Can we talk about breeding kink Sid?? like how he would continue to fuck you after he came to make sure it stuck? then he would push it back in with his fingers when i’m started to escape your cunt. all sticky and hot with his cum but you don’t seem to care
we can absolutely talk about breeding kink sid. smut below the cutttt
i imagine you'd be on the couch on a rare day off you share (maybe coming off a hard loss of sid's, getting his existential feelings going. he's thinking about what really matters to him. and kinda thinking about teaching a little one to skate.), and he's been quiet until, out of the blue, he's like "we could have a baby. we could definitely have a baby, right now.".
and you're a little taken aback, because it's always been on the horizon but both your careers have come first since forever, so you're a bit like "i thought you wanted to time it for the offseason?" and he scoffs like you’ve said something ridiculous, says “you’re always talking about how you don’t want our child to be a lion-zodiac-whatever-sign. so let’s just do it.”.
and you’re laughing, correcting him, but he crawls over to you on his knees and guides your hand to his sweats where he’s hot, already half hard, asking “do you wanna do it? ‘cause i’m tired of waiting. just wanna have a baby with you. wanna put a baby in you.”
it only takes a smiley nod of your head, your overexcited thoughts buzzing, for him to pull your hips out from underneath you and yank your shorts off, run his fingertips along your slit, over your panties, wetness already threatening to soak through. he pushes a hand beneath your underwear and presses one finger inside, smiling at the way your mouth drops in a sigh, asking “you ready to feel me, here?” another finger, “you’re gonna be stuffed so full... g’na knock you up.”
and god, does he fill you up. hard grip on your legs to hold you open when he comes, flooding deep and searing hot up against your tender little cervix in time with your own orgasm, your needy cunt seizing around him. the hard lines of his taut body strain against your hands as you grasp his arms, his muscles shaking as he fucks a few more thorough strokes into you, groaning lowly something about “makin’ sure it sticks.” that makes your head spin.
he pulls out slowly, smiling a little, eyes trained on your sensitive cunt, how his load gushes out as your body clenches, missing the feel of his thick cock. without thought, his hands wander, chasing the flow of his cum, scooping it up and positioning himself obscenely between your thighs so he can watch as he fucks your hole with his messy, creamy fingers, thumbing over your hard little clit until you orgasm once more, really making sure it sticks.
I saw Best friends dad with Sid and I like but I’ll raise you one….neighbors daughter with Sid 🥵🥵🥵🥵
It starts off innocent, like he just makes sure you’re okay after a breakup with some absolute asshole that he witnessed from the backyard and he assured you there’s good men out there but he really means him and he knows he’s aging and that you’re here on vacation from college but he can’t help but look at you and just imagine you in his bed. He’s held the lust in for the last year or so and it’s killing him
NEIGHBOUR!SID SO FUCKING TRUE
like you're so bright and bold, he doesn't really know what to make of you but he's into it. i’m thinking like, maybe he shared dinner with your family, one time, when he was new to the neighbourhood, right before you left for college, and if he noticed the skimpy little skirt you wore to dinner, he pushed it from his mind ‘cause of the circumstances. but through covid you’re back around, coming and going and doing an awful lot of laying out in the sun and going on runs and lounging in the backyard, and sid notices. and shit, you notice the same from him, but there’s a distance there until one night, you’re crying on the phone on your patio and sid only hears your sniffles for a moment as he lets his dog out but he’s inviting you over, offering you a beer.
and it’s innocent: he’s given you stupidly sound relationship advice, so you’re kinda friends, but the distance is closing, now. soon you’re dropping by with cold-pressed juices after your runs ‘cause “you’re into that healthy shit, right, sid?” and you’re laughing as he bites his tongue, tries to enjoy them. and you’re offering to watch his dog while he runs errands, as though she needs a dogsitter for just a couple hours, but sid’s agreeing, cause he likes the excuse to talk to you.
gradually, the innocence is falling, though. you know the sun hits his yard just right after four p.m., so you ask sid if you can lay out, read a book in the warmth with the straps of your tank top pulled down. after the fourth day of that, the tank top’s a bikini top and cut-offs, and sid has to stay inside, take a cold shower and forget you’re out there. then, sid’s letting you use his home gym and your little biker shorts are getting shorter by the day: you wanna see how long it’ll be before he calls you out on it, and sid wants to see how long it’ll be before you’re rocking up in a fuckin’ thong, or something.
and the tension reaches its crescendo when you do just that. your family's pool is being cleaned and you've been laying out one afternoon and you’re calling “mind if i come swim?” over to sid on his patio, coming through his side gate before he responds. the bikini you’re wearing is obscene: tiny and all string and it could kill him, he thinks. you have got to be doing this on purpose.
so, when he finds you inside, hunting for a glass in his cabinets, bent over like you’re putting on a fuckin’ show, sid can’t really help but take a risk, can’t help but clear his throat behind you, press up against you when you don’t move. manhandle you over the counter when you fucking laugh. asking “do you wear shit like this for everyone, or is it just me?” and when you feign innocence, glance over your shoulder with wide, puppy-dog eyes just to lie: “i have no idea what you mean, siddy.”, sid scoffs and rips your bikini top down, putting you on show properly for him like the slut you are.
also this entire AU hinges on the fact ur a spoiled brat and he needs to put you in your place. duh.
I’m back. To convince you to write about Jack Hughes. Imagine playing strip ping pong with him.
mm okay this is fun actually cause bratty jack being a sore loser? yeah. yeah. keeping with what we’ve spoken abt w jack: strip ping pong but you’re taking your shirt off immediately. and he’s trying to like avert his eyes like “why the fuck would you do that” and you act oblivious like “you took your top off baby i was matching u :/ i cannot imagine why ur being weird about this” and you both keep playing but now he’s distracted and losing painfully and when it gets to his jeans he’s getting huffy about how he doesn’t wanna play anymore, and this isn’t fair, and he’s booking it upstairs to his bedroom, telling you “god, you’re so fucking annoying.” when you laugh at him.
and you do feel kinda bad, getting him all flustered, so you follow him up and he’s already shut the door but you swear you can hear it, the laboured breathing and maybe the swipe of his hand on slick skin. for all the teasing you do to him, something about this, how explicit it feels, heats your face beyond belief, goes straight to your pussy, and you’re sincere in asking “are you okay, jacky?” with your head leant against the door, listening. kinda hoping he’ll invite you in.
the way he says “fuck off.” is choked, painfully obvious, even moreso when he caps it with “i’m busy.”. and just like that, your sencerity is gone, and if jack could see your pleased little smile, he’d lose it on the spot.
(he does lose it on the spot when you chide “i won the game. shouldn’t you be getting me off, right now?”)
i want matty tkachuk to rail me till i can’t walk the next day 😇😇
this feels SO real cause i KNOW that man is flipping you every which way, not a spare thought for what it's doing to your muscles (and it feels good, anyway. he's so overexcited, can only think about getting as deep as possible, hitting as hard as possible, so missionary would quickly turn to your knees pressed into your chest, then you rolled onto your side, your right leg hooked over matty's right shoulder: it'd be awkward if he weren't fuckin' battering your gspot, pinning your hips with his hands and pressing you so hard into the mattress you feel the springs against your spine every time his cock butts against your cervix.)
also he's sweet and doting in the morning when you're throbbing and walking funny, but he's equally teasing. "this is your fault." you'd say, stood on shaky legs, taking the paracetamol he'd bought in for the dull ache in your muscles.
but matthew would only heave a laugh at that, toss his head back and pitch up his voice girlishly to mock "harder, matty, fuck me harder," leaving you beet red and whining "i don't sound like that!". but matthew's got an answer for everything, bickering like it's his day job: "trust me, baby, i know what you sound like. hear that shit all the time."
All I can think abt is cockwarming monster cock cale makar..🫠🫠🫠lil tummy bulge and a blushy cale (where do I sign lmao)
no i can barely form a coherent thought on this, just like. the hitched breathing and whimpers when he sinks all the way in, “shhh, good girl, you’ve got it, you’re okay, god you feel good,”, coddling you into his chest and stilling your hips with one hand so you don’t move on him. both your whiny gasps when he rocks in and out, just a little, enough to spread your slick, then halts his movement again. the contrast of the initial stretch and it’s overwhelming pleasure-pain, and the gentleness of his hand gripping your thigh where it sits over his hip. “just a little longer, gna be so soft and wet when i fuck you. doin’ so good for me,” while stroking your hair after the quiet talks meant to distract you from the pleasure finally turn into you begging him to fuck you properly. his blushy shyness shifting into a quiet pride as he realises how worked up you’re getting, mouthing barely-there hickeys at his flushed chest as he pushes a hand down between your tight bodies, thumbs over the little swell right above your pubic bone and groans at how you take him, and he’s breathless, even when he resorts to teasing you again: “y’feel me here? bet we could see it from the outside if i fucked you right now. d’you wanna find out?“
matt martin having a younger gf... calling him daddy... other isles guys chirping him/hitting on her for fun... posessive marty...
- 💌 anon
(also i adored ur grubi blurb!! you are amazing,thank you!!)
i'm obsessed with this. a liiiittle mean dom marty under the cut <3
the daddy thing definitely starts as a joke, a nickname because neither of you are naïve to the age gap, (you’re still a grown adult and it’s a maturely discussed dynamic), but you know how it looks, especially when he acts like that, a little like a sugar daddy. maybe like, one time you’re getting ready to go out, you make a dumb comment, meaningless: “you look like my daddy.” when he’s all suit and tie and you’re in something silken and flashy, and he’s behind you in the mirror, a hand teasing, crawling up your throat with his mouth to your temple like “i am your daddy.” and you laugh, then, need to get out to the car and make some important event. but daddy falls from your mouth when he’s got a hand pushed up under the slit in the leg of your dress in the elevator after the event, and he definitely doesn’t stop the name. maybe he shoves two fingers knuckles-deep in you at it in this stupid hotel elevator, idk!
and daddy definitely weasels its way out of the bedroom, too. makes his friends choke on their meals when you chime “daddy, pass the dressing?” at dinner, because it’s still a bit of a joke to you, in this context, and it’s kinda just a nickname, now, but the younger guys, especially? definitely taking that thought home with them.
speaking of his boys: feel like marty lets them talk. likes to watch them run their mouths and drool over you, buy you drinks and make snide comments: “when marty gets too old to keep up with you, y’know where to find me.” because marty’s an asshole, showy and confident above all else, and, as long as you’re comfortable, he likes having what others want. more than anything, he likes having an excuse to turn around and sip on that drink one of his boys bought you, himself, in front of whoever’s tab it was on. and he really likes having an excuse to feel you up, a little, catch the younger men gawking. let his hands skate just a little too high up your leg in plain sight, grab at your ass, maybe. take your jaw in his strong hands and tongue kiss you like you don’t know there are mouths gaping, people gasping over it, how obviously lewd it is.
so that harsh possessiveness only really comes out once matt gets you alone, three fingers deep in you and you’re even not allowed to properly moan, much less come until you’ve coherently told him, no stutters or stammers: you’re his sweetheart. barzy could never make you feel like this, you’d never beg like a slut for beau. you’re daddy’s girl, daddy’s little fucktoy. and, if you can’t choke out the words just how he wants you too? well, marty can be a little mean. maybe he’ll call up barzy or beau. maybe anders, if he’s feeling real cruel. put them on facetime, point the camera at you, your wrecked face, mascara everywhere, fucked out and you haven’t even started yet. he’ll make you tell it to their faces.
i wanna hate fuck matty tkachuk so bad. Like i literally can't stand that man but i would let him do anything to me lol i think its his cocky attitude that does it for me...
matty x brother's best friend who he "hates"? please ????
he's got this very specific energy where it's like. he'd choke you and you'd choke him back. manhandle you and get off on you trying to push him around, too (maybe let you, sometimes: play wrestle with you and let you think you're winning for a sec before he's got you pinned down telling you to "shut up and take it,".
and you could've have his head between your thighs for hours. you could be mid-orgasm on his fuckin fingers for the fourth time that night: it doesn't matter how good he makes you feel. your moaned words always sound something like "fuck you," or "god, shut up,".)
(maybe he's got this internal little goal to make you say his name, though. just one time. he thinks it'd be the greatest thing ever, maybe.)
the spittin chiclets sandbagger video with sid and nate,,,sid as always double-cheeked up on a thursday afternoon making me think about him taking me in the country club bathroom after a round of golf (bonus if he's frustrated bcos i beat him at golf)
the country club bathroom never misses.
actually u know what i want y/n to ruin sid's golf day. golf is so fucking boring bro imagine him w a little brat who won't shut up about how hot it is in the sun. how bored she is. how she wants to drive the cart but keeps taking them in the wrong direction accidentally’cause this whole course looks the same. a girl who takes his wallet and overtips the cart girls but forgets their beers somehow (she was flirting. that's how she forgot. she doesn't like golf but she likes wearing tiny skirts and making people stare.). i want her to bother sid. and then i want him to pin her down and rail some etiquette into her in the bathroom at lunch.
(sid keeps bringing her on golf days, though. he can handle her bitching, learns to tune out to it. but, his buddies? they play way worse when she's flouncing around in those little skirts to distract them. eventually sid and his girl are working together, kinda. they're both winning: sid's outplaying his friends, and yn's getting victory-dicked down against a marble countertop, thinly veiled as punishment for her day's bratty antics, but they both know they'll be right back on the course together the next chance they get.)
