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#Think hes feeling bad about not knowing what to do about his future and work and so on... And like... Yeah same but ... I am in a diffrent
diorchids · 1 day
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after-class, simon ‘ghost’ riley.
cw; professor!simon, age gap, teacher-student, manipulation, oral, impact (spanking), size kink, degradation, rough sex.
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your professor was harsh. grading-wise, he never let the smallest things slide. he docked points pettily, even for minor errors. 
“thank you for your participation today, class dismissed.” as your classmates began to pack up, preparing for an exhausting day tomorrow. “but you,” he looks at you, standing in that small dress, in one of the front rows. “you will stay.” 
your mouth was left slightly agape, brushing the hair out of your face as you questioned yourself. did you forget to submit an assignment? a discussion post overdue?
you nod slowly as the last people begin to make their way out the doors. he spoke from his desk, sitting on it as he motioned for you to come down, “what are you waiting for? here, come here.” he said it in a way that made you feel dumb. you made your way to him, fingernails digging into your palm, sure to leave marks. 
you stood a few feet away from him, keeping an appropriate distance from simon. after all; he’s your professor. 
“your research paper; was lousy. i wouldn’t have expected it from you, to be honest,” he said bluntly, emotions weren’t very visible. he was just… neutral. 
your face—on the other hand—was hot, a soft frown crept onto it as your head filled with thoughts. this was bad, but you couldn’t help but think of how long he must’ve thought about you and your paper. “i… professor riley, i honestly thought it was my best work,” you continued, “the writing was—” 
he interrupted blatantly, and you slowly inched closer subconsciously. “simon. call me simon.” your fingers fiddled with your dress before nodding. “yes, sir—simon.”
you stood in front of him as you two sat in an awkward silence, while he examined your body. your dress was just too short, not appropriate for class, too much showing. his big hand reached out to your dress, gripping and tugging it as you watched silently. your eyes were wide, his eyes were half-lidded as he sat back. “dress code.” 
it wasn’t a dress code. you have no dress code—he just wanted to touch you. 
he exhaled and pinched his temples, “y’know,” he sighed, “you’re a great writer, you know what you’re doing. but this… it’s unacceptable,” you’re not used to letting him down like this, always making sure to do your best in all of your courses. 
“you’re a big girl now. you’re borderline failing my course.” 
you blink back tears as you dig your nails deeper into your palm. you’re so sensitive, can’t even take a bit of criticism. he continued speaking as you listened intently. his hand slowly crept its way to your leg as you watched shamefully, failing to stop the man. 
“this could be bad for you, hm?” he asked, tilting his head. “i’m sure you wanna write in the future, don’t you?” he stood up, your tall professor towering over you, “you let me finish what i’ve started, and i could up your grade a bit.” he took advantage of the size difference, your height in comparison to him was, at the very least, small. 
you hesitated to nod your head. he was a professor wanting to take advantage of a student; how vile is that? 
“perfect.” 
you stood there aimlessly before he gently took one of your hands into his own and guided it toward his zipper. he held your hand against his bulge, urging you to squeeze and give him a good rub. 
simon lets out a low groan as you take his cock into your mouth. he cups your head gently, holding you in place as you begin to suck and lick on him.
his cock was thick, dragging in and out of your mouth as he pushed his hips back and forth, your warm throat taking him so well. he held the sides of your head, and you gagged around his ridiculous length each time he pushed into your mouth fully. 
“disgusting. look at you.” he pistoned his cock deeper as your eyes welled with tears before they down your face. his fingers tangle in your hair before pushing your head further down, your nose nestled in the short hairs along the base of his girthy cock. 
you needed air, you pulled off him abruptly as you coughed messily, catching your breath. your lips wrapped around his red, swollen tip perfectly while your hand stroked the base softly. 
his hips start to move rhythmically, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth roughly. he grabs your head tightly and starts thrusting deeper into your throat, pushing past the back of your mouth. “take it all. just like that.” he continued to use your throat as a fleshlight.
simon’s cock throbs in your throat, his balls slapping against your chin. your head is pounding by now, your legs burn and your neck hurts. don’t forget what you’re doing this for. 
“fuckin’ delicious, fuck.” he grinds against your face harder, his hips moving at a rapid pace as he approaches his climax. 
he groans loudly, his hot seed shooting down your throat in powerful spurts. he pumps his thick cum deep into your mouth, filling it to the brim. he continues to hold you in place, his cock twitching as he unloads it all into your mouth. “swallow it all,” he said in between labored breaths, still softly thrusting himself into your mouth.
“what an angel you are, hm?” you choke and gag as he pulls out, a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. he pants heavily with a smile plastered on his face while looking down at you in satisfaction. 
you’re bent over his desk as he delivers another painful strike across your ass, dress driven up to your hips as you squirmed. “you’re almost ready.” he said, big hand soothing your burning cheek. 
“hurts s’bad, sir—simon!” you cried out while his thick fingers made its way to your cunt. his thumb sat on your slit as he massaged your clit through your panties, small cherries on all over them. his finger dipped into your underwear, running over your wetness as you felt shame wash over you. 
doing all this just to not fail? letting your professor touch you like this—sucking him off while your friends were probably asleep. desperate was an understatement.
he played with your cunt ‘till you came all over him, poor thing can’t control your body, huh?
his thick cockhead tapped against your flush cunt, all sensitive and puffy from the abuse it’s suffered. you felt how big his cock was as it poked at your hole, his large hand guiding it up and dragging it all over your hole. he pushed into you as you cried in pain, tears rolling as he bottomed out inside of you. at least tried to.
his hands rest on your waist, gripping your hips as he fills you up to the hilt, groaning out disgusting degrading words, mumbling ‘bout how tight you are. 
“god, you’re tight. such a little thing—takin’ your teacher like this,” he delivers a harsh strike to your soft ass, “knew you’d be up for it.”
he dragged his heavy cock out of you just to plunge it back in, deeper. “mr. ri—simon! s’too big! n-no, no, no, slow down!” you cried out loudly as he held you in place, making sure you took him all the way. 
he chuckles softly and begins to thrust faster, his cock stretching you open as it slides in and out. he leans down to capture one of your nipples in between his index thumb, rolling and pinching harshly as he fucks you. “it's okay, you can take it. you’re gonna take it. you want a good grade.” his words reassuring, but also bits of condescension poked through. 
salty tears fell onto his desk as your legs trembled from the overstimulating heat in your tummy. 
simon picks up the pace, his hips slapping against you as he takes you harder and faster. he continues to roll your nipple, his free hand moving to grope your ass cheek. “tell your—tell your teacher how much you love his dick, tell me.” 
this was odd. he knows it’s wrong, to do this with a student. he acknowledges it, yet he loves the power he has over you. you’re like a puppet. 
you act like you don’t want it. you do. the way you suck him right back in, the way your gummy walls grip and squeeze his thick cock, you need this. 
“love it… love it s’much! feels so good, simon…” you cried loudly, making sure he heard you. 
his thrusts become deeper and harder, his cock hitting your deepest spots with each powerful stroke. simon’s free hand leaves your ass cheek to wrap around your throbbing clit, rubbing it roughly against your sensitive folds. each time his finger runs over your puffy clit, your walls tensed around him, practically choking his length. “that’s it… that’s it, cum for me.” 
with a final, rough thrust, simon groans loudly as he empties himself deep inside you. he slows his movements, his cock pulsating rhythmically inside you. he looks down at you, affectionately stroking your hair. he holds you tightly, your bodies moving in a rhythm as he continues to pump his seed into you.
he thrusts a few more times, getting those last spurts of cum out. 
“we can—we can discuss your grade tomorrow. how’s that sound?” his hand soothed your ass as you nodded. 
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cupidlovesastro · 11 hours
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asteroid groom(5129) through the signs and houses
ˏˋ♡̩͙♡̩̩̥͙♡̩̥̩♡̩͙ˊˎ ع˖⁺ ☁⋆ ୭ 🕊.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙⊹ ˏˋ♡̩͙♡̩̩̥͙♡̩̥̩♡̩͙ˊˎ. .
groom represents the male/ masculine counterpart of a marriage, aka the husband. if you are a man or present masculine, this could be about what you’re like in a marriage or as a husband
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[very long post ahead]
paid readings 🩵
aries- he could be a gym rat and very masculine, either in nature or physically. they could also be very action oriented, which could also mean they might be quite impulsive. they may also be competitive or be in a line of work that deals with competition. speaking of work, they could be a fitness trainer/ coach, in sports, or sales(because of competition). they could also be outspoken, outgoing, or just bold in some nature. he may also be aggressive, which that doesn’t mean it’s towards you. he could be the “mean to everyone else, but you” type lol. others may be intimidated by him due to his very masculine and possibly aggressive nature. he could also have a short temper
taurus- your future husband could be a chef, fashion designer, or just a job that’s makes a lotttt of money, since taurus can represent materialism. he may be quite lazy at home, or when he’s relaxing he’s RELAXING, like he just wants to chill out. he could also like spoiling you, buying you expensive gifts, or even spontaneous gifts. he may also care about his looks, and he could wear flashy things, designer clothing, or just things that look nice. they could also be very dependable, reliable, and loyal. he may also like helping you with cooking when he can, or even cook for you. if not that, then he really appreciates when you do that for him. he could have a more traditional way of living, or a traditional perspective on marriage
‧₊˚🩵✩ ₊˚🌐⊹♡𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧🫧‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
gemini- your husband could be in a job where the speak a lot or think a lot. he could be a linguist, a teacher, comedian, spokesman, or commentator. geminis are also know to be outgoing and jokesters, so they could be a youtuber, streamer, or comedian. he will show you his love with words of affirmations, or physical touch, since gemini rules the arms and hands. he could have a baby face, or look younger than his actual age. he may be talkative, or even a rambler lol. he could like kissing your arms or hand area as well. he may enjoy doing things that keep his brain active or they could have many hobbies that they rotate through. he could like going out a lot as well. he could seem or be superficial at times , and may also seem flakey as well. he could also have a hard time talking about his emotions
cancer- he may be in a line of work that deals with families, empathy, and/ or children. so his line of work could be family therapy, child therapy, school counseling, school teacher, and maybe even a pediatrician. he could be very caring, loving, and understanding. he may also be intuitive of your needs, and possibly even heal your inner child. he could be emotional though, which can be good and bad. he could dress like a dad even if he isn’t one, and may even have father like qualities. speaking of parents, he could have traits similar to your mother or he could look a lot like his mother or be a mamas boy. he can have moments where he’s quite snappy and he could show his love through physical touch
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leo- your husband could be in a job where he has a lot of attention, so jobs in the entertainment industry may be in his line of work. he could also have a job where he makes others feel confident so like a barber, interior designer, etc. he may have a very confident exterior, and great hair lol. he shows us love through physical touch, and maybe even words of affirmations. he could dress quite boldly or have a distinct style. he’s very expressive, wether that be emotionally or physically. he may also be dramatic lol. he could be the life of the party and very outgoing. he may also be veryyy masculine. like he works out, he’s very handy, logical, etc. he may also be very positive, and optimistic
virgo- he could be in a line of work that deals with a lot of analyzing and logic. so jobs like finance, statistics, or even engineering, could all be a possibility. i could also see he may be a veterinarian, or in social work of some kind. he could also be a very hygienic person, like you can smell detergent on his clothes, and his teeth are white, things like that. he could seem shy/ innocent, when you first meet him , or just in general. he also may have a baby face or he just looks younger than his actual age. he could be into working out as well, and may own a pet or two. he will show his love by doing things for you, like the dishes, helping you cook, etc. he’s could be reserved as well. he may be into skincare, and could even give his advice on your skincare lol
˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。˚₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧゚⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪₊ ⊹🪻 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🫐જ⁀➴
libra- your husband could be a lawyer, judge, or just something apart of the justice department. they could even be an activist, fashion designer, or relationship counselor. i could see him being very friendly and flirtatious. he may also be quite shallow at first, like he doesn’t go too deep into anything, unless you ask, or he’s ready to. he like having fun, and cares more about the pleasures of life than other things. he could be pretty balance in some way like, emotionally balance, or a balanced personality. he could have a symmetrical face, and he could also participate in skin care. since libra ruled the skin and aesthetics. which speaking of aesthetics, his may change , or he could have 1 aesthetic, but pulls it off really well
scorpio- he could be quite mysterious, or even in a line of work that’s mysterious. for example, he could be an investigator, in the cia, or even the navy seals. scorpio can also represent rebirth and de*th, so he could be into forensics or the hospital. he might be quite good at flirting, and somewhat of the serious type. he could wear dark clothes, have dark hair, or a dark eye color. he shows his love through physical touch. once you get to know him he could be quite touchy, like touching your hand, arms, or face a lot. he also could have a high sex drive so be ware of that lol. he could have intense eyes, presence, or voice as well.(not in a bad way) you could become obsessed with him, and/ or he could become obsessed with you(doesn’t have to be in a toxic way). he values loyalty a lot, and he’s also intuitive, so don’t lie to him because he could be able to catch onto easily
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sagittarius- he could be the adventurous, funny, and open minded type of guy. he might be in a line of work such as a philosopher, a college professor, travel agent, or other jobs that involve traveling. he could also have prominent or very muscular thighs, and he may also be quite brutally honest at times. he may also have a lot of opinions and could be reckless at times. he could also wear cultural items, or things that he got from different places in the world. he may show his love through quality time and words of affirmations. he might also come off noncommittal or you guys could’ve started off as making it clear that your not going to date and then ended up dating lol. he doesn’t like feeling tied down or like he has no freedom, and he may also feel this way towards you. he could want you to feel free as well, and he also wants to feel like your best friends with you!
capricorn- your husband could be in a career that’s makes a lot of money and is also ambitious. so sports, marketing, or even ceo/ boss of a company. he could also be an entrepreneur. he could have great bone structure, strong jawline, prominent collar bones, etc. he may also dress with flashy clothes like designer, or things that have diamonds in it. he could show his love through gift giving, and he could love spoiling you. he may also just give you money, like not even a gift, just money.💀he can be quite cold at times, or just distant. he may also get caught up in work very often, or just doesn’t know when to take a break. he could hate being unproductive because it makes him feel lazy. with that being said, having lazy days with him could be hard because he might do acts of service for you just to be productive lol.
༘⋆🌊🫧 ⋆˙ִֶָ𓂃𝑚𝑖 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑟 ༉‧🦋₊˚. 𝜗𝜚⊹˚. ♡₊ ⊹ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🪼✦
aquarius- he could be into technology, inventing, and could be apart of some kind of community. he may be an activist, since aquarius can also represent rebellion. they could care deeply about the world or a specific group of people. when you meet him he could be very social and friendly, but emotionally distant. he may be unpredictable with his aesthetic, words, or even behaviors (not in a bad way, it could be in a silly way). he’s also a logical thinker, but he may be an over thinker as well, since aquarius’s can represent the future. he could have many friends, or if he doesn’t, he makes acquaintances easily. he also likes standing on his own, he doesn’t want to seem dependent at all. he’s an observer, so he can pick up on social cues of a room easily, or the energy of it. he could show his love through quality time as well!
pisces- he’s giving me puppy vibes. he’s emotional, caring, compassionate, and loving. he could be into jobs like therapy, nurse, even a veterinarian. he’s also very intuitive, so he could pick up on your social cues or energies quite easily. he might be secretive as well, like you find out so much stuff about him over time because he didn’t tell you in the beginning. he may also be dreamy to you, like he’s literally your dream husband. he’s idealistic, and can be delusional at times. he may also have dreams often, and he could be interested in spirituality. he will show his love by physical affection. he could also be into feet, or specifically your feet😭. he could have dreamy eyes, and soft features. he may also dress in darker colors, or have an aesthetic that makes him come off mysteriously. he may also be a little ditsy, or just naive about certain topics
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the houses
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‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ ⋆.˚⟡🌧️⊹₊⋆ ⁀✮₊ ⋆.˚⟡⊹₊⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🌪️.ᐟ‎ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
1st house- your husband could care a lot about his appearance’s or looks. so he may have a distinct aesthetic to him, or you could catch him checking himself out at times lol. he may also have a genuinely good sense for fashion, vibes and aesthetics. he may be one of those people who are sensitive to first impressions and energies. like he might be able to learn and understand a lot about a person, just from first impressions. he could also have a big personality or just one that’s unique/ different from others. he might be very good at making good first impressions as well, and knows how to conduct himself in front of others depending on the environment, situation, people, etc. you could meet him in the beginning of the year, or beginning of the month, new moons, capricorn season, aries season, or even new era of your life.
2nd house- your husband might be money oriented or just make a lot of money. he may also prioritize his work as well. he also has some high standards, when it comes to relationships, or who he decides to marry. he could own things that he find special to him or he could be the possessive type over you. he could also spoil you and you are definitely one of his priorities. also, there could be something that you guys make apart of your daily routine. it could be having dinner together, or just taking time out of your day to spend time with each other. you guys could meet at a work place, or while looking for a job. you could also meet when you are doing one of your routines like going to the gym, getting groceries etc. i could also see that you could meet them on the 2nd or 22nd, february, taurus season or aquarius season.
✧˖°.₊ ⊹⋆.˚🧊₊˚⊹♡࿐ ࿔*・゚✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ જ⁀➴₊⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
3rd house- he could be very logical or just someone who’s an overthinker. he also might be quite talkative, or you feel like it’s easy to talk to him than other people in your life. you guys could be neighbors or neighbors at one point. you may also have met this person in early childhood, and you could also know them through a sibling. he could have a lot of siblings himself, or be close to his neighbors. he’s definitely a communicator, and the times where he doesn’t communicate, could be an indicator that something is wrong. you guys could also engage in social activities, like going to bars, clubs, parties, etc. you could meet him on the 3rd, the 30th’s, march, pisces season or gemini season
4th house- your husband could may have motherly energy, or be close with his mother. he could have a lot of respect for feminine figures in his life as well. he could really want children for his future, or may already have one/ some. he could be a good dad as well. he could also really want a family of his own, or is close to his family. he is like a traditional thinking man when it comes to marriage, like he wants to marry, have a family, and just be a good father. he might also like the idea of you being pregnant, or getting you pregnant, so be careful 😭. he could have a womanly side as well, like a feminine side. you could meet him through a family member, or your mother. you might also meet him while picking up your kid if you have one, or a place where there’s a lot of children. he also might prioritize self care days a lot, he could also want to spend his self care days with you as well
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5th house- he could be a huge romance and also a child at heart. he could also be quite creative and a joyful person or more optimistic, or upbeat. you guys could meet through drama club, or when something dramatic was going on. you guys could’ve even met at a museum that has art, a art class, or other forms of creativity. he may also have a child, or really want children. you may also meet him when your in a happier time in your life, or maybe a time where you discover inner child. he could get along with children as well, and may enjoy things such as plays, or even have a form of art as a hobby of his. he may also express his love through art, like poetry, drawings, paintings, etc.
6th house- your future husband could be a gym rat, or just care a lot about health and fitness. he may be a teacher for health and fitness, or a fitness trainer. you could’ve met him at the gym , on a walk/ run, or in some other form of physical health class. he could be analytical, or even work a job where he deals with numbers and statistics. i can also see he may be in a line of work like nursing, therapist, etc. i could also see he may be he may also be a people pleaser. he finds validation through helping others. you may also meet while volunteering for something. he could have a lot of pets, or really wants one. he might just be an animal lover as well lol. you could meet at a pet store, or while volunteering for animals
₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ 𐚁⊹₊ 🧿⋆ ☾⊹₊ ⋆ ˖ ݁𖥔 𐙚⋆。°🪩✩ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆🎐。˚ ⋆˚✿
7th house- your partner could really value a relationship, or partnership with you. he also may embody husband energy. he could talk about marriage a lot , or seem like he might be ready to settle down with someone when you meet him. he could also be in a job where he works with married couples or something with justice. he could be a marriage counselor, a lawyer, a debater, etc. you could also meet him at work during a group meeting/ activity or when finding a business partner. he may also love your skin, or touching your skin. he might even have unique/ beautiful skin himself
8th house- you could meet him while hooking up, or on a sneaky link. you could also meet him while moving houses, or he could even work as a realtor. he may also be a sex therapist or have a job that surrounds sexual things. he could come off shallow at first, or like he doesn’t have much depth and this could make him come off as a mystery. he could also value sexual intimacy a lot , and it may be something that is a theme in your relationship. he could also like giving you money, or buying you things, vice versa. moving in together could also be something he really wants. there could be a lot of similarities between you two, almost like your the same person in a different body.
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9th house- this person could travel a lot and/ or know a lot about other cultures. they may also connect a lot to their own culture. you may meet them on a trip somewhere, or while participating in some kind of cultural event. he may also be very smart, like he’s beyond his years. he could have a lot of different philosophies or study that subject. he may also have many degrees, or when you meet him he will be working to get a degree. you could also meet him during a religious ceremony, doesn’t have to be church tho. he may also like touching your thighs or he could have big/ unique thighs himself
10th house- he could be very hard working, or just a very goal oriented person. he may also care a lot about his reputation/ status or he could have a high status. he may be known somehow. he may also be very masculine, and give off dad energy lol. he may be a father in fact, or really wants to be a dad one day. there may also be a certain relationship he has with his dad, like maybe he loves him or hates him. there may also be something that he is very educated on, like an expert at. he could keep you in line , or values structure, routine, and plans, rather than spontaneous things. you could meet him in the career you have , or you could meet him through your dad/ dad figure. if your high status, then maybe even that.
౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆ 💠ೀ⋆。˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*🌧️:・.𖥔 ݁˖ 🌀✦ ‧₊˚⋅⋆⭒˚。⋆🪩
11th house- your husband might work somewhere that deals with technology, or he could even have a degree that relates to technology. you could meet him online, like through a social media platform. you guys could be friends at first and then it leads to more, or you may have met through friends. there could’ve also been a group gathering you met at. like a party, concert, etc. you could’ve manifested him as well, or he could’ve manifested you. he could also be somewhat intuitive since 11th house can represent the future, and you could be exactly what he wished for or hoped for. when you guys go on dates , or your first date, you could often bring along friends, coworkers, etc. his love language could be words of affirmation.
12th house- your husband could work at a funeral, a recovery of some kind, a nursing home, a median, and other spiritual things. you may meet him when something is ending in your life, like a relationship, quitting a job, end of the year, end of school or a semester, etc. he may be very intuitive so don’t lie to him lol, and he could also be quite connected to the after life. he may also be connected to his dreams. you guys could get married in a secluded area, like a forest or even eloping. they may have limiting beliefs that you two could need to work through as well. if your really into astrology, tarot, crystals, etc, he may be interested in learning about it too and listening to things you say like that. he could make you feel. he may also be intuitive with/ to your needs
paid readings 🩵
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zoeykallus · 20 hours
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Hello there!
Would you mind giving us something angsty? Like, Reader confesses her love to the batchers (and maybe Rex and Mayday?). They do feel the same, but they react in the wrong way somehow, so that reader gets hurt, but in the end there is something like a happy end? Like separate little short fics or one-shots.
I know that's probably a lot of work, so please don't feel pressured to do this.
Aloha! Yeah, I think I can do that 😊
The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions
Part 1/7 - Tech
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Warnnings: Love Confessions/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff
Masterlist Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
AC: I tried to tackle this one with the thought in mind that Tech is/might be in some autistic spectrum. Now please don't throw any stones at me, I have no real life experience on that subject, so I kinda wrote this one the way I feel Tech after almost three season.
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You've had feelings for him for a while now. Your heart beats faster, you feel warm when he approaches you and your eyes meet. You could listen to him day and night, no matter what he talks about. You think a part of him knows this, must know it, because when he discovers something new and wants to tell someone about it, he usually comes to you automatically. Because you listen to him attentively, every time. Your feelings go beyond friendship, you long to be close to him, you miss him every second he's not around. But you know Tech is somehow different. Sometimes he's very forthcoming, seems to enjoy being around you, but other times, he's more distant, almost as if he's trying to keep you at arm's length, as if he can't handle your presence right now. You have no idea how exactly to assess this behavior, it often feels like a roller coaster ride. It's not always easy to deal with and adjust to. But you want to do the right thing, so you don't push him when you realize he's pulling away, even if it hurts.
But one day, you summon up all your courage. Tech and you are working on damage to the outer hull of the Marauder. Until just now, he was telling you about his idea to improve the alloy for the metal of the outer hull and how he plans to make certain modifications to the ship in the future. Now, however, there is a brief pause, and you continue to work in silence. Your gaze wanders thoughtfully from his helmet, which is resting on a toolbox behind him, back to him Your heart is pounding in your throat, your hands are even shaking a little as you decide to finally tell him, to tell him how you feel about him. "Tech?" His name comes over your lips, almost like a whisper. He heard you, though. Normally he would answer you and listen without looking up from his work, but something about the way you say his name catches his attention this time. He pauses, turns his head in your direction and looks at you, his eyes widening a little. "What's wrong?"
His gaze, those beautiful eyes, like dark brown amber. Your knees go weak. You try to hold his gaze, but every now and then, you blink and look to the side before looking at him again as you speak. "There's something I need to tell you" His brows move up questioningly. "Is it something important?" You hesitate for a second before saying, "I guess it's a matter of opinion. It's very important to me" Surprised, you watch as Tech puts down his tools and turns to you. "Then let me hear it," he says promptly. Now you have his undivided attention. Your stomach is tingling, your heart is doing wild tricks in your chest. Your mouth goes dry, and you hastily reach for the water bottle to take a few sips. As you put the bottle down, your hand trembles so much that you can barely put the bottle down properly. Tech doesn't miss this, of course, his brows draw together in concern, but he waits silently for you to tell him. "I have feelings for you," you suddenly say so quickly, with a look on your face as if you were ripping off a band-aid. Then you smile nervously, inwardly cursing at yourself.
He stands there, motionless, and looks at you. Occasionally he blinks. You don't know what you were expecting, but some kind of reaction would have been nice. You nervously hold your breath.
"Romantic?" he finally asks after what feels like an eternity.
You finally dare to breathe again. He sounds thoughtful, confused, maybe even overwhelmed, but you can't quite put your finger on it right now, your own thoughts and your heartbeat are so incredibly loud.
"Yes, Tech. You know, accelerated pulse when you're near me, tingly feeling in my stomach, the need to be close to you, to want to please you. Bittersweet nervousness..."
For a moment, he looks at you as if you have a rare disease that might be contagious, and your stomach tightens at the sight. You regret saying a single word. "I'm not sure how to deal with this," he says thoughtfully, averting his eyes, "I can't... process" You can't help but stare at him helplessly. You feel the blood drain from your face, and your whole body suddenly seems to become much heavier. You swallow and say in a helpless attempt to pretend everything is okay, "It's okay, Tech, we don't have to talk about it" You turn back to your work, avert your gaze, and you miss Tech's confused, questioning look as he asks, "Don't we have to? You said it's important to you" "No," you say and put the tool to work, "We don't have to, everything can just stay the way it was before" He looks at you silently for a while longer, lost in his thoughts, before resuming his work. _______ Over the next few days, you hardly speak a word, in fact you avoid him. You feel like an idiot, hurt and exposed. The thought that Tech knows about your feelings makes you feel like you're walking around naked and every one of his questioning, scrutinizing glances weighs heavily on you.
One evening, as you sit alone in the cockpit, you hear someone walk toward you, and by now you can already tell that Tech is approaching by the sound of his footsteps. You shrink into the co-pilot's seat and focus obsessively on the datapad in your hands. As he says your name, your shoulders shrink down, you try to make yourself even smaller, you don't look up as you answer, "Yes?" His voice sounds soft, but still in his very own matter-of-fact way, as he says, "A few days ago, when you told me about your feelings, you said we didn't have to talk about it and everything could be the same. But it's not. You're avoiding me, avoiding eye contact. I realized that my first reaction made you feel insecure, probably even gave you the wrong impression. I've come to the conclusion that nothing is the same as before and that there is a real need to talk about it" You sigh softly and ask, "Is there something on your mind?" Instead of answering, Tech leans down towards you. Surprised and a little startled, your eyes do wander in his direction. He kisses your cheek gently and chastely, then sits down in the pilot's seat.
Your fingers automatically move to the spot where his lips touched your cheek, leaving a soft, tingling sensation. You feel warm, but at the same time you are confused and can't help but stare at him questioningly. "After some time to process what I've heard, said and felt, I've realized that these feelings are apparently mutual. I hope that's not a problem" You blink several times and straighten up a little in your seat. A soft smile at the corners of your mouth. "That's not a problem, Tech, not at all" He nods, smiling. "Good, so we can explore this new territory together, right?" You resist the urge to fall around his neck, you know that Tech processes things differently, especially in the interpersonal sphere, that he takes longer and values physical contact very differently. You nod, your smile a little wider. "I'd love to, Tech," you say softly. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest with joy as he reaches for your hand, tentatively at first, but eventually with gentle determination. With a cautious smile, he says, "I hope you'll be patient with me" You laugh softly, gently, and beam at him as you reply, "I have all the time in the world for you, Tech"
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Request for Jolly x Female Reader. Jolly develops a crush on a member of one of the support bands over the course of tour. Could be vocalist or instrumentalist. Or both. The band and Bad Omens eventually collab for a song on the Concrete Jungle OST and Jolly helps co-write a song with reader for her band’s new album. So they end up spending a lot of time together. Take it where ever you want to. Can’t wait to read!
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You were a solo artist opening up for Bad Omens for the fall tour.
When the tour first got announced, Jolly and Noah reached out to you about collaborating with Bad Omens on a future song. They loved the softness of your voice as you sang with passion.
You didn't have much experience with writing your own songs since you were just starting out so Jolly offered to help you with writing the collab song.
You met him at his and Noah's home studio, nervous as hell because with what they already told you they were looking for with the new song, you didn't know how'd they take to the lyrics you did right.
"I'm all for constructive criticism," you said while handing Jolly your notebook. "I'm still learning but this was what I thought would work best for the song."
Jolly and Noah read over it together, both of them sharing a look.
"It's good," Noah said first.
"But we can tweak some things if you're cool with it," Jolly smiled.
You returned it. "You two are some of the best. I couldn't have asked for better teachers.
For the next few weeks, you worked with Jolly mostly on tightening up your lyrics and when it came to recording your part, he made sure he was there outside the booth to watch you.
The two of you had become incredibly close over the few weeks, and it was clear how he felt about you but you were too nervous to reciprocate those feelings for fear of ruining this collaboration/future tour. If things didn't work out, it would make things incredibly awkward.
"Can we redo that verse?" You asked Jolly. "I feel like it could be better."
"Of course, Karaste," he smiled, saying his nickname for you.
It made your cheeks burn just as it did the first time he called you it. It was an accident, a slip of his Swedish tongue but you loved it so you told him it could stay.
It was a late night in the studio so Jolly offered to walk you to your car but neither of you was ready to end the night yet.
"It's sounding really good," he praised.
"Thank you," you blushed. "I know there's a lot of hype with this upcoming deluxe album so I want to make sure it's perfect."
Jolly ran a hand over his beard, thinking deeply about something.
"What are you doing Friday night?"
"Oh, do you want another recording session?" You questioned.
Now he rubbed the back of his neck. "I was thinking maybe dinner. Me and You."
"As a date?" You couldn't hide the smile and neither could Jolly.
"If you're worried about ruining the collab or tour if things go bad, don't. We both can be professionals."
You took a step closer to him. "I think we'll be fine if we take things slow."
Something sparkled in his dark eyes, his hands finding your hips. "We'll take things as slow as you want, karaste."
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ryuusei-niu · 1 day
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BoO spoilers ‼️
Excuse me, ladies, gentlemen and monarchs, I'm going to ramble (angst) about Leo
I can't stop thinking about the days before Leo did you know what in BoO. I JUST CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW HE COULD FEEL
Like, dude, he was about to go and maybe DIE. TO SAVE THE WHOLE FRICKIN WORLD.
Until then everything is fine (no, it is not). Because "between fire and storm, the world must fall." He was the fire. It was him or Jason and he didn't plan to die, he had a plan. Of course.
Only maybe that plan wouldn't work.
And I can't stop thinking about it. Like, c'mon! We all know Leo, we know that he is not a coward but he is not very attracted to the idea of ​​putting himself in danger. He is a person, he can't help but not want to die. On few occasions he wanted or avoided putting himself in danger, knowing that someone else was going to be in danger.
So why did he sacrifice himself for everyone? Why did he do it when there was a strong possibility of not coming back from the explosion?
I can't help but think that there was a part of him that didn't really care about not coming back.
Did he have future plans? Yes. Did he have people he cared about and wanted to be with? Double yes. He could have avoided the drama, fixed Festus correctly and with the help of the others, go and save Calypso and end of the history, everyone happy.
Then, why?
It's simple math. Cruel and horrible simple math.
He would always be the seventh wheel.
'But Ryuu, he had friends and his friends cared about him and-'
I don't care, Martha, just hear me out and shut up (with love).
He had no place as such among the seven. It was him. And the metallic dragon, let's not forget Festus. But it was him at the end of the day.
They needed someone who would sacrifice themselves for the group, with the risk of not returning.
I feel like Leo didn't even need to think about it.
Because the loneliness he felt in those few days was enough to make him realize it. The loneliness of his entire life was enough to realize it.
Although he was an important member, he ended up being left over. He was a piece that others could do without, find a replacement. Move on.
(And it makes me angry to know that it was part of Hera's plan, because if he hadn't been rejected his whole life he wouldn't have sacrificed himself.)
I feel that in part, it was easier for Leo to sacrifice himself, maybe come back, and be a hero, or maybe not come back, than stay there. Just like the clown he was. The seventh wheel.
Because maybe, if he didn't come back, they were finally going to miss him a little.
Maybe, if he didn't come back, they were going to feel more than just pity, or anger at him.
Maybe, if he died, he would have a little more presence than if he stayed.
He already saw it once. Two, to be specific. In both of them he came back and in both of them his friends forgot about him not long after.
That also helped him decide that he should be the one to sacrifice himself.
He couldn't leave Piper without Jason.
I feel like Leo thought maybe he was easier to forget. And at the same time he hated that.
At the same time he didn't want to die. But he didn't mind.
And I can't help but imagine what the last days, the last hours, must have been like for him, knowing that maybe he was going to die and none of his friends knew. He wasn't going to get to say goodbye properly. And he felt bad for wanting, deep down, to see them cry over the idea of ​​him not coming back. Because he wanted to feel important and worthy of being missed at least once.
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spielzeugkaiser · 1 year
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hi, first off i really love your art. the h/c and warmth really hit me where i live and your illustration style is fantastic. lately i've been obsessed with the post where an unwell milek thinks geralt will leave him behind. was that an ingrained insecurity, assuming his super-witcher dad wouldn't have time for a sickly human kid?
[MASTERPOST] - Ahh, thank you for the ask! Yes, this scene.. I actually saw this a bit differently! It's not about Milek fearing Geralt will leave him behind, he actually wants him to. They need to find his Pa!! I think he often feels like a burden; Jaskier knows this, but Geralt isn't aware of this yet. Milek just wants to pull his weight, especially with Jaskier. A little sneak peak to their struggles regarding this:
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Meanwhile Jaskier continues to struggle with his omega status.
#jaskier#the witcher#geraskier lovechild#julian alfred pankratz#omegaverse#there are various things happening here! a. Milek never really had to fear that Jaskier would leave him he knows he never ever would#b. Jaskier said again and again that he'll always care for him and loves him and that he doesn't have to pull any weight at all#c. Jaskier actually became the parent that just wants his kid to be educated and study and learn#(maybe because he knows Milek won't be able to do hard labour but also because he knows what Milek really wants to do)#(filed under: things I haven't drawn yet but they had their big fallout because of oxenfurt and university - things to come in the future)#d. Milek has watched Jaskier working his ass off in various jobs that he didn't like#(and he thinks that prostitution is the worst but only because they didn't properly talk about it before)#e. Jaskier is struggling with how he is percieved - which I think was never that much on his mind when he was travelling with Geralt#being a carefree bard and giving everyone the middlefinger who had some wrong ideas about what he could do and what not#but this is definitely an AU in which he doesn't have a good relationship with his father and he can still hear him say he'll become#'an unbonded omega with a bastard child working on the streets' and I think sometimes it gets to him#(because Jaskier is king of hating his parents ever being right about him)#that Jaskier kind of wants to spare Milek and quietly hopes we won't become an omega - even if he feels bad about it - shall become plot#(one dayyyy)#anyway that was a very long rant about Mileks complex relationship with him feeling like a burden
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girlscience · 8 months
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I finished Nona the Ninth and.... I was going to make a whole post outlining everything that confused and frustrated me about the book (because there is A Lot) but actually I think I can sum it up much faster. This is a story mostly focused on characters and people, and I often do not care about characters and people. I far prefer worldbuilding to nearly everything else and I think the worldbuilding is there, but it is not really being explained. There is a war happening, and I understand absolutely none of it. I don't understand the sides/factions, I don't understand the politicking happening, I don't understand the goals, I don't know who is leading what or why or where they are etc etc etc. And I don't know if that's a fault on my part as a reader or that it's simply not being explained well. In relation to that, everything is unreliable narrators. And I think I am coming to the conclusion I don't like that. It means I don't know what's actually happening ever and it is beginning to really frustrate me.
#tlt#I like the characters! I do! But I am really only attached to Gideon#I liked all the characters in Nona... but they arent very important to me#I like the making of Paul and thought that was very interesting and well written and moving#but that was pretty much the only character based piece of this story I really loved#Idk. I am going to finish the series.... but I don't understand anything#I think I will have to reread everything but even then idk if I'll pick up all the pieces#I also have opinions about the fact all of it feels like it's happening on post apocalyptic earth....#but it's supposed to be on alien planets and 10000 years in the future. I feel like it should feel far more alien#I did like getting John's backstory and explaination. but I also think he may be an unreliable narrator so I don't trust what he said#and I don't get why everything that happened in his story happened... and like I guess that piece doesn't matter so much cause 10000 years#but it bothers me#AND AGAIN MY GIRL GIDEON WAS BARELY IN THE BOOK#idk. I just want to know who is fighting. why are the fighting. what do they all want. WHERE are they fighting. how are they fighting.#what all science is there. what space travel is there. how does the space travel work.#better explainations of the magic. and the river. what was the tower in the river. (i think some of that will be addressed later)#(or at least i fucking hope so)#idk. I feel like some of this is explained and I just missed it... but I think some of it is absolutely glossed over#and I don't hate open ended worldbuilding entirely but I want better scaffolding#I DONT KNOW. I feel like I'm being mean and so I feel bad#like it's a good book and so many people like them#and I liked them at the beginning!!! but now I'm just confused and frustrated#and I don't know if it's my fault and I'm just too stupid to pick on things and context and hints and stuff#or if it actually was all that poorly explained
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mangoisms · 9 months
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weird question. but in ur opinion, what major would tim do at college? I was thinking comp sci but making him a business major would be so funny
good question! to be honest.. i want to say it’s difficult to pin down any one major he’d choose, especially because i feel like he’s not exactly academically inclined, at least if he’s doing vigilante stuff? school was always a big issue for him hence him dropping out to focus on The Mission and that seems like All He Is Doing right now thank you dc editorial. but if he isn’t… comp sci is a good choice but for me, i lean towards maybe something like mechanical engineering? or electrical engineering? kinda feel like he has comp sci in the bag already from having to learn it/having learned it in his time as a vigilante (largely due to babs im sure!)
but mechanical or electrical engineering just because of how much stuff he created for his suit when he was robin and how he was always reconfiguring redbird and messing with all of it. although where those skills and that degree could be applied is Another Question Entirely. my best guess is — and this is probably super basic — with WE? or maybe if we want to have a little fun. somewhere like kord industries. or even STAR labs. or maybe a teaching position? could see him being down for that as he gets older
a little more indulgent would be photography but even if not a major i would like to think he at least minors in it or something!
business major would be SO funny because he would be miserable the entire time. i think.
but yeah! he’s just. idk. probably hates prerequisites. probably wants to take ten classes at once. he’d really need to slow down i think which is the goal. ultimately. for me. in any case This got very long my bad <3 i’m just. fascinated by him and his mysterious future
#this is not at all a weird question anon this is a question i’ve thought about At Length#because it’s not at all clear cut on what he would study in college or what he would do as a job#working with WE is a cop out and it’s very intentional because i think he knows that too#and it’s easy. right. so it’s not bad necessarily but it’s like. Expected. and i don’t feel like it’s something he would want to do#For The Rest Of His Life. you know?#wait i hope that doesn’t come off negatively. me saying it’s a cop out. i think it’s like. subtext. known. it’s like yeah he’s working there#and he uses it to his advantage to avoid questions about the future ESPECIALLT if he’s still doing the vigilante thing#and like with the others it’s fairly easy. jason the obvious choice fandom likes is english teacher#Me personally i like him as a nurse/EMT#dick? he’s not a cop idc what dc says HE IS NOT A COP. that man is a gymnastics instructor#or maybe. social worker. had that thought at one point#damian? feel like the obvious choice is something with WE but i do like the thought of him as a vet can’t lie#cass… she does not dream of labor. i do not dream of her dreaming of labor. bruce probably doesn’t either hes totally fine with her just#living her life. doing some ballet on the side. you know. just having fun#you know??#for steph. social worker. i think.#for duke…. oh god. i don’t know. i have Thoughrs. but i’m not sure if they’re correct#first one is counselor. but then i jump to he might be the guy to major in mathematics. OR! comp sci? maybe? i think that could be up his#alley? idk. open to suggestions#open to suggestions for all of these <3 if anyone disagrees. also god sorry these tags are so long#inbox#anonymous
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strayslost · 7 months
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YOUR BSD NEW EP SPOILERS WARNING GOES HERE!!
you fools. fyodor couldn't die that easily. he's still fine you just gotta BELIEVE-
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kathaynesart · 12 days
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The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.
BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST
Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!
One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!
We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.
With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.
The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.
Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.
Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!
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inkskinned · 1 month
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before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
#warm up#writeblr#this is also about being ace btw#my identity has slowly shifted over time and maybe if everyone is REAL cool i'll talk bout it#bc it's complicated and nuanced. but this is like#trying to warn u that if you find it “relationship upkeep” to have sex with ur partner#and don't actually enjoy it or seek it for urself. u might just not be attracted to them.#which is fine ! ace ppl can be perfectly happy in any relationship they feel good in!#but also i wasn't as straight as i had expected!#> the first time i saw dick i was like. huh. oh okay that's fine i guess#> the first time i saw pussy i was like. WAIT ACTUALLY HANG ON I GET IT#i just assumed sex wasn't all it was cracked up to be ya know#but also like. btw? this IS NOT saying ''u might be gay not ace''#bc tbh i'm grey ace/demisexual#it's saying u might not be into ur partner. explore urself & ur feelings. turn inward.#TAKE THIS IN THE MANNER IT WAS MEANT> GENTLE AND KIND#AND NOT IN A WEIRD INTERNET WAY PLEASE#bc the truth is that there ARE ppl who are gay who assume that they just ''don't like'' sex#and ace ppl who might need a different partner w/different needs#and i would have REALLY needed to hear ''check in w/urself about if u actually like sex''#WAY EARILIER in my life. but nobody said anything bc they assume if ur having sex. u like it.#not just the actual act of sex. not once ur turned on. do you ACTUALLY like it. or is it a burden?#even if ur gay. check w/urself. maybe ur more ace than u realized. in which case. ADDITIONAL FLAG BB#i love collecting my flags. i'm at like 354 at this point#but also btw this is about how toxic relationships are SO normalized that u can be in one#and have everyone around u being like ''THATS JUST MEN LOL''
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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Careful - Chapter One
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter One: Over Yet
We can go farther, beyond the end.
Summary:
You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.
That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.
Word Count: 5,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
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Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?
A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.
...
The team had been in Portland for three days.
No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 
A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 
“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 
He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 
Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 
Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 
Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 
They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 
“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 
She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 
“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 
“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 
“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 
“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 
Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 
“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 
“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 
“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 
“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 
“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 
“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 
He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 
“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 
“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 
“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 
“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 
“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 
Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 
“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 
Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 
“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 
She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 
“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 
“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 
“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 
“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 
This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 
“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 
“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 
“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 
“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 
“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 
Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 
“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 
Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 
“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 
A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 
“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 
“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 
“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 
“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 
“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 
“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 
“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 
“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”
“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 
“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 
“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 
“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 
… 
The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 
After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 
So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 
“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 
“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 
Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 
You had a son. 
A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 
And his birth date was… fuck. 
He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 
One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 
Four years, eight months, and two days. 
It wasn’t difficult math. 
Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 
His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  
Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 
Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 
He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 
What the fuck was going on? 
There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 
Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 
“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 
Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 
“Did you find something?” 
… 
All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 
So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 
It could definitely work. 
When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 
So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 
“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 
“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 
He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 
“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 
JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 
Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 
Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 
The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 
But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 
Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 
It had been four years. 
JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 
“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 
“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 
“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 
“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 
It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 
“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 
“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 
“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 
“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 
“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 
It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 
“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 
There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 
She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 
So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 
“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 
Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 
“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 
That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 
“One thing at a time, alright?” 
When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 
It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 
Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 
He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 
And now the two of you likely had a child together. 
Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 
“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 
She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 
He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 
He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 
Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 
At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 
You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 
Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 
But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 
He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 
“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 
You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.
So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 
You were breath-taking. 
“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 
You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 
Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 
The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 
… 
He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 
It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 
It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 
Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 
It was a perfect night. 
Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 
His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 
And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 
“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 
You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 
“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 
Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 
“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 
“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 
Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 
“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 
“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 
Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 
“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 
Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 
“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 
“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 
You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 
“Interesting.” You replied. 
“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 
Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 
“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 
Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 
“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 
“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 
“And see-” 
Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 
He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 
It was perfect. You were perfect. 
You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 
But Spencer was nothing like that. 
He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 
When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 
“That was… wow.” He sighed. 
“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 
“Well, I - you - wow.” 
It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 
Back then - everything had been perfect. 
He had no clue where it all went so wrong.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar
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hellishjoel · 3 months
Text
cherry thrill | lights
9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader
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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!)
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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. 
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next chapter ->
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rreids · 12 days
Text
PRACTICE RUN • S. REID X READER
fluff, based on a scene at the end of 1 x 04 , going on a platonic date with spencer (for him to know what it's like) that becomes very real, kissing, silly little facts (again, very loosely verified, read everything i say ever with a grain of salt), ~1.3k
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“Spence?” You ask, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:30, everyone had left the BAU around 8 after finishing up paperwork on the latest case. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, exactly,” Spencer mumbles. “You know how I went to that baseball game with JJ? Last week?”
”Yeah. You have fun?”
”Yeah. I mean, I guess.” He sighs. “I think Gideon meant for me to ask her out like a date,”
”Did you want it to be a date?” You sit up slowly, tugging your blanket over your knees and putting your phone on speaker so you can rest your cheek on your propped legs.
”No.” He pauses. “But I want to know how to ask someone out. In case I ever want to in the future.”
”Well,” you stretch and yawn a little. “Do you want me to explain it?”
”Would you?” You can perfectly imagine the way his face lights up from the way his voice pitches up alone.
”Of course, Spence,” you smile. “The best thing to do is make your intentions clear. Either have established that you like them, or make it clear when you ask. Try to ask them to do something, just the two of you, that is a shared interest between you two.”
He hums.
”For example, you like film viewings and stuff, right?” He mumbles a soft agreement. “So, it could be something like ‘Hey, I got tickets for this movie on — and then whatever day —, I was thinking the two of us could go. I’d like to see it with you.’”
”That easy?”
”That easy. Sometimes I like to say ‘it’s a date,’ when they agree, just to make sure they’re clear on my intentions. Never a bad idea to be explicit in your communication.”
”You go on a lot?” He asks curiously. “Of dates, I mean. You said that’s something you like to say,”
”Not recently, but in college,” you smile softly. “Not everyone was 16 when they were in higher education,”
Spencer chuckles. “You’re right. Are they any… fun?”
”You don’t know?”
”No one ever asked me out. Or maybe they did. I’m not good at that type of stuff. What do people even do on dates?”
”Talk,” you chuckle. “Enjoy one another’s company. Really, it’s just any old hangout with different emotions.”
Spencer sighs, voice petulant when he speaks again. “Emotions are confusing,”
”I have an idea,”
“What is it?”
”How about I take you on a practice run date? So you know what it’s like.”
”Isn’t that weird?”
”If you make it weird,” you tease. “It’s up to you. We’ll treat it like a date but go as friends, just so you can get used to that type of environment and its expectations,”
Spencer clicks his tongue, and you picture him pursing his lips in contemplation. “You promise I won’t feel weird?”
”I can’t control your emotions, Spence, but I promise to treat you like normal.”
He’s silent for a bit. “Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. “I’ll plan everything. Just tell me if you change your mind,”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
When you and Spencer finally have time, it’s when you’re off work for a day after a rough week in Montana. He’s dressed pretty normally, but he took more time than normal to try to tame his hair, and he’s fidgeting with the cuffed sleeves of his undershirt as you walk up.
“Spencer,” you call and he looks up, smiling nervously. “You ready?”
“What exactly should I be ready for?”
“I decided we should go to an aquarium. That okay?”
“We have a shared interest in fish?” He asks, incredulous, recalling you saying a date had to be something both parties liked. “It’s fish.”
“The information,” you poke his side. “You like learning. It’s cool, I promise. And you can even point at the ugly fish and say they look like me.”
Spencer tilts his head. “Why would I do that? You’re not ugly.”
You smile, unsure of how to respond. “Come on.”
He listens, and it’s a little awkward, him silent and studying you. There’s so much tension that you’re unexpectedly and uncharacteristically a little quiet, looking at the way the cyan lights in the tanks flicker and reflect in his eyes, making them into inky pools of brown, black, and bluesin the low lighting.
You realize he looks pretty… cute.
“Spencer,” you whisper, snapping him from his laser focus on a sign about knobbed whelks. “You’re meant to talk to me.”
“Sorry,” he whispers back. “I just—”
“Think they’re cool?” You ask lightly.
“Yeah.”
“You want to go see the otters?” You question, grabbing his hand in yours. “They hold hands like this when they’re asleep, so they don’t drift apart and lose each other.”
He stares down at your hand, mouth dropped a little as you dragged him. “Is that why you’re holding mine? So I don’t get lost or separated from you.”
“Yeah.” You grin at him and he smiles back, letting you pull him along.
The otters are cute, and he’s fascinated by them. “I never knew they were so vicious…” he trails off as he reads the sign, looking at one with big round eyes that stares at him through the glass.
“Maybe we can profile our next unsub as an otter.”
Spencer snorts. “Yeah, whenever we get a killer who throws their victims on rocks repeatedly. That’d be a signature.”
You smile and look at his profile in the glowing light.
“What?” He asks, shying from the intensity of your gaze.
“People normally look at the person they’re on a date — fake… date — with.” 
“Do they always look this intently at them?”
“Sometimes,” you fix his collar where it’s flopped over a little. “When they want to kiss them,”
You trail your fingers from his collar over his neck briefly before dropping your hand, and you feel his pulse racing.
“Do you kiss people on fake dates? Or practice dates?”
“Most people don’t go on those, Spence. But normally, you ask if you can kiss the person — through body language or verbally, and kiss them.”
Spencer falls quiet, following you towards the sharks slowly before catching your wrist in a dim part of the corridor, and you can barely make out the way his tongue darts over his lower lip.
“How does that body language look? So I can identify it,”
Your heart races, and you step closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Your eyes partially close just from the anticipation. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, meet his gaze before lowering it to his lips and dragging it back on, curling your fingers on his collar. “Like this.”
Spencer swallows, and moves his hands shakily to your waist.
He waits for you to look at him, and then copies you, eyes falling to your mouth before sliding back up your face.
You kiss him and he startles a little, stiffening under you before sighing and awkwardly trying to match you.
His eyes shut instinctively and remain like that even as you pull back, cheeks so red you can see it despite the lack of light.
“I don’t know… how… to kiss.” Spencer mumbles. “I’ve read a lot, but you’d be surprised how little there is other than facts that roughly 60% of couples tilt their heads to the right to kiss, and that many recipients of kisses will tilt to the right if the person kissing them is doing—”
You kiss him again.
“Later, Spencer. We’re on a date.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “A real one?”
“Unless you kiss everyone you hang out with, yeah,”
“No, no, I don’t.” He clears his throat. “But did you know it’s—”
“Safer than shaking hands when it comes to the amount of pathogens transferred. I know.” You hold his hand firmly in yours. “Now we’re doing both.”
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not proofread, like always. i'm trying to improve my characterization still so please forgive that it's still clumsy. i am also a stickler for cute awkward spence so. expect that too
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
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dughole · 2 months
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radiohead’s complicity in israeli-occupied palestine
my feelings on radiohead are complicated these days, as i’m sure they are for many. i'm using this post as a method of sorting out my own thoughts & to provide sources.
for me, the bottom line is this: radiohead is both a brand & a musical group. the brand of radiohead has always had deep roots in the israeli colonial project - they have played many, many shows there throughout their career. their breakout single - creep, was intially only a hit in israel (x, x) & the personal choices of some of radiohead's members remain just as involved. jonny greenwood met his future wife - the israeli artist, antivaxxer & vehement zionist (x) sharona katan - at a show radiohead played in israel in 1993 (x). jonny consistently collaborated with zionist musician shye ben tzur & his projects continue to tour in tel aviv as recently as last september. as for jonny himself - his only statement in regards to the war on gaza has been in mourning for the israeli concert goers on october 10th - w no such empathy spared to the 100,000 palestinians dead, injured, or missing. as for thom, while he’s thrown a few bitchfits (x) through the years abt criticism of radiohead’s shows in israel, he has imo - only paid lipservice to the criticism, saying “playing in a country isn’t the same as endorsing its government” going against the pleas of his peers & coworkers in the music industry. as well as the pro-palestine activism undertaken by his long term friend micheal stipe (x & x). (note: stipe stood by radiohead’s performance in israel in 2017, but his current political choices suggest his understanding of the situation has evolved). even his own son - noah yorke, a fellow working musician, has voiced his opposition to the genocide in gaza via instagram stories. as for the other members, rhythm guitarist ed o'brien has called for a ceasefire, as well as making a few tweets about "solidarity with palestinians & israeli peacemakers". while bassist colin greenwood reportedly refused to accept letters of dialogue from the fan-run organization radiohead fans for palestine. drummer phillip selway's commentary is similarly brief but defensive, saying radiohead's 2017 tel aviv concert "felt right"
to me, this paints a picture of a band who's members stances on israel range from abhorrent to simply not enough. & as a brand, their particular combination of action & inaction amounts to a fundamentally zionist perspective. you cannot separate radiohead as artists from radiohead as a brand name.
i've loved radiohead since i was 14. i was brought into it by another longtime fan. i cried & danced when i saw them live back in 2017 - it was, & remains, a moment that allowed me to live through the hardest parts of my life. i felt for the longest time, that radiohead's music & political positions encouraged my empathy - my questioning of conservative political authority. & while all celebrities are failures in some sense - it is still heartbreaking to know how wrong i was.
i don't think it's possible to disconnect the decade of connection & love i have for their music - I won't ask that of myself or anyone else. & the idea of scrubbing one's taste of the "morally impure" is useless effort & an inappropriate simplification of both art & our conceptions of what makes someone "bad". but i can say with certainty - i will not be giving them any more of my money, whether that be streaming their music or buying their merch - & i encourage you to do the same. silence is complicity - this is beyond silence.
in the words of nina simone - "an artist's duty, as far as i'm concerned, is to reflect the times. how can you be an artist and not reflect the times? that to me is the definition of an artist."
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