thinking about mr. h fucking a cute little camp counselor. he has two months to blow his load into you and fuck you on the desk in his office. it’s even riskier when the walls are paper thin and you’re babbling sweet little ‘no’s.
“god...” he groans, hands squeezing your hips before loosening his grip. “this sweet little pussy is all mine, hm?”
you’re so cute as you lie in his bed, lips parted and panting while he rocks into you. your thighs sticky and coated with his cum. his name leaves your lips in a mewl, hands coming up to push at his hips and head shaking no.
“don’t push me away... nuh-uh— everyone’s out for the day, sweetheart. it’s just me n’ you.”
god, he just wants to tie you up and put you in the basement— maybe even that little door behind his closet. he’ll tell everyone else you went on a hike and never returned.
After reading your Mr. H headcanon, all I can think about now is him spitroasting you with Travis (and maybe even Bobby 😳) in his basement and I am just like-💦💦💦
I— JENDJEJWJW big brain idea. i’m assuming you’re talking about these headcanons. (^-^)v
also, oh bobby... big beefy man. ;(( i chose to mainly only focus on travis bc i haven’t written for him at all and i’m in love with him. ;((
why travis would agree with sharing someone with his brother... i’m not sure. maybe it’s a drunk conversation after birthday beers. who knows?
but he was not expecting to see a camp counselor— teary-eyed and somewhat hopeful to see him —on some mattress in his younger brother's basement and once again he’s questioning himself about what he should do. then he remembers family is family and he already has so many other things he’d take to the grave because of them.
i don’t know why but i feel like mr. h would have you chained down there with a collar on.
travis can be mean... that’s all i’m going to say. he’s stuffing his cock down your throat, hand in your hair gripping hard— telling you not to bite down or else. the words spewing out of his mouth are pure filth while he looks down on you with some sort of disgust written on his face.
((note. he never acknowledges his brother after you guys start. just the initial:
‘so we’re doing this?’ the question comes from travis.
‘i guess...’ chris hums while he stares at your naked form. ‘who gets to fuck her pretty pussy?’
the only answer chris gets is a scoff before travis goes towards your head and unbuckles his belt. after that it’s like they’re not even in the room with each other.))
chris... he’d be all ‘you’re our nasty slut, huh?’ while he caresses your waist and ass, smacking it a few times just to see you splutter around his brother's dick from shock.
they’re both mean, but chris just sprinkles in the right amount of praise that has you drooling down the sides of your mouth and moaning like no tomorrow.
after this whole little fiasco, you’d get visits from travis daily— especially with everything he has to deal with.
he could be fucking your face and he’s letting little things slip out frustratingly— they never make sense to you, but you can tell his life is difficult. you could be face down ass up and he’s absolutely livid about this month's full moon, slamming into you and shooting his cum in your tight pussy.
in some fucked up way, you’d both come to care about each other more than you should.
this was supposed to be apart of my last mr. h headcanon / blurb thingy but i deleted it bc it just didn’t mesh well with everything else. also, his desk is like fucking... opened lmaoo so just pretend he has an enclosed desk or whatever msjsjs anywho,
‘or when ryan walks into his office to talk about some obscure thing and he can feel you tense while sucking his cock under his desk. he’s not letting you go so easily— hand wrapped around your wrist, making it seem like his hand is on his own thigh.’
