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teapartyprincess4two · 4 months

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can you write another Matt story? I'm obsessed with your writing!! <3

Manage- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Secretary!reader x Boss!Matt

classification: smut w/ a plot

warnings: 18+, MDNI, use of y/n, power dynamic, sexual content, suggestive content, slight cursing, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of jealousy, literal sex

summary: You’re Matt’s secretary, in charge of overseeing everything related to his schedule. Everyday when you come into the office he suppresses the urge to take you then and there. When on a work business trip, he can’t hold back anymore.

—

You loved your job, not because it was your dream job, but because it was easy. You went into work, did what you had to do, and at the end of the day you could go home and disconnect from it entirely. There were some odd days when your boss, Matthew, would call you in your days off or call you from home to ask about something. But, for the most part, you could completely forget about the job once you clocked out.

Just because the job was easy doesn’t mean that there wasn’t rules to be followed. As the boss of a world renowned magazine company, Matt always made sure to enforce them. For example, deadlines had to be met, sales were critical, and the workplace environment was meant to remain professional. He was a strict, straightforward boss and didn’t play when it came to the rules. Another one of his big rules was time management, he hated when people were late.

You were running a little late today, and as the boss’s secretary that was completely unacceptable. You stayed up late last night with an old friend, catching up on life and drinking one too many glasses of wine. Before you knew it, it was midnight and you still weren’t home. By the time you fell asleep it was already 3 in the morning. As a result, this morning you woke up late, you had to force yourself out of bed and rush to get ready.

So, now you’re walking into the office an hour late wearing an outfit you would’ve never picked out if you were in your right state of mind. You avoid eye contact with your coworkers as you make your way to your desk that’s situated in yours and Matt’s shared office. That was the worst part, out of all your coworkers you were the only one who had to be with the boss throughout the entire work day. There was no room for mistakes, especially on your part.

“You’re late,” Matt grumbles as he watches you dump your things onto your desk. You looked frazzled, but he wasn’t going to make an exception for you just because you were his secretary. Sure he’d built a rapport with you from working alongside you all these years, but if he made an exception for you then he’d have to do it for everyone.

“I know, I’m so sorry Mr. Sturniolo,” you reply meekly, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment. You hated this, you felt like a school girl getting reprimanded for missing homework. If he wasn’t such a strict boss, maybe you’d take the time to explain why you were late, but you knew better than that. He would just see it as an excuse and write you off as a lazy employee.

Matt takes a long look at you, you were wearing a skirt that was definitely not workplace appropriate. He hated how easily he got riled up at the sight of your legs. He looks away immediately, training his gaze on the computer in his desk. “I’ve got a lot of meetings today, Y/n. I need you performing at your best potential, so get it together,” he says sternly, trying to think about anything other than you in that tiny skirt. You finally situate yourself at your desk, adjusting your skirt so it won’t ride up. It’s no use, this skirt was definitely not meant for the office.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, turning on your computer and preparing yourself for the long work day ahead.

—

For the rest of the day you sit in business meetings taking notes and writing down important dates and deadlines. For the most part, you’re really bored, but you were already late today and can’t afford another mistake, so you try your best to pay attention so you don’t miss anything.

Matt sits next to you, watching as you mindlessly take notes on what the presenter is saying. These meetings were very important and it was imperative that he paid attention too, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down to your legs. They’re crossed under the table, your ankle swaying back and forth rhythmically. If he could, he’d crawl under the table and spread your leg-

“Okay, Mr. Sturniolo, you’re up,” the presenter suddenly says, breaking him from his thoughts. Matt coughs awkwardly, adjusting his pants slightly to hide his growing erection. He stands from his seat, taking the remote clicker from the man and continuing the presentation.

Matt knows this information like the back of his hand, it’s all numbers and statistics that he’s memorized over the course of managing such a large company, but as you sit there with your legs on full display he can’t think straight. He stutters throughout the entire presentation and at one point completely zones out with thoughts of you bent over the desk, pushed up against the wall, or even squirming in your seat.

“Sir?” you ask timidly, he’s been quiet for a while and is just staring down at you. His eyes pierce into you, lighting your skin on fire. The other men were looking around confused as to why the presentation stopped.

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts yet again and he coughs awkwardly for the second time. “Would you like me to get you a water?” you ask politely, standing from your seat. As you do this, your legs uncross and Matt catches a glimpse of your lacy underwear. His brain is on fire with thoughts of you.

He forces himself to look away with a clenched jaw as you quickly adjust your skirt. “Yes that would be nice. Thank you, Y/n,” he finally manages to say. You nod your head and excuse yourself from the group of men briefly.

All of the men allow their eyes to wander on your body, taking you in like a tall drink of water. They were all silently wishing they had a secretary like you.

“Pretty girl you got there,” one man comments as he leans forward in his seat to watch you walk down the hall. The skirt ended right above the edge of your ass, lifting slightly with each sway of your hips.

Matt sends him a warning glare before returning back to the presentation.

—

“Don’t forget to book the flights for the company trip. You and I will be leaving two days early to make sure everything is in order. Make sure you account for that, okay?” Matt says as he rapidly walks from the conference room to your shared office. You walk behind him, holding your skirt down with your left hand as your right arm is holding the papers from the previous meeting. Matt needed to walk in front of you or he’d be staring at your ass and legs, unable to concentrate on anything else.

“Are you catching all of this?” He asks, waving his hand in the air to catch your attention.

“Yes sir, I’m just um- I’m struggling with these papers,” you admit, adjusting the stack of papers again so they won’t fall to the floor. He stop his rapid walking and looks back at you, feeling bad for leaving you with the brunt of the work all the time. If he was honest, he was very harsh with you and would often overwork you, but it was because he always found himself staring and admiring at you. If he wasn’t so harsh with you then he’d certainly cross the line of professionalism in your relationship and entire uncharted territory.

Matt takes the stack of papers from you, mumbling a small sorry as he does it. He’s careful not to graze your skin, knowing that your simple touch would send him into a frenzy. He couldn’t trust himself yet, especially not with the skirt you’re wearing. He needs an excuse to get as far away from you as possible right now.

“You can go to lunch.”

“Are you sure? It’s only 11 and I still have to book the fli-”

“Yes. Bring me a sandwich from the deli I like. You can finish that later.”

You’re confused, he never sends you to lunch this early, especially not after business meetings. He’d usually have you type up a report or schedule the next meeting, sometimes he’d even assign you busy work like reorganizing the files or shredding letters. You don’t question it though, you knew better than that. Instead you send him a nod and head out to grab lunch.

As soon as you’re gone he’s relieved, he makes his way into the office, dumping the stack of papers on your desk before slumping down on his chair. He sighs, it’s a sigh of relief, but also of frustration. Everytime he closes his eyes his mind is overtaken with thoughts of you.

The thought of you sitting so close to him everyday, those lacy underwear mere inches from him. Your legs on full display for him, ready to be spread open at any moment. That tiny skirt riding up every time you took a singular step. Even your hands as they expertly typed away on your computer. The thought of you was driving him crazy, he doesn’t know how he survives entire workdays with you so close. If he could have it his way, you would’ve been bent over your desk the second you arrived late to work, for the simple fact that you arrived late. Then he would’ve eaten you out until you were begging him to stop as punishment for wearing a skirt so short. But he’s your boss and he needs to control himself and his thoughts.

His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as he tried to think of anything other than you, but no matter how hard he tried his mind always came back to you. His dick twitches at the thought of you pressed up against the wall, your skirt halfway up your abdomen as he fucks into you relentlessly. He thinks about how he’d pick you up and guide you towards his chair where he’d let you do all the work, bouncing up and down on him for hours. Your hair would fall onto your face and he’d have to push it back, creating a make-shift ponytail to use as leverage to fuck into you harder.

His hand starts subconsciously wandering onto his hard, clothed dick at the thought. No one is here to watch him, the door is closed and you’re off on your lunch break, if he’s quick enough he can get in a quick, satisfying release. The idea floats around his head as he imagines you on your knees, face covered in his cum. Your lips would wrap perfectly around him, just like they wrapped around the straws he’s watched you drink from. Then he’d lay you on the desk on top of all the paperwork as he fucked you until the desk broke.

One time won’t hurt, right?

Briefly he looks around the room, making sure no one walks in as he begins unbuckling his pants. This is the first and only time he’s allowing himself to go this far at the thought of you. An adrenaline rush surges through him as he pulls his zipper down, becoming anxious to touch himself. His dick is twitching, precum leaking out as if it’s crying and begging to be set free.

As he’s about to let his throbbing penis free of its constraints, the door opens abruptly, causing him to look up in shock and immediately scoot himself closer into the desk. He tries his best to hide himself under the desk, using the ledge to serve as a shield.

You walk in with a big, kind smile, a bag of food in one hand and two drinks in the other. “Here’s your sandwich, Mr. Sturniolo,” you say, as you place the bag and one of the drinks onto his desk. “They didn’t have the soda you like so I brought this instead, I hope that’s okay. If not I brought another option,” you ramble on, plopping an alternate drink on the table.

His face is red hot and he won’t meet your gaze, “That’s fine, y/n. Thank you.”

“If you don’t like it I can get something else, I just didn’t know which one you’d like-”

“Y/n. You can go,” he interrupts you sternly, embarrassed that he was almost caught. You stand in silence, taking the hint that your boss wanted to be alone. You grab the paperwork from earlier and a pen before dismissing yourself quickly, deciding to work through the rest of your lunch break in the break room.

When you’re gone, Matt lets out another sigh of relief before looking down at his pants. They’re unbuckled, exposing the hem of his underwear. He quickly readjusts himself before looking at the bag of food.

He wasn’t even hungry anymore. All he could think about was you.

—

You’re currently preparing to board the plane for the long awaited company-wide business trip. The trip is to a resort where other major magazine companies will be hosting a week long conference. You and Matt are leaving two days early to ensure that everything is in order. This means that it’s your responsibility to make sure that all the company presentations, spreadsheets, paperwork, informational brochures, documents, and other records are in order. The thought of it stresses you out, you can’t even begin to imagine what Matt would do if even a single thing went wrong.

Even if you’d have some time to yourself in the resort, the thought of actually working made you dread the trip. But you put on your best performance as you walk behind Matt in the large airport in search of your boarding gate. Your suitcase is heavy, filled with all your personal necessities, some casual clothes, and a plethora of work clothes.

“Mr. Sturniolo? I think you might be heading the wrong way. I wanna say that the boarding gate is over here,” you speak shyly, afraid to overstep when speaking with your boss.

“Matt.” he replies, he hates that you call him ‘Mr. Sturniolo,’ it was a constant reminder that he was your superior, your boss. A reminder that you’d never be able to be his unless he fired you or risked a workplace scandal. “I’m sorry?” you ask, unsure of what he meant by that. You knew his name was Matthew, but you’d never called him anything but his last name.

“Please just call me Matt,” he reiterates. After years of working by your side, he’s determined to finally make an impression on you that doesn’t scream ‘I’m your boss!’ You hum in response, finally realizing that he wants you to refer to him by his first name. The thought of being on first name basis with your boss was a little weird, but it humanized him a bit and made him seem less intimidating.

“Okay. Well, Matt I think you’re heading towards the wrong gate.”

He looks around the airport, then down again at his ticket, realizing that he is in fact heading the wrong way. “You’d be right, Y/n,” he replies with a playful grin.

He’s dressed very casually, it’s an outfit that you’d be able to wear to a grocery store, but still lounge around your house in. The look contrasted his everyday attire drastically, he almost looked… normal? He didn’t look like a man who manages one of the largest magazine companies in the world, a man who drives a sports car, a man who has a secretary ready to do what he says when he says it. No, he looks like a man who walks his dog in the afternoon, a man who reads books before going to bed, a man who washes the dishes after every meal. He just looked normal and that made him easier to talk to.

The two of you begin walking to your designated gate, Matt trails behind you and takes in your attire too. You’re wearing a pair of leggings, a fitted top, sneakers, and a cropped sweater. You look great, but the change of style opens his imagination to the thought of you being fucked in a domestic setting. He could imagine you on the couch, by the sink, or even in the shower. He hated how easily his mind wandered into sexual territory, but he loved thinking about it.

You two board the plane quickly. You take the window seat, letting Matt situate himself in the aisle seat. The flight isn’t too long, but you’ve prepared yourself with some activities in case you become bored or restless.

Throughout the entire flight Matt is still thinking about you. All he can do is hope you don’t look down at his lap and see how excited he truly is. Fortunately for him, you’re deeply immersed in a game of sudoku. You’re biting the end of your pen in concentration, your eyes wandering across the page as you try and figure the puzzle out. He wishes you were biting across his skin, or that your lips were occupied with something else…

He takes a look at your lips, then at the page in front of you, “6 goes here.” His finger points to a specific square on the puzzle, breaking you from your concentration. You pause your chewing, processing the information Matt just said. You write in the 6, that singular move solving the entire puzzle for you as you quickly fill in the rest of the boxes.

A big smile is planted on your face, “wanna try?” You extend the book and pen out for him. He doesn’t have anything else to do, so he shrugs and takes the items from you, “sure.” In the process his hands graze against yours, goosebumps raising along his arms immediately. “Okay, well while you do that I’m gonna go to the restroom,” you comment, getting up from your seat so you can head to the back of the airplane.

You shuffle out of your seat, pressing your stomach to the seat in front of you as you try to wiggle out onto the aisle. Your butt briefly grazes Matt’s knee, your thigh touching his inner leg as you weave your way through his legs. “Sorry,” you whisper to him, finally making your way into the aisle. He wishes he could grab a hold of your hips, rip off your leggings, and pull you down onto his lap then and there. Even with all these people occupying the rest of the airplane, he’d fuck you so hard you’d forget how to walk.

His eyes do a once over on your whole body as you walk down the aisle, your tight leggings leaving little to the imagination. A small groan escapes his lips, if this is how he was feeling during the flight how was he going to survive the entire trip?

Matt shakes his head, beating himself up for being such a pervert. He stares down at the sudoku puzzle in front of him, suddenly forgetting all the rules.

—

The resort is huge, much bigger than the resort used for last year’s conference. Every year a different company hosts the conference, this year your company’s top rival was hosting. They were known to show off and pamper their guests, which would explain the grandious size of the resort.

You and Matt walk up to the front desk with your suitcases trailing behind you, ready to check in. The clerk at the front desk offers you both a warm smile as he asks for the name of the reservation.

“Matthew Sturniolo, we’re here for a weeklong event,” Matt replies, taking his ID out for further proof of identification. As you admire the luxurious look of the lobby the clerk looks for the reservation on the computer. When he finds it he immediately pulls out his rehearsed speech before handing Matt a singular key card, “Awesome! Looks like you two will be in a master suite on the top floor. Here’s the keycard, if you have any questions feel free to use your room phone to ring the front desk. We do offer room service which can also be accessed through the room phone. Enjoy your stay!”

Matt waits for another key card, because there should be two rooms, but the clerk becomes preoccupied with the computer once again. “I’m sorry. I reserved two rooms,” he says politely, trying not to lose his temper. If there was one thing he hated it was incompetent workers, and if this worker wasn’t so incompetent he would’ve known that Matt had two rooms. The clerk looks up from the computer briefly before checking again on the reservation status, “Right! Well it looks like the rooms you previously booked were given to two other guests. A lot of people will be visiting us for this conference so they had to move a couple of people around to make room for everyone. That’s why you’ll be sharing a room now.”

You watch as the situation unfolds, ready to step in if Matt became too abrasive. As a secretary, you were used to dealing with mistakes like this and have become an expert at deescalating situations, especially with Matt as your boss. He has a tendency to lose his temper or make snarky remarks and then leave you to deal with the aftermath.

Matt’s about to lose his temper and the clerk can tell so he quickly interjects again, “Don’t worry, sir. The room is very large and is equipped with a Queen sized bed. If you have any issues, we will work with you.”

Matt’s about to say something he shouldn’t, but is stopped by your gentle hand on his shoulder as you speak, “Thank you! We will call if there are any issues.” You grab the key card from the desk and pull Matt away and towards the elevator as you offer the clerk an apologetic smile.

He’s tense at your touch, because it elicits something feral in him, but also because he’s still on edge from the previous conversation. “I’m sure the room is big enough,” you comment once you two are inside the elevator. You can tell he’s bothered, his jaw is clenched and his fists are balled up so tight it causes his arms to flex. Even though he’s clearly angry, he looks extremely handsome right now. If he wasn’t your boss you’d even go as far as to say he looked hot.

“Doesn’t matter. I reserved two rooms, we should’ve gotten two rooms.”

“Yeah, but we’ll make it work,” you say with a smile, trying to remain positive.

“That’s not the point,” he grumbles. The elevator dings with each floor, and each ding reminds him that he’s closer to having to share a room with you for an entire week. If he wasn’t able to contain himself at the office, or even on the airplane, how was he ever meant to survive an entire week with you?

The elevator dings one last time as you reach the top floor, the doors opening slowly to reveal a long hallway. You exit the elevator, Matt following suit behind you as you read the keycard. The keycard reads room #505, it’s all the way at the end of the hall, perfectly secluded in a corner.

This only sends Matt’s imagination more wild, he didn’t know how he was going to keep his hands off of you for an entire week.

—

After getting settled, Matt informs you that there’s a brief introductory meeting that you need to attend. He tells you to dress up professionally because a lot of important people were going to be there and to be prepared to take notes. You know this is a business trip, but a part of you was hoping to relax the first night. With Matt as your boss, you should’ve known better.

The living situation wasn’t that bad, the room was very large, complete with a queen size bed, two closets, and a restroom that had a his and hers sink. Before doing anything else you two got situated, Matt insisted on sleeping on the floor, but after further deliberation you insisted he join you in the bed. You were adults after all, it didn’t have to be weird. He protested at first, but the thought of sleeping in the same bed as you was exciting.

After that, you decided to take a shower. You needed to wash off the jet lag from the flight. While you were in the shower Matt’s brain was going wild with thoughts of you. The water slowly running down your body, being able to see your silhouette through the foggy glass, pressing you up against the glass as he fucked you from behind. He was itching to get up from the bed, barge into the restroom and finally make you his. But he had to remind himself that this was a purely professional trip, that you were only in the same room due to circumstance.

You’re currently lining your lips, adding all the finishing touches to your makeup. You decided on a black dress, it was simple and classy, but still fun. Your hair was perfectly styled to show off a silver necklace and matching earrings, they were actually a gift from Matt. He gave them to you one Christmas, mumbling something about how they were from the company, but in reality he chose them himself specifically for you.

Matt’s been dressed for a while now, waiting for you to get out of the restroom so he can make any last adjustments to his outfit. You’re taking forever though and he still needs to put on is his tie, so he decides to walk into the restroom and use the mirror adjacent to yours.

As soon as he walks into the restroom his eyes are all over you, admiring everything about your face, body, and outfit. He notices you’re wearing the jewelry he gifted you and he makes a mental note to gift you another set.

“You look nice,” he comments nonchalantly, his fingers working expertly to tie his tie around his neck. You smile at him through the mirror, popping on a thick layer of lipgloss before returning the sentiment, “you clean up nice yourself.” Matt sends you a smile of his own, flattening the tie against his button up shirt. His outfit matched yours, it was all black from head to toe. It was a nice coincidence that made you two look almost like a couple.

You reach out your hands to fix his collar, it was popping out slightly. “Lemme fix this,” you whisper, your fingertips grazed against his neck. His breath hitches in his throat as he tried not to look down, he had the perfect view of your chest from where he was standing. He’s in the perfect position to pick you up and fuck you on the bathroom counter. If he wanted to he could smudge your lipstick, and fuck you so hard you cry, ruining your makeup.

“Thanks,” he whispers back, placing his hands on your hips to move you away from the mirror. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, he’s never touched you like that before. Matt tries to focus his attention on his reflection, ignoring his once again growing erection.

You look him up and down, noticing the tent in his pants for the first time. He looks so sexy right now that you want to get on your knees and worship him, servicing his cock until it has nothing left to offer. Then you’d let him pleasure you as you sit on the countertop, his head between your thighs.

You shock yourself with your dirty thoughts, turning abruptly towards the mirror as you try ignoring the sexual tension.

—

The meeting was more of a cocktail party, it was the perfect setting to get to know everyone before the real work started. Most of the people here were men in power, followed around by their assistants, secretaries, and interns. There wasn’t much for you to do but follow Matt around as he introduced you to a few of his colleagues. You remembered most of them from previous business trips, but still did your rounds around the event.

After getting comfortable and introducing you to everyone, the drinks started. You dismissed yourself and wandered off to find a drink for yourself. Matt wasn’t a big drinker, especially not at events like this, but he let himself fall victim to peer pressure. He found himself drinking scotch, whiskey, and vodka with a group of extremely powerful and wealthy men. They were hooting and hollering, engaging in conversation about all the females in their field that they’d fucked. Matt didn’t have any stories to share on the subject, so after a while he bid the men goodbye to look for you.

He was kind of drunk at this point, stumbling slightly as he searched for you. You were at the bar drinking a martini while talking to a man. He, much like you, was an assistant to a very powerful man. The conversation between you two was casual and innocent, but as Matt watched he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

“Does your boss drag you along to boring events like this too?” the man asked, taking a sip of his own drink. You weren’t drunk, but you were getting there. You take a sip of your drink and look around the room, catching a glimpse of Matt in a far corner. He looked upset and drunk. “Mmm yeah, but the job is easy so I don’t complain,” you reply, your eyes trained on Matt’s approaching figure. His nostrils were flared, jaw clenched, and the fabric of his shirt strained against his flexed arms.

“Umm that’s actually my boss there. I better go,” you say, hopping off the barstool. Your dress rides up slightly, exposing more of your thigh than necessary. The man watches as you walk towards Matt without a word, before turning to the bartender and asking for another drink.

“Are you drunk?” You immediately ask Matt once you meet. He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your arm and looping it around his. This is his attempt at leaving the event while looking put together and professional. He dismisses himself from the few colleagues you run into on the way out as he leads you towards the elevator. You play along, but once the elevator doors close you pull your arm away.

“What was that about?”

“Didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you,” Matt replies in a gruff tone. He presses the button to your floor aggressively. “Okay, but why did we have to leave?” you’re feeling feisty, the martinis giving you the daring push you needed to express yourself.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving, I was just looking for you. But when I saw how that guy was looking at you, I decided it’d be better for us to go back to our room.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms, causing your boobs to pop out slightly from your dress. You didn’t need a protector, especially not when the man you were talking to was just being nice. Matt looks at you when you scoff, groaning at the sight of your boobs spilling out of your dress. “Don’t do that,” he instructs drunkenly, pointing towards your arms. You look down at your chest, noticing how exposed you are, but you’re too drunk to care.

“Don’t do this?” you tease, pushing your chest out further. Matt inches closer to you, his face dangerously close to yours. “Stop” he whispers sternly, allowing his arms to rest on your hips as his nose grazes yours. “Or what?” you’re taunting him at this point, trying to see how far he’d go with you. But you’re drunk and so is he, if you two were sober you’d never be this bold.

The elevator rings, signaling that you’ve reached your floor. The sudden sound is sobering, it pulls you both from your trance, causing you to pull away immediately.

The walk to your room is awkward, the sexual tension lingering as you adjust your dress. Were you really about to kiss your boss? You try convincing yourself that that only happened because of the alcohol, you’re too inebriated to act against your natural, feral instincts. You fumble for the keycard in your purse, opening the door nervously before walking in. How were you supposed to sleep next to Matt after that?

“I’ll sleep on the floor, Mr. Sturniolo,” you comment quickly as you sit on the edge of the bed, unstrapping your heels. The use of his last name catches his off guard, “I thought I told you to call me Matt.” You didn’t even realize you reverted back to using his last name, but there must be something telling you to remain professional. For the sake of this trip and for your job.

He’s standing over you, looking down at you with an intimidating look. You look up at him, leaning back into the bed slightly to get a better look at him, “Right. Sorry, Matt.” Whatever awkwardness you felt was quickly dissipating as the wetness between your legs grew. He used his knee to separate your legs, standing in between them as he took ahold of your face.

Matt leans down closer to you, his lips inches from yours as he says, “Make it up to me.” Without another word, he takes your lips in his. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, and your arms fold so that you’re now resting on your elbows. Matt’s now on top of you, his body fitting against yourself perfectly.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up with one hand as he allows the other to trace from your face to your chest. He’s admiring everything about you, his fingers toying with the silver necklace around your neck. You’re watching him in awe, you’ve never known a man as sexy as him.

“Matt-“

“Shhh, pretty girl. You can moan my name all night long, but first I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing himself off the bed, you prop yourself up eagerly in the process. You watch as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants swiftly, pulling them down to reveal his underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight, his dick struggling against the cloth. You know exactly what he wants and you’re ready to comply.

“Open up, pretty girl,” he instructs, whipping his cock out and pumping himself briefly. You do as you’re told, kneeling between him and the bed as you open your mouth for him. His dick is big, but you’re so hungry for him that you don’t question how it’ll all fit.

Matt lets you take control from here, moving his hands to the sides of your face to caress a few strands of hair out of your face. He watches as you take his cock into your hand, pumping it slowly as you kiss from the base all the way to the tip. A groan escapes his lips when you finally wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around the slit in the process.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, moving his hips closer to you as he pushes himself into your mouth fully. Matt thrusts into your face slowly, using his hand to keep your head in place. Your eyes begin to water, small gag noises following each time he hits the back of your throat. “So good,” he moans, throwing his head back in pleasure as you hollow your cheeks around his cock.

He fucks your face faster, causing tears to brim at your waterline. You look so beautiful under him, taking him without a complaint. This is better than everything he’s imagined, you look so innocent under him with tour hands on your knees, pushing your boobs out for him. The sight alone is enough to make him cum, he pulls out of your mouth completely letting you catch your breath as he feverishly strokes himself.

You don’t miss a beat, moving your face closer to him so you can kiss the base of his cock and suck his balls as he continues stroking himself. He groans at your eagerness to please, pushing your face back and instructing you to open your mouth again. You do as your told, Matt laying his heavy dick in your mouth as his cum decorates your tongue. His moans fill the room as he praises you for taking him so well.

You take him in your mouth again, swallowing the cum in the process, bobbing your head up and down his cock a few times. You kiss his tip, a small whimper coming from Matt. You’re drenched at this point, the only thing you can think about is his dick inside you, your spongy walls clenching around him.

He watches attentively as you stand up seductively from your spot on the floor, your knees are red and your makeup is ruined. You look so sexy, he’s ready to go again. You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as one of his arms wraps around your waist and the other massages the skin right under the hem of your dress.

“Fuck me, please,” you whisper into the kiss. You asked so nicely that it makes his dick twitch.

He doesn’t have to be told twice, instead he guides your make-out session to the restroom where he turns you around so your ass is flush against him. You moan as he pulls your dress down, accidentally tearing the straps in the process to free your boobs. He’s watching you from the mirror, taking in how your boobs bounce with every movement.

Matt’s fingers trace along your chest, slowly reaching your nipples. He pinches your nipples between his cold fingers, eliciting another moan from you. “So beautiful,” he mumbles, trailing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. Your hands hold you up against the counter and your head is thrown back in pleasure, resting against his shoulder as you await his neck move.

One of his hands cups your breast as the other works towards moving your lace underwear to the side. He groans at the feeling of your wet folds against his fingers, you were all worked up and it was just for him. “So wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You bite your lip, nodding your head feverishly. All you want is for him to fuck you already.

“Use your words, baby.”

“It’s all for you Matt.”

He seems satisfied with your response because he finally lines himself up with your entrance, letting his tip sit there for a while before fully pushing himself in. You are immediately sent to a state of euphoria at the feeling of him inside of you, breathless pants and moans escaping your lips. Matt moans out your name as every fantasy he’s had about you flashes through his mind, none of them comparing to the sight in front of him right now.

One of his arms is wrapped around your waist while the other snakes around your chest so he can hold one of your boobs. Your head is thrown onto his shoulder as you try to anchor yourself to the counter with your hands. His hips snap back and forth as he pumps in and out of you, causing your body to rock against the counter top.

“You feel so good,” he moans, holding you tighter against him. You’re clenching around him, one of your hands reaching behind you to grab his neck. You turn your face towards him and capture his lips in a heated kiss as he continues fucking into you, his fingers pinching your nipples and massages your breast. You’re moaning his name into his mouth, a string of curse words following as you feel your climax approaching.

He picks up on your queues and doesn’t slow down, kissing you harder as he pushes you past your breaking point. Matt feels you clench around him one last time, a loud, high pitched moan following as you come undone on his cock. He pulls away from the kiss so he can see your fucked out expression through the mirror. You look so sexy, taking him entirely like a good, obedient girl.

He grins at the sight in front of him, pecking your shoulder before grabbing a fistful of your hair and fucking you harder than before. His orgasm is close, and he’s chasing it faster and faster with each thrust. One hand is gripping your hair as the other rests on the small of your back, he watches as your ass jiggles against him with each thrust. You’re whimpering at this point, still very sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“So perfect,” he mumbles. The room is filled with the sound of your whimpers, Matt’s groans, and your skin slapping against each other as he drops his warm, sticky load inside of you. This time it’s your turn to watch him from the mirror, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is slack as his hips stutter inside of you, breathy moans tickling your back.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips into you one last time before pulling out of you completely.

Matt’s grip around you is still firm, holding you up so you can balance yourself properly. The two of you catch your breath before you turn to face him, a fucked out look on your face as you smile at him. He smiles too, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a genuine kiss. Not a ‘let’s fuck again kiss,’ but a genuine kiss.

“How am I supposed to work with you after that?” you joke, placing your arms on his chest.

“You’ll manage,” he says with a smirk, pecking your lips again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy Valentine’s Day enjoy this boss Matt story😋Kk byeeeeee

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

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cowboybarzy · 4 months

Note

unexpected with baby’s first all star game? 🥹

loving the baby myla requests!! I have another one coming soon!!!

wc: 1.1k

cw: mentions of sex, lowkey hating on Justin Bieber (sorry not sorry), babies

part of the unexpected series

"How much do you want to bet Mat is going to change his wallpaper from Myla to that picture of him and Justin hugging?," Liana asked you as you walked back to your hotel after the NHL All Star Draft. Mat got elected to play for team Matthews, which Justin Bieber was the coach for. And Mat was a big fan of his. He hadn't shut up about him being there for days and contemplated for weeks about what he'd say to him if he met him.

"He better not," you replied, kissing your daughter's head who was fast asleep in her carrier. "$50."

She laughed and accepted the bet. At the hotel, you put Myla to bed, who would be spending the night with her grandparents while you, Liana, and Mat spent the night at the after party.

"There he is." Mat's eyes lit up in excitement when he saw you and threw his arms around you, kissing your cheek with a lot of force.

"I'm on his fucking team," Mat yelled over the loud music, his arms still tight around your middle as he lifted you in the air. You shook your head with laughter and embraced the kiss he pressed to your lips.

The night consisted of some good music, some fun people, and you and Mat enjoying a rare night out. And Mat showed how much he loved that time with you, as he never let go of you. Not once did his hand leave your back, your hand, your shoulder, whichever body part he was holding on to, not to go get a drink, to chat with his friends, and definitely not when he pulled you into a dance. That high continued throughout the night and into the very early morning. You couldn't waste those precious moments the two of you had alone and in a fancy hotel room like this one the NHL had set you up in, oh things got spicy.

But as much as you had loved spending the night enjoying jut each others company, you were both over the moon when you picked Myla up from her grandparents' room the next morning and brought her back to your bed for a slow morning before Mat had to get back hockey.

"Hi, baby girl." Mat's morning voice was deep and raspy and made you want to bring your baby right back to her grandparents to slip back under the covers with him. But cuddling with your baby under the sheets was a different kind of satisfaction that you loved just as much.

Mat pressed kissed to her cheeks that had gotten a lot chubbier when she started eating solid food a couple of months ago, making her laugh uncontrollably. She loved to eat. Anything you cooked her she'd eat. And tons of it. Just like her dad. But you were also still breastfeeding her, a sweet bonding moment for the two of you.

The room service Mat had ordered while you were off getting Myla came soon after while you were feeding her, so Mat set up the trays for you in bed. Though eating breakfast in bed with an 8 months old turned out to be more of a hassle than the slow morning you'd envisioned. She was crawling all over the huge bed, trying to throw herself off the mattress every couple of minutes or getting her little fingers in your food, dirtying the sheets. But you live and you learn and you definitely learned that what had once been your favorite way to spend the morning may have to be delayed until she was older.

"Here, do you want some avocado?" You handed your daughter a slice of avocado which you picked from your toast, when Mat finally pulled her into his lap. She accepted gladly, shoving it into her mouth. As you continued eating, you watched Mat interact with Myla, who was making silly faces and noises to make her laugh. But he was the one to laugh when she held up that chewed up piece of avocado to his lips. He made a disgusted face, but he could resist her offer of sharing and bit off a piece of the slice, swallowing quickly.

The rest of the morning was over a lot sooner than you wanted and before you knew it Mat was back at the rink and you barely saw him for the rest of the day. You cheered him on during the skills competition for as long as you could before Myla was over it and you took her back to the hotel room.

The next day was basically a repeat of the previous day, only really seeing Mat when he got back from the game. He slipped under the sheets with you, gladly letting you congratulate him for the amazing weekend he had.

When you were cuddling watching TV a bit later and Mat reached for his phone, something caught your eye. "Mathew." You practically ripped his phone out of his hands and locked it to inspect his lock screen. Your jaw dropped in disbelief and you jumped to your knees. "Mathew!"

"What?," he asked confused then yelped when you lightly slapped his naked chest. He threw his arms up in confusion, so you turned the phone around to face him to show him his lock screen. You could not believe it. You couldn't believe that he had actually changed his wallpaper from a sweet picture of baby Myla to one of him and Justin Bieber.

"What?," he asked again, but this time grinning. "So cool, right?"

"No! You abandoned your daughter for him?" Needless to say you weren't Justin's biggest fan. His music was alright but as a person you weren't a fan of him.

"I did not abandon her! You're so dramatic." He rolled his eyes laughing at you and took his phone back. "It's just a picture and I'll change it back in a few days."

"You better pay me those $50," you said pointing at him, before laying back down beside him.

"What $50?"

"Liana bet me $50 that that is exactly what you would do. That you'd change your wallpaper to that picture. But I had faith in you!" Mat laughed beside you, then pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"You're so dramatic," he chuckled. "I'll change it back."

Once you felt like he'd kissed and sweet talked you enough to make up for it, you grabbed your phone to tamed Liana.

You: I owe you $50

Liana: HAHAHAHAHA

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #unexpected series #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey fics #hockey imagine #new york islanders

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mvybanks · 1 year

Text

THE DEAL - chapter two

a/n: hiii, finally finished ch.2, i hope you guys like it and that you fall in love with these two because i’m enjoying writing for them a lot!!!! let me know what you think if you want!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT , lots of touching and kissing, rafe is very cocky and hot (that probably needs a warning)

word count: 4.6k

my masterlist the deal masterlist

pairing: frat!rafe x innocent friend!reader

add yourself to my taglist <3

add yourself to my rafe taglist <3 (if you want to be added only to the taglist of this series you can specify it in the end note of the form!)

—

“Okay, tell me you’ve got it now, please,” you groaned in frustration as you let the side of your head fall back against the wall beside you.

You and Rafe had been at this for at least twenty minutes and all he had to do was learn how to use a coffee machine; how was he going to become at least a mediocre barista if he couldn’t press a couple of buttons on a machine?

“Yeah, I guess?” It was more of a question rather than an answer and you mentally facepalmed yourself.

This man was definitely not going to make your life easy.

However, you couldn’t lie to yourself, he looked adorable in his brown apron and with that focused expression on his face as he tried to understand what he was supposed to do. He was driving you mad with his incompetence, but in the end you knew he had always been a rich kid who probably never worked a day in his whole life. You still didn’t know why he needed a job but you didn’t pry.

It had been two days since you made a deal with him: you were willing to train him for a job if he was going to help you with your sexual inexperience. You did your best to forget about the latter part of the deal as you worked with him, you both needed to focus on the task ahead instead of what you were going to do after.

Matthew, your boyfriend, obviously knew nothing about your little arrangement; the truth was that you were embarrassed of telling him you were a virgin, he made you nervous, while with Rafe, for some reason, everything was easy and you felt comfortable, perhaps it was knowing that you didn’t have to see him again if things went south. You weren’t cheating on your boyfriend, not really, you only wanted to have some kind of experience before anything could happen between you; that wasn’t wrong…right?

“What if I wanted a…” you seemed to think about it, “a latte, what do you do now?” You asked, looking at the coffee he had finally worked into a ceramic mug.

He took the clear plastic bottle that contained the fresh milk and poured it inside the tall, metallic cup, side eyeing you in the process for he wanted your reassurance that he was doing good.

You chuckled lightly, “that’s right, you’re getting it.”

Finally, he grew more confident and finished the job effortlessly; at least he knew how to make two types of coffee now, you thought.

“Should I make some kind of drawing on it or something?” He glanced at the simple surface of the beverage.

“Cameron, you barely know how to make coffee, let’s just stick to that for now.”

He rested his lower back against the counter and sipped on the drink in his hand, for it would’ve gone to waste otherwise.

“You’re meaner than I thought, doll,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes at him, although the small grin you were hiding didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m no teacher, I don’t have the patience for that,” you crossed your arms on your chest in defeat, realizing he wasn’t wrong about your hostile behavior, “but you’re right. I’m sorry if I lost it a bit.”

He shrugged, “no apologies needed. It was very entertaining.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re hot when you’re mad,” he sent you his signature cocky smile and made his way to the customer who had just walked inside the Cocoa Corner, the café and bakery you were working at, leaving you a flustered mess behind the counter.

He was irritating, frustrating, the last person you would’ve ever wanted to work with, and yet, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your body every time he gave you one of his breathtaking smiles or made those flirty comments about you, the same ones you rolled your eyes at in front of him but thought about for hours after.

The first day of work was kind of a disaster for him; he broke more mugs that you could count and you had to give for free at least five or six muffins to apologize for the many inconveniences that he caused throughout the day. Once the rainy afternoon was replaced by a starry night, you and Rafe still found yourself inside the kitchen as you taught him how to balance more than only two mugs on the serving tray.

“Hold it with your hand under the tray and use your whole palm,” you explained to him as you showed him exactly what to do, “and if you think it’s too heavy, help yourself with your other hand; it’s better than letting everything fall to the ground.”

“How the fuck do people make it seem so easy?”

He followed your directions and it seemed to work as he walked around the tables, “actually, you know what? I’m a natural.”

You laughed at his words, knowing full well he was everything but that, “oh yeah, definitely.”

He didn’t miss the sarcasm in your tone and turned around to glare at you with a false offended look. “You’re just jealous because you could never be as good as me.”

“And thank God for that.”

He closed the distance between you two with a smirk on his face and bent his head to whisper in your ear, “we’ll see how good you are when you’re not the boss of me tomorrow.”

It took you a couple of seconds to regain your dignity before you scoffed at his words and pulled away from him, “you’re an asshole, you know that?”

Walking backwards as he put the tray down and undid his apron, “oh, you love it, sweetheart,” he said before taking his things from the employers’ rack.

“In your dreams, Cameron.”

You followed his actions and turned all the lights off when the sound of the door opening and closing behind you made you believe he had left without even saying goodbye.

Typical.

As you began to check if everything was in order, coffee machine turned off and with it the oven, his voice startled you.

“Want a ride, doll?”

Your hand flew to your chest, trying to calm your fast-beating heart down from the scare he had just given you.

“God! I thought you left.” You closed your eyes for a second and looked back at him, leaned against the window with his arms crossed and and a grin on his face; he did it on purpose the fucker.

“And by the way, I have a name,” you continued, referring to the nicknames he insisted on using for you.

“Oh I know, it’s just funny to see you get all red when I call you doll.”

You groaned and walked past him, towards the door, the keys of the building in your hand. He stepped outside with you and silently watched you as you locked the door and made sure everything was sealed and secured properly.

“You’re staring, Cameron,” you said, annoyed at his antics, as you gave him your back.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What?”

At that point, you only knew how to roll your eyes at each other, although you were both secretly amused by the other, “I asked you if you wanted a ride. Jeez, I try to be a gentleman for once and this is what I get in return,” he looked up at the sky and pointed to you as he spoke, as if he was talking to someone about you.

You shook your head and hid your smile, “I can walk.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you do that,” he threw an arm around your shoulders, affectionately, and walked you to his car.

“You’re not letting me walk home now? When I thought you couldn’t be more annoying, here you are again, proving me wrong.”

“I’m glad you know I’m always right.”

“How did you get that from what I said?”

He shrugged, “read between the lines.”

As you approached his car, he opened the door for you and let you get inside the passenger seat. To say you were shocked was an understatement, he really was different than you thought; no one had ever opened a car door for you and although it might’ve been a simple gesture, you couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it had been for him to do something like that.

“So, where am I taking you?” He asked when he took his place at the driver’s seat.

You explained to him how to get to your apartment and he started the car. The ride was silent but comfortable at the same time, it brought a sense of peace to you and you couldn’t understand why. The radio played a soft tune and he unconsciously started to hum to it while you had to look away from the sight of him driving his expensive car; why was it so attractive to you?

When you stopped gawking at him, you tried to focus on the song that was playing, realizing it was by Taylor Swift, and the snort you let out was unexpected and unplanned. He glanced at you for a second before giving his attention to the road again.

“What’s so funny?” Rafe curiously asked, the shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Were you really singing to Taylor Swift? You?”

He thanked whoever was up there for the darkness that was inside the vehicle because he was sure his cheeks had to be beet red.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you,” he jokingly said, pulling up to a stop, right in front of your apartment complex.

“But then how are you going to live without me?”

In the end, he couldn’t hide his smirk anymore and turned his body to look at you, “I’ll manage.”

“Asshole,” you chuckled.

“‘S that my new nickname?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s your birth name. First name Ass, last name Hole.”

“Pretty unfortunate combination.”

Finally, you laughed, you couldn’t contain it anymore and he was thankful for that because he was sure he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his whole life. He’d had to work more for a real laugh from you than anything else in his life and the result was sweeter than he had thought.

You shook your head and let your head fall against the headrest before turning to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He grinned, and it was the first genuine one he had ever given to you, “definitely,” he rasped.

You gave him a sweet, tight-lipped smile and reached for the handle of the car door, opening it and stepping outside of the vehicle soon after.

“Thank you for the ride,” you told him as you bent down to look at him through the opened door.

“Anytime.”

“Goodnight, Cameron.”

You closed the door and stopped yourself from smiling again when he rolled the window of the passenger seat down.

“Goodnight, doll.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by you how he waited until you were inside and closed the door of the building behind you before he started the car again and drove away.

You didn’t know why he managed to push all your buttons, for some reason he was a master at that and it drove you crazy in the best way possible; you could never admit that to yourself though. Rafe Cameron was known for his long line of meaningless hookups and for relationships that didn’t even last one week, before he caught the attention of some other poor victim.

However, you found out that he wasn’t as bad as you had thought, he was actually a pretty good guy, at least that was the only compliment you could give him because you didn’t want to admit to yourself how much you liked his company. He was a friend and he was starting to be a really good one, too, and nothing else.

The next day, you and him were meeting at the Delta Mu house, where he had been living for almost two years, and you were dying of embarrassment for you were afraid of walking inside the intimidating building. He had told you beforehand that he had explained to his roommate that you were going to study together for a project, therefore no one was supposed to send you any weird looks as you stepped inside.

It was late in the afternoon when you arrived outside and found the door already opened, which gave you the green light to see for yourself how those guys really lived in those buildings. It was quieter than you had believed and you soon found some guys sprawled out on the couch of the common room, talking and laughing, while others were sitting at a table in the opened kitchen, books in front of them as they were…studying?

It wasn’t bad at all and you believed it was completely the opposite, comfortable and cozy. You didn’t realize that the person you were looking for was sitting on the armrest of the couch, until he turned around and walked over to you.

“Hey,” Rafe greeted you with a nod of his head and you only smiled at him, putting your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Hey.”

“Wanna go upstairs?”

Your eyes traveled to the rooms that were on the open space of the second floor and then back at him, “yeah, sure.”

It was awkward, it wasn’t as easy as it had been the day before and you hated it. He was wearing a white t-shirt that gave absolutely nothing to the imagination of what he might’ve looked underneath, black jeans and a red and white baseball cap; you wanted to punch yourself in the face for gawking at how attractive he looked in that moment. When you got to his room, he motioned for you to go inside and closed the door behind him.

“It’s not as chaotic as I thought it would be” You said, referring to the ambience of the frat house.

He raised one eyebrow, “you do know we’re not animals, right?”

“That’s not what I meant! I-“

“Calm down, doll. I was just messing with you.”

You gave him a death stare that lasted less than a second before a stupid grin took over your features.

He was leaning with his back against the wooden door, his arms crossed on his chest as he looked at you up and down, standing in the middle of his room and feeling completely out of your element.

“Are you just going to stand there?” You finally asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, slightly flipping it to the side and hypnotizing the man in front of you in the process. Now, he wanted nothing more than to do exactly what you had come there for, so he crossed the room with a couple of strides and stood before you.

“Alright, tell me what you want me to show you.”

Your cheeks flushed, except it wasn’t about being embarrassed but only the natural warmth that his body so close to yours brought you.

“I-I mean, I told you what the deal was about.”

“Right, but I don’t know where you want me to start.”

You looked up at him, your confidence from the day before all gone as you felt small when his eyes stared into yours, “the basics?”

He nodded once, “we could…” he cleared his throat; why was he feeling shy around you all of a sudden?

“We could make out, if that’s okay.”

He almost cringed at his words, he felt like a teenager having his first experience with a girl and it scared and excited him all at once.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“You said you wanted to know how to pleasure a man-“

You pushed him slightly, putting a hand on his chest as you both chuckled, “can you stop doing that?”

“There she is again,” he muttered, “alright, I’m serious now. What I was saying is that you can do that by kissing him, too.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “oh, how?”

“Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed the visor of his cap and turned it so that it rested on the back of his head; bending his neck to close the distance between your faces, he wrapped one arm around your middle, pushing your fronts together, not an inch between you. His other hand tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you stopped yourself from sucking in a breath at the touch as his palm made contact with your cheek.

His lips hovered over yours and his breath hit your mouth as you breathed into each other; he was making you crave him, he wanted you to want this, to ask for this. Without ever touching your lips, or anyway not the way you wanted him to, he began pressing his mouth against the corner of yours, then on your cheek and down to your neck.

You hated how much you were aching for him. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as he left sloppy kisses on the exposed skin of yous while you tilted your head back to give him more access. His hands remained in safe areas, never quite touching you in an inappropriate manner, and yet that made you need his touch even more.

His lips reached your ear and gently bit your lobe as you stifled a moan, “you want him to ask you to kiss him,” he rasped, “he has to beg you. It’s all about the buildup, make him desperate.”

You nodded, not trusting your words, and he raised his head to look at your face, your hands falling at your sides as he admired your eyes full of lust and your cheeks wearing a rosy blush. Once his shyness had been replaced by desire, he knew he was going to enjoy this a lot.

“Your turn,” he continued.

You shakily placed your hands back around his neck and you both chuckled when you realized that he was too much taller than you to make this work. Wordlessly, he walked backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of his bed and he sat on it, motioning for you to do the same. When you stood before him, he put his hands on your hips and pulled you down on his lap, successfully and easily reaching his goal thanks to the weakness he had caused in your knees. They sat on either side of him as your bottom hovered right above his crotch; this position gave you the upper hand, making you tower over him and look down at those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You did exactly as he told you and teased his lips, almost leaning in to kiss him but never giving him the satisfaction. Your heavy breaths fanned out on his cheek, brushing over the skin without kissing it, and then your lips slowly reached his jaw, leaving a soft kiss and letting your lips linger a little bit longer than necessary. His fingers squeezed your hips and that was all you needed to realize your actions were working on him. You trailed your lips down to his neck, exactly like he had done to you, and the sound of your mouth smacking against his skin was too much for him; why did you have to be such a good student?

When his hands, experimentally, traveled down to your bottom, grabbing it, you let out an unexpected gasp mixed with a moan, completely ruining him.

With one hand, he gently gripped your hair to force your head up, “kiss me,” he growled on your lips and you obliged, a smirk playing on your features at the realization that you had won whatever game was going on between you.

He licked your bottom lip, asking you to grant him access to your mouth, and you did; you let his tongue explore your mouth and fight with your own for domination, losing very quickly when he squeezed your behind. Neither of you had ever felt so aroused by a first kiss, but you pushed the thought away; this was professional, that was what you had told him.

Although his head was spinning at the taste of your cherry chapstick and the way you were letting him kiss you, he still noticed how your hands never left the back of his neck, stuck in one position.

He reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, “use your hands a little, doll.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “how? What am I supposed to do with them?”

Rafe maintained eye contact when the hand that was on your head slowly traveled down from your neck to your back, tracing your spine and causing you to shudder. With his other hand, he grabbed your upper thigh and then went back to your hip and up your waist, until it almost touched your breast, making your breath hitch in your throat at the thought of having his skillful hands on your chest.

“Make him want more.”

He gripped your chin with the fingers that had previously been on your back and pulled your bottom lip from the grasp of your teeth, an action you hadn’t even noticed you were doing. Finally, he went back to kissing you; not because he wanted you to show him you had learned what he had just taught you, but because he was dying to have your lips again.

You tentatively brought your hand from his neck down to his chest and his stomach, dragging your manicured nails down the shirt covered skin, so slowly that he unexpectedly let out a groan in your mouth. You took that as your cue to continue with your teasing, therefore you placed your other hand on the back of his head and took the visor of his snapback to throw it carelessly somewhere in the room, before you began scratching his scalp gently and pushing him further against you, playing with the little hairs of his buzzcut.

You weren’t sure of what you were doing, you took risks that you wouldn’t have taken with someone else, and suddenly, you weren’t feeling self-conscious around him, not even a little bit, for he made you feel bolder with each movement.

When his hand slipped under your top, his large palm pressing against your naked skin, he caused a shiver to run throughout your whole body. And yet, you didn’t stop him; he was just teaching you, right? It was only fair you mirrored his actions.

Your hand traveled down to his upper thigh, looking for the bottom of his shirt until you accidentally brushed your fingers against the bulge in his pants, which caused a hiss to leave his lips as his free hand grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Not there, doll,” he rasped.

Your cheeks were on fire, mortified of what you had just done, “sorry.”

“‘S okay. C’mere.”

His lips met yours again and guided your hand under his shirt, his skin burning at your touch. He didn’t know why goosebumps began littering his skin when your palm made contact with his naked skin, he tried to shake the feeling off, believing it was the cold air that made him shudder; it couldn’t have been because of your touch, right?

Unbeknownst to him, you were asking yourself the same question and for a moment, you completely forgot you weren’t doing this for yourself, but it was hard to remember that when his hands were on you.

For he couldn’t take the heat anymore, he pulled away from you for a second to reach behind his back and take his shirt off, giving you the perfect sight of his abs. You weren’t given a moment to react because his lips looked for yours immediately, craving and tasting you again, only you. Perhaps he had been thinking about this since the first time you had given him one of those witty remarks of yours, but he was never going to admit that.

The feeling of your nails dragging down his naked chest was driving him insane, the bulge in his pants becoming more uncomfortable by the second. When you accidentally moaned in his mouth, he was done. He wrapped one arm around your waist and in one swift motion, he manhandled you until your back hit the mattress of his bed, never leaving your lips in the process.

Scratching his bare back, you caused him to groan and press your body further into the bed.

“Rafe,” you mumbled against his soft lips as you slightly pulled away, “I think we should stop.”

“Whatever you want, doll,” he breathed and rested his forehead on yours.

Did you really want to stop? You asked yourself, although you already knew the answer to that. You looked up at his cerulean eyes, losing yourself in them and feeling the intensity of his stare all of a sudden.

He couldn’t stop admiring the color of your eyes up close, entranced by the way they were hiding a thousand words that you didn’t want to admit to yourself you wanted to say. His eyes flickered to your swollen lips for a moment and he knew it was going to be impossible for him to forget about this.

“It’s probably getting late,” you whispered, not being able to lie about not wanting to continue the session, because you were aching to keep going, to see where he would’ve taken it, but you couldn’t.

He restrained himself with every single last bit of strength and self control he had from kissing you one last time before he rolled his body off of yours and gave you some space to regain your breath.

You turned your head to glance at him and he did the same, at which you both chuckled. “You sure as hell don’t have anything to worry about your making out skills,” he rasped.

“I had never done that before.”

“What?”

“Kissing someone like that, like you want something more than just a kiss. It had never happened to me.” You looked away from him as you spoke, scared he might’ve thought you were a freak for never doing something as simple as that, but instead, his next words took you by surprise.

“Huh, sounds like you hadn’t kissed the right person.”

You raised from the bed and adjusted your hair and clothes, disheveled after everything that had happened.

“My boyfriend is good to me,” you only said while you looked at him as he placed his weight on his elbows on either side of him.

“Never said that he wasn’t.”

“You were implying it.”

He sighed and took the shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the ground, before he put it back on. “If you thought that I was doing that, maybe it’s because you were thinking the same thing.”

“You’re not perfect, Cameron.”

He stood up and towered over you, “I never said that either, but then again, if you believed I was implying it, maybe you’re the one who was thinking it in the first place.”

You pushed him slightly by placing your hands on his chest, “you’re still insufferable,” you groaned.

Bending his head to put his lips next to your ear, he whispered “and you’re still so goddamn beautiful, but we all gotta make our peace with that, don’t we?”

Oh, how much he loved making you blush with only a couple of words.

“Don’t be late tomorrow,” you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had made you a flustered mess with only that foul mouth of his; “Saturday morning rush, you have to come in early.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You hoped your knees were strong enough to walk you to the door after the weakness he had brought to them. You stepped outside and glanced back at him.

“Bye, Cameron.”

“See you tomorrow, doll.”

And the only thought crossing your mind as you descended the stairs of the building was: why was your heart beating faster at the reminder alone of his hands on your body?

taglist:

@gemofthenight @vigilanteshitposting @m-indkiller @dearreader03 @4starg1rl @buckysdogtagss @yoonabeo @iruzias @babypoguelife @c0untryclub @poppet05 @earth2starkey @rosie-cameron @illicitfixations @valel07 @lilmaybank @palmwinemami @marzipaanz @buckyandlokirunmylife @laineywilsons @sweetestdesire @blobfidhhhhh @bungunz @guililove @slut4starkey @lemur46 @colbysbrocks @piceous21 @magnificantmermaid @chaostudee @rafesmoon @drink-graywater @ravenclawaddict5285 @justaboymom819 @dandyfordaffodils @pickingviolets @queenvane64 @fallingwallsh @Chibijustuff @mistalli @loverofdrewstarkey @rafelvrs @winchestwhores14 @stwrkeys @imawhoreforu @fangirl-madz @papillonoirsworld @rafexgold @onedayatatime6 @writtenwordslover @canarysposts @screan @demiioxox @fishingirl12 @cilliansangel @massiveprincesshologram @boo22sstuff @tylerb-r-b @mattyskies @lovedrewstarkey @rafecluver @diary-of-jj @tellytuby @wvnternvghtt @ilovetvd08

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

Note

Hob is the wedding singer hired to perform at Dream's wedding reception(s) (.........each time he's left at the altar.). A 5+1 romcom.

Hob was hired as a joke by Dream's friends for his wedding reception -- Dream's super intense about his romances and all in for getting married (and his parents/family are soooo buttoned up) that a wedding singer like Hob should (hopefully) losen things up.

1. Dream's wedding is called off a week or two before; Hob charges his 75% cancelation fee;

2. Dream is left at the altar this time; Hob sees him in passing. He charges his full rate since he was ready to go and all set up;

3. A pregnant Calliope calls off the wedding the day of, and since the reception venue is attached to where she and Dream were going to be married, she talks Dream into eating cake and dancing with her -- they'll co-parent, but one of them had to be honest about how ill-suited they were for each other. Hob tries to make sure everyone has fun --- and sees Dream for the first time and is smitten by the sad sack pretty man dancing oh so poorly with the hugely pregnant lady;

4. Left at the alter again (and knowing Hob was at the reception venue), Dream's friends (Matthew, Jessamy, Lucienne, Joanna, Cori) drag him to drink and dance to Hob's singing. Hob finally gets to talk to his favorite broken hearted cutey;

5. At this point, Hob and Dream are friends (it took a while for Dream to get with the program) and while Hob really really likes Dream (he loves him so much), Hob could only watch the train wreck of Dream asking another person who doesn't really understand (or love him like Hob) to marry him.

Hob was not hoping for a repeat of the runaway bride/groom (above all he wants Dream to be happy) .....but on the off chance Hob was bad luck for Dream's weddings,,,,,,Hob agreed to sing at the reception; and

+1. Hob refused to sing for his own wedding!! He needs all the good luck he can muster to secure Dream as his husband.

I live for the idea of Hob being like "Hmm. I like this weird little man. Let me study him like a bug. And also marry him."

And listen, Hob prides himself on the fact that all the couples he's sung for have been very successful! Not a single divorce among them! Dream is managing to spoil that record all by himself, and Hob is determined to see this poor wet cat happily settled down.

He pulls out ALL the stops with romantic playlists and backdrops, sexy lighting, the whole shebang. He's never tried so hard to make his set a success, but he's determined to make the ambience perfect for Dream.

And it still doesn't work. Calliope seems like a lovely lady, though. She even thanks Hob for putting in so much effort. And says she hopes to see him at Dream’s next wedding. Oof.

Admittedly at weddings number 4 and 5, Hob is less determined to make the whole thing a success. He's not actively sabotaging them (Dream definitely doesn't need his help in failing to get married)... but he's not exactly sad when he gets to put his arm around the poor abandoned groom and comfort him in his hour of need. At number 5 Dream falls asleep with his head in Hob’s lap while he sings a soft lullaby, and Hob decides right then and there that there will be no more failed weddings. HE is marrying Dream, and he's not going to let anything stop him.

And so he doesn't perform at their wedding (because he's secretly afraid that it might bring bad luck). And they do make it to the altar, and through the vows, and to the reception - without a single hitch. Dream doesn't seem to stop smiling all day, and it's like he can hardly believe it when they cut the cake and have the first dance. Hob catches him pinching himself several times, which is just adorable.

And much, much later, when they finally tumble into bed to enjoy a sleepy, cozy wedding night... Hob sings Dream to sleep with "I do" by ABBA, and they start the rest of their lives together. Hob is determined to regain his record of 100% successful marriages, and he's not letting Dream go!!

#the sandman #dreamling

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richiekirschs · 11 months

Text

SHE’S MY BABY — Spider-Man!Lottie Matthews

and i hope you don’t save some other girl…

warnings— fem reader (she/her used), typical spider-man shenanigans, gun mentions, ooc lottie probably

[part 1]

lottie: when did you want to get coffee

lottie: 11:15 at little collins?

you: isn’t that in the city?

lottie: yeah but i can venmo you for the ferry fee

you: no it’s fine i can take the bridge

lottie: ok see you tmrw

you: here

you: sitting in a booth towards the back

Lottie’s late.

You’re anxiously checking your phone screen over and over, trying to make sure you haven’t missed any rain-check texts.

11:28. Nothing.

You fidget in your seat, bouncing your leg, looking at the door with hopeful eyes whenever the bell chimes.

At exactly 11:30, the door swings open, a frantic Lottie rushing in from the other side.

“I’m sorry!” she immediately says, collapsing into the booth. “This guy stole an old lady’s purse, and then—“

“Lottie,” you interrupt, “calm down. I’m not mad, I just thought you forgot.”

“No,” she promises, still a bit out of breath. “No, I actually swung over here.”

“What, like, with your webs?”

“Would you lower your voice?” she hisses.

“It’s New York, Lot,” you deadpan. “I literally saw a man taking a shit on the sidewalk.” You lock eyes with a man at the counter, leaning back to stretch his arms. You jerk your thumb at Lottie as you say, “She’s Spider-Man.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says before turning back to his phone.

You sip from your drink. “So how exactly did this happen? Is this your weird attempt at a fursona?”

“It’s not a fursona,” she mumbles defensively. “I got bit by a spider. I guess it was, like, radioactive or something.”

“Radioactive?” you repeat. “Like the dogs in Chernobyl?”

“Yeah,” she replies, “except I didn’t grow any extra teeth like those fish. I fell onto this lady on the subway the night after and my hand got stuck to her shirt, and I… ripped it off…” She flushes pink.

“How the fuck did that happen?”

“I’m, like… sticky,” she informs you, embarrassed as she flexes her hands. You wrinkle your nose at sticky. “And I get these weird tingles right before something happens.”

“Does the web come out of you?” you question, genuinely intrigued.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “I don’t have extra legs, though, before you ask.”

“How’d you get out last night?”

“I put the suit back on in the shower, then went back out the window. I went down the balcony into your bedroom. Natalie came in, though, so I hid on… the ceiling…” As the words leave her mouth, she clearly realizes how weird it sounds.

“I’m impressed, Lot,” you admit. “It’s been a year, and I never would’ve guessed it was you. I thought you had some secret lover and that’s why you were sneaking around.”

It’s her turn to wrinkle her nose. “God, no. I felt really bad about always leaving you, though.”

You shrug. “It’s definitely not as bad as when Tai and Van coincidentally sneak off to go have sex. They’re not even subtle about it.”

Lottie laughs, but she shifts uncomfortably, like someone just licked their finger and stuck it in her ear.

You frown. “You okay?”

She looks up, but it’s almost like she’s looking through you. Her eyes track movement in the window at your back.

She grabs her backpack. “I have to go.”

You turn around, but there’s nothing there. You whip back around to face her. “What the hell, Lottie?”

“I’m sorry!” she insists. “I’ll—I’ll call you, okay?”

She doesn’t give you time to respond before she’s sprinting out the door of the café, chasing down whatever she’d seen behind you.

You’re upset, to say the least.

You walk back to the ferry parking garage where you’d parked, grinding your teeth. If it were a cartoon, you might have steam coming out of your ears.

You have to take three laps around the garage before you finally find your car.

But as you approach your car, you can see a figure yanking at your driver’s side door.

“Hey!” you shout. “What the fuck?”

“This your car?” he asks.

“I’m not shouting at you for fun,” you snap.

“Give me your keys,” he commands.

“No, I’m not gonna give you my keys!”

He shoves his hand into the pocket of his jacket and points it at you. “Give me the fucking keys!”

“I can see your thumb sticking out, I know you don’t have a gun! It’s a piece of shit anyway, just back off—“

He starts forward, but he only gets a few steps in before something shoots past you—you literally blink and miss it, and when you look back at the man attempting to carjack you his hand is stuck to the wall with a fucking web.

Fucking Lottie.

“I thought she told you to back off, man,” Lottie sighs.

“Why do you sound like that?” the man asks, which is the same thing you’re wondering.

You know it’s Lottie, of course. But she’s using some weird, Ghostface-esque voice modulator.

“Sound like what?” she bluffs.

“No, I heard you earlier,” the man insists, “when you were chasing me. I know what a girl sounds like.”

“I’m not a girl!” Lottie shouts. “I’m a boy! Fuck—a man!”

If you hadn’t just been a victim of an attempted carjacking (and possibly murder), you would’ve bust out laughing. Lottie’s voice sounded very Mickey Altieri—it’s time, girlfriend!

“Man, I really don’t care,” the man shrugs, defeated.

Lottie mumbles, “Interrogation mode, off,” before turning back to you. “Go home, okay?”

You nod, surprisingly relieved by Lottie saving the day. You get into your car and turn the key.

“That’s gonna dissolve in 2 hours, okay?” Lottie tells the man, who’s still stuck to the wall.

“What?” he exclaims. “No, I need to get home!”

She jogs off. “2 hours! You deserve that!”

You can’t help but laugh as you start your drive home.

KITTY MEOWS! I pray this was as good as y’all wanted it to be… the second half is very heavily based on the scene of Donald Glover in Homecoming I thought it would be silly for Lottie 😞

#lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #courtney eaton

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faithst · 1 year

Text

LIVESTREAMS WITH ZB1

pairing zb1 x idol!reader

genre mostly comedy, maybe fluff ? reader is in zb1 🤝

warnings mentions of food/drinks in hao and hanbin’s

notes hi anon, thank you for requesting ! i didn’t want this to be romantic as idol life is,, something.. but still, i hope you enjoy this ! 🫶

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

you’re playing drinking games

and before you ask, no. it’s not actual alcohol

you mix up the most unhinged drink combinations

like soy milk + tea + mountain dew 😃

the drink literally has particles in it

you play the ‘of course’ game and it turns ugly real quick

“you know that i’m better than you at everything, right?” zhanghao says, feeling proud

“of course! zhanghao.. you know that hanbin loves me more, right?” a smirk tugging on your lips that zhanghao so desperately wanted to slap off

loses the game because of that and has to chug down every drop (he’s ok tho i think)

“you’re lucky we’re live right now.”

— sung hanbin

since he was a barista, you guys are making drinks

he teaches you some tips and tricks but it’s more complicated than you think

his drink is so much more visually pleasing than yours although you both followed the same steps 😭

like pretty gradient colors that blend well together

but it’s expected cuz he’s a professional

you do a taste test

and his drink tastes like heaven 👍

you offered yours to him and he tries it

ngl, you were nervous about his opinion

“uh, it’s definitely a new experience.”

— seok matthew

some kind of crafts live

where you both are making those bead bracelets

you make ones for eachother and also the other members !

and matthew is all like ‘oh, you’re gonna love what i made for you’

he’s so proud of his creations

and at some point he accidentally spills every bead onto the table 😭

and you both take a look at eachother like 😐

and it becomes quiet for a whole 5 minutes as he picks everything back up

after that, you both continue making bracelets for the other members 🫶

“jiwoon hyung likes this color, i know him better than you!”

— shen ricky

painting live

you guys are making paintings to hang on eachothers walls

it’s actually pretty chill with ricky 👍

but then he accidentally splattered some paint onto his designer white shirt

his honest reaction to that: ☹️

but its okay, he can just buy a new one. maybe get a car too while he’s at it

since ricky is really good at arts

you wanted to paint him smth nice too

so you just put your autograph onto the canvas

he loves it tho and keeps it in his room 😔

“i can sell this!”

— park gunwook

workout stream

it was actually supposed to be a live for gunwook and matthew

but matthew had to do smth else

so you offered to accompany gunwook instead !

gunwook shares his workout tips and you just nod and agree

you both share your workout routines and people make articles abt them 🫢

‘zb1’s gunwook and y/n workout routine: is it effective?’

oh and you also get thirst trap edits bcuz of this

flaunting your muscles and abs and stuff idk 😭

“do you guys wanna know the secret to my godly physique?”

— kim taerae

from the content we have now..

it’s 100% a karaoke live

wbk he loves singing and he wanted to invite you to ‘taerae show #2’

has his anpanman guitar, ready at hand 🤝

you both have a blast singing and taerae becomes main rapper at some point

he’s so immersed in the ballad songs, he prolly starts crying for effects 😔

biggest hypeman

like he’s all ‘OH MY GOD WOAHHHH’

and he also harmonises w you

don’t be surprised when you get a compilation of ‘y/n and taerae: 5th gen main vocals’

“100 points?! i’m so good!”

— kim gyuvin

q&a stream

answering fan questions and basically fan service

“is a butt one or two?”

gyuvin actually thinks about it for a second and is like “oh my god.” 😭

it got too confusing though so you continued reading the comments

someone asked what he did today and he started thinking

“uh..” “sorry, i forgot.” you joke, making gyuvin stare daggers to you 🫢

he looks back to the screen

and with a wide smile he said

“i’m sorry zerose! i think we have to end the live here. thank you for watching!”

— kim jiwoong

makeup stream

where you do his makeup

and he’s giving you those eyes yk 👀

the comments are going crazy bcuz of it

and when you do his lips, he smiles and it curves so perfectly (ahdguajskshaikahdh)

you accidentally went overboard with the glitter

but jiwoong pulls off everything so it still looks amazing

everyone loves what you did and your makeup style is trending 👍

“i think some glitter got stuck in my eye.”

— han yujin

i don’t know why but you both are face painting

but instead of face painting on yourselves, you face paint eachother

“i’m gonna make you into a piece of art” he says as he paints a streak onto your face

he stops to take a step back and look at everything from a bigger picture

and bursts into laughter 😃

you’re so worried abt what he did to you

he tries to regain his composure but laughs every few seconds

“what’s wrong? what did you do?” “nothing! i made you look very.. cool.” 😁

and then you look into a mirror and you look like shrek's offspring (yes, you get turned into a meme)

“this is my best piece yet! should i leave my signature too?”

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lucvly · 6 months

Note

i loved your chris x latina gf hc’s. could you please do one for us matt girls 🙏

— matt with a latina girlfriend hcs! ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, not proofread.

a/n: the amount of reqs i got for this omg??? also i feel the need to say i’m latina but i’m not mexican LMAO sorry to disappoint ☹️

— this isn’t matthew anymore this is mateo LMAO.

— my man was nervous about meeting your family. he kind of got freaked out hearing about the amount of people that were gonna be at the gathering.

— he asked you to help him practice greeting your family LMAOO it’s so cute. (“so, no handshakes?” “not unless you wanna get kicked out, mi vida.”)

— the family’s favorite gringo boyfriend !!

— sorry to burst some of your bubbles but this man cannot dance. sorry Not sorry !!! him dancing merengue or salsa would be sooo goofy. you tried teaching him but he just ends up stepping on you.

— your tías always try to dance with him unknowingly and he always steps on them LMFAOOAOA.

— at family gatherings he’s in the kitchen helping your mom cook and serve the food.

— you get a good laugh out of it because when your mom lets him try a spoonful of whatever she’s making his ass always has to drink at least two glasses of water because my god this man can’t tolerate spice.

— he’s always wanting to learn something new about your culture. he thinks the traditions and celebrations are super interesting.

— the fact that you’re incredibly family oriented is so attractive to him help??? he loves it. seeing you interact with your little cousins is so cute to him.

— ++ your little cousins always leech onto him at the gatherings. you’re convinced one of your baby cousins has a crush on him it’s hilarious.

— the first time you called him gringo he was like Huh??? you had to explain what it meant LMAO, your family calls him gringo a lot in a very loving way but it’s still Really funny.

— he’s such a kid bye? he’s exactly like one of those primos who’s absolutely wiped out by 10 pm. you always end up making those makeshift beds with two chairs and a blanket for him so he can take a nap.

— “y el novio?” except now your family just teases you because they know wherever you are, matt’s right there with you.

— your dad loves telling him embarrassing stories about you from back when you were a kid. it’s so bad ugh.

— surprisingly, he’s actually a really good cook. he’ll secretly ask your mom for your favorite recipes and make them for you. you think it’s the cutest thing ever. (he’s not very precise with the spices but he’s getting there.)

— takes spanish lessons without telling you so when you hear him talk to one of your tíos in spanish you’re like ?????

— he can’t roll his r’s SORRY!! you tease him for it all the time, so does your family. he thinks it’s funny because you’ve tried to help him pronounce “carro” or “burrito” over a thousand times and he still can’t do it.

— when he’s not driving, he sits in one of those plastic chairs in the backyard and drinks ice cold beer with your tíos.

— i feel like he’d be terrible at alcohol management so he’d be drunk with around three beers. your tíos get along so well with drunk matt, trust.

— spanish pet names?? he’s all for it. (“cariño”, “corazón”, “querido”.)

— + right before hanging up a call, he goes “te amo.” it’s SOO cute you’re gushing ugh.

— he definitely can’t dance but he loves listening to spanish music. i feel like he’d be a huge romeo santos and ozuna fan. argue w the wall !!

— he was so confused when you told him to take a bite of his cake and then pushed his face onto it. chris and nick were rolling on the floor laughing (he ended up doing it to them as well.)

— he asks if you can get some tres leches for his birthday because he loves it LMAOO. your dad introduced him to tres leches and it’s all he thinks about on a daily basis.

— he’s tried learning the cumpleaños feliz song– and yeah, he knows half of it, but he hasn’t managed to learn it all LMAO.

— if you grew up somewhere else, he desperately wants to go to your hometown just to get to know you better. when you do, he does everything to indulge in your culture. (going to festivals, meeting the people you grew up with, etc.)

— he loves obleas and arroz con leche. he thought arroz con leche was hella odd at first glance but once you convinced him to try it he was addicted HELP??

— ^ your mom gave him some arroz con leche to take back home because of the amount he ate throughout the whole night.

— when your family facetimes you and you’re with him it’s always: “bueno, y la boda cuándo es?” and once they say hello to you, they ask about matt and end up talking to him over the phone for like an hour.

— when you yell at him in spanish he’ll just wait until you stop and then asks you what that meant because he genuinely wants to know. his head is all: “wtf does maldito mean????”

— trying traditional candy from wherever you’re from is sooo funny. he’d be so obsessed with dulce de leche and arroz con leche, but make that man try any sort of candy with coconut in it (cocadas perhaps) and he’s fucking throwing up.

— his personal youtube channel would be active as fuck, at this point it became a vlog for the two of you with videos like: “trying traditional snacks with my gf!”, “cooking competition with y/n (she won)”, “traveling with my girlfriend.”

— he loves how many photo albums your family has. he especially loves your quinceañera album LMFAOO. you think it’s hella embarrassing because you were literally fifteen but he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

— when you cook, matt always takes some food back home and his brothers end up eating it. he gets so pissed because he strictly tells them not to touch that and since they know you cooked it, they steal it LMAO.

248 notes · View notes

starsandhughes · 7 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Six)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: five

next: seven

OCTOBER 28, 2023

these have been short lately i’m so sorry

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, leocarlssoon, and 15,688 others

yourusername welcome back to my postgame penalty box update show: MY BABY DADDY SCORED HIS FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON EDITION!

tonight, my duckies won 7-4 against the flyers! coincidentally, the only time the ducks scored 7 goals last season was also in a 7-4 win where trevor scored and stromer assisted on it! isn't that fun? yay stats! that's my mans and my hero!

you'll notice that i put 0.5 as the penalty count, and that's because z sat for a too many men bench penalty, which don't count towards his personal minutes, but he was still in the box!

and our son! he's taking after his father with his second penalty of the season! i’m so proud of you, leo! i love you! we love criminals in the zegras-hughes family <3

i’m so proud of you guys! you're 3-0 on the roadie so far, with one more game to go! this is your season, boys! i love you!

my love, i’m so incredibly happy for you, and beyond proud! here's to the first of many! (i chugged my drink when he scored to celebrate btw so if you're currently drinking— chug! chug! chug! chug!) i love you, always, sweet boy🧡

p.s. FRANKY TANKY! MY BOY! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR SECOND HATTY! YOU AND AUSTON PAPI MATTHEWS ARE NOW THE ONLY TWO IN THE NHL WITH TWO HATTIES! IT'S YOUR YEAR, BESTIE! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU! I LOVE YOU! MWAH!

p.s.s. coachy cro, never stop sending z in as the default criminal! it brings me immense joy!

tagged trevorzegras and leocarlssoon

view all 139 comments

trevorzegras i love that you love stats, my precious little weirdo! i wouldn't know my accomplishments without you telling me them🧡 i love you, forever

yourusername y/n "sissy" soon to be zegras-hughes: professional event planner, professional nerd, professional fiancé supporter

trevorzegras damn right

lhughes_06 JUST fiancé supporter?

jackhughes sissy, your brothers exit

colecaufield sissy, your friends exist

yourusername @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @.colecaufield i’m an amateur supporter of the rest of you <3

jamie.drysdale you two are bad influences on your son

yourusername YOU TAKE THAT BACK, DRYSDALE! HE CAME THIS WAY AND WE LOVE HIM!

trevorzegras we're trying our best!

leocarlssoon i take offense to this

yourusername SEE! YOU BROKE THE BABY! YOU BUMBLE FUCK BITCH!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername okay okay i’m sorry! you're doing great! you'll be a great mom to your twins! i didn't mean it!

jackhughes @/yourusername does this mean i’m your favorite ex husband?

yourusername @/jackhughes no <3

user59 when sissy says chug, you chug!

frank_vatrano thanks, y/n/n! i love you, too! your new hat trick medals are definitely a plus

yourusername ya girl has a big brain!!

frank_vatrano she does😂

maxjones98 @/yourusername how much stuff for goodie bags and awards do you actually have on hand right now?

yourusername @/maxjones98 a lot! i have so much faith in my duckies! and my other boys!

trevorzegras @/maxjones89 her craft room has a bookshelf full of the stuff she includes with drawers labeled individually for all of us

frank_vatrano @/trevorzegras doesn't she also give bags to canucks, devils, and habs when we play them?

trevorzegras @/frank_vatrano it's a huge bookshelf

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras don't forget the stack of boxes to mail first goal trophies and personal record awards

trevorzegras @/frank_vatrano what he said

maxjones98 @/trevorzegras your girl is so amazingly sweet it's insane

yourusername @/maxjones98 JONESEY! YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY!

user40 the ducks?? on a win streak?? somebody made a deal with a god

_quinnhughes i think z should be at -1

yourusername 2 minute penalty for being a rude head. go sit in your bathtub.

trevorzegras you heard my baby mama! go!

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras @/yourusername STOP WITH THE BABY DADDY AND MAMA

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes NO

yourusername MAKE ME

_quinnhughes oh dear god

user6 sissy and z are gonna make quinn go grey at 24😭

leocarlssoon i love you too mom😂

yourusername you're swimming so well!! you're such a good duckling!!!

leocarlssoon i try

yourusername you're succeeding!

user61 z pulled a quinn after he scored fr

colecaufield @/trevorzegras THAT'S MY MAN!

trevorzegras PLAY INSANE IN THE BRAIN!

yourusername his goal song might be by vanilla ice, but my mans is not vanilla

colecaufield @/yourusername why? just why?

jackhughes MY EYES

lhughes_06 AHHHH

trevorzegras @/yourusername ;)

_quinnhughes @/yourusername MINORS! THERE COULD BE MINORS READING THIS!

jamie.drysdale this is why i moved

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale stfu no it's not

colecaufield @/jamie.drysdale you were a tough soldier

user75 sissy gives no fucks about a digital footprint oh my god

_alexturcotte our boy is giving the rockettes a run for their money

yourusername his true dream is to be a vegas show girl

_alexturcotte shame he had to settle for hockey

yourusername truly

trevorzegras @/yourusername you're my new dream

yourusername @/trevorzegras that's sweet but we were teasing you and you ruined it

_alextucotte @/trevorzegras MOMENT RUINER

trevorzegras i can't win

jackhughes @/trevorzegras about time! that's my boy!

trevorzegras got these flashing lights on me🚨

yourusername that... i think made sense... i might have cracked the hockey boy code with this one!

jackhughes @/yourusername big brain

trevorzegras @/yourusername that's my girl!

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sturnsbabie · 21 days

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐎

PART THREE:PODCAST

pairing: dad!nate x sls!reader

summary: in which sls is on her brothers podcast as a guest along with nate talking about her pregnancy.

warnings: swearing,mentions of pregnancy,slightly suggestive,FLUFF.

short and rushed chapter so i can speed up the process😝

nate and i came to la for a week to visit my brothers and for me to film with them for their podcast. i was currently eight months with the twins now.

right now my brothers were during their intro for their podcast as i waited til it was time to introduce myself. i sat by chris as nick and matt were in their usual spots.

“heyyyy its me y/n!” i introduced myself.

“so if you guys didnt already know y/n is pregnant with TWIN BOYS!” nick said.

“yeah eight months pregnant exactly.” i said as i rubbed my belly.

“so today we are gonna be asking you a series of questions ranging from how you found out and how your pregnancy is going.” matt said

nick was looking at the questions he had on his phone. “what was your reaction on getting pregnant so young? how did you feel?” nick asked.

“well it was definitely scary at first being pregnant so young and still being in school at the time. i was scared nervous yet excited because i have always wanted to be a mom.” i said

“and it helped me so much that i have nate by my side.” i smiled softly thinking of him.

“what was the reasoning you guys decided to hide your pregnancy?” chris asked.

“well we just wanted to enjoy it just the two of us. we were also still in highschool at the time and we just kept it a secret.” i said softly.

“i honestly understand that so much like i dont blame you for hiding it for awhile.” nick said as he looked at more questions he had wrote down.

chris looked at me. “so tell us the meaning behind the babies names?” he said with a grin on his face knowing the meanings already.

“well owen was named after chris for his first name , thats chris’ middle name if you didnt know already.” i started as all three of my brothers looked at me smiling.

“owens middle name is matthew which is matts name. i wanted to name my babies after the people whos most important in my life and nate agreed with me.” i said with a soft smile.

“then leo we picked out leo because thats nates zodiac sign and his middle name is antonio which is nicks middle name.” i spoke as i took a sip of my drink.

“its honestly so special that you named them after us like it means so much to all three of us” matt said as chris started to tear up.

“chris are you crying?” nick asked with a chuckle.

“i just can’t believe my baby is having babies nick!” chris said sniffling.

i chuckled as i looked at him. “its okay chris cmere” i said as i opened my arms to give him a hug which he immediately accepted.

“it means so much that you named owen after me, i love you so much” chris cries into my arms.

“you’re my big brother chris, you’ve always been my biggest supporter and nobody understands the brother sister bond we both have being the youngest. i love you too chris.” i said.

matt and nick watched in awe at the sweet moment chris and his sister was sharing.

.•°♡°•.

the podcast continued on as we talked about various topics all about my pregnancy and my relationship with nate.

“alright so what are your biggest cravings right now?” matt asked me.

“definitely pickles, nate and anything spicy.” i said as i saw nate walk into the room.

“oh hey daddy” i giggled as he sat down beside of me.

chris had a face of disgust as nick was laughing. i gave nate a quick kiss as the boys introduced him as a guest.

“hey princess.” he said with a small smile as he leaned down kissing my belly.

“okay back to answering questions a few more for you y/n then the both of you can answer these next few.” nick said.

“whats a silly reason you’ve cried while pregnant?” nick asked.

“i dont even like seafood boils but ive been craving the seafood from that restaurant in cape cod and i cried about it one night when nate and i were laying in bed”i chuckled.

“yeah she cried for atleast 30 minutes”nate laughed and he had a weird look on his face when he looked at me.

the look that he had on his face made me kinda irritated.“look at me like that again and you’re not getting your dick sucked tonight” i said rolling my eyes.

“okay okay im sorry!” nate laughed.

“not happening in my house!” chris said as he took a sip of his drink.

i glared at him. “chris im literally already pregnant so what does it hurt.” i said.

“dont care still not happening” chris said throwing his hands up.

“okay moving on!” nick said as he looked at some questions on his phone.

“how did you guys find out the gender of the twins?” nick asked.

“well i got my blood drawn and they put the results in a envelope we picked it up took it to a bakery and had them make a cake filled with either blue or pink.” i started as nate looked at me.

“then we went to a little park and had a picnic and we had wine glasses that we both dug into the cake showing that we were having two boys.” nate finished the story for me.

“it was such a sweet little moment and im honestly glad that we did it just the two of us.” i said with a small smile.

after thirty more minutes of talking about various topics we finally wrapped the podcast up and just all hung out for the rest of the evening.

it was nice to spend time with my brothers after not seeing them for a few weeks. they were all crazy about their nephews. one month or less til these sweet babies are here.

TAGLIST: @sturniololoves , @shinycreationtimemachine ,

@amaliarosewood , @realuvrrr , @certifiednatelover , @chr1sgirl4life , @thatssocancelled , @aurora-merritt , @ilovechrissturniolosposts , @sturniolo04 , @luvvholly

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagines #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #mathew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagines #nate doe imagines #nathan doe smut #nate doe

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dwntwn-strnlo · 9 months

Text

GIVING UP matt sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.

↳ 𝐀/𝐍. part 2 of enchanted! go read part 1 first :)

ALSO the triplets are just drinking water or whatever bc i dont wanna cross boundaries!

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. matthew sturniolo x reader

↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. was it ever really over?

↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? kinda (a part 2 was requested by multiple ppl)

↳ 𝐂𝐖! use of y/n, slight angst, alcohol involved party, happy ending, not proofread

"please don't be in love with somebody else . . .

. . . please don't have somebody waiting on you"

enchanted - taylor swift . . . speak now, tv. 2023

your eyes landed on the tall blonde first. he was facing the opposite direction, but you knew immediately who it was. his name quickly bubbled up in your throat, but you shoved it back down as hard as you could. that was your old life, and you're still trying to get over it.

but that small sighting immediately raised red flags in your head. you knew you had to get out of that party as soon as possible. and its not like its the start of the party anyways, its close to 2am. but now that you knew one of them was here, its safe to assume all three of them are here.

"hey, i'm gonna head out," you weakly smile to your friend, a slight edge to your voice. "sorry."

clearly intoxicated, they don't say anything, they just smile and nod.

you turn around quickly, only making it a few feet before your stuck in the crowd again. internally groaning to yourself, you start shoving past people, murmuring quick "sorry"'s, and "excuse me"'s.

standing up on the tips of your toes, you look over peoples heads. trying to see how close you are to the exit.

but the only thing you find is a pair of sweetly loved blue eyes, staring back into yours.

this time you can't keep the name out of your mouth, "matt. . .?" you whisper, his name slipping right past your tongue.

. . . three and a half years ago

"matt. . ." your sentence trailed off, you didn't mean to leave the words like that, but yet you did anyway.

matt sits beside you on the couch, his hands intertwined with yours. "we can make it work, y/n. i can fly out to-"

you shake your head, cutting him off. "matt. . ."

his smile was fading, his once contempt eyes dark. he's been pushing you to go, but begging you to take you with him. never wanting to let go of you and the possible future you could have together.

"c'mon, it can't be that hard!" a sad, pathetic, weak laugh breached his lungs. his eyes clearly holding back tears as he tries to reason with you. "i'm already flying from california to massachusetts, what's one more trip? one more flight? huh? i promise we can figure it out."

. . . present day

it seemed like he had just seen a ghost, and it was latched onto your body from the way he stared at you. his eyes were wide and panicked, and he looked around quickly before landing back on you.

you honestly can't tell if he's scoping out immediate exits, or looking to see if anyone can see what he's about to do. because you definitely don't expect to see him shove past several people to get to where currently stands. right in front of you, close enough to hear your heart pounding.

"y/n," he mumbles. his eyes still wide, clearly surprised with himself in the fact that he just made his way over to you after not speaking to you in years.

"hey," you whisper, suddenly feeling small.

and he's quick to sense your unease. curtesy of being the only person in your life for two years. "you look good," he smiles, still wary of the fact that he's standing right in front of you. basking in your presence once more.

"thank you," i murmur. still in shock that im finally seeing him again.

"how's uh- how's school?" he asks, trying to talk to you, expanding the moment. "you're graduating in a few months, right?"

you laugh. "its awful," you say, running a hand through your hair.

his expression softens, a look of sadness in his eyes. you can't tell if he genuinely feels bad, or if its a look of pity. "oh." he sighs. "i'm sorry to hear that, y/n."

the fact that he called you by his name hit hard. one of the only times he's called you by your name was when you broke up, and it still hurts. nobody can say your name the way he did. and it just tore you up from the inside out.

you stared longingly into his eyes, not sure what to say. you want to say something, but you don't know what.

. . .

"if you want to give up, that's fine. i can make it work if you don't want to anymore. i just can't let go of you so easily." he mumbles, ignoring the fact that he's let several tears fall. "it doesn't have to be we can make this work, it can be i, can make this work."

. . .

"have you given up yet?" he whispered, a small, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. his voice is barely audible under the booming trap music above you, but you can pick out what he asked.

you lightly smile, "no."

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic

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deputyrook · 7 months

Text

Impressions- 5/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. PART 4.

You're a psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(You're a team.)

Word count: 4050

WARNINGS: CORRUPTION, stockholm syndrome, abusive dynamics, general Saw-levels of horror & violence. Reader is drinking the Jigsaw Kool-Aid.

“God, you’re persistent,” you tell Kerry, laying back on your couch and rubbing your temple, “Fine. Yes, I’ll go to therapy and I'll check out the community resources for Jigsaw survivors. Are you happy?”

It's not exactly a lie. You might check out the resources. Kerry's voice crackles across the line in reply: “Good. And if you’re able to remember anything while you’re there-“

Of course. It’s not that she wants you to get help, but rather, she’s hoping that you’ll pick up on some kind of psychic lead from discussing your capture and trauma with a therapist.

A swell of bitterness fills your chest, though you wish it didn't. You’d asked her to come and help you with groceries and chores today, but she’d declined, saying that she was too busy working on the case. Somehow, Mark had been coming around to help more often than she was, and he was balancing his job with being a serial killer.

Kerry’s work has always come first, and her dedication is something you had often admired. The two of you had bonded in university over a shared discomfort at parties and social events. Neither of you had ever quite fit in with the crowd. But even knowing her for as long and as well as you did, it still hurt to know the obsession came before your friendship.

“When are you going to take a break?” You ask, instead of voicing your frustration.

“When I find Eric,” she replies, steadfast. You must make some kind of a critical noise in response, because Kerry adds, “What? Do you believe it’s hopeless? That I should just give up?”

“It’s not that,” you mutter with a sigh, already regretting this line of conversation, but knowing that Kerry won’t give it up until she pulls the truth from you.

“Then what?”

“Just that maybe Matthews shouldn’t have gone and played Cowboy Cop, shooting from the hip.” You finally snap, to Kerry’s stunned silence. “You play stupid games and you win stupid prizes, Ally. If he had just listened to the rules he’d been given-"

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you right now," She says, voice sounding more shocked than angry, "Jigsaw took your eyes, put you through hell, and you’re defending him?”

“I’m not defending him,” you bite back, wondering if you are, “But Matthews was corrupt. You know that, even I know that. Sometimes, you get what you deserve."

There's a beat of silence over the phone line, and you wonder if you've taken it a step far. It almost surprises you, to hear the words coming from your mouth. A month ago, you wouldn't have believed you would feel this way, but it's true, isn't it?

Matthews had a way out, just like everyone else did. Just like you did. If he hadn't fucked around and found out, he would have been fine.

Your sympathy for the other Jigsaw victims- the other subjects- has become somewhat muted since you became one yourself. Being able to intuit all of their faults in high definition had only dulled it further.

“You think he deserved to be murdered, is that it?" Kerry asks, and if she wasn't angry before, she definitely is now. Thankfully, you know from experience that she tends to anger quickly, and cool off just as fast. "What about you, then? You got tested, too. How the hell can you say it's deserved?”

Because I deserved to be tested, too.

Something about the topic of conversation turning to you causes a vision to spring forward from the recesses of your mind, like it had simply been waiting for the most opportune moment to reveal itself.

You see yourself, standing in what appears to be a shallow pool of water in the middle of a dense forest. It is quiet and still, save for the ripples in the water caused by your movement. You can't hear any animals- the forest is silent.

You look exactly as you remember, save for a few key details- wide, white globes for eyes stare wildly back at you, and you are drenched in the water. You are soaked through and dripping, the water running down your forehead in rivets. On your head, twisted and gnarled, is a crown of some sort. At first, you think it's a crown of branches- fitting for the forest that you've found yourself in- but once you approach and look closer, you realize it's a crown of rusted, jutting metal pieces.

In your hands, you hold out a crumpled piece of paper, one you’ve somehow kept from dissolving in the water. Carefully, you take it from yourself and unfurl it, to see a wrinkled advertisement for a Jigsaw survivor support group.

Interesting. You file that piece of information away for later. Your lips are moving, but you can't hear the words. You lean in, trying to listen. It seems you're repeating something, over and over, mouthing along to an inaudible refrain.

“Hello?” Kerry's voice pulls you out of it.

“I'm sorry,” you reply. Any anger you'd been feeling is gone, shaken out of you, “My head's been all over the place."

"I know," She sighs as well, and you can feel her unspoken apology in return as she continues, "The FBI's getting involved. I've been in contact with one of their agents."

Immediately, you think back to your vision of the two dangerous people- the man and the woman.

"Damn," you remark, before you note, "He's a lot to deal with, isn't he?"

"That's putting it lightly," Kerry huffs, and you can feel her frustration not only at you, but at the FBI agents getting involved before she's been able to find Matthews herself. She feels embarrassed by it, the scrutiny and criticism only mounting the pressure she feels to find an answer, quickly.

"Tell me this," She asks then, weary, "Is everything going to be okay?"

There's a sinking in your stomach, but you lie to her, and say, "I think so."

Your words hand in the air, as if from a hangman's noose.

"Thanks," Kerry replies, and you're not sure if she believes you.

"Hey, Ally?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there. Keep your head on a swivel." You feel like you can hear the smile in her voice when she responds to you, though her tone remains grave.

"Always. You too."

---

[11:47AM - Outgoing] Did you know about the FBI getting involved in the Jigsaw case?

[11:48AM - Incoming] no.

[11:48AM - Incoming] fuck.

[11:50AM - Outgoing] That one isn't a vision either, straight from Allison

[11:51AM - Outgoing] But I've seen them, too.

[11:51AM - Outgoing] Two agents I think. They look like trouble.

[11:53AM - Incoming] thanks for the heads up

[11:54AM - Incoming] fbi... what a pain in the ass

[11:55AM - Outgoing] If they start poking around, it could be a lot worse than that

[11:55AM - Outgoing] Be careful

[11:59AM - Incoming] well how about that. you do care.

[11:59AM - Outgoing] Don't let it get to your head

---

The Jigsaw Survivor Support group meeting is held in a church basement. It's the first time you've been in a church for a long time, and the atmosphere feels weighty with the desperate prayers of its inhabitants.

Of course, there isn't an elevator. Down in the cool of the basement, a circle of chairs waits for you, and you get the sense that several men and women already seated when you arrive. Hushed voices quiet to silence as you approach, tapping your cane ahead of you.

"Oh! Hello!" A woman's voice calls out as you approach, nervous but excited. From her tone, you guess that she's an older woman. "You're new! Normally, Dr. Gordon would greet you, but he's actually away this week. He's the one who organized this group."

Doctor Gordon. Why did that name seem to strike a chord of familiarity with you?

You wince as someone takes your arm. You've learned that one major difference about being blind is that strangers are all too willing to touch you, now that they think they're being helpful.

You sure wish that they wouldn't.

The person who grabbed you by the arm leads you further into the room to a chair, "helping" you sit down. They seem a bit offended when you don't thank them, instead setting your cane beside the chair and folding your hands in your lap.

"So? What'd he take from you?" A male voice asks from across the circle, after you've settled into your seat.

"Take a guess," you reply dryly. No one in the room laughs, and you're not sure if it's better or worse that you can't actually see them all, staring and judging you. You clear your throat, and try again. "My ability to see."

"You don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to," the woman placates quickly, a note of admonishment in her tone. "Ned, you can't just ask the new people what was taken them-"

"It's okay," You interrupt, feeling surprisingly calm. Between the woman who had grabbed you, and the man who interrogated you, she had bothered you more than he had, "Not much throws me off, these days."

Reaching out with your senses, you survey the circle. A tangled mess of self-pity and loathing hits you, and you have to keep your lip from curling in a sneer of distaste. These are the survivors? You only get a hit off of one of them that doesn't repulse you- a reluctant, begrudging respect, an acknowledgement that he's made changes in his life that have improved things, since the game that he was in.

Feelings of ownership, control, responsibility- could the Jigsaw games really inspire them? Mostly, it just seemed to have traumatized these people-

These people, who were so miserable and desperate to begin with, their sins writhing inside the marrow of their bones. You have to free the sins, get the them out of the marrow to save them-

Your head throbs. The headaches have lessened considerably since you... refocused your senses, but they hadn't completely disappeared.

Briefly, you itch for a painkiller, but you ignore the craving as best as you can as you listen to each subject in the group introduce themselves.

The only name you fully register is that of the young man who you'd felt the sense of kinship with- Daniel Matthews. Hm. Isn't that ironic?

"I'm still processing everything," you say, after you introduce yourself. "But to be honest... I guess I have been seeing things in a different way."

"I'm sure you've learned to appreciate your life, and be grateful," you can hear the scowl in the man called Ned's voice. You have no idea what his test was, or how he survived, but you can hear the sarcasm in his tone- if someone here is grateful, it isn't him.

You consider the words seriously instead of taking the bait.

Had you?

"I've learned to appreciate the life that I have, rather than the one I used to wish I had," You say. You can feel the attention of the others burning on you, and it makes your skin crawl. Their judgment is like a heavy blanket over the room, and its almost suffocating. But still, the words pour out of you, too honest, too raw.

"I'm the only person who can do what I do, and the only person who can see the world from my perspective. Wishing and hoping for things to be different is pointless- it's pathetic."

No one says anything, so you continue, trying to explain further how you feel. Maybe you hope that you can convince someone here to see their game in a new light. Maybe you just need to say the words have have been stuck in your throat for so long.

"I am who I am. I'm the person I love and the person I hate. Good, bad. It doesn't really matter. I don't care anymore, and I'm so tired of making excuses for being myself."

The room sits in quiet silence, until finally, Daniel Matthews speaks up for the first time in the session.

"But do you know... who that is? Yourself?"

The version of you in your mind's eye- the version from the forest lake with the jagged metal crown- looks at you and grins with teeth.

Your words in response seem to be carried by an incoming chill.

"I think I'm figuring it out."

---

You're not sure what you expected, but a house in the suburbs is not it.

"I'm renovating it, so careful where you step," Mark says, leading you through the front door with a hand on your waist. "Would be a hell of a waste if you died tripping over a brick."

"Hey, you're not allowed to make fun of me for being blind," You reply back, without any real venom. His hand squeezes your waist, playful but dominant.

"Who said anything about you being blind? I was talking about your two left feet." You jab him in the side with your elbow, and he chuckles to himself, pulling you along with him.

It feels altogether domestic- far easier than it has any right to feel. You can imagine a life together, in this home. Taxes and fighting over chores and going on trips. Putting on music as the sun goes down, brewing coffee in the mornings as it rises. You allow yourself the indulgence of it, for just a moment.

The house smells like sawdust and paint, but there's a metallic undercurrent of blood. It's hard to tell if that scent is really there, or if it's just something your mind has picked up on, independent of your objective reality. Mark seems to lead you on forever, around too many corners to count.

There it is again, that sixth sense nagging at you. Something bad happened here. Something bad will happen here. Layers of pain, like the rings in the centre of a tree. You think back to Daniel Matthews, and his nervous, angry energy. So much like his father's, but still so different.

The coffin of glass swallows the target, but he doesn't know what it means. He thinks he is safe inside, but he is wrong. The walls are closing in on him, not his opponent, who is pulled through to the heavens. This isn't how its supposed to happen.

"Is this place a maze? What kind of architect designed this?" You mutter, as Mark stops walking and crouches down beside you. You tap your cane around, noticing a hollow sound ringing from part of the floor.

"Probably John. The layout's a nightmare. But the place is huge. It'll be nice, once its fixed up." Mark responds, and you hear a loud thud. "It's a trap door," he explains.

"Great," You reply, "Always a good sign."

Mark helps you through the trapdoor and down a ladder. Your tentative movements take time, but if he's annoyed by your slow pace, he doesn't complain. Once you're down the ladder, you reach out with your mind's eye, and survey your surroundings.

It is much colder, down here, somehow. Something bothers you about it, like an open sore in the back of the mouth.

"Hey, where are you going?"

You don't realize you're walking away until you hear Mark's voice, calling after you. Something is drawing you in like a beacon. It feels, suddenly, like you're on the cusp of completing something important, something you'd nearly forgotten about.

Drawn through the cold, damp, narrow tunnels, you somehow know instinctively which ways to turn. You don't trip, or run into walls, but keep moving, deeper into the dark. Until finally, you feel yourself stop in front of... something.

Reaching forward, you grasp the bars of a cell.

"Somewhere deep and dark. Low, inside the earth," you echo your words from weeks ago now, and hear a low, guttural groan in response.

Poor Eric Matthews, more animal than man by now.

"Yeah, he's not doing so great," Mark whispers in your ear, having followed after you. You get a brief flash of vision- Mark grabbing Eric by the hair, grown matted and shaggy, and dragging him back as he sobs and claws at the ground. Mark, punching him heavy in the stomach, throwing slop at his feet.

He hated it, at first. Then he grew to relish it.

Pure horror settles in you, uneasy in your stomach.

"Why... keep him?" You ask hollowly, feeling Mark's arm around your waist again, territorial.

"Kramer wants him for the next game," He replies, too quiet for Matthews to hear, "Needs him as an incentive. You know how bad the precinct wants to save him. Hell, it's why you're here in the first place."

"Is someone out there? Help me-" Matthews pleads, his voice broken, "P-please-" Your mouth is dry. You'd been brought in to save this man, and now here he was, begging for help in front of you.

"Huh. So he does remember how to speak," Mark mutters. Part of you wants to reach out, to comfort Matthews, to lie badly to him and tell him it will be alright.

But this is what it is. Open wounds, dirty basements, and pain like the refrain of a prayer. The maw of Hell itself. This is what it means, to be a part of this.

To be partners with Detective Mark Hoffman.

You jump in surprise at a sudden, loud clang- Mark has grabbed your cane, and slammed it against the rusted bars of the cell. You hear whimpering, as Eric Matthews seems to retreat. You take a few steps back, away from the cell, closing your eyes as if it will help.

"It gets easier," Mark tells you, "I know, I know. It's alright to be uncertain. Too feel sick about it. I was at first, too."

You swallow, and nod. He presses his lips to your temple, in a gentle gesture, and continues to soothe you with honeyed words.

"Don't worry. No one's going to find out. You and me, we do this together. We help each other. Right?"

You nod again, and he kisses you, on the lips this time. It's almost forceful, as though by the action alone, he can make you forget your conscience.

"Come on," He says, "Lemme show you the bathroom."

---

Although you've never set foot in this room before in your life, you feel as though you're returning back to a place you grew up in. It has an air of nostalgia about it that's almost uncanny, like a place you've dreamt about a million times, but can't quite map the layout of.

Frankly, it's kind of fucking creepy in here.

The smells of decaying bodies doesn't help. It's unmistakable, almost sweet in its rot, and you clasp a hand over your mouth as you grimace.

"You're renovating, but you couldn't take out the bodies?" You ask, fighting the urge to gag.

"Yeah, let me just carry them to my car," Mark snipes back, and you suppose he has a point. "I don't really come down here. But hey, do your thing." You hear the scrape of a chair, and wonder- is he pulling up a seat?

With a deep breath, you calm your nerves, and try to dial in to your extrasensory perception. The first task you'd been given- find Eric Matthews- has been completed. The second- find the secret apprentice- has not. That's your goal, and the reason you came here. You know that this place has the answers you seek. The walls bleed with them.

You sense Mark, somewhere behind you, curious and sharp. But you need to reach something older. Glass crunches under your boots, and you slowly pace the room, stepping carefully as not to trip over anything.

Then, you catch hold of something. Before you can understand what you're doing, you're crouching in front of one of the bodies, taking his bony, brittle face into your hands. The skin is like tissue paper under your touch.

"Oh, Adam," You murmur to him softly, "How unfair. He didn't follow his own rules for you, did he?"

"Are you... talking to the corpse?" Mark asks, an edge of disgust in his voice.

You ignore him. The corpse doesn't speak, of course, but he answers you in his own way.

"He promised," you hear your voice saying, an echo from a thousand miles away, "He promised he'd come back to save him. A Knight in shining armour. But he never did. He dies down here, missing his mother and wondering if he'll ever see her again. He dies over and over again. He exists as a ghost, haunting the third. The fourth? The secret one, the guilty one, the one who got away."

You hold the skull delicately, with a care not to disturb him. Of course, he's just a body. Just a shell. But before that-

You smell cigarette smoke, hear the click of a camera snapping a shot. Despair, fear, loneliness. Despondency, hope. Bitterness, so much resentment. A cell phone ringing, a hacksaw, tearing into flesh, pain, pain-

"Who was tested in here?" You ask Mark, letting go of the body and standing. The room spins around you, seems to pulse in the darkness. You get the impression of patterns, swirling about- the kind you can read and understand, that you can use to tell the future, if you just focus. You wipe your hands on your pants.

"That guy," Mark replies, presumably pointing to Adam, "We strung up another guy in here at one point. And Matthew's game ended up in here, with the kid and Amanda."

"Who was with Adam?" The answer is so close to you. For some reason, you think of the Jigsaw survivor group, and briefly wonder if the secret apprentice is Daniel Matthews. It partially seems to fit, but your intuition suggests that guess is off base.

"A doctor, I think. We planted his pen light. I think he ended up surviving. What the hell was his name...?" As Mark thinks, the answer comes to you, bold, in flashing neon lights.

"Doctor Gordon," you whisper. You ankle aches in confirmation.

"That was it," Mark replies, and then he pauses. "Him?"

"Him."

"You're sure?"

You see a blonde man, pale and sickly looking, crawling away as blood pours from the stump of his leg. It flows like paint spilling from an overturned tub, until the man presses it to a boiling pipe. Flesh melts and blood coagulates. He survives.

He survives. But he is alone. He has no one else but the ghosts, and the King, omnipotent in his wisdom, sees a subject in the making. A knight to stand guard, to protect the most valuable pieces. To save, when he could not save before.

"I'm sure," You reply, and you are. You hear Mark stand up from his seat.

"What now?" He asks, walking back over to you, "Do we...confront him? Ask Kramer about him?"

It's curious, you think, that he's asking for your opinion now. But you shake your head.

"No," You answer. You've never felt so sure of something in your life. The impressions of the patterns spell out hints to you, show a chessboard with its pieces, ready for play.

"No, we sit on this. We'll need him, later. We don't let anyone else know that we know," You say and you hear Mark make a small hum of contemplation.

"We'll need him?" He asks, a note of skepticism in his voice, and you nod.

"I don't know how yet. But I can feel it. Trust me on this?" You ask. He sighs.

"You haven't been wrong yet," He replies, and you smile at him in thanks. The pieces are coming into focus now, starting to settle into place. John Kramer has been lining up these dominoes for half a decade.

And you can sense what's coming. Your sight will be your survival. You catch the sound of a buzz, coming from where Mark stands.

"It's John. He wants to meet with you again, one-on-one," Mark says then, and you hazard a guess that he's looking at his phone. Does John Kramer know how to text?

"When?" You ask back. Your intuition tells you this will be important- that it might be the last time you see Kramer, face to face. He's a tyrant, his dark shadow looming over you and Mark, and you know in your soul that even when he's dead, that isn't going to change.

"Now. You ready?"

You hope that you are. You think of Eric Matthews, rotting in the dark; and Daniel Matthews, living in the day. You think of Adam, resigned to the depths to die alone, and Ned, who survived to scoff at the notion of gratitude.

It makes you sick, and not out of guilt.

A/N- A bit plot heavy, but since I actually know where this is going now, I'm actually laying down the building blocks for the end! Thank you for waiting, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter so if you liked it, please leave a review <3

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