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mzllsit · 23 days ago

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ᯓ “IN YOUR WILDEST

DREAMS.” ۶ৎ

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad, but he does it so well.” (TAYLOR SWIFT.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader.

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo.) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. angst. blowjobs. slight age difference. gagging. rough oral sex. violence. blood. slight manipulative in-ho?? (not as bad as it sounds.)

GENRE. smut, slight fluff?

“PART TWO OF ‘SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG’ AS REQUESTED!!!!

(I SUGGEST READING ^ FIRST AS THE PLOT WOULD MATCH UP EASIER FOR YOU!!!

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ the day following yours and in-ho’s small.. ‘interaction’ left you feeling hopeless as you found that he had been avoiding you since the second he left you vulnerable in that bathroom. a million questions spiralled in your head to what possibly could be the reason he was acting so stubborn and hell, did you want your answers. taking matter into your own hands, you cornered in-ho into giving you the answers you want and deserve.. until you found yourself in a rather.. sticky situation?

!!!!AUTHORS NOTE!!!!! . . . in this fanfic i twisted up the story a smudge and basically removed the whole last scene of the rebellion and replaced it with the aftermath of the night games and the players making their way up toward their 4th game just so this story would kinda like make sense bruh??? and on another note the comments left on my last post were so supportive istg my ego is through the roof yall i love it. also, im thinking of writing a story with the love interest being sangwoo cuz hes been my man since day one guys. lmk who u want to see me write about next and thank you so much for all your support!!!!!!!! ᥫ᭡

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the hours following after the blood bath that erupted amongst the players felt as though they could last a million lifetimes. you watched as the pink covered guards entered the room with those obnoxious boxes, plush and dark with a taunting pink bow on the top just to add another “fuck you” to the players about their power while they scrooped up the bodies of the dead.

blood seemed to be on every surface your eyes could catch, the floor, walls, even the beds as you watched a guard carry a limp body of a woman who’s stomach was mutilated and open for all to see, her eyes fluttered shut to show she probably was attacked in her sleep. you couldn’t help but feel bile rise in the back of your throat at the scene, swallowing the acid back down to your stomach with a trembling lip. how can anyone be so fucking inhumane?

yet while you fought away your vomit, your eyes pinned onto a familiar body who was being carried into a box. nam-yu’s wide, dead eyes felt as though they were following your live ones as they lowered him into the box. instantly your mind snapped to the memory of in-ho puncturing the metal pole in through his heart and feeling his warm, crimson blood drip along down your face before his body collapsed ontop of you. this time, your final view of the man who tried to end your life was left with a hole through his body and his head tilted up to stare at the ceiling as they slid the lid of the box over his body.

and yet the man who saved your life seemed to have removed himself from it completely as he sat in the same corner with gi-hun, jung-bae and the rest of their alliance, his eyes staring at the ground with what looked like guilt but with feeling your eyes on him, he tilted his own to look back at you for a short moment which made your heart rattled against your chest before his attention was quickly yanked away as jung-bae opened his mouth to talk.

so here you sat across the room, feeling like a crumb that was kicked under the carpet, longed to be forgot about. not even an hour ago he was staring up at you from between your legs like you were a prized antique, fragile and precious and made to be cherished. now here he is, running a firm hand through his messy hair, not daring to look in your direction. how man like of him.

biting the flesh from under your finger nails you sat a few bunk beds away from your group while the x’s stayed firm in their side of the room but this time each of the sides were down by far more numbers and looked slightly more frightened than ever before.

“hey. .” a soft voice came and dragged you out of your thoughts as you turned your head at the sound of your name. player 120 looked down at you softly, hands tightly at her side to try not to spook you. “my god, i thought you were dead.” she whispered a little breathlessly as she smiled a sweet smile she knew you needed yet you could tell she was more than thrilled to see your face alive and well.

cho-hyun ji her name was, she was someone you stuck along side with during all of the games you played. she and her group recruited you to be theirs during the second game where you shocked your group with your skill of spinning top. to be honest, despite your angered shape it was more than soothing to see such a kind and comforting face after everything.

“come, sit with us.” slowly and carefully she brought her hand up to settle on your shoulder yet not firmly enough to scare you or pressure you.

your eyes were brought to the group who you found to be staring back at you with a smile, player 222, she held her large belly with one hand yet her other tapped the spot next to her, signalling you to sit. gi-hun, the leader you supposed also offered a kind smile toward your way where as in-ho’s dark eyes stared in way you couldn’t quiet put your tongue on. lust? anger? guilt? who knows, instead you took hyun-ji’s hand and followed her over to the rest of the group and ignored the fiery feeling in your stomach.

“ah-haha! there she is!” jung-bae called out from his seat on the stairs and before you could even respond he pulled you into a tight, suffocating embrace, his plump arms patting your back while he chuckled. “we thought we lost you for a second there!” you laughed kindly at the groups relief of seeing your face again and as jung-bae released his bear grip on you, from over his shoulder you caught eyes with in-ho, a strand of his dark hair fell over his eyes which looked like they darkened in colour at the view of you two, and fuck, did it make your stomach sink.

after your small reunion with the group you finally took your seat inbetween player 222 and gi-hun, who affirmed your nervousness with a warm smile yet you could see the pain from behind his eyes as he quickly returned his attention back toward the conversation jung-bae and his marine friend were bantering about. you guessed they were probably trying to make the best out of a bad situation judging by how deflated and scared most of you seemed.

your mind blurred with whatever conversation was happening amongst your friends and instead your eyes pinned to stare at the pink, square guards that stood at the metal double doors, then stared to in-ho, then back to the guards. what correlation did this man have with them? because hell, theres no way they would’ve opened that door even if you pleaded with your whole life and still they allowed him with you at his side to slide away from death and into heavens gates? it made no sense to you at all. and why was it so easy for him to act as though nothing between you had even happened not even a few hours ago when it was eating you up from the inside not to scream in his face.

maybe im overreacting? you thought. anyone in this room is just as desperate for sex, he probably saw you in that bathroom as a stress reliever, a one ‘night’ stand that he could easily slip away from with no feelings attached? sure, it made sense, but nor did it stop the way you felt towards him and it definitely did not make sense on how easily those guards let him live. this man has power, and nobody else knows about it.

and you were going to find out what is was, even if it costs you your life.

. . . .

“attention all players, the next game will commence shortly. please make your way toward the game hall!” the ai voice called from the several speakers around the room to which everyone began to shakily rise from their spots, making their way to the now opened doors.

“any idea on what the next games could be?” you heard jung-bae ask gi-hun, to which gi-hu replied with a tight shrug, assuring that the games have changed since the last time he played and that it was completely out of his power. gi-hun was kind and definitely did not deserve all that was racking on his shoulders, besides, he was a good man with a good heart.

you stuck behind the crowd, following tightly behind hyun-ji while the rest of your group walked through the doors to where the bright colours of the spiralled hallways illuminated and burnt your eyes. in-ho followed closely behind you, alone, and you could practically feel the way his eyes burnt holes at the back of your head. this was your opportunity.

hyun-ji chatted alongside player 246, making their way hastily up the stairs while you shortened your steps, slowing your legs down down and listening quietly to in-ho behind, who’s steps were beginning to match your pace.

waiting until you were out of sight, you twisted your head around to face in-ho behind you before using all your strength to pull and yank him up against the wall, anger lacing your eyes. even though you were at an advantage, his height still towered over you, like he could swallow you whole as he stared down at you, grinning. you felt vulnerable at how beautiful he looked pinned against a wall, keeping his eyes calm and settled on you, hair messy and scattered along his relaxed features.

“mm, little girl finally found her strength, yeah?” his tone was glazed sweetly like honey with a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue as he took the view of you, knitted eyebrows, hair pulled back into a loose bun as you panted harshly with your hand tight against his chest, trying to keep him still.

“youve been avoiding me.” your chest heaved, staring into his souls with attempted anger yet a slight glisten of lust shimmer behind your eyes. the way you had him pinned reminded you of how he had you in that bathroom, pretty face buried between your legs and eating you out like a man starved of thirst. it sent your thighs to clench just at the thought.

“i have reasons.” his tongue poked on the inside of his cheek, the nerves in his jaw clenched for a moment yet he never broke eye contact or even tried to move out of your grip.

“oh yeah? what reasons, cause i sure as hell know theres something up with you.” you gripped his shirt harder under your shaking hands, yanking his shirt forward in attempt to gain your dominance. he laughed. right in your fucking face, soft and innocent but fuck did it damage your ego.

“reasons that don’t concern you, sweetheart.” the nickname rolled on his tongue in a way that sent butterflies to spiral in the pit of your stomach and your cheeks to flush in a soft pink colour. “now, are we going to do this the nice way, or my way.”

now it was your turn to laugh, cocking an eyebrow and yanking his shirt tighter toward you so his face was inches from yours. “you don’t fucking scare me, in-ho.” you spat, face now laced with seriousness as you stood you firm ground.

“well, so be it.” he shrugged firmly before his hand wrenched around your wrist and yanking it behind your back in a split second. crying out in pain, he shoved your back against him to where your ass pressed firmly against his front while his other hand wrapped around your mouth to muffle your yells. your free arm clawed and slapped against the arm that quietened you yet his strength overpowered yours so easily.

“why’d you have to be so difficult, hm?” his lips were so close to your ear lobe that his hot breath ticked against the plush of your neck.

“fuck you..” you whispered out from a shaky breath, feeling embarrassed at how quickly the tables turned in just a few seconds. then, he chuckled again, but instead this one came out darker.

“as you wish.” he whispered into the crook of your neck before grabbing both your wrists with one hand and used his other to yank the door handle behind him that his back pressed against, shoving you both inside.

the first thing that caught your eye was the long walk way and how nearly every material of the room was covered in gold decor, walls covered in black paint with shelves of whiskey and liquor that probably dated back to centuries ago sat behind a glass case while in the centre sat a large tv half the size of the room. on the screen played footage of the players still walking up the stairs to the game, in front sat a plush, leather couch with a side table that had a half drank glass of bourbon ontop. next to that sat a mask, yet it was different from the one the guards wore and it made your skin tingle.

yet your wondering eyes were stopped in their tracks as in-ho pressed himself tighter against your lower back before leading you forward through the walkway, his breathe tickling softly against your skin.

“you’re shaking.” he spoke against your pulse point in your neck, still pining your wrist behind you as he walked you like a fucking dog toward the plush sofa to where he brought you round to the front. slowly, his long fingers trailed up your body, not once letting his lips leave your skin as he practically inhaled your scent. eventually they landed on your clothed shoulder before he pressed down on it for you to lower yourself down on your knees.

fuck. you tried to swallow the lump that grew in your throat as you sat on your knees in front of him, watching as he man spread out before you, arms resting behind him while he stared down at you with that same fucking smirk that made you clench your legs.

“who are you working fo—“ the words muffled your throat before you were shoved face first into his crotch, feeling his hard erection through the material of his joggers. he rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his trousers and you swore you heard a small, whiny hum from his lips.

“shh.. why don’t you use that pretty mouth of yours for a greater good, hm?” his large palm petted the back of your head, stroking you like you were a soft animal as you swallowed the gathering saliva that gathered anxiously in your mouth. “do me well and ill answer any questions you have for me, sweetheart. deal?”

you nodded your chin up and down as you slowly edged your finger to the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms, pulling them slowly with shaking fingers. feeling your trembling touch, in-ho brought a warm palm to your cheek, thumb running comfortingly over the scar left under your eye as his eyes glistened beautifully under the gold lighting. and shit, you swore you get sticky just at his touch.

“mhm, just like that.” he coed down at you quietly, treating you as precious that if he spoke to loud you would shatter like a piece of glass. being validated by him was a drug you never knew you needed, and hell, were you addicted. cautiously, you began pulling at his clothes again until they were down to his thighs, leaving him in a pair of calvin kline boxer briefs. hot and ironic, judging his rich scent you werent exactly surprised to see them with his large bulge staring back at you.

for a moment, you looked up at him to where he was already staring back down at you, palm still cupping your cheek as he gave a gentle nod of approval before your finger tips brushed at the elastic top of his pants as softly yanking them down. fuck.

his size practically made your mouth gape open slightly, your wide eyes taking in the mouthwatering sight. a baby pink tip beaded and glistened with pre-cum while a pretty vein ran along the side of his cock, starting from his base and traveling the full way to the tip. you gulped at his girth, fantasising at how perfectly he could satisfyingly fill you up against this fucking couch.

“please.” he mumbled, sounding breathless already and slightly needy as he took one hand to gather your soft hair into a ponytail before shoving your head down harshly on his cock, forcing his tip to stab against the back of your throat which made your eyes fill with tears as you choked.

bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around his large girth perfectly while your palms sat firm on either side of his thighs for support. the sounds leaving his mouth were like they were sent from heaven, breathless and desperate, almost enough to make you cum there and then. his fingers interlinked with the roots on your hair, tugging on the strands.

bringing yourself up from his cock, you admired the way it glistened with your saliva as you caught your breath. for a moment, you looked up to capture the view of this man, his head tilted back as his adams apple bobbed in his throat while his eyes wrenched shut. he was fucking beautiful and vulnerable while you sat in between his legs, it made you want to suck him dry until he cried out your name to stop.

gently, you leaned you head back down to his tip, using your tongue to kitten lick around the base to taste the sweetness of his pre-cum. this caused in-ho to grip at your hair painfully, letting out a deep groan at the way you teased his sensitive tip.

“who do you work for?” you whispered against his length and you swore you felt it twitch between your hand as you used one to work at the base of his cock while your tongue remained along his tip, licking long stripes.

“i dont work for nobody.” he grumbled from the couch, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his chest heaving slightly at how beautifully you worked and treated him. “what makes you think i do, hm?”

“during the night those guards just—“ you gripped on the meat of his thigh as he shoved your mouth back down on his cock, making you gag out loudly against him which sent shivers down his spine at the vibration. tears battled behind your eyes at the burning that began to ride in the back of your throat yet his cock continued to thrust harsher and deeper between your lips.

you couldn’t even breathe against him, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit as he continued to shove his dick balls deep in your snappy mouth that got you in this position in the first place. sucking and gagging along his cock felt euphoric for you, even leaving your panties wet with your slick yet you attempted to cross your legs at the uncomfortable, sticky feeling that grew in between them.

squeezing on his thighs, you felt hot tears stream from your cheeks while your mouth battled with the roughness of his thrusts as he fucked your mouth vigorously. soon enough, your knees bucked at the way he twitched in your mouth before his warm cum coated every surface of your mouth, filling you up completely.

“fuck..” he panted harshly, letting go of the grip of hair he held to look down at you with your mouth full of cum. your lips were puffy and pink while your cheeks stained with tears as you swallowed harshly, his taste leaving a sweet tingle on your tongue. then, he took your face in with hand hand, lifting your chin up to look at him as he squeezed both sides of your cheeks between his fingers.

“look at me when i talk to you.” he grunted down at you, fluttering your eyelashes to look at his face with your glossy eyes as you sniffled slightly. taking one hand, he wiped a drip of cum from the crease of your lips before tugging at your hair to open your mouth. sliding his thumb between your lips, you licked of the residue with the warmth of your tongue, then softly he removed it with a short pop.

“you’re a smart girl, yeah? but not smart enough to understand what danger you have put yourself in.” his tone was gentle, yet his words made your heart thump wildly against your chest. the fuck does that mean? you wanted to ask, yet you chewed on your tongue to not do so.

“i dont.. understand?” you almost choked on your words, eyebrows knotting into a thrown as you felt just as clueless as before, yet this time with a slight bit of your dignity stripped judging by the fact you had to suck off a potentially dangerous stranger because you were curious.. well, not just that. but still, he had your mind lopped in confusion thats for sure.

“i don’t expect you to, sweetheart.” he coed, twirling your soft hair between his finger tips while his other still remained on keeping your chin up at him. “but, please, understand this.”

slowly, he lowered his head down toward yours, brushing his thumb along the softness of your bottom lip. in-ho stopped to trace his lips along your ear lobe, nibbling at the soft skin before opening his mouth to whisper upon it. “if anyone even dares to hurt you, i promise ill chop off every single one of their fingers and serve them to you on a silver platter.” he chuckled against your neck, licking a nipping at the skin as he felt you tremble bellow him.

“with their head as dessert.” he growled in your ear, violence and threat slashed on his tongue while he used his spare arm to scoop you up from the plush carpet floor and into the warmth of his lap. “do you understand that?”

“yes.” your bottom lip trembled and eyes widened with the seriousness of his tone, and fuck did he mean every word of it. nor did you hesitate to believe him either, taking your hands to wrap around the back of his neck and rest your chin into the crook of his neck, inhaling the expensive scent he let off.

“thats my girl.”

#squid game #squid game x reader #in ho x reader #hwang in ho #front man x reader #front man #smut #hwang in ho x reader

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missarchive · 19 days ago

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american jesus² ☆

spencer reid

part one part two part three part four

summary; Spencer continues to spoil you with thoughtful gifts and lavish attention, each gesture reinforcing the growing bond between you both. Despite the lingering questions and unspoken emotions, Spencer becomes more protective and possessive, revealing his vulnerability and need to care of you. As you begin to navigate the complexities of your unconventional arrangement, the lines between business and genuine affection begin to blur, leaving you both caught between desire and uncertainty.

cw; +18 minors dni, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk, munch!spencer, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, reader calls spencer "sir"

an; thank you for so so much love on the first part! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

You exchanged messages almost daily after that. His words were always careful, deliberate, as if he’d spent hours considering each one. He asked about your life—not in a prying way, but with genuine curiosity. He wanted to know your interests, your struggles, the little details that most people overlooked.

In return, he offered glimpses of himself. He told you about his love of books, how his job kept him busy and isolated, and how he’d joined the site not for anything shallow, but because he craved a connection that he hadn’t found anywhere else.

As the days turned into weeks, your messages grew longer, more personal. You learned that he didn’t like crowded places, that he drank too much tea, and that he had a habit of quoting obscure facts when he was nervous.

But despite the growing intimacy of your conversations, there was always a wall between you—a hesitance to reveal too much. Neither of you had shared your real name or details about your work. It wasn’t unusual for this kind of arrangement, but it made everything feel more fragile, like the wrong word could shatter whatever it was you were building.

And then, one night, he sent a message that changed everything.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve been thinking... I’d like to meet you in person. If you’re comfortable, of course.

Your heart raced as you read the words. You had been expecting this—waiting for it, even—but now that it was here, you weren’t sure what to say.

@ laceandliterature; Are you sure?

@ thefourthdoctor; I am. But only if you feel ready. I don’t want you to feel pressured.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to meet him—you couldn’t deny that. But there was a part of you that was afraid. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you weren’t what he expected?

@ laceandliterature; Let’s take a little more time. I’m not saying no. Just... not yet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Of course.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ll wait as long as you need. No pressure.

The conversation continued, and for the next week, things went back to normal—if what you had could even be called that. But the thought of meeting lingered at the back of your mind, growing stronger with every message he sent, every piece of himself he shared.

One night, as you lay in bed, scrolling through his messages, you made up your mind.

@ laceandliterature; Okay, Let’s meet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Are you sure, angel?

@ thefourthdoctor; Yes. I want to meet you, Spencer.

After a few more exchanges, you settled on a quiet café in the city—neutral territory. He insisted on keeping things casual, saying he didn’t want to overwhelm you. If anything, he was a gentleman.

The night before the meeting, you barely slept. You went over everything in your mind a hundred times, questioning your decision, wondering if you were making a mistake. But when the time came, you found yourself standing outside the café, heart pounding as you pushed the door open.

The first time you met Spencer in person, it wasn’t anything like you expected. You had imagined someone cocky, a man accustomed to throwing his money around to get what he wanted. But Spencer wasn’t that. Not even close.

He had chosen a quiet café for your meeting, one tucked away from the bustling city streets, its low lighting and intimate atmosphere offering a sense of privacy. When you arrived, you saw him sitting at a corner table, his long fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, his gaze fixed on a well-worn book.

You almost didn’t approach him. He looked so out of place, like someone who had wandered in by accident, unaware of the implications of what this kind of meeting entailed. But then he glanced up, and his eyes met yours.

You’d recognise those eyes anywhere. They were just as captivating as they had been in his profile picture—intelligent, kind, and curious, but with an edge of something deeper, something darker.

“Hi,” you said, hesitating at the edge of the table.

Spencer stood quickly, his movements awkward but endearing. “Hi. Please, uh, sit. I—I’m Spencer.”

His voice was softer than you expected, but there was a certainty to it that made you feel at ease. As you slid into the chair across from him, you couldn’t help but study him. He was... handsome.

His hair, a dark cascade of curls that fell just past his shoulders, framed his face like the softest of shadows. Each strand seemed to have a life of its own, unruly and free, yet perfectly suited to him, like a secret kept between the universe and his skin. The golden highlights that kissed the tips caught the light in a way that made him seem almost ethereal, as if sunlight was always seeking to touch him, to linger just a little longer.

His eyes—those eyes—the colour of moss after rain, deep and mysterious, filled with an intelligence that left you feeling both seen and understood, and yet so very far away. There was a quiet intensity in the way they studied everything around him, always searching, always analysing, as though the world was a puzzle he had yet to fully solve. But when they turned toward you, it felt like he was letting the world slip away, if only for a moment, letting you glimpse the tenderness he rarely allowed anyone to see.

His face, pale and angular, was sharp with youth and burdened wisdom all at once. His lips, though soft and pale, would part when he spoke, revealing a mix of shyness and urgency, like every word he shared carried weight. The stubble that traced the sharp edge of his jawline only emphasised the boyishness that lingered beneath the layers of genius and mystery. But it was his smile—rare and fleeting—that truly made your chest ache, a smile that cracked through the fortress around him, like the sun breaking through clouds.

There was something effortlessly magnetic about him, something that made you want to inch closer to understand the stories written in the lines of his face. And yet, just as quickly as he drew you in, there was always an invisible barrier, a space between you and the man that you were still trying to figure out. Spencer Reid was an enigma wrapped in vulnerability, each glance, each gesture, leaving you wanting more of the puzzle to unfold.

The first few minutes were stilted, filled with polite small talk about the weather and the café’s menu. But as the conversation flowed, the tension between you began to ease. Spencer wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. He spoke with a quiet intensity, his words precise and thoughtful, and he listened just as intently, as if everything you said held a weight he couldn’t ignore.

And then, inevitably, the topic shifted to why you were both there.

“So,” he began, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “I’m not, um... particularly experienced with this kind of arrangement.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candour. “You mean being a sugar daddy?”

He winced slightly at the term but nodded. “Yes. That. I—I don’t want you to think that I see this as transactional, at least not in the way it’s usually framed. I’m looking for... connection, I suppose. Someone to talk to. To spend time with. And if financial support is part of that, then I’m happy to provide it.”

His words caught you off guard. Most men on the site were upfront about their intentions—dinners in exchange for companionship, gifts in exchange for discretion. But Spencer’s tone was different. He wasn’t trying to seduce you or impress you with his wealth. He was just... honest.

You leaned back in your chair, studying him. “And what do you expect from me?”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting yours again. “I don’t have expectations. I only have... hopes. That you’ll be honest with me. That we can build something that feels mutually beneficial. And if, at any point, you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me. No strings, no pressure.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your chest tighten. This wasn’t a game to him. It wasn’t about power or control. It was about something deeper, something more human.

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “I think we can make that work.”

Over the next few weeks, your relationship settled into a rhythm. Spencer was generous, but not in a way that felt overbearing. And then there was the money.

He transferred it to your account without fanfare, always with a note attached. For groceries. For that art class you mentioned. For you.

At first, it felt strange, accepting so much from him. But Spencer never made it feel transactional. He never demanded anything in return, never made you feel like you owed him. It was simply his way of showing he cared.

The calls became a nightly ritual. He’d ask about your day, encouraging you to share every mundane detail as though it were the most important thing in the world. He never interrupted, never rushed you, and his thoughtful responses made you feel like the centre of his universe.

In return, you learned more about his life. He told you about the pressures of his job, the long hours, the cases that weighed on him. But he never dwelled on the darkness. Instead, he focused on the small joys: the satisfaction of solving a puzzle, the camaraderie of his team, the books he escaped into when the world felt too heavy.

And then there were the gifts.

It started with little things: a beautifully bound notebook because you’d mentioned wanting to journal, a box of your favourite chocolates, a scarf in your favourite colour. But soon, the gifts became more extravagant.

A delivery driver showed up at your door one afternoon with a box containing a designer handbag you’d admired in passing. Another day, you received an email confirming that Spencer had paid off your car loan, the subject line reading simply: You deserve this.

“Spencer,” you said when you called him that night, clutching the phone tightly. “You didn’t have to do that. I never asked for—”

“I know you didn’t,” he interrupted gently. “But I wanted to. Please let me do this for you.”

It was hard to argue with him when he sounded so sincere.

The next time you met in person, he handed you a small velvet box across the table. You opened it to find a delicate gold bracelet, simple but exquisite, the kind of thing that felt like it belonged in a museum.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice catching. “This is too much.”

His expression softened, his fingers brushing against yours as he helped you fasten the bracelet around your wrist. “Nothing I give you will ever feel like enough,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “But I’ll keep trying.”

He spoiled you in other ways too. He insisted on picking up the check whenever you went out, no matter how much you protested. When you mentioned that your laptop was acting up, a brand-new one arrived at your doorstep the next day.

But it wasn’t just about the money or the gifts. It was the way he made you feel cherished, valued, as though your happiness was the most important thing in the world to him.

One night, as you lay in bed after a long call, you found yourself smiling at the thought of him. It was more than just an arrangement now. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to care about him—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

The low hum of your phone’s speaker filled the quiet of your bedroom as you lay sprawled across your bed, Spencer’s voice soothing and familiar on the other end of the line. Tonight’s call had started like all the others—a mix of light teasing and genuine curiosity—but somewhere along the way, you felt the tone shift.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, fiddling with the bracelet he’d given you, its delicate chain glinting in the soft light of your bedside lamp.

“Of course,” Spencer replied, his voice gentle.

“How do you afford all of this?” you asked, hesitant but unable to keep the question bottled up any longer. “The gifts, the...everything. I mean, you’re so generous, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but I can’t help but wonder.”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough for doubt to creep into your mind. You opened your mouth to take it back, but then he spoke, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s a fair question,” he said softly. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

You heard him exhale, the sound heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

“I wasn’t always this...comfortable,” he began. “For most of my life, I never cared much about money. I didn’t really need to. My job covered the basics, and I didn’t have anyone to spend it on—not until now.”

His words made your heart tighten.

“What kind of job?” you asked tentatively.

“I was with the FBI,” he said, and though his tone was steady, there was a weight behind the words. “I worked as a criminal profiler for over a decade. It wasn’t easy, but it was...fulfilling, in its own way. We dealt with some of the worst humanity has to offer, but knowing we were helping people made it worth it.”

You sat up a little straighter, the revelation catching you off guard. “That sounds...intense.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But I loved it. The work gave me purpose. Until I got injured in the field,” he said quietly. “A knee injury. Nothing life-threatening, but bad enough that I couldn’t keep up with the demands of the job. I had to retire early.”

You could hear the mix of resignation and lingering frustration in his voice, and it tugged at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, meaning it.

“Don’t be,” he replied, a hint of a smile creeping back into his tone. “It gave me time to focus on other things—like figuring out what I wanted out of life. I realised I’d spent so much of my time chasing after criminals and trying to make the world a safer place, but I’d never really lived for myself.”

You bit your lip, unsure what to say.

“I had money saved up,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “I never spent much on myself. Just the necessities and the occasional book. So, when I found myself with all this extra time and money... I didn’t know what to do with it. And then I found the site.”

The mention of the website—the place where your strange, beautiful relationship had begun—sent a rush of warmth and something like embarrassment through you.

“I wasn’t looking for anything romantic,” he said quickly, as though reading your mind. “I just wanted...connection. Someone to talk to. And then I found you.”

You smiled, your heart softening. “And now you’re spoiling me rotten.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I don’t see it that way. I like taking care of you. It makes me happy.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “You don’t have to, though. You’ve already done so much.”

“I want to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I spent years putting my energy into a job that left me drained. Now, I finally get to do something that feels good. Something that matters to me. And you matter to me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion.

“Spencer,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your heart full.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that no matter how unconventional your relationship was, it worked. For both of you.

The next time you saw each other, things were different. You could feel the air between you crackling with an electric charge. The conversation flowed easily, but there was an undeniable tension lingering beneath the surface. Every touch seemed to hold more weight, every glance more meaningful.

After dinner, Spencer invited you back to his apartment. You could tell he was being cautious—he didn’t want to rush anything—but you could also feel that he was testing boundaries, subtly claiming his space. As you sat next to him on his worn out leather couch, his hand brushed against yours, and it felt like the world narrowed down to just the two of you. The quiet intimacy of the moment was powerful, and you both knew you couldn’t keep pretending that your relationship was just a simple arrangement anymore.

His voice broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said, his words low, careful. “About what we’re doing, and what it means. I can’t keep giving you everything and pretending it’s nothing. It’s not just about the money or the gifts anymore. I want to be more than that for you.”

You felt a surge of emotion, something between excitement and fear. This was what you had been afraid of—the moment when you’d realise that you wanted more, that this wasn’t just some transaction for you either. And you could see in Spencer’s eyes that he was struggling with the same feelings.

“I don’t want you to think that I only care about the money,” you said, your voice quiet but steady.

Spencer’s gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand slipping into yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I can’t stop myself from wanting to give you everything. I’m not used to feeling like this. Like I’m needed. I’ve spent so much of my life in control, always keeping my distance... but with you, it’s different.”

You squeezed his hand, understanding what he meant. You didn’t need him to explain further. There was an unspoken connection between you two now—a bond that was undeniable, something more than the surface-level arrangement you’d initially started with.

“I want to give you everything too,” you said softly, leaning in closer. “But you have to promise me something—promise me that this isn’t just about the money. Promise me that you actually want me.”

Spencer’s eyes held yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, his gaze so deep it felt as though he could see every hidden part of you. The air between you thickened, the unspoken tension finally reaching its breaking point. He took a slow step forward, the warmth of his body enveloping you, and for a heartbeat, everything else ceased to exist.

His hand lifted, cupping your cheek in a soft, yet possessive way, as if he was both cherishing and claiming you all at once. “I promise,” the gentle brush of his thumb over your skin sent a flutter through your chest, and before you could process it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, savouring the newness of it. But the moment you responded, the kiss deepened, urgency flooding in. Spencer’s lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the racing pulse in your veins. His hands, once gentle, now framed your face with a desperate kind of need, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Every touch, every press of his lips against yours, was electric. You could feel the raw intensity of everything he was holding back in that kiss—the longing, the desire, the tension of months spent on the edge, waiting for this moment. And when his tongue traced the line of your lower lip, a quiet gasp escaped you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, drawing you in like a magnet.

Your hands, almost instinctively, found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands that had once teased you from a distance, now so close you could feel the weight of them. His hair was soft, the strands slipping between your fingers as you tugged him closer, urging him to kiss you more fiercely.

As he kissed his way down your body, you could feel the anticipation building inside of you. You loved how he savoured you, like a piece of art he needed to take his time with. His fingers slid along your inner thighs, spreading you open for him. He groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your clit. “Look at you. Already dripping wet for me. What am I gonna do with you? Perfect, perfect girl.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his tongue swirled around your clit, the sensation of his warm mouth sending waves of pleasure through you. You arched your back off the couch, your hands tangling in his hair.

“Please,” you begged, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pressure building. “Please, sir. Please make me cum.”

Spencer moaned, his tongue dipping inside of you before returning to your clit. Teasing it gently with his tongue, his fingers slipping inside of you, working you open. You were already close, your walls tightening around his fingers as he fucked them into you slowly. Picking up the pace, his mouth latched onto your clit as you fell apart, your body trembling with your orgasm.

Spencer didn’t give you a second to catch your breath before he was kissing you again, his tongue pushing past your lips to taste you, tip of his cock nudging against your cunt. You weren’t even sure when he’d taken his clothes off, not that it mattered now. You whimpered as he slid inside of you, his cock stretching you open. He pulled back slightly, hips rolling against your own. “Keep your eyes open,” he commanded. “Need to see your face when you cum. Need to see what I do to you.”

You nodded, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he picked up the pace. He was relentless, slamming into you with deep, powerful thrusts.

You weren’t used to coming more than once in a row, with your poor excuses of previous partners, but with Spencer, it felt natural. He pushed you higher than you knew was possible, taking you to the edge of sanity every time you were together. And when you came, it was like a floodgate opened up, and all of that pent-up desire came pouring out of you.

He was whispering things to you, things that made you blush and preen, words that made you feel beautiful, wanted. You’d never felt like this before. You felt like a completely different person with him, someone who was capable of more than you ever thought.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Give it to me, princess. Let me feel you. Fuck, you feel so good around me,” he kissed you deeply as he drove inside of you, the pressure inside of you growing. “Cum for me, angel. Cum all over my cock.”

You heard him through a haze, your body trembling and shaking as the second orgasm rolled through you. You felt his cock pulse inside of you as he came, his teeth sinking gently into your neck as he rode out his own release. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him as close as possible as you hold onto him, his body pressing into yours.

Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, he whispers into your skin. “Stay the night?” He asked. “I don’t want you to leave yet, just got you here.” His voice was soft, gentle, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. You didn’t want to go either. You wanted to stay like this, wrapped up in his arms, for as long as possible. And that terrified you more than anything else. “Please?”

He looked at you, his eyes dark and sincere. Your heart fluttered at the look he was giving you. It was one you’d never seen before, one that made your breath catch in your throat.

It was a look that said he wanted more, and that scared you. But it also filled you with a warmth you couldn’t deny.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Okay.” And as Spencer pulled you back into his arms, kissing you gently, you realised that you might just be in trouble. He was already pulling you in, tempting you to stay. You were already falling for him, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop it. “I’ll stay.” You agreed.

“For tonight.” You added. You weren’t going to admit to more than that, not yet. “Just tonight.” Spencer nodded, his lips returning to yours.

You knew it was dangerous, you knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You wanted to be his, even if it was just for one night. You wanted to let him own you, let him love you. Even if it was just temporary, you wanted to feel that love for as long as you could. You knew it would hurt in the end, but you were too far gone to stop it now.

And when he whispered your name against your lips, you almost believed that it was real. That this wasn’t just temporary, but forever. Almost. You allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment, to believe the things he whispered to you. To believe that maybe this was it.

Maybe he was your forever, and you were his. Maybe this was something that could last longer than just one night.

Won't you take me to heaven tonight? You know you're my weakness American Jesus, save me You're the greatest love of my life

next part

#missarchive #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #bau x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds

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kikiiswashere · 2 months ago

Text

Four to Tango

As promised, part two of Waltzing for Three!!!

Thank you for helping me reach 200 followers for this little ol' blog of mine 🥰 And welcome to all the newcomers!

The idea for this ficlet was born of watching my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable help out a pregnant friend by lifting her belly off her hips, and it just sort of spiraled from there.

It's also worth noting that I myself am not a mother, nor have I given birth, nor do I wish to be a mom (husband got the ol' snip-snip). So why this fic? Good question 😅

That being said, I did my best to write about the labor process relatively accurately without getting into the super nitty-gritty of it 😂 So, please enjoy this weird little fever-dream of a fic, and please comment and reblog 💗

Tags for the interested parties: @luhmoon, @legendaryflowercheesecake, @thebeserkvernid, @miffysoo

Pairing: Established Silco x AFAB!Reader

Rating: Teen/Mature (brief reference to oral sex)

CW: Non-graphic descriptions of pregnancy and labor

Insistent cramping had woken you up in the wee-hours one morning, swelling and ebbing in a slow rhythm that sent your heart tapping, a loop of nerves coiling around your gut – little room that there was for it.

Silco had been a terribly light sleeper ever since Vander’s betrayal, ever since those early years on an under-tested Shimmer variant that left his brain unable to fully settle. So, the moment you shifted into a sitting position, he shot up as well.

“What’s wrong?”

Words got gummed up on fear and excitement in your mouth. There was a slight tremor in your fingers as they grazed over your belly. You had noticed it sitting even lower on your hips these past several days. While you were very done with being pregnant, you were still nervous and surprised to say –

“I think it’s time.”

With comical amounts of speed, but awe-inspiring grace, Silco flung himself from the bed, divesting himself of his eyepatch and pajamas. After changing into a simple set of trousers and an old button-up shirt, he fetched the stopwatch Jinx had invented to easily time your contractions, and wrote a tube prompting your midwife that she was needed. It had been decided early on that the babe’s delivery – barring any complications – would happen at The Last Drop. You, nor Silco, were willing to venture outside to a clinic when your family would be at its most vulnerable.

Too nervous to lay down, much less fall back asleep, you began pacing the large bedroom in your large sleep shirt. Every time a contraction locked up and spasmed through your lower belly and back, your fingers pressed the stopwatch’s clicker. And you breathed as the midwife had instructed. Silco kept you company, walking with you up and down the length of the bedroom, holding your hand and becoming an anchor to squeeze when contractions rolled through. Together, you both noted and kept track of their intervals. Their spacing and length suggested that the little one’s arrival was not imminent, but the consistency indicated that this was indeed labor.

The midwife arrived, ushered in by a half-asleep Sevika. You’d bribed her with an absurd bonus and several pre-paid sessions at Babette’s for her to crash in one of the Drop’s private guest rooms during these last days of your pregnancy. She was needed for security, and to stand-in for Silco when his attention and priorities would be elsewhere.

“Good luck,” she’d grumbled, barely glancing at you before shutting the bedroom door, and trudging back down the hall.

The midwife was a petite, wizened Vastaya who’d been selected for her services not only because of her field prowess, but because she was staunch loyalist to you and Silco. Shimmer had helped save more than one of her clients when the birthing process had begun to go sideways, and that was enough for her to hitch her wagon to your agenda.

She was also direct to the point of rudeness – a personality trait that was wholly welcome given the slippery, hidden, self-serving rhetoric you were used to having to deal with.

“Time?” she asked, setting her medical bag down on your dresser with a heavy thunk.

“Forty-five seconds to a minute, about every seven minutes,” you answered. Then gasped and doubled over as another contraction bent you.

The midwife hummed. “How long?”

“About an hour,” Silco said. He squeezed back at your hand as you rode out the current wave rolling through.

Clucking her tongue, the midwife shook her head, long ears slapping lightly against her horns.

“Early.”

Silco frowned. “You are being more than thoroughly compensated to show up whenever we ask.”

“Indeed. To the bed, miss. Let’s have a look.”

Once your legs were freed from the lock of the contraction, you shuffled to the bed. Silco helped you into position, and the midwife closed in. Her fingers were warm, but the tools were cold. The combination, along with your nerves, caused your lungs to shudder.

“Five,” she declared, drawing her head from between your thighs.

“That’s halfway,” you chuckled weakly. Silco brushed his thumb over your knuckles

The midwife hummed in agreement. “True. But as discussed, this process is not linear. And being your first delivery, it is very likely this will take a while. How is the pain?”

“Fine. Manageable.” It came out as a grit, but she didn’t seem to doubt you.

“You should eat and drink while you can. Is there anything else you want or need right now?”

Together, you and Silco walked to the small kitchen in your private quarters. You rested your forearms on the counter as the length of your spine hammocked behind you, hips gently swishing side-to-side. Silco kept the breakfast blissfully simple: toast with a light slather of butter, and a mug of warmed water with lemon.

Eating was slow going. Between the jitters and contractions, your appetite was seriously curbed. When you finally made it to the second piece of toast, Jinx shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-headed. Her bedraggled demeanor did not last long though, as her whip-quick senses tuned into the energy of the space. Big, blue eyes tracked between Silco – unusually underdressed – and your strange posture. One could nearly hear the cogs in her head clicking and whirring.

“Is it time?!”

In a flash, she clambered onto the stool next to you, bright and tittering. Her exuberance washed over you in a relieving breeze. Reaching over, you ran a hand through her unkempt hair.

“Sure is, kiddo.”

“When will he be here?”

“Could be a while yet, Jinx,” Silco answered. He set a glass of juice in front of her. “What would you like? Toad-in-the-hole? Porridge? Pancakes?”

“Make ‘em have a face!” she crowed.

A hook of a smile pulled at Silco’s mouth as he turned back toward the stove.

Jinx settled onto the stool; legs kicking merrily beneath her as she sipped her juice.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like intense menstrual cramps.”

Her small face squished in a ponder. While you had had that conversation with her, Jinx had yet to broach into that aspect of puberty. Thus, she had no point of reference.

“Kinda like when you roof-run after eating, and your abs cramp up,” you offered. “Kind of.”

A contraction swelled upon you, and you grit your teeth, face pinching, head dropping. Silco stepped away from the stovetop, and placed a grounding hand between your shoulder blades. Jinx watched, eyes wide and worried. Timidly, she shifted toward you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.

The pain continued, but was temporarily numbed by the overwhelming love and gratitude for the two people on either side of you.

Your family.

It was never part of the plan when it came to your Silco’s ideas to lift Zaun up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And in a few hours, three would be four. Your heart beat big, tapping against your throat as the contraction passed. You clicked the stopwatch.

“That seems worse than roof-run cramps,” Jinx said suspiciously.

You chuffed. “Like I said: Kind of.”

Silco rubbed his hand up and down your spine a few times, before kissing your temple and returning to the stove.

“You remember what we talked about?” you asked Jinx.

She fiddled with her hair, nodding. “I can come and go as I please.”

“Right. If you want to be with us, I want you to be there. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. You get to decide, and it doesn’t have to be right now.”

Jinx nodded again, eyes staring into the middle-distance. Reaching over, you brushed your fingers through her hair again. Her eyes snapped back to yours.

“Are you scared?”

You gave her a reassuring smile.

“No. I’m happy.”

It wasn’t a lie. But a few hours later, your happiness was thoroughly overshadowed by the pain of labor. It was staggering how it had intensified. How it was becoming near non-stop as the space between contractions shortened and shortened. Gravity felt impossible to contend with on top of everything else, so you sank onto your bedroom floor with a low, guttural growl.

Silco had been attentive throughout, anticipating your needs before you even voiced them. Ever your anchor, your source for steadiness. Even now, on your hands and knees, his own wide palms settled onto your hips and pressed in. It pulled an appreciative groan from your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my love.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Your eyes flicked to the bathroom door where Jinx was helping the midwife prepare a warm bath. You were proud of your girl. Admittedly, part of you doubted she would choose to stick around once labor became loud and more intense. When you could no longer keep yourself from crying out, hesitancy had flickered in her eyes, and her brows pitched in concern. But instead of dashing away, she’d reached for your hand and held tight.

“Is there anything you can give her?” she’d asked the midwife incredulously.

The female had smirked, impressed and moved by the girl’s protectiveness of you.

“I have mild pain relievers, but nothing that will fully numb – “

“Shimmer?”

The midwife’s black lips thinned. “That is only to be used in emergencies,” she explained. “It is too potent and powerful to be used for anything other than the most extreme circumstances. Which – “her eyes looked up at your haggard form on the bed – “does not seem probable. Her labor is progressing as it should. There is nothing to worry about.”

Jinx frowned, doubtful, and hunkered closer to your side.

“Seems like a dumb design that it hurts so much.”

“Agreed,” you wheezed.

“Come,” the midwife said, “let’s check you.”

She declared you’d progressed to eight centimeters. That had been three hours ago. And the pain just continued to climb and build.

A small sob burst through your teeth. Silco knelt at your side, quietly saying your name.

“I’m scared, Sil,” you admitted in a whisper. You were thankful Jinx wasn’t near to hear you back-pedal. Your breath hitched and words tumbled out: “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He took your warm and tear-streaked face between his hands, and repeated your name.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, your tired and wet eyes focused on his face. He looked at you with fierce earnestness, thumbs sweeping across the apples of your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, part of you grieved that the baby would never know Silco without his scars. Or yours. Outside and in.

Silco called your name again.

“Look at me,” he repeated. Your eyes slid back to his. Blue and red pinned you in place. “You can do this. I’ve not met anyone more tenacious, nor strong, nor as spirited as you. Those are but a few of the reasons I fell in love with you so long ago.” His eyes softened now; his adoration made plain. “You’ve absolutely no reason to doubt yourself.”

A small hiccup bubbled from your mouth, and you pressed your face into the warmth of his palm, breathing him in deeply. Not having properly dressed for the day, he hadn’t put any cologne on. The natural terra-sweet scent of his skin filled your nose. You were grateful for his support, respect, and belief in your abilities. A sudden, silly thought flitted across your mind.

“Not my dance moves?”

A single amused breath huffed from his throat. That infinitesimal smirk – one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with him – appeared on his lips. His blue eye flashed; as it often did when an idea struck him. Silco lifted to his feet, and used a strong grip to pull you to yours. He guided your arms to loop around his shoulders and neck, while his went to your low back. A weary chuckle left you as you understood. Your cheek was a relieved, heavy weight against his shoulder. It had to be a strange sight, this dance configuration: with your body slouched against his, massive belly hanging between you two. Slowly, your feet began gently shifting side-to-side.

“Admittedly,” he murmured against your crown, “your dance moves leave something to be desired right now.”

You laughed, even as another contraction swelled within you. Silco’s hands firmed up on your body, holding you upright as it moved through your body.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you hissed as most of the pain subsided. It was such now that there was no longer any real relief.

“A dance and a suck job? Lucky me.”

Your fingers pinched Silco’s upper back, and you felt the tremor of silent laughter in his shoulders.

“Tub’s ready!” Jinx sang as she flounced out of the bathroom.

Managing to smile at her, despite another great, contracting swell that threatened to bring you to your knees, you took her hand. Silco kept a strong arm wrapped around your middle, and you followed Jinx into the humid warmth of the bathroom.

The water helped. Its heat soothed your pained muscles and aching bones. The irony was not lost on you that you found peace in it. After a few minutes of settling into the tub, you gave Silco a look that to anyone else may have seemed like nothing. But he caught the message in your eyes, and tucked himself close to the tub’s edge, taking your hand. Jinx huddled herself into his lap, nervously fingering the buttons on his shirt.

About an hour later, the midwife’s large ears flicked in your direction as the quality of your breath shifted, as the sounds leaving you turned deeper and more animal. Her deft hands slipped into the water and between your legs.

“Something changed,” you gasped, hunching slightly. “It feels like – “

“It’s time,” she said, pulling her hands from the water. Somehow, she’d also stripped your underwear off in the same movement without you noticing. “It’s time to push.”

Push. The word settled into your body with a deep, innate knowing.

Yes. That’s what you were feeling. The near uncontrollable need to bare down. An old, predetermined instinct washed over you. You could do this.

But you did not want to do it alone.

“Sil.”

The grit of his name and the way you shifted yourself forward spurred your partner into understanding. Swiftly, he stood, deposited Jinx onto the stool he’d vacated, and then stepped into the tub, sliding in behind you. Settling against his chest, your hand ferociously intertwined with his. His heart beat firmly against your back.

“You can do this,” he whispered into your ear.

“Give me your other hand, dear,” the midwife said. You did so and she guided it under the water, preparing you to feel and catch. “Push.”

“Push! Push!” Jinx cried, her little fists pumping and bopping in the air madly.

Gritting your teeth, you did just that. A sound you didn’t know you were capable of making burst from your lungs. When the air ran out, you slumped against Silco’s chest.

“Breath in,” the midwife demanded. You did so. “Push!”

You did again, a roar ripping from your chest. A roar that ended in a surprised yip as something into your hand.

“Again,” the midwife demanded.

And you complied, baring down with everything you had. With all the might and tenacity and power your body could exert. Another battle cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, and a solid weight slid into your hand. You ripped your other hand from Silco’s grip, and pulled a wriggling newborn from the water.

“It’s a boy!” Jinx yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Her brother’s face squidged, and his pink mouth opened in an announcing wail. You joined in and pulled the babe to your chest. Silco went very still behind you, scarcely breathing. Then his hands appeared over yours, cradling the baby at your chest. Like on the night you’d taken in Jinx, he pulled his legs up around you both and held tight.

Later, once the placenta had passed (something Jinx was equally horrified and enthralled by) you were helped out of the tub, and cleaned. The midwife tied off the babe’s umbilical cord, and once some time passed, you watched with an incredibly full heart as Silco severed it.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen the expression on your partner’s face. A soft, careful, wonderous thing. Then it hit you all at once. You were watching Silco fall in love. The notion took your breath away and fresh tears welled in your eyes. Jinx clung to you, and you to her.

“Thank you for being with me, Jinx. It helped.”

The girl beamed up at you, holding on tighter.

“I think it is your turn for a shower, sir,” the midwife said, twisting off the umbilical nub.

Silco watched her hands like a hawk as she did. He slid in once she finished, and wrapped him in a blanket Jinx had decorated. It was a small thing, but you caught the tremor in his hands. Keeping Jinx tucked against your side, you came to stand next to him.

“He’ll be here when you get out of the shower,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Yeah! Go get the baby juice off you!” Jinx ordered.

Silco’s expression of awe turned to one of bemusement as he glanced at your daughter.

“Yes. I suppose I should.”

Your own hands shook a bit as you gathered your son – your son! You wondered if the shock would wear off – and ushered Jinx to follow the midwife out of the bathroom.

With no small amount of effort, your body, beyond sore and exhausted, climbed into bed. The baby cooed and nuzzled and fussed against your chest as you settled into the pillows and duvet. Jinx climbed in on the opposite side, and snuggled close.

“He’s already sleeping!”

“It’s hard work being born. Don’t you remember?” you chuckled.

Jinx laughed, “No!”

A small smile curled the midwife’s mouth as she snapped her bag shut. She turned to you and bowed her head.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you said, eyes on your boy. Then you lifted them to hers, and said again, “And thank you.”

She nodded again, horns catching the light in the room.

“It was my honor.”

She gave you and the baby one last cursory check over, and took her leave.

A few moments after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Sevika stuck her head in.

“Ogre!” Jinx cried. “I gotta brother!”

Even Sevika’s presence couldn’t dampen Jinx’s mood.

Silco’s lieutenant grunted, and stepped over to the bed. She stayed at a distance though, craning her neck to peer down at you and the baby.

“Yep. That’s a baby. Congrats.”

“Thank you, Sevika.”

Behind her, Silco emerged from the foggy bathroom in a fresh pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Sevika tilted her strong chin in his direction and he nodded back.

“I’ll leave you all to it then,” she said.

Her poncho twirled as she spun back to leave. As she and Silco crossed paths, a metal finger tip whipped out from beneath the red fabric, and poked his bare belly. He jolted and shuddered. He sneered at her, but she just snickered and slipped out of the room.

Silco shook his head, damp hair beginning to curl at the ends. He rounded the bed, and climbed in, sandwiching Jinx between your bodies. He leaned over the girl’s head and kissed you.

“What’re we gonna name him?” Jinx pipped.

You and Silco exchanged a look.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” he added.

Immediately, Jinx began rattling off all her suggestions.

Before a name could be decided, you fell asleep. Jinx followed shortly after; her plump cheek pressed against your shoulder. Gingerly, Silco lifted the baby from your arms, and brought him to his bare chest. The boy tensed, and then melted, a small wispy sigh leaving him.

Silco melted, too; a foreign, near indescribable softness filling him up. He brought his hand to the boy’s back, its length and width nearly covering all of him. His son was so small.

His son. His son.

Emotions gripped him so intensely he nearly choked.

Elation, love, fear.

Grief.

There was grief that his child was born technically as a citizen of Piltover. But that anguish was small compared to the other one that had been tucked away in the scar tissue of Silco’s heart ever since you had told him of the pregnancy. A pain that he hated he harbored.

The secret grief was that Vander wasn’t here to see this. The grief that his Brother had ruined any chance of participating in this milestone. The grief of Vander’s death (justified though it was) was scratched open as Silco’s son lay on his heart. The grief that, had things gone differently, Silco would’ve named the boy after his Brother.

“Sil.”

Silco’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice. Your beautiful, exhausted, beautiful face shone up at him. There was a smile on your lips that he wished to taste, so he leaned over Jinx’s head again and pressed his mouth to yours.

“I told you you could do it,” he whispered leaning back. You smiled and nodded wearily.

The baby grunted and shifted against Silco’s chest, and he pet the back of his head so, so softly. It broke your heart into a million pieces, and then they jumped right back together. Your eyes slid back up to your partner’s profile.

You felt his grief, because it was yours, too.

“I know, Silco,” you whispered. He looked over to you. Jinx snored softly between. “I wish it had been different, too.”

Silco’s eyebrow dropped, and his lips softened. He glanced down at the baby on his chest, and chuckled ruefully.

“I truly don’t know what to name him.”

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

He nodded. You sat in silence for a while, listening to your children breath. Jinx’s raspy breaths and the baby’s snuffling. It was music to your ears. You would never tire of hearing it.

Just as you were about to doze again, you felt Silco’s energy shift. Eyes sharpening onto him, you watched as he first gently ran his fingers over Jinx’s freckled cheek. Then, so carefully, he lifted the baby from his chest so he could look at his small face.

“You and your sister will have better than we did,” he promised. “Me and your mother will give you a nation.”

Your son’s eyes fluttered open and closed, the bud of his mouth stretching into what looked like a small smile. Your throat tightened horribly, and you tucked your nose into Jinx’s crown.

When you were sure you could speak without choking, you lifted your head and said, “We promise.”

I hope part two scratched the itch <3 If you enjoy my work and would like to support me (firstly, THANK YOU!) check out my Ko-Fi page!

ko-fi.com/kiki13

#silco #silco fanfic #silco x reader #dad!silco #soft!silco #jinx #big sister jinx #silco x afab!reader #cw: pregnancy #cw: labor #drive by appearance of sevika #sevika

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theultimatedilflover · 6 months ago

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Mr. Donaldson.

Tw:

use of ‘y/n.’, plot with smut, p in v, begging, riding mdni.

Summary:

He’s a dilf. He’s divorced. He wants you. He’s miserable. He pathetic. Even though he’s a grown man, Some big shot athlete, he still wants a sweet little thing like you to baby him. God he’s so hot. (I’m now reading this and realizing this low key is a sequel prequel to my jealousy story.)

Art is a divorced man. Well.. at least he was. But he doesn’t even consider himself one anymore. Why? He doesn’t think about her now that he has you.

He met you at one of his matches. You were a pretty big fan so of course, whenever he was doing an event afterwards where he is signing autographs, you ask for one. Holding out an old looking poster of his. He grabs the sharpie and slowly looks up at you. Subtly doing a double take. “How are you doing this evening?” He asks while giving you a purse lips smile. You smile back. “I’m doing fine thank you.” You say. You grab the poster and thank him before walking away. Of course he put his number down for you. How could he not? You looked so sweet. He wanted to at least try. Especially after having such a rude wife. Sorry tashi. He thinks to himself like she could still hear him. And after days go past of you not texting or calling due to being nervous or just overthinking. ‘What if he put it down my accident?’ And ‘what if he’s to busy’ and ‘he’s already forgotten about me. It would be embarrassing to say who I am and for him not to remember me.’ You think. But your body moves faster than your brain, picking up the phone and dialing the number. “Hello?” He asks on the other side of the phone. “Hi.” You say. Embarrassed. Blushing. Shocked that he picked up. “Who is this?” He asks with a grin. But he has an idea of who it is.

You guys meet up for coffee. Well… not really. He is too famous to be out and about with another girl. Not for him to brag or anything but there are some real tennis nerds out there who happen to be psychos. So he invites you over to his house. Asking you if you want coffee when you get inside and sit down. You look up at him and gently mutter. “Tea?” You ask. Causing him to smile warmly. He nods. He jerks his head towards the kitchen, silently saying. “Come with me.” You get up off the couch and follow him. You guys get a simple introduction down. But then he starts to ask questions like he’s actually interested in you. “What’s your favorite color?” “Do you like gold or silver more?” “What’s your favorite movie?” “Your into tennis?” (That one he asks like he’s shocked.) “how come you don’t have a boyfriend.. or girlfriend?” He asks while sipping his coffee. And you enjoy answering the questions. After a while you see the sun begin to set. ‘Noo.. I couldn’t have been here for that long it’s only been..’ you look down at your watch. ‘5 hours?’ You think to yourself. You guys wrap things up. He walked you outside and waved goodbye as you drove off.

This happens more and more. It begins to be once a week. Than a few times a week. Than everyday. But this day seems different. The tension is other worldly right now and it doesn’t help how both of your guys days were boring so now there’s nothing to talk about. You stare at him. He’s flushed. How could a grown man be embarrassed right now? He’s avoiding eye contact with you. You stand up and straddle him. Sinking down onto his lap as he swallows. He’s shocked at how non innocent you are. “This is ok?” You whisper in his ear and he immediately nods. “I can’t hear you..” you smile. “Y—yes..” he breaths out shakily as you shift on his lap. “Please just ride me..” he whimpers out while looking down at your guys denim pants brushing against eachother. “Please..” he whines while looking up at you. Your shocked. You’ve never seen him like this. And you enjoy it. He can see that you’re shocked. He doesn’t care. He wants to be vulnerable with you. He wants to spoil you and in return be fucked until the sun rises. Of course he thinks you would look adorable underneath him but he can’t think of that right now since he’s imagining your cute palm wrapped around his length. He watches as you begin to grind on him. Nodding while licking his lips. “I-I’m wet..” you mutter after a while. His eyes widen. He nods while tapping your ass. “Take these off?” He asks. You nod while getting up and shifting out of your pants. He watches you. Doing the same. Your jeans pool at your ankle and you trip trying to get them fully off. Into his lap of course. You straddles him. And he can feel the wet patch of your underwear. “You’re wet..” he reminds you. Like you don’t already know. You nod. “What are you gonna do about it?” He asks. Slowly looking up at you with pleading eyes. You kiss him. Sloppily. He whines in your mouth. You begin to nip at his neck. Leaving little love bites. You reach your hand into his boxers and palm it. He lets out a shaky exhale. “Mm..hm..” he mewls when you begin to trace your palm over his length. “Sit on it..” he begs out airily. So you do just that. Getting him out of his boxers and sinking down into his length. Struggling. And you swear to the lord you feel him get harder when he watches you struggle. He grabs your hips and helps you down to his base. You whine. Exhaling when you do so. You go back up just to sink back down. He whimpers. But what you do is way more fun. You go back up. This time only sinking down half way. Then back up. Then the tip. Then back up. Then halfway. Then back up. Just to the point where you’re simply only taking the tip. He whines. “Please..” he moans. “God I need this so much y/n. I need you.” He grumbles into the crook of your neck. Tracing his hands up and down. “Please?” He says while pulling away from your neck and looking up at you. You nod while sinking back down. He moans.

You leave the house the next morning absolutely shocked. Your hair messy. Your clothes messy. You’re half way back to your house when you realized you left your panties. You groan. You get into the house and detox with a shower. Still stunned at the time you had last night. And you enjoyed it? Usually that would be a turn off for you. Begging? Yuck. But something about how cute he looks underneath you begging to be fucked just has you going. And there were times in the night where you were tired and he wasn’t. So he took control. Kissing your neck and whispering how beautiful you are. God you wish you didn’t have to fall for such a mess. I mean. He was put together. Well he looked put together. But that’s the thing about him being vulnerable last night. He showed you his side that’s a mess. He must have trauma from his ex wife. His daughter taken away from him, only seeing her once a month. But why you? What would a miserable tennis player want to do with you? Art yawns after his shower. Stretching. Itching his tummy like a cat. His lips doing that thing when he has a normal face on. You know that thing. Where they’re straight but his smile lines appear since his mouth is so wide. He walks into the bedroom and sees a cute little pair of Victoria secret thongs. He does a double take and flushed. Walking over to them whilst holding his towel around his waist. He bends down and picks them up. Examining them. He smiles. His cheeks red. A lustful look in his eyes. That’s when he keeps them. Putting them in his nightstand. Tucked in there with his glasses and a book he enjoys reading. And he struts out of his bedroom pridefully, knowing he has a treat waiting for him later tonight. You get out of the shower and dress. He hasn’t called you. And you’re ok with that. Going on with your day. It hits 4:00 and he still hasn’t called you. You forget it. You lay in bed. And he calls you. Apologizing for not calling you sooner. He was busy. Got caught up with tennis shit. He sounds really sorry over the phone even though it doesn’t bother you that much. “I’m sorry baby I’ll make it up to you.” And that’s when that little pet name hits you. God. You guys are dating. Well technically it’s not official. But you guys are seeing each other.

Months go past where you guys see eachother. Not always getting it on. Sometimes just sleeping skin to skin. Whispering to each other. Kissing eachother. But that’s when he says “I love you..” he whispers. And you could swear that you see tears well up. “I love you too..” you say back.

Another month passes when he brings up you move in. And you agree. He enjoys that you’ve moved in. Seeing you everywhere around the house when you’re gone. Obviously not there but he now sees items that you own in his house that remind him of you. There’s pros and cons of when you’re not home. Obviously he misses you and practically waits at the door like a goddamn dog when you’re gone. Then again, he also loves reaching into your panty drawer and grabbing his favorite ones. Burying his face in them while he strokes himself. He should feel like a creep for doing such horror but he’s so inlove with you. Obsessed with you. He could bathe in your sweat and he wouldn’t care. In fact he would probably prefer it over regular water. And when you do come home he’s there waiting. Already hard. You can see the outline through his sweatpants. So you sit down on the couch with him and slither down to your knees in front of him. Sucking him. He’s whining. Mewling as you lick the slit. Squeezing his balls. Teasing him. “Please.. please.. make me come honey I missed you so much.”

This life was amazing. And you loved him. You loved buying lingerie for yourself and watching his eyes widen. His cheeks flush. You loved teasing him. Edging him. Making him wait. He loved it as well. You loved making him shutter with pleasure.

But one day you come home and he isn’t waiting for you. Not sitting on the couch patiently. Not in the room trying to make himself look busy. Not using the bathroom. Not in the kitchen, cooking something. gone. So you think “maybe he went on a quick grocery run.” But after 2-3 hours he doesn’t come back. You call him. “I’m running late baby I’ll be right home.” He says when he answered almost immediately. And after 20 minutes you bet he’s barreling through that door with sweat all over him. Muscles sore. And a bouquet of tulips for you. You get up off the couch and hug him. Wearing his t shirt. “For you.” He then hands the flowers to you. You smile at his softness. Putting them in a vase. “You’re sweet.” You say. “I’m sorry. Intrusive thoughts won. I went on a run.” He says. You nod. “It’s ok.” You say walking back over to him. Leaning up and kissing him. “No no no, let me shower.” He says reluctantly pulling off of you. “No no no, I like your sweat. Please don’t shower..” you say. He smiles lifting you and taking you to the bedroom.

You rode him til the break of dawn. Fucking him over and over again. He’s shuttering with overstimulation. “Good boy.” You cooed. But after hours you got tired and he would get a boost of energy. Pumping into you. “I want you to have my babies. God you would look so sexy with a Donaldson baby.” He whimpers. And you guys tumble after hours of going at it. Sleeping next to each other.

#art donaldson #challengers #tennis #smut #cute #mdni #mike faist #hot dad alert

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crescenthistory · 2 months ago

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Ask: hi, could you write something about barty with the prompt c5. ("there will not be a day where i am not there for you") like he receives a letter from his dad and u can tell something is off ab him and comfort him ? thank youu

Words: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: gn!reader, implied mental health struggles on barty's front, barty isolating himself, hurt/comfort, romanian!barty, general fluff and unconditional love

Note: this request is super old, i'm terribly sorry lmao, but better late than never? barty deserves all the love<33

You had not seen Barty in 5 hours.

Considering that the boy usually seemed to be attached to you by some invisible 5 metres rope, you were growing increasingly concerned. Your poor cheeks were being gnawed off at record speed, and you knew he would chide you for “maiming his lover” later, but you had other priorities at the moment.

Between your last two lessons, he had slipped off down some hallway and never returned. You paid it little mind to begin with, Barty often ran off on spontaneous, perhaps reckless adventures. It was in the whole school’s best interest to just let him, saving all your questions for when he comes back, demanding stories of his grand escapades – because he always came back to your side quickly.

When he didn’t show up for dinner, your worry thus began to settle despite your trying to fight it. Sometimes he did skip dinner for an array of different reasons, but he always notified you. Throughout the meal your thoughts wandered off, all yearning for him, but you knew how much he would scold you if he found out you skipped dinner for him.

You would hold it against him, if he was not the first person to admit he was being a hypocrite.

You clung onto hope that you would find him in his common room or his dorm afterwards. When you opened the door to his dorm only to be met with their shared snake, Nova, as the only living being in the room, you finally allowed yourself to give in and accept defeat.

Barty was missing and you were worried.

Behind you, the tell-tale sounds of Regulus’ dance-like steps alerted you to his incoming presence. “Reg,” you said, poking your head out to catch his attention. “Barty hasn’t told you where he’s off to?”

Regulus gave you a bit of an odd look as he passed you in the doorway. “Does he ever?”

You gave him a look that hopefully said yeah, that’s fair before you straightened up once more. “Will you tell me if you see him?”

“If I see him, he’ll be here.” Regulus was clearly not in one of his more chatty moods. This time you gave him a look you knew said play nice. He sighed. “I’ll let you know, yeah. I’ll ask Evan too, when he gets here.”

You gave him a rueful smile. “Thank you Reggie, this is why you’re my favourite.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as he laid down on his bed to read. You had enough wits about you to close the door before you left, not wanting a stinging curse to be thrown after you down the hallway and doubly not wanting Barty to get revenge on Regulus for doing so. He always found out somehow.

This was not Barty’s first time disappearing, nor did you suspect it would be his last. You usually had a list of reasons why he might run off and places to look for him if he did.

Had he been in a particularly jittery or theatrical mood, you would have been worse off, as he quite literally could be anywhere where he might cause the most damage and drama. Usually you would begin in Gryffindor or the Care for Magical Creatures classroom, but thankfully you did not have to resort to those measures.

Because Barty had been in a very distinctive restrained mood that only you and a select few of his friends ever seemed to be able to decipher. When you first met him, you thought that mood meant he was annoyed somehow – now you knew that when Barty was truly irritated, he grinned like a maniac.

This almost stoicness meant only one thing; Barty was feeling vulnerable. Maybe even defeated.

Which quickly limited his hiding spots to places where he could grasp at some privacy without feeling trapped. Considering that the last time he tried to hide away in the prefect’s bathroom, he got caught by none other than James Potter, the poor sod, you narrowed your best bet down to the Astronomy Tower.

Led by a gut instinct and a mouthful of compassion, you scurried up the hundreds of steps needed, hoping to find him and not accidentally stumble in on some awkward attempt at a date between some fourth years.

When you tried to turn the handle to the Astronomy Tower’s door only to find it to be magically locked, you knew you were right in your judgement.

“Barty? Are you in there, love, it’s me?” you called through the door, aiming at making your voice as steady as possible. He hated being treated like he was fragile, at least before he was curled up in your arms.

The faint buzzing sound in your ears alerted you to the fact that he had thrown a muffliato over the room, meaning you wouldn’t hear him if he replied. He could still hear you, though, so you tried your luck further.

“It’s alright, B. I’m here.” You hoped to Merlin he could hear the love and reassurance dripping from your words.

The whirring sound was interrupted by a faint click as the lock was opened. Taking extra precautions, you looked behind you to ensure you would be alone and slipped in through the door, locking it behind you once more without looking.

Fresh air filled your lungs the second you stepped into the tower – one of the reasons why it was such a great place to escape to when feeling anxious or down or both. Your heart was similarly filled when you saw Barty sitting in a large windowsill with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring out with an empty gaze.

“Hi there, lovely,” you said rather cheerily, making your relaxed state penetrate the atmosphere of doom that followed Barty on these days.

You walked over and went to lift yourself up into the windowsill, only for Barty to break free of his trance for a moment to take your hand and elbow and help you navigate carefully until you were seated across from him, legs entangling with his own. He let out a breath. “Hi, Dragă.”

You smiled carefully at him, settling into your place and letting the cold from the window seep in through your clothes without a bother. You leaned forward so your body was bent in half to rest your chin on his propped up knees, giving you a perfectly clear vision of his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want you to have to talk about it.”

Barty always did that when something was wrong – denying you of any responsibility or option to help, assuming it was below you to do so. After a few years attached at the hip, he had learned he could not make you “realise you should leave his arse”, but he would still aim to shield you from himself on these days.

Other days, he would do anything to make you not realise, desperate to claw you to himself. A boy that contained multitudes, each one equally lovable in your opinion, to which he called you horribly insane.

“At least we’ve got that in common, babe.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you reassured quietly, chin moving against his kneecaps. “I really do want to, though. Be there for you, I mean.”

His gaze met yours, softening at the authenticity and affection surely plastered all over your face. He brought a previously dead hand up from beside him to stroke his knuckles over your left cheek, moving them backwards into your hair. “You always are, aren’t you?”

You let your smile widen at him embracing your care. “There will not be a day where I am not here for you, B. Whether you want me to or not.”

His eyes flickered with a vulnerability only you ever saw. The next thing he said was so meek that you almost didn’t catch it, but flowers bloomed in your stomach when you did. “I want you to.”

You reached your own hand up to catch his in your hair and brought the inside of his wrist towards your mouth to press slow, gentle kisses to it. “I’m glad, lovely. Now spill.”

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year ago

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My Best Girl

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Best Friend's Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,200.

SUMMARY: Your best friend from University, had been begging all year long for you to join her back in her home town to spend the holidays with her family. Being the loyal friend you are, you thought it would be the decent thing to do...

WARNINGS: age-gap implies (consensual & legal, reader is 18+, Jahaera aged up), innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, Daddy kink, p in v sexual intercourse, edging, cream pie, breeding kink (if you squint), slight dub-con, thigh riding implied, jealous!aegon, possessive!aegon, swearing.

A/N - thanks to the wonderful, talented, beautiful @valeskafics who planted this AU in my head... I have plunged deep into a dilf!Aegon rot. ily bby xx

You had no intention of ever sparking a relationship over the holiday period, let alone with an older man... That just so happened to be your best friend's father.

Jaheara Targaryen, you had fondly grown acquainted with over your undergraduate semesters in University: so enraptured by each other, she practically was begging for you to join her over the holiday period: saving you from spending a lonesome, seldom time alone on campus.

The moment you laid eyes on her beloved father, Aegon Targaryen, you felt your heart beat halt, breath hitched in your throat, and a rather odd yearning ignited between the sweet spot between your thighs.

He was a rather handsome man, you could no deny: his unique features had softened with adipose, yet his age had shown, along with whatever hardships he had faced. Scarring across his brow, beneath his eye socket, and yet he exuded a formidable presence, it somewhat intimidated you.

You struggled to even maintain eye contact, doe eyes constantly fluttering from the larger man before you, to your scuttling feet, before Jahaera dragged you away into the privacy of her own room.

You subtly attempted to pry, asking singular questions about her father, in which Jahaera would mindlessly respond with a swift response.

A divorcee, his relationship with Jahaera's biological mother had been tense from the beginning, incompatible. She did disclose he had many flings, occupied with one night stands and frequented by regular women of the neighbourhood, yet did not dare to settle, for whatever reason.

That is until, you had mindlessly wandered off venturing the opulent double-storey, before abruptly being surprised by Aegon's presence in the kitchen during the later hours of the night.

"And what might a pretty girl like you be doing wandering in the dark, hmm?"

Your mind rushing with fleeting, blank thoughts, moments later you found yourself being effortlessly lifted onto the counter top, rutting your aching, soaked cunt against his sturdy, meaty thigh, before he would taunt and tease your silky folds with his tip. Burying his dense girth inside of you, stretching your walls like no man has ever.

Since that surreal night, awake the next few days as if you lived through a vivid, fever dream: your relationship blossomed with your best friend's father, in discrete.

Aegon relished in how flustered and bothered you get, even with the faintest motions, such as close proximity, his overpowering musky scent intoxicating you with each inhale: making you weak in the knees, and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

Regardless, of the age difference you both shared similar interests in films, attitudes and romance.

Aegon devoured your innocence: despite having been in previous relationships, your innocence in trusting him to take the lead, to protect you and be intimate with you, reinforced his belief in you.

He took you seriously from the beginning: having the decency to not treat you like some mindless, young fling.

Your vulnerability towards him, drove him mad: as he felt a responsibility towards you.

In return, you favored his wisdom, with life and in the bed. He taught you how to really please a man.

He would often praise you: admiring your beauty, your intelligence and demeanor. Although, in the end he was somewhat of a youth, relishing in teasing you, making logic cease as he fucked you senseless.

"My good, little whore so greedy for a Daddy, she took her best friend's, huh? Daddy's gonna have to punish you for that little stunt. Thinking you can come in here looking fucking ravenous."

Regardless of Aegon's intent to care, his sex and affections were rough. Manhandling you, spanking you till your cheeks remained red and raw with tenderness for days [certain his handprint was strewn across your flesh], gripping and pulling your hair with such force. He needed to instil some fear, a mutual understanding as he preferred to call it, that you could not go anywhere now without his knowledge.

When you both weren’t being intimate, he enjoyed our company, having you mount and straddle his thigh and lap. Watching him attend to work, answering phone calls, getting so riled up when he was arguing with his correspondents. You had come to realise, Aegon had a rather quick and fierce temper.

Many times, Jaehaera pleaded and fought with her father to take you out to the local city clubs both in the company of her hometown friend [males present] and without, and time after time, he stubbornly denied the two of you from leaving the premises.

Overtime, he refused the idea of you having male companions and friends.

“I know what boys are like at that age baby, they don’t want to be just friends… You’re mine now, and I don’t like to share.”

Jahaera frustrated and uncertain of his motive would excuse herself, and recluse in her room, leaving you pampered and dolled up for Aegon's own undoing.

He enjoyed watching you from afar pampering yourself: "dolling yourself up for Daddy, baby? Always lookin' so beautiful, I need to keep you running around her for my own viewing."

The moment the word slipped your vile tongue, was the moment something snapped in Aegon, that made him cement his feelings for you... Daddy.

He favored the moment, demanding you obey his every command, moaning heavy breaths for you to repeat yourself in a constant loop, directly into his ear.

He wanted you to acknowledge him as almost your savior. Considering him almost god-like which, you faintly had.

Another niche about your elder boyfriend: he purely enjoyed in fucking you raw, no protection, as he craved to feel you.

"Baby this ain't my first rodeo, I'll pull out okay. I'll get you the pill if I have to--"

"Good cause I still have two years to go, and I don't think J-Jahaera would appreciate this-"

"But your already such a slut for me, taking me so fucking well and perfect, she brought you on a platter for me, knowing damn well I couldn't resist... Surely?!"

Regardless, Aegon's attempts at hiding the affair would occasionally plunder: sending you "anonymous" gifts through the mail, of wealthy jewels, the finest material of laundrette and perfumes.

Countless times Jahaera poorly attempted to pry the truth from your sealed lips: she knew that you were seeing someone, just not who...

When it came to returning to campus: you would often exchange raunchy pictures: Aegon was poorly tech-savy in comparison to you: so a dick pic and video at most, was all he could provide.

You however, thrived off online. Sending him nude pics of yourself [this was a first], only to be showered with compliments, before Aegon would request to video call you: jerking himself feverishly as he ached to feel your tight walls swallowing his dick.

You nearly got caught by Jahaera, lurking his social media and the texts, before coming up with a reasonable excuse.

You would be the first to say "I love you" hesitant and all, Aegon however, had no shame to admit it. The words fell naturally off of his plump lips.

And so, Aegon's intent with you surpassed the theatrics of his previous licentious behaviours. He is obsessed with you!

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii imagines #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x fem!reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd fanfic #hotd fanction.#aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii angst #best!friend!dad!Aegon ii x fem!reader #jahaera targaryen

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dstryvampres · 8 months ago

Text

Lab Assistant

MINORS/AGELESS BLOG DNI !

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Warnings: smut LOL, dub con, pnv, unprotected sex, use of fear toxin on some dude, he smacks your ass like once

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: this is my first time writing just pure smut, sorry if the set up is super long.

For the past week your heater had been broken, and despite multiple calls to your landlord which always ended up with the promise that he would come over to fix it eventually, you were still freezing. Though you could escape the biting cold throughout the day by taking up a second home at your university, you always had to eventually come back to your shitty studio apartment and suffer through the night. You’re excess time spent on campus was well spent, studying in the library, napping under stairwells or in-between shelves in the library, stirring around coffee you didn’t even like but knew you have to drink to stay in the cafe, or staring longingly at your psychology professor Dr. Crane. The lack of any privacy throughout your day had started to get annoying after the first three days, not helped by the fact that because you saw Dr Crane more than you usually do, leading to you feeling more high strung. Gotham was not treating you kindly.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out quite loudly above you, forcing you out of your final exam induced coma. You gritted your teeth, knowing that you were likely overstaying your visit to the campus library, especially since you had just finished your last exam of the season, who knows how many hours ago.

Looking up you were met with the face of your favourite professor, Dr Crane. Another horrible coincidence, it was embarrassing for someone so put together and professional to find you so vulnerable, especially someone who you had in mind when your hand was shoved down your pants most nights.

“The library is closing soon, I would recommend getting your stuff and heading out,” Dr Crane says, his voice oddly empathetic. A jarring contrast to the usual mix of hostility and boredom his voice held during lectures. He sighs and takes off his glasses, pinching his eyebrows together, seeming conflicted over what he wants to say next, so instead you fill the space with your own voice.

“Of course, I’m so sorry sir. I seemed to lose track of time, and was too exhausted to walk home. Again, I am so sorry. I should have set a timer or just maybe not sleep in the library, that was so-“

“You have been spending a weird amount of time on campus for the past week,” Dr Crane interjects, giving you a once over. “Is everything okay at home?”

The question was so genuine it made your brain short circuit. Why would he even care about you?

“Not really,” you laughed, the two words coming out of your mouth before you had time to think. A habit only recently picked up due to sleepless nights.

A smile crept over your professor's face, one that didn’t seem to reach the rest of his face. You couldn’t tell if it was from the shock of your honesty or something more sinister. He sat down in front of you, scratching his nose, letting a silence stretch out. Just long enough for pricks of discomfort to stir.

“Well, I’m running a program here at the university over the winter break. Just need an assistant to help me over at Arkham for an experiment I’m conducting. The job would include housing closer to Arkham, since it’s a little out of the city, and it pays about a dollar over the minimum wage. If you’re interested,” he slides a business card over the table, smile now dropped, “just email me in the next 48 hours.”

Taking the card eagerly between your fingers, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ under your breath before pocketing it. When you look up he’s already halfway gone. Packing up your things as fast as you can, you leave the library and hop on the train back to your shitty apartment. An email is sent to Dr Crane that night, and the following day you are confirmed as his assistant for this experiment the next day.

𝜗𝜚

The space provided for your three week stay was slightly better than your studio apartment, mostly because it had heating, but also because you shared a wall with Dr Crane. Besides the housing, the internship also came with an average pay, some work experience, and enough credits to compensate for one class. Your first week there had mostly been mundane tasks, taking notes outside of interrogation rooms while Dr Crane interviewed patients, making coffee for the two of you, making patient profiles, and making sure no one took any of Dr Crane’s “special medicine” for the experiment. Despite the easy work and the decent benefits, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more sinister that Dr Crane wasn’t telling you about the experiment. With a thesis based around the concept of fears, you had yet to notice any great dive into the topic beside a few one-off questions.

“Before we start this week,” Dr Crane starts, sitting down in the chair opposite to you, “I want to just warn you that this is when the experiment starts to become a little more intense.”

He holds a coffee mug in his hand, as he talks the liquid sloshes around the cup. It's all information you already know, you signed an NDA, he trusts you, do what he says, and that he needs you to stay out of the room no matter what. Last week you learned just how Dr Crane enjoys his coffee, no milk and one sugar, you can’t understand how he can drink it. One sugar can’t mask the bitter taste. He drinks it quickly though, remembering the taste makes you gag.

“Before we begin today, can you prepare the variable today in syringes? I will be introducing it into the experimental group today.”

He sets down the now empty mug, a loud thump echoes through the room, startling you. Dr Crane smiles at your reaction, it’s the same one he always gives you, the one that doesn’t reach the rest of his face. You ignore the stone that has formed inside your stomach, picking up your clipboard and pen.

“I’ll meet you in room 283B,” your professor puts a hand on the small of your back, leading you both out of his office. A shock is sent through your body at the contact, once out of the room you turn to look at him, but his hand is gone and he’s headed in the opposite direction as you.

Something else that you have noticed throughout this week is just how close Dr Crane is now. He’s more touchy than you would pinpoint him as. Which isn’t saying much, but the small lingering touches he lays on you, a hand on your shoulder, maybe on the small of your back, doesn’t seem to be too professional. One… two… three millilitres of solution per syringe. The questions he asks also seem to be a little weird, especially due to the matter of the study. A common thread being his prying into your fears, and a look of hunger when he asks the questions. Soft thud of the storage container hitting the ‘chemical waste’ bin. Though you can’t really complain, this past week has given you enough content for your late nights to satisfy you for your whole university career, Masters program included. Laying out each of the syringes in a row on the tray, and counting them out. Three syringes on the top tray, six needles on the lower tray. Rolling the tray out of the room and over to the elevator to head up to the second floor.

You softly knock on the door, waiting for Dr Crane to open up the door to the observer section. The door opens in a matter of seconds, only a crack for a couple more seconds, before it is completely opened.

“Thank you,” Dr Crane says, looking down at the tray of syringes. He takes one in his gloved hand, holds it up to the light and nods, a stamp of approval given to your handiwork. “Remember: that if anything goes wrong, do not enter the room, just call security, and take as detailed notes as possible on the patient’s behaviour and the levels on the monitor.”

You nod, taking a look at the monitor set up beside the one-way glass, all vitals seem to be steady at the moment. The door to the room holding the patient opens up and shuts quickly, Dr Crane slipping in and greeting the patient, thanking him for his time. The patient seems to be a middle aged man, scars run across his arms, roughed up from whatever he did before his time in Arkham, he’s bald and seems to be displeased with his situation. Still, when Dr Crane comes to insert the syringe into his arm he stays still and takes it. The opaque liquid disappears as Dr Crane pushes down on the syringe, removing it once all the liquid has entered into the man’s system. A ‘thank you’ is expressed by Dr Crane before he exits the room, syringe in hand. Once the door is locked, Crane disposes of the syringe in the toxic waste bin in the observer’s room.

“The solution will take about five minutes to kick in,” he says, looking at you and it’s now that you realise just how excited he seems to be.

The heart rate on the monitor starts to speed up, taking your attention away from Crane, and noting it down.

“Are you sure you estimated the time correctly?” You ask hesitantly, not wanting to offend your professor.

“I did. No worries. Injections can do this to people.”

The next five minutes pass by slowly, Dr Crane behind your chair, his breath tickling your ear. It’s almost impossible to focus like this, you just want to do something about the growing wet spot in your pants. Screaming immediately breaks through the tension you were feeling, you look at the patient. His eyes are wide, his pupils expanded, and his heart rate reaches around 140 bpm. Alarm sets into your own heart, you didn’t expect this big of a reaction from the patient. Dr Crane nudges your shoulder, reminding you to start writing your observations.

11:06: patient’s heart rate reaches 140 bpm

11:07: patient starts uncontrollably screaming at seemingly nothing

Your continued scribbling of notes doesn’t seem to discourage Dr Crane from talking.

“I didn’t know it would be this effective. I’ve been waiting years for this to be approved and this is better than I could’ve ever expected.”

Nausea settled from the mix of pleading for mercy and screaming from the patient, and Dr Crane’s glee from his reactions. Unsure how you could continue on with doing this almost every single day for the two weeks. Writing soon became sloppy due to your own lightheadedness and nausea, every moment you begged someone to make this stop. It was too much. It stretched on for over fifteen minutes before the patient finally came back from whatever drug induced hallucination he was forced into, yet he was still crying. Wanting to distance yourself so far from this experiment, you place the clipboard down.

“Wonderful isn’t it?” Dr Crane asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder. Whatever response you thought you could muster was stuck in your throat, so instead you nodded. “I call it my ‘fear toxin.’”

Once his hand left your shoulder, you immediately stood up, head spinning so much that you stumbled right into Dr Crane.

“Are you okay? Did the ‘fear toxin’ effects startle you?” He asks, putting his hands on your shoulder to stabilise you, his voice bridges between mocking and actually concerned.

“I just need to go to the bathroom,” You squeeze out, stumbling into the hallway and waving goodbye.

Stumbling around, unable to find the bathroom, you slide down the wall of an empty hallway. Sitting on the floor and curling up into the fetal position. Nausea slipping out of you slowly, eyes closed, just wanting to forget about the whole experience. What substance could even make a man react so horribly? Why would anyone make that in the first place? What purpose could a substance like that even serve? How will this even help-

“There you are,” a voice comes from above you, Dr Crane. You open one eye up, becoming flustered at your unprofessionalism, and enraged at the sight of your cruel professor.

He kneels to your height, offering you his soulless smile. “I’m sorry if that startled you, but I thought you would be better than them. I thought you could fully see my vision, look past the gruesome bits and understand what I’m trying to do here.”

His words both enrage you even further and make you feel even more embarrassed. He created a horrible substance, tested out on a man that, from what you know, didn’t deserve it, and essentially tortured him. On the other hand, this is a man who you have dreamed about and only want to please. For the past three years, you have sat in his class and dreamed about only him. For him to think that only you could understand his plans and dreams, is a flattery you could only dream of.

“Maybe I just didn’t prepare you well enough for this. Can I make it up to you?” Dr Crane asks, offering his hand to you. It takes a couple seconds, but you take it and he leads you upwards.

His hand is oddly cold, his grip on your own hand is firm, but not harsh. His skin is smooth. It’s embarrassing that he has to lead you out of this room, has to coax you to continue.

“Let’s go to my office, hm?” Quirking an eyebrow, but not waiting for a response he led you down the hallway.

Everything seemed to blur together for you, the trip to the elevator, down the elevator, and into his office. He clicks the door shut, locking it, then turns to you. Stepping forward until he’s cornered you onto his desk.

“You think I don’t hear you at night. Calling my name. The walls in that place are very thin,” Dr Crane whispers into your ear, his hand slithering up your thigh.

A gasp escapes your lips, both at the hand now dangerously close to the warmth growing in your pants, and also because you didn’t think he would be able to hear your late night pleasure sessions. Soon he’s cupping your sex and you moan into his ear softly, earning a hum from him. Finger wander up from your sex to cup your chin, he brings you into a kiss. It’s bruising and hungry, he’s biting at your lower lip and you swear you can taste your own blood. His fingers make quick work unbuttoning your pants, sliding them down your legs until they drop to pool around your ankle.

“You're so wet already, how interesting,” He teases, tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Moaning in response you chase after his lips, but he pulls away.

Your underwear is pushed over to the side, and his middle and ring finger breach your entrance. A loud ‘oh’ comes from your mouth, crane presses his lips to yours again to silence you. His fingers move slowly in and out of you, he catches each moan you let out with his mouth. His lips are soft, but the kiss is rough, his fingers speed up. They stretch you out so nicely it stings a little bit. It’s been so long since someone else has pleasured you, at all.

His fingers pulled out of your sex slowly, deliberately. A painstaking motion that left you close to pleasureless as he pulled out of your kiss. Quickly flipping you around and pressing you into his desk, the shock between his warm body behind you and the cold desk pressed against your front sent you spiralling. There was shuffling behind you, before you felt him lineup his cock with your cunt.

“Beg for it.”

Your mouth opens and you spew out a string of ‘please’s and ‘need it’ that seem to satisfy him enough for him to push inside of you. He’s girthier than you expected, but not as long as you expected, which is fine for you. The stretch makes you ache and he won’t be bruising your cervix. Without giving you a moment to adjust he starts to move in and out of you.

“You have to be quiet, okay?” He says, before picking up his speed.

He sets up a consistent speed, hitting a spot inside of you that makes you grip the edge of the desk so intensely that your knuckles are turning white. The desk creaks as he moves in and out of your cunt, his breathing speeds up, one hand twists into your hair pulling your head back and you can’t tell if it’s to ground himself or as a reminder for you not to be too loud. Another hand comes to smack your ass, it's a swift hit, but it makes your knees buckle.

“You're so much better than I thought you would be,” Dr Crane strains out between grunts.

He presses his front to your back, the hand in your hair softening its grip but not leaving. His breath tickles the back of your ear, the grunting coming from him makes you bite your lip to suppress your moans so hard there will be an indent left there tomorrow.

“Dr Crane, can I cum? Please, I’ve been so good, please let me cum,” you babble, the side of your face pressed into his desk making your words slur a little bit.

“Cum for me,” he says, moving the hand not tangled in your hair to your clit. Pressing small circles into your clit, he starts to speed up.

Soon the pressure in your stomach releases and it goes black for a couple seconds. You feel Dr Crane’s hand press into your mouth to silence you as your legs buckle. Once you’re conscious again, he has already pulled out of you and you can hear him zip up his pants. You stand on your shaking legs and follow suit, trying to press your hair down into a more professional shape.

“I would recommend you get cleaned up,” Dr Crane says, giving you a smile, “Was that enough motivation to continue aiding me in my experiment?” “Uh- Yes,” you answer, not fully aware of what you were even saying, too embarrassed and lightheaded to even compute anything he was saying besides ‘getting cleaned up.’

“Perfect. After you get cleaned up, please meet me in room 256B. We can meet again here tomorrow during our lunch break if you continue to need the motivation provided,” He pats you on the shoulder, and leaves you in the room alone.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #dc scarecrow #jonathan crane fanfic #Jonathan crane x you #Jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow #the scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #cillian murphy #cillian fic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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lie-lacdreams · 2 months ago

Text

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt.2)

Hi friends -- I'm putting out the second installment to this quickly to gain some more momentum! Thank you for all of the support so far - I wasn't sure how well this was going to do but I hope you've been enjoying it. If you have any questions about the story so far, pls ask! I love interacting :)

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engineer! reader x Curly TW: vulgar language, mention of thermo transfer theories (EWWWW), and catching feelings (ew pt.2), oh, and the existential dread of unsatisfaction that ambition can bring to your life, leaving you hungry and wanting more Word count ~ 2.0k

“Daisuke, come back here! I’m going to kill you right now!!” A flash of pink passed Curly before halting to a quick stop to hide right behind him.

“Captain, please save me! Aaaah!” Daisuke screamed as he caught sight of (Y/N), who just came around the bend of the hallway hunting him down.

“What’s going on here?” Curly asked, observing (Y/N’s) disheveled appearance. Her jumpsuit was zipped halfway up to her torso and her hair still looked disheveled from sleep.

She slowed down to a stop, now embarrassed that she had been caught in such a state by the captain before replying, “This… one over here had the genius idea to turn off my alarm and I slept in three extra hours. Could you please hand him over so I could maim him?” She peered to the side of Curly to narrow her eyes at Daisuke, who let out a shriek and made himself smaller behind the man in front of him.

“Oh? I had asked him to do that, actually,” he mused.

“Pardon me?” she straightened.

“You looked so exhausted yesterday, you deserve a few extra hours of rest after giving yourself no breaks. He was just following Captain’s orders.”

“Oh… I see. Uhm, thank you. I guess you’re off the hook then, Dai. Has Swansea got you working on anything right now or do you want to come shadow me? I have to take a look at the pressure in the steam pipes.” she asked the intern.

“Yes! Let’s go. I wanna hear about what you were up to all of yesterday. Swansea and I like, didn’t see you at all. Will you let me help out today?” He came out from behind Curly and started walking ahead of (Y/N), eager to please and for something to do.

“Heh, sure. See you around, Captain.” she said a bit sheepishly, trailing behind Daisuke. After a good night’s rest and the initial panic of waking up late, the interaction with Curly finally sunk in for (Y/N). She typically kept her emotions so detached from the crew and her work and it almost horrified her how easily it was for her to open up to him last night in a moment of vulnerability. As much as it made her uncomfortable to realize that she had run her mouth and ranted to him, she woke up with a feeling of relief. Sure, her job was still going to be hard, but knowing that her captain believed in her and was willing to help in any way he could gave her a sense of peace.

She stopped by some pipes in the corner of the hallway and turned to Daisuke. “Okay, let’s get to work.”

After a few hours of working and (Y/N) explaining Nusselt theory with Daisuke half listening, she finally called for a break.

“Nerd,” he teased as he stuck his tongue out at her. “How did you even come to like any of this stuff anyway?” They leaned on the wall, sitting on the floor together.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I never really knew what I wanted to do in my undergrad. I just picked chemical engineering because it was kinda interesting but hard and so rewarding when I understood it. Getting my PhD in it after working for a few years just seemed like a natural next step.” She turned to Daisuke. “I know you’re in college now, and everyone is probably asking you the same thing and you’re sick of hearing it but what do you want to do?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he started. “I think everyone around me has these expectations that I’ll do something great, and I’m so scared of disappointing them. They say the sky’s the limit and that’s what scares me. I could do anything with my life, so how do I know that whatever I choose won’t be the wrong path?”

“I don’t believe in such a thing as a wrong path,” she responded. “Whatever you choose, you make the best of it and try your hardest. Everything happens for a reason.”

Under his breath, Daisuke laughed. “Man, maybe Anya should hand over the wellbeing check-ins to you. You’re like, so philosophical.”

“Oh God, no. I could never be held responsible for people like that. I’d go mad.” She stood up, dusting off her pants and held a hand to him. “I think we’re pretty much done for the day, believe it or not. Wanna go play some Uno?”

Spending the rest of the day relaxing after the past few days of struggling was refreshing and just what she needed. That night she finally joined the rest of the crew for supper, laughing with Anya about something too far away for Curly to hear. Their little family was complete tonight and it was moments like these that Curly savored. He wished that every moment on the Tulpar could be like this.

A few days later, Curly was exiting the cockpit and was startled to nearly trip over (Y/N). “I’m so sorry, Captain. I had no idea you were in there.” She looked up from her mess of manuals, a notebook, and trusty abacus, a pencil tucked behind her ear.

“It’s alright. Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, just looking at our fuel today and trying to make the Tulpar cooperate with me.” She furrowed her brows.

“Need a hand with anything?” He offered, crouching down to look at the paper in her hands.

“O-Oh, only if you aren’t busy, then yes, I would love some help, actually. But I don’t want to be a burden.”

He shook his head. “Nonsense. The ship’s on autopilot right now and Jimmy will take over for me in fifteen minutes anyway so I’m all yours.”

“Okay,” she flushed. “Thank you, come with me please.” She led him a few paces away. “See this? If you could read me some of the values over here that would be great. This here is the manometer, it measures pressure and over here is the oxidizer. There are a few things I need you to read aloud to me.”

After getting all the information she needed, she bid Curly goodbye and looked around for a place for her to do her calculations. Settling for the couch in the lounge, she got to work when Daisuke plopped down right next to her.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he started.

“ ‘Sup?” She asked, distracted.

“Fuck, marry, kill: anyone on this ship.” His lips spread into a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck Curly, marry Anya, kill Jim– wait a minute, what??” She looked up from her notebook.

Daisuke’s eyes lit up before his face twisted into an expression of evil delight. “Ohohohoo yooo (Y/N) you wanna fuck the captain?”

“No!! Stop that!! You asked me that while I was distracted and not really paying attention. That’s not true.” She swatted at him.

“Sure, but that doesn’t change your answer now, does it? Damn, you answered that shit with no hesitation too!” He shrugged his eyebrows. “Since when did you have the hots for the captain?”

“Sure, I find him really attractive, okay? I admit it. It’s not that big of a deal. Okay then, what about you?” She crossed her arms, face flushed and flustered.

Daisuke’s face contorted to one of disgust. “Eww nah I can’t do this! Swansea and Jimmy are just-” he made dry heaving sounds. “You and Anya are like my older sisters, so that’s absolutely not happening. And Curly – okay I agree with you on that one but like, he’s so much older.” he shrugged.

She let out a ‘harrumph’ before going back to her work. “Doesn’t Swansea have something for you to do, huh?”

Daisuke shook his head. “I’m just waiting ‘til dinner.” He kept her company on the couch as she worked, playing on his gameboy and trying his best to stay quiet so she could concentrate. Supper was a quiet affair today, with not everyone showing up to eat at the same time. People came and went, in and out of the lounge, eventually going to bed. (Y/N) was still up, now in loose pajama pants and a sweatshirt, criss-crossed on the couch and reading a book in the light of the night time screen. Anya had already gone to bed and so she sat in the lounge so as to not disturb her sleep.

“Hey,” said the captain. “Mind if I join you there?” She smiled up at him before patting a spot next to her on the sofa, inviting him to sit with her. She noticed that he was still in uniform as he sat down, draping an arm over the couch and facing her.

“You weren’t there at dinner today, did you have a chance to eat?” She asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Anya brought Jimmy and me dinner. We’re heading straight for a belt of asteroids so we had to do a bit of charting and manual steering to make sure we don’t crash. We should be fine and taken care of now,” he massaged his temples with a hand.

“You look pretty tired, Captain. If you were busy today, you know you didn’t need to help me out, right? Take care of your obligations first.” She looked up at him and the blue glow of the large screen somehow seemed to soften the look in his blue eyes. Dammit, Daisuke, she thought. Admitting the captain was handsome out loud only made her more aware of it. Even with bags under his eyes and the rugged state of his beard, she couldn’t help but blush under his gaze, so she turned to look at the fake moon on the screen.

“No, I enjoyed helping out today. Ever since you opened up to me, I want to make sure that you have the support that you need. It’s my responsibility, after all.” He followed her gaze to look at the display screen as well.

“Don’t you ever get burnt out juggling all of this? It’s a lot to pile onto just one person, and the company makes it even worse by making things accessible only through you. And in the end, you’re the one who’s responsible for our performance on this trip.” She turned back to him now, concerned.

“Sometimes, I guess. I started here on a pretty low rung of the ladder, but I always dreamed of doing something greater. The higher and higher I climbed, the more complicated things got, more liabilities were piled on, but I couldn’t help but keep climbing. There’s still something missing from my life, and even if I get to the top, I’m not quite sure if I’ll ever be satisfied.”

(Y/N) paused for a moment to think. “Would you ever leave this line of work to pursue something completely new, even if it meant having to start over from the beginning?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, I’ve done it once before, so it isn’t that intimidating to have to do it again.”

She nodded. “That’s very admirable. In a sense, it seems like you know what direction you know you want to go in, even if what you want isn’t clear. I respect you a lot for that, Captain.”

Curly shook his head. “Please, I think we all in one way or another are trying our best out here. We all have responsibilities we have to take care of by being on this ship.” He glanced at her again. “And honestly, you know you can call me Curly, right? Jimmy does it, my friends back on Earth called me that too. At this point we’ve gotten pretty vulnerable with each other over the past few days.”

“Okay, C-urly. Maybe not on duty, but right now it doesn’t sound too bad.” (Y/N) was praying that the glow from the screen concealed her hot and flushed face. After these past few days of getting to know the captain a bit better, it was so easy for feelings to snowball. Brushing the fluttery feeling she had aside, she stood up. “I think I’m going to head to bed now. I hope you’ll do the same, Curly. Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

After he heard the door shut quietly, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, giving the display screen one last look before getting up and going to bed himself.

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Thanks for reading! Give me a few days and I'll be back. Cheers!

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader #anya mouthwashing #Thermo & Turmo

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gardenoflupins · 10 months ago

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Assassin AU / @wolfstarmicrofic / 874 words

CW: sexual conversation

“You look bored, how about I take you to bed instead?” Sirius whispers in Remus’s ear.

Remus jolts, spinning to look at Sirius with wide eyes. Sirius suppresses a smirk.

Sirius had been hired to kill Lyall Lupin’s son, Remus Lupin, and he was going to be paid a hefty amount for it.

He knew that Lyall worked at the ministry. This wasn’t the first time he’d been hired to kill one of its members. His client harboured strong animosity towards Lyall and wanted to kill his son out of spite. That made Sirius’s job easier. Killing an important government official was always a hassle. He’s sure mini Lupin would have become just like his father anyway.

Sirius completed his assassinations in various ways depending on the context. Sometimes he’d go to their homes and kill them directly. Other times he’d poison them. His favourite technique, however, was to seduce them. It left them vulnerable and unassuming.

Sirius had been watching Remus the past hour to get an impression of him. So far, the man seemed reserved and awkward. Sirius decided on his seduction technique because Remus kept glancing at him and Sirius knew what those looks meant.

Remus’s entire face goes red at his words and he stutters unintelligibly. Eventually he laughs nervously and Sirius takes that as cue to lean towards him.

Remus shoots his hands up to stop Sirius from moving, hands on Sirius’s chest.

Perhaps Sirius had read him wrong. He looks into the other’s eyes to get a better feel of the situation. Remus’s eyes were still wide but he looked innocently confused.

“Unless you prefer the old fashioned way where I take you out first,” Sirius says, undeterred.

“I— oh god,” Remus replies, “I’m so bad at this, please don’t put me on the spot.”

This pulls a surprised laugh out of Sirius. “No need to be nervous, I can lead and take control,” he says with heavy implication.

Remus wets his lips, eyes darting around before they fall to his feet. He drops his hands to his sides.

He says nothing.

Doubt creeps into Sirius. Had he read the situation wrong? Was Sirius not what Remus wanted? It left him feeling unnerved and slightly agitated.

“Not interested, then?” Sirius asks calmly.

Remus continues avoiding his eyes, face flushed. “I am so terribly embarrassed,” he responds softly.

Understanding dawns on him and Sirius has to bite down on his lip. “One of the shy ones?”

Remus’s eyes flicker up at him then back down. “Unfortunately.”

Sirius leans against the bar, remaining close to the other. “It’s alright, I’m good at coaxing eye contact when I’m sleeping with someone. I’ll reward you with lots of praise, I promise.”

Remus chokes and snaps his head up to Sirius, his eyes going impossibly wide. “You—“ He takes a deep, shaky breath. “You can’t just— say things like that.”

Sirius pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his smile. He was leaning into his role as the seducer but it came easily to him. Remus was someone he would have slept with outside of work. Sirius’s eyes linger on his lips and he watches Remus swallow nervously at Sirius’s attention.

Remus’s breaths were coming out short, mouth slightly open and skin flushed.

Sirius moves to gently pull him in by the waist. “Don’t you want to taste me?”

His eyes flutter shut and he groans in response.

To Sirius, it was the sound of victory.

“I— Please,” he breathes out.

“Good boy,” Sirius murmurs, fingers rubbing delicate circles on his waist. “That’s it.”

Remus opens his eyes and Sirius is thrown off-kilter at the tender gaze. “I can’t. I want it— badly, but my father won’t allow it.”

Sirius blinks. His curiosity ignited. “Why not?”

Remus glances away bitterly. “He doesn’t want anyone to see me.”

This answers nothing and leaves Sirius with more questions. Seeing this, Remus offers him a kind smile. “Thank you for the offer, you’re quite gorgeous.”

Sirius feels a bit tingly. He won’t lie and say he wasn’t intrigued (in more ways than one) but he had a job to do. He didn’t need to seduce Remus to be able to kill him.

Someone pulls Remus rather harshly out of his grip. Sirius looks at Lyall Lupin’s sour expression.

“I’ve finished discussing with the others. Let’s go.” His hand is firm on Remus’s shoulder.

Skilled in picking up pieces of information, Sirius’s eyes cut to where a small group of men are leaving the bar. His gaze comes back to Lyall who is scowling at him while sending concerned looks to his son. Remus isn’t looking at either of them.

Sirius takes in Remus’s scars and he feels like he is seeing him for the first time. The scars closely resembled the ones his current client had.

The puzzle started forming in Sirius’s mind. It was just out of reach.

Lyall protectively pulls Remus away and Remus sends Sirius a mournful look.

Yes, it looked like Lyall was harbouring a secret regarding his son and Sirius would be damned if he didn’t figure it out. He had a feeling it had everything to do with the man that hated Lyall.

Fenrir Greyback.

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look-a-yandere-fandom-blog · 2 months ago

Note

Ahhh, would love a part 2 for reader/The Obsessed in the near future! There’s not enough yandere Shadow of War fics on this app or on any other platform! ❤️

Lingering Denial | Oneshot Continued

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The Obsessed / Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: Middle Earth: Shadow of War

_________________________________

Romantic Yandere.

PT 1 |

_________________________________

Content Warning: Delusional/obsessive/possessive behaviour, violence, threats, blood, paranoia, mentions of stalking.

(If there’s anything else I need to add to these warnings, please let me know.)

Thanks for the request, anon! Totally agree on the lack of yandere SOW stuffs (though I have seen some great headcanons here on tumblr). That was what drove me to write the original oneshot, alongside a hefty dose of favouritism for the obsessed-

Speaking of the obsessed, I had a bit of fun with him in this one, specifically with putting him in a less-stabby-than-usual situation, something he doesn't get in the game as every time you run into an obsessed he's trying to kill you, or you to him...

Also because I couldn't deal with him being stabby all the time, as our reader is much more mortal than Talion, haha.

The idea of how he would act once he got what he wanted was an interesting one, so I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I did writing! :D

_________________________________

Finally, he has fallen asleep.

Head nestled into your shoulder, arms enveloping you like a cage. His expression calm, but his hold tight and selfish.

You refused to fall under before him. Even though your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, drained by stress, you dared not make yourself more vulnerable than you already were.

Ratak had been staring for hours. Wide eyes locked to your form. Memorising every detail, every dot, every scar. Mesmerised. A spell broken only by the orc's occasional mutterings.

Murmurs of glee, pent-up questions he had no opportunity to ask before, and comments about how different your human features were to his.

The latter left a bitter taste in your mouth. Those comments accompanied by a wandering gaze. Imagining what lay where his hungry eyes could not see, hidden beneath layers of clothing. Dreaming of the day he would be allowed to explore it.

But tonight, he is happy. Tonight, he is content with this. Side by side. Just you and him.

You can hardly believe your own predicament, as you consider what has led you here.

Back to the ground, sword to his chest, his forehead against yours.

It feels as though an age has passed since then.

The two of you trapped in a stand-off. Your motives so different, and his was unfathomable.

You could not understand how this orc had fallen for you, as he claimed, so suddenly. There was no logic behind it, no strategy, no benefit he could possibly gain by making you believe this.

Which led you to the truth: that he meant it. That he had built up this bonfire of obsession, allowed it to flicker and flame since you had first met. Until it was all-consuming, and impossible to stamp out.

But, even with that, you did not trust the hand around your neck. The glint in his eyes. The maddened longing that afflicted his every movement, his every lovingly vicious word.

And quickly you realised: despite his infatuation, he could kill you.

If pushed too far. If fought against. If he believed slicing your neck with his own claws was a better fate than letting you go, he would do it.

You knew he would.

So, you lowered your sword. The point removed from Ratak's chest.

Was it fear that caused your surrender? Or curiosity? You could not decipher it, breath caught in your throat, mind focused entirely on the blade in your hand.

You exhaled only when it was flat on the ground, sheathed by moss and grass.

"Hah... I knew you'd understand." Ratak spoke, disjointed teeth morphing into a pleased smile.

His hand left your neck, trailing down to the hilt of your sword.

"You'll be mine, and I'll be yours..."

You winced, cursing the world itself as he pried your hand from it, forcing you to let go of the blade. Betraying your instincts, you let the hilt fall from your fingertips.

The faint clink of its landing was nearly inaudible. To you, it was deafening.

Then, you were jostled.

Before you could come to terms with your decision, Ratak got to his feet, lifting you up into his arms with frightening ease. Held to the bloodstain adorning his chest, shallow and slowly drying.

"Right, my love?" He posited.

You did not answer. Luckily, he did not seem to care.

With a press of his cracked lips to your temple, he began to walk.

Emboldened by your surrender, the orc was more than eager to leave your sword, the symbol of your human allegiances, forgotten. Left behind with his helmet. Embraced by naught but dirt and worms.

You have no clue how long he walked for. The trees and grass and branches and rocks seeming to repeat endlessly. But Ratak's steps were sure. He knew where he was going.

And eventually, he wound up here. Where you now lay.

The room is one of dark, chipped, stone; it is hidden within the walls of a deserted fortress. Perhaps ransacked and half torn down, or perhaps half-built and abandoned. Regardless, a place that Ratak has made his own.

Laying in a makeshift bed of fur pelts and loosely-stitched fabric, the rest of the room aligns with the salvaged comforts. Furniture made of cobbled-together wood, bones, and leather are scattered about. The scene an echo of a home, but without the wear of being lived-in.

As your eyes trail over the same items for the hundredth time, you wonder if they were made specifically for your capture. The thought of him preparing this all, while you had been blissfully unaware of his stalking, sticks like a parasite.

How much had he seen while watching you? Was he always planning to bring you back here, willingly or not? Had he hoped, when alone here, that you would feel the same towards him?

You look to Ratak. A being made for violence, for battle, for bloodshed. To be a pawn of Lords and leaders greater than himself.

Yet he speaks of love so freely. His affection, albeit clumsy and abrasive, is affection nonetheless. Able to be dealt only by the violent hands he was moulded with. There is authentic emotion at its core, filtered through the brutal, bloody lens of obsession.

He is an enigma. A contradiction you cannot rationalise.

Of course, you consider the chance of simply asking him. Questioning what his infatuation spawned from or how he had made up this room seemed rather safe topics. Likely ones he would take pride in answering.

But, in spite of your wonderings, you do not wish to ask. Aversion overpowering intrigue. Nervous that, should you entertain him, Ratak would take it as an opportunity. An excuse. His lovesickness persuading him that your questions were signs of something deeper.

As you examine him, you notice that his arms have slackened. Sleep traitorously loosening his hold.

With a cautious shuffle, you attempt to drag yourself from his grip. Gradually, carefully. Cold air pricks your skin as the fur and fabric covers are shed. Ratak remains still.

You look to the door. It is bolted, rather excessively; metal rods and latches are attached to the wood, clear despite the poor light. There is risk in approaching it, but there is just as much in lingering here.

With another shuffle, you reach the edge of the bed. Your legs dangling off, unable to reach the floor from this height.

Then, about to descend, there is a sound from behind you. A groan, accompanied by the shifting of fabric.

You freeze like a startled animal.

Ratak is awake.

"Love?" He coos, eyes blinking open. Centring where you had been beside him. Now an empty spot.

Panic mars Ratak's expression as he shoots up. With frantic, half-focused, eyes he glances to and fro. Locking onto your figure as he spots you.

You are not where you should be, with your feet ever-so close to the floor. Too close.

He lunges, a snare set on its target, the action innate and impulsive. Arms snake around you, before yanking you to him.

A sigh echoes from above, the orc relieved, his human returned to his clutches. Where you should be.

All you feel, however, is on edge. This close, you are reminded of his size, his strength, how he looms over you like the sturdiest of mountains. Certain, powerful, and terribly stubborn.

"What were you doin' there, hm?" Ratak muses drowsily.

"I..." Your voice trails, caught unprepared. You try to keep your eyes on him, but you cannot help yourself.

A look is spared to the locked door. Only for a second. He follows it.

Ratak's brows furrow, creases forming in his skin as he reaches a conclusion. Unfortunately for you, it is the correct one.

"You want to leave..."

The adoring notes in his voice vanish. Swiftly replaced by snarls.

"You're trying to leave me, aren'tcha, love? You're tryin' to run away from me again."

Anxiety constricts in your stomach. Lying through your teeth, your voice is detached and firm.

"I am not trying to lea-"

"Don't you lie!" Ratak shrieks, shutting you up as he shakes with rage.

"Of course you're tryin' to leave! Can't bear being in my arms, is that it?"

Ratak's accusations continue. Nonsensical ramblings, as tangled and unintelligible as his proclamations of love.

"You're gonna run away from me... run back to bloody Gondor... let some filthy tark have you 'nstead of me!"

You wrack your mind, aware of just how dangerous he is right now. The last time he acted like this, you had your sword. But now, you cannot rely on its sharpened safety.

"I'll kill the bastard… lop his hands off for darin’ to touch you… make sure you can never leave me again...”

His hands twist and teem with threat. Yellow irises fogged over as he turns desperate.

Your time is running out. All he would need to do is fetch his axe from it's spot on the wall and...

An idea squirms into your mind. A horribly demeaning idea. It makes you feel sick. But nothing else would work. You have no weapon to threaten him with. Anger would not reach him, and neither would indifference.

"Never again… never ever again…”

In the end, there is nothing to lose.

You rest a reluctant hand on his forearm. Fingertips brushing along collections of aged scars. His accusations pause, puzzled.

Choking down the last shreds of your pride, you put on a softer voice. The voice of a lover.

"Please, Ratak..." The orc's name tastes like thorns on your tongue. "I did not intend to scare you... I am sorry."

"I am not leaving you, and I will not. I swear it."

Ratak's expression flickers, picking you apart.

He knows you are lying. Deep in the burrows of his mind, he knows. But as his chest flutters with the sensation of your palm against his flesh, he can hardly bring himself to care.

Your words are measured and gentle. Without animosity. Without distance. Speaking his name so tenderly. Reciprocating his affections. The hand that once held a blade to him is now comforting him.

Even if it is only an act, it is an act he wishes to drown himself in.

The orc's claws remain around you, burying into your skin like ticks, but his voice dims.

"No. You won't. You're meant for me..."

He sinks, no longer towering over you. Instead, he starts to slouch, head drooping as the night's exhaustion catches up with him.

"You wouldn't be happy with anyone else... Let alone some lousy tark..."

With a half-hearted chuckle, he lays down. You are dragged alongside him, caged once again.

"You love me. Not them." Ratak utters. Yet there is an uncertainty hidden within. An inflection you had not heard from him before.

"You love me..."

He whispers, and still, his uncertainty is not quite stifled. Searching for reassurance in the lines and dips of your face.

"Don't you, sweetness?"

With how closely he is watching, you cannot get away with silence. Your dignity burns before you as fatigue tugs at your resistance, begging you to give in.

Averting your gaze, ultimately, you answer.

"Yes. I... I love you."

He chuckles, genuinely this time. Euphoric to hear those words from you. Even if not a syllable is true.

As you yield to the sanctuary of sleep, you assure yourself. Someday you would escape here.

Someday.

But it would not be tonight.

Tonight, you and him lay together. Entangled in false vows and each other's arms. Sleeping dreamlessly.

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#added thank you to the two who reblogged with comments/tags on part 1!#so glad that others have enjoyed these little drabbles #shadow of war #the obsessed #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere uruk #yandere orc #middle earth: shadow of war

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mysaintkitten · 1 year ago

Text

prompt: a fight with your stepbrother gets unexpectedly heated (18+ MINORS DNI !!)

WARNINGS: stepbrother neil (he is the littlest bit pervy), implied age gap (everyone’s legal), spying, masturbation (m)

this is so short and dumb lmao

you sit on the couch, legs crossed while in some shorts and a baggy tee. it’s a late saturday night and you weren’t planning to impress anyone so you dressed comfortably.

“neil, pass me the remote.” you ask, sticking your hand out in neil’s direction as your eyes stay fixated on the screen. you wait for maybe twenty seconds and the remote still isn’t in your hand. you twist your head over to neil and raise your brows. “give me the fucking remote!” you repeat while shaking your hand.

“jeez ..” neil chuckles, “relax.”

he finally passes you the remote and you angrily snatch it from his hand, muttering a small bitter thank you in response.

with the remote, you scrolled through the seemingly infinite movie options. after a few moments, you picked one that peaked your interest. it didn’t take long for neil to verbalize his disagreement with your choices.

“no, no, come on.” neil said with furrowed brows. “this movie sucks. it’s not even good-bad. it’s just straight up bad.”

neil scoots closer and grabs the remote from your hand, searching for a movie that he’ll enjoy.

“i mean, it makes more sense for me to pick. i’m older, after all.”

you scoff and roll your eyes at his absurd reasoning, “well, this is my mothers house. i’m her biological daughter, you’re a stepchild, at most. so what i say ..” you take the remote back from neil, “goes.”

without saying any words, neil attempts to snatch the remote back, but your grasp is too tight on it.

a tug of war kind of fight begins to break out, you and neil fighting like children over the remote. with a laugh, neil takes the remote from your hands, scooting his body backwards to prevent you from grabbing it again.

that really didn’t stop you though, because seconds later you began to crawl on top of him, straddling his lap as he waved the remote around out of your reach. while leaning your body forward, your baggy shirt draping over neil’s face, you retrieve the remote.

you huff as you crawl back to your side of the couch and slump your back against the arm rest, tucking your knees up to your chest with your feet slightly apart as you begin to play the movie you had originally picked. the movie starts and a satisfied grin makes its way across your face, you look over at neil to rub the victory in.

his face has dropped, and his eyes are glued between your legs.

“give up that easy, huh?” you laugh, finding it interesting how quickly neil gave up the fight. normally fights between you two could go on for hours. you’re both insanely stubborn.

neil swallows, “are you wearing any panties?”

your cheeks flush and your brows stitch together. no, you weren’t, but why would he care?

“what kind of question is that? you pervert.” you retaliate

“your shorts ..” he stammers, glancing back between your legs, “they have a hole in them.”

you sneak your hand between your legs and sure enough, there’s a hole, directly where your crotch is. your pussy had been exposed to him for lord knows how long. you quickly cover yourself up as best you can but neil’s eyes don’t move.

“quit staring!” you squeak before scurrying up to your room to get changed. neil watches you leave, not saying a word.

while in your room you slip on some panties and some new shorts, your heart racing at what just unfolded. you can’t believe neil saw such a vulnerable part of you, you felt absolutely humiliated.

as you walk back downstairs, you notice the living room is now vacant, neil has seemingly left. you shrug it off and assume he probably felt really awkward as well and decided to take a bit of time away from you.

you make your way towards the kitchen and on the way there you pass by the bathroom, you hear small huffs and whimpers on the other side. you pause, what’s making that sound.

with light steps, you creep closer to the door, placing your ear against the door as you listen for the noise again. and there it is, more huffs and whimpers, now some moans are being thrown in as well.

this is basically your house after all, so in a way you feel entitled to enter any room you please. quietly, you crack the door open, peeking your head inside only to see neil standing there with his cock out.

as you watch in shock, neil fists his cock urgently as he whines and moans, his head tipped back and his eyes screwed shut. you wince at the sight of his cock, but you can’t take your gaze off of it. it’s pink, pale, and a clear liquid is spilling out from his tip.

“oh fuck .. oh fu-uck ..” neil lets out a shaky exhale as he picks up his pace, “pretty fuckin’ pussy ..”

your face burns harder, did he really think that? moments later, and with a few more whimpers, neil’s shooting his load onto the bathroom floor. he bites his lip in attempt to stifle his moans, but you’ve seen everything, no sense in staying quiet now.

before he fully comes down, you pull the door back shut and leave it open ever so slightly so neil doesn’t hear the sound of the door clicking. quickly, you make your way over to the couch and sit there as if you’ve been lounging there the entire time.

you hear the sink running and you can tell neil’s washing his hands. great, at least he has the slightest bit of decency. you watch him approach the couch and sit parallel to you, where he was originally sitting before.

you sneakily look over at him, his face is a bit flushed and he’s still a little out of breath but he overall looks normal and put together. you cannot believe you just saw your step brother touching himself after he got a glimpse at your pussy.

was he that desperate? all it took was a look to get him all worked up?

“where were you?” you ask, acting oblivious to what you had just seen.

nervously he meets you here gaze, forcing a cough before responding, “oh uh, well i uh just needed to use the bathroom.”

“oh.” you say, “it’s just weird because when i passed by the bathroom i was hearing these really weird noises, what were they?”

neil becomes visibly more awkward as he tries to find a reasonable excuse, “i just wasn’t feeling well.” he chuckles in attempt to alleviate some of the nerves.

“i see.” you hum with a nod, “see, for a second i thought you were jerking off after seeing my pussy.”

neil’s mouth gapes open, he begins to ramble up some more excuses.

“it’s okay,” you hush him, “i won’t tell mom.”

—

im still procrastinating what is WRONG WITH ME !!!!! also this is inspired by a clip i saw on twitter :)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #hope y’all like this #:)

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elizabebabe · 7 months ago

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ೀ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡: you're scouted for love island and you and your manager think of it as a business opportunity but what happens when you actually want to find love?, you're in for the summer of your life.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: use of y/n, kissing.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k!

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬: imagine my shock, it's a chris fic!

you slowly pulled away from the hug, looking him in the eyes. you know he felt it too, you all sit back down at the fire pit ready to ask him the hard hitting questions,

“you nervous bro?” cade questions him.

“little bit.” he giggles, pushing his hand through his hair.

“we all are.” aidan comments attempting to mellow him out.

“what’s your name? age?, didn’t catch it.” leah calmly asks.

“chris, 20 years of age.” his smile is contagious, you can’t help smirking.

“what do you do for work?” clair asks from next to you, nudging at your side.

you playfully roll your eyes at her, “i do social media, with my brothers.”

you all nod along to his words, “what’s your type?” leah questions.

“i don’t have one, i know blahbla everyone says that but it’s true,

i just like someone that can sit back and chill and who can have those normal conversations.” he motions with his hands, everyone intently listens, naturally interested in what he has to say.

“who do you find attractive here though.” cade says in a ‘cut the bullshit’ way.

“they're all pretty.” chris rebuttals.

“he dodged that.” cyrus laughs, making the other guys chuckle.

a ding loudly rips through the laughter, chris checks his back pocket,

“got a text.” he sticks his tongue out, “islanders, in 24 hours chris will couple up, with a girl of his choice, “leaving a boy single and vulnerable.” everyone's jaw slacks, gasps and groans coming from different places around the fire pit.

“#you-tu-ber in for a treat.” he laughs at the hashtag, “you are in for a treat!” he exclaims.

all the guys squirm while looking at each other.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after learning the news everyone slowly dispersed from the fire pit, boys and girls separating for their own chats, the girls going to the swing and the guys heading to the kitchen.

“how are you girls feeling?” abby starts.

you adjust yourself to sit comfortably, “i think he's a good looking boy.” you comment, turning your head towards the kitchen, you notice how outgoing he was, how touchy he is, your mind ran wild, not being able to control itself, you imagine —, you get snapped out of your thoughts by clair, bringing your attention back to the conversation you were having.

“he's not my usual type.” leah comments, kaia agreeing.

“but he's cute.” leah continues, “not again.” abby laughs, making you scoff.

“abby, how do you feel? i know you’re smitten with cade.” clair’s voice rings with concern.

“m’good, i just really like how it’s going with him.”

“we just don’t want you to close off so soon.” kaia comments, you nod your head.

“i know, i know.” she replies, sighing, toying with the fabric of her dress.

you notice chris approaching the swing,

you take a swig out of your glass then nudge at clair, grabbing her attention then the rest of the girls.

“heyy.” he says walking up, you were sitting across from abby, you both being nestled to the ends of the swing, you notice kaia and leah making room in the middle of the swing for him to sit, he plops down next to them with a giggle.

“how are you?” leah asks.

he man spreads, his hands in a ball on his lap, he smiles when the question rings through his ears.

“i’m great, thank you!”, “what about you?” he continues, aiming the question towards all of you, inviting you to converse.

“good.” abby responds.

“better now.” leah replies.

“yeah?” he says sarcastically.

“were you nervous coming down?” you chime in.

“yeah, definitely, this is kind of the first thing i've done without my brothers so it's really nerve racking.”

“you’re close with your family?” you reply.

“yeah, i'm a triplet so we rarely spend this much time away from each other.”

you all lightly gasp, “that’s so cool.” abby adds.

“thank you!” he smiles, putting one of his hands behind his head.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was about that time to head to the beach hut, you felt excited for some reason, feeling like you could get things off your chest in there without any judgment.

you sat down in the chair, adjusting your mic.

“hello..” you say nervously.

“how are you feeling about the new boy?”

you smile, fumbling with your outfit.

“he seems nice, i'm attracted to him so..we’ll see.” you say slowly, carefully thinking about what to say.

“what do you think about leah after your conversation?” the ominous voice behind the camera queries.

“i like her, i'm not gonna be off with her over something so small.”

“you both seem to like chris.” they state, obvious they’re trying to stir something.

you scoff, “mhm..”

“how do you feel about your connection with romeo? he seemed to be a second thought when chris arrived.”

your jaw drops, “he is not!”, you defend yourself.

“i’m still thinking about me and romeo, we're going quite slowly at the minute but i like that, plus leah is still in the equation so i’m just trying to get to know everyone.” silence takes over the room.

….

“alright, all done.”

“thank you.” you smile, getting up from the chair and opening the door, closing it behind you, there were two ‘beach huts’ one upstairs and one downstairs, they had called you to the one upstairs.

you walk around the corner into the makeup room, sitting down at one of the vanities, taking a breather, making sure you still look nice.

you needed this bit of downtime, a break, you readjusted yourself in your outfit, fiddling with a bit of it, you stood up knowing it was time to rejoin the others.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

when you walked back out romeo quickly pulled you away bringing you to the bean bags, you slowly sat down a “humph” leaving your lips from the low fall.

“you okay?” he chuckles.

“yeah.”, you quickly realize how unflattering sitting on it was.

“how you doing?” he asks

“fine, you?”

“good, do you like chris?” he quickly asks, getting straight to the point.

you’re stunned by his question, it naturally takes a while for you to answer, leaving him in silence.

“i don’t know him yet so i don’t know.” you reply in a hushed tone.

“you find him attractive though right?” he hurriedly comments.

“sure.” you say sharply.

you didn’t know why this conversation annoyed you, but it did, you tried to remind yourself he was just asking questions.

“alright.” he starts getting up leaving you with a confused face, that was it? that's all he had to say to you?

he pushes himself off the bean bag, putting his hand out for you, you put your hand in his allowing him to pull you up, leaving you unsteady, physically and mentally.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was time for bed, everyone piled into the bathroom to wash their face, brush their teeth. you decided to change first and wait everyone out, you peeled out of your outfit, placing it in your empty suitcase then changing into a t-shirt, you grabbed some toss around shorts and put those on too.

you opened your designated closet putting your heels on the shelf next to the shoes you unpacked earlier this morning.

the rest of the girls came in bare faced ready to change into their pjs, giving you the signal to head to the bathroom, you grabbed your toothbrush from a little bag nestled onto your vanity.

“this is basically like a big sleepover.” you heard abby comment as you exited the room heading to the bathroom.

you walk into the bathroom noticing chris laying toothpaste onto his brush, you seemed to have the same idea.

“hi.” you say awkwardly, grabbing a used toothpaste tube from off the sink

“heya” he smiles, he shoves the brush into his mouth, brushing ferociously, you can’t help but watch.

you side eye him, a “damn” leaves your mouth making him laugh, his laugh is infectious making you giggle, your interaction bellows through the halls, “who’s having fun without me?” abby questions sarcastically peeking into the bathroom, she notices you too and decides it’s better to not interrupt, walking back into the girls changing room.

you two are too busy chuckling to even notice her, you finish brushing your teeth alongside him, you begin to wash your face as he walks out of the room, presumably heading to the changing room as he was still wearing his jeans and t-shirt.

the guys changing room is across from the girls easily making for chaos but once everyone was done changing and cleaning up you all headed downstairs to the bedroom.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you needed to have some water before bed since it always helped you sleep. you walked to the backyard and into the kitchen, the cool air made you shiver as you filled up your classic love island water bottle, you took a sip of the refreshing water while walking back inside.

you walked into the bedroom noticing couples in their beds and chris on his lonesome, his bed was right next to you and romeo, you headed to the right side since romeo was already comfortably conversing with robert who was lying next to clair.

you sit down taking a sip of your cool water from the fridge, “hey.” chris rolls over to get a good view of you, “hi.” you reply slightly uneasy, it made you uncomfortable knowing romeo was right next to you.

chris giggles at you, noticing your quick zone out, “you do that a lot.” he chuckles.

you scoff with embarrassment, placing your water bottle on the table in between you and chris’s beds, “you're funny.” he says with a smile, “but i'm not doing anything?” you question, only making him laugh harder.

romeo taps at you gaining your attention, “do you wanna cuddle or no?’”

chris stops laughing, taking note of the interaction, you lift your legs onto the bed and face romeo, “i don’t know.” you reply, genuinely unsure.

“alright.” he quickly replies.

everyone slowly goes silent, eye masks going on, ear plugs plunging into ears, mics being laid on the ground or the side table, you slide down, attempting to get comfortable, lifting your mic above your head and placing it next to chris’s.

the lights turn off, romeo turns on his side facing away from you, you hear sheets rustling as people get cozy.

“y/n” you hear a loud whisper from your left making your head turn.

“what?” you say quietly, turning on your side to face the whisperer, chris.

“goodnight.” he smiles, all you can really make out are his teeth and his eyes.

you smile back, “goodnight, chris.”

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

the lights are bright and a “good morning, islanders!” echoes, groans are heard from the other side of the room.

you squint your eyes open, a yawn creeping up on you, you bend down groggily grabbing your mic off the ground and slowly hanging it on your neck, everyone around you does the same.

“whoo!!” abby exclaims, causing leah to groan, “too much for right now.” she comments.

“guys, it's the first full day!” she gets up, jumping on her and cade’s shared bed, causing cade to rock back and forth.

you sit up smiling, grabbing the water off your side table, taking a sip.

“let’s have a good day people.” cade basically shouts, making romeo jump.

chris extends his arm to poke you, you look towards him with a confused look. he rubs his eyes, “they’re perfect for eachother.” he says raspily, you nod your head in agreement.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you were needed in the beach hut for some morning catch up, you slowly walked up the stairs feeling like a zombie, everyone groggily followed behind you ready to freshen up for the day, well..everyone except for abby and cade who were basically bouncing off the walls. you entered the room, sitting down ready for the questions.

“first full day, how are you feeling?”

you stuffily giggle, wiping your eyes, “i’m ready to have more chats today, i’ve only really talked one on one with romeo so yeah..” a long yawn gently rips from your throat.

“you and chris seem to get on well, you were talking to each other before bed.”

you scoff, “he’s interesting for sure.” you pause and smile, “he’s like…adorable but also sexy? if that makes any sense.”

“are you happy with your couple?”

you hesitate, “i was..no i am..?” you think, questioning yourself, “i think little “conversations” i’ve had elsewhere have been smoother than my conversations with romeo..” you felt guilty even hearing that exit your mouth but you can’t help how you feel, right?

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

water hits you harshly, running against your back. you lathered yourself with soap, the guys had already headed outside to have breakfast so you weren’t worried about being walked in on and being made to feel uncomfortable but you still wanted to wash up as quickly as possible.

you hopped out and slipped on a one piece you prepared walking into the makeup room, clair and kaia were the only girls still in there. you sat at your normal spot, cozy next to clair, “how are you?” kaia asks beckoning towards you.

“good, refreshed.”, clair nods agreeing with you.

you started your usual routine, pulling things out of your small bag.

“clair, how you feelin’ about robert?” you question as you focus on the things in front of you,

“uhm.” she quickly replies, attempting to think. “i don’t know, i've had good convos with him but i've also had good chats with aidan.” she continues.

“damn, okay little love triangle.” kaia snickers as she moves her makeup brush down her neck.

“i’m just glad to have options.” clair states,

“how is cyrus?” clair changes the subject.

“he’s good, when he first came in he had a lot of energy but now he's really mellowed out.” kaia answers as she applies mascara on her eyelashes.

“which i love.” she continues.

“that’s gooood.” you drag your word while you attempt to focus on finishing up your makeup,

applying a lippie before standing up and going towards your favorite mirror, adjusting yourself in your swim-suit, you walk over to your closet picking out some sandals to match. “you look really good.” clair comments as she stops what she's doing to pay you mind.

“thank you.” you smile back at her.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you, clair, abby and leah sat in a circle of bean bags, the heat sticking your body to it, “abby, is there anyone else you’d want to talk to?” leah peacefully questions.

she looks around, noticing kaia and cyrus having a convo at the fire pit, “maybe cyrus? he’s the only one other than cade that checked a few boxes so, i don’t know.” she pauses,

“it's hard because i need to be open and remember that we’ve only been here for a day.”

she hesitates, “like i keep telling myself that but nobody in here matches my energy like cade.” she continues talking quietly in fear of anyone else hearing, you all nod your heads.

“i get that.” leah states, “me and cyrus still haven’t talked. should i go pull him?” she carries on.

“right now?” clair asks.

“yeah.” she quickly replies.

“if you want to.” you chime in, looking between abby and clair.

“ok.” leah pushes herself up from the bean bag, walking towards the fire pit.

“pulling him while they’re talking is devious work.” abby chuckles, making you and clair laugh, you look over abby’s shoulder noticing chris coming your way.

“chris is coming over.” you whisper.

abby and clair look around them, noticing him approaching.

“i didn't tell you to look for him.” you giggle.

“sorry girl.” abby and clair snicker.

“you want to chat?” chris questions you, “sure.”

“look away, getting up from this is embarrassing.” you comment as you attempt to push yourself up from the bag. you make abby and clair sneer from your comment, he smirks then follows your command, looking away.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you both walk over to the swing then sit down, he sits in a certain position so he can maintain eye contact, your eyes widen. “holy shit, you have blue eyes?” you exclaim, for some reason only noticing this now.

his jaw drops making himself chuckle “you didn’t notice?”

“i had no fucking idea.” you quickly reply.

“so you don’t pay attention to me…okay.” he comments, making a sarcastic frown.

“no, no.” you swiftly say as you giggle.

“it was dark, they looked brown.” you add, attempting to defend yourself.

“oh really?” he says sarcastically

“okay mr. sarcasm.” you couldn't stop smiling when you were with chris, this is all you wanted.

“you look pretty.” he observed you, sending a chill down your spine.

“thank you..” you said flusteredly, “you too.” you continued.

“i look pretty, yeah?” he questions, leaning back on the swing, throwing his hand behind his head.

you giggle, “very.”

he went on to ask you questions about your life, whether it was about the smallest thing or something huge, there wasn’t one dull moment with him.

but that didn’t make you forget to ask him questions as well,

when he talked about his family his eyes lit up. it was so wonderful to see, you intently listened to his every word, highs and lows about his career, favorite food. you could easily talk for hours but unfortunately it was interrupted by a ding.

“got a text!” cyrus shouts, you slowly get up, giving chris a quick side hug as you both walk over to the fire pit, “islanders, it’s time to reveal your red hot flags in today’s red hot challenge.” you bite your tongue in an attempt to not laugh.

“#willyoubemybuoy, #slipperywhenwet”, cade and abby cheer.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you and the girls enter the dressing room, noticing 5 red bikinis lined on the closets, quickly changing and adjusting yourselves in every mirror.

“this is so exciting!” abby exclaims to you all.

you smile at her.

boys and girls will compete against each other in "red flags", you’all each pick a life buoy which will unveil a saucy secret about one of the islanders on the opposing team. then jump into a slime pool and wrestle an inflatable shark, once you exit the slime you’ll do your best ‘baywatch’ inspired slow-mo walk down the sprinkler runway before making your guess by kissing the islander you think the secret is about.

cade started us off, grabbing a life buoy off the wall and flipping it over. “this girl got caught having sex in her parent’s room.” all of your jaws dropped, you and the girls were lined up vertically along a fence allowing you to give playfully, judgy, looks down the line.

“that’s insane.” leaves one of the boys' mouths but you couldn’t tell who.

cade basically skips over to the pool, jumping in and mounting the inflated shark. the guys cheer him on as well as you and the girls, “get it!” robert shouts.

he jumped out, covered in slime, taking his time getting to the “runway”. he did his best walk while holding the buoy, sprinklers blasting him.

he ran down the line up of you girls, making his way down to abby, performing mouth to mouth, the kiss looked wet and slimy, you cringed as clair laughed next to you.

once they finish their long kiss he walks over to the flags to reveal who’s secret it was, he peels it back revealing leah. you all giggle as she covers her face, “my cat was asleep on my bed, there was no other choice!” she defends herself, everyone gives her questioning looks, “i can think of many other choices.” clair responds.

after cade’s go he lost the boys a point.

it was aidan’s turn next, he slowly picked up a buoy of his choice, reading off the back, “this girl did ballet growing up and still uses it to this day.” he pauses.

“that would be normal but there’s a winky face.” he snickers,

“just look at their feet.” cade says, making everyone laugh.

aidan quickly made his way through the pool and the runway, making it time for him to choose a girl. you could tell he really wanted to earn the boys a point as he took his time thinking about who to pick.

he looks down, taking cade’s advice, you all squirm in an attempt to hide your toes, he smiles, “fuck it.” he mutters, going over to clair and placing the buoy round her neck then leaning in for a wet, sloppy snog.

it seems to take her by surprise, you try not to look but it goes on for a while.

they finally stop and he makes his way to the flags, pulling the sticker back revealing clair’s name, “holy shit!” the boys cheer.

cyrus’s turn! he quickly grabbed the buoy, “this girl once peed in a shoe hiding in an ex’s closet.” he quickly jumped through the slime, doing his funkiest baywatch walk and making his way down the line, he wrapped the buoys string around leah, bringing his lips down to hers.

right…next..to..kaia, you look down the line attempting to get a good view of her reaction, she didn’t look very happy, especially when that didn’t remotely seem like something leah would do, she’s too chill.

“yikess..” abby says quietly, he pulls away from the kiss making his way to the flags, peeling back the sticker to unveil kaia’s name. you silently gasp and you can hear clair having the same reaction.

“i found out he was cheating on me and i had his house key, i spied on him.” she quickly says, she’s definitely told that story before.

it was romeo’s turn, he grabbed a buoy off the wall and cleared his throat, “this girl lived in a strict household and didn’t have lingerie so she cut big holes out of her granny panties.” you scoff, watching people's reactions as you knew this was you, what are the chances he picked your damn story.

all you could think about is how you didn’t want romeo to kiss you especially in front of chris.

while you zoned out he was already covered in slime, awkwardly making his way down the runway, then observing all of you, ‘don’t kiss me.’ was the only thing echoing in your mind.

he walked up to you, putting his hand around the side of your neck, you could hear cheers from the boy's and abby’s loud self.

he leaned in placing his lips on yours, it was messy as you attempted to find a rhythm that worked for you both, he easily led the kiss, the cold buoy from his other hand hits your side like a tambourine making you squeal.

he takes advantage of your open mouth, slipping his tongue past your lips, you can’t stop thinking about chris, how he feels. your teeth bang together reminding you you’re still kissing him, you slowly pull away in an attempt to let him down easily, he smiles at you and you lightly smile back.

you fearfully avoid eye contact with the boys, clair nudges you, you look at her and she discreetly points towards the boys, you look over soulfully noticing chris’s gaze making you quickly turn away.

romeo pulls the sticker back, your name bold for everyone to see, the boys cheer, everyone except for chris.

robert was next, you couldn’t pay attention to what was happening with him as your mind raced about what just happened,

you were only able to notice him having a quick peck with abby, then pulling the sticker back and getting it right, earning the boys another point.

lastly, it was chris’s turn, you felt sick to your stomach, guilt continued to wash over you but you didn’t know why, you didn’t do anything wrong, right?

clair had to touch your shoulder to get you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality as chris splashed into the slime, it oozed off of him.

he quickly glided down the wet runway, him holding the buoy in his hand reminded you that you didn’t pay attention to the prompt, he walked down the line of you all tapping his lip with his finger.

he tsked, walking up to you and using his unoccupied hand to hold the back of your head, he delicately kissed your cheek then pulled away, giving you butterflies, he peeled back the sticker revealing kaia’s name, “awe, shucks!” he comments sarcastically.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was finally you and the girls' turn, you switched spots with the boys, them now standing in the line.

abby was first, she excitedly grabbed a buoy off the wall, “this boy has never been in a relationship.”, oohs and ahhs are shared between everyone, you and the girls huddle,

“what you guys think?” abby whispers, “it’s not robert, he’s 28.” leah mentions. “that doesn't mean anything..” kaia slowly replies, “she’s right to be fair.” clair says, “i think it’s chris.” he’s only 20, abby states.

“he’s on social media though, surely...” leah replies, “i back that actually.” you comment.

“kk!” you all quickly stop huddling, and watch as abby dives into the slime pit, “it’s in my nose!!” she complains.

she struts down the walkway, the sprinklers hitting her at every angle.

she darts straight to chris, placing the buoys string over his head, he giggles as she snogs him, you can’t get a good look which is probably for the best.

she pulls the string off his head then walks over to the flags, pulling back the tape to reveal chris’s name. you girls cheer and rally, you notice cade having a sour face as abby walks back over.

you all played to win, not considering who you wanted to kiss but who you had to, your lips ended up locking with aidan which was unexpected but ended with you getting a point, the only point you girls lost was leah’s turn with a bad guess.

as you girls guessed the most flags correctly, you were all crowned as winners, ending with jumps up and down and cheers from you all.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

everyone arrived back at the villa, wet, slimy and sticky messes.

you and the girls decided you needed some chat after the game, heading to the swing,

“did you see cade’s face, abby?” clair starts.

“what?” she quickly replies.

“he looked pissed.” leah states.

“what’h i do?” her words mush together from her panic, you all shrug.

she rolls her eyes, “anywayyyyy, we won!” she exclaims.

the rest of you cheer alongside her.

“high fives!” kaia places her hand out and you all join her.

a ring is heard from the fire pit, where all the boys were talking.

“text!” chris shouts, all of you stickily get up from the swing, walking over to the boys.

“it’s time to get freshened up as chris will take two girls of his choosing on dates!” the guys cheer, patting his back. he chuckles.

“#sunsetdining, #sunkissed.” he delivers with a smile.

who will chris choose to go on dates with? find out next time on love island..

i'll definitely keep the challenges based off real ones so they aren't extremely hard to imagine, this one is based of aussie love island, season 4. also since this is a chris fic i'll probably end up doing one for matt, i have an idea in mind....anyways, ilysm <3

#zabe's finest pieces 👚#the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris x reader #matt x reader #zabebabe

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 1 year ago

Note

Office Hours/Bells is lowkey becoming one of my comfort fics, I love the lore and that they come from a kind of friendship that makes the whole fucked-up-ness of their situation less apparent xd Is there any chance you're considering writing another part? 👀

Also, your writing style is very impressive to me, I love how you go into detail when describing Y/n's feelings and thoughts and I like your vocabulary :3

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 3)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10 329

Warnings: SMUT (public/car sex, fingering, masturbation, overstimulation, p in v, spanking, cunnilingus, dry humping, thigh humping, slight bimbofication), Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student

Summary: Life had gone back to normal for Y/n now, back at uni and free to live, but she stayed with Jonathan. Then Jonathan starts getting needy and one thing leads to another.

A/N: I had no intentions of writing another part to this but I had to after this ask, thank you so much for sending me this anon 💚 I love hearing from you lot and I really appreciate it :) I'm glad to write someones comfort fic, it means the world to me.

I made Jonathan not only a horny bastard, but also a teasing bastard cause he's an asshat.

I also brought Edward back cause Y/n needs friends! I hope you enjoy 💚

(Office Hours/Bells Masterlist) (Part 2) - (Part 4)

Y/n’s life seemed to have seamlessly returned to its familiar rhythm. University occupied her days and she was granted her freedom to leave whenever she wished. Returning to university proved surprisingly seamless. Explaining her abrupt absence required minimal effort, considering the shitty environment of Gotham. In a city with its own set of pressing concerns, the university showed little interest in the temporary disappearance of a single student. Some of her peers questioned her abrupt absence, but she told them it was family matters which made them drop the topic immediately. Her once-close friends, though accepting her explanation, gradually drifted away due to the lack of communication. She understood their perspective, yet the tethering force of circumstance made rekindling those connections a challenge. Nonetheless, in her newfound relationship with Jonathan, those fading ties held little consequence.

Jonathan had become the focal point of her existence, a gravitational force that commanded her thoughts every second of each living moment. Love enveloped her heart, and every morning, she revelled in waking up next to him, ensuring each time he left was accompanied by a heartfelt goodbye. She made sure he woke her up before he departed at ungodly hours just to say goodbye.

Yet, the intensity of her emotions caused many problems. Times when Jonathan would leave without waking her up, she’d frantically dial his phone, calling a hundred times if she had to, only to unleash her frustration over the phone. But Every time, Jonathan responded with unwavering devotion, hastening back to comfort her unrest and lull her back into a peaceful slumber. There were instances when she felt utterly adrift, grappling with the overwhelming weight of existence, succumbing to panic attacks that left her incapacitated. In those vulnerable moments, he would return to a dishevelled scene, a testament to the chaos that was caused by his absence.

Aware that her obsession was a result of his actions, he acknowledged the unhealthy dynamic but he honestly couldn’t care less. Rather than recoiling, he found a peculiar allure in her obsession. Initially motivated by a desire for her well-being, his aspirations shifted over time. Now, he craved her presence unapologetically, indifferent to the means employed to secure it. What once began as a pursuit of what was best for Y/n transformed into an unbridled desire to possess her, regardless of the cost.

"Should I go pick up the rest of my stuff from the dorms?" Y/n inquired, setting her book down and directing her gaze toward Jonathan, who was seated at his desk.

He glanced over at her, considering the question. "I suppose that would be wise. I can drop you off at the dorms to gather your things tomorrow if you'd like. I won’t be able to help you get them though, being a professor and all." Jonathan suggested.

"That’s fine, I have a bunch of suitcases to pack my shit in. I'll let my parents know I've moved into a new rental and won't need to pay for the dorms anymore," Y/n confirmed.

Although her belongings at the dorm were not extensive, the prospect of decorating the warehouse with her personal items excited her, transforming it into a space that felt more like home. She looked forward to the opportunity to drag Jonathan to a department store, determined to infuse the place with a proper sense of homeliness, complete with a well-equipped kitchen. The bathroom, too, demanded considerable attention. In its current state, it lacked any built-in features, as they’d only been there for a week.

Gathering her belongings proved to be a straightforward task. Y/n efficiently packed everything from her compact dorm room into the waiting suitcases nestled in her closet. The prospect of adorning the warehouse with her personal items filled her with excitement. Down the elevator and into Jonathan's car parked outside, she loaded her possessions before promptly returning the key to the front desk.

Back at the warehouse, she eagerly unpacked her bag. Carefully laying out her blankets on the bed, the necessity of being well-prepared for the harsh Gotham winters. Finally having a place for the essential home items collected over the years, like plates and cutlery, added a comforting touch to her new living space.

"You've got quite the haul," Jonathan remarked, observing Y/n pull out an abundance of items.

Raising an eyebrow, Y/n questioned, "You don't like my mugs?" She held up a pair of cat-themed mugs that she had just grabbed from her suitcase.

Jonathan chuckled, "I just didn't expect someone who lived at the dorm to have such an array of things."

"Well, I bought them so that when I was ready, I'd already have everything to fill a house," Y/n explained.

Jonathan arched an eyebrow, "Then it must disappoint you that this is barely a house."

"Nonsense. It means I get to choose how this place is decorated," Y/n retorted with a smirk, asserting her enthusiasm for transforming their living space.

"Oh, really? What's your vision then?" Jonathan inquired, intrigued by Y/n's plans.

Leaning against the modest kitchen, Y/n surveyed their current setup. "Well, I'm not entirely certain about the kitchen yet, but it's going to be a vast improvement from what we have now," she asserted, gesturing towards the pitiful kitchen space, barely accommodating a mini fridge with a microwave above and a small countertop.

"And as for the bathroom, gunmetal grey, I think. Nice tiles, too," Y/n envisioned.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, a practical concern surfacing. "You do understand we can't have people coming in here to do that work, right?" he pointed out, as this place held all his illegal equipment.

"I know. I can do it myself," Y/n confidently replied.

Surprised, Jonathan questioned, "You know how to tile?"

"Yeah, my mum and dad used to do up houses together. I've got some handiness skills, don't worry," Y/n assured, her tone reflecting both competence and determination. “But besides..that’s a job for another day.”

Jonathan hadn't imagined such a skill from Y/n, but he found himself appreciating the prospect of someone finally transforming their warehouse into something more inviting. As Y/n carried on with her unpacking, the idea of a visually improved environment began to take root.

Y/n dedicated the majority of her class time to envisioning and designing the ideal kitchen and bathroom for the warehouse. Having already grasped the lesson from Jonathan a week ago in private, most of the material seemed redundant. Jonathan, aware of her tendency to zone out, didn’t mind much. He’d never call her out in lectures like the other students.

Armed with her sketches and ideas, Y/n meticulously outlined the placement of kitchen cabinets and various items in her notebook. She opted against structural changes, acknowledging her lack of confidence in altering the layout of walls.

From his desk at the front, Jonathan observed her from a distance. Even at that distance, he could discern a glint in her eyes as she immersed herself in the creative process. His gaze remained captivated by her presence. The subtle way she bit her lip in deep thought, coupled with her choice to sit at the front, afforded him a clear view of her legs beneath the desk. Legs crossed, bare, and accentuated by the skirt she had chosen to wear that day, further held his attention.

Jonathan had always perceived her in a clean, innocent way–until today. Now, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was a dirty old man. Though she wasn't doing anything remotely sexual, he still felt ashamed of himself. To make matters worse, he couldn't tell whether he'd manage to restrain his impulses once alone with her.

The lecture concluded, and Y/n patiently waited for the room to clear before slipping into Jonathan's office.

"I've got some home plans!" Y/n announced, waving her paper triumphantly as she approached him.

Rounding the side of his desk, she brought a chair with her and settled next to him. Leaning in, she shuffled closer, spreading out her papers and indicating the above-view image of the warehouse's floor plan.

"I was thinking we could shift the kitchen over here, away from the bathroom. I mean, having no space between the two rooms is kind of gross, don't you think?" Y/n explained, pointing at the image with her pen.

Jonathan tried to focus on her words, but her proximity, especially the enticing warmth of her thigh against his own, distracted him.

"We can relocate the living space here, and it would be a better setup than what we have now. As we settle in, maybe we could add some walls, but honestly, I'm not confident in my skill set for that right now, so tha—" Y/n abruptly halted her explanation, catching Jonathan's lingering gaze.

"Why are you staring at me?" she inquired, noticing his distraction.

Jonathan, unable to resist, admitted, "Sorry, my Dear," before capturing her lips in a surprisingly passionate kiss, letting actions convey what words couldn't.

She emitted a soft squeak in response to the unexpected kiss, attributing it to Jonathan's attempt to express affection. Detecting an unusual tension in him that day, she decided to let it slide. "It's fine, just don't complain when the warehouse looks weird," she quipped with a playful note.

Y/n rose from the chair and settled onto the couch. However, the lingering trace of her scent and the warmth from her body seemed to cling to him, leaving an indelible impression long after she had moved away.

They arrived back at his hideout later in the night, and Jonathan couldn't shake off the feeling that he was a dirty pervert. All he wanted was Y/n's body all over him, a thought that clashed violently with his normally dispassionate nature. Even when he was a teenager, he never had romantic thoughts about anyone, much less lustful ones. But in his defense, his school was full of assholes and his grandmother would beat the lust out of him. But now, with Y/n in the picture, he couldn't help but feel like he was losing control.

Jonathan had promised Y/n that they would sit on the couch together and watch a movie tonight. She was bouncing with excitement, already making microwave popcorn for the movie. When she jumped onto the couch beside him, Jonathan couldn't help but feel his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to focus on the screen, but all he could see was Y/n's warm, inviting body next to him. Jonathan could feel all the blood rush to his dick, making it twitch painfully under his jeans. Thankfully, Y/n kept a blanket on the couch so he could cover up and pretend that nothing was wrong.

Y/n laid her head on Jonathan's shoulder while he sat awkwardly straight. She thought nothing of his usual stiffness, and for once, he was glad for his natural awkwardness. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his own. He tried to focus on the movie, but all he could think about was the soft curves of her body. He couldn't help but feel a wave of desire wash over him as he fought to keep his hands to himself.

While Y/n was enjoying The Spongebob Squarepants Movie, Jonathan was stuck in a battle with his own thoughts. All he could think about was how he wanted to hear Y/n moan and scream beneath him as he rammed his dick into her. He tried to keep his cool, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was losing control.

Jonathan let his eyes drift from the flashy colors of the screen to Y/n. He couldn't help but notice the way her leg was thrusted out from under the blanket, her loose shorts revealing the soft, warm flesh of her thigh.

All he could think about was how he wanted to bury his face between Y/n's thighs and eat her out while her legs squeezed his head. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he couldn't help but imagine the way her body would shudder with pleasure as he brought her to orgasm.

Poor Y/n wanted to have a sweet moment together, but Jonathan's thoughts were ruining it for him. Y/n had no idea of the battle that raged within him, the way he wanted to throw her down onto the couch and rut her like a dog in heat. He knew he had to keep it together if he didn't want to ruin this precious moment with Y/n.

He remained blissfully unaware that the film had ended until the closing credits began rolling, accompanied by the familiar tune of "Ocean Man." Y/n sat up, stretching, and inadvertently causing her shirt to ride up a little.

"I love that movie," she expressed, glancing down at Jonathan, who remained seated, seemingly reluctant to move.

"Come on, time for bed," Y/n insisted, seizing Jonathan's hand and coaxing him off the couch.

As she switched off the TV and put the empty popcorn bowl away, Jonathan stood there, taking a moment to readjust his pants, ensuring they wouldn't expose him. The both of them climbed up the stairs and hopped in the bed.

"Goodnight," Y/n murmured, leaving a tender kiss on Jonathan's cheek before rolling over.

"Sleep came easily for Y/n, but for Jonathan, it was a different story. He lay awake with his hard dick pressed against his pants, thinking he couldn’t possibly be as horny in the morning as he was now, right? Oh boy, was he wrong.

For the next week, Jonathan felt like a perverted bastard. Every time he saw Y/n, he could feel his dick pulse in his pants. When he took her to the department store to look at cabinets and countertops, he couldn't help but imagine the way her body would shudder with pleasure as he fucked her over each one of them. How cute she’d look laying over the counters, moaning and squealing in pleasure as Jonathan fucked her.

The two successfully purchased a nice set of countertops without Jonathan succumbing to his usual impulses. To maintain a low profile, Jonathan opted to rent a trailer for transporting the counters, avoiding the attention that delivery might attract. With the countertops secured, Y/n wasted no time and dove into the task of installing them in her designated kitchen space. Jonathan helped in rearranging everything, providing a helping hand as Y/n drilled the countertops into their designated spots.

Y/n was on the ground, drilling the indie shlefs of the lower cabinets. Jonathan walked up behind her and stood there. Y/n was wearing baggy pair of pajama shorts and he couldn’t look away from her ass. He wanted to grab her hips and force his dick inside of her like some shitty porno. Y/n noticed Jonathan standing behind her and looked back.

"Everything okay, Jonathan?" Y/n inquired, her concern evident in her voice.

Jonathan inhaled sharply before walking away. He hoped Y/n hadn't seen his raging bulge in his pants. Y/n had begun noticing his strange behavior. If he wasn't strange before, he sure was now. She couldn't understand why he was like this. She tried to focus on their task, but all she could think about was the way his eyes had lingered on her body just a moment too long. Could he be thinking of some kind of twisted experiment like he does to his other victims. She couldn't help but feel a wave of unease wash over her as she wondered what was going on inside his head.

Y/n reclined on Jonathan's office couch, casually flipped through bathroom catalogues. As he watched her from behind the desk, Jonathan couldn't help but admire her stunning presence. Flipping through the pages with a smile, Y/n eventually stood up and approached Jonathan, holding a particular page out for him to look at.

"What do you think?" she inquired, presenting the page before him.

Yet, Jonathan found his gaze fixed on Y/n's face rather than the catalog. A face he looked at countless times daily, yet it still retained its irresistible allure, maintaining an enduring power over him. And these past couple weeks, everything about her he admire suddenly brought blood rushing to his dick.

Y/n's smile waned as silence met her question. "Jonathan?"

Before she could react, he swiftly cupped her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss, leaving her momentarily breathless. She would have gasped if his mouth hadn't enveloped hers. When he finally pulled back, he held her gaze.

"Jonat—" she began, only to be abruptly cut off.

With a forceful motion, Jonathan cleared his books from the table, then effortlessly picked Y/n up from the ground, dropping her onto the tabletop. She squealed in surprise as he stood, the chair screeching against the floor, and loomed over her.

Y/n's heart raced as she realized Jonathan's true intentions. He brought his lips back down onto hers, kissing her with a fiery passion she'd never seen before. He pressed himself up against her, and she could feel his hard member pressing into her. It all made sense to her now. Jonathan was just really horny. All she could think about was the way his kisses made her body tingle with excitement.

She kissed him back, her fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned at her delicate touch and brought his lips down her face, leaving a trail of kisses on her jaw. He sucked and bit at her jaw and neck, leaving marks that would turn into bruises later. His hands glided down the sides of her body, gripping her plush thighs that he had been admiring for the past couple weeks. His rough fingers felt like heaven against her soft skin.

Jonathan subconsciously began grinding his hips into Y/n, and she let out a moan that echoed through the room. Y/n let her hands drag down Jonathan's body, making their way down to his pants, and that's when Jonathan realized what they were doing and where they were. He pulled away from her, but she couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over her.

"We can't, Y/n," Jonathan said, standing up.

"What!? Why not?" Y/n questioned, sitting up from the table, a frown creasing her forehead.

"I'm not going to fuck you for the first time on a desk in my office," Jonathan said.

"Then why don't you make love to me on your desk in your office?" Y/n teased, playfully dragging her foot up the inside of his leg.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow in response, and Y/n, with an eye roll, conceded, "Fine."

Jonathan assisted her off the desk and took a moment to brush her hair, ensuring she looked presentable. "Come on, let's go home," he suggested.

"Fine, but the second we get through that door, your dick is all mine," Y/n playfully declared.

Y/n practically sprinted to the car in the parking lot, surprising Jonathan with her infectious enthusiasm. Once both of them were inside the car, Y/n quickly slid into the middle seat and peppered the side of Jonathan's face with kisses. A warmth spread through Jonathan's neck beneath his collar, caught off guard by Y/n’s affection.

He pulled out onto the road and Y/n was still at his side, her finger drawing pattern on his thigh, her touch like a feather that ignited a flame within him. “You keep this up and I might crash.” Jonathan said, his voice shaking with desire.

She chuckled a little, her tongue darting out to lick the side of his neck while her hand began to wander, tracing patterns on his chest with her tight grip, sending tingles down to his core. Y/n dragged her finger down to his hard member through his pants and squeezed it suddenly, causing Jonathan nearly to swerve off the road. It was a moment of intoxicating desire that he could not control.

"Fuck, Y/n. Are you trying to get punished?" Jonathan inquired.

"Maybe..." Y/n replied with a sly grin.

Jonathan gently removed her hand from his crotch. "Not while I'm driving," he asserted.

"Can you at least play with me then?" Y/n pleaded, pouting.

He sighed, "Lie down," he commanded.

Y/n was caught up in the heat of the moment, her body craving Jonathan's touch. She felt pleasure rush to her core and quickly laid down on her back, her head on Jonathan’s thigh. Jonathan, with his eyes still on the road, brought his hand down Y/n’s body and grasped her thighs. He pulled it back, one of her legs now in the air.

“You naughty fucking girl.” He said, giving her ass a hard slap. “Can’t wait till we're home.”

She squealed before giggling. “I’m sorry, Professor, I just want you so bad!” Y/n said, her words catching in her throat.

He brought his hand to her core and rubbed her through her shorts. She hummed and grabbed a hold of Jonathan’s arm, her fingers digging into his skin. She started grinding up against it, trying to get more friction, her breath coming in short gasps.

Y/n's body was on fire as she felt Jonathan's hand slide down her pants and into her underwear. She bit her lip and moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. She felt his fingers graze her clit, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. He could feel her wetness through her underwear, his fingers slipping and sliding against her. Jonathan did his best to stay focused on the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He pulled over to the side of the road, his eyes locked on Y/n's.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Come here,” Jonathan said, pulling her right up against his chest.

He could feel her heart racing against his own. He pushed her shorts down her legs and opened her back up, his fingers dipping between her wet pussy lips. She let out a moan, her hips bucking against his touch. His other hand pushed her hair out of the way, giving her neck a passionate kiss. She let out a moan, her body arching into his touch.

“You’re so desperate for my touch, my Dear,” Jonathan said.

He rubbed his finger in circles at her entrance, teasing her and driving her wild. “Yeah, but you’re the one who pulled over to finger me, Dr. Crane..” Y/n giggled, her voice breathy with desire.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him, his eyes burning into hers. “Keep up that attitude and you won’t be cumming for a week.”

She let out a gasp, her body shivering at his words. “Sorry, Dr. Crane, I’ll be good..” she said, her voice trembling.

“Good girl,” he said, his eyes softening as he kissed the top of her head. He plunged his finger into her, filling her up with his touch.

He pumped his fingers into her hole, her body clenching and unclenching around his touch. The sloppy noises filled the car, her moans and gasps echoing off the walls of the car. The scent of her sex filled the air, making his head swim with desire. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he pumped in and out of her.

“Tonight, I’m going to make you come, over and over again. You hear me?” Jonathan spoke, right up against her ear.

Y/n nodded, her eyes wide with anticipation. Her walls began throbbing around him, her body shivering with desire.

“Are you gonna cum on my fingers, my Dear?” Jonathan asked.

“Mhmm, Professor, I’m so close!” Y/n whined, her voice breathy with excitement.

He rubbed her in circles, his thumb rubbing against her clit, driving her wild. Her breath picked up as Jonathan continued to pump his fingers inside of her and flick her clit. She gripped his arm tighter, her body shivering with anticipation. He rubbed her in circles, his thumb rubbing against her clit, driving her wild. She let out a moan, her body arching into his touch.

It was a moment of intense pleasure that they couldn't resist. She came hard, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched and unclenched around his touch, the wetness of her sex filling the air. He could feel the heat of her body, the passion of their moment bursting forth in a explosion of desire. It was a moment of intense desire that left them both breathless.

Jonathan pressed a kiss on her temple. “Let’s go home, my Dear.” Jonathan said, his voice sweet.

He pulled his fingers out of her, a string of her slick stuck to them. He brought them to his lips and sucked her sweet essence off of his fingers. Y/n let out a gasp, her body shivering with excitement.

Just as Y/n was about to sit back up, Jonathan held her back, keeping her anchored against him. Her body swelled with love at this little gesture. She laid back against him, her head resting on his chest. She could clearly see his hard member sitting in his pants, but she knew she couldn't touch it while he was driving. The drive back never felt longer.

Getting through the warehouse door, Y/n pounced on Jonathan, kissing him deeply. Her breath picked up as he lifted her off the ground, her body shivering with anticipation. He made his way up the stairs to the bed, dropping her down on it. She gripped the sheets in her fists, her body swelling with desire.

He climbed on top of her, his lips pressing against hers. He moved his kisses to her neck, suckling at the tender skin. She gripped his hair, her body arching into his touch. He thrust his hips against hers, the heat of his body pressing against her. She could feel the hardness of his cock in his pants, the tip pressing against her cunt. She tightened her legs around his hips, pulling him down on her. He groaned, his lips pressing against hers.

“This is what you wanted?” Jonathan said, seductively.

“Mhmm,” Y/n hummed, her lips biting together.

He bit her neck hard, her body shuddering with excitement. “Say it,” he commanded.

“Yes, Dr. Crane!” Y/n cried, her body arching into his touch.

He smirked, his lips pressing against hers. He continued to grind down on her, the heat of his body pressing against her. She let out a gasp as he ripped her shorts down her legs.

“Don't think I haven't forgotten about that punishment,” he said.

Jonathan left a hard slap on Y/n's ass, the sting of it burning against her skin. She let out a gasp, her body shuddering with excitement. He rubbed the spot where he had hit her, his thumb rubbing against her skin.

Jonathan grabbed her hips, pulling her up, so her ass was in the air. He spread her legs and gave her ass another slap.

“Letting your Professor finger you in the car, naughty little girl,” Jonathan said. A hard slap came down on her ass before thrust his fingers into her pussy, the heat of his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“Playing with your little cunt sounds a lot worse to me, Professor,” Y/n teased.

Another slap came down on her ass, “You calling me a dirty pervert?” Jonathan asked.

“I may be..” she smirked.

“Yeah? So I'm a dirty pervert and you're a naive little girl,” he said, his voice low and rough. He planted a kiss down on her red ass cheek.

Jonathan flipped her back over, planting sweet kisses on her lips. Y/n, eager for more, slid her hands to Jonathan's shoulders, working on removing his jacket. However, just as things were about to escalate, Jonathan's work phone rang, his illegal work phone.

The two of them cursed simultaneously. Jonathan sighed and rested his forehead on Y/n’s with his eyes closed. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” Jonathan said.

Jonathan sat back up, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone and promptly answered it. Y/n pouted, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched him on the phone. His voice conveyed clear frustration, and the expression on his face mirrored the sentiment. Whatever transpired, it was evident that the situation was far from favorable.

The call ended, and Jonathan's expression turned somber as he dragged his hand down his face. "I have to head down to Arkham, I'm sorry, my Dear," he sighed.

Y/n's face dropped, desperation evident in her eyes. "No! You can't leave me!" she cried.

"I know, Y/n, I'm sorry. I need to deal with this, the Batman's been snooping, and I can't let that happen," Jonathan explained, gently holding Y/n's face in his hands.

"But I need you!" Y/n's eyes welled up with tears.

"Y/n, if the Batman finds out what I'm doing, I won't be coming back to you at all, and you don't want that, do you?" Jonathan said.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jonathan planted a tender kiss on her forehead.

"I'll be back, don't cry," he reassured her.

She nodded, sniffling. "I'll wait," Y/n declared.

"I know," Jonathan offered a small smile before hopping off the bed and walking down the stairs.

Y/n fought to compose herself, determined not to shed any more tears. Left lying on the bed as Jonathan exited the warehouse, she wiped away the traces of her emotional outburst and mustered the strength to rise. Making her way to the bathroom, she assessed her reflection in the mirror.

Apart from her puffy eyes, her appearance seemed unremarkable, but she desired to present her best self for Jonathan upon his return. Opting for a quick shower and freshening up, she hastily ascended the stairs to select an outfit for the occasion.

She tossed her clothes around in a flurry, searching for something alluring to showcase her body to Jonathan. Unfortunately, it seemed her collection of bras and underwear consisted mainly of plain and mundane options. While she did have a couple of lacy pieces, they lacked the thrilling allure she desired. She let out a sigh, berating herself for not anticipating such a scenario.

Preferring not to be entirely naked upon Jonathan's return, Y/n searched for an outfit that would offer him the pleasure of unwrapping her later. Opting for a nice skirt and shirt combination, she believed Jonathan wouldn't mind. Choosing a short skirt, she hiked it up even higher, pairing it with a small shirt that ended just below her breasts and featured a flattering sweetheart neckline.

Adorned in her chosen attire, Y/n felt she looked absolutely adorable and held onto the hope that Jonathan would think the same. Laying back on the bed, Y/n contemplated the moments she would share with Jonathan upon his return. Despite her efforts to stay awake and be ready for him, she succumbed to exhaustion within an hour.

Jonathan wante to kill everyone that fucked up his night with Y/n, he was furious the entire time getting things sorted at Arkham. Hiding his experiments was already a challenging task, and the incompetence of those who worked for him made everything more difficult to an unnecessary degree.

Jonathan raced back to the warehouse, speeding all the way. By the time he arrived, well past 11 o'clock, the faint sound of a radio reached his ears from upstairs. Climbing the stairs, he sighed at the sight of Y/n, peaceful and beautiful, lying on the bed.

Regret gnawed at him for leaving her alone, he should have stayed, leaving the complications at Arkham for someone else to handle.

Noticing her changed clothes, he smiled. She lay on her stomach, her skirt revealing a hint of her tempting silhouette. Chuckling softly, he joined her on the bed, sitting beside her. As he stroked her hair, he could tell she was deeply asleep.

Jonathan planted a gentle kiss on her head before undressing and changing into pajamas. Slipping into bed beside her, he tucked her in, sharing the warmth of the covers.

Y/n awoke to find Jonathan's arm draped over her waist. Uncertain about the moment she fell asleep or when he returned home, a hint of disappointment lingered that they never ended up having sex last night. Nevertheless, the joy of his return outweighed any regrets.

She leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips before gracefully rising from the bed. Jonathan stirred as the bed shifted with her movements, and he watched as Y/n stretched her arms upward and twisted from side to side. Chuckling at the sight of her, with her enticing figure partially exposed, Jonathan's amusement prompted Y/n to turn around and catch his gaze.

"You're up?" Y/n smiled, breaking the quiet morning.

“It would appear that way, my Dear,” Jonathan replied.

Y/n leaned over, giving Jonathan another kiss, and this time, he reciprocated as he was awake this time. Jonathan finally sat up, embracing Y/n in his arms. She smiled, and he swayed her gently from side to side.

“So… are you going to make love to me, Dr. Crane?” Y/n asked, her tone teasing.

She stood on her tiptoes, nibbling at his ear seductively. Jonathan chuckled and shook his head.

“Tonight, my Dear,” he said.

Y/n pouted, “I waited all night!”

“I know, but we have to go to university, and I want to take my time with you,” Jonathan explained with a playful smirk.

Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes. "You better!" she said before making her way down the stairs.

Jonathan chuckled, amused by her playful sulking. He got up, readying himself for the day ahead.

In the car, Y/n moved closer to Jonathan, reminiscent of the previous day. Her fingers traced patterns on his thigh, but Jonathan intercepted her hand before anything further could happen. Y/n huffed but decided to let it go.

Upon reaching the university, the two settled in Jonathan's office, awaiting the start of the lecture. Y/n occupied the couch, attempting to capture Jonathan's attention the entire time. She gracefully slid down the couch, causing her skirt to hike up, revealing her underwear.

Jonathan was well aware of her intentions. He chuckled a little, maintaining his self-control. Just the day before, he struggled to keep his dick in check, and now he found himself edging her. Though his thoughts were running wild, essentially eye fucking her, he managed to remain composed.

Y/n was driven wild with desire, yearning for Jonathan's touch. She didn't care where he touched her or where he fucked her, all she wanted was him. She pulled her skirt up higher, revealing her clothed sex, and sat with her legs open, giving Jonathan a view of what he was working with. Jonathan didn't hesitate to look, but he made no move to touch her yet.

Y/n sighed, "Don't make me hump the couch."

"Hump the couch and I won't be touching you," Jonathan said.

“So..” Y/n stood up from the couch and straddled his leg. "Can I hump your thigh then?" Y/n asked.

"Fine, but no orgasm," Jonathan said.

Y/n giggled and began rocking her hips back and forth, her breath hitching as she felt the head of his cock brush against her knee through his pants.

Y/n was riding Jonathan's thigh, her hips moving in a steady rhythm. Her dress had ridden up to her waist, revealing the black lace of her only pair of underwear. Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard and poking through the fabric. She was breathing heavily, her face flushed with excitement. Jonathan watched her, his cock twitching with desire. He could feel the dampness of her sex through the fabric of his pants. He knew he couldn't last much longer.

"Such a sweet girl, you are," Jonathan said, his hands settling on her hips as she rode his thigh.

Her knees continued to brush against his hard erection, and Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "Calm down, don't wanna fog up your glasses," she teased, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

Jonathan pulled her closer to his chest, her ass jutting out. He delivered a hard smack to her ass, making her gasp. "Watch it," he said, his voice stern.

Y/n looked up at him with a sly grin. "Sorry, Doc," she teased, knowing exactly what she was doing to him.

Y/n continued to ride his thigh, her hips grinding down hard against his touch. She could feel the wetness between her legs, and she knew that he could too. His cock was hard, and she could feel it pressing against her. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the moans that were threatening to escape

Jonathan watched her, his eyes burning with lust. He delivered a swift smack to her ass, making her chuckle and him smrik. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Doctor, I think I'm gonna cum," she said, her voice shaking with anticipation.

Y/n was on the edge of orgasm when Jonathan pulled her off of his knee. "I don't think so, Dear," he said firmly.

Her building orgasm vanished, and Y/n was left feeling frustrated and angry. "What the fuck!?" she yelled, her hands balled into fists.

Jonathan looked at her with a stern expression. "I said no orgasm," he reminded her.

Y/n huffed, her chest heaving with anger. "Fine. Then I'll just have to figure out another way to cum," she said, turning away from him.

But Jonathan wasn't done. He swatted her ass hard, making her yelp and turn back around.

"Don't think for a second that you're in control here," he said.

Y/n was furious. She stood up from her position and stormed over to the couch, crossing her arms.

“No time for sulking, girl, gotta be out in 5...” Jonathan remarked.

She got up from the couch, declaring, “I’m leaving now!”

Y/n stomped out of the office door and headed to her usual seat at the front. She was in for a long lecture.

The lecture concluded, and Y/n approached Jonathan, who sported a familiar smirk.

“Ready to head home?” Y/n said.

“For you, yes,” Jonathan replied with a smile.

“What?” Y/n squinted, puzzled.

“I have a meeting, and I've asked Nigma to take you home,” Jonathan explained.

“What, you two are buddies now?” Y/n questioned.

“Doesn't matter what we are; I want you home safe while I'm at my meeting,” Jonathan stated, gathering his belongings.

Y/n sighed, “You better be back before 5, come any later, and I'll be cumming instead,” she teased.

Jonathan chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead. “He's waiting outside,” he informed her.

Y/n sighed and walked out of the lecture hall and outside. She immediately spotted Edward by his bright lime green car.

“How subtle,” Y/n remarked, approaching the car with its windows down.

“Hello, Y/n. Very nice to see you!” Edward greeted.

Y/n hopped into the passenger seat of the car. “So! Doing favors for Jonathan now?” she asked.

“I owe him... and besides, you're much more fun than that stick in the mud,” Edward replied.

Y/n chuckled as Edward pulled out onto the road.

“I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?” Edward suddenly posed a riddle.

“Seriously?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, looking at Edward. “A map. What am I, five?”

“I see that one was too easy, you'll never get my next one,” Edward said.

Y/n sighed, this was going to be a long ride.

Y/n was mentally exhausted. Being horny for the entire day was hard enough but dWe ealing with Edward's annoying riddles during the 20-minute drive had only added to her frustration. Despite that, she found some enjoyment in Edward's company.

“Would you like to come in?” Y/n asked.

Edward raised his eyebrows. “You really want me to?”

“Well, sure... just no more riddles!” Y/n demanded.

“You ask so much of me,” Edward said, hopping out of the car.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You’ll live.”

They entered the warehouse, and Edward looked around, whistling in appreciation. “I see you’ve done some work around here,” he remarked.

“You like it?” Y/n asked.

“Much better than Jonathan’s old place. He’s never been the decorative type,” Edward said.

As Y/n led Edward Nigma into the warehouse, she offered, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

Edward's eyes gleamed with interest. "Ah, the elixir of intellectual stimulation. I'd love one, thank you."

She stared at him for a second, judging his choice of words before walking off. Y/n guided him to a makeshift kitchen area where she had set up a coffee maker. She busied herself with the task of brewing coffee while Edward observed her surroundings, his eyes darting from one detail to another.

Handing him a steaming cup, Y/n took a seat across from Edward at a small table. "Sorry that you had to take me home? Well, not really, you paid it all back by tormenting me with riddles on the drive"

Edward grinned, sipping the coffee. "Well, my riddles are a delight, thank you. Jonathan asked me to ensure you get home safely. You're important to him, you know."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I guess even Gotham rogues like yourself have a softer side."

Edward chuckled. "You know.. I’m surprised you even stayed."

Y/n maintained her smile, though it held a hint of frustration. "Well... We were friends before everything," she reiterated, trying to explain her perspective.

Edward continued stirring the conversation provocatively. "You sure it's not... Stockholm Syndrome?" he questioned, his finger tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

"No, it's not. He didn't really kidnap me," Y/n replied, laughter accompanied by a hint of stiffness.

Edward pressed further, bringing up the topic of the infamous bells. "Jonathan told me about the bells..."

"That doesn't matter anymore, he took them off. See!" Y/n shook her feet around, emphasizing that they made no sounds.

Edward, persistent in his scepticism, offered a backhanded suggestion. "I'd say you should see a psychiatrist, but I just think you'd find your way back to Jona-"

"Okay, Edward! I get it!" Y/n interjected, her smile tight-lipped, signalling an end to the topic.

Edward chuckled to himself, savouring a sip from his mug, as Y/n subtly redirected the conversation. "So yeah, I did up a nice kitchen and bathroom," she stated.

He observed his surroundings before responding, "Yes, it's a very nice kitchen."

As they continued chatting over coffee, Y/n was able to ignore the throbbing between her thighs for a couple of hours.

As the sun began to set, Y/n sat on the couch, her legs crossed and her eyes fixed on the TV screen. She was getting restless. It had been nearly 5 pm now, and Jonathan still hadn't come home. Edward had left a couple of hours ago, leaving Y/n with little to no distractions.

She had tried to read, but her mind kept wandering. She had taken a long shower, hoping to relieve some of her tension, but it hadn't helped. Y/n had been feeling a sense of desperation building up inside her. It was like her body was craving something that she couldn't get on her own.

She needed Jonathan. She needed him to make her feel complete. But for now, she was left to her own devices. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She needed to relax.

She flipped up her skirt and slipped her fingers down her underwear, touching herself in a way that made her shiver with excitement. Her hands moved slowly and sensually over her body. She moaned softly, feeling her core throbbing with anticipation. She rubbed her pussy in circles, her hips bucking against her touch. Her eyes fluttered close. She needed to cum. She needed it badly.

The TV was blaring, and Y/n was so lost in her own world that she didn't even hear the door open. She was knuckles deep and close to orgasm.

“Well!” a voice from in front of her spoke loudly. She suddenly gasped, opening her eyes and shaking in fright.

It was Jonathan, standing in front of her with a disapproving look on his face.

"You said you had until 5," he said, looking at his wrist watch. "It's only 4:51."

Y/n shook her head, trying to regain her composure. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaking.

Jonathan shook his head, disappointed. "You think you can just do as you please?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

Y/n shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. "No, no. Of course not," she said, trying to pacify him.

"Looks like you don't want to cum tonight," Jonathan said.

Y/n begged, grabbing onto Jonathan's arm. "No, please!" she said, her voice shaking. Jonathan didn't say anything else.

He just picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed as he took her up the stairs and dropped her back on the bed.

"What am I going to do with such a naughty patient like you?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Anything, Doctor," Y/n said, her voice shaking. "Just let me cum."

Jonathan sighed, feeling frustrated. He wanted to punish Y/n and not let her cum, but he could also see that she was desperate too.

"I'll let you cum," he said, "but you listen to me. I'm in charge."

Y/n nodded her head quickly. "Thank you, Dr. Crane," she said, her voice almost breathless.

Jonathan climbed onto the bed, hovering above Y/n. "You're going to cum three times," he said, "with no breaks, okay?"

Y/n nodded her head quickly. "Good," Jonathan said, his tone firm.

He straightened his back, removed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. "Move up a bit," he said, gesturing for Y/n to sit back further on the bed.

Y/n moved up, giving Jonathan more room below her. He knelt in front of her, his eyes fixed on her bare pussy.

"You're going to cum," he said, his voice seductive. "And you're going to enjoy every second of it."

Jonathan grabbed Y/n's legs and rested them over his shoulders. He brought his face closer to her pussy, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Y/n's eyes were filled with desperation as she watched him get closer and closer to her wet cunt. Jonathan licked her slowly, taking his time to tease her. He licked up and down her slit, making sure to hit all the right spots. Y/n moaned, her hips bucking against his touch.

His tongue danced around her clit, circling it slowly before dipping down to her entrance. Y/n cried out, arching her back as she felt him eat her out. Jonathan's tongue was magic, teasing and tormenting her. Y/n wriggled underneath him, trying to get closer to his mouth. She needed him to make her cum. Jonathan smiled to himself as he continued to eat her out, his eyes fixed on her pussy. He knew he had her right where he wanted her.

“Fuck, Dr. Crane!” Y/n moaned, gripping Jonathan’s hair.

Jonathan stuck his tongue into Y/n's entrance, pushing it in as far as he could. Y/n let out a sharp gasp, her eyes widening with surprise. He moved his tongue around, making circles and figure-eights inside her. Y/n bucked underneath him, her hips pushing against his face. Jonathan smiled, feeling her walls clench around his tongue.

He was driving her wild, and he knew it. Y/n moaned, her voice thick with arousal. She could feel her orgasm building, and she knew she was going to explode. Jonathan licked her until she could no longer take it. He pulled his tongue out of her, watching as she cried out in frustration. He smiled, knowing he had complete control over her pleasure. Y/n was his to do with as he pleased.

Jonathan withdrew his mouth, adjusting his glasses as he looked up at her. "Enjoying yourself, my pretty patient?" he asked with a smirk.

“Mhmm, yes, Dr. Crane.” Y/n bit her lips, looking down at him.

Jonathan began to finger her, pushing two fingers into her wet pussy. Y/n gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head. He moved his fingers in and out, stretching her walls and driving her wild. Y/n moaned, her hips pushing against his hand. Jonathan smiled, feeling her tighten around his fingers.

He sucked her clit, teasing it with his tongue. Y/n moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. Jonathan's fingers moved in and out of her, hitting all the right spots.

"You're such a desperate girl," Jonathan said.

"Please, Dr. Crane," Y/n said, her voice shaking with excitement.

"I need it." Jonathan smiled, feeling his cock harden at the sound of her voice.

He knew he had her right where he wanted her. "You're going to cum," he said. "And you're going to enjoy every second of it." Jonathan continued to eat her out, his tongue dancing around her pussy.

Y/n moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. "You like that?" he asked, looking up at her. "You like the way I'm making you feel?"

Y/n nodded her head quickly, her eyes fixed on his face. "Yes," she said, her voice thick with arousal. "Please, don't stop."

Y/n's body tensed, her walls clenched around his fingers, and her face contorted in pleasure. Jonathan smiled, feeling her orgasm build. He knew he was driving her wild. Y/n cried out, her body shuddering with pleasure. Her walls pulsed around his fingers, and her cunt spasmed on his tongue. Jonathan continued to eat her out, his tongue moving in circles around her clit. Y/n moaned, her body convulsing at his touch. She rolled her eyes back in her head, feeling the intensity of her orgasm. It was like nothing they had ever experienced before.

Y/n was coming down from her high, her eyes fixed on Jonathan's face. He smiled, knowing she was addicted to his touch. Jonathan's tongue was still on her, lapping up her juices seeping out. She whimpered, pushing his head away lightly.

"No use in that," Jonathan began to unbuckle his pants, his cock already hardening at the sight of her. "I've got all night with you."

Jonathan pulled his pants down just past his hips, revealing his hard cock to Y/n. She admired it, her eyes fixed on the sight. He stroked it slowly, the dick already slick with her juices from his fingers. Jonathan lifted her legs onto his shoulders, the position she would learn to love. He lined himself up at her entrance, his cock pressing against her wet pussy. He slowly pushed in, watching as Y/n gasped. He smiled, feeling her walls clench around his cock.

Jonathan leaned over top of her, his lips brushing against her ear. "You’re so beautiful?"

Jonathan began thrusting into Y/n, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. His hand roamed up the side of her legs, gripping her ankle. He felt the scars on her ankles and rubbed his thumb over them soothingly. Y/n moaned, her body arching into his touch. She reached up to unbutton his shirt, but he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head.

"I'm in control," he said, his voice firm. "You're mine to do with as I please." Y/n whimpered, her body shuddering with pleasure.

“Sorry, Dr. Crane,” Y/n said, breathlessly.

Jonathan's erection was big and hard, sliding in and out of Y/n's pussy. The feeling of his cock hitting her walls sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She could feel every inch of him as he pounded her. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room.

Y/n's head fell back and her eyes were closed tightly as she enjoyed the ride. Jonathan's breath was heavy as he groaned, continuing to thrust into her. He'd never felt something more heavenly, he knew he'd be addicted to the feeling of being inside of her. He continued to thrust, hitting the sweet spots inside of her.

In the position she was in, with her legs over his shoulders and arms above her head, Y/n was at Jonathan’s whim completely and she loved it. She felt his every stroke deep inside her, the burn in her pussy building with each thrust. His musky scent filled her nostrils, and she couldn't help but moan in ecstasy as the heat between them grew.

“You're such a good patient, Y/n,” he whispered against her ear, his hot breath making her wetter. Jonathan's words sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

Y/n couldn't help but moan in response, arching her back as his cock hit her sweet spot again and again.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, “I'm your patient, Dr. Crane.”

With that, he fucked her harder, taking him deep inside her as she called out his name. Jonathan's thrusts grew harder and faster, his hips pistoning into Y/n's pussy with a force that made her gasp.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/n's head fell back as she felt the burn in her pussy grow, her breath coming in short gasps. With each thrust, Jonathan's cock hit her sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She cried out in ecstasy, her nails digging into her palms as she urged him on.

Y/n felt her second orgasm building, her breath coming in short, heavy gasps. Jonathan's cock was still inside her, his eyes locked on hers as he watched her writhe in pleasure.

“Aww, is my little patient about to cum?” Jonathan mocked.

She had no time to answer when her body began shaking all over again, underneath Jonathan. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her panting and weak in his arms. Jonathan kept up his pace, his cock hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. Y/n couldn't help but wonder how he was able to hold on for so long without cumming himself.

Y/n felt overstimulated, her senses on overload. Jonathan's cock was still pumping in her, his eyes locked on hers as he watched her writhe in pleasure, Jonathan fucked her harder and faster through her orgasm.

“Doctor, it's too much!” she gasped.

But Jonathan was unmoved. ”I don't care what it is, I'm gonna make you cum two more times,” he growled, his eyes locked on hers.

“B-but I've already cum twice! You said three!” Y/n cried.

“I changed my mind,” Jonathan replied, his voice low and sultry.

Y/n knew that if she said stop, he'd listen immediately. But she loved the idea that Jonathan was doing this all by force, his cock buried deep inside her as he pounded into her.

Jonathan suddenly flipped her over, Y/n lying on her stomach. Jonathan hovered above her from behind, lining himself up before pushing inside of her again. His body weight above her kept her in place, giving her nowhere to move.

Y/n felt the heat of his breath against her neck as he growled, "You're mine," into her ear.

She couldn't help but shiver, feeling so desired and taken. As he pounded into her, Y/n couldn't help but cry out in pleasure and overstimulation, her body responding to his every move. The pallets holding the bed up slammed against the floor, the sound echoing through the warehouse.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he pumped into her. Y/n pressed on the mattress, feeling the heavy thud of his cock against her pussy. Jonathan's face was beaded with sweat, he enveloped Y/n in a warm embrace, his arms encircling her shoulders and waist, securing her close to him with a tender grip.

Y/n gripped his arm and sat around her shoulder, trying to hold on to reality. Tears pricked her eyes as Jonathan pounded into her. Y/n could feel his cock slide in and out of her, his balls slapping against her ass cheeks. It was intense, and Y/n couldn't help but beg for more.

Her voice cracked as she pleaded, “Pleae! Don't stop!” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

His rough features softened as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, just below her eyes, “You're so beautiful.”

Their breaths came in short gasps as he pounded into her, his movements becoming haphazard. Jonathan's movements became unsteady as he neared his own orgasm, his breath coming in short gasps. Y/n felt his weight shift as he slammed into her, his expression twisting into a snarl. It was a surprise his glasses never fell off with how animalistic he was.

“F-fuck, I need to pull out,” Jonathan shuddered.

But Y/n held onto his arm tightly, not allowing him to move. “No! Please, Dr. Crane! Don’t pull out.”

Jonathan's muscles tensed, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he came, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Y/n felt him pulse inside her, his hot cum filling her hole. But he didn't slow down, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he continued to pound into her, ignoring his own overstimulation.

Jonathan's cum seeped out of her while he continued to pound into her, the sticky liquid dripping down her mound. Y/n had no time to think before her third orgasm came crashing down on her like a wave as Jonathan's thrusts grew even more frenzied. She cried out his name, her voice lost in the storm of pleasure that coursed through her body as her heart pounded in her chest.

Jonathan looked down at Y/n, her eyes glazed over and her body trembling with overstimulation.

“That's three,” he whispered, his voice rough with lust. “You can give me another one.”

Y/n couldn't form a coherent thought, her mind lost in a haze of pleasure as she felt Jonathan's cock pumping in and out of her. All she could do was moan and blabber.

"Is my patient all dumb, hmm?" Jonathan's voice was a low rumble as he held her face in his hand.

Y/n couldn't speak properly, her eyes rolling back into her head as he continued to thrust deep into her. She could feel his smile against her cheek as he looked down at her, the corners of his lips curling up in amusement.

Y/n's cunt was so overstimulated that it was numb with each thrust, but she could feel all the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through her body. She knew she wouldn't last much longer, her orgasm building up inside her like a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Fuck, already throbbing around me,” Jonathan muttered, mocking her. 'My sweet little patient is about to cum again, and it hasn't even been two minutes."

Jonathan felt his second orgasm nearing as Y/n was nearing her fourth. He gritted his teeth, his eyes darkening as he continued to pound into her.

“That's it, patient,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “Let it all out.”

Y/n's body arched sharply as her fourth orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her sobs of pleasure echoing in the room as Jonathan's own orgasm hit him like a bolt of lightning. He growled out her name, his heart pounding in his chest as he came, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. They were both left panting and gasping for air, their bodies still pulsing with pleasure as they stared at each other in awe.

Jonathan stopped fucking Y/n and just held her, their bodies still pulsing with pleasure as they lay in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice rough with emotion as he whispered, “You did well, Y/n… my pretty patient..”

Jonathan gently pulled out, tenderly turning her over. In her dazed state, he handled her with utmost care, cradling her in his arms. Y/n snuggled closer to Jonathan, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Their clothes, damp with sweat, clung to their bodies.

"Do you want my help having a shower?" Jonathan inquired of Y/n.

"Mhmm, later," Y/n whimpered.

"You really should freshen up, my Dear," Jonathan insisted.

"I can barely fucking think, let alone stand. Later, please," Y/n whined, her eyes closed.

Jonathan sighed. “Hour rest, then you’re showering.”

“Okay, Dr. Crane,” Y/n murmurs, jokingly.

Jonathan chuckled softly, shaking his head, and simply held her close. Both of them knew that sex would now play a significant role in their relationship now, as neither could get enough of each other.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it. I plan to make some more for this series and feel free to request other stories too. I can't imagine it being a long series but I do have plans to write more. 💚

I began writing the smut scene while the poll was still going, so I started with calling Jonathan Professor Crane as it was in front but it ended up being Dr. Crane in the end, so I adapted to that, thank you everyone for voting in that poll, I appreciate the help :)

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redbatchedcumbermayned · 8 months ago

Text

"I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option when voicing Heinrix" - Interviewing Chris Tester part 2

We're continuing our interview with Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat's CRPG Rogue Trader. In this part we speak about insights into Heinrix's character, how the process of recording voice lines for a video game works, if Chris would romance Heinrix in game, and interacting with his fans.

Part 1 of the interview

Part 3 of the interview

I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.

F: So, you already talked a bit about Heinrix as a character. What drew you to the character or what hidden depth did you find in the character?

CT: Well, I hope I found some depth to the character. That contrast between principles or values that you seem to be holding onto and lots of unprocessed trauma going on underneath. Sure, that seems interesting, that seems like a really interesting thing to find. Because you can understand, therefore, the appeal of an ideology, which gives you the answers and it tells you what to do. Essentially, it gives you a role, authority, it gives you status, you completely understand the appeal of that. Just like I find voice-over incredibly appealing and exciting: it gives me structure and authority and the illusion that I know what I'm talking about and what I'm doing.

And then there's the flip side: you could make him heretical in some way, shape or form. And you know, I love, obviously, the fact that he belongs to part of that world which I'm sort of familiar with. Where a lot of the more interesting characters are the ones that have disavowed this God Emperor kind of like status in one way or the other, they tend to have a little bit more going on. They're not two-dimensional villains, not all of them, not all of the time anyway. Whereas on the one hand he's not going full chaos, there was just an interesting tension there to explore. Also, it kind of reminded me a little bit of the Eisenhorn series, which again, it's an Inquisitor that through his pursuit of different things starts to question and use the powers of the warp for his own purposes. A very different character, but still, there are those parallels that I really liked, that fallibility, that vulnerability to a degree, but I wouldn't say too much because I didn't really know how vulnerable or how much of a journey he was going to have in the early stages. I didn't know that until we were recording, I'll be honest.

And I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option, until we were like: Oh, these are romancing lines. And I was like, you what now? So, sorry, I appear to be saying some quite forward things, from his point of view anyway, that's slightly taken me aback. They were like: oh yeah, you're romanceable, you can have a romance. I was like, oh, okay, right. I'll just think back to the five hours or so of recording that we've done up to this point and pray that I've made the right choices. So that was a bit of a crazy ride, but thanks to Olga, the writer of my character, she gave really astute directions. She wasn't in all of the sessions, but the majority, especially when there were big plot beats to explain to me what the hell was going on, however, roughly. She was great. And also the technicians at 3B. I was working with a lot of different members of the group technicians slash directors as well. And they were great in terms of giving me not exactly the bare minimum details, but the bare minimum details that I needed in order to be able to make choices quickly, but strongly and relevant to the game. So yeah, it was quite a trip.

F: Thank you. Since you have been trained as a stage actor do you bring a certain physicality to voice acting? If you embody Heinrix, do you puff your chest? Are you rigid?

CT: Definitely. I think there's the reason why rather than having a small booth, I record in a room is, that I can explore those dynamics as much as possible. And the fact that I was able to record standing and very upright and taking that space was vitally important. Obviously, there's the action stuff that really helps when you're actually making fighting noises. That's one thing. But I think in terms of real subtle differences to be able to, as well as mic proximity when he's speaking under his breath and that kind of thing, that's obviously incredibly vital, but even the subtle things of being able to have that big open physicality because he is so often so imperious because he thinks he's absolutely right. That was a vital aspect to explore and just being able to be upright and expressive in that made such a huge difference.

And also when, without wanting to give too much away, he's in more constricted circumstances, shall we say, trying to do that just purely through the voice means that it all becomes about the sound that you're making as opposed to the truth of the character's journey without wanting to be, again, too much of a cliche, but focusing on that rather than am I making the right gurgling noise?

F: Were you offered any other character to audition for Owlcat? Or if you could, which other character would you like to voice?

CT: I couldn't say any of the other characters. I do play a couple of NPCs randomly. I think before even I had Heinrix. There's some cockney London geezer in there that is immediately disposable. That was me. That was my kind of guaranteed role. I was like, great, fantastic, because I did the audition for Heinrix and then there was quite a few months before it was actually kind of confirmed. I thought the role had gone to somebody else. As with many of these things, you just don't hear back. If you don't hear back, you just assume it's dead and then suddenly it'll come back up or it won't or you'll see another voice actor posting on Instagram going “amazing session” and you slightly die inside and then you move on.

But in terms of the other characters, I mean, I've met, at least digitally online, the vast majority of the principal companion cast and they're all lovely and amazing and I associate them with their performances. For better or worse, Heinrix is very much my kind of casting and I loved it. Not because he's pretty in a particularly posh kind of way, but that helps. Sure, I'll go with that kind of slightly emotionally constipated. I'm very well cast, very well done, but I think so is everybody else. Throughout the entire game, it's a bit of a who's who, they might not be all household names, but in terms of for myself, the actors that I know in some big parts and some really small parts, the actors that I know in the UK and in the U.S. voice-over scene, so much talent, so that it was just an honour to be included in that really.

F: So now I have to ask you a question from our discord server. Would you romance Heinrix if you were playing a female Rogue Trader?

CT: I think that would be a bit weird. No, I'll just watch videos of other people romancing him slash me. Is that more or less weird? I mean, I'm 42 years old. I've spent far too much time playing with myself already. So, let's just draw a line under that, but other people are welcome to. That's absolutely fine. My only thing, without wanting to overstate it too much, is that I was very surprised that there was anything around any character that I've been related to but as with so many of the other companions as well, that's a testament to the writing. Credit to the whole Owlcat team in that respect.

F: Would you like to continue working with Owlcat in the future in another capacity?

CT: Oh, God. Yeah. They've not made me sign an NDA, so I can say, not name a thing, but there's DLC for one of their other titles, which I'm going to be in, and that's in a completely different world. There's that thing of once you've had one really positive experience with the developer and the type of games that they create. The ones that are very story focused, that's the type of games that I'm passionate about. I was brought up on these things like the Mass Effect Trilogy. You know, that absolutely iconic kind of stuff, and so to be a part of someone else's experience to facilitate that kind of longer storytelling stuff is exactly what I would be after. They've got a great process, amazing writers and I also think that the games themselves look fantastic. So yeah, I'm a fan of that.

F: So your fan base has certainly expanded since the release of the game. Do you mind having a female fan base now? Have you noticed that there is a bit of a shift because Warhammer 40k for the totally uninitiated looks like a male hobby and unfortunately some part of the male fans are very aggressive against female fans.

CT: Are absolutely ridiculous. Idiots, essentially. Because my relationship to the whole Warhammer 40k thing is like, I played it when I was really young, and then you put away your childish things. I'm saying that in inverted commas, that's kind of ironic or whatever, and then didn't really get back into it until someone gave me a book and I realised that the lore was actually quite good, quite interesting, and then actually really good and really interesting, and I therefore have done some novels for them and a couple of video games as well.

But to your question, do I mind? No, of course I don't mind. I'm very happily married and well adjusted, so I definitely don't mind as long as it's all respectful, if that makes sense. Surprise, surprise, female fans seem to conduct themselves with that level of respect or if there is a server which is going into crazy, crazy character scenarios and that kind of stuff, no one's sending me a link to that. And even if it is, it's the character, it's not me, and so that's all quite healthy and good. And I think I'm definitely not in a position where I should be censoring any of that kind of thing at all. I think it's all positive and very, very healthy and everybody that I've interacted with has been incredibly respectful. So, I think that's great.

And I think being able to portray these characters that offer that level of connection is great. We're in a post Baldur's Gate world, I suppose. Not that there weren't other games that did this, but on that scale and everything. I think the value that the games can offer in that. Rogue Trader is hugely valuable and I definitely wouldn't want to censure any of that at all.

F: Yeah, it was nice. I reconnected a lot with people who have this fandom experience again that I had in the Eddie Redmayne fandom more than 10 years ago when it was small, when you have a rather small group of fans and then a very nice person that you're a fan of, and you can interact with.

CT: So people have contacted me via Cameo, for example. And, you know, they've had a certain particular playthrough and then they say, well, I would like you to voice this letter from Heinrix or whatever.

F: That was me.

CT: There have been more than just you is what I'm saying, but sorry, not to say that I'm a whore and I'll just do anything, but you're not the only person who has come to me with that kind of thing. And that's great. That's a pleasure, because it's continuing to tell the story on a wider scale. But also the fact that you can personalise and make it your own. And that's the brilliant thing.

That's part of the whole appeal of a video game, as opposed to it being a theatre piece or a film or something else is that it was very much your experience, your playthrough. You can have multiple versions of the thing that you kind of like one but you can really structure your own narrative. And that's a fascinating thing. You get to iterate on it yourself. You know, if one stage of that is also being able to call upon the voice actor to facilitate that, I think that's a cool thing, you know, as long as it doesn't get too weird or too whatever, but you know, whatever two consenting adults want to exchange money for or time, great, fine. I think that's less weird than getting an AI to do it personally. I think that level of storytelling is a great thing.

#chris tester #heinrix van calox #rogue trader #warhammer 40k #rogue tradercrpg #owlcat games

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