#SHE SEND ME A PICTURE OF THE PAPER

[bearyyayay]

I WROTE A STORY ABOUT LIKE WHAT IF SAM DIDNT MAKE IT FOR CHAPTER TRIP TO THE COUNTRY BUT I WROTE IT ON PAPER FIRST. LATER ON I ASKED MY ENGLISH TEACHER OF SHE COULD PROOFREAD IT AND SHE SAID YES

[myokk]

70s au

[doctorbeans]

i cant tell my editor for my school paper is just naturally sweet or if shes being extra extra sweet to me but she keeps telling me how much she likes my writing and keeps asking me to join the staff or take her job once shes graduated 🥺 shes started checking up on me randomly which she never used to do its really nice…

[joelsdagger]

that’s the way road dogs do it || one

joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this one is a little wild; part two is already shaping up to be even more wild. many smooches to my beloveds: @pedrospatch for all the reassurance and support and for beta’ing this bad boy for me, and to @dinandwhiskey for screaming with me about this idea many many moons ago <33

pairing: ex-boyfriend’s dad!joel x f!reader summary: on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past. warnings: [no-outbreak au], big girthy age gap [reader is in her 20’s, joel is 50’s], alcohol consumption, allusions to cheating [not by joel or reader], no sarah or ellie but joel has a son, joel has tattoos and is a biker, pet names [darlin’, baby, kiddo], sexualization of the term kiddo [from the deepest darkest pits of my soul…idfc], a little bit of humiliation, panty sniffing, a teensy bit of fingering, a little manhandling, pervy!joel [he’s also a little fucked up and really unhinged but so am i so whateva], pussy pronouns, dirty talk [umm it gets weird lol], daddy kink, degradation, semi-public sex, rough unprotected p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, dubcon [joel takes pictures of her that she doesn’t verbally consent to], smidgen of angst [ofc bc it’s me], creampie, body marking/writing [use of a pen], soft!joel, reader wears a skirt, has hair, wears makeup, and has two tattoos that are described within the story word count: 8.6k

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for fic updates!

Bad Habits is the bar where you spend every Friday night after work with your friends. It’s always too loud and too bright for your liking. But they serve good booze for a reasonable price and it’s on the way back from your office. Your Friday night usual; stopping at the bar with some friends from work before you bore yourself to sleep by looking over briefings and finalizing notes you need to send over to your boss in time for Monday’s nine am meeting.

You excuse yourself from the booth and head for the bar, plopping yourself on the velvet cushion of a creaky bar stool as you set your purse on the sticky bartop, ordering yourself another drink. Your phone chimes, and you sigh as you pull it out of your purse along with a pen and notepad, knowing it’s an email with a list of requests from your boss. He did tell you he’d send it to you before the end of the night. 

It’s when one of your hands is pressed to your temple, the other scribbling down your boss’ requests on paper when you hear it — a low, gravelly Southern drawl, a voice laced with honey — that you thought you’d never hear again. 

“This seat taken?”

Your pen freezes for a moment; you could pick that voice out of a suspect line-up. It never left you. But you willingly ignore him and decide you’re going to have a little fun of your own with him, so you continue finalizing your thoughts on paper as he situates himself beside you and orders a glass of whiskey while he’s at it. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ sittin’ in a place like this all by herself?” 

“I’m not alone. My friends are over there,” you throw your thumb, pen in hand, over your shoulder, jutting to your booth. “Just needed another drink,” you say, your eyes never leaving the notepad. 

“Why won’t you let me see your face, darlin?” he asks, head tilting to the side, assessing you. 

You snort. “Why. So you can decide whether or not my face is pretty enough to fuck — Mr. Miller?” Your voice drops an octave at the end of the sentence. 

You finally turn your head so you’re face to face with the man beside you, the father of your ex-boyfriend. 

Surprise flashes across his face; his mouth hangs agape briefly before he shuts it tightly. You watch as the Adam’s apple bops slowly in his throat. For once, the father of your shit-eating, cheating ex-boyfriend doesn’t have a comeback. He clears his throat as he attempts to recover. 

“Didn’t realize it was you, darlin’,” he says gruffly, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. 

You chuckle to yourself a little. “Of course you didn’t. The last time we saw each other was what? A year ago? Maybe more?” you quip. 

“You look different,” he says matter-of-factly, eyes glossing over your figure so quick you almost miss it. 

You raise an eyebrow at him; the corner of your mouth kicks up as you tilt the rim of your glass to your lips, hiding your smirk behind a sip.

“Good. I mean — you look good,” he tips his glass on its heel, eyeing it as he toys with it. 

You tilt your head in a shrug, “I needed a change.”

After Joel Miller’s son cheated on you and broke your heart, after you let the hurt linger for a few weeks and told your sob story to your friends who happily listened, you took their advice. 

You need something new, something fresh, babe. 

It really does help.

You’ll feel like a whole new person. 

Trust me, it’ll be good for you. 

You dyed your hair a few times, until you found a shade that felt more you. You got yourself a whole new wardrobe, something a little less fucking prudish and a little more slutty, and despite the cliché of it all, their suggestions did help to leave that shy, agreeable girl in the dust. The breakup was the last push you needed to leave it all behind. 

And now here you are, a little over a year later, sitting beside your ex’s father, whom you once hated to admit to yourself — no, you never really admitted it to yourself, but you found him attractive. Fuck. Who were you kidding? You didn’t just find Joel Miller, the father of your ex-boyfriend, attractive; you found yourself wanting to open your legs for him more than you did for his son, whom you had been dating for eight months. 

His eyes fall to your chest, trailing down the low cut of your top, and fixating on the peaks of your nipples beneath the tight fabric, and your heart stutters. “Quite the change,” a hint of a glint swimming in his hazel eyes. 

You can’t say the same for him.

You take him in now; he looks almost exactly the same, apart from a few more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. Still, he’s somehow more handsome. 

His tousled salt-and-pepper hair still sits messily on his head, though his beard is lined with more silver than you remember. 

Fuck. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes trail down his body, thick shoulders and thick arms deliciously clad in his black leather jacket, and beneath that, his white t-shirt pulls taut across his broad chest.  

 And oh. 

Joel’s head turns, peering over his shoulder at the sound of glass breaking. Your eyes flick back up and catch a curl of black ink on the tanned skin beneath his collar. That’s new. 

When he turns back, he raises the glass to his lips with a scoff, clouding the inside of it, and the dim light from above the bar catches on the square face of a gold band on his marked pinkie finger. That’s also new. Your eyes don’t miss that his fourth finger still remains devoid of a wedding ring. 

“I have your son to thank for that." You drop your phone, pen, and notepad into your purse, giving him your full attention.

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. Flicks his tongue across his bottom lip before he bites it. Is it a show of anger? Disappointment? You’re not quite sure.

But there is one thing that you are sure of: Joel Miller liked having you around. You knew it. You were aware that his eyes lingered whenever he saw you. You caught it from the very first time. When you showed up at his house, in jeans that clung to you like skin, how you bent at the waist to fish your keys out of his sofa cushion, and in your periphery, caught the subtle tilt of his head to get a better look at how the denim hugged your ass just right, feeling his eyes boring into you, your skin sizzling with heat.

If you’re being honest, you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty or shameful for how Joel looked at you. You basked in how he made you feel; you certainly weren’t getting that kind of attention from his son. He had his eyes (and his dick) on someone else. 

You liked how that very last night you spent at Joel Miller’s house — a fortnight before you broke up with his son — you padded down the hallway to the bathroom in an old skirt that you had outgrown (wearing it only because it was the last of clean bottoms before laundry day), and you overheard Joel Miller in his bedroom, fucking his fist and coming with a gruff groan of your name on his lips.  

You just weren’t sure if he knew that you knew.  

His body twists, props a leg up on the footrest of your bar stool. “What happened between you two? He never talked about it,” he inquires. 

You scoff. “He gets that from you, you know, not talking about things. Think he knows it too.” 

Confusion floods his features. 

Your eyes drop to the inside of your glass. “Your divorce. Jason complained all the time about how neither of you talked about it.”

“There was nothin’ to talk about. She left,” he quips. 

“She cheated on you,” you retort. 

“How did–” 

“He knew, and he watched when you didn’t fight it. Think that’s why he did the same to me.” 

“That kid. Always fucking trouble,” he huffs, then takes a short sip. 

 “Hey, you raised him,” you joke. 

“I didn’t raise him to be a piece of shit,” he bites, shakes his head instantly, eyes meeting yours, and there’s something behind them that you can’t quite place yet.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I just—" You sigh exasperatedly, “I think seeing how you didn’t fight for your marriage, for your wife, messed with him. And as much as I hate him for getting his dick wet in another girl, I think... well, now I know why he did it." Right shoulder tips in a slight shrug. 

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. 

“What?” you ask. 

 “Nothin'—I didn’t expect I’d ever hear you say that.”

 You look at him pointedly. 

 “Gettin’ his dick wet,” he repeats. “I’m not used to hearing you say things like that s’all,” he says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head a little. 

You sigh. “Told you, heartbreak is a hell of a thing.” 

“You didn’t deserve that darlin’, M’sorry,” he soothes. He leans towards you, a heavy hand dropping to your bare thigh, fingers wrapping tightly around it. It takes everything in you not to squeeze your thighs shut at his touch. 

You avert your eyes, scanning the crowd in the bar, your eyes eventually landing on your friends all crammed in the booth before looking back at Joel. “Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” 

His head dips, eyebrows go up in surprise, his expression a slight mixture of shock and guilt. “You really believe that?” 

You flash him a soft smile. You’re not sure that you do, but selfishly, it’s easier than the truth, and whatever it was, you’re not concerned about it anymore. “It’s fine, Mr. Miller, honestly," you clarify. 

His calloused thumb rubs small circles on your thigh; heat radiates there. “How many times, I gotta tell you, it’s Joel,” he insists.

Your eyes roll, “alright. Joel, it’s fine. I’m much happier now.”

“Oh yeah?" His hand releases your thigh; your body feels like it’ll wilt without the heat of his touch. His arms cross over as he leans forward on the bartop. The cuff of his left sleeve raises, revealing ink curling around his wrist. Did he complete his sleeve? You swallow thickly, your eyes lingering. 

"Got yourself a new boyfriend?’” He asks. 

You finally peel your eyes away, arching your brow. “What makes you say that?” 

His boot brushes against your bare ankle as he turns towards you; electricity sparks up your leg and up the base of your spine, awakening a long-dormant need. “Nothin’, just reckon that a pretty thing like yourself has a new stupid college fella.”

You chuckle. “I don’t date, it's not worth my time anymore.” You take a swig of your drink, swallow the tang down, and it mixes with the lick of heat, slowly spreading its way into your veins. You’re trying to tame the surge of energy zipping through your body, but it’s so damn hot beneath the lights lining the bar. And the chatter buzzing around the room, coupled with the weight of Joel’s gaze, isn’t fucking helping. It’s overwhelming, the nerves and arousal taking over, lacing with the alcohol in your system.

“That so?” His voice is a low rumble, dangerous. The corners of his lips twitch; your eyes dart down to them. 

You set your glass down on the dark wood with a clink, and your fingers begin tracing the rim of the glass. “And you?” Your body is warm and humming, something churning deep in your core.

His hazel eyes slowly rake down your body, a hint of hunger in them as they pause at the hem of your skirt, barely covering the place where you need him most; your skin is on fire under the heat of his gaze, and for a moment you have to resist the urge not to pounce on him right there in a bar full of people.

His voice cuts through your reverie as he answers. “Not in the cards for me, darlin’,” his eyes crease before he tips the glass to his lips.

“Guess we got one thing in common,” you sigh and mirror him. 

His eyes never leave yours as he takes a sip, and your chest blooms. Black takes up the hazel hues in his eyes, full of lust, and you think back to all the times you’ve had his attention; only now it’s worse because you can act on it. And maybe it’s the liquid courage in your blood. Maybe it’s some stroke of desire for revenge. Maybe it’s just that — desire. Maybe it’s because you know him. Know by all those times you racked up in your brain of longing stares and fleeting tugs of every nerve of your body.

So you think, with the very obvious throbbing in your core, with desire turning molten and pooling between your thighs that you can no longer ignore, that now is your chance; you’ve got nothing holding either of you back this time.

“You want to get out of here?” Your eyes fall down his body and bite your lip as you take in his broad form again. 

He chuckles darkly. “Can’t leave my crew, sweetheart,” he juts his chin towards an area behind you. Your body twists, and laughter threatens to bubble in your chest when you spot them. Three men, all silver-haired and scruffy beards that cover surly faces, all clad in tethered leather jackets, sit in a corner towards the back of the bar. 

You turn back to Joel with a hint of smirk on your lips. “Aren’t you getting a little old to still be biking around? Shouldn't fossils be encased or padded up or something? You know as they age they don't hold up very well,” you tease. 

He bares his teeth with a crooked grin; the corners of his eyes crease. “Careful, kiddo,” voice a low warning, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind it.

You knock back the rest of your drink swiftly, ignoring how it burns the back of your throat. “Well, that’s too bad,” you start. Driven by the alcohol coursing through your burning veins and the painful ache at the apex of your thighs, your left hand grabs his, rested beneath the bar, and guides it under your skirt and towards your dripping sex. He stiffens, inhaling sharply through his nose as he feels the way the wet fabric clings to the lips of your pussy. You bring your lips to the shell of his ear and drop your voice to make it more deep and velvety — more enticing. “She’s already wet.”

You drop his hand and hop off the barstool and onto wobbly legs, your right hand looping your crossbody over your shoulder, and before your leg even brushes past his, his hand snaps out and wraps around your wrist, dwarfing it in his grasp. 

Without another word, he tugs you behind him, past your table of friends, all too loud and too drunk celebrating the end of another work week to notice the two of you sauntering by. He drags you down the dimly lit hall, and you’re biting your bottom lip, containing the smile that threatens to spread across your face as he shoves you into the bathroom. 

Within seconds, he’s on you, pressing into you so your back slams into the tethered wooden door. Your hands find his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands streaked with gray.

And with his mouth flush with yours, the taste of whiskey and cheap cigars is warm on your tastebuds, and you cannot get enough of it. You've dreamt of what he'd taste like for so long, and it's everything you've ever wanted. His tongue is heavy and hot as he pushes it into your mouth, swirling it around and cutting across your gums, leaving no inch of your mouth uncharted. It’s all rushed and sloppy and hungry, and very quickly does it become clear to you that he’s wanted this — wanted you, just as much as you had from the very beginning. 

Somewhere in the heady haze, you manage to remove your left hand from his dark curls, drifting it south behind your back to slide the greasy lock shut behind you, sealing your fate. 

The sound of the lock clicking in place has Joel maneuvering you towards the sink, your heels scraping against the tile as the both of you drift backwards, tongues still intertwined. 

Your hands fumble with his belt, and at the same time, your mouth skates down his neck, tongue darting out and lapping at the inked skin there. You hum at the taste of warm, salty sweat. As you try to drag the leather out from his silver buckle, you move to drop to your knees. You don’t even get halfway before he’s reaching for your wrists, pulling you back up to stand. “‘S much as I’d like that kiddo, I've been waitin’ too long to get inside this cunt,” he says bluntly, and then he’s taking a step forward, trapping you against the cold ceramic. “If m’gonna come, s'gonna be inside o' her.” 

Your stomach flips at his words, and you can’t deny that the use of that word again makes you want to drop to your knees for him twofold. Instead, Joel drops to one of his, grunting as his denim-clad knee hits the cold tile, and it’s what he does next that manages to shatter all essence of confidence you had tonight.

Joel flicks up your skirt with one large hand while the other grips the back of one of your thighs, and one of your hands finds one of his shoulders, fingers already clinging onto him for dear life as you try to anchor yourself. You’re throbbing for him as his hand drifts north to cup your sex through your damp panties; he tears his gaze away to peer up at you. “How many dicks has this pussy taken since my son?” 

His words strike you hard, and your blood runs as cold as ice. Your breath kicks out of your lungs. That was the last thing you expected him to say. Despite the fact Joel’s eyes often lingered and his breath often wavered in your presence, he always managed to compose himself. You never imagined he'd act on those impulses.

“I–I don’t–” you blink a few times, your brain malfunctioning, trying to find the words. 

“How many,” he taunts, his fingers prod at your lace-covered slit, his thumb applying pressure to your clit through your underwear. 

“I– I don’t know. I can’t remember,” you whisper.

Joel sniggers. “I figured. She’s just a little pocket pussy for us, ain’t she?” A shiver runs up your spine, and he watches you, hazel eyes glimmering in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom, gauging your reaction for a tell, a tick, something, that’ll give him a reason to stop. When you don’t, his head dips down between your thighs, and his strong nose presses up against the damp stain on the front of your skimpy black thong, which was doing a rather poor job of covering your cunt. His eyes close slowly, and he inhales. Long and hard, so hard you can feel his nostrils contracting against you as he breathes in your scent. And it’s not your fault a measly whimper spills from your lips when he does so. 

“This all for me now?” He coaxes, his fingers strumming up and down your slit through the lace. Words fail you as you look down and find his eyes already on yours. You nod once for him. 

“Words, darlin’,” his voice dark, thick fingers shifting your panties aside, exposing you to the cold air and spreading your soft folds apart, toying with your wetness. 

Oh fuck, sneaks past your lips in a whisper, and one of your arms snaps out behind you, hand wrapping around the edge of the sink.  

He tilts his head up, and your eyes fixate on his middle finger that reads, clutch, as the tip pokes into your aching hole. "S’this what you wanted? You oughta ask for it, pretty girl.”

“I want you. Fuck– I want you to fuck me, Joel.” You choke out. 

“Attagirl,” he starts, knees cracking as he stands. “Bend over ‘n let me see her up close this time,” he says with a smirk. 

You obey, and turn to drop your purse beside the sink before placing your hands on the wet countertop. But your eyes don’t find your own reflection in the mirror. Instead, they fall on Joel’s movements behind you and gulp down the near-pathetic excitement and nerves sizzling over you. Joel’s too entranced by the sight before him to pick up how your breath hitches in your throat when his calloused hands push your skirt over the curve of your ass and up to your waist. His sly smirk kicks into a low chuckle as he catches sight of your tattoo on your left ass cheek that reads, daddy’s girl.

You go perfectly still, and a firm hand between your shoulders pushes you forward, your upper body now parallel to the dark countertop. Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, but you can still hear the low whistle he sings from behind you. And then–

“Jesus,” he breathes as he pauses and marvels at you, his gaze shifting up and down your form, goosebumps erupting across your skin as the knuckle of his index finger traces down the small of your back, cold metal from the ring on his pinkie grazes the meat of your ass by happenstance. “Pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” 

And it’s almost like he can’t believe he’s here — with you, thirty years his junior, and his son’s ex-girlfriend, in a bar bathroom, about to ruin not only you but every other woman for himself for the rest of his life.

The liquid courage must’ve kicked into overdrive because you don’t know what compels you to do it, but before you can stop yourself, you call out his name–

“Joel.”

His dark eyes flit upwards to meet yours in the mirror. 

“You gonna stand there and stare all night, or you gonna fill her up?” But the tone of your voice doesn’t make it sound at all like a question, and you don’t mean it to be. 

That seems to pull him back. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ Christ, I didn’t think you’d be this filthy.”

His reaction manages to bring back your confidence, and your lips curl in turn. 

Joel doesn’t waste anymore time. You feel the rough drag of denim against the back of your thighs and hear the metallic clang of his belt and the buzz of his zipper as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans. When he hooks a thick finger underneath your panties, tugging them to the side and over one cheek, you can’t help but clench, and Joel definitely doesn’t miss it. 

He tuts. “Needy little thing too,” he grips his length, thick and heavy in his hand, and lines up the blunt cockhead with your throbbing hole; it winks at him. “Tiny hole’s begging for me to fuck her, ain’t she? Look at her flirtin’ with me,” Joel gloats. 

And the sane part of you wants to cringe at that, but your cunt betrays you and clenches around terrible emptiness again. Joel doesn’t wait for you to respond; his eyes flicker back down to your hole, pushing the wide head of his cock inside, and that spark from earlier ignites. 

“Oh, Christ,” he exhales, his jaw falling loose and eyes going hooded as he enters your warm, wet cunt. You gasp as your own eyes fall shut at the stretch, your face twisting upwards at the sharp sting. You didn’t get to look at it before, but you can feel him. He’s big. Bigger than anything you’ve ever had, and for a second you’re not quite sure he’ll be able to fit. But Joel being Joel means he’s a stubborn bastard. He makes it fit. He pushes himself in, in, in, and you whine, and he groans as your pussy wraps perfectly around every inch of his thick length, sinking in like a dream.

He bottoms out inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix, and you’re gripping the edge of the sink so tight that if it weren’t for Joel fucking you, you’d be worried if your knuckles would break the skin. “Fuck, that’s good,” he breathes, ragged and hard. 

And it is. He feels so good. Stretching your cunt out and carving a place for himself after all this time. All the wanting and pining. Shared glances and stolen moments that you believed to be over the moment you broke up with that bastard of a son have finally led you here with him. 

“Daddy,” pours from your lips involuntarily. Your eyes snap wide open, and you freeze. Joel draws his hips back, cock pulling out from your gaping hole and catching onto it’s head, and before you can scramble your brain for a pathetic excuse of an apology, his lips curl into a snarl, and he slams his hips forward, cock ramming into you full throttle. The force of his thrust so hard, your body jolts forward, and your pelvis collides with the sink.

He doesn’t give you time to recover; Joel sets a fast, unforgiving pace, and with every strong, expert roll of his hips, the edges of your vision begin to blur. And it doesn’t matter how fast he bucks into you; the size of his cock never fails to fill you up to the hilt on every long, punishing stroke. He’s fucking loving it. And so are you. Letting him use you and yanking you back onto his cock by the thin material of your thong, hips snapping back into his like a rubber band. The air quickly fills with delicious wet sounds of your skin slapping against his, your moans and his, and the sharp clink, clink, clink, of metal rattling against you as the movement of your bodies colliding increases. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he says, voice rough with arousal. “Been dreamin’ of this pussy since the first time I laid eyes on ya,” he pants, eyes never leaving where the two of you are connected.

Desperate whimpers and breathy moans spill from your lips, his left hand bruising on your hip. “Caught a glimpse of that pretty young pussy under your skirt. Couldn’t get it out of my damn head. I thought about you n’ fucked my fist every night to that image of you in your slutty little skirt. Too fuckin’ short to cover anything.” Your cunt drools with slick with every word that spills from him; you can feel it on the tops of your inner thighs. The wet suction of your cunt around his cock getting louder and louder and louder. It’s borderline pornographic. 

His voice cuts through the lewd sounds. “Some nights I heard those sweet sounds you made–fucked my fist then too. Were you fakin’ it, baby? Huh. Were you fakin’ it with him? My son ever fuck you this good?” He rambles, grip smarting your flesh. 

Your stomach jolts. Scratch that. That’s the last thing you expected him to say. If your ex-boyfriend’s father fucking you wasn’t going to send you spiraling, then him bringing up his own son while he fucks you dumb certainly will. 

Your mind is abuzz; your brain has gone completely blank. There’s no way you could form a proper word in response, even if you tried. There isn’t a single thought inside your head. It’s too much. Too many things are happening at once. For one, he’s never been this talkative; you were lucky if you got two sentences out of him a year ago. And now he’s asking you if his son fucks as good as he does. 

You don’t answer. You can’t. And he’s not expecting you to. All you can do is whimper and moan while he fucks you with abandon, the way you should have been fucked all those times by his son.

“You don’t gotta answer. I know he didn’t. That boy didn’t know what was good for him if it hit him til he was blue in the face.” And you moan in agreement, still not able to think of a response while his tip jabs at your most sensitive spot. 

“S’okay, you were made to take my cock,” he grits, his ringed finger digging into your skin by the unrelenting grip on your waist. “Made to take mine, not his. Tell me, my cock bigger than his?” 

“Daddy–” you gasp, your cunt flutters around him, and Joel laughs a little at you, a low mocking sound that fuels the fire roiling low in your belly. 

“Course it is,” he murmurs. “You were made for me. So fuckin’ pretty n’ perfect n’  – fuck – so goddamn tight. Tighter than a fleshlight, baby.” He hisses in between sharp thrusts.

“N-” you choke on your words, fresh tears pricking your eyes by the force of him fucking you so hard. 

He clicks his tongue. “You don’t like that, baby? You tellin’ me if I say it again, she won’t fuckin’ squeeze the hell outta me?”

Your cunt answers for you, giving him exactly what he wants and fluttering around him in response.

“S’okay, you can like it. You oughta. This sloppy cunt’s gonna be my new cocksleeve. Gonna blow my load in ya, pump you so full o’me.” 

You squeeze painfully tight around him again and bite your bottom lip to muffle the obscene, broken moan that escapes you. You can’t help but picture what Joel looks like thrusting himself into the toy. Was he using it that night? When you heard him coming with a groan of your name, was he pretending to paint your cunt instead of the inside of faux flesh? Or did he pull out and imagine covering your face in his cum? Your back arches as you push yourself up by the heels of your palms on the ceramic, your head topples back onto your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull, the walls of your cunt tensing at the thought. 

His fingers unhook themselves from your panties and his hand finds the back of your skull, and with a firm grip, he angles your head, so you are face to face with your own depraved reflection. “Look how fuckin’ sexy you look takin’ me,” he growls.

And you do; your vision refocuses on the wrecked girl in the mirror: hair wild yet pulled back by Joel’s tight fist, lipstick stained around your swollen lips, mascara smudged by wet tears at the corners of your eyes, temples glistening with beads of sweat as you’re split wide open, perfectly filled to the brim by your ex-boyfriend’s father’s cock. 

Joel’s fist tightens on your makeshift ponytail, pulling you back into him, and with your back now pressed flush to his chest, he brings his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, eyes watching each other in the mirror. “You’ve got a velvet cunt, kiddo, s’damn shame my son didn’t know what to do with it.” 

You squeak, your body jostling and rolling with pleasure on every shift forward, the edge of the countertop bruising your hip bones. You’re blissfully unaware of the spit drooling from your lips and dripping all over the sink faucet until Joel points it out.

“Look at you, wanted it so bad you’re fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, naughty girl,” he pants, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. “Wanted me to use you like this, huh?”

“Mmm,” you mewl in response, everything beneath your navel tenses while his cock grazes the opening of your cervix on each harsh thrust.

He tuts. “Aww, poor baby, you were all talk before. But you can’t talk back now, huh? You all cock dumb, s’that it? Daddy, fuckin’ ya stupid?” 

"So – good – Daddy,” you force a choked moan. Your cunt clamps down around him, and it burns, flames running wild, scratching away at your nerves as the fat head of his cock brushes against your g-spot again. As if he can feel it too, the snap of his hips grows more desperate. Faster. Harder. Deeper. 

“Keep doin’ that, doin’ so good for me, kiddo. Just a little more, give it to me, come on daddy’s cock, c’mon,” he rasps. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, his cock hitting you so deep each time his hips swing, and the weight of his balls slapping wetly against your clit has you hurtling full speed towards your release. 

“Daddy – oh f– fuck,” your voice all broken and hoarse. Your entire body goes painfully tight, thighs quivering, and something deep within you snaps. Your eyes screw shut as the energy thrums through your blood. Your mind is a dizzying blur, white light streaking behind your eyelids, and there’s a low ringing in your ears as your orgasm fully engulfs you. 

"Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, kiddo, there you go, let her soak me,” Joel praises as he fucks you through your high, cunt throbbing while your hips move lazily back and forth on him. 

As your orgasm settles, your body goes limp, and your head begins to dip, but Joel tightens his grip on you, shifting your body like a ragdoll until you’re on your tiptoes, the perfect angle for him as he fucks relentlessly into you. 

And with the blissed-out daze of the afterglow and the roaring music from the otherside of the bathroom door getting louder, you can just barely make out Joel’s low rambles of obscenities — almost like he’s mumbling to himself — and the quick, wet, smack, smack, smack of his hips against the plush of your ass as he pummels your cunt, desperate for release — as if his life depends on coming inside you. 

He grunts and through bleary eyes, you watch him through the mirror. He looks wrecked as he chases after his high. He must feel your eyes on him because then his eyes lock with yours in the mirror, and your cunt squeezes him unconsciously. That sends him overboard. His movements become sloppy, and you feel him twitch inside you. His jaw slackens, his eyes pinching shut while his head lulls back, and a breathless chant of, oh shit, fuck that’s it, fuck, escapes him as he comes undone.

His hands clamp, hips finally stuttering, a deep groan slipping past his lips, and then you feel the heat spreading inside you as thick spurts of his seed spill deep inside your cunt. His body falls forward over yours, his sweaty forehead falls into your shoulders, and you let him stay there as his cock continues to pulse, hips lazily rutting into you and pumping you full of his load. Your spent cunt spasms around his throbbing cock, and your wet and his, gathers at the base of his girth and trickles down his balls. 

His hips finally come to a stop, but he doesn’t pull out. Instead, his hand drops from your hair and begins rummaging through your purse. It only takes him a few seconds to find what he’s looking for. Your pen. You watch through watery lashes as he pops the cap with his thumb and brings the tip to the small of your back; your body flinches at the feeling of the cold tip. 

As the ball of the pen drags and tugs across at your skin, for a brief moment you try to surmise what he’s writing, but it takes him too long, and the intensity of your orgasm finally catches up with you. You drop your head on your hand and wait for him to finish whatever the hell he’s drawing on your skin. 

You feel his body shift behind you again, but it’s not until you hear the familiar sound of a low click that has you snapping your head up to the mirror. 

Joel Miller has his phone in his hands. 

And he’s not just doing anything with it. He’s not scrolling through it. He’s not opening up the contacts app. He’s not typing on it.

You catch a bright white flash in the mirror. He’s taking pictures of you. But not just of you. He’s taking pictures of your wasted cunt still plugged full of his cock. 

And for some reason — you don’t move. You don’t stop him. You don’t turn around and snatch the phone from his grasp and call him a dirty old dog. You stay perfectly still, and you let him do what he wants. Letting him take a series of pictures.

But it’s the last few that have his lips curling into a smirk, and he begins mumbling under his breath, gawking at the mess he made of you. 

With his phone poised in his right hand, his left drops to your left ass cheek, his fingers splay across your flesh, pulling your cheek back, and the shutter sound goes off. "Fuck, she’s so pretty like this.” 

Heat blooms in your chest. No one’s ever made you feel like this. But there’s no room for shame when he makes you feel this warm and beautiful... and so fucking sexy. 

And then it hits you. 

No one’s ever made you feel like this. There’s a sudden pang in your heart, tears stinging in your eyes. You’ve always known it. But you never admitted it because it never mattered. How could it? When you’ve never had someone who made you feel worth their time. How could you know what you were missing out on if you’ve never had it to begin with? 

Your head tips back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull, and to keep them at bay, you redirect your attention on Joel; watch him as he presses his hips flush to your ass so he’s filled you to the hilt. With your body still trembling, you wince and close your eyes in overstimulation. Your body sags forward on the cold surface, melting into submission.

You hear a series of shutters coupled with Joel’s mutters of, Jesus, look at her, the prettiest little pussy, look at this messy little hole swallowin’ up my cock, while you feel his hand moving along the small of your back, no doubt getting different angles of the place where the two of you become one. 

It feels like hours have passed by when Joel seems to have gotten his fill. One of his hands finds your hip again; you shiver and gasp in unison as he slowly slips himself out with a wet squelch. He pumped you so full of his release that you already feel it beginning to trickle out. You didn’t think there’d be that much of it for a man his age.

When his cockhead fully slides out from your hole, you have to fight the urge to whine at the loss of it — of him. But it’s what he does next that stops you from reveling in that; his hand quickly reaches down between your bodies, and two thick fingers catch the cum dripping out of you and push it back inside. You whimper tiredly. 

You stay bent over the sink, and suddenly, for a very brief moment, you feel the heavy weight of his cock slap wetly against your left ass cheek, and for the last time, the camera shutters. 

He quickly pockets his phone, and then he’s pulling your panties over the ache between your thighs, and his hands tentatively pull the skirt back down over your ass, smoothing out the rumpled fabric. You can hear the low rustling behind you — the buzz of his zipper and the clang of his belt buckle, tucking himself back into his pants.

And then Joel Miller surprises you again. He leans forward over you and places a chaste kiss to your clothed shoulder before his hands are on you, gently tugging your body upright and turning you around to face him as he murmurs a low, Let me look at ya. 

His eyes scan over your face, grinning immensely, like he can’t help being proud of himself for ruining you. And you smile bashfully in tandem as you bring a weak hand up to your face. Joel shoos your hand away and rubs his thumb under your eyes, gently wiping away your tears and smeared mascara, then doing the same to the smudged lipstick at the corners of your mouth. 

He’s always been rather soft with you, but it’s a stark contrast in comparison to his earlier behavior; it almost gives you whiplash thinking about it. How he fucked you so full you could feel him in your chest, the stream of profanities he cursed under his breath, moaning the dirtiest things  — comparing himself to his son while inside you, taking filthy pictures as evidence of what the two of you have done together, then cleaning you up like it’s second nature to him. All of it was filthy. He’s filthy. But there was always a softness to him, and there’s no doubt about it in this moment.

You take the opportunity to mirror him and caress away the lipstick that stained his lips from your kiss, you smile and he sighs at the contact. His thumb swiftly pads over your bottom lip, his gaze lands on your lips, a sort of hesitance, perhaps deciding if he wants to kiss you again. Then, his thumb catches on your plush bottom lip. Joel’s lips twitch, his eyes go dark as he drags the flesh of your bottom lip down, eyeing something he knows he almost missed. He scoffs slightly and shakes his head in near-disbelief. You smirk knowing exactly what he’s reacting to. 

His entire face blossoms with cherry red as he does another once over on the black ink inside your mouth. 

“Angel, my ass,” he mutters under his breath before wetting his lips. Already hungry for more. 

He tilts your chin upwards and leans forward to kiss you. It’s softer, slower this time, but of course, he still nips gently at your bottom lip, and at the same time, he slips his free hand down between the two of you once more. It moves beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers shoving your panties to the side, the pulp of his middle finger pushing through your puffy folds and into your dripping hole, until the black ink that reads, brake, is entirely sheathed inside your worn cunt, making sure his come stays where it belongs. You whimper against his lips, bucking into his hand.

“Keep that in there, f’me,” he mutters, his hot breath fanning over your lips. “Want you thinkin’ o’me when it drips outta ya tonight.” 

You whine faintly when Joel removes his hand. He brings it up to his face, and his tongue darts out to glide across the tip of his digit, licking his finger clean of your wet and his, all while keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. 

There’s a long beat of silence between you, and then he drops his hand, pulling away. Your heart falls, already missing the warmth emanating from his touch.

“We oughta get back before people start looking for us,” he murmurs as he steps back. You smile softly and nod. You’re not sure you’ll see him again. And you don’t have the heart to ask him, nor do you have the strength to handle it if he rejects your offer. You have nothing else to give. 

You love how he made you feel, but your chest twinges — one that twists deep. And no matter how much you try to quell that deep-seated fear, it never truly leaves you. A little voice in the back of your mind that repeats on a loop like a broken record, telling you: He’ll break your heart. They all do. But he can’t hurt you if you don’t let him. You resist the urge to turn and run. And instead, you turn to glance back in the mirror, sure to tame your disheveled appearance, giving Joel a chance to leave before you, slipping back into someone from your past.

He makes his way to the door, sliding the lock open; his hand curls around the handle but pauses before pulling it open. He turns to face you. “You okay?” he asks. 

It shocks you. It’s more than his son ever did. Certainly means more to you after he’d ask, Was it good, after coming in you before you even got started. Everything Joel did tonight is more than his son ever did; asking you questions all night and listening attentively while you answered them — whether it was with the hope of fucking you or not — doesn't matter. You fought tooth and nail for a sliver of his son’s attention, but with Joel, he just fucking gave it to you. 

You do your best to ignore that gnawing feeling of fear, clawing its way up your chest by the only way you know how; you press your lips to Joel’s, pushing your tongue into his awaiting mouth, and licking along the rim of his teeth. A strong hand curls around your jaw, fighting for dominance over the kiss, but you don’t let him for long, though. Reluctantly, you pry yourself off him, but not before Joel’s teeth softly graze your earlobe, nipping the flesh there.

You flash him a quick smile, looping the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “Perfect.” 

He smiles softly at that, eyes dancing across your face. “Yeah,” he whispers and moves to the side, letting you step out first and following you out. 

You head straight to the booth where your group of four awaits you, but not before peering over your shoulder and seeing Joel stalk towards his crew. You smile to yourself and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear as you approach your friends. As you shimmy in beside one of them, they ask where you were, and their brows pinch when you mumble, I was feeling a little dizzy. Which isn’t a total lie, but no one presses you for more, and you’re glad they don’t. 

It’s not until your friends start collecting their belongings and announce they want to check out the new bar a few blocks down the street when you feel the weight of tonight’s actions sinking into you. You’re about ready to call it a night; your eyes are heavy, your brain is still fuzzy, and your body still has not recovered from Joel railing you. 

You mull over sitting in the booth until the car you plan to order shows up to take you home. But the thought of waiting around in Joel’s presence makes your chest tighten. You don’t want to find out if he’ll be like the rest of them. Something to scratch an itch, and then wiping you from memory. That urge to flee loops back, and your legs force you to stand.

Collectively, you amble through the bar, still bubbling with energy, and as you make your way to the exit, you can feel the heat of a stare on you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is; his broad form ghosts along the edges of your periphery.

You walk against that pull you feel towards him, ache festering, skin burning, and bones grating with every heavy step, your eyes locked on the door like a missile to a target, not letting your eyes wander over to his booth, trying to keep what’s left of your dignity. Resisting. Resisting. Resisting. 

Lucas steps out first, holding the door open for another group of younger twenty-somethings as they saunter into the bar. While you hang back, you quickly mumble over your shoulder to Nell that you’re thinking of heading home. Worry cuts across her face, and she extends an offer, At least let me drive you home, hun. 

Your answer is cut off by the chime of your phone in your purse. You still and fumble for it and see a message from Mr. Miller. You had forgotten you never deleted his number. 

Holding your phone close to your chest, cautiously away from your friend’s curious eyes, you click on the notification.

He’d sent you two of the pictures he happily took at the top of the hour with a message that reads, Look damn sexy on my cock, kiddo. 

Your mouth falls open in a gasp, and pride swells in your chest as you glance at the first picture: Joel plugging your used cunt full of his length, his graying pubic hairs drenched and the base of his shaft gleaming with a white ring of creamy release. Your eyes flit upwards, and you finally get a chance to read the dark permanent lines he’d written on your skin.

Joel had crossed out the latter half of your tattoo on your ass cheek. It now reads, daddy’s fleshlight, in sloppy penmanship. With his grip porcelain white, the cross on his thumb makes an appearance as his digit digs into your hip at the corner of your tattoo. Your eyes drift further north, and above the globe of your ass, the small of your back reads, mine. 

Your thumb swipes across the screen to the second picture. With his cock poised in his hand, he had pressed the swollen mushroom head, only a hairsbreadth beneath the ink on the plush flesh of your ass — black ink shiny with a pearly film, he had smeared it in your mixed juices. Your cunt clenches at the images — at his absence, missing the warm, thick stretch of him. And suddenly, you feel his cum beginning to dribble out of you and pool into the gusset of your already ruined thong. 

When you don’t answer. The message bubble appears.

A beat, then two, and then—

There’s a place for you here.

You swallow down the twinge, the ache, press your thighs shut around emptiness, and feel another slight trickle escape your lower lips when your pussy releases more of his cum. You lock your phone and look back up at Nell in front of you. You feign nonchalance and wave her off, telling her you can’t go home just yet. Tell her that you received a few more requests from your boss and you, Don’t wanna take work home. 

She asks how you’ll get home, you lie, and swiftly mention that you just saw Mr. Miller across the bar and that he’ll drive you home. Another tiny white lie. Your place is a solid halfway point from the bar to his house. And when she asks if you’re sure you’ll be okay alone, her hand gently squeezing your arm, brows furrowed with worry, bless her heart, your gaze follows that pull like a magnet and lands on Joel. 

He’s already watching you. 

Your eyes lock with his, one hand resting to the side while the other tips the glass he’d been nursing towards you, winking as he takes a short sip of amber liquid. 

And there’s no pang in your chest. No urge to flee. Just the warmth of his gaze that in any second now will radiate through his touch, turning your bones to ash. 

You flash Nell a smile. Yeah…You’ll be fine.

[moineauz]

JUST IMAGINE JING YUAN who has a picture of you— bright brilliant smile, glancing off at the passing starskiffs— in his chest pocket, right above his heart.

SO WHENEVER THE SEAT OF DIVINE FORESIGHT TIRES HIM… he reach’s into his pocket and stares deeply into that photograph: his eyes impossibly mellow matched only by a besotted smile.

The Master Diviner can only reprimand him so many times before even she grows tired from his antics! And that giddy teenage affection he holds only for you…

ITS WIDESPREAD KNOWLEDGE IN THE LUOFU (AND EVEN BEYOND) that the esteemed General of the Luofu can’t help but mention his wife at any given moment:

“Well you see, my wife is quite adept at-”

“Oh? Yes, all compliments go to my wife. She helped arrange the-”

“I have my wife to thank for-”

“She’s just lovely isn’t she?”

AND YOU… CAN’T MAKE HIM SHUT UP.

Jing Yuan smile, resting his elbows on the table, the Seat of Divine Foresight now empty. Pardon him and his wife.

You were seated by the other table, reading paperwork.

“Jing Yuan,” you call, eyes not leaving the paper.

“Hm? Yes love?”

“You should stop praising me in public,” you murmur, burying your subtly tinted cheeks in sheets of white paper, “It’s-”

“Embarrassing?” finishes Jing Yuan, who was now found behind your chair, his breath grazing the shell of your ear, “What is there to be embarrassed of dearest?”

You nearly jump, heaving a sigh as you continue to gaze ahead, ignoring his mischievous smile- the one you knew all too well. “Well, it’s unnecessary-”

“You’re not answering my question.”

He leans forward, gingerly reaching for your shoulders; gently rubbing each muscle with finite tenderness. The warmth of his breath matching your own.

You stay silent.

Jing Yuan’s eyebrows furrow, carefully, he guides your head to turn to him, his hand placed gently on your left cheek.

You surrender into his hand, heaving a deep tender sigh.

Your eyes flutter close, silence envelopes, your mouth opens, the words the emerge, quiet and slow.

“I don’t know how I can possibly be-” you stammer, your eyes, now open, gaze at your glimmering wedding ring, “The General’s wife.”

“You’re right.”

Your eyes widen.

He gingerly tilts your chin up, eyes now interlocked in bright golden hues, “I don’t know how you can possibly stay by my side… as insufferable and stubborn of a man I can be.”

Jing yuan continues, his voice lowering, “How you console and charm me,” he chuckles, leaning impossibly closer, “Come, let’s not waste the night here.”

Your lips part slightly, a tender smile forming, all your doubt withers away. “Alright. Home it is then.”

Jing Yuan sends a teasing smile, yet, his eyes betray him: mellow, soft, brimming with tender ardency and unfurling devotion.

He guides you to your feet, wrapping his arms around your waist, his warmth not departing from you. His eyes forever tracing the curves and edges of your visage.

“Yes. Home.”

note: i made this before bed sooo don’t mind me :)

[luveline]

more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!

you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k

Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 

You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 

“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 

You step over it and almost slip. 

“Careful,” someone says. 

You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 

Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 

“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 

“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 

“Let me help you with this.” 

Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 

“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 

“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 

“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 

You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 

He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 

“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 

“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 

You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 

“Oh, sure. Of course.” 

“You haven’t heard it yet.” 

You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 

“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 

You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 

You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 

“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 

His voice is velveteen. 

“Is that awful?” you ask.

“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 

“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 

He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Can I pay you back?” 

You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 

Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 

“How would you do that?” you ask. 

“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 

A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 

“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 

He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 19: BDSM

We went from pretty short to pretty long as we have Somi getting roughed up and loving it. Please enjoy.

Length 2.7K

Somi X Mreader

“I just need someone who’s a little rougher, you know? No one I’ve met has been able to give me it.” Somi said dejectedly as she stirred her coffee. The young woman glanced at her friend, who was staring out the window. “Chae, are you listening?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, continuing to look out the window. I think that I may know just the person. “They got me into it.”

This piqued her interest, “They got you into it?” She asks, wanting more information from the petite woman.

The ends of Chaeyoung’s lips curl up as she remembers her experience. Chaeyoung turns to her friend, “Yeah, I met him when I went clubbing once. We went back to his place, and it was so good. I could give you his number if you want.” Chaeyoung leans over the table, getting by Somi’s ear, “Fair warning, though, you will never be the same. I can’t tell you how hard it is to cum with my boyfriend.” This sends shivers down the young woman’s spine and makes her consider what she’s doing for a brief second. In the end Somi decides to take up Chaeyoung’s offer, taking the phone number. “I’m being serious, though; you’ll be ruined for any other guy.” Chaeyoung hands Somi a slip of paper with a number on it.

She took the phone and saved it to her phone. The two continued chatting a little while longer before eventually departing. Once home, Somi pulled out her phone and stared at the number, remembering Chaeyoung’s words. She called your number, listening to the tone as she waited for you to pick up the call. “Hello?” She asked after hearing the tone.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Somi takes a deep breath before nervously continuing, “A friend of Chaeyoung. She gave me your number and told me you could help me experience what I want…in bed. I’m Somi.”

You recognize the name, “And you’re saying Chaeyoung gave you my number?”

“Y-yes. She said you’re good at what you do. I want to experience it myself.” Somi could feel her heart beat faster. “If you could come to my home, I’d really appreciate that.”

You sit back and consider her offer, imagining Somi’s body in the positions you’d put her. The idea excites you. “Alright, send me the address, and I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I-“

“Yes, tomorrow unless you don’t want me to show you what I do best.”

“No, no, you can come tomorrow.” Somi blurts out. You were already showing your dominance over the young woman. “I’ll send you my address right now.” She says, about to end the call when you stop her.

“Hold on, when I get there, I want you to be kneeling on the ground, bowing toward the door, naked.” Somi nods on the other side of the phone before agreeing to your demands. You end the call and wait for her message. You get it in a matter of seconds and begin preparing.

The next day, you head to Somi’s home; getting to her door, you knock. You hear feet rushing forward, opening the door slightly before retreating. You open the door and step inside; you see the idol bowing to you, completely nude. She keeps her head to the ground. You walk around behind her, placing your bag on the ground and opening it. You pull out a collar and leash and move toward the woman, placing it around her neck. “Lift your head and show me what you look like.” Somi lifts her head slowly; you snap a picture of the young woman. You put your phone away and tug on the leash. “Come on, let's go.” Somi hesitates for a moment before crawling alongside you. She points you to her bedroom, and you lead her to it. You undress yourself in front of the young woman. She stares in awe as she sees your cock. Somi feels a wetness between her legs as she begins to imagine what you’ll do to her.

You go through your bag, grabbing some restraints and some other tools you plan to use on the young woman. One of them was a riding crop. You run it down Somi’s back, stopping as you reach her plump ass. “Listen up, Somi. I’m going to be in charge, and you’re going to do whatever I say. I’m your master now. You’ll respond to all my questions, ending your answer with master. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Somi says, nodding quickly. You pull back the riding crop and deliver a strong strike to Somi’s rear. The woman yelps, the sting from the hit lingering on her body. “Yes, Master!”

“Good.” You look around the room and notice a full-length mirror in the corner. You smile to yourself and look through your restraints until you find the right one. You command the young woman to look in the mirror, and she follows along with a quick “Yes, Master.” Staring into the mirror, Somi sees the collar around her neck, the word “Slut” emblazoned on it. Somi felt an aching in her cunt; this was what she wanted, and more than anything, she wanted to touch herself right now. You pull Somi’s arms back, tying her wrists to her ankles and pushing her onto the floor. Somi had her ass raised in the air; she felt your riding crop run move along her ass. She felt you move lower, teasing her folds. She moaned softly but pursed her lips, trying to stay quiet. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to whip this pretty little ass until it’s bright red, and for every hit, you’re going to thank me.” You pull back the riding crop and smack Somi’s ass, watching it jiggle as the young woman thanks you for the hit.

Somi stared at the mirror, waiting with anticipation for every hit. She was getting so wet; every hit felt so good she was nearly forgetting to thank you. She wanted to cry out for more but feared you would stop if she mentioned it. She arched her back, raising her ass higher to ask for more of the delicious pain. “Thank you, Master!” She moans. Somi could barely see the redness making its way into view. She could feel herself getting closer to cumming, and you hadn’t even touched her yet. You paused your strike, switching out the riding crop for a short whip. The new strike made Somi cry out as more pain was handed to her. Somi bit her lip, watching as you whipped her ass. She continued to thank you for every hit. By now, her ass was the bright red you were after; the riding crop and whip left their marks on her body.

You kneel beside Somi and place your hand on her ass, squeezing the battered flesh. “You did a good job. You didn’t make a mistake. We’ll do this longer next time.” You move your hand down and push two fingers inside Somi. She raises her head and moans, nearly cumming from it. You feel her walls clamp down around your fingers as you curl them and rub against her G-spot. Somi cries out, her body pushed over the edge. She squirms as her orgasm comes. “Little baby came from just that? That won’t do.”

“I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.” Somi cries, her mind becoming foggy. You hook your arms around the young woman and lift her, throwing her onto her bed. You get behind Somi and rub your cock against her slit, making her whimper. Still bound, Somi can only beg for you to put it in. “I’ll be a good girl, Master. I promise. I won’t cum unless you tell me to. Please, I need you inside me. Please fuck me.” A small part of her couldn’t believe what she was saying, but it was the truth. She wanted you; she needed you to fuck her. You spank the idol, making her cry out. The pain felt so good to Somi, but it also got her to shut up.

Reaching back into your bag, you pull out a ball gag and quickly put it on the young woman, silencing her. You go back to rubbing your cock against Somi’s slit. The ball gag contained Somi’s moans, allowing you to enjoy yourself. Once your cock was slick with her nectar, you prodded her entrance, struggling to fit inside her small cunt. Somi could feel your cock, press against her entrance; you were big, and you were going to split her in half. You pushed against her entrance, forcing yourself inside. Somi’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt your cock stretching her out. Her muffled moans wouldn’t stop as you stuffed her. You kept one hand on her ass, your grip growing tighter as you reached for her leash and pulled Somi’s head back, choking her. Every inch continued to stretch the young woman; her toes were curling, and another orgasm was coming, threatening to wipe her away.

You were halfway in when you decided to say screw it and rammed the rest of your length inside her. Somi screamed into her ball gag as she came. Her walls wrapped tightly around your cock, coating it in her juices as Somi felt her world disappearing. Pleasure filled her body, her mind broken as she felt your cock pulse inside her. You let go of the leash and pull your cock out slowly, leaving just the tip inside.

In the next moment, your ram your cock all the way inside her body. Somi cried out; you were destroying her, reshaping her pussy into your image. You pulled back again and thrust into her roughly, beginning a consistent rhythm. You reveled in the pleasure, enjoying how Somi’s tight cunt held on to you. She was nearly as good as Chaeyoung. As you’re thrusting, you reach over and undo her restraints before tugging back on Somi’s leash. Now free from her bindings, Somi’s upper body moved along with her head. You continued to thrust into the young woman, pushing her to another orgasm as you moved your arm across her chest and held her in place. You grabbed one of the toys you had set out earlier and waited until Somi was on the verge of another climax.

Somi was close, too. Her moans only got louder as she felt your cock ramming into her womb. She was tightening around you again. You made your move as you impaled her on your cock and made her cum against you, put clamps on her nipples, and pulled them. Somi screamed into the ball gag; she looked down and watched as her skin stretched as you pulled on the chain between the clamps. It was too much; Somi squirted, tainting her bedding with her nectar as you made her orgasm continue. Somi’s head was spinning, and she was losing track of what was happening.

You continued to ram your cock into the idol, nearing your climax. You undid the ball gag and listened to Somi’s hoarse moans. Your cock began to throb, and you closed in on the young woman. “I’m going to cum inside you, Somi. Take it all.” Somi eyes were half-lidded, she was barely aware of what was happening, but she knew one thing, and that was she needed to take your cum. You bury yourself inside Somi, ramming into her womb. You paint her walls white as you unleash a torrent of cum, filling her belly with it. Somi moaned softly as she felt your hot cum pour inside her ruined body. The moment you let her go, she collapsed onto her bed. You keep yourself inside Somi, thrusting softly as her walls milk you.

Pulling out of the young woman, you watch as your cum flows from her gaping cunt. You climb out of bed and roll Somi over to the bed’s edge, making sure her head hangs over it. The barely conscious woman wakes up a little more as you slap her cheeks with your cock. “You’re going to clean me up now.”

“Yes, Master,” Somi mumbles, opening her mouth for you. You slide yourself into Somi’s mouth, pushing your entire length inside her before pulling out. You groan, enjoying her throat’s tightness before moving back into it. Somi lies there taking your cock, barely able to breathe as you stretch her throat too. While she’s cleaning your cock, you take the time to play with her tits, tugging at the chain between her nipple clamps and pulling her skin taut. Somi moans around your cock, her throat vibrating and making the experience more pleasurable. You let go of the chain and touch her bare tits, squeezing them roughly. “Next time, I’ll make sure to use these things.” You tell Somi. Nearing another climax, you begin thrusting quicker, slapping Somi’s face with your balls as you do. Just as you’re about to cum, you pull out, giving Somi one last chance to breathe. She unwittingly takes it, and when you stuff your cock back down her throat, you cum. Somi’s forced to drink every drop as you unload into her stomach. You roar as her throat begins to close around you. Just as she was about to run out of breath, you pulled out and used the last of your load to paint Somi’s face, covering it in a thick layer of your semen.

You move away from Somi, grabbing your phone. “Somi, look over here and smile for the picture.” Somi rolls onto her stomach and smiles. The picture shows her messy hair, painted face, and collar. She was a natural slut. You begin dressing yourself and putting everything away except for the collar. You pat the young woman’s chest and smile at her. “You’ve earned that, Somi. You’re just like Chaeyoung, one of my prized sluts.”

Somi smiles weakly, “Thank you, Master.” After you leave, Somi lies in the same place, her body tired and full of cum. Her only thoughts were about you and what you did to her. Somi placed a hand on her sore cunt, recoiling slightly as she pushed two fingers in and played with herself. She couldn’t get you out of her mind; at home, she refused to take off the collar, feeling more natural with it on. She looked at pictures she had taken of the aftermath and masturbated to them. She texted day after day to come over, but you would decide when to deal with her.

The next time she and Chaeyoung met, Somi explained the whole thing, how she was struggling without you. “I told you, you’re ruined for all men. Nothing is ever going to feel like his touch.” Chaeyoung said, rubbing herself over her jeans. “I miss it so much, what I wouldn’t give to be his slave again.��

Somi had an idea when she heard that. “Come over to my house and join me! Please, I need him, and he isn’t responding to me; maybe if I tell him we’re both there, he’ll respond.” The idea made Chaeyoung wet; getting to experience you again would be like heaven to her.

She shut it down, though, “I can’t. I have a boyfriend now.” She hated herself for saying no, seeing how desperate Somi had reminded Chaeyoung of what you did to her. The conversation soon dwindled between the two as Chaeyoung thought about how much she wanted you and whether giving up her relationship would be worth it. Somi could only think about what to do to get you to respond to her.

A couple of weeks later, as Somi got ready to perform, she saw a familiar number on her phone. Somi saw the notification pop up; she looked around quickly before clicking on your message. Her heart leaped for joy when she saw you had accepted the request. When she saw you accepted her request, she was more than ready to drop everything and head home, but her manager stopped her.  During her entire performance, she thought about you, and she rushed home afterward.

When you got to her door, you found Somi waiting for you. A bright smile on her face as she bowed to you, raising her head only to show off the collar she loved so much. “Welcome home, Master.”

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

[authorhjk1]

Incantations of the old moon

(Seulgi X Joy X Yeri X Male Reader)

Joy coughs as she blows up dust by moving one of the bigger boxes to the side. The wooden floor creaks where ever she steps as she keeps rummaging around.

"If I had known he was gonna leave me hanging again..."

Joy mumbles as she moves another box to the side.

Her grandparents asked her, if she could clean and reorganize their attic. Joy didn't like the idea at first. But her grandparents are already quite old. She knows they won't be able to do it. At least not alone. And maybe she could find something interesting up here. Maybe a photo book of their childhood, or more pictures of their wedding. She used to love her grandma's stories about how she met her grandpa. And some objects of that time are probably lying around here somewhere.

If only Joy's boyfriend hadn't cancelled a minute before the two of them were supposed to leave. Her grandparents live a couple of hours away and so she had hoped for a nice and relaxing weekend outside of the city, together with her boyfriend. But he only told her he had to head to the company and off he went. And he still didn't send her a text to apologize.

Joy sighs as she picks up a huge and unfortunately heavy frame of a beautiful painting. She carries it across the small room, before leaning it against the wall. The physical exercise eases her mind a little and cools her temper. But her anger hasn't completely vanished yet.

Another huge box, full of books, finds itself dragged across the wooden floor. Once she lined it up next to the other boxes, Joy takes out the book on top. A novel. By the looks of it maybe 20 years old. Not very interesting. She puts it to the side and keeps browsing. But most of the books turn out to be thrillers, fantasy novels and romance books. Some of her grandma's library.

Two more boxes get turned upside down, until Joy finally squats down and opens the last untouched box in the room. This one contains older books. And she gets lucky. The second book bears her grandparent's names on the front page. The young woman slowly goes through the book, a never ending smile playing around her lips. There is her grandfather standing next to a bicycle, raising his hand and smiling at the camera. Another picture shows her grandma on the back of a horse, riding through a huge field. The last page only shows one picture. Their wedding day. The two of them stand side by side. He wears an old fashioned suit, while she wears a beautiful hanbok. Joy carefully caresses the photo, seeing both of their happy smiles.

A sudden wind almost makes her loose her balance. She closes the book and looks at the wide open window. She opened it earlier. Right? Joy doesn't remember, but she probably did. It can't just open itself.

She puts the book aside and checks the box for more hidden treasures. But to her disappointment, the rest of the box is made out of more of her grandma's book collection. Joy is about to give up, when her hands close around the last book lying on the bottom of the box. Its cover seems to be made out of red leather. But time has turned it into a brown tone. There aren't any letters on it, or any decorations. Not even on the back.

Joy slowly opens the book. More dust raises into the air, making her cough again. Her eyes now focus on the front page.

"Incantations of the old moon"

The paper has turned brown and yellow and it feels like it could fall apart any second. The letters almost look like they've been written with pure gold. It seems to reflect the small amount of sunshine that found it's way through the small window above her.

Joy flips the page. On it's back her eyes focus on the big letters which seem to be a name or a title of a chapter.

"Spell of the enkindled flame"

The black ink reminds Joy of a starless, cold night.

"Is this supposed to be a book filled with spells or something?"

Joy chuckles to herself. The text that follows does look like it's a poem or a spell. But the young woman just shakes her head and closes the book.

She starts to put the books she took out back into the the box. Her grandma's books first. Just when she is about to pick up the old mysterious book, another wind blows through the attic. To her surprise, the book opens, the first page turns itself. Joy feels a shiver run down her spine. The wind was a little harder, but is it just a coincidence the book got opened again?

For a moment, Joy stares at the name of the poem or the spell or whatever it is. Then her eyes glide down the page. She notices how the second part seems to be in another language. Latin maybe? She notices the word "et" That is Latin. Or maybe Italian? The page on the right is filled with letters written in the same pitch black ink.

"This spell heightens the caster's labido, increasing physical desire and intensifying arousal."

A laugh escapes Joy's lips. Not just a book of spells, but a book filled with spells for sex? Maybe this is a joke made by her grandma or something. Magic doesn't exist. So spells are useless. Just empty words someone made up. That's probably not even Latin. Just random words strung together.

"Well, I could give it a try. It's not gonna kill me, right?"

A sudden curiosity makes her heart beat a little faster. Surely this isn't real. But she can hear a small part of her brain acknowledging how weird it was that the wind opened the book again. What if it is magic? Maybe she could make her boyfriend do whatever she wants.

Joy chuckles at the thought. Yeah, sure. Why not give it a try?

She clears her throat and focuses back on the page on the left.

"By the ember’s glow and the night’s embrace,

Awaken the fire that passion does trace.

Let the pulse quicken, and the heat rise,

A flame of desire to light the skies."

Joy can feel how her excitement rises. Is that the spell, or just a normal reaction to something mysterious?

Unbeknownst to her, Joy's heartbeat has already picked up a little pace. Her body temperature rises as well. So slightly, it's barely noticeable.

"Per ignem sacrum et noctis umbras;

Crescat ardor, sensus foveat,

Flamma carnis, vires augeat."

That last part was hard to pronounce. And she definitely butchered every single one of those words. But Joy waits, still sitting on the floor in front of the box. She holds her breath. In her head, she counts to ten.

Nothing.

Then she reaches twenty.

Nothing.

Of course nothing happens. Because magic doesn't exist. It's just some useless book.

When she looks down on it again, Joy notices how it's not in her hand anymore. It's lying on the floor. Her eyes slowly wander to her hand. Her breath hitches when she realises she already unbuttoned her jeans.

"What-"

A sudden spike of lust pierces her body. Joy's eyes are wide open. She can literally feel how she is getting wet. Her body's temperature seems to rise and rise. A wave of pleasure builds up inside of her as her hand disappears inside her pants. The other is already pulling at her waistband to give herself more room. A drop of her saliva hits that second hand. She is drooling.

Joy bites her lip. The voice inside of her is almost screaming in panic. What is she supposed to do now? Surely not...

"Oh Lord!"

Joy almost cries out as her fingertips graze her clit. She's never been this sensitive. It almost feels like her own consciousness is being pushed to the back of her mind. A fog of lust takes over her brain.

Before Joy can even look down on herself again, she has already started rubbing herself furiously. Wave after wave of pleasure hits her body like it's a lonely rock in a deep sea. They keep coming, some washing over her, others almost knocking her down. Her breathing is now as fast as if she just ran down three flights of stairs.

"Oh god.... Please make it stop."

She manages to moan out, that last piece of her conscious mind fighting back. But the pleasure only intensifies. Joy can feel how her body is readying itself to climax already. How her abs tighten, how she bucks her hips towards her hand.

Never before did she get so aroused by just rubbing her clit. When she needs to take care of herself, she usually needs three fingers inside of her to make herself orgasm. But now, her body seems to be in overdrive. Every fiber of her entire being is urging her on to cum, working towards her climax.

Joy can already feel how her fingers, which are pulling back the waistband of her jeans, are already starting to hurt. She can't keep this up either way. It's only a matter of seconds now.

The sunlight shines through the small window and onto the woman sitting on the wooden floor. Her moans are filling the small room. Her legs shake when another wave threatens to brake her. Joy's wide open eyes close as she braces herself.

"Ahhhhh!"

Her squeal - light, sharp and rising in pitch - echoes her joy like a playful, excited note. That final wave has completely washed over her, almost drowning her in her own pleasure.

"Oh my god. Oh my god."

Half whisper, half moan. Joy feels how she is ruining her panties. Her juices darken the light fabric, making it heavier. It takes a moment, until her body seems to have completely calmed down. Except for her still quickly paced breathing.

Joy stands in her grandparent's guest room, looking at the book in her hands. Why did she take it with her again? She has the urge to open it again and read the rest of the book. Maybe there are more spells. Maybe there better spells. But she is able to control herself. She tugs it underneath the pillow of her bed.

"Maybe later."

She whispers to herself, before taking off her jeans. It seems like they are still dry, so she only has to change her underwear. Joy grimaces as she pulls her soaked panties off her body. It feels weird. This never happened to her before.

Looking down on herself, Joy feels a slight tingle in her nether regions. Just the mere sight of her own pussy is starting to turn her on again. She decides to focus on her panties. She holds them up, examining them. As her fist closes tightly around them, drops start to fall to the floor.

"Damn, what is wrong with me?"

Joy sighs. Her mind is still having trouble accepting that magic exists. She is still trying to come up with some simple explanation. Maybe she got this horny, because of her recent busy schedule and lack of pleasure? But would that make her this horny?

"Sooyoung! Come down for lunch!"

"In a minute!"

Her grandma's voice reminds her that she is still standing half naked in her room.

Joy joins her grandparents on the couch after lunch. They always watch a program which hosts idols around this time of day, because they don't want to miss the day, when Joy makes her appearance.

But the woman in question is having a hard time keeping it together. There wasn't any particular trigger during lunch, which would explain her aroused state. But her arousal has kept rising, since she.... Well, since she came.

Joy sighs and puts her hands between her ass and the couch, sitting on them. She's afraid another sudden spike of pure lust will catch her off guard. She doesn't even dare to think about what her grandparents would think of her, if she suddenly started to play with herself in front of them.

As the show continues and this week's cast gets introduced, Joy recognizes a familiar face. Her boyfriend. So that's why he couldn't come with her. Someone else probably canceled last minute and he had to fill in. But that still doesn't excuse his lack of explanation, or an apology for canceling on her.

"I remember when two of us were this young."

Her grandma sighs nostalgically, taking her husband's hand.

"You always looked so handsome."

"Me?"

Joy's grandfather laughs.

"Every boy in our town ran after you."

For some reason, those words struck a nerve for Joy. She focuses on the people on TV. Her boyfriend and three male hosts.

"Everyone wants you."

Was that Joy's own voice in her head? It sounded different. As if it's trying manipulate her thoughts.

"You can have them all."

Joy bites her lip. Her arousal reaches another plateau. She can feel how she is getting wetter again. She unconsciously starts to rub her thighs together. Just the idea of sleeping with more than one man suddenly fills her head with lust. Taking not just one cock, but two or three... That suddenly sounds like heaven for Joy. All of the attention on her. She is an object of desire for several guys, almost begging her to let them use her.

As her lust takes over more and more of her body, the initial ideas turn into vivid pictures inside her head. She can almost see how she is kneeling in front of a group of guys, mouth wide open, tongue sticking out, waiting for them all to fuck her face.

As if her body is on autopilot, Joy jumps off the couch.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Just a minute."

Her voice sounds hoarse, even to her own ears. But she quickly heads for the guest room, almost tripping as she takes two steps at once.

As soon as the door closes behind her, Joy strips. Her top quickly falls onto her bed. Her bra follows. Her jeans hit the ground next to her and she kicks her panties into one of the corners of the room.

Barely ten second after she got inside, Joy is kneeling in the middle of the room. She closes her eyes and lets her hands wander all over her body. She starts with her breasts, squeezing and fondling them as if two men were exploring her naked body. Her hands soon glide lower, following the tightness of her midriff. She caresses her own thighs as she imagines herself surrounded by five men. In her mind, Joy eagerly watches them strip, licking her lips when she sees their hard cocks.

The small voice in her mind, telling her this is weird and unnatural has almost been completed drowned out by now. The intensity of her dirty thoughts almost make her feel like it's actually happening.

Joy reaches out with one hand and wraps it around one of the dicks pointing at her. She can almost feel how hard the man is as she begins to stroke his cock. Another man steps forward and Joy gladly opens her mouth. She doesn't even have to put her fingers into her mouth pretending it's a cock. Her vivid imagination is already enough. She can feel how his cock is sliding in and out of her mouth. How his tip grazes the back of her mouth with every thrust.

When another man steps forward, Joy starts to jerk him off as well. Both her hands use the same rhythm and pace, while her excitement grows and grows. She was never a huge fan of someone cuming on her. Even with her boyfriend, Joy prefers for him to cum inside her, when they used protection. But now? Now, Joy can't wait for the five guys to use her face as a canvas. She would ask them, beg them, to paint her face, if it wasn't for the cock inside her mouth.

Joy greedily keeps sucking the man in front of her, while she jerks off the two on her sides. She almost forgot the other two men. They now play with her tits, like she did before. Joy lets out a moan around the cock in her mouth as she feels them pinching her nipples and squeezing her breasts.

If she could see herself like that, Joy would definitely die of shame. Kneeling on the floor in an empty room. Completely naked. Her mouth wide open, her hands on either side over head head, doing corkscrew motions. As her pussy gets wetter and wetter, even without any stimulation, drops of her juices slowly drip onto the carpet.

Inside her head, Joy already has the five guys on the edge of their orgasms. How she got there is a mystery even to herself. But here she is now. Her pussy almost radiating pure lust as she lowers her hands. One reaches for her chest once more, while the other finally drops down to her core.

Joy can feel how close she is. Once more the flat of her hand begins to rub her clit. Within a matter of secondd, her hand is already coated in her slick.

"Yes, cum all over my face."

Joy sighs, before opening her mouth as wide as possible and sticking her tongue out. All five guys are surrounding her, stroking themselves. The first man's load hits her nose, while the rest lands on her tongue. The other two, standing on either side of her, cum all over her cheeks and eyes. Joy's eyelids feel heavy now. Even if she wanted to, it feels like she couldn't open her eyes. The two guys behind her cum as well. All across her face.

Joy feels their warm cum on her skin. She never felt this good. She knows she is mere seconds away herself. Just one last thing to degrade herself even further....

The guy in front of her pushes his cock past her lips.

"Clean it, little whore."

"Fuck!"

Joy orgasms hard as she licks the man's left over cum off his cock.

Her eyes stay closed throughout the entirety of her orgasm. It feels like it takes her a whole hour to work through it. Wave after wave makes her body shake and tremble. Because she was pretending she had someone's dick in her mouth, Joy started drooling all over herself at some point. Her tits are covered in her own spit.

When Joy finally opens her eyes again, it takes some effort. As if the men's imaginary cum has glued her eyes shut. A feeling of disgust and horror washes over Joy as she looks down on herself. Her hand wet with slick. Her tits covered in spit, the carpet underneath stained by a big puddle of her juices.

"What have I done?"

She whispers to herself. This isn't normal. And she feels like a whore and a slut after this. Dirty and used. Filthy. She needs to take a shower. Now. But what if she gets turned on again? Joy shakes her head. She came twice today. Both times harder than all of last month's orgasms combined. Spell or no spell. Her body is drained.

The feeling of failure and shame colours Joy's cheeks red. She slides down along the tiles of the wall of the shower. Her body is completely wet due to the water, but her lower half is now partially covered in slick again. As her breathing calms down, Joy finally makes a decision.

She needs to get rid of that book. She doesn't know how long this spell is gonna last. And she doesn't even want to know what the others do. And she definitely does not want to be tempted to try it again, when she is feeling really low or stressed out. A shudder rushes through her body as she imagines herself breaking down on stage and just mindlessly rubbing her pussy in front of thousands of people.

Suddenly her eyes are wide open.

"No, stop it! Not again!"

Joy quickly tries to think of something else. Maybe something disgusting.

"A camel, fish, vomit..."

She grimaces, but it seems to work. Thinking about random things not related to anything sexual. Maybe this is the way to control the effects of the spell?

It seems like the spell finally wore off. Nothing happened for the rest of the day. Actually, Joy almost forgot that the book is still there, until she lied down on her bed, ready to fall asleep. She can clearly feel it underneath her pillow.

"No, I won't look at it."

She closes her eyes.

But what if it influences her in a another way, when she sleeps with it under her pillow? Her eyes open again and Joy takes out the book. She is just about to put in on the nightstand, when curiosity invades her thoughts once more. What if she just checks out the next spell? She doesn't have to use it. Just look what it does.

"Okay."

Joy sighs in defeat and sits up, leaning up against the wall behind her.

"But only looking. I promise, I won't use it."

She flips through the first pages, passing the first spell that already brought her to her limits. Joy catches a small warning on the bottom left corner.

"Do not use this spell twice a day. Severe loss of self control and random orgasms without stimulation are side affects."

Joy shakes her head in disbelief. Who would try to use a spell like that twice a day? Even now she is consciously pushing back the undying urge to pleasure herself one last time.

When she reaches the next spell in the book, Joy focuses on the right page once more, reading all the instructions.

"The incantation of velvet dreams"

"Casts a spell over sleep, giving the caster or target vivid, sensual dreams that amplify desire upon waking."

"Interesting."

Joy murmurs to herself. Maybe she'd be able to sleep better. She always gets so little sleep because of her schedule. Maybe this will enhance the quality of the little sleep she does have.

She keeps reading, when she realizes that there are more requirements to cast the spell.

"A silver thread:

A thin thread of silver should be tied loosely around the wrist as a symbol of connection to the dream realm.

Silent preparation:

The caster must spend five minutes in complete silence, meditating on their intent, before the spell can take effect. The impact is improved if the caster is dressed in the same way as he or she invisons him or her self during mediation.

Honey:

Place three drops of honey on the tongue before sleep to invoke sweetness in the dream realm."

Joy ponders for a moment. All those things are quite easy to get or do. She glances at the left page with the spell. Should she try it out?

No, she promised herself she wouldn't. Joy knows it's a bad idea and yet she is already thinking about what she'd love to dream tonight. She hesitates.

"Are there any side effects?"

She mumbles to herself, going through the right page again. Nothing. Maybe this spell is safer to use then the first one. After all, she is sleeping anyway.

"Might as well..."

Joy gets out of bed, ready to gather the necessary materials. Silver thread and honey. One in her grandma's sewing box, the other in the kitchen.

Once she is back with both of them, she puts the glass of honey and a spoon onto the nightstand and places the thread next to it.

"Outfit..."

Joy opens the wardrobe, looking through the clothes she took with her. A dress? A short top and skirt? She can feel herself getting turned on again, just thinking about what she could be able to dream off. That's when she remembers her luggage.

Since she thought her boyfriend would come with her, Joy packed something a little extra. Her grandparents go to sleep early and her and her boyfriend's sex life isn't as good as she'd like it to be. Maybe the fresh country air would've helped her out. But now, this has to suffice.

Joy smiles as she takes out the lingerie that was lying on the bottom of her luggage. It's basically a see through red body suit. She quickly puts it on and closes the attached red collar around her neck. With a click, the button is secure. Joy looks down on herself. She can basically see her whole body underneath the thin red fabric, especially her nipples, which look a little darker now. Its neckline doesn't do its name justice at all. The cut down her body ends right underneath her breasts.

"Now the thread..."

Joy can feel the excitement in her body rising as she puts the silver thread around her wrist. Unbeknownst to her, it isn't only her excitement that makes her use the next spell. The first one has already raised her basic sexual appetite. If she keeps this up at this pace, she soon won't be able to climax anymore, without a spell in the book. Too bad the most important instructions and warnings are all listed on the very last page.

The warm rays of the sun hit Joy's face in the morning. She sleeps with a smile playing around her lips. The birds in the garden start to sing, which slowly makes her open her eyes.

"That was good."

She sighs dreamily. She can't remember every detail of her dream, but the most important parts are stuck in her head. Pulling the sheets aside, Joy looks down on herself. She's still wearing that red body suit. And the part that covers her pussy is visibly wet.

But the good thing is, Joy doesn't feel this undying urge to satisfy herself like yesterday. Maybe it has finally worn off. The spell for the dream seems to be the perfect solution. At least for now. She is perfectly relaxed. This is like the best start for a day.

When Joy is finally done with unpacking, she quickly eats dinner, before going to bed. She just got back home to her apartment. On the way, she bought silver threat and a new glass of honey. She is gonna need it.

Now, Joy sits on her bed, eyes closed as she thinks about what she wants to dream tonight. She is wearing the same red bodysuit as last night. The tight fabric stretches over every curve of her body. Only while putting it on a couple of minutes ago, Joy realized how good her butt looked in it. Now her thoughts seem to be related to that. She imagines herself having anal sex for the first time. Someone eating out her ass and then using lube to make it easier for him. It's no one specific, but Joy feels save and cared for as the man lies on his side behind her and starts to push his cock inside her ass.

A huge smile plays around her lips when she opens her eyes again. Joy reaches for the book in front of her and starts to read the spell out loud.

"By the silk of night and the moon’s soft light,

Weave the dreams that dance in the night.

Let the body stir and the senses ignite,

A journey of pleasure through the shadowed flight."

Just like the night before, she feels her eyelids getting heavier. A soothing, warm feeling starts to spread through her body. Not the primal, undying urge to get fucked. But a feeling of completion and easiness.

"Per noctem et lumen lunare;

Somnia sensuales, gaudium efflorescat."

Joy places the book on the nightstand and reaches for the honey. Three drops onto her tongue. She closes her eyes, her head resting on her soft pillow. The honey on her tongue sweetens the process of falling asleep.

As soon as her eyes close, Joy starts to dream. She is inside her own apartment. Wearing that red bodysuit. Why was she dressed like this again? Right, her boyfriend. It's his birthday.

During her five minutes of silence, Joy failed to think of a build up. Her fantasy started out with a man kissing her as he lies her on her bed. Now her subconsciousness is stringing random thoughts together.

She is waiting for her boyfriend, wanting to make his night special. But when the bell rings it's not him, but the delivery guy. Luckily, Joy put on a robe before opening the door. The man looks her up and down, being able to tell how little she must be wearing. Her robe is barely reaching her thighs, her legs and feet completely naked.

"That'd make 20 000 ₩"

Joy reaches for her card and the man takes out the device to scan it with.

"Card declined"

Horror slowly creeps onto Joy's face, when she realizes she won't be able to pay. She doesn't have any cash lying around. She can already sense the man's inappropriate glances.

"I'm sorry. It seems like I can't pay right now."

"I'm sure we can find away."

His smile makes her shudder. But in a good way for some reason. She feels like he would know how to make her feel good. If she just invited another man inside. Just once.....

Joy stirs awake the next morning. Like the night before, she can't remember the whole dream. But this one was definitely better than the first. As she is slowly getting rid of her sleepiness, Joy starts to feel odd. She reaches out to flip the sheets off her and her hand touches wet fabric. Worry creeps up her spine.

"Don't tell me..."

She lifts the covers.

"Oh god...."

Almost the entire bed is wet. Soaked. Drenched with her juices. That explains why her dream was so good. She lifts one of her legs, the sheets stick to it for a while, before they fall back down. The red fabric on her body is glued to her skin. She must've rolled around in her own slick the whole night.

A small price to pay, considering how good the dream was. She can just take a shower.

"And change the sheets...."

Joy sighs, but she doesn't have a choice. As she gets off the bed, she is already thinking about a way to sleep, without drowning herself in her own juices.

"Let's try this again."

Joy stands up and takes her place behind Yeri. She raises her arms as the music starts and the five of them start to practice the dance once again.

Two weeks have gone by since Joy found the book. Her and her boyfriend did talk about her weekend at her grandparent's, but she didn't mention what she found. She could share it with no one, since no one would believe her.

But for two weeks, Joy has been working on her own pleasure by herself. Her and her boyfriend's schedules didn't allow them to see each other often, let alone have sex with each other. So when she did have time, Joy used the spell for her dreams to at least feel good when she woke up in the morning.

But she is starting to feel a rising need for more. She needs to orgasm while she is awake. She needs something to get herself off. She has been going through the book and found a couple of more spells. And when her eyes fall on Seulgi, she is determined to use one of them today.

Joy thought about this for quite a while. Nothing seems to really do it anymore for her. Playing with herself is nice and all and she does climax while doing so, but she is starting to miss something. She is starting to miss someone else's touch.

She has had these dreams about other guys. She does admit that. But she'd never cheat on her boyfriend. How horny or aroused she might be, she'd never do something like that. That's what she told herself.

Now, Joy is thinking about a loophole in some way. Sex with other men is definitely cheating. But what if it's with another woman? There is no dick involved. So technically, she wouldn't have penetrative sex, right? So it would be okay for her and Seulgi to pleasure each other? Just this once?

Joy doesn't even realize how ridiculous that sounds. But the book's influence on her is slowly growing stronger. Her desire for pleasure keeps rising. She doesn't know it, but her body realizes that the book might be able to give her eternal pleasure. Pleasure that is out of this world. And that doesn't mean these simple spells. There must be something else. Something that frees her from earthly boundaries and rules.

And Joy is starting to become so desperate, she's willing to cast a spell on one of her members.

"One last time. We will go home afterwards."

Joy looks at Irene while she speaks

She thought about whom she should choose. Irene was the first who didn't qualify. Or rather, Joy was afraid of what could happen. Irene can be strict. She thought of Yeri and Wendy as well, but the two of them don't seem to be weak minded. And the instructions said, it would be easier on someone who is easier. But that doesn't mean Joy sees Seulgi as dumb or a slut. She is just loving and caring. A person who often can't say no.

And that's why Seulgi finds herself inside Joy's apartment exactly one hour later. The younger woman asked her to come over and hang out. Seulgi didn't have any plans, so she agreed.

But now she feels like something is going on. Joy is acting different. She noticed that during practice already. Her mind seemed to be somewhere else. And she looks like she has that after sex glow. But all the time. And she surely can't be having sex all day.

Pretending to prepare snacks for the two of them, Joy is standing inside her kitchen. She glances at Seulgi, watching her drink the juice she gave her. The younger one told her it's supposed to help for losing weight. But in reality, it was just random juice she had in her fridge. The special ingredient was a strand of Joy's hair. Seulgi had to drink it in order to form the necessary bond between the two of them.

After confirming that Seulgi isn't paying attention to her, Joy starts to read from the book, which is lying on the counter.

"Serpent of secrets, lend me your grace,

Let your kiss awaken, and pleasure embrace.

By the moon’s soft glow and the stars that gleam,

Uncoil the longing that sleeps in the dream."

As she reaches the Latin part of the spell, Joy raises her hand. Now she has to draw a snake in the air. And she does so as she reads the last lines.

"Per lunam et stellas lucentes;

Sensibus favorem, desiderium augeat."

The snake she drew seems to be made of a small cloud. It starts to move towards Seulgi. Joy watches, hoping she did everything right. Doubt is starting to rise inside her as the snake opens her mouth. It's now right behind Seulgi. Joy bites her lip. As soon as the snake touches Seulgi, it disappears. Gone.

Did it work?

Joy hesitates, but then walks over to Seulgi, while holding a plate with grapes and watermelon.

"Thanks."

Seulgi smiles as she reaches for a handful of grapes. Joy sits down next to her.

It seems like the older woman isn't affected at all. She seems to behave normally. Maybe Joy did something wrong? She glances at Seulgi's glass, which is only half empty. Or did she not drink her hair yet?

Joy sighs and sinks back against the backrest of her couch. She should've never even tried this. Seulgi is one of her best friends. The two of them lived together for a long time. How could she just decide to use her, so she can satisfy her own pleasure? The younger woman feels ashamed of herself. The book was fun and all. But now it slowly seems to take over her actions. It has to go. Rather sooner than later.

Joy stands up, determined to get rid of the book immediately. When she walks past Seulgi, a hand suddenly grabs her wrist. She looks down on her friend.

"Unnie..."

Her words get caught in her throat as Joy sees the lust glisten in Seulgi's eyes.

Before she can react, Seulgi has already pulled her onto the couch again. Her lips crash against the younger one's, making her fall onto her back. The moment their lips touch, Joy's lust skyrockets. She loves how Seulgi's lips feel on hers. How her tongue brushes against her own. How her hands hold onto her waist. She needs to have her. Now.

Seulgi is in a state of pure lust, confusion and horror. What the hell is she doing? Why is she kissing her friend? And why can't she stop? Why does it feel so good? Why does it make her pussy wet? Why-

Her own consciousness slowly retreats as arousal takes its place. Seulgi knows it's wrong. She has never thought about Joy this way. She would've never dared to kiss her without consent, even if she wanted to. But her lust driven body seems to have a mind on its own now.

The two women loose themselves far too quickly. While their kiss continues, Seulgi undoes the two buttons on Joy's top, while Joy reaches for the zipper of Seulgi's skirt. The younger one lets out a moan as she feels her friend's leg between her own. It slightly presses itself against her core, stimulating Joy's already sensitive clit.

No words are being spoken as Seulgi pushes Joy's top off her tits, while Joy lets Seulgi's opened skirt glide down the older girl's legs. Their kiss finally breaks, when Seulgi leans down to kiss the younger girl's neck.

"Unnie..."

She sighs and places her hands on the other girls butt cheeks. She starts to knead them as Seulgi's lips travel lower. Soon, they latch onto Joy's right nipple. She arches her back off the couch in response, her body yearning for the other girl's touch. At the same time, her hands have now pulled Seulgi's cheeks apart and two fingers dive towards her core.

The sound that escapes Seulgi's lips is half squeal, half moan. Joy's fingers penetrate her lower lips. Her thumb automatically rests on her asshole due to their position. Only a little bit of pressure makes Seulgi suck harder on Joy's nipples.

The two of them lose track of time as they pleasure each other. After a while, they find themselves in Joy's bed with Joy on the bottom and Seulgi on top, eating each other out.

The younger girl has really gotten a good taste of Seulgi's pussy by now. She can't tell if it's just the spell, but she really seems to enjoy it. If she could, she would feast on Seulgi's pussy the entire night, making her a squealing mess. But Seulgi's tongue works her own pussy too, making Joy almost fall apart every three seconds. Both their bodies are way more sensitive than they usually are. Side effects of the spell.

"Unnie..."

Joy moans, when she feels Seulgi slip two fingers inside her cunt. The older woman's tongue flicks against her clit and the woman on the bottom starts to loose it. Her thighs tremble as Seulgi does her best to push Joy towards her third orgasm of the night. The younger girl is unable to return the favour, moaning out loud and shaking underneath her friend.

"Please, mommy....."

If she wasn't about to climax, Joy would've felt immense shame in that moment. What did she just call Seulgi?

But she can't think about that now. Seulgi adds a third finger, properly stretching out Joy's pussy. Her tongue keeps flicking against her clit, making Joy's hips rise off the bed.

"Mommy!"

Joy crashes down. The shame and pleasure mix together as her orgasm rolls through her. Her body is a mess. Hair glistening with sweat and their combined juices. Her pussy is leaking and her whole body is glazed with a thin layer of sweat.

"I'm sorry, unnie. I-"

Seulgi gets off of her and turns around. She kisses Joy's lips to shut her up.

"Say it again."

"What?"

Joy is confused. It was an embarrassing slip up and she thought Seulgi would be mad or disgusted. But as she watches her climbing on top of Joy, the opposite seems to be the case.

"Tell me what a good girl you are."

The younger woman is shocked by Seulgi's sudden dominant attitude. But she starts to moan when Seulgi begins to ride her. Their two pussies meet whenever Seulgi sinks down. One hand is placed flat on Joy's midriff, while the other applies pressure to both of their clits.

"I don't-"

Joy's reply is cut short by Seulgi pinching Joy's clit. A spike of pain and pleasure rushes through her system.

"Mommy....."

Joy hisses as Seulgi continues to ride her.

"I-I've been a good girl for mommy. Right?"

Seulgi's head rolls back, her mouth open as a moan escapes her lips. Joy instinctively holds onto Seulgi's waist. So this how it feels like when someone rides you? It's the first time Joy experiences this, but she can understand why her boyfriend likes it, whenever she does it. But her thoughts quickly focus back on Seulgi as she quickens her pace.

Although, it's actually more grinding than riding. The friction of their pussies rubbing together makes the two women moan in union. Joy's hands wander towards Seulgi's ass and she squeezes her cheeks, appreciating how firm they are.

"Yes, grope my ass. Bad girl."

Seulgi moans and she reaches for Joy's tits in return. The two of them grind against each other, while their hands play with the other's body. Joy's eyes are glued to Seulgi's abs, which look so damn amazing when they are slightly glistening with sweat.

The younger girl sits up, needing to have a taste. Seulgi lets out an appreciative sigh, when she feels Joy's tongue on her midriff. She feels the saltiness of Seulgi's sweat on her tongue as Joy traces along the lines of the older girl's abs.

"Now you're being a good girl."

Seulgi strokes her hair. She keeps riding Joy, constantly increasing the pleasure they both feel. Soon, their bodies become one. Neither of them can tell where her body ends and the other one's begins.

"Mommy...."

Joy moans again as she feels the pressure and friction at her core becoming too much to handle.

"Yes, baby. Me too...."

The two of them lock eyes. Their dark orbs are glistening with lust. Seulgi tilts her head and captures Joy's lips one last time.

As their bodies shake in union, both girls moan into each other's mouths. Joy can barely feel the pain of Seulgi biting her lip. They fall onto the bed, their bodies working through their orgasms individually.

Shame and embarrassment run through her veins as Joy just lies in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Seulgi is lying next to her. The two of them are still catching their breaths, but they're back to their old selves.

"I'm sorry."

Joy's voice sounds broken.

"This is all my fault."

Seulgi would've shook her head, if she wasn't too tired.

"Why would this be your fault? I started it. I should take responsibility."

"You don't understand."

Joy hesitates. Is she really going to reveal her secret?

"I.... There-There is this book. I-I used it on you."

"What book?"

"A book full with spells. About.... About sex."

She closes her eyes, afraid Seulgi will laugh at her. But the older woman stays silent for a while.

"Magic doesn't exist, Joy."

The younger girl can hear the worry in her voice.

"It does. Why do you think all of this just happened? I-I used a spell."

"A spell? So that I become...."

Seulgi feels her cheeks heating up.

"So that I become turned on?"

"Kinda."

Joy doesn't want explain it further.

"And-And this book. Is it dangerous?"

"I don't think so. As long as you're able to control yourself, it's actually pretty good."

Joy hears how Seulgi turns her head to look at her. She tears her eyes off the ceiling and looks into her friend's eyes.

"Can-Can I see it?"

After taking a proper shower, without another incident, the two women sit side by side on Joy's bed, flipping through the book.

"And you tried all of them?"

Joy shakes her head no.

"A couple."

Joy turns the next page.

"The rapture of flowing rivers"

"I tried that one."

"What happened?"

Seulgi looks at her with genuine curiosity. Joy hesitates, although the two of them just made each other cum and have talked about sex since then.

"You... You squirt a lot."

"Really? I think I've never done that before. What does it feel like?"

"Well,..."

Joy remembers the day she tried out that spell.

"It feels like you need to pee while you climax. It makes your orgasm feel way better. Instead of holding it in, you just have to let it go. Or in this case"

She nods towards the spell.

"You don't have a choice."

"How much did you squirt?"

"I'm not sure. But you probably could've filled a whole bottle after one time."

"Wow."

Seulgi's eyes are wide open in awe as she keeps looking through the book. Eventually she reaches the last spell.

"Spell of summoning: The Incubus rite"

"Have you tried this one?"

"No I haven't. I can't do it alone."

"Why not?"

"Like I showed you earlier, some spells require specific objects or actions. Part of this one is having three different attributes, if you can call them that. You need to have a romantic partner, you need to have had sex within the last couple of days and at the same time you shouldn't have had a lot of sex yet. I feel like the instructions are trying to tell the caster that three people need to perform this spell."

"And what is it good for? Isn't the Incubus something like a Succubus?"

"Yes. The male version. It says this Incubus will fulfill your every desire, once you summon him. The instructions say he has no limits."

"That sounds amazing. Do you have anything that you'd wish for? I'd think most of the other spells got you covered already."

"You think he is like a... Sex genie?"

"If it says, he has no limits, yeah? What else would he do?"

"It doesn't say anything about wishes here."

"Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Joy thinks about Seulgi's question.

"I don't know.... I guess... I guess me and my boyfriend could maybe..... I don't know... Improve something."

Joy feels awkward as she is admitting that her sex life isn't going as well as she'd like.

"I get it. Guys can be disappointing sometimes."

The two of them chuckle.

"What about you?"

Seulgi shrugs her shoulders.

"I've always wanted.... I don't know... A bigger chest? I love to touch them when I'm alone. But guys don't seem to be very interested."

"What are you talking about? You have... A nice chest."

"Well,"

Seulgi blushes a little more.

"I just wish it would be a little bigger. But I definitely don't want a doctor to do something, you know? That feels unnatural."

"And this doesn't?"

Joy raises an eyebrow and points at the book.

The two women laugh at the situation. Neither of them would've ever imagined having this conversation with each other.

"Stop playing with me."

Yeri rolls her eyes at Joy.

"A sex book? Please."

The youngest looks around the practice room.

"Is that some sort of prank? Where is the camera?"

"This isn't a prank, Yeri. Do you think I'd say something like that in front of a camera?"

Yeri sighs. She knows Joy wouldn't. But it still sounds like a joke to her.

"Who would even come up with that? Are you telling me wizards and witches are real?"

"I don't know. I just know it works."

Yeri hesitates. She can tell by looking at Joy's eyes that she does seem genuine. But she just can't understand the words that are coming out of her mouth.

"And the two of you really...."

She looks at Seulgi, who immediately blushes.

"Yes, we did."

Joy takes Yeri's hand.

"At least try it. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"I still don't believe you. You want me to be there so you can summon some sex demon? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I-"

"Hi guys!"

Wendy greets the three girls as she steps into the practice room, Irene close behind. The girls all look at her with wide open eyes as if she just caught them doing something weird.

"We should get started. Our schedules are all full."

Irene takes the lead and the five of them soon start practice.

Joy feels a burning need inside of her as she continues to dance. She wasn't sure about telling Yeri all of this. But she knows the younger girl doesn't have a lot of experience yet. And now that she did it, her urge to finally do this last spell keeps on eating at her. Her whole body is asking for it. If this could really enhance her sex life with her boyfriend...

Seulgi keeps glancing at Yeri from time to time. Even for her it still feels odd to believe that all of this is true. But it makes sense. What happened that night at Joy's was not within her control. She could feel how something else influenced her actions. How her body was suddenly burning with lust for her friend. How good it felt when they made each other cum...

Yeri feels how the two older women look at her from time to time. She still doesn't believe them. But she can't help but daydream. A book with spells about sex? So far her sexual experiences have been rather disappointing. Not like there were a lot of them anyway. Maybe the book could help her out? Yeri almost has to laugh. Yeah sure. It's gonna make her a guy who knows what to do with her body. Who knows how to make her feel good. Who can be gentle. But also rough if she needs it....

After practice, Yeri has almost forgotten about Joy's and Seulgi's ridiculous idea. The two of them didn't talk about it again. After she got home, Yeri took a shower and put some new clothes on. She was just about to throw her outfit from practice earlier into the washing machine, when a note falls out of her pocket.

Yeri picks it up and reads what is written on it.

"You just need to read it out loud. Have fun."

The text underneath looks like a poem. The ending part seems to be written in Latin.

"Oh please. Very funny Joy."

She noticed it's the older girl's handwriting.

Yeri throws the note into the garbage and gets comfortable on the couch. She ordered something to eat earlier and is now preparing herself for a nice and relaxed night. Herself, food and Netflix. What else would she need to make this day any better?

She already put on something comfortable. Pink, fluffy jeans and a matching short crop top.

Just when she finished putting a blanket on the couch and rearranged the cushions, the doorbell rings.

Yeri's stomach is already calling out for the food as she walks towards the door.

"Thank you. How much is it?"

She smiles at the girl who hands her the tteokbokki.

She pays with her phone and closes the door behind her. After getting a pair of chopsticks and a chocolate bar out of the kitchen, Yeri gets comfortable on the couch. She turns on her TV. She's about to to open the container where the tteokbokki is in, when she sees a note on top of it. The note!

"What the fuck?"

Yeri quickly jumps to her feet and runs over to check the garbage. It's not in there. How the hell did the note move by itself? That's impossible.

She shakes her head and throws it back into the trash. Maybe she didn't throw it away earlier. But now she definitely did.

When Yeri sits back down on the couch, her eyes widen in horror. There is the note. On top of the container.

"What?"

Yeri doesn't know what to do. Is she drunk or drugged or something? Slowly realization hits her. Or is this magic? Did Joy really speak the truth? Is this possible?

With shaking fingers, Yeri picks up the note again. Maybe she should use the spell? If it's real, it might make her night even better. But what if- Joy said it isn't harmful.

Yeri hesitates for a little while, but eventually decides to go for it. Nothing is going to happen anyways.

"Here I go. The enchantment of lingering bliss. Very creative."

Yeri clears her throat and then starts to read.

"By the silken thread of desire’s dance,

I call forth pleasure with each glance.

Let every touch ignite a fire,

But leave the heart in sweet desire."

She pauses for second. Not exactly sure why. Yeri tries to feel something. But it seems like everything is the same.

"Per tactum lenem et ardorem quietum;

Gaudium augeatur, sed solutio vetetur."

Still nothing. At least that's what she thinks. The spell is already affecting her. A specific part of her body has just been disconnected from another one, until the spell wears off. Something deep inside of her.

"With breath held tight and senses keen,

Let longing rise, pure and unseen.

May bliss increase with every trace,

Yet never reach its final place."

Yeri holds her breath. But she still doesn't catch anything odd.

"I knew it."

She mumbles and throws the note onto the coffee table. As she takes the lid off the container, her fingertips suddenly tingle.

"What-"

Before she can even react, Yeri has already unbuttoned her jeans. One hand is diving inside, while the other slips underneath her top. Just moments later, she is already rubbing her clit and pinching her nipples at the same time.

"Oh, gosh."

Yeri's head rolls back. Pleasure overwhelming her, while she is still trying to figure out what happens.

"Oh, please. Just once."

Yeri almost starts crying as she looks at herself through the mirror. She is basically kneeling on the floor in her bedroom, right in front of her mirror. The dildo she owns is deep inside of her as she keeps impaling herself on it. She decided to keep her top on, while her jeans are gone. For some reason it makes her look much hotter. How her tits look so much better than usual. And how it shows off her tight midriff.

"I'm begging you..."

Yeri isn't talking to anyone in particular. Maybe her own body.

"Just this once."

A lonely tear rolls down her cheek.

For the past six hours, Yeri has been trapped at the very edge of the most intense orgasm of her life. Whatever she does, she can't take the next step and finally fall into the sea of pleasure she is longing for so much. Nothing seems to help. She tried so much already. Even put on some porn, while she was masturbating, but even that didn't help. Watching herself riding a cock was her last, desperate attempt for release.

Yeri can feel how she is almost there. How her sensitive walls grip onto the plastic inside of her. How her clit seems to burn as she keeps rubbing it furiously. She leans back, her other hand supporting her, and tries to make her tits look even bigger. Maybe when she looks like a real slutty whore, she might be able to cum. She is ready to degrade herself even further, if she needs to. Whatever it is, she'd do it now.

"What have you done to me, unnie?"

Another tear rolls down her cheek and she watches herself on and on as she keeps riding the dildo.

"I thought you'd never come."

Joy greets Yeri as she enters the room.

The newcomer glares at her.

"Last night was the worst night of my life. "

"Oh, don't exaggerate. But you now admit that magic exists, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Yes, just get it over with. I-I need it."

Her urgent glare tells Joy Yeri still can't orgasm. But it seems like her arousal and lust have died down.

"Okay, we're almost done with preparations."

Yeri looks around the room. The moonlight illuminates the walls, decorated with paintings of flowers and sceneries. Everything looks old. The reason for that is, that three of them are inside an old palace. Joy told her that the spell has to be executed at a specific place. But she didn't say, why she chose this palace. Or how she got a key.

Yeri sees Seulgi building a circle of flowers in the middle of the room. The book is lying at the center of it. Opened. She can see the part where it says all the participants need to be wearing similar, simple clothes. That's why the three of them are wearing their dress from their Chill Kill photoshoot.

"What do we need to do now?"

"Take this."

Joy hands her two red pieces of silk.

"The two of you need to put one of that into your hair. Like a bow. And the other needs to tie your wrists together."

"Why? And what about you?"

"I don't know why. The book says so. But I think it's to show the Incubus that we are not just asking him for something, but that we're also his servants. Kinda like give and take you know? We acknowledge that he is more powerful than us."

"Okay...."

Yeri is still not completely convinced. But the still burning desire to cum is getting stronger again.

"And I have to wear that red bow to, stand in the middle of the circle and cast the spell."

"Alright then. Unnie..."

Yeri calls for Seulgi and does as Joy told her. Seulgi stands outside the circle now, visibly nervous as Joy does the same to Yeri.

With a red bow in her hair as well, Joy steps into the circle of flowers and picks up the book.

"Alright."

She takes a deep breath.

"Here we go."

Both Yeri and Seulgi close their eyes. Not because they need to, but because their nervousness increases with every second.

"By the flames of desire and the shadows that entwine,

I invoke the ancient powers that dwell beyond time.

From the depths of the Abyss and the halls of dark pleasure,

I call upon the spirit of lust, the guardian of hidden treasure.

He who walks in dreams, he who feeds on longing -

I summon thee, Incubus, to this mortal plane!"

Joy's voice is the only sound in the room. Yeri digs a nail into the palm of her hand as she feels the temperature rising a little.

_"Venite, daemon libidinis, ex umbris aeternis;

Per sanguinem et carnem, te constringo, Sathariel.

Per ardorem infernum et lunam crescentem,

Maneas in vinculis mei voti, daemon carnis."

Seulgi raises her head. Now she is hearing more than just Joy's voice. It sounds like distant screams. Very far away. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. What if Joy is literally summoning the devil right now? What if they all go to hell?

"By the blood of passion and the crescent moon's glow,

I bind thee to this circle, spirit from below.

Manifest thy form, and heed my call;

Cross the veil between worlds and let desire enthrall.

I summon thee now, Sathariel, demon of ecstasy and night,

Appear before me and fulfill the pact under this moonlight."

A strong wind sweeps through the open windows and cools down the room again. Everything is silent again. No one is speaking a word. Yeri and Seulgi both hold their breaths.

And Joy?

"In the name of the dark Lord."

You curse and growl as you feel yourself being trapped. A moment ago, you were still at home, sitting on your throne, overlooking your own personal part of hell. Dedicated to people who committed sexual crimes in their lives.

As you now open your eyes, you look down on yourself. You're trapped in human form. How long has it been since the last time? The concept of time is different in hell than on earth.

You examine your hands. Then you reach for your chest. You grope it twice. You've seen bigger, but they feel nice and firm.

Joy feels like someone has taken over her body. It's not the same as with the spells. Before, it always felt like the magic just influenced her actions and she at least had free will to some degree. But now, someone else has taken over her body. Someone dark. She can't do anything. Only see what he sees. Only feel what he feels.

You take in your surroundings. Your eyes, or rather your host's eyes, fall on the two women, who stand with their backs towards you. Just like the ritual says, they both wear red bows and have their wrists loosely tied together.

With a snap of your fingers, the red silk tightens. The women gasp in surprise. You step closer and take a deep breath. They both smell amazing.

"J-Joy?"

Is that your host's name?

"What is your name, woman?"

Yeri shakes as she hears Joy's voice. It is definitely hers. But it sounds a little deeper. More evil.

"S-Seulgi."

Seulgi doesn't dare open her eyes.

"Seulgi."

For some reason the older girl relaxes a little as her name rolls off Joy's tongue.

"Korea it is."

You lean over the other girl.

"And you?"

Yeri jumps as she feels you whispering into her ear.

"Yeri."

Her breathless whisper makes you take a step back.

"Don't be afraid, girls. I don't bite. If you don't want me to."

Seulgi and Yeri exchange a worried glance.

"The two of you need to relax more. It'll be easier for all of us."

"W-Why?"

You chuckle as you place a hand on Seulgi's shoulder.

"Because you summoned me. And while I wander this earth..."

You place a kiss on top of Seulgi's head.

"you belong to me."

"E-Excuse you?"

Yeri finally turns around. She looks at Joy's body. It is hard for her to picture you inside of her.

"Didn't you read the whole book? Once you summon me, there's only one way to make me go back."

"A-And that is?"

"I must feel satisfied."

"You mean as in..."

"Yes, Yeri."

You reach out and place a finger under her chin.

"You must serve me, until you've probably satisfied me. Then, I'll leave."

"And if we don't?"

Yeri watches how an evil grin plays around your lips.

"Let me show you."

You grab her shoulders and turn her around again. Taking both girl's necks into each of your hands, you push them onto their knees. They both gasp in surprise and struggle against your grip. But they don't stand a chance. Pushing forward, you bend them over. After you've flipped up their skirts, you place a hand on each of their butts.

"The two of you definitely have potential. And I bet the third one does as well."

Joy feels ashamed as she can feel herself caressing her member's butts. This is not at all what she had in mind. Why is this person in control of her body?

"I haven't tasted a woman in centuries. I'm almost dying of thirst."

You pull both their panties to the side. Choosing Yeri as the lucky winner, you lean down and place a kiss on one of her cheeks. You spread them apart with one of Joy's hands, exposing the younger girl's holes. At the same time, you place your fingers on Seulgi's folds.

The two girls moan at the exact same moment. Yeri feels your tongue glide along her lips, while Seulgi feels how you push two fingers inside of her.

"Delicious."

You lick your lips and then dive in properly.

The two girls try to resist at first, but it's in vain. They try to fight their rising desires to feel pleasure. Their bodies can naturally tell that you are the gateway to eternal satisfaction. Their minds are still trying to think properly. But you know, they won't last long.

After a long night of edging herself without being able to cum, Yeri is the first who begins to crack. Her abs give up and her face is now on the floor. You keep eating her out, basically devouring that sweet cunt. Your fingers are flicking against her clit in a steady rhythm.

At the same time, Seulgi feels your fingers move in and out of her pussy. When you curl them upwards, she starts to lose it as well.

"Yes. That's good."

She moans. Not as loud as Yeri, but loud enough for you to smirk.

Although the two girls seemed clueless and unwilling at the beginning, they now seem to fully embrace the roles of being your new playthings.

Soon, you have them right where you want them.

"Ask me for it."

"W-What?"

Seulgi is barely able to hold it together.

"Ask for my permission."

"P-Please make me cum."

Yeri is the first to beg.

"I haven't cum in so long. Please."

You stop eating her out and push two fingers inside of her as well.

"Oh, gosh!"

You finger the two of them at the same time, watching how their bodies react. Yeri's tight pussy clenches down on your fingers and Seulgi's legs start to shake.

"Good girls. The more you cum, the stronger I get."

Yeri breaks first. It's probably the hardest she's ever had. After a whole night and a whole day of denial, her body releases all of that built up pleasure. She whines and moans, almost drooling on the floor as her orgasm overwhelms her.

Seulgi is no different. She climaxes a second later.

Both your hands are coated in their juices as you feel a familiar fire burn inside of you. It's still weak, but you know it's only gonna grow stronger.

"You're doing great, girls."

You give both of them appreciative spanks. As you do so, you can feel how Joy's body reacts. You feel what she feels. Her pussy is wet by now. But you still have another surprise in store for her.

"Let's see how long it takes, until you loose the ability to think."

You insert your fingers into their waiting pussies once more. Curling them upwards, you hit their g-spots every single time. The two of them moan and whine in union. You place your thumbs on each of their clits and start to rub them.

"Oh god, yes!"

Yeri almost squeals as you send even more pleasure through her system. You feel how Seulgi starts to move back against your hand, whenever you push your fingers forward.

It doesn't take them as long to cum as the first time. But now, they both climax at the exact same moment. You caught Seulgi's rushed ask for permission, but Yeri's mouth only let out wordless moans.

"You should've asked for permission."

You give Yeri's ass a slap.

"S-Sorry."

"Master."

A harder slap.

"S-Sorry, master."

"You are the bratty one of you three, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, master."

"Better teach you a lesson, before it turns into a bad habit."

You raise your hand for another slap, but the fire inside your rises higher than you expected. Joy's body starts to change as your powers grow.

"Perfect timing."

You snap your fingers and a chair, which was standing in the corner, moves towards you. Sitting down on it, you reach for Yeri and Seulgi. You place Seulgi on your right, head resting on your thigh. And you put Yeri over your left thigh.

As you do all of that, Joy feels how her body changes as well. Something is going on underneath her dress. Her panties suddenly feel smaller. And she isn't really wet anymore. Rather.... Hard.

Realization hits Joy like a truck. She can see how a bulge forms underneath her dress. She has a dick!

You can feel Joy's surprise and horror. It makes you chuckle.

"Come on, Seulgi. Be a good girl and get to work."

You pull Joy's dress up. Seulgi's eyes grow wide as she sees your cock underneath Joy's panties. She needs to use her teeth to pull the panties down. Her hands are still tied behind her back. Carefully, she gives it a kiss. Then another one. And finally, Seulgi opens her mouth and takes the tip inside.

Joy groans inside of you. This the first time she ever felt this kind of pleasure. And it doesn't feel bad at all. Her brain becomes even more messed up as Seulgi continues her blowjob.

But you focus on Yeri now. One spank follows the other. You hit both her cheeks equally often. Each slap makes Yeri gasp and whine. While you enjoy Seulgi's lips around your cock, you don't stop hitting Yeri. Soon, her cheeks start to turn red.

"P-Please, master. I'll be good from now on."

"I don't think you'll be able to do that, honey."

"No, please."

You keep spanking the poor girl as Seulgi keeps sucking you off. She manages to take almost all of you into her mouth, but that means your tip grazes the back of her mouth from time to time, making her gag when that happens.

"You better hurry up, Seulgi. Otherwise, Yeri won't be able to sit tomorrow."

You feel the older girl speeding up.

"Master, I'll be a good girl. I promise."

Another spank shuts her up.

At the same time, Joy feels an unfamiliar pull around her core. Is this how it feels when a guy cums? It's different from her usual orgasms.

You push Seulgi's head down a little further, making her take every single inch, until her lips kiss your base.

The incoming orgasm makes you move your hand from Yeri's ass to her pussy. Once more, you start to finger her. Her cheeks glow red and her pussy already contracts around your fingers.

"P-Please, c-can I cum?"

Seems like she learned her lesson. For now.

"Please, master. I took your spanking so well, didn't I?"

"Cum."

You growl and Yeri shakes and whines on top of your thigh.

At the same time, Seulgi finally manages to make you cum. Or rather manages to make Joy cum. Sperm fills her mouth, threatening to spill out as it doesn't seem to stop. Seulgi hesitates for a second, but then starts to gulp it down.

"Finally."

You groan, feeling how the last of your powers has been restored. You get pushed out of Joy's body. Your host almost falls off the chair as she feels you leave, her orgasm still overwhelming her.

Looking down on yourself, you're curious what the three of them have cooked up. Your human form must be the combination of their ideal men combined. You notice your hard abs and your biceps. When you look at the three of them, you realize they're all staring at your crotch.

You almost laugh, amused by their wide eyes.

Joy, Seulgi and Yeri all have the same thought.

"No way in hell is that gonna fit."

Your cock is the biggest the three of them have ever seen. Joy can't help but compare you with her boyfriend. Just by looking it seems like you're at least three times longer than him. And around two times thicker as well.

As you step closer, you snap your fingers once more. The same red silk that is still wrapped around Seulgi's and Yeri's wrists now winds itself around Joy's hands as well.

Once you reach them, they all examine your cock closer. Seulgi carefully places her own arm next to it for reference. Her eyes seem to fall out of her head when she realizes you're almost as long as her whole arm.

"This is gonna be a long night for you, huh?"

You chuckle as you reach for the bow on Joy's head. She's sitting right in front of you so you move her head towards the tip. She keeps her eyes on it, but almost as if she is in a trance, she parts her lips and you glide into her wet mouth.

When Joy starts to suck you off, her tongue swirling around your tip from time to time, you reach out for the other girls. You pull them in as well, each on one side. The three of them use their mouths to pleasure you, while you just enjoy the show.

Joy keeps on trying to take more and more. You see how her lips stretch over your cock. Your tip hits the back of her mouth and forces her to gag. Yeri and Seulgi both kiss and lick along your length on both sides. Seulgi's eyes are closed and she seems to get really into it. Her kisses become sloppier. Yeri on the other hand still can't seem to wrap her head around how big you are. While she keeps doing her job, you feel her trying to wrap her hands around your cock. It takes both of them to go around just once. You see her gulp, knowing what is eventually going to happen.

"Don't worry."

You play with Yeri's hair.

"I'll take it slow at first."

She looks so pretty when she looks up at you, her lips glued to your cock. You can see the uncertainty in her eyes. But by caressing her cheek, you make a small wave of lust rush through her body. A second later, Yeri starts to get into it just as much as Joy. She now uses her hands to stroke your base, while her lips glide along your shaft.

"Good girl."

Your praise increases Yeri's lust even further. She can feel how much she is slowly getting turned on by pleasuring you. Until now, she was almost afraid you'd fuck her with such a big cock. Now, she can barely wait for it. She wants to at least try it.

"Naughty slut."

Your words are directed at Joy, who is slowly reaching her limit. She is trying to force your cock down her throat, but your tip is almost to big to fit.

"You have to do it slowly. Ease into it."

The longer Joy has your cock in her mouth, the wetter she becomes. Unlike Yeri and Seulgi, her lust has taken over her body for a while now. She is influenced by the book the most. As you slowly guide her head back and forth, you realize that by the end of the night, Joy might loose her free will. If she keeps this up, her urges will take over and she'll become a mindless sex toy for you.

You smile at the thought. It has been a while since your last toy.

You have finally warmed up Joy's throat enough. You push further and now she can take your tip down her throat. Not without gagging, of course. Spit falls onto the floor as she tries to take more than she can handle. You keep pulling her towards you, making Joy impale her throat on your cock.

When you now focus on Seulgi, you are surprised how well she is doing. She looked too shy at first, but it seems the book has already influenced her enough as well. Looking into her soul, you can tell what her fantasies are.

"We will need to prepare you, if you really want to take it."

"Please, master. Whatever you want."

Seems like she learns faster than Yeri. While the two other girls keep servicing your cock, you pick up Seulgi as if she weighs nothing and bend her over the chair. You hike up her skirt and snap your fingers.

A small metal object lies in your hand. You reach down and place it right on Seulgi's asshole.

"Wait! Is that-"

"Yes. Don't worry. It won't hurt."

You play with her cheeks, while you push the butt plug inside. It's not really big, but that will change soon. Seulgi feels how you push it into her tightest hole, making her moan. She always dreamed of doing this, but never tried. Now she regrets it. It feels amazing.

Once the butt plug is inside of her, you reach down and push your fingers into her pussy once more. Seulgi's moans begin to fill the room once more. While Joy and Yeri keep sucking you off, you fuck Seulgi with your fingers. You glance at the two other girls, when you notice a change. Yeri seems to have become greedy. She is now the one who is trying to fit your cock in her mouth, while Joy takes care of the rest of your cock. Which is not an easy task, but you feel her plump lips doing a good job.

"Damn."

Your head rolls back as you enjoy the two girls taking care of your cock. The last time you were summoned, you only had two girls to fuck. But these three looks so gorgeous, you wouldn't mind staying on earth a little longer. You can feel how your desire to finally fuck all of them keeps on growing. You've been playing nice so far. But soon enough, you won't be able to control yourself anymore.

"C-Can I cum, master? Please?"

Seulgi's shiness has now completely vanished as she shamelessly asks you for permission to cum.

"Do it. Be a good little slut."

Seulgi moans and whines as her body shakes and her pussy clenches onto your fingers. It seems like she has grown accustomed to have something inside her ass. You tap on the butt plug and start the progress. From now on, it's going to steadily grow a little bigger inside of Seulgi, until you pull it out. You're curious to what her limit is.

"Get all in a line."

You pick Seulgi off the chair and place her next to Joy, while Yeri kneels on Joy's right side.

Seeing the three of them lined up like that, you can't help but finally go for it. You lift Joy's dress, giving her butt a smack. The cock she got while you were inside of her disappeared as soon as you left. So now, you can enjoy her pussy to the fullest. You place you tip at her dripping wet entrance.

"Take deep breaths. Otherwise it won't fit."

Joy nods hesitantly.

You push inside. Slowly. Joy lets out a drawn out moan, which doesn't seem to end, until you stop moving. You doubt her pussy will be able to take much more than half your cock. But when you do push further inside, Joy feels how you hit her curvix.

Pleasure rushes through her system as you begin to fuck her properly. Every thrust feels so powerful and deep, Joy gets scared for her life, whenever you prepare to thrust inside of her again. Soon, her moans make it impossible for her to close her mouth. She starts to drool onto the floor. The two girls to her sides watch in awe and horror. Yeri can't wait for her turn. Her brain has basically switched off by now. Her gaze is focused on Joy's lips, which seem to be stretched out beyond repair. They tightly grip onto your cock, coating it in her juices.

Meanwhile, Seulgi can feel how the butt plug inside of her steadily grows. It doesn't hurt and is only slightly uncomfortable. But the new sensation feels way better than she thought it would. Then again, the plug is no way near your size. Are you really going to put that in her ass?

Seulgi feels a knot inside her stomach, just thinking about that. You'll probably break her ass. Just like what you're doing with Joy's cunt right now.

"Fuck! Master, please!"

Joy's mind has long given up. She has learned quickly and has turned into your personal pet. She is already addicted to the feeling of your huge cock inside of her. Whatever happens, she can't let you pull out.

"Let me cum, please. I'm a good whore for you, right?"

You spank her again.

"Your not even a whore. It would emply that you're good for something. But the only thing that's useful is your pussy."

"You're right, master. I'm sorry."

Joy's breathing becomes heavier as she tries to fight back her orgasm. She doesn't dare to cum without permission.

"So, what are you again?"

You hear her whimper.

"I'm my masters pet. His cocksleeve."

"That's right."

You thrust into her a little deeper, which makes her go cross-eyed. Her right cheek is pressed to the floor in a puddle of her saliva.

"Do you want to cum? All over my cock?"

"Yes. I need to do that. All over your cock inside of me."

Seulgi and Yeri barely register what is going on. The two of them are almost as far gone as Joy. They look at her pussy with envy as you keep stretching her out with every thrust. You aren't even going that fast or hard. But the pure size of your cock almost makes them cum too.

"I'll only let you cum under one condition. And afterwards, you won't ever need to ask for permission again."

"Yes, master. Please tell me. What do I need to do? I'd do anything."

"Good."

You lick your lips. That evil smile doesn't leave your face.

"Read the last page of the book."

"W-What?"

Joy's mind is barely able to comprehend what you said. After another snap of your fingers, the book lies in front of her, the last page opened. Her fuzzy brain ignores all the warnings on the upper half of the page. When she finally finds the right text, she starts reading it out loud, without knowing what it is.

"By the shadows that bind and the fire that consumes,

I surrender myself unto thee, spirit of endless night.

My mind, my body, my pleasure—each are thine to command.

From this moment to all eternity, I am bound to thy will.

In darkness, I am yours; in light, I remain thine.

Let no force sever this vow, for I am forever yours."

Her vow gets interrupted by her own moans several times, but eventually, Joy finishes it.

You keep fucking her, letting her hang on the edge a little longer. Then you lean down as you feel a new found fire inside of you. There is no going back anymore.

"You're mine now."

You whisper into Joy's ear. And she can't hold it in any longer. She violently orgasms around your cock. Her pussy clenches onto your length with unbelievable force. More drool leaks out of her mouth and weak moans as well.

"That's it. The last part of your journey."

Your ability to cum isn't the same as the human one. You do cum, when you feel enough pleasure, but you can also orgasm on purpose. It doesn't feel as good, a little forced even, but it's part of the ritual.

And so you unload deep inside Joy's twitching body. You paint her pussy, shoot your load into her womb. You're claiming her body, after she has given herself to you. Your newly gained sex slave tries to catch her breath as she feels your warm cum literally flood all of her insides. Her whole body seems to heat up.

"Oh, god!"

Her eyes roll to the back of her head as you start to pull out of her messy pussy. She is so tight that it takes you a good half minute, until your whole cock is free again. You examine your work. Joy's gaped pussy is wide open, an unholy amount of cum leaking out of it.

You can't enjoy the view for too long though. The little brat on Joy's right has already turned around to suck her juices and your cum off your cock. Groaning, you look down on her.

"What a slut you are."

You reach over to spank her ass again. Yeri mewls, but keeps your cock inside her mouth. Her body jerks with every slap. Her cheeks turn red once more. When she finally does stop she looks up at you.

"Please, master. I just need it so bad. I'll be your pet too. Please?"

You shake your head.

"You need to learn some patience. Lie on your back. You take your punishment until I'm done with Seulgi."

Yeri nods, excited, because it seems easy. She lies down and moves her head. She watches you kneel behind Seulgi. The oldest is, just like Joy, bent over, ass up, face on the floor.

The butt plug wasn't a problem at first. But it has now become so big, that Seulgi is slowly losing her mind a little bit. Weak moans escape her lips. And she can't do anything, when she feels you tugging at the end of the metal object. It just makes her roll her eyes as more pleasure rushes through her system.

As you start to pull, the plug becomes smaller again. Once it's out, you look at Seulgi's open hole. Maybe now she'll be able to take at least some of your cock. You align yourself with her puckered ring and slowly push your tip in.

"Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god!"

Seulgi cries out. She's never been this stretched out. Not even in her pussy and definitely not her ass. She can't believe she is actually able to take you inside.

"Damned be the prince of darkness."

You curse under your breath. You expected Seulgi to be tight. But even after preparing her, this feels almost lethal. You're actually tempted to cum again already. Just to lube up her ass a little more. The plug produced a lubricant on its own. But it might not be enough now.

You feel how you hit Seulgi's limit deep inside of her. It makes her let out a weak yelp. Because she feels so unbelievably good, you almost forgot Yeri. You look at her now. Because her hands are still tied together, she can only rub her thighs against each other. But just making her watch won't be enough to break her. You snap your fingers.

When Yeri looks up, her eyes widen in fear. Three big red candles float above her body, right underneath the ceiling. They're all lit and soon, Yeri sees the first drop fall. She braces herself for the burning impact, biting her lips and closing her eyes.

"Ahh!"

The first drop hits her midriff. The hot wax burning her skin. Another drop. This one falls on her left cheek. Yeri moans in pain. She thought this would turn out to be horrible. But by the time the third drop lands on her thigh, dangerously close to her pussy, she realizes how good it actually feels. And then she notices that she is completely naked. When did that happen?

You turn your attention back to Seulgi, who is still breathing heavily, trying to get accustomed to your cock as deep inside her ass as possible.

She starts groaning and whining when you begin to move.

"Slowly, please."

She sighs, but you don't listen to her.

"Don't you want to be a good girl? Like Joy?"

Seulgi tries to nod.

"Yes, master. I'd do anything for you too."

"Good. You have to understand that I come first. You're here to serve me. Your pleasure is just a byproduct of that."

"You're right, master. I'm sorry. Use my ass however you like. Just pound me as hard as you want."

You can almost see how Seulgi's brain melts. You fuck her asshole a little faster, stretching her out even more. Glancing to your right, you notice how Joy hasn't moved yet. Her pussy is almost the same shape as before again. She is definitely breathing, so that's a good sign.

Yeri on the other hand, isn't as quiet. The never ending mixture of pain and pleasure makes her slowly lose her mind. Her whole body is glazed with hardening red drops of wax. It won't take long, until the pain completely fades out. Then, the only thing Yeri will be able to feel is pleasure.

"Master, you-you're going to-Oh!"

Seulgi almost orgasms in that very moment. You can tell how very close she is to cuming. You fuck her ass even faster on purpose.

"Master, please? Can you let me cum? I'm begging you..."

You let the book slide in her direction.

"You know the drill."

Without hesitation, Seulgi starts to read. If this is the only way for her to cum right now, she'll gladly walk on that path. No matter what happens afterwards.

"By the shadows that bind and the fire that consumes,

I surrender myself unto thee, spirit of endless night.

My mind, my body, my pleasure—each are thine to command.

From this moment to all eternity, I am bound to thy will.

In darkness, I am yours; in light, I remain thine.

Let no force sever this vow, for I am forever yours."

Once she said that last part, you push yourself even deeper inside of her. Seulgi lets out a cry.

"Cum."

Your order makes her thighs shake. Her pussy clenches around nothing, while her ass clamps down on your cock. That tight ring of muscles almost takes your breath away. You watch how Seulgi squirts onto the floor underneath her. Her gasps show her surprise. That was her first time.

Her brain is completely fried by now. And it only gets worse, when you cum inside of her as well. You breed Seulgi's ass, pushing your cum as deep inside of her as possible. Her tight hole tries to milk you dry.

You stay buried inside your new toy and look over to Yeri again. Her entire midriff is red by now. Some drops hit her tits as well. She isn't moaning or whining anymore. Just lying on her back, looking at you with glassy eyes. Whenever another drop falls, her body just jolts upwards for a second, but nothing else happens. Yeri has become numb. The only thing she can feel now is pleasure. You decide she's had enough punishment.

When you pull out of Seulgi, you watch how your cum leaves her asshole. It's gaping, just like Joy's pussy. You could almost fit your fist in there, if you wanted to. Just like Joy, Seulgi seems to have fallen into a deep slumber as well. Which is normal. The two of them will be back soon enough.

You now have Yeri all to yourself, without any distraction. When you walk towards her, you start to feel weird. This is odd. You thought your human form was the combination of their ideal man, like it always is. But now you start to change. Seems like Yeri has more than just guys with huge cocks in mind.

"U-Unnie?"

Yeri seems to recognize your new form.

"You're such a bad girl, Yeri."

Your voice belongs to a woman. It's cold and laced with disappointment.

"You really do like to be punished, don't you?"

"I-I'm sorry, unnie. Joy made me do it."

You almost have to chuckle as Yeri tries to throw her friend under the bus.

"Don't blame others. Just admit you're a bad girl."

You stand in front of her now. You realize that Yeri really does seem to like pain. You snap your fingers. The red silk around her wrists loosens. It flies into your hand. There, it turns black. Then hard. The end splits into two. Then four. Then eight. Small flames start to ignite on the tails of your wip.

"You know what to do."

Yeri quickly gets on her hands and knees. For some reason she suddenly is soaking wet at the sight of Irene standing in front of her, flaming wip in her hand.

She closes her eyes, bracing herself for the impact. A wosh cuts through the air and a cry follows soon after. Yeri moans as she feels her right butt cheek burn like fire. Another hit makes her other cheek burn as well.

"Please, unnie. Not so hard."

Yeri whines, but you can see how her juices are dripping off her lower lips and onto the floor. You didn't expect her to get so wet by her leader punishing her. But if that's what she desires, if that's what she needs, if that's what makes her submit to pure pleasure, so be it.

As your body is in Irene's form, you keep lashing Yeri, while marveling at how beautiful Irene must be in real life. Too bad she isn't here. She'd really improve the status of your collection. Such a gorgeous woman.

You don't stop lashing Yeri, making her arms and legs shake. Her cheeks are glowing in the darkest red, the imprints of the whip clearly visible. You lost count by now, but you might be at whip stroke number fifty. Or a hundred. You lift the whip again.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!"

You stop, looking down on Yeri.

"G-Give me the book. I'll serve you. I want to. Please, master."

You sigh.

"That's gonna be a problem. In this form, I can't have a cock. And that means, I can't cum inside or on you, claiming you as mine."

"B-But..."

You can tell how close Yeri is to tears. She is now more afraid of not being your slave than she was the first time she met you.

"I could leave this form and take on my own, real form. It might not be for you though."

"No, it's okay master. Whatever you need to do to claim me."

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You can basically feel how Irene's form starts to go up in flames. When you step out of the small inferno, a very small part of Yeri's brain hesitates. It's the last part that is still thinking straight. She looks you up and down. Your red skin is marked by tattoo sin a darker red, almost as dark as her own cheeks. You're taller than before and more muscular as well.

When Yeri's gaze reaches your head, she thinks it'd be a turn off. But she's wrong. For some reason, she only becomes even wetter when she sees your horns. Like the ones of a ram, they almost build a circle on either side of your head.

"Get over here."

You growl, your voice way deeper than before.

Yeri follows your order. Scooting closer, she opens her mouth, ready to suck you off. But you have slightly different plans in mind. You grab her head and start to fuck her face. Your cock repeatedly hitting the back of her mouth. Yeri soon starts to gag, drooling all over herself and the floor.

"Damn. Didn't expect your mouth to feel this good."

Yeri is barely able to give you a proud smile.

She just kneels in front of you, hands in her lap. She takes your face fucking like a good girl. She seems to have learned her lesson.

"Pick up the book."

You make it slide across the room, until Yeri feels it hit her knee. She picks it up and you regretfully leave her mouth. You are about to stroke yourself as she starts to read, but Yeri's hand is already on your cock, before you can do so. She jerks you off, while she reads from the book.

"By the shadows that bind and the fire that consumes,

I surrender myself unto thee, spirit of endless night.

My mind, my body, my pleasure—each are thine to command.

From this moment to all eternity, I am bound to thy will.

In darkness, I am yours; in light, I remain thine.

Let no force sever this vow, for I am forever yours."

"Damn."

You groan as Yeri's hand on your spit covered cock proofs too much. Even for you. Your load paints Yeri's whole face, covering it in cum. Her eyes are glued shut, her lips are covered by a heavy layer and her hair didn't get away without a couple of drops either.

You look at her as you relax. All three of them are now under your full control. In your presence, they now turn into obedient sex slaves, whenever you ask them to. They did it of their own free will. More or less.

"Oh, master. You're ruining me."

"That's the point."

Yeri keeps moaning as she looks down on herself. She is lying on her back again, while you fuck her pussy. Her belly is already bulging, after you came inside of her five times in a row. You never pulled out since the first time. Joy and Seulgi are kneeling on both of her sides. They lick and suck on her tits, while you pound her pussy.

"Master, breed me please..."

Yeri whines louder. She looks like she is a couple of months pregnant already anyway. You wonder if you could bulge her belly beyond repair, if you keep going. But you're getting impatient too.

"What a nice little cum dumpster you are."

You groan and fill Yeri with your seed for the sixth time.

When you slowly pull out, the four of you watch closely. As soon as your cock leaves her pussy entirely, all the cum inside of Yeri rushes out. Her messy, gaping, freshly fucked pussy is overflowing with cum. It doesn't seem to stop. Wave after wave leaves her body. The sticky fluid coats the floor between her legs.

You don't even have to say anything afterwards. Joy leans down and starts to lick your cum off the floor. She hums in satisfaction at the taste, her eyes blissfully closed.

"Just like that, Seulgi."

You groan as she keeps moving up and down.

When she finally confessed, you made her wish come true. It's only temporary, but now Seulgi has a bigger chest. Bigger than Joy or Yeri.

You feel her soft tits around your cock as she moves up and down your length. Her hands keep them together and she catches your tip with her mouth, whenever she is on the way down. Joy and Yeri both kneel next to her, waiting for your last orgasm. The sun is slowly coming up and the three of them have to go back to their normal lives. It'd be too suspicious if they all just stayed here until forever.

"M-Master, can you tell me how much you love my tits?"

Seulgi is still a little shy. You chuckle at her eagerness, knowing she always wanted this.

"They feel amazing, Seulgi. So soft and so big. They look perfect."

You feel her speeding up a little at your praise.

"Would you like to cum all over them?"

"Of course. How can I not, when they are so beautiful?"

Seulgi almost experiences a mini orgasm at your words, without any proper stimulation.

The sight of the oldest with her tits around your cock and the other two girls patiently waiting makes you finally reach your climax. You stand up and three girls open their mouths and stick their tongues out.

A moment later, you cum all over their faces. Like before, you cum a lot more than humans. But this time it's a lot, even for you. Their faces are soon completely covered and dripping with cum. If you'd close your eyes and they'd change places, you couldn't tell who is who.

The last two shots are dedicated to Seulgi, painting her tits in a beautiful white. Once you're finally finished, Joy leans over and puts your cock into her mouth. She starts cleaning it off. Meanwhile, the other two girls start to clean her face.

After the three girls look presentable again and are ready to leave, you open the book once more. This new century semes to be way more interesting then the last time you were here. You decide that you'll need to extend your vacation. After all, you are the personification of human pleasure. It'd be a shame if you wouldn't help out some of the humans at least a little bit.

The three girls watch, how you go up in flames and the book falls to the ground, closed. Then it opens on its own. The pages start turn themselves faster and faster. The letters on every page vanish, until the book reaches the last page. The dark ink disappears.

Joy picks up the book. They are their old selves. But slightly different. They remember everything that happened. They know you own them now. And they love it.

New words appear on the page. This time written with red ink.

"See you soon, girls."

----------------------

Hi everyone! Happy Halloween!

This might come out a little late for some people but I hope you can still enjoy it nonetheless.

Since this was originally a request from last year and this year again, I thought I should definitely write it. And I turned it into a Halloween themed fic, which was a rather spontaneous idea.

Have a great day!

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & THEM BEING GIRL DADS .

characters. zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham kaveh x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. augh dad | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

zhongli

tries to introduce your daughter to the concept of a tea ceremony with the assistance of madame ping – zhongli absolutely cannot keep a straight face when your daughter spits out the bitter liquid and instead opts for formula. at least she tried it, he laughs, and sits her tucked on his lap after she turns to him and asks for a 抱抱 (bào bào; to hug).

diluc

takes your daughter on a walk around the ragnvindr manor. visits from uncle kaeya are a regular sight, and the two brothers take one hand of your daughter's each before setting off. you trail behind them, smiling and taking photographs for memories. halfway through the walk, your daughter makes grabby hands for diluc.

kaeya

wants to play games with his daughter all day, but cannot – instead, he sneaks her into his office to play while he finishes his paperwork. when the little girl whines to be put on his lap, kaeya puts down everything he's doing to make sure that his little angel is comfortable in his arms. brings her home right after work as well. how cute!

childe

willingly plays dress up with your daughter!!! it's so so so cute. he'll come home, slumped on a couch and snoring – when your daughter climbs all over him like a human jungle gym. unfortunately, she got into your makeup stash, and it's evidence by her little masterpiece all over childe's face. he has to take pictures after, because the little artist said so.

neuvillette

his relationship with the melusines really just screams girl dad, doesn't it? but when the two of you have a biological daughter, his love for her cannot compare to anything else. he gently weaves his fingers through her hair, replicating his own hairstyle, with added braids in it. the little girl squeals with delight, because she looks like daddy.

alhaitham

alhaitham has taken up the duty of having daddy storytime, right before bed. your little girl curls up in his lap, clinging on to the same storybook he has read to her for the past... 40? 45? nights, in a row. alhaitham doesn't even need the storybook at this point, and even ends up creating new characters for the story. your girl loves it.

kaveh

is the primary source of entertainment for your daughter. she loves how her daddy can be so silly yet so... smart, at the same time. she probably doesn't even know what smart is – she just sees the huge books and papers that daddy brings home every day. but she loves him, because he plays with her and feeds her her favourite snacks.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx (send ask to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 5 (Part One)

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You let Mister Miller help you out of a slump and learn you might like a little pain

WC: 8.9k

CW: Reader as some descriptors (freckles, long hair etc) so this might be more of an original character vs female reader. Dom/Sub dynamics, pet names (sweet girl, baby, baby girl etc). More CW in red below the cut but will contain spoilers.

AN: THANK YOU for being sooooo patient with me while I delayed this chapter. This is only HALF of the chapter and as soon as my lovely @lotusbxtch beta's the other half I will post it. No pressure thought, bb!! I just couldn't WAIT to share this since you've all been so wonderful and supportive. Moodboard by me, dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

CW: riding crop, oral (male and female receiving), male masturbation, female orgasms, hand cuffs, deep throating/face fucking, descriptions of self doubt and panic attacks; reader is going through it, ok? Hair pulling, Joel is a bit mean but he does it with love and care. Joel being a consent and aftercare king.

Joel

Joel sits on the Trocadéro platform of Café de l’Homme, the birds chirping and the sound of rustling papers keeping him from getting too lost in his thoughts of you. Sarah sits across from him, a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower to their left, and a buying agreement typed out in French taking up most of the table. Joel might not look like it, but he can see himself eventually living out his years in either Paris or Italy. He speaks enough French and Italian to get by, but relies on Sarah to read over the contract for her new condo. His baby girl is a doctor and now that she’s almost a year into her surgery residency, this condo is her graduation present finally coming to fruition. 

He looks down at his phone, opening the text thread he has with you. He’s been trying to give you space to study this week, telling himself each day that this isn’t what you signed up for but he can’t help himself, and when you responded with a selfie of yourself in your maid discreetly polo the other day he knew there was no way he’d be able to keep that pledge to himself anymore. Joel looks at the time, factoring in the time change, and your LSAT retake is in a few hours. His thumbs move on their own.

Good Morning. Good luck on your LSAT today.

He attaches a picture of the coffee he had that morning before hitting send. 

The waiter comes by to take their orders, Sarah’s French flowing from her lips as easily as she breathes, happily telling the waiter what both her and her dad will have. Joel mutters a ‘merci’ as the waiter nods. 

Thank you. That coffee looks a lot better than mine.

A selfie of you, all pink cheeked and smiling follows. A paper to go cup with a plastic lid in your hand beside your face. 

Were you running?

“How’s it going over there?” Joel says over his phone screen to Sarah, her focus is intent on the stack of papers in front of her. 

“Shh, I’m reading,” she says lightly as the waiter opens an expensive looking bottle of white wine and pours a little for her to try. After taking her small sip and nodding at the waiter she looks to her dad. “What? I thought we were celebrating!”

He shakes his head, laughing at his daughter as both of them look back at what they were doing.

Yes. I run most mornings. Gotta clear my head.

What’s bothering you, sweet girl?

You know, you calling me that has the same effect as me calling you Mister Miller.

Ok, we’ll just call each other by our names then.

Joel is so wrapped up in his little bubble with you that he doesn’t notice Sarah sitting back and watching him as she sips her wine.

That’s no fun, let’s come up with safe nicknames.

He feels the side of cheek tug up. She’s so fucking cute.

Alright, I’m calling you giggles

What am I, a rodeo clown?

Joel laughs silently to himself, not realizing that he’s sporting a full and cheesy ear to ear grin across his face. 

Fine - Freckles

Eww, that’s what the mean girls in high school used to call me

Well the hot, successful man who owns a sex club and supplies your orgasms finds your freckles incredibly sexy. What’s my safe nickname?

“Who are you texting?” Sarah says, her voice thick with amusement. 

Joel clicks his phone shut, laying it face down on the table. He wipes the smile off his face and looks up at Sarah like a child who just got caught stealing candy. “No one. Just work stuff.”

“Uh huh, sure dad. I know that smile. Did you meet someone?”

Joel grabs his wine, taking a larger drink then necessary. A drink of someone who’s lying. There’s no way he can tell his daughter about this. Sure, Sarah knows about the club but they never talk about what goes on there. “No! Of course not. I’m too busy for that.”

Her eyes blink to his phone as it vibrates on the table, but he keeps his attention on Sarah, his wine glass looking comically small in his large hand. “I’ll just ask uncle Tommy.”

“Funny story, he’s been removed from the family.” He deadpans.

“Tess will tell me then,” Sarah says, her and her dad both challenging each other jokingly.

“Who? Never heard of a Tess before,” Joel says, crossing his arms. 

Sarah laughs into her wine glass, “Ok dad. Look, I want you to meet someone, so don’t hold back on my account. Seriously, you’re a catch and have been alone for a long time.”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you, Sarah. Not yet at least.” His phone vibrates again and she cocks an eyebrow before going back to her papers.

Joel scoops up his phone to read your texts.

Huh, suddenly I’m over being bullied. Weird.  Oh, I have the peeerrrfect nickname for you!

Go on, Freckles…

Sweet Cheeks, cuz seriously Miller, dat ass. 

Daaaammmnn!

You’re treading on mighty thin ice, baby girl 

Joel, I have a serious question…

Go on?

Are your suit pants tailored TO your ass?!

Joel chokes on his wine, trying to stifle his laugh.

“Alright, who is she?”

“Fine. I met someone, but she’s really young, like younger than you, Sarah. And she’s leaving soon for law school so it’s just best if I don’t talk about it.”

Sarah smiles at her dad. “First of all, I don’t care if she’s younger than me, especially seeing you smile like that. Do you have any idea how many of the girls at college wanted you? You're my dad, so it’s gross to say, but you were the campus DILF.”

Joel feels himself blushing as she continues, “Second of all, you don’t have to end things just because of school. Me and Wyatt maintained our relationship while I was in New York and he was in Seattle.” As she wiggles the pear shaped diamond on her left hand the waiter brings out their food, and Joel changes the subject to the condo that he just bought for his incredible daughter. 

Our little girl did it, Tiff. Thank you for giving her to me, he thinks.

You

“That’s time, everyone,” The proctor calls from the front of the stuffy, windowless room that you and forty five other law school hopefuls have been in for just over three hours. 

You let out a slow breath, cheeks puffing and eyes fluttering closed. You didn’t finish, last time you finished, and the proctor has been eyeing you the entire time. He knows, he fucking knows you aren’t nearly as qualified or as smart as the rest of the people in this room. That line from Gilmore Girls, something about having shiny Harvard hair is all your anxiety can focus on. The people in this room have Havard hair, even the men. You don’t belong here.

You’ve never been in a lower spot and after the high of the flirty text conversation with Joel this morning you didn’t anything could get you down. In the span of just a few hours you’ve been completely torn apart, you can feel the panic attack clawing greedily at your chest. You fucking blew it, all of it. You blew your chances at law school, you blew your future as a lawyer and, in turn, your future as a judge. You’ll be cleaning houses forever, and not that there’s anything wrong with being a professional maid, but it’s not your goal.

Maybe I was fucking stupid for only having one goal. Maybe I need to do something else with my degree. Maybe my father was right, I’m nothing and I’ll always be nothing. Maybe my mother was right too, I’m the smartest girl at home but the world is going to chew me up and spit me out. It’s doing that right now, isn’t it? 

Your feet take you to the locker where your phone’s been locked up, and then out to your car. You don’t notice the warm late March air when you leave the testing building and there's a good chance that you jay walked, narrowly missing being hit by a car as you walked to the parking lot. Before turning the key in the ignition you open your phone, there’s a little red bubble on the JMK app. When you tap on it you have a new calendar section and Joel has invited you to the club tomorrow night. You stare down at it, waiting and hoping to feel something. That excited giddiness you usually feel, or the butterflies that typically erupt in your stomach, but nothing comes. You close out of the app without accepting the invite and drive home. 

A soft knock on your door pulls you from the anxiety-ridden nightmares you’ve been slipping in and out of. In the first one, you were having your degree taken away. In the second, you were sitting on the end of the bed in Joel’s private room looking out a window into the voyeur room. Joel was walking another woman around, similar to how he did with you the first time. The one that your roommate interrupted involved you being completely naked while trying to find your first class at Harvard.

“Babe?” Odette’s calm voice fills your room, “You ok?”

You tap your phone screen: 9 pm. You’ve been passed out all afternoon and evening. 

“Ya, just had a hard day.” You try to move out from the blankets, but they’re tangled around your limbs; a clear sign that you were restless in your sleep.

“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza. You have a few more college letters too, I think three were in the mailbox today.” Her voice is light and excited, as if she’s trying to pump you up. 

“Thanks, O. I’ll, umm, I’ll be out in a sec.”

The door shuts gently and the tears finally come. Five minutes, you tell yourself, before you start sobbing into your pillow to not alert Odette. After your allotted crying time is up, you open your phone. Messages from Jamie and Laren are left on read before you slide into the JMK app and accept Joel's request to meet at the club tomorrow night. You join Odette for a late dinner, but there’s no way you’re opening those letters tonight. 

Cap drops you off outside of the club the next night. This seems to be the officially unofficial routine of being Joel’s sub and you aren’t sure why. Cap confirmed last time that he didn’t do this for the other girls; you don’t deserve special treatment.

Any treatment, really, you think. Even the little box of feelings in your mind feels the same way, sulking sadly in the dark corner you banished it to. 

The black marble foyer feels cold and mocking tonight, even with the beautiful hostess smiling brightly and greeting you by name. As you turn towards the entrance to the club, a man dressed in an impeccable black suit holds his arm out for you. 

“Good evening, Miss. Joel asked me to escort you to his room tonight.”

You nod, forcing a smile and a thank you. All this black feels like he’s walking you to your own funeral. As you step into the club there are people everywhere. Couples are dancing, people are taking up the tables and the barstools. The deep bass of the music thumps through the club and the nagging pressure behind your right eye threatens to pop it right from its socket. 

The security guard holds his wrist to the pad on the door and holds it open for you.

“Thanks,” you say again through another fake smile. 

The door clicks behind you and the music dulls, the only light on this side of the door comes from the propped open door of Mister Miller’s room. You rap your knuckles lightly on the door frame and Joel steps into view. Your eyes travel from his shiny black dress shoes, up the perfectly tailored black dress pants and fitted white dress shirt. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, exposing the strong muscle lined forearms that usually drive you wild. You stand there, waiting and hoping to feel something, but just like in your car yesterday, nothing comes. Meanwhile, he’s smiling at you as if he’s just discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. 

“Hi, my sweet girl,” Joel’s voice usually coats you like warm molasses, especially when he calls you his. But the rejection letters feel like they have plastered themselves onto you, seemingly creating a hard shell, keeping that miserable gray fog from escaping. 

“Hi, Mister Miller,” you say obediently, hoping he doesn’t notice anything is wrong. 

He motions for you to come inside, and pulls you into his arms as the door quietly clicks shut behind you. You wrap yours around his waist subconsciously as he presses his lips to your forehead. You’re sure the two of you have embraced like this before but right now it feels foreign. “What’s wrong?”

Fuck.

“Nothing. I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days. I’m sorry, I can go. I don’t want to drag you down.” Your hands fist his dress shirt, a silent cry for him to not let you leave as an annoying dry lump forms in your throat. 

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry, baby girl.” His hands run long, slow lines up and down your back as he brings his forehead to meet yours.

The pounding of the music on the other side of the club fades away completely as his eyes melt into yours. It's absurd that you missed him, isn’t it? You are his submissive, nothing else. But when he looks at you the way he is now it’s hard to remember up from down. The pressure behind your eye dissipates as one of his hands cups the nape of your neck and squeezes gently. From the outside eye, you could almost argue that he’s acting as if he missed you too.

His voice is a soft whisper as he continues, “Did you want to talk about it?”

Maybe it’s his years of experience as a dom and taking care of his subs. Or maybe this is just normal for him, but you aren’t used to someone wanting to talk about it. You’re used to a quick hug and a shitty pep talk. His hands felt heavenly on your clothed body, but as they brush against the bare skin of your neck to cup your cheeks they’re out of this world. This strong, successful, handsome man is giving you his full attention, wants to give you his full attention, and as his nose runs down yours it finally happens. 

Your body is flooded with that familiar desire. Your breathing catches as you practically moan, “No, I need you to make me forget. Help me, Mister Miller. Please?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, exposing that dimple that makes him so damn endearing as he pulls his face back from yours. “I’m going to push you tonight, sweet girl.” He slides your faux leather jacket off, letting it hit the floor. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you say, your voice turning husky. 

His eyes dance around your features and with a single blink he switches. You don’t think you could ever describe it, but it’s like he puts on a mask. His soft brown eyes turn almost onyx, the muscles in his jaw seem flexed, but it’s his voice that really gives away when he’s transformed into his fully dominant form. Joel’s voice is deep yet has a soft aura. Mister Miller's voice on the other hand is full of gravel, and nothing is a suggestion. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Joel steps back, watching as you slip your bare feet out of your sandals. You felt underdressed tonight, but you just couldn’t convince yourself to put together an outfit. Your denim shorts and oversized black t-shirt come off easily and after stepping out of your shorts you look up at Mister Miller. His tongue runs along his bottom lip as he takes you in, eyes widening at your lack of bra and panties tonight.

“Dirty little girl.” He accentuates every word as his eyes travel a burning path up and down your exposed skin and then to the side of the room behind you. “See that pillow?”

You spin slowly, a black velvet pillow sits on the floor, handcuffs hanging above it from a chain connected to the ceiling. You look over your bare shoulder at Joel who simply juts his chin towards it in a silent command. As you walk towards the pillow, the metallic clink of his ring hitting the ceramic dish washes over you. Goosebumps spread across your skin and you feel the anxiety leaving your body. The doubt that has been screaming at you dulls to a barely-there whisper. For a second you feel weightless, floating towards the black pillow like the little styrofoam packing peanuts you used to place in rain run off as a kid.

‘No one has ever made you feel like this’. The little box of feelings says from the dark, ‘He’d take care of you, if you let him.’ You push that box deeper into the archives of your mind as you stop in front of the pillow.

Joel’s voice is deep, almost a menacing growl from behind you as he says, “Kneel.”

Your mind shuts off completely as you comply, dropping to your knees, facing the wall, and tucking your feet underneath you.

“Toes planted on the floor, sweet girl.” You adjust how you're sitting, exposing the soles of your feet to Joel as he walks towards you, his expensive dress shoes clicking slightly on the hardwood. You can feel the heat of his body as he stops just inches from your bare skin. “Good. Hands up.”

His touch is gentle as he places the cuffs around your wrists. “What’s your safeword?”

“Stegosaurus,” you say softly.

“Louder!” He barks.

You jump slightly before saying it again with confidence, “Stegosaurus.”

Joel takes a small step towards the wall and tugs the other end of the chain to pull it tighter, stretching your arms up above your head. You’re almost lifted off your knees. A small piece of leather running up and down your spine and your breathing starts to speed up. The anticipation of what’s to come almost has you bursting at the seams.

“This is a riding crop. You said you’re interested in impact play, as well as paddles, whips and crops. Is that correct?”

You nod, your throat going dry and voice cracking as you say, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

“How’d your LSAT go, baby?”

“I…I th-think I failed,” you murmur.

A sharp snapping sound fills the room, quickly followed by red hot pain on your right ass cheek; you gasp at the sensation.

The soft leather goes back to tracing your spine, slowly up and down, almost feather light and ticklish. “Again, how did your LSAT go?”

“I’m sorry, Mister Miller. But,” your try to swallow the dry lump in your throat. “I think I failed.”

As if he’s had years of sniper training, he strikes you in the exact same spot. This time your body jerks, the chains rattling above you as you cry out. However, the heat of this strike spreads right to your clit, and your cry morphs into a whine of pleasure.

“Sweet girl, do you belong to me?” He trails the leather along your hip, slowly teasing up your side.

“Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect?” The soft end of the crop continues its trail, over the side of your breast and to your armpit.

“No.” You whisper. 

I can’t do this, he’s going to ask me to say I’m perfect and I can’t do it. 

“I don’t appreciate you talking bad about something I own.” A strike lands on the sole of your left foot, you hadn’t even realized the crop had moved from your arm. He taps the foot again, lighter this time but the pain from the first strike hasn’t ceased, a strangled cry passes your lips. “Especially when what you’re talking about is yourself.”

Another strike hits your right ass cheek and the red hot stings of it causes you to shoot up onto your knees. The chains above you rattle and go slack. Joel makes a noise similar to a growl behind you before two quick snaps land on the back of both of your thighs. “Kneel, sweet girl.”

You’re shocked by the moans and gasps that are filling the room, sounds that are unconsciously coming from your own mouth. Your pussy is throbbing and as you settle back onto your heels you realize how wet you are. You didn’t think you’d like this this much. 

“You need to learn how to stay still without being tied down.”

“Sorry, Mister Miller,” you whine through the panting breaths you’re taking. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, striking your left cheek and then gently rubbing along your ass. “How did your LSAT go?”

“I…It…I don’t know,” you say defeatedly.

He hits the sole of your left foot again, then your right ass cheek and this time your body acts on its own, your hips tilting to push your ass out towards Joel, a needy moan filling the room. “Come on, baby girl. Use your words.”

“It was harder then I remember,” you hum, your body practically vibrating with need. God, you can’t believe how good this feels.

The crop makes a slow line from the top of your ass, up your spine again and you tense up, sucking in a big breath. “Relax, my sweet girl. Until we talk about it, I will never strike you anywhere above the waist.”

“In fact,” he continues. “Anywhere here,” he draws a big circle along your entire lower back, “Should never, ever, be hit.”

“Ok, th-thank you.” You sink onto your heels again, your inner thighs are almost slippery with how turned on you are. 

Joel laughs lightly, “You’re welcome. So, it was harder than you remember?”

“Y-yes. I think I failed, Joel.” As soon you say it, you know you’ve fucked up. Eight quick, sharp snaps of the crop hit; two on each ass cheek and two on each foot, all at random. It’s over faster than you can apologize, and the walls of your pussy spasm with each crack of leather on skin. “Sorry, Mister Mill, hnng, M-Miller.”

Your head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he speaks. “Again, it was harder than you remember?”

You whine before whispering, “Yes, but I tried my hardest.”

“Up,” Joel commands, pulling the chain so you’re up on your knees. “Good girl. Spread your legs.”

He bends down behind you, the heat of his broad upper body warming your back. His strong hands grip your waist to steady you as you walk your knees out. “That’s it, good job sweet girl.”

His praise shifts everything. Sure, maybe you failed, but you are stronger than a little test. You are bigger than law school. If you don’t get in, you’ll try again and you’ll keep on trying, because you can do anything. A bright light shines on the little box of feelings.

The crop lightly tapping your inner thigh brings your back to the moment. “Please, Mister Miller.”

“You don’t have to ask, sweet girl. If this is enough to make you come then let go for me.” He whispers, trailing the leather of the crop up your thigh before trailing down the other.

“I need you to touch me,” you whine, letting your head fall forward. 

“Aww, poor baby,” he mocks before bringing the little leather square between your legs and taps lightly against your swollen clit.

“Oh god, oh god, don’t stop,” you moan.

“Yea? My perfect sweet girl gonna come?”

“Yes,” you cry, head now falling back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

"Tell me,” he commands, stopping the tapping and just letting the soft leather rest against you, “Tell me you're perfect.”

“No, please,” you murmur.

“Tell me you’re perfect and you can come, sweet girl.” The crop is barely touching you now. 

“I’m perfect,” you whine.

He smacks your clit harder once, twice and with the third snap of the crop you fall over the edge. The chains rattle as pleasure consumes you. Your orgasm rolls through you so hard and all you can do is take it. You moan loudly and your legs start to give out beneath you, the handcuffs and chain above you the only thing holding you up.

Joel

Fuck, she looks absolutely stunning when she finally submits. My beautiful, broken girl. She’s so smart, so driven, always pushing, pushing, pushing. Always taking care of everyone else. I wish she’d just let go, let me take care of her. 

As you slump forward he drops the riding crop, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you up, as he undoes the cuffs. You go completely boneless in his arms, your back pressed to his front, his soft lips peppering kisses along the top of your glistening shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. God, you’re so beautiful.”

He supports your weakened body, lowering you to the floor and rolling you onto your back. He pushes the hair that’s stuck to your sweat soaked forehead back. The soft and mischievous smile across your face is exactly what he was hoping for; you’re not ready to be done yet and luckily, neither is he. 

“I’m not done with you,” he whispers, gravel in his throat, before kissing your forehead.

Joel stands and takes a few long strides across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He can feel your eyes glued to him as he walks away. After your joke about his pants he picked a pair that's extra snug, just for you. He’s never picked an outfit for a sub before, and this just further proves that even if he’s not ready to fully admit it to himself yet, you are so much more than just a sub. 

“Sweet girl, come here.” He pats his thigh. As you sit up he says, “No, I want you to crawl to me.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing, and his heart nearly flutters right out of his fucking chest as you say, “What?”

He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. He wants to wrap you in his arms and praise you, but you’re responding so well to him being mean and he knows you need him to keep going. “I said to fucking crawl.”

When you get on your hands and knees, his cock swells to its full potential, pushing painfully behind the zipper of his dress pants. He begins memorizing every inch of your glistening skin and the lust-filled expression on your face as you move so beautifully across the room. 

“Like this, Mister Miller?” You ask innocently, wetting your lips and effectively ruining his life at the same time. 

“Just like that, my sweet girl,” he praises, sitting back up and patting his thigh as he adds, “All the way, then rest your head right here.”

You finally reach him, settling yourself in a kneeling position again and laying your head on his lap, big eyes looking up at him sweetly. His short nails scrape along your scalp as his fingers card through your hair and butterflies fill his stomach as you melt into his touch. “You look so pretty like this. So sweet and submissive. I’m a bad man for the thoughts I have about you when you’re like this.”

You hum quietly, eyelashes hitting your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed. You’re fully at his mercy, trusting him to do what he thinks is best. It’s not a role he takes lightly, not like when he was younger. If this was fifteen years ago you still be handcuffed to that ceiling as he fucked you, but after breaking a lot of hearts he’s reformed his ways. No sex, that’s the rule, as badly as he’d love to sink into your tight, wet heat, you’re trusting him to keep you safe. 

A sense of calm and comfort washes over him as he continues to massage at your scalp, and he smiles to himself as your body gets heavier between his spread thighs. There’s lots of things he likes about you, but the thing he loves the most is how he never knows what’s going to come out of your mouth next. And you prove that when your eyes flutter open and you confidently say, “I want to suck your cock.”

“Fuck, baby. Gonna give me a heart attack sayin’ shit like that outta the blue.”

Your perfect pink lips curl up into a shy smile, his hand moving from your hair so he can brush his knuckles lightly down your cheek. “S’ that what you want? To suck on my cock?”

Your head comes off his lap as you nod up at him. “Yes, Mister Miller. Please?”

“You know that you don’t have to do that. Right? I don’t do this for orgasms, it’s about so much more than that for me.” He asks softly, knuckles trailing your jaw. 

“I know, it’s more than that for me too, but I want to.”

The two of you look at one another for a while, eyes dancing along each other's faces. His voice comes out thick and full of sand, “Take it out.” 

He sits back, resting his hands on the bed behind him as your hands go to his belt, quickly undoing the buckle and then opening his pants. His thick cock springs free as you pull down his soft black boxers, the tip already leaking a bead of milky precome. As you eagerly press the flat of your tongue to the tip, he stifles a moan and watches as your eyes widen. He knows that look, it’s the same look every other man and woman has when they see it for the first time. Joel’s never been with someone of the same sex, but on the rare times he’s shared a sub with another man they have the same expression too.

“You have a piercing,” you say, curiosity thick in your voice, eyes glued to the nickel sized silver hoop that sits at the very bottom of his pelvis, the bottom of the hoop sitting just above the base of his cock.

“Yes,” he confirms, watching the questions about the unusual placement of it run behind your inquisitive eyes. 

Your hand is wrapped around the base of his cock now, your pinky grazing the shiny metal, and his hands fist the sheets behind him to stop himself from grabbing you. “I didn’t know that was a place people pierced.”

He smirks. “Welcome to the wonderful world of kink, sweet girl.” 

He got the piercing shortly after he began his journey to become a dom. In certain positions it can be very beneficial for his partner, and even though he’s vowed over and over again to himself that he’s not going to cross that line with you, he can’t help but imagine your perfect face as you find out exactly what it can do. A little piece of metal that would stimulate your clit as he fucks you.

Your soft pink tongue wets your lips before you begin to suckle on the sensitive rosy pink tip of his cock. His lips part with a quiet sigh. The entire tip of his cock slips into your mouth and his hands clench harder at the fluffy white sheets, desperately trying to let you explore him when all he wants to do is wrap your silky hair around his hands and hear what you sound like when you gag. His efforts double as you hum and then swirl your tongue around the leaking tip, big doe eyes looking up at him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whimpers. “Do that again.” You smile up at him sweetly and his heart starts to thunder behind his ribs. This isn’t a good idea. He should just focus on you, he gets off on that too, just in a much different way. 

Submissives come to him for many different reasons but he’s a dominant for one reason only. From the minute Tiffany passed, Joel has been responsible for everything. From raising Sarah, to bailing out Tommy whenever he got in trouble. Not to mention his construction job, which eventually led to being a business owner. Everyone needed everything from Joel. He had to pivot plans or multitask, nothing ever went as planned; but when he’s Mister Miller it goes exactly how he wants it to. He can say no, he can make them beg or say please, he plans what happens and it goes just how it’s supposed to. For a man who is supposed to be “the boss”, he only feels in control when he’s playing the role of dominant. 

And then came you. This beautiful little ray of light. From that first gasp and wide eyed stare in his office he had a feeling about you. And then everything that came out of your mouth took him by surprise. And right now, how good your mouth feels has him even more surprised. 

You haven’t looked away as you’ve worked more of him down your throat, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth, and your tongue flicks against the ridge along the bottom of the tip each time. 

“Feels s’good, sweet girl.” One of his hands moves on its own, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You can take more though. Come on. Be a good girl and take it all.” 

A small humming giggle vibrates along his length as you work more of him into your mouth and he can’t fight it anymore. Both his hands come to your hair, pushing it back as he wraps the soft strands around his fingers and grips tightly, guiding you down and holding you as low as he can get you before you gag. “Good fuckin’ girl. Jus’ like that.” 

You

Joel’s salty precum is like a drug. You want it. Need it. And know you’re going to crave it forever. He’s been mean tonight, something you haven’t really seen from him, but it was exactly what had to happen to get your head back on straight. You needed a harsh hand to snap you out of the dark looming cloud that’s been threatening to swallow you whole. 

You’ve probably always suffered from depression or high-functioning anxiety, not that your parents would have noticed or said anything. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have gotten their braggable daughter diagnosed. God forbid you weren’t something for them to hold over their friends’ heads.  

Joel’s hands tighten in your hair as he starts to take over. He let you taste him, let you get his cock nice and sloppy with your saliva. He looked down at you softly while you started, but now he’s back to full dominance. Full Mister Miller. 

He pushes you down onto his cock, the tip just kissing against your gag reflex. Your scalp burns under his strong fingers and you can feel yourself submitting. Everything goes quiet: your limbs feel heavy yet ready to move or adjust as he commands, the sides of your vision darken, and the only thing that matters now is him. His wishes. His desires. His commands.

He pulls you off of him, and you gasp in air, a string of your spit landing on your chin, your eyes watering. “You snap if you need me to stop, got it?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you say hoarsely. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

“Open,” he says growls.

You do as he says, opening your mouth wide while looking into his dark obsidian eyes. You can see his cheeks and tongue working behind his closed lips before he spits into your mouth. 

“That’s my fucking girl,” he rasps and then roughly guides you back onto his cock. He doesn’t take his time or stop at that point of resistance this time. No, this time he pushes you further than you’ve ever been. The cool metal of the ring on his pelvis touches your nose. The juxtaposition of his hard cock meeting your soft mouth and his cold piercing meeting your warm face is staggering, yet comforting.  

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. 

You switch your focus, sucking air in through your nostrils slowly. “That’s it, sweet girl. Relax.”

You let your body sink again into his muscled lined thighs. He starts to move you up his cock. He gets about halfway before he forces you down again. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, shocking yourself when the gag ends in a moan and your pussy starts to weep for him. In fact, almost everywhere is weeping for him. Salvia drips from your lips and onto his lap, tears run down face. 

You’re a mess.

‘His mess’, says that annoying little box in the corner of your mind which now has ‘Mister Miller’ written across it in loopy cursive handwriting, the dots of the i’s little bedazzled hearts. 

Joel uses your hair to pull you up to the tip and you gasp in a few breaths before he starts moving you up and down his now obscenely wet and fully erect cock. Your jaw aches with how wide you need to open your mouth to fit him. Your fingertips just met around the tapered base earlier. You’ve never looked at man’s cock before and thought much, but Joel’s might be enough to ruin your life.  

 “Fuck, this mouth. Feels s’ fuckin’ good. Look at you, takin’ it so well. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you say, although it’s muffled around his cock. He pulls you off fully, releasing his grips from your hair. You sit back on your heels, his eyes raking over your body, pausing to watch your heaving chest; a mixture of needing to catch your breath and being insanely turned on. You don’t take your eyes off his face.

“Stay.” Joel’s voice is deep enough that you feel it reverberate through you. You lick your lips, swallowing down the taste of him that you’ve become addicted to and place your hands on your lap. 

One of his hands comes up to his mouth and he spits into his own palm before bringing it down to fist his cock. Your eyes flick down to watch as he pumps himself slowly. “You have me doin’ shit that I didn’t plan, sweet girl. I give in to you, let you take the reins. But I’m in charge here.”

He pumps faster, and you fight to stay where you’re supposed to. “You need to remember that, so you don’t get to be the one to make me come today, you don’t get to feel it or taste it. No, you’re going to sit there, like a good little obedient submissive, and watch.”

You whimper, your right hand moving on its own to between your thighs. 

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself. Keep your hands on your lap.” His voice is strained as the movement of his hand becomes less fluid. His free hand comes to his balls, massaging them lightly and you try to commit the sight of him like this to memory. Tall, wide, and commanding, yet falling apart as he looks at your naked and kneeling form in front of him.

“Mister Miller?” You ask, your voice small and cracking, the back of your throat raw from the way he fucked your mouth. “I’m so wet. Please, can I just touch for a little bit?”

His mouth falls open, pleasure etched across his features, his focus never leaving you. “Show me how wet you are. Spread your legs for me.”

You raise off your heels slightly and slide your knees apart, exposing your wet and swollen cunt to him. Then you lean back, hands resting on the floor behind you, tilting your hips up so he can see all of you. 

“Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty,” he moans and then you watch as white ropes of cum spill over his hand. Your name passes his lips in a groan as he comes simply from the sight of your pussy. His hand stills and you lock eyes. You should feel shy like this, but instead you smile at him, a mischievous giggle bubbling up your chest as you bite down on your bottom lip.

His head nods towards the small dresser by the door, the one with the ceramic dish where his ring is on top. “Bring me a small towel from the top drawer and then get on the bed.” 

You saunter to the dresser, trying your hardest not to look too eager, and then back towards him with a small fluffy white hand towel. He takes it from you and cleans himself up as you lay on the bed. He stuffs his softening cock into his boxers and then removes his pants and shirt. If you thought you were turned on before, it’s nothing to how you feel now seeing him almost naked in front of you. 

That whole looking like you’re carved from stone gene is strong with the Millers, you think, watching the muscles behind his toned skin flex beneath his tanned skin as he climbs onto the bed. He grabs you by the ankle and pulls you to the end of the bed, a squeal leaving your lips. You had almost forgotten about the riding crop welts, but the friction against the sheets has them burning slightly and you wince as the heat settles. 

“I’ll fix those sore spots, but first I need to taste you. Is that ok?”

You spread your legs wide for him, “Y-Yes. I need you, Mister Miller.”

“Tell me what you need,” he hums, settling himself between your legs. 

“What you said,” shyness seems to have finally caught up to you, although you aren’t sure why.

He raises a thick dark eyebrow at you. “Ask for it, tell me how you like it.” He nods at you encouragingly as you take a few breaths. “Come on, my sweet girl. You can do it.”

My sweet girl, you melt. That fucking bedazzled box of feelings is fully in the spotlight now. He has years of experience in this role, but you can’t be imagining it. Looking at someone the way he’s looking at you now isn’t something that someone can fake. You can’t be the only one to feel whatever this invisible teether is between the two of you.

“I like fingers curled inside while the tip of your tongue flicks at my clit. I like suction too.” The pride in Joel’s face is almost overwhelming as he listens. God, he’s beautiful. 

He hums slightly, readjusting himself between your spread thighs. “My pretty girl gets what she wants,” he whispers before using the tip of his tongue to gently work at the soft folds of your cunt, working his way from your tight entrance to your clit. 

Your body jerks when he reaches your most sensitive part and you can’t stop the salacious moan that fills the room. “Oh god, Mister Miller.” 

He runs his tongue in slow, teasing circles around your clit. Not with enough pressure to actually make you orgasm, just enough to taunt you, and your entire body breaks out in goosebumps and a thin sheen of sweat at the same time. He slides his right arm under your leg, hooking his elbow under your thigh and reaches his hand up and over towards your pussy. His thick pointer finger and thumb easily slip to each side of your puffy clit. Just as you’re about to float off into another dimension he pinches hard. You scream out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, your back arching off the mattress. 

He holds your clit in his fingers, easing up the pinch to tease at it with his tongue again while he works the middle finger of his other hand inside of you. 

“You’re so tight,” he hums between licks. “Gotta relax for me. Let me into this tight little cunt.” 

You whimper at the push of his finger inside of you. One of his fingers is easily one and half of yours, and if he’s having a hard time getting just one of them in, you can’t imagine how it will feel to have two. 

“Eyes on me, sweet girl,” he rasps, releasing your clit from his fingers. His strong hand presses lightly on your mound. “You’re safe here, baby. Open up for me.” 

As always, you follow exactly what your dom says. Craning your neck slightly and opening your eyes to lock your gaze with his. The honey flecks in his dark brown irises warm your skin and as your body relaxes he smiles up at you. You feel Joel’s finger slide the rest of the way in with minimal resistance and it sends a wave of pleasure from your core to your toes.  

“There’s my perfect sweet girl.” He groans as you let out a euphoric whimper. And then he’s back on you. Soft lips pressing to your wet heat, the flat of his large tongue circling your clit. 

Your head falls back to the mattress, “Fuckfuckfuck. Oh god!” 

Your orgasm is embarrassingly close. Joel is hitting almost all the spots you love. No man has gotten you to the edge this quickly. Just as that tingle at the base of your spine starts to spread he curls his finger forward and sucks your clit into your mouth. 

“Mis…hnnng…fuck. I’m - I'm gonna.” You can barely think outside of the pleasure, nevermind form a sentence. 

A second finger slips inside of you, “Give it to me, sweet girl. Show me what I do to you.” 

Your orgasm hits you like an earthquake, making you shake harder than you ever have. The walls of your pussy clench hard on his strong fingers. His mouth is back on your clit, sucking it between his soft, warm lips. The lewd sounds of his sucking mix with your cries of pleasure. Joel is ruthless, never stopping as you absolutely crumble underneath his touch. Another strong wave of your orgasm rushes through you when he curls his fingers forward again, pressing right on your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, fuuuck Mister Miller.” You whine.

He slows the motion of his tongue as the convulsions of your body slow, working you through the aftershocks of your earth shattering orgasm. 

“Good girl,” he whispers before placing a light kiss to your spent clit and slowly slips his fingers out of you. As your gazes lock he licks your arousal off his fingers and then rolls you onto your stomach. You hear him suck in a breath through his teeth when he sees the aftermath of his riding crop punishment earlier. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. Just stay on your stomach for me.”

His lips press to your shoulder blade as the mattress baubles under his weight leaving the bed. You glance over at him, watching his broad, tanned back as he grabs a few items. He spins to face you, coconut oil in one hand and an orange juice and a bottle of water in the other. He places the drinks on the bedside table then scoops a bit of coconut oil onto his fingers. 

You wince as he makes contact with your right cheek, “Ouch, Mister Miller.”

“I know. This will help, and hopefully you learned your lesson about talking badly about what belongs to me.” His voice is sweet yet serious and he moves onto the other cheek, then the back of your thighs before his hand wraps around your right ankle, guiding you to bend your knee so he can look at the sole of your foot. 

He places a light kiss on the light pink spot and you giggle, “Your beard tickles.”

He laughs and does the same thing to the other foot before lining his body up with yours and pulling you in to be his little spoon. “How are you feeling, sweet girl?”

“Mmmm,” you hum, sinking back into his warmth. “Much better. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he holds you tighter, biceps flexing around your body like a ring of muscled safety. You're both quiet for a few minutes before he breaks it. “You kinda scared me tonight if I’m being honest.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in the arm he has under your head.

“No, don’t be. I’ve always been good at reading people, it’s probably more of a curse than a gift, but I just - I could feel that you weren’t in a good space when you got here.”

“Ya,” you agree.

“I know I can’t fix it, it’s not my place, but I hope I at least helped.”

You fixed it.

“You did help. I feel much better. Plus,” you turn to face him, both of you using one of your own arms to support your heads and your other arms wrapping around the other person. “Plus, you were right. I am smart. I can do this. I need to not be so hard on myself.”

Joel smiles sweetly, straight white teeth shining at you. 

“If I can be spanked with a riding crop while handcuffed, fuck, I can be aaaanything.”

You and Joel laugh together and it all feels so natural. Maybe too natural. There’s something comfortable and familiar about him. It might be that southern hospitality, but in all the years you’ve been in Texas you’ve never felt this content with someone else. 

“Mister Miller?” you say as the laughter subsides.

“You can call me Joel now,” his eyes widen just for a fraction of a second after it leaves his lips, almost as if he didn’t intend for it to come out before adding, “The scene is over.”

“Ah, so you’re saying this is a safe nickname zone now?” His smile makes your stomach flip.

“Careful, freckles.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You give him a closed lipped smile, “Hey, if you’re gonna use it then so am I, sweet cheeks. Don’t think I didn’t notice the extra tight pants tonight.”

He shrugs a strong shoulder to his ear as you continue. “So, if you don’t sleep with your subs, why the piercing?”

He takes one big breath and licks his lips before he starts, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “I got it a long time ago, I wasn’t always as strict with my rules. I’m not proud of it, I broke a lot of hearts when I first started this whole thing. I haven’t taken it out because…well, I don’t really know. I guess because when I do finally reach that point with a partner I want them to experience the benefits.”

Always the giver, you think. 

“Can you have a traditional partner while living this lifestyle?” You immediately begin to back track, realizing that you don’t want to seem like you’re getting attached. “Not you in particular. What you do outside of this room isn’t my business. I just mean like, are there doms that have subs that are married? Again, not you.”

He stares at you as you continue to ramble. “That whole thing came out wrong.”

“Relax, freckles, I knew what you meant. You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered and start to ramble though.”

The lid of the now pink painted box of feelings in your mind lifts a little. It seems to have gained an entire personality, and has the voice of Mrs. Potts from Beauty and The Beast as it says, ‘oh he definitely feels that tether too.’ 

“To answer your question,” his voice pulls you out of your own mind, “There are doms that do this professionally. I did have paying subs at one point myself and had a fairly serious girlfriend.”

Jealousy churns in your stomach. It’s irrational and you really hope it isn’t whoever Tess is. 

“But,” he continues, “It’s a tricky situation and involves a lot of trust and communication. Probably more than a sub-dom dynamic. But, yes, I’ve seen lots of happily married people who live and explore the kink lifestyle.”

You shiver slightly and he pulls you in closer, tucking your head into his chest, inhaling that ash, leather and natural Joel musk. His hand runs up and down your naked back, the calluses on his fingers scratching slightly. 

His body tenses, almost as if he’s nervous before he speaks. “Did you want to come to a Shibari class with me this week? We are hosting a demonstration at the club on Wednesday.”  

You glance up at him, “I’d really like that, Joel.”

He tucks your head back into his chest. His lips press to the crown of your head at the same time that yours meet the soft skin of his sternum. “It’s a date.”

Part Two

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple, until it isn't so simple anymore.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: James x Lily mentioned, "unrequited" love, idiots in love, swearing, violence, harassment, crying, arguments, protective!james, jealous!james, stupid!james, Lily isn't a villain—pls i love her!

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You know two things for certain—

You're head over heels in love with James. 

He's head over heels in love with Lily.  

In the beginning, you saw the entire situation as some messy game of cat & mouse, and you'd been determined to win. You had foolishly been convinced Lily didn't like James in any way. It never seemed like she had any interest in him. 

And James? Well, James adored your attention. It very clearly sparked his already enormous ego, and you couldn't deny you liked the thrill of him liking your shameless flirting. 

It was fun and harmless while it lasted and it seemed like there was a mutual understanding to both pretend you didn't notice the stolen looks, or shy smiles, the feel of his hand brushing yours in the hallway, the small written notes in class, or the letters he'd sent over the summer…and of course the present he'd left you for your 17th birthday; a small, necklace with expensive tiny rubies. 

It felt surreal. 

It was surreal because the moment you find out James has been dating Lily since Christmas break you feel sick. "Lily? Lily Evans?" You ask your friends, almost choking on your scrambled eggs. 

"Yeah. Apparently, Marls said that Lily kissed James in the Common Room after his practice yesterday," Mary says, immersed in the gossip, "Either way, I heard from Sirius Black that they've been inseparable ever since New Year. He says it's rather annoying."

You hear her muffle a yelp as Pandora kicks her shin from underneath the table. "Oh, I forgot you like James, Y/n," Mary says and sends you a sympathetic smile. 

You feel crushed inside but you force a smile, "Me? Oh, please. I can find so much better than Potter. He was just a silly crush," you swat your hand in the air, "I'm already over him," you say.

Pandora doesn't look like she believes you but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she and Mary let you sit in silence and pretend not to know you're unintentionally staring at James and his friends from across the dining hall. 

James is laughing and your chest tightens. He seems over the moon as he has his arm around Lily's shoulder and she looks at him with a look you've never seen her wear. She actually looks like she's enjoying his jokes now. 

You can't help yourself as you start to compare yourself to Lily. You chew on your nails as you start to remember every insecurity you've ever had and you feel miserable.

You aren't really supposed to feel miserable, you reason, deep down you knew James wasn't yours. He was always hers. He was just waiting for her to claim him and you were a silly distraction.

You pry your eyes away from James and Lily when he stands up. You think he sees you for a moment because you can feel his stare. However, when you lift your head and make eye contact for a moment. James's expression is unreadable and he's the first to turn his head. He grins and continues his conversation with Lily as you're frozen in time.

"Y/n?" Mary calls your name and time resumes.

"Yeah?" you whisper, composing yourself and crossing your arms on the table. 

"Here," she hands you a crumpled-up note and points behind her, "It's from Danny."

You take the note from Mary and tilt your head to see Danny Dulac staring at you from the Slytherin table. Danny Dulac is the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He's tall, extremely smart, and has the silkiest blond hair. 

Danny sends you a smile and motions toward the paper in your hand which reads:

~I heard Potter is out of the picture now. Does this mean you're free for a Butterbeer on Saturday?~

You think it's a joke but when you look up, Danny looks dead serious. Mary leans over and when she sees the note over your shoulder, she exclaims, "Oh my Merlin, Danny just asked you out!" she pushes on your shoulder excitedly and you shush her. 

You stare at the cursive and your mind races. You spent so many years liking James that it had never even crossed your mind that you could like other boys, or that they could like you. 

"Well? Answer him," Pandora insists and makes a little circle motion with her hand. 

Once you find a quill from inside your book-bag, you reply with a small, enthusiastic, 

~Yes!~

* * *

Over the week leading up to Saturday, you try to pretend James and Lily don't exist. 

It's much easier than you imagined because you have Danny's to pay attention to now. Turns out Danny Dulac is a gentleman who carries your books in the hallway and compliments you whenever he has the chance. 

You don't feel the loss you felt when you found out James and Lily kissed—at least not when James isn't staring at you from afar. You knew James wasn't that fond of Danny—being the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and all—but ever since Danny has been hanging around you it seems like James can't stand the guy. 

It's confusing, especially because James hasn't made any attempts to talk to you since his relationship with Lily became public. 

You sit in Potions next to Marlene when Remus Lupin comes up to you. "Y/n?" he asks in a quiet voice and you look up at him, "It's from James," he shows you the note in his hand and you stare at it like it's one of James's stupid pranks. 

You thank Remus and open it anyway, 

~Meet me at Hogsmeade on Saturday?~

Without a word to Remus, you scribble an answer, 

~I have a date~

You fold the torn parchment and hand it to Remus. You watch him walk back to James and Sirius. When James sees you've actually written him a response, his eyes sparkle and he hides a smile. However, his smile disappears once he reads the contents and you’ve never seen him so perturbed. 

He starts to scribble on the paper and, with his eyes focused on you, hands it to Remus. 

Remus shakes his head adamantly so James then tries to hand it to Sirius, who also shakes his head. James's last option is Peter but the poor boy has fallen asleep on his Potions book. 

You smile. Your attention is pulled from them when you see Danny next to you.

"Hi," he smiles.

"Hi," you answer and the last thing that could possibly be on your mind is James Potter. 

* * *

You pull at the hem of your dress and adjust your jumper nervously. Danny has just made the same joke he made a few hours earlier and you really try and force out another chuckle. 

"You ok? You look a little warm," Danny says foam from the beer lays across his upper lip.

You blink. You like him, you try to convince yourself, he's smart and super handsome and he carries your books for Merlin's sake— 

"I'm completely fine, continue?" you smile sweetly and lean in towards him from across the table. You want to look interested.

Danny smirks and looks around. "Wanna go somewhere quieter?" 

No, you want to say. You won't want to go anywhere with him because that means you have to listen to him some more and he's oh so boring.

Only you don't say no, you say, "Sure," and allow him to take your hand.

Once you've found a small, empty corner of The Three Broomsticks, Danny pushes you to the wall. His hand is resting near your forehead and he leans in as if he wants to kiss you. You panic and push him away, "Oh I'm super warm actually. One second," You turn and your hands tremble as you pull your jumper over your head and let it slide down your arms. 

Danny looks a little annoyed when you turn back around. His eyes lower and he frowns, "Pretty' necklace. Who's it from?" he points out and you look down. 

James's necklace.

"Oh. A friend," you say dismissively and rush to unclip it as it falls into your hands.

"A friend huh?" Danny crosses his arms, "Is it from Potter?"

You feel your cheeks become warm. Why would he ask that? You aren't sure what expression you're making but it cannot be a normal one.

"No!" you say and Danny yanks the necklace from your hands. Your heart sinks as you try to take it back instantly.

Danny holds it away from you, making you feel small, "You can't keep this." 

"Why not? It's mine," your lip wobbles.

"Because it's from him and he has a girl. It's completely inappropriate." 

You lower your arm and your heart hurts. Is Danny right? Maybe you have thrown away the necklace as soon as you found out about James and Lily? Why are you still wearing it? 

"Plus, if you want to be my girl you'll throw away this dirty necklace," Danny snarls as he runs his fingers along the silver chain. You freeze. 

"What?" you can't believe he just said that. 

"What?" Danny counters. He seems confused at your sudden shift in tone. 

"I am not your girl. I don't want to be your girl."

"Bullshit, Y/n," Danny rolls his eyes and stuffs your necklace into his robe. He walks closer, this time menacingly, and you feel stuck. Your hands press against the wall and you look at him. Your eyes brim with tears, mostly in hopes he'll leave you alone when he sees them. Danny just raises his hand and harshly brushes them away with his thumb, "You should feel lucky someone like me even likes you," he smirks. 

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut and you stutter, "Get away from me."

"No," Danny says and leans in. Only, he's suddenly ripped from in front of you and you inhale, surprised. You blink as Danny stumbles when someone seizes his collar. You feel someone else's hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at them. 

"Are you okay?" Kind, considerate, Lily Evans whispers, concerned at your tears.

"What the fuck?!" You hear a loud crack as Danny groans in pain. You look towards the sound and see James Potter take Danny's collar again, his knuckles already stained a little crimson. James looks furious. 

"Did you hurt her?" he hisses and shakes Danny like it's nothing.

Lily soothes you by rubbing your shoulders and she calls James's name as a warning.

"Hurt her? We're on a date, Potter. She wanted it," Danny snarls and you wince. You didn't want it. James looks at you and Lily from the corner of his eye and his heart breaks when he sees your expression.

"Fucking nutter!" James exclaims and punches Danny in the stomach. This time, Danny doesn't just take the hit. Instead, he tackles James and they trip onto the ground. Lily screams at her boyfriend and you scream Danny's name. 

You try to pull Danny away from James but it's only when you hear a loud crack as Danny lands on his left thigh that he pauses. You gasp, covering your mouth with your hands, which makes James pause and he looks confused as Danny pulls out your necklace from inside his robe. The small rubies have shattered and when Danny opens his hand, the chain and the shards drop onto the ground. 

He stands and taunts, "Some gift, huh Potter?" James's expression falls. 

 You crouch down, scooping the, now completely ruined, necklace into your palms. You try to hold in your tears and the world around you turns silent as you look at your present. "Shut it," You hear Lily snap at Danny and she doesn't hesitate to help you stand. Her arm holds yours and she looks almost as furious as James. 

"She's crying because of you, you prat! Does that make you feel good about yourself, huh?" James points out with frustration.

You know he means well, but it doesn't help that he basically announced to the entirety of The Three Broomsticks that you're in tears. You sniffle and look at Danny. His blue eyes shine with a mixture of embarrassment, pity, shame, and resentment.

"Whatever," he just snarls, "She's not worth it. She never was," he says as if you aren't standing directly in front of him. 

"You piece of shit," James hisses but Lily interrupts him.

"James. No," she scolds like a mother and James whips his head around to glare at her.

Instead, he makes eye contact with you and his face falls once more. His posture softens and, to your surprise, he doesn't move when Danny bumps his shoulder to leave. 

"I'm sorry, James," you say sadly, still holding his present. 

He looks confused and tilts his head as walks closer to you. Murmurs drift around the room as students continue to watch the scene. Lily looks around, seemingly just as uncomfortable as you, and James does the same. 

He gestures to the door and raises one of his eyebrows in a question. Lily nods. Quietly, you follow them outside and as you walk.

James and Lily somehow find their way next to each other. It's almost automatic for them and your heart breaks. Lily whispers into James's ear and his eyes glance at you. You look away, insecurities burning your chest. 

"You okay?" Lily asks, turning around when you start to fall back behind them.

You hum and pick at your nails, "I- I'm gonna go," you mutter. Lily wants to protest but, without a word, you stand before James and let the broken necklace fall into his open hands.

He looks at you with wide eyes and then clutches his hand around the necklace so fiercely. He shakes his head and your name leaves his lip but you don't wait for him to continue. You turn to leave—what can he possibly say now that will make you feel better?

"I like you!" His voice resonates in your ears as your breath leaves you. You turn around, almost hurting your neck. You couldn't have heard him correctly. Your eyes bounce to Lily but she doesn't look hurt. She doesn't even look surprised. Instead, she sends you a small smile.

You blink, "Pardon me?" You walk a little closer to James, "You like me? As in romantically or as a person?"

James starts to stutter, "R-romantically."

You look towards Lily, bewildered. "But, you're dating her!" 

  James turns to look at Lily just as she speaks up, "No, we broke up. We didn't even last more than maybe two weeks, Y/n." She laughs, "You two should really talk—" 

James nods at her and then turns to you once more. His arms stretch out as if he wants to make sure you won't run away from him. "Please, Y/n. Hear me out." He sounds so small and for someone with such a big personality, you're suddenly afraid.

You find yourself nodding slowly and let him lead you behind The Three Broomsticks. James lets you lean against the wall and then he nervously runs a hand in his hair.

"James, I don't understand," you say quietly, "You like Lily. You have always liked Lily—I was always just some girl you entertained because you liked the attention. I've always known that."

James's face falls as he listens to you and you see his hands hesitate towards you. "You were never just some girl," he says adamantly.

You frown, "Yes, I was."

"No, you weren't," His voice rises and you press your back against the wall, staring at him as he explains, "Listen, I ended things with Lily. It was my decision. I realized I couldn't stay with her and do you want to know why?" 

You shake your head instantly but he tells you anyway. 

"Because she wasn't you. She didn't make me feel as full as you always do. When she laughed, I never had the same butterflies in my stomach," James pressed his hand to his chest, "My heart didn't feel compressed in my chest whenever I looked at her. I didn't blush at her compliments like I would yours, or want her to smile only because of me. Just like you used to. Bloody hell, I thought of you when I kissed her."

Your entire body feels warm as embarrassment washes over you. "Why did you then?" your voice breaks, "Why did you put me through that? You knew what I felt for you and you chose Lily anyway. How can I trust you now, James?"

You watch his lip tremble as he looks at you with his doleful brown eyes and your heart shatters for the fourth time this hour alone. 

"I don't know," he buries his face in his hands, making an exasperated sound, " I know that answer isn't good enough for you, and I know I can't take back the pain you felt when you saw me with her. I do know that." 

You don't know what to answer. 

James runs a hand over his jaw and looks at you, "I suppose I couldn't let the fantasy go," he admits in a whisper. 

You turn your head away, "Y-yeah—Lily Evans, the fantasy. I understand." 

"W-what? No, that isn't what I meant!" James assures you, "I've been stuck on Lily for years. I know I didn't see you, but—but I see you now."

You stare at him. He looks so upset that your anger turns into pity, "James—"

"Y/n, please don't reject me. I can't bear it," his voice breaks as his eyes water. He walks closer and drops the broken necklace he'd given you in your palm. Your hand closes around it without thinking. "I've been such an idiot but I can't imagine losing you like this."

"You lost me the moment I saw you with Lily. You don't deserve to have me—not like this, and definitely not anymore," you say sternly and watch as you break the heart of the boy you're madly in love with. 

"James, you strung me along for months and months, and then threw me away without hesitation for her. If you liked me, you would have never let me cry over you for weeks," your voice becomes louder. 

James's hurt expression twists and his eyes darken, "You spent your days with Danny Dulac for fucks sake! What the hell was I supposed to do?" he also raises his voice.

"You aren't allowed to be jealous!" you say and push your index into his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks, "You ruined this," your voice dies as your hand flattens on his chest and he grasps it in his. James pulls you closer and leans his head onto yours. 

For a moment, you let it rest there, but then you pull away. "I can't do this," you mutter, "you only want what you can't have, James," you whisper and you know your words would hurt him but you don't care. You hear him call your name as you walk away from him.

* * *

Over the next few months, it's as if you and James never existed. 

You don't speak in class and when James wants to talk outside of classes, you ignore him. Eventually, he stops trying. He doesn't go back to Lily like you'd expected him to. Instead, time goes by, you both graduate, and it isn't until Marlene's 21st birthday that you see James Potter again.

He's in the middle of a small crowd: his smile as bright and wide as you remember. He's laughing like he would in school and you stand to the side of the room, suddenly unsure what to do with yourself.  

When James sees you, his smile falters for a moment. He looks you up and down and when his eyes land on the necklace you're wearing, his heart thumps in his chest and he can't help but wander over to you. You almost run from him, but enough time has passed for you to stay still.

"Hi," James says, looking into your eyes. 

You look up, your voice merely a whisper, "Hi." 

Weirdly, conversation flows easily. You talk about work, hobbies, and eventually you land on relationships. Somehow you've found each other in a secluded side of the room, you're leaning against the wall as James's arm rests near your head. It isn't confrontational—no, instead you feel safe caged in his strong arms. Your eyes train on the muscles of his arm—of course he plays Professional Quidditch now. You need to remind yourself to pay more attention to Quidditch from now on. 

"You seeing anyone?" James hums, his eyes flickering to your necklace again. You fiddle with it subconsciously and shake your head. 

"You?" 

James shakes his head too and he finally asks the question that's been burning his lips, "You fixed it," he raises his arm and his thumb skims the rubies. 

You hum and nod. "I did."

"Why?"

You laugh and look at James. "Because I love this necklace," you pause a moment and you whisper, "And it reminds me of someone."

   James seems surprised and he runs a hand in his curls. He looks at you and leans in a little. "C-can I?" he asks and a part of you wants to shake your head…tell him to fuck off. But, this is James Potter. He's the only boy you've ever loved—no matter who came after him. You nod and James's hand cups your cheeks as his lips press against yours. 

"I've been thinking of doing this for years," he says breathlessly through his kisses. 

I have too, you want to say but instead you just pull him closer. 

"I love you," James says suddenly and pulls away. He looks flustered as he tries to explain himself. "I- I never stopped."

You look at him and utter three words James didn't think he'd ever hear, "Neither did I." 

[verstappen-cult]

okay but why do I feel like this is just 100% max? 😭 like he’s so grrrr to everyone else but when y/n is around he’s an actual golden retriever puppy even if he tries to hide it

AAA I LOVE YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS! i was actually thinking about this last night, because it has max’s name written all over it and i can picture it like—

Max is known to be a very blunt person, someone who can get frustrated pretty easily, everyone knows that. I mean, he has a reputation. But once you came into his life, a new version of Max appeared. 

He just can’t say no to you. You literally are his weakness, with your big, round eyes and pretty smile always making him feel butterflies in his belly, like a teenager with sweaty hands and an embarrassing crush. Max has even found himself stuttering more than one time. 

When you’re not around, he’s like a lost puppy. But when you are, and you look at him, is like the sky opens up making everything be just right. It’s so fucking corny and he would never, in a million years, admit something like that out loud. 

Just like right now. 

Max is angry and frustrated, deep in an argument with GP — gesturing with his hands as if his life depends on it — when you approach him. 

“Hey,” You say, unaware of what’s happening between them. 

“Hey, baby.” Max turns around, a smile plastered on his pretty face. 

GP sees Max’s face light up at seeing you. 

He turns into a completely different person from one second to the other. It’s laughable, really. 

“You know who I just saw?!” You’re almost hopping on one leg of how happy you are. He smiles, because he loves to see you happy. “Taylor Swift! Max, the Taylor Swift is here, she’s actually in Ferrari’s hospitality.”

“Did you talk to her?” Max asks you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him because why are you so far away? He needs to be touching you at all times. 

“Well, no. I wanted to but I don’t want to make a fool of myself, so, I need you to come with me.” You say, very serious. 

“Baby, I won’t go to Ferrari's hospitality. They will probably think I’m trying to steal something.” Max laughs, looking at GP very briefly only to see him holding his laughter as much as he can. 

“But, Max!” You pout, already putting your signature ‘look at this face, you can’t say no to this face’ face.

“Max, we need to finish with these papers.” His friend reminds him, but Max couldn’t care less at this moment.

“Yeah, well, just give me a couple of minutes. I’ll find you later.”

Max really, really needs to finish his talk with GP, it’s important because tomorrow’s the race and there are so many things wrong with the car, but he lets you drag him away. GP’s laugh can be heard around the paddock, people actually turn around to see what’s happening. Max just gives him the finger and follows you to Ferrari’s hospitality to meet Taylor Swift, shooting death glares at anyone who dares to look at him.

[etherealising]

one | christmas (baby please come home)

pairing(s): carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | fem!reader x original male character | the bear x fem!reader

synopsis: you reunite with carmy at the berzatto family christmas, five years after your falling out.

warning(s): angst | fluff | pining | semi-unrequited love | minimally edited

wc: 7.8k

READER HAS A NICKNAME BUT OTHERWISE AMBIGUOUS

A quiet Christmas playlist drifted through the confines of the house as three friends sat gathered around the kitchen table spending much-needed time together catching up while building gingerbread houses, the various glasses of wine shared between the three of them lowering their inhibitions. 

“Baby! You’re not even looking at the camera.” Natalie’s slurred words caused a fit of giggles to spill out of you as you held up your dilapidated gingerbread house whatever artistic skills you possessed washed away with all the wine swishing through your bloodstream. 

You positioned yourself once more smiling at Nat’s phone as you held the slowly crumbling house, Pete instinctively leaned over to join you for the photo only for his reindeer antler headband to poke you in the eye. Both of you fell into a fit of hysterics as Nat giggled behind her phone most likely snapping blurry photos. 

None of you could be sure how you’d gotten to the point of being wine-drunk on Christmas Eve. The celebrations began when Nat and Pete picked you up from the airport earlier that morning, the three of you deciding on a quiet night in with a home-cooked meal, followed by a night of Christmas festivities courtesy of Pete which you could never turn down especially when seeing how excited he always got. You remembered Natalie listing off her worries for tomorrow’s dinner as she poured the three of you wine, that first glass somehow turned into two empty wine bottles in no time as the three of you enjoyed each other’s company. 

“Wait, wait we’ve got to get a picture in our matching pjs!” Pete was by far the most sober of the three of you and that was probably how he won the game of rock, paper, scissors that forced you into wearing the set of Christmas pajamas he bought you that were a replica of the ones he and Nat currently had on.

You shook your head immediately, not wanting any more photo evidence of this night, especially knowing Nat was probably sending these pictures to Mikey who would most definitely never let you live down matching with the married couple. “I think we have more than enough pictures.” The words felt heavy as they rolled around on your tongue and you couldn't help but giggle at how slow you felt like you were speaking.

Nat moved around the table to your side wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned her chin against your shoulder and her cheek pressed into yours. “Pretty please Baby, we only get to do fun things like this a couple times a year when you visit.” She moved her face away to give what you assumed were supposed to be puppy dog eyes but was really just her concentrating extremely hard. “If you love me you’ll do it.” 

You rolled your eyes pretending to be put out by the married couple, not wanting them to know just how much fun you were actually having. While you were thankful for your success and the career you built up for yourself, that meant that you spent the majority of your time traveling and working, and while it was nice to see the world, sometimes you wished you could take more than a quick beat for visits like these. You hadn’t visited Chicago as much as you would’ve liked since moving to the West Coast, which meant you saw less and less of the family that made you one of their own all those years ago. You watched as Nat and Pete struggled to set up the phone in the living room for the group photo, giggling at how they seemed to feed off of each other as though they shared a single brain cell between the two of them.

Nat waved you over once they got the phone set up, “Oh! We should do like one of those awkward photo shoots.” 

You groaned, shaking your head back and forth while Pete stood next to you aggressively nodding his head in approval, the two of them were so goofy together you’re unsure why you ever thought you’d have an actual choice in how this unprofessional impromptu photo shoot was going to go. While you may’ve been inebriated that didn’t mean you were on board with every decision the two were making, but you also loved them too much to tell them no, and as you watched them excitedly try to figure out what pose to go with you figured you could feed into their inherent goofiness just this once in the spirit of Christmas.

Carmy stood in the kitchen of his childhood home watching as his mom prepared for Christmas dinner the following day, vehemently refusing any help when he offered it up but forcing him to keep her company and recount all of his culinary adventures as she worked.

He watched his mom move around the kitchen in an organized frenzy, talking to herself at points when she listed off what needed to be done next. Carmy could already see the weight of the looming festivities hanging heavy over her head, stressing her out before the day even began. While he understood and appreciated her love for food and cooking probably more than anyone considering she fostered that same love and appreciation within him when it came to the culinary arts, he always wondered why she insisted on cooking family dinner every year if it always ended in a mess.

“Oh fuck me!” The loud expletive forced Carmy from the recesses of his mind as he stared in his mother’s direction. “Carm honey, do me a favor and finish decorating the fireplace, the box of decorations is already out there.” 

Carmy stood there a minute longer trying to compute the fact that his culinary excellence was being disregarded and he was being put on decorating duty, “Carmen. Can you do it or do I have to do every fucking thing myself?” 

“No, uh yeah I got it.” He met his mother’s eyes nodding his head up and down in acquiesce, to let her know he had it under control.

She shooed him out of the kitchen returning to her food prep before he even made to move to the living room. Carmy quickly found the box of decorations exactly where his mom said it would be, the house was abnormally quiet he assumed Mikey was at The Beef but he couldn’t be sure he had no need to be near the sandwich shop at the moment and Sug moved out ages ago so here he was stuck in his childhood home with nothing better to do than decorate the fireplace mantle.

Carmy knew however he decorated the mantle his mom would just come behind him and fix it to her liking, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. Maybe if he got it close enough to how she liked she would have to do less fixing. He was surprised to find how calming decorating the mantle was, but maybe that was only because he didn’t care to impress anyone with his subpar decorating skills.

Reaching into the box Carmy pulled out the stockings each one designated to one of the Berzatto siblings. He easily hung the stockings onto the hooks on the mantle before reaching in for the last one, embroidered with a name he was sure he hadn’t seen in far too long a time. Carmy was foolish to think that because he ruined the friendship between the two of you that his family would disregard your whole existence over his mistakes. 

Carmy remembered how hard he tried for the first couple of months after he’d left to get into contact with you, to try and let you know just how sorry he was and how much he missed your friendship…missed you. If you ever gave him the chance, he was sure he’d spend his whole life apologizing for that moment. 

That night would haunt him forever, and his mind made sure of it, the worst moment of his life was on a constant loop anytime he got a moment of calm and quiet. Which wasn’t often but they happened enough for the hurt and pain on your face from that night to be permanently seared into his mind. And when it wasn’t memories of the way the moonlight illuminated the tears running down your face from that night, it was the overwhelming guilt that weighed on him for ever speaking to you that way.

Carmy’s hand traced across the embroidered thread of your name as though passing over it enough times would permanently thread the letters into his skin. He hesitated, unsure if they still hung the stocking long after you moved, a moment passed before he decided he would hang it if only just to catch a glimpse of something that reminded him of you. Carmy maneuvered the other stockings around in order to make space for yours trying to ignore the warmth that filled his chest at the sight of your name hanging directly next to his. 

He was pulled from his daze as his phone vibrated multiple times in rapid succession, he pulled the device out of his back pocket unsurprised to find Nat blowing up the sibling's group chat, plus Richie courtesy of Mikey. He was ready to shove the phone back in his pocket when a message coming through from Richie caught his eye, his heart sped up a bit as he read it before it disappeared off of his screen. 

Carmy was positive he had never opened the sibling's group chat as fast as he did at that moment. Opening the text chain he frowned at the assortment of pictures above Richie’s message doing his best to figure out what the hell he was looking at. The first few pictures were of Pete and Nat and as much as he loved his sister he wasn’t interested in seeing either of them. His thumb began swiping through the photos rapidly unsure why anyone would take so many photos of the same things over and over again. Carmy found himself stopping on one picture in particular, a picture that was neither Sug nor Pete, but presumably, the person who took the previous pictures of the couple. 

There you were. 

Smiling so wide it almost looked painful, a glow to your skin that made Carmy unsure if it was from the phone camera or if you were actually glowing. The picture was blurry but for the most part, he could make out your features, he would recognize you anywhere even after all the time spent apart he would be able to pick you out of a crowd with no trouble at all. That’s how deeply you were ingrained into his brain even if the last time he saw you was when you were a fresh high school graduate.

He scrolled once more the side of his lips ticking up at the same photo this time just a lot clearer, he absentmindedly saved the photo to his phone before resuming his viewing. Carmy’s eyes were always drawn to you when you were in any of the photos, at some point he began disregarding Sug and Pete entirely, giving you his full attention. He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle as he scrolled through all the shenanigans the three of you got up to saving another individual shot of you in front of the Christmas tree in Christmas-themed pajamas with matching socks and a headband with two candy canes in the shape of a heart. The sight of you smiling directly at the camera made it seem as though you were looking directly at him, a blush rose to Carmy’s cheeks at how pathetic it was for him to get so worked up over a few photos of you. He looked at the last photo a moment longer before realization dawned on him, his eyes quickly shot from his phone screen to the stocking he hung up. 

Carmy scrolled through the recently sent messages he missed after staring at the pictures of you so long gathering enough information to confirm his suspicions. He quickly turned on his heel before heading back into the kitchen.

“Yo ma,” she gave a distracted hum which was enough for him to begin his line of questioning. “Is uh…does Baby still come to family Christmas?” 

The older woman stopped what she was doing turning to face her youngest son with the most egregious ‘are you fucking stupid’ look Carmy received in a while. “Do I bust my ass every year preparing seven fishes that nobody ever fucking appreciates or eats?” 

Carmy was unsure if it was a trick question but as his mom raised her eyebrows awaiting an answer he realized there in fact was a right answer, “Yes?”

She shook her head looking him up and down as if he were a stranger “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Carmen, it’s like you're from a whole different fucking planet. Of course, the girl comes to Christmas, we're the only family she’s got left.” She stopped speaking to pull out the pack of cigarettes she kept on her slipping one between her lips before speaking around it. “And you would fuckin’ know that if you came home once in a while Bear.” 

Carmy nodded his head ignoring the last sentence as he let the information settle in, he would be seeing you face to face for the first time since high school, and the two of you would be in the same for hourse. He took his chance to slip out of the kitchen as his mother turned back to finish her prepping. He needed some time to himself to try not to work himself into a frenzy as he thought about what tomorrow would bring.

The Berzatto family home looked exactly as you left it all those years ago, the only noticeable difference was the Christmas decorations but other than that it was still your bonus home, the home you spent as much if not more time in than your own home. 

The home you grew up in sat just right across the street, a family of three began renting it a year after you left for college and although it was weird to think that another family was living in the home that would always hold a piece of you, you were just happy to rent it out to a loving family. You’d try to find the time and bring them a goodie basket or something, you always sent holiday cards, but now that you were in town you could meet them properly. 

You stood at the trunk of your rental car staring at the array of wrapped presents trying to decide if you should bring them all in now or just wait. Your eyes fell on the matte black sleek box, the last-minute gift cost more than it would’ve if you bought it ahead of time, you bit your lip the longer you stared at it only now feeling uncertain about the unwarranted gift.

“You sure you’re up for this?” The voice came from your side, Hayden leaned against the car as he watched you stare at the box as though it personally wronged you.

A small sigh escaped you as you turned to face him, arms crossing over your chest “Not really, no but I come home every Christmas and I can’t stop just because he happens to be in town.” Hayden looked at you like he knew you were lying but decided against mentioning it. “Thanks for coming with me by the way, I know it was last minute…how you holding up?”

Hayden shrugged before looking straight ahead, “Well my best friend has been sleeping with my wife for the better part of a year, and said wife served me divorce papers two days before Christmas so.” His voice trailed off as he gave you a sarcastic smile. “But I would say you’re having a worse day than me so it makes me feel a bit better.”

You frowned, not entirely understanding what he was getting at, causing him to roll his eyes, “Oh c’mon Baby, the kid you’ve been in love with our whole lives is home for Christmas, the two of you never even dated mind you. He broke your heart years ago and for some reason, you’re still in love with the idiot but won’t pick up the phone to tell him, and all of your relationships have failed because you’re too stuck living in the past.”

“I should’ve left your ass at home wallowing in self-pity.” 

Hayden’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile as he tipped his head to you. “Well now we can wallow in self-pity together, you can stay out here in the cold looking at that stupid box, but I’ll be in that warm house drinking all of Miss Berzatto’s good liquor.” 

The front door opening drew both of your attention, your heads swiveled to watch Mikey exit the house and begin making his way to you, a frown lined his face as his eyes landed on Hayden by your side confused at the extra guest you brought with you.

“Why the fuck are the two of you standing out here in the cold.” Mikey’s gruff voice felt like a balm for the doubt that was beginning to eat away at you from Hayden’s unwelcome reality check.

Hayden moved quicker than you anticipated, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “Oh you know just reminding our girl here that love sucks and it's all a fucking illusion because no matter how much you love someone they’ll always end up fucking your pseudo brother.” 

Mikey’s confusion was evident as his eyebrows pinched together even more, his eyes darted between the two of you mouth opening to speak only to quickly close as you shook your head back and forth as subtly as possible.

“Hey, is your mom drinking yet?” Hayden’s question earned a hesitant nod from Mikey who was unsure if providing her a drinking partner was the best thing to do. “Great…great, well merry fucking Christmas!” Hayden pressed a gentle kiss into your temple before moving to head into the house, clapping Mikey on the shoulder as he went by. 

Mikey moved to stand next to you, the both of you watching the train wreck of a man head into the Berzatto household. “What the fuck is up with that kid?” Mikey turned to look at you trying to figure out exactly what kind of mess you brought to family Christmas.

“Sasha’s leaving him.” You watched as understanding washed over Mikey’s face a small nod following as he put two and two together at Hayden’s weirder-than-usual behavior. Mikey opened his mouth to give you shit about bringing the insufferable kid with you only stopping as you spoke over him. “He’s good people, Mikey, I just didn’t want him alone on Christmas.”

Mikey didn’t have an argument for that. As irritating as Hayden could be he found himself indifferent towards the kid you called friend. Mikey was loathed to admit it and he would deny it if anyone ever asked him, but he had a secret appreciation for the kid, Hayden was there for you during a tough time in your life, he was there for you when you needed a friend or someone in your corner who wasn’t directly connected to the youngest Berzatto and for that, Mikey respected the kid, but it's not like he’d ever tell you or him that. 

“Let me look at you,” Mikey’s voice broke through the quiet that had settled over the two of you, your eyes flashed to his face taking in the facial hair he'd decided to grow out. “All fucking grown up ain’t you. Can we still call you Baby or you too grown for that shit now?” 

You rolled your eyes at the joke Mikey made every time you came home before turning and grabbing your bag from where you sat it in the trunk, leaving the gifts behind and moving to walk towards the house with Mikey, “As much as I regret the nickname I’m not sure if I could get used to hearing you all call me by my first name again.” 

Mikey chuckled at your words, hand moving out to grab your elbow and stop you from continuing ahead. “Relax out here with me for a bit yeah?”

A frown lined your face as Mikey stopped in front of you, you could tell he had ulterior motives for stopping you, his hand moving to take the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before lifting it to his mouth and lighting it. 

“You uh, you know your little boyfriends in that house right?” 

Your nose scrunched up at Mikey’s words, you could hear the teasing tone in his voice as he spoke but that didn’t mean his words didn’t make your chest ache. Of course, you knew he was here, but not until a week after you booked your flight and Nat gave you some bullshit excuse about how she just didn’t know he was coming home for Christmas. You were upset with her and rightfully so but Pete somehow still talked you into coming and so here you were pretending like seeing Carmy after so long didn’t matter, pretending like you hadn’t teared up on the drive over with your face turned to the window as Hayden drove, quietly reliving every vile word Carmy spewed at you that night in your head. Pretending as though you didn’t carry his words along with the hurt they caused within you for years like they didn’t change the way you viewed yourself and took up space in other people’s lives, maybe Hayden’s observation about you carrying the past around was more factual than you once thought. 

And it didn’t matter that he tried getting back in contact with you his first year in California or that he sent flowers and a card when your mom passed saying he’d come home if you needed him to. None of it mattered because it would never make up for the underlying truth in his cold, cruel words from all those years ago.  

Mikey’s eyes darted around your face watching the small changes in your expression knowing you were thinking about the past, his cigarette halfway gone as he lost you to the inner workings of your mind. He took another puff before letting it fall from his fingertips and stomping it out, the tears lining your eyes forced him to move faster as he tucked you into his chest listening to you struggle to breathe as you fought to keep the sobs from wracking through your body.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. You can leave right now if you need to and no one has to know you were here.” His hand raised to stroke your head as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth. “Hayden will understand.” 

You pressed your forehead into his chest as you willed yourself to calm down not wanting to make it obvious you’d been crying once the two of you made your way inside although it was probably already too late for that. 

“Why does it still hurt Mikey?”

A deep sigh raised the older man's chest at your words, his hands fell to your biceps gently pulling you away from him. The look Mikey gave you said it all, a look that forced you to face a truth you’d been running from for the past five years. Creating a new life and pretending as though whatever misguided feelings you held towards Carmy were just that of a childhood crush. 

It still hurt because you never stopped loving him.

You were thankful Mikey didn’t speak the words aloud unlike Hayden, you’d already been lectured by him countless times on this subject, Richie even jumped in from time to time to express his discontent. No one could understand why you held onto your feelings for Carmy so strongly knowing firsthand how much pain and anguish they caused you. You were scolded plenty of times about holding onto all that hurt, being told to either let it all go or talk to Carmy. You couldn’t bring yourself to do either of those things. 

But you couldn’t keep living in your head and feeding into the fairytale of you and Carmy forever. You had to move on with your life at some point, and even though Hayden was correct that one moment from your past kept ruining your future, at this point, you were doing it to yourself. Although it was painful and it took some time, the broken record of Carmy’s words from that night five years ago made it just a bit easier. 

“Baby,” Mikey paused on his words trying to find the right thing to say he felt torn every time this topic came up. You were a little sister to him, he viewed you in the same way he viewed Nat. He wanted the best for you, but this wasn’t it and the both of you knew it. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself? I’m not saying you should forgive Carm m’ just sayin’ holdin’ on to all this hurt isn’t doing you any good.” He watched as you looked away from him, the realization clear on your face, Mikey could read you so well he knew you were tired of carrying the grief of that dead friendship around with you. His hands reached out to cup your face the rough pads of his thumb tenderly caressing your squished cheeks. “You’re finally in the same place after all this time, figure this shit out for both of your sakes.” 

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you fought the urge to come up with some lame excuse as to why now wasn’t the right time, but there’d never be a right time for the two of you. 

You wrapped your arms around Mikey’s waist once more needing the warm strong bear hugs he always provided to help calm yourself down enough to be prepared to face everyone, but also to signal you were done with this conversation entirely. You pulled out of Mikey’s grip as he gave you a look seemingly asking if you were okay, you nodded in answer, relaxing into him as he pressed a gentle kiss onto the skin of your forehead.

“Alright, let's get you inside before mom comes out here and cusses me out for keeping you in the cold.” Mikey’s hands rubbed up and down your arms to provide you with the much-needed body heat.

A genuine laugh left your lips knowing Mikey’s words were closer to the truth than one might think. Mikey moved to turn around and begin walking to the door but was forced to stop as you reached out to grab his hand. “I uh, I got you something.” 

His eyebrows raised in question, “Awe you didn’t have to get me nothin’.” You rolled your eyes rummaging through your bag for the two presents and holding them out to him once you found them, chuckling as you watched him place his hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental moments and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else. 

You smiled holding the heavier of the gifts out to him first, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded, feeling your face warm as you let your eyes dart around so you didn’t have to watch his reaction.

Mikey smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfed it from end to end. He smiled at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shoved his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands holding it in front of your chest, the glass facing him so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, I didn’t trademark it for myself or anything. I just remember how much you all used to talk about this, and I'm not sure if it's something you still want but I…I just wanted you to know I still believe in you. And I…I know how tough shit is lately and I promise I didn’t mean to step on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” 

You could hear your long-winded explanation become more emotional by the minute but you needed Mikey to know how loved and appreciated he was. He was a big brother to you, always by your side whenever you needed him, he saw you through all the bullshit with Carmy and helped you to get through your mom's death. And when you were hellbent on throwing whatever little future you didn’t think you had left away he was right there with you pushing you to see just how much you deserved to get out of this godforsaken city and make something of yourself. 

“You deserve so much in this world Mikey, and I wish I could give it to you. But you need to know how much I believe in you and how much I love you, I’m always in your corner,” you paused trying to choke back another round of tears. “And Mikey I…I don’t think I would be here right now if it wasn’t for y-.” 

Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, the both of you taking every bit of love and comfort the other offered in that moment. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. He wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey to have this moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while his emotions ran high. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face, his eyes found yours, 

“Thank you, Baby,” the words were spoken so quietly you were surprised you caught onto them a small imperceptible nod of your head directed at him as you gave him a tearful smile. Mikey placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug. 

You decided it best to leave the biography you finally wrote, printed, and compiled about him after all these years in his room, wanting him to be able to experience it in private so he could indulge in whatever feelings it brought forth. 

Mikey’s head sat atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear listening to the rhythm of his beating heart. The hug you shared with Mikey in that moment felt heavier than any other time you had the pleasure of being held in his arms. You’d be remiss not to notice but chose instead not to bring it up to him and enjoy the moment for what it was.

A moment of peace.

30 minutes passed since Michael escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty, he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping their mom out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever grabbed Mikey’s attention. 

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, but not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list off a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it. 

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy offered to him marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the color drain from his face at the older man’s words, the younger of the two looking as nauseous as the pregnant woman upstairs. Although he knew you were in town he’d gotten so sucked into the chaotic energy of everything that his mind hadn’t given him any time to overthink seeing you all these years later and if he knew Mikey was outside with you he would’ve made sure he was nowhere in the vicinity of your entrance, not because he didn’t want to see you or be around you but because after all these years he still had no idea how to admit every feeling he kept bottled up and tucked away from you. 

“Did you not know she was coming? Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those two idiots probably just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jagoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family and a surprise plus one. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who finally joined his side nodding his head to the window. 

“Awe and she brought her little boyfriend with her.” Richie’s words bounced through Carmy’s head like a game of pinball. You were seeing somebody? Carmy unceremoniously shoved Richie out of the way to get a glimpse of his own out the window, the older man did his best to hold in his laughter. 

Carmy looked out the window just in time to see you snuggly pressed into another man’s side, his brain working overtime to figure out who it was before he watched the man lean in and press a soft kiss into the side of your head causing Carmy’s stomach to sink. 

“When did they start dating?” Before Carmy could stop himself the question was out in the open, his voice sounded less curious and more annoyed than it should have. 

Richie knew what he was about to do next would probably get him into a load of shit but he couldn’t help but want to fuck with Carmy, would you beat his ass for it later, probably but that wasn’t gonna stop him from having his fun. 

“Ohh shit, nobody told you, Cousin?” Richie did his best to sound sad as he spoke, fighting to keep his face neutral as Carmy turned to look at him. “Listen, I don't think it's my place to tell you.” Richie raised his free hand and the cup up in defense.

Carmy could feel his heart speed up the longer he looked at Richie, “Told me what?” An apologetic look washed over Richie’s face twisting the feeling of despair deeper into Carmy’s chest. “Told me fucking what Richie?” He did his best not to scream in the man’s face but the longer Richie stayed silent the more Carmy was sure he was going to have a breakdown. 

“Carm…she’s,” Richie paused suddenly realizing that maybe this joke wasn’t as funny as he first thought it once was but he was in too deep now. “Baby’s married.” 

The tightness in Carmy’s chest intensified tenfold as his eyes traced Richie’s face for any inkling that he was lying. He could feel his palms becoming clammy as he tried to comprehend the truth bomb Richie just dropped on him. When did you get married? Why didn’t he know? 

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he already knew the answer to that last question. You didn’t want him to know, the two of you weren’t those same kids from five years ago. There was no more sharing everything that happened in your lives with one another and Carmy only had himself to thank for that. 

“Don't fսck with me right now Richie.” Carmy was doing his best to hold onto whatever was left of his resolve not knowing if he could realistically spend his first Christmas home in years watching you be happy with some other man. 

Before the older man could admit to his fallacy the door swung open, the man in question walking through the door. 

“Yo, Richie how you been man? Tiff trynna kill you yet?” His voice drifted through the foyer as he shrugged out of his jacket while Carmy forced himself to turn around making eye contact with the man only receiving an indifferent look in return. “Carmen, good to see you home dude.” 

It took Carmy a moment to realize he knew the man standing in front of him, Hayden Ivanovski was always more your friend than he was Carmy’s but the two of them got along decently enough for your sake. Carmy’s eyes flitted down to the hand stretched out in his direction, quickly latching onto the gold band wrapped around his ring finger, the truth of the situation settled heavily inside of him as he shook Hayden’s hand.

“Yeah uh, good to be back.” Carmy restrained himself from physically massaging out the ache in his chest as he stood in front of the man who succeeded where he couldn’t. He let Hayden’s hand go, tuning out the conversation between Richie and Hayden as he lost himself to the overwhelming thoughts swimming through his head moving to stand just outside of the kitchen as he leaned against the wall. There was no doubt about it, you were married, and those hateful words Carmy spewed at you in the backyard of his family home five years ago probably only helped to push you into Hayden’s embrace. 

Carmy heard you before he saw you. He’d been so lost in his self-deprecating thoughts that he hadn’t heard the door open again. 

All of these years, all the skipped holidays, and Carmy was missing out on you. The sight of you standing in his family home helped to calm his racing heart but then he watched as Hayden pulled you into his side, the two of you looking like a picture of love as the man leaned in placing one more kiss to your temple, conveniently staring Carmy down from across the foyer. 

Carmy dropped his gaze from Hayden before focusing on you once more, the tension seemed to just bleed right out of him as he watched you glow in happiness even if caused by someone else. He was so caught up in his staring that he hadn’t realized the way Mikey glanced at him, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for Carmy to make a move he hadn’t prepared for and didn’t even know he could still make. 

He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity worked its magic on you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school. 

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered, he wasn’t drawn to you because of your appearance it was just you as a person that always kept his attention. The comfort you brought him, the way he used to feel safe just being in your presence, the softness you taught him it was okay to bask in, and the way you allowed him to be vulnerable and unapologetically himself were what really kept him hooked. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things, and he made sure to do so as he stared at you from his vantage point staring around Mikey’s body. Carmy was sure he could look at you all day and deep down inside, he knew he would spend most of Christmas doing just that now that a future with you wasn’t attainable. 

He was pulled from his study of you as your voice rang through his ears, the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth warmed his body. 

“Merry Christmas Carmy,” he could tell your smile was forced, but even the fact that he was worthy of your attention at this moment was enough for him. “It’s nice to see you home.” 

Carmy tried not to read into your words knowing you were just being friendly but the way Mikey cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at his younger brother, he knew he needed to say something. 

The moment was lost though as another voice interrupted the silence that fell over the group in the foyer. 

“Baby, is that you? My goodness, you look fucking gorgeous and you brought Hayden!” Half of Donna’s body popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet the newcomers. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, while she held a ladle in her right hand and the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron was covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else she was in the kitchen making.

Carmy watched as you laughed half in amusement, you and Hayden both waved in his mother’s direction. Hayden gestured for you to walk in front of him as you both made your way to the kitchen. Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girl's bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. “C’mon Hayden, I need someone to drink and gossip with.”

The man wasted no time tossing his jacket atop the rest of the pile before maneuvering around Carmy and you. Richie and Mikey had dispersed at some point leaving the foyer empty aside from the two old friends. Carmy gestured for your tote, taking it out of your hand before awkwardly helping you to slip off your jacket doing his best not to touch you unnecessarily. 

Carmy tried to match the small smile you gave him as you made to move around him but was sure he just looked miserable. He was surprised as you gripped his bicep before walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” He watched as you genuinely smiled at him for the first time in years, unsure if the rhythm his heart was beating in was healthy or not.

A concerned look washed over your face at Carmy’s silence forcing the man to hesitantly nod his head surprised you would’ve gotten him anything after all this time. He opened his mouth to speak but settled against doing so, sure he would make a fool of himself, instead giving you a small shy smile in return. Carmy watched you a moment longer, your own mouth opening and closing like his once had before you settled on a simple nod and dropped your hand back to your side, before walking into the kitchen.

Whatever little hope that interaction had given Carmy was dashed as soon as he heard Hayden’s voice call out to you. You were happy and that’s all he ever wanted, Carmy knew he should’ve been happy for you, but he couldn’t bring himself to come to terms with the fact that all of this could’ve been avoided if he had just been honest with you five years ago.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to watch as another man brought forth the happiness that once used to be reserved for him. 

a/n: well, well, well what do we have here? gonna be honest idk how the bear fandom is doing so this series rewrite may not get as much love as the original, but that doesn't bother me as much as it used to.

some quick housekeeping as we begin this journey once more; ya girl is working full time so updates will be sporadic, genuinely have no upload schedule so please if you read this rewrite be gracious and understand i have a real life outside of fic writing. other than that please enjoy like/comment/reblog it means a lot.

i've missed you all so much please fangirl with me over these two once more! 🫶🏼🤍

[goldeunoias]

Temptation.

Synopsis: Heeseung fucks a fan 💕 (let the delulu begin)

Please let me know if I should keep as a oneshot or do a part two of the story!

__________________________________________

He slipped you a piece of paper into the fangoods you'd brought to be signed, whispering a quick a "don't open it" before smiling and taking a picture with you. He moved onto the next person to talk to at the send off as if nothing had happened, holding your goods against your chest for the fear the thing he'd given you would slip out.

You looked over to your friends and wondered if you should tell them or keep it to yourself, heart racing in your ears as you tapped on their shoulder.

"I-I have to go to the bathroom, meet right by the doors so we can leave together," you rushed out, maneuvering your way through the crowd until you found a corner of the venue hall that wasn't too crowded, mostly filled with staff working on cleaning up.

You shook your stuff to let the piece of paper fall out, a string of colorful expressions leaving your mouth as you saw what you surmised to be Heeseung's hotel and room number.

Quickly gathering yourself you stood up with your heart thrumming in your ears, swallowing thickly as you made your way over to your friend.

"U-um, do you wanna just stay at a hotel instead? It's. a pretty far drive back and it's probably safer that way...don't you think," you excused, giving your friend a smile that you hoped didn't look too suspicious. "I'll cover the cost," you added on hoping that would convince her.

"No can do, remember I have to be at a networking event tomorrow," they responded. You chewed on your inner cheek and tried to think of the smartest way, going up to the police officer that waited by the door.

"Um excuse me could you escort her to her car so she won't be alone?" The guard looked perplexed but nodded your friend giving you an equally confused look when leaving. You mouthed an "I'll explain later" and called yourself a car to his hotel room, wondering how the hell this was going to play out.

When you finally found yourself outside the aforementioned hotel room you took three breaths before knowing a couple of times, your heart thrumming against your chest when opened Heeseung.

He'd removed his concert makeup and was back in his clothes before the show started, giving you a half-grin as he stepped to the side to let you in.

You squeaked out a "thank you" and went to his bed, feeling your cheeks burn at how surreal this felt.

"No need to be nervous and you can of course leave or stop at anytime," he soothed.

"Should I shower or something beforehand I mean I've been standing all day and I didn't really freshen up" you rambled out, unable to make eye contact with Heeseung as you sat at the head of his bed, keeping your eyes on your hands as to not stare anyway for too long.

Heeseung closed the door and laughed, coming to kneel down in front of you.

"Would it make you feel better if we showered?"

You nodded, your heart racing from how mischievous his eyes looked.

"Only if we shower together-"

"I don't think we'll both fit in there," you interjected standing up before he could say anything because you weren't sure if you could mentally handle a wet-bodied Heeseung.

Heeseung chuckled but relented, flopping himself on the bed as he stared at the ceiling. You used the shower as a means to prep for the ordeal you were about to divulge yourself in, giving yourself a coach pep talk before you walked out in the hotel bathrobe, cheeks shiny from the steam of your shower.

Heeseung gave you a glance that made your heart leap out of your chest, backing yourself against the wall when he stood in front of you. Your breath hitched when his hand slid on your cheek to behind your ear, rubbing your earlobe gently.

"You have a shower to take r-right," you stuttered out. The eyes you gave him made Heeseung want to ravage you on the hotel floor.

"If you give me a kiss," he teased, laughing when you put your hand up to your mouth and shook your head.

"No. I don't kiss men who won't shower," you huffed, using your strength to push him into the shower. He relented once more because he just found your mannerisms too adorable to say no, and you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart was beating.

When Heeseung finally opened the bathroom door you closed your eyes by covering them, just in case he tried to come out naked.

"You don't have to do that, I have pants on," Heeseung remarked, coming down and kneeling between your legs.

You swallowed thickly as his warm hands enveloped yours, kissing along the skin of your knuckles. His hair was darker now from how wet it was and droplets were trickling onto rosy cheeks, making him seem borderline ethereal.

"That was a pretty short shower. Are you sure you're clean," you remarked to fill the silence in the air. Heeseung broke composure and laughed into your lab, kissing your knees as he rose his head again.

"I am I am. You can check for yourself if you like..." he trailed off, rising up and gently pushing you onto your back. Your heart rate picked up speed and you tried not to let your mind run while as Heeseung lifted your leg and softly kissed your ankle up to your knee, smiling against your skin every time you looked away from him.

"Princess, I was thinking about something in the shower," he began, going underneath your bathrobe to massage your warm thighs.

Your chest rose as you felt calloused hands move against your flesh, his head lowering to kiss your lower thighs.

"Have you ever gotten off to me? Slid your pretty fingers inside yourself hoping I'd get the places you couldn't?"

The lewdness of the question made your mind halt and you stuttered out a weak "no". Heeseung chuckled and nipped at the soft flesh of your thigh, raising a brow.

"Are you sure? You got so shy when I asked you," he came up to your face his lips practically speaking against yours, "You can tell the truth princess. To be honest, I'm dying to see such a pretty doll like you get yourself off to the thought of me," Heeseung panted out.

Heeseung pressed some of his body weight down against you and your eyes widened at what you felt, Heeseung smiling against the skin of your neck when you realized.

"The thing you feel against you is how crazy you've already made me princess. Let me see your hand?" You let out a "sure" and let him take your hand and press it against his hard-on, your ears burning at how hot it felt.

"You're the one who did this to me, so can I watch you princess? Please," he almost whined.

"I'm not sure if I-I can give you a show that you likebutIcantry," you awkwardly rushed out, pushing him off of you so you could sit at the head of the bed with your legs spread.

Heeseung uttered a breathy "thank you" as you lowered your underwear, a groan leaving him once he saw how soaked you already were.

You closed your eyes and did your best to imagine him not in front of you but in your head, hyping yourself up for some courage. You started teasing your chest and bit down on your lip when you tugged at a hardened nipple, never realizing that having someone watch you could make the experience that much more tantalizing.

By the time you'd slithered your hand between your legs rubbing your swollen bud elicited sopping noises from your core, your back arching after teasing yourself so long.

"What are you imagining princess, talk to me," Heeseung groaned, his eyes trained on how puffy your clit had gotten from your teasing.

"I-I've always wanted to be edged or" a whimper left you and your toes curled for a moment, "o-overstimulated but I can't do it myself, so I imagine...you doing it," you murmured, your entrance starting to ache in a way you've never felt before.

"And in my head at least...I think you'd be good at fingering," you whined out, your breath getting heavy.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you try doing it then," he teased, his heart pounding in his ears as how turned on he was becoming.

You shook your head and whined, pressing down against your clit harder. "It doesn't feel good when I-I do it, I need...your help."

God you were going you were going to be the death of him.

Heeseung hissed through his teeth, inching closer to you. "Open your eyes princess and let me take over, I'll give the Heeseung you see in your dreams," he promised, on his breaking point.

You figured it must have been a while since he'd gotten any action and relented, Heeseung grabbing your slick-soaked fingers and sucking them clean before letting them fall to your side.

You watched with blown-out pupils as he licked his lips clean of your slick, moving you so his head was comfortably between your legs

"Shit princess you have such a nice pussy," he groaned, wasting no time before wrapping his soft lips around your swollen bud. Your back instantly arched into the sensation as you felt the heat and coarse texture of his tongue circle the bud slowly.

"Y-you're teasing me," you huffed out between heavy breaths, noticing how he made his licks borderline tedious. He chuckled and arched and brow, feigning innocence as a thick digit circled your entrance.

"Princess catches on quick I see. But weren't you the one who wanted to be edged and overstimulated?" he clucked through his tongue, borderline snickering at you when your tight walls were met with his thick digit.

Your head already felt dizzy as your walls pulsed around the intrusion, the harsh but slow licks on your clit only making your hyper aware of what you were feeling.

He tsked and nipped at your thigh to get your attention, already noticing how hazy your stare at become.

"Don't let me lose you now princess," Heeseung teased as he slid in another digit, the stretch remedying the ache you were feeling in your core. "Where does princess like to be fingered I wonder...here?" he remarked innocently, curling his fingers too shallow on purpose.

You shook your head and tried to grab his wrist to guide him, Heeseung clucking his tongue as to not. "Nuh-uh princess, you gotta talk to me not just show me. How else am I to learn your special spots?"

"Deeper, go deeper," you rapsed out, closing your legs around his hand when you felt the pads of his fingers press where it felt best. Heeseung hummed at your reaction, scissoring your core to stretch out the muscle as much as possible.

"Poor thing, how am I supposed to edge you when you're giving me such soft eyes," Heeseung cooed, speeding up his fingers as his tongue wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly.

You whined and tried to push your foot against his shoulder to get him off of you, the knot in your lower tightening to the point where your legs were shaking.

"w-wait, slowdown," you breathed out, trying not to be too loud so the people next door wouldn't hear you.

"My name," Heeseung ordered against your puffy and abused clit, licking it over with the tip of his tongue before flattening his muscle against it. "Say my name."

You widened your eyes and shook your head, wondering how insane he had to be to want you to moan out his name in a crowded hotel.

He scoffed and moved himself so his face was directly above yours, his two digits now stilled in your heat.

"There are other people on t-the floor," you reasoned, tensing up Heeseung licked a wet stripe up your neck and to your ear lobe. He licked the shell of it before nipping at it.

"What are you doing focusing on other people princess?" He remarked through a pout, sliding in a third digit and sucking on your bottom lip as your jaw went slack. "Aren't you supposed to only be focusing on me?"

"I-I'romise I am," you keened out, your nails digging into the sheets as you felt the knot in your lower belly tighten.

"So say it," Heeseung cooed against your lips, emphasizing his point by speeding up his fingers.

"H-heeseung," you croaked out, your inner thighs becoming slick with arousal as you got close.

"Good girl~, and who's making you feel this good?"

"Hee-" you bit on your lower lip to quiet a loud moan, "seung, Lee Heeseung."

"Good girl~, now g'head and cum for me so I can fuck you nice and good yeah?" Heeseung sweetly asked, holding your face in place so you could only make hazy eye-contact with him as the knot got too tight before snapping.

His name now fell from your lips like a waterfall as his fingers continued pressing against your special spots, unable to stop shaking as he stood up on his knees.

Your eyes widened as he lowered his pajama pants and you were faced with something that you weren't sure was gonna fit, though your eyes were trained on the copious amounts of precum that had leaked from the tip.

"See this princess? I told you you're driving me crazy," Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, a strangled groan leaving him when he squeezed at his base, more droplets leaking from his reddened tip.

You squeezed your legs together in anticipation as he then reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, pressing it against your lips softly.

"Rip it for me yeah?"

You nodded and gently ripped it with your teeth, watching intently as he slid it on and position himself back between your legs.

"Shit princess~," he groaned when he saw your core drenched in syrupy arousal, rubbing his tip against your folds to collect the drops.

"I was afraid you weren't going to be wet enough but you're fucking drenched," He hissed as he pushed his tip past your folds. You immediately tensed up at how large the stretch was, whimpers leaving you mewls of his name following in suit.

"I know princess, it's okay, in through your nose out through your mouth like this," Heeseung soothed, watching you intently as you mimicked his breathing pattens, his hips slowly inching in every time you breathed out.

When he'd bottomed out you couldn't help but squirm as you felt his tip push against your cervix, the foreign but tingly sensation it elicited making you want more.

"You can move now, please," you added on, wiggling your hips to satiate the tingle you felt in your lower belly.

"How can I say no to someone who's asking so sweetly," Heeseung remarked sweetly, moving his hips so every time his tip was pressing against your stomach.

You keened out his name before covering your mouth to silence yourself, ragged breathing leaving through your nose as a consequence.

"Nuh-uh princess, let them hear everything," Heeseung whispered against your ear, grabbing your wrists and pinning them against your head. His gentle ministrations had now been swapped for languid but intense thrusts, though you could tell he was only giving you half of his length.

"H-heseung it's not'nuff," you panted out, moving your hips against his desperately to satisfy yourself. Heeseung chuckled at how whiny you were becoming, such a stark contrast to the timid girl that walked through the door.

"It isn't?" he pouted at you, rolling his hips in to you to tease you, "does princess want a kiss then?" he offered up, already leaning in.

You shook your head and covered your mouth and his, Heeseung furrowing his brows.

"K-kissing is what people...in relationships do," you stuttered out.

Heeseung let it off with a smile to hide the tinge of jealousy he felt in chest, his lips instead going to your neck to mark it as his.

"Come to my next show princess," Heeseung offered up, nipping at the skin over your jugular as he squeezed your hands. "I'll give you every inch if I get to see your pretty face at my concert next week," he teased, his hips starting to move out until you were left with just the tip.

"You're crazy," you panted out, whining when Heeseung continued to kiss across your chest and neck, humming in agreement.

"I'll cover airfare and hotel," he continued, unfazed. He'd never been so possessive nor obsessive before but the thought of letting another man touch your skin made his crawl and he refused to let that be a reality.

"At t-that point you're just being my sugar daddy," you reasoned, your hands gripping at his hair when his warm mouth attached to a pert nipple, leaving your core completely neglected.

"We can go out to dinner that night and split the check then," he countered, giving you teasing eyes. "Pretty please?" he added on, giving you soft kisses across your sternum.

Your back arched at the soft sensations and you blamed the endorphins from sex as the reason you panted out an "okay", Heeseung wasting no time pushing all of his inches into you.

"H-hee wait-" your sentence was cut short by his tip making contact with your cervix, your toes curling as Heeseung lifted one of your legs and draped it on your shoulder.

The sounds coming from your core made your face burn but Heseung was reveling in it, desperate to mold your walls into a shape that only he could fill.

You instinctively went to bite down on your lip to silence your sounds, Heeseung tsking and pushing himself impossibly deeper.

"C'mon princess, tell the people on the floor who's making you feel this good," he grinned, his teeth tugging at your ear.

"H-heeseung," you choked out, feeling another knot tighten in your lower belly.

"Mhmm, and who's about to make you cum?"

"y-you." At this point your mind was truly a mess, whining out a "I'm close" as Heeseung pressed you into a mating press, desperate to make you both cum.

I'm not letting you go...

He thought to himself as he watched you leave scratch marks down his chest and breathy moans fall from your lips.

Why should I have to let you go?

He continued as he felt something tight form in his own stomach, begging himself to hold out a little longer so he could cum with you.

I won't.

He concluded, coming into the condom with a strangled groan to match your breathy moan.

You both lay there shaking for a moment as you came down from your highs, Heeseung resisting the urge to plant a kiss on your parted lips.

"If I'm in the front row will I distract you?" you wondered after awhile, giggling when Heeseung scoffed and rolled his eyes. Heeseung sat up before gently easing himself out of you, throwing the condom away and leading you to the bathroom for a round two.

"If you wear the skirt that you did tonight you will."

**********************************************

THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING!

please please please let me know if you guys want this as a part two as well or keep it as a oneshot! comments, reblogs, and anons are the reason why I write so much for Heeseung so please keep them coming if you want more Heeseung content from me >_<

[luveline]

Derek and shy!reader maybe? Meeting the team for the first time and none of them are expecting Derek's partner to be standing half-hidden behind him, shyly waving at them instead of saying anything

thank you for ur request! fem!reader

"So what's the deal?" Emily asks Penelope, licking the stem of her paper umbrella dry before dropping it onto a napkin. "He's suddenly going steady?" 

"Can you call five months sudden?" Rossi asks. 

Hotch nudges him. 

"What?" Rossi asks. "Can you? Five months is a long time." 

"And that's why you had to send Christmas cards to three different divorce lawyers this year," Emily says. 

Emily has a penchant for saying the occasional brazen comment, but JJ confiscates her friend's margarita anyways, before the booze loosens her lips and she says something worse. It's a small jet. 

"It's not like Morgan," Spencer agrees, standing at Rossi's other side, looking less out of place than usual. 

"It's totally like him," Penelope says.

Hotch's smile is hard to read, which is a spectacle considering current company. "I agree." 

"Here he is now," Penelope says excitedly, clapping her hands in front of her chest. 

Derek strides into the bar and past its patrons without a care in the world. He looks happy, content, and the team doesn't need to see you to know you're with him. He smiles at his phone at work exactly as he smiles now, with his arm stretched backwards to tether you along. 

You come into view as the crowd thins. You're not what anyone's expecting, certainly not plain but nor are you dressed up. Emily, in her tipsiness, declares that you look adorable, and receives a reproachful look from Hotch in reward. 

"Hey Derek!" JJ calls as soon as he's near enough. 

"Hey, guys. Mama, you remember what we talked about?" Derek asks Penelope. 

She nods sagely. "Restraint. I'm restraining myself. Oh my god you're so cute, I'm Penelope! I'm so happy to meet you." 

"Hi," you say. 

No less than five pairs of eyes fall to your hand as you twist your fingers into Derek's sleeve. He doesn't bat an eye, taking a half step in front of you, a picture of casualness as he introduces you to each of them in turn. 

"It's nice to meet you," Hotch says, seemingly speaking for the whole group. 

You raise your hand and give a stilted wave. Your eyes look sad and stressed at once, but you don't sound either, softly saying, "You too." 

Derek wraps a muscled arm behind your neck, grinning while he meets Penelope's eyes. "What are we drinking tonight?"

Your eyebrows pinch up at the starts. You smile at them all despite your obvious nervousness, and it's enough for each of them to reach the same conclusion simultaneously. You're shy, but you're good. A broad sweep yet easy to make. It's obvious how much you care for Derek if you'd been willing to meet them like this when you clearly don't feel comfortable.

Luckily for you, Penelope is excellent as making people feel welcome. "We're drinking Y/N's choice. What do you like? Sugar shots? Mojitos?" 

Your lips part, unprepared for a direct question so soon. 

Derek turns his head to yours, giving you what Emily deems the most ridiculous puppy dog eyed smile anyone has ever given, and what Rossi knows is a ring waiting to happen. He should know. 

"Let's go figure it out. Another round, from me?" he offers. 

He's quick to steer you away, but not too quick to miss Rossi's, "Something strong if you want us old timers to stay!" 

They wait for you to be safely out of earshot before they condense, bad gossips and worse actors off the job. "Who would've thought?" Emily asks. 

"She's not what I was expecting," JJ says. 

"Are we that intimidating?" Rossi asks, raising his eyebrows. The answer being yes, of course, though none of them are aware of just how scary they can be. You'd felt like you were standing in front of a pack of wolves. 

"She seemed nice," Spencer says. Trust him to say something sweet. Trust the rest of Derek's friends to agree, the group nodding and humming at various pitches.

"She seemed silent," Emily jokes. 

Penelope crosses her fingers and closes her eyes, earrings swinging against the blond tresses of her curled hair as she drops her head. "God, my muffin deserves nice. Please let this work out, she looks so sweet. I just wanna pinch her cheeks." 

"It's gonna work out," Hotch says surely. 

If Derek could hear him, he'd agree on the spot, but he's too busy praising you halfway across the room for such a stellar introduction.