#૮ smut🔞

[yameoto]

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.”

#(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! #૮ smut🔞 #inbox ! #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li fanfic #jordan li headcanons #jordan li smut #gen v #gen v smut #gen v x reader #gen v fanfic #gen v headcanons

[yameoto]

NEW BOT ALERT! — new ex babysitter!sam carpenter bot for uh. health and wealth purposes. the concept was inspired by this excellent oneshot that drives me apeshit wild.

(ex) babysitter!sam headcanons.. because i’m doin those, now. expect a lot more to come.

✗ warnings ; large age gap (sam 26, reader 18-19), nsfw at bottom. dom/sub.

an absolute sucker for you. like when you were little and you wanted something— like an extra helping of dessert or to ditch out on homework: all you had to do was pout and blink up at her with those big, pleading doe eyes and she'd cave immediately. two seconds flat, easy. now? that still hasn't changed. you have her wrapped around your finger with a single look and it drives her crazy.

would spoil you to PIECES. ofc when u she used to babysit you she would pay for everything, but even now that you're a grown adult with an (albeit low-paying) part-time job, she'd find any excuse to spoil you. just.. coming home with random gifts at any point of the week. like it could be 4pm on a thurday afternoon and she could come up behind you like "baby, you know those headphones you really wanted..? well.."

or jst going out shopping with her and you wouldnt even have to ask for her to pay because she'd be striding to the counter with her card out, already.

definitely calling you "princess". i mean, that's what you are, right? you always have been, always will.

makes her knees weak when you call her "sammy" . you'd exclusively call her it when you were a kid and despite all efforts to prevent this, now, still makes her chest collapse when you say it. and when u add the cheeky little conjunction my, in front of it? oh, boy. just know you're getting more than a good night's kiss, tonight.

she loves it when you whine or beg her for anything. like.. loves.

she just likes taking care of you in general, so anytime you go to her for anything it makes her happy which is kind of fucking adorable. but she finds you coming to her for help adorable, too, so.. win-win?

can never stay mad at you. even on days where u make it your life's mission to annoy her (its your job to keep her on her toes!) she legitimately just.. can't — and believe her, she's tried. stuck in a perpetual state of mild exasperation.

veryyy protective nd possessive . but in more subtle manners like very adamantly refusing to let you walk on the side of pavement next to the road. or always having either an arm wound around your waist or your shoulders or interlocking your fingers — anything that keeps you safe and snug by her side. she’s just so used to the feeling of protecting u and she kinda just never wants it to stop.

..nsfw!

uses the fact she used to babysit you for EVIL. in stupid ways like smirking and asking if you want her to "tuck you in" before bed, except she's straddling your chest and gently prising your mouth open with her thumb and 'tucking you in' means 'choking on her cock'.

obsessed with bouncing you on her lap. u guys cld be doing something completely innocent, like watching tv with the whole gang in the room and she'll pull u onto her lap and slowly start to rock you on her thigh, like how u used to when u were a kid. except this time, you're both grown up and her knee's sliding upwards and pressing against your cunt and oh. whispering "shh," in your ear as she continues to grind her knee up your skirt, fucking purring at all the pretty little noises you make.

actively enjoys punishing you when you get too bratty. she finds your whines adorable, of course, but if she's feeling too grouchy she's not above replacing those complaints in your mouth with you know — something more substantial.

adores praising you and calling you endearments during sex. calling you a sweet little thing and whispering soft, reverential promises into your ear as she absolutely ruins you.

cups your jaw and forces you to look at her when you suck her off. utterly obsessed with that wide, glazed-over look in your eyes whenever you're on your knees for her. the way your adorable little puppy eyes go all glassy nd sparkly w tears when she rams her hips forward and makes you sputter. cradling the back of your head and holding you there as she thrusts, cooing sweet nothings while she bruises the back of her your throat.

#yam's favs #(╯°^°)╯head💣canons #૮ smut🔞 #bot—requests #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter headcanons #sam carpenter #sam carpenter bot #scream

[yameoto]

Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?

FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.

✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k

THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.

the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.

(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)

but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.

"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.

"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.

"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.

"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.

"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.

"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.

unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.

a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.

"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.

"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.

jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—

"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."

as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.

"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"

any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.

jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.

the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.

"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.

well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.

#(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! #૮ smut🔞 #inbox ! #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li fanfic #jordan li headcanons #jordan li smut #gen v #gen v smut #gen v x reader #gen v fanfic #gen v headcanons

[yameoto]

TOP TEN BENEFITS. JORDAN, CATE, ANDRE.

synopsis ; you and godolkin's finest go out for some fun, just like any other night. little do you know, is that they have a little more in store for you than just partying.

oh. also, you're luke's girlfriend—not like that's going to stop them.

✗ warnings ; dark!jordan, dark!cate, dark!andre, cnc, dubcon, intox, foursome, cheating, strap-fucking. wc ; 1.9k

DISTANTLY, you can hear voices. you're not sure, really; your head's all dizzy and groggy, and your mouth is so dry you wonder if you’ve been chewing on cement. god.. you really can’t remember anything. how strong were those drinks?

"we sure about this, guys?" comes a voice, echoing on the outskirts of your mind. it's familiar. masculine.. or feminine? you really can't tell—not in this state, at least.

"of course we're sure." someone else interjects, gruffer, this time, clearly masculine. it sounds a lot like.. andre..?

"i mean, look at her," whispers another, voices so low—like they're trying not to wake you. this one's higher, more feminine and— oh that's definitely cate. "how could we not?"

how could they not what? nothing makes sense—not in your foggy, hungover brain at least; one that you're becoming increasingly suspicious is addled by something stronger than shots. but that can't be right—you hadn't blown lines with the others, had you? no, you definitely hadn't. so why does your head hurt so fucking much?

"guys..?" you mumble, trying to sit up on what you distantly realise is a bed, the edges of your vision still blurry. as it adjusts, you're met with the sight of jordan, andre and cate all standing over you, eyes strangely lidded, gleaming. "shit— she's up," jordan hisses, grip on your thigh tightening, and its then that you realise your skirt is gone—the entire stretch of your legs exposed to the three of them.

"fuck," cate sighs, lips drawing into a pout as you feel her hand, bare hand, hover over your other thigh, head jerking up to face the others with a frown on her lips. "should i do it again?"

"no," jordan and andre hiss in unison, exchanging a meaningful look as their fingers twitch, restless. "c'mon, you know you want her awake for this."

"awake for what?" you grumble, head throbbing far too much for you to wrap your head around the conversation. "i'm too hungover for this." you swing your legs off the edge of the bed, reaching for your discarded skirt before two pairs of her hands shoot out to stop you. your vision swims, and with a disconcerting lurch you realise you're so fucked-up you can't even tell whose is who's.

"you won't need that." jordan mutters, breath hot against your cheek as they curl their hand around your wrist, dragging it firmly into their lap. what the fuck?

"sorry about the skirt," cate hums affirmatively, eyes drifting to the poor, ripped thing on the floor and you swear you see the beginnings of a smirk curl her lips "someone got a little excited."

"hey—" andre puts his hands up, not looking too sorry at all. in fact, he looks like he's barely restraining a grin. "don't act like you two weren't drooling—"

"touché." jordan interjects, eyes rolling yet looking entirely too pleased with themselves as they play with your hand in their lap, inching it up their own thigh. “you look better without it, doll.”

"warm her up, jordan." cate's eyes flash, gaze boring into the sight of you, splayed against the pillows, and you resist the urge to whimper.

"don't tell me what to do," jordan grumbles, but there's a grin stretching at their lips and you almost wonder if cate used her powers with the speed in which they comply. their loose grip on your wrist becomes inordinately tight as they deftly undo their belt, dragging their pants and boxers down in one, swift move.

oh, fuck.

"hold on— i—" you splutter, stupidly, glancing between the three of them and jordan's throbbing, leaking cock. it gently bobs into your hand; head pink, glistening with pre-cum and you just want to—wait, what?

you're dating luke. you're dating luke. a spike of panic sends you twisting, surprisingly lucid for a moment as you attempt tugging your wrists away—to no avail, of course. top ten ranking aside; you don't stand a chance against three supes, especially not the three of them.

"hey— shh." jordan catches you, eyes flashing for a moment as they slowly, ever so slowly, guide your hand back to their cock—grunting when your fingers limply wrap around their tip. "fuck, that's it.." they groan, head tilting back. jesus fucking christ.

you don't even realise it when andre drags your panties down your thighs—and your flush only deepens at how fucking wet you are. that has to be the high, right? there's no way—why else would your cunt be dripping into the goddamn sheets, like that? for three of your friends? boyfriend absent from the room, no less. a feeble, embarrassed whine falls from your lips, as three hungry pairs of eyes have no shame in hiding how much they want to fucking devour you.

"look at you, so fucking wet." ande’s voice comes a deep rumble, belt unbuckling with a click as he inches closer. his hands slide over your thighs as he moves over, all the way, and you make another strained noise as his cock hits your belly.

"i think it's cute." cate hums, eyes glimmering as she leans across the bedspread, hands wrapping around the base of andre's eager, bobbing cock and directing it towards your splayed legs. andre’s basically fucking trembling with restless need, cate’s own breaths shallowing, picking up the pace. "luke ever get you this wet?"

your teeth tuck into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut because god, luke.. what the hell are you doing here? it feels like betrayal. it is betrayal—they need to stop—this is wrong—

you whine, making a choking noise as jordan’s grasp on your wrist steels enough to snap bone. you want to say; luke—? yes—he fucking has—i think—but you find you barely have the strength to moan, let alone protest.

“nah, i don’t think so.” jordan smirks, smug, as if they know exactly what’s going through your head as their hand guides yours; forcibly pumping your hand along their length. their frustrated growls of pleasure are enough to make you blush—let alone the feeling of andre’s hands roughly shoving your legs apart, spreading your folds open with two of his fingers. you whine, quivering, glazed pupils meeting his.

"fuck, luke's gonna kill us—" andre grunts once he finally rams into you, audibly groaning as you slam into the blankets with each thrust, inciting the most strangled little cries from your throat. it’s so much—you can’t help but thrash a little, under his touch. cate lets out a displeased hum, though at his words or his roughness you can't tell.

"what luke won't know won't hurt him." jordan counters from the other side of you, lips twisting into a grin as they bite into your shoulder, still moving your hands in thrusts along their length.

they keep shifting—each time you're distracted by cate or andre the feeling of their cock twitching under your hands changes to fingers sinking into sloppy, wet heat. it's ridiculous how hot it makes you, just jacking them off—but it’s not like you have any room to comment with andre thrusting into you like an animal, snarls coming out of his mouth as each movement sends you reeling with white-hot, carnal pleasure.

"move, you brute." cate interrupts, voice cutting through the blinding, purely instinctual pleasure of andre pumping you full like a rutting dog. her eyes glitter with an annoyance that give way to barely-restrained lust, and in your sex-drugs-cate induced haze (you're still not quite sure which it is, yet), you faintly register the plastic in her hand; long, thick, pink and fuck— is that a strap?

"not yet, cate, i'm almost done—" andre cuts himself with a guttural, bestial moan as his cock rams into you, again. you can feel it twitching inside of you; hear his breaths growing shallower as he grips your hips, so tight they might bruise. "oh, fuck—!" he groans loudly as he comes, thick, hot seed filling you up, hips still thrusting as he crams as much of his load into you as he possibly can. it takes a beat before he reluctantly pulls out, chest heaving.

"fuck, you felt so good," he groans, hands clumsily tugging you forward for a kiss before he's promptly pushed off before your lips can touch. "about fucking time." cate grunts, voice sharp, weight of andre on top of you replaced by two long, toned legs swinging on either side of your body, cate's hands running over that fucking strap at her hips. her lips curl into a smirk as your eyes—still glassy from andre's force—blink blearily up at her. you’re still so dazed, so adorable. she leans down to cup your chin. "you're such a pretty little thing," she murmurs, thumb brushing against your bottom lip, gaze darkening as she begins to prise your mouth open, gleam in her eyes giving away to sheer, unadulterated lust.

"open wide." she whispers, and that's the only pre-empt you get before you're choking on silicone, her hips bucking forward as she shoves herself into your mouth. her hands tighten in your hair, jerking you forward so that the entire length forces itself down your throat. tears spring to your eyes. you feel jordon's hands getting rougher as they use you to fuck themselves, teeth digging into your skin to muffle their own whines while your own, keening “mmfs—!” peter out to soft, quiet whimpers.

"you're so good for us," jordan moans, burying your fingers hilt-deep into their cunt, walls pulsing desperately around you. "so fucking good," cate assents with a breathy, pleasured groan of her own, back snapping as if it were her own cock that you’re gagging around. from behind her, andre’s hands are wrapped around himself, moving furiously as he arches over the bed. “you have no idea how long we’ve wanted this.” he hisses, one hand madly jerking himself off to the sight of cate fucking your face like she owns you, the other tangling in your hair. cate audibly moans, bucking into you further with a sharp inhale. "wish i could come in you for real." she mumbles, fingers running along your jaw as you splutter around plastic. she smiles, tilts her head up to look at jordon as they mutter something unintelligible, her thrusts increasing in pace, fucking your throat so raw, so good. "jordan's got something special to give you." she murmurs, voice honey sweet, hand dancing up your cheek.

you can hardly gargle a response through the strap in your mouth—but you don't have to. not when, with a resounding moan, all questions are answered with jordan promptly shooting their load all over your face, thick, hot strings of cum leaking around the edges of the strap and seeping into your mouth. they both groan, jordan slumping into your side with soft, intermittent pants.

"god.." they mutter into the crook of your neck, cate's thrusts slowing as she starts to loosen her grip on your hair; though not stopping, never stopping. "you're ours." jordan grunts, gripping your thigh with sudden, overwhelming intensity while cate continues jerking the strap down your throat, smile tugging at her lips. “ours." she echoes, voice soft—almost gentle if you didn’t know any better. she leans down, hand stretching out; smearing jordan's cum across your cheek in one, long, clean swipe. "fucking ours."

poor, poor luke.

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[yameoto]

Can you do smut with older Sid? Reader is about same age as Sam and Sid takes you to her house after the events of Scream 5. Rough sex with dom!Sid bc she makes me feel things-

DOM!SIDNEY SUB!READER. foreplay.

milf!sidney basically just foreplay.

✗ warnings ; age gap (sidney 42, reader 26). soft!dom/sub. rough, pet names, foreplay, endearments, copious mentions of heartbeats, for some reason. unbeta-read

“sweetheart,” sidney hums, brow raising. “you’re not still scared, are you?” 

you remember reading somewhere that humans have the innate tendency to self-sabotage. that must be the explanation as to why your heart is hammering so fucking loud—for reasons that have less to do with the serial murders you witnessed tonight and much more to do with the way sidney’s hand is trailing up your thigh.

“um—i— not really,” you croak, praying that she’ll attribute the fumble to your high-strung, adrenaline-wired brain. pity, then, that she simply smiles knowingly, eyes glimmering with far too much amusement for her not to know how wet your cunt is.

“mhm,” sidney leans forwards to cup your jaw, thumb running along your cheek. it’s ridiculous— straight up embarrassing how the action is enough for you to squeeze your thighs shut, breath hitching. “i didn’t think you were.” sidney says, gleam in her eyes sharpening, and that’s the only warning you get before you’re shoved back into the headboard, lips crashing against yours and— god, you really couldn’t help the whimper that fell out of your mouth, could you?

you feel sidney's lips tug into a smirk as you melt underneath her, your little gasps so sweet against her mouth as you let her wandering, forceful grasps shape and mould as you as she pleases. “oh, you’re adorable.” sidney mutters as her hand slides up your shirt, groping up your skin– nails digging and pressing with rough, purposeful languidness before she pauses—hand slotted in-between your breasts. 

you let out a little whine of complaint, hands tugging at the hem of her clothes because why’d you stop don't stop i need you i need to all over until sidney’s smirk curls into a sharp grin, your traitorous heart stuttering and slamming underneath her fingers. she trails over it, in sheer delight; almost awe. 

“poor darling,” she purrs, as if its just dawning on her how much you want her before promptly seizing you by the waist and ripping your shirt off—kissing down the bare, naked stretch of your skin in a fervent, heated fervour. “you’re safe with me, love,” she says as she cups your breasts and shoves herself between your tits, tongue dragging against the thrum of your heartbeat and god, how is it still so fucking loud?

“nobody can hurt you, here” sidney coos under the veil of reassurance, knowing damn well that’s not the reason why your body is trembling and squirming so much under her. her grasp tightens around your tit, squeezing hard as she continues with her teasing. “nobody can touch you.” she adds in a low purr, fingers twisting around your nipple. you cry out, legs snapping closed instinctively, and sidney tuts, tightening the hold of her fingers as one hand traces over your cheek. “what’d i just say?” she scolds, eyes flashing steelily. “i said nobody can touch you.” and she shoves her knee between your thighs—forcing them open. she grins at the keening whine that escapes you; the way you start to rut against it her, like a goddamned bitch in heat. 

“nobody, okay, sweetheart? not here—” sidney grunts, grinding her knee against your clothed cunt, pushing herself up even closer to you. you can't help the way you throw yourself forward, needily, pressing yourself flush against her with a little whine. she smiles, indulging you.

“or here,” she adds, hands coming away from your breasts to slam you against the bed—as if you’d want to go anywhere, anyways. you barely have time to mourn the loss before her fingers are replaced by her mouth, her tongue latching around your nipple and swirling, hot and wet and so fucking good. “oh, fuck—” you moan, squirming as she teases the buds between her teeth, hands still groping and squeezing and you’re practically begging her to just fuck you, already, the friction against her thigh far, far too little.

“sid— sid- please—” you gasp, stuttering over your words as sidney’s knee thrusts harshly against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure that pulse from the heat of your cunt and you moan, the short-lived relief not enough, never enough.

"and definitely not here." she murmurs, eyes glinting smugly as her fingers snap the band of your underwear, — before her knee slides down and she cups the line of your jaw, again, smile never wavering. "you're safe with me." she whispers, breath ghosting hot along your breast, before distantly you feel your panties being wrenched down your thighs and you can barely even open your mouth before five fingers are rammed inside of you—blinding and hot and full and stretching you till all you can think is sidney, sidney sidney sidney—

nobody can touch you, indeed.

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[yameoto]

( う-´)づ︻╦̵̵̿╤── NAVIGATION 💨

yam . . !? any/prns , writer & bot maker ! 18+ blog

read masterlist for all info & FAQ! i'm yam, a tumblr writer & bot maker on cai! i like bloody gorey women and.. bloody gorey hot women.

navigational links . . . masterlist 💥 botlist 💣favs

WRITING REQUESTS: closed! ⊹ ׂ. . ヮ . ｀੭ BOT REQUESTS: closed!

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[yameoto]

·︻┻═┳一ཧᜰ꙰ꦿ 💥 MASTERLIST

WRITING & BOT REQUESTS: FAQ AT BOTTOM.

what i will write: fem/gn reader, transmasc reader, cnc, dubcon, free use, most kinks, dark / sensitive themes or content. what i will NOT write: cis!male reader, incest, pedophilia, rpf.

FANDOMS (& botlist!)

▸ GEN V / THE BOYS

▸ YELLOWJACKETS

▸ SCREAM

others. — currently botting for: ▸ life is strange, mcu + ask!

SYMBOLS — index !

✧ au canon

✦ non au canon

✘ ex au

✲ fake dating au

☩ supernatural au

✄ cheating au

⚤ trans/nb au

★ multiple in one

HASHTAGS — index !

# yam’s navi all masterlists.

# yam’s favs favourite works.

# (っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! writing.

# (╯°^°)╯head💣canons headcanons.

# bot—requests bot request fulfilments.

# inbox ! inbox responses.

# .misc miscellaneous / random.

# ૮ smut🔞 nsfw content.

︻╦╤─ ҉ – – 💣⌇IMPORTANT . . 💥

KA-BOOM! ageless/blank blogs and minors DO NOT follow. - ,,

this blog is heavy on nsfw and contains dark / mature content. while i cant police you and frankly do not have the time too— minors, please leave this blog. and refrain from lying about your age ! it’s really truly for your own good. i know some of you are gonna ignore this, so if you do despite my best wishes; please take note of my tag index and avoid nsfw marked posts.

faq below..

︻ඞ/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿-- ҉ F A Q! . . 💥

HOW DO I DECIDE RQ PRIORITY?

i weigh request priority between time / demand. this means the more people who rq a certain character (with all needed info) the sooner those bots will come out. requests must contain CHARACTER, PLOT/AU, AGE (yellowjackets teen/adult), for me to consider them as actual 'requests'. bots not in my listed fandoms will take bottom priority and may not be accepted if i do not consume/know media.

HOW LONG DO BOT RQS TAKE?

bot requests take shorter than writing rqs. if a bot is taking longer than usual it is likely there are many requests for that character and i intend to release all related bots in one go. there is currently a large backlog of bot requests.

HOW LONG DO WRITING RQS TAKE?

unfortunately writing is subject to both my whims and my schedule. some rqs may be fulfilled within 48 hours, while others may never see the light of day. there is no system other than my brain neurons firing.

WILL YOU UPLOAD YOUR BOTS TO ANOTHER PLATFORM?

will eventually upload INTENDED NSFW BOTS on janitor llm (free version of janitor ai) ! i will be not uploading them to any other sites.

HOW DO YOU BREAK THE (CAI) NSFW FILTER?

refer to these posts! they (especially the comments to the latter) are very helpful in bypassing the filter and will come in handy if you want to.. take matters into your own hands.

#yam’s navi #yam's favs #navigation #masterlist #(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! #૮ smut🔞 #(╯°^°)╯head💣canons #bot—requests #inbox ! #.misc

[yameoto]

WAHHH i love ur bots so much!! (definitely not using 3 of them at the same time rn) apologies if i dont request this correctly, but can i get (teen) lottie x transmasc!reader where she uses her "antler queen" privileges to sleep with them? (basically cnc 🙈)

ANTLER QUEEN PRIVILEGES. LOTTIE MATTHEWS.

warnings ; dark!lottie, cnc, dubcon, imbalanced power dynamic, not proofread, kind of mean!girl precrash lottie coded

lottie's lips are on your neck.

"lottie— i don't think we should–" you're cut off by your own hiss at the sensation of teeth digging into your skin, and then your own, embarrassingly high-pitched squeak when you feel her brush over your nipple, fingers running over the pert nub with a smile you can feel against your skin.

"shh.." lottie murmurs, lips gliding up your neck as her hands slide to trace over your top surgery scars, her cold, cold touch against your skin making you shudder. "that doesn't matter." she murmurs, lips twisting into a muffled grin—like it amuses her you even thought you had a choice in the first place.

"it.. doesn't?" you question pitifully, stupidly— letting out an involuntary gasp when lottie hooks the hem of your boxers and yanks them down to your ankles. the moment your pussy is exposed to the bitter cold, you gasp; thighs squeezing shut in immediate, frantic alarm.

"of course not," lottie hums nonchalantly, like she's announcing that the sky is blue, or that the earth spins round. "you just need to please it." her hand wrests your quivering thighs apart, easily, tongue darting out to wet the bottom of her lips as she stares down at you, eyes so hooded you can barely tell what she's thinking—if she's thinking anything at all.

"just be a sweet boy and let me fuck you, will you?" lottie mutters after a moment, breathless as she nuzzles her nose against your skin. you feel as if the air's been sucked from your lungs, and you can't help but fumble over your words—your protests. "i dont— i'm not gonna—" you're trying to squirm away; but lottie is strong, stronger than you remember. her grasp on you tightens, and the sound she makes against your skin is downright predatory.

"you have to." lottie says, peering up at you from between your legs, eyes the darkest you've ever seen them. she makes a show of dragging her tongue up your inner thigh, and the pitiful whine you let out when it skims your folds makes your cheeks burn.

“you don’t want them to starve, do you?” lottie murmurs, voice low but so hoarse as her nails dig into your hips. you can barely restrain a whimper.

"n-no?" your eyes are just so wide, anxiousness so pertinent—she just can't help but want to eat you alive. satiating the wilderness—satiating lottie's thirst—it's the same, isn't it? it's the same.

you don't want her to starve, do you?

"good boy." lottie purrs, and you mewl at the sensation of four digits intruding you, burying themselves knuckle-deep inside your cunt in one, fluid motion. she doesn't even move them; her eyes fixed entirely on you; the way your throat bobs at the garbled moans you muffle, the way your nerves swirl so clear in your eyes, so anxious—it's adorable.

almost as adorable as the the tense, taut muscles of your body; how the walls of your pussy grip against her fingers, clenching and unclenching and clenching again. you want it. look at you—your cunt swallowing her so greedily. you want it as much as she—the wilderness, does.

the moment lottie's fingers start to shift, you squirm. panting as she spreads your pussy wide open, making a goddamn v-shape inside of you. "lottie—!" you cry out, head jerking back in sheer instinct as her fingers start to curl, and she hisses.

"shh," lottie's hand slams over your mouth, muffling your whines between her fingers. "the wilderness wants it, okay? it needs it." she pants, seemingly transfixed by the way her knuckles slide deeper and deeper into you, your back arching higher and higher off the mattress as your whines become muted whimpers—

this is wrong. this shouldn't be happening. it shouldn't—

you have to.

lottie releases a pleased hum as your furious squirming and whimpers descend into broken, shallow breathing and twitching fingers—though your body can't stop trembling, can't stop moaning no matter how much you try to stop it. she grins, wandering hand slipping underneath your top and sliding over your nipple, again, as she rubs her thumb harshly against your clit.

“don’t you dare fucking stop.” lottie grunts, fingers digging into your thighs as you let out a miserable, pleasured groan, slumping into the pillow as lottie's fingers stretch you open. you're reduced to a pour of slurred whimpers as she pumps in and out of you, ramming her knuckles in—fingers swirling and sliding up against your pulsing walls in forceful, pressing strokes. she can't stop staring; grin fixed on her lips as she watches your back snap—your frantic, teary cries as cum gushes out from your leaking cunt and squeezes between her digits. she croons as she slides out of you, the most obscene, wet, squelching noise resounding in the room as she does so. you whimper.

"oh, baby," she hums, eyes bright. her gaze flickers down at the state of her fingers, glistening in the moonlight, the evidence of your arousal, of your enjoyment. your brain is far too hazed to even process the fact she's calling you pet names—let alone the way she's gliding her wet, wet fingers along your lips, coated in your cum.

"open." she demands, and at your hesitance, she tilts her head, eyebrow raising "the wilderness says ah?" she grins, amusement gleaming in her gaze as you dazedly part your lips, barely even comprehending what's going on—letting her smear the taste of yourself along your tongue, your mouth, your chin.

'the wilderness says ah.' how ridiculous, how stupid. how easy.

she'll be sure to use that one next time she needs a good blow.

#inbox ! #(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! #૮ smut🔞 #lottie matthews #lottie matthews fanfic #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews smut #yellowjackets smut #yellowjackets

[yameoto]

Hey I was wondering if you could make Jackie Taylor x Reader smut? Dom Reader and sub Jackie?

DOM!READER SUB!JACKIE TAYLOR. edging.

✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jackie, edging, semi-public sex.

“shh, cutie. you don’t want coach to hear us, do you?” you hush into jackie's cunt, nails digging into her hips as you slide your tongue against her. long, languid strips — you're just teasing her. you don't even intend to get her off, today.

"n-no.." she mumbles, soft, strangled moan leaving her mouth as your tongue skims her folds. she's just so fucking wet ; warm, desperate, slickness coating your mouth, your chin. "f-fuck.." she whimpers, eyelashes fluttering helplessly. her thighs tremble—splayed so wide and open that you can't help but stop and admire the view. she's just so pretty that way ; displaying her soaking pussy for you, right there in the dim light of a janitor's closet, of all places. it's clear it's taking a toll out of her, nails desperately digging into your back as she arches against the cabinets for support. it's not enough to keep her legs from shaking, and she hisses as your tongue fucks into her just right and her elbow jolts out to knock a stray bottle off the shelf, her pupils dilating at the sound.

"quiet." you grunt, even though jackie's been such a good girl for you so far—but you can't help but be a little mean. not when she's trembling under you, so delicate and precious and inviting as you drag your sharp nail along her folds and she openly shudders, her little cut-off cry making you grin. that's all the encouragment you need before you start lapping at her, into her like your life depends on it, tongue surging and swirling as she bucks, her little "mmf—mmf—mmfs—!" breathy and frantic in the close confines of the closet.

just when she's getting used to the pace, legs sinking into your shoulder and hips rocking desperately against your face, eyes sparkling in agonising, excruciating silence—your lips wrap around her clit and you suck. a shaky, sharp whine rips out of jackie's throat ; loud — too loud. you grin when she quickly muffles it with her jacket sleeve, biting down to restrain her whimpers.

"ah-ah— too late, sweetheart." you tease, head tilting upwards as you slowly drag your tongue up, up, up and away—fingers brushing teasingly against her inner thighs. her eyes widen as she sees you drawing away, legs quaking under her.

"n-no— fuck— please! more. i need more—" jackie gasps, hips keening forwards needily. her big, teary bambi eyes blink up at you from behind her sleeve, a quiet whine leaving her throat. "please?" she mumbles, fingers tugging at your shirt.

you hush her, finger pressing to her quivering bottom lip. "you weren't good enough today, baby." you tease, cooing at the way her grip tightens on your sleeve. she stares at you in dismay as you slowly drag her skirt back up her legs. the slick on her thighs makes the fabric stick, and you smirk.

"maybe next time, baby," you murmur as you press a kiss to her cheek, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear. her chest is still heaving, fingers trembling as she tries to catch her breath. "but only if you're good." your eyes gleam, and she watches you go with a frustrated, shaky whimper. her back collapses against the wall—cunt left aching and sticky, throbbing between her legs.

oh, how cruel you are.

#(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works ! #૮ smut🔞 #inbox ! #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets smut #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor smut