#I'm looking forward to the next issue :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brazilian-vampyra · 2 months

Text

♱ NEEDING SOME LOVE? ｡ﾟ ♡

(english)

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ synopsis: you are a succubus and offers affection after jjk men pass or are in stressful situations.

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ characters: ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, nanami kento.

⋆ ִֶָ ๋ ✮⋆ warnings: strong language, rough sex, unprotected sex, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, oral (both receiving), fem!dom, male!dom, creampie, nipple play, teasing, love bites, needy behavior.

⭑ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄 was tired. He was hella tired.

Some time ago, Kento decided to give up his life as an office worker and put into practice everything he had learned at Jujutsu High. Enduring Gojo Satoru shouting in his ear like he did in high school was the worst of the problems, the big "x" of the issue now was dealing with the curses that arrived in the city.

Sukuna's return seemed to have brought a streak of bad luck to everyone else, and it stressed him, God, how it stressed him.

He had fought against a curse called "Mahito". He was all patched up, had blue hair, was tough and very ironic, the kind that brags about their deplorable exploits. His stupid actions meant that Nanami had to spend more time at work, as he was going to finish his shift at 6 p.m., but Mahito was persistent and stupid, forcing him to work overtime.

He left office life so he could stop working like a convict, and now he was forced to work overtime because of this stupid curse?

It's incredibly disrespectful.

He arrived at the apartment tired, just thinking about taking a relaxing shower and sleeping. Maybe this vacation to Malaysia should be brought forward.

He unlocked the main door and when he entered, he turned on the orange lamp next to it, casting dim light across the room. He was already loosening his tie and muttering some swear words when he came across a peculiar figure on the sofa. You were lying on your side, resting your face in your hand, looking at him with a mischievous smile and slightly shaking your tail.

The tail, as well as the horns and wings were part of your real form, but you made them disappear to be more comfortable sometimes.

━━ What are you doing in my house? — the blonde questioned, without paying much attention to you.

━━ You know how it is, no big deal... — you slid onto the couch. ━━ Just checking if my favorite blonde is okay...

━━ I am very well.

You giggled indiscreetly.

━━ You seem stressed to me...

━━ I can ease my stress on my own, I don't need another curse bothering me today.

You got up from the couch, walking over to him with a hand on your chest, pretending to be offended.

━━ Aww, too bad. I'm not a curse, you know this... — you said, making your most fantasy features disappear, looking like a normal human. ━━ Are you going to treat me like that night was nothing?

He grunted, taking off his tie to make himself more comfortable.

━━ It was a dream. A fucking dream.

━━ It wasn't a dream... — you teased. ━━ But I agree with you on the fucking part. Wow, we fucked so much!

You kept remembering about it, with a mischievous smile on your lips.

━━ What did you come for, you devil? Feed? If so, I'm tired, I don't have any energy to give you.

Well, that's the truth. Succubus feeds on a person's vital energy through sex.

━━ Do I look evil, Kento? I'm here to take care of you. You let me feed myself, I think it's fair that I take care of you.

You took a hand to the blonde's defined jaw and slid your fingers over his skin, watching as he shivered.

━━ You'll see... I can wash your hair... — you took one of his hands and brought it to your face, so he could feel your warm cheek. ━━ Kiss your pretty lips and we can explore each other's bodies, so you will sleep very happy afterwards. Don't you think you need some love?

His mischievous smile was a beautiful invitation. And the blonde gave in to the temptation and desire you emanated. You calmly convinced him, and now you were in the bathroom, in the shower, moaning and feeling the warm water slide over your skin. Nanami's strong body hugged yours from behind, while his hands were covered in liquid soap with passion fruit and chamomile essences.

His huge hands slid over your wet skin and went to your breasts, playing with your nipples between his index and middle fingers; giving you an awesome stimulation.

You could feel his hips grinding against your ass and his cock slides through your tight insides, giving you as much pleasure as you were giving him. The blonde's deep moans were close to your ear, making you bite your lower lip. Your hands were on the blue tiled wall, providing you with some support as he delighted in your body.

━━ I told you... you would be happier- ugh, fuck...

━━ I think you're right, I can't resist that fucking pussy... — he kissed your shoulder. ━━ Goddamn, if these curses keep stressing me out I'm going to need you every week...

━━ I'll always be here for you, darling... — you smiled, biting your bottom lip and brought a hand up to his wet blonde hair, while his lips were on your shoulder, tasting your wet skin. ━━ Every time you need... to give you the sweetest dreams ever.

[...]

⭑ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ⭑

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 can be irritated and stressed, like ordinary people. With Sukuna's return, there were other curses with Kenjaku causing problems, such as a stranger called Jogo. They didn't seem like a big problem, nothing he couldn't handle, but it was certainly something that would irritate him and require more strength and patience.

He had to balance this with his teaching duties and training the host of the king of curses, Yuji Itadori.

Sometimes Satoru fantasizes about what his life would be like without the responsibility of being a special grade sorcerer. Maybe he could be like most who don't have to worry about literally being humanity's last hope if the curses ever want to claim dominance again.

He had lost his best friend a few years ago, and it still hurt him. He had to take care of Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, as well as put up with hearing shit from other elitist sorcerers.

All of this made Satoru frustrated.

This caused erotic dreams to happen with a certain frequency, and the figure that satisfied him was you, a succubus. You're wrong if you think that your relationship with the most powerful sorcerer was just sex, nothing like that, you also talked a few times, flirted and even saw each other in real life.

At that point, you could already consider each other very close.

Now he had arrived home and removed the bandage that covered his vibrant blue eyes.

━━ I know you are here, sweetie.

He hadn't turned on any lights yet, but then you emerged from the shadows when he turned on the yellow lights in the living room. The lights were in a weaker tone, precisely so that he could be more relaxed and rest, providing a cozy atmosphere.

You were wearing a button-down shirt he had. A long-sleeved white shirt that had a few buttons lazily closed. Your thighs were bare, your smooth skin perfectly visible and your seductive scent carried far and wide. Your horns were not visible, nor were your wings or tail.

He went feral just by seeing this.

━━ I can see in those pretty eyes how tired you are... — you walked closer to him, hugging his neck affectionately. ━━ Wanna tell me what happened?

A muffled laugh echoed between you, a laugh coming from him before he slid his tongue across his lower lip gently.

━━ It's amazing how you always come up with the right words, and that lovely voice... — he wrapped his arms around your waist. ━━ It doesn't even feel like you're here with the purpose of sucking me dry.

You laughed at the audacity of the perfect white-haired sorcerer's words.

━━ Do you think I'm a mercenary who only cares about your life energy, Satoru? What we have is special... — you looked at him with your best puppy eyes.

He smiled happily upon hearing this.

━━ Don't you think you're needing some love, handsome?

You looked at him with your pink eyes, like a shining gemstone. Glowing with lust.

Gojo's response was his lips immediately being pressed against yours. His warm tongue slid against yours, allowing you to taste the mint gum he had been chewing all day. His hands held and squeezed your waist, making you moan against his lips, and he bit your lower lip lightly.

When you realized, you were on his bed. Your clothes were making a trail that led from the living room to the bedroom, and your bodies were sweaty on the sheets. You were on your side, with your head on the pillow, feeling one of Satoru's hands squeezing your breasts while the other held your thigh, slightly raised so that he could thrust his hips with precision against you.

The blue-eyed man bit your neck a little between kisses, probably leaving your skin marked, but he liked it. He liked to have the feeling that you were his.

━━ This pussy calms me down in a way... — he moaned, never stopping moving his hips against you, making the sound of your bodies echo throughout the room. ━━ It's like it was made for me...

━━ Take it easy, love... — you gripped the sheets tightly, feeling his body against yours as your vision was clouded with pleasure. ━━ Or you'll get addicted...

━━ Fucking hell, I already am... — hearing him go crazy was priceless. ━━ I need that damn pussy sliding on my cock every night...

[...]

⭑ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 ⭑

𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 that even though it was half a curse, the human feelings of this man who was almost two hundred years old were the strongest. He — who had exhausted eyes — was lost among difficult and confused thoughts.

His current mental state lived up to his appearance. He was as worn out as his eyelids and his dark circles. The physical and mental exhaustion of the blood handler was increasingly evident, he no longer knew what to do. He had constant and massive existential crises, which made his head scream.

Being by Kenjaku's side felt right, but something in him told him that wasn't the only option he had. Halloween was coming, the coup in Shibuya was going to happen and Choso only thought about running out of there and never coming back, evaporating like water in a hot pot of rice. But on the other hand, he must avenge the death of his brothers.

Why did life have to be so difficult?

He entered the room, throwing himself on the bed and burying his face in a pillow as he sighed heavily and tried to clear his thoughts. That was when a shiver ran down his spine and he looked at an armchair next to him.

There you were, with your horns and wings and your tail, slowly swaying back and forth like a cat.

━━ Hi, baby.

You smiled and waved calmly at him.

━━ W-Who are you? What are you doing here?

━━ Oh, don't you know who I am? — You were surprised. ━━ Well, let me put on a friendlier appearance to talk to you then.

In the blink of an eye your mystical features disappeared.

━━ Better, right?

You fixed your hair softly.

━━ I'm a succubus, by the look on your face I can assume you've never met one, right?

He nodded shyly.

━━ Well, Choso... I noticed you're so stressed. So tired, so depressed... — you walked over to the bed, running your hands through his silky hair. ━━ That brought me here.

━━ Can I assume you want to kill me...?

You laughed at the man's naivety.

━━ Kill you? No, no. Why would I kill such an adorable guy like you? — he was so adorable and cute. ━━ All I need is a little bit of your life energy, and don't worry, you'll recover in time.

━━ And how do I give it to you?

━━ You'll have to cum for me.

His pale cheeks turned red like ripe strawberries.

━━ W-What!?

━━ Feeding me during sex is the best option, and the best thing is that it doesn't hurt you either... — your hot pink eyes glowed at him, in a tone of eloquent desire. ━━ Don't you think you need some love, baby?

Yes, Choso had to assume that this was the best option for him at the moment. He might have to give you some of his life energy, but at the same time he would be rewarded for it. He was a bit inexperienced, and he didn't hide it — maybe he couldn't even try to hide it.

While you were kissing, he ended up asking to taste your pussy. That was the most promiscuous and shy request a man had ever made to you, two extremes at once. He accepted, and now he was eating you out with a desire that not even an extremely experienced man had ever eaten. His eyes were closed, his hands were squeezing your thighs and his face was buried between your legs.

The desire left him intoxicated, too focused on making you feel good.

Your legs were draped over his shoulders and you held onto his beautiful dark hair, squeezing it every now and then just out of sheer will, as you let him dictate at his own pace. Kamo's tongue slid inside you and his lips worked together to make you moan more and more.

At that point he couldn't take it anymore. The noticeable erection inside his pants was making that piece of clothing tighter and tighter, and if you kept moaning like that while he tasted you, he would probably end up cumming in his boxers. It had been a long time since he had tasted pussy this sweet, and now he felt like he was being bewitched or something.

━━ Hmm... you're so sweet, hm... — he kept eating.

━━ Such a good boy, you're doing well... — looked down, seeing his lips on your soaked sex. ━━ Don't be shy, rub your face on it...

Without even blinking, he held your thighs tighter and rubbed his face against your pussy, making you moan loudly and grip his hair tighter. That was unexpected, as you didn't expect to be dealing with a man who would obey so much.

Choso Kamo is indeed a good boy.

[...]

⭑ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 was far from being a bed of roses. Unlike what is shown in movies or comics, it is a sad, strange life with a growing sense of death because at any moment there could be a sniper waiting for you. Or another hitman who was hired to kill you as personal revenge for some of your work.

It was no different for Toji, who had to kill people almost every day.

The smell of iron coming from the blood was no longer something he found strange, as it was like smelling the good smell of a disinfectant or a perfume that was pleasant. Most of his clothes were black, just so he wouldn't worry about blood stains, his house didn't have light-colored carpets, precisely so that he wouldn't have to do such intense cleaning if blood leaked through a trash bag.

He lived in an extremely simple apartment, in a suburban neighborhood where the rent was very cheap.

Perhaps if his gambling addiction hadn't consumed him, he might have been in a better situation, as he was paid very well for his services. It was no surprise, after all Toji is a professional at what he does.

Today he was hired to kill an extremely important man, and he was protected by some very experienced and strong sorcerers, that was a lot of work and Toji got hurt a little. Now he had taken a cold shower and put on black sweatpants, lying down on the double bed in that small room, lit by the orange light from the streetlight that invaded through the window.

You teleported to his bed, laying down next to him.

Upon smelling her sweet scent entering his nostrils, Fushiguro wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

━━ I was already thinking about summoning you, my little devil...

His deep voice shook your bones, reverberating on it.

━━ Missing me, my love? — you teased.

━━ Always, honey.

━━ Had a bad day?

━━ Bad as fuck, but now I have you here.

━━ I think you're needing some love, don't you agree? — you turned to him, smiling mischievously and running a hand over the scar he had on his lip.

━━ I need all the love in the world right now.

And so you started kissing. It was an intense kiss, with a lot of desire and lust as your tongues touched and he grunted against your mouth. His kiss always seemed to take the air out of you, leaving you shocked at how good he felt.

Toji Fushiguro is ridiculously good in bed.

Right now, he was reminding you why he's the best you've ever had. This man was fucking you in a deliciously sinful mating press, holding your thighs as his green eyes were locked on yours and he was thrusting his hips against you like there's no tomorrow.

Fucking looking into the eyes was something so intimate and serious that you had never done with anyone; Toji could consider himself a big important milestone in your centuries-old succubus life.

━━ So fuckin' good f'me... — he was going crazy, just like you.

It felt strangely good, feeling him thrusting while you were stuffed. This man had already come and was still hard and needy for more, so much so that some of his hot cum was dripping down your poor little hole.

━━ You're such a whore, aren't you? This pussy is dripping and you still want more...

You smiled mischievously, biting your bottom lip and looking at him.

━━ What can I do? You're irresistible...

[...]

⭑ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 was not satisfied with his concubines.

Yes, you did not read it wrong. No, that wasn't a doubt, it was an affirmation.

You, like a good succubus, had been watching him from the shadows for a while, because after all, his life seemed to be extremely interesting. Realized from the beginning that he had four concubines, all of them beautiful, with the most different bodies, different shapes. Always dressed in flashy lingerie and wearing jewelry.

But somehow, he no longer looked at them with that hunger and desire he had at first. You wonder why?

The truth is that there was no answer to this notorious question. He had probably just lost interest in them or sex in general for a while because of the problems that were plaguing him. After all, he is the king.

With this in mind, you decided to pay a visit to the lonely king.

You entered his throne room, wearing beautiful red lingerie, adorned with some rubies, which framed your curves very well. Your soft skin was completely exposed and you made a point of letting your perfume emanate far away, as well as your pheromones.

━━ Sukuna... long time no see.

You teased him, laughing softly. You never had to bow to him, he "forgave" your audacity.

━━ Little brat... can I know why are you bothering me?

━━ I came to offer you help.

━━ Help?

━━ I noticed you don't care about your concubines anymore... from afar I feel your dissatisfaction.

He laughed mischievously, in his classic way.

━━ And what did you come here for? Apply to replace one of them?

━━ Sukuna, speaking like that, it seems like you don't know me — you made a subtle gesture with your hand. ━━ I just came here to propose a deal.

━━ What type of deal?

━━ You give me some of your vital energy and I give you pleasure...

He would have said "yes" right away the way he was, but playing hard to get was part of his personality.

━━ What makes you think I would accept this deal?

You smiled mischievously and began to crawl towards him, slowly climbing the steps that led to his throne at the top. Like a cat, it crawls slowly until it reaches the ball of yarn.

━━ Oh, my king... — you knew how to play dirty. ━━ I was watching you the whole time, I can see how frustrated you are.

You rested your head on his thigh, covered by the white kimono.

━━ You're needing some love, my dear...

And he agreed to this deal the right way. You knew you would have to put up with all the brutality of the king of curses, and you were willing to do that, especially because he didn't go beyond the limits, but he really was remarkable.

The white kimono he was wearing was already open, exposing his beautiful body with the marks that were his striking feature. You were kneeling right in front of him, while he held your hair and moaned, with his eyes closed and tilting his head back. Your mouth slid over his huge cock, feeling how his precum slid over your tongue every time you played with his sensitive, pink tip.

Sukuna's moans were as profane as his dark, morbid nature.

But they were truly a pleasure to listen to, and they were so good that it was making your thin panties weat with your desire, which ran down your slits as you used your mouth on him.

━━ F-Fuck... what a good fucking slut you are... — he pulled your hair.

You gagged on his cock a few times. Which was completely acceptable since he was indeed huge.

You were still going to have a lot of fun in that room, you couldn't even imagine that you could fuck in as many positions as he was going to fuck you on that throne.

[...]

⭑ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 was on the verge of going crazy.

Summer was a difficult season, as curses were everywhere and spread like plagues. In fact, the heat was so intense that it could kill the curses on its own, but he, as a sorcerer, had the obligation to act against them.

All that stress was already becoming unbearable, Suguru was already one step away from freaking out and killing everything and everyone in sight — whether it was a curse or not. He no longer cared about anything, and only thought about how complicated his life was and that maybe he wished he could have been born without this gift, so that he could do what "normal people" do.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for the man with long dark hair, you already had an eye on everything. I analyzed him from afar at various times, and thought about when would be the right time to approach him. You heard that he had been having these outbursts since Jujutsu High, now he was an adult and was still trying to control himself for not causing a giant disgrace.

Now he was on the balcony of his bedroom, it was a moonlit, starry and hot night.

His hair was tied up at the top and loose at the bottom, so he felt a little fresher. He was only wearing gray boxers and had picked up a cigarette, when he was about to light it, he noticed that he had lost the lighter.

━━ I always leave it here on the balcony table...

He muttered to himself.

━━ Looking for this?

He heard an unfamiliar female voice behind him and immediately looked to see what it was about. It was you, you were there looking at him like a predator looks at its prey, with your hot pink eyes.

━━ Don't get closer, or I-...

━━ What? Are you gonna eat me? — you teased, while holding his lighter. ━━ I mean, depending on how it goes, I accept it...

━━ Who are you?

You took the cigarette from his hand, politely asking "excuse me", and brought it to your lips, lighting it with the lighter and inhaling the smoke before bringing it to his lips. Suguru should assume that was a very sensual thing to watch, more so than he would like to admit.

You introduced yourself, saying your name to him and offering a gentle smile.

━━ Are you a curse? — he was smoking his cigarette calmly. ━━ I can feel your cursed energy.

━━ Succubus and incubus are not curses, but we have cursed energy.

━━ Then why are you here? I don't think I have anything that interests you, except my skills.

━━ I think your skills are formidable, but I don't want them, don't worry — you leaned over the balcony and took the cigarette from his lips, smoking it before giving it back. ━━ I want something else, and it can help you.

━━ I'm listening.

━━ I want to have sex with you.

Suguru almost choked on his own smoke at that moment. A creature appeared on his bedroom balcony in the middle of a summer night and suddenly said it wanted to have sex with him? That's weird.

━━ Sorry, I'm usually pretty straight to the point, haha.

━━ Can you explain? — he was recovering from his surprised cough.

━━ I feed on vital energy, and I need yours. Don't worry, I won't take everything, and you will recover pretty quickly because of your cursed energy level.

━━ What do I get from that?

━━ I have been watching you during this time, I know you are stressed and exhausted from having to deal with curses. So... I can make you feel good, really good, trust me...

━━ I won't sell myself for lust, not even if... holy shit.

While he was talking, you took off the thin t-shirt you were wearing and left your breasts exposed, leaving now only your denim mini skirt.

━━ C'mon, Suguru... don't you think you deserve some love? — you told him, in your seductive way.

The answer after that was clearly yes, and he buried the cigarette in the ashtray before kissing your lips eagerly and holding you in his arms, dragging you to the bed. Even though you had just met, it wasn't difficult for you to find the harmony between your bodies because somehow, you had the perfect fit.

You told the sorcerer that he just needed to let you ride him so he could be calm and sleep happily. He didn't think twice before accepting the proposal, and now you were there, in his lap.

Geto was lying down, with his eyes closed and moaning slyly while keeping his hands on your hips. You kept your weight on your knees, resting on the mattress as you moved your hips up and down, feeling your pussy milking his cock. His fingerprints would stay on your hot skin for a long time, you never wanted to forget this.

He looked beautiful with his hair messy like that, begging for more and being sensitive.

━━ W-What kind of black magic is this? W-What are you doing to me? — he moaned frantically. ━━ Oh my fucking God... that's so perfect...

You giggled mischievously as you continued moaning and said in your most promiscuous tone:

━━ I put a spell on you... — you brought a hand to his face, sliding it across his lower lip. ━━ Because you're mine...

[...]

۰ ࣪📂 ٬٬ 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: maybe it's a random topic but i was fantasizing about it one day and decided to write :) everything was written by me, don't take it as yours or get inspired without giving credit.

2K notes · View notes

all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months

Text

if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one. Soap's heard that saying once or twice.

and here you are. claiming to be his... issuance.

you tilt your head. "you don't remember signing up for the program?"

no. no, he doesn't. his eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. he'd remember that. more to the point, he'd remember whatever he did to deserve this. he looks you up and down again, disbelief and desire flashing across his face, and not in equal measure.

you’re like if someone wrung the starry slurry of thoughts constituting what makes a perfect woman directly from his brain matter, let it ferment and clarify like honey wine, put marriage papers in her hand, and dressed her in a… in a fucking… are those stockings stretching up under your skirt?

hell’s bells. you’re one part girl next door, one part muse—the one his hand can never quite shape on the page to match what’s in his head—and several shades of his favorite porn star. an old-fashioned pin-up doll in the flesh.

"you're not John MacTavish, then," you say, peering down at the papers in your hand with a small frown. "so sorry to bother you—"

“no, hold on.” he takes a step closer. “i’m him, aye. but the program...” the application questionnaire. filling it out was nothing more than a drunken bet with Gaz, but yes, he dimly remembers it. doesn't recall turning it in, but maybe he was drunker than he thought. “it's real?"

“completely real. i was selected for you based on the preferences you specified,” you tell him. you shift the clipboard into your other arm, pleasant smile turning into a frown. "but i couldn't possibly ask you to sign a marriage certificate sponsored by a program you don't even remember applying for."

oh, that is rich. you don’t seem to see the humor here. it’s absurd. have you not seen yourself? he'd be daft to pass on someone as bonnie as you.

not to mention you seem more than a little disappointed at the idea of being turned down. that fuels his ego even more.

"you're sayin' you're a part of that military partnership program, aye? and you were handpicked as my spouse based on a few questions?"

you helpfully produce a copy of his responses in pink triplicate. sure enough, he recognizes his own drunken scrawl.

none of the questions have anything to do his preferences looks-wise. career aspirations, communication preferences, hobbies, his ideal saturday night. his sleeping habits. this is a psychological profile. CIA shite, as Gaz would say.

he doubts his drunken self read more than a few lines of this paperwork while he was constructing his dream girl in the survey blanks.

as he studies the page a little too closely, your small frown turns into a frustrated scowl. "john? um, i mean."

it instantly pulls his eyes back to your lips.

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger. "it’s nice to meet you,” you say in a tone that makes it clear what you’re really saying is ‘hey, stud, i'm looking forward to the honeymoon.’

that’s your attempt, at least. but Soap sees more than you mean to show. the way you play that card--the way you twirl your damn hair--is the clumsiest, most blatant attempt to flirt. somehow, that's what catches him off-guard the most. It makes his heart squeeze. god, are you nervous? you?

he runs over the back of his teeth in the split second before his signature lazy smirk slides back across his face. "happy you got paired up with a bloke like me?"

he hands the paperwork back to you. you take it back with great relief and nestle it securely into the crook of your elbow. you’re certain he didn’t sign every single blank he was supposed to, but he won’t remember that. you’ll check the signature lines later and forge his handwriting to finish it.

you smile prettily at him. then you make it a little more coy. you should be bashful--he's handsome. "i'm lucky. you're special forces. i’m a nobody, really. if you want, you could try filing for a spouse upgrade. if you want a really good fiancée..."

“fiancée." Soap rolls the word around his tongue. "is that what i should call you?”

"well. you saw my name on the paperwork," you point out. you know very well he didn't.

before he can ask any more questions, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and pull away, walking down the hall with documents in tow. his gaze is heavy on your back.

the documents in your arm are real enough. Soap really did complete that questionnaire, just like how he remembers. getting the application turned in is what required a little creative effort.

but as long as nobody looks too closely at the military ID photocopied in the application file, they won't notice that the mostly-obscured face of the soldier who turned the application in doesn't look much like Soap at all.

...

more Soap / masterlist

2K notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 5 months

Text

One happy marriage.

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: the reader lies about something important and finally breaks down to tell her husband about it.

Masterlist

..........................................................

"I have started our marriage with the most audacious lie, Benedict!"

He looked up from his sketchbook with a curious look, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"

Y/N covered her mouth with a quiet sob. The lie was eating at her every day and she knew sooner or later the truth would reveal itself. Too bad she revealed it on her own.

Benedict frowned and stood quickly. He raced towards her and sat down cautiously on the sofa next to her. One arm gently pulled her to him, "Darling? I'm sure whatever it is can be forgiven."

She shook her head quickly and spoke through hiccups, "No…. It's unspeakable. Pl… please don't leave me."

This started to worry the poor man.

His hands gently ran up and down her arms, "I promise you, my dear. Whatever has happened, we will be as we are now."

She pulls away from him and wipes her eyes. "I am so sorry, Benedict."

He felt his heart break at the sight of her tears and pleads. "You must tell me what has troubled you this badly."

She shakes her head again, "I don't know if I can."

Benedict sighs.

He was a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons are nothing if not stubborn.

He gently takes her face in his hands. "How then, darling, am I to help fix this issue if I do not know of it?"

She stared up at him. How could she deny him? He was her heart. "I… I have lied to you so dreadfully."

He nods in thought, "Alright?"

She takes a deep breath, "I am an artist."

Benedict's head tilts. "Oh."

She looks up at him to gauge his reaction. "When we were courting, you asked if I was an artist. I said no. I… I lied to you."

He nods again with his lips in a tight line, "Yes. So you did."

She felt awful.

Silence fell over the two before Benedict broke it, "And your work?"

Her head perked up. "My work?"

He gave a slight smirk, "Yes, my dear, your work."

She nodded, "The… the paintings in the parlor… I lied. I do not collect them… I ma... I made all of those."

Benedict smiled widely. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head, "I know."

She stiffened. "What?"

He leaned back and his smile only grew, "I knew, darling. I've always known. I was waiting for you to tell me."

Now it was her turn to feel a bit speechless.

Benedict continued, "I understand why you lied. Those pieces are gorgeous, and the last thing you wanted was your courter... well... your husband... to feel… lowly of his own work-"

"-but your work is lovely, Ben." She quickly interrupted.

"Ah, yes, but not like yours, my dear."

"But how did you know?"

He shrugged, "John Marques is not a real painter." He leaned close to her ear, "And yet, his name is on every plaque in the house."

She let out a laugh so happy, Benedict swore he had never heard one that matched.

She jumped into his lap and held him close.

And he was beyond happy to hold her so near.

He pulled away just to kiss her.

They could feel each other's smiles as their lips pressed together.

She broke away, just close enough to feel his breath on her lips, "And you truly aren't upset at me?"

He laughed, "How could I be? My very own wife, a most talented painter? How on earth could I ever be upset? I'm the happiest husband in the ton!"

Two artists make one happy marriage.

...................................................................

#fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x y/n

2K notes · View notes

tongue-like-a-razor · 6 months

Text

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@coffeeaddictedmay

@boringusername3

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@annedub

@jules-1999

@black--lightning

@j-velvet

@xoxabs88xox

@cyanide-cryptid

@callsignvenus

@artemissunn

@gcldtom

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@birdy-bat-writes

@wkndwlff

@chaosmxlcolm

@iminlovewithenchilidadas

@daniibzz

@avis15

@valhallavalkyrie9

@ijustwantedplums

@hal3ynicol3

@avengersfan25

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@lovingperfectionsblog

@bblpbb

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@adaydreamaway08

@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

2K notes · View notes

wysteria-bloom · 6 months

Text

⚝ " i'll never smile again "

The hazbin boys are visibly stressed

Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.

Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer

▢ vox ᯤ

- Offering sexual favours -

Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.

He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.

Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.

Whoopee fucking doo.

"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."

"Here, sir."

"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.

"You're a little creep, y'know that?"

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"

She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."

His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"

"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.

Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.

"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.

A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"

He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"

His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."

"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"

He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."

She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.

Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

▢ alastor ⍋

- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -

A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.

There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.

"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.

(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.

"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.

He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.

"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.

"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."

"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.

"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."

"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."

She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"

He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.

"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"

"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"

She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.

Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.

Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."

(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"

"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."

She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."

Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "

Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -

"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"

(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.

He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.

And make his cute rubber duckies.

But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.

She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.

So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.

He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."

She smiled," Hey."

"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"

"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."

He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"

"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.

"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."

(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."

He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.

"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"

"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."

"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."

"Don't I know it~!"

#alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #vox x y/n #vox x you #vox x reader #vox x valentino #im sad and tired #writing can only save me from the bleak reality that is life

1K notes · View notes

dovveri · 4 months

Text

ordinarily

synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend

warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate

w/c: 7.8k

a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“ms. l/n?”

“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.

“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”

she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”

she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.

she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”

“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.

“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”

she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”

“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.

"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"

you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.

"how long has this been going on?"

"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"

"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"

"no."

"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"

"not really, no."

"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"

"u-um... yes."

"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"

ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.

"u-um yes i think so."

"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.

"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"

"for lack of better words yes."

"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."

"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.

"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"

"i- um- i-"

"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."

you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"

sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."

you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."

sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"

"i- um- yes... to all of those."

"have you ever orgasmed before?"

"i- yes."

she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"

you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.

sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."

ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"

"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."

ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."

sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"

ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"

"it's a yes or no question."

"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"

"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.

"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"

"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."

ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.

sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.

"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"

"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."

"but you just said-"

"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."

you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."

she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"

you blush, shaking your head.

"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"

"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."

"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.

"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."

"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"

you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."

"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."

"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.

"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.

"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."

sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"

"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"

"and you're able to make yourself come?"

"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."

"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"

you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.

"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."

"how would i unlearn that?"

"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."

you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-

she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.

she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."

"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.

sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.

you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.

you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.

"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"

you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.

one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.

she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"

you nod, "a little."

she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."

it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.

when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.

“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.

you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”

sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.

but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.

“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”

sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”

you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“

“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.

the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.

"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"

you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.

she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.

“alright?”

“mhm just- just do it.”

“do what sweetie?”

“just- you know-“

“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.

“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“

she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.

you’re breathless at the feeling.

“painful at all?”

“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”

you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”

you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.

“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”

you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.

you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.

“good?”

“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“

she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.

“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.

“y-yeah.”

now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.

you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.

"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"

so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.

but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.

you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.

"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.

you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.

once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.

you clear your throat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.

"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."

"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.

"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"

the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.

"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.

if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.

"y/n?"

your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.

you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.

"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.

"just happy to see you again."

her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.

"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"

"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."

"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"

"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."

sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"

"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"

"hmm? what is it?"

"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."

sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"

"i- um- sorry what?"

"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."

"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.

sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.

"something wrong sana?"

"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"

"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."

"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.

your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."

sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."

"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.

"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"

"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.

"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"

you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.

sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.

"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.

"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.

sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.

"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.

"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.

"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.

sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.

"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"

she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.

you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.

but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.

you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.

her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.

"oh shit-"

sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.

when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.

"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.

you whine, "n-no- you can move."

she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.

"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.

you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.

you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.

"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"

"hmm? good?"

"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"

"do you mind if i..."

you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"

you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.

sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"

"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"

so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.

sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.

eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.

sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."

you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.

she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.

"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.

you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.

"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."

you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.

"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"

you shake your head, coming to a stand.

"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."

you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.

you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this continues between the two of you for a few months.

you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.

your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.

you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.

"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.

"just think you're nice to look at."

she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."

you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."

she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."

you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."

sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.

"what's up?"

"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"

"i told you i haven't."

she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"

you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."

"then you should try having sex again."

you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"

sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."

"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"

sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."

"good. i was actually thinking..."

"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.

"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."

"mhm."

"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.

"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.

sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."

your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her

"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."

you pout a little but it’s quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.

#sana #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana smut #twice smut #sana imagines #twice imagines #twice sana x reader #twice sana smut #dovveri

938 notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 2 months

Text

for the fear of falling apart | part three

when it seems like a return to normalcy is impossible, you decide that something has to give, but will it bend or will it break?

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: fear of drowning, therapy, mommy and daddy issues, sigmund freud, nightmares and ptsd, sleep deprivation, takes place during 15x4 "saturday" (max does not exist in this au), stalkers, yelling, police, domestic disturbance, broken dishes, severe self image issues, crying, implies that jj is sometimes not the greatest friend, marriage and marriage counseling, mentions the death of grace lynch, the chameleon arc, reader and spencer are both broken people sry. things get resolved (or do they?) word count: 5.13k a/n: i'm trying to come to terms with the fact that people will not like how this part goes, but i do think it's important to remember that this is not where it ends. it's probably easy to guess what episode I'm rewriting next. lol. let me know your thoughts and feelings because i am dying to know.

“Are you glad to be back at work?” Your therapist asked you, writing down your personal information on the form on her clipboard before she met your stare.

Chewing impatiently on the inside of your lip, you glanced over to the clock that was hung above the door, dooming you to another forty-five minutes with Dr. Harmon. “Yes, I love desk duty,” you told her, flashing a fake smile in her direction.

The older woman looked at you doubtfully, and you silently begged for her to sign your return to duty forms. “I thought we spoke about using sarcasm as a coping mechanism,” she responded in a way that made you feel chastised.

You raised your eyebrows at her, gray hair neatly combed into a tight bun, you had spent more time with your therapist for the past two months than you had any of your family – the rest of your time was spent retraining your body, usually within the limitations of your doctor’s orders. “And I thought we talked about there being worse coping mechanisms that I could be using,” you countered, leaning back in her chair.

She shrugged helplessly, “Well, I’m not sure about signing your release forms. You could be a liability in the field.”

Eyes widening, you tilted your head to the side, “No, no, no, I’ve grown a new appreciation for the desk workers in the BAU. I even stopped laughing when people refer to Agent Anderson as Grunt Anderson,” you informed her, nodding as if that would help convince her of your honesty.

Checking off a box on your form, she set the clipboard on her side table, just out of your view. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Harmon leaned forward and folded her hands over her knee, “Have you spoken to your sister since the last time I saw you?”

You leaned your head back, staring at the tiles of the ceiling as any hope of returning to the field left your body.

One of your very first dates with Spencer had been at the Academy’s shooting range, you had a lucky spot there, it was where you had aced your qualification as a cadet, and it was pure luck that it had been available when you arrived.

As your paper target was brought forward, you slipped off your headphones and set your weapon down, studying the results as you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

“Hey,” Spencer said from behind you, casually leaning against the wall behind you.

You jumped slightly as the sound of his voice took you away from your anxiety, “Hey,” you echoed, holstering your weapon as you sent your target back for someone to change it out.

“I thought you were going to come to the BAU after therapy,” he explained, arms crossed in front of his chest in his charcoal suit, camouflaging himself with the steely gray of the shooting range.

Pursing your lips, you made sure you had your phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag, “I wanted to get some practice in before my requalification test.”

He looked surprised for a moment, “Did your therapist sign your return to duty?”

“No,” you muttered, knowing that you wouldn’t be eligible to take your firearms requalification until after you had been cleared by a psychiatrist.

Any surprise quickly left his face, “What did she say, then?”

You rolled your eyes, “She told me that it’s possible that my strained relationship with my parents is negatively affecting my performance in my sessions. Then she threw a Freud biography at my head.”

“Did you talk to her about the nightmares?” He asked, following you as you checked out of the shooting range, waving to a gaggle of cadets as they noticed the BAU agents in their general vicinity.

Faltering as you opened the door, you flung the glass door open and trudged out of it, “I have it under control,” you lied through your teeth, continuing your way to the elevator.

The tapping of Spencer’s shoes signified that he was following you, holding his hand over the sensor while you stepped in and using his knuckle to press the parking garage button, “You were up all night last night,” he retorted, “She could help you develop a coping mechanism that works for you so that you can get some rest, angel.”

You were getting tired of those words, “Well, maybe we’ll reach a breakthrough next week. You never know.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being so unamenable,” he accused.

Shaking your head as you stepped out of the elevator, you hoisted your bag back over your shoulder, “Is unamenable genius-speak for pain in the ass?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” he retorted, swiping the keys out of your hands before unlocking the car and getting in the driver’s seat. You had been cleared to drive weeks ago, but Spencer still insisted on driving you.

You groaned, “My recent brush with death has made it difficult for me to let bygones be bygones.”

Pulling out of the parking spot, he carefully placed both of his hands on the steering wheel, “And here I thought we were actually going to move on with our lives.”

“No one holds a grudge like a youngest child,” you informed him, leaning your head against the window and wishing you had driven separately.

Being at home wasn’t much better than being at Quantico. You quickly changed and settled yourself on the couch while Spencer sat across from you, legs crossed in the wingback chair as he finished filling in a crossword book that you had started that morning.

You watched the clock tick, the diffused orange light of the sunset beamed through the curtains, and you felt yourself settle. Stiff joints and aching muscles unwound on the supple leather of the couch, and as you let your eyes fall shut, you felt the breeze of someone walking by before Spencer stopped in front of you.

Gently, he draped a knit blanket over you, tucking you in before crouching and dropping a gentle kiss to your temple.

Y/N is down, she’s been hit. We need an ambulance now.

I know, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.

It’s okay. I’ve got you.

“Honey, wake up.”

You startled awake on the couch, wadding up the blanket in your fists as your eyes adjusted to the dim environment of the apartment. The sun had set, dipping below the skyline as you stared ahead.

Concerned brown eyes bore into you as you caught your breath, Spencer reached over and flicked on the table lamp next to you, “You’re alright,” he cooed, gently enough to make you want to cry. “It was just a bad dream,” he told you, cupping your cheek and studying your expression.

Nodding absently, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, the familiar knit blanket falling in a puddle around your waist. “I was in the parking garage again,” you preemptively answered his next question. You were usually in the parking garage, sometimes you were on the beach, and once you had been fully underwater.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

You shook your head and ignored the defeated look on Spencer’s face, instead burying your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths.

He waited for a moment before speaking again, reaching out and adjusting the bunched-up fabric of your t-shirt, “Are you hungry? I made soup.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, afraid it would start growling at the mention of food.

As you watched Spencer get up and walk over to the kitchen, you let yourself feel like everything was alright for the slightest moment. You wanted your apartment to be your safe space where there were no serial killers or sisters or hospitals, but there was a classified file on the kitchen table, photos of you and your sister littered the walls, and there was an entire drawer in the home office dedicated to your hospital stay.

Melding into the couch cushions, you ignored the stiffness in your side, the scars that marred your skin were healed over, but the memory would stick with you for a lifetime. It felt like a phantom pain, irritating your skin whenever you thought too much about it, or whenever your therapist asked you about Grace Lynch.

It didn’t bring you a lot of comfort to know that she was dead, murdered by her own father after conning her ex-girlfriend into giving her money. Everett Lynch was the threat now, and you were stuck on the bench.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your cheek on your knee as Spencer ladled soup into a bowl and presented it to you, complete with a few ice cubes to cool it down. He waltzed back into the kitchen to clean up when his phone rang.

You ignored his conversation while you stirred the ice cubes around in your bowl, the soft clinking of them mesmerizing your tired brain. You ate while he spoke on the phone, mentioning something about a case. Pushing any thoughts of serial killers away, you just ate your soup.

Sipping at the broth, you grew curious about what was going on over the phone, but you tried to mind your business, scooping at the last noodles in the bowl before setting it down on the coffee table.

“Who was that?” You asked, eyes following Spencer as he walked back over to the living room, slipping his phone in his pocket as he sat next to you on the couch.

He paused for a moment, and you immediately regretted asking, “Uh, it was JJ.”

You supposed it had to mean something that he elected to tell you the truth instead of lying to you, but you were no longer feeling optimistic, “Ah.”

“Don’t start,” he said immediately.

You turned to him, raising your eyebrows curiously and pushing yourself into the corner of the couch – away from him, “Start what, Spencer?”

Spencer put his hands up, “Picking a fight with me over JJ’s feelings. JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope are working on a stalker case, it’s nothing that we need to worry about.”

“I’m not going to pick a fight with you, I already told you that I forgive you,” you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He groaned in frustration, “You can say it all you want, but you haven’t. You haven’t forgiven me.”

As he usually was, Spencer was right, you hadn’t forgiven him for lying to you about what had happened between him and JJ. You wanted to. You wanted to find it in yourself to be the bigger person and just tell him it was fine. All you wanted was to move on, but you were crashing into roadblock after roadblock. “Are you going to work that case?”

“No, it’s a classic stalking case, they’ll make it without me,” he said, turning on the couch to face you.

You swallowed thickly, “You can go if you’d rather be there,” you reassured him, wondering if he’d be happier at work than at home with you. Someone needed to make a decision, someone needed to decide whether or not the two of you were going to keep going or if you were going to call it off. You didn’t want it to be you, you were afraid of which option you might choose.

Spencer frowned, “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m not,” you answered.

“Yes, yes you are,” he challenged, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

Shaking your head, you threw your hands up in surrender, “You don’t have to go. You can stay here. You live here. Who the fuck am I to tell you to leave?”

“And now you’re escalating the situation,” he observed, straightening up and watching you carefully.

You didn’t consider yourself an angry person. The two of you didn’t fight often, but as you considered your options, you wondered if it could help. Maybe you could replicate the feeling of a good cry. Maybe all you need is a good fight. Just talk it out – loudly. “I’m not escalating anything. I’m not starting anything. In case you haven’t noticed, this has been going on for months.”

He had noticed, he could probably give you an exact date and time to point out when everything fell apart. Was it inside the pawn shop? Was it in the courtyard outside of Rossi’s wedding? “I thought we had made some real progress at the hospital,” he challenged.

Getting up from the couch, you took a deep breath and tossed the blanket over the back, “You cannot seriously think that. You’re too smart to believe that, Spencer. The idea that we fixed everything while I was hopped up on Xanax and painkillers. It’s… it’s…” you stumbled over your words for a moment. It’s crazy. You wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t do that to him. Spencer had spent his whole life having that word thrown at his mother, and he spent adulthood fearing he’d have a schizophrenic break. “It’s outlandish,” you finally finished.

Spencer looked up at you from the couch, “Is it outlandish to think that the history we have together would help mend our relationship?”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know, Spencer, let’s take a look at your history with my sister,” you snapped.

“Oh, come on,” he protested.

“No,” you commanded, “Sit down and shut up. I’ve spent months waiting for you to get it, but apparently, I need to spell it out for you.”

To your surprise, he listened, watching you in silence as you took a deep breath, picked up your soup bowl, and brought it into the kitchen. Your heartbeat pounded like thunder in your ears.

Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “I want you to empathize with me.” You calculated every word you said, “We’ve known each other for nine years. We’ve been together for seven, and I- I had the rug pulled out from under me. God, you went on a date with my sister. You took her to a football game as a hater of organized sports. My beautiful, prom queen, soccer star, gem of the family older sister.”

“It wasn’t a date, Penelope went with us,” Spencer added patiently.

You peered down at him, “When you asked her to go with you, did you do it with the intention that you would be taking her on a date?”

His shoulders slackened, “Yeah,” he answered softly.

“And you know that she loves you. If you went to her right now and told her you wanted to be with her, that there’s a chance she’d consider it. She’d at least have to think about it,” you told him, confidence dissipating as your hands started to tremble and you silently begged yourself not to cry.

Spencer watched you suspiciously, “What gave you the impression that I want to be with her instead of you?”

You faltered, just for a moment, “Why wouldn’t you want to be with her?” You asked exasperatedly, letting your arms fall limply at your sides.

Pinching his eyebrows together, your boyfriend looked at you like you had grown a third eye, “She’s married? Her kids are my godchildren?”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you cursed yourself as tears stung your eyes, “Are those seriously the only reasons you can think of?” With all the brain power you knew he had, you couldn’t help but be disappointed.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, “Putting aside the fact that I’d be destroying a marriage, not because it doesn’t matter, but because being with your sister isn’t even something I’d consider. This might not have occurred to you, but I have absolutely no interest in being with someone other than you!”

You huffed, “Please, she’s beautiful and athletic and older and you’ve known her for fifteen years!” You shouted over your shoulder, making your way back to the kitchen. There wasn’t anything you needed from in there, you just needed to keep moving.

“But she’s not you!” He yelled from the couch, finally getting up and following you to the kitchen.

Spinning around on your heel, you threw your arms in the air, “God, I know!” You swung your arms down, accidentally sending the bowl you had set on the counter down to the floor, breaking on impact. “Shit,” you muttered, immediately dropping to a crouch and starting to pick up the ceramic shards.

“Hey, wait, let me get it,” Spencer insisted, grabbing a kitchen towel from the drawer before laying it on the floor. He carefully picked up the larger shards, waving your hands away.

You clenched your hands and glared at him with bleary eyes, “Why? Why am I not allowed to clean up the mess that I made?”

Spencer sighed, “You’re crying. I don’t want you to get hurt because you can’t see well,” he told you, prompting you to sit back on the tile and watch him continue to pick up.

You crisscrossed your legs and watched him, “I’m sorry for yelling,” you whispered, so quietly that you weren’t even sure he had heard you.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Spencer gathered up the kitchen towel and set it on the counter, setting his hands on the counter and taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he echoed your sentiments. He moved to the hall closet to get out the broom, interrupted by a knock on the door.

Confused, you poked your head over the counter and watched as Spencer opened the front door.

“Good evening, officer,” he greeted, casting a sidelong glance over at you.

Fuck.

You scrambled to your feet, careful not to step on any pieces of the bowl that remained on the floor and wiping beneath your eyes as you made your way to the door, peeking around the corner to find two DC Metro officers. “Agent Jareau?” One of the officers said curiously.

“Hi,” you waved timidly, looking between the two of them with your tail between your legs.

He looked surprised at the revelation of who lived here, recognizing you from a case you had consulted on months ago. “We were called here on a report of a domestic disturbance, your neighbor in said she heard ‘a lot of yelling before there was a crash and then everything went quiet’.”

The summation of events did nothing to slow your racing heart, “We had uh… we were having a disagreement, and I knocked over a bowl. It was an accident,” you reassured the officer, reaching out and taking Spencer’s hand as a sign of good faith.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You nodded in confirmation, “I’m really sorry about any inconvenience, but I promise there’s nothing to worry about.”

The DC Metro officers studied Spencer suspiciously, and you protectively moved in front of him. They were trained to see the worst-case scenario, but there was nothing happening here, “Well then, just uh… try to keep it down, I suppose.”

The two of you waved as they walked away, once the door was closed, you turned to face Spencer, “Are you alright?”

He looked a little pale, “I’m alright,” he nodded, gathering himself before going back to the hall closet. “That was weird,” he added.

Spencer’s interaction with police officers was limited to work with the bureau and his time in prison. He never had to explain an underage drunk person in the car or run when a party got too rowdy, but he wasn’t concerned with the confrontation, he was concerned that, for a moment, before you got there, those officers saw Spencer as a violent person. You stayed put, watching him sweep up the last of the bowl and take care of the sharp pieces with a keen eye.

“I’d never hurt you,” Spencer said softly, unnecessarily explaining to you.

You nodded, “I know. You’re not like that, baby. You’re not a violent person.” In fact, you had only seen Spencer aggressively violent one time in your life, and that was when his mother’s life was on the line. Stepping over to him, you lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the kitchen counter, meeting his eyes.

“She is not you,” he murmured, reaching out and taking both of your hands in his.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, “I am well aware,” you offered.

He took a deep breath, “JJ would never ask me to recite Henry James to her or offer to go to the planetarium with me even after we spent all day on a case or sit through one of my lectures just to hear me talk about something I’m passionate about,” he began. "I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation about something I’m passionate about with your sister. Not one where she didn’t interrupt me or pawn me off on somebody else,” he told you, disconnecting one of your hands to wipe new tears from your cheeks.

“I- I’m not…” you breathed, overwhelmed as he sang your praises.

“I know you compare yourself to her,” he cut you off, “it’s normal for you to compare yourself to your older sister. I just didn’t know how lowly you thought of yourself until all of this was dug up.”

Frowning, you cocked your head to the side, “I do not compare myself to her,” you remarked.

He hummed in response, “It wasn’t up for debate. I’m not interested in your sister. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone except for you. I am sorry that I never told you about the football game, but by the time you joined the team, six years had passed, and I didn’t think it was pertinent to tell you that your sister had rejected me. That is entirely on me, and I can’t change it. I can, however, spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

Your breathing hitched, and the ghost of a potential proposal once again floated through the air, it made your heart ache. “One of these days you’re going to have to actually ask me to marry you,” you whispered, not sure how much longer you’d be able to sit and wait while he neglected to act upon his words.

“What do you want right now?” Spencer asked, studying your facial expression.

You have spent three months being mad at him, and you had to believe it all came down to tonight. Neither of you could keep going with things the way they were. “I’m not sure,” you answered.

Patiently, Spencer inquired, “Do you want to break up?”

If you told him you hadn’t thought about it, you’d be lying. It broke your heart to think about ending things with him, to think that six years together didn’t mean something to the both of you. Spencer had never given any inclination that he was interested in anyone else, so maybe he should’ve told you about the football game, but you shouldn't have let your insecurities block any attempt at reconciliation. “No,” you responded truthfully.

He had tried, too. The one-sided conversations he had with floral bouquets, taking time off of work to help you while you recovered, and he had even limited his contact with your sister. “Do you want to go to couple’s therapy?”

You had heard through the grapevine that your sister was trying marriage counseling with Will, something about working on their communication skills. With that in mind, you nodded, “We can try it out.”

“Do you know what you want?” He asked, settling a hand on your thigh.

Through the sheer curtains, you looked outside, “I want to go,” you informed him, hopping off of the kitchen counter and to your shared bedroom, pulling on a pair of socks.

Confused, Spencer followed you around the apartment, “Wait. Where are we going?”

“I’m going,” you said simply.

He looked surprised at this, “It’s the middle of the night in the twenty-second largest city in the country, you’re not going out alone.”

You paused for a moment at his concern, watching the defeated look on his face morph into one of relief when you responded, “Then put your shoes on,” you encouraged.

As you waited by the door, mindful to not walk through the apartment with your shoes on, he stopped in your bedroom for a moment before coming back out and slipping his sneakers on. “Where are we going?”

Grabbing your keys off of the hook, you opened the door and held it for Spencer as he followed your lead. “You know at the start of Moby Dick when Ishmael says when he finds himself growing grim about the mouth and wanting to knock people’s hats off, he takes to the sea?”

He nods, taking the keys from your hand and locking the door behind him, glancing briefly at your neighbor’s door before handing your keys back to you, “I’m familiar,” he confirmed.

“Well, I’m feeling rather grim about the mouth,” you told him assuredly, slipping your keys into your pockets and slowly making your way down the hold staircase of your apartment building, listening for Spencer’s footsteps right behind you.

Even with your back turned, you knew his expression would be one of confusion, “So, you want to take to the sea?”

You quickly shook your head, the very last place you wanted to be was near a body of water in the middle of the night, “Not particularly, but maybe the park and some fresh air would do me some good.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he confirmed, stepping around you to hold the front door open so that you could walk outside, the cool night air stinging your face as you did.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at the night sky, the stars hidden through the city’s light pollution.

Upon reaching the park, which was just a small green space down the street from your apartment, Spencer led you to a cement bench, the two of you sitting down and sitting in silence. You welcomed the cold air filling your lungs, watching the fountain from a distance and admiring the way the headlights of a few passing cars reflected off of the water.

He kept a hand on your back, gently moving his hand up and down your spine as the two of you reveled in the startling nighttime peace. “I haven’t been fair to you,” you murmured nervously, looking over at him.

“None of this has been fair to anyone,” he reminded you.

You sighed, “JJ confessed her feelings, not the other way around, and I- I shouldn’t have held that against you for so long.” The admission came to you easily, holding your breath as you waited for him to agree.

Spencer’s silence worried you, but then he finally responded, “I probably would have done the same thing, but I don’t think it’s right for me to speculate how I would or wouldn’t have acted in your shoes.”

“I just… she’s always been perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect agent, and I’m… I’m just me,” you said helplessly, staring ahead at the fountain.

He took a deep breath, “You’re perfect to me.”

“Stop,” you chastised halfheartedly.

Chuckling, he placed his hand over yours, “I mean it. Sometimes perfection is about the final concoction and not about getting all of the steps right. You don’t need the perfect journey, and, to me, nothing proves that more than you.”

You hummed, “You’re sweet.”

“For what it’s worth, I think, given the opportunity, you could be a perfect wife,” he said, nudging your leg with his knee, getting your head to snap to the side.

Jumping up from the bench, you smacked your hand over your mouth at the small black box that he had set on the stone surface. “What are you… what?” You asked breathlessly, looking behind you in the way people usually did when they were surprised, waiting to see if you were being pranked.

“It doesn’t have to be an engagement ring,” he reached down and snapped the box open, showing you the glimmering ring inside. “It can just be a promise because I am promising you right now, this is it for me. You are the only person I can see myself with, and I’m ready to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Gaping at him, you looked between him and the ring before closing your mouth, “That sounds an awful lot like an engagement ring,” you told him, out of breath.

He nodded, “That’s because I want it to be.”

“Okay,” you answered.

“What?”

You giggled, he evidently hadn’t expected that answer, “Yes, Spencer.”

He stood up, tackling you in an embrace, “Thank goodness.” He said, relaxing into you as you returned his hug.

Over the past few months, you had been almost afraid of him asking you, worried that it would feel like an excuse. A band-aid over a bullet hole. But as you held each other tightly, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of right. This was where you were always meant to be. “Will you put it on me?”

He nodded slowly, sniffling as he pulled away from you, the warmth of his body leaving you as he nimbly took your left hand, slipping the ring on your fourth finger. The metal felt foreign on your skin, but you welcomed it nonetheless. “That has been sitting in my sock drawer for a year,” he admitted, placing both of his hands on your waist and meeting your eyes.

You beamed up at him, at both the revelation that he bought you a ring well before any of the trials and tribulations of the last few months and that he hid the ring in the one place you never touched – the seemingly bottomless abyss of unmated socks that Spencer called his sock drawer. “Thank you,” you breathed.

Spencer leaned his head down, hovering his lips just above your own, “For what, love?”

Blinking small tears out of your eyes, you answered, “For not giving up on us.”

He smiled, “Never,” he whispered before dropping his lips to yours, the intimacy of something as small as a kiss enough to bring butterflies to your stomach. “Do you want to go home? Or are you still feeling grim about the mouth?”

“Let’s go home, Spence,” you told him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before the two of you began the trek home, hand in hand.

taglist: @football1921 @thedancingnerdmermaid @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @cillsnostalgia @alivesarcastically

@hellsingalucard18 @poetoflawed @lillysfrogsandbogs @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sndixz

@k-corbett @nott-my-riddle @guiltyyassin @starkeyellow @rainydayathogwarts

@roblino @awildfirestarting @getawaycarsficrecs @syd-maximoff @melodyflowersblog

@stargirlls-world @ovando13

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #jennifer jareau #jareau!reader #written by margot #ffofa

700 notes · View notes