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sunshine-theseus · 3 months

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Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #wsl #womens soccer #arsenal fcw #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross

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sandiegorestaurants123 · 1 year

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#Indian Restaurants near me #Indian Food in New Jersey #Indian Food near me #order food online #order indian food #indian dishes

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restauratsfood · 1 year

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#Indian Restaurants near me #Indian Food in New Jersey #Indian Food near me #order food online

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transparentarcadepoetry · 1 year

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#Indian Restaurants near me #Indian Food in New Jersey #Indian Food near me #order food online #food delivery

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otoyasss · 1 year

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Various NSFW headcanons

Yukimiya, Otoya, Aiku, Kurona

pt1 || pt2

Warnings: gn!reader, sub/dom elements, worship, possessive! Yukimiya if you squint, praise, daddy kink mentions for Aiku, cum, oral sex, blood and biting for Kurona, cheating mentions.

MDNI, ALL OF MY POSTS ARE 18+

Yukimiya

He's such a switch

Even if he's in the middle of domming, once you mention wanting to take control he'll immediately let you. He just wants you both to feel good, so he doesn't care how it happens.

Besides, he finds you so hot when you Dom. He wants to memorize the way you look when you tease him.

And the way you look when you're submissive, too. He just loves every side of you.

He's a little too into being worshipped. When he's in an extremely dominant mood he'll expect you to do everything he asks without question and order you to praise him while he fucks you

Maybe a bit of a god complex when it comes to sex but he doesn't talk about it

His dick is so pretty. He has a little freckle near the tip that makes him whine whenever you kiss it

Sometimes all he wants to do is watch you grind against him desperately.

Definitely into praisong you, too. He doesn't even hesitate. If you do something he enjoys, he'll compliment you. Especially when you're close to cumming.

He almost never uses your name. He just calls you his Angel, he thinks it's cute.

His favorite position is missionary or cowgirl. Just really anything he can see your face during, he loves all of your reactions and being able to kiss you.

His favorite thing is fucking you while you wear his jersey, it makes him so proud of himself.

He also has a bad habit of fucking you before every game and making you keep his cum in you for "good luck", he says knowing he's still in you makes him play better.

You know those bracelets that are welded into you so you can't take them off? he got you one with his jersey number on it.

That way you're always reminded of how much you mean to him!

And that you belong to him, but that's besides the point. He loves you so much!

Otoya

Honestly he saw you as a hookup at first but he decided you were too cute to let go of just yet

He still doesn't plan to keep you around for that long, but as long as you keep things interesting he'll stay

Greedy little fuckboy.

You know how he has a scent fetish?? Yeah he's stealing your perfume and spraying it onto his pillow every time he jerks off so he feels like you're there with him.

You just smell so good and he wants you around all the time, even if he's has a hard time admitting it

He's needy. He needs your attention at all times and he'll get genuinely upset if you pay more attention to other guys

Especially his friends. If you pay more attention to Karasu or Yukki than him?? You're in for it later.

He's not above hate fucking you. His main goal is to make sure you can't walk for days just to make sure you remember who you along to.

He is NOT immune to pegging propaganda. The second he heard about it online he was kind of interested in it and asked you about it a few days later

He ended up loving it, how his cheeks were all puffy and swollen from crying because of how overstimated he was and how it felt to have your strap-on in him so deep

He still usually prefers to be the one in control, though.

Especially when it means he can toy with your body however he likes.

His favorite position is 69. He'll hold onto your hips as if you'll disappear once he lets go and desperately work to make you cum against his tongue. He doesn't even care if all you do is jerk him off, he finds it so cute how your movements stutter every few seconds just because of how good he makes you feel.

Aiku

He's so icky about sex sometimes

He has a massive daddy kink but won't bring it up until he's sure you won't judge him too bad

Also definitely into power play, like REALLY into it

He usually prefers to top but he'll be more than happy to lay back and let you take the lead if you really want to

Because he thinks you look so cute on top of him

HUNG. Have you SEEN him?? It's big. He KNOWS it's big.

He'll probably cheat if things get boring

Or at the very LEAST beg you for a threesome.

. . . Might not be too upset if you ask for the third person to be a guy.

If really depends on who it is though, he'd rather be close to them so he knows what to expect

BIG HANDS. he loves to use them on you to make you whine for him.

He doesn't exactly moan, but instead he lets out deep groans into your ear to make you know how good you're making him feel

His favorite position is the mating press. He finds it's so intimate and it just feels so good to him, he can't help but fill you up every single time he does it

DEFINITELY into dirty talk. He talks about making you drunk off of his cock and how cute you look when you go dumb from cumming so much

He's not exactly into edging. Overstim is more his thing, because he'd rather make you feel good instead of making you wait for it.

Kurona

Call him Sharky. Do it.

He makes the cutest whines ever, especially when he's desperately fucking you from behind and mumbling about how bad he wants you into your ear

You're always in so much pain after sex because he bites all of his favorite parts of you over and over again

And he happens to love all of you so much, so everywhere is covered in teeth marks

He gives you an apologetic smile but tells you that it will happen again.

He enjoys your neck and shoulders the most

Because you sound so cute when he bites down on them!

Also just because they're the easiest to reach when he's inside of you

He's not opposed to pegging but it'll take some time before he's really into it

Definitely has a really pretty dick. It blushes when he's flustered

He'll never admit it but he genuinely enjoys licking the blood away from the bite marks he leaves on you. It feels intimate to him, and it reminds him of how much you trust him

He can be EXTREMELY submissive if you play your cards right

His favorite position is doggy, he loves gripping onto your hips and fucking into you as fast as he wants.

He's honestly really into giving head but because his teeth are so sharp it can be pretty painful for you, so he tends to avoid it unless you're really willing to let him do it. He promises he'll try not to bite you too hard

EXTREME oral fixation

He wants his mouth on you constantly. It soothes him.

He's even fascinated by the way your mouth looks around his fingers when you get him ready

___________________________________

IM SO SORRY I've been so busy but I've been sufferings I much brainrot so I hope I can post more soon (especially about Otoya)

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock smut #otoya eita #otoya eita x reader #bllk otoya #blue lock yukimiya #yukimiya smut #yukimiya x reader #yukimiya kenyu #oliver aiku #bllk aiku #aiku x reader #blue lock kurona #kurona x reader #kurona #kurona ranze

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jocelynscrazyideas · 5 months

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Coffee Breath | Quinn Hughes x Fem Reader

Summary: Quinn and Y/N go to Starbucks and Target after Team practice, and they prep for the Hughes Brawl that is being played in 4 hours.

Warnings: language, and only one kiss (it’s a peck)

A:N- I hate this sm but I needed to post smth 🫶

All i know is that you talk to much

You’ve got those big blue eyes

Drive me crazy, make me fantasize

‘Bout you baby

After team practice before the next game, Quinn and I leave the rink and we pick up some coffee. Quinn is wearing a letter this year on his jersey so, he has to take his body seriously now. All he does is workout. I’ve been dragging him to get coffee with me, just like it was in the past.

“You wnat your Gingerbread Oatmilk Chai?” Quinn says as he looks into my eyes. All I see is his light blue eyes, almost as if they were grey.

I look to his right eye, and to his left, then down to his lips, I love him. He sees my trick, and he grabs my thigh, as he moves his fingers into my warm special place.

He’s such a cunt.

“Yeah, the chai is perfect. And could I get a Gouda sandwich- the one I like.” I say as we pull into the Starbucks drive through. He turns his head as he pulls his blue hood off his head.

Said you can’t trust me

I said it’s fine.

I’m wearing the perfect outfit. Black leggings, pink sports bra, and of course Quinn’s hoodie. My shoes, are also his, they’re wayy too big, but they’re just crocs. Quinn, in the drivers seat wearing a blue hoodie, black sweatpants, and his grey slides. We’re matching. I love him.

“Mobile order for Maya Ray.” Quinn says as he looks at me with a smirk. Maya- which isn’t my name, and Ray- is also not my name nor his name. We use fake names, out of our safety, and for fun. He pulls up to the second window and he grabs the Iced Chai and swings his arm to me, and he also grabs the sandwich I asked him to get me.

“Don’t get crumbs in my car. I’ll kill you.” Quinn snaps out at me.

What an actual cunt.

“Cuntasaurus.” I say underneath my breath. I grab the drink and the sandwich and place the chai into my lap. I unwrapped my sandwich and started to bite in.

“Do you have change?” Quinn asks. Weird. He payed online, he doesn’t need more money- unless he’s going to leave a tip. Then I thought that he could already leave a tip online.

“Why.” I say in response, only after I remembered to answer his question. I was lost into thought that I literally forgot to respond.

“So I can leave a tip, I forgot to tip online.” sure. I think to myself, I know he’s lying, he’s a freaking millionaire, he should have at least $10 freaking dollars on him.

“Yep.” I say and grab my phone case. I pull the $20 out and hand it to the lady, only because I know if I gifted it to Quinn, that money wouldn’t make it to the tip jar.

“I could have done that.” Quinn says snapping at me… again.

“Well obviously not.” I say as I open the middle console that splits our seats apart. I pull out $100 dollars and shove it in his face.

a side eye is all I get in response from him.

“Shocker. You know where my money is.” Quinn says after we turn into the parking lot of a target about 10 minutes later.

he’s literally the sassiest man I’ve ever fucking met. He’s… so, teenage boy. Literal brain rot. We need to pick up some groceries so I made a list of things that I needed. Of course I made a list of things that again only I need.

“So, why did you need to stop at Target?” Quinn says as he finds the farthest fucking parking spot there is. God, he better carry me back out here. I look into his blue eyes again, he literally drives me crazy, I can smell his cologne, and that makes me insane.

He smells like flowers, but in a masculine way. It’s hard to describe, he’s just so beautiful. It’s just a normal day for us, but it’s THE Hughes brawl. New Jersey Devils vs Canucks in Vancouver.

I’m excited, but no matter what I’m going to be proud, I’ve known Luke for the longest of times, and even before I met Luke and Wuinn I was friends with Jack.

“You coming?” Quinn says as he opens my door and grabs my left ass cheek. Let’s just say his love language is physical touch, he’s really touchy, clingy and childish, but so am I.

“Yep. Also Quinner-” I say before he freaking cuts me off.

“I know. you always make your own list. Never something that I would need, it’s always oh, what do I need? And oh, I ran out on shampoo, better get ME some.” Quinn says as he mocks me. He’s such an ass. But an ass taht I love.

Again as he swipes his right arm under my butt, he grabs my back with his left arm, and he tips over to the left as he swoops me into his arms and over his shoulder. Quinn pulls my leggings over my red lacy thong that I’m wearing under.

“I hate when you do that.” Quinn states as he closes my door and locks the car. He grabs my hand and we walk to the the doors of the store.

“Do what?” I say in actual confusion.

“You tease me, then you follow up with that with oh, I’m too tired and sorry I’m not in the mood.”

Quinn seems really upset, which is why I love to do it. I pull my hoodie down over my butt and I get an cloud of Quinn. I love him. I really do.

I’m hit with this wave of horny desperation.

“Hey, give me a kiss. Please!!” I say as I stop him and we stand in the middle of the parking lot. I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. I look deep into his eyes in pleading guilt.

“I know what you’re doing.” He says, he’s convinced that I’ll do the thing.

“Omg, just kiss me.” I say. But he won’t. So I grab his hand, and pull him back to the car, and I grab his keys form his pocket and unlock the doors.

“Please. Quinn I’m ready. Right now.” And I pull him into the backseat.

I pull at his silver chain that I bought him, its charm is a heart, and the back of the heart is a photo of us. When we were like 16.

“Please. Don’t. Not right now.” Quinn says as he pushes up agisnt me. I feel him getting hard. There’s truly a tent being built in his sweatpants.

“We have like 4 hours until the next game. We have time.” I say as I look into his neck ready to make a move. I can feel his pulse penetrating from his artery.

“No.” Quinn’s consistent with his answer. And I respect it. So I climb into the passenger seat and I forget about the target trip in general. And he climbs back into the drivers seat as well. And he pulls my cheek towards him. And he leans in for a kiss.

Taste like coffee.

#jocelynscrazyideas #umich hockey #hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #umich #vancouver canucks #🍇🍇🍇

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