𐔌 . ⋮ 𝑽𝑨𝑳𝑲𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑬 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ she/her. twnties. you can call me valkyrie or one of the many nicknames like val/ky/kyrie :) garrett and dean pilled but mostly dean. deanallie supremacy. hockey fan irl. in a secret relationship with dean AND allie.
most recent work dean being an eater.
✶ masterlist. ✶ rules (coming soon). ✶ request rules/status. ✶ emoji anons (coming soon). ✶ jack abbot/the pitt side blog.
One subject that’s always on Belmont Cameli’s mind? Orcas. “They have been my favourite animal forever. I follow Instagram accounts that keep live tabs on the Pacific Northwest pods,” he tells us in the new BTB HS1 issue, out later this month. “During the summers in Vancouver for Off Campus, I get to go see them. I know them by name.” interviewed by Tessa Swantek
BELMONT CAMELI for Behind The Blinds photographed by Nino Muñoz, styled by Marco Milani (2026)
i’m creating channels and stuff for the discord server. this is for off campus lovers to discuss the show, our fave characters, send edits, exchange ideas (like writing, etc) and hang out! you can dm me, reply to this post or send me an ask !! ♡ it’s public/welcome for anyone to join, however i ask that you are at least 18 years old !
ur blog is SO cute hello! i wanna collect all da off campus girlies on here
hiii ! thank you so much anon !!! ♡♡ i know, i wanna get together in a group chat or something with off campus girlies sooo bad !! i think i’m going to try and make a gc on discord !
⌗ warnings — smut with no plot, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, dean being a man starved for your pussyyyyy. no seriously i mean this man cannot get enough of you. use of the word ‘cunt’ (my writing, not dean saying it or anything). not proofread! (0.8k words)
⌗ authors note — i hope you guys like this! please let me know your thoughts, reblogs and comments are so helpful and motivating! requests are open for dean as of now <3
the air was thick with smell of sweat and your arousal. dean’s large hands were holding your hips down harshly as his tongue lapped relentlessly at your aching cunt. he had been at this for thirty minutes and there was no sign of him stopping anytime soon. you’d already came twice, but dean didn’t care, he wanted more. the man couldn’t get enough of you. the way you tasted, the way you smelt… fuck, it drove him mad.
“dean…” you whimpered, your fingers sliding into the mop of blonde hair. his nose nudged your pelvis as he sucked your clit into his mouth, a groan escaping his lips and vibrating your core. “that’s it, baby. just let me take care of my girl.” dean mumbled against your clit, tongue messily and lazily licking at your hole. the sounds that filled the room were absolute filth. dean forced your hips deeper into the mattress, holding you in place so he could properly devour you without you trying squirm around too much.
“‘s too much…” you whined, your hand fisting in his hair, your back arching off the mattress. you were sticky with sweat, breath still shaky from previous orgasms. dean’s blue eyes met yours from where he was between your thighs, his mouth still latched onto you. his brows furrowed. “too much? sweetheart, i’m just getting started.” just getting started? was he crazy? what part of this was just — but your thought process was cut short when dean’s tongue plunged inside you. your eyes rolled back, your jaw falling slack.
“there it is.” dean grinned, sucking sweetly at your clit while his tongue thrust in and out of you, your pussy quivering around him. “just let me eat, ‘m hungry.” he murmured, closing his eyes. his cheeks, chin, and lips were drenched with you, your arousal dripping down his chin. “dean, stop.” you gasped, but you didn’t really mean it. the pleasure was just too much for you to handle. “didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to disrupt someone’s meal?” dean groaned between your thighs. his massive, muscular arms wrapping around your thighs, practically gluing you to him.
he’d make you cum several more times before deciding he was finally done and let you relax. but don’t get too comfortable because just a few hours later, he’s wanting more. “please, baby.” his bottom lip stuck out in a pout, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. you hated when he did that, you literally couldn’t tell him no. and god, he looked so hot like that too. he’d smile triumphantly, grabbing your thighs as he laid down on his back, this time bringing you to him so that you’re straddling his face.
his large hands gripping your hips would gently guide you to lower your hips, bringing your already soaked pussy directly to his mouth. dean looked up at you, knowing that seeing him like this between your thighs drove you crazy. your eyes fluttered shut, breath hitching as deans warm mouth covers your cunt. your stomach tensed from the immediate pleasure, hands finding his hair to hold on.
“you taste so good, princess. like heaven.” dean moaned between your legs. fuck, he was too good at this. your hips started rocking against his mouth, your entire body warm and fuzzy with pleasure. “fuck yeah, ride my face, baby.” dean groaned against your pussy, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers spread your lips open further. his hands slid up to your tummy, just wanting to feel your skin beneath his palms. his hands eventually moved up to your breasts, his fingers finding your nipples, pinching and rolling the hard peaks, the pleasure making you buck your hips against his face. “couldn’t believe you made me wait this long to eat again.” dean practically pouted between your legs. made him… wait?! it had only been a few hours since the last time he ate you out, this man was fucking insatiable.
“i know, you poor baby.” you moaned, your head falling back as his tongue flicked against your clit over and over again. his hand landed a sharp smack to your ass, causing you to yelp. the sting of the slap melted into pleasure, your hips twitching against his face. “don’t talk back to me; don’t act like you don’t love this. you love knowing how obsessed i am with you and the way you taste.” and it was true. you loved knowing how obsessed dean was with you and eating your pussy.
within minutes, your vision was blurring, your toes curling as you desperately fucked dean’s face, chasing your orgasm over the edge. a loud cry of pleasure ripped from your throat as you came hard, dean greedily swallowing every last drop of you. you rolled off his face, dropping down onto the bed completely spent and breathing heavily as you attempted to recover. “you did so good for me, baby.” dean praised softly, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “i’m already thinking about my breakfast in the morning.” he smirked. fuck me.
are there any off campus group chats out there? discussing season 1, 2, etc? discussing (and thirsting) over characters? sending writing ideas/thoughts, sending tiktoks??? i need it so bad, should i make one??
EDIT: i made one! let me know if you want to join! its on discord!
summary 𓂃 when you admit you’ve never been on top before, dean decides there’s no better place to learn than his bed.
warnings 𓂃 18+ mdni, explicit smut, established relationship, insecurity, first time riding, protected sex, praise, dirty talk, boob play, clit stimulation, missionary, soft aftercare.
word count 𓂃 3,468.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You'd been pretending to watch the movie for at least fifteen minutes.
Dean had been doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn't staring at you for just as long.
It was a terrible performance on both sides, especially considering the laptop was still playing some action movie at the end of his bed, and neither of you could've named one thing that'd happened in the last ten minutes. You were tucked under his sheets in one of his old Briar shirts, the hem brushing soft against your thighs because your underwear was the only thing you'd bothered putting on after your shower, and Dean was lying beside you with one hand behind his head and the other low on your hip like he was trying very hard to act like a gentleman.
He was trying to behave, which was sweet, really, but not exactly successful.
"You're staring again," you murmured, not even bothering to look away from the screen.
Dean's thumb moved in a slow circle over your hip. "You're in my bed wearing my shirt. You can't really blame me."
"You gave it to me," you pointed out, like that was supposed to make him less smug about it.
"I know." Dean's mouth curved like he'd been waiting for you to say exactly that. "Great decision, honestly."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile breaking through kind of ruined the effect. "You're impossible."
"Yeah." Dean leaned in, his lips brushing your shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. "But you like me anyway."
"Sometimes," you said, though your smile made it sound a lot less convincing.
"Right now?" he asked, his voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.
You turned your head to answer, which was apparently all the invitation Dean needed, because then he was kissing you, slow and warm, one hand sliding up your side beneath the fabric like he'd planned the whole thing. It was easy to melt into Dean like that, a lot easier than you'd ever admit out loud. Dean kissed you like he knew exactly how much time he had, which apparently meant he had no problem spending it dragging every little sound out of you to see how much trouble it got him into.
His fingers slipped beneath the hem of the shirt, warm against your waist in a way that shouldn't have made you gasp as quickly as it did.
Dean smiled against your mouth, entirely too pleased with himself. "There she is."
"Don't start."
"I didn't even say anything."
"You were about to, and we both know it."
He laughed, low and entirely too pleased with himself, before rolling onto his back and tugging you over him like he already knew you'd follow. And you did, because apparently thinking was no longer part of the plan, one knee sliding across his hips until you were straddling his lap.
Then you froze beneath his hands, and Dean felt the change in you immediately.
His hands settled on your waist, thumbs brushing over your sides in a way that was soft enough to make your chest ache a little. "Hey."
You swallowed, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were in his lap with your thighs spread around his hips, his hard length pressing up beneath his sweatpants, and somehow his shirt still covering you didn't make you feel any less exposed.
"This feels like a lot of responsibility," you said, aiming for a joke and landing somewhere embarrassingly close to panic.
Dean's brow lifted like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or be concerned. "Responsibility?"
"I just..." You looked down, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt like that'd somehow make the words easier to get out. "I've never really done this before."
His expression softened, though that amused little spark in his eyes didn't go anywhere. "Been on top?"
Your cheeks warmed, which was annoying because Dean absolutely noticed. "Not really."
"Not really?" Dean repeated, thumbs still brushing over your waist like he was trying very hard not to look too pleased about that.
"Dean," you said, dragging his name out like a warning, even though the warmth in your cheeks made it pretty hard to sound threatening.
He smiled a little, his hands giving your hips a gentle squeeze like he'd decided to behave for once. "Okay. Not really."
"It's not a big deal," you said quickly, which was unfortunate because saying it that fast made it sound like it was definitely a big deal. "I just feel like I'd look stupid, or I wouldn't know what I was doing, and then you'd have to pretend it was hot, which is a very nice boyfriend thing to do, but also something I'd never emotionally recover from."
Dean stared at you for a beat, then laughed in this soft, disbelieving way that only made your face feel warmer. "Baby, I'm hard because you're sitting on my lap in my shirt. You could sneeze right now, and I'd find a way to be into it."
You blinked because, annoyingly enough, it had worked. "That was weirdly comforting."
"I'm great at comfort."
"You're absolutely not."
"I am when you're half-naked on top of me."
You tried to bite back a laugh, but it came out as this breathy little sound instead when Dean's hands guided your hips down, showing you exactly how slowly he wanted you to move over him. The pressure caught against your clit through your underwear, warm and steady enough to make your thighs tense before you could stop them.
Dean's eyes darkened like he'd felt the way your body reacted. "Does that feel good?"
You nodded, your thighs still tense beneath his hands.
His mouth curved. "Words, sweetheart."
"Yes," you breathed, because apparently that was the only word your brain had left to offer.
"There you go," Dean murmured, his voice soft enough to make your stomach flip.
The next kiss was messier, mostly because Dean kept guiding your hips over him like he had all the patience in the world, dragging it out until your underwear was damp, clinging to you, and making it pretty impossible to pretend you weren't affected. At first, the sounds you made were small and half-swallowed against his mouth, but Dean noticed every single one like he'd been waiting for them.
"Don't do that," he murmured.
You blinked at him. "Do what?"
"Hold back." His fingers tightened on your hips like he was making sure you couldn't pretend you didn't know what he meant. "I like hearing you."
Your stomach flipped, which was annoying because Dean absolutely felt it, and then he kissed you again until the friction dragged a moan out of you that you finally let him hear.
Dean groaned, as if he'd heard you'd done something terrible to his self-control.
That helped more than anything else could have.
By the time Dean had pushed his sweatpants down and rolled on a condom, your underwear was shoved to the side, your hands were planted on his chest, and the shirt was still hanging over you like a very pathetic attempt at feeling covered. Dean didn't try to take it off, which somehow made your chest feel tighter. He just held your hips, eyes fixed on your face as he guided himself through your wetness.
"Slow," he murmured. "Take your time."
You lowered yourself carefully, trying to take your time like he'd told you to, but your mouth still fell open the second the head of his cock pressed inside you. The stretch was familiar and different all at once, deeper like this, more intense because you were the one in control, which sounded nice in theory and felt a lot more terrifying with Dean watching your face like that. You sank inch by inch, trying very hard to look like you had any control over yourself, but the second he filled you, your fingers curled against his chest, and a shaky whimper slipped out before you could stop it.
Dean's jaw tightened. "Fuck."
You froze immediately. "Bad?"
His eyes snapped to yours as you'd just said something insane. "Are you joking?"
"You made a face."
"Yeah, baby, because you feel so good, I'm trying not to embarrass myself."
Your cheeks warmed, which was embarrassing enough on its own, but the praise still settled low in your stomach like your body had decided to enjoy it before you could overthink it.
"You're not just saying that?"
Dean's hands slid up your thighs, grounding you in a way that made it annoyingly hard to spiral. "Move once, sweetheart, and see if I sound like I'm lying."
So you did, moving slowly at first.
Your hips lifted, then sank back down, and Dean's head tipped against the pillow with this rough, helpless groan that made it pretty hard to believe he'd been lying about any of it.
"Oh," you breathed, and the second you moved again, it turned into something closer to a moan.
Dean's eyes opened, heavy and dark, like he'd been waiting for exactly that. "Yeah?"
"Feels good," you said, already sounding a little wrecked.
His hands squeezed your thighs. "Then keep going, sweetheart."
Your movements were awkward at first, mostly because your brain wouldn't shut up long enough to let your body figure it out, too busy worrying about the rhythm, whether you were doing enough, and whether you looked ridiculous hovering over him in his shirt with your thighs trembling.
Then Dean's hands tightened on your hips like he could feel you spiraling. "Stop thinking."
"I'm trying."
"No." His voice dropped, rough around the edges but still gentle. "You're trying to look good, which is insane, because you already do. Just move how you want."
The words hit harder than you'd expected, mostly because Dean sounded like he meant them, so you tried to believe him.
You rolled your hips instead of lifting so high, chasing the angle that made your clit catch against him every time you sank back down, and the moan that left you was loud enough to make Dean's cock twitch inside you like he was having a very hard time staying calm about it.
Your eyes flicked to his face, and Dean looked so wrecked that it made it pretty hard to keep worrying about whether you were doing it right.
His lips parted, jaw tense, and his hands kept flexing on your hips like Dean was having the world's hardest time remembering he'd told you to move how you wanted.
"You like this?" you asked, and even though your voice shook, it still came out bolder than before.
Dean laughed once, rough and breathless, as the question had actually offended him. "Like it?" His hips jerked up into you, dragging a gasp out of your mouth. "Baby, I'm trying not to lose my fucking mind."
That did something to you, mostly because Dean sounded like he meant it, and apparently, your body liked knowing you could mess him up that badly.
Your next movement was smoother, more confident, and the moan that came out of you wasn't even close to quiet, which Dean clearly noticed because his hands tightened on your hips immediately.
"Dean—fuck," you moaned, and the way his eyes darkened made it pretty clear he'd liked hearing his name like that.
"That's it," he murmured. "Let me hear you."
You rode him slowly at first, then a little faster once you realized your body had apparently figured out what your brain kept trying to overthink, your hands sliding up his chest as his shirt rode higher over your thighs. Your cunt was soaked around him, every movement making it easier, wetter, and a lot harder to feel shy about, especially when Dean looked down to watch where you were taking him and groaned as he'd just lost whatever was left of his self-control.
"God," he muttered, hands tightening on your hips. "You were worried about this?"
You tried to laugh, but it came out closer to a whimper when he helped you grind down harder. "Maybe."
Dean looked like that answer personally offended him. "You're killing me."
His fingers tugged at the hem of the shirt, and you slowed immediately, like your body had decided to panic before your brain could tell it not to.
Dean noticed immediately, because, of course, he did, his eyes lifting back to yours, as if taking the shirt off suddenly mattered a whole lot less than making sure you were okay. "Can I see you?"
Your stomach fluttered.
His hands rubbed up your thighs, warm and steady. "You can keep it on if you want."
You hesitated for only a second before lifting your arms, which felt a lot braver than it probably looked.
Dean pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside, leaving you in your bra and still moving over him like your body hadn't quite figured out whether to be nervous or proud. His eyes dragged over you slowly, and for once, Dean Di Laurentis had absolutely nothing to say.
That made your chest tighten, mostly because Dean looking at you like that was a lot harder to handle than any stupid comment he could've made. "What?"
His hands slid up your waist, warm and certain. "You're so fucking pretty."
Your breath caught the second his palms covered your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples beneath the thin fabric, and your rhythm faltered immediately, because apparently, Dean touching you there made moving and thinking at the same time impossible.
"Oh—Dean."
His mouth curved, entirely too pleased with himself. "No, don't stop."
"You're distracting me."
"Good." His thumbs circled again, making you clench around him like your body had decided to prove his point. "Keep riding me anyway."
You moaned louder this time, hips rolling as his hands played with your tits through your bra, and every touch made you stutter in a way Dean very clearly noticed. Every bit of praise made you wetter, every look on his face made you a little bolder, until the embarrassment started slipping away as your body had finally decided to stop fighting him.
"Tell me," he said, voice rough. "Tell me what feels good."
You swallowed, still moving over him because apparently stopping would've been the worst idea. "Your hands."
"Yeah?"
"And your cock." Your voice was breathless enough to be embarrassing, but you said it anyway, and Dean's eyes went so dark that it made the embarrassment feel worth it. "Feels good when I move like this."
You rolled your hips harder to show him, and Dean's head dropped back as you'd just ruined him on purpose.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Don't stop doing that."
Hearing Dean sound like that ruined something dangerous to your confidence, mostly because it was a lot harder to feel embarrassed when he sounded like he was the one barely holding it together.
Your hands moved behind your back, unclasping your bra before your brain could show up and ruin the moment. It slipped down your arms and fell somewhere between you, and Dean stared as you'd just done something genuinely unfair to his ability to breathe.
"Look at you," he breathed, and the way he said it made your whole body feel warm.
The words made your chest warm in a way you weren't sure what to do with.
Then his mouth was on you, lips closing around one nipple while his hand covered your other breast, and you cried out so quickly it would've been embarrassing if Dean hadn't groaned like it'd done something to him. Your fingers slid into his hair, hips moving faster now as pleasure started building low in your stomach.
"Dean, I'm—" Your voice fell apart into a whimper when his thumb found your clit, because apparently your body had no interest in letting you finish a sentence. "Oh my god, right there."
"There?" he asked, smug in a way that would've been annoying if he didn't sound so wrecked.
"Yes. Fuck, yes."
He rubbed slow circles over your clit while you rode him, his other hand on your hip and his mouth moving from your breast to your throat like he wasn't already making it impossible to focus. You were close, so close your thighs had started shaking, but the rhythm was getting harder to keep, your moans turning messier and needier as frustration tangled with the pleasure your body kept trying to chase.
Dean caught it instantly, like every little shift in your body was something he'd been waiting for.
"Come here," he murmured.
Before you could even think about arguing, Dean rolled you beneath him and pulled the sheets over both of you, settling between your thighs without slipping out like he'd decided you'd done enough thinking for one night. The new angle made you gasp, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed deeper.
Then Dean caught both your hands and laced your fingers together, pinning them above your head so gently it made your chest ache a little.
Dean kissed you, slow and messy, like he had every intention of making good on that promise. "Let me finish what you started."
"Please," you whispered, and it came out a lot needier than planned, which Dean absolutely noticed.
Dean's expression flickered. Then his hips started moving. Slow, deep, steady thrusts that had you moaning into the space between you, thighs locked around his waist, your hands crossed with his over your head. The sheets tangled around your legs, heat building under the blanket, his body heavy and warm over yours.
"You did so well," he murmured, his mouth brushing your jaw like he knew exactly how badly the praise was getting to you. "Looked so fucking good on top of me."
"Dean," you whimpered.
"I know." His hips rolled deeper, pulling your back into an arch. "I've got you."
His hand slipped between your bodies again, thumb finding your clit like he already knew exactly what you needed, and your whole body tightened around him.
"Oh—fuck, don't stop," you gasped, which was probably unnecessary considering Dean looked like stopping would've killed him.
He groaned anyway. "Wasn't planning on it."
The pleasure snapped through you suddenly, hot and sharp, and your moan broke against Dean's mouth as you came around him. Your thighs locked around his waist, fingers tightening in his above your head like you needed something to hold onto while your body shook beneath him.
Dean followed right after, his thrusts going uneven as he'd finally lost the last of his control, face buried in your neck as a rough groan broke out of him while he held you close and came.
For a while, neither of you moved, both of you too warm and tangled beneath the sheets to do anything other than breathe.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah."
His grin appeared slowly, which was never a good sign. "So."
"No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was just gonna say you're definitely not bad at being on top."
Your face warmed, and you turned it into the pillow like that might somehow save you. "You're so annoying."
"And you were so loud."
"Dean."
"I liked it," he said, kissing your cheek like he hadn't just made you want to disappear into the mattress. "A lot."
You tried to glare, but it came out pretty weak, especially when he slipped out carefully and disappeared to clean up like he hadn't just ruined your ability to function. When he came back, he helped clean you with a warm towel, gentle when your thighs twitched, before pulling his shirt back over your head as it belonged there.
"Putting me back in this?" you asked, glancing down at the shirt.
"Obviously." Dean climbed into bed beside you and pulled you into his chest, looking far too pleased with himself. "It's my new favorite thing now."
You laughed softly, settling against him while his arm wrapped around you like he had no plans of letting you go anytime soon.
For a minute, Dean only rubbed slow circles over your back like he was trying to make sure you'd fully melted into him. Then his voice came again, softer this time, though obviously still teasing because it was Dean.
"So..." His mouth brushed your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice before he even finished. "You wanna do that again sometime?"
You pinched his side, which only made him laugh because apparently even that wasn't enough to make him less pleased with himself.
Dean laughed and pulled you closer, sounding far too pleased with himself for someone who'd just been pinched. "I'll take that as a yes."
You get too distracted with Garrett Graham’s chain while he’s fucking you ⋆ mdni, female reader, unprotected sex, teasing.
─────
The room was humid and hot, too hot, and the air smelled faintly of sex, sweat and his cologne. His room was dark, except for the low golden light coming from the single lamp on his nightstand.
A calloused hand traveled around your body until it settled on the flesh of your hip, lifting it slightly so he could sink himself deeper into your warmth.
“Fuck, Garrett—” you gasped, eyebrows furrowing as your manicured nails dug into the muscles of his back, right over his tattoo.
He smirked. “Yeah?”
Damn him.
His face hovered above yours, dark curls damp with sweat falling across his forehead. That lazy smile played on his mouth as he watched you fall apart, purely from the slow roll of his hips, the burn and the stretch of his cock sliding easily in and out of your pussy, again and again.
And if that wasn’t enough, the thin, golden chain dangling between you, swinging with every thrust while catching the lamplight, made your stomach curl. Now, you couldn’t stop staring at it, the way it moved back and forth, brushing against your breasts each time he sank deep.
“Baby,” he rasped, voice laced with amusement. “You’re gettin’ fuckin’ distracted again.”
Your mouth opened to answer, but the words died in your throat as Garrett punctuated them with a cruel roll of hips, dragging the thick, leaking head of his cock along that spongy spot inside you. Immediately, your back arched, and anything you were about to say gets replaced by an embarrassingly loud moan.
“I—I’m not,” you breathed out, eyes still glued to the swinging chain.
“Yeah? you sure?” Garrett laughed, low and dangerous in that way that made you dizzy. He dipped lower, close enough for you to feel the three day stubble on his defined jaw scratch your cheek, close enough for the cool metal of the chain to brush against your nipple. Your breath hitched. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” He drawled against your earlobe.
You tried to answer. You really did. But what came out was barely a word, and more like… a strangled noise, and the fact that his cock was throbbing right inside you, coated with your arousal, stuffing you full with every thrust, letting you feel every ridge and vein along his length. Fuck, it didn’t help at all.
And he noticed it, of course.
“Shit, don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid.”
“Jesus, shut up,” you choked out, tightening your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he was.
“Oh, so she talks.” The hand on your hip suddenly disappeared, sliding south, lower, and lower. All while that annoying smirk never seemed to leave his face.
“Don’t—” A borderline pornographic moan tore from your lips as the rough pad of Garrett’s thumb drew lazy, effortless circles on your swollen clit. “Don’t— get so cocky.”
“Me? Baby—”
But before he could finish another arrogant remark, your trembling fingers reached up to wrap around the cool, golden chain. Desperate, you tugged hard on it, pulling him down until his chapped lips met yours. His hips faltered for a split second, and a groan rumbled from his chest as he kissed you back. The kiss was raw, messy, and intense. The back of his neck burned from the pressure of the chain, your grip was something, and he was sure it would leave a mark.
A deep, sore, red line that he’d make you kiss better later in the shower, because he was definitely nowhere near done with you.
After yet another horrible date leaves you stranded, you call your best friend, Garrett Graham, for help. Now, if only Garrett can convince you that he’s the right guy for you, after all…
Feeling flows both ways | @mutantvampireearthquake
You surprise your boyfriend after a big win
Jeep | @bitchinbarzal
garrett loves his car, garrett also loves you. you wrecked his car.
Awaited Moments | @g0ldendesiree
garrett finally decided he’s done with your game of cat and mouse, the only thing standing in front of him? a football player who’s name you can’t even remember.
Problem | @/g0ldendesiree
when garrett finds out about a problem you’ve been having,what kind of friend would he be to not help you?
Play Pretend | @/g0ldendesiree
the boundaries blur between fake dating and what’s real when garrett gets jealous.
BREAKFAST SOUP | @edawgz
Garrett Graham loves that you’re an academic weapon. Well… he loves it until finals week rolls around and suddenly your textbooks are your first love.
mr. perfect | @aliahsarchives
when you’re partnered up with a football player for a class project, garrett can’t help but want you in his sights 24/7.
girls in matching yoga sets don't play | @grahamsangel44
Between Sets | @theunwrittenmoments
You agreed to start going with Garrett to the gym because between hockey practice, games and your work schedule, you have limited time together. Garrett spends the entire time watching you instead of his own training plan before his jealousy gets the best of him.
Fall into you | @girlontheruin
after a nasty fall on the ice, you return many months later to find out a certain hockey player’s stolen your usual slot. Where in Garrett Graham collides with you and your whole world falls down.
Garrett Graham x Figure Skater!Reader
Heating Pad & Hockey Boyfriend | @andy-15-07
PROFESSOR’S DAUGHTER | @darkkdamsel00
Garrett Graham, Briar’s star hockey player, breaks every rule he’s ever had when he falls hard for his strict literature professor’s daughter.
edge of the earth | @finelinevogue
the off campus house is having a party but you're not feeling it. luckily your boyfriend lives there and so you retreat to his bedroom (your safe space)
garrett graham one shot | @kooksandpearls
Laundry Day… | @grahamsangel44
Perfect For Me | @jaylalolz
you lose your virginity to the Garrett Graham.
breaking point, part two | @pucksandpower
Garrett is supposed to hate you by association. You’re dating his rival. You’re wearing the wrong colors. But he doesn’t look at you like you’re the enemy, he looks at you like he’s seeing something everyone else has learned to ignore. And when you run out of places to hide, his number is the only one you can think to call
Caught Looking | @/andy-15-07
Study Date Disaster | @/andy-15-07
spin me in circles | @/finelinevogue
it's your birthday and your boyfriend won't stop kissing you for more than a minute. safe to say, he's obsessed with you.
Off The Market (Current Boyfriend Trend) | @/theunwrittenmoments
When you stumble across the current boyfriend trend on TikTok, you and Allie decide it’s the perfect opportunity to prank your boyfriends. They didn’t find it nearly as funny as you did. Garrett’s response though? That was unexpected.
𐙚 Beau Maxwell
Bad Idea Right? | @/g0ldendesiree
what's the worst thing that could happen when you start seeing your brothers best friend?
Little Black Dress | @/g0ldendesiree
beau knows the rules, but that doesn’t stop him when someone else tries hitting on you.
i am just seeing this now omg ????? this is so sweet, thank you, angel, so much for recommending one of my fics !!!!! this is such an amazing rec list with so many amazing writers <3333
dean is literally the type to deliberately grind his pelvis against your clit whenever he thrusts into you. he is so in tune to your body and the external workings of it, he pays attention to literally everything. he notices the second a position/spot feels better for you, he loves watching you squirm beneath him as his pelvis rubs your aching clit. his face analyzes yours, watching for any signs of discomfort, and again, if he notices a spot that he hits that makes you moan louder, he’s making it a mission to hit that spot over and over again, he literally just wants to please you/make you feel good.