near the deeper part of the water. As you follow Din, you feel the temperature rising, and gradually, a wave of heat washes over you. The sun's intensity beats down, and warmth starts to cling uncomfortably to your skin.

Amidst the heat, a realization strikes you: you have something in your bag that could melt." Quickly unzipping the black bag, you retrieve a chocolate bar, its usual vibrant red wrapper transformed into a different hue by the planet's purple coloring. The word 'Tronky' is written in its original white letters, standing out against the altered shiny plastic. The wrapper displays an image of the candy, resembling a tree trunk with a few hazelnuts and a single leaf. The candy itself is thin, requiring only a few bites to finish.

Din, on high alert, hears a crinkle and turns to look behind. He's met with the sight of you biting into the wafer chocolate bar. As the hazelnut spread hits your tongue, you moan in delight. Din's boot gets stuck between a rock on the sand, and his body lurches forward. Before he can plummet to the ground, he manages to hold himself up with a large boulder. The wind blows his cape as he straightens up. Knowing better than to ask if he's okay, you pretend you didn't see and walk next to him, just in case he trips again. The crunch of the wafer blends in with the soothing sounds of waves crashing on the shore.

“Que rico (So good),” you mumble to yourself, throwing your head back.

Against his will, Din looks at you, captivated by all your features illuminated against the purple light. He plays with his cape, determined to focus on the tracking device to avoid crushing it. Din tries to ignore the sounds you think you’re hiding, silently praying you'll finish that chocolate bar soon. As the forest comes into view, he turns to tell you where to go. However, what he sees nearly has him stumbling again. You’ve finished the bar, and melted chocolate sits on your bottom lip.

“You’ve umm…” Din points at his own lips over his mask.

Confusion clouds your expression, and you stand there, looking bewildered. He points back at his helmet, “your…” he trails off. Still not understanding, you remain puzzled, and he puts the tracker in his pocket before stepping forward.

“Tienes chocolate en tu labio (you have chocolate on your lip),” he says in a low voice, placing one hand behind your head while using the other to touch your lips. You feel the soft and grainy texture of the leather against your skin, and you gasp, parting your lips. Din wipes off the chocolate in one smooth flick of his wrist. In that moment, he's thankful for his training, as it's the only reason he manages to slowly withdraw his hands, fighting the urge to put his finger inside your mouth.

Your brain short circuits, and you're only capable of whispering, “gracias (thank you.)"

Din nods his head and continues walking toward the forest. As you approach, you notice at the edge there's a large flower.

“Hey, is that what we’re looking for?” you say excitedly, pointing to the glowing flower that stands out.

Both of you pick up the pace and eventually reach it. There's no need to delve into the forest since the plant is a good two feet away from the trees, near the shoreline.

“Magellanica sinensis,” Din says, identifying the flower.

“Wow,” you exclaim in amazement as you gaze at the flower. “Wow,” you exclaim in amazement as you gaze at the flower. It's an exact replica of what's on the holopuck. In person, the eight big petals' exterior is a deep shade of purple. When you look closely, the inside of the flower displays a lighter color—you guess it's pink. As you observe, specs on the petals of different sizes become apparent, and you can't help but admire the dark veins running through the petals, resembling ink spilled and delicately bleeding through the vibrant hues of purple. You also notice seven stamens with equally spaced, fluffy anthers forming a circle. Similar to a hibiscus flower, this plant has one tall pistil. You inhale deeply as the pleasant aroma that makes you think of apples hits your nose when you lean closer. The water surrounding the plant captivates you as well. You feel an undeniable impulse to step into the water, but Din's voice pulls you away from that tempting idea.

“You brought the tools?”

“Yes,” you affirm, scrambling to take them out of your bag. Kneeling on the lilac-purple sand, you retrieve the gardening tools: a shovel, a large hand rake, and gloves. As they lay before you, you glance up at Din, finding him looking down at you, illuminated by the soft purple glow. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s so beautiful.

Little do you know, Din is thinking the same thing about you. There you are on your knees, looking up at him, and he can't help but imagine you in that same position in a different scenario. It's what he thought about last night in his room, tugging and tugging at himself, spilling on his sheets. Every time he succumbs to such desires, a pit of guilt and shame envelops him—just like now, snapping him back to reality.

“Please gather soil in the pot, and I'll remove the plant from the ground,” Din instructs, an unusual 'please' slipping from his lips. You nod, and he hands you the rake while he takes the shovel. Not bothering to get up, you crawl a little to the right, away from the flower, and start scooping soil onto the orange pot, careful not to disturb any loose leaves. As you work, a good layer of soil forms on the ceramic, creating a small pile ready for Din once he puts the flower inside.

He asks for the recipient, and you swiftly hand it to him. Watching attentively, you see him gently add the glowing plant to the flowerpot. The roots are surprisingly long, and you're thankful you opted for an extra-large pot. Your intuition about the flower's size was right—it's almost the size of your head, and the roots add even more height.

“Pásame la tierra,” Din requests, looking at the plant and realizing it needs more soil to cover the roots. You comply, handing him more soil while he reminds you to keep your distance since the obvious powder over the petals still needs to be cleaned.

“It’s getting too dark; I’ll take it back, and you take the child to his room. I'll clean the flower before we depart,” Din decides, prioritizing your safety and the kid's.

You collect the tools, put them back in your bag, and finally get up.

“You and the kid go first,” he insists, leaving no room for argument.

After walking back past the boulders and climbing the mountain, you take Grogu to his room, tucking him into bed. A smile creeps onto your face as you recall shopping with Din and his stress about finding the best mattress. You lost count of how many vendors assumed you and Din were parents to the same child, making references to you as his wife. Din was glad he never took off his mask in front of others, as he got flustered every time someone made that assumption.

With the baby quickly asleep, you quietly make your way back down to see what's taking Din so long.

You're walking down the dock when you hear Din cuss.

“Are you okay?” you ask, alarmed at the possibility that he might have hurt himself while carrying the heavy pot.

“Yeah, I just hurt my side, and it’s still tender,” Din grits through his teeth, aware that he can't hide the truth from you; you'd see right through any lie.

“Come here,” you beckon, but it’s you who walks to him. You guide him to sit on a bench and position yourself between his knees. Din avoids meeting your gaze, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sensing his discomfort, you ask, “Do you think it’s bruised?” You notice that before you arrived, he had peeled off a small part of his body stocking over his side.

You catch a glimpse of his exposed skin, only the second time you've seen it—the first being when he took off his gloves while you were injured and bleeding out two months ago.

“Can I touch you?” you whisper.

Din can't handle the question, especially with the way you're looking up at him. His arm jerks over the bench. He feels the flower pot and, through his cloudy and hazy mind, briefly remembers he placed the flower there. But it's too late; he accidentally knocks it over, and it plummets onto the ship’s floor.

The pot shatters, and you're both engulfed in a cloud of yellow dust. Shocked, you gasp and inadvertently inhale the powder. Violent coughs rack your body, and you close your eyes to shield them from the unknown substance. The powder doesn’t relent; it keeps engulfing you, and your throat constricts. Uncomfortable sensations intensify and your senses heighten. The thumping of your heartbeat becomes almost deafening, and you scramble to get up.

Din, shielded by his suit, doesn’t feel the same effects, but he sees your struggle and panics. All of his instincts are screaming to do something and in a desperate move, he takes off his helmet with an audible hiss. The powder rushes toward his nostrils, and he can't prevent inhaling it. Quickly, he lifts it off his head and rushes to place it over yours. You feel a cold metal sensation over your head, and your vision darkens. Confused, you raise your hands to your head, realizing Din's helmet is now covering you. The powder is less potent with the beskar helmet, but since you lack the full armor, some dust still infiltrates your system. Amidst the odd sensations and confusion, one emotion surges to the forefront: desire.

Knowing Din's helmet is over your head, you suddenly realize his face is exposed. Though tempted to open your eyes, you resist, knowing his creed means everything to him. You actively fight against yourself to keep your eyes shut.

Now, it's Din who is the most exposed. He holds his breath to avoid inhaling the substance, but he quickly discovers that not breathing only intensifies the burning sensation in his throat, forcing him to open up his breathing—what the powder wants.

Din can't endure it any longer. He takes you by the hand and pulls you urgently, all his instincts urging him to claim you as his own. As he guides you to his room to escape the relentless pollen, he can feel himself growing harder with each step.

The slightest friction from his suit elicits a sigh of relief. You hear him, and it causes the dampness between your thighs to intensify. Both of you, eyes still closed, manage to reach Din’s room.

He pushes you inside and closes the door. For a fleeting moment, he questions whether keeping you in the same confined space as him was a mistake. Then, he hears your sweet voice.

“Din, it hurts,” you say, on the verge of tears.

“What hurts, cyar'ika?” he questions, feeling a pain of his own. He recognizes the ache he's experiencing—a longing that hurts, the pain of not being able to reach you, entwine his body with yours. He wonders if the powder is affecting his virgin ass differently.

“I-” The words catch in your throat, and with eyes shut, you sit down on Din’s mattress. It's so soft, and the scent of him surrounds you. With trembling hands, you lift the helmet off your head. “I just… I feel like my body hurts,” you reply vaguely.

“Where?” He rasps, eyes flying open as he sees you lying down and squirming on his bed. His resolve crumbles, and he has to physically restrain himself against the wall to resist walking toward you.

“Uhh,” you breathe, the sound morphing into a moan. “Between my thighs,” you admit, unable to lie. Your entire focus is consumed by the desperate need to touch yourself, to feel Din's touch.

“Din,” you whine, and the plea only makes him clench his fists, fighting the urge to go to you. “You should leave.”

“Can’t leave you alone,” Din chokes out, his gaze fixed on you as you start unbuttoning your pants.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeat, your hand finding its way down to your core. Despite any potential embarrassment, the overwhelming sensation induced by the pollen outweighs everything. With Din in the room, you can't resist the burning desire.

As your hand slides underneath the soft fabric of your panties, instant relief washes over you. Rubbing circles over your clit, you thrash on Din’s bed, succumbing to the frenzy of desire that the pollen has ignited.

Din can’t bring himself to close his eyes. A little voice demands him to keep his eyes open and to touch you. He hears your whines, and he feels his body temperature rise. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he bites the leather, tasting its texture briefly. He doesn’t dwell on it too long; he rips his head away, and the glove dangles between his teeth. Frantically, he repeats this for the other hand. Now, his hands and head are bare. Din's gaze is on you again, and he sees that now you’ve got your entire hand between your thighs. A strangled noise escapes his throat, and you keep moaning, causing sweat to bead on Din’s forehead without any physical exertion.

With your eyes still closed, you don’t know what Din is doing. Following your instincts, you have your entire hand between your thighs, your index and middle fingers delving deep, while your thumb works on your pearl. Wet squelching sounds, along with your moans, fill the room.

“So wet,” you mutter unconsciously. It’s true; you have so much slick that it’s dripped onto your underwear, feeling uncomfortably wet.

“‘M so-oh!-sorry.” Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as the relentless effect of the substance refuses to subside. Frustration mounts with each attempt, as you’ve tried every flicker on your pearled nub that would usually get you to your climax at this point, but nothing.

You huff and slide your free hand underneath your black shirt. When your hand makes contact with the bare skin, goosebumps erupt across your body. The scalding warmth of your hand travels to your right breast, and as your fingertips hit the smooth fabric of your plain black bra, you bend the cup to reach your nipple. It's pebbled and sensitive to the touch. You hiss but find some pleasure when you roll it between your thumb and index digits.

“Din, I’m so sorry. I can’t stop,” you confess, apology evident in your tone as you work both hands in a feverish attempt to reach your peak. Feeling it build and build, it doesn’t come. Mortified by the silence you think, I’ve made him uncomfortable; he’s going to hate me and kick me o-

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he pants, and amidst the haze of desire, you hear the distinct clatter of metal hitting the floor.

“Din? ¿Qué estás haciendo? (What are you doing?)” you ask, not panicked by the idea of him being naked, but rather concerned that the drug might be compelling him into actions he doesn't want to take. You can say with full confidence that you’ve certainly entertained fantasies involving Din, though not this exact scenario, but the thought of him touching himself has fueled countless fantasies that ended in a mess on your bedsheets while you stifled your own cries with your hand.

Your curiosity battles with respect for his privacy; you so badly want to open your eyes and see him, but you know he's never allowed you to see him before. You won't risk making things worse by breaching that boundary.

“Din?” you ask again.

“Uhh,” comes his broken moan. “Cyar'ika- ahh,” he pants, “p-perdóname, perdóname (forgive me, forgive me),” he utters apologies, and your heightened hearing sharpens. The wet sounds of skin against skin reach your ears, and your heart rate spikes as you realize what he's doing – fisting his dick between his hands.

When the realization crosses your mind, you sit up suddenly. Din takes in your disheveled state – hair tousled, chest heaving, pants unbuttoned and unzipped. He's scared that he might have crossed a line and spooked you. But in your mind, it's quite the opposite. You feel the need to go to your own room; if you stay with Din, you'll break.

“I should go to my quarters,” you say, attempting to get leave. However, you take two steps and stumble.

“No, please. I… I need you,” Din pleads. He's terrified of what this situation means for him, yet he can't bear the thought of you leaving.

“Din, I don’t know what I’ll do if I stay,” you confess. Conversations about your sexual lives have remained nonexistent, as any attempt to bring up the topic with Din has been met with him tensing up.

“Tell me if you want me to take you to my bed. If not, I’ll leave, I promise,” Din says sincerely.

Your mind spins at the thought of finally being with Din, but then, logistical concerns invade your thoughts. You bring your palms over your eyes, ready to shield them just in case you open them involuntarily.

“You don’t have your helmet,” you point out.

“I want you to see me,” he says, and you hear him walking over to you. He gently touches your hands, slowly prying them away. You can feel the heat radiating from both of you, your bodies near boiling. Even though your eyelids are closed, you sense a soft blue light hitting your eyes.

“Mírame (Look at me),” Din whispers.

"Din, your creed… it means everything to you," you murmur with your eyes shut, your concern and care evident in your voice, not wanting him to sacrifice a fundamental part of himself.

He lifts his gaze, and in the soft glow of the room’s blue lights, his eyes speak volumes. "It’s not my creed that means everything to me. It’s you.” He's more than just a Mandalorian at that moment; he’s a man longing to share a part of himself with someone who understands—someone who means more to him than any set of rules or traditions ever could. He’s a man eager to bare every fiber of his being in a way he has never done before to the woman who holds the key to his heart.

"Din," you whisper, your voice carrying a subtle tremor of emotion. The weight of his admission washes over you like a gentle wave, a profound realization of the depth of his feelings. Your heart skips a beat, and a cascade of butterflies takes flight in your stomach as you grasp the tenderness of his words. As it dawns on you that he's opening up, willing to share this intimate part of himself that he's guarded so fiercely, it feels like he has unlocked a door to a chamber of his heart that few have entered. You find yourself standing on the threshold, touched by the privilege of being allowed in.

Your eyes flutter open, and a rush of emotions floods your heart as you see him for the first time. He's older than you, his black hair carrying beads of sweat on his temples. His eyes, a captivating shade of brown, reflect your own gaze back at you. You're drawn to the aquiline nose that gives his face character, and you have a fleeting desire to trace its pattern with your finger. His lips, the lower one slightly plusher, hold a subtle pout, and above them, a well-groomed mustache adds a touch of rugged charm. Stubble decorates his strong jaw, and you notice patches of bare skin, hinting at his inability to grow a full beard – a delightful detail you can't wait to tease him about later.

As you take in the sight before you, Din notices your expression but struggles to decipher it. Your parted lips and tear-filled eyes stir a fear within him, a nagging doubt that he's made a grave mistake. She hates what she sees. This was a mistake. I never should have told her-

"You're so beautiful, Din," the words flow from your lips in a breathy whisper as you tenderly caress his face. His rugged features soften under your touch, but in the midst of this beautiful moment, an involuntary twitch stirs within him.

In the corner of your eye, you catch the movement and let your gaze fall to his lower half. A gasp passes through your lips as you take in the full extent of him. Din, however, misinterprets your reaction, and he finds himself entangled in self-deprecating thoughts. Insecurity gnaws at him as he wonders, Maybe she's seen better. Am I not big enough?

A sudden impulse takes over, and before you realize it, you find yourself on your knees, looking up at Din with blown pupils. The groan that escapes from deep within his lungs is a mix of surprise, desire, and fulfillment. His mind races with the realization that his once-confined dirty dreams are now becoming a reality. A fleeting question crosses his mind: Should I tell her?

"Can I?" you ask, your eyes fixated on his erection, your mouth watering. "Can I touch you?" You clarify.

"Yes, please," he responds, his heavy-lidded eyes looking down at you intently.

Taking a moment to admire Din, you notice the trimmed patch of dark hair leading to his belly button. His thickness is accentuated by veins running along, but your focus zeroes in on a prominent blue vein down the middle, forking at the end. He's cut, and whether it's the blue light or the effect of the powder, you notice a purple hue at the tip, where he's leaking pre-cum. From above you, Din pleads for you to do something.

You oblige, and you take him into your hands, smearing the liquid down to his base. There's an abundance, allowing you to thoroughly coat him. At your touch, Din's head falls backward, and his thighs tremble under the intensity of having another person’s hand on him for the first time.

"Uhn," he breathes out at the sensation of your warm hands enveloping him in a tight grip. Your fingers struggle to wrap fully around his thick length, Oh, he doesn’t fit in my hand, you realize. Adjusting quickly, you bring your left hand to join, both hands working together as they move up and down, utilizing his pre-cum as natural lubrication. Mindful not to cause any discomfort, you bring your mouth closer, preparing to add saliva to further coat him.

"Umm… I've never done this before," Din confesses in a tone you almost miss.

His words cause you to pause, confusion evident on your face as you squirm on your knees. The yellow dust in your bloodstream seems to intensify your need for him by a million.

"Handjob?"

Din appears panicky, realizing he admitted to something he wasn't sure how you would react to. There's no taking the words back, and he opts for honesty. "Everything," he confesses, looking away from you.

It takes a while for you to process his admission. "Oh!” He's a virgin?

Din exhales, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "I just killed the mood, didn’t I?"

"No, no, no, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Really, I'm just shocked. It’s just, it’s you. You’re so beautiful. I mean, I was, um, attracted to you when I met you. I wouldn’t have guessed.” Your voice turns into a hushed whisper. "Although things make sense now.” You tap on his side to make him look down at you. "I’m sorry for assuming," you say, fully honest and apologetic, and then get up.

He looks at you with eyes filled with shame and embarrassment.

"Come here," you say with a reassuring smile and slowly guide him backward until the back of his legs are touching the bed. You raise your hands, place them on his shoulders, and gently press down. Now with Din seated, you kneel once more.

Your eyes can’t help but be pulled to his glistening dick. "Do you want this? Are you sure it's not just the powder? Because I feel it too," you pause, exhaling as the ache in your cunt intensifies. "But I need you to want this with me. It's okay if you don't. We can do other stuff until the effects wear off."

"I do, I do want you," Din nods desperately.

You can sense the sincerity in his words, and the mutual need between you two becomes increasingly difficult to resist. Knowing you can't delay both of your desires any longer, you lower your head slightly and purse your lips. Once you feel a decent stream of saliva accumulate in your mouth, you spit on Din's cock.

"Uh, fuck," he moans in a pained voice. The sight of you spitting on him triggers primal feelings within him, desires he never realized he had until this moment. Now that he's seen it, he knows he wants you to repeat it, as long as you're willing. The urge to tell you to do it again is strong, but when he sees you opening your mouth and guiding his cock into it, coherent thoughts are replaced with pure gibberish.

His head breaches your lips, and the immediate warmth that surrounds his length is otherworldly. "Oh, oh," Din chants, the sensation feeling entirely foreign but undeniably pleasurable as your tongue dances along his sensitive tip.

Sitting back on your knees, you take a moment to admire the man before you. Din throws his head back in pleasure, but as soon as he realizes he can't see you, he quickly brings it forward to look down at you. Despite his best efforts to keep his eyes on you, they occasionally flutter close. Each time they do, he pries them open, forcing them back open, but against his will, they shut again.

He must feel overwhelmed, you think. You want to take it slow, build up to it, but the drug-like substance won't allow for such restraint.

Din opens and closes his mouth, clearly wanting to speak. "You can say it," you encourage him, though your words come out muffled. You peer at him through your eyelashes, continuing to suck.

"It- ah… feels good. You make me feel good."

"Oh, Din, good boy," you praise in your head, his words causing everything in you to flutter, making you more determined to bring him even more pleasure. To reward him, you take a deep breath through your nose, attempting to relax your throat. Once you feel sufficiently relaxed, your hands find Din's hips, careful not to press on the red-blue bruise on his left side. Gripping him firmly with both hands, you rise on your knees, sitting taller, and push your mouth against him in one swift motion.

Din jolts, sitting down abruptly, and “Nngh,” a strangled growl escapes him at the sudden sensation of having his entire dick shoved down your throat. His breathing intensifies, unsure of what to do with his hands. He resorts to gripping his sheets, and sweat begins to dampen his hair, falling onto his forehead.

Maintaining him in the depths of your throat for a few moments, you try your best to stifle any urge to gag. As you begin to pull away, Din lets out incoherent mumbles.

Your fingertips ghost over his injury, then press gently, eliciting a broken groan. "Does your side hurt?" you ask, retreating your fingers.

Din felt a surge of desire when you pressed on his bruise. Though he's embarrassed to admit yet another thing, considering how you tried to hold back for him, he decides to be honest with you. "A little, but… I like it.”

“Oh?” you say, surprised. “Well, we'll explore that next time,” you tell him, quite excited to discover more about what makes him reel.

You remove your hand from his left side and bring it to his shaft. Your fingers sprawl across the thickness, and Din feels them move over his veins. The sensitivity makes him pant out, “Yes, yes, yes.”

With his dick pointing up, you bring your head to the level of his pecs and envelop his tip with your lips. “Oh, fuck, ohh,” he grunts, then loses control of his hands, and his elbows give out. Stumbling backward, his back hits the mattress.

“Din!” you gasp in concern, but your words come out incoherent since you still have him in your mouth. Before you can rise on your legs and lean over to check if he’s okay, he sits back up, his stomach moving. Observing the way the slight roundness of his stomach jumps, you find it attractive and groan into him.

“Ah,” he says, mouth dropping and eyes fluttering.

You relish the effect you have on him, bobbing your head over the tip repeatedly. Instead of going further, you focus on licking his slit every once in a while, savoring the pre-cum that's leaking onto your fist.

While he's a mess above you, Din is captivated by the color and shape of your lips. Her lips… over me… it’s, uh, so good.

Desiring some friction, you rock your hips, though it's to no avail. You whine into him, the vibrations causing Din to groan. Shit, shit, shit, he pants in his head as the heat in his stomach snaps.

Feeling him pulse in your mouth, and judging by his sounds, you know he’s about to cum. Your slick sticks to the inside of your pants at the thought of swallowing his load. Din frantically tries to warn you to get off, “Cum! I’m- ahh,” you don’t let up; you just increase your pace. In the blink of an eye, hot, salty liquid explodes in your mouth. You try to take as much as you can, but you can’t swallow everything fast enough. Gulp after gulp, there’s more, and it spills from your lips onto your right hand that’s wrapped around his base, even landing on the dark patch of hair on his pubic area.

“Oh, fuck,” Din moans, drawing out the K, his hips unconsciously raising ever so lightly, rocking more of him into your mouth.

Once his high subsides, you remove yourself from him and rise from your knees to touch his face, looking to the side. “Din,” you call, and since he doesn’t move his head, you shift to the side of the bed to be face-to-face with him. Your heart breaks when you see his coffee eyes brimming with tears.

“Baby,” you say softly, and it prompts Din's tears to fall. “Why are you crying?” you question gently.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “dank farrik, I’m so pathetic,” Din shakes his head.

“You’re not pathetic, Din,” you assure him.

He inhales sharply. “It’s just that this is the first time… the first time I’ve, um, orgasmed from the hands of another person. For so long, I could never do anything because I was taught it was wrong. I even felt guilty the first time I touched myself, and I just can’t help but feel like I’ve committed some big transgression.”

For a moment, you're stumped. You want to comfort him but are unsure if you'll make things worse while he’s vulnerable.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” you decide to say. You sit next to him, mindful not to touch him. “I hate that you feel like that. Because what we did shouldn’t make you feel bad. We’re two consenting adults—well, as much as we can think straight because of that weird pollen,” you say, and Din laughs, making you smile. You continue, “Single adults. You shouldn’t feel guilty, Din; it’s natural. We can stop if you want. I won’t think any less of you, I promise,” you bring a hand to your chest and make an X over your heart.

"I still want to continue," he says, reaching for your hand. "I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but everyone has always instilled this belief in me. It feels good hearing from someone else that I shouldn’t feel guilty."

"Okay, baby," you tell him. "What do you want to do next?" You want to make sure the ball is in his court and that you’re not guided by the drug in your system.

"Well, I’m still hard," he says, and you look down to see that, indeed, it's true.

"Oh, wow. I’d take that as a compliment, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of the flower.”

"I want to do something for you now," Din says, rising to his feet and pushing you to lay down on the soft mattress. You instinctively part your legs, and he's the one on his knees now, playing with the unbuttoned button. "May I?" he asks in the sweetest voice.

You lift your hips, and Din hooks his fingers on the waistband of your pants. He begins to slide them down quite fast, leaving you in your panties. Maker, I can see through her underwear, Din mutters in his head, melting at the sight.

"Your thighs, they’re all wet," he comments out loud.

You giggle and cross your hands at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. "That’s all ‘cause of you, baby," you say in a sultry voice as you unhook your bra and throw it behind you.

Din loses his train of thought when he sees your exposed chest. He stares, mouth agape.

“They’re so…pretty,” he says, mesmerized and blushing. Suddenly, he begins to paw at your panties, rips them off you, and hooks your legs over his shoulders with ease.

You gasp in shock, and it turns to a whine when Din dips his head between your parted thighs, licking an experimental stripe from your tight hole up to your clit. “Ah! D-Din!” you sit up a bit and tangle your hands in his black curls. He groans into you, driven by pure instinct and fragments of recollection from what he had heard when he was working by himself. Attempting to recall bits he had gathered here and there from conversations in bars.

He laps at your juices, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive points, closing his eyes, fully enjoying the taste, moaning out so lovingly almost as though he was the one receiving pleasure. Shit, Din growled in his mind, she tastes so good. You were a moaning mess above him. He was a little sloppy, but his eagerness and hot tongue more than made up for it.

“Mmm…You’re doing great. Just here,” you say and tell him how to touch your clit. After a few words of guidance, Din has it wrapped around his lips.

“Ohhh!” you yelp and rut your hips against his mouth as he sucks your bundle of nerves. His eyes shut in sheer pleasure, the sultry sounds of your moans fueling his desire. You are surprisingly close, and your entire body is covered with a sheer layer of sweat. Your arms and abdomen tire, and you lay down. You raise your head a little, just enough to see Din use his tongue against your pearled nub and bring one hand from your hip to your thighs. You watch in excitement as he lets go of your right leg over his shoulder and flips his wrist on his ventral side. Very gently, he takes his index and middle finger and presses them against your entrance.

"Is this okay?" he rasps, pushing more of his fingers into your slick warmth.

You nod your head fervently, loving the way his thick fingers stretch you open. “Mm… I love your fingers," you gasp. "So good- they feel so good."

Din thrusts his fingers deeper, feeling your warm, wet walls clench around him already, feeling you sucking him in further.

"You're getting wetter," he observes, his voice a low growl, not expecting a response.

"Th-that's ‘cus you're," you pause to huff, "making me feel so much pleasur- ah!" you scream when he presses against your sweet spot and you continue to tell him he's doing a good job. "You can try opening and closing your fingers," you suggest.

He scissors his fingers and unexpectedly wraps his lips around your sensitive bud, sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

You moan and writhe, lost in the pleasure he’s providing. "Your mouth, Din! Oh, Maker- fuck!" The words tumble from your lips, a symphony of desire, as your body quivers with impending release. "Din!" His name escapes your lips in a sharp, forced breath as you shatter into blissful climax.

In the depths of his mind, Din revels in the satisfaction of making you cum. The only twinge of regret is that he couldn't witness the ecstasy on your face, still occupied with his fingers buried inside you, working with his tongue on your swollen bud. He’s panting and you tell him to come up. Unaware of your plea, he continues his fervent attention, his fingers and tongue working together. You tug at his hair, urging him to rise. When he lets up, he slowly withdraws his digits and relishes the gasp you elicit.

Face to face with you, like a sculptor admiring his masterpiece, he adores the way your hair sticks to your forehead, and your expression is drenched in post-orgasmic bliss.

"Kiss," you command, pulling him closer, lips hungry for him.

He complies, and the moment his lips meet yours, it feels like a burst of lightning goes off in his head. His heart leaps wildly in his chest, and inside your stomach, a flurry of butterflies suddenly and furiously takes flight. A low groan escapes him when your tongues meet.

The air seems to dissipate in his lungs, and reluctantly, he tears his mouth away. Panting, his forehead touches yours as he confesses, "I've never tasted myself before."

"Do you like it?"

"From your lips? Yes," he admits, a shy tone lingering in his voice.

You've decided you like making him blush, so you lean in and whisper into his ear, "Maybe you'll like it even more when you're licking it from my pussy."

A low groan escapes Din, and he pushes you back into the mattress. Catching your mouth, the first kiss you shared had been softer and hesitant, but this one is all-consuming. He pours every pent-up feeling he's harbored for you into the searing kiss. You feel his hard length pressing against your hip, prompting you to break the kiss and spread your legs as far as you can with Din hovering above you.

"Are you ready, baby?" you ask Din, running your fingers along the contours of his face.

Not trusting his words, he nods, his eyes filled with a hunger matching yours.

“We should stay in this position so you can control the movement," you suggest, still feeling the lingering effects of the flower, though now slightly subdued after Din made you cum.

“Are we okay to um…” Din hesitates, not knowing how to initiate the conversation about protection.

“I’ve got an implant, oh, and you can come inside if you want.”

Din looks down at you, a near-helpless expression on his face. You wrap one leg around his waist, and he grips himself in his hand. His breathing hitches as he guides himself to your entrance. You notice some hesitance in his eyes, so you lift your head to kiss his nose and whisper that it's okay.

Din presses his tip inside you and lowers his entire body to yours, careful not to crush you. His mouth seeks yours to muffle the noises he's sure will escape his lips any second now. Ohh, Maker. How does she f-feel this good? Din asks himself, unable to believe that such pleasure exists. Of course, I can only find it in her, he concludes.

Meanwhile, you feel your body temperature rising. He's unbelievably girthy, and you feel all of his veins and ridges as your body molds to his. Din presses his knees on the mattress and thrusts more of himself into you. Your breath is stolen from your lungs when your body works overtime to open up. Din felt you tense and muttered apologies after apologies, but you reassured him that you were okay; it was just taking you a while to fully take him. He stilled and slowly withdrew himself as much as he could. Your body was not letting him go, and he was only giving you less than half of his cock to open you up. When you begged him for more, he complied, and he pushed more of himself faster this time. You spread your legs wider, and when he bottomed out, "Ah! Uhn…Di-Din!" you cried, and your eyes shut closed, overwhelmed.

“Hah– fuck,” Din spat out, hips suddenly stuttering, feeling your soft, velvety walls tightening. No, no, not yet, Din scolds himself. He grits his teeth and stops moving to get himself to calm down.

When he stops pounding you, you close your legs around him, making you tighter.

"B-baby, don't do that," Din chokes.

You open your eyes and see that he's looking at you intently, so you spread your legs apart once more. When they touch the mattress, Din pulls out, leaving just his head in, and quickly thrusts himself back into your pussy.

In response, you squeal and claw at his back. That seems to give him more motivation, and he continues to brutally take you. The room is filled with the sounds of wet squelching noises, moans, grunts, you calling out his name, him calling out yours, and skin slapping skin as his balls repeatedly hit against your cunt.

With the ferocity he's taking you, he sees your breasts bouncing, and he can't resist lowering his head to catch a nipple in his mouth. His hot tongue is flickering over your pearled bud, and you tell him, "Bite- uhn- bite it gently and… and then run your tongue against it.

Din follows your command eagerly. As he ruts his hips against yours with unrestrained fervor, his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your nipple, biting gently before his tongue dances over the aroused bud. The initial pain transforms into a pleasurable sensation, prompting you to wrap both legs around his hips, meeting his wild thrusts. As the crown of his head brushes against the deepest part of you, you can't help but wail.

"Oh!" you moan, feeling your body shudder as the tension in your stomach reaches its peak. Clinging to Din, in a matter of seconds, waves of pleasure cascade through you, and a steady stream of liquid pours out, covering both your thighs, his abdomen, and the bedsheets. Simultaneously, Din cries out your name, his hips losing their rhythm as he feels you clenching around him like a vice. You feel him pulsing, and immediately after, he spills. Rope after rope, he fills you up with his warm seed. His body collapses on top of yours, and for a moment, his vision blacks out. His hands rest next to your head, and he moves his head to mumble incoherent nonsense directly into your ear.

Both of you catch your breath, and you soothingly run your hand up and down Din's back. He responds with tender kisses on your forehead before raising his head.

"Thank you," he pants, his breath still ragged, and quickly adds, "Was that okay for you?"

You laugh lightly. "You made me squirt."

"Oh," he blushes, "It's probably due to the flower."

"Maybe… I mean, it's never happened with someone else and certainly not this much by myself.”

Your mind is still hazy, and you don't hear his response. "I wish you'd cum on my face," you say, not mindful of your words. Then you feel him twitch inside you. You gasp and ask him, "Din, are you still hard?"

He doesn't reply; he just looks down sheepishly at where you and him are connected.

A mischievous smile plays on your lips. "Can we try something?"

He brings his gaze back up and nods. You untangle your legs from him and bring your arms to slowly push him off you.

He gets the message and slowly pulls out of you, causing both of you to groan at the loss. Once he's no longer inside you, you sit up and ask him to get off the bed. Without an explanation, he's confused but does what you ask.

You scoot up to the edge of the bed and then get on all fours in front of him. "I want you to fuck my face."

Din's mouth parts into an 'o' as you take his hardened length into your hand, guiding him between your lips. When you taste yourself on him, you moan, and so does he. He feels heavy against your tongue, and the sounds coming from him are heavenly.

You pull back to tell him, "If you don't like something, let me know." Then, you begin to take him deeper until you reach the thickest part of him.

"You-" he begins but stays quiet. Does he want to say something? you question in your head but go back to moving your head at a steady rhythm. Very lightly, you scrape your teeth carefully to avoid biting him or drawing blood. At the sensation, Din bucks his hips forward, and he whines. Again, he sounds like he wants to talk but decides against it. You want to hear whatever he needs, so reluctantly, you pull back but keep stroking him in your hand.

"¿Por qué no me quieres decir lo que quieres? (Why don't you tell me what you want to say?)" you ask, looking at him through your lashes.

"I-" he groans when you use your thumb to circle the slit at his tip, "'M not good at the dirty talk."

"Say whatever comes to mind. You won't scare me off," you promise, and then envelop him in your mouth once more. To get him more comfortable with showing him you can handle him being rough, you take one of his hands that are awkwardly at his side and bring it to the back of your head. His large hand sprawls like he's holding a small ball, and experimentally he moves your head closer to him, making you move further on his length. He hears you struggle and is about to remove his hand in fear, but you raise your hand to hold his in place. You relax your throat and slightly move your head further, then let your hand drop. Din understands and begins to guide you to take him deeper. Feeling your hot mouth wrapped around him was causing him to spew curse after curse, still not confident enough to say what he so desperately wanted. Take her, Din. Rómpele el cerebro con maldad. She wants you to be rough with her. But if you don't want her, another man would certainly happily take her off your hands and make good use of her mou- and just like that a switch flipped in Din.

"Is this what you want, Cyar'ika?" he asks and then in one go, presses your face into his pelvic area. Thankfully, your throat had already been opened up by the time you silently asked, more like begged, for him to fuck your face so it wasn't too painful to take him down your lower throat suddenly.

"Mhm," you whine, and you do everything you can to stimulate a nod.

"Good, baby," he answers, and in an animalistic pace, he thrusts his hips over and over. Your eyes water, but you love it. You love the way he looks blissed out, with his eyebrows lifting every time his cockhead touches the back of your throat. You love the way he’s letting go, and you love that you’re the first person to see him like this, and if you play your cards right, the only one.

This time when your nose hits his dark patch of hair, you take an arm to still his movements. Once your hand cups around his waist, you inhale his smell—it's musky and somewhat sweet. The scent intensifies your desire for his cum, so you drop your hand and resume your ministrations.

“Fuck!” he grunts in surprise when you massage one of his balls with your fingers. "Good girl."

He didn't give you any indication he didn't like it, but still, you look up at him and see him already peering down at you. “Shit, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth," he praises, fueling your moans. The vibrations reverberate through him, and he opens his mouth to tell you, “Your mouth feels fucking fantastic. This is why I was jealous of your stupid candy."

"What?" you muffle into him.

"When you had that bright purple lollipop in your mouth. You-ah-you kept on sucking it, making all of those noises and saying how good it tasted. I kept thinking about having your mouth on me, and it was driving me crazy.”

You giggle, thinking about the ridiculous idea that he was jealous of some sugary treat.

"¿Crees que es chistoso? (Do you think it’s funny?)“ He doesn't take your laughter lightly and harshly snaps his hips against your face. His lips curl into a snarl, and wet sounds along with Din's grunts echo throughout the room. Amidst his brutal pace, his hazy mind thinks, Is she okay? Quickly, he opens his eyes to see if he didn't take it too far, only to see one of your hands in between your thighs, fingers working deep inside of you. It only encourages him to keep slamming his cock, driven by the pleasure coursing through his veins and seeing your oh-so-pretty lips molding him perfectly.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close-“ he warns, releasing the grip he has on your head. You scramble to detach yourself from Din, causing a long string of saliva to form once you pull off him. Your jaw is a bit sore to continue sucking him off, so you resort to taking his base into your hand and angling his dick with his tip pointing upwards. His eyes bore into yours, waiting for your next move.

Instead of your lips wrapping around his dick, they lower to his sack. You suck his left ball, and your hand fondles the other one.

"Fuck, yes," he moans, his eyes fluttering shut. You love that he’s gotten more vocal; it makes the heat between your legs burn hotter. When you alternate your actions, it causes him to whimper out your name in a broken moan. You feel him pulse, and since you don’t want it to be over yet, you kneel in front of him and trail your lips upwards, licking the veins on the underside of his dick. His cockhead is leaking again, and you can’t help but run your tongue there, collecting the liquid that has dripped lower, almost to your fist.

“Chúpale ahí, mami, así, así (Suck it in there, mami, like that, like that),” Din whines, and his words cause you to whine too. You want his cum now, you decide, and one last time, you wrap your lips around his purple tip and run a hand down to his base to play with his balls. You feel him pulse, his stomach tenses, his thighs shake, and “a- uhn!” You close your eyes and stick your tongue out. His hot seed comes out in ropes. It paints your breasts in white iridescent cream, and it hits just below your eye. With your mouth open, some of his cum lands on your tongue. He’s panting and letting out strings of your name along with curses. Once you’re sure you’ve milked him for every last drop, you let your grip off and swallow his spend. Mmm, he tastes salty and like apples, you muse. When you open your eyes, Din’s just finished composing himself. His lashes flutter open, and when he sees you peering up at him, he gives you a smile brighter than the hottest sun.

“Ven aqui (come here),” he beckons, and you rise to his height, throwing your arms around him. He meets your lips for a kiss and quickly scoops you up to carry you. With you in his arms, he walks to his bathroom with the intention of taking a shower. You separate your lips from him to talk.

“So, the mami thing,” you start, and he buts in with a groan. “Escucha pues (listen to me),” you scold.

He playfully rolls his eyes. “I’m all ears,” but then his expression changes. “Wait, did you not like that? I’m so sor-“ You cover his mouth and kiss his nose.

“You’ve really gotta let me finish my sentences, baby,” you say, playing with his sweaty curls around the nape of his neck. “I loved it. I was just wondering if papi was on the table for you.”

“Woman,” he exhales like he’s in pain. “Let’s shower and then go a few more times.” He feels himself grow again and quickly opens the bathroom door.

You grin at his response. “Did you know that shower sex is a thing?”

Extended A/N: In my previous post, I mentioned that this story might be the last one I share before leaving this website. I haven't had the time to finalize my decision yet. I appreciate those who reached out – thank you 🩷. To give you some context, I considered leaving due to some negative interactions I received. I often portray my characters as Spanish speakers, and unfortunately, that has led to some unfavorable responses. However, as I mentioned earlier, I haven't made a final decision yet. Anyhow, thank you for reading, and have a lovely day 🫶🏽!

#Din Djarin x female reader #Virgin!Din Djarin #Din Djarin x reader #Din Djarin smut #sex pollen #The Mandalorian fanfiction #Din Djarin x you #Din Djarin x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #loslentesdepedrito's writing #my writing

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misshoneyimhome · 5 months ago

Text

But with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow I William Nylander & Matthew Knies - Part three

Summary; A quote by Hector Urquhart goes "One man's rubbish may be another's treasure" - however, what happens, when the first man realises that it wasn't rubbish after all?

Other notes: Alrighty babes, so I've finally managed to finish the last part of this small series 🤗 which was sort of also the main idea I had from the beginning when I first decided to write it all out 🙈 Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed it all so far, and hopefully this last part will be as entertaining as well 🤍

Tropes & Warnings; William Nylander x Matthew Knies x reader, Friends to lovers; 18+ smut; f masturbating with toy, descriptions of protected and unprotected penetrative sex (p in v), cum inside, threesome (mmf), oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (p in v), cum inside (double creampie);

Word count; 6.1K+

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost @Fortheloveofnylander

➼｡ﾟ

Returning to the locker room to face Matthew was anything but easy. After chasing after William following his decision to step down from the three-way drama, you knew Matthew was left alone, wiping away the last few drops of blood from their fight.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you made your way back, heavy steps echoing. Confronting him was inevitable.

William understood that you were torn between the two of them. You loved them both, each in their own way, making the choice between them a heartbreaking predicament. Despite everything, William hadn’t entirely let you go. In his own way, he was still fighting for you, even if it meant having only half of you. And that only made you love him more.

You had kissed each other goodbye before he continued down the hall, giving you the time and space to return to Matthew and make your decision.

Maybe a small part of William hoped that now Matthew would step down, admitting he couldn’t compete with William over you. But when you opened the door to the locker room, Matthew was still there, just where you’d left him, his head lifting to meet you with a tender gaze.

You swallowed hard as you gently approached, struggling to find words while your breath caught in your throat.

And Matthew sensed your struggle, noticing the tears forming on your lower lash line. He then simply stood and walked slowly toward you.

Neither of you spoke. He just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the cocoon of his larger figure, still half in gear, making you feel small and fragile. Feeling your deep and heavy breaths, he held you closely, tightening his embrace to signal that everything was okay.

You felt his signals and made an effort to return the gesture by hugging him tightly as well. The locker room was silent, only the distant noises of skates scraping the ice and sticks hitting pucks echoing through the corridors.

And when you finally pulled away from the man before you, looking up to meet his eyes with a concerned look, he simply curved a light smile on his perfect lips before breaking the comfortable silence.

“I can’t give you up,” he spoke firmly, his voice low and confident.

You looked up at him with a small plea in your eyes, perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. Your lips parted as you let out a small gasp, your hands seeking comfort on his chest.

“I don’t want you to,” you whispered, “but I can’t give him up either.”

Matthew nodded gently, trying to grasp your position. “I understand,” he replied softly, “so I won’t ask you to.”

It wasn’t the most ideal situation you found yourself in.

On one hand, you were dating William Nylander: the man who had captured your attention, mind, and soul with a passionate night that led to more, and never left. He was always on your mind, a lingering desire that you couldn’t shake.

William was undeniably charming. He was witty and intriguing, and your time together was filled with laughter and joyful moments. What began as a purely physical encounter soon evolved into something deeper. His touch felt heavenly, his kisses intoxicating, and his embrace comforting, radiating warmth.

Your relationship with William had started as amazing, mind blowing, raw sex, but both of you knew deeper feelings had developed.

On the other hand, you were dating Matthew Knies: the younger hockey player, a freshman who had stolen your heart. With Matthew, it wasn’t just about physical intimacy; it was about care and a profound connection. What began as friendship grew into something more meaningful, and over time, you found yourselves yearning for each other in the most intimate ways.

Matthew was the romantic and gentle type. He showed genuine interest in you, listened attentively, and expressed his feelings sincerely. He went out of his way to help you when needed, and when your relationship grew more intimate, he respected your boundaries and gave you the space you needed.

Your relationship with Matthew had evolved into something profound: a heartfelt bond between close friends who had developed deep feelings for each other, sharing romantic and pleasurable intimacy.

In order words, your heart was torn between these two remarkable men, each offering something unique. William brought excitement and passion, while Matthew brought tenderness and understanding. So, juggling your emotions for both was far from simple, and the weight of your feelings grew heavier each day.

Simply put, you were both in Heaven and in Hell.

At this point, you were certain that one of them would grow weary, throw in the towel, and move on to something more enticing and enjoyable. You believed that neither of them wanted to share you with the other or allow you to love someone else.

Yet to your surprise, neither of them gave up. And more importantly, neither pressured you to choose between them or pushed the other away. Instead, they both stayed, showering you with love and affection as if there were no competition, respecting your needs.

It was a rollercoaster of blissful highs and painful lows.

With an agreement in place among the three of you, you attempted to organise your schedule to accommodate both of them. You went on dates with each: Matthew wooed you with romantic dinners, while William held you close during thunderstorms with takeout and a movie. You took dog walks, had coffee dates, and squeezed in whatever time you could amidst your busy calendar.

However, to say it was easy would be a significant understatement. Balancing your time and attention equally between two men was a challenge in itself. On top of that, you had to synchronise with their demanding hockey schedules, manage your own work commitments, stay connected with friends, and keep in touch with your family.

And speaking of family, you were completely at a loss about how to explain that you weren’t just dating one professional hockey player, but two. Your relationships with them weren’t official enough to introduce them to anyone, so you had decided to keep it all to yourself.

But your mother, naturally curious about your dating life since you moved to the big city and weren’t visiting as often, kept asking. You tried to brush it off by saying you were busy with work and spending time with friends.

Which wasn’t entirely untrue. You did spend time with friends from the hockey world, whether it was brunching with Tessa and Stephanie or shopping with Sanna and Mathilda, you had your circle of girlfriends. The same went for your colleagues Bethany and Carol, who were still very interested in your dating life and offered advice, although you kept the identities of the men a secret.

It was simply refreshing to talk to someone outside the hockey circle about the challenges you faced. While the team's partners were supportive, you didn't want to add any tension or drama by discussing your situation further.

Instead, you went out with Bethany and Carol for more girl talk and drinks.

"Oh my y/n! It sounds like you're really keeping your options open," Bethany chuckled, her second cosmopolitan in hand.

Taking a sip of your whiskey sour, you nervously giggled. "I don't know about keeping options open... more like a tennis match where I'm on one side and they're on the other - and the tennis ball is my relationship with them..."

"So?" Carol smiled. "Having options can be better than settling on just one guy too soon - trust me!"

You chuckled along with their cheerful remarks. It felt good to chat with these ladies, knowing they probably had their judgments but were offering encouragement instead, as they debated between themselves which of the guys sounded like a suitable partner for you.

Outwardly, you smiled widely, laughing and offering cheerful comments. Inside, though, you just longed to be with William or Matthew. Either one would do. Both offered comfort, solace, and passionate sex resulting in multiple orgasms.

So, as the night wound down with a final espresso martini, you headed home, contemplating who you needed most at that moment. But that decision was far from easy. On the metro ride, you stared at both of their names on your phone screen, unable to bring yourself to call either of them.

‘Ugh, why is this so ?’ you muttered to yourself. You loved them both, and they hadn’t asked you to choose between them. Yet, you found yourself unable to decide, even for just one night. So, with a sigh, you opted for neither.

But when you got back home and realised your flatmate was out again, something stirred inside you. Maybe it was the few cocktails mixed with chatting about your dating and sex life with two guys. Or perhaps it was simply your hormones kicking in. Either way, you craved sensual pleasure – and since you couldn’t pick which guy you wanted in bed with you, you settled for the purple toy in your drawer. It never disappointed, and best of all, it involved no emotional entanglements.

So, lying in bed beneath the covers, no underwear on, you let the toy glide between your legs. It caressed your folds and gently teased your sensitive clit on a low setting, creating a delightful sensation. Your eyes closed, head sinking into the pillows beneath you.

And as you gradually increased the intensity, your lips parted involuntarily, gasping for air as your mind wandered and images flashed behind your closed eyelids.

Initially, you pictured William. His handsome Scandinavian face above you, semi-long blonde hair framing his features, his pink lips slightly apart. His skin glowed in the dim bedroom light, muscular arms strong on either side of your head, his member moving inside you rhythmically.

You imagined his kisses, how perfectly his lips fit with yours, the taste of his tongue, before he trailed kisses down your neck, leaving tender marks.

But then suddenly as he pulled away, his face morphed into Matthew's. Dark hair, no beard, smooth Arizona tan skin, lips almost as perfect as William’s but with a fiercer, more eager kiss.

His body was larger, his chest less hairy, and his shaft longer, penetrating deeper. You recalled the times of intimacy with him, how he couldn't restrain his movements, thrusting vigorously and emitting quiet grunts and moans.

It was all incredibly intense. And as you continued to move the toy in and out, you allowed the images to alternate between your two lovers. Each time you hit your sensitive spot, causing you to moan louder and gasp quietly, you switched the image of the man above you.

William's movements were experienced and controlled, while Matthew's were eager and resolute. Both amazing, both bringing you closer to climax. You could almost hear their deep moans as you imagined they too were nearing orgasm, pumping the toy faster as you cried out in pleasure.

And then finally, at the highest and most intense level, you pushed yourself over the edge, allowing waves of pleasure to surge through your body. Your mind was foggy, your moans echoing in cries of ecstasy as your toes curled and your heels dug into the mattress. You were in euphoria, tightening around the toy as you gradually lowered the intensity and settled from the rush.

You gently opened your eyes as you regained control of your breathing, though everything was still hazy. You had no idea whose face had been in your mind as you climaxed, as both William and Matthew were equally capable of pushing you over the edge.

So, setting the toy aside, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply before cleaning up and preparing for bed. Oh, you also managed to snap a nude photo or two to send as a goodnight treat to your lovers. And in return, you received photos of two erect cocks to dream about.

As if the turmoil of your love drama wasn’t enough, the playoffs brought its own intensity. Like many other seasons, the Leafs progressed to the first round, and to heighten the drama, they were trailing 3-1 in the series heading into the fifth game.

Each encounter between the Leafs and the Boston Bruins was thrilling and nerve-wracking. And as you sat on the edge of your seat in the Scotiabank Arena, holding your breath, you watched your boyfriends on the ice. When it was just one of them, it was manageable. However, when both occasionally skated together, it was difficult to decide whom to focus on, so you simply followed the puck.

Managing a relationship with a hockey player was far from easy, and juggling two relationships was nearly impossible. You couldn’t proudly wear their name on your jersey because you didn’t want to choose whose name to bear. However, the silver lining emerged with great excitement as the Leafs secured a victory.

But then came the inevitable question: who would you celebrate the night with?

As you followed the other partners to the locker room to meet the players, you naturally smiled widely. You felt the happiness within, the joy infectious among those around you. However, the moment you spotted both William and Matthew, your smile softened and your heart quickened.

In a quiet exchange, the three of you stood in the corridor, waiting for it to gradually empty. And by the time you were finally alone, the silence was a stark contrast to the cheers that had filled the halls just minutes ago.

You looked at each of them, just a few feet away, before they turned to each other and nodded. You gave them a curious glance, and as they turned back to you, both wore contented smiles.

"Don’t worry, we’re not going to fight each other tonight," Matthew said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, we've already talked about it and..." William added. "Kniesy gets you tonight - then I can have you after the next win," he explained with a smile.

You were taken aback by their agreement. Though you were relieved not to be caught in an argument, you couldn’t help but feel like a piece of meat, a prize they were exchanging, and not a person.

"Oh..." you tried to force a smile. "What if you don’t win the next game, then?" you asked curiously, looking at William.

He simply chuckled. "Then I guess I'll be needing some comfort."

It was a straightforward arrangement, and with a gentle nod, you agreed to spend the night with Matthew.

And to say he expressed his joy about the win in the most profound and exciting ways would be an understatement. Matthew gave you nothing but his all as he buried his head between your legs, his mouth exploring your sweet core. You felt his eagerness, his determination to give you the utmost pleasure, and he succeeded. The way he used his mouth to nip at your inner thighs, lick up your folds, suck your clit, and press your entrance with his tongue left your mind in a haze.

You gripped the sheets beneath you, and as he brought you to your first orgasm of the night, he wasted no time in wrapping up and entering you with his pulsating length.

The sex with Matthew felt pure and wonderful. He made a concerted effort to make love to you sweetly, prioritising your every need. Whether with his mouth, fingers, or cock, he listened attentively as you approached climax, ensuring to push you over the edge.

And after he let out a deep grunt and released into the latex, following your two orgasms, he pulled you close for a cuddle before you both drifted off to sleep in his spacious king-sized bed.

The sixth game took place in Boston, and once again to everyone’s surprise, the Leafs managed to dominate their opponents and win 3-1.

It was exhilarating. You had joined the other wives and girlfriends of the team to watch the match from Toronto, and as you made your way back home, you made sure to chat with each man and congratulate them on the victory.

It would have been William’s turn to spend the night with you after the match, but since the game was in Boston, you agreed to meet up as soon as he returned to Toronto.

And what a night he offered you.

Much like Matthew, William was determined to display his best skills. Still riding the high of the win, he swiftly undressed both of you and ensured he pleasured you first before attending to his own needs.

However, the moment his eyes fell on your inner thighs, spotting the marks Matthew had left behind from your last encounter, he felt compelled to elevate his game. He knew pleasing a woman with his mouth was his forte, yet now he realised the level of competition he faced.

Whether Matthew had done it deliberately or not, assuming William would have a similar approach, he couldn’t be sure. What he did know was how good his body felt against yours, and how well the two of you connected.

So, after ensuring you reached at least one orgasm through his skilled oral ministrations, William then took his time to work his fingers inside you. While kissing you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself, he curled and twisted his digits, finding that sweet spot he knew would drive you wild.

It was already incredibly intense, but William wasn’t finished yet. With his hard cock throbbing eagerly, he spun you around onto all fours and entered you from behind.

Moans filled the air, mixed with cries and the sound of skin meeting skin. And just as you felt the third climax building, gripping William's cock tightly, pushing him closer to his own release, he pulled you up forcefully. His strong arms held you against his chest as he turned your head and shared passionate kisses, all while continuing to thrust into you.

It was a perfect blend of raw, intense passion and deeper, romantic connection that drove both of you to the edge, leading to William climaxing inside you as you reached your third orgasm.

That night marked the first time you and William slept together in his bed, cuddling in his embrace, lost in a blissful dream of love.

Game 7 was just a day away, and despite the anxiety and thrill of previous games, this one surpassed all expectations. While you had watched playoffs and even Game 7’s before, being intimately involved with the team was a whole new experience.

Your heart raced with each passing second, especially when William scored a goal that filled you with excitement. You knew how wins always put him in a certain mood. However, Boston then managed to take the lead with two goals, and Matthew reacted suddenly to a punch from an opponent.

That moment stirred something else within you. Seeing Matthew so fired up ignited feelings that only these men could evoke in you. You found yourself holding your breath, caught up in the intensity of the game, following the puck's movements but always seeking out either of your partners.

And as the final buzzer echoed through the arena, sealing a 2-1 loss for the Leafs, your heart sank. You knew the players would be devastated after such a defeat, and the atmosphere reflected it. Despite reminding each other that they had given their all, the players walked out of Scotiabank Arena with heads hung low, saying little to each other.

Naturally, you didn’t want to intrude on either William’s or Matthew’s need for space to process the end of the season, so you gave them the time to collect themselves and cope with their emotions. You kissed both men tenderly, exchanging soft smiles as you offered them comfort in that moment.

Yet, just as you were about to step back and let them continue with the team, William took hold of your hand.

“Will you come over to my place tomorrow?” he asked gently.

You glanced briefly behind him, catching Matthew’s eye for a moment where he gave you a reassuring nod before you turned back to William.

“I’d love to,” you replied warmly.

As soon as you entered William’s condo, you hadn’t anticipated what was about to unfold. William greeted you at the door as usual, his lips meeting yours briefly, but you sensed something different in his demeanour. Typically, he would have swept you into his arms and led you to the bedroom, dining table, or perhaps the couch.

Instead, he took your hand—a gesture laden with romantic implications that set your mind racing with anticipation. A flicker of concern crossed your thoughts, wondering if he was about to end things. However, your confusion deepened when you saw Matthew sitting in the spacious living room on the sofa.

Were they both planning to break up with you?

But that wasn’t it either.

William took a deep breath as you settled on the coffee table, facing both men.

“Y/n,” he began gently, exchanging a quick glance with Matthew, “we’ve been discussing something…”

You looked between them with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“And there’s absolutely no pressure,” Matthew added, his tone just as gentle.

Your heart pounded faster, your mind racing as you tried to grasp what they were about to reveal. Then William continued, elaborating on their thoughts.

"We know you can’t choose between us… and we don’t want to make you…" William paused, licking his lips as he carefully considered his words. "So far, we've been comfortable with this arrangement where you date us individually, but…" He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "We want to… share you… more."

You gasped slightly at his words, uncertain of their meaning. "Share me more?" you asked softly, your eyes darting between William and Matthew.

Matthew spoke next, his voice slightly nervous. "Yes, we… um, we'd like to give you all of us. Both of us. At the same time."

You were speechless. They explained that they had discussed this between themselves, and unable to decide who would have you tonight after the loss, this was their solution. You couldn't find words to respond, but you felt a surge of unexpected confidence. Leaning forward, you took each of their hands in yours and kissed William first, then Matthew on the lips.

"So," you spoke softly, pulling back slightly, "how do we do this?"

Naturally, being with the three of you instead of just two required more coordination. The guys gently led you to William's bedroom, where they proceeded to undress you slowly, kissing you deeply and taking turns to explore your lips, neck, and body with their hands.

You weren’t exactly sure how to position your arms and hands, all you could do was surrender to their movements, allowing yourself to feel each touch as they undressed you. Your eyes closed briefly whenever their lips suckled and nibbled at your neck, always feeling a pair of hands on you, though not always sure whose.

And as they undressed themselves, soon all three of you were naked, and they gently guided you onto the bed. You knelt facing William as he knelt before you, while Matthew approached from behind.

Your hands first found William’s thick hair, pulling him into a deep kiss while Matthew’s hands cupped your breasts. Breaking away from William, you leaned back against Matthew, turning your head just enough for him to capture your lips, while William focused on your neck.

Their movements seemed almost choreographed, yet they were mindful not to overlap, occasionally checking each other to ensure harmony.

You were in bliss. Their touches felt incredible against your skin, causing you to instinctively close your eyes and savour every sensation. And when Matthew’s hand then delicately slid down to your core, seeking your clit, a soft moan escaped your lips.

"Oh yes, baby," William murmured under his breath before claiming your lips again, leaving you breathless while Matthew continued to stimulate your core with gentle precision.

Moaning softly into the kiss, your fingers entangled in William's locks while Matthew's mouth teased and marked your neck. The heat in the room intensified, your bodies melding together in a passionate dance.

And as the need for air became urgent, you gently pulled back, while Matthew released your sensitive bud. Biting your lip, you glanced between them, silently anticipating their next move.

So, with a wordless understanding, they began to shift positions, gently guiding you to move with them. William reclined on his side, urging you to lie on your back beside him, while Matthew positioned himself kneeling between your legs on the mattress.

"Just relax, baby. We're only here to please you," William spoke huskily, his voice tinged with a growl.

You did your best to relax, controlling your breaths as your eyes couldn't help but fixate on both of their erect members, standing proudly and ready. The sight made you bite your lip in anticipation. And as they both stroked themselves gently, their intense gaze locked on you, studying every curve of your body, sending shivers down your spine.

But you relinquished control to them. Lying on your back, you tried to relax and allow them to take charge. William leaned in, showering you with passionate kisses while Matthew began to trail kisses along your inner thighs.

"Mmm," you moaned softly, prompting William to lean back and let you release the sweet sounds of pleasure. His intense gaze followed you as his hand massaged your breasts, followed by kisses and licks on your nipples.

Meanwhile, Matthew listened attentively to your sighs of pleasure and allowed himself to taste you, running his tongue up your folds.

"Oh yes," you gasped, gripping the sheets with one hand while the other sought William’s muscular arm.

Then wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you in place, Matthew chuckled against your core before delving in. His tongue explored every inch of your sensitive flesh, lavishing attention on your clit and teasing your entrance.

Both men were captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Your squirming and moans fuelled their arousal, making their members throb in desperate need for attention.

And as Matthew continued to work his mouth against your core, eliciting soft cries and causing you to squint your eyes in pleasure, William intermittently kissed you, reassuring you there was more to come.

You felt the arousal building within you, the waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you lay between the two hockey players. Yet, instead of pushing you over the edge, Matthew withdrew from your core and hovered you to share a deep kiss.

Tasting yourself on his lips, you mingled the heat of your mouths before parting, locking eyes with his mesmerising gaze. "I want to taste you too," you breathed heavily, to which he nodded with a smirk.

"On your stomach, babe," Matthew spoke huskily, echoing William's agreement.

Shifting positions on the bed, you rolled onto your stomach, while Matthew knelt in front of you, his hard shaft right before your face. Meanwhile, William knelt behind you, softly caressing your buttocks.

"Fucking nice ass, baby," he chuckled huskily as his large hand gripped your cheeks firmly.

You couldn't help but smile, though your focus remained on the younger player. Then taking his cock in your hand, you sensually licked the tip and gently pumped him. Matthew was well-endowed, and you had only teased him with oral foreplay to get him fully hard, which never took long. But tonight, you wanted to show him what you could do.

So, slowly and seductively, you gradually took more of his length into your warm mouth, ensuring it was well lubricated with saliva, while moving your head in sync with your hand.

And feeling a hand in your hair, you briefly looked up through your lashes and saw Matthew part his lips, lightly closing his eyes as he moaned softly. His tug on your hair told you he was enjoying your actions.

Meanwhile, William was exploring your heat. Despite Matthew's gentle oral attention, you craved more, and he was eager to satisfy you. His large hands massaged your thighs, moving slowly to caress your cheeks, before gently parting them slightly to slip a finger down.

And as if per instinct, you raised your hips slightly, giving him better access and allowing his finger to gently explore your moist folds before slipping inside you.

"Mmm," you moaned softly around Matthew's member as William began to move his finger, massaging your inner walls with deliberate pumps.

It was unexpectedly sensual and a pleasurable experience, something you never imagined doing. But they simply made you feel completely at ease. With every slow movement, both of them ensured you felt nothing but pleasure.

Soft moans filled the room, your bodies growing warmer as William continued to finger you and you pleasured Matthew orally. Yet suddenly, you had to pull away from Matthew as William added another finger and intensified his movements, causing you to gasp.

"Oh yes, Willy!"

Almost instinctively, you lifted your hips further, your hand moving eagerly around Matthew's cock as a wave of sensation surged through you, bringing you closer to climax.

William knew exactly where to touch you inside, hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly. And the knot in your stomach tightened with each movement, prompting you to pump Matthew faster.

"Oh fuck yes, baby," Matthew moaned, feeling the effects of William's control over you, his actions dictating your reactions and heightening Matthew's pleasure under your touch.

His breath grew heavier as you tried to take him into your mouth again, sucking fiercely, feeling his climax approaching. And William couldn't help but grin, aware of his power at that moment. Glancing at his teammate, who was also moaning, they agreed on their next move.

"I think she's ready to come," William murmured huskily, fingering you faster and deeper, eliciting small cries from you.

"Yes, make her come," Matthew agreed breathlessly, knowing that if William continued to stimulate you like this, your reactions could bring him to climax too. And he wasn’t ready for it to end so soon. "Fuck, make her come for us."

And they didn't need to tell you twice. Stopping your movements and releasing Matthew's cock with a gasp, you gripped the sheets beneath you, your walls tightening around William's fingers as he pushed you over the edge, allowing the orgasm to cloud your mind.

It was pure pleasure. And as William gently withdrew his hand from your core, he simply grinned before licking your juices from his fingers. "Mmm, she tastes really good."

There was a brief moment of quiet laughter between the boys as you settled from your first climax. Yet, all of you were hungry for more. And though You knew William was skilled with his mouth, there was something else you wanted.

"Want you inside me," you whispered almost breathlessly, looking up at Matthew and then shifting to glance at William, both of whom nodded in agreement. You weren’t specifically asking for any of them, just either one. So, adjusting positions on the mattress again, William moved to lie in front of you while Matthew knelt behind you.

Despite the intensity of the moment, they both took the time to kiss you deeply and passionately, showing that this was more than just physical. You meant so much more to both of them.

And as William's tongue danced with yours, Matthew positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips gently as he guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. With a slow push, he then effortlessly stretched your walls further than William's fingers had done.

Moaning softly, you pulled away from William who lay sprawled before you and gazed into his blue eyes. "Please, let me taste you too."

It was a request William gladly granted. And as Matthew rocked his hips and established a steady rhythm of thrusting into you, you wrapped your hand firmly around William’s length and took him into your mouth.

"Mm, yes, that's good," William praised you, trying to steady his breathing as you pleasured him.

Meanwhile, Matthew's lips found your shoulder as he thrust with purpose, his moans deep and husky as he gradually approached his limit.

The sounds of moans and skin slapping filled the bedroom, growing louder and more urgent as his pace quickened, and clutching the sheets beneath you, he intensified his thrusts, which only spurred you to work William's shaft more eagerly, causing him to moan louder and slowly approach climax himself.

"Oh yes, baby, you're so good," William growled, louder than before, his hips moving instinctively into your mouth.

You found yourself gagging slightly as you took him deeper, eager to satisfy him. But just as you struggled with his length, Matthew pounded into you forcefully, causing you to moan louder and momentarily lose control of William's member, releasing it from your mouth.

"Oh, shit," you cried out as Matthew's thrusts became too intense to handle. You tried to keep your hand moving on William's shaft, but as Matthew pushed himself closer to climax, he also pushed you very close to the edge.

"Are you going to come again, baby?" William asked quietly, but you could only nod in response, accompanied by a soft cry. "Fuck, that's hot."

And it didn't take much longer for both of you to let out louder moans. Your walls clenched around Matthew's cock as he thrust hard and deep, grunting deeply as he reached his climax, releasing himself inside you.

Both of you needed a moment to catch your breath. Gasping for air, you had reached your second orgasm, and Matthew had peaked as well.

William kept his focus on you, his member dripping with pre-cum as he also yearned for release. But his teammate wasn’t going to be the only one filling you up, so he remained composed, waiting for you to return to reality.

And when you lifted your head to look at William again, you offered him a satisfied smile, prompting him to continue. "Think you can handle a bit more?"

You nodded, and Matthew gently withdrew, quickly heading to the bathroom to clean up while William shifted positions once more. Guiding you to lie on your back, William then positioned himself between your legs in missionary style.

His eyes admired your glistening body, taking in the view of your beautiful figure as he noticed the mixed fluids lightly dripping from your entrance. And this sight only encouraged him to move forward and fill you with his own.

Leaning down, he shared another deep kiss before pushing himself into you. It felt almost effortless. The combination of your stretched, overstimulated walls, moistened with your own juices and Matthew’s release, made it feel almost too easy for him. Yet, it also motivated him to increase his pace swiftly, thrusting hard and fast to reach his own climax.

"Fuck yes, Willy," you moaned softly.

You were thoroughly overwhelmed by this point. Your body felt thoroughly used, yet simultaneously deeply satisfied. And as William pounded into you mercilessly, your hands found his strong arms supporting himself, while your legs wrapped around his lower body and your heels dug into his back.

William felt his climax building, his skin slick with sweat as he gazed deeply into your eyes while you moaned and gasped beneath him. Your faces were close, almost intimate, but he had to shut his eyes tightly as he finally released his cum into you, mixing it with his teammate's.

"Fuck..." he breathed deeply, thrusting slowly a few more times before resting his head in the crook of your neck.

The entire experience had been overwhelming for all of you. While your body had been delightfully overstimulated, the boys had to maintain control to avoid coming too soon. So, when they finally let go, it was more intense than ever before.

And as you and William gently untangled yourselves, sharing a few more kisses, Matthew returned from the bathroom and joined you on the bed, making sure to kiss you as well.

Your body felt numb, achy, and weak. Yet your mind was completely blissed out, soaring with ecstasy, and flooded with endorphins.

Breathing was difficult in the heavy air of the room, saturated with the scent of raw, passionate sex that hung in the air as the warmth between the two bodies flanking you enveloped you.

The memories of how you'd got here were hazy, yet there was no trace of regret. Your heart raced in your chest as tingles radiated through your core after the intense encounter. Yet, pure happiness surged through your veins, joy coursing through your bloodstream.

#william nylander x matthew knies x reader #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #matthew knies imagine #william nylander smut #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey imagine #nhl hockey smut

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paladin--strait · 3 months ago

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Congratulations on 100 followers! Can you do prompt 3 and 4 with Timo Meier please?

crying in his arms + him crying in your arms

when the final buzzer rang out across the arena, the boys shook hands with the opposing team, waving at the disappointed, sad, and frustrated fans and then skating off the ice with their heads hung low. the devils final chance of making playoffs was over.

i shake my head, the boys played well, just not well enough to beat the other team in overtime. i sigh, timo is gonna be so upset with himself. he missed a lot of chances to score tonight. either he didn't take the chance or the goalie prevented the puck from making it into the net.

my steps ring out in my head, even over the loud chatter of the upset devils fans and the happy fans of the other team. i make my way to the locker room, leaving the rest of the wags behind me, attempting to catch up.

i could care less about them, timo is my only priority right now. my foot taps against the tiled floor while we wait for the reporters to make their way out of the locker room. after they were all gone, the wags were let in or the players met them in the hallway.

i wait for timo to come out, he is always one of the first ones to leave. i give sad smiles and hugs to some of the guys, especially the younger ones. they take the losses really hard since they put all the pressure on themselves. sometimes they choke mid-game, but that's okay since everyone has done it and sometimes it's okay to put pressure on yourself.

eventually, all the boys have filed out of the locker room, leaving me standing out there alone. i finally decide to go into the locker room and check on timo. i clear my throat before i turn the doorknob. when the door creaks open, i notice how dark it is in there. all the lights are off, except the led lights that show off the logo that rests on the ceiling.

"timo? are you in here?" i say, looking around, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness. i hear a sniff to my right and my head snaps in that direction. "timo? is that you?" i walk towards the body that's shielded by darkness.

the closer i get, the clearer it is to see who is sitting on the bench. my heart breaks at the sight of timo, elbows resting on his knees with his face in his hands. "oh baby..." i can hear my voice tremble, my eyes welling with tears.

i kneel down, placing my hands on his skates. i notice that he hasn't changed, every single piece of hockey gear still on his body. i reach over and begin to pull off the clear tape, before a hand touches mine. "don't." i look up at timo, who is looking down at me with red eyes. "i don't want it to be over yet..."

my lip wobbles and i stand up, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. "i'm sorry, honey. we can stay as long as you need to." i rake my fingers through his short hair, "i don't mind at all."

i feel his arms wrap around my waist, pulling my body closer to his. "i could have done more. made more shots...maybe with a miracle one would have gone in or something..." timo rants off about all the things he could've done, and i just sit and listen while he talks.

i sniffle when he stops his words to try and choke back a sob. "hey...you did what you thought was best in the moment. i'm sure all the boys have regrets, too. you can make up for these things during the next season." i pull back, cupping his wet face in my hands. "i can help you practice during the off season."

timo smiles down at me, "thank you, baby. and i'm sorry..." he says, eyes moving down to his lap.

"sorry for what?" i ask, my head tilting to the side in confusion.

"sorry for letting you down." he says. locking eyes with mine. the sight of his trembling body and his eyes that are brimming with tears makes the tears i've been holding back run down my face.

"baby...you never ever let me down. i'll always be proud of you." i say, wiping my face. "even if you did let me down, i'd still be here for you, supporting you through everything."

he smiles and pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me, and putting his face in my shoulder. he mumbles some kind of thank you and sniffs. i rub his back with my hand, his hockey gear getting in the way slightly.

when he pulls back a few minutes later, he smiles at me softly and presses a soft kiss to my lips. he then removes me from his lap and begins taking off his gear. while he pulls everything off, i look around at the locker room. the usually full cubbies are partially cleaned out of the players personal belongings.

the sight makes me sad, the ending of the devils hockey season once again makes my heart feel heavy. i sigh, walking up to jack hughes' locker. i look around at his things, my lips pursed into a line. i think about all the things he went to this season. people were so disappointed in him just because he made a few mistakes. but, all players make mistakes. because of his rising popularity and his reputation he had to uphold, the mistakes disappointed fans and reporters.

i'm pulled out of my deep thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. i snap my head around and see timo. "ready?" he asks, his accent suddenly very evident, something that usually happens right after he cries or is upset.

i smile at him and nod, "ready to go? yes. ready for the season to end? no." i explain, leaning my head on his shoulder blade, looking around at the locker room full of gear and items that belong to players one last time before locker clean out day. i sniffle once more, the thought of the season ending is heavy on my shoulders and i can't even imagine how the players feel right now.

i feel timo's hand on my shoulder, pulling me into him so he can kiss the top of my head. after the quick kiss, he leans his head on mine and lets out a deep breath, looking around with me. "even though i know i'm coming back, it still hurts to leave." i nod my head in agreement.

"it'll be back before we know it." i wipe my eyes and look back up at him with a smile. "i promise."

#nhl #hockey #new jersey devils #timo meier x reader #timo meier #timo meier x chubby!reader #paladin's fics!#paladin's 100 follower celly!#nico hischier #jack hughes

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toasttt11 · 28 days ago

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visits

February 20, 2021

Hayden smiled as she pulled into the pick up line at the airport and smiled seeing Ellen, Jim and Luke walking out of the airport and to her car, they got into car and Ellen sat in the passenger seat.

“Hi Aunty El and Uncle Jim.” Hayden smiled at the two and then flashed a soft smile at Luke, “Hi Lu.” She looked between the three and started driving.

Jim smiled softly and squeezed her shoulder from the back seat and Ellen rested her hand on arm. Luke was beaming from the backseat glad to spend some time with Hayden for the next week.

Hayden has a home game and then two days after she plays two games at Vancouver and will end up being in Vancouver for five days. So it was perfect time for Ellen, Jim and Luke to come out to visit Hayden and Quinn.

Hayden pulled into her driveway and hopped out of the car and was not surprised the second she got out Luke was immediately hugging her and clinging to her side, “Okay you have to stop growing.” She had recently grew another inch and so has Luke.

Luke just grinned hugging her.

Ellen hugged Hayden letting Luke still hold Hayden as she did so and Jim hugged Hayden as well.

Hayden opened her front door and Archie immediately came running and rubbing all over everyone.

Ellen and Jim noticed immediately how much the house truly did change, they have seen the pictures obviously but it truly felt like a new house.

Hayden gave the three a tour as she showed them her renovated house before she led them to their new guest rooms as she had the guest rooms redone down and some moved as well.

Hayden gave Luke the guest room right next to her room, “And my room is right there if you need anything.” Hayden grinned playfully at her baby brother knowing he will definitely sneak into her room to cuddle.

Luke smiled back and he set his bags down in his room and turned to Hayden, “Can we go to the shooting room!” Luke quickly asked pulling out his puppy eyes.

“Of course.” Hayden agreed and threw her arm over his shoulder as she led him done to the basement where her shooting room was and she turned the lights on as she walked in.

Luke immediately walked to the wall of sticks and grabbed his stick he has there and his gloves and started shooting some pucks.

“Your shot is getting even better.” Hayden complimented him after watching Luke hit a few pucks.

Luke has always asked Hayden for help in improving things and Hayden knows Luke’s like having her opinion. Luke perked up hearing her compliment and laughed as she grabbed her stick and stole the puck from him and shot it.

Ellen and Jim came out of their room after a little while and was not surprised to hear laughing and talking and they found Hayden and Luke in the shooting room.

Ellen leaned on Jim as she watched the two and smiled seeing how much Hayden is healing and how she seems more her lately and it made her feel better that she isn’t suffering everyday as much.

February 21, 2021

Luke, Ellen and Jim headed to the suite Hayden got them and they saw a few others in the suite but Ellen noticed Lauren immediately.

Lauren looked over in the suite and saw some of Hayden’s family and walked over to them with a smile, “It is so nice to finally be able to meet some of Hayden’s family.” Lauren beamed as she spoke to them, unfortunately when the Hughes were in town to see Hayden, Lauren was out of town.

Ellen smiled and hugged Lauren softly, “Hayden talks about Connor and you all the time.” Ellen owes a lot to Connor and Lauren for all they have done for Hayden.

Lauren smiled softly glad to hear that.

They all sat down and Luke was immediately focusing on the ice as Hayden was warming up as he had on Hayden’s Oiler hoodie and Ellen and Lauren were chatting with each other and Jim was mostly focusing on the ice.

Hayden scored a few moments into the game and her family were all cheering for her, Hayden smiled as she waved at them. Luke beamed and waved back making Hayden laugh fondly.

Ellen turned to Lauren during the first intermission, “Thank you for all you and Connor have done for Hayden. Especially her house.” Ellen was incredibly thankful for how much Lauren and Connor have helped Hayden. Especially as Connor helped Hayden find a therapist.

Lauren softened seeing how sincere Ellen was and gently grabbed her hand squeezing softly, “Hayden is family we would do anything for her.”

Ellen smiled glad Hayden has people who love her in Edmonton and it lessens some of her worries knowing they will take care of Hayden when she can’t.

Hayden ended up scoring two more goals and had an incredible night with three goals and three assists, the Oilers won 7-1.

Hayden and Connor walked out of the locker room chatting with each other as they walked to their families who were next to each other.

Luke immediately hugged Hayden and started rambling about her game and everything he saw, something Hayden had desperately missed after games.

“Amazing game.” Jim praised his niece pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

Hayden was all smiles as she was with some of her family.

Lauren and Connor followed Hayden and her family as they were having a dinner at Hayden’s house.

Hayden, Ellen and Lauren started cooking in Hayden’s kitchen as Luke helped Hayden set the table and do little things for her as Jim and Connor talked hockey as they watched a game together.

Hayden smiled softly seeing two really important people to her fit right in with her family and she couldn’t wait till Leon and Celeste met her family too.

Hayden and Luke brought the food to the table as Lauren and Ellen grabbed drinks for everyone and everyone sat around the large dinning room table.

Hayden throughly enjoyed the entire night laughing and smiling with the people she cares for.

February 22, 2021

Luke was taking a nap on the couch with Archie as he was exhausted after practicing for a while with Hayden at the Oilers rink.

Hayden asked Ellen and Jim to come with her to office so she could talk to them about something she needed to show them.

Ellen and Jim sat down on the couch in Hayden’s office as Hayden grabbed a file out of her desk and pulled out a stack of papers and handed them to Ellen.

Ellen gasped as she read the paper, they were adoption papers, she shared a shocked look with Jim and looked back at Hayden.

“Mom and Dad had a plan if anything ever happened to them and this is if i ever want to be officially adopted by you two.” Hayden explained as she understood exactly why her parents left the papers, they wanted her to never feel left out and to be secure in the Hughes family if anything ever happened.

“Is this something you want?” Ellen asked softly as she and Jim has truthfully wanted to adopt Hayden and not just be her legal guardian even if she is over eighteen already but they don’t want to overstep if she doesn’t want that.

Hayden swallowed thinking over her words, “Not yet.” Hayden hesitatingly answered, “Maybe one day but i’m not ready yet.” She did like the idea of one day being officially adopted but she wasn’t ready yet.

“Of course.” Jim easily agreed as she gently grabbed his niece’s hand and squeezed softly.

“You can be fifty and we will still happily sign the papers.” Ellen reassured her niece making Hayden let out sigh of relief and nod.

February 23, 2021

Hayden walked up to Quinn’s apartment in Vancouver after being dropped off after her practice right after the flight from Edmonton.

Ellen, Jim and Luke had left to Vancouver earlier in the morning before her and were already at Quinn’s apartment.

Luke opened the door and beamed seeing Hayden and hugged her tightly there though he saw her only a few hours ago.

“Hey bud.” Hayden softly spoke her hand brushing over his hair as they walked into the apartment with Luke still holding onto her.

Quinn looked up as Hayden walked into with Luke clinging to her and smiled at his baby sister, he got up and walked over to her and gently pried Luke away and hugged her tightly.

Quinn leaned up and kissed the side of her head as he is unfortunately shorter than all of his younger siblings.

“Hi Quinny.” Hayden smiled as she leaned into Quinn contently, the only person missed now was Jack.

Quinn guided Hayden over to the concubine and they all sat down and Hayden curled into Quinn’s side and Luke cuddled into Hayden.

They spent some time together just playing some board games until Hayden and Quinn had to head to the arena for the game.

Hayden really enjoyed being able to spend a whole week with Ellen, Jim and Luke and being able to see Quinn four days in a row she was only missing Jack.

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cinakira · 5 months ago

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youtube

Cinakira Cinakira Dimmable Recessed 3w Dc 12v Led Puck/Under Cabinet Light Led Spotlight Gray Shell About this item Dimmable , recessed installtion type DC12v ,direct work with 12V POWER SUPPLY. 3W WORKING WATTS. USE 2835 LED. use for led puck ,cabinet , spotlight Low Profile - Slimline design is nice for low clearance application, perfect for RV boat interior lighting like ceiling kitchen cabinet bedroom Full Aluminum - Manufactured from machined aluminum and stainless clips, perfect heat dissipation and anti-corrosion Can be with integral Switch - Can be with integrated on/off/dimming soft button has memory function, it stores last brightness value and on/off status CRI 90+ Pleasant Light - Fitting high CRI LED and frosted lens for optimum light distribution, even light shows natural true color Flush Mount - Recessed mount with spring clips, light fixture sits flush with ceiling or cabinet, modern looking and shock-proof Product Description 3W LED downlight, Spotlight,led ceiling light puck light Input Voltage: 12V dc Power Consumption: 3W 2835 led. Beam Angle: 120degree Color Temperature:2800-3300(warm white) or 6000k(cool white) or 4000k(natural white) Body temperature: less then 50℃ TIP: (12v type LED Driver need) Product Size: Dia66x10(H)mm Cut out size:60mm Material:Aluminum with silver color More details pls feel free to ask me ,thanks , Thanks and best regards . Jessie Skype ID:zhang.jessie36 Email：[email protected] Whatsapp/wechat:+8619129330501 puck lights,led puck light,puck lights wired,puck light kit,puck light led,puck light 4000k,puck light bulbs,puck light fixture,puck light insert,puck light dimmable,puck light hard wired,puck light no remote

#led puck light #puck light led #puck light kit #led puck lights with remote control #led cabinet light #Youtube

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holy-puckslibrary · 9 months ago

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━ 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲.

──────────── 𝐰𝐜 — 1k 𝐜𝐰 — fanon!rafe on a one-way flight to simp city, some spice but nothing graphic or excessive, mention of drugs/being high (it's rafe, what did you expect?), 'kid' as a pet name bc he is that guy + cliffhanger? 𝐚/𝐧 — this was originally posted on @holy-pucks for my nov 23 slumber party, but i've decided to upload it here because it never showed in the tags. if you've already read this, i would very much appreciate you showing it some love here as well :) thx a mil in advance, besties! ────────────

main masterlist | MDNI

RAFE CAMERON knew the risk. He just couldn't be bothered to give a shit.

if one of the loud-mouthed busybodies took issue with his behavior, that's their prerogative. they've been at it so long, drunk and overzealous, their flippant chatter is mere static in the background of his life.

it isn't his fault their stale lives and expired marriages pale in comparison to the pocket of paradise he carved out of figure eight. rafe didn't ask for their attention, nor did he solicit their opinions — and he certainly didn't invite an audience; his girlfriend writhing in his lap will never be a spectator sport.

it would be too generous to call it sympathy, but rafe can understand how they might get confused. once you catch a glimpse, you're as good as gone. a lost cause, irrevocable, and clear as day. beauty that effortlessly captivating is impossible to tear your eyes away from, and the original kook princess is bathed in excess.

of all people, he knows the breadth of her magnetism and is just as weak for it, if not more. egotism drains along with reason when they're simply in the same room, his carnal preoccupation more than happy to fill the vacuum of power.

rafe commands the island and its inhabitants — with one paramount exception. he wields power because she allows for it. she, who is his indisputable sovereign and to whom he pledges his undying allegiance with innate reverence.

it was his wandering hands, after all, which led the pair to an empty veranda overlooking the bustling midsummer festivities.

a laurel of fresh blooms became collateral damage soon after, having been unceremoniously knocked to his feet by her fervent desperation to feel his sun-kissed skin against her lips.

rafe certainly had no objections.

with a heap of silky fabric rucked up around her waist and her wrists pinned taut to the small of her back, rafe's girlfriend works him over with both teeth and tongue, the affection carefully choreographed to sync up with the sway of her hips. each nip, suck, or kiss accompanies her precise labors, and any marbled evidence left behind he'll wear with pride, much to the island's chagrin and his sisters' disgust.

rafe previewed the evening's fireworks display as she bore down on his aching bulge, never once ceasing the light nibbling of his earlobe; it's the tell-tale, strained whimper diced by gritted teeth that incited action.

his hips jerk up in search of sweet relief, inadvertently finding her bare heat well beyond wet and wanting.

rafe commends his past self for confiscating the lace as they neared the valet podium; the garment fares better as a pocket square.

close proximity amplifies all those delicious, needy sounds, robbed of their potential prematurely; she is not yet immune to gossip.

it doesn't matter, rafe would know if his girl was close donning earplugs and a blindfold. her pathetic attempt at modesty is hardly an issue. much like how there isn't an inch of skin he hasn't traversed; there isn't a bluff of her's he can't immediately see through. no matter how soft or sudden, rafe can feel his girl teetering on the brink.

the faint wobble of her bottom lip might as well be a formal declaration; she's trying and failing to keep herself from falling over the edge — the polite little thing knows the price of gluttony.

as he reclines in the stately patio chair, he pulls her down with him. in anticipation, rafe tips his mouth and angles his hips while relishing in the spoiled musings of a person who's never wanted for anything.

rafe relents, mercifully rutting into her as his thumb rubs a certain finger.

"sooner or later, i'm putting a ring on this hand."

giggling despite herself, she abruptly leans back to inspect his pupils.

"how high are you?"

the friction of shifting pressure reluctantly betrays a soft spot in his chainmail cloak. the levity of the moment envelops them in warmth. a brilliant rarity peeks through between the velvety curtain of annoyance: contentment.

even so, rafe doesn't allow the foreign state of mind or the white-hot burn of pleasure to distract him from his prior ambition.

"kid, if i was high right now, we'd be halfway to the courthouse."

she simply shakes her head and buries her face back into the crook of his neck.

rafe has an affinity for grandstanding. she hardly, if ever, took him at his word, simultaneously too smart and too skeptical to make his words into something more than he meant. sometimes, he said things because he needed to know how they tasted, and others, her on-again-off-again boyfriend just wanted to hear the sound of his own voice.

he is impulsive and unreliable, and no amount of love will change that.

rafe relinquishes her wrists in favor of her neck. his palm burns the nape as it keeps her a prisoner to his greedy, electric gaze.

the dull throb mounting under his touch cannot hold a candle to the heartbeat palpitating between her thighs. major and minor, the muscles twitch in anticipation as they, too, are overwhelmed by the casual display of dominance.

he brings her forehead to rest against his. a novel softness in his voice fans across her gently parted lips. "i know you think i'm bullshitting you, but not this time. i'm so fucking serious, kid. the proof's at home in the top right drawer of my desk."

her disbelief persists, manifesting in an uncouth snort.

"yeah, right."

rafe scoffs at the sarcasm-dipped quip; the unwavering effort to make his life more difficult at every turn was actually sort of endearing, he hated to admit.

"i've had it since our graduation... just never found the right moment, i guess," he shrugs, quieter now.

rafe knows a smidge of feigned ambivalence won't detract from the heated, earnest implication beaming behind his irises.

the claim is substantiated by her quirked-brow baiting, an act that leaves him frantically fishing for his keys.

if they’re lucky, they might make it to the driveway.

but the stars underestimate the proprietorial hunger of the kook prince, because they get three lights from the club before rafe parks the ford by the roadside.

────────────

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

⬸ back to the catalog (masterlist)

⬸ back to the main blog

#*ೃ༄ by holy-pucks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe concepts #fanon!rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #obx x reader #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks

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embodyingchaos · 1 year ago

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Hi! Since you are writing for Finn could you please write about the gaga episode including the reader and they help him with his red outfit or the rocky horror episode? Thank you!

❥ hi sweetheart! MY FIRST GLEE REQUEST AAAAA im so excited, i hope you like this! (so sorry this is so late!)

theatricality rewritten pairing: finn hudson x gn!reader genre: platonic, fluff, sorta angst(?) warnings: finn being sortaaa homophobic, mention of the f slur, finn being a jerk, this is like so bad im so sorry word count: 1.9k

the halls of mckinley were filled with students roaming around, conversing with one another while someone was just trying to put their books back into their locker. y/n swore as the books inside their locker fell out and plopped onto the floor, “how the hell does this even happen, i put them sideways for god’s sake.” they whispered to themselves, bending down to grab them before rearranging their positions. as they were putting their books back in, finn hudson had approached them.

“hey, y/n.” they looked up, “oh, hey finn. what’s up?” y/n asked as they closed their locker, “so many things are up. so many damn things.” he exasperatedly said, leaning his back on the wall.

finn and y/n had been friends ever since pre-school, they used to be best friends but some things change. they both reconnected when they joined the glee club around the same time. “what is it now? rachel? quinn? puck?” “kurt.” y/n whistled lowly, “that’s a new one.” they started to walk down the hallway to head to the glee club. “what about him?” “well, my mom made us move in with him and his dad, and now- now, i’ve got to share a room with him! like the dude’s fine and all, sure, but i need my privacy and he kinda makes me feel, i don’t know, uncomfortable?” finn rambled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as his flannel brushed to the side.

y/n only chuckled, “why on earth does he make you uncomfortable?” their question makes finn fidget a bit, “he just… i’m so sure he likes me. it’s obvious. sharing a room with him is like sharing a room with a girl that likes me.” y/n gave him a weird look, “okay, i’ll pretend you didn’t just compare kurt to a girl and that you think he likes you-” “i’m not thinking it! he does!” they sighed, “right. look, if it bothers you that much, sleep in the living room. it isn’t that complicated, finn.” finn huffed and nodded as they entered the choir room.

he sat beside tina, who was looking a little off today and that’s when it clicked. “you aren’t wearing your usual goth look, t. what happened?” y/n asked her as they sat beside finn, “figgins thinks she’s a vampire and said if she wore goth any time soon, she’d get suspended.” mercedes explained, “what.” y/n deadpanned, in disbelief that their principal actually believes vampires are real.

“it’s so weird.” “this so isn’t you.” artie and finn commented, “i feel like an asian branch davidian.” tina expressed woefully, will frowned at her state. “tina, are there any other looks you can try?” mr. schuester’s question started a plenty of suggestions. “biker chick?” “cowgirl?” “hood rat.” “computer programmer!” “cross-country skier.” “catholic schoolgirl?” “a happy-meal, no onions… or a chicken.” everyone looked at brittany with concern before tina had enough of their ideas.

“look, i appreciate it, guys, but it just isn’t me. i know who i am, and i’m not allowed to show it. it’s like communism.” she begrudgingly comments before rachel stomped into the room, fervent as always.

“guys, we have a serious problem. you know, i’ve been doing some deep background on vocal adrenaline-” “isn’t that against the rules?” artie asked her, “no, not at all- or, probably. whatever!” schue shook his head at her answer, but rachel didn’t really seem to care. “anyway, what i figured out, i rooted through the dumpsters behind the carmel auditorium and i found 18 empty boxes of christmas lights.” tina’s eyes widened, “oh, no.” “which led me to joelle fabrics. i asked them about red chantilly lace and they were sold out!” rachel exclaimed and now the girls and kurt looked entirely worried. “oh, sweet jesus.” “oh, my.” mercedes and him commented, a few of the guys looked confused.

mr. schuester looked at rachel, “what?” “they’re doing gaga.” kurt explained while mercedes and rachel expressed how screwed they were. “we should have guessed it. they’re going full out theatricality. they know it’s the easiest way to beat us. damn them!” y/n took a deep breath in, they were definitely screwed.

“what’s up with this gaga dude? he just dresses weird, right? like bowie?” puck’s question made rachel scoff, “lady gaga is a woman! she’s only the biggest pop act to come along in decades! she’s boundary-pushing! the most theatrical performer of our generation, and she changes her looks faster than britt changes sexual partners.” “that’s true.” she agreed as kurt went on a rant about how amazing lady gaga is.

“it makes sense that vocal adrenaline would pay homage. it’s a brilliant move. she’s a perfect fit for them.” artie muttered, “now, hold on a second.” schue spoke up, “we might be able to kill two birds with one stone here. we can help tina find a new look and find a competitive number for regionals.” tina smiled as y/n held her hand encouragingly.

“this week, your assignment: gaga.” a round of whispers filled the room as the girls and kurt began to plot, rachel announced the ideas were coming to her, needing a pen and paper before mr. schuester pointed at his office. the boys, however, didn’t look too happy about it. y/n was pretty neutral on the topic.

after the glee meeting, both finn and y/n walked side-by-side in the hallway as they headed to class. they turned to finn, “you look excited about gaga.” they commented sarcastically but finn didn’t catch that. “what? i’m not-” “i know. i was being sarcastic, you big doof.” y/n smiled, “come on, it isn’t so bad. lady gaga’s got some catchy hits, like just dance.” finn tilted his head, “of course, you don’t know that song. why did i even mention it?” they muttered to themselves, looking around the hallway with a bored expression.

finn let out an annoyed grunt, “why are we always doing the things the girls wanna do?” he wondered out loud, y/n pressed their lips into a firm line. “well, if that’s how you feel, then why don’t you express it to mr. schue? i’m sure he’ll understand your point of view. sometimes.” the tall boy nodded, slowly smiling. “maybe i will.” he simply said before turning back around to head to mr. schuester’s office. “aaand there he goes.” y/n quietly commented, continuing their journey to history class.

gaga week had gone extremely well, other than karofsky and azimio picking on tina and kurt, and rachel finding out that vocal adrenaline’s coach was her mom. finn had also convinced mr. schue to allow the boys to do a song by the band kiss instead of lady gaga.

y/n was getting text spams and long rants every five minutes from finn about how much of a hassle it was to live with kurt, it was honestly starting to get on their nerves. they didn’t care about it much until they got a text from the quarterback saying he had called kurt a slur when he was blinded by rage.

finn drove to their house and was immediately met with an upset face. “i cannot believe you called him that!” they yelled as finn fell onto their bed with his hands on his face, “i know, dude. i feel really bad about it, too.” he groaned in frustration, mad at himself for being such a jerk.

“i wanna make it up to him, but i just don’t know how.” finn muttered, staring up at their bedroom’s ceiling. y/n fiddled with their oversized t-shirt before their eyes lingered on a specific costume that was hung on their closet door; their gaga costume. y/n smirked, “i have an idea.” they slyly turned towards their best friend who raised his head up with a questionable look on his face.

with that, they spent the entire night fashioning up a theatricality costume for the boy as a way to show his support for kurt and that he was different from the other guys on the football team who would judge and scrutinise everything the glee club did.

the next day, since it was the end of the week, everyone had decided to go to school in their costumes. y/n didn’t mind but it was a bit uncomfortable to get to and from class in white latex tights.

“woah! guys, why are you all in your theatricality costumes?” mr. schue asked as he walked into the choir room, “it’s the end of the week. we were kind of hoping to learn what the lesson of the assignment was.” artie told him, “well, um, you guys have had some great numbers this week but i’m not sure that i know either.” he confessed and the rest of the club chuckled with him before a voice spoke up.

“i do.” tina walked into the room in her usual goth attire, “goth tina! you’re back!” y/n exclaimed, beaming at her. the girl smiled at their enthusiasm, “i refuse to dress like somebody i’m not to be somebody i’m not, and i learned it’s good to be a little theatrical.” she said before taking a bow as everyone applauded. “there she is! she’s back!” mr. schue encouragingly announced, patting her on the back.

artie looked around amidst all the cheering, realising that two people were missing. “wait, where’s kurt? and where’s finn?” his question made everyone look around, before the revelation hit y/n. “guys, we need to go find them. now.” the entire club ventured out together through the hallways to find the two guys, which they did.

“oh my god.” “what is finn wearing?” santana stated and quinn asked, in shock. “he wanted to make up for something he did to kurt so i helped him with his gaga costume.” y/n explained, “problem was that we could only use this old shower curtain i found in my attic.” they added, snickering at the sight of their friend wearing a red, rubber-looking dress. they walked towards them as they noticed karofsky and azimio were once again bullying them. “‘cause i’m pretty sure we can take the both of you.” “yeah, but can you take all of us?” puck quipped as they backed finn up.

“okay. okay, i get it. i took biology. you know what, karofsky? we done disturbed the freak hive! the worker freaks is trying to protect the queen freak.” azimio mocked, “next time, we’ll bring some friends, too.” karofsky threatened before the two jocks walked away from the group.

rachel took off her shades, “i’m tired of everyone calling us freaks.” she complained, “well, look at us. we are freaks.” mercedes joked as everyone laughed along. finn smiled at this, “but we’re all freaks together, and we shouldn’t have to hide it.” he told them before sudden clapping attracted their attention.

“nice job, finn. think you just figured out what the lesson was, kinda makes me wish i’d planned it.” mr. schue joked, “but mercedes is right, you do all look incredibly insane.” y/n smiled and turned to finn, high-fiving one another. “told you my plan would work.” they whispered to him as he rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah. you’re always right, i get it.” y/n only punched him lightly on his shoulder as they all began to walk back to the choir room.

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fannyyann · 2 years ago

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Matthew Tkachuk, the Panthers’ goalie-goading throwback, delivers hits — and wins — when it counts

by Hailey Salvian and Jeremy Rutherford

Matthew Tkachuk put his father in “timeout.”

That’s why Keith Tkachuk, an 18-year veteran of the NHL and one of the league’s best American-born players, wasn’t available to talk about his son’s remarkable run that has taken the Panthers from “biggest disappointment” to one win from the Eastern Conference finals.

On a Toronto radio station in March, the elder Tkachuk called the Panthers “soft.” By many accounts, that assessment was accurate at the time, and the words seemed to light a fire under the team — as did Paul Maurice’s tirade on the bench the same day during a game against the Maple Leafs.

Florida won its next six games and went 6-1-1 down the stretch to qualify for the playoffs.

Now, there’s no time for distractions, and Matthew wants to keep a lid on his pops, who informed The Athletic of his “timeout” via text.

After upsetting the 65-win Bruins in the first round, the Panthers are the betting favorites to win the Stanley Cup, leading 3-0 in their second-round series against Toronto with a chance at a sweep Wednesday at FLA Live Arena.

And the 25-year-old Tkachuk — in the midst of another career year that would have been MVP-worthy had it not been for Connor McDavid’s otherworldly season — has led the way, from scoring game-winning goals and delivering rousing speeches in the room, to delivering cross checks and goading goaltenders into fights.

He’s the player people love to hate, and he’s building a following of haters as he pushes the Panthers along in the postseason.

And even though the person who’s been most influential in Matthew’s career isn’t talking, others are. The Athletic spoke with a dozen people who for years have tracked Tkachuk’s brand of hockey — he’s a highly skilled agitator (a modest 6-2, 201 pounds) who opponents hate to play against.

Keith — known as ‘Walt,’ a nickname given to him by Winnipeg Jets teammate Eddie Olczyk because his surname was so similar to former Ranger Walter Tkaczuk — was traded to the Blues in 2001. Matthew, only 3 years old at the time, would start playing hockey with a youth program in St. Louis. Let’s just say he wasn’t a phenom.

Chantal Tkachuk, Matthew’s mom: They thought they were getting this ringer of a kid. We went to his first game and he was terrible. He was by far the worst player on the ice.

But that wouldn’t last long. Tkachuk improved steadily, adding a diverse skillset, and working through minor hockey, the U.S. national team program and the Ontario Hockey League.

Jimmy O’Brien, longtime family friend, owns OB Clark’s bar in St. Louis: They had a goal in their backyard, and 50 pucks would be lying in the driveway. Anytime you pulled up to the back of the house, you had to watch from running over the pucks because the driveway was littered with them.

Jon Benne, longtime family friend and strength trainer: I used to take wrist shots at him, and he’d knock them into the net. So when I see him tip a goal in now, I’ve seen that a million times.

Jordan Janes, St. Louis Junior Blues coach (2009-10): Matthew would do some of these between-the-legs (moves) before anybody was doing that. I would always look over at Keith and smile because in my mind I’m thinking, “Holy s— ,” like this is incredible that a 14-year-old is doing this. But you could tell that Keith, who was a “go to the net hard” type of guy, it drove him crazy.

O’Brien: His father told him, “If you ever do that stuff in a game and it doesn’t work, you won’t get off the bench.”

Taryn Tkachuk, sister: He’s not going to do that stuff just to do it. The through-the-legs goal against Nashville, he was like, “There was no way I could’ve shot that regularly.” He practiced that all growing up, so he knows he’s going to be able to do it.

Rob Simpson, assistant general manager of the London Knights: He would try new things all the time. It speaks to how smart a player he is. He was always trying to be creative in different ways to produce or make plays based on what he is seeing against defenders or what they’ve done against him before. He’s always been a creative, out-of-the-box thinker.

There are elements of Tkachuk’s game that can be traced back to the fact that he is Keith Tkachuk’s son.

Don Granato, Tkachuk’s coach with the U.S. National Team Development Program (2013-15): I think you can give some credit to — if not genetics, then just being around his father over the years.

Chantal Tkachuk: When Keith was still playing, they got to go down to the rink, skate after practice. Some of the players would play around with them.

O’Brien: He was a rink rat. He was always hanging around his dad, always going to his practices.

Barret Jackman, Blues defenseman (2002-15): I remember the coaches would have to come by and say, “Hey Walt, practice was supposed to start 10 minutes ago. Can you get Matthew off the ice?”

Benne: Matthew would be sitting on the bench the whole practice, and Keith would come over and say, “Watch T.J. Oshie. Watch how he goes into that corner and comes out.” Matthew would just be sitting there with a helmet on, just absorbing it all.

O’Brien: It’s hard to get a better education in the hockey world than sitting there with professionals and watching them at a young age.

Chantal Tkachuk: Every night, we always watched hockey. The boys would get up before school and the first thing they would do is turn on NHL Network.

Taryn Tkachuk: That was the only thing we really watched on TV. We never really watched other shows on Disney channel.

Chantal Tkachuk: Keith retired in 2010 and stepped away from his career and took almost five years off. In that time, he totally devoted all his time to youth hockey. That happened to align with the most important developmental years of the boys’ lives.

Janes: Keith knew what it took to get there. He demanded a work ethic out of his boys. Goals or not, assists or not, he just wanted to see you work. If you worked, Keith was happy. He knew if you did that, everything else would come.

O’Brien: One of Walt’s favorite things to say is, “Hey, you didn’t win? Play better!”

Taryn Tkachuk: Oh, he says it all the time. If someone didn’t play as well and maybe they’re complaining, like, “The ref did this or that,” or, “The other team wasn’t letting me do this,” my dad is just like, “Play better!” Nothing else. It’s just “Play better!”

Janes: That quote is the most Keith quote I’ve ever heard.

Growing up, Matthew was always competing with his brother Brady (23), and sister Taryn (20). Whether it was roller hockey, basketball or a made-up game they called “trampoline football.”

Benne: Matthew, Brady and Taryn would be on the trampoline, which was enclosed, and I would throw the football in the air as high as I could into the trampoline. It became an MMA wrestling match to see who got the football.

Taryn Tkachuk: I don’t even know how the game got made up. I just remember it being very physical. Literally whoever had the ball, you were about to get decked.

O’Brien: We were playing a two-on-two basketball game, and there were some of the most violent fouls you’ll ever see in your life. I had a bloody nose when we were done.

Taryn Tkachuk: If we were playing basketball, Matthew would never let me just go in for an easy layup. Of course he was going to foul me.

Jackman: I remember during one of the lockouts, Matthew was 15 at the time, and he skated with some of the NHL guys. I went into the corner with him, thinking I was going to play him hard. He tried to reverse hit me, and then he came out of the corner with the puck on his stick. He didn’t back down, even at 15, and I was in my early 30s.

Chantal Tkachuk: The most somebody hates to lose, that would be him.

Tkachuk committed to play at the USA Hockey National Team Development Program a few years before his first season there. But, at 16 years old, there was a learning curve playing with the national team and in the USHL, an under-20 league. In his first USHL season, he scored only 17 points in 33 games. He would double that production one year later in fewer games.

Granato: We knew of his talent, but in his first year, his production wasn’t there.

Nick Fohr, U.S. NTDP associate coach (2013-15): He wouldn’t shoot it. He literally wanted to show off those hands all the time.

Granato: I would tease him a bit. I’d say, “Hey Matthew, do you like to score?” And he’d say, “Yeah.” And I’d say, “No, you like to stickhandle.” He was so good at it, but I needed him to see that he wasn’t going to be that up-and-down-the-rink player.

Fohr: He wanted to have that agitator piece to him because it was kind of ingrained into him at that point, but he wasn’t big enough or strong enough to do any of that stuff at 16 years old.

Chantal Tkachuk: It was the second year in the program. That was the point where we thought he could make it.

Fohr: He played most of his second year with Auston Matthews and Jack Roslovic, which was an unreal line. Auston was the marked man, and Matthew — after being around his dad — was like, well, “Auston is my center, nobody is touching him.” And he started to become that guy. Any little scrum, he was right in the middle of it to make sure that his teammates were taken care of.

Granato: By the midpoint of the second year, he was playing just like he plays in the NHL right now. He was great in the same areas of the ice, great in the same ways.

In the 2016 Memorial Cup Final, the London Knights were in overtime against the Rouyn-Noranda Huskies. Tkachuk, in his first (and only) season in the OHL, took the puck up the left side, toe-dragged around a defender and scored the game-winning goal.

Aaron Berisha, London Knights teammate: At first, it looked like he was on a harmless rush.

Simpson: Matthew could always elevate at the right times.

Robert Thomas, Knights teammate (2015-16), and family friend: We always joked that Christian Dvorak actually tipped it, but obviously Matthew got all the credit for it. Just a big-time player making a big-time play.

Simpson: It’s not just by coincidence that he’s big in the right moments. He puts in the work.

Fohr: He’s in those moments because it’s just who he is. You saw it on the overtime goal against Boston. He knows somebody’s got to go in there and get the puck, somebody’s got to go screen the goalie.

Simpson: He wasn’t the one who shot it in the net, but if he didn’t have the sense and savvy to pop out and screen the goalie, it doesn’t go in.

Fohr: It’s no surprise that you see him do it in overtime in Game 7 because he does it every shift, every game.

Janes: The way Matthew was (growing up) and the way he is today, he will do what it takes for his team to win a hockey game. Period.

Because of his ability to stir up drama on the ice and (at times) cross the line, Tkachuk is one of the most polarizing players in the league.

Fohr: He’s that guy that everybody hates unless he’s on your team.

Benne: I don’t think Matthew came into the league fearing anybody. He just played with that edge, like, “I’m here, I’ve arrived, and look out!”

Granato: He could stoke a situation and get it stoked and get everybody’s emotions running on overdrive. And then, even in a highly emotional state that he stirred up, he will execute where many, many skilled players cannot.

Fohr: If he’s agitated somebody somehow, now a little bit of their focus is on Matthew and it takes just a little bit of focus off what they’re good at and impacts so much of the game.

Granato: It’s like a diversionary tactic, and a highly effective skill that he brings. He’s always ready to score the goal after he disrupts the situation, where other guys just want to take his head off. He never loses sight of, OK, while you’re trying to do that, I’m going to be scoring a goal.

Benne: He’s just going to play hard. He’s going to hit you, and he expects to get hit himself. If you watch that game against Toronto, he hammered two guys, and then he got hammered. Not whining, that’s the way the game goes. That’s the way he plays. He’s pretty fearless out there, but I think he plays right on the line. That’s where he wants to be.

Thomas: It was in full force in London. He’d always find himself mixing it up. He’s feisty and he’s got all the skill in the world. Some people just have it, and he definitely has it.

Berisha: It’s funny when people play against him and say, “Man, I hate playing against him, he seems terrible.” He’s actually one of the best guys ever.

Taryn Tkachuk: Matthew has this switch. Off the ice, he’s a completely different person: super nice, super fun. Once he steps on the ice, the switch just goes off and he puts on these different goggles and just has this compete level that you don’t even know how to explain.

The most common ways to describe Tkachuk: He’s a throwback. He’s a unicorn. He’s just like Keith … and maybe better.

Eddie Olczyk, TNT analyst, former teammate of Keith (1991-96): You see (Matthew) and it’s like turning back the clock 25, 30 years to when we played with each other in Winnipeg.

O’Brien: Walt played in an extremely physical era, and the way Matthew plays is refreshing because it’s a throwback to how it was all the time.

Janes: One thing Keith taught these boys at a young age was, if you want to score, you’ve got to be around the net. They got that right from Keith. They just took it a step further as far as their skillset goes.

Fohr: It’s just a place he’s not afraid to go to. Some players are. They don’t want to go there because it’s a hard area to play in because the D are big and strong. There’s an art to getting there and doing it the right way and Matthew has mastered it.

O’Brien: When Walt was playing, you’d see a big guy out there and you wouldn’t think a guy like that has deft hands. But Walt had sick hands, especially tipping pucks. And that’s one of Matthew’s strengths, too.

Olczyk: Matthew will make a play and you go, “Well, there’s Walt.” It’s eerie, but it’s not surprising that the boys are a chip off the old block.

Chantal Tkachuk: To this day, they tease me because skating has always been Matthew’s deficiency, so they make fun of the fact that I taught him how to skate. Keith will take credit for everything else.

Granato: Matthew plays the same kind of style as his dad. He just does it with more talent.

Fohr: To be a thorn in the side of the opponents and then have that elite ability on top of it, that’s pretty special.

Simpson: It’s very hard to find hockey sense that is that elite but also comes with the poise to make the play when it matters most.

Taryn Tkachuk: He’s literally doing every single aspect of what different players bring in a hockey game. It just makes him so unique.

Benne: Matthew doesn’t care what the media writes about him. Matthew doesn’t care if the fans boo him. Boston is going to hate him now, and Toronto is going to hate him after this series. But that’s what drives him. He wants to perform. He wants to put on a show. But more important than anything, he just wants to win.

#matthew tkachuk #for those without an atheltic subscription #because this profile is golden

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