#starting to question my sexuality. think I may have one
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shark-hat · 1 month ago
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rewatching BAF Legacy, was delighted to find people being as insane as me about Simon
Tribute to Simon Bootles
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karinyosa · 9 months ago
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being trans with ocd is so fucking exhausting dude
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incognit0slut · 7 months ago
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Much Ado About Nothing
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Bau Reader Genre: Romance, humor, angst Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content in later parts Series status: on hiatus
There is one rule you and Spencer agreed on: never talk about the past, especially when that one regretful night strained your friendship. But throw in nosy teammates, an obvious matchmaking scheme, and a never-ending battle of wits—the line between friend and foe starts to blur as you find yourself questioning your true feelings.
a/n: I’m starting a new series after a while and am so excited!! When I found out that the movie ANYONE BUT YOU was based on a William Shakespeare play, I got inspired, so I wanted to do a fun and sexy read for the summer☀️
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ACT I - THE BEGINNING
Act I, Scene I: The Silent Agreement
Act I, Scene II: The Crude Suggestion
ACT II - THE PLAN
Act II, Scene I: The Suspicious Scheme
Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea
ACT III - THE DECEPTION
Act III, Scene I: The Fake Dating
Act III, Scene II: The Dangerous Game
Act III, Scene III: The Close Encounter
Act III, Scene IV: The Quiet Morning
Act III, Scene V: The Temporary Bliss
ACT IV - THE TRUTH
Act IV, Scene I: The Unspoken Words
Act IV, Scene II: The Flashback
Act IV, Scene III: The Heartfelt Talk
ACT V - THE END
Act V, Scene I: The Unexpected Surprise
Act V, Scene II: The Happy Start
*please note that the titles may change in the future
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I decided there will be no taglist for this, so make sure to check my blog on each date, but I might have to apologize in advance if I don’t stick to the schedule. I’ll still try my best though especially if there are feedbacks, knowing what you guys think of this series would be so nice and would keep me motivated. See you in future updates⁠!!🫶
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monstersflashlight · 7 months ago
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Hi :) Uhmm ... I like how you write, these past few days it become my obsession and joy. ( I am so sorry, I am so bad at giving compliments!)
Uhmmm .... If I may be so bold I would like to share an idea? I just thought about absolutely cocky and arogant male, womanizer Cerberos. The reader has love/hate relationship towards him. Well and after one wild party, he would corner reader and showed them his true form. And holding onto his word to rock reader´s world (quite literally)
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Hi! I'm so glad you enjoy my content, it means the world. Sorry for the long wait, adult life sucks so bad. Also, I added the anon question, hope you don’t mind. The idea that Cerberus is the one you hit on when tipsy sounds so cute to let it pass. I took the liberty to make cerberus a type of monster, so they’re just one of them and not THE cerberus, you know. I imagine they’re like a werewolf but with three heads, and like not human form, just a wolfy-guy with three heads. Each head talks separately, but in this there’s no difference between them to not make it hard to follow, but I think it’s quite good. Hope you enjoy! <3
Three heads are better than one
Cerberus (they/them) x fem!reader || fingering, public sex, dirty talk
When a cerberus started to work on your law firm, you two hit it the wrong way from the start. You were a top tier lawyer and they couldn’t understand that a human could be better than them. Three heads think better than one, how could a puny human like you be better than them? But you were, and it infuriated them. But it also fueled your banter with so much sexual tension you could taste it. But you didn’t do anything about it because everyone at the office knew they were a womanizer, they had a new girl every few days and never dated anyone. They were just there for the sex. Or that’s what everyone at the office said. But dang you wanted to hit it off with them so bad, you needed to know what their three mouths tasted like, how would it be to have three brains focused on your pleasure… That sounded delicious in the best possible way.
So when you catch them and their friends in a bar, after a few drinks, you think it’s time. You approach them and their friends at the end of the bar, ready to do something about your pent up sexual tension. You two have been dancing around each other for what feels like ages, and your tipsy brain thinks the best moment to do something about it is right now, right there. When you get closer, you can hear their friends making fun of them and elbowing them as they all giggle, pointing at you. You add a little bit of movement to your hips and hope it doesn’t look too ridiculous.
“Hi darling, how’s your night going?” You touch their pecs as all three of their heads focus on you. You blush, but keep caressing their torso over their shirt, you squeeze a bit and they slap your hand softly.
“Human, get lost.” You can’t understand how their voice can sound so harsh and so sexy at the same time, you can feel your panties melting. Maybe the alcohol has a part to blame, drinking always made you horny, and today is not different.
You pout, bating your lashes in your best puppy look. “Why are you always so mean?” Their three heads blink slowly at you, almost took out balance by your question.
“What? We’re not mean, you are just too soft,” they answer. You scoff, if they want to play that game you can give as better as receive. Uh, receiving… That’s exactly what you want. In a sexy way, against a wall if possible. They look like they can lift you up and fuck you.
“I’m not soft. I’m human. And you are mean.” You think you heard him say something about how they’re already aware that you are human, but you aren’t sure, the bar is really loud and the world is spinning around you.
“You need to go away before we do something all of us would regret.” Their central head is the one doing the talking, but the other two nod along.
“I don’t want to.” You know you sound bratty and entitled, but you are horny and everyone says they’re a womanizer, why are they not womanizing you? “You don’t like humans, is that it?”
“Trust me, they like humans. They like them reeeeeal good.” One of their friends says behind them. All of them laugh, but your coworkers are looking at you like they are going to dig a hole through your body just with their eyes.
“Come with me.” They sound fed up, like they are going to scold you and it’s going to feel awful. But your tipsy brain doesn’t process it fully, so you follow them without questioning. They lead you to the back of the bar, the hallway that leads to the bathroom. The music is softer there, you can listen to your own brain better.
They push you against the wall, they body pressing against your front. You shiver, anticipation filling your guts and their low growl making you whimper. “We can smell how wet you are, we can almost taste your desire. You are too tempting for your own good, honey.” You think the pet name was condescending every time they used it before, but at that moment, it sounds like a caress.
Their hands found the edge of your skirt as they grab your leg and position it against their hip. You are open and exposed, your skirt riding up and your soaked panties in the open. You whine again. You never felt as dirty and naughty as you do now, it’s maddening. They cress the outside of your thigh as they rock their hips against you, letting you feel their cock through your panties. You moan loudly.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please.” You know you’d be embarrassed beyond belief about it the next morning, but right now you don’t care. You can only think about how good their finger feels inside of you, and how much you wish that was their cock. When they move your panties to the side and push one finger inside your needy pussy, you cry out.
“Not here, little human.” They press against your G-spot, making your knees buckle under you. They grab your waist and holds you pressed against the wall as you pant. “If tomorrow you feel like this again, then we can talk.” They said, their fingers slowly thrusting into you.
“What?” You ask, trying to focus on their words and not the wonders they’re doing on your pussy. Their thumb rolls over your clit and you have to bite on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. It feels so good. You start to move your hips at the rhythm of their thrusts.
“We’ve been waiting forever to get your attention, We’re not wasting it on a quick fuck on a bar.” Their voice sounds serious and you feel confused as fuck. What are they talking about? They hate you, they always pick stupid fights with you over the silliest things.
“What?” You ask, trying to grab their hand but holding onto their shoulders, moving your hips faster. The rational part of you is not present, only your whore-ish part.
“We’ve been waiting to ask you out but we thought you wouldn’t want us.” They mutter that under their breath, you barely catch it.
“What?” You ask, once more. Are they saying they like you? They wanted to ask you out? But… But the gossip. They said they didn’t date, you never saw them with anybody, just random hookups. “What?” You ask again.
“You… We… We have a bit of a human kink with you, okay? You are so soft and so pretty. We can’t stop thinking about you. And then you get up in front of the judge and good lord do you look good. You look magnificent.” Their voice sounds amazed, like they are telling the truth and they truly like you. What the fuck?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your question is lost when their thumb starts rubbing against your clit. You think they answer something, but your brain is fuzzy with pleasure. “Stop touching my clit I can’t focus.” You whisper, trying to look at them and see if they aren’t lying. There’s no way they want you, is it?
“What if we don’t want you to focus? What if we want you coming around our fingers until you are crying out how much you love it? How much you like being stretched in public by us?” You moan so loud they have to cover your mouth with their unoccupied hand. “Shhh, be quiet. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” Your pussy involuntarily clenches around their fingers. “Oh, naughty girl, you do want to get caught. Does that excite you? Do you want everyone to see how improper you really are? You are such a good lawyer but then you part your legs for us in the back of the bar… Such a dirty, dirty woman.” You shiver, your juices flowing around their fingers. You’ve never been as turned on as you are right there, their fingers feel divine and you are so fucking close.
“Please…” Your plea sounds pathetic and you blush, but they just smirk at you, two of their heads attacking your neck at the same time. Feeling the two sets of mouths against your neck combined with the feel of their fingers moving inside of you is getting you so wet their hand is making filthy sounds.
“You are so wet for us, so soft. I bet you taste amazing. We are going to spend so much time licking you. Do you know what they say about cerberus?” You shake your head. “We give the best head because we have three of them. Do you want to feel three tongues against your pussy, honey? Do you want to be worshiped by three heads?” The image they are painting in your head is so good you want to open your legs and ask them to do it right there. But you are so close already, their fingers feel so fantastic inside of you.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rolling your hips. They accompany your movement, getting you almost to the edge.
“Are you going to come for us? Are you going to be a good woman and come around our fingers? We can’t wait to feel you around our dicks, bet you are going to feel better than any pussy we ever had. Our first human. Our only human. What are you gonna do, honey? Do you want to suck us off?” You nod eagerly, so close. “Of course you want to, you want to be a good little human for us.” You get the feeling them calling you human is doing more for them than for you. Their human kink is playing in your favor. “Come for us, human.” They whisper against your ear as the other two heads suck on your neck.
The combination of fingers and mouths makes your body shake uncontrollably against theirs, your orgasm so good you almost fall down. You can feel your juices dripping down and soaking your panties and their fingers. They take their fingers away and you watch in amazement as they raise their hand to lick it, all three of their heads getting some. You moan as aftershocks rock your body.
They put your panties back in place and slowly lower your leg. Your legs are shaky and you grab onto their arm. Three heads smile down at you, one of them looking specially smug. They pass an arm over your shoulders and help you walk out of the hallway. “Let us take you home.” They whisper, their hold on you so hard it feels wonderful. It feels so good you could fall asleep right there. They gave you the orgasm of your life and on top of it, they are sweet about it. You judged them so bad you feel like shit. You can always make it up to them at some point. You add it to your mental list of things to do in the morning, even though you know you won’t remember.
“There’s no need.” You try to argue, without any force behind your words. You really want to spend more time with them.
“We want to.” Their voice is final, you know that tone. That’s the tone they use in court, and you know you can’t win against it.
They drive you home as you fidget with your rings, nervous after what happened, after what they said. You want to run, to break the silence, but you are speechless. You don’t know what to say and the alcohol you had is kicking you really hard. You feel sleepy and tired, more than ready to go to bed.
They follow you to your house, opening your door and leading you to your bedroom where they help you get undressed. You think they are going to do something more, but they barely touch your naked body as they cover you with a blanket.
You feel three soft forehead kisses before they say: “We aren’t playing games with you, honey. We want to play with your pussy, yes, but not with your heart. We hope you give us a chance.” You nod, and try to answer, but your eyes are so heavy that you can’t keep them open, your brain shutting down.
When you wake up the next morning with a text saying: “We can’t wait to have you sucking our cock. And then we can go to dinner, we booked the fancy restaurant you like.” You giggle on your pillow and kick your legs. Yeah… That sounds like the start of a very fun game.
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missqhughes · 4 months ago
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IS SHE REALLY YOURS? | Q. HUGHES43
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-> quinn x jacksgf!reader
-> contains: mentions of sex and sexual acts, verbal fights, cheating, teasing, ocs created for the plot, use of y/n, lowercase intended
-> IN WHICH: y/n swears to herself and quinn that jack will never know what happened between them. however, as jack’s actions become even more questionable, quinn starts to drop hints about what he did to his girlfriend the night before, showing him two can play at the same game.
-> the HIGHLY requested pt 2 to can he get you like this! god i love this plot soooo much. don’t know if i would hate to be in this situation or adore it 🫥 anyway, hope you love it as much as i do!
18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
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y/n knew it was wrong.
that she fucked her boyfriends older brother. how much she enjoyed it, how good he made her feel. that she loved how it sounded when he moaned her name. that she slept in quinn’s bed in his boxers, she felt a comfort in him holding her close in his unconscious state.
y/n attempted to reach over quinn to grab his phone, afraid that she had woken up too late and leaving quinn’s room would mean certain, immediate trouble.
quinn shifted, waking up and witnessing her crawling on top of him, reaching for the side table, and ultimately failing to do so.
“well, good morning to you too, what are you doing?”
quinn’s sleepy voice was like music to her ears, “sorry, i just wanted to see what time it is,” she said, backing up to lay on her side, partly embarrassed that quinn caught her in the act.
quinn let out a chuckle, brushing the hair away from her face, then holding the nape of her neck to bring her into a sweet kiss.
he inhaled with satisfaction, “you don’t need to know what time it is,” he mumbled against her lips, breaking away to place a kiss on her jawline.
“i do, it’s going to look pretty bad if jack is awake and i come out of your room. especially looking… like this.” y/n remarked, her chest branded with quinn’s mark.
quinn briefly looked at his phone screen, “it’s 7:50, still pretty early. you should be good,”
y/n felt a relief, thinking the worst, that it was later in the morning and everyone else was already awake and that she would have to bring the million dollar excuse to the table of why she was coming out of quinn’s room instead of her own, or jacks.
y/n got up off the bed to look for her shirt and shorts, only to realize that her shirt was still splayed over the kitchen counter.
“fuck”, she whispered to herself, cursing at her forgetfulness.
“can you go get my shirt from the kitchen? i don’t want to walk out there in just a bra and shorts.”
got up and ruffled his hair, his broad shoulders displaying just noticeable scratch marks down them. instead of leaving the room, he went into his closet.
“just wear one of mine,” he said casually,
y/n knew he wasn’t going to get it, and she sure as hell wasn’t either. no one was going to see her in it, so who cares?
quinn tossed her an oversized shirt, a grey one with the classic canucks logo on it. she shot him a look,
“seriously? quinn i cant wear this. what am i going to say to jack if he sees this in my room?” she held the t-shirt in her hands, flustered just at the thought of wearing quinn’s shirt.
“you’ll be fine, you worry too much,” quinn was so casual in his demeanor, some may say it was off putting, but that’s just how he was.
y/n slipped the shirt over her head, engulfed by quinn’s familiar and newly intoxicating scent.
“see you for breakfast then?” she said, standing by the door, holding out the boxers he lent her the night before.
“always,” he said, taking the boxers from her hand before biting his lip and slapping her ass as she left his room.
“quinn!”
“sorry, just had to,” quinn laughed, then closed the door behind her.
was any of this real? she thought to herself.
y/n quietly shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing her shirt that was, in fact, splayed over the kitchen counter. she hurried back to her room in a quiet run, softly closing the door and finally letting out the breath she was holding in.
she took off quinn’s shirt and replaced it with her own, his scent still lingering on her. y/n’s mind went blank, wondering how everything was going to be from now on. sure, jack didn’t know. he will never know. but now that she had done this with quinn, what does that mean for them?
she knew she couldn’t have them both, that she couldn’t just end things with jack just to move on to his older brother.
y/n snapped out of it, shoving quinn’s shirt deep into her dresser, where hopefully no one would find it.
——————————————————————————
10:23am
y/n thought this was a safe enough time to leave her room, this being the hour she usually emerges to the living room. but this time she had been up for hours before hand, laying down, a million thoughts firing at once.
she walked down to the kitchen, no quinn or jack, or alana in sight, just april and luke.
“morning guys, the others aren’t up yet?”
luke yawned, “morning, quinn isn’t up but alana and jack are.”
y/n tried her best to keep a poker face, but she felt her heart sink at hearing that they were up but no where in sight.
“oh. where’s jack then?”
she didn’t give a shit about where alana was, as long as it wasn’t with jack.
“he took her out on the jetski, they left like 10 minutes ago,” april let out quickly, avoiding eye contact with y/n.
great.
in almost weird, perfect timing, both quinn came out of his room as alana and jack came up from the dock.
a few good mornings were shared, jack walking over to y/n sitting at the kitchen barstool, placing a quick soft kiss on her cheek. quinn smirked while watching, her head dipping down slightly to hide the pink hue dressed on her face.
jack, for once in his life it seemed like, noticed, and he gave quinn a weird look.
“what’s up with you bud?” he smiled, passing his older brother in the kitchen.
quinn poured himself coffee, back to his brother, covering the devilish smile he had on his face.
“nothing, just slept really good last night, ya know? bed felt extra comfortable,” he said casually, sipping his coffee then facing jack with a nonchalant look.
y/n held her breath, thinking she was going to pass out either from lack of air or whatever the fuck game quinn was playing.
she was so focused on the interaction playing out in front of them, she didn’t notice the other three leaving, april tugging her friend into luke’s room, and him by the door listening to their conversation.
thankfully jack thought nothing of quinn’s remark, and he chuckled at his brother, “yeah i get you. all of us should get down to the water, it’s a super nice day out.”
he would know that. he’s already been out with alana today.
but she couldn’t go out today. not with the situation going on with her chest.
“i’ll probably just stay in-”
“-how about a boat day? i’ll come with this time. all of us.” quinn was quick to cut her off, and she couldn’t control the eye roll that came after.
jack nodded in agreement, “i’ll go tell the others,”
god, what did she get herself in to?
——————————————————————————
the weather was perfect, a calm summer day to pair with the pure anxiety she had on this boat ride. a secret under her shirt, and thankfully, quinn had his on too.
everything was fine for the most part, she was sitting next to jack, legs resting on his lap, and his arm gently draped over them.
the only thing that wasn’t fine, was that alana was still wearing his fucking hat. that she was taking pictures in it, and that they just could not stop talking to each other.
y/n looked at quinn’s focused expression steering the boat, and he looked back at her, then glancing at jack and alana. he slowed the boat, until it came to a complete stop.
“we should anchor here, too nice to not swim,”
she held her breath, again.
and to her horror, quinn peeled his shirt off, scratch marks in full visibility across his back.
luke was the first to notice, “dude, did you fuck someone last night?” after luke’s comment, the rest of them all turned their heads to see what he was talking about.
“damn Q, you’re an animal,” jack followed, “when did you leave the house to smash?”
“i didn’t, she came to ours.”
y/n’s heart stopped.
“who?” april asked, everyone curious about quinn’s secret woman of the night.
“yeah quinn, who?” y/n asked, gaze not leaving him, clenching her thumbs in her hands to prevent anyone seeing them from shaking.
“not telling. wanna see where it goes. but she lives really close,” he dived into the water, luke and april following after.
god what was he doing? does he think this is funny?
jack tapped her legs, signaling her to move, and she did. he walked towards the edge of the boat, noticing y/n didn’t soon follow after.
“you’re not going to get in? you love swimming,”
guilt hit her like a truck.
“i really dont feel well, i think swimming will just make me feel sicker,” she lied through her teeth, wrapping her arms around her body to sweeten the lie.
“don’t worry, i’ll swim with you jack!” a piercing voice said, y/n scoffed as alana skipped to where jack was, pushing him in.
she looked back at y/n, the two holding eye contact for just a moment before jack grabbed alana’s arm and pulled her into the water.
whatever.
the guilt was fading away, and as y/n looked out into the water, she didn’t notice april looking at her with a face of concern.
——————————————————————————
the ride back to the house brought familiar feelings back to her.
quinn decided to keep his shirt off, which she knew was 100%, undeniably, intentional. her evidence on him was on display for everyone, and her mind faded in a daydream of clawing into his back, pornographic moans emitting from her lips, all while he fucked her senselessly.
she needed to be alone.
y/n didn’t wait for anyone, instead booking it straight back into the house. she threw herself onto her bed, groaning into the plush pillows as she gripped her hair so tight she thought she might rip it out.
in her tantrum of panic, there was a knock at her door.
she didn’t know who she was hoping it was. jack? quinn? both?
neither.
it was april.
“hey,” she smiled softly at y/n before speaking again, “can we talk?”
“yeah, of course,” y/n held open the door to let april in to her room, the girl sitting on the edge of the bed, tensed up.
she never hated april. she actually found her really nice, thought she was a good fit for luke. they’d always gotten along, even going on double dates with her and jack.
“are you okay? what’s up?” she sat next to her, crossing her legs on the bed.
april inhaled deeply, in contemplation of her words.
“y/n, there’s something you should know.”
her heart stopped.
“what is it?”
“jack… and alana. i know she’s my friend but you deserve to know this. i mean you’ve seen it yourself she’s been throwing herself at jack this whole time. i keep telling her to stop but she just won’t, and i think they might have kissed on the dock.”
she felt like she was going to pass out, her throat burning with heartache. it hurt extra because she had no right to feel this way. she was the one who cheated on him first. or did she even? it was an impossible situation.
“how do you know?”
y/n could tell april was trying not to cry, her own personal guilt coming out, “the other day, when you went to your room after dinner, alana and jack went down to the dock, just the two of them. i could see through the windows he was leaned over her, and she had her hand on his chest. that’s why i don’t know if they did for sure, and alana refuses to tell me.”
any guilt, all guilt she had in her situation was gone. at least she had the reservations to cheat on the low, and not be so embarrassingly blatant about it.
she hated it. she hated him.
y/n contemplated in this moment what she should do. should she tell april what her and quinn did? that they were both just another chain in the link of cheaters?
she was going to fake sadness, but the tears flew out unconsciously.
“thank you for telling me. i appreciate it.”
april nodded, and the two held a long, comforting hug.
“you’re welcome, and i’m sorry. i don’t know what you want to do but she’ll be gone in a few days, if you wanted to confront jack then.”
“yeah, good idea,” april gave her one last smile before getting up,
“i’ll be down by the water if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
y/n gave her a thumbs up, and with a gentle click of the lock, april left.
she waited a couple minutes, enough time for her to be gone, then shuffled over to quinn’s room. his door was shut and there was no noise to be heard, but she prayed he would answer when she knocked.
and he did.
“hey, hey, what happened?” his look softened, instinctively holding her face in hands, wiping her tear ridden face.
“jack cheated. he fucking cheated before we even did anything quinn. that night… the night i went to my room, he kissed her, he kissed alana on the dock. he was almost on top of her and she had her hand on his chest.”
her voice trembled, she held up her hands to hold quinn’s arms to keep her standing, feeling that if she didn’t, she would come crumbling to the floor.
quinn’s soft expression quickly morphed into a look of anger,
“how do you know that?”
“april told me,” y/n sobbed.
“oh, y/n,” he pulled her into his room, engulfing her in a hug, resting his face on the top of her head as he rubbed gentle circles on her back.
“everything’s going to be fine, okay? it’s gonna be just fine. do you trust me?”
she looked up at him with glossy eyes, not a hint of deceit in his face.
“yes, i trust you quinn.”
he kissed the tip of her nose, her tear stained cheeks, then her puffy red lips.
“good. lay down with me for now, i don’t want you upset all alone,”
she nodded, taking quinn’s hand and following to his bed, where he wrapped the blanket and himself around her, soothing the hiccuping sobs while massaging her body, and whispering that she was okay, and he was here.
——————————————————————————
y/n woke up in quinn’s bed.
but he was nowhere to be found.
stretching and rubbing her puffy eyes, she got up from the warm comfort of quinn’s bed. creaking open the door to see if anyone was up. when the coast was clear, y/n slipped out of quinn’s room and down to the main level.
she was greeted with everyone else, luke and quinn in the kitchen cooking dinner, and the others resting around the living room.
quinn looked over at y/n, waving her over to the kitchen.
“quite the napper recently aren’t you?” he joked, leaning his body slightly towards her, “you okay?” he whispered.
“i’m fine,” she said back, quinn holding her waist for just a few seconds then back to the cutting board before anyone could notice.
“go relax, dinner will be ready soon,”
she jokingly saluted him, taking the empty seat next to april on the couch, luke and jack occupying the chairs whilst they played video games.
she gave her a side hug, and y/n rested her head softly on april’s shoulder. her eyes glanced to alana, who was already looking at her, jaw tight and a deep look of annoyance on her face.
cant wait for a great family dinner.
——————————————————————————
y/n actually felt okay enough to talk.
it felt like everything was back to the way it was before, everyone was in the conversation. laughing, joking, enjoying it all together.
“so Q, you gotta tell us, who’s the chick you hooked up with?” jack asked, still rolling in curiously over who his older brother secretly had in his bed.
aaaaand there it was. back to reality.
quinn wiped his mouth and looked at jack coldly, “why do you want to know so bad?”
everyone looked taken aback at quinn’s defensive reaction,
“chill, i was just wondering. we all were trying to think of who it could be but came up blank.”
luke chimed in, “is she hot?”
“very.”
she could hear her heart beat pounding into her ears.
“how did you meet?”
“through someone else.”
“was it good?”
“even better than i imagined in my head.”
y/n’s chest felt like that of a hummingbird, unable to slow the pulse of her heart.
quinn crossed his arms on the table, “actually, i have a question for you jack.”
god, why was he doing this now? couldn’t he wait a few days?
“yeah?”
“what were you doing at the dock with alana the other night?”
here we fucking go.
jack stared blankly at quinn, the whole table fell into silence. his brother stared back, his expression unwavering.
“what are you talking about?”
“you two were there. her hand was on your chest, you were all over her. what’s up with that?”
jack stared at his brother blankly, placing his hand on y/n’s thigh with a soft squeeze.
“baby it’s not true, i promise. he’s lying,”
“i saw it for myself. alana?” quinn shifted the conversation to her, clearly annoyed that jack disregarded his question.
alana said nothing, jacks head whipping around to look at her, pleading blue eyes filled with nothing but guilt. she took her head in her hands, and just barely nodded in confession.
jack begun to panic, moving his hand up to caress y/n’s face, anything to save himself.
“baby i promise it’s not what you think. you’re all mine, i-”
“is she though?” quinn stood, leaning over the table slightly, a dark sound in his voice.
“what the hell are you talking about quinn?”
“you know… last night, she cried to me. cried to me about how shitty you were being, how little love you were giving her, how little attention gave to her. so i did.”
if looks could kill, jack and quinn would have matching wounds.
“what are you getting at?”
“i fucked her. in my bed. yeah, she was so fucking sexy moaning my name, i even made her cum. hard. ever get her like that jack? hm?”
no one else could say a word. luke’s mouth was hung open in shock, april’s covered by two hands, and alana with an unreadable expression.
y/n turned away, unable to look him in the eye,
“is all this true? look at me.”
she refused, instead nodding with a quivering lip, tears coating her closed lashes.
jack scoffed, “unbelievable, you are fucking unbelievable,” he was stood up now too, a hand gripped through his hair.
that’s when her emotions turned into a complete 180, appalled at his words,
“me? i’m unbelievable? you just spent the past couple days flirting with alana, come to find out you kissed her, and you think you get the only right to be mad? you need to fucking leave.”
“leave, you know this is also my house right?”
“jack…” luke’s voice trailed off, disappointment lingering, “you should go.”
“you’re kidding?”
“no. go to your apartment in jersey, go to mom and dads, anywhere, but you can’t be here for the rest of the summer.”
jack rubbed a hand on his mouth before slamming his fists on the table, grabbing alana’s hand, and ascending up to his room, likely to pack all their things.
y/n’s silent tears now turned into loud sobs, paining her each time she took a breath. quinn held her first, april and luke soon to wrap their arms around the pair too.
——————————————————————————
cleaning up after dinner was silent.
no one dared to speak, the loudest noise in the room being the familiar soft hum of the refrigerator.
they had all made their way to the living room after, y/n with her legs pulled up to her chest, leaned on quinn, the well known crumbling feeling just around the corner from her.
about an hour had passed since jack and alana went up, and now footsteps trailed down, them both emerging with packed suit cases.
together? who knows.
who cares.
the silence was still kept when they stepped towards the door, y/n only standing up when jack looked at her.
“hope you realize he just used you. used you because you were vulnerable, and easy. don’t forget that.”
the door slammed shut.
“you two definitely need some time alone,” april said softly, fiddling with the fingers in her lap.
“agreed, we’re gonna go to my room, you all got the floor, Q” luke chimed, putting an arm around april. as he tapped quinn’s shoulder and lovingly messed up y/n’s hair, they went to luke’s room, leaving just quinn and her left.
“and then there were two.” quinn said lightheartedly, his laugh fixing the dark aura that surrounded them previously.
“yeah, just us.”
“i always wanted it to be just us.”
she was in shock, especially considering her and jack dated for almost two years, and she knew the hughes family even longer before.
“quinn,” she began,
“i promise. i’ve wanted to give you everything for so long. i was crushed when jack told me he had feelings for you, but i pushed mine aside because i wanted him to be happy. but i knew i could be better for you,”
she wrap her arms around his neck, eyes going over all his gorgeous features, lip slightly quivering at his resemblance to jack.
“i had no idea quinn, if i knew… things could’ve been so different. but right now, i do want you. but i need time, it’s so fresh,” she almost framed it as a question, nervously awaiting what quinn was going to say.
“that’s okay, i’ll wait forever if i have to. right now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the summer yeah, how’s that sound?”
she smiled, bringing her head down to fully hug him,
“that sounds really good, but what about you and jack?” quinn’s face was unwavering, not a hint of worry or fear present.
“me and jack can figure our shit out later. it’ll all be okay,” he turned his head to kiss her temple reassuringly. y/n knew he was being truthful, every time quinn said something would be okay, it would be.
with his sweet words, she was ready to soak all of him into her. she was really all his.
——————————————————————————
© missqhughes
xoxo, kaia
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jj-one · 9 months ago
Text
HATE YOU
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this is smut, do not interact if under 18
pairing: enemies to lovers ? (sorta one-sided tho), college au, fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader genre/tags: smut, angst, alcohol usage, dirty talk, lowkey perverted!jk, fingering, piv, unprotected sex (oof), drunk sex, public sex (reader & jk do it at a house party), riding, video recording **pls don’t do none of this irl LMAO words: 2.7k
**old repost from my deleted blog
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Hate is a strong word— at least that’s what people try and say. You meant it though, it was a word you didn’t use lightly. Especially when it came to your opinion on 99% of the male population at your school. You couldn’t stand most of them, they all just wanted one thing. Getting into your pants.
You despised hook-up culture with a passion and it didn’t help that most guys who tried talking to you were all the same. You had a special hatred for a particular individual the most though— Jeon Jungkook from your physics class. He was the most arrogant, conceited, egotistical person you’ve ever met your whole life.
Every class he would have a different girl with him wrapped around his arm, walking him to the door like he’s some kind of royalty. The way almost every girl would swoon over him just because he’s good looking was baffling to you. Yeah he may have a pretty face but does that cancel everything else out? Of course not. You’ll never understand why these women would choose to go after someone like him, you felt embarrassed for them honestly.
“Jungkook, meet me after class I’ll be waiting for you!” Some girl shouted through the door to get his attention.
He was sitting two seats from you, looking at his phone while paying no mind to the obvious screaming being directed to him. He was so full of himself it was ridiculous.
“Hey y/n, what’re you doing tonight?”
That voice startled the hell out of you. Who gave Jungkook the right to even be speaking to you right now? Looking over in his direction, you give him an empty stare.
“Why do you care?” You said harshly.
It makes no sense why he would even try talking to you, you’ve never given him any indication you liked him.
“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he chuckles, “you should pull up to my party tonight!” You wanted to almost physically gag at the wink he just gave you.
“I’m good.” You shut him down quickly and try moving on but he doesn’t let you off that easy.
“You sure? The whole schools practically gonna be there, you don’t wanna miss out on all the fun do ya?” That annoying smirk on his face was really starting to irritate you.
“I said I’m good, I’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties.”
“I think you got me mixed up with someone else, my parties are always lit. If you have a change of heart though, I’ll make sure to show you a real good time.”
You scoff, utterly disgusted by his last comment, just about everything he said had sexual undertones to them. His humor was weird and extremely perverted which heavily pissed you off. You couldn’t wait for this class to be over.
“We’re almost here!” Yuna exclaims in the passenger seat.
You were in the back with two of your other friends as you were headed to a party. You weren’t totally up for partying tonight but ultimately your friends were able to convince you to go. You don’t even know where the party is but maybe it’s good to get your mind off things.
“Oh, by the way who’s party is this?” You ask suddenly as Lisa pulls into a driveway.
The car got silent for a second, no one answered your question. It was a bit odd to you the way they all froze up.
“Actually… it’s Jungkook’s party…” Lisa finally spoke, her eyes kept trailing away from you.
“What the fuck? Of all places you choose to go you pick him?!” You felt so betrayed.
They really drove you all the way here just to trick you into coming and now you have no escape plan. They all begged and pleaded for you to suck it up and let loose for just one night. You finally agreed but only under the condition that you want to be far away from him as possible.
“Why do you even dislike him so much? You would think he had murdered someone or something!” Your friend asks.
“I just think he’s a pretentious asshole that doesn’t deserve all the hype he gets.”
They just shrug your opinion off and get out the car. You huff as you open the door and head to the party with the rest of them.
You instantly felt claustrophobic once you go inside. There were crowds of people everywhere. Jungkook was right, everyone at the school was practically here. Loud rap music was blaring through the speakers, red solo cups scattered the floor, people getting sloppy drunk or stoned; the perfect stereotypical house party.
You haven’t seen him yet so that was a good sign and you go up to the kitchen to get drinks with Lisa. 20 minutes pass by now and Lisa was left out of your sight. You have no idea where she could’ve run off to and now you have to search the place to find your friends.
Heading outside into the backyard, your balance was becoming unstable from the alcohol in your system. You were taking shots of Hennessy back to back and it caught up to you faster than you could blink. You sat down on one of the lawn chairs since your head was starting to feel really heavy. You felt a sudden tap behind your shoulder and hear a voice that even when you’re drunk, you can sense with disdain.
“Well, well, well if it isn’t little miss ‘i’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties!’” Jungkook teases while coming from behind you.
“Get the hell away from me!” You lean away from him to leave you alone but he only came closer.
“This is my house so I don’t need to go anywhere, if anything I think I should kick you out for being so mean to me.” His face inched towards yours further, putting you in an uncomfortable position.
You don’t know why your body felt paralyzed though, it was probably just from all the alcohol inebriating your mind.
“You know, I never understood why you actually hate me. I never hurt you did I?” He says, slightly cocking his head to the side.
His tattooed hand landed on your knee, just planting it there while keeping strong eye contact. You couldn’t speak for some reason, it was as if an enormous lump has formed and got caught inside your throat. He looks down at the skirt you’re wearing and bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.
“Why aren’t you talking? You usually have a lot to say to me, why so quiet now sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He continues speaking in that condescending tone of his and you’ve had enough now.
“I fucking hate your guts Jungkook, I absolutely despise you. You’re a cocky, perverted fuckboy that needs to be humbled and finally put in your place!” You snap back at him while pushing his hand away.
“Woah girl chill out, that was a bit harsh don’t ya think? Also, I’d love for you to put me in my place any day.” Yet again, he never fails to make a sexually charged comment.
“You’re disgusting, seriously get help!” You attempt to get up from the lawn chair but he pushes you back down.
“You know, I’ve always liked my girls a little feisty. I find it hot when girls yell at me.”
Either this man has a humiliation kink or is just plain stupid— either way you don’t want to be anywhere near him but he wouldn’t let you leave.
“Please just go away Jungkook, I don’t want you in my sight anymore.”
“Really? Because if that were true then you would’ve been left already,” his hand went to stroke the side of your hair “seems like you really don’t want me to leave.”
His other hand went back to your knee again but slowly trails up to your thigh and goes under your skirt this time. You were surprised within yourself that you were even letting this happen. He leans in to your face, being just a few inches away from his lips. You became almost in a trance by those pink, pillowy lips. You don’t know what came over you but you grab his face and messily kiss him. The movement of your lips colliding and syncing together as he deepened the kiss. He sensually touches your thigh while you moan into the kiss and he squeezes your thigh tightly in response. Looking around to see all the people still here when you pull away from him; you can’t fathom you just made out with Jungkook in front of all these goddamn people. You just lost all respect for yourself.
“You know I’ve always secretly had a crush on you y/n?” Jungkook admits, “I kinda like it when girls are mean to me. Or maybe I just like it when you’re mean, I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Let me show you how mean I can get then.” You reply, staring up at him with hungry eyes.
That cheesy grin never leaving his face as he hears you speak. The tension only grew thicker and he wasn’t about to waste another second.
“Sit on my lap.” He uses his hands to maneuver you and leans back in the chair.
You drunkenly stumble on top of him, feeling him against you. Your body heat raised through the roof but this time you were sure it wasn’t because of the liquor. You straddle his lap as you go back to hastily making out. His wandering hands kept slipping down to your ass to squeeze it and you were starting to feel dizzy from the way he was kissing you. You feel his touch under your skirt to play with you some more, not caring if anyone’s looking at this point.
“I don’t think we should be doing this.. not here at least. Too many people.” You say when pulling away from his lips.
“I really don’t give a fuck, it’s my party let them watch. Let’s put on a good show for everyone, yeah?”
You know this goes beyond against every moral you’ve had before. You’re about to do the one thing you told yourself that you’d never do.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Agreeing to go along with his narrative.
He lets you in charge now, letting you have full control over the way you get to ride him. You push your panties to the side and he undoes his pants to free his fully hard member. You didn’t realize how much of a nice cock he has, it was well groomed and had the perfect size/width.
“You have a really pretty dick, must I say.” You still can’t believe these words are being said to Jungkook.
“Thanks baby, I can’t wait for it to be in that pretty little pussy of yours.”
He drags two of his fingers down to your core and swipes in a circular motion, smearing the wet slick as he watches your mouth open wide with pleasure. His digits sink into your cunt harshly, pushing them deeper and deeper.
“Fuck! Your fingers feel too good…” you hid your face in his shoulder as he splits you open.
Your eyes hung low and your mind was hazy. Unable to think straight, you just wanted to feel Jungkook inside of you already.
“Need to fuck you nowww!” You yell, almost sounding a bit whiny.
“So do it then cutie. Come fuck yourself on my cock.”
He withdraws his digits out of you and licks the juices off them one by one. His grin would only get wider as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so soaking wet you sunk down on him easily while resting your hands around his shoulders to brace yourself a bit before moving. Once you regain focus you slide up and down on his shaft nice and slow; making him bite his lip, moan, and curse under his breath.
“Your pussy feels so good… so tight… fuck..” his mind was going blank as you pick up a steady pace.
You were so out of it by now that you were bouncing on his cock in a frenzy. He roughly thrusted his hips back into you while you sloppily rode him. The way he filled you up felt like you were in heaven. You open your eyes for a second, forgetting that you were at a party. Almost everyone was looking at you, some people even took out their phones to record the scene in front of them. It was probably all the alcohol you drank but you didn’t even care anymore, you continued savagely riding him. You’re moaning louder as you slam down into him harder, pulling his body closer to yours. He loudly grunts from your walls aching around him, his cock was throbbing so intensely he felt himself wanting to burst already.
People were beyond shocked to see this happening, it was a wild party but they weren’t expecting all this. You try not to pay attention to everyone and focus on Jungkook so you can make yourself cum. Then out of nowhere, he spontaneously lifts you up while you’re still on his cock. Engulfing those large hands on your ass cheeks to keep you balanced and thrusts into you deep while he’s standing up. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, you weren’t too scared of falling since he had a strong grip on you. You were taking his cock with each harsh stroke he gave, screaming out his name over and over so the whole party could hear it.
“Fuck yes Jungkook! Keep fucking me just like that, you’re so good!!” You could feel yourself coming close and so does Jungkook. Wet strands of sticky hair cling to his face from all the work he’s putting in, his eyebrows furrowed to concentrate solely on making you cum.
“Gonna cum on this cock for me baby? I feel you getter tighter ‘round me.”
“Yess, wanna cum on your cock so bad please!”
He was hitting all the spots in you just right, the slight curve of his shaft fit so perfectly in your core. Your mouth was back to being jaw locked again, feeling the heat wave of your orgasm coming through. It hit even harder when you were drunk, you felt like you were going to fall out of his arms but he noticed you slipping and pulls you up into a firmer grasp. While shutting your eyes you feel your release take over, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly like a broken record.
“I’m ‘bout to cum ….” He pulls out of you and sets you back on the lawn chair, “look up and open wide for me.”
You open your mouth eagerly for him, he gives his cock a few pumps before releasing his white creamy load into your mouth. You swallow every drop of his cum and stick your tongue out for him to show your empty mouth. He smiles at the pretty sight of you and goes in to kiss you once again.
“This is fucking insane!” One of the random people at the party says.
You recognize the person since they’ve been watching you from the start. To say that you and Jungkook left everyone at that party speechless was an understatement.
“You know people were taking videos of us right?” Jungkook says cautiously.
“Yeah… it’s probably going to end up all over social media now, if it hasn’t already. Oh well, like I care!” You shrug nonchalantly.
Oh you’ll definitely care when you sober up.
“Let’s get outta here?” Jungkook zips his pants back up and takes his hand out for you to grab.
You hold onto him and balance your wobbly legs to stand up. You were both severely drunk but he held his liquor way better than you did. For the rest of the night, the party continued and you ended up finding your friends. They soon found out about you were doing and how you fucked Jungkook in front of everyone there, they were all completely taken aback. You went from hating his guts to him destroying yours— guess that’s one way you can end a burning hatred for someone.
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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago
Text
andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)
a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.
note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.
series masterlist
18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!
Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.
The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 
But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 
He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 
Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 
“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 
Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 
“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”
“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”
It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 
“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”
“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”
“Alright. Got your phone handy?”
It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.
“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”
Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 
Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 
He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 
But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.
So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 
Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 
Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 
Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 
So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 
“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”
He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 
“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”
She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 
“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 
She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 
But god, does he think about you like that. 
His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 
Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—
He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 
Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 
But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.
“Found it okay?” 
Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 
There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 
It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.
At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 
But. 
That’s all contingent. 
No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 
The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.
In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 
Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 
And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 
The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.
Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 
If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.
And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 
Not again. 
But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.
Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 
Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 
It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 
He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 
The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 
I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 
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teaboot · 4 months ago
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how are you both bisexual and asexual. are you also both autistic and neurotypical? are you both trans and cis too? please help me out here
okay so first off I don't think you meant this to come off as confrontational, so in the future please do keep in mind that these are highly personal questions. I don't actually owe anyone this information
So, sexual attraction and romantic attraction are different things. Someone who is asexual may desire a romantic relationship with someone, while someone who is aromantic may desire a sexual relationship with someone.
Alternatively, someone who is AroAce may desire strong, intimate connections that have nothing to do with sex OR romance.
So someone who is romantically attracted to all genders but sexually attracted to nobody may be more accurately described as "Biromantic / Panromantic Asexual", but that's a bit of a mouthful and uses terminology and concepts a lot of people don't get so they may just say they're ace and bi.
I've known for a long time that I'm asexual, that one was relatively easy. Romantic attraction, I've found, is harder to evaluate because "deep, intimate friendship" and "romance" have a lot of overlap and are difficult to distinguish.
For a long time, I thought, "I feel the same level of attraction to all genders, so I must be bi or pan". It just so happens that that level of sexual attraction was zero.
(Apparently this is a fairly common experience.)
Also, not entirely what you asked, but recently I've come to the realization that I may be Aromantic as well as Asexual- I may just experience aesthetic attraction to all genders, which is a third thing, in which you can see someone and go "Ohhhhhhh my god you're so fuckin cool and pretty I'm dying" but not actually really wanna do anything about it.
And since I may be aesthetically attracted to all genders, romantically attracted to like 5 people ever, and sexually attracted to nobody, I could go around saying, "Yeah I'm an asexual demiromantic with panaesthetic attraction", confusing half the people I talk to and sounding like a queer zoomer in a conservative political cartoon, I could also just say, "yeah I'm ace and bi" or "I'm queer" and keep the rest to myself.
Also, while I openly use he/him pronouns now and for the last couple years, growing up I thought for about a decade that I was Genderfluid and I'm still pretty attached to the Genderqueer identity, so trans and cis isn't really the reach you may think it is.
So, yeah. Autistic, Asexual, Bi, Trans.
But I've found that my personal identity is less like a business card and more like a witness statement.
Any wordier than you need to be, and you start giving the opposition room to poke holes.
"Queer", though. Queer is good
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chxrryhansen · 10 months ago
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2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).   
-💎
ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.
rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.
rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.
“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.
“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.
“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”
you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”
he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.
“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.
“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”
a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.
rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.
“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.
he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.
“cum.”
he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”
your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”
rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.
your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.
“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.
he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”
if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.
“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”
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astrow0rldx · 2 months ago
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pac 18+ their sexual desires for you
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one
"In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day. Fuckin' and fightin' on It's our paradise and it's our war zone It's our paradise and it's our war zone". could be in a relationship already, or they desire to court you, take you on a date, outside walking, living together, cutesy romantic things. someone could have hurt someone, now they want to fight you back sexually. or just hurt you in the bedroom, mentally and physically. they could desire you to be this siren coquette person, where your mysterious and don't show to much affection or care for them. play mind games on them. which may be your reaction to getting hurt, or what's hurting them. but at the end of the day they want to feel tied to you, committed to you and your where home is. a lot of people have that taste in relationships, where they don't want all of them unconsciously, but they want them to be theirs. but this fight in the bedroom, is going to be chaotic, and may want to use handcuffs, ropes, etc. even risky sex where it's so much fire passion you have a baby, now you are trapped. they could want to keep this relationship professional, or surface level in a sense, take it as it resonates. they want to fuck and argue like married couples though, but them being the one you come to too fuck on a bad day and you come to them about all your problems. any type of psychological problems you have, they want to fuck it out of you, they want to see it come out while your fucking, they want to fuck you in the state of being so hurt and broken you don't even want to fuck. but whats coming through strongly is the surface level, mysteriousness, detachment, & professionalism of the connection, the conflict and heartbreak of it, and realizations that is prominent in their sexual desires.
two
they could be dreaming about you, delusional, fantasizing. trying to control and tame themself because you are so fucking sexy. they could be thinking about undressing you and exploring your body. they could desire foreplay, going out to eat, or making food for you. kissing, making out, hugging, on top, bodies together then he gets to slowly undress you. you could be kind of perfect to them, or like they met their match. because they have a lot of ideas, and imaginary energy when it comes to you. in an animalistic, passionate way. they desire to uncover your mystery, see your wild side. exchange kinks. see how you would look with their dick in you mouth. see what it would be like if y'all started a competitive, bratty game and fucked till both of you guys was timed out, but the sex be so playful, expressing, fun, and bright. they want to balance their emotional side with their sexual side. after care, dates, making food for you, helping you with your clothes. even making family stuff, mom/dad/kid involved. them being the daddy. my advice, that outside of the question, make them wait lol. be more teasing till the finish line.
three
im getting a vibe of we about to get some shit straight type of sex. you don't know what i'm going to do to you when i see you. maybe for some they are proving their loyalty and how much they are standing on business for you. when you get inside the bed they are going to be persistent, long lasting, stamina. very excited to see you, celebratory sex. the adrenaline of like sneaky link type of sex "this shit feel like teenage fever". "who came to make sweet love..not me. when we... fuck". they say but they desire to transform something with this sex, maybe they desire to come back into contact with you and kind of hesitant, but they desire you. for most of you they kind of want to be in and out of your life, coming and going when they please and you still being (one) of their girls. but they want both parties to be chill on their own in their own life. but for some it is an energy of being no contact, or at a distance. maybe needing some type of travel, or time and building to get to a certain place. and they kind of desire the ability to be at peace with you. they could desire helping you in a certain way, financially, sexually, or just with love when your feeling a lack of it and be each other peace of mind/sex. bring peace and material abundance so you can be good on your own feeling satisfied.
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lunarsilver · 1 month ago
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What are their sexual fantasies?
18+, minors do not interact
A reading regarding your partner - your current one (asking about their permission would be in good taste), or next one, or the most important one, or your future spouse... Whatever you prefer.
(Psst! I will be grateful for your answer to a simple question.)
REMEMBER
I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.
It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.
If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.
Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason for making it.
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1 ~ 2 ~ 3
PILE 1
Six of Swords - Strength (R) - Three of Wands (R) - Back of the Deck: Knight of Swords (R)
Six of Swords literally fell out as I was shuffling, which suggests to me this one is pretty important. Six of Swords is about change, leaving something behind and going on new endeavors. It looks like they’re really eager to try something new, maybe their earlier experience with intimacy wasn’t the best for them. Then we have Strength in reverse which seems to confirm that they felt or feel kind of trapped, and they fantasize about lashing out their raw emotions. The deck I use does not have a sexual theme, but this specific card has one of the most sensual imagery among all the cards in this deck: a woman, full of confidence, poses in just heels and lower underwear, a bra tossed aside. She’s very flexible and has a snake tattoo on her leg. I think your person wishes to be so flexible and confident in their body. The imagery brings a strip club or a sexy dance for a partner to my mind, and while there is a chance your person would like to see someone doing this kind of act (I guess going to a club like this would fit the theme of trying something new), for most this card is simply about having the courage to embrace one’s body and desires. Reversed Three of Wands says this person experiences some delays, some problems on their way to express themselves, and this leads to frustration. Knight of Swords in reverse confirms that. Your person is pretty frustrated sexually, and for some reason is unable to take action. As a side note, both Six of Swords and Knight of Swords in this deck show swords, so maybe some people here would like to try knife play? What’s interesting is that, in the way they lie now, all these swords point in the same direction, but what is exactly this direction? That’s unclear. Let’s pick up some more cards.
I asked for the reason why your person cannot fulfill themselves sexually and why they feel frustrated, and the cards are Seven of Swords (R), King of Cups, The Tower (R) and at the back there is Six of Cups. To put it short, it looks like they have this mental blockage. They may feel like they aren’t worthy of it, or it simply doesn’t fit them. For some, they grew up taught to think about sexuality as something shameful. I think the King of Cups represents them, and if so, they look really lovely and in tune with their emotions. They are at the start of their personal transformation and rediscovering what they like. No specific fantasies came here in this reading, other than the desire to have the courage to try to do what they are or may be into. It could be good to create a safe space for them, tell them that if they want to try something, you may always discuss it together. Whether you’ll actually do it is another matter, but letting them know having sexual desires isn’t shameful is pretty important here.
PILE 2
The Tower (R) - The Hierophant (R) - Two of Wands (R) - Three of Cups - Back of the Deck: Knight of Wands
Only after I realized I pulled four cards instead of three, I guess they have a lot to say lol. We’re starting with The Tower in reverse, so your person wants some inner change. The Hierophant in reverse is about questioning the rules, about freedom. Your person fantasizes about exploring, most likely about doing some kinky stuff. They’re excited about it, they want to do it, but they’re not ready and lack a proper plan or preparation (Two of Wands in reverse). However, it is clear they fantasize about celebrating their and their partner(s) bodies, treating sex as fun, as shown in Three of Cups. For some, Three of Cups suggests them fantasizing about threesomes. A side note, but a lot of cards show some pets, some on a leash, and I cannot help but wonder whether your person fantasizes about some kind of pet play. I think the reversed Knight of Wands at the back represents your person: impulsive, ready to action, fiery and with high libido, but probably they should do some research first. I felt like pulling some charms, asking what this person has to tell you, and the messages are “it will be better”, “I am with you”, “you are a master” (or maybe they want to say you are their master; whether “the master of their heart” or a master as in a BDSM dynamic - I feel like for quite a lot of you, pile 2, your person is a proud bottom, maybe a power bottom or a little a brat lol), “do what you love”, “you can count on me” and “fresh perspective”.
PILE 3
Ten of Cups - The Empress - Knight of Cups - Back of the Deck: The Magician
Okay, all upright, three out of four cards show people, two Major Arcana and two cards of Cups, plus three out of four cards are mainly pink and red. This person knows what they want and they like to be as clear as possible, they’re emotional and aren’t ashamed of it, that’s what I get right off the bat. Ten of Cups shows they’re pretty romantic, they fantasize about an ideal, fulfilling, committed relationship. The Empress and Knight of Cups represent you and this person - and I feel like for most of you, you are represented by the Empress and they are Knight of Cups, given how romantic and emotional Knight of Cups is, and how romantic is your person. The Empress and Knight of Cups look at each other from their respective cards. They look tenderly, smiling a little, and their eyes are on the same level. This person clearly fantasizes about an equal relationship, where at the same time they can adore you and spoil you. The Magician at the back suggests they manifest this relationship. Like, your person is so sweet, I asked about sexual fantasies and all that came out is that they want love. As an afterthought, the Empress is the only card having different colors than the rest, which only further proves the rest of cards is their energy and the Empress is you. I asked for some messages from your person to you and pulled out these charms: “I’ve been looking for you everywhere :*”, “I love your smile”, “something nice will happen to you”, “it makes me want to live”.
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walpu · 10 months ago
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I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots
I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao
nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine
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characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.
Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.
I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.
He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.
Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.
And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.
Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.
He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.
Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.
So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.
Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.
If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.
"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.
He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.
In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.
And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.
If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.
Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.
A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.
I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.
May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.
Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.
Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.
Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.
Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.
Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.
Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.
Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.
Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.
Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.
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mountainsandmayhem · 5 months ago
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BDSMaid - Chapter 3
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Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader
Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni
Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.
Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.
CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.
WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!
AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.
Series Masterlist || My Masterist
I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.
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Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.
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The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing. 
If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin. 
One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club. 
 The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about. 
Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met. 
The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud. 
After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.
As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me. 
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On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home. 
Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it. 
Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again. 
Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.
Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.
  When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.  
You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone. 
Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste. 
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Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time. 
She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”
You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement. 
You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”
The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”
His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”
You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.
“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.
“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”
The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”
Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”
He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants. 
“You can’t even say it.” He challenges. 
You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive. 
“I can too!” 
He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?” 
You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”
“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.
“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.” 
Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”
Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?” 
Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.
His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.” 
You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.” 
He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”
“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”
“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.
You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”
“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”
You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”
Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”
“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”
 “I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated. 
“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.” 
He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.” 
Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle. 
It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask,  “Am I not attractive enough for you?”
“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”
You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?” 
“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours. 
His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”
He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”
Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”
He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.” 
“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.” 
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Joel
The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.
His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream. 
Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.   
His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.  
His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”
Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.” 
Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years. 
“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”
Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo. 
“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”
Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him. 
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You 
You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night. 
Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!” 
“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.
Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”
“You sound like you're out of breath.” 
You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.” 
Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”
“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.” 
“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs. 
“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?” 
She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”
“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?” 
“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”
You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”
“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?” 
Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 
“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.” 
“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!” 
“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”
“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.
“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes. 
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Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.  
Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops. 
You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself. 
The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.
As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile. 
Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo. 
As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man. 
You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning. 
Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.  
From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.
Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” 
You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve. 
On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it. 
Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.
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When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear. 
After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.    
You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.
You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in. 
Spanking, five. 
Whips and Crops, five. 
Paddles, five. 
Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point. 
Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 
Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel. 
The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied. 
Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”
You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”
“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.
A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours. 
“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.
Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.
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The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”
Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”
A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.
“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”
Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”
You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you. 
“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call. 
“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.
“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears. 
“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”
Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs. 
Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller. 
His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.
“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel. 
“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.
“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.
He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”
“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.
“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.
“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”
As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?
The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.
Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”
He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”
You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”
“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”
You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”
Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.
Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”
You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”
“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”
This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”
Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”
“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”
He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.
“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”
You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”
His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”
He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”
You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”
Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”
You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”
Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”
“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.
He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.
“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his. 
“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.
Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”
He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”
The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.
He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”
Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.
“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.
“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault  the inside of your stomach.
You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.
“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips. 
“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you. 
“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.
Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”
Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on. 
His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently. 
“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”
He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”
With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives. 
You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.
Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging. 
His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”
He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”
He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table. 
“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.
You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”
It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”
You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.
You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms. 
You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.
‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’
Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.
“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”
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vivmaek · 1 year ago
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LOVE & SEX: ASTRO OBSERVATIONS (18+)
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Happy Scorpio season everyone!
Sagittarius Risings are the best at flirting. I may be biased considering that I’m a Gemini Rising, but I stand by my opinion. They know how to evade small talk and make people melt through their warmth and charm. Sagittarius Risings can be cocky, but this serves them well when trying to gain romantic attention. Confidence is sexy. They keep things light hearted and fun. Their commitment issues add a layer of excitement to their relationships, they’re often pursued by multiple people at once. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
A Cancer Venus or Mars could spend the entire day in bed with their partner. They blend cuddles, foreplay, and sex into long sessions that seemingly have no end.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Those who have their Sun in the third house can carry out a long-distance relationship successfully. A strong sense of imagination keeps the relationship alive within their head. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
People who have Mars in the sixth house need to find a partner who is spontaneous. Their sex life might start to feel like a routine and they’ll become bored. Sex is important to these individuals, it has to remain exciting if these types are going to settle down. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Someone with Mars opposite to their Ascendant might find that they give more than they receive within their sexual relationships. They might participate in sexual activities just to appease their partner. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
A Scorpio Mars might have secret sex fantasies that make them feel ashamed. They also probe into the sex life of their partners through pointed questions. This does not come from a place of curiosity, if they start doing this it's because they feel possessive and jealous. They want to be the best their partner has ever had. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Individuals with Mars in the first house have the best stamina, hands down. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
An Aquarius Venus is always getting caught up within the most complicated romantic endeavors. They’re the first to claim that they’re easy-going and just want to fall in love with their best friend. When in reality, they’re avoidant and uncomfortable with conventional romantic affection. They’re delusional for thinking this isn’t going to cause issues. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
People with a Pisces Venus will toy around with multiple people at once and then they’ll have the audacity to become confused when one of their partners finds out and is upset. Their love and affection for others is innocent. They’re just following their heart, and if it leads them into the arms of multiple people, so be it. Unlike other water venus placements, a Pisces Venus is not possessive over their lovers, they’re just here for the vibe. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Capricorn Ascendants are incredibly classy. Dating them feels like a high-end experience. They know how to treat their partners right. They show up on time and are always appropriately dressed for the occasion. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
People who have a Libra Sun placed within the tenth house find it difficult to balance their love life and career. It seems that these two areas of life are always in conflict with one another. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Individuals who have their Sun placed within the first house are honest and straightforward, they don’t play around with people and they do everything they can to avoid hurt feelings. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Taurus Moons like to eat before sex. If they didn’t get a chance to do this, they’ll get up and make themselves a sandwich immediately afterwards. They’ll make one for their partner too ofc ;) They are very attentive when it comes to aftercare, they’ll help their partner get dressed and will make sure all their emotional needs are being met. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
People who have Venus conjuncting their Ascendant end up in relationships with ease, but these relationships also end just as quickly as they started.  
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The sexual endeavors of someone with Mars in the tenth house are publicly known. Their nudes may get leaked, and their past partners like to brag about shared sexual experiences. 
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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 3 months ago
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Question for the artist, whats the parameters for drawing fusion fanart? Because a lot of people see it as a romanic thing, but it isnt always that. For example, are you okay with fans drawing steven fused the crystal gems? Are you okay with fans drawing any fusions including CG, or is that an ick?
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Okay, SO. I apologize for answering this late - I was trying to find the correct way to reply to this ask without coming off as someone extremely senile and jaded.
First things first - I really appreciate you taking my feelings into consideration on this! I can tell it comes from a place of genuine kindness and caring, and I think that's awesome.
I'm not unfamiliar with the fact that some artists feel very protective of their characters, and sometimes try to lay down rules about how they are to be viewed, how they are to be drawn by others, etc. So I don't blame you at all for assuming this is something that needs to be done, given the current fandom environment in certain spaces.
That all being said.
This idea that drawing characters in Situations Which May Be Uncomfortable To Someone With A Specific Interpretation Of The Media (which is not at all supported by canon text) is transgressive is..... boy...... that's not a good one.
It is..... Extremely Evangelical in its conception.
Guys. GUYS. Thought crime isn't a crime. ART isn't a crime.
But to answer your question -
Yes, you can absolutely draw Steven - WD!AU Steven - fusing with the gems or CG.
Yes, you can absolutely draw CG fusing with Steven or the Crystal Gems, etc.
Because
Even if someone DID assume fusion was romantic primarily, that doesn't mean it should be the default, and in fact it ISN'T. Many, MANY fusions in the show are not representative of romantic relationships.
Canon Steven, in the Canon show, fused with TONS of people he didn't have romantic feelings for. Most of the people, outside of Connie, for a start.
Even if imagining CG in a romantic relationship with the Crystal Gems DOES give me the 'ick' (which, actually, yeah, it kinda does I guess, given that I can't really see that thing happening given that she's effectively (not LITERALLY) a child) that doesn't mean YOUR art has to be limited by my presumptions of what fusion means in this context, if we disagree on it
And not to put too fine a point on it but
Fusion ISN'T inherently about romance.
Fusion ISN'T inherently sexual!
No part of the show supports either of these ideas. Fusion is and always has been explicitly about various types of RELATIONSHIPS - including things like sibling bonds (Smokey Quartz), parent-child relationships (Steg, Steven and ANY of the CGs), friendships, Unhealthy Control-Seeking (Malachite) and just straight up collaborative murder (a la Aquamarine and Ruby).
Yes, some fusions ARE inherently romantic in nature, but that does not mean ALL fusions adhere to these rules. In fact, MOST fusions aren't even about that.
And even if they were.............we're all allowed to express our OWN interpretation of things using art. That's not an Ungood Thought that you should be shamed for.
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thank you for coming to my ted talk
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thestarrynightslover · 7 months ago
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The Trials of Dating in Secrecy
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Word count: 2,374
Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, workplace romance, nudity, and verbal sexual harassment (all very light).
Summary: Okay, so this one features a bit of work issues (workplace romance), and a bit of jealous!Harvey + Harvey taking care of his girl, as requested by Anon.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: Well this is the first request I took and I’ll admit that it was a bit challenging, not cause it was particularly hard but because I wasn’t super inspired at first, nor did I have the time. Though, now, I think it worked? Idk, don’t feel like this was my best work either but feel free to leave some feedback, and thanks for reading!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
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“Seriously, Harvey!” You let out annoyed. “I think I should probably go home now,” you said, thinking that if you did go home you could keep yourself from saying something you might regret later. 
“Oh, really? So now you're mad at me because I’m simply asking a bit more of this relationship?” He asked, looking ready to have a full-on fight.
“No, Harvey! What I’m actually upset about is how you’re making today all about yourself and your needs, when I’m the one going through it all!” You really didn’t wanna shout but the little bit of patience you had left vanished when his questions reminded you of the little stunt he’d pulled today.
Earlier that day, at the firm, you had been giving a consult to a prospective client on an intellectual property lawsuit he may be looking at and the guy seemed a bit disinterested in his own situation, giving you — and by you, you mean your body — most of his attention. But that was fineish, it was a regular occurrence, being a young woman in that field, so you didn’t really mind it anymore, at this point — after all, ignoring the occasional sexual harassment was usually the easiest route to advancing in your career. The problem was that the man started interrupting your professional analysis to hit on you, and eventually, he reached for your forearm, caressing it as he spoke. And that was exactly when Harvey, the man you’d secretly been dating for about 7 months now, decided to walk into your office. As he entered your office, you yanked your arm out of the man’s grasp but you couldn’t shut him up just as quickly, so your boyfriend got there just in time to hear a “So, if you really like yourself a sturdy stallion,” he pointed at a framed picture of you riding a horse on the wall behind you, “you should ride mine, someday. If you know what I mean,” he finalized with a wink, and how on Earth could you — or anyone hearing that — not know what he meant when he had said it so suggestively? 
“What did you just say to her?” Harvey’s voice came sharply, indicating he was about to get into a fistfight with the man who was probably not going to be your client now.
“Oh, we’re just chatting about- uh, who are you, again?” The shorter guy had the nerve to ask.
After that, Harvey was so quick to hoist the man up from the chair in front of you, by the collar of his dress shirt, that you didn’t even have time to react before he started punching the guy right in the face.
“I’m her boyfriend, that’s who I am! And you will be out of here before I take you out myself.” The man didn’t fall backward solely because Harvey had a hold on him, still, so he just stared at the other attorney in shock. “What are you looking at? Get out!” Harvey shouted once again, tossing the man towards your office door.
After that, you tried calming Harvey down but you barely had any time for it before Jessica and Louis barged into your office, revolted by their partner’s behavior and asking what had gotten into him to attack a prospective client like that.
“The prick was propositioning my-” But you cut him off before he could complete his sentence.
“He was harassing me during the meeting, and Harvey walked in and heard it, and, as a good colleague, he wanted to defend my honor, I guess,” you said with a short, humorless laugh while making air quotes with your fingers.
“A good colleague?” The tall senior partner asked quietly, hurt pooling in his eyes.
“Well… That’s terrible but you know better than to do this, Harvey,” Jessica told him.
“You know, I’d never thought I’d see the day you would act like such a caring gentleman for anyone, Specter,” Louis added, as always, eager to make things worse. “And, (y/n), at the very least you need to reach out to that man and take him out to an apology dinner. Because you are well aware of how important it is for you to get more clients.”
“Yes, I-” You stopped what you were saying mid-sentence because the man you loved was storming out of your office and all you wanted to do was chase after him.
“And now you’re gonna let him get off with that shit he pulled this easy?” Louis shouted, obviously trying to be heard by Harvey too. “I mean, this firm is turning into a complete mess, Jessica! It’s like you can’t control your office anymore! A junior partner who barely has her own clients and a senior partner battering prospective clients? We’re gonna go bankrupt like this, if not sued for malpractice altogether! And-”
“Louis, will you shut up, for God’s sake? I’m the managing partner and I’ll deal with both of them. Now go and let me talk to (y/n) alone!” Your boss responded, making you apprehensive about the conversation you were about to have with her.
As he left the room, Jessica motioned for you to sit on the couch with her. “(y/n), first of all, are you okay? Because if that man did something to you, then…”
“No, no! The harassment was just verbal,” not that that made it any better, you thought to yourself. “Harvey intervened before it could get to that.”
“Right. Well, that’s a relief.” She paused for an instant, giving one of those smiles she used when she was going to convince you of something unpleasant. “Now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Louis is right. You need more clients. I didn’t think it’d be good to tell you this after our conversation but the board has been pressuring me about making personnel cuts. Directed mostly to the partners who aren’t producing much. And you know that I like your work, and see your value to the company but those old men in suits only care about numbers, so if you don’t manage to bring in a new client by the end of the week… I am going to push for you to go after that man’s account again. Using whatever means necessary.” She declared, still sporting that smile. “Are we clear?”
At that, a defeated “Yes, Jessica” was all you could mutter. And then she left. And all you could think about was how you’d somehow managed to screw up both your professional and personal life, all at once.
Leaving work that day, after setting up four meetings with potential clients for the following days, all you could think about was making up with Harvey, so you went to his place to talk. And that’s how you got to the argument you were having now. He was upset about the whole ‘good colleague’ thing and you were upset because you could have handled the situation without burning that bridge with the guy, which was multiplied by ten when you remembered that you were on deadline to get more clients — something you hadn’t told Harvey.
“Making it all about-” He’d started saying angrily but stopped himself and his voice instantly took on a soft, caring tone, “wait, what do you mean you’re going through it all?”
Now you realized what you’d said.
“Uh, I meant nothing. I was just being dramatic, is all,” you stated unconvincingly.
“No, that doesn’t make any sense. If anyone is dramatic in this relationship, it’s me and we both know it,” he said, making you crack a small smile, thinking of how right he was. “So tell me, honey, what’s going on?”
“I, um, I’m being encouraged, or, better said, ordered to expand my client list.” There, you’d said it.
“What? Why?”
“You know why, Harvey. You just can’t be a partner at the firm if you don’t bring enough money in.” You told him, defeated.
“But… but you’re so good! You bring such good attention to the company’s name, your clients might actually be more satisfied with your work than mine, and they are very satisfied with my work,” he said matter-of-factly with a grin on his face.
“Yeah, maybe. But you might not know this because you've always been a man and Jessica’s protégé but for the rest of us, women trying to be successful at Pearson, the bar is just much higher, babe. And they're threatening to take away my partnership, maybe even my job altogether, if I don't get it done,” you finally finished your confession with teary eyes, even though you didn’t want to cry about it.
“That’s… that’s just unacceptable!” He let out, running his hands through his hair, “Did- does Jessica know about that? Because I can-” He tried to go on with his speech but you cut him off.
“She knows, Harvey. She says she likes my work but her hands are tied.” You let him know, sighing a little.
“But… that’s not… that doesn’t make any sense! It’s just not like Jessica to give in like that…” Harvey commented, starting to look defeated as well.
“Maybe when it’s about someone like you. But with me? She might not even be trying all that hard.” To which he responded with a mischievous glint in his eyes, perking up.
“Then, I’ll talk to her! I’ll tell her that, if she doesn’t secure your place in the company, I’m going to start listening to those offers I get all the time!” He said smiling widely this time.
“Harvey! You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’d be incredibly stupid, and unprofessional, and-” You didn’t wanna finish your sentence but you had to. “And, that way, she’ll know.”
“Know?”
“About us. That we’re dating,” you finished sighing again.
“She’ll kn-” he stopped mid-sentence, full of disbelief. “And what’s so wrong with that?”
“Harvey…”
“No, don’t ‘Harvey’ me, (y/n)! If you don’t want me to help because it’d be unprofessional, then that’s okay. I can understand that. But what exactly are you trying to tell me, huh? That our relationship’s never gonna see the light of day? Or are you trying to break up with me?” That last question came out of him in such a low tone you could barely believe had come from him.
“No! Of course I don’t wanna break up-”
“Then tell me what do you want? Because I don’t understand why I can’t tell the world that I’m your boyfriend. I don’t get what’s so wrong about your boyfriend telling off a prick who can’t keep his hands to himself around another man’s woman-”
“Do you seriously think now is a good time to be possessive?”
“Oh, honey, I am possessive by nature. Especially around you,” he stated coming closer to where you were standing. And you could do nothing but welcome his warmth, after all, it’d been a long day.
As you stepped fully into his embrace and rested your head on his chest, you told him “I love you, Harvey. I don’t wanna break up with you. And I want you to tell the world that I’m your girlfriend, even Jessica,” hearing that, his eyes lit up. “But, as much of a prick as that man was, you need to understand that I can handle myself and that you need to give me space to make my own way at work, just like you made yours.”
“You’re right.”
“I know,” you joked, trying to shrug your shoulders at him.
“And I won’t try to interfere at work anymore. But don’t think that I’m just gonna stand around doing nothing if I see someone trying to mess with my girl again.”
“Well, that-”
“I’m not done yet,” he said, silencing you in an instant, “you should also know that, when you’re home with me, you’re mine to take care of.”
“Yeah? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You asked him with a smug smile.
His only response was swiftly picking you up and taking you to his suite’s bathroom, where he gently sat you down on the edge of the tub, just to start running the hot water into the bath he’d already filled with delicious-smelling bathing salts. “Wait here, baby.”
A bit later he came back carrying some candles he started lighting with one of the matches from a box he had in his other hand.
“What are you doing, Harv?”
“Just come over here,” he said after having spread the candles all throughout his spacious bathroom. They were scented too, you noticed. The second you reached him, though, instead of holding you close, he started taking off your clothes, slow and gentle, piece by piece. Which he followed up with little kisses all over your now bare skin. After being satisfied with his work of making you forget everything, he picked you up again and, this time, carefully dipped you into the bathtub. “Now, you just lay back and relax, darling.”
“You’re not joining me?” You asked him hopefully.
“No, I’m taking care of your dinner,” right after he left, though, one of your favorite songs started playing softly on a speaker he’d set somewhere.
You probably dozed off in that tub, because before you knew it you were being held by your boyfriend in his bed, still completely naked. “Hey.”
“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you with a grin, “you know, you were taking so long to wake up, that I was starting to think that the breakfast I made you was gonna get cold.”
“Wait a second, last night you were making me dinner and this morning you made me breakfast… two for two! What’s happening to you?” You asked, giggling like a child.
“Nothing, nothing! It’s just… I told you, at home, I take care of you, that’s all.” He told you while he guided you out of the bed, handing you one of his shirts altogether. 
“You know, you keep saying ‘at home’ but this isn’t really our home…” As you put on his dress shirt, you followed him towards his living room. 
“It could be…” And that’s when you saw a set of keys at the dinner table by the cutlery.
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