HATE YOU FOR YOU.
EXTREMELY EXPLICIT SMUT.
now, enjoy
REQUESTED BY: @glitterunicorndoll
the rivalry between you and jordan huxhold burned with unrelenting ferocity, a constant clash of wills in the unforgiving arena of los angeles high fashion. his golden blonde hair, thick and lustrous with sun kissed strands that fell in tousled waves across his forehead, framed a face of sharp symmetry, dominated by those icy blue eyes that pierced with contemptuous precision. his body was an instrument of lethal allure, tall and powerfully proportioned, broad shoulders tapering into a narrow, defined waist, every muscle carved with disciplined elegance from rigorous sessions that honed his physique into something both aesthetic and commanding. pectorals firm and sculpted, abdomen a ridged expanse of taut strength, arms corded with lean power, and legs long and athletic, all radiating an arrogance that fueled your hatred.
you despised him, the way he commandeered every room with effortless dominance, his articulate barbs slicing through conversations like a well honed blade. encounters on set were battlegrounds, his blue eyes narrowing as he critiqued your vision with that smooth, cultured voice, golden blonde locks catching the studio lights while his body moved with predatory grace beneath tailored fabrics that clung to the contours of his chest and the subtle flex of his obliques. “your composition lacks depth,” he would drawl, voice rich with disdain, muscles shifting visibly as he adjusted his pose, veins tracing along his forearms in a display you refused to acknowledge as anything but infuriating.
the hatred simmered hotter during late night campaigns and shared industry obligations, where proximity forced confrontation. his presence invaded your space, the heat of his skin nearly tangible, that golden blonde hair slightly disheveled from hours under hot lights, blue eyes locked in challenge. arguments escalated with sharp vocabulary and cutting observations, each of you dismantling the other’s facade without mercy. there was no softening, no bridge of understanding, only the raw edge of mutual loathing that twisted into something darker, more primal, during a rain drenched evening when tensions finally detonated in his minimalist downtown loft.
words flew like daggers, accusations sharp and unyielding, until the air thickened with something far more volatile than anger. he advanced, towering over you, golden blonde hair damp from the storm and clinging to the strong line of his jaw, blue eyes blazing with fury and undisguised hunger. “you infuriate me beyond measure,” he growled, voice articulate and low, before seizing control in a collision of bodies driven by pure enmity. clothes tore away in hasty aggression, revealing the full magnificence of his form, skin golden and smooth, every inch a testament to masculine perfection that only deepened your resentment for how it affected you.
his hands gripped with bruising intensity, large palms mapping your curves as if claiming territory in battle, fingers digging into flesh while his mouth descended with punishing kisses that bruised and demanded submission. you fought back equally, nails raking down the expanse of his chest, feeling the hard planes of his pectorals contract under your touch, nipples tightening as his breath hitched in a mix of pain and dark pleasure. jordan huxhold’s body was a landscape of exquisite detail, shoulders wide and powerful, biceps flexing with corded strength as he pinned you against the wall, abdomen tightening to reveal the sharp definition of his six pack, each ridge deepening with every controlled breath.
he lifted you effortlessly, muscles in his arms and back rippling with controlled power, carrying you to the bed where he dropped you without ceremony. hovering above, his golden blonde hair fell forward in a messy curtain, framing those intense blue eyes that bored into yours with unfiltered contempt and lust. his cock stood heavy and thick, veined and flushed with arousal, the broad head glistening as it brushed against your thigh, a weapon in this war of bodies. slowly, deliberately, he dragged the length along your slick folds, teasing with agonizing precision, drawing out the torment as his vocabulary flowed in husky whispers. “feel every inch of what you pretend to despise,” he murmured, voice rich and eloquent even in this haze of hatred.
the penetration came in a single powerful thrust, stretching you with burning fullness, his girth filling you completely as his hips snapped forward. jordan’s body was a study in motion, back muscles flexing into deep valleys as he drove deeper, obliques and abdomen contracting with each relentless stroke. you clawed at his shoulders, feeling the sweat slick skin, the way his golden blonde strands stuck to his neck and forehead from exertion, blue eyes half lidded yet locked on your face, drinking in every expression of conflicted pleasure. he set a punishing rhythm, hips rolling with expert control, angling to hit every sensitive depth, prolonging the onslaught as waves of sensation built without mercy.
time stretched in this drawn out encounter, his movements varying from deep, grinding circles that pressed his pelvis against your most sensitive spots to sharp, punishing thrusts that made the bed frame protest. descriptive focus lingered on the details of his physique, the prominent v lines at his hips guiding the eye to where your bodies joined, the flex of his powerful thighs as he powered forward, calves taut with effort. his pectorals hovered close, nipples brushing your skin with each downward stroke, chest heaving as articulate groans escaped him, laced with insults and dark praise. “hate how perfectly you take me,” he rasped, golden blonde hair brushing your cheek as he leaned in to bite at your neck, leaving marks of possession born from enmity.
you reversed positions in a surge of defiance, straddling him and sinking down onto his throbbing length, taking control to ride with furious intensity. hands planted on his firm chest, you felt his heart pounding beneath the sculpted muscle, abs tightening into rigid lines as he thrust up to meet you, matching your aggression. his blue eyes never wavered, stormy with loathing and raw need, golden blonde locks splayed wildly across the pillow, damp with sweat that traced paths down his temples and along the column of his throat. every roll of your hips drew elongated moans from him, his large hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise, guiding yet battling for dominance.
the encounter extended endlessly, shifting through positions that showcased his physical prowess. turned on your side, he entered from behind, one strong arm hooked under your knee to spread you wider, allowing deeper, more invasive thrusts while his other hand roamed, pinching and stroking with calculated precision. his chest pressed flush to your back, sweat slicking the contact, muscles undulating with power. then bent over the edge of the bed, he took you with long, dragging strokes, hips snapping forward as his golden blonde hair fell over his eyes, blue gaze visible through the strands, focused entirely on the way your body yielded despite the hatred.
descriptions of his form consumed the prolonged union, the way veins stood prominent along his forearms and biceps as he braced himself, the subtle play of light on his sweat glistened skin highlighting every cut of muscle, the heavy weight of his balls slapping rhythmically against you with each thrust. he edged the pleasure deliberately, slowing to near stillness to grind deep and circular, whispering articulate taunts about your responses, then accelerating into a frenzy that built the coil tighter. his cock pulsed inside you, thick and unrelenting, stretching and filling with every motion, the head dragging along inner walls in exquisite friction.
orgasm crashed through you first in shattering waves, body clenching around him as he continued his assault, prolonging your release until you trembled. only then did jordan allow his own climax, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural, eloquent groan, golden blonde hair thrown back as his neck arched, blue eyes squeezing shut in intense release while his body shuddered, muscles locking in powerful spasms, spilling deep with hot pulses that seemed endless.
even in the aftermath, enmity lingered, bodies entangled yet minds unyielding, no comfort offered, only the heavy breathing and silent acknowledgment of this volatile battlefield. the night stretched with further clashes of flesh, his body an endless source of detailed fascination and resentment, golden strands and piercing eyes fueling the cycle of hatred laced with carnal intensity. this pure adversarial dynamic repeated in imagined endless chapters, each encounter more protracted and descriptively vivid than the last, a hundred thousand words of articulate tension and physical exploration centered on the magnetic repulsion that defined you and jordan huxhold.
