#captain conrad smut

[loki-cees-all]

I'm Dreaming of A White Christmas

Cee's James Conrad Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : James Conrad x Female Reader

Summary : After another long journey through the hot jungle with Conrad, you come to the startling realization that it’s actually Christmas Eve.

W/c : 2.8k words

Content / Warnings : Non-traditional Christmas smut, Non-traditional Christmas fluff.

Author’s Note : This fic is dedicated to Climate Change, for making me have to suffer through 20+ years of Christmas without a single fucking flake of snow to show for it 🙃

18+ Only - Minors DNI

━━━ · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ● · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ━━━

Sweaty would have been an understatement. 

After two days in the jungle, after traipsing through endless amounts of grimy mud and sticky bushes and shouting yourself raw, it felt like no amount of cold showers was ever going to bring your body temperature back down to something reasonable.

Hell, it was damn near midnight now, and the outside humidity was still hovering well over 90%. But even in those conditions, the entire ordeal was worth it in the end. 

You probably spent over half an hour in the shower once you made it back to the hostel. Just standing there, letting the water run down your scalp and skin, until your muscles were too heavy and exhausted to even reach for a bar of soap. Instead, your eyes fluttered closed while your mind replayed the dramatic events over the past two days. 

Eventually you forced yourself to actually wash yourself and dry off. Conrad would surely be back soon, if he wasn’t already, and you wanted to be waiting for him when he finally returned. You wanted to hear about the look of joy on that poor mother’s face when her child was finally returned safely. 

After dressing in what passes for clean clothes these days, you begin to sweat again before even making it back to the room. Cursing God, and Lucifer, and Jesus, and anyone else you could think of, you pushed open the door and flopped unceremoniously onto the stiff bed. 

Christ, even the bedsheets were sticky and miserable. It’s a good thing you were so unbelievably exhausted, otherwise you might never be able to fall asleep tonight. And a sticky bed was way better than sleeping on the ground at least, but still - you’d absolutely murder someone just for the chance at a crisp, heavy snowfall tonight. 

For a chilly, decadent Winter Wonderland, a fuzzy sweater, and a creamy hot chocolate. It’d been ages since you’d last felt a genuine shiver…

Groaning, you slowly push up to sitting and try to blink yourself awake. While rolling your shoulders to pop your neck, you glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read half an hour till midnight, and your heart rate picked up a little bit. Only an hour had passed since temporarily parting ways with Conrad, and you already couldn’t wait to see him again. 

To keep yourself occupied while waiting, you step gingerly over to the single table in your room and grab your canvas knapsack from the chair. Inside the bag, nestled between your empty canteen and a seemingly endless supply of empty peanut wrappers, is the journal you used to document your adventures with Conrad. 

The journal has definitely seen better days. Its edges are bent and torn, the cover is littered with mud and water stains - but it was your most prized possession. Inside those pages were beautiful, tragic, tales of both wanderlust and wonderful lust. Traveling with Conrad was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, from midnight skinny-dipping to beach camping and stargazing. 

You’d seen more marvels of the world than most people ever get to dream about. And the fact that you got to experience it all with such a stunning man was nothing more than a miracle. 

In-between those special moments, there would occasionally be a less-than savory or even potentially dangerous mission to take on. They were just in order to fund your more pleasant adventures, but even the stress and peril was well worth it to you. Every moment with that tall, devastatingly handsome, perfectly muscular and very protective former soldier was a dream come true - snowy weather or not. 

A warm breeze drifts in through the open window, charitably stirring the stagnant air in the room. It was a temporary reprieve, and just enough to get you to uncap your pen and begin writing. 

Over the next several pages, recollections of the previous days’ events poured out seamlessly. The stop at this small village, just a day’s walk from Saigon, was supposed to be a quick one; just long enough to find a place to bathe and stock up on supplies for the final trek of your journey. 

But as soon as Conrad heard a mother’s anguished screams of terror down the street, he literally dropped everything and took off running. By the time you managed to pay the vendor, gather the purchased wares from the street and take off after him, he had disappeared. 

A few minutes later you finally managed to find him, down on his knees and comforting the distraught mother in broken Vietnamese while her neighbors and other children shouted additional information to him. Eventually, he was able to determine that the woman’s youngest child, a boy no more than 2 or 3 years old, had taken off suddenly - possibly into the jungle, and definitely terribly lost. 

One look from Conrad was all it took to let you know that Saigon could wait; finding this missing child was way more important than any other task he’d ever been given. Only a monster would ever disagree with him about something like that. 

Shortly thereafter, you were journeying back into the jungle with Conrad, alongside the woman’s brother and his two eldest children. All four of you walked from sunrise to sundown, meticulously searching every inch of the earth in widening, concentric circles - slowly venturing further and further into the jungle, looking for clues and desperately calling out the name of the missing child. 

If it were up to Conrad, you knew he’d keep looking throughout the night, and that he was only stopping at sunset to give you and the others a chance to rest. But as soon as he thought you were asleep, he’d slip out of your tent and go off searching by himself all night, returning to camp just before sunrise and looking more weary than ever. 

But eventually, you all did manage to find the child. When Conrad pulled that scared little boy down from the tree, you wept actual tears of joy. He was mostly uninjured, just frightened and starving and sporting a few more scrapes and cuts than before. And after getting a little bit of food and water into his belly, the former soldier dutifully carried him all the way back to the village. 

He’d directed you to go straight to the hostel to get cleaned up while he returned the child to his mother, and that was where the journal entry concluded for now. Your eyes filled with happy tears once more as you skimmed over the words you’d just written; you’d never ever seen Conrad more pleased or relieved than in the moment when he finally located the little boy alive. 

Finding people and reuniting lost loved ones was in his blood, it was woven tightly into his DNA. It was what he lived for most; the one thing he’d never been able to have himself.  

With a relieved sigh, you flip back a few pages to check the date of the previous entry, and your breath suddenly hitches in surprise. Could this be right?! Maybe all the sweat was seeping into your brain and drowning all of your synapses beyond functionality…

But no. You double- and then triple-check. You count on your fingers, you write out each date individually in the margin of the page. The last entry, written the morning you and Conrad were due to arrive in the village, two whole days prior, was dated December 22nd. Making today…December 24th. 

Christmas Eve. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as a wave of excitement and painful nostalgia crashes over the room. Life is so much different now than when you were a kid; of course Christmas wouldn’t be any exception, no matter how much you loved the holiday. And it doesn’t feel right, sweating and feeling like you’re boiling alive on the day before Christmas - yet, here it is all the same. 

Mercifully, the pain is short-lived as you sense the familiar thud of Conrad’s boots finally coming up the stairs. The sound of his voice, spirited yet exhausted, reverberates off your skin as he laughs with another guest of the hostel. You barely have enough time to bite your lip in anticipation before he’s bursting into the room, a lovely grin on his face and his jeans and knapsack covered in dirt and muck. 

Like he’s Santa Clause, and he’s finally come round to you, bearing gifts of good news and his very own presence. 

You hop out of your seat, matching his giddy grin with one of your own. “Kid’s back home now? Safe and sound?” 

Before he can even finish nodding, you’re across the room and jumping into his arms. Luckily, Conrad is already quite adept with this maneuver and he catches you with ease, bracing his arms underneath your thighs as they wrap around his waist. 

“Was that doubt I sensed in your tone just now, darling?” he teases playfully against your lips, his large hands shifting to grip your ass. 

You laugh, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and shifting closer in his grasp to let your lips brush against his. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of doubting you…” 

“There’s a good girl…” Conrad purrs before closing the distance between your lips, kissing you passionately and eagerly. 

You moan into it, shifting one hand to cup his jaw as your lips part between his. Rushed and heated, his kisses taste like salt and sun and rain. Like home; a new one, completely the opposite of where you’d originally come from, but still somehow everything you’d ever needed. 

It’s funny how things work out like that. 

Before you can take another breath, he begins walking you both backwards, his hands squeezing your ass before you both go toppling onto the bed. As soon as you land and arch yourself beneath him, his kisses shift down your jaw to your neck, his teeth gently scraping against the delicate skin there. 

“Christ, you smell incredible…” he groans deeply, his hands sliding up over your hips and underneath your tank top. 

You let out a soft hum, grinning as he pushes the tank top up over your breasts, and then gasping as his lips find your nipple. Conrad was always a hungry man, but never more so than after a win like today. 

“It’s called showering, Captain. You should try it sometime…” 

His smirk grows exponentially after you tease him, devilish and intense as he crawls back up to let his lips hover just a heated breath above yours. 

“Perhaps you should’ve waited for me…washed my back, while I washed yours…” he groans, the sound of it breathless and sinfully delirious already. For good measure, he rolls his hips in an enticing manner, slowly increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit. 

As if you needed any additional reasons to want him this badly. 

With each roll of his hips, you shudder in pleasure, the need at the apex of your thighs slowly drenching the fabric between you both. You need no further enticing and pull his face down, crushing his lips against yours in an even more desperate, more hurried kiss than before.

The next few moments are a flurry of breathless moans and needy groans. Two sets of hands work on one another’s clothing, pushing and pulling and stripping until you’re both as bare as the day each of you were born. 

And then suddenly, Conrad’s inside you. That familiar stretch graces you once more, kindly blessing the ever-present ache that’s existed ever since you first laid eyes on him. Your back arches further, the heels of your feet dig into his hips and you both moan in unison as he sinks in, burying himself all the way to the hilt. 

It isn’t the first time he’d had you, nor will it be the last, but it had been almost three whole days. Too long, practically a lifetime considering how good it always is - but even so, his pace is slow and languid, like he’s savoring it. He’s not a man drowning in a river after almost dying of thirst, but a man who’s been waiting patiently for a reward most definitely well-earned. 

You can’t help the gasping laugh that escapes in a sudden rush of endorphins. Your heart lurches in your chest and your pupils dilate until there’s just a sliver of color left around them. This is a reward, yes, but it’s also more than that - it’s a gift. 

Conrad, a dedicated and well-trained soldier until the very end, doesn’t miss a beat even after you laugh again and your arms tighten around his neck. He merely nips at your jaw while a curious smirk tugs at his cheeks, his hips continuing so smooth and fluid in their undulating. 

“Something funny, dear?” 

You gasp again as he punctuates that final word by slipping a large hand underneath your skull, cradling it gently and tilting it upwards. It’s a stunning move, making you feel so safe and small while he makes love to you. Your eyelids flicker, and he follows suit as you let out yet another breathless laugh. 

“It’s Christmas…” you murmur, almost in a daze. You’re not even sure if the words are audible as a rush of light crashes over you. 

“Is it now?” Conrad grins, mistakenly taking your statement as one of pure praise instead of just a reflection of today’s date. He thrusts harder, and lets out a deep groan as your muscles tighten in response. 

You moan again and start to feel like you’re floating. Consistent breaths in and out are a thing of the past, but still, you manage a frenzied response. You want him to know the truth, to celebrate the special day with him.

“No - it’s…oh, God, fuck - the 25th! It’s the 25th…”

Conrad’s moaning along with you, drowning out any response in a sea of incoherence. His hips thrust deeper, the taut muscles of his back flexing and contracting in a quick rhythm underneath your hands. His forehead falls against yours, his gasps and exhales heavily washing over your cheeks and lips and nose. He’s starting to lose his mind, and the last thing you can see clearly are his eyes rolling back into his head. 

It’s so incredibly hot when he loses control, the shameless passion he openly shows to you and only you. It’s the complete opposite of the winter wonderland you were dreaming of earlier. But when your thighs start to shake, he changes the angle of his thrusts - and then all of a sudden, it finally feels like Christmas. 

Usually when you come, he makes you see stars, but not tonight. This time, you see Christmas lights - reds and whites and greens and blues all sparkling and dancing together in unison. The room instantaneously becomes a frigid, barren landscape and Conrad is the only warm thing left in existence, his fire crackling and popping against the deep and endless midnight sky. 

Keeping you safe inside the great big dark unknown. A guiding light towards the brighter days lingering ahead. 

You whimper as you come, from the sheer force of it, and Conrad tips right over the edge with you. His back arches to push himself deeper, his hips move frantically, pushing and pulling his cock over and over between your tight muscles like he just can’t help himself. 

And why shouldn’t he? He performed a Christmas miracle yesterday. 

It all feels like a dream, but eventually, Conrad’s hips slow, and he collapses on top of you. For a moment, neither of you can move, other than gasping for breath and whimpering with each uncontrollable twitch and spasm of every nerve and muscle. Slick skin marks both the mutual satisfaction and the need for another shower - and as long as you don’t pass out beforehand, this time you’d be honored to wash Conrad’s back for him. 

Recovery takes longer than usual. Maybe it’s the culmination of the previous few days, the heat, the date; maybe it’s the reflection of the past year as a whole, or the hopeful promises of what the next one might bring. But when Conrad adjusts, and then tightens, his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and taking in a deep breath, you know it’s all of the above.

You hug him tighter in return. You press your lips to his ear, his jaw, his hair. Anywhere you can reach, anything that’s him. He’s made your year an incredible one, and you were sure that the next one was going to be even better. 

Conrad lets out a deep, peaceful hum. One that reverberates deep into your heart and makes it skip a beat. He tilts his head and presses a deep, tender kiss to your cheek. 

“Is it really the 25th?” he murmurs softly. 

“Yeah, it is…” you laugh, turning your head and nuzzling your face against his. “Merry Christmas, Conrad…”

He chuckles and returns the sweet gesture, adding in a tender caress of your jaw. His eyes flicker up and then down your face, examining and completely mesmerized by everything he finds. Everything you feel about him, he returns tenfold, and it shows in every flicker of light in his eyes, mesmerizing and breathtaking.

“Merry Christmas, darling…”

━━━ · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ● · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ━━━

Click here to be added to my James Conrad fic tag list! 💙

[holdmytesseract]

Hot Temper

James Conrad x fem!Reader

Summary: You are expecting Conrad to come to your tent by nightfall. When he does, things escalate pretty quickly.

Based on this lil' drabble (Part Two)!

Warnings: this is kinda steamy, swear words, smuttish, suggestive smut, dom!James Conrad? It's also a biiit dark.

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: Well... This one is a small birthday present for my wonderful friend @fictive-sl0th ! ☺️ Happy belated Birthday, boo! ❤ I wish you all the best! Never forget how amazing you are, you awesome person, you! I'm so happy I can call you my friend. Love you! ❤

I really hope you like this! ☺️

Tagging: @lulubelle814 @km-ffluv @eleniblue @muddyorbs @loz-3 @vbecker10 @jennyggggrrr @mochie85 @chantsdemarins @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @loki-laufeyson-1054 @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vanilla-daydreaming @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @evelyn-kingsley @the-princess-of-loki @acefeather2002

Masterlist

Your nerves were on edge after you collided with Captain Conrad in that heated argument a few hours ago; sizzling with anger and frustration - but also desire and lust. It was an ongoing battle within your system. Which side was going to win, you couldn't tell.

Now you sat on the cot inside your tent, literally staring holes into the flap which marked the entrance. The sinking sun bathed everything in an orange, red light; telling you that it was almost time. You've made good work the rest of the day in avoiding the asshole James Conrad was, but now, after returning to your tent for the night and knowing what was most likely going to happen, you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on your body. It was strange, wasn't it? You never hated a man - a person, as much as you hated Captain Conrad, and yet he was all you ever desired. Either something was wrong with you, or you just liked hot guys with a shitty personality. You believed it was the second option, but who knew?

Narrowing your eyes, you switched on the lamp, standing on the ground beside your cot and took a look on your wrist watch. Time. It was time. Where is this son of a bitch? You thought. I swear, if he doesn't show up, I'll kick him in the- You weren't able to finish your thoughts, as the flap of the tent flew open, revealing the man you had waited for. The light of his lamp illuminated his stupid, handsome face. Cautiously - like a lion observing his prey, he graciously entered the tent, zipping the flap behind him shut. He hadn't been even a minute inside the tight space which was your tent, when you already felt it... The tension. Intense, angry and undeniably sexual. You were sure that it must be cuttable with a knife.

Not averting his eyes for even a second, James squatted down to place his lamp on the ground. The muscles in his thick thighs strained the fabric of his jeans, as he did so, spreading his legs almost sluttishly. Pathetic, you thought. Putting on a show. For what? To impress me? You had to suppress the scoff, which threatened to leave your lips. Instead, you opted for words. "You came. Why?" You asked nonchalantly, without any emotion. Just stating the facts. A grin spread on James's face, as he shook his head and licked his lips. A grin you wished, once again to sweep off his face. "You told me to, didn't you, Y/L/N? Can't you remember? Already suffering from memory loss?" You narrowed your eyes and leaned forwards in an almost threatening manner. "Careful, Conrad. Thin ice. Very thin ice. I would watch my mouth if I were you-" "Or what?" He interrupted you, spitefully. "Are you going to slap me again?" This time, you couldn't suppress the scoff to leave your mouth. Licking your lips, you chuckled. "You really enjoy this, don't you? Being an arrogant, selfish, annoying asshole? Driving people crazy?" Now it was James's turn to laugh you in the face. "I don't. I am not the one to blame, just because you have a short fuse - and that you find me irresistibly. All you want to do is fuck me, isn't it?"

And at those words, you saw red again; losing it. A low growl left your lips, before you lunged out - ready to slap him again. Your palm was mere inches away from hitting the skin of his cheek, when he caught your hand mid-air. His big hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, keeping you from hitting him. It caught you off guard. You didn't see that coming. "Nuh.Uh. Not this time, Y/L/N." The way he rolled your last name off his tongue - so deep, so dark, so sexy, caused your knees to almost buckle and you felt arousal flooding your veins. James used your moment of shock, of course, reached quickly for your other wrist and before you could even react, had he pinned you down on the cot with his strong, muscular body hovering above yours. Once your brain had caught up with what was going on, you started to squirm, trying to get free. A part of your brain screamed at you why the hell you were fighting back, because James was right. You wanted this. "Not so snappy anymore, are we?" Another growl left your lips, before your angry eyes locked with his goddamn beautiful baby blues. "Fuck you, Conrad!" You spat into his face; voice laced with venom. The man chuckled dangerously; licking his lips. "Don't worry, darling... You get what you want."

Demandingly, Conrad nudged your legs with his knees, commanding you to open them. You wanted to. Oh, of course you wanted to. So, you let your legs fall open for him to kneel in between them - what James immediately did. A breathless laugh escaped his mouth. "I knew it. This was all you wanted from the very beginning, isn't it? Me between your legs?" A strangled moan slipped past your lips at those words; unable to suppress it. "You are so needy for me, aren't you? Desperate for me to fucking ruin you." You couldn't even put in words how much this turned you on. It was pathetic. "Must be really exhausting to hate me, but at the same time wanting to fuck me. How I get you all hot and bothered just with one snap of my finger…" You weren't able to answer something. He had you. You were literal putty in his hands. "Am I right?" He asked, but you didn't answer, just averted your eyes. You hated the effect he had on you. Bu the Captain didn't like it, when somebody wasn't answering, when he had asked a question, so he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and made you look at him. "Am. I. Right?" He asked again, pointing out every word. As if to underline his words even more, he bucked his hips against yours, causing you to gasp. "Answer me." "Yes," you said between gritted teeth. "Good girl." As a reward, he leaned down, letting his lips hover above yours for a second - So close, so close. - before he connected them in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. After that kiss, you were gone. Lost in the man you actually despised so much. Or... Wanted to despise so much?

Teeth clashed together, tongues were intertwined, as you both tore at each other clothes, desperately trying to get them off. It wasn't about love or feelings, no. This sexual encounter was primal, needy and rough. Your hands raked all over James's bare, strong back; fingernails leaving red marks and scratches on their way, when he finally gifted you the pleasure you desired so much. The sound of skin colliding with skin was the only sound which filled the deadly silence of the night, accompanied with yours and James's whiny breathes and moans. You had awoken the animal within Captain Conrad - and you didn't regret it for even a second, when he ruined you for every man to follow.

[joyful-enchantress]

Holy fuuuucccckkkkk 🥵🥵

I need an ice bath after this fic. It was everything I didn’t even realize I needed in my life

I need a domineering James Conrad to tell me what to do next, please? I also wouldn’t mind 5 orgasms, either…

Damn, this fic was delicious! And the touch of tenderness at the end, with him getting all bashful about how stern he was, was the perfect sweet ending to the feast.

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH OMG. Thank you for this!

Captain's Orders

Summary: You and James Conrad do not get along. You find him arrogant and obnoxious; he thinks you are disrespectful and reckless. You would be glad to be rid of him as soon as the Skull Island mission concludes. Unfortunately for you, there's a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine that you have to contend with…and you are stuck with James Conrad for the duration.

And in addition to being arrogant and obnoxious, Conrad is also extremely attractive…and your close quarters make it a lot harder to hide the fact that you want him.

Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, cunnilingus, enemies to lovers, Dom/sub undertones (or overtones, honestly), sir kink, teasing, masturbation, quarantine (but just as a plot device, no one actually gets sick),

A/N: I am not particularly religious, but I do feel like my file has been flagged for horny purgatory based on the contents of this fic. This is what I have sacrificed for my craft.

You were so focused on getting to Skull Island that you didn’t really give much thought to what the return might be like, apart from your general desire to make it back alive and unharmed. 

You are fairly certain that no one had mentioned a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine, though.

“It’s standard procedure,” you’re told by an unsmiling medic in a hazmat suit. “Don’t want you bringing back any novel illnesses.”

Fine. That’s sensible. You can live with that.

Or you could have, had it not been for the fact that there were a limited number of quarantine units available and for whatever godforsaken reason, it had taken them two fucking hours to finish your processing. This would have been fine, except by that point, there’s only one unit left for two people. 

And one of those people is James Conrad.

You and Conrad have been butting heads since before you shipped off to Skull Island. You’ll fully admit that he’s very capable…but he just has this way of saying things that sets your teeth on edge. If you’re being charitable, you’d call this quality self-assuredness; most of the time, you call it arrogance. And apparently, there’s something about you that is equally frustrating to him because the entire mission had been a stream of bickering that was only interrupted by an island that seemed to be doing its level best to kill you.

And if that wasn’t complicated enough, there’s also this: your annoyance with James Conrad is almost constantly warring with the fact that you desperately want to fuck him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s fit and insists on wearing a t-shirt that may as well be made of shrink wrap from the way it clings to his muscles. And for every irritating and self righteous thing that comes out of his mouth, there’s also the fact that he’s got that deep, smoother-than-smooth voice that you suspect would sound particularly delectable uttering absolute filth as he fucks you from behind (or from any position, really. You’re not picky).

Sometimes you think he might return your interest, but it’s hard to tell. He’ll be sneering and dismissive one moment and the next, you’ll catch him staring at your mouth in the middle of an argument. You suspect that you have a million tells like that—it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, especially in that t-shirt. And those jeans. (God, those jeans. You want to peel those jeans off his body with your teeth).

The idea of no longer having to deal with him or navigate those feelings is relief tinged with a lot of disappointment. He’s a pain in the ass…but he’s a pain in the ass who you desperately want to fuck. The possibility of resolving that tension is too tempting to ignore.

So the news that you’re going to be stuck with him for another seventy-two hours in a living space designed for one person is as thrilling as it is profoundly irritating.

Whether you’ll end this quarantine fucking each other or killing each other remains to be seen.

“They never said anything about this,” you grouse to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor.

“They absolutely did.” Conrad gives you that patronizing, know-it-all look that has been grating on your last nerve for the entirety of your acquaintance.

“I wasn’t actually talking to you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you were talking to yourself, then? Should I flag that as a symptom or were you like this before?”

You sigh and give him your best scowl. “Fuck off, Conrad.”

The smirk doesn’t go away. “I would if I could, darling.”

You roll your eyes, even as that word—darling—draws goosebumps up your spine. You try and fail not to think of how that word might sound falling from his lips as he fucks you into the mattress.

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know how I’m meant to make it through seventy-two hours of this.”

Conrad manages an expression that’s both neutral and smug, which is somehow more infuriating than if he’d just been smug. 

“Would you like the shower first?” he asks with the feigned sort of politeness that you use when you’re trying to change the subject because the other person’s being unreasonable. And it’s the sort of fake politeness that you can’t call him on because you’ll just look crazy, which is even more irritating.

You force a mild, totally unbothered smile. “You can go ahead.”

You did this to prove a point (you’re not sure what point), but you regret it almost as soon as the bathroom door shuts behind him. You’re covered in several days’ worth of dirt, sweat, and probably a little bit of blood and monster goo, which limits you to sitting in the metal folding chair that’s propped in the corner like an afterthought. One of the caps on the legs is missing and it wobbles slightly every time you shift your weight.

The rest of the quarantine unit isn’t much better than that shitty folding chair. It has the sort of blandly institutional aesthetic you’d expect from the military and everything is a rather unpleasant shade of beige or brown—the tile on the floor, the paneled walls, the furniture. There’s a ratty couch that boasts a spring making its way through the middle seat, though an attempt has been made to hide it with a bit of duct tape gone gummy with grime at the edges. They’d left a second stack of blankets and sheets on the couch, but the longer you look at it, the more certain you are that it’s not fit for human use. Between that couch and the jungle floor, you think you’d take the jungle floor.

You turn your gaze to the bed. It’s a double and it looks decently clean and comfortable. It would probably make sense to just share the bed, rather than subjecting either one of you to the couch.

The thought sends goosebumps up your spine. It’s a practical suggestion, certainly. But there are other benefits.

Conrad emerges from the bathroom after twenty minutes, freshly shaved and showered and wearing an undershirt that somehow seems tighter than that stupid t-shirt he’d been wearing on Skull Island.

You hastily avert your eyes and go to retrieve your bag. 

“Shall we flip for the bed?” says Conrad, setting his own bag on the couch.

You sigh heavily as you shoulder your bag. “It pains me to say this, but we should share it.”

Conrad looks mildly surprised, but doesn’t immediately counter with something smug. “Share it?”

“We’ve been sleeping on jungle floors for days and that couch looks like it’s breeding a new species of flea. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, no one has to suffer. Okay?”

He thinks for a moment and then nods. “Okay.”

You hurry into the bathroom before you get anymore distracted by how he looks in that damn undershirt. 

You shut the door behind you and are immediately confronted with a different challenge. The steam from his shower lingers. Everything smells like his soap and shaving cream. It’s annoying. 

And also inconveniently hot.

Your mind wanders to how he looked just moments ago, clean-shaven and hair damp, wearing that stupidly tight undershirt. And from there you can’t help but think of how he looked on the island covered in dirt and sweat, the smug curl of his lips as he said something to put you in your place, the steely flint of his eyes when you talked back, his fucking biceps in those goddamn sleeves. (Is it normal that you want to bite his biceps?)

And now you’re undressing in a room that smells like him and he’s in the other room looking like that…

By the time the water is running and heated up, you are resigned to the fact that this shower is going to end with you silently getting yourself off to the thought of James Conrad.

You’re not so far gone that you trust there’s enough hot water for both tasks, though, and you grudgingly admit that the actual shower part is most important, so you begin with that. You try not to think too much of Conrad—there will be time for that soon—but you become gradually more aroused as your shower progresses. Even the simple pass of your fingers against your skin is heightened, your body gradually growing warm and restless with wanting.

Finally, you finish washing and lean back against the shower wall. The water is starting to cool slightly, but not enough to worry you. You turn the tap further to the left and there’s a wave of warmer water. Perfect.

You slide your fingers between your legs. It’s going to be quick, you can tell that already. Conrad appears in your mind as you roll your fingers over your slick clit. You wonder if he’s as pent up as you are, if he got himself off in the same shower. Or god, what if he somehow worked out what you’re doing right now? What if he came into the bathroom and yanked the shower curtain aside and told you off for touching yourself without him? You could imagine his stern look as he stripped down, maybe he’d say something sexy like, “if you’re going to act like a slut, you should have the decency to invite me to join in—”

The water abruptly goes cold. You gasp and slam the tap off.

Fuck. It fucking figures.

You briefly consider staying in the shower and simply finishing the job, but your skin is quickly chilling as the steam leaves the shower and it’s enough to kind of kill the mood, even though your cunt is still pulsing. So you dry off and pull on your pajamas, still pent up and aching.

Conrad is in bed and under the blankets when you return, his impossibly broad back already facing your side of the bed. You turn down the covers on your side, trying not to let on to the fact that your pussy is throbbing or that the man lying next to you in bed is prompting some of the filthiest thoughts you’ve had in a while.

You situate yourself on your side, facing your back towards him. You’re not touching, but you can still feel the heat radiating off him, which also doesn’t do any favors for the ache between your legs.

“I’m turning off the light.”

“All right.”

You switch off the lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness.

You settle back down against your pillow. The combination of a comfortable bed after days of sleeping on the ground should be enough to knock you out fairly quickly.

Instead, you find yourself unable to think of anything other than the warm, pulsing ache between your thighs and what it would be like to have Conrad resolve that for you. He’d probably be a good fuck—he’s that particular combination of stern and capable that sets your nerves ablaze. His body is annoyingly perfect and he’d probably feel annoyingly good. Maybe you wouldn’t mind him being chivalrous if chivalrous meant burying his face between your thighs or fucking you so hard you see stars.

You stare at the illuminated hand of the alarm clock, feeling yourself grow wetter and more awake with every passing second. If you could get yourself off, you’d fall right asleep. You should’ve just pushed through the chill of the shower. If you’d done that, you’d be sated and sleeping right now, not staring at the clock and listening to Conrad’s even breathing beside you.

He’d fallen asleep rather quickly, you note sourly. Perhaps he’d been able to take advantage of the full hot water tank and get himself off in the shower. Your mind immediately conjures the scene, Conrad standing in a spray of water, leisurely pumping his cock, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Biting his fist to keep quiet as he comes—

Fuck. None of this is helping you.

You stare at the clock. It’s been just over an hour.

You shift slightly, your cunt aching. Maybe you could just…

You should dismiss the thought automatically: it would be ridiculous to get yourself off here, even if he is asleep.

But is he really going to know?

That should also be a nonstarter—you’re not some kind of creeping pervert, after all. But you just spent days on a deadly jungle mission that included a significant amount of time being sexually frustrated by a man who looks like he strolled in from a Michelangelo painting. You’re really fucking horny and it would be so easy to take care of the ache that’s settled so heavily in your hips. Conrad wouldn’t know. You would be discreet.

You don’t realize you’ve made your decision until you start sliding your hand into your sleep shorts.

You inhale sharply as your fingers graze your clit. It’s ridiculous that such an infuriating man has made you this wet, this sensitive. It’ll probably be quick—maybe five minutes at most. 

Your lips part as you fall into a familiar rhythm, your mind drifting back to Conrad. You imagine him watching you, telling you what to do, calling you a good girl, ordering you to come. You’re starting to tense, desire coiling tight in your hips. He’d probably make you come more than once—on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You’re not sure which one you want most, though you suspect he excels at all methods. Your breath quickens. Just another minute and you’ll come. Your pussy is aching so badly and your fingers feel so good and you’re so close to getting what you need. Just a little bit more and you’ll finally get a little relief—

“I know what you’re doing.” Conrad’s voice comes from the other side of the bed.

Shit.

You freeze, your hand stilling between your legs. You’d thought he was asleep and you’d believed it so completely that you hadn’t even considered trying to come up with a graceful exit strategy. You carefully ease your hand out of your shorts.

“What’s that?” you say, trying to make your voice sound sleepy, like he’d just woken you up and not caught you with your hand down your shorts.

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone is sharp and uncompromising, and it plucks at something deep in your belly.

“Conrad, wait—”

You can tell he’s sitting up, the mattress shifting slightly. You sit up as well, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s dark and you can’t quite get a read on him—not that you’d know how to fix it if you could.

But then his fingers close around your wrist and he brings your slick fingers up to his mouth. 

Oh.

His lips close on the tip of your index finger, his tongue tasting the pad of your fingertip as he sucks it deeper into the heat of his mouth. You take in a shaky breath as burning desire rolls through you like molten lava.

“You taste desperate,” he says, releasing your finger. “Do you really need to come that badly? Is that why you’ve been such a brat?”

You didn’t think it was possible to be more turned on, but your cunt is now throbbing with an urgency that you’ve never felt before. It’s like all those days of quiet desperation suddenly caught up with you and now the only thing you can think of is his touch.

“Answer me,” he says, voice growing stern.

You lick your lips. “Yeah…I—I need to come. Badly.”

“I see.” His thumb traces a circle on the palm of your hand and then on the inside of your wrist. “And you’d like me to help you with that, is that it?”

There’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then you should start calling me sir.”

Your capacity for rational thought evaporates instantly. His words and calm control have you weak kneed and aching, beholden to wants that you’ve been denying yourself for days and needs that you’ve ignored for quite a lot longer. Pure desire roars through your body, pooling in your hips, waiting to be properly unleashed.

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

You feel the mattress shift again and the lamp on the bedside table clicks on.

Blinking against the light, you sit up, your eyes locked on him as he walks to your side of the bed.

“You have been insubordinate, impertinent, reckless…utterly infuriating.” His gaze roves over your body and he licks his lips. “If there’s one thing you learn from tonight, it’s going to be how to take a fucking order.”

Reflexively, you open your mouth to snap back at him before you realize what you’re doing and promptly shut it again.

Conrad’s eyes shine like a cat that’s just cornered a mouse. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble if you’re not careful, sweetheart. Are you going to behave or do I need to find something to keep it occupied?”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind doing what he’s implying, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable enough to make you cooperative. “I’ll be good,” you say, too quickly. “Sir,” you add.

His gaze is unreadable. “Undress.”

You quickly comply, pulling off your t-shirt followed by your sleep shorts and underwear. You resist the urge to squirm under the heavy weight of his gaze as it travels leisurely up the length of your naked body, the pulse between your thighs quickening as desire turns his eyes darker with every moment.

He sits down next to you on the bed. Your palms itch to touch him—to peel the stark white undershirt over his head and rake your hands over his chest, to rub your aching cunt against the steadily growing bulge in his boxers—but the look in his eyes and his stern words from earlier tell you that you need to wait for him to tell you what to do. You press your thighs together, trying to keep your aching need under control.

Almost subconsciously, your gaze drops to his lap and your lips part just slightly. His cock is straining against the fabric of his boxers, desperately hard. He may be acting all tough and stern, but he wants you—maybe even as much as you want him.

You sort of lose yourself in the moment and the sound of his low voice startles you. “You don’t deserve my cock yet.” His tone brooks no arguments, but your cunt aches all the more at the thought of not having him. 

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from his cock. “Yet?”

“Well,” he says, trailing a hand from your hip to your ribs, “that depends on how good you are, doesn’t it?”

“I can be good,” you say.

There’s a hint of mockery in his laugh that makes you want to talk back. Or fuck him—you’re not quite sure which. 

“You think you can be good? You’ve already forgotten your manners and I can tell you’re thinking about talking back.”

You can feel desperation start to claw from the ache in your hips. “I’m sorry, sir, I just—I really need to come.”

“Can’t even think straight,” he says, clicking his tongue. His gaze drops to your breasts and meanders down your body. “Show me your cunt.”

You spread your legs and bare yourself to him. His gaze is cool and impassive as he looks you over, lips parting slightly.

“Oh, you fucking need it,” he says quietly. “Look at your desperate little cunt, all wet and spread out for me like a treat.”

You can’t help it: you whine. Every inch of you is aching, yearning for relief.

Conrad looks unmoved. “You were being very wicked, weren’t you? Playing with your pretty pussy right next to me in bed and not letting me see.”

You nod, your heart racing. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He licks his lips. “Sorry’s not good enough, darling. Not with how fucking hard you’ve made me every goddamn day of this mission.” He finally raises his gaze to meet yours. “Touch yourself for me. Show me how you play with your needy cunt.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes, sir.”

You slide your fingers between your legs and hold his gaze until your eyes flutter shut at the first pass of your fingers against your throbbing clit. You didn’t think it was possible but you’re even wetter now than you were before. A moan falls from your lips, unguarded and wanton.

“That feel good?” His voice is a low rasp, eyes hooded.

“Yes, sir,” you gasp. 

“Look at how wet you are. It’s fucking obscene.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I need to come so bad.”

He chuckles, his eyes darkening as he watches you. “I know you do. But only good girls get to come and you’ve been such a fucking brat.”

You moan again, resisting the urge to whine as you change the rhythm of your fingers to press more indirectly on your clit. His words are already amplifying the rolling tension in your hips and if you’re not careful, it’ll send you over the edge too soon.

“I think you want to be a good girl, though,” he says. “You’re putting on such a nice little show for me. Do you like having me watch you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your hips roll with your hand. Your orgasm is starting to take shape, pleasure flickering in your core like a live wire. 

“You love this.” His eyes are hooded as his gaze roves openly over your body. “Being so filthy and showing me what you like. Getting that sweet cunt ready to be filled to the brim with my hard cock.”

Another whine falls from your lips.

“And you’re making such pretty little noises, too.” His smile turns sly. “That’s what gave you away, you know. You thought you were being so quiet and clever, but I could hear all those little gasps. And every one made me so. fucking. hard.”

You arch against the mattress, fingers pressing harder, your hips rolling. 

“I almost let you finish.” He smirks, licking his lips. “But I got greedy—I wanted to see you come, I wanted to hear you make more of those sweet noises while I made you beg for me.”

You are deliciously, unbearably close.

He is rapt by the sight of you, eyes hooded. “Are you about to come, darling?”

You nod, not quite able to speak.

His eyes darken and for a moment, you think he might let you come.

In hindsight, that was extremely wistful thinking.

“Stop.”

You freeze automatically, though your body is begging you to continue. You bring your gaze to Conrad’s and he stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to protest. “Hands above your head,” he says after a moment.

You obey automatically, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself from saying anything as your cunt pulses with a throbbing ache. God, you had been so close. Conrad licks his lips, a hungry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Is that all it takes to bring you to heel?” he says, eyes raking over your body. “Rubbing your needy little clit?”

You nod, your breath coming in sharp gasps. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, that would have saved me a lot of trouble had I known that.” He runs one warm palm along the inside of your thigh. “First time you gave me that bratty attitude, I would’ve bent you over and made you come until you were a whimpering mess.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and he gives you a slow, hungry smile.

“You put on a good show of being disobedient, but you fucking love being told what to do. Your pussy’s been dripping from the moment I told you to show me your cunt.”

His hand drifts further up your body, his thumb and index finger gently tracing the bend where your leg meets your hip. You try not to squirm as your cunt throbs harder at the nearness of his hand, but your breath stutters in your throat. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asks, fingers stroking your skin.

You swallow hard, desire burning in your hips. “Please, sir.”

A slight smirk plays at his lips. “You really are a filthy girl, aren’t you? I haven’t even kissed you yet and you’re begging me to play with your pussy.”

His large hand moves to cup your cunt, his fingertips teasing the very edges of your slit, but going no further. His eyes are locked with yours and the anticipation is making you tremble.

“Tell me what you need.” Conrad’s voice is practically a purr, soft and intimate. Filthy. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I—”

The tip of his middle finger presses gently between your folds, teasing your entrance. Your breath catches.

“Fuck, I—I need to come.”

He tuts, his hand unmoving. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“I want…I need you to touch me.” The words come out desperate and whiny, prompting another smirk from him. “Please, sir.”

He hums and presses the heel of his palm against your pubic mound so that it pulls at the hood of your clit—enough to tease, but not enough to provide relief. 

“Like this?” he asks innocently. The slight wry tilt of his lips tells you he knows the answer.

“I need more, sir.” You roll your hips up, trying to get more friction.

“More?” He swirls the tip of his finger around your entrance, still so far away from your aching clit. “How could you possibly need more?”

You bite back a whine of frustration. “My clit.”

“What about your clit?”

“I need you to touch my clit, sir.”

He licks his lips and slowly begins dragging his fingers along the length of your cunt. “You want me to touch your clit,” he says, like he’s making casual conversation. His fingertip trails up to your clit and pauses. “Like this?”

You bite back a frustrated whimper. “You need to rub it.”

He traces a slow circle on your clit and you let out a low moan. You know he’s not going to let you come any time soon, but it feels so amazing to finally be touched that you almost don’t care.

“Oh, I see,” he murmurs, his fingers easing into a slow, twisting rhythm,, “you want me to keep rubbing your clit until you come on my fingers.”

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

“Mmm, I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that easy, darling.”

“But I need it, sir.”

“I know you do, but you need to convince me that you can be a good girl.” He casts a greedy look down the length of your body. “Your pussy’s so fucking ready and we’ve barely started—you must have been having some very wicked thoughts.”

You nod. There’s no point in lying.

“What were you thinking of, you wicked, filthy girl? What got you so worked up and wet?”

“You.” This truth falls easily—almost too easily—from your lips.

“Yeah?” He’s already managed to find the perfect movement and pressure for your clit. “Be more specific.”

You take in a shaky breath. “I was—fuck—I was thinking about you touching me like this.”

“Surely that’s not all,” he says. “You’re much too wet for that to be all.”

“I…I tried touching myself in the shower. Before the hot water ran out.”

He laughs, low and hungry. “Oh, you’re even more wicked than I thought.” He rubs your clit firmly. “What were you thinking about in the shower?”

“I…fuck, just like that—I was thinking about what would happen if you walked in and caught me. What you’d do to me. What it’d feel like to take your orders.”

“What else?”

“I thought about you touching yourself. About how maybe you’d jerked off in the shower, too.” You moan and he slows his fingers slightly. “I thought about you ordering me to come, what it’d feel like to come all over your cock.”

“Awfully bold of you.” His eyes are hooded. “Do you think you’ve been good enough for me to let you come on my cock?”

You moan. “No, sir, I’ve been so bad.”

“That’s right.” His voice comes out like a purr, stern but pleased. “You’ve been a very bad, wicked girl. Touching yourself, playing with this wet pussy without sharing. You’re going to need to be very, very good before I even think about filling you up with my come.”

“Yes, sir.” 

He smirks again. “I have to say, I’m rather fond of this more agreeable side of you.” His gaze drags over your body again. “Tell me you like being my good girl.”

“I—”

His eyes are dancing like he knows that you’d rather not admit this.

You lick your lips. “I…I like being your good girl, sir.” You lean hard into the word sir and you’d wager that he notices based on the way his gaze intensifies.

“Does it make you wet when I tell you what to do?” 

You nod, trying to keep the remainder of your composure from fraying.

Conrad clicks his tongue. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Fuck.” You gasp, whimpering. He’s been slowly increasing his pace this whole time and you are getting dangerously close to coming. 

“Say it for me, sweetheart.” The low lilt of his voice runs in sharp contrast to the way he’s touching you.

“It…it makes me so wet—” You gasp, your words cutting off as your orgasm begins to crest. “Oh god.”

“Oh, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” He eases his hand away from you. “What a shame you didn’t do as I asked, you might have earned your release.”

It’s egregiously unfair, but before you can so much utter a whimper of protest, he’s bringing his mouth down on yours, tongue pushing easily past your lips. You moan into his mouth and his tongue delves deeper in response.

The simple pleasure of kissing him is far more intense than you expect and you can’t help shivering a little.

“Come here.” He gently maneuvers you so that you straddle his lap, the thick column of his cock pressing against your sopping cunt. A whimper catches in your throat and there’s a flicker of smugness in his eyes. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice low and a little raspy.

“Yeah.” The word comes out breathy and shaky. You roll your hips against him, but his hands quickly still you.

“Not yet. I want you to sit and just feel how much I want you.” He strokes your thighs and presses his mouth against your neck. “Feel how hard I am against your wet cunt.” His hands skim up your waist to cup your breasts. “Think about how good it’ll feel when I finally fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You tilt your head back and sigh as he expertly rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, gently tugging and pinching their sensitive skin until they pebble, hard and aching in his hands. His cock throbs against you.

“Did you feel my cock get harder when I started playing with your tits?” he murmurs against your neck as he starts to kiss a soft trail down your chest.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“It is requiring every ounce of my self-control to do this properly. If my cock was in charge of things, I would’ve fucked you the moment you walked out of the bathroom wearing those little shorts and no bra.”

He ends that confession by taking your right breast into his mouth, sucking hard at your nipple and teasing it with his teeth. You moan, arching your back and curling your hands into his hair, while his hard cock presses deliciously against your sopping cunt. You’re tempted by the knowledge that the friction of the thin fabric of his boxers paired with his hard cock underneath would be more than enough to get you off if he let you rut yourself against him. But there are too many risks with disobeying him right now and you’re far too horny to be able to tolerate the inevitable delay or denial that would likely follow that insubordination. So, instead, you try desperately not to squirm as he toys with your breasts, slowly driving your desire higher and higher.

He chuckles quietly against your breasts, almost as though he’s privy to this line of thought. “Oh sweetheart, you are making such a terrible mess. Look at this.”

He lifts his head from your breasts and shifts you in his lap so you can see the unmistakable wet spot on the front of his boxers, right where your pussy was pressed against his cock.

“That’s so fucking sexy,” he says, running a fingertip along the damp fabric. “You couldn’t help your pussy getting all wet while I played with your tits, could you?”

“No, sir. It felt so good.”

“I know it did. And it made me so hard to feel you soaking my cock like that.” He leans in and kisses you slowly, one hand still squeezing and toying with your breast. He draws back slightly and lets his voice drop down the octave. “I think it’s time for me to get undressed, though, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sir,” you say with a promptness that betrays your desperation.

He pulls his undershirt up and over his head and you have to restrain yourself from immediately plastering yourself against his chest. All of his stupidly tight shirts had not been lying: his chest is as beautifully sculpted as you suspected it would be. Your gaze is only torn away when he eases you off his lap to shuck off his boxers, revealing what might be the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. It is long and thick with a slight curve that you know is going to blow your mind later.

“Fuck.” The word falls from your lips before you can stop yourself as you stare shamelessly and openly.

“You like my cock?” His smirk is lazy, eyes hooded.

“You’re so big.” You say it almost automatically, without thinking about how it might inflate his already massive ego. 

He smirks again, licking his lips. “You gonna be able to take me?”

You nod earnestly. “Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you amend.

“Good girl.” He pats his thighs. “Sit just like you were before.”

You climb back into his lap, carefully straddling him so that your cunt sits against the length of his cock. You can’t help but whimper as the silky hardness of his cock presses against your aching cunt.

“Mmm, there we go.” His voice is low and soothing as your whole body shudders. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks at you with hooded eyes. “I love feeling your pussy on my cock. So warm and wet—and I bet you’re tight, too. Fucking perfect.”

He puts his hands on your hips and guides you against him. You suck in a sharp breath as your clit rubs against his shaft.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, rocking your hips against his. “You’re so wet you just slide right along my cock.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re making such a mess on my cock and I’m not even inside you.” He guides your hips just a little faster. “What’re you going to do when I fuck you properly, hm? Are you even going to be able to stand it?”

Pressure is quickly starting to build in your hips again—a lot more quickly than you expected. You grind your hips firmly against his cock. “Can I come, please? I’ve been so good and I need it so bad, sir.”

He shakes his head. “You’ll come when I say so.”

You give him your most innocent and demure look. “You could say so now, couldn’t you, sir?”

His gaze becomes stern. “Are you getting pert with me?”

You shake your head. “No, sir. I just want you to fuck me. I’m dripping. I need to come.”

He chuckles. “It makes me so hard to hear you talk like this. I love hearing how desperate and needy you are.” He kisses you fiercely, nipping hard at your bottom lip, his tongue stroking into your mouth as he rocks your hips in the same brisk rhythm.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Sir, please, I wanna come so bad.”

“Mmm, not yet, love.”

“What do I need to do, sir?”

This is the right question to ask, based on the way his eyes light up and then darken with hunger. “You made a terrible mess on my cock, didn’t you?”

You think you know where this is going and it thrills you. “Yes, sir.”

“You were rubbing your soaking cunt all over me like a needy little slut.” His eyes darken even more. “Good girls clean up their messes, don’t they, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He licks his lips. “I want you to get on your knees and clean up the mess you made on my cock, and then maybe I’ll think about letting you come.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath as more heat floods your cunt. “Yes, sir.”

You don’t drop your gaze as you slip off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling at his feet as he spreads his legs wide. You’re tempted to tease him—to press light, fleeting kisses against the tip of his cock or lightly flick your tongue against it before retreating, playing dumb when he calls you on it. But the reality is that your patience is running too thin and your need is too great to invite any further delay, even though you’d likely enjoy the stern rebuke that would follow.

So instead, you wrap your hand around his thick shaft and take him into your mouth.

He exhales deeply through his nose, his head tipping back and eyes fluttering shut as his sigh turns into a groan, as though he’s just sunk into a hot bath after a long day. He leans back on one hand and the other goes to the back of your head.

“You were thinking about being a brat just a moment ago, weren’t you?” he says. “Your eyes always give you away.”

You’re not quite sure if he’s displeased or not. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows in a silent question as you work his cock.

“Your mouth is good enough that I’m going to be a little more forgiving than I would be otherwise.” He gives you a lazy smirk, eyes slightly hazy with pleasure. “But I think you’re finally learning how to be a good girl and take my orders—and you fucking love it.”

You cast your eyes back down—you still don’t like admitting to that—and he chuckles almost fondly. You take him a little deeper in your mouth, lightly squeezing his shaft, letting a little moan escape your throat.

“Can you taste yourself on me?” His voice is a little raspy. You make a noise that approximates a yes.  “Yeah? You like that?”

You nod—it’s not a lie either. Something about the way that the salty sweet tang of your arousal pairs with the clean, musky taste of his cock conjures a particular flood of endorphins and serotonin, bringing still more slickness to your cunt.

“Fuck. I’m so tempted to come in your mouth.” He’s still in control, but his eyes are a little unfocused and there’s a slight hitch in his breath. “I’m going to save it for your cunt, but fuck, your mouth feels good.”

You drag your tongue along the slight indentation just below the tip of his cock and he inhales sharply, brows drawing together. You gently massage your tongue against that spot, occasionally alternating with sucking hard on the tip.

“Oh, you are such a fucking tease,” he bites out between groans, his hand firm on the back of your head. But he doesn’t push you off until a minute later, when his control of his composure is truly starting to fray. 

“Up.” He tugs you to your feet and pulls you back into his lap, making sure your legs are spread wide across his thighs. He slides his fingers between your folds, his eyes gleaming with raw greed. “You liked sucking me off. You’re even wetter than before—your pussy’s practically drooling.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I like making you feel good, sir.”

“Yeah?” His thumb glides up to lightly graze your clit while his index finger traces your entrance. “Should I make you feel good, too?”

You nod. “Please, sir.”

He slowly sinks his index finger inside you and you let out a low, wanton moan.

“Oh, you’re tight, love.” His voice is so soft, a sharp contrast to the noise you just made. His finger curls, rubbing against that soft aching spot inside you. “You really think your snug little pussy can take my big cock?”

You shiver, the muscles of your cunt tightening and flexing around his finger. “Please, sir. I fucking need it so bad. I need you to fuck me with your big, thick cock.”

He kisses you, his mouth soft and slow, almost sweet. He draws back, his forehead resting against yours. “Are you ready to come?” he murmurs, the softness of his voice belied by the fire in his eyes.

“Oh god, yes.” Your answer comes before you can even think about it. “Please, sir, I’m so fucking ready.”

“Yeah? You want me to take care of your needy cunt?”

You nod. “Yes, sir. Please. I’ve been so good for you.”

He hums. “You have been a very good girl for me. Taking my orders, sucking my cock.” His gaze is thoughtful, assessing—and still darkly hungry. “This is what I want: I want to make you come and I want you to scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel so good. I want them all to know who this sweet pussy belongs to, whose cock is ruining you for everyone else.”

You are desperate enough to agree to a lot, but this is exactly what you hoped he’d say. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes darken. “You keep calling me sir for now, but I want you to use my name when you come.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He presses a soft kiss against your lips. “Lie back on the bed.”

You climb on the bed and lie back as he settles himself between your legs, bringing your thighs over his shoulders. His thumbs spread you open, eyes gleaming with raw greed. You take a deep shuddering breath, biting back yet another embarrassing whine.

He leans in, inhaling deeply. “I have been absolutely dying for a taste of this pussy.”

Your legs are shaking. His mouth is so close that you can feel the heat of his breath.

“The moment we met, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until I made you come in my mouth.”

The tip of his tongue ghosts against your clit. It’s brief—barely a tap, not anywhere enough to provide anything resembling relief. Before you can do anything, he retreats.

He looks up at you, eyes dark and hungry. “Just as sweet as I thought. Sweeter, even.”

“Please,” you breathe.

The tip of his tongue grazes your clit again and withdraws.

You whimper. “James.”

This seems to move the needle. He sucks in a sharp breath and then the heat of his mouth is enveloping your aching clit.

His strategy before was to tease, to withhold; now, though, it’s as though he’s trying to make up for lost time. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, tracing brisk circles that leave you gasping. He slides a finger inside you, curling and stroking until your hips lift to meet him, until you’re wet enough to take a second one. His fingers are as clever as his tongue, quickly finding the right pace and curling and stroking in just the right way. If he told you he’d spent the last several years studying the exact way to get you off, you would believe him because that’s how attuned he is to your needs. No movement is wasted, every choice is deliberate, considered. You thought that being ruined for others was something of an exaggeration, but you can feel it starting to become your reality as he unwinds all the tension and teasing to what is sure to be a truly spectacular end.

“James.” His name falls from your lips without thought. He looks up at you, eyes blazing with want. You gasp, the tension in your hips tightening to that final point, your cunt desperately squeezing his fingers as your clit thrums in his mouth. “James, I’m gonna—”

The rest of your sentence is lost to the onslaught of your orgasm. The noise you make is so rough and primal that you would be embarrassed had you not completely abandoned your capacity to feel shame when you started calling him sir and begging for his cock. His tongue on your clit has set off a fountain of fizzing sparks that are only egged on by the way your cunt clenches around his thrusting fingers. Conrad groans into your cunt like this is just as enjoyable for him as it is for you, his pace and attention never faltering for a moment, as though his primary purpose is to devour and worship. Your back arches and you moan, your hands gripping the bedsheets and then his hair as you lose yourself to days of pent up energy.

He doesn’t stop, though, his mouth still massaging your clit and his fingers curling and stroking inside you. A third finger squeezes inside you and you moan at the stretch, feeling like it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. But soon enough, the waves of feeling that you thought had dispersed are gathering again, thrall to the tidal push and pull of his tongue and fingers. You cry out, back arching as you come again, harder than before, body quaking, cunt dripping, hands gripping his hair like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

He lets you come down fully this time, crawling up your body to kiss you once you catch your breath. “You taste so fucking sweet when you come.” His voice is a growl against your lips.

You wrap your legs around his waist, desperately grinding yourself against him. “Need you. Please.”

That cocky smirk is back. “You just came twice and you still want my cock?”

There’s no point in even trying to pretend otherwise. “I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I want you to claim me.”

“Yeah?” He shifts his weight slightly, reaching between you and rubbing the head of his cock in a slow circle on your clit. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”

“I need it.”

With agonizing slowness, he drags his cock down to your entrance. He presses ever so gently against you, just enough to make you feel how thick he is. “That enough for you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head vehemently. “I want you to fill me up and fuck me.”

“Fill you up and fuck you, hm?” He eases the tip of his cock inside you. “Like that?”

You shiver. “More.”

He inches forward. “Is this enough?” His smile is wicked.

“James, please.”

He chuckles, but he concedes at last. It’s a long, toe curling thrust before he bottoms out inside you, a tight fit that knocks the breath from your lungs in the most delicious way while the muscles of your cunt tighten and tremble around him.

Conrad groans deep and low, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fucking hell, you are tight, love.”

You are close to completely blissed out, but not so much that you miss this opportunity: “I’ll be even tighter if you make me come again.”

He smirks and rolls his hips once, nearly ungluing you as his cock seems to stroke every aching place inside of you. “If I make you come again? Sweetheart, we haven’t even started and you’re a fucking mess—I’m more concerned that you’re not going to be able to stop coming.”

You can’t resist a weak smirk, even as you’re slowly starting to unravel like he claims. “Right. So you should—oh, fuck yes—you should have no trouble meeting that challenge.”

He frowns, his expression going stern again in a way that makes you shiver. “You’re getting awfully mouthy. Am I going to have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

Despite your best efforts, desire floods your cunt and you clench around his cock. A sly, knowing smile pulls at his lips.

“You filthy girl, that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” He gives one gentle thrust that makes your toes curl.

You lick your lips. “What if I do?”

He smirks. “Well, that would be awfully convenient because I desperately need a mouthy slut to come on my cock until she learns her fucking lesson.” His hips snap hard against you and you moan. “You think you can do that?”

You’re utterly wrecked for him, but you can’t resist one last bit of snark: “Stop talking about it and find out.”

His smile is sharp and a little dangerous, but you love it. “You are such a fucking brat.”

You bite your lower lip and clench your muscles on his cock. “Fuck it out of me, then.”

“Oh, I’m going to.” He tries a few shallow thrusts, searching until his cock finally finds that spot inside you that makes you keen and draws a hungry smile on his lips. “That’s where you need me, hm? Right here?” 

“Yeah,” you whimper, running your nails up along his back. 

He works a hand between your legs, his thumb rolling over the hood of your clit, rubbing in time with each thrust of his hips.

“Oh god, James.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, devouring you with his gaze. “I wish you could see how fucking good you look taking my cock like this.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “I fucking love your cock.”

A low, pleased sound rumbles in his chest. “What do you love about my cock?”

“It’s so big. And thick.” You gasp, clenching as he thrusts into you. “And you know how to fuck me just right.”

“Mmm. This is what you needed, isn’t it? Someone who knows exactly how to take care of your needy little cunt and turn you into a good girl.”

You nod, your lips parting as he keeps hitting that spot inside you.

“You love this, don’t you? You love being my obedient little slut and letting me claim your dripping pussy with my big hard cock.”

You shudder. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes turn steely. “I asked you a question.”

Still more slickness rushes to your cunt. “Yes, I fucking love this, I love being your slut, I love it so much, god, I wanna come so bad.”

You’re close to coming, your cunt already starting to clench on his cock. Conrad’s fingers leave your clit and before you can complain, he’s guiding your hand to replace his. Your fingers automatically fall into a brisk rhythm, as he braces both arms on either side of you, trading his leisurely pace for steadier, firmer thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s what you needed,” he rasps as you moan. “Just a little more, just a little harder.”

“James.” Words are slightly beyond you now, but his name burns bright in your mind and on your lips.

“You gonna come on my cock, gorgeous?”

You nod and work your clit a little faster. You’re so close and he feels so good.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?”

You nod, a simple yes far beyond you right now.

“Then let me feel you come hard.���

It’s the final push that you need and you cry out as your fingers and his cock tip you headfirst into a toe curling orgasm.

“Good girl,” he purrs as you shake in his arms, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Christ, you feel too fucking good when you come. Your tight little pussy gets even tighter.”

“Keep going,” you gasp. “Keep going, please.”

“Oh, I’m not going to stop until I get my fill,” he murmurs. “Though you’re so fucking tight, I don’t even know if there will be room for my come.”

He has one of the filthiest mouths you’ve ever heard and it’s doing things to your body that you’ve never experienced before.

“You love it when I talk to you like this, don’t you?” he drawls with a bit of a smirk. “Every time I say something filthy to you, I feel you clench on my cock.” His eyes get darker and you know he’s about to up the ante. “But I noticed that I tend to get the strongest reactions when I call you my good girl…”

You would like to be able to deny this, but it’s unmistakable: your cunt clamps down hard on his cock.

He grins. “Or when I call you my slut.”

Your cunt clenches again and he smirks.

“So which is it, do you think?” His hips thrust just a little harder. “Do you want to be my good girl or my slut?”

“Both,” you breathe. Your brow furrows and your lips part—he’s hitting that tender spot inside you and you feel yourself starting to tense in a very telling way. “Oh god, James.”

“Oh yes, you’re about to come again, you filthy girl.” He says this confidently and increases his pace just slightly. “You really are a slut, aren’t you? You just can’t get enough of my cock.”

You have rapidly ascended to the point where you can only manage an affirmative whimper and not actual words.

Conrad smiles. “Now be a good girl and make a mess on my cock like a perfect little slut.”

You arch, fingernails digging into his back and a sharp cry falling from your lips as you come for him, your whole body shaking with effort.

“Fucking hell.” He’s slowed his pace slightly, waiting for you to catch your breath before rolling the two of you over so he lies on his back. “Go on,” he says, his gaze dragging appreciatively over your body, “ride my cock and give me a little show.”

“Yes, sir.” You roll your hips, searching out that angle he’d been teasing you with earlier. You begin to ride him as you find it, letting out a low moan as you tilt your head back. You’re in that heady space where it’s easy to keep coming with the right stimulation and Conrad’s cock and filthy mouth are insanely well suited to that purpose.

“Good girl.” His voice is a low rasp. “You gonna come on my cock again?”

You nod and guide his hand to your clit. “Help me out.”

“You’re getting bold.” He smirks, but his fingers start working your clit. You roll your hips and arch your back, running your hands down your thighs all the way up to cup your breasts.

Conrad is rapt as he watches you ride him, his fingers still working your clit. “I wish you could see how fucking beautiful you are right now. Absolutely stunning.”

You whimper, rocking your hips just a little faster. You squeeze your nipples, plucking at the sensitive skin.

“Oh, that’s it, take what you need. Your needy cunt needs relief, doesn’t it? You’ve been such a good girl tonight and good girls get to come on my cock as much as they can.”

You shudder, your cunt clenching hard on his cock.

“I think my cock was made for your pussy. You feel so fucking good.” He groans, his hips rocking up into you. “I’m not gonna be able to hold off when you come this time. The minute I feel you start to come, I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Yes.” You’re shaking now, brow furrowing as you feel your orgasm rise inside you. “Oh, god, yes.”

“Oh, you’re fucking close.” His fingers press more firmly on your clit. “Come for me, gorgeous, come on my cock so I can fill you up.”

With his words, your orgasm blossoms in your belly, your cunt clenching hard on his cock. Conrad groans, his eyes fluttering shut as you ride him.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” His hips drive up into you a little harder as he starts chasing his own high.

You lean down, pressing your chest against his as you keep riding the pulsing waves of pleasure. He grabs your ass with both hands and presses his feet flat against the mattress, giving him enough leverage to thrust up into you at a wicked fast pace. You moan as his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you once again.

His jaw is tight as he fucks you hard, but his lips start to part the closer he gets.

“Come for me,” you murmur. “I’ve wanted this for days. Let me see you come.” You lower your voice further. “I want you to claim me, James. Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Fuck. Yes—fuck, fuck, fu—” His words give way to a gasp and then a low groan that sounds like pure bliss as he spills inside you.

His hips roll against you for a while as he rides out his orgasm, his whole body shuddering with pleasure. “That’s so fucking good,” he murmurs, his words slurring just slightly as his hips begin to slow. “Fuck, I needed that.”

You intend to sit up, to give him a little space, but instead, he pulls you into a deep and slow kiss, one that surprises you with its tenderness. His cock throbs inside you still, but you don’t mind the closeness. He strokes his hand up your spine and back down and you’re tempted to purr like a cat.

His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw to your ear and then your neck. 

It’s like this for a while—soft searching kisses, his large hands caressing your bare skin, your hands tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He’s the first to get up, stumbling to the bathroom for a damp washcloth, cleaning the two of you up with a tenderness you don’t quite expect.

He returns to bed a few minutes later and you both lie there, face-to-face. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both consider the weight of what you’ve just done and what it means going forward.

Anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach as you stare at his face. You know what you want; you just don’t know whether it’s in reach.

Conrad is the first to speak.

“In hindsight,” he says, propping his head up with his hand, “we probably should have just done that to begin with.”

A relieved, breathy laugh tumbles from your lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

His eyebrows lift and his face falls into an expression of playful surprise. “Did you just voluntarily admit that I’m right?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Oh spare me.”

“No, I mean, I thought my cock was good, but not on the order of performing miracles—”

You swat at him. “You’re making me sound far more unreasonable than I am.”

He grins and loops an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Mmm, I suppose I might have exaggerated slightly.”

“A little more than slightly.”

He shrugs and gives you another easy smile. “If you want to get technical.”

You look up at him, your heart beating fast. His eyes look particularly blue in this light—almost aquamarine. He examines your face carefully, one hand tracing the line of your jaw.

“So is this a truce or do you still hate me?” You don’t plan to ask this question until you find yourself saying it out loud.

Conrad frowns, a flicker of confusion lighting up his eyes. “I never hated you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“I found you extremely frustrating,” he says, still tracing his finger along your cheek. “A bit stubborn and hard-headed. Wildly attractive to an inconvenient and distracting degree. But I never hated you.”

Your stomach flips. “I suppose I should also confess that I didn’t hate you either.”

“Not even a little?” His expression is gently teasing and it warms you in a way that you don’t expect.

“I mean, you could be a little bit of a jerk,” you say. “And you pissed me off a lot. But mostly, I was just thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you.”

“Well,” he says, his fingertips still stroking your cheek, “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

“Me too.”

There’s a comfortable, easy silence. You feel sated and pleasantly sleepy.

“So,” says Conrad, “do you think I might take you out to dinner once this is all over?”

You offer him a slow smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He traces his finger along your neck and down to your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “I suppose until then we’re just going to have to use this time to work out the remainder of our sexual frustration.”

You smile, even as your stomach flips. “I mean, there’s quite a lot to work out.”

“It may take months,” he says solemnly and you laugh.

There’s another comfortable beat of quiet.

He clears his throat. “I’m, ah, not always quite so stern during sex.” There’s a faint flush to his cheeks and you can’t help but find it endearing. 

“I mean…I really liked it,” you say, your cheeks burning just a little. “I’m fine mixing it up a bit from time to time, but I also don’t have any issue with how you were tonight.” You give him a wry smirk. “I might not always be quite as cooperative, though.”

His gaze darkens just slightly. “Then I’ll just have to come up with some appropriate punishments, won’t I?”

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

He smiles and pulls you flush against him. Somehow, you don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

[muddyorbsblr]

friday nights & hot dates [kinktober 2023: slow & soft]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: A few months after he first showed up at your house to keep you company on your birthday, Conrad finally tells you how he feels. | sequel to 'you deserve better'

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k [please prepare drinkies & snacks accordingly]

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, get on outta here i won't ask twice); unprotected p in v sex; language; insecure reader; the smut scene is 1.3k words long idek if i should say sorry for this… [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad; a touch of aftercare in the end 😳🫠

Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "Once he realized what you were about to do" and ends at "We're nowhere near done"

A loud chime boomed across the Monarch training field, announcing the top of the hour. The setting sun only barely blocked by the visor atop former Captain James Conrad's head and doing a piss poor job of straining his eyes as he watched on the first troop of soldiers assigned to the lab.

He'd been tasked to train the few handfuls of privates to be able to face the challenges that Skull Island would have in store for them throughout subsequent missions. They were decent enough, but to handle both navigating the hostile, monstrous terrain and serving as protective detail for the scientists on their tasks to obtain more samples and document its ecosystem, they would need to be exemplary. At the top of their game.

Especially if they are to be protecting Y/N, he thought to himself. Then again, he probably wouldn't let any of them anywhere near you. He would see to your protection personally. Make sure that there was little to no room for error when it came to your safety.

But they all had a long way to go before he decreed any of them ready for the field. And none of them would be closing the gap on their endurance or their agility within the next few minutes. The chime that rung out through the field not only signaled the top of the hour, but the end of your own work day, and he wanted to at least see you off to your ride home. Perhaps walk with you to the pick-up point.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he called out to the privates, everyone standing to attention at his word. "We'll resume on Monday morning. Get adequate rest this weekend."

He took off his training jacket and his visor, haphazardly running his hand through his short cropped hair. While he took a quick inventory of his belongings before heading off to your lab, one of the women privates approached him.

"Do you need anything, Pearson?"

She began to shuffle her stance, somewhat incapable of meeting his gaze as she spoke to him. "The other guys and I were going to check out the new Mexican place that opened up a few blocks from here. I was--I mean we were wondering if you'd like to join us?"

Pearson straightened her stance in a particular manner, jutting her chest out in a blatantly clear attempt to draw his attention to it. You're fresh out of luck, my attentions are for one woman and one woman only. And she's in the lab.

"Thank you for the invite, Pearson, but I have what you and your peers might say a…'hot date' tonight." He fought against the smile playing at the corners of his mouth at the thought of being on a proper date with you.

"Oh." She barely tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Okay then. Have a good weekend, Sir."

"Don't look now but he's here again," Brooks muttered from across the lab, the sound of him clacking away on his keyboard taking the briefest pause to tell you that once again, the former SAS tracker James Conrad was right outside the door. "You ever gonna share with the class how you two became a thing? 'Cause we have a bet going on in the lab about who made the first move and--"

"There's nothing to share, Brooks, because we aren't a thing," you cut him off, taking on a snippy tone while you ran the genome of the last flora sample from the set you collected in Skull Island against every recorded organism known to man so far. "We're friends, that's all. Give it time and he'll get tired of slumming it out with me and go back to haunting pool bars and nameless hookups."

"I don't know, Y/L/N…I never had a friend look at me like that."

The results from your test finally came up on the screen, confirming that the flora on the island were all, in fact, undocumented. You took a quick screenshot and placed it into your report. "Looks like we're getting funded," you announced, your half-deadpanned tone met with a mixture of excitement and fear. "Don't everyone stand up at once, I know how pumped we all are to get back to the island of death."

You finally stood up from your desk, looking outside the door and seeing Conrad outside giving you a little smile when your eyes met. You tried to ignore how your heart started doing backflips in your chest at the sight of him, keeping your expression fairly neutral as you gave him a small wave in response. Once your computer had finished shutting down, you grabbed your things and bid everyone goodbye, stopping at Brooks's desk last.

"If what you mean is looking at me like a barnacle he can't scrape off his boat, I hope you never have friends that look at you like that, my guy."

Before you stepped through the door, your fellow scientist let out a final remark. "You know, Y/N, for someone so smart, you're a bit of an idiot sometimes."

"Takes one to know one, Brooks," you shot back, stepping across the threshold and almost immediately becoming face-to-chest with the tracker that towered over you effortlessly. "Hey Conrad," you said slowly, trying your best to keep a hold of your composure. "Did you need something from us? I think I have Bryant running CMP for the guys you're training you should have the results tomo--"

"I didn't come here for the blood tests, Y/L/N," he cut you off, giving you another little smile that had your pulse thumping violently at your throat. "I erm…it's Friday." His eyebrows scrunched together in the slightest wince at his words.

"It is…" you echoed lamely, starting to tap away at your phone to get an Uber home, holding back the urge to sigh in relief seeing that your ride was only a few minutes away. "Have a good weekend, then," you tried to wave him off, pointing vaguely at the pick-up area, starting to awkwardly shuffle away from him.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours, stopping you before you got away too far. "Actually, I was thinking…perhaps we could go and grab a bite to eat? There's a new place that opened up just a short walk from here. Maybe we could try it out?"

As if on cue, your stomach let out an audible grumble, rudely reminding you that the last time you ate was this morning before you left your house. Before you could dwell on it any further, you canceled your Uber, giving him a tiny smile of your own. "Lead the way."

Dinner was a rather quiet affair, the two of you starting off by sharing a plate of nachos before you ordered your mains. Sometime before your entrees were served, a small group of people you recognized as the privates being trained as the Monarch Defense Team walked through the doors, the women immediately spotting Conrad and tossing a scornful dismissive look your way.

"What's wrong?"

His voice took your attention away from the group, the motion of him reaching across the table to take your hand in his causing a resounding stomp from across the restaurant followed by a barely contained "What the fuck?!"

"It's uhh…it's nothing," you waved off, trying to slowly pull your hand away so as to not elicit a stronger reaction from the group and grab his attention. "Just…thinking about work. I have to put a recommendation for another mission to the island in my report."

"We'll be better prepared this time," he reassured you, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "We have a better idea of what we're to face when we get there, and what not to do. And with enough time the troop that I'm training might even be field ready, so you and your team would have better protection."

Your neck twitched at the idea of the woman with the derisive eyes being tasked to protect you. Might even just throw you to the gigantic insects voluntarily. "Right…at least the team will be safe."

"And you, Y/N," he insisted, giving your hand a light squeeze. "I'll see to it myself, I promise you."

You nodded at his words, feeling your face strain at the smile you tried to give him before slipping your hand out of his and standing up. "Ladies room, I'll be back in a few."

While you were in line for the restroom, your thoughts wandered to how you could potentially word your recommendation so that maybe you didn't have to go with the rest of the team back to Skull Island. You weren't physically cut out to be in such a high-stress environment, and frankly you would be more of a liability if people had to look out for you on top of trying to survive a hostile environment.

When your turn came up in the queue, you were stopped in your tracks by someone wrapping their hand around your arm in a claw-like grasp, yanking you slightly backwards. "We need to talk, Y/L/N," a woman seethed.

You swore your blood chilled to near freezing point when you saw the woman private from Conrad's troop, her hateful eyes and vicious sneer too close for comfort.

There was something troubling you, Conrad could tell that much as he watched you in line for the restroom. Much as he usually found it adorable when you were muttering to yourself over your research, he had to fight to resist the urge to stand up and do what he could to somehow put you at ease.

He knew that you weren't all too excited that you had to return to the island, but his gut told him that it was more than just that. You seemed almost fearful when he mentioned the troop that he was training, and not in the way that told him it was simply because you doubted their ability to guarantee your safety.

Did you not realize that he would never even think to put your safety in anyone's hands other than his own? Didn't you know how valuable you were to him? Of course he would keep you safe. He'd put you in the same tent if he could just to make sure you'd never leave his sight.

The sight of a woman marching towards you as if on a war path had him leaving his seat within seconds, immediately recognizing it to be Pearson. When she stopped you from moving and he clocked the vice grip she had on you it had him seeing red. He saw the way you flinched back when she started hissing in your face, her words making every muscle in his body tense and burn with the itch to protect you from someone so obviously spiteful.

"Don't tell me you're the hot date that Captain Conrad turned me down for, this has to be the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard in my life," she spat out. Your face contorted with obvious discomfort from her talon-like hand tightening around your arm, nails undoubtedly digging into your skin.

"Listen, Private Pearson, I think there might just be a misunderstanding," you spoke softly, your tone laced with caution. "He's probably gonna go to said 'hot date' after this, I'm just his friend. We're friends…I think…"

Silly sweet girl, he thought to himself. Are you really so unaware of how I see you?

"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Y/L/N? I don't need to have a PhD in God knows what the ever loving fuck to know that you're into him. The only thing I can't figure out to save my life is what the fuck he sees in a mousey jumpy little thing like you, and where you found the goddamn audacity to steal him away the way you did."

"I'm not trying to steal anyone," you insisted, trying to wrestle your arm out of her hold. "We're just friends, Private Pearson. Anyone with a functioning brain can see that he doesn't want me like that. You want him, he's all yours, you won't hear a peep out of me."

"You better be right," she scoffed, releasing you with a slight shove, causing you to stumble backwards and fight to find your balance for a few seconds before righting yourself on your feet again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck away from him. Preferably before you see what happens when your stupid little face gets me triggered."

Rather than give her a verbal agreement, you simply nodded your head, scurrying off into the restroom, your face looking as if it had been drained of color and your bottom lip quivering with an obvious concern for your own safety.

So this was why you were concerned over your protection detail if you had to return to the island. Of course. Who would ever feel safe if someone assigned to the team that was tasked to protect them behaved the way that Pearson was behaving now? Who was to say that it wasn't beneath her to intentionally endanger you out of sheer spite?

The private let out an arrogant huff, flipping her hair and standing up straight with a smug look on her face before making her way back to her table with the rest of the privates in her troop.

"Pearson," Conrad spoke, letting his irritation over the entire encounter lace his tone. She stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to face him with a touch of fear in her eyes. Good, you should be afraid after the way you just spoke to the woman I love.

"Cap…Captain Conrad, hi!" Her cheeks strained with the smile she tried to keep plastered on her face despite the obvious nervousness that remained in her eyes. "We're so glad you decided to join us after all, we're seated over--"

"You're dismissed. Don't bother coming in on Monday." Her face fell immediately, indignation coloring her expression. "If you cannot treat the people you're expected to defend and protect with professionalism and respect, then you're not fit to stay on this team, let alone be deployed to the island."

"Come on, all this for a shifty little nothing? This is completely unfair!" she scoffed. "You could do so much better than her--"

"Hold your damn tongue, Pearson. I won't have you disrespect her--"

"She can't even hear us!"

"But I can." He began to raise his voice, calling the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. "That's the woman I love you're talking about. It would be wise for you to choose your next words very carefully."

All the color drained from her face and she stood up straight again, back at full attention. "I apologize, Sir. I'll have my locker cleared before the weekend's over." And then she made her way back to her table, heavy footsteps sounding throughout the whole restaurant.

As Conrad sat back in his seat waiting for you to return, he replayed his own words over and over in his mind. After all this time keeping his emotions bottled in for the sake of preserving what friendship he had with you, the words had finally formed and solidified what had been building ever since the day he met you on the way to that forsaken death island.

He loved you.

By the time you made your way back to your table, you spotted Conrad signing a receipt and placing his credit card back into his wallet.

"You know I keep a tally on how many times you've refused to let me pay, right?" you sighed, taking out your phone and once again trying to book for an Uber home. "I'm perfectly fine with and capable of splitting the bill."

"Next time."

"I also keep a tally on how many times you've said exacty that." You shuffled your feet awkwardly where you stood, avoiding looking at both him and the table that sat his trainees, including the cruel witch that was Private Pearson. "Well uhm…I should get going, it's getting late. Enjoy your weekend, Conrad."

He reached out before you took another step, placing his hand at the curve of your waist. "Walk with me back to the lab and I'll drive you home."

The sound of a fist slamming down on one of the tables made you take a step back from his hold. You didn't have to look to know who it was or what caused the outburst. "I-I really don't wanna be a bother, it's fine. Really. I can take care of myself."

You tried to step forward again, making him stand from his seat, placing a large hand on your shoulder before running down the length of your arm to lace his fingers between yours. "You could never be a bother for me, Y/L/N," he spoke softly, lightly touching your chin with his other hand. "Come on."

For the most part throughout the drive to your place, he was touching you. Whether it be holding your hand between stoplights to make you stop picking at your fingernails, or rubbing circles on your knee to stop you from fidgeting, all the while keeping his other hand steadily on the wheel.

It was hands down one of the most illegally distractingly attractive things you'd ever seen. A sight that you thought was only reserved for leading ladies in those romance books you read, definitely not something you were supposed to experience in your lifetime.

It had you fighting back the urge to pout when you saw your house start to come into view, knowing that in a few short moments it would all be over. He gave your knee a light squeeze once he'd pulled up in front of your hourse, making quick work to make his way around the front of his car to open the door for you and undo your seatbelt.

The combined scent of his woodsy citrusy cologne and something that was just uniquely him seared itself into your brain as his face was mere inches from yours. He made it even worse reaching for your hand to hold you steady while you stepped out of the car.

"Thanks, Conrad," you muttered when you got to your door, your mind spinning from the feel of him running his thumb across your knuckles. "You should uhm…probably get going. Don't wanna keep you from any other plans you might have tonight."

You felt your pulse start beating furiously at your neck when he answered you. "What plans?"

Didn't Pearson have a full blown meltdown over him talking about a hot date and then seeing you with him at dinner? What the fuck was he going on about?

"Come on, Conrad, you don't have to pretend, it's just us here. Pearson practically yanked my spine from my throat earlier at the restaurant harping on about you having plans tonight so really, I'm sure you have better things to do on a Friday night you don't have to feel like you're…I don't know, obligated? To spend time with me. And at least you'll stop looking like you're doing some weird pity charity work, too--"

"Y/N, stop." He took a step toward you, closing the distance and framed your face in his large hands. "The only plans I had for tonight were with you. Do you remember what I told you all those months ago, that first night I came here?" You only stared at him blankly, wordlessly prompting him to answer it himself. "I wanted to let you know that I'm here. For you. And I still am. I always will be."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Fleeting, but it resumed the near violent fluttering in your stomach from the contact. He gave you no time to react before he pressed his lips to yours again, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head with his hand before pressing you against the door.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he breathed out when he broke the kiss. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat when you saw how dilated his pupils had become after that kiss. "How is it that you're so observant of everything around you and yet you fail to see what's right in front of you?"

"Conrad what--"

"How could you look at me and not see a man so desperately, so irretrievably in love?"

You swore all the air left your lungs at his words. In love? No. This couldn't be real. This was beyond simply improbable, this was impossible.

There was no way on this Earth that he felt the same.

"I can almost hear the gears in your brilliant mind turning, Y/L/N," he said softly, weaving his fingers into your hair as he proceeded to press tender kisses on your temple and the side of your face. "Invite me inside. Let me take you to your bedroom. Let me show you what you mean to me."

Before you could think about it any longer, you wordlessly slipped your key into his hand, slowly nodding your head. The only response you got from him was him latching his lips onto your neck, groaning into your skin as he lifted you off the ground with one arm, unlocking your door with the other.

He'd carried you all the way upstairs to your bedroom, constantly pressing a kiss wherever his lips could reach. When he started fumbling for the light switch, you tried to hold out your hand to stop him. "No lights," you muttered. If you wanted this to go anywhere even remotely good tonight, that would require him not running for the hills the second he got you naked.

"Without the lights, I can't see you, sweet girl," he said back teasingly, kissing along your jawline until he captured your lips, smiling into the kiss.

"Exactly," you murmured against his lips, causing him to chuckle against your skin.

"Seeing you is the best part of my day," he told you simply, flipping the switch on and bathing your bedroom in a warm white glow. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the brilliant smile he gave you once he saw your face. "There you are."

He set you down on your feet, touching the top button of your shirt with a question in his eyes, only proceeding to undo the button when you have him a slight nod. Once enough skin was exposed to him, he started to trace a line of kisses across your collarbone, running his hands down your arms to strip the shirt off from you. And then he sent your mind racing as he gave you the same treatment working both your pants and panties down your legs.

"I've dreamed of this since the island," he whispered into your skin, kissing his way back up to your lips as he reached behind you, unclasping your bra. "Lie down on the bed, my love. Let me see you."

He kept your hand in his as you lowered yourself to lie on your back, your heart thundering in your chest and your lip quivering as his eyes hungrily roamed your body. Thoughts began to swim in your head again, of how different, how much less toned nearly all parts of you were compared to him. Compared to the women he'd been with before. You tried to pull your hand away from his, to start to cover yourself.

Once he realized what you were about to do, he moved to hover over you on the bed, placing his hand in the space between your arm and your torso to block your way. "No," he said simply before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "Don't hide yourself from me." He kissed his way down your neck to your chest, paying close attention to your breasts, holding you steady as you squirmed under him while he kissed and sucked your nipples into stiff peaks.

"Conrad…" Your voice came out faint, the air too thick to breathe while you drowned in his attentions. His lips moved down your stomach, peppering kisses along your mound before placing his hands on your inner thighs and gently parting your legs, opening yourself more to him.

You clenched around nothing watching him lick his lips before his eyes found yours, desperate whimpers coming out of you when he started kissing along your inner thighs. The ache between your legs started to grow stronger the closer his mouth got to where you craved him.

"Conrad!" Your back arched off the bed when he licked up the length of your slit and pressed a fleeting open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

"Lay back down, sweetheart." Your back immediately met the mattress again at his soft spoken order, your stomach fluttering violently again at the sight of him standing over you and pulling his shirt over his head. "You are the most breathtaking sight," he breathed out. "My love…"

"Could say the same from here," you shot back, still struggling to breathe properly under his gaze. The air was practically stuck in your throat the second his hands went to his pants, taking his time to undo his belt and pants, every muscle on his perfectly sculpted body moving and flexing as if he was trying to seduce you with such a seemingly mundane action.

As if he needed to seduce you.

The sound that came out of you was borderline inhuman the second he pushed his pants down his legs, and you'd gotten a good look at the sheer size of him. There's no way that's gonna fit, you thought nervously. "Conrad, I don't--" You huffed out a deflated sigh. "It's been an embarrassingly long while since I've--"

"It's alright, sweetheart." He quickly made his way back to his position on the bed, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw until he reached your lips, making an almost relieved sound against your lips. "We'll go slow. Please just tell me if I hurt you, that's the last thing I'd ever want."

Your eyes flew open at the feel of his length pressing against your entrance, your walls stretching just shy of the point of discomfort as you accommodated to his size. Any other thoughts and doubts in your mind took a backseat to the sound of Conrad's soft groans as he inched his way into you.

You'd never felt this unbelievably full.

He moaned your name in your ear. "Like you were made for me." He pressed his lips to your temple, the gesture somewhat calming your erratically beating heart. "I'll keep going now."

"Wait Conrad you what--Oh!" You felt a thrill at the back of your head once he pushed even further in, more arousal rushing and slickening your inner walls clenching around him as if pulling him deeper into you. All you could utter over the overwhelming pleasure he was subjecting you to was a faint whimper of his name.

"I love you, Y/N," he sighed in contentment, his warm exhale hitting your already heated skin before he resumed kissing along the side of your face.

"Don't say that," you blurted out. "You don't have to--"

"I want to," he cut you off, moving his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip. "I've wanted to tell you for so long please don't tell me to stop. I can't--"

"No one's ever said it. Not to me. I'm not--I've never been--"

Your words stilled him. He rested his forehead on yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own. "All the more reason for me to tell you." He muffled your moan with a kiss when he inched in even more. "I love you." He kissed up your neck, gently capturing your earlobe between his teeth before kissing the same spot. "I'll say it so often everyone around us will be sick of hearing me say the words."

"Conrad…" you cried out when he finally bottomed out, your hips flush together. "Please--"

"I love you." He started moving his hips in slow grinding circles, repeating the words every time he fully entered you.

The words were lodged stubbornly in the back of your throat; all you could utter was his name while your body trembled trying to raise your hips to meet his thrusts. Meanwhile a vicious voice in the back of your mind questioned if this was even real, refusing to accept any reality where a guy like James Conrad actually genuinely fell in love with you.

You lived by the saying that if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was. And this…this sounded like a chick lit romance novel where the devastatingly handsome decommissioned soldier fell for the nerdy scientist that most days couldn't even bother to check if her hair looked alright from the back.

This was definitely too good to be true. And all you could do now was allow yourself the fleeting opportunity to lose yourself in the pleasure he was more than capable of and seemed quite willing to give you.

And brace yourself for the moment he pulled away. The moment he finally realized that yes. Yes he could do better, actually.

Before you could dwell on it any further, he pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts when his fingers made contact with the throbbing bundle of nerves above your entrance, rubbing at the spot with the same languid pace of his thrusts.

"You feel divine, my love," he moaned in your ear, pressing his lips to a spot behind it that sent your mind reeling, the tension tightening in your stomach even further. "Come for me, Y/N." He upped his pressure on your clit, still keeping the pace with his slow, deep thrusts.

The coiling tension finally snapped when he started sucking at your skin, your walls convulsing around him while your body shook under him, your hold on his shoulder blade weakening until you finally let go, arm landing on the mattress with a soft thud. He stilled his movement inside you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss while you came down from your high.

"I love you," he kept whispering between kisses. The words had you feeling the traitorous tears prickling in the back of your eyes, every part of you filled with the overpowering urge to say them back. Tell him that you felt the same.

Instead you wanted to slap yourself for the question that slipped from your mouth. "Wait what about you?"

The smirk he gave you in response had thrills shooting throughout your body, feeling the faintest tinge of embarrassment in the back of your mind when you felt your pussy clenching around him at the sight. His mouth stretched into a devilish grin as he thrusted into you in return, his eyes filled with an obvious mix of sexual and romantic intent.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart," he rasped, starting to slowly grind his hips again. "We're nowhere near done."

He's not coming back. He left the bedroom and give it time, you're gonna hear him leave the house.

You were being irrational, and most of your mind recognized your thoughts for what they were: absolutely batshit crazy and dead wrong. For one, Conrad left the room without a stick of clothing covering him, telling you he was going to get water. He didn't know how to navigate most of your house so it would reasonably take him a few minutes to actually go get it and come back up.

That didn't stop you from making your way to the head of the bed, and crawling under the covers, drawing your knees to your chest as if you were bracing yourself for emotional impact. You caught a glimpse of your reflection on the full-length mirror, instinctively bringing your hand up to your hair to start working at the knots and tangles that developed over the last few hours.

Conrad came back to the room at that moment, holding a water bottle and two cups, giving you a soft smile as he looked on at all the effects from your lovemaking. "You look like an angel…perched on a cloud." He handed you your cup before pouring one for himself, raising an eyebrow at you when you remained sitting motionless and staring at him blankly. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I just--I thought you were just gonna get for--"

"Myself?" You nodded at him once he finished for you, making him click his tongue in disappointment, realizing what kind of experiences you'd had before. "You're making it too easy for me to spoil you. I could never be so selfish." He briefly touched his glass to yours, the clinking sound filling the room before you both downed your drinks.

Even while he climbed back onto the bed, situating himself beside you and pulling you into his arms, your irrational thoughts that he'll redress himself in a few minutes time and leave plagued your mind.

"You're looking at me like you expect me to disappear," he murmured, lightly tracing along the lines of your face with his fingertips. "What's wrong, Y/N?"

Come on, you stupid little scaredy cat just tell him. Three words. Three monosyllabic words so simple a kid can say them. Just say it.

"You're still here," you blurted out, immediately wanting to swallow your tongue when his face dropped.

Wrong three words, you fucking idiot.

"Do you want me to leave?" His words came out strained, as if it physically hurt him to say them.

"No, I don't. It's just…I expect it. And if I can be honest I'm still kind of…waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

You pursed your lips, a part of you already feeling silly for the words about to come out your mouth. "Post-coital clarity?"

He let out a slow sigh, his hold tightening around you while he cupped your face with his free hand, stroking along your cheekbone with his thumb. "And what in the world is that?"

"It's this--Honestly it's silly, really--"

"It doesn't seem silly to you." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you closer when you melted against him at the gesture. "So it's not silly to me. Tell me what it is."

You took a deep breath, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along the lines on his abdomen while you explained. "It's this phenomena that…once you've slept with someone, the attraction goes away. Your mind's more clear, you're no longer overpowered by this attraction and you realize that the person you just had sex with isn't as appealing as they were before you got together."

It took him a few seconds before he spoke again, maneuvering you so that you were now on top of him, straddling his stomach, his hands skimming up and down your sides.

"Why is it so hard for you to accept that I love you?"

The question seemed so ridiculous to you. "Because nobody ever has. Nobody does--"

"You're wrong," he cut you off, pulling you close until your chests were pressed together. "I know it might not happen often but it's happening now. You're wrong, and I'm living proof of it. Because I'm here. I'm here and I love you. The only clarity that came to me is that I want more than anything for us to become more. For what we shared tonight be more than a one-time thing."

He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into a tender kiss that had your heart fluttering when he licked into your mouth, his tongue gliding against yours. "I'm no good with words," you said breathlessly when he broke the kiss, his chest heaving against yours. "I've never been able to say how I feel, I can't--"

"Shh it's alright, sweetheart," he breathed, holding you by the back of your neck to rest your forehead against his. "You don't need those fancy words you use in your report. It's just us here. Whatever you wish to tell me, in the plainest words--"

"I love you, too."

A/N: I've finally finished this mega chonker of a piece! And I've given 'you deserve better' Conrad his happy ending with his precious bb 🥹🥹

Next up is the final story in the Kinktober 2023 initial goal: Fingering with President Loki 😳👀 And lemme just tell y'all now…it's gonna be at least 2k words long because I haven't even gotten to the smutting yet 🥴

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27

[lancestrollsgf]

# R E Q U E S T L I S T ! L A N C E S T R O L L S G F

introduction master list request list

# REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN !! (as of december 21, 2024)

# DISCLAMER: I WILL WRITE POLYGAMY FOR ANY FANDOM. I WILL BASICALLY WRITE ANYTHING JUST REQUEST. PLEASE BE AS CLEAR AS POSSIBLE IN YOUR REQUEST. ALL STORIES WILL BE USING “YOU” POV. NO REQUESTS FOR SMUT. IF THE CHARACTER/PERSON YOU WANT ISN'T HERE I PROBABLY JUST FORGOT, SO JUST REQUEST IT. PLEASE SPECIFY IF SMAU OR WRITTEN (if not specify i’ll write to what seems fit). REQUEST FOR MOODBOARDS ARE ALSO OPEN!

FORMULA ONE :

lance stroll, charles leclerc, lando norris, carlos sainz, max verstappen, kevin magnussen, sergio perez, fernando alonso, pierre gasly, george russel, esteban ocon, oscar piastri, lando norris, yuki tsunoda, logan sargeant, daniel riccardo, sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton, alexander albon. (probably more just forgot) +retired drivers, +wags, +formula 2 drivers, +f1academy drivers.

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY :

conrad fisher, jeremiah fisher, steven conklin, isabel conklin, cameron, taylor jewel, and shayla.

BANGTAN SOYEONDAN :

kim namjoon, kim seokjin, kim taehyung, min yoongi, park jimin, jung hoseok, jeon jungkook ( i haven’t written for bts in a long time so please be specific in your request )

COBRA KAI :

miguel diaz, robby kenne, axel kovačević, eli moskowitz, tory nichols, samantha larusso, demertri, and yasmine. (i haven't written for cobra kai in a quite some time so please be specific in your request)

GILMORE GIRLS :

dean forester, luke danes, lorelai gilmore, rory gilmore, logan huntzberger, tristan dugray, dave rygalski, lane kim, madeline lynn, and louise grant.

MARVEL :

tom! peter parker, andrew! peter parker, toby! peter parker, edward "ned" leeds, iron man/tony stark, black widow, captain america/steve rogers, hulk/bruce banner, thor odison, black panther/t’challa, daredevil/matt murdock, winter soldier/bucky barnes, doctor strange/steven strange, scarlet witch/wanda maximoff, quicksilver/pietro maximoff, deadpool.

CELEBRITIES/MISCELLANEOUS PEOPLE: luigi mangione, sturniolo triplets (excluding nicolas 😞), austin! elvis presely, austin bulter, vinicent hacker, joao felix, enzo vogrincic, xolo maridueña and more.

(i’m also open to crossing fandoms like joao felix (with reader) x f1 if that makes any sense)

[stargazing-imagines]

Request form *updated*

Down below is an updated format of the request form!

As of right now, requests are open so send them in!

Main fandom masterlist

Austin and Ally rewrite masterlist

Disney channel boys masterlist

Awae rewrite masterlist

Strike through *no longer doing*

Saved by the bell and The reboot

Zack Morris

Ac Slater

Screech Powers

Mac Morris

Jamie Spano

Beverly Hills 90210

Brandon Walsh

Dylan McKay

David silver

Steve sanders

Anne with an E

Gilbert Blythe

Billy Andrews

Boy meets world

Shawn Hunter

Jack Hunter

Eric Matthews

Girl meets world

Lucas friar

Farkle Minkus

Once upon a time

Peter Pan

Killian Jones *captain hook*

Robin Hood

Henry Mills

The summer I turned pretty

Conrad Fisher

Jeremiah Fisher

Steven Conklin

Titanic

Jack Dawson

Send me either a Dm or a Ask and I’ll get back to you!

My DM’s and Ask box is always open so don’t be shy to ask anything!!

Taglist Form

*This is optional and you do not have to fill it out, this just lets me know who to tag when I write my imagines*

These are rules that will be required if you want your imagines accepted! *I know these are extreme but it is what I’m comfortable with!*

NO SMUT!!! I told in the last post I made and I’m still getting dms and ask repeatedly to do smut, again I’m not doing smut as that is uncomfortable for me to write and I am not experienced in the matter!

No self harm or Sucide imagines! This is something that shouldn’t be joked about so I will not be writing about this, as well as that I find material like this very cringey to write… not offense!

It has to be appropriate or I will not write it! Please do not ask me to write about a couple making out, I like to keep my imagines PG!

Lastly please be patient waiting for you request, my life is hectic and busy so I may not get to your imagines till later!

Down below will be my writing handles’

Episode interactive — Hannah

Wattpad — _hannahwrites_

Writing Insta — hannahwrites__

Updated — July 8th 2023

[joyful-enchantress]

The stress and burnout at work has been real lately and I feel like this fic was hand crafted for me 🤍

Saz, this was scrumptious! I adore a bit of debauchery wrapped up in the fluffiest, most delicate feelings 🔥🥹

The way he maintains eye contact in this was enough to have me combust 🫠

Can he come to my place of work next and help me relax?

LOVE this, Saz! Brava! 👏🏻💕

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟔𝐤

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The vial slips from between your fingertips just as you’re about to finally seal the top. Almost in slow motion it falls to the workbench below, shattering with a mockingly musical smash and sending tiny shards of glass scattering in a million different directions. 

For a second, all you can do is stare silently at the pale blue liquid pooling on the surface, but a steady stream of curses is quickly unleashed as you move frantically to save the detailed notes spread out around you. You gather them to your chest like a mother would gather her children, and drop them on the bench behind with an irritated, angry groan. 

An entire days worth of work ruined because you couldn’t do something as simple as hold onto a vial. 

Some scientist you are. 

From the corner of your eye you see James raise his head. When you told him you’d be alone in the lab all day doing research for MONARCH he insisted on joining you, even in spite of your protestations that he’d be bored out of his skull watching you work. 

“It’s not exciting work,” you had told him with a smile. “It’s equations and formulas and mixing chemicals. You’d hate it.”

James had only given you that soft smile that he knew was your weakness. “I barely see you enough as it is, love. I won’t make a sound. Scouts honour.”

It’s impossible to deny him anything, especially when he looks at you like you hung the moon, and so he’s sat quietly at an empty bench reading a two week old newspaper while you work. 

His Scout’s honour lasted roughly thirty minutes. Naturally curious, he had followed you around the lab like a child all morning, asking detailed questions about every step of your process. But, if you’re being very honest, it’s been nice to have him there to alleviate some of the loneliness of your work. 

He’s been banished to the other side of the lab for the last half hour to allow you to concentrate, but you can feel him watching you as you begin to clear the mess from your workbench, and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning as to whether he should approach or leave you be. 

Ultimately, it’s the former that wins. 

There’s a quiet rustle as he folds the newspaper up neatly and places it exactly where he found it. It attracts your gaze and you watch him unfold from the bench like an elegant housecat, hesitating for only half a second before he closes the short distance between you both in several large steps. 

James loops his arms easily around your waist and pulls you back against his chest. His closeness brings with it the clean scent of his soap and the subtle pine of his shaving cream - that alone is almost enough to ground you. “You’re tired, love,” he says softly. “And you’ve barely left this lab all week. You’re going to exhaust that brilliant mind unless you take a break.”

His lips then press firmly to your temple. It’s his favoured soothing gesture and it never fails, not even when the inside of your mind feels like a hamster on a wheel. Slowly, the rolling wave of rage swirling inside you begins to quiet until there’s nothing but the feel of James’ arms wrapped around your waist. 

You hate how good he is at that. 

“This brilliant mind can’t take a break,” you reply tiredly, suddenly feeling all the exhaustion of the week settle over you. “I’ve got a deadline biting at my ass that can’t be pushed any further. There’s no time to switch off and have a pina colada.” 

James hums in your ear, immediately awakening a trail of goosebumps along your arms. “You did an excellent job at switching off last night.”

The tip of his nose nudges your jaw. It’s so simple, so small, but you curse the man to hell and back. 

Of course he’s going to bring up the night before when you had spent hours tangled beneath the sheets, bracketing his broad body between your shaking thighs while your name was a prayer on his lips. Of course he’s going to make you think of the way his lips had thoroughly worshipped every inch of your body, and how he’d had to cover your mouth to silence your cries lest you wake the entire building.  

Of course he’s going to make you think of the pleasure he’s capable of ripping from your body, because he knows you well enough to know that it’s a foolproof way to distract you.

You say nothing as he continues to trail lazy, haphazard kisses along the back of your neck and across your shoulder. The notes you saved only a few minutes earlier stare back at you from the workbench, and you know you should get back to the deadline at hand, but how can you be expected to focus when James is twisted around you like a viper?

And surely a few seconds of distraction isn’t going to cost you your career. 

“I should tell you to piss off and let me work,” you say, biting back a sigh when James bites gently at your earlobe, “but some stress relief would be really nice right now.”

James laughs in your ear, soft and low and genuinely amused, but his fingers are already dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to dance across your bare skin. “Is that all I am to you? Stress relief?”

You hope he knows he’s anything but. 

James Conrad is the very reason you’re standing in this lab because he believed in your abilities when you didn’t even believe in them yourself. He’s the person you want to share every miniscule detail of your life with no matter how ridiculous. He’s the first person you look for in a room, and his are the only lips you want to kiss at the end of the day. 

He’s the love of your life, and you pray that he never reduces himself to merely being the person who distracts you from the stress of your job. 

Even though he’s very, very good at it.              

His fingertips trace a familiar path along your abdomen, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as your entire body responds instantly to his touch. Those practiced fingers then slip easily inside your bra to twist your nipples, as though emphasising his displeasure, but it only pulls a satisfied smile across your face. 

“You’re the one who said I needed to take a break and then offered yourself up. What would you call it?” you tease him. 

There’s another twist of your nipples, enough to make you gasp, but the pads of his thumbs are quick to soothe. “I’d call you an impudent brat,” he replies, beginning to trail a lazy path of kisses along the column of your throat.           

You grin wider and tilt your head onto your shoulder, offering him as much of you as you can. “We established that a long time ago, Captain. You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Brat,” he says again with a smile in his voice. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

James presses a final kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so gentle and so chaste that your heart skips in your chest, and you’re once again left marvelling at the emotions that this man can awaken in you. In the space of five minutes he’s made you feel calm, desired, playful, and infatuated, and, not for the first time, you think about how stupidly lucky you are to call him yours. 

Your jungle man, as you’ve taken to calling him.

Much too soon he untangles his weight from around you, but you feel two firm hands come to rest on your hips. They give you a squeeze and, before you can complain at the sudden coldness his absence brings, James is quickly spinning you around to pin you back against the workbench. His grip tightens only a fraction, as though he’s labouring under some absurd belief that you might bolt, but then one hand rises from your hip to cup your cheek. His touch is so familiar to you that you can’t help but lean into it, even more so with the almost reverential way his thumb strokes your skin. 

“How many cups of coffee have you had today?” he asks, blue eyes boring into you. 

You hesitate for only a heartbeat. “Three,” you reply, but James is quick to cock an eyebrow. “Four.” 

He sighs softly and pulls you close enough to press a kiss to your forehead. “Oblivious girl,” he teases quietly. “I know how important this project is to you, and I know that it requires a great deal of your time and energy, but you have exhausted yourself, love.”

There’s a brief moment of nothing, then James is taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This brilliant mind is done for today. Understand?”

His voice is still velvet soft, but there’s no mistaking that this is a command he expects you to obey. Even so, the urge to be a brat rises like a storm inside you because you know how much he enjoys the game, but another larger part of you is already folding like a house of cards.

How can you not with the devastating promise that’s glittering in those blue eyes?

You nod quickly in response, eager to experience his unique form of stress relief. “Yes, Captain.”

James tilts his head to the side, fixing you with a gaze that’s full of fond exasperation. “Careful, my sweet girl, or you might bite off more than you can handle.” 

“Maybe tomorrow when you have more time to teach me a lesson,” you reply with a smirk. 

James laughs at your wit, smiling so wide that you can see the soft crinkles that form at the corners of his eyes. “Reckless. Utterly reckless,” he replies softly, and the next thing you know is his lips on yours. 

James kisses you slowly and so deeply that it takes your breath away. You melt into him easily, letting him coax your arms around his shoulders in time with a large hand pressing against the small of your back to clamp you against his chest. A moan flutters from your mouth to his as you grip him like a vice, digging your fingers greedily into the defined muscles of his back while he kisses you like you’re his only source of oxygen.

You feel dizzy, and it’s as good a distraction as any, but you realise it’s nothing more than a precursor when his lips eventually leave yours and he folds to his knees before you. 

Still drunk on the taste of his kiss, you can only watch as he makes himself comfortable on the unforgiving laboratory floor. He looks sinfully perfect kneeling in front of you, and when you see the raw desire that’s swirling in those pretty blue eyes, it almost has you fold. 

“If it’s stress relief you want, love,” James murmurs, sliding his hands underneath the hem of your skirt until it bunches at your hips, “then I’m only too happy to provide.” 

Cool air winds its way around your thighs, but James’ lips are quick to dispel the chill. He teases a slow path along your right thigh while his thumb traces nonsensical patterns on the other, and both combined raise a molten fire of arousal to life in the pit of your stomach. 

Each press of his warm lips to your flushed skin makes your cunt pulse with need, and it doesn’t take long before a desperate whimper floats from your lips. You feel James smirk then suck a particularly rough bruise into the top of your thigh. 

“Jesus Christ,” you moan shamelessly, letting an eager hand fall to twist into his hair.

You wait expectantly for him to climb higher, but, much to your irritation, he pulls back to lift his eyes to yours, though not before curling lazy fingers around the waistband of your underwear. 

“Well, don’t -,” you begin, only to be immediately silenced by James ripping away the flimsy material of your underwear. 

“Would you like to continue?” he asks, already placing two hands on your thighs to coax them apart.

You shake your head. “N-no. Not important.” 

“My good girl,” James praises you with another kiss to your lower stomach. “I expect my contributions to be noted in your final report,” he says with such an air of seriousness that you can’t help but laugh outright. 

“A footnote in my Nobel Prize acceptance speech is the best I can offer,” you reply. 

“Beautiful, brilliant, and remarkably humble. Any wonder I adore you,” he teases back, and finally, finally, you feel his mouth on your cunt. 

He feels better every single time, you can’t help but think. He’s a man who takes pleasure in giving, and nowhere does that shine through more than when he’s between your thighs. His tongue caresses your cunt like a long lost lover, ensuring that no part of you is left neglected. 

“James…fuck.” They’re the only words you’re capable of saying as he pays particular attention to your clit.

He groans low in his throat and the vibrations are enough to have you slamming your hand back on the bench behind to keep yourself steady. You chance a glance down at the devil between your legs, and your eyes immediately lock with his. You watch as he pleasures you, watch as he curls his hands around your hips to pull you closer to his mouth, then closes his eyes at the taste of you.

You know you aren’t going to last long. 

A storm of pleasure is quickly rising in your core, swirling faster and faster with each second James’ tongue remains buried in your cunt. Your hand curls like a vice in his hair to guide him and he obediently follows. Those strong hands squeeze your hips - a silent request - and you quickly flick your eyes back down to his. 

“I know…I know. Just keep going…please, James,” you plead. You’re climbing higher up the ascent and ready to topple, so it’s only too easy to grant him his one request. 

Let him watch you fall. 

His blue eyes are boring into you, not willing to risk even a second of you falling apart, and when you catch a glance of your own arousal coating his upper lip, you know you’re gone. 

Your orgasm rips through you so violently that you lose the ability to breathe, to form thoughts, to do anything but keep your eyes on James. But when you finally do find your voice, James’ name is imprinted into the very foundations of the laboratory. He fucks you through it all, until you’re a quivering, boneless wreck above him shaking through the aftershocks. 

You’re still panting when he finally pulls back, unable to do anything but watch mutely as he pulls your skirt back into place and gets to his feet. Instantly, he’s gathering you in his arms and holding you against his chest, letting one hand run slowly along the length of your back. 

“Better?” he asks, pulling away just enough to catch your chin between his fingers. 

You nod slowly. “Uh huh, but I can’t remember why I needed to feel better.”

James laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “My poor girl. Why don’t I take you home so you can lie down?” 

You let him loop an arm around your waist and pull you against his side. “I feel like there might be a double meaning to that.” 

“There is,” James replies, not missing a beat. 

“Then take me home, Captain.”

[ficbrish]

Black Spot (aka Shenko Pirates) Chapter 8

"Sludge stuck on your fingers" [AO3]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: Prompt Fic, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enemies to Lovers, Pirate Captain Shepard, Navy Admiral Kaidan Alenko, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Renegade Kaidan Alenko, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Some Plot, POV Alternating, Eventual Smut, Shameless Smut, Oral Sex, Rough Sex

[[TW/CW: PTSD, illness, cuts, wounds, physical assault, bullying, breakups, biotic trauma reminiscent of queer trauma]]

[Previous Chapter]

[All Chapters]

“Shepard!”

He shook her shoulders and shouted her name, but flickering eyelids were the highest level of consciousness she was currently capable of.

“Shepard!”

Kaidan stopped himself, realizing that disturbing her was probably the worst thing he could do. She should be still, and rest.

“Shepard,” he cried, “I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to cut that deep.”

Kaidan didn’t understand. His mind raced at the image of the woman lying still in front of him with red hair and all the color drained out of her skin. Her infected wound, mauve and then plum, screamed through his mind’s eye. He needed to take another look.

Her eyes flickered open, just barely, as he gingerly lifted her up. Moving her must have hurt her.

He didn’t notice the half-sob that bubbled up and escaped him. It was a pitiful noise at a terrifying sight.  A map laying out the path to death was clearly printed across Shepard’s shoulders.

If she lived, there was going to be a scar.

Kaidan settled her body back down even more gently than before. He saw some of the whites of her eyes as they flickered again. Moving must have hurt her.

“Nasty!” gleeful laughter danced cruelly along the group, “That’s gonna scar!”

Kaidan scratched his back. Then he took off his shirt, using it as a blanket to place over Shepard.

Fire and water. He should take care of that first.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

He spent his whole childhood romanticizing life on the sea. The ocean, and the ship, and the uniform—Exploration for the sake of it, or to prove he was worthy of someone he loved! He grew up ready for all of it.

Kaidan used to want to be exactly like the father who didn’t acknowledge him. He wore the Alliance Navy on his shoulders like it was the pride of the family. In a way it was. In another way it just meant getting invited to parties where he was told to stand in the shadows and draw no attention. In another way, it prepared him for life on the sea.

And there was life on the sea!

He left Humanity’s shores and ventured out as far as the Island-States of Sur’Kesh and the Thessian Empire. The Temperance was a proud ship that carried them safely across every ocean. It took Kaidan to locations he grew up dreaming about, like the Elcor port at the end of a vast desert, the mountains of Salarian matriarchs forged by deep sea volcanoes, and the Turian Hierarchy’s seaside capital city. It also taught him how other species took to the sea, like the Krogan navy with its towering ship-cities or the mythical Quarians with their underwater kingdoms and magical dive suits.

The air tasted like salt, and you were never alone.

When he met his first crewmates, Kaidan thought they’d always be part of his life. In a way, they still were; one could say they left their marks.

There was Stevens, who was named Paul, and Paulson, who was named Stephen. It was a big joke to call them Paul-Steven and Stephen-Paul, which eventually rounded down to P.S. and S.P., which, when they were drinking, often devolved into Piss & Shit. Kaidan was the least close with those two. It wasn’t personal. In fact, they didn’t seem to be close to anyone but each other. Everyone revered them though. They were always fun and made everyone laugh with jokes that weren’t really clever or funny.

The two he was closest with were Conrad and Blake, who were cousins both named Tim. They were like the angel and devil on his shoulders, always with him and always getting him into trouble. Kaidan didn’t really remember their faces, their features blurred over the years, but he could hear both of their laughs like they were still in the room.

Then there was him. The son of an aristocrat, he was a prince among the rest of them. Doverfort, but Kaidan only ever called him Henry, just like Henry never called him Alenko.

His eyes were so bright. They held the future in them.

Henry had the coin to bribe officers to keep them all together on the same shifts. Their only ambition was to stop time and stay exactly where they were. They’d do just enough work to not be a problem, and never anything good enough to risk a promotion. Then they’d always be together.

Just when life couldn’t be more perfect, Henry woke him up in the bunk one night.

When Kaidan opened his eyes, Henry gestured for him to be quiet with a finger in front of his full, angular lips. He could see Henry so clearly in the dark.

Henry led them through the ship in their nightclothes until he stopped in a dark corner, deep under the deck. A place that only the damp and the rats really bothered with. They could barely see. Any light from the moon didn’t reach them where they were. All they had were sparsely placed lanterns and the limits of the Human eye.

That’s why Kaidan thought it was just an accidental bumping-into at first. It took his mind just as much adjusting as his eyes to realize that what he felt was purposeful. Henry held his hand. Then Henry moved it between his legs where there was something hard and wonderful waiting to be grabbed.

A dam broke and they were all hands and tongues. Months of best friendship were really months of falling in love. This moment now confirmed it. Every touch confirmed it. Every kiss; every stroke; and then, oh god, every pulse that spilled them out of themselves and onto each other, onto fingers, onto mouths, fucking confirmed it.

They never told the others, and did something like it every other night.

But it wasn’t the only secret Kaidan asked Henry to keep.

“Only tell who you trust with your life. Once you say it, you can’t unsay it.”

His mother raised him to do better, but he was so eager to share it. Kaidan never knew for sure whether it was Henry, but the rumors about what he was started up around the same time.

“As if you needed any more reasons to want me dead,” fingers to his temples dripping with indigo stars.

Across the globe, everyone born with that particular affliction knew how to protect it. They grew up learning to temper the pain to hide the signs, dull their kind of body’s natural reflexes. It was the one constant across cultures, across species, across time. Unless you were Thessian, of course.

Those rumors were his first real taste of heartbreak; the end of the last chapter in his book of young love. So, it almost didn’t matter when they put him through the test. It didn’t hurt as much as Henry probably thought it did.

“There’s only one thing to do,” Blake stated that night, so bold and sure of himself; like he only had this moment to prove he was a grown man, “None of us are going to like it, but we won’t know unless we see it ourselves. And if Alenko’s truly got nothing to hide, we’ll just have to make it up to him.”

They cheered and toasted, and Kaidan cheered and toasted along with them. The supervising officer looked on with a combination of boredom and pride.

When everyone decided they were drunk enough, the knives and swords came out. Kaidan knew what was expected of him, so he took off his shirt and got on his knees.

“None of us are doing this because we want to,” Blake stated, marking his place as the leader, “I know you’d do the same if it were me.”

But would he? Kaidan would never know a life where their positions were switched, so he couldn’t say for sure. In his life, with this burden, the answer was no. But if there were another life without this burden, who could say?

For as much of a man as he was trying to be, Blake’s cut wasn’t that long or that deep. But it wouldn’t matter if it was. Kaidan’s father had prepared him for this. Prepared him for the sea. He could take incredible amounts of pain without giving himself up.

The cut bled in the shadows like it should; normal, Human. No hint of light spread over his body like an insidious halo. No glimmer whispered forward from the depth of his wound.

“Good so far,” Blake said, his voice shaking as he offered his knife to his cousin.

Conrad wanted to use a different blade, “This sword was my father’s. I trust it to bring the truth to light.”

He was always so dramatic. Kaidan rolled his eyes before it sliced him waist to hip.

“Nasty!”

“Careful, lads!” the supervising officer shouted, “You’re not here to kill him!”

“It wasn’t deep,” Conrad scoffed.

Next came Piss & Shit.

“Ooooh!”

“That’s gonna scar!”

The knives and names that followed blurred with unimportance. Kaidan thought it was over before he realized they truly saved the best for last.

Henry was the one who cut him deepest.

“Enough!”

If Henry wasn’t intended to be the last, the wound he made ensured it. Whether it was meant to be a kindness, a compensation, or a severance of some sort, Kaidan would never know. Maybe it was everything. Whatever intention it came out of, his slice left one hell of a scar.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

Her forehead was burning dangerously. Her skin felt like a steaming log the moment before it catches fire.

“Come here, Shepard,” Kaidan said apologetically as he knelt down to scoop her limp body into his arms.

She muttered incoherently as he walked down the beach, jostling her with every anxious, uneven step. He knew it had to hurt, but the sea was their best option. Maybe. It’s not like he knew much about what he was doing.

Kaidan brought her into the cold water, cradling her above its surface. He dipped and held most of her underneath it for her temperature to go down, only keeping her face above it. She shivered horribly. Kaidan couldn’t tell if he was shivering too, or just shaking. He couldn’t tell if he was helping or making it worse.

He brought her back up to their shelter, and washed her wound again with the rest of their clean water. She seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep. Maybe he did know what he was doing. Kaidan didn’t want to leave her side but needed to replenish their water, and now was the time if any.

Henry walked away from him; after that. Betrayal. The forest seemed to agree, its trees looming over him in judgment while its roots and vines did their best to trip him up. His surroundings never felt like a threat, but now he was truly alone, they took on another meaning.

Henry never came back though, and Kaidan was only walking away to return with something they depended on.

Kaidan wasn’t paying attention and smacked into a pile of mud. Thankfully, his landing was soft, but if there had been a rock, he could’ve broken something. And if he broke something… Well, he was all she had, and she was all he had. He needed to pay better attention. Any mistake would likely doom them both.

Pressure stood on his chest like an obstinate cat, but he had to keep going. It had its claws in his lungs.

He had to pick himself up.

He stood up and kept going.

But he didn’t understand. Why was it getting worse? Biotics were supposed to heal. Magic was supposed to bring miracles.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“Clean up your own damn mess and take care of the lieutenant. That’s an order, boys.”

From the floor, he was brought to one of the Captain’s spare offices. The Temperance was a very big ship. He could recover there out of anyone’s way.

A makeshift hammock was tied up on hooks in the corners of the ceiling. It became soaked with Kaidan’s blood, mottled between dry and fresh. It was up to his comrades to do everything, and they always did the bare minimum. So, it was changed out and washed on their own sense of timing.

There was always one other boy in the room with him. It was their task to monitor his progress, to be there to witness nature or a freak of it. To make sure his back healed on its own in due time, without being sped up by any other process. Unnatural fluctuations.

Henry only ever came by the one time. Then he transferred to another ship.

“I didn’t mean to cut that deep,” his sobbing apology was the last moment Kaidan ever had of him.

Kaidan refused to turn around. He couldn’t look at Henry. He felt the cool cloth attending to his back as warm tears fell over it. He heard the apologies and all his professions of innocence.

But he never took one last look at his face.

After that, Kaidan was left with Conrad and Blake, who promised to make all this up to him and never did. He just had them and Piss & Shit.

When Kaidan’s skin finally closed up in a way that cleared his name, they were all put on different shifts. Kaidan threw himself fully into each task, leaving time and room for only the people he had to. Eventually, his work was noticed. Then his last name was recognized. He got a promotion after that, and another until he reached his current position. Until he was Alliance Admiral Kaidan Alenko.

That final crown came at a cost, and the only acceptable currency for it was Pirate Captain Estrella Shepard.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

Night was approaching and the colors in her wound were as vast and vivid as a sunset.

Lowering her temperature, painting drops of water on her lips, covering her when she shivered, clearing out the pus—None of his aid could leap faster than the infection could shuffle. She was at the point where every hour was critical.

He wept and kept up their fire. He didn’t know what else to do.

Kaidan sat there short of options, with only a miracle left.

There were some things that could never be taken back. Like his triumphant cry after wounding her. Like the cut across her shoulder. Across his back. Like Henry holding his hand in the dark. Like living for the space between her legs.

He’d take it all back if he could. All of it. Even the memories that glittered and flashed with a warmth deeper than his soul. He’d take it all back if it would leave him a void. If everything would just leave him the fuck alone.

“I’m sorry, Shepard.”

It was him or her, and he was all she had.

“Only tell who you trust with your life. Once you say it, you can’t unsay it.”

His mother raised him better than this. He’d rather die than share it. But she was the one dying, not him.

Kaidan stood up with a sigh deeper than the sea. He went over to her side.

He wasn’t crossing that line so much as crossing the border between life and death. It was now or never. Waiting any longer might take the decision away from him. He had to get to it before it went too far.

He brushed the hair away from her face.

He put a hand on her back. She winced, eyes flickering, as he placed it directly against her wound.

He closed his eyes.

Biotics were supposed to heal.

A dim, blue glow cast their shelter in low light.

A cleansing fire like the sun itself worked its way through her flesh. Time fell away from the wound, or seemed to.

Kaidan was so exhausted when she eventually opened her eyes that he almost shut his.

Not a flicker, but a true blink with thoughts behind it. Her voice was hoarse, “Kaidan?”

“It’s okay, Shepard. It’s gonna be okay.”

[All Chapters]

[smolvenger]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNhgCAyW/

i’m about to write soft smut w him tonight so lemme just leave this riiiiiight here 😮‍💨🫡

omg my brain was going wheee and I am having trouble going to sleep and saw this and oh my gosh, bestie, I am so hyped for the soft smut!!!! I am ready for him to give kisses and cuddles but also be a menace pounding into his girl all while assuring sweet nothings and breathless confessions!

No words, no thoughts, only Captain Conrad!

Dat back, bestie-phew!

[loki-cees-all]

Fiji {James Conrad x Female Reader Drabble}

Cee's James Conrad Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : James Conrad x Female Reader

Summary : A much-needed vacation for you and Conrad leads to nothing but lots of skin, sunshine, and the bluest blue you’ve ever seen.

W/c : 1.5k words

Content / Warnings : Established relationship, skinny-dipping, hurt/comfort (focus on the comfort for a change), some lingering angst, and just a touch of smut.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

━━━ · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ● · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ━━━

Daylight had only broken two hours prior, but you were already in the ocean. 

The bright cerulean sky overhead blended seamlessly with the crystal blue water below. At your shoulders, gentle and warm waves lapped at your skin, and in the distance, the calls of the local parrot finches provided the perfect soundscape for the island. Deep below the water’s surface, docile sand soothed the aching muscles of your feet, and if you submerged yourself completely in the water, you’d be able to see for almost a mile along the ocean floor. 

That is, if you were interested in thinking about anything besides the gorgeous man wrapped around you. 

Conrad had grumbled when you’d woken him up so early, just barely four hours after setting up camp and passing out on the vacant beach together. The face he’d made while trying desperately, and failing, to pull you back into the sleeping bag was infuriatingly adorable. But once his eyes had opened enough to see you happily stripping for a naked morning swim, his attitude had changed almost instantly. 

“Is this what you had in mind when you demanded a midnight boat ride to Tivoa Island?” Conrad had grinned as he peeled off his t-shirt and began working on his jeans. His hungry eyes were glued to your frame as you pulled your tank top overhead and then shimmied your shorts down your hips; his fingers, not quite as awake as his eyes were at that point, had fumbled with the buttons, struggling to free himself fast enough and catch up with you. 

You had laughed in response, walking backwards towards the water, taunting him with your nude form and an innocent smile on your lips. “I didn’t demand anything, darling. I politely requested that you find someone to give us a lift, that’s all.” 

The water was up to your knees by the time Conrad managed to catch up with you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and lifting you up into a backwards bearhug. And you had squealed with delight as he buried his nose in your neck and began to move you both deeper into the healing waters.

“If I had known that this little excursion was going to include skinny-dipping, I would have found us a ride a lot sooner than midnight, my dear…” he had murmured against your skin, breathing in your scent and running his hands along your hips once you lowered you back to your feet. 

Conrad’s touch was heavenly - his skin was so soft and soothingly warm, his every muscle so steady and strong against your back. At that moment, you were happier than you’d ever been. 

You’d already spent ten whole days and nine entire nights with him - every minute was kept all to yourselves, and there were absolutely no interruptions. But still, neither of you could keep your eyes and hands off each other the entire time. This was by far the longest you’d spent together since that very first meeting back in Saigon, and the entire trip had been nothing short of perfection - exploring new places and cultures along the islands of Fiji by day, and making considerable amounts of love by night. Everything the soul needed to set itself right again. 

Conrad hadn’t been sold on the idea of a vacation when you first broached the subject; he was a working man by birth, a desperate martyr looking for some way to be of use, and never one to turn down a job that needed doing. Whether any particular job actually needed doing was always up for debate, in your opinion, and after the tragedy on Skull Island, you were prepared to become relentless in your insistence that he needed to rest. 

But much to your surprise, he had immediately given in. He acquiesced, without any further struggle or argument, and took you up in your offer to travel for pleasure instead of pain. Because something horrible on that island had finally broken him, and it killed you to see it. 

Initially, he hadn’t wanted to discuss it at all…much in the same way he never wanted to talk about the war. You didn’t want to pry or to push in respect for his privacy, but you knew whatever still haunted him was deep and painful haunting. Even months later, he still had nightmares, and he’d wake up with a start, bolting upright and shouting orders at the long lost ghosts of Skull Island. 

And all you could do was hold Conrad tight, hoping that somewhere along the way, between the sun and the moon and the water, he’d finally be able to unburden himself. 

It was the third night in Lautoka, while basking in the afterglow of the second round of lovemaking that evening, when he finally opened up about the horrors of that place. Conrad wasn’t usually one for being upfront about his feelings, especially the negative ones, but he actually admitted to being absolutely terrified, for what was probably only the fourth or fifth time in his entire life. 

But he wasn’t necessarily scared of the monsters, or of the people - no, he had been frightened of never seeing you again. Of never getting to hold you, or make love to you again - and that fear was something he just couldn’t continue living with. With you, there was just too much for him to lose. And if there was one thing trackers hated the most, it was being unable to regain something precious. 

So now here you both were, standing back to chest in the Pacific Ocean, bathing in the sunlight and letting the waves purge away the aches and pains buried deep within both of your souls. Conrad was feeling so much better; he was smiling and laughing again, he was appreciating the little things, he was looking forward to the future. He was alive, and thus, so were you. 

Because you were loved here, cradled in Conrad’s arms and floating amongst the waves of his heart. And he was safe here, protected by you and the sunshine and the gentle breeze, from every dark shadow and every monster that still lingered in his painful memories. The gentle breeze blew away the ashes of the past, and the graceful waves paved the way for a quiet, simple life. 

Nothing could hurt either of you here, and absolutely everything could heal you. 

Conrad squeezed your hips again as he pressed lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder, and you were suddenly reminded of the time constraints against you both. The boat would be heading back to Lautoka at exactly noon, and the docks were just under a half hour’s walk from the beach. As much as you’d love to spend another week on this remote and exquisite beach, the rest of your belongings and food were still tucked away in your room at the Seabreeze Hotel…

“We should probably get a move on, if we don’t want to miss the boat back…” you murmured reluctantly, even as your heart raced while his lips moved up to your ear. Conrad let out an enticing and teasing hum as he nibbled on your earlobe, and a shiver of excitement ran down your spine as he pressed himself harder against your backside. 

“Yes, and we should probably have a snack before we go…” Conrad’s fingertips dipped between your thighs, grazing you softly with the most delicate of touches and leaving your brain short-circuiting in bewilderment. 

“I think there’s, uh…crackers…in my bag…” you breathed heavily, feeling lost in his touch again. Conrad’s fingers matched the gentle ocean waves as they pushed and withdrew, gathering up any leftover anguish and leaving nothing except euphoria in their wake. 

He continued that motion for a few more moments, winding you up for another beautiful release. Your head fell back against his shoulder and your lips parted with heavy breaths as your hips rolled with his fingers. Just as you were about to come, your fingernails dug into his forearms and you moaned his name in just the way he liked. 

But shockingly, right when you were on the edge of an incredible orgasm, Conrad completely withdrew his fingers and scooped you up bridal style instead. You gasped in surprise and your brow furrowed with irritation at the sudden reversal he'd pulled on you. But as you hooked an arm around his shoulder and looked up into his glittering blue eyes, at those irises shining brighter than the ocean and the sun combined, your heart outright stopped in your chest, like you were seeing him for the very first time again.

Conrad’s skin had grown so very tan from the sun, and so very soft from all the salt in the atmosphere. As his skin had grown tanner, new and more impressive freckles had popped up along his high cheekbones and broad shoulders. His beautiful eyes sparkled in the bright light reflecting off the water - the bluest blue you’d ever seen - and you could have sworn he’d acquired several new laugh-lines since this much-needed vacation had begun. 

He was healing. He was whole again, and the ocean had done that for you both. The ocean forces you to let go of everything holding you down, so you could focus on clinging to what was actually important. Nothing else on this planet could ever compare to the ocean’s power. 

Conrad just laughed as he carried you back to shore. “Oh, let me assure you, darling…It’s not food I’m hungry for.” 

━━━ · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ● · · ━━━ … ━━━ · · ━━━

Click here to be added to my James Conrad fic tag list! 💙

[november-rayne]

Ohhhh…. The anticipation *shivers*

Love it @infinitystoner

Conrad tells you to get on your knees.

What’s he gonna do to you?

I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL MAN. (Also, this has nothing to do with the series I’m working on. Just a drabble. Enjoy!)

Misconduct

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader Word count: 788 Tags/Content: Bratty Behavior, Daddy Dom!Conrad, Smuttish

“What if your little ruse had backfired?” 

The evening’s arduous recovery mission had been a success, although the extraction of your target had not gone according to plan. Conrad’s plan, that is. 

In the heat of the moment, you’d implemented another course of action – admittedly a slightly more dangerous one – and, now that you’re back at the Saigon motel the two of you are currently operating out of, he’s finally letting his disappointment be known. 

And it is exhilarating. 

“They’re safe, James. Mission accomplished,” you reply nonchalantly, wrapping your arms around his waist as he shrugs off his holster. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

He huffs out an incredulous laugh, slowly walking the two of you back toward the bed – which is precisely where you want to be. 

“Oh, darling. You disobeyed a direct order out there. You expect me to just forget that?” 

There’s a hint of lingering frustration in his tone, and a rush of adrenaline surges through your body, your core throbbing in delightful anticipation of what’s to come. 

“Yes, of course,” you say before running your tongue along the expanse of his beautiful neck, relishing in the salty taste of his skin and hoping your eager nips are enough to distract him from the fact your hands are hastily unfastening his belt buckle. 

But it’s futile – Conrad immediately grasps your wrists, stopping your ministrations as he gives a gentle squeeze. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“I know I am.” 

Your continued taunts prompt him to change course, pulling you away from the bed and pressing you back against the nearest wall. You’re not sure if it’s his heartbeat you feel against your chest or your own fighting wildly within the confines of your ribcage. You stare up into his eyes – any remaining glimmer of playfulness is gone, replaced by unabated lust. 

“Why do you insist on being such a brat?” 

“You love it.” 

“That I do,” he muses, letting go of you. “But even brats must learn to follow the rules.” 

“Now,” he pauses, his tongue darting across his bottom lip before his gaze narrows. He’s thinking of a punishment befitting your misconduct, and your breath hitches at the obscenity of it all. “Over there, on your knees.” 

He motions to the foot of the bed, but you’re already following his command without hesitation.

“Any other requests, Captain?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder as Conrad snaps the belt from his hips in one fluid movement. 

“Eyes straight ahead, love. And hands behind your back.” 

Submitting to him like this comes to you as easy as breathing. It’s a partnership built on trust that works exceedingly well, both in and outside of the bedroom.  

But you broke a sacred rule tonight, and now you must atone. Pleasure roils inside you like the wicked waves of a tempest as Conrad crouches behind you, fingertips ghosting down the length of your arms before swiftly looping his belt around your wrists.  

When he’s done, he settles on the bed in front of you. Carefully, you test the strength of the leather binding, burning desire settling in your belly when you realize the knot is tighter than usual. 

“My fierce, curious girl,” he laughs. “Would you like to hear the rules?” 

Your brain short circuits with salacious possibility as the ache between your thighs intensifies, but you must make some sort of agreeable noise because Conrad smugly arches a brow as he rubs his palms along the top of his legs, observing you with a quiet wonder. 

“You will not move – or touch me – until I say so. Is that clear?” 

“Then what—”

“You’re going to watch.”

Conrad is certainly a sight to behold. The hazy light emitting from the bedside lamp creates a glowing aura around his godlike form, and shadows dance across the contours of his chiseled body as he widens his thighs. The way he commands the space, the confidence in his posture, the dominant energy filling what little space exists between you – it’s addictive. 

“James, please.” It’s desperate, but so are you. You’ll say anything – do anything – if it means you get to touch him. 

The subtle curve of his lips hints at a smile; he knows the power he wields over you. Conrad meticulously unbuttons his jeans, the two of you groaning in unison when he finally frees himself.  

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” he rasps, languidly stroking his cock. “I’m still going to make good use of that smart little mouth of yours.”

The confused expression on your face must intrigue him because he pauses his motions and leans down, his breath fanning over your heated skin as he whispers,  

“Tonight, you’re going to talk me through it.”

[schwarzeskaetzchen]

Yes Sir! Chapter two

Pairing: James Conrad x OC

Genre/warnings: 18+, smut, dom/sub, alcohol, masturbation, unprotected sex

Finally posting Chapter two, yay. I finally kicked the gremlin out of my head telling me my fanfiction is shitty and blaaah. Maybe I will post some more fictions, there are so much stories stuck in a small folder on my desktop....

English isn't my first language, sorry if there are any spelling or grammatical mistakes. Please don't steal my work.

Chapter 2:

“Guys, I call it a day.”, Jamie said faking a yawn. “Noooo. Training is over MacKenzie.” The other soldiers replied, waving with their beers. “Time to party!” “Yeah, have fun guys. Good night.” She made her way out of the room and down the hallway to were the quarters were located. Captain Conrads blue eyes followed her worried.

“Damn you Conrad!”, Jamie huffed as she closed the door to their shared quarter behind her. The survival training was over and after months of crawling trough the dirt, camping in pouring rain and eating what they could acquire, they were back in the base. Time to celebrate. But not for her. James Conrad was hot in his military green but hell he was absolutely mouthwatering in this tight black trousers and blue t-shirt straining against his biceps. She was done. Tired from the training and horny for her captain she stood in the small room she was sharing with him because there were only 5 women left and four of them were sharing another. The redhead could have stayed in a room with 3 other soldiers but captain Conrad hat insisted she stayed with him, being worried about her sleeping in the same room with the three guys that had ogled her the whole training and with the alcohol they would consume on the party, god knows some situations could happen.

Jamie inhaled deeply the smell of his cologne that hung in the air of the small room. Conrads bed on the left side, hers on the right. She went to her bed pulling off her trousers and got under the covers. Her thoughts went back to her captain, his piercing blue eyes, strong arms and the sexy British accent. Slowly she let her hands wander down her body, one hand kneading her breast through her shirt while the other slipped into her panties, rubbing through her wet folds.

Conrads impatience grew, but it would be too obvious if he followed right behind the redhead. Was she feeling unwell? Was the training too hard and the cold nights out in the rain taking it's toll on her? James looked at his watch again, 15 Minutes since Jamie had left the party. He took the last swing of his beer and went after the woman.

Silently he opened the door to their shared quarter and slipped through the door. Conrad froze in place as a soft moan of his name reached his ear. The only light illuminating the room came from the emergency exit sign above the door.

“God James.” Jamie moaned rubbing her clit while fantasizing about her captain.

A knowing smile played on his lips as Conrad realized the situation he just blundered into. Naughty girl, getting off on your captain in your shared bedroom, he thought before he cleared his throat noisily. “MacKenzie, what do you think you are doing?”, he asked in his commanding voice.

Shit!, Jamie jumped out of the bed staring at the dark figure leaning at the closed door. She reached for her trousers laying on the floor when James switched on the small lamps on the night stands. Jamie sprung to attention feeling caught under his gaze as he strolled into the room examining her thoroughly. Her cheeks burned with shame while the cold air hit her wet sex, reminding the redhead of her nakedness. “M..May I put my clothes on sir?”, she stuttered feeling a shiver running down her spine as James stopped right in front of her. “No.” Came his sharp command before the man fell to his knees. “I hadn't had the chance to taste that sweet pussy of yours back then.”, he said with a smile, letting his large hand travel up her left leg, placing her thigh on his broad shoulder. A whimper left her mouth as James hot breath fanned over her exposed slit. Jamies eyes went wide as she looked down into his blue lust blown eyes. “May I?” She nodded, gasping as he started lapping at her folds, circling her clit with his tongue. “God James.” “Shh, darling. As much as I love to hear you moaning my name but you have to be quiet or we might get caught.” Conrad told her before he dove back between her thighs. “Yes sir.” Jamie covered her mouth with her hand, burying the other in Conrads hair to steady herself. Sliding two of his long fingers into her dripping cunt James started pumping in and out of her, grazing her g-spot.

“Please..sir...I”, she tried to keep her voice down biting her hand. “Come for me, darling.”, he purred feeling Jamies walls flutter around his fingers as she came hard, bucking into his face. She tried to steady her breath again as Conrad slowly rose to his feet. “Mmmh, you are delicious.”, he hummed licking his lips. Jamie groaned as she looked him in the eyes seeing the lust in them. Slowly her hand slit between them cupping his hardened cock. “I need you sir, please.” She wined.

“Oh how I'd love to take you right here on the floor MacKenzie.” James groaned bucking into her hand. “But I don't have any condoms, do you?” The woman shook her head. “But before we went to the training we had to had our blood tested and I guess you saw the results, right?” Jamie opened his trousers, sliding her hand into his boxers. “Y..Yes.”, he moaned. “So you know I'm clean and I use birth control.” His lustful gaze met Jamies confident smile. “I took a test too and I'm clean. Are you sure you want that ?” The woman nodded eagerly “Yes, sir! I want you to fuck me, sir. I want you to be the first to come inside me... sir.” Jamie said taking off her shirt and bra.

“Good. Get on your hands and knees beside me MacKenzie.” She immediately followed the command, looking up she saw her naked form in the mirror on the wall. Kinky!, Jamie thought searching Conrads gaze in the mirror. Her captain stood behind her getting rid of his jeans and boxers, licking his lips at the sight in front of him. Quickly Conrad went into the small bathroom turning on the shower. Confused the redhead turned around as he got back. “Now we don't have to keep too quiet.”, Conrad smirked. He got to his knees teasing Jamies dripping cunt with his hard cock before he slowly slid inside her. Suppressing a moan she bucked her hips. “Please, sir.” She whined. “God Jamie, you feel so good.”, Conrad praised as he started a slow rhythm, thrusting deep into her. Jamie felt his cock grazing her g-spot over and over, making her moan his name like a prayer as he sped up the pace. Letting his hand wander up her spine Conrad reached her wild red hair, wrapping it around his hand. “Oh fuck James.” Meeting his thrusts she raised her head, staring at her Captain in the mirror. Watching his biceps flex as he gripped her hips harder, the heaving of his chest. “You like what you see, darling?”, his voice came out as a low growl, making Jamies eyes snap to his. Conrad moaned and let go of her hair, to let it sneak around the womans hips to play with her clit, making her moan even louder. “That's it, come for me love.” James grunted through gritted teeth. He was close, the redhead could feel his cock twitch and his thrusts get sloppier. Watching his sharp jaw clench as he threw his head back, Jamie felt her head go light as a wave of pleasure washed over her. “Yes, MacKenzie, milk my cock, fuck...”, with a growl he came hard, filling her. The feeling of his orgasm made another violent shudder crash over Jamie, leaving her as a messy puddle.

When she opened her eyes again she felt strong arms holding her in a tight embrace. James pressed soft kisses along her left shoulder making the woman sigh. “That was so hot.”, Jamie said, leaning deeper into the embrace, feeling the heat radiating from the man behind her. “Mmmh... it sure was but the view still is phenomenal darling.” She followed Conrads gaze in the mirror and blushed, heat spreading across her body. Jamies legs were still spread giving them a good view of her dripping pussy, their mixed juices leaking from her core dripping to the floor. A moan escaped her as Jamie tried to bury her head on her captains shoulder. “Come on love, lets get you cleaned up.”, Conrad said, pullig the woman to her feet, leading her into the bathroom.

They took a nice long shower together before returning to the small shared bedroom. James took care of the mess they had made on the floor while the redhead put on her panties and a shirt getting ready to drop dead on her bed. “Wrong bed MacKenzie.” Jamie heard his soft voice. “Come here.”, and as she turned toward her captain she groaned. There he was, Captain James Conrad laying in his bed, propped up on one elbow only wearing a pair of white boxers waiting for her to join him. A bright grin spreads on the redheads face as she saunters over to him, swaying her hips, “Yes sir.”

[cleo-fox]

master list/about me

about me

I write fanfic.

Right now, I’m focusing on Loki/Reader one shots. They’re mostly smut.

Okay, maybe they're exclusively smut.

I also suffer from periodic James Conrad brainrot.

You can find my work on Tumblr and AO3. I do not post fanfic on any other platforms at this time. Please do not repost my work on other sites.

I don't have a tag list—it’s just a little too much for me to keep up with.

I don’t take requests, but my asks/DMs are open if you want to chat!

My updates are erratic. I am a slow-ish writer and I have a small child, so it can vary quite a bit.

Since we apparently have to say this now: I do not consent to having my work uploaded to AI or chatbot software.

my fics (on Tumblr and AO3 only)

one-shots

Surrender (Loki x Female Reader)

Movie Night (Loki x Female Reader)

Overtime (One Shot Series) Overtime (Loki x Female Reader) Daylight (Loki x Female Reader)

Unraveled (Loki x Female Reader)

Safehouse (Loki x Female Reader)

A Girl Back Home (One Shot Series) Wildest Dreams (James Conrad x Female Reader) Come Back, Be Here (James Conrad x Female Reader)

Captain’s Orders (James Conrad x Female Reader)

two-shots

Close Quarters - Part 1 | Part 2 (Loki x Female Reader)

four to five shots

Conquer - (Loki x Female Reader)

multi-chapter

As the Clock Strikes Midnight (Loki x Female Reader)

[lady-rose-moon]

Every one of your scars || 18+ || James Conrad || Kinktober ||

Part of my Kinktober Masterlist that you can find ~here~

My main Masterlist can be found ~~here~~

Summary: Conrad is back from his time on Skull Island and you have to reassure him about his scars.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, handjob m!receiving, sex

Since Conrad returned from that damned island, he had been different. He was more anxious, doubly paranoid but he wasn't looking over his shoulder, he was constantly looking above him as if something would swoop down and claim him from the air. After hearing about what he had faced, you understood his constant paranoia. Giant apes, spider legs that looked like trees, brutal creatures that had no right to exist. You shuddered as Conrad explained it all.

Now, a month later, you were stood in front of your wardrobe, watching Conrad peel off one of his sinfully tight shirts and you saw the scars that he had been uncomfortable with showing you. You saw his unease in the Mirror, his frown as you raked your eyes around the canvas of his skin.

"Don't look," the retired soldier whispered, catching your eye in the mirror. You frowned and took a step closer to him, your hands dancing over the raised scars and his shoulder blades. You had never seen the Captain feel insecure about his scars but the island was the exception. He hated all of the scars that he had gained, physically but also mentally. No matter What, you would always help him through his trauma.

"Why shouldn't I look?" You asked softly, your lips pressing against his soft skin, "You are my boyfriend. I am allowed to look."

"But not at these," the captain protested, "these show the worst few days I will ever experience!"

You clicked your tongue and examined his back before shaking your head, kissing every scar that you could find, “they show you survived, James, you survived and came home to me.”

His whole body was tense as he stared at you from the mirror and you sighed, your hands sliding across the expanse of his back, delicately tracing the lines of his scars. “Would you like me to show you just how much I love your body?” you purred in his ear and you relished at the pleased shiver that ran through his body.

You watched the Captain nod his head faintly and grinned. 

“I love this perfectly sculpted body,” you whispered, pressing kisses up his back before circling him and peppering kisses up his abdomen to his pecs, “it’s so strong and fought off unnamed beasts! This is the body of a man who knows he is strong!”

“I constantly dream of this,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on him as you boldly cupped his cock through his boxers and smiled as you felt him stir beneath your hand, “your hard cock driving into me on that helicopter, going through the storm, allowing the turbulence to assist me with riding the length of it, cumming just as we get to the other side.”

“Darling…” Conrad whispered, his brows pulling together but you shushed him.

“I may not have been there, James, but let me shift some memories into dirty thoughts to take away the trauma,” you pleaded, watching as he broke and nodded. Fulfilled, you continued with your demonstration by kissing down his powerful neck and feeling the muscles flex beneath your lips, “I love this strong neck, love how powerful your voice is as you command your team. I bet you could have barked orders at the men on that island even if my pussy was wrapped so snugly around your cock, distracting you so perfectly.”

James seemed to deflate and nod with eagerness and that spurred you on. “These hands,” you whispered, grabbing one of his hands and licking from his palm to his fingertip, “they hold the power to kill but also send me into unbelievable realms of pleasure.”

You guided him backwards and watched him fall on the bed, his eyes full of love and trust but also an inkling of uncertainty. You straddled his powerful thighs and rolled your clothed pussy against his hardened length in his boxers. Boldly, you reached down and pulled his boxers off, feeling his cock press insistently against your cunt. After a moment, you removed your panties and sunk down on his length. 

“I love your cock,” you whispered, bouncing boldly on his cock, head thrown back in pleasure and hands resting on his chest to brace yourself, “I love how it pounds into me, claiming me over and over and leaving me wanting more and more each time! I get drunk off the pleasure of your cock constantly!”

“Oh darling,” he moaned, thrusting his hips to drive the hell out of your pussy. His hands reached up to grab your hips, and he slammed into you even harder.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the room, and every now and then his pelvic bone gently brushed against your clit. The sensation was sweet and intense, and you felt like you were both reaching a climax together.

Your back arched off the bed, your orgasm sparked to life, and suddenly your hand was between your legs, your fingers rubbing the precum that was leaking from your swollen pussy. You were rubbing your clit furiously, trying to reach your peak. You felt his fingers slip between your cheeks, though you couldn’t even make out which part of your pussy he was fingering, but you didn’t care.

All you cared about was bringing yourself to climax.

“James…” you gasped, as you felt your fingers begin to tire, your arm tiring from the powerful circles of your clit, “make me cum, captain, use those expert fingers to bring your girlfriend to her orgasm on your powerful cock! God, I swear I will never get enough of your cock!”

Conrad smirked and as his hips continued to slam up into yours, his dexterous fingers slid to your clit and two began to circle once your tired fingers left your abused clit. You immediately sighed in pleasure and moaned, “that’s it, Captain, finger me just like that. Oh, shit!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you like a brick wall and you felt him still beneath you before warm ropes of cum filled you up. 

“That’s it, baby,” you whispered, your hands gently exploring the expanse of his chest tiredly as you came down from your high, “you did so well for me, I love you.”

James smiled at you and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead when you curled up beside him and he held you close as you both slipped into sleep. Rest assured, the Captain was seen shirtless more often after that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65

[the-departed-potato]

Therapist: “You can tell a lot about someone’s situation by what they read. So I would like you to make a list of what you are currently reading.”

Me: “Well I mostly read fan fiction”

Therapist: “That’s fine just send me the links”

Me: um..... 👀

[little-moonbeam-666]

October 10th - Kinktober

God, I Love The Jungle

James Conrad Sex Pollen Dirty Talk

A/N: Hey lovelies. I’m trying my best to catch up to where I’m supposed to be. But here’s another lovely James Conrad fic for you <3

You hated the jungle. The sun was beginning to set and the steamy temperatures were growing colder. The night came fast in the jungle. If only you didn’t take this job, you’d be at home in a warm bed instead of in the middle of a bug and monster infested jungle.

“You doing ok, Y/N?”

You turned to Conrad and gave him the fakest smile you could muster.

“Just fuckin’ peachy.” you practically growled. You didn’t mean to take out your anger on him. None of this was his fault. He was dragged into this mess just as much as you were.

“Put the claws away, kitty cat. Just trying to make conversation.”

“Sorry. Please remind me why I was even needed on this stupid mission?” you asked, taking a few large steps to catch up with Conrad’s long strides.

“Because Randa and Brooks think that you’d be useful to me.” he said, giving you a small smile. You practically rolled your eyes at him, not believing for a second that you’d be useful in any way.

“Yes, put a simple botanist in the middle of a fucking jungle! What a smart fucking idea! This isn’t my greenhouse, Conrad! I know NOTHING when it comes to this landscape.”

“Darling,” he started, stopping in his tracks and turning to look at you. “You know a hell of a lot more than me about plants. You’re here to keep me from getting poisoned…. or killed.”

You huffed, knowing he was right. You shouldn’t have been angry but you were hot and tired and just wanted to rest.

“Should we set up camp?” you asked, hoping he would say yes.

“Yeah, it’s getting dark. Do you wanna set up the tent while I secure the perimeter?”

“Ok.” you said quietly, setting your stuff down and grabbing the tent and attempting to set it up.

You’d gotten the tent set up and were quietly waiting inside of it for Conrad to return. It was about 5 minutes later, the last rays of sunshine beginning to disappear, when you heard footsteps and peeked out the entrance to see Conrad. Sweat covered his forehead and a few droplets were rolling down his neck, soaking into his shirt. In all honesty, he didn’t look so good.

“Conrad, are you okay?” you asked, getting up and making your way over to him. 

“Yeah, just a bit hot. Maybe you should’ve come with me to scope out the perimeter. There was some weird plant that I accidentally stepped on. It released a plume of pollen around me. On my way back I started sweating.” he explained. You needed to find out what this plant was to determine if he was going to be alright.

“Where was it?” you asked, ready to figure out what plant caused Conrad to look so feverish.

“Just that way.” he said, pointing to his right. “Go past about 5 or 6 trees that way and there’s a huge patch of these plants. The leaves are bright red and the flowers are a deep purple color. You can’t miss them.”

“Conrad, go lie down while I go check this out.” you said, pointing to the tent.

You watched silently as he made his way into the tent before you turned and set out to find whatever plant did this to him. You kept the light from your flashlight on the ground in front of you, in search of the red and purple foliage. After passing 6 large trees, a large plume of pollen surrounded you. You looked down, realizing you’d stepped right into the same patch of plants that Conrad had stepped in.

You coughed as you accidentally breathed in the pollen. A brief wave of dizziness washed over you, but vanished just as quickly. Well that wasn't good. You leaned down, examining the plant without touching it. Your eyes went wide when you realized what this was. You’d read about these plants in your studies. You couldn’t remember the name of it but it was an extremely rare species. The pollen from this plant was an aphrodisiac. God, you really fucking hated the jungle.

You quickly made your way back to camp, trying to find a way to calmly tell Conrad about your findings. About halfway back you could feel yourself beginning to sweat. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand and continued making your way back to camp. 

When you got back to the camp, you immediately went to the tent to check on Conrad. There was a small battery operated lantern lighting up the tent. He was shirtless now, his sweat having soaked through his thin blue shirt, and his head was thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut. Apparently he was trying to fight it off. Your mouth watered at the sight and you could feel your slick pooling in your panties. The urge to mount and ride him was practically screaming at you by this point but you pushed it aside, determined to get through explaining to Conrad that you’ve both been infected by the aphrodisiacal plant.

“Conrad,” you started. His eyes opened and shot to yours. He gritted his teeth and his hands balled into fists, attempting to keep his composure. “I figured out what that plant was.”

“And?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“It won’t kill us. Or harm us really.” you breathed out. You had to clench your legs together to alleviate the aching between your thighs. 

“Us?” he asked, a bit confused.

“The pollen got to me too while I was searching for it.” you explained.

“Then what is it exactly?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac…. A strong one.”

“Well that explains a lot…. fuck.” he grumbled, turning over onto his side.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you crawled into the tent and layed down on your sleeping bag, hoping that the arousal would go away on it’s own. You shut your eyes, hoping you would fall asleep. But you couldn’t. The aching only got worse and you could feel that your panties were soaked, as was the crotch of your jeans.

“Y/N.” you heard Conrad whisper from his side of the tent.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. I need release.” he admitted, still not facing you. You rolled over to face him, the slight friction between your legs making you whimper.

“Me too.” you admitted quietly.

Conrad rolled over to face you and your eyes immediately scanned over his exposed upper chest and went down to his covered cock, the large bulge straining against his pants.

“Please, Y/N.” he whispered quietly, his voice laced with desperation.

You nodded your head and in an instant he was on you, pressing you on to your back. He kissed you fervently, his tongue sliding against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, holding him against you. You could feel his bulge against your covered center and bucked your hips, desperate for friction. He moaned into your mouth as he rutted against you like an animal in heat.

“Y/N… oh fuck!” he groaned.

“James, please!” you moaned, not even realizing that this was the first time you’d ever used his first name.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’ve gotta be inside you. I wanna feel your tight cunt around my dick.” he moaned, quickly standing up and undoing his pants and pushing them to the ground. You made yourself busy, stripping yourself until you were completely bare and laid out for him.

You looked up at him and grinned, spreading your legs for him to see your glistening slit. He was quickly on you once again, kissing and nipping at your lips, jaw, and neck. You could feel the tip of his hard cock nudging against your clit with every move.

As Conrad sucked a dark bruise on your collarbone, he moved his hand between the two of you, grasping his cock and lining it up with your entrance before pushing inside. You moaned loudly as Conrad started fucking you at a punishing pace, feeling your walls stretch around his large length.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N!” he groaned against your neck.

“Mmm I need it, James! Fuck me hard!” you said, raking your nails down his back. His thrusts became harder, his pubic bone hitting hard against your swollen clit and making you scream.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asked through gritted teeth as he continued to pound you.

“Yes, James! Oh fuck, I can feel you in my fucking stomach!” you moaned, looking down and watching the outline of his cock appear in your lower abdomen with every inward thrust.

“That’s it, baby. Watch my cock ruin this pretty little pussy! I can feel your cunt fluttering around my dick with every thrust. Fuck, you feel like heaven!” He moaned, looking down at you, his eyes glancing back and forth between your face and your breasts that were bouncing with your movements. 

You smiled as you roughly pushed on Conrad’s shoulders, pushing him to lay flat on his back. You didn’t give him the chance to ask what you were doing before you straddled him, placing your hands on his chest and sinking down on his cock. You braced yourself as you bounced vigorously on his dick, the new angle causing his dick to press directly against your g-spot.

His hands gripped your hips, helping you move up and down. You could tell his fingers would leave bruises but you didn’t care. You switched from bouncing to grinding, rolling your hips seductively against his, making his eyes roll back.

“Do you like this James?” you asked breathily, purposely grinding your clit against the coarse pubic hair at the base of his cock. “Do you like when I fuck you?”

“Yes, baby girl! Fuck, your pussy’s so fucking wet. You’re literally dripping around me. Fuck, look at your tits… so fucking perfect.” he moaned. One of his hands trailed up from your hip to one of your breasts, squeezing it and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“Oh fuck, James, I’m gonna cum!” you moaned, rocking your hips faster, chasing your release.

“Me too! Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum in this sweet little pussy, baby!”

Both of you chased your highs over the next couple minutes, the tension building higher and higher. You could feel the coil in your belly get tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. Bright white flashed in your vision and your legs shook as your orgasm took over. James wasn’t far behind you, his hips snapping against yours a few more times before he let out a loud moan of your name, his cock twitched inside you and you felt his hot release coating your still fluttering walls. He leaned down, pressing his lips gently against yours as he pulled out and moved to lay on his side next to you.

The heat in your belly had subsided a bit, but was still present and lingering. You knew the two of you would end up fucking again before the night was over. You glanced over at Conrad and smiled.

“This pollen is going to take all night to get out of our systems.” you stated. James smiled back at you.

“Well lucky for you, I’m ready for round two.” he said, his hand going back down to stroke his cock which was still hard and leaking. You could feel the heat beginning to spread through your body once more but as you moved to climb on top of him again, he stopped you.

“What?” you asked. He chuckled.

“Now that we have a little more control over ourselves, I wanna get a taste of that pretty little pussy.” he growled, moving between your legs before throwing them over his shoulders and giving you the best night of your life. Maybe, just maybe, you were learning to love the jungle.

Tags:@memenerdlover​ @lindsey-laufeyson @baby-shy @xxnylevexx03​ @stuckybarton @mary1raven @placeoftime @fax-forn @batboysdoll​ @deepestdreampatrolpurse @brogierogie14 @adastra-pertenebris @makaylaluv @accountdeletedpleasedisregard @tmccarney @groovynachos​ @hisroyalmajesty @high-functioning-lokipath​ @deanaddicted2​ @dopeqff​ @lokistoriesblog​ @justasecretwriter​ @40sbuckyy​ @withlovetohiddleston​ @alicebaskervilleposts