#be yourself*!! (*terrible advice)
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Carpe Caput, not Kaput...
... or something.
The other evening, a new acquaintance was asking advice in a group about how to make a solid go of it in a creative field I'm only just starting to peer into, so I felt I had nothing to offer, but actually, in hindsight? I'm pretty sure a lot of the same advice applies to pretty much most creative fields (and possibly broader), so here goes:
Show up. I'm serious. Practise, try new methods, work hard at your craft. Put in the hours. Turn up to events, reliably. If you're booked for something, turn up on time. Check what the producer/ host means by "on time" - too early can be as stressful for them as too late. If you need to cancel, postpone, or let them know you're running late, do your best to tell them that well in advance of the event starting. They probably won't be able to take messages otherwise. This goes whether you're an open mic attendee or a headliner, and everything else in between. If you do this too much, don't expect people to ignore that, no matter how nice and/ or talented you might be.
Be helpful, polite, and/ or personable. If you struggle with what that looks like, for neurospicy or other social anxiety/ processing reasons, the best, very best thing you can do for a producer is ask what they need and pay attention to what they actually say, especially if you can give a short list of the kind of things you know you're good at doing. Including fetching refreshments for in-venue events. Hell, offering to keep them company while they do a boring-but-fiddly thing it would take too long to explain to other people is great. Do not be offended if they say no at first. They don't know you. You haven't turned up enough for them to form an impression of your utility. The same goes for compliments - work out what actually makes them feel pleased about themselves or their work, which means observing. Fending off meaningless/ unwanted compliments can get really tiring.
Thank people. It's amazing how far properly and sincerely thanking people goes. This applies so far across the board, and not just in the arts. Doesn't have to be elaborate or embarrassingly effusive, but genuine thanks are a wonderful gift.
Take criticism, but don't take shit. I have stolen this phrasing from an excellent producer I know. It's a really succinct way of putting something it took me a long while to learn. Take opportunities to learn from people who know better than you, but don't feel you're supposed to please everyone at every turn, whether they're the producer or you're the producer, especially if it means sacrificing too many bits of your own psyche, let alone any of your own soul. You can leave a situation without sacrificing everything. Which leads us to:
Not everyone is going to like you. They're just not. You're not going to be to everyone's taste. That's fine. I do not mean by this to aim to become some tedious edgelord. There are already far too many of those. I just mean: let go of the grief that comes with incompatibility. Use it to learn how to choose your targets better, but don't let it rule you. RSD is a bastard, but it generally doesn't have all the facts. Be prepared to let go with grace. Talking of which:
Don't be afraid to ask for feedback/ give it if asked. You never know. And see #4.
You are going to fuck up. Own it. Learn from it. Process and communicate the lessons. Don't let it stop you striving (but do let it stop you being a dick about it).
Don't burn your bridges. I can barely believe I'm typing this on the internets in the year 2024, but holy shit - making a life as a creator is hard enough without alienating people. And creators look out for each other so yes: people will talk if you start flinging insults and other harm around when someone doesn't give you what you want. Stop. Think. Outsource your common sense to a proper friend (i.e. one who will tell you that you're overreacting) if necessary. Do not publicly insult other producers and creatives in your field. If someone has done grievous hurt to you, of course talk to other people about it, but please, for the love of all that's holy, if you find all your friends giving up on you, one-by-one or in droves, you need to stop, breathe, find another way, work out how you can (re)construct rather than (self-)destruct in the wake of a disappointment. I do not mean to ignore or play down actual harm done to you. Emphatically not. Just consider whether e.g. not getting an opportunity you really, really wanted is actually a conspiracy, or maybe you didn't learn from some spectacular #7...
Acknowledge your privilege. Probably preaching to choir here on Tumblr, but if you find yourself envying people of less privilege than you, saying "Huh, I don't get booked because I'm not [insert marginalised demographic here]!" you definitely want to stop and consider your motives, and what your brain is actually telling you. Are you missing community? Are you missing cohesion? Are you missing feeling special? You're a fucking artist - you're already special, and there's a great deal of community to be found, even if you think your work/ style/ taste is too niche. Possibly especially if you think your work/ style/ taste is too niche. But if you find yourself putting effort into believing that there's truly a conspiracy to put [insert mainstream demographic(s) here] out of work or out of the limelight, I hate to tell you this, but you're not coming from a place of good faith at all. Work out what the actual problem is, and solve that. But not by joining the fascists. Please. Those people are not your friends.
Don't quit the dayjob. I learned this the hard way. Whatever your Next Great Move is, try it out first in bitesize increments. Unless you're independently wealthy, in which case fucking go for it. And maybe share some of the wealth while you're at it. 😉 Sometimes we don't have much of a choice and we have to make a go of the creative career because of diverse Difficult Times. If that happens, don't be afraid to ask for help. Seriously. Ask for help.
I'm manifestly not the world's most successful poet/ musician/ voice artist/ storyteller/ publisher/ event promoter, and I've definitely screwed up a bunch of times (although I sincerely hope I haven't done an #8 or #9!), but I think these are reasonably sensible things to take into account (and I need to work harder on many of them myself). The thing is: I've seen too many people founder on their own entitlement with too little to back it up. I've witnessed people succumb to the temptation to steal ideas, sometimes word-for-word, because certain measures of success seemed more important than creative integrity and pride in their own work. I've seen people burning their bridges and then complain very loudly about the smoke inhalation. I've seen people surrender to jealousy and untapped depths of bigotry because they felt lonely and out of place. And I've seen people act as though no-one else is real and this means that they can take whatever their ego demands they be fed.
None of these things work for long, and none of them seem to satisfy - there will always be something missing in the attention and stimulation these dark paths cast an artist's way. And I'd feel sorry for all of them, if the more extreme exemplars weren't causing awful damage as they go.
Anyway, if you've more to add, please do so - no matter how slowly, sometimes, I do love to learn!
#fay speaks#advice#being an artist is hard#performer's life#artist's life#creatives#how to get ahead#terrible latin puns#I'm very tired of cleaning up after horrible people#stop hurting other people in the name of ambition; including yourself
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" I'm trying to have a good reputation down there... How exhausting it's is." ( Ciel during Weston arc)
ㅤ███▐ @lightcreators. | ♛ | unprompted. ( always accepting ! )
ㅤㅤ❝ IS IT REALLY ? It seems to me that you have become such a popular fellow these days, though, Ciel ! Did you have another disagreement with someone ? Naturally I shall help you two make up, if that's the case ! ❞
He’d done a splendid job of it the first time, hadn’t he ! A good - natured pat, pat, pat of encouragement upon a small back as Soma — largely unaware of the bigger picture and true crux of the matter though he may be — is at least happy to be of service to his gloomy friend by lending an ear to vented griefs. Between the Earl’s perpetually busy schedule, and the ' TRADITIONS ' in place that didn’t exactly facilitate intermingling of the Houses ( this college governed by nothing if not the silliest regulations, Soma has long since concluded ) , the chances for even brief conversations like these were always too few and far between !
ㅤㅤ❝ Oh, but I don’t think you should be worrying so much about fitting in. Just be your earnest self and your peers will adore you, you’ll see ! ❞
#;; 👑 █ ic#;; 👑 █ an audience with his highness ◜ { ɪɴϙᴜɪʀɪᴇs. }#lightcreators#be yourself*!! (*terrible advice)
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I really want to start writing for the Gotham rogues because I have so many ideas but the ones that I like and have ideas for aren’t the popular ones so I’m really scared that I’m gonna flop and get no notes and the rogues fandom is already small compared to the batfamily fandom so I’m just so anxious about posting. And I know you’re supposed to post for fun but I know myself and if I get zero notes, I will feel badly.
(anon i am so sorry i'm editing to add this: i don't know if you wanted advice or not and i gave it oops ;-;)
oof yeah i hear you, but you just have to push past that! a couple things i would say to you in the hopes that it sort of encourages you or gives you something to think about or is a helpful tip though!!
i obviously don't know where you're at in terms of like tumblr etc. or if your friends are already in the fandom but it helps to make some friends first! people who will read what you're writing, either to help you or to support you or because they just enjoy it! that way you know you have someone who will read it and like it!
tumblr is garbage for notes etc. do you know how many times people request something like "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE THIS!!!!!!!! I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER" and then that same motherfucker won't even like it let alone reblog it when it's been posted? in general, the notes you get are no an indication or quality or what people want to read! some of the best fics i've ever read are languishing at like 20 notes after years of being online
if you want to feel a bit more encouraged, i would advise posting to ao3 instead/as well. at least there you can see how many people have viewed your fic if the little number is something that would encourage you.
i find it so odd that the batfam is more popular than the rogues, but then again i am a filthy little fictional hybristophile so i would think that. make your niche. am i bothered when i post a piss kink fic for a character no one cared about really until like a month ago and get 10 likes? yeah. am i gonna stop writing it? fuckin no
it's not always gonna feel good and it's not always gonna feel fun buut baby at least you're doing something 💚 tag me in your first post if you write something! i'll give it a read, i'll share it! even if it's not my thing, there might be some people who follow me who it will sing to u-u
and if you're worried about it being bad, you're not going to get better just sitting there with your ideas in your head 💚
#finnie out here dispensing utterly terrible advice when she has no business doing so BUT#you gotta just get out there and not care and be silly#if it stops being fun then stop#you will notice that i do take breaks from writing when i go in a little huff#usually when my niche character/kink pairing didnt get 300 notes overnight#but you get over yourself eventually when you think of the next thing you want to write#friends being friends#anon
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Earlier today I made a purchase that wasn’t necessary
#you cant 'we have food at home' yourself into not getting food outside when you havent done groceries in weeks#follow for more terrible budgeting advice#but...the way i rationalize it is...i worked at school til 7. i deserve a little treat...
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Hi kana, I really wanted a suggestion from you,
So there is a girl whom I had a crush for more than fives years and also had dated for 3 months. But now her bestfriend is her boy friend and she is madly in love with him. But I really can't stay without her. It hurts a lot when I hear that they had make out or see them together. But even now she feels sad whenever I cry or I'm sad and even can feel when I'm faking my laugh. Now I just can't take it anymore. Even if I bitch about her boyfriend, she scolds me, but how tf can I forget how he took my life from me. I can't fucking focus on anything, I really can't take it anymore. I'm gonna leave the state in the next few months but till then, please suggest me how I can have the desire to live.
Hi, honey, so sorry for the late reply, I've been taking some time off to focus on my family...
oh god I'm so sorry that you're going through this right now, I'm sending you a big, big hug okay? though not exactly the same, I've been put in a similar position in the past so I know how you feel, more or less.
this is such a pathetic advice but talking from experience, i swear it will get better soon. in my case, i just tried to put some distance and tried to distract myself with something else. i know it's hard to focus on anything right now, but please try. if you keep staying close, i'm afraid that you'll end up hurting yourself or hurting her feelings too. maybe keep yourself busy with other stuff instead? find a new hobby, join a new fandom, interact with new people. if you're really planning to move somewhere, you can be excited about that too! learn about new places, list down the stuff you're going to do once you get there.
it will get better, just hang in there, love
#i'm terrible at giving advice so i'm sorry for not being helpful 😭😭😭#i'll be here to listen if you wanna vent out okay?#sending you so much love right now!#take care of yourself darling!#kana answers stuff
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Every post I see about "hide your alterhuman identity!" let me like wtf this isn't a good thing to say, this isn't a good thing to say ever to someone. If you wouldn't say that to a queer person, why would you advise this to an alterhuman person? (and as much as people try to portray these as totally different and separate experiences, the truth is that hiding your alterhuman identity is just as painful).
#i know about the danger to display some part of yourselves to closed-minded people but “hide yourself” should never come as a eager advice#“hiding is actually good in this situation!” wtf wtf#hiding shouldn't be required for anyone!#why are people like this#hiding everything and closing yourself in a bubble also has another terrible consequence#there are many people in the world who could benefit from hearing about our experiences#many people who doesn't know whats happening with them and whose life would be very much better before hear us#hiding shouldn't be mandatory
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The books are out—you can order a copy from Finishing Line Press!
#poetry#my poetry#mythology#finding yourself#overcoming stasis#trauma recovery#Loki gives both terrible and useful advice#Persephone#the muses
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SO how do I come out as a girl to my mom (previous anon who came and found out I'm a girl)
Oh, I'm not sure.
Congrats again of course!!
I feel like you'll just sort of know when and how will work for your situation y'know?
#I'd hate to give some kind of advice that backfires terribly since I don't know much of the whole picture#also I feel like you'll find a way with a lot of meaning for you if you give yourself the time to think about it!!
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does anyone have any advice/resources for finding remote work? (ideally customer service, very entry level in the service industry, i have experience with travel through hotels but not much else) with very limited work history and skills? im location locked for the winter, and in a small, transphobic town where i have really bad history, even if there were a lot of jobs here, and i feel so doomed, im already short for rent every month by 50 CAD, and things feel very bleak! i know a lot of it is building skills most likely but i don't even know where to begin with that. please just help me get my life back on track 😭 i am so tired of being so stressed all the time !
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just practice
paring! bsf!jj x reader
in which! you have a date coming up and you still haven’t lost your virginity, so you go to your best friend in the hopes he will help you out and save you from embarrassment
warnings! smut. loss of virginity. oral sex (f. receiving) pnv sex. unprotected sex.
part 2
you find jj at the chateau, laying in a hammock on the porch with his shirt off and a joint between his fingers. you could smell the scent of weed before you even made it to the door and jj gave you a smile when he noticed you.
“hey, j.” you greeted, now standing in front of the bench. “you busy?”
“what’s it look like?” he took a long drag from the joint and exhaled. you couldn’t help but grin at his glazed over eyes and his genuine, high smile.
you glanced into the screen door, looking for john b, or anyone else, but couldn’t see well from the smoky haze.
“anyone home?”
he shakes his head no.
“kie and pope are working, think john b’s out with sarah.” he says. “why? you okay?” his eyes soften and you notice his look of concern.
“yeah,” you smile, “everything’s fine, just need to uh- talk to you.” you had no idea how you were gonna go through with this without making it incredibly awkward. you already felt sick to your stomach at the thought of him rejecting you and never seeing you the same way after this.
jj nods and stubs out his joint. he stands up and opens the screen door, motioning for you to enter first.
“after you.”
you smile and step inside, but you soon begin to feel ill at the fact that you were really going to ask him this. you wanted this to happen, but you were terribly nervous.
you lead him to his room and close the door behind you. he sits on the edge of the bed and you follow, sitting crisss cross, facing him.
“you sure everything’s fine?” he asks, obviously questioning the fact that you wanted to speak to him in his room, and that you were silent.
“i told you about that guy i’ve been talking to for a few weeks, yeah?” you start, not wanting to make eye contact with the boy.
“yeah.” he nods.
you try not to pick at the skin of your fingernails.
“okay, well, he asked me out.” you say. “the date’s tomorrow.”
he furrows his eyebrows in question, noticing that you sounded kind of disappointed about something that was supposed to be good.
“well that’s a good thing, right?” he scoffed. “i mean, i cant remember the last time you went on a date.”
“shut up.” you nudge him. “yeah, it’s a good thing… i like him- i think.”
“alright, well, that’s all you wanted to tell me?” he asks. “you don’t need dating advice right? because i can’t help you in that department.”
you fight a smile at his remark and shake your head no.
“okay, here’s the thing.” you sigh before you force out your next words, absolutely dreading his reaction. “i don’t know if he’ll wanna sleep with me eventually, and, well he’s kind of experienced with girls and all that, and i’m kind of…. not.” you cringe at your choice of words, already regretting coming to jj out of embarrassment. you glance at him momentarily and he seems to be studying you, waiting for you to keep talking. “what i mean is, like-“ you sighed. you knew you sounded like a complete idiot, but you didn’t want to back out now.
“you know i’m a virgin, right?” you didn’t even want to look at him after the words came out of your mouth.
he smiled a little.
“i, uh, i figured.” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly and cleared his throat.
“don’t be a dick.” you shove him once again and he chuckles, which allows you to lighten up just slightly. “i’m saying that i don’t know what i’m doing - y’know, with guys and all that. i don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”
“so you want… sex advice? from me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with suspicion.
you nervously bite the inside of your cheek and your face grows hot.
“well, i thought maybe a little more hands on.” you said before you could even stop yourself. you knew you had to just come out and say it or you would’ve backed out and nothing would ever come of this situation. you searched his face for a reaction.
he looked confused, but he didn’t seem whole heartedly against the idea. the silence between you both was becoming awkward and you felt the need to explain yourself, hopefully making the situation sound less like you were coming on to him and more like a friend just asking for help.
“i mean like, because you’re a guy and all, you would know what guys like best, i guess?” you said, as you watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean against the headboard of the bed. “and i was thinking about the fact that i’m going on a date for the first time since freshman year and now there’s a very high chance that i’ll sleep with him in the coming weeks, and it just- i don’t know, the idea of losing my virginity to someone i’ve known for a month didn’t really sound good to me.” you we’re rambling at this point to try and defend your case. “i would rather do it with someone i know, and trust.”
“you want me to take your virginity?” he asked, blatantly. “that’s what you came here for?”
you nod, probably chewing a hole into your cheek now.
“if it’s too weird for you, you don’t have to do it at all, it’s okay.” you said. “you were just the only person i felt like i could ask without it being awkward.”
“no, no,” his expression softens and he shakes his head, pulling his arms from his chest and taking his back off the headboard. “i’ll do it.”
“really?” your eyes light up because you expected this to go far south.
“yeah, no big deal.” he shrugs, even though in his head he knew it was a huge deal. he was going to be your first time and if he screwed it up, there was no telling what would happen between you two. “but, this won’t change anything between us right?” he asked. “like i just don’t want it to be awkward afterwards.”
“i swear.” you said, although you didn’t entirely know if that was the truth. “you’re just helping me out, right?”
“alright.” he responds. “you, uh, you wanna do this now or..?” he clears his throat again, visibly getting nervous, but your fears seemed to be disappearing now that you knew he wasn’t against the idea.
“the sooner, the better.” you said.
jj gets up from the bed and flips the lock on the door on the off chance someone were to come home.
“just a warning though,” you start, “i’ll definitely be really bad at this compared to the other girls you’ve been with.”
“that’s all right, you gotta learn somewhere.” he says, walking back to you and stopping right in front of where you were sitting on the bed. your heart started to race as the reality of what you were about to do started setting in. he sits down next to you and you could smell salt water and weed on his skin. “i’m gonna start with kissing you, is that okay?” you searches your face for confirmation and you nod, giving him the okay. “and you’ll tell me if i’m taking things too fast or if you wanna stop, right?”
you giggle a little at his attention to the matter.
“yes jj.”
you see a very slight smile appear on his lips before he slowly leaned in and connected them with yours. he tasted like weed but in the most perfect way as he skillfully moved his lips in sync with yours. his tongue softly swiped your bottom lip at the same time his hands found their way to the sides of your face and he held you there gently. you took him touching you as a sign to occupy your own hands with his body as you brought your hands around his back, feeling his bare skin.
his kisses started leading down your chin, and further down onto your neck where he connected his lips with your skin. you shivered at the new feeling of someone kissing your neck as he went lower still, reaching your collarbone. he pulled away and tugged at the him of your shirt, asking for more access to your body and he helped you out of the fabric.
“you doin okay?” he asks.
“totally fine.”
he connects his lips to your collar again as he carefully lays you down onto your back. he fights the urge not to leave any hickeys on you, knowing you had a date tomorrow.
you scoot your body up until you’re in the middle of the bed so that he can easily get on top of you. he continues kissing your body, getting lower and lower and with each passing second, you could feel yourself getting hotter and your arousal getting stronger. his mouth reached the waistband of your jean shorts and he looked up your for permission to take them off. you nodded and he unbuttoned them before sliding them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
jj kissed the curve of your hipbone and you mindlessly rolled your core up towards his mouth, to which you could feel him smirk against your skin at your neediness.
“i’ll get there princess.” he said against the space under your bellybutton. you practically lost your breath at his words and your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment.
he continued kissing you even lower, placing his lips over clothed core and hooking a finger underneath the hem of your bikini bottoms.
“can i take these off?” he asked.
“please.” you nod, almost sounding too desperate.
he pulls your bottoms down your legs, leaving you exposed to him. the first time anyone had seen you like this, and you were thankful it was jj and not some random boy who didn’t know the first thing about you.
“you still alright?”
“jj,” you giggle. “i’ll tell you if somethings wrong, okay?”
“just being courteous.” he joked.
he brought his hand to your now bare core and used his thumb to swipe a line from your entrance up to your clit, making you whine from just one touch. he spreads your wetness around your clit, his pants growing tighter at the sight of your arousal. as he rubs painfully slow circles, he searches your face for signs of enjoyment, but your eyes were shut tight and your lips were parted, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth.
“just relax, okay?” he said, to which you nod eagerly. you were totally not relaxed at all. in fact you were amped on adrenaline from the way he kissed you.
and then before you could register what was happening, you felt something new touching you. you opened your eyes and looked down at jj’s face in between your thighs, seeing his tongue swirling over your clit. it felt better than any time you had ever touched yourself. his eyes met yours for a second and you wondered why you never asked him to do this any sooner even though you pictured him going down on you many times before
your hands found their way to his blonde locks, your fingers tangling into his hair as you threw your head back on the pillow.
“oh my god, jj” you moaned, to which he picked up the pace a little. he gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart, occasionally rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs to relax you.
his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, making you jolt your hips up in pleasure at the new sensation. your legs were trembling under his grip and jj didn’t think he could get any harder, but he was, in fact, getting harder by the minute.
“jj,” you moaned his name, “please don’t stop!” you were pulling his hair tighter, trying not to be too loud in case anyone were to come home, but it was impossible to keep your mouth shut with the way he was eating your pussy. “feels so good” you cried.
your hips were rocking back and forth, rolling in the same rhythm as his tongue, practically riding his face. he knew you were close based on the fact that your moans were getting closer together and your legs were shaking harder. he suddenly switched the direction of his tongue, now going side to side and occasionally sucking on your clit, swallowing your juices.
your back was arched off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for something to hold on to as your high approached in small waves. you moved one hand to cover your mouth, trying to stifle your moans, but jj immediately reached up to your arm and pulled it from your face, not stopping his movements.
“need to hear you cum” he said against your clit before harshly sucking on it.
“fuck” you moaned, his words alone almost leading you over the edge.
he snuck two fingers into your entrance and slowly moved them against the sweet spot inside you. the mixture of his mouth expertly lapping at your clit and his fingers pushing into you had you coming undone.
“fuck- don’t stop- please- don’t st-“ you couldn’t even get the last words out as you felt yourself completely lose control. you didn’t know how loud you were moaning because all of your senses had faltered as the tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over you.
he kept licking until you had fully ridden out your orgasm, and even then, he continued, his grip still tight on your legs as they trembled. you pushed his head away from the overstimulation and then lay limp, your chest rising and falling as you came down, your eyes still closed.
“need a second?” he asked, mockingly, his hands running up your torso and to your still covered breasts. he felt your nipples harden under your bikini top and he desperately wanted to get you out of it.
you wrap your arms around his back and pull him on top of you, connecting your lips with his again. he immediately kisses you back and reaches behind you to undo your top, which quickly comes off and jj’s eyes land on your breasts. he takes them both in his hands and leans over you to suck your nipple, making you shiver.
you occupy your own hands with his belt, fumbling with the clasp until it’s undone and pulling it through the loops.
he pulls himself away from your tits and starts undoing the zipper before his eyes meet yours.
“you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks.
“i wouldn’t be fully naked in front of you right now if i wasn’t.” you joke.
he gets up from the bed to take his shorts off and look around the room, presumably for a condom.
“john b’s gotta have some around here, hold on.” he says, opening up the top drawer of the dresser and rummaging through the pairs of socks and underwear.
“you don’t have to, jay.” you say, but he doesn’t listen, still looking inside the dresser for any small, silver packages. “i’m on birth control.”
he turns around cocks his head at you.
“what?” you question. “makes my periods lighter.” you shrug.
“i’m still pulling out though.” he says before he walks back to the edge of the bed and slides his boxers off, revealing his achingly hard cock. you visibly got nervous at his length, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. jj notices the redness in your face and gets into the bed, pushing hair out of your face with his fingers. “i’ll stop if it’s too much, just tell me.” you nod, anxiously and he positions himself on top of you, stroking his cock a few times before you feel his tip at your entrance. his eyes meet yours for confirmation and you give him a nod.
his cock slowly pushes into you, not even an inch as he doesn’t want to hurt you. you shut your eyes hard, preparing for it to hurt, but you feel barely any pain. he kisses your neck and pushes himself in a little farther.
“this feel okay?” he asks against your skin.
“feels good, j.” your hands find their way to his back again.
once he bottoms out, you feel a slight pressure at your cervix before he slowly starts moving, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.
you hear jj moan in your ear from the painfully slow strokes he was taking, trying to keep himself from going too fast for you. his cock rubbed against your g-spot and you kiss the area in between his collar and neck.
“i’m okay jj.” you reassure him. “faster, please.”
he picks up the pace and continues kissing your neck. your nails dig into the skin of his back.
“you feel so good” he moans. “doin’ so good for me- fuck.” he didn’t even realize what he was saying, but you enjoyed the hell out of it. his praises added to the pleasure of him inside you.
he was going fast enough now that you could hear your skin hitting against each others as your hips connected. every thrust was stroking your sweet spot and you were pretty sure you were leaving scratches on his back, but jj felt too good to even notice.
he leaned back a little so that all his weight was on his knees and his back was straight as he grabbed one of your legs for support and used his other hand to rub your clit at the same time he was fucking you. the double stimulation illicited a loud moan from you that encouraged jj to keep going, almost nearing his end.
his thrusts were getting sloppier and his breathing was heavier but he wanted to make you finish before him. your chest heaved, feeling the new sensation of him filling you up at the same time as his fingers worked on your clit. the pressure was building up and you knew you were close. you suddenly pulled him against you so that your chests were pressed against each others.
“fuck- jj” you moaned. “m’so close.”
his heavy breathing sounded like heaven to you as he started to fuck you even harder, his cock sliding perfectly in and out of you.
“sweetheart” he moaned into your neck. “m’not gonna last much longer.”
almost immediately after he said those words, you felt the band in your stomach snap as you came around his cock, squeezing and pulling him deeper inside you. you cried out his name as he fucked you through your second orgasm.
“fuck, baby-“ he pulled out of you and stroked his cock that was slick with your wetness. you watched his face contort in pleasure, his eyes barely open and his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed. his cum shot onto your stomach and tits.
he tried not to stare too long at the mess he made of you, realizing almost as soon as he finished that this was a one time thing he may never get you like this again.
he got out of the bed and grabbed a shirt of the floor, which he cleaned you up with and tossed it.
“you okay?” he asked again.
you rolled your eyes.
“how many times are you gonna ask that?” you scoffed. “i liked it, j. don’t know how my date’s gonna top that.” you joked.
then, jj remembered that this was all practice for you to go and have sex with another guy and he suddenly felt sick. he pulled his boxers back on and picked up your articles of clothing from the floor and tossed them to you.
the truth is, you didn’t even want to go on that date anymore. not after the way jj took care of you.
“hey, jj!” a voice, john b’s, ripped through the chateau and both of your eyes widened, looking at each other with panic. “you home?”
you swiftly put your bottoms and shorts back on in under 30 seconds and shrugged yourself into your flimsy shirt while jj was putting his belt back on. you quickly exited john b’s room before he could see where you both came from and you nervously greeted him in the living room to see that sarah and kie were home as well.
“heyy, jb.” jj said, awkwardly.
“what have you two been doing all day?” john b asks.
kiara walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer and when she turned around, she noticed the marks on jj’s back. she paused in her steps.
“jj, what’s with all the scratches on your ba-“ and then she realized. her face contorted in disgust. “ewwww, are you guys fucking serious?”
your face grows hot with embarrassment and you wanted to dig a whole to die in, but john b seems barely faced as he walked past you, saying something near you.
“at least you made that boy’s dreams come true.”

#jj maybank#outer banks#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#obx#jj obx#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine#obx cast#obx fic#obx4#smut#netflix#television#jj x reader#jj x you#jj x y/n#jj maybank concept
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wait wait because imagine being a normal OF creator or a cam girl, just a small name nobody who does it for the sole purpose of getting through college. you keep your face out of everything, nothing in the background of any video of yours is personal, like once you get your degree this entire account is getting deleted and it'll be a thing of the past. (not that you're ashamed or anything. we respect sex workers of all kinds here)
and you plan on doing a different kind of video: one of you fucking yourself with a new, much bigger toy. usually you keep to the rabbits and bullets but following your friends advice, you fucking yourself on a dildo wouldn't be terrible.
plus you need it, sweetheart. when was the last time you even had a date?
bitch. (affectionately)
and as soon as you walk into your usual sex store, you double take. there is no, NO, way that is pornstar!ghost's dick you've just spotted as a dildo.
he's been your favorite pornstar long before you even started this side hustle. who in their right mind can resist that beast of a man with the mask and the tattoos and the heaving thing that's between his legs--
you take it home immediately.
it's almost sad how stupid you fuck yourself on it, cunt split open and dripping onto the floorboard for the internet to see but in that moment, you don't give a fuck.
you don't remember how many times you come that night nor how many viewers you had watching your puffy lips swallow "ghost's" cock whole, but come morning, you notice your bank account and it is padded.
PADDED.
one particular tipper was incredibly generous and they even left a message.
i'd love to see you do that on the real thing.
yeah, me too.
(whoever that is becomes a loyal follower who tips regularly.)
*screaming at the thought of simon getting himself off at your video. hasn't come that hard in months and that says a lot since he's yknow, a pornstar.*
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f reader
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
#writing#creative writing#writer problems#writing advice#writing community#writing a book#writing problems#novel writing#on writing#writing tips#writing help#writers on tumblr#writers block#female writers#writers of tumblr#writers blog#adhd writer
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safe. | spencer reid.
You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.
my masterlist!
cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.
wc: 6.2k
a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3
now playing... Fare Well by Hozier
This was really starting to piss you off.
You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.
Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.
Because you swore this baby had it out for you.
You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore.
You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.
“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.
“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”
“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.
Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.
“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly.
Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.
“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”
Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.
“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.
“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”
Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”
“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”
“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.
“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were.
“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”
You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.
“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.
“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman.
“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.
“...How far along are you?”
“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.
“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.
You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”
“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom.
You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.
You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.
You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.
“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.
“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.
“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile.
“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.
“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”
“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”
“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand.
You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour.
Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.
“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.
The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.
“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos.
“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”
“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.
“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.
Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”
“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.
“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied.
“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around.
You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team.
“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”
“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh.
“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.
“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone.
“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat.
Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”
Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”
Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”
“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.
You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.
“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.
“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.
“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”
“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”
“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth.
“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”
“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.
“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.
“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”
“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”
You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”
“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again.
“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”
“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”
“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.
You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”
Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”
You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.
The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house.
You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.
You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–
“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.
“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”
You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”
“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.
Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”
Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”
“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.
“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”
“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”
“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”
“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.
You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”
He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”
“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.
“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.
“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.
“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”
“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.
“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard.
“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”
“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.
“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.
“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”
“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”
“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”
“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.
“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.
You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”
“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”
Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”
“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house.
Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”
“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car.
Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child.
You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this.
“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”
You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”
“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.
“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that.
Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.
“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.
“Yes?”
“Is your son Peter here?”
“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.
“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.
“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.
It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.
You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers.
“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.
“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.
“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.
“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him.
“It was an accident,” you replied softly.
“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.
“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”
“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.
You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.
“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”
David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”
“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.
“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.
“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.
“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator.
“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”
“We’re going to get an ambulance–”
“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned.
Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”
Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.
Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.
Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.
“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”
“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”
“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.
“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.
“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression.
Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.
Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”
Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.”
Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.
Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.
You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.
A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.
“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway.
You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”
Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”
“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”
“I know,” you sighed.
“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”
“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly.
“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.
Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.
“I’m sorry–”
“You don’t need to–”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.
“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile.
“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.
“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”
“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”
“Happy?”
“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”
Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.
You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.
“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.
“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.
“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.
“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.
“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.
He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”
“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”
“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”
a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!
#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#x reader#spencer reid fluff#cm spencer#dr reid#spencer reid x pregnant!reader#pregnant reader#female reader#spencer reid x fem reader#penelope garcia#criminal minds dr reid#cm x reader#derek morgan#david rossi#aaron hotchner#jennifer jareau#jj#emily prentiss
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Like You Mean It | H.S
summary: you're tired of only ever meeting trash men, but your best friend and roommate harry shows you that there are still good guys out there, and what it really means to be a giver.
word count: 5.3k
reading time: 22 min
content warning ⚠️: housemate/bff!harry au, nonfamous!harry, friends to lovers, shitty men (not harry), smut, fluff, fingering, penetration (p in v), very light D/s dynamics (if you squint), softdom!harry, dirty talk, nicknames (baby, babe), very light degradation/humiliation kink (if you squint)
a/n: i saw a text post that said “girl don’t text that man. make yourself cum and forget about him.”(solid advice lol) and then this happened. also not to be an astrology girlie but he’s an aquarius with libra placements….this man is the perfect fwb.
“Harry, can I get a man's perspective on something?” you ask, turning to Harry next to you on the couch. You had begged Harry out of his room for a movie night as a ruse, but your nose had been buried deep in your phone the whole night. Re-reading and overanalyzing old text messages between you and the object of your anxiety.
You don’t often go to Harry for help with men, but his advice on other areas of your life is always sound, and you respect his opinion.
“If you’re asking me for help, he’s not worth your time.” He sighs, not looking away from the movie, hugging a pillow to his chest.
“I’m serious, I need your help.” you whine, tugging on his sleeve. He turns and looks at your dramatic pout, “Please.”
“Alright, I’ll bite.” He huffs. “What is it?”
“As a man, do you prefer texting or like a call? Or maybe FaceTime?”
Harry barks out a laugh at the ridiculous question, before looking over at you, and realizing your dead serious. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, tossing his head back against the couch. “I mean I’m more of a talker, and I like seeing who I’m talking to, so I prefer FaceTime. But I guess it depends on the girl and how long I’ve been talking to them. What our situation is, and stuff. Which one of your boy toys are we talking about?” he asks.
“Cameron.” you grimace.
Cameron is admittedly your least favorite of the boys on your roster, but your most tenured member. And the one Harry hates most. In the beginning you thought it could be something real. He was sweet and did a decent job at wooing you. That is until - in Harry’s eyes - he coerced you into a friends with benefits arrangement. Harry could tell that you liked him, and to see him treat you as terribly as he did, got Harry’s blood boiling. You deserved better, that much you both could understand. What Harry couldn't understand however was why you would even consider speaking to him again after the last time you were in contact.
Instead of saying what he truly thought, or giving you a hard time, he just pinched the space between his brow with an exasperated sigh.
“I know, I know,” you grumble.
“How long has it been since you’ve heard from him?”
“A while. But he reached out recently and - ”
“I thought you were done with him.” he deadpans, eyes glued to yours.
“I was, but we got coffee last week and he apologized.”
“Coffee?” Harry groans in disgust at the low effort. He pauses the movie, and turns to you, “Don’t text him. Don’t call him. Go back in there,” he says pointing down the hallway towards your room. “Make yourself come, and forget about him. For your sake and mine.”
“Harry!” you laugh, hitting him with a throw pillow.
“You think I’m joking, but I’m serious.” he concedes with a chuckle, “You don’t even like him.”
“I like him enough.”
“He’s a terrible fuck.”
“He…gets the job done.” you defend voice cracking.
“Everytime he leaves, there's suddenly a consistent buzz coming from your bedroom.” He scoffs. You go to defend yourself with heat rising to your face. You stammer a bit but not quite getting words out before he continues, “I’m a grown man, I know what a vibrator sounds like.” He smirks, and you giggle covering your face.
“Jesus.” you laugh, “Look, I’ve tried your way already…and it’s not doing the trick.” you pout, “So tell me, how pathetic would I be if I were to reach out to him.”
“I don’t think you’d be pathetic, love.” he soothes
“Then why are you so against me texting him?”
Because you deserve better! Why can’t you see that? He thinks, These guys don’t deserve you. If I were them I’d -
“Harry?” you ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. It’s in the glow of the television, and the small light on the side table that Harry is able to admire your adorable pout and curious eyes. He’s always had a little crush on you throughout the entirety of your friendship. One he knew you could feel and was reciprocated. There were a few drunken confessions of your attraction for one another that were joked about the following morning. Then there was the holiday kiss . One New Year for ‘good luck’. But there was also a promise. A pinky promise, to never risk the friendship you had. To keep things platonic. It was a promise that was becoming more and more difficult for both of you to keep.
When you two agreed to move in under the same roof for economic reasons, you knew it would be an adjustment, with both of you having been living on your own for years. But you were excited. Living alone could get lonely and overwhelming. So having your best friend of years, under the same roof and splitting responsibilities felt like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders.
But being in such close proximity meant that it was becoming harder to keep your promise. Especially when things just felt so domestic with the two of you. Cooking dinner together, movie nights, cuddling together on the couch. It was hard for both of you not to let your minds wander to a reality where you were more than just friends.
But you were friends, and as long as that boundary was there, there was nothing stopping either of you from being young, wild and free. So there were parties, and one night stands, and situationships. All in an attempt to distract you both from the truth. Because no matter how pretty the girls were that Harry brought home, no matter how sweet and kind they were. The only face he saw when they were splayed out in his bed…was your.
And after a very awkward Sunday morning breakfast with one of your one night stands meeting Harry, you stopped bringing guys home all together. Opting for spending weekends away. A change Harry didn’t like, and lectured you over. “It’s not safe. You don’t know these guys. At least if you bring them here, I’m here if you need me.” he’d argued. All that did was keep you from seeing anyone for a while. Which is how you ended up even considering talking to Camreon again.
“Look” Harry finally says, turning his body towards you, “if you’re that sexually frustrated I’ll… help you out.”
You tilt your head, letting out a nervous giggle, waiting for his real response. But it never comes, he just…smirks at you.
“Oh,” you whisper, heart beating against your ribs. “You’re serious.” Harry nods, biting his lip. The offer was…promising, and the way Harry looked at you was intriguing. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies. That the last month or so things haven’t felt different between you two, something less than romantic, but certainly more than platonic. It was messing with your head for sure. But you were friends. Regardless of how fit you thought he was, you didn’t have the right to blow up your over decade long friendship just because you were horny. You clear your throat blinking up at him, shaking your head,“Thanks for the offer, Har but -”
“Yeah no…you’re right. It’s - dumb idea.” He stammers, “I do think you just need to let off some steam, and then you’ll forget about him.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
He sees you deflate a bit at his words, and he realizes you didn’t expect him to give up so easily. So he tries again a little more directly “And not to be that guy but I’ve been told I’m pretty talented, and if making you come keeps you from making a repeated mistake then I’ll take one for the team.”
“Gee, thanks.” you scoff.
“I just mean. You’re my friend, and I’m trying to be a helping hand.” he says sweetly before the smirk returns, “And tongue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes. “And on a serious note, you’re too special of a woman to have to deal with mediocre sex from a guy that clearly - and I’m sorry to say - couldn’t give two shits about your Love. If you need to…get your rocks off, why not with someone you trust? With someone that actually cares about you?” Harry says sweetly.
“Really?” you ask, and he nods, “And if we cross this line, it won't ruin our friendship.”
“Cross my heart.” He says drawing an ‘x’ over his chest.
“What about Taylor?” you ask, thinking of the pretty blonde that you’ve caught making breakfast in your kitchen a few times. You're trying to give him an out. But he doesn’t take it.
“Out of the picture.” he smiles, “Has been for a while.” He admits, and before you get a chance to offer your condolences, he asks “So what do you say?”
“Okay.”
“Alright.” he smirks, “Come here.” He says softly, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You scoot closer to him on the couch, your knees touching his thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat as his other hand rests on your cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb.
He leans in slowly, his breath fanning across your face, his lips inches away from yours. His emerald eyes dart from yours down to your lips, back to your eyes.
“You’re sure?” he asks. You nod your head slowly, eyes glued to his lips as he speaks. You watch as they curve up into a seductive smirk, “Words, baby. Want to hear you say it.” He coaches.
He wants to hear you say it because the truth is, he can’t believe this is finally happening. He gets why you both agreed to not cross this boundary for so long. For the sake of your amazing friendship. But being this close to you now, seeing the look in your eye, the want and anticipation. Feeling the way he lit up touching you. It all seemed so silly. Why deny yourselves the pleasure of giving in to such chemistry, when life was so short?
“I’m sure.” you whisper, “Are you?”
“Oh, I’m positive.” he purrs, before leaning forward finally bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on yours. Immediately, the kiss feels different than anything you’ve shared in the past. What starts off as a soft sweet pecks, familiarizes yourselves with one another, quickly evolves into a hurried frenzy. Tongues swirling, teeth clicking, and with Harry’s hand having come down to rest on your neck, thumb caressing your jugular possessively your head was spinning. You gasp into the kiss, trying to catch your breath but all you could do was breathe in more of Harry. It’s when he nipped at your bottom lip licking at the skin after, that you have a moment of clarity. Pulling away slowly you, run your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck making him look up at you.
“You okay?” he asks, worry etched into his features.
“If we’re going to do this,” you begin, “ I have one condition.”
“Okay.” he prompts
“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” you whisper, voice shakily.
“Planned on it, Love.” He smiles, bringing you back into the kiss, lifting you up onto his lap to straddle him. You drape your arms around his shoulders and lean forward bringing your lips back down to his. Any nerves you’d had earlier slip away with each swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and grind off your hips down onto his hardening cock. He moans into your mouth as you grind your hips into his, and you couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss.
He sounds so pretty, you thought.
He lets out another groan, as his hands roam up your thighs to your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you as close to him as he could. He pulls his lips away from yours in favor of kissing down your neck. His lips roam up and down trying to find your favorite spot, and when he does, you let out a lewd moan, pulling at his hair. He groans into your neck and continues sucking and nibbling. He licks a stirp up your neck, dragging your earlobe into his ear sucking at it. Before he pulls away looking at you with a proud grin on his face, watching you.
“Why’d you stop?” you pout, leaning your forehead against his.
“I’m not fucking you on the couch.” He chuckles and you giggle. “Your bedroom or mine?” he asks as he untucks your lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Wherever you’d feel most comfortable.”
You didn’t have to think for more than a moment before answering. “Is it okay if we go to yours?” you ask nervously. If you were going to get the Harry Styles special, you wanted the whole experience.
“Of course.” he smiles, giving you a quick peck, “Hold onto me.” he instructs and you hook your arms and legs around him as he stands up and makes his way down the short hallway to his bedroom. He leans in and kisses your cheek
It is a little strange, how natural it all feels. How your lips seemed to slot perfectly with his, how he grabs your ass so dominantly in his hands, how you instinctually nuzzle into his neck, sucking just below his ear like he did for you. It’s as if this whole thing, your dynamic, was sitting there all along, just waiting to come to the surface.
He kicks his bedroom door open, kicking it back closed once inside. Breathy swears falling from his lips as you suck on a spot just below his ear. He sets you down on your feet as you pull away from his neck, bringing your lips back to his. Your hands move from around his shoulders to the elastic of his sweats. You pull at the strings keeping the material around his hips. But Harry stops you, pulling away from the kiss, holding your wrists in his hands.
“Hey, hey.” he coos, tilting your head up to look at him. “This is about you. Remember?”
“Right.” you sigh, “Sorry.” It was a force of habit. Focusing on pleasing your partner, without much thought of your own pleasure.
“It’s okay.” he smiles softly, “Don’t worry about me. Just let me take care of you.” He lifts your hands to his lips kissing each of the back of your hands, “Okay?” you nod and he places a quick peck to your lips, “Get up on the bed, for me.” There was something in his voice, a tone you’ve never heard before nor could you pin down, but it already had your stomach doing somersaults.
You crawl your way up the bed, laying down amongst the mountain of pillows and it suddenly hits you what you’ve agreed to. Did you have some nerves about the possibility of ruining your longtime friendship? Of course. But the primary feeling was anticipation. You’ve heard Harry take many women to heaven in this very room, in this very bed through the thin walls of your apartment, dozens of times. And now as you lay in his sheets… It's your turn.
He watches from the foot of the bed as you settle into his bed, admiring the sight of you there. You're quick to remove your shirt, but you keep your bottoms and bra on. You watch as he strips himself of his band t-shirt, and sweats admiring his tattooed littered chest and arms. Your eyes follow the trail of hair from his navel to the growing tent in his boxer briefs. He notices you admiring, watching as his muscles contract as he moves up the bed to you, a smirk plastered to his lip.
“Eyes up here.” he jokes, and you snort out a chuckle, as he hovers above you with elbows on either side of your head. You bring your arms, sound his shoulders, pulling him down on you, enjoying the weight of him on top of you.
“Shut up.” you smile, kissing him. You try to lead the kiss, but eventually give in to Harry, allowing him to choose the pace, too distracted and consumed by the feelings of his hands roaming your body. As he teases your mouth open with his tongue, you nibble at his bottom lip wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. You both moan as the tip of his clothed cock catches onto your clothed pussy. Your pussy throbs at the sensation and you roll your hips up into his, begging for some friction. But Harry holds your hip in the softness of his mattress. He pulls away, caressing your cheek, running a thumb along your kiss bitten lips.
“Let me take my time. Want you to enjoy this. I’m going to give you what you need. I promise.”
You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, “Okay.” you sigh
“Just relax.” he leans down, kissing your lips, “Do you trust me?”
“Yeah - of course.”
“Good.” Harry smiles, his dimpled smile, before continuing your kiss, hungrily kissing your lips, down to your neck. Kissing and sucking trying to find your most sensitive spot. When he does, he nibbles and sucks, groaning into you as he feels you relax in his arms, with each swipe of his tongue on your neck. His hand reaches behind you, fiddling with the hooks of your bra. “Can I take this off?” he rasps.
“Mhmm, yeah.” you rush out, helping him shimmy your arms out of the annoying barrier. Before you get the chance to pull him back down to you chest to chest, Harry pauses, looking from your chest to your eyes.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous” he whispers, a hand cupping one of your breasts, pinching the pebbled skin of your nipple. He dips his head down, drawing the other nipple into his mouth sucking on the nub, before releasing it with a pop. You couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped your lips. It’s needy and breathy and if it were anyone else above you, you’d maybe be embarrassed with just how desperate you sound. But the way Harry is worshiping you, and moaning into your chest, you knew he was enjoying this just as much.
He works his way up from your breasts back to your neck, sucking and kissing anywhere his lips could reach. You wrap your hands around his shoulders pulling him in, for a deep kiss, until you feel his fingers tangle into the loose strings of your flimsy lounge shorts.
“What about these?” he asks against your lips. “Can I take ‘em off?”
“Please.” you gasp into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss the best you could, you lift your hips, as you help him get the shorts down your legs.
With nothing but the thin material of your underwear between you. You could really get a feel of Harry now as he grinded his hips into yours. He was thick, and just as hard as you were wet. After a few nudges of his cock against your pussy, Harry snakes a hand between the two of you, rubbing you through the thin cotton of your panties in small circles.
“Mmhm.” you moan, rolling your hips into his hand.
“This okay?” he huffs, leaning his forehead on yours.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling him back down to your face for a kiss. “More.”
Harry smirked at you teasingly, but obliged. Sliding your panties to the side, his thick warm fingers making contact with your clit.
“Oh, fuck.” you huff.
Harry usually likes to tease. He tells the girls in his bed to be patient, to be good girls and wait for the inevitable earth shattering pleasure he’s sure to spring on them. But you're not just some girl in his bed. You’re…you. And he’s never not given you whatever it is you wanted. Because as far as Harry is concerned, you deserve the world. And the truth is, even if you didn’t realize it, you have him wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.
“That feel okay?” Harry asks, rubbing you in tight circles. He dips his fingers further down your folds, collecting the wetness at your entrance to wet your clit. He rubs at your pussy, up and down, until you start bucking against his hand.
“Mmhm” you nod, “so good.” you whimper.
It’s beginning to become harder to focus. All you feel is Harry. His fingers, between your legs. His tongue massages yours. His breath fanning across your face, when he rests his forehead on yours. His hardening cock pressing into your thigh. His weight on top of you. He was completely consuming your senses.
His fingers dip down, teasing at your entrance drawing out a deep groan from you as your grip on his shoulders tighten.
“What’s got you so wet? Huh?” he smirks into the kiss, as he teases your entrance. Your cheeks warm to his teasing tone.
“You.” you whine, “Feels so good, Harry.”
“Yeah?” he smirks, “And this?” He coos, as he slowly, finally, slides a long finger inside. “This feel good, too?”
“Oh, god.” you whimper, arching your back into the mattress, gripping at his shoulders.
Harry kisses your check, pulling back admiring how sweet you looked as his finger worked you open, pumping in and out of you.
“Look at me.” he coos, curling his finger inside to that spongy spot inside of you. “Let me see you baby. Look at me.” He repeats, sweetly kissing your cheek. Slowly, and with all the focus you can muster, you peel your eyes open to look at Harry. “Good girl,” Harry praises, “you’re doing so good, Love.” Your breath hitches at his words as you feel your pussy tighten around his fingers. “You gonna come on my hand? Already?” He smirks.
His light teasing, mixed with the pet names, only has you barling closer to the edge. You're so, very close and the way you're looking up at Harry all blissed out has him ready to bust in his boxers.
“Har-”
He can sense the frustration. See how close you were, but not quite. He needed to see you come for him.
“What is it baby?” he coos, kissing your cheek.
“More. Harry,” you whine, “Please, please plea-” you whine, through a pout.
“Shhh….Okay. You can have,” Harry slowly inserts a second finger, while his thumb circled your clit, “anything you want.”
“Fuc-” Your moan gets cut off with a kiss, as Harry continues to work his fingers in and out of you.
“There you go. Better?”
“Ye- yes. Oh my god.” you whine.
Harry continues working his fingers in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit as you could feel your orgasm barrelling closer.
“Come on,” Harry encourages, “come on my hand. Come for me.” he pants, through a kiss, fingers curling, maintaining their pace inside of you.
“Shit!” you moan out, coming apart on his hand.
“There you go. Good girl.” he praises, kissing you anywhere his lips can reach. You whimper, a shiver shooting through your body as your orgasm shook through you. “Shhh, I got you. I got you.” he coos, slowing his fingers to a stop. He withdraws his fingers from your center, eyes remaining on yours as he sucked his fingers clean, moaning around the digits.
“You taste good.” he smirks, before leaning down, burying himself in your neck, sucking on the spot just below your ear. He pulls away, looking you in the eye admiring your fucked out state. He plants a kiss on each of your cheeks, and then kisses you deeply nipping at your lip.
“You did so good.” Harry huffs into your mouth. You rake your fingers through his hair, still reeling from your orgasm, trying to use Harry to bring yourself back down to earth. “You’re pretty when you come.” he smiles down at you, kissing your lips, “Do you need a minute?”
“No.” you mumble kissing his lips, “Just fuck me please.” Harry nods into the kiss, reaching into his nightstand for a condom. He’s quick to get rid of his bottoms and slip on the condom.
“Harry.” you plead, rolling your hips up into his, as he slid his cock up and down your slit. He taps the head of his cock on your clit twice.
“Shhh, relax. I got you.” He coos stroking your cheek with one hand as he runs his cock more deliberately up and down your slit with the other. Harry kisses the corners of your mouth, and then places a kiss to your lips. He looks at you, eyes aflame with lust. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face, as he slowly pushes inside. You gasp, grab his shoulders, dig your nails into his skin. Harry hisses, tucking his face into your neck as he slowly worked you open with his cock, little by little thrusting in and out until he was fully settled inside.
“Fuck, babe.” he sighs. He stays still for a moment, deep inside of you relishing in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.
“Oh my god.” you gasp as swears fall from Harry’s lips above you. You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly at his curls, drawing out more groans from him. “Move.” you whine, rutting your hips up into his. “Please, Harry.”
He slowly begins to grind his hips down into yours, pulling back only slightly before driving back in, allowing you to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.” He praises. He’s quick to find a decent pace, his arms bracketing your head, forehead leaned against yours as he pounded into you with deep strokes.
“Har- oh my god.” you moan, your pants of pleasure, fanning across Harry’s face, eyes screwed shut.
“Look at me.” he rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Please. Need to see you.” He moans. And he does. He needs it. You can hear it in his voice, and feel it in the way he caresses your hip. He must be closer to you. He needed to see you, all of you.
So you grant his wish, peeling your eyes open and looking at him. And your pussy clenches at the sight of him. You don’t remember why you’d close your eyes in the first place. He was beautiful, like this. All kiss bitten lips, and flushed cheeks, curls glued to his brow and lust filled eyes. You threaded your fingers in his curls, brushing his curls away from his eyes.
“You feel so good.” you gasp.
Harry smirks, twirling his hips, “So do you.” You pull at his curls, a loud moan rips from your throat, as a particularly hard thrusts hits your g-spot. Harry’s eyes flash with a new kind of focus, and lust as he hits it again.
“‘S that it? ‘S that your spot, babe?” he huffs. You nod frantically, eyes glued to his lust filled ones as he continued pumping into you. “I want you to come for me again. I want to feel you. Please,” he pleads, “Need it.”
“Oh god!” you cry out. The more he talked the closer you could feel yourself approaching your peak. “Harry -” you
“Breathe through it, Love.” He instructs, keeping his rhythmic pace. As he grinds his hips down into yours, he demonstrates a breath, taking a deep breath in and out. You follow suit, feeling the heat pool in the bit of your stomach warm, as your orgasm grows closer and closer.
“Harry - oh my god.” “I know, I know.” He gasps, “Let go, Baby.” And you do. Just like that, you coming around Harry’s cock, tightening around him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “There you go,” he coos, dropping a kiss to your forehead, before tucking himself back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “Good girl. Fuck baby.”
Harry’s thrusts become sloppy as he struggles to hold himself up above you, feeling his own climax quickly approaching. “I’m gonna come baby.” Harry pants.
“Please.” you whimper, holding his face in his hands. You bring your lips up to his, moaning into the kiss, “I want you to.”
“Fuck.” He huffs, and with a few more deep strokes, Harry comes apart above you.
He grinds his hips to a stop, burying himself into your neck, kissing your shoulder, as you run your nails up and down his back, trying to catch your breath.
You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the weight of him on top of you, and Harry enjoying your hand in his hair. Once he heard your breath slow, he slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead, and rolling off of you.
“I’ll be right back.” he smiles.
“Okay.” you whisper with a sweet smile.
Harry drags his boxer briefs up his legs, looking back at you with a smile before he’s out the door.
“Shit.” you giggle, looking up at the ceiling. You look over at the clock on his nightstand, and smirk. Nearly an hour and a half has passed. I really got the Harry Experience ™ you muse, to yourself.
Sitting up in bed, you scan the messy bedroom floor to find your clothes. Before you get a chase to put your bra back on, Harry is back with bottles of water, some snacks and a towel.
“What are you doing?” Harry asks, He sets down the two bottles of water, snacks on his nightstand.
“Getting dressed.”
“What for?” he pouts, crawling into his bed, lifting his sheets for you to follow, “Come back here.” you allow him to pull you back into his side, resting your head on his chest.
“I don’t want to overextend my stay.” you whisper
“You’re not. Let me hold you for a bit. Not done taking care of you.”
He kisses the crown of your head, and it feels almost too intimate, but still you relax in his arms, letting out a deep breath, allowing the gentle motion of his hand stroking your back to calm you.
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Yeah.”
“Promise me that we’ll still be friends.”
Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. A little too long for your liking before he finally speaks.
“I don’t think I can do that.” Harry says, and there's a slight panic at his words until you look up at him and see he’s smirking down at you.
“I got you pussy whipped that quick, Styles?” you joke, poking at his side, and he laughs.
“Maybe.” he smirks, before looking at you earnestly, “Or maybe hearing you moan my name made me realize it’s something I've wanted for a long time.”
“Oh.” you sigh.
“Or maybe I’m just selfish, and I don’t like the idea of anyone else seeing you that way. Especially if they aren’t going to treat you right.”
“And you want to treat me right?” you smile
“I do.” He says firmly, “Give me a chance. Just one date. A real one. Ideally one where we stay clothed, and vertical.” he smirks. “And if you don’t want to pursue anything, then…I’m happy to stay friends. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t try.”
You look at him, trying to find a hint of dishonesty, but you couldn’t find it.
“Okay, Styles. One date.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” you smile, snuggling back into his chest.
Everything between you two has changed. That’s for sure. But maybe it’s for the better. And maybe this is just the beginning.
a/n: imagine harry as your fwb *deep sigh*
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Innocence
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} It is your wedding night and your new husband has a reputation for being ruthless, violent and cruel. You know nothing about sex, but that doesn't stop him from making you his wife in every sense of the word.
3.9k words - Warnings: smut, angst, virgin!reader, Daemon teaching sex, oral sex, breeding kink, size kink, soft dom!daemon... & lots of wine
♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
{Daemon Targaryen Tag-List}
@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer
@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp
You stood in front of the fire, your arms wrapped around your body as you stared into the flames, willing yourself to stop crying. The wedding had been perfect, but now you were left to do your wifely duty and consummate your marriage and the very thought made you shudder.
You knew nothing of men, of their desires and the marriage bed, and all you had heard about Daemon, your husband, was that he was rough and wild in all things, and this included the bedroom.
Your stomach rolled with nausea at the very thought. You had heard the horror stories of virgins, the blood and the pain, the tears. You were smaller in stature than most and your mother had warned you that the pain would be intense and unbearable.
When your lord father had arranged the marriage with the Prince you were both shocked and frightened. He was such an imposing figure at court, tall and broad, with strong arms and a sharp jawline. His eyes were violet and they held a darkness in them that made you feel as if he could read all your thoughts and secrets.
The wedding and the feast afterwards felt like a blur and all you could think about was getting away from everyone and the impending dread of the marriage bed. You had watched him across the room, laughing and joking with his brother, and then with the ladies who were vying for his attention. He had a certain swagger and cockiness about him that had you feeling even more on edge.
A quiet knock on the door of the bedchamber pulled you from your thoughts and you jumped, wiping your eyes and sniffing. You were sure you looked a sight and the thought only made you cry harder.
"Come in," you whispered, keeping your back to the door, and when the door creaked open you heard the many footsteps of your new handmaidens.
"Let's get you undressed my lady," one said softly, and she began to remove the pins from your hair, while the others worked on removing the ornate dress.
They were all new to you, a gift from your new husband to help you settle in, and you had only just met them this evening before the wedding. Your old handmaidens had been sent home and you missed them terribly, needing their advice now more than ever.
The new handmaids continued in silence, and the longer you were left alone in your head the more panicked you became. Once your dress had been removed and you were in just your shift, you took the goblet of wine one of the girls handed you, drinking down half the contents, hoping it would calm your nerves.
The girls continued their tasks, removing your jewelry, the remaining pins from your hair. Leaving you in just a thin satin shift that barely covered your body.
You stood awkwardly, fiddling with the fabric in your fingers, looking down at the ground and biting your lip.
"Shall we remove the shift, my lady?" One of the girls asked, and you felt your stomach drop, bile rising in your throat. You could feel their eyes on you, assessing the situation.
"No," you choked out, and the girl frowned at you. "I-I would prefer to keep it on."
The girls shared a knowing look and gathered your wedding gown, curtsying to you and bidding you goodnight. When the door closed, you let out a heavy sigh and walked back towards the fireplace, finishing off your wine, and staring once again into the flames.
It felt like hours had passed, and the silence of the room was deafening. The sound of your breathing seemed louder than ever, and you could hear your own heartbeat, the blood rushing through your ears.
You kept drinking the wine, hoping it would calm your nerves, and before long you had consumed two full goblets. Your body was beginning to feel warm and the edges of the room had begun to blur.
You were feeling light headed, and a little dizzy, and when the door finally opened and your husband entered, the room spun a little. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist.
He hummed as his mouth pressed kisses to your neck, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, and you leaned into him, his body radiating heat.
"Why aren't you undressed?" he whispered against your neck, he reached up and took the goblet out of your hand, taking a long sip and then placing it back on the mantelpiece.
"I-" you faltered, your cheeks burning, and he turned you around to face him. His large hands were resting on your waist and he looked at you with curiosity.
He guided you over to the nearby chaise and pushed you down onto it, and when he sat down beside you he began pouring a fresh goblet of wine.
He handed you the glass and watched you take a long sip, and you could see a hint of a smirk on his lips. He knew you were nervous.
"Tell me why," he said quietly, taking a sip from his own glass and you shrugged.
"I don't wish to take the shift off," you admitted, and he chuckled, taking the goblet from your hands and placing it on the table beside him.
"I know you did not wish for this marriage, but it is the way of things," he said, his voice was surprisingly soft, "but if it's any comfort, I do not intend to mistreat you."
You nodded, perhaps it was the wine or the warmth of his body, but the tension in your shoulders was easing a little.
"May I ask you something?" you whispered, and he raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking.
"I suppose," he said with a small smirk.
"What's it like?"
"What's what like?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"The marriage bed," you said quickly, your cheeks burning and you averted your eyes.
Daemon cleared his throat, a hint of a smile on his face. He knew you were untouched, but he had not expected this kind of innocence.
"The marriage bed can be enjoyable, especially if both people are willing and wanting," he explained, and you swallowed hard, nodding.
"And if they aren't?"
Daemon's gaze softened and he sighed, looking into the fire. He was no monster. He knew the reputation he had at court, and although a lot of it was well earned, he was not going to be cruel.
"Then it's not fun for either of us," he said softly, and your gaze flickered up to meet his. He looked almost sympathetic, his eyes not holding their usual mischief.
You bit your lip and shifted closer to him, your body seeking out the warmth he provided. He smiled and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest, his hand stroking up and down your arm.
"You are now under my protection, my little wife," he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "And I shall look after you."
You sighed and snuggled further into him, feeling safer than you had all day. The wine was helping to dull the edge of fear, and his touch was warm and gentle.
The conversation turned to other things, you both loved music and riding, and Daemon had a wicked sense of humor that had you laughing and blushing. You felt comfortable for the first time since you had met him.
You didn't notice his wandering hands, the way they stroked your thighs, your hips. You didn't notice how his lips grazed your neck, leaving soft kisses and nips. You were too focused on his words, the rumble of his chest.
"My little wife," he breathed against your ear, his hands slipping under the hem of your shift, and you suddenly stood up, moving away from him and wrapping your arms around yourself.
Daemon sighed, standing up and walking towards you. He cupped your face in his large hands, stroking his thumb along your cheek.
He reached for the straps of your shift, and began pulling them down your arms. Your hands came up automatically and tried to push them back up, and Daemon tutted, taking hold of your wrists and placing your palms on his chest.
"Stop it," he commanded, and the tone of his voice had you immediately obeying him. His hands resumed their task, pulling the straps down, letting the silky fabric pool around your feet.
You looked up at him with watery eyes, your cheeks flushed, and your arms covering your breasts. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing over your plump lips.
"Do not hide from me," he whispered, and your eyes dropped to the floor, a few tears escaping and running down your cheeks.
Daemon gently tilted your chin upwards and wiped away your tears. "Undress me," he commanded, and you looked up at him nervously, but nodded, moving your hands to begin untying the laces of his tunic.
He watched you carefully, his hands stroking your sides and hips, his eyes burning a trail across your body. When the last lace was untied, you slid the fabric off his broad shoulders, taking in the sight of him, the expanse of pale skin.
You had never seen a naked man, and as your eyes trailed over his body, you couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks.
He was beautiful, the muscles stretched across his chest and stomach, and his arms were strong and defined. There was a dusting of hair on his chest, and a large scar across his shoulder and neck that made you reach out and trace your fingertips over the marred flesh.
He watched your face, amused by the look of innocence, enjoying how you explored his body with just a gentle touch.
"Do I meet your approval?" he smirked and you dropped your hand, looking away and blushing.
His hands went to your waist, his thumbs stroking the underside of your breasts, and his eyes followed their movements. He watched your nipples pebble under his gaze, the blush spreading across your chest, and he groaned softly.
"I need you to tell me what you like and what you don't," he said quietly, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.
"I-I don't know," you replied, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders.
"Then we shall have to explore, hmm?" he grinned, and then his mouth was on yours, swallowing your gasp.
He was gentle, his lips pressing soft kisses against yours, he was smiling as you tried to mimic his movements.
You were unsure where to put your hands, so they remained clutching at his shoulders, and Daemon chuckled, breaking the kiss and looking down at you with amusement.
He gripped your waist and lifted you up easily, your legs wrapping around his hips automatically, and he carried you over to the bed.
He laid you down and covered your body with his, kissing you slowly and deeply. Your hands were now roaming across his back, exploring the expanse of muscle.
When his lips left yours, trailing kisses down your neck, you were breathing heavily, your body on fire, a strange pressure building between your legs.
His lips continued their journey south, kissing the swell of your breasts, and he cupped them in his large hands, pushing them together and pressing soft kisses against your flesh.
He watched you as he ran his tongue across your nipple, and the sound you made had him groaning, his mouth sucking the peak into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the bud.
"Daemon," you gasped, the sensations were too much, and his name on your lips had him smirking against your skin.
He released the nipple with a pop, blowing cold air over the wet peak, watching the goosebumps rise, and the nipple pucker.
"It seems you like this," he chuckled, and he began to move to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.
You were panting, the pressure between your legs increasing, you rubbed your thighs together, trying to alleviate the feeling.
Daemon's eyes flicked down, noticing the movement, and he grinned, his hands gripping your hips, stilling your movements.
His kisses continued their journey south, his tongue trailing a line between your breasts and down your stomach. When he was about to reach the apex of your thighs, you shut your legs and grabbing his hair, trying to pull him away.
"What are you doing?" you asked, panicked, and he looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.
You had a basic understanding on how a man and woman make a child, but this act was something you had never heard of.
"I'm going to kiss you here," he murmured, his lips trailing soft kisses along your lower stomach, and your head fell back against the pillow, your grip loosening on his hair.
"I...I don't understand," you whispered, and he chuckled, biting and sucking on the delicate skin.
"You'll see," he promised, and his hands moved under your thighs, pushing them up and spreading them open, and you blushed, embarrassed and ashamed at how exposed you were. No one had ever seen you like this before, and your whole body was on fire.
You gasped when his mouth made contact with the sensitive flesh between your legs, his tongue flicking out and tasting the wetness. Your hands shot to his hair again, but instead of pulling him away, you pushed his face closer, moaning when you felt him licking a stripe up your slit.
His eyes were dark and hooded, and he watched your every reaction, enjoying how sensitive you were, how innocent. You were squirming and panting in his arms, your back arching off the bed when his tongue circled the small nub, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
He held you still, keeping your thighs open, as his mouth feasted on you. You were writhing and gasping his name, and he was moaning against your skin, loving the taste of you.
You felt something building, something deep in the pit of your stomach, it was frightening and exhilarating, and you didn't know what was happening.
Your legs kicked, your hips bucking and you were moaning, the pressure increasing, and you were clawing at his head, his biceps, anywhere you could reach.
His large hands spread you open, his tongue circling your opening, pushing in slightly, and it was enough to have the coil inside you snapping, and you let out a loud moan, the waves of pleasure washing over you.
Your thighs were shaking and Daemon released his grip, letting you close them as you caught your breath.
You had never felt anything like that before, and when you finally opened your eyes, you were met with his violet ones, sparkling with mirth and a hint of smugness.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" he smirked, and he was kissing you again, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady mix of sweetness and salt.
You kissed him back eagerly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, and he chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip.
His kisses were more urgent, and when his lips began to wander again, you tugged at his shoulders, trying to get him to stop.
"Why do you still fear me?" he asked, his forehead resting against yours, and you shrugged, unable to explain why.
"I... I don't know," you admitted, and he grinned, his hand going between your legs, his finger running a circle around the small bud.
You gasped and jerked your hips, you were more sensitive than before, and his touch was making you tremble.
He smiled at your reaction, continuing his slow, gentle circles, "This is the source of all your pleasure," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. "As well as here..."
His fingers moved lower, tracing the entrance to your sex, and you whined as he slipped a finger inside you. Your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and he began to move his finger, slowly sliding it in and out.
"It may hurt a little," he admitted, watching your face carefully, and you swallowed hard, trying to adjust to the feeling. "But it will get better, and then the pain will fade."
You nodded, his words reassuring, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. He continued his gentle thrusts, watching your face closely, and when you were beginning to relax, he slid another finger inside.
"My sweet little wife," he purred against your ear, his mouth pressing kisses against your neck.
His thumb began rubbing slow circles on the nub, and you gasped, the feelings returning. You felt the coil beginning to tighten again, and your walls clenched around his fingers.
He smiled at how responsive you were becoming, how you were grinding against his hand, trying to seek out more. So shy and innocent, yet so desperate for him.
His hand withdrew and you whined, opening your eyes and glaring at him, but he just smirked, bringing his hand up to his mouth, and licking his fingers clean. You turned a deep shade of red, looking away, and he laughed.
He sat up, his fingers going to the laces of his breeches, and you watched, biting your lip. You had felt his hard length against you, but seeing it was a whole different experience.
Your eyes were wide and fearful, and Daemon couldn't deny that he liked how you looked at him. It was a mixture of awe, desire, and a little bit of terror. He knew how big he was, and the first time with him would not be easy.
"We'll take it slow," he promised, his fingers caressing your cheek, and you nodded, the trust in your eyes making his heart ache, he would try his best not to betray it.
He pushed his breeches down his legs, and kicked them off, settling his body between your spread legs, his large cock pressing against your wet sex.
You were trembling, and Daemon leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.
"Relax, byka ābrazȳrys {sweet wife}," he whispered against your lips, and you nodded, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, your nails digging into his arms.
Daemon gripped the base of his cock, his other hand hooking your leg around his hip, and then he was guiding himself inside you.
You felt a sharp, burning pain, and you cried out, clinging to him. He kissed your cheek and whispered sweet nothings in your ear, continuing his gentle thrusts.
He was barely halfway inside and you were gasping, the pain too much. You tried to push him away, but he shushed you, his hips moving in a slow and steady rhythm.
His mouth capturing yours in a slow and deep kiss, a hand moving between you to stroke your little nub. You let out a soft moan and he smiled against your lips, his fingers stroking faster.
"That's it," he breathed, and he pushed forward, fully sheathing himself inside you, and you moaned, the pain fading as his fingers continued their movements.
He was still, his lips leaving yours and trailing kisses across your cheeks and neck. Your skin was pink, flushed, and you were panting, your hands still clinging to his arms.
He waited until your walls stopped clenching around him, and when he felt you relax, he started moving.
His movements were slow, careful, and his fingers never stopped rubbing slow circles. The pain faded, and as you grew accustomed to the sensation of being stretched, a new feeling began to build.
"There, not so bad, is it?" he murmured against your skin, and you shook your head, his thrusts getting harder, faster.
Your hands moved up to his shoulders, and his mouth captured yours in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans. He was moving with purpose, pressing himself against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars.
He broke the kiss, his eyes boring into yours, and you blushed, unused to having someone look at you like that. His gaze was full of lust and desire, and you couldn't look away, even if you wanted to. You were moaning his name, begging for him to go faster, harder, and he grinned, happy that you were enjoying it.
"Pleasure, you see, is a tool," he said, his voice low and husky, his eyes flashing dangerously. "It can be used to break or bind, and I am going to bind you to me, my dōna byka ābrazȳrys {sweet little wife}."
His thrusts were punishing, and you were gasping, clinging to him for dear life. His mouth was hot and wet against your skin, leaving love bites wherever he could reach.
Your hands moved to his hair, tugging hard, and he groaned. You smiled at his response, tugging a little harder, and his hips jerked, and he chuckled at your aggression.
"You're a fast learner," he groaned, and you couldn't help but giggle, and he growled, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.
"Oh, you'll pay for that," he muttered against your lips, and you were smiling, your giggles turning to moans.
He sat up a little, pinning you down with one hand splayed across your chest, his hips rolling slowly. His eyes were raking over your body, admiring how beautiful you were, flushed and sweaty.
You were watching him too, his muscles rippling as he moved, the way his chest heaved, his face flushed, and the way his cock glistened as it slid in and out of you.
You reached a hand down, trailing it down his abs, and he smiled at the gesture. You were getting bolder, and he enjoyed it, enjoying how eager you were becoming.
He slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, and your eyes widened. He leaned down, pressing his body against yours, and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
You could feel something building again, that exquisite coiling sensation, and you were gasping, your walls fluttering around him. He was moaning, his breath hot against your skin, his thrusts becoming erratic.
You felt the coil snap, your body shaking and trembling, the pleasure washing over you, and your nails were digging into his back.
He groaned, burying his face in your neck, his hands clutching at your body. Your tight walls were squeezing him, and he couldn't hold back anymore, spilling his seed deep inside you.
You felt his warm release, and it felt strange, but not unpleasant, and you were both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath.
He kissed you again, gently and sweetly, and you responded, sighing softly. When he pulled away, he was smiling, and he rolled off of you, lying on his back beside you.
You were blushing, suddenly feeling shy, and he laughed, reaching out and pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.
"Was that so bad?" he asked, and you giggled, hiding your face in his chest.
"No, not at all," you mumbled, and he grinned, placing a warm hand on your stomach.
"I wonder if we made a child tonight," he mused, his fingertips gently caressing the soft skin.
You placed your hand on his, the thought of creating a new life was both frightening and exciting, and you smiled up at him.
"I hope we have many," you murmured, and his eyes widened slightly, his smile genuine, and he squeezed you gently.
"We will have to try harder then," he smirked, and his hand trailed lower, making you squeal.
He pulled you on top of him, and you were both smiling and laughing, the world falling away as he kissed you again.
#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen#hotd#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen x y/n#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#hotd x reader#hotd fic#hotd imagine#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon x reader#daemon smut#hotd daemon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fic#daemon fanfic#daemon fic#hotd daemon targaryen
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Lessons
Length: +7k words
Genre: Smut
IVE Gaeul x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission, and thank you to @msafterhours for beta reading! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, head on over to my ko-fi page!)
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
“Ugh, this is so fucking annoying!” Gaeul groans, slamming her fist against the table, the clattering of silverware echoing throughout the apartment. Wonyoung, used to her sudden bursts of anger, doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I already told that old guy from SBS that I’m not interested, yet he keeps spamming my messages!”
“Why did you give him your number in the first place if you’re not interested?” Wonyoung inquires.
Gaeul’s cheeks turn a bright red, her gaze falling nervously to the side. “...You know why.”
“Because you’re horny?” Wonyoung posits, raising her brow.
The older girl’s face falls into her hands in misery, emitting a deep guttural groan that carries the weight of her dissatisfaction. “This is so unfair, how did you guys find boyfriends and I have to slog through all these gross older men and obnoxious boy group members?” Gaeul glances at her with a pout on her lips. “Am I ugly or something?”
Wonyoung sighs, gently holding her groupmate’s hand from across the table. “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re just… unlucky.” Gaeul faceplants into the table, her muffled whimpers eliciting sympathy from the younger girl. “Look, why don’t you just ask out our manager already? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Gaeul’s face shoots up, tomato red with panic. “W-what are you talking about!? That’s our manager, that’s w-weird!”
Wonyoung scoffs. “And you think touching yourself while moaning his name isn’t weird?”
“H-how did y-”
“These walls are paper thin, just because you play ocean noises in the background doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”
Gaeul sinks into her chair, covering her face in embarrassment. With a sigh, Wonyoung pulls up a website on her phone and slides it across the table. “Here, a bunch of my friends used this website when they were in your position and they all managed to find a boyfriend within a week.”
The older girl scans the phone, immediately grimacing at the shoddy nature of the website. Aside from an embedded video in the middle of the site and a measly drop down menu titled “Lessons”, it’s essentially barebones. All the text is in Comic Sans for some god awful reason, and whatever moron made this sorry excuse for a website decided to use bright orange over pink. It’s like wrapping a terrible gift in even uglier wrapping paper.
“Wonyoung, this is… grim,” she mutters.
Wonyoung shrugs. “The results speak for themselves.” She takes her phone back and walks towards her room at the end of the hallway. “You better watch those videos. You’re already ruining my beauty sleep, I won’t let you ruin beaches for me too,” she calls out, her bedroom door slamming behind her.
Gaeul leans her head against her palm, contemplating her options. She could ignore Wonyoung’s advice and continue to foolishly look around for dick until her standards drop so low that she ends up sleeping with — God forbid — some washed up 2nd gen idol, or she could learn a thing or two from that hideous website and ask out her hot manager, potentially making things awkward between them for the rest of her career.
She barely has to think about it before pulling out her phone, pulling up the website in mere seconds. With a deep breath, she presses play on the first video.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 1: HOW TO GET A MAN
Being the manager of one of the biggest girl groups in the world leaves you with little energy and even less free time. At first, it was fun. When IVE first debuted, they were nervous yet excited about finally achieving the dreams they’ve worked so hard for, and you wanted to help them out anyway you could, becoming a strong pillar that they can rely on.
However, after a couple years of idol experience under their belt combined with their very quick rise to stardom, the job that you once loved turned into a complete nightmare, which only worsened once the girls found partners. Just last week, you had to wrestle a camera away from a Dispatch worker after he took photos of Rei sucking off her boyfriend in the middle of a park—all of this at 3 fucking AM. To add salt to the wound, instead of being commended for preventing a potential PR disaster, you got chewed out by your supervisor for not managing them well enough. Sure, let’s ignore the million other times you’ve warned them about doing stupid things in public that they keep ignoring.
At least not all of them are a handful to deal with since Gaeul doesn’t have a boyfr-
*Ring Ring*
Speak of the devil. You answer your phone.
“Hey Gaeul, what’s up?”
“H-hi, um…” She clears her throat, her nervousness putting you on edge.
“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”
“N-no, it’s nothing like that! It’s just, uh… Are you busy tomorrow?”
You scan your desk, cluttered with a messy pile of paperwork. Even at your most productive, it’ll take you the entire week to get through everything alongside the plethora of meetings you’ll have to attend. “Yeah, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow, why?”
“Oh, um… How about Saturday?”
“Gaeul, what is this about?”
“Just…!” She sighs audibly in frustration. “Yes or no?”
Rolling your eyes, you take a quick glance at your calendar. Aside from a note that says “buy groceries”, it seems like your entire weekend is free. “Yes, I’m free on Saturday. What is this-”
“Great! I’ll text you an address. Be there at 5pm sharp. Bye!”
“Wai-”
Gaeul hangs up before you can utter another word, leaving you to wonder what all of this is about and why she sounded so nervous over the phone. Your mind runs through all the potential scenarios this could be. As far as you know, there aren’t any events Ive are performing at and filming for their YouTube show doesn’t start until next week. Could this be a prank the girls are pulling on you?
Even as you look up the address she sent you, all you're left with is more questions than answers.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 2: HOW TO ACT PROPER ON A DATE
Saturday rolls around after another particularly difficult week of running around protecting IVE’s image. If you’re being honest, you fully expected to pass away from stress alone after Yujin and Liz nearly got caught having a foursome in someone’s pool by Dispatch yet again. At the very least, this photographer didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as the last one.
As you travel to the far side of the city and stroll up to the fancy restaurant Gaeul all but forced you to come to, you silently pray that this isn’t some weird way of her announcing her new relationship to you. You enter the restaurant, almost immediately receiving a glare of disdain from the host as he scans your casual outfit of a T-shirt and jeans, unbefitting of the atmosphere.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a strict dress code and we unfortunately cannot seat you with your current outfit,” he says, flashing a condescending smile.
“Actually, sorry if this is weird, but is a woman named Gaeul here?” you ask, ignoring his poor attitude.
He looks down at his podium, scanning through some papers before his expression suddenly shifts into something more genial. “Ah, of course! Right this way, sir.” He leads you down a side hallway that’s hidden away from the main seating area, and brings you to one of many doors. “Ms. Gaeul is right in this room, sir.”
You open the door, your jaw hitting the floor in awe as you scan the intricate decorations that adorn the room. A golden chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating everything in a warm glow, while beautifully realistic paintings of fruit bowls and flower vases hang on the walls. In the center of the room sits a table, draped with a red silk cloth and topped with lit candles that set a sort of romantic mood. Gaeul sits on one end, sporting a black strapless dress that shows off her milky skin and thin figure.
“Hi!” She says, walking to you with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Hey— o-oh.” You flinch in surprise as she pulls you into a warm embrace, instinctually slotting your arm around her delicate waist. It’s the first hug you’ve shared with one of the members, and your discomfort quickly fades as you sink into her.
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” she says. You sit across from her, your eyes darting around the room, overwhelmed by the ambience. “You like the view?”
“Yeah, this place is pretty cool, but why did you want me to come here?”
“To surprise you of course!”
Just then, a procession of servers files through the door, carrying silver platters full of food. With each dish they place, you salivate more and more, your stomach rumbling intensely. By the time the last dish is set, the entire table is filled with various dishes of different smells, colors, and textures, none of it discernible but all of it delicious. The final cherry on top is the bottle of expensive wine that the server pours into your glass. This is it. This is Heaven.
“Since you work so hard for us, I thought it would be fitting to treat you to a nice meal,” Gaeul explains, smiling at you. “You deserve it.
“W-wow, this is just… thank you so much, Gaeul,” You say, still scanning the food in front of you. “I wish you would’ve told me to wear something nicer though. That guy at the front side-eyed me the second I walked in.”
“It’s okay, I think you look sexy in anything you wear,” she giggles, cutting her laughter short with a bite of her lip. For a split second, you swear your heart skips a beat.
Blush grows on your cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliment. “O-oh, uh, thanks. You look, um, very nice too.”
“Just nice?” She pouts cutely. “I got all dressed up for you and that’s all you’re gonna say?”
The heat in your face deepens as you nervously avert your gaze. You compliment the girls all the time, why do you suddenly feel weird about it now? “You look… very pretty, Gaeul.”
She grins warmly, satisfied by your answer. “Thank you. Now eat up! It’s all for you.”
You spend the next few minutes in pure bliss trying out every single dish, each bite better than the last. Sweet, savory, bitter, earthy, flavor combinations you never even knew existed dance around on your taste buds; pair that with the rich taste of the wine and suddenly, you’re floating on cloud nine.
“How’s the food?” She asks. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Of course I am,” you say, grinning at her. “I’m eating delicious food and drinking expensive wine with a beautiful girl.”
“Oh?” Her brow raises with intrigue, a smirk playing on her glossy lips. “Beautiful? I thought you said I was just pretty?”
“I-I mean yeah, the entire world thinks you’re beautiful,” you stutter, trying to keep your inhibitions in check, a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.
“Okay, but what do you think?” Gaeul leans in like a predator backing up its prey into a corner, her light-hearted tone dropping to reveal something more sultry.
You gulp, beads of sweat forming on your head. “W-well, I think you’re a great performer and-”
“That’s not what I meant,” she states, staring intently at you. “Have you ever thought about me? Imagining what you would do to me if we were all alone with no one to bother us, just me and you?” She brings her spoon to her lips, giving it a slow, sensuous lick without ever breaking eye contact.
You shiver as her tongue dances across the silver, desperately wishing it was you instead of the damn spoon. You shouldn’t be having these impure thoughts—though you’d be lying if you said this is the first time you’ve looked at Gaeul this way. You’re her manager, Starship will toss you out in an instant if they suspect that you took the job just to get with the idols. But it’s so hard to think properly with the alcohol flowing through your system and the tightening in your pants.
Tell her no. Stop her advances immediately before things get out of hand. Yet, you don’t object as Gaeul takes your hand, leading you out of the restaurant. The words start to meld together like goo, all you can make out is an utterance of a “good time” and how you’ve been such a “good boy”. You say a lot of things to her, probably—it’s hard to talk with her tongue shoved in your mouth—but as the taxi takes you to the familiar route towards her apartment, the only clear thought running through your head is how impossible it is to tell this girl “no”.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 3: HOW TO PLEASURE A MAN
Gaeul tosses her phone on her bed, scoffing in disgust. After her conversation with Wonyoung last night, she binge watched the first two lessons, even jotting down notes to remember for later. As much as she would hate to admit it, the questionable looking website is an information goldmine for a desperate soul like hers, it’s a wonder how she hasn’t stumbled upon it before. However, her view of it immediately soured again after watching the third lesson.
“Act submissive? Let him do whatever he wants?” Gaeul questions, reiterating the points made in the video. “What kind of bullshit advice is this? If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I’m not trying to be their little fuck doll or whatever!”
She paces around her room, hands running through her hair over and over again as the thoughts bounce around her frustrated mind. What’s the point in doing all this work trying to get a boyfriend if it only amounts to his pleasure? What about her needs? Is she supposed to be happy being reduced to a glorified cum rag?
Fuck no. A sudden realization hits her like a bolt from the blue — She’s Gaeul from IVE. An icon in one of if not the most popular girl group in the world. Any man should feel lucky that she even gave them the time of day.
With a newfound determination, Gaeul picks up her phone, her finger hovering tentatively over the “Call” button on her manager’s contract. She’ll use what she learned in the first two videos for sure; she’s not dumb enough to completely disregard their teachings. But if—no, when things get to the bedroom, she’ll do things her own way.
______________________________________________________________
You and Gaeul stumble through the door of the dorm, lips, limbs, and fingers intertwined in a needy ball of lust. Don’t even bother making it to her room, half of your clothes are already off by the time you reach the living room. Palm her toned stomach, savor the taste of her lewd moans dancing off her tongue and onto yours, shiver as her nails graze against your skin. Do all the dirty things you’ve kept hidden in the back of your mind.
Gaeul breaks away, sitting back on the couch as she strips away the rest of her dress, leaving her in a matching set of black undergarments. She spreads her legs, inviting you to fill the space in between.
“Eat me out,” she commands, words unwavering even as the sheen of arousal coating her thighs tells you exactly how badly she needs this. You quickly oblige, practically diving face first into her sweet heat. Discard her soaked panties; to you, they’re just another obstacle keeping you from what you really want.
“Good boy~,” Gaeul moans as you attack her slit with your tongue. You alternate between long, slow licks to flicking your tongue furiously against her clit. She yanks at your hair, forcing you to take a whiff of her sex. Her scent is intoxicating. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, all you can think about is about pleasuring her gorgeous pussy.
“F-fuck yes, lick my pussy, you fucking perv!” she goads you on and you follow her every command like the dog that you are. Her slim thighs wrap around your head, forcing you deeper and deeper into her until it’s physically impossible for you to get any closer. Forget the alcohol, you’re getting drunker on the sweet nectar dripping from her hole.
Fuck her with your fingers as you lap at her clit with a hunger you’ve never felt before. Her guttural moans are like a siren song, drawing you into her. The way her face contorts with pleasure is so alluring. You thought she was attractive already, but fuck this is the kind of beauty that only you are lucky enough to see. No hounding fans, no Dispatch, just you and Gaeul.
She grabs your hair, pulling you away from her heat, much to your dismay. “Take your fucking cock out,” she commands before pushing you back onto the floor. You make quick work of your boxers, but before you can ask for a condom, Gaeul’s already climbing all over you, lining up your painfully erect cock with her slit.
“W-wait, Gaeul-”
She clasps her hand over your mouth, leering at you with a ravenous glare. “I’ve waited too long for this to use a damn condom. You’re just gonna have to pull out or I’m kicking your ass out into the streets, got it?”
You nod, both terrified and turned on by this new side of Gaeul. With her hand still covering your mouth, she slowly impales herself on your rod, her face silently contorting with each inch of you she takes. You move to grab her hips, but she swats your hand away.
“Absolutely fucking not, we’re doing this my way,” she growls at you. All you can do is submit as she fucks herself onto you at a selfishly slow pace like you’re nothing more than her personal dildo. Your hot breath flows through the miniscule gaps in between her fingers, not even giving you the luxury of a deep breath. You want to get angry, you want to show her who’s boss, but each time she slams her hips down onto you, it’s like she sucks away your will to fight little by little until you're completely left at her mercy.
“Fuck, this is so much better than using my fingers,” she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “I bet you’ve imagined this before, huh? Filling my pussy with your disgusting cock?”
You nod sheepishly. Her words aren’t entirely false; you’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with some of the girls, but never did you think you would actually get the chance to. Gaeul rocks her hips back and forth, relishing in the way your breath quickens and your eyes twitch with each slam of her petite hips. You feel yourself begin to reach the apex of your climax and urgently tap her thighs to warn her, but all she does is laugh in your face.
“You wanna dump your cum deep into my cunt, don’t you? Impregnate me with your disgusting seed?” she teases. “I’m not on the pill. What are you gonna do?”
Your eyes clamp shut, trying desperately to ignore the building sensation in the pit of your stomach. But with her warm walls making you lose all sense of control, it’s only a matter of time before you inevitably burst inside of her. Right at the last second, you grab Gaeul’s hips and lift her off of you, shooting your cum onto your stomach. Gaeul’s body shakes violently as she reaches her own orgasm, furiously rubbing at her clit as her juices spray all over your torso. Once her messy climax subsides, she scoops a dollop of your semen off of your stomach and licks it, swirling your combined juices in her mouth with a smirk.
“Mmm, tasty,” she says, cupping your chin while her other hand strokes your semi-hard shaft. “You better get it up soon, I’m not done using you.”
“Y-yes…” you mutter, still basking in the high of your orgasm.
Her grip on your face deepens, digging her nails into your cheek. “Yes, who?”
“Yes… mistress,” you utter like the word is commonplace on your tongue. With an amused smirk, Gaeul plants a kiss on your lips, much gentler than you had anticipated.
“You learn quickly. Good boy~” Hearing her say that makes your skin shiver in delight, craving the sensual lilt in her voice. You want her approval. You need her approval. With her, you’re not her manager anymore, you’re her plaything that lives to serve her.
Gaeul bites her lip as she looks down at your cock, already at full mast once again. “Carry me to my room.”
“Yes, mistress,” you answer promptly, scooping her up into your arms. Gaeul nips at your ear as you carry her to her room, trapping yourself inside with the little beast that you’ve worked with for years. The line of morality blurs to the point of disappearing, almost as if it was never there in the first place. It doesn’t matter anymore. All you care about is serving your mistress until she’s completely satisfied.
______________________________________________________________
Your eyes blink open to sunlight peeking through the window. The mattress feels oddly soft, more so than usual. Maybe it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get a new mattress. A blinding headache keeps you glued to your back, unable to make any sudden movements. Your ceiling fan looks odd too. Has it always been this big?
The door clicks open followed by a few light footsteps. “Good morning!” That’s Gaeul’s voice. Why is that Gaeul’s voice?
Panic begins to ensue as you finally look around the room. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your mattress. That’s not your ceiling fan. And where the hell are your clothes?
“W-what the-”
“Here.” Gaeul hands you a water bottle. “I bet your hangover is killing you right now.”
You quickly cover yourself with a blanket, blushing sheepishly. “G-Gaeul… Why am I here? A-and where are my cloth-” Your jaw drops in shock as you scan her outfit — She’s wearing your t-shirt paired with nothing but black panties.
“W-why are you wearing my shirt!?”
She pouts at you, placing the water bottle on her nightstand. “Do you not remember what happened last night?” She leans in with a smirk. “Because I definitely do.”
Her warmth tickles your ear. It’s an oddly… pleasant feeling, but that’s not important right now. “D-did we…?”
“Have sex?” Gaeul finishes your sentence, sitting down next to you. “Yes, we did. And it was amazing.”
Your face falls into your hands. You could lose your job for this. Hell, you could get blacklisted from the entire industry. No one’s going to want to hire a manager that fucked an idol they were supposed to be managing. This is it. You’re gonna have to flee the country, maybe even change your name. You’ll become a beet farmer on some remote island where your only friend is a seagull and-
“Hey,” Gaeul soothes you, rubbing your back. “You look worried. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I-I should’ve never let this happen, I could lose my job, my apartment, my-”
“You’re not gonna lose your job,” she assures you. “If they fire you, I’ll threaten to leave the group.” You turn to her, confused. “W-what, why?”
“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “I like you. And you made me feel sooo good last night.”
“U-um…”
“Do you still not remember what happened?” she sighs. You shake your head no. “Hmm… maybe this will help jog your memory.”
With a smirk, Gaeul cups your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her hair is still messy and her face is barren without makeup, yet she still looks so beautiful in front of you. She leans in, giving you that same pleasant feeling as her breath dances on your earlobe.
“Good boy.”
Like a movie, the scenes of last night’s misdeeds play vividly in your mind, reminding you exactly what transpired: The dinner. The taxi ride. The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. You’ve dated submissive girls before, but the way Gaeul dominated you was a whole different experience, nothing you’ve ever felt before. She took away your ability to breathe properly, completely leaving you at her mercy, and you enjoyed it. It felt dirty, but it felt good.
Gaeul chuckles as she notices your erection poking through the blanket. “Did that turn you on?”
“N-no, uh…”
“You’re really gonna be shy about it now? It looked like you were enjoying yourself more than I was last night,” she teases.
The blush on your cheeks deepen. “L-look, I… I’ve never done that kind of thing before. Hell, I’ve never had sex with an idol before. This is all kinda new to me,” you admit.
Gaeul sighs, gazing at the wall in contemplation. “I’ve never done anything like that before either. But I liked it.” She turns to you. “Did you like it?”
“Uh… Yeah. I did.”
“Would you want to keep doing it?”
The threat of losing your job still lingers in your mind. This is all new and potentially dangerous territory, and you have no idea what the future could possibly hold for either of you. But you would be the biggest idiot in the world if you lied to yourself and declined her offer.
“Yeah. I want to keep doing this with you,” you say. With a smile, Gaeul tears away the blanket and excitedly jumps into your lap, her crotch resting on your exposed erection. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing keeping you separated from her sweet pussy.
“So does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” She asks, now grinding her hips against you. Your breath gets thinner as the heat of ecstasy fills up your entire body.
“Y-yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.”
Gaeul grabs your chin, her nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks. “Yes, who?”
A moan escapes your lips as the pleasure mixes with the pain, leaving you in a state of bliss. “Yes, mistress.”
She smirks at you before taking off your shirt, revealing her perky tits and her petite waist to you. “Good boy. I can’t wait to play with you some more~”
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 4: HOW TO MAKE IT LAST
The last few weeks have been the most exciting weeks of your life. All the previous stress of working as IVE’s manager practically disappeared now that you were with Gaeul. No more wrestling with Dispatch after one of the members gets caught anymore, all she has to do is assert her dominance as the oldest and the rest of the members will listen to her. If you knew that a cheat sheet was underneath your nose this whole time, you would’ve dated her sooner.
Of course, to avoid any controversy and damage to the group, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone, including the members. However, that didn’t stop her from constantly calling you to fulfill her needs. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how many people are around, if she’s in need of release, you’re on your knees, lapping at her pussy like it’s your last meal. Gaeul is absolutely crazy, but you would be downright insane to tell your mistress “no”.
After a couple of close calls, both of you decided that it would be best to come clean to her members about your relationship. It’s already hard enough trying to keep your hands off of each other; you wouldn't want any of them to walk in on the two of you while your tongue is deep inside your girlfriend. At first, you assumed that Gaeul would simply send a quick text to the girls to alert them, but it seems like she has some other plans in mind as the two of you wait for them in one of Starship’s meeting rooms.
Gaeul moans in delight as you suck on her neck while she grinds against your leg. “Fuck, that feels good, baby,” she coos.
“Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you think it’ll be awkward if they walk in on us like this?” You ask, nipping at her ear.
“I locked the door, so they’ll have to knock before they can come in.” Of course she accounted for that. God, you fucking love her. “Now shut up and get back to sucking.”
“Yes, mistress,” you oblige, sinking your fingers into her ass as you ravage her neck. However, your playtime is cut short as a knock at the door signals the presence of the other girls.
“God dammit,” you groan. “Can we make this quick, babe? I need you so badly.”
Gaeul flashes you a mischievous smirk, giving you a soft parting kiss before climbing out of your lap. “Don’t worry, cutie, we’ll get to have some fun sooner than you think.” You ogle at her hips as she sashays over to the door, unlocking it and smiling brightly at Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, and Rei as they file through. You try to offer a similar smile, but with the aching in your jeans, you’re barely coherent enough to breathe properly.
“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Gaeul exclaims, locking the door behind them.
“Of course!” Yujin replies. “You said you had an important announcement, so that means it’s important to us too!”
“Couldn’t you just text us though? And why is our manager here?” Rei asks, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. You nervously avert your gaze, looking towards Gaeul for support.
“Because he’s part of this and I wanted to show you guys something in person,” Gaeul explains. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’re all aware of how much I’ve been complaining about not having a boyfriend, and-”
“Wah! You got a boyfriend!?” Liz exclaims, connecting the dots fairly quickly. “Who is it? Is it that one rookie that was staring at you during recording last week?”
“Ew, no,” she grimaces. “It’s actually someone all of you know very well.” Gaeul suddenly climbs onto your lap, planting a delicate kiss on your cheek. Normally, you would feel pretty nervous about doing something this vulgar in front of others, but her body heat combined with your raging hormones from your interrupted makeout session makes you completely forget about everyone else. A billion people could be watching and you would still let this gorgeous beauty do anything she wants to your body.
The girls applaud at Gaeul’s announcement, except for Wonyoung, who overdramatically rolls her eyes at the news. “You called us in to tell us this? It was so obvious you two were dating, you were practically attached at the hip for the past couple weeks.”
Gaeul chuckles, eyes darkening as she captures you with her gaze. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you guys too.” Much to your dismay, she gets off of you and drags a chair some distance away from you, sitting down. “You see, our manager here is actually a bit of a freak.”
The girls stifle their laughter as they glance at you, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment and confusion. “U-um, babe? W-what are you-”
“I could’ve acted like some ‘ditzy little fuck doll’ and let him have his way with me,” Gaeul scoffs, disdain dripping in her tone. “But then I thought ‘Why should I let him have all the fun? Our dear manager is always bossing us around, so why don’t I take charge for once?’ Granted, it was a gamble, but it paid off sooo fucking well. Don’t you agree, baby?”
Your cheeks grow redder by the second as they all look at you expectantly. “I-I mean, yeah, I-I liked it-” Suddenly, a piece of fabric hits you in the face. You examine it in your hands, your eyes growing wide with shock as you realize what it is — Gaeul’s shirt.
The rest of her members cheer at her boldness while your heart pounds against your chest, tracing her silhouette with your hungry gaze. “Crawl,” she commands.
Your eyes dart nervously between her and the rest of the girls, desire and judgment warring in your mind. “B-b-but-”
“I didn’t say you could speak,” she spits, her eyes narrowing. “Now, be a good boy and fucking crawl.”
A flip switches in your brain as desire wins the war by a landslide. Any hint of embarrassment you once held is now gone, replaced by an overwhelming amount of lust. You fall to your hands and knees, ignoring the hollering from the other girls. To you, they don’t exist anymore. All that matters is satisfying your mistress in any way you can.
Gaeul harshly grips your hair once you reach her, forcing you to stare into her eyes. The heat from her breath hits your face, driving you mad with want. You swear a glob of drool falls from your lip at the thought of getting to taste her sweet pussy again.
She drags her thumb over your lips, smirking. “Tell them what you are,” she orders, turning your head towards her members. Wonyoung rests her head against her palm like she’d rather be somewhere else, while Yujin starts recording you with her phone, no doubt to hold it over your head if you inconvenience her later on. Liz stares at you, deeply flustered, yet a hint of jealousy in her eyes, and you notice Rei sneakily trying to touch herself, her face beet red with pent up arousal.
“I am mistress’s plaything. I live to satisfy her and her alone, no matter where or when she asks me to,” you state. Wonyoung mouths an impressed “Oh wow” at Gaeul before glancing at you with a hint of disgust in her eyes.
Your hair is yanked back towards your girlfriend. “Mmm, it’s cute just how pathetic you fucking look. I bet you want your reward now, don’t you?” She teases the hem of her shorts with her other hand, flashing a glimpse of her panties at you. You nod enthusiastically, ignoring the pain in your scalp while you pant like a dog with desperation.
“Y-yes, please. I want you so badly, mistress. I crave the taste of your sweetness,” you beg. She smirks at you before standing up and removing her shorts, leaving just the fabric of her panties to block you from the true prize within like a wrapper on a candy bar. Hastily, you move your hands to the hem of her panties, but she quickly swats them away.
“Use your teeth, you fucking dog,” she spits.
“Yes, mistress.” As you get closer to her heat, her scent wafts through your nose, sending your mind deeper into a frenzy. You bite down onto the hem and jerk your head downwards, quickly uncovering the object of your desire hiding underneath. With her panties hanging from your teeth, you look up at her in search of her approval.
“Damn, I wish my boyfriend was that obedient…” Liz mutters under her breath.
Gaeul gently cups your chin, smiling at you with a palpable desire in her eyes. You love that look. You want her to look at you like that all the time, even if it means humiliating yourself in front of the girl group that you are paid to take care of. You are her pet, her plaything, her good boy that does anything she wants.
“Lick my pussy, baby,” she whispers, commanding yet soft. She bites her lip as she watches your face inch closer and closer to her dripping core, glistening and beautiful. You run your tongue along her slit, gratefully lapping at her juices while your hands caress her slender thighs. Gaeul grinds her hips against your face, pulling at your hair every time you make contact with her clit.
“F-fuck yes!” she moans, forgetting about the audience that she brought along. “J-just like that… Such a good boy… K-keep fucking me with that tongue, oh fuck!”
The sound of her pleasure is your favorite song, but it gets harder to hear as her thighs clamp around your ears. No matter; you’re doing this for her and not for you, after all. Double your efforts to please her, work your fingers into her hole while you flick your tongue against her clit. Don’t worry about the cramping in your tongue or the lack of oxygen in your lungs. All the pain is worth it for your mistress.
You feel her entire body contract as her orgasm overtakes, nearly collapsing on top of you in the process. You do your best to support her body, all while drinking up her nectar like it’s the first drop of rainfall during a long drought. The familiar tanginess hits your tongue, a flavor that you crave more than the fancy dinner she treated you on your first night together.
“H-holy shit…” Gaeul stutters, holding onto your shoulders for support as she catches her breath. “Get on the chair… I-I wanna ride you…”
You notice her legs are still shaking underneath her. “A-are you sur-”
“I said get on the fucking chair!”
You quickly jump to your feet and do as you're told, subtly making sure Gaeul doesn’t fall over before moving from underneath her. She silently scorns you with a furious glare for not immediately following her orders. The rest of the girls watch with bated breath, not used to this side of her.
Gaeul makes quick work of your jeans and your boxers, roughly squeezing your shaft in between her fingers. “Are you gonna keep fucking disobeying me, or are you gonna follow my instructions like a good boy?” she whispers harshly into your ear.
You squirm underneath her grasp, the pain only turning you on even more. “I-I’ll be a good boy, mistress. I s-swear.”
“U-um…” Wonyoung nervously interjects. “Isn’t this a bit much, Gaeul? He looks like he’s in pain.”
Gaeul wraps her other hand around your neck, her palm pushing against your Adam's apple. You moan against her touch, enjoying the lightheadedness. “Don’t you like this, baby? Don’t you love being a good little dog for me?” She teases, slowly stroking your cock.
“Y-yes, I love it so much. I love being my mistress’s dog,” you say, your breath shivering.
Gaeul turns back to Wonyoung. “See? He likes it,” she states simply. Wonyoung concedes and sinks into her chair, continuing to watch the sick and twisted display of affection in front of her with faint but growing interest.
With that out of the way, Gaeul turns back to you and hops into your lap, teasing your tip by dragging it along her wet slit. “Do you want this pussy, baby? Do you want to fill it with your disgusting cock?”
“Y-yes, mistress. I want you so badly.” Your skin crawls as jolts of electricity shoot through you with each slow drag of her lips. Any ounce of sanity you had left has completely turned into mush at this point. Despite your basest desires, you know better than to thrust into her without her permission. She has you right under her thumb, and any mistake could mean getting squashed without warning.
Her grip on your neck tightens. “Beg for it, bitch.”
“P-please… I-I need it… N-need you…” you manage to choke out, writhing under her grasp. She grins at you, shoving a messy kiss on your lips as she slams her hips down onto you. She rips a moan from deep within your chest as you grant her tongue free reign over yours, earning a hum of satisfaction in response. Her velvety walls grip onto your cock, squeezing any remaining energy you had left. You’re nothing more than a glorified dildo to be used by your merciful mistress.
Gaeul suddenly breaks the kiss, slapping you across the face. Blood rushes to your cheek, now marked red by her hand.
“Gaeul…!” Yujin gasps in shock. “Th-that’s-”
“Do it again!” you plead, silencing her concern. “P-please, mistress. Hit me again.”
Your mistress bites her lip at you, intensifying the gyration of her hips while blessing your cheeks with a frenzy of slaps. You grow dizzy with pain and pleasure, higher than any drug could ever take you.
“T-take it, you fucking dog!” she moans, continuing her assault on your face as her second orgasm rapidly approaches. You feel your own quickly following suit and tap her thigh to warn her, but Gaeul instead wraps her arms around you, showing no signs of slowing down her hips.
“I-I’m safe today, b-baby,” she whispers into your ear, much more gentle than she usually is. “Y-you can c-cum in me if you want… I f-fucking love you…”
The walls of her gorgeous pussy squeeze your shaft as she squirts onto your cock. You follow her soon after, covering her insides with your cum for the first time ever, clinging onto Gaeul’s delicate body. Your mind floats around in pure ecstasy, a feeling you never want to let go of. Gaeul lazily kisses on your neck as she recovers from her high.
“I… love you… too,” you breathlessly mutter before falling victim to exhaustion and collapsing against the chair. Gaeul climbs off of your lap and collects her discarded clothing off the ground, stumbling with each step.
“Well… that was interesting to say the least,” Yujin says after a long silence, finishing the recording on her phone.
“Send me that video later, that was really hot…” Rei whispers to her.
“Um, is he gonna be okay?” Liz asks. “I’m pretty sure we have a schedule tomorrow.”
Gaeul looks over to your now sleeping form and smiles with adoration. She kisses your reddened cheek, careful not to wake you. “He’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure,” she assures them.
Wonyoung stands up from her seat. “I’m glad you found a good… boytoy, or whatever you call him,” she says, patting Gaeul’s shoulder before leaving the meeting room. The rest of the girls follow suit, leaving Gaeul alone with you as she waits for you to wake up.
She slides a chair next to you and plants another gentle kiss on your cheek before sitting. “Good boy~” she whispers delicately, resting her head on your shoulder.
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