#Blue Sucker Punch

[boredzillenial]

Double-Edged Desire

Blue’s noticed how good you’ve been and wants to reward you.

Themes: DEAD DOVE - DNE, Blue is his own warning, dub-con (power imbalance), f!reader, fingering, oral, biting, threat

Wordcount: 1.3k

The Lennox House is too loud, too dingy, and above all is the constant stench of fear. You can’t tell whether it’s mostly you or the other girls but fear permeates the very walls. You do your best to get the stench off your skin the first couple days of your stay. Showers were short and often cold, but the frigid water helped to keep you grounded. You could feel eyes on you but could never pinpoint where.

After your first week is when you noticed him, Blue. He was breaking up a fight between a couple of the more rowdy girls. The way he commanded the room, grabbed them by their collars and pulled them apart as if it took nothing. You knew you shouldn’t have watched so long, but you couldn’t stop. Not even when his gaze met yours and he gave you a cocky grin.

His dark gaze lingers on your skin like a heavy blanket as you adjusted to life here. In the days after your first caught glance you tried to move so someone, something could be between his gaze and you. You were already overstimulated from the moment you arrived and now? You’ve got his undivided attention…

Today it’s too much. You pad softly to your room, enjoying the quietness as you lay down and settle the covers over your head. Here in your own little world with the distant sounds muffled by the blankets you can almost picture yourself elsewhere, until a gentle voice and the click of your door’s lock interrupts the stillness.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Blue’s tone sent a shiver up your spine. “Can you come out?” His voice is so near you jolt upright, covers still up to your neck. “Attagirl that’s better.”

There’s that scent again and this time it’s definitely coming from you. “I read over your file, such a shame.” He tuts as he slowly pulls the blanket from your grip. “But I think I already like you. You’ve stayed out of trouble, you do as your told…” his smile is reassuring, but his eyes? Their intensity tells you all you need to know.

“I’m trying to be good, please I don’t want any trouble.” you’re soft plea is met with widening grin.

“Oh no no no, there’s no trouble. I’m here to reward you.” You shrink back against the wall to no avail as he leans forward. “I just need you to lie back sweet thing.” The juxtaposition of his cooing words and rough tug at your pants sends your mind spinning. Shame bubbles up at your exposed lower half. Your feeble attempt to close your legs is met with strong hands on your thighs.

“What are you-“ his finger on your lips cuts your protest short.

“None of that, open.” His voice is still low but there’s an edge of warning. You obey, opening your mouth ever so slightly. His breath catches as his finger slips past your parted lips and across your tongue. “Oh good girl, such a good girl.” He coos, “suck on it.”

The groan you pull from his throat as you suck shoots straight to your core, “Oh just like that.” He dips his head down, pressing his lips against your mound as you continue. “Fuck - what a sweet little cunt.”

The first swipe of his tongue up your slit sends you bucking forward. “Shh.” He hisses as he slips another finger past your lips.

Heat rises in your body as you obey, sucking down both his fingers in a steady pace. His other hand wraps around your leg to keep you open, at the mercy of his mouth. Fingers dig into your thigh and his face flushes as he works. His dark gaze flickers up to you, something in your expression makes him smile against your core.

He squints for a moment and focuses on your face as his tongue adjusts. Flat and firm against your clit earns him a soft groan, flicking the tip of his tongue against it elicits a sharp inhale.

He hums as he furrows his brow in thought, then you felt him chuckle. Something dark and low then, he gently sucks on your bundle of nerves sending you quivering. “There it is.” He growls, pulling his fingers from your mouth to get a hold on your other leg.

He adjusts to lock your legs open with his grip, looks up to you with a wink and sucks again.

“P-please!” You gasp, grabbing at the sheets beside you. You weren’t even quite sure what you were begging for at this point. For him to stop? For him to not stop? You bit your lip to try and muffle the noises that’re trying to escape your throat.

“Shhh it’s okay,” he coos, coming up to press his forehead against yours. “Just enjoy it.” He whispers against your lips before pressing a soft kiss against them. It was so gentle, so sweet that you start to melt into it.

He pulls away, shimmying back down to your exposed core. He looks up to you through thick lashes as he sinks a finger into your soaking heat. You suck in a breath, gripping the sheets till your knuckles turn white. “One more,” he encourages as another finger sinks deep into you. You arch against the sensation, breath coming unevenly. “So good, so fucking tight.” He purrs as his kisses your sensitive bud.

Blue began pumping his fingers slow and steady, curving them every time they sink deep. You felt your channel tighten and the swelling of pleasure low in your belly. “B-Blue I,” you voice rang out between ragged breathes. “Blue ple-AAHH!” He cut your sentence short by once again sucking on your oversensitive clit.

Your hand flew up to clamp over your mouth, to stop the startling noises that jumped out of you. This lasted only a moment when Blue turned and bit hard into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You gasp and twist but his arms keep you firmly in place.

“Don’t you dare cover your mouth, do you hear me?” He growled.

You nod, tears welling up as you plead “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Blue I didn’t mean to -“ he kisses and licks softly where he bit.

“It’s alright, don’t let it happen again. I want to hear every sound. Every groan and scream from that perfect mouth.” He stopped, pinning you with his gaze. “And if you do it again I’ll fuck your throat raw.” He punctuated his threat with a kiss on your swollen clit.

“O-okay.” You sniffle, wiping tears from your eyes. He held your gaze for a beat longer before returning to what felt like him sucking the soul from your body. Every nerve feels alight as his fingers work and curve, his lips locked over your overworked nub. Your noises ringing out in your room till you were sure the whole of the Lennox House knew Blue has claimed you.

Sweat beads across your forehead and your breathing comes in pants as you reach your peak. With a choked cry your legs lock and squeeze around Blue’s head. He continues till you felt as if you were about to squeeze his head clean off his body. “Shhh shhh,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers free from your fluttering core and sucking them clean. “Relax, just breath. You did so well.” He smiles.

His praise feels, unnerving to say the least as you come down from your high. You wince at the pulsing in your thigh and look down to see the angry red circle Blue left with his teeth. He tuts as he runs a thumb over the mark, causing you to flinch again. His eyes meet yours “This’ll be a good reminder, for you to keep listening.” He presses his thumb into the tender spot.

“Okay!” You yelp, “Okay I’m sorry, I’ll keep being good.”

He smirks, moving the thumb that’s pressing into your thigh to press against your clit. “Yes, you will…”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue Jones Masterlist

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @ominoose @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie

[melodygatesauthor]

A Long Night

Blue Jones X f!Reader

Not Beta-read - Requested by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

Head Orderly, Blue Jones, comes into your room with a new medication that you don't recall being prescribed by your psychiatrist.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, sex pollen, dubious consent, patient/orderly sex, power imbalance, orderly Blue, asylum Blue, reader is asylum patient, unrealistic amounts of cum, no refractory period, cum smearing, messy sex, p in v creampie, coming in pants, porn with a little plot, rough sex, spit kink

Word Count: 2.9k

Head Orderly Blue Jones was in your room right as you were waking up. You noticed how he closed the door and locked it behind himself, pulling the privacy cover over the little window you used to look out into the hall of the asylum sometimes. This was unusual, and immediately you felt that nagging in the back of your mind that you should be looking for an escape. You’d been so well behaved since you arrived; there was no reason for him to be in your room.

Your gaze fell to his hand, noticing that he had an inhaler he’d brought with him. He approached your bed slowly, looking at you with a smug grin, which to you meant he was up to something horrible. Blue was known for his lewd practices within the asylum. He looked down at you as you climbed off the bed and stood in front of him, trying your best to appear unafraid.

“Good morning.” He looked over the inhaler before turning his gaze back to you, “it’s time for your medication babygirl. There’s this new one the doctors want you to take.”

“My psychiatrist didn’t say anything about that,” you protested, “I’m not taking it.”

Blue pressed his lips together tightly and then licked them, narrowing his eyes on you in a threatening way. You knew that look, and knew that nothing good could come after it. He tilted his head to the side and huffed out an irritated sigh. You gulped harshly, feeling the fear pool in your gut like a heavy weight. He wasn’t above psychological and physical torture to make girls behave, and you knew that. Regardless, you had no idea what the contents of that inhaler would do to you, and you were determined to keep it that way.

“I do so much for you. I know you know that.” His tone was soft and yet still laced in a horrific darkness. “Why are you going to start acting up now? Huh?”

He licked his lips again, face getting so, so close to yours. His voice was rising, along with his very obvious aggravation at your disobedience. Blue didn’t like any sort of defiance, and you weren’t giving him what he wanted. You kept your eyes on him, despite your mind telling you to look away. You were afraid that if you lost sight of him for even a second, he would strike.

“Come here.” He said roughly, reaching out and grabbing your jaw in his strong hand. 

One of your hands reached up to grab his wrist as he brought the inhaler toward your face, and your other hand desperately latched over his enclosed fist. You struggled against his strong grip, grunting while trying to pry his fingers open. You knew that whatever was inside the canister could spell your death. You had to find a way to overcome his strength.

“Come on!” He yelled, “you’re going to take this whether you want to or not so-”

You got the upper hand, kneeing his inner thigh, and managing to steal the inhaler from his hand. You were squeezing so hard over the apparatus that you activated the canister in his face by mistake. A dark crimson cloud puffed out of the inhaler and you watched Blue breathe it in entirely.

The room became deafeningly silent. He let go of you, and you dropped the inhaler on the floor with a loud clunk. He glared at you for a moment, clearly trying to process what had just happened. You had no idea what you just did, but understood that this couldn’t end well for you. Either you’d just killed him, which meant you were going to get lobotomized or outright executed, or you did something that was going to hurt him and he was going to make you pay for it later. You covered your mouth nervously, eyes widened in terror.

Blue pursed his lips at you, agitation etched in every part of his face. He was still alive, and he didn’t seem to be in any pain. You felt a little relief. He shook his head slowly, sniffing while he brushed the backside of his hand under his nostrils. His gaze stayed on you, like a predator looking at its prey. His eyes trekked over your torso and to the floor before shooting back up at you. You gasped involuntarily and stepped back.

“You really think you did something there don’t you babygirl?” His tone was taunting. You really fucked up.

“W-what was in that?” You asked anxiously, failing to keep your voice from trembling.

You watched Blue’s cheeks started turning a shade of dusty pink while he removed his jacket.

“Fuckin’ hot in here isn’t it?” He tossed his jacket onto the floor, leaving him in only his white tee.

“It’s-it’s not that hot.” Your voice sounded vacant while you stared in awe.

He licked his lips hungrily while he looked at you. You watched his pupils dilate, making his eyes appear black. Blue paced slowly, airing his shirt out and keeping his eyes trained only on you. You started to back up toward the wall. If only he hadn’t been occupying the space between you and the only door out of there, you might’ve been able to make a break for it. He followed you while you continued backward, trying desperately not to trip over yourself.

He lowered his gaze, looking up at you from beneath his lashes.

“I need to fuck you, gonna fill you with everything I have,” he spoke in a low growl. His wide shoulders were heaving with each breath, “come here.”

His words hung in the air and forced a panicked breath to escape your lips. You were getting closer to the corner of the room, and once he had you there you knew you were done. You saw him reach a hand down to grab around the hard bulge in his pants. He dragged his palm over his erection while he drew nearer to you. Blue moaned at his own touch.

You shook your head, “no, Blue, please.”

Whatever was in that inhaler was clearly making him aroused, more aroused than he could handle. You remembered suddenly that it was originally intended for you. You knew he’d slept with some of the other girls in the facility; a lot of them had talked about it. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it yourself, and the idea of him taking you was exciting. They all talked about how fucking good he felt and how big he was. Judging by the shadow in his pants, they weren’t lying. This wasn’t how you wanted it though. In his current state, Blue was going to cause you real harm, you could see it in his eyes.

“Stop walking away from me and come here,” he said between gritted teeth, pointing his index finger at the ground.

“No.”

You darted to his left, thinking foolishly that you might be able to get to the door in time, but he grabbed you, pulling you back against his chest. You shouted and wriggled desperately while he brought you to the floor, managing to pin your flailing hands above your head with only one of his. His fingers were scalding hot against your wrists.

He buried his face in your neck while he talked to you in a low growl.

"I know you've been talking to the other girls about how bad you want me, now's your chance babygirl so just shut up and take it." His free hand was grabbing the waist of your pants and fighting to pull them down.

You noticed that he was eagerly grinding his hips against you, sliding his clothed erection against your inner thigh. You couldn’t move, he was pressed too tightly against your body and when you tried to yell he picked his head up and slotted his lips on yours to silence you. Blue stole your protests until they turned into moans, continuing to thrust himself over you. His kissing was sloppy and drool started coating your chin. He was nearly vibrating, as if his entire body was surging with electricity.

“When I get into those fucking pants, gonna fuck you wide open. You’re not even gonna remember your name when I’m done with you.”

Blue let out a strangled sound as his body shook violently. His mouth was open on the side of your face, spit rolling down your cheek as his hot breath punched out of his lungs and onto your skin. You felt the wet spot that formed between your legs where he’d been prodding against you. He came in his fucking pants. Blue Jones  was so worked up that he came in his goddamn pants.

“All that for you to just…” you sniffed out a laugh, feeling foolish for panicking so hard.

Relief washed over you. You’d been truly afraid that Blue was going to hurt you. When he’d said he was going to fuck you wide open, you thought he might actually deliver on that promise. You tried to push him off of you, but he was still holding onto you tight. His eyes turned up and met yours, gaze still hooded in lust.

“Stay still,” he ordered, letting go of your wrists, “I need more.”

He started tugging at your pants again, but you took that opportunity to slide back and foolishly try to run again, another big mistake. Blue got up quickly and grabbed you by the back of your shirt. He was strong, made even stronger by the mystery medication he’d inhaled, and dragged you back to your bed despite your protests. He pushed you down face first into the mattress and closed in behind you.

“I told you to stay still,” he repeated in a low growl, “I’m not done playing with you yet.”

He pulled your pants down quickly. You felt him fumbling while he rushed to do the same for himself. He didn’t even have a chance to slide them off before he was pressing the thick head of his cock to your entrance. You had a feeling that you weren’t going to be able to get away, even if you did manage to get him off of you and make it to the door. Surely it was locked, and the key was in his long discarded jacket on the floor. You were trapped there.

He plunged himself deep into your wet heat and started fucking into you ravenously. His hands were painfully grabbing onto your waist, leaving divots in their wake. You held onto your bedding tight, balling it up in your fists. When he said he was going to fuck you wide open he meant it. You’d never felt anyone so big or so…good. Despite your initial fears, he was hitting all the right spots and sending you into a dumb-fucked state that you couldn’t shake.

“Feels so good babygirl-fuck,” he rasped from behind you, snapping his hips against your rear, “hope you’re ready for a long night. This would’ve been a lot better for you if you’d just taken your medicine like you were supposed to.”

You couldn’t speak, you could only make unintelligible noises while you drooled into the mattress. Blue was enjoying this all too much, you could tell by the way his hands trekked over your skin. You felt him lean forward, pushing you down further, nearly flattening you. His lips touched your spine through your shirt.

“Take this off,” he didn’t stop grinding into you while he pulled your shirt up to your neck, “take it off.”

You reached up, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it on the floor. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you, his hot skin burning you to your core.

“You’ve got the tightest little pussy babygirl-fuck-I’m just gonna fill you up over and over okay? Just gonna-oh-fahh.”

He was coming again, and this time you were too, the way the head of his cock dragged over that spot deep inside of you was maddening. He was twitching wildly into you, cum squirting over the sides and down your thighs in a hot dripping mess. Blue kept fucking through it, never slowing his pace even though you started yelling for him to stop. You were feeling oversensitive and you needed to catch your breath.

But he wouldn’t stop.

He pulled out just long enough to turn you around, grab your sides and shove you back onto the bed. He climbed over you, smiling and licking his lips while he positioned himself between your cum-sticky legs. He hurriedly took off his pants now, murmuring something about how they were in his way.

“So pretty, all fucked out, my pretty babygirl.” He dove into the hollow of your neck hungrily, “n-need more.”

“M-more? I can’t take-oh fuck.”

He was inside of you again, slamming his hips at an unforgiving pace that left you grabbing onto the sides of the bed for stability. You were oversensitive, and you felt tears streaming down your cheeks. He ripped his shirt off without slowing his thrusts. Blue fell forward, pressing his sweaty chest flush against yours. You could feel his heat burning against your breasts.

“I can’t stop, don’t you understand? I can’t stop until you’re full. Gotta make sure you’re good and full. All mine. You’re mine, okay?”

His breath was shaking and ragged as he crashed his mouth into yours with a force that made a muffled scream escape your lungs. You felt his tongue glide over the seam of your lips. He wasn’t asking nicely for you to open yourself up to him, he was demanding. You complied, what else could you do? He was flattened against you, trapping you in place.

He kissed you like a man starved. You could hardly breathe with how heavily he was panting into your mouth. You turned your head, gasping for air desperately. His hand flew up and grabbed your throat. His nearly black eyes darted between yours.

“Open your fucking mouth,” his voice was like gravel in your ear.

You obeyed, knowing your options were limited, dropping your jaw down as far as you could. He squeezed around your windpipe with his strong hand, choking your airway while he dropped a glob of spit down over your tongue. You arched your chest up, panicking when you couldn’t take in a full breath. He finally loosened his fingers and you gulped in what little air you could before he started kissing you again.

He shuddered a moan into your mouth, tongue finally softening, melting into yours repeatedly. You felt his cock hardening with his third orgasm. He whined this time when he came, and you tasted his salty tears as they fell down his face, sliding over your tongues.

“Just feels so good, feels so good baby,” he kissed you again, lips smacking noisily, “your little pussy is squeezing me so tight, oh you’re just loving this aren’t you?”

You were. It had taken you a moment to get over the initial shock of him taking you so suddenly, but you had to admit that it felt mind-numbingly delicious to have him fucking you so hard, and wanting you so desperately. You felt your own climax hit again like a wave crashing over your body and making you go limp. Your mind went white while he dragged his thick shaft on that sweet spot repeatedly. He was still so fucking hard, and showing no signs of stopping. You tried to push him off of you now, the oversensitivity making you feel like you were going to go into cardiac arrest any second.

“Please, please it’s too much it’s-ah!”

He pulled out of you, and you felt his hot cum gush out of your cunt.

“Just making room, not enough room,” he was panting like a dog, cupping his hand under your hole.

You watched in awe as he brought a huge handful of the white, sticky substance up and held it over your torso. You were in awe watching it drip between his fingers. He slapped it onto your abdomen before thrusting himself inside of you once more. His eyes were half hooded when he looked at you again. You bit your bottom lip against the ache, trying not to cry out and alert the entire asylum.

He pressed his chest to yours again. The slick of his cum was sliding your bellies against each other with each forward snap of his hips. Blue’s face was buried again in the crook of your neck, kissing and whimpering while he fucked harder.

“It’s too much!” You cried, trying to push him off of you.

“Shut the fuck up.” He said harshly against your ear, “you’re done when I say so, and you’re not done until I’ve emptied every last drop I have into you, got it?”

You gasped when he nipped your earlobe.

“Y-yes Blue.”

“Good girl.”

AO3 LINK

Blue Jones Masterlist

Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @alexxavicry, @ryebreadsworld, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @bloodredwolfsbane, @minigirl87, @peachbear-art, @poppyflower-22, @dameronshandholder, @y0urvalent1ne, @ninebluehearts, @gay4magneto, @midgardian-witch, @loki-hargreeves, @kittyofalltrades, @welcometostayingawake, @thatmomwitchfriend, @abbessolute, @campingwiththecharmings, @romanarose, @grumpyahjumma, @moonknightly, @pimosworld, @purplefancybitch

[justafandomgvrl]

Angels Tears

Blue Jones x F!Reader

Comfort

Word count - 300ish

You don’t hear his footsteps as he comes closer to you, too distracted by the sobs that heave through your body and leave you twitching. You’ve lost track of why you started crying in the first place.

“Angel?” You look over your shoulder to see Blue and you wipe your eyes furiously, not making eye contact with him as he crouches down in front of you. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and his jaw clenches as another sob makes it through your defences.

“I don’t know.” You whisper. He nods, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet with him when he stands. “I’m sorry, Blue, I know we’re not supposed to-”

“It’s okay, Angel. Come with me, we’ll get you cleaned up and someone else can take your place in the show tonight.” You blink at him with still teary eyes as he gently leads you towards his office, shouting for someone else to be in the show on your behalf. You stare at the floor as you move, tears blurring your vision and your makeup burning your eyes from crying for so long. You don’t register when you make it to his office but he eases you into the chair, leaning against his desk as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. “Oh, Angel. Surely you can tell me if something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong.” You repeat, your voice numb. He leans closer, sliding from the desk to his knees in front of you and your mouth drops open at the gesture.

“That’s okay, Angel. I’ve got you. Let me help you.” He murmurs, taking a tissue from his desk and dabbing at your tear-stained cheeks. “I’ve got you.” The jarring gentleness of his actions makes you cry more and he sighs, looks down at his suit and decides that it’s worth ruining it as he stands and wraps his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

[winniethewife]

Special day for a special girl (Blue Jones X F!reader)

A/N: For @ominoose Happy Birthday Mushi! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: smut under the cut, Blue is his own warning, fingering, Cunnilingus

Words:705

She woke with a start. Blue looming over her with an unusually cheerful look on his face. She instantly felt on edge. Blue was usually unpredictable, and his mood was hard to understand. She sits up slowly, apprehensive,

“Good Morning pretty girl.” Blue smiled at her a twinkle in his eye. He takes her hand in his and kisses it softly. She looks at him with a slight tilt of her head. He must want something. And want it bad.

“What’s going on Blue? You’re never this nice…”  She tried to pull away but he holds on tight.

“Hey…Baby baby…I just want to make you’re special day special…” He sits down on the bed next to her as she curls her legs up to her chest, he’s still holding on to her hand. . She feels confused.

“Special day?” she asks, she had no idea what day it was anymore, every day at the club was pretty much the same day in day out… it was near impossible to keep track. Blue just smiles.

“Yes, it’s your birthday. A special day…all about you.” He purrs as he takes her chin in his hand lifting her face to look at his. “I want to give you something special… something special for my special girl…” He presses his lips to hers, which was also surprising. As he pulled her in closer, putting his arm around her, bringing her chest to his, she softly moans. This was unexpected, unusual, and… nice. She puts her hands on his chest, the fabric of his suit was surprisingly soft. He took this as a sign… he pushes her down onto the bed, not daring to remove his lips form hers as she clutches his clothes in surprise. Her eyes open wide as he gets on top of her, her heart starts to race. She pulls away and opens her mouth to say something, to ask a question, he puts a finger over her mouth. “Shhhh….Don’t worry, I’ll take care you, My pretty girl…” he croons, kissing her on the lips, then her cheek, her jaw, neck…His hands caressing her skin, as he makes his way lower and lower on her body, His hands gentle, his soft words sweet. She was surprised, Blue wasn’t usually so kind, but shed take anything. Blue looks up at her from between her legs. “I’m gonna take good care of you baby. Keep your eyes on me pretty girl. That’s it…” He says quietly as he pulls her underwear to the side, sliding his fingers through her folds, rubbing his thumb in circles around her clit.

“Blue…” She moans his name softly, her breathing heavy, her eyes locked on his as he leans in to her, sliding his finger into her. She lets out a soft gasp as she feels him inside her, the feeling familiar but different, gentle, loving, not at all like her  clients. Her soft whimpers fill the room, like music to Blues ears as he carefully slides in a second finger curling them up into her. She bucks her hips into him, eagerly seeking his touch.

“That’s it pretty girl, making you feel good right? Tell me, who makes you feel this good?” He eggs her on stilling his fingers waiting for her response.

“You do Blue, you make me feel good” She cries out. She needs him badly.

“Good girl.” He praised her as he leaned in kissing her clit, pushing his fingers in and out of her, his tempo increasing as he sucks on her wanting to bring her to her climax. He runs his tongue along her folds and moving his fingers faster as she clenches her walls around his fingers. “That’s it pretty girl. Cum on my fingers. Can you do that for me baby?” He says into her skin, before nipping lightly at her thigh. She yelps slightly at the sting, then as he moves to bite the other side she feels the hot wave of pleasure come crashing down on her. As she rides out her high Blue smiles, pulling out his fingers and slides them into his mouth to clean them off, a satisfied hum leaves his throat. “A special day, for a special girl...”

~

Masterlist

[pimosworld]

My name is Priscilla but you can call me P,Pimo,Miss Priss or any variation of your fav nickname for me. My blog is 18+, and I mostly write fluff and smut. I’ve made a lot of friends here and I’m open to write for anyone. This community has helped me heal in ways I can’t describe so I hope you enjoy my writing. 🤍

Please turn on notifications if you would like to stay up to date on my posts.

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Masterlist by pimo

I started out writing for Moon knight and that quickly evolved into other characters so I will say that I’m open to write for anyone.

I don’t have a lot of rules but I generally won’t describe my reader to stay inclusive as a poc and this is a safe space for the lgbtqi community so no ignorance will be tolerated.

Im open to requests (angst,fluff,smut…any character) but I work a full time job so please be patient with them as well as my wips.

Triple Frontier

Frankie Morales

Joel Miller

Santiago Garcia

Dave York

Moonknight

Javier Peña

Blue Jones

Miguel O’Hara

[shewolfofficial]

Mr. J <3

the image itself is apparently too big for tumblr so have a screenshot of it instead (it lowered the quality) 😿

[jayke0]

Oscar Isaac says it's ok to cry 💙💙💙

[awxcoffeexno]

unholy

mean!loganhowlett x mutant!reader one shot

fic masterlist

summary: you work at a shady dance club that offers other services. logan is a regular but this time he decides to implement his claws.

content warnings: very very VERY 18+. MDNI. claw worship and knife play!! mentions of blood and cutting. logan is very very mean and he likes hurting reader because he knows she can take it. reader is a mutant and a sex worker. please proceed only at your own risk, this is pure degeneracy and very very nsfw. also, sex, piv, mild slapping, lots of sucking and mention of bruises (only from the sex). vaguely set in the 70's after stryker's experiment (mostly only in my head because origins logan lives in my head rent free). also cameo from blue from sucker punch as a shout-out to baby me.

word count: 4k. longest from me.

a/n: since my utterly disgusting thoughts rubbed off on a lot of other people and the last claw worship fic was quite well received, i went ahead and wrote an nsfw version. this is pure filth and his fckin claws will never not make me feel some typa way. i will not apologise.

it's sweltering in the club, the music pounding, and the air filled with rising smoke from the hand-rolled cigarettes in the patrons' ashtrays. your mind is buzzing from the overstimulation and your muscles ache from the dancing, begging for a rest.

you love every last bit of it.

a man reaches up to where you're standing and tucks ten dollars into the string of your thong. you smile at him flirtatiously and sway down onto your haunches so you can lean in and thank him properly.

you've been in the trade long enough to know that the better you thank them, the more they keep coming back for. you're in the business of sales, really; conversions are everything. this business is fast business—there's the wall street boys and the dance girls, the two most proficient sales people in the world.

the man grins at your sultry voice, rewarding you with another ten dollars and a hot kiss to your neck. this isn't a no-touch club and that might be your favourite thing about working here. men are more likely to behave when they're allowed to touch rather than when they think they're rebelling by touching.

your hair, damp from sweat, sticks to your forehead and it almost makes you sad thinking about how nicely you'd done it earlier in the night. real big and fluffy, just like blue likes it.

and just as you think about him, he appears at your pole. he runs a hand up your sticky calf to catch your attention and you slide down, knowing from his expression instantly that there's more work to do.

tina quickly takes your place on the pole and you thank her with a kiss to the cheek and five dollars from your string. it's simple courtesy, and an unwritten club rule. if you're leaving your post for higher paying activities, you thank the other girl who is covering for you with money.

"hey, babydoll," blue says in your ear over the music, sliding a hand around your bare waist. "big ol' guy's here for you. the one with the…" blue rubs his cheeks, "fluff."

"logan," you say, more to yourself than blue, and he tips your chin to him.

"ask for 200, and only let him bring you down to 180. you gotta make up the difference for last week, sugar."

200 is asking for a lot for the hour. your going rate is a hundred and that's only because you're one of blue's favourite girls and he brings you his best clients. but logan's been a regular for the better part of six months now and blue knows he can hustle him for at least 180. besides, you were sick all week last week and blue warned you he'd make you pay.

so you lean in and give him a kiss, promising him the money.

"attagirl," he smirks, tugging your mouth open with a thumb and slipping a pill in.

you smile at him gratefully and start up the stairs, the roar of the music fading into a hum. quickly spitting the pill out into your hand, you tuck it into your bra. you'll flush it down the toilet when you get to your room. blue says the pills make it easier but you hate how groggy they make you feel. in any case, you like your sessions with logan.

he's good for you, keeps you from floating off into the sky. you're fairly certain there's an old roman story about flying a little too high. or was it greek?

slipping into your little red room, you quickly wash up and change into a silk robe that you know will not last the night. not around logan. but blue keeps a steady supply of them coming so long as you bring him good money which you do.

once you've refreshed your make up and puffed on a cigarette, you press the buzzer, letting the boys downstairs know to send logan up.

his broad shoulders fill your doorframe under a minute, the warmth of his presence sending a shiver down your sweaty body. he's clad in all black formal wear that rather reminds you of a funeral.

"whiskey?" you offer, watching him sit down on the plush leather chair that most others don't even bother to notice.

logan likes it slow, taking his time to unwind and ease up before he takes his stress out on you. it's rather nice, your usual routine.

however, when he grunts a yes and you start pouring his whiskey, you notice that something's off about him today. his eyes are a little droopy when they're usually so alert. his skin paler than the usual golden tan he sports.

something's wrong and you don't like the feeling that settles in your gut at that.

you take the whiskey over to him and climb into his lap, offering him the glass.

"what happened?" you ask, your voice betraying the concern you should probably never feel for any client.

he looks at you and snarls quietly, "poison arrow."

fuck.

logan's not particularly well beloved by the kind of gentry that a place like this attracts or the people he crosses paths with regularly. this much he's told you before and he's nothing if not honest.

but a poison arrow?

fuck.

your recent knack for eloquence aside, you ask quietly, "and… are you okay?"

"m'fine. fucked my healing though," he grumbles, pulling the collar of his flannel to the side, showing you the ugly gash that stretches from his shoulder, disappearing into his shirt.

you and logan share that power, a gift really. accelerated healing. it's come in handy plenty to you and you're only a dance girl. you cannot begin to imagine how a man like him will survive without it.

he sees your cringing expression and barks out a single-syllable laugh. the sound breaks you out of your thoughts and you look at him, startled.

"look at your face, pretty girl. told'ya m'fine. it's getting better already," he says and his voice, though tinted with his usual casual condescension, is gentler than you've ever heard him. he's… reassuring… you? you think??

"now, c'mere," he downs the whiskey and uses both hands to pull you closer by the thighs.

and then his mouth is at your neck, and there's the logan you know. rough and uncaring, cruel because he knows your body can take it. knows you can take what he can never do to anyone else.

he savours the salt on your skin, running his large paws down your arms tucking your wrists behind your back. he likes you detained, pliant and ripe for the taking. his throaty groan on your skin in the dip of your now exposed collar bone makes the need curl in your core.

real need, not the kind that you summon with other clients. need that is amplified when he squeezes your wrists tighter together to make you quit squirming.

"lo–"

"shut up." he commands, licking and sucking down your neck and shoulder, and that's that. you snap your mouth shut immediately.

logan slips your robe off both your shoulders with his free hand and his teeth sink into the flesh in the nape of your neck hard enough to draw blood, making you cry out his name. he's exhausted and healing too slowly and he needs to use you as his stress ball and fuck you until he feels better.

you want to cry out, you want to beg him until he gives you what you need but you know better than to do that with him. your hips however rut into him, making him yank you back and glare at you.

"and who let you do that, princess?" he says so calmly, voice oceans deep and velvety smooth, that you don't realise for a second that it was a question. a rhetorical one.

you blush and it makes his lip curl in a patronising smile.

"oh, i'll give you what you need alright. all you gotta do is ask, sugar."

you want to remind him that he was the one that told you to shut up but that won't end well, so you oblige.

"logan, please…" you whisper, hands trying to readjust in his grip, grasping for a more comfortable position. "please let me have you."

"that just won't do. need me to help you put together full sentences too?" he grumbles, readjusting because he's clearly in pain. "say it like you want it. say you want my fat cock to fill your needy little pussy. say you want her to feel good."

logan's mouth is disgusting. the words aren't too different from what the other men that come to your room spout but on his tongue they sound particularly dirty. and apparently you like dirty because god fucking dammit… his words and his voice and his scent and his everything make your need for him desperately worse.

"please, please, just need your fat cock to fill my pussy, to stretch her out, logan." you grovel. "need my pussy to feel good, please."

"jesus fuck, princess. got quite the mouth on you." he smirks as if he wasn't the one to draw those words from your lips. "let's put it to good use."

he isn't going to let you have his cock in you to quench that need that easy. he always, always makes you work for it.

he juts his chin out, gesturing to you to get on the floor and you slip between his legs, looking up at him reverently.

you like him in your mouth anyway. you like the way he uses you just hard enough to make you cry but never hard enough to make you feel like you're drowning–unlike some people who come here, the ones that make you bury your face in blue's chest later as he lectures you about needing to toughen up.

but when he reaches our for you, his hand comes into your focus and it makes you gasp softly. the space between his knuckles, home to his claws, is bared open, dirty and covered in blood. the claws cut him open every time but heals immediately so it's never mattered before. you take his giant hand with both of yours to examine the wounds but he yanks it away. the back of his hand comes down on your right cheek in a sharp, firm slap.

"focus," he growls and you rub your cheek, eyebrows setting into a frown.

your tone is firmer than it is around him when you speak. "show it to me, logan."

he shifts in his seat, gauging you. he isn't used to hearing any form of authority in your voice. nor is he used to being taken care of. he cracks his neck, shaking it off and then leans forward.

"you wanna see?" he says, voice so low it makes your toes curl.

you swallow thickly and nod, chewing on the inside of your lip.

"then you're going to have to pay, princess."

your tummy jumps as he puts his fist in front of you. you're about to reach over to grab his hand again, leaning in close to take a better look, but out come his claws making you shuffle back in alarm. they stop at your lips, drawing a hitched breath from you.

"open your mouth, angel. it'll hurt too much if i push them in myself."

the old man has lost it.

"lo–" you start to protest but he's retracted all but his middle claw with a loud snikt, and is pushing the flat of the remaining one into your mouth.

the cold adamantium of logan’s claw presses against your tongue, the sharp edge demanding obedience. you part your lips further slowly, letting the flat of the blade slide deeper inside, grazing your tongue. the metallic taste is sharp, a reminder of the danger you’re playing with.

logan’s gaze never leaves yours, dark and unyielding. there’s no softness in his eyes, no hint of gentleness. this isn’t about comfort or care—this is about control, about reminding you who’s in charge. his other hand grips your jaw, fingers digging into your skin just hard enough to bruise, forcing you to keep your mouth open.

“good girl,” he mutters, the praise laced with a mocking edge that makes your stomach twist. his tone is condescending, amused by how easily you submit to him.

he begins to draw the claw out, then slides it back in, a slow and deliberate rhythm that forces you to focus on the sensation—the cool metal, the danger of the sharp blade so close to your skin. your breath hitches, a mix of fear and something darker curling in your gut.

“look at ya, angel,” logan sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “so eager to worship something that could slice you open without a second thought.”

it’s as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crave his approval despite the cruelty in his touch.

his grip on your jaw tightens as he tilts your head back further, forcing you to take the claw deeper into your mouth. “don’t bite down,” he warns, the threat clear in his tone and you realise… he can feel it. he can feel your mouth on his claw and it's stoking the fire in him.

you nod as best as you can in response to his words, your eyes locked on his, wide and pleading. the pain from his grip mingles with the strange pleasure of submission, and it’s almost unbearable. you feel like you're on fire. logan watches you struggle, a twisted smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.

“you like this, don't cha?” he taunts, pulling the claw out just enough to let you breathe. “you like being reminded of what i could do to you if i wanted. y'like knowing that i’m the one who decides how far this goes.”

he’s right, of course. you hate how much you like it, how the power he holds over you only intensifies the burning need in your belly. it’s humiliating and exhilarating all at once, and logan's reading you like an open book.

“now, let’s see if you’re really worth the trouble,” he growls, sliding the claw out entirely, leaving your mouth empty and aching. he leans back in his chair, holding his hand out in front of you, the metal gleaming under the dim light as the other claws come out too. “kiss them. show me how much you want it.”

your heart pounds as you lean in, pressing your lips to the cool metal with reverence. the taste of them lingers on your tongue, and the weight of his gaze is almost suffocating. but you do as you’re told, kissing the blades as if they're something sacred, something you’re desperate to prove your devotion to.

logan’s smirk widens as he watches you. “that’s it, princess. make it worth my while. maybe then i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

the claw lingers against your lips and you tilt your head slightly, pressing a softer, more deliberate kiss to the adamantium, tasting the faint tang of blood and iron bloom on your lips. the edge is sharp against your skin and you aren't surprised you've managed to cut yourself. but your body takes care of you and the wound is gone before you even lick the blood away.

your tongue flicks out, tentative at first, tracing the length of the blade. you can’t stop yourself, your need to please him overpowering every other instinct. logan’s eyes narrow as he watches you, the barest hint of approval hidden beneath the hardness of his gaze.

“that’s more like it,” he murmurs, his voice quiet… tired. “show me how much you love it. show me how much you’re willing to do to keep me happy.”

you press your tongue flat against the claw, dragging it slowly along the length, tasting the cold metal. you wrap your lips around his claw and carefully start sucking the way you would his cock, making him groan your name. you cut yourself over and over as you suck but it bothers neither of you, the pain translating directly into the wetness between your legs.

“attagirl,” logan growls.

“thank you, logan,” you whisper against the claw, your voice trembling with need. “thank you for this.”

a dark chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. “thank me when you’ve earned it,” he replies, pulling the claw away just slightly, taunting you with its absence. your lips chase after it, a whimper escaping as you realize how much you're genuinely, truly enjoying this.

“please,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “please, logan, let me have you. let me take care of you.”

he raises an eyebrow, the cold amusement in his eyes never wavering. “take care'a me? is that what you think this is?” he presses the claw back against your lips, harder this time, making sure you feel the point against your skin. “you’re here to serve me, princess. and you’ll do it how i want, not how you think i need.”

a shudder runs through you at his words, the sharp edge digging just enough to leave a thin line of red along your lower lip. your eyes sting with tears, but you don’t dare pull away. instead, you lean into it, pressing your lips against the claw in a silent plea for mercy, for something more.

logan’s smirk deepens, his other hand coming to rest on the back of your head, pushing you forward just enough that the point of his claw cuts into your lip again. you gasp at the sting, but the sound is muffled as he presses down harder, forcing your mouth to open.

logan watches you, his expression unreadable, but his grip on the back of your head tightens, holding you in place as you continue to worship the deadly weapon in your mouth. “want to take care'a me?” he mocks, his voice rough and dark. “you think that's what i need?”

you nod as best you can with the claw in your mouth, your eyes pleading with him.

but logan isn’t done with you yet. he pulls the claw from your mouth, leaving your lips wet with a mix of blood and saliva. you gasp, trying to catch your breath, but before you can say anything, he shoves the claw against your chest, just above your heart, the point pressing into your skin.

“thank me,” he growls, his voice a low snarl. “and mean it.”

“thank you, logan,” you whisper, your voice cracking with desperation. “thank you for your claws.”

the cruel twist of his smile is all the reward you get, but it’s enough. he drags the claw down, slicing through the thin fabric of your robe, leaving a trail of red in its wake. you flinch, but you don’t pull away, your body trembling as you try to keep still under his touch.

"been good, babygirl." he relents finally, watching as your wound heals. "c'mere."

he hauls you into his lap with ease, despite his injuries. you make quick work of his buttons and throw his black shirt open. your eyes snap up to his and then back to his body.

he's covered in bullet holes. five that you can count anyway. your hands reach for them but he grabs your wrist.

"m'fine. they'll heal. two already have."

oh.

so you plant your mouth on his, kissing him deep, savouring the tobacco and musk of his breath. he tugs you closer, hooking a finger into your panties and dragging them down your smooth legs. it makes your toes curl.

the sticky mess between your legs leaves a dark patch on his trousers as he goes back to sucking soft bruises into your neck.

and then you hear his claws before you feel them, the cold metal cutting through what's left of your robe like butter, pressing into the soft skin over your scapula. you brace yourself, nails sinking into his broad shoulders and he cuts the claws in, slicing you open.

"logan, please!" you cry out but the pain is only momentary, delicious and burning hot, before your skin stitches itself back up like clockwork.

"fuck… me," he gasps and you've never heard him so affected.

he undoes his belt with a practiced hand and slides it off, tossing it off to the side and tugging his pants down. quickly, you position yourself over him, sitting down with your head rolled back, sheathing him with your warm, wet walls. he's splitting you open, stretching you the way you begged earlier.

and then he resumes cutting, slicing your back open as you move up and down on his cock. you bury your face in his neck, hiding your tears of pain and pleasure in his neck as he undoes you.

he grabs your jaw when he notices you start to lose yourself.

"no, you pay attention, bub." he snarls in your ear, kissing you roughly. pulling away when your eyes are wide open again, he slips a finger into your mouth.

the salt and blood on his skin makes your mouth water and this is beyond fucked up but you regret nothing. you suck diligently and he reaches down and wraps his mouth around your nipple, making you suck a sharp breath in. you feel his teeth sink in and it sends a shiver down your spine.

your hands in his hair, you tug sharply, making him growl and switch to your other nipple.

"logan…" you whine around his finger, thighs aching from the effort of riding him through it all.

he grunts and takes his hand away from your mouth. both hands on your waist, he starts to fuck you like a fucking fleshlight, moving you up and down on him like you weigh nothing.

you hear a snikt and a claw comes up to your face, running down the side of your cheek and making you mewl in pleasure.

you only just realise how much logan's wound you up in the hour that he's been in your room. you're hurtling towards the edge and he's barely been in you for a few minutes.

but you've wound him up too, the nerves in his body alight with pleasure.

"fuck, doll," he groans in your ear, retracting his claws and steading you with his hands again. "not going to last long tonight."

fuck. blue is going to kill you for letting Logan go so quickly.

yet you cannot seem to care.

you mewl his name and pick up speed at that, panting and gasping, and aching to please. he feels the telltale sign of your edge in the quivering of your walls and yanks you down on himself, pushing you over the cliff.

it's like fireworks and butterflies and pure fucking ecstasy.

"been a good fucking filthy girl," he whispers in your ear, knowing it'll make you react around his cock. "lettin' me cut'ya open like that."

you press your damp brow against his shoulder, riding your high weakly but your pussy does enough to bring him to his climax as well. he grunts and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight down in his lap, filling you warm and deep.

he pants softly in your ear and you look at him with a giddy smile. you reach for his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles and…

his hand is healed.

and… so is his other one.

you pull back to check the rest of him and… they're all gone. all of the bullet holes.

a sly smile spreads across your lips and you look at him with satisfaction dancing in your eyes.

"took care of you after all."

he lets out a surprised laugh, eyes softening with something you haven't seen in him before. he pulls you back into his embrace, and this softness is new. nice, but new.

"yes you did, princess."

i need to be committed and lobotomised with logan's claws. blue would love that.

love, d <3

taglist: @techwrecker, @saltwaterburns, @lilaccmilk, @clevah-girlboss

divider: @rookthornesartistry

[jacknives]

OSCAR ISAAC in SUCKER PUNCH (2011), dir. zack snyder

[moonyflesh]

“ugh, he’s actually so fine i need him,”

We all claim in unison as the camera pans over to reveal a 40+ year old man who’s a war criminal and probably has a higher body count than he does IQ.

he probably makes whimper audios ngl

[boredzillenial]

We interrupt your scheduled programming for this hoe down here:

[melodygatesauthor]

Product Demonstration

Club Blue Jones X f!Reader

Blurb 5 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut - Sex Worker Reader

“Look how wet she gets,” one of the men said from the audience.

“Mm, yes gentlemen,” Blue said, addressing them but looking right at you while pumping his thick cock in and out of your arousal drenched cunt. He leaned into you, “make sure to smile baby, nobody wants a sad little fuck toy,” he whispered.

You curled your lips up, moaning louder in an attempt to look happier. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy your time with Blue - in fact you loved it -, but you didn’t like being on display like that. Having so many onlookers while your boss showed you off made you uncomfortable.

“That’s my good girl. Just remember that no matter how many of them are looking at you, you’re mine, alright?” He snapped his hips forward, letting out a breathy moan as he did. “Even when they’re fucking you, they don’t own this body like I do.”

You didn’t respond, knowing Blue wanted you to just be a doll, and nothing else, but his words made you feel good. They made you feel like you were his, and no one else’s. It was as if, for a moment, you could forget that you were on a stage with an audience watching Blue fuck you senseless.

“How much can she take?” Someone else asked.

Blue huffed, slamming into you so hard the table underneath you shifted. You cried out, feeling his thick cock overwhelm you and make your cunt flutter around him. You leaned up, grabbing onto the lapel of his coat, your back arching as his movements became too much.

His hand closed around your throat roughly, “she’ll take whatever you give her, right babydoll?”

His fingers tightened around you threateningly.

“Y-yes sir…”

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

[justafandomgvrl]

thoughts about blue

Being his favourite. Like @ominoose totally is.

Blue sighs as he watches you move. His fists are clenched as he watches the audience staring at you. There’s no denying your beauty and he can’t stop everyone else from gazing at you.

But the second your dance finishes?

He’s backstage with you, easing your shoes off your feet and gently kissing your calves as his hands run up your legs to soothingly massage them.

He aids you in getting changed. Takes you out of your sexy stupid outfit and into one of his massive shirts and some underwear. He doesn’t even stare, letting you just be gentle, be soft, be alive.

You smile at him as he holds your aching muscles. He watches as you brush your hair and pin it up for the night.

And he wraps his arms around you for the rest of the night. He doesn’t let go. He keeps his grip tight on you when you have nightmares.

And you love him for it.

Because you know that behind his hard exterior, he loves you too.

[my-secret-shame]

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [2]

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

A/N: A massive thank you to the amazing @midgardian-witch for being the best and proofreading this nonsense and another huge thank you to the wonderful @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, choking, biting, hand job, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is getting his ass handed to him), swearing, Blue crying, p in v sex (Blue fucks another dancer at the beginning), 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.

Word Count: 2679

Rouged Lips in the Gaslight

Trixie was bent over the arm of the velvet sofa in Blue’s office, sharing its colour with the name of its owner. 

He hadn’t even bothered to fully undress himself or her. Just hiking up her short skirt (the same one she had been wearing for her routine half an hour ago) and pushing her underwear to the side while he unzipped his fly. 

She felt good, she always did. Warm, tight, and the sounds she was making alone, enough to make a porn star blush, should have been doing it for Blue. 

But they weren’t. And it was the fucking seventh time in barely two days. 

Every time he tried to get off it just didn’t work. He’d tried all the classics, combinations of his personal favourites, different dancers, different positions, different times of day, anything he could think of. 

He got hard, sure. Hell, that was the problem to begin with, he was horny. Fucking desperate to come. It just never happened. 

“Blue, fuck, please!” Trixie’s moans increased, getting louder as she neared her high. 

He picked up his pace, thrusting harder, tightening his grip on her hips and slamming her back to meet his; trying to satisfy that itch that just would not be scratched. 

He snarled, closed his eyes, and -  you with one hand on his throat and the other wrapped around his dick squeezing as you bit his lip until it bled. His blood on your mouth as you kissed him possessively, laying claim to him as he came; ruining him for anyone else. 

Trixie screams as she comes, snapping Blue annoyingly back to reality. 

It feels good, the way her cunt squeezes and flutters. Usually, that would be more than enough to bring him to his peak, to make him pump her pretty pussy full of him. He just can’t get there. 

He sighs in frustration, sweat on his forehead as he pulls out and quickly stuffs his painfully hard cock back into his trousers. 

Trixie breathes hard, a little dazed and shaky as she stands. There’s a little frown of confusion on her face, any hope that she hadn’t noticed Blue’s lack of orgasm quickly dissolving. 

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. But it does. 

“Get the fuck out.” 

His voice is hard and cold and Trixie doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He sits on his desk when the door closes and runs his hands over his face. This was getting fucking ridiculous. He was Blue fucking Jones for god’s sake. He couldn’t let anyone, especially you, one of his dancers, his property, do this to him. 

He breathed out roughly and stood again, his mind made up. It was just a little blip, nothing more than that. He just needed to show you who was boss, bend you over and fuck you until you begged him to stop. That would fix all of this. 

.

You sigh loudly as you finally find the correct gloves. They’re a deep scarlet, the only remaining matching pair that goes with the outfits of the seven other backup dancers. When Gorski told you they were in the tiny storage closet on the upper levels you had to bite your tongue to stop the groan that had threatened to escape. 

The storage closet was a mess to put it politely, random junk just dumped in there when there was nowhere else to put it. It was only because Blue had wanted Song Bird to have eight backup dancers for the routine, when for the past three weeks it had been seven. 

The gloves are a little battered, but nothing that would be noticeable to the patrons of the club, not when you were up on the stage anyway. 

You catch your reflection in the full length mirror that is jammed a little haphazardly in the corner. For a second the gloves in your hand look like blood. 

You put away the things you pulled out as best you can, not such an easy task in the mayhem mess, and turn to the door. 

Your hand barely grazes the cool metal of the handle before it’s wrenched out of your grasp as it’s flung open. 

Panic grips your heart and you visibly jump back just about managing to keep the little yelp of surprise that wants to escape quiet. 

And when your eyes land on the figure in the doorway, you’re more than glad you did. 

Blue glares at you, his eyes dark and shining in the dim light. He has a small, tight smile on his face. One of those practised expressions he wears at the club when he’s charming customers. 

He closes the door behind him, not taking his eyes off you and stalks forward, expecting you to back away. 

You hold your ground, annoyance fizzling in your blood at the gall he has to try to intimidate you and for a second you forget yourself. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

He pauses mid-step, blinking before he tries to pull that mask of superiority back on. “That’s not a very nice way to greet me now, is it?” He spits. 

“What are you doing here?” You repeat, your tone firm and fierce, unimpressed by how he bristles and tries to square up to you. 

“I own this place, and everything and one in it.” He leans close, his hot breath hitting your face. “I can go wherever I like.” 

You hold his gaze for one long moment before you swallow and step ceremoniously to the side, planning to walk past him. 

Blue matches your step, blocking your path. “What are you doing in here?” 

You hold up the gloves. “For Song Bird’s routine.” 

He stares at your hands for a moment, picturing you in the backup dancers' outfits. His throat bobs as he swallows before he grits his jaw. He had to focus. Had to get you out of his system. 

“What do you want, Blue?” Your voice is firm and sure, covering up the spike of uncertainty that has settled in your chest. 

He pauses, finally glancing up from the gloves to your face. Though now that he is looking directly at you it feels worse, blistering to be under the intensity of his gaze. He licks his lips. “You.”  

You stay quiet. 

“Just you.” He repeats, taking a step forward and placing a hand firmly on your shoulder. He pushes you back into the row of hanging clothing forcefully and leans close as the gloves slip from your hand. “You know, I thought you were just a scared little Bunny I could have some fun with, but you’re not.” He growls.

You swallow, fear swimming in your stomach, mixing with a dizzying haze of emotion. 

“You’re… dangerous. A Lion in rabbit’s clothing.” He mutters, tracing his fingers lightly along your jawline. 

Instinctively you smack his hand away. 

He grins at your gall. “You know… I’ve hurt people a lot more important than you for less.” He whispers. 

“Then why don’t you?” 

Blue pauses, his expression frozen on his face like a tableau, a tiny spark of uncertainty flickers into life behind his eyes. “I don’t… want to right now.”

“Liar.” 

He scowls. “Listen-”

“No, you listen.” You grab a hold of him, placing your hand firmly over his mouth and pinching his cheeks. 

His eyes widen, darken as arousal burns along his veins. 

You have no idea what’s gotten into you, why you’re doing this again. He could kill you on a whim, a snap of his fingers and a flick of his head would be all it took for his goons to empty their clips into your chest. 

Still, it seems like you’re in too deep now to change directions. 

You push him back a little, giving yourself some breathing space. “You don’t want to hurt me because you want me to hurt you.” 

He swallows, his throat bobbing. His hands still at his sides, making no effort to even wriggle out of your hold. 

You lean a little closer, echoing his teasing tone from before. “You like it.” 

There is the tiniest hitch of his breath and it’s all the reassurance you need. 

When he doesn’t respond quickly enough for your liking you squeeze a little tighter, feeling the imprint of his molars through his cheeks as you nod his head up and down. 

“There we go, did no one teach you it was rude not to answer a question?” You loosen your hold on him, revelling in the red impressions left on his skin. It shouldn’t thrill you, shouldn’t excite you. 

You trail your fingers along his jaw, running your thumb over his plump bottom lip and he shudders, closing his eyes for a second as he fights the urge to grab your arm and pull you closer. 

Instead he darts out his tongue, swiping it lightly over the tip of your thumb and groaning. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

The snarl in your voice makes his eyes snap open, makes him open his mouth for a frantic apology. 

The second his lips part you push your thumb inside, pressing down on his warm tongue to silence him. 

He startles, eyes going wide for a second as he grabs hold of your wrist instinctively. But the second his mind catches up with your actions he doesn’t pull back, only presses closer. 

He groans around your thumb, running his tongue along the length as he pushes his body flush against yours, grinding his aching cock against your leg. 

He’s so hard, throbbing as he rubs against you. A small whimper echos from his throat. 

You bite your lip, a wave of arousal washing over you at the sight. “You’re so pathetic, you know that?” 

He moans louder, frantically nodding his head as he thrusts his hips, sucking on your thumb for all he was worth. He squeezes your wrist, wrapping his other arm around you to hold you in place. 

You pull your thumb from his mouth suddenly, smearing his salvia on his chin and grabbing hold of his throat as you push him back away from you. 

Blue whines, his forehead pinched in distress and hips bucking aimlessly, trying to seek out that delicious friction again. 

“Can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you?” You growl, loosening his tie and roughly pulling it free as you undo the top three of his shirt buttons. “Fucking pitiful.” 

“S-sorry.” He mumbles, biting his lip as he gazes at you. 

You smack his cheek lightly and he groans, the sensation striking down to his cock like lightning. He’s dazed for a second as you manhandle him, too wrapped up in the feel of your fingers digging into his skin to even have one coherent thought. 

You twist his tie around his wrists, binding them harshly before you gather the last of the material and wrap it around your right palm. 

He gasps as you step behind him, your chest pressed against his back, and grab hold of his neck, pulling his wrists up in the process. The material digs in, makes his skin sing and fingers throb. It’s like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Blue bites his lip again, trying to keep some of the obscene sounds to a minimum. He feels dizzy, lightheaded as you squeeze his neck and use your free hand to slide down his chest to his trousers. 

The amount of times he’d tied up others, whipped and beaten until they’d crying and begging and pleading. It had felt so good, so right. But this… god it was nothing compared to this. 

You sink your teeth into the side of his neck and he keens, his back bending. He gasps, shivers and tries to breathe deeply through the wonderful pain, but your grip on his neck tightens, pulls him back further under your control. And he nearly comes on the spot. 

You bite harder. Niping and sucking at his skin, only soothing with your tongue for the briefest moment. 

He squirms under your hold, pressing up against your mouth and whimpering nonsense. 

He cries out when you unbuckle his belt, unbutton his trousers and unzip his fly. His heart thuds under your hand as you let his trousers fall to the floor and push his boxers down his thighs. 

“Please, oh god,” he whines when you squeeze especially hard on his neck and then gasps when you wrap your hand around his leaking cock. “Lion,” he stretches the word, rolls it around in his mouth desperately as you jerk your hand, your pace hard and brutal. He follows with his hips as much as you let him, tightening around his neck and pulling him back against you if he moves too much. 

“Lion, please!” He sobs. 

You break your mouth away from his bruised skin to hiss in his ear. “Look at yourself, look at how pathetic you are.” You tug his neck, forcing him to look at himself in the floor-length mirror. He lets out a sob as his own reflection stares back. How flushed his skin is, how desperate his eyes look. The way he barely struggles. How hard he is, leaking and throbbing under your hand. 

“Lion,” tears build at the corner of his eyes, “please.” 

“You’re wretched, despicable, barely worth the energy it takes me to make you come.” You sneer. 

And Blue screams. 

The knot in his stomach twists, liquid fire running along his spine as your words push him violently over the edge. He comes hard, spurting all over the floor. The force of it even hitting the edge of the mirror as he jerks and bucks and cries under your hold. 

For a moment it’s like he’s floating, light and far away from himself. Warm and safe under your touch. 

You loosen your grip around him instantly, worried for a second that he’s passed out and then silently hating yourself for enjoying that idea so much. 

He stumbles a little without your firm hold, but you guide him back to sit on the edge of a large box. 

He breathes deeply, spaced out as you slowly unwrap his tie from around his hands. His wrists are red, fingers off colour. He shivers slightly, his trousers still around his ankles. You pause, questioning if you’d be able to get him standing to do them back up without Blue falling over. 

Instead you turn to pull out a long, fluffy coat that had been used in a dance months ago to drape around him. 

He softly grabs your forearm as you turn, the touch a stark difference from earlier. 

“Please,” he looked up at you, his eyes hard and voice weak. “Don’t go.” 

The silence seems to hang for a long second. 

You swallow and take the coat off the hanger before wrapping him up. You squeeze his hand and move closer to him, intending to just stay a moment, but he grabs hold of your arms, pulls you closer still and buries his face into your stomach. 

He stays still for a moment, his fists tight as he hangs onto your shirt. 

You don’t know what to do, your hands hover in mid-air and… then his shoulders start to shake as he cries. 

“Hey, hey,” you lightly touch his head, running your hand through his short hair. “Hey,” you soothe and he looks up at you weakly. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles between sobs. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squat down to his level and stroke his cheeks. There’s a whirlwind of emotions fighting in your chest. 

He shakes his head. “Did I… Did I make you angry?” 

“No, no.”

“Did I disappoint you?” His voice breaks at the last word, fresh tears streaming over his skin. 

You lean forward, kissing his lips gently, then his cheeks. 

He swallows, hiccuping from the sobs he’s trying to fight back. He kisses you back softly, reverently, his hands warm and gentle on your arms and back as he holds you close. 

What the fuck had you got yourself into? 

Thank you for reading!

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i watched sucker punch a few days ago and my new toxic trait is believing i could fix this absolute slimeball of a man

Blue Jones.. I can fix you just give me a chance PLEASE