Note: All these headcannons are mature aka SPICY HEADCANNONS ✨Mentions of drinking! Afab reader! Step-Sister reader!
Nick Leister who… doesn’t really care that other people are around. He doesn’t mind being public with you, but it’s you who gets anxious. ‘What if someone sees us?’ ‘What if someone hears us?’ He doesn’t care. He does whatever he wants because he can. At social events, while everyone’s mingling about with their drinks and fake smiles, he’s face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and drilling himself into you like no tomorrow. Backed up against a wall legs wrapped around his hips. He’s drinking up every sound you make, certain on easing your worries about getting caught while hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. He knows people will question him, ask him where he’s been and what he was doing. He wants to answer you, but he smiles and says he just needed a breath of fresh air.
Nick Leister who… waits for your mother and hid father to leave for the weekend, going on a business trip and ignoring their ‘Be careful! Be nice to each other!’ And oh is he nice, so nice because he takes his time kissing you through the kitchen, caging you against the countertop with his arms and hips, heated kiss so deep you don’t notice his hands shaking as they rest on your waist, just under the hem of your shirt. He’s so nice, letting you run your fingers through his hair, and groaning when you pull just right to make his head spin, nails raking against his scalp and he lives for it.
Nick Leister who… catches you trying on his clothes, a large shirt covering your frame. He watches from the doorway, watches you spin around in his shirt, a tie of his loosely around your neck. He grins when he realizes he likes the sight of you in his clothes more than he’d realized. He especially likes taking them off you. ‘They’re not yours, it’s only right I help you take it off. Don’t you think?’ He’ll lift the shirt off you, leaving you in a tie as he takes his time with you, showing you why you don’t go snooping (though for what it’s worth, you definitely don’t regret it after having his face between your thighs) He’ll get on his knees, looking up at you after asking where you need him most.
Nick Leister who… does whatever you ask of him. It starts with little things at first. ‘Can you pick me up from..?’ Or an occasional, ‘Can you pick up some coffee for me?’ Simple favors. Something only a good ‘house-mate’ would do. But he loves when you ask for help on other things. Like when you tip-toe into his room late at night once your parents have gone off to bed, large sleep shirt draped over you as you shyly knock on his door. He’ll let you in, buying the fake excuse that you ‘had a bad dream’ and let you stay in his bed. And he’ll help you all the same when you ask him to get you off, ripping off your panties faster than you can finish your question. He’s between your legs in an instant, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you pull him closer, grinding onto his face because his tongue is ‘oh-so-good’ and he grinds into the bed beneath him at your moans.
Nick Leister who… loves seeing you in that pretty bathing suit. Watching you run into the water, hair tied back and not a care in the world, running into the waves and letting the water roll off your skin when you call for him to join you. And he does, painfully and running as fast as he can as to avoid the questions about the growing tent in his pants. He’ll throw you under water, splash and grab you, but all he can think about is how much better you’d look when he takes it off you. And he does, finally after so many torturing hours of watching you run around in that little bikini. He’ll skip his fingers under the fabric, fingers working their way through your folds to get to where you need him most. He’ll kiss down your chest, nipping and biting at the skin like if his life depends on it, leaving little hickies and bite marks over the swell of your breast. He isn’t going to hide it. Doesn’t want too. He’ll push the fabric to the side, lowering his swim trunks just enough to get inside you, and fighting the urge to finish right then and there.
