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austinbutlerslovers · 3 days ago

Text

CEO Daddy

Label Mature 18+

Summary Your boss decides it’s time for a vacation after a stressful year —using you as his stress relief.

🔗 Masterlist

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 CEO x Secretary •powerplay dynamics •pleasure trip • sexcation •sex on a desk •clitplay •oral on fem• sub Austin• hair pulling • lap riding • restraint • choking fetish • orgasms • aftercare

🫦Smut Consultant 👑 @peggyao3 🥵 🙇🏻‍♀️ 💕 Dedicated to @soft-mama-reads @aust-een @eternal-love @psycheetamore @dunevitani @austinbutlerfly. *Fic inspo 🌸 beautiful comments 🌸

CEO Daddy

After a particularly stressful year, with his successful merger and the finality of his divorce, Austin decides it’s time for a break. He relies on you, his most trusted secretary, who’s not only helped him manage every detail of his company but has also been his quiet support navigating his personal challenges.

The clicking of his keys slowly ceases as he finishes his last email. He leans back in his chair, exhaling a slow sigh before looking up at you, his expression softening for the first time in what feels like weeks.

“Pack your bags,” he says, his voice smooth yet resolute. “We’re getting away for a while.”

A slow grin spreads across your lips at his decisiveness. “Is that an order, Mr. Butler?” you tease, stepping around his desk, drawn to him without even thinking.

As you come closer, Austin’s gaze shifts, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a quiet depth that makes your heart race.

“It’s mandatory,” he corrects, his tone lower, more intimate as you push his laptop aside, settling directly in front of him spreading your legs apart on his desk.

His eyes drop to the space between your thighs, his fingers trailing down your silk blouse, his touch slow and appreciative.

“We deserve a break,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing over your waist before skimming lower, tracing the curve of your hips.

You tilt your head, running a hand through his sandy blond hair, your fingers sliding lightly through the curls at the nape of his neck. His breath hitches, his blue eyes flicking up to meet yours filled with lust.

“You understand me the way no one else does,” he confesses, his voice softer, his fingers slipping up your thighs, squeezing lightly as he rises from his chair.

You smile up at him gripping his tie and slowly pulling him toward you until his lips meet yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hands squeeze your waist as his body presses between your legs, kissing you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

This is how it all began, the inevitable affair. The lines blurred the moment you let him kiss you, and after that, there was no stopping it.

You live to indulge his every whim, his every desire, anticipating his needs before he even speaks them aloud himself.

His lips catch yours again, teasing, consuming, his hands splayed over your thighs, grounding you on his desk. One thumb strokes over your clit, the subtle pressure making your breath catch, your legs parting instinctively.

Your hand moves between you, slipping your panties aside, and that’s all he needs. His breath shudders against your lips, his control faltering as he kisses down your neck, weak and hungry for more.

His belt comes undone with a sharp clink, his fingers working fast, unzipping his pants in one smooth motion before easing his large cock free.

Your hands roam up his neck, your nails grazing through the curls at his nape—his weakness.

A shiver runs through him, his head dipping forward as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance. A breathy groan spills from his lips as he pushes forward, the stretch making you tense.

A moan spills from your lips, your walls clenching tight and he stills, his grip loosening on your hips as he presses kisses to your jaw, soft and coaxing letting you adjust to the sheer size of him.

Your hand moves between you, your fingers circling your clit, sending surges of pleasure shooting through your core. The sight of you touching yourself, taking him in, makes his jaw clench, as he groans deep from his chest.

His grip retightens, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips push forward, setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure surging through you, his strength keeping you steady as his lips continue to find yours between gasps and moans.

He cups your chin in one hand tilting your face up and capturing your mouth in a reverent kiss, swallowing every sound you make as the pleasure coils tighter, his thrusts hitting deeper, sharper, more precise, pushing you closer to breaking.

And when you finally let go, your head falling back as his name spills from your lips, the pleasure crashes over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly on his cock.

A deep, needy groan fills his chest, his hips jerking as his movements grow faster, less controlled, laced with something desperate, something raw.

Pathetic little grunts spill from his lips, his head tilting back, his breath coming out in short, shallow pants.

“It’s so good—you’re so good,” he rasps, his voice wrecked, needy, completely at your mercy.

You feel it— in the way his body tightens, his muscles flexing against you, the way his breath stutters, his rhythm faltering, his cock twitching deep inside you, betraying just how close he is.

You grip his silk tie, pulling him close until your lips brush against his ear. “Such a good CEO Daddy, taking care of your secretary like this,” you praise, your voice filled with sweet seduction.

The words hit him hard, his entire body responding instantly and your other hand slides up tugging on the curls at his nape just enough to sting, as a desperate, wrecked cry spills from his lips.

You curl his tie around your hand, tightening it just enough to feel the fabric tighten around his throat, the silk taut against his flushed skin.

His Adam’s apple bobs as a raw, choked-off moan breaks from his lips—something between a gasp and a groan, pure and unrestrained.

His hips falter, his body trembling as he fights against the overwhelming pleasure tearing through him.

His flushed face deepens in color, as redness blooms across his cheeks and neck, his chest heaving with shallow, stuttering pants.

His lashes flutter, his blue eyes hazy as you restrain him and he fights against the tension on his neck, until he’s lost in the way you own him in the moment.

His cock throbs violently inside you, pulsing, twitching, his body tightening under your control— completely wrecked, completely yours.

His muscles lock, his hands gripping you tighter as he lets out a deep, shuddering groan, his hips snapping forward in a final, erratic thrust. His jaw goes slack as he comes, his release pulsing deep inside you, his entire body tensing from the force of it.

Slowly, you loosen the knot of his tie, letting the fabric fall slack around his throat.

Before he can even catch his breath, you kiss him immediately, your hands sliding up to cradle his jaw.

He struggles to breathe against your mouth, still panting, still reeling, but he kisses you nonetheless—deep, hungry, desperate to hold onto you just a little longer. For a moment, you stay wrapped around each other, your breaths mingling, the city lights flickering beyond the window a silent witnesses to everything you both surrendered to.

A sleek black car company arrives at your apartment the next morning, and as you settle into the plush leather seat, a sense of excitement rushes through you.

You can’t quite imagine the world Austin exists in—the kind of life he leads outside of his company—but you’re about to see firsthand.

The drive is smooth, the city changing into the coast. As you approach the marina, the view opens to a collection of yachts, each one grander than the last. But none compare to the one waiting at the farthest dock.

It’s not a yacht —it’s a mega yacht

Your heart skips a beat.

The car pulls to a stop, and as you step out, your gaze finds him immediately.

Austin stands near the dock railing, effortlessly poised, his back to you as he takes in the water.

The ocean breeze ruffles through his sandy blonde hair, his tan Yves Saint Laurent suit impeccably tailored matching the Yves St.Laurent sunglasses perched on his nose adding to his effortless elegance

With his handsome features, catching the last rays of the sun he exudes a quiet power—calm, commanding, utterly at ease in his world of wealth.

When he turns to face you, his expression softens and as he smiles, your heart races slightly.

He’s handsome, undeniably so. But more than that, there’s something magnetic about him—something that makes you feel like the world narrows to just the two of you when he is near.

“You made it.” He grins, pulling you in and pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips.

You meet his beautiful blue eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trail through his sandy blond hair. “Of course, Mr. Butler,” you tease, your voice warm. “Your secretary always takes care of you, doesn’t she?”

His smirk deepens at the playful edge in your tone, his hand taking yours as he turns toward the yacht. Its sheer size is staggering—sleek, towering, and pristine, a floating palace on the water.

As you step forward, absorbing the scene around you, a full crew waits in line along the dock. A chef, a maid, a steward, a captain—and even more unseen . A deckhand, an engineer, a personal concierge, even a massage therapist. Every attendant on the dock is poised with quiet professionalism, their respect for Austin evident in the way they stand at attention.

You glance at Austin, still in disbelief. “All this for you?”

The corners of his mouth lift, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “For us,” he corrects, his voice rich with certainty.

With his hand resting firmly at the small of your back, he guides you up the gangway. The scent of salt and polished teak fills the air, the gentle sway of the yacht beneath your feet a quiet promise of the luxury and indulgence that awaits.

Before you even step aboard, your bags are taken care of, disappearing into the lavish interior before you can even think about them.

Inside the Yacht the main floor is a vision of opulence. The walls gleam with warm oak paneling, offset by plush ivory furnishings.

Glass doors stretch from floor to ceiling, revealing the ocean beyond. A grand spiral staircase leads to the upper levels, while an open lounge area seats deep leather sofas, a marble bar stocked with rare liquors, and a grand piano gleaming in the corner.

“Austin,” you breathe, still processing the sheer size of it all.

He only watches you, hands in his pockets, amused at your reaction.

“Come with me,” he says, leading you down a hallway lined with abstract artwork.

He opens a set of doubles doors stepping aside so you can take in the stateroom—his bedroom.

The space is nothing short of a sanctuary. A massive king-sized bed with crisp Egyptian cotton sheets dominates the room, positioned against a padded suede headboard. Soft lighting glows from beneath the furniture, casting a golden hue.

At the far end, a wall of glass doors leads to a private deck, the ocean stretching infinitely beyond it. A walk-in closet larger than most apartments sits to one side, while an ensuite bathroom holds a soaking tub, a rainfall shower, and marble countertops lined with luxury skincare.

And then, there’s the iPad.

You pick it up, curiosity piqued, and scroll through its customized settings.

•Sleep: natural rhythm.

•Music Preferences: Your favorite artists already uploaded.

•Meal Preferences: Notes on your favorite dishes, ingredients, even your preferred coffee order.

You glance at Austin, stunned. “You did all this?”

His hands settle on your waist, his voice steady. “I pay attention.” He says.

You grin, tilting your head up as you close the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a slow lingering kiss.

It’s soft at first filled with all you’re appreciation and when Austin deepens it, you suddenly feel it everywhere.

His lips press against yours with purpose, his tongue gliding out, tracing your bottom lip for entry

You part for him, allowing him in, and the second his tongue strokes against yours a rush of pleasure shoots down your spine.

His tongue moves in deep, languid strokes, teasing, exploring, making you feel every second of it

A soft, pleased sound escapes you against his lips as your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, needing something to hold onto.

A soft knock interrupts, breaking the moment as you and Austin pull back from the kiss “ I forgot our little surprise.” he says.

As he opens the door a steward awaits with two glasses of chilled champagne.

“To celebrate “ Austin grins and takes a glass, offering the other to you

“To getting away after a stressful year,” he says, lifting his glass in a quiet toast. You smile, tapping your glass against his, the crisp chime of crystal filling the air.

“We deserve a break,” you grin, repeating his own words and taking a slow sip of champagne feeling the tingling against your lips before drinking it down smoothly.

Austin watches you for a moment, then drains his glass in one slow pull. Without another word, he takes your hand, his grip warm and certain, leading you toward the bow. “I want to show you the best view” he says.

The yacht begins to move, gliding out of the harbor and into the open sea as you reach the bow. The water shifts from a deep sapphire to a boundless dark blue, the city skyline shrinking in the distance.

Austin steps behind you poised at the railing, his warmth solid against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist. The salty air brushes your skin as you exhale, finally feeling the tension leaving your body.

“You see yourself living like this more often?” he asks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You smile, tilting your head slightly. “I could definitely get used to a life like this.” you confess and he grins pressing a slow, lingering kiss behind your ear that makes you smile.

As the sun sets, dinner is served on the upper deck. The ocean turns black, an endless void stretching beneath a sky speckled with stars.

The table is set with candlelight, and before you sits a perfectly prepared lobster, the scent of butter and herbs filling the air.

You wear a dress that catches Austin’s eye, a silk, elegant, backless gown that hugs your curves in all the right places. His gaze darkens as he watches you, his appreciation obvious.

A steward pours wine into crystal glasses, the deep red liquid catching the light.

Austin lifts his glass, his eyes steady on yours in a toast.

“To you,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “For everything this year.”

You lift your glass, meeting his gaze as you clink yours against his, the soft chime of crystal ringing through air.

Bringing the rim to your lips, you take a sip, the rich notes of dark fruit and oak lingering on your tongue, the warmth spreading through you.

You meet his gaze, knowing exactly what he means. It hasn’t been an easy year for either of you, with his sudden divorce and recent merger, and yet, you had been there through it all.

In this peaceful moment, you can see through the layers of who he is— the powerful CEO, the man who keeps everything in control—and the one looking at you now, seeking, searching for something more.

“I’m glad I could be here for you,” you say, your voice steady, despite the flutter in your chest.

Austin smiles, a small, almost shy smile.

For a moment, there is no need for words. The quiet bond between you is all that matters.

After dinner you both enter the master stateroom, the ocean hums against the hull, a soothing, rhythmic sound that fills the opulent space.

The room is bathed in blue moonlight, casting soft shadows over the suede paneled walls and sleek ebony furnishings.

A marble fireplace flickers with a low flame, its warmth subtle against the cool sea air drifting through the slightly open balcony doors.

Austin watches you as you glide across his room, your fingers trailing absentmindedly over the solid crystal plaque mounted on a sleek ebony pedestal with a prestigious award engraved with his name

Your eyes roam the room, taking in the understated elegance of his personal space—the place where he sleeps, where he unwinds from the weight of his empire.

Your backless dress dips low, revealing the delicate curve of your waist, the fabric clinging to your hips before pooling at your feet. Austin follows the motion as you slowly pace the room, his gaze dark and intensely observant.

“You did so much for me this year,” he confides, his voice quieter now, reverent, thoughtful. His hands rest in his pockets, but there’s something in the way he holds himself—open, vulnerable, unguarded.

His throat works around the words, his jaw tensing before he continues. “You helped me in more ways than I ever thought possible.”he says, his voice softer. “And I want to make sure you know that I appreciate you—more than words can really convey.”

You pause, the weight of his admission settling between you like an unspoken promise.

Then, you turn just enough to glance at him your eyes catching his ,seeing his expression unwavering with the sincerity of his words

You pause, your voice filled with certainty.

“There’s still so much more I want to do for you, Austin,” you confess, your voice laced with intent, heavy with meaning.

You cross the distance between you, watching as his chest rises and falls a little deeper, his breath slowing, his eyes locked onto yours.

The moment your bodies touch, his hands find you, sliding up, fingertips ghosting over the silk of your backless dress, tracing the exposed curve of your spine.

You find the nape of his neck, threading your fingers into the soft strands of his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath catch.

You kiss him, slow at first, languid, teasing, drawing him in only to slip away. His lips chase yours, desperate for more, but you pull back slightly, just as he tries to kiss you again, your breath warm against his lips. “Let me take care of you.” You whisper.

His jaw clenches, his breath uneven as his eyes flicker with something unspoken, something deeper.

“I want that— I want you,” he admits, his voice strained with desire.

His hands find your hips, fingers digging in just enough to remind you who he is, how much he wants you.

Your hand drifts lower, fingers slipping into the slight part in his pristine white button-up, the thin stripes barely visible under the low light.

With a single, measured pull you guide him forward, leading him toward the bed as he follows your silent command.

When you reach the bed, you push him down, making him sit.

His hands grip the mattress as he tilts his head up and the way he looks at you —as if he’s already lost in you, as if he’s willing to let you strip him of everything he controls—sends a thrill through you.

Slowly, methodically, you begin to undress him.

First, you unfasten the buttons of his YSL dress shirt, exposing the smooth, golden skin of his collarbone.

As his white shirt falls open you push it from his shoulders, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the way his breath deepens betraying how much he wants you.

Next, your fingers move to his belt pulling the leather through the loops with a soft whispering hiss before placing it on the bed.

The tan fabric of his slacks feels impossibly expensive beneath your touch. You pop open the button, dragging down the zipper with the slowest pull, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your palm.

You kneel down to remove his dress shoes , watching the way he looks at you—his eye hungry, waiting and willing to let you take everything from him tonight.

By the time he’s sitting naked before you, stripped of his power, his influence, his carefully controlled persona, he looks up at you with something close to devotion.

And you know—you have him exactly where you want him.

Your fingers take the leather belt resting on the bed, lifting it slowly, intentionally.

His eyes track the movement, his body tense with anticipation as you loop the belt around his neck, securing it just enough to stay in place.

He swallows hard, his jaw tightening, his muscles flexing as the cool leather presses against his throat.

You tilt your head, watching him with amusement in your eyes.

“Such a powerful CEO,” you muse your finger gliding along the leather at his throat.

“A man with infinite wealth and influence—feared in boardrooms, respected across industries.”

You step back as your grip on the belt tightens.

“And yet, your brought down on your knees by a mere secretary.”

Before he can react you give the belt a sharp tug.

His breath catches, his body falling forward on his knees after the pull.

You smile tilting his chin up with a single finger, letting the belt stay snug around his neck, watching how his breath hitches, his pupils blown wide, completely, undone, completely yours.

“Pull up my dress.” You direct.

He obeys, his hands sliding up your thighs, bunching the silky fabric higher until your fingers hold it in place. His own pausing as he reaches for the delicate lace beneath.

“Take them off.” You order.

Without hesitation he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs.

The feel of his breath is warm on your skin as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs already knowing what’s next.

His eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you utterly willing to ruin himself for you.

“Such a commanding CEO,” you praise, your nails grazing his scalp just enough to make him shiver. “Always in charge and in control, isn’t that right?” You purr, threading your fingers in his hair tugging just enough to make him groan.

“But not tonight.” You pause, letting the words settle between you, “Tonight, you’re going to please me until I’m satisfied for all of my hard work this year.”

His response is instant, a deep desperate groan filled with need from his chest.

You give the belt a sharp tug bringing his face forward and he buries himself between your thighs, his mouth latching onto you with an eagerness that makes your breath stutter.

His hands spread against the backs of your legs, holding you open, holding you still, as he devours you with long, slow strokes of his tongue, then sharper, hungrier ones.

The first lick of his tongue makes your head fall back, a breathy gasp escaping your lips. The next has your fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, deeper.

“Austin!” you gasp, looking down at him, watching the way his broad shoulders flex, the way his biceps tighten as he grips you, anchoring himself to you in the moment.

His mouth works harder, faster, sucking, teasing, flicking his tongue in devastating rhythms. Your thighs start to tremble, pleasure coiling tight, and he feels it—he knows it—because he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp.

“Oh —Austin.” You moan your voice breathless.

He groans again—wrecked, desperate, lost in the act of pleasing you.

And when the pleasure finally snaps, when your body shudders against his mouth, your thighs tense as a broken moans spills from your lips. He drags you through every last wave, his tongue relentless, drinking in every shudder, every gasp, every whimper until you’re panting, spent, body trembling in his grasp.

Finally, you release your dress as he pulls back, looking up at you. His lips are swollen, glistening with evidence of just how thoroughly he’s pleased you. His chest rises and falls, his muscles taut, hands still gripping your thighs like he can’t bear to let go.

You run your fingers lazily through his hair as you slowly recover.

“Good boy.” You praise, the words so beneath his status they make him shudder.

You tighten your grip on the belt, pulling with just enough force to make him obey.

“Stand up.” You direct, the belt working around his throat as he rises to his full height.

His muscles are tense, his, chest rising and falling beneath the pale glow of the moonlight. But your eyes wander lower, seeing the way his cock stands thick and hard between his legs. His impressive length is flushed, impossibly pink, leaking, a single bead of precum at the tip.

You press a hand to his hip, firm, controlling, guiding him backward. He walks as you direct, his body tight with need, his thighs tense, his cock swaying with every motion, thick and desperate for attention.

The backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and with a firm push, you make him sit.

His breath catches, his eyes flicking up to you, dark with anticipation, his fingers gripping the sheets as if bracing himself for what’s to come.

Slowly you release the belt, letting it fall over his back still looped around his throat, and you step away watching the way his chest rises and falls, the way his cock stands firmly aching in his lap.

His eyes never leave you, tracking your every movement with a hunger that borders on reverence as you pull the delicate straps of your silk dress slipping them from your shoulders, letting fabric fall at your feet.

A sharp breath leaves him seeing your nakedness, his fingers twitching against the sheets, his jaw clenching as his gaze darkens with raw lust, wanting to get up and take you right there.

You step forward, closing the space between you, climbing onto his lap, straddling him. His breath stutters, his hands instinctively finding your hips, his cock pressing against you, hot and rigid.

His lips part, but before he can speak, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

He exhales a low, needy sound against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips like he wants to take control—but you don’t let him. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss dragging your lips over his, coaxing, demanding.

By the time you pull back, he’s a mess—his lips flushed and deep pink, slick and swollen from your kiss.

“You’ve been so good for me,” you whisper, your lips trailing lower, pressing warm kisses along his throat, feeling his pulse thrum beneath your mouth. “It’s only right that I give you what you need.”

His groan is deep, guttural, almost pained as you lower yourself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, feeling the stretch, the slow, maddening slide as he fills you completely.

His fingers dig into your hips, his breath coming out in a sharp, shattered exhale as he watches you, needing you—completely at your mercy.

You start slow, rolling your hips, feeling every inch of him inside you, dragging him deeper, making him feel it. His jaw tightens, a shuddering breath escaping him as his hands grip you tighter.

Every push, every roll of your hips sends another soft moan from him as the belt metal clicks skimming his back, a teasing reminder of who is in control.

“Fuck—” he groans, his voice wrecked, raw, his hands flexing on your waist like he’s holding himself back from taking over, from flipping you beneath him and losing himself completely.

You ride him harder, pushing deeper, your own pleasure mounting with every movement, every desperate noise you makes, every soft moan that falls from your lips bringing you both closer to the edge.

His body trembles beneath you, his breath coming in uneven gasps, his muscles straining as he tries to last, to keep from giving in too soon.

You feel it—the way his cock throbs inside you, the way his restraint starts to crumble.

And when your own release begins to peak, your body tensing, shuddering with pleasure, you gather the belt in your hand pulling it around his throat at its tightest.

His breath catches, his pupils blown wide at the sensation of being strangled.

All his wealth, his power, his influence— everything he is, everything he’s built, is all stripped away, reduced to this one fleeting moment as the world narrows in front of his eyes.

He’s helpless, undone, his body tense and trembling as you take him deeper, riding him harder to make him come.

Every roll of your hips sends sparks racing through you, your pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter. You grind down on him, stretching yourself around his cock, reveling in the perfect friction.

As the tension inside you snaps a moan rips from your throat, sharp and raw, your thighs shaking as your body clenches around him feeling waves of pleasure break over you.

His body shudders, his hips barely thrusting, as he chokes seeing stars, his muscles tensing as his eyes roll up feeling the indescribable pleasure of being strangulated on his neck and his cock simultaneously.

You feel every throb, every desperate twitch, as his cock pulses deep inside of you, his come thick and hot, spreading through your core filling you completely until his body goes slack utterly spent.

You release the belt, and his lungs drag in a deep labored gasp, his chest heaving as reality slowly filters back in.

His pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips as you slide the belt from around his neck.

You gasp seeing the deep crimson mark blooming across his tan skin, stretching from one side of his throat to the other.

His chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, his muscles twitching from the aftershocks of what just happened to him.

The faintest sheen of perspiration clings to his him, trailing down to his toned abs, his kiss-bitten lips slightly parted as he gasps for breath.

But that mark— red, hot, and unmistakable— pulls at something deep inside of you.

Quickly you slide off his cock and climb from his lap scanning the room in search of something to soothe the lingering marks forming on his skin.

You press a few low recessed panels, fingers sweeping over the smooth, expensive finish, before one finally clicks open to reveal a hidden mini fridge.

Inside a glittering collection of top-shelf liquor and rare vintage bottles gleam under the soft, ambient lighting.

Without thinking, you reach in and grab the first thing your fingers close around— a chilled bottle of champagne, the label alone telling you it’s worth well over than a thousand dollars.

Returning to Austin, you gently guide him to lie flat against the bed, his broad, sweat-slicked chest rising and falling as he watches you through half-lidded eyes.

“You poor baby,” you coo, voice filled with affection as you bring the icy glass bottle to his neck.

The moment the chilled surface meets his overheated skin, he groans— low, rough,utterly wrecked.

His eyes flutter closed, his lashes dark against his flushed cheeks, his lips parting just enough to exhale a shaky breath.

“Oh you poor thing ,” you pout, stroking his damp hair back from his forehead before pressing a lingering kiss there.

His fingers twitch against the sheets before he blindly reaches for you, finding your hand and bringing it to his lips.

When his mouth kisses your knuckles, you slide your hand to his cheek.

The way he sighs, leaning into your touch, utterly devoted to you in this moment, sends a slow warmth spreading through your chest.

“You take such good care of me,” he breathes, his voice rasping and hoarse.

“I think—” He swallows, his throat bobbing beneath the cooling glass. “I think I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, you just stare at him—his face still rosy from exertion, his hair tousled from your fingers, his body helpless and spent.

He looks completely and utterly undone.

And yet he’s never looked more beautiful.

You set the champagne bottle aside and crawl back over him, straddling his waist. His hands immediately find your thighs, fingers kneading in as if grounding himself.

You lean down, lips grazing the mark on his throat, where the belt left its proof. His breath hitches, fingers twitching against your skin as you press a kiss to it.

“You think you’re in love with me?” you repeat, playing with the words, testing them as you tilt his chin so he can meet your gaze.

He nods, his blue eyes dark with something reverent. “Yeah. I am.” He confesses.

You smile as you lower your lips to his in a slow deep kiss, drinking in the taste of him— the lingering salt on his skin, the faintest remnants of wine on his tongue.

When you finally pull back, he’s staring at you like you’ve just rewritten the fabric of his universe.

“You’ll never forget this, will you?” you whisper as you stroke his jaw.

His smile is lazy, adoring. “Not in a million years.”

END 🛥️

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badbtssmut · 1 year ago

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no.11

Taehyung free using his girlfriend's bestie in a 1 week vacation even infront of her, which is a gift by his gf and her bestie for his birthday.

You always thought Taehyung was attractive. You were jealous when your friend introduced him, as you couldn’t believe she snagged him up. But, you would never share those feelings. It was inappropriate.

But then one day, when both you and Taehyung were bit tipsy, you kissed at a party. You felt guilty. Ashamed. So you left to go home and never thought anything of it. It was one kiss, and it meant nothing. You even called Ara to confess and to your shock, she was ok with it, simply commenting that Tae had told her and that it was no big deal.

“Ya know, Tae’s birthday is soon, how about we do something special?” Your friend, Ara, suggested to make taehyung’s birthday special by giving him a sexcation, and she wanted your help in making that happen.

—

It was really happening.

As soon as the night fell, you went up to the bedroom, followed shortly after by taehyung. The door had barely closed behind him before he had pressed his lips against yours. It was like he had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. You kissed back, of course, running your hands up and down his chest. His shirt came off and his body was soon exposed. Soon, both of you were naked and in the bed, Taehyung on top of you.

Ara had walked in by now, simply turning on the TV, and laid down in the bed right next to yours, placing a bowl of snacks on the nightstand, completely unfazed by the fact that the man she loved was currently kissing another woman.

He entered you, slowly and softly. His movements gentle. You let out a moan, but it was soon muffled by his mouth as he kissed you once more.

“Mm, your cock feels so good…” You whispered against his lips.

“I bet it does, you are so wet for me already.” Taehyung whispered back, moving in and out of you in a slow rhythm.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just enjoy the moment. You felt like you were on cloud 9, the sensation of him inside of you, the sound of him grunting in your ear... and the fact that Ara was literally watching you two do it, turned you on even more.

The whole experience was unlike anything else you had ever felt before. It was so erotic, so wrong and yet so exciting.

After a few minutes of this slow rhythm, he picked up the pace, his movements becoming harder and faster.

“Mm…” You spread your legs further. “Just like that… keep going just like that…” You squeezed your eyes shut, holding on to the sheets tightly.

Fuck, is this what your friend was feeling? Is this what it felt like to get fucked by such a hot guy?

Taehyung pulled out and flipped you around so you were on your knees.

You gasped, feeling him enter you from behind. You didn't even know why, but the idea of getting fucked like this in front of your friend was just making it all the more arousing.

He held on to your hips, and began pounding into you. Your pussy was now stretched wide, and the feeling of his throbbing cock slamming in and out was overwhelming.

"Oh, Tae... oh!" You buried your head into the pillow, each thrust bringing you closer.

His hips rocked forward with each thrust, and he grunted in pleasure. "Good girl, take my cock." You heard him praise you.

Taehyung gripped your hips tighter and continued to thrust. You were so tight around him, and you could feel every inch of him inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You whimpered, overcome by pleasure. This was so good, you didn’t want it to end. You bounced your body back and forth to match his thrusts, earning pleasurable moans from him.

You were on the brink of climax. You tried to hold back, but it was too much. The sight of your friend watching you from the side, the feeling of his cock in your pussy, and the sound of his grunts were all too much. And just like that, you came. A wave of pleasure washed over you. You felt so relieved, yet also exhausted. You collapsed onto the bed, feeling the mattress creak beneath your weight.

Taehyung gave one last thrust, burying himself deep inside of you, before he groaned and filled you up with his cum. He then pulled out and rolled onto the bed next to you. You looked over at him, your breathing still heavy, and he gave you a sweet smile.

You were sad about it ending, but you knew you had six more days left.

#bts smut #bts requests #bts x reader #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x female reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader

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glitch-after-dark · 3 months ago

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After all she (and Bumblebee and Wheeljack and everyone going through it) did to help Starscream along his redemption arc, Windblade should have gotten a week long sexcation and the best orgasms of her life with her recently released from prison almost deceased token evil boyfriend.

#valveplug #mention #windscream #windblade #let her rail him and be railed in turn #they both deserve to have a break and get their back blown out for a bit

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tgmsunmontue · 5 months ago

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Season to Taste - 17/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

While they travel together most people assume Vi and him are a couple, it helps a lot of the time. They end up sharing a room or bed as they move around. It does make hooking up difficult, but he either resorts to bathroom stalls, or going home with guys after letting Vi do her hard ass security routine where she insists on taking any guys photo before she lets Bradley leave with him. Annoying as fuck but he’s certain he dodges some real bullets because of it. On the rarer instances when he’s hooked up with a woman she’s done the same thing, although it had resulted in more than one awkward proposition for a threesome. He knows Vi doesn’t do casual, but she’s more than happy acting as his wingman, and telling him that in no uncertain terms she doesn’t find him at all attractive and never will.

Spending nearly every waking moment together for weeks and then months on end helps solidify their relationship. He’s never had a sibling, and while Vi has two sisters, they’re both quite a bit older though, so he can only think that this must be what it’s like. She knows him, has known him, for several years now and even though she never likens their relationship to that of siblings she definitely calls him cousin openly and consistently, treats him like he’s family in a way he can’t imagine having any other way without calling her sister. Cousin. Whatever.

… … …

He wakes up feeling the most well rested he has in ages, muscles pleasantly sore, blankets warm, air conditioning making the room cooler and he takes a moment to just burrow down further beneath the blankets and smiles to himself. This is what everyone wants him to do when they tell him he needs a vacation. If this is what it’s going to be like then he’s going to be much more easily persuaded. He stretches and reaches for his phone, surprised to see it’s after ten. He needs to ring Vi and check in and make sure the restaurant hasn’t fallen down, not that he doesn’t trust those he left in charge, but it’s his, and he’s been gone for a while and it doesn’t always sit right leaving it for so long. However he trusts Vi implicitly and she won’t hold back telling him if he needs to come home, no matter how much she thinks he needs a break.

“Come up for breath huh?”

“Hello to you too.”

“You’re having a sexcation, I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“Jake’s gone to see his family.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. I see how it is. You’re bored.”

“I’m…” he lets out a long calming breath, “I wanted to check in with you. See how it’s going in my absence?”

“I came back to a pile of ash and am busy filling in the insurance paperwork…”

“Vi…”

“Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. We created a well-oiled machine and it’s working exactly as it should. Calm down and enjoy you sexcation…”

“What if it’s… more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

Bradley bites his lip, wonders if he should just blurt out that he’s already asked Jake to consider dating him, having a long distance relationship and trying something, no matter how crazy or difficult it might be. If he tells Vi he’s already done it, she’ll support him, without question. However if he asks her opinion then he’ll also get it, honest and brutal and he’s terrified it might not be supportive but he still wants to hear it.

“So, I met his sister yesterday. One of his sisters. She invited me to dinner to meet the rest of his family tomorrow night… I really like him.”

“Yeah. Of course you do. He’s your Cinderfella.”

“Cinderfella was a fairytale, Jake is… a cocky asshole who adds sauce to everything.”

“And yet you like him anyway.”

“I do. I do like him.”

“Yeah. I could tell. You going to actually do anything about it other than just… sex?”

“Do you think I should?”

“I’m not making that decision for you. But… He was learning Italian. Maybe on the off chance that he might one day meet you again. I mean. Slim to zero chances if you were actually Italian, but he was doing it anyway. He makes you laugh. His stupid sauce thing. You think it’s fucking cute and funny. It’s like he’s made you loosen up a bit and that’s… it’s good to see. I want you to be happy and more relaxed and if you have to be with a guy that adds sauce to everything to be happy then I will make sacrifices…”

“Wow. Big of you.”

“What is the worst he can say? No, right? Thanks but no thanks?”

“Yeah.”

“And what’s the best he can say?”

“I love you, lets run off to Vegas and get married?” Bradley jokes, because he’s already had the conversation with Jake, and Vi is already pushing him to asking. And Maria had been doing the same, so having family also think that they might work together. Despite the distance and jobs. To try it.

“Holy shit, you’re thinking about marrying this guy.”

“What? No I’m not.”

“You literally just mentioned running off to Vegas to get married!”

“It was hypothetical!”

“And if he asked?”

“I’d… I’d say yes,” Bradley says, but he has to hold back laughter, because he wouldn’t, but god does he want Vi to think he would.

“Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“He’s not going to propose marriage Vi.”

“Well, still more likely than him saying no to whatever it is you’re going to ask him… Bradley. You’ve met his family. Well. A sister. He’s met me, which is as much family as you have and talk to on the East Coast. You’ve shoving several months into two weeks… But do not, under any circumstances run off to fucking Vegas and get married. Aunt Silvia would kill you as soon as she caught wind of it.”

“Well, I’m not going to ask him,” Bradley says, grinning, because god he loves winding her up.

“Why not? You have to take a risk sometime…”

“I’m not going to ask him, because we already talked about it yesterday and we’re… dating. Going to try the whole long distance th-”

“Mamma Mia! Stronzo!” Vi snaps out, followed by further strings of insults in Italian and Bradley laughs at her annoyance, feels accomplished in a way that only annoying her brings.

“Yeah yeah, think of me tomorrow when I’m meeting his entire family. For the record, he has five sisters.”

“Oh… oh that’s beautiful. That’s what I call karma. Stronzo.”

“Yeah, laugh it up. Can’t be any more intimidating the Nana and Nonna.”

“True. Think you’ll take him to Italy?”

“It’s been six days. How about we just… slow it down. Take it easy.”

“Hmm. From the guy who has already decided to date him and try long distance. And yet I’m the one suggesting crazy shit.”

Bradley groans, and he knows what he’s going to ask next isn’t going to help at all in terms of making Vi think he’s not rushing into things.

“His sister clocked me as soon as I walked in by the way. She’s a fan.”

“And?”

“Jake has no idea who I am…”

“Oh… oh shit. That’s not going to work.”

“He knows my name. But he doesn’t like watching reality TV. He saw one of my recipe books, that Maria owns, and he didn’t even blink. Was just… oh, good for you. You’ve done a cook book.”

“Okay. So maybe he’s just very chill about it?”

“Maria thinks he’s oblivious and will remain oblivious.”

“Maria is…”

“His sister. She invited me to dinner. To meet everyone else. Said that Jake can be pretty blind to things even when it’s right in front of him. And that she’ll… maybe help him remain in the dark a little?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Not in a bad way. Just… she’s warning all of Jake’s other sisters, so they don’t make a big deal and are prepared when I turn up. She was not prepared for me to turn up, Jake had been calling me Leo the whole time. I’m lucky she just rolled with it. We’d met at the market as well, so…”

“He knows your name though right?”

“Yeah. And Maria calls me Bradley.”

“Oh. So… he knows you’re a chef, that you’ve done some books and what…?”

“That I work in a restaurant in New York. But also that I travel a lot for work. Sometimes.”

“You do travel a lot.”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Well, for the record I think you should maybe try and spell it out for him.”

“It’s kind of nice having him like me for just me…”

“Leonardo…” Vi says, and he can hear the reproach in her tone. “He already likes you. Don’t think he’s going to care about your very limited claim to fame.”

“Yeah, but you know people think of me differently when they see the TV version of me, and then meet me in person.”

“I don’t think Jake is going to be one of them.”

“Yeah? Why do you think that?”

“Because of the way he adds sauce to fucking everything. If there was a guy who cared less about what you do for a job I challenge you to find him. Salsa scandalo.”

… … …

“So… want to tell us about him?”

“Why bother? You’re just going to grill him tomorrow.”

Again silent looks are exchanged and Jake realizes that maybe Olivia is also an owner of Leo’s cookbook.

“Are you a fan of his?” Jake asks.

“I…” she starts, looks to Maria. “Yes.”

“Great.”

“Okay, you guys cannot make a big deal or embarrass me, okay?”

“This is the first person you’ve ever brought home. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“If you guys screw this up for me, he’ll also be the last guy I ever bring home.”

“Okay okay, we’ll be on our best behavior. We promise.”

Jake doesn’t trust that statement at all but it’s not like he has much choice in the matter.

EIGHTEEN

#Season to taste #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU

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bropunzeling · 7 months ago

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A MattDrai where they're in a secret relationship/situationship and one of them gets hurt in a scary way (bad hit or whatever) while the other is on the ice too?

oooooh. my first thought is what if it is the other one's fault bc 🙏 i love mess. anyway i think a fun take would be like, if they are already in a rocky place (due to the scf? due to the scf) and maybe the whole situationship has been on ice. maybe this summer instead of somehow finangling a lil sexcation, like they've done before, they just kinda.... didn't try. maybe it would be easier if this thing just petered out. all good things must come to an end, and was it even that good? probably not worth trying to bridge the gap in any case. not when leon is bitter and resentful and matthew is bitter about leon's bitterness. time to grow up.

smash cut to first game of the season theyre playing against each other. things are chippy all game. lots of uncalled penalties. lots of head-hunting. they get tangled up in a scrum. leon doesn't even know who he's elbowing, where his stick is going, who he's shoving, the whistle is going, someone's yelling, guys have fists in his jersey, what the fuck --

next thing he knows, he's watching matthew get helped off the ice, sickly sure that it's his fault.

(and then they get through the game and he has to decide if he's going to head over to matthew's house to check on him and possibly get murdered by sam bennett but he DOES do it and they can have an awful come to jesus talk while matthew limps around his house. or something. suffering!!!!)

#ask meme #injury for cw

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putalabelonit · 1 year ago

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Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfiction recs:

Leon Draisaitl/Matthew Tkachuk [Part 2]

"wondering how many times can a heart melt" 🔒 (E) by slowboat | 2,551 | Wet lips parted, neck pink from beard burn. Head thrown back into the pillow but still watching Leon from under half-closed lids like Leon’s the Second Coming of Christ, like it’s detrimental for Matthew to keep his eyes on him, like he, too, is desperately trying to commit the view to memory.

"wrong when it's right" 🔒 (E) by daisysusan | 8,172 | Leon is drunk. Which—glancing around the locker room—plenty of guys aren’t sober, and for that matter Matthew isn’t either, but Leon is among the drunkest. Maybe the drunkest. Not sloppy, really, but it’s obvious in his loose movements and the way he smiles. And to think, Matthew thought he was going to forget how much he knew about Leon’s body.

"linger" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 71,255 | Matthew doesn’t fuck people who hate him, and he doesn’t fuck hockey players, and he doesn’t fuck alphas. He definitely doesn't fuck alphas when he's in heat. Except for, apparently, Leon Draisaitl.

"punch-drunk" 🔒 (E) by isozym | 3,142 | “Maybe I have a big secret crush on you,” Matthew says with a smile. “On pace for a hundred and forty points, so hot.” “Bullshit,” Leon snorts. His hand drops lower and squeezes Matthew’s ass. “You got me,” Matthew says. “I looked at you and figured your dick was big and uncut and would fit good in the back of my throat.”

"press my head between your shoulder blades" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 13,559 | Leon brings a boy home to Mallorca with him. It was supposed to be some cross between a sexcation and a romantic getaway. Somehow, it turns out better. And more embarrassing for... mostly for Leon.

"Stud" 🔒 (E) by the_pole_position | 959 | "What the fuck?" Brady said, looking over at him in concern. Then, once he spotted Matthew's flaming cheeks, suspicion. "What did you do." It wasn't even a question that he'd done something, which was fair.

"dim the lights and think of you" 🔒 (E) by allthatsings | 2,039 | “Come home with me.” “What?” It’s warmups and Matthew Tkachuk is leering at Leon from the other side of the red line.

"the first law of motion" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 5,568 | Matthew finishes brushing his teeth and spits in the sink. From this close, he smells like sweat, sex, the mint of his toothpaste. “I’m gonna shower too,” he says, reaching for the waistband of the basketball shorts he put on just to come in here, like Leon wasn’t riding his cock half an hour ago. “You staying?” It’s a rhetorical question. Even so, Leon wonders what would happen if he gave the wrong answer.

"your temporary touch" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 5,462 | Leon didn't even want to go to Florida.

"contact high" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 10,065 | So, something is wrong with him. Obviously. Leon’s never heard of anything like this, of feeling overheated and overwhelmed and out of control over your own body. Matthew touching him seems to fix it, though. If Leon were in his right mind, he’d hate that.

"Odour" 🔒 (E) by CoffeeHound91 | 32,201 | Matthew is a Null. He thinks that makes him nothing. Leon disagrees.

"i don't speak german but i can if you like" 🔒 (E) by wheelsnipecellysboys | 3,355 | “Ich spreche kein Englisch, du trottel.” “Woah,” Matthew says unintelligently, putting his hands up in surrender. “Holy shit, what is that? German? Swedish? Fuck.” He slides his martini glass away and grabs the one that this man had bought him, fingers picking at the olives again. “That’s hot.”

"Crowd Pleaser" 🔒 (E) by Helenish | 3,662 | “Best you ever had,” Matthew said once, because he was a dick.

"Wildcard" 🔒 (E) by wearemany | 21,124 | “Anything this guy wants,” he yells, tilting his head towards Draisaitl, “I’m buying.”

"roughed up in the afterglow" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 5,553 | "Fuck," Matthew says, and laughs again, a dry nothing of a sound. "Why is this so awkward?" "I don't know," Leon says, and lets his shoulders drop, shoves his knuckle into his eye. "Jesus."

"follow you down" 🔒 (M) by foundfamily | 11,739 | “Who’s looking after you?” Leon bristles. “Nobody. I’m a grown man.” “I could come out for a few days.” Leon waits for the punchline, sure he must be joking, but Matthew stays quiet, lets the offer linger.

"static" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 1,392 | It all happens on autopilot: punching in an address into Uber, sliding into a backseat, walking over a threshold. One minute he was on the ice, watching the puck go into an empty net as Matthew yanked on his stick, holding him back; the next he was here, standing in Matthew’s bedroom, goosebumps dotting his skin. Even in Florida, he's cold.

"pull me closer (we ain't ever getting older)" 🔒 (E) by ohtempora | 11,503 | Here's what Leon knows about Matthew Tkachuk: He's annoying to play against, especially for a freshman. Especially for a true freshman. He got in a shoving match in an exhibition game against Acadia. He's top on his team in points, and he's going to be a top-ten pick in the upcoming draft. Doesn’t help that he plays for Leon’s biggest rival. His name is getting thrown around for Hobey contention, and Leon can’t take some freshman winning the award he's wanted two years running.

"push-pull" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 2,765 | Matthew can’t help glancing at Leon’s thumb, at the path it's tracing as it dips under the hem of his sleeve. It’s a casually possessive gesture, staking out a square inch of territory. It puts him in mind of two months ago, when they were sitting on the couch at Leon’s place, drinking the beers Leon offered before they got down to the reason Matthew was there; Leon’s arm had draped over the back of the couch, his fingers resting in the notch of Matthew’s shoulder in a way they had never done before, and Matthew had sat there, fist choking the neck of his beer bottle as he tried not to go crazy from wanting to pull away from it. From wanting more of it.

"Bad Habit" 🔒 (M) by ClaraxBarton | 2,295 | Matthew was angry, horny and lonely. Not a great combination in his hometown, during an event that threw an even bigger spotlight on him than usual in a town that was absolutely a hockey town, no matter what people wanted to say. So, his usual go-to for getting rid of the angry, horny, lonely feelings - hooking up with a stranger - was problematic in a lot of ways. Not the least of which was finding the time between all of the everything he had to do.

"Bloodletting" 🔒 (M) by Helenish | 3,781 | They’d been happy. They’d won a lot of hockey games together.

"make this bed get squeaky" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 8,674 | The Oilers win their series against the Flames and Leon feels like he deserves a reward. Showing up at Tkachuk’s house for a booty call feels like the natural next step.

"Opposite of Nothing" (E) by angry_geno_is_score | 10,393 | “Hey,” Tkachuk calls across the red line during warm-ups, the night before the first of three exhibition games Calgary and Edmonton will play against each other in the next couple weeks. “Wanna fuck?” Leon knew he was asking for it by skating so close to the Calgary side of the ice. “What?” he demands, ice spraying as he skids to a stop so he can turn to face Tkachuk fully.

"call it what you want" 🔒 (M) by fannyann | 13,034 | When Matthew sees the photos, he laughs about the timing until he cries. It’s the morning the Oilers are set to play the Blues and he should probably be angry or panicked or appalled that someone would violate their privacy like this. But mostly, Matthew’s just disappointed he couldn’t even be outed with a guy who kept his word.

"lift your hearts to the horizon" 🔒 (M) by puckthisshift | 14,583 | In which Matthew slut-shames Leon’s wandering heart, Leon makes declarations like the romance novel hero he is, and we ignore the rules of physics in favor of magic.

"broken glass" 🔒 (E) by dilangley | 13,794 | “So it’s going to be like that,” Leon said, a statement, not a question. He had thought otherwise; after all, the ranks of wolves in professional hockey was small, a brotherhood spanning across organizations in allegiance deeper than team colors. “I can’t make exceptions. Not even for Leon Draisaitl.”

"cartography of light and undead" 🔒 (M) by lighthousetowers | 22,582 | Two consenting adult vampires beat each other up in a St. Louis back alley, until they don't. This? Is a love story.

"malt" 🔒 (E) by unsay | 4,044 | "It's nice to meet you. I have heard many good things,” Barkov says, diplomatically, while they both try to pretend that his closest acquaintance with Leon to date hasn’t been by way of the scratches down Matthew’s back.

"last dress rehearsal" 🔒 (E) by unsay | 3,257 | “Nah, c’mon, I think it’s cute,” Matthew says. Leon feels the back of his neck go hot. “You’re, like, really trying to get yourself wifed up here.”

"better than before" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 4,704 | "Well,” Matthew says, once he can get his breath back. “That was alright.” Next to him, the sheets rustle. Matthew turns his head to the side and watches Leon push himself up on one elbow. There’s a wrinkle right between his eyebrows. “Alright,” he repeats slowly.

"feeling all hell" 🔒 (M) by litaf1101 | 7,405 | Leon and Matthew are doing a terrible job at being exes.

"never get far" 🔒 (E) by ohtempora | 4,110 | After the Flames get bounced from the playoffs, Matthew gets off the ice, gets about twenty minutes to be pissed off in the locker room, grits his way through his media availability, and gets the call. When Draisaitl walks into the room, Matthew honestly doesn't know which one of them is more surprised.

"plans in a warmer town" 🔒 (M) by ohtempora | 2,057 | When you consider how strongly the odds were stacked against them, Matthew has no idea how they pulled this off.

"brakeless" 🔒 (E) by ohtempora | 8,117 | Whatever is linking them together—biology or lust or something bigger, something Matthew can’t begin to understand—falls into place. Matthew says, “This isn’t supposed to happen.”

"catch me, I'm falling" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 9,852 | Matthew wakes up alone and confused the morning after saying Red to his one-night stand. He’s planning on going right to Biosteel Camp, but someone demands to take care of him.

"rough dream?" 🔒 (M) by reticent | 7,248 | “Would you believe me if I said I was in, like, a Groundhog Day kind of situation?” Matthew sounds strangely serious. Which Leon doesn’t really understand, because Matthew’s not stupid, and: “Time loops don’t exist.”

"in from the cold" 🔒 (E) by yourblues | 4,654 | Matthew says, “Love what you’ve done with the place.” This is a joke. The joke is that Leon’s house in Edmonton looks exactly the same as it did the last time he was here, which was almost two years ago, when Matthew was still property of the Calgary Flames.

"one-off" 🔒 (E) by thelightwithout | 564 | so the thing is that, when it happens, it’s not really supposed to be anything.

"the sweetest dream would never do" 🔒 (E) by NoodleE | 1,255 | It’s not the first time a guy whose nose Matthew wants to break has shown up in a sex dream – not that Matthew wants to break his nose right now anyways. He’s enjoying this way too much.

°°°°°°

"act like I don't care what you did" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 6,399 | Matthew had grabbed Draisaitl’s thigh mostly by accident, but he wasn’t going to let that asshole know about that. But after making some promises, he finagles a bid for the winner’s room so he can deliver. And then some. How else is a guy supposed to get an apology out of Draisaitl?

"barons" 🔒 (M) by dilangley | 42,768 | Matthew Tkachuk coaches Leon Draisaitl and Trevor Zegras for the NHL’s newest expansion.

More to be added.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #ao3 #mens hockey rpf #mattdrai #leon draisaitl x matthew tkachuk #leon x matthew

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