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Drowns the love (Reader x Benedict Bridgerton ft. Anthony)

Requested by: @awesomemikaus Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine  , @venomsvl, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr

Summary: set in s1. Reader is married to Anthony yet he cares little for you. Head only filled with Sienna. Making you feel alone and miserable at any given time. Making you question why he married you in the first place. His brother Benedict starts spending time with you to fill in his brother's lack. Till one day, he finds himself in love with you

Holding you by your elbow, he opened the door. Pushing you inside. With stumbling feet you moved inside, nearly losing your balance. It was the first time you saw his room, making you take it all in with curiosity. When Anthony brushed past you, you looked back down. Expression settling with confusion as he moved from side to side.

Suddenly a coat on his arm as he made his way back to the door. Hand on the handle, door slightly creaked open as you spoke. – “Are… are you not staying?” – you asked. Anthony sighed loud, briefly closing the door more.  – “I am leaving for tonight.” – he responded. – “I…I don’t understand.” – you answered with furrowed brows.

“You can stay here, but I shall leave.” – he informed you, making himself clearer. – “But… but it is our wedding night. Surely you can stay with your newly wife right?” – you moved a bit closer to him in the hopes of understanding him. – “I shall speak with you later.” – he said moving the door more open, wanting to disappear through.

“Is there truly something more important than our marriage?” – you questioned. Anthony lowered his head with a deep sigh. – “I am not going to debate this with you.” – he answered firm, merely looking over his shoulder at you. – “I merely want to understand. You need to tell me…” – nearly begging him to make it clear.

“I do not need to do anything. I decide!” – he suddenly snapped at you, raising his voice. Making you blink surprised at the change of tone in his voice. – “I have decided, I am your viscount!” – words trembling with anger and force. Settling you back with fright. Making you move back, folding your hands together in front of you.

“My mistake.” – you responded, lowering your head. – “I thought you were Anthony. Forgive me, my viscount.” – sounding dull and formal, you curtsied at him. – “I shall not delay you any further.” – curtsying again in humbleness at him. The sudden shutting of the door with a loud thud, made you jump out of your skin. Threatened with such a harsh sound.

Aware of a coldness clasping around your heart, it set a heaviness in your chest. Stumbling back, you came sitting down on the edge of the bed. Staring in silence before you. Staring in wait for your newly husband to return. After a few hours, you laid yourself down under the covers.

Remaining quiet when you heard the door open creakingly. Pretending to be asleep, you listened in to the sounds. Footsteps shuffling in the room towards the other side of the bed. The blanket being lifted up. The warmth of a body joining you in the bed. The flowery perfume of a girl.  A girl.

With your back against him, you slowly opened your eyes. Needing no words for he had been with another girl. Another girl he felt more interesting than his newly wife. Soft snoring filled the room, letting you know he had fallen asleep. Slowly closing your eyes, a teardrop found its way down. His body barely touching yours. As if he was too afraid to get close.

Feeling rejected by him, you buried your face in your blanket to deafen out your sobs. Wondering what you had done wrong for him to seek comfort with a stranger instead of his newly wife. Feeling him turn in the bed, you held your breath. Arching your back as you didn’t want his touch. He deserved none.

His hand neared your back, inches away from it. Still hearing his soft snoring. The smell of her perfume on him fresher than ever. The nauseating smell made your stomach turn. Bathed in her scent, you could tell just how close they had come. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to smell it. Slipping out of the bed.

Creeping barefoot towards the door. Closing it behind you to be released from the clutching grip of her presence. Sighing soft, you stared into he empty darkened hallway. Knowing the entire household would be sleeping.

Not wanting to return to bed, to him, you went down the stairs. Quietly. Leaving tiny footsteps in the house’s belly. Reaching the drawing room, you went inside. Lighting a few candles. Wandering around, letting your finger trail over the table’ s edge.

An unfinished game of chess untouched from Hyacinth and Gregory’s game. Exhaling soft, you picked up a pawn, resetting it. Intrigued, you started to re-arrange all the pieces in their beginning’s position. Sitting down with a sigh. Letting a pawn balance under your finger. Boringly you moved the pawn forwards.

Gaze resting on the empty seat in front of you. Staring mindlessly at it for you had no one to play with. No partner as the loneliness started to kick in. Needing to do your very best to not cry. If this what marriage presented, you didn’t want it.

Upon a presence barging into the room, made you jump out of your skin with a loud gasp. – “Y/n?” – Benedict breathed out confused, lowering the candleholder in his hand. Exhaling loud as he needed to settle down. – “What… what are you doing up? It’s the middle of the night.” – Benedict spoke setting the candle holder away.

“I could ask you the same.” – you responded, staring back at the chess game. – “I…I… couldn’t sleep. Hells Y/n I thought there was a burglar upon seeing the light come from under the door.” – he panted out, his heart rate slowing down as the danger had passed.

“I’m sorry.” – you responded, looking down at your lap. Benedict approached you. – “What are you doing here all by yourself. Should you not be with my brother?” – his brows furrowed in confusion. You could not respond, for you didn’t know what to say.

His gaze went down on the chess board, seeing a pawn being set up ahead. Curling up a smile, he pulled the other chair back. Coming to sit opposite from you. – “Playing chess with yourself is awfully dull. May I join you?” – he asked. Shrugging your shoulders a bit, you didn’t mind.

Benedict came leaning forwards, fingers holding his chin with a thoughtful expression. Moving his hand to the board, he moved a pawn forwards. – “Has my brother given you hell?” – he spoke, gaze glued to the board. Pawn in your hand, you froze. Gaze widening as you wondered how he knew.

Benedict furrowed his brows once more when you didn’t seem to respond. Seeing the frightful glance in your eyes, made him chuckle. – “I was just teasing.” – responding to wave the matter away with no attachment. You nervously set your piece down.

Benedict set upon his turn a piece. Watching you and your next move. – “I don’t know what he is giving me.” – you said softly. Benedict frowned. You noticed it, smiling softly. Moving yourself up your seat, you came leaning over the board to press a finger against his forehead.

“Didn’t your mama tell you that frowning too much makes wrinkles?” – you laughed out. Benedict stared at your face for a moment. Taking your finger from against his forehead, lowering it to his chest. – “Maybe I like wrinkles.” – he responded, moving your finger from side to side. You laughed again.

“I very much doubt that.” – sitting yourself back down as he let go of your finger. – “No one likes wrinkles.” – you added, brushing your hands over your skirt. – “Maybe I do.” – Benedict responded, frowning his forehead specially for you. Making you laugh more at how he was toying with you.

He scrunched his nose with a silly smile, as it nearly made you choke on your laughter. – “Calm Y/n, calm. Don’t go dying on me now.” – Benedict spoke haven risen from his chair. Slapping your back as you ended up coughing. – “I’m… I’m fine…” – saying out of breath, you moved your hand behind you for him to stop butchering your back.

His slapping turned to soothing. Palm running lovingly over your back. – “You good?” – questioning a second time to be certain. Humming loud with a nod, you let him know it was alright. – “You should head back to bed.” – he stated with a concerning glance. – “I…I don’t want to.” – you really didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to be infected by her venomous perfume that captured your husband. Looking up, you felt the loneliness kick in again. It was stilled for a moment with his presence. Now that he appeared to be leaving, it roared louder than before. – “Will you stay?” – asking. Begging.

Benedict saw the pleading in your eyes. Making himself lower down to make it easier for you to look upon him. Crouched by the table. One arm resting on the table, the other over his knee. – “Of course.” – his voice soft and soothing. Nodding shakingly, you were relieved that he wished to stay with you. Benedict got back up, sitting in the chair to finish the game of chess till early in the morning.

Anthony was barely surprised to see you were up early. Unaware that you had not slept the night in his bed. – “Morning family.” – he addressed, looking over at his siblings. You curled up a smile, awaiting to be addressed. Perhaps last night was a mistake and now he would fully dedicate himself to you.

Anthony let his gaze go briefly to you. – “Wife.” – he said before going over to the table where Gregory and Hyacinth were. The choice of words was gut-wrenching. Tearing you apart for you had hoped he would have given you mercy. Smile immediately faltering. Your gaze locking briefly with Benedict from across the room.

His brows once more furrowed, clearly trying to understand his brother’s approach. After breakfast you went over to your husband. – “Anthony I thought we cou-“ – words suddenly caught off by him. – “I have no time.” – he responded, taking his coat. – “Are… are you leaving again?” – you questioned.

“Yes, is that a problem?” – he stated, narrowing his eyes at you. Daring you to say it was. Slouching your shoulders, you took a step back. – “No.” – saying softly with a lowered head. – “Good, don’t stay up for I shall not be here.” – were his final words as he took his leave. The slamming of the door making you jump out of your skin.

Turning saddened around, your gaze widened upon seeing Benedict by the door opening. Having listened in. Ashamed, you fluttered your eye lashes quickly to avoid crying. – “Y/n.” – Benedict said when you walked past him. – “Y/n!” – he repeated going after you, reaching for your hand to take.

His grip went around your wrist, pulling you towards him. Making you nearly bump against him. – “I…I have no excuses for him.” – he said in a way to apologize for his brother’s behaviour. – “I don’t want any.” – you responded, pulling your hand out of his grip. Running away from his presence as you couldn’t take it anymore.

The demising words of your husband. The lack of love. The care for another that you could never be. Making you wonder why he ever married you in the first place. For all the charm he had towards you burned the moment he got married to you. Making you wonder if he ever loved you.

That night you were back downstairs. Sitting by the window, staring outside in the darkness. The door creeped open once more, uncaring to you. – “I figured you would be here.” – Benedict speaking as he entered more, closing the door behind him.

Nervously he approached you. – “May I keep you company?” – he asked, fumbling with his hands. You slowly looked upon him with teary eyes. Staring at him, captivating. Nodding with an agreement, surrendering to his presence. Benedict neared, coming to sit with you on the sofa. Looking out of the window as well.

“I’m sorry for my brother.” – he said. – “You keep apologizing for him.” – you responded, fidgeting with your nails. – “I know…” – his voice hoarse. Exhaling soft, you let your head rest on the railing, laying on your arm. Batting your eyes up to him. Benedict came laying his head down as well. Gazing back at you in silence. Bathing in your presence with a hidden smile on his lips.

Night after night you went downstairs. Whilst your husband was visiting the other girl. Benedict kept you company. Sitting in silence with you or playing games of chess, cards or pass the time outside. Anything to pass the hours. Anything to make you forget about your husband and the marriage you had found yourself in.

On a fortnight you found yourself once more downstairs. Standing by the window. Staring outside. Benedict approaching you. Coming to stand beside you. Sensing him near, made you glance briefly at him before looking back at the glass. – “It hurts me to say this, but it hurts me more to stay.” – speaking a truth you had been harbouring inside you.

Fingers bleeding from picking up the pieces Anthony made of you. – “Y/n, please.” – Benedict responded touching your elbow. – “I just want anything that's left of me.” – words hoarse with a whisper for you didn’t know how much more you could take.

Turning your head, you lifted your gaze up, meeting up with his saddened eyes. Blinking softly at his staring gaze. Brows slightly furrowing with the anew emotion inside of him. Something you rarely had seen. – “Please…” – he begged again, fingers setting deeper into your elbow.

“I don't want any of it anymore.” – you responded with tears in your eyes. Benedict moved his hand to your cheek, shuddering out a breath. – “Take your heart somewhere else.” – he whispered nearing his face to you. Nose almost touching yours. Pulling a bit back, hesitant for what he was about to do. Yet in this moment he didn’t want to lose you.

If his brother could not see what he cherished, he would. With a shuddering breath, he guided his head more down. Lips pressing gently on your cheek. Taking his time before moving his face in front of you once more. Gaze downwards to your lips. Lowering to kiss your lips tenderly. Short and still hesitant. Yet the moment his lips had touched yours, he surrendered kissing you once more. Longer and deeper for you to feel his love. A love his brother couldn’t give you.

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[fangirlsidebloghoe]

reader trying to patch up Jess after a fight but he keeps trying to distract her by flirting with her 🤭 (could be dating or not! Either one is fine 😁)

𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓.

pairing(s): jess mariano x reader

words: 740

warnings/tags: established relationship, violence – aftermath, blood mentioned, jess teasing the whole time, small sexual implications but it’s a sfw writing!

when the front door knocked at half one in the morning you knew exactly who it belonged to, you were just surprised it wasn’t your bedroom window for once. you yawn deeply, comfortable pyjamas and slippers carrying you to the door which reveals a bloody-faced jess.

"jess!” you gasp, furrowed eyebrows as he smiles innocently on your front step to your small stars hollow bungalow, “you look so pretty, baby.” you knew it was him trying to distract you, as if a flirty line would make you forget about the cut lip and clearly to-be-black eye.

you grab his collar, “don’t ‘baby’ me, look at your face, jess,” you say as you begin to pull him through the door and past you. he kisses your cheek affectionately despite the sting in his bottom lip, “i can’t really look, doesn’t work like that.”

“then use the bathroom mirror.”

you shut the door and turn to him holding your face between his hands, watching your expression and you push on his chest, “stop-”. before you can continue, jess interjects, “think i’m just gonna go lay down in your bed, care to join? i can make it worth your while…”

he presses against you, lips trailing from your jaw down to your neck. “what happened?” you ask, pushing his chest again and he murmurs against your skin, “i don’t know what you mean.”

“jess.”

sighing, jess finally pulls back to look at you again, “nothing, ‘m fine. just stupid dean.” his hands leave your face to wrap his arms around your waist but you’re wriggling free to grab his denim jacket arm and guide him to the bathroom.

“what did he do?” you ask. it’s refreshing, jess always thought, how you were probably the very low minority of people in the town that immediately sense it was something dean did and not jess.

you let go of him to open the back of the mirror and grab a first aid kit, jess moving forward to wrap his arms around you. back pressed against your chest as he continues to press kisses, this time against your hair while he rubs the hem of your pyjama top, threatening to go under.

in a small voice, jess responds, “he was being very mean about you, what kind of good boyfriend would i be if i didn’t do something about that?” his voice is teasing and you nudge your elbow into his front, jess letting out a yelp as you turn.

“you didn’t need to fight him over it,” you reply, gesturing for him to sit on the closed toilet lid while you open the box and withdraw some alcohol wipes to clean the blood-stained skin.

standing between his open legs, you swipe the wipe across his temple first, catching the bumps. jess watches, gazing up at you with his chin upon your chest while his hands find their way to the backs of your covered thighs.

“you are so fucking pretty,” jess compliments and you try not to quip a smile as he’s watching to intently. “stop flirting like i’ll forget,” you murmur, “am i not allowed to compliment my girlfriend?” asks jess in faux innocence.

you sigh at him, and for a few more moments you clean his face in silence. “are you mad at me?” jess suddenly asks into the small room, hands swiping across your pyjama legs affectionately.

watching his expression for a moment, you throw the wipe towards the small metal bin before dotting a couple of small circular plasters along the open wounds to stop the bleeding.

“no. i just wish you would walk away instead of stooping to his level.”

jess squeezes your thighs, “he was really not saying nice things about you.” your hands wind up in his hair, pushing back so you can gaze at his features more clearly, “i don’t care.”

without a breath, jess replies, “i do.”

your heart jumps, you can’t help it and his hands push against your thighs, willing you closer while he stands, “let me show you what you mean to me, baby.”

the implication is followed with kisses against your jaw and the corner of your mouth, clearly uncaring of his cut lip, “i think fighting another guy for saying things about me says what i mean to you-”

“shh,” jess responds, capturing your lips in a searing kiss and willing you to distraction. you could talk about it more tomorrow.

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[fangirlsidebloghoe]

minor flash warning fellas

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🏖️ monkees at the beach!

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Monkees in Paris ݁˖❀ The Monkees 2x22

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Private Dances 7

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist

Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 3100

Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul. 

The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. 

You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost. 

Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension. 

Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.” 

You nod. 

“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast. 

You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet. 

“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words. 

“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour. 

Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.” 

But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway. 

“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.” 

Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved. 

“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.” 

But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out. 

Some twisted hierarchy. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat. 

“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice. 

All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze. 

You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”

“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”

Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”

The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack. 

Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise. 

You turn instinctively, your mind racing.

Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast. 

Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office. 

The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him. 

You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare. 

He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes. 

“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet. 

He shakes his head. 

You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?” 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…” 

You let him stumble over his words. 

“I… that was impolite… of me.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions. 

Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.

“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.” 

Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.

“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.” 

“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?” 

His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”

You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him. 

Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.

Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?

“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark. 

Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips. 

Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip. 

“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak. 

You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”

“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering. 

“Never interrupt me.” 

His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core. 

You watch him with hard eyes. 

“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”

“I thought we were past this.” 

He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before. 

You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”

You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck. 

As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying. 

“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look. 

He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down. 

“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”

He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”

You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe. 

“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there. 

“It’s alright.” 

He nods. “Thank you.” 

Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears. 

He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. 

He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh. 

“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh. 

He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button. 

Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles. 

“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.” 

“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap. 

“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek. 

You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”

“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton. 

You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive. 

He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you. 

He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds. 

He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit. 

He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself. 

You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful. 

“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides. 

You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.

Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back. 

You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you. 

“Seeing you cry turns me on.” 

“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.

You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?” 

He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.

“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods. 

“Please.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.” 

You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls. 

“Ready?” 

He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force. 

But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had. 

He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.” 

You smack him. Harder this time. 

He turns quickly. “Again.”

Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Agai-”

Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.

Smack.

He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls. 

He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily. 

You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms. 

He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy. 

He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself. 

“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.” 

“Blue-”

“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?” 

You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue. 

You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans. 

Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head. 

He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan. 

“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.” 

You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.

You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture. 

He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality. 

“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves. 

But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless. 

“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening. 

He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-

You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being. 

You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can. 

You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover. 

Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come. 

Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs. 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

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This will be my first time writing for kinktober, hope you all enjoy <3

⭐︎ List created by me <3 I’ll be adding onto the list if I think of others! By the way new character will be in the works!

1. Best-friend - Poe Dameron x reader (published)

2. Gamer bf/on call - Miguel O’Hara x reader

3. Halloween party - Jake Lockley x reader

4. Edging - Marc Spector x reader

5. Cock warming - Loki x reader

6. Choking - Blue Jones x reader

7. Predator x pray game - Miguel O’Hara x reader

8. Dads best friend - Joel Miller x reader

9. Corruption kink - Raymond Leon x reader

10. Breeding kink - Steven Grant x reader

11. Fingering/Sub - Jake Lockley x reader

12. Size kink - Bucky Barns x reader

13. Creampie - Steven Grant x reader

14. Temp play (ice cubes) - Miguel O’Hara x reader

15. Bondage - Santiago Garcia x reader

16. Praise kink - Joel Miller x Reader

17. Impact play - Poe Dameron x reader

18. Overstimulation - Jonathan Levy x reader

19. Dumbification - Miguel O’Hara x reader

20. Mile high club - Poe Dameron x reader

21. Tutor - Miguel O’Hara x reader

22. Phone sex! - Steven Grant x reader

23. Pussy! Fiend - Bucky Barns x reader

24. Sex! Toys - Poe Dameron x reader

25. Academic rivals - Miguel O’Hara x reader

26. Touched starved - Poe Dameron x reader

27. Cam girl - Steven grant x Reader

28. Car sex! - Jonathan Levy x reader

29. Riding! - Steven grant x reader

30. Brat tamer - Loki x reader

31. Rough sex - Joel Miller x reader

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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝖾𝗑!𝗃𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗀𝗈𝖽, 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟧,𝟨𝟢𝟧 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌; 𝟥𝟢,𝟩𝟦𝟩 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 '𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗅', 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 '𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒', 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 '𝗌𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋'. 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍, 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 '𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗌', 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿, 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗆 (𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍), 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄.

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝗈 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾. 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗂'𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗐.

"Enjoy the show, doll?"

You laughed, feeling a tad light-headed from the sudden dizziness of him picking you up and swinging you around. You wrapped an arm around Riff's broad shoulders as your head came to rest against his chest. You had to admit, the feel of his muscles wasn't awful against your face.

You hummed a reply, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He was so close to you, his hands on your waist. You were practically encircled by his strong arms.

"You did great, handsome."

Riff's grin only grew wider when he heard the word handsome, his chest swelling just a little. That's what he wanted to hear, he worked hard for this praise. He wanted you to think he could take care of you, he 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 you to.

Ever since The Jets had disbanded, he'd felt lost, with no sense of purpose. Sometimes, it felt like he could still feel where he'd been stabbed, and he had the jagged scar to prove it.

Then there was you. This beautiful, angelic being of a woman. You saw past his flaws, his past grievances, his past sins.

After everything went down, he woke up in your spare room. You were too good for this world, picking him up off the street like he was a stray dog. After that, he wished he could take everything back. The gang war, the violence, the cruel and unjustified hatred. All of it. It never meant anything good.

All it got him was senseless violence and prejudice, against people who were just like him. He had judged people for the color of their skin, like they had done something to personally offend him. It was cruel, unadulterated hatred, and hatred that was never right, nor needed.

And you, you knew that. You knew he had done bad things in his past, you knew he'd been involved in gang wars. But you also knew he'd changed. He had friends now, friends the younger version of him wouldn't dare to be close to. It was hard, at first.

That hatred was so ingrained in him from birth, from his father before him. His father had always told him who was important, and who wasn't. And for a very long time, he believed that. He believed it so much, that he couldn't figure out how to not be that way.

And he hated himself for it. He hated the way he'd acted, the things he'd done, the things he'd caused. It dug a deep, withering hole in his chest, one filled with self loathing, and depreciation.

But you were there through it all. Through the confusion, through the reprogramming, through the gradual integration and acceptance. The acceptance that his father was wrong, that no two people were the same, and that was okay. Because they were all people.

Life felt so much lighter, after that. He didn't have to listen to his father's sharp tongue in his head anymore. He was free to do whatever he pleased, be friends with whoever he pleased. It felt good, to not feel like he had to be that person anymore. Because he wasn't him anymore.

He leaned in with a hum, tilting your chin up with a finger. "Yeah?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was hoping that would get your attention."

You hummed out another laugh and pressed your body closer against his, tilting your face into his touch. Those rough hands of his always felt so 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 against your skin, and you weren't ashamed to admit it.

"Oh, you always have my attention," you replied, looking up at him with a knowing gleam in your eyes. "Whether you want it or not."

Riff chuckled deeply, wrapping his other arm around your body. His fingers traced over your back, his touch light and almost teasing. He could feel your curves against his chest, and he couldn't help but run his tongue over his lip at the feeling.

"Trust me," he murmured, bending to whisper in your ear. "I 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 want it." You felt a shiver run down your spine as his tongue flicked across his lips, that familiar spark of 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 beginning to build in your stomach. You pressed closer, feeling the warmth of his breath on your ear, his voice sending tingles down your chest.

"Is that right?" You all but purred in reply, your fingers tangling in his hair. Riff made a soft, appreciative hum, leaning his head into your touch like a dog seeking attention. His eyes closed for a brief moment, enjoying the feeling of your hands against his skin.

"Of course it is, doll," he replied, his tone still soft and low in your ear. He could feel you press closer against him, your curves fitting perfectly in his arms. He couldn't stop his hands from grabbing at you, his fingers squeezing your sides possessively.

"I can't get enough of you."

You let out a gasoline at the feel of his hands on your sides, his grip tight and possessive. You were 𝘩𝘪𝘴, and 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵. Damn near the entire neighborhood knew it.

With a hum, you wrapped your arms over his broad shoulders, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. You loved how he just 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 into your touch, like he was under your spell. Sometimes you teased yourself that you had him wrapped around your finger (you did, but he'd never admit it out loud).

"Prove it," you retorted, nipping at his earlobe. Riff's breath hitched at the feel of your teeth on his earlobe, heat flaring in his chest. He would never admit it, but you knew how to get what you wanted from him with just a single touch.

He couldn't help but push you against the metal bench behind, pinning you between his body and the cold surface. His hands slid down to drip your hips, his fingers biting into the soft denim.

"Careful, baby," he practically growled, his lips brushing against your jawline. "I just might."

You let out a low moan, the feel of his body pressing against yours like a damn 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨. Your hands ran up over his shoulders, your nails scraping lightly against the back of his neck. You knew how sensitive his neck and shoulders were.

You gasped softly, tilting your head back to give him more room as he nipped at your jaw. You let your eyes flutter shut for a brief moment.

"Don't tease me, Riff," you mumbled, your hands still roaming aimlessly along his bare shoulders. Riff chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up the back of your shirt to feel the soft skin there. His lips continued their path down towards your collar, placing a chaste kiss there before speaking again.

"You're cute when you think you're in charge," he murmured against your throat, his fingers squeezing your hips. He pressed against you, a firm roll of his body that brought you flush against him. He heard you gasp at the friction, his smile growing against your skin.

Your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt a she teased you, your breath catching in your throat at his actions. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, an aching need building between your thighs.

You tried to regain your composure, your hands moving to grip his forearms. You could feel his muscles flexing under your touch, and that only made you more desperate.

"I have you wrapped around my finger, and you know it," you managed to get out, your voice shakier than you'd hoped.

Riff's fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to bare your throat once more. His lips left a trail of nips and kisses along the sensitive expanse, his body still pressed completely against yours.

He relished the sounds you let slip through parted lips, the feel of you gripping his arms, the way you 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 under his touch.

"Do you now?" He asked huskily, his voice barely above a murmur. His hands slide down to palm at your ass, holding you against him. "If you say so, sugar."

"I 𝘥𝘰-" You gasped at the touch of his hands on your derriere, the heat pooling desperately in your stomach. You couldn't help the little whine that came from your lips, your body grinding against him involuntarily.

You tried to catch your breath, your fingernails digging into the taut muscles of his forearms. You loved how they flexed under your touch, the way they grabbed you so hard.

"So don't tease me," you nearly begged, a shiver running down your spine as he nipped at your neck again. Riff hummed against your skin, the sound of your whine going straight to his groin. He loved getting you all hot and bothered, loved it when you were all but 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, but it was only fair to give you what you desired.

With another bite to your shoulder, he rolled his hips against you again. He ground against you, pressing himself against your body. He felt your hands squeeze his arms, heard the gasp that passed your perfect lips.

His voice was lower, closer to a growl as he spoke. "Beg for it."

You gasped, the friction of his body grinding against yours sending spikes of heat through you. You nearly 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 at the feel of his body up against yours, and you felt your legs beginning to shake.

You swallowed thickly, trying to keep yourself from sounding too needy. "Please," you whispered against his neck, your lips brushing against his skin. "I need you. 𝘕𝘰𝘸."

You could feel him press against you still, his body heat seeping through your clothes. You wanted to feel him, skin to skin.

Riff groaned at the needy plea, his fingers tightening in your hair. He loved how your voice broke when you begged, how your body trembled beneath his touch.

He needed you just as badly. He could feel how your body arched against his, the way your hands clutched at his arms.

He pulled back suddenly, his eyes dark with desire as he looked into yours. “Turn around.” He ordered, his voice gravelly.

You shivered at his tone, the way he spoke so 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. He could get you to do anything he wanted with just a few words.

You obeyed instantly, feeling almost giddy as you turned your back to him. Your breathing was coming out ragged now, your body aching and wanting.

“What now?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

He could hear the breathlessness in your tone and it only served to drive him 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥. Your obedience was the icing on the cake.

Riff stepped up behind you, his hands immediately going to your hips to grip and pull you back against him. He could feel the heat of you through your clothes, and he almost growled, his voice a low rumble as he bent to nip at your ear.

“Lean back against me."

You shuddered, your body pressing back against his. You could feel his muscles against you, the heat and hardness of his chest against your back. It felt 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨, and it was taking everything in you to not beg him again.

You did as he asked, leaning back against his solid form. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands grabbed your hips, and it only served to fan the fire inside of you.

Riff wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Your body was a perfect fit against his, and he couldn’t help but press himself against you harder.

His lips came to rest against the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. His hands roamed over your body, groping and squeezing in a possessive touch.

He could feel how desperately needy you were, and it was driving him 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺.

“How badly do you want it, doll?” He murmured against your ear, his hands already moving to the fly of your jeans.

You let out a soft moan at the feel of his mouth against your neck, your body feeling like it was on fire. His hands on your body only served to drive you even more crazy, making you whimper and squirm against him.

You gasped at the feel of your jeans being undone, his fingers already tugging at them. Yoi didn’t even 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 that you were out in the open, just as long as he would 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 already.

You found your voice, your words a hoarse plea. “So badly, Riff. Please.”

Your pleading words went straight to his head, making him feel dizzy with desire. His breath came in short gasps, his hands struggling to undo your jeans.

He needed you, 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

Riff finally managed to pop the button of your jeans with a hiss, his hands immediately moving to pull them down yout legs. He left a wet trail of kisses down your neck, his lips moving to your bare shoulder.

You trembled at the feel of his lips and tongue against your skin, your breathing coming in shallow gasps now as you leaned back into him.

You were so distracted by the feel of his hot mouth on your body that you didn’t even notice how his hands were working to remove your jeans.

When the cold air hit your legs, she suddenly remembered your location.

“R-Riff,” you stuttered, “someone’s going to see… we can’t-”

Riff shushed you quietly, nipping at the skin of your shoulder. He didn’t care if you got caught, he didn’t care who saw.

𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

“They won’t notice.” He murmured against your ear, his hands working at the edge of your panties now. “Besides, you need this just as much as I do. I know you do.”

You couldn’t deny it, even if you wanted to. Your body was 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 with desire, aching for him to touch you.

You tried to speak again, your words broken by soft gasps. “R-Riff, we’ll get - 𝘢𝘩! - we’ll get in so much trouble-”

He grunted against your neck, his hands now gripping your hips tightly. He pressed himself against you from behind, his body hot and hard.

“Let them get us in trouble.” He growled, his lips moving back up to your ear. “Let’s give them something worth writing about.”

His hands found the edge of your panties again, his fingers sliding just underneath.

Your breath caught in her throat, your body arching back against his. His words sent a shiver down your spine, the idea of getting caught in such a compromising position sending the heat swirling through your stomach.

You were losing herself in him, your mind fuzzy and unable to properly think. “Jesus… 𝘙𝘪𝘧𝘧-"

His name on your lips sent a bolt of heat through him, and he couldn’t fight it anymore. There was no way he could wait any longer to touch you, to have you.

With a low growl, he pushed your panties down, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “You’re mine, doll.” He whispered in your ear, his voice rough with need. “All mine. And I’ll do 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 to prove it to you.”

Your head fell back against his shoulder, your chest heaving with ragged breaths. His possessive words only served to drive you wilder, the desire coursing through you like a fiery wave.

“Yes…” you gasped out, your voice desperate and pleading. “I’m yours, all yours.”

You reached back to grab his head, turning your own to try and catch his lips with yours.

Riff met you in a kiss that was almost 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, teeth and tongue and need all coming together. Your words had him 𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘴, his body thrumming with need.

His hands began to roam, one sliding up to caress your bare stomach, the other moving down to grip your hip. He pulled you flush against him, needing to feel as much of you as possible.

You moaned into the kiss, your body arching against his touch. His hands on your bare skin were like 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, sending sparks of heat through you.

You couldn’t think straight, your mind a fog of desire and want. You wanted him like you needed to 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦, needed to feel him pressed against you, inside you.

Your hands roamed over his arms, your nails scraping against his skin as you tried to get even closer to him.

Riff’s brain was short-circuiting. Yoir body pressed against his was like a drug, a rush that he couldn’t get enough of. Your nails biting into his skin only served to make him more desperate.

He pushed himself even harder against you, his hands grabbing at your bare skin anywhere he could reach. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to kiss and bite at your neck and shoulder, his hips grinding against you impatiently.

The feel of him pressed against you, of his lips and teeth on your skin, was sending you into a frenzy. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, the heat even more apparent now that your legs were bare.

You could feel that you were 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 for him, the fire in your stomach nearly driving you insane. You needed him, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, and you 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

“Just 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦 already, Riff, please, I can’t-”

His name coming from your lips in a broken plea was enough to break him. He couldn’t stand it any longer.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached down to unbutton his jeans and push them down his legs, freeing himself from the constricting fabric.

You felt the freeing of his legs against you, and you shivered. You needed to feel him, you wanted to be close to him, to have him touch and caress you.

Your heart was racing in her chest, your hands gripping his arms for support as you leaned back against him. You were so worked up now, your body aching for him.

“Riff-” you gasped out his name, your voice pleading. “Please.”

His mind was fogged with desire, his need for you overwhelming. He couldn’t take it anymore.

With a low guttural moan, he shifted his body, his hands pulling your hips back so they were tilted at the right angle.

His fingers gripped your hips tightly, his voice a rough murmur in your ear. “You want this?”

You felt his body shift against youre, your hips being angled in a way that only made the desire in your stomach coil even tighter. His voice, his 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, only made you even more desperate.

You nodded quickly, your breath coming out in short gasps as you tried to speak. “Yes, 𝘺𝘦𝘴, I want it, I want 𝘺𝘰𝘶, please, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦-"

That was all he needed to hear.

With a low groan, Riff rocked his hips forward, pushing himself inside you slowly.

The feel of him entering you, slowly but surely, sent a shiver down your spine. You let out a guttural moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as you took him in.

Riff had to fight to control himself, his entire being feeling like it was on the edge of 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. The feeling of you around him was better 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, and it was nearly enough to drive him insane.

He took a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. “Are you - 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 - are you okay?” He managed to ask, his voice shaky.

You shivered at his touch, the feel of his hands on your skin sending shots of heat through you. His voice was gruff, and it only served to make you more desperate for him.

You gasped and nodded, your breath coming out in ragged pants. You 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 more of him, needed him to 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦.

“I-I’m fine,” you managed to get out between breaths. “Please, 𝘙𝘪𝘧𝘧-”

His control snapped at the sound of your voice, pleading for him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, he needed to feel you, to feel 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

With a groan, he began to move, rocking his hips against yours in a slow and steady rhythm. He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t control his need for you.

“God, 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭,” he grunted, pulling her even tighter against him. “You feel so good… 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥-”

The feel of him inside you, moving like he was, was making you lose your mind. You could barely breathe, your body being consumed by heat and desire.

You could feel how his hands were gripping your hips, holding yoj tight and steady as he moved against you.

You leaned back into him, your head falling back against his shoulder as a low moan escaped you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭.

Riff was 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, his mind completely taken by you. The sound of your voice, the feel of your body against his, it was all too much.

He picked up speed, his hips grinding into yours in a desperate search for 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. His hands roamed over your body, his lips moving to your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin there.

“I need you,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a raw, guttural growl. “I 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 you.”

You were lost, completely and utterly lost in him. The way he moved, the way he spoke, it was sending you over the edge.

You could feel his lips against your neck, hot and wet against your skin, and it only made you 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦 for more.

Your hand came up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as you tried to find your voice. “Please, 𝘎𝘰𝘥, I need you too-”

There was no going back now. You were both too far gone, consumed by desire and need.

With a guttural moan, he picked up the pace, his hips rocking into yours in a maddening rhythm. He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, his other hand snaking around your body to caress your stomach.

He was completely entranced by you, lost in the heat and 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. He nipped at your neck, his voice a raspy murmur. “I’m gonna make you 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮, doll.”

Your body was in flames, his every touch and movement making you feel like you were about to ignite. His voice, his hands, 𝘩𝘪𝘮, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

You clutched at his arms, your nails digging into the skin as you desperately clung to him. You could barely breathe, your words coming out in gasps. “Please… 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, don’t stop-”

He didn’t think he’d be able to stop even if he wanted to. You were driving him absolutely 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺, his need for you growing with every gasp, every breath, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥.

He could feel your nails bite into his skin, and it only drove him 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. His hand slid up to caress your bare skin, his touch hungry and demanding.

“You like this?” He muttered in your ear, his voice a rough whisper. “You like the way I touch you?”

Your head fell back against his shoulder, your eyes falling closed as his words sent a shiver down your spine. The feel of his hand on your skin was like gasoline on the fire raging in your stomach.

“𝘠𝘦𝘴,” you gasped out, you voice shaking with a mixture of need and desperation. “Yes, 𝘺𝘦𝘴, I love it, I love the way you touch me… I love 𝘺𝘰𝘶-”

When you told him you loved him, something inside him 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦. The last shred of his control vanished, leaving only need and want in its place.

He gave a guttural moan, his hand moving down to your thigh, gripping and pushing your leg forward for better access. “I love you, 𝘎𝘰𝘥, I love you,” he gasped, his voice raw and rough.

His hips moved faster, driving into you with a need that he couldn’t control. You had him now, you had him and he was yours.

A guttural moan escaped you as he moved faster, his words sending a thrill through your veins. Your mind was a whirlwind, your body taking over and only focused on the feel of him.

“I know you do,” you whispered, your voice shaky with pleasure. “I know you do, and I love you too.”

You reached back to grab his head, pulling him closer to you, needing to feel him as close to you as possible. “Don’t stop, don’t 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱-”

He was too far gone to do anything but give you what you wanted. 

He thrust into you with more force, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to talk. “I won’t stop,” he grunted, his voice strangled. “I won’t stop, I promise. I’ll give you everything, I’ll 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 give you everything-”

He buried his face in your neck, his lips moving across your skin in a desperate search for more contact. He was lost in you, lost in the feeling of your body, and he never wanted to find his way back.

You felt like you were about to 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬, your body writhing against his, the heat and pleasure growing and growing until it felt like it was about to consume you. 

His face in your neck sent fresh waves of pleasure through you, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more access. “Ah, 𝘎𝘰𝘥,” you gasped out, your voice breaking. “Just like that, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦-”

He was consumed by you, lost in your warmth, your skin, your voice. His hands were roaming over you now, touching you everywhere he could, desperate to have as much of you as possible. 

Hearing your gasps, your 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢, only drove him further. He grunted against your neck, his own voice breaking with need. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips as he moved faster. “I’m right here, I’m 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, I’ll give you whatever you need-”

You cried out as he moved faster, your body aching and wanting more, more, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 of him, of everything he was giving you. 

It was too much, too 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, and you were so close to the edge, so close to falling over into oblivion. You reached back and grabbed his head, pulling his face closer to yours. 

“Riff-” you gasped out, your voice broken. “I’m so close, I’m-”

The feel of you pulling him close, your voice breaking as you tried to speak, sent a shiver down his spine. He was close too, 𝘴𝘰 close, but he was determined to hold on. He wanted to give you everything, give you everything you 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥, and he wouldn’t stop until he did. 

He buried his face in your neck again, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I’m right here, baby, I’m right 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦-”

His voice, his kisses, his hands, 𝘩𝘪𝘮, you were getting lost in him, consumed by the pleasure and the heat and the need, your upcoming orgasm threatening to overwhelm you.

You felt your body begin to tighten, that feeling building in the pit of your stomach, the one that told you that you were about to 𝘤𝘶𝘮. You clutched at him, your body trembling with need and want and desire. 

“I-” you gasped out, your voice ragged. “I’m gonna-”

He could feel your body start to tighten, he could hear it in your voice, and he knew you were close, so close, 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦-

With a grunt, he shifted his hands, grabbing your legs and bringing them up so you were balanced on your toes, your body angled even more than it was before. He began moving faster, his hand moving to your stomach to keep you steady as his lips found your ear. 

“𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰,” he whispered, his voice ragged and rough. “I’ve got you, doll, 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦-”

You lost yourself in the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands, his lips close to your ear, his words sending chills through you. 

“I trust you, 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶,” you managed to get out, your voice broken with pleasure. “I’m-” 

Unable to form any more words, you let out a guttural moan as that feeling coiled 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 and 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳-

That moan, the sound of you saying you trusted him, was almost enough to push him over the edge 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. He needed you, needed you to let go, to give in to the pleasure and the heat and everything between your bodies.

He moved faster, his hips grinding against yours, his hand on your stomach holding you tight against him. “Let go, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦,” he panted, his voice a desperate plea. “I need you to 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰-”

He was begging, pleading for you to let go, and you were right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over into oblivion if you just gave in, trusted in the pleasure and the heat and the love between the two of you. 

With a gasp, you let go, falling over the edge and into the void. Everything went white for a moment, the world shifting, stars appearing in your vision.

When you came, it was like the world tilted on its axis, everything shifting and changing, colors brighter, sounds clearer. He had you, he was going to give you everything he was, and he was 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 letting go. 

The feeling of your body clenching around him sent him spiralling over the edge, losing himself completely in you. He let out a guttural moan, his head falling to your shoulder as he held you tightly, the world around nonexistent. 

You could barely think, your mind a haze of pleasure and heat and the feel of 𝘩𝘪𝘮. Your body was still trembling, waves of pleasure washing over you like a tide. 

You could feel his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦. Your body was boneless, completely spent, but you still reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, needing to 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 him.

He was in pieces, completely shattered by you, by what the two of you had just shared. All he could do was hold you, his body still shuddering with aftershocks of pleasure. 

He could feel your touch, your hand in his hair, and he nuzzled his face into your neck, kissing lazily at the skin there. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to come back to reality and have to face the world. All he wanted to do was stay in this moment, stay in 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

You shivered as he nuzzled into your neck, the feel of his lips on your skin sending a thrill through your exhausted body. You loved this part, the part where he got all soft and sweet, where it was just the two of you and the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your body relaxed against his. “I love you,” you murmured quietly, the words spoken into his hair.

Those words - that little statement, so simple and yet so powerful - was like a tonic. He felt weary, wrung out and hollowed, and yet you saying '𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶' soothed him like nothing else could. 

He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, mumbling his reply against your skin. “I love you,” he said quietly, his voice rough from the effort. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your eyes drifting closed as you breathed in the scent of him. You could feel his words against your skin, could feel the truth in them, and it made you feel safe, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥. 

“Don’t be scared,” you whispered back, your hand sliding down to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a shuddering breath, his head still buried in your neck. He wanted to believe you, he 𝘥𝘪𝘥 believe you, but he was still scared. He was scared that one day you would realize that you could do better than an unemployed ex-gang member who probably wouldn’t ever have a steady job. He was scared that he’d wake up one day and you’d be gone. 

“You promise?” He mumbled into your skin, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Your heart squeezed at the vulnerability in his voice. You knew he had his insecurities, you knew he was scared sometimes, but he never voiced them, not like this. It broke your heart, but it also strengthened your resolve. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 going anywhere, you were going to prove to him time and time again that you weren’t going to leave him. 

You pressed another gentle kiss to the top of his head, your fingers still playing in his hair. “I promise,” you whispered, your voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Riff.”

A small, broken laugh escaped him at that. 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦. He loved the idea of that, spending the rest of his life with you. He wanted it, more than he wanted anything. 

“Okay,” he mumbled, his voice still soft and almost broken. “Okay, doll.” He pulled back so he could look at you, his eyes roaming over your face. “I’mma hold you to that.”

You looked up at him, a gentle, fond smile on your face. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, could see the way he needed you to reassure him, to 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 him. 

You lifted a hand to cup his jaw, your thumb gently caressing his cheek. “You should hold me to it,” you said quietly, your voice filled with sincerity. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me, Riff, whether you like it or not.”

[fangirlsidebloghoe]

— grounding

sam riordan (gen v) x gn!reader

genre: smut

summary: sam always listens to the rules you set, and he's always a good boy just for you

warnings: language, nsfw, sub!sam, dom!reader, edging, handjob

the room was filled with whimpers and light moans, with sam next to you on the bed in your dorm. his sweatpants were tugged down to his ankles with his boxers just low enough for his cock to be freed from its confinement.

"does that feel good, baby?"

sam nodded his head quickly, eyes screwed shut as you pumped his cock with your hand at a steady pace.

"use your words."

"y-yes," sam whimpered. "f-feels so good- fuck-" he threw his head back with a loud moan.

your thumb ran over the head of his cock, smearing his precum around as he let out tiny noises. you smiled at the sight of him, a complete mess, just for you. he was always good for you.

"such a good boy," you murmured into his ear, pumping your hand faster around his cock. "just for me, right?"

"yes," sam moaned. "just f-for you."

you could see his stomach clenching, a sign that he was about to cum but before he could you pulled your hand away. he let out a long whine as his hips bucked upward.

"be patient, sweetheart. i'll let you cum, eventually." you smiled at him.

pulling sam into a kiss, your nails dragged against his abs, slowly trailing back down as your hand wrapped around him again resulting in sam moaning into the kiss, his hips bucking again. you kept a fast pace as you pulled away from the kiss, but your faces just inches away from each other. you could feel his hot breath hitting your lips in short pants, and his hands grabbed your waist for something to steady him.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered. "please let me cum please, please, please," he begged you.

"i dunno, do you deserve it?" you teased, taking your hand away.

"yes, y-yes please, please- fuck-" tears filled sam's eyes as you stopped for what felt like the hundredth time. "please let me cum."

you didn't respond, starting to pump him again with a quick pace, watching him unravel beside you. "you're doing so good for me, baby. my good boy. just a little longer, okay? you're gonna feel great."

with a few more strokes on his cock, sam let out a guttural moan as his head hit the headboard, his hips jerking into your hand as he came all over his stomach and your hand.

"good boy," you kissed him deeply, his nails leaving marks on your waist.

"what do you say about round two?"

sam's eyes widened, but it wasn't out of fear. he nodded his head, knowing this was going to be a long night.

[fangirlsidebloghoe]

HELL IS A (FUCKING) ROOMMATE. JORDAN LI.

synopsis ; your roommate has the libido of a goddamn animal and it's driving you insane. not to mention the fact they have an annoying habit of jerking off in your dorm. to you.

they want you? fine—they can have you. only on your terms, though.

✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jordan. fem!reader, perv!roomate!jordan, dubcon, voyeurism, excessive masturbation (soz). wc ; 4.2k

YOU can do this. you can do this.

you grunt as you fumble for the key. cursing as, with an extreme lack of coordination—you begin to forcibly ram the bloody thing into the lock with the grace and precision of a sledgehammer. what you lack in motor control you make up for with inner beauty—or something.

the do not disturb sign rattles mockingly off the handle, meaning your roommate is definitely inside and definitely not helping out. you grit your teeth, entire body off kilter as you're preoccupied with balancing the boxes cramful of belongings in your arms; big and bulky and absolutely not helping your aim. you curse, loudly as they almost almost tumble out of your grasp the moment the key miraculously jams into place, jerking wildly to catch them. (note: super strength does not come with super-hand-eye-coordination.)

“fucking– stupid- key– fucking better– woah!” 

without warning, the door swings open, inwards. a montage of your entire life flits before your eyes as you hurtle forward, boxes and all. you just about barely manage to catch yourself with an undignified stumble before drawing yourself up; coming face to face with—oh.

two figures. bodies very noticeably.. inside. each other. naked. on, what you realise after a bout of disbelief; your fucking bed.

"what the fuck?"

one of them growls, mop of black hair flopping as their head snaps up, even though you're pretty sure you should be the one slinging expletives around. with a frustrated scowl they pull out of the dude, sending a withering glare to the poor guy they were fucking into the bedspread—to which he.. disappears? glitches out? phases out of existence? because suddenly he’s not there anymore, and you’re stranded alone with a very attractive, very threatening looking college student. 

who is also—uh, very, very naked.

“um, hi–”

“why do you have a key to my fucking dorm?”

oh, shit.

they are, frankly, gorgeous – like, one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. their hair is black, mussed, and you can’t help the way your gaze follows its way down the threshold of an.. extremely muscled, slick torso before snapping upwards to find a mildly paralysing glare that reminds yourself that you are not in a very good position right now.

“i’m uh- your new.. roommate?'' you don't mean for it to come out like a question, but by the way they're staring down at you like you're a cockroach that just flew onto their windshield, you almost aren't so sure.

"i'm a fucking TA— i don't have roommates." their eyes narrow, which is like—alright, way to be real welcoming.

“i’m a.. last minute transfer..?” you offer, wincing as you meet their stare. their eyes are unflinching, yet still lidded in a post-sex haze. you can feel your body involuntarily holding its breath; though from the steel in their gaze or the way their biceps flex when they run a hand through their dishevelled locks, you can’t tell. 

fuck, you hate hot people.

“oh, yeah. fuck, i forgot about that.” their shoulders slacken, mouth settling into an unimpressed line; which is only slightly more welcoming than the look of murderous intent of two seconds ago. “jordan. jordan li." they say, last name and all—which is how you know they're a prick. "make yourself at home, i guess.” they don’t sound all too enthused as they skirt away from the door, seemingly satisfied with the fact that you're not a home invader—dorm invader? whatever. you just pray that the sigh of relief you breathe isn’t audible.

“great! nice to meet you, i’m–”

“s’on the sheet." jordan cuts in with supreme disinterest as they move across the room, leaning down to pick their boxers from the floor. you’re struck once again with the realisation that they are still fucking naked, and you pointedly tear your eyes away. 

“um, yeah.. hey, uh—what’s your-”

“third year, crime-fighting. don't touch my shit. no pets, obviously. if you have a dog, get rid of it. give it to the animal shelter, don’t care. don’t snoop, don't make a mess, and definitely don’t take off the goddamn do not disturb sign. got it?”

you've barely opened your mouth to reply; probably with something along the lines of what the fuck? or animal shelter? before jordan's already turned away, back muscles flexing as they sink back onto the end of their bed, scrunching their briefs up in one hand and—

“hey, uh,” jordan interjects, turning round with an unreadable expression as they glance down, and like a fucking idiot, you follow; giving you front row seat to the massive, throbbing boner that they’re still sporting—pulsing an angry, flushed red as the tip drools with precum.

“mind if i take care of this? couldn’t exactly finish, if you know what i—”

you slam the door after you, and you swear a snicker follows you down the corridor. 

-

over the next week, it quickly becomes apparent that jordan either a): forgets you live in the same room as them, or b): simply does not care. 

for starters, there’s their apparent aversion to doing laundry until their entire closet is out of commission, the coke stash underneath their mattress and also—oh. their need to get their dick wet at least four times a day. (irrespective of whether they have a dick or not).

“what?” jordan scoffs through a mouthful of cereal. “‘m not lettin’ some fuckin’ freshie cockblock me.”

“i’m a transfer, not a fucking freshman.” you scowl, and jordan’s lips curl to form a lazy little ‘o’. it twitches upwards into that infuriating little smirk, like they enjoy seeing you squirm. 

“whatever. my libido stops for nobody, not even you. besides,” they set their bowl on the bedside table, wagging their fingers suggestively into a ‘V’ shape and licking the air between. "a bigender supe has needs too."

they’re slouching against their headboard, free arm stretching lazily above their head. your cheeks flush traitorously as their biceps flex—muscles visibly popping against their frame “you can just say 'a girl has needs'. i'm not an idiot, i know what you mean." is what you grumble back, if only to ignore the inane, stupid heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

"but i have needs when i'm a dude, too." jordan grins, propping themselves up by their elbow, eyes gleaming impishly as they curl their hand into a fist and making a fucking wanking motion over their (currently) non-existent dick. which is—yeah. that pretty much sums up your roommate for you.

the thing is about jordan, is despite all their excessive lockerroom talk and relatively abrasive personality; they’re still rank two in all of godolkin. ergo, they’re a surprisingly busy person; being preoccupied with either studying, sparring or partying ninety of the time. 

thus, like all horny, single college students, when you don’t have time to squeeze a good fuck in, you’re left with second-best option—yourself. this would otherwise be fine, except jordan’s compound v must have seeped through their bloodstream and into their libido because jesus fucking christ are they horny.

it’s not like they make an effort of hiding it, either. they seem to have zero qualms about rolling out of bed, morning wood popping out from their briefs like a fucking beacon. 

“oh, shit,” jordan yawns when slide the covers off, giving way to the immense boner throbbing against their boxer-briefs. they don’t even have the decency to look sheepish when they walk past you, adjusting themselves lazily. you don’t miss the grunt of relief that escapes them as their hand palms their crotch before they disappear into the bathroom, either. or the little groans of relief that sound behind the door before they saunter out, towelling their hands with the stupidest grin on their face.

it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does, except for the fact that even when jordan rouses without morning wood (or wood in general); they end up making their usual bathroom trip anyways. noises slipping from a half-ajar door and toilet lid left slippery, as always. 

they have to be doing it on purpose. they have to be. like, they left their strap-on on your desk once. which, first of all, gross. second of all, why was it so fucking big?

“jordan!” you holler, aghast as you nudge the thing on your desk, conveniently placed right next to your laptop.

“oh! that’s where i left it. sick.” jordan grins as they saunter over, veined hands reaching over to wrap around the shiny, plastic length and fuck, since when were their palms so massive—

“thanks, roomie.” they ruffle your hair with an impish glint in their eyes, smile only growing when you jerk away with a scowl. 

and that’s not even the worst of it.

“oh, shit—was that yours?” to their credit, jordan looks somewhat sheepish as they pinch a rock-hard pair of socks off the floor. your fucking socks, which have clearly been well-loved and cared for in places other than your shoes. 

“those were my favourite!” they weren’t your favourites. they’re socks. however, it makes jordan wince, which almost makes it worth it. 

hey, a little remorse is better than nothing. 

“..i’ll buy you a new pair?” jordan offers, scratching the nape of their neck. you’re almost content to let the awkwardness linger just give them just a piece of the torture you’ve been subjected to for the past several weeks — except the sliver of satisfaction is completely negated by the way jordan’s lip twitches upwards, like they’re fighting back a smirk.

“you little fuck—“

anyways, the point is jordan wanks. a lot. 

you can’t stop thinking about it. because it’s annoying. and disrespectful. and god, do they think you want to hear every pretty little moan that falls from their mouth? every grunt and groan that slips from their throat in that raspy, godforsaken timber— 

long story short; if you have to find a wadded up sock or sticky residue at the bottom of the computer desk one more time, you’re going to lose it. 

you think jordan knows it, too.

-

it’s midnight when you wake up to the sound of a bed creaking.

you’re an early sleeper, jordan isn’t. it works. you’re typically long knocked out before they even make it back in the dorm, out there doing god knows what. today, though, you’d far overestimated your ability to finish your latest assignment; so when jordan finally staggered through the door, slumping into bed with a little grunt, you thought nothing of it.

minutes pass, and the bed shifts. jordan groans. under the moonlight you can see the shadowed visage of their figure, splayed out on their bed with one hand underneath the covers; moving, repeatedly.

jordan grunts again, and you squint; bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness. the muffled, wet sound of slapping resounds, subdued by the weight of the blanket. if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were—

“mm, fuck—” jordan moans, blanket slipping down their hips and—oh my fucking god.

like pulling back a curtain, jordan’s cock springs enthusiastically to the surface; standing tall and proud as their fist pumps up and down the thick, veined girth of their length. it’s practically pulsating with need, bordering on desperate—they must be desperate, because jordan’s shameless, sure, but.. jacking off in the same room as you? 

you didn’t think they were that much of a fucking perv.

but maybe you’re a perv too, because the moment jordan’s hips rock upwards and their tip glimmers in a thick sheen of pre-cum; you can feel the telltale surge of heat in your stomach, the fabric of your panties dampening and oh, this can’t seriously be happening right now.

“fuck—motherfucker..” jordan hisses, drawing your bleary-eyed gaze from the flushed, throbbing bob of their cock to their pink cheeks and fucked-out face, mouth lolling in pleasure. they twist their head, nosing into something tossed onto their pillow that makes you stop in their tracks.

that’s.. you thought you lost that!

“need ‘m—so—fucking bad..” jordan slurs stiltedly, nuzzling into your shirt like their life depends on it. “fuckin’—stupid fucking—”

your stomach tightens, and you can’t help it when your fingers dip down under your shorts, slipping into your cunt. you should be mad, should be disgusted, should be shoving open the door and ripping them out of their covers and.. wrapping your mouth around their adorably flushed tip? seizing their hips and yanking their cock into your tight, wet little—

"oh, fuck," jordan interrupts your thought process by growling through their teeth, precum spilling from the slit of their dick and glazing their palms. there’s so much of it, so wet that even in the dark you can see the stain pooling in their sweatpants, their bedsheets. 

you’re so entranced you barely even register when it when their grip releases; length arcing and splattering thick ropes of cum against their abdomen. the sight is so mesmerising that you almost don’t pick up on the sound of your fucking name that tears out of their throat—husky and half gargled as jordan’s chest heaves. you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until jordan’s figure simply lays there, pants echoing in the silent room. 

they wrap your shirt around their dick and wipe it clean. it’s only when they murmur something unintelligible—burying their nose back into your jumper that you finally, finally turn away, fingers curling deep inside your cunt.

fucking hell.

-

the second time it happens, you are wide, wide awake. which unfortunately means you have no excuse for the minutes seared into your memory and sticky residue on your thighs.

granted, at first you didn’t know. as always, the bathroom door hangs carelessly agape. steam curls from the room, wafting up and dispersing in the stuffy dorm air. what lingers, however, is the fresh note of jordan’s shampoo, body wash, and something.. saltier, headier.

whatever. with nothing more than an arched brow, you pick over the discarded basketball shorts and tank tops that litter the floor, intending to kick the bathroom door shut and be on your way. it’s when your hand reaches out, closing around the cool metal that you see it.

jordan’s slumped against the slick shower wall, fingers buried knuckle-deep into their pussy.

oh, shit shit shit—

“shit..” jordan hisses, muscles working like well-oiled sprigs as they pump into their cunt, droplets of water trickling down their skin and pooling into the divots of their body. 

your hand tightens around the doorknob. god, their moans.. if they think the sound of the showerhead can disguise the filthy nothings spilling out of their mouth, they are very, very wrong. 

somewhere between the fuck’s and annoying’s and pretty fuckin’ prude’s their full-weight crumples against the shower wall, plush ass pressing up against steaming glass like some (high-quality) porn ad as they ram their fingers in one last time, free hand shooting out wildly to grasp at nothing before the shower wall splatters with something you only catch a glimpse of before you’re slamming the bathroom door, cheeks burning and fingers trembling. with a start, you realise you’ve almost wrenched the goddamn metal off.

the doorknob is always a little bit loose, after that. 

-

you’re getting ready for a party.

well, you’re supposed to be getting ready for a  party, hence the sultry eyeshadow, glossy press of your lips and sheer amount of skin laid bare. your crop-top is just a little bit too high, mini-skirt more than a little too short.

in reality? you’re enacting your fucking vegeance.

jordan likes you. it’s a fact that stares you right in the face. and if not a crush, it’s a massive, raging hard-on. for you—only you—citing a certain roommate’s post-nut ramblings you’ve heard one too many times. 

as it turns out, jordan becomes considerably less insufferable when you know you’re the only thing that gets their dick wet.

“how do i look?” you call, doing a little twirl. it’s impossible to keep the smirk off your face, skirt flipping very purposely upwards as you spin, revealing a tad more than they ever (usually) get to see. 

jordan glances up, and their breath fucking hitches.

bingo.

“what?” you cock your head, lashes batting innocuously as they stare. playing the oblivious role is just too sweet, especially when your eyes flicker down, just for a moment, and you can see the bulge in their sweatpants growing.

poor little jordan, hard because their roommate flashed a millisecond of ass.

“you look—good.” they grunt, tone carefully measured. their gaze lingers, only for another moment before they abruptly snap their vision back to their screen. an admirable effort, really. if only their cheeks were a little less red, cock a little less needy.

“well don’t flatter me too much,” you twist away, lips twitching upwards. feigning normalcy is easy, seeing as how you’ve been doing so ever since that first night. you're practically buzzing with anticipation when you make a big show of leaving the room, snarky comment and all.

and really, jordan could've waited for longer than two minutes before moaning that raspy, broken moan (you're so intimately familiar with) from behind the door.

your lips split into a grin, and when you slide the door back open, the look on jordan's face is so priceless you hope it'll be seared into your memory forever.

“shit!"

it’s undeniable, this time. you’re no longer a fly on the wall, and they’re no longer blanketed by the illusion of secrecy; caught red-handed with their cock in their fist and head on your pillow.

“wait—fuck—i can expl—!”

like clockwork, jordan's cock twitches as if in reaction, and a drop of fresh semen spurts from their tip before trickling down to join the messy puddle on their stomach. 

“i thought—fuck! you said you were going!” 

“that doesn’t sound like an apology to me.” 

you delight in the way jordan flushes, their breath hitching. they take a ragged breath before they make a valiant attempt to cover up their falter with aggression. "doesn't mean anything," they retort through gritted teeth, mustering up as much conviction as they can. 

it’s adorable, how much they pretend they don’t want you as if they don’t jack off to the smell of your sweatshirt every night. 

“shut the fuck up.” you roll your eyes, novelty of the movement finally wearing thin. you have needs too—and with a fluid movement, you slide onto the bed and yank their hips against yours, pulling them into a straddle over your torso.

jordan can't help but hiss at the sudden contact, hips jerking instinctively. "fuck, you're cold," they mutter under their breath, though there's no denying the thrill running through them; hips bucking forward into the touch of your cool fingers as they wrap around their hard member. it feels euphoric—the contrast between your heat and coldness heightening every single nerve ending in their body. the tip of their cockhead brushing against your belly button, dripping a thin line of hot, sticky fluid after it.

“go on.” you coo, eyebrows raised. 

jorda’s hands fly almost immediately to the hem of your skirt. so eager, like an impatient puppy. 

 before you curl your hand around their wrist, grip firm and punishing. 

they freeze, head cocking like a confused puppy. “huh?” they say, biting back a noise of complaint. they want you so bad its goddamn gruelling; their fingers twitching around nothing, screaming in impatience, let me fuck you, let me ruin you already. don’t you know how long i’ve been waiting? how long you’ve kept me fucking waiting?

of course you know. they don’t know that, though. 

“you’re not gonna do anything?” despite all their irritating, fratboy-esque bravado; jordan’s unable to prevent the whininess from seeping into their tone, hands tugging insistently at the hem of your skirt. their cock pulses, painful and needy.

“you have hands, don’t you?” your lips quirk at the way jordan’s expression drops and their mouth opens again, probably to protest until you yank their thighs open and press them forward, dick pressing flush against your torso. 

"unnhnnngh.." jordan grunts, gasping for air while trying to maintain eye contact with you—an impossible task considering how goddamn desperate they are. their free hand grabs hold of your waist, grinding sloppily as precum spurts all over your chest. “f-fuck off," they hiss, lips crashing against yours, teeth knocking at their eagerness.

“goddamn tease—” they groan, rutting against your torso, to no avail. they bury their face into your collar, utterly miserable, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. “just get the fuck on with it—ahnnn.. f-fuck—”

“so mouthy,” you tease, delighted at the mewl that slips past jordan’s lips when your hand wraps around their tip. their chain necklace swings wildly, bucking their hips desperately into your fist.

“hands feel so fuckin’ good,” jordan sputters, drooling almost as much as their dick is. their fumbling grasp finds purchase in your shoulders as they pump themselves into your hand; you barely even have to move, with them doing most of the work.

“need to be— inside—“ jordan grunts; glassy eyes blinking down at you like it’ll change your mind just like that. it’s cute, how they look when they’re not scowling or fucking smirking at you. it’s even cuter, the way they inhale sharply when you shake your head and deliver a cool “no, baby,” their back arching when you cup one of their balls and squeeze, forced into dismal acceptance with a keening whine. 

jordan’s movements are getting unsteady, now. eyes glazing over by the second. “y’gonna make me cum,” they slur, grip on your hips tightening. it only takes a moment before their movements stutter and they’re muttering “fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck!“ and a long, gargled moan rips from their throat and all of a sudden hands wrapped around cock are sinking in wet, sloppy heat; your fingers sliding knuckle-deep into their pussy with almost breath-taking ease.

“jesus christ!” jordan croons in sheer, unexpected pleasure as they feel you shove yourself inside them, cum spurting and squeezing out helplessly from between their walls and your fingers. they squirt so fucking messily, their leaking cock replaced by a cunt spilling out out all over your palm. 

“i didn’t—didn’t mean to—” they slur, panic two steps behind their mouth. struggling to sling anything coherent together with you kneading your fingers into their pussy like its goddamn putty. “oh?” you arch a brow, and jordan visibly flushes, moaning openly when your digits curl.

“can’t–don’t really—”

“what? fuck yourself?” is your reply, because you both know they fucking do; it’s not like you don’t how their pussy sounds when it’s sliding slick against their pillow, how your name sounds cried out, thick through the muzzle of your jumper.

it’s a dual guilty pleasure—you watch, they do. at this point, you can’t tell who’s the more perverted out of the two of you.

jordan. definitely jordan. 

“too busy humping my clothes, is that it?” you purr, and jordan honest to god whimpers, squirming away from your fingers both out of overstimulation and plaintive shame. “ah, ah,” you tut, nails digging into their hips as you hold them in place, finger thumbing harshly against their clit as they cry out a gargled moan. 

“f-fuck off—” jordan hisses, practically an admission of guilt itself. they seem to know it, too, with the way they abandon all pretence and pound violently against your knuckles—their gaze burning into yours like they’re daring you to say another word. “don’t act like you didn’t—shit—fucking like it.” jordan gasps out between sputters, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“hm?” you pause, eyes meeting jordan’s heated, quivering stare. “jerk off to watching me?” they choke, eyes glossing over when you thrust “did you fuck yourself to my—mmhnn—!” 

an easy, all-too-familiar eye roll graces your face before you shut them up with your fingers. their pussy clenches; hot, slippery walls gripping your digits as if afraid to let go. oh, this is too easy.

“don’t get cute with me, roomie.” the nickname tastes sweet on your tongue, and jordan’s face grows hotter. a well-timed thumb to their clit flickers their bravado out like a light. “fucking hell!” they gasp, mouth gaping into a moan and eyes rolling back into their skull.

“you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” you coo, and jordan squirms; mouth open in protest—or at least attempts at them, what with the way they keep gasping out in pleasure as you roll your fingers against their clit. 

“shut the fuck—i didn’t—”

“a pervert and a liar now, are we?”

jordan makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a whine, crying out when you slide two more fingers into the slick canal of their core. their eyes screw shut, hands seizing so wildly into the mattress you almost think they’re about to tear a hole through the bedsheets.

“god! fuck—i can’t—”

they cry out your name when they cum, and even if its a sound you’ve heard countless times by now you don’t think it’ll ever get old. “that’s it, baby.” you coo, lips curling upwards at the way they bury their face into your collar.

they lie there, panting, for what feels like forever before a muffled, half-delusional groan leaves their lips.

“oh, fuuuckk..”

“what?”

“..i thought i would top.”

[fangirlsidebloghoe]

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (COMPLETED)

Summary: Part of a band of travelers, your party is slowly picked off one by one, until there are only two of you left. Finding an abandoned cabin in the woods, you decide to make camp there until you figure out your next move. As the seasons change, the nights get longer and longer…

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

One Shot: The Future

[fangirlsidebloghoe]

When it suddenly crashes on you that it is real and not just a nightmare, and the dam of tears breaks 💔

[fangirlsidebloghoe]

On This Day In History

October 16th, 2024: English singer and former One Direction member Liam Payne dies.

[fangirlsidebloghoe]