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aliteralsemicolon · 4 months

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Malicious Compliance - 18+

Spencer’s job has been hogging more of his time than usual, leaving you neglected, frustrated and bratty. He makes up for it by ever-so-kindly giving you exactly what you asked for.

Spencer Reid X AFAB! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW. It contains strong themes and detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact! You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Smut, penetration, PinV, word porn, no mention of protection/unprotected sex, use of pet names, BDSM elements (details in spoilers), basically just straight up word p0rn with almost no artistic licence and a sprinkle of fluff. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 7.2K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Do people ever get so pent up that everything their partner does becomes provocative? Their mind begins looking for any signs to give their body a reason for release, even if those signs are entirely made-up. And every time they’re denied that release, the desire that previously coursed through their veins becomes frustration.

It fills them until there’s no room left for it inside of them, pushing their limits, like water pressure challenging the confinement of a pipe. Eventually the pressure becomes too much for the pipe to handle. Just a little bit more pressure and that pipe inevitably bursts.

You don’t think you’ve ever been more frustrated in your life. Maybe it’s an exaggeration but sitting here, barely two feet away from your boyfriend, watching him flip through his work files might be the last amount of pressure you can handle before your pipe bursts.

Even if you somehow manage to compose yourself, you know you’ll burst not long from now. You can’t really blame yourself. It’s been almost two full weeks since you’ve had any sort of release. Scratch that, it’s been almost two full weeks since Spencer’s even properly acknowledged your presence.

You haven’t even bothered to try and hide your shameless ogling. Not once has he looked up in your direction. So you continue to stare at the way his fingers slide down every page as his mind absorbs the information, turning the page before you even blink.

They move so elegantly. You trace the veins on his hands with your eyes. They’d look so nice wrapped around your thro - Lord, you can’t do this. Taking a deep breath, you decide it’s time to alert him of your presence.

“Spence?” Not mentioning that your presence has been lingering for almost half an hour. No response. How oblivious does he have to be? “Spencer?”

“Hm?” Even when you finally get a response, it’s barely a half-hearted one. Not even a glance up.

“You wanna take a small break? You’ve been going through that same file for ages now.” You attempt to fuel a conversation anyway.

“Can’t.”

You want to be upset, you really do, but your eyes are locked in on his fingers working that damn paper. Your mind wanders to all the times they slid along your thighs, just like that. Knees squeezing against each other to try and suppress the electric jolt that just ran up in between your thighs.

“Do you want me to order you some food?” You try to distract yourself from your current predicament, by focusing on your boyfriend’s well-being instead.

“No thank you. Just order for yourself.” There was really no point in trying when Spencer entered this headspace, it was almost impossible to get him out of it.

“I’m going out tonight, remember? Going clubbing with my friends?” Was he really so focused that he wasn’t even aware of your plans? Plans that you made infront of him this morning, by the way.

“That’s great Honey.”

Yes, you suppose he really was.

This was basically another rejection in a long list of rejections from the past two weeks. You doubt that he was even aware. That desire surging through you just a second ago morphed to frustration once again. In an attempt to let it be known, you blow out an annoyed huff as you get up from your seat.

No response.

The problem wasn’t that he was busy because of his job. You knew his job, you completely understood when he had to leave home at bizarre times. The problem was that he had been bringing his job home with him. It was hard enough to have his attention when he was actually at work, now you had to fight for it in your own home?

You make your way around the couch and sneak up on him from behind, resting your arms on his shoulders. Starting from the top of his head, you begin planting small kisses down his face until you reach his ear.

“Spence, c’mon you’ve been doing this for hours.” He leans back towards you, bringing the file with him, but keeping his eyes - and fingers - on that file. Seriously?

“Honey, I really can’t right now. You should start getting ready now for your plans.” Wow so he was aware. You should be elated, those were the most words you’d gotten out of him all week.

A dazed exhale escaped him when you nibbled on his ear. His head rolled back, giving you room to keep kissing down his neck. He slightly turns his head towards you and his hand captures your jaw in a light grip. It pulls you away from him, his voice calls out your name in a stern tone.

“Stop that, I said I’m busy. Go get ready.” His eyes remain on the page the whole time.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You think. Your eyes roll on their own volition at the same time as you start to walk away.

“I saw that.” He warns.

“So do something about it.” You scoff in annoyance.

You’re actually hopeful that maybe he will do something about it. You remained hopeful for almost an hour while you got ready. Your hair gorgeously styled, seductive makeup enhancing your best features and now as you browse through your closet for a suitable dress to wear, there’s still no Spencer in sight.

You find a dress and make your way towards the dresser to see if it completes the look. You press the hanger against your shoulders, scanning from your neck-line down to your legs and unintentionally look towards your underwear drawer.

Just a few weeks ago, you were out shopping and were innocently asking for his opinion on a new set of lingerie you liked. When you hopped out of the dressing room to show him he didn’t even stop to look at it before he hauled your ass right back behind the curtain and re-dressed you himself.

Spencer may be the sweetest man alive, there’s no doubt about that, but most people don’t know that he’s possessive as hell. An idea pops into your head when you recall that he still hasn’t properly seen the under-wear.

You dig out the brand new set and take a second to admire how well it compliments your assets. You put the dress on over the lingerie and have to admit, you look really good. Anybody with half a brain could tell what you were wearing under the dress. Spencer would never let you leave the house like this, but he’d have to look at you first if he wants to stop you.

It’d be a shame if Spencer didn’t bother to pry his eyes away from his file so he could stop you. What would he do if he realised you’d been dancing around all night in nothing but a tiny dress that barely covers the promiscuous cloth under it? Not to mention the attached stockings it’s entirely unable to hide.

He’d spank you red, that’s what he’d do.

Either way, you’re going to get laid tonight. You get closer to the mirror by leaning into the dresser and spritz a few drops of your signature perfume around your pulse points. There’s still plenty of time left before you actually have to leave, but if you stay any longer you’re going to go insane watching Spencer use his fingers on anything other than yourself. You just need to get your keys from the kitchen counter, put on your shoes and you’re ready to go.

“I’m leaving now.” You yell out to Spencer. You don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s still sitting where you left him.

And yet again, no response. “How many files does he have in that satchel?” You wonder.

You reach for the keys on the counter and just as you grab them, Spencer’s hands surprise you by grabbing your waist. You almost squeal at the sudden contact. “Where do you think you’re going, hm?” His arms cross around your waist.

“Oh so you do remember I exist?” You snark, trying to play it cool.

You can’t let him have the upper hand just because he’s finally paying attention. He snakes a hand down to your thighs and lifts your dress up slightly, his body pushing against yours. He doesn’t even bother to comment on the jab you took at him.

“You still can’t respond properly.” You try for a response again.

Before you can comprehend his movements he’s stepped back and swung you around, his hands pressing on your hips, pushing your ass against the counter. He drinks in the sight in front of him as his eyes travel down your figure and back up, meeting yours. His tongue darts out and swipes across his lips, in true Spencer fashion. He lifts you up to sit on the counter as he steps in between your legs, closing the distance between you.

“Let me rephrase,” there’s a fire behind his eyes when he speaks, tone levelled, finger creeping inside the stocking’s band. He pulls it away from your skin when he speaks,

“where do you think you’re going…”

and lets it go

“...wearing this?”

The elastic slaps your thigh and adds to the emphasises of his last word. The close proximity, his lingering scent, voice, touch - your core was beginning to light up. It was dumb to think that you could keep the upper hand. Spencer had complete power over you and he knew that.

“I asked you a question.”

You were still going to try and challenge him, despite knowing better than to keep him waiting. It’s only fair, considering how long he made you wait. And how it took you acting out to make him notice you.

“The club, silly. With my friends. You keep forgetting.” You coyly answer, wrapping your arms around him as you lean in.

He raises both his brows in amusement and maintains eye contact, keeping his voice low and gentle.

“I haven’t forgotten. I just wonder why you want everybody else there ogling you. Don’t even try to deny it. It would only take a few drinks before you start stumbling on your ass, displaying yourself for anyone who wants a peak.” His grip on your thigh tightens.

Spencer didn’t actually care about what you wore, as long as he was the only one who saw what was underneath it. Your current attire went against that.

It took everything in you to not crash your lips on him right then. You wanted to feel him so bad but you couldn’t, not just yet. You pull out your most doe-eyed pout, eye contact still in place.

“If I can’t get my own boyfriend to pay attention to me then I’m going to have to get that attention from somewhere else.” An empty threat, you both knew that. Nobody else's attention mattered to you.

“Have I really neglected you so much?” He swallowed, not even blinking as he stared back.

Maybe you’ve been reading the signals wrong. You expected anger or annoyance, but the man in front of you looks almost…apologetic? You lean your head back slightly so you can read his face better. His expression is entirely apologetic, causing you to soften your features as well.

“Spencer I didn’t mean-”

“I know you didn’t.” He cuts in before you can finish. “I’m asking if I’ve been too neglectful.”

His hands roam from your thighs to your waist from under your dress, his fingers massaging you. You can’t pick up on his mood. He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“I’ve been ignoring you. I’m sorry” He reaches for your forehead and gives you a kiss there too, before coming back down to your other cheek. “Let me make it up to you.”

You expected him to punish you for acting up, his soft demeanour was throwing you off entirely.

“Spence, it’s okay. You can finish your work. I have to leave soon anyways.” You lied, unsure of how to act.

“No you don’t. Even if you leave an hour from now, you’ll still make it on time.” He moves to your jaw, leaving a kiss there. You melt at his tender touch. “Let me make it up to you. Anything you want, just ask.” He insists.

You wanted to resist, to reassure him, to make him feel less guilty. It had just been so long and your head was getting so cloudy. His lips felt so, so good against your skin.

“Ask.” He whispers, his voice so painfully sweet.

Your hand runs through his hair, the other one dragging along his back lightly. He pushes his clothed, but clearly hard, length against you and a soft whimper finds its way out of you. He was clearly just as turned on as you were.

“Please fuck me Spencer. Make me cum. Please.”

He pulls your dress over your head and throws it somewhere on the floor, leaving you only in your lingerie and returns to your neck. The grip in his hair becomes slightly tighter as you grind against him. He takes this as permission, grabbing you by your legs to pull you as close to him as possible and takes you in a deep, hungry kiss. Another whimper leaves you, travelling from your mouth into his.

He glides his tongue against yours, arms tightly hugging your waist. You’re both heated, panting heavily as you kiss, grinding against one another. Before things go any further, he pulls away.

“You wanna cum?” He glides his hands all the way up your torso, cupping your jaw in his hands.

“Mhm,” You nod, cupping his wrists “Please.”

He gives you a clumsy peck.

“I can help you do that. Let’s get you to bed. I’ll make you come. Would you like that, Princess?” His voice sounds so raspy, he’s almost whispering.

You don’t entirely trust his sweet demeanour, he’s never this nice when you’ve broken as many rules as you have. But fuuuckkk. You were so turned on right now and he looks so beautiful.

“Yes please!” You enthusiastically bounce off the counter, kissing him as you start to walk backwards. He doesn’t let the kiss fully break, walking with you, your hands feeling whatever part of each other they could.

You manage to find your way to the bedroom with some minor collisions against furniture, giggling every time. Your motions come to a halt when you reach the edge of the bed, the kiss deepens again.

Your hands start fumbling with his shirt and he works his belt, functioning as quickly as you can to get him undressed. His boxers slide off and you can’t help but break the kiss again to gawk at his shaft. Fucking hell, you’d seen it so many times and it’s still just as pretty. He kisses your forehead and chuckles.

“Like what you see, Princess?”

You smile, biting your lip in response but not taking your eyes off his length. He lifts your head back up by hooking his finger under your chin to meet his gaze and he returns to your kiss. You reach around your back to unclasp your bra and he grabs it in the middle, pushing you down on the bed gently.

The mattress catches you, but your bra is ripped away in his grasp. Spencer remains standing over you, eyeing your figure beneath him as he discards the laced bra on the floor.

“Well Handsome, you gonna join me or what?”

This earns you another chuckle as he leans down towards you, the mattress dipping from his weight. You shuffle back on the bed together, sharing another passionate kiss on the way. Both of you refuse to break away until you finally reach a place you mutually decide is comfortable.

Or at least, til Spencer decided it was comfortable enough and yanked you towards him until both your cores were completely pressed against together.

The only thing restricting complete contact was a flimsy piece of fabric and it was barely enough, judging by the needy whine that you let out when the underside of his cock brushed against your heat.

“So wet. So pretty.” Spencer groaned, kissing his way down your neck again.

His hands freely roam up your body again, stopping to cup and knead your breasts. He takes his time using his mouth, sucking on the flesh as he makes his way down from your collarbones to my sternum.

This must be your punishment. You’ll have to leave the house covered with his markings on your skin, warning anyone else who even thinks about touching you, that you belong to him.

“Fuck, Spencer.” You breathe out in desperation and grind your hips against him, earning you a gravelly moan. Your hands come off the bed and back into his hair, trapping him against you without applying pressure so that he can move about as he pleases.

When he’s satisfied with the bruises he’s stained you with, he licks a path from your sternum to your left tit, leaving his hand to continue playing with your right one. He sucks, nibbles, kisses and licks your nipple all while pinching and rolling the other one between his fingers.

“Spence, please!” You gasp, unable to control your hips.

“Mmm, my needy little whore.” He mumbles and begins a trail of kisses back down your torso, stopping just above your mound, but abandoning the region altogether as he diverts his path to your thigh instead. You whine at his delay to satiate the fire that he ignited.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he coos “patience Princess.”

You whine harder and he pinches your nipple, earning him a yelp.

He continues his motions up your thigh, kissing all the way to your knee before switching legs and trailing back down from your knee to your thigh. Every kiss sends electricity through your core, hands still in his hair, following his head wherever it moves.

“As much as I love you, if you don’t stop teasing me I’m going to fucking lose it.” You interrupt his foreplay, deciding that he had done enough priming.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, and it sends chills through your spine. Your body jerks up in reaction and he takes this opportunity to slide off your panties, leaving you bare, save for your stockings.

Cold air hits your heat and before you have the time to adjust to the feeling, he runs his tongue up your slit, flattening it entirely to cover as much surface area as possible. A loud, rippled moan emerges out of you, arch intensifying. Your hands tighten the grip on his hair automatically.

“Fuuuccckkkk.” is all you can muster in that moment, your brain short-circuiting.

Spencer focuses the tip of his tongue at the edge of your entrance, sampling the taste of your arousal before fully dipping in. His arms hold your legs apart in place and he sneaks his thumb to your clit.

You feel euphoric, you could float away. The feeling of his tongue pushing in and out of you was enough to leave you grabbing at his shoulders, digging your nails in slightly. Your hips started rocking against his face, Spencer had to physically hold them down as he shifted his mouth's attention from your entrance to your clit.

“Hold still,” he ordered in the most gentle tone, the vibrations from his voice causing goosebumps, “you’re doing so well, Sweet Girl.”

You squeaked when you felt his mouth circle around your bud, sucking gently. As he worked you with his tongue, You felt him enter a finger inside you. His name rolled off your tongue in a sigh, your hand back in his hair pulling slightly and causing him to erotically groan.

The sounds coming from between your legs were so sinful and lewd, only amplifying when he added a second finger. His pace increased with the addition, fingers curling slightly while he pumped.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, vocabulary reduced to filthy swears and moans. You could feel your orgasm pending below my abdomen. Spencer didn’t slow down, even when you tried to buck away from his touch.

He was persistent in following you, his head moving wherever you tried to escape to. When he felt that he couldn’t keep up, he held you down by applying the entire pressure of his forearm against your pelvis.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer!” Each repetition got louder, you didn’t know what you were trying to say. He only sucked harder at your cries.

“So, so, so, so, clo - mmmh” Was all you could manage to say, your head lolling back into the bed.

“So good for me.” He uttered, making your thighs squeeze around his head. Spencer knew just what to say to get you to the edge. Your senses began to cloud in ecstasy, you were on the brink of your orgasm.

His slender fingers were working you from the inside, his skilled tongue was working you from the outside, you could barely keep your breathing in order. Your walls started clenching around the intrusion, your legs dug into the mattress, one hand pulling on his curls and the other hand digging into his forearm holding you down.

You were just on the verge of cumming when Spencer pulled out his fingers and stopped his motions. The whine you let out was visceral.

“What the fuck?” It was a genuine question.

The only response he gave was a puppy eyed stare, so full of adoration as he trailed his way back up to you with more tender kisses. You propped yourself on your elbows, trying to read into his expression.

You were so confused. Were you being punished?

He must’ve picked up on your thoughts because he skipped over your chest entirely to whisper in your ear.

“I’m sorry Princess.” He pecks your cheek, dragging his lips across your face to your lips.

You return the kiss, but don’t hesitate to question his motives once you’re finally able to find your words.

“Why’d you stop?” Tone pathetically whiney.

He kisses you again, stronger this time as he rests his fingers under your chin.

“I want to fuck you.”

He turns your head slightly to the side so he can whisper in your ear again.

“I want to fuck you until cum on my cock. Is that something you want me to do Princess?”

His voice sounded like he was whispering sweet affirmations, but his words were so filthy. The contrast had you clenching around nothing. Spencer loved hearing you confirm how bad you wanted him.

“Princess?” He turns your face to him again, so he can look into your eyes. “I asked you something.”

The eye contact feels so intense, it causes your breath to hitch a little.

“Yes.”

He moves in just a little closer, lips grazing.

“Yes?” He was testing you.

You should be grateful he was only testing you instead of tying you up and edging you all night for being a brat. That was still a possibility and you really don’t have the patience to wait anymore. You knew exactly what you had to say.

“Yes, please! I want to you to fuck me until I cum on your cock.”

That was all it took for his lips to come crashing down on yours. This kiss felt different to all the others tonight.

Almost like it held a hidden meaning.

He hooked his arms around your thighs and wrapped you around his waist. Neither of you pulls away, until you both gasp into each other’s mouths as he finally enters you.

He fills you up slowly, until there’s no more of him left to give and your arms instinctively drape against his shoulders. The second your bodies adjust comfortably, he pulls out slowly until just the tip is left in you, thrusting back in after a second.

You moan at the intrusion, pulling him closer for another kiss. He continues thrusting in and out, your make-out getting more careless as you moan into each other and his pace gradually picks up.

Your bodies move in sync, chasing a mutual high. His moans only encourage you to keep meeting his thrusts. He lifts one of your legs higher along his side, the tip of his shaft lightly bumping your cervix with every thrust from this angle.

“Feels..so..good...” You moan against his mouth.

“Yea?” He questions softly.

“Mhm.”

“How does this feel?” He reaches between your bodies to play with your clit as he fucks you. Your fingers dig into his back at the sensation, brows furrowing in an attempt to hold it together.

“Reall- fuck, really good.” You choke on your words from the intense pleasure.

He keeps up his pace and you feel yourself getting close.

“Spencer, I’m clos-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, Spencer interrupting you with his lips on yours.

“Cum for me Pretty Girl.” He coaxes, pulling away.

“I wanna finish together.” You plead, hoping he was as close as he seemed from the way he was grunting.

“We will. Just let yourself go Princess. I’ve got you.” There was mischief laced with his promise, but you didn’t pick up on it.

The coil in you was almost at its breaking point. It only took a few deep thrusts and you felt it snap. The feeling forced your eyes to the back of your head and your mouth aimlessly spewed random obscenities.

Your orgasm had been brewing for almost two whole weeks and when you were finally allowed release, well, the release was really intense. Spencer was no longer moving inside you once you finally came down from your high.

“Thank yo-” your gratitude was cut off by a loud wail when you felt Spencer slam back into you. You hadn’t noticed him shift into an up-right position, his hands pinning you to the bed by your hips as he continues fucking you with a brutal pace.

“Oh I’m sorry,” his demeanour shifted to demanding, “what were you saying?”

“Spence, fuck-” You couldn’t think properly with the way he was pounding into you. “What-” Your inability to speak matched your inability to think.

He abruptly pulls out of you, flips you over and pulls you up by your hair. He then grabs your wrists with his free hand and pins both your hands behind your back, pulling your back to rest against his chest so he could whisper directly in your ear.

“You asked me to fuck you. I’m just giving you what you want.” His tone remained soft, but it was laced with a harsh, taunting aura.

You were utterly flabbergasted. You had pissed him off. Spencer played you. His previous notion of ‘wanting to make it up to you was a decoy. He planned to properly punish you the whole time, buttering you up for his own entertainment.

Letting go of your hair, he pushes you back into the mattress, ass up in the air. He keeps your arms pinned and before you can make any noise, the air cracks to the sound of him spanking you.

Hard.

You squirm, burying your face into the mattress to muffle a surprised shriek. He leans down against you, re-aligning his lips to your ear.

“I’m going to count as I spank you. And for every single one, I want you to tell me one thing you did wrong tonight. Do you understand?” The setting had shifted entirely. Spencer had fully embraced his dominant role and you knew you had to be careful if you didn’t want the punishment to be too prolonged.

“Yes Sir!”

“One.” His first smack was lighter than the one he surprised you with just a second ago.

“I rolled my eyes.”

“Two.” Hand hitting over the exact same spot as before.

“I was mouthy.”

“Three.” This time he hit the other cheek.

“I- I don’t know-” You really didn’t.

Well you did, but whenever Spencer punished you, your brain turned to mush. You couldn’t think, it turned you on so much that you became stupid.

“Wrong. You dressed like a whore just to get a reaction out of me. We’re going to start again.” The force he hit with that time was unforgiving. you wailed at the sting.

“One.”

You had to restart at least two more times, your recall ability getting weaker with each blow. By the time Spencer finished, both cheeks were stinging.

He runs his middle finger through your slit, collecting your arousal and pushes it inside you. “Of course you’re even wetter now.” He snickers, you could only moan in response.

“Nothing? You had so much to say before.” He finally lets go of your wrists, allowing them to fall to the sides and he rubs your sensitive behind.

“I’m sorry for being a brat.” You muster as you try to flip around and face him.

“You will be.” He stops you and twists you back into position.

Face down, ass up.

“Get comfortable Princess, I’m not done with you yet.”

With that, he enters you in one quick motion, building to the brutal pace he originally set in no time. You swear it’s like you feel more of him now than you could before. Your hands rush to grip the bed sheets to try and keep yourself grounded.

“Spencer- ah-” He grips a handful of your flesh to shut you up.

“The only sounds I want coming out of you right now are the ones where you scream my name. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yessir!” You cry out from the pain.

He’s practically fucking you into the mattress at this point, every thrust so harsh, so precise, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over. Everytime his body meets your behind the sting intensifies, as if he keeps adding fuel to the fire he set on your skin, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure.

“Shit- Spen-” You can’t hold yourself back, the only thing on your mind is him, his name falling from your lips as if it was a song stuck on a broken record.

Your senses were on overload. He was consuming your entire being. You could feel every inch of him inside you and you didn’t want to stop. Your core began to tingle, feeling another orgasm approach you, reducing you to a blubbering mess. The room was filled with sounds of your moans and skin slapping against each other.

“I’m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonn-” Your words fade out.

“Go ahead, cum.” Spencer orders in between thrusts. “Cum all over my cock.”

His permission is all it takes for stars to come down from the sky and take hold in your vision. The sheets aren’t enough to keep you anchored and if it weren’t for Spencer’s grip on you, you’d have fallen flat against the bed.

It takes a few minutes for you to catch your breath, knuckles white from how hard you scrunched the sheets in your fingers. He’s still inside you when you come down again, just watching without saying a word.

“Colour?” Spencer leans in above you from behind, planting a kiss on your shoulder. A reminder of his promise that he’s got you.

“Green.” You wearily whisper. Your legs were burning, your body was utterly exhausted, but you enjoyed it when he used you in spite of the fact.

“Good. You’re going to give me one more.”

He plants another kiss and wraps a hand around your neck, the other sneaking between your breasts. Without using any force, he pulls you up in his lap, your back to his chest. A whimper chokes out of you when his length brushes against your inflamed bud.

“You look so pretty like this Princess.” He coos in short breaths. “All red and fucked out for me. Only me.”

He lowers his hand from the apex of your breast to his shaft, so that he can align himself with your entrance again. You subconsciously arch in anticipation, eager to have him fill you again despite your physical debilitation.

Once he’s lined up, his hand travels up again, stopping at the height of your hip. He pushes you down at the same time as he moves up, a loud moan erupting from both of you.

“You take me so well Princess.” Spencer praises.

Your eyes roll to the back for a second time tonight as your head falls against his collarbone. While his initial pace was slow, it didn’t take long for him to speed it back up to ruthless - you have to admire his stamina.

He lowers his mouth to just below your jaw, his fingers tightening around the sides of your neck, limiting the blood supply to your brain. At the same time, he starts sucking another hickey on your skin and your jaw hangs open to allow passage to a series of moans as a result.

“You enjoy being fucked like a whore hmm?”

The contrast between praise and degradation had you clenching, resulting in desperate grumbles from him. His grip only tightens more when you take too long to answer.

“Yessir-” You stifle, brain going fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. He loosens his grip and smiles, lips grazing your cheek.

You’re beside yourself, all your control had been relinquished to this man long ago. You feel him play with your clit, circling and flicking the bud. It’s already swollen from previous use, the overstimulation is too much for your body to handle. Unable to squirm away from him, you grasp at his wrist, attempting to push him away.

Spencer doesn’t relent and you’re too weak to use any force. Everything he does is pushing you over the edge and all you’re able to do is whine and moan.

“Use your words Princess? What do you want? Do you want me to stop?” He sneers, knowing that’s not at all what you want.

“N-No Sir.”

“No? You want me to keep going? Want me to make you cum again?” Small grunts slip from him when he speaks, fingers speeding up between your legs. “You gonna be a good little slut and give me one more?”

“I ca-can’t, it’s to-ah - too much-''

“Oh so now it’s too much for you?”

There’s nothing romantic about your current disposition. It was purely salacious- his hand on your neck, the other between your legs, you practically kneeling against him with your back to his chest as he pounds into you from behind, the sounds created from your bodies melding and pouring from your throats.

You’re practically a free use doll for him. Your need to release from earlier today was nothing compared to how bad you need to cum now. You feel like you might explode from the extreme pleasure.

“Spen-Spence- fuck- pleasepleaseplease-”

“Oh my poor, sweet little Princess, doesn’t even know what she wants. Can’t even think because her brain’s too fucked out. Maybe I should stop, let you get a break.” Spencer mocks.

“Nononono, please! So close, Im so-fuck!”

Spencer keeps his pace on your clit, but slows down his hips when speaking.

“I think we should stop here.” He taunts. “Just look at you! You’re a mess. I don’t think you know what you want.”

“Yes-Yes I do- I do! Please Spence- don’t stop!”

“I can’t help you if you’re not making sense. Speak clearly, what do you want me to do?” Your desperation was thrilling for him. He wanted to draw it out as long as he could by teasing you.

“I’m so-close, I c-can’t!”

His fingers tighten around your throat again.

“Yes you can. You can and you will. Use your words, what do you want?”

“Ple-ease Sir, let me c-cum.”

He purposely thrusts as hard as he can when you speak to throw you off, so you have to repeat yourself.

“I said clearly, Princess. That was not clear enough.” He teases, smugly.

You inhale deeply.

“Please let me cum, Sir.”

Satiated with your answer, Spencer releases your throat and speeds up again. It doesn’t take long before he becomes sloppy with his movements. The final few thrusts are buried as deep within you as physically possible and you surrender to your climax.

Not even a moment after you finish, Spencer empties himself inside of you, hot ropes of his cum filling you up as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. A synched, loud moan concludes your tango and you fall limp against each other before you tumble onto the mattress.

Both take a moment, heaving intensely as you lay side by side. Spencer’s hand finds yours and he rubs small, soothing circles on the back of it.

“What was that?” You ask when you feel enough air fill your lungs.

He gradually turns his head to you, eyes darting as if he was searching for something in the back of his mind.

“Malicious compliance. For a lack of better wording.” He answers in a whisper, trying to catch his breath. You snort weakly, not much energy in your body to spare.

“You should maliciously comply more often.”

“I don’t think you actually want me to maliciously comply.” He pants.

Re-adjusting to face him and you just stare at each other for a moment. A breathless fit of giggles sparks amongst you. When you fall silent again, you just lie there, staring deeply into each other's eyes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Hmm?” He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“How you have any energy left to get up is beyond me.”

“Oh believe me, I don’t,” still panting, “but I really want to take care of you right now.”

“You just did.” You counter.

There’s a hint of penitence in his eyes, so fleeting that you almost miss it. you want to question it, but it’s quickly replaced by the expression of rapture.

“Come on Honey.” He implores and you make a mental note to ask him later.

He takes your hands and pulls you up with him. You both lazily make your way to the bathroom, you hold on to him the whole way, scared that your legs alone won’t be strong enough to carry you right now.

Immediately upon seeing your reflection, you laugh awkwardly. Mascara was running down your face, your lipstick all smudged, you truly looked like a mess. Spencer kisses your temple and turns on the shower, returning to you while you wait for the water to heat up.

He props you on the bathroom counter, removing your stockings for you, peppering you in thankful kisses. You reach over for your make-up remover and Spencer grabs the cotton wipes, insistent on removing it for you. His touch is light as he carefully wipes cosmetic residue from your face.

The bathroom fogs up and you finally get in the shower. Neither of you speak, reserving your strength to keep you standing. Instead, you wrap your arms around each other, letting go only to aid in washing your bodies. Both of you stay in the shower for a little bit longer than intended, just holding the other.

“I’m going to make us some tea. Will you be okay to finish off here by yourself?” He speaks up after a little while.

“Yea I’ll be fine. I’ll join you in a minute.”

He gives you a quick peck, then two, before he leaves. You take your time, peeing after your shower when you remember Spencer’s lecture on avoiding UTIs from when you first started dating. Once you’re all nice and clean, you slip into one of Spencer’s shirts and some fresh underwear.

You walk into the living room to find Spencer sitting on the couch, two cups of tea on the coffee table, while he fiddles with his files again. Great. Opting to ignore it due to your fatigue, you march into the kitchen to grab your phone.

Your abandoned dress is neatly draped on one of the dining chairs. Spencer must've picked it up when he was making tea. You grab your phone to find many missed calls from your friends. Fuck. You had forgotten about your plans.

You quickly shoot them a text to apologise and make some excuse for your absence, promising to make it up to them soon.

“Honey, you okay?” Spencer calls out from the living room.

You make your way back to him upon hearing his voice. “Yea, I was just texting my friends.”

“Would you like to do that sitting down? Your tea’s getting cold.” He extends his hand out to you from the couch and you take it, sinking into his embrace.

“Don’t you have to go back to your files?” When you look around, the files are nowhere to be seen.

“No. No more working on files.” He sighs

“Spence, what’s wrong?” You ask, pulling away from his arms. “You have that look on your face again.”

“I’ve been neglecting you. And I’m sorry.”

That’s what it was.

“Oh, Honey. It’s okay, I mean I get it. It’s your job.”

“You don’t have to do that. This isn’t part of my job. It’s just this one case that’s really getting to me and I’ve let it take over my life outside the job.” Guilt rides his features. You cup his face in your hands and he takes hold of your wrist.

“I won’t lie to you. It’s hard, but I know how much the BAU means to you.” You console.

“It does mean a lot. But so do you.” He shakes his head as he pulls you into another hug. “I’ve seen what this job does to people. To relationships. I value you too deeply to let that happen to us. I promise that from now, work stays at work. When I come home, I’m all yours.”

“Jesus I love this man.” You proclaim to yourself silently. “Thank you for that.” is what you say aloud.

“Infact,” Spencer's the one to pull away this time. He reaches over for his phone and begins texting someone, “just give me a second.”

“What are you doing?”

It takes him some time to reply. Texting is not one of his strong suits, he needs to pay a little more attention to the task than most people.

“I’ve just texted Hotch for some time off. I hope you don’t have any plans this weekend, because you and I are going to spend the entirety of it together.” He smiles goofily.

“I love you.” You blurt out with more passion than you were expecting.

“And I love you.” He replies with equal enthusiasm, leaning in his lips against yours.

The kiss is so emotional, so raw, so perfect.

“Now,” He brushes your hair behind your ear, “let’s finish this tea and get to bed. I have two weeks worth of cuddling to make up for, I believe.”

“So you’ve been counting too?” You laugh.

“I count every second I don’t spend with you so that I know to make up for it properly.” He confides.

You almost jump at him for another kiss, unable to contain your emotions. This man was perfect in every sense of the word to you.

As the two of you sat there, just talking, desire surged through your body once again, but in a different way this time. It was more than a desire for pleasure. It was a desire for the man you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend. A desire to just be in his presence, to be loved by him and to love him in his entirety. A desire for Spencer Reid.

Spoilers: Established relationship, Dom! Spencer, Possessive! Spencer, Sub! Reader, Bratty! Reader, soft & rough sex, spanking, degrading kink, praise kink, breast play, name calling, choking, hair pulling, fingering, slight edging (barely), overstimulation, creampie, after-care, fluff.

AN - Hey guys I’m beginning to sense that I might be incapable of not writing fluff in every story and I recognise it may need to stop. Anyways when imagining this, my brain decided it should include vanilla, soft dom and mean dom Spencer all in one, I’m sorry for that. Shoutout to all the smut writers out there, this is my first smut piece and it was so fucking complicated to write. There’s only so many ways you can write smut, y’all are dedicated. To all my virgins out there: please keep in mind that this does not represent real sex and barely is sex ever even slightly close to as good as we imagine in fanfics. Also women's bodies do not react the way we read most of the time.

Feel free to drop helpful constructive criticism, I’m always looking to improve :)

Added AN - Just re-read this, I am deeply sorry for all the grammatical errors. I fixed what I could just now, but the reposts won't update with the edits. My bad people!

Thank you for reading!

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hellishjoel · 8 months

Text

cherry thrill | lights

9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)

During your first consultation, there was something in the air.

Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets. You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M.

Joel Miller.

You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes.

Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over.

Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension.

He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist.

You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor.

Virgin.

That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings.

He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.

Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind.

“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit.

You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs.

You shakily exhale as he warms you.

You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job.

But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck.

His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk.

There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it.

It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity.

It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity.

You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings.

A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur.

The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed.

“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”

His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless.

“I think so.”

Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it.

“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”

“I’m sorry. I know so.”

Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time.

How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you.

But thinking about him wasn’t enough.

You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin.

You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment.

A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him.

“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.”

That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care.

He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office.

Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office.

He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him.

Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice.

All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning.

“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office.

He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression.

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you.

You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.”

Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”

His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline.

You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.”

You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.

“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper.

Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear.

Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence.

“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips.

You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing.

His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip.

Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.”

You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong.

Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight.

You’ve never seen a man so hungry.

“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils.

“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point.

Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind.

“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush.

He hesitates, untrusting of his own words.

“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”

Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows.

“You- what?”

“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk.

The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop.

“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine.

You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak.

His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin.

You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk.

“Nervous?” He belittles.

Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along.

“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his.

Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs.

“No, definitely not.”

“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”

You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.”

His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.”

Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk.

“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke.

You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties.

He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”

You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn.

“Yes, daddy.”

You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it.

“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”

A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.”

He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look.

Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile.

“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does.

“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine.

A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking.

“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.

You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.”

A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back.

There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him.

His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again.

“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps.

He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs.

“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze.

“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are.

“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.”

The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it.

“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk.

“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants.

“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.

He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.”

For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes.

With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.

You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him.

He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one.

Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes.

Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him.

You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well.

There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards.

With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger.

Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”

He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey.

You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.

You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk.

“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.”

The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk, dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him.

He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions.

You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you.

“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this.

Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”

Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss.

“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey.

“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.”

You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers.

Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance.

Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure.

A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously.

You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too.

Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head.

It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him.

A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge.

“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.”

You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please.

With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth.

“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows.

“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth.

Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor.

Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw.

“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish.

“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you.

The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps.

Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth.

“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight.

That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy.

The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine.

He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.”

You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does.

Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth.

It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm.

“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance.

“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided.

It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like.

Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?

“Ohmygod-” you gasp.

Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights?

“Joel, please,” you say, needing more.

Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?

“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good.

“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment.

He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.

Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently.

“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second.

Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him.

Now you’re really aching for him, wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria.

“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.

God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now.

Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips.

Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it.

“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside.

“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?”

God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him.

“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach.

“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips.

Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot.

Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared.

You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin.

It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.

You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers.

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern.

You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.”

Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit.

“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously.

“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him.

He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds.

You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine.

“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time.

“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing.

“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile.

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.”

Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.”

“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution.

He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.”

A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls.

“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper.

“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you.

“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features.

“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body.

“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt.

The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full.

He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you.

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal.

“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you.

“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.”

A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.

Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions.

One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear.

Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep.

Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to.

Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.

“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.”

It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off.

Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands.

His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction.

Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt.

You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more.

“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own.

“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions.

Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you.

It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest.

You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond.

You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison.

Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you?

Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name.

“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm.

“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.”

Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.

The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you.

Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light.

You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers.

“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven.

His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths.

You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves.

You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his.

“Joel-”

“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp.

“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp.

“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.

His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you.

You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm.

Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom.

It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze.

“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any.

You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy.

A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces.

“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet.

“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head.

“What about the one in your nose?”

He shakes his head again, this time with a smile.

“Or your tongue?”

This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug.

“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.”

Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers.

Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin.

You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already.

“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-”

“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water.

You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops.

You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk.

It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens.

Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle.

You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo.

“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.”

“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.”

You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients.

The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.

“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”

You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins.

“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.”

You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard.

It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious. “M’not this gentle.”

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.”

“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.”

You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”

Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution.

It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back.

You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process.

Joel sighs.

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this.

But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him?

Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him.

Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back.

“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.”

You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused.

“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.”

Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.”

Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller.

You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title.

The Obsidian Gallery

Joel Miller

Senior Tatoo Artist

You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller.

next chapter ->

3K notes · View notes

shithowdy · 10 months

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the discussion surrounding generative images costing artists their jobs and being trained on stolen work is extremely important and worth having, but the reason i'm so zealous about pointing them out when i see them (and helping people learn to recognize them) is, once again, consumer and media literacy. ai generators have their arguable uses as tools for inspiration, but they are also tools for manipulation.

generative images, unlike a good photoshop, can be produced instantly with absolutely no skill required, which means that everything from online shopping to political propaganda is now inundated with convincing fakes. this could easily be you!

when doing your shopping this season, please pay close attention to products from unfamiliar sources like etsy shops.

does the product show multiple angles? (this is the most important thing for which you should look)

does the product have a lot of superfine details, yet no zoom on them?

do those details actually connect and make sense as shapes?

are things that should be symmetrical, such as chair legs or lamp bases, actually symmetrical?

does the light source make sense? (like this lamp example: why is the base not illuminated if the lamp is lit?)

if purchasing a print from an etsy (etc.) shop, is the style consistent or does the "artist" somehow seem to be an expert in every style and medium? (like, beware of shops like this one-- even without zooming and investigating, the inconsistent style is quite a red flag)

can you find an "original" of the image, like on an artist's social media, or does it seem to only exist in the context of the shop?

do the elements and details of the image easily distinguish themselves, or do parts of them merge weirdly together? (to use an example from the previously linked shop, check out the bottom of the coat on this image and how it fuses with the clothing beneath-- this is only the most immediate and obvious issue in the image)

REVERSE IMAGE SEARCH EVERYTHING.

my inbox is always open if you want help determining if something is fake. love you guys, protect your wallets.

2K notes · View notes

harmoonix · 8 months

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Backcountry

(Random Astrology Observations)

🎶: Virgo Moons/Virgo Placements are the maiden, the M symbol in their zodiac sign ♍, indicates the circular nature of karma, love these placements so much 💞

🎶: Capricorn Jupiter/Jupiter in the 10th house or at Cap Degrees 10° 22° grants the native with luck in their careers/jobs

🎶: Midheaven in Leo Degrees 5°, 17°, 29° makes the native to be in the spotlight from a young age, they can get all attention and to be seen as someone very confident

🎶: Venus in Air Signs and Air houses (3rd, 7th, 11th houses) tend to flirt a lot, if they don't flirt they will definitely wait for a good opportunity to do it

🎶: Cancer/Capricorn/Moon/Saturn in the 4th house will love to live a traditional life style, they may also keep in touch with their traditions

🎶: Pisces Moon/Moon in the 12th house are so powerful in their subconscious world, most of these natives can have dreams as a form of signs to warn them about things happening in their lives

🎶: Don't argue with me but Saturn/Capricorn/Scorpio and even Pluto in the 12th house can be indicators of having an difficult/harsh/rough father, and is not your fault in case you have it 💞💞💞

🎶: 8th house ruler in the 12th house or vice versa is extremely karmic, basically you have periods of rebirth after rebirth and evolution I guess in a past life you couldn't expand or evolve that much

🎶: Scorpio/Pluto/Venus in the 3rd house can make the conversation more spicy when you talk with them, like you know talking about a random subject and they throw something spicy into the conversation

🎶: Aries Risings, they have a perfect chart in form of having every sign in their homes and everything can work perfectly at times, of course depends on the placement of planets but your house placements are ✨✨ chef kiss

🎶: Venus in Earth signs have 2 specific love languages (or even more who knows) most earth Venus signs I know love words of affirmation and quality time and I love that about them 💞

🎶: In my ascendant persona chart I have Venus conjunct the ascendant and one specific thing about this placement is that it gives you time to love yourself 💞 is healing

🎶: Mercury aspecting Neptune is an artistic placement, the native is blessed at any types of arts, like design, painting, etc.. they may love music too

🎶: I may not be that much into the draconic chart but I realized some people have a different draconic chart?? and I got soo confused because my draconic chart literally looks like my vedic chart but at different degrees, i checked my sister's draconic chart and is totally different from her vedic chart...

🎶: Saturn in the 2nd house/Saturn in Taurus, there is some sort of anxiety about their worth and value here, both at money and their self worth, they are so worthy but don't realize that 😕

🎶: Moon in Taurus Degrees 2°, 14°, 26°, the native might have a soft inner child, kind, generous, can be very passionate about their dreams and can be sacrificial at times

🎶: Those with Saturn - Jupiter aspects (especially conjunction very rarely find in a chart) can attract succes in the later ages of their lives, succes can be at any type like in love life, maybe in career or something else

🎶: Ascendant at 6°, 18° (Virgo Degrees), They are peaceful and loved natives, Princess Diana had these degrees on the ascendant and she was seen as holy/pure, exactly as Virgo's definition

🎶: Cancer in the 7th house/Moon in the 7th house/Jupiter in Cancer/Jupiter in the 7th house (if you like or are attracted by men) those placements really give the type of husband is who very attached to you/can be a mamas boy and definitely clingy

🎶: Ascendant at 9°, 21° degrees are wild spirits, they are the most outgoing people you will met, definitely that one person who knows how to enjoy life 100%, blessed

🎶: Capricorn Moons/Capricorn Risings are not always cold as some people say, most of the times they want to protect themselves from people and to not get hurt again

🎶: 11° or 23° degrees on the Midheaven indicates someone who may work a lot in online and maybe being successful/known in online

🎶: Jupiter in the 3rd/9th house axis, might be the most curious placement for this planet. Jupiter explores a lot in these houses, makes the native very talkative and open-minded (Also you're really blessed if you have Jupiter in the 9th house)

🎶: Moon in Gemini/Moon in the 3rd house, these natives always have the best advices when it comes to conversations and socializing, they may also talk a lot about their hobbies or things that make them happy

🎶: Mars in Leo/Sagittarius/Gemini/Libra makes the native to be a chaser or to be chased when they're in love especially at flirting

🎶: Midhaven in Libra Degrees 7°, 19° these natives can be known for their beauty or fashion style/maybe for their talents or maybe they can work in a artistic field

🎶: Asteroid Kalisto 204 aspecting Venus bless the native with a lot of love, beauty, passion and talents, is something about their eyes or their voice

🎶: Asteroid Bacchus 2063 aspecting Juno, the native desires a very sensual/sexual relationship, very lusty, maybe even kinky when they're in a relationship

🎶: Asteroid Sirene 1009 in the 1st/6th house the native has this hypnotic energy in their everyday life, their mood might change from time to time

🎶: 11th house placements are very loyal towards their friendships, for them their friends can be their everything

🎶: Pluto or Saturn in the 4th house, native might have an intense family - life/household, may grew with strict parents and strict rules

🎶: Saturn in the 5th/6th/9th houses natives really need to enjoy life A LOT WAYYY more, these native can often get into a depressive state, go out and dance 🩰 🪩, have fun with your friends, maybe connecting with people

🎶: Uranus in Pisces/12th house is full of physic energy, they can have a a very tied relationship with their own subconscious soul & mind

🎶: Juno in the 11th house or Aquarius can happen a lot for people to always ship/pair them with someone, this energy manifests as people crushing over your friendships (If you have Juno at Aquarius Degrees 11°, 23° too)

🌳 - Do you like to go in the backcountry/in the nature/forest?? Especially if you live in areas with forests around, I love that!! I find these things relaxing/healing !! Take care at bears y'all if you live in a country with a high population of bears!!🐻🌳

Hope you have a good time!!🐻 Watch out for bears and be blessed with light today!❤️❤️

All the best,harmoonix ❤️❤️

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ennabear · 9 days

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i beg of you to write more mean abby.. i reread all of ur mean abby works religiously i swear i just love her too much ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ NONNIEEEEE STOP THIS JS TOO SWEET!!!! IM BLUSHING IM BLUSHING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! sorry this is a lil bit messy, i haven’t really had time to lock in on anything official I HOPE THATS OKAY!!!! here are some thoughts… 18+

i think mean!abby is one of those people who are discreetly rich. she’s not the type of person to go on big fancy vacations, or buy expensive sports cars, or to always have the newest technology. before she met you, she probably spent most of her money on books or expensive brands of tea imported from countries she’s never even heard of. after she met you, though? she’d swipe her card a million times a day to see you smile.

the best way i can describe her personality is like some old cranky grandpa, the scary guy on the block who never smiles but is very confrontational. if you’ve seen her around, you’d know that she’s always wearing a scowl, only leaves her penthouse apartment early to go to the gym, and has beef with most of her neighbors. but if you know know her? she’s a sweetie pie. she loves spontaneous sweet treats, slow dancing to 70’s music, old horror films (mean!abby letterboxd goes CRAZY i just know), and most shockingly, her cats.

and she LOVES those fuckers. it’s so perfect how she can have a companion who’s quiet and small and independent, and two of them? barely any responsibility. they have an automatic feeder, entertain each other, and only bug her about once a day for attention.

as for her job, i could see her having two possibilities. one being an extreme workaholic. maybe an office job or a surgeon or something?? (NOT a nurse because they’re supposed to be good at talking to people…) OR she only really works part time, some freelance job that doesn’t really have any rules. a photographer or a tattoo artist or some sort of small business that she can mostly manage on her own. money has never been an issue for her, coming from a family of doctors. her ass was spoiled rotten as a kid, and after her dad died she inherited all of that money.

she’s the biggest protector in the world. someone was talking shit about you? she’s breaking their nose right now actually. i think the biggest reason she’s “mean” is because she actually just has anxiety. the last time she felt a love this strong, it was for her dad. she can’t afford to lose you like she lost him, so she always has to make sure you’re safe and sound. it’s not like she’s trying to be controlling by texting you every half hour, she just worries that maybe she won’t be able to protect you for once, and it’ll be at the worst possible time.

ok lock in here are some nsfw thoughts :3

you know that trope that’s like “big mean stoic character is actually the subbiest bottomest little puppy in the whole world.” yeah…. if you don’t agree what are you still doing here.

it definitely took her a while to be this vulnerable, but jesus christ is it worth it!!! the way you get to watch her squirm and whimper underneath you, knowing that you’re the only one who can make her feel this way. to give your big protective guard dog girlfriend a night off, to take care of her in return for all that she does for you.

and she lovessss being tied up!!!! something about the intimacy of knowing you’re gonna give her a good time makes her submit to you almost instantly. she has to trust you on this, has sit back and relax and let her brain melt because she physically can’t do anything about it.

when she does dom i imagine she’s a pretty big brat tamer. c’mon, not everyone has the luxury of having a girlfriend like her. if you don’t act grateful she’ll whip you in to shape. literally. she’s not afraid of a good spanking.

also she’s strapped up 24/7 but this is canon in every universe… no matter what she’s doing or where she’s going or who she’s gonna meet, the strap stays ON!!! just in case she may need it….

but she’s the aftercare QUEEN. of course. apart from the basics like food, water, cuddles, etc. she has tonssss of knowledge on proper aftercare. you’d never have to worry about being hurt or getting a uti or feeling unloved because she’s read every forum to exist about aftercare!!! i just know this bitch runs a tumblr kink blog like it’s the military… 🤦

that’s all…. going to eep now……

#sorry for neglecting y’all… i’ve been busy please forgive me #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #the last of us

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valleyofheartz · 1 month

Text

I Love You, I’m Sorry

University AU

Pairing: Volleyball player!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Artist!F!Reader

angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, FWB to lovers, angst with a happy ending

WC: 9.7k

Synopsis: Falling in love with the pretty volleyball player in your first year of University wasn’t something you intended to happen; it just did. And then, two years later, the line between lust and love blurs. You want him beyond his body, but does he want every side of you? A part of you liked to think so, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is known for crushing hearts, and make no mistake, you were no exception.

Content/Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, FWB relationship, graphic descriptions of blood/knives/wounds/organs (nothing actually happens), subtle hints of depression/anxiety, jealousy, curse words, one scene with a creep but its vague, pls lmk if I missed anything!

two August’s ago, you fell in love.

you remember laughing till tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks, face hurting from smiling so much. you remember soft touches; on your hand as you reached for the same item, on your waist when you squeezed by, on the corner of your mouth when you don’t seem to notice the crumbs that coat your lips. you remember a gentle smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit as your heart stutters in your chest. you remember dark curly hair, mole kissed skin and eyes brimming with affection.

you remember everything.

bright, giddy, and curious, you entered university with dreams larger than the sun. your passion for art made you yearn. you wanted to draw everything beautiful. you’d sit by the tree near your campus library and draw for hours, music blaring through your headphones as you sketched pretty items, pretty scenery, and pretty people in your book.

it was under the tree you found your muse.

you recall forgetting to bring something to tie your hair with, leaving it to fall in your face when the the wind hit a little too hard. you squinted, frowning as you moved the strands out of your sight.

and then, as if entranced, you see the prettiest student walk towards the library. it’s like everything is suddenly moving slower. he’s clad in a- sports jacket? with your school logo, and black shorts to match. he has a gym bag hung on his right shoulder, but you find yourself more focused on the thick locks on his head and soft slope of his nose. his lips are full, pretty and pink. the slight chill from the air must be the reason why his cheeks are tinted as well, and your hands itch with the urge to draw this mythical being.

(first-year you was a little dramatic, but present you still understands her.)

you draw a rough sketch of him the moment he leaves, but you know had you had more time to look, you would’ve done a much better job.

✾

the second time you see him is at a party.

you had forgotten about the pretty boy as the days went on, more focused with school and handing in assignments. exams arrived, and then you were on break. your friends had begged you to show up, with promises of it being a fun experience even if all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and sleep all day.

you end up wearing a cute outfit, somewhat revealing yet covering the parts you wanted to. your hair is styled with shiny clips that match your makeup. you feel pretty, and even though you initially did not want to go out, you think this might be a good idea.

“Y/n, let me know if you want to leave early, okay? And don’t drink anything random people offer you.” Kuroo grabs your arm, tone serious. you want to laugh at the usually silly guy being so protective of you.

you smile, “I know, father. No need to worry about me, it’s just my first party.”

Akaashi beside you ruffles your hair, “He has a reason to be worried, you’re a little too sweet for your own good.”

you scrunch up your nose, mentally disagreeing. you could certainly be mean. but they had yet to see you at your worst, so this made sense. you decide to let them keep this image of you.

Bokuto barrels forward, knocking into your back as you stumble into Kuroo’s arms. he catches you with ease, sending a glare towards his friend.

“Watch it, are you drunk already?”

Bokuto grins, “Pre-gamed a little too hard! My bad, bro.” he pauses, looking at you, “And the lady-bro.”

you stifle a giggle at his words, focusing on the warmth that emits from Kuroo. you suddenly regret wearing something that showed more skin, knowing you got cold easily.

“Tetsu, can we get drinks?” you grab his bicep gently as he looks down.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just say hi to some of the guys and we’ll go.” he waits for Akaashi to come to your other side before walking, with you squashed between them.

you roll your eyes, what was up with them? it was your first time attending a university party, not your first time at a club.

you greet people mindlessly, and they all seem nice enough. you get restless after twenty minutes though, really wanting a drink. you tug Kuroo’s shirt gently, waiting for him to turn to you.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?”

he frowns, “I’ll come, give me a sec.” he doesn’t wait for a response before excusing himself from his friends. they all wave him off as he guides you to another room in the house, which is more secluded.

you find the table, filled with all sorts of stuff you were unfamiliar with. one of Kuroo’s friends stands by, and you assume he’s keeping an eye on the beverages to ensure nobody spikes them with anything.

Kuroo gives him a quick nod before reaching for a bottle. he must know what he’s doing, however, as he pours you a mixture of two drinks before handing it to you. you take it with narrowed eyes, lifting it to your nose and oh, it smells fruity enough.

you down it in one go, looking back at Kuroo’s slackened jaw. you bark out a loud laugh, before covering it with your hand. “What?”

he shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Didn’t know you were so thirsty.”

you shrug in response, mindlessly scanning the room as Kuroo pours himself a drink.

despite the room being half empty, it is still fairly large. you can see a group playing beer pong on the left side, while the ones on the right are laughing loudly as they seemingly discuss something funny.

and then, your eyes land on him.

he’s standing with who you assume is his friend, with their back towards you. he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and the position allows his navy blue shirt to stretch with the muscle. you swallow when your eyes trail down to his slim waist.

broad shoulders and a small waist? surely that had to be illegal.

his black pants are loose, but fit his thighs nicely.

when your eyes go back to his face, you’re once again filled with the urge to pick up your pencil and draw. he’s not smiling, and you have a feeling he doesn’t smile very often, but it doesn’t take away from his beauty. his cheekbones are pretty and prominent, and you wonder how they would feel beneath your palms.

you bite on your bottom lip at the thought, feeling foolish for thinking about a stranger like that.

“Oh? Does my little Y/n have a crush?” a voice croons next to your ear.

you whip your head back with a glare, “Tetsu, no.”

he laughs loudly, head throwing back as he cackles. you frown, scrunching your nose at him even if he’s too busy laughing to see.

“Oh, c’mon cutie, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with a little crush, I would just recommend someone a little… nicer.” he says, out of breath as a grin stretches on his face.

you tilt your head, “Huh? You know him?“

Kuroo ruffles your hair gently, with you moving to fix it immediately.

“We aren’t close, but I do know him since he’s on the same team as me,” Kuroo smiles at the wide eyed look you give him. “i’d say i’m closer with his friend over there.”

when you glance back to the pair, you find that the pretty boy has his eyes on you.

your heart jumps, your body shivering as you snap your eyes back to Kuroo.

what the fuck? maybe you hallucinated that.

“Oh, your man is looking here.”

maybe not.

“Hey, want me to introduce you? Who knows, you might be able to defrost his heart.” he smirks, with you shaking your head to disagree. “No, thank you. I’m not going to defrost his heart like he’s some piece of frozen raw meat.”

he huffs out a laugh, turning into a cough when his eyes partially widen. “Well, you should prepare yourself, they’re both coming here right now.”

you look at Kuroo with an incredulous expression, “You’re fucking lying.”

“Such a foul mouth, cutie.” he lifts his hand up and looks beside you, “Hey, man.” he waves. he nods at the pretty boy next, who you assume nods back.

you finally allow yourself to look away from Kuroo and at the two new men in front of you. they’re both tall, but thankfully you’re used to being surrounded by tall men due to your friends.

you smile at the friend and glance at the pretty boy for a second, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” you’re thankful you manage to sound stable.

“I’m Adriah.” his friend says with a half grin. it’s boyish and charming, but you’re more concerned with the curly-haired guy beside him. your eyes dart to his next, anticipating an introduction.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

his voice is deep, it’s almost alluring. it reminds you of the dark chocolate you often pick up from the convenience store beside your dorm; bitter but comforting.

you always loved dark chocolate.

the thought makes your heart do a funny thing and your chest seize up.

✾

a year and a half later, you kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi for the first time.

you’re close friends by now, perhaps even best friends. you know him like the back of your hand; no, you know better than you know yourself.

you know his arms are covered in beauty marks, ones you’d like to trace with your lips. you know how his hair looks when he first awakens, eyes swollen and lips puffed out in a pout. you know his favorite food, and how he likes his coffee in the morning. you know he sighs through his nose when he’s feeling overstimulated, you know his lips press together when he’s about to say something mean. you know he crosses his arms when he feels like he needs to protect himself, you even know the brand of disinfecting wipes he prefers to buy.

you know he has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, you know how his lips stretch out all pretty when he’s caught off guard. you know the low timbre in his chest when he laughs, his thick steel walls suddenly nowhere to be seen as he allows himself to relax.

“Kiyo, please? I really want to go, and nobody else wants to come!” you beg, voice sad as you sit on the edge of his bed.

it’s 12:00PM, and Kiyoomi is still laying in bed. you understand, it is a Saturday, but you wanted to go out and visit the cat cafe with supposedly amazing tiramisu.

the lump on the bed barley moves, “Oh great, so I’m your last choice. I’ll pass.”

you smile, giggling. “No, you were my first choice, but you said no so I asked other people and they also refused, so now I came back to you!”

he lifts the covers, sitting up. he’s shirtless, and the sight of his bare body covered in pretty beauty marks makes your brain short-circuit. you turn away, huffing. “Put on a shirt you… perv.”

you hear a pretty laugh then, your head immediately turning back to catch the rare sight. he shakes his head, small grin still on his face, “I’m the perv? Not the one who’s red in the face and can’t even look me in the eye?”

you blink harshly, “I can look at you! I’m just… respecting your boundaries.”

you turn away again, crossing your arms. you hear the covers on the bed shuffle, and when you slowly turn around, you find yourself much closer to Kiyoomi than you thought.

you blink, moving to give him space and tumbling off the bed in the process with a yelp. he grabs you with wide eyes, moving so he takes the brunt of the fall.

you land on top of him, watching as he groans in pain below you. your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, and they feel smooth beneath your hands.

he sighs, laying his head on the floor. he looks up at you through lidded eyes. “So what now, genius? You made us fall.”

you shoot him a dirty look, “Well nobody told you to fall with me.”

“This is the ‘thank you’ I get? Next time I’ll let you get hurt, brat.” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

you pout, bottom lip pushing out. “You’d let me fall and get hurt?”

he stares at you intently, not answering. you take the time to observe his face, wanting to burn the memory into your brain. you like the small bump on his nose. you like the way his bottom lip is slightly bigger than the top. you like the way his skin turns red easily, his cheeks often sporting a pretty blush even from the slightest chilly air. you like his thick curly hair, wondering how it would feel in your hands. you like his eyes too, dark and swirling with emotions you’ve yet to unravel and discover.

suddenly realizing your proximity, your eyes dart to his lips. plush and full, they look so inviting. you subconsciously lick your bottom lip, glancing up to find his eyes are also on your mouth. and when he finally looks you in the eye, you know if you don’t make a move now, you never will.

you lean in, slowly, and with a gentle exhale, you press your lips to his.

✾

a month later, you have sex with Kiyoomi.

it comes naturally, you think. soft kisses shared with hushed whispers were no longer enough. it led to heated touches and lust-filled eyes.

so when the two of you end up going further, you have no complaints.

he treats you exactly how you’d like, gentle in some ways and rough in others. you like the feel of his calloused hands caressing your skin, the rough bumps making him more attractive than you already thought he was.

and then you’re laying in bed, sweaty and covered in fluid. but his mattress is so comfortable, and your eyelids feel heavy.

“Y/n, we need to shower.”

“One minute.” you mumble quietly.

you feel a hand gently move hair out of your face, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. it’s gone before you can speak, and you have to force the whine down your throat.

you hear a sigh, and then feel a strong arm slide underneath your knees with the other behind your back as you are lifted into the air.

you squeak, hands scrambling to latch onto his neck. you look up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes, “Seriously, Kiyo? I can still walk, you jackass.”

he shakes his head with a small grin, and your hands itch to grab his face and kiss him senseless. “Are you sure you can walk? I’m not sure you can after all that.”

you change your mind, you want to slap him senseless.

“Ha-ha. So. Funny.” you deadpan, unable to help yourself and breaking into a smile when you feel his shoulders shake as he chuckles.

when the two of you are in bed, freshly washed and ready to sleep, Kiyoomi breaks your heart for the first time.

you’re laying your head on his chest, heartbeat steady and comforting as it almost lulls you to sleep.

his voice pulls you back, “Y/n,”

you hum in response.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand, I care about you, but I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” the words are spoken softly, but they cut through your heart nonetheless.

your body freezes, and you have to force yourself to relax when you realize he can feel it.

so what if Kiyoomi isn’t ready to date? you’re okay with kissing him, going out with him, and sleeping with him. you’re okay with that and not having a label. you’re okay with not being exclusive.

you’re okay with having him to this extent.

you’re okay.

“I understand. Don’t worry, Kiyoomi.”

✾

five months later, everything is the same.

and yet, nothing is the same.

“I don’t like this, Y/n. I think you should break things off with him.” Kuroo frowns, leaning into Akaashi’s side as he hogs the blanket to himself in the freezing cold apartment.

you pull your own fluffy throw closer, “There’s nothing to break off, Tetsu. There’s no label.”

Bokuto walks in, clad in a black tank top and volleyball shorts. “You can break off this unlabeled arrangement you have, Y/n! Just call it exactly that!” he smiles, hands on his hips standing proudly.

Akaashi coughs, “Bo, please put your air conditioning lower. We’re all going to get sick at this rate.”

Bokuto frowns, hands dropping to his sides. he walks to the thermostat, “Seriously? I think the temperature is fine.”

“That’s because you’re not human, you beast.” Kuroo snorts.

Bokuto turns around, looking scandalized. “I’m not a beast! You two are just weenies!”

you giggle, “Thank you for not including me with them, Kou.”

he salutes you with a cute little grin.

so maybe your friends were against your… situation with Kiyoomi. but you knew what you were doing, and while he might not want a relationship right now, you’re sure you can change his mind over time.

naive, perhaps, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart.

✾

everything comes to a head at one of their volleyball games.

you’re invited, of course. being friends with a few of the boys had allowed you to show up earlier and get seats in the front row.

it’s not your first game, but you’re excited nonetheless.

until you see Kiyoomi with someone unfamiliar.

she’s pretty, almost unearthly pretty. her hair is long, and cascades down her back like those magical waterfalls one would find deep in the forest. her smile is perfect, not crooked in the slightest. and when she greets him, her dainty hand smoothes over the skin of his arm; you walk faster.

Kuroo greets you first, with Akaashi and Bokuto coming behind him. you give them all your best wishes, but you can’t stop the uneasy feeling in your stomach at the sight of Sakusa with that girl.

when Akaashi sees your line of sight, he grimaces sympathetically. “Ah, that’s one of his friends from high school.”

your eyes shoot to his, and you wonder what expression you’re showing, because he comes closer and wraps you in a hug. you release a breath at the touch, letting yourself relax as he pats your back.

when you go to greet Sakusa, the girl is still there.

she’s sticking to him like a leech.

you try to get rid of the rude thoughts as you approach. she didn’t deserve your jealousy, nobody did. because you did this to yourself.

“Hi, Kiyo.” you smile.

he smiles back at you, and though it is small, it’s there. something in you settles when you think about how far the two of you have gotten.

the girl beside him is looking at the two of you curiously, but all you do is give her an awkward grin and turn back to Kiyoomi.

“Um, I just wanted to say good luck. I have a surprise for you, i’ll give it to you after the game.”

he raises a brow, intrigued. “You can’t give it to me now?”

you huff out a laugh. “No, silly. It’s a reward for you playing today. I know you’ll do well regardless of the outcome.”

his face smoothes out as he nods, “Okay, I’ll be waiting then.”

without another word you wave and turn around, walking to the seats and taking one in the front. you feel odd being the first to leave, but it was clear that the girl was not going to her seat until the game started. and while you’d like to talk to Kiyoomi more, you know you have to control yourself before you do something stupid like show him your jealousy.

the game goes by quickly, with your university winning the match. you cheer loudly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. it’s times like these that you truly cherish the joy in life. even though you hadn’t played in the game yourself, you can practically feel the positive energy radiating off of the players, and it fills you with excitement.

you run down and across the court, moving to hug your friends as you congratulate them.

“Y/n are you going to come with us to get dinner? Please say yes!” Bokuto widens his eyes, bottom lip curling into a pout.

you smile, happy to be included but knowing you have to decline. “Sorry, Kou. I already have plans with Kiyoomi. Can we raincheck?”

he nods sadly, and Akaashi pats him on the back in consolation.

“Have fun at dinner! I’m going to find Kiyoomi.” you wait till they exit the gymnasium before turning around and looking for the tall dark-haired man you were enamored with.

you can’t seem to find him through the crowd and the thought has you frowning anxiously. you stumble inside the group of people, breathing out when you finally see the end of the mob. with another exhale, you look up.

you see red.

because there is Kiyoomi, with the small pretty girl in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck. their faces lean in together, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume they were about to kiss.

without even knowing what you’re doing, you march right up and grab his arm, tugging him into you with as much force as you can muster.

he looks down at you with wide eyes, and even though his hair is damp with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his skin, you find him to be the prettiest in the room.

suddenly realizing how this looked, you let go of his arm and step back. “What were you two doing?” you ask, voice soft yet loud enough for him to hear. the crowd has begun to disperse, leaving only the team and their friends in the gymnasium.

the girl looks awkward, glancing between you and Kiyoomi before taking a step back. “Uh, I’m gonna get going now. I’ll text you later, ‘Omi.”

your eye twitches at the nickname, and when Kiyoomi simply nods at her, you feel like you’re losing your mind.

he says nothing to you as he moves to pack his things, stuffing his towel in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even glance at you as he walks out, with you trailing after him like a lost puppy.

the walk to his apartment is short, but because of the silence it feels much longer; much more painful, like every step is with your bare foot onto glass.

when you finally arrive at his place, he shuts the door and tosses his gym bag to the side before turning to you.

“Want to explain what that was?” his face is cold, and the uncaring way he speaks to you makes you nervous.

you swallow, “Shouldn’t you explain? Why were her arms… Why did it look like you two were dating, or something? Why did you let her touch you like that?”

he chuckles, though it has none of the sweetness that it is normally laced with. “Why the fuck does it matter? You’re not my girlfriend.”

surprisingly, the words don’t hurt as much as you thought they would. no, you knew that already. what really makes your skin burn is the way he looks at you.

you feel dread creep up on you, goosebumps arising on your skin as you shiver. the look in his eyes is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the normally fond gaze you are granted with.

maybe that’s why it twists the metaphorical knife that is lodged in your stomach, scarlet blood seeping out as the squelch rings in your ears. it feels far too real, you can almost see him holding the knife as it digs deeper into your flesh.

“I never liked that about you.”

it's vague, but you feel like you understand what he means regardless. you ask him to clarify despite yourself. “Never liked what?” you whisper. your hands are shaking; you hold them behind your back to conceal it.

“The way you act around me. Like we’re in a loving relationship when really, we’re just friends who sleep together sometimes.” the words spoken are firm, leaving no room for you to even question whether he means them or not.

“I’m sorry?” you sound breathless, asking him to confirm what he had already said.

his eyes darken further, and you swallow harshly at the sight.

“You need me to say more to get it through your thick skull?” he scoffs, furious, and the sound cuts into your already wounded heart.

“I don’t like the way you coddle me. I don’t appreciate when you give me your opinions on things you know nothing about.” he pauses. you wait with bated breath, wondering how much more your heart could take.

“And, god, I really fucking hate when you show up at my games and smother me in front of everyone. It’s uncomfortable, and then you put me on the spot and act like you’re my fucking girlfriend.”

it feels like someone has plunged their hand through your chest, tearing you apart as they grasp onto your beating heart; you can almost picture it, the way the mangled organ thumps erratically as crimson liquid seeps out between their fingers.

you inhale shakily, “I just… I love you, I’m sorry.”

you look up, to see who’s holding your heart hostage.

“I don’t love you. I never have, and I never will.”

it’s him.

and fuck, it’s always him.

✾

two summers from now, Sakusa knows he’ll be playing volleyball professionally, for the first time.

he’ll have finished his fourth year of university, and he will be happy.

happiness.

Sakusa doesn’t exactly understand the emotion. sure, he’s felt anxiety, rage, and satisfaction, but happiness? what did that even entail?

he sits silently, trying to drone out the professors talks of another essay, and suddenly regrets taking a psychology class. because the amount of writing it required was a bit too much, even for him.

and then his thoughts go back to happiness.

oftentimes, Sakusa is told he looks mean; grouchy. and yet, he remembers an old conversation with Atsumu.

“So… you and Y/n?” Atsumu drawled.

Sakusa sighs, moving to pack up his things in the locker room. “It’s not like that, don’t go spreading anything.”

the blond raises his hands in mock surrender, wet hair sticking to his forehead. “Hey! I would never!”

and then he grins, though not as obnoxious as usual. it’s more kind, if anything, and Sakusa doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m just saying, ya seem a lot less grumpy these days. Happier.”

Sakusa pauses, staring at the chipped paint on the wall.

Atsumu sighs, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves to exit. “She’s good for ya, ‘Omi.” he pats his shoulder twice on his way out. “Don’t fuck it up, man.”

Sakusa stiffens; not at the action, but at his words. he quickly places everything in his bag before zipping it up and heading home.

if he’s a bit dazed at practice the next day, no one says anything.

when Sakusa lays in bed, he recounts the last time he spoke to you.

it’s been two weeks, and even though time has passed, it feels like just yesterday you were standing in his kitchen with your heart on your sleeve, letting him use it however he wished.

he remembers feeling furious at you, for so obviously disrespecting one of his good high school friends. and then you hadn’t even apologized, you’d instead pushed at him even more.

and then… he ruined everything.

he remembers the look on your face, the pure heartbreak in your irises as he carelessly spewed words he knew would hurt you.

it was not surprising when he walked into practice two days later to see glares of contempt by some of his teammates, who he knew were your friends. even Atsumu had looked at him and shook his head, and some part of him burned with shame. his mistakes were on display for everyone to see, and although he wanted to pull his walls even higher, he felt too distraught at the potential loss of you to bother.

he remembers laying in bed that night, finally deciding to break the silence between the two of you. but with a simple, ‘I’m sorry. Can we talk?’ he was able to find out that he was blocked.

he felt ice run through his veins, pausing at the vibrant red letters, spelling Not Delivered. he quickly opened Instagram and Twitter and found you had him removed and blocked there as well.

fuck.

he had really done it now, hadn’t he? he so naively believed that you simply needed space, and once he gave you a sincere apology the two of you could go back to the way things were; that you two could explore whatever non-platonic feelings he was beginning to develop for you.

but once he realizes the gravity of the situation, he wonders what the point is of experiencing love for the first time if it ends here.

it can’t end here.

he makes it his mission to try to meet you.

first he showed up to your Thursday class, knowing it ended at noon and you had a two-hour gap between your next one. he has a coffee in one hand and a freshly baked donut in the other. he drove across town to grab it, knowing it was your favourite. he knows a mere donut cannot make up for what he said to you, but it felt wrong coming empty handed to reconcile with you. not when you deserved everything and more.

except when you see him, you immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction.

the action stings, and he sighs once you are out of view. the bag with the donut in his hand feels heavy, his hand tingling with the rejection. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him so easily, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

I deserve this, he acknowledges.

I deserve this and worse.

it’s the next week when he has the chance to see you again; he knows you’re working, often meeting you at the cafe to pick you up and take you to his place home.

so with a deep breath, he walks in. the door bell chimes loudly, and he curses mentally when he realizes how deserted the place is at the moment. there’s only a few people inside; a man sitting in the corner as he types furiously on his laptop. a woman and two others sitting on the side as they sip on what he assumes is coffee or tea.

and then he looks to the front, where you stand, and your eyes are on him.

the moment he takes a step forward, you stumble back, as if burned. he stops, unsure if he should keep walking or simply say something as he stands ten feet away from you.

unfortunately for him, you seem to come back to reality and swiftly open the door where it explicitly states STAFF. a moment later, one of your coworkers walks out with their customer service smile, and he deflates.

third time’s a charm, he says to comfort himself. but even he knows it won’t be that easy.

it’s friday, and even though he had no idea if you’d be home, he figured it was worth a shot. so that’s how he finds himself at your door, with a bouquet of white Tulips in his arms.

“Hi! Is there anything I can help you with?”

he jumps slightly when he hears a high-pitched voice coming from behind him, turning around and smoothing out his face.

“I’m not sure.” he states quietly.

“That’s okay! Is there anything in specific you’re looking for? A colour, or a meaning, perhaps?”

he frowns; it feels like all he’s been doing is frowning lately. “Uh, maybe something bright? Or… something that symbolizes forgiveness?”

she smiles sympathetically, and he wonders what expression he must be showing to warrant such a response from a stranger.

and that’s how he finds himself here. he shuffles on his feet, clutching the flowers to his chest protectively. with a soft inhale, he raises his fist and knocks.

silence.

he rings the doorbell this time, and still nothing.

he exhales quietly, his head dropping as he stares at the old carpet that covered the hallways in your apartment building. he’s been here so many times with you, but now he sees nothing but the back of your door and he has nobody but himself to blame.

he stands in front of your place for an hour, mindlessly staring at the wall as he recalls his words to you. how you’d handed your heart to him with your bare hands, only for him to treat it as though it meant nothing to him.

so on Sunday, he lays in bed and recounts the last two weeks.

he wants to wallow in self-pity, but then he hears banging on his door and wonders which unlucky soul will encounter his wrath.

he swings the door open, face emotionless and mouth ready to open and hurl insults at the other, until he sees his one and only cousin, Komori.

“Hey man!” his cousin smiles, innocent and happy.

Sakusa hates it.

his shoulders slump as all anger vanishes, exhaustion left in its wake. “What are you doing here, Moyota,”

he walks back to his room as Komori closes the door. “because if you can’t tell, i’m busy.”

Komori snorts, “Busy doing what? Moping?”

Sakusa glares at him, but in his disheveled state he merely looks like a feral wounded puppy. he crawls back under his covers, face smushed inside his pillow as he feels the other side of the bed dip.

“Get your outside clothes off my bed, Moyota.”

he hears a huff before the pressure is gone, and wills himself to sleep.

“Listen, I know you’re upset about what happened with Y/n, but sitting in your sadness won’t get you anywhere.”

Sakusa continues to lay there. “Mhm.”

Komori ignores the dry response, “There’s a party on Friday. You should go.”

“Why should I go to a party? You want me to drink my sorrows away?” his voice comes out muffled but he’s sure Komori can hear him regardless.

“Y/n will be there.”

that gets his attention. he sits up, the covers pooling at his waist as he crosses his arms. “How do you know?” his eyes narrow.

Komori rolls his eyes, “Because, I overheard Kuroo asking her to come on the phone. Something about him finding her someone new to replace you.”

he clenches his fists, feeling the burn of jealousy take over. replace him? he knew you were well-liked in your program, often waving at people whenever the two of you walked together on campus. he was not ignorant of the stares you’d get from fellow students. but it didn’t matter then because he knew his eyes were on you, and yours were on him.

but now everything’s different.

now, your eyes are not solely on him. the thought has his chest hurting in a way that he can only describe as a stabbing pain.

“I’ll go.”

✾

the week passes by too slow for Sakusa, but he knows it’s only because he’s missing you. when friday arrives, he’s feeling somewhat optimistic about meeting you and hopefully reconciling.

he scrunches the products in his hair, freshly washed from the shower. he’s wearing black slacks and a matching button-up. he places a few rings on his hands and moves to dry his hair with a cotton t-shirt once more before exiting his room.

“About time, dude. Why is your hair routine so complicated?” his cousin complains from his place on the couch, looking at him expectantly.

Sakusa grabs his keys on the counter, “My hair isn’t pin-straight, that’s why. Why are you still sitting down, let’s go.”

Komori rises with a shake of his head as he walks to the front door and slips on his shoes. Sakusa waits for him to leave before locking the door and following him to his car.

the drive seems unreasonably fast, and his palms feel sweaty as he wipes them on his pants. he’s suddenly thankful he chose to wear black bottoms.

when he walks inside the house, he’s immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. it’s absolutely disgusting, and he has to remind himself why he’s there as he takes another step forward.

“Let’s go to the back! It’ll be less busy there!” Komori raises his voice, but Sakusa can just barely hear his words. he nods and follows his cousin to another room, breathing out in relief when he notices there are fewer people.

Sakusa subtly shuffles towards an empty corner, knowing Komori is following him. he turns around, leaning on the wall, “These people are revolting. When is Y/n getting here?”

Komori scratches his head, tapping at his phone with one hand. “Not sure, let me check with my friends. I’ll ask where Kuroo is.”

he scowls, “Why would that matter?”

“Because he wouldn’t leave her alone at a party.” Komori shrugs. “They’re real close.”

something in his chest feels tight at his cousins words. you and Sakusa were once close; and if you forgave him, he’d let you be even closer. he just has to apologize and hopefully smooth everything over.

a part of him itches to go and search for you himself. he feels on edge, knowing you are so close yet so far away. it unsettles him, the thought that if you don’t forgive him he’ll have to watch you from afar, and accept that someone will love and care for you all the ways he didn’t.

but - does he love you? he cares for you, immensely at that. but does he love you?

he thinks about your pretty eyes, always filled with affection. he thinks about your ability to make people feel comfortable around you within minutes. he thinks about your small hands, your shy smile, the feeling of your hair when he twirls a lock around his finger as you lay in his bed. he thinks about how you look with the sun seeping through the crack in the curtains, skin glowing and lips slightly parted as you exhale softly.

his heart beat echos in his ears. he feels a flush take over his face and places the back of his hand on his forehead. he suddenly feels hot.

maybe he has a fever? but so suddenly? he swallows, the sound echoing in his head.

and then he finally sees you, drink in hand as you throw your head back and laugh.

his heart beats loudly in his chest.

he places a hand above it, feeling the erratic thumps beneath his palm.

ah.

so he loves you.

Sakusa waits.

he waits in the corner, a drink in his hand, courtesy of Komori as he subtly stares at you from across the room.

it’s been about an hour, and you’ve yet to notice him. he cherishes the time, observing you from afar. he watches you giggle and wrap your arms around your friends, the gaping hole you’d left in his heart the moment you walked out of his life grows by the minute.

he’s contemplating what to do when you finally lock eyes with him.

he watches the smile slowly slip off your face, something akin to agony colouring your eyes.

he begins to walk towards you, not breaking eye contact for a second. it's like he's entranced. and when he’s right in front of you, he feels breathless; like your existence has left him at a loss for words.

“Hey.”

his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat when your lips tug downwards.

your friends are looking at him with distaste, even Bokuto who normally sports a happy grin seems fairly upset. it makes him realize what a huge fuck-up he is.

he shifts on his feet, “Can we talk?”

Kuroo answers for you. “No, you can’t. You’ve said enough to her.” he steps in front of you, shoulders pushed back.

Sakusa feels irritation bubble in his chest, but pushes it down, knowing that Kuroo has a reason to be protective over you.

“I just want to apologize. And, confess something.” his voice comes out more desperate than he thought it would. it sounds fragile, even to his own ears.

Kuroo deflates, if only slightly. “It’s still a no. Find someone else to mess around with.”

“I'm not messing around. I just, I need to talk to her. Please.” the cup in his hand is beginning to bend, the cheap plastic cracking as the drink sloshes around.

Kuroo opens his mouth to what he assumes refuse him again, until a small hand grabs onto his arm and steps in front of him.

he watches as you let go of Kuroo, looking more composed than you had been before.

“It’s okay, Tetsu. I can handle this.” your voice makes his skin tingle. he realizes how much he’s missed it.

Sakusa’s shoulders drop in relief. he feels so happy that you decided to talk to him, he doesn’t even care that your friends are glaring him down.

“But-”

you cut Kuroo off, “Really, it’s fine. I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Kuroo looks like he wants to argue, but you give him a look that has him backing down.

he huffs, “Fine. Just be careful. Call me if he does anything.”

Sakusa stops himself from scoffing, annoyed with Kuroo’s words. what would he do at this point? what could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?

you pat Kuroo on the arm and walk past Sakusa, turning back. “Let’s go.” you don’t wait for a response before continuing, and he follows you without a glance at your friends.

he tries to control his breathing, attempting to keep it steady as you enter the backyard. it’s empty, the chilly night air keeping everyone inside.

you turn around, crossing your arms. “So? You wanted to talk?”

he licks his lips, rubbing his forearm with his hand. he’s thankful that he threw his drink out at the garbage can near the back door. he can feel his hands shaking, and hopes you don’t notice.

“Yeah.” he exhales, “How have you been?”

you shrug, expression guarded. “Fine.”

he nods, expecting the dry answer but still feeling a bit dejected.

“I miss you.”

the words come out so abruptly. the two of you stare at each other in shock, and he almost raises a hand to cover his mouth.

god, why did he just say that?

you laugh, but it comes out less genuine than he’s ever seen. “You should be happy you don’t have someone pretending to be your girlfriend, right?”

his face drops, and he knows whatever expression he’s showing is not as stoic as he thought. because with one glance at his face you look like you almost regret your words.

“I was.. I was so fucking stupid that night. I know you have no obligation to forgive me, but please let me apologize.”

you stare at him silently, before nodding.

Sakusa breathes out, “I’m sorry. Nothing I said was true. I was just… angry. Not at you, at myself. I had been denying how I felt for so long and when you asked me who that girl was, I just lost it.”

he stares at the grass rather than your face, not wanting to know if you look at him with an unforgiving gaze. “I realized that I had unintentionally entered a sort of- relationship with you. I was scared. I still am.”

he lifts his gaze finding your wide eyes. “It was an unintentional relationship, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”

he pauses, “Of course, except when I ruined everything. I’ve stayed up every night since it happened thinking about how I could have responded differently.” his lips tug up, the expression bitter.

“Because it was after that I realized my feelings for you.”

your brows furrow, your eyes darting around his face in pure confusion. “What are you saying, Sakusa?”

he ignores the ache of you using his last name, “That I have feelings for you.”

the silence is deafening as crickets chirp in the silent night.

“I love you, Y/n.”

you stagger back, as if wounded. you shake your head, “No, no. You don’t love me, Sakusa.”

he doesn’t understand your response. sure, you wouldn’t be elated. he knew you were still upset. but you look like you genuinely don’t believe him, like you refuse to believe him. he feels like he’s going to collapse if you walk away without acknowledging his feelings.

“What? I’m serious, Y/n. I love you.” he reaches a hand out, drawing back when you flinch.

“I’m in love with you.” he whispers.

you look at him, as though he has caused you immense pain, before turning away and running back into the house.

Sakusa stands there, alone in the dark.

he wonders if love is supposed to be so painful; if he will always be the one to inflict the pain, cause the heartache, and leave everything in ruins.

✾

"Shit." you curse as you stare at the empty fridge in front of you. an old bar of havarti cheese and two stale apples stare mockingly at you.

so perhaps you haven't gone grocery shopping in quite a while, but you've been busy! with assignments, your friends, and... Sakusa, you have had too much on your head to worry about things like restocking your fridge.

but now it's nearly midnight, and you have yet to eat dinner. your stomach rumbles at you, and you press a hand to it in annoyance.

you can skip a meal, it's not the end of the world.

but then your stomach rumbles again, and it's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

you check your phone, just to see if you can order in. but with one glance at the delivery price, you click your phone off. you stare at the sad-looking apples and cheese once more, making up your mind.

the convenience store is about a ten-minute walk, five if you run.

without another thought, you grab a hoodie from the coat rack and put it on. you pick up your apartment keys and slip into your shoes, bracing yourself for the cold air.

the walk ends up being somewhat soothing, the normally lively city is quieter. you use the time to think about your relationship - or lack thereof, with Sakusa. you still remember when he professed his love for you two weeks ago.

you remember rushing back into the party and telling your friends you had to leave. Kuroo drove you home, and you spent the night eating leftover icecream and binging Jujutsu Kaisen.

why couldn't you date someone like Gojo?

but then you think someone calmer, more steady would suit your personality well. someone who you could rely on and with a bit of sarcasm perhaps. someone who has dark hair; you always liked curly hair on men.

someone like him.

Sakusa Kiyoomi.

your thoughts are cut off when you finally get to the store. the lights are bright underneath the dark sky, the bell chiming when you open the door. you quickly grab a few rice balls, and walk to the cashier. it takes you a total of three minutes to get what you want, before you're walking back out with a plastic bag in hand.

you look up as you walk, the stars twinkling prettily. they remind you of his eyes.

you really wish you could stop thinking about him.

Sakusa makes you feel like you've caught a never-ending sickness. like you will wake up each day with your chest in pain, with your eyes swollen from crying paired with your unstable emotions.

its exhausting, you think; caring about people to a point where they cannot understand or reciprocrate your feelings. and then you always end up like this. alone. you wonder how long it will take for the other people you cherish to leave you too.

your thoughts come to a halt when you hear footsteps behind you.

its dark outside, the streetlights only providing a dim yellow glow as you walk. when you turn your head, you notice a man in a hood. your heart immediately plummets.

fuck, what had you been thinking? you should have ordered delivery, screw the price! the money wasn't worth your life.

you walk faster, noticing the person speeding up their steps. your breathing is becoming heavier, and you can feel your legs trembling as you continue to walk. you know you can't go home, otherwise he will know where you live.

you make a detour to head to a park you've been to many times. it was about a five-minute walk from your place, and the thought has you walking faster anxiously.

when you hear his footsteps draw closer, you turn your head and see he is much closer than before.

your breath hitches, and you find yourself tearing up in fear.

you are about to resort to an offensive stance, prepared to swing your bag of riceballs at his head when you bump into something.

you gasp loudly, flinching so harshly at the suddenness of the situation. you look up, finding familiar dark eyes. they look at you with bewilderment, but all you can think about is the pure relief that pools in your stomach, the tears building up in your eyes finally falling.

you rush forward and wrap your arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent. your shoulders are trembling, but they calm slightly when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and the other smooth over your upper back.

he looks over your shoulder, and you are unsure what expression he is showing. "Did you need something?" his voice comes out deep and - angry. you wonder if you are hallucinating the protectiveness that coats his tone. his arms tighten around you further, causing you to relax in his embrace.

you wait, body stuck to his. you hear footsteps retreating, and breathe out shakily.

"He's gone." he says, voice low.

you nod, but you stay in your position for a few minutes, content to bury yourself in his embrace after such a terrifying situation.

"Kiyoomi?" you look up, placing your hands on his chest.

he tilts his head downwards, "Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?" his brows are furrowed, lips pursed. he looks extremely concerned, and you feel surprised that he seems to care about you so much.

you shake your head slowly, "No, he didn't do anything. I'm - i'm fine." you lick your lips, trying to convince yourself to believe your own words.

Sakusa doesn't answer you, but he does turn his head and glance back before looking down at you. "I'll walk you home. Are you okay to walk? I can carry you."

you don't have much energy left, but you manage to laugh anyway. "I can walk, thank you."

you gently push at his chest, even though you want to continue to stay in his arms. you don't have that privilege any longer, and you shouldn't have assumed you had it in the first place.

you nod, however, and accept his offer to walk you home. you'll let yourself be selfish just this once, and then you'll let him go.

the walk back is silent, but Sakusa sticks close to you. you feel safe with him next to you, regardless of the fact that he hurt you so deeply.

he seems to protect you from others, but never from himself and his words. you sigh tiredly at the thought.

when you get to your apartment, he insists on walking you up. once at your door, you look at him and shuffle on your feet awkwardly.

"Uh, thanks for helping me back there and walking me home. I'll go inside now." you reach for your doorknob but he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. his head dips down, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

"Please, just talk to me. I can't handle this." his voice makes you shiver, and you curse your body for reacting that way to him.

you lick your lips, "Can't handle what?"

he opens his eyes, tilting his head further down to catch your gaze. "You being mad at me. You ignoring me. Please, tell me what I need to do to fix this."

the two of you are standing so close, your cheeks heat up at the proximity. he still makes you so nervous after two years of knowing him, and the thought has you annoyed with your weak heart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips. "I don't know. You really hurt me, Sakusa."

he looks at you, face pained. like you being upset is causing him pain, and your chest aches to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

the words bring you back to that night, where you bared your heart to him and he trampled on it without a thought. you feel the urge to let more tears slip out, but you are tired of crying over people that do not care for you. you are tired of being the one that loves more.

but he looks different now. his eyes are filled with remorse, and you want to kiss his frown away. maybe, just maybe, this time you wouldn't be the one who loved too much for their own good.

he wipes a thumb underneath your eye, swiping over your cheek. you hadn't even realized you were crying until the concern in his face grew. it makes you feel embarrassed and angry at yourself, but you can’t find it in you to refuse his comfort.

"You don't mean that, Kiyoomi." your voice cracks involuntarily.

he shakes his head pushing your foreheads closer to one another. "I do, I mean it. I'll say it a million times until you believe me."

you huff out a shaky breath. "A million times is a bit dramatic."

"I'd do it for you." he moves his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action has butterflies erupting in your stomach, unused to something so innocently romantic.

"You realize we have a lot to talk about? It won't be easy. I can't forgive you so quickly." you lean closer, tilting your head up.

he leans his head downwards. "I know. I'm sorry, just give me a chance and we can talk about it. I'll work hard to make you forgive me." the words are whispered close to your lips, his breath hitting your face. the minty scent is so Kiyoomi, it has your heart fluttering.

you know you have a lot to talk about. you can't just gloss over the month you spent apart, and you would have to talk to your friends about your choice to give him another chance. it would be difficult, and a risk. you were tired of pouring love into people who could not understand its substance.

but perhaps you can hope; you can hope that this time things will be different. that you'll love someone who will love you back all the same.

"Okay." you say softly.

he smiles, and you wonder if you are imagining the glassy look in his eyes. "Okay?"

you nod, whispering once more. "Yeah, okay."

he tilts his head down and captures your lips with his own, one arm sliding around your waist and the other in your hair, tugging you impossibly close.

you gasp into it, not expecting the desperation that leaks from his lips. he pushes you against the wall, with you wrapping your arms around his neck.

tomorrow, you'd have a lot to think about. you'll have to talk to him and figure out what's in store for the two of you. you will also have to face people who will surely disagree with your decision.

but that was a problem for the future.

for now, you're content to focus on the warm lips on your own.

EXTRA:

"So, what happened with that girl anyway?" your cheek is smushed on Kiyoomi's chest as the two of you lay in bed. you had come over to his place after his practice, and you were enjoying the skinship and cuddles.

he shifts underneath you, "Which girl?" his voice is drowsy, and you know he's falling asleep. you can't help yourself though, you've been curious.

you lift your head, smiling at his tired eyes. "The one from the game. She kept touching you."

you watch recognition fill his eyes as he hums, "She asked me to grab a coffee a few days after the game. Haven't responded though."

you nod, satisfied. "Are you going to? Respond, that is."

he turns, large arm wrapping around you. "Why would I do that when I have you? I'd rather the both of us get coffee sometime."

you laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?"

he smiles sleepily, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Yes. Let's get coffee soon."

you giggle, snuggling closer. "Okay, sounds good to me."

the surprise you had wanted to give to him after the game sits on his wall, framed and beside his bed. the drawing is one of your best, filled with the overwhelming love you know you could only ever offer to Kiyoomi.

love has always been something daunting for you. to love so wholeheartedly meant the likelihood of someone hurting you was greater. but you don't regret anything, not the slightest bit.

because you know how much love you have to offer, and as long as its to the right person, you know he'll keep your heart safe.

you love him, and you're not sorry.

a/n: 9.7k words later i refuse to read this again:’)

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa fluff #sakusa angst #haikyuu angst to fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #sakusa x y/n #sakusa imagines

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