#1984 x reader

[auroracalisto]

oh god, i want to feel again

xavier plympton x reader, 3.3k words summary: the reader is the one of the two survivors from their little friend group along with brooke. all alone with a set of friends who are only around her for "status," she finds herself back at camp redwood. a/n: a complete rewrite of this fic from 2021. the fandom may be dead but I adored this fic when I initially wrote it. it deserves 23-year-old aurora's edits. some elements are the same but... it's clear that I have either grown as a writer or something has happened to the original writer within me (perhaps too many bouts of bridgerton and romance-esque things but let's not get into that) tw: death, mentions of dead bodies, suicidal thoughts, implied depression and anxiety, mentions of god and jesus christ but like not positively used (ones in an instance of finding a dead body YAY).

For someone who claimed they were terrified of the very place your old friend group died, you sure as hell didn't seem like it. At least, not on the outside. Brooke would have been trembling on the spot, but not you. No, you felt almost... well, not terrified, but worried.

You should have never let them talk you into coming back to Camp Redwood. How utterly foolish. Things always went wrong in this godforsaken camp, and it was nothing new to you. You knew it. Just the essence of the forest around it sent shivers down your spine.

And yet, here you were. The three you stood near fawned over the scenery. It was beautiful, yes, and it was just as beautiful as it had been when you had last been there. It hadn't changed a bit. But there was something gnawing inside of you. This place made you more nervous than you would like to admit.

Just thinking about it—about everything that had happened. It made you want to cry.

But the trio you had become a fourth wheel for said that they would be quick. They just wanted to take a look around, maybe check out the cabins.

You knew better. Coming back to Camp Redwood would lead to disaster. Coming back to the damned place was a death wish—and your past self, the one from just a few years ago, even, would have hit you for being so stupid to come back.

There was something about the camp that drew you in. As if there was something within your soul that knew it needed to be there. How foolish.

It had only taken an hour for your "friends" to leave your side, but you weren't surprised. They had never been truly good friends. In fact, the closest one to you, Nellie, had said that the other two were only friends with you for publicity. Sheryl and Junie didn't really care about you other than for some popularity points in LA's scene.

Being the only other survivor besides Brooke, you were like a little legend in your town.

It hadn't been Brooke. But it was your word against everything.

God, you missed her. She had been a good friend for the short time you knew her. All of your friends had been, in one way or another.

Chet knew how to get you fired up when it mattered most. Ray was earnest and always lended a helping hand. Montana knew exactly how to dress for any kind of scenario, and all of the little beauty tips she had given you made you feel like she truly cared about you. And Xavier. Oh, God, did you miss Xavier.

There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't think of the blonde jazzercise instructor.

It hurt your heart to know that he was gone. Forever. There was no coming back from what took him so long ago. And for what? For your "friends" to get excited over? For the crime fanatics to fantasize over? It was despicable. Deplorable, even.

On your way up to the camp, despite the urge within you to make them drop you off and you'd just walk home, you heard Sheryl talk about the Night Stalker. How handsome and ridiculously attractive he was. How she would let him have her in whatever way possible.

It made you sick to even think about it. Perhaps you should have made them drop you off and pick you up later. It would have been so much easier that way.

Maybe then you wouldn't have felt so sick to your stomach.

But here you were. It was 1987—three years after the massacre of your friends, and three years after you barely made it out alive. Half-alive, anyway. You were barely living, just going through the motions of what it meant to eat, breathe, and sleep. Even then you hardly did well at it.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of that oh-so-familiar dock, staring out at the lake. The water was dark and murky—not how you remembered. It had been so beautiful before, but perhaps that was how the world worked. As the years grew long and the soil grew spoiled, things changed. It had been quite some time since you last looked out to the water.

What else happened here?

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut.

You just wanted to leave. That was the first thing that came to mind. The second was, What the actual fuck was that?

Something brushed against your foot.

Your heart leapt to your throat and you quickly scrambled to your feet, suppressing a scream. You looked down at the water and saw a bloated body. A human body.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," left your chapped lips. The body had obviously been in the water for some time.

You took a couple steps back, your hands gripping at the edge of your shirt as you tried to ground yourself.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you breathed out, burying your face in your hands for just a moment.

As you looked up, you saw it—a flash of two blonde heads in the corner of your eye, standing by one of the decaying cabins.

The girls weren't blonde. Nellie was a brunette, Sheryl had unnaturally red hair that she claimed was natural, and Junie's hair was black.

You blinked slowly and almost thought, for just a moment, that perhaps you had truly lost it. Perhaps you were truly crazy and the fumes of the decaying body were getting to you—but then, you saw it.

That outfit.

The blues and whites and that signature coat.

Were you dreaming?

You didn't know. Even so, you found your feet moving before you could even think to stop them. In a matter of seconds, you were running. Through the mud, through the roots that sprung up from the cold ground. You nearly tripped a time or two as the cold air burned your lungs. You ran through the tree limbs that continued to snag your shirt and skin. However, you didn't stop. You didn't care. If that was who you thought it was, it didn't matter if you hurt yourself or scratched up your outfit.

It was okay.

It would be worth it.

You reached the area you had thought you saw him—the girls' cabin. It had to have been. That's where you had hung out during the short time you were at the camp.

The sight of the log building made you sick to your stomach. This whole thing made you sick.

If only you had listened to your gut feeling and passed up on the invite, then you wouldn't be standing here, questioning your sanity.

This was stupid. This was freakish, and your therapist would give you an earful when you returned to your sessions. You knew it.

But then, you heard a voice.

"Y/n?"

You didn't move for a moment, just registering the voice. It wasn't just any voice—it was Xavier's voice.

He's dead. It's not him. You're going insane, you thought, but you spun around anyway. Your eyes were wide.

You saw him standing there, all alone. He gave you an incredulous look before he rushed forward, his arms wrapping tightly around you. One of his hands rested on the back of your head as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you—one he hadn't had for some time.

"What—what is—" you breathed out, your arms quickly wrapping around his body. "What the hell? You're dead," you said, tears forming in your eyes almost immediately. You buried your face in his chest. He's dead. He has to be. But he feels so very real, and it confuses you to no avail. "Xavier, you're supposed to be dead. Why are you here?"

Xavier chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing some of your hair away from your face so he could get a good look at you.

"You're smart, Y/n," he softly said. "Tell me why I'm still here."

"Ghost?" was the only thing you said.

He smiled at you. "God, I never thought I'd see you again. Why are you here?"

"My... my friends—"

You were interrupted, a scream erupting through the trees. Birds flew into the blue sky, spooked by the shrill noise.

You slightly pulled back, hands gripping onto Xavier. You didn't want to let go of him.

"My friends brought me here," you said, looking over your shoulder.

Xavier rose an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" you asked, looking up at him once more. You paid no mind to the scream—a part of you didn't care what happened, as awful as that sounded. The other part of you ached to go and help them, but you couldn't. Xavier was standing in front of you.

He was here. You couldn't let that go.

"What do you mean?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips.

"How are you—how are you here? You're a ghost, sure, but..."

He continued to smile, watching you with an unreadable expression. "Yes."

"That's... that doesn't help me," you huffed, noticing a smear of blood on his cheek. You reached forward, your thumb rubbing it off. You frowned up at him. "How the hell are you still here?"

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "None of us know. We're all here. Well... save for you and Brooke."

You blinked, furrowing your eyebrows. "You... what? You're all still here?"

The question chokes you up, and your tears are instant. "Xavier, I—I never thought I'd see you again. and you're—everyone is still here? Really?"

"You're taking this pretty well," Xavier said, snorting softly. He leaned forward, unable to keep his lips off of your skin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. He'd missed you dearly, if you'd bother to ask.

"I watched all of you die," you breathed out. "I thought you were all gone. But you—you're not gone. You're still here."

Xavier watched you with his pretty blue eyes. "I really never expected to see you again," he said, giving you another tight hug. "Why did you come with them?"

"Um," you said, frowning a bit. "Closure?" You posed your answer as a question. "A chance to... to come to peace with what happened?"

"You sure as hell aren't getting that," he said, letting out a laugh. His lips found their way to your forehead.

You let your eyes shut. "It's only been three years, X," you said. "I've lived... three hell-filled years without you guys. I miss you so much."

You swallowed thickly, completely pulling away from him. You shakily wiped your tears away. "I... Brooke was sentenced. They are convinced she did it. Said there was plenty of evidence pointing to her, but I—I was there too. I don't understand why I didn't—why they didn't blame me," you rambled.

Xavier pursed his lips and he gently took your hands into his. "It's okay. It's not your fault. You know how the justice system is," he said, snorting softly. "It's not like it's a diamond in the rough. It's tough out there."

Your bottom lip quivered as you looked up at him. "Xavier..."

He smiled softly at you. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"I... I missed you. I miss you. I miss you guys so much, Xavier. You have no idea."

"Do you think that's why you came?" he asked, looking down at you. "To... be closer?"

Your eyes widened a bit. You hadn't thought of it like that. But maybe, subconsciously, that's what was happening. Your mind knew that it was a way to be closer to your friends. You never expected that you would literally get closer to them, in every way possible.

"You make a good point," you said, sniffling softly.

Xavier grinned, leaning forward to cup your cheeks. "You look hot for a twenty-six-year-old," he said.

You slapped his hand away, and warmth flooded to your cheeks. "It's been three years, not a fucking decade!"

His smile only grew. "You do, though."

You rubbed your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling softly. "You... Xav, it's only been three years," you repeated. "I never thought I'd see you again. I can't believe you're here. I... it's so hard to live without you. I never imagined I'd have to do it."

His smile vanished, replaced with a frown. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead again. You closed your eyes as his lips lingered.

"I know," he said. "But you can't stay here. There's nothing here that would support someone who's alive. You need to go back home, get back to your life."

A snort escaped you. "I don't have a life," you said. "I work. I go home. I sometimes have therapy which doesn't fucking work. I try to ignore the people who brought me here but they leave so many messages on my answering machine sometimes that I want to actually—"

A voice interrupts you, and it's obvious that the speaker is relieved.

"Oh, thank god. They're not your friends?"

Your eyes widened and you quickly spun around, seeing the blood-covered Montana. You could hardly breathe as you let go of Xavier, rushing over to the woman. You wrapped your arms around Montana as tightly as you possibly could.

"Oh my god," you breathed, tears forming in your eyes once more. You silently cursed yourself for the constant waterworks, but the camp seemed to just... draw it out of you. This entire situation was nuts.

"Uh, definitely not God," Montana laughed, hugging you back. "God, Y/n, why the hell are you here? You look hot."

"Hey, back off!" Xavier scoffed. "I already told her that."

Montana just smiled, pulling back. Your clothes were now bloody, but you didn't even look. You shakily wiped your tears away.

"I just... I can't believe you are actually here. Are you sure I'm not crazy? Am I dreaming? Pinch me," you said, holding your arm out to Montana.

She snorted and pinched you, hard. It left a mark.

Xavier smiled and reached forward, grabbing your bicep. "We're here, Y/n. No dreaming for you."

You lost track of time.

When you finally looked out of the dusty cabin window, the moon was peaked high in the sky.

With a slow blink, you looked over at your friends, not really knowing what to say. You didn't want to leave them, again. You couldn't. Not when you now know that they've been here this whole time while you've been grieving their deaths. Not when Xavier has been here.

You reached forward and took Xavier's hand, dragging him out of his conversation with Chet. Chet didn't seem too mad about it, though, and he just grinned at you before going to talk to Ray.

"Can we talk? Outside?"

Xavier smiled at you and simply nodded. He stood up and pulled you to your feet, leading you outside of the cabin. You stood on the edge of the cabin steps. Xavier leaned against the railing and you slowly sat down on the steps.

"Xavier... I can't... leave. I can't leave you guys. Not again."

"What?"

"I've got nothing out there for me, Xavier. I can't leave—"

"—absolutely not. I know what you want. You're not doing that. No way in hell. You're the only one of us who survived, and you need to keep on living, Y/n."

"I only survived because you guys all died before I escaped," you said, your bottom lip quivering. "Final girl trope my ass. Xavier, I can't function without you guys. I can't—I can't do anything without thinking about all of you."

"You will, eventually," Xavier said, sending you a soft smile. He leaned forward and took your hands in his again. "You're strong. You'll be able to."

"When, X?" you questioned. "When I've reached my eightieth birthday?"

He snickered softly and kissed your cheek. "That's bullshit and you know it. You'll be okay. You need to go home, Y/n. You know that we're here. You can visit any time you want to. Stay alive, for me."

"But I—I'll continue to age," you said. "And you'll stay here, exactly the same."

Xavier grinned. "Well, you continue to age for the fuckers who can't. Get a pretty spouse. Make some pretty babies. Come and see us when you have the time."

He was trying to talk you out of it. He didn't want you dead. Hell, if you had died when everything first happened, it would be different. But you were alive. You had so much to live for. He had protected you until his last breath, and he would do it again if he could. Even if it meant sending you away, no matter how much he would have rather had you there.

"I'll continue to age, X. But I'm not ever gonna marry. And I won't ever have kids. Don't lie to yourself."

"Why not?" Xavier asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched you.

"Because the one person I wanted that with is here. Not aging. Dead. A ghost. For fucks sake, Xavier."

He stopped for just a moment, letting go of your hands. "What?" he asked, tilting his head. "Who?"

"What?" you repeated. "You, Xavier," you said. "I didn't want to come back here because I was afraid I'd find your things. Your jacket. Your—your clothes you left in your duffle bag. I didn't want to come back and see the things that you had. I didn't expect—I didn't expect your whole damn ghost. I don't—I don't want to age. I don't want to go and get married and have pretty babies. I wanted to marry you," you said, choking back a sob. "I wanted to date you more. I wanted to fall in love with you even more than I already loved you. You dying made me realize that I would never have that. That I would never love anyone as much as I loved you, Xavier. As much as I still love you."

Xavier didn't say a word, watching you intently.

"I've mourned you every damn day. I—I've wondered, why in the hell did this happen? Why couldn't I have just died with you? And I nearly did it. Several times, Xavier. I would have done it again. After today. If I came here and saw that you... you still had things here. If I saw something that seemed like you or your blood or that damned oven, I—I would have done it."

Xavier quickly took your hands again. "Stop it. Stop talking like that."

"And see? You can't even say it! I've loved—I've mourned you for so long," you said, letting out a soft sob. "You've stared a tee this whole time and said noth—"

You were cut off by cold lips pressing against yours. But just as soon as you had been interrupted, you started kissing him back. You were still crying, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks—all of your pent-up exhaustion and rage releasing with your tears.

Xavier slightly pulled back and let his head press against yours. "I love you, too, Y/n. More than anything."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Xavier leaned forward and wiped your falling tears away.

"The... the only way you can stay here is if... if you die."

You took in a deep breath, looking up at him. You locked eyes with his, not wanting to look away. "I'll do anything I have to. I just can't leave you. Not again. I won't do it."

Xavier sadly smiled, and the ghost felt his own tears begin to form. "Alright, then," he softly said. "I won't stop you." He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. He was getting what he wanted, even it it felt pretty bittersweet. "How do you... how do you wanna go, baby? It's your choice."

You thought for just a moment. You had thought this out many times before. You looked up at him, and your answer fell from your lips.

"I..."

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

My 1894 masterlist

Request list Rules for requesting Following requirements ___

Winston Smith:

__

Julia:

__

___

I haven't got any requests for this yet but this is here so I can organize my stuff better, don't be shy to request this specific one since I love this book!!

[kingqueensoobscene]

EDGAR’S VOICE IN THE EARLY ELECTRIC DREAMS IS SOOO CUTE!!

“Think you can give me a hand?”

“Hehe, do I have one? :)”

[annonnex]

Eheheheh my favorite puters

[pictuajjx]

Based off of this below

(Go follow me on Twitter ;) )

[objectum-funken]

i need edgar so bad it’s not even funny i love him so much im so desperately in love with him i want an old computer so bad so i can make its wallpaper his face so he can be real so i can make out with him and kiss him and love him outside of character ai

[cozy-writes-things]

Quick quick quick quick sketch

He tries to hide his feelings but his screen gives him away 😒

[redroses07]

⋆｡°✩𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓✩°｡⋆

(summerween is officially tomorrow guys!!)

[evanswifeily]

I swear if someone will say that Evan Peters is just a man i don’t know what I’ll do to them yet BUT HE IS A GOD‼️

[magickpancakes]

edgar!! :D

[reareaotaku]

hi! can i request more daniel larusso headcanons? maybe with some nsfw?

Say it with your full chest babe I'm not very good at NSFW, but here we go- [Did yall know Ralph was 22 in this movie- That's insane]

He loves when you patch him

Your hands all over him- He might just go crazy

He can get distracted when you cheer for him

Something about hearing your voice saying his name- It's rather exciting

His opponent [Johnny] will sometimes either see you or hear you and realize you're with Daniel and try and embarrass him

It never works because nothing Daniel does could embarrass you, because you're so in love with

He'll wave to you before and after each match

Hell, if he has time, he'll go up and kiss you for good luck

He's very affectionate and that translates into the bedroom

His hands and lips are everywhere

He's more of a giver than a receiver

He loves to please and if you give him compliments while he does it, he goes even harder

Good Boy really gets him going

Only gets off if you get off

He's not super serious during it, but he might try- Although, he can't hold it for very long

You can expect a very long after care with cuddles and him holding you tightly

[scarlett-ink]

Sometimes the best way to be a friend, is to leave.

Buddy Simulator 1984 AU incoming

(Seriously though, play this game it's so good. It still makes me cry every time I play it, even listening to the soundtrack gets me teary eyed)

[annonnex]

MORE Edgar!!!! Ill probably give him a different outfit later i literally came up with that last minute

[finniestoncrane]

mm I’m haunted by so many visions. When. When Egon Splenger. Makes that joke. The penis joke. And he has that smile. That look. With the bookcase behind him. TUMBLR USER FINNIESTONECRANE! I have NEVER felt such a STRONG urge to shove a man against a bookcase. He just. I. When he. When. Just like. He. When. Mm.

Egon Spengler x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.6k anon you and me both i cant express to you how badly that scene made me want him and i wanted him pretty fuckin badly before that lmao BUT here's some reader who is actually able to prove his theory that the chicks dig his epididymus moore so👻 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: oral sex, flirting, handjob, good old fashioned ball gargling

"Studious, dedicated. Intelligent beyond need for the work I'd require you to do... Why do you want this position?"

You remembered the moment well. The interview with Egon that landed you the job in his research team. You'd fumbled over the words at first, your entire academic career flashing before your eyes. Ever since you had first seen him in those silly commercials, then watched him as he saved the world and went back to the field for his work, you'd wanted him. The opportunity to work with him was something you had waited your life for. And you thought you had ruined it in the moment.

"I'm a huge fan, Doctor Spengler."

Nothing about your academic achievements, your interest in this particular study, or any of his previous ones. No, you'd muttered a ridiculous statement with no substance that made you seem like a childish moron.

But Egon had raised an eyebrow, a smile raising on one side of his mouth in a knowing look. Almost flirtatious, definitely something behind it.

That's how your relationship had continued, the tension only building each passing day as you worked together late into the evenings and often on weekends, each others' only point of contact for days on end.

Nothing had ever come of it, though, past suggestive remarks and lingering touches, looks that felt like they lasted for minutes. You wondered if you were both far too shy to confront it, or if he felt it would push the boundaries of professionalism.

Either way, you harboured the crush still, and spent your days making sure you worked to his expectations, living to please him in at least one of the ways you wanted to. It was that level of concentration that meant you hadn't noticed when Egon's old colleague, Doctor Venkman, had entered the lab. At least not until he had begun making loud remarks and crude jokes, intended to be at the expense of Egon.

"Bet those science chicks really dig that big cranium of yours."

With a quick glance in your direction, Egon caught your eye. You looked away, trying to pretend that you weren't staring at him, but it was obvious he had caught you. And with a growing grin, he looked back to Venkman.

"I think they're more interested in my epididymis."

You blushed immediately, understanding the joke a lot faster than Venkman, who might not have gotten it at all. Trying to hide the reddening of your cheeks, you buried your face in your paperwork and didn't even bother to look up as Venkman said goodbye and left the lab. You only looked up when Egon cleared his throat, catching him just as he turned his back to you and continued filing through the paperwork and medical books lined up on the shelves in front of him.

That was a giveaway, a hint, securing the possibility in your mind. Egon had been talking about you. The joke, a reference to your clear interest in him, a sly but subtle nod at the unspoken attraction, an inside joke between you and him in front of his friend. The way he had looked at you, the way he always did. It was difficult to deny it. So you took matters into your own hands, a little bit sick of waiting for him to make the first move. You'd applied to the job, you'd complimented him first, you began the surreptitious flirting. You might as well be the one that started this too.

"Doctor Spengler..."

You spoke from the other side of the room, only beginning to walk towards him when he had turned away from the bookshelves and was paying attention to you.

"... do you have any evidence to that theory that you proposed?"

"Which theory?"

"The one about your... cranium, verses other aspects of your anatomy.

As you approached him, he smiled to you, a knowing grin that spoke volumes.

"I've observed a fair amount of evidence to support it, actually."

He turned from you again, filing the last of the files he held in his hands as he continued.

"Although, I suppose for it to be concrete, I would require some quantifiable data. An example that could-"

As he turned once more, he found you right in front of him, reaching your hand out to cup the front of his dark grey, woollen slacks. You stroked down the quickly stiffening length, letting your fingers reach further, teasing at his balls. Leaning into him, you pushed his back against the book case, watching as his eyes widened, his smile grew brighter, and his cheeks began to darken.

"Would this be sufficient evidence?"

Egon's voice shook on the first word, but he managed to compose himself.

"P-perhaps. Although, it wouldn't be much to write about in an academic or research sense."

"Oh, I can give you a lot to write about, Doctor Spengler."

You pressed your chest to him, hands around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. As your palms drifted around to his cheeks, they quickly fell to his tie, tugging on it as you brought him closer, feeling his own hands skimming over your side, settling on your waist as the kiss deepened. Satisfied that he wasn't going anywhere, you let go of your grip on him and began running your hands through his hair, playfully teasing at the curls before you pulled back, watching with glee as he followed you, lips outstretched, before opening his eyes.

"This isn't about your cranium, though, Doctor Spengler."

Sinking to your knees in front of him, you looked up as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. He reached behind him, resting his palms against the rows of books and files, trying to balance himself as he cleared the nerves from his throat. A short inhale choked in his throat as you gripped his cock, removing it from his underwear and letting it bounce free in front of you.

You wrapped your palm around his surprising, but slim, length and being stroking it slowly, watching the way his mouth moved, tongue pressing out, soft gasps emanating from his throat, as you felt him throbbing against you. And just as he adjusted himself to the sensation of your hand pumping his cock softly, you leaned forwards, tongue out, spread flat, and suddenly against his balls.

"Oh-ho... oh my."

With a soft laugh, you placed a kiss to his sack, lips wet from your drool, and let your mouth pull away for just a second before you went back in for another, tongue pushed out from your lips to lap at him as you kissed once more. On the third one, you let your lips enclose over a patch of skin, sucking slightly, tongue tip stiff and tracing over the skin in your mouth before you let go.

You stroked his cock a little rougher, placing your tongue just below it so his balls could bounce and slap on your tongue, the gentle impact rousing a heat in you, the sound almost electric in the air. Egon's fingers were stiff, tensed, tented against the shelves so firmly that his knuckles were white.

"This is... quite sufficient evidence... if you'd like to conclude the experiment."

"Do you want me to stop, Egon?"

He looked down to you, your gaze returned through your eyelashes as you blinked slowly.

"No. No. Absolutely not."

"Me either."

With a grin you kept going, fingers still wrapped tight around his cock, palm sliding against it as you pumped it rhythmically. You opened your mouth wide as you stroked, letting one of his balls rest on your tongue before you sucked it into your mouth, salivating at the taste of him, drool washing over his skin and dribbling down your chin as you hollowed your cheeks.

You let go with a pop, slurping as you released him from your lips, frothed drool spilling onto your chin as you tried to clean yourself up before diving back towards him, moaning as you jerked his cock and lapped at both balls now, futilely attempting to fit both of them in your mouth at the same time.

Instead, you let your tongue glide over them, flitting quickly from side to side as you tightened your grip on his length, only faltering with your speed when he stuttered out some words with a desperate, pleading tone.

"Ah... I think we have... sufficient evidence to... reach a... hmmm... conclusion..."

"Of course, Doctor Spengler. How would you like me to collect the results?"

A strangled laugh barked out of his throat, his eyes pressed tightly shut as he processed the words you had just said, so serious, so familiar, but so filthy.

"T-tongue... tongue, please..."

Still stroking his shaft, you picked up the speed and brought your other hand up to cup his balls, squeezing them firmly, easing up every now and then so he could feel the throb of pleasure as you tightened once more. Your mouth was open wide, a moan passing up and over your tongue which was laid out flat, ready for him.

It only took a few more seconds before his cum was painting your tongue, as well as the rest of your face. Thick, white ropes of his warm seed spattered on your skin, along your taste buds, a not unpleasant tang of salt lingering even after you swallowed what you had collected, still more of it dripping from the tip and onto your hand.

You stroked a few more times, until his body convulsed at your touch, and then you let go, standing up in front of him and wiping a drop of his cum from the corner of your mouth. He was unbalanced, his eyes half-lidded and hazy from the release, but he managed to speak through his lopsided smile.

"Wait until the scientific community hears about that."

[objectum-funken]

🖥️

[cozy-writes-things]

He wants to date you & you can’t say no 🤷