King Adrian Kempe

it's one of quinn's rare days off, and he's playing video games.

that's not... bad exactly. he's allowed to play video games, of course. you just wish that he would pay a little bit of attention to you.

he's not doing it on purpose, and you know that. the past few games have just been rough for him, he's probably just trying to quiet his mind for a few hours. but it's currently 3 in the afternoon, and he's been playing since 10 in the morning.

you think it's time he takes a break.

really, you've been trying to get him to take a break all day. wearing your tiniest shorts, walking around with no bra, sighing exaggeratedly at any chance you get.

and yet, nothing.

every once in a while he'll call out a, "how you doing, baby?" over his shoulder, but it's not the same.

you and quinn don't get a lot of... alone time together, and you've been aching for it. watching him play always gets you hot and bothered, and he's away a lot, so you try and take advantage of whatever time the two of you get.

but you also understand that sometimes quinn needs time by himself, time to do his own things that he wants to do.

so you let him. but now you want attention.

he's sitting on the couch, looking as relaxed as you've seen him recently. his eyes are glued to the screen, his thumbs flitting across the controller.

you stand next to the tv, and just watch him for a few seconds, loving how soft and happy he looks. comfortable, cozy. his brows furrow as a sound that indicates his character has been hit comes from the tv, and you feel your panties dampen at the sight.

"hi honey," quinn says, glancing at you before looking at the screen again. "what's up?"

you take a deep breath, nibbling nervously on your bottom lip.

then you reach your hands down, grasp the hem of your shirt, and pull it over your head.

you always joke with quinn that he has spidey senses when it comes to your boobs. as soon as you take your bra off after a long day, he appears next to you, hands reaching for your chest. you wake up most mornings with one of his hands cupped around your tit, occasionally squeezing, his own personal fidget.

right now is no different.

the second your shirt clears your chest, quinn's eyes abandon the video game without a second thought and snap to your tits, mouth dropping open silently.

his hands go limp on the controller, and the sounds of his character getting hurt come from the screen, but his eyes don't leave you.

"i missed you, quinn..." you say, a sly smile beginning to spread across your face. you're moving towards him, slowly, feeling pride swell in your chest at the hungry way he's looking at you.

a shaky breath leaves him. the second you're close enough, he doesn't hesitate to throw the controller to the side, his hands darting out to grasp your hips, tugging you into his lap.

you let out a little yelp as your feet are pulled out from under you, but you're in quinn's lap in before you blink.

you look down and smile at him, but he's not looking at your face. his eyes are glued to your tits, his chest heaving.

"thank you," he murmurs, and you giggle.

quinn is transfixed by the sight of your tits, and you can feel him hardening beneath you as he leans forward, burying his face in your chest. you giggle a little bit at the sigh that exits his mouth as you press your tits against his face. your cunt flutters, and you grind down on him, the ache worsening at the long, heavy groan that comes from quinn in response.

"you're welcome," you whisper, your hands coming up to begin carding through his thick, dark locks.

quinn extracts himself from your chest, moving to wrap his lips around your nipple. you sigh, and begin shifting your hips as he starts to suck, opening his mouth wider to try and get as much of your tit inside his mouth as possible. his eyes are closed, whimpering softly. he's gorgeous like this.

you're fully dry humping now, arching your back to push yourself further into him, an appreciative hum coming from quinn in response.

his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers gripping your hip, taking control and dragging you along his hard-on, moaning gratefully into the fat of your tit.

quinn lets up on your nipple, leaving one final lick before moving onto the other one, moving your hips harder and faster the longer you're on his lap.

it doesn't take long for his whimpers to start blurring together, for his lips to get more desperate against your nipple. you realize he's teetering on the edge, pressing you down harder against him, eager to get there, so you decide to do him a favor and push him over the edge.

one of your hands begins caressing his cheek lovingly. you press a kiss to the crown of his head as your other hand tangles in his hair, and then you tug. hard.

he stiffens, instantly. his lips lose their coordination, but he keeps his forehead pressed to your chest as his hips stutter below you.

you smile as you feel a wet spot begin to form below you, soaking through his boxers and sweatpants, wetting your shorts as well. you keep grinding, working him through it. you stop once his whimpers turn into little yelps. quinn appreciates overstimulation at times, but you know that's not what he's looking for right now.

the two of you are still for a few minutes, your breath evening out slowly. you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close, soaking in his warmth.

you're about to stand up, to go get him a glass of water or some food or something, but his big hands hold you on his lap.

"what are-" you start, but you're cut off by quinn stuffing his hand down the front of your shorts.

your gasp of surprise turns into a moan as his deft fingers find your clit with ease, immediately rubbing hard. your hips start moving on their own, chasing the stimulation, practically humping his hand.

you're holding onto his shoulders for dear life, your whimpers and moans increasing in volume when he slips one of his long fingers inside of you.

with quinn being gone so often, you always forget how good he is at this. how much of a natural he is, and how he's been this way since the beginning of your relationship.

his fingers find the spot in seconds, the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head and the shame to leave your body.

quinn leans forward, burying his face in your neck. he finds the spot right under your jaw that always gets you going and starts focusing his attention there, licking and sucking. you have no doubt that your neck is going to be littered with marks.

and then he stuffs another finger inside of you, stretching you so perfectly and continuing to hammer your g-spot.

"c'mon baby," he murmurs into your ear, voice pleading. "let it go, give it to me,"

you hit your peak with a loud moan, your fingers still tangled in quinn's locks, anchoring yourself. the whimpers flow from your mouth like a waterfall as he rides out your high, easing you out of it while staring up at you with such love in his eyes it nearly makes your heart explode.

he slides his hand from your shorts gently, his fingers sliding through your wet cunt as he moves, a shiver running through your entire body as he does it.

you slump against him, your entire body feeling like it's full of jelly, a blissed out smile on your face.

"fuck, you're so good at that," you breathe. "that was amazing,"

quinn presses a long kiss to the place where your neck meets your shoulder, and you feel him smiling into your skin. "it was," he leans back and looks at you for a bit. "you're amazing,"

you kiss him, letting your tongue slip inside his mouth. you kiss him hard, heavy, intense. despite the fact that he just came, minutes ago, you feel him begin to harden again. you grind down once more, just to see his face screw up, and smirk.

"i know,"

"i have a surprise for you,"

quinn had been laying down in your shared bed, scrolling through his phone. the two of you have been wildly busy recently, and so you both agreed not to go too crazy or all-out for valentine's day this year. you know that you love each other, neither of you have ever doubted that, so neither of you really felt the need for a big, important date or anything like that.

and honestly? your favorite thing to do together is relax at home with each other, in each other's arms, so that's what you'd been doing all day.

about an hour ago, though, you got up from the bed. quinn whined and complained, but you insisted. said you had something to do.

no matter how hard he pried, you refused to tell him what you were going to do. eventually, he relented, deciding he would just sit in the room, listen to bob's burgers play on the tv, and scroll through his phone.

but now you're back in the bedroom, sitting on his lap, and looking at him with such a mischievous smile he can't help but start internally guessing at what your "surprise" could possibly be.

"okay..." he says, smiling at your smile. "what is it?"

you roll your eyes and scoff. "i'm not going to tell you that quinn, obviously. it wouldn't be a surprise if i just told you,"

"oh, obviously," he scoffs at himself. you make no move to get up, though, just continuing to sit on him, smiling wide. "um... are we gonna go get it? or see it? or..?"

you gasp, and then jump off of him. "oh yeah! i forgot."

he laughs at how cute you are, then stands up slowly. you grab his hand and lead him out of the bedroom into the living area. you bring him into the kitchen, which now smells like cookies, and is covered in flour and powdered sugar.

"okay, so i figured that since we're not doing anything fancy for valentine's day, we should at least do something festive,"

quinn nods along. "of course,"

you smirk and reach for a plate behind you. "i thought, what's more valentine's day than conversation hearts? but then i remembered that conversation hearts are gross, so i made these..."

and then you brandish the plate at him.

quinn's mouth drops open in shock immediately.

you've made six heart-shaped cookies. each one is frosted with a different pastel color, and they look exactly like conversation hearts. the only difference is the conversation starters on them.

"oh... my..." quinn starts, his breath catching in his throat as he reads them all in turn.

fuck me

eat me out

head?

bend me over

cum in me!

suck my tits

each letter is messily written, the white frosting bleeding into the pastel color behind it, but each word clearly legible. it seems as though you just wrote whatever dirty phrase popped into your head, which makes it both way hotter and way cuter at the same time.

"what do you think?" you ask, biting your bottom lip nervously. "i got the recipe for the dough and the frosting online, and i know they're kind of weird but-"

he cuts you off by reaching for a cookie. his eyes are dark as he picks up the one that says bend me over and taking a slow bite into it. he lets out a little moan.

"it's good," he says, smiling at you. "like, really good,"

"really?" you ask, your entire being lighting up at the compliment.

he nods. "yeah, baby. delicious,"

you put the plate of cookies down on the counter behind you as quinn finishes his cookie. when you turn back to him, he's looking at you with heat in his gaze, licking the crumbs from his fingers.

you take a step forward, sliding your hands around his ribs, causing him to shiver.

"so." you lean up to press a kiss to his lips, tasting the sugary sweetness from the cookie. "did the cookies give you any ideas?"

He’s so big—what a way to start, but it’s true. Everything about him. His palms, his fingers, his thighs, his muscles. The sheer scale of him makes it impossible not to feel him everywhere, even after he’s gone. Especially when he handles you—like you’re his favorite thing.

Anthony can lift you with ease, placing you exactly where he wants you like it’s second nature. And he lives for it. Loves it. The casual dominance of it all. Ripping you out of your seat just to haul you into his lap, tossing you on the bed like you weigh nothing, slinging you over his shoulder with a laugh, or wrapping your legs over his arms so he can fuck up into your soaked, trembling pussy. And just like that, you’re eye to eye—him watching, you unraveling.

He adores that look on your face when you’re caught in the blur of pleasure and pain, your expression twisting with every thrust because you’ve never felt this full.

Stolie always takes his time with you, easing you open with his mouth and those long, deft fingers until your body is soft, wet, and greedy for him. He won’t hurt you—he refuses to. He works you into it, kissing you through the stretch, letting you whimper into his neck as he soothes and devours you at once.

He revels in the size difference. The way his hand covers your stomach, fingers spread wide and possessive. He swears his palms were made for your hips, your ass—meant to mold to you.

Getting on your knees to suck him off is laughable—you’ve tried. But he’s just too big. So, usually, he settles you at the edge of his massive bed, your eyes glassy and adoring as you take him in your mouth, as far as you can manage, lips stretched wide and jaw aching. Or he’ll lean back, lounging like a king with you kneeling over him, bobbing up and down on that thick cock while his arms, long and strong, reach around your body to finger you at the same time—just to hear those helpless moans vibrating around him.

And he’s so proud of you. He makes sure you know it, whispering praise between gritted teeth while his big body cages yours, every rough thrust paired with the sweetest words. “You’re takin’ me so good, baby. My perfect girl. Look at you.”

His hand always finds your tummy before he even thrusts in—sprawled low, like he can already feel it. Like he’s desperate to. His fingers press down ever so slightly, breath caught, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his blue eyes flutter half-shut. He swears the sight of your belly swelling with each push is enough to undo him.

Sometimes he grabs your wrist, guides your hand there too, forces you to feel what he’s doing to you. Tilts his head to catch the moans spilling from your lips and kisses them away, murmuring, “Look at you, baby. Takin’ all of me. That’s it. You were made for this.”

And when he’s close he lays the breeding kink on thick, voice low and desperate as he fucks you into the mattress. The air’s heavy with the slap of skin, your wetness, the sound of his cock driving into you over and over.

“Gonna fill you up, make you a mommy,” he growls, mouth hot against your ear. “Stuff you so full of my cum you’ll be leakin’ for days. You want that, don’t you, princess? Bet your pussy’s just beggin’ me to stay inside. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t pull out all night. Make sure it sticks.”

He watches your face for every twitch, every flutter of need. “You feel how we fit? You don’t wanna get rid of me. You need me. You need this. You want my cum. You gonna cum too, pretty girl?”

You’re so cock-drunk by then, all you can do is nod, lips parted around his thick fingers as he presses them between you to rub your clit. Your whole body seizes under him, pleasure tearing through you as your pussy flutters and clamps down on him, milking him for everything. He groans into your mouth, hips jerking as he fills you in long, hot pulses, whispering filth against your lips. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓯𝓼 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You were pacing in front of the door, heart racing like you had just played three periods instead of him. The apartment smelled like the strawberries you’d dropped into the flutes, like the faint hint of your perfume warmed by nervous excitement. You smoothed your silk robe, the cool slide of it over bare skin doing absolutely nothing to calm your anticipation.

Anthony had a shutout. Focused, unbeatable, fierce, and you’d rushed home when the final second ticked down, buzzing with pride and need. He deserved to be celebrated, and you were gonna do just that.

The keys jingled outside the door, and your breath caught. You grabbed the bottle of champagne, thumb pressed against the loosened cork.

He stepped in, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his smile soft and proud—until he saw you. You grinned, eyes gleaming. “SHUTOUT, BABY!” you cheered, cracking the cork with a loud pop.

Champagne erupted, a fizzy stream catching the light as it splashed and glittered to the floor. You laughed, careless and radiant, holding the bottle aloft like a trophy, already drenched in celebration. His eyes dropped slowly, lingering on the robe slipping off your shoulder, to the lace peeking through the part in the silk. That boyish grin of his twisted turned darker, hungrier even, because how the hell was he supposed to think about anything but you?

“Congratulations, baby.”

He chuckled low in his chest, shaking his head. You hadn’t forgotten how horny he was this morning, how he’d kissed you a little too long by the door before he left, fingers twitching like they didn’t want to let go. But he’d needed to lock in. And now? Now he got to celebrate.

His eyes roamed slowly, drinking you in like every inch of you was a prize he’d earned. Anthony’s stride was lazy, full of that natural swagger. Your eyes drifted higher the closer he got, the man towering over you, even as you stood in heels. Your heart hammered in your chest, your stomach fluttering, pussy throbbing because, as usual, because you were his to handle, and you couldn’t wait.

“Hey, honey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. His hand brushed your waist, fingers curling around the satin tie. He played with it for a second, teasingly twirling his fingers through it, letting his thumb drag under the knot. “You really know how to work me, don’t you? You know the shit I like—fuck, you look good.”

And in one soft tug from him, the robe opened, slipping down your body, pooling around your heels on the floor.

He stepped forward, arms wrapping around you in one smooth motion, lifting you like it was nothing, those big hands gripping your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Your body molded to his, soft against the hard lines of muscles. Stolie leaned in, and you didn’t wait, claiming his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss as he started walking straight to the bedroom.

You giggle teasingly against his lips, your nose brushing his as he carries you down the hall. “That was fast—”

“You knew exactly what you were doin’,” he hums, his voice sweet and thick like honey. You grin, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I got a shutout,” he continues, nudging the bedroom door open with his foot. “You got all pretty for me…” He lowers his voice, sending chills down your spine. “Now we’re gonna celebrate all night long.”

“Is that so?” you ask, capturing his bottom lip between yours, sucking off nice and slow.

“Mhmm,” he groans, the sound vibrating against your mouth. “You’re gonna ride me.” You giggle again, making him grin at the sound, his grip on you tightening just a little. “Such a slut for me, baby. I knew you’d love that.”

Anthony kicks the door shut with a loud slam, the sound echoing through the room as he strides straight to the bed with you still clinging to him.

He tosses you down and you bounce slightly on the mattress, hair splayed, laughter bubbling from your lips as you look up at him.

He yanks off his T-shirt, muscles flexing, eyes locked on you. He reaches for the bottle of champagne and takes a sip, drinking in every inch of skin.

His boxers are the only thing left, his long, thick cock pressing against the fabric, stressed from the stretch. He moves to the mattress, landing on you, crushing you gently beneath him as you burst into another giggle, breath trapped under only a fraction of his weight.

You gasped as he rolled you onto his lap, his big hands settling on your hips as you straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush mattress on either side.

You reached behind your back, fingers finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it, lowering the straps teasingly, before letting the lace fall away completely.

Your breasts bounce free, nipples hard, body bare, nothing but a pair of crotchless panties and garter belt cinched around your waist, hugging the fullness of your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice gravelly and thick as his eyes fell low. “These new? They are, aren’t they—Holy shit, baby,” he mumbles as his hands find the waistband of his boxers, his eyes devouring you like you were already stuffed full of his cock, riding him like he’s been dreaming about since he stepped off the ice. Having you like he’s been craving all day.

He sat up and pulled you into a deep, claiming kiss as his big hands came up to cup your tits, fingers spreading wide.

“You looked good out there,” you praised, soft and sultry, scratching your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He let out a dark, smug laugh.

“Yeah? You look good right here, honey. So fuckin’ good.”

He leaned back slightly, grabbed the chilled champagne off the nightstand, and took a long, satisfied sip before handing it to you. You tipped it back a little too fast, and some of the bubbly liquid spilled over, slipping from your lips and trickling down your neck, over your tits.

“So fuckin’ messy,” he murmured, dipping his head and dragging his tongue along your skin, licking up the trail of champagne on the swell of your breast. Anthony grabbed the bottle out of your hands, dribbling just a little more onto one nipple, watching the way it beaded cold before he wrapped his lips around you, moaning as he sucked, his hot tongue circling slowly.

He kissed and licked his way back up, following the curve of your neck until his mouth met yours again.

Your hand slid between your bodies, wrapping around his thick, throbbing cock. He moaned against your lips as you squeezed, his dick hot and heavy in your grip, pulsing with every beat of his heart.

He let out a shuddering breath, hips twitching as you stroked him slowly, letting your thumb brush over the slick bead of pre-cum.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, his voice strained as his eyes fluttered shut for just a second. You pressed your hand to his broad chest, pushing him to the mattress. His back hit with a soft thud, eyes flickering to yours as he smiled as you pinned him beneath your palm. Anthony could easily overpower you in any situation, but this is exactly what he wanted.

His hand tightened on your hip as he held his cock steady, thick and twitching, guiding you closer. You swirl your hips, teasing the fat tip of his cock with your soaked pussy.

“C’mon, baby. Let me have it, huh? Did so good for you—”

“For me?” You whisper as you lower yourself slightly, already feeling the stretch.

“Everything’s for you,” he smiles, his hodded eyes twinkling as he looks up at you. Anthony grabs your hips, lowering you the rest of the way, inch by delicious inch. Letting you feel every curve and throbbing vein as your body swallows him up.

“Fuuuck. Mmm… That—” he rasped, his eyes glued to the spot where your bodies met. “Ugh, fuck. That’s it, baby. Feels so good. So tight. So fucking deep,” he mumbled as he pressed his hand against your lower stomach, letting his thumb rub soothing circles on your clit.

You started to move and grind, making his eyes roll back, feeling the way your pussy clenched around him.

His grip tightened with desperation hand wrapped around your neck, fisting your hair to guide you down, pulling you into a deep kiss. “You’re unreal,” he whispered against your lips. “Look at what you’re doin’ to me.” His breathing was quick against yours, the man driving his heels into the mattress, fucking up into your drenched core for a moment before giving you back control.

“You know how lucky I am? I’ve got it all. I’ve got you. Right here. In my bed. On my cock. You’re everything, baby.” His head dropped back with a growl, his hands flying to your hips, gripping tight as his entire body arched under you. “Ride me again. Let me have it—”

You moaned through a smile, pushing off his strong chest to sit up again, bouncing, skin slapping against skin. “Fuck, just like that. Just like that, baby. Feels so good… Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop—”

He reaches up, guiding you up and down, the wet clap of skin getting louder with his added muscle.

You lean back slightly, hands braced on his thick thighs as he fills you over and over again. His praises pour from his lips between gritted teeth. “God, look at this view,” he groans.

You feel your orgasm building, sharp and fast, the pressure coiling in your stomach, and he feels it, too.

Anthony sits up, wrapping his arm tight around your waist, the other twisting in your hair again as your body trembles uncontrollably.

You gasp, swiveling your hips, grinding down as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, breathing heavy.

“Cum for me, baby. Let go. Show me how perfect you are.” Your whole body clenches, back arching as you cry out, pulsing hard around him, your orgasm triggering his own. He growls your name, hips jerking as he buries himself deep, cumming hard, holding you so close.

He lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, pulling back just enough to find your lips for a tender kiss. “You’re amazing,” he breathes. “So good to me. You know that?” He whispers as his hands hold your cheeks, forehead resting against yours. “So perfect for me.”

You nod, still dazed, lips brushing his. “You’re perfect for me too.”

He grins, eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he pulls you closer, his voice a husky whisper against your lips. “Best part of a win, baby. Nothin’ like coming home to you.”