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#it's supposed to be fall but it's still SO HOT
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stress relief | spencer reid x reader
wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+
warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader
a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3
(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)
When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.
“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.
You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”
“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”
Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”
“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.
His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”
“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.
Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”
“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."
Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."
“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”
“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”
“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”
Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”
“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."
Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.
You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.
You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”
His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”
“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”
Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.
Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.
Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.
His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.
The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”
“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”
Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”
“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.
“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”
He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”
You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”
“I love you.” Spencer says softly.
“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”
“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”
You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.
And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.
Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.
One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.
You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.
Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”
He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”
Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”
His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.
After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.
Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”
“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”
“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”
“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”
“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.
“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”
Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”
You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”
He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”
You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”
“I know,�� Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.
Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”
Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.
“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”
”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”
Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.
When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.
You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.
“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.
You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.
He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.
“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”
”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”
You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.
”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.
”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”
”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”
“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.
You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”
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hitlikehammers · 18 hours
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Steddie Missed Connection AU
feat. Craigslist-trawling-wingwoman!Robin + earnest-LA-transplant!Steve + rockstar!Eddie ✨ inspired by this actual Craigslist love story
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It’s always about a 50/50 shot when Robin starts making her little back-of-the-throat squealing noises. Up to a certain pitch, Steve could pretend he had his AirPods on noise cancellation mode.
Once she reached fire-alarm-screeching levels, it overrode the settings and boom: he lost his fall guy.
Thanks, Apple.
But that’s where they are, and the squealing plus the screen in her hands, plus the way her leg’s bouncing against the table they’re both sitting at—which would have overrrode Steve’s AirPod excuse in about a minute because she’s gonna start splashing his glass of orange juice in a hot second—but all of it lumped together?
He’s lucky he’s retained his athletic reflexes post-high school—maybe only because of being joined-at-the-hip with this particular platonic soulmate, really—because by the time she’s swinging her iPad from its case to plop right down in front of him?
At least he’s quick enough to save his overnight oats from becoming aluminum-flavored when she drops the goddamn thing down without warning—caseless, the heathen—and makes indecipherable noises Steve thinks he’s maybe only heard at the zoo as she taps her nail with an migraine-inducing click on the screen.
Steve…supposes this means he’s obligated to look.
He sighs, fully expecting a dumb meme or a ‘cute TikTok’ because he knows who he fucking lives with; he reaches across the table and unfolds his glasses—really, assaulting him with this before he can even get his contacts in…
And it’s a…webpage. Like: just a webpage. A boring webpage, even. Definitely not matching up with the…squealing and table-sized earthquake of bouncing knees. He squints, tries to make it make sense.
Oh. Wow. He didn’t…
Steve did not actually know Craigslist still existed, let alone that people still used it. He was pretty sure the things for sale were always just kidnapping plots with extra steps, and then also that finding a person you walked past that one time was an FYP problem to solve. But.
Here, in front of him, in black and white and honestly like no other color:
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Steve squints; it was posted this morning, but only just. Like 4am. So the last afternoon for there to be a one o’clock hour was—
Yesterday.
His yesterday was uneventful. Went shopping with Robs. Filled up the freezer and overbought shit again so they had a kind of massive and wholly mismatched dinner with the leftovers nearly popping open the fridge door. Can’t take the Midwesterner out of the man or woman, apparently.
Definitely nothing like the day this poor soul on a maybe-less-dead-than-presumed website had had. But Steve won’t pretend his heart doesn’t clench a little when he finishes reading because…it’s cheesy.
But Steve’s always been into that romantic…stuff.
“That’s very sweet,” he lands on commenting before passing the tablet back to Robin, who’s staring at him with frankly terrifying eyes. Like: lost-your-fucking-mind eyes.
“Steven.”
“What?”
“Steven.”
“Robin.”
He won’t even pretend he doesn’t jump with the metal slams on the wood where Robin narrowly misses flipping his bowl of sadly-abandoned oats with her iPad again when she slaps it down in from of him and points frantically yet again.
“Look at the location.”
Steve tilts his head.
Oh. He’d just looked at the time. And it’s not like the location in the title was…unique on its own.
“Huh,” he huffs with a shrug when he sees their part of the city listed in the main link up top. “Coinkydink.”
Robin’s growl starts deep, like a diaphragmatic thrum and Steve would be terrified of her if she were anyone else.
As it is: he’s only mildly unsettled. Specifically because the growl rumbles so…long.
Like at least a minute before she screams bloody fucking murder:
“My hair was in the buns!”
And the way she screeches it, and the maniacal twitch of those eyes…she’s saying more than those words, with those words.
Which means Steve has to put in effort to follow her coded message style of communicating, fucking hell. He hasn’t even eaten his breakfast.
He tries to think it through, at least manages to down his glass of OJ so it can’t be a sacrifice to flying iPads when he thinks he…
“Wait.”
Steve frowns. Robin just blinks.
“You don’t,” he shakes his head, or starts to, it’s a slow motion thing; “you don’t like honestly think,” but even as he’s saying it, the look in her eyes starts to make sense, and answers for him:
“This is not about me.”
Because: seriously.
“We were laughing!” Robin is immediate with her rebuttal, still in her screeching era. “No one else was there!”
“Because we specifically time our shopping for when people are at lunch on a weekday,” Steve counters quick, tries to cut her off at the pass; “a statistically slow window of opportunity for us to debate the list!”
“We write the list to avoid debating,” Robin answers in a more sedate, be reasonable now, dingus tone before she shakes her head and scowls and:
“Stop distracting me!”
Yep, back to the screeching.
“Why were you even on that fucking site?” Steve sighs as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.
“Steven,” Robin says again in that fucking tone that always means he’s missing the biggest, far-more-important point but does jack shit to help him find it.
“Robina.”
“Not my name, eww.”
“Well, now you know how I feel when you make up a middle name for me,” Steve sticks his tongue out very maturely to her scrunched up face: “they’re never even nice ones,” he adds, because they’re really not; “and I do know that was your next move so,” he smacks his hands opposite the screen on the table in front of him in victory as he crows:
“Denied.”
“This isn’t basketball,” Robin’s working her tongue around her lips inside her mouth, which is always deadly foreshadowing; “you didn’t block my shot or whatever—“
“Didn’t I?” Steve pushes because, well, one, he did, and two, the original conversation was absurd even for them.
“Maybe it was so empty because his security was there.”
Steve frowns. The tone’s too…even. No. No: too haughty.
“The fuck does that mean?”
“I said he looked like a rockstar,” she leans to grab back her tablet and poke near the top, obviously switching browser tabs: “so I did some digging.”
“Robin, what city do we live in?” Steve asks as she works, because yes, Steve remembers seeing a very hot fucking dude staring less in their direction than looking dumbstruck-lost as hell, and he’d considered walking over to ask if he needed help—Midwestern transplant to the bone—which was accompanied by the stray I’d fuck that gorgeous toothpick silly, but in the paper product aisle, like on the 48-count pack of Charmin, he looks soft under all that leather—then both thoughts were swiftly abandoned when the toothpick’s eyes met Steve’s and Steve maybe had to force himself to finish laughing at a joke he can’t remember now, that Robin told, because his skin felt like it was burning a little except the sun had poked behind a cloud, and his throat, it had like, it had just, it—
It just felt…weird.
He does remember that.
“But we don’t see rockstars every day,” which is fair, their neighborhood in particular is less music biz than others.
“Plus, look at this!”
Then she’s shoving the iPad back in front of Steve: it’s a TMZ shot or some other pap photo that’s more than half blur. It is indeed the parking lot at their Costco. And it does…feature a toothpick-esque figure looking similar to the one Steve remembers, but it’s more from the back than the side. And like, anyone can wear that much black in the summer. It’s a free country.
“And look at him!”
She split-screens to a Wikipedia article about a band even Steve’s heard of, if not for listening to them himself. It…he glances at the paparazzi shot.
Lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin Sighted Getting Groceries Just Like Normal People in Mar—
And then he looks back to the wiki: okay. Same band name. The guy with the guitar in the photo looks…
He has the same hair.
“Don’t tell me it’s just coincidence.”
Steve rolls his eyes.
“It is just coincidence.”
“Steve.”
Steve feels his face sour.
“I know that tone,” because he does. It never leads to things he enjoys.
“You’ve thought about him.”
“He was gorgeous,” Steve thinks he surprises her with his honesty but like, what does he have to gain by lying? Plus:
“LA’s is like the plastic surgery capital of the fucking world, it’d be kinda sad if a lot of people generally weren’t pretty.”
“He wasn’t that kind of pretty.”
And fuck if they don’t share a brain cell; fuck if she doesn’t see right through him.
“And that’s not why you’ve been thinking about him.”
And fuck if she doesn’t know Steve, far too well.
“I never once said I’d been thinking about,” he hears the words and knows they’re weak, goddamnit.
“You never had to,” Robin smiles a little and taps an annoying finger at the screen again, that’a somehow flipped right back to the Craigslist ad thingy.
And she’s actually not entirely right, because he hadn’t thought much about the gorgeous toothpick man with curls Steve wanted to be smothered by, suffocate in like a pillow. But when he did?
He’d thought most about how he looked soft, on the inside. Thought wild and idiotic things like maybe his soft could match Steve’s soft when no one else’s ever had and he was always left bruised for it, more than once near-unhealable, and maybe they could, like, if their softnesses matched, then like—
Something.
But Steve always comes on too strong, wants too much, hopes to hard and way too fast, though this shit might take the cake, there: so it was idiotic and he’d left that train of thought to derail on its own and—
Did that come on too strong?
His gaze snags on the words, those exact words up on the screen and he’s very tempted to start growling deep in the pit of his stomach, take a cue from Robin’s absurdity.
“Don’t you have a class to get to?” Steve asks, looking pointedly at the clock on the microwave: he knows she does. Pottery making. For self-edification.
She scowls but looks—swears colorfully because it’s later than she thought as she jumps up and goes to presumably…do whatever she does in the bathroom to get ready to leave and look her lesbian-luring best before she gets smattered in wet clay.
Steve remains unclear on whether that look’s more or less attractive to the specific ladies she’s trying to bait.
Either way: it prompts Robin to drop her one-woman campaign insisting Steve’s soulmate of the romantic flavor is calling our desperately into the void of the internet. But it also, however, has the…side-effect of making the time itself an obvious thing. 11:09.
Rob’s gonna take the car, she’s got…supplies and stuff.
Why that’s important is…lost on him.
He could debase himself and brave the bus, if he got off at Washington and—
What the fuck.
What. The. Fuck.
Steve very forcefully shoves Robin’s iPad back across the table and doesn’t think about anything, especially not the numbers, like the number 214, like two hours and fourteen minutes until—
Steve nearly chokes himself on his fucking spoon with how violently he shoves it, full of oats, between his lips. As if he can shut his brain up as easy as he can his mouth.
It…actually kinda works. He might have chipped a tooth.
——————
In the end, Steve is proud of himself for being reasonable and having standards. He doesn’t take a fucking bus to meet a stranger in a Costco parking lot, Jesus Christ. Come on.
He books an Uber.
(And yes, he and Robin agreed no solo Ubers for a month to save up to have the air conditioner looked at before it copped out on them because their landlord only gave a shit if it was dead-dead and yes, maybe she’d gone so far as to put their account on a hold you had to call and remove to avoid temptation—though of the two of them, she definitely had the bigger problem—but little did she think on the fact that while you had to link a phone number, you could just use Google Voice and make a new account and no, Steve’s not insane, or a hopeless romantic, or almost-asking-for-heartbreak-on-the-regular, thank you very much.
He is resourceful. And it’s only like $15 with tip. It’s a quick ride.)
He asks to be dropped near the back of the lot, and takes the walk up slow. Almost goes the long way, straight into the store. Almost turns back entirely.
But then he sees those curls.
And his throat does the…the weird tight thing for no fucking reason, and his feet don’t ask permission to walk in the direction of the man standing…less dumbstruck, now. Even from the back it’s clear.
Now: he’s waiting.
Steve can barely breathe, can’t fucking swallow for the state of his throat, but his feet still aren’t waiting for permission, so it’s only fucking seconds before he’s close enough to catch a whiff of cologne and then—
“Sorry,” Steve ducks around the man from behind and reaches out automatically to steady him when he startles. “Hey, sorry, you just looked like maybe you were looking for something?” Steve smiles as open, as reassuring as he knows. “Just wanted to check if you needed any help.”
Keep it casual, Steve, keep it fucking friendly and extra polite and—
“Oh my god.”
The guy barely breathes it out, his eyes so wide, and Steve doesn’t know why he hasn’t moved his hand from the guy’s arm but Steve can feel the electric current that runs through him, like the finest grade of trembling. And electricity, right, it travels. Conducts.
In case you felt your heart skip just one beat, didn’t even have to full-on stop—
And even that proximity to this man is nothing compared to hearing his voice, low and a little syrupy even as he stares in shock, in disbelief—and oh. Oh, but what was it the guy had written in his post? About feeling the earth move a little, or like, rewiring your cells just for meeting eyes?
Steve, he’s…
Yeah. Yeah.
Okay.
“You’re here.”
Steve blinks, rocked back to the moment to deal with the new tilt of the globe and the spontaneous realignment of his insides later. This guy’s looking at Steve like he’s unbelievable, like he’s miraculous, like he’s…
Sunshine.
“I’m here?” Steve asks, a little breathy, a little curious.
“I,” the guy swallows, lips shiny as he bites at them, fucking adorable; “I saw you, umm, yesterday and I maybe, well, possibly I wrote some,” he fumbles and sounds like he’s building up to eventual hysterics, so Steve acts wholly on instinct and reaches further now to catch at both his hands.
“Relax,” Steve breathes out with a smile, and doesn’t overthink smoothing his thumbs over the guy’s knuckles, just in case it soothes him.
“My friend,” Steve lets go with one hand and grabs his phone to show the page he’d loaded on the ride here; “she was convinced it was you, about me. I wasn’t, so,” he shakes his head quick when something falls in the guy’s face, something dims: oh, umm, no.
He cannot have that.
“Not trying to catch you out or something,” Steve exhales it warm, as reassuring as he can, with his whole chest as he grabs the guy’s hands in both his own again—since he seemed to not mind; “just,” and Steve shrugs even as he smiles a little, less self-deprecating with it than he’d probably have landed on if the guy hadn’t reacted to Steve’s hands on his by clinging back so tight:
“Just a little hard to believe, is all.”
The man barely lets the words settle before his jaw drops almost comically and he demands, high-pitched and somehow still rumbling, something commanding in it nonetheless:
“How?”
Like it’s unimaginable. Like Steve reading that post and walking into this lot and striding up to a perfect stranger—who may or may not be very famous but that’s actually not even a little bit of the point—but a stranger who would want to see him—
But then Steve’s meeting the guy’s eyes again; hadn’t wholly realized he’d been staring at their hands more than anything. Those eyes are like the night sky, swirling and endless and sparking in the right slant of light, and Steve feels them like a welcome, like a cushion of the stars, like a safe landing in a chaotic universe.
He doesn’t even know this man.
But he thinks…yesterday. Yesterday, his heart didn’t stop, not like this guy had written, but Steve understands now what it did do instead, the thing he did remember, the tightness in his throat: his heart didn’t stop.
It just surged upward and took up residence to pound at his trachea where it tripped instead. Which is kinda where he’s back to right now.
“Could I,” the guy’s voice is rough, shaky, and so is he, Steve feels it where he’s still got his hand gripped firm; “would it be too much to ask if I could hug you?”
And he huffs a breath, and it sounds too….too small, like he’s afraid or ashamed and it pings something hateful, but so much more protective in Steve’s blood just to hear it as he confesses on a end of an exhale:
“I just want to know if you’re real.”
And Steve didn’t grow up a hugger, but he sure as shit’s grown into one; he’d be one of those people standing in the city with a ‘Free Hugs’ sign without much convincing. But this guy.
This man in front of him who may or may not be famous, is definitely a stranger either way save that he poured out some lines on the internet that maybe exceeded the term ‘heartfelt’ by a mile, who may or may not be standing in here, inside this moment, for something like fate because…Steve did feel it.
Maybe he didn’t think twice about the immensity it could have, not in the moment, because he’d been shopping, and Robin’s story was funny and maybe he was just struck by his luck in living a life with his platonic soulmate and knowing joy; surely your heart can trip for that and just because it never had before, just because it did this one first time when he crossed eyes with a genuinely beautiful man who left Steve with half-a-second’s certainty that looking any longer would flay wide this unknown person’s soul for Steve to sift through: but Steve felt things like that easy, always had. Romanticized nothings like it was a profession.
But it never hit like this had, has—is—before, if indeed this is actually anything—
And Steve’s heart is still tripping but it’s back in his chest, and he knows it because where he’s pressed against this guy’s kinda-gasping chest, now, close and tight? Maybe Steve’s never paid attention before, or maybe Steve’s just never…touched like this before, even if all they’re doing is hugging in a fucking parking lot.
But.
He’s pressed there and his heart’s tripping in his chest and he knows it wholly and fully because he can feel this man’s heartbeat next to his own—and where it should be a battle, because it’s pounding, both of them are, one side literally against the other?
It feels like a caress. It feels like, like…
Steve closes his eyes tight because they start to sting with the single word it feels like: impossible, absurd, but…
Here he is. He’s never felt someone’s heartbeat pressed up against his own before. Definitely never felt—never dreamt—that it could feel like it fits.
He leans back when he thinks he’s got a hold on the hopelessness of his tender-hearted absurdity, but the guy is staring at him already when he does and suddenly Steve’s got a handle on absolutely nothing except his pulse jackrabbiting some more but then also feeling…like it lost something. Like it’s not complete.
And the man, he’s staring with those eyes so wide again but now it’s like he’s…it’s kinda like he knows. He knows his eyes are going to let Steve flay him wide open.
It’s like he’s begging Steve to…look. To look and less to take, and more to…have.
Maybe, maybe to keep?
And…how?
“Do you feel it?” the guy whispers, those deep dark eyes so big: just these vulnerable, bleeding hearts on main. “Even just—“ he tries to walk back, to open it all up wider, desperate and hopeful and Steve hears all of it because it’s all written in the same key as all that Steve knows, all that Steve is. Somehow.
Somehow.
So Steve blinks, too many times before he grabs the man harder and drags him in again to hold, hold, hold until the heartbeat on either side of Steve’s ribs is reaching for the other, touching. Until they’re holding on, too, and once they do, then he can whisper, warm and maybe wet in the crook of this man’s neck, this stranger who’s holding onto his heart now, unfathomable, as he speaks words he doesn’t have to think about first to know they’re going to shift the world again, this time so they both can know it in the souls of them together, all at once:
“I feel it.”
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For @hbyrde36, who requested 'Missed Connection AU' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST
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✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth
divider credits here and here
💫 ao3 link here
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adora-but-ginger · 1 day
Text
Femininomenon
pairing: emily prentiss x gender neutral reader
synopsis: two undercover agents with old flames still burning, reunited once again
warnings: undercover talk, swearing, references to sex so mdni, french words, alcoholic settings (though none is consumed)
main masterlist
the rise and fall of a midwestern princess masterlist
word count: ~2.3k
a/n: OH MAN am i excited for this series!! this is my first time writing for emily, and i am really proud of this one! the order of this series won't necessairly follow the album order, but the beginning to both will be femininomenon. i would love to hear your thoughts, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! also side note i saw chappell live and it changed something in me.
do not steal or repost my work. reblogs, however, are greatly appreciated!
not proofread whoopsie daises
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credit to gif owner!
"Dude, can you play a song with a fucking beat?"
The music was loud, obnoxious, and not even good. Your mind was still racked with the events of the past 72 hours, and you never went to places like this before. A "welcome back/so long" party they said. You did not agree to this, but out of leaving on civil terms, you begrudgingly said you'd attend. It was for you after all.
That being said, the DJ they hired was not that good. You were irritated, it was hot and stuffy here, and you just wanted some sleep. If they were going to play music here, at least make it good.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. What do you want on the queue?"
You couldn't even think of a song name. You had been so out of touch with the present world these past years that you were completely out of the loop on the world's current music taste. Someone next to you recommended one before patting you on the shoulder, and that movement almost made you snap.
This was stupid. Stupid, useless, and a waste of time and money.
The "you're alive and back!" banner was starting to fall, and your irritation was becoming overwhelming. Since when did they even do this sort of thing? You took a deep breath. You were gone for eight years, longer than most stings. Plus, you were switching departments soon anyway, and you supposed that this was the first celebration the team had had in a while. Let them have it, part of you conceded. Fifteen more minutes, then you could leave, you convinced yourself. Fifteen minutes and then--
"Well if it isn't the guest of honor."
You knew that voice. How did you know that voice?
You were still trying to remember how your friends and colleagues looked and talked--a feat harder than you'd like to admit. Whatever song the person had requested was thrumming through the air now, the beat running through you.
You could hear your name being hummed, and you did a 180 to face them.
Emily Prentiss.
How could you have forgotten that voice? You eyed your drink, suddenly wishing it was much stronger than the sprite you currently carried.
"You look a whole lot different since I saw you last." She glanced over you, noticing the weathered changes that came with eight years undercover.
"I guess I'm still trying to figure out who I am again." An ironic chuckle accompanied your words. "Hey, Emily." You slightly raised your cup of soda in greeting, and she returned the same action. "A little birdie told me you switched from undercover?"
Oh man, this was not good. Thank god you knew how to regulate your expressions because your heart was practically escaping your chest. The last time you two had seen each other, you did much more than talk. It was truly a shame that you were called in immediately that next morning, that you knew she'd wake up to the sheets still warm (she was always a light sleeper), that you had a new case being brought to the table and you wouldn't know how long you'd be gone for. A week? A month? Half a year? A whole one?
You definitely did not expect it to be eight years.
What was she doing now? Was she with someone? Was she married? Did she have kids? Did she--"You're doing that thing again, you know."
Your eyes snapped to hers. "What thing?"
The song changed, and you really did not want to be attending this party right now. Even if Emily was here. "The thing where you ruminate into your own world?" She clocked the look in your eyes and nodded to the front doors.
Maybe it was a little rude to leave the main event without saying goodbye, but you did not want to be there any longer, and you getting really overwhelmed. You nodded in agreement and she started to walk toward the refreshing outside air.
The chill greeted you as you approached the nearby picnic table, Emily sitting down across from you.
An awkward silence infiltrated the air.
"So, uh, long time no see?"
She shot you a look, eyebrows raised in a don't give me that manner.
"How are you doing with the assimilation? Any hiccups?"
Eight years--two-thousand nine hundred and twenty-six days. You'd been back for only three, and you couldn't remember how to live a normal life. You weren't assimilating at all.
"Yeah, it's been pretty good."
You could see pity in her eyes. "I don't know how you got this job. You can't lie for shit."
Speaking to her was making old, long-buried feelings crawl their way through the dirt and past the grave. A tension was forming, though not one of bad, more so the type comparable to that of smelling the rain before a storm.
"I just can't lie to you." You crossed your hands on the picnic table. "Never really could, I guess." You mumbled the second part, taking note of the party's noises and the crickets chirping behind you.
She let you talk, patiently drinking up the mere presence of you. She had practically sprinted from the jet upon hearing of your return, memories of you two flooding the gates she had long since locked away.
You were gone for nearly a decade and your social skills were currently in the toilet. It had to mean something that Emily came tonight, right? Not a lot of people knew of you, much less the importance of your return, and as far as you knew word didn't leave the office of this party.
Yet here she was, dressed in her day clothes, nursing a water as she stared at you as if you were not real.
You wanted to tell her everything, what you did, where you went, who you had dealt with the past almost decade, the way her lips still caressed your mind, how the ghost of a possible future kept you was the lamp that led you through the darkness.
You had so much to say, yet you could only get two words out.
"I'm sorry."
That caught her a little off guard. "What are you sorry for?"
You let the evening breeze wrap around you for a moment before speaking. "For leaving without saying goodbye. For finally making a move just to go off the grid. It was long ago, I know, but I felt--feel so horrible that I left you there that morning without even a quick see you tonight letter by your coffee."
She didn't respond, which made that feeling in your gut go even deeper. The evening breeze ran in between you, speaking words you could only wish to say.
It wasn't until her cup was almost empty that she responded.
"Don't sweat it too much. I got called into a case not too long after, was stuck in that for a while too. Seriously, it happened, and there's no bad blood between the two of us."
People were starting to leave the party in the distance, and a wave of relief washed over you. Now you could leave, go back to the sanctioned hotel room you were assigned to until your belongings were recovered and you could find a place to live. It was a shitty situation, sure, but it was a place to lay your head for right now.
"Well, it's getting late, and I'm really tired," a yawn overcame you, "I better get going. I start the new job in a few days, so I need to catch up on as much sleep as I can after the past week." You reached over the table and lightly squeezed her hand. "It was really nice to see you, Emily. Seriously."
She returned the gesture, her hand fitting as nicely in your own now as it did back then. "Of course. You didn't think I'd miss welcoming you back, did you?"
Your hands didn't separate, instead, she smiled as you shot a glance towards them. "Keep in touch, will you? It'd be really nice to reconnect."
A small smile grew on your face and you swiped your thumb over her knuckles. "I will, don't you worry. I don't have my own phone yet, but if you want to give me your number I'll put it in the moment I get one."
You knew she would tease you the second the offer left your lips. "You want my number, huh? Think I'm cute or something?"
A laugh emitted from you, god you forgot how much you missed her. The anxious side of you made you question whether you should be flirty at all with her-- she probably already had a significant other, and there was a slim shot that even if she didn't, you could relight the kindling that was your--whatever it was you two had going on.
Couldn't hurt to test the waters though.
"I think you're alluring, gorgeous, and undeniably charming." You lowered your tone to a whisper as you spoke, leaning over the table. "Not just cute."
She shot a glance at your lips that did not go unnoticed, and you licked them in response.
"Oh, dearest, you're going to make me blush if you keep on talking like that."
"You? blush? These years really have changed you Em." You had to make sure she was single before you continued any further. "Are you seeing anyone these days?"
Hands still interlocked, she gave another squeeze. "You've had my heart since we walked in together as fresh meat ten years ago. You've plagued my every dream for thousands of days--you are the only one my eyes have landed on and will ever."
Slightly shocked at her confession, your mouth dropped partially agape. "Still as bold as ever-which is a good thing-I see. Since when did you become a romantic?" You nodded toward the car you took to get here, and she nodded in understanding.
"Since I found out you were one: still alive, and two: not undercover anymore." You took a minute to observe her as you stood. Black shirt with a flat neckline, dress pants, and hair slightly curled outwards at the end. Still breathtaking as ever. Age had found her face, as it did you, and it made her even more stunning.
"Want to come to my place? I have an extra room if you want." She thought for a second. "Oh, I do have one man in my life." Shock rushed through you, mixed with a tinge of jealousy, and she laughed at your expression. Laughed. A sound that reminded you of a perfect melody. "His name is Sergio, and he's the sneakiest cat you'll ever meet. I love him to dear pieces."
You were speechless, resulting in even more laughter from the raven-haired woman at your side. "You're something else, you know that?"
"I'm sure he'll love you."
She gave you her address ad you got into your vehicle. With a wink and a slap on the door, she was off to her own.
--
You were going to fucking lose it.
It was five years into this mission, and at this point, you didn't know if it would ever end. The layer of domesticity that formed between you and him was so enforced that you had to remind yourself every night that this was your job, and that once you were able to get his company destroyed, things would smooth out.
And you would be able to quit this line of work.
You loved it, you truly did, at first. You were good at what you did, and it made you the best candidate for this operation. That being said, you did not expect to still be living this case. For one, you didn't date men (or have ever been attracted to them.) Yet here you were, legally married to the guy running the upper half of France. It irked you because he had a really sweet sister who under different circumstances you would've loved to be friends with.
There wasn't much left to do today, and the sun was starting to set. You had sent the cleaning person home early; you always did. They liked you because you actually got to know each them, and you still had them paid for the hour or two they missed. This was one of the only chances you had to take a deep breath and do a little reset, remembering why you were here and what you were doing.
You were an outstanding undercover agent. You were coming back to for Emily.
You had repeated that mantra for the past five years, the sentence serving as a tether when things got rough.
Stupid fresh linens that were never used twice. Stupid giant house with its giant gate and giant halls. Stupid--
"Où es-tu, mon amour?" Where are you, my love?
There he was, and there duty called.
"Je serai là!" I'll be right there!
Once her name had infiltrated your mind, she enveloped it. Does Emily still even remember you? Is she still alive? Does she still care?
You were doing this for her. And if that meant you had to wait a few more years, then so be it. She was your solace, your grounding rock.
"Mon amour?" my love?
"En chemin!" on my way!
Until you were able to hold her in your arms again, you could only hope that things worked out.
Emily rubbed a soothing hand over your back as you softly fell asleep, body entangled with hers. She knew within a second that there was no chance you'd be sleeping in separate beds. Plus, you needed a sense of comfort, a familiar face, and that's what she was. She never had anyone to pick her back up after Doyle, so she would be that person for you.
It was odd, having you back. It was going to take a while to get everything situated and in a groove, but she was willing to walk that path with you.
She always thought it was the same old story with her previous relationships, but then you came along.
And god damn, did she love you.
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hollyhomburg · 1 day
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt.71)
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(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Freedom isn't always a good thing... sometimes stupid pups get in trouble.
Tags: slight angst, lying, implied psychopath Jin, Confirmed autistic Jimin, discussion of murder and killing others, Jimin and Jin both have dubious morality, needy m/c, Frottage, Teasing, Knotting, knot-fucking, desperate sex, messiness kink, (slight) pleasure dom hobi 👀, public sex, riding, squirting, car sex
W/c: 9.0k
A/n: it's kinda crazy that this chapter, last chapter, and next chapter was supposed to be a single chapter (it would have been over 30k), this one is my least favorite out of the bunch! please give it a bunch of love when it comes out though 🥺 if you don't love it i'll be sad!
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
You drive, and instead of returning your hands to the center console Hobi’s hand creeps, settling on your knee. Your jeans have rips in them, a courting gift from tae who claimed they were cute (the pockets on the back are heart shaped). Hobi hooks his finger into the biggest one on your upper thigh, stroking the skin higher and higher. You go still, look down, and watch his hands rub smooth circles on your inner thigh. They go no higher.
Hoseok has very pretty hands.
A heat creeps up the back of your neck as Hobi keeps his eyes on the road and not on you. You try not to squirm, not to close your legs either. Although you know he'll be able to smell and feel your slick if he keeps it up for too long. You know your scent is swelling treacherously sweet, but you hope he won't comment- won't notice.
But when he pulls into the parking lot and the ocean is right there, turning dark green and a little violent at high tide. The air is stormy but sweet through the cracked windows. He turns to you, already smirking. The quirk of his lips teases and you realize he knows exactly what he's been doing to you this whole time.
You're already shoving his hand off of you, and he laughs at your flaming cheeks. "Oh my god shut up-"
"I didn't say anything."
"Oh, you little shit-" Hoseok grins.
"You're cute when you're flustered from being teased."
"Call me cute one more fucking-"
"Cute."
You put your head between your knees and actually scream. It's soft, not all that loud. Hoseok's laugh is louder as he throws his head back. and you regret ever making the mistake of falling in love with your best friend.
"Oh my god you are totally getting horny because of a car-"
"It's not the fucking car-" you whine, almost petulant.
"Oh, so it's me then?" The way Hoseok raises his eyebrow at you makes you want to scream. The smirk that has your omegan instincts rankled back on his stupidly pretty face.
"And if it is?"
Hoseok grins, reaching over to cup your cheek in his hand. Pinching the sides so that your lips push out. holding you hard so that you can't squirm away.
"Then c'm here."
There are other things that you both crave beyond sugar and sweets. kisses that turn into giggles. Hoseok's lips move, good and gentle for a second. Exactly what you need, what you've been craving.
And then he bites your lower lip.
It smells like gasoline and sea salt and blood when you pull apart. rubbing at your stinging lip, a little angry. You're not bleeding, but it feels like you could be. A Hoseok shaped space over your heart, wrenched clean, bleeding because where he sits is so far. If the distance and wanting could make you bleed- you would be.
(Hoseok bit you to keep you close, because for a second, it felt like you were about to pull back. His alpha didn't like that.)
You bristle, an omega that needs settling. Hoseok almost wants to bare his teeth at how on edge it makes him. You smell so needy. sticky sweet the way that Jungkook does sometimes. Hoseok's half surprised that the other omega didn't get to you before he did.
You flush hot. Half anger, half wanting. "Bitch-"
Hoseok reaches down between his legs for the lever under the seat to push it back. He pushes his seat away from the steering wheel and makes room for you. He parts his legs wide and gestures to his lap.
"I said come here."
Coming Saturday, June 8th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)
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cutiehypnocow · 3 days
Note
It looks like you dropped already~ Did you forget you were supposed to be resisting trance? I guess it doesn't matter anymore since you already dropped for anons. It'll be fun to hear your reaction after you realize you lost, at least.
You make a really convincing bimbo when you drop, by the way. You repeat your mantra so obediently while your mind goes blank, as if you were already dumbed down. I bet you surrendered to your breasts and aheago'd too, didn't you?
It couldn't be helped, though, with how heavy and weighted your mind is. When you're told to go blank and drop for your breasts, it just fills your mind up fully.
That was a really hot mantra too, wasn't it? Just one was enough to make you turn all hot and horny for your breasts again.
Repeating I am a mindless good girl over and over, as if you came up with it. Didn't it feel so good having your mind go blank like that? So good I bet you'll want to fall again after reading all of this.
All it would take is for you to focus on how weighted and heavy your breasts are now, how warm and full of milk they are. It just makes you want to rub them to ease the feeling. You should repeat that mantra you were given another 10 times, but this time, grope yourself deeper like a bimbo.
"I am a mindless good girl."
I mean I didn't drop lol I just typed fast! what's ten more though, huh?
i am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
I am a mindless good girl
still awake, huh? 💕
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Text
Kiss, Maime, Kill Chapter 7: The Radio Demon
Pairing: Alastor X killer! F Reader
Warnings!!: continuation of angst lol but it's almost over
Wordcount: 0.95k
2 things: number one, this was supposed to be the final chapter but it got long so I split it, number two, sorry for the delay it's still exam season </3
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1935
Pentagram City, Pride Ring
Searching across an entire ring of hell for a singular sinner was easier said than done. It was like painstakingly filtering through a spindly hay bale for a singular needle, tearing apart the masses in desparate hope of finding what you needed.
You had spent the past week since falling at fate's mercy, but at every moment of utter despair memories of Alastor spurred you on. It was at these times of loneliness that you reminisced of his absence whilst broadcasting, the solitude filled by his soothing voice filtering through the radio.
Sighing, you sat up from the mangy sofa in the basement you had managed to swindle for a month or two whilst you searched for Al (and in the process a more permanent residency). Tired and wholeheartedly worn out, you flopped into the wooden chair beside a chipped, stained desk, pressing play on the radio and resting your head in your hands. Hot, burning tears began to stream down your cheeks at the news reporter's cheery voice. It had no hint of the transatlantic accent you adored so much, nor did it carry any of Alastor's way of speaking. Shaking, you began to feel your anger, heartbreak and frustration bubbling like a pan that had spent too long at the stove.
Bubbling over.
A harsh growl of rage escaped your throat as you picked up the clunky, mahogany radio and heaved it at the wall before pounding it with your fists, leaving your knuckles sore and bleeding. The news reporter's voice drowned out until you were left in a silence broken only by sobs.
Sliding to the floor with your back against the wall, you covered your face with your bleeding hands, immobilised by grief. Scattered radio rubble littered the floor around you. The heavy, boxy shape remained mostly intact due to its stature, leaving only the dials scattered across the dusty wooden floor. Sniffling, you wiped your nose, not even bothering to disguise the tears or mascara staining your face as they continued to fall freely. Now you needed to get a new fucking radio. Not to mention the giant, gaping hole in the bloody (channeling Simon Armitage with this double meaning of bloody HA) wall thanks to your frustrated aggression.
"Fuck it, it's tomorrow's problem." You grumbled, stumbling over to the couch and flopping back down with an "uff", arm stretched over your weary eyes. You didn't remember exactly when sleep overtook, but it was neither peaceful nor refreshing.
Lifting your arm, you glanced at your watch. 11am. You'd overslept, not that it mattered anyway. Alastor, ever the early riser, would have gently scolded you for wasting such a promising morning, but he wasn't fucking here. Through bleary eyes you were greeted with the sight of the broken radio, another hefty weight added to the emotional load you were carrying. Burying your dread, you decided to try and focus on the problem at hand. It was a simple enough venture, travel to any decent shop in the city, pick up the cheapest radio to replace the one you broke (as it wasn't actually yours to begin with but instead belonged to those lending you the basement - you would have been glad to be rid of the thing), then wallow in self pity for the rest of eternity. Easy.
So easy in fact that you flopped back down, staring into space for another solid half hour. Then 3/4s of an hour. Then a full hour. Then you got up.
You didn't bother to change, this was hell: nobody gave two shits what you were wearing, nor was it anyone's business. The paved streets were rife with crime and danger, any ordinary person would be terrified. But it didn't bother you, nothing much did anymore. Empty eyes scanned over a few shop windows, nothing of interest present. You could hardly afford to replace the cathedral radio, you had to kill to pay rent, but a few coins jostled in your pocket as you walked. At least this wasn't the greed ring (not that you felt much at home in pride, considering you were so very lacking).
Window-shopping proved to be futile, and was getting you absolutely nowhere. You would have to actually go in to the shops, which you would prefer to avoid doing truthfully. But it wasn't exactly your choice as you really didn't want to be booted out and back onto the streets. Summoning strength with a deep inhale, you pushed open the door of a gadget's store, the little bell chiming as you entered.
You made your way over to the counter, mentally preparing for your first social interaction in days. Fiddling with the coins in your pocket your fingers traced over the imprint of Mammon's face as you began to mentally rehearse "do you sell radios??"
Just as you strung together a frail string of confidence, an earsplitting, piercing scream sounded from seemingly some kind of radio, given the static. How convenient. Or it would have been, at least if the anguished howling wasn't so incredibly loud and disturbing. Prolific serial killer you may be, but that didn't mean you delighted in an unknown sinner's pain. You were starting to live up to your surname. Speaking of Altruists, you missed your partner in crime. But, just as you were about to leave the shop, a certain Mid-Atlantic voice just so happened to filter over the anguished torment.
"Greetings, dear sinners!"
You froze like (get ready for it) a deer in the headlights. (DUDUDUDUDUUU)
The sound of his voice sent chills wracking your body and adrenaline pumping through your veins.
Alastor.
You were going to find him after all.
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donuts4evry1 · 2 years
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Happy belated birthday from the East Coast! I hope it was wonderful! ♡
😳😳😳😳😳😳😳!!! It definitely was, ty :))
!!!!!!
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nihilismtrcit · 1 year
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introducing...eden louise “edie lou” ferraro 
gen 1: aries for the another zodiac legacy challenge by @acuar-io
since childhood, seeking out attention was a constant in eden louise ferraro’s life. her parents didn’t engage with her, rarely made her feel wanted. so she became the type of person who would seek out any attention, positive or negative. she’s a needy girl with an almost pathological desire to be noticed. of course, her hot-headed temper and mean attitude (that especially rears its head when eden feels vulnerable) make it difficult to maintain friendships, let alone romantic relationships. 
after making the move from sandy oasis springs to the spice district of san myshuno, eden decided she’d get the attention she so desperately craved by any means necessary. now an internet personality with aspirations of becoming fabulously wealthy, eden louise - self nicknamed edie lou - spends her days: 
trying to turn her social media career into fortune
cuddling and dressing up her bby chihuahua, clover (bites)
gaming, streaming, vlogging
keeping it tight to flex on social media 
seeking out validation in the form of romantic relationships and/or money
&& generally oscillating between being an overly attached lover and a messy gal ;)
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lucifer · 7 months
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I’ve legitimately had a rotten day today. :(
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tiredbiostudent · 2 years
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august!
#got a new tent and I’m in love😭#I’m going backpacking next week and I’m SO pumped even if it’s supposed to be thunderstorming the first two days 😩 lol#life update is that I’ve mostly just been trying to organize my life after being gone for work for like 3 months#and I’m practicing driving a lot bc my test is at the end of the month😭 it’s going better than I thought but still stressful#also going to college in the fall and still not sure how to feel about it LMAO#i think I’m just worried I’m not gonna make any friends the entire year and I’m gonna hate it and have the program be a waste of time#I’m sure it’ll be fine?🥴#and I’m STILL contemplating about doing a masters shdhdhdg#bc ok I loved the job I had this summer and would happily do contract field bio jobs for the rest of my life but unfortunately it’s not very#stable and doesn’t pay super well so at some point I’m going to need to get a more formal job which I might need an MSc for :/ we’ll see#the idea of research and /being/ a grad student is so appealing but then I think about the actual work I’d have to do and it’s like um my#i always feel like shit in august and am so yugh because it’s friggen hot and there’s nothing to do and I have definitely been feeling that#(also because I miss work and being up north)#but I just scrolled through my ‘insp’ instagram saved posts and Pinterest board and am acc feeling good today hshdhdgxhd#like you know when you’re just excited about life 🥰✨ hehe#omg sorry for this I guess I just needed to dump my thoughts out onto the ground for everyone#mine
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wettyres · 2 years
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sewis as retirees doing ROC (winter)
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trashbaget · 9 months
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i feel so fucking ILL!!!
#i’ve been sick for days and every day is a new horror#i’m like 93% sure it’s covid bc this’ll be like the third time i’ve had it and i clocked that shit immediately#i’ve been having the symptoms in randomass order and i’ve got the worst of them today for one of the filthy hot days#it is so fucked up that it’s been 80 fuckin degrees two days in a row before fall starts#it’s SUPPOSED to cool down a liiitle bit tomorrow but these temp predictions have been frighteningly short so i have low expectations on tha#but anyway today i’ve got the overheated hot melting fever feeling and mind numbing nausea#granted these two things are definitely probably partly a Today Problem and partly My Doing#in that it’s been (as mentioned) 80 hot today but also j haven’t eaten much and took…..waayyy too much medicine on what i forgot was an empt#empty stomach…. but also i didn’t eat much because food made me wanna barf and that’s awful#plus i didn’t sleep at all last night and i have been severly undercaffeinated for days now (re: sick) so that definitely doesn’t help#woop woop gooooo sickness!!! wooo!! (lies. fuck the sickness. down with the sickness.)#on the bright side! the cough and chest congestion and toy story penguin wheezing have trailed off!!#my sinuses are still pretty hell but those only really started acting up yesterday#anyway!#wish me fucking luck sleeping tonight let’s pray i don’t overheat or choke on vomit tonight woot woot#a bitch speaks!
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gh0stlymoth · 2 years
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i cannot wait for autum/winter when it's cold enough again for me to put on my thick winterblanket and just be the coziest guy around
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ratcandy · 2 years
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i walk up to the podium . er. i limp up to the podium. i clear my throat and tap the mic. i announce “my ankle hurt” before nodding solemnly and taking my leave
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toriliashine · 2 years
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So glad i picked up love from outer soace bc even tho romance is pretty much optional. The story and the characters are so fun to be around.
Trying to romance jacob, ursula and miranda rn andbnsnssjjssjsn.
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fairy-angel222 · 1 month
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𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹
prisoner! sukuna x psychologist! reader
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✧ synopsis: you’ve been assigned to the supposed most ‘dangerous’ prisoner, sukuna. but what happens when you two start to fall for each other instead?
✧ cw: smut, quick paced, semi public sex, risky sex, choking, kissing, pussy eating, blow jobs, breeding, creampie, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, age gap
✧ wc: 4.7k
✧ a/n: i am not a doctor and i am especially not specialized in psychology. i have made up all of this. also don’t sleep with murderers unless it’s sukuna
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Your heels clicked loudly on the stained prison tiles. The echo of your soft footsteps trailing along the narrow walls of the enclosed hallway.
Sukuna.
That was the prisoner you were assigned to. A man who had killed more people than you’d met in your entire life as a doctor, a psychologist at that. So you’d met a lot of people.
Two guards trailed closely behind you, glaring warningly at the inmates who smirked as you walked past the line of cells. A collection of whistles and cheers sounding at the mere sight of a woman as attractive as yourself.
How long had it been since they’d seen one after all.
“Hey Doc… you sure you wanna take this case.. i mean, i don’t doubt ya or anything but this one.. he’s bad. Dangerous.”
“Now what kind of doctor would i be if i feared a little danger. He’s still a patient.” You smiled, ignoring the way your hairs stood as you were led deeper into the institution. The part where they held those deemed a danger to society.
Those who had a no chance of even seeing sunlight again.
You were nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest when you scanned your surroundings. There weren’t any cells. There were only.. rooms. Fully enclosed rooms with a singular window for passing food.
Every part of your being begged for you to turn around and run. To not even interact with whoever sat on the other side of that door. And you froze when bright red eyes pierced into yours. The rest of his face casted behind a dark shadow as his head tilted back. Giving you sight to the small smirk creeping onto his features.
“Doc, i really think that-” It was the other guard who spoke up. Both of them holding nothing on their features but fear. It was clear that they never even bothered with Sukuna. The rumors had been enough to make every guard turn a blind eye.
“Hey, it’s fine. Okay? This is what i do.” It really was. The guard gave you a curt nod and a sigh when you clasped both his hands in your smaller one. Offering him a reassuring nod.
“If anything happens, us and about five others are stationed close. Good luck Doc.”
You gave him a small thanks, your head held high as the door was pulled open roughly. Revealing a pink haired man who sat on his bed against the walls, his eyebrow raising when you dared to step inside. Nodding to the guard to close the door.
You might as well have been a dead woman.
“You’re scared.” His deep voice rung out, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled out a small chair that was tucked away near the sink.
“And how do you know, Sukuna?” Your tone was steady, letting out a breath when the shakiness you felt wasn’t reflected in your voice.
Sukuna hummed, his smirk widening when you spoke to him like a normal being. To stuttering, no harshness. Just your sweet voice saying his name. “I can smell it, Doc.” He loved the way you tried to hide your squirm under his gaze.
“So, Sukuna. Tell me something about yourself.” You steered away from his accusation, holding eye contact even when he leaned forward. Taking you in from head to toe. You were hot, he liked that. You seemed to like being confident too. And God did you smell fucking delicious.
He wanted to eat you alive.
Break you.
Use you.
He really did. But you were so fascinating, and he’d only just met you. Who knew how entertaining you could be.
“I’ve killed people.” He was blunt, eyes almost begging you to keep asking these ridiculous questions. It was making his cock twitch.
“Well Sukuna, that is common knowledge, don’t ya think? I wanna know something else.. tell me a secret hmm?” You leaned forward with a smile, elbows rested on your knees as you looked to him for a response.
He reciprocated your actions, leaning forward until you felt his hot breath fan over your face. “A secret huh? Alright Doc..” he watched as your breathing sped up, using every strength in your body to not pull back. You were brave, he liked that. “I surprisingly don’t wanna kill you right now.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“I said right now, didn’t say anything about later.” He pushed away from you, one of his knees up to his chest when he leaned back against the concrete wall behind him. “Let me ask you, Doctor. Are you stupid?”
Your head tilted at where this was going. You were supposed to be the one asking the questions. But a conversation was two sided, this would’ve made things easier. “I’d like to believe not. Why do you ask?”
“Because you really think that if i try to kill you, some measly guards would come to your rescue.” He scoffed.
“But you don’t want to kill me. That’s all that matters.”
Fair.
Sukuna watched as you took a quick peek down at his files. There was something that you missed, that much was evident. “Finally found it huh?”
“I haven’t found anything that i didn’t see before.” You objected, glancing to the door with your lip hanging loosely between your teeth.
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He demanded lowly, watching with lidded eyes as you let your plump bottom lip, slick after running your tongue over it, fall back into place. Sukuna breathed deeply, finally looking away from you as he swallowed hard. Closing his eyes with his head rested behind him.
There was something about you that he wanted a taste of. It was driving him crazy..er, “I never did anything to these other doctors. They were just weak. Got scared way too fast.”
“And what did you do to scare them away?”
“Nothing.” He spat, “They came in here acting all high and mighty, talked to me like i was beneath them. So i simply didn’t bother to hide how much i wanted to strangle them. And somehow that makes me the bad guy right Doc?”
You shook your head, “No, you have a right to respect too. They should never have treated you as unequals.” Lying was all in the job description.
“Good try Doc. But you and i both know that’s a load of crap.” He finally peeled his eyes back open, and you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to how attractive he was in the dim light. He was extremely built, and had the facial structure that made you clench your thighs. “Now, we gonna finish our game of twenty one questions or not?”
He was actually being cooperative.
“Yes we are. How about i start?”
“I’ll start.” There was no room for objection in his tone. “What’s your name?”
You contemplated whether to tell him or not, eventually letting it out with ease. Though you missed the small smile tugging at his lips when he muttered a small “cute.”
“My turn, what was your childhood like?” You watched his face grow cold, a small glare being directed at anything in the room but you. “Next question.”
“Sukuna..”
“I said next question. How old are you?”
You sighed, “I’m twenty eight.” His eyes widened, that was extremely young for a doctor. “Is there one good memory you have from before you killed for the first time?”
“I had twin kittens. Do you have a boyfriend?”
You were taken aback by the question, mouth opening and closing a few times before you chuckled. “No. I do not have a boyfriend.”
“Good.”
You jumped when the door was yanked open, the guard eyeing Sukuna warily before nodded to you. “Your time’s up, Doc.”
“Oh, already? Could we get just a few more minutes?”
“You know how dangerous he is Doc.. we can’t risk it.”
“You heard the man. I’m dangerous, Doctor.”
You nibbled at your lips softly, and Sukuna fought a groan as you did exactly what he warned you not to. Standing up, you gave Sukuna a warm smile, the gesture making his stomach get all weird inside. “Goodbye until our next session Sukuna.”
He only hummed, the door being shut behind you as you were led away.
It was back to darkness.
There was more than enough light, sure. But it suddenly felt so empty without you there.
You couldn’t keep Sukuna off your mind when you arrived home. A part of you just really wanted to figure him out. The other actually liked his company.
You must’ve been so sick in the head. Splashing your face with cold water as you mentally scolded yourself. What was wrong with you? He was a criminal.
The next morning you walked the path that you had taken the previous day to get to Sukuna. This time without the guards following you.
There was only one who stood outside of the door to let you in with a small nod of acknowledgement.
Sukuna’s head perked up at the familiar clicking of those heels you wore. His signature smirk on his face as he stared you down. “Just couldn’t get enough huh Doc? Aren’t you forgetting that i’m dangerous?”
You took a seat, no file in had this time. “Good morning Sukuna, how are you?”
“If i said better now that you’re here, would that be cliché?”
You laughed, an actual laugh. A sweet one that made his heart flutter the tiniest bit while blood rushed to his groin.
“It’s very good to see you too. How about we get started yeah?” You paused as you collected your thoughts. “You seem to be heavily affected by people calling you.. dangerous. Why?”
“Everybody is dangerous. It just takes pushing at the right buttons to get it out of them. Half of the people here have done just as bad as i have yet i’m the only dangerous one. Makes so much sense right?.”
He shook his head. “Tell me Doctor, do you really think i just happened to get caught? That i couldn’t get out of this damn place if i wanted too? Hell, tell me you realize that i could drop a good twenty more bodies right here, right now.”
You shifted in your seat. “I think that you let yourself get caught because you’re tired. Because there’s a small sense of peace you get from being in here. And i think that you aren’t trying to leave because you don’t want to.”
“You almost had it Doc. See, i was well on my way out until you came. So i might stick around for just a little bit longer.”
Your heart fluttered, for you? Giving up on fighting the rational side of you as you continued to engage in conversation. Getting Sukuna to slowly open up to you more.
“Do you have any friends Sukuna?”
“I don’t consider people friends. They just exist alongside me.”
“If I asked you to be your friend, what would you say?” It was routine, but you really were curious.
“I’d say you came be whatever you want to be Doc.”
Another flutter.
“Have you ever been in love Sukuna?”
He was silent, jaw clenching as his gaze got harsh. “Next question.”
“What was she like?”
“I said next fucking question Doctor.”
“And i said, what was she like?” You leaned forward, pressing for him to answer the question.
“You’re stubborn aren’t you? I wonder what my hand would loom like around that pretty little neck.” He grinned, sharp teeth peeling from beneath his lips as he brought his face to yours. “She was a lot like you.”
“What happened to her?” You knew how touchy that question would’ve been.
“Nothing. The bitch left.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry.”
He stared at you in confusion, “I never said she died.”
“Yes. But that’s only physically. When she broke your heart she died to you. And that hurts just as bad.”
He was silent, studying your eyes. Trying to get a read on you. “What else do you want to know Doc?”
You were getting somewhere.
Sukuna found you smart. Thought that you knew a lot. Found it hot how good you were at cracking him. But it pissed him off that the one thing you didn’t seem to pick up was how much it hurt to watch you leave at the end of each session.
A week later had led to a Monday morning where you hadn’t gone to the prison. You had quite an agenda for the day that could cost you your job if you didn’t get it done.
That was something Sukuna was obviously clueless about. It was why he thought you’d just decided to up and go after he had just started liking to have you around. After he’d started opening up to you.
It was also why he was causing a fit. Yelling at guards to get you to him now. That he wanted to see you. Needed to see you. A line of men laying knocked out atop each other from being sent to ‘handle’ the crazed prisoner.
Would you really not come back? Would you really abandon him? It seemed like that was common with the people he cared even the slightest for.
Sukuna’s fist met the wall near his bed, knuckles bloodied as he cracked into the hard surface. Chest heaving up and down heavily when his hands reached to tug at strands of pink.
He blinked when he heard the clicking of heels on the tiles. Immediately scowling at the unfamiliarity of them. “Who the fuck is this?” He growled through the small window.
“This is Dr Smith, she’s-”
“I don’t fucking care who she is. Bring me my doctor. Now.”
Back at your flat, you dropped the piles of paper in front of you at the sound of your phone ringing.
It was a number you didn’t have saved.
“Hello, Doctor ___ speaking- yes? Oh my. I- i am so sorry. Yes, i will be there right away.”
What had you done?
You practically ran through the halls after parking outside the building. Finding many guards posted outside his door with guns in hand. Some of them spotting very black and blue eyes.
“You can all go now.” You panted, it was clear that you had been in a hurry. “Please.”
They all shared a look, finally walking away and allowing you to slowly open the door.
“Where were you?”
“I’m really sorry Sukuna. I was so busy today and-” you gasped when a hand reached out to wrap around your neck. Slamming you into the wall behind you with his face buried in your neck.
Sukuna inhaled your floral scent, groaning to himself as his grip on your delicate skin tightened. “So you just left me here today? Am i not as important as your other little patients? Is that it hmm?”
Deep down, you had hurt his feelings. And he couldn’t help the way he clung to you as your hand lifted to his cheek. Turning his face to look down at yours.
“N-no i promise you. You’re just as important as anyone else. I would have never missed our session if i didn’t have to.”
“Make it up to me.”
It was the perfect opportunity.
“W-what?”
“Strip for me Doctor.” He let go of your neck, letting you catch your breath while looking up at him timidly.
“Sukuna..”
“Why so shy now doctor? We both know you want to.”
You shook your head, shrinking under his gaze with a protesting whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Sukuna. This is very unprofession— ahh.”
Sukuna brought his knee up between your thighs, pressing it into your clothed clit. His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin as he breathed deeply. “You can always leave if you want to. I’m used to that after all.”
You shifted on your feet when your back arched. A small whine leaving your mouth when he pulled away from you and gestured to the door.
He smirked, “Blouse first.”
You bit your lip, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was on display. The heavy swell of your breasts causing Sukuna’s mouth to water when he nodded to the bra.
With your eyes still on his you let your breasts spring out of their confinement. Two pert nipples pointing right at him as his dick rose. His hand palming himself under the pair of black pants with a shiver. “C’mere.”
You walked over to him on shaky legs. Sitting down on his lap with your head to the floor. “Uh uh,” His hand reached under the your chin to force your eyes back on his. “None of that Doc.”
You moaned when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples. Sucking your breast into his mouth while he palmed at the other. “These are even more perfect outside that tight fucking shit of yours.”
Sukuna watched as you shivered when he ran his finger down your belly. Cupping your clothed cunt with the jerk of his hips into your ass. “Fuck.. take that off.”
You hurriedly peeled off your pants, Sukuna’s pupils dilating at the sight of your lace panties. “Wore this just f’me hmm Doc? All this for Mr Dangerous.” He groaned out.
Sukuan didn’t give you a chance to respond before flipping you onto the hard mattress they called a bed. Lifting your heel clad feet onto his shoulders with his head hovering over your pussy. His tongue darting out to lick at the wet spot building from your arousal. “You’re real dirty f’ a doctor.” He teased, glancing behind him with a chuckle. “Imagine if you got caught.”
Your eyes shot up to the small window, taking note of the vacant corridor as per your request.
“God, you smell so fucking good. Wanna devour that pretty pussy.” He breathed, large hand ripping the flimsy fabric to expose your glistening folds. “Hmm, this wet all for me.”
You mewled when his long tongue licked a stripe up your slit. Swirling around your clit before sloppily dipping into your hole. His hums sending vibrations through your clit as he lapped at your dripping slick.
“Sukuna—” you mewled, back arching as you reached for his hair. Tugging softly with the curl of your toes when his tongue and fingers swapped places. The two joints fucking up roughly into your g spot as he sucked noisily at your clit. “F-fuckk, nngh— so good.” You cried out, tears welling in the corner of your eyes as your body filled with pleasure.
“Yeah? You like that Doc? Bet you wanna get that greedy cunt stuffed right after.” He grunted, your eyes rolling back in a string of muffled moans as your other hand shot up to your lips.
Your legs began to tremble, Sukuna’s smirk growing wider and wider until he stopped his movements. Watching as you blinked down at him with a sniffled whine.
“You left me. You know how much that fucking hurt? I thought i would never see you again.”
“I’m-”
“You’re sorry. Yeah, yeah.. i know.” He rolled his eyes, crawling over your body with a sigh. Using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear before pressing his lips to yours. Making you taste yourself on his tongue.
You fell deeper into the kiss, eyes closing in satisfaction as his lips moves hungrily on yours. Pulling away with a string of salvia connected you to him.
“Let’s reverse the roles yeah?” He whispered, standing up to sit in the chair that you usually sat in. “So, my adorable little patient.. put these tiny fingers to work on that clit of yours. I want you to make yourself cum.”
You whimpered, your fingers immediately meeting your sensitive clit with a shiver.
“You know what to do.” He encouraged. Your fingers beginning to rub small circles on the small bud before speeding up. Little gasps and moans falling past your lips as your stomach burned with heat.
Your eyes locking onto Sukuna’s red ones as his head tilted. Just like it had the first day you met him. “Ahh, K-kuna. Fuckk.” You cried, head falling back with your eyes still on his. The primal look in his eyes making your insides flutter as he did nothing but watch you. Not even freeing his painfully hard cock.
“Sukuna— c-can’t. Can’t hold it.” Your voice cracked, body shaking lightly as your orgasm washed over you.
“Yes you can.”
“Nngh, can’t Kuna. Need to let go.”
He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, your breathing getting heavy as you desperately waited on his permission.
He leaned his head back, eyes boring into your fingers working your wet cunt before nodding. “Go ahead.”
You came with a silent moan, body spasming uncontrollably as your pussy leaked onto his only pair of sheets.
“Dirty, dirty girl. Look at that mess.” You shied away feom his gaze. “And look at how hard you made me. Come fix it.”
You stood on wobbly feet, barely able to balance in your heels as you fell to your knees before him. Looking up at him through your lashes while pulling down his pants.
You blinked at the mere size of his bulge. He was huge. Tugging off his underwear to reveal his thick, veiny length. Pointing up to the sky with a fiery red tip. “Suck.”
You took him past your lips, barely able to take even half of him before he hit the back of your throat. Your fist stroking all the parts of him you couldn’t take.
Sukuna groaned, head flinging back with another strained one at how good your mouth felt. “S-shit doc. You really got a mouth on ya.” He gasped, eyes meeting yours as you attempted to take him down your throat. Your drool coating both your lips and his cock as you lewdly sucked him off.
He took your head into his hold, letting you do your own thing as he grunted with each jerk of his hips. Defined abs tensing when he grew closer to his release.
“Fuck Doc, gon’ shoot my cum down that tight throat of yours.” He breathed. Holding you down onto him as you gagged and sputtered lightly, Sukuna’s cock twitching before you felt the warm liquid run down your throat.
“Wish i could fuck that pussy so bad.” He let go of your head, wiping a drop of his cum from your chin before pushing his finger past your lips. Watching as you sighed in content while sucking every last drop. “It’s too bad that in about one minute those guards are gonna come get you Doc. Our session is over.”
You had no time to question how he knew. Scurrying to redress with widened eyes.
Sukuna may not have had a clock. Nor was he able to distinctly see the sun rise and set. But he’d learned to count the seconds when you were around. He knew how much time he had with you.
“And… now.”
At that very moment the door swung open. Sukuna having easily pulled back up his pants after giving you your seat back. Both of you looking as professional as you possibly could.
“See you tomorrow Doc.” He smiled innocently, watching as you scrambled out while avoiding his eyes.
You really fucked up now.
It was hard to keep him out of your mind before. But now, trying was futile. You’d gotten a taste and you needed more. Which was why your brain would not let you close your eyes without thinking of him fucking you.
The next morning you bit back a whimper as your clit was caught between your rubbing thighs. You had worn a tight pencil skirt with no panties. Just for Sukuna.
You were thankful that the guards had complied to your wishes of them leaving.
You wanted to stop yourself. To go back home and forget about the red eyed prisoner. He may not have been dangerous to you physically. But to your heart and mind.. he’d be the death of you.
When the door closed behind you, you found yourself bring pushed roughly into the same wall as last time. Sukuna letting out an animalistic groan as he captured your lips on his. Kissing you so much more feverishly than yesterday.
“You don’t know how much i need you. Didn’t even sleep last night.” He panted, turning you around so that your chest rested against the concrete surface. “Missed you so much Doc.” His voice softened, kissing down your neck while grinding up into you. His fingers finding their way under your skirt with a smirk against your skin. “And i thought you couldn’t get any dirtier.. no panties huh?”
You moaned when he prodded at your already dripping cunt. The thought of him being enough to have gotten you soaked. “Shit- tell me what you want Doc. Let me hear you say it.” He growled lowly, ready to snap the second the words left your mouth.
“Please— please fuck me.”
Sukuna hungrily shoved your skirt up. The fabric bunching at your hips as he freed his aching cock. Both of you letting out a noise of satisfaction when he sunk into you, his large hands holding tightly onto your hips to pull you into him. Your back arching as your hands shot out to the wall for support.
“O-ohh God.” You cried loudly, your lips parted in shaky moans as Sukuna’s cock rammed deep near the entrance of your cervix. His veins grazing at your g spot as the fat girth stretched you to your limit.
“Nah baby, ‘s only me.”
“Kunaa— so goood- ahhh.” Tears pooled in your eyes, Sukuna’s hand reaching into your hair to pull you back into his chest. Your nails clawing at the wall in front of you as he destroyed yours.
“Taking me so fucking well. Shit- pussy’s so damn snug.” He husked, hips snapping noisily into yours as he fucked into your walls mercilessly. Basking in the sounds of your choked screams and mewls. The way you sobbed underneath him when your knees buckled.
He was fucking you so hard and deep. Better than anything you’d felt before. His cock slamming into all the places that would drive you crazy.
“The day you fucking leave me i will break outta here Doc. And i will find you. You’re mine got it?” There was a certain seriousness in his voice that made goosebumps arise on your skin. Your salty tears mixing with your drool as they ran down your flushed face.
“And when i do get outta here you’re gonna have my baby Doc. ‘M gonna fuck you again and again till’ i eventually give you my fuck—ing kid.” His breathing became ragged, your body rocking forward with each of his movements.
He smirked. “I’ve fucked ya this dumb already?” His cock twitching inside you as your body moved with his cock like a fleshlight. Your vision blurred as your head grew light, dizzy. You couldn’t think, every roll of Sukuna’s hips clouding your mind as you let an incoherent babble drip off your tongue. Shakily chanting his name when he reached forward to pinch at your clit.
“Look at you. Look so pretty underneath me like this.” His free hand snaked up to your neck, groaning loudly at the feeling of your heart beat on his skin. Pulling you up so your back rested flat against his broad chest, wandering lips meeting your exposed collarbone. “Let go f’me.”
Your body quivered as you tightened around him. Letting out a whimper-like cry as you came messily on his cock. A breathy moan of his own sounding in your ear when his thrusts began to get sloppy.
“Kunaaa.. inside. Want you inside. ‘M on the pill.” You begged, legs giving way as he held you flush against him.
“Whatever you want, Doc.” Slowly coming to a halt as he buried himself inside your warmth, tongue darting out to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Feeling his cock swell as he pumped you full of his cum. Painted your gummy walls in nothing but white
“Looks like i’m sending you back with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He pulled out with a grin. His cum leaking out of your fluttering cunt in small spurts when he used his hands to knead at the flesh of your ass. “Hottest thing i’ve seen in a while.. after you of course.”
You hummed, eyes shutting as you fell into him. Feeling the thick substance slowly dripping down your legs while spreading over your sticky folds. Sukuna stumbled back onto his bed with you on top of him. Your face nestling into his chest with a soft smile. “Hey Doc.. i love ya but those guards are gon’ be back soon.”
‘So worth it.’ Was the one thought branding itself into your mind as your body registered the rough, lust filled fuck.
“Shit.”
You and Sukuna had gotten so much closer over yet another week. You had never believed in falling in love that quickly until now. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much better when he was around. Seeing him was the highlight of your day- especially now that you’d convinced for longer sessions.
He felt the same way. You were the second person he had fallen in love with and somehow even harder. You made his heart.. swell. And he was serious about busting out to start a life with you.
“So, your first love. We never finished talking about her.” You smirked, notepad back in hand as you did your job. Sukuna having been stealing small kisses from you between every question.
“How about we forget about my first love and focus on my current one. You.”
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